Dark Time

He sighed heavily, looking out over the young temple initiates in the arena before him, not really seeing any of them. More than ever, Qui-Gon wanted to leave this place and embark on another solo mission, something he had become exceedingly good at in recent years. He had no desire to take on another padawan. None whatsoever. Qui-Gon knew it would only end in disaster again.

But Yoda was sitting beside him, threatening to keep him planet bound for months unless he at least looked at the young students. There was a sage expression on the green one's face as he too surveyed the spectacle below them. Pairs of students fought with their lightsabers, trying their hardest to impress the masters who were watching.

Almost against his will, Qui-Gon found his eyes drawn to a pair of young men duelling in the centre of the arena. One was much taller, yet they seemed equally matched, fighting with an intensity quite above that of their peers. There was no doubt that both were strong in the Force - but how could one ever be sure they would remain in the Light side? How could Qui-Gon ever be sure that they were safe?

"Trust in the Force," Yoda advised, perhaps picking up on his sudden interest. Qui-Gon scowled. He refused to look at the pair again, even as he felt his interest being drawn back to the floor, to the shorter of the boys, the one with golden hair and a laughing smile when he abruptly gained the upper hand against his opponent. The boy whirled and spun, and suddenly there was no doubt that he was one with the light side of the Force; he was almost dancing with his lightsaber and a wondrous spectacle to behold.

No, he would not watch! A pang shot through Qui-Gon's heart; the boy's motion wasn't familiar yet it was intently so at the same time, the attitude, the charisma, the things he missed so much and he could only rage at himself for being so damn *careless* and as a result, losing his padawan. Qui-Gon leapt to his feet and, ignoring Yoda's outraged protests, strode out of the hall. He was a frightening figure, countenance so stern, and no one dared oppose his passage as he stormed back to his quarters. Once inside, he sank into his favourite chair and placed his head in his hands. Feeling so alone. But knowing that he did not *dare* take another padawan. Too much was at stake, the future of a potential Jedi. He would not lose another.

Even though something inside him yearned for it. The part of his mind, long empty of the training bond, was dead, cut off so abruptly several years ago. Qui-Gon knew that as long as he lived, he would never forget that day, or the days that followed, the fear which turned into horror and then a deep depression when nothing could be done except accept the truth of what had happened. And try and move on. Missions, endless missions, doing the work of the Council in an attempt to distract him from the past.

Yet despite all of that, Qui-Gon still missed him. And by now he was accepting that he always would. Perhaps Yoda was right, perhaps he should take on another padawan. But not yet, he wasn't quite ready.

He closed his eyes, and the image of the initiates sprung into his mind. The boy, the star of the arena....

...and there was a tingle in the back of Qui-Gon's mind. The faintest brush, the most distant of sensations, yet there was no belaying the fact that it was *there*, in the place of the training bond, and Qui-Gon's eyes snapped open in a mixture of wonder and outrage.

A bond? Already? It wasn't possible, he didn't even know the boy's name, and he'd be damned if he'd be forced into taking another padawan without making a conscious decision. Qui-Gon wasn't ready for this and as he fought against the bond, he felt it slipping away, diminishing into almost nothingness. Which was good. When only the tiniest of flickers remained, Qui-Gon got to his feet and sought out Yoda. Despite the joy the revival of that part of his mind brought to him, he *would not* take another apprentice. Because taw apprentice would be doomed.

"Master, I-" Qui-Gon began, sinking to his knees, but Yoda immediately interrupted him, a smile creeping over the wizened face.

"Sense it, I do," he almost chuckled. "The beginnings of a bond you have."

"I do not want this!" burst out Qui-Gon in response. "And today, of all days! It is sacrilegious to his memory!"

Yoda hobbled forward until he stood almost eye to eye with his former student. "Today?"

"Yes, today. It is five years today since I lost him. He would have been twenty-one. He would have almost been a Jedi."

Shaking his head, Yoda sighed. "You mourn him still."

"Of course I mourn him, Yoda. He was the brightest student I had ever seen. The Force flowed through him, he was filled with light and laughter and..." Qui-Gon's voice threatened to break, "...he brought more joy into my life than I ever thought possible. He was my best friend."

Yoda grunted. "Let go, you must." A comforting hand reached out to touch Qui-Gon's forehead, sending the vaguest images and suggestions, suggestions which Qui-Gon violently objected to. A vision of a memorial ceremony, to formally lay Obi-Wan Kenobi to rest.

"I refuse to believe that he is dead!" Qui-Gon burst out, his heart aching. He'd rejected such a ceremony time and time again, always wanting to hold on to the hope that his apprentice would someday return.

"No other explanation is there," Yoda said sadly.

"But I did not sense his death!" protested Qui-Gon. His eyes closed, the memories of that terrible day flooding back once again. There had been no warning. Nothing. Just a growing terror and horror that would never leave him.

He had been in meetings with the Council for most of the day, giving Obi-Wan the rare day off, even as both of them had known that Obi-Wan would spend most of the day in training anyway. He was the best young man Qui-Gon had ever known.

The Council meeting room had Force shielded, as it was when matters of utmost secrecy were discussed. As a result, Obi-Wan's bond with his master had been blocked for most of the day. And when Qui-Gon exited the chambers, somehow, he had forgotten to actively look for it.

By the time he'd realised the bond was dormant, it was late evening and Obi-Wan had not returned to their quarters as expected. Surmising that perhaps Obi-Wan was in a Force-shielded area, Qui-Gon had attempted to contact him on his communications device. No answer. Nor was there an answer from the libraries, or the training arenas, or anywhere that Qui-Gon quickly contacted to locate his apprentice.

Not that he was panicking just yet. He trusted Obi-Wan, and what could possibly happen to a Jedi on Coruscant, home of the most talented Jedi in the galaxy? Besides, Qui-Gon reassured himself, he sensed no pain along their bond. Not even the fuzziness of unconsciousness. And there certainly *wasn't* the searing pain that would have resulted if Obi-Wan was dead. There was just nothing. Emptiness. As if Obi-Wan had not just vanished out of Qui-Gon's life, it was as if he had never existed.

And when he realised *that*, Qui-Gon began to get extremely worried indeed. He raced through the temple, then the gardens, then the surrounding area, madly asking every person if they had seen Obi-Wan at all that day. Many had, and Qui-Gon was eventually able to reconstruct Obi-Wan's last day.

Lightsaber practice with Bant. Time spent in the library researching a project Qui-Gon had given him. Lunch. Then presumably meditation for several hours, until he had gone out into the gardens about mid-afternoon.

After that, no one had seen him. Qui-Gon searched the gardens time and time again, both physically and using the Force, but always, there was nothing. Even if Obi-Wan had been taken against his will there should have been some sign, or sense of a struggle. Anything. Growing more frantic with each passing hour, Qui-Gon roused the entire Jedi Council from their beds to help him search as the hours of the night turned into dawn.

No trace of Obi-Wan Kenobi was ever found.

But to the present day, Qui-Gon refused to believe he was dead, even after so long had passed. Even as each long day had turned into a week, or a month, and the investigation was called off, no evidence or motive ever being found. Even when Obi-Wan's name was taken off the assignment roster. Even when Yoda suggested Qui-Gon remove Obi-Wan's things from their quarters and pack them away.

Qui-Gon had refused to do this. The door to Obi-Wan's room remained closed, but inside it was intact, right down to the hastily made bed and datapad thrown on top of it.

And that, in part, was another reason Qui-Gon could not take on a new apprentice. Accepting a new padawan meant that Obi-Wan was truly gone; and that was almost enough of a reason within itself.

Yoda sighed heavily, picking up on Qui-Gon's thoughts easily. "A tragedy it was," he agreed, "but insist I *must* that you move on. Already, the Force has willed that take on a new apprentice you shall."

"But what if I doom him as well?" Qui-Gon asked, more to himself than Yoda. "I have already lost two."

