Chapter Text
“ Hello, Obi-Wan…”
“Qui-Gon! It’s good to hear from you, it’s been so long. How are you?”
“I— I’m sorry, I need to ask you something.”
“Yes, what is? Are you alright? You sound unwell.”
“The… the money has run out.”
“What?”
“Obi-Wan, I’m completely broke. I need…”
Obi-Wan draws himself out of the memory as he pulls up to the address he’d been given, parking on the street in front of the unfamiliar house. He sighs as he turns the car off, climbing out and walking up the cracked path towards the house. He goes up to the front door and rings the doorbell, waiting in the warm spring air with light jitters. He hears a commotion inside, and then the door is opened by an older man with a bent back and a lopsided-- probably due to a past stroke-- kind-looking face.
“Hello,” Obi-Wan says with a smile. “I’m here to pick up Anakin.”
“Ah,” the man nods. “You must be the brother. Well, come on in, I’ll go let the boys know you’re here.” He waves Obi-Wan in with a smile. Obi-Wan follows him in, feeling many pairs of eyes peering at him from around corners. “Here, you can wait in the kitchen.”
The man points Obi-Wan to the kitchen and limps off in the other direction down the hall, and Obi-Wan goes in only to stop in his tracks when he spots the man leaning against the kitchen counter with a mug in his hand and a matching surprised expression on his face.
“Cody,” Obi-Wan blinks, a smile forming on his face. Cody lowers his mug.
“Uh, hey Obi-Wan,” he says, “I don’t know how to ask this without sounding rude, but, what are you doing in my house?”
“Oh,” Obi-Wan laughs. “I’m here to pick up my little brother, Anakin. He was visiting his new school friend here, I believe.”
“Ah,” Cody nods. “That would be Rex, my little brother. Small world, huh?”
“Yes,” Obi-Wan smiles, brushing back a stray strand of hair. Cody clears his throat and looks around, and Obi-Wan internally droops a little, hoping he hasn’t made the man uncomfortable by suddenly, randomly appearing in his home.
“So, uh,” Cody starts, “how are those tiles working out for you?”
“Very well, thank you,” Obi-Wan says, unable to help finding his awkwardness a little endearing. He shuffles a little in place. “Erm, I was wondering if, were you serious about that drink? Because I would quite like to enjoy your company again.”
Cody’s eyes widen fractionally, and he nods again. “Yeah, sure. I’d like that too.”
“Splendid,” Obi-Wan says just as two young teens come bursting into the kitchen from the doorway on Cody’s end, talking and laughing. The taller of the two comes right up to Obi-Wan, grinning deviously, and punches him on the shoulder.
“Hey Obi- Dork ,” the fourteen year old laughs, and Obi-Wan rubs his shoulder and sighs.
“Good to see you too, Anakin.”
Anakin looks back at his friend, still grinning widely. “Rex, this is my brother Obi-Wan! Obi-Wan, this is my best friend Rex!”
The other kid that had come in, Rex, waves casually at him, and Obi-Wan returns it. “Good to meet you, Rex,” he says. The family resemblance between Rex and Cody is strong-- he looks like someone made a photocopy of Cody and then made his hair blonde instead of black. He looks back at Anakin. “Well, come along, Anakin, let’s get going.”
“Aw,” Anakin whines down at him (it’s absolutely not fair that the kid is already taller than him). “Can’t we stay a little longer?”
“No,” Obi-Wan says. “Not unless you want to get yourself home. I have to get back and make dinner.”
“Fine,” Anakin groans, drawing the word out dramatically. “See ya at school, Rex.” He waves goodbye to his friend, and Rex waves back.
“Good to see you again, Obi-Wan,” Cody says, and Obi-Wan casts him a quick smile.
“Yes, a pleasant surprise indeed,” he says. “Goodbye, now.”
“Bye everyone!” Anakin calls as they leave the house.
They get into the car and Obi-Wan checks his mirrors before starting up the car and pulling away from the curb. As soon as the house is out of sight, the energy leaches from Anakin, and he slouches back against the passenger seat.
“Can I have dinner at your place?” He asks, looking down and fiddling with his prosthetic, and Obi-Wan glances over at him when they get to a stop sign.
“Of course,” he says, “you’re welcome any time. Is Qui-Gon alright with you being out later than expected?”
Anakin leans his elbow on the door and rests cheek on his palm. “Qui-Gon won’t mind,” he says in a dejected way that has Obi-Wan’s face pinching with concern. But Anakin doesn’t respond well to prying, so he doesn’t ask any more questions, just drives the kid back to his own house instead of dropping him off at Qui-Gon’s.
