Author's Note: Once again, thanks for the reviews, the favorites, just plain reading. I tried something new with this chapter, as you'll immediately see. I went through several different phases while writing this, particularly in regard to how I was going to go about this. In the end, I decided upon something that I'm happy with, and it was a good challenge writing from a different perspective. There will also be an epilogue after this. Anyways, enjoy!

I Have A Bad Feeling About This

Chapter 11

So many dreams were broken and so much was sacrificed
Was it worth the ones we loved and had to leave behind?

16 BBY, Tatooine

The wind howled loudly. Obi-Wan Kenobi tilted his head and saw the looming monster of a sand-storm on Mos Eisley's horizon. The weather was always an inconvenience on Tatooine. All along the main road, shops began to board up to prevent excess dust from coming inside and vendors packed up for the following hours. He thought about heading back to the his small home out in the Dune Sea and thus abandoning and putting off his project of installing necessary moisture collecting vaporators that would further make his home self-sustaining. Every venture into cities and even the smallest of towns threatened the small sense of security his self-imposed exile created. Obi-Wan knew there were active bounties on his head and Tatooine had the habit of attracting bounty hunters.

The hot sun beat down upon his covered head. He glanced down at the broken pipe and decided there was no point in leaving the city without completing what he came there for. Like everyone else, he'd ride the sandstorm out. He patted his eopie's side and headed down the road to find the nearest cantina where he could quench his thirst and overhear conversations about the status of the galaxy under the Empire. The closest establishment was Chalmun's Cantina.

Obi-Wan hitched up his eopie at the indoor stable and headed inside to see that business and frontier pleasure still continued even in bad weather; if anything, it encouraged more crime, violence, and business as people were forced indoors in confined spaces for extended periods of time. The music was loud and catchy, and he knew it would get stuck in his head for the rest of the afternoon until he could properly meditate it away. He approached the counter in the center of the crowded bar and ordered something alcoholic, something called a Star Crossed Lover.

As he waited for his drink, he leaned against the bar and let his thoughts wander. All the noise around him became superficial and unimportant, merely a part of the background clatter. He was almost there, almost about to have found both physical and mental peace and quiet through concentration when his heart betrayed him.

"Why do I even come to these clubs?"

Obi-Wan straightened and swiveled around with a palpitating heart and wide eyes. Patrons standing around him made funny looks and inched away from him. A few tense moments passed as he searched for the familiar face in the crowd. When he realized it had been a cruel trick of the mind, he sighed, rubbed his eyes, and then turned to face the bar again to see that his drink had arrived. He fished into his cloak's pocket and pulled out the proper amount of credits. He wasn't at all planning on starting a tab, but the electric blue drink had nostalgic, sentimental value.

Encouraging the past through subtle reminders served as a sharp double-edged blade. Yet there was no use in denying the memories because the wound had already reopened itself with the false sensation of hearing her voice. So often he fought those memories and forced them to stay concealed, deeming them too painful, but pain constantly made itself known in his life regardless. As he continued to drink the glass of alcohol, he wondered absent-mindedly if this had all been a convenient unconscious set-up, that deep down he wanted to remember, because every stray thought that passed through his mind could be connected in some way to her. The memory core in his pocket seemed to burn against him.

As always, it was a futile battle. If he concentrated hard enough, he could replay their first meeting nearly seamlessly...

Obi-Wan sat at the counter with his drink before him. He ran his finger over the brim of his glass as he thought about Anakin. Always about Anakin. Too often he wondered if Qui-Gon had thought this often about him when he was a padawan. As always, he blocked out a majority of the unnecessary noise except what was immediately around him as if it were mere static over a comm channel. This had been a trick taught by his late master, a means of finding one's center even with such obnoxiously loud music pounding in one's ears.

For the most part, Obi-Wan never paid too much attention to the patrons inside of the club beyond superficial security assessments. So he didn't turn his head when a woman approached the counter, sat down, and practically yelled her order to the bartender over the music. He found it ironic, at the very least.

"Why do I even come to these clubs," the woman beside him quietly said, presumably to herself.

It was too good of an opportunity to pass up to not make a joke. His concentration broke and the full noise of the club returned.

"I myself have tried to figure that one out for quite some time," he said over the music. "If you happen to make any progress, you should publish your findings." He added a polite chuckle.