"And how many do you think *I* have lost?" returned Yoda, exasperated. "Happens, it does. Accept the will of the Force, we do, and move on." He harrumphed. "I move on. You must too."

Qui-Gon bowed his head, recognising the truth behind Yoda's words, and the pain. Even Yoda, the greatest of them all, had lost apprentices during his 800 years of training them. Perhaps it was time for him to begin over.

"I will listen to the Force, Master," Qui-Gon acquiesced, again feeling the faint tingling in his mind. "But it will take time."

"Have time you do," Yoda said, "but that boy down there is waiting."

"I shall consider it."

Yoda managed one more heavy sigh before turning from Qui-Gon and shuffling back to his chair. Qui-Gon took this as a signal to leave and did so, bowing low before he left.

His mind was whirling as he walked down the corridors, wondering if Yoda's advice had done him any good. It seemed the new bond was not to be denied. But how could he accept it?

Perhaps it *was* time to put the past behind him. Time to stop hoping and accept the truth. His heart heavy with loss, but a spring in his footsteps, Qui-Gon returned to the arena where the children still played. Suddenly he had a reason to go on.

Qui-Gon greeted Mace Windu with a smile, and the surprise on Mace's face was obvious.

"Has it truly been so long since I smiled?" Qui-Gon asked him and Mace nodded gravely in response.

"It is good to see you here, Qui-Gon," Mace said, subtly conveying much more with the message. "Would you like to meet the students?"

"Yes, I think I should like that very much." Mace led him over to the master's area where they could converse quietly for a moment before formal introductions were made. The Council member pointed out several promising students to Qui-Gon and Qui-Gon found himself really listening for once, despite the fact that his attention was drawn to the blonde boy who reminded him a little of Obi-Wan.

"Ca-Bral Randis," said Mace, finally giving him a name. "He is the most promising student we have seen for years. Many masters are interested in taking Ca-Bral as a padawan, but I feel he is still a little young. He is only ten."

"He carries himself with the authority of one much older," Qui-Gon noted.

"Yes," Mace quietly agreed, shooting an intent look at Qui-Gon which Qui-Gon ignored.

"I believe you said something about introductions?"

The two masters left the safety of their area and joined the students who had just completed their levitation exercises. "Good afternoon," Mace said. "I would like to introduce you to Master Qui-Gon Jinn, who has been offworld for several months."

A chorus of polite responses reached Qui-Gon's ears and he smiled at the children, his eyes on Ca-Bral and his friends. "I would like to spend time with you all," he said. "Would you show me what you were doing?"

Throughout the rest of the afternoon, Qui-Gon immersed himself in the children's' exercises as masters often did when they were seeking a new padawan, or just getting to know the temple initiates. A master was always welcome, as he could teach them many things they did not fully understand.

Qui-Gon kept a subtle eye on Ca-Bral the whole time, not wanting to single the boy out, but carefully assessing his abilities and his interaction with the others. There was no doubt that Ca-Bral was special. However, Qui-Gon did not dare to reach into the beginnings of the bond in his own mind, because Ca-Bral was completely unaware of it and Qui-Gon refused to accelerate the process until the time was right.

As the afternoon drew to a close, a small girl crept closer to Qui-Gon with a shy smile on her face. "Thank you, Master Qui-Gon. It was fun this afternoon," she said softly, before reaching forward and embracing him tightly. As the small arms slipped around him Qui-Gon smiled. He had missed this, the simple closeness of another person, and the innocent love of a child. He returned the hug gently, saying, "I was honoured to be with you all."

"Will you come again?" Jessi-myn, the little girl, asked.

"You can be sure of it," promised Qui-Gon, his eyes on Ca-Bral. Ca-Bral steadily smiled back.

And Qui-Gon left the training rooms with a the hints of a grin on his face, light in his eyes. So long he had been closed away from everyone, yet a little girl had broken down his defences so easily. Qui-Gon realised how much fun he'd had with the children, it was something so different from what he'd done for the past few years. Obi-Wan used to encourage him to spend time with the temple initiates, but Obi-Wan was gone.

And Qui-Gon resolutely put that thought out of his head, concentrating instead on the future, and the promise of bringing up one special person in the Force. His search was over. It was time for life.

He dined with the masters that evening and was heartened to see Jessi-Myn smiling and waving at him, and Ca-Bral gave him a respectful nod from across the room. Yoda obviously sensed Qui-Gon's mood change and gave him an approving glance.

"You were right, my master," Qui-Gon acquiesced. "I have been wallowing in the past. I shall endeavour to focus on the moment from now on, the moment which shall lead to the future."

"Good," Yoda granted, and nothing more on the matter was said. For the first time in what seemed forever, Qui-Gon laughed with the other masters, enjoying the tales of their padawans' mishaps instead of resenting them. Soon, perhaps, he could add his own stories to theirs.

And the tingle in Qui-Gon's mind repeatedly brought a fresh smile to his face. He could not deny it, he felt alive again.

He could not go back to his quarters that night, they were dull, filled with ghosts and memories, and so he went to the gardens, to think. He had a lot to consider; it was impossible that his life could turn around in one day but it was certainly the beginning of something new.

Qui-Gon paused at the gardens' entrance and inhaled deeply, detecting the sweet sense of jasmine mixed with the sultry fragrance of a warm night. This was one of the most beautiful places on Coruscant, and deeply in tune with the Force. Peace could be found in here.

His feet found a familiar path and he wandered, quietly, silently, revelling in the quiet made possible by shields around the area. It wasn't dark, for that was near-impossible on Coruscant given the amount of illumination from both the orbiting ships and the moons, however, it was most certainly night. A night to embrace, a night to revel in.

He wandered through the wooded area and came to a clearing, pausing to study the night-blossoming Itini flower. The smell was heavenly and he breathed it deeply, accepting, living in the moment. He was dully aware of the tallness of the trees behind him and the edge of the park before him. Children played there during the day, on the swings and the slides and the "castle", but for now, it was silent.

And there was a man sitting on the swing.

Qui-Gon froze. His eyes were riveted to that spot, the tall figure with his back to Qui-Gon sitting comfortably, arms holding the ropes, feet trailing in the sand as he rocked backwards and forwards.

The longish golden-red hair, highlighted by the nightly glow. The braid trailing over the back shoulder. The cloak, clearly three sizes too small, stretching over his back.

And the sound of his breathing, or was that his beating heart, or was it Qui-Gon's own that Qui-Gon was hearing?

Qui-Gon stared, refusing to believe what he was seeing, refusing to hope, refusing to accept the knowledge that every part of his body was screaming was true. He should turn, close his eyes, and the apparition would disappear, it was nothing more than a cruel trick of the light.

But his heart was singing and the tingle in his mind was bursting into full bloom and Qui-Gon suddenly recognised what it was. The bond. It wasn't with the temple initiate whose name Qui-Gon could no longer remember. It was with the person who sat, unaware, before him.

Half petrified, half overjoyed, Qui-Gon took a tentative step forward. If this was an illusion he didn't want to destroy it. But he had to speak, he had to say something. As he opened his mouth, Qui-Gon realised he was trembling and the words would not come.

A step forward, and then another, the soft crunching of his footsteps on the grass *had* to reach the ears of the man on the swing, didn't it? If only he would turn, if only he could see the face, those eyes, to know that it wasn't a phantom.

And he turned.

And Qui-Gon looked into those familiar blue-green eyes and felt his heart stop.

And Obi-Wan stood and walked over to him, steadying him with a firm grip on his arms and the universe was right again.

"Hello, Master," Obi-Wan said softly, formally.

A thousand questions raced through Qui-Gon's mind. Where have you been? Are you all right? How did you get back? When did you come back? Are you real? Why did you leave?

But in the end, he could say nothing of this, only managing to enfold Obi-Wan into his arms and murmur, "Padawan."

