I also tried to come up with a clever title, but since it is obviously written in the style of a favorite movie, I decided to leave it at that. However, you will find that this story is quite a bit darker than the movie. Please let me know what you think about it. I'm a little bit out of my box here...
It's a Wonderful Life, Obi-Wan
His hands were not his own. He had never seen these hands before, at least not like this. They were trembling violently, the blood stains running across fingertips that were not his own, palms that were not his own, onto a stranger's wrists. Padme's blood, Anakin's blood, and Qui-Gon's blood. All intermixed and intermingling in his outstretched grasp and suddenly forming a film over his eyes until all he could see was red. Utter despair swept through him. The Force had abandoned him and he had failed. He had failed his mentor, he had failed his apprentice, and he had failed the woman he loved. She was dead and he felt mentally exhausted and physically numb.
Looking down from the extreme height of the Coruscant office building, he was surprised to discover he wasn't afraid. It was going to be so easy to just step out and fall. Below him was a certain death that would come quickly, painlessly. Qui-Gon would be there waiting for him and perhaps so would Padme, even though he never told her how he felt. She had to be there. It was the only hope he had left.
He raised one heavy boot and hovered it in the stillness of the night and then closed his eyes.
Leaning forward and feeling the pull of gravity on his weary body, he was shaken to reality by the voice of a man crying out further down the dark rooftop. The voice was screaming for help. Obi-Wan hesitated briefly and then ran to assist the figure who was dangling precariously from the ledge.
He pulled with his own physical strength, finding the man much heavier than expected, and then tentatively reached out to the Force to assist him. His chest filled with a deep calming breath as he discovered a small tendril of the Force winding through his tortured soul, aiding him, guiding him, giving him the strength he needed to pull the stranger up and onto the damp surface of the roof.
Sitting down opposite the stranger, Obi-Wan caught his breath and looked for the first time into his face. This had to be some cruel Sith joke. Before him was a high broad forehead, deep-set blue eyes, a nose that appeared to have been broken one too many times, a ragged beard sprinked with gray and brown and matching long lengths of hair tied back from the forehead. Obi-Wan could not believe his own eyes, and doubted his other senses as well, but powerless to stop himself, he reached out his hand to the prone leg in front of him in order to confirm the vision was real. His hand trembled as it felt warmth and firm muscle beneath his touch, and he pulled back abruptly. This was not a Force apparition, but a real sentient being.
The man smirked at his physical response and then spoke, "Thank you, young Jedi. You saved my life."
The words were haunting to him, but not as much as the voice. Obi-Wan found himself having trouble speaking but soon muttered out a name as dear to him as his own. "Qui-Gon?"
"Ah, my friend. You are mistaken. My name is Quinn." The all-too-familiar face then peered skyward as if listening to an unheard voice and then once more spoke, though not to Obi-Wan. "Yes Masters, I was getting to that."
Obi-Wan had not detected any movement in the Force and could not detect the Force in the being in front of him. He was not a Jedi. When the man spoke to him once again, he began to question the gentleman's senility.
"I have been sent here to help you Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan pondered his statement for a while. "Sent. Who sent you?" His comment was laced with sarcasm.
"Let's just say, some very old friends."
"Ah. Well, that's nice. You take care now." He sympathetically patted Quinn's knee before rising to walk away, his heart becoming heavy once more with the grief so prevalent in his life. He would contact security before he left the building to report the strange man. Maybe he could be taken to a shelter or mental institution to get the help he obviously needed.
Quinn stood then, his dark gray cloak sweeping the rooftop, his height familiarly towering over Obi-Wan. "You were about to do something that you should not do, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan turned to look at the disheveled figure. "Okay. If you're not who I think you are, and you are not Jedi, how did you know what I was going to do? And how do you know my name?"
"Those of the Force know all things."
Obi-Wan's eyes squinted in concentration, once more focusing his own sensitivities on the stranger. He could detect no presence of the Force. The man must be crazy.
"You are not Jedi. I sense no Force in you." His patience was starting to run thin.
The tall figure leaned down to peer into the young man's eyes. "I did not say the Force was in me. I am the Force."
"Uh huh." Obi-Wan backed away slightly. "You go down and see the front security guard. I'm going to talk to him and see if there is some place you can spend the night and then maybe get you some help." Obi-Wan turned and headed toward the turbolift, but was stopped in his tracks at Quinn's next words.
"It is not I who needs help Obi-Wan. It's Senator Amidala."
Obi-Wan felt his heart wrench at the mention of her name. In a strained voice, he turned violently toward the stranger. "Padme is dead."
"Is she?" The man's eyes held Obi-Wan's in a questioning glance.
"Yes. I was there. Iassisted with her delivery.There were...complications. She died in my arms. I couldn't help her." Tears threatened and began to spill down Obi-Wan's face.
"And your apprentice?"
The shocking reply of the looming figure now standing in front of him momentarily stunned him. He wasn't sure where this man had gotten his information. The awful events occurring in his life the man was speaking of had just happened in the past few days. No one could know of them. Who was he?
