A New History

by Annie Walker

During a heated battle, Dooku escaped into the past! Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker follow to stop him, but discover that Dooku went to the past where Obi-Wan is a young padawan to a very much alive Qui-Gon Jinn. Now, the two must go undercover to stop Dooku's plans from coming to fruition in order to save not only the future, but also young Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn.

37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37: Acknowledge and Accept

No one had seen Qui-Gon in four days.

Since Tahl's funeral, he vanished without much of a word as to where he was going or what he was going to do. Anakin worried. He didn't know Qui-Gon for very long, but he didn't suspect him to be a man who disappeared without a trace. He called Qui-Gon several times on his comlink, but he never answered. It remained silent.

And it only made Anakin more paranoid.

"He'll be back, Anakin," Obi-Wan said as he poured a cup of cafe for Anakin. "Patience."

"Easy for you to say," Anakin grunted, taking the proffered drink. "You weren't the one responsible for her death."

"And neither were you," Obi-Wan quickly added as he prepared his morning tea, his preferred drink. "We already talked about this. Master Tahl chose her own path. She made her decision and we must honor it."

He didn't need to hear the speech again. Hearing it once was good enough. "I don't think it was her decision to die, Master," Anakin almost snarled. "That choice was made by another."

Obi-Wan poured the kettle and steamed engulfed his face. "That was not what I was referring to," he said quietly. "She didn't decide to die, Anakin. She chose to save the padawan. Based off what you said, she jumped in front of the boy when Jango pulled out a knife."

Anakin remembered it well. He had just been knocked aside and Padawan Kenobi came to his aid. Yet, he wasn't quite skilled in hand-to-hand combat. Jango Fett had pulled a knife and, before Anakin could do anything, Master Tahl dove in front and was gutted instead of the boy. There was so much blood pouring out of the wound. Even from the first stab, Anakin knew she was dead.

"She shouldn't have died," Anakin murmured into his cup. "It wasn't her responsibility."

"If you told that to her, she would have argued it was," Obi-Wan commented, swirling his tea with a tiny spoon. "Master Tahl was an extraordinary Jedi. She would publically say it was her duty to protect the padawan."

"Publically?"

Obi-Wan placed the spoon down and raised his cup to his lips. "Yes, but privately," he said with a tiny smile hidden behind his beard, "she would have said she loved him enough to die for him."

Anakin's cup slipped and cafe spilled over his hand. He ignored the touch of heat that burned into his flesh. "What?"

Obi-Wan took a long sip of his tea before lowering it down to meet Anakin's bewildered gaze. "Don't act so surprised, Anakin. You've seen her interact with us," he indicated. "She was like a mother to me. Well—what I imagined a mother might be at least. I admired and respected her. And she, of course, doted on me and treated me kindly."

Anakin hardly got the chance to interact with Master Tahl as much as he would like to. But, based off what he remembered, she did appear very warm to Padawan Kenobi and the padawan seemed to generally care for her as well. Padawan Kenobi even once spent the night at Master Tahl's place when their apartment was attacked. It was the first place Qui-Gon took his padawan after the attack. They both went straight to Master Tahl. Not Yoda. Not Mace. Not someone on the Council.

They both went straight to Master Tahl. And she promised to protect him like he was her own padawan.

Anakin placed his cup on the counter. "No wonder he's chosen to stay cooped up in his room," he said, glancing down the corridor to where Padawan Kenobi barricaded himself. "I understand the loss of a mother."

Obi-Wan's eyes glanced down at his tea in avoidance. A touchy subject both Jedi avoided. Anakin's last moments with his mother (and his actions afterwards) haunted him enough to feel waves of uncontrollable guilt and depression. And, Obi-Wan… as a Jedi, he knew better than to mention it. Though as a friend, he did comfort him the best he could do when he learned of the horrifying truth.

"It will take time," Obi-Wan said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Qui-Gon especially. My younger self will come around soon enough."

"You sure about that?" Anakin questioned. "It's been four days, Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon hasn't returned and little you refuses to come out unless I threatened him."

"They're just hurting Anakin," Obi-Wan claimed. "They lost someone dear to them. Just give them time. Patience and understanding is all that we can offer in their time of need. Of all the Jedi, you and I both know what they are going through." Obi-Wan took another drink from his cup.

Anakin moved across the floor, leaning against the wall on the opposite side of Obi-Wan. "How are you feeling, Master?"

Obi-Wan looked up from his tea. "I'm sorry?"

"This must be hard for you too," Anakin said. "You knew Tahl very well."

"Indeed I did. But, she died a long time ago in my life," Obi-Wan reminded his old padawan. "I've… I have let go of that attachment."

"So you don't feel loss at all?" Anakin accused. "You don't care?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, I do care. I feel loss, but not as… not as strong as I did before," Obi-Wan explained. "Master Tahl died when I was sixteen. Not fourteen. But, nonetheless, I lost her already. Even with her standing in front of me, she was already gone.

"I'm not saying her death didn't sadden me. It did," Obi-Wan said further. "I guess, in a way, I was mentally and emotionally prepared to lose her, unlike my younger self and Qui-Gon."

Anakin crossed his arms, thinking. "So, you're not as grief stricken as them because you went through it once before?"

"In a way," Obi-Wan agreed. "Doesn't mean it still doesn't hurt. I'm just unfortunate enough to be numb to it all."

And what was worse? Anakin thought. To be numb to strong emotions or to be vulnerable to them? Anakin sometimes was jealous of Obi-Wan's lack of emotions and was eager to possess that stability that he obtained that kept him grounded. Unlike Anakin, who always felt like he was battling a war within himself. Yet, seeing the cold distance and loneliness of Obi-Wan's life, Anakin was thankful to have his bursting emotions that helped him connect with others and be able to freely love the people he loved most.

But, at the very moment, he would gladly swap for his master's emotional devoid. "Does the suffering ever end, Master?" Anakin inquired. "Or are we bound to always live in pain?"

Obi-Wan's eyes flickered to Anakin with concern. "Pain is inevitable, my old padawan," he said. "Suffering, however, is optional. You mourn those you loss and then remember to live on and carry their memories, lessons and spirit with you as you grow. It's the only way to bypass suffering."

Or by making sure they never die, Anakin thought. Suffering wasn't optional. Not for him. He could not shred away the guilt and anger and sadness that came with every memory of his mother. Or the time he believed Obi-Wan to have died from that sniper. Every memory and token of Obi-Wan's riled Anakin up into a knot of combustible emotions. Pain and suffering were twins. They came together as one. Anakin could not have one without the other.

So, suffering wasn't optional. It was inevitable too.

It's the reason why he would go to great lengths to save Padme, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka from any and all dangers. He would never let them die. Never let them feel any pain or sadness or suffering. None of them would ever suffer.

He recoiled at the faint memory of Padawan Kenobi suffering, sobbing in blood and begging Anakin to save Tahl. He saw the wrecked face and hunched shoulders of a boy whose world collapsed onto him without warning. And, Anakin—he couldn't do anything to ease his suffering.

"There has to be something else we can do?" Anakin finally spoke out to Obi-Wan. "We can't just sit here and let the two suffer alone."

Obi-Wan pushed his tea aside, folding his hands carefully in front of him. "Anakin, you cannot force someone to feel differently," he said gently before sighing. "I know that you want to fix things—"

"That's not it, Master," Anakin argued, thinking of something to counter Obi-Wan's observation. "Is it not the duty of a Jedi to help those in need?"

His old master pensively stared at him, his brow crinkled. "Of course, but is our help selfless?" Obi-Wan questioned. "Or selfish?"

"Selfless."

Obi-Wan shook his head, returning to his tea. "Give them more time, Anakin," he said. "Bad times don't last. They'll heal when they are ready to move past the pain and toward the light. All we can do in the meantime is let them know we're there waiting for them to return."

Anakin glanced back down the corridor. Padme said something similar to him the days after his mother's death and Obi-Wan's fake death. The process of healing from loss was unique and different for everyone. Time healed all. Anakin, again, doubted that truth. The memory of his mother always hurt.

But, his love for Padme and his friendship with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka helped distracted him from the pain. That was what Padawan Kenobi needed. Staying locked in his room and moping wouldn't lead him to healing. Interacting with people and even sparring would do the padawan some good.

"I'm going to drag him to the salles," Anakin declared while Obi-Wan resigned to his tea. "He needs some exercise."

Anakin marched to the door and knocked. As expected, he received silence. "Obi-Wan?" Anakin followed their daily script. "Come on out."

Silence.

"Obi-Wan? I will drag you out and whip your ass in the salles."

Not a single word.

Anakin's eyebrows trailed up his forehead questionably. Something was wrong. Anakin reached out to the Force and expected to sense waves of grief emitting from Padawan Kenobi. He didn't sense anything. Just emptiness.

Something was definitely wrong.

Anakin punched the pad and the door slid opened. One look in the room raised the alarm. Anakin yelled for Obi-Wan, who appeared next to him in seconds. "I think our patience is up," Anakin warned, gesturing to the bedroom.

The padawan was not inside nor was his robe and pack. Padawan Kenobi had ran away.

---

Four days. It's been four days since Obi-Wan last saw his master.

