He's not even going to thank me. The thought had been gnawing at Obi-Wan since they'd hurried away from the bounty hunter's ship and had only grown more persistent and frustrating as they hiked along back toward their own ship. He knew that a Jedi shouldn't require thanks, that having managed to save the Knight on his own was its own reward, but it only seemed right. He'd risked his life to save the man, after all.

Now he sat near the Knight—but not too near, as the heat was oppressive enough without being too near another person's body heat—and avoided looking at him as he ate a small meal and continued to insist that the boy should eat as well. Obi-Wan couldn't see why it would matter, however.

Not even so much as a thank you. He really does plan to just sever the bond when we return to the Temple.

"At least drink some water, Obi-Wan. It will do you no good to dehydrate now." Qui-Gon's words startled the boy, pulling him away from his thoughts as they cut through the heavy silence that had fallen between them. He found that his first reaction was to want to continue to be stubborn, just to spite the Knight.

But what good would that ultimately do him? None, of that much he was quite certain. Sighing, he dug through his bag and pulled out a durasteel bottle that was still more than half full of water. Had their training exercise actually gone as planned, perhaps his ability to ration his food and water would have impressed the Knight. How traipsing through the jungle on his own in a quest to save someone more than twice his age was less impressive than anything he could've shown on a proper camping trip was so far beyond Obi-Wan's sphere of knowledge that even beginning to think about it once more was causing frustration and anger to well up inside him again.

Let it go, he told himself, scolding himself. Getting angry about it is just going to make it even harder to find a Master that'll be willing to train me.

After he'd drank a couple of mouthfuls of water, Obi-Wan poured some into his hand and rubbed it across his forehead and into his hair. It brought him far less relief from the overbearing heat than he'd hoped for. Worse than that, it earned him a look from Qui-Gon. A look that he couldn't quite read, which meant it was probably not a very good look. He quickly put the cap back on his water and stuffed it back into his pack.

It was then that Qui-Gon stood up, and before Obi-Wan could grab his pack and do the same, Qui-Gon called the boy's bag to his hand with the Force and slung it over his shoulder with his own bag. Obi-Wan felt like he could cry.

He doesn't even trust that I'm strong enough to carry my own pack any further, he thought miserably as he pushed himself to his feet.

"We best be on our way," Qui-Gon said as Obi-Wan brushed himself off and made sure that his lightsaber was still hanging from his belt. "It's still quite a long walk to the ship."

I know, I've already walked the distance once, Obi-Wan thought bitterly.

