Hello Darkness, my old friend...
"Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence..."
Obi-Wan twitched in his sleep, his head turning from side to side, hands clenching and unclenching as his body tensed. Although he was unconscious he knew what was about to happen. He was going to start dreaming, but this would not be a normal dream. It would be a vision hinting at something that would happen in his future. A vision he'd had before, which always left him with an overwhelming sense of desolation.
His entire body tensed, and he gritted his teeth, as images flashed inside his head. They swept past, too fast to make sense of. Images sent from the Force, sparking the synapses inside his brain and overloading his Force sensitivity.
The vision was about to play out inside his mind. He knew there'd be a desert or a spacecraft. And there'd be a man. An older, bearded man dressed in a fraying Jedi robe and there'd be a young boy with light-colored hair. Obi-Wan's focus would always be on the boy more than the man. He felt the need to watch over and protect him from some unseen threat. The boy was important. Sometimes the boy appeared as a child, sometimes he'd be in his late teens. He wore either Jedi style clothing or simple clothes bleached by the harsh light of a desert sun. Frustratingly for Obi-Wan, no matter how many times the dream was repeated, both man and boy were always turned away or else had their faces somehow obscured. It made their identity a mystery and yet there was something about them that was familiar...
The first time the dream occurred was after Qui-Gon took him as his apprentice. Back then, Obi-Wan assumed the two dream figures represented himself and Qui-Gon. That the odd dream was his subconscious trying to make sense of their many adventures together, but as years passed his views changed. He began to suspect the man might be an older version of himself, and the boy, who fascinated him so much, was a future padawan.
Yet if that was so, why did the dream create such a feeling of loss and overwhelming sadness? Obi-Wan had always enjoyed working with and teaching the younglings in the Temple; he looked forward to taking a padawan. Why would he dream of a padawan who'd bring pain as well as joy? Was it a warning? If so, what should he do about it? Would the dream pass with time?
Seeing how much the reoccurring dream upset him, Qui-Gon advised his apprentice to seek out Master Yoda's advice on the matter. The small master listened carefully to Obi-Wan, before agreeing the dream might indeed be a glimpse into the future. A Force vision. However, he'd warned the young Jedi not to set much store by it. The future, he said, was forever in motion and forever changing. Yoda advised Obi-Wan that the best course of action was to examine the details in the dream and learn what he could from it.
Obi-Wan rolled onto his side and then rolled back again. He moaned quietly, body twitching. Knowing the sadness this dream would leave behind. He fought to waken, struggling harder now than he'd ever done. Fighting to regain consciousness. To return to a time and place where, despite its many problems and turmoil, he was happy. He'd found love and was loved in return. Even in his sleep, he knew Buffy lay beside him. If he could only reach out to her... if he could just tell her what was happening... maybe, between the both of them, they'd find a way to stop whatever this was...
Sleep and the Force conquered him and he lay still. The vision began to play out inside his head and once more he was the observer, a watcher...
He was deep inside a tall and ancient forest. Huge trees surrounded him, huge branches reaching to the sky. Their lush canopy filtered the sunlight, creating a dappled effect on the dry forest floor. Gone was the barrenness of a desert setting. Gone was the harsh sterility of space. Here he was surrounded by life. Birds sang in the trees or swooped past him, small creatures scuttled in the bushes and butterflies danced amongst the vegetation. He could almost smell the forest's clean, unpolluted air and the scent of pine needles crushed underfoot. Confused by the unexpected change in location, Obi-Wan looked across the small wooded clearing searching for the figures. Yes, they were there. Still the same two. It was just the location that had changed. The robed man stood with his back to Obi-Wan. The hood of his Jedi robe raised, completely hiding his identity. From the way his shoulders were set and the placement of hands on his hips it suggested his mood was one of good-natured exasperation. Beyond the man was the boy. The child was so young! Surely he was too young to be allowed out of the Temple? Yet there he was, clad in Jedi robes that were almost an exact replica of his own. The boy stood directly in the center of a forest path, further away from Obi-Wan than the man. Yet, despite that, Obi-Wan was able to see more details than he normally could. Stout, childish legs, thin shoulders, and blonde hair. The boy tilted his head to one side, as if in consideration. The mannerism was familiar. The child lifted a hand and pointed to where something lay hidden out of sight behind the bushes. Obi-Wan didn't look across too where the youngling pointed. Nothing in the dream interested him more than the boy. He stared at him, trying to focus on the details as Yoda had told him to. Attempting to commit every detail of the dream boy to memory. A shaft of bright sunlight shone through the trees, its rays shining onto the boy's golden hair. The child called out to whoever hid behind the bushes. Obi-Wan's heart leaped. He knew that name! He'd heard it before! Where? Who'd used that name in his hearing? The name hovered on the brink of his memory, teasing him. The name was important... The bushes moved and something began to emerge from the foliage... But then all other thoughts vanished, as the boy slowly began to turn in Obi-Wan's direction. Sandy hair, that was too long and hung over his eyes, the hint of a face in profile, the corner of his mouth as he began to smile...
