Dread

by Ruth Gifford (lady_volumna@yahoo.com)

Archive: Yes to MA

Rating: PG-13 for language and one kiss

Pairing: Q/O, O/other

Spoilers: None

Summary: Obi-Wan makes a decision that has long-reaching consequences -- a response to the "Plot Bunny" challenge on TMI

Notes: As stated above this is a challenge story. Part of the challenge was that the story was to be un-beta'd. I did my best, but I'm sure I missed stuff. Sorry. And anyway I know that one of my lovely beta readers doesn't like this particular plot line. Sorry again. The name of the headline act is a nod to Lee Writestuff's story "Cold Feet."

indicates thought and
indicates telepathy

Ambiance: Concrete Blonde -- Walking in London

For Emu for her ideas, all of them. Well maybe not the Gungan smut.

I dread telling him.

How can I go to the man I loved, and tell him that I am now bonded to another? And yet, how could I go to him and tell him that another had died when I could have saved a life? I know now why we must take such great care in our relationships, for, as long as I have been a Jedi, I have never been presented with such a dilemma as I am presented with now.

I pace the Healer's Halls impatiently. I should be the serene picture of a Jedi, but I cannot find serenity now. If there is no serenity, is there passion? Do I feel passion? I don't know. I suppose I do. I should temper my passion, but then that is what got me into this in the first place.

But I ramble.

I sit, looking through the plasteel and remember . . .

"Obi!"

"Over here, Bant." Obi-Wan looked up from his lunch and waved a hand. Catching sight of him, Bant hurried through the Padawan's Lounge and almost skidded to a stop near her friend.

"I got permission! I was sure she wouldn't let me go, but . . ."

"You did? That's great! That makes five of us."

"Bruck said he had six tickets for the concert. Do you want to ask . . ." Her voice trailed off as Obi-Wan laughed.

"Oh yes, I'm sure Qui-Gon would love to go listen to the Slash Grrrls at Club Upside." Obi-Wan shook his head as Bant began to laugh as well.

"What's so funny that it keeps you from lunch?" a mournful voice asked. "And if you're not going to finish it . . ."

"Get your own lunch. Gods, Reeft, with friends like you, a guy could starve." Obi-Wan dodged the mock punch his friend threw at him and then relented and gave Reeft half of one of his sandwiches. "Bant was suggesting I ask my Master to go with us tonight."

Reeft snorted and then cleared his throat. "Don't do that to me when I have a mouthful."

"Please," Bant teased. "No one would ever get a word in edgewise if we all waited for you to eat."

"Hey! I don't eat as much as I used . . ."

Obi-Wan tuned them out. Master?

Yes, Padawan?

Are you sure you don't mind my going out tonight?

Do you need me to object, Obi-Wan?

Well, no, but . . .

Love, off time with your friends is as important as spending time with me. Before Obi-Wan could protest that nothing was as important as spending time with his lover, Qui-Gon added, besides that, Mace and M'Bast are coming for dinner and M wants to discuss her Senior Philosophy syllabus with us. I'd have to banish you anyway.

Oh. Well then, when you put it that way. He projected mock hurt. I know when I'm not wanted. I'll just slink off then and . . .

Obi-Wan?

Yes, Master?

Have a good time.

I will.

"Sad, isn't it?"

"What?" Obi-Wan blinked and looked at the newcomer.

"I said it's sad to see one of the Jedi's finest minds go all mushy and soft like that."

"Bite me, Bruck."

"Looks like someone else got there first."

There was laughter and Obi-Wan couldn't help joining in as he tugged at the neck of his inner tunic. "At least someone bothers, Chun."

"I'd bite you," Reeft offered the startled Bruck. "But only if I was really hungry."

There was more laughter and a scuffle as Bruck dived for Reeft's sandwich. "And to think," Obi-Wan muttered to Bant, "I could have spent my evening in less sophisticated company, eavesdropping to know the topics in Senior Phil."

