~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
Chapter Nine: Love is Something
How can I go forward
When I don't know which way I'm facing?
How can I go forward
When I don't know which way to turn?
How can I go forward
Into something I'm not sure of?
Oh, no. Oh, no.
How can I give love when I don't know
What it is I'm giving?
How can I give love when I just don't know
how to give?
How can I give love when love is something
I ain't never had? -John Lennon
~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
He felt the movements within his mind, and though the foreign shifting left him wanting to shudder---he didn't. Or couldn't.
Instead he waited, letting the strange sensations touch him…and they were like silk, raw and comforting…but still cold.
He withdrew from the chill, seeking the warmth he had found in oblivion. Yet that place was now elusive to him, closed and shackled shut.
He would have cried out in frustration, but he had no voice here
Not that he was particularly familiar with that dulcet inflection yet.
Then there was another presence besides his own.
Obi-One heard something akin to words spoken, they spilled from the other's aura and twined around him as velvet would…This was not conventional language. Not even a true, distinguishable tongue.
It was simply the exchange of bare affection.
And it was beautiful.
…who?…
He couldn't really see, despite the heightened loveliness of this space, but he perceived a smile from his companion.
Me
And he wasn't quite sure how he knew it was the man named Qui-Gon.
He just knew.
How…are…you…here?
A stroke across his thoughts. I've always been here…with you…even when you couldn't feel me… And it was here that a tiny tingle of darkness invaded the soft message …even when you didn't want to feel me.
I don't…understand.
Mild caresses were instantly soothing him, chasing away the faint panic of being contacted this intimately.
You will…if you're not afraid.
Oh…I…don't…I 'm…I'm not… afraid.
Qui-Gon gave a great rush of a sigh. Because you can sense it around you.
Sense…what? Obi-One sorely wished he could see the man's face, to know with his eyes the kindness he felt in his heart.
The Force, my child.
Oh… His mind whispered, becoming weak and helplessly weary. I want to know…so…much…but I…I..mmm tired and I can't …remember…
You can, Obi-Wan. Your past and our shared past isn't gone….I have it with me and you have it inside…we only have to overcome the barriers placed around them.
Tears soaked his consciousness. I can…find..them?
He was nearly pleading.
Yes…I believe we can. Because you are strong, Obi-Wan Kenobi. And I will be here to help you.
You…help?
Qui-Gon smiled. Always.
The response was timid, but was still there. O-O…Okay.
~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
Padme walked briskly at Anakin's side, stealing glances up at his stormy face as often as she could. He started to rush down the street when she was finally forced to stop him.
"Ani!"
He wheeled around, panic dawning in his dark blue eyes.
She tried to smile reassuringly. "Don't you remember? I have a few transport vehicles at my disposal. Or would you rather run to the hospital?"
He breathed out, a relieved grin following.
She took his large hand in hers and led him to the front desk.
Anakin felt the warmth and delicacy, mixed with strength, in her grip. As the clerk summoned Padme's driver, he pressed kisses on the crown of her head.
Padme drew that soft head back, staring up with glimmering brown eyes. "We're getting sloppy." She said quietly, lips turning upward.
He refrained from placing his mouth over that sweet smile, for the clerk had already returned, a uniformed man in tow.
"I guess we just can't help ourselves." He said slyly, near her ear.
Padme muffled a giggle behind her hand, resuming her almost regal posture when she walked to the sleek cloud car.
The pair slid into the back seat.
"Theed Hospital please, Dane."
The engine revved to life and they were zooming down the clean Naboo streets at a pleasant speed.
Padme turned to Anakin, laying her hand over his trembling fingers. "He's alright, Ani. There could be a million reasons why you can't feel him right now."
Anakin shook his head. Hurt radiated in his gaze. "No. He's always opened to me, even when we're at odds with each other. Qui-Gon wouldn't do this. There has to be…" An abrupt sickness roiled cold in his belly…And he knew why there was an emptiness in his mind, why the darkness was descending more rapidly where his Master's spirit had combat it before. "A reason." He finished dimly.
Padme patted his arm before studying the blurred scenery.
His hands raked on his knees. I knew it.
~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
The softness of Qui-Gon's spirit encompassed him, lifting him when he felt both heavy and dizzy from the impact of all that had happened.
…why?… He managed to wonder, bewilderment misting his weary thoughts.
Because you have been precious to me, Obi-Wan. To everyone that has had the chance to know you.
That ache returned to his heart, to hear of the person he had been, and the yesterdays torn from him. But, at the same time, he smiled. It was a comfort to know that this man still cared for him. …what…can bring…me…back?
We must go deep…far inside until we find what has been hidden away.
And you…stay…with…with me?
A smile. Yes.
They began to search, entwined through the Force, as it had always been, in the bygone days of their friendship.
Qui-Gon knew it was fate that they were together.
Despite everything, Obi-One felt that it was right.
And the Force seemed to sing its own confirmation.
~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
Anakin put his hands to his head.
"Nooo…" He drew out slowly, teeth gritting.
Padme's eyes were wide. "Ani, what is it? What do you hear?"
The car came to a stop at the hospital entrance, and the Padawan bolted through the doors, thin braid whipping behind him.
He stopped at the desk. "Where is Obi-Wan Kenobi's room?"
His voice brooked no argument, harsh and breathless. The volunteer girl hastened to check the long list. "Second floor, number 72."
And he was gone in a blur, leaving behind an open-mouthed youth.
Padme trotted in right after. Her mouth was pale from where the light lipstick was smeared from kisses, her usually stunning auburn hair in disarray.
The girl swallowed hard. "Senator Amid---"
"Where did he go?" She asked.