She turned her head quickly and looked directly at him with astonishment across her features. She looked like almost every other woman inside of the Outlander Club: dressed for the occasion, hair pulled back, drink in hand. She looked tired, and as the surprise faded from her features, he decided disappointed in something as well.

"I'm sorry," she looked up with a flush on her cheeks, and he realized that he had just caught her staring at him. "What did you say?"

He smiled sheepishly. "I was telling you why I come to these clubs."

"Oh." She then took another gulp of her drink and then placed it on the counter. "I sometimes lose track of my sense of hearing in these clubs. The music is so loud. By the end of the evening my throat is swollen because I have yelled so much."

Obi-Wan could relate to a degree. He wasn't fond of these establishments, and he wouldn't come if it weren't for his ability to focus his attention elsewhere.

"And yet we keep coming here. Or well, I am assuming that you actually do frequent these clubs, from your original statement."

"Well, yes, I suppose I do−" She paused, to grab her drink again and stand up. "But most of the time I grab my drink and wait for a booth to open up." She pointed over his shoulder. "Do you mind? I would rather not have to deal with the discomfort of a sore throat tomorrow morning, I have work..."

Obi-Wan thoughtfully smiled to himself. He hadn't exactly intended striking up a conversation, but with a sense of polite obligation, he had followed her and enjoyed speaking with her. At the time, Obi-Wan admitted to himself, he hadn't thought much of her beyond a temporary change in company when compared with Anakin. He knew then that she was fascinated and perhaps curious about him. Overall, as he looked back on the course of their relationship, he preferred their second outing at Dex's Diner because they had been able to speak more casually and comfortably, and he imagined that she preferred it as well in comparison to the Outlander Club. During his time away after immediately meeting her, Obi-Wan realized that he too had been intrigued by her, and in some ways had come to miss the small spark that made her different company than Anakin. They each had been drawn to one another, ultimately, though for different reasons. In some ways he didn't believe in fate or destiny, but he knew that the Force brought people together.

In fact, over the course of their relationship, it had taken so much longer for him to fully acknowledge his sentiments towards her, and beyond that, expressing them. He knew that her feelings ran deeper than admiration and respect despite her own attempts at suppressing and containing them. It had been so clear inside of the speeder port that evening, where water slid down the sides of their faces and his heart pounded harder than ever before. Part of him had believed that he needed to keep the relationship distanced, with a degree of detachment, while the other half didn't know what to do with her subtle admission of something stronger than friendship.

"All I wish to do is extend a small hand out to you, and perhaps you will take it sometime, if only for a moment... At least in that moment... you may feel stronger as a result. A brief, tenuous moment. Nothing lasts; but at least in that one moment it will always last."

Obi-Wan ran a hand over his face and let out a low groan. Her words rang too harshly true as he finished his drink. All he had were these moments. For everyone he loved all he had were fragments of the past; memories of Qui-Gon, of Anakin, and now of Claire. With all the hindsight in the galaxy he criticized himself for not being honest with her much sooner. He criticized himself for not seeing the signs of distress with Anakin. When he came back to her apartment the day after their meeting at Dex's Diner, asking for her help, he discovered his own admiration for her work, her knowledge, and her kindness. He had realized also that he loved and needed her, but despite all of his courage and bravery, Obi-Wan couldn't tell her. Instead, he gave mixed signals that weren't fair to her. In the end he was the coward who at least knew the texture and taste of her lips.

If I were a stronger man I would have told her before the war.

In the end she knew, despite going from moment to moment to the next. He constantly waited for the next chance to see her, to see her smile, to hear her voice, to watch as her lips curled into a smile over one of his jokes that were as dry as Tatooine, to touch and hold and kiss her. He wanted that second chance to make something in the galaxy right.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the memory core to run his fingers over the only thing he had to physically remember Claire and her droid. Obi-Wan desperately hoped that she found someplace safe within the galaxy. Given all of her sacrifice on his behalf, she more than deserved happiness.

He thanked the stars when he heard the news that the sandstorm had passed; stewing on the past wouldn't fix the original problem at hand. It was safe to leave the indoors and return to the previous task at hand: finding a shop that could repair vaporator parts. Many people left the cantina at the same time as Obi-Wan to see that the sun was going down. He unhitched his eopie from the indoor stable and made his way back to the main street where shops began to open again. Everything had a thin layer of dust covering it. He returned to searching, this time on foot and pulling his herbivorous companion with him. A strong headache developed and prickled in the back of his head, and he thought that maybe the alcohol was stronger than he had expected.

