Abril: I would like to apologize for two things. First, the length of this chapter, it's a monster I know it. I considered chopping it into two but it really does feel like one big ass chapter so I decided to keep it as it is. And second, apologize to those who enjoy these kinds of monsters cause I don't think it's happening a second time XD this was a fluke (fucking hopefully).

I hope you enjoy a chapter about… absolutely nothing happening…

When they land on Caveerpel, Red's eyes are underlined by dark shadows. Despite how much the boy sleeps it never seems to be restful enough. He's tried, he needs rest, and it's not one he can get while Jango and him are in such close proximity or while they dock on random planets for supplies and jobs.

The little rural planet is sparsely populated, with an atmosphere almost perfect for most humanoids but with a component in the air that makes everyone but the natives lightheaded from extended exposure. Reason why, despite its lush green plains and generally amiable weather, the planet has remained mostly unbothered by big corporations. It's the perfect place for one to spend a couple of days in without any repercussions, and say, perhaps do some interesting activities to alleviate the mind, like meditating?

That is, if he can convince Red out of the ship.

The entry ramp lowers down and in comes the fresh humid air from outside. According to the ship's barometer, the day will get hot later on, but perhaps not unbearably so. Obi-wan stands beside him, body taut with tension. Jango looks down at him and nudges him gently.

"There's no one around for miles," The Mando says, but Red only nods quietly, looking outside at the grassy plains and odd trees here and there like the scenery will bite him. "What's wrong kid? I thought it was the crowds you didn't like."

"I don't know, I thought so too," the ginger says quietly. "It's… like my body itches at the idea of going out… It's not like I don't want to. I've been cooped up in here for ages. I am sick of it."

Jango purses his lips and nods in understanding.

"I thought you could get away from me for a while," he gestures out with his head. "Get some peace of mind, maybe you could try to… meditate here." The man says after a beat.

Obi-wan turns to him with slight surprise and then a shy grateful look. He crouches after a moment close to the edge of the ramp, the cool breeze brushing at them. The teen puts his hand out of the ramp and touches the blades of grass with the gentleness one would give sentient creatures. His eyes are closed as he breathes in; a shudder runs through the boy's frame and when he opens his eyes again they are slightly glossy. He smiles.

"It's so alive here," he says almost reverently.

The Mando can tell the kid knows this. Can probably feel it through his weird connection to the Force. He knows by looking at the redhead's open expression that he's made the right call coming here.

"Go on then," Jango insists, "it's all yours for a couple of days."

The teen stands, taking a deep streeading breath, and finally walks down the ramp. When his feet make contact with the grass though, his back tenses and his fists ball at his sides. Jango suppresses the sigh that's building up inside him, being with the kid has been a true exercise in patience and it'll continue to be so. He's about to reassure Red yet again, or say whatever he needs to to get the kid more comfortable with the idea of going out, but the teen speaks first.

"You wont… you wont leave without me though, right?" Obi-wan asks quietly, not turning to look at the other.

Jango feels a surge of righteous anger shock through him and he marches down to the grass until he's standing right in front of the teen. The ginger looks mortified at his own words and at the Mando so ready to confront him on them.

"Red," he places his hands roughly on the teens shoulders, making sure the boy is looking at him and not acknowledging the instinctual little flinch. "I'm not going anywhere, I'm going to be on this ship, and it's not going to move. You can come find me anytime you want. Is that clear?"

Obi-wan nods several times, his face hot with embarrassment.

"Good," he pats him on the back and watches as the kid walks hesitantly onto the plains.

·~·~·~·

Just as he promised, Jango stays on the ship going through his daily routine but with the added bonus of fresh air running through the vessel. He takes advantage of being docked and opens up the outer panels of The Fury to do a couple of checkups. Later he could take a walk around and stretch his legs, maybe run a couple of laps- which are impossible to do aboard ship in any satisfactory manner.

Once he's rummaging through the innards of The Fury he can see the kid in the distance; cross legged or on his knees, he can't tell this far away witht the grass. The boy stays perfectly still. He hopes the distance between him and Jango's intense precenes, as Obi-wan has put it, is enough to give the kid the respite he needs.

As the Mandalorian takes a peek at the hyperdrive he catches the figure of the boy flopping down from the corner of his eye. Jango turns to stare directly at the spot where Red had been swallowed by the grass. He sighs at himself after a while and throws his wrench into the tool box. He knows Obi-wan is not his responsibility, at least not in this way, this is Jetii stuff, kriffing osik for all he cares, but gods if he can't help but go to him and try to help. As he walks towards the teen he hopes his presence wont make things worse.

He reaches the kid, Jango's frame towering over him, Red has his arms over his face while he pulls a little at his hair. The man sits down beside him. Carefully he pries the fingers open and away from the teen's locks. He doesn't actually know what to say or how to help, or if his help is even needed (or wanted) at that. They've barely been two hours on the planet as it is.

"What's the problem, Red?" Jango asks at last. For a beat, he remembers Jaster, talking to him, being sturdy and soothing when Jango had been young and ansty. This though, he imagines, is not a regular woe for every teen.

The kid takes a moment for himself, working to steady his breathing.

"I just… I can't concentrate," Obi-wan lowers his arms to cover his eyes with the palms of his hands. The teen's so frustrated he feels like crying. "I can't meditate."

"You do it all the time Obi'ka." Jango says, trying to be encouraging.

"I try. I try. it doesn't mean I actually do."

"It looks like meditation to me," the man chuckles lightly. "What is it that you can't do?"

Obi-wan takes his hands from his face and looks at the Mando, then he breathes out a startled laugh, humorless.