The baffled attendant told her, then watched as the famous politician ran down the hall.
~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
Qui-Gon led him along with soothing reassurance, his presence cradling and safe…
But then there was darkness. Coiling like a serpent, icy and angry. It began to pull them apart.
Obi-One panicked. His grip on the other man's aura loosened while this new, unwanted pall swirled around them. What….what iss…what is that?
No, Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon coaxed calmly. Stay with me. We'll get beyond that… In his own mind, however, he was worried. The walls around the Knight's memories shouldn't be mobile, shouldn't shift and threaten and spread…
Obi-One felt that darkness inside him, hateful, sour like bile…
And he cried out.
And he broke away.
~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
Mazella ran to her patient's side. He was whimpering and twisting in Qui-Gon's arms, sweat and tears rolling down his face.
"Obi-Wan!" She gasped. The doctor brought her slim, yellow-tinted hands to his temples to still him.
Anakin burst into the small room , eyes ablaze and narrowed. "Master!"
Mazella flipped her head to look at the wild entrance. Her face was flushed. "What---"
A sweep of his hand sent her flying into the wall. Anakin stalked forward and ripped Kenobi from his Master's arms. The pale figure was dropped on the slick, cold tile floor.
He grasped Qui-Gon's shoulders and shook him. "Master! Master!"
Padme stood in the doorway, palm over her mouth. She sank to the ground beside Obi-Wan . "Anakin! What are you doing?!"
The boy's face was dark as he stared down at Qui-Gon. The hate and jealousy burning for Kenobi was sizzling in his fingertips. "MASTER!"
Qui-Gon's head lolled back. His eyelids pulsed.
Anakin was lost somewhere between rage and worry, anger and fear; his hand was moving to slap the bearded, slack face…
When Mazella recovered from the shock of smashing into the steel, and stalked quickly forward, pulling a syringe of sedative from a layer of clothing…
Before he could make contact with the perspiring skin, Anakin felt the stab in the small of his back.
He crumpled to the floor, where Padme was sitting with Obi-Wan's head cradled in her arms.
Mazella touched her sore scalp gingerly. She was panting, more from surprise than exertion. The doctor went to Qui-Gon's side and hurriedly scanned the readout. "He seems to be alright." She breathed out, palm going to her chest. "Thank the gods. They're both mostly unaffected."
Padme moved her gaze from the unconscious Knight to Padawan. Tears were itching in the back of her eyes. "Ani." She murmured.
Mazella turned to the Senator. "What---was that?"
Padme blinked. She inhaled slowly, studying Anakin's lax features. "I…" She shook her head. "I don't know."
Mazella stared down at the mess a moment, hearing the desolation and confusion, somehow feeling the maelstrom. "I'm going to call the orderly." She said.
~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
Qui-Gon opened an eye, carefully, pain beating in his skull.
The lights were dim, creating the illusion of dusk in the windowless hospital room, though the unnatural saffron incandescence was still ugly and hot. There was the rustle of curtains and measured mechanical beeps in the background.
He sat up on his elbows, blinking. Across the quarters he saw another bed and rose to see if Obi-Wan had been harmed by the abrupt breach in their connection.
His steps were deliberately slow, feet touching softly on the tile floor.
When that strange darkness invaded the bound minds, Qui-Gon had been unsure of its source…And he still didn't know what malevolent force was behind it. He had faced uncertainty before, of course, but when it involved the safety of someone he loved, he couldn't tolerate it.
He would find out what--or who---had led to the severing of their rediscovered link.
The Master stood at Obi-Wan's bedside, looking down at the troubled visage, a frown surfacing on his own. The round, silver probes were still attached to the young forehead, and the thin tubes cast identical, dark shadows in a criss-crossing design.
Qui-Gon lifted his hand to stroke the combed-back hair. He wondered how much trust had been destroyed between them.
And when Obi-Wan woke, if he would even talk to him.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes against a sudden onslaught of helplessness. "Oh Force." He pressed his fist between his brows. He felt the childish urge to thrust the blame on someone, to have something to curse for their suffering, for Obi-Wan's startled withdrawal.
But phantoms were difficult to punish.
He laid his palm against the narrow chest. A calm heartbeat met his touch and Qui-Gon seceded.
"Rest, my Obi-Wan." He urged. The Knight's eyes peeked out from under smudged lids, and Qui-Gon glimpsed vibrant cerulean striped with emerald. He swallowed. "I could sense you there, through all the damned walls and murkiness…I know you're there, waiting for me to bring you back." He ran his fingers along a pallid cheek. "This---upset---won't stop me from helping you."
Obi-Wan moaned, pulling away in his sleep.
Qui-Gon took a step backward. "I'm just going to speak with the doctor." He watched the other Jedi begin to writhe in the sheets. He shuddered. "I won't be long."
~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
The graying Master entered the sterile hallway and immediately sensed his apprentice. The boy's Force presence was always distinct, a massive, burning flame that could engulf a mind if it were weak and untrained, not sufficiently prepared for the rush of sheer, raw energy Anakin wielded. But his signature was dampened beneath his usual stellar shields and…drugs?
Qui-Gon walked faster, striding into the room a few doors down from the still, quiet one he shared with Obi-Wan.
Anakin was tucked into a narrow hospital bed, Senator Amidala seated in a chair nearby, her hands folded and eyes trained on the sleeping youth.
"What's going on here?" Qui-Gon asked, not caring if his bold tone awakened his Padawan as he approached the sleepcouch.
Padme straightened. "I'm not sure, Master Jedi."
