Twenty Four: Home Lost

Calmly, her pale blue eyes never straying, the healer walks closer, stopping at a comfortable distance from me. "You haven't slept since that day?"

I inhale behind clamped lips, then nod.

She crosses her arms and her lavender tunic rustles in the silence. I want to know what she's thinking, what condemnations she's already drawn up in her discerning, educated mind, what new and damning syndromes my insomnia falls under.

Perhaps now I've settled the noose around my neck and my feet are in danger of loosing contact with the earth.

But at least, if I've designed my own execution, Obi-Wan has been spared his place beside me there.

"Master Jinn," She begins, "We're talking months of continuous consciousness."

I pull at the coarse rope to allow myself room to nod.

She breathes out. "In itself, that is a gigantic feat. But you haven't halted your normal activities--demanding physical and mental activities."

"I couldn't stop them. My apprentice has to be trained." I explain my actions with intrinsic impulse, a half-plea underneath. If I'm to be reprimanded, Obi-Wan cannot be left to flounder without a proper instructor. My hands fist beneath my tunic sleeves, and it feels like my heart's been pressed into the palms, and is being squeezed to the breaking point.

"And he's lying here, being treated for exhaustion." Meelon observes. "So what state would that put you in, Master? Because I'm fairly certain that he's slept more than you have these past few months."

"I'm unconcerned with such a comparison." I answer honestly, striving not to sound spiteful or, for the first time in my life, rebellious. "I don't care what effect this is having on me. I--I was trying to contact you, Healer Meelon, when you walked in."

Her eyes widen, for a small beat, in surprise.

"I was trying to contact you because I'm beginning--I'm beginning to realize what effect this is having on my Padawan. I've been so afraid of losing him, of something happening that would take him away from me…as it did on Ejhlon…that I demanded no shields be placed around his thoughts. That way, I would never have to worry…because I would be tuned in to him--always.

"But I allowed myself to forget how strong he is. I guess I…let my knowledge of his captivity weaken my perception of his abilities. I began to think of him as something I had to hold very close, or he would wander away, or break. I forgot my own teachings." I sigh. "I forgot all the shielding techniques I've shown him in the past. I didn't believe he was hearing the fear and agitation in my thoughts…but he was…gods for him to be here he must've heard it all…but he was able to block that off from me." Hopelessly weary, I sink into the chair beside his bed. "And I'm sure if I had any idea, I pushed it aside…because it would be easier to continue the way things were going, if I was under the illusion that he was totally oblivious." I rest my forehead in my hand.

Meelon tilts her head toward me, a rippling drift of brown hair falling to soften her profile. "Now, Qui-Gon, do you believe he was oblivious?"

I snort against the rough heel of my hand. "No. Every night that I sat in his room, waiting for the monster to leap from the shadows or a blaster bolt to shatter the window, he was awake along with me. Maybe his…eyes weren't open, but his mind was, soaking it up. " I glance over at him, a painful mistake, for the rain I had until now held at bay is descending like rapids from my eyes.

I feel a light weight on my shoulder and see Meelon standing there. "You've always been a rational man. To Obi-Wan, I'm sure you're much more.

"And if you're on guard against monsters and blaster bolts, then he'll believe they're real. Eventually, your fears convinced him of that. If you warn him of an enemy, he will have every faith that the enemy is a true threat, and stand at attention, waiting for that enemy to strike, just as you've taught him."

"But the enemy is real." I debate hoarsely. "He was kidnapped by the enemy on Ejhlon."

"And he's stubbed his toe on his desk before. That doesn't mean you assume every desk will harm him the same way and shut him away from them, until he's just as terrified of desks as you are."

I smile, staring down at the floor. "That's not quite the same thing."

"The people who took Obi-Wan were living creatures. Master Windu is also a living creature. One who would never place your apprentice in danger. You were in near hysterics because Mace led Obi-Wan in a spar for an hour. And you cut him off from his friends…"

"It isn't that I distrust Bant or Garen or any of his friends. But if they left the Temple…"

"There would be massive amounts of living creatures, in swarms, everywhere, waiting to steal him away just as the men on Ejhlon did."

"I'm not insane for wanting to protect him." I state. "I had seven months to think of what I would've done if he was never taken…what I would say to him, how I would treat him, where I would take him. It was like a dream I went to. A-And then he was home again, and all of a sudden I could do all the things I could only dream about before--I could talk to him, I could just sit in the silence and look at his face, the face that was restricted to old holocubes for so damn long. How could I--how can I--let go, even a little bit, now that he's home again?"

She smiles, very faintly. "Because if you don't let go, then he'll never be home."

I look at her, too drained to question what she's saying.

"He's in the Temple, of course, but that's just a technical sense of the word. He came back, but not to the same Master. He left a prison and returned to the Temple to find a warden."

"We still eat together, we still talk."

"As long as you do so within the confines of your quarters."

I run my fingers through my hair, but it does nothing to alleviate the swelling ache growing in my head. "It's safer that way. I'm still the same person--I am, but now I'm more aware of…my surroundings."

"Because your surroundings are limited to a few rooms and a door that can be locked against the outside world. "

"I--" But then, words fill my skull, words made more painful by the accent that shapes them.

"Maybe…Maybe tonight we could go to the Gardens, Master. Or the fountains."

And I can hear the echo of my thoughts, the automatic 'no' to his very small request. He must've been disappointed, but that I refused to hear, it could have punched a hole in all my defenses.

He must have known that, too, and to protect me, he turned down the Chancellor's offer to read his speech, he didn't attempt to sit with his friends in the cafeteria…He assured me he would go directly to our quarters after his match with Mace.

Oh….dear….force…

I press my balled hand against my temple.

"He'll never be anything but your apprentice."

Gods why didn't I find any error in that? Why was I content to rob him of his normal advancement, to bottle up his potential and keep it safely stowed within the apartment, within my control as his teacher?

Miserably, I raise my gaze to Meelon. "Don't take him away…I think I'll die if I lose him."

"Then you're dooming yourself to an early grave, Qui-Gon. Every Master loses their Padawan…to Knighthood." She says--knowingly, as if I were projecting every last thought that passed through my brain. "And if you try to stop that…it just might kill you both, in the worst way."

She squeezes my shoulder, then slips out of the room.