Archive of Our Own ^beta

Obi-Wan hadn’t expected a warm welcome. Over the years, he’d come to never expect a warm welcome, no matter where he was or who he was talking to. It was just safer to assume his presence was, at best, tolerated.

Admittedly, he did know that wasn’t quite right. He knew, logically, that he had friends who would welcome his company and have comfortable, familiar conversation with him. Bant and Garen were good examples of this. Quinlan, while irritating, also considered Obi-Wan a friend and happily spent time with him. Plo and Deppa and Shaak were good friends, too.

And that wasn’t counting his former padawan and grandpadawan, and his friends outside the Jedi Order.

Despite all of that, however, Obi-Wan knew better than to expect anyone to be immediately happy upon his- his return.

This mission had been a success, at least. It had gone off almost without a hitch and the Chancellor was safe, just as everything was supposed to be.

Some parts of being Hardeen had been freeing. That had been one of the last things Obi-Wan expected to gain from the experience. It had been surreal and thrilling to be someone else. To do something that wasn’t the same thing he did every day of his life. To be away from the war for just a few days.

The rest of it, however…

Oh, Obi-Wan had hated it. The disregard for life and other sentients. The pain he’d caused. The people he’d hurt…

He had intentionally played off of Anakin’s emotions. He’d used the bonds he had with his friends and family to make his “death” look believable.

The Council made sure to send Cody and the rest of the 212th off on a mission while he was being shot by a criminal, to keep Obi-Wan’s men out of the way.

It was awful.

He was awful.

How could he possibly do this to them? How could he hurt Anakin and Ahsoka this way? They were his family! His brother, his granddaughter, his friends. How could he let himself and the Council lie to Cody like that? How could he allow his love to be sent away on a mission just to make it easier to get himself “killed”?

No, what Obi-Wan had done was unacceptable. What he’d let happen was reprehensible.

Obi-Wan didn’t expect a warm welcome.

And he didn’t get one.

*

Anakin almost punched him. Obi-Wan almost wished that he had. It would have hurt less than what his former padawan actually did.

He bore the brunt of Anakin’s full-blown anger. He was loud and red in the face with yelled hurt words and accusations. Anakin paced back and forth, throwing his hands through the air, hands clenching into fists almost spastically. Obi-Wan hadn’t seen his former padawan this upset- almost ever.

As a kid, Anakin had been quiet and sweet, eager to please and attached to Obi-Wan’s hip. As the years went by, he became louder, but more sullen. Quick to anger and easily annoyed with Obi-Wan, no matter what he tried to say.

Obi-Wan had suffered through more than one rant and anger-fueled emotion bomb. But none had ever been quite this… intense.

As Anakin sucked in a breath, Obi-Wan took his opportunity to speak.

His voice was still a little weird, recovering from the voice changer. His hair was all but missing; short and stubbly and looking nearly blond. His beard was barely even scruff.

“I’m sorry,” he implored. “I hadn’t meant to hurt you, Anakin, I swear-”

“You hadn’t?” Anakin accused. “Because I thought that was the whole point of not telling us!”

Obi-Wan flinched.

The Council’s goal had been to use Anakin’s reaction to sell the ruse.

“Anakin-”

“No,” the younger man snarled. “I don’t want to hear it. You lied to me. You lied to everyone!”

“I was just-”

“Sometimes I wonder if any of this would have happened if Master Qui-Gon was still alive.”

Obi-Wan felt the breath get punched out of his lungs, despite the fact that Anakin hadn’t even touched him. He stared, wide-eyed and stunned, at the man he’d trained. The man he considered his brother and his best friend.

He swallowed, fighting to be able to breathe again.

Anakin didn’t know how much that hurt. He didn’t know everything that lay behind those words. He didn’t know. He didn’t know. He didn’t know-

Because you didn’t tell him.

And wasn’t that the hard, honest truth.

Even if he had, would it have mattered? Anakin was aiming for sore points, Obi-Wan knew. He was angry and hurt and he wanted Obi-Wan to hurt too. He wanted Obi-Wan to understand the agony he’d just been put through.

Anakin walked away, taking Ahsoka with him, not knowing Obi-Wan already knew the hell he’d put everyone through with this stunt.

*

Cody actually had punched Obi-Wan.

The marshal commander’s fist connected squarely with the Jedi’s jaw, sending him reeling to the side. Obi-Wan caught himself easily, used to being punched. But he had to admit he wasn’t used to being punched by his partner.

There was a collective intake of breath from all around them.

They were standing in the middle of the hangar. Obi-Wan had just arrived on the cruiser, to check on his troops. They had returned just an hour ago from the mission they’d been sent on. Now, they were scheduled for planet-side leave for a couple weeks for rest and recuperation. It was as much for the men as it was for him.

Every trooper in the hangar stopped what they were doing and stared with wide eyes. Obi-Wan could tell, even if most of the men were wearing their helmets. No one dared more or even breathe.

Obi-Wan recovered and straightened. His jaw ached and stung, but he kept his hands at his sides and resisted the urge to cradle his already-bruising cheek. The least he could do was face Cody with dignity and look him in the eyes, instead of acting like a kicked puppy.

Cody was fuming. Obi-Wan could nearly see the smoke rising from his partner- commander’s ears.

“Meg te gerka?” Cody growled out, voice raised and ringing through the hangar. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m-”

“Ke’pare. Wait, just-” Cody scrubbed a hand across his face. “You’re alive?”

Obi-Wan nodded, mutely.

He wasn’t sure anything else he had to say would be welcome.

Cody glared, eyeing him up and down.