There was an absence of warmth in her sweet voice and Qui-Gon was forced to calm, to look at her instead of Anakin. "What do you mean you're not sure, Senator?" He questioned, not unkindly.
She sighed, wiping at her eyes, seemingly oblivious, or uncaring, of the now-smeared makeup streaking from just under her eyebrow to the side of her face. "Ani---Anakin said he couldn't feel you through your link and he was concerned for you. He didn't know why you would block him out."
Qui-Gon felt the heat start in his cheeks. I've been shutting him away from me. "It was necessary to block him in order to help Knight Kenobi…I should have told him."
Padme glanced at Anakin. "Yes, you should have." She agreed in a murmur. Then she gazed at him again. "He found you, and---stopped the doctor and he---he pulled Obi-Wan away from you."
Qui-Gon turned to face the wall, hands on his hips, as she continued.
"The doctor sedated him. She--She said Obi-Wan wasn't hurt."
Then she knows nothing. Qui-Gon sighed, standing above Anakin. The young man's face was peaceful, his lips pressed together and eyes moving beneath their coverings. He looked almost…innocent.
A mask.
Qui-Gon stared down at him, unashamed of his assessment. Shadow hovered around his focused countenance.
Padme stood and headed for the door. "I'll go check on Obi-Wan." She muttered.
She wasn't sure the Master noticed her departure. His eyes were lowered, sharp with pain.
The Senator made it halfway to her friend's room before tears began cascading down her cheeks, drowning her mascara in a cloudy river.
It seemed many were learning of Anakin Skywalker, and the frailties shrouded in his heart.
~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
Qui-Gon stood with his arms hanging heavy, proud shoulders slumped. His heart was an aching pit in his chest. "Anakin." He said, solid, strong hand hovering above the boy's muscled arm.
Anakin only breathed sharply in.
He extended two fingers, as though he were confronted by boiling acid rather than his own apprentice. This is Ani…I care about him… He touched the cool skin. "Anakin, wake up."
The Padawan jolted awake with a gasp. He looked around the room, cramped with unused machinery and smelling pungently medicinal. Then, clarity lifted the confused haze in his eyes. Anakin leaned back on his elbows. "Master?"
The name held a plethora of meanings and memories. It could be the title one addressed a strict superior with their head bowed in submission, or a word uttered around the smile of an awed and dedicated student…or, in those sweet, special cases, another way to say father.
But, Qui-Gon Jinn, Master for a generous amount of his life, was at a loss to understand just what the ancient moniker held for Anakin. He wanted to believe it was a sign of respect and friendly, maybe familial, devotion. Sometimes, he was almost certain it was tinged with affection. Others, it was begrudgingly mentioned, more from habit or duty than preference.
How he yearned to know the truth.
Returning from his brief inner battle, he attempting to smile, but he found he didn't have the motivation. Instead he pulled up the chair Padme vacated. His bulky frame wasn't comforted by the small, plastic seating; he was accustomed to it.
Letting a sigh pass through his lips, he spoke. "First of all, I need to apologize."
Anakin's eyes bore into him, intense but guarded. He nodded.
"Dr. Gale and I are trying to help O--Knight Kenobi reclaim his past. Berrel's wipe was quite---effective." A gruffness consumed his voice, ragged with unbridled hatred. "Dr. Gale thought that it would be wise to use the dormant bond between Knight Kenobi and me to communicate with him on a higher personal level."
Anakin had to swallow his objection, beckoning Qui-Gon to continue with a tight movement of his head.
"To do so, I needed to block myself from other Force-users…" His eyes were shining with regret. "I should have warned you, Padawan."
Anakin felt the anger blistering white-hot in his veins. But, he had taught himself well in the masquerade of indifference. None of that fierce hostility appeared on his face. "Its alright, Master."
Qui-Gon stood, pacing the room with frustration needling the base of his neck. "No, it's not alright, Anakin. Not at all."
The rapid beating in his chest echoed in Anakin's ears. "Why?"
A chuckle. "It was only a mild sedative. Surely it didn't affect you that badly."
Anakin swung his legs off the cot. "Master?"
Qui-Gon studied his worry visage and felt a stab of sorrow. "Ani," He started again, softer. "You must know what I'm talking about."
The eyes lowered.
"I don't blame you for being perturbed with me. I did shut off myself from you. I'm not the only one to have ever done so in this relationship, but nevertheless, I should have been more aware of your perspective during all this. You couldn't have known what was happening here." He laid a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "But that doesn't give you the right to barge in and just…destroy everything we were working at."
Anakin frowned. "But I---"
"You tell me what occurred. I want to hear it from you."
Anakin's jaw tensed. "When I realized you were gone from my mind, I was really worried, Master…Padme offered to take me to the hospital. I saw you with…Knight Kenobi and…" He squeezed his eyes shut. "I Force-pushed Dr. Gale and yanked Kenobi away. But I was unconscious before I could see what was the matter with you."
The older man huffed and turned from his charge. "Why did you feel you needed to invoke violence upon…innocent people to ensure my safety?"
Anakin flinched at the blunt description of his actions. "I--I don't know…"
"You must know, Anakin." Qui-Gon argued. "Such behavior can't be instinctive. I refuse to accept that."
The apprentice clawed absently at the bed linens, cheeks going a deep shade of scarlet. "I saw you and I didn't…I didn't understand what was going on. All I knew was that I couldn't sense you and Dr. Gale and Kenobi were in the way."
Qui-Gon faced him, arms folded across his chest. "So you thought that attacking two defenseless people was completely justifiable." He countered sardonically.
"I didn't attack them!" Anakin balked.
Qui-Gon stepped closer. "You gave Dr. Gale reason to sedate you and move you away from Knight Kenobi's room."