Obi-Wan awkwardly accepted the hug and Qui-Gon reflected how different he felt. Five years ago a boy had gone missing and now, a man had returned. Obi-Wan was much taller and had gained a sturdy, muscular frame. No longer gawky, he was a beautiful young man and even as he recognised that, Qui-Gon felt a flood of confusion. It was Obi-Wan back, but was it *his* Obi-Wan? Or was it a strangely different person in a familiar form?

Finally, Qui-Gon felt strong enough to let go, but still he trembled and nothing could stop the pounding of his heart. He was too old for a shock like this...

"You are not old, Master," Obi-Wan said easily, and then Qui-Gon froze with the surprise of the old bond being restored so quickly. It didn't make sense, *none* of it made sense, because for the past five years there had been *nothing* in his mind! Qui-Gon stared at Obi-Wan and his former apprentice stared back at him. Obi-Wan's eyes were open wide with confusion as he seemed to take in Qui-Gon's appearance, and then his own, for the first time. One hand tugged uselessly at a sleeve which was far too short for his arm.

"I-" Obi-Wan began, and then seemed lost for words. He looked around at the gardens in bewilderment. "You-"

"Obi-Wan, tell me," Qui-Gon finally found his voice. "How do you feel?"

"I feel fine," he answered, slowly, deliberately. "But I am very confused." He swayed slightly and Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan's hands in his own, the contact providing an anchor for both of them. "How is it that I come to be here?"

Qui-Gon sighed. "I was hoping you could answer that question for me. Obi-Wan, where have you been?"

The gaze that met his was empty, lost and frightened. "Nowhere," he said softly. And then he frowned, closing his eyes. "I have been away," Obi-Wan realised. His grip on Qui-Gon's fingers strengthened. "But there is nothing in my mind - Master, it's nothing but an empty black hole!" His voice rose, desperate, so frightened and again Qui-Gon pulled him forward into a comforting embrace. One hand rubbed up and down Obi-Wan's back as Obi-Wan buried his face in Qui-Gon's shoulder, and Qui-Gon could feel how very very scared Obi-Wan was.

"It will be all right, Padawan," he soothed, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Obi-Wan's head and reflecting that even that gesture was now different. "I am here for you. Together, we will find out what has happened, but for now, rest assured that you are safe."

Yet with the icy feeling that settled over his heart, Qui-Gon found that he could not yet believe it.

He held Obi-Wan closer, although it hardly seemed possible, but even that contact was not enough. It could not erase the gnawing emptiness within Obi-Wan which was reflected across their bond, the hollow space that threatened to draw Qui-Gon down into it. And there was no denying the utter sense of *wrongness* about it all.

They stood together, breathing, existing, alive. Living in the moment with no reason to speak, for what could be said? More useless assurances? Words did nothing against forces that could not be seen, let alone comprehended. Yet for some reason, as they stood together, Qui-Gon felt a little safer. He was protecting Obi-Wan and he would never let him go again. And if they had to stand there all night to convince themselves of the fact, Qui-Gon was quite happy to do so.

After a time, Qui-Gon forced his eyes to open, looking beyond this strange new Obi-Wan to the peaceful gardens which surrounded them, the gardens which had, for all intents and purposes, stolen five years of Obi-Wan's life. Five years. How could anyone go on after that? And Qui-Gon's fear that Obi-Wan could now never be a Jedi returned.

Despite the bond, he barely knew the young man, and Obi-Wan could not know him anymore. Qui-Gon had changed, each experience on his own had made its mark on his psyche, adjusting his perceptions on life and the universe in general. He found himself wondering if Obi-Wan would accept that, until he remembered that it was foolish to be worrying about himself. It wasn't his future which was at stake.

"Master," Obi-Wan finally spoke, using the familiar title, the only one he knew. "What is going to happen now?" He did not release his hold but Qui-Gon was nonetheless aware that Obi-Wan was quietly reviewing his new state.

"We will complete your training," Qui-Gon answered with as much confidence as he could muster.

"But-" and the muffled words coming from Qui-Gon's chest held more than a hint of despair, "I am too old. I must be too old. If a Padawan is not knighted by the time he is twenty-one, he is not suited to the path. I am nowhere near ready!"

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said firmly, taking the younger man's face in his hands and forcing him to look up, "there are always exceptions. I promise, you will become a Knight. You have spent your entire life working for it."

Tears filled Obi-Wan's eyes as he roughly shook his head, forcing Qui-Gon to loosen his hold. "No. I haven't."

"You have, Obi-Wan. You must listen to me."

The traumatised eyes closed and pain again crossed Obi-Wan's face. "There is a *hole* in my mind, Qui-Gon! Who knows what I have been doing? I must be tainted, I cannot be a Jedi now.

"It isn't fair," he continued bitterly.

"No, it isn't fair," agreed Qui-Gon, attempting to soothe his former padawan. "However, we must accept that it has happened. Obi-Wan, please believe me when I tell you this - your return has brought me the greatest joy and I refuse to presume it could be something bad." Again, he caressed Obi-Wan's cheek and he noted that it was smooth, freshly shaven, but by whom?

One of Obi-Wan's hands released its hold on Qui-Gon and came up to cover the hand on his cheek. "Master, I cannot believe that until I understand what has happened." Changeable eyes met steadfast blue, yet it seemed each of them was clinging to the other through the gaze. "How long have I been gone?" Obi-Wan finally asked.

Qui-Gon swallowed nervously, wondering if Obi-Wan's tenuous hold on his composure would last through the revelations that followed. "You have been gone for five years. You are twenty-one years old."

Obi-Wan nodded, almost distantly. "Five years," he repeated, and then stepped back to look down at himself. "I have no knowledge of this body, and yet-"

"What?" Qui-Gon pressed, eager to encourage memories to surface.

"And yet it seems intimately familiar. You, Master, I do not recognise."

It hurt to hear those words, but Qui-Gon bore them with stoicism. All that mattered was that Obi-Wan was back, and whatever changes resulted in their relationship, he could still draw comfort from the fact that Obi-Wan was *alive* and Qui-Gon hadn't necessarily failed after all.

"Please understand, Master, I mean no disrespect. I am attempting to explain that," he paused for a breath, "- that even though the last thing I recall is sitting on that very swing while you were in meetings with the Jedi Council, part of me also knows that I am older." Again Obi-Wan surveyed his new body, one hand tugging on the extraordinary length of the padawan braid. "My memories end at age sixteen, but my mind is older."

And that was both a relief and a frightening thing to hear. Relief, because Obi-Wan was not a boy trapped in the wrong body, but fear, because it revealed that Obi-Wan had definitely experienced something during the missing time and there was no guarantee of a good effect on his psyche. Qui-Gon intently watched Obi-Wan, saying, "Please, continue."

"And you, Master. I know you but I do not." Obi-Wan frowned, as if trying to decide how to put it into words. "Your physical appearance is changed slightly but you are still my master. Your sense in the Force is the same, you feel the same, and," Obi-Wan looked down, seemingly a little embarrassed, "you smell the same. But there are parts of your mind that I have never touched before and things that are so different and it just feels wrong!"

"You will have much to get used to," Qui-Gon said. He glanced around, noticing the night was wearing on, but having no particular desire for sleep. "And much to learn. There have been many changes during your absence."

"I know," Obi-Wan said soberly. He turned, looking at the swing, and shuddered. "I felt so safe on that swing before but now I find I am unable to go near it."

"Then walk with me, Padawan," Qui-Gon invited, taking Obi-Wan's hand in his. "Ask all the questions you want to and I will answer." Together, they began down the forested path, leaving the eerily rocking swing far behind them.

The first question was also the one at the front of Qui-Gon's own mind. "Will the Council allow you to continue training me?"

At Qui-Gon's hesitation, Obi-Wan looked at him with wide, frightened eyes and Qui-Gon could clearly see the traces of the boy he had lost.

"Have you taken another apprentice?"

And those words brought Qui-Gon's entire day rushing back to him. "No, Obi-Wan," he immediately reassured. "I could not, I was convinced I would never find another padawan to replace you."

