Chapter Text
Obi-Wan had quickly learned that focusing on the minutiae of an event would only drive a person insane. However, here he was as his mind moved back to the little minutiae of that day almost a year ago.
For the moment, he stood in one of the lecture halls at Trinity College. It was empty only in reality. In Obi-Wan’s mind, he saw it filled with students. All of the students had grown up, moved on, but in that moment Obi-Wan saw those students frozen in time and scattered across the seats.
In his head, he wasn’t standing at the front behind the podium. Obi-Wan was one of the students sitting in the seats, much younger, no beard and hair cut short, but he was there. He saw himself.
He had been seventeen at the time on a trip with his school from Scotland. They had gone to hear several lectures on different subjects to a) show off Oxford and b) to hopefully motivate some of the slackers of the school. Obi-Wan had been surprised about going. Having lived at an orphanage all his life, the chance to go out and do things that weren’t mandatory by the school were always few and far between. It had likely been because he’d be gone the next year.
Now a part of Obi-Wan wished he hadn’t gone. That he’d stayed at the orphanage and listened to the stories as told by the other students once they’d come back.
But he had gone and sat down at the first lecture. It had been on theology and like most of the students, Obi-Wan was planning on being bored out of his mind for the next hour or, at best, being mildly interested.
Instead, the Professor had walked up, opened his mouth, and Obi-Wan had fallen hopelessly in love.
Well, it hadn’t quite happened like that but he had become utterly enthralled by Qui-Gon Jinn in that short time. Most of the students, despite their expectations, had enjoyed it as well but they still hadn’t been interested enough to approach the man. Obi-Wan had been the exact opposite and had practically run to the front to talk to the professor before he had the chance to leave.
That talk had lead to a phone number which had led to more talks and even get-togethers. First it had just been sitting in book stores or parks but then coffee had been added to the mix. After coffee it was getting a bite, then a proper lunch, and finally dinner. It had all developed over the course of two years and then? Obi-Wan had kissed him.
In retrospect, he had been lucky that he hadn’t gotten into Trinity College and that Qui-Gon had left for a teaching position in Northern Ireland before he even could. The age gap had been bad enough. If Obi-Wan had ended up his student, the backlash would have been much worse.
As it had stood, that had thankfully not happened and the repercussion was minimal. Nevertheless, at that moment Obi-Wan had never been happier to be an orphan. It had been easy to imagine the panic that parents would have likely felt about him being involved with a man almost twenty years older.
But after Qui-Gon’s death, all Obi-Wan had wanted were parents. Or just a parent. Some family member to ground him, to steady him after the accident. But there had been no one. There weren’t even friends, at least not ones that Obi-Wan could count on at the time.
He had hated the things said behind their backs because despite what Qui-Gon would say, Obi-Wan knew that the comments hurt, that the accusations had been harmful no matter how well Qui-Gon had presented himself.
Oh what Obi-Wan wouldn’t give to hear those nasty comments again though, to get those queer looks, and to see people rudely avoid them. If it meant that Qui-Gon hadn’t died then he would have taken it all back.
Instead, it was ironically Qui-Gon’s death that had made it finally click with people. That it hadn’t been a phase or part of a midlife crisis or that Obi-Wan had been after the money or any of the other ridiculous theories. It was only after the accident that people seemed to realize, “Oh, it had been real.”
The dreams-no nightmares-had been the worst part of it. They had ebbed away now that he’d come to terms with the event but they were still there.
He couldn’t watch movies either. That was another thing that had been taken away. The happy ones were just a bunch of lies and he wouldn’t risk watching another genre on the off chance of there being an over the top death scene. He’d always thought those to be unrealistic. Obi-Wan had found out instead that they were very real but did not bring closure like the movies said.
