Dearlydeparted

For Dearly Departed, how is Obi-Wan doing now that he’s back in temple?

Posted on av swmoddy

Hissing
loudly in pain as the needle slid in, Obi-Wan clenched his other hand
down on Qui-Gon’s as his eyes watered from what he knew shouldn’t
hurt as much but did at the moment. He was slowly coming down from
the over-sensitivity of his ‘awakening’ as the council and anyone
else had started to call it.

But
he was still very sensitive to impressions, still didn’t quite
handle anyone but Qui-Gon or Anakin touching him and Force, opening
himself up to the Force was a recipe for catastrophe frankly.

He
could feel everything
if he actually opened up to it and didn’t just passively allow it
to fill him, Yoda
describing Obi-Wan as having been rubbed raw by the Force in a way
when he was brought back to life, his dead body being given the tools
to breath and piss but that still didn’t mean he handled it well
and he certainly did not handle the Force well.

He
had given himself a seizure two days ago when he tried and that had
been under supervision of the entire council as no one was certain
how Obi-Wan would react and still
it went wrong, first
by him going into a seizure and then leaving him catatonic for close
to half a day.

Qui-Gon
had expressively forbidden any trials until they were more secure in
Obi-Wan being able to manage such a sudden burst of influences,
feelings and sensation from the galaxy and
Obi-Wan couldn’t help but agree.

‘Least
I can shower properly now with both sonic and water… that’s
improvement.’ He thought to himself as the healer removed the
needle, having gotten all the vials of blood from Obi-Wan that was
needed.

A
dab of bacta and then cotton was applied and he was done, Obi-Wan
breathing out in relief before whining softly and raising both hands,
his free and the one being held by Qui-Gon, towards the other man,
silently demanding.

He
got a soft smile from the gray haired man and a quick response, the
man wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan in a gentle hug.

Settling
his head on the others shoulder, Obi-Wan sniffled a bit, nuzzling
into the warm neck that smelled of home.

“Is
that all?” He smiled into the warm neck as the sound of the other
speaking rumbled through him, filling him with pleasant warmth.

“Indeed,
we can’t really start with a physical therapy yet with his
over-sensitivity to the world but keep on helping him move about the
quarters and in the gardens until we can and things should improve.
And I heard that young knight Skywalker suggested taking master
Kenobi to the pools, I quite approve of that.” The zabrak healer
said in a cheerful tone.

Qui-Gon
shifted, clearly a nod before shifting Obi-Wan and pulling back to
undo the breaks on the hoverchair. “Alright, back to our quarters
it is. Anakin is waiting for us, something about herbed lotusroot and
veg-meat.” He said in a warm tone as he rested a hand on Obi-Wan’s
knee.

Letting
out a low noise, Obi-Wan nodded tiredly.

Clearly
that was something Qui-Gon caught onto. “And a nap I’d say.” He
murmured with a small frown before standing, leaning on his cane as
he said goodbye to Healer Biore.

The
creeping dread of feeling useless and a burden cropped up in
Obi-Wan’s mind, something he quickly tried to push away as he had
for the last two weeks since he started to take in the situation
properly.

But
he couldn’t help it, feeling too sensitive and shaken, unable
to really do anything but have Qui-Gon and Anakin help him and even
then he felt like such a burden to his bondmate and his semi-padawan.

Who
was an adult now.

Force,
how could the Force bring him back like this,
just to be a burden to those he loved.

A
hand rested on his cheek and he let out a low noise, looking up with
wide eyes as he noticed they were out in the hall with Qui-Gon
standing in front of him instead of behind him guiding the chair.
‘When did that happen!?’ Obi-Wan thought with some panic that got
smothered when the man spoke.

“Love,
you are no burden to me,” Qui-Gon whispered, rubbing his cheek
gently with his thumb even as Obi-Wan flinched a bit at having
broadcasted his thoughts clearly. “I would do anything
for you and you can’t imagine how my world has been since you
left,” Qui-Gon stopped talking, swallowing heavily. “You are a
gift my love, one I would never scorn.”

Staring
up at the other man, Obi-Wan lifted a shaking hand to his cheek,
covering Qui-Gon’s large palm with his before hiccuping. “I’m
sorry… I didn’t mean to leave, I’m sorry I’m broken, I’m so
sorry.” He whimpered out, crying when the other leaned down and
hugged him, the cane clattering to the floor as they cried into each
others shoulders in the open hallway in the temple where anyone could
have seen them.

“I’m
so sorry.”

“Don’t
leave me again Obi-Wan, just don’t leave me.”

#DearyDeparted is amazing! What happens when they reach the temple? Is Obi-Wan going to be okay?

Posted on av swmoddy

Shivering
faintly, Obi-Wan glanced about the hall as he was pushed along by
Anakin,
his hand settled in his lap with a pair of sunglasses perched on his
nose and a hood held up high to provide some cover. His other hand
was being held by Qui-Gon as the man carefully walked beside the
hoverchair with a cane held in his hand.

Often
the man would gently squeeze his hand in reassurance, prompting
Obi-Wan to glance up and receive a smile from the white haired man.

White.

He
may be in pain, overwhelmed and so painfully slow improving but he
was not stupid.

Time
had passed since Obi-Wan had ended up in the earth and he had come
out from under
the earth.

