Pressing the other into his body, Qui-Gon let out a deep sigh. “I see… so that’s what happened.” He murmured quietly, feeling Obi-Wan tuck himself under his chin.

His little Jedi didn’t say a word but nodded, clearly done with speaking about the subject as Qui-Gon threaded his fingers through the others hair.  

Once they had returned to the quarters and finally settled down once Obi-Wan had taken a shower and changed clothes, Obi-Wan had, hesitantly, with all the timidness of an abused dog, cautiously crawled into Qui-Gon’s lap.

Beyond thrilled, Qui-Gon had quietly wrapped his arms around the small shape, sending Anakin his glee in the Force.

But then Obi-Wan had started speaking.

Told them, with quiet, stilted words, dripping with the pain the other carried inside, what had happened to him.

And Force, it was a lot to absorb, it made him grateful that Obi-Wan was so tired, having curled into Qui-Gon in search of comfort once he finished his words.

The quiet gave Qui-Gon time to think too, his mind buzzing with the information Obi-Wan had quietly shared with him and Anakin, though the latter was pacing the floor by the balcony, unable to sit still as they finally learned what had happened to their little Jedi.

Betrayal, the troopers turning on their Jedi General, his Anakin turning on him, the temple laid to waste…

It all sounded so unbelievable.

Shaak Ti had theorized that Obi-Wan’s world was a mirror world in most ways, with obvious differences due to Obi-Wan’s world being dominated by Jedi but this…

The clones adored their Sith Generals, the Generals that had claimed them and had often dipped deep into the dark side of the Force for them. Hell, Sith were mostly out for their own but the clones…

They were the Sith’s own.

They had started as a weapon handed to them to the confusion of many, after all, the Sith were their own army and warrior and yet they had somehow become something… more.

Qui-Gon wasn’t actually sure he’d be alive still if it wasn’t for Anakin and Cody, his commander was dear to him and after the loss of their Obi-Wan… Qui-Gon would admit he drifted, his rage had not tethered him to life as it had tethered Anakin, Anakin’s need for revenge and retribution was grounds to continue.

But for Qui-Gon… the loss of Obi-Wan had been the biggest of his heavy burdens.

But Cody and he 212th had become his, were important to him.

And his dear Commander and the rest of the 212th had followed suit, had claimed the Sith in return in their own way.

Absently, Qui-Gon brushed his right hand fingers over the bit of 212th orange peeking out at his left wrist, the color almost hidden away by Obi-Wan’s copper hair.

It just didn’t make sense for the troopers to turn on the Jedi, even for the Jedi that preached none attachment, their troopers would still feel almost zealously protective of them at the very least.

Glancing away from his wrist at a thump, Qui-Gon watched as Anakin stomped into the kitchen, watching the blond pulling out items with a determined look on his face.

It took Qui-Gon a moment to realize what he was up to, but when he did, he couldn’t help but smile slightly, despite his mind working furiously.

Obi-Wan had listed into him fully, not quite asleep but clearly drowsing, emotionally overwrought and overwhelmed, physically drained from running away in a blind panic and simply just mentally exhausted both from the panic but also retelling his last days in his world.

Shifting the other slightly, leaning Obi-Wan enough to the side that he could see his face, Qui-Gon smiled at the discontented little noise as his hand slipped from the others hair. “I don’t know what happened Obi-Wan to your troopers,” He stated softly, his voice rumbling soothingly. Obi-Wan blinked blearily at him, lidded eyes clearly ready for sleep. “But we’ll figure it out. And it will not repeat.” Qui-Gon promised as he shifted the other against him as Anakin came out.

Stopping at the couch, Anakin held out one of the fancy Tatooine krayt dragon glasses they had, condense gathering on the surface of the dark red glass. “And we’ll make you happy. You can be happy here Obi-Wan, with us.” Anakin promised quietly.

Blinking, glancing between the two Sith, Obi-Wan accepted the glass of Stewjon sweet iced tea.

He didn’t answer, not verbally at least.

But he slowly curled back into Qui-Gon’s body once more as he raised the glass to his lips, taking a slow sip.

Actions spoke more than words to Qui-Gon as he tucked his hand back into Obi-Wan’s hair, carding slowly as Anakin settled beside Qui-Gon’s larger bulk, the three settled together with the quiet click of ice cubes in glass being the only sounds breaking the comfortable silence settling.