"Sophisticated," Bant replied, grabbing the sandwich out of Reeft's hand and calmly taking a bite. "Suave and debonair, that's us." She handed the sandwich to Bruck as Obi-Wan once again laughed.

Sometimes, he reflected, it was good to act like any other 19-year-old. Or even, he thought, as he tossed another half sandwich to Reeft, like a 12-year-old.

I should have known, of course. But if I had, would I have stayed home? Prescience is a damnable thing. I've studied with Yoda and there are times, fairly often, to be honest, when I wish I were as grounded in the Living Force as Master wishes I was. The Unifying Force is all well and good; it makes me the fighter that I am, gives me the ability to pilot with the best of them and enables me to see the patterns in things, but it hurts to know possible futures.

I saw the patterns last night and now I see them again. If I had the skill of a Master, I probably would have seen them changing even as I made my choice. Could I have done otherwise? No. Second-guessing is all well and good, but at that moment, I could do nothing but what I did.

One of the club bouncers looked them over and shook his head. "Won't get any trouble from you lot then," he said with a grin.

"Stars, I get tired of that," Padawan Lisna Van muttered to Garen Muln as the five Jedi moved into the club. "Fucking harmless we are," she added. "First round is on me; I'm ready to forget being Jedi for the night."

Bruck rolled his eyes behind her back and Obi-Wan had to smile. Lisna was two years behind them and for all their foolishness earlier, the older Padawans knew that you could never forget being a Jedi. Then again, Obi-Wan thought as they moved toward the bar, the pretense was enjoyable.

"Here's to a night away from Master," Garen toasted. For a moment the other Padawans laughed and then they turned as one to Obi-Wan. "Oh, sorry, Obi."

"Gods, Muln," Obi-Wan said. "The man hasn't branded me or anything."

"Oh, hush, Obi," Bant said, sipping at something that produced smoke from under a little gay umbrella. "Admit it, you really wanted to spend the night in your room while Master Jinn, Master Windu and Master M'Bast talked philosophy."

"And here I envied you, Obi," Garen said. "Obi-Wan, I thought, now there's a lucky guy. In love with his Master and gets to hang with Councilors all the time."

"Just because you and your Master fight all the time," Obi-Wan said.

"Do you and Master Jinn ever fight?" Lisna asked. "I fought with Master all through last year." She sighed and put a long six-fingered hand to her chest. "I was working through my required crush."

"We fight and it can get pretty intense. Of course I never actually worked through my crush."

Lisna shook her head. "Looking back on it, I can't imagine wanting Master. I mean he's great and all, but still . . ."

"It's not easy," Obi-Wan said, wanting to change the subject. He'd covered all this ground with his close friends and the constant curiosity from other Padawans got tiresome.

"So," Bant asked quietly, forcing the others to listen to her, an actor's trick she'd picked up from her Master. "Who's the opening act?"

"Sweet Thang and Voyance," Bruck replied quickly. "Have you guys heard Voyance's stuff? They're definitely worth watching."

Obi-Wan let the flow of conversation go on without him for a moment. Of all his friends, the two who seemed to be the most attuned to him were Bant, which was no surprise, and Bruck, which was a bit of a surprise, given their early feelings toward each other.

He had pushed hard on Bruck's behalf, seeing a lot of himself in the other boy after Bruck fell prey to Xanatos' blandishments. It was Obi-Wan who had talked to Yoda himself on Bruck's behalf and it was Obi-Wan who had slowly convinced Bant to become friends with the very boy who'd tried to kill her. After Melida/Daan, Obi-Wan had felt that forgiveness was a virtue and he'd convinced Qui-Gon, who went on to convince a lot of others that Bruck deserved a chance.

Bruck, to do him credit, had managed to swallow his own resentfulness at the boy he'd teased and the Temple that had been ready to write him off. And now, with a Master he worshipped and yearmates who genuinely liked him, Bruck had become one of the Order's more promising Padawans.

"What are you looking so smug about, Kenobi?" Bruck asked, his deep voice breaking Obi-Wan's train of thought. "And" he muttered more quietly, "you better not be mooning over your Master. She'll start up again and I really don't want to have to either give or hear the Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon lecture again."