Obi-Wan
had died.

It
was the only thing that made sense, even though that didn’t really
make sense either. If Obi-Wan had been dead
that meant that he had also come back to life.
And the Jedi’s way of life was to continue on, letting go when
death happened so Qui-Gon would not have brought him back nor would
anyone else.

And
yet…

Here
Obi-Wan was.

Sensitive
to light, to smell and touch, the merest breeze actually hurting him
even though he was getting slightly better though he had not dared
reach for the Force even to feel the bond between himself and
Qui-Gon.

‘If
it’s even there,’ A part of him whispered fearfully. ‘If I
died, that means the bond would have broken… but if I returned…
did it also re-mend itself?’ Obi-Wan wasn’t sure but he hoped so
because if anything he needed Qui-Gon right now.

And
it wasn’t exactly hard to notice he was being stared at, people
stopping up to watch the small procession through the halls with one
padawan outright smacking into a pillar when they passed on their way
to the elevators.

He
knew where they were going as he clung to Qui-Gon’s hand.

The
council chambers.

He
had heard Anakin and Qui-Gon hold a whispered conversation about it,
the former wanting to take Obi-Wan straight to the healers but the
council had insisted that
Obi-Wan appear in the chamber before anything apparently.

‘As
they well should have. No one has any idea what I am, what if I was
dangerous?’ He mused to himself as he raised Obi-Wan’s hand to
his face and leaned his cheek on it, breathing in the scent of sapir
and Qui-Gon.

When
he opened his eyes again, he was being wheeled into the council
chamber and it made him wonder if he just fell asleep or had blacked
out for a moment even as he glanced around the room, noting with
relief that the shutters were down to provide additional darkness
since it was a bright morning on Coruscant at that moment.

And
then he just stared around the room because there were council
members, some new and some old but more importantly he could see the
age passed on them too.

New
wrinkles, gray hair, lines in the face, slumping of shoulders and
Force, if Qui-Gon and Anakin hadn’t been enough, this would have
been.

For
several minutes no one said anything, only stared at each other
before Yoda jumped off his chair and hobbled over, his cane gently
touching the marble floor until he stood in front of Obi-Wan staring
up at him.

Blinking
back, Obi-Wan tiled his head a bit from the shadows of his hood as
Yoda’s ears twitched while watching him before he reached out and
rested his claws on Obi-Wan’s knee with a soft smile. “Painful it
may be, but happy I am, to see you again young Obi-Wan.” He
murmured, giving his knee the gentlest of squeezes.

Letting
out a soft noise, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but quirk his lips up into
a small smile, raising his head as the rest of the council shifted to
their feet and came over, all of then carefully touching Obi-Wan and
greeting him kindly.

Welcoming
him home after what was thought to be a forever absence.

What happens next in Dearly Departed? Are Qui-Gon and Anakin able to help Obi-wan? Does Obi-wan even know that he was dead?

Posted on av swmoddy

Obi-Wan
needs constant contact with one of them.

Qui-Gon
doesn’t mind, holding Obi-Wan’s hand or crawling into bed with
him… Force he would have given anything to have it and now he has
but he worries about the pain Obi-Wan goes through.

The
healers, in session with the council, had theorized that Obi-Wan
return to the world of the living was making him overstimulated
because just as a newborn babe, everything was new
once more.

Obi-Wan
however was more developed than a baby and therefor felt everything
more keenly and that included the Force. Or so Anakin had told him,
Qui-Gon hadn’t been there for the session since Anakin had been the
one to contact and speak with the temple.

The
had also wired over more credits, to book them a new trip back on a
luxury cruise ship of all things but Obi-Wan needed the quiet and
isolation one of their cabins would provide and Qui-Gon was just…
grateful that the council considered that.

They
still had to silence the world around Obi-Wan when it was time to
leave, putting earplugs in his ears and keeping the sleeping mask on
him as Qui-Gon held onto the mans hand while shuffling along slowly
beside the hover bed to
the medical shuttle transport they were taking to the luxury liner.

It
was enough to keep him quiet as
Qui-Gon refused to let go of his hand as he settled down in his seat
in the medical transport.

Hopefully
with
enough
time Obi-Wan
would readjust
to the world because
it hurt like hell to see him like this, curled up in fetal position,
unable to even take a shower or brush his hair without flinching or
cowering.

“Well
be reaching the Arconia in a few minutes,” Anakin suddenly spoke,
drawing Qui-Gon’s attention to the sadly smiling knight with the
hypospray in one hand as the young man stood from his seat. “We’ll
want to set this before we reach it and have it in effect before we
go through the crowds.” Anakin sighed and moved to Obi-Wan’s
side, stroking the others face gently.

Taking
both of Obi-Wan’s hands, Qui-Gon nodded and held them tight as
Anakin took a deep breath and set the hypospray with sedatives to the
others neck.

A
small scream escaped Obi-Wan’s mouth the moment the injection was
set and he thrashed
for a few moments before suddenly going limp, Qui-Gon’s heart
jumping to his throat only to relax when he saw the slow and steady
rise and fall of the others chest. “Oh thank the Force.” He
wheezed out, gently tucking Obi-Wan in and reluctantly pulling his
hands away so the privacy screen
could be activated.

