The blanket of despair was gone. He could live, he could breathe - Obi-Wan was alive and that was the only thing that mattered. Except..."Where is he? Will he be here?"

The Healer shook her head. "Obi-Wan will not be here. He believes you are ashes."

"Why? How?"

"How is simple. There were an abundance of bodies left from the battle. We used the Force to disguise one. Why will become clear in time, but for now it is best that only a very few know you live - or rather, that you have returned."

"Obi-Wan can be trusted. I trust him with my life, my soul."

"It is not for you to decide, Master Jinn. For now, all you must do is rest." She gestured to the young nurse, who injected something into him. "This will only aid your rest. I will return later."

Qui-Gon watched her depart in a swirl of green robes. He could feel the medication drag him down and fought it, until the nurse laid another gentle hand on him. "Sleep, Master. It is hard work to learn how to live again."

***************

Obi-Wan woke up with a start. He saw *him* again, as beautiful and strong as he ever was. More so, because now Obi-Wan knew him for beautiful, when before he only knew him as Master.

He was having these dreams every night now. Each night, Qui-Gon came to him, more and more clearly. This night, he even thought he could *hear* him. What was wrong with him? Qui-Gon was *dead*. He'd seen him burn.

Sleep was impossible. It took him hours to fall off in the first place, but once he'd had the dream, he was awake for the rest of the night and no good for his new work with the smallest children in the daytime. Frustrated, Obi-Wan threw back the covers of his bed, tossed on some clothing and went out into the night... a night nearly as starry as that one on that icy world.

Resolutely he put the memory from his mind, refusing to allow it to surface. The effort was substantial and, to avoid the stars that were hindering it, he turned away from the outer hall of the Temple and began walking inwards, toward the center.

There were no windows here, only the soft illumination of natural glow lights.They made the marble floors and polished stone walls shimmer.

After a few minutes he noted, with sad - and amused - exasperation, that the flecks of green and gold in the stone caught the light in just the right way, at certain levels and angles.

And twinkled, like stars.

Putting both hands to his face, he shook his head and muttered, still walking, the Force wide open, leading his steps as he followed, unquestioning.

His feet hit the floor softly, the rhythm soothing.

Not truly aware of the passage of time, half-asleep as he walked, rubbing at his face and eyes and shoulders at odd intervals, it wasn't until he reached the main intersection of the large hallways that he stopped and looked around.

Vaguely he wondered how he'd gotten there.

Suddenly his face ached, and he raised both hands to rub at it, then stopped himself.

His face didn't hurt.

Neither did his head, or shoulders.

Yet there was a ghostly ache - almost an echo - spreading through them. Then it eased and he could feel its absence as clearly as he had felt its presence.

"I am losing my mind," he said softly into the echoing vastness of the hallways, deserted at this hour.

Turning slowly in a slight circle, on his heel, he opened himself as far as he could welcoming the Force into his mind and heart, pleading with it to lead him to peace.

There was danger in this, in calling to the unknown, but he felt so alone, cut off from the Jedi, his mind faltering under the burden of solitary existence...

If there was anything out there that could help, he wanted it. Needed it.

With a whisper of response his call was answered, but by the one voice he would never hear again, except in dreams.

[Padawan...come to me...I need you...]

"Master..." Turning in his circle, he spun faster, arms outspread, cloak lifting with the Force. [Where are you, Master, I will come, I will come...]

[Need...you...hurts...come.]

Faster and faster Obi-Wan spun, until he was short of breath and dizzy and then, with a stunning loss of grace, he stumbled, and fell, hitting the floor hard, lying there, gasping.

The voice was gone.

"So is my mind," he said out loud. Then he shouted it, the words ringing off the walls. "SO IS MY MIND!"

Lying flat on his back in the middle of the intersection, the marble hard and cold, sucking the warmth from his body, Obi-Wan began to laugh. At first quietly, and then loudly, great guffaws of desperate, pained humor torn from his soul.

He hadn't lost his Master. He'd lost *everything*.

The laughter trailed off to quiet, cleansing sobs. Rolling to his stomach, he pillowed his face on his arms and cried quietly.

The change in the Force alerted him to the presence of another, but he did not move.