Obi-Wan picked up on the past tense. "And?"

Sighing, Qui-Gon wondered again at the mysterious workings of the Force. "Today Yoda convinced me to consider it. Not to replace you, but to train another young mind in the ways of the Force. I admit that if you had not returned, I would be on my way to accepting another apprentice."

"Oh."

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, his voice low and fierce, "I could never have replaced you in my heart. You are the best person I have ever known. I mourned your loss for the entire time and every day I hoped that you would be returned. And now that wish has been granted."

"Granted how?" Obi-Wan returned. "As much as you may wish it, I am *not* the boy who went away and you are *not* the master I remember. Things are different." Obi-Wan, now angry, increased his pace so that Qui-Gon had to hurry to keep up with him. "You said I was the best person you knew. That was *then*. I am no longer so innocent, Master. Somehow, I have become an adult and with that comes an entirely new side to my personality!"

"I will accept that," Qui-Gon quickly said, tugging on the held hand to make Obi-Wan slow if even a little. "And I will make every attempt to get to know this new part of you."

"Part?" Obi-Wan frowned. "What if it is all of me that has changed? How can you stand to have a bond with a stranger?" He shook his head, violently. "I want to scream, Master!"

"Then do so."

Obi-Wan gave into the frustration, his howl more of an anguished shout than anything else. "I just wish I could remember *something*! There's not even a deliberate piece of my memory missing; I have to hunt for it. My mind tells me that this morning we dined in our quarters, this afternoon I went to the park, and I sat on that swing for several hours until you found me.

"I was waiting for you, Master, but I do not know why!" He kicked at the ground, viciously. "For hours I just *sat* there, and part of me wondered why I didn't bother getting up and moving, but the rest of me just...sat. Do you know how useless I feel because of that?"

Qui-Gon chose to overlook Obi-Wan's accusing words. "I felt your return," he realised, dismayed at his earlier ignorance. How could he possibly have confused it as a bond with another? And a more frightening realisation arose from that: perhaps Obi-Wan was truly different. "The tingling at the back of my mind. We are still bound to each other even if we do not know the other's true heart." Qui-Gon took a deep breath, calming himself with the sensation of Obi-Wan's touch, strange though it was. "Will you trust me, Obi-Wan?"

"And that's the problem, isn't it," Obi-Wan spat bitterly. "Every fibre of my being is screaming yes, I trust you with my life. But my mind knows that you couldn't save me from whatever happened and that I don't even know you anymore so how can I trust you?"

"The bond-" Qui-Gon tried.

"The bond could be nothing more than a remnant." Obi-Wan tossed his braid over his shoulder in an attempt to appear confident but it only betrayed his aloneness. "I do not know what I am capable of, Qui-Gon Jinn. I suggest that the question should not be do I trust you, but do you trust me?"

And with a growing horror, Qui-Gon realised that Obi-Wan was right. He tried to reach out through the Force to touch Obi-Wan's mind but now there were fragile walls around the swirling confusion as Obi-Wan's strength and confidence returned.

"The Force will guide us," said Qui-Gon almost by rote, hoping that the words he'd been taught were truth. Obi-Wan only laughed bitterly and pulled his hand from Qui-Gon's, severing the link between them. Qui-Gon felt everything spinning out of control.

"I gave my life to the Force and look what happened." Obi-Wan stalked ahead, then paused and turned back to look at Qui-Gon. He had nowhere to go.

"It is late," Qui-Gon tried, his voice calm, not betraying the inner turmoil he was experiencing because everything Obi-Wan had said was *right*. "We should sleep, and go see the Jedi Council tomorrow."

A flicker of a smile at that, for Master Teluna, who had discovered Obi-Wan's Force sensitivity and brought Obi-Wan to the Temple, was on the Council. Or more correctly, she had been. "Obi-Wan, I don't know how to tell you this..."

...and it seemed Obi-Wan again picked up on his thoughts. "She's dead, isn't she." The words were flat and bitter. Obi-Wan seemed resigned to the pain. "I suppose I will have to get used to finding out that everything, everyone, I knew and loved is gone."

"I will help you," Qui-Gon offered, feeling useless. "Come with me now, Obi-Wan. You should rest. You have been through a great deal today."

'Today', what did that word mean to Obi-Wan anyway? But with nothing to do and nowhere else to go except wander the cursed gardens, Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon to the exit. Into the buildings which were the same, yet different. To his former quarters he shared with Qui-Gon, yet he felt as if he had never left them.

"I know," Qui-Gon said softly as Obi-Wan paused at the door, for Obi-Wan's mental shields had been down. "This is still your place, for as long as you wish it to be."

Tiny rooms but to Qui-Gon they had never seemed better, because despite the confusion and the pain, there was no denying the fact that Obi-Wan was finally *home*.

There was a stranger in his house. That was the first thought Qui-Gon had as he opened his eyes on the next day, some part of his mind noting distantly that it was quite late in the morning already, but this thought was overridden by confusion at the sounds coming from the tiny kitchen.

Yet before the bewilderment could take firm hold, Qui-Gon felt the comforting presence in his mind and he remembered Obi-Wan and he smiled. No matter what happened now, he could rest easy in the knowledge that Obi-Wan was alive.

Idly, Qui-Gon rubbed his neck and reflected it was quite sore, with good reason. After ensuring Obi-Wan was safely tucked in bed (and carefully not mentioning the fact that Obi-Wan's feet hung over the edge, something they were both glaringly aware of), he had sat by Obi-Wan's bedside, not saying a word, just being there as a comforting presence. And to hear Obi-Wan breathing deeply in sleep had been just as comforting to Qui-Gon.

He didn't know how many hours he'd sat there before he'd dropped off to sleep in his sitting position and woken with a very stiff neck. A quick check on Obi-Wan revealed that he was still sleeping peacefully with no hint of a nightmare, so Qui-Gon felt confident of returning to his own room. Besides, there was still the ever-present bond between them that would alert him to Obi-Wan's distress should it arise. Another clanking noise distracted Qui-Gon from his thoughts and he supposed he should get up. He quickly pulled on his robe, usually, he would not have bothered with such a gesture but there was a new person in the house, one who might not have been comfortable with seeing Qui-Gon in nothing but his sleeping pants.

He needn't have bothered, because the first step out of his door reminded Qui-Gon that he was overdressed in comparison to Obi-Wan. The sight was almost comical. None of Obi-Wan's old clothing fitted him, including the clothes he'd reappeared in. The previous night Qui-Gon had lent him a tunic and pants but despite Obi-Wan's new height, they still did not fit him.

Obi-Wan had rolled up the sleeves of the tunic but had not managed (or bothered) to make it stay shut at the front. Likewise, the pants were rolled up at the ankles and were slung dangerously low on his hips, exposing a tanned, taught abdomen. And Qui-Gon realised he was staring.

He dropped his eyes quickly just as Obi-Wan looked up from the coffee he was preparing. "Good morning, Master Jinn," Obi-Wan said formally.

"Good morning," Qui-Gon returned, not quite sure what to call Obi-Wan. 'Padawan' seemed the most natural but neither could be sure of returning to their former relationship and in the light of the day, all the insecurities and problems suddenly seemed much more real.

He crossed the room and inhaled the scent of the proffered drink. A small smile crossed his face, obviously, Obi-Wan had not forgotten how he liked it. "Thank you," he said sincerely. Obi-Wan merely shrugged.

Qui-Gon walked to the table and seating himself in his customary chair, noting that the other chair didn't have to remain empty on this morning, and thankfully, Obi-Wan soon slid into it. He moved with a bewitching grace, no longer a gawky teenager insecure of his body, and Qui-Gon reflected that it was another change he approved of.

"When will we see the Council?" Obi-Wan suddenly asked, startling Qui-Gon out of his reverie.

The master paused, frowning. "I should contact them."

