Need Chapter XVIII - Obi-Wan
by Esmeralda
Obi-Wan stared upwards, his eyes fixed on nothingness. The pain had receded to a dull, bruising ache; leaving him oddly numb and hollow. *Poisoned*?...*He was poisoned*...It didn't seem real...but he knew it was. Even without the Force, he could already feel the Mindus burning through his blood, tainting his flesh. He lay, in silent wonder, at the bitter irony of it all.
All his life, he had only ever wanted to be a Jedi...a *Knight* - and it was almost within his grasp. As a child he had been outgoing and gregarious, and yet he had always felt isolated; even amongst his peers. Until he had encountered Qui-Gon Jinn. Obi-Wan had felt the connection instantly; though as a 'boy' he had been unable to understand it. Years had added wisdom and experience to youthful instinct - he understood now part of what had drawn him to Qui-Gon. It was the recognition that the revered Jedi Master had also been alone.
Now it seemed everything was going to be snatched away from him...
Obi-Wan wasn't sure when his feelings for his Master had changed. He wasn't even sure they *had* changed. It seemed to have been a natural, steady progression - from awe and respect, to affection...to love. He did *love* Qui-Gon, with a fierceness he still found frightening - especially since...Naboo. Even now, as he remembered what had happened, a bitter coldness crawled over him.
His Master had always seemed an unstoppable force. Qui-Gon had been injured on occasion, but only rarely, and never badly. Never...until...
(((Obi-Wan had felt his Master's weariness, as the Sith Lord had rained blow upon blow against the exhausted Knight. Trapped and helpless, he had stood by, as his unbeatable Master was driven back. Standing so close to the laser wall it had scorched his hair and tunic, he had willed his Master to succeed. As though by strength of purpose alone, they could defeat this darkness.
Unconsciously Obi-Wan had reached out to his Master - and had felt fear?...He reeled as he realised the fear was for *him*! Qui-Gon was fighting to prevent the Sith from reaching *him*! Stunned by the realisation Obi-Wan had pulled back - too late; Qui-Gon had sensed him, and felt his shock.
The Sith had increased its attack, and his Master had again been on the defensive. Parry...strike...thrust...parry...stumble...*thrust*-. //Master?// An eerie, still silence...then Qui-Gon had looked at him; and Obi-Wan had watched as the life faded from his Master's eyes...*Nooooooo!*.)))
Tears pricked his eyes - spiky heat and the sting of salt. He brushed them away angrily. He had hidden his grief for this long, he would not burden his Master with it now. Obi-Wan could not let Qui-Gon know that fear - 'Fear that his Master...his *Bond mate*...might *die*' - Had led to him taking the sleeping draft...A desperate act which may now have condemned *him* to death.
Chapter XIX
His face taut with grief Qui-Gon struggled to his feet. Wiping savagely at the tears which seared his eyes he stumbled forward to their supplies. Dragging back the canvas covering he quickly rooted out the medi-kit. He opened it with trembling fingers - rifling frantically through the contents. But his search only confirmed what he already knew - it held nothing that could be of any use to Obi-Wan.
In silent despair he sank back down to the ground, his legs suddenly too shaky to support his weight. *Why?...Why would Obi-Wan *even* take a sleeping draft?...What had led his Padawan to such madness?* Qui-Gon felt utterly lost...*Poisoned...his Obi-Wan was...poisoned* Drawing up his knees, he buried his face in his hands; struggling to find the same calm strength his Padawan had shown.
However his emotions churned within him, worrying ceaselessly at the last remnants of his tattered self-control. He knew what was to come.
Mindus had long since been discarded by reputable apothecaries and healers. Once used in medicines intended to induce a general feeling of 'well-being', it was discovered that in many cases it was generating unpleasant side-effects - such as hallucinations and memory loss. However to those gifted with the Force, its effects were far more insidious...and deadly.
To them Mindus was dangerously addictive even in small amounts. The drug would take hold quickly - demanding higher and higher doses. However, since Mindus clouded the mind they would remain ignorant of their craving...and would blindly feed their growing need. Eventually the user would be locked in an endless nightmare - unable to distinguish reality from drug-induced hallucinations. Coma and then death usually followed. A less fortunate individual might be spared such a release and remain trapped for all eternity in a hell of their own creation.
