Star Wars Stained

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters in the story below, unfortunately. These toys belong to Lucas and Disney. I'm just taking them out to play for a bit...

**A/N:** So there was this plot bunny, a bit of a runt, but tenacious none the less, and he bites me, the little bugger! This one-shot is a result of my encounter with that uncivilized, long-eared rodent... Enjoy!

**STAINED**

"Obi-Wan?"

"It's... not... mine."

It takes the master a few moments to process his apprentice's meaning as he looks to the scene before him. It has all the trappings of a nightmare.

Qui-Gon Jinn had come in search of his padawan the moment he felt the unsettling burst of emotions rush through their bond. First fear, then determination, then... horror. He had rushed into the small office building knowing his padawan was inside. The Force nearly shivered in the air the moment he entered the hall and down the short stair. He slowed his pace and approached the open door carefully. When he reached the room, what he saw, he knew, would be forever burned into his memory. Obi-Wan was kneeling in the middle of the room. His face, his tunic, his hands, and leggings were all covered in blood. Blood pooled around him on the floor making the thirteen year old seem like a desolate island in a sea of crimson.

Qui-Gon drops to a crouch and moves closer to the still kneeling child.

"Padawan?" he says gently. Obi-Wan is staring at his hands, his palms up and covered in the darkening ruby liquid. He glances up at his master, his blue-grey eyes are wide and bare a half glazed look.

"It's not mine," he repeats and then returns to staring at his hands. Qui-Gon looks to the left of the boy for the first time and notices an unmoving body. The figure wears the black and grey uniform of the rebels currently terrorizing the capital city of Rhys on Xjasso'pia. The pair of Jedi had been sent to help broker a truce between the government and the rebel group, but negotiations deteriorated rapidly when the sister of the Xjasso'pian Prime Minister was found dead. Poison was suspected. After that, it was all Qui-Gon could do to try to get himself and his padawan out of the palace and to the spaceport, but they were ambushed and separated. Apparently, Obi-Wan was attacked by one of the rebels and was forced to kill him. Qui-Gon doesn't see Obi-Wan's lightsaber nearby only a vibroknife covered from tip to hilt with, presumably, the rebel's blood—the same blood that now encases much of his padawan's form like a second skin.

"It's not mine," the boy repeats once more. Qui-Gon nods slowly as he moves closer to his apprentice.

"I know, Padawan," he says gently as he continues to move forward. "Obi-Wan, are you injured?" he asks. The boy doesn't speak. He only stares at his hands and shakes his head. Finally, Qui-Gon is close enough to touch him. He carefully puts his hands on the boy's tremulous shoulders.

"Obi-Wan, you're alright. You're safe now," he says as he sends waves of comfort and reassurance through the bond, but all he feels from the other end is an odd sort of static—an uncomfortable white noise with only traces of emotion, namely horror and disbelief.

"It's not mine," he whispers. He raises his gaze to look into his master's eyes. Qui-Gon stares into the eyes of his padawan and sees in them nothing he recognizes of the boy that has lived with him for the past few months. Those eyes had held a light, a twinkle that seemed to reflect the compassion and warmth of the boy himself. But, these eyes... these eyes that stare at him now are dull, empty. They are dead eyes.

"It's not mine."

"I know, Padawan. I know," Qui-Gon says as he places a hand on Obi-Wan's forehead, only dimly noting how clammy the boy's skin feels under his touch.

"Sleep now, my Padawan. It's time to rest."

* * *

That night is not an easy one for the Jedi. With so much violence still erupting in the streets, Qui-Gon knows it is unsafe to try to make it to the spaceport and their ship carrying an insensate padawan in his arms. Instead, the master carries his apprentice to the temporary refuge of an abandoned warehouse. There he watches over the sleeping boy keeping a wary eye out for rebels or others out to harm the pair.

During the slow passing hours in the warehouse, Qui-Gon does not sleep. He allows himself only to drift into light meditation so he can maintain a high level of vigilance should the Force warn him of danger. It is several hours before Obi-Wan begins to wake from his Force induced slumber. He stirs quietly, blinking a few times before opening his eyes completely. Qui-Gon is immediately at his side the moment he feels Obi-Wan pushing his way toward consciousness. Obi-Wan does not sit up. He does not attempt to move in anyway. He simply lays there, his eyes open staring blankly at the dilapidated ceiling above him.

