Chapter Text
Obi-Wan still feels the phantom press of the collar around his neck. He touches his throat, even though the skin stings, leftover pain from being shocked. The pain is good. It means he’s alive. He almost wasn’t. If Master Jinn hadn’t found another way, Obi-Wan would have sacrificed himself to save the others.
His sacrifice wasn’t needed. They escaped Xanatos’s trap and even chased him down. There was another trap, more bombs. Master Jinn offered Xanatos help if he’d return to the Temple. He begged, and Obi-Wan knew that Master Jinn would even have taken Xanatos back as a padawan if it would have helped. Xanatos spat on the offer of peace, of forgiveness. He leapt down a mineshaft and ignited the bombs. The mine shaft collapsed. Obi-Wan felt Xanatos die.
Master Jinn hasn’t spoken since.
Obi-Wan gets them to the spaceport. He takes the credit chip out of Master Jinn’s pocket and buys them passage back to Coruscant. He isn’t sure what will happen to him when they return. Will he be given a new posting? Sent back to Bandomeer? Master Jinn told him, after the bomb collar, that Obi-Wan would make a good Jedi. His eyes, pinched, pained, as he repeated that he couldn’t be the one to train Obi-Wan.
After meeting Xanatos, Obi-Wan understands. Master Jinn’s last padawan embraced the darkside of the Force. And now he’s dead. Obi-Wan isn’t sure how Master Jinn feels about it. His mind is protected by a thick layer of ice, his emotions muted, numb. Obi-Wan settles Master Jinn in the cramped quarters they’ll share on the way home.
Master Jinn sits on the bed. He stares at the wall. Wherever his mind takes him, Obi-Wan can’t follow or draw him out. At mealtimes, Obi-Wan goes to the galley to eat his portion and he brings Master Jinn’s back to their quarters.
At night, Obi-Wan is cold. He shivers and it reminds him of the mines. He wakes up clawing his throat and he has to scrub the blood from under his fingernails.
On the second night, shivers give way to sweats. Obi-Wan’s skin is too tight, too hot, and he whimpers as he tries to find his way to the oblivion of sleep. How long was he in the mines? Long enough for the whips to cut up his back. Long enough for the damp to get in. His wounds must be infected.
He isn’t sure if he can trust anyone on the transport to help him. If the other passengers realize both Obi-Wan and Master Jinn are easy targets, they won’t make it to Coruscant. Obi-Wan won’t be kidnapped again. He won’t be enslaved.
He touches his neck. The sting grounds him in the present moment.
#
Lack of sleep or, perhaps, delirium from the fever, leaves Obi-Wan unsteady on his feet as he tugs on Master Jinn’s sleeve. They docked on Coruscant. Obi-Wan can’t carry Master Jinn, so he hopes the man moves.
He does.
Master Jinn stands. He strides out of their quarters and off the ship, his stride long and purposeful. Obi-Wan stumbles as he rushes to keep up. His lips are chapped. His eyes burn. He wants to close his eyes, but he can’t. Not yet. Not until they’re in the Temple, and he’s safe.
It’s late on Coruscant. There’s only one guard posted at the Temple entrance. They greet Master Jinn, who doesn’t respond. They look at Obi-Wan, concerned, and Obi-Wan hurries after Master Jinn before the guard can bar Obi-Wan’s entry.
The Temple looms large at night. Shadows stretch across the walls. They twist until they look like Xanatos. They taunt Obi-Wan for returning where he isn’t wanted. Master Jinn wanted Xanatos. Even Fallen, even drunk on power and mad in his cruelty, he was wanted. How terrible must Obi-Wan be that he has been rejected?
The shadows shift into Bruck. Calls of Oafy-Wan follow him down the hall.
They reach Master Jinn’s quarters, and Obi-Wan follows the man inside. Master Jinn hasn’t spoken to Obi-Wan or even acknowledged him. Obi-Wan knows it would be weird to follow Master Jinn into his bedroom, but there’s a couch in the living room which is more than serviceable. Without waiting for permission, Obi-Wan drops down onto the piece of furniture.
The low lights on the walls are enough for Obi-Wan to see shapes in the dark, but he doesn’t know the color of his bed tonight. He doesn’t need to know it. It’s soft. If he’s careful, he can sleep on his side, his back protected by but not touching the back of the couch.