"Anything. Everything. I can't find peace, I can't center myself, my mind is all…" He gestures to the air hopelessly, "scattered. In here and here," he touches his head and the center of his chest.

"I don't get it." Jango confesses after a while. And he really doesn't, everything the boy just told him is abstract and hard to grasp, it sounds like nonsense and it seems like nonsense to the Mandalorian. But he knows there must be truth somewhere there. He's seen it in other Jedi, in the kid when he took away the slave collar. He's seen the Force in action and it's not abstract at all, it's real.

The boy sits up and gazes at Jango. He looks forlorn.

"It shouldn't be so hard… keeping out your emotions. Centering my own. I- When you have the Force, you have to- there are these walls in our mind that protect us. They keep us from feeling too much from others, and I… These walls don't exist in my mind anymore. And… and it hurts sometimes." He confesses, baling up the fabric from his pant legs into his fists. "I've been trying to meditate, ever since you took off the collar. I've been trying to get a grasp back of what I was taught, but I can't. I… I can't, no matter how hard I try." Obi-wan's disheartened expresion pieces right through Jango. "I never thought it would be hard, I was… I was always so good at it when I was younger. Back at the temple, you know? It… it wasn't anything all that special really, everyone could do it. I never thought a few years could… could just take that all away.

"You were right though, this place," he says after a while, looking around. He smiles sadly "It is perfect, it should help. Like the Temple… But I still can't do it. Theres… There's something wrong with me-" The boy chokes a little on his own words.

"No. No, don't say that," Jango scoots to the teens side and pulls him in with an arm. Obi-wan flinches at the motion but settles after a moment. Slowly the ginger slumps against Jango's shoulder and sighs tiredly.

"I've been trying so hard but… nothing I do works, no matter how much I try, my concentration breaks and I… I can't connect with the Force right… It really shouldn't be this hard, it must be me-" Jango sees the teen swallow back the rest of his words.

"Hey, hey," he rubs at the teen's shoulder. "We just arrived here Obi'ka. Maybe it's been hard on the ship because of me but… you shouldn't give up on this place. You say it's perfect, right?"

"It is," Red takes in the brilliant green planes that go on and on. "The Force is in all living things… this place is brimming with it." The boy caresses the blades at his side.

They are quiet for a moment, enjoying the breath of this world, but a pang trobs inside Jango's heart so he squeezes Obi-wans shoulder.

"You'll get it right, you'll see. But I want you to listen to me, and listen well. There is nothing wrong with you, okay? Nothing. You just need to get back up on your feet and…" the man sighs. "It takes time, Red. Coming back from the things you've- that we've been through. It takes time, and a lot of it." Manda knows he's not really back from it himself- sometimes he wonders if he'll ever be- but Red doesn't need to know about that.

The teen nods despondent but understanding. He'll keep trying.

·~·~·~·

Obi-wan comes back by midday when the sun starts getting bothersome. He looks a little sullen still but he does not linger on the feeling when he realizes Jango has already started and finished preparing a meal for them. The man smirks at him, self satisfied, but the teen doesn't complain further than giving the Mando an annoyed look.

They opt to eat on the ramp of The Fury; In the partial shade the heat is manageable and a slight breeze cools the teen down. Obi-wan gives a short bow to Jango in thanks for the meal and digs in after the Mandalorian.

"You should learn how to shoot," the man comments after a while of comfortable silence. The ginger gives him a small questioning frown. "I could teach you. Seeing as you don't have a shiny sword, you need to know how to hit a mark in case anything happens. And things always happen."

"It's called a lightsaber," Obi-wan corrects and frowns a little deeper. "And I can shoot."

"Yeah, sure you can," Jango scoffs with an indulgent smile and thinks, 'kids.'

"I can!" the boy exclaims indignantly.

"That I'll believe when I see it," the Mando points at him with the slim piece of bread he holds.

The teen glares at him a little, but there's a glimmer of challenge in his eyes.

A few hours later, once the sun is kinder with its heat, Jango tells the kid to keep an eye on The Fury and goes to explore around, leaving Obi-wan on his own to try and meditate once again.

·~·~·~·

Obi-wan's mind and presence in the Force are nebulous things. But Caveerpel, this small, gentle planet, is like a balm on his soul. His emotions are turbulent but the living Force here is strong, it cradles him, almost like a babe, the few moments he manages to settle enough to connect with it.

He breathes in with the wind and exhales to the cries of the little bugs hiding within the grass. He stretches his mind and soul, painfully so for being tightly bound behind the collar for so long and then strained. A tear rolls down his cheek as he tries reaching out a little further inch by agonizing inch. He doesn't know if he's doing this right, if he's hurting himself in a way he shouldn't or if that's just the way it is. He doesn't know if the Master healers would tell him different and better ways for doing this. He only has himself and an incomplete education that when he thinks about it, it threatens to make him cry even more.

It hurts, but after a while, once he pulls back a little, it's a hurt that transmutes into a comforting warmth, like the burn of sore muscles after exerting past one's limits.

Obi-wan's lips quirk at this small victory but the Force slips through from his grip and he snaps back into himself. When he opens his eyes he's laying on the grass, face down and hands holding tightly at his throbbing head. He takes in a couple of steading breaths.

"Seekers." he says to himself, pressing his forehead into the ground, smelling the earth. "Seekers," and remembers Jango's words, 'It takes time.'

He sits again, back straight and shoulders relaxed. He takes Jango's words to heart, he takes the faces of his teachers- which make his heart hurt just as much as stretching himself in the Force- and their words of wisdom, and gathers them into himself. He uses all these things to find a center within his tumultuous soul.

He breathes deeply and starts again.

