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Soulmates are a little different for Jedi, who almost always have soulmates, though the galaxy doesn’t necessarily realize it. The Jedi already form bonds naturally with each other, even if they’re not soulmate bonds. They can balance it with their duties, because the person they are matched to will accept it, will accept everything about them, will keep them from getting lost in the currents of the Force. Typically the soulmate is another Jedi, but not always. They’re quiet about it, nothing jumping out to identify a pair, just a lingering touch, maybe, or the way their eyes will smile when they meet across a room. It’s clear when someone has found their bond, Obi-Wan can always tell anyway, the way a Jedi feels a little more settled, looks a little more alert, at peace.
Obi-Wan knows it started for him, the wanting, when he researched his birth planet and discovered the meaning behind his name. No one of no family. It carved a piece of him away, and he’d curled up under the table in the archives, wanting, hoping that maybe he’d have a soulmate. He holds onto that hope when he’s rejected by Master after Master, when he’s sent away and enslaved on Bandomeer, when he’s exiled from Melida/Daan and shown time and time again that he’s not wanted. A soulmate, he thinks, a perfect match, someone made just for him, who will love him for who he is, and who he will love in return—he hopes for it. Someone he could cross a galaxy to find. Who would cross a galaxy to find him.
Soulmates just happen for some people, though not everyone. No one quite knows how it works, or doesn’t work. How the relationship will unfold, once they connect. It can happen right away, or after years. It often happens when a Jedi is nearing knighthood, they find their match, souls reaching to find each other, to anchor one another. Obi-Wan doesn’t care how it happens. He just wants it to happen for him. He knows he’s not supposed to want it the way he does, but he can’t stop himself, once it starts.
And then Obi-Wan lands on Mandalore, a planet on the brink of Civil War. He’s a guest of the New Mandalorians but when he and Master Jinn walk into the negotiations, he feels it. He feels his soul reaching for a soul he is supposed to know, he feels the hope shine through, the joy—his heart beating fast, eyes searching, finding, knowing—
And then when his heart pulls him right to the Mandalorian in the middle of it all, the one standing on the True Mandalorian side, head tilted, curious, when he finds the other half of his soul, reaching out, trying to connect, and there is nothing, he is anchorless—
He tucks his traitorous heart away, soothes his mourning soul and thinks, I should have known better.
Obi-Wan’s soulmate is named Jango Fett, and he’s taciturn and stoic, but Obi-Wan sees him joke around with his Pantoran friend Myles, sees him roll his eyes at his medic Mij. He’s wary of the Jedi, has been since Galidraan, when the Jedi and the True Mandalorians nearly killed each other, until one of the Jedi found their soulmate among the Mandalorians and it stopped everything long enough for them to figure out they’d all been lied to.
Jango is kind, too, when he realizes what is happening, when he reaches out to touch Obi-Wan and pulls his hand back, grimacing. He’s apologetic and regretful and it’s not his fault that Obi-Wan wants to collapse into his arms. That Obi-Wan knows he’s found his person, but his soul is broken somehow, has landed incorrectly. The string stretches out into the abyss, snapping helplessly, but Obi-Wan is a Jedi, and he has to follow the mission, so he pulls himself together before the rest of the True Mandalorians arrive.
Patience, the Force tells him, and for the first time, Obi-Wan has trouble believing it.
He spends a month standing behind his Master at the negotiating table, listening as Jango tries to find an accord with Satine Kryze’s New Mandalorians. Obi-Wan watches as he checks in with his people, fiercely defends their way of life, finds ways to work things out so they can have an alliance against the rising threat of Death Watch.
He holds on to the string in his heart, trying to keep his mind focused on the here and now, trying not to drift away, following the link until it leads him into a void.
The night before Obi-Wan leaves with Master Jinn, Jango finds him in a small garden and sits with him. “I wish there was something I could do to make this better,” Jango says.
It’s the last blow his bruised heart can take, and he folds into himself, heaving a sob into his knees. Jango rests a hand on his back and then curls him in, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. And it’s a beautiful gift, for all he knows it means nothing to Jango. That he’ll leave the next morning, the string stretching over space and time, holding fast in a knot behind his heart, and Jango will move on. He has an entire system to worry about; Obi-Wan can’t begrudge him that.