Lying in bed, Obi-Wan stilled, holding his breath. Waiting. Everything else in this dream was so vivid, would the boy finally look directly at him?
He wanted to see the child's face. He needed to see the boy's face. Then he'd know. Obi-Wan wasn't certain what he'd know, but he knew if the child revealed his face to him he'd know something very important about the future.
But, as ever, the dream remained elusive.
As dreams often do, the scene abruptly changed. The forest and the figures vanished. Now Obi-Wan found himself in a depressingly familiar setting - a desert. Sand blew towards him, biting at the skin of his face, getting into his eyes, and mouth. Automatically, he pulled at the frayed hood on his robe, tugging it over his head and pulling it as far forward as he could. He disliked the desert part of the dream. Sand got everywhere. It went into his hair, his face, his clothes, his boots, and even in his teeth. Not to mention it was always so very hot. Yet here it wasn't. The thought drifted through his mind and then drifted away again. Obi-Wan walked up the sand dune. It was the same trudge he always had in this dream. The relentless, seemingly never-ending, lonely walk through a desert that was not his home but where it appeared he lived. No one was here. No one would care if he lived or died. There was only isolation. It was beyond depressing. At the top of the sand dune, he came to a stop, realizing this wasn't his desert dream after all. This desert was different. It was rockier and there were more scrubby looking bushes about. Obi-Wan looked around him, before looking down at himself in bewilderment. His Jedi Robes had gone. He wore a brown three-piece suit with an itchy white collared shirt beneath it. There was also something balancing on his face. Obi-Wan pulled off the primitive spectacles, staring at them in confusion. This was new. "Hey! What are you doing here?" the female voice asked. A voice that drove away all sadness and created those bubbles of happiness inside him that turned into pink sparkles. Buffy! She stood across from him, wearing a floral sundress, her hand over her eyes shading them from the sun as she peered at him. Obi-Wan found himself grinning widely at her. No doubt it was a goofy grin but this dream might turn out more promising if she was in it. Somewhere in the distance of his mind, he was aware of himself turning in bed and putting his arm around a more solid Buffy. "Have you brought the cheese, Ubi?" dream Buffy asked, tilting her head and looking at him questioningly. "I... I...have I... brought what?" stammering at the unexpected question. Cheese? Had he misheard? He'd enough awareness of himself to wonder if he'd become ill as he slept. A high temperature could cause all sorts of strange nightmares. This dream was now feeling more confusing than the one where all his teeth dropped out when he was talking to the Council or the one where he was eating his dinner naked in the Jedi cafeteria as he'd forgotten to put his clothes on. Why would he have cheese on him? And why did he feel as if he "It might be in your pocket?" Buffy gestured helpfully to the pockets in the jacket of his strange brown tweed suit. He found himself following her advice, reaching inside each pocket and pulling out a slice of cheese in each hand. Obi-Wan stared at the slivers of strong-smelling cheese, recoiled and threw them away. Buffy gave him a hesitant smile. "Well, this is new. You're not my usual Cheeseman." Obi-Wan gestured to his clothing. "This isn't what I normally wear in my dreams." He nodded to the scenery. "Nor is this my normal dream scenery. Where are we?" She chewed her bottom lip, regarding him thoughtfully. "This is the Slayer desert. I come here sometimes when Sineya has a message for me or if I need to be here. Are you really here? "Define, 'really here'?" Obi-Wan replied looking around him. Buffy had told him Sineya was the first Slayer. Was this Buffy's dream? Or his? Did they both have deserts in their