Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Star Wars...

Author's Note: While on vacation this one shot sort of popped up in my mind - and how could I refuse the plot bunnies? Please review and tell me what you think :)

And thanks to my wonderful beta Pronker and for the great suggestion for the title!

Epiphany

It had not been a good day.

Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight, Master of the Chosen One, Sith Killer, rising star in the ranks of the Jedi, already wise beyond his years, dumped his traveling bag unceremoniously to the floor of his bedroom, relieving his tired muscles, bone weary and troubled.

Bone weary because he had just returned from an exhausting, though not especially lengthy, mission to Ansion.

Troubled, firstly because of the uneasy feeling all the talk about secessionists left in the pit of his stomach, and secondly because lately he seemed to be constantly at odds with his nineteen-year-old apprentice Anakin Skywalker. Come to think of it the latter probably added to his weariness as well; the boy was exhausting all along the line.

Accordingly – and not very surprisingly – sleep was at the top of his priority list at the moment – well, along with finding out where in the blazes Anakin had vanished to again anyway.

Ever since their flight back from Ansion he had been sullen and withdrawn, and though that in itself was nothing new, Obi-Wan had the entirely unsettling feeling that this time was different somehow. Even more worrying was the fact that he had no idea whatsoever why, which was one of his failings as a Master. A Master should always know what was bothering his apprentice in order to help him through it. But then again, how could he possibly help Anakin if he didn't confide in him?

Sighing softly, Obi-Wan headed to the 'fresher to put away his toiletries.
In passing he glanced at the mirror hanging above the washing basin – and halted in mid motion. Since he'd taken to wearing a beard he hadn't had much need of a mirror – and there certainly hadn't been one available on the grass plains of Ansion – so it had been some time since he'd really looked at himself in a mirror.

The change was...unsettling.

His normally gleaming ginger hair was dull, and, if one looked closely, one could even make out hints of gray at his temples though he was only 35. His face, at the moment pallid from fatigue, was more lined from worry and stress then he remembered it being before.

Stress.

Now that was a fitting word for everything at the moment – give or take.

He was stressed, his relationship with Anakin was stressed, Force, even the galaxy seemed stressed. Though, to be fair, the latter probably always was.

And if the Council wanted to send them on even more missions, he would have to consider seriously having a word with them about that. Obi-Wan, of course, was aware that the reason why he and Anakin had been sent on an alarmingly increasing number of missions in the last two years was due to the fact that unrest was spreading throughout the Republic, the ranks of the Jedi thinning, and that they were one of the best Master-Padawan teams at the Temple, but that didn't make it any easier.

His Padawan on the other hand seemed to enjoy hopping all over the galaxy without much rest – as long as he got to fly anyway – and frankly Obi-Wan thought he liked the action a bit too much.

Speaking of Anakin...

Sensing a familiar turbulently powerful Force-signature approaching their shared quarters, Obi-Wan stepped back into the living-room, pushing his fatigue aside in preparation for a much needed talk with his apprentice – who, as it turned out, had completely different ideas.

Obi-Wan needed only one look at Anakin's posture and face to know that something was wrong. Seriously wrong.

"Ana-" he started to say, but the addressed just stormed past him without even looking at him and disappeared into his room. If it had been a door to manually close instead of the electronic slide door he surely would have slammed it.

Obi-Wan looked at the firmly closed door resignedly. What did I do wrong this time?

As much as he wanted to respect Anakin's privacy, they had to talk now, or they would never do so in a suitable manner. Too often he had already allowed walls or temper tantrums to stand between them – and he was sure now, in hindsight, that that was at least part of the reason why they had so many problems at the moment – failure at communicating.

He had to find a middle way between being too lenient and too strict. I wonder if all Masters have these concerns or if it's just me being incapable again... he mused wryly.

Obi-Wan knocked softly.

"Anakin, we need to talk," he said in a calm tone, belying the tension in the air.

Anakin's voice was muffled, but the anger in his voice was unmistakable nevertheless. "Go away, Master!"

"No, I won't go away, Padawan," Obi-Wan replied a bit more sharply than intended, drawing on the vast amount of patience slowly gained over the years with Anakin, though pinching the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to dispel a brewing headache. "I know you're troubled."

A wave of vibrant anger, anguish - and fear? - in the Force rolled over him with near staggering might.

"What do you care?!" Anakin snapped, on the brink of shouting outright. "It's all the same to you, isn't it?"

Hurt flared, quickly pushed aside.

