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laniew1 Therapy was exactly how Ewan had always pictured it (except for the fact that it was him actually in it, instead of Jonny who Ewan had always imagined being the one to go mad. He’d sort of pictured him and Jude looking sad and out of sorts, telling Jonny’s shrink ‘we always knew Angie would drive him bonkers, it was just a matter of time really’).
TITLE: Between Space & Time
RATING: R - because Ewan likes to cuss
PAIRING: Ewan/Anakin
Author: Melanie
DISCLAIMER: Heh, I own nothing. Ewan owns himself as does anybody else that is a real person in real life. George Lucas owns everyone that that is property of Star Wars. I make no money off of them. Don’t sue.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 /
Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19 / Part 20 / Part 21 /
Part 22 / Part 23 / Part 24 / Part 25 / Part 26 / Part 27
Between Space & Time – Part 28
Therapy was exactly how Ewan had always pictured it (except for the fact that it was him actually in it, instead of Jonny who Ewan had always imagined being the one to go mad. He’d sort of pictured him and Jude looking sad and out of sorts, telling Jonny’s shrink ‘we always knew Angie would drive him bonkers, it was just a matter of time really’).
Therapy was invasive and annoying and as much as he thought the young Mind Healer was pretty good at what she was being required to do it kind of freaked him out that she looked about sixteen and he’d had to stop himself a good number of times from asking her if she was actually old enough to actually have a job and where exactly she went to school so he could check her references.
Obviously things were handled a bit differently here and Anakin and Yoda seemed to think she was doing everything okay so Ewan just sat in his chair and tried to think calm, reassuring, sane thoughts.
He rubbed his hand over his chin and eyed the Healer where she sat.
They’d been sitting in silence, it was their third session and he’d gone over what had happened with Count Dooku (the murder and he still didn’t understand why he was allowed to walk around with a lightsaber when he should be in jail waiting on a trial or something) and they’d gone over the kidnapping at Padmé’s hands and Qui-Gon’s involvement.
They’d even touched on Anakin slightly but Ewan had snarled when she’d gone all moon-eyed and obviously star struck (was this what his fans acted like? Probably so, because while he liked to fool himself into thinking they were a bit more restrained, he thought it highly more likely that thousands of girls had probably made digital snapshots of his private parts and plastered them on their walls to masturbate to) and she’d back pedaled and not brought him up again.
“Is there anything else you want to talk about?” she smiled at him with an expression that urged him to spill his deep dark secrets.
He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes instead.
“Well then I think we’re done today,” she sounded disappointed and normally Ewan would have commiserated and threw her a bone, but he was beyond caring.
He’d been talking for three days about how it felt to kill Count Dooku and he would have thought she would have figured out that he felt lousy about killing the Sith Lord (the glare should have clued her in on that, he thought) but instead she kept going over it second by second like she thought if he talked about it often enough he would be okay with having committed murder.
The door slid open as he approached it and he found Mace Windu standing on the other side hand raised.
Behind him Qui-Gon Jinn stood, hands shoved into the arms of his robes, eyes locked on Ewan’s now that he’d noticed him.
“We were just finishing up,” the Mind Healer came up behind Ewan; she probably had a smile on her face. It wasn’t matched by anyone else’s, because Mace’s face was blank and Qui-Gon looked as if he would rather be anywhere than where he was.
“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon’s voice was quiet, his expression earnest.
“Qui-Gon,” Ewan pulled his robes tighter around him, looking anywhere but at Qui-Gon.
Qui-Gon sighed finally and the Mind Healer stepped aside so that he could brush past Ewan and enter the room. Ewan thought there was an inordinate amount of body to body contact and he stepped outside the room to allow the door to close.
“Well that went well,” Mace said wryly. Ewan glanced at him in surprise, the other Jedi looked amused, it wasn’t a look that Ewan was familiar with on Mace’s face.
Although he had seen it a number of times on Sam’s face, he’d spent a good portion of the third film looking amused and Ewan had thought it might have been because he’d read the dialogue and realized that Obi-Wan and Anakin were one kiss and a shag away from making the Star Wars saga a gay love story instead of a story about good and evil.
