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Obi-Wan wakes in a warm bed in a warm apartment. This is unusual because he’s sure that when he went to sleep he was alone in an attic on war-torn Melida/Daan.
There is a man sitting next to the bed. He’s an adult, but not too old, probably barely into his twenties. There is a mask covering his mouth and nose but his sad gray eyes look vaguely familiar.
"Where am I?" Obi-Wan asks.
"You're in my apartment on Coruscant," the man says.
"Who are you?"
"Nobody. Just a local private investigator."
"What's your name?" Obi-Wan asks.
"Not important. Don’t worry about it."
And that's that.
Apparently, the detective had found Obi-Wan passed out in an undercity alley with no idea how he got there and brought him inside because he was worried about a kid being all alone in Coruscant. In that case, it’s probably for the best the detective doesn't know where Obi-Wan was just yesterday.
The more important thing, even more important than the fact that he somehow traveled across the galaxy overnight, is that he also seems to have traveled seventeen years into the future. Melida/Daan's war is over and has been for over a decade. Official sources never mention him, so Obi-Wan can only assume he either disappeared or died.
He feels...conflicted about that. He's glad they have peace now, but after fighting tooth and nail for months, to have it suddenly be over like this is terribly anticlimactic.
"Do you have anywhere to go?" the detective asks. "Any family? Friends? A home?"
Obi-Wan hesitates. If Melida/Daan’s war is over and he’s been missing for seventeen years, then they probably won’t recognize him, and they probably won’t want him back. And if he doesn’t go back to Melida/Daan, then there’s really only the Jedi Temple, but the Temple...he abandoned them, too. He gave Master Jinn his lightsaber and turned his back on the Jedi. They would probably accept him back, but Master Jinn wouldn’t, and Obi-Wan isn’t strong enough to face that.
He shakes his head. “No. I don’t have anywhere to go.”
The detective lets out a long sigh. “Okay. Then I guess you can stay with me for a while.”
Obi-Wan doesn’t know what to think of the detective. The detective is as kind and patient as Obi-Wan could ever hope for--he gets Obi-Wan clean new clothes, cooks good food with meat and vegetables and gives Obi-Wan second helpings, and doesn’t ask questions about where Obi-Wan came from or how he got where he is. He insists that Obi-Wan sleeps on the only bed while he takes the couch, and it’s...not bad. It’s warm and comfortable, and Obi-Wan isn’t sure how to deal with that. The two of them talk a little bit here and there, but not about anything useful. Just to fill the silence, the detective tells Obi-Wan a bit about his job as a private investigator, which seems to involve a lot of looking through tax records and invoices. It seems peaceful compared to what Obi-Wan was doing, but anything would be.
He can’t help but distrust the detective, though. For some reason, he can’t properly sense the detective with the Force, and it’s obvious the detective is hiding things, besides--Obi-Wan might only be thirteen, but he’s not stupid. There’s no other reason the detective would be so cagey. The detective refuses to tell Obi-Wan his name, he wears thick black gloves all the time even though they’re in his home, and the closest Obi-Wan gets to seeing the detective’s face is when the detective takes meals in the kitchen alone--the apartment is so small there’s nowhere to eat in actual privacy besides the fresher. He faces away when he pulls his mask off so Obi-Wan can only really make out a full beard.
There’s a grim air about the detective. He’s quiet and tired and he’s got the air of someone who doesn’t really spend a lot of time around other people. Obi-Wan gets the feeling that he’s...really unhappy.
“Why are you doing all this?” Obi-Wan asks over a late meal. The detective sits opposite him, though he doesn’t have any food for himself--he’ll take his meal later after Obi-Wan goes to sleep. “You could have given me to a foster care system or dropped me back on the street. You don’t have to do all this. You don’t even know me.”
“I knew someone a lot like you. He didn’t have anyone to help him, and he didn’t know how to ask.” The detective gets a faraway look in his eyes. “He was just a kid. I wish I could have done more for him.”
So that’s all it is. The detective used to have some kind of little brother and something terrible happened to him, so he’s trying to make up for it with Obi-Wan now. It’s kind of a relief, to know it’s for a selfish reason like that--that, at least, Obi-Wan can understand.
Still, Obi-Wan says, “I’m not him.”
The detective looks at him for a long moment, then shakes his head. “No, I guess not.”
Three days pass in a blur. It’s almost like a dream, one moment blending into the next. Obi-Wan eats well, sleeps well, and recovers, but nothing really happens. Obi-Wan doesn’t do much except rest and read about all the things that have happened in the last seventeen years. Outside of the resolution of Melida/Daan’s war, he finds out that Master Jinn is still alive and running missions. Not only that, but it seems he has a new Padawan now, and that’s...it stings, Obi-Wan won’t pretend it doesn’t. It crushes the last hope Obi-Wan had that he could still be a Padawan--it was a silly hope after he’d given it all up at Melida/Daan, but somewhere deep in his heart he’d had the childish idea that maybe he could go back and things would be okay. That maybe, Qui-Gon would come back for him.
Obi-Wan, officially no longer a Jedi, officially without a Master, sequesters himself in the fresher and cuts his braid off. It’s a sorry excuse of a braid--stubby and without any beads to indicate any kinds of achievements, but it was his. He stares at the severed strip of hair for a long time, feeling very unreal. Everything seems to hit him all at once--the displacement in time and space, the loss of his home and his dreams and everyone he’s ever known. He feels like he can’t breathe, and he doubles over in the shower stall, sobbing.
The detective knocks on the door. “Kid? Are you okay?”
Obi-Wan doesn’t know if he says anything.
“I’m coming in,” the detective says.
The door slides open, and the detective comes in. He looks at Obi-Wan and at the braid clenched in his fist and lets out a long breath. “Oh, kid.”
He scoops Obi-Wan up out of the shower and sets him down on the bed. Obi-Wan clings to the detective, crying into his chest, and the detective hugs him tight, rubbing slow circles across his back.
“You’ll be okay,” the detective murmurs softly. “Things are hard now, but they won’t be forever. Just let it out. You’ll be okay.”
Obi-Wan lets it out. It takes a while.
He doesn’t really feel okay.
