Thanks to everyone who asked for more of this story!!! I hope this is an acceptable addition.

(Obi-Wan's Thoughts)

Death is an adversary none can overcome or sway. It weighs no factors, it grants no favors. It concedes no mercy. All this, I know. For I have held Cerasi in my arms as she drew her last breath. I have felt the phantom brush of Bruck's hand before he fell. There is no victor against death's cold claim. Not even a Jedi possesses such power.

Knowing all this, certain of the threshold I had traversed, I am confounded to find myself in the realm of the living. Though I hover beyond consciousness, I know life surges through me where only death should. I can not understand the reprieve death has handed to me. It is against every aspect of its nature. A nature I now know better than most.

I was in it's realm, suffocated by its darkness, buffeted by it's void, broken by it's finality. Then, within a blinking of an eye, the realm vanished and a lighted path beckoned me. A path I had thought forfeit. For I knew, as death drew to my side, my thoughts had not spoken well of my Jedi discipline or faith.

My first step was hesitant. I feared that the path would vanish beneath my feet as my unworthiness was revealed. But the path held true and grew brighter at each step I took. My steps became bold and sure, for once, fear had no claim on me.

Abruptly my steps faltered to a stop as strong, almost tangible emotions swirl around me and hold me, not in a harsh grip but a gentle, possessive embrace. An embrace I had never known in life. But I sensed something vulnerable in the emotions - desperation. Duty, honor, morality and friendship have swayed me many times in my life but none so strongly as desperation. My own desperation or someone else's, it mattered little, I could never neglect it's agony. Just as I could not now neglect the agony that swirled around me.

I said nothing. I did nothing, save offer up my assistance to ease the desperation I sensed. It was the last moment I recalled until now. I don't remember continuing on the path, I don't remember stepping from the path or retracing my steps. Nor do I remember any fear at my new fate.

Now as I draw closer to consciousness, my body begins to register the pain coursing through it. As a flare of agony tears sharply through me, I wince and a moan escaped from my minimal barriers. I worry little about having a witness to my show of weakness. I have been injured before, I know how it feels to awaken to pain and confusion, for my return to consciousness to go unobserved, to reemerge into the world and find myself alone.

A feathery touch caresses my forehead and I flinch in surprise. I know the practical touch of the healers, their actions have no emotion save duty. But this touch, it lacks duty and speaks of compassion. It is a type of touch that is foreign to me. It evokes in me ludicrous hopes, hopes I dare not seek. Hopes I have decided to let die as I did. The reborn Obi-Wan will devote himself to duty, to practicality, to strength. He will not covet emotional ties, instead the only connection he will seek is to the Force.

"Ssshhh, you're safe," drifts into my solitary world. I dare not utter the name of my visitor, dare not think it. It is a wrong guess, I know. It is a fanciful guess, a guess born out of weakness and deep-seated need. It is a guess I would never allow a soul to know I had been foolish enough to hazard.

But more words follow, like a soft wind on my face even as a hand strokes my hair, "You're back at the temple and I'm with you, padawan." 'Padawan' echoes through my soul, unseals my cocoon of unconsciousness. I struggle through the mire that has blanketed my mind for what seems an eternity. I must know the truth, must face whatever reality awaits me. I need to know if Qui-Gon truly hovers at my side, if his soul mirrors the love his voice carries. Or is all of this just some dream, some last temptation.
But opening my eyes seems a task too great for me to achieve, regardless of my own desperation. I reach out with the force, hoping to find an anchor to the real world. Suddenly I am again embraced by emotions, emotions I now know belong to my master. A sigh of contentment vibrates through my soul as Qui-Gon's love wraps around my mind and banishes the void.

The light is harsh on my undilated eyes and I almost lose the battle to remain conscious. Just as I am about to concede defeat, my face is gently cupped in a large hand. "Come back to me, Obi-Wan. I've missed you greatly," washes into the void that has almost reclaimed me. It is enough to strengthen my fortitude and I again struggle to regain consciousness.

The world that I finally surface into lacks the brightness it had a moment before and I realize that the light in the room has been dimmed. Slowly my eyes regain their focusing ability and I see my master sitting beside me on the bed. But Qui-Gon seems changed somehow and I fear that it is all a fallacy, that this is not reality. That reality truly has me a corpse, with only my mind alive with tortuous dreams.

With astonishment I watch a tear track down my master's face and I am besieged with terror. What has befallen my strong, unflappable master?! And can I bear the hearing of this new tragedy? Suddenly I remember the desperation that drew me from my path to the force, Qui-Gon's desperation. I returned to offer my aid in his time of need, I must do as my heart dictates. I must face the calamity that has broken my master, must face it and conquer it as he has conquered so many of my personal demons.

