To his surprise, Qui-Gon and Anakin were not there when he next awoke. He laid on the soft sleeping couch, memories slowly trickling back to him. He supposed that having a moment alone was a good thing - it gave him time to sort out his thoughts. As much as Obi-Wan missed the presence of his Master and Padawan, he knew that he would want to be as far away from them as possible later on. They were sure to want some solid answers, and no amount of rose-tinted lenses could cloud his memory of how darn persistent each of them were individually. And he had seen them work together - he was pretty sure that even he would not be able to withstand their combined might, despite dealing with the two of them for most of his life.
Slowly, he mulled over the reasons why the Force had sent him here. From what he had gathered in the past ten years as a Force ghost, he had been sent back as double-insurance that Anakin would not fall prey to the Dark Side. Even with Qui-Gon as his guide and Master, the Force had to be sure of it. That much Obi-Wan knew.
The problem is - how much did they know? There hadn't been a single second in this current timeline where he hadn't been around either one of them; as far as he knew, neither of them had had run-ins with the Dark Side yet. He had been careful to stick with Anakin for most of the time, and the young man hadn't yet sought Palpatine's counsel. Perhaps he was satisfied enough with Qui-Gon's wisdom that he hadn't felt the need to listen to the Sith Lord's insidious whisperings.
Hopefully in-depth discussion about Obi-Wan's past could be avoided. Maybe the Darkness would not come to pass at all.
But, Obi-Wan was far too seasoned of a general to fall for such naive optimism. He had survived by hoping for the best but preparing for the worst. And he rarely ever got the best. He knew for sure that he could not candidly tell Anakin that he could potentially Fall. With a groan, he scrubbed his hand through his beard, only to sigh as he found his face smooth.
That was another thing. He had somehow ended up in his twenty-five year old body. While it made sense, as that was when the Obi-Wan of this dimension had passed, he looked like a baby. He had seen himself in the mirror when he had used the fresher to tidy up, and he had forgotten how ridiculous the Padawan haircut looked. He could no longer hide behind his beard, and while he was beyond such crutches, he could not deny that he missed its comfort.
The door opened, and two familiar Force signatures entered the room, filling him with comfort. With a mental groan, he realized that he had gotten so sidetracked with his vanity that he had forgotten to rehearse what he was going to tell Qui-Gon.
The Master in question gave him a warm look as he settled down on one of the comfortable couches one of the Padawan Healers had brought in. Master Vokara had been tempted to let Qui-Gon continue wasting his days away on the uncomfortable visitor chairs, but she had relented when she saw that Anakin often accompanied him. Obi-Wan had been very amused by the soft spot the boy seemed to hold in her heart.
"How are you feeling, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked. From his side, Anakin watched him with piercing, intelligent eyes.
Obi-Wan felt a content smile cross his face at the sight of the two. Their poses mirrored each other's, ankles crossed over the opposite knee, hands folded on their laps. In a rare moment of indulgence, Obi-Wan carefully tucked the memory away to revisit during trying times.
"I am well," he answered honestly. He was still constantly exhausted, and the bone-deep ache of various old injuries still hounded him, but he was surrounded by the buzzing energy of the Temple and he had found his loved ones again. He was in paradise.
Qui-Gon mirrored his smile, eyes kind. "Are you ready to talk?"
Obi-Wan nodded slowly, gathering his thoughts. He had always worked better with improvisation anyways.
"From what I can tell, the Force has sent me back to the past. But, not my own past - to this alternate one, where you survived the battle on Naboo and lived to train Anakin. In my own time, I was the one who raised him. But I … I lost him." Obi-Wan bowed his head, shame spreading through his chest. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I don't know why the Force sent me back. But, now that I am here, I want to fix my mistakes. I can't lose him again."
Even now, he couldn't meet Anakin's eyes. He was haunted by the sickly yellow that he had seen in his past life. Obi-Wan's gaze traveled between his two observers, resting on the blank wall behind them. He didn't want to see the condemnation in their eyes.
To his surprise, Qui-Gon's voice was gentle when he prodded, "Is there more you wish to divulge?"
Obi-Wan pursed his lips and shook his head. "The future is fluid," he answered. "What has come to pass in my future may not in yours. Even now, the past has irrevocably been changed. The future is still in motion, but it may be best that I keep mine to myself, so I don't end up influencing yours."
"But haven't you already?" Anakin asked. Both other pairs of eyes in the room turned to him. "It makes sense now - that you were my Master in your past life. Is that why your presence feels so familiar? Even here, you've been raising me this whole time, alongside Master Qui-Gon."
