Author: TemporaryUniverse
WC: 3,391 (10,675 Total)

TW: more torture, it's not too graphic, though. Also, Sidious being Sidious which is definitely its own warning. You can expect that one for the rest of the fic.

With nothing better to do and yet an urge to be productive, Obi-Wan began cleaning up the apartment. The destroyed furniture, he piled up in the corner. The shards of plates, bowls, and pots were tossed down the trash chute, and the dirt from the overturned plants swept off the floor. Most of the plants were unsalvageable, having been spilled from their pots and gone unwatered for the past few months. Their leaves disintegrated when he touched them. But there was one that had survived, only a chip on the rim of its pot. Qui-Gon's alparas plant. Qui-Gon had gotten it long before he met him, in fact, it was probably older than Obi-Wan. It was a small, roundish thing, with the most gorgeous silvery green leaves that tinged a deep purple-red around the edges. It was supposed to have stunningly beautiful, burgundy flowers, but Obi-Wan had never seen them. The alparas only bloomed once every hundred years. Most of the leaves were dry and wilted, but the stem was still green. It had held on, barely, despite no one being around to care for it.

Obi-Wan righted the pot, setting it back up on the windowsill and gently packing the dirt back in. He grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and gave it a thorough watering. When he'd first begun his apprenticeship with Qui-Gon, he hadn't been very good at plant care. He'd watched Qui-Gon tend to them with a loving, expert hand, knowing when each one needed watering, or pruning, or a bigger pot, helping them thrive. And he'd watched the plants respond to his Master, the Living Force thrumming vibrantly each morning as Qui-Gon made his rounds.

It had been a kind of meditation for his Master, but Obi-Wan hadn't truly understood until after Naboo. He'd gotten rid of some of the plants, donating them to the various gardens or some of Qui-Gon's friends, but he'd kept a few and had done his best to keep them alive. Taking care of Qui-Gon's plants had given him a connection to his Master, and it was during those mornings when he felt closest to him.

Now this alparas was all that was left of them.

He fingered the chip on the pot, the grief welling up thick and fast. He and this plant were alike in this regard. Lone survivors.

He closed his eyes and reached out with his senses, and the life force of the alparas pulsed in his mind. Fragile and faded, but stubbornly hanging on.

"Obi-Wan."

His heart jumped and he spun around, wide eyes darting about the apartment. It was empty.

"Hello?"

There was no answer, but he was certain that he had heard his Master's voice.

He glanced back at the plant and then took one more look around the vacant room. Unsettled, he returned to his cleaning.

It took much shorter than he liked to have the place liveable again. He was still without most of his furniture, but his guards had at least let a droid come in to take out all the destroyed stuff. He stood there for a moment, trying to think of something else to do and coming up blank.

He sighed and sat down on the rug, pretty much the only thing that had been left untouched, his legs out in front of him because his prostheses were too bulky and inflexible to let him sit cross-legged. There was an old stain next to him and he fingered it, trying to remember where it came from. He thought it was perhaps where Ahsoka had spilled her caf, when she once fell asleep with the mug in her hand.

Ahsoka.

There was a slim chance that her non-Jedi status had saved her during the Purge, that her clone troops had not turned on her, but it was probably wishful thinking on Obi-Wan's part. Their bond had gone silent, like she had simply vanished in the Force. Her loss hurt. As mature and capable as she had been, she was still so young. She had left the Order only to get dragged back into war, when she should have been far away, carving out her new life and seeing what the galaxy had to offer. And now she was most likely dead.

Obi-Wan had failed her in more ways than one. Their last conversation had been one of sharp tones and barbed words, and he regretted it deeply.

He had avoided thinking about it up until now, but being back in these rooms brought forth all the memories and all the grief that came with them.

He needed to meditate.

Closing his eyes, he reached for the Force and turned his focus inwards. He'd learned his lesson about turning outwards, that way only led to Darkness and the pain of emptiness where there should be Light. But he could always find the Light at the core of himself.

Sometime later, he opened his eyes, to find Cody entering, bringing him his meal.

"Thank you, Cody."

"Yes, sir," Cody replied, going to stand by the door while Obi-Wan ate.

It was nothing special, just plain rations like the ones they had on the Vigilance. Obi-Wan hadn't had real food since his last time in the Temple, before he'd left for Utapau. He'd gotten used to rations though, so it wasn't that much different from the war, and Cody had at least gotten him his favorite type.

