"Succumb Intoxication"

by ; andrea

x . c h a p t e r f i v e

; i'm sorry

- - -

Obi-Wan felt himself giving into his sadness.

Obi-Wan Kenobi stared into the eyes of what his old master used to be. He could almost see all the compassion—all the regret for what he had done rush into those dark eyes of his. Did Mikal Rela really want him to be with him—but on the Dark side? No, this was a trick. For Obi-Wan saw the rush of trickery in his eyes wash away all the compassion and replace it with apathy and deception.

"Come with me, my apprentice," his voice called quietly with a dismal grin on his face.

The youth stared for another moment before he stood up shakily. He could see the dismal smile on his ex-master's face soften. Obi-Wan straightened himself, taking off his hood and brushing off his cloak. Mikal stood up and looked down at Obi-Wan, now smiling darkly.

"That's a boy. Now all you need to do is open our old bond... That's all!" he whispered excitedly.

Obi-Wan hesitated for a moment. He did not move.

"Come on. You're so close."

Obi-Wan's cloak fell to the sandy ground. It made a 'thump' sound as it fell. His blue light saber ignited.

"You can't fool me anymore, Mikal Rela. I'm sick of being tricked. And the last thing I want in my life is to be manipulated by you. If you don't love me—why even try?!"

Mikal Rela grinned widely. A flash of red appeared before his tall form—but before him stood another. "You've grown." Mikal's eyes trailed across Obi-Wan. He was a fine Jedi for fifteen. Do you think you can kill me?"

"Killing you won't solve anything—but if that's what has to be done, then so be it."

"I sense your sadness. This anger," he hissed, "won't solve anything. Will this anger make Qui-Gon want you? If you just come with me..."

"Your deception won't work on me anymore! I know I'm not worth it!" he yelled.

Suddenly, a vision flashed before Obi-Wan's eyes. It was a vision of himself, falling, to the floor, dead...? Injured? He didn't know. But the cause of his fall was because of a red blade.

Mikal grinned.

"Run."

Obi-Wan's hands trembled.

"Run. While you still can. Just run away, Obi. Run away or I'll catch you, Obi. Run."

Obi-Wan's mouth dropped open, trying to say something, but he couldn't find his voice.

"RUN." Mikal's voice was a harsh whisper and his eyes were menacing with evil. Evil that was dripping from every pore from the skin of his pale face. It was the evil that was steaming into the air.

And his blue light saber fell from his hands. The only sound heard throughout the quiet Tatooine alleyway was that of Obi-Wan's boots padding against the sand. He was not running towards Lalé's hut where Qui-Gon was. Where Qui-Gon was, pacing back and forth, anxiously waiting for the boy to return from his 'walk.'

- - -

Qui-Gon paused, hearing a soft knock on the door. Lalé was busy in the kitchen doing something, most likely, making a meal for Obi-Wan and himself. Lalé, no doubt, was a fairly decent woman—at least, when she wasn't on the streets of Tatooine.

The soft knock came at the door again, but this time louder.

Qui-Gon made his way to the door and opened it slowly.

He was surprised to have something thrown at him, but he caught it indifferently. The dark figure in the doorway turned and left. Qui-Gon was too surprised to even run after the figure.

Obi-Wan Kenobi's light saber was thrown at him.

And the figure in the doorway was definitely not Obi-Wan Kenobi. Qui-Gon's mind raced for a moment. Search for the boy. Search for the boy. Search for the boy, something in the back of his mind told him.

"Miss Lalé, I'll return."

And with that, he was out the door.

- - -

Obi-Wan had no idea where he was. He knew that if he were somewhat semi-conscious about the world around him, he wouldn't like it. But he wouldn't like anywhere he would be right now. He wondered... what it would be like... to just... be gone. He lost any source of will to do anything that moment. He just fell to the side of the sandy alleyway under the two moons. Leaning against the wall, he slid down. He felt some dry, scaly creature slither over his fingertips. He held his breath.

Then he lay his head against the floor.

All those silly dreams—all those silly dreams of being a great Jedi. He could have sworn he would have given in. What made him run? What made him run away?

Mikal told him to run.

All those silly dreams of being someone. What was he now? He was a cowering, worthless little boy on the floor of a worthless planet. He knew what he was. He knew he couldn't deny it anymore. Obi-Wan felt himself shaking softly, but uncontrollably. When was the last time he had eaten?

Food...

Would he eventually starve himself to death?

The option was likely now. Who would stop him? He obviously had no more self-dignity.