When Qui-Gon returned from the Works District, he hadn't said a word or even looked at him. During the funeral service, Obi-Wan stood at his master's side to support him. As they lit the pyre, Obi-Wan observed Qui-Gon to see dead eyes staring out at the rising flames. He remembered how the flames rose higher, consuming all that was left of Tahl. Obi-Wan recalled looking at his Master to see the flames reflecting in his eyes and a scowl beginning to form.

Once the service was over, Qui-Gon swept out like a bat. He left with great stride and abandonment while Obi-Wan looked on. Since then, he hadn't seen his master.

Every morning since the funeral, Obi-Wan woke early to make tea in hope Qui-Gon would return home. It was naïve to think making tea could lure his master back or even receive forgiveness. Yet, he did it every single morning. He rose from his bed, the night still blackening the skies, and silently walked across the apartment to not wake either Anakin or Jedi Kenobi. He brew two cups of tea—one for Qui-Gon and one for him. Then he waited. And waited, and waited, and waited. He waited until he knew Qui-Gon was going to return and retreated back into his hole.

And coming to the fourth day, Obi-Wan came to the conclusion that Qui-Gon was never coming back. Not when the person waiting at home was the reason the love of his life was dead. Obi-Wan did not blame him. After all, the bounty hunters and the Sith Lord only wanted him dead. Already two extraordinary Jedi have been murdered in his place along with several innocent lives. No one else needed to die.

Perhaps it would be best for the Order—and for Qui-Gon—if he simply left.

He packed his bag and grabbed his robe, departing very early in the morning and shielding his Force presence from Jedi Kenobi and Anakin. He didn't want to alert them of his departure for he knew they would prevent his exit. And, he needed to leave. He could no longer stay inside the Temple. Not after everything that happened. Not after Tahl's death.

He bumbled his way around large, touristy groups until he arrived at Galactic City Spaceport and purchased the first ticket off Coruscant. The unfortunate part of his exit was that he must wait three hours for his flight. So, with his hood obscuring his facial features that would make it difficult for anyone to realize he was a former Jedi. No need to alert either the Jedi, bounty hunters or even the Sith to his whereabouts.

He sat alone in the far corner of the spaceport hanger, which gave him plenty of time and space to reflect on his decision. Perhaps he was reckless to leave abruptly, but it was for the best. After all, the Jedi Order sent him away once before. They declared him unfit for the role of a Jedi and unwanted by all the masters.

Obi-Wan minded his business as busy commuters bustled in front of him. He didn't see them though. His mind was preoccupied with dreadful recollections. He recalled with horrifying accuracy on Tahl's last stand: her diving in front of him, the soft squish of a knife plunging into her skin as a sharp rasp of breath escaped from her lips.

He could still feel Tahl's essence on his face, wiping away his tears before she gave her last words. A cruel world indeed. And it seemed his life would only be riddled with cruelties.

It was his fault Master Tahl died. A blame he must shoulder forever. But how? Master Yoda told him to let go, rejoice and honor her. He found it hard to follow Yoda's wisdom as rejoice did not come and honoring her was done in flames and ash. There was nothing left of her. Only the memory of her finger wiping away a tear.

"Padawan Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan jerked his head up, jolted at hearing a familiar voice calling out his name. He glanced around and spotted Senator Palpatine standing just a few feet away from him, cloaked in a heavy material. His expression was one of surprise and concern as he swiftly closed the distance between the two. Obi-Wan quickly rose to his feet to bow before the senator.

The senator didn't give him the chance as he stood only a feet away from him. "So it is you," he said as a way of greeting. "What brings you here?"

Obi-Wan answered vaguely. "I'm awaiting transportation off-planet."

Senator Palpatine concurred with such bland details and decided another approach. "Don't the Jedi have their own for such travels? Why use a public transit?"

Obi-Wan's mouth curled inward as he thought of a possible deflection. His hesitation, however, was noticed by the senator. Palpatine grasped the situation and gestured the padawan to take his seat once more. "Sit down, my boy," he said. They both sat down as passengers walked passed in giggly excitement. "I take it your High Council isn't aware that you are here."

Obi-Wan shook his head.

"And Master Jinn?"

"I don't know where he is," Obi-Wan admitted, crossly. "So it would be safe to assume he does not know where I am either."

Senator Palpatine scrutinized Obi-Wan with an empathic frown. "I'm guessing there's trouble in the Temple. I heard of Master Tahl's untimely death. Did you know her well?"

Obi-Wan's heart shuttered inside its jailed cage. Delicately, he nodded. "I knew her," he murmured. "She was a friend of my master's."

Senator Palpatine was kind enough to look saddened. "I'm terribly sorry," he said, which garnered Obi-Wan to spare him a look. "It must be difficult for Master Jinn. And for you as well, my boy."

Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing away from the senator. He did not need the pity. He wasn't the victim. He was a bystander who did nothing. He deserved no pity.

Senator Palpatine drew out a long sigh as he drew his hands to his lap. "Loss is a very hard thing to overcome," he said, gently. "For even simple folks like myself, we struggle to move onward."

That was very much the truth for Obi-Wan. His heart was heavy and no release came to him. He was stuck in the same moment where Tahl left him. He could not get past that he lost. That his very existence still walked the planet while Tahl's did not. It should have been the other way around. He should be ash and she should be alive.

Senator Palpatine leaned in and lowered his voice. "I'm a good listener padawan," he said very kindly. "You can tell me anything. I'll listen with an open mind and heart."

Obi-Wan abandoned his meal to look at the senator with a curious glance. One look at the Senator made him resemble a man with genteel nature and uncle-qualities. Someone who would provide advice, encouragement and comfort when not founded anywhere else. In one glance, Obi-Wan saw a good, decent man.

But, the Force wavered in the man's presence. No warning. No blaring instincts to run or fight. Just a quiver. Like a pebble thrown in a massive lake. Innocent and harmless, yet leaving quite a wake. There was something about this senator in front of him that Obi-Wan could not pinpoint exactly. Neither could Qui-Gon, which was probably why he ordered Obi-Wan to stay away from him. Somehow, despite their efforts, Senator Palpatine always managed to find him.

The will of the Force? Or something else?

Obi-Wan shuffled his arms into the sleeves of his robes. He would have liked to talk to someone about Tahl. He wanted to speak to his master, but Qui-Gon fled and disappeared. He couldn't talk to Anakin or Jedi Kenobi—too embarrassed to admit a flaw in front of grand Jedi Knights. And, none of them have offered anything to help him. Only a threat if he didn't come and eat.

He needed someone to talk to. Someone who may at least have some understanding of the emotions he had developed. Emotions that were taboo in the Jedi Order. Obi-Wan flickered a glance at the awaiting senator. "Have you ever lost someone, Senator?"

Senator Palpatine cocked his head in thought, eyes falling into a misty remembrance. "Yes," he murmured and he went silent for a few seconds. "Yes… when I was just a little older than you, I lost my entire family."

That… that was not what Obi-Wan expected to hear. "I'm sorry," he said in his quick reaction to the news.

"Thank you for the gesture," Senator Palpatine said, appreciatively. "It happened many, many years ago. I was away when they were murdered. An unfortunate bit of luck on my part." Senator Palpatine stared straight ahead, lost in his memories. "I was supposed to be there, you know. At the lake house. But I got caught up with something and was late and—" Senator Palpatine unsteadily inhaled. "Of course, it was all too late. They were murdered and the culprit has yet to be caught."

Suddenly, Obi-Wan felt even guiltier for his broody behavior when Senator Palpatine confessed that his whole family was murdered. Obi-Wan may have lost Tahl, but he didn't lose his entire Jedi family! Not like Senator Palpatine, who only had family to rely on in his life. And, it that one ill-fated day, it was taken away. Obi-Wan couldn't—didn't—ever imagine that type of grief. To lose everyone and everything. All in one swoop.

Obi-Wan reevaluated the man beside him. Here was a man who understood completely what it meant to lose someone close and have survivor's remorse. "I'm sorry that happened," Obi-Wan quietly empathize. "I did not mean to inflict pain onto you."

Senator Palpatine dismissed Obi-Wan's apologies with a lazy flick of his hand. "Like I said, it was many years ago. Every life has some measure of sorrow. And, it is that measurement that awakens us to our full potential."

Obi-Wan raised his brows questionably. "I don't quite understand what you mean, Senator," he said.

"What I mean, my boy, is that the sorrow I felt helped me become the man I am today," Senator Palpatine explained. "My family's murder and the injustice of it gave me focus. Gave me the strength I needed to save the galaxy from the pain I felt."

Obi-Wan had no doubt what Senator Palpatine was referring to behind his carefully worded sentences. "A Jedi knows no emotions," he recited from his lessons.

"Then why are you here and not at the Temple?" Senator Palpatine posed and the question itself already knocked Obi-Wan off-balanced. He concurred that the senator was intelligent and that he wasn't merely having a discussion. He was playing a game of dejerk.

"I'm sorry if I bothered you Senator with my own anxieties," Obi-Wan said, realizing he had no desire to indulge the senator to ridicule the Jedi Order or Code. "I should let you carry on with your duties."