future? Or only in their past? Across from him, he heard a childish giggle. He caught a glimpse of golden-hair as the child ducked out of sight behind rocks. A little further on, a fair head ducked down once more. Obi-Wan frowned. The padawan from his dream had followed him. How? Had Buffy seen the boy? He was just in the process of opening his mouth to ask, when another voice interrupted him. "Another here?" hissed a low rasping voice, from behind him. Obi-Wan turned. On a rock formation, partway up the hill, a dark-skinned human girl half crouched, watching him. Clad only in strips of coarse white woven fiber, the girl's face was painted white, her eyes and mouth darkened for emphasis. Although he'd no sense of the Force in dreams the primitive girl gave off a powerful, shadowy vibe that made him feel uneasy. This was her territory, she was a predator, and he was an intruder here. Instinctively, he backed away. She shook her matted, dreadlocked hair, bounced from the rock and landed on all fours. Her movements animalistic and primitive, yet the closer she came to him the stronger her power became. Drawing herself semi-upright, she stalked towards him. Buffy stepped in front of him. Obi-Wan felt relieved, since it appeared he was only armed with cheese slices. "He's a friend," Buffy said firmly. "Slayer has no friends," rasped the girl. "I do, I have, and he's mine." "Mine?" The girl cocked her head to one side, listening to Buffy but her eyes never leaving him. "Mine," replied Buffy once more. "He's not the Cheeseman either. I know he's dressed like him but he's a Jedi called Obi-Wan Kenobi. He's real, he's mine, and he's safe." Sineya prowled around Obi-Wan, her head twisting as she assessed him. Coming to a stop in front of him, Sineya straightened further to stare long and hard into his face. Obi-Wan forced himself to look back. To look back into the eyes of the young female warrior and not flinch away from the darkness he saw inside her. "Mine." Sineya smiled. The smile became a chuckle. The chuckle became laughter. The sound dry and rusty, as if it had been a long time since she'd found anything amusing enough to laugh at. Or perhaps she'd never laughed at anything during her life. Obi-Wan didn't like it. She sounded insane. She sounded dangerous. He wasn't sure how to cope with an insane, highly powerful Slayer who'd claimed him as her own. Obi-Wan shot a fast look at Buffy, who appeared as puzzled by the first Slayer's laughter as he was. Buffy frowned. "What's the what?" Sineya stood tall, her laughter stopping as fast as it started. Stepping forward, the first Slayer pointed to herself. "Slayer," she said, and then pointing to Buffy repeated the word. "Slayer." Her finger turned into Obi-Wan's direction and she said slowly, "Slayers" Her finger circled, pointing once more to Buffy, to herself, and again at Obi-Wan. "Slayers." And she laughed, and laughed, and laughed. That's when a small balding man popped up in front of Obi-Wan. He appeared, literally, from out of nowhere. He wore an identical suit to Obi-Wan's and he looked extremely cross. "You have my cheese," he said to the Jedi. "You stole my cheese slices and took my second best suit. You're a thief and I want retribution." Before Obi-Wan could deny the theft, the small man jumped forward. Hands grasping at the lapels on Obi-Wan's jacket. The Jedi tried to push him away, but the Cheeseman was much stronger than he looked. He shoved Obi-Wan hard. The Jedi grabbed the collar of the man's suit to stop himself from falling, but it was too late. He toppled backward, the Cheeseman falling onto him...
…
Obi-Wan woke with a jolt. Knuckles white, his fingers gripping the bedsheets as if his life depended on it. Relaxing his hold on the cover, he sat up, his eyes searching the bedroom and feeling out through the Force as the silvery light of dawn began to filter through the window covering. Only when he felt completely certain the Cheeseman wasn't hiding nearby did he breathe more easily.