He cries himself dry, right there in Jango’s arms, and Jango never once tries to pull away. Obi-Wan builds a little shield around his soul. He’ll figure it out, how not to drift away, and Jango gets to live, his people get to live, and if the only cost of that is Obi-Wan’s heart, it’s not much of a sacrifice at all.
Years later, Obi-Wan has gotten quite good at ignoring the little knot, the little pull. Once in a while, it feels closer, like they are in the same sector, but he doesn’t chase the feeling, doesn’t try to explore it. It’s just there, letting him know that Jango is alive, somewhere in the galaxy. He’d done a brief bit of research, when he came back, learning about one-way bonds. He’s not the only one, but it’s not exactly common, either. Unless, like him, one-ways just don’t talk about it. He certainly doesn’t tell anyone, save for Quinlan. It’s not important enough to tell the Council, that’s for sure.
And if—being one-way, anchorless—if that sends Obi-Wan drifting into the Force sometimes, if he meditates and can’t find his way back, well. He figures out ways, as he grows, to stop the searching, to slow the drifting. He is a Jedi. Jedi almost always have soulmates, even if the link is broken, and he can overcome this loss like he’s overcome everything else.
He is knighted after he kills the Sith on Naboo, after Master Qui-Gon is seriously wounded and he delivers Anakin Skywalker to the creche to begin his Jedi education and possible Padawanship. The knighting is a quiet affair, with Qui-Gon still in the Halls of Healing, and Master Windu cuts his braid, solemn. Obi-Wan will always appreciate the chance Qui-Gon gave him, their time together, but he’s not surprised it ended the way it had. That in the end, Qui-Gon, who’d never truly wanted him to begin with, was so quick to pass him aside.
He’s several missions into his knighthood when he gets an urgent missive from the Council, instructing him to turn around immediately. It’s alarming in its irregularity, but he’d just embarked, and it doesn’t take too long for him to be back in the center of the Council chambers. The only information they have is that it’s something to do with a past mission, someone who is in dire straits and needs him, specifically. He’s never been specifically needed before, so he’s standing, waiting for them to begin, watching the concern play across the face of Master Windu—it’s hard, sometimes, to remember to call him Mace—and drifting, just a bit, when a holoprojection shimmers into view.
Obi-Wan jerks back for a moment. It’s a Mandalorian, who takes off his helmet. “Obi-Wan?” the Mandalorian asks. It’s the Pantoran from years ago, Myles.
Obi-Wan bows. “Myles,” he says, flicking another glance at the council members. “What is it?”
Myles glances at someone offscreen, and turns back to Obi-Wan. “Is he alive?” he asks.
There’s a flare of surprise from the normally very controlled Jedi Council, but Obi-Wan doesn’t pretend not to know what Myles is asking. He closes his eyes, reaching for the painful little knot of thread, where his reaching soul is. He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Yes,” he says, feeling it stretch along into the vast reaches of space.
Myles exhales, shoulder slumping.
“Myles, what happened?” Obi-Wan asks. Murmurs from the Council.
“Does it, I know it’s one-way, but does it work where—”
“Yes,” Obi-Wan says again. “I can feel if he’s close. I’m quite far, now. But what happened.”
“Jango’s been taken,” Myles says, and Obi-Wan’s world narrows, the breath leaving him. Myles turns, facing the rest of the Council as well. “Please. I know it’s unorthodox. Our people don’t always get along, but—”
“Jango Fett, the Mand’alor?” Mace asks, eyes narrowing on Obi-Wan.
“Yes,” Myles says. “He stopped transmitting in Wild Space two years ago. Someone was sending false messages back to us. We got suspicious and tried a coded phrase and we’ve been looking for him for more than a year, now, with no luck and no leads. We thought maybe—”
“To you, Knight Kenobi will go,” Yoda says. “If willing, he is.”
Obi-Wan’s just glad enough to get permission before he has to decide to leave without it. Jango means everything to Obi-Wan, even though Jango has likely forgotten him. “Of course,” he says. “As soon as I can get to you—”
“We’ll pick you up,” Myles says. “Vor entye.”
Two years, Jango has been missing. If Obi-Wan hadn’t been broken, he might have been able to tell something was wrong. Obi-Wan’s heart tugs and he closes his eyes, envisioning the bond like a rope, one he can follow. “I will be ready,” he says.
Myles seems sure of Obi-Wan’s abilities, but the other Mandalorians aboard the ship don’t share his confidence. “Are we sure this jetii is going to be able to help? Jango doesn’t have a soulmate.” It’s a Mandalorian he doesn’t recognize.