It isn’t until Obi-Wan hears a startled voice that he realizes this isn’t Master Jinn’s room.
“For fuck’s sake, Qui-Gon!” Master Windu’s voice is loud, frightened and a little angry, as if he’s been startled out of his sleep. “What are you doing skulking in my quarters at this hour? Aren’t you on a mission? What’s so important it couldn’t wait for your report? And if it’s that important, why didn’t you send a written report ahead of your arrival?”
Obi-Wan is in Master Windu’s quarters. He pushes himself into a sitting position on the couch. He is an unknown guest here. He might even be unwelcome. He can’t sleep. Not yet. Tears sting his eyes, but he isn’t sure if they’re from pain or exhaustion.
“He’s dead, Mace.”
“What?” Master Windu’s voice softens, reacting to Master Jinn’s state of mind. Obi-Wan wonders if Master Windu is able to sense more of Master Jinn’s emotions than Obi-Wan was able to. He hopes so. Master Jinn needs help, and Obi-Wan wasn’t able to offer it.
“He’s dead,” Master Jinn repeats. His voice breaks and it’s like a dam cracking. Obi-Wan feels the rush of emotions. It’s staggering, and he finds himself sideways on the couch again. It’s too much effort to move so he stays where he is, head resting on the arm of the couch.
“Who’s dead?” Master Windu asks. “Qui-Gon, what happened on Bandomeer?”
“It was a trap. He wanted me there. He planned for it. He wanted to hurt me. He blames me for the loss of his father, so he wanted to take a son from me in revenge. And he did.” Master Jinn chokes, his words thick with tears. “I tried to help him, Mace. He preferred to die. Threw himself down a mineshaft into a trap he had set for me.”
“Xanatos?” Master Windu asks. “He was on Bandomeer?”
“He was behind Offworld Mining. He wasn’t the only one there.”
“Who else was on Bandomeer?”
Obi-Wan wonders if this is considered eavesdropping, and if he’ll be punished for it. His back throbs, his wounds hot and angry. He covers his ears with his hands, but he can still hear Master Jinn’s answer.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
“Kenobi?” Master Windu’s surprise rings loudly in the Force. “Why? As a new AgriCorps initiate, he should be sent to the central hub, not to—fuck. I know why. Do you?”
“He deserves to be a padawan, Mace,” Master Jinn says. Obi-Wan’s heart soars even as he tries to convince himself that he shouldn’t get his hopes up. Master Jinn has already said he can’t train him, and Obi-Wan understands why. No one had wanted him before. Why would that change now? He’s broken. If he was dark before, what must his soul be like after being tainted by Xanatos?
“Is he still on Bandomeer?” Master Windu asks.
“He was pushing me to take Obi-Wan as a padawan. I’m the reason he was on The Monument. The reason he was on Bandomeer. Mace—he was brave. Terrible things happened to him, and he remained good. He saved me. More than once. And he saved countless others. Bandomeer itself. He deserves to be a Jedi, but I can’t train him.”
“And you won’t,” Master Windu says. “Asking for help is difficult. You’ll be given the help you need, not more responsibility. But, Qui-Gon, where is the boy now?”
Obi-Wan whimpers. He can sense the two men in the other room go still and then they’re both rushing into the living room. Master Windu raises the lights to thirty-percent. It’s light enough to see, but it doesn’t hurt Obi-Wan’s eyes. He blinks at the two men, who seem to tower over him like giants from where he’s prone on the couch.
Master Windu is in a pair sleep pants, soft, with a drawstring to hold them up. He isn’t wearing a shirt. Obi-Wan feels vaguely like he’s done something wrong, seeing a Council member in their pajamas. He closes his eyes out of respect.
“Force take me,” Master Windu swears. Obi-Wan tries to cover his ears again. He shouldn’t hear a Council member swear. And Master Windu isn’t just a Council member. He’s the Head of the Order. “Both of you are going to the Halls of Healing. Let me throw a robe on and we’ll go. Do not argue with me, Qui-Gon.”
Master Jinn doesn’t argue. He kneels next to Obi-Wan and makes a wounded noise as if he’s realizing how hurt Obi-Wan is. Master Jinn’s eyes are glassy with tears. His face is splotchy and red. His mind is like an open wound, bleeding out.