Eventually Obi-Wan found a place that seemed promising and still open: Deluska's Repair & Mechanical Emporium.

"So this here's the thrusters. These make the racer go fast." Claire then pointed towards the cooling mechanism with her wrench. "And this keeps it cool even when it gets very hot."

Work was slow today because of the sandstorm. She had thought about closing for the afternoon as a whole, but she decided that in spite of the weather people still did their shopping and business if it was necessary. In the mean time, however, Claire sat cross-legged before a large podracer explaining its mechanics to her three-year old daughter, Nadia, who likely didn't understand a word she was saying in the grand scheme of things. It didn't matter if the girl didn't understand the context or finer details, it made Nadia happy regardless and that was all the mattered.

"When you're older I'll take you to a pod-racing event at the local track." She ruffled Nadia's short auburn hair as the girl turned her head and smiled brightly. "Who knows, maybe you'll take part in one someday."

"What 's that Mama?" She pointed to some of the multi-colored wiring inside of one of the podracer's engine branches.

"That connects the turbines that make electricity, which powers it."

Claire enjoyed explaining things to Nadia, who was always curious about her mother's work. Whenever she had the chance, she wanted to participate and help in some way. Claire obliged when there were things Nadia could do to help, such as holding bolts or screws. At the same time it gave the girl an opportunity to learn basic lessons about math. There wasn't a formal schooling system on Tatooine unlike Corellia or Coruscant, but it hadn't surprised Claire.

"Let me just tighten up a few of these bolts and then I'll make us something to eat, alright? You run along to the kitchen and I'll meet you there."

Nadia nodded eagerly and headed out of the workshop while her mother returned diligently to the task at hand: fixing, tuning up, and modifying a regular customer's custom podracer. Earlier in the day she had replaced the old thrusters with the latest in technology that had arrived fresh from the markets of Corellia through contracts under the late Widow Deluksa's name. The widow had passed down the shop to Claire before her passing; her chronic illness had progressed until it became terminal. Their friendship had been a miracle for Claire, who, without the generosity of Widow Deluska, would have been, well, Claire didn't exactly like to spend time wondering where she'd be. It was a healthy business and it was work that she loved, so it didn't make sense to think about the alternatives.

Once she finished, Claire wiped her brow and stood up from her kneeling position. She removed the goggles that rested on her forehead, then her gloves, and placed them both on the small nearby workstation that was cluttered with spare parts and unfinished projects. As she began to unzip the dirty, oil-stained navy blue work jumpsuit, she heard low voices in the front room of the shop, one of which was Nadia's higher one. Something didn't feel right, something prickled in the back of her head, and she abandoned getting out of the jumpsuit in order to go the front room. She didn't like Nadia talking to her customers for a variety of reasons, though primarily because many were the seedy, dangerous, reckless mercenary types who couldn't be trusted, especially around children, and she liked to keep business and her personal affairs separate−

"...Nadia? That's a pretty name." A pause. "Could you find the person who works here, Nadia? I need to speak with them."

"Mama's in the back−"

Claire walked into the front room of her shop and saw a man kneeling down in front of Nadia with his hood obscuring his face. Her heart dropped into her stomach and she rushed over.

"Nadia, what did I tell you about talking to strangers−" She stopped beside Nadia and gently pulled her away from the cloaked stranger, who in turn stood up and lowered his hood.

"I'm sorry, I realize it's quite late in the day, but she was here and I didn't wish to intrude by calling out−"

When Claire turned her attention toward the customer, she knew that both of their hearts had stopped.

"Claire?−"

"Obi-Wan?−"

Claire shivered as he said her name and felt a strange combination of emotions settle inside of her. She blinked several times, fearful that this was a dream and that she was really fast asleep at her desk in her workshop. Obi-Wan's gaze fell between Nadia, who stood beside her mother, and Claire; he stood stiffly speechless.

"S-stars, I ain't hallucinating, am I?" She whispered after finding her voice.

He stepped forward and tentatively touched her cheek. Her breath came in sharply as his fingertips caressed her. They each hesitated, as if neither could believe this was real.

"You're telling me. I only had one drink." Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair and his blue-grey eyes widened.

Claire choked out a half-laugh, half-sob as a smile spread across her face.

Only Obi-Wan would make a joke like that.

