"Holding On" part 1


WIP Story

Title: Holding On
By: Eryce
Category: Angst, Dark short story
Rating: PG 13
Archive: Jedi Apprentice, Early Years, OKEB, Wolfie's Den, others please ask
Spoilers: JA
Disclaimer: George Lucas owns all Star Wars characters. The rest belong to me. Not getting paid for this either so I guess I'll borrow them and return them relatively intact.
Feedback: Please don't hold back:)
Time Frame: 11 years before TMP. Obi-Wan is 14
Summary : Finding the strength to hold on.
******

8 hours Left: Medical Bays Are the Same
---------------------------------------------------------


It was generally known that every medical bay in the known universe looked, smelled and sounded the same. The same stark sterile white washed walls, the same odor of drugs, the same cadence of beeps coming from machines. Healers talked in hush tones among the ill, the injured, the dying. Anxious mothers, fathers, siblings, friends looking lost in the hallways, waiting for news of their loved ones. Tears of grief, smiles of relief. The blood, the IV lines. It was the same everywhere. Nothing changes. Not in the medical bay.

This medical bay in the Jedi Temple was no different.

***


“Qui-Gon.”

“An-Paj.” A tired nod, acknowledging the Healer’s presence.

“You look tired, Qui-Gon.” Gentle admonishment. “You should get some rest.”

“Just tell me, An-Paj.” The Master looked up at the Healer for a moment, then returned his gaze to the prone unresponsive figure on the bed. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Sky blue eyes closed in sudden grief. Silence ensued, broken only by mechanical beeps.

“How bad?”

“Qui-Gon..”

“Just tell me!” A desperate shout. A clenched fist against the white sheets. A calming breath. “Please… I need to know.” A whisper this time. Softer, but the agony did not lessen. The healer sigh and a comforting hand was placed on the Master’s shoulder.

“Whomever that did this choose the correct poison. By the time they were rescued out of the pool, it has already seeped into the bloodstream. Luckily, we managed to counter some of the effects with some other drugs but they’re no help to the damage to the lungs. The antidote has been found and we have the chemical compounds to make the crystals needed. But it’ll take time.”

“How long?”

“Eight hours.”

“Eight hours????”

“It’s an extremely delicate process. The crystals need to be grown properly or it simply won’t work.”

Beep. Beep. Both adults in the small room watched as the respirator whooshed, forcing much needed oxygen into the boy’s lungs.

“There’s something you’re hiding. Tell me.” A command in a voice that shook slightly.

“Qui-Gon, they’re both stable but even now, their lungs are failing. It’s won’t be long before they start to deteriorate fast. I’m… I’m not sure if they’re going to last eight hours.”

Beep. Beep. Beep. Every beep was a heartbeat. A comforting sound.

One of the Master’s hand engulfed the boy’s hand into the Master’s larger one as the other gently soothed the auburn hair. Held the cold, limp hand against his cheek as a single tear trickled down.

“ He’ll make it. He has to. He knows I can’t lose him. He has to make it.”

Yet another tear. And another. All from a pair of pain filled eyes.

“I need him to make it.”


7 Hours Left : The In Between Place
------------------------------------------------------


According to the legends of the old, there existed a realm that is in between life and death. The old ones simply called it ‘S’hgka’, The In Between Place. The souls that wandered there were living in the sense that they still breathed but nothing more. It was a gray place, offering neither the light of life nor the oblivion of death. It was now where a young boy and his best friend could be found.

***


When he awoken, he was sitting on a rock. An island in a deep sea of swirling gray mist. Where? What? How? A million questions with no answers in sight. The last thing he remembered was swimming in the pool with Bant. Bant. Where was Bant?

/Bant?/

/Obi?/

The mist parted like a curtain, enough for him to catch a glimpse of a slight figure on yet another rock, then drawing back to obscure his view again. Too far to touch, yet near enough to talk without shouting.

/I saw you./

/Yes. So did I./

/Where are we?/

One of the many unanswered questions plaguing his mind. Gray tendrils swirled around him, caressing his face. Tried reaching for the Force. Failed. The presence of the Force was there but maddeningly out of reach. He should be frightened. Scared of the uncertainty that loomed large around him. Fearful of the unknown. There were no other living presence that he can detect. No one to provide any answers. No Qui-Gon. That fact alone should have shaken him to the core. Indeed, there was this one moment when he felt a spike of fear. But oddly….as soon as the fear began to tighten its hold on him, the mist wrapped its grayness around him, soothing his mind. His fear instantly forgotten. So soothing. So calm.. almost beckoning…. *FOCUS* With an effort, he pulled his mind back, forcing himself to think. *THINK OBI-WAN* Find a way to get out. Go home.

