Author: TemporaryUniverse
Summary: Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan find their footing after Melida/Daan, with a little (maybe a lot of) help along the way.
Character(s): Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn, Boga the Varactyl
Word count: 5,658
A.N. This is a prequel to my fic, This Will End
Dai Bendu translations are at the end.
When Qui-Gon lands on the planet, Obi-Wan is waiting for him. The boy emerges from the shadow of a demolished building, bows deeply, and then waits as Qui-Gon looks him over.
He is thin, much thinner than he had already been, and though he stands tall and commanding, there is something diminished about his presence, as though his confidence is only for show. The bruises on his face blend into dark circles under his eyes, which are a dull, uncertain grey, and his cheeks are sunken. His hair has grown out, tangled, limp, and shaggy around his ears, the Padawan braid gone. His Jedi tunics are also gone, replaced by a navy shirt and a plain, brown jacket, both of which are filthy and torn. There is a blaster at his hip and a knife strapped to his boot, and nothing in his body language suggests he is uncomfortable wearing them.
He looks like a soldier.
I did this to him. The thought makes Qui-Gon uncomfortable.
"Obi-Wan," he finally says, and stops, not knowing what else to say. Six months is not much time at all in the grand scheme of things, but it feels as though there is an eternity between him and his Padawan.
"Jaieh Jinn," Obi-Wan replies. His voice is quiet and raspy, as though he has used it too much, or perhaps too little. "Thank you for coming."
"You called for aid," Qui-Gon says. Of course, I came, he does not say because he'd already proven that to be a lie when he had done the opposite.
It hurts, to look at Obi-Wan and see his failure reflected back at him.
"Cerasi is dead." Something haunted seeps into his expression. "Nield says it's my fault."
"And is it?"
The flinch is almost imperceptible and Qui-Gon regrets the words immediately.
"Yes." The boy looks away, then at the ground, shame and guilt hanging heavily on his shoulders. He wonders if it's true or if Obi-Wan is taking on a burden that isn't his.
"Tell me what happened."
Obi-Wan does.
Days later, peace has been restored to the newly named Melidaan, and Obi-Wan is returning with him to Anohrah. He is a ghost. He eats little, sleeps even less, and talks not at all, avoiding Qui-Gon as much as he can on such a small craft and despite Qui-Gon's efforts to engage. Once, he puts a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, intending to comfort him. The boy freezes and stares at it until Qui-Gon releases him. Then he disappears into the fresher and doesn't return for hours.
He reminds the Jaieh of an injured asharl panther cub he rescued when he was a Padawan. It hadn't lashed out like many scared animals tended to do, rather, it had been withdrawn and wary of even the smallest kindness. It would hide where he couldn't reach it and stand motionless out of terror when he pet it.
It had taken time, patience, and care, but the panther cub had eventually trusted him. He only hopes that Obi-Wan will be able to do the same.
When they reach Anohrah, he brings the boy to the Healers. They poke and prod and run so many tests that even Qui-Gon's patience starts to wear thin. He can't imagine how Obi-Wan feels, and his Padawan is worryingly blank in his expression and in the Force. He still hasn't spoken, not even to answer the Healers' questions about his injuries, although he is otherwise cooperative.
And, oh, the list of diagnoses is longer than Qui-Gon can bear. Broken ribs, only half healed. A blaster graze to the arm, infected. Torn ligaments in the left knee. Partial deafness in one ear. Bruises, cuts, and burns. Malnutrition. Immunodeficiency. Pneumonia and septicemia. There are also older injuries, already healed. A broken wrist and several broken fingers. A thick scar across the palm of the same hand, affecting mobility. Shrapnel scars along the right hip and thigh. Another blaster graze on the shoulder. Obi-Wan is a patchwork of battlefield wounds. And that's just the physical.
They stay in the Halls for three weeks, as the Healers administer their treatments. Qui-Gon remains by his Padawan's side as much as he can, but even he has to sleep and eat. Every time he leaves, he comes back to find such relief in Obi-Wan's eyes that his heart breaks anew. How can Obi-Wan still wish to be near him, still find comfort in his presence?
