Well everyone, here's the last part.  Thanks for the FB and I hope you guys like it!  Please tell me what you think!

Time's Arrow

~ Part Four: Healing ~

Obi-Wan:

          I fixed my gaze on a tree behind Tahl.  Now I understood why Qui-Gon had always spoken of Master Dooku with respect and gratitude, but never with affection.  He had trained for years under Master Camad, with whom he shared a special bond, until it was ripped from him.  Doubtlessly, it was Master Dooku who would pick up Qui-Gon's training from this point, but they would never be anything more than Mater and Padawan, never good friends.

          A stab of sadness shot across my heart.  Qui-Gon had known so much grief in his life.  First losing Master Camad, then losing an apprentice to the Darkside, and now losing Tahl.  Between those three horrible things were spread countless missions where my Master had no doubt witnessed dreadful suffering and pain.  No wonder he was taking the loss of his best friend so terribly.  He had already been through so much; he'd lost and been hurt more than he could stand.

          "Since then," Tahl's own saddened voice cut into my thoughts, "I've seen him aimlessly wandering about the Temple, or kneeling and meditating in one of the gardens.  Always alone.  I can feel his grief every time I'm near him."

          "Doesn't he have any friends?" I asked, still gazing at the white branches and blue leaves of the rema tree.

          "No," she whispered, "I don't think so.  Even before he was Master Camad's Padawan, I would see him alone in the gardens.  It was different than this, though.  I could feel his peace then, and I knew he was admiring the beauty of nature, not trying to find solace for his sorrow."

          There were so many things I didn't know about Qui-Gon, I realized with regret.  I had always imagined him having countless friends and flying through his training with little to no problems.  I had seen him becoming more and more fascinated with the Living Force as he grew and learned more about the Force in general, but in truth he had been drawn to it even as a young Initiate.  Even after three years, and even after growing constantly closer and closer day by day, he was still a mystery to me.

          I didn't want him to be a relative stranger to me though.  We were friends, but I wanted to be closer to him.  I wanted to know more about him, about his life and dreams.  I felt that I could tell him everything without fear of being judged or ridiculed, and I wanted him to feel the same in return.  I wanted him to trust me with more than just his life, but in the way he had trusted Tahl: with his hopes and sorrows.  Most of all, I wanted to be able to help him through this loss.

          I shifted my gaze from the rema tree and glanced first at Qui-Gon, and then at Tahl.  The Force was drawing them together.  It was swirling around them in a dance and song built of sensations, feelings, and colors that washed over my mind like sunset stretching out over the sky.  They were meant to be friends.

          Grinning, I suddenly understood.  This was it.  This was the reason I was here.  Tahl and Qui-Gon were supposed to be friends, had become the best of friends, and yet they had barely ever spoken to each other.  Even though Qui-Gon was in so much pain because he had lost her, he still needed to meet her.  After all, it was better to have been able to know and love her then to have never been friends, wasn't it?  My 'task' in the past was to make sure they became friends!

          "Tahl!" I couldn't help but sound excited, "You should go talk to him."

          Tahl was clearly confused, "Why?"

          "Because, no one should ever be alone at a time like this."

          Tahl looked as if she would argue, and maybe ask me what she should say to him, but then she sighed and shot me a frustrated look, "I don't know why I'm doing this," she muttered, "I don't even know you!"

          Then she turned and slowly walked up to where Qui-Gon was kneeling.

          I lingered behind her, staying far enough away to not be obtrusive but close enough to hear them talk.  It seemed important to watch them truly interact for the first time, and begin to form a bond that they would carry with them for the rest of their lives.

          Qui-Gon looked up at Tahl, the question clearly evident in his eyes.

          "The thing about losing someone that you love is that you must grieve, and then move on while always carrying that person in your heart," she whispered softly, "I thought you might want some company while you mourn your Master's death."

          My Master shook his head and opened his mouth to refuse Tahl's request, but then her gaze seemed to catch his, and they looked at each other for a handful of moments that seemed to stretch out for eternity.  In those instants, I felt them both recognize their mutual loneliness, and the potential for a friendship.  I couldn't tell how much of the depth of their future relationship they glimpsed, but they both saw something in the other, and smiled.

          "That would be a kindness," Qui-Gon allowed, gesturing for Tahl to kneel with him.

          Tahl complied, scooting forward on the grass so that their knees touched.

