Obi-Wan strolled down the halls of the Jedi Temple, moving slowly.

Taking his time.

Taking my time, he mentally scoffed. You're simply hurting too much to move faster than a stroll.

He couldn't understand it. He'd been released from the Halls of Healing three days ago, after staying nearly a week in its all-too-familiar chambers.

I should be good as new by now. Why all these lingering aches and pains…?

As he made his way to nowhere, the words of the Jedi Council burned throughout his brain: "I think it would be best for you to take an extended furlough. Just until you're fully recovered."

What in space does fully recovered even mean?

"This is war!" He'd so desperately wanted to scream in their concerned faces. "No one ever 'fully recovers.'"

But he had bit his tongue and nodded, knowing he hadn't much of a say in the matter. If Master Vokara Che caught word that he'd argued for his return to the battlefield, she would lock him back up in the healers' ward faster than he could say "I was only kidding."

After all, she had only released him on the promise that he'd get the rest he needed in order to recover, which meant no strenuous activity.

Which meant High General Kenobi would have to hang his hat for the time being.

The second part of the negotiations for his release including the enlistment of Ahsoka and Anakin as his "bodyguards."

More like parole officers.

But Master Che has been caring for his injuries in the Halls of Healing since he was a Padawan. She knew him well, knew his tendencies to view a serious gash as only a minor scrape. And she wouldn't let him out of her professional care unless she could be certain he'd be cared for elsewhere.

That meant having either Anakin or Ahsoka constantly on his tail, making sure he didn't over exert himself.

He didn't even have to glance back to know the young commander was there, trailing behind at a respectful distance. Though the situation annoyed him—he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, thank you very much—he appreciated the lengths the Master/Padawan team were going to in order to help him recover.

And the sooner you recover, he reminded himself, the sooner you can return to battle.

And the sooner you can help end this blasted war.

With a sigh and a twinge of guilt, Obi-Wan called Ahsoka to him. No use leaving her lonely for companionship behind him.

Besides, he thought grimly, you had enough time to yourself, enough silent loneliness on Jakku to last you a lifetime.

"Yes, Master Obi-Wan?" She answered, bounding up along the side.

"I was just thinking," he began, "I can't remember the last time I was able to meditate in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. I used to make time for it everyday, even while training Anakin, which, as you might've guessed, was no easy task. Now, with this war… well, it's been a long time, let's leave it at that." He smiled down at her. "Would you care to join me?"

Her own smile warmed his soul. "Of course, Master! Hey, should we invite Skyguy?"

He raised an amused brow. "Anakin? Meditation? I'm sorry, but have you seen him meditate? I've seen younglings sit quieter, and for much longer periods of time."

She laughed, a welcome, sunny sound. "You have a point there, Master."

Then, her smiling eyes dimmed a little. The change was so slight, Obi-Wan thought for a moment he had imagined it.

Only, it was that same look Anakin always gave him—though he wondered if, most of the time, he even knew he was doing it—and Master Windu, and Captain Rex.

The look he knew Cody would give him when he finally brought himself to contact his commander.

The commander he'd so unceremoniously abandoned.

It wasn't as though you wanted what happened.

Still… part of him still felt like his capture had been his fault. He'd been hot, exhausted, and emotionally weary that day he'd fallen prey to Gil Kilian.

I should've sensed his darkness, his madness. I should've—

"Master? Are… you okay?"

He blinked, suddenly unsure of how to answer—he didn't think his usual "I'll live" would do anything to reassure her.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, flashing a bit of a forced smile, "my mind was elsewhere, did you say something?"

"No, you just… looked concerned for a moment." A nervous laugh escaped her lips. "I was just, you know, making sure you were okay."

She's walking on eggshells. They're all walking on kriffing eggshells the moment I wear anything other than a smile on my face.

"I was merely wondering where Anakin might have run off to."

She shrugged, though he was relieved to notice she was a little more at ease. "I haven't seen him since yesterday."

Senator Amidala. Of course, he's with her. They probably haven't seen each other in months.

Well, at least he has a pair of arms to fall into at the end of the day…

At the end of his day, Obi-Wan fully expected to return to his quarters—alone—where he would make himself a cup of tea before settling down to read, if he could even concentrate—alone—and then he would go to bed—alone.

Why did it all seem easier when I was training Anakin?

Because then, at least you had someone to return to each day. And someone you loved to wake up to.

Clearing his throat, he released his self-pitying thoughts into the Force. "Now, on to the Room of a Thousand Fountains, then?"

Ahsoka grinned. "Lead the way, Master."

"You're sure you don't need anything, Master?"

"Anakin, I'm not dying, and I'm not an invalid either."

In mock defense, his Padawan raised his hands. "I'm only trying to help."

"Well, don't worry, you're certainly succeeding."

Oh please, not this again, Obi-Wan thought when he caught sight of Anakin's frown. I don't have the energy to reassure anyone else today.

"I'll be all right, really." He settled onto the small sofa in the main room of his quarters—quarters he once shared with Anakin when they were Master and Apprentice. "I'm not going to run a marathon while you're gone, I'm simply going to read before heading to bed."

Anakin didn't look convinced, but Obi-Wan found that he didn't particularly care. What he'd told his former Padawan was the truth.

Let him think what he wants. If he wants to imagine me straining against my wounds doing push-ups the second he leaves, that's fine with me. As long as it keeps his mind entertained.

"Well, if you need anything," Anakin continued, "I'm only a comm call away."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Thank you, Anakin. Truly, I appreciate it."

As he went to leave, Obi-Wan turned on his reader.

Then, Anakin hesitated at the door.

It was all Obi-Wan could do to swallow his sigh. "Yes, Anakin?"

"And, uh… if you ever… you know, want to ever just talk… about what happened or anything… I'm still only a call away."

"Thank you, I'll keep that in mind."

This seemed to pacify Anakin for the time being and a moment later, Obi-Wan found himself alone once again.

Wishing briefly that he'd invited his brother to stay. To stay and face the demons with him—the demons that plagued his dreams the second his head hit the pillow.

But he supposed he just wasn't brave enough.

He wasn't brave enough to open his soul up to Anakin, to be vulnerable, emotional. A thousand battle droids didn't heighten his anxiety; coming face-to-face with Count Dooku, he didn't break a sweat…

Telling Anakin, his best friend—his brother—that he'd very nearly killed a man solely because he wanted to?

It was unthinkable.

Anakin would brand him a hypocrite and their relationship would never be the same again.

Will anything ever be the same again?

What would he say if he knew? What would any of them say?

That the Great Obi-Wan Kenobi, honorable Jedi Master and High General of the Clone Wars, had reduced himself in a few short days to the status of an animal hungry for vengeance.

No.

No, he couldn't tell Anakin that.

Not Anakin, not Ahsoka, not anyone.

Because sometimes, he couldn't even remind himself of what he had become without getting completely sick.

As he tried to focus on his reading, one final, terrifying thought assaulted his mind:

What would Master Qui-Gon say if he knew what you've done?

What would Master Qui-Gon say…?