“It’s a one-way,” Obi-Wan says, smooth, heart cracking at the reminder. “It’s harder to find someone this way, but not impossible. I will do my best. He is alive.”
“He never said anything about it,” another one says.
“He told me,” Myles says.
“And me,” another says, in striking gold armor. “Didn’t want to broadcast it.”
“He didn’t have to come, Kal,” Myles says. “Let me show you to your quarters.”
Obi-Wan feels the hostility and disbelief from a few of them, the hope from the rest including Mij Gilamar, the gold Mandalorian he remembers from so long ago. It’s a small squad, six commandos, but Obi-Wan keeps to himself anyway, meditating as they move through hyperspace, feeling the line grow clearer and clearer, updating Myles to adjust the coordinates. Myles visits and Mij bullies him into eating and resting but he’s otherwise left alone.
It settles him, a little, following the link, having this to focus on. It keeps him from drifting too far in his meditations knowing he has this purpose, even though the prospect of finding Jango in the vast galaxy is so daunting.
It’s slow going, having to leave hyperspace and correct their course, and Obi-Wan can’t be too precise, not with the bond only one-way. He can feel it working, checks all along to make sure Jango is still alive but he tries until finally, he can see something in his mind, feel a place, and he goes out to the navicomputer, pointing at an empty spot on the star map.
“That’s nothing,” Vau says. “We come out there, we’ll be sitting in empty space.”
“It’s where he is,” Obi-Wan says.
“What else do we have?” Myles asks, and claps Obi-Wan on the back, radiating relief.
It’s a water planet, and they stay in orbit, trying to figure out what it is and where they are so they know what they’re getting into. Jango is there, Obi-Wan can feel it, and he calls the Temple to check the archives. Madame Nu herself calls him back, her pinched mouth the only sign Obi-Wan can see that something is very, very wrong.
“A planet has been deleted from the archives,” she tells him. “But I was able to restore the record. It’s Kamino. They are scientists. I will continue to restore the records and transmit what we have.”
“Scientists?” Skirata asks. “Jan’ika got kidnapped by scientists?”
Obi-Wan closes his eyes, feels the currents of the Force. “There’s something more to it. We should tread carefully.”
“We?” Myles asks, hopeful.
Obi-Wan curls a smile at him. “You’re not planning to leave me behind, I hope. Besides, I’m very good at getting into places.”
“Should be, with that smile,” Skirata mutters. “Ow,” he adds, rubbing his chest and kicking at Vau.
Obi-Wan is very good at charming his way past locked doors, but even he’s not expecting the long-necked Kaminoan to welcome him in so graciously.
“We weren’t expecting you so early, master Jedi,” Taun We says. “Are you here for an update on the progress of your order?”
Obi-Wan can feel the shock and sudden mistrust coming from the Mandalorians around him, but he just smiles, face placid. “We thought it best,” he says.
“Your order,” Vau hisses, as they walk behind Taun We. “If your jetiise are behind this—”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Obi-Wan says.
“We have had some limited success so far,” Taun We says, oblivious.
Obi-Wan pauses, following the thread to Jango, feeling it get closer, around a corner opposite from the direction Taun We takes them. He motions to Mij, who nods, communicating with the others and he and Myles peel off to join him as he slips around the corner while the others flow up to flank Taun We a little closer.
Obi-Wan stops when a completely different presence flares into his awareness, standing in front of a door. It’s a small child standing there, perhaps five standard years old, standing at attention, watching them with wary eyes. Obi-Wan examines his stance, shuddering, dragging his mind back to the present. “Hello there,” he says, and sees the child’s eyes flare in surprise. Jango’s behind the door. He can feel the tug, more prominent now that he’s so close, and has been using it so much.
“We heard a Jedi landed,” the child says. “Are you the Jedi?”
“I am a Jedi, young one,” Obi-Wan says.
“That looks like a baby Jango,” Myles says, sounding strangled. “Did they, did they turn him small?”
“It’s not Jango,” Obi-Wan says. “Will you tell us your name?”
“Cadet CC-2224,” the child says. “Command class.”
Obi-Wan feels nauseous, is his name a string of numbers? “Command class?” he asks. “How many of you are there?”
“Ten in my batch,” the child says. “There will be more for the army soon enough. We are learning about the Jedi.”
“Ten ade,” Myles says.
