Where Release is Reciprocated

It took a while for Obi-Wan to realize he wasn't dreaming. It was becoming increasingly difficult to tell the difference between dreaming and waking; his mind had to do something to protect itself since it couldn't touch the Force and dreams had been its answer. So to find himself in a gurney of the Halls of Healing did not surprise him. At first he simply enjoyed the escape; Anakin was there as he usually was in his dreams. They would talk and then Ventress would do something to wake him and the torture would begin anew.

What made him doubt that this was a dream was how he felt. Even in sleep, the hardness of the floor translated to the dream, as did the injuries. The pain he could never escape from and yet now he felt very little. The gurney was soft, he felt himself sink into its depths. There was no ache from the broken bones, no spasms from the maggots eating through his muscle tissue. He felt... good. Or at least, not in pain.

The second thing that made him wonder was Anakin himself. They young man was always awake in his dreams, calmly listening to whatever confession Obi-Wan's mind deemed important at the time. This Anakin, however, was vaguely sitting at the foot of his gurney, splayed out over the bed in sleep and insanely using Obi-Wan's legs as a pillow. Obi-Wan was forced to admit he was too courteous to conjure up such an image.

Tentatively, he twitched his legs, just to see what would happen.

Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't Anakin jolting upright with such force he overbalanced his chair and fell out of his line of sight to the floor. There was an almost melodious sound of varied attempts to get up before Anakin's head crested the edge of the gurney, face tight with tension and worry so deep Obi-Wan could feel it through the bond.

The bond!

This was, in fact, reality then. The realization sprung memories in his mind: the burst pipe, the lightsaber on a pedestal, the flight, the fight, and Anakin's tumultuous, overbearing, beautiful presence. Obi-Wan internally smiled. To his Padawan, he put on a stern face.

"Oh come now, surely I don't look that bad," he said in disparaging tones.

Anakin blinked. Repeatedly.

Obi-Wan felt inclined to raise an eyebrow. "Don't tell me that in my absence you've somehow miraculously learned to keep your tongue in check."

Something finally triggered in the young man, Obi-Wan was suddenly overwhelmed with RELIEF that wasn't his flood his mind, and Anakin finally decided to reply: "Don't you ever worry me like that again!"

"Oh, yes, the next time an AT-AT decides to blow up from under me I'll be sure to - urk!" Obi-Wan's wit was cut short with a bone-crunching hug from his Padawan. Perhaps a little tentatively, he raised a free hand and patted it on Anakin's back. The relief and gratitude pouring through the bond was warm and comforting and Anakin's positive feelings lulled him back to sleep.

The next time he woke up, he was quicker to pick out that it wasn't a dream. Bant was there and the Mon Calamori, like Anakin before, crushed him into a hug, gushing platitudes and bits of information like Garen and Siri were coming to see him. Anakin was there, too, and his mirth at Obi-Wan's discomfort rung loud in his ears. It was after several similar experiences that Obi-Wan was able to decide that he had escaped, and the torture with Ventress was now but a dream - a nightmare - that could at last be put to bed.

When Yoda arrived Obi-Wan knew it was time to report on what happened. The aged Master held up a hand at first, instead hopping onto the gurney and sitting at his elbow. "Spoke of a mask, young Skywalker did," he said slowly. "In your fever dreams, figure prominently it did. Caused you great pain. Wish to know what it was, I do."

"Where is your precious light now, Kenobi? See if you can find it."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes to the memory, fighting off a shudder. Meditate. He needed to meditate.

"Shouldn't you let him meditate first?" Anakin demanded. "He's been through a horrible experience, shouldn't he have more time to recover?"

That was sweet, but unnecessary. He wasn't a Jedi if he shrank away from the difficult questions.

"It's alright, Anakin," Obi-Wan said softly, opening his eyes. The frustration quailed against the bond, and it prickled his brain. "And stop broadcasting your feelings," he added, bringing a hand to his temple. "You're negative emotions are giving me a headache."

Instant worry. Regret. Quiet concern. At least it wasn't as loud. He'd have to work on the boy's shielding. He'd mastered it years ago, why did it need revisiting? Later, later. Yoda had asked a question. What was it again? The mask, Anakin silently supplied. That earned a glare with a pouting no eavesdropping through the link. To Yoda he turned his gaze.

"Perhaps it would be best if I start at the beginning," he said slowly, "and with another Master present so this can double as my report. Forgive me, Master Yoda, but I'd rather not willingly relive this again unless it's to release it to the Force." Yoda nodded slowly, his eyes shifting back and forth between him and his Padawan. Mace Windu was quickly summoned and Obi-Wan mentally winced at what was to follow.

"Anakin, you don't need to be here for-"

"Yes, Maser, I do." A cocky grin. "You certainly not going to cry on Mace's shoulder."

Why, oh why was it always in front of the Council? He glared at his Padawan who glared right back. It was a battle of will over the bond, and Obi-Wan had to admit he just didn't have the strength for it. He felt hollow victory over the bond, and for the first time, he looked at Anakin directly. Bonds shouldn't be able to express feelings that subtle and complicated.

