Littlelionluvr: Thank you! And he has come to a decision. :)

Chapter 35

Three Weeks Later

The Senator stood near his office window looking out over the city planet below, his attention captured by the five spires in the distance. His thoughts lingered on his beloved nephew; the young man had been like a son to him, a testament to the strength of their relationship. When the young man's father had abandoned the boy and his mother, he had stepped in to help his sister raise her son. The youth had been quick witted and talented; his young wife a complement to his personality, strengths and fallacies. When the young man met with his untimely demise, he had stepped in to help with his surrogate grandchildren. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. One murderer had finally been brought to justice while the younger of the two sat inside the Jedi Temple protected from the sentencing that should have been handed down upon his capture; he had been outvoted in the Senatorial chamber as to the future of the youth who had taken his nephew's life.

"Senator," his secretary called to him. "You're niece is here to see you."

Turning away from his thoughts, he smiled congenially at his assistant while motioning for her to show his guest in.

The young woman smiled upon seeing her uncle. The man was tired and overworked if the dark circles beneath his eyes were any indication. She walked over, eagerly offering him an embrace when she reached him. He welcomed the action, looking behind her for the two shadows that usually accompanied her.

She pulled away, pulling him over to the sofa just on the other side of his desk. "They're still in school; I thought to come by to see how you were doing."

He rubbed a hand over his face, trying in vain to put on a happier façade. She reached over and took his hand, pulling it down toward the cushions while encasing it between her palms. "I know you miss him," she whispered. "So do I."

"You're doing well," he suggested.

"I'm moving on if that's what you mean." She patted his hand for emphasis.

He sighed. "I'm stuck in yesterday, young one, not sure of how to break free or if I even want to break free." His eyes drifted toward the panoramic view beyond his window.

"Breaking free doesn't mean forgetting, Uncle. It just means that we put one foot in front of the other, each day becoming easier than the one before." She released his hand and reached into her handbag, pulling out an envelope.

She handed it to him and waited until he opened it. "They're pictures from the vacation you sent us on. I knew you would want some new ones to put on your desk and I thought the ones of the children playing on the beach would be perfect."

The Senator smiled at the photos; his grandchildren were smiling and playing without a care in the world.

"Their father should have been there," he murmured.

The young woman reached over and placed a comforting hand on his arm. "I went to the trial."

His eyes quickly readjusted to hers. "Oh, Mia, You shouldn't have put yourself through that."

Her smile was sad when she offered it in response. "I needed closure. Did you know that the young man was there too?"

Having captured his complete attention, he shook his head indicating that he hadn't known. He hadn't gone to the trial; he had been away on a business trip at the time.

"The judge allowed him to speak when Markus Traest's trial had ended. Uncle, that boy had been through so much while in that man's care. And from what I remember, he didn't want to commit the act that took my husband from me. I told him how thankful I was for saving my children and for making it so they still had at least one of us –"

"How could you thank that murderer?!" the Senator cut in, outraged. He stood, moving over to his desk.

She stood, choosing to stay near the sofa, and held up her hands to ward off his anger. "He's just a boy, Uncle! If you had seen how that madman used and manipulated him you would understand."

"Is that the excuse you give my grandchildren each night that you put them to bed? That's its okay their father isn't here anymore because the one who murdered him had a bad childhood?!"

"No, I choose to teach them forgiveness! I choose to teach them how to go on, how to live life to its fullest regardless of what this galaxy throws at them. I choose to honor my husband by continuing his teachings, instilling in them the morals and lessons he began." She quieted, waiting for some form of response. He stood next to his desk, leaning heavily upon it.

"You have to move on. If you don't, it will interfere with your relationship with the children. They're sensitive to your moods; they know that you carry this burden and they feel as though they should know how to make it better." She leaned over and picked up the handbag that had fallen from her lap when she stood. "I'm taking them to visit my parents on Alderaan. Please Uncle; please find some way to be at peace with this."

She walked over to him and hugged him, though he was tense and stiff in her embrace.