Obi-Wan feels sick, but this is too much for him to process, not when he can feel the tug to Jango, pulling him closer and closer. “Youngling,” he says. “We’re looking for Jango Fett. Is he in that room?”
The child nods. “The Prime,” he says.
“Prime?” Obi-Wan asks, trying to keep his voice mild.
“We all come from him,” the child says.
Obi-Wan can feel the shock from the Mandalorians beside him, knows they’re communicating over their internal comms.
“He’s sleeping,” the child says. “He’s sleeping a lot. But sometimes I go in through the vents to see him when he is awake, or to check on the baby.”
“The baby,” Mij asks, flat.
The child straightens up. “We protect Boba, just like we will protect the Jedi,” he says, and looks at Obi-Wan. “I know you.”
“Obi-Wan,” Myles murmurs. “We’ve got incoming.”
The child flinches, then straightens out his face and goes back to standing rigidly as Taun We approaches.
“Cadet CC-2224,” Taun We says. “You are not in your assigned area.” Vau and Skirata are behind her, radiating fury. Obi-Wan feels the same. “If you do not return to your assigned area—”
Obi-Wan bends down, picking the child up. That flinch, and the child’s bleeding fear in the Force, tells him what he needs to know, more than anything else. “He’s where he’s supposed to be,” he says. “I’d like to see what’s in this room.”
Obi-Wan feels the child squeeze his shoulder. “The door is always locked,” he whispers. “Both ways.”
“This is highly irregular. I’d be happy to introduce you to the donor at an appropriate time,” Taun We says.
“I’m afraid I’m rather in a rush,” Obi-Wan says. “I’d like you to open the door.” Taun We hesitates, so Obi-Wan blows the keypad with the Force.
And there he is, lying in a bed, sleeping as the child had said, every bit as handsome as he’d been all those years ago, even connected to tubing and wires. Obi-Wan’s soul yearns for him, he feels his heart skip a beat, reaching out, but as it was the last time he saw Jango, he’s met with nothing. He turns his attention back to the child in his arms, looking him over, keeping himself focused.
Mij strides to the bed. “He’s sedated,” he says, low and furious.
Myles has crouched next to a child that looks about two standard, playing under the watchful eye of a nanny droid. “That’s Boba,” the child in Obi-Wan’s arms says. “He’s the special one.”
“You’re special as well, young one,” Obi-Wan whispers, and feels the child’s arms tighten around his neck.
“My name is Cody,” the child whispers into his ear, and Obi-Wan feels his heart ease, just a little bit.
“You called him a donor,” Obi-Wan says. “Is Jango Fett here of his own free will?”
Taun We pauses. “He experiences confusion,” she says. “It is why we have been so delayed in our production. But recent advancements will allow us to—”
Obi-Wan holds up a hand, both to stop Taun We from speaking and the Mandalorians from killing her. She might have more information. “Is there a comms tower somewhere? I believe I need to update the Jedi Council.”
The Council immediately sends a contingent of Jedi to investigate the facility. It’s troubling that the Kaminoans keep insisting the clones were created for the Jedi. They are in the very early experimental stages, with Cody’s group being a sort of test. Obi-Wan stays long enough to greet them, Cody at his heels the way he’s been for days.
Cody is stoic when Obi-Wan explains that he’ll be heading back to Coruscant, that the Mandalorians will be taking Jango and all the children to Mandalore, where they will figure out how to slow the accelerated growth—though the Jedi have promised to help—and get them into homes so they can be children. “I need to watch your back,” Cody insists.
Obi-Wan crouches down to him. “I need you to keep an eye on Mij and Myles for me, can you do that? And report back on their behavior. And take very good care of Jango for me. I am sure we will meet again, young one.”
Cody nods, serious as ever, and backs up into Myles, who puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. “You should stay, Obi-Wan,” Myles says, soft. “At least until Jango wakes up.”
“He doesn’t want to see me,” Obi-Wan says. “He’ll have so much recovery to do, Myles. He’s been held captive here for years. He doesn’t need me to complicate things, and I mean nothing to him anyway.”
“Obi-Wan,” Myles tries again.
“I can’t, Myles,” Obi-Wan says, and he glances at Cody, who is taking it all in. “Please respect that.” Myles nods.