Obi-Wan readied to leave, but the senator's touch on his arm forced him to stop mid-rise. Obi-Wan looked down at the senator's hand on his arm. It didn't hurt nor was it forceful, but there was an indication that he was demanded to stay.

"My apologies, my boy," Senator Palpatine said, dragging Obi-Wan back into his seat. "I did not mean to offend you or your Order. I was only merely asking."

Obi-Wan dipped his head in reverence. "Of course, I'm sorry for being curt with you," he apologized. "It's unbecoming."

"Nonsense! You've been through so much already this past week," Senator Palpatine stated. "I only meant to say that it is all right to feel emotions. You are human after all, Obi-Wan. It's natural to feel grief, anger and love."

"A Jedi doesn't—"

"I know. I know," Senator Palpatine gently patted Obi-Wan's shoulder. "But, doesn't having emotions show you care? Aren't Jedi supposed to show compassion? If humans were without emotions, are we any better than beasts?"

All validating questions to wonder, though Obi-Wan wasn't quite sure how to respond. He was raised to believe emotions to be crippling. To ruin a person and send them spiraling in to the darkness that would corrupt their very souls. Turn them into monsters. Like a Sith Lord.

But, Senator Palpatine's reasoning sounded logical. Emotions gave them the ability to care about others. Emotions gave them the ability to fight for the greater good. Emotions, in a sense, gave them the ability to find purpose. If removed emotions like the Code instructed, then he would be empty. Heartless. And a Jedi could not be heartless.

Obi-Wan's understanding of such matter must have shown through for Senator Palpatine lightly chuckled at him. "You see, my boy? Emotions do not weaken you. It makes you stronger. Use them… strengthen yourself so that you can protect others from the pain you feel."

Obi-Wan fell silent, revisiting everything he ever knew about emotions and the Jedi Code. Was the Jedi Order wrong? It seemed impossible for such a prestigious establishment to be mistaken, but was that not ignorance? The Jedi Order could be wrong. Qui-Gon always believed in the concept of thinking for oneself and challenging authority. He often said it was their responsibility to challenge authority to ensure that fairness was given and those in power were accountable.

But, wasn't challenging the Code hearsay? Treasonous?

"I see you are still disturbed by this revelation," Senator Palpatine's voice broke through Obi-Wan's crowded thoughts. "I did not mean to upset you even more. I only meant to show you comfort and understanding. We all lose, but it doesn't mean we have to suffer."

Obi-Wan dimly nodded his head. "Of course, Senator. I—I am gracious for your thoughts and kindness."

"I'm glad to be of some assistance in your time of need," Senator Palpatine said. "I only strive to help the people of this galaxy. Including yourself."

Obi-Wan politely smiled at Senator Palpatine's offerings despite the jabbing sensation he felt in the Force. "Thank you, Senator."

Senator Palpatine's smile widened and they sat together for a moment, watching travelers happily greet familiar faces or rush madly through the crowd to reach their ship. Senator Palpatine sighed heavily after the short moment of peace and turned away from the crowd back to Obi-Wan. "So, Padawan Kenobi? Where do you go from here?"

Obi-Wan glanced at his rumpled ticket. "I—I don't know."

"Are you not going to return to the Temple?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I… I can't. Even after all this talk, I don't think I can go back. I'm… I'm not fit to be a Jedi."

Senator Palpatine sat back, startled, as if he could not credit his own hearing. "No longer a Jedi?" he finally said, careful in his words. "You have decided to leave the Order for good? I thought you wanted nothing more than to become a Jedi Knight?"

Yes, he did tell Senator Palpatine that he only ever wanted to become a Jedi Knight. That he saw no other occupation or life outside the Jedi Order. But, it was different now. Things changed. And, so has his path.

"It's for the best," Obi-Wan said, retreating again and falling silent.

Senator Palpatine tilted his head to Obi-Wan's withdrawal. "If you believe so," he said and he rested his hands on his lap and his blue, steely eyes on Obi-Wan. "If not a Jedi then, what do you plan to do with your young life?"

Obi-Wan hadn't given it much thought. His only course of action was to get as far away from Coruscant and the Jedi as possible. He figured he could work out the finer details once he settled somewhere. "I had not yet considered my position yet," he disclosed to the senator. "I was once told to become a farmer. Perhaps I will do that."

"A farmer?" Senator Palpatine deadpanned. He was unconvinced at such a blasphemy idea. "Surely you can be more than a farmer, Obi-Wan. You are a very special boy."

"Being a farmer is an honorable occupation," Obi-Wan defended, despite his earlier reluctance of becoming one a year ago. "They help feed the many through their hard work."

"True," Senator Palpatine agreed, "but a young man of such caliber like yourself would not find it fulfilling."

Another old thought he had when he was sent to Bandomeer. He told Qui-Gon, before he was forced away from the Temple, that he was meant to be a Jedi Knight. That he was not meant to be a dull farmer. Qui-Gon did not believe so and encouraged him to follow the will of the Force that led him to that path. Obi-Wan believed it was not the will of the Force, but the will of others.

Even now, thinking of himself as a farmer, gave him no satisfaction. "Perhaps not, but it is better than being nothing," Obi-Wan told the senator. "In time, I may find a new purpose."

Senator Palpatine still did not look very convinced or satisfied with such strategy. "My boy—if I may—I like to propose an idea to you."

Obi-Wan readjusted himself, signaling his readiness to listen.

The senator turned in his seat so that his whole focus was on Obi-Wan and nothing else. "I am about to head to Naboo for a short trip. Political matters," he said. "Why don't you accompany me? You are most certainly welcomed to stay in my home in Theed while you rest and consider your future."

A generous proposal indeed! Obi-Wan glanced at his ticket. It was to Christophsis, a distant planet in the Outer Rims. Far away from Coruscant and the Jedi Order. But, Naboo was just as far and Senator Palpatine did offer housing. One less concern for him to worry upon arrival in a strange land. It would help him immensely and give him a better focus into figuring out what he needed to do outside the Jedi Order.

However… "Thank you Senator," he started, "but I do not wish to hinder your political affairs or burden you with my presence. I'll be fine on my own."

"Nonsense, my dear boy! I would not offer if I thought it would be a burden," Senator Palpatine claimed and only encouraged his decision. "Naboo is a beautiful planet. And the weather is quite nice at this time of year. You will find it to be very peaceful, my young friend."

Obi-Wan thought it over. It sounded quite nice and it would give him ample time to refocus his new life. "Thank you Senator," Obi-Wan's frown slowly moved to a smile. "I would be happy to accompany you to Naboo."

Senator Palpatine burst into a genuine smile. He rose to his feet rather abruptly, in great haste. "Come my boy!" he helped Obi-Wan to his feet, directing him to follow his footsteps. "My private shuttle is on the other side—"

"OBI-WAN!"

Both Obi-Wan and Senator Palpatine both turned to a young man sprinting toward them. Passengers zipped out of the tall man's way, making a path directly to Obi-Wan. His hair was wrangled and tossed, vibrant, blue eyes flashing furiously and in deep relief. In a matter of seconds, Anakin Skywalker went from one side of the crowded to directly in front of Obi-Wan, arms reaching out and grabbing both shoulders.

"Obi-Wan!" Anakin assailed him, fingers digging into his shoulder. The tall man's face contorted into a mess of utter relief and anger as he clinically inspected every inch of him. Then he assaulted the young boy with questions. "Are you all right? Are you hurt? Why are you here? Why did you leave? What were you thinking?"

Obi-Wan's eyes fluttered rapidly, bewildered by the sudden appearance and interrogation from Anakin. Eventually, Anakin's questioning cooled off and he just gave a deep sigh. "I'm happy to find you," he told the padawan and then he glanced to Senator Palpatine, who watched the whole spiel in quiet—if a bit annoyed—fascination. "Thank you Chan—Senator Palpatine. For looking after him."

Senator Palpatine tipped his head, but showed no recognition that he did it as a favor to Anakin or any other Jedi. "But of course, Master Jedi. I wouldn't have left a young boy here alone who needed a shoulder to lean on," he said in a rich, cultured voice. "In fact, I have just invited young Obi-Wan to join me on my trip to Naboo."

"That's not necessary, Senator," Anakin assured the Senator, drawing Obi-Wan to him and away from Senator Palpatine. "I'll take him back home."

"Actually—"

Anakin stopped and raised a single brow of his eyes. "Yes, Senator?"

Senator Palpatine locked his hands behind his back, tilting his chin up to compensate the height difference. "Young Kenobi has no desire to return to the Temple, isn't that right?"

Both Senator Palpatine and Anakin peered down at him. Obi-Wan bounced between them, wishing to simply disappear into the Force and run. But, running wouldn't solve the problem. Only prolong it. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Anakin wasn't supposed to be here and he was supposed to be off Coruscant.

It appeared the Force had no desire to make Obi-Wan's life simple.

Anakin's hands dropped to his waist. "Is that true, Obi-Wan?" he asked, shortly. "You want to leave the Jedi Order?"

Obi-Wan rocked on his feet, feeling very conflicted. He looked to Senator Palpatine, remembering his kind offer and assistance. But, then the Force's gentle wave pushed him toward Anakin. A song of marches and purpose. A song he could not get out of his head or ignore the beat in his heart. But the pain tightened, coiling around him and trying to squeeze the life out of him. He tried to practice the Jedi mantra. He repeated the lines taught to him by wise masters of the Order: there is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity…

It failed. Every line he repeated only drowned him in the reality of torment and burden. There was no promise of relief. There would never be a promise of relief. Would he be able to accept that?