"I'm trying," he replied, his words meant to soothe her.

After his niece had left, he sat down at his desk and turned his chair around to face the wall sized window behind him. The spires stood in the distance, taunting him with the fact that one that had murdered his surrogate son lived within their walls.

His data console beeped, indicating a message had been transmitted. Scrolling through the memo, he smiled. "I am trying indeed."

X

Kale sighed with contentment when the ship broke through the atmosphere of Coruscant. They were finally home and the mission had been a success, even if there had been times that danger had come to close for comfort. He and Reed had managed to gain enough incriminating evidence to shut down the slave cartel the Senate had been investigating for over two years with nothing to show for it.

They had been away for close to six months. Coming home was always a pleasure, but just because they returned to their sanctuary didn't meant the mission left them: it was now time to put away the habits, tactics and characters they had had to adopt to achieve their goal. Kale had learned over the years to put his undercover personas into a box within his mind in order to reinsert himself into the environment that had produced the Jedi he had become. But sometimes the lid on that box would bulge and uncharacteristic traits would emerge, if only for a moment, before he could contain them once more. Having had Reed to set an example for over the years had helped Kale to quickly learn how to turn it off and on. The young man was a natural in this field and sometimes Kale wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Looking over to where the young Knight sat leaning back in the co-pilots chair, he wondered if Reed would have faired better with another master. The lines of fatigue around the younger man's eyes showed that the mission had been a hard one. The elder having witnessed unusual behaviors his former padawan had never before had to be put into practice. There was a faraway look in Reed's eyes, a look Kale knew all to well.

The cartel had been proud of their slaves and the means they had used to break them. Reed had been taken in and taught their methods, techniques that went against everything he believed and felt. And yet he had had to put this new found knowledge into practice: he had had to break in the newest slaves while Kale had been on the other end. The elder man had been taught what to look for in placing value on a potential slave: force-sensitives were highly sought after and brought in the highest price. Once he had been educated on pricing prospective merchandise, he had been thoroughly briefed on how to retrieve them.

Even knowing that the slaves would be freed once they had the evidence they needed to shut the operation down, he had still had to play his part. Having a child himself, Kale had refused to take children whether orphans or not, causing himself to come under suspicion and scrutiny. A month into the game Reed had found a way to get him alone in order to make him understand that if they didn't play by their rules then the mission would be for naught: they would never be in a better position than they were now to get the proof they needed in order to bring the authorities in. The haunted look in the young man's eyes told Kale that Reed had been playing his part to perfection. Nodding in acquiesce, knowing that his padawan was right, he reached into himself and built a wall around his conscience. If he had to feel, he knew there would be no way of moving forward.

A shift of clothing beside him pulled him out of his thoughts. Reed tiredly reached over to the control panel and aided his mentor in bringing the ship into the docking bay. They were both in need of Hebsley's services. Neither had informed anyone of their return, not knowing when the actual event would occur. Like so many other missions, they flew in under the cover of night. By allowing the authorities, who were aware of who they were, to arrest them and take them in for questioning – receiving the same treatment as all the others – allowed them to escape from each mission and return home.

X

Qui-Gon awoke to the familiar presence of someone in his apartment. Rising from his sleep couch, he donned a robe before entering the common area. When he didn't see anyone in the room, he walked toward the end of the hallway that led to the second bedroom. Entering, he noticed that Obi-Wan was sound asleep, lying on his stomach, his limbs stretched this way and that. On the chair near the desk that sat against the wall, Kale sat watching the youth. The site of his son warmed his heart, helping to remind him of why he took the missions he did, helping to remind him of what they were all fighting for in the first place – a better life for those in the galaxy.

Having seen that look in Kale's eyes one too many times, Qui-Gon left the room to make some tea. His friend would be out when he was ready.

An hour later, the Jedi walked into the kitchen and took a seat at the table across from his colleague. Gratefully accepting the cup of warm liquid that was placed in front of him he took a long drink, savoring the feeling of warmth it instilled as it went down.