“I didn’t notice,” Master Jinn whispers. Guilt threatens to overwhelm everything else he’s feeling. “I was so caught up in myself that—”
“The safety video,” Obi-Wan says, because they showed it before The Monument lifted off from Coruscant. “You have to put your own breathing mask on first.” Master Jinn is hurting too, and he’s hurting too much to be able to help anyone else. “You brought me to Master Windu. And he’s going to bring us to the healers. We’re going to be okay.”
“That’s right,” Master Windu says. He’s thrown a robe over his sleep pants, and it makes him look like a Councilor again. He rests a hand on Qui-Gon’s shoulder, as if lending him the strength to stand again. “You need to heal before you can help others, Qui-Gon. You’ve done what you needed to, you’ve sought help. Now, accept it.”
Master Jinn stands up. “Thank you, Mace. I’ll go ahead and warn the healers to expect a second. I’ll move faster on my own. Obi-Wan is—” Master Jinn winces—“in a lot of pain.”
At Master Windu’s nod, Master Jinn leaves the room. Obi-Wan, still propped up on his side, wonders how he’s going to find the energy not only to stand but to walk all the way to the healers. Before, he had to move because he wasn’t safe yet. But he’s safe here on Master Windu’s couch. He can rest. There’s no one who needs him.
“Not quite true, Obi-Wan,” Master Windu says gently. “You still need you. You have done a good job getting yourself and Master Jinn back to the Temple. May I help you the rest of the way?”
Master Windu holds his arms out, his meaning clear. He intends to carry Obi-Wan to the healers. Shame heats Obi-Wan’s cheeks, but it isn’t the reason he shakes his head. He shakes his head, because he can’t imagine anyone touching his back right now.
“Arms around my neck and legs around my waist,” Master Windu says. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”
It’s even more embarrassing to be carried like this, as if Obi-Wan’s a crecheling, but it won’t hurt, at least. He shuffles forward until he can plaster himself against Master Windu’s front. Without a hint of exertion, Master Windu stands, easily carrying Obi-Wan’s weight. Obi-Wan tucks his face against Master Windu’s neck.
Master Windu smells soothing, like the tea the healers recommend for anxious padawans or those who have trouble sleeping. It’s earthy but with a hint of something floral. He also smells like soap, like he had splashed some water on his face, maybe needing help waking up after Master Jinn’s interruption.
“I’m tired,” Obi-Wan mumbles.
“I know,” Master Windu says. “You’ll be able to sleep soon. I want you to talk to the healers first, so they can help your body begin to heal while you sleep. It sounds like you have had a busy month.”
“A month?” Obi-Wan asks. Had it been that long? Or, rather, had it been so short? When he was in the mines, time stretched forever. Days didn’t have any meaning when they were underground. Obi-Wan stopped counting meals or bunk time, because it didn’t matter. All that mattered was keeping his head down. Being as perfect as he could be, so he didn’t attract attention or earn himself a punishment.
He was never good enough.
His back throbs to remind him. He’s mortified when he realizes his tears wet Master Windu’s neck. He twists to wipe his eyes against his shoulder. He does the same with his nose. Master Windu tells him it’s alright, but Obi-Wan knows it isn’t. He’s making a mess. That’s a good way to be punished.
Master Jinn had just told Master Windu that Obi-Wan deserves to be a Jedi, to have a second chance, but Master Jinn didn’t see Obi-Wan in the mines. He didn’t see all of Obi-Wan’s mistakes. He’s slow. He’s lazy. He doesn’t pull his own weight. He—
“We’re here,” Master Windu says, his voice gently breaking through Obi-Wan’s thoughts. “Healer Che, I've brought you a patient. Please be careful of his back, it’s causing him some distress.”
“What happened?” Healer Che asks. “My other patient didn’t have a lot of details. There’s a bed right here, Mace. You can set him down.”
Master Windu sits Obi-Wan on a med-bed. For a moment, Obi-Wan clings to the comfort of the other man, but he forces himself to let him go. He wipes his nose on his sleeve again, and Healer Che tsks her tongue before she sets a box of tissues next to him.
The Halls of Healing are brighter than Master Windu’s room had been, but they’re dim enough that Obi-Wan doesn’t have to squint. He wonders if his eyes adjusted to the mines in Bandomeer. How long until he adjusts again to normal light?