The detective takes Obi-Wan downtown, and he lives close enough to the Senate district that Obi-Wan can see the Jedi Temple in the distance when they reach surface level. Just seeing it so close yet so out of reach makes something in Obi-Wan’s chest feel like it’s collapsing.
He wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything, but he can’t have it. That’s the choice he made, and he won’t go back on it now. He doesn’t have much, but he’s at least got enough dignity for that.
They walk around the city, and the detective treats Obi-Wan to some fried dumplings from a food stall. They’re not as good as the dumplings at the Temple, but they’re still pretty good, so Obi-Wan accepts them with thanks. The detective takes him to a couple of stores, too, so he can choose some clothes for himself and other small things he needs, and a few things he doesn’t.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Obi-Wan asks when the detective gives him a striped tooka plushie. “I’m not a kid. I’m too old for toys.”
“You don’t have to be a kid to have a toy,” the detective says. “You can do whatever you want with it, but if you really don’t want it I can take it back.”
Obi-Wan thinks about it, then shakes his head and squeezes the plush in his arms. He had a stuffed tooka like this when he was an Initiate--it’s not too bad to have some reminder of home. He tucks it under his arm when he sleeps that night and he doesn’t have any nightmares at all.
Neither Obi-Wan nor the detective bring up what Obi-Wan thinks of as The Question--What are they going to do with him? They both know this transitional period won’t last, and soon, they’ll have to make a decision.
There’s not a lot of places for a thirteen-year-old human to go. Obi-Wan can’t stay here with the detective indefinitely--it’s obvious the detective doesn’t have the space, time, or resources to take care of a youngling, and Obi-Wan can’t hide forever that he’s Force-sensitive or time traveled from the past. Maybe he’ll get a place on a spacer crew--sometimes mechanical teams will hire kids because of the small crawl spaces, and Obi-Wan is good with his hands. Or maybe he can get put into a foster care system or get adopted and stay with a family for a few years until he’s old enough to go places on his own.
He’s not really excited about any of those options.
Things come to a head one week in, when Obi-Wan wakes in the middle of the night and hears voices in the fresher.
“--don’t want to ask you out of the blue like this, but it’s kind of an emergency,” the detective says, muffled through the door. “I don’t need a lot, just enough to keep going. Enough for food and clothes and still cover the rent.”
Money. He’s talking about money--but with who?
“He’s a good kid. I’ve done my best with him but I’m really not the one who should be doing this.” A pause. "Bail, you don't understand. He's a Force-sensitive youngling, I can't just leave him here."
Obi-Wan goes cold all at once. The detective knows he's Force-sensitive. How? And more importantly, if he knows, then why didn't he bring Obi-Wan to the Jedi Temple? That's what any reasonable person would do--what any reasonable person should do, especially when they're a stone's throw away from the Temple to begin with, because why would there be a Force-sensitive kid in Coruscant if not because they're a lost Padawan?
"What, do you think I'm lying to you? Bail, believe me, if I was trying to scam you I would come up with a much better story. I'm just..." The detective sighs. After another pause, he says, "Okay, fine. I can bring him around tomorrow so you can see for yourself."
Obi-Wan recoils from the door. The detective is trying to sell him. That's why he didn't take Obi-Wan to the Temple and worked so hard to get Obi-Wan clean and clothed and fed, because healthy Force sensitives are more valuable in the slave markets.
The detective keeps talking on the commlink, oblivious to Obi-Wan's presence, but Obi-Wan isn't listening anymore. He has to protect himself, and that means getting away from here before the detective can hock him off to whoever this Bail person is.
Obi-Wan grabs his jacket and a handful of credits from the detective's coat pocket, then leaves. He just needs to get to the Jedi Temple--they won't like him but they'll protect him, and maybe they'll be able to send him somewhere safe. He'll take AgriCorps over slavery any day.
The Force is loud as he hits the streets. Coruscant has always been a psychic cesspool and it feels like being battered from the inside of his mind as he goes down the dark streets trying to find his way up to the surface. He feels the Force's urgency under his skin, like there's a monster on his tail with jaws ready to snap shut. He knows it won't be long until the detective finishes his comm and realizes Obi-Wan has flown the coop.
He's so preoccupied with getting away that he ends up running straight into a very tall Quarren.
"I'm sorry!" Obi-Wan says. "I wasn't looking where I was going, I'm really sorry!"
The Quarren looks down at him disapprovingly, or maybe their face just looks like that. "What's a kid doing out here this late at night all on their lonesome?"
Obi-Wan presses his lips shut. He knows a bad situation when he sees one and he has definitely reached a bad situation.
"A runaway, are you?" the Quarren asks, a definitely predatory edge to their voice. "Why don't I help you get someplace safe?"
"No, thank you," Obi-Wan says, because he's not stupid. "I have to be somewhere right now."
"It wasn't a request," the Quarren says, stepping closer.
Obi-Wan decides it's time to break and run, but a moment too late because someone grabs him from behind and jabs something in his neck.
Unconsciousness follows swiftly and not gently.
Obi-Wan wakes on a cold floor in a cold room. This is not unusual because he remembers exactly how he got here, despite the throbbing headache between his temples. His hands are cuffed and he appears to be in some kind of warehouse. He can still feel the Force, which is a good sign.
There is a man sitting on a nearby crate, smoking a stick of something that smells absolutely foul.
"Where am I?" Obi-Wan asks.
"Shut up. You're not here to ask questions," the man says.
"Who are you?"
"Someone who will be a lot happier if you stop making so much noise."
“What’s your name?” Obi-Wan asks.
The man walks over to Obi-Wan’s side and kicks him in the stomach.
So that’s that.
Apparently, Obi-Wan has been kidnapped with the intention of being ransomed, though good luck to his kidnappers finding anyone to ransom him to. If that falls through, plan B is to sell him to a slave market, which, while a very bad thing to happen, probably won’t happen for at least a couple of days, which gives Obi-Wan plenty of time to orchestrate an escape. Especially because these people, unlike the detective, don’t know he’s Force-sensitive and can pop his cuffs literally any time he chooses to. He just has to wait for the right moment, especially because the kidnappers keep him on constant watch, which makes it hard to use the Force without anyone noticing.
