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Obi-Wan sat in the hard chair, his knees tightly drawn to his chin as he watched the slow, shallow rise and fall of Qui-Gon’s chest. The only sound in the room was the life monitors echoing off the Temple’s stone walls, and the pounding of his own heartbeat in his ears. Obi-Wan curled into himself further, feeling more separated from Qui-Gon by the tubes and wires than he had by the shields in the reactor chamber on Naboo.
No matter how many assurances the Healers had given him over the past week that Qui-Gon would make a full recovery, Obi-Wan couldn’t chase the terrible image from his mind. He choked back a sob at the memory, reluctant to accidentally disturb Qui-Gon’s rest, even if he had been in a healing trance for over a week.
The events that led him to this point spun through his mind, the mission that brought them to Naboo and aiding the young Queen Padme in her escape. Their fateful stop on Tatooine, where they met the slave boy Anakin and his kind mother, where Qui-Gon’s soft heart had almost lost them everything. Qui-Gon had wagered his own life in a gamble for theirs. They had been lucky that Anakin was truly the pilot he had claimed to be, and had won the race, freeing the Skywalker family and winning their needed parts.
They hadn’t been so lucky when a new threat appeared from the shadows, a Sith apprentice named Maul, who had tracked them to Tatooine and attacked them in its burning sands. With Dooku’s help, they had escaped the Sith, but not before learning of a greater threat to the galaxy.
Upon their return, Dooku had taken the boy before the Council, his Force sensitivity unrivaled even among the Masters. As Padawans, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were not privy to the ensuing argument and decision by the Council, but the boy had been allowed to join the Temple as an initiate and his mother offered a place on Naboo in the Queen’s household.
And then they returned to Naboo with the Skywalker family and their Master. Obi-Wan’s eyes stung at the memory, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. The Sith had tracked them from Tatooine to Naboo and eventually separated them from Dooku, leading the Padawans into the depths of Theed, into one of the large reactor chambers that powered the massive city.
Qui-Gon had rushed forward through the shields, distancing himself from Obi-Wan. When Qui-Gon had meditated behind that last shield, the Sith taunting them from the reactor room beyond, Obi-Wan had known that Qui-Gon would try to sacrifice himself, that he was rushing to his death, to try and protect Obi-Wan.
And then, in an instant, Obi-Wan’s world collapsed, the Zabrak Sith’s snarl haunting as his bright red saber pierced Qui-Gon’s stomach, Obi-Wan locked behind that terrible shield, unable to do anything but scream as the man he loved crumbled to the ground, his life seeping into the Force.
The events that followed seemed a blur, all at once faster than a breath and longer than a lifetime. Once the shield dropped, Obi-Wan rushed forward to fight the Sith, his anger and fear threatening to take control, clouding his connection to the Force. Their blades clashed, and they spun through the room, the Sith much more powerful and experienced than Obi-Wan’s eighteen years.
Maul lashed out, knocking Obi-Wan into the melting pit, his lightsaber falling far below. The only thing that saved him was an indicator light that jutted from the inner rim of the pit, just wide enough for his fingers. On desperate instinct, Obi-Wan flung himself up and out of the pit, pulling Qui-Gon’s saber to himself with the Force and lashing out against Maul once more, cleaving the Sith’s body in two.
Obi-Wan crumbled to his knees beside Qui-Gon as the echoes of running feet filled the chamber. Their Master rushed forward, followed by the Queen’s guard. Dooku was able to stabilize Qui-Gon for long enough for the Healers to arrive, but the injuries Qui-Gon had suffered were severe, and required healing beyond what Naboo could provide.
Later, Obi-Wan learned that by retracing Maul’s movements and communications, the Jedi had been able to ascertain the Sith Lord’s identity, and the Chancellor’s threat to the galaxy was neutralized by the Council and Senate. Much damage had already been done by the Sith, and much work would need to be done to repair the wounds they had left.
As he sit, watching the still form, Obi-Wan’s mind drifted further, filling his heart with deep regret, thinking of the kisses he had shared with Qui-Gon over the past eleven months, that he had never had the courage to tell Qui-Gon the depth of his feelings. That he had never told Qui-Gon that he loved him.
“Obi-Wan?” The soft groan stirred Obi-Wan from his thoughts. Qui-Gon shifted on the small bed, trying to sit up despite the tubes and wires.
“Hey, hey, don’t move too much.”
Qui-Gon’s eyes crinkled with a smile as he looked into Obi-Wan’s face. “Hello there.”
“Hello there, yourself.” Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon’s gentle hand brushed against his cheek, brushing away the hot tears Obi-Wan hadn’t noticed had started to fall.
“What’s all this about, hum?”
“You told me you would always stay by my side!” Obi-Wan sniffled, relief flooding his heart, “You are not allowed to die, Qui-Gon Jinn.”
Qui-Gon reached up to pull Obi-Wan down, his strength surprising for what his body had been through over the past week. A light caress of lips against his own startled Obi-Wan, his cheeks flushing.
“I knew I would be alright, as long as you were by my side. I love you, Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon said as he released his hold, letting his hands fall weakly to his sides as he slipped back into sleep.