For all the times he had already done it, arguing with Anakin never got any easier. Only because he didn't wear his heart on his sleeve and controlled his emotions as far as possible it didn't mean he was as emotionless – or heartless – as Anakin frequently accused him of being. He simply preferred harmony, holding a strong distaste for arguments in general – adding to that Obi-Wan was a quiet, self-contained person by nature, who rarely, if ever, raised his voice.

Not exactly an ideal premise for such a situation indeed. Or for dealing with Anakin in general. Lately he'd found himself not knowing what to do with his more and more disobedient apprentice anymore far too often. If Anakin had just hit an extremely late puberty or if it was because something else he would probably never know. He certainly couldn't remember going through such a phase himself...

Resisting the very un-Jedi-like urge to simply go to bed and forget about all this or bang his head against the door in frustration – yeah, that would probably be very helpful – he spoke quietly, but earnestly, willing Anakin to hear the sincerity in his words, "That isn't true, Padawan. I only wish to help you."

A disbelieving snort was the only answer.

Again frustration rose in him, but he ruthlessly squashed it. The last thing he needed now was his emotions getting the better of him. At least one of them needed to keep a cool head, something he very much doubted Anakin was doing. Remember, no distractions from the matter at hand.

Distractions like that blasted wall between them for example.

"Anakin, I mean it! And please open the door."

For a terrifyingly long moment nothing happened. Complete silence. Only the soft rush of air into his lungs. Then a soft swooshing noise as the door slid open, and relief washed through him like a river coming down from the mountains to join the sea. However, the relief was nowhere near as long-lived.

To be precise, it had outlived itself one look at Anakin's red face, puffy eyes – had he been crying?? - so unreasonably hot with fury, later. A fury, for some reason he hadn't figured out yet, directed at him, returned him swiftly and painfully to complete sobriety just as his apprentice blew up – metaphorically speaking. He supposed he should have seen it coming...

"Oh, yes, you mean it, of course," he hissed sarcastically, his face twisting in a sneer. "You just don't understand! You never do!"

Obi-Wan blinked, shocked. Where had that come from? Then he asked quietly, his voice softly pained, hinting only at the anguish he felt over his Padawan's thoughts about him, "How can I understand you if you don't tell me what's wrong? What kind of Master do you want me to be?"

Anakin's eyes gouginginto his with the intensity of an erupting volcano. Obi-Wan however held his ground. But even his Jedi calm shattered at the the words now flung at him.

"A Master who doesn't only hold me back because he is jealous of my powers! A Master like Qui-Gon Jinn!"

Obi-Wan froze, stilled, completely devoid of any movement, a feeling like ice spreading through his veins even superseding the hurt for a few seconds, but then it burst over him like a tidal wave. He was drowning. Drowning in the harsh truth he hadn't wanted to face for ten years, now so carelessly thrown into his face.

He staggered backwards, barely acknowledging the hiss of the door as it shut behind Anakin.

Slowly, mechanically, he stumbled over to the couch, slumping down in it gracelessly, burying his face in his hands.

Anakin's words echoing in his head, accusing, he moaned softly. 'A Master like Qui-Gon Jinn!'

Oh, how often had he wished Qui-Gon was still there! He would have been a much better Master for Anakin, he would have known what to do.

It was his failure to stop his beloved Master from being killed all over again. His failure to be a proper Master.

Failure...

**

Anakin stormed through normally tranquil hallways, ignoring the pointed glances from Knights and Masters passing his way alike. Seemingly most of the older Jedi had perfected the patented 'Master Windu wouldn't approve of that'-look. Anakin snorted softly to himself. Master Windu rarely approved of anything, sometimes he wondered if that man had been born with a perpetual scowl on his face. Not that he wasn't familiar with that look – for some reason people, well Jedi, always looked at him that way, even if he was behaving properly...which, admittedly wasn't often.

Only his Master didn't.

At the thought of Obi-Wan another wave of anger rose in him. Damn, that man could be simply so infuriating! Standing there, so blasted calm, and prying into things he didn't want to talk about!

Fuming silently, he made his way through three elevators and two more hallways until he reached his destination.

An almost palpable air of tranquility enveloped him as as soon as he set a foot into the Room of a Thousand Fountains, his refuge whenever he was upset. Sometimes he really needed the extra aid in calming down – it was really hard to stay angry in such a serenely beautiful environment. Soft greens and blues mingled with lively silver and golden light, illuminating the lush greenery and sparkling water among the soft plashing of cascading water. Of course it was all artificial, but it felt real nevertheless, another testimony of the skill with which the Temple had been built – and it reminded Anakin of Naboo. Maybe that was the reason why he'd immediately taken to the room when Obi-Wan, who loved the room as much as he did and often meditated here, had first shown it to him on his second day as an apprentice at the Temple.