/Bant?/

/Hmmm?/

She sounded so far away….

/BANT!/

/Obi?/

A little stronger this time. Good. Focus. Just get her to focus.

/Bant, what did you last remember?/

/Umm. We were swimming in the pool and then, can’t breathe. That’s all I remember./

/Yes. The same here./

Pause.

/Where are we, Obi?/

Good question.

/I don’t know./ Forced cheeriness. / At least we’re together./

/Yes./

It wasn’t much. But being together was a comfort.

Cold comfort indeed.


6 Hours Left : The Confessions of a Jedi Master
------------------------------------------------------------------


Blood.

Its very simplicity is misleading. Its importance cannot be denied. It has started wars, caused death and given life. It flows through our veins, a stark reminder about the fragility of our existence.

The color of our hair, the hue of our eyes, our parentage, all catalogued in an orderly manner in the DNA that makes up who we all are.

Your blood flows in my veins. And thus, I love you. I have to love you.

It binds families together, children inheriting bits and pieces of themselves from parents. Many have died avenging the family blood, many gave their lives for its honor. Blood relations are family, so they say. We must protect our own. Love our own.

And yet for some, when it comes to being family, blood matters not.

*****


Qui-Gon POV
------------------


They call me the renegade. The one who follows his own path. True enough. I’ ve never been one to follow the rules, rigidity was never my style. It matters not. I answer only to the will of the Force, not to those who think they know all, see all. It has not been easy, taking this life as a maverick. Especially for my Padawans. Many do not agree with my decisions. Many ridicule and talk. If nothing else, it has taught my apprentices control and patience. Me, I can only let the results show for themselves.

My Padawans. S’ya, my first Padawan was a joy to teach. Brilliant and loving, she was almost the perfect student and with her, I found my niche as a teacher, a nurturer, a parent and a friend. The day she was knighted was a mixture of emotions for me. Pride warred with a certain sadness. I was so proud that I had a hand in this, this molding of a young mind into this great Knight and sad to know that she would no longer be big part of my life. I experienced what every parent goes through when their children comes of age and learnt to let go. She had her own wings now, and I had to let her go so that she could soar. And soar she did.

And then came Xanatos. I don’t like to think back to that dark depressing period in my life. I don’t know if anyone knows how his betrayal wounded me. I loved that boy, I came to think of him as my son, my friend. One that I would entrust my life to safeguard but instead turned around to stab me in the back. I think what made it all worse was I never saw it coming. My pride prevented me from seeing all that I should. I have failed. I failed as a Master, losing my apprentice to the Dark. I struggled with guilt, wondering if there was anything I could have done to prevent this? Did I indulge him too much? Give him enough guidance? But in the end, I knew that the choice was in his hands, not mine. And then I got angry. How could he betray me like that? I loved him, dammit! I gave him so much of myself, as I did S’ya, and this was what I received in return? There would never be another Padawan, I swore. The council disagreed of course, but I was beyond caring. Nothing was worth the pain I had just went through.

I must confess I wallowed in misery after that. I avoided my friends, the temple and went about my own way. Completing mission after mission in order to forget. All the doors to my heart were locked and the key thrown away, not allowing anyone to get close and pushing away those who tried. My Master insisted I visited the temple every year to choose a Padawan and would not take no as an answer. It was easier to just oblige than to argue but every year, I went away without choosing anyone. How could I? I had nothing left to give, only an empty hollow place where my heart used to be. I could have happily gone on with life like this but the Force and a certain green troll had other plans. That was when Obi-Wan came into my life. I fought hard and long against the obvious, make no mistake about that. I fought but every barrier I threw up was battered down. Tenacious little blue eyed imp he was, my Padawan. He impressed me with every action, every decision he made but still I fought. I could only see his anger, his impatience, and was blind to his goodness, his compassion. I hurt him over and over again with my decision but still he hung on, never giving up until that faithful day in Bandomeer.

Even after my acceptance, the road wasn’t an easy one. We were both haunted by our own personal demons. He was worming his way into my heart way too fast for my liking. I was still afraid to let him come too close. And he had to deal with his insecurities, in which I have contributed much to. We treaded around each other wearily, both waiting for the axe to fall. He was afraid I would change my mind and I was afraid of trusting again. The shields we erected to protect our fragile hearts prevented the bond from deepening. And then Melida/Daan happened. My fears finally came true. It was like Xanatos all over again. Even after I brought him back and forgave him, there was still this wall between us. Even after the turbo lift incident and I realized how much this young boy meant to me, I could not bring myself to take him back as my apprentice. Not even after he defied the council to follow me to Telos. Again, it took his life to convince me. When I held him in my arms, with his blood everywhere, I came to my senses. And when his heart stopped beating, mine skidded to a halt. The hours I waited outside the infirmary were the longest of my life. When the Healer told me he was going to survive, I felt like I’d been reborn. Being his Master means everything to me now. What was a colorless world I inhibited became filled with the kaleidoscope of love. Everything was a miracle now, every sight and sound something to behold. Everyday I find something new to show him, to teach him and he teaches me how to trust and love again. The need to protect him is so fierce within me, it scares me sometimes. I’ve never been a father but I knew then the emotions. He may not be my own but we are bonded beyond blood. He is family.