This isn’t the first time Obi-Wan’s been kidnapped, so he takes a deep breath and tries to figure out what to do next--nobody knows he’s here, and nobody’s looking for him, so if he wants to be rescued he’s going to have to do it himself. His kidnappers don’t treat him kindly, not that he expected to be--he’s barely given anything to eat, and he’s made to sleep on what appears to be a literal door mat, and nobody really talks to him except to make vague threats and occasionally hit him. On the bright side, they’re not actively torturing him, so it’s definitely not the worst captivity Obi-Wan has ever endured.
Obi-Wan bides his time, tracking the kidnappers through the building with the Force. There seems to be about eight of them in total, and his understanding is that they do this kidnap for ransom song and dance every so often for cash and haven’t been caught because they haven’t tried it with anyone important enough yet. Obi-Wan doesn’t find them too intimidating. He knows how to fight adults with his bare hands, and these are no different--he can’t take them all at once, but he could get them down one by one. As long as he plays his cards right, he should be able to escape.
He makes his move on the second day while one of his captors is escorting him to the fresher. He snaps his cuffs open and jams an elbow directly into the man’s stomach, and the man doubles over, gagging. Obi-Wan slams him in the ankle, sweeping him to the ground, then cuffs him, wrist to ankle behind his back so he won’t be going anywhere any time soon. The man shouts and swears at Obi-Wan, loud enough that someone definitely hears him, and Obi-Wan breaks for it, grabbing a length of old pipe to use as a weapon.
He takes down three more goons on his search for the exit, swinging the pipe into their knees with a sickening crack. One of the kidnappers cuffs him on the side of the head, hard enough to make him see stars, but Obi-Wan hits him in the jaw just as hard, and the man goes down shrieking in pain.
The fifth man is the Quarren who had gotten him into this mess, who snarls and twists the pipe from his grip. Obi-Wan dodges the kick at his side and calls the Force to his aid. It swells and ripples outwards, forcefully throwing the Quarren back into the wall.
“You little Jedi rat!” the Quarren roars at him. “I’m going to kill you!”
He pulls out a primed blaster. The Force screeches out a warning, but Obi-Wan is too close to dodge, and without a weapon to deflect it. He closes his eyes, bracing for the burn, and then--
The Quarren screams, then abruptly stops.
Obi-Wan opens his eyes. The Quarren is slumped against the wall, thoroughly unconscious...no, dead, Obi-Wan corrects. Or will be soon. There’s a blaster bolt straight through his chest--a perfect shot. Obi-Wan looks through the doorway where the shot must have come from, and...
The detective is there, a smoking blaster in his hand. His eyes widen when he sees Obi-Wan.
“Obi-Wan,” the detective says, running to meet him. “Obi-Wan, are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
Obi-Wan snatches the Quarren’s blaster and levels it at the detective. He doesn’t want to kill anyone, but he’ll do what he has to if it means he gets out of this alive. “Don’t come any closer,” he says. “Put the blaster down.”
The detective drops the blaster and holds his hands up.
“Why are you here?” Obi-Wan asks.
“I was looking for you,” the detective says. “You ran away in the middle of the night in the undercity--I was scared something had happened to you.”
“How did you find me?”
The detective’s brow furrows. “I’m a detective. Finding missing people is one of my main marketable skills.”
Okay, Obi-Wan kind of forgot that. That’s on him. “How do you know my name? I never told you.”
The detective looks at him a long moment, then sighs. “That’s...a long story. One that should probably wait until we get you out of here.”
“Why should I trust you?” Obi-Wan asks. “You killed that man. Why wouldn’t you do the same to me?”
A pained look flashes across the detective’s face. “I wouldn’t hurt you,” he says softly. “I know you don’t have any reason to believe me, but please, Obi-Wan. I want what’s best for you, I really do.”
Obi-Wan tries to get a sense for what the detective is feeling through the Force, but as always, it’s like trying to grab smoke with his hands--his senses just pass through.
“I’ll answer everything you want,” the detective says. “But please, let’s get out of here first.”
Obi-Wan nods. He’s not eager to be here, and there’s still three more kidnappers prowling around, presumably. “Okay. But I get to hold onto your blaster.”
The detective agrees, and the two of them leave.
There is a man in a speeder waiting about a block away. The man is taller than the detective and has darker skin and short black hair. He is also dressed much nicer than either of them. He looks at the detective with a sort of fond exasperation when he sees the two of them.
“Why do you always get into trouble like this?” the man asks.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the detective says. “I’ve never gotten into trouble like this before.”
“Well, it sounds like you get plenty of other types of trouble,” the man says. He looks at Obi-Wan and smiles softly. He looks like a kind man, but Obi-Wan’s met a lot of people who looked kind but aren’t. “Hello, Obi-Wan. My name is Bail Organa. I’m a friend of your, um.” He glances over at the detective.
“I’m not anything to him,” the detective says. “I’m just trying to get him somewhere safe.”
“Organa?” Obi-Wan asks. “Like the royal family of Alderaan?”
Bail nods. “I’m from Alderaan. I married into the royal family and I do some work for them.”
The detective snorts. “He means he’s the Viceroy and Senator. We might as well not dance around it.” To Obi-Wan, he says, “Bail’s a good man. I helped him out with a case a few years ago, so he’s paying me back the favor. He should be able to help you.”
Obi-Wan isn’t really sure what’s going on, but Alderaan is a good planet with a lot of social support. If Bail really is the Senator like he claims--and the Force gives no indication that he is lying--then he should have some connections to put Obi-Wan somewhere that isn’t too terrible. He nods his assent and Bail drives them away.
This is how the three of them end up in a very cushy apartment in that really expensive building where all the important people stay. The detective seems to find the building unpleasant to be in, but Obi-Wan likes it well enough. Bail gets Obi-Wan a glass of sparkling fruit juice and it’s sweet with a little fizzy sensation that he doesn’t find too unpleasant.
“I’ll let the two of you talk,” Bail says. “Let me know if you need anything.”
The detective nods and sits down opposite Obi-Wan. He looks more tired than usual--his hair’s in disarray and his eyes are slightly bloodshot. “You had questions, and I don’t blame you,” he says. “But before I let you get to all of them, I want to start with asking you: How old do you think I am?”
