Chapter Text
He woke up. That, in itself, was strange.
He was dead. He was one with the Force. It had been a long time since he last woke up.
He tried opening his eyes but there was only darkness. This was also unusual; the Force was always so full of light.
He wiggled his toes and that was outright terrifying. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a body.
He tried to blink but his eyes were heavy. His whole body felt like lead. That was absolutely not right.
He was dead. Happily, blissfully and wonderfully dead. He was one with the Force. His pain had finally ended. His existence had been nothing but infinite sadness, so forgive him if he was relieved when it ended. It had been over. Finito. Basta. No more. So, when he started to slowly peel his eyes open, he was pissed.
Had one life not been enough?
He thought he heard someone laugh. Their sense of humor was definitely moot. Waking up was not funny; it was traumatic. He probably would need therapy afterwards. He was being dramatic. Sue him. He had every damn right to be.
With a lot of effort, he was finally able to fully open his eyes and it was like coming out of darkness. The light was everywhere and it was blinding. He felt breath filling his lungs. He was not used to breathing anymore and he was not doing a good job at it. He started wheezing like a snake. So undignified. He really hoped that there was no one to witness the spectacle. He heard a voice shouting nearby. His wish had not been granted. He was so annoyed.
He heard commotion around him. He was still blinded by the light and the breathing thing was not going any better. In fact, he was starting to feel like he was suffocating.
Just great. Through some kind of strange phenomenon (Force osik as Cody and the Vode would have said) he was living again and now he was going to die because he forgot how to breath. Pathetic.
Suddenly he felt hands on him. How rude of them.
Someone put a mask on his face and oxygen was forced in his lungs who protested forcefully. He started coughing and he was feeling so nauseous.
Now, enough was enough. He had been a Jedi Master and a General for Force’s sake. He called the Force to him and to his relief it responded. He was able to get back some kind of control over his body. He felt his hands again and with great effort he wrenched the mask from his face and turned on his side.
The first thing he saw was a pair of strangely familiar boots.
Where had he seen them before? No time to think about it.
He emptied his stomach right on top of them. Someone let out an exclamation. He was sorry but not so sorry. It was their fault that they were cooperating to bring him back to life. He much rather would have stayed dead. Better death than the head splitting headache that he was starting to experience.
Trying to assess himself he was at least relieved to find that the breathing thing was starting to work again.
“Obi-Wan”, a voice was calling him. No one had called him with that name in a long time.
Hands took him by the shoulders and turned him around.
He was lying on a cot in a place that looked a lot like the Halls of Healing in the Jedi Temple. He recognized it by the ceiling. He would know, he woke there often enough. A light was shone in his eyes.
How rude. He tried to protest but only a gurgling sound escaped his lips. So, language was still not working. Good to know.
He blinked and the swimming face of one Vokara Che came into view. He blinked again but he immediately felt another bout of nausea. He tried to get up again. The hands that were holding him caught up with what he was trying to do and helped him. A bucket appeared out of nowhere in front of him just before he heaved again.
This whole waking up affair was absolutely unpleasant. Someone would pay for this. He would make sure of it. Revenge was not the Jedi way but he could make an exception.
He was panting and wheezing again like some sort of sick bantha. A hand was rubbing calming circles on his back. That was the first sensitive and useful think someone had done for him since waking up. He felt a warm Force presence reach out to him and push feelings of safe-comfort his way. He could appreciate that too. He clung to the presence like some sort of needy jungling but he was totally justified in his opinion. No need to be hard on himself now. His situation was dire enough.
His body shook one last time to emptying every last bit of his stomach (he honestly didn’t remember the last time he ate, but judging by the amount of food he was throwing up, he ate too much) and he finally started feeling a bit better.
Don’t get him wrong, the headache was still killing him (thank the Force he still had his sass), but he was breathing ok and felt more in control of his body.
That’s when he noticed his hands: they were tiny and smooth. He brought a hand to his face and felt his jaw. It was smooth too; he had no beard.
Someone had to be kidding him. He had a baby-face again. It took him years to first grow out his beard so that people would finally take him seriously. Now he would have to do it all again!
Oh,yes. Someone would pay for this.
The hands helped him to get settled against the pillows on the cot. He closed his eyes, releasing his irritation and distress in the Force. He took a deep breath, braced himself and opened his eyes.
So he had not imagined Vokara Che.
She real and she was now leaning over him and staring at him, unimpressed as always. He felt a touch of fondness for her. He always had a complicated relationship with medics (they were terrifying) but he had missed Vokara. He had considered her a friend before the end.
“Vo…ka…ra” he croaked. Yep, he still needed to work on his voice.
