Vestiges

A Vignette by LuvEwan

PG-13

Main Character: Obi-Wan Kenobi

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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Someone would find him.

It was the fraying rope that bound his dissembling mind, that tied together remnants that would have otherwise gone skittering into oblivion. The frail and colorless ribbon that pulled him from the chasm of potential insanity, but in its efforts sacrificed many of its fibers.

If he began to careen again, his eyes sinking from the earth around him into himself and the murky landscape of his mind, even if he grabbed for that salvation with raw, desperate fingers--it could still break.

And then he would be free-falling, into the pits of bitter uncertainty, to drown in the ether of detachment.

He had dropped from the traitorous mountainside, clumps of grit and rock spraying from his opened hands as he descended. Face and belly down, he landed on the forest floor, wreathed by a rising plume of dust.

For a brief moment, he floundered in the breathless shock of his body colliding with the ground-at first, it seemed he was caught in a perpetual plunge, only afterwards did he realize how quickly he came from clinging to the hill's jagged face to being outspread on a bed of rotting leaves and stone.

Then, blinking furiously in a struggle against the powdered grime, he attempted to stand, or at least move. But his limbs screamed their resistance, and much of his strength was drained by injury, as well as calling on the Force-suddenly and wholeheartedly-to cushion his fall.

What good that did.

The sun had been high and radiating effervescent shafts of gold when he stumbled. The shrouded shelter of leaves taunted him, a mere handful of feet away, where the clusters of trees gave way to a clearing. Now the molten core above him was surrendering to respite beneath the horizon, nestled in a faraway darkness, leaving warm, diluted echoes of lavender and burnished scarlet, tinting the edges of his vision.

It was the prime of summer, so he had stripped off his tunics before beginning the climb. He felt a rush of satisfaction in the freedom of such a simple gesture, of peeling off the burden of heavy clothing and reveling in the slight breeze swirling around his skin. There had been a slick, glistening sheen of sweat on his chest when he lost his footing…

And it had been replaced since then as clammy beads on his back.

He was never thrown-or even slipped-into unconsciousness. His was an unyielding, unforgiving cognizance, in which every grinding pain was fully experienced. His state had left him in a paralysis, smothered by the heat, his eyes wandering the limited panorama.

He caught sight of an insect, tiny and black, flying in half-circles near the ground.

The buzzing was a delicate sound, but in the strict silence, it coalesced with his own ragged intakes of air, until he felt that he himself were buzzing. His focus dwindled to the small target and his eyes were pinned to it, the shrill noise, the fuzzy dark speck…

Obi-Wan clamped his eyes shut, for he had begun to feel that the miniscule creature was his eye, was the black pupil of it.

Faintly, Obi-Wan wondered if he was feverish--or delirious.

But I would know, wouldn't I? If I was delirious?

No--of course there was no way of knowing.

Perhaps he had been rescued, by a passerby or--or better, his companion, who offered to stay behind this morning, as they sat at the quaint wooden table eating early meal, to allow him to be alone with his thoughts.

It was not often Obi-Wan could take advantage of such a rare opportunity. Sabbaticals-be they a year or a day-were not necessary for a Jedi. He had felt a knot of guilt in his belly when he started off, hearing his own, unaccompanied footsteps.

Alone…'m certainly alone now.

He looked dimly at the forest brush, his face pressed against the leaves.

Or maybe he had already succumbed to the lulling darkness, and these musings were nothing but lingering vestiges of his departed soul, like the soft projections of the sun, ever fading. What if no one had searched for him at all?

Maybe I'm being devoured by wild chi-tsas right now.

He grunted at that. It had always been his manner to crack jokes while at the cusp of danger…or fear.

No…mm..I'm not frightened…What do I have to be frightened of?

He opened one, anguish-bright eye, a smooth azure jewel in the midst of rugged nature, splashed with dew.

I'm not frightened…because someone's coming…He's coming…He wouldn't leave me here…I've stood beside him…

He ran his tongue across his lips.

I just have…have to be patient.

He flexed his toes from within the hot boots and damp stockings, expelling a relieved sigh when they moved.

It confirmed that he was, indeed, still there, that he had not faded into nonexistence, had not become the pitch sky or dirt, that his body was not a husk, was not floating or as weightless as he felt.

I just have to be patient.

He reached for the balm only the Force could provide, but it remained elusive, a whisper behind a screen. His lungs began to tighten; he forced a calm intake of pine-rich air to counteract the threat.

Patience.