It has been a hard life. One without reward, without remorse, without regret. Yet, I am content. He is a gift to me, reminding me why I do what I do. Sometimes I wonder if he knows how much he has come to mean to me? How he rescued this old bitter man from a life of cold nothingness? How he healed my broken heart and became my salvation? Have I ever told him how his warm smile lights up my day? How much I care? How proud I am of him? I think he does. Somewhere inside, he knows. He has to know.

Obi-Wan. You’ve been unconscious for two hours now. The Healers say you may never wake up from your slumber or you may die before the next sunrise. I cannot accept that. Can you hear me as you sleep? Can you hear me talking to you? Can you feel me hold your hand? You have to hang on and come back to me. There are so many things I still want to show you, teach you. I want to see you grow up and become a Knight. For you to take on your own Padawan and experience the joy I have found with you. Please, Padawan, I cannot go on without you anymore.

Please stay, Obi-Wan. I know it must be hard but do it for this old man who loves you more than life itself. Please. Just stay so that I can tell you I love you. Stay.


5 Hours Left : So Easy to Forget
---------------------------------------------


S’hgka. A place to be when one exists in the limbo between life and death. It is neither light nor dark, simply a gray, lonely place. There is an illusion of peace, of warmth, of safety. Many who slipped beyond the fine line of consciousness come here. The strong willed sometimes manage to escape this desolate place, waking up from deep sleep back into the living world. Others leave only by dying. But some.. some are trapped here, endlessly drifting in the void. You see, the S’hgka makes you forget. Memories evaporate like water under the Tatooine sun, the very memories that would help one claw their way back to life. The longer you are here, the more you forget. It takes away all that you are, leaving one feeling nothing, knowing less. Your will. Your identity. Everything will be taken away until one succumbs.

And on the other side, where the living tread, there will be another who will never awaken from their eternal slumber. Another whose body still lives… but without a soul.

**************


Peace. Obi-Wan felt only peace. He felt like he was wrapped up in his favorite blanket, warm and safe. All he wanted to do was to curl up and sleep, to let himself drift away. It was getting harder and harder to remember anything, only that resisting took too much energy. And the mist was so inviting………

Qui-Gon.

The name came unbidden into his mind. Qui-Gon. Who..? Who was this Qui-Gon? The name was tantalizingly familiar but try as he did, he couldn’t place it. He knew that name. But who….? Something else came to him. A voice. A much beloved voice.

* I would be honored to accept you as my Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi.*

/Qui-Gon is my Master./

Yes. Remember Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan clung to the images of the kindly care-worn face, that familiar smile, those loving midnight eyes, even as they began to disintegrate in his mind, blown away like ashes in the wind. It was a struggle to even think, so much easier to give in to the pull of sleep.

[Rest. Let go and rest.]

/Yes. Resting for a moment wouldn’t hurt, would it? Just a second. Just to rest my eyes. Just to rest…../

Qui-Gon.

/Who was he again? I need to remember… must not forget../

[Sleep]

/ Must not… but tired. So tired…./

[Sleep]

/Can’t for-/

[Sleep]

Yes.

4 Hours Left : The Best Friend
------------------------------------------


Some things, once broken, can never be put back together again. There are just no second chances. Sometimes, just by reading the signs, the future is made known to us. But knowledge does not always mean action. The difference in one’s life often depends on the use of this knowledge. The foolish will regard all as hopelessness and give up, moaning about the loss. The wise knows that the future is always in motion and try to take back what is rightfully theirs even when failure is inevitable.

Which one are you?

****
They’ve been drifting apart.

Oh, it wasn’t something they noticed at first. He was always away and she was busy with her training back at the temple. He was back in Coruscant only four times in the past 2 years and each time, staying for not more than a month. Each time changed a little, both physically and mentally. How could he not? He has seen much in his travels, the tenacity of a civilization, the brutality of war and the darkness of the human soul. A little taller perhaps, a little more mature. When once they shared almost every thought and opinion, his views have been reshaped by experience. It was hard to keep track of those changes, so very hard to adapt, so much so that he appeared a stranger to her every time he returned. What made things worst was that she had changed too. She was growing and he wasn’t around. She found herself floundering around him, searching for topics to fill up the awkward gaps in conversations that cropped up more frequently each time. When they finally regain some ground and the relationship started becoming more comfortable again, it was time for him to leave. The time between letters grew longer and the letters themselves grew shorter. And she got used to not having him around.