A glass was gently pressed against his lips and he took a few sips of water. The cool liquid felt like heaven running down his inflamed throat.
“That’s enough for now. I don’t want you to through that up too.”, said Vokara.
He didn’t trust his voice so he just nodded. Meanwhile Vokara was looking at a datapad in her hand and getting some reading from a machine at his right.
“Do you feel any pain?”, she asked.
He nodded and gestured towards his head which was still killing him. She shuffled around a bit and then a hypospray was pressed against his neck. He mumbled something intelligible in displeasure. Vokara was more unimpressed than before, she lifted an unimpressed eyebrow to make her point. He huffed in exasperation and turned his head a little.
That’s when he noticed for the first time that there was someone else with them in the room. He was displeased with himself and his lack of awareness of his environment. He could hear the voice of his old Master in his head: “Focus on the here and now Padawan”. He internally rolled his eyes.
He blinked and tried to focus on the other person with his senses and with the Force. His vision was still blurry but when he reached out with the Force he found a very familiar presence. His breath hitched.
“Ma…ster”, he rasped, voice full of emotion.
There, in front of him, the leonine features of his old Master Qui-Gon Jinn were frowning at him in concern. He drank in the sight of a younger Qui-Gon. His hair had not yet started to grey and the skin around his eyes was not as wrinkled as he remembered. He reached out for the bond and was surprised when he found it. It was a small and thin shimmering thread in his mind. It was not yet the thick and strong bond that they had shared at the end of his apprenticeship but it was there none the less. He gently poked at it and send over a sense of “It’s good to see you” and of “I missed you”.
Qui-Gon gasped in surprise and looked at him with wide eyes. He reached back and it was oh so careful as if he was testing the connection for the first time. Strange.
Vokara looked at them both. She really was hard to impress.
“Initiate Kenobi”, she said all business, “I gave you a pain killer and an anti-nausea. They should kick in in a minute.”
It took a great effort to stop staring at his Master and turn his head towards her.
“Thank you”, he whispered. She studied him with a piercing gaze.
“What do you remember?”, she asked him after a while.
“Being dead” he answered with a straight face. Vokara was definitely not impressed; she lifted both her eyebrows.
“Someone has a flair for the dramatic”
“I come only to serve.”
That earned him a scoff.
He was satisfied with himself. Sure, the effect was ruined a by his traitorous voice that made him sound like a hoarse tooka, but he still had his sass.
Vokara interrupted his musings.
“I will try this again. What is the last thing you remember?”
He hesitated.
“I don’t know”, he answered honestly.
Well, mostly honestly, because saying that he had been one with the Force was not an option at this time.
Vokara sighed but from her frown he could tell that she was a little concerned. It was sweet. He was getting sentimental.
Master Che looked at Master Jinn.
If looks could kill, her look would definitely have killed him or at least left him without a limb.
Master Jinn, wise man, tried to ignore her and was looking at the floor as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world.
Interesting. Obi-Wan was pretty sure that there was a story there. Now he was curious.
“What happened?”, he asked in the most innocent voice.
Master Jinn winced. He was leaking guilt through their bond.
Nice. He had hit a nerve.
Vokara was glaring daggers at his Master.
“Master Jinn, would you like to inform Initiate Kenobi of what happened?”
From Qui-Gon’s expression it was the last thing that he wanted to do. He took a deep breath trying to look all-Jedi-Master-like composed.
“We were in the changing rooms after the Initiate tournament. You had fought against initiate Chun…”
Ah, interesting, so it was the time before Qui-Gon became his master.
That explained his surprise at feeling the bond between them. He was starting to understand where this was getting.
Oh, this would be fun and Vokara was definitely on his side. He would take advantage of that.
“You had won the match and I had waited for you to…”, Master Jinn hesitated. Vokara looked at him expectantly. Obi-Wan was having the best time of his life (second life, sorry).
Master Jinn took a deep breath and avoiding any eye contact with Master Che spoke as fast as he could. A very mature approach for a Jedi Master if you ask Obi-Wan.
“I was telling you that, unfortunately, I can’t take you as my Padawan…”
Obi-Wan just stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate. He was savoring the moment.
Jinn looked pained. Good.
“… I was telling you why I couldn’t take you as my Padawan, when you suddenly fainted and started seizing”
Oh, interesting. The Force, it seemed, had a sense of humour. He couldn’t have timed that one better even if he tried. He definitely passed out in style.
Master Jinn was not having a good time.
Obi-Wan decided he would put him out of his misery and make it even worse.
“Ah, yes, now it’s coming back to me. You said that my fighting style was too aggressive and that I risked falling to the dark side, right?”
“Master Jinn, did you really tell that to an initiate who is about to age out?!”, Master Che was fuming.