Obi-Wan’s brow furrows. “Like twenty-three?”
The detective shakes his head. “I’m thirty.”
Obi-Wan blinks. He wouldn’t have guessed that at all.
“I’m sure you want to know why that’s important,” the detective says. “Well, it’s probably easier to just show you.”
He reaches up and pulls his face mask off.
A lot of things make sense rather quickly, after that.
The detective’s name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. Seventeen years ago, he was a Padawan who left the Order to fight a war in Melida/Daan. Now, he is a private investigator in Coruscant because he cannot go back to the Jedi.
“So that whole time, you knew,” Obi-Wan says. “You knew who I was, and where I’d come from, and what I was.”
The detective nods.
“Why didn’t you take me to the Temple?” Obi-Wan asks. “Is it because you knew I’m not a Jedi anymore?”
“I didn’t take you to the Temple because I can’t make that choice for you,” the detective replies. “You chose to leave the Jedi, so you have to make the choice to go back.”
“You didn’t go back,” Obi-Wan says.
“We’re not the same person,” the detective says. “You are who I was once. But I’ve done things you haven’t and hopefully never will. You don’t have to grow up to be me. I sincerely hope you don’t.”
Obi-Wan looks down at his juice. He wonders what it must be like for the detective, to look at a past version of himself and realize they’ll never really understand each other. “Why can’t I sense you?” he asks. “In the Force, you’re...you feel empty. It’s like I can’t even touch you.”
“I lost the Force a long time ago,” the detective says simply, like that isn’t something that would kill just about anyone.
“But even people who are Force null can be sensed,” Obi-Wan presses. “Even if you...somehow lost your Force sensitivity, that doesn’t mean you should be like this.”
The detective scrubs a hand over their face. “I guess I should have known that wouldn’t get past you.” He looks up. “You can’t sense me because I haven’t been letting you. I didn’t want you to, because then you would know, and I didn’t want to burden you with that.”
“Oh,” Obi-Wan says. “But I know who you are now. Can you let me sense you?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You said you would answer my questions,” Obi-Wan says.
The detective seems to think about that for a long time, then says, “Okay. Just this once.”
He takes a deep breath, and Obi-Wan feels the detective’s presence shift like it’s coming into focus. Obi-Wan reaches out to touch it, and--
There’s nothing there. It’s like the endless void of space, a black hole from which nothing can escape. The detective’s presence is so small yet impossibly vast, an infinity stretching out to the edges of the universe that’s trapped in the soul of a single man. There’s hurt trapped in that infinity, a crushing loneliness and feeling of insignificance, the feeling of being the only creature drifting in a sea of dead stars and who will swiftly pass, unmourned and unloved.
Just as quickly as the sensation had come, it shifts out of focus once again, pulling away from Obi-Wan’s reach. Obi-Wan blinks rapidly, realizing only now that there are tears in his eyes. His chest hurts like there’s a fist squeezed around his heart, the yearning for someone to reach out to him, to touch him, to keep him grounded and here and alive.
Does the detective feel like this all the time? Obi-Wan can’t even imagine it. He would go insane--he doesn’t know how the detective hasn’t.
Obi-Wan wipes his eyes. “You said...you said you knew someone like me. And that he didn’t have anyone to help, and didn’t know how to ask.”
“There are people who care about you, Obi-Wan,” the detective says. “It’s not bad to ask for help sometimes, and not take everything on yourself.”
There’s weight behind those words, a kind of loneliness that makes Obi-Wan’s heart hurt just to think about. He wonders just how long the detective has been alone and trying to fend for himself. He wonders if the detective isn’t still that way now.
“Is that why you’re so unhappy?” Obi-Wan asks. “You needed help and nobody was ever there for you?”
The detective looks at him for a long time, then looks away. “I don’t think you need me to answer that.”
That night, they stay at Bail’s apartment. It is much larger than the detective’s little shoebox studio in the undercity, and it even includes a guest room with a huge bed.
“You can share with me,” Obi-Wan says. “There’s a lot of space.”
“I’ll be fine on the couch,” the detective replies. “It’s large enough to drown someone on, anyways.”
Obi-Wan shakes his head. Ever since he found out who the detective is and felt the depth of emptiness in his soul, he’s noticed how much the detective...doesn’t reach out. He does what he can for others, then relegates himself to the sidelines. Easily forgotten. Obi-Wan doesn’t want that. He wants the detective to be...better. To have something good and kind and soft. To have someone give him a striped tooka plushie and say it’s okay to have something frivolous just because it makes him feel better.
“Can you share with me?” Obi-Wan tries. “It’s been a long time since I’ve slept on a big bed like this. I think it would be better if there was someone else, too.”
The detective looks at him like he knows what Obi-Wan is trying to do, then huffs and says, “All right. If you insist, I suppose I won’t mind.”
The two of them settle under the plush blankets side-by-side and Obi-Wan marvels at how much larger the detective is than him. There’s seventeen years between the two of them, longer than Obi-Wan’s entire life, and Obi-Wan can feel it. It’s a distance that can never be bridged, and the detective clearly doesn’t want it to be. Maybe that’s for the best, but it doesn’t mean Obi-Wan shouldn’t at least try.
The detective settles an arm over Obi-Wan’s side. He’s warm, and Obi-Wan goes to sleep wrapped in that warmth.
For the first time since he left the Temple, he feels safe.
The next morning, the two of them have a large breakfast courtesy of Bail, and Obi-Wan sees Bail make some eyes at the detective which raises a lot of questions about their relationship. Bail provides the detective a change of clothes which is much nicer than anything the detective owns, and later on, Obi-Wan sees Bail pass the detective a credit chip, which is...
Obi-Wan’s not sure how to feel about the fact that his future self apparently has some kind of...sugar baby arrangement with a Senator. He decides to ignore it--it’s none of his business anyways.
“What do you want to do?” the detective asks Obi-Wan as they leave.
“I want to go back to the Temple.”
Obi-Wan’s thought about it for a while now, ever since he got kidnapped. In the end, the Temple is still his home. His family is still there, even if they’re all so much older than him now. Maybe he isn’t a Padawan anymore and he never will be, but he can still have a good life there, surrounded by people he cares about. One setback isn’t the end of the world--not even one as big as what Obi-Wan did--the detective has proven that much.