It was just easier to lie there, sniffling a little, and hope that they, whoever they were, would go away. The Force signature wasn't anyone he recognized, but it was strong enough to be a Padawan or a Knight.

"Can I help you?" A male voice, deep and smooth, and the heat of a hand hovering over his shoulder.

"Time is the only help I can expect." Feeling a surge of anger that this man had intruded upon his grief, Obi-Wan released it almost as soon as it rose. He was, after all, having his breakdown in a public place.

Strong but gentle hands turned him and he looked up, seeing dark curls and the bluest eyes.

The man wore not the robe of a Jedi, but the plain, rough tunic and trous of a healer. But there was no trim to his tunic, no sign of rank.

"You're -" Obi-Wan had to swallow, his throat dry, "-you're not Jedi? You are very - gifted - in the Force."

A smile flickered on the masculine face.

"There are many ways to serve the Light Side. This is mine."

"You're a nurse." Figuring it out, Obi-Wan relaxed into the hands that helped him sit.

"And you're in pain."

The statement was so blunt, so blatant, that the Jedi couldn't even draw breath to protest it.

He managed a shrug.

"Tell me about it." The nurse offered, sitting beside him, settling cross-legged, looking as if he could wait forever. "My name is Aribl, and I would like to help you."

"I'm - Obi-Wan. Kenobi. I was Padawan to Master Jinn..." He trailed off and blinked fiercely as tears threatened again.

"And now he is lost to you." Aribl nodded. "You seek him through the night? It would be better to rest, and let him come to you."

"Rest? My Master is dead. I cannot rest."As soon as the harsh words left his mouth, Obi-Wan regretted them, but the nurse seemed unaffected."He can't come to me. He no longer exists."

"Not the way you think, perhaps, but I am absolutely certain that your Master still exists, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and that he seeks your presence as desperately as you seek his."

"He called me." Twisting to look into those bright eyes, Obi-Wan spoke quickly. "I heard him. He said he was hurting, and that he needed me. I have to find a way to go to him."

Large hands, the backs of which were sprinkled with dark hair, clasped over Obi-Wan's and held them tightly.

"I *am* losing my mind, aren't I?" Obi-Wan said conversationally, shocked by his own words. "When the bond broke between myself and my Master, when he died in my arms, I felt something break inside me. And it's something that can't be fixed, isn't it?

"Everything can be fixed, if you have faith," Aribl said, with affectionate sternness. "You must trust the Force."

"It has betrayed me."

"You must *Trust* the Force," Aribl repeated.

Unable to answer, Obi-Wan was silent for a time. Then he pulled his hands free and the nurse did not object.

"You do not think I'm going insane? Or that the Dark Side is calling me?"

The blue gaze was steady and insistent."I know it is. You would never betray your Master by turning, no matter what the reward."

"Not even to get him back," Obi-Wan agreed, sighing and deflating.

"Go to your quarters." Standing, Aribl reached a hand to Obi-Wan who took it, staring at him.

"Sleep, in his bed if you must."

He tugged and Obi-Wan rose to his feet, shaky from sitting so long, cold from the floor.

"Let him come to you, however the Force allows." The nurse, whom he now realized was shorter than himself, and stockier, touched Obi-Wan's cheek gently with his fingertips, the same place Qui-Gon had touched as he died.

Unlike the touch of Apina's hand, days earlier, this was a blessing. A benediction.

"You-" He caught his breath and exhaled slowly, reaching for control that came easier now. "You believe that he will?"

"I know it," Aribl said softly, drawing his hand away. "Go now."

As he walked away, gaining strength with each stride, Obi-Wan felt those blue eyes watching him, until he turned a corner.

It was only later, when he was almost to the rooms he had shared with his Master, that he realized that Aribl's blue eyes bore a strong resemblance to stars.

***********************

"No! Get that thing away from me." Qui-Gon fought for calm. "In fact, get your self away from me."

The nurse stepped back, startled, still holding the syringe in her hand. "You are in great pain, Master Jinn. This will ease it."

"It will put me in such deep sleep that not even a disturbance in the Force could wake me. I refuse it. I will bear the pain."

"I cannot disobey the Healer."