Later, everything was later. Why couldn't he focus?

Sighing, he locked eyes with Mace and Yoda and explained what had been done to him over the last few months. It was grueling. Yoda and Mace asked few questions, only prompting when necessary, but still Obi-Wan had great trouble focusing. A word or thought would send him skittering off to a memory that was all too recent and all too real; phantom pain would cascade over his body and no amount of deep breathing or centering could wash it away. Of all things, he would feel a less-than-subtle tug from Anakin and he would be back on his gurney staring blankly at his Masters. Flushing with embarrassment, he would mutter a soft apology and start again. Frustration at himself mounted, he couldn't understand why focus was so difficult; he was a master of Soresu, a sword style that required deep concentration over extended periods of time. Then a muscle would twitch and he'd be back in his lightless cell with Ventress standing over him, caressing his shrinking muscles before holding a red lightsaber and digging it into his...

Anakin tugged again, and he was once again back in at the Temple.

"Master, you're not ready for this. You should take a rest."

"I'm fine, Anakin," he murmured, rubbing his face. Force, why was this so difficult?

Yoda, still sitting at his elbow, placed a tiny, clawed hand on his shoulder. "Hurt you have been, on many levels. To purge these feelings, time it will take. Worry, you should not."

They took it up again, and then the worst of it came: the mask. It was a Sith creation, and as Yoda expressed, this is what they needed the most knowledge on. He tried to describe what it was like, the feeling of the Force being muddy, clouded, filled with stench. Then, too, to describe his trying to touch it, and the pain that electrocuted along his synapses and feelings that it was dark, that he was polluting himself, that working on that water pipe felt like he was violating himself, his principals just to escape... The memories flooded over him, and even Anakin's insistent tugging could not pull him back from that horrible sensation. The shackles were weighing him down, his muscles were burning fire, fever was threatening to overtake him and still he had to keep going; he had to find Alpha, to get away from this place, to-

"Master!"

Obi-Wan startled, realizing he was dreaming, and shook his head, trying to fight off the memory. Did he touch the dark side in order to escape? Was he tainted, now, too? Irrevocably changed from the light that he so desperately clung to? The Force, would it hurt to use it again? He was too afraid to-

"Master!"

A hand slapped across his face and finally, finally, he was back to reality. This was reality, right? His thoughts scattered everywhere, and he blinked, trying to remember where he was. Mace and Yoda were here, right? He saw their faces, gauging, assessing. Yes, he had been giving his report. Right? Anakin was there, too, staring at him, shaking his shoulders saying something...

"You're not dark, damn it!" he was hissing. Colorful curses were intermingling his speech. "It was all that stupid krayt dragon poodoo mask, it had nothing to do with you! There's nobody else in this nerf-fucking galaxy that is as light as you - even Yoda! And yes, I know he's here and I don't care because you need to understand-"

"Enough," Yoda said softly, placing a gentle hand on his Padawan. "Brought him back, you have; need to speak further, you have not." The slits of his overlarge eyes turned to Obi-Wan, the Jedi still confused at what was going on. "Truth, your Padawan speaks. With the light, you still are."

Obi-Wan felt his eyes water. He could not understand why.

"I... I'm sorry, Masters," he mumbled, looking down, suddenly ashamed. "I... It's very hard to focus."

Yoda's course voice sounded soft. "Natural it is, when great pain one suffers. Blame yourself you should not. Time will help." A green hand passed into Obi-Wan's vision, and he watched it be placed on his shoulder, above the firm grip that Anakin still held. The touch... it felt good; it grounded him, he knew this at least was real. He pinched his eyes closed and rubbed them, savoring the moment.

"You have told us more than enough for the time being," Mace said. The imposing Jedi had his arms crossed in front of him, his face as stern and unyielding as ever, but there was a... softness in his voice that suggested compassion. "Your escape has already been reported by Alpha Seventeen and your recovery by young Skywalker. Any further details can be collected at a later date. For now, we will leave you to regain your strength." The tall master turned, his arms loosening to re-clasp behind his back, and he strode out of the room. He paused at the door, though, before turning slightly. "And Master Kenobi," he added.

"Yes?"

"Welcome back."

When Obi-Wan next woke up it was not of his own volition. He felt something, a pain that he at first thought was all too familiar but very slowly he realized it wasn't his own. The subtleties were different, the triggers similar but not the same. Bleary and still not completely conscious, he opened his eyes to see that it was night at the Temple. City nightlight streamed into the small room, a dull glow that left large shadows that were too similar to the darkness of his cell that he thought perhaps he was dreaming again. Obi-Wan dutifully reminded himself that he really had escaped and that this was real, but the fog of his brain and the surrealism of feeling someone else's pain made him wonder, and finally he gave up and decided it wasn't important. The Force decided that he needed to see it; the hows and wherefores were unimportant.

Dimly, he was aware of sniffling. Blinking slowly, he turned a little on his pillow to see a shadow sitting by him, hunched over itself and shuddering.

Ah, that could only be his Padawan.