It had been a car accident. If it had been something simple, like a drunk driver or perhaps Obi-Wan had distracted Qui-Gon and caused him to crash, something stereotypical like that would have been easier. He had often figured the entire thing would have been over a lot quicker as well. Perhaps he would have gotten lucky and left the world at the same time as Qui-Gon. Or at least he might have had the luck of being knocked out and absent for the rest of the crash.
Instead, as they had driven back to Qui-Gon’s flat, by that time it had become there’s, a little girl’s drawing had fluttered off with a strong gust of wind. The girl had run into the street and a car had swerved to avoid her. It had gone into the opposite lane and t-boned another car. The vehicle behind that one had been driving to close and crashed and a truck that had been behind it had tried to stop.
The suddenness of it all had caused the poorly tied down pipes on the truck to come loose. As Qui-Gon had slammed his foot on the break, several pipes had come loose and a particular one cut through the front windshield, skewering Qui-Gon right in front of him.
Obi-Wan remembered how the shock hadn’t hit him all at once. The feeling had been closer to slowly being submerged in ice cold water. His movements had grown less frantic, his voice had become softer as he had realized there was nothing to be done. He remembered the blood that had blossomed forth, the way Qui-Gon had tried to hold on despite the fact that it had all been pointless. No one had come in time and even if they had, the doctors had said it was unlikely he would have made it.
With all that in mind, even now Obi-Wan couldn’t find solace in Qui-Gon’s last words. There was no relief in knowing that he had said, “I love you” and “be happy” right before he went. It only hurt more because Obi-Wan knew he had died in pain, not quick and merciful like the man had deserved. He had died with a pole through his stomach as blood filled his lungs and stomach acid dripped into his muscles and tissue. He’d died with tears in eyes and blood on his lip and one hand in Obi-Wan’s and it didn’t make it any better.
It just made it worse.
And now Obi-Wan stood where he had first seen Qui-Gon only a year after his death. There was probably something poetic in that. Qui-Gon had been so excited to see Obi-Wan’s first lecture, to see him in his first job. He had been willing to move anywhere. In fact, he had liked the idea of seeing a different part of the world and Obi-Wan could still remember sitting down with the man, looking over maps and books and all the possibilities before them.
But it was all gone and Obi-Wan was alone at the podium.
Brought back into the present, one of his hands came up to slowly run along his jaw line where a thick beard had grown. He had wanted Qui-Gon’s opinion, to see if he’d nod approvingly at the end result or laugh that quiet, soft laugh he had.
All this caused Obi-Wan to wonder if saying yes to the offer had been a bad idea, to lecture at Trinity College. Perhaps he wasn’t over Qui-Gon’s death like he’d thought. After all, he’d all but ran from Northern Ireland after that and with nothing in Scotland for him, he had floated through Wales until the lecture and temporary teaching position had popped up at Oxford.
It just wasn’t fair, a thought that Obi-Wan hated because it made him sound like a child again but it was so true. None of it was fair.
On the verge of tears with all of his weight resting on the podium, the only thing that kept Obi-Wan from crumbling then and there was a noise. His head immediately up and his entire body on edge, Obi-Wan closed off mentally and physically as his eyes focused on the only other figure in the room.
The look of the young man almost gave Obi-Wan a heart attack. His first thought was that he’d gone crazy and that he really was seeing a younger version of himself. However, after staring for a time that probably wasn’t appropriate, he realized that the face structure was wrong and the cloths a little more rebellious than anything Obi-Wan would have worn at that age. Really, it had been the haircut and complexion that had caused his mind to jump to the wild conclusion. And the eye color, blue-green just like his own.
Obi-Wan only realized how long and how awkward it must have been for the young man, boy really, as he was fairly certain he hadn’t blinked once. Obi-Wan did so and the boy finally relaxed without the unflinching stare on him.
The boy snorted, looked around, and then turned his gaze back to Obi-Wan. A rather arrogant and amused look came across his face as his mouth turned into a smirk and his eyes crinkled in laughter.
“You’re the teacher?” the boy asked with a laugh. “What are you? Five seconds older than me?”