          As I watched, I expected Tahl to say something to try and comfort Qui-Gon, but she didn't.  Instead she reached forward and took one his hands in one of her own.  Intertwining their fingers, she simply sat with him, giving him the comfort of letting him know that he wasn't alone.

          And it was a comfort.  Qui-Gon's grief had been a palpable cloud of darkness, now I could feel it thinning and lifting away from him.  The sadness was still there, but having someone to be with seemed to make it easier to deal with.  Even though they hardly knew each other, and even though Tahl being there didn't change what had happened to his Master, there was a little light sneaking into my Master's gaze.  Just knowing someone cared was enough.

          It was then that I realized my mistake.  Thinking Qui-Gon mostly needed time to heal, I had let him be.  I had agreed to attend classes, instead of staying back with my Master as I should have done.  Even when I had spent time with him, I had just sat in the same room with him, wondering what I needed to do to help.  I hadn't been there *for* him.  Saying that I was there if he needed me wasn't enough; I needed to *show* him I was there.  I needed to hold his hand and sit with him so that he realized again that he wasn't alone, because somehow, seeing me everyday didn't prove that to him.  He needed to feel my caring.  Maybe then, he would start to heal.

          Tahl felt my gaze upon her and turned to look at me.  Nodding to her in acknowledgement, I returned the smile she sent me and turned to leave the garden, ready to let her and Qui-Gon discover and form their amazing friendship on their own.

~~~~~~~~~~

          It was completely dark in my room when I woke up.  Sitting up in my bed, I peered into the obscurity, waiting for my eyes to adjust.  When they did, I saw that I was still wearing the robes I had fallen asleep with and that it was only four in the morning. 

          Had it all been a dream?  No, that was impossible.  It had been too real and too detailed to only be a dream.  Somehow, someway, I had been in the past.  I had spoken to Tahl and amazingly enough, I had set her friendship with Qui-Gon in motion.  She had repaid me by showing me what I needed to know to comfort him now.

          Reaching out towards the glass of water that I kept on the nightstand by my bed, I hissed as a bright flash of burning pain ignited just below my right shoulder, making my entire arm stiffen and throb.

          Carefully, I rolled up the sleeve of my shirt.  Under the soft material was a swelling red and black burn.  If any doubt had lingered as to whether or not my journey had been real, this would have dispelled it.  It was the wound I had suffered while helping Tahl defend herself against the probes in the training room.

          With my left hand, I opened the small drawer in my nightstand and pulled out the jar of bacta I had stored there.  Then, gently, I smeared some of the thick cream over the wound, rubbing it into the skin so that it would mend more quickly.  The bacta was cold and made my skin tingle but it eased the pain.  As soon as it dried I pulled my sleeve back down and climbed to my feet.

          It was time to see Qui-Gon.

          His room was illuminated by a single streak of moonlight, falling in through the open window to reveal an empty bed of tangled sheets.  In the darkness, I could barely make out his silhouette, sitting motionless on the soft cushions of his small couch.  He was shrouded by darkness, but I knew that he was awake.  I could feel it in the sadness that clouded the Force.

          "What is it, Obi-Wan?" his barely audible question broke the eerie stillness of the room.

          I delicately crept across the room, my bare feet making no noise against the soft carpet.  Stopping when I stood just inches from his unmoving form, I leaned down and wrapped my arms around his stiff, tension filled frame.  Smoothing my hands over his shoulders and upper back, I turned my head so that I could rest my cheek against his chest.

          "Did you have a nightmare?" his voice was devoid of all emotion.

          Closing my eyes, I repeated Tahl's own words, "The thing about losing someone that you love is that you must grieve, and then move on while always carrying that person in your heart," I tremor ran through his whole body, and I tightened my arms, "I thought you might want some company while you mourn for Tahl's death."

          Qui-Gon pulled back from me and held me at arm's length.  I could see his widened eyes carving through me in the dim light.  He recognized those words and the air sizzled with his dazed wonder and questioning curiosity.  Creeping through his haze of grief were different thoughts than any he had recently harbored; he was quizzical as to where I had pulled his best friend's words from.

          Finally, with a shake of his head and a barely visible smile, he seemed to decide that it didn't matter.  Instead he grabbed my hand and pulled me forward until I was sitting on the couch next to him.  A few seconds later a heavy arm was laid across my shoulders and he was drawing me sideways until I was leaning against him, with my head against his shoulder.

          "That would be a kindness," my Master relaxed back into the couch and took hold of my hand, clutching it as tightly as if it were the only thing that could save him from plummeting to his death in a pit of despair. 