"... What's wrong?" he asked, though it seemed to take an eternity to form the question.

Anakin startled, looking up; the dim light highlighted his tear tracks. "Master?" he asked. "They gave you sedatives, why are you awake?"

Sedatives, was that why everything was so hazy? Never mind, not important.

Obi-Wan reached out with a weak hand. Anakin quickly took it. "You're hurting," he said slowly. "What's wrong?"

His tall Padawan made a noise between a sob and a laugh. "It's nothing, Master; you should be focusing on yourself first."

Such selfless words from Anakin? It must be serious indeed. Obi-Wan squeezed the hand in his. "I want to help," he said slowly, feeling as if his words might be slurred; he couldn't quite tell.

His bond was flooded with feelings: admiration of his master, love for his master, frustration at stubbornness, stubbornness in it's own right, irritation that he was awake, self-loathing at recent events, and a host of others that Obi-Wan was too tired or too drugged to identify. The last one, however, burrowed into his mind and made him frown. A picture of a Tusken, massaging a heart with the Force, faces of Padawans in the rain. Obi-Wan didn't understand much of it (really, all of it) but he did understand that Anakin had had a rough time without him. Sluggishly - Obi-Wan wasn't sure if it was half a memory or half a dream - he accepted the pain Anakin was feeling and tried to release it to the Force for his Padawan. The youth was too consumed with his emotions to do it, and he wanted to help as he had been helped, though it was a feeling he could not attach a genesis for. The emotions seemed to dilute, because of Anakin or because of himself he wasn't sure. He thought he heard a gasp, and the hand in his suddenly tightened.

"Master, you shouldn't be doing this, you're not recovered enough..."

"Want to help," Obi-Wan murmured, his voice suddenly sounding far away.

More pain: grief over people dying all around him; everyone was dying and he could do nothing to save them. Regret that he wasn't powerful enough to do anything to help. Desperate desire to get stronger so he could help. Obi-Wan channeled it out. A monument to fallen Jedi, blown up wreckage of an AT-AT in a humid jungle, another dying apprentice, whispering names to moths to remember the dead, whispering "Obi-Wan Kenobi" to a moth and understanding that he would never see his master again.

... Never see someone again?

Never see...

"You will never see your precious Jedi again. Not that old fool Yoda, not Windu, not even your precious Padawan Skywalker. But you can be rest assured that they will all follow you in death. I'll make sure Skywalker is fist. What I do to him will be much worse than what I'm doing to you."

Obi-Wan's eyes snapped open, adrenaline pumping into his system and fighting off the sedatives. Anakin! Where was Anakin? Was Ventress torturing him too?

"Master! Master, she never touched me, I'm right here, I'm fine; I'm fine!" Anakin was hissing in his ear, holding him down. Presence was swirling along the bond, and Obi-Wan sunk into the presence, feeling it, stroking it, hugging it for it meant Anakin was alive and that everything was as it should be and that he would be okay.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his head pressed against the crook of Anakin's neck as the tall young man held him. They both shuddered.

"You can help me all you want," Anakin said softly, "When I know you're well enough to handle it. Not before."

Obi-Wan fell asleep in his arms.

Author's Notes: Oh, the drama! The last three chapters have been pretty heavy, even with the shots of humor we've injected we hope it's adequately balanced; the emotions are so heavy there were times I felt a little buried in this chapter; it took almost a week to write because of it. Star Wars is nothing if not a soap opera.

We should probably note that we know nothing of Jabiim or Rattatak or any of the goings on that we're actually talking about. We point guiltily at wookiepedia and cross our fingers that we're doing the original source material credit. Just because we're tweaking here and there doesn't mean that other events don't happen exactly as they were originally meant to, and so we once again hope we're doing okay. Given the extremes that Obi-Wan was put through, it's very (very, very) tempting to just spend chapters and chapters on Obi-angst, going into abject detail of his torture in his flashbacks. We actually feel that this would be a detriment. Why try to describe what's happening when reader imagination can and will be much more creative? And so we decided to only keep it to simple dialogue lines, or phantom pains and what they represent. We hope the effect works.

The repercussions of what Anakin did the previous chapter are already starting to show, though Obi-Wan is too out of it to notice and Anakin probably doesn't even realize what's happening. Poor Obi-Wan, he can never think of himself, can he? We felt it very important that Obi-Wan at least try to mimic what Anakin did (though he's in no shape to do it). It becomes important later as they start to realize what's happened to them.

For those of you commenting about Obi-Wan not being able to touch the Force, that was a simple fear that Anakin had in the overwhelming realization of everything that had Obi-Wan had been through. Obi can touch the Force. There is nothing in the original source material (wookiepedia) to suggest that he couldn't after his terrible time under Ventress.

Some of you have some sharp eyes and have spotted at least part of what happened last chapter that was so important! If you haven't, you'll see as Obi-Wan and Anakin discover things.

Next week: Even stuck in the Halls of Healing and barely able to do anything without help, his Master can still be the most irritating being in the galaxy. At least Anakin gets to see Padme.