Bleed Just To Know You're Alive. 1/?.
Period: Post-ROTS.
Rating: PG-13.
Genre: Angst, with a bit of humor thrown in for balance. Star Wars is all about balance, after all.
Keyword: Brotherhood, friendship, reconciliation.
Summary: The Emperor is dead, Darth Vader no more. On Coruscant Obi-Wan Kenobi struggles to build the Jedi Order anew, but he is haunted by nightmares he can't remember and a past he wishes he could forget. Desperate for answers and some kind of peace, he sets out to find the only one who might possily offer it - if he is willing.
Warnings: Possible mentions of self-injury later on.
“Ow!” The Togrutan youth howled in pain as the glowing blade of the training saber raised an angry red welt on her left wrist. Her teeth bared, she lunged forward with her weapon raised to strike at her opponent. “I’ll get you for that!”
“No.” With a subtle flick of his hand, Obi-Wan used the Force to separate the two combatants by pushing them to either side of the circle painted on the floor. The human boy, who at thirteen was two years older than his fellow Jedi initiate, looked relieved, but the Togrutan glared at Obi-Wan.
“The fight wasn’t over yet,” she said.
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “On the contrary. It was over. And you lost.”
“Because he did this?” She held up her hand for inspection. “Wasn’t even my saber hand. I could still have beaten him.”
“Perhaps. But you still lost.” Seeing her incomprehension, he sighed. “You lost the fight because you lost your temper.”
She crossed her arms over her thin chest, her anger now mixed with something akin to contempt. “That’s stupid.”
“No, young one, that is the Jedi way.” He eyed the both youngsters gravely. “Fear, anger, aggression - those are of the Dark Side. A Jedi must be serene, focused. A Jedi must let go of his emotions and listen to the Force.”
The boy nodded, but the young female still looked rebellious. “I - “ she began, but Obi-Wan interrupted her with a gesture.
“No,” he said. “No more arguments. I want you both to go to your rooms and meditate on the Jedi Code.” He paused. “We will discuss your thoughts on it tomorrow.”
“Yes, master,” the boy squealed, then blushed. He had just reached puberty and one could never be sure if his voice would be that of a grown man or a little boy when he spoke. The Togrutan said nothing at all, just marched past Obi-Wan out of the training hall. Looking vaguely embarrassed, the boy followed her after offering a quick bow to the bearded Jedi Master.
Obi-Wan waited until he was quite sure that they were gone, and then he closed his eyes, leaning against the cold wall, allowing himself a rare moment of resignation. Force, he was so tired -
“Rough session?”
He started at the voice. Looking up, he found Quinlan Vos standing in the doorway. “Oh, it’s you,” Obi-Wan muttered, possibly sounding a tad more testy than he had intended. “Do you really need to cloak your presence in the Temple?”
“Don’t like people sneaking up on you? Up to something nefarious in here, were you?”
Obi-Wan straightened from the wall and laughed mirthlessly. “Hardly. I just find it somewhat rude.”
“Sorry.” Quinlans grin contradicted his statement. “So, was it?”
“What was what?”
“The session. Rough. You look like you’ve been trampled by a bantha,” he added, studying the other with a slight frown on his face. “You haven’t been, have you?”
“Not recently, no. And as for the training session, it was… “ He hesitated. “I guess you could call it rough.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Haven’t you got a wife and son to go home to?” Adjusting his cloak, Obi-Wan headed for the door. Quinlan stepped aside to let him pass, then fell into step with him as they walked down the brightly lit corridor.
“You know Khaleen and I aren’t married.” Quinlan had been about to leave the order to take care of his soon-to-be-born son when Order 66 was executed. Through luck and skill he had survived, and when the Jedi returned to Coruscant after Palpatine’s death he had showed up, offering to help ‘sort things out’, though he had made it quite clear that he would not leave his child or the mother. Of course, in accordance with the new Jedi policy concerning families, he was not required to. Now Quinlan’s eyes narrowed as he gave Obi-Wan a sideway glance. “You don’t approve, do you?”
Obi-Wan shook his head. “About you not being married? Don’t be silly, Quin, really, I - “
“Not about the not-married part. About the living together. About Korto. About us, you know, loving each other.”
“Does it matter whether I approve of it or not?” Obi-Wan forced his voice to remain light, offering Quinlan a small smile, which the other returned with a shrug.
“I’m not gonna leave her just because you don’t like it, no. But… “ Again, he hesitated. “You’re my friend, Obi-Wan. I would hate to lose you.”
“You won’t. You wouldn’t, even if… attachments were against the rules.”
That provoked another wide grin. “Who would have figured Yoda would soften in his old age?”