The
dark shimmering canopy enclosed the upper part of the bed, allowing
Qui-Gon to reach for one hand and hold onto it once more, more for
his own sake now than the sleeping Obi-Wan and when they left the
transport, Qui-Gon stuck by the hoverbed and let Anakin deal with the
captain, stroking the pale hand with his thumb slowly, being
careful of the bandages wrapped around the knuckles as Obi-Wan had
damaged his hands while coming up.

It
took a good chunk of time, the captain trying to cosy up to the two
Jedi in an attempt to… something, Qui-Gon had no idea. Maybe to see
if he could get a favor or two out of the Jedi or have them show up
at the captain’s table since having the mystic Jedi could be a boon
for some but clearly Anakin wasn’t responding as hoped.

Finally
they got their assigned cabin, quite large for one of them really and
Anakin sealed the door behind them and activated the ‘privacy’
sign.

Peace
and quiet as
Qui-Gon turned off the privacy screen.

Messing
with the controls of the hoverbed, Qui-Gon lowered the bed and
settled down on the couch, going back to holding the others hand
before he looked at the silently observing Anakin. “…I don’t
think he knows he died.” Qui-Gon addressed the elephant that had
been in the room ever since Obi-Wan came up of
his own grave.

Joining
Qui-Gon on the couch, the knight sighed deeply. “Yeah and I don’t
think we should try telling him right now considering how
overstimulated he already is,” Anakin murmured quietly before
rubbing his face. “This is a nightmare.” He
sulked to himself, rubbing his face before wincing and turning his
attention to the other Jedi quickly.

However
the white haired man was no longer looking at Anakin, instead he was
looking
back at Obi-Wan, giving
him his full attention while rubbing his hand gently.
“…Feels like a dream to me.” He whispered while leaning in,
pressing a soft kiss to the back of Obi-Wan’s hand.

Anakin
said nothing at
that,
only
observed with
a sad smile.

What happens next in Dearly Departed? Are Qui-Gon and Anakin able to help Obi-wan? Does Obi-wan even know that he was dead?

Posted on av swmoddy

Obi-Wan
needs constant contact with one of them.

Qui-Gon
doesn’t mind, holding Obi-Wan’s hand or crawling into bed with
him… Force he would have given anything to have it and now he has
but he worries about the pain Obi-Wan goes through.

The
healers, in session with the council, had theorized that Obi-Wan
return to the world of the living was making him overstimulated
because just as a newborn babe, everything was new
once more.

Obi-Wan
however was more developed than a baby and therefor felt everything
more keenly and that included the Force. Or so Anakin had told him,
Qui-Gon hadn’t been there for the session since Anakin had been the
one to contact and speak with the temple.

The
had also wired over more credits, to book them a new trip back on a
luxury cruise ship of all things but Obi-Wan needed the quiet and
isolation one of their cabins would provide and Qui-Gon was just…
grateful that the council considered that.

They
still had to silence the world around Obi-Wan when it was time to
leave, putting earplugs in his ears and keeping the sleeping mask on
him as Qui-Gon held onto the mans hand while shuffling along slowly
beside the hover bed to
the medical shuttle transport they were taking to the luxury liner.

It
was enough to keep him quiet as
Qui-Gon refused to let go of his hand as he settled down in his seat
in the medical transport.

Hopefully
with
enough
time Obi-Wan
would readjust
to the world because
it hurt like hell to see him like this, curled up in fetal position,
unable to even take a shower or brush his hair without flinching or
cowering.

“Well
be reaching the Arconia in a few minutes,” Anakin suddenly spoke,
drawing Qui-Gon’s attention to the sadly smiling knight with the
hypospray in one hand as the young man stood from his seat. “We’ll
want to set this before we reach it and have it in effect before we
go through the crowds.” Anakin sighed and moved to Obi-Wan’s
side, stroking the others face gently.

Taking
both of Obi-Wan’s hands, Qui-Gon nodded and held them tight as
Anakin took a deep breath and set the hypospray with sedatives to the
others neck.

A
small scream escaped Obi-Wan’s mouth the moment the injection was
set and he thrashed
for a few moments before suddenly going limp, Qui-Gon’s heart
jumping to his throat only to relax when he saw the slow and steady
rise and fall of the others chest. “Oh thank the Force.” He
wheezed out, gently tucking Obi-Wan in and reluctantly pulling his
hands away so the privacy screen
could be activated.

The
dark shimmering canopy enclosed the upper part of the bed, allowing
Qui-Gon to reach for one hand and hold onto it once more, more for
his own sake now than the sleeping Obi-Wan and when they left the
transport, Qui-Gon stuck by the hoverbed and let Anakin deal with the
captain, stroking the pale hand with his thumb slowly, being
careful of the bandages wrapped around the knuckles as Obi-Wan had
damaged his hands while coming up.

It
took a good chunk of time, the captain trying to cosy up to the two
Jedi in an attempt to… something, Qui-Gon had no idea. Maybe to see
if he could get a favor or two out of the Jedi or have them show up
at the captain’s table since having the mystic Jedi could be a boon
for some but clearly Anakin wasn’t responding as hoped.

Finally
they got their assigned cabin, quite large for one of them really and
Anakin sealed the door behind them and activated the ‘privacy’
sign.

Peace
and quiet as
Qui-Gon turned off the privacy screen.