Once inside, Anakin kicks his shoes off, leaving them where they fell instead of putting them away on the shoe rack, and dumps his windbreaker on the bench instead of hanging it up. Obi-Wan sighs, but doesn’t bother pestering him about it— this house could do with a splash of chaos or two.
“Alright,” Anakin’s face splits in a devilish smile. “Where’s my nephew?” he makes evil little grabby hands, and Obi-Wan chuckles.
“Probably up in his room,” he says, hanging up his coat. “Please don’t pester him past his limits.”
Anakin makes a pshh noise. “Duh,” he says, and dashes up the stairs. Satine is probably up in her office, he swears that woman never stops working. Obi-Wan goes straight into the kitchen and washes his hands before putting on his favourite apron and grabbing his Golden Girls cookbook from the row of cookbooks.
It’s not until he’s halfway through peeling the potatoes that he hears faint laughter getting louder, and stomping down the stairs. A few moments later Anakin appears, racing around the corner with Korkie on his back. For a second Obi-Wan’s heartrate spikes in alarm, but then he sees that Korkie is giggling and shrieking excitedly, clinging tight as Anakin spins around in circles. Obi-Wan breathes a sigh of relief and goes back to the potatoes. The two kids run and slide around to the living room on the other side of the wall, out of sight but hardly out of earshot, and then wheel back around into the kitchen.
Anakin slides to a stop by the table, panting. “Hey Obi-Wan,” he grins, “watcha making?”
Obi-Wan looks up from where he’s struggling with the potato peeler. “Swedish meatballs, mashed potatoes, and steamed veggies,” he says, and Anakin whistles.
“F— heck yeah,” he says, and Obi-Wan huffs a laugh at the catch.
“Can we watch?” Korkie asks, his chin propped on Anakin’s shoulder, and Obi-Wan nods.
“Yes, of course,” he says. Anakin puts Korkie down, and the child climbs up one of the chairs at the kitchen table, sitting and watching Obi-Wan peel potatoes intently. Anakin sits next to him and watches with matching intensity.
Obi-Wan drops the potato he’s working on in the sink for what feels like the tenth time. “ Jesus ,” he grumbles to himself, picking the potato back up.
“Are you okay, daddy?” Korkie asks, and Obi-Wan sighs.
“Just tired, dear.” He gives a weary smile.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon may have told you about me.”
“Uh… no. I don’t know you.”
“Oh. I see.”
Partway through making the sauce, Korkie seems to have had enough of people time and leaves to go back up to his room, leaving Anakin and Obi-Wan alone in the kitchen. Anakin whistles and looks at something on his phone while Obi-Wan whisks away at the stove.
“So, how is everything going at school?” Obi-Wan asks, and Anakin grunts. “Classes going well?” Anakin grunts again. “So you made a new friend-- that’s pretty nice.”
Anakin looks up over at him. “Do you have a point?” He asks, not entirely frustratedly, and Obi-Wan pauses, mouth pinching in thought.
“You seem down, lately,” He eventually says, glancing back over at Anakin over his shoulder. Anakin is looking down at the table. “Is there something bothering you?”
Anakin doesn’t say anything for a minute.
“I dunno,” the teen shrugs. “I guess… me and Qui-Gon have been clashing a lot lately.”
“Over what?”
“I dunno,” Anakin repeats. “Kind of everything. But also, like, nothing? It’s-- I dunno.”
“Hm,” Obi-Wan hums. “I understand the feeling.”
“Whad’ya mean?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”
“Ugh,” Anakin groans, “Anyways, I don’t really wanna talk about it.”
Obi-Wan nods. “That’s fair,” he says. “Dinner is almost ready, anyhow. Will you please set the table?”
“ Ugh ,” Anakin groans again, far more dramatically, and flops out of his seat. “ Fine .”
He sets out the placemats and cutlery while Obi-Wan finishes up the mashed potatoes. Before he plates everything, he puts everything on simmer and goes upstairs. He goes into Korkie’s room to tell him dinner is ready, and the kid immediately drops his toy and takes off running. He goes up another floor, and knocks on the door to Satine’s office.
“Yes?” He hears her call from inside, and he opens the door to see his wife working away at her desk, looking between several piles of papers and documents and typing something on her computer.
“Dinner is ready,” He says, and Satine’s eyes remained glued to her work.
“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” she says absently, and Obi-Wan crosses his arms, leaning against the doorframe.
“Why don’t you come down now?” He asks, and Satine huffs like he just asked a ridiculous question.
“I’m busy, Obi,” She finally looks up and gestures to the files stacked on her desk. “I have a lot of work to do.”
“It’s a sunday,” Obi-Wan says. “Can’t you take off one day a week?”
“Not this week,” Satine taps a document with a finely manicured nail. “We’re in the middle of a huge case, everyone is putting in overtime for this. I barely even have time to have this conversation.”