Obi-Wan does go see a still-sleeping Jango, before he leaves. He can’t help himself, and he knows he has to make this last, because if he sees Jango again, he’s not sure he’ll be able to pull himself away a third time, and that’s not fair to Jango. It’s already not fair to be here, to wish Jango would wake up, hold him one more time like he did on Mandalore. He closes his eyes, lets his heart reach, his malfunctioning soul follow the thread, tugging uselessly the way it has since Mandalore. Obi-Wan takes a deep breath, opening his eyes. It will have to be enough.
Obi-Wan’s knee deep in the archives, researching money trails and missing planets, when his comm beeps with a text message from a number he doesn’t recognize.
I’m back on Mandalore.
Obi-Wan feels his heart swoop behind his ribs, but he can’t bring himself to respond, instead feeling along the length of the bond to get a sense of the scope, the distance between them. His comm chimes again.
Vor entye.
He doesn’t know what to say to that either, so he sets it aside, going back to his research.
In the following weeks, the messages keep coming. Every few days, perhaps. Maybe once or so a week. They range in scope, from innocuous comments about weather to ones that make Obi-Wan need to take several deep, meditative breaths, like an observation about something he’d missed while being held by the Kaminoans. Occasionally, he receives holo images, like the outside of a building, or one of Boba. Once in a while one sends him drifting, coasting through space until he draws himself back in hours later. The gaps have gotten worse, so Obi-Wan adds another of mediation to his schedule each day, tries to find time to be with other Jedi so he at least has something.
Obi-Wan doesn’t respond to any of them as he continues to untangle the mystery, but he can’t stop checking along the length of the bond once he’s started, making sure Jango remains in the same spot, hoping he’s recovering. Jango had been lured to Wild Space for a bounty and information, and then been held captive by the Kaminoans, who seemed to be under the impression that he’d been hired, no matter what he tried to explain. Obi-Wan’s not the one to get this kind of information, of course. He’s trying to follow the money, which had come from an outside source but twisted through Jedi accounts. It’s enough to make his head spin.
He’s taking a break, meditating, when he gets another comm, this one a holo image of Boba with another clone. His breath hitches. Is that Cody? He writes, before he can stop himself.
The reply is almost instant, three in succession. Yes.
Hello.
If these messages bother you, I can stop.
Obi-Wan taps the comm against his leg before he answers again. Don’t stop, he writes.
Time passes this way, Jango sending messages, Obi-Wan occasionally responding. Jango stays on Mandalore, as best as Obi-Wan can tell, and doesn’t seem to mind when Obi-Wan is quiet. Some days the knot behind his ribs hurts too much to say anything, but Jango has a good sense of humor, is self-deprecating and appreciative. The conversations ease it into something almost friendly, and it still hurts, being a one-way, but it’s easier than he thought it would be, being in contact. It’s not an anchor, not exactly, but the drifting slows, the more he engages.
Jango tells him about Boba, and Cody, and the other clones, how they are sticking together but slowly finding families of their own. They’ve halted the accelerated aging, and Cody and the others are now aging naturally as Boba. It’s the best news Obi-Wan has had yet, and he feels tears rise to his eyes at the thought that Cody can be a chid.
One day, nearly a year into their messages, Obi-Wan’s comm vibrates with a voice call. He stares at it for a moment, unsure whether to answer, but in the end, he can’t stop himself.
“Hello,” he says.
“Su’cuy,” Jango says. Obi-Wan’s heart beats fast, a thrumming behind his ribs, and he inhales a quick breath. “Are you all right? Is it all right that I commed you? I should have asked.”
He feels like he’s right back on Mandalore, and he swallows. “It’s all right,” he says, soft. He feels along the bond, hopelessly fluttering. Jango’s still on Mandalore.
“I’m thinking of asking Cod’ika about adoption,” Jango says.
Obi-Wan’s heart skips again. “Oh,” he says. “That would be wonderful, Jango.”
“You think?” Jango asks.
Obi-Wan closes his eyes. He can almost see Jango, pacing, worrying about taking this step. “I do. I think he would be an incredible older brother for Boba.”
He can’t sense Jango’s feelings in the bond, thank the Force, but he can hear it, how excited he is, how proud and ready. Obi-Wan feels around the bond again. His heart thumps faster. He’d only known Cody for a few days, but he's so happy for him, the child who thought he wasn’t special, that he was meant to protect Obi-Wan.