“How?”

Short and sweet, Obi-Wan, he reminded himself.

“Bullet-proof vest and a drug to slow my heart-rate.”

Cody’s expression hardened.

“You lied to us,” he stated coldly. “We were told you were dead while we were on a campaign. Do you know what that means?”

Obi-Wan didn’t even get a chance to respond before Cody was continuing, his voice raising even further. Angry tears were pooling in the corners of his eyes now.

“We lost brothers out there who thought you were marching ahead of them,” he explained. His throat was tight. “Men who thought they would see you when they passed on.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes began to sting at the realization.

“I said remembrances for you every. Night.”

Cody took a step closer to him. Obi-Wan did his best to quell the instinct to tug his partner into a comforting embrace. It wouldn’t help this situation.

He couldn’t stop himself from taking a step back.

“I’m sorry-” he muttered, throat equally as tight as Cody’s.

“Dont,” Cody gritted out at him.

“Don’t you dare apologize.”

Obi-Wan felt his jaw snack shut with a click. His cheek ached even more, feeling stiff. It was probably swelling.

Cody sucked in an unsteady, shaking breath. He straightened, and schooled his expression into one of an emotionless Commander. When he spoke again, it was with an almost droid-like efficiency.

Obi-Wan hated himself for the comparison.

“Was your mission a success?”

Obi-Wan nodded, his cheeks burning in shame.

“Yes,” he supplied. “It was.”

Cody nodded once, the motion curt and quick.

“I’ll be attending to my duties if you need me, General,” he told him automatically. As he turned away, body stiff and tense, he added: “Try not to need me.”

Obi-Wan had meant to check on the men. He meant to help take stock of damages and the ship, do paperwork and take some of the load off Cody. He meant to check in with Blackberry in medical, make sure none of their men were in too dire of straits.

Instead, he found himself pushing down tears and repeating a line of the Code to himself as he made his way back off the cruiser.

There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no emotion, there is peace.

He could feel how unwelcome he was on his own flagship.

*

Ahsoka wasn’t talking to him and Obi-Wan didn’t blame her.

Rex tolerated his presence as a High Jedi General, but had also had his own things to say about the situation. Obi-Wan didn’t begrudge him that.

Bant started crying upon seeing him but was ultimately more hurt than she was happy he wasn’t dead. She’d had words to say and since then, Obi-Wan had been staying out of her way.

Garen shot him a message that just said “i’m glad you’re not dead but i need time to think. we’ll talk later”.

Quinlan caught him in a hallway, heading to a Council meeting, and confronted him right then and there. He was all loud words and demands for answers. Not that Obi-Wan got an opportunity to offer any. Which was fine, he supposed. None of his answers so far had been welcome or acceptable, so he doubted anything he said to Quinlan would be any better.

The kiffar stormed off in a huff after Obi-Wan let him yell out the emotions he was suffering from. Then Obi-Wan continued on his way, heading for the Council chambers.

He was still wiping tears off his face the second before he opened the door and proceeded to his seat.

His fellow council members welcomed him warmly. Every one of them picked up on his distress easily, turning concerned and knowing eyes on him immediately.

He took a breath, strengthened his shields again, and lied through his teeth when Shaak asked if he was okay.

By the end of the meeting, Obi-Wan realized he was angry too.

He was angry with Mace and Yoda, who had pushed so hard for him to agree to the mission in the first place. He was angry with Saesee’s indifferent attitude to Obi-Wan’s less than warm welcome back. He was angry with Ki Adi’s insistence that the mission had been important and that the success of it had been worth all the discomfort it caused.

As if Obi-Wan’s only problem was his slowly regrowing hair and beard, not the loss of his friends and family and the love of his life.

He tried to tell himself that it wasn’t fair to be angry with them. He tried to remind himself that the mission had been important, and it wouldn’t have worked unless everyone thought Obi-Wan was dead. He tried to believe that if it had been anyone else, that they wouldn’t be receiving such a warm welcome either. He tried to remind himself to act the good Jedi that he was, and release these emotions into the Force.

It didn’t help much.

Because the rest of the Council - the masters he considered friends - he couldn’t look at them. He couldn’t meet Plo’s gaze through his goggles, or Shaak’s gentle eyes.

They tried to catch him on his way out, but he ignored them all. He only had so many friends left, clearly, and he had to preserve those relationships as best he could. Obi-Wan had already ruined every other meaningful relationship he’d had in his life, he couldn’t let these ones go too. And the only way he could do that was by staying away.

If he wasn’t around them, he couldn’t do anything to make them hate him too.

And Obi-Wan already hated himself. If everyone else did as well…

He wasn’t sure he could survive it.

*

As time went on, the situation didn’t get better.

He messaged Dex, letting his friend know he was alive and apologizing for any grief he put him through. The Besalisk’s response was short and sweet.

“Good.”

Obi-Wan knew he fucked that one up too. Dex was never so formal and brief in his messages, especially when Obi-Wan hadn’t reached out for a while.

Padme greeted him with a smile, but treated him more like a colleague she didn’t want to admit she was upset with than a friend. Bail was much the same.

After two weeks, when his leave from the war was up, he found himself completely alone.

His men listened to orders, but didn’t acknowledge him otherwise. His childhood friends were hurting and upset. Anakin was still angry and took pleasure in reminding Obi-Wan of that every now and again. Ahsoka watched him with sad, pained eyes that flickered away any time he took notice.

Cody never called him anything other than “general” or “sir”, and he avoided Obi-Wan in his off time like he was the plague. He’d removed everything of his (not that he owned much) out of Obi-Wan’s cabin and never appeared there in the middle of the night like he used to.