"Then summon her. Now." There. His voice was as calm as ever. The nurse ran out of the room, still carrying that drug in her hands.

He lay back upon the bed. He would only have a brief time alone and conscious. He willed the pain in his chest, in his body, as far back as he could. He could not get it to the level he no longer felt it, but at least it would not interfere greatly. He then forced his mind to stillness and reached out to Obi-Wan yet again.

*Obi-Wan, I am here. I need you, Obi-Wan. Come to me. Hear me, Obi-Wan. I am here.* Long before the Healer arrived, he was exhausted from the twin efforts of controlling the pain and of sending his thoughts. He could not even tell if Obi-Wan had received them, although he *felt* something that made him think some might have reached their target. If only he could sense Obi-Wan as he had before.

What little strength he had was gone. He collapsed back onto his pillows, covered in sweat and beginning to shake as his control all but left him again. He closed his eyes. He would control himself. He was a Jedi knight.

As he lay there, no longer able to exist solely inside his mind, he became conscious of more than just the pain in his body. He could feel the softness of the sheets, the weight and heft of the blanket. Outside in the corridors, he could hear voices murmuring and over all of it was the smell of the infirmary - drugs, illness, and above all, disinfectants.

There were no windows in his room. He couldn't tell day from night, nor one hour from the next. This was almost the worst part of his confinement. It was as if nothing existed outside this place.

They told him this was for security - that if he had a window, he could be seen, and that only those with special clearance could even enter his room. He might as well have been in prison.

The door opened, and the Healer walked in. This time, the elegant robes that swirled around her were dark maroon, emphasizing the porcelain of her skin. "You frightened your nurse, Master Jinn."

"I would prefer Aribl to be my nurse, Healer Estern." He had to force himself to speak above a whisper.

"Aribl is our best, which is why we assigned him to you, but he has to sleep. As must you."

"Soon, my Healer. When may I see my...Obi-Wan?"

Estern shook her head. "The time is not right. You are not healed enough, body or soul."

"I need to see Obi-Wan. I will not rest, I will not take any drugs, I will do *nothing* until I see him and he knows I am alive."

"It is not in my hands, Jedi Knight." Her cool eyes looked straight into his.

He returned her gaze. "The council has decided that he is to be kept in ignorance and grief? I can feel his grief, Healer. It is very far away, but it is there."

"I cannot talk about the council. I can only do as they tell me."

"Then I wish to speak to the council. Surely *they* know I live." He was ashamed to see he was clenching the blanket in his fists. He forced his hands to open and lie quietly, but moments later, they were holding his covers again.

"They know, Master Jinn. I will talk to them. But you must sleep now. Allow me to administer the sedative."

"I will not take it." Drawing on the Force as strongly as he could, he forced the syringe in her hand to fall to the floor and break.

He nearly blacked out from the effort.

As he lay there grasping on to his consciousness, he could hear her run into the corridor and shout for a cleaning device and a communit. Moments later she returned and cleaned the floor herself. She carefully rearranged her robes when she finished her task and stood.

"I have sent for Aribl. Perhaps he can help if I can not. He will be here shortly."

"Thank you, Healer." Qui-Gon could feel himself relax with those words. She nodded and, in a swirl of maroon, left the room again, closing the door behind her.

Qui-Gon found himself wondering why just hearing that that young nurse was returning gave him such comfort. There was something about him...he was clearly an empath, a valuable skill for his profession, but there was more.

Aribl...he *knew* that name. It had been a minor event - one of the most promising padawans of a generation had quit his Jedi training in the middle to enter medicine. The council had been divided. Only because the boy's Master had spoken for him had he been permitted to do so.

So the nurse had the ability to be a Jedi and the calling to heal, plus gentleness and strength of will. No wonder Qui-Gon drew comfort from his very presence.

As he lay there musing, two men entered his room. One was Aribl, with rumpled curls and a disappointed expression on his face. The other was a tall man with short dark hair and clear blue eyes in the robes of a Jedi knight. He stood with his arm protectively draped over Aribl.

He looked familiar. "Je-Sma? You were in my covert negotiations class, were you not?"

The man nodded. "Yes, Master. Had I known it was you, we would have been here earlier."

