Don't own it, Lucas does.

The Universe Cries

It won't be much longer. I can already feel my heart slowing, my breath becoming shallower. Not much longer, until I join you, my dear Padawan.

Oh, I can't bear to look at you, but I can't move. So here I lay upon this blood-covered ground, looking to you. Looking at your pale, bloody face, to that grasping hand that even in death reaches to me. Then to those eyes. Your eyes were always your worst enemy, Obi-wan, and always my way of finding what was in your heart. Even the color changed sometimes, when emotion gripped you strongly enough. Tranquil blue most of the time, conveying confidence, trust, understanding, love. Murky green when you were less then confident, worried, in slight pain, or other milder emotions that troubled you. And gray, solid, pained, gray, the gray that only appeared when you were in true pain, be it emotionally, spiritually, or physically, that was what was shone. Even now, your eyes show what you felt, even in death. And I don't know whether to feel frightened or relieved at that dull look. For in those now dead eyes of yours, there is wonder, and fear mixed. What did you see in the end, Obi-wan? I will soon find out myself, I know, but that look makes me wonder.

You died reaching to me, though you could not call. That stone crushed your throat when it fell, and so I did not hear your voice. I tried to reach for you, desperate to pull you to me. My hand lies only inches from your own, but it did not make it, for a stone fell upon it then, and crushed my arm. I can't even feel the pain any longer, but that could be for the fact that boulder slammed down on my back, and probably cut my spine. It's a sad way to die, Padawan, and I am afraid of dying alone, for you have gone ahead of me. But as long as you did not go alone, for I was here, though I could not offer much comfort.

You died in pain, my dearest child, and my heart trembles at the thought. I would have gladly taken that pain from you but would that mean that you would be taking my place? For it seems that though I die without pain, I die alone, you died with pain, and not alone. No, I would not have you suffer this torment, or waiting for death, while looking over my dead form. No, that is far worst then any pain, at least for me. Its best that you have gone first, even in pain, then to follow after.

My gaze returns to your hand. It seems so small and pale in this dim light. Almost translucent to some extent. Your fingers are curled slightly, and they are covered in blood. Yours, mine? It doesn't matter any longer. I can see my hand only a little away from yours, almost touching. My own seems lifeless, bloodless, and gruesome.

I look to your face once more. Still angelic, though it is covered in dirt and blood. There is a gash under your right eye, but it seems to only define your delicateness all the more. Oh child, this should not have happened. The light within you should not have been extinguished so soon.

Your light, brighter then any I have ever seen in all my long years. Brighter then even Xanatos's, and I have told you that his was blinding when he was young, before it was swallowed by the dark. But yours was so much more brilliant. It didn't have Xanatos's blinding brightness, but it was gentle, shining pure and true even in the darkest of times. I wonder at times why I couldn't see it when I first met you. But then I realized I did when I looked after you when you were no more then an infant. I lost the ability to see that light when Xanatos ripped my heart from me. But you gave it back to me, by loving me, and offering me a way out of my own prison. What would I have become without you, little one? Would I have just grown colder as the years passed? Perhaps, for I know I would never have been happy. The Force drew us together, as father and son, and is now intent upon taking us together. Or nearly together. And that is how it should be, for I could not outlive another Padawan, and I would not want to outlive you any longer.

My light, my legacy, my Padawan, my son, my teacher. You were all these things to me, Obi-wan, and so much more. But now you won't be able to complete your destiny, because of one ill twist of fate.

It shouldn't end like this. No, it shouldn't be like this. You should be helping me fly a ship home by now, not be lying dead upon this unforgiving ground. I should have been able to sense the bomb before it went off, but with all the confusion... It's my fault, if I hadn't been so distracted, perhaps you would still be alive. Perhaps the universe wouldn't have lost a bit more hope, which I sensed was in you.

But no, it would do no good to blame myself. It wasn't my fault, nor was it yours, dear Padawan, it just happened. The assassins planed well, and we were unluckily caught in the trap. If there is blame to be placed, it should be placed with the murderers.

What happened roves in my brain. I remember the blast, and the building collapsing on top of us. I tried to protect you, but the blast ripped you from me. Then a piece of this building slammed down on top of me, pining me to the ground. You called out to me; I could hear the fear in your voice. That was the last cry from you, for a rock fell and silenced you. I saw you fall in front of me, and I had struggled to get to you, and just before I could get the rock off me, another one came crashing down on my legs, trapping them. You tried to crawl to me, but more debris fell, throwing you to the ground, and leaving you unable to rise. You reached for me then, and I tried to reach to you in that storm of rock and dust, but that boulder crashed down on my hand, then the next boulder hit me close to my neck. I felt the crack of my spine, then nothing. Then it started to quiet down, until all that was left was our ragged breathing in this closed dark space.

Your death is in front of me, even when I close my eyes. You reached for me, and smiled slightly, even though blood was starting to trickle from your nose and mouth. You always wanted to give comfort, but never receive it. I tried desperately to return your comfort with my own.

'It'll be all right, Obi-wan,' I can remember myself saying, but it wasn't all right.

I watched you as your breathing became shallower, and your eyes became distant. I could see the blood pooling around you. And then you just stopped. It seemed so sudden, and yet I was relieved. You weren't in any pain anymore. I could see the pain in your eyes before your last breath. It broke my heart to see you in such a way, Obi-wan. I hope you found peace now.

The galaxy lost something precious this day, as I did. But soon I will be joining you, Padawan. Very soon.

I can see light coming from somewhere where there was not light before. I think I can hear voices calling out to me, and the sound of falling rocks. But it doesn't matter. I'll be dead before they find me. My breathing is slowing more, and my eyes feel heavy. My heart is struggling to beat.

One thought comes to me as I die, the Universe is crying for you, Obi-wan Kenobi, and perhaps it also cries for me.

"Master?" a ringing voice, your voice, only sweeter.

"Obi-wan?" I call, and I can see you kneel in front of me.

You look amazing, the Force shines from you, and you look as I always thought, as the Force's son. Master Yoda was right...

"Its alright. Its time to come home," you say softly, gently touching my cheek with your hand.

You then take my hand, and help me to stand.

"What is it like?" I ask, looking down into your peaceful face.

"Its beautiful, Father," you say, smiling up at me.

"I know," I whisper, for now I can see what you see.

You start to walk on, leading me towards a light I am only now seeing, but I stop, and look back. Two bodies, our bodies, lay crushed by rocks, one reaching for the other. One old man, and one child, separated in death, but not in the after. I'm with you now, my son. The universe may cry for us, but we no longer shed tears.

Then I turn, and walk by your side. We are finally going home.