Author's NOTES: Thanks for the reviews everyone. Reading them really make
my day. I do have some other JA fics to post besides this one so hopefully
they should be up soon.
Read, Enjoy, and Review. May the Force Be With You. 80)
Chapter 2:
Qui-Gon walked through the empty corridors of the Jedi Temple with a quick pace. Though it was early in the morning and few if any would be up, he didn't want to risk it. He didn't feel like talking with anyone, nor did he want to. All he wanted was to head back to his quarters and stay in there.
It had been that way for the greater part of the last three years. The long mourning days had turned into weeks as weeks turned into months, then years. He had stopped conversing with people, with his friends unless he was forced to. He just didn't want to have to do anything with them. But still, they came to him, one by one.
Tahl came at first, then Mace, then An-Paj and several others, but each one like the next, he dismissed them. No, actually, he forced them out. Sure they wanted to help him mend his loss, but what did they know? How could they possibly understand the agonizing pain he felt inside? The empty void inside of him that tore his soul into pieces. How could anyone truly understand his pain?
There "was" one.
Funny how a simple word could embody so much.
Yes, there was one who did understand him. A young and energetic boy, but the boy had died. He had killed the boy. Perhaps, inadvertently, but killed him he did.
A single tear fell down Qui-Gon's haggard cheekbones.
He was now standing in front of the doors to his quarters, but he couldn't go in. Perhaps any other day he could have, but not today. He looked at the closed doors in front of him in contemplation then turned to leave with a sigh.
Today not only marked the day Obi-Wan had died, three years ago, but ironically enough, it was also his former Padawan's birthday. Such a twisted sense of Fate.
//Obi-Wan would have been 20 today.// He thought bitterly to himself.
Aimlessly, Qui-Gon walked through the corridors once again. Where was he heading? He didn't know and didn't care as long as he didn't have to be in his quarters. The room had and still embodied Obi-Wan's essence. Several times at night, Qui-Gon was sure he'd heard the boy giggle over the intercom to someone. Immediately, Qui-Gon would spring up from his bed and run to Obi-Wan's door. But every single time, all he would find was an empty room. He knew it was a futile hope to wish that perhaps he could see the boy again to say "sorry" and ask the boy for forgiveness, but that was all that he had left to live for.
A small breeze brushed through his long brown hair. It was then that he'd realize where he was. He was standing on a balcony that overlooks the Coruscant's busy streets. Early as it was, the city never seems to sleep, always teeming with people and hovercrafts. At this great height, the sight was spectacular, but his gaze was only toward the ground, hundreds of feet below.
A thought crossed his mind.
It would be too easy to just jump and end the misery. It would be a coward's way out, but a way out nonetheless.
His hands gripped the railing tightly as he peered over edge. Just one swift move and it would all be over. Slowly he raised his foot to step on the railing. Just a little more.
He closed his eyes to relax himself in preparation.
He began to push his body out with his hands when he heard someone called out to him.
His heart skipped a beat, then resumed beating at quickened pace.
He was sure he'd heard it right. It wasn't the wind.
How could the wind say, "Master! Stop!"
Read, Enjoy, and Review. May the Force Be With You. 80)
Chapter 2:
Qui-Gon walked through the empty corridors of the Jedi Temple with a quick pace. Though it was early in the morning and few if any would be up, he didn't want to risk it. He didn't feel like talking with anyone, nor did he want to. All he wanted was to head back to his quarters and stay in there.
It had been that way for the greater part of the last three years. The long mourning days had turned into weeks as weeks turned into months, then years. He had stopped conversing with people, with his friends unless he was forced to. He just didn't want to have to do anything with them. But still, they came to him, one by one.
Tahl came at first, then Mace, then An-Paj and several others, but each one like the next, he dismissed them. No, actually, he forced them out. Sure they wanted to help him mend his loss, but what did they know? How could they possibly understand the agonizing pain he felt inside? The empty void inside of him that tore his soul into pieces. How could anyone truly understand his pain?
There "was" one.
Funny how a simple word could embody so much.
Yes, there was one who did understand him. A young and energetic boy, but the boy had died. He had killed the boy. Perhaps, inadvertently, but killed him he did.
A single tear fell down Qui-Gon's haggard cheekbones.
He was now standing in front of the doors to his quarters, but he couldn't go in. Perhaps any other day he could have, but not today. He looked at the closed doors in front of him in contemplation then turned to leave with a sigh.
Today not only marked the day Obi-Wan had died, three years ago, but ironically enough, it was also his former Padawan's birthday. Such a twisted sense of Fate.
//Obi-Wan would have been 20 today.// He thought bitterly to himself.
Aimlessly, Qui-Gon walked through the corridors once again. Where was he heading? He didn't know and didn't care as long as he didn't have to be in his quarters. The room had and still embodied Obi-Wan's essence. Several times at night, Qui-Gon was sure he'd heard the boy giggle over the intercom to someone. Immediately, Qui-Gon would spring up from his bed and run to Obi-Wan's door. But every single time, all he would find was an empty room. He knew it was a futile hope to wish that perhaps he could see the boy again to say "sorry" and ask the boy for forgiveness, but that was all that he had left to live for.
A small breeze brushed through his long brown hair. It was then that he'd realize where he was. He was standing on a balcony that overlooks the Coruscant's busy streets. Early as it was, the city never seems to sleep, always teeming with people and hovercrafts. At this great height, the sight was spectacular, but his gaze was only toward the ground, hundreds of feet below.
A thought crossed his mind.
It would be too easy to just jump and end the misery. It would be a coward's way out, but a way out nonetheless.
His hands gripped the railing tightly as he peered over edge. Just one swift move and it would all be over. Slowly he raised his foot to step on the railing. Just a little more.
He closed his eyes to relax himself in preparation.
He began to push his body out with his hands when he heard someone called out to him.
His heart skipped a beat, then resumed beating at quickened pace.
He was sure he'd heard it right. It wasn't the wind.
How could the wind say, "Master! Stop!"
