PART IX

The way out of the silent dark was sudden; one moment Obi-Wan knew nothing – he was nothing – and then he found himself in a small room, Anakin staring at him with an intensity that burrowed deep under Obi-Wan's skin.

"Oh, you're awake," Anakin needlessly stated, a faint blush spreading on his cheeks. "Finally." It was not the first time Obi-Wan had been woken up by being on the receiving end of Anakin's unwavering focus, although the last time had been several years ago. When impatient and concerned, his Padawan had had a bad habit of willing his Master awake. That this practice had now made a comeback, was slightly disquieting.

"So I seem to be." Obi-Wan rubbed at his eyes, feeling still somewhat lethargic. Slowly, he eased himself to a sitting position on the lumpy bed, eyes taking on the truly spectacularly horrendous room. There was hardly any furniture: just the bed and the one chair Anakin was currently sitting on next to a small rickety table. The walls had been painted with a bland beige paint, but the many darkish stains almost fooled an eye into believing there was a designed pattern on the peeling wall. The rest of the room followed the brown-beige colour scheme, although there were some unfortunate splashes of red in the midst of it, like a heart-shaped light above the bed, and a flattened pillow and a doormat, both also in the shape of a heart – Obi-Wan was sensing a theme.

"How are you feeling?" Anakin asked, clearly apprehensive, but trying to smile lightly.

"I feel…" Obi-Wan took stock of himself, surprised when the sharp nausea and tearing pain were only muted echoes. "I feel rather well." He could sense that something wasn't quite right in him, that there were hurts that should be healed rather sooner than later, but the terrible ache had eased up. No doubt the result of Anakin's foolhardy, impromptu healing efforts.

"You should eat something." Anakin gestured at the collection of quick-meal packs on the table, the empty wrappers and packages among them revealing that Anakin himself had already had at least some food.

"Where are we?"

"Coruscant. The Entertainment District. This lovely place is called the Shooting Star Hotel. A real five-star experience."

"When?"

Anakin took a swig from a small bottle, not meeting Obi-Wan's eyes. "We're about twelve years in the past."

"Care to be more specific?" As well as Obi-Wan knew Anakin, sometimes his former Padawan managed to be frustratingly unreadable, but this was not one of those times. Obi-Wan could tell that Anakin knew the exact time period they had been transported to, and for some reason was hesitant to tell him.

Anakin sighed. "Chancellor Valorum has just been voted out of office. We are probably already on our way to Naboo with Padmé."

Ah, Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan felt the familiar sting of old, well-worn grief and regret. How long would his old Master still be alive? Would Obi-Wan feel his passing again?

"So, what would you like? The rubber-tasting meatballs or the sewage-smelling stew?" Anakin was clearly trying to sound nonchalant. He dangled a couple of meal packs towards Obi-Wan with a grin that was only a pale imitation of his usual blinding smile.

"How long was I asleep?"

"The whole time we've been here, so I reckon…about thirteen hours," Anakin said, his eyes again skirting around Obi-Wan, looking everywhere else. "But after the drek of Zigoola, I can hardly blame you."

"Zigoola?" The lingering sense of terror started to take shape – the rotten touch of the Sith made itself known.

"Don't you remember?" Anakin asked anxiously.

"I must have been unconscious while on Zigoola." At least, from a certain point of view, for Obi-Wan certainly had not been aware of being on the Sith planet. But he had most definitely been aware of the visions that had once again assaulted him in that cursed place. It mattered not that instead of Tanaab, Antar 4, Naboo and Geonosis, he had really been on Zigoola instead; those planets and their familiar cavalcade of horror and failure were intimately familiar, as real as if he had relived them a thousand times. But Anakin didn't need not know that.

"You never told me just how…awful that place was…what it did to you." Anakin was seemingly focused on twisting the hem of his tunic, tighter and tighter until the fabric was in danger of tearing. There was a weariness around him, a sense of bone-deep hurt that alarmed Obi-Wan. Just what horrors had Anakin encountered on Zigoola?