Settling down at a fountain shaped like flowers opening themselves to the sun, water flowing from their blossoms, Anakin wearily rested his head against the smooth stone.

Now that his anger had all but evaporated, leaving him feeling strangely empty, the fact that his anger had sprung from his fear practically jumped into his face. Along with that came the sickening realization that he'd terribly wronged his Master. Why did he always have to take his anger out on him?

Because he is the person always available to lash out at, a small voice at the back of his mind whispered, sounding curiously like Qui-Gon Jinn. You let your anger rule you.

Whatever he'd said only a few minutes ago, it really wasn't Obi-Wan's fault. He had only tried to help and Anakin had thrown his words back into his face and insulted him. Hurt him.

In his mind's eye he could still see the shock on his Master's face and the pain in his blue-gray eyes as he staggered backwards from Anakin's spiteful words.

Why, oh why, had he said that last bit?

Again that little voice spoke the truth he didn't want to face. You wanted to hurt him. And you reveled in it – for a moment. That is the path to the Dark Side.

Anakin buried his face in his hands, moaning, shame filling him. Yes, for a moment he'd felt it: a dark triumph at the pain he'd inflicted – on the one man he'd sworn never to hurt. What kind of person was he that he felt like that? That he was able to feel like that? How could he ever make that right again?

He slumped, disconsolately. He wasn't worthy to be called a Jedi, if only a Padawan.

Every person has a Dark Side. Acknowledge your fears, and you will pass beyond it, the voice sounded, nearly making him jump. This voice...it really sounded like the late Master Qui-Gon...but that was impossible...wasn't it? The advice sounded Jedi-ish enough at any rate.

Acknowledge your fears...

Obi-Wan's voice echoed in his mind. "How can I understand you if you don't tell me what's wrong?"

Anakin straightened, his gaze suddenly determined. He would go and apologize to his Master – and tell him everything. If Obi-wan still would listen to him after what Anakin had done to him that is.

**

For a few heartbeats Anakin simply stood in front of the plain door to their quarters, trepidation warring with the knowledge that this needed to be done and that he could fault no one but himself for being in this situation, then, gathering all his courage he went in.

Not sparing a single thought for the fantastic light patterns the sinking sun painted on the floor and ceiling, his eyes immediately sought Obi-Wan.

What he saw was enough to make him curse himself all over again.

His Master sat slumped on the worn couch, head in his hands. The Force around him practically twisted in misery, a gray cloud all around him. Anakin had never known Obi-Wan Kenobi, one of the strongest, most dependable persons he knew to look that...dejected. Beaten.

Force, what have I done?!

A few hesitant steps forward didn't catch his Master's attention. He halted, caught off guard by the fact that he didn't acknowledge his presence – or was he just not paying attention to his surroundings?

"Master?" he ventured, not even trying to veil his anxiety.

Obi-Wan looked up slowly, surprise, and to Anakin's chagrin not a small amount of disbelief, evident on his face. "Anakin?"

Anakin swallowed past a painful lump in his throat, desperately searching for the right words – but then, in true Anakin-fashion, everything just tumbled out of his mouth uncontrollably.

"Master, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean what I said, I just...got so angry and couldn't help it. I know it was wrong and I shouldn't have done it, but it's so hard to control sometimes..." His voice died down to an anguished, yet pleading, whisper as he cast his gaze down to the floor. "I'm sorry."

For a moment there was silence, as Obi-Wan examined him, his eyes unreadable. Finally he said, sounding unbelievably tired, so weary, "You wouldn't have said it if you had not deep down harbored these feelings." A short, sharp, entirely humorless smile. "Not that I blame you, I have thought most of that myself."

Anakin blinked at him in complete shock. "But, Master! You shouldn't think like that of yourself, it isn't true! I can't deny I have sometimes thought those things when I was feeling resentful or angry, but when I cool down and think about it rationally, I always know it's not true."

Again, that silence. Pressing down on him. Suffocating. Leaving him so blasted uncertain. Obi-Wan's face was once again inscrutable.

"Or maybe, I'm simply not the right Master for you."

No! He can't mean that! He... Anakin fought the sudden urge to slap his hands over his ears to shut out the flatly spoken words. To shut out their meaning.

"Don't say things like that, Master! You're like a father to me!"

Obi-Wan looked at him sharply, then rose abruptly and stepped over to the window. Despite himself Anakin watched fascinated as his hair began to glisten golden and his whole body fairly seemed to glow. On other occasions, too, he had already noticed that the light seemed to be practically drawn to Obi-Wan Kenobi – though he doubted the person in question realized it.