The detective smiles. “Okay. We can go there today.”
“But can we wait a little?” Obi-Wan asks. “I just wanna...be with you today.”
The detective doesn’t seem to know how to answer that.
“It would make me happy,” Obi-Wan says.
The detective laughs. “You can’t use that to always get your way, kid.”
Obi-Wan makes big tooka eyes at the detective. “Please?”
“All right,” the detective says. “Just today, and then I’ll take you to the Temple.”
They spend the day in downtown Coruscant, seeing the sights. The detective takes him to a diner that’s run by a very cheerful Besalisk and Obi-Wan gets to eat a nerfburger the size of his head, then they visit one of the many aquariums and Obi-Wan looks at the colorful fish from so many different worlds. Obi-Wan drags the detective into a holo booth and he makes silly faces at the detective’s side. In that tiny little holo reel, the two of them really do look like brothers, and Obi-Wan gets two copies so he can slip one into the detective’s coat pocket when he isn’t looking.
For the first time since he became a Padawan, he feels like a kid in a good way--carefree and not having to worry about anything further than arm’s length. Nobody’s lives are depending on him, nobody’s judging his skills or his knowledge or if he’s making the right decisions. It’s just him and the detective in a city that’s so big and colorful and new.
When the sun goes down, the detective walks Obi-Wan to the Jedi Temple. Obi-Wan holds the detective’s hand tightly, hard enough to feel the hard metal hiding under the detective’s right glove--something else the detective has chosen not to explain.
“This is as far as I can go,” the detective says when they reach the Temple’s threshold. The gates are not even five minutes’ walk away.
“You won’t go with me?” Obi-Wan asks.
“The Force doesn’t work for me the way it works for you,” the detective says. “And it feels like it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to enter the Temple grounds. I’m not a Jedi besides.”
Obi-Wan makes big eyes, but on this, the detective won’t budge.
The detective ruffles his hair. “Sorry, kid.”
Obi-Wan flings his arms around the detective and squeezes him tight. “Thank you,” he says. “Thank you for being there for me. And for looking for me when I ran away. And for--for everything.”
“It’s the least I could do,” the detective says. “I want you to be happy, Obi-Wan. Live a good life, find the people you want to be with, do something that is important to you. Be something better than me.”
“You’re not so bad,” Obi-Wan says. “You’re a good person, still. You helped me and did all those things even though you didn’t have to. You got through all those things that happened to you, and you’re still so kind. That’s important.”
The detective smiles sadly. “I’m glad you think so highly of me.”
“I just wish you weren’t so unhappy,” Obi-Wan says. “Isn’t there anything I can do to help?”
The detective shakes his head. “I made my choices a long time ago. You can’t change any of them. It’s not your job to take care of me, kid. Just look after yourself, okay? That’s all I want.”
Obi-Wan nods. “Okay. I will.”
He stays there for a while longer, clinging to the detective because he doesn’t want the moment to end, but eventually he has to go.
“What if they’re angry with me?” Obi-Wan asks. “What if they don’t want me back?”
“I don’t think that’ll happen,” the detective says. “The Jedi are kind and understanding people, and you were in a situation where you made a choice that was unfair and never should have happened. Maybe you won’t be able to have all the things you wanted, but that doesn’t mean things can’t still be good.”
That all makes sense, but Obi-Wan can’t help but think what if. “You should come with me.”
“The Temple is your home, not mine,” the detective says. “Now, go on. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you alive and well.”
Obi-Wan takes a deep breath. “Okay,” he says. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“Goodbye, Obi-Wan,” the detective says. “May the Force be with you.”
“Goodbye, Obi-Wan,” Obi-Wan replies, squeezing the detective’s hand one last time. “May the Force be with you always.”
With that, Obi-Wan turns and walks up to the Temple’s gates.
Obi-Wan’s appearance causes a bit of a stir in the Temple. And why not? He left the Order seventeen years ago and now he’s here again, still the youngling he was when he left.
He gets questioned by a lot of people who look a lot older than Obi-Wan expected them to. He even meets some of his old friends--namely Quinlan who happens to be on planet--who nearly bursts into tears to see him. He squeezes Obi-Wan tight in his arms just to see that he’s here and alive, gives him his old lightsaber back (and why Quinlan had it in the first place is a question for a later date), and introduces Obi-Wan to Aayla, his new Padawan. Obi-Wan greets her happily while trying not to think about how so much has changed since he last saw Quinlan that he doesn’t really even know him anymore.
He even sees Master Jinn once, who looks like his heart shatters the moment he sets eyes on Obi-Wan. He apologizes for what he did, for having so much pride that he made Obi-Wan make the choice he did, and for never going back. It’s a cold comfort, because he knows from the detective that for all of Master Jinn’s remorse, he never would have gone back.
Master Jinn introduces Obi-Wan to his new Padawan, whose name is Anakin and who is a little bit older than Obi-Wan. He’s got a Force presence like a sun, powerful and blinding, and Obi-Wan supposes he can see why Master Jinn would want a Padawan like that--someone skilled and strong and who isn’t tripping over their own feet.
Anakin looks at him up and down and seems to find him wanting. “Master Qui-Gon is my Master,” he says.
“I know,” Obi-Wan says. He supposes he would feel a little threatened, too, if he’d been a Padawan and his Master’s old Padawan had appeared out of nowhere. Anakin needn’t worry, though, because Obi-Wan’s not a Padawan at all anymore--he’s got no braid or anything.
Anakin nods. “Just so long as that’s clear.”
Obi-Wan decides he does not like Anakin very much. It’s obviously petty--it’s not like it’s Anakin’s fault that Master Jinn chose him, and he’s happy to be there--but Obi-Wan doesn’t like how proprietary Anakin is about Master Jinn, nor how it seems to come out every time Obi-Wan is near him.
Obi-Wan doesn’t like Anakin and that’s okay. There’s plenty of other people in the Temple.