"Padawan?" his master calls out softly. Obi-Wan's gaze does not shift, but his mouth opens, then closes again as if he were going to say something, but had suddenly decided not to.

"Padawan, talk to me. Are you alright?" Qui-Gon asks, not at all successful at keeping the worry out of his voice.

"So much blood, Master..." the boy whispers, then he turns to look at his master. "There was so much blood. I didn't mean to... I never intended..."

"Ssshhh, young one," Qui-Gon says pulling the boy up into a seated position and drawing him close to his chest. "It is alright," he soothes, but even as he speaks the words he can feel Obi-Wan pulling away from him, his head shaking in disagreement. Obi-Wan looks down at his hands. They, like the rest of him, are still covered in the man's liquid life now dried to the color of rust.

"Still there..." he whispers. "It's still there."

Qui-Gon sighs sorrowfully and takes the smaller pair of hands into just one of his larger, calloused ones.

"I'm sorry, Padawan, but there is nothing here to wash with," he answers. "Padawan, look at me," he orders gently. Slowly, the blue-gray eyes raise to meet his midnight blues. "You have done nothing wrong. The extinguishing of a life is always regrettable, but you were defending yourself as you should have. You have done _nothing_ wrong."

The boy says nothing, but continues to stare at his master for several seconds as if he is trying to will himself into believing the words. The child's gaze finally drops back to his blood encrusted hands.

"I took his life with these and now... they're stained," he says and then he looks back at his master. "I'm stained."

* * *

For over an hour the two sit, Qui-Gon with his back against a wall and Obi-Wan curled into his side, blanketed in the embrace of his master's cloak and arm. During this time, neither Jedi speaks, Obi-Wan's sad declaration hanging unchallenged in the air. What is the master to say? Taking a life affects the Living Force as much as it affects the one who does the taking and when the taker is a Jedi the effect is doubly so. Qui-Gon hates to admit it, but on some level Obi-Wan has spoken the truth—he is stained just like every Jedi there ever was or ever will be, for all at some point are forced to strike down a living being in service to the Force. It is a grim rite of passage faced by every padawan, some early some late, but none are spared its harsh reality. Usually death is delivered by saber blade, swift, clean, and efficient. The cauterizing feature of the blade made kills... well tidy an aspect the master has never really considered a blessing until now. Obi-Wan had not the luxury of a tidy kill. The boy didn't have his lightsaber when Qui-Gon found him and the apprentice had yet to speak more than a few chilling sentences as he still reeled from the shock of the event. No, this death was close, personal, and messy. Obi-Wan is still covered in the evidence of that. Oh, how the master wishes they were at the Temple so he could plant his padawan in the nearest 'fresher, banish the gruesome evidence from his body and dress him in the pure, white, clean robes of his station. But even if he could physically cleanse his apprentice right now, the master knows excoriating the stain left inside the boy will be a much harder task.

"Master?"

The soft dulcet tone of his padawan's voice breaks the uneasy silence and startles the master from his increasingly despondent train of thought.

"Yes, Padawan?"

"You have killed," Obi-Wan says. It is a statement, not a question, but the master feels compelled to answer anyway.

"Yes, I have."

"How many?"

"I don't know," Qui-Gon replies with a deep sigh. "Too many, but sometimes the Force requires us to take a life in its service, to protect the greater good. To kill in self-defense or the defense of the innocent is not wrong, Obi-Wan. Jedi do not murder, but yes, we sometimes must kill."

"Murder or defense... the end is the same. Death," the small voice intones. Qui-Gon puts a finger under the boy's chin forcing him to look at his master.

"There is no death, Obi-Wan. There is only the Force."

"There is death, Master," he whispers. "And I brought it."

* * *

Eventually the master feels his charge's breathing change to the slow and steady rhythm of deep sleep, but with sleep comes the inevitable nightmare of recent memory. Obi-Wan wakes in a frenzied panic, his arms struggling wildly against Qui-Gon's grasp, his face covered with tears.

"No! No! Stop! I don't want to hurt you! No! No!"

"Obi-Wan, wake up, you are dreaming," Qui-Gon calls, but the boy is still enthralled within the dreamscape unable to hear his master's plaintive commands.