·~·~·~·

Jango trots back to their landing site once he's run enough. It is not yet sundown but the star in the sky has lowered substantially. A freshness is beginning to pick up again in the air. He can see a tuft of coppery locks and loose fitting clothes a few ways away from The Fury and decides to head towards the teen. His muscles burn nicely from the exertion, he's been needing that sort of workout for a while.

Obi-wan ignores him or is too concentrated on his meditating to notice the Mandalorian approaching. The ginger is breathing deeply and the closer Jango gets the easier it is to see the lines of effort on the teens face; a little condensation gathers around his temples, his expression thighly wond. Obi-wan has his hands cupped and in them rests a small rock.

It's floating though, just barely an inch above the boy's palms, but it does.

Jango narrows his eyes and as soon as he does the teen winces and opens his eyes. The stone falls from the air, and rolls down from his hands, where it is then lost amongst the blades of grass. The teen has lost his concentration, but more than that, suddenly, Obi-wan seems terribly frightened of what he's been caught doing.

He breathes hard, eyes stuck to Jango like a cornered animal. The ginger tightens his fingers into the fabric of his clothes, just waiting for the explosive reaction he knows it's sure to follow.

The Mandalorian's face betrays nothing but inside his heart breaks. Though he knows he's not solely to blame for this reaction, that honor and horror goes to Kry'tsad, he will not fool himself into thinking he hasn't played a role in it. Won't fool himself into thinking he hadn't just done that.

With every day that pases it becomes increasingly apparent that Obi-Wan is foremost of all an empath. Jango doesn't have the luxury of thinking too unkindly about the Jetiise within the context of Red, less he accidentally direct his hatred at the teen and risk his emotions affecting Obi-Wan.

He lowers himself slowly to the ground so he won't startle the boy further, but Obi-wan huries to save himself.

"I can explain-" He says in the desperation of someone who's been found in a compromising position too many times. An excuse as poor, as it might be, could be the difference between a beating that leaves you bruised and a beating that leaves you unable to walk. There is no salvation, Jango would know, after all, he'd been caught 'doing something he shouldn't have' a fair amount of times when he'd been a slave.

But Obi-wan is not thinking clearly and nothing he could've said would have been enough to excuse himself if he had been doing something wrong. What could he explain anyway? If Jango were mad at this perceived evil- which he thinks if the circumstances were different he might've been- he'd have seen the boy in the act and nothing could've explained that away. His little field mouse still tries though.

"I- I- I-" he stutters and Jango has to stop this right now before his heart's fluttering turns into a medical condition or the kid descends into a full blown panic attack.

"Red, Red'ika, it's okay," he says as softly as he can, slowly placing a hand over one of Obi-wan's; it trembles beneath his hold.

"Sorry," the boy tries again and Jango is hit by the knowledge that despite how much they've grown closer or how many conversation's they've had about Obi-wan's people, the man has not done enough to heal the deep rooted fear of the boy about this. He has not reassured Obi-wan enough that his anger will never strike him again, no matter how Jetii he acts like. That, something that this boy can do since birth- which the longer Jango spends with the kid, he imagines must be as natural as breathing- will not earn him the Mando's scorn.

"It's okay Obi'ka, you've done nothing wrong," Jango says, taking both of the teens' hands in his own. The boy's breath flutters and his limbs still tremble as he looks wide eyed at Jango. "You've done nothing wrong. Okay? Nothing," he affirms again.

A few breaths later, Obi-wan nods jerkily.

"Okay," he responds breathlessly.

Jango never again wants to see the intelligent and clever spoken person that is Obi-wan disappear underneath that all consuming fear. But he knows, he knows it'll happen again, as surely as he knows planets never stop turning.

The man nods somberly at the boy and squeezes the bird like hands in what he hopes may be a comforting manner to Red.

·~·~·~·

The next morning Obi-wan lowers the ramp of the ship and the cool early wind rushes into the vessel pleasantly. Jango has already been out, and as the slab of metal touches down on the ground, he walks up until he's at the kid's side. He shows the ginger a blue colored stone, holds it up in the space between them like an offering.

"I thought maybe you could use it to practice your, ah… lifting things up." He says with uncertain words but a sure demeanor.

"Levitating," Obi-wan corrects quietly. He takes the stone and looks down at it, it fits nicely in the palm of his hand. "Thank you." he says with a soft look.

Jango sighs and pats the Jetii's shoulder.

·~·~·~·

Obi-wan finds a string that day inside one of the cupboards before he starts the midday meal. It's a little nasty looking, but sturdy enough once he cleans it up. He wonders if maybe he could tie up his hair with it.

He thinks he likes his hair long, it gives him some privacy when he's feeling overwhelmed and doesn't want to look at people. Well, now it's only Jango, but the purpose remains the same. When he'd been a prisoner of Death Watch it had been perhaps the only thing that had remained his. Yes, the warriors did pull him by the hair and used it to drag him around, but that had not changed the fact that it was his and it proved to be a curtain against his harsh world.

It falls by the sides of his eyes and reaches just a little lower than his shoulders. He enjoys the feeling of it swishing against his neck when he moves. Obi-wan really wishes he didn't have to cut it off once he goes back to the Temple-

The teen stops that train of thought immediately, he doesn't want to think about the temple or the people within. His heart aches from yearning for them.

Combining his fingers a couple of times through the strands of his hair until it's acceptably untangled, he gathers it up and attempts to tie it with the string. His hair slips from his fingers and the string from his hair, over and over until he starts making little frustrated noises about it.

"Need some help back there?"

Obi-wan turns to the open doors of the commun room, Jango stands there, arms crossed and an amused look on his face.

"No," the teen says as he lowers his arms, his hair promptly spilling around his face. He glances at the offending strands crossing his vision "Well maybe."