After some very long days, Obi-Wan finds himself in front of the Jedi Council, awaiting their judgement. He’s scared, but it’ll be okay. No matter what happens, he can make something work, and worst case scenario he can probably go talk to Bail again and get some help, not that he expects to need it.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Master Windu says. He has more wrinkles than the last time Obi-Wan saw him, just over three months ago, but he looks as dignified as ever. “We believed you were lost to us forever. Perhaps it’s the Will of the Force that you were able to return to us.”
Obi-Wan doesn’t respond. He still doesn’t know how he came to be here, now, but he doesn’t think it’s very important.
“Between the assumptions we made about your fate and what appears to be time travel, we find ourselves in an unprecedented situation,” Master Windu says. “So I must ask, Kenobi. What do you want to do?”
Obi-Wan takes a deep breath. “I want to be a Jedi Knight, Master.”
“Master Jinn reported that you chose to leave the Order at Melida/Daan because you felt were unable to uphold its principles. Has this changed?” Master Windu asks.
“I...chose to leave the Order because I believed that I could help the war in Melida/Daan,” Obi-Wan says. “I understand that war is not the Jedi way, and that I have done things that I should not have, but I did those things believing they would result in the least harm, and because they were the best choices I had. I still believe in the principles of the Jedi Order, and want to live by them, and if you will welcome me back, I hope to continue my training and become a Knight that the Order can be proud of, Master.”
“Well said, young one,” Master Koon says.
“I understand Master Jinn can no longer be my Master, because he has taken on a new Padawan,” Obi-Wan continues. “But I would like to petition for another Master. I understand I may need a firmer hand of guidance to correct my past mistakes, so I humbly request that Master Windu or another member of the Council takes me on as a Padawan.”
Master Windu’s brows go up. “That’s a bold request.”
“If I am a Councilor’s Padawan, I will be sent on fewer off-world missions,” Obi-Wan explains. “It will reduce the risk that something like what happened at Melida/Daan will happen again, and you will be able to closely monitor my progress. I thought--it’s just...” Obi-Wan swallows nervously. “It made sense to me. I apologize if I overstepped, Masters.”
There’s a long silence as the Council deliberates, then Master Windu lets out a long sigh. “Well, it’s not that I don’t want to take you on as a Padawan...”
Obi-Wan’s heart sinks. He came on too strong--they’ll never let him be a Padawan now.
“But as it turns out, you’re already spoken for,” Master Windu says. “A Knight has already requested to be your Master, if you’ll accept them.”
“A Knight?” Obi-Wan asks. “Who?”
Master Windu gestures to the door, which swings open on cue. There’s a Mon Calamari in Healer’s robes there, and she smiles at Obi-Wan. It’s Bant. She’s so tall now, and she looks good and healthy and strong. She’s grown up into a real Knight, and it makes Obi-Wan’s eyes tear up to think of how much time has passed. Her presence in the Force is steady and warm, like it always was, like the crisp smell of the Room of a Thousand Fountains, and she reaches out to him with joy and relief.
“Obi,” Bant says. Her voice is lower than it used to be, but she still says his name the same way. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my Padawan learner?”
Obi-Wan says yes. Of course he does--there’s nothing else he’s ever wanted more.
Obi-Wan spends his first day of being a Padawan for the second time not doing much at all. He helps Bant move into a set of rooms which has a Padawan suite--Obi-Wan himself has nothing to move, of course. He spends the rest of the day shadowing her work in the Halls of Healing and talking to her without words. He tells her about all the things that happened after he went to Melida/Daan, and she tells him about what she had done in the years since his disappearance.
A lot has changed in seventeen years. Master Tahl is dead, for one thing, and all of Obi-Wan’s old friends are Knighted now, or chosen different paths. There’s also a new Chancellor, which makes sense--it has been seventeen years, and politics are hardly going to wait for Obi-Wan’s time travel mishaps.
Bant is a Knight Healer, which means she does most of her work in the Halls of Healing, but also she helps with archival work under Master Nu and coordinates relief work with MedCorps and AgriCorps. It’s good work, and Bant has settled into it like she was born for it. This, at least, is not unexpected--Obi-Wan always knew Bant would find the right place for her. Obi-Wan isn’t sure if this is the place for him, but he’s willing to try.
“You’ll have some off-world missions,” Bant says. “They won’t be like the ones you had with Master Jinn--I mostly work relief missions, like administering vaccines, disaster reconstruction, or evacuations. Some of them, you’ll work with Service Corps members more than you’ll work with me--it’ll be a lot to handle at once, but you’ll pick it up quickly, I know it.
“Other than that, I can teach you about Archivist work or Healing, or if there’s something else you want to learn I can help find a Master who can work with you on that,” Bant says. “I want you to be the best you can be, Obi. Just let me know how I can help.”
Obi-Wan nods. The whole world is open to him now, and he just needs to choose a path. If only it were that easy.
“Obi?” Bant asks. “Is everything okay?”
“You’re so...talented, Bant,” Obi-Wan says. “You know so many things now and you’re so strong and kind and good. I don’t know if I can be like that.”
“You don’t have to be perfect,” Bant says. “All you have to do is try your best, and I know you will, because you always do. I’ve had all these years to learn everything I know now, and I’m still learning. I think it’ll be the same for you, too.”
“Yeah,” Obi-Wan says. “It’s just a lot.”
“It is,” Bant agrees. “But we’ll make it through this together.”
A tenday after returning to the Temple, Obi-Wan finally asks the question he’s had ever since he found out who the detective was.
“Why didn’t anyone ever come back for me?”
Bant looks at him, takes a deep breath, and puts her tea down. “We didn’t know how bad it was, Obi. Master Jinn didn’t think you were going to be in the war the way you were, and he thought you would contact us again for help. He didn’t expect that you would fall off the map the way you did.”
“But even if I hadn’t engaged in the fighting, it was still a war,” Obi-Wan says. “I wouldn’t have been safe.”
Bant shakes her head. “No, you wouldn’t.” She moves the food around on her plate a bit, then says, “I had dreams after you left for a long time. Dreams of battlefields and blood and death. I tried to tell people about what I saw, but I don’t think anyone ever could have expected that you would...do what you did. You were just a youngling, after all.”
“The war went on for three and a half years after I left,” Obi-Wan says. “Why didn’t anyone at least try to check on me or see what happened?”