Obi-Wan shuffled under their scrutiny. "I-I don't know. I just can't… I can't be there! Not with… not after everything," Tears threatened to spill and Obi-Wan built a resistance in hopes of keeping a mature face. "I'm not fit to be a Jedi."

Anakin reeled at the statement like Obi-Wan had kick him straight in the gut. "What?" he gasped. "Obi-Wan… what nonsense is that? Not fit to be a Jedi? That's crazy talk," he dismissed. "You're a Jedi. You're meant to be a Jedi!"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I was once."

Anakin gaped at him, oddly strange like he wasn't looking at a weird creature than him. Anakin shook his head violently. "Okay—I'm not even sure you're Obi-Wan. But, let's just go home and we can talk whatever is bothering you."

Anakin reached for Obi-Wan's arm, but Obi-Wan stepped away from Anakin's reach and closer to the senator. "I'm not going back."

An infinitesimal twitch of Anakin's mouth alerted Obi-Wan of a dire warning that he pushed Anakin to some sort of edge. Anakin's eyes hooded, a cold fire flaring behind those blue clarity. "Yes. You. Are." Anakin emphasized every single word, glazing every word in serious.

Obi-Wan met the challenge. "No, I'm not," he replied in kind. "I—I can't!"

Anakin breathed deeply through his nose and his face flushed a deep, crimson red. "If need be, I will drag you back to the Temple," Anakin threatened in a low growl. "So—either keep your dignity or lose it."

Another threat. It was always a threat! He didn't doubt Anakin's sincerity of using actual force to bring him back to the Temple. He imagined Anakin has done it before, but Obi-Wan would not go along with it. If must be, he would put up a fight.

Their stand-off stalled, however, when Senator Palpatine made a small cough sound to gain attention. Both Jedi looked to the senator. "Pardon my disruption, but," he stepped closer to Obi-Wan, half blocking Anakin from him, "I insist you step away from the boy. As a politician dedicated to serving the Republic, I do not tolerate threats. Please—step away from the boy."

Anakin shot a peeved look at the senator. "I'm sorry, Senator," he said, his tone much nicer than his mood. "This is Jedi business."

"I believe Obi-Wan had just stated he had no wish to return to the Temple and forfeited his role as a Jedi," Senator Palpatine countered Anakin. "He's a Republic citizen; therefore, it's no longer Jedi business."

"Sorry Senator, but I insist that he—"

"What? Lock him up in the Temple? Remove his right to leave?"

"The Temple is not a prison," Anakin snarled. "And I wouldn't treat Obi-Wan as a prisoner either."

Senator Palpatine straightened back his shoulders. Prestige and full of power. "Yet you refuse him the right to leave? Threatening to drag him back! Sounds like a prison and its prisoner."

There was no more familiar and warm regards from Anakin to Senator Palpatine. Not like before. A shadow of disturbance casted over Anakin's face. A look of questionable morals and insight like Anakin was personally betrayed by Senator Palpatine. A man he defended against Qui-Gon Jinn.

Suddenly, Anakin looked away and back down to Obi-Wan. The darkness ebbed away, a softness of guilt eased away the stressed lines along Anakin's forehead. "Obi-Wan," He said his name so quietly that he sound dishearten and Obi-Wan felt guilt crawling up his gut. Anakin drifted away, spacing him apart from Senator Palpatine and Obi-Wan. "I… I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do. If you want to leave the Order, I won't stop you. I get it. I do. Just…" Anakin's shoulders sagged, looking despondent but understandable. Even if pain lingered in his eyes, a recognition and kindred spirit alike between them. It was almost like Anakin truly did understand Obi-Wan's emotional turmoil and desire to depart from the Order. Was it possible that he did? Did Anakin actually once considered leaving the Order like he was doing now?

Anakin sighed as his eyes slid to Obi-Wan's small face. "There are people at the Temple who are worried about you. Who care about you. Remember that," he softly pleaded. "Wherever you go, just remember that. Okay?"

Anakin turned his back, stepping away from them and into the crowd of onlookers. Obi-Wan watched Anakin slunk away, his dark, prominent figure moving into the crowd. The Force twisted like a vine wrapping around its prey. It was squeezing out of him. The further Anakin distanced himself, the more the Force seemed to drain from Obi-Wan. A darkness overlapped his light, sucking him dry. His knees wobbled. He felt fragile, ready to break and shatter into different pieces.

Senator Palpatine rested a hand to steady him, looking concern. "Obi-Wan? Are you okay?"

His vision blurred, feeling utterly weak as the Force withdrew from him. Obi-Wan tried to reach out, but it kept moving away. Like Anakin.

And it was then that Obi-Wan could no longer endure it. He was making a mistake. He felt it straight to his bones now. Leaving with Senator Palpatine, running away from all of his problems wouldn't make it go away. With his last strength, Obi-Wan broke away from Senator Palpatine's tight grip and rushed to Anakin's retreating back. "Anakin!"

Anakin stopped and turned in time to catch Obi-Wan. "Easy there, padawan."

Obi-Wan took several deep breaths to steady himself as Anakin suggested. The Force returned to him and the darkness crept away as light returned, forcing the leering shadows back. Breathing became easier and he felt lighter and better standing next to Anakin. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean…"

Anakin ended Obi-Wan's sentence with a swift hand gesture. "It's okay," he assured the boy with an easy smile. "Let's go home. We can talk there. I promise."

Obi-Wan nodded as Anakin wrapped an arm around him, feeling shielded. Then he remembered. "Hold up."

Obi-Wan ran back to where Senator Palpatine stood, coming to a halt and bowed deep in respect to the Senator like a proper Jedi. "Thank you Senator for your generosity and advice," he said. "I appreciate it, but… I'm a Jedi. That's my calling."

Senator Palpatine graced him with a smile, though it did not quite reach to his eyes. "I'm happy to hear," he said. "However, if you ever need to talk or anything at all, do not hesitate to contact me. I'll always be there for a friend. Wherever and whenever."

Obi-Wan bowed once again. "Thank you, Senator," he said as he stepped back to return to Anakin. "Have a safe trip to Naboo and may the Force be with you."

"As you as well, my boy."

Obi-Wan retreated away from the senator, returning to Anakin's vibrant presence. Little did he know that behind them both, a pair of sickly yellow eyes narrowed bitterly at them and once tranquil features fell into several lines of severe displeasure.

---

Obi-Wan ended his call with Anakin. To his great relief, Anakin found the young padawan at the Galactic City Spaceport and prevented his departure. Hopefully, Anakin could settle the padawan down without any threats.

Obi-Wan promised to meet them back at the apartment, but he didn't tell them it would be immediate. Instead, Obi-Wan found himself standing right outside a cantina. A place riled of unsavory individuals. He was not a fan of these squalors, but he would admit that these places do have their use. It was only unfortunate that it wasn't the use Obi-Wan hoped.

He stepped across the threshold, eyeing the different customers that lounged at the tables and bar. Some glanced his way. Girls eyed him seductively and guys glared at him questionably. He ignored both, checking face to face until he came across the one he wanted.

Qui-Gon Jinn was not a man easy to hide. He stood out with his rather large, unrefined stature, but it was the waves of grief that bellowed from him that led Obi-Wan to the exact location. Obi-Wan stealthily maneuvered his way toward his old master and slid onto the empty stool next to him.

Qui-Gon didn't even offer an acknowledgment. Luckily, Obi-Wan didn't expect one. He ushered the bartender and ordered his usual drink as he folded his hands on top of the sticky bar. The waiter returned and gave Obi-Wan his drink. It was—after all—night somewhere in the galaxy.

Obi-Wan took a long drink. "So, how long have you been here?" he asked without looking at Qui-Gon. "All night? Or all week?"

Qui-Gon twisted the glass in his hand. The drink itself nearly depleted. He raised it to his lips and tipped it back, taking a few more sips as the ice cubes dammed his mouth. Slowly, once the contents were gone, he dropped it down on the bar and called for another one.

"You surprise me," Qui-Gon muttered. "I wouldn't suspect you to willingly walk into such an uncivilized establishment."

The corners of Obi-Wan's mouth tugged in jest. "As you very well know," Obi-Wan said, swirling his glass. "A padawan's place is beside his master. I go wherever you go."

"If only that were true," Qui-Gon muttered as the bartender returned and refreshed Qui-Gon's glass. "Why are you here, Obi-Wan?"

"I'm here because you're here."

Qui-Gon huffed and he took a swing from his new drink. "You may tell the Council that they don't need to send a babysitter."

"The Council didn't send me," Obi-Wan informed his old master. "Your padawan did."

Qui-Gon merely lifted his eyebrows. He didn't comment. Only looked straight ahead. Obi-Wan sighed despondently. "Master—he's worried about you. We all are."