As she realized this, she took his extended hand and kissed the pads of his fingers. He pulled Claire into his arms and embraced her tightly. His body shook as he breathed into her hair, buried his hand into the loose tangles, kissed her lips, and wet her jumpsuit with tears of relief and happiness. After losing so many of the Jedi Order, including some of his closest colleagues and his brother, Anakin, with the rise of the Empire and the Sith, he had her, he had Claire.

Despite having found her voice before, she could hardly speak when their lips parted. She held his head in her hands and could hardly keep herself together. She felt light-headed and dizzy in his arms. "It's really you. Stars, it's really you. You're here. You're alive, I-I had worried, I didn't know, I didn't hear from you, there were wanted signs everywhere−"

"It's... it's been a long road, hasn't it?"

"Too long."

"Too many bumps."

Claire groaned and shook her head as she nuzzled against Obi-Wan's neck. "No kidding."

She could feel him grinning against her and it was a full-body experience. It was overwhelming. She woke up this morning as if it were any other day, she couldn't believe it−Nadia suddenly tugged on her slightly opened jumpsuit and squeezed her leg, and Claire's stomach flipped. She pulled away from Obi-Wan and flushed brightly. She bit her lip and scratched her neck.

"I haven't formally introduced you to Nadia Elrin."

"Yes," Claire carefully observed Obi-Wan's reaction. She was overjoyed to see him offer a solemn half-hearted smile. "Your daughter."

Some of the light faded from his eyes, and Claire could almost sense it: disappointment, sadness, loneliness−

"You're kidding me," she said with a manic grin. "Please don't tell me you're that obtuse...Use that brilliant Jedi brain of yours."

He raised a brow and appeared hurt. He shrugged and frowned. "I don't follow."

"Obi-Wan, she's three years old." She paused in order to give him a chance to figure it out.

When he put the pieces together, when he understood what she was subtly implying, his eyes fell away from her to Nadia, who looked up at him with big blue eyes that matched his as she clutched to her mother. Nadia was completely unafraid of this man who was a stranger to her.

"I'm... You mean to say that I'm...She's−"

"Nadia is your daughter, Obi-Wan." She gently ruffled Nadia's hair, and as Obi-Wan knelt in front of his daughter, he mirrored the same gesture done to her mother: he cupped her cheek with his mouth slightly agape. "Nadia, this is Obi-Wan Kenobi. He's the papa I've told you about."

"The good man?"

"Yes, the good man." Claire's chest tightened. "But do you remember the word I used, sweetheart?"

"'Hero.'"

He then brought the small girl, his daughter, his Nadia, into his arms.

"I look like a mess," Claire said with a laugh as they followed Nadia into the back rooms after closing up the shop for the evening.

"You look beautiful."

She flashed a smirk over her shoulder and let out a content sigh. "There's so much to ask. So much to say I have no idea where to start."

"I want to apologize for not being there for you."

Claire stopped walking and was about to interrupt him, to tell him that it was alright, but he beat her to it.

"I need to say it. I know it can't change any of it, can't bring back the years lost already, but it's not fair for you to have to have gone through that alone."

After hesitating, she nodded. "I'll fully admit it wasn't easy. The first few days after I found out were rough. Traveling to the Outer Rim was probably the worst part. There were Imperials all along the way. I was so scared that someone would recognize me either from the medcenter or the Senate Tower's hangar. I didn't feel safe until I met my late boss Widow Deluska I wouldn't be here if it weren't for her."

They made dinner together: Bantha steak and vegetables. After everything was finished and prepared, the three of them shared a meal. She was incredulous the entire time. It still seemed too surreal, too dream-like. Worse off, too good to be true. She hated how these unshakeable feelings tried to ruin the moment of having a meal as a family for the first time. Their conversation focused solely on the present; the discussion about the past would have to wait until after Nadia fell asleep. Or that was how Claire wanted things to go.

"Papa, why haven't you been here with my mama? She's missed you lots."

Claire nearly choked on her lukewarm water. She coughed and was about to start profusely apologizing, but he frowned and tried to explain for the young girl.

"I should have been here for you both. But I was away trying to help protect others. The very last people of my order."

"Being a hero." Nadia frowned and picked at her food for the rest of the meal. "She spoke lots about you all the days."

Claire sighed and stopped eating. She didn't want him feeling any more guilty than he likely already felt. "So it's a broken vaporator?"

Obi-Wan's attention moved to Claire, but only momentarily.

"How come you never came and found mama and me?"

"I...I didn't know where to look." He looked ashamed and tired.