Oh, they both saw what was happening. They both saw and knew but neither acknowledged it. Denial was easier to deal with. To step up and say that something was wrong would have hurt and neither one wanted to deal with pain when there were so many other constant upheavals in their lives. Better to continue believing in an illusion than to have none at all, easier to pretend that all was well than to admit that the friendship might not survive time and space. They’d been each other’s anchor for so long that the thought of being set adrift was far more frightening than facing the truth.

And so the distance grew.

It might have gone on for far longer if not for Obi-Wan’s familiarity with death. He had been on this planet for peace negotiations when he almost drowned. It wasn’t the first time he faced death but hit both of them to the core. It was close, very close. They almost couldn’t get him to start breathing again. That brush of death was the nudge they both needed in the right direction. He realized he couldn’t go on knowing that he might lose his best friend while the depth of fear she felt when she heard the news would stay with her forever. It was true what they say. You don’t know what you might until it is almost taken away.

When he finally returned to Coruscant, Bant met him at the landing pad, running into his embrace not caring who was watching. His steady heartbeat convinced her that he was very much alive. His strong arms around her reminded her what she had almost lost. Her best friend. Her rock. The other part of her soul.

They’d been inseparable since, talking, laughing, crying, using the memories they shared to rediscover each other. Remembering the old and accepting the new. He had changed but inside, he was still the same Obi-Wan Kenobi who shared almost twelve years of her life, through the tears and laughter. And she was the same Bant, the same best friend who was one of the few people he trusted with his very soul. Talking and sharing their fears solved a great many things. They’d been together for so long until Qui-Gon came into his life and suddenly, his whole world revolved around his Master. She had been so happy for him but the tiny seed of uncertainty, of her place and importance in his life, was sown. And like a weed, it grew watered by the gulf between them. She had her own Master now, Master Mace Windu and it made her understand the bond between Master and Padawan, enough to know her fears were foolish and unfounded. And now, their own bond of friendship was stronger than ever.

****


The day was like any other. Laughing and giggling hysterically over a practical joke Obi-Wan just played on his Master, they went to the pool for their evening swim. He was gesturing wildly, trying to explain *exactly* how his Master reacted when he tasted the *extra* seasoning ingredients, namely salt, that Obi-Wan thoughtfully put in his tea. Looking at him this way, all impish mischievousness in those wide blue eyes, she realized with a pang how much she missed his sense of humor. He could always make her laugh. By Gods, she missed him so very much. How could she not? She loved him like only a best friend could, even when he tried using those big blue eyes of his to charm his way around her defenses.

“Bant?” Uh-oh. He had *that* look on him again.

“Hmmm?” She backed away, giggling. “Don’t try anything, Obi!”

“Try what?” All sweet now but that only convinced Bant that he was up to something.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Wide eyes protesting his innocence. She backed up even more, laughing openly now, unaware that she was at the edge of the pool. “You mean… try… THIS?” With that, he pushed her into the pool with a very big splash.

Their swim quickly degenerated into a water fight as the sounds of laughter filled the air. They were the first in the pool even though there were others milling around, getting ready to get into the water. After she dunked him for the third time in a row, he surrendered.

“I give up!” He said smiling widely, panting hard. “Besides, the others are coming into the water now. Better behave ourselves!”

“I win again!” Bant replied in a sing-song voice, grinning.

“No fair. You always win.” He grumbled gamely, wiping water off his face. “You have an unfair advantage!”

“You’re just jealous ‘cause you can’t beat me!” Bant replied. “I am the b-“

She stopped as pain exploded in her chest. Suddenly, it became hard to breathe, every single gasp a struggle to get air into her lungs, trying to stay afloat. She could see Obi-Wan clutching his chest, his body spasming, then stilling as his pain-filled eyes fluttered close as he sank into the water. She started to croak his name but then, her own strength faded. She could hear cries of alarm as the pain faded away and the world went dark.

****


/Obi?/

No answer. Obi-Wan was losing the fight, Bant could feel it. She could feel his will ebbing dangerously as his mind began to drift further and further away. And she was in a no better position… the memories were hazy now, and the voices that called her were so inviting…

[Sleep]

She could feel herself floating now. She knew she was succumbing but there was nothing she could do about it. It was too damn hard to fight……

[Sleep]

/Goodbye, Obi!/ She whispered weakly, even as her memories of the boy began to fade, as *she* herself was fading. / I love you!/

/Bant?/

A reply came. But it was too late.


TBC


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