"As you can see," Qui-Gon indicated to himself, "I'm fine."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, forgetting how stubborn his former master could be. "You're not fine, Master. Far from it. You're a wreck. And you smell of whiskey and sewage," he noted with a curl of his nostrils as he took his coaster napkin and wiped the ledge clean. "Master Tahl—"

Qui-Gon slammed his glass hard on the bar, a whip-like crack reverberating inside the bar. A handful of customers glanced their way in anticipation of a fight. There would be no fight… unless Qui-Gon started it. Obi-Wan shooed the onlookers, flashing his lightsaber to signaled Jedi business. The customers scurried away to the far corner of the cantina.

Qui-Gon's muscles bunched together, fingers squeezing the glass. A deep scowl emerging behind the trimmed beard. "Don't."

Obi-Wan was treading on thin ice. Any word or movement could send him straight down into an icy depths. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "It was inconsiderate. I know what she meant to you."

Qui-Gon gave a derisive snort. "No, you don't."

Didn't he? Obi-Wan thought back to Satine. Her pageant figure and rich hair tied in a ridiculous headdress fluttered across his mind. Her sweet breath caressing his neck when she rested her head in the nook of his neck. He remembered holding her as she declared her love for him. Her very last words.

Obi-Wan folded his arms on the bar. He didn't fault Qui-Gon for his tactless retort. "You forget that I am not your actual padawan," he said, still calm. "I've lived for more than fourteen years. Seen more and experienced more." Obi-Wan raised his glass and took a long sip. "I understand your loss. Far more than you may think."

It was Qui-Gon's turn to look apologetic. He gazed at Obi-Wan in the corner of his eyes, the muscles in his jaw slacking. He regarded him differently, a subtle sympathy flitting in those sad eyes. "What was her name?"

Satine. Her name was Satine. Beautiful, ambitious, kind, stubborn and a delusional dreamer. But… still Satine.

"Does her name matter?" Obi-Wan said into his glass and he tipped it back, drinking all that was left. He casted the glass aside. "She was an extraordinary woman. The only person to ever doubt my calling as a Jedi."

"Doubt your calling?" Qui-Gon sounded surprised. "An extraordinary woman, indeed."

"You would have liked her."

"I'm sure." A pregnant pause. "How did she die?"

Obi-Wan looked to the bartender and called for another drink. "She was murdered by an old enemy of mine," he began the tale. Her death only happened a few months ago and he still struggled to keep his voice even. "She was… very brave."

The bartender returned with a new drink and Obi-Wan quickly swiped it and drank to hide his face from Qui-Gon's staring.

Qui-Gon's breaths shallowed at the indication of what Obi-Wan left unsaid. "You watched her die."

Obi-Wan lowered his glass. "And she watched me die," he swirled his drink, but didn't take another sip. Instead he opted to hunch over the bar, looking back into Qui-Gon's sad eyes. "I only wished she never loved me. Then, she may have lived and enjoyed a more happy life."

The two sat in a long silence as the crowd behind them carried on, dragging their numb bodies out the door as the bartender slowly tried to clean up the night's mess. Qui-Gon fondly handled his glass, only taking tiny sips to finish his glass. "I'm sorry," Qui-Gon said after their long remembrance.

"Your sympathies are much appreciated," Obi-Wan said, "but I didn't drag myself to this infested establishment to speak of my loss."

"I have no wish to discuss mine." Qui-Gon said, crossly.

Obi-Wan restrained himself from rolling his eyes. An unfortunate habit he picked up from Anakin. "Master—you are not alone in your grief."

Qui-Gon's quiet glare threatened a rising backlash. "Grief cannot be shared. It is carried alone and burdened alone."

"Yet you have a padawan who eagerly awaits for your return. Who wakes extremely early to make two cups of tea and then sits and waits for no one," Obi-Wan related to his old master, which made Qui-Gon's eyebrows arched in confusion. "But, yes, of course, grief is an experience one handles alone."

Despite the padawan's great effort to not make a single sound, Obi-Wan always woke to the boy making two cups of tea and watched him sit at the table in anticipation of Qui-Gon's return. And every morning, he witnessed the padawan's sad realization of his master not coming home that day.

"He's in pain, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan quieted. "He grieves as well."

Qui-Gon thoughtlessly snipped, "Why? He hardly knew her."

And Obi-Wan flinched. The casual cruelty of refusal to recognize another's heartache was not the master Obi-Wan remembered. A man full of compassion would never be so callous of another's well-being. Certainly this was not Master Jinn. "Don't act obtuse with me, Master," Obi-Wan said every word with purpose and precision. A deadly strike against his master. "You weren't the only important person in Master Tahl's life. Look beyond yourself. Beyond your pain and you may realize that you're not the only one suffering."

He finished with a loud crescendo, drawing a few curious (and scared) customers in their general direction. But, Obi-Wan didn't care. The only thing that mattered was to strike at home with Qui-Gon. To set his master straight again like he did the last time.

Qui-Gon didn't flinch, but Obi-Wan knew he listened and heard of the accusation. Heard the truth and Obi-Wan only hoped it reawakened his master's compassionate side once more.

"Your padawan is lost, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan implored, hoping to drive the point right through Qui-Gon's thick skull. "He needs you."

Qui-Gon brushed off his concerns with a helpless shrug. "He has you and Anakin."

Right. Well… "If he only needed Anakin and I," Obi-Wan started, agitated by Qui-Gon's insensitive attitude, "then why did he run away?"

That certainly got Qui-Gon's attention. He nearly shot right off his stool, his voice a loud yelp. "What?"

Obi-Wan pulled his massive master back to his seat. "He's fine. I got a call from Anakin before I came in," he relayed to Qui-Gon. "He found him at the Galactic City Spaceport."

"What was he doing there?!"

"Apparently, he wanted to hitch a ride off Coruscant."

Qui-Gon ran his large hands over his face and head, mumbling. "What was he thinking?"

"I told you," Obi-Wan repeated, firmly. "You are not alone in your grief. Your padawan is lost in grief and guilt and worse—he feels alone, abandoned. He needs you, Qui-Gon. He needs his master."

Qui-Gon twisted his glass and lowered his head so that his eyes could not be seen. "I'm not so certain that I would be good for him at the moment," he confessed. "As you already pointed out, I'm not entirely appropriate."

"I don't think that matters. Not to him."

Qui-Gon drew out a very long sigh. "Of course not," he said with a fond smile. "Many Jedi Masters, including the Council, would frown on such sentimentality," Qui-Gon looked at his drink. "Attachment."

"Is it an attachment or a desire to connect with someone who may understand him?" Obi-Wan quizzed. "Someone he could freely talk to without fear of earning disproval?"

Qui-Gon concurred to Obi-Wan's statement. "Be as it may, it's too soon. I can't talk about… about…"

It was Obi-Wan's turn to sigh, drawing himself closer to his former master. "If you cannot talk to another person who shared a special connection to Tahl, then how do you purpose to move on?" he questioned his master, whose face subtly tightened upon Tahl's name. "Attachment is forbidden, Master. It's the root of suffering. Neither you nor your padawan should be alone in grief. It will only lead to a much darker path."

Qui-Gon kept a vague expression when he lifted his head and stared at Obi-Wan. "Is that what you did?"

Obi-Wan solemnly nodded. "Anakin was a big help. He may not have realized it, but… he kept me sane. My anchor, I guess." He folded his hands together, remembering those hard days right after Satine's death. "I couldn't lose myself to grief's madness when Anakin and others counted on me. Needed my guidance.

"I won't lie. It was hard. It took a lot of time and meditation, but… my broken heart kept beating," Obi-Wan concluded. "I turned my focus to Anakin, the Order, the war, the Republic. I had a duty to perform. People to protect." He stroked his beard, reminiscing Satine's last words. "It was what she would have wanted me to do. And I honored her death by fighting for the greater good."

Qui-Gon seemed to have absorbed this, his eyes pensive in his silence. He swirled his glass again, the ice clanking against each other. A bell rang out in the cramp cantina and the bartender pointed to the exit doors. It was that time for all to depart. To give the employer a brief recess before the night's veil fell over the sunny skies. Customers groaned and shuffled to the exit in clumsy wakes. Many slammed their tab money on the counter in front of the bartender, who eagerly swept his earnings into his palm.

The only people who didn't inch their way to the doors were Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. And a green humanoid woman who's very revealing dress left no imagination to anyone. She squeezed herself between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, glancing hungrily at both of them, seemingly unaware of the somber mood between them. Or, not caring.

Her greedy eyes fell long on Obi-Wan, her finger sliding down his beard. "You want a ride, pretty?"

Not only rude, but crude. Manners are nearly nonexistent in such levels. Why need manners when they all treat each other like scums and prostitutes? That was no excuse in Obi-Wan's mind though. "Thank you for offering such… hospitality," he said. "However, I must decline."

The humanoid shrugged and turned to Qui-Gon next, curling her finger around one of Qui-Gon's long strands of hair. "What about you? Need to go somewhere else?"

Qui-Gon had no patience. He flipped his hand up. "You will leave and never come back."

The humanoid's eyes glazed over. "I will leave and never come back."

Obi-Wan watched the woman ghostly depart, like she was transfixed by something in front of her and she simply followed it. It did not surprise Obi-Wan that Qui-Gon resorted to mind tricks to remove distractions. Especially unnecessary distractions.