Messing
with the controls of the hoverbed, Qui-Gon lowered the bed and
settled down on the couch, going back to holding the others hand
before he looked at the silently observing Anakin. “…I don’t
think he knows he died.” Qui-Gon addressed the elephant that had
been in the room ever since Obi-Wan came up of
his own grave.

Joining
Qui-Gon on the couch, the knight sighed deeply. “Yeah and I don’t
think we should try telling him right now considering how
overstimulated he already is,” Anakin murmured quietly before
rubbing his face. “This is a nightmare.” He
sulked to himself, rubbing his face before wincing and turning his
attention to the other Jedi quickly.

However
the white haired man was no longer looking at Anakin, instead he was
looking
back at Obi-Wan, giving
him his full attention while rubbing his hand gently.
“…Feels like a dream to me.” He whispered while leaning in,
pressing a soft kiss to the back of Obi-Wan’s hand.

Anakin
said nothing at
that,
only
observed with
a sad smile.

Listening Hozier’s «Work Song» reminded me of DearlyDeparted: When my time comes around / lay me gently in the cold, dark earth / no grave can hold my body down / I’ll crawl home to (him). [oh shit my qui-gon radar going off, gotta claw out my grave real quick]

Posted on av swmoddy

The
thing is… Qui-Gon had intended to come to this planet at some
point, mission or not, when Anakin could do without him, when the
blond was able to be stable without him.

Not
that Qui-Gon was seeking death but…

He
didn’t want to be laid to rest in the temple but where his heart
bonded was, even if Obi-Wan was somewhere lost in the dirt of the
planet.

His
spirit would not be held back from Obi-Wan once he was dead and he
would do anything to find the other once the mortal coil of his body
let him go.

Crawl
his way through the cold to find the other and reunite with him in
the Force.

Yet
now he’s on the same planet that claimed Obi-Wan four years ago,
sitting at the bedside of his beloved with the others hand in his,
Obi-Wan wearing a sleeping mask because his eyes can’t handle the
light.

His
poor Obi-Wan who had screamed as he was being cleaned, Obi-Wan who
shrunk from any touch that wasn’t his or Anakin, Obi-Wan who was
clearly over-stimulated and over-sensitive and… Force Qui-Gon
didn’t know what to do.

All
of the machines had to be removed from the room because the low hum
of them had Obi-Wan covering his ears, the light except for a soft
nightlight by the door was off because lights hurt Obi-Wan even with
the sleeping mask on.

The
window was completely sealed shut to lock out sounds and the drape
pulled and pinned to the window sill to avoid it letting in any light
from either the suns or random street signs and as far as Qui-Gon
knew, both rooms beside Obi-Wan’s were empty just in case.

Even
the bed
and the softest medical gown provided hurt him if
Obi-Wan’s pitiful whimpers were any indication!

Just
so over-stimulated that Qui-Gon was scared to speak for Obi-Wan to
cry out in pain.

And
yet when Obi-Wan let out a hitched breath of pain, Qui-Gon couldn’t
help it as he hushed the other gently and drew his overly long body
into the bed, relieved when the other didn’t recoil as he stroked
Obi-Wan’s hair and kept a hold of the others hand.

Carefully
he pressed it to his chest, right above his heart. “Obi-Wan, I’m
here.” He whispered.

()()()

He
hurts.

Oh
Force does he hurt, his entire body feels like it won’t actually
carry him if he tried to get up and light hurts and sound hurts and
smell
hurts.

The
smell of sterile medical environment hurts
and the bed hurts
and just…

He
is in hell,
this entire place could potentially be a dimensional hellscape.

If
it wasn’t for one thing.

One
thing that does not hurt at all.

The
only thing that does not hurt is Qui-Gon, his hand holding Obi-Wan to
provide a secure line to the world behind
the darkness the sleeping mask on his face.

And
Anakin but Anakin had to leave the room he was in and
can therefore
not help him.

Even
the soft cloth of his medical gown and the sleeping mask on his face
hurt.

But
light hurt more than the cloth on his face and Obi-Wan only clung to
Qui-Gon’s hand more, letting out a hitched breath when there was a
soft soothing ‘hush’, a
warm and familiar body laying down beside him
with
a gentle hand stroking through his hair, familiar fingers trying to
sooth Obi-Wan to sleep as the medics hadn’t dared to give Obi-Wan
any sedatives just yet, uncertain how he would react to it.

So
Obi-Wan clung to his heart bonded and tried to make sense of the
world even though it was all wrong.

But
he’s here, he’s… he’s back?

Back
from where?

And
why did he leave in the first place, he had no desire to leave
Qui-Gon after all.

Whimpering
he pressed his face into Qui-Gon’s chest as the other held his hand
to the Jedi master’s chest.

Under
Obi-Wan’s hand the thump of a heart could be felt.

Steady.

There
and real and not hurtful and Obi-Wan huffed out a breath into what he
knew must be beige, rough spun cloth made in the temple that somehow
didn’t hurt him.

He
focused on that feeling, on Qui-Gon’s smell and tried to hurt less.

He’d
like to hurt less.

Qui-Gon
made it hurt less.