A moment's hesitation, and then Obi-Wan offered, "I could call them." Qui-Gon saw a trace of the old Obi-Wan, the apprentice who had always been so willing to take on what he perceived were adult tasks and therefore important. He flashed a warm smile at the younger man.

"I appreciate the offer, Obi-Wan, however I feel they would be more than a little surprised and offended to find a holo of someone they consider dead speaking to them."

"Oh." Obi-Wan drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "I expect many people believe I am dead."

"I am sure you will enjoy proving them wrong," Qui-Gon said by way of encouragement. "I know I certainly will."

"Yes Master," Obi-Wan replied, the words a method of locking away his true emotions.

The knocking at the door startled them both. Qui-Gon took one more sip of his drink before rising to answer it, noting that Obi-Wan too had half arisen before uncomfortably settling back down. The knee-high figure that greeted Qui-Gon should not have been a surprise.

"Right I was," Yoda said, nodding sagely as he peered in at Obi-Wan. "He has returned."

"Come in, my master," Qui-Gon said, gesturing inwards but Yoda resolutely shook his head.

"No, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan must come with me." He beckoned and Obi-Wan was compelled to respond, shooting a quick glance at Qui-Gon which projected a mixture of hesitation, confusion, fear and relief.

Qui-Gon was almost afraid to ask his next question of Yoda, but he pressed on. "You knew Obi-Wan was alive?" He tried to make it sound as if it wasn't an accusation.

"Not until last night," answered Yoda. "Felt a pulse in the Force, I did, when your bond rejoined. Felt the fear and confusion." His eyes narrowed, staring intently at Obi-Wan. "The Council must learn what happened to your padawan before we can be sure."

The sentence was deliberately cryptic and Qui-Gon chose not to pursue it, convinced that Yoda was not saying more for fear of hurting Obi-Wan. Which was entirely reasonable. Still, Qui-Gon did not appreciate the implication that Obi-Wan was unsafe to be around, that Obi-Wan had been touched by the dark side.

"I will accompany you to your meeting with the Council," Qui-Gon said quickly. "If you would give me a moment to properly dress..."

"Unnecessary, that is," Yoda interrupted, thumping his gimmer stick on the ground. "We will speak to Obi-Wan alone."

"At least allow me to find him some clothes!" Qui-Gon protested, stalling for time as he picked up on a wave of fear emanating from Obi-Wan.

"Clothing matters not. Judge me by my clothes, do you?"

The words did what they were intended to do, to make both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan smile at the oft-repeated, in various permutations, phrase. "Nonetheless, please allow me to find a robe at least for Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon tried again. He lowered his voice for Yoda's ears only. "Otherwise I fear many will stare if they can see that it is truly Obi-Wan who has returned."

Yoda grunted, but granted Qui-Gon this. Qui-Gon quickly went to his room and selected the smallest of his robes, not that there was much difference between it and the largest. He returned to the outer room and cautiously draped it around Obi-Wan's shoulders, careful not to enforce any unwanted touch on the younger man. After the initial intimacy of the previous night, a gulf between them had arisen from their strange new relationship.

However, it seemed Obi-Wan was grateful for the gentle touch, or at least the robe. He wrapped it around himself and pulled up the hood, hiding himself. Qui-Gon nodded in satisfaction and even Yoda appeared to approve.

"You will contact me as soon as you learn anything?" Qui-Gon urged, not wanting to let Obi-Wan go.

"When the time is right, contact you I will," Yoda granted and again returned his attention to the silent, robed figure. "Obi-Wan, leave now we must."

Obi-Wan bowed in acquiescence and, not even giving Qui-Gon a parting glance, trailed after the small Jedi Master. Qui-Gon's heart went with him, hoping desperately that the Council could unlock the secrets of Obi-Wan's mind and discover that there was nothing to fear.

Even if there was darkness, Qui-Gon knew that the Council would help. There was no other possibility. Or more correctly, Qui-Gon would not consider any other possibility.

For the thousandth time he told himself, this time aloud, "Obi-Wan is alive. That is all that matters."

Yet this time, he found he could not quite believe it.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes, confused. Everything around him seemed to be shaking, the floor itself was tilting at an impossible angle as the ship's stabilisers struggled to cope. His hands flailed to catch on to something but no purchase was found and Obi-Wan thudded heavily into the wall.

The wall. Of the docking bay. Right next to the bay's decompression controls. Obi-Wan shook his head, trying to erase the fogginess and the terrible dread that was settling over his heart because he had absolutely *no* idea of how he had come to be here.

The last he remembered was retiring to his small room onboard Eeth Koth's private ship after another day in session with the master and Master Yoda. They seemed no closer to finding a solution to the hole in his mind, so the two Jedi had been tutoring him on relaxation techniques and higher forms of meditation.

Nothing had helped. Five days into the journey and Obi-Wan was still at a loss to explain what had happened to him. The headaches came frequently, and the fear never quite left him, and all the while there was the dreadful sense of urgency beneath everything else which told him that if he didn't understand the truth soon, he would... He would what? Obi-Wan didn't quite know, but he sensed that his fate would be very dark indeed.

A dark fate. Perhaps he had been programmed to be an agent of the Dark Side. It certainly seemed possible as the ship shuddered again and Obi-Wan took full stock of his position. He had been next to the controls which would have expelled all air from the docking bay, thus destabilising the entire ship and quite possibly destroying it.

The panic rose within him again and he closed his eyes, focussing on his breathing as Yoda had taught him. He was okay. He was alive. He was living in the moment, he was in full control, and he was *not* suicidal even though his actions seemed to suggest that, actions of which he had no memory.

It was another blackout, and Obi-Wan was suddenly struck by a feeling of horror. What if more time had passed? What if he were now twenty-six years old and had been gone again? What if this sort of thing was going to happen for the rest of his life? He couldn't take it, and perhaps it would have been better if the airlock had opened and he'd been sucked out into the oblivion of space. He was quite positive that there would be no Qui-Gon to save him now, if Qui-Gon had ever even saved him. He missed his former master desperately but had been told by Eeth that he had to move on with his life.

Move on with his life - what a statement that made. As far as he knew, he no longer controlled his own life and therefore how could he be expected to deal with emotions and events in a rational manner? Perhaps he should trust the darkness which lurked, embrace it, and meet his destiny....

"Obi-Wan!"

Almost blind with panic, Obi-Wan instinctively turned to face the voice. "What year is it?" he gasped.

Yoda shuffled forward, bracing himself as the ship's internal gravity fluctuated momentarily. "Encountered a minefield, we have. The ship has left hyperspace but some damage was done." A whirring as the air recyclers clicked back on - Obi-Wan hadn't even noticed that they had stopped functioning and that was a very dangerous thing indeed for any Jedi. If he even was a Jedi.

"What year is it?" he managed again, even as the rational part of his mind noted that Yoda's appearance was the same and his own body had the same feel about it as he remembered.

Yoda told him, his ears drooping sadly, and Obi-Wan was relieved to hear that apparently he'd only lost a few hours. "Why are you here?"

"I-" And Obi-Wan paused, torn with indecision. Was it better to admit his failure to Yoda and jeopardise his future by proving the dark taint, or should he hide it? But to hide the truth was akin to lying, which was the path to the dark side regardless. "I don't know," he admitted. He sank to his knees. "Master Yoda, I don't know! I remember retiring to bed and then the ship shook and I woke up here."

His hands came up to cover his face. "What's wrong with me?"

Yoda shuffled forwards, leaning heavily onto his cane until he was mere inches from Obi-Wan's face. "Look at me, you will."

Obi-Wan could not refuse. He met the wizened eyes, seeing compassion, pity and strength. "You must be strong, Obi-Wan. Create your own future, you do."

"Are you saying that I did this deliberately?"

Yoda closed his eyes, seemingly reaching out with the Force. "Difficult to see," he said. "You must trust your feelings." A hand crept out to touch his shoulder and Obi-Wan leaned into it, the simple touch once again grounding him in reality.

