"I understand you had a pretty bad nightmare last night," Cielan remarked as Obi-Wan entered her office.

Obi-Wan just nodded a bit glumly as he sat. He didn't seem so much depressed, more preoccupied with his own thoughts.

"Have you been able to meditate, and if so, has it helped?" Cielan asked.

"Only if you call sleeping 'meditating,'" he tried to grin. Such was to be expected, with his still weak grasp of the Force, meditation was not expected to come easily or deeply. They had already warned him not to try too hard, too soon. The Force would return to him, but not if he pushed himself right back to that state he was trying to recover from.

He finally processed Cielan's comment. "How did you know about that nightmare?"

"I have my ways – okay, I'll confess. Your eyes are a bit bloodshot and I have my sources – namely nosy night healers who are well aware that a certain ill Jedi master is not having midnight assignations in the healer's ward."

"That would shock a healer, wouldn't it?"

"Nothing shocks healers; believe me. We use Force dampeners in the surgical wing and some of the rooms. Every so often we find a couple of padawans in an intimate 'interlude' thinking with the dampeners they won't be discovered. After a lecture on the dangers of attachments and the sanctity of the Healers Ward, we let them go if the padawans are of legal age. Without a celibacy requirement there's little we can do."

"Oh." A low chuckle escaped Obi-Wan; a grin as of sudden understanding lightened his face. "Oh. So, that's what he meant."

"Your padawan?"

"Anakin?" It was Obi-Wan's turn to look confused. "No, er, I hope not. I just remembered something that had little meaning at the time. It was years ago as I was being released from the Ward. Tahl and Master were taking me home. Master looked at Tahl and murmured something about fond memories of exploring the 'Living Force.' Tahl shushed him right up."

"That sounds like Qui-Gon Jinn," Cielan agreed. "Jedi with high affinity to the Living Force are more apt to engage in such behavior."

"There was always this strong link between them. I knew they loved each other but it was on a subconscious level – this really great friendship. Tahl made Master happy as no one else could. Shortly before she died something ignited that friendship into something else." A look of – regret? pain? – flitted across his face as he spoke; Cielan wondered what lay behind that. He looked at her and murmured by way of explanation, "Just a memory…of the dangers of attachment."

"Well, we're not here to talk about Jedi's love lives, especially since you behaved quite properly last night. We're here to talk about how you're doing. So, have you been keeping a log of your nightmares as I asked?"

A mute headshake was her answer. "I don't remember them when I wake up. Maybe – does that mean I'm getting past them?"

Cielan hated to dampen the bright look of hope in his eyes. "It's too early to tell. Do you remember anything – perhaps how you felt when you woke up?"

"Drained, I think. Horror, despair… a fierce need to protect – my padawan? Pretty much what one might expect, I suppose. It was like my mind overloaded, then the next I knew, Siri was there, brushing a tear or two away. I guess…I guess I was crying." He shrugged, unable to shed any more light.

"Did Knight Tachi say what brought her to your side when even your padawan was unaware of any distress on your part?"

"We've been friends a long time," the Jedi said softly. "She's been worried about me and I suppose she's kept tabs on me through the Force – I'm not a total void, am I?"

"Your presence is rather faint and easy to overlook if one is not looking for it. This is not like Force-suppression – that interferes with your ability to call on the Force, but it also blocks the Force from reaching you. The Force still touches you; you just don't seem able to reach back. The reasons could be neurological, physical, or psychological, or a combination. We don't know how to explain you, yet, but we're working on it."

"You might as well give up," Obi-Wan muttered. Cielan wasn't often surprised, but she almost was until she saw the hint of amusement on the Jedi's face. "My padawan says he's given up trying to explain me."

Clasping his fingers, he leaned forward and hesitated a moment. With mixed frustration and satisfaction, Obi-Wan knew the nightmares that plagued him were hardly helping his state of mind. He didn't remember them, so he wasn't facing them as the healers wanted, which was just fine with him. He didn't want to remember; he wanted them gone.

