By Bloody Phantom
Disclaimer: Lucas Films will forever own Star Wars, despite the change in management. Star Wars just does not seem like a Disney film to me and never will.
Two figures stepped off the ship and onto the landing pad at the Jedi Temple. The taller of the two looked around with dead eyes as he led the smaller one into the Temple. "Anakin, why don't you explore the Temple while I…" Obi-Wan paused. "…while I set a room for you in my…our living quarters," he finally said.
Anakin looked up at him with blue eyes, searchingly. For what? Obi-Wan didn't know. He finally nodded. "Yes, Master," he said, quietly before heading off.
Obi-Wan watched him go before turning down the opposite corridor. His steps led him on the familiar walk to his and his Master's living quarters…his and Anakin's living quarters. He quickly corrected. He looked down at the two bags he carried. One was his, the other…Qui-Gon's. His heart ached just thinking of his name. He closed his eyes to push away his pain. When he opened his eyes he found himself standing in front of a door. His throat seemed to close at the sight of the names on the side the door. He blinked, trying to hold the tears that had yet to fall since…since that day.
Master Qui-Gon Jinn/Senior Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi
He reached up and lightly ran his fingers over the titles and names. He fingers touched the delete button, but he didn't press it. This would be the last time to see their names next to each other…this would be the last time seeing Qui-Gon's name on a door plaque. He was hesitant to erase it from existence.
He leaned his forehead on the wall above the plaque and closed his eyes. If he was reacted like this over their names…how could he possibly enter the room? With his eyes closed, so he didn't have to see it, he used all the mental strength he could manage to push the delete button. A sound of despair escaped his lips. When he opened his eyes, the plaque was blank. Qui-Gon's name was no longer there. Missing. Gone. Like he was from Obi-Wan's life. With an aching heart, Obi-Wan reprogrammed the plaque.
Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi/Padawan Anakin Skywalker
He stared at the new names on the plaque before turning away. Becoming a Knight should have been a joyous moment, but it wasn't. Qui-Gon should have been there for Obi-Wan to, respectfully and lovingly, hand his braid to him, but he wasn't. That spot in the ceremony where Qui-Gon should have stood, remained empty, just like the heart in Obi-Wan's numb chest.
He stood in front of the door when he pushed the button to open it. The door swished opened. He stared. His feet were glued to the floor. He could still feel Qui-Gon's presence in the room, the calming presence his former Master held. Instead of calming Obi-Wan this time, it hurt him, emotionally. He forced his feet to enter. The door closed behind him. He dropped the bags on the ground.
He looked around the room, seeing Qui-Gon everywhere. Qui-Gon stepping out of the kitchen with a cup of pure black tea. Qui-Gon kneeling in front of the balcony doors, meditating. Qui-Gon sitting on the couch reviewing their latest mission. Qui-Gon stepping out of his room, tying his hair back. Qui-Gon smiling in amusement at him. Qui-Gon telling him to focus on the here and now, on the moment. Qui-Gon pulling his padawan braid to get his attention. Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan closed his eyes in pain and backed up until his back hit the door. His hand reached up and clinched his tunic above his heart. Oh, how it hurt. Physically hurt. He opened his eyes and glanced down. The memory of him was everywhere. How long will it be until he could no longer feel his Master's presence in the room?
On the stand by the door was bowl of colorful, decorative rocks. They were shades of green, blue, and gray. It was a gift from a Mon Calamari nobleman they had saved. They weren't supposed to keep any gifts, but Qui-Gon took one look at the colors and said he was going to keep them. He had found it ironic that they were the color of Obi-Wan's eyes. Obi-Wan had his first argument with him since Melida/Daan, reminding him that they were suppose to give all gifts received to the Jedi Council. Qui-Gon was, however, Qui-Gon Jinn and very stubborn. Obi-Wan had lost the argument. He didn't mind. He had secretly loved the bowl of colorful rocks. Though, he was sure Qui-Gon knew he did, which was a reason why he remained so stubborn about keeping it.
Obi-Wan touched the smooth rocks carefully. He looked up at the mirror that was hanging on the wall above the stand. It was empty, the spot where his padawan braid was supposed to be. Qui-Gon could never tug it again. He looked over his reflection's shoulders, where he half expected Qui-Gon to be with his amused smile as he finished tying his hair back. It was empty as well. He turned away from the sight. He stepped farther into the room.
It was time to get rid of everything of Qui-Gon's, he decided. He couldn't possibly be in the sleeping quarters with his stuff around. It would be too painful. He placed an expressionless look on his face, hardening himself to make this easier. With determined steps, Obi-Wan went to the closet door and opened it. He started to pull out empty boxes. He grabbed on box and went back to the stand. With no thought of being careful, Obi-Wan dropped the bowl of rocks into the box. He picked up Qui-Gon's bag and, without going through it, dropped it into box as well.