It occurs to Obi-Wan, as they speak, that somehow, he and Jango are friends. That despite Obi-Wan's reticence, Jango has met him along the way, and while he knows it was easier to shove the bond aside, to hide it away—that doesn’t necessarily mean it was better. He’d spent all this time thinking Jango wouldn’t want to know him, and it turns out, Jango does. He feels along that thread as Jango speaks and Force, does he love him.
“I’m going to pick up Cody,” Jango says. “I’ll let you know how it goes. And, Obi-Wan—” Jango pauses, and Obi-Wan’s heart yearns, pulls, at the sound of his name from Jango’s mouth. “Thank you for listening. I’m sorry this is—I wish I could fix it. If I’m ever bothering you—”
“Thank you, Jango,” Obi-Wan says. “I’m—it’s okay. You’re never a bother. Say hello to Cody for me, would you?”
Cody says he’s not ready, Jango’s message says.
Obi-Wan feels a chill wash over him.
Is this how you felt, when it was me?
Obi-Wan loses his breath for a moment, feels along the thread.
I’m sorry. That was inappropriate.
Not ready isn’t no, Jango. I know it hurts. Just give him some more time.
Jango is quiet for a day or so, and then sends another message that guts Obi-Wan.
Cody is missing.
Jango’s not sure what happened—he tells Obi-Wan that he’d dropped Cody back off in foundling housing he and the clones stayed in together, the ones who weren’t living with families. Cody hadn’t shown up for his lessons the next morning, and no one could find him. Obi-Wan pulls on the thread, wishes he could somehow help, comfort Jango, but short of going to Mandalore—
Cody could be anywhere, is the problem. He could be hiding, or he could have been taken, and the possibilities swirl around in his mind, and he sits in the middle of his quarters and just breathes, listening to the Force. Patience, it tells him.
I’m here if you need me, he says to Jango.
Obi-Wan is so very tired of being patient.
It’s just past latemeal when Obi-Wan gets a comm from Mace, asking him to stop by his quarters. His heart sinks, and he presses along the bond, but Jango seems to be in the same location he’s been for the last year, on Mandalore. He hasn’t spoken to him in a few days, except to receive a few terse updates that they have no new leads on Cody, not even a sighting.
Which makes sense, Obi-Wan supposes as Mace opens the door, because Cody is here.
Plo is sitting right on the floor with Cody, but as soon as Obi-Wan enters, Cody jumps up, melting against his side.
Obi-Wan’s hand goes around him automatically. “Cody? What are you doing here? Jango is beside himself.”
“The Temple Guards spotted him outside,” Mace says. “Brought him here. But he’s been asking for you.”
“Prime wanted to adopt me,” Cody says.
“I heard,” Obi-Wan says. “I thought you’d be very excited.”
“I like Prime,” Cody says, “but I am supposed to be watching your back.”
Mace is giving Obi-Wan a reproachful look. He’d made Obi-Wan explain everything about Jango and the one-way bond, concerned that Obi-Wan had been dealing with it alone for so long, and now this.
“Cody, that’s not your job, young one,” Obi-Wan says.
“It is,” Cody says. “You were going to be my Jedi, when I completed my training. You need someone who will look out for you.”
Plo Koon, still seated serenely on the floor, chuckles.
“All right, we’ll figure this out,” Obi-Wan says. “I’ll call Jango. He’s been so worried about you.”
“He thinks you left Kamino because you’re not his soulmate,” Cody says. Obi-Wan grimaces. “But he talks about you all the time.”
Obi-Wan, almost as a reflex, runs his mind along the bond, finding it unchanged, even as his traitorous heart beats a little in hope, still reaching. He picks Cody up, rubbing a hand along his back, as Mace clears his throat.
“If you need us to handle this,” Mace starts.
Obi-Wan shakes his head, pulling out his comm. “I’ll comm him. But I would rather do it with you here, if that’s all right.” Jango will want to see Cody, he knows, and Obi-Wan’s not quite sure he can see his face without support.
Jango picks up almost immediately, looking haggard, eyes focused somewhere else. “Su’cuy,” he says. “Are you all right?”
“Well, I believe we may have found something you’re looking for,” Obi-Wan says. He loses his focus for a moment when Jango’s face appears on screen, and Mace slides into his space, a strong hand on his shoulder, reassurance in the Force.
Jango’s eyes dart over, seeing Cody. He presses a fist to one of his eyes. “Cod’ika. How did you—”
“I’m sorry, Prime,” Cody says. “I’m okay. I just couldn’t get adopted without Obi-Wan.”