Qui-Gon has been thinking of Obi-Wan as his Padawan still, but is he really what's best for the boy? He already abandoned him once, and that trust is not easily regained. Their partnership may never recover. Not that it was very strong in the first place, not after Qui-Gon's initial denials. But Qui-Gon had enjoyed having a Padawan again, a bright, young spark of curiosity and optimism on his heels, and he is only now realizing it.
When Obi-Wan had drawn his saber against him on Melida/Daan, all he had been able to see was his former Padawan, Xanatos. He had felt such vindication, wanted to point to Obi-Wan and shout to Yoda and Tahl and say, "Look, see? I was right, he has betrayed me too."
But it hadn't been a betrayal. If Obi-Wan had been blinded by his idealism, had looked at an injustice and stood up against it, given his body, mind, and soul to fight for a cause he believed in, then Qui-Gon had been blinded by the past. He should have explained to his Padawan that Jedi could not right every wrong in the galaxy, that they would do what they could when they could, but they had to be ready to let go when they couldn't. He should have explained that there were better ways to help. Instead, he had forced Obi-Wan to choose between being a Jedi and letting children die.
Now the consequences of his ultimatum sit in front of him, written in scars and haunted, blue eyes.
The Healers release them with strict dietary and physical therapy instructions. Obi-Wan limps behind him all the way to their quarters, a hand fisted in the back of his robes. His knee hasn't quite healed correctly. Apparently, he had spent too much time walking on it after the injury and is now required to wear a brace. The Healers don't know if it will be permanent yet.
They reach their rooms and Obi-Wan stands in the doorway, looking lost, as Qui-Gon prepares his bedroom. It's been months since it's been occupied, after all, and Qui-Gon hasn't touched it since then. Obi-Wan enters tentatively and sits on the edge of the bed, his fingers skimming over the soft surface like he's never seen it before.
"Jaieh?" He says, the first word he's spoken since they left Melida/Daan. It's soft and unsure. Qui-Gon looks at him. "I'm-m s-sor-sorry."
He hunches his shoulders and ducks his head, bracing for a blow. Qui-Gon reaches out and lays a gentle hand on the crown of his head and feels him lean into it.
"I'm sorry, too, Padawan."
They get a week and a half of healing, of slowly relearning how to orbit around each other. There are flashbacks and arguments and misunderstandings because Qui-Gon may have realized his mistake, but correcting it is another matter. But they get better, Obi-Wan bounces back with incredible resilience. The haunted shadow starts to disappear from his eyes and he regains some of the weight he lost. He begins to talk again, he and Qui-Gon finding their rhythm running through simple katas together.
The first day back in their quarters, Qui-Gon sits his Padawan on a chair and cuts his hair. As he weaves the Padawan braid, he says nothing about the tears that slip down Obi-Wan's cheeks, or the way his voice cracks as they renew their vows to each other.
When they step outside, whispers follow them.
"Ignore them, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon says after the rumors reach their ears. Pointed comments about the Padawan that abandoned the Jedi and turned against his Jaieh, that made every Jehxah doubt the commitment and loyalty of every Padib and Padawan. One Jehxah even mutters that Qui-Gon shouldn't have taken his Padawan back, but he quickly hurries away upon seeing Qui-Gon's glare. "We both made mistakes, but your actions were selfless and came from a place of compassion, something all Jedi should strive for. If I thought you were truly disloyal, you would not be my Padawan."
Obi-Wan nods, but Qui-Gon can't tell if he believes him.
At least Obi-Wan's friends welcome him back with enthusiasm, and the first time Qui-Gon hears him laugh after their return, he smiles to himself, relishes in the warm happiness of their strengthening bond, and thinks that maybe things will turn out okay.
Then someone tries to kill Tonjaieh Yoda.
They put a stop to Xanatos' plot and follow him to Telos IV, Obi-Wan at his Jaieh's heels. Of course, Qui-Gon regrets bringing his Padawan along when Xanatos nearly kills them, only for them to be saved at the last possible second by their new friends, Den and Andra.
Xanatos dies in a pool of acid, one last victory against his old Jaieh, and Qui-Gon does not feel how he thought he would. There's a lingering regret, yes, the death of the hope that he could bring his Fallen Padawan back to the light, and a profound sadness for the child he loved and lost, but then he looks at Obi-Wan and sees their future and it's easier to let go of the past.