The man chuckles and comes to a stand behind the teen, taking the string from his fingers.

"We could cut your hair short, you know? Make it more manageable," Jango suggests once he starts gathering up the coppery hair.

"No," snaps the boy, though his quiet voice doesn't make it sound harsh at all. "I like it like this," he says more tempered.

"That's okay," the Mando concedes without judgment.

Obi-wan is tense at first at the handling of his hair, but loosens up after a bit, taking a moment to enjoy the unviolent treatment of his locks.

He should definitely use the string for cooking, he doesn't want to repeat the embarrassment that was Jango having to pull a hair out of his mouth that one time. The teens mortification had been strong enough to make him stop talking for a while there. The Mandalorian, of course, had found the event terribly amusing and had laughed at the teens shame for a good while.

·~·~·~·

Another day goes by of quiet company and half successes to connect with the Force and center himself. His failures have been greater in number, but he's persevering, and that is the best he can do. The bluish rock Jango had found for him still takes a great effort to levitate, but levitate it does. 'Small victories,' Garen would've said with a goofy grin at a half assed attempt he'd made on an assignment.

"Small victories," Obi-wan tells himself, despite his best efforts to keep thoughts of his family out of his mind.

·~·~·~·

The next morning after his routine, Jango joins the boy on his meditation. He doesn't join him in the act of course, but lays down on the grass and enjoys the sun before it becomes too warm later in the day. He's forgone his armor almost reluctantly, the planet is tame and there's noone out here. Even though the Beskar is his second skin he makes an effort to relax further out of its weight. So he rests.

He thinks like this, half asleep and almost thoughtless, he doesn't bother Obi-wan's meditation as much. Maybe that's what Red had meant when he said he should clear his mind. The teen wasn't telling him to give him space at any rate. Not that he would of course, Obi-wan's not-asking-for-anything-at-all problem hadn't disappeared into the ether, but the teen's expression is peaceful and not as tightly wound as Jango had seen it on the ship. So the Mando stays there, nuzzled into the tall blades of grass, close to the redhead; both of them just breathing.

Sometimes he wishes it could be like this always. Peaceful. But he knows sooner or later the itch of the hunt will crawl beneath his skin and he'll have to chase after it. For now though, he can be content. Maybe this could be a good place to ask Obi-wan to be part of his clan- But no. It's too soon still. Jango is ready, but he's not sure Red is, he must give the boy time, let him come to the Mando on his own. It's not time yet. He almost huffs out loud. What a clan they would be, only the two of them, and if he was feeling charitable enough, two and a half if he was counting The Fury as well. A very sad, little clan.

Later, after coming in and out of sleep a couple of times, Jango sits and observes the ginger as the boy concentrates his hardest to lift the rock in his palm.

"You know," Obi-wan says after a while, feeling the man's attention on him, "children in the cretché can do this easily enough." His light brown eyebrows are furrowed into something that borders on annoyance. Jango doesn't ask 'What's a cretché?' or say, 'You're still a kid,' like he wants to, because he knows what the boy means. Still, he feels the need to say something that will make Red's trails better.

"Well, I can't lift things with my mind at all, so I guess you're leagues ahead of me there," he says instead, perfectly serious as his comment breaks the teen's concentration to look incredulously at him. Obi-wan rolls his eyes but one corner of his lips is turned upwards.

"Well, good gods, I'm better at Force lifting things than a Force null! I feel better by the minute. Thanks, Jango." There's a krak eating grin on the boy's lips. The Mandaloran slaps him on the back with gusto and Obi-wan coughs out a laugh in breathless surprise.

"Any time Red. Now get back to your thing. You'll be lifting The Fury up in no time."

"Ha! I don't think that'll ever be in my ability to do, but I appreciate the sentiment." The boy tells him with a small smile as he picks up the fallen stone from the grass.

Jango frowns at him questioningly.

"My midichlorians, ah… It's a strength thing," Obi-wan explains in simple terms and shrugs. "I'm not that strong in the Force."

The man doesn't know many things about the Force, as the teen has seen fit to show him time and time again, but he feels like he should argue the point anyway.

"Isn't it… like a muscle? Don't you have to train it to get it stronger?" Jango asks slowly, trying out for a knowledge he's not sure applies here.

"Well… yes, but-"

"Then I don't see the issue," The Mando interrupts him. "One day you'll be lifting up whole ships, you'll see."

Obi-wan doesn't refute him, but the smile he gives Jango is rueful.

The teen returns to his exercise in patience and concentration, painstakingly going over and over again the levitation of the small blue rock, slightly up and slightly down, maintaining its position. He's not sure the boy can do much more than that.

Out of the blue, Red springs to a stand, making Jango instinctively reach for his blaster. Why did he ever think going out without his armor was a good ide- The Mando huffs out a laugh though as soon as he sees the reason for the small commotion. In the distance, he can see a group of young children watching them from afar.

Red takes a couple of steps back until he is standing close to Jango, it's both a little touching and a little sad to see the teen reach for him like this. On one hand it tells him that Obi-wan trusts him enough to seek him for protection, be it consciously or not, but on the other hand Red is so scared he's actively shying away from a mere group of children.

"It's okay, Obi'ka, I don't think they bite." Jango grinns up at the ginger from where he's sitting.

The boy glares at him and turns to his back with clear intentions to go hide inside The Fury.

"No, no, no, don't be like that, we're having a nice time, right?" Jango stops him, grabbing him by the pant leg. Red stumbles a little to catch his balance. He's quiet for a while, eyes stuck to the ground and ignoring the curious younglings doing a poor job hiding behind some tall blades of grass. The man nudges him a bit, trying to gain a verbal answer out of him.