Obi-Wan sighs. “Alright,” he relents as she starts typing again, and her work phone starts ringing. “Would you like me to bring up a plate for you?”
Satine nods yes and mouths thank you as she answers the call, and Obi-Wan softly closes the door on his way out.
Downstairs, Anakin and Korkie are both waiting eagerly in their seats at the table, and they watch intently as Obi-Wan dishes out the food. “You two can start eating,” he says, picking up a third plate. “Satine is going to take dinner up in her office.”
“Okey,” Korkie says, mouth already full of mashed potato, and Anakin shrugs, looking far from disappointed. He loads the plate up and also pours out a glass of wine-- dealing with the people she works with, he’s sure she’ll be glad for it-- and brings the dishes upstairs while the kids eat.
He knocks softly on the door, conscious of the fact that she’s probably still on the phone, and pushes the door open, creeping inside. Sure enough, Satine is still on the phone, leaning a tired elbow on her desk, a pinched look on her face. Obi-Wan walks over and gently sets the plate and the glass down with a smile, and Satine points to the phone and rolls her eyes, sticking her tongue out. Obi-Wan gives a laugh that’s all air in response, and Satine picks up the wine glass with a grateful nod.
“Yes, of course,” she says to the person on the line, and Obi-Wan starts to back away to leave her to her work. “Yes, I have the statements right here, I already faxed them to you this morning…”
Obi-Wan shuts the door behind him and goes back downstairs to where the kids are eating. He reenters the kitchen just as Anakin shovels the last meatball on his plate into his mouth, and Obi-Wan blinks.
“It’sh relly good, Obi-Wan!” The teen says around his mouthful of food, and Obi-Wan sighs.
“You’re finished already?” He looks at Anakin’s plate that the boy is currently scraping clean of mashed potatoes, and Anakin nods. “What the heck is Qui-Gon feeding you?”
Anakin takes a long drink of water to wash the meal down. “Organic vegan crap horse food,” he says as he sets the glass back down, and Obi-Wan snorts.
“Would you like seconds, then?”
“ Yes , please,” Anakin says, already eyeing the meatballs still on the stove, and Obi-Wan chuckles seeing him practically drool onto his placemat. He takes Anakin’s plate and scoops a slightly smaller second helping of everything onto it, and sets it back down on the table in front of the eager growing teen. Anakin digs into his seconds wholeheartedly while Obi-Wan sits down with his first helping.
It’s a little cool by now, but that’s alright. Korkie gets potato on his face, and Obi-Wan reaches over across the table to wipe it off with a napkin.
After dinner Obi-Wan puts the dishes away and cleans the kitchen while Korkie and Anakin go watch tv-- with a reminder from Obi-Wan to Anakin to keep it age appropriate, to which Anakin responded with a scoff and a smirk, which Obi-Wan hopes meant yes of course Obi-Wan, whatever you say .
But when the kitchen is clean Obi-Wan dries his hands and goes over to the tv room, where they are indeed watching Peppa pig on the netflix. “Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, poking his head into the room, “is there a time that you need to be home by?”
“Ugh,” Anakin looks over at the clock. “I don’t know, but probably soon.”
“Aw,” Korkie says, nudging Anakin’s leg with his foot. “You’re leaving already?”
“Yeah,” Anakin sighs, and reaches over to ruffle the kid’s hair, to which Korkie squawks and swats at his hands. “Sorry, kid.” He stands from the couch, reaching over for the remote and pausing the tv.
“Would you like me to drive you home now?” Obi-Wan asks, and Anakin shrugs, stretching.
“I guess, yeah.”
Obi-Wan nods, closing his eyes for a moment. Christ, but he’s tired. “Alright. Korkie, no more tv, it’s going to be your bed time soon.”
“Okay,” the small child pouts. Obi-Wan turns off the tv, and Anakin shuffles out of the room. Korkie also leaves, going upstairs, and Obi-Wan follows Anakin up to the front door.
“Sick baby, bro.”
“Er, thank you?”
“Can I hold him?”
Obi-Wan finds Anakin in the front foyer leaning against the wall and pulling his shoes on with a frown. “Is everything alright?” He asks, and Anakin sighs.
“Fine,” he says. “Just… I don’t know.”
Obi-Wan puts a hand on his shoulder, and Anakin looks up from the floor. “That’s fine,” he says, “If ever you want to talk, or just need somewhere to escape for a while, you know you can always come here.”
“Yeah,” Anakin looks around at the big house, something which he has always expressed as novel, and one side of his mouth twitches up in a smile. “I know. You remind me all the time.”