Qui-Gon cared less to check if his mind trick worked. He took another drink, letting the dark contents flow smoothly down his throat. Obi-Wan signaled to the bartender who stood in the corner, glowering at them in a futile attempt to push them to the exit. He marched over and Obi-Wan gave him a sizeable amount of credits as a token of gratitude and of course, for the drinks.

"I've said all that I came to say and much more," Obi-Wan rose from his stool and pushed it under. "I'm afraid the rest is up to you. If you wish to move pass this suffering, you may follow me out," he offered. "If you prefer to drown in your sorrows, I believe you will need to refresh that drink."

Qui-Gon glowered at Obi-Wan's remarks, but said nothing. Obi-Wan tugged on his robes, pulling them close as he threw up his hood. "Again, Master, I am deeply sorry for your loss."

And, he turned his back onto his old master, knowing very well he could not control the man. He said his words and made his peace. The rest was for Qui-Gon to decide. He hoped he would make the right decision, but if he didn't, Obi-Wan realized he would need to step it up. Him and Anakin, for Padawan Kenobi would need all the assistance and care to overcome the guilt that blackened his heart.

Obi-Wan pushed the door opened, the Coruscant's sun blaring down on him as he shielded his flickering eyes from its cruelty. He headed straight to his speeder, hopping in its seat and adjusting the gears for takeoff. He gave one last, fleeting glance to the cantina.

He smiled.

---

Anakin made a simple breakfast. He wasn't the cook in the family. That title belonged to Obi-Wan. Even Padme hardly knew how to create a good meal, relying heavily on Threepio's assistance in the kitchen. Obi-Wan never required much assistance. Only the occasional assistance in stirring or pacing different ingredients into his hands. Otherwise, Anakin stayed out of the kitchen.

To both of their grave unfortunates, Obi-Wan didn't come home right away. That left Anakin in charge of getting the padawan to eat. So, he quickly rummaged through the cabinets and haphazardly made tea and toasts.

They would have a more hearty meal at noon when Obi-Wan returned and cooked.

Padawan Kenobi hardly ate though. He only nibbled on the toast, crumbs tumbling from his lips to the plate. He drank his tea in silence as he saw across from Anakin, who stared intensely at him, waiting for the boy to start speaking.

But, Padawan Kenobi didn't say a word. Not a single word since their departure from the spaceport. Anakin thought Padawan Kenobi would have a million things to say. Instead, he had nothing. Only silence filled in the gap between then, the measurement of the tension brewing.

Unlike Obi-Wan and Padawan Kenobi, Anakin never appreciated the silence when there was so much to say. He ruptured the silence with his words. "So—care to say anything?"

Padawan Kenobi's eyes flipped up from his tea. "I'd prefer to remain silent in order to avoid any further repercussions for my outing."

Clever, Anakin thought. Even now he had a way with words. "I'm not going to reprimand you, Obi-Wan," he affirmed, casually reclining in his seat. "Far from it. You think you're the only one in the Temple to sneak out?"

Padawan Kenobi only stared and then shrugged unknowingly.

Anakin chuckled. "Listen—I get the need to escape. But, I don't think you were escaping," he spectated, drilling fingers on the table. Padawan Kenobi took the moment to hide his face in his tea. "You can tell me, you know? Like I said at the spaceport, I do understand what you're going through."

Padawan Kenobi lowered his cup, eyes squinted at him. "Do you?"

It wasn't a challenge. That much Anakin knew. Faint hope entwined the padawan's words. He truly wanted Anakin to affirm his hopes.

Anakin slouched in his seat as a ripple of guilt plunged his heart into an icy river. He remembered—with terrible accuracy—what happened at the Tusken camp. The emptiness that drove him into a raging destroyer, slaying all that caused him pain. Then the sudden quiet. The dawning realization of failure and murder. His heart ached at the memory of his mother's last words and the weight of her body getting heavier in his arms.

Yes, he remembered. And since then, little things would jolt him back to that darkness in his history. His beaten mother—dead. Limbs flying in the air after a whish of blue light. And the children… crying. He never forgot. Time slowly healed him and so did Padme's love. But, during the war, when he came across slaughtered villages done by the Separatists, he would remember. The horrible feeling returned and left him dead inside.

"I—I… I do. I lost my mother too," Anakin said, faintly. "She died… in my arms."

The image of his mother appeared before him. Whole and healthy, a wide smile underneath the two suns. Then, she shriveled into the dark, bones broken and skin cut opened. Her eyes, once filled were left empty and desolate. Like a vacated premise of someone who lived. It terrified him to see his mother like that, staring without looking. It wasn't her and yet, it was her all the same.

Padawan Kenobi shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the dreary silence. "I'm sorry."

Yes—the automatic response. A meaningless phrase said to one with grief. Anakin merely shrugged. "As I was saying, I understand. I love my mother. When she died… I got angry. I was in pain and I… I, too, wanted to escape from it all," Escape the pain and all of its sufferings. "But it never let me go."

Padawan Kenobi sat back and offered, "There is no emotion, there is peace."

Anakin let out a disdainful snort. "Yeah… peace," he said, sarcastic. "The greatest lie ever told."

Padawan Kenobi's mouth flapped open, surprised at the blatant disrespect to the Jedi's honorable Code. Predictable to see the padawan scandalized. After all, he's Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan would have dropped dead if he heard Anakin.

"That's hearsay!" Padawan Kenobi uttered in a loud gasp.

"Hearsay or truth?" Anakin challenged with slanted brows. "We all experience emotions. Are you telling me that you don't feel sad or guilty?" Padawan Kenobi retreated, eyes elsewhere in submission. "Yeah—I didn't think so. Denying them is unnatural. Without emotions, how could we show compassion or mercy?"

"The Code states—"

"I know what the Code says," Anakin waved his hand dismissively, his mood quickly fouling. "But, in my opinion, the Code is wrong. There are emotions! We all have emotions and lying about it won't solve anything or make things disappear."

Padawan Kenobi sat in silence for a long minute. Anakin could see the boy's mind wrapping around the idea of accepting emotions and not forgoing them as instructed in the crèche. It must be a strange and traitorous idea. Obi-Wan often warned Anakin to let go of his emotions, preaching the Code more often than complimenting Anakin on good deeds and accomplishments. It must be devastating for the young padawan to come to the terms that everything he believed might be utterly wrong.

While feeling a bit guilty for shattering the boy's ignorance, he was grateful that Padawan Kenobi may soon come to the same understanding as he did. Emotions weren't bad. It was okay to feel sad, happy, pride and anger. It kept them a step above from being those idiotic battledroids.

Padawan Kenobi wrapped his small hands around his tea cup. "So you're saying I should express my emotions. And not release them into the Force?" he enquired. "If I get mad, I should vent and rage? I don't think indulging in emotions is safe for Force sensitives."

Anakin shook his head. "Not exactly. I meant… don't ignore them. Don't push them away or pretend they don't exist," he said. "Acknowledge them. Accept them." His gaze settled on the boy, his eyes riddled with so many questions and doubts. "Obi-Wan?"

The boy lifted his head.

"In the end, it's okay to be sad. It's okay to cry and miss Tahl," Anakin reassured the boy. "It's okay to be mad at the man who killed her. It's okay to feel lonely and need Qui-Gon for comfort." He paused for a moment, hand going to his hair. "It's okay to admit all those things. I won't judge you for it. You lost someone who was special to you. Someone who you relied on and it hurts that she's gone."

Anakin saw the mistiness return to Padawan Kenobi's eyes. "All you have to do is find an anchor. Someone to help pull you back if you get too far out," he said and he thought of his beautiful, angelic wife. "Like I said at the spaceport. You have people here who care about you and want to make sure you're okay."

Padawan Kenobi dimly nodded and Anakin wasn't quite sure if the boy heard him. But, he said what was needed to be said. Not all emotions were bad. Not all of them were crippling to life. He needed Padawan Kenobi to know that. It was okay to feel. It was healthy to feel emotions.

Anakin heard a chime and turned his head to the door. Obi-Wan stepped through the threshold followed by a waft of cigarettes and alcohol. Anakin cringed at the stench. "Drinking this early Master?"

Obi-Wan casually shrugged one shoulder. "When the time calls for it," he said. "But, I didn't go in with the intentions to drink."

No. Of course not. His trips to the local cantinas were always for professional purposes. "I suppose you would want to shower? To remove the last essence of your… diplomatic conventions."

Obi-Wan was not humored by the jab. "Actually—I came to drop someone off."

Seconds later after Obi-Wan moved himself away from the door, Qui-Gon ducked inside. His tall, overbearing posture filled the room with normalcy. The broken pieces left in Tahl's death slowly molded back together again and the Force presence that flowed through them reconnected and balanced each other out again.

It was… calming. Peaceful.

Anakin rose to his feet at once and crossed the distance. He took his arms and wrapped them in a tight embrace around Qui-Gon, head resting on the master's shoulder. He didn't care that the man smelled of sewage or that his breath reeked of whiskey. None of that mattered. He was here. Their family was whole again.

Finally, Anakin let go. "Welcome home, Qui-Gon."