“I know only a little more than you,” Master Windu says. “Initiate Kenobi was assigned to the AgriCorps and ended up on Bandomeer. Qui-Gon mentioned an encounter with a dark Jedi that ended poorly.”
“That doesn’t help me,” Healer Che says. She’s an intimidating woman. Obi-Wan’s wary of all healers, because every time he comes to the Halls, they want to jab him with things or scold him. She’s the Chief Healer, so he’s never had to see her personally. He fidgets under her gaze. When she raises her penlight to look at his neck, he flinches and wants to hide.
“Scratches and, beneath those, electroburns.” Healer Che clicks her light off. She moves until she’s in Obi-Wan’s line of vision, and he can look at her without having to move. “Obi-Wan Kenobi, did you have a shock collar around your neck at any point on your time on Bandomeer?”
Obi-Wan nods. He swings his feet. Remembers all the lessons on how it is important to be truthful with the healers. They can’t help if they don’t know what’s wrong. “Shock collar. Bomb collar. Force suppressor.”
Healer Che’s expression doesn’t change, but Obi-Wan can feel the spike of alarm from Master Windu.
“I was kidnapped,” Obi-Wan says. He takes a tissue out of the box and presses it against his eyes. “I was put in the mines. The overseer hurt me when I was slow. The other miners—I was new and little and slow. They hurt me sometimes, too. Or took my food. But Xanatos was the worst.”
Healer Che holds up a pair of blunted scissors. “I’m going to cut your tunics away while you tell me more about Xanatos. I want to see your back.”
Obi-Wan nods, even though healers don’t need permission. “He wanted to use me to hurt Master Jinn. He thought I was Master Jinn’s padawan. He didn’t believe me when I told him I wasn’t.” Obi-Wan winces as his clothes fall away and cool air brushes his back. “What he did in the end hurt Master Jinn more than anything he could have done to me.”
“What did he do?” Healer Che asks. She moves around behind him and shows Obi-Wan the disinfectant before she starts tending to the lash marks on his back.
Obi-Wan hisses at the first sting of pain. He flinches away before he forces himself to hold still. His wounds are infected, and they have to be cleaned. Fresh tears well in his eyes. He presses the tissue to them again. “He killed himself. I felt it.” Obi-Wan turns so he can look at Healer Che, because he knows she’ll understand. “You’ve felt a Jedi die before.” She’s a healer and, he won’t say it out loud, but she’s old. She has to have felt death at some point. Right?
Healer Che’s expression softens, a mix of sympathy and pity. “I have. I’m sorry you had to feel that, Obi-Wan. I’m going to set up sessions with you and Healer Peg’ae, one of our mind healers. There is a lot that happened to you that you should talk to someone about. I will help your body heal, and Healer Peg’ae will help your mind heal.”
“Will someone help Master Jinn?” Obi-Wan asks softly. “He’s hurting too.”
“Master Jinn will receive the help he needs,” Healer Che promises. “After I finish disinfecting your back, I’m going to put a salve on the wounds. The salve needs to dry before you can put a healing gown on. I’m going to finish my initial examination, and then you can sleep. Is there anything else you would like to tell me now?”
I’m slow. I’m stupid. I don’t belong here. If Master Jinn is sick, can his opinion be trusted? Will the Council examine my mind and send me away again?
Obi-Wan shakes his head.
“There is one thing I would like to do, with your permission, Healer Che.” Master Windu exchanges a look with the healer. Some kind of unspoken communication passes between them, and Healer Che gives a curt nod. She finishes Obi-Wan’s back and then steps aside so Master Windu has Obi-Wan’s full attention.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi, will you accept my teaching and mentorship on your journey to becoming a Jedi?” Master Windu asks.
Obi-Wan’s eyes are too dry to tear up again, but he feels as though he’s crying. He nods and manages a soft, grateful, “Yes.”
Master Windu smiles. “Then may I be the first to congratulate you, Padawan Kenobi. I’m afraid your first few nights as my apprentice will be spent in the Halls of Healing, but it means your room will be prepared in my quarters once you’re released.” Master Windu touches Obi-Wan’s chin. His fingers are dry and warm. “I want you to rest now, but when you wake up, I will answer as many of your questions as I can.”