The scarce few who had their addiction discovered before they reached the 'final stages' faced a terrible ordeal. There was no easy path back from Mindus-addiction, a user would have to stop consuming the drug immediately, and then battle their way through withdrawal - 'symptoms' which included agonizing muscle spasms, chills, fever, fits, delirium. Many went mad enduring it...some died.
Qui-Gon raised his head from his hands, the bleak despair in his eyes replaced by a sudden fierce determination *No!...He would not allow that to happen!...Not to Obi-Wan...*
Before Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon had lived in a kind of self-imposed isolation. He had not been a recluse, he enjoyed company, he had friends...lovers; but he had maintained his distance. His isolation wasn't wholly intentional, he was simply self-contained by nature. Empathic to the needs of others, he gave little thought or concern for his own.
He had been entirely content...until Xanatos. The loss of his Padawan had left a gaping hole in his soul; his stunned sense of failure only a distant ache compared to the raw pain of his broken Master - Padawan Bond. He had vowed never to undertake the training of another student...but he had not counted upon meeting Obi-Wan Kenobi.
No matter how distant, how detached, how coolly he behaved toward the boy, Obi-Wan seemed undeterred. Stubborn, persistent and recklessly brave, Obi-Wan Kenobi was an immovable, unstoppable force. Qui-Gon smiled faintly, in recollection of that determined boy. Often surprising, always challenging, life with Obi-Wan was rarely dull. His smiled faded as he remembered how close he had come to crushing Obi-Wan's youthful hopes.
His stubborn refusal to take Obi-Wan as his Padawan had eventually overcome the boy's dogged determination. Though relieved that the boy had broken off his 'pursuit', Qui-Gon had also felt a disquieting sense of 'loss.' He had ignored it...Until the moment came when he was faced with the possibility of losing Obi-Wan forever. It was only when Obi-Wan had declared his intention to sacrifice himself for Qui- Gon's sake, that Qui-Gon had realised that the boy's life was already irreversibly intertwined with his own.
He had accepted the boy unwillingly, but Obi-Wan Kenobi had filled an emptiness in his life, and now the thought of returning to that old hollow existence was unbearable. He *needed* Obi-Wan, and, without any trace of arrogance or conceit, he knew that Obi-Wan needed him in equal measure. He could not accept that they had been brought together, seemingly by the will of the Force, only to be so brutally wrenched apart.
Pushing aside his weariness, Qui-Gon stood, a little shakily, and walked to the water's edge. Kneeling down beside the purification unit, he ascertained that it was working before going back to the supplies. Taking three of the water canisters, and a handful of the protein bars, he hauled the canvas back over the rest of their provisions.
Turning, Qui-Gon paused briefly to compose himself, taking deep, steadying breaths. He was unable to completely bury his fears, they remained like knives embedded in his heart; however he was determined Obi-Wan would never know of them. The young man would need strength and courage to face the ordeal ahead. Qui-Gon chided himself bitterly, he could not afford to indulge in hysterics, tears would not help Obi-Wan; his Bond mate would need his support, his strength. There would be time later to tend to his own needs, for now Obi-Wan was all that mattered.
Obi-Wan was asleep when he re-entered the shelter. Placing the water canisters in the corner, Qui-Gon lay down carefully beside his lover. Even in sleep the young man's face was lined with pain - pale thin cheeks streaked with dried tears. Qui-Gon reached out with the Force, gently letting it flow into Obi-Wan, offering what little comfort and relief he could. He grimaced as he encountered the Mindus, its cold, poisonous tendrils curling through his Padawan's body; spreading their infection. Gently he touched the young man's mind through their Bond link, relaxing a little when he felt Obi-Wan's unconscious response.
The light outside was failing as the short day came to a close, and another long, cold night drew in. Qui-Gon made no attempt to wrest any of the blankets from Obi-Wan's white knuckled grip, instead he made do with his robe, folding it around himself as best he could. He did not expect to sleep, not with his mind torturing him with visions of the agonies to come. However eventually his weariness overcame him, and he fell into an uneasy, troubled sleep.
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