"I am trying so hard, Master Yoda," he said sadly, "but nothing I do seems to make any difference. Not even the entire Council could help!" A shudder passed through his body as he remembered the first few days on Coruscant, after Qui-Gon had found him. Even though he knew the Council had his best interests at heart, it still felt as if his mind had been shredded as they probed every tiny spark of memory, of life, that was Obi-Wan in a mad search for the key to unlock the mystery of the missing time.

And it had hurt.

A pulse of healing came through the contact point between himself and Yoda, it soothed the memory. "Sorry for your pain, I am," Yoda said. "Necessary it was."

"I understand, Master."

Yoda sighed, staring intently at Obi-Wan. "Tomorrow we reach our destination."

"Will I find healing there?" Obi-Wan was hopeful, almost desperately so, for it was his last resort.

Yet Yoda did not respond. He turned, muttering, "Rest, we must. Come."

Obi-Wan followed, and when he had returned to his room, he locked the door shut and thanked the Force for the mine field which had knocked him out of his sleepwalk. He then placed a chair against the door as a barrier, but in his heart, he did not believe that anything could truly stop the darkness or the horror of his own mind.

And in the darkest hour of his sleep, he felt a presence. "Obi-Wan?" it asked softly, serenely, it was a gentle brush against his mind. It brought him comfort, it reminded him of home, if he even had a home in the universe. He smiled, knowing that there was somewhere he belonged.

Dagobah. Of course Yoda would take Obi-Wan to Dagobah, Qui-Gon realised, as the direction of the trail he was following became apparent. It was a place which strongly pulsed with the Force through the sheer amount of life on the planet. It was a place strongly allied with both light and dark, dependent upon one's mood and the inclination of the local trees. It was a terrible and good planet at the same time.

Qui-Gon reached out along his link with Obi-Wan, smiling at the familiar brush of Obi-Wan's mind. He doubted Obi-Wan was aware of his presence, and he also feared that Obi-Wan would reject his advances had he known of them. Qui-Gon reflected that the new Obi-Wan, like the old, had already proven himself to be honourable and protective during those few short hours they'd had together.

He missed him. Qui-Gon wanted to get to know Obi-Wan, he wanted friendship and comfort and love which the bond between them hinted of, and which surely the Force decreed was right. Yet they were separated by an event which was no one's fault, and Qui-Gon knew they could never come together until Obi-Wan had accepted and conquered the incident.

Touching a control switch, Qui-Gon smiled as Obi-Wan's holographic image sprung from the counter. This, taken from a security camera in the Jedi Temple, along with his own memories, were all he had of the adult Obi-Wan. He found himself studying the younger man in detail, knowing that appearances did not matter, but fascinated nonetheless. He ruthlessly quashed the spark of desire that tugged at the very edge of his mind. There were hundreds of beings who considered Obi-Wan extremely good looking and the last thing Obi-Wan needed was to have Qui-Gon on that list. Never mind that he was a Jedi Master and should not be lusting after someone half his age. Someone whom he loved.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and again brushed against Obi-Wan's mind, sensing that the younger man was sleeping. They connected best when Obi-Wan was slumbering, during the day the presence of Eeth and to a lesser extent, Yoda were so prevalent in Obi-Wan's mind that Qui-Gon knew even the merest touch would be detected. Such a revelation would result in the immediate condemnation of Qui-Gon after being so explicitly ordered to stay away, but it was an order he could not follow.

"You will heal, Obi-Wan," he whispered, hoping Obi-Wan could hear him. "You will discover what has happened and you will conquer it. You *will* conquer it."

A sigh of contentment whispered back along their bond.

"I will train you to Knighthood. This I promise you." It was a promise Qui-Gon intended to keep regardless of what happened on Dagobah. Even if Yoda and Eeth decided that Obi-Wan was not for the Order, Qui-Gon would train him. It was the least he could do for his failure to keep Obi-Wan safe.

Obi-Wan slipped deeper into sleep and Qui-Gon reflected that perhaps he should do the same. It would require the most alert of minds when he finally arrived at Dagobah to shield both himself and the hired ship whilst being as close to Obi-Wan as was possible. He wanted to be right *there* if Obi-Wan needed him, or the more optimistic point of view, he wanted to be there the moment Yoda declared Obi-Wan a Jedi and contact was once again permitted.

After checking the autopilot one last time, Qui-Gon leaned back in his chair and succumbed to sleep.

The tree.

It loomed before Obi-Wan, by all appearances it was a normal, hollow trunk, but his Force sensitivity told him otherwise. He shot a fearful glance back at Eeth and Yoda and the two Jedi Masters merely folded their arms and regarded him impassively.

A Jedi does not fear, Obi-Wan told himself over and over, but fear was the overriding emotion he'd known of late and this tree, pulsating so blatantly with darkness, heightened his fear to a new elevation.

"Master Yoda, must I?" he asked, already knowing the answer. He also knew that this, the tree, was his last resort. If he could not conquer it then surely he would succumb to the madness. Or perhaps he would discover his true destiny within the tree: it had the potential to unlock the dark side within a person and convert them to an agent of evil.

In the past, once-pure Jedi had been slain by their comrades upon leaving the tree.

Obi-Wan could only hope that it wouldn't happen to him.

Wild eyed, he glanced around again, longing for something, anything, to get him out of the trial which lay ahead. He could not even sense the comforting presence which occasionally hovered at the edge of his mind, something he imagined to be Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan understood the Jedi Council's request to keep him away from Qui-Gon, the last thing Obi-Wan wanted to do was corrupt his former master and friend as he had possibly corrupted others, but he still longed for the comfort of someone who cared for him. Someone who'd treat him as something other than a specimen to be purged of darkness.

As the thought crossed his mind he looked back, musing that the reflection wasn't entirely true. Yoda had been kind. Yet it was a kindness mixed with the steely determination of a Master who had seen much suffering in the past near-millennium and cared for *all* beings, not just one.

The tree beckoned.

"What will I find in there?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Only that which you take with you," replied Yoda, and Obi-Wan knew he should not have expected a more concrete answer.

"I take my memories with me," he declared, falsifying boldness. "I take *all* of my memories."

Nothing but intent stares met his words. Obi-Wan sighed, twining his braid around his fingers in a nervous gesture. "I will go."

He turned and stepped forward. It almost sounded like the tree laughed, but it was nothing more than the wild call of a swamp creature. Obi-Wan sucked in a deep breath, the fetid scent of the swamp paling in comparison to what the tree promised. He swallowed his fear, whispered goodbye to all sanity and rational thought and Qui-Gon in the same moment, and stepped forward again to accept his fate.

Once through the opening Obi-Wan could see that the tree opened up into some kind of cave. Whether it was a true cave or some Force distortion he could not be sure, either was equally as frightening. It stretched beyond him forever.

"I am here to recover my memories," Obi-Wan called into the darkness. "I am not afraid." The answering silence mocked him.

Could the truth be found there, or was it within himself? More steps forward into the all consuming darkness and he could no longer see the exit, he could not even be sure that the exit even existed. Surrounded by inky blackness, the wild idea crossed his mind that he had always been in such a place and Yoda, Qui-Gon, the Jedi, were nothing more than figments of his imagination.

He breathed.

A plethora of images suddenly surrounded him, of the past, the present, and a multitude of possible futures or destinies. He saw an old, grey Obi-Wan sitting on the Jedi Council yet just as he reached for the image, it vanished to be replaced with a funeral pyre of an Obi-Wan his own age. Even worse, an Obi-Wan slit open from shoulder to hip, lying on the ground with blood foaming from his mouth as a red and black creature stood above him, laughing.

Old Obi-Wan shuffling through a desert, watching over a young man of approximately 20 years of age. Middle-aged Obi-Wan in formal robes at a wedding of a similar young man and woman he did not recognise. Qui-Gon rejecting Obi-Wan, casting him out of the Jedi. A young girl whispering, "my Master," her eyes filled with hero-worship.