"Yes," Obi-wan says quietly at last. A clear change from the attitude he was giving Jango a while ago.

"So sit down, it's okay."

Quite reluctant, the Jetii obliges, though he does not lift his eyes and sits as close to the Mando as he can without being invasive.

"I think they're just curious," Jango says gentle and low to him. Being with Red has definitely softened him in very odd ways. He's sure he would've given the kids the cold shoulder or a nasty glare before Obi-wan had become a permanent part of his ship, in the hopes that they would scam and leave him alone.

Slowly, blue gray eyes lift up, looking from under light lashes at the giggling kids. They are mostly humanoid but their skin is slightly green and the shades of their hair are all very dark.

"Keep practicing, I'm sure if we ignore them they might approach us." That doesn't seem to settle Red at all, but he takes his advice in what appears to be an effort to calm himself. His concentration has been broken though and it takes a while for the teen to make the small rock float again with any measure of success.

As predicted, the children come nearer, more boldly with every step, and their big eyes curiously inspecting whatever the ginger is doing. With the approaching of the kids, Obi-wan gets tenser by the second.

"It's okay," Jango repeats quietly. "Concentrate on your rock, nothing's going to happen. They're just kids," he hears the teen take a deep breath.

The children are still scootering around the grass as if their heads are not completely visible to them. A sudden feeling of fondness fills the Mando's chest and he remembers years ago the camps with his clan and the few ade there. The words leave him almost without his consent.

"Hey, did you hear that?" he asks obnoxiously loud as he looks at Red. "I thought I heard something. But that can't be, we're the only ones around for miles."

Predictively so, and like music, follow the high pitch giggling of kids trying and failing to muffle themselves.

"Hm, very weird, don't you think?" Jango's not expecting an answer, but the teen nods, making a slight effort to play along.

It takes a while but finally, one of the kids is close enough to them to jump from the grass with a cute 'Boo!'

"Oh! Where did you come from? I didn't see you there," The man is not very good at faking his surprise but the kids don't seem to care, easily pleased. The other two also pop from the greenery to try and give them a scare as well. There are two boys and a girl in the small group.

"Are you a witch?" Asks one of the boys as he flops down in front of them, making himself at home with the strangers. Obi-wan's concentration breaks, stone falling. He does not answer the kid.

"Of course he is," Says the girl rolling her eyes. "Can't you see he's got magic?"

"Are you really a witch though?" Asks the littlest of them, which ignites a full blown discussion amongst the three.

Jango is only too entertained, but he needs to take some of the attention away from Red.

"My name's Jango," he introduced himself, offering his hand to them as little grown ups which pleases them greatly. They talk over each other as they introduce themselves, the girl's name is Deena, and the boys are called Mabu and Goy. From the corner of his eye he can see the Obi-wan relaxing and inspecting the children with some curiosity of his own.

The locals make themselves right at home in their little circle, talking round and round about the most important things, like who's the fastest and who can eat the most belubies, whatever those are.

He can see the kids looking over and over at his quiet companion, it's inevitable when they direct their attention to Obi-wan again.

"What- what's wrong with your hair?" Asks little Goy to Red.

"Goy, that's rude! You can't ask that!" Exclaims Deena with a frown.

"My hair?" Obi-wan's voice is quiet, but at last he speaks.

"It's like- it's like- It's kind of orange," the little boy says, mystified by the absurdity of the color.

"No, is yello!" Mabu shouts enthusiastically.

The teen smiles smally, mostly looking down at the grass and fiddling with the stone between his fingers. He clears his throat.

"There's nothing wrong with it, that's just the color it is." He answers quietly.

"No, no that's not true," Mabu giggles.

"It is," Red looks up a little with a smile.

"You're lying!"

"I'm really not," a grin breaks free on Obi-wan's face.

"You can't have orange hair, that's not a real thing!" Deena says with the kind of authority only scholars and children possess. Forgetting that a moment ago she had scolded her friend on the rundes of the comment.

"We're not from around here," Jango explains for the kids.

"But your hair is normal," Goy says with a shy yet mischievous smile.

"Out there in the galaxy there are a thousand diffrent colors of hair," the man gestures at the sky.

"A thousand?" The little boy's eyes bulge in disbelief.

Mabu lifts up his fingers and reaches for the ginger locks, face full of curiosity. Jango hurries to stop him, Red is so very particular about his hair, he doesn't know how this will be received. Sometimes he seems to enjoy the petting of it, but more often than not he flinches when the Mando happens to brush it. Jango stills though when the kid stops himself before actually touching.

"It's okay," Obi-wan whispers, "you can touch it if you want." He doesn't seem absolutely certain of his own words but he keeps an encouraging smile on as he leans down a little.

The kid scoots closer now and pats his copper head gracelessly, the boy grins, soon the other two are surrounding Red and inspecting his hair as well. Up and very close like little scientists.

"It's weird!" Mabu exclaims.

"Well I think it's pretty." Deena says as the kids mess around with the Jetiis hair, shoving it from one side to another, giggling to themselves.

When it looks like it's turning out to be too much for Obi-wan, Jango calls them off.

A while later, the Jedi and the Mando are dragged away with the children because, 'It's lunch time and they're starving.' Which is no reason at all for why they should be pulled from their peaceful stop, but Jango agrees it's better to accompany the children back home in case anything happens. By the freedom the kids seem to have, he's not quite sure anything of note happens around these parts.

The way is far for they walk a long while, the children chatter at them intensely, yet their stay on Caveerpel has not lost its peacefulness, Jango thinks. This is just a different kind of tranquility, the chaotic one of little towns and innocence.