He took the box into the kitchen and placed it on the table. He reached up and opened Qui-Gon's cupboard. Obi-Wan, years ago, had decided his Master should have his own cupboard for his 'disgusting black tea'. Tea, Qui-Gon said was merely strong and right. Oh, how they would joke about the tea he drank and the tea, or an abomination as Qui-Gon called it, which Obi-Wan drank. There were quite a few packages of the tea Qui-Gon drank and next to the packages were the cups he would use. There were several of them, more than Obi-Wan had thought he had. Obi-Wan reached for the tea first. He pulled them out and threw them into the box, ignoring the sound of them landing on the rocks. He took the cups three at a time and placed them in the box as well.
"...Oh, my precious padawan, what are you doing...?" A distant, familiar, voice came from nowhere and echoed all around him. Obi-Wan shook his head, screaming at himself mentally to focus on his task. Wasn't that what Qui-Gon taught him? He pushed the foreign entity mentally away and continued his task. He couldn't think of Qui-Gon while doing this. It would make it all the more painful.
Obi-Wan then went through the cooler, throwing everything he didn't like into the trash, like the Sic-Six-Layer Cake that Qui-Gon loved but was way too much for Obi-Wan to eat. He unemotionally went through the whole kitchen, getting rid of everything Qui-Gon had liked. He wanted no reminders.
Once he was done in the kitchen, he returned to the sitting room. He placed the box down on the couch and went to the balcony doors. He reached up and started to take down the curtains. The green curtains had reminded Qui-Gon of grass and, being the Jedi of the Living Force, he loved the outdoors. Qui-Gon loved gardens and the green of trees and grass. Obi-Wan didn't bother folding the curtains. He placed them in the box and went to the stand next to the balcony doors. He took the small green plant. Obi-Wan had given the plant to Qui-Gon years ago. He was surprised Qui-Gon was able to keep the plant alive for so long. Carelessly, he dropped the plant into the box, not caring about the dirt spilling out onto the rocks, cups, and tea packages.
"...don't do this to yourself, Obi-Wan..." Obi-Wan clinched his teeth as he tried to ignore the obvious sign of insanity building up inside him. Why did he have to hear his voice in his head? He pushed the entity away once again as he went about his task.
Obi-Wan went to the wall next to Qui-Gon's bedroom door. He reached up and took down the picture frame that hung there. It was a photo of Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan standing next to some senator and his young daughter. Obi-Wan couldn't remember who it was. It was after a mission and they had saved the senator's daughter. The senator wanted a picture of them and had given them a copy of it. Qui-Gon wasn't smiling in the photo, but Obi-Wan could see the amused twinkle in his eye. Obi-Wan was standing next to him, attempting to stay as expressionless as his Master without success. It was hard when he was covered in mud from the waist down. It had smelled as well. His face was pulled back in disgust at the smell. It was Obi-Wan that had to rescue the daughter by walking through a mud pit. Qui-Gon managed to remain clean, much to Obi-Wan's frustration.
Against his wishes, Obi-Wan lips twitched almost into a woeful smile. His throat started to hurt from holding back his sobs. He took a deep breath in an attempt to regain his control over his emotions. He threw the photo into the box. He stood there and glanced around the room, checking to see if he missed anything. He didn't notice anything. The next step would be his room. As the Master of a padawan, he would move into the bigger room, Qui-Gon's room. He was saving Qui-Gon's room for last.
Obi-Wan closed the box and set it into the closet to deal with later, much later. He took two other empty boxes and headed for his room. The door swished open and he paused. Even going into his own room was hard. He could see Qui-Gon coming in to wake him, to check to see if he was doing his meditations, to see if he was doing his homework, or to comfort him over a death of a friend or after a vision. He sighed and entered the room. He placed both boxes on his sleep couch. He went to his desk and picked up his datapads and dropped them into one of the boxes. He took his clothes, much too large for Anakin, and placed them in the other box.
He glanced at his many ship models. Qui-Gon had helped him do a few of them. He could remember doing a model at the kitchen table. Qui-Gon would quiz him for an exam coming up in one of his classes as he glued a piece together. Obi-Wan would answer as he carefully applied paint to a small area of the model.
He wondered if he should leave the models for Anakin or pack them up. He knew Anakin would like them, but they were special to him. They were another reminder of Qui-Gon. He reached out and touched a model. He would leave them for Anakin. Obi-Wan turned his back to the models and went through the rest of his former room. He fixed the sheets on the sleeping couch, took the two boxes in his arms, and left the room. He placed the boxes outside of Qui-Gon's room and the last two empty boxes that he had. He stood in front of the closed door of his late Master. He dropped the boxes on the ground and braced himself against the doorway. It was harder then he thought to open the door. It felt odd opening the door without knocking. He reached out and touched the button that would open the door, but paused. He couldn't do it.
