Thanks very much to continuing and new readers, and thanks especially to those who are able to take a minute to review. You make my day and help feed the Muse with your comments and creativity.

DarkFoxxx - I have no idea why so many authors love to torture poor Obi-Wan... for myself, I guess it's the potential for angst, a little h/c, and shirtless Ewan. Mostly the angst, though. And he gets off easier in this fic than the other one I'm working on, Unwelcome Houseguest - he's only minimally subjected to Anakin in this story; in the other one he has to LIVE with him. Torture, indeed. :D

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TPM Tatooine Rewrite: Through Glass

By: Syntyche

chapter twenty-six: the prodigal son is too late

Warm, soothing, forgiving, and healing, the comforting rays of the morning sun rising on Coruscant streamed unimpeded through the wide picture windows of the apartment within the Jedi Temple that Qui-Gon Jinn shared with his young apprentice Anakin Skywalker.

Qui-Gon stood near the common room window, eyes closed peacefully, feeling the caress of sunlight steal across his lined features as he simply enjoyed being alive. He was feeling better today than he had in many months, and he was determined not to let the morning slip away without looking in on his former Padawan. Anakin would be in class for awhile yet, and Qui-Gon had decided to use the time chatting with Obi-Wan in the Healer's Ward.

Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon sighed deeply as he considered the young Jedi. He was proud of Obi-Wan as the Padawan steadily continued his rapid recovery from the numerous injuries he had sustained on Tatooine during the unfortunate ordeal he had endured after being sold as a slave to a local moisture farmer; the moisture farmer's wife, Marjhan, had not been kind to Obi-Wan - to put it minimally - and it had been several days since Qui-Gon and Delian had rescued Obi-Wan before Qui-Gon had felt like he could allow even a small glimmer of hope that his then-Padawan would pull through.

Much to the relief of the Jedi, Obi-Wan did pull through, and his recovery was astounding even his dedicated team of Healers. Qui-Gon hadn't let a day go by since Obi-Wan's retrieval without telling the young man how proud he was of him, and though the initial rebuilding of their lapsed relationship had been slow, their friendship was now stronger than before, to Qui-Gon's immense satisfaction.

Frowning, Qui-Gon winced as something bumped into his side, just a quick jostle, but when he opened his eyes to glance down, there was nothing there.

Of course, it could be the twinge that he himself was still feeling now and then from his own injury: a lightsaber through the torso courtesy of an unknown Sith warrior. Qui-Gon stretched gingerly, feeling the sting lessen slowly. Deciding it was time to leave, he carefully collected his robe and palmed the door closed behind him.

Qui-Gon walked quietly to the Healer's Ward, the uncomfortable jostling returning and increasing suddenly – he may have to have a Healer look at his side while he was sitting with Obi-Wan, he realized. Qui-Gon pressed his elbow against his ribcage, hoping the firm pressure would ease his discomfort even a little, and quickened his pace through the deserted Temple corridors.

Tired and silent, Obi-Wan was sitting up in bed when the Jedi Master entered, a wan smile pasted across his pale face at the arrival of his visitor. The young Jedi looked exhausted, but he continued to heal and all visible reminders of his unfortunate extended stay on Tatooine had dissipated as the days passed. The mental scars were healing a little more slowly, but Obi-Wan tackled the diminishing setbacks head on with his normal wry smile and grace, and he no longer needed to be sedated to sleep comfortably.

Qui-Gon awkwardly settled himself in the well-worn chair next to Obi-Wan's bedside, smiling warmly at his former apprentice. "And how are you feeling this morning, young one?"

Obi-Wan's lips twisted thoughtfully as he considered the question, and he hesitantly raised his arms over his head in a careful stretch.

"A little sore," he reported pensively, "but all right. Better every day." He looked his old master over with critical grey eyes. "How about you, Master Qui-Gon? And how is Anakin progressing in his studies?"

"He's doing very well," Qui-Gon answered proudly, always eager to talk about his new Padawan. To have two such gifted padawans in a row was rare indeed, and he'd been blessed to have them. "Top of his class in Astrophysics, of course."

Obi-Wan nodded approvingly. "I had thought he would be. You did the right thing, Qui-Gon, bringing him to the Temple. It wouldn't have been safe to leave him behind in Mos Espa," he added, and the gravity in his tone made Qui-Gon realize that Obi-Wan had been thinking his words over very carefully, probably for some time.

"I know," Qui-Gon sighed, leaning to the side in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing in his side. "I couldn't just leave him behind, not after testing his midichlorian count. Though I am sorry for everything you had to go through to bring him here."