But Obi-Wan didn’t get punched again.

He wasn’t convinced that was a good thing.

It was getting harder and harder to focus.

He couldn’t sleep at night and there was no time to nap during the day. Food, while typically unpleasant due to being wartime rations, was even less appealing now. He could hardly force himself to eat half a meal before deciding he was done.

He was sure if he ate another bite, his body would revolt and bring it all back up anyway.

Planning meetings were nightmares. Anakin didn’t want to listen to anything he said and no one backed him up either. So the plans they made weren’t the most efficient, if only because Anakin got the final say and Obi-Wan couldn’t do anything to reel his former padawan back in like this.

Luckily, their casualty rates didn’t jump, so Obi-Wan could deal with it for now.

Unfortunately, the plan for their current assignment was less than ideal. It put several squads of shinies directly in harm’s way, and Obi-Wan just wouldn’t stand for that.

He threw himself into the fray, drawing attention away from the unpainted troopers. Thankfully, it worked.Obi-Wan blocked and dodged blaster bolts left and right, twisting and turning and letting the Force guide his saber.

Of course, luck could only take him so far, and he hadn’t slept right in days. His blood sugar was low and his vision was going oddly dark and fuzzy. The world spun uncomfortably on its axis, knocking Obi-Wan off balance.

Blaster bolts streaked past him in fizzling red blazes. They seared multi-colored lines and spots across his vision, making it even harder to see.

Several voices shouted in surprise behind him, calling him back. But that couldn’t be right.

This was where he should be, right? He should be protecting the men. If he didn’t protect them, they would die!

He turned around to tell the voices that, but several hot blasts punched into him from nowhere.

Obi-Wan cried out, crumpling to the ground. His vision went fully dark tehn, but maybe that was because his eyes were closed. Were they closed? He couldn’t tell.

A spot on his bicep screamed in unison with the ones across his chest and stomach and the one on his thigh. He was hot and burning, sweating through his clothes. Or maybe that was blood…?

Hands landed on him, too many to be just one person. Voices yelled around him, but none of the words made sense.

A numb nothingness pulled at him, promising relief. It spoke of rest, of leaving behind all the pain and fatigue.

Something about it felt familiar. Like a friend or a presence that had been with him all his life. It was calm and friendly, warm and welcoming. Inviting, even.

Maybe just for a minute, he decided. He could listen for a moment at least.

He let the feeling wash over him. The hands fell away, taking the pain with them.

*

Word of Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi going down on the battlefield spread through the troops and the Temple like wildfire. Some, far removed from the action, didn’t know whether or not to believe this information. It had only been a month or so since the last time the Jedi had “died”, so they would wait to see how valid this new claim was.

Of course, the firsthand reports went straight to the Council.

The emotions in the Council Chambers had never felt quite so messy. Well, not in Mace Windu’s opinion. Of course, there had been plenty of discourse in this room. It had seen more than one difficult decision and distraught Jedi.

But the day Obi-Wan went into a coma had to be one of the worst days.

Obi-Wan went into bacta as soon as his battalion’s medics assessed him. He spent several days in the tank, healing. Everything went according to plan and by the end of the week, they were removing him to sleep off the remaining sedatives in a cot in the Negotiator’s medbay.

But then, he didn’t wake up. They waited for exactly two days, long enough for the sedatives to be well out of his system, and then decided something was wrong.

The Council ordered the 212th back to Coruscant immediately, then anxiously awaited their return.

Healer Che currently stood before them, frowning at the charts and results on her datapad.

“As far as I can tell, he’s healthy,” she told them, shaking her head. “He could do to put on a little weight, and he probably needs to eat more, but otherwise, he’s fine.”

“So…” Anakin prompted from the side of the room. Mace reigned in the spike of annoyance the out-of-turn comment invoked.

“So I have no idea what could be physically wrong with him,” Che decided. She looked up and levelled the occupants of the room with a Look. “Judging from the brief meditations I’ve been able to do so far, his coma isn’t induced by anything that’s wrong with his body.”

“So you’re saying that nothing’s wrong with him,” Saesee Tiin concluded, only sort of making that statement a question.

Che turned a sharp eye on him.

“That’s not what I said. There’s something wrong mentally. I’ve tried to get past his shields, but even unaware of the world as he is, they’re strong. I’ve never seen shields like these before.”

Mace nodded in acknowledgement.

“Do you think this is intentional? That he might subconsciously know what he’s doing?” he asked of the healer.

The twi’lek shook her head carefully.

“No, it would be easier to reach him, I think.” She shifted, clutching her datapad to his chest in a different position. “I think the Force is doing this.”

A wave of discontent and confusion rippled through the Council Chambers.

Yoda quieted everyone with a gentle word and a raised hand.

“For what reason, do you think, the Force is doing this?” the old master inquired.

Che’s eyes hardened so subtly, Mace wasn’t sure if he imagined it or not.

“I think it’s protecting him.”

“From what?” Skywalker asked.

Mace wasn’t annoyed this time.

“Only the Force or Obi-Wan himself could tell us that,” she concluded. “I can come up with possibilities, but they would all be guesses.”

Mace gestured for her to go ahead. “What could they be?”

Che huffed.

“He stressed, he’s working too hard, his caseload is too much, you ask impossible things of him-”

“Master Che!”

“Vokara!”

The healer was completely unfazed by the reprimanding.

“I call ‘em like I see ‘em,” she offered, unperturbed.