          He didn't say anything else, nor did his grief lesson.  No, his sorrow was still as deep, his hurt still as cuttingly raw, but I sensed a tiny shimmer of something that I hadn't felt within him for a long time: hope.  Something had finally broken through his anguish.  It wasn't the comfort of words, but the fact that for the first time since Tahl's death I was sitting here *with* him, instead of just occupying space within the same room.

          Whenever I wasn't feeling well, when I was scared or when I had woken up from a nightmare, Qui-Gon would come into my room and sit with me.  Speaking in a soft, soothing voice, he would comfort me until I was calm again.  Never harsh or disappointed because of my succumbing to emotions that did not befit a Jedi, he would always know what to say to ease the tension in my heart.

          Therefore, the few times when the tables were reversed and it was my Master who needed to be comforted, I always felt woefully inadequate to the task.  He always knew what to say and I would find myself bumbling and stuttering over my supposed words of reassurance.  Not able to think of anything to tell him after Tahl's death, I had stayed silent and hadn't offered the one thing he needed: understanding companionship.  I didn't need to come up with deep words of wisdom, I just needed to be with him and offer him my friendship.

           Closing my eyes, I reached out through the Force to touch our bond.  It was still nearly ceiled off from me, but instead of pulling back as I usually did, I began pouring all the positive emotions I could muster through the little crack.  Conjuring up some of my most pleasant memories, I sent the joy and contentedness they evoked pummeling into him.  I knew that *some* of my thoughts and feelings had to be reaching him through the small opening that existed between our minds, and I was going to ease away some of his grief with some of my light-filled emotions.

          At first there seemed to be no effect but little by little I felt the barriers he had erected slip away until finally, after an eternity of quiet minutes, our bond was open again.  Instead of the peaceful tranquility that usually shone through his side of the link, I was inundated with all of the pain he had kept bottled up inside.  It came flooding through into my mind with the force of a thousand ramming sharks – vicious and merciless – but I did not fight it.  Instead I let it flow freely between us, always returning my love, understanding, and joy in return. 

          Countless times in my apprenticeship to this man, I had latched onto his serenity to calm myself, but now it was Qui-Gon who was drawing on my emotions and pulling them into himself.  Every positive thought and feeling I could muster and push over to him was eagerly snatched up and used as a beacon of light to fight off the darkness that had filled his soul.  Our bond was a flurry of activity and gradually, I felt him reign in the grief that had nearly consumed him.  It would be a long time before he woke up one morning and did not feel the bitter sorrow, but at least the healing process had begun.

          I sat with him in silent support for a myriad of hours, until dawn broke out over the northern sky and beautiful rays of light brightened the room.  Even then I only moved when I saw him take a small strand of his long hair and unwittingly begin winding it around his fingers. 

          My Master was a very hard person to read but over the years I had learned that he had various idiosyncrasies, one of which was the fact that when he was not preoccupied with an important mission, he would twiddle with his hair when he wanted tea.

          Therefore, when he absentmindedly began to fiddle with one tress of hair, I pressed a dry kiss to the back of his hand and momentarily excused myself to the kitchen.

          Qui-Gon probably drank more tea than any other ten Masters combined, and I had learned how to make it for him.  This time I chose one of his favorite blends – rescet tea with a dash of sysli powder and a trickle of sweet titso cream – and poured it into the teacup I had given him two years earlier.

          Carrying the teacup of steaming liquid back into my Master's room, I offered it to him with the hint of a smile touching my lips.

          My Master looked up at the procured teacup and registered a touch of surprise when he realized I had brought him what he himself hadn't consciously realized he wanted.  Taking it from me, he touched the edge of the teacup to his lips and took a small sip, evidently savoring the taste for he closed his eyes and sighed softly.

          "Thank you, Obi-Wan," he murmured, "You are an angel."  A pulse of love and gratitude flowed freely across our bond and I knew he was referring to much more than just the drink.

          Blushing, I muttered a hasty, "You're welcome," before taking my place as his side.

          Placing a heavy hand on my right shoulder, he squeezed lightly.  My wound sparked in fiery protest under the sudden increased pressure, and I wasn't able to stop myself from flinching and hissing softly through my clenched teeth.

          Sharp blue eyes studied my face as nimble hands set aside the teacup and rolled up the fabric of my sleeve to reveal the bacta-lathered burn.  A flash a worry pushed away some of the sadness in his face and eyes and for a moment, just fleeting moment, he was my Master again – concerned and worried for me.  "Obi-Wan?  What is this?"

