Getting pretty close to the end!
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The fan whirled at a slow clip above him, and Obi-Wan watched the progress with slit-thin eyes, his forearm lain across his forehead. He was stretched out on the beaten, caramel colored sofa, so pliant and in tune with his body he felt as though he had sunk into it, and was being cradled, instead of reclining flat on the square cushions.
A hanging lamp was on low power, the glass shade throwing a geometric design on the ceiling, quivering as the lamp's chain twisted and untwisted at the base.
Qui-Gon strode into the small living room carrying a folded duvet and sheet, topped by a crisp white pillow. "I still don't think this is the best place for you to be sleeping, Obi-Wan. Anakin's bed would be gentler on you." A hint of reprove.
Obi-Wan easily reflected it with a smile. "I'll be fine here."
Qui-Gon sat in the armchair and looked quietly at him.
"Besides," The younger Jedi took a breath, "I think it's more comfortable here anyway."
"On that lumpy thing?"
Obi-Wan snorted and turned onto his stomach, propping his chin on the heel of a hand. "I enjoy the lumps. It took me, what, thirteen years to work them all in just the way I like 'em."
An amused expression crossed the bearded face. "Hmm…Then maybe you should've kept it."
"Ah, no." Obi-Wan grinned. " 'Cuz you see, every time you hit on one of those annoying little lumps, you'll think of me."
"What a sweet gesture, but I don't think I need to get jabbed by one of those dreadful things to remember you." Qui-Gon crossed his arms and had to quell a smile. "After all, I merely have to gaze upon the lovely juice and caffe stains you left on the carpet, the charming scratch on the table--the disemboweled Tramblean statue on my desk shelf."
Obi-Wan's eyes widened. "Oh gods! I'd forgotten about that!"
Qui-Gon quirked his lip. "You must have a terrible memory then…Forgetting two entire weeks spent scrubbing the Temple floors with a toothbrush as punishment."
The former apprentice frowned. "It wasn't two weeks. It was only two hours, scrubbing our floors…with a sponge."
"Oh. Well, it should've been two weeks. And the toothbrush should've only had one bristle."
Obi-Wan chuckled softly, dropping his head to his arm.
His weariness projected through their link, and Qui-Gon sobered. He's had enough punishment to last lifetimes.
"Why don't you sleep in the bed?" He tried again, remembering the sore, bruised limbs and painful scarring.
Obi-Wan blinked, a somber sheen coming over his eyes. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just a fraction uncomfortable in that room. It isn't mine anymore."
"You're not intruding on Anakin, if that's what you think, Obi-Wan. He's not here."
"He's not here, but he will be, and he deserves to have everything as it was when he left. And--" He swallowed. "Like I said, it's time I stopped wandering."
Qui-Gon saw that he was resigned to his previous decision. He nodded. "I know. I guess my masterly tendencies took over…I know you're not my Padawan anymore. But in some ways, you'll always be and I'll always worry about you.
"Just as I'll be here, whenever you need me. Anakin's my apprentice now, yes, but the ties I made with my students shouldn't be severed because of that. I'd hope that Ani would see my caring for you during this time, and know that when he's knighted, my relationship with him would be preserved as well. You can still come to me whenever you need to--in friendship, in counsel. I'll always be willing to listen, even if I can't guide you the same as I used to."
Obi-Wan nodded. "Then--" And simply asking was like wrenching tenaciously clinging roots from his soul, "Can I tell you something? Something that happened while-while I was on N'h'ago?"
"You know you can."
Obi-Wan rolled onto his back again and focused on the twirling fan blades, his hands folded on his stomach. "When I'd been imprisoned for awhile, and I was so hungry, so starved, from refusing that food…I felt like I was drifting. My mind, my body. Everything. I was floating away, and it felt good, because when I was attached to myself, I could feel the hunger, the pain, the cold. I remembered my training, and I wanted to be grounded. So I thought of my duty, my friends, you. Anything that would bring me back." A wet click in his throat, his eyes trailing from the ceiling to a memory of pure black. "But all those things, tangible as they were, were so far away. Coruscant was light years from where I was and after some time had passed, everything was becoming…it was like those things were just illusions. Nothing felt very real anymore." A single, cool tear fell quickly from the corner of his eye, then slowed as it began to course down his cheek. "And when I could hear d-death…when I could hear it calling me, it was like a lullaby. It was nice and quiet and lulling, as if I were going to sleep after a long insomnia. It was just…release, and despite what I kept telling myself, that was what I truly craved. Not escape, not home. I wanted that release." More tears descended and when they reached his jaw, they slid to his neck. "And I almost had it."
Qui-Gon leaned forward. "What do you mean?" He asked, without pressure.
Obi-Wan sniffed. His eyes and lips trembled. "I…I had the chance to let go. I was so sick and started shutting down. I could've gone along with it, gone to that voice that was calling for me. To a place where those monsters couldn't. Where I could sleep in an oblivion and not hurt anymore. I thought that my strength was gone. I thought I was weak and the fighting had gone on long enough…I thought I was too weak to fight anymore. I became complacent with that voice." His fingers curled up tight. "But then, I stopped myself, right at the last moment, right as my eyes were closing. I wasn't thinking of reasons to live, not even reasons to die.
"I just pulled myself out, to a state where I wasn't considering either stages of being, in a way I hadn't realized existed.
"I wanted to survive, without thinking, without mulling anything over. I fought again--mindlessly."
Qui-Gon moved to sit on the couch, beside Obi-Wan's legs, his hand resting on a covered knee.
"And I didn't die. I didn't get that release and I didn't die on N'h'ago." Obi-Wan sat up, struggling a moment due to his aching arms. "I knew, for the first time in my life, that it was enough to want to survive. Not for someone or something else, not for an institution or set of beliefs…but for myself. I remember the sweet call of death, but it doesn't remind me of the moments of weakness and longing. It reminds me that I drowned it out. That I was capable of enduring it and conquering it with that instinct." The moisture was drying on his face, his eyes bright, pale cerulean, clear.
Qui-Gon didn't react. He didn't do much of anything, giving Obi-Wan the space to speak, to move, to do what he wanted without interruption. Independently.
"I know that I must've been like an animal when Master Windu found me. And not much better when I was here at first. It was difficult, coming back to my normal frame of mind, with that new knowledge. Not only that I had survived, but that I could remember, vividly, the lusting sound of death. I'd never experienced something like that before and….thank you for being there, for being here…for making a life beyond pure survival…worth returning to."
Qui-Gon thought he was prepared for the impact of the words, but he discovered he wasn't, still shocked when Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around the rangy body and rested his head on an ample shoulder.
Gods…Force, my Padawan…He brought his own arms around Obi-Wan, pressing his head against the other. "Thank you, Obi-Wan. " He rasped. "F-For not giving up."
Obi-Wan pulled back a little. "I know now that I can live when everything else is against me…And I know that you'll be here, whenever you can, to ensure me I did the wise thing….B-Because you were right, Master. Ties can't be severed. You're a part of me, a part of why I survived…even when I didn't know it. I wasn't thinking of you, but it didn't matter, because you're with me to my core. Thank you."
Qui-Gon braced his face, and pressed a kiss between his brows. "And you're with me. We'll survive for ourselves…and in doing that, survive for each other." He propped his back against the coach, his embrace steady.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, hearing the phantom song…and knowing, at last, that although it was with him, it couldn't touch him.