Ewan frowned, maybe Mace was more like Sam then Ewan had thought. Because it wasn’t like he’d spent a lot of time with Mace Windu, not with Anakin hovering like he was, so it wasn’t like he would have noticed.
He released the grip he had on his robes (black ones that Anakin had let him borrow, they were a bit long and dragged on the floor but at least they weren’t brown, also they smelled like Anakin and that was comforting when he felt like he was being interrogated) and shifted idly on his feet.
Normally Anakin met him as soon as he was done. He wondered where he was.
Well he could make it back to their rooms on his own, he was an adult after all, possibly it was time he started behaving like one instead of having Anakin lead him to and fro like a child that needed to have his hand held to cross the street.
He straightened his shoulder and then realized from the way that Mace was staring at him expectantly that he was waiting for some sort of response to his statement.
So he said the first thing that popped into his mind and that was probably a bad thing.
“At least no one died.”
He winced slightly, though Mace only looked at him with a friendly expression and a smile.
The smile itself seemed to overtake his face, all bright white teeth and it looked so odd that Ewan peered at him in confusion. He could count the number of times that Mace Windu had smiled at him on no hands.
Maybe he’d been possessed?
***************************************************************
Anakin had a running appointment to meet with Yoda during the times that Obi-Wan was scheduled to speak with the Mind Healers.
He thought this due more to the fact that Master Yoda and Master Windu thought that he would stand at the door and eavesdrop on the, for now, private sessions then any need for Anakin to talk about what had happened.
Though it seemed that the meetings with Yoda would be ending as starting with the fourth session the Mind Healer had expressed interest in having Anakin present, stating that she thought it might help Obi-Wan relax enough to allow her to help him.
That had confused Anakin at first, because to his thinking Obi-Wan was doing so much better. (At least he was no longer sobbing in Anakin’s arms, a broken wreck of the man that Anakin loved.)
He’d been steadily regaining his equilibrium since that breakdown. Every day it felt like Anakin was that much closer to having his Master back.
So Anakin had been confused as to why no one else saw the progress that Obi-Wan was making, he’d been confused until Yoda had reminded him about Obi-Wan’s memory loss. Reminded him, that yes, Obi-Wan might be getting stronger by the day, but that he was still not whole and that he might never be.
“Told you I did, that your Master would not be the same.”
“He still loves me,” Anakin said firmly, of that he had no doubt.
“Love for your Master, and his for you, never in question was it,” Yoda said, hands folded over the top of his gimmer stick as he stared at Anakin pensively.
“Then why?” Anakin narrowed his eyes, because he hated being confused and Yoda lived to confuse them. He thought it might actually be one of the few sources of amusement that the old Jedi had.
“Told you before,” Yoda eyed him. “Not the same man your Master will be.”
Anakin didn’t like feeling he was missing the point of the conversation.
***************************************************************
Anakin wasn’t home when Ewan let himself into the small apartment.
He hung the cloak on the wall, hands running carefully down it. He frowned at the dust on the hem and wondered if he should mention it to someone. Obviously housekeeping wasn’t doing a very good job if he could attract that much dust walking from the apartment to the Healers and back again.
He stretched slightly, his lightsaber banging against his leg as he twisted. Anakin had returned it to him and probably the only reason that he hadn’t received a lecture on losing it was because Anakin had been afraid of him breaking into tiny pieces again.
He sat on the edge of the couch and surveyed the room.
He needed to add some of his own personal touches to the apartments. He’d been thinking about it since Anakin had brought him back here.
The apartment felt like home, though he thought that had more to do with Anakin’s presence than anything specific within the room. Maybe a print on the wall, something that screamed Ewan instead of Obi-Wan, for some strange reason he wanted to mark his territory and he thought that Anakin might not approve if he just up and pissed in the corner.
He settled back, feet (boots and all, because he’d learned to wait for Anakin to take them off, one because it was easier and two because Anakin rubbed his feet once the boots were off) on the little coffee table.
Definitely a print, he thought. He’d have Anakin take him somewhere to find one.
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Smiled to himself.