He breathed in and out, trying to gather the strength he needed to push the button. It took a moment, but he managed to push the button. The door swished opened and Qui-Gon's presence was keenly felt again. It was more powerful here then it was when he entered the living quarters.
He entered the room with feet that felt like they weighted a ton. He closed his eyes and breathed in. Qui-Gon's scent still lingered in the atmosphere, the smell of tea and fresh air of nature. He opened his eyes and glanced around.
The room was bigger than his former room. A king size sleeping couch sat in the middle of the room, the green sheets were only a little ruffled, as if Qui-Gon had just taken a quick nap on top of them. Across the sleeping couch was a closet, the doors closed. Next to the closet was a desk with a datapad on top, as if Qui-Gon would come back any second to finish reading it. There was a stand by the bed. Obi-Wan choked up when he saw what was on top of the stand. A cup, but not just any cup. A cup that Obi-Wan had made in crafts class years ago, before the Melida/Daan mission. He had given it to his Master as a thank you gift, thanking him for choosing him as his padawan.
Obi-Wan walked over and picked the cup up. There were many cracks in the cup, but Obi-Wan wasn't surprised. A few days before Melida/Daan, Obi-Wan had accidentally dropped the cup on the floor and it shattered. He was heartbroken that the cup he made for his Master had broken. Qui-Gon had sent him to class with a promise that he would clean it up. When Obi-Wan returned, the mess was cleaned up and he didn't bring up the topic of his lost cup to Qui-Gon. Upset at himself for breaking it. Qui-Gon must have picked up the pieces and glued them back together.
Obi-Wan looked inside the cup and mournfully smiled. It looked like he even used it. There was a darken stain at the bottom rim of the cup from the tea Qui-Gon drank. Obi-Wan sat on the sleeping couch and hugged the cup close to him. A few tears escaped his eyes. "You kept it," he whispered into the open air, solemnly.
"...of course, I did...favorite cup..." The same whispered voice echoed around him. Once again, Obi-Wan ignored it, doing his best to push it to the back of his mind.
He sat there for a moment before standing. He brought the boxes into the room and set them on the sleeping couch. He carefully placed the cup into one of the boxes.
He went to the closet and opened the door. The neat row of tunics greeted him. He gathered them up and placed them on the bed. They would be returned to the Temple for another tall Master to use. He placed them into the other box. His heart feeling loaded with pain at their departure. He ran his hand over the tunics in the box. He knew each tunic had a story to tell about his late Master. No one would be able to hear those stories anymore. He turned away and finished putting all of Qui-Gon's clothes into the box and sealed it up. He placed the full box next to the door to be taken care of later.
He went to the desk and sat on the chair. He threw the datapad into the box, not bothering to see what was on it. He opened the first drawer and froze. He blinked away the tears that came suddenly to his eyes. He couldn't believe his Master kept them. On top were the many drawings Obi-Wan had drawn.
He pulled the papers out. There was a big stack. It looked like Qui-Gon kept every single drawing Obi-Wan had ever done. The top drawing was wrinkled. Obi-Wan remembered crippling it up into his fist and throwing it away. He recalled Qui-Gon shaking his head and saying, "You will regret doing that, young padawan". Obi-Wan remembered that he did regret it, days later when he thought it was long gone. It was a drawing of the two of them, standing side-by-side. He drew it on the back of a list of names they needed on a previous mission. It was just a doodle he did while he was waiting to see the Council for their mission report. Obi-Wan flipped the paper over and saw the list of names. He couldn't believe Qui-Gon had fished this out of the trash and kept it.
He sighed and placed the papers into the box. He went through the rest of the desk, placing everything he found into the box. The last thing he did was take off the green sheets. He stuffed the sheets into the box. He pushed the two boxes out of the room and pulled the boxes from his room into the room. He stood and glanced around the now plain and empty room. It was like he sucked Qui-Gon out of the room, out of his life. He turned away from the sight and left the room.
He took the box of Qui-Gon's old clothes to the now empty stand by the door and set it down. He would have to take that to the donation room. He dragged the other box to the open closet and stood over it. There was another thing to place in the box before closing it up for good.
With a heavy heart, Obi-Wan reached into his pocket and grasped the familiar smooth stone. He pulled the riverstone from his pocket and stared at the black round stone. He held the stone over the box, but couldn't seem to let it go. His arms shook as his mind and heart told him two different things, let it go, don't let it go.