"How is he?" The words were quiet, hushed so not to wake the young man in the next room.

"He's well." Qui-Gon replied and then noted, "You're shielding…why?"

"He's got himself tuned in to the minute I enter atmosphere. I didn't want to wake him."

"Didn't want to wake him or didn't want to explain the mission?" Qui-Gon inquired gently.

Taking a deep breath, Kale shook his head. "Maybe both." He looked up at his friend, his eyes pleading for some kind of insight that would explain why the galaxy was the way it was.

"I understand the need for what we do. But I don't understand how they think that we can do this time and again and have these events not permanently affect us." Kale shook his head with disgust while wiping a hand over his face. Resting the limb on the table next to the cup encased in his other hand, he noted, "Hebs can only do so much and then what? Has the Council even thought about that? What happens when one of us returns unrepairable due to the things we've seen or what we've had to do or become?"

Qui-Gon nodded. This conversation was one they had had one too many times before, but this time the accusations were somewhat harsher than all the others. Qui-Gon knew his friend would work hard to bring himself and Reed out of the depths of misery and doubt that this assignment had instilled. If for no other reason that the two young men who needed him, Kale would once again rise above the self-reproach his undercover persona had inflicted on his heart.

"Perhaps you should rest, my friend. You can sleep in the living area if need be, otherwise I'll send Obi-Wan to your quarters when he wakes."

Kale shook his head. "I don't think I could sleep if I tried." Waving his friend away, the Jedi assured him, "Go back to bed. I'll just sit here for a while."

Knowing a dismissal when he heard one, Qui-Gon reluctantly returned to his bedroom to try to get some sleep.

X

The sunlight slipped around the small blanket covering the window and peered through a slit on the edge. Dancing happily at the accomplishment, it ever so slowly slithered across the room until it fell across the face of the sleeping occupant. Obi-Wan moaned and turned away from the offending beam. He had thought he had outsmarted the ever scheming shaft of light that seemed to get through or around whatever barrier he encased over the window. The light, now shining over the back of his head reflected off the white wall to which his face was turned. The echo, though not as bright, still managed to bother the teen. Throwing a hand over his eyes helped momentarily until he needed a change of position.

Opening his eyes, he blearily looked around and saw that the sunlight had not managed to shine at the other end of the bed. Deciding to change directions, he scooted himself around until he was facing the opposite end. He attempted to drift back to sleep when he heard something move on the floor. Looking over the side of his sleep couch, his eyes widened at seeing his father asleep on the hardened surface, a couch cushion under his head and the afghan from the back of the sofa covering him.

I wonder when he got in. Fatigue momentarily forgotten, Obi-Wan rested his head on one arm and watched as Kale slept. The elder man slept on his back, his face turned toward the bed with one hand haphazardly thrown over his head, the other hand resting on his stomach. He had grown a dense beard while away. Obi-Wan's brow furrowed in contemplation at the new look. Not ever having seen Kale with any kind of facial hair, he didn't think it fit his father at all.

Noticing the black dye the man had used to change his hair color for the mission, the teen wondered if it would wash out quickly or if it would take time to gradually change back. The youth regarded his father, taking in the lines around his eyes and mouth, the darker shade of his skin from having been out in the sun on whatever planet he had been on, the dry roughed up skin on the backs of his hands and the dark colored rumpled civilian clothing he wore. The anxiety he had felt at his father's absence began to dissipate; gratitude that his father had finally returned filling in the gap. A yawn escaped him and his eyes blinked several times; within minutes, the youth had fallen back to sleep.

Two hours passed before one of the occupants began to stir. Kale had long ago forced himself to remember where he was at all times: it would do him no good to wake on a mission thinking he was home or vice versa. Taking in the serenity of his colleague's apartment, he finally stretched his senses outward, his eyes still closed. Feeling a weight on his upper arm, he opened his eyes and turned toward the sensation. Obi-Wan was asleep, his head resting on the edge of the bed, his arm dangling from the side and his hand clutching the fabric of his father's tunic. Kale smiled a real, unguarded smile. He hadn't had such a reason to do so in too long.