Obi-Wan leaving the tree, his eyes blazing darkness and fury, and Eeth ignited his lightsaber and sliced off his head. Obi-Wan making love to Qui-Gon, a tangle of sweaty limbs. Being Knighted by Yoda. Older Obi-Wan carrying a baby away from a blazing palace. And the Obi-Wan as he was today, laughing, standing atop the ruins of the Jedi Temple and proclaiming allegiance to the Sith....

He whirled away from his doppelganger and the images faded, leaving him confused and troubled by what he'd seen. Which of the possible futures were real? All of them? None of them? Which did he want to be real?

"I want to feel the light side of the Force," Obi-Wan whispered to reassure himself. Again it was dark, black, silent save for the eerie creaking noise that sent a tingling down his spine because he *knew* that sound. He knew it intimately.

The dimmest of lights began to diffuse the darkness and Obi-Wan peered forward, terrified of what he would see, knowing exactly what it was. First the ropes filtered into view, and then the seat, rocking backwards and forward accompanied by the eerie, unending creaking.

The swing. The damnable swing. And even as he stared, a ghostly figure upon it appeared, becoming more substantial with each oscillation. Although the person's back was to him, Obi-Wan recognised himself instantly.

"Hello, Obi-Wan," said the figure, the voice hollow and empty.

Obi-Wan found he could not answer.

"You seek the truth. I am the truth. I am the other half of your mind and in me are all the answers." A pause, punctuated by more creaking as the swing rocked back and forwards. "All you have to do is embrace me."

"Embrace you?"

"Yes," said that oddly calm, familiar voice. "I am everything you are not; I am your weird brother hidden inside. Only together we can be whole." The other Obi-Wan turned to face him, and Obi-Wan gasped. The man stood tall, proudly, aware of his beauty as he arrogantly lifted his own padawan braid and ripped it from his head. "We do not need this. We are stronger without it."

The dark creature sauntered forwards, swinging his hips, and a stray ray of light caught the inky black orbs which were his eyes. "Come to me, Obi-Wan," he hissed.

The swing still rocked.

Obi-Wan knew he was looking at absolute evil.

His doppelganger opened his arms for the embrace, smiling, and it seemed as if saliva dripped from the mouth in delicious anticipation. "Love me." It threatened to consume him whole.

Indecision waged a war inside Obi-Wan. The part of him that was so scared of everything that had happened since his awakening wanted to run screaming forever and forget this had ever happened. The rest of him knew that if he was ever going to conquer the darkness, he had to embrace it, yet there were no guarantees he could be saved.

Holding an image of Qui-Gon in his mind, the only person he associated wholly with lightness and good, Obi-Wan stepped forward.

He let the evil hands come up to his head and tug him forwards to that waiting mouth in a parody of an intimate kiss. The fetid breath of not-Obi-Wan passed into him and he spasmed at the invasion, now the darkness was crawling *within* him as well. Perhaps it had always been there.

He bore it stoicly as the lips melded with his own, feeling an infusion of sorts as the other Obi-Wan exhaled, a deathly kiss which lasted forever. Images, feelings, *dark*, racing into him and consuming him, until finally the flow stopped, and the reverse began.

His head feeling light, Obi-Wan opened his eyes to see the dark creature watching him, hands holding him so tightly that he could not escape even if he wanted to. And he did want to, he *had* to get away as he realised, in horror, that his doppelganger was now sucking the *light* out of him. "No," he managed to moan against the mouth and the grip of the hands on his head grew stronger, crushing his face to the other.

No! his mind shrieked as he struggled to get away, his hands and legs flailing but to no avail. He felt something rip at his head and noticed almost numbly that his braid had been torn away; sticky blood now trickled from its former position. Absolute terror coursed through him: the braid had been his last connection to the Jedi way of life and now it was gone. His last connection to Qui-Gon.... Master! It was a mental shriek more than anything else and Obi-Wan's last resort, the only thing he could cling to as the monster raped his mind and body.

And following the shriek came a wave of support and love, enough for Obi-Wan to tear himself away from the beast that wasn't him anymore and ignite his lightsaber. Clinging to the touch of Qui-Gon in his mind, Obi-Wan desperately plunged the blade forward and not-Obi-Wan screamed. The eyes changed from black to blue-green and a pained smile drifted over the face. "You killed us both..." he whispered, slumped to the ground, and vanished.

Obi-Wan stood there, stunned, breathing heavily, dimly aware of the fact that his head was bleeding and that he should leave, but part of him was elated for he had won. He'd won, he'd beaten the dark creature, he'd proven he wasn't evil.

And the swing creaked.

And he screamed.

Qui-Gon burst through the forest, clearly shocking the breath out of Eeth. Yoda merely turned to greet him calmly and said, "Expecting you, I was."

Qui-Gon didn't dignify the statement with a response. "Obi-Wan needs me," he gasped, taking quick stock of the surroundings and the tree. "I must go to him."

Yoda sagely lifted one hand. "Wait. He must finish this himself."

"No," protested Qui-Gon, a chill coursing through him as he heard the anguished scream of his former padawan. He pushed forwards past the two Jedi and closer to the tree. "I heard him call for me. You *must* let me help him!" He wasn't going to lose Obi-Wan again, he'd already been through that hell and he knew he could not endure such a loss again. If Obi-Wan died, Qui-Gon silently vowed that he would never take another padawan, and he would never let anyone get close to him again. It hurt too much. And if that was the only lesson the past five years taught him, it was enough.

To be in a world without light, without love, would be tragic indeed, yet Qui-Gon knew he would endure it as best he could because he did not want to be hurt again, and he did not want to betray Obi-Wan's memory. To hold Obi-Wan in his heart would be enough - it had to be enough! For there was now no sound at all to be heard, nothing along their bond, just emptiness, and the evil tree loomed beyond.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon whispered, wondering why the pain was suddenly different, it seemed to attack him from more angles than the pain of the loss of his padawan. The pain whispered to him that there was something more, something intangible at present, yet it promised sweetly in his ear and heart...if only Obi-Wan was alive.

And to his complete and utter surprise, Obi-Wan emerged from the tree-cave. Scratches covered his body, chunks of his hair had been torn out, and his robe was soiled and dirty. Yet he stood tall and proud, there was a steadfast serenity in his eyes as he nodded his head in greeting. "Masters," he said evenly. He lived.

"Obi-Wan!" gasped Qui-Gon, grasping Obi-Wan's shoulders gently and intently studying the face he knew and loved. "Are you all right?" He reached for their bond, only to find Obi-Wan shying away from his mind touch.

"I have been better," Obi-Wan managed a wry smile, "but yes, I am all right." Pulling away from Qui-Gon he knelt before Yoda and Eeth. "I have conquered the darkness, Masters," he said.

Yoda surveyed him seriously. "Defeated it, you have," he finally granted. "Knew you would, I did." The barest hint of a mischievous smile crossed Yoda's face before he turned, beckoning to Eeth to accompany him, leaving Obi-Wan alone with Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan shot a troubled glance back at the tree. "I should feel better if we leave this place," he murmured and Qui-Gon quickly agreed. Despite the fact that Obi-Wan had survived, the tree was still strong with the Dark side and the tendrils pulsed through the Force, reaching for those nearby. Qui-Gon suppressed the urge to shiver, feeling glad Yoda had never presented him with the Test of the Tree.

They chose a random direction which took them alongside the swamp, yet it was an alive swamp and pleasant to look at; a welcome change. Neither said anything for a long time.

Finally, Qui-Gon paused. "Your head," he said, lightly touching the soft hair yet careful to keep his distance from the strange, silent man. "I fear that a stray leaf or branch might catch on the wound and cause it to re-open. Will you allow me to heal it?"