Say his name one more time and I'll… "She's just a girl and she was startled---"
"Just a girl?" Qui-Gon repeated, fuming. "She happens to be a woman in the top of her field. Would you refer to Senator Amidala in the same fashion?"
Anakin flushed darker. "I didn't mean it that way…I…That's not the point, Master. She didn't know who I was…"
"That's right. She didn't know who you were, Anakin. You could have been a deranged killer for all she knew. The correct manner of a Jedi Padawan, or any decent being, would have been to introduce yourself and ask for an explanation of my situation."
Anakin had nothing to debate there, and studied his booted feet.
"You frightened Knight Kenobi and he withdrew from the Force before we could accomplish anything. Now he's probably too wary to try again. And I have no idea if he'll even speak with me."
You're breaking my heart. "It's not as awful as all that, Master." He mumbled.
Qui-Gon was an inch from his face, outraged. His long hair dangled in his eyes. "Obi-Wan Kenobi's memory has been stolen. He has been robbed of his training, his experiences…his self. The most beautiful soul I have ever known is lost and blind and in turmoil…and his chance for salvation was taken." He pulled away from the shocked man and rubbed his rugged face wearily. "How do you think he can survive more heartache?"
Anakin looked at his Master glassily. Most beautiful soul…Oh Force… Bitter moisture fell to burn his flesh, unbidden. "I…"
Qui-Gon was at his side, arms like unyielding iron around the mournful figure. "You have disappointed me." He said into the sandy hair. "You reacted rashly. You shamed your station as a Padawan today."
A sob broke free of the taut mouth. His vision was burly with tears.
Callused fingers stroked the tipped head. "And, worse, you have put into jeopardy the future of an incredibly gifted Jedi Knight."
Anakin gripped the thick back. Stop…I can't stand it…He's NOTHING…
"You have knowingly hurt someone very dear to my heart. And in doing this, you touched the side of darkness."
Anakin pressed his forehead against Qui-Gon's neck. "No…Master…"
Qui-Gon braced the wet, red face. His gaze was piercing and cold. "YES. I sensed it, my Padawan. In my mind, in the Force, in the way Obi-Wan ripped away from me. You have lied to me. Don't lie to yourself."
Anakin sniffled, his full lips quivering uncontrollably. "No…"
"Damn it, Anakin! You're not a child! Own up to your mistakes or be ruled by them!" He nearly shouted.
"Alright…" The youth shuddered. "I…I felt the fringes of the Dark Side when I was…" He couldn't finish. He collapsed into gasping cries.
Qui-Gon placed a single kiss on the crown of his head. "You have admitted it. Now, I pray, we can move past it."
He stood and stalked from the room, leaving his Padawan to his self-made anguish.
And he couldn't forgive.
And he would never forget.
~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
Padme leaned against the steel doorframe, a curly chestnut strand resting against her cheekbone, wet from the tears that slid from her red-washed eyes.
Obi-Wan's face looked strained, his hands tangling tight in the sheets. His pallor was as bleached as the bed's dressings.
He was the same man who stormed forward into battle on Naboo so long ago, cerulean eyes intent, saber sparking an identical blue, body strong and compassion incredible.
The same lovely soul who sat at her side while she purged of her terrible, aged guilt, and wasn't afraid to admit his own faults.
This was the same man…but it was so difficult to believe it.
Padme hesitantly took the steps to stand at his side. The small, circular probes fastened to his crinkled forehead glinted silver in the half-light. The various monitors beeped softly, offering only an eerie break from the silence.
She sniffed, smoothing the stray hairs behind her ear. "Obi-Wan." She whispered, and touched the cap of silky ginger.
Padme thought of him being flung from the security of Qui-Gon's arms and hitting the floor.
Anakin not taking the split second to glance back at him.
Weeping, she took one of the gentle, sallow hands in hers, and brushed her lips against it.
"I'm sorry." She rasped, her free hand going to her heaving chest. "I'm so sorry." It moved down to her stomach, and it was then that the shadow crossed over her grim face.
She could feel some sort of energy inside her there, new…but it didn't belong to her.
"I love you, my friend." Padme swore. It fell from her lips far easier than when she told Anakin. It didn't feel as though she were giving away her spirit. It was a wonderful, comforting fact of her heart. "I will provide you anything you need to recover. Anything." She rubbed the side of his face. "You are one of the most precious friends I have. And I'm so, so sorry for what has happened."
Obi-Wan moaned.
She backed away, swallowing. There's no excuse for what I've done. I don't deserve his friendship anymore.
Taking one last stricken look at the sleeping Knight, Padme walked from the room.
~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
Qui-Gon saw her in the hallway and approached the Senator, features chiseled in a hard, sad expression. "Is he alright?"
She nodded, almost too ashamed to meet his eyes. "He's still asleep."
"Good." He sensed Anakin's remorse through their bond. He breathed out. "I apologize if I was sharp with you before. It's just---I'm very concerned for Obi-Wan."
"I understand." Padme smiled meekly. "I am, too. And for Ani."
There was a flicker in Qui-Gon's marginally serene exterior. "I'm finding that perhaps I have placed too much trust in my Padawan."
Padme's sculpted brow lowered. "You're very angry with him, aren't you?" She asked in a quiet voice.
Qui-Gon nodded, strong neck pivoting to catch a glimpse in his ex-apprentice's room. "Anakin is not behaving as a student of the Jedi Order should, milady. He employed his advanced skill to harm Dr. Gale and sheer violence to remove…to remove Obi-Wan from his path." He finished, hardly able to bring himself to repeat the confession. "He required something beyond the light of the Force to do so."