Listening Hozier’s «Work Song» reminded me of DearlyDeparted: When my time comes around / lay me gently in the cold, dark earth / no grave can hold my body down / I’ll crawl home to (him). [oh shit my qui-gon radar going off, gotta claw out my grave real quick]

Posted on av swmoddy

The
thing is… Qui-Gon had intended to come to this planet at some
point, mission or not, when Anakin could do without him, when the
blond was able to be stable without him.

Not
that Qui-Gon was seeking death but…

He
didn’t want to be laid to rest in the temple but where his heart
bonded was, even if Obi-Wan was somewhere lost in the dirt of the
planet.

His
spirit would not be held back from Obi-Wan once he was dead and he
would do anything to find the other once the mortal coil of his body
let him go.

Crawl
his way through the cold to find the other and reunite with him in
the Force.

Yet
now he’s on the same planet that claimed Obi-Wan four years ago,
sitting at the bedside of his beloved with the others hand in his,
Obi-Wan wearing a sleeping mask because his eyes can’t handle the
light.

His
poor Obi-Wan who had screamed as he was being cleaned, Obi-Wan who
shrunk from any touch that wasn’t his or Anakin, Obi-Wan who was
clearly over-stimulated and over-sensitive and… Force Qui-Gon
didn’t know what to do.

All
of the machines had to be removed from the room because the low hum
of them had Obi-Wan covering his ears, the light except for a soft
nightlight by the door was off because lights hurt Obi-Wan even with
the sleeping mask on.

The
window was completely sealed shut to lock out sounds and the drape
pulled and pinned to the window sill to avoid it letting in any light
from either the suns or random street signs and as far as Qui-Gon
knew, both rooms beside Obi-Wan’s were empty just in case.

Even
the bed
and the softest medical gown provided hurt him if
Obi-Wan’s pitiful whimpers were any indication!

Just
so over-stimulated that Qui-Gon was scared to speak for Obi-Wan to
cry out in pain.

And
yet when Obi-Wan let out a hitched breath of pain, Qui-Gon couldn’t
help it as he hushed the other gently and drew his overly long body
into the bed, relieved when the other didn’t recoil as he stroked
Obi-Wan’s hair and kept a hold of the others hand.

Carefully
he pressed it to his chest, right above his heart. “Obi-Wan, I’m
here.” He whispered.

()()()

He
hurts.

Oh
Force does he hurt, his entire body feels like it won’t actually
carry him if he tried to get up and light hurts and sound hurts and
smell
hurts.

The
smell of sterile medical environment hurts
and the bed hurts
and just…

He
is in hell,
this entire place could potentially be a dimensional hellscape.

If
it wasn’t for one thing.

One
thing that does not hurt at all.

The
only thing that does not hurt is Qui-Gon, his hand holding Obi-Wan to
provide a secure line to the world behind
the darkness the sleeping mask on his face.

And
Anakin but Anakin had to leave the room he was in and
can therefore
not help him.

Even
the soft cloth of his medical gown and the sleeping mask on his face
hurt.

But
light hurt more than the cloth on his face and Obi-Wan only clung to
Qui-Gon’s hand more, letting out a hitched breath when there was a
soft soothing ‘hush’, a
warm and familiar body laying down beside him
with
a gentle hand stroking through his hair, familiar fingers trying to
sooth Obi-Wan to sleep as the medics hadn’t dared to give Obi-Wan
any sedatives just yet, uncertain how he would react to it.

So
Obi-Wan clung to his heart bonded and tried to make sense of the
world even though it was all wrong.

But
he’s here, he’s… he’s back?

Back
from where?

And
why did he leave in the first place, he had no desire to leave
Qui-Gon after all.

Whimpering
he pressed his face into Qui-Gon’s chest as the other held his hand
to the Jedi master’s chest.

Under
Obi-Wan’s hand the thump of a heart could be felt.

Steady.

There
and real and not hurtful and Obi-Wan huffed out a breath into what he
knew must be beige, rough spun cloth made in the temple that somehow
didn’t hurt him.

He
focused on that feeling, on Qui-Gon’s smell and tried to hurt less.

He’d
like to hurt less.

Qui-Gon
made it hurt less.

Dearly departed is so cool! I really loved what you did with Qui-Gon! Can we get more? Maybe some Obi-wan perspective?

Posted on av swmoddy

His
last memory is the avalanche.

The
rock and dirt coming towards him so fast it looks like a wave of
ocean as he uses the Force to shove the five year old rodian into
Quinlan’s arms to avoid a young life lost.

Those
are his last memories before darkness and pain and then nothing until
new darkness and strange air that smells of decay and a clay like
dirt smell.

For
a moment Obi-Wan has no idea what to make of anything, only that he
can feel Qui-Gon in the distance and that the air is choking him in the pitch darkness.

And
then he feels that he is in a box, there is a heavy layer over him
and panic sets in as he touches the wood above him with wide eyes in
the darkness.

The
panic consumes him as he desperately punches his way into the wet
dirt over him, his mind faintly recognizing that he had been buried
as he starts to desperately claw his way up, to try to get out, to
find air and light.

Pain
gets buried beneath the panic and the adrenaline releasing in his
system, automatically holding his breath as he has been trained to as
a Jedi when there is no air as he desperately claws through the heavy
ground, going up, up, up.