Maybe he was the one that was crazy; confiding in a complete stranger like he was. But for some reason, whether it was from the man's familiar looks, his composure or his voice, Obi-wan felt comfortable and relieved to be able to finally talk to someone about everything that had happened. The man was probably insane anyway, so what would it hurt?
"My apprentice is dead as well."
"Hmm." Quinn replied, before crossing his arms in a familiar gesture, hiding his hands inside the sleeves of his cloak. "And your Master?"
That was enough. "Who are you? Why are you asking me all these questions when all I want to do is forget. I just want to forget. Please, let me forget." Obi-Wan slumped once more to the rooftop, his body shuddering with spilling grief.
"And you felt the best way to do that was to end your own life?" Quinn was kneeling in front of him.
"My life." Obi-Wan laughed cynically. "My entire life, I haven't been able to help anyone. Everyone I ever loved has died...in my own hands." Obi-Wan held out his hands once more, the elusion of blood seeping through the layers of skin, staining and running through the creases. "I wish I had never been born."
"You shouldn't say that."
"It's true. If I wasn't here, Qui-Gon would have had another apprentice, one that would have fought better, been faster - one that could have beaten the Sith. Someone else would have trained Anakin and done a much better job at it than I did. He wouldn't have turned to the Dark Side. He wouldn't have attached himself to Padme, and Padme would still be alive." His words tapered off to a tortured whisper. "I wish I would have never been born."
Quinn looked up skyward once more and shook his head solemnly. "Granted." Was his simple reply.
Obi-Wan looked up at him, confusion written on his face. "What?"
"Granted." Quinn repeated. "You've never been born. Obi-Wan Kenobi does not exist. He never did."
Obi-Wan quickly stood, looking down at the kneeling stranger as if he had lost his mind. "You're crazy." He turned to exit the rooftop, his hand automatically reaching to his left side to check his lightsaber, but he found it wasn't there. He spun to face Quinn. "What did you do with my lightsaber!"
"I didn't do anything. You don't have one. You're not a Jedi. You never were. You don't exist."
Maybe he dropped it when he was standing on the ledge of the building, Obi-Wan thought. When he left, he would have to see if he could find it before someone else did. He turned to palm open the door, only to find that he couldn't. In fact, he couldn't draw on the Force at all. He suddenly felt very cold and empty, a shallow and dark shell without the familiar light inside filling himm, guiding him. He suddenly felt more lost than he was before.
Quinn stepped up to his side and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Come."
Obi-Wan numbly followed the man into the turbolift. On the ride down, he glanced occasionally and quietly at the stranger and began to feel quite sorry for him. "Do you have a place to stay? Perhaps Master Yoda would let you stay in the Temple. We could also get you something to eat there. The food's not that great, but it's filling. We could also find you a new set of clothes. Those look pretty worn out."
The man looked down at his tattered gray cloak, a small grin appearing on his face, and a twinkle in his blue eyes.
The city seemed abnormally quiet, its streets deserted, and overhead, the usual heavy traffic was thin. The streets seemed darker than usual and Obi-Wan, dressed in his dark brown Jedi robe was hidden amongst it shadows. He and his companion soon entered the Temple and Obi-Wan gasped at what he saw. The main foyer was torched, burned beyond recognition. Blaster marks were everywhere along with the scent of death. Something horrible had happened, but when? He had been with Padme only yesterday and returned to Coruscant this morning. Everything was normal, other than himself. He had been so distraught in his grief, he had meditated throughout most of the day on that rooftop before finally deciding to end it all. But there was no way that this could have all happened without him knowing it. He was completely confused and so he turned to the only person who seemed to be able to give him any answers, even though they were not making any sense. "What happened here? Where are all the Jedi?"
"There are no more Jedi. They are all dead. The Dark Lord has taken control of the Galaxy. He and his apprentice, Darth Maul now rule." Quinn stated matter-of-factly.
Obi-Wan felt a fury burst forth from within at the mention of the blasted sith. "No. I killed him. I cut him in half. He's dead."
"You weren't there to kill him, Obi-Wan."
"But I did. During the Battle of Naboo, right after he struck Qui-..." he found himself unable to finish his sentence.
"There was no battle on Naboo. The Trade Federation took over the planet without a fight."
Obi-was afraid to ask his next question. "What about my Master? Did...did the Sith kill him?"
Obi-wan felt a small measure of relief at the information and audibly sighed.
"Master Qui-Gon Jinn died on Jardin-III two years before Naboo."
"No. We defeated the Jardin dictator and brought peace to that planet. We were victorious."
"Obi-wan," Quinn's voice was deep and hushed as he met the young Jedi's shocked gaze. "You were not there to save Qui-Gon. He was killed when the Jardinian special forces attacked the capitol."
"No...no...no.." was the only thing Obi-Wan was capable of saying as he turned and fled the abandoned and burned Jedi Temple.