“At first, we didn’t know there was anything we had to check on, and after we realized how bad it was, we thought you were dead,” Bant says. “Your bonds all snapped, and we--we thought you were gone. Maybe that’s when you traveled through time.”
That seems like a reasonable assumption, but Obi-Wan remembers the emptiness in the detective’s soul and doesn’t think that’s right at all.
“When did that happen? The bonds snapping?” Obi-Wan asks.
“Just a bit after your fourteenth birthday, I think,” Bant says. “We held a pyre for you--your name is on the memorial.”
Realization floods through Obi-Wan. They...don’t know the detective is alive. They have no idea. All these years, the detective has been drifting through the galaxy, believing the Jedi didn’t want him, and all this time they’ve missed him and let him go because they thought he was dead.
“Bant,” Obi-Wan says tightly. “Bant, I need to tell you something.”
“Yes? What is it?”
“I’m not fourteen yet,” Obi-Wan says. “That thing you felt, that wasn’t me.”
Bant looks at him. “Obi?”
Obi-Wan takes a deep breath. “There’s someone you need to talk to.”
“Are you sure this is the right place?” Bant asks as Obi-Wan leads her up the stairs to a small undercity apartment. The two of them look very out of place, but it’s the place they need to be.
“I’m certain,” Obi-Wan says. “Just trust me, okay?”
“I trust you,” Bant says. “But I hope you’re not bothering some random civilian.”
“I’m not,” Obi-Wan replies. He stops in front of the door he remembers and presses the door comm.
There’s a long silence, then static. “Who is it?” the detective asks.
“It’s me,” Obi-Wan says. “Obi-Wan. I have someone you need to talk to.”
There’s a burst of static that is probably a sigh. “Kid. Didn’t I tell you not to get in trouble?”
“No, you told me to look after myself. That’s not the same thing,” Obi-Wan says. “Can you open the door please? It’s important.”
“Fine, just give me a second to make myself presentable,” the detective says, then shuts the door comm off.
Bant glances at Obi-Wan curiously, but doesn’t say anything. She’s patient enough to wait and see what happens.
Soon enough, Obi-Wan hears footsteps inside the apartment, and the door slides open. “All right, here I am,” the detective says. He’s clipped his hair up and put on one of those shirts that Bail probably gave to him--it looks too expensive for the detective’s usual budget. “When I dropped you off at the Temple, I didn’t mean you should come back, and--” He sees Bant and abruptly cuts himself off. There’s an awkward silence as they measure each other up. Eventually, the detective seems to gather his thoughts and says, “...I see. Maybe the two of you should come in.”
The detective’s apartment looks just like Obi-Wan remembers--small and neat. The detective brews a pot of tea and in the meantime, Bant seems to take it all in, trying to find some meaning in the arrangement of the furniture and the trinkets, like she can unearth the detective’s secrets just by seeing the place where he lives.
Eventually, the tea is finished and the detective pours three mugs for them and pulls up a box to the table to sit down on--he only has two chairs. “All right,” he says. “What do you want from me?”
“Obi-Wan,” Bant says. “You’re...alive?”
“Of course I’m alive,” the detective says. “I’m too stubborn to die.”
“But I thought...with Obi...” Bant glances at Obi-Wan. “So you’ve been out here this whole time? How long have you been in Coruscant?”
The detective shrugs. “About five years now. I was out in the Outer Rim for a while, but I didn’t like how it was going and wanted to come back somewhere more familiar.”
“But you didn’t come to the Temple?” Bant asks.
“Didn’t seem like a good idea,” the detective says. “I’m not a Jedi by any metric anymore, and it didn’t seem like anyone would want me back.”
“Obi, no, that’s not true,” Bant says. “I’ve missed you ever since you left, all those years ago. I used to go up to the spire and look up at the stars and wonder if you were out there, and--” She lets out a long breath. “Obi-Wan. I’m so sorry we abandoned you.”
“It’s a little late to say sorry,” the detective says. “But I’ll accept the apology in the spirit it’s made.”
The two of them talk for a while, and piece by piece, Bant gets the story out of the detective--of the war at Melida/Daan, the crimes he committed in an effort to end the war, trying to come back to the Temple and being sent away by the Force, going to Jedha and then drifting around the galaxy with a notorious bounty hunter before coming back home to Coruscant. Obi-Wan can’t even imagine going through all of that, especially with nobody to support him.
“Don’t tell me to come back to the Temple,” the detective says. “I don’t belong there anymore, and I think it’s best for everyone that I don’t try.”
“Is that what you really want?” Bant asks.
The detective nods. “The way I use the Force now, I don’t think the Temple is good for me anymore, and I don’t want to see all the things I’ve lost. You can’t begrudge me that, can you?”
“If that’s your choice, I’ll respect it,” Bant says. “But you should at least let your friends know you’re alive. Quinlan especially would be thrilled.”
“He has a Padawan now,” Obi-Wan says. “Her name is Aayla and she’s a Twi’lek.”
“They let Quinlan have a Padawan?” the detective asks. “What is the world coming to?”
“Aayla’s a good kid,” Bant says. “Quinlan hasn’t corrupted her, somehow. They’re good for each other.”
The detective’s expression softens. “That’s good to hear. I’m glad everyone’s doing well in my absence.”
Bant frowns. “Obi-Wan...”
“I mean it sincerely,” the detective says. “It would be insane to expect you all to not move on. That’s not the Jedi way, and it’s not a good way to live, either. I’m glad you’re happy, even if I wasn’t there to see it.”
“Oh, Obi,” Bant says, and pulls the detective into a hug. “I missed you. I missed you so much, Obi.”
The detective goes stiff for a second, then relaxes into the hug and wraps his arms around Bant. “I missed you too, Bant. I’m glad you’re doing okay.”
Obi-Wan and Bant stay over with the detective for a couple of hours, talking and eating and playing a few rounds of cards where Obi-Wan loses very badly. It’s a good time, but it can only ever be temporary, and eventually they have to leave.
“Wait,” Obi-Wan says. “Can I...talk to him a little bit? Just on my own?”
Bant looks at the detective, then at Obi-Wan, and nods. “Okay. But don’t take too long--we’ve already taken enough of his time.”
Obi-Wan nods and goes back into the apartment, where the detective is washing dishes.