The young woman's eyes were wide and moist. "What? What do you mean?" Her hands had dropped to her sides, without her knowledge.
"He drew from the Dark Side."
The words were bare and harsh and held the pain of perceived failure. She wanted to give him the solace that she herself desperately wished for---but nothing could relieve the shock. "Is he still your Padawan?"
Qui-Gon inhaled. "Yes. This was a grievous incident, and it will take time to heal from it, but I would never abandon my protégé. Anakin is remarkably gifted, Senator. If I were to relinquish my responsibilities to him, it would be a dangerous decision indeed."
"How so?"
Qui-Gon had to wonder if he would ever learn to keep his mouth shut. "That kind of power, left half-trained and resentful, would be an enormous threat to the galaxy."
Padme felt her stomach churn. "But you can't think that Ani would be capable…" Her message drifted away inexplicably.
Qui-Gon touched her arm. "Anakin is a good person, milady. I have no doubt of that. He loves few, but that love is all-encompassing. He is also young. Impressionable." His tone grew more serious. "If he were to be led into the hands of someone…evil…"
"Stop." Padme shook her head. "I can't hear this."
"Because you love him." Qui-Gon said, without question. "I do also. But we cannot become delusional. Nobody is perfect. No one is above error."
Padme looked at him a second longer, then walked on.
Qui-Gon stared after her and considered the strange waves she was emanating through the Force.
~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
"Master Jinn."
Mazella Gale was standing at the end of the corridor. Her bruised temple gleamed an ugly purple.
He watched the doctor stride to him. "I'm sorry for what my Padawan has done, Miss Gale. He was…worried for me. I blocked him from my mind so that I could commune with Obi-Wan."
She quirked her lips in a semi-smile. "That has been gathered from Senator Amidala's explanation." She motioned at the opened door with her deep yellow hand. "Come, we can discuss further plans."
~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
Anakin rubbed at his eyes when he heard Padme's footsteps padding toward the room.
His tears had dried as soon as his Master left. The embarrassment had been genuine; he wasn't pleased that Qui-Gon had forced the truth from him.
But he wasn't in a hurry to repent for his supposed 'sins'. He would have done it again if it meant separating Kenobi from Qui-Gon.
Maybe his other efforts had failed, his next would not.
~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
Qui-Gon's hand rested on Obi-Wan's temple. Mazella stood at his broad shoulder and watched her patient whimper.
"He's been this way since…" He cleared his throat. "my apprentice's intrusion?"
"Yes. I had previously believed he wasn't affected. But now it's clear the episode has frightened him very badly."
Qui-Gon turned around. "He retreated from our connection. It will be…difficult to beckon him back to the depth we had reached."
Mazella nodded. "The good news is he is recovering well physically."
Qui-Gon glanced at the beloved face, oblivious in fitful sleep. The memory of the beautiful soul incased within caused him to smile even as tears spiked in the back of his eyes. "He has always been strong."
"And he will always be, Master Jinn. Of that I am certain. Some patients, when they are told of their great loss, can't move past it. They can't accept their current condition, and therefor cannot work to improve it."
He shook his head. "Obi-Wan must be shown that the darkness that repelled him doesn't have to touch him. Then, I sorely hope, he will put his faith in me again."
The young physician's violet eyes moved from the Master to his former apprentice. "There are technological means that can be of help. The process used in mind wiping has been research for a century. It has been deduced that, using some properties of what causes the wipe to be effective, sometimes the wipe can be reversed."
Qui-Gon's heart raced. Cold sweat broke onto his palms. "What?"
She looked up at his excited countenance. "It is a risky procedure, as the shock to his system would be major. I've been studying the details of his situation, since not all cases are found to be eligible, and I'm very confident he could be responsive. "
She saw the open joy in him, and begrudged the warning she was obligated to attach. "There is no guarantee this will be successful. But, if he benefits from it, his memory will return gradually. As you know, there is a sort of 'wall' placed around them. If the procedure works, that wall will begin to be broken down.
" He may become confused by the recollections as they're slowly replaced in his consciousness. They may only be small, insignificant bits, or an enormous milestone in his life."
Qui-Gon squeezed Obi-Wan's limp hand. "How long before he would remember…relationships? Would he recognize his former feelings toward people he knew?"
Mazella smiled amiably. "They would come back just as his other memories would. In time."
"I understand." He forced himself to gather a breath. "What were the risks you mentioned?"
"If the procedure is not performed with precision and patience, the patient could experience an overload. The wall would shatter without giving the patient a chance to register what has occurred. The mind would be overwhelmed, and could quite possibly shut itself down to stop the onslaught."
Qui-Gon's body tensed. "How often does this happen?"
"Rarely." She assured him. "But the possibility is there, and must be addressed. If he were to react as such, the trauma of the wall erupting, as well as the protective instinct of his mind, could leave him brain dead."
Qui-Gon's stomach lurched. Oh force…no… His grip loosened from Obi-Wan. "Brain dead?"
Dr. Gale nodded. "I will be heading the operation, Master Jinn. In the past, I have performed few of these, but never has this transpired. And if Obi-Wan is as resilient as you say, then I'm sure we won't encounter this problem.
"As the closest thing to a guardian, you are responsible for the decision."
Qui-Gon swallowed the thickness rising in his throat. His vision was suddenly burly.
Mazella squeezed his forearm. "When you have decided, contact me." She indicated the special call button beside Obi-Wan's bed. "Take as long as you need." She added softly.
Qui-Gon blinked. "Thank you, doctor." His comment was quiet and hoarse.
When the door slid closed, he slumped into a chair, lightheaded.
