Thank you all for your patience! I finally got my Obi-Inspiration back and was able to finish this fanfic! There will be one more chapter after this with some Ani/Obi brotherly feels! So stayed tuned! But for now, enjoy Qui-Gon's POV.
They followed quietly at first, allowing Qui-Gon time to collect his thoughts and solidify them before they reached the main hangar bay. The Force around his two Padawan's felt off, unbalanced. But I suppose that's to be expected.
Still, the feeling unsettled him. It's not supposed to be this way. They never should have gone. I should have been there too…
"Obi-Wan?" It was the touch of concern in Anakin's tone that had Qui-Gon spinning around to face the younger Jedi. "Come on, what's—"
His Padawan had his arms curled protectively around his chest, the near empty mug dangling haphazardly from his fingers. "You never said anything about leaving the Temple."
Anakin's face contorted. "What's so bad about leaving the Temple?"
"We're on leave for who-knows-how-long and I would prefer to spend that time here, thank you," Obi-Wan replied stiffly.
"If you don't leave, you won't get to see what Master Qui-Gon has to show us," Anakin argued.
"I'm all right with that."
"Oh, come on, Obi-Wan!" The boy's exasperation was palpable.
"It's only…" And Qui-Gon noticed the way his apprentice was now looking at him, like he used to when he was a boy and pleaded silently for his Master to change his mind about whatever they were about to do. "It's very crowded out there…"
"You've never minded the crowds before," Anakin puzzled.
When Qui-Gon stepped toward Obi-Wan, his Padawan took a step back.
"Obi-Wan," he began, being careful to avoid any sudden movements—an unnecessary precaution, but one he felt the need to take nonetheless. "You must trust me. There will not be any crowds where we're going. I promise."
"It's Coruscant," Obi-Wan replied, voice tight, "how can you be so sure?"
"Trust me." And Obi-Wan knew to trust well this tone of voice, Qui-Gon had made certain of it with the passing of the years.
A lifetime seemed to pass as the wheels in Obi-Wan's head ground and spun, and Qui-Gon waited on pins and needles.
Over time, Qui-Gon had become proficient in deciphering the many faces of Obi-Wan Kenobi. And his Padawan's current expression subtly revealed his hesitation and reluctant desire to please.
Finally, Obi-Wan nodded. "All right." He took a small step forward. "I trust you."
Qui-Gon felt a smile tug his lips. "And that's all I ask of you."
Another nod, yet Obi-Wan didn't appear to be making any effort to join them.
"Obi-Wan?" Anakin beckoned, and Qui-Gon thought he saw the boy's hand inching forward as if to forcibly pull his Master into the nearest speeder.
"Don't get your robes in a tangle, I'm coming," he huffed, though Qui-Gon noticed the way the cup trembled within his hand.
They wasted no time in finding a speeder—Qui-Gon having done all the deciding, knowing the boy would have wasted precious minutes in trying to choose a speeder he liked. In the end, it wasn't even Ankin who did the driving either. Qui-Gon took the controls, giving them all a nice, smooth ride through Galactic City.
Neither Obi-Wan nor Anakin talked very much at all, except for the occasional comment from Anakin about a particularly interesting building, followed by a light quip from Obi-Wan, whom Qui-Gon suspected was trying to distract himself from the fact that he didn't yet know where they were going.
The surprise will be worth it when we arrive, young one.
When they pulled to a stop on the street corner in front of Dex's Diner, Obi-Wan let out a good-natured sigh.
"I should have known. But you promised there wouldn't be any large crowds. Or have you forgotten how busy the diner is around this time?"
"I haven't forgotten," Qui-Gon replied as he slid out of the speeder with ease. "And my promise hasn't been broken yet. You still have to trust me, Obi-Wan."
His former Padawan simply nodded before following Anakin out of the vehicle.
Upon entering the small building, Qui-Gon was pleased to find everything was arranged exactly how he'd envisioned it. The place was empty save for the waitress droids, Dexter Jetster himself, and a little Togruta Padawan who occupied their favorite corner booth.
"Masters!" She exclaimed from behind stack upon stack of freshly prepared cuisine. "You came!"
"What?" Qui-Gon said as he met her glowing gaze. "You didn't think we would make it?"
"No," Ahsoka replied, flushing only slightly, "I just didn't think they would be willing to follow you so blindly."
He didn't miss the face Anakin made at his student, nor the one she shot back in return. Honestly, sometimes those two were far too immature for their own good.
Qui-Gon ushered the two Jedi into the booth before they could protest, then slid onto the worn cushion beside Ahsoka.
"Well," Obi-Wan began, lightly fingering one of the glasses of jawa juice Ahsoka had ordered for all of them prior to their arrival, "I suppose you're very pleased with yourself right now."
Qui-Gon fought to keep his face straight, though he could feel the urge to grin rising with each passing second. "And why should I be feeling pleased, Padawan?"
As Anakin started sucking down his own drink—as well as a few of the appetizers presented—Qui-Gon noticed the way he subtly kept his gaze trained on Obi-Wan, who continued:
"Well, you got us here, didn't you? And as far as I can tell, there aren't any crowds pressing in on all sides."
"Did you think there would be?"