---

Seeing Qui-Gon again was like standing underneath sun. It warmed him and the Force electrified in delight. His master returned. Obi-Wan was not an abandoned padawan. Qui-Gon came back. Came back for him.

Anakin had gone up to his master and hugged him tight. Another emotional display that Obi-Wan was sure the Council would frown upon.

Acknowledge them. Accept them.

Obi-Wan reeled with the knowledge and opinions Anakin said. It was unheard of a Jedi to verbally assault the Jedi Code and preach differently. But, Obi-Wan long ago came to the realization that Anakin was no ordinary Jedi. For starters, he knew his mother. Obi-Wan didn't know his mother, but Anakin spoke of fondness and anger when he spoke of her death. Emotional—an unbecoming trait of a Jedi.

"Welcome home, Qui-Gon," Anakin said as he broke away from him.

Qui-Gon dipped his head in a grateful nod. "Good to come back," he said, but his red-rimmed eyes fished around until landing kindly on Obi-Wan. "If you excuse me, I would like to speak to my padawan."

Anakin glanced over his shoulder and at Obi-Wan. "Yeah… I think the two of you have a lot to talk about."

"Anakin and I will go," Jedi Kenobi offered, taking Anakin by the shoulder and ushering him to the door. "We could use some sparring practice anyway."

"Er… right," Anakin agreed and the two took their leave.

The apartment fell quiet and master and apprentice just stared at one another. Silent words passed between. Apologies and pain seeping in their Force presence. So many things to talk about, to discuss and explain.

Qui-Gon cleared his throat. "I'll put on the kettle."

"I can do that Master," Obi-Wan scuttled out of his chair, but Qui-Gon raised a burly hand to stop him.

"That's quite all right, my padawan," Qui-Gon said. "I dare say, you've made enough tea for me this week. It's about time I make one for you."

The comment caused Obi-Wan to come to a screeching halt. "You… you know about the teas?"

Qui-Gon nodded.

"How?" Qui-Gon never came home. There was no way for him to know he woke early every day to make tea for him.

"Your older self passed it along to me," Qui-Gon answered and he refilled the kettle and put it over the stove. He reached into the cupboards, grabbing two cups and the box of tea leaves. "He was quite worried about you."

Obi-Wan squirmed where he stood. He didn't realize that Jedi Kenobi and Anakin were awake. He thought they were asleep. They looked asleep when he checked. Brilliant pair of actors.

"It was nothing," Obi-Wan tried to subdue his embarrassment. "I was fine. I just—"

Qui-Gon gave him a piercing look of disbelief. "I wouldn't use the word 'fine' to describe your state of being, Obi-Wan," he opined. "Nor would I describe my experience as 'fine' either."

Obi-Wan's shoulders dipped and he nodded respectfully. "Of course, Master. I didn't mean to make it trivial," he apologized. "I only said it to not worry you."

"And that makes me even more worried," Qui-Gon pointed out. The kettle whistled and Qui-Gon removed it from the stove. He positioned the tea leaves and poured steaming water into both cups. "Come, Obi-Wan," he shepherded Obi-Wan to follow. "Let us sit more comfortably."

Obi-Wan joined his master on the couch, sitting next to him as he accepted his new, warm tea. He took a drink, unsure of what to do other than taste the tea his master prepared. It was much better than the tea Anakin concocted.

Qui-Gon drank his as well, taking deep gulps despite the heat. After a few drinks, he looked down at his small padawan. "I was told you tried to leave Coruscant."

Obi-Wan lowered his face. "Yes, Master."

"Where were you planning to go?"

"I bought a ticket to Christophsis," Obi-Wan replied, "but then received a generous offer to Naboo."

Qui-Gon slowly nodded, running a finger along his whiskery, untamed beard. "Naboo… peaceful planet," he commented. "I could see you doing well there."

Obi-Wan grimaced at Qui-Gon's statement and turned a cold shoulder. "I don't think I would."

"Oh?"

Obi-Wan placed his cup on the table. "I was never meant to leave the Jedi Order. I know that now. I am meant to be a Jedi Knight. But, I let my emotions cloud my judgment," he said. "What I did was reckless and inconsiderate, Master. I apologize for my actions and my disrespect—"

Qui-Gon eased a large hand on Obi-Wan's hand, startling and stopping his rambling apologies. "It is not you who owes and apology," he lamented. "It's I who should be apologizing to you."

"That's… that's not necessary, Master," Obi-Wan spluttered.

"I think so," Qui-Gon disagreed and he too placed his tea cup on the table. "I left you—without a word or explanation of where I was going. In a way, I abandoned you."

Yes, he did. He left without a word and made Obi-Wan wonder cruelly about the future and riddled his conscious with doubts and blame over Tahl's death. "I thought… I thought you were angry at me," Obi-Wan murmured. "I thought you wouldn't come back until I was gone."

"And that is why you chose to run."

Obi-Wan nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Again, do not apologize," Qui-Gon reiterated. "It's my failings. Not yours." He leaned back in the couch, a longing look of reminisce veiling his eyes. "Tahl was a very good friend of mine, Obi-Wan. Her death shocked and disturbed me. She is—was—an important person in my life. Her death plummeted me in my own pain. And in my pain I forgot that while she was important to me, I wasn't the only person important in her life."

Obi-Wan's chest tightened and he folded his hands inside his robes to hide his discomfort. The gesture did not go unnoticed. "Tahl cared about you very much, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon informed Obi-Wan. "She was very fond of you."

Obi-Wan's throat constricted. Flashes of Tahl zoomed across his mind. Smiles. Gold-striped eyes. Laughter. Teases. And the soft touch against a cheek and words of telling him to be brave.

His eyes fluttered quickly, trying hard to stop the rising tide. He pressed his mouth together, holding a straight line of defense. "I… I liked her too and I…," he slowly managed to edge out, trying to control his breathing. His lungs contorted and he suddenly choked out, "… I'm sorry, Master. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for her to die. I didn't want her to die for me and I… I…" Obi-Wan sniffled as his nose began to run. "I miss her, Qui-Gon. I miss her… and I missed you."

Qui-Gon dipped his chin, eyes focused on Obi-Wan with hints of empathy. "I know," he spoke very softly. His arm loped around Obi-Wan, pulling the padawan close to him so that he nearly folded into Qui-Gon's robes. "I know."

Obi-Wan didn't even realized he was crying. In between his choked sobs, all he could feel was a sudden release of burden. There was no longer any guilt or anger or loneliness. He clung onto his master's robes, holding tight as he felt a hand rub against his back. Even in his tears of mourning, he felt utterly at peace.

Was this what Anakin meant? Acknowledging and accepting emotions. To not pretend emotions do not exist and hide them away behind locked doors. Is this what it felt like to unlock that dark door and relieve its burdens?

If it was, Obi-Wan never felt more at peace than that moment in Qui-Gon's arms, crying over their shared grief of loss.

Several minutes went by before Obi-Wan let go and wiped away the remnants of his cry. He was a shade paler and a little shakier, but he felt better. And as he fixed his robes and Qui-Gon's arm slipped from his shoulders, Obi-Wan thought back to Anakin's words.

The Code is wrong. There are emotions!

Not hearsay. Truth. Emotions were undeniable. There were emotions… but there was peace too.

Emotions, but peace.

Qui-Gon waited briefly as Obi-Wan pulled himself together. "Please, Padawan, accept my apology," Qui-Gon offered and Obi-Wan noticed that his red-rimmed eyes were glossy and cheeks tinted red. "It was not my intention to leave you so cruelly in the dark. Forgive me for my failings as a master."

Stunned silence invaded the apartment, settling rightfully between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. It was the first time that his Master Qui-Gon Jinn ever sought forgiveness. He admitted mistakes, but never asked forgiveness for those mistakes. This was the first, and Obi-Wan was rightfully frozen to the bones at the confession.

"I forgive you, Master," Obi-Wan said. "Will you forgive me?"

Qui-Gon gave a small, sad smile. "Of course, my padawan."

And, like that, the Force came to a cool, gentle flow. It flowed in and out with ease and softness that Obi-Wan knew peace settled within him. All was well.

---

"You're not quite up to your game today."

It was a rather obvious observation. Anakin wasn't entirely into the sparring match against Obi-Wan. He did his best, but his focus wasn't driven on winning like normal. Which is probably why Obi-Wan easily beat him down to the mat and drew up his blue saber near his neck.

Obi-Wan helped him up and Anakin brushed away imaginary dust from his clothes. "I'm afraid my mind is elsewhere."

"Oh?" Obi-Wan said as he grabbed two towels and threw one to Anakin. "Does it have to do with Qui-Gon and the padawan?"

Anakin shook his head. "Not that, but a little with the padawan."

Obi-Wan dabbed his damp forehead. "What about him?"

Anakin hooked his lightsaber to his utility belt and moved closer to Obi-Wan. "When I found him at the spaceport, he wasn't alone."

That made Obi-Wan's eyebrows rise. "Who was with him?"

"Palpatine."

And Obi-Wan's eyebrows immediately came back down in a tight V shape. "I see. What was he doing with the boy?"

"Nothing from what I could tell," Anakin said. "He only offered to take the padawan to Naboo and then tried to shield your padawan self from me."

"Shield?"

