Thanks for the reviews. I love reading the input offered in each one. -LuvEwan

Ten: Beads of Rain

It's the prismatic time of morning, when everything's awash in a million hues, gold and copper and beams of liquid sun, spreading through the open areas of the Temple, inviting us all to a fresh start.

As warm as it is, he's wearing his cloak, wrapped up in its voluminous layers, the hood tucked around his face, contrasting the early day colors with pure, stark shadow.

I'm compelled to pull the cowl down, but if he's comfortable with his little scrap of shelter, I won't invade. Sometimes, when he's unusually tired, he'll do that, trying to cling to sleep as though the robe were an extension of his bed. I'm certain he won't drift off in his class, though. He's always been studious and, when it comes down to it, too polite for that sort of sluggish and improper behavior.

A yawn stretches my mouth and I'm quick to cover it with a hand. I sorely miss my own cloak. In…situations such as mine, personal matters are pushed aside, a small sacrifice to achieve complete focus. Still, my bones are beginning to be more vocal in their protest of my unrest; there's a crick in my back that seems determined to remain there. While he's in session, maybe I'll take the chance to escape into a shallow meditative state, far from asleep but not altogether awake. I'll be finely tuned to his signature, of course, and end it before the class closes.

Besides, I won't be far. Outside the door in fact, standing close to the wall opposite it.

Yes, that's what I'll do.

He hasn't spoken since his few words upon waking, and the silence is suspended like a fraying string between us, straining under the tension. I want it to break, so I begin to mull over topics. Would he like to go to the Dining Hall afterwards? No, it was crowded and noisy there. That wouldn't work. Had he met with Garen yet? No, Padawan Muln was inclined to spend nights over in the Entertainment levels, at those arcades with neon lights. They were unfailingly packed with patrons, and not just chatting Jedi either. Force, why don't I just leave Obi-Wan in a dark alleyway at midnight?

I see Padawans up ahead, trickling into the classroom. I go with a safe subject, bringing it up quickly, before our time is gone. "Are you enjoying Master Selira's lectures?"

He looks up at me from beneath the draping fabric and pooling shade of his hood. There's a measure of surprise on his face. "Yes, Master. They're very--satisfactory."

And his eyes drop again, two beads of rain halted a mere moment in the gray sky before continuing downward.

I frown, realizing he's raised a few shields around himself. If I'm not open to his thoughts, I can't be totally aware of what's happening to him.

As I was that night. That night proved it doesn't matter how near we are. Without a clear connection, we risk…Hells, he's risking himself. What if something were to go wrong, and he needed me to protect him? What if he didn't have time to pull those blasted walls down again, before…

I stop walking, pulling a ragged breath into my throat. His steps slow, and he turns around, visibly confused.

"Padawan, is there a reason why you're blocking me?" I ask, my hands coming up to loosely sit on my hips.

He blinks, a pale rose blooming in each cheek. "I---"

"You know I'm always supposed to be able to communicate with you." Gods doesn't he know?

His lips compress, deepening the cleft in his chin, before he swallows. "I know. Master, I--I'm just tired and my head hurts a bit. I didn't want that to project through to you."

Then Force Obi-Wan what else do you think shouldn't? "Why not?"

Another apprentice might've huffed or rolled their eyes. Obi-Wan is neither indignant nor annoyed. Not even flustered standing here, very still. I place two fingers to his temple, sending mild waves of healing energy.

"Thanks." His lips flicker in a quick smile. "Because I…I don't want you to worry about me."

It's difficult to reply to that, with the cold, painful churning in my stomach. The welling in my heart. I look at his face, partially concealed in shadow, and shake my head. "Then you're going about it quite foolishly, Padawan. I worry more about you when you're cut off from me. I need to know, I always need to know, that you're alright."

He smiles again, a little stronger this time. "Okay, Master."

I smile, hoping he won't see the desperation, the fear so sharp it spikes in my eyes and gut. I know I have his absolute acquiescence, and if I wanted to, I could order him to stay close, to stop walking toward danger by walking away from me, even if only for an hour or two, even if those steps take him no farther than an arcade or classroom.

The hall's emptying and he glances over his shoulder at the dwindling number of students.

He has to go. "I'll be here when it lets out. Then we can take lunch at the apartment and you can catch up on your sleep." You can be where it's safe.

"I'll see you then." He says with a fast good-bye, walking briskly to make it through the closing door, his fingers curled in his robe sleeves.

And then the door shuts, sucking up my last easy breaths with it.

I stare at it for a moment, the steel providing a silvery, fogged reflection, then turn around, to begin my brief meditation.

I stand with my arms crossed, eyes slowly and with a great reluctance closing.

Light indentations in the mattress cover, shallow ripples in the sheets.

A pillow, just one pillow, the red gossamer one he was using, lying on the ground.

A buzzing silence where there should be soft snoring, or the muted spray of the shower.

The sick certainty inside him.

The void, when there should have been more than snoring or water jets, where there was meant to be the gentle presence, always with him.

"We've searched the city, Master Jinn."

"We've put out several bulletins, Master Jinn."

Walking down the streets, looking, garnering those strange stares from people who couldn't understand.

"I'm sorry, sir, but the leads seem to be growing stale."

"Come to the Temple now, you will."

Returning to motionless quarters and bottomless despair and midnight wanderings and remembering him and imaging the worst…the very worst…

It's becoming too much, the whispers and pictures that are springing from my eyelids. Gods, if I do this a second more I'm going to march into that room and withdraw him from the class and go home, home where the windows and doors can be locked…

"Master Jinn!"

I look over and see Master T'Hle'a rushing toward me at a jog, her jet black hair swept into a slick, inky bun and her dark eyes wide and focused. I know her only as Obi-Wan's Culture instructor, a tall, solidly built woman who wears deep brown tunics and was a few years behind me in training when we were children.

She's reached me by now, and I'm nearly frowning. What matter could be so pressing involving me? We're acquaintances, nothing beyond that.

"I'm glad I caught you, Master Jinn." She pushes a single stray hair from her face. "I know we're not friends, but I thought it paramount to talk to you about this."

"What is it?" I ask, marginally intrigued, my eyes moving from her to the door for a moment.

"Chancellor Velorum approached me a couple of days ago and wanted to know if I could get him in touch with one of my pupils. He was very impressed by an essay dealing with the importance of youth. How they can prevent violence, promote positive ideas. Things like that." She explained. "I told him it was Obi-Wan, and he asked if Obi-Wan would like to speak at a major fundraising banquet---"

"I don't think that would be wise." I blurt out, thinking of tables crammed with strangers. And if the Chancellor were there, at a publicized event, then there was a good chance assassins wouldn't be far. No, it wasn't wise. Not at all.

T'Hle'a's forehead creases. "That's interesting, Master Jinn.

"Because that's exactly what you're apprentice said."