He felt comfortable and relaxed, he hoped someone hadn’t drugged him again.
***************************************************************
“So?” Obi-Wan’s voice was impatient and Ewan opened his eyes to find the Jedi staring down at him.
“We’re back on Coruscant,” Ewan muttered and Obi-Wan visibly relaxed. “I killed Count Dooku.”
Obi-Wan tensed again, staring at him in shock.
“You… what?” Obi-Wan blinked, expression disbelieving.
“I killed Count Dooku,” Ewan pushed himself into a sitting position and wondered why he always seemed to come to in the bright place laying flat on his back even though he hadn’t been flat on his back when he’d obviously fallen asleep.
“You… killed Count Dooku,” Obi-Wan seemed to be having trouble with the concept so Ewan remained silent and let him puzzle it out for himself.
“By yourself?”
Ewan rolled his eyes. “Yes by myself, I’m not a total incompetent you know,” he ignored the snort. “If people hadn’t kept drugging me I wouldn’t have been kidnapped in the first place, so it’s hardly my fault.”
“Are you okay?” Obi-Wan asked it softly, hand gentle on his arm and Ewan glanced over at him. Every one kept asking him that, Anakin, Mace Windu, Yoda, Qui-Gon.
Even Bail Organa had appeared (looking nothing like Jimmy Smits which had kind of surprised him) to ask him how he was doing. Anakin had snarled at him and the Alderaan Senator hadn’t stayed long.
He’d wanted to scream, he’d vowed to hit the next person who asked him that.
But the question seemed sincere coming from Obi-Wan, from himself, he could see no deceit on the face that was identical to his and he knew that Obi-Wan actually cared about how he was handling the fact that he’d killed someone.
This might be the one person that would understand how Ewan felt.
“I’ll…” but he couldn’t bring himself to tell him that he’d been weak, that he’d broken down and sobbed on Anakin like a child. Couldn’t tell him that he had nightmares where Dooku tortured and killed him and Ewan had never had the opportunity to escape. “I’ll be fine.”
Obi-Wan smiled at him kindly. Quite obviously didn’t believe him but also didn’t call him on it. Just let him have what remained of his honor.
Ewan appreciated it, truly he did.
“We’re never switching back… are we?” he asked softly. Because if it was going to be done he would have thought it would have happened by now.
He should have gone home and Anakin should have had his Obi-Wan returned to him. Instead they were still living each others lives.
Obi-Wan shook his head, he looked as sad as Ewan felt. The thought of not seeing his girls, of not seeing Jude or Jonny or any of the others, it hurt.
Obi-Wan had to be hurting just as much. No Anakin or his friends.
“It doesn’t appear so.”
Ewan closed his eyes, maybe it was time to start planning his life out again.
He wondered if Anakin would think Obi-Wan insane if he decided to try his hand at theater.
***************************************************************
Obi-Wan was sleeping on the couch when Anakin appeared at the apartment. He’d arrived moments after Obi-Wan’s session with the Mind Healer had been scheduled to end only to find Mace Windu sitting calmly outside the door.
Which meant that Qui-Gon Jinn was within and he’d been about thirty seconds from knocking the door down at the thought of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon in the same room before Mace Windu had told him that Obi-Wan had been released from his appointment early and had headed in the direction of their apartment.
Anakin had arrived there, giving only a cursory glance at the colorful swag of string that was hanging from their door that Obi-Wan had insisted on so he could find the door to their apartment.
Anakin hadn’t thought it that hard, it was the fourth door on the right. How difficult was that?
He hung his cloak up, pushing his sleeves up as he walked over to the couch.
Obi-Wan didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. Just steady breathing that indicated sleep uninterrupted by nightmares.
He carefully perched on the couch beside him, fingers stroking down the side of Obi-Wan’s face gently.
He didn’t want to disturb him but if he allowed him to continue to sleep the way that he was he would end up with a sore neck and while Anakin loved to touch him and would massage every single ache away he would rather Obi-Wan sleep in a manner that didn’t necessitate that prior to their actually going to bed.