Not even a thank you.

~~~/~~~/~~~

Obi-Wan had never been quite so grateful to step foot on a ship in his entire twelve years of life. Just walking up the ramp and into the hatch dropped the humidity by more than half, although it took Qui-Gon starting the engines back up for there to be any end to the heat. The moment that the temperature onboard began to drop, both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan let out loud sighs of relief.

Obi-Wan wiped his face with his hands and let his inner tunic fall open to grant some of that glorious cool air access to his burning chest and stomach. As the tunic fell open, however, something fell from his neck. At first, he thought it had been a rather large bug that had managed to burrow into a warm, damp spot in the clothing, but as he crouched down to investigate he realized, in horror, precisely what it was.

Worse than that, he knew that Qui-Gon had seen.

"What is that?" the Knight asked as Obi-Wan picked up the makeshift cotton bandage that had been hiding the mark that he'd once been so very proud of and the damage that he'd caused it with his fingernails.

"Nothing," Obi-Wan replied, quickly pocketing the makeshift bandage as he delicately probed his neck with his fingers. It was swollen and tender, but not outright painful. The area around the mark felt like it was full of fluid. At least now if I go to the healers they won't know I did this to myself, he thought, wincing as he rubbed it with his palm.

"Obi-Wan, what did I say about lying to me?" Qui-Gon's tone was stern. Obi-Wan sighed and turned so that the Knight could see. He cringed when the Knight gasped and covered his mouth with his hand. "What happened? Did the bounty hunter do this to you?" he demanded as he closed the small gap between them and knelt down to inspect the wound. Obi-Wan merely shook his head in response. "What happened?" Qui-Gon asked again.

"It's fine. It doesn't even—ˮ The rest of Obi-Wan's protest was lost as Qui-Gon gently poked at it and his vision went red, then white, before going black. He let out a choked cry of pain as he felt something, perhaps the scab or maybe an over-full blister, rupture and felt something warm and wet pour down his neck and chest. "Stop!" he managed to choke out, trying desperately to pull away from the Knight, but Qui-Gon kept him in place with the Force. His neck was throbbing. He couldn't see for the pain and sudden, unbearable pressure that seemed to threaten to send his brain out through his eye sockets.

"This is badly infected. Obi-Wan, how long have you been hiding this? You should have gone to the healers right away!" Qui-Gon sounded utterly dumbfounded. Deep inside, Obi-Wan felt that last little semblance of hope that he'd managed to hold onto extinguishing as he realized that there was no way he was going to be able to get out of telling him what had happened.

Qui-Gon would tell the Council and the Council would expel him. He'd end up somewhere in the Outer Rim, and that was if he was lucky. He wasn't even skilled enough to be trained as a healer now that he was flaming out. He was thankful for the pain, for the legitimate reason to cry. And cry he did, as Qui-Gon tended to the wound with bacta and the gentlest touch he could manage. He continued to cry as Qui-Gon told him to sit and rest as he got the ship ready for takeoff. He cried harder as the pain finally dulled; as his vision slowly returned and his ear stopped ringing.

It was only as Qui-Gon set course for Coruscant and finally turned his attention back to him that Obi-Wan finally managed to calm himself down enough to speak. It wasn't that he wanted to, but he knew he had to. Qui-Gon wasn't going to allow him to cry forever. Sooner or later he would demand answers, and he'd already made enough of a fool of himself.

"Before you try to speak, I want you to finish your water," Qui-Gon said once Obi-Wan's crying had diminished to the occasional lingering sniffle. The boy didn't need to be told twice. His mouth and throat were dryer than they'd ever been. He had to sit a few moments longer before he could be certain his legs would carry his weight the short distance between his seat and where the Knight had dropped their bags, but if he was about to admit something even more personal than he had back down on the planet he wasn't about to let himself trip over his own feet now.

He knelt beside his bag and carefully opened the bottle of water and a small package of trail rations. All of that crying had reminded him of just how empty his stomach was. Glancing up at Qui-Gon, he could tell that the man wanted an explanation, but he exuded a calm patience that was reminiscent of Master Yoda. Obi-Wan was grateful for it.

Once he had a bit of food and the rest of the water in his stomach, he found that he both felt better and worse. He looked over at Qui-Gon as he stood and slowly walked back to his seat. The Knight didn't seem to be paying attention to him, but the light prodding he could feel across their bond told a different story. He did his best to ignore the prodding as he sat down and looked blankly at the control panel.

"Master Jinn, I—ˮ Obi-Wan started, but stopped just as quickly. How could he even begin? He certainly didn't know. He felt foolish. He felt that he'd overreacted. Worst of all, he knew that it was Qui-Gon's duty to report what he was about to tell him to the High Council.

"Take your time," the Knight replied, reaching over to pat the boy on the shoulder. "I won't rush you."

Obi-Wan glanced over just in time to meet the Knight's gaze, and he nodded slightly to express his gratitude. He took a couple of deep breaths before he attempted to speak again.

"I… I don't really know where I should start. I could just tell you how I got hurt but without context it—ˮ Obi-Wan sighed in frustration. "I don't just want you to think that I—ˮ

"Shh. Obi-Wan I don't want you to consider what I will think. Do not consider me as someone who will judge. I'm not on the Council. I just want what's best for you."

Obi-Wan gave a loud, sharp laugh before clamping both of his hands over his mouth. He was thankful for the bacta that Qui-Gon had liberally slathered across his neck and the way it helped to numb the area. Even with it, that sudden movement hurt. And the laugh had only served to embarrass him further. He felt that gentle prodding across their bond again and he let out a groan of frustration.

"You're just the same as all the others," he said once he was sure he could trust himself not to start laughing. It felt like some kind of horrible joke. Of course, the Force would bond him to a man who was fast revealing himself to be possibly worse than any of the others who had already overlooked him. Of course, the library had held holocron after holocron filled with information about Qui-Gon's many great skills and all the missions he'd successfully completed, but nothing about how kriffing dense he was. "No, you're worse. You tell me to take my time but then you immediately start trying to pry into my thoughts!"

Almost immediately, the prodding stopped and he could feel a thick fog of shame creeping across their bond. Obi-Wan ignored it and continued. "I spent two years trying to learn everything I could about you. I was so excited to get to finally meet you. And you immediately, immediately upon meeting me just cast me aside. You didn't even try to find out anything about me, did you? You didn't want to find out if we'd even be compatible. Because the Force probably got it wrong. Because you don't want an apprentice. You work alone. The great Qui-Gon Jinn, the lone wolf who spent the better part of a decade on Kashyyyk winning the Wookiees' trust. Surely you don't have five kriffing minutes to find out one blasted thing about me!

"I spent my entire life trying to stand out, even a little. If you stand out you get attention. You get praise. You get favor from the Masters. Even if you never end up with a mark you ensure that you'll probably get trained. But the only way I've ever stood out is this stupid mark! I'm too small, too clumsy, too weak in the Force to make any kind of impression on anyone. So, of course, when this stupid thing showed up on my neck I was excited! Who rejects the will of the Force? Who? Nobody, that's who! Nobody in more than a decade! I wasn't even alive the last time a Jedi rejected the will of the Force!" The little Initiate was shouting by this point, and his face was turning red both from ferocity of his shouting and from embarrassment.

"You want to know how I got injured? I did it myself. I was trying to get rid of it," he said coldly after drawing half a dozen shaky breaths. "I tried to hide it. I didn't want to get expelled from the Order. But I didn't want to stare at the reminder that I'm not good enough for even one more minute."

"Obi-Wan, I…" Qui-Gon's voice shook slightly as he tried to find the words to say. He opened his mouth to continue to speak many times, but closed it almost as quickly each time. When finally he seemed to have gathered his thoughts into something he could actually say, the navigation console began beeping loudly, interrupting him to alert the two Jedi that they were too close to Coruscant now to keep the autopilot engaged.

"You and I have many things to talk about," he said once they had finally landed. "But first, I think the Council should hear about your heroism."

"The C- Council?" Obi-Wan stammered. Of course. He wants to get it over with. "Of… Of course. I understand."

Qui-Gon dug around in his bag for a moment before removing a spare tunic that was easily as long as Obi-Wan was tall. Before the boy could protest, he had crossed the cockpit and removed the young man's undertunic, which was now stained with blood and pus. He carefully wrapped the Initiate in the tunic, folding it twice at the waist so it wouldn't fall past his knees. Once Obi-Wan's belt was secured, the tunic didn't look like it was more than two sizes too big for him.

"That ought to be enough to appease the Council," the Knight said after he'd stepped back to take a good look at his work. "And the collar should be tall enough…."

At first, Obi-Wan didn't understand what he'd heard, but as Qui-Gon turned to gather their bags, his eyes widened. He- He doesn't mean to tell the Council what I did to myself?

He wanted to ask for clarification, but by the time he found his voice again Qui-Gon was heading for the hatch. He couldn't dare ask about something so sensitive beyond the protective isolation of the ship. Tugging at the collar of the tunic to make sure it was covering as much of his neck as possible, Obi-Wan hurried after the Knight, following him in silence to the High Council Chamber.