"Gods forbid," Obi-Wan replied. He drained his glass, savoring the smooth burning slide of the drink in his throat. "Next round's on me," he said loudly.

The next round was on Bant and then Bruck paid and, although they all knew enough to metabolize the alcohol harmlessly, none of them saw any need. Obi-Wan was feeling the buzz by the time the first band came on and he lost himself in the music, dancing with his friends and a few like minded young people the group gathered. Bruck and Bant seemed to be tag-teaming one attractive woman and Obi-Wan and Garen jokingly made bets with the girl's friends as to who she was more interested in.

Obi-Wan found himself dancing with Lisna as the second band came on. They had a more dreamy sound than the first group and Lisna snuggled up close wrapping her arms around his neck encouragingly. "Your Master really gonna be busy all night?" she asked. "You could spend the night with Garen 'n' me."

Oh damn, Obi-Wan thought. Trust her to have heard about that. He and Garen had discovered both each other and girls at 16 and had spent a year happily playing well with others. But it had just been play and Obi-Wan knew it, Garen knew it, their partners knew it and, most importantly, Qui-Gon knew it. After that whirlwind year of what Obi-Wan referred to as "getting a solid grounding in the basics," he had backed off and concentrated his attentions on Qui-Gon. It had been a year before either of them felt sure that a relationship would work and it was only now that they were talking about bonding.

"That smile sort of says it all," Lisna said gently.

"Sorry," Obi-Wan began.

"What for?" she said. "I've heard that you two are serious, but you haven't bonded, so I thought it was worth asking."

"Boldness, young Padawan, never wasted is," Obi-Wan said. "Hmmmm?"

She threw her head back and laughed.

"And you may be dancing at my bonding soon."

"Really?! Hey everyone, Obi-Wan is talking about getting bonded!"

Bant and Bruck, who knew already, just grinned, but Garen and Reeft cheered and slapped him on the back.

More drinks followed and more dancing and then the Slash Grrrls came on and the crowd, including the Jedi, went wild. Obi-Wan yelled and clapped and cheered with the rest as the raunchy quintet of musicians began to play music that pounded in the blood and body. All around people were dancing and groping and Obi-Wan was pretty sure that Bant and Bruck were going to have sex with their new friend right there on the dance floor.

As it was, his own blood was hot from the heady pulse of the music and the number of drinks he'd consumed, and he found himself reaching out to Qui-Gon, seeking to share this moment with his lover. He felt their connection across the Master-Padawan bond and knew that Qui-Gon could sense his mood. For a moment he felt as if he were actually wrapped in those long strong arms, loved, needed, desired by his Master.

Oh yes, love, you are loved and desired. Bring that energy back home to me and I'll be only too happy to show you just how much.

Shall I dance for you, oh my Master? Obi-Wan teased, moving sinuously, knowing that Qui-Gon could feel his every move at this moment.

You do every time we love.

Obi-Wan smiled and, looking around to see if anyone was watching slid a hand inside his shirt to pinch a nipple lightly.

Qui-Gon's mental voice seemed to groan. Impudent Padawan. Mace is giving me that look and I think M'Bast is giggling.

Good, Obi-Wan said smugly. It'll do them good. Am I driving you crazy, Master?

Can you doubt it, Obi-Wan? You're enough to make me wish I was there.

Good, keep that thought. And with that tease, Obi-Wan let the connection fade. He caught Bant's eye as she winked and he grinned back.

That was when they saw the flash and heard the scream. The shrill sound tore through Obi-Wan's head, amplified by the sound system. Instinctively, he cleared his system of the effects of the alcohol as he moved toward the stage. Bant and Garen were at his shoulders as more screaming broke out.

"She's burning!" someone yelled and more screaming broke out.

"Electrical fire," Bruck bellowed. "I'll get to the set-up."