"Obi-Wan. You're such a good boy," he told himself. "I'd be glad to take you as my padawan learner. You're such a good, good boy. You believe in yourself so well. I believe in you, too, Obi. I love you, padawan."

He repeated those words over and over and over and over. I love you, padawan. He wished he could hear those words come from someone else's mouth besides his own. He could see his fingers tracing in the sand under the dim moonlight. What was he writing? He didn't know—maybe random characters of random languages?

"I love you, padawan."

Sometimes he wished those words weren't such a lie. No, he always wished those words weren't a lie. Even if they only left his mouth, in replace of his master's, it was still a lie. He shook. He shook terribly. Then he forced himself to close his eyes.

He knew he was welcoming every alien to take every single one of his belongings by just falling asleep here. He didn't mind. He didn't care. It didn't matter if he didn't matter.

- - -

Qui-Gon came back to Lalé's home. His search was a failure. He had no idea how to find the boy. Most likely, if he didn't have his saber with him, he was either dead or being held ransom for, or robbed. There was really no use for a boy—

Qui-Gon's breath caught in his throat. There was no use for a boy unless he was a slave. Had he failed a mission? Had he failed the mission to bring Obi-Wan to Tatooine in safety? SAFETY? There was no such thing as safety on Tatooine! What was he thinking! Bringing a fifteen-year-old boy here to stay for the rest of his life? He would wind up being either dead or turned into some kind of smuggler or bounty hunter! He would be no Jedi!

He leaned against the doorway. Lalé stood in the hallway, holding a bowl in her hand as she stirred the contents in it with a metal spoon.

"Did you find the boy?"

"No," he answered simply as he took a deep breath.

"He ran away?" She clicked her tongue a few times. "Not a good impression, might I mind you, Jinn."

"I—think I need to think this over. I am not sure... if the council wishes this."

"The council? Ah, sure," she said obliviously as she walked back into the kitchen.

Lalé would be a good woman unless she would just give up her life of deception and gambling. How did he come to meet her anyway...?

It was a few years ago...

He decided not to flood himself back with memories. Focus on the present, Qui-Gon, he told himself. Then he laughed quietly. Present? Is that what you've been doing? That's why the boy is... in such a terrible position. You... keep focusing on the past. You have a padawan—you have responsibility, Qui-Gon. You—must think of the boy. Is this right for him? Was it right to have slapped him?

No, I shouldn't have slapped him. I did it out of anger. And, now... what is he doing? He's lost on Tatooine because of me—probably dead. Yes, he's probably dead because of you and your dwellings on the past! But he did mean what he said. He did not know how to handle his emotions, though.

The boy has no will to handle his emotions. The boy is full of anger and depression. If he would give in to the Dark side, he would definitely be their ultimate puppet—their ultimate toy.

The boy is dangerous.

At that moment, he decided he would find the boy. He would find the boy—even if that meant opening up their closed bond. He could not risk a Jedi to the Dark side—especially when he was capable of stopping it. Qui-Gon closed his eyes and felt the Force wrap around him. He searched for the boy's weak Force signature, and found it easily.

Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon called through the boy's delicate bond with his master. Obi-Wan, where are you?

What surprised him somewhat was the incredible emotion that spilled from the boy's aura. It was unthinkable pain. It was unbelievable sorrow. It was unimaginable suffering. But the Jedi Master sensed no hate. No hate what so ever. Why would he ever think this boy was full of hate? Maybe because he spoke of such disgust towards the Jedi that morning. Why had he done that? The only way Qui-Gon would find out would be to ask the boy himself.

Obi-Wan, answer me.

The boy's thoughts didn't answer.

Obi-Wan! Where are you?

Master...?

The thought was so weak, Qui-Gon wasn't sure if he felt it.

Obi-Wan? Where are you?

I—don't know. I'm sorry. I'll come back...

Good.

But—I can't stand. I'm so weak. I can't do anything right, master. I'm so pitiful. He told me to run—and—and I did. I ran like a child. I am a child. I am a stupid, pitiful, pitiful, pitiful, worthless child.

Just come back, Obi-Wan.

I can't. He'll find me. Master, our bond...

Just come back.

Why did you open our bond, Master? I thought—I...

Where are you? Stay where you are.

Qui-Gon flung open the door and ran out.

- - -

Obi-Wan was so bruised up. The rough alien smugglers and robbers stole almost every valuable thing Obi-Wan had—that also included his pride. But did he have pride in the first place? No. He never had pride. He never had any self-dignity. All they stole from him were his things—which also included his cloak and half of the top layer of his tunic. They also managed to give the padawan a black eye in the process.