My voice is weak and scratchy from disuse, "Master, what's wrong?" Surprise flickers across his features and I quickly tender my strength. "Whatever it is we will deal with it together." His joyous chuckle with accompanying smile bewilders me and I wonder if he finds my "strength" a pathetic gift.

But all my thoughts scatter to the far reaches of the galaxy as Qui-Gon leans over me and places a gentle kiss on my forehead. He pulls back slightly so that his eyes meet my own and the love found in their depths shocks me to my core. "I almost lost you, my Obi-Wan," and his voice trembles. He brushes a lock of my hair from my forehead and I sense his emotions settling. "And that's something I would not have survived." With tenderness, my stoic master gathers me into his arms and softly declares in my ear, "I love you, Obi-Wan. I love you as a father loves a son."

A sob hitches in my throat and I'm terrified that this is all some fantasy, some illusion conjured up by my foolish heart. But as Qui-Gon's embrace shelters and supports me, I dismantle my barriers and my sob breaks free even as I clutch desperately to the man I love as a father. I am not such a fool to waste the chance I have been give, whether it be of fantasy or factuality.

Qui-Gon strokes my hair as he tightens his hold on me but is ever mindful of my injury. "I am so proud of you, my padawan. You stopped the assassin and saved many lives almost at the cost of your own life. There is no action more worthy of a Jedi than that."

But I recall my fear as I was lying on the hanger deck floor, my anger that the force had sacrificed me for the greater good. I swallow down my sobs and bury myself deeper into the broad chest. "I was afraid, master, and angry at the fate the force had dealt me. I have no right to be a Jedi."

Qui-Gon pulls back and I brace myself for his look of disgust, a look that isn't there. Instead there is a twinkle in the eyes I know so well. He holds my face in his callused hands and brushes away my tears, "A Jedi feels fear and anger, Obi-Wan, but it is how he channels those emotions that separates him from everyone else. You let neither emotion deflect you from your path. You did what was right, what was in your heart. You are a credit to the order and to me."

A smile beams on my face. I have faced my trial with worthiness and have earned the gift I thought out of my reach- Qui-Gon's love. "I love you, master," I confess softly.

But Qui-Gon looks away at my words and I watch as he swallows hard before facing me again, "I know you do, Padawan. And I have never deserved your love...but I will. I will earn that honor that you have bestowed on me. I will not shut you out as I have done from the start, I will not make you pay for Xanatos' sins any longer." And before I can react to the declarations, I am again gathered into my master's arms.

I feel safer than I have ever felt before, as if space itself holds no threat to me while I am in Qui-Gon's arms. But a part of me hunkers down in the dark reserves of my heart, refusing to relinquish itself to the moment, to believe this reality. And I can't banish the thoughts it whispers...'How long will this moment last? What transgressions will my master's love endure? And how will I go on when Qui-Gon's barriers return, leaving me alone, adrift, broken.'

Clutching tighter to Qui-Gon, I steel myself against the truth. There are no guarantees in life, no promises kept forever. I will not render my whole heart to Qui-Gon, to his momentary vulnerability. No, the reborn Obi-Wan that I have become will accept that their is harshness lurking, even in this new miraculously pleasurable reality. I will greedily clutch onto any love Qui-Gon offers but I will accept it as a rare, precious treasure. A treasure that can flicker out like a star, without warning, without apology.

But I am determined that this treasure, no matter how ephemeral, will banish the void that has occupied my heart for so long. Even when Qui-Gon retreats back behind his barriers, I will have the sweet memories of his love to sustain me, forever. And if Qui-Gon discovers that a fragment of the void remains, encased in the portion of my heart that I won't allow him to break, he too must find satisfaction in a gift that is imperfect and temporal.

Gently, Qui-Gon eases me back onto the bed and strokes my cheek with his large hand. The force is alive with his love, his concern and his protection. I feel ashamed of the distrust I harbor about the endurance of my master's love. Ashamed but not repentant. I have stood on the abyss of space, of life itself, and was granted another chance, a chance to be stronger than I was before, to guard myself against pain. To find worth in my own soul and not through another's eyes. I will not abandon this second chance but neither can I abandon the miracle of Qui-Gon's love. No, I will clutch both gifts tightly to my chest and face the onslaught of reality. I will travel the path I was fated to journey upon, a path that will forge me into the Jedi I am destined to be.


To be continued

(I know, it's cruel of me to throw in a TBC but the next part is almost complete. )