Obi-Wan cried out once more in the midst of his slumber, but the Master was too dizzied to hear.
My decision.
~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
"Hi."
Padme stood at the door, petite frame engulfed in the free space around her. Her hands were clasped together near the swell of her chest. The sophisticated flair of her dark clothing had vanished, leaving behind a woman searing with her loveliness, but accusing with the liquid russet pools gleaming melancholy in her gaze, and carrying the tenderness of adolescence beneath it all.
Anakin was entranced by her elegant perfection, while simultaneously worried by her reluctance to take the last few steps into the small room.
He had been sitting on the cot when her tremulous, wonderful voice permeated the buzzing silence. And he stood and smoothed the wrinkles from his leathery tunic, needing to appear to her as flawless as she appeared to him. Especially in the face of what she witnessed him do. "Hi." He reciprocated, lip curling in an experimental smile.
She didn't quite smile back. "I'm glad you're awake." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I was worried."
He felt his belly flutter in that juvenile reaction to knowing he was thought affectionately of.
It happened every time she uttered a word accompanied by a fleeting caress or buoyant laugh.
It reminded him, like a whisper warm and cloying in his ear, that she cared for him.
It reminded him of his importance.
Anakin loved to experience it. "I'm sorry." He told her, a little more morosely than his actual emotion.
And her face softened. She stepped fully into the room.
"Ani, why'd you do it?"
Anakin frowned. "Padme, I told you. I was concerned for my Master."
Padme sighed. "If that were the entire truth, why was your Master so upset?"
He pressed the two rows of his teeth together, until the twin bases of his jaw ached. "My Master has overblown this. You were there, Padme. You saw everything." He glared into the distance, as if it were Qui-Gon's leonine features staring back, instead of the bland white wall. "He was too busied with Knight Kenobi to know what was going on. He's always on Kenobi's side…It doesn't matter if I was only trying to protect him.
"Master interprets it as some huge catastrophe, when all I was doing was looking out for his wellbeing."
Padme felt a stirring around and inwardly. Hot, irritated, foreign. She had never felt it before. "I think he understands you were concerned for him, Ani. That's not what he's upset about.
"It's because---"
"The way I went about it." He finished caustically.
"Yeah." She confirmed, weaving her arms around her middle as if the space had grown cold.
Anakin snorted. "How would he HAVE LIKED me to go about it? Stroll into the room and ASK NICELY why my Master's mind is shielded from mine and he's lying unconscious on a bed with tubes coming out his forehead?!"
"I think---"
"Am I just supposed to IGNORE what's going on?"
Padme's mouth fell to a line. "What do you think is going on, Ani?" She queried, undaunted somehow by the furious red shining in his face.
"Kenobi is what's going on, Padme. He's always been a damn shadow over my apprenticeship, ever since he walked, or should I say stumbled, out of Qui-Gon's life.
"If he was such a worthy Jedi, and such a key to the Order, and 'the most beautiful soul' Qui-Gon's known," He spat with bald, sharp contempt, "Then why was Master so ready to throw him aside? Why would Master be so confident in me that he would take me away from my mother and my home to take Kenobi's place?
"Was it just some short-lived infatuation with my abilities that's chased away every DAMN TIME Kenobi happens to walk by, or be in Master's line of sight, or's even mentioned?"
Padme had to sit down. The ire of Anakin's speech was causing a smolder within herself, a dark haze of flame slashed across her senses… She put a hand to her forehead, leaning against it. "Obi-Wan was Qui-Gon's student for many years, Anakin. The events that led up to their parting were…extreme and devastating. You have to understand that Qui-Gon isn't going to forget the child he raised."
Anakin stood, chest heaving, hands cemented to his hips. He was silent for a time, eyes narrowing and moistening.
"…But is he forgetting me?" He wondered, in a shaky, small tone. The boy inhaled, and Padme could hear the rattle of coming sorrow. "I-Is he forgetting the Padawan he's STILL pledged to?"
And then he was consumed by horrible, hitching cries.
Padme found she could stand, bounding the short distance to embrace the only man she had allowed through the most intimate wings of her heart. "No, Ani." She told him fiercely, rough with her sympathy. "Never." Her fingers traced along the soft curve of his mournful head. Their cheeks met, their tears melding. She forced him to look at her.
"Qui-Gon loves you, Ani. I know it. And deep down, you know it."
Anakin swallowed a sob, focusing on her twinkling, bright eyes.
"And I love you too." She smiled. "Anything that makes either of us doubt that, we can work through.
"Because I believe in you. I know you are a good man, Anakin."
Padme Amidala pulled his chin forward, until their mouths were entwined, wet and pliant to the other's, as their hands moved and their arms followed, as his sadness and anger retreated…to wait, as it always had.
For the right moment.
This was not it. He grabbed fistfuls of her spirally locks, letting his hands disappear in the thick drape of silken hair.
Padme could sense his love for her. It wrapped around her, authentic and powerful and so, so intense…
Smothering…oh…around me…everywhere…
Thoughts of Obi-Wan Kenobi's distressed face drifted away to the gray sea far into her mind… And Anakin Skywalker was all she needed, all she hoped to have…all she would have…forever.
The Force swirled around the pair--but it was not a joyful shimmer that clung to their joined auras.
It was the knowledge of the future, bleak and destructive. And the sound of a trillion shrill, suffering screams.
~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
Qui-Gon sat in the chair beside Obi-Wan's bed, large frame crammed between impossibly thin, silver armrests.