“Yes, something like that”, Master Jinn mumbled.
“That is not how you treat initiates on my book. I will be having a word with the Council about that.”
Master Che was Obi-Wan’s new hero. He was still pissed for waking up, but at least he was getting a lot of payback for past hurts.
His head was clearer now and so he had a realization.
The boots! He had vomited on his Master’s boots. That’s why they had seemed familiar. He could still recall the endless lectures about the necessity to keep one’s boots clean and polished. The irony.
“I’m sorry”, he croaked, not doing any effort to sound less pathetic.
“What for, initiate?” Master Che asked inquisitively.
“I’m sorry for your boots, Master Jinn”
He was not really sorry. He was a bit smug. Just a bit.
Master Jinn looked surprised, he had probably forgotten about the boots.
Obi-Wan could understand him, Master Che was terrifying. Anyone would be distracted by that.
“It’s alright Initiate Kenobi”, Master Jinn said.
“Anyway, Master Jinn, about the other thing…”, Obi-Wan hesitated. He was most definitely not taking his time on purpose.
Master Jinn nodded encouraging.
“About you not taking me on as a Padawan…”.
Master Jinn looked as if he was bracing himself for something terrible for a second, then, the next moment, his serene Jedi Master facade was back.
“Yes, Initiate. Go on”, he said patiently.
Obi-Wan took a deep breath.
Was it necessary? No, it was just for the sake of the dramatic.
“I just wanted to tell you that it’s alright. I understand your reasoning and I thank you for your candor.”
Master Jinn just stared at him. His expression was priceless.
Maybe waking up was not so bad after all.
Master Jinn blinked.
Silence.
A beat.
A breath.
Another moment.
“What… really?”, Master Jinn said in the end, because the silence was getting too awkward.
Obi-Wan did his best to channel the calm and collected expression of his inner Jedi Master as he answered. It was really hard not to cackle.
“Yes, did you expect me to beg or to throw a fit?”
“Maybe?”
Obi-Wan slowly bowed his head.
“I apologize for giving you that impression”.
He knew that Qui-Gon would not choose him. He also knew that it had nothing to do with Obi-Wan himself. He had made peace with that notion long ago.
Qui-Gon didn’t feel ready to take a Padawan because he still felt as if Xanatos’Fall had partially been his fault.
After what happened with Anakin, Obi-Wan knew that brand of guilt and self-doubt intimately. Obi-Wan understood.
The only thing Qui-Gon could see when looking at a new apprentice was the shadow of the old one.
Obi-Wan had forgiven his Master. Looking at Qui-Gon now, he didn’t see the man that had looked larger than life to him when he was young, he saw a broken man who was still trying to put together all the pieces. A man who was still unable to move on.
“It’s ok, really. I understand.”, Obi-Wan said and he meant it.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he added, ”I would love to be your Padawan and I think that whomever you choose as your apprentice will be very lucky.”, he paused.
He knew that he had been lucky to have Qui-Gon as his Master. He had loved him as a father in the end. That’s why Obi-Wan would let his Master go this time.
“But you have no obligation towards me. Though I suspect that Master Yoda might have spoken to you on my behalf”, his words were beginning to slur a bit.
Obi-Wan was starting to feel drowsy and he found that he had to fight to keep his eyes open, but this was important. He needed to stay conscious just for a while longer. He wanted to set Qui-Gon free, even if that meant never being his Padawan. He wanted Qui-Gon to heal, to forgive himself. He tried to push his sincerity through the bond. And if he also send over some affection, he could be forgiven. He was, after all, a child who was not well and was in the Halls of Healing.
He felt surprise from Master Jinn in response and something that felt like a soft ‘thank you’. But he could be wrong, he was starting not to feel like quite himself.
“Vokara”, he croaked, “I don’t feel so good”.
Vokara sighed, “You are exhausted, Initiate Kenobi”.
“You don’t tell, really?”, he sassed back.
She shook her head in exasperation and shot Master Jinn a look, as if it was all his fault.
The man, wisely, avoided making eye contact.
Obi-Wan chuckled at their antics. It was so good to see them both well and alive. At the thought he felt both fondness and heartbreak.
A lone and traitorous tear escaped his eye.
“You should get some sleep”, Vokara told him.
“I will sleep when I’m dead”.
Vokara frowned at him in concern. She clearly didn’t get the joke. What a shame.
“Sleep”, she told him, and this time it was infused with a strong Force suggestion.
Before losing consciousness, he thought he felt another familiar presence push a wave of comfort and an almost fond 'sleep well’, his way.
He could be wrong.
He would figure it out if he wasn’t dead the next time he woke up.