He stared at the stone in his hand and thought about their last mission. He should have listened to his Master, should not have fought him about the boy. He should not have distanced himself from Qui-Gon after the Council meeting deciding Anakin's fate. He closed his eyes in pain. He never told Qui-Gon he was sorry. He never told his Master what he meant to him. He never...He made a sound of despair as he wrapped his hand around the stone. His grip tightened as a few tears escaped his eyes. A boiling feeling started to surface inside him as he held the riverstone to his forehead, his grip still tightening around the smooth exterior of the rock.
Why? Why did Qui-Gon leave him? Why did he die? Why didn't he have more time? He was telling himself all throughout the mission that he would talk to his Master about his behavior and apologize. They would just sit down and talk things over, patch up their once strong relationship. With a sudden sound of anger, Obi-Wan spun around and threw the rock at the wall. "Why?" he shouted. "Why him?" He fell to his knees and stared at the rock sitting on the ground, unharmed. "I never got to say goodbye." he whispered to himself as he thought about Qui-Gon's last few moments alive. It was all about the boy. All about Anakin. There were no words of comfort, love, or last goodbyes. There was no apologizes or explanations. Obi-Wan's last moments with his Master was filled with feelings of rejection and betrayal on his part. They didn't have time to patch things up. "Master..." he moaned. He shook his head and moaned. "…should have been me."
He sat there, staring at the rock, for another few minutes as his anger shimmered back down to grief and pain. He forced himself to his feet and walked to the riverstone. He bent down and picked it back up. The surface was still warm and it buzzed lightly with the Force. Comforting, like Qui-Gon use to be, like their living quarters use to be...
His heart felt weighted down, felt heavy. He held the stone close to his heart. His legs couldn't hold him up anymore. They shook as he tried to remain standing. The feeling of grief was suffocating him, making him bend into himself. He fell to his knees once again and coiled into a ball, his forehead close to the ground, almost like he was praying. And he was in a way, praying for help, for this emotion to leave him alone. Praying for strength to get this done.
Not only did his heart felt weighed down, but his shoulders, also, felt heavy. He tried to stand tall when around people, but he was alone now, facing the empty room that had once held his Master and he was unable to keep his head up high. His throat hurt from holding back any sound. A sound escaped him though, this moaning hiccupping sound. His throat hurt from letting it escape. His arms were wrapped around his midsection for some sort of weak comfort. "Master…" he moaned again. His Master's absence was so noticeable. With his stuff packed away, it was like he was never there.
He could taste the salty tears on his lips. His skin felt dry against the salty feel of his tears. His eyes were narrowed as he tried to prevent the tears from leaving his eyes, but it was useless. The bottom of his gut felt ready to explode. Explode into what, he didn't know. But it felt like it was ready for some sort of outburst. He didn't want to do anything more than keep his current position and wait for the end.
He felt like he would never be able to smile again, or laugh. His heart was so filled with grief that any other emotion seemed to be in the past, long gone. The world seemed to be caving in. He wanted to hide from the world. He felt so lost and broken.
"…Oh, my padawan. I am so sorry…" It sounded like Qui-Gon's baritone voice. "...Forgive me..." Obi-Wan shook his head, trying to clear it, trying to block his minds attempt to hear someone who was no longer there. "…I miss you, too, padawan…"
"Go," Obi-Wan moaned quietly to himself. "Go away."
"…Don't do this to yourself, Obi-Wan…Let me in..."
Obi-Wan lifted his head from the floor. "You're dead. Leave me alone. You're dead." His grief-filled pleas were spoken quietly into the room. "Go," he choked out.
"…your grief…too strong…can't reach you…let go of your grief…padawan…"
"Go! Leave me alone!" he shouted. "You're gone." He broke down crying, heavy tears rolled down his cheeks. "You're gone." he moaned painfully. Something rested itself on his shoulders, but he knew there was nothing there.
"…I love you, my padawan…" The weight on his shoulders disappeared, slowly, almost hesitantly.
"Leave me…go…" Obi-Wan cried out mournfully. "Master…" There was no response. He shook his head. "Don't go. Don't leave me, Master. Please," he cried out, but there was still no response. "Don't go…" he moaned.
He clinched onto the riverstone like it was his life, his one link to his Master. He tried to breathe in and out, trying to calm his tears. He placed the stone back in his pocket and slowly, painfully crawled back over to the box and closed it. He laid his head on top of the closed box and cried. It felt like his heart was broken into many pieces. Why, why was it still pounding in his chest when it was so broken? How?
Once his tears were gone, Obi-Wan lifted his head. He sighed shakily before he pushed the box into the closet. He stared at the two boxes that sat still in the closet. His Master was now down to those two boxes. Never had he thought Qui-Gon could be stored in two little boxes. He forced himself to stand and closed the door, blocking them from his sight. It was time for the next stage of his life, without his Master.
Wrote when listening the song "Broken" by Lifehouse