But Obi-Wan…
When they get back to Anohrah, Obi-Wan hides under his bed and doesn't leave for three days.
All of their progress disappears overnight. Obi-Wan has stopped talking again. He can't leave their rooms without having debilitating panic attacks that leave both of them exhausted and on edge. His hands have a constant tremor. Every loud noise makes him drop to the ground. When Tahl visits, he hides in his room, so Qui-Gon takes to meeting her elsewhere in Anohrah. But then when he returns, Obi-Wan looks at him like he did on Melida/Daan, like he can't quite believe Qui-Gon came back for him.
It takes him three weeks to find out about the nightmares. Obi-Wan doesn't ever scream, doesn't make a single sound, but when Qui-Gon looks in on him one night before he retires, his Padawan is curled in a ball under the bed, shaking in his sleep. The Force around him roils with distress.
"Wake up. Obi-Wan, wake up, Padawan. It's just a dream."
Only his Jedi reflexes save him from getting slashed across the face when Obi-Wan strikes out. A knife. His Padawan keeps a knife under his pillow. Not even a vibroblade, but a crude, steel dagger, probably brought back from Melida/Daan. If Qui-Gon doesn't handle this very carefully, someone is going to get hurt.
He moves back, out of range and gets down on the ground so he can see Obi-Wan better. His Padawan holds the knife in front of him in a trembling hand. His eyes are open, but he obviously isn't seeing anything in the room.
"Obi-Wan, wake up. It's Qui-Gon, we're in Anohrah. You're safe, wake up." He repeats this in the calmest voice he can manage until Obi-Wan seems to finally look at him. "Put the knife down, Obi-Wan."
It disappears back under the pillow. Not ideal, but at least he can relax.
"Why don't you come out for some tea?" For a moment it seems like Obi-Wan will refuse, but then he slowly slides out from under the bed. Qui-Gon stands and his Padawan shrinks back, but still follows him out into the living area. He sets about making tea, the ritual calming in its motions. Obi-Wan watches, quiet and out of the way.
When the water boils, he measures out the tea leaves and lets them steep. His Padawan follows him again to the couch, curling up against the opposite arm with his cup clutched between his fingers. He stares down into the liquid as if he could disappear into it. Qui-Gon sips his tea and waits.
By the time he finishes his drink, Obi-Wan hasn't even taken a sip. He sighs.
"Obi-Wan." He watches his Padawan's knuckles turn white. "Talk to me, please."
Obi-Wan's mouth opens and closes a few times, but nothing comes out. The look he gives Qui-Gon is utterly helpless and frustrated.
"Oh, Padawan, what am I going to do with you?" He is surprised by the burst of fear he feels through the Force. It matches the sudden terror in Obi-Wan's eyes. "Obi-Wan?"
Don't send me away.
The thought is frightened, and less word than emotion, but it rings loudly in the Force and stabs into his heart.
"I made a mistake on Melida/Daan. I should not have left you there and I will not make that same mistake again. You're stuck with me, Obi-Wan. I am not letting you go again, ikio'ah foh." He sets his cup aside. "Naah bika, taweju."
Obi-Wan places his tea on the end table by his elbow and hesitantly scooches within reaching distance of Qui-Gon. The Jaieh lays a hand on his Padawan's shoulder and draws him close, slowly, giving him the opportunity to pull away. Though he is rigid with tension, Obi-Wan goes with the movement, letting himself be pulled into Qui-Gon's chest, curling up in his lap. Qui-Gon runs his fingers through spiky, auburn hair and feels his Padawan shake.
"Shhh, Padawan. It's alright. I have you."
He's with Tahl again, telling her that it's one of the bad days. The ones where Obi-wan doesn't leave the safety of the shelter under his bed. He wishes he could help, but his Padawan rejects every attempt to reach out.
It's been a week since he found out about the nightmares. Qui-Gon is exhausted and worried, nearly pulling his hair out in frustration, and he doesn't know what to do.
"You can't handle this by yourself, Qui. He needs more support than that," Tahl says. She's right, of course. She's always right. She sees more clearly than he does, even when blind.