"Right! Lisan, Reeft, crowd control," Obi-Wan yelled. He let Garen help him push toward the stage, a feat they managed without trampling anyone, Bant right behind them. "You will let us pass," Obi-Wan all but demanded when they reached the security barrier.

It must have worked; they were not hindered as they leapt the barrier and scrambled toward the stage. Both young men turned as one and grabbed Bant, almost tossing her onto the smoking stage. "I'm a Jedi," she called out urgently and moved quickly toward the crumpled figure on the floor. Even as she bent over, Obi-Wan could feel the currents of Living Force stir around her.

We all know terrible things happen. And we all know that we can never really stop being Jedi. If I carry anything away from this whole thing, I will carry my pride in my friends. We are taught to think not of ourselves but to serve the public good and we cannot ignore that calling anymore than we can ignore the need to breathe.

And so it is that I know that I did the right thing. But . . . never has doing the right thing hurt so much. Even now I can feel the pain leaking through and I find myself instinctively shielding it so it won't hurt him.

So it won't hurt either of them, to be truthful.

Master, the club!! We need Healers and the City Guard!

Understood Padawan.

Obi-Wan cut the link to his master and moved toward the frightened members of the band. He could feel the crowd behind him, its mood shifting from panic as it became clear that the situation was being dealt with. A short woman ran out onto the stage, and Obi-Wan moved up to head her away from Bant, Garen and the singer.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "And what happened to L'ea?"

"I'm Jedi," Obi-Wan replied. "My friends are trying to help her."

The word Jedi began to have its usual effect and Obi-Wan could sense the woman reaching for some sort of calm.

The lights went out and there was a tormented shriek of pain from the rear of the club. Obi-Wan staggered as a wave of pain burst through the Force, almost bringing him to his knees.

The crowd panicked, shouts and cries of fear coming as if from a many-headed animal in pain. Almost instantly Garen was at Obi-Wan's side, lighting his saber as Obi-Wan did the same. "Go see who was hurt," Garen said. "I'll try to help calm them down."

As Obi-Wan followed the burst of pain, he could feel calming waves of the Force emanating from not only Garen but from Reeft and Lisan down in the crowd. Trusting them, he followed Garen's instructions, opening himself up to follow the knife-edge of pain that led back behind the stage.

"Out of my way," he shouted to the crowd of stage techs who were crowded around a slumped figure. "Can someone get a light source in here?"

He knelt down in the space made for him and reached for Bruck. His friend's pain radiated into the Force, stunning Obi-Wan with its intensity. He cursed and felt out with the Force, drawing on the Living aspect as much as he could. It came, but too slowly.

"Light, Sithdamnit!" he yelled.

As if in answer, a light flared, just as Bruck spoke, his voice thin and thready. "Mind your fucking . . . language."

"Oh Gods," Obi-Wan whispered, looking at the horribly charred figure before him.

"Arched," Bruck whispered. "Hell of a way to go, eh."

"You're not going anywhere, Chun. You stupid bastard, what . . .?"

What do I do?

The Living Force almost seemed to tease him, hovering just out of reach. It didn't matter; he had no choice. He reached with every bit of energy he had in him, pulling ruthlessly from his own life energy. He was suddenly staggered by the dazzle of light behind his eyes and he instinctively reached out, pouring it into the man before him.

Something stretched . . . the moment? a bond? the Light that hovered between himself and Bruck?

Obi-Wan?

Hush . . . be still . . . let me catch you . . . I'm here . . .

"Obi? Wha'?"

"Shhh, Bruck . . . feel me? I've got you . . . you're safe . . ."

"Padawan Kenobi? You have to let him go now, Padawan."

"No, I can't! He'll die . . ."

"No, he'll be just fine."

"Can't let go . . ."

"Don't let go, Obi . . . don't go . . ."

"Not going anywhere, Bruck. Hush now and let us take you home."