“Thank you, Master Che,” Mace said, giving the twi’lek Jedi a carefully neutral dismissal. “Please let us know if there are any changes.”

She nodded and bowed, then backed out of the room. Vokara Che disappeared through the large wooden doors, likely to return to her patients in the Halls of Healing.

There was silence for a moment.

Mace looked around at the other Council members. They were all concerned, he could feel it through the Force. Plo and Shaak were visibly much more upset by the situation than some of the others.

The guests at the side of the room stood in a group, looking a mixture of worried and carefully neutral.

Yoda seemed to come to the same decision Mace would have a second before he got a chance.

“Speak to each of you, we will. Wait in the antechamber, you will,” the little old troll told them. Before anyone could move, he continued. “Skywalker. First, you are.”

Surprisingly, the young knight bowed his head in a semi-respectful manner and moved back to the center of the room. The rest of the group, composed of clones and other Jedi, shuffled out of the chamber dutifully.

The questioning didn’t last very long, as apparently no one had much to say. No one had any idea what could have happened in Obi-Wan’s personal life that could have upset him enough to make the Force put him in a coma. They admitted they had perhaps been paying less attention to him than usual, but that he hadn’t seemed to act too far out of the ordinary.

Mace got the feeling they weren’t hearing the whole truth. No one lied to them, least of all the clones, but something was being held back. They were hearing the truth, but not all of it.

He wouldn’t call them on it now. They would need to look into the matter further on their own as council members. But there was something there that they didn’t know.

*

Two days later, Mace, Yoda, Deppa, Plo, and Ki Adi met in Obi-Wan’s healing room. Healer Che kept a close eye on them for the first few moments, protective as she always was of her patients, but she backed off soon enough.

Their plan was to sit and meditate together on Obi-Wan’s mind. Perhaps if five masters tried to get through Obi-Wan’s (the Force’s?) shields, they would get a better idea of what had happened to lead them to this place.

No one said much as they sat in a ring on the floor. Plo and Deppa, the two closest to the youngest council member, took his hands in theirs as they settled in to meditate.

Mace breathed deeply, sinking further into his mind and the Force.

Obi-Wan was a bright, but oddly muted, light hovering nearby. Mace approached cautiously, immediately noticing how Obi-Wan’s shields were different than they usually were. Their construction was odd and foreign, as if they’d been broken down and built again, but not by the same person. As if they’d crumbled under their own weight, and something else came in to fix them with a mortar that didn’t quite match the original.

Mace felt the others join him, and they focused together on the shields, looking for ways in.

There were none. No chink in the armor, no chips or cracks or holes. The shields were perfect in every sense of the word.

How Vokara had managed to glimpse anything from Obi-Wan was beyond Mace.

A hummed little whisper seemed to press at his mind.

Ask.

Ask and we might let you see.

Mace knew that feeling.

It was the Force. Concentrated and saturated. Present. Solid.

Mace had never felt it like this.

He sensed the others hearing the same voice.

”Could we see him, please?” Plo’s signature inquired gently. ”He’s our friend. We want to help him.

The Force flared slightly, turning uncomfortably warm and cold for a moment before settling.

Not all of you have in the past, it accused.

”True, that is,” Yoda admitted. ”Wish to right that and help him now, we do.”

The Force hummed in acknowledgement and shifted around them tensely. It inspected them, searching their own shields and pressing into their minds carefully, before retreating.

Obi-Wan’s shields dimmed, showing off what remained of their original foundations. It was painful to look at. They were broken and torn, hastily reformed again and again, just to be knocked down and rebuilt again. Mace couldn’t even begin to imagine what kind of damage could cause that.

Quicky, the Force said. But don’t dive too deep. You may lose yourselves.

Mace didn’t like the sound of that, but they continued forward nonetheless.

*

Obi-Wan’s mind was in tatters. His emotions, strong enough to make Mace feel like he was choking, were volatile and wild. Waves of grief and loss, anger and sadness pummelled him and his fellow councilors off kilter.

His memories weren’t hard to find. They raced across his mind, one after another and never in order.

Mace watched as Obi-Wan was pushed down by a creche-mate as a youngling, then dutifully blocked out the memory immediately after it of Obi-Wan and Commander Cody together. That wasn’t what they were there for.

A memory of Skywalker yelling at Obi-Wan appeared, pulling them all into it.

”I’m sorry. I hadn’t meant to hurt you, Anakin, I swear-”

”You hadn’t? Because I thought that was the whole point of not telling us!”

Mace felt himself flood with guilt that wasn’t his own.

”Anakin-”

”No, I don’t want to hear it. You lied to me. You lied to everyone!”

”I was just-”

”Sometimes I wonder if any of this would have happened if Master Qui-Gon was still alive.”

Mace felt his own breath leave him, unsettling his connection to Obi-Wan.

The memory was gone as fast as it had come, replaced by more. A fist decking Obi-Wan across the jaw, explaining those bruises Mace had noticed weeks ago. Yelled words in Mando’a and cold, distant tones. Flashes of angry and unreturned messages flashes across Mace’s eyes.

At any moment, the helplessness and hopelessness threatened to choke him and sink him like a boat with a hole.

The memories didn’t stop. They came continuously, showing off moments not just from the past month, but also from decades ago. Mace saw Obi-Wan as a newly knighted Jedi and a little padawan learner. He saw glimpses of Melida/Daan and snippets of Obi-Wan’s time on Mandalore. He saw failed projects and disappointed looks and tones. Training katas far longer than was recommended or necessary. Taking harsher criticism than any child should ever have to endure.