"How is it that Je-Sma can be here and Obi-Wan cannot?"

The two men exchanged glances, then Aribl turned to Qui-Gon. "He and I are bonded. There is nothing one of us knows that the other does not. Je-Sma is often, too often, away on missions, so it was deemed safe for him to know. Also, he is a stubborn man and would not let me come here on my own." He gave Je-Sma a fond smile.

"I have just returned from a journey, Master, and Aribl, who would work day and night if he could, had just come home mere hours ago."

"My apologies, then."

"My love, will you stand outside for the moment?" Je-Sma nodded. He dropped a very small kiss on Aribl's head and left the room. Aribl pulled a chair up to Qui-Gon's bedside and took his hand gently.

"You are in great pain, Master Jinn. We can ease it."

"Until I see Obi-Wan, I will not be put under. You would feel the same way if...it were Je-Sma."

Aribl closed his eyes to concentrate. "I can sense something growing, but it's thin and fragile." He opened them again. "You do need him, and he needs you. I feel the hurt coming from both of you. Master, if I were permitted, I would rouse him and bring him to you immediately, but it is not up to me. Perhaps if I were more courageous...At least let me ease what I can of the pain myself."

"There is too much, young nurse. You need your strength for your work and your bondmate."

Aribl smiled and then appeared to concentrate. Slowly Qui-gon felt the pain drain away from his own body until it was only a shadow, while the nurse's beautiful face became drawn, with white lips and narrowed eyes. Almost immediately, the Jedi knight ran into the room and pulled their hands apart. He enfolded Aribl in his arms and held him.

Dimly, Qui-Gon could sense Je-Sma lending his own strength to his partner until, with help, Aribl could stand again.

"Sleep, Master. The pain will return but will not wake you. I will plead on your behalf."

"And you?" Qui-Gon felt himself begin to drift.

"I will care for him, Master. Do not worry." Je-Sma's voice was the last thing Qui-Gon heard before falling asleep.

***

Alone in his quarters.

Sitting in his chair - the one across the table from his Master's chair - Obi-Wan pondered the concept. It was almost a meditation, but he refused to let himself sink into it as deeply as his mind desired.

There might be peace in meditation, there might be healing. But, as well he knew, one had to want to be healed.

If this pain was all he had left of his Master, then he would embrace it, make it his own.

As he had been his Master's, so would his Master's death be his.

Pushing back from the table, he stood, rubbing at his eyes. His ear felt cold, no longer tickled by the braid that had hung behind it for so many years.

A Jedi Knight.

They expected great things of him, he knew, though the Council tried to hide it. All of the questions of Anakin's future, all the possibilities, he was now responsible for them.

The way Qui-Gon had been responsible for Obi-Wan's.

He had lived up to that potential, realized those possibilities, or at least the beginnings of them, but now he stalled. On the verge of his life, the life he had always wanted, unable to step over that threshold and live it.

Alone.

It wasn't like Anakin wasn't there, but even the first tiny tendrils of the teaching bond made his stomach curl when he touched them, and sent his unruly mind searching blindly, blithely, for the touch that should have been there.

Closing his eyes, he wandered the main room between the two small bedrooms, needing no light to see them.

As happened more often than not, he opened the glass doors to find himself on the small balcony, and looked up at the night sky.

The lights of the city-planet made the stars hard to see, but he didn't have to see them to know they were there.

Just as he didn't have to touch the bond to know Anakin was in his head.

The boy was adapting quickly, he should be thankful for that. Joining in his classes with enthusiasm, catching up faster than expected.

But still he needed to be in the creche, with the others his age, to learn the things they didn't teach slaves, things like how to be a person.

For so many things children were the best teachers.

And they slept when they were tired.

Sighing, dropping his eyes form the unrevealing sky, Obi-Wan paced the room again. Sleep came fitfully at best, and he dreaded another night in his cold bed. He didn't *have* to be alone. If he called her, Apina would come. She would forgive, and comfort.

The *last* thing he wanted right now was to touch another.

The very thought made his skin crawl.

There was only one touch he craved, mental or physical, and he had rejected it years ago, unknowing.

Go to Part Three