And
then he’s blinded, the light too
bright as he desperately tries to pull himself out, arms coming
around him to pull him up at the same time and he knows this smell,
this scent is familiar even as its mixed with that strange decay
smell and fresh air because this smell is Qui-Gon.

His
soap, his cologne and that natural smell of sapir tea that gets
trapped in the man’s tunic because it’s so fragrant.

“Qui.”
He whispers pitifully, as if Obi-Wan has been screaming for hours in
torture and his throat has become raw and maybe he’s swallowed
clay?

Maybe
that’s why?

The
avalanche came very quickly but… wait, Qui-Gon didn’t come on
this mission.

Still
blinded by the light, Obi-Wan pressed his face to the others chest,
whimpering faintly as he felt someone else drop down, their hands
pressing to Obi-Wan’s back.

Anakin.

That
Force presence is unmistakable but the size is…

Obi-Wan
doesn’t know what to make of it.

Something
is wrong with everything, with him, with Qui, with Anakin but he
can’t quite put his finger on it and instead sobs as the panic
remains but the adrenaline
leaves, pain and stiffness of joints lingering.

()()()

“We
need to get him to a medic center,” Anakin
murmured, his hands resting on Obi-Wan’s back as the dirty redhead,
who was suppose to be dead,
sobbed into Qui-Gon’s chest with a faint voice. Turning his eyes to
the other Jedi when Qui-Gon didn’t respond, Anakin felt his heart
break at the tears in the older man’s eyes and down his cheeks that
disappeared in the man’s beard. “Qui-Gon, we need to get him
medical help.” He said more insistently even as he knew how
traumatized and shocked Qui-Gon must be at that moment.

That
finally seemed to get the white haired Jedi to look up, lost and
quiet before he nodded. “…I don’t know if I can carry him
Anakin.” He got out.

Breathing
out, Anakin nodded. “I’ll carry him, you can hold onto a hand.”
He didn’t think it be good for either to lose full contact with
each other.

He
wasn’t sure what this… revival, would do to the old heart bond
the two had shared.

And
Force,
how were they suppose to explain that a dead Jedi suddenly came back
to life?

Obi-Wan
clearly had nothing to do with it, the man himself traumatized and
shocked from coming out of his own grave.

And
Qui-Gon?

Qui-Gon
looked lost and heartbroken as he held the sobbing man that Anakin
was slowly shifting around to try and lift bridal style as Qui-Gon
sought out the hand closest to him while pulling his cane off his
belt, his tears showing no signs of
stopping.

Qui-Gon
who had grieved himself white haired, Qui-Gon whose heart bond had
turned his Force sense, Qui-Gon who maybe had a shot at healing if
Obi-Wan could be tended to.

‘But
how traumatized is Obi-Wan?’ Anakin wondered as he slowly stood
with Obi-Wan crying out and hiding his face in Anakin’s chest now,
the light clearly bothering him.

In
this equation, Anakin forgot himself, his own trauma at his lineage
brothers death.

Anakin
whose heart was pounding in his chest from witnessing the redhead
bursting from the earth like some kind of terrifying sith undead
legend.

Compartmentalize
and deal with later.

That
was what Anakin did because he had two sobbing Jedi on his hands and
Jedi weren’t suppose to break so fully.

Deal
with it later.

Break
later.

Dearly departed is so cool! I really loved what you did with Qui-Gon! Can we get more? Maybe some Obi-wan perspective?

Posted on av swmoddy

His
last memory is the avalanche.

The
rock and dirt coming towards him so fast it looks like a wave of
ocean as he uses the Force to shove the five year old rodian into
Quinlan’s arms to avoid a young life lost.

Those
are his last memories before darkness and pain and then nothing until
new darkness and strange air that smells of decay and a clay like
dirt smell.

For
a moment Obi-Wan has no idea what to make of anything, only that he
can feel Qui-Gon in the distance and that the air is choking him in the pitch darkness.

And
then he feels that he is in a box, there is a heavy layer over him
and panic sets in as he touches the wood above him with wide eyes in
the darkness.

The
panic consumes him as he desperately punches his way into the wet
dirt over him, his mind faintly recognizing that he had been buried
as he starts to desperately claw his way up, to try to get out, to
find air and light.

Pain
gets buried beneath the panic and the adrenaline releasing in his
system, automatically holding his breath as he has been trained to as
a Jedi when there is no air as he desperately claws through the heavy
ground, going up, up, up.

And
then he’s blinded, the light too
bright as he desperately tries to pull himself out, arms coming
around him to pull him up at the same time and he knows this smell,
this scent is familiar even as its mixed with that strange decay
smell and fresh air because this smell is Qui-Gon.

His
soap, his cologne and that natural smell of sapir tea that gets
trapped in the man’s tunic because it’s so fragrant.

“Qui.”
He whispers pitifully, as if Obi-Wan has been screaming for hours in
torture and his throat has become raw and maybe he’s swallowed
clay?

Maybe
that’s why?

The
avalanche came very quickly but… wait, Qui-Gon didn’t come on
this mission.

Still
blinded by the light, Obi-Wan pressed his face to the others chest,
whimpering faintly as he felt someone else drop down, their hands
pressing to Obi-Wan’s back.

Anakin.

That
Force presence is unmistakable but the size is…

Obi-Wan
doesn’t know what to make of it.