Qui-Gon turned startled eyes back on Obi-Wan, and he couldn't help the blush that spread across his cheeks. He really missed the cover of his beard right now.
"That is correct," he answered simply.
"So, every time I've received answers through the Force, they were really from you?" Qui-Gon asked.
Obi-Wan shrugged noncommittally. It had really been a combination of the two of them.
"And all those times we've escaped great injury?"
Another nod.
Something else seemed to occur to the Master. Obi-Wan gave a startled yelp as the man crossed the room in a single stride and yanked his sleep tunic up, smothering him. He could feel his Master's calloused hands as they patted his bare flank. Obi-Wan spluttered as he finally got the tunic down, glaring petulantly at his mentor. "What was that for?" It had been a good while since he had felt so undignified.
Qui-Gon looked down upon him with an unreadable look. "All those blows you took for us… Please tell me you deflected them with the Force, and not how I fear you might have."
Obi-Wan glanced away, unable to lie to his Master, but also unwilling to confirm the man's suspicions. He could feel the dread pollute the air between Qui-Gon and Anakin. Without needing a request from his Master, Anakin rose quietly and went off in search of Master Che.
Obi-Wan sighed, resigned to more poking and prodding from the Healers. He had missed being with his Master, but he definitely had not missed the overbearing concern that often came along with it.
Obi-Wan lay face-up in bed, hands folded on top of his stomach. He watched Coruscant's light dance across the dark ceiling like flickering flames. Unbidden, his mind went back to the fires of Mustafar, where he had lost everything. The heat seared his skin, and the stench of burning flesh choked him until he couldn't breathe. Obi-Wan groaned, scrubbing at his face as if he could erase all those memories if he just pressed hard enough.
He let his hands fall back onto the sleep couch with a sigh. There had been something bothering him from the moment he had materialized, but unfortunately, he had been too unconscious to mull over it.
Qui-Gon and Anakin had found him on Tatooine. He had materialized, unconscious, after Anakin had rescued Shmi. That he had learned from the Padawan during one of the rare moments Qui-Gon had left his bedside to bring the three of them some food.
The problem was that Qui-Gon was supposed to be his counterpart in this current timeline. That meant that Master Qui-Gon Jinn should have discovered the clone army on Kamino. He was supposed to have uncovered Count Dooku's betrayal. And yet, Qui-Gon was blissfully unaware of his former Master's fall, and Anakin mercifully still had both of his arms.
Obi-Wan groaned, sitting up and running a hand through his cropped hair. He didn't even know if Dooku had formed the Separatist Movement yet. Perhaps the man hadn't been drawn to the Dark Side after his former apprentice had survived his dealings with Darth Maul. Although Qui-Gon had never introduced him to his grand-master, Obi-Wan was reasonably sure that Qui-Gon's death was the catalyst for Dooku's turn to the Dark Side. It had been Yoda's suspicion, at least. As cold and austere as the man was, he had loved Qui-Gon like a son, in his own complicated way. Even though attachment was forbidden by the Code, no Master could ever resist the familial pull that bound them to their adoring, starry-eyed Padawan. Obi-Wan himself was a prime example of that. No matter how much he resented Qui-Gon for saddling him with this burden, in time he had learned to view training Anakin as a privilege.
Perhaps it was better that the clone army remained a secret from the Jedi Council. After all, even though the clones had fought valiantly at the side of the Jedi, it was also they who had executed Order 66 and massacred the Jedi. All along, they had only served Lord Sidious. And yet, if the Republic didn't have the clones to fight the war for them, they didn't have any protection against the Separatists' droid armies.
Furthermore, Sith only ever came in pairs. If Dooku weren't the apprentice in this reality, who could have taken his place? Would they be better or worse than he was? What if Dooku was still the apprentice, and Obi-Wan was discounting him too fast based on mere assumptions?
Each question compounded upon the last, leaving Obi-Wan with a pounding headache. Master Che would not be happy that her patient was brooding instead of resting. He had always been a worrier, and that was not a habit he could shake lightly.
The only solution Obi-Wan could currently think of in his muddled state was to charge Palpatine and assassinate him before the Dark Lord could sink his claws even further into the galaxy than he already has. But Yoda hadn't believed that he had the capability to take down the Sith Lord. And Yoda was normally right about everything.
With a sigh, Obi-Wan rolled off of the sleeper and sank to his knees, closing his eyes. He drifted off into a turbulent meditation, his mindscape holding more similarities to a raging ocean than a still lake. Perhaps the Force would have some insight for him.
He rose with the sun, having no more answers than he did when he began.