Obi-Wan's unmeasured breaths sounded hollow and the towering Master was reminded of countless other vigils, in pristine medical facilities, where the floors gleamed so cleanly he could make out his own bedraggled reflection, or dank swamps, with a ceiling composed of deteriorating mesh cloth that sunk in the center, his wrist aching from swatting at invading insects who trespassed in greasy swarms.
Temple healers, specialists, old, decrepit doctors with crooked backs and rheumy eyes, stiff hands trembling as they reached toward the ill or injured youth…
Qui-Gon, always regarding them with a mixture of hope and hesitance. Did they comprehend the vivacious spirit of this boy? Would they work to conserve every last remnant of his radiance and strength as they labored, or were they mindless to his gifts, touch mechanical and mind on some emotionless auto-pilot?
He had encountered the kind, and it was his ever-watchful eye that may have prevented mishap, for he refused to leave his Obi-Wan to the tender mercies of a cold and unfeeling physician, his Obi-Wan who was helpless as he struggled inwardly…or lay beyond the realms of strength and lucidity, who waited for his mentor to guide him to the light once more.
And Qui-Gon would bring him back, even if on the verge of death himself…even during that barren winter of their friendship…when the quick-witted and loving boy was shoved away to the edge of Qui-Gon's heart…and it would take a stray blaster bolt, or potent chemical, or ruthless assailant to usher him near…even when Obi-Wan didn't know it…even when Qui-Gon wouldn't acknowledge it.
Qui-Gon smiled; giant, callused hands folded to absorb the abrupt, powerful fear that swept through his reminisces, finding they were tainted by the uncertainty of this moment…the thought that he could fail, that his choice was a falter…That Obi-Wan, with all the wounds inflicted over his short lifetime…would endure another.
This procedure could be a saving grace.
Or it could be the death of his Padawan.
Ex-Padawan! A voice in his head hurried to correct. He heard it---he just couldn't completely agree with it.
Because sometimes, when in the training arena with Anakin, the arrogance would drain from the child, and the brutal fight style would shift and change, and the conceit of those dark eyes would turn glitteringly luminous, and Qui-Gon would see Obi-Wan there, body and mind submerged in the rhythm of the kata, lost serenely in the majestic harmony of the Force, and the tired, aging man would feel his heavy soul lifted.
It were these days that he was strongly compelled to rush up the levels of the Temple, burst into Obi-Wan's lonely little apartment, and crash to his knees before his former apprentice, pleas for forgiveness falling from his mouth like a body being purged of venom.
But he would never do such a thing. No, Qui-Gon would stand where he always did, at a distance from Anakin, and monitor the boy's progress, and worry about the glimpses of snide egotism he would catch in that young, tan face, and lightly block his longings.
Anakin would sense the alter in his Master's Force presence, as Anakin sensed everything with that sharp attentiveness…
Did the boy know?
Is that what fueled his flying limbs when he crashed Obi-Wan into the ground?
Qui-Gon wasn't sure, couldn't be positive either way, but he shivered just the same, a low quake that wracked his bones.
Would Anakin interfere with the operation?
This was a different voice than earlier, inflection low and incredibly similar to his own…
But he couldn't hold such suspicion toward Ani, could he?
He had stood beside that child, from the time he was nothing but a sandy, smudged slave rushing along the hot Tatooine dunes. He had shared his home, his teachings, his life with Anakin for this small while.
Ani had grown under his tutelage.
How could Qui-Gon have missed the signs of darkness? Of ruined purity?
I haven't…He's made a mistake…Oh Force it was just once…
"Once." He murmured aloud, and glanced at Obi-Wan's waxen face, at the drying stain of tears beneath his closed eyes.
He heard the echoing remembrance of jealousy, thick in Anakin's words, so many times…
"Why does HE have to come and ruin everything?"
"What can HE do?"
" He'll screw things up---"
"So HE'S just gonna lay there while we work through the night?"
Anakin had been angered by Obi-Wan before today…he just didn't have the opportunity to act on it.
What would Anakin do if he informed of the risks involved in the procedure?
Would he…
Qui-Gon closed his eyes against the welling despair.
As he felt himself ripped in two.
~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
He floated up from the dense oblivion with its foggy burdens still holding tenuously to his sore mind, and it was too much to rise to full awareness so quickly.
Instead he rested in the soft balm between, thoughts gentle and fleeting if he attempted to focus more than loosely upon them.
He began to sink down into the comfort of sleep again…
"Obi-Wan."
Someone was calling him…And he mused frivolously that the name was odd…hmm…unusual….hmmmph..
"Obi-Wan, wake up now."
He dragged himself up from the weary depths…passed the burly levels until he came to coherence.
The air was bitingly septic, he winced from the unwelcome stench.
A rough-hewn palm stroked over his forehead. He wanted to smile, but the touch carried an unknown sourness, and he frowned.
"Come now, Obi-Wan. We need to talk."
The tone was both mild and insistent, summoning him with a very subdued shake of his shoulder.
Obi-One took a breath and wet his lips. "Wh-Why…?"
Qui-Gon slid another pillow under him. The younger man slouched into it, russet lashes still against his cheeks. His skin glowed with cool perspiration. Brown hair with sun-kissed tips lay limp, soaked with the sweat of his spent body.
Obi-One tried to turn onto his side and slip from the harsher atmosphere he woke to…when he remembered.
Being led by puissant fingers and a rumbling voice, that originated from outside, but could be felt at his very core.
His fears shushed and soothed by the steady presence of Qui-Gon.
The promise that the stifled memories would be freed…
And then the dark swallowing up the warmth, their connection fraying, as he pulled himself away, to protect himself from the intrusion.
Obi-One uttered a gasp, cringing at the horror's residue spreading black in his mind.