"I told Siri I wanted the nightmares to stop and she told me as long as I didn't face them I would continue to have them. She said something about Qui-Gon and – I – she didn't deserve to be snapped at."

"She's right about the nightmares. You're not facing them but avoiding them, hence the nightmares arising from suppressed memories," was Cielan's response to that comment.

"We've discussed this. You were on medicine to control your pain and anxiety since you couldn't rely on the Force. Now you're off the drugs and you're going to have to face the nightmares until you disarm them yourself."

Obi-Wan remembered. He'd argued back that having nightmares was hardly facing his memories, for facing required conscious thought.

"Until you are capable of facing and releasing everything to the Force, your mind is trying to protect itself and heal by submerging the emotions and memories which are seeking an alternate means of escape; you are trying too hard to be unaffected by what you've experienced."

"I'm trying to be myself; I'm trying to be the Jedi I'm supposed to be," he responded, wondering why she just didn't get it.

"The 'who' you are is an Obi-Wan Kenobi trying to recover, not one who has already recovered or never suffered. Don't try so hard to deny who you are now in an attempt to be someone you once were and might be again."

"I'm a Jedi," he responded stubbornly. "Jedi don't dwell on the past, they move past it. That's all I'm trying to do, move on. "

"Nightmares are an unavoidable part of the recovery process," Ceilan told him. "You will get past them in time, but we still want you to keep a diary of them or your feelings when you wake, and report to us daily. If they interfere with your daily activities, you are to let us know. Your padawan will be under strict orders just to make sure that doesn't happen, and to call us if you ever have an extreme reaction to one, once we release you to your quarters."

"He's my padawan, not my nursemaid!" And a man already too burdened to take on another, he added silently.

"He is your padawan, and he agreed without hesitation, Master Kenobi. Do stop worrying about others so much and let others worry about you for a change, okay? Your padawan and friends only want to help."

His eyes fell; he didn't know quite how to respond, but he'd caught the shift in her speech, it was "Master Kenobi" now.

"I don't want them to worry," he finally confessed. "Not any more than they already have." He stood up and ran his hands through his hair and then sat down just as abruptly. Bant and Siri had both told him a bit of how they'd felt, feeling he was alive, knowing there was nothing they could do but hurt for long weeks into months…they'd already been through so much pain on his behalf.

It wasn't so much what they had actually told him – he knew there was much they hadn't said – but the little gestures that went with the words.

It was Siri sitting at his side, brushing tears away and offering to worry with him. It was Anakin, unwilling to share his experiences and seek the guidance he needed, for worry for his master.

It was one reason why he wanted – needed – to get past everything, to be the man that didn't need to be worried over, and so that he could be the man and the Jedi his padawan, friends, and the Order needed him to be.

Some of his thoughts must have been visible on his face, for Cielan's look softened.

"They'll worry one way or the other until you've recovered from this, but if you allow them to help, they'll actually worry a lot less about you. Think of the times you've worried about someone else, and how you felt when they confided in you – or didn't."

He couldn't deny the truth of her words. He let the memories come to him…

The knot in his stomach when Qui-Gon went silent and numb with grief, unable to share his pain at Tahl's death, and his own pain at being unable to comfort his mentor – and the relief when his master finally surfaced enough to share at least some of it with his padawan. It had helped them both heal from what threatened to become a rift in their relationship.

Siri's brittle gaiety and false exuberance upon her return to the Temple, the brushing aside of her undercover life as a member of a pirate gang, the padawan who seemingly left in disgrace and returned a seasoned knight, yet no longer knew her place in Temple life.

Siri was his friend, so Obi-Wan had finally cornered her and gotten past her guard by bluntly telling her he didn't care what she had had to do, she would always be Siri to him, so if there was something she needed to get off her chest that wasn't classified, he would listen silently and without judgment.

