Now that he was back in the Temple, it was expected for Obi-Wan to renew his studies. Though his teachers were sympathetic to Qui-Gon's condition, they still wanted Obi-Wan to come to class. When one teacher insisted for his attendance, Obi-Wan told her in a not-so-gentle way of where she could store her saber.

Obi-Wan knew he should make a better effort to not draw attention to himself. But he couldn't really bring himself to care about his studies.

He was on his knees, shoulders squared, breathing slowed. This would be his first real meditation session since he came back- since Dean came back. It was long overdue.

Obi-Wan couldn't be any real help to either Qui-Gon or Castiel if he was too busy fighting his own personality. Obi-Wan would've easily made a decision whether or not to tell Qui-Gon the truth. Dean, however, was making him hesitate.

Dean knew from experience that when people got involved, they got killed.

Obi-Wan knew from experience that hesitation in such decisions were just as bad.

Seesh, this was giving him a headache.

Obi-Wan took in a slow breath and commanded his heart to slow. His mind opened up to the Force and allowed it to wash over him as he dove into his own mind.

Immediately there were faces. Qui-Gon's, Bant's, Garen's. They floated aimlessly in his mind and each one was vivid and bright. There were other faces too, just as familiar and warm. Bobby's, Jo's, Ellen's. And it ached Obi-Wan's heart to ever believe he had forgotten them.

Then there was Sam.

Obi-Wan tried to think of his own relationship with his biological brother, Colin, and couldn't. It wasn't as if Obi-Wan didn't care for his brother, but he couldn't see himself going so far to selling his own soul for him.

Dean's relationship with Sam was something the Jedi preached against. A relationship so intense it could lead to the Darkside. Drive someone to murder, to madness. It drove Dean to hell.

Obi-Wan made a decision on that immediately. He tucked Sam's face away, always on the edge of his mind but not really. Sam was gone. He had to accept that.

Oddly enough, after that, it was quite easy to sort through his mind. Obi-Wan drove away Dean's borderline alcohol addiction, his gluttony, and if Obi-Wan found any, memories of Hell. There weren't many, most of them only flashes of red and pain. He couldn't afford any of those developing strong.

There was much of Dean he kept, though. His ability to talk to people, his charm, his charisma, his love for AC/DC.

Really. The music on Coruscant was awful.

The young Padawan took another breath. He came out of his meditation and opened his eyes.

He was ready.

()

As soon as Obi-Wan closed the door behind him, Bant was standing a little too close for comfort, her pink face taking up majority of his view.

When Bant didn't move or speak for a few seconds, Obi-Wan muttered softly, "Well, this is awkward."

Bant stepped back. "I heard you bad-mouthed Master Jonah."

Obi-Wan stepped around her and started walking towards the library. Bant followed suit. "She was being a little pushy. I didn't appreciate it."

"So you thought it was a good idea to tell her to stick her saber up her ass?"

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah, everyone is talking about it," Bant offered up. When Obi-Wan doesn't deny the accusation, she gaped at him. "Seriously, Obi? A simple no thank you wasn't sufficient enough?"

"Like I said, she was pushy. I pushed back."

Bant suddenly stepped in front of him, halting his steps. "What's wrong with you?"

"Bant-"

"Oh, don't you 'Bant' me!" The girl huffed. "You've been avoiding both me and Garen for the past two days. And when I do finally hear about you, you're cursing at Masters? Obi-Wan, I know it must be hard with Qui-Gon being hurt, but you've never pushed us away before. What happened?"

Obi-Wan is suddenly struck by the similarities of his friends. Bant glared at him, waiting to for an answer and it reminded Obi-Wan so much of Ellen, he had to pause to calm his heart. "Do you trust me?"

Bant blinked at him. "Of course. You know I do."

"I promise you, once this is all over, I'll give you the full story. But I need you to trust me. I know what I'm doing."

The Mon Calamari glared at him. "That's a cheap answer, Obi-Wan."

"I know," Obi-Wan smiled gently at her. He stepped aside her and Bant let him. She crossed her arms as she watched him walk down the hallway, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

()

Obi-Wan scowled deeply at the screen before him. He's been at the library for nearly three hours now and he had yet to find anything remotely relating to the Enochian sigils painted on the Temple walls. At this point, Obi-Wan stopped caring who or what painted them. He just wanted to know where they were so he could destroy them and allow Castiel to come in.

However, there was a reason why somebody wanted to keep angels out.

"Review, Obi-Wan," the Padawan hissed to himself. "Break it down. What are you missing?"

Castiel said the sigils have been here for a long time, possibly even before Obi-Wan was born.

"What does that mean?"

It means it was a Jedi who did it. Very rarely did the Temple allow outsiders inside its halls, and most of the time the visitors were refugees or politicians who needed their protection. Even then, they were monitored.

Not a Padawan then. Nor a Knight. It had to be of someone with high rank. A Master. Hell, maybe even a Council member.

Why, though? What was he/she trying to keep out?

"What was he trying to keep in?" Obi-Wan whispered to himself and leaned back into his monitor.

In the depths of the Temple, the Jedi have kept and guarded many secrets. Sith objects and torture devices were of common knowledge, though they make up less than ten percent of the inventory. There were also sacred objects, signed secret treaties, and pieces of jewelry that actually caused the deaths of over three million people.

Even if Obi-Wan had an idea what he was looking for, he had no way of knowing if the Jedi owned it. There were many, many files that demanded the consent of a Master and even a greater reason to actually go see the object with his own eyes.

Obi-Wan took a casual glance around the library. Nobody was paying attention to him.

Tap-tap tap-tap-tap. And just like that, Obi-Wan broke into the restricted section of the Jedi archives.

He had, maybe, five minutes of searching before someone inquired what the hell was going on. Less than that, maybe two.

Obi-Wan's fingers danced over the controls rapidly, bringing up images and shooting them down just as quick. He was looking for something that would have religious connotations. Something old, something very primitive. It had to be of human origin, possibly shrouded more in myth than fact.

One image popped up and Obi-Wan's fingers stopped abruptly. He blinked at it, trying to be sure what he was seeing wasn't of his own imagination. He couldn't believe it.

The Jedi had the Colt.

()

A/N: And isn't that the silliest line you've ever seen? Don't get me wrong, I love the Colt, but it goes up there with "And then Obi-Wan did an exorcism chant." XD

R/R, peeps!