I have this speedily written one-shot for you that I wanted to write yesterday and then got distracted. So, instead, you get this right before I have to leave for work!
It takes place not long after Qui-Gon’s death in TPM.
Read on ao3
Tag List: @tjfinnigan @ewanmcgregorismyhomeboy12 @yellowisharo
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His mind felt light and airy. His body was numb, though he distantly thinks he should be feeling...something.
Something...like pain? Perhaps exhaustion?
Or, was this feeling the exhaustion?
Whatever it was, he thought he should have felt the floor beneath his boots as he walked. Maybe even the strain of carrying a body in his arms.
He...felt none of that.
The moments before now were slightly fuzzy. As though he had been half-asleep.
He hadn’t been, though. He knew that.
“--obi?” A voice brought his focus back and he blinked. He was in the hangar. When did he-- “Padawan Kenobi?”
His gaze shifted and he took in the face of a girl. He’s sure she’s someone important. He--
“Padawan Kenobi?” She asks again. Her voice is soft and kind. She’s speaking as though he were some spooked animal.
(Perhaps he was.)
He sees more people walk closer to him. Their eyes are drawn to the body in his arms.
“Are you alright?” The girl - Padme - asks.
Obi-Wan blinks and, still numb to what’s going on, says, “the assassin is dead.”
He barely registers the words passing his lips. But, it’s as though a switch flips in his mind. The world roars back into focus, loud and rushing in his ears. His body screams at him and his exhaustion makes itself known.
His knees buckle, but hands catch him. A few others look at him with open, caring eyes as they carefully pull the body from his shaking arms.
He falls to the ground completely once the weight is gone and there are shouts of alarm ringing through the hangar. Tears blur his vision as he watches his Masters lifeless body be carried away. Then, something warm folds around him and he slips into unconsciousness.