Unfortunately, he had very little in the way of food in his quarters, most of it had spoiled and he hadn't had much to begin with, given how often he was gone for months at a time.

He ate with little enthusiasm, and Cody took the empty tray when he was finished, carrying it off somewhere.

Obi-Wan groaned and got up, moving to prepare himself for bed. It wasn't like he had anything better to do. When Cody came back, he helped Obi-Wan detach his prostheses. It had gotten easier with how often they had to do it, and now it only took a few minutes. Obi-Wan thanked Cody and lay down, feeling the ache in his legs start up. Phantom pain, 2-1B-95 had called it. His brain attempting to interpret the missing sensory input. It was uncomfortable, but not as unbearable as it had once been, and he knew it would fade soon.

Cody left him alone and he lay there, thoughts churning. He hadn't allowed himself to think about the Jedi during his recovery, it had been the only way he could keep himself going, but here in this place, he couldn't escape it anymore.

The Jedi, the Order he had given his heart and soul to, his family, were dead. Every last one of them, betrayed and murdered. They had been so close to freedom, so close to ending the war, to getting back to what they were supposed to be. Peacekeepers, diplomats, scholars. The war had ended, but they had lost anyway. The trap had been laid so elegantly, so inescapably, the Jedi maneuvered like dejarik pieces on a board. The lies, Sidious' lies, slipping a noose around them that they couldn't see until it was too late. There had been no winning the war, but they had dared to hope for just a moment, and it had been snatched from them.

And his Padawan had been the one to do it.

When he finally slept, he dreamed of Anakin. Anakin smiling at him, laughing, his eyes shifting from twinkling blue to vengeful yellow. Obi-Wan watched as he cut down a terrified youngling and he ran. Ran towards his brother, desperate to stop him as he killed another Jedi, and another, and another.

"No!" He screamed. "Anakin, please!"

Anakin turned to him, and Obi-Wan stumbled at the rage and hatred on his face. Their lightsabers clashed and the heat rose around them, lava and sparks spitting on their tunics, leaving tiny burns on their skin.

"You will not stop me, Obi-Wan," Anakin snarled. And then a burning blade slid into his gut, and he woke screaming.

"Sir!" Cody said, standing over him.

Obi-Wan panted, trying to catch his breath and keep his tears in check.

"Cody?" He gasped out.

"You were screaming, sir."

"I'm sorry. I'm alright now. Just a nightmare."

The Cody from before Utapau would have given him an unimpressed look and prodded at him until he admitted the truth. This Cody just nodded and left.

Obi-Wan thudded his head against his pillow and brought his hand up to cover his eyes.

He still didn't know what Sidious had done to the clones to make them so… empty. Obedient. Cody still called him "Sir," but there was no familiarity behind it. No indication of the years they had spent fighting together, the friendship forged in the fire of battle and the hint of something that they'd been waiting until the end of the war to do anything about. It hurt, to see his Commander turned into someone with less personality than a droid.

He had tried to provoke some spark of the old Cody, his loyalty, his compassion, his tenacity… but it was useless. He could not find even a hint of his friend hidden somewhere deep.

There was nothing Obi-Wan could do to save him.

They brought him to a room deep within the Temple. The only thing in it was a sinister looking device, some sort of upright table with a collection of attachments and restraints welded to its surface. There was no doubt what it would be used for. It certainly looked like a device used to torture people. Obi-Wan was not looking forward to this.

His clone guards pushed him against it and strapped him down with the metal cuffs that were far too tight. The edges cut into his wrists and he pulled on them, testing the strength. They were sturdy. If he wanted to get free he would have to use the Force.

Not that he would get very far.

He took a deep breath and centered himself, mentally preparing for what was to come.

Sidious didn't show up right away, but Obi-Wan wasn't bothered by the waiting, although he was fairly sure it was supposed to be an intimidation tactic. It might have worked on someone who didn't have the patience of a Jedi Master.

"Hello, Obi-Wan."

He raised an eyebrow, staring down the gleaming, yellow eyes.

"I don't know what you're expecting from this, Sidious. Pain won't change my mind. As long as the Force is with me, I am a Jedi. I turn to the Light. The Dark cannot sway me."