"It was the will of the Force," Obi-Wan quoted sagely, unperturbed by the reminder of his recent ordeal. "And look where it has brought us: you are now the Master of the Chosen One, and I … well, I will soon have my own assignments to carry out." The thought seemed to please the young Jedi as he leaned tiredly back against his multitude of pillows.

"Your Trials are approaching; soon you shall be a Jedi Knight," Qui-Gon affirmed warmly. "It's what you always wanted, young one."

"It is. And it wouldn't have been possible without you choosing me all of those years ago to be your Padawan-learner," Obi-Wan replied gratefully. "I'll never be able to thank you enough you for that, for taking the chance on training me."

Qui-Gon smiled affectionately. "You were worth every grey hair; I'm very proud of you."

"I shall always love you as a father," Obi-Wan murmured solemnly, grey eyes serious as he regarded his former Master.

"Really? And you thought you hated me after Tatooine," Qui-Gon teased, amused by the somewhat embarrassed flush that stole across Obi-Wan's thin face.

"You must admit I was under quite a lot of stress when you rescued me," Obi-Wan protested softly. "I didn't know what I was saying."

"Of course, of course," Qui-Gon soothed, laying a calming hand on Obi-Wan's arm to show no offense was taken. "I know that you didn't mean it." The bumping against Qui-Gon's side intensified, and Obi-Wan's expression grew worried.

"Qui-Gon?"

To his surprised dismay, Qui-Gon unexpectedly found that he couldn't speak, couldn't respond to the young Jedi – the jostling was now so distracting, it was pulling his thoughts away whether he wanted to focus or not …

"Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan said again, more insistently, and Qui-Gon closed his eyes, trying to focus on what Obi-Wan was saying …

… if he could just listen …

… and as he listened Obi-Wan's gentle and loving voice became a shrill scream:

"Qui-Gon!"

… if he could just focus …

… and when he opened his gritty eyes he realized abruptly that he was still aboard the Council ship on its way to Coruscant, sharing Obi-Wan's narrow bunk where he and Obi-Wan had both drifted into an uncomfortable slumber after Obi-Wan had nearly screamed himself hoarse the night before shouting his despair and hatred for his Master.

… if he could just think past the ache in his side …

… and he was horrified to discover that the bumping against his side he had been feeling was Obi-Wan shoved up against him, thrashing in blind terror as his darkly bruised face turned toward Qui-Gon, etched across with an expression of fear and horror as unseeing tears streamed down his windburned cheeks.

Qui-Gon's wistful dream, his subconscious longing for the return of his healthy, whole Padawan played out in his mind's eye while he slept uneasily, evaporated quickly as Obi-Wan, battered, tormented and locked in the throes of a nightmare so unlike the pleasant and wistful reverie Qui-Gon had been experiencing, wrenched away from him, panting and shouting nonsense words interspersed with Qui-Gon's name as he struggled against the terror that wound through his confused mind.

Remembering that he had the previous evening undone the restraints keeping Obi-Wan from struggling or unintentionally hurting himself, Qui-Gon reached out a long arm and grabbed his Padawan before Obi-Wan tumbled off the bunk in his barely-conscious flailing.

"Qui-Gon!" Obi-Wan gasped again, his arms grasping blindly for an anchor, "Qui-Gon!"

"I'm right here, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon raised his voice, still trying to soothe and calm, ignoring the unwanted moisture that streamed down his face. If only his dream could have been their reality – ! Not this horror where his once-calmly collected Padawan was locked into a fight for his very sanity.

"Obi-Wan, listen to me – stop, Obi-Wan!"

Wide and frightened eyes that looked so foreign on their owner clicked onto Qui-Gon's, frantic in their confusion and showing no signs of clarity in their clear depths.

"Qui-Gon, take me back!" his Padawan demanded. "You have to take me back!"

"Back?" Qui-Gon demanded, surprise easily surpassing his own confusion. "We're not going back, Obi-Wan – you need serious attention from the Healers – "

"No – she's waiting!" Obi-Wan panted, long ginger hair spilling into his eyes as he fought vehemently against Qui-Gon's loose grip, trying to rise. "I have to see her! I have to see her or someone else will suffer because she's waiting – please I have to go she's waiting!"

"Obi-Wan, calm down, there's no one here, no one is waiting," Qui-Gon placated tensely, wondering if his strongly worded mental suggestion to the Healer assigned to Obi-Wan on this trip was being received. So far, though, no welcome appearance of anyone bearing a sedative.