A sharp, animalistic cry broke through the quiet. He sealed his eye.

Patience…will hold your heart when…it…it wishes to take flight.

His head was full of sayings, of mantras and scraps of wisdom, that passed from so many lips, revived by the voice that resounded in his mind.

But they were melding together, bleeding into a whirling melange of words. He blinked, in a feeble attempt to regain clarity.

Patience…is what?

There is no patience? I…

There is no patience…there is passion…no…hmm…there is…

The pain began to numb. His eyes drifted shut.

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And snapped open.

The forest was gone. Instead, he was surrounded by pulpy orange sky and rolling clouds, stringing through the atmosphere, gray and dripping with lusterless rain.

Obi-Wan moved to stand, but his bones were brick.

"N-No. Someone found me." His lips quivered. His stilted periphery told him the scenery was most definitely changed. "Someone m-must've found me. H-He'll come back." He shivered at a sudden wind gust. "H-He must've found me."

Then why am I left here…in the cold…it's cold…

His fingers curled, but he could not bring his hands closer, to huddle in the heat of his body. Wearily, he let himself relax against the hard, icy surface on which he lay. His half-lidded eyes stared into the empty distance.

He'll come back.

H-He wouldn't leave me…here…I don't know where…

He wouldn't leave me.

He was alarmed by the doubt that riddled that thought.

A clap of thunder jarred him, and he uttered a small cry.

Thunder--and a voice.

"You. Everything killed, everything wrecked and ravaged, but you."

The words were acid, sizzling on his bare skin.

"W-What?" Obi-Wan struggled to turn, to see the face of whoever was speaking to him with such ruthless vehemence. "No…I…Where is he? He must've found me."

An uneven, maniacal laugh. "No, he hasn't."

A crackling crash.

"But he will, Master Kenobi. He will."

The unnamed creature crouched down, assaulting Obi-Wan's vision with bruises, blood. "And I hope you suffer, the way we all have." He spat. One yellowed eye blinked at him, a fresh laceration cutting from the socket. "Suffer, alone, you fool."

Obi-Wan looked into the ruined face, unable to rip his watering gaze away.

The creature's mouth was purpled and swelled. It slowly curled into a smile.

And, in that moment, Obi-Wan understood. The sky contracted and pulsed thickly above him. His eyes widened.

Gods…no…

He wanted to ball himself up and hide in the refuge of his arms.

But he was frozen--alone, with the terrible knowledge inside.

It seemed he would have all eternity to be patient, for his darkness to spread while he fell under the horizon line, for his rippling warmth and color to dissipate…at last…

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"Obi-Wan!"

His eyes moved beneath the lids, as he groggily lifted from the fog of exhausted slumber. "Mmmmph." A hand touched his temple, then brushed down to his jaw.

I can…move?

But his fingers were slack among the pebbles and stems.

The hand, hot and trembling, continued to maintain contact, along his neck and back.

Obi-Wan bit down on his lip.

No…I'm delirious…I'm alone…No one found me. No one came…No one will come for me…

Violent memory attacked him, then settled into the aching hole of his stomach, and he felt an awful void, eating away at him.

Alone…

"Obi-Wan."

The voice persisted, and he was devoid of the power to block it out. He could only bury his face in the nest of browned leaves and hope the ghost of his imagination would retreat.

"Obi-Wan, talk to me. Tell me you're alright."

'Everything killed but you'…All alone and the sky toppling…

No…

"Padawan!"

The rumble shook him, and he gasped, moisture spiking in his itching eyes.

"M-Master?" He rasped.

Rough-hewn fingers caressed his cheek and he glimpsed Qui-Gon's haggard face through the haze swarming his sight.

Qui-Gon smiled gently. "Thank the Force. You didn't come back for so long--I should've been here sooner but you didn't say where you were going…I didn't know where to go. Your presence was muffled."

Obi-Wan fought the sobs building in his chest and lumping in his throat. "I…fell."

Qui-Gon nodded, draping his cloak over the battered body. "Help will be here soon. I don't want to risk moving you."

Obi-Wan weakly nodded his understanding, his eyes drifting close.

And he saw twilight once more, as he had in the forest, in the nightmare, felt the gnaw of isolation and deterioration.

'He will, Master Kenobi'.

His teacher's hand rested on his head. He was comforted by the steady weight.

'Suffer, alone, you fool'.

Sleep crept up and claimed him once more, releasing him from the grip of confusion and disquiet--nearly.

I fell…and no one caught me.

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