There were seizure-like vision-induced episodes that Mace remembered Obi-Wan experiencing as a youngling. Those had been frightening, and now he knew exactly how awful they’d been for Obi-Wan as a young boy.

Mace lost track of the memories, everything blurring together slightly. It took a gentle but urgent tug on his mind to realize he was beginning to drown in them all. The emotions were tugging him down, as if to keep him forever.

Surfacing from his meditative state was harder than it should have ever been.

But once he was finally aware of himself again and opened his eyes to the rest of the room, he noticed the tears blurring his vision. His throat was tight. His head ached. There was wetness all down his cheeks and drying uncomfortably on his chin.

The others around him weren’t in better states.

Yoda cleared his throat harshly, wiping a clawed, wrinkled hand against his face.

“Understand what happened, I think we do,” he choked out gruffly.

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Mace turned his eyes back to Obi-Wan, surveying his face. The younger man looked peaceful in sleep. His slack expression betrayed nothing of the warring, pained emotions broiling inside.

Jedi were taught to release their emotions into the Force, but he supposed there were some things that were hard to let go of. And sometimes, he supposed, the Force chose which ones to take and which ones to make you keep.

The Force had decided, at some point, that Obi-Wan would be better off in its own care than his own.

“We need to talk to the others again,” Plo offered, sounding a little too worse for wear behind his mask.

Mace agreed wholeheartedly.

*

Plo sat almost passively as Obi-Wan’s friends and family were brought before them once again. They stayed as a group this time, seated in the middle of the floor as Mace and Yoda spoke, explaining the situation.

“Under the Force’s protection, Obi-Wan assuredly is,” Yoda announced, as much to their guests as to the rest of the council.

“What does that mean, exactly?” Shaak asked from Plo’s side. Her projection flickered slightly then settled again.

Mace leaned forward, hands clasped. “Exactly what Master Che had guessed. The Force has deemed Obi-Wan incapable of even his own self-care and has placed him directly under its own protection.”

“That’s possible?” Captain Rex spoke up, sounding bewildered.

Sometimes Plo had to remind himself how little the clones and other civilians understood about the Force. And sometimes he was reminded how little they themselves understood the Force, even as Jedi.

Mace nodded.

“It seems that way, yes.”

“What does that mean?” Ahsoka spoke up from her spot near Plo’s feet. “What happened that the Force would have taken control like that?”

Mace frowned slightly deeper than he usually did.

“I think you all know,” he told them, “but are refusing to acknowledge it, even to one another.”

The whole group frowned, looking between themselves. Plo watched as Quinlan, Bant, and Garen all shared confused looks. Anakin frowned harder to himself as Ahsoka looked to Plo for an answer. He held a hand up to her briefly, encouraging the young padawan to wait for Mace to continue.

“It has come to our attention,” Mace spoke up, returning the room’s attention to him, “that there has been rather a lot of misplaced blame saddled on Obi-Wan in the past few weeks.”

As expected, Anakin responded first, biting words spilling past his lips.

“We were lied to,” he defended, his tone guarded. “He let us all believe he was dead. We attended a funeral for him!”

“Some of us did,” Cody muttered darkly.

Plo’s eyes widened behind his goggles.

Force, if that wasn’t true. They’d intentionally sent the 212th away and told them while they were occupied off-world about what had happened to their general.

That particular part of the plan Plo had not agreed with. But unfortunately, he’d been outvoted.

Mace had the sense to at least look remorseful at the commander’s remark.

“We are sorry about that, Commander,” Mace said, sincerity clear in his voice.

Cody didn’t look convinced. Plo didn’t blame him.

“You don’t understand,” Deppa cut in suddenly. “What you were doing to him? It was killing him. He could have died.”

Plo watched several people’s faces go suddenly very ashy and pale.

“What?” Ahsoka choked out.

Plo sighed.

“Obi-Wan is a very strong person,” he admitted. “But things still get to him. And when his entire support system suddenly shuns him, he has no one to turn to.”

Ahsoka turned big blue eyes on him.

“Did you…?”

Plo shook his head.

“No, I didn’t. We were all in on the plan, so we knew from the beginning,” he explained. “But being there for him doesn’t mean anything when he actively avoids us.”

Anakin frowned harder.

“Then his ‘entire support system’ didn’t shun him-”

Plo was too tired and shaky still from the meditation session to deal with this shit today.

“We’ve been in his mind, Skywalker,” he reminded the young knight firmly. “He avoided those of us who didn’t walk away because he’s certain he would do something eventually to make us hate him, too.”

Shock colored the group’s expressions.

“Hate him?”

“I don’t hate him-”

“I was just angry-”

“We were upset-”

“It hurt to be lied to-”

Plo held up a hand to stop them. Several mouths clicked shut.

“It does not matter what the truth may be,” he told them. “Obi-Wan believes that you all hate him. He believes that he has damaged the relationships between you and him irreparably to the point none of you ever want anything to do with him again.”

Commander Cody, especially, looked gutted by this information.

“Regardless of whether or not you intended to talk to him later or work this out, he believes you hate him.”

“That’s what put him in a coma?”

“Not entirely.”

“But-”

“The Force found an opportunity, when he fell unconscious after being wounded, to take over. It wrapped his mind in protective layers that reinforced his own shields and kept him in a healing, comatose state,” Ki Adi Mundi told them. “It allowed us through its shielding to connect with Obi-Wan’s mind, and-”

The cerean faltered. Plo could hear how his throat closed around the sentence and choked him up.

“It’s bad,” Deppa supplied simply.

Plo nodded with Mace and Yoda in agreement.