That unconditional acceptance had loosened a flood of unresolved shame and anger as he had sat patiently at her side as the words poured out of her, and when embarrassment crept in at her lack of restraint, he had squeezed her hands and drolly 'confessed' he'd missed everything by falling into a deep meditation and could she start over. She had smacked him on the arm for not listening – but they both knew it was an act to break the tension, confirmed when Siri had suddenly gripped his hand and squeezed hard – and not let go for long, peaceful minutes.

And Anakin…it had taken a few months before his young padawan felt comfortable enough around him to confess to certain things that worried or confused him as he tried to adjust to life as a Jedi padawan. He had tried his best to be patient and understanding, even if he didn't understand Anakin's concerns, but in later years…Anakin no longer spoke to him when he was troubled.

That lack of – honesty, or was it trust, or mere adolescent withdrawing from an older mentor – troubled Obi-Wan.

It was true – worry left unresolved when a word, a gesture…oh, Anakin, how I wish you would let your master– someone, anyone – help guide you now….

"You're right," honesty compelled him to admit when he was wrong. Yet he feared for Anakin should the entire story come out. Bant, Siri, Garen – they would hurt, but on his behalf – Anakin, as well, yet he would also end up scarred and hurt. His padawan would not release the pain, and it was not his to bear.

"Yet if I knew the knowledge would only hurt someone – would that not be selfish to put that burden on one?"

"You can still set boundaries, Obi-Wan, on how much you share and when," Cielan assured him. "You haven't faced much yourself yet – so let your padawan and friends help when you need help. You can't do this alone, but you don't have to reveal everything either. The only one who'll make you face yourself is you – when you're ready to do so. Our job is to help get you to that point as soon as possible."

He nodded slowly. She was right, in order to heal he had to start the process of healing, and that meant no longer hiding from himself. What he found might determine whether he continued to keep what he found to himself while he found a way to take whatever action he deemed appropriate at that time.

He could start with the smaller things first, the injuries to his physical body – the injuries before – before – the mask. That damned mask! At the thought of it, his entire body tensed and he reached for the Force to wash the guilt and the horror away, that stain that seemed etched on his very soul.

He was aware of someone reaching towards him, gently touching his hand and he shied back, shaking his head. The words finally penetrated and he blinked; his hands reached to his head and slid over his face, his head until he was convinced no mask covered him.

He slumped in his chair and took a deep breath, shuddering every so slightly.

"Want to tell me about it?" the healer questioned. "Have you noticed that you reach out to others, but shy away when others reach to you?"

"No," he admitted, rubbing his chin. He certainly hadn't been shying away from Siri; he seemed to crave her touches, be they a hand on his or her lips against hers. "No," he repeated, sitting up straight.

"A part of you wants reassurance, yet you expect pain if someone reaches out to you. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," he said, dropping his head. Why hadn't he noticed for himself? Was he that focused on just himself?

"Let's work on that, then," she said gently. "If I say I'm going to reach out and touch you, does that bother you?"

"No."

She studied him, a tendril of Force confirming his words. "So the reaction is pure instinct. So if I repeat that I am going to touch you and now I do actually reach out - ?" Slowly a hand moved forward and rested on his; he blinked but didn't shy away.

"Good. Let's repeat this a while until you feel comfortable enough to accept it without thought, shall we? We call it reprogramming your reflexes and we'll work on that today. The mind and the body are far more entwined than some think, and once you get comfortable with the physical touches you might become more accepting of the emotional support of your friends."

They worked on that for a while until Obi-Wan no longer reacted to the unexpected movements towards him. His anxiety level arose a notch when a soft knock on the door preceded another healer's step inside the room. The Jedi's head swung around and he half stood as if uncertain whether to back away or crouch into a defensive stance.

The two healers exchanged a brief word then Cielan resumed her seat. She studied the by-now-seated Jedi, the tight posture indicative of a man ashamed of his reactions.

"The unexpected behind you startles you," she said matter-of-factly. "Most sentients minus a strong Force presence react similarly, and with your training to be alert at all times, your reaction was perfectly normal."