"And do all children trouble their fathers so?" Obi-Wan asked softly, almost gently, turning back from the window to face him.

Anakin shrugged. "As children go, I might be...um, something of a worst case scenario, I'm afraid."

Inside he cheered as the corners of his Master's mouth turned up slightly in his typical wry grin. "Yes, probably."

"Besides it's all part of growing up," Anakin added, smiling in return.

Obi-Wan raised a brow. "That sounds pretty wise to me, Padawan. Are you sure you're Anakin Skywalker?"

"Hey!" he protested mock-indignant, secretly relishing the return of their banter – it meant the worst of the storm had passed - "I'm not a total imbecile, you know!"

"Really?" The reply was totally deadpan, and totally Obi-Wan.

"And a Padawan is supposed to teach his Master as well, not only the other way round."

A hint of another smile. "I must have forgotten to read the small print when I signed in for the job..."

"That will teach you to be more mindful of minor details, Master," Anakin retorted, failing in his struggle to hold back a chuckle.

"Impudent brat!"

"Always, Master."

Obi-Wan sighed long-suffering, muttering, "And he's proud of it, too, Force help me."

For a moment, a long blissful moment Anakin wished would never end, they both just enjoyed their camaraderie, but, as it had a habit of doing, time didn't stop, and, for Anakin all too soon, Obi-wan sobered again, his gaze hardening.

"We need to talk about what happened."

"I know."

Anakin paused, sorting his thoughts. How was he going to explain all this to his unflappable, seemingly never angry Master?

"Why I was angry? Well, you know Master Yoda's saying 'Fear leads to anger and so on'? I guess I just proved for me that that's true."

Obi-Wan's expression didn't change. "What are you afraid of, Anakin?"

"On the flight back from Ansion I had a dream – a vision." He swallowed, studying the carpet. "It was about my mum. She was in pain, so much pain. And then she...shattered."

Anakin raised his haunted gaze to Obi-Wan again, pain clearly visible in the blue depths of of his eyes, and burst out, "I just can't stand the thought of mum in agony and dying!"

"You know that it might have just been that – a dream," his Master stated, watching him intently, searchingly. "And dreams pass in time."

"Master, I saw her as clear as I saw you now!" Anakin cried, urging him, pleading with him to believe him. "And every time I try to meditate or sleep the vision returns. It's...it's driving me crazy," he ended in a broken whisper, to his shame having to blink back tears.

Sudden warmth enveloped him, an overwhelming sense of safety. He hadn't even noticed Obi-Wan move, but here he was, shielding him from reality, if only for a moment.

"Oh, Padawan, I wish you didn't have to go through this all," a gentle, but pained voice whispered near his ear.

Those words finally broke the dam, that oh so fragile dam holding back the worst of his emotions. Glistening tears streaked down his face onto Obi-Wan's shoulder, accompanied by small sobs. He hadn't allowed himself to cry for years, but oh it felt good to simply let go.

He cried until no more tears would come.

Finally Obi-Wan pulled back from their embrace and said softly, "You should better pack, Anakin. We'll leave for Tatooine in the morning."

Anakin's jaw went slack as he stared at his mentor in wide-eyed astonishment. "But, Master, the Council-" he sputtered.

"Screw the Council," Obi-Wan interrupted him firmly. "Besides we've earned a vacation anyway."

If it had been possible, his jaw would have surely hit the ground by now. Had he really just heard Obi-Wan Kenobi, one of the most obedient and Council-abiding Jedi he knew, who always lectured him on respecting the Council, actually tell him to screw the Council?!

"Master, are you sure you are all right? You weren't hit over the head or something?"

Obi-Wan only looked at him, raising a brow, and smiled, then chuckled and finally his voice rose in a full blown laugh, a sound of such clear, rich mirth that Anakin couldn't help but join in.

"You should have seen your face!" he gasped, when he'd regained his composure enough to speak.

Anakin tried to look affronted – and failed. Anything to make his Master laugh.

"Well, really Master, what has gotten into you?"

"You have gotten into me, Padawan. And now go pack, we still want to sleep today, don't we?" Obi-Wan replied, making slight shooing motions with his hands. But before Anakin had reached his door he was stopped by another call. "And this 'all part of growing up' thing is not going to be your excuse for everything from now on, is that clear?"

Laughing, Anakin entered his room. Suddenly the galaxy seemed right again. They were going to see his mum. And he had reached a new level of understanding with his Master.

After all how could there be harmony without the occasional dissent?

END