"What happened?" Obi-Wan tried to keep his voice even, although his pulse was picking up speed. "Anakin?"

Anakin shook his head. "Nothing. There was the Temple. And I found you – I mean, the other you. I couldn't really do anything to help." The ripping sound made Anakin finally relinquish his hold on the tunic. "The other you was pretty out of it, and just when I thought you recognised me, the blasted holocron took me away."

You are not alone. I'm right here with you. An echo. A memory that Obi-Wan only then knew for the first time. Please come back. Tears. A beloved face.

"You did help." Obi-Wan remembered the realization he had come to in the aftermath of Zigoola, seemingly a lifetime ago. That although it was true that attachment could weaken a Jedi's resolve, it could also strengthen it. In that brutal nightmare, battered by the darkness and the relentless malice of the Sith, with no Force to guide him, he had been strengthened by thoughts of Qui-Gon and Anakin, by his love for them. It had saved him.

"I did?" Anakin asked, hesitant and hopeful.

"Yes." But Obi-Wan could confess nothing else.

Anakin nodded and miraculously didn't pry for more. He rose from the chair and scooped the packages from the table only to drop them on Obi-Wan's lap. "You need to eat."

Obi-Wan picked one of the small, unopened bottles. His eyebrows rose as he read the label. "Brandy?"

"There weren't any water bottles, and you know the tap water here sucks."

"Just how many have you had?" Obi-Wan asked, only half-seriously.

"Believe me, not nearly enough," Anakin gave a hollow laugh. "I'm going to take a shower, while I still have the chance. You eat." The last sentence was a clear command and obediently Obi-Wan chose one of the quick-meal packs at random as Anakin vanished inside the refresher. Suddenly he was feeling quite ravenous.

While he wolfed down the food, Obi-Wan cast his mind backwards, skipping over the dark visions, all the way back to the ship, where he had meditated. There was something there – something important. He had sunk into a deep meditation, had let everything go, and then what? The transition had to have happened then. Yes – he remembered. But it had not been the same kind of transition as the others before it. There had been a blankness, a nothingness in the middle of the jump, after the ship, but before Zigoola, a non-place in non-time. As if he had been suspended between times and places, and in that moment, he had not been torn apart.

Could the answer really be that simple – and at the same time so complicated in execution?

Obi-Wan was still mulling over the solution to their problem, when Anakin appeared, face clean and hair slightly damp. He looked appraisingly at the empty packages on the bed, clearly pleased that Obi-Wan had managed to eat all the remaining food. Anakin sat on the edge of the bed, crossing his legs at the ankles.

"I was half-afraid the next jump would happen in the middle of my shower – and I would end up somewhere really embarrassing without any clothes."

"I'm glad we avoided that tragedy."

"We could be transported any moment though…" Anakin turned towards Obi-Wan, eyes steely with determination. "Master, I've been thinking…We should go to the Temple. Explain everything, get you to the healers. We might not get another chance at it again."

Obi-Wan was already shaking his head before Anakin had even finished speaking. "No, we cannot reveal ourselves, we cannot change the past."

"But maybe they can help us get back to our own time – and maybe they can help you."

"I doubt it – not with the limited time we have here. Soon enough, we will be transported to somewhere else."

Deflated, Anakin turned his gaze to the floor. His face had turned ashen. "Then, you're going to die."

"Anakin…"

"Don't try to deny it. You cannot take the jumps anymore. You're too weak." Anakin spat the word out like a curse, making Obi-Wan flinch. But it was the harsh truth. Obi-Wan was too weak to withstand the holocron's tearing power. Almost anyone would be, alone.

"I have an idea," Obi-Wan said. He would have liked to think the plan over more thoroughly before giving Anakin uncertain hope, but time truly was not on their side. They had already spent half a day on Coruscant, and so it stood to reason that soon they would be transported to somewhere else.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Anakin raised his gaze, and all his myriad feelings were evident in his eyes. He looked suddenly so young; fearful of the hurt ahead, pleading for his Master to make it better.