~~~/~~~/~~~

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan found themselves waiting for the Council to be able to grant them an audience for nearly an hour. Obi-Wan chose to spend that time staring out the window and hugging his arms tightly to his stomach, afraid that if he let go he might fall apart again. He wanted so badly to ask Qui-Gon so, so many questions. The most pressing of which was why? Why had he suddenly decided to help him, even if only by saving him the shame of being expelled from the order for purposely hurting himself?

Why didn't he want to train him?

By the time the door to the Council Chamber opened, Obi-Wan's stomach was in knots and he felt as though he might throw up or pass out. Or both. This was it. Qui-Gon was going to demand that they sever the bond now. Would it be painful? Would the Knight regret it?

Would anyone ever want to train him?

"Back so soon, are you? Not much of a training exercise, that was," Yoda said as they walked into the room. Obi-Wan fidgeted with the collar of his tunic and kept his gaze downward. Though he tried to listen to what Qui-Gon was saying, he found that he couldn't see the point. He let his mind wander as he stared at the floor, only vaguely aware of what the Knight that stood beside him was saying.

He found he didn't even want to know how the Knight would phrase it. His affirmation that he would be severing the bond between the two of them. Perhaps if he stared at the floor for long enough he wouldn't even realize that they'd done it. He would just be alone in his own head again and he wouldn't feel that odd, gentle prodding on his consciousness again unless someone decided to train him.

He fought to keep his face neutral. He couldn't allow the Council to see how painful this was for him. Even knowing that they all could feel what he was feeling, he was determined not to show it. He wouldn't cry, not until he got back to his quarters. He promised that much to himself. Even if Maggy confronted him somewhere in between, he wouldn't cry. He wouldn't show any emotion. He—

"…and that is why I have decided to take Initiate Kenobi as my Padawan Learner." Qui-Gon's words cut through the haze of anxious thoughts swirling through the boy's mind. He swallowed hard; suddenly his mouth felt as dry as the deserts of Tatooine. Had he heard correctly? He had to know. Trembling, he glanced up to look at the mountain of a man that stood beside him. His eyes widened as he realized that the mountain was staring right back down at him, a slight smile playing on his lips. "That is, if Obi-Wan still wishes for me to train him."

"Initiate Kenobi?" Master Windu was who spoke this time, and his voice made Obi-Wan jump and subsequently nearly lose his balance. He cringed at his own clumsiness. He hadn't been expecting this. Surely this was a joke. It had to be. "What do you have to say to that?"

"I—ˮ Obi-Wan hesitated. If this was for real, it was everything he had dreamed of since the mark had shown up on his neck two years prior. If it was a cruel joke, however…

He glanced back over at Qui-Gon as if trying to read his intentions. Really? You mean it?

The slight nod Qui-Gon gave in response wasn't as reassuring as he'd hoped it would be, but at least he didn't appear to be lying. He turned back to look at Master Windu. "I would be honored i- if—I—ˮ

"A simple yes or no will suffice," Master Windu said after a few moments longer of the boy stammering as he tried to figure out the appropriate response. The rest of the Council seemed to chuckle, as did Qui-Gon. As did Obi-Wan, relieved that he didn't have to keep trying.

"Y- Yes!" he said with a laugh, before trying to correct himself and display the proper Jedi decorum.