He gently pushed and prodded him, settling himself on the couch and then aligning Obi-Wan’s body with his so that he was cushioning the older man. Obi-Wan’s head on his shoulder and Anakin pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
Obi-Wan sighed, arm resting over his chest and continued to sleep.
Maybe a nap was the perfect thing.
***************************************************************
TITLE: Between Space & Time
RATING: R - because Ewan likes to cuss
PAIRING: Ewan/Anakin
Author: Melanie
DISCLAIMER: Heh, I own nothing. Ewan owns himself as does anybody else that is a real person in real life. George Lucas owns everyone that that is property of Star Wars. I make no money off of them. Don’t sue.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 /
Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19 / Part 20 / Part 21 /
Part 22 / Part 23 / Part 24 / Part 25 / Part 26 / Part 27
Between Space & Time – Part 28
Therapy was exactly how Ewan had always pictured it (except for the fact that it was him actually in it, instead of Jonny who Ewan had always imagined being the one to go mad. He’d sort of pictured him and Jude looking sad and out of sorts, telling Jonny’s shrink ‘we always knew Angie would drive him bonkers, it was just a matter of time really’).
Therapy was invasive and annoying and as much as he thought the young Mind Healer was pretty good at what she was being required to do it kind of freaked him out that she looked about sixteen and he’d had to stop himself a good number of times from asking her if she was actually old enough to actually have a job and where exactly she went to school so he could check her references.
Obviously things were handled a bit differently here and Anakin and Yoda seemed to think she was doing everything okay so Ewan just sat in his chair and tried to think calm, reassuring, sane thoughts.
He rubbed his hand over his chin and eyed the Healer where she sat.
They’d been sitting in silence, it was their third session and he’d gone over what had happened with Count Dooku (the murder and he still didn’t understand why he was allowed to walk around with a lightsaber when he should be in jail waiting on a trial or something) and they’d gone over the kidnapping at Padmé’s hands and Qui-Gon’s involvement.
They’d even touched on Anakin slightly but Ewan had snarled when she’d gone all moon-eyed and obviously star struck (was this what his fans acted like? Probably so, because while he liked to fool himself into thinking they were a bit more restrained, he thought it highly more likely that thousands of girls had probably made digital snapshots of his private parts and plastered them on their walls to masturbate to) and she’d back pedaled and not brought him up again.
“Is there anything else you want to talk about?” she smiled at him with an expression that urged him to spill his deep dark secrets.
He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes instead.
“Well then I think we’re done today,” she sounded disappointed and normally Ewan would have commiserated and threw her a bone, but he was beyond caring.
He’d been talking for three days about how it felt to kill Count Dooku and he would have thought she would have figured out that he felt lousy about killing the Sith Lord (the glare should have clued her in on that, he thought) but instead she kept going over it second by second like she thought if he talked about it often enough he would be okay with having committed murder.
The door slid open as he approached it and he found Mace Windu standing on the other side hand raised.
Behind him Qui-Gon Jinn stood, hands shoved into the arms of his robes, eyes locked on Ewan’s now that he’d noticed him.
“We were just finishing up,” the Mind Healer came up behind Ewan; she probably had a smile on her face. It wasn’t matched by anyone else’s, because Mace’s face was blank and Qui-Gon looked as if he would rather be anywhere than where he was.
“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon’s voice was quiet, his expression earnest.
“Qui-Gon,” Ewan pulled his robes tighter around him, looking anywhere but at Qui-Gon.
Qui-Gon sighed finally and the Mind Healer stepped aside so that he could brush past Ewan and enter the room. Ewan thought there was an inordinate amount of body to body contact and he stepped outside the room to allow the door to close.
“Well that went well,” Mace said wryly. Ewan glanced at him in surprise, the other Jedi looked amused, it wasn’t a look that Ewan was familiar with on Mace’s face.
Although he had seen it a number of times on Sam’s face, he’d spent a good portion of the third film looking amused and Ewan had thought it might have been because he’d read the dialogue and realized that Obi-Wan and Anakin were one kiss and a shag away from making the Star Wars saga a gay love story instead of a story about good and evil.
