Twenty Six: Rest

I brace Obi-Wan's shoulders with my arm. He's still quite tired, and needs the measure of steadying support as we walk down the last strip of hallway leading to the apartment. "Almost there." I say, trying my best to sound cheerful.

They're the first words either of us have spoken since leaving the hospital--and I hope they don't come across as strained as I feel they have. It was easy to communicate within the walls of the healer's ward. We were both pulled together by the urgency of the moment.

He was hooked to tubes and needed comfort. I needed comfort too, in my heart I was thirsting for it, and found it in reassuring my apprentice, in helping him rise from the unfamiliar bed.

But now that he's released from the i.v. and bland hospital sheets, the unbroken flow of words has halted. Every attempt at conversation seems awkward, they jam up in my throat with sharp edges, and in the end, I swallow them down again.

So my belly's churning as I key in the access code to our quarters.

We're home now.

And the obstacles--distractions--have been removed.

Obi-Wan has returned to his cage.

But it can't be the same. Bars must be sawed away, freedom must rush in like a burst of air.

My Padawan must be able to breathe again, to move again, without worrying that it will stop the breath of his Master, will still his Master's heart with dread.

I switch on the lights to a low level and walk Obi-Wan to the couch.

He gratefully sits against the beaten cushion.

When will his weariness fade? I have to wonder, stepping back and looking at his sleep-creased face. When will mine?

I'm tempted to send him to bed. His exhaustion is so evident and--

I'll sit beside him again. We'll fall into the cycle again but this time, we'll fall further…he'll fall until no one will be able to catch him.

"Are you hungry?"

He smiles wanly. "No."

"Do you want some tea?"

He shakes his head.

I inhale, sinking beside him on the sofa. "Do you know how cruel you're being to your Master?"

He looks at me, and I see he doesn't catch the affection in my voice. He only hears the reprimand he perceives there to be. I pat his knee.

"I wanted some way to be able to procrastinate." I explain. "I could brew the tea, I could wait for you to drink it…but I've put this off long enough." I lightly comb through the hair at the side of his head. "I think you know that…maybe better than I do."

Obi-Wan sits up straighter. "Master?"

I feel a jab in my chest at the trusting, vulnerable tone of the word. "Obi-Wan, I need to ask you something. And you must tell me the truth, no matter what."

He nods.

His pallor has gone a little pale and I close my eyes, wishing I did not read such fear in my Padawan's face. "Why did you turn down the Chancellor's offer?"

Obi-Wan clears his throat. "I-I already told you--"

"I know what you told me. But I don't believe you."

His cheeks burn red.

"I'm not trying to be hostile with you. I just want you to tell me the truth."

His eyes break away from mine. "I knew it wouldn't be a good idea." He almost whispers.

"Why?"

"Because…Because it would mean…" He shakes his head and leans forward, putting his hands over his face.

I rub his back. "It's okay. "

He swallows with a click. "It's not okay." Without another word, in a desperate rush, he lays his head against my chest.

I wrap my arms around him. "It could be. It can be, Obi-Wan." A murmur, near his ear. "I know you're tired. After all of this, you should just be able to rest. I shouldn't keep you from that. You can sleep, my Padawan. And when you wake this time, we'll set everything right. It will be okay."

He's gone a moment later, and I know that I'm not being selfish in letting him. He needs the extra time.

We're together, Master and apprentice, and neither of us are running anymore.