Obi-Wan forced himself to sound calm and certain, even when his own plan filled him with trepidation. "I was in the middle of a meditation when we made the jump to Zigoola. And it felt different – for a moment I was in this in-between-place. I think the meditation somehow halted the transition, perhaps for just a second, but it also halted the pain. Which is logical, if you think about it: the more one is immersed within the Force, the easier the transition from one time and place to another will be."

"So what, you just have to meditate during the jumps?" Anakin frowned.

"I'm afraid it's not that easy," Obi-Wan admitted. Nothing ever was with them. "For starters, it's impossible to know when the next jump is starting, and I can't spend all the time waiting for it in mediation – particularly if we are in dodgy places."

"I can watch your back," Anakin said, as if that was self-evident. Which it was.

Obi-Wan smiled. "I know. But I will need your help with something else."

"Anything."

"Wait till you hear what it is," Obi-Wan teased, but quickly grew solemn again. It was not an easy thing he was going to request from Anakin – it would be hard for both of them. "I was in a very deep mediation on the ship, one of the deepest I have ever been. And it still was not enough – the transition and the pain stopped for just a moment, and I could not control it in any way. But perhaps, together…"

"You think that, if we meditate together, we could control the jump?" Anakin looked pensive.

"Maybe, at least it would probably help me with the transition. But Anakin, a regular joint meditation will not be enough…we would have to go much deeper. Within the bond, you would have to share the Force in you – your very essence – with me." Within the Force, they could not help but also share their thoughts, their memories, all that they were, become one. It was not something to be done lightly, if at all. Few could do it, and even fewer wanted to. "I know that I'm asking for something that I have no right to ask of you. And you have no obligation – none – to say yes. I will understand."

"When do we start?"

-o-

Anakin was not one for self-reflection and stillness. To him, true meditation was being absorbed with machines, tinkering and fixing them while letting all thoughts of himself and his surroundings fade away. But he had never really minded meditation with Obi-Wan, not when they immersed themselves in the Force together, the bond between them pulsing with peaceful calm. Those times were the closest Anakin had ever been to another person, apart from being with Padmé.

Therefore, he sank into the Force eagerly, sitting cross-legged on the hard floor opposite his Master. He was hopeful – no, he was certain once more that he could help Obi-Wan, save him. Perhaps he could even steer them home. It was no hardship to let the soothing presence of his dearest friend envelop him, wrap him in warm regard. The bond between them opened wide, spilling brilliant light. The Force hummed in satisfaction.

Briefly, Anakin felt anxious that the jump would happen before they were ready – but as soon as the thought formed, it dissolved. The Force was timeless. Within it, they had an eternity. An eternity to admire the bright strands of light, gossamer-thin and ironclad, woven between them by years of working, living, breathing together. Anakin felt a fierce pride. Look at what we have accomplished. Look at what we are. Together, they could truly do anything.

Content and curious, Anakin followed Obi-Wan easily deeper into the meditation; watched with fascination and thrill as the bond between them opened even wider. Slowly, all the doors were vanishing, the walls collapsing, the boundaries becoming meaningless. Anakin would soon get his most secret wish fulfilled: to know Obi-Wan fully. There would be no secrets left between them. He would know all of Obi-Wan, just as his Master would know all of Anakin.

All of him – ice cold desert vengeful fire slashing cutting –

No! Anakin's instinctive denial struck like a lightning from clear skies, sudden and swift and shocking. Anakin was already retreating before he even knew he had done so; a sickly panic taking him over. Obi-Wan's alarm and confusion were just distant murmurs, drowning under the clamour of Anakin's immense fear.

There was one secret that Obi-Wan could never, ever know. His Master would not understand, could not – only ruin and pain and damnation would come from the reveal of it. Anakin could not let Obi-Wan know.

No – no – no –

Light. Blinding, pulsing.

Author's Note: Argh, describing this Force bond/meditation thing is just the hardest; needless to say, this is probably not how the Force works! :D