Qui-Gon squeezed a lamed shoulder in support. "It's alright." He said, close to whispering. "Do you remember…anything that happened?"
He scratched at his wrist…needed to scratch it until it was raw. "I…" And he was surprised to hear the accent lacing his response, "I remember feeling safe…" He lifted his head to where he sensed, for some inexplicable reason, the man's face was. "And you. You were with me."
Qui-Gon smiled, trailing the line of shadow along the other's temple down to his jaw, which was covered in ruddy stubble. "Yes."
Obi-One's expression was dismal, bittersweet. "Yes. And I was happy, be---because you told me we would find…my past." The ending was hushed.
"We still can, Obi-Wan." The grayed Master vowed. "We were---interrupted, but that doesn't mean the method is closed off to us. We can try it again."
Obi-One nodded slowly, head turning to the side, his chin tensed and the cleft there dark.
Qui-Gon's eyes remained on the troubled figure as he felt a visceral ache, a physical sadness.
"I want to be able…to remember." Obi-One confided, a morose smile touching his mouth, a crinkle linking his brows. "I…I want to know what I am. Who I am."
Qui-Gon's blunt fingers sought to smooth the afflicted lines marring the handsome, guileless face. "I know."
Obi-One nodded, sucking his lips in between his teeth to bottle a sob. "I know y-you've tried t' tell me. I appreciate that so much…"
"You've been the center of my world, Obi-Wan. I would never leave you to handle this on your own."
"I…want you to be happy. It's just…instinctive. I want to know why." He wiped at his eyes. "You're all I have, now, and I need to know why that is."
Qui-Gon paused in the deep, somber moment to laugh. "I was never all you had, Little One. You had friends everywhere you went. Even in the most strict environment, you could still charm your way into the hardest heart."
Obi-One sniffled, tears coursing without obstacle down his face.
"But, I was the lucky one who had the privilege to witness all the miracles you caused, to see the children who gaped up at you, with wide little eyes, gaping up at their savior." He grinned. "I was given the treasure of teaching you…
"And you showed me that our roles were easily, often, reversed." Qui-Gon's voice was fond with the images that presented themselves; Obi-Wan taking the fragile bird from his Master's massive hands, huddling it against the lulling beat of his chest; Obi-Wan barreling down the shortcut when his counterpart would have stayed to the path.
"You are greatly loved, Obi-Wan. That can never change."
A jerking cry escaped Obi-One, he pursed his lips firmly.
Qui-Gon rubbed his thumb along the track of warm tears. He stared into that miserable, exquisite visage…and felt moisture collect on his own lashes. "I will stand beside you, no matter the consequence. And so many others will. You've no idea how dear you are." Even before this awful thing, you didn't know. "To me, to the Jedi…You will never be alone, Obi-Wan."
Obi-One scrubbed at his swollen, red eyes. "I love you." He rasped. "I…don't understand why. I just do. A-And, it's all I can be sure of."
"Oh, my child." Qui-Gon murmured, settling on the edge of the bed and laying his cheek against the smooth forehead. "I love you too."
The Knight brought a tentative hand to Qui-Gon's neck, breathing shallowly. "I…want to remember." He said again, drained and utterly depressed.
Qui-Gon listened to the weak, quivering words.
He sat up and looked intently at his former protégé. "There could be another way."
~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~
The explanation was nearly identical to that of Mazella's, save for the pauses during which Qui-Gon would reassure his friend with a pat or added words of comfort. When he was finished, he waited, the Force flowing through him in mysterious waves. He could not since the outcome of their talk; he could not even gauge the reaction.
Obi-One sat back, cheeks flushed and barren eyes damp. "I-It could work?"
Qui-Gon's hand lay atop the clammy palm and fingers. His face was grave, but kind. "It could."
Obi-One took a gradual inhale, then nodded. "But its…brain surgery?"
"Not exactly. There wouldn't be any…" He shifted on the mattress and cleared his throat. "Cutting. But yes, it would deal with the brain."
"Oh." A pale hand carded through his hair nervously.
"I know it sounds…harrowing…"
"Terrifying." Obi-One said softly.
Qui-Gon sighed. The young man had always been reluctant to share his insecurities, or even doubts, for fear he would be shunned by revealed weaknesses. It was only when he sensed intense danger would he speak to his critical Master.
"I have a bad feeling about this."
He closed his eyes briefly, as if enduring a painful storm throughout his body. "If I didn't believe there was a good chance of this succeeding, I wouldn't have given it a second thought.
"Dr. Gale is universe-renowned for her skills."
Obi-One mustered a smile. "I trust you, Qui-Gon." He was motionless, but that natural radiance beat in him, the edges of his form a fair gold.
Qui-Gon could read the unsure tingle in the response. "This is your life, Obi-Wan. As much as you're a part of mine, this must ultimately be your judgement."
Obi-One bit at the inside flesh of his lip, spine rigid and naked toes clenched. He could feel the Master's eyes on him, though he had no way of knowing if it were more than an internal inkling.
He couldn't describe the stream of emotion that so often flowed throughout his soul, delivering these foresights, trickling into every surface, making each rugged patch smooth, carrying the frenzy of his worries away in its cool waves.
It was a startling sensation…but a comforting one, like communing with an intimate companion.
And, strangest of all, it reminded him of this caring man beside him.
If he could recover the years, have the precious days and hours returned to him, then surely he could recall why he sometimes predicted the words that would be released from another, why he was aware of footsteps when they were far away.
Why I want Qui-Gon to stay near me.
Why I know he'll protect me from the darkness.
By the time fresh tears were awash in his eyes, Obi-Wan knew his answer.
"I'll…do it."
~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~