Something
is wrong with everything, with him, with Qui, with Anakin but he
can’t quite put his finger on it and instead sobs as the panic
remains but the adrenaline
leaves, pain and stiffness of joints lingering.

()()()

“We
need to get him to a medic center,” Anakin
murmured, his hands resting on Obi-Wan’s back as the dirty redhead,
who was suppose to be dead,
sobbed into Qui-Gon’s chest with a faint voice. Turning his eyes to
the other Jedi when Qui-Gon didn’t respond, Anakin felt his heart
break at the tears in the older man’s eyes and down his cheeks that
disappeared in the man’s beard. “Qui-Gon, we need to get him
medical help.” He said more insistently even as he knew how
traumatized and shocked Qui-Gon must be at that moment.

That
finally seemed to get the white haired Jedi to look up, lost and
quiet before he nodded. “…I don’t know if I can carry him
Anakin.” He got out.

Breathing
out, Anakin nodded. “I’ll carry him, you can hold onto a hand.”
He didn’t think it be good for either to lose full contact with
each other.

He
wasn’t sure what this… revival, would do to the old heart bond
the two had shared.

And
Force,
how were they suppose to explain that a dead Jedi suddenly came back
to life?

Obi-Wan
clearly had nothing to do with it, the man himself traumatized and
shocked from coming out of his own grave.

And
Qui-Gon?

Qui-Gon
looked lost and heartbroken as he held the sobbing man that Anakin
was slowly shifting around to try and lift bridal style as Qui-Gon
sought out the hand closest to him while pulling his cane off his
belt, his tears showing no signs of
stopping.

Qui-Gon
who had grieved himself white haired, Qui-Gon whose heart bond had
turned his Force sense, Qui-Gon who maybe had a shot at healing if
Obi-Wan could be tended to.

‘But
how traumatized is Obi-Wan?’ Anakin wondered as he slowly stood
with Obi-Wan crying out and hiding his face in Anakin’s chest now,
the light clearly bothering him.

In
this equation, Anakin forgot himself, his own trauma at his lineage
brothers death.

Anakin
whose heart was pounding in his chest from witnessing the redhead
bursting from the earth like some kind of terrifying sith undead
legend.

Compartmentalize
and deal with later.

That
was what Anakin did because he had two sobbing Jedi on his hands and
Jedi weren’t suppose to break so fully.

Deal
with it later.

Break
later.

Obi-wan crawls out of his grave. Qui-Gon and Anakin are there to witness this. Bonus points for angst and hugs.

Posted on av swmoddy

Ambling
forward on his long legs, Qui-Gon frowned as the Force continued to
hurriedly prod him along the path, as
if he doesn’t have time to linger or let anyone catch up to him.

The
last four years had not been kind to the man who
had once breathed and lived the Living Force and the Moment as he so
often spoke about,
the decaying heart bond to his former, (no, never former, always
belong to Obi-Wan, dearest Obi-Wan), had twisted Qui-Gon Jinn’s
sense of the Force where he was now more prone to the Force
precognition and visions.

The
mind healers had worried about it for a while until Qui-Gon, to the
relief of those who knew him, adapted to it and showed that he as not
going to just lay over and let the visions consume him without
at least trying to handle them.

His
grief and
the stress
had taken the last of his youth too, his hair now a stark white along
with his beard and brows though he had finally started to laugh once
more to the relief of those who knew him.

A
cane always hung on his belt or was in use as now Qui-Gon’s knees
suffered more for his age and
height
regardless how long lived his people were.

But
grief had taken it’s due and that was clearly visible on the man.

Rushing
after the white haired Jedi, a freshly knighted blond followed with a
deep frown on his own
face.

Anakin
was a young knight, a knight of great renown but he was also a knight
who still followed his master.

Half
of it was by own desire and half of it was by a quiet request of the
council, who still feared that Qui-Gon would lay his life down in a
meaningless battle.

Especially
now.

Because
their mission had brought them to Tol-Ann and if the council could
send anyone
else they would have but Qui-Gon Jinn had been needed.

Because
this was the world and region Obi-Wan had died in.

Qui-Gon
knew that Anakin had carried a stone in his stomach since they were
given the news of their mission, knew that the young man must have
argued with the council behind closed doors but Qui-Gon’s delicate,
and sometimes not so delicate, skills at negotiation had been
required.

And
now they were suppose to leave but…

The
Force was dragging, yelping, whining in Qui-Gon’s ear and he would
listen even if visions and precognition was something that had become
his with Obi-Wan’s death.

‘And
Obi-Wan always handled them didn’t he?’ Qui-Gon questioned
himself as he walked the gravel path between the rows of graves, the
planet’s tradition of burying their people in wooden boxes and
leaving markers quite beautiful.

Some
of the markers were made of colored glass, some were stone, some had
memory moths trapped inside in sheer glass, some were filled with
light…

But
Qui-Gon’s sense of the Force was leading him down towards one
grave.

Black
stone, almost unmarked, sans a date that Qui-Gon’s eyes couldn’t
quite make out until he got closer.

But
also the bulging of the earth, as if something was pressing up.

His
heart was speeding up, he could hear Anakin call out behind him as
Qui-Gon used his longs legs and broke into a run just as a hand burst
through the dirt of
the grave, something flaring into the Force with life.