The kids have taken a shine to Jango's field mouse and have not parted from him. But little Goy is small and the reach of his legs is not as sufficient as those of his friends, he keeps falling behind them.

In a motion that seems almost second nature, Obi-wan turns and leans down with his arms open. And as kids are wont to do, the young boy doesn't even think twice before launching himself into the invitation. The teen huffs but lifts himself and the kid up.

To say Jango is surprised would be an understatement. In retrospect, he hasn't known Obi-wan all that long, but this seems a bit out of character for the teen's constant reluctance of contact and strangers. The man keeps himself close to Red in case it turns out to be too much for the ginger; Obi-wan has little energy most days and today has been particularly long already.

The other two children keep doing rounds and rounds around Red like he is their own private little sun. They ask him questions, shout them up into the air, and quietly so he answers them: whatever they wonder and whatever nonsense they comment on. Deena reaches up to take Obi-wan's hand and the teen takes it without question, despite already halving a whole kid in his arms, no matter how slight said child was. He's gentle with them and patient. Jango doesn't think he's ever seen Red more at ease than this moment here, he moves naturally around the kids, like he's done so a thousand times before.

They walk a long while before they reach a small town. The locals stare at them openly but not distrustfully, this is a place that hasn't seen too much evil knocking at their doors. A rare thing to find indeed. Obi-wan slows his pace so he can stand beside Jango, his face once again down at the unwanted attention.

"Oh dear," the voice of a woman exclaims up ahead. The Mando and the Jedi look up the dirt street to find a woman with an apron on. She looks as if she's just left whatever working she dedicates her life to.

"I'm so sorry, are they giving you trouble?" She asks with great concern, her voice heavily accented. She seems immediately aware of their otherness as foreigners to this planet. She then glares down at the kids. "Are you giving the strangers trouble?"

"No!" Exclaim the three at once as triplets would, though they are most definitely not.

"They were no trouble," Obi-wan is quick to reassure, though more quietly than he'd been with Jango in a long time. The man supposes the fact that he's talking to strangers at all is reason enough to thank the Ka'ar.

"Mama! Did you see his weird hair?!" Shouts Mabu.

"Mabu!" The dark tones of her slightly green skin darken even more in shame. "I am so sorry sirs, they're meant to know better manners."

"Sorry," the little boy wiences. She approaches them quickly, ready to take the burden off of the teen's arm but Goy clings harder to the redhead's neck.

"And he's a witch!" Deena shouts proud, like she had made a grand discovery. The poor woman looks mortified that these three children have banded together in their poor behavior.

"Children," Jango says with a smirk, hoping to absolve the woman of her shame.

"Children," the mother crooks, a note of fondes shining through as she nods in agreement. "Please, allow me to cook you a meal.

The Mandalorian is ready to refuse, unwilling to take hospitality from a bunch of strangers who might not have food to spare. But Obi-wan, raised a Jedi and knowing not to refuse a kindly offered meal, bows to the woman in a formal manner.

"We would be honored," he accepts to Jango's bafflement. The Jedi know well that refusing in situations like these might be considered terribly rude, and it was rude more often than not.

The woman smiles at his acceptance, doing an odd gesture with her hand across her shoulders.

Jango can see the arms of the teen trembling under the weight of the little boy so he decides it's time to intercede.

"You should go to your families," he tells the kids. "The day's been quite long and your parents must be missing you all."

The children groan in disappointment but Mabu grins as he sticks to his mother's skirts, knowing well he gets the best end of the deal.

"The man is quite right, your papa was asking about you not so long ago Goy. Off you go henlings." The children grumble but they obey. Both give sloppy wet kisses to the Jetii and hugs to the Mando before dashing away.

"Please," the woman says, showing them the way to her house. "My name's Aleen, I thank you for looking after our young."

The sun has already set when they return to the Fury. They both are so stuffed and full from the woman and her wifes hospitality that it's a wonder how they ever got back at all. They crash into sleep as soon as they touch their bunks.

·~·~·~·

Jango is cleaning up his blasters and making sure the calibration is just right by firing them into a tree not too far away. Red has been doing sets of slow going movements for a while now, he seems quite tired already though he hasn't been going at it long. The Mandalorian starts thinking in the back of his mind of ways he could start rebuilding the boy's body mass back up as he shoots another bolt towards the tree.

"Jango, can you lend me your blaster?" The man's first reaction is happiness because this can only mean that the teen is accepting his offer about learning how to use a blaster.

"Sure kid," he says pleasantly as he gives him one of the recently calibrated ones. The expression on Red's face is void of feeling like a carved statue as he takes the weapon in his hand and points at the same tree Jango's been shooting at.

He shoots 3 times, two of those hit the bullseye created by Jango's previous target practice and the other one graces the trunk. It's a thin enough tree so the grazing of the shot is still impressive.

Obi-wan looks at him unimpressed, an eyebrow raised in challenge, in his right hand Jango's blaster smokes a little.

"Huh, well I guess you do know how to shoot," the man compliments. The teen's not a sharp shooter by any means, but it's very accurate for someone Jango thought would be incompetent at best. "Where'd you learn that?"

"Mandalore, if you can believe that," he says as he gives the blaster back. "We couldn't use our lightsabers too often, they were too noticeable and attracted more trouble than we could handle for the mission. So we had to settle for something… less civilized." Despite the softn way Obi-wan speaks, his voice is colored with quite a lot of cheekiness.

It's Jango's turn to frown at the boy.

"Osik!" he barks at Red.

"You're free to believe whatever you like," Obi-wan smirks a little. "It was my Master, by the way, he's the one who taught me how to shoot." He looks at the tree in the distance. "The Force helps quite a lot with the aim though. If you're not pointing quite right, you'll be able to feel it somewhat. It's like your body isn't calibrated just right."