"Nadia," Claire stood from her seat to kneel beside her daughter. "If your father had known we were here he would have moved the very stars, all those pretty, colorful nebulas to find us, if he had the ability. Sometimes people..." she trailed off as she pushed strands of auburn hair out of the girl's soft, round face.

Deep down Claire couldn't believe that Obi-Wan had lived on Tatooine. Part of her found that fact to be a cruel miracle: something had brought her to the right planet but that something hadn't been strong enough to bring them immediately together. In the end she thought it coincidence and luck, because what higher power would bring two people to the same place but cruelly keep them apart?

"Sometimes families get separated." She paused again and flashed her eyes toward Obi-Wan. "But they always find a way back to each other. Families endure. And we're a family now."

As Claire returned to her seat, she mouthed the word 'sorry' to Obi-Wan and his eyes widened slightly. He shook his head.

"Claire you have nothing you need to apologize for."

She smiled half-heartedly as she changed the subject. "So the vaporator?"

"It... it snapped due to excess water pressure."She was relieved to see him drop the topic. "I didn't have it set up right." He shrugged. "Still getting used to everything."

"Well everything can be fixed if you put your heart into it." She winked to Nadia and offered Obi-Wan a sympathetic smile. "I've had to learn how to fix them, because customers constantly come in here asking for new parts and whatnot. Most of the farmers know how to fix 'em themselves. But they constantly break, so tomorrow after I send off this podracer I just finished I'll stop by and fix it up. It's a good thing you came to me, by the way. Most other mechanic folk on this rock aren't too trustworthy or reliable, let alone cheap."

Nadia sweetly chirped, "Mama's the best on all of Tatooine!"

It had been a lot to take in for one day for both Claire and Nadia. Claire had always imagined Obi-Wan to be a good father, just as he had been a good master to Anakin despite whatever doubts he held. Nadia wanted to hear a story from Obi-Wan this time.

"I want a real story." Nadia's head poked out from underneath her creamy sheets. "No engin-neering or hyper-coaxial-ion-thrusters-thinga-ma-jiggies."

Obi-Wan, who sat at her bedside, turned his head and raised an amused brow. Nadia appeared quite proud for pronouncing the words correctly.

"Oh, uhm," Claire gestured off-handedly, "sometimes I read from the latest issue of Mechanics Monthly. Not many books sold around here, let alone ones for children. Sometimes she likes hearing about the parts and whatnot. Sometimes I tell a story and she likes to hear it, sometimes she wants a different one."

"I want a good story, Papa."

"Did your mother ever tell you about how she helped me save a princess?"

Nadia's eyes lit up and she shook her head. "No! Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

"Well there's some knowledge about machinery involved..."

Claire laid down beside her daughter and brushed her fingers over the girl's forehead, pushing loose strands of hair away absent-mindedly. She wanted to hear his take on the story as much as Nadia.

"There once was a princess who was protected by two knights. One evening, a monster who could change its face tried to hurt the princess..."

As Claire listened to the story, she could see just how easily he slipped into the fatherly role and how much he enjoyed it. She smiled and found herself growing sleepy with her head feeling heavy with every passing moment, even though she wanted to hear the story. Eventually, she fell asleep faster before Nadia.

Nadia's room was adorned in decorations clearly made by her mother: from strung up lights to figurines welded from metal to posters of her own drawings made on partly used blue and white schematic sheets. When he was almost finished telling the story about Claire's help in protecting Princess (Senator) Amidala, Obi-Wan saw that they both were sleeping. Claire, still dressed in her dirty work clothes, looked peaceful as she rested. He leaned forward and placed a kiss upon Nadia's forehead and then stood from the bed and walked to the other side. He watched Claire sleep for a few moments and then lifted her limp form into his arms.

It wasn't difficult finding Claire's bedroom, because the decorations blatantly appeared to be another workspace with a small bed pushed into the corner. He admired her quarters because it was her home. Out of all the many things he had hoped for Claire, her finding and making a new home for herself had been one of them. In the far-most corner he saw DA-R1 sitting inactive.

"Admiring the furniture, Obi-Wan?"

He looked down and saw her smirking.

"I like what you've done with the place." He moved further into the room and placed her gently on her bed. He sat beside her. "It's very much you."

"A little disorganized and heavily metallic?"

"I have the memory core." He dug into his pocket and pulled out the shiny metallic chip, offering it to Claire.