_Padawan! You're dreaming and now you must wake. Wake, padawan!_

The child's movements start to quell as he relaxes into his master's hold. Eyelids flutter open revealing bloodshot eyes still sparkling with tears waiting their turn to trace silvery trails down flush cheeks. Slowly, the boy calms down with the aid of the Force and subtle suggestions over the bond from his master.

"I-I killed him again... I didn't want to. I tried to make it stop, to... do things differently... but it still happened. He still died because of me," Obi-Wan whispers. Qui-Gon gently wipes the newly shed tears from the boy's face.

"We cannot change the past, Padawn. We can only accept it."

"I cannot accept it..."

"Why not, young one?"

"Because, I am a... killer," he finishes as new tears threaten and his voice chokes. "I-I don't want to ever accept that... but it's the truth, isn't Master?" he says as he looks up into his master's eyes. For several moments, Qui-Gon is unable to answer, then eventually his mouth seems to move on its own accord.

"Yes, Obi-Wan it is true in that you have killed," he pauses. Obi-Wan lowers his gaze and nods his head as the expected confirmation is delivered. "But as you pointed out earlier, I too am a killer in this regard as is Master Uvain, Master Gallia, Master Windu, and even Master Yoda."

To this his apprentice says nothing, only blankly staring at his bloodied and filthy robes. His eyes fall again to his stained hands.

"When I realized we were separated I didn't know what to do. I looked around for you, but I couldn't see you anywhere," Obi-Wan begins, his eyes still glued to his hands. "Where I was standing was very exposed so I backed into the building figuring I would find better cover and wait for you to find me."

"A wise course of action," Qui-Gon offers, but his praise goes unnoticed.

"There were lots of people in the building... civilians... innocents. They were so scared. They ran past me screaming, terrified. They pushed past me as I pushed deeper inside. I was so overwhelmed by their fear that I... I didn't realize someone had followed me in." Here the boy pauses, taking in a deep breath. Qui-Gon doesn't speak allowing him to continue with his story when he is ready.

"I didn't know he was behind me until it was too late. He attacked me from behind. I stumbled at the top of a short staircase. I fell, my saber was gone from my hand... I don't know where I lost it. Then he charged at me. He had a knife. He tackled me to the ground. We... struggled... Somehow I got the knife from him and..." he pauses again, this time to swallow the large lump in his throat. "He was so heavy on top of me... lifeless. I could f-feel the blood pouring from his body onto mine. Warm. Slick. I couldn't breathe under him. I couldn't breathe... I couldn't..."

Suddenly the boy is hyperventilating, his breath coming in short, hitched gasps. Qui-Gon leans the child forward placing his head between his knees and rubbing soothing circles across the boy's back.

"Deep breaths, Padawan."

Slowly, the boy's breath gets under control and he leans back into his master's side, his head laying between his chest and shoulder.

"I never wanted to kill him, Master. Truly, I didn't."

"I know, my Padawan. You did only what you had to do and for that I am grateful otherwise I would have lost you today and I am not sure if that is something your master could bear."

"I know it was my life or his, Master, but..."

"But what?"

"But it still doesn't seem fair."

Qui-Gon sighs.

"Life is not fair or unfair, my Obi-Wan. Fairness or unfairness lies in how we treat others. It is in our choices, Light and Dark, right and wrong, defense or murder. Do you understand?" he asks looking down at his apprentice. To his surprise and delight the boy returns his gaze, the dullness of his eyes washed away with last hour's tears.

"I... I think so, Master, but I still feel... wrong about it."

Qui-Gon gives his padawan a gentle squeeze.

"And so you should. It is only your compassion you feel, Padawan. Though at times like this it will bring you pain, I hope it is something you never lose," the master finishes softly.

With the coming of dawn, Qui-Gon notices that the streets have quieted, the sound of blaster fire fading out some hours previous. At daybreak he decides that they will return to their ship and finally make their way back to Coruscant and back to the serenity of the Temple. There the boy will discard the tattered remains of his robes and a piece of his innocence. He will step into the warm waters of their 'fresher. He will watch the stains disappear from his body and travel down the drain as he expels his grief and guilt into the Force and the master knows that then his padawan will finally be cleansed.


End file.

Star Wars, Angst, Hurt-Comfort