Obi-Wan fails to bite back a noise, and Jango’s gaze cuts to him. “If you want to send someone—”
“I’ll come,” Jango says. “We’ll have a conversation, Cod’ika. No one wants to make you do anything you don’t want to do, but we need to talk about it, not just run away.” His tone is gentle, but firm, and the little knot behind Obi-Wan’s heart tugs.
“I didn’t run away,” Cody says, stubborn. “I needed to come to the Temple.”
“We’ll also have a conversation about how that happened,” Jango mutters. He’s moving around, tossing things into a pack. “Thank you for letting me know he was safe,” Jango says. “I’ll let you know when I leave.”
“You won’t have to,” Obi-Wan mumbles when he’s cut the call, covering his face with his hands.
Obi-Wan hardly drifts at all in the days it takes for Jango to come to the Temple. He can feel him, drawing ever closer, his hopeful soul pressing along the thread of the bond like it’s the one reeling Jango in. Cody spends time with Obi-Wan, but also in the creche. He very stubbornly won’t talk any more about his self-assigned mission or why he wouldn’t let Jango adopt him.
Obi-Wan can feel it when Jango enters the Core, and then when he’s over Coruscant space, and then again when he’s at the Temple, walking through the doors. He’s sitting in his quarters with Cody, feeling Jango get closer and closer and then, the door chimes.
Cody stares at Obi-Wan, who is taking deep, steadying breaths, wishing that maybe he had taken up Mace on his offer to be here. If the holo call had been hard, this is going to be harder. Obi-Wan stands, and Cody presses to him, tight on his heels like he was on Kamino, and Obi-Wan opens the door. “Hello, Jango,” he says, gesturing him in.
Obi-Wan can’t help smiling when he sees Jango, less hollowed out than he’d looked on Kamino, sturdy and travel worn, and Jango’s eyes are on Cody first, checking to see if he’s all right before he looks over at Obi-Wan with his own relieved smile. “Su’cuy,” Jango says, and meets his eyes.
It’s just like it was on Mandalore, Obi-Wan’s soul reaching out, stretching across to meet Jango’s—but this time, he finds Jango on the other side, feels Jango’s soul reaching out too, feels himself anchor, steady. His soul swells with joy and he feels Jango’s across from him, elation and relief and happiness.
“Jango?” Obi-Wan asks, whispering. He clutches his hand over his heart, as if that will slow it down, stop it. It doesn’t make sense, he’s a one-way—
“I feel you,” Jango says. “The thread—you’re here—” he rests his own hand over his heart.
“I don’t understand,” Obi-Wan says, taking a stumbling step back, nearly tripping over Cody. For years, his reality has been this, his soul alone, drifting, threading a line to nowhere and now—
“I’m your soulmate,” Jango says. “And you’re mine. It just took me some time to catch up. I’m sorry, cyar’ika.”
“I thought I was broken,” Obi-Wan says, and there’s a small hand in his, guiding him to the couch. Jango sits next to him, not touching.
“You’re not,” Jango says. “You never were. I’m here now. It’s all right.” Cody clears his throat. “Cod’ika kept telling me I should come here to visit, and I told him it wasn’t a good idea.”
Obi-Wan looks at Cody, who’s looking rather smug, all things considered. “I’m sorry, buir,” Cody says, and Jango makes a strangled sound. “I couldn’t let you adopt me until we had Obi-Wan, too.” He slides off the couch, heading for the door. “I am going to visit the creche,” he says, smiling.
Obi-Wan stares after him, jaw dropped, until Jango rests a hand on his cheek, turning his head back so they’re facing each other. Obi-Wan leans in, pressing his forehead against Jango’s. “You’re here,” he says, pressing a hand against his heart, feeling the line lead right to Jango.
Jango leans forward, tangling their other hands together. “I’m right here,” he promises, brushing his thumb on Obi-Wan’s cheek. “Can I—”
Obi-Wan doesn’t let him ask, he just presses his lips up to Jango’s, easing against him, feeling the joy in his soul mirrored by the joy in Jango’s, the Force swirling around him, strong and steady. He pulls away. “Cody set us up,” he says.
Jango’s thumb brushes the tear away from Obi-Wan’s eye. “He’s going to give us trouble,” he says, grinning. “Mhi ba'juri verde.”
Us, Obi-Wan thinks, and kisses him again, wrapping Jango’s soul in his.