"That's handy." Jango says a little impressed.

"Quite. Though you have to learn to read and respond to these signs." He adds, it's not enough just knowing something's wrong."

Jango nods understanding.

"You still missed that one shot," The man says after a spot of silence and grins to himself at the boy's slight glare. He might not get to teach Red how to shoot, but he'll get to hoan, at least a little, the talents already there.

·~·~·~·

The next day Jango finds a freshwater river which has 0% toxicity to near-humans. It's perfect. He returns to the ship and informs Obi-wan they'll be going on a little excursion and that he's meditated quite enough for the rest of the month. The boy's expression is stuck between smiling and frowning. When Red asks him where they're going Jango only smiles self satisfied.

The sight is lovely when they reach it. The water gleams beneath the kind sun and a couple of trees rothing by the banks sway lazily with the breeze.

"How do you feel about taking a shower with actual water for a change?" he asks the Jetii with a smirk . When he turns to Obi-wan, his smile falls from his face. The boy has gone pale as the dead, his expression completely shut off.

"Red?" Jango asks worriedly, "Red what is it?"

"Nothing. It's very nice," Obi-wan says in his quiet voice, but it's halted, like he's finding it hard to speak.

"I don't think the water is all that deep," Jango takes a wild stab in the dark. "If you don't know how to swim, it won't be a problem. And hey maybe I can teach you if-"

"I don't want to learn how to swim," The boy snaps a little. "I mean- I already know how to swim, I don't need you to teach me."

"Alright," The Mando says slowly, unsure how to proceed. "Well, come on, it's going to be nice, I promise," he says, trying to make whatever mood has struck the boy go away. He'll keep an eye on him nevertheless.

Obi-wan crosses his arms to his chest, almost in a protective manner.

Jango, will make this better. He just needs a moment to think about it. While he does he starts undressing, taking off his boots and shirt; leading by example seems like the right place to begin at. Obi-wan remains quiet behind him, so he smiles.

"Are you going to make me go in all on my own?"

"I- I- I- I don't want to- I don't want to get in the water." Jango turns to him, Red is tightly bound and he can see the boy sinking his nails into his arms. "I- I don't-"

Whatever is going on here, Jango will take care of it, like he always does when the little Jetii is distressed. Whatever this is, he'll make it better. The teen's eyes are glassy as he stares at a random point between the river and the Mando. The man softens.

"Obi'ka, it's okay-" He begins, placing a gentle hand on the redhead's shoulder.

The boy drops to the floor and Jango's heart accelerates at the panicked look on Obi-wan's face. The teen stcrables to up to a stand.

"I don't want to get into the water!" He says loudly as the man quickly closes the space between them because the kid looks like he's about to fall down again with how unsteady his walking.

"Red-" the boy stumbles back and Jango catches him by the arm.

"No! No!" Obi-wan back hands him with his struggles to free himself "Don't touch me!"

Jango lets go, eyes wide, and the boy hits the ground. His legs are shaking so much his efforts to get away from the Mandalorian are pathetic at best.

Obi-wan can't catch his breath, he takes in desperate gulps of air but they won't pass his throat, the man is frozen to the spot, he doesn't know what to do. He- he needs to- He needs to help Obi-wan, he needs to calm him down, he-

A choked cry finally breaks free from the teen. He starts crying. Like a child who can't take in enough air. He starts and he doesn't stop for a long while. Brought down and paralized like an animal of prey.

And Jango… he sees it now, he can't make this better. There's nothing he can do to help. So with shaking hands himself, he puts his shirt back on, sits far away in front of Obi-wan where he'll be visible to the Jetii, and waits. Jango just waits.

After a long while, Red's harrowing breathing calms down to stuttering intakes of wet air. His senese come back to him somewhat when his eyes catch sight of Jango sitting at a distance. The boy raises his arms to cover his face and hide from the world.

"Do you want to go back?" Jango asks after a few minutes, equally drained.

Slowly, the boy nods.

·~·~·~·

When they reach The Fury again, Obi-wan stands by the open ramp, looking at the great green expans before him. His face is contorted in anger and heartbreak and so much more.

Obi-wan screams.

"Aaaaaaaaaaah!" And he screams and he screams, angry and hurt out into the wild. No one hears him, there's no one around. The Jetii screams himself hoarse until he's crying again. He screams until he doesn't have energy to spare.

But Jango is there. And Jango bears witness to Red's pain. And he remains unable to do anything to fix this. Whatever it is.

That night the Mandalorian is lulled to sleep to the background sounds of Obi-wan's nightmares. He does not dream though.

·~·~·~·

It's their last day on Caveerpel if they don't want to push it before the effects of the planet's atmosphere start hitting them.

Obi-wan is not anywhere on the ship once Jango wakes up. It should worry him that he did not wake when the boy left, but it doesn't, and that should worry him too. He does not think he's losing his edge, but the teen has skills of his own and he's… safe. There's no reason he should ever be wary of Red. And maybe that feeling should worry him too but all it does is make him content.

He goes out, the sun barely peeking through the far off trees. The wind blows cold, and there, almost hidden between the tall blades of grass, sits his little field mouse. The man smiles slightly at the thought, for it's never been quite more accurate than now.

He goes to the boy and sits beside him. The quiet is nice but somewhat grave.

"I'm… sorry about yesterday." Obi-wan apologizes, eyes puffy from crying through the night and dark shadows prominent under them from poor sleep.

"You never have to apologize to me Obi-wan," Jango says solemnly, wishing he could draw the boy to his side, but know it would not go well. "Not about this," whatever this had been about. It doesn't matter, Red had demons to spare from which he can pick.