Qui-Gon just feels like he's failing his Padawan by not being able to help him through this.
That leads him to the halls of healing, the very last place he wants to be. But for Obi-Wan, he will do this. He steps up to the reception desk and draws the attention of the Padawan manning it.
Making the appointment only takes a couple of minutes. He's scheduled for seventh hour the next morning with Healer Orn-Rai Wynver. After thanking the Padawan, he heads to his quarters, thinking about the conversation he'll have tomorrow. It's a surprise to find that he's anxious about it. He resolves to meditate on it later.
When he makes it home, he checks in on Obi-Wan, who is still curled up under the bed. His eyes are open, though, and they watch Qui-Gon, unblinking. In order to properly see his Padawan, he has to sit cross-legged on the ground and lean down a bit, his elbows on his knees.
"Have you eaten today?" Qui-Gon asks. A beat, and then Obi-Wan slowly shakes his head. "Well then, do you want to come out for midmeal?" Another shake.
Expecting this, he slides a nutrient bar to the edge of the bed.
"Please eat something, Obi-Wan," he says, careful not to push too hard. These days, his Padawan's panic attacks are set off very easily, especially when it comes to food. He's still too thin, but it's not as bad as it was on Melidaan. Obi-Wan doesn't move, which is probably the best he can hope for.
"I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."
With a sigh, Qui-Gon stands and leaves. He cooks and eats his meal by himself, his thoughts turned toward his Padawan. Hopefully, this Mind Healer will be able to help because he doesn't know what he'll do if they can't. There's no way Obi-Wan will be able to achieve Knighthood if something doesn't change, no way he'll be able to be a Jedi, but Qui-Gon can hardly abandon him again. He vowed to stay with the boy. Maybe they can both join the Agricorps? Qui-Gon has always been good with plants and if he's to be Obi-Wan's caretaker, he can't very well be going on weeks long diplomatic missions.
But being a Jehxah is Qui-Gon's life. His purpose. He has devoted his life to the Jedi. It's what he's good at, and he doesn't want to leave it behind. It sounds callous, but can he really give that up for a traumatized child? A child he's known for only a year?
He thinks about how Obi-Wan nearly ended up in the Agricorps and wonders if it might have been better that way. If Qui-Gon hadn't taken him as a Padawan, he would be safe and happy in the Corps.
It's no use dwelling on what might've been and might yet be. Stay in the here and now, as he likes to say. There is no changing the past and they'll figure the future out when they come to it.
He doesn't see Obi-Wan again until he checks on his Padawan before he goes to bed. Obi-Wan is either asleep or pretending to be, so Qui-Gon doesn't disturb him. The nutrient bar is gone at least, and Qui-Gon hopes that meant he ate it, although there's no way to tell if he instead stashed it somewhere. He goes to bed that night with a heavy heart.
Maybe things will look better in the morning.
The next morning, Qui-Gon wakes early, but when he exits his room, he finds Obi-Wan sleeping on the couch. The boy stirs. With someone else in the room, his instincts force him to be alert.
"Good morning, Padawan," Qui-Gon says as Obi-Wan blinks blearily up at him. His Padawan looks worn, purple smudges under his eyes. Not a restful night then. They usually aren't, nowadays. "Nightmares?"
Obi-Wan nods hesitantly. Everything he does seems to be hesitant these days.
Qui-Gon doesn't bother to ask if he wants to talk about it. He hasn't heard Obi-Wan's voice since Telos.
"I have an appointment in an hour, will you be okay on your own?" Another nod. "Alright. Breakfast?"
Obi-Wan helps to prepare their meal, cutting up fresh fruit while Qui-Gon stirs the porridge. They eat in silence, but Qui-Gon is relieved enough that his Padawan is eating that he doesn't mind. He sends Obi-Wan to get ready for the day, thankfully without encountering protest, while he cleans up.
When Obi-Wan emerges, freshly showered and dressed, Qui-Gon goes through his own routine quickly and before long, it's time for him to leave.
It's surprising how anxious he feels leaving Obi-Wan alone. What if something happens and Qui-Gon isn't there?
"I'll only be gone an hour. An hour and a half at most," he adds because he's not sure how long it will take to go over everything. There's a lot to talk about. "Comm me if you need me."