Ewan frowned, maybe Mace was more like Sam then Ewan had thought. Because it wasn’t like he’d spent a lot of time with Mace Windu, not with Anakin hovering like he was, so it wasn’t like he would have noticed.
He released the grip he had on his robes (black ones that Anakin had let him borrow, they were a bit long and dragged on the floor but at least they weren’t brown, also they smelled like Anakin and that was comforting when he felt like he was being interrogated) and shifted idly on his feet.
Normally Anakin met him as soon as he was done. He wondered where he was.
Well he could make it back to their rooms on his own, he was an adult after all, possibly it was time he started behaving like one instead of having Anakin lead him to and fro like a child that needed to have his hand held to cross the street.
He straightened his shoulder and then realized from the way that Mace was staring at him expectantly that he was waiting for some sort of response to his statement.
So he said the first thing that popped into his mind and that was probably a bad thing.
“At least no one died.”
He winced slightly, though Mace only looked at him with a friendly expression and a smile.
The smile itself seemed to overtake his face, all bright white teeth and it looked so odd that Ewan peered at him in confusion. He could count the number of times that Mace Windu had smiled at him on no hands.
Maybe he’d been possessed?
Anakin had a running appointment to meet with Yoda during the times that Obi-Wan was scheduled to speak with the Mind Healers.
He thought this due more to the fact that Master Yoda and Master Windu thought that he would stand at the door and eavesdrop on the, for now, private sessions then any need for Anakin to talk about what had happened.
Though it seemed that the meetings with Yoda would be ending as starting with the fourth session the Mind Healer had expressed interest in having Anakin present, stating that she thought it might help Obi-Wan relax enough to allow her to help him.
That had confused Anakin at first, because to his thinking Obi-Wan was doing so much better. (At least he was no longer sobbing in Anakin’s arms, a broken wreck of the man that Anakin loved.)
He’d been steadily regaining his equilibrium since that breakdown. Every day it felt like Anakin was that much closer to having his Master back.
So Anakin had been confused as to why no one else saw the progress that Obi-Wan was making, he’d been confused until Yoda had reminded him about Obi-Wan’s memory loss. Reminded him, that yes, Obi-Wan might be getting stronger by the day, but that he was still not whole and that he might never be.
“Told you I did, that your Master would not be the same.”
“He still loves me,” Anakin said firmly, of that he had no doubt.
“Love for your Master, and his for you, never in question was it,” Yoda said, hands folded over the top of his gimmer stick as he stared at Anakin pensively.
“Then why?” Anakin narrowed his eyes, because he hated being confused and Yoda lived to confuse them. He thought it might actually be one of the few sources of amusement that the old Jedi had.
“Told you before,” Yoda eyed him. “Not the same man your Master will be.”
Anakin didn’t like feeling he was missing the point of the conversation.
Anakin wasn’t home when Ewan let himself into the small apartment.
He hung the cloak on the wall, hands running carefully down it. He frowned at the dust on the hem and wondered if he should mention it to someone. Obviously housekeeping wasn’t doing a very good job if he could attract that much dust walking from the apartment to the Healers and back again.
He stretched slightly, his lightsaber banging against his leg as he twisted. Anakin had returned it to him and probably the only reason that he hadn’t received a lecture on losing it was because Anakin had been afraid of him breaking into tiny pieces again.
He sat on the edge of the couch and surveyed the room.
He needed to add some of his own personal touches to the apartments. He’d been thinking about it since Anakin had brought him back here.
The apartment felt like home, though he thought that had more to do with Anakin’s presence than anything specific within the room. Maybe a print on the wall, something that screamed Ewan instead of Obi-Wan, for some strange reason he wanted to mark his territory and he thought that Anakin might not approve if he just up and pissed in the corner.
He settled back, feet (boots and all, because he’d learned to wait for Anakin to take them off, one because it was easier and two because Anakin rubbed his feet once the boots were off) on the little coffee table.
Definitely a print, he thought. He’d have Anakin take him somewhere to find one.
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Smiled to himself.
He felt comfortable and relaxed, he hoped someone hadn’t drugged him again.
“So?” Obi-Wan’s voice was impatient and Ewan opened his eyes to find the Jedi staring down at him.
