Disclaimer: Still not mine :)

A/N: Big thanks to everyone who reviewed :) You know you keep me going.

Laura – He's tough, but… Not all that tough. Well, you'll see. He still swears, though ;)

I luv ewansmile – Here's some background for you ;)

Obi-Wan woke to find Qui-Gon's bed empty and a wave of panic rushed through him. He got it under control in a matter of seconds, of course. Noises from the kitchen. Of course. He entered, only to see a pale Qui-Gon determinately going about fixing his breakfast.

"I don't think you are strong enough to do that," Obi-Wan said tentatively, rubbing his eyes. He felt much more at peace this morning.

"I can manage."

"I could do that for you, you know."

"Obi-Wan," the Jedi said steadily. "I've been taking care of myself for long enough. I'm perfectly capable to decide if I have enough energy to prepare a breakfast."

"If Roan were here, you would be tucked up in bed with no thoughts of getting up, that much I can tell you." He gave him a hesitant smile.

"I'll be all right. Besides, I'd rather not subject myself to your cooking if I don't have too."

Obi-Wan's jaw hardened almost against his will, and he felt a stab of completely unwanted resentment. He raised his eyes to see Qui-Gon's smile rapidly fade.

"I was trying to make a joke, Obi-Wan," he said a tad sadly. "I didn't mean to imply…"

"No," Obi-Wan said miserably. "I'm sorry. I'm being edgy, I'm sorry."

"No. If I'm not allowed to say 'thank you', you are not allowed to apologize," Qui-Gon tried another small smile. "Fair enough?"

Obi-Wan nodded, relaxed. He had to try and act as a normal human being. For once.

He noticed Qui-Gon was opening different kitchen boxes, searching for something, and he suddenly felt a more genuine smile come to his lips.

"No caffeine products for convalescents, I'm afraid," Obi-Wan stated. "None for me, either. I think she hid the coffee somewhere."

"Typical. Oh, well. Let's go out and have the breakfast in the sun, what do you say?"

Longing in Qui-Gon's voice stirred something in him and he felt a surge of pity and anger: For how long did they hold him in those sith-damned dungeons? He tried and released the emotion, though.

"Fine," he said. "I just have to feed the animals first. You sit and eat." He paused. "You know, it's good to see you up and about, finally." It was difficult to say those words, although it shouldn't have been.

Qui-Gon nodded and averted his eyes. Obi-Wan hung his head. Was nothing he said at least acceptable?

- - - - - - -- - - - - -

Feeding the animals and cleaning up after them made him at peace, somehow. Any work did, basically. He turned to look at Qui-Gon, who was sitting on the low bench, leaning against the house wall, watching him, as he ate. The Jedi was still very pale, obviously, and looked disturbingly tired after the exertion of making the breakfast, but he looked much better than the last night. He seemed content, in a way.

"You're doing nicely with the goats, Obi-Wan," he smiled.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"Yeah. I would have made a fine career in the Agricultural Corpse, after all."

They shared an amused look for an instant, but then both looked away. It was too bloody awkward.

"I quite enjoy this kind of work these days," Obi-Wan said, not looking at the Jedi, but not wanting to lose the little he had gained (then reprimanded himself for thinking in those terms). "Housework. Simple stuff. Takes my mind off things."

"But not cooking?"

This time Obi-Wan knew it was gentle teasing, not some vicious offence of his… cooking abilities. He rolled his eyes at himself and wondered how he could have misinterpreted it so, the first time. It was very obvious that Qui-Gon too tried to uphold a normal conversation. That also tended to include some humour, among normal people. I'm such a difficult person, sometimes, Obi-Wan thought.

"No." He flashed a brief grin in the Jedi Master's direction. "Not the cooking, please. I can disarm a mine field, or pilot through an asteroid belt if I absolutely have to. But I seem completely unable to make a pair of edible scrambled eggs; let alone spinach."

"You've already changed that water," Qui-Gon said softly. Obi-Wan looked at the bucket in his hands.

"So I have… Um. I guess I'm a bit distracted."

"Why don't you come here and sit with me for a bit?"

"I guess that's just what I was trying to avoid all morning," Obi-Wan said apologetically. Than slapped himself mentally. Honesty was one thing; complete lack of tact totally another.

"You don't have to. I had just thought…"

He couldn't stand to see the disappointed look in his former Master's eyes. He never could.