Obi-Wan stopped by way of acquiescence. Concentrating on the task, Qui-Gon gently placed a hand above the wound where the braid had been and sent healing energies, extending his use of the Force to cover other minor abrasions too. Obi-Wan accepted this, his eyes wide open.

"Thank you, Master," he said when Qui-Gon was finished.

"You are most welcome...Padawan?" The term was a question, because from all appearances, Obi-Wan had torn out his own braid and to do such a thing meant the rejection of the Jedi way of life. The thought pained Qui-Gon. To lose now through *choice* was almost incomprehensible.

Obi-Wan sighed. "I do not know," he admitted. "The Council may not permit me to rejoin the Order."

Qui-Gon was stunned at how calm, how distant Obi-Wan was being about all of this. Was he in shock? Or was it something more? "Obi-Wan, tell me," he implored. "What did you learn in the cave?"

Swallowing hard, Obi-Wan tugged on Qui-Gon's arm and pulled him over to a large rock, upon which they both sat. Obi-Wan stared straight ahead as he began to speak, his hands clenched together in his lap. "I learnt that I need you in my life," he admitted. "Perhaps it is a weakness of mine, but only by calling to you did I have the strength to...." His voice trailed off and his eyes clouded as he relived the horror. "Thank you, Qui-Gon."

"I did nothing more than send support through our bond," Qui-Gon hastily reassured. "It was *you* who did the work, you who conquered your fear."

"Then why am I still so afraid?" The voice sounded oh so young, so innocent, as if it were a child sitting next to Qui-Gon. He noticed that Obi-Wan was trembling. Wanted to reach out to him, but didn't dare.

"Obi-Wan, tell me what's wrong."

And in response, Obi-Wan whirled to face him and threw himself into Qui-Gon's arms, holding him so close, still shaking violently. As his arms automatically closing around the younger man's back, Qui-Gon soothed, "Everything is all right, Obi-Wan. Just close your eyes and rest in me."

Obi-Wan did so for a long, long while as Qui-Gon stroked his back, comforting him as if he were a small child again and perhaps it was exactly the comfort Obi-Wan needed. It was a second homecoming, one that spoke of the trust that now and forevermore bound them together.

"It will take time for you to accept what has happened, but I will be here for you," Qui-Gon promised when Obi-Wan's trembling finally subsided.

A head lifted from his chest to look at him directly, and a thousand emotions swirled in the blue-green eyes. "You don't understand," he said dully.

Qui-Gon stared at him blankly, not daring to probe their bond. Already, his mental support for Obi-Wan had done damage despite the fact of his good intentions. It was not right that Obi-Wan should rely on him so, yet he was oddly comforted by the notion. He also knew that he had to listen to Obi-Wan *now*, no matter how painful the truth was to hear. "Tell me, Obi-Wan," he invited. "Tell me so that I can understand. The tree, the cave-"

Shaking his head violently, Obi-Wan protested, "It's not that! The tree was a means of facing my *fear*, nothing else. Despite the promises of Master Eeth, it did not return to me what I had lost."

"Obi-Wan," protested Qui-Gon, "it *did*. You have found yourself, I sensed it the moment you left the tree. You are in control of yourself and your emotions - the dark cannot take you-" A sharp intake of breath caused him to break off.

"Don't you understand?" Obi-Wan burst out. He was crying now, tears pouring from his frightened eyes. "I don't know what happened to me and I *never* will!"

"There is still...?" Qui-Gon dispensed with words and felt bold enough to reach into Obi-Wan's mind, knowing that he was needed. He tread lightly through the new-found peace and the even newer confusion, down to the layer of memory. The hole remained.

"It doesn't matter," Qui-Gon whispered into his hair. He held Obi-Wan close, feeling relieved that Obi-Wan had finally dispensed with the struggle for serenity and let go. The younger man sobbed into his shoulder, pouring out his frustration and agony and despair which Qui-Gon accepted, and in doing so, diminished. "The memories are not important, Obi-Wan," he repeated, hoping Obi-Wan would believe him. "The incident in the cave proved that you are not tainted, therefore the past is only that: the past.

"We must live in the moment," continued Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan was still crying, but it seemed the tears were lessening somewhat. "I grieve with you for your loss and at the same time, I look forward to the new memories you will create. Every instant of every day grants us the chance to experience the wonder of life, we can appreciate the world or do something meaningful. The past does *not* matter," he reiterated.

Finally, Obi-Wan's tears subsided. "Do you really mean that?" he asked, the aftermath of crying causing small sobs to break up his speech.

"With all of my heart," Qui-Gon declared. "It is *you* who is important to me, not your past. I will always cherish our early years together and I do regret the time you were not with me, but believe me when I tell you this, Obi-Wan, those missing years just *are*. They aren't good, neither are they bad."

"They just - happened," Obi-Wan concluded for him. He noticed the wet patch on Qui-Gon's shoulder and looked faintly embarrassed. "Here I am, twenty-one years old, and crying like a child."

"Sometimes we need to cry, my Obi-Wan." The endearment caught them both by surprise and Qui-Gon realised that his arms were still wrapped - rather tightly - around Obi-Wan's body, as were Obi-Wan's arms wrapped around his. Qui-Gon managed a half grin.

"It seems were are still bound to one another, Master," Obi-Wan said lightly and Qui-Gon was gratified to see the smile on the young man's face.

"Indeed we are."

The trip back to Coruscant was a decidedly happier affair than the trip out. For one thing, Yoda and Eeth had elected to leave ahead of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, something which caused Obi-Wan to remark that he was sure Eeth and Yoda would find plenty of excitement in each other's company. Qui-Gon had responded with a teasing reprimand.

There was much light banter between the pair now that the heavy issues had finally come to light and been discussed. Obi-Wan knew it would take him a while to fully accept the truth that he would probably never know what had happened to him, but with Qui-Gon as his master and friend he felt confident that he would not only survive, but succeed.

His friend. The early days were very much about friendship, learning about the other person all over again. Obi-Wan reflected that Qui-Gon hadn't really changed at all, or perhaps it was the return of his padawan that caused him to revert back to the kind, gentle and just a little rebellious man he always was.

However, Obi-Wan recognised changes within himself: no longer a laughing, dancing padawan, he had matured into a man more subdued and cautious but still possessive of a wry sense of humour. Obi-Wan was never more glad when Qui-Gon said to him, in all seriousness one night, that he enjoyed the adult Obi-Wan's company even more so than he'd loved the company of the child.

It had been a wonderful moment between them.

"Master!" exclaimed Obi-Wan, the excitement in his voice obvious as he looked up from the communique. "The Council has granted you permission to train me."

It was the last day of travel and the agonising wait for official word of their status had been weighing heavily on both minds. Qui-Gon immediately dropped the report he was making and read the message over Obi-Wan's shoulder, a smile breaking out over his face as he did so.

"Well, then, it seems that you have been right and I have been wrong."

"In what manner, Master?"

There was a twinkle in Qui-Gon's eyes. "You have been calling me 'Master' all this time, but I am afraid I have been remiss in calling you padawan...Padawan."

To finally hear the word was a joy to both of them. Obi-Wan spun around and his eyes, too, were shining. "There is just one thing missing," Qui-Gon continued.

Obi-Wan watched as Qui-Gon reached to his own head and, using the Force, disconnected a lock of hair which he quickly plaited into a braid. "Padawan?" he asked, Obi-Wan's smile granting him all the permission he would ever need.

He very gently attached the new braid to the side of Obi-Wan's head, not quite in the position of the old one but a little higher, knowing that Obi-Wan's own hair would grow in time. But this braid would do for now.

"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan said, his voice coloured with sincerity and love. He closed his eyes, opening his mind fully to his master as he was now permitted, and felt a wave of admiration and love come over him, decorated with the vibrancy of the Force. It was a true bond.

He reached out and pulled Qui-Gon into a tight embrace, knowing without needing to check that Qui-Gon was there in front of him, and the return of the hug was a promise of fervent nature. Something new and strange pulsed between them and it was right.