A/N: this bit takes place after the events in the SW comic, issue #7. TLDR there is a horrible drought and Jabba's thugs are stealing water from all the farmers and Luke, who is all of like 8, goes off by himself at night to take some water back and gets caught. Then Ben tracks him down and kicks all sorts of bounty hunter ass with the Force and saves Luke, who conveniently gets knocked out and doesn't see his savor.

Also, I have no idea where this story is going but I love me some old Ben stewing in the desert in his guilt and sadness so I couldn't resist just giving this prompt a try.

He is dozing in the early morning light, still tired after the nights events. I'm out of practice, he thinks. Using the Force again after so long combined with the fear he'd felt for young Luke had left him shaking once the adrenalin had worn off. Then the walk home back to the Lars' had taken even longer than usual. Especially with the added burden of carrying the boy home. That wonderfully brave, foolish boy. His aunt and uncle should be finding him right about now.

"They did. He's safe now." a voice whispers.

"Good good," Obi Wan mumbles drawing his still dusty cloak tighter. It will be a few hours yet until the suns drive away the lingering chill of the night.

Then he feels a cool touch brush across his forehead.

He stills and slowly opens his eyes.

Padme's smiling face greets him as she brushes his too long hair back from his face.

"You did it. You saved him." he hears again, though her mouth remains shut, smiling softly still.

He gapes at her like a fish. His tired brain trying to process her reappearance. He doesn't want to move, worried that if he reaches out she'll disappear once more.

She pulls back her hand and giggles, sounding younger, more the girl than the fearsome Senator.
The cool touch reaches the edge of his robe and brushes over his hand.

"Thank you Obi Wan. Truly, I could not wish for a better friend."

"Padme…" he feels overwhelmed. All these years alone and now he cannot put two words together to greet an old friend.

To his embarrassment he feels tears start to well up. Carefully he turns his palm over and grasps the small luminescent hand.
"I'm sorry," he rasps out over the sudden lump in his throat. He's sorry for everything. For her death, for not seeing where Anakin was heading, for not watching over Luke better and-

and-

he's not sure why he feels so overwhelmed.

Lying in bed talking to ghosts certainly isn't what he'd consider normal but normal went out the window years ago. He's always had better control over his emotions than this. Maybe he really has cracked. If all it takes is seeing old friends to set him off.

Padme has both hands grasping his as he stares at her through the tears.
"Oh Obi Wan. How long has it been?"

he thinks she's asking how many years it's been since she died but before he can think back she continues,

"how many years have you been alone?"

Obi Wan snaps his mouth shut.

"There's no need to punish yourself like this." she reaches back up with one hand and brushes away his tears.

"Rest. I'll be back tomorrow" her voice whispers as he sinks back into sleep. "Sleep."

and with that he sinks back into darkness.