"We'll activate her in the morning. Nadia'll want to see it. She'll love Dari, which is good, because she needs another friend besides me."

"Does she like mechanical things?"

"She loves everything." Claire reached up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. "She especially loves new things. You know how kids are. Curious about the whole world."

"Perhaps if she needs another friend, an organic one at that, I have someone in mind." He paused as Claire stood up to light a candle. The room illuminated partly, with a hazy orange glow. She then returned to sit by the side of his bed. Claire took his hands in order to remove the gloves. Suddenly she needed to feel their callous edges, needed to have them on her-

"He's a three-year old boy named Luke Skywalker."

Claire blinked. "You mean Anakin...?"

He sighed mournfully. "I hadn't seen it, Claire. I didn't know that Anakin had been in love with someone. He was my brother and I hadn't seen the signs−and I

should have, given how very much in love I was with you. I should have seen that he had found similar happiness."

Shivers prickled at her neck and her stomach flipped. "The mother?"

"Padme. Padme Amidala."

"Stars, I knew something was there! You're telling me! When he talked about her it seemed so explicitly obvious, but I just, I didn't know..." She ran a hand through her hair and squeezed his hand. "So then you did it, you helped Anakin? He's on Tatooine then−"

"No," his voice fell to a whisper. "I was too late. He's gone."

Her chest clenched because he had just admitted to the worst, most painful possibility he had feared: losing his brother completely.

"They had twins. A girl and a boy. Another senator took the girl to Alderaan, where she will be raised as an Organa. I brought Luke here to be with Anakin's relatives. No one will come looking on Tatooine. It's the last place anyone will ever look."

Claire frowned, wrapped her arm around him, and turned his frame so that they faced one another.

"You did everything you could and more." As Claire leaned forward, she whispered, "There's nothing we can do about the past. There's only the present, which is you and me, and the future, which is the three of us," she laughed and shrugged half-heartedly, "and four if you count Dari."

"You're staying for good, right? Because I swear Obi-Wan Kenobi if you tell me you're leaving for Kamino in the morning..." she closed the gap between them by placing a slow, lazy kiss upon his lips. When she pulled away, teasing him by pulling at his lower lip, she added, "Because I've got the necessary equipment to keep you tied to my bed."

Obi-Wan laughed and let himself fall back against her bed. "Farthest I'll be is the Dune Sea."

As Claire stalked over his body, she shook her head. "I don't know Obi-Wan, that's still mighty far..."

She allowed some of her weight to rest upon him and they shared long, tender kisses as his hands ran up her clothed back to burrow into her long hair. He kissed her as if he'd never have the chance again, like a parched man greedily drinking from a well. His name fell from her lips several times in quiet, desperate pants. When even her loosely fitted coveralls began to feel tight and bothersome, she sat up and began to unzip it until he stopped her. Obi-Wan sat up and pushed aside her hands, wanting instead to be the one to undress her. As the zipper fell lower and lower he saw that she was dressed lightly beneath the coveralls, and he presumed that it was because of the heat. Once her grey breast binder was additionally removed, he kissed her smooth collarbone and the top of each breast, with his beard tickling her and causing her to let out low giggles.

Soon enough the zipper was all the way down at its end, and Claire slipped away from him in order to step out of it completely. She grinned and blew out the candle, and only the small amount of light from Tatooine's three moons peered inside, illuminating everything inside of her room with a soft glow. Moments later they were finally together, skin upon skin, hands and legs intertwined together and it almost felt like everything was right in the galaxy again. This was where they belonged, together, and for the first time in their relationship, Claire didn't have to fear the next morning or the days to follow, didn't have to wait in uncertainty, because this was it, this was really it, he wouldn't ever leave her again. Even with the pain of exile, of loss, of sacrifice, they could find their slab of peace after looking for so long.

"Never let me go."

Obi-Wan's face was so close to her and their breaths mingled. His fingers trailed over her lips, leisurely plotting a course across her skin until they fell to her the slope of her shoulder, where her hair shined. His hair was sticking up somewhat as a result of her hands furiously running through it. He saw stars in her wide eyes, and he could feel her through something transcendental, something surreal and beyond the corporeal, something more powerful than anything else in the galaxy, and it was soft, warm. Claire knew what it was, and now she understood what Widow Deluska had spoken of: that her faith in Obi-Wan was well placed as it always was. He found her, he was finally home.

Neither Claire or Obi-Wan needed to go on alone ever again.