Obi-Wan watches him with a blank face up until the door closes behind him. Qui-Gon takes a deep, fortifying breath, then heads for the Halls of Healing.
Orn-Rai Wynver welcomes him in, cream fur rippling and piercing yellow-green eyes studying him in a somewhat unnerving way. This is why Qui-Gon doesn't like Mind Healers. They always see more than he wants them to.
"Jaieh Jinn. What brings you in today?"
"I'm actually here about my Padawan. Obi-Wan is… not doing well," Qui-Gon admits. Deception will serve no one in this situation. If he wants help for his Padawan, he needs to be honest.
"In what way?" Wynver tilts his head curiously.
"Since we got back from Telos, he hasn't spoken. He has nightmares, sleeps under his bed with a knife under his pillow, and he hasn't set foot outside our apartment in a month, some days he doesn't even get out from under the bed. He keeps hoarding food, but he barely seems to eat. The only people he doesn't hide from are myself and his friend Bant. He has panic attacks, sometimes at random… I just don't know what to do for him anymore."
"What happened on Telos?"
Qui-Gon exhales heavily, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped tightly.
"A lot happened on Telos… but I don't think that's where it started."
"Then where did it start?"
He talks about Bandomeer and Melidaan and Telos for the next hour. Healer Wynver is not cruel in his push for details, pulling things out of him with methodical precision, but Qui-Gon has always been a private person, and examining his personal motivations and feelings with a stranger is difficult. By the time he reaches the present in his account, he is unexpectedly exhausted, emotions worn thin.
Wynver sits back in his chair, a finger to his long chin. He is quiet for several minutes while Qui-Gon does his own contemplation. He knows that he has messed up when it comes to Obi-Wan, several times in fact, but discussing it has given him a new perspective. He hadn't been ready for another Padawan when he took Obi-Wan on. He doesn't think he ever would have been ready. But Yoda had meddled, and once he had a Padawan, it had forced him to step up to the role of master. Obi-Wan had been the best thing to happen to him. The boy had pulled him out of his grief and reticence, pushing him to engage, to stop wallowing in the past. And he threw it all away because he let his emotions cloud his judgment.
"It's good that you came to me," Wynver finally says. "I think both you and Obi-Wan need someone to talk to about these things. I can't give him an official diagnosis until I do a psychological exam, but I believe I can help him."
Qui-Gon's relief is immediate. He doesn't relish the idea of meeting with the Mind Healer on a regular basis, but he recognizes that he probably needs it. Obi-Wan deserves better than an indifferent master who can't be there for him. Tahl deserves better than a distant, uncaring friend.
Then he realizes a slight problem.
"I don't know that Obi-Wan will talk to you. He wouldn't to the other Mind Healers." When they'd first come back from Melidaan, Healer Che had recommended them, but Obi-Wan had refused.
"Hmm, yes," Wynver muses. "It sounds like he has an understandable fear of strange adults. I still must meet him, regardless. I am hopeful that with repeated visits, he will begin to trust me. He is isolated right now, and that is only feeding his anxiety around others. You said that you meet your friend Tahl outside your rooms?"
"Yes, we usually head to one of the gardens."
"I suggest you meet in your rooms. In order for Obi-Wan to grow comfortable in the presence of other people, there need to be people around in a controlled situation. Tahl is a known to him, he may find it easier to relax around her than someone else. Even if he just hides in his room, it will still be useful exposure for him."
Qui-Gon nods. It makes sense and he curses himself that his decision to keep Tahl away may have made things worse. How many other mistakes has he made in his handling of his Padawan? He keeps failing him and he doesn't know how to stop.
"Is there a good time for me to come over tomorrow? The exam will take a couple of hours, most likely."
They set up an appointment for the next day, and one for Qui-Gon in a week. He leaves Wynver's office feeling wrung out and yet hopeful.
Qui-Gon finishes the chapter he's reading and looks over at Obi-Wan, curled up at the other end of the couch, frowning in concentration at his datapad. He's working on a history assignment, researching the history of the Order of the Whills.