"No!" Obi-Wan said forcefully. "You don't understand!"

"I think I do."

"You don't! It's…"

"…awkward, yes. You'd rather be at any other place than here, just to avoid the confrontation. It's all right, Obi-Wan."

"Why do you have to be so bloody understanding?"

Qui-Gon looked at him sadly.

"No!" Obi-Wan said, as the Jedi averted his eyes. "It's not what I meant to say at all!"

"I think it is, though."

"Well… perhaps it is. But I also mean to say a hundred other things! And nothing I say seems to come out right. It's just so… difficult. I wish you would… shout at me or something!"

"I couldn't possibly do that, Obi-Wan."

"What, because I'm bigger and stronger than you at the moment, and have a blaster!" He was angry. Oh how he was angry! But the rational part of him knew he was just concealing other feelings that way.

"No. I do not think you would hurt me, Obi-Wan."

"I wouldn't. Ever!"

Qui-Gon gave him a strange look, but Obi-Wan was unable to stop himself.

"How could you have thought I had come to kill you, back at the dungeons? I?"

"Oh, Obi-Wan…"

"Don't oh at me, I don't think I can stomach it. Whatever I am now, I'm not…" Than he stopped himself, slammed his walls shut, just fell silent. He was going to say I'm not Xanatos!, but that would just be so… unfair. Petty. Such a low blow.

Qui-Gon had read the thought, though.

"No, Obi-Wan, you are not him. I know that."

Obi-Wan looked aside. His policy had always been to look people square in the eyes and accept the consequences of his own actions – or words. But now he simply – couldn't. He reached out to the Force, desperately – and there it was. Fluttering, elusive, but he was able to catch it, surround himself in it, release his emotions – at least his most apparent emotions – into it. He sat silent for a time, and his former Master didn't say anything either.

Than he summoned the courage and raised his eyes to meet Qui-Gon's gaze. The older man's eyes were glittering with… tears?

"Qui-Gon," he said softly. "I'm being horribly and unforgivably unfair to you. And cruel. I… I don't want to, obviously, it just… I just do it. It's as if… I don't know what to do with the… emotions. All of them. Different emotions. Positive, negative… some in the middle. All mixed up. And… when I don't know what to do with them, they tend to turn into anger. I thought… I had the control over it. I usually do. Now… I don't. Too much for me, I guess. I don't know how to put it…"

"I understand."

"Yes. I guess. But… Oh, I shouldn't be putting you through this just now, I'm such an oaf to…"

"Please, Obi-Wan, don't act as if I'm made of glass."

"No. I don't think you are. I know you're not. It's just…I should just stop. But I can't leave off now, can I? It would only make it worse."

"Indeed it would."

"I… " Obi-Wan sat down on the ground, facing the Jedi-master, and hugged his knees. "I don't know what to say now. Besides that I'm sorry…"

"I've forbidden you to do that."

"Yes, I know there are no excuses for what I've said, Qui-Gon. Or done."

He was now looking at the ground, fighting his own tears. He had to control it.

He felt a hand on his chin, as Qui-Gon lifted his head up gently.

"Things you've done? Like, saved me from the living hell, Obi-Wan?"

"That's a… well, it's a…normal thing…"

"Look at me, Obi-Wan. That's right. I do not know you. I did when you were thirteen, and we parted the way we parted. Now you are twenty. I do not know you any more. So – why did you do it?"

"Took you out?"

"Yes."

Obi-Wan gave him a twisted smile through the tears.

"Well, I didn't want you to die, obviously."

"Doesn't seem that obvious to me, I must admit."

Oh, how that stung!

"No!" Qui-Gon said quickly, seeing the hurt in his eyes. "I didn't mean that you'd want me dead. It's just… I'd like to hear the story, Obi-Wan. I'd like to know your motives."

"What's there to know?"

"Could you tell me? Please?"

Obi-Wan nodded.

"Right. Well, I heard you were captured at that Force-forsaken Atarian planet, and decided to definitely go and find you, so I found out everything I could about…"

"No."

"No?"

"No. I want the story. Your story. Start at the beginning. Go slowly. It's the best way to talk this over, I think." Qui-Gon's eyes were very still, very unreadable – he was probably striving to keep them that way, Obi-Wan thought – but now a trickle of gentleness entered them. "Report, Obi-Wan," the Jedi Master said softly.