"Long story," Anakin muttered as he buried his face in the towel. He wiped all the sweat off from his face, leaving him feeling spectacularly dry and damp at the same time. "But, it wasn't the senator so much than the padawan."

Obi-Wan cocked his head to the side and leaned back against the wall. "What happened?"

"When I told him we were coming back to the Temple, the padawan… he didn't act like himself," Anakin confessed. "He seemed more agitated and angry. He spoke nonsense too. About not being fit as a Jedi.

"And then Palpatine came to his defense and tried to keep me away from him," Anakin described, still feeling that dark stirring in the Force he felt back at the spaceport. "Like… I was some lunatic trying to hurt the padawan."

Obi-Wan carefully nodded his head, running a hand along his beard as he pensively glared at the floor. "How very interesting," he murmured. "Yet the boy is here?"

Anakin threw the towel behind his neck, holding it on both ends. "Yeah, well, it was only after I turned away from him and headed back to my speeder did he start running after me and apologizing," he said. "It was… weird. Like something wasn't right."

Obi-Wan folded his arms across his chest, still thinking over Anakin's tale. "Interesting, and a bit ironic."

Anakin's brows rose quizzically. "What's ironic about it?"

"I feel the same way about you every time you come back from visiting Palpatine."

That made Anakin stiffened. "What? I don't act…"

Obi-Wan chuckled lightly, his eyes lit. "Oh, yes you do," he insisted. "Every time. You come back feeling less controlled. Angrier, agitated and sometimes just depressed. Why do you think I never approved of these visits?"

"Jealously?"

Obi-Wan eyes drew to slits, peeved. "Don't mistake me as a youngling, Anakin," he chided. "No—I didn't like you visiting the Chancellor because I thought it made you feel worse. You never returned from his offices feeling better. Just worse. And, I didn't care to be the receiver of those emotions when they burst out."

Anakin's gazed dropped, recalling all of his moments when he was with Chancellor Palpatine and the moments afterwards. He did recall feeling of inflation when he was inside the Chancellor's office, but afterwards, he recalled a more darkly impressions. He even remembered Padme getting sour for his irritable mood after a visit from his office.

Anakin let the towel slip off his neck. "Huh? I never realized…"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Yeah, well, others besides myself noticed," he claimed. "Ahsoka, Captain Rex and even Padme."

Anakin's eyes widened upon hearing his wife's name from Obi-Wan's lips. "Padme?"

Obi-Wan nodded, oblivious to Anakin's charged reaction. "Yes, I remember her calling me late one night asking about you," he remembered. "She was worried. Said she ran into you right after a meeting with the Chancellor and said that you weren't acting like yourself. She asked me if everything was okay."

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her the normal response," Obi-Wan said, "That you were fine last I checked, but I would go and talk to you. She was thankful and left it at that."

Must have been the same night Padme kicked him out, Anakin thought. "Oh… I-I didn't realize," he mumbled. "How often do you and Padme communicate?"

Obi-Wan doesn't even offer the effort to act surprise by the question. "Only when it concerns you of Jedi assistance with the war. Otherwise, we merely say hello and pass along tidings if we come across one another by accident."

"Oh."

Obi-Wan studied Anakin for few seconds, making Anakin's nerves twitch like he was under a blaster's barrel. Anakin quickly threw his towel in the laundry bin next to the locker and turned a shoulder to Obi-Wan to hide from his peering glare. "Anyway, my point is that it got me concerned," he said to throw Obi-Wan off his trail. "You never act in such a manner and Palpatine's meddling threw me off, I guess. I don't know. I felt a certain unbalance."

Obi-Wan scratched underneath his chin. "Then perhaps we should follow Qui-Gon's instructions," he suggested. "Keep Obi-Wan away from the senator and other politicians."

Anakin concurred. "Okay, but… I still don't get Palpatine's behavior. I thought he supported the Jedi Order?"

Obi-Wan dropped his towel in the bin before making his way to the exit. "Politicians are fickle, Anakin," he said. "They are only supportive of a cause or person if they gain something in return. Senator Palpatine finds my padawan self to be… important because of all the attention. He hopes to develop a relationship that may further his goals."

"Chancellor Palpatine never did that to me?" Anakin said, meekly. He knew it sounded bad and he knew that, deep down, it wasn't true either.

Obi-Wan's hand reached the door and Anakin followed behind him. "Anakin—you are the greatest Jedi Knight to ever live and you are on the greatest heroes the Republic has ever seen. Your support in him already gives him the power he wants. I thought you knew that."

The door opened and Obi-Wan walked out, calling dibs on the fresher and not realizing that Anakin didn't quickly follow him out. He hesitated in his footsteps, thinking about what Obi-Wan stated. All his life, Anakin looked to Palpatine as a close friend, a grandfatherly mentor who doted on him and said everything he wanted to hear. He supported and comforted Anakin when he knew Obi-Wan could never offer.

Yet, hearing Obi-Wan say otherwise and witnessing Palpatine's manipulative behavior, it shattered that image into tiny pieces. It left him scarred and bleeding all at once.

Was his friendship with Palpatine a power grab all along? Did he truly care about his well-being? Or was he only being played in order to help him stay in power?

Questions that plagued him as he went to catch up with Obi-Wan.

---

Qui-Gon could no longer ignore the call. He dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his comlink. The number was strange. He's never seen it before, but the Force already told him who was trying to get a hold of him. He didn't need to know the owner of those numbers.

He checked the room again. He sent Obi-Wan to his bedroom to sleep off the weight of what they discussed and meditated. His padawan had no qualms and he dragged himself to his bed. He fell asleep before he hit the pillow.

Once he knew he could not be overheard, Qui-Gon answered the call.

A small, blue holo-image shot up from the screen. An elderly gentleman of fancy taste appeared, looking sharply up at Qui-Gon. "I was wondering if you were ever going to answer."

"Apologies, my master," Qui-Gon said, dipping his head in a respective low. "I've been busy of late and this week was very… tiring."

Master Dooku accepted his reasoning with a curt nod. "I heard. How are you faring?"

"I've been better, Master." No need to go into details. He did not need to be reproached by his master and receive another stern lecture.

"And your padawan?" Master Dooku asked next.

A cold chill spiked the room and it took every ounce of strength for Qui-Gon to not shudder in his master's presence. "He's well."

"That is good," Master Dooku's image flickered. "When do I meet the scamp? Or, are you planning to shelter him for the rest of his life?"

Master Dooku always held a high interest in his padawans. He spoke a great deal with Xanatos, passing on his wisdom and lessons onto the vulnerable boy, right before he turned against the Order. And, now, he wanted his claws on Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon had managed his best to keep his padawan busy or out of sight. Not everyone was suitable for the teachings Dooku passed down. He was harsh and his meddling with dark artifacts made Qui-Gon uneasy. He had no intentions of letting Obi-Wan be dragged into that arena. He preferred his young padawan the way he was. Full of light.

But, Master Dooku did not need to know that. "You will meet him one day, Master."

"I hope so," Master Dooku said, though the lines on his face expressed a certain amount of doubt in Qui-Gon's promise. "I'm not getting any younger, my old padawan. I've heard good things from Master Yoda about Obi-Wan and I would like a chance to meet my grandpadawan before my time here ends."

"You'll meet him," Qui-Gon reassured his lie again. "You may find him not at all fascinating."

He watched his former master idly sweep his long cloak over shoulder in a swift, yet elegant move. "I will be the judge of that, my old padawan," he said, a thin warning to Qui-Gon. "Since I have you here, I would like to talk."

"About what?" Qui-Gon dreaded these talks. They were always about Republic's decay or the Jedi Order's inactions. Lecture after lecture, typically ended in a dramatic flair of frustration.

"Anything," Master Dooku surprised his former padawan. "I haven't talked to you in a long time."

That was… a surprise. Dooku never enjoyed mindless chatter. He preferred important topics. Ones that mattered immediately. To simply call to talk about whatever Qui-Gon felt was encouraging and off-putting.

Before Qui-Gon could even get a word started, he felt a tremble in the Force and knew Jedi Kenobi and Anakin were only a few feet away from the entering. "I'm sorry, my Master," He said, apologetic. "As I said, busy times. I must go."

Master Dooku sighed loudly, seemingly annoyed with the quick conclusion. But he accepted it nonetheless. "Do not be a stranger, Qui-Gon. I hope we can talk soon and, better, in person."

"Of course, Master," Qui-Gon said, a fake smile plastered on his face. "It will be a welcoming sight to see you again." Qui-Gon made another respective nod. "May the Force be with you."

"And you as well," Master Dooku murmured.

Qui-Gon ended the call, the blue holo-image evaporating just in the nick of time. The front door opened and Jedi Kenobi and Anakin stumbled into the foyer, looking disheveled and tired. Jedi Kenobi spotted the comlink on the table.

"Were you talking to someone?" Jedi Kenobi asked.

Qui-Gon darted down to the comlink. "I was."

"Who?"

That dreaded question. "An old friend who passed on condolences."

Qui-Gon rose from his seat. He could use a nap himself. He was tired and weak. And the call with Master Dooku only disturbed his regained peace of mind. He needed some time to rejuvenate.

Jedi Kenobi, however, seemed interested. "Is it someone I know?"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "No one you know."