“Why are you back in here? Did you forget something?” the detective asks.
“I wanted to talk to you,” Obi-Wan says.
The detective runs a dish under the sink, then puts it on the drying rack. “Well, we’re both here. Say whatever you want to say.”
“I think you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself,” Obi-Wan says. “I think you should forgive yourself a little more, and not feel so guilty about all the things that happened when you were in an unfair situation.”
“You want me to forgive myself for killing people?” the detective asks. “That’s not a very Jedi-like thing to do.”
“I get the feeling that you’re so unhappy because you’re...not the best version of you you could be, because you left the Order and aren’t a Jedi and can’t be a Jedi,” Obi-Wan says. “And because you’re lonely, and nobody was there for you, and you had to go through all those really hard things on your own.”
“I’m not the best version of you,” the detective says. “I’m not even the second or third or fourth best versions of you, because I decided to throw everything away when things got hard.”
“You’re the alive version of me,” Obi-Wan says. “And maybe it could have ended up better, but you’re here now and you’re still trying to be good and that matters a lot.”
The detective doesn’t answer right away. He scrubs the last dish and rinses it off, his expression as flat as it ever is. He sets the dish aside and shuts the faucet off. “Obi-Wan. I don’t need you to absolve me of what I did. That’s not your job.”
Obi-Wan balls up his fists. It feels like he’s talking to a wall--the detective won’t open up even the slightest amount. “Why--Why do you feel like you need absolution at all? Why do you feel so guilty about me? You are me.”
“I’m not,” the detective says. “I’m not, because sixteen years ago in a hellhole of a battlefield, I killed you. I killed you, an innocent youngling who was trying to do his best to help people because I was desperate and didn’t see any better way out but to get rid of everything that made me me. I ripped the Force out of my chest, I went back on all my vows, and I murdered you so I could live, and sometimes it feels like the only reason I’m still alive is so that your sacrifice isn’t wasted. If I could take it back, I would, because you deserve so much better than to become someone like me.”
Obi-Wan takes a deep breath. He doesn’t know what to say to that--what can he say to that? The detective isn’t what Obi-Wan ever wished to be, but he’s still so strong and kind and trying so hard to keep everything together, and it hurts to think that the detective would trade his existence for Obi-Wan’s in a heartbeat.
“I don’t--I don’t know what circumstances you were in,” Obi-Wan says. “Or the choices you had to make, or if you made the right or wrong ones. But if I...if I gave my life for you...I wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up for it forever. I would want you to be happy.”
The detective looks at him a long moment, then turns away and rubs his eyes. “Obi-Wan,” he says, and he sounds a bit choked. “You shouldn’t have come back here, much less brought back a Jedi. Just go home and forget about me. It’ll be easier for everyone that way.”
“I brought Bant here because you deserved to know,” Obi-Wan says. “The Temple didn’t abandon you because they didn’t want you--they thought you were dead, and didn’t know they could do anything.”
“Their reasons don’t change that they weren’t there for me when I needed them,” the detective says. “And now they’re not a part of my life at all.”
“But you still deserve to know,” Obi-Wan says. “They still love you. Even Master Jinn, who made all those mistakes when he didn’t go back, he’s sorry for what happened.”
“I don’t need or want his apologies. I spent years hating Master Jinn--and years getting over it,” the detective replies. “I don’t need to rip those wounds back open.”
Obi-Wan looks at him. He can’t read the detective’s expression at all, and his presence in the Force is just as ghostly as ever. “So you don’t want to go back to your family at all?”
“I don’t have a family,” the detective says, and that hurts. “You know what I’ve done, you know what’s happened to me. You know as well as I do that I can’t be a Jedi anymore. I know you want to help, Obi-Wan, but there’s nothing you can do. Let it go.”
But Obi-Wan can’t let it go. Not now, not like this. He steps up to the detective and hugs him tightly around the waist. “Maybe you aren’t a Jedi anymore and you never will be again,” he says. “And maybe you don’t have a family anymore. But you can have a new one. I’ll be your family, and Bant too, and probably a lot of other people.”
“Obi-Wan...”
“I know it’s...hard for you to ask for help, because you don’t know how,” Obi-Wan says.
“You shouldn’t use my words against me. That’s not fair.”
“So this is me telling you you’re not alone anymore. Because I’m here for you,” Obi-Wan says. “And maybe it’s not my job to make you stop being unhappy, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be with you, because I like you, Obi-Wan. I forgive you. Even if you’re not who you wanted to be, I’m glad you’re here and alive and that I was able to meet you.”
The detective sets a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Well, you were always a better person than me.”
Obi-Wan headbutts the detective in the chest. “Don’t talk like that.”
The detective pushes Obi-Wan away. “You should go. Bant’s waiting for you.”
“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself,” Obi-Wan says. “Because I’m gonna come see you again, and I’ll be really sad if you get hurt or something happens to you.”
“You can’t emotionally blackmail me for everything,” the detective says.
“Will you promise?”
The detective looks at him, then sighs. “I have a dangerous job, you know.” Then, at Obi-Wan’s mulish look, he adds, “But okay. I promise I’ll do my best.”
“Thank you,” Obi-Wan says. He gives the detective another quick hug, then goes to the door.
“And Obi-Wan?” the detective calls out.
“Yeah?”
“If you’re going to bring a Jedi to my apartment again, can you comm ahead first?”
Obi-Wan grins. “Yeah, I’ll do that next time. I’ll see you then!”
The detective waves him goodbye, and Obi-Wan goes out into the hall where Bant is waiting for him.
“Is everything okay?” she asks.
“I think so,” Obi-Wan says.
“I’m worried about him,” Bant says as they head back down the stairs. “He’s so sad, I don’t even know how he stands it.”
“He is,” Obi-Wan agrees. “But I think he’ll get better. We’re here, and we’ll help him.”
Obi-Wan will never be able to understand what the detective went through, and that’s probably a good thing. All those years he suffered, all those trials he endured, the marks they’ve left on the detective will never go away. He’s carried so much guilt and remorse and anger over the years, mourning his own death and his own innocence, and Obi-Wan can’t change any of that, but he can make it better. The detective won’t have to face all those things alone anymore.
That much, Obi-Wan can be certain of.