Obi-Wan shook his head once more. He seemed to be doing that a lot these days. “He has not softened. But he has come to believe that not allowing Jedi to have families was a mistake.”
“Yeah. And that, old friend, is what you disapprove of, isn’t it?”
Obi-Wan suddenly stopped and spun around to face Quinlan. When he spoke, his voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper. “I’ve only known two Jedi to father children while still in the order. And both of them fell, Quinlan. You and - “ He didn’t finish the sentence, just turned around and started up the stairs leading to the Council chamber.
“Hey,” he heard Quinlan call after him. “We both turned back, didn’t we?”
---
Obi-Wan woke up with a start, a scream dying on his lips. For a moment he remained motionless on his back. Except for his own shallow breathing not a sound was to be heard in the dark room.
Another nightmare. Or at least he thought so. Why else would his heart beat as were it trying to hammer its way out of his chest? Why else would his forehead be bathed in sweat, and why else would there be tears streaming down his cheeks?
But he couldn’t remember his dream. He never could. Every night he would wake up, despair coursing through his body, an icy sensation that tasted of could have been and too late. For minutes, he would just lie there, trying to understand what could have cause such a stoic Jedi as himself to wake up in tears.
But he never remembered. Mostly, he was grateful for it.
---
“Troubled you are, Master Kenobi.”
He wanted to deny it. Perhaps if he denied it fiercely enough, it would no longer be true. Our focus determines our reality, that was what Qui-Gon had told him over and over again, a lifetime ago. If it was so, shouldn’t he be able to focus on the training of new apprentices and on the restoration of the decimated Jedi Order? Focus on that, only that, and all the rest - the nightmares and the memories, his guilt and his grief - would simply… cease to be.
If only.
Obi-Wan turned away from the window to face the ancient Master perched on a padded stool. “Yes, Master Yoda. I believe I am.”
Yoda said nothing, simply gazed at him with yellow eyes, old and wise and unreadable. There was a long pause before Obi-Wan spoke again. “I realize that I am needed here, Master. So few of us remain, and there are younglings to be trained, and the Senate to support, and everywhere in our war ravaged galaxy planets and civilizations cry out for Jedi’s aid… I know this. I know my duty.” He fell silent again, unsure of how to phrase his request, explain it so that the Grand Master might understand. Might respect it. Might grant it.
Yoda sighed heavily, tapping his cane against the floor. “Your duty, it is here. To the Order. To the Republic. Know this, you do. Know that know this you do, I do. Always mindful of your duty, have you been, Obi-Wan. And yet... leave us, you would?”
“Only for a short while… “
“How long a short while is? A day, a week, a month?” Tap, tap, tap, went the cane against the tiled floor.
“I don’t know,” he was forced to admit. “But, Master, I… “ He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. I am not fit to be a teacher, he might have said. Perhaps not even to be a Jedi, not anymore. I am confused. I am angry. I am tired.
I don’t know what I am. And how can someone so lost serve as a guide to others?
But those were not the words his training had prepared him to utter. “I am sorry for bothering you, Master Yoda. I shall return to my duties.”
He had already bowed and turned to leave, when Yoda called out. “Master Kenobi!” The diminutive Jedi had hopped down from his stool, and walked up to his younger colleague. “A wise man, you are. A great Jedi. Trust in your judgment I do, though trust yourself you do not. If you say that need to leave you do, trust in that I will.”
Obi-Wan blinked. “I… Thank you, Master.” He bowed again.
“Sure are you that do this you want to?” A hint of warning had crept into the old Master’s voice. “What you find… what you look for, it might not be.”
“I know. As for what I want… “ He shrugged helplessly. “I need to do this.”
Yoda nodded. “Very well. Then go, Master Kenobi. Go, so that return you might.”
---
Obi-Wan told no one of his leaving, but he went to see the children before he left. At only fourteen months, they were still living in the crèche with the very youngest of the initiates. As Obi-Wan paused in the hallway outside of the dayroom, he could hear brother and sister talking in a strange and high-pitched language known only to the two of them.
He did not enter, but stayed in the hallway. Through the open door he could see Leia stumble around the room with a pink bantha clutched to her chest. Luke was sitting on the floor, waving his arms around excitedly, obviously explaining something very important to his twin sister. Golden sunlight fell through the large windows, shimmered in Luke’s ruffled hair, was reflected in Leia’s brown eyes.
Obi-Wan watched them for another moment, both endlessly comforted and heartbreakingly saddened by their innocence and simple happiness. I never knew Anakin to be this innocent. This happy. Never knew him to be a child.
But I’ll tell him of you, he silently vowed. I’ll tell him of your beauty and your light, and how your laugh sounds just like his must have done, Luke. Leia, I’ll let him know that you have his chin and his nose.
I’ll tell him when I find him.