“It was a lot,” Mace offered. “We saw a lot, and it wasn’t all just from this incident. There have been a lot of things adding up over the years to build to this point.”

“But this time was the worst,” Plo finished.

There was silence in the room for several long moments. Emotions rolled through the Force alarmingly, most of which consisted of guilt and sadness. But the anger remained too, not quite quelled by what they’d said.

“It still doesn’t change the fact that we were lied to,” Quinlan announced eventually.

Yoda nodded.

“Understandable, that is, young one,” the Grand Master said. “Obi-Wan’s choice, however, it was not.”

Plo watched the confusion and realization dawn equally on half the group’s faces.

“He let us believe he was dead-”

“Because he had to.”

“We made him.”

“Outvoted, he was.”

“The Senate wanted the Chancellor safe. They insisted on this plan, and Obi-Wan was the best person for the job. We all had reservations, but the Senate forced our hand. We took a vote whether to go through with the plan as it was or not, and he was outvoted. By a lot.”

“He didn’t want to keep you all in the dark.”

“We shouldn’t have sent you away, Commander,” Plo cut in, speaking directly to Cody. “And for that, we are truly sorry.”

Cody’s face flushed red, whether from shame or embarrassment, Plo couldn’t quite tell.

“Not enough of the blame you’ve placed on Obi-Wan has been placed on us.”

“Or, rather, too much of your anger at us has been taken out on Obi-Wan.”

Anakin shook his head, shocked and disbelieving.

“But- he didn’t- He never explained that-”

“You didn’t give him a chance,” Deppa reminded the group at large. “No one gave him a chance to explain himself or the Council’s actions and reasoning.”

“Stars,” Captain Rex sighed as he dropped his head into his hands. “We really karked up…”

“Yes,” Plo agreed on his own sad sigh. “We really did.”

The resulting silence stretched on as the information soaked in, allowing them all to process for a moment.

“So…” Ahsoka started hesitantly. “What now?”

Mace honest to Force shrugged at the padawan.

“There’s nothing we can do until he wakes,” he admitted. “Until the Force deems him fit to handle himself or us capable of taking care of him, all we can do is wait.”

Waiting didn’t actually seem to take long.

Mace’s communicator beeped not five seconds later.

He pulled out the little holodisk and accepted the call. A blue figure appeared in Mace’s palm, dressed in traditional Jedi tunics, but missing his robe.

“Ah, Master Feemor,” Mace acknowledged. “How goes your mission?”

Ah, of course. Feemor. Qui-Gon’s first padawan, now a master in his own right. Plo remembered him. He’d been a bright, happy kid and made a good knight after his apprenticeship. It was a shame he wasn’t around the Temple much anymore. But then again, it was a shame none of them were around the Temple as much anymore.

Feemor’s little blue figure bowed respectfully.

”Well, Master Windu,” the man replied. ”Actually, it’s finished. I was unable to reach you earlier when the negotiations were finished, but I’m on the transport back to the Temple now. We should be landing in just a moment.”

Mace nodded in acknowledgement.

”Would you like me to come up to the Council for a debriefing?”

“No,” Mace answered with a shake of his head. “We’re handling something else at the moment. Type up your mission report and we’ll call you in tomorrow for a meeting.”

Feemor bowed again, agreeing obediently.

“I await the Council’s summons, Master.”

With that, Feemor’s holo dissipated. Mace tucked the communicator back into his pocket.

Mace glanced around the room, pausing on Plo briefly, before moving on.

“I think there is still conversation we need to have about what will need to happen, moving forward,” he announced.

A wave of nods swept through the chamber.

“Unfortunately,” Plo pointed out, “we won’t actually know what we need to do until Obi-Wan wakes up again. We need to talk to him before any decisions can be made. A lot of what needs to happen is just- sitting down with Obi-Wan and having open conversations with him. And actually listening to what he has to say.”

Quite a few of Obi-Wan’s friends and family ducked their heads. Regret rolled out from the group in a wave, stronger from Cody and Rex for not having much shielding of their emotions.

“For now,” Yoda spoke up, “dismissed you are. Speak further on what to do, we will.”

The group seated on the floor began to stand silently, giving little nods of acknowledgement. They moved towards the door in almost a single file line.

Mace’s communicator chirped again.

This time, Healer Che appeared in blue holo form.

“Master Che-”

“Obi-Wan has woken up,” the twi’lek said without preamble.

The group stopped dead in their tracks.

”I don’t know why and I don’t know what’s changed, but he’s awake.”

Mace opened his mouth to say something, but Vokara cut him off.

”I’m keeping him in the Halls for a day of observation. In that time, I will not be allowing Obi-Wan any visitors.”

“What?” Anakin demanded, shocked and heading quickly towards outraged.

”I need an accurate read of his physical, mental, and emotional state,” the healer explained, her face neutral and tone no-nonsense. ”And I can’t do that if everyone’s coming in here and upsetting him.”

Anakin and Quinlan looked like they wanted to argue, as well as some of Plo’s fellow councilors, but Master Che didn’t give them a chance.

”My patient, my rules,” she decided, her voice firm and clear. ”Twenty four standard hours. No visitors. I will inform you when I have cleared him and released him from the Halls.”

Mace nodded, a sour look on his face.

“Very well, Master Che.”

”Good day, Masters.”

The holo cut out.

Everyone looked around uneasily for a moment. Then Mace turned his eyes on Anakin and the rest.

“You heard Vokara,” he told them. “No visitors. We will let you all know when you can see him.”

Plo watched as their visitors were dismissed again and left.

He had a bad feeling about this.