He watched a slow, cruel smile split the Sith's expression.

"Then you have not known true pain."

Obi-Wan had been tortured before, for information, for political advantage, for another's amusement. He was no stranger to pain. The past few weeks had demonstrated that Sidious was an expert at causing it, but he knew he was capable of withstanding whatever the Sith threw at him.

"And I suppose you're going to be the one to teach me?"

"With pleasure."

And with that, it began.

He only stopped screaming when his voice gave out.

There was no reprieve, no chance to catch his breath or even form a thought beyond the need to escape from the agony that consumed him. There was just suffering.

Through it all, Sidious wove silky, seductive words into the pain. Obi-Wan shut him out, refusing to even listen to the Sith's attempt at persuasion. All his focus went into keeping himself from begging, he was not going to give Sidious that satisfaction.

His resolve didn't waver, even when the pain somehow got worse.

It took him a minute to realize the torture had ended. His body trembled as he gasped for air, his heart pounding loud in his ears.

A cold hand touched his cheek and he flinched because even that hurt, somehow.

"Had enough yet?"

"Why? Is that all you have?" Obi-Wan rasped, not even bothering to open his eyes. His voice was barely above a whisper and it scratched his throat as he spoke.

"Such bravado. One would think you liked the pain, Obi-Wan." The hand was still on his cheek, making his skin crawl. He shook it off and Sidious let him. "Shall we go again?"

He didn't wait for an answer and Obi-Wan had only a split second before the pain hit him again.

He lost track of how long it went on for, but it felt like an eternity. He was left hanging on to consciousness by a thread.

There was something sharp needling into his head and he frowned, trying to pull away. He realized what was happening just in time to throw his shields up, as impenetrable as he could make them, and felt the pressure increase. He gritted his teeth, feeling his shields buckle under the strain. But he didn't let them fall.

At last, the Sith gave up on his mental assault, his presence retreating, but Obi-Wan kept his shields strong, not trusting it.

"Take him back to his room," Sidious said. "We try again tomorrow."

The troopers let him down and dragged him out. He was mostly aware by the time they made it back to his quarters, enough to stumble along on his own two feet at least.

He exhaled shakily once he was alone, running a trembling hand over his face. He was exhausted, mentally and physically, and everything still ached. At least Sidious hadn't made him recite lines of the Sith Code again.

He checked on the alparas, gratified to find that some of the wilted leaves had perked back to life. For the first time in months, a genuine smile lifted his expression. It felt foreign on his face.

"Thank you, Master," he whispered. He knew his Master wasn't there to hear him but he hoped the sentiment reached whatever essence was left of him in the Force. This little plant was a miracle and the last tangible thing he had of Qui-Gon.

The soil was still damp so he left it alone and went instead to his bedroom. Lying down with his braces still on was uncomfortable, the metal was bulky and even though it was padded, the back of it still pressed on his spine right above where sensation ended. He'd gotten used to it though, like so much else, and he desperately needed to rest.

He closed his eyes, slowly relaxing his body muscle by muscle, the exercise giving him a meditation anchor that he used to wrap himself in serenity.

"Obi-wan."

He jerked out of his half-trance, blinking around the small room with his heart pounding. Perhaps he'd gone mad, to start hearing his Master's voice in the silence.

When nothing else happened, he lay back down and attempted to settle back into his meditation.

"Obi-Wan."

Obi-wan clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the voice. But he couldn't stop from curiously reaching out with the Force, just to see if he was imagining things. Searching for any hint of his Master's presence.

He found it.

"Padawan, I know you can hear me. Stop ignoring me."

Thirteen years of apprenticeship had trained him to respond to that tone.

"You aren't real. You're a voice in my head, just another of Sidious' machinations. That or I've finally cracked." Maybe he wasn't withstanding the torture as well as he had thought. Maybe he hadn't been able to keep Sidious out of his head.

"You haven't gone mad. It is really me," Qui-Gon's voice said.

"Impossible. Qui-gon Jinn is dead." He had held his Master in his arms and heard his last breath, felt their bond break and his life force slip away. He had watched his body burn on a pyre. He had known he would never again hear his voice, never feel his hand on his shoulder, never see his eyes crinkle as he smiled. Qui-Gon was dead.

"Indeed, I am. But I exist within the Force as, well, I suppose a ghost is as good of a descriptor as any."