So – Obi Wan prepared to.

He closed his eyes yet again, felt the Force pulsing, breathed.

"You still use the Force."

It wasn't a question, and Obi-Wan felt a pang of guilt. He had told himself time and again that it would be stupid to reject the Force, cut himself from it… Like cutting off his own arm. Yet, he felt guilty.

His first impulse was to shot his former Master a defiant look, but he stopped himself. He won't start yet another pointless and meaningless fight.

"Yes," he said, looking down again. "To calm myself down. To find guidance, if I can. Sometimes it's there, sometimes it's not, but… When I can't find it, I feel lost. What was I supposed to do? You can't just… cut yourself from it. Can you?"

"No," the Jedi Master said quietly. "I suppose you can't."

"I don't use it to affect people. Or things. You know. Sometimes I need to lift something off someone, or to jump, and when there isn't time for anything else… I got to use it sometimes on the missions. I…"

"You do not need to defend yourself from me. I never said I disapproved."

"But you do, don't you?"

The Jedi studied him, and Obi-Wan studied him back.

"I'm not sure," Qui-Gon said finally. "What kind of missions?"

"Rescue missions. I work for Intergalactic Miners' Rescue Squad." he let a tingle of pride trickle into his voice. If there was one thing in the world he was sure about at this moment, it was his job.

Relief on Qui-Gon's face was obvious, and the man smiled. His thought was almost clear to Obi-Wan.

"You thought I was a bounty-hunter or something?" the young man asked.

Qui-Gon nodded reluctantly.

"You just seemed so…skilled."

Obi-Wan wondered if it was a compliment at all, but he gave a wintry smile nevertheless.

"Yes, I know how to do explosives and such. Blowing things up is in the job description, I'm afraid."

"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan. I should have guessed you wouldn't…"

"Nyah. I was at the verge of becoming a bounty-hunter, actually, so you're not much mistaken. But it just wasn't… for me."

"No."

"I realized I could use what I'd learned in better ways than that."

"Tell me. From the beginning."

"Oh, yes. Report." Obi-Wan smiled forlornly. "You see… When the… things… on Melida/Daan got out of control, I contacted the Temple, as you probably know. They sent master Adi Galia…" Their eyes locked, both of them very much aware that it hadn't been Qui-Gon who came. "It was for the better, I suppose," Obi-Wan added quickly. "She handled it masterfully. We… well, we sorted the things out as much as possible, together."

"She had told me how you conducted yourself. She also told me she asked you to come back with her."

"I couldn't." Obi-Wan rested his chin on his knees. "I had to stand by my decisions. I couldn't just… It was probably just pride, coming to think of it now, but I wanted to take the responsibility for my own actions, for once. With the consequences and everything. I had left the Path. I regretted it for a time, perhaps, but now I think it was the right decision to take."

"Do you?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan said firmly, and Qui-Gon just nodded. "Besides, there were still so many things to do on Melida/Daan. Doing things… well, perhaps it can't help you get over your grief, but it distracted me for a time. It's… it's a good feeling, in a way, knowing you are being useful.

"But, after the things started going more or less smoothly, I decided to leave. I couldn't stay there. Too many… Too many ghosts, I think. I couldn't bear it. So I ran away from them, basically, or tried. I left the planet…"

"And that's when we lost your trail," Qui-Gon said. "We… well, the Council tried to find you, check up on you. Because, you see…"

"I could be dangerous, as a strayed Force user?"

"I'm afraid so."

"I guessed as much. That's why I covered my trail so meticulously. Nield had taught me how to forge ID cards and whatnot, and I was very careful. Created a handful of handy identities, all that."

"And afterwards?"

"I traveled. I didn't have any money, so I did odd jobs, here and there. Dangerous stuff, mostly, but minor – the stuff that wasn't paid well, so no one but a desperate 14 year old would take the risk of trying to do them. The next two years are… hazy to me. But I learned a lot. I kept company with Jebediah A'Reli for a time, I guess you've heard of him."

"The gambler and the computer hacker?"

"Exactly. I learned a lot from him."

"He was arrested two years ago. He was a criminal, Obi-Wan."

"I know, and I know. But he wasn't a bad bloke nevertheless. And I didn't care much at the time, anyway. I had sunk pretty low."