Obi-Wan glanced down at his drink. "I wasn't sure what to think…"
And for a long moment, no one spoke. Each looked worn in their own way. Qui-Gon was no imbecile, and he certainly wasn't a dreamer either. He knew it would take more than a trip to Dex's to fix the three shattered hearts sitting before him.
Much more.
But we have time.
I have time to fix this…
All it would take was a start… Just a start.
"Well," Anakin said, breaking the silence at last, "are we gonna order some food?"
"What do you call all this?" Ahsoka asked, gesturing toward the plates of appetizers.
"I mean real food. The main course. Come on, guys, I'm starving."
"Anakin, you're not starving. Children on the—"
"Lower levels are starving. Yeah, yeah." The boy waved a dismissive hand. "Well, I'm very hungry, then. There, happy?"
"Ecstatic."
"Good." And Obi-Wan passed Anakin a menu, which he poured over for exactly five seconds before handing it back to his Master.
Obi-Wan, in turn, passed off to Ahsoka without so much as a glance.
"Geez," the young Togruta piped up as she opened the menu, "you'd think you guys have been here a million times or something."
Anakin let out a snort before dividing his attention once again between Obi-Wan and his jawa juice.
"What can I say?" Anakin remarked between gulps. "I'm a creature of habit."
"Same," Obi-Wan mumbled, drawing Ahsoka's lips into a small smile.
And Qui-Gon smiled too. Because this was the casual banter he'd been hoping for. Things wouldn't be the same as they once were—not for awhile—but a tiny semblance of normalcy wouldn't hurt anything. It would help them forget, at least for a short time, about the horrors of Zygerria.
Zygerria… Qui-Gon thought, forcing his expression to remain steady. He was growing to hate that word more each time it crossed his mind. They never should've gone on that mission. They never should've been near there in the first place…
By the time he was able to pull himself out of such heavy thoughts, Dex had already taken everyone's order but his own.
And Qui-Gon was grateful that his old friend wasn't making a fuss. He knew how much the Besalisk cared for them all and how difficult it was for him to tone down his boisterous personality.
When he'd called to reserve the entire diner, Qui-Gon had made it clear that they were expecting peace and quiet—that it would be best if Dex didn't pry into the sullen moods of the three Jedi, despite how badly he might feel the need to help.
Like always, he reflected fondly as he gave his order.
"So…" Qui-Gon glanced up from his own drink to find his Padawan's eyes locked on him. "Why Dex's?"
Qui-Gon offered a small shrug. "Why not Dex's?"
Obi-Wan flashed an unamused grin. "You know what I meant."
"I know," Qui-Gon said, eyes softening. "I know. For now, Obi-Wan, don't question—just enjoy."
As if on cue, Ahsoka pulled Anakin's worn sabacc deck from her belt pouch. "Ready to lose, Skyguy?"
"Against you?" Anakin scoffed, snatching up the deck and shuffling the cards with expert fingers. "Not likely. Now, losing against Qui-Gon? Well, I'm not looking forward to that."
"I don't have to play," Qui-Gon chuckled, keeping his eyes on Obi-Wan, who didn't look as though he wished to play at all.
"Are you kidding?" Anakin began dealing, flicking a card in front of Qui-Gon first. "It's all or nothing."
"I was afraid you were going to say that," Obi-Wan muttered, earning an eye roll from Anakin.
"How about this, Master, you can start us off."
"I was afraid you'd say that, too." Nevertheless, Obi-Wan gathered up his cards and studied them with all the intensity that Anakin had once used so long ago to study his history books.
The gameplay continued with a side of light banter until Dex personally brought them their food.
After that, silence consumed the table once more. Everyone was exhausted, but more than that, they were famished. While they were playing cards, it'd been easy to forget that not more than a few hours ago, Qui-Gon had applied bacta to Obi-Wan's scars… Soothed Anakin's worries and let him vent his cares away… Set Ahsoka's damaged heart on the road to healing.
Stars… Was it only this morning that they arrived with Plo in the hangar?
But now… Now, as he observed the way they all silently ravaged their plates, Qui-Gon found himself forgetting all about the poor children on the Lower Levels.
Because Anakin was not exaggerating—my children truly are starving.
How many days had Mace mentioned went by since the Council lost contact with Obi-Wan and Anakin on Zygerria? How many weeks, you mean…
Not days, weeks.
It wasn't long before Anakin had finished his own food and began picking at Obi-Wan's plate, which was still more full than Qui-Gon would've liked. Ahsoka was still chowing down on her sliders when Dex brought them all refills.
"Oh, I couldn't possibly—" Obi-Wan started, but Qui-Gon held up a silencing hand.
"You can, and you will. I've seen you eat three times that amount."
"Sure, when I was going through a growth spurt—as a teenager," Obi-Wan protested with a scoff.
Anakin didn't even try to hide his snicker.
"Well," Qui-Gon continued with a certain kind of smile that held no room for argument, "you had best consider going through another one because none of you are leaving this table until you've eaten your fill."
A chorus of three yes, Masters echoed through Qui-Gon's ears, warming his heart.
Yes. Yes, perhaps there will be healing after all.
It simply takes one step.
One step to get the journey started.
And as he studied each of his self-proclaimed Padawans, he realized that step had just been taken.
Now, they could all truly begin the road to recovery.