Obi-Wan's unfocused and terrified eyes shone with angry, confused tears. "Yes, she's waiting... the Lady," he whispered, "She's waiting for me. It's time."

Horror dawned across Qui-Gon's understanding as suddenly as the morning sun breaking the horizon. "No, Obi-Wan," he breathed achingly, "Oh, no, Obi-Wan."

Qui-Gon pulled his shuddering apprentice closer within the circle of his arms, wrapping Obi-Wan's thin and taunt figure carefully to his chest. "No, she won't hurt you anymore, Padawan, I promise."

"No," Obi-Wan moaned desolately, "I have to see her." He sounded so small and tired when he added, ashamed and fatigued, "I need her."

"No, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon repeated, forcing his tone to be gentle and not tremble under the strain of trying to be calm. Images were crowding into his mind as Obi-Wan spoke – one particular image above the others: the surprised shock on Marjhan's face when a lightsaber cut through her, ending her life; but not, it seemed, her hold over his apprentice.

"You won't see her again, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon couldn't keep the tremor from his voice this time. "She won't hurt you any more, I promise."

"No," Obi-Wan sobbed, his struggles slowly easing as his meager strength ebbed away. "I need her." He paused, then whispered painfully, "She loves me."

Qui-Gon's heart was breaking or someone had set off a seismic charge in his immediate vicinity; there was no other way to describe the shattering pain resounding through him – even being stabbed with a lightsaber didn't leave the echoing agony that he felt now at Obi-Wan's words, his twisted perspective on his continued torture at the hands of the woman Qui-Gon had killed.

"No, Obi-Wan, she didn't love you, Padawan … "

"She does," Obi-Wan insisted wearily, his breath hitching, his exhausted voice fading. "I know she does. She said it so many times… I know it …"

"Obi-Wan, look at what she did to you," Qui-Gon protested, unappreciated guilt gnawing at him as he waved at the dark bruising and mottled puncture marks along Obi-Wan's slender arms.

Obi-Wan shook his head stubbornly, his watery eyes shining. "She had to," he whispered, his explanation ringing with the conviction of truth. "I made her. I made her do these things because I wouldn't listen. I never listened … "

The Healer finally arrived, blinking sleepily, and Qui-Gon shot him a dirty look that was supposed to somehow assuage the heavy mantle of remorse that had settled over the Jedi Master. It didn't, and Qui-Gon's misery increased tenfold as the Healer gently ignored Obi-Wan's protests and administered a sedative that quickly had the young Jedi sliding back into a restless but heavy slumber.

"I think you should return to your room, Master Jinn," the Healer instructed – Qui-Gon hadn't yet caught his name despite the fact they'd been on the same ship for over a day now. Qui-Gon knew it wasn't just a suggestion and the guilt that had started to encroach on his mind grew as he wondered at the directive.

Was it possible the Council knew somehow that Qui-Gon had murdered Marjhan? The Jedi Master wasn't so foolish as to think there wouldn't be a reprimand or worse if the Jedi Council had found out what he'd done, and the horrifying thought struck him that maybe they would keep him from training Anakin if they learned the full extent of what had happened on Tatooine. He couldn't allow that to happen. He had been through so much to rescue Anakin!

Slow down. You're getting ahead of yourself.

Still, the Healer was eyeing him unpleasantly. "We'll be arriving on Coruscant very shortly, Master Jinn," the man said. "You should get your things together and assemble the other passengers if you would. I'll prepare Padawan Kenobi to be moved."

Qui-Gon nodded uncomfortably and set quickly about packing up the few things in his cabin and waking Delian and Anakin, while all the while his discomfort and apprehension grew, mixing with his dismayed revulsion over Obi-Wan's garbled words. The Living Force seemed so eerily silent in the face of his mounting worry, and Qui-Gon was not reassured when their vessel finally landed in the Temple hangar and he discovered a small group of very stern Council members awaiting their arrival along with the Healers who were being assigned to Obi-Wan.

They know.

But it wasn't until he saw the uncomprehending and immeasurable sadness in Yoda's large eyes as he held out a clawed hand for Qui-Gon's lightsaber that Qui-Gon's dread finally congealed in the pit of his stomach, and as he unclipped the weapon from his belt and handed it to the small Jedi he was grateful Obi-Wan had been sedated and didn't have to see this.

"Obi-Wan needs me," he whispered to his former master, kneeling unashamedly at the small Council member's level. "Anakin needs me."

"A Master who cannot control himself, they do not need," Yoda said gravely, meeting his eyes unflinchingly. "Much to discuss, we have."

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