I felt it the minute it happened, although it was much later that I realized exactly what had happened. In spite of Obi-Wan's tease, I was actually enjoying my evening with my friends. In fact, Obi-Wan's obvious enjoyment of his evening promised me an equally enjoyable late evening. I had no doubt that my young lover would return to me in a lovely disheveled, slightly inebriated state. If he did this sort of thing often I wouldn't be so charmed by the results, but the truth is that Obi-Wan needs to let go. I do my best to encourage him to act his age without stifling him.

I was halfway out the door, yelling into my comlink, even as the disaster at the club occurred. I could feel Obi-Wan's tense competence and, even in the heat of the moment, I felt proud that he was keeping his head. The other Padawans' Masters met me in the Main Concourse of the Temple and the Healers joined us in short order. We were halfway to the club when Master Sil gasped faintly and then closed her eyes, obviously reaching for her Padawan.

"Hold on, Bruck," she whispered.

I felt it then, Obi-Wan's distress. It surged across the bond like fire, and I knew he was terrified. "It's bad," I could hear myself saying to Healer Tsera.

She must have said something in return, but I couldn't concentrate. Something was stretching inside my head and I could feel the drain on the Force around the Master-Padawan bond I shared with my lover.

Obi-Wan!!

I received no reply in words, although something powerful pushed me away from Obi-Wan's mind. It wasn't quite rejection I felt, simply that I was a distraction that Obi-Wan didn't need. I fought to regain my center and held my side of the bond open but passive, ready to send him strength if he needed it.

Suddenly there was a strange surge over the bond and then . . . an odd silence. I still had the sense that Obi-Wan lived and was well, although tired, but nothing more. It was almost as slight a connection as that I have with Yoda.

It filled me with a strange foreboding.

Obi-Wan was screaming. "Let me in!" he yelled, pounding on the plasteel separating him from Bruck. His Master and Master Sil moved to pull him away, but a Healer came to the door and nodded at him. Tearing from their grasp, the young man rushed into the room that held Bruck Chun. To the amazement of their Masters, he bent and covered Bruck's mouth with his, delivering an obviously deep kiss to the other Padawan's dry chapped lips.

Bruck's shaking hand came up to grasp Obi-Wan's tail and hold him in the kiss. He could feel the strength pouring from him into Bruck and it felt utterly right. Bruck had to live; Obi-Wan couldn't imagine a world where he didn't. In the moment, he didn't even stop to worry about the fact that he was kissing someone else in front of his own lover. Nothing mattered except pouring himself into the kiss and so into Bruck.

"Enough," he heard after a long time. "You'll drain yourself and he's going to need you to keep him calm in the bacta."

"You have to stay, Bruck," he whispered fiercely. "Promise me."

Promise.

"He's not going anywhere but the tank," the Healer said gently. "You've seen to that."

He let them take Bruck, but he followed and any protest the Healers might have made died when they saw his face. He settled into a meditative pose in front of the tank, hyper-aware of Bruck's groggy awareness as he was lowered into the thick gel.

They didn't tell me until this morning. To be fair, it didn't occur to me to ask. Bruck was all I could think about. Part of me still monitors him, even though I know he's well on his way to recovery. Only after he was pulled from the tank did I think to ask why I was feeling so much of what he felt and why I could hear not only his directed thoughts, but other things as well.

"A soulbond?!" I shouted. "No! That's impossible. I have a lover; we've been talking about a bond."

I was told, quite gently, that I was responsible for initiating the bond with Bruck. In my need to heal him, my drive to see him live, I had sought any source of energy available to me.

Now, I must tell Qui-Gon. We can never bond and cannot remain lovers. In fact, even the thought of being his lover seems wrong to me now. All of me is tuned to Bruck. A part of my mind is busily wondering how I could have ever wanted anyone but him, even as my rational thoughts remind me that, before this, I never had the least shred of desire for him.

I still love Qui-Gon. That's the terrible irony of it all. Although desire has faded, the emotion remains. But, for all our sakes, the break must be clean and quick. I can only hope for forgiveness, from Qui-Gon, from Bruck, and most of all, from myself.

I square my shoulders and walk to the door.

I dread telling him.

The End