          Closing my eyes, I couldn't stop myself from smiling.  He had noticed!  He had been dismissive of me for weeks on end but now he had noticed the wound and was troubled by it.  It felt good to be cared for again, and silently I noted that if it helped bring my Mater back to me, I would gladly suffer twenty such wounds.  "It's nothing Master, just a little training accident.  I'll be fine."  Neither of which were a lie, so hopefully he wouldn't press me further.

          Qui-Gon looked at the wound thoughtfully, gently rubbing his fingers over the tight, swelling flesh, before nodding and releasing my arm.  "Very well," he said, his voice distant as his thoughts were again driven to ones of mourning.

          Once more, Qui-Gon drew me close with his arm and I nestled into him, resting my head and shoulders against the side of his upper chest.  Only this time, I felt my own weariness creep up to claim me.  In truth, I had barely slept during night and I was tired, having only stayed awake for my Master's sake.  Now tentacles of fatigue were starting to have an affect on me.  The constant rising and falling of his chest was nearly hypnotic, and it began lulling me to sleep.

          "Did I ever tell you how Tahl and I became friends?" Qui-Gon inquired in a voice tinged by great sorrow, but much more vitalized than I had heard in a long time.

          I tried to rouse myself, but even though this was the first time he had spoken of her since her death and I knew this was an important step in his recovery, all I could manage was a mumbled, "No, Master."

          "I was a little older than you are now," he sipped on his tea thoughtfully, thinking back to that day in the garden, "and I was mourning the death of my first Master.  We had only exchanged a few words before that day, but when she saw me kneeling in the garden she came and offered me her companionship," there was immense gratitude in his voice, and I smiled sleepily.

          "Even though we weren't friends, she sat with me, and after a long while we began to talk," Qui-Gon continued speaking, telling me of their conversation with a mix of dawning contentedness and regretful sorrow. 

          I tried to pay attention but the deep rumble of his chest betrayed me and I found myself succumbing to the world of dreams.  His words drifted from low whispers to normal tones as I flowed between the line of mild and deep sleep, and for a timeless period I was completely unaware of it.

          When his voice floated back into my stream of consciousness, it was to tell me what had happened a few days after Tahl and Qui-Gon had started their friendship.  My Master had somehow moved me so that I was lying on my back with my head and shoulders in his lap and with a blanket pulled over me.  I opened my eyes to watch him through blurry vision as he spoke.

          "…then that she told me of the boy who had mysteriously appeared in the Temple for a handful of hours on one day.  She explained that without him, she never would have spoken to me," he paused to caress my cheek gently, "and we set out on a quest to discover his identity.  No one other than Mace Windu remembered seeing him though, and no Padawan of that description had ever lived in the Temple.  Eventually, we gave up, concluding that he belonged to another place and time.  But we never forgot him, or the gift he gave us by initiating our friendship."

          My Master fell silent, and still half-asleep, I beamed inwardly at knowing that even if he never realized it, I held a special place in his heart for doing what I had done just hours ago for me, but decades ago for him. 

          Qui-Gon's gaze was fixed on my own.  His eyes were still shadowed by grief, as was his voice marred by it, but they were brighter than they had been in a long while, and there was an immense pool of gratitude contained in them that pulsated in my heart.  It was gratitude for being with him and helping him begin the healing process, but also for something else, something that lifted the sleep from my body and filled me with sudden alertness so that I could catch his next whispered words.

          "And now that I've finally found you," he leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead, "I want to thank you for what you did for Tahl and me."

          He…he…he knew?  How…how was that possible?  I hadn't given her my name and he hadn't even seen me!  Sitting up in a flash, I gaped at him in wordless shock for a good thirty seconds before I finally managed to stammer, "You know?  How do you know?"

          My Master laughed – actually laughed for the first time in so long – at my surprise, and pulled me into a very tight hug.  Holding me close he whispered, "Tahl knew the first time she heard you speak.  We were waiting for a time when we were sure it had taken place for you as well.  When you said those words to me – the first words she ever spoke to me as a friend – and then I saw your wound, I knew it had finally happened," here the sparkle in his eyes died and the heartache spread to his voice once more, "She'd be sorry that she missed it."

          Sending him waves of comfort through our bond, I said, "I will gladly stay with you for the rest of eternity if that's how long it takes you to heal, and longer still."

          He placed a gentle hand on my head and ruffled my hair, "Thank you my friend, thank you so much."

THE END