Tucked up to
Garen’s side, Obi-Wan pretended not to hear the soft whispers
following them as he moved gingerly after his friend to the meeting
spot with the others. He was fully aware that somewhere behind them,
a fair distance actually, Qui-Gon was quietly trailing them in worry
for Obi-Wan’s condition but choose not to feel offended over that.

Force knew if his
padawan who was missing in slavery for two years was returned, he
wouldn’t be wholly comfortable out of his sight either.

“You okay
Obi-Wan? You’re kind of shivering,” Garen asked, glancing worriedly
down at him as they continued shiver. “If you’re tired we can
stop.” He quickly offered.

Smiling slightly,
Obi-Wan gave a slight head shake. “Not tired. I’m cold Garen, I
don’t have any body fat left to keep me warm and despite wearing a
thick layer, my body is still… adjusting.” He explained softly to
his friend while not getting into details.

Honestly he didn’t
think those details were for anyone but his master and the healers
trying to help him really.

Garen face eased a
bit at the information though and he nodded before stripping his robe
off and throwing it around his friend with a smile. “Well, I’m
plenty warm so you can borrow my robe.” He said in a faux light
tone.

But Obi-Wan
appreciated the attempt at normality since most of the temple wasn’t
quite sure how to treat him.

So far most had
either settled on ignoring what had happened to Obi-Wan or treating
him with exaggerating carefulness as if he could break apart at
touch.

Not that Obi-Wan
outright minded the latter behavior all the time.

There was very
little left of the prideful padawan he had once been and he knew that
he wasn’t fully healed, not with how Qui-Gon could reach around his
waist with his hands and touch fingers. And that was without
mentioning his mind.

The wounds of his
body may be healed and scars left behind.

The wounds of the
mind was a wholly different set of maim that wasn’t as easy to fix,
even for Jedi.

He was fragile, he
shivered a lot, sometimes he had flashback and a wrong touch to the
scars on his neck or wrists could send him into panic attack and he
didn’t want to think what would happen if someone tried to hold him
down at this point which was why Qui-Gon was pointedly staying away
from the public sparring salle and instead booking the private ones
for Obi-Wan’s katas and physical therapy, slow as it was going with
rest days.

So instead he
smiled softly up at his friend while tucking the large robe around
himself.

He also noted to
himself that it shouldn’t be this large, that he and Garen weren’t
that dissimilar in size.

‘I may be the
same height but I’m clearly smaller thanks to all the muscle and
weight I shed.’ Obi-Wan noted to himself, wondering if perhaps he
seemed even smaller because he folded in on himself.

Before he could
spiral more into his self doubt, he was interrupted by Garen.
“Obi-Wan?”

Looking up, he
found Garen having one hand raised, moments away from touching him
and when he was sure Obi-Wan was watching, he placed his hand down
with a smile, nodding. “Just down this way, Bant and Reeft are
waiting on us.”

Smiling while
leaning into the touch, Obi-Wan nodded, letting Garen guide him to
the room and open it only to almost be swept off his feet at the
outpouring of love and concern from his friends as Bant actually did
sweep him off his feet to hug him.

“Obi!”

His master
instantly reached out in the Force with concern in case Bant’s
overwhelming action triggered a panic attack only for Obi-Wan to hug
her just as fiercely in return, burying his face into her salt
smelling skin for comfort.

Obi-Wan was home.

Home and safe.