#don'tlookback

Qui-Gon watches the braid fall to the floor, and a polite smile spreads across Obi-Wan's face as he rises. There is cheering from the council, and Qui-Gon deactivates his lightsaber.

He lets Obi-Wan get whisked away by the crowd of his friends. The post-knighting celebration is always an exciting one and one that with any hope, Obi-Wan will not remember entirely the following day. (Mace made damn sure of that at Qui-Gon's own knighting. He still can't even think about cinnamon shots without feeling queasy).

He looks at his padawan-- former padawan who beams in his direction, his braid held tightly in his fingers. Pride blooms in Qui-Gon’s chest. The boy he raised from his youth now stands among his friends, some lacking their braids and others who are soon due. Their arms wrap around him and words of congratulations fill the air, and Qui-Gon has to resist the urge to run up to them and tell them how right they are. How Obi-Wan stepped up against a foe even he couldn’t defeat, and now he even inquired about taking on Anakin as his padawan in a few years if Qui-Gon is still feeling the effects of his injuries. He raised an excellent Jedi, true and good, but he must make sure Obi-Wan knows how good he is before Qui-Gon accepts his demise.

But will there even be time for that?

The question constantly lingers in his mind. He can feel the eyes of his council members who know the deal he made. He's been their constant study ever since he explained what had happened in that chamber. It feels like they're afraid to blink around him-- that one moment he'll be living and the next the Force will take him before their eyes. Had Qui-Gon known he would become a captive animal he would have succumbed to his rightful fate weeks ago.

A joke, he projects into the Force. Only a joke.

Maybe he will disappear in an instant-- it certainly feels that way sometimes. Ever since Naboo, he is at the very peak of a metaphorical mountain. Solid ground is virtually non-existent at this point, with only the treacherous cliffside around him if he wavers from his upright stance. He is posted up at the very edge of his Life Force. Yes, he can stand here almost comfortably, but even mountains weather over time. Soon he will have to fall and accept his entry into the Cosmic Force.

"They grow up so fast," the sardonic voice of his friend says, with a hand resting on his shoulder. He looks to Mace Windu who may be the only member of the council who isn't obsessed with his current existence. Or at least he hides it better.

"Indeed. One day I'm pulling him out of a fire beetle pit and the next he's besting a Sith in a duel."

"A testament to your lineage. With hope, your maverick ways weren't hereditary."

Qui-Gon chuckles. "If anything, it skips a generation."

"Then I'm not giving Kenobi any say in his padawan choice."

"Much like Yoda did for me then?"

Mace clears his throat, straightening up. Yes, maverick ways certainly skip a generation in this lineage. Yoda may be the worst of all, somehow even getting the Force on his side to do his bidding.

"The creche master sent a comm during the ceremony," the Master of the Order changes the subject ever so subtly. Qui-Gon perks up, looking at his friend.

"Is it--"

"It's Skywalker, yes."

Qui-Gon glances over at Obi-Wan, still in the midst of collecting praises.

"If Obi-Wan asks, I am stepping out for just a moment."

Windu nods, and Qui-Gon moves quietly away from the party.

The walk to the creche feels longer than normal. Perhaps it is his new philosophy to savor the moment he has left in his home. Walks through the temple are different now that he knows they are the last he will take. He looks at every art piece, glances into every room. Though he isn't spending as much time sightseeing, it still feels long.

His focus lies on Anakin now.

Qui-Gon is a hypocrite. He so often took the time to lecture about not reflecting on the past, and now here he is, wishing he could have done so many things differently. One such choice is how he dealt with young Anakin.

Impulsive is a word used on numerous occasions to describe him through his knighthood. Usually, he ignores such critiques since they so often come from senators with no concept of what it means to be a Jedi and know the Force... but this time they may have a point. At the time it felt like the right thing to do. Anakin was a slave with untapped potential and the answer to a prophecy he's been studying for years. He's undoubtedly the Chosen One who will save them from the darkness. But maybe if he'd just waited...

He strides into the dormitories to find Master Rose, Anakin's creche master, waiting patiently for him.

"Master Jinn," she says, her lips pressed together. "They're happening again."

He sighs. "Can I see him?"

She nods, stepping out of the way. The dormitories are just as he remembers from his own childhood. Rows of beds, little privacy, and always a little musty from the older younglings that aren't keen on hygiene yet. It's empty at this time of day-- Anakin has been granted additional rest hours because of the nightmares he's been having ever since his arrival at the Temple. A recommendation from his mind healer. The boy sits on the edge of his bed, arms wrapped around himself as though he's cold or simulating a hug. He only looks up at Qui-Gon when he approaches and sits next to him, his eyes rimmed red and nose running.

"Was it her again?" Qui-Gon asks softly, wrapping an arm around the boy. He leans into his side, sniffling in the process.

"Yes, Master Jinn."

"The same as the others?"

He feels the nod. Anakin has told him of his nightmares before. His mother, Shmi, sitting in the window staring out to the horizon. He calls for her, but she doesn't turn around. So he runs at her, only to be held back. The creche master would wake up to him screaming for her in the night. Pleading her to look at him. If his dream progresses enough, she does turn around, but she doesn't know him. Doesn't remember him. And then he screams louder-- but in despair.