"Oh, Obi-Wan. You used to be so…"

"Ethical? Idealistic? I remember, yes." His smile was twisted. "Not any more though, not that way. Back to the story. At that time I was more or less apprenticed to him – informally, obviously. I didn't care much about the gambling, but the hacking I considered useful. It was easy for me, too. I also improved my piloting skills considerably.

"Jeb and I parted our ways after somewhat more than a year – I was a pretty insufferable kid, at the time, I think. So… I ended up on Tatooine yet again. In the Mos Eisly Cantina. I frequented the place, actually."

"Mos Eisly Cantina? It's…"

"Horrible, yes. An ugly place. That's exactly why I went there, I suppose. I still did the odd jobs, but now I was older – fifteen, almost - and, well, quite resourceful, I suppose. I was decently paid, and I tried very much to be grown up, to save money, and to think what I was going to do with my life."

"Odd jobs?"

"Oh, you know the sort…"

"I can't say I do."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes slightly.

"Just… jobs, all right? Nothing openly criminal, but definitely shifty."

"I see."

"You see, I was… well, rebellious isn't quite the word. But I very much wanted to do everything that opposed my, well, my training."

Qui-Gon watched him sadly, but words were coming to Obi-Wan easier now. It was a relief of sorts to finally, well, tell it all. Openly, honestly, to confront it. He wanted to show Qui-Gon he took his own decisions, and that he didn't regret anything. And yet… the truth was that he wasn't at all happy about those years of his life.

"You're silent, Obi-Wan."

"I'm thinking."

"What about?"

"Well, frankly… About the fact that I'm not proud of those years at all… and yet, they had shaped me into what I'm now, and I think it didn't turn out so bad."

Qui-Gon said nothing, and Obi-Wan winced inwardly. Of course. How could the Jedi say anything positive to a shifty adventurer who used to hang out with the worst of the Galactic scum?

"Not all the people there were bad, you know," he said defiantly.

"No. There is no place where all the people are bad."

But those were empty words, Obi-Wan felt.

"I met some decent guys there, although they weren't law-abiding either," he continued deliberately, as if to dig himself even deeper in. Look at what I've become. Just look at me. I'm not going to conceal anything, you're bloody gonna hear it all. "Some of them I'm still friends with, actually. I know how far I can trust them, you know. They have their own twisted code of honour, and with them you can at least know where you stand. Anyway. Me and a couple of guys were almost caught during one action, so we had to leave.

"We went for the Outer Rim, found a job as guards with a pioneering company. Protected the settlers, such. Fought quite a lot. I learned all the time. They established a mine, but the risk was very high. I had some practical knowledge of explosives already, but now I studied the theory too, and had much, much more practice.

"I was somewhat over sixteen when I got entangled into yet another civil war. It was ugly. I could have left, but, somehow… I didn't."

Qui-Gon was very silent for a time, and Obi-Wan waited. He could see there was a question his former Master was reluctant to ask.

"Was it because you grew to love… the fighting, Obi-Wan?"

"To love the killing, you mean?" Obi-Wan looked him square in the eyes. "No. Never. I couldn't make myself leave, though. I felt there was something very wrong at work there. I – well, I researched as much as I could – I was just a guard, after all – but with help from some people, I found the rat. The company – the very company I was working for – had started the war. They produced weapons, and sold them to both sides. Stuff like that. I just… I thought I would burst! I don't remember being that angry ever in my life, Qui-Gon."

The Jedi nodded.

"So many people died, sith damn it! Friends of mine!" Obi-Wan continued, heating up.

"Easy, now. Did you expose the company?"

"No. I wanted to, but the system was completely corrupt. We were too far away from the Senate and stuff. Besides – who would have believed me? Me, the teenage scoundrel? I don't think so."

"Proofs are proofs, Obi-Wan."

"If legally obtained, yes. I found mine by slicing into their database. What was I supposed to do with that?"

"You could have called the Temple," said Qui-Gon quietly.

"And the Jedi would have done what exactly? Without the official invitation?" he said bitterly. "Interfere? The Jedi? I don't think so."

"Obi-Wan…"

"No, I was on my own. And I just couldn't let it go on that way. I had to do something."

"So what did you do?"

"Broke into the secret database. Destroyed the system. Took all the money they had made, too."

"You took the money?"

"I transferred it to charity!"

"You didn't keep anything to yourself?"

