| Title: As If He Was Sleeping Author: Ginger Ninja Summary: Qui-Gon's worst nightmare is upon him Time Period: Mid JA Spoilers: None whatsoever Rating: PG-13. Just in case... Archive: If you want it, just e-mail! Dedicated, forever, to Dara, Laura, Jess and Tessa. **WARNING** I like to write angst but I have to admit, even this is a new type of angst for me. I'm warning you now this fic deals with character death (making this story AU of course). Do *NOT* read this if that sort of thing disturbs you. ***** "You may come in now Master Jinn." I stood up, aware of the trembling in my legs and the fluttering of my heart. I followed the healer silently into the brightly lit room. There were bright red flower arrangements in each of the four corners: a stark contrast to the whiteness of the rest of the room. In the centre was a bed. There was a body underneath a white sheet resting on it. The body of... I squeezed my eyes closed and my shaking legs ceased movement. No, better not think that yet. They could be mistaken. Mistakes were made everyday! But where had that warm light in the back of my mind gone? I opened my eyes and lifted my head. With a deep breath, I continued forward, and the healer behind me followed. I stood on one side of the bed, the healer on the other. I looked into her eyes, aware of the sympathy and sadness within them, and nodded to her to pull back the white blanket. She did so and my hand flew, as if by instinct, to my mouth to hold back a sob. Surely that was not my boy who lay there? One hand strayed to his face, the other to his chest. No heartbeat pounded below my fingers. No breath was drawn in through his nose. The hand on his chest moved and I gripped his hand in my own. "He's so cold," I whispered, gazing at his peaceful face. I think I heard the healer choke back tears. Yet no tears rolled down my face. Well there wouldn't be would there? This wasn't happening. My first instinct was to wrap a warm blanket around him and hold him in my arms but no amount of external heat would help. He would never be warm again. I looked at his face. He didn't have the look of agony on his face one would expect of someone who had been brutally stabbed in the back several times. On the contrary, I'd only ever seen him look this peaceful when he was sleeping. His lips were parted slightly, as were any sleepers, but his skin held a deathly white pallor that no living being could have. I took my other hand from his ice-cold cheek and rested it on his ginger hair. It was as soft as ever. His braid rested lightly on one shoulder. I resisted the urge to twirl it beneath my fingers. My hand moved back to his face. With my fingers, I gently lifted an eyelid. The dull and glazed green/blue eyes gazed back at me, unseeingly. But...but that didn't mean it was him. No, there was still hope. I looked up at the healer, and saw her brushing at tears as she gazed at the body of the dead boy. I cleared my throat. "Was there anything in his pockets?" I asked. She composed herself and walked over to a counter. She picked up a tray-white again-and showed me what had been found on the body. There were only two items. Lightsaber. I ignited it. The crystalline blue blade shot out and hummed quietly. I switched the blade off. Not necessarily his. Many Jedi had a blade that colour. But it resembled mine in so many ways, just as his had. I remembered it well. He had built his 'saber to look like mine in many ways. I took hold of the other item. The rock that seemed to glow the moment I reached out and touched it. Surely this was his. Yes, it was identical to the one I gave him for his thirteenth birthday and there was absolutely no chance of this being a replica. The healer pulled a chair in from the hallway and placed it by the bed. My legs were still trembling but I could still stand on them. At least, I could for a moment longer. There was only one thing I could do now. There was only one way to remove all trace of doubt. I reached to the bond in my mind that had been silent now for hours. Or had it been days? I didn't really remember. //Are you still there Padawan? Can you hear me?// Nothing. No reply, no sensations, no nothing. Just a howling dark void. Like there wasn't anything there anymore. There wasn't anything there any more. My legs gave out then and I found myself in the chair. I gripped the boy's hand tightly. He was dead. Stabbed in the back by a criminal who didn't know or understand this bright young boy. No, all he'd cared about was escaping. And escaped he had, for the injured and dying boy had been unable to go after him and I hadn't been there to assist. No, I had been with my friends while he was out there getting killed. The tears began to come now. Great, heaving sobs. "Master Jinn?" the healer whispered. "Do you know who he is?" "Yes," I murmured. "That's him. That's my Obi-Wan." And he just lay there, oblivious to the world around him, as if he was sleeping. ***End*** |
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