"Ghosts aren't real." Once someone joined the Force, there was nothing left of them as a person. There was no consciousness after death.

"Through the Force all things are possible." Qui-Gon sounded amused now, likely because he knew he was winning their discussion. It wasn't like Obi-Wan could argue against one of the most basic tenants of the Jedi.

"Alright then. Tell me something only you—only Qui-Gon," he corrected himself, "—Would know."

"I was at your Knighting."

"How…?" His mind spun because the thing he remembered most about his Knighting Ceremony was the longing for his Master to be there.

"As a Knight, I spent a time studying with the Guardians of the Whills. I learned from them how to maintain consciousness after death, part of the Force yet distinct in it, as I appear to you now," Qui-Gon explained. "I didn't have the strength to manifest myself yet, but I watched as Master Yoda cut your braid. I'm fairly certain he felt my presence for a moment. He spoke to me."

"What… what did he say?" And why had Yoda been able to feel Qui-Gon, but Obi-Wan hadn't?

"'Trained him well, you have, despite his stubbornness. Ready, he was, for Knighthood. But a Padawan, unreasonable, it is, for you to have placed this burden upon him. Ready, he is not.'"

Obi-wan buried his head in his hands, his eyes burning.

"Obi-wan?" Qui-Gon asked after he remained silent.

"He was right," Obi-Wan said, hoarse and quiet. "I wasn't ready."

"You did well."

"I failed! And now look what has happened. The Sith rule the galaxy. The Jedi are gone. And A-anakin—" He broke off in a sob. Would saying his name ever not be painful?

"You are not to blame. The student's faults lie not with the teacher, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said gently, and then a bit more stern, "Or do you blame me for Xanatos' failings? Or Yoda, for Dooku's?"

"I… No. Of course not." He had never once thought Xanatos' Fall was Qui-Gon's fault, though he knew Qui-Gon had for a long time, and Obi-Wan had seen what it did to him.

"Then why do you not give yourself the same consideration?"

Obi-Wan had no answer for him. He knew Qui-Gon was right, but it didn't lessen the guilt any. He still felt as though he could have done something different, some lesson he could have imparted, or praise he could have given, or fears he could have eased. Anything that could have saved his Padawan from his fate. By the end of the war, he had known that Anakin didn't trust him, not like he once did. He had known his Padawan had secrets, things he didn't feel like he could share with Obi-Wan, but he hadn't pushed, thinking Anakin would come to him when he was ready. In hindsight, it was so easy to see his many mistakes.

"Anakin made his choice. Do not take that away from him," Qui-Gon said. And if Obi-Wan had been a better Master, or friend, brother, father, whatever Anakin needed… maybe he would have made a better one. Qui-Gon's voice softened. "You have to forgive yourself, Obi-Wan, or Sidious will use it against you."

Obi-Wan barked out a bitter laugh. "Easy for you to say, Master. It took you a decade to get over Xanatos. I've had two months."

"Padawan—" Qui-Gon's tone was firm and Obi-Wan cut him off, irritation spiking in him because why couldn't he let Obi-Wan have his guilt? He was the one who made Obi-Wan promise.

He didn't even know who was angry at, anymore. Qui-Gon. Sidious. Anakin. Himself.

"Xanatos didn't murder the entire Jedi Order." The words scraped painfully at him as they left his lips, and he knew from the moment of quiet that they hurt Qui-Gon too.

"The scale of the crime does not lessen the betrayal," Qui-Gon said finally.

"I'll let you know when I actually believe that," Obi-Wan snorted. "Now, I'm done talking to you. Leave me alone." He turned his face to the wall, even though there was nothing to turn away from, and heard Qui-Gon sigh.

"Obi-Wan…" Obi-Wan continued to ignore him, until eventually, his presence faded away. Only then did he allow his tears to fall.

A.N. Canon says that it took ten years before Obi-Wan first saw Qui-Gon's Force Ghost? Well, screw that. If you need an in universe reason for the difference, though, this Obi-Wan hasn't cut himself off from the Force in the same way that canon Obi-Wan did. He's still got a lot of guilt and betrayal to work through, luckily Qui-Gon is there to help.

Also, I wrote about this plant and then got attached, help. Obi-Wan got attached, too. *insert Rosa Diaz meme*

Thanks for reading!