“Thank you, Master Windu,” Obi-Wan says.
Healer Che, patience gone, hipchecks Master Windu out of the way so she can continue her examination. Master Windu doesn’t leave. He settles into the chair next to Obi-Wan’s bed and listens as Healer Che reports the results of her examination.
There’s nothing major now that his back and his neck have been attended to. Obi-Wan drops into sleep with a push from Master Windu. The last thing he remembers is the warmth of a new bond connecting him to Master Windu. It makes him smile, even with all his aches and bruises.
#
When Obi-Wan wakes up, his eyes crusted with sleep and his mouth dry and foul tasting, Master Windu is still sitting next to his bed. He’s in a different set of robes, and there’s a tea try next to him, which means he’s left at some point. Obi-Wan hopes Master Windu didn’t spend the entire night in the Halls of Healing.
“Good morning,” Master Windu greets.
Without the haze of fever clouding Obi-Wan’s mind, Master Windu is sharper, clearer. Obi-Wan has a moment to panic, because this is Master Windu, inventor of the Vaapad and Head of the Jedi Order and what was Obi-Wan thinking agreeing to be his padawan? Before the panic can take root, Master Windu holds up a cup of lukewarm water.
“Are you thirsty?” Master Windu asks. “Healer Che said it would be a likely side effect of the healing.”
“Thank you,” Obi-Wan answers. He takes the cup and sips slowly. He’s pretty sure it’s the best water he’s ever tasted. But even as the water soothes is throat, it lands in an empty stomach. Obi-Wan’s ravenous. He can’t help but look around to see if there’s food for him as well.
“Healer Che wants to check on your progress, and with her sign off, you can have some healer’s gruel,” Master Windu says.
“Thank you,” Obi-Wan says again. Master Windu has carried him to the Halls of Healing, sat at his bedside, given him water, and is now arranging for him to be fed. So far, this has been a very one-sided apprenticeship. Anxiety begins to bubble up again.
“Ah, there she is now,” Master Windu says. “Healer Che, good morning. Obi-Wan is awake.”
“I can see that.” Healer Che doesn’t look as though she spent all night awake, but Obi-Wan heard that healers don’t need to sleep as much as everyone else. She plucks the empty cup from Obi-Wan’s hands and sets it on the tray attached to the bed. Next, she helps him sit up.
The gown he’s in has laces up the back so it’s easy for Healer Che to see how he’s healing. “We’re turning back the infection. Another night here, and you’ll be in the clear. The wounds still need to heal, so nothing strenuous for now. The infection does mean there will be light scarring left behind.”
“What about my neck?” Obi-Wan asks. He isn’t vain, that isn’t why he’s worried about scars. He just doesn’t want anyone to look at him and know his failures. The scars on his back will be easy to hide, but if his neck will bear the marks of his time on Bandomeer…
“Your neck is healing nicely as well. There will be some faint scarring from the collar. You’d have to be very close and know what you’re looking at to know what it was from. Most people will think the skin is pink from idle scratching.”
“Thank you, Healer Che,” Obi-Wan says.
“You have a very busy day of resting ahead of you,” Healer Che tells him. “I’ll get you some porridge. If you can keep it down and it doesn’t upset your stomach, your next meal might have a little more flavor in it. I want you to see Healer Peg’ae this morning, because I’m concerned about the effects of a month-long Force suppression on a developing brain, but it isn’t a formal session. You don’t have to talk to her about your experiences yet if you aren’t ready.”
Obi-Wan, words stuck in his throat, nods instead of thanking her again.
Healer Che’s next directions are to Master Windu. “I don’t want him questioned by the Council today. I’m giving you some leeway, because you’re his master, but anything beyond a wellness check, and I’m tossing you out.”
“Understood,” Master Windu says.
Satisfied, Healer Che leaves. When she returns to the private room, she has another cup of water and a bowl of thin porridge. It takes all of Obi-Wan’s self-control to eat it slowly instead of scarfing it down. Once he finishes his bland breakfast and drinks the second cup of water, he looks over at Master Windu. He isn’t sure what happens now.
“How are you feeling?” Master Windu asks.
“Still tired,” Obi-Wan answers. “A little achy. Is there anything you would like me to do while I’m in here today?”