---
Chapter 2: The Long and Winding Road
Rating: PG-13.
Genre: Angst, with a bit of humor thrown in for balance. Star Wars is all about balance, after all.
Keyword: Brotherhood, friendship, reconciliation.
Summary: The Emperor is dead, Darth Vader no more. On Coruscant Obi-Wan Kenobi struggles to build the Jedi Order anew, but he is haunted by nightmares he can't remember and a past he wishes he could forget. Desperate for answers and some kind of peace, he sets out to find the only one who might possily offer it - if he is willing.
Warnings: Possible mentions of self-injury later on.
“Ow!” The Togrutan youth howled in pain as the glowing blade of the training saber raised an angry red welt on her left wrist. Her teeth bared, she lunged forward with her weapon raised to strike at her opponent. “I’ll get you for that!”
“No.” With a subtle flick of his hand, Obi-Wan used the Force to separate the two combatants by pushing them to either side of the circle painted on the floor. The human boy, who at thirteen was two years older than his fellow Jedi initiate, looked relieved, but the Togrutan glared at Obi-Wan.
“The fight wasn’t over yet,” she said.
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “On the contrary. It was over. And you lost.”
“Because he did this?” She held up her hand for inspection. “Wasn’t even my saber hand. I could still have beaten him.”
“Perhaps. But you still lost.” Seeing her incomprehension, he sighed. “You lost the fight because you lost your temper.”
She crossed her arms over her thin chest, her anger now mixed with something akin to contempt. “That’s stupid.”
“No, young one, that is the Jedi way.” He eyed the both youngsters gravely. “Fear, anger, aggression - those are of the Dark Side. A Jedi must be serene, focused. A Jedi must let go of his emotions and listen to the Force.”
The boy nodded, but the young female still looked rebellious. “I - “ she began, but Obi-Wan interrupted her with a gesture.
“No,” he said. “No more arguments. I want you both to go to your rooms and meditate on the Jedi Code.” He paused. “We will discuss your thoughts on it tomorrow.”
“Yes, master,” the boy squealed, then blushed. He had just reached puberty and one could never be sure if his voice would be that of a grown man or a little boy when he spoke. The Togrutan said nothing at all, just marched past Obi-Wan out of the training hall. Looking vaguely embarrassed, the boy followed her after offering a quick bow to the bearded Jedi Master.
Obi-Wan waited until he was quite sure that they were gone, and then he closed his eyes, leaning against the cold wall, allowing himself a rare moment of resignation. Force, he was so tired -
“Rough session?”
He started at the voice. Looking up, he found Quinlan Vos standing in the doorway. “Oh, it’s you,” Obi-Wan muttered, possibly sounding a tad more testy than he had intended. “Do you really need to cloak your presence in the Temple?”
“Don’t like people sneaking up on you? Up to something nefarious in here, were you?”
Obi-Wan straightened from the wall and laughed mirthlessly. “Hardly. I just find it somewhat rude.”
“Sorry.” Quinlans grin contradicted his statement. “So, was it?”
“What was what?”
“The session. Rough. You look like you’ve been trampled by a bantha,” he added, studying the other with a slight frown on his face. “You haven’t been, have you?”
“Not recently, no. And as for the training session, it was… “ He hesitated. “I guess you could call it rough.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Haven’t you got a wife and son to go home to?” Adjusting his cloak, Obi-Wan headed for the door. Quinlan stepped aside to let him pass, then fell into step with him as they walked down the brightly lit corridor.
“You know Khaleen and I aren’t married.” Quinlan had been about to leave the order to take care of his soon-to-be-born son when Order 66 was executed. Through luck and skill he had survived, and when the Jedi returned to Coruscant after Palpatine’s death he had showed up, offering to help ‘sort things out’, though he had made it quite clear that he would not leave his child or the mother. Of course, in accordance with the new Jedi policy concerning families, he was not required to. Now Quinlan’s eyes narrowed as he gave Obi-Wan a sideway glance. “You don’t approve, do you?”
Obi-Wan shook his head. “About you not being married? Don’t be silly, Quin, really, I - “
“Not about the not-married part. About the living together. About Korto. About us, you know, loving each other.”
“Does it matter whether I approve of it or not?” Obi-Wan forced his voice to remain light, offering Quinlan a small smile, which the other returned with a shrug.
“I’m not gonna leave her just because you don’t like it, no. But… “ Again, he hesitated. “You’re my friend, Obi-Wan. I would hate to lose you.”
“You won’t. You wouldn’t, even if… attachments were against the rules.”
That provoked another wide grin. “Who would have figured Yoda would soften in his old age?”
Obi-Wan shook his head once more. He seemed to be doing that a lot these days. “He has not softened. But he has come to believe that not allowing Jedi to have families was a mistake.”