“We’re back on Coruscant,” Ewan muttered and Obi-Wan visibly relaxed. “I killed Count Dooku.”
Obi-Wan tensed again, staring at him in shock.
“You… what?” Obi-Wan blinked, expression disbelieving.
“I killed Count Dooku,” Ewan pushed himself into a sitting position and wondered why he always seemed to come to in the bright place laying flat on his back even though he hadn’t been flat on his back when he’d obviously fallen asleep.
“You… killed Count Dooku,” Obi-Wan seemed to be having trouble with the concept so Ewan remained silent and let him puzzle it out for himself.
“By yourself?”
Ewan rolled his eyes. “Yes by myself, I’m not a total incompetent you know,” he ignored the snort. “If people hadn’t kept drugging me I wouldn’t have been kidnapped in the first place, so it’s hardly my fault.”
“Are you okay?” Obi-Wan asked it softly, hand gentle on his arm and Ewan glanced over at him. Every one kept asking him that, Anakin, Mace Windu, Yoda, Qui-Gon.
Even Bail Organa had appeared (looking nothing like Jimmy Smits which had kind of surprised him) to ask him how he was doing. Anakin had snarled at him and the Alderaan Senator hadn’t stayed long.
He’d wanted to scream, he’d vowed to hit the next person who asked him that.
But the question seemed sincere coming from Obi-Wan, from himself, he could see no deceit on the face that was identical to his and he knew that Obi-Wan actually cared about how he was handling the fact that he’d killed someone.
This might be the one person that would understand how Ewan felt.
“I’ll…” but he couldn’t bring himself to tell him that he’d been weak, that he’d broken down and sobbed on Anakin like a child. Couldn’t tell him that he had nightmares where Dooku tortured and killed him and Ewan had never had the opportunity to escape. “I’ll be fine.”
Obi-Wan smiled at him kindly. Quite obviously didn’t believe him but also didn’t call him on it. Just let him have what remained of his honor.
Ewan appreciated it, truly he did.
“We’re never switching back… are we?” he asked softly. Because if it was going to be done he would have thought it would have happened by now.
He should have gone home and Anakin should have had his Obi-Wan returned to him. Instead they were still living each others lives.
Obi-Wan shook his head, he looked as sad as Ewan felt. The thought of not seeing his girls, of not seeing Jude or Jonny or any of the others, it hurt.
Obi-Wan had to be hurting just as much. No Anakin or his friends.
“It doesn’t appear so.”
Ewan closed his eyes, maybe it was time to start planning his life out again.
He wondered if Anakin would think Obi-Wan insane if he decided to try his hand at theater.
Obi-Wan was sleeping on the couch when Anakin appeared at the apartment. He’d arrived moments after Obi-Wan’s session with the Mind Healer had been scheduled to end only to find Mace Windu sitting calmly outside the door.
Which meant that Qui-Gon Jinn was within and he’d been about thirty seconds from knocking the door down at the thought of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon in the same room before Mace Windu had told him that Obi-Wan had been released from his appointment early and had headed in the direction of their apartment.
Anakin had arrived there, giving only a cursory glance at the colorful swag of string that was hanging from their door that Obi-Wan had insisted on so he could find the door to their apartment.
Anakin hadn’t thought it that hard, it was the fourth door on the right. How difficult was that?
He hung his cloak up, pushing his sleeves up as he walked over to the couch.
Obi-Wan didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. Just steady breathing that indicated sleep uninterrupted by nightmares.
He carefully perched on the couch beside him, fingers stroking down the side of Obi-Wan’s face gently.
He didn’t want to disturb him but if he allowed him to continue to sleep the way that he was he would end up with a sore neck and while Anakin loved to touch him and would massage every single ache away he would rather Obi-Wan sleep in a manner that didn’t necessitate that prior to their actually going to bed.
He gently pushed and prodded him, settling himself on the couch and then aligning Obi-Wan’s body with his so that he was cushioning the older man. Obi-Wan’s head on his shoulder and Anakin pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
Obi-Wan sighed, arm resting over his chest and continued to sleep.
Maybe a nap was the perfect thing.