*

The next twenty four hours passed by as slow as molasses. Cody couldn’t focus on anything. He had shinies to put through training and reports to fill out and file. He had brothers to console and siblings to reassure.

He also had a partner - his cyare - who needed him, too. But he’d probably ruined that relationship.

It had hurt. It hurt worse than Cody had thought anything in the universe could hurt. He’d lost brothers left and right for two years now, and he’d gone through training on Kamino where vode disappeared and were never seen again. He’d been shot at, stitched up, blasted, and even cut up in his life, and nothing hurt the way being told Obi-Wan died had.

When he’d found out Obi-Wan was alive, and then seeing him appear on the Negotiator- that had hurt almost worse.

But Cody had been more than hurt. He was angry.

He didn’t want to hear excuses or apologies or anything else. He didn’t want to hear that Obi-Wan hadn’t meant to hurt him. He didn’t want pity or remorse.

He wanted Obi-Wan to feel how badly Cody hurt.

But, in the long run… He hadn’t been out to hurt Obi-Wan. He hadn’t meant to break off their entire relationship.

Cody just needed time to cool down and not do something stupid. He wanted to avoid hitting his partner again, because as good as it had felt in the moment, Cody hated himself for it. Maybe he’d thought before talking to the Council that the man had deserved it a little bit. But now, he knew Obi-Wan wasn’t to blame.

Obi-Wan was following orders, and-

Cody understood that more than anything. He and his brothers had no choice but to follow orders. It got them killed sometimes. Under the wrong commanding officer, even questioning orders could get a brother decommissioned.

Obi-Wan and Cody had had to make promises to each other at the start of their relationship. Duty had to come first. Obi-Wan was a Jedi, and now a High General. Cody was a Marshal Commander. Sometimes duty had to come before themselves or each other.

It hurt, but that was the truth. The gruesome reality of war.

As betrayed as Cody felt, he couldn’t imagine how lonely it must feel to have everyone you love and care about turn their backs on you for doing a duty you had no choice but to carry out.

He tried to keep himself busy, but it felt a bit like the hours would never pass.

By the time the next afternoon came around, however, it felt like he’d just been in the Council Chambers three minutes ago.

He got a message from General Plo, informing him Obi-Wan had been released from the Halls of Healing with a clean bill of health. He needed to eat more and get regular, adequate amounts of sleep, but he was otherwise physically healthy. And his mental health wasn’t a big enough concern to put him on a psych hold.

Cody bounded out of the communal barracks in a rather undignified manner.

He pulled up short, however, when his communicator chirped at him urgently.

“Go ahead,” he said into it quickly.

”Cody,” General Skywalker’s voice came through. ”Is Obi-Wan in the barracks?”

Cody frowned.

“No?” he said. “I’m on my way to the Temple, but I was just at the barracks. Unless he somehow got there after I left, he’s not there.”

Skywalker cursed.

“Why?” Cody asked. “I thought he was just released?”

The young general sighed.

”He was. But it was long enough ago that we can’t find him now. Ahsoka and I have checked his rooms, and he’s not there. Masters Windu and Koon have confirmed he’s not in the Council Chambers-”

Tano’s voice cut in, further away than Skywalker’s.

”Rex just told me he’s not in the barracks. And Fives says he’s not on the Resolute. Boil also said he hasn’t returned to the Negotiator.”

Cody’s stomach was sinking like a rock.

Was Obi-Wan deliberately hiding? Or was he just wandering around and lucky enough to avoid all of them?

”Vos, Eerin, and Muln are checking elsewhere around the Temple, so I’ll let you know if they find him,” General Skywalker continued. ”Could you head over to Dex’s, Cody? See if he went there?”

Cody nodded once, despite the Jedi being unable to see him.

“On my way, sir,” he said.

”Good. Keep us posted.”

The line cut out and Cody changed directions at a sprint, looking for a guard member to give him a ride or a cab.

*

“Obi-Wan?” Dexter said. “No, he hasn’t been in here yet.”

Cody’s heart sank.

“Keep waitin’ for him to stop by,” the besalisk continued, cleaning a plate. “Need to make ‘im a good meal. Bein’ dead’s gotta take a lot outta a person.”

Cody nodded, starting to feel an odd mixture of anxiety and dejected. Obi-Wan’s crechemates hadn’t found him anywhere in the Temple, either. Cody had gotten that message on his way to the diner.

Dex set down the plate he was drying to join Cody in the dining area.

“I feel bad, ‘cause the last time he messaged me, I’d been slammed. Hadn’t had much time to respond to messages, you know? Since then, I keep meanin’ to call ‘im, but I know he’s busy.”

Cody nodded, almost distracted.

He was listening. Really, he was. But unless Obi-Wan was wandering the streets of Coruscant, Cody couldn’t think of where he might be-

Fox.

“When you find ‘im,” Dex continued, “bring ‘im in if you got the time. Or have ‘im call me, yeah?”

Cody nodded again, giving the best smile he could muster. Dex’s returned expression said it came off a little sadder than Cody would have liked it to be.

“Yeah, of course. Thanks anyway, Dex.”

“Take care of yourself, Commander,” Dexter told him with a wink. He wrapped Cody in a quick, four-armed hug and then waved him off.

Outside on the street, Cody pulled out his communicator and tapped through his contacts. Fox’s was relatively far down on the list. They never had much chance to talk or see one another, so they didn’t call or message often.

The call picked up quickly.

”You’ve reached Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard. I hope this is urgent-”

“Fox!” Cody all but yelled into the speaker, not waiting for his brother to be finished.