What were those strange dreams about?
Beside him, Buffy lay on her side still sleeping. Was she dreaming now? Had they shared the same dream? Or had her dream been different? Leaning across the bed, he watched her as she slept. Her breathing remained regular, her face tranquil. She didn't appear to be having a nightmare.
Obi-Wan lifted a lock of hair away from her face to stare at the scars on her neck. The scars she bore from her past encounters with vampires. They were close, he could feel it, and he knew instinctively there would be a battle. Ice clutched at his gut. If the Sith vampires were targetting members of the Jedi and turning them this could turn into a war..
His fingers tightened around the lock of hair, then let it fall, as continuing to look down on the Slayer's face. She bore bruises from last night's fight with the Jedi who'd become a vampire. Bruises that were already yellowing as her Slayer metabolism healed her injuries. Accelerated healing or not, he knew she'd risk her life in future fights. It was the way she was. His fingers trailed along her collar bone as she slept. Buffy looked so fragile. Not that he'd ever tell her, it wouldn't stop her from fighting even if he did.
He might lose her.
It was a possibility Obi-Wan shied away from thinking about. The only way he could deal with his fear was by not thinking of it, he'd learned that. It was dangerous to dwell on fears. A wave of dark melancholy rose up inside him and threatening to engulf him. He fought back. Pushing back at the emotion and remembering his dream. Buffy was no longer one girl in all the world fighting against the odds. From now on, he'd always be at her side and together they'd fight against the forces of darkness. Hadn't Sineya pointed at him and called him 'Slayer'. What about the rest of the Jedi-Scoobies? Were they all Slayers as well? She'd called him Slayers as if there was more than one. How would Buffy interpret the dream?
Buffy moved in her sleep, almost waking, and his fingertips moved gently across her shoulder. This was the first time they'd spent an entire night in the same bed together and if she slept peacefully, he'd no wish to wake her with his own insomnia.
~sleep,~ Obi-Wan whispered down their link, his fingers trailing softly across her skin, hoping the suggestion would work.
Buffy squirmed, her hand curling against her face, eyes still closed, she muttered, "These droids are not the ones you seek," then slipped deeper into unconsciousness.
Obi-Wan tensed, brows drawn together, puzzled by her words. Buffy could be very odd, it seemed her dreams were no exception. Did she dream of droids?
An image came to him of her standing in the corridor outside his door on her first night in his dimension. She'd accidentally slain a droid and came to his door asking for help, pretending it had broken down and its leg had dropped off. Then, when he spotted the lightsaber damage, she'd claimed it had been suicidal and jumped onto her lightsaber. He'd been horrified at the time, but now the memory made him smile.
He sat with his head tilted watching her sleep. A small, secretive smile played across her face, making him wonder what she dreamt of. Hopefully, it wasn't the Cheeseman.
Sliding quietly away from her, he walked into the refresher. There he stopped at the sink, running cold water into his hands and rubbed it across his face and neck. Washing away sand from his dream desert, sand from her dream desert, and washing away the memory of the padawan he'd never be allowed to train.
Walking back into the bedroom he stopped, feeling unsettled and at a loss. The nightmare of becoming a Cheeseman had driven away his tiredness, yet hours remained until they needed to rise. Sitting on his side of the bed he looked across to where Buffy lay sleeping. He felt bored. What could he do? Normally, if he woke early he'd use the time to meditate, but this time alone with Buffy was precious. They'd never had the luxury of spending a full night together at the Temple. Slipping back under the sheets and sinking into the bed made warm by their body heat, he slid across to curl around her, his hand stroking her soft, long, shiny hair. Oh yes, there was always that.
If Buffy had been awake and seen the smirk he wore, she'd definitely have become worried.
A/N;
A little unusual but Musey wanted me to write this and I always do what Musey tells me to as she is evil if she doesn't get her own way. There is a meaning behind it all, as it is a Vision. Get guessing!
Thanks to Blackhat who beta-d this. He probably wouldn't recognize it any more as I changed it. I think he despairs of me but is too polite to tell me.
To all my readers, Have a lovely Christmas and best wishes to you and your families.