“Rest. Eat when you’re able and hungry. The most important thing you can do right now is recover.” Master Windu takes a device out of his pocket and sets it on the tray attached to Obi-Wan’s bed. “That is your personal comm. Right now, it is programmed with the standard Temple numbers; the Halls of Healing, the Temple Guard, the Archives, and the Council receptionist. I’ve taken the liberty of adding another three numbers; Healer Peg’ae’s, my own, and Depa’s.”
“Depa?” Obi-Wan asks.
“Depa Billaba was knighted a few years ago,” Master Windu says. “She is in the Temple now, actually. I would like to introduce you to her, as you are now lineage siblings.”
Obi-Wan turns the comm over in his hands. He has a comm. He has a lineage sister. He has a lineage. He gives a little nod.
“Would now be alright?” Master Windu asks.
Obi-Wan nods again.
A few minutes later, a young Chalactan woman enters the room. She’s in the brown robes preferred by most Jedi with a cream undertunic peeking out. Her dark brown hair is braided, and the two braids are looped and pinned. But what catches Obi-Wan’s attention are the two gold beads that look as though they’re embedded on her face. There’s a smaller one on the bridge of her nose, between her eyes, and a slightly larger one on her forehead.
If they’re beads, is that how Master Windu marks padawan achievements? Master Windu doesn’t have any hair, so maybe he didn’t like his padawans to have braids. Obi-Wan touches his hair, shaggy and a bit unkempt after his month on Bandomeer.
And then he realizes that this woman, this Jedi Knight is in his healing room, and he’s in a thin gown, and he scrambles to pull his blanket up to his chin.
Depa is kinder than the initiates and padawans Obi-Wan knows, because she doesn’t laugh at him. She smiles gently and sits in the second chair next to Master Windu. “Good morning, Obi-Wan. Mace tells me I have a little brother now.”
“Hi,” Obi-Wan says shyly. “Master Windu is going to train me.”
“He’s a good teacher.” Depa sends a sly look at her former master. “And, once he leaves, I can stop fluffing his ego and tell you about all his bad habits.” She winks at Obi-Wan as if they’re sharing a secret.
Obi-Wan shakes his head. “Master Windu helped me.” He isn’t quite brave enough to say he doesn’t think Master Windu has any bad habits, because he doesn’t want Depa to think he’s calling her a liar. But Master Windu brought him to the Halls of Healing, and he’s going to train Obi-Wan when no one else wanted him. He saved Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan won’t repay his kindness with disloyalty.
“A polite padawan?” Depa continues to smile. “I suppose he was due for one after me. I’ve been stuck in the Halls of Healing before, and it isn’t fun. I can tell you stories from my travels, if you’d like. The glamorous life of a newly knighted Jedi.”
“You don’t have to stay,” Obi-Wan says, to both of them. “I’m sure you’re very busy.”
“I’d like to stay, if you don’t mind the company,” Depa tells him. “I want to get to know you.”
“I have a morning Council session, but I will return as soon as I’m out of it,” Master Windu promises.
Depa clears her throat pointedly.
Master Windu shoots her an irritated look. “I will stop at the commissary on the way, so my former padawan doesn’t nag me about my eating habits.”
“It’s the commissary or healer’s gruel,” Depa tells him sunnily, uncowed by his look. “I thought you’d prefer the former. Now, go be important. Obi-Wan and I have important gossip to share.”
Master Windu hesitates. He touches Obi-Wan’s chin again, and Obi-Wan looks up at him. “You have my comm number,” Master Windu says. “If you need me, use it. Once we have the sign off from the healers, we can work on strengthening our bond, but until then, technology will allow us to communicate.” Before Obi-Wan can protest, Master Windu adds, “This Council meeting is not more important than you if you need me.”
“I called Mace out of a Council meeting when I first got my menstrual blood,” Depa tells Obi-Wan. “There was blood where I wasn’t expecting it and I panicked.” She smiles at the uncomfortable look on Obi-Wan’s face. “Let me tell you a secret.” She shoos Master Windu out of the room and waits for him to leave before she leans in. “Mace has a lot of responsibilities as the Head of the Order and a member of the Council, but you come first. He wouldn’t have chosen you if he didn’t feel as though he could prioritize your training. Remember that.”
Obi-Wan, eyes wide, can’t do anything but nod and cling to his comm like a lifeline.