"The mind healer told me it's because I'm attached," he looks up, his eyes a bright blue from crying. "Master Jinn, how can I not be attached to my mom?"

The question pangs in Qui-Gon's chest because truthfully, he doesn't know the answer to that question. Biological family is not something he's ever known or really put much thought into. The Jedi have always been his family, but not quite in the way that Anakin feels for his mother.

This is where his regret comes. He didn't consider the fallout of Anakin's attachment. Obi-Wan tried to warn him but he admittedly wasn't in the market for advice at that time. As much as he's trying to make things right by having the boy see a mind healer to cope with the change, he isn't sure the boy will ever figure out how to overcome his attachment. It worries him. He knows it worries the council. Obi-Wan has come around on the idea, but with the condition that he works with the healers.

"What is it you fear, Anakin?"

His face scrunched up. "What do you mean?"

"What do you fear."

"You said Jedi aren't supposed to fear."

Qui-Gon smiles. "You are a Jedi in training, young one. And Jedi do fear, they just know how to deal with it. How to release it and not let it affect their connection to the Force."

"Because fear is the dark side, right?"

"You learn quickly. Fear is not inherently the dark side, but it can lead to it. Now tell me, what is making you afraid?"

The boy takes a deep breath. "What if she... forgets about me?" As he speaks, his voice cracks. "What if she is hurt or needs help, and I... can't help her? I shouldn't have-- I shouldn't have left her all alone."

The tears come now, hot and fast. And stars, the Force... when Anakin cries just feels like it's crying with him.

Qui-Gon has learned that sometimes tears just need to flow. For the young, it is a necessary release. He lets Anakin have his moment, lets him collapse into his lap, and ball his robes in his little fists. Qui-Gon just sends calm sentiments through the Force, even though it feels like he's holding an umbrella to a gale. When his sobs turned to sniffles, Qui-Gon ruffles his fingers through the floppy blond strands of his hair. His dry heaving and hiccups shift to controlled breaths, and then the Jedi Master speaks.

"Now how do you feel?"

Anakin sniffles, sitting up again next to Qui-Gon. "A little... better."

"Your mind healer has told you to release your emotions, right? This--" He sets his hand lightly on the boy's chest. "--feeling you have. A weight off your shoulders, and your emotions calm. This is the feeling you are looking for."

"So I have to... cry when I meditate?"

The master smiles. "With much practice, you will find you can release any negative emotions with just your strength of mind. To be a Jedi is to be in control of these emotions. To think and act with a clear mind. Now tell me young one, these dreams. Your mother. Now that you have released your anxieties, what is it telling you?"

The boy looks up at him, eyes wide and bright from the residual tears. Anakin's lip quivers, but he bites the inside of his lip.

"Don't look back. She told me not to look back."

He nods. Qui-Gon remembers the moment vividly, Shmi's jaw set but face soft when Anakin looked at her. He could see her strength, her desire for Anakin to have a life better than his current one, but also her love for her son. When Anakin didn't turn around, Qui-Gon did. Shmi stared back, a smile still on her face and a nod in his direction. A promise--I will be okay-- and a request-- take care of him for me.

"Yes. Don't look back, look forward. If you learn the ways of the Jedi, learn to regulate your emotions, and become the great knight I feel you could be, then you will be making her proud. You are living the life that your mother wanted for you. I know you can feel that."

"I can feel it," he says softly. "I just... don't know if I should believe it."

"Trust in the Force, Ani. You've done it naturally all your life, and now it's time you learn to hone it. And don't look back."

"Look forward," Anakin finishes for him, pushing off the bed and standing. "I'll try, Master Jinn."

Do or do not, there is no try, his grandmaster's voice automatically replies in his mind. Qui-Gon walks with Anakin back out to see his creche master, who will take him to his next mind healing session.

And then he's alone walking back to the council chambers. When he's alone, he is aware of the ticking chrono constantly ringing in his ears. It grows louder with every day he awakes, every additional moment he strongarms his way through. Maybe Qui-Gon would wonder what this world would look like had he perished in that chamber, but he need not wonder.

It's what he hasn't yet told a soul, and it weighs on him. When he held on for dear life to that final thread of life, he saw a future clad in darkness. Light and dark clashing in a heated fury of heartbreak and loss. It was cold, laced with pain and treachery he could hardly comprehend. This was a future of suffering, and he has woken in a cold sweat every night since he felt it.

If he died in that chamber, the galaxy would suffer. He tries to tell himself what Shmi told her son-- don't look back-- but the very idea of such a shatterpoint over his existence is horrifying. He can't help it. But it's given him a reason to do what he can to fix this mess he has created. To prevent that pit of despair he could feel in the shadow of his former padawan's future. To preserve the light that shines so brightly within a boy who had every reason to live in darkness. Don't look back-- Force, but what if he had died? What if he was too slow, too weak to keep himself from going into that light?

He stops outside the council chambers, sitting on the bench and breathing deeply. The sounds of celebration still rage in the next room, and from here Qui-Gon can feel Obi-Wan and the gratification that has made his Force presence feel like a raging bonfire. It's warm, inviting, and feels as though it could burn for an eternity.