"I love you, my padawan," he whispered to himself. "I love you, my padawan."

He was oblivious to the fact that he felt strong arms wrap around him. He just kept on whispering to himself. His headache was throbbing, as well as his vision. But, for some reason, he didn't retaliate. He just yielded to the feeling that seemed to probe into his mind. It was a good feeling, though. It felt like something the healers would have done if he were had a nasty accident in saber practice.

But, wait. He wasn't on Coruscant.

Putting the thought aside, he slowly leaned his head against the cloth of a Jedi robe. He kept on whispering to himself. Maybe if he whispered, it might all just go away...

- - -

When Obi-Wan woke up, he realized that he wasn't anywhere near Tatooine. He was on the ship. He was on the ship that him and his master rode to Tatooine.

Master...

Obi-Wan jerked himself up from his cot and stumbled his way to stand up.


"Master—he—Rela—Dark side! Master, where are you?"

Panic rushed through him as his eyes searched around the white room desperately. The door! He ran to the door and clicked the pad next to it and it opened swiftly as he stumbled out into the hallway, knocking himself into the other wall. He grabbed onto the railing and tried to run somewhere—somewhere where his master would be.

He stopped abruptly though, still holding onto the rail. He turned around slowly, cautiously, while building up his mental shields.

"Master..." he sighed, relieved, but he did not show it. He straightened himself up. There were a few bruises on his face, and he felt them throb from the sudden rush of adrenaline and the abrupt stop.

"What are you doing up?" Qui-Gon said sternly as he put his hands on his hips in a high-ranking pose.

"I was wondering—I—last night... I lost..."

"Your light saber? I know." He motioned to his belt. There were two sabers hooked to it.

Obi-Wan swallowed. He also knew that one of those bruises were not from last night. He smiled at his Master. He tried to smile. He did, actually, but it was a very nervous smile.

"I didn't—mean to. He said run and I did... and then... here—why am I here and not on Tatooine, master? Master? Should I call you that...? I know you didn't like me calling you that... I didn't mean to burden you once more last night. I was just sick—last night... so hungry..."

Qui-Gon had not stopped the boy's babbling that made absolutely no sense to him. He figured the boy must need to get it out. When the boy closed his mouth, now embarrassed or ashamed, he tried to probe into his mind through their bond, but found the shields were up tight.

"Yes, Obi-Wan. You were sick. Explain to me why I received your light saber last night from a knock on Lalé's door?"

He could see the boy was visibly trembling.

"Master. There's—something I need to tell you. I don't think the Council told you... about one of my old masters."

Obi-Wan's eyes traced down to the floor, his mouth still half-open with the words he still wanted to say.

"Yes?" Qui-Gon urged him on indifferently.

"Mikal Rela joined the Dark side. He was my master once. And, he, he... he's been following me. I didn't know it. He—at the Cantina he approached me. He scared me, Master. I didn't know... I didn't know anything. I was scared of him. He also followed me when—Lalé... He told me to run. I did. I ran... I ran from him, from you, from... me. And, you know what? I felt... angry."

Obi-Wan scowled and clenched his fists, looking away.

Qui-Gon did not say anything.

"I felt angry—and I didn't like it, Master. He asked me—he asked me to give in. He wanted me to come with him. He said he loved me." His fingers loosened and his face softened. "Right then I knew he was lying."

Qui-Gon still did not say anything. His eyes only stared down at the boy in front of him.

"Sometimes I say... things—as if you were there. And then—I wish you would be listening. But—now that you are... I'm too scared to tell you. I'm too scared..."

"Do not be scared of anything, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan forced a dry laugh. "Yeah. But it's hard to. Especially when—when. Damn it. I don't know. I don't know a damn thing, do I, Master?"

Obi-Wan looked up to Qui-Gon with his tear-brimming eyes.

"I don't know a damn thing. I'm such a damn imbecile, jerk, idiot, fool. And, you know what? I felt myself giving into him. I felt something terrible though. Do you know what I felt? Do you know why I didn't turn?"

Qui-Gon didn't answer. His face remained motionless.

"Because I thought about you." Obi-Wan laughed dryly again. "You. Because I thought about someone that didn't even give a damn about me. He didn't care if I would rot myself in misery on Tatooine. And I know why you came after me, too. Because you knew... you knew something. I don't know what, but you knew. You thought I was going to turn. You didn't want another one to turn to the Dark side. You could care less if I was some lost boy. You would have done that for anyone. The one thing I want to know is—what I've always wanted to know is—why... do you hate me?"