Even
before the copper color of the hair broke out through the surface
Qui-Gon knew
because the Force was blubbering in his ears as he dropped to his
damaged knees on the blue grass and helped the other out of the
grave, hands desperately digging around and then wrapping around the
others all too familiar body to pull.

It
had been four years, two months, three weeks, two days and fifteen
hours since Qui-Gon had last held his heart bonded.

And
as Anakin finally closed the distance to stare in disbelief, Qui-Gon
held his dirty, traumatized and shaking heart bonded as Obi-Wan
Kenobi once more drew oxygen into his lungs while spitting dirt out
of his mouth, his bleeding and earth covered hands fisting into
Qui-Gon’s beige tunic, covering the older Jedi in all the earth had
to offer.

And
if it meant never being clean again to have this than Qui-Gon was
more than happy to be covered in dirt as he desperately stroked
Obi-Wan’s hair and face, his ears numb for anything but Obi-Wan’s
hitched desperate breaths.

The
other smells of earth and decay, his clothes are falling part and
Qui-Gon can’t find it in him to care
as he buries his face in Obi-Wan’s hair and sobs as a confused,
broken but
oh so beloved and missed voice
whimpers at him. “Qui?”

Obi-wan crawls out of his grave. Qui-Gon and Anakin are there to witness this. Bonus points for angst and hugs.

Posted on av swmoddy

Ambling
forward on his long legs, Qui-Gon frowned as the Force continued to
hurriedly prod him along the path, as
if he doesn’t have time to linger or let anyone catch up to him.

The
last four years had not been kind to the man who
had once breathed and lived the Living Force and the Moment as he so
often spoke about,
the decaying heart bond to his former, (no, never former, always
belong to Obi-Wan, dearest Obi-Wan), had twisted Qui-Gon Jinn’s
sense of the Force where he was now more prone to the Force
precognition and visions.

The
mind healers had worried about it for a while until Qui-Gon, to the
relief of those who knew him, adapted to it and showed that he as not
going to just lay over and let the visions consume him without
at least trying to handle them.

His
grief and
the stress
had taken the last of his youth too, his hair now a stark white along
with his beard and brows though he had finally started to laugh once
more to the relief of those who knew him.

A
cane always hung on his belt or was in use as now Qui-Gon’s knees
suffered more for his age and
height
regardless how long lived his people were.

But
grief had taken it’s due and that was clearly visible on the man.

Rushing
after the white haired Jedi, a freshly knighted blond followed with a
deep frown on his own
face.

Anakin
was a young knight, a knight of great renown but he was also a knight
who still followed his master.

Half
of it was by own desire and half of it was by a quiet request of the
council, who still feared that Qui-Gon would lay his life down in a
meaningless battle.

Especially
now.

Because
their mission had brought them to Tol-Ann and if the council could
send anyone
else they would have but Qui-Gon Jinn had been needed.

Because
this was the world and region Obi-Wan had died in.

Qui-Gon
knew that Anakin had carried a stone in his stomach since they were
given the news of their mission, knew that the young man must have
argued with the council behind closed doors but Qui-Gon’s delicate,
and sometimes not so delicate, skills at negotiation had been
required.

And
now they were suppose to leave but…

The
Force was dragging, yelping, whining in Qui-Gon’s ear and he would
listen even if visions and precognition was something that had become
his with Obi-Wan’s death.

‘And
Obi-Wan always handled them didn’t he?’ Qui-Gon questioned
himself as he walked the gravel path between the rows of graves, the
planet’s tradition of burying their people in wooden boxes and
leaving markers quite beautiful.

Some
of the markers were made of colored glass, some were stone, some had
memory moths trapped inside in sheer glass, some were filled with
light…

But
Qui-Gon’s sense of the Force was leading him down towards one
grave.

Black
stone, almost unmarked, sans a date that Qui-Gon’s eyes couldn’t
quite make out until he got closer.

But
also the bulging of the earth, as if something was pressing up.

His
heart was speeding up, he could hear Anakin call out behind him as
Qui-Gon used his longs legs and broke into a run just as a hand burst
through the dirt of
the grave, something flaring into the Force with life.

Even
before the copper color of the hair broke out through the surface
Qui-Gon knew
because the Force was blubbering in his ears as he dropped to his
damaged knees on the blue grass and helped the other out of the
grave, hands desperately digging around and then wrapping around the
others all too familiar body to pull.

It
had been four years, two months, three weeks, two days and fifteen
hours since Qui-Gon had last held his heart bonded.

And
as Anakin finally closed the distance to stare in disbelief, Qui-Gon
held his dirty, traumatized and shaking heart bonded as Obi-Wan
Kenobi once more drew oxygen into his lungs while spitting dirt out
of his mouth, his bleeding and earth covered hands fisting into
Qui-Gon’s beige tunic, covering the older Jedi in all the earth had
to offer.

And
if it meant never being clean again to have this than Qui-Gon was
more than happy to be covered in dirt as he desperately stroked
Obi-Wan’s hair and face, his ears numb for anything but Obi-Wan’s
hitched desperate breaths.

The
other smells of earth and decay, his clothes are falling part and
Qui-Gon can’t find it in him to care
as he buries his face in Obi-Wan’s hair and sobs as a confused,
broken but
oh so beloved and missed voice
whimpers at him. “Qui?”