He hasn't been able to attend his classes for over seven months now, so rather than re-enroll him, Qui-Gon has taken over his academics in a bid to get him caught up again. It's slow going, but Obi-Wan is still doing better than Qui-Gon thought he would be, given… everything.
Right now, though, Obi-Wan's brow is drawn tight and he keeps massaging his temples, his stylus tapping pointlessly against the edge of the datapad. He stops and rubs his fist against his eyes, yawning, then grips his Padawan braid and begins to twist and tug at it.
Qui-Gon glances at the time and realizes it's later than he thought.
"Obi-Wan," he calls gently, but his Padawan still flinches before looking up at him. "Go get ready for bed." Obi-Wan frowns and holds up his pad. "You can finish tomorrow."
The Padawan pouts a little bit, and for a moment he looks his age, but then he sets the pad on the side table and obediently heads off to the fresher.
Qui-Gon sets his own pad aside, standing and stretching, grimacing as his back pops. He goes to prepare himself for bed as well, trying not to think about what the morning will bring.
The next morning, he finds Obi-Wan on the couch again.
"Good morning, Padawan."
Obi-Wan gives him a tentative smile.
They once again prepare firstmeal together, nuna eggs and toast this time, and Obi-Wan eats a slice of toast, drinks a whole glass of muja juice, and picks at his eggs. Qui-Gon wishes he would eat more, but it's better than nothing so he lets it go. He waits until Obi-Wan pushes his plate away, and then springs the news on him in the gentlest way he can. Maybe he should have said this last night.
"There will be someone visiting us today, Obi-Wan." Obi-Wan's eyes dart up to him, wide and fearful. "A Mind Healer. He is coming to speak with you about how best to help you."
Obi-Wan shakes his head vehemently, over and over.
"It's okay, Padawan, he will not hurt you, he just wants to talk. He was very kind when I met with him yesterday."
His Padawan pushes back his chair and runs into his room, presumably to hide under his bed. Qui-Gon sighs.
Hopefully, Healer Wynver will be able to get through to the boy.
He cleans up the remnants of their meal, and makes himself a second cup of tea, and sits on the sofa to wait. It isn't long before there is a knock on the door, and he goes to greet the Healer.
"He's in his room," Qui-Gon says, as Wynver enters. "Under the bed, most likely. I told him you would be coming."
"Thank you, Jaieh Jinn," Wynver nods. "I must ask that you remain outside while I speak with him."
"Why?"
"In my experience, Padawans are more comfortable sharing their thoughts when their Jaiehs are not listening in, for a variety of reasons. We may discuss things that Obi-Wan would rather keep private, and it is important for me to build a trust between us without you present."
"He may not speak with you," Qui-Gon warns as he had the day before.
"And I am prepared for that. Believe me, Jaieh Jinn, I have many years of experience dealing with traumatized Jedi."
Finally, Qui-Gon has to admit to himself that Healer Wynver knows what is best in this case.
"Very well," he says. "I will wait here."
"Thank you."
Wynver knocks on Obi-Wan's bedroom door.
"Hello, Obi-Wan. My name is Healer Orn-Rai Wynver. Your Jaieh is concerned and asked me to speak with you. May I come in?"
There is no reply as far as Qui-Gon can tell, but Wynver enters the room anyway, and the door shuts behind him, leaving Qui-Gon standing awkwardly outside. He goes back to the sofa and sits heavily, picking his teacup back up.
He hasn't taken a single sip by the time Jaieh Wynver reemerges. He looks up immediately at the Healer, searching his expression for insights into how his meeting with Obi-Wan went, but his leonine face gives nothing away.
"How is he?" Qui-Gon says, perhaps a bit desperately. "Did he speak to you?"
"We were able to communicate," Wynver replies. "But no, he did not speak. I believe his muteness and other symptoms to be a post-traumatic stress response to the trauma he has suffered in the past year. Particularly the events on Melida/Daan."
"But he was fine when we first came back."
"The trauma response can be delayed, sometimes for as long as three months. The additional trauma from Telos may have triggered it. I cannot formally diagnose him with PTSD until he meets the symptom requirements for another two months, but he may still benefit from therapy to manage his current symptoms."
"Do you think it will? Last another two months, I mean."