"The blood money?" Obi-Wan frowned. "Are you crazy? People had died. I could never…"

"And how was that money different from what you had earned previously? On your 'actions'." Qui-Gon said sternly.

"I never killed for it!"

Qui-Gon studied him.

"So, why do your deeds still torment you then?"

Obi-Wan swallowed and looked down. I have to tell it all.

"I blew up their base afterwards. It was completely unnecessary, just… revenge. A pure act of destruction." He paused. "It was awful. I had made evacuation calls beforehand, but not everyone made it out on time, apparently. And some people died. I… I can never forgive myself for that."

Qui-Gon was silent. That's right, Obi-Wan thought. Look at me and see me for what I am now. All of it.

"When I realized what I'd done – well, I had known what I was doing, obviously, but I still… woke up in a way, afterwards… Well, when I saw it all, I was completely lost. The Force had left me long ago…"

"The Force never leaves us."

"I had left it, if you like."

"What happened then?"

"I didn't know what to do with myself. I wanted to go and surrender to the justice, basically. But I realized it would be too easy. An easy way out, you might say, a way to just wash away my guilt… I wouldn't let myself do that. So, I… Well, basically, I had to find something to do, something… inherently good, I suppose. I was quick and resourceful and could keep a cool head. And knew how to do so many things. So I decided to make myself… useful, at last."

"That was… a worthwhile decision."

"It was the only thing I could do. So, I found the job with the Rescue Squadron. I volunteered for the most dangerous missions, the hopeless ones. I sort of hoped I'd just 'die trying', I suppose."

"That would have been an easy way out too."

"Yes, I'm aware of that. I didn't die, though. I succeeded in my 'hopeless' missions, most of the time. It's… The Force came back to me, in a way, then. Not always when I wanted it, but I could feel it guiding me, sort of. I started to meditate again. I started to rediscover my peace. It was… a good feeling."

"How old were you at the time?"

"Almost eighteen."

Qui-Gon's eyes were immensely sad.

"You were so… young."

"I don't feel young."

"You are barely twenty, Obi-Wan. Are you even aware how very young that is? Things… shouldn't have happened that way"

The Jedi Master pitied him, and Obi-Wan wanted that least of all.

"Things didn't happen to me. I did them, all right? I'm responsible for every time I screwed up, for every shit I got myself into. And I take that responsibility." Hi stiffened his jaw.

"Yes," Qui-Gon said softly. "I can see that." He paused. "So you worked for the Rescue Squadron for… two years?"

"I still do. I left my sergeant-at-arms in charge, but the place is waiting for me when I get back."

"Your sergeant-at-arms?" Qui-Gon said sharply. He looked caught off guard.

"Um, yes. I advanced, sort of. I didn't want to at first, I didn't want to take the responsibility for anyone but myself, ever again. But afterwards I realized this was… an immature attitude. If you know what I mean. And they did their best to convince me to accept, too."

He saw a small smile creep over Qui-Gon's lips.

"So, how did they convince you?"

Obi-Wan returned the smile hesitantly.

"They pointed out I kept taking charge anyway, whenever the situation got perilous. And it was perilous 90 percent of the time."

"And the men followed you." That wasn't a question.

Obi-Wan nodded.

"So – I advanced. Now I have my own squadron, the special squadron – I trained them. I… they call us 'The Hopeless Squad'. We always volunteer for the most hazardous actions. A fine bunch of desperate men, we are, but… It's not a bad life. I'm used to the danger, sort of. Besides, I know I'm doing the right thing, at last. It can't be wrong to rescue people."

"You did always have the rescuing people thing."

Obi-Wan nodded, unsure what to make of this.

"So, that's it, basically." He paused, studied Qui-Gon's hollow cheeks, tired eyes. "What do you say we leave off, for now? You look horribly spent, Qui-Gon. You're not ready for this kind of things yet. I'm sor…"

"No apologizing, remember? I'm… glad you told me these things, Obi-Wan."

"I'm glad you listened. I'll carry you to your bed now, shall I?"

"Just help me up, please. I can walk. But – there is still a large portion of the story to tell."

Obi-Wan nodded. Indeed, there was. The most difficult part, too. Up until now, he was able to avoid talking about Qui-Gon, and what had happened between them, and – worst of all – Obi-Wan's own emotions. He would have to reveal that too, though. Qui-Gon would want to know. He had the right to, too.