"I don't want to be like this," he says a while later, exhausted not only from his bad bay and night.

In this, Jango cannot comfort him. In his experience, it doesn't get much better. One just learns to handle the horrors better and not let them take you. The Mando says nothing as the wind rushes through again.

·~·~·~·

Obi-wan has once again made a meal that fills Jango's tastebuds with the memory of a home long gone. He's absolutely content for a moment, embraced by the warmth of things that were.

"How did you learn?" Jango asks, gesturing at the plate before him.

"Satine- The Duchess, she taught me how to cook some things while we were on the run," a faint dusting of blush colors the teen's cheeks as he says this. "There was also this old woman who sheltered us for a few days, she taught us some things too."

Ah yes, the young Kryze girl, protected by the Jetiise after the murder of her family, leaving her ruler of a whole system at a most tender age.

"You like her," Jango comments idly as he savors the thick, flavorful substance with small chunks of meat in it. "Satine I mean."

"Yeah, she's nice. Bossy, but nice." It's a very offhanded comment, but the Mando's not stupid and he has eyes. There's a certain way in how the boy says Satine's name, something about his face that morphs just slightly into tenderness.

"Mh-hm, I'm sure she is," Jango says.

Obi-wan glares at him from under his scrunched eyebrows but does nothing to confirm or deny the man's insinuating timber. Jango smirks at the teen as he takes another spoonful of the dish, which only makes the ginger glare at him harder.

"It's good," Jango adds after a beat, "she taught you well." Obi-wan is honoring his namesake with the color his face is quick to take. The man might not care for the Kryzes all that much, or for the ruling of Mandalore and its politics really, he left all that behind with the corpses of his clan, but he can sure as hell take pleasure in prodding at the kid. "Did you guys kiss?"

"Jango!" The boy shouts scandalized.

"What? It's not like I asked if you had sex." And he really hadn't, the boy was exaggerating.

"Jango!"

Quick as a loth cat, a screw on the table lifts on its own accord and hits the man straight to the temple. It bounces innocently and softly from his head to the table. They stop, both looking at the little piece of metal with surprise. The boy has tensed all up and his heart has skipped several beats, but Jango only breathes out a laugh.

"That's good right?" He asks, Obi-wan giving an airy laugh of his own, shoulders dropping.

"Yeah- Yes, it is." He laughs, covering his mouth with his hand. He whispers, "It is very good." Then Obi-wan looks at Jango and quips, giddy with achievement and relief, "If I had known the only thing I needed to do to finally make some progress was get annoyed with you I would've started ages ago."

Jango doesn't stop laughing.

·~·~·~·

The sun is going down on Caveerpel, they are all but ready to part.

Obi-wan sits on the ramp enjoying the last rays of sun and the cool evening wind for the last time in who knows how long. Jango stands beside him, leaning against the hydraulic pistons, and thinks maybe, next time they dock the teen might actually get down at whatever port or planet that might be at.

He closes his eyes, taking a leaf out from the boy's book to just enjoy this moment.

"So, did it help?" He asks, pulling Red out from his musings. "The planet. Does it still hurt?" Obi-wan shakes his head, there's a peaceful expression on his face.

"It was amazing," the boy says. "I just wish I could've… I don't know. Done more?"

"Don't put yourself down a kid, you accomplished a lot." Jango tries.

"I can now lift a rock for a while and my head is no longer killing me. You have to stretch that one quite a bit to call it a lot," the ginger chuckles good naturedly. "Still, thank you. Thank you for doing this for me. I'm too grateful. This place…" the wind rushes by, a tender cares, "it's truly wonderful."

"Don't thank me kid," Jango says fondly though he longs to say more.

He looks up at the sun, his heart full at that moment. The man wants to teach Obi-wan everything, how to bounty hunt, how to train in every weapon he wants to, teach him Mando'a and speak to him as one of his own. He already is one of Jango's own in so many ways. 'The boy's not ready', he thinks again and wonders if he's trying to convince himself of that too.

He can start with this at least, dropping little words here and there in the hopes Obi-wan might want the same as Jango.

"It's a beautiful ge'tuur." The Mando says at the sun, and means it. "Tion gar nu'mirdi?"

"Elek," Red says unexpectedly. "Bic mesh'la." the teen adds in a heavily accented, and broken, Mando'a.

"You speak Mando'a?" Jango's staring at him incredulously.

"A little," he nods.

"Satine?" The man asks in resigned exasperation.

"Satine," Red confirms with a slight smirk to his lips.

The Mando ruffles the Jetii's hair and smiles when it startles a laugh out of the teen. He supposes he should be grateful that the little Duchess was already halfway there in turning Obi-wan into a Mandalorian.

Mando'a:

Ade: Children, sons, daughters.

Ka'ra: Stars

Osik: Dung, shit.

Kyr'tsad: Death Watch

Ge'tuur: Dawn

Tion gar nu'mirdi?: Don't you think?

Bic mesh'la: It beautiful (cause my boy ain't an expert yet, and neither am I)

Elek: Yes

Abril: Look guys, look. I can barely speak my own language, then add English to that equation. I'm TRYING my best with Mando'a and Dai Bendu but I'm just not that smart to try and correctly write down sentences in these languages. (Also my beta disappeared so you guys are going to settle for what I can offer.)

If there is no try and only doing or not doing, well I guess I failed then XD

In case anyone's unaware, whenever Obi-wan repeats 'seekers' he's referring to the Jedi saying, "We are seekers, not saints."

Also, also. Thanks to the SW Conlangs discord server for the help with the Mando'a :D they saved my ass.