Turning onto his side, mindful of the grasp his son had on his arm, he studied the sleeping youth. It was rare that the elder man was granted an opportunity to observe Obi-Wan in an unguarded moment. Even with the advances the young man had made and the emotional healing that had taken place and was still occurring, he still projected a façade that kept others from getting too close. But times like now allowed the real Obi-Wan to shine through in all his glory. A privilege only his family was allowed to witness. The youth's hair had been trimmed to a shorter version of what it had been: he looked clean cut, his hair no longer shaggy and untamed.

Another hour had passed before Kale decided it was time to get up and tend to his needs: the fresher was calling. He gently extracted his arm from Obi-Wan's grasp and covered the youth before leaving the room. When he stepped into the hallway, the aroma attempted to pull him away from his destination. Having finished in the fresher he made his way to the kitchen and found Qui-Gon cooking.

Without turning the elder man addressed his friend. "Did you sleep well?"

Kale walked over and got a cup of java before sitting down at the table. "Quite well actually," he replied, his tone somewhat surprised at the realization.

Qui-Gon turned and a small smile tugged at his lips. "Sometimes all one needs is the comfort of family."

"I think I understand now why he used to get into bed with Cera and me after he had a bad dream."

"Speaking of Cera," Qui-Gon began. "During his meditation, the force blessed Obi-Wan with a vision."

Interested, Kale leaned forward waiting for the other man to continue.

"It would seem she had her own ideas of what should go into Obi-Wan's decision making process in regard to the offer the council made him."

Kale's brow furrowed in thought. "And?"

Qui-Gon shrugged. "He didn't go into detail, but he was in high spirits after the incident."

"Has he said anything one way or the other?"

"He's made his choice," Qui-Gon replied, his tone lacking any emotion, having had time to come to terms with the young man's decision.

The object of their conversation walked into the kitchen, fixed himself a cup of java and then turned and leaned back against the counter. Rubbing a hand over tired features, he yawned.

"Good morning, young one…or should I say afternoon?" Qui-Gon smirked at the look of confusion on the youth's face. "It's one o'clock, Obi-Wan. The two of you slept well past breakfast."

Looking over to the stove, Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief. He had always had trouble starting the day, no matter what time he awoke, if he didn't eat first meal rations. "Thank you for cooking breakfast."

"You're quite welcome." Qui-Gon stood and went over to the cabinet to take down three plates. Moving over to the stove he began dividing the food when he heard a chair scrape against the floor. Turning just enough to observe what was going on, he saw Kale move over to his son and grasp hold of the braid that now hung behind his right ear.

The elder man looked into his son's eyes, momentarily speechless. When Obi-Wan offered a hesitant smile, Kale asked, "Does this mean what I think it does?"

The young man looked at Qui-Gon and then back to his father. "The Council and I each had to give in on a few concessions, but overall we came to an agreement." When Kale didn't say anything, Obi-Wan began to fidget. "Dad?"

His father's eyes searched his. "Is this truly what you wanted."

Obi-Wan nodded. "It is."

"I would have been proud even if you hadn't of chosen this path." Kale searched Obi-Wan's gaze. "You do know that don't you?"

The young man nodded. "I know. Mom reminded me that this is your family; they raised you into who you've become." The youth smiled and then shrugged self consciously. "That makes them my family too."

Kale smiled. "I'd like to hear about your vision."

Obi-Wan moved away from his father and sat down at the kitchen table. Gesturing to the seat across from him, he said, "Have a seat. I'll tell you while we eat."

-The End-

A/N: When I finished posting 'He Calls Me Son' on the other site I write at, I started a sequel. I'm going to get back to working on it and hopefully start posting it soon. Does a sequel interest anyone?

I sincerely hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! :)

Since this is the last chapter, it would be great to hear from those who have been reading.

I want to thank those who have replied; I so appreciate you taking the time to let me know your thoughts on the story!

Have a great rest of the day! :)