"Because—" he began quietly.

"Don't answer that... please." Obi-Wan swallowed and a tear rolled down his cheek. "I... I'm sorry."

He laughed. Obi-Wan laughed. He laughed at himself, wiping the tear away from his face as he looked down.

"It's funny, really. Here I am spilling everything out to you. In the middle of a hallway. Of a ship I don't even know where it's heading. And you can just stand there. Silent. Silent, while I just tell you... everything... Maybe I was better off on Tatooine. At least I wouldn't have to be by anyone who would do this to me. You were right, though. And you have your chance. You can get rid of me. You can just throw me away like everyone else did." He sniffed, feeling his knees getting weak.

"Your sick. You should go back to bed," Qui-Gon stated calmly.

"You think I'm an idiot. I am. I guess no one would have told me that truth. Yeah, I'm sick, too. I've been sick. I've been sick. I've been very sick. I haven't eaten at all. I think it's bad for my body. But no one seems to care—which is OK I guess. But it feels terrible. It feels so damn terrible. It's like I'm rotting away every single minute. And, now, if I do eat, it's gone in the next few minutes because I just vomit it up anyway. So I don't see the point. I wonder how long someone can stay like this... How long do you think, Master?"

"Not very long."

"That's what I was hoping."

Qui-Gon stiffened. "What?"

"Well. Last night. I figured. What's the point? Tell me, Master, what is the point? Where are we going—and what point does it have for me?"

"We're going to the Council to speak of you. You are vulnerable to the Dark side."

"Wouldn't it be easier if I just... if I just... Oh, Master. What's wrong with me? I'm not right. This isn't right. We should be—we should be nice. We should have a nice bond. We should have a nice relationship. We should have nice quarters where we would talk about nice things. And after saber battles you would congratulate me nicely and take me out to nice dinner on a nice level of Coruscant—maybe just one nice day in my life. There wasn't a day when I would get—when I would get to talk to you. Sure we would talk. But we wouldn't talk."

"I know what you're talking about."

"Then why haven't we? Why haven't we talked one damn time about something besides—besides... Oh, I'm yelling... I'm sorry... I can't... think right." Obi-Wan's face fell from anger to shame in a split second. "I'm sorry. It's not my place... I shouldn't be talking this... this way... I..." Obi-Wan rubbed his face, and he intentionally rubbed the bruise from where Qui-Gon had hit him. "I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry for waltzing into your life. You were better off without me. I'm sorry..."

"It wasn't your choice."

"I know it wasn't my choice. But... for some reason, well, I know the reason, I wanted to be with you. To say the damn truth is, well... I admired you. I thought you were a great Jedi. I also knew that... I was a big thorn in your side. I liked you, Qui-Gon. Remember... remember that day when... when you were sick...? You were all alone in the room of a thousand fountains and I gave you something stupid. Something you probably don't remember. Well. I gave you that little flower and set it by you. That was when no one would talk to me because they felt intimidated by me—because my master had turned. Do you remember that stupid flower?"

"Yes. I remember. That was when a dear friend of mine had died."

"Well... I was sitting alone, too. You didn't see me... but... I put a bunch of flowers next to you while you were meditating and ran off." Obi-Wan laughed. And this time when he wiped the tears from his face, they didn't flow back.

"I remember those flowers. They died later that day."

Obi-Wan paused. "Oh."

A long silence passed between them as Obi-Wan stared at the floor.

He forced a light laugh that he didn't open his mouth for. Qui-Gon looked at the boy and realized that he wasn't laughing, but he was sobbing.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered as he stumbled to the side. He was trying to walk away but was failing miserably. Why did he have to bring that subject up? To humiliate himself even more?! "I thought... the flowers would've cheered you up..."

And with that, Obi-Wan stumbled into the room that he had woken up in and locked the door. He plopped down on the bed and cried himself softly to sleep.

Qui-Gon tried to reach out to the boy and say he was sorry for what he had just said. He was only telling the truth. The flowers did die that day. But before he could reach Obi-Wan, he heard the door shut and lock.

"I'm sorry, padawan." I can never say anything right anymore.

- - -

A/N: Heh. So now you understand why Obi-Wan loved Qui-Gon so much? He admired him. Yep. I got tears in my eyes while writing this. I'm so pitiful. :D