"I think it is likely given the severity of his response. This will not go away overnight. But the sentient mind is an unpredictable thing. He may see no symptoms two months from now, or his recovery could take years, or he may be dealing with it for the rest of his life. There is no way to be sure at this stage."
The rest of his life.
The guilt comes surging back with a vengeance. I did this to him. He bows his head.
"Will he be able to be a Jedi again?" His voice comes out hoarse from the lump in his throat.
"That is entirely up to him."
The next three months crawl by. Healer Wynver visits often, every other day for the most part. Qui-Gon is not privy to his sessions with Obi-Wan, he is not allowed to participate and Wynver told him at the start that he would not discuss anything of what happens during that time with him unless his Padawan is in danger of hurting himself or someone else. But whatever they talk about… it's working. Or perhaps it's just the passage of time, but slowly, oh so slowly, Obi-Wan begins to emerge from his shell, no longer hiding under his bed or in his room as often, no longer existing as a shadow on Qui-Gon's periphery, he allows himself to take up space, to relax in the safety of their quarters. He begins to allow Qui-Gon to touch him, just a hand on his shoulder at first, or a hug when it's silently asked for. He still can't leave their rooms without a panic attack, he's still hypervigilant, he still has nightmares and flashbacks, but Healer Wynver teaches them both how to handle them, to ground him during a flashback, to breathe through a panic attack, to calm him when he's flinching at every sound.
He still doesn't talk. But Healer Wynver gives him a datapad with a program he can use that will read out what he types if he needs to communicate more than a nod, a shake, or a shrug. He also downloads learning modules for Galactic Sign Language, which Obi-Wan does not take to at first, but towards the end of the second month, he gradually starts to use it more often.
Healer Wynver prescribes him a couple of different medications, one that he takes daily for his anxiety, and another rescue med for calming him during a panic attack. Obi-Wan obtains his diagnosis of PTSD, and Qui-Gon is forced to accept that this is not a problem that will be fixed in a few months. But he promised never to abandon Obi-Wan again. He will stick with the boy through whatever comes.
And then they hit their first roadblock.
One morning, Qui-Gon returns home from an appointment with Healer Wynver to find that Obi-Wan is not in their rooms. He checks under his Padawan's bed. Behind the couch. Under his own bed. In the fresher.
Obi-Wan is not there.
Qui-Gon feels a panic unbecoming of a Jedi Master swell in his chest.
He comms Tahl first, sweeping out of his quarters and moving down the hall, hoping that Obi-Wan is simply tucked in an alcove not far away.
"Obi-Wan is missing," he says before she can even greet him.
"When did you last see him?" Is her immediate response.
"An hour ago, when I left for my mind healing appointment." His eyes scan the hallway rapidly, looking for any hint of auburn hair or sandy tunics.
"In your rooms?"
"He's not here anymore. Tahl, he hasn't left our quarters in four months. I don't know where he could have gone."
"Have you checked your bond?"
Qui-Gon stops dead in his tracks. In his panic, he has forgotten his greatest ally. Some Jaieh he is. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to release some of the panic, then reaches for the fragile bond he has with his Padawan.
"He's alive," he says. "But I can't tell anything else. He's shielding from me. He feels… distant."
"I'll get Bant, she might know. Do we need to send out a Temple alert?"
"I don't know. I—" It could be that he's overreacting, but his mind is jumping to worst case scenarios. Even the best case ones are still enough to make him breathless with fear. Obi-Wan is alone and likely lost in Anohrah, a place that is their home, yes, and therefore relatively safe, but Obi-Wan is easily overwhelmed these days, terrified of most everything and everyone, and Qui-Gon can imagine him hurt and afraid so very clearly.
If they need help finding his Padawan, Qui-Gon does not want to waste time searching Anohrah by himself.
"Yes," he finally says.
"I'll comm Cin and Yoda."
By the time he reaches the end of the corridor, he has still not seen or sensed his Padawan. He turns back the other way.
Translations:
1. Jaieh- Master
2. Anohrah- the Jedi Temple
3. Jehxah- Knight
4. Padib- Initiate
5. Tonjaieh- Grandmaster
6. ikio'ah foh- I promise
7. Naah bika, taweju- Come here, please