“Only because I think you could do with a reminder,” Obi-Wan raises his eyebrows at him, and goes to put his own shoes on and pull on a coat, checking to make sure his keys are in his pocket. Behind him, Anakin huffs a laugh, and when he turns back around, Obi-Wan sees his brother (?) has taken on a slightly mistier expression.
“Thanks, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says before Obi-Wan can ask what’s wrong, and Obi-Wan tilts his head. “For, like, man I don’t know. Everything.”
Reaching over to put an arm around Anakin’s shoulders, Obi-Wan smiles. “Of course,” he says. “You can come to me for anything.”
“Yeah, I know,” Anakin repeats, then his gaze shifts a little out of focus, like he’s deep in thought. They go out to the car.
They drive to Qui-Gon’s condo in silence. When Obi-Wan pulls into the visitor’s parking and turns the car off, Anakin turns and looks at him in mild surprise. “You’re coming up?” He asks, and Obi-Wan shrugs.
“I’m just going to pop in and say hello,” he says. They get out of the car and take the elevator upstairs.
“I’m back,” Anakin calls as he opens the door to the unit and kicks his shoes off, Obi-Wan following him inside. Qui-Gon emerges from the office at the back of the unit, and from across the room Obi-Wan quickly examines his ex-foster father.
He’s wearing sandals inside, for one thing, and his clothes-- an open hawaiian shirt over a sweat stained wifebeater and cargo shorts-- are wrinkled and look like they need to be washed. His hair is grayer than the last time Obi-Wan saw him. The tall man pauses for just a second when he spots him, then unfreezes and keeps walking towards them.
“Hey buddy,” he says to Anakin. “Did you have fun at Rex’s?”
“Yeah,” Anakin says vaguely and goes right to his room, closing the door behind him. Leaving Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon alone in the kitchen.
“I can’t believe this. Telling me you wouldn’t come to the wedding even if you weren’t sick was one thing, sure it stung not having you there but I could live with it-- but the fact that your new accessory, sorry, adopted child , didn’t even know I exist at all?”
“That’s not fair, Obi-Wan.”
“No, christ Satine was right, you really don’t think of anyone but yourself...”
“Hello,” Obi-Wan says, trying not to sound as awkward as he feels. “How are you?”
“Fine,” Qui-Gon says, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “How are you? How’s the kid?”
“I am well,” Obi-Wan says, “and so is Korkie. He’s started kindergarten now, if you remember.” Qui-Gon makes a humming noise and nods, and Obi-Wan clears his throat. They kind of just stand there for a minute while Obi-Wan lingers, dithering on whether or not he should stay and have this conversation or just go. Qui-Gon doesn’t say anything either, looking around. They never really knew how to communicate, but it’s so much worse now.
“Would you like something to drink?” Qui-Gon nods into the fridge as he opens it and pulls out a beer. Obi-Wan shakes his head, and Qui-Gon shrugs.
Obi-Wan sighs, looking around. The floors need to be swept quite badly. Well, best to just get right to it. “Look, Qui-Gon, I know recovery has been difficult, but…” He starts, and Qui-Gon peers curiously at him. “It’s been a good few years, now, and Satine and I think it’s time you started being more financially independent again. We can’t pay your bills forever. I’m not saying we’re just going to abruptly cut you off completely, maybe start small, like the groceries? You could try maybe getting just a part time job, or going on unemployment?”
Qui-Gon crosses his arms. “You and Satine think, or Satine thinks?”
“What does that mean,” Obi-Wan says, technically it is a question but it doesn’t sound like one.
“I’m just saying, anytime that woman says anything you just absorb it like a sponge and regurgitate it. Do you even think for yourself anymore?” Qui-Gon raises an eyebrow in mild derision.
Obi-Wan scoffs in aggravation. “Jesus christ, Qui-Gon, Satine isn’t some evil mind-controlling witch, she is my wife and I love her very much-- you don’t have to like her, but could you at least just have a bit of basic respect for her?”
“Maybe when you have some respect for yourself, then I will. I still can’t figure out why the hell you married her.”
“Can we get back to the topic at hand, please?” Obi-Wan sighs and rubs his forehead. “Just-- I think it’s worth considering.”
“I will consider it,” Qui-Gon says, deflating a little. He leans back against the counter and takes a sip of his beer. “How are you, Obi-Wan, really?” His face seems to soften, and Obi-Wan shifts in place.
“I’m alright, really Qui-Gon.” He lies. “Everything is just fine.”
Qui-Gon gives him a look that says he doesn’t believe him, but he doesn’t press the issue.
“It’s late,” Obi-Wan says without looking at the clock. “I should go.”
“I guess so,” Qui-Gon says. There’s an odd look on his face, and Obi-Wan doesn’t want to try and parse it out. He says goodbye, turns, and leaves.