“Yeah. And that, old friend, is what you disapprove of, isn’t it?”
Obi-Wan suddenly stopped and spun around to face Quinlan. When he spoke, his voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper. “I’ve only known two Jedi to father children while still in the order. And both of them fell, Quinlan. You and - “ He didn’t finish the sentence, just turned around and started up the stairs leading to the Council chamber.
“Hey,” he heard Quinlan call after him. “We both turned back, didn’t we?”
---
Obi-Wan woke up with a start, a scream dying on his lips. For a moment he remained motionless on his back. Except for his own shallow breathing not a sound was to be heard in the dark room.
Another nightmare. Or at least he thought so. Why else would his heart beat as were it trying to hammer its way out of his chest? Why else would his forehead be bathed in sweat, and why else would there be tears streaming down his cheeks?
But he couldn’t remember his dream. He never could. Every night he would wake up, despair coursing through his body, an icy sensation that tasted of could have been and too late. For minutes, he would just lie there, trying to understand what could have cause such a stoic Jedi as himself to wake up in tears.
But he never remembered. Mostly, he was grateful for it.
---
“Troubled you are, Master Kenobi.”
He wanted to deny it. Perhaps if he denied it fiercely enough, it would no longer be true. Our focus determines our reality, that was what Qui-Gon had told him over and over again, a lifetime ago. If it was so, shouldn’t he be able to focus on the training of new apprentices and on the restoration of the decimated Jedi Order? Focus on that, only that, and all the rest - the nightmares and the memories, his guilt and his grief - would simply… cease to be.
If only.
Obi-Wan turned away from the window to face the ancient Master perched on a padded stool. “Yes, Master Yoda. I believe I am.”
Yoda said nothing, simply gazed at him with yellow eyes, old and wise and unreadable. There was a long pause before Obi-Wan spoke again. “I realize that I am needed here, Master. So few of us remain, and there are younglings to be trained, and the Senate to support, and everywhere in our war ravaged galaxy planets and civilizations cry out for Jedi’s aid… I know this. I know my duty.” He fell silent again, unsure of how to phrase his request, explain it so that the Grand Master might understand. Might respect it. Might grant it.
Yoda sighed heavily, tapping his cane against the floor. “Your duty, it is here. To the Order. To the Republic. Know this, you do. Know that know this you do, I do. Always mindful of your duty, have you been, Obi-Wan. And yet... leave us, you would?”
“Only for a short while… “
“How long a short while is? A day, a week, a month?” Tap, tap, tap, went the cane against the tiled floor.
“I don’t know,” he was forced to admit. “But, Master, I… “ He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. I am not fit to be a teacher, he might have said. Perhaps not even to be a Jedi, not anymore. I am confused. I am angry. I am tired.
I don’t know what I am. And how can someone so lost serve as a guide to others?
But those were not the words his training had prepared him to utter. “I am sorry for bothering you, Master Yoda. I shall return to my duties.”
He had already bowed and turned to leave, when Yoda called out. “Master Kenobi!” The diminutive Jedi had hopped down from his stool, and walked up to his younger colleague. “A wise man, you are. A great Jedi. Trust in your judgment I do, though trust yourself you do not. If you say that need to leave you do, trust in that I will.”
Obi-Wan blinked. “I… Thank you, Master.” He bowed again.
“Sure are you that do this you want to?” A hint of warning had crept into the old Master’s voice. “What you find… what you look for, it might not be.”
“I know. As for what I want… “ He shrugged helplessly. “I need to do this.”
Yoda nodded. “Very well. Then go, Master Kenobi. Go, so that return you might.”
---
Obi-Wan told no one of his leaving, but he went to see the children before he left. At only fourteen months, they were still living in the crèche with the very youngest of the initiates. As Obi-Wan paused in the hallway outside of the dayroom, he could hear brother and sister talking in a strange and high-pitched language known only to the two of them.
He did not enter, but stayed in the hallway. Through the open door he could see Leia stumble around the room with a pink bantha clutched to her chest. Luke was sitting on the floor, waving his arms around excitedly, obviously explaining something very important to his twin sister. Golden sunlight fell through the large windows, shimmered in Luke’s ruffled hair, was reflected in Leia’s brown eyes.
Obi-Wan watched them for another moment, both endlessly comforted and heartbreakingly saddened by their innocence and simple happiness. I never knew Anakin to be this innocent. This happy. Never knew him to be a child.
But I’ll tell him of you, he silently vowed. I’ll tell him of your beauty and your light, and how your laugh sounds just like his must have done, Luke. Leia, I’ll let him know that you have his chin and his nose.
I’ll tell him when I find him.
---
Chapter 2: The Long and Winding Road