He was trapped, unable to move, feeling helpless, waiting for it to happen, for his Master (wait! He didn't have a Master!) to invade, hurt...
He shrieked, dragging himself out of the dream. The door slammed open and he scrambled to get away, pressed against the wall at the head of his bed, one arm raised to ward off the blow that was coming. He was so confused he wasn't even sure from whom he expected it.
"Obi-Wan?"
The voice was soft, deeper than any of his Master's voices, and vaguely familiar. Slowly, hesitantly, he lowered his arm, looking over it to stare at Qui-Gon. The Knight stood in the doorway, a solid figure in the half light from the stars. The Jedi had never stepped into the room once he'd said he wouldn't.
"Are you alright?"
He was trembling and couldn't stop, feeling cold. "J-just a n-nightmare," he stuttered. The panic faded slowly, but the trembling didn't.
"Would you like some hot Jala?"
Obi-Wan took a deep breath and was surprised to find himself nodding. "Yes, please." He got off the sleep couch and followed Qui-Gon into the kitchen, wondering why the Master hadn't asked about his dream.
With the first sip, warmth spread through him and the trembling stopped. He let out a sigh of relief.
"How long have you been having nightmares?" Qui-Gon asked gently as he sat down in the chair across from Obi-Wan, a mug held loosely in his hands.
Obi-Wan flinched, and then took a deep calming breath and let it out. "About two years," he said. "I think it was something Master Sorin did."
"Do you know what it was he did?"
Obi-Wan gripped his mug, staring into it. "Not exactly. He was... he would not let me see." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "There are places in my mind I can't go."
"Because of Sorin?"
Obi-Wan barely heard him. "Yes," he said numbly. "And Master Denk and Master Toman."
"The Healers could probably fix those," Qui-Gon said.
"Or make it worse."
"How could they make it worse?"
Obi-Wan shrugged, gripping his mug. "That's what they said." He fell silent. After a minute, he drank again. His hands trembled. "I want them to stop," he said suddenly, staring into the mug. "I just don't know how to make them."
"I might be able to help," Qui-Gon said softly. "But I can't without your permission."
Obi-Wan's shoulders hunched. "I know."
"You don't trust me."
"I don't dare!" It was a surprise, how intense it came out. He set the mug down on the table, afraid he'd drop it.
"I know," Qui-Gon said gently. "That was not meant to be an accusation. I'm sorry."
Obi-Wan looked at him for a long minute, startled, before he remembered to drop his eyes. Just when he thought the Jedi couldn't surprise him, he did. His thoughts spun through his mind, incoherent, too fast to see.
"How can I help you to trust me?"
"I don't know," he said softly. "I really don't know."
"Then we'll figure out what works as we go." The Knight sounded certain, unruffled.
"What if nothing works?"
"If I cannot help you, Obi-Wan, someone will be able to."
The frustration he felt at the Jedi Knight's words was a surprise. "I don't want to be passed around like a failure again," he said almost bitterly.
Qui-Gon shook his head. "It is not your failing," he said softly. "It would be mine."
The shock slowed his reactions. "How?"
"Because I could not help you. I would send someone here much more qualified than I."
Obi-Wan's thoughts spun even more, and he took a deep breath to try to calm himself. "Who?" he managed to gasp.
"I don't know. I haven't reached that point yet. It's possible I never will. You're not impossible, Obi-Wan. It just takes time."
"How long?"
"However long it takes."
He felt like he was on a tightrope with no net, but he couldn't seem to express it, so he sighed. "Can you give me a time frame?" he asked almost desperately.
Qui-Gon smiled into his mug. "No more than you can, Obi-Wan. It depends largely on you."
All the pressure crashed around his shoulders and he hunched them, one hand gripping the table. Qui-Gon's hand fell heavily on his shoulder, adding to the weight. "Why are you asking?"
He looked up and met the Jedi's concerned gaze. "I... I don't know."
"I know this is hard, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon leaned back, releasing Obi-Wan's shoulder. He looked as if he weren't sure what to say next.
Obi-Wan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, letting go of all the emotions clouding his mind. To his surprise, they vanished, leaving him clear-headed and at peace. It made him smile. "I think I'll be able to sleep now."
"Good night," Qui-Gon said with an answering smile. "See you in the morning."
The peace lasted all night and through the morning, Obi-Wan realized after lunch. That meant to some extent that he wasn't too nervous about the exercises facing him.
His peace fled with the first touch of Qui-Gon's mind. He struggled with the fear, feeling like he wanted to scream.
Qui-Gon withdrew. "Let it go," he said sternly. "Don't fight it."
"How many times?" He tried to keep the despair out of his voice.
"As often as it takes," Qui-Gon said, gentler this time. "Patience is going to be a necessity."
"Patience is always a necessity," Obi-Wan muttered.
Qui-Gon chuckled a little ruefully. "I know."
Obi-Wan nodded and took a deep breath, letting his fear out with the breath. He wondered at Qui-Gon's tone when he'd agreed with him about patience. With an impatient sigh, he concentrated again on releasing his fear. A while later, he tried again, his mind calm. This time it seemed to go better. By the time the sun was down, they had actually moved on to the second exercise.
"Very good," Qui-Gon said. "How do you feel about it?"
Obi-Wan rolled his shoulders back and was gratified to hear his neck crack. "Oh," he said in some surprise and relief. "Better, actually."
There was no fear. Granted, he'd had to stop many times through the afternoon, just to let it go, but Qui-Gon had been patient with him.
"That's good to hear. And if you're feeling like I am, you'll sleep like the dead tonight."
"Mm," was all he could say, and he got to his feet. Hopefully, there would be no nightmares. He was absolutely exhausted.
That wasn't a shield, he discovered the next few days. The more he worked with his teacher, the worse it seemed the nightmares got.
"I have asked for more aid," Qui-Gon said quietly one morning at breakfast. Obi-Wan froze, his fork half-way to his mouth. "On the condition that you agree to it."
That unfroze his arm, and he dropped the fork back to his plate. "Who and what for?"
"My guess is that I am the cause of your nightmares. I had hoped that perhaps Yoda would be an innocuous enough presence to help you with them."
"He will not be replacing you?" It came out before he'd had a chance to even think. He had to lose this habit of talking before he thought. There was no guarantee that this situation wouldn't deteriorate like the last ones had, even if Qui-Gon had not yet tried to invade his mind.
"No. He will only be a supplement to your... recovery." Qui-Gon smiled. "I do not give up that easy."
More confused than ever, Obi-Wan nodded and went back to his meal. His thoughts spun. Why had he asked if Qui-Gon would be replaced? To some extent it was because he had really felt like a failure being passed around. That wasn't all, though. He didn't know if it was due to Qui-Gon's calm, or his so-far-proven sincerity about wanting to help.
But he was making progress, if only by inches. Now that his knee had recovered, the lightsaber lessons were speeding by as fast as he could learn what Qui-Gon taught him. It was like he'd been given access to a whole river after being rationed a cup of water a day, and he drank until he was full.
Full. He felt full, content, feelings he'd had as an initiate in the Temple, before Master Sorin had apprenticed him. He'd nearly forgotten them, they'd been missing for so long. There were still bad parts, bad days, of course, but even those were getting better.
It wasn't much of a decision, really. Before he went to bed he told Qui-Gon that having Yoda come would be fine with him. Exhausted, both mentally and physically, he fell into bed and slept.
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