Fox paused, his bored tone changing immediately.

”Cody? What’s wrong?”

“I need the Guard’s help.”

*

Obi-Wan was, in fact, not wandering the streets of Coruscant. The Guard confirmed it.

He was also still on-world, they were nearly positive. None of the Order’s ships were missing without the right documents and all that, so he didn’t just up and leave.

Padme and Bail confirmed he wasn’t with them, or in the Senate Building.

All the other battalions currently planet-side also reaffirmed that Obi-Wan was not in the barracks and that they hadn’t seen him.

No one had any idea where he could be.

Cody made his way back to the Temple with nothing else to do.

Where could he possibly have gone?

Just as Cody stepped up to the big, ornate entrance to the Jedi Temple, his comm chirped with an unread message. It was from General Skywalker.

Master Windu and I thought of one last place we haven’t checked. Meet us here

There was a long string of directions after that. Cody picked up the pace a little, striding confidently through the twists and turns of the Temple.

He’d not been in the hallway he was led to before. It wasn’t dark, as there were large windows lining one wall of the corridor, but it was deeper in the Temple than Cody had ever been.

The space carried with it a solemn feeling. One of acceptance, but also sadness.

Cody had a feeling he knew what the hallway held.

One door had a small crowd of people outside it, looking inside silently. Cody recognized Rex, Skywalker, and Tano, as well as Generals Windu, Koon, and Vos.

Cody joined them, just as silently. Rex signed at him to stay quiet.

The door they stood in front of was fully open, allowing some sunlight into the barely lit room. There were voices inside.

“I’m sorry we were never close,” Obi-Wan’s voice sighed, sounding wet and defeated. “I’m sorry I’m causing trouble now.”

Cody peered inside, careful to not block too much of the sunlight and alert the occupants of the room to his and the others’ presence.

Obi-Wan sat on the floor, in front of a glowing, white-ish yellow circle. Another man in robes sat at his side, an arm curled around Obi-Wan’s shoulders. The man was blond, with short hair. It was hard to tell in the lighting, but Cody thought the blond locks might have been graying a little bit.

The blond man shook his head and rubbed soothingly at Obi-Wan’s back.

“No, Obi,” he said. “That’s my fault. And you’re not causing trouble. None of this is your fault.”

Cody recognized that voice from yesterday. The short holocall General Windu had received just before dismissing them. Before Baar’ur Che called.

This was General Feemor.

Obi-Wan hunched further into himself at Feemor’s words.

“Yes it is,” he argued back. “Duty comes before everything, but I still have a conscience, don’t I? I could have objected, or said no-”

But… he did, didn’t he? The other Council members said so. They admitted Obi-Wan hadn’t wanted to go through with the plan.

“That’s what everyone says…” Obi-Wan finished.

Cody felt like he was going to be sick.

“It- I felt- I wasn’t given a choice, Feemor… Or it didn’t feel like I was.”

Obi-Wan sucked in a breath just to sigh it back out sadly. His voice was so small and sad. It broke Cody’s heart.

“Would I have been allowed to say no?” Obi-Wan asked of the man at his side.

Cody wondered what relation there was between his general and this Jedi.

Feemor was quiet for a moment, thinking, before he responded.

“I don’t think so,” he decided gently. “It was an impossible situation, Obi-Wan. And you were as much a victim as everyone else.”

“You didn’t see the way they looked at me, Fee.” Obi-Wan’s voice cracked. “They all hate me, and I don’t blame them. They deserve to hate me. I lied to them! I played with their emotions and made them believe I was dead, to sell the lie. They should hate me…”

Cody swallowed against the burning in his throat. It was tight and painful and threatened to choke him as he waited to hear what would come next.

“I hate me…” Obi-Wan whispered.

They could just barely hear it.

But the words were there nonetheless.

And Cody had no idea what to do.

Looking around subtly, no one else seemed to have any clue either.

Feemor shifted, pulling Obi-Wan closer and holding him in a familiar way. Cody recognized it as the way he would hold a lot of his own younger brothers. The way older siblings comforted their younger siblings - holding them close and shielding them from the world. As if you were the only barrier they would ever need to keep them safe.

Obi-Wan had mentioned once that the master who’d trained him had trained another padawan, years before Obi-Wan.

This must be him. The late Master Jinn’s first padawan.

This was Obi-Wan’s older brother, in every way that would ever count.

As the older Jedi moved, he caught sight of Cody and the rest from the corner of his eye. He turned his face fully toward them, careful not to give anything away to Obi-Wan as he did so.

The frown on the blond man’s face was almost scarily menacing.

Slowly, he shook his head at them. His eyes talk as well as his mouth would, tell them no. Not right now. You did this and you don’t get to talk to him right now.

When he spoke again, it was directed at Obi-Wan, despite how his eyes stayed on the group at the door.

“It is not your fault, Obi-Wan,” he assured again, firm as anything. “Regardless of what everyone else thinks, I’m going to be right here.”

Obi-Wan shoulders began to shake, soft sounds escaping him. He pressed closer to his older brother, crying openly.

Feemor clutched him even tighter and looked away from the door. It was a dismissal if Cody had ever seen one.

“I’m not going anywhere,” the man promised.

Cody knew he wouldn’t.

It wasn’t them Obi-Wan needed now, in the wake of their rejection of him. It was Feemor. His brother. His friend. The one person who hadn’t turned on him when he needed him most.

Cody walked away with everyone else, leaving the two Jedi alone together.

Obi-Wan needed to heal from what they’d said and done to him. But it certainly wasn’t them he needed to help him heal.

Not right now.