"It's not normal for me," Obi-Wan half-snapped. "What if I had thought he was a threat, and I attacked? What if …?" What if I've become the very thing I fear most?
"But you didn't attack him, did you? You reacted, but not too excess. You faced a potential threat – and assessed it before acting. I hardly think you are a danger to yourself or others."

"Can you guarantee I won't – won't hurt anyone?" Eyes begged for an answer that couldn't be given. Finally, Obi-Wan sighed. "I'm tired – may we continue this another time."

Buried deep behind the Jedi's eyes – was what appeared to be fear.

"Fear?" So many possibilities on what that fear was, Cielan thought, from the obvious to that not so apparent. She had almost missed that quick flash.


"Obi-Wan, is Bant in with you?" Neille stuck his head in and grinned at the obvious. "Bant, you're officially off shift – I'm here. How are you feeling today, Obi-Wan? You and the ladies – Bant sits with you one night and has the dubious honor of cleaning you up and then last night you have Knight Tachi holding your hand after a nightmare."

His cheerful face fell when Bant made a little motion to him. Obi-Wan was lying listlessly in bed, an arm across his face, weariness in every line of his body. She patted him on the hand and stood. Passing by Neille, she mouthed, "He slept some; he hasn't been awake long. He saw Cielan earlier; see if you can distract him."

His attention fully on Obi-Wan, Neille nodded as he crossed over to the bedside and studied the latest readings. "Well, my friend, physically you're to the point where I don't think we need to keep you here much longer. Bones, muscles – you have the body of a knight run over by circumstances rather than a near-human bludgeon."

Obi-Wan merely grunted at the joke, though his mouth twitched in mild amusement. Thus encouraged at this spark of life, Neille sat down in the chair that Bant had just vacated.

"Why don't you go visit little Ian before he's released to the creche?" Neille suggested. The flash of alarm in Obi-Wan's eyes startled him, as did the gruff, "No."

"Why ever not? All those babies – think of it, a captive audience. Go sing to them."

"I'm not a crèche-master, for Force's sake. Ian, is," he hesitated, not sure himself why, "better off." He looked away, and mumbled, "I don't dare."

"What was that last, Obi-Wan?"

"I don't want him to get attached to someone who won't be there for him." Obi-Wan said, crossing his arms in his "this is my final word on the subject" posture.


"…while you know I can't discuss the details, I can tell you that one of the biggest impediments to his recovery is his stubbornness."

Patient confidentiality was paramount, but Cielan knew the grand master of the Order sat before her not seeking to breach that confidentiality, but seeking direction how to help as both a Council member and a friend of the Jedi in question. Within her constraints, she would give the ancient master as much information as she could.

Yoda's eyes crinkled knowingly. "Stubborn indeed he is, but selflessness you mean, I think. Will deny himself help or comfort to avoid burdening others he will."

"I would have to agree, except I've never met anyone that selfless unless they were playing the martyr. He, however, is sincere in this desire to handle things on his own, to avoid 'burdening others' and it's getting in the way of his recovery. He's his own biggest obstacle."

"Deceit in him there is none – like all living beings, selfish desires he has, but so afraid always wrong they are that squashes them he does before they take root. Fears they will lead him where he does not wish to go - away from the Jedi path, from doing the Will of the Force."

"Then the Force needs to sit him down and have a long conversation," Cielan muttered. To her surprise, Yoda snorted in amusement and agreement.

"A feeling I have that the Force will find a way to reach him, through his friends or his padawan. Even you, it may be. Time it will take, progress forward, a step backwards…help him you will, I will, his friends will."

"Time however, we do not have an excess of." Yoda sighed and his ears drooped. "Concerned the Council is – concerns I do not share but concerns I must heed."

"Concerns?" Cielan leaned forward, openly curious.

"When time to speak, I will. Answers not yet needed for the questions – for not yet are they asked openly."

With that cryptic answer, Yoda stood and hobbled from Cielan, leaving a concerned and uneasy healer staring after him.