Just Easier Than Dealing With the Pain

By: Syntyche

Rated: PG-13

Constructive and/or kind reviews and comments will be appreciated, loved, and cherished. :)

The title is from Soul Asylum's "Runaway Train," if you like music with your fic.

Prologue

Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi offered his departing Master a rare, brilliant smile.

"I wish you well on your journey, Master," he said formally. "May the Force be with you."

Qui-Gon Jinn settled his robe over his broad shoulders, and smoothed out the hair he had carefully bound away from his face. "And with you, my Padawan. I will be in touch when breaks in the celebration allow. Should you need anything while I'm gone, Master Billaba has offered to help in any way she can."

Obi-Wan's forehead creased in mild annoyance. He was nearly twenty-one years old – a bit too old to need a crèche Master. "I have the feeling Master Billaba would be willing to do anything you asked, Master," he said pointedly, arching an eyebrow at his Master.

Qui-Gon glanced at him sharply, but he was used to his apprentice's sarcasm and ignored it. "You would do well to study up on the trade regulations of Drymar III, Padawan – we will be leaving for there shortly after my return from Corellia."

Obi-Wan nodded obediently. "Yes, Master."

A beep from Qui-Gon's comlink announced the readiness of his ship for departure. He gave his apprentice's shoulder a light squeeze. "I'll be back in two weeks, Obi-Wan. Please take care of yourself." He was somewhat surprised when Obi-Wan stepped backward out of his reach, but the small smile he received from his apprentice was genuine.

"Yes, Master. And you be careful, as well."

The Jedi Master's mouth twisted in a wry grimace as he palmed open the door to their apartment. "Thank you, Padawan, but I doubt there will be much danger involved in attending an old friend's wedding."

He just caught Obi-Wan's patient sigh as he headed out the door. "Yes, Master, but as I recall, the last time you attended a Corellian wedding with a week long celebration afterward, it took quite some time for you to get back to your normal, er, sober self … "

"Goodbye, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said dryly, as the door closed firmly behind him.

Chapter One

Obi-Wan's eyes closed tiredly, and he curled himself into as tight a ball as possible. His compact body then occupied only half of the living room sofa, and probably less if he had bothered to pull off his boots. With the hand that wasn't trapped under him, he grasped the corner of his robe and pulled it around him as closely as possible.

Qui-Gon would be home soon. Perhaps it was finally time to ask for help. He hadn't realized how much he relied on his Master's presence until it was absent from his daily routine.

Yes. Qui-Gon would help him.

*

It had started a few months ago with the dreams. Disjointed, confusing night terrors that made anything more than a few hours of restless sleep impossible and leaving him tired and drained in the morning.

His fatigue carried over into everything he did and his concentration began to crumble. Sparring matches with his peers in which he used to be able to hold his own suddenly went to his opponent with little effort on their part at all. Sparring against any of the Masters – including his own – was a disaster.

He did his best to keep up with his personal studies, but more often than not he fell asleep with his head bowed over the reader, making little, if any, progress at all, and was jostled awake too soon when the dreams would start again. His eating habits dwindled to one small meal a day, the evening meal he customarily shared with his Master.

Worst of all, his utter exhaustion allowed doubts and fears he usually managed to keep at bay creep out and viciously attack the tired mind trapped in his slowly weakening body. Insecurity preyed on him, wreaking havoc on his emotion and tainting nearly all his thoughts with uncertainty in himself, his Master, his training, knowledge, discipline – everything he'd ever believed in, especially about himself, was now questioned and re-questioned self-deprecatingly and shoved aside into a tight ball of pain when his mind answered with replies he didn't want to believe. Only a tiny corner of resistance in his mind had kept him going on from day to day and not curled up defensively under the blankets of his sleep couch, hiding from the world and his doubts.

*

But he was even beyond that now. Here he was, coiled on the sofa, trying to hide from the mocking voices in his head and the galaxy in general. Despite his lapses and frustration, he had striven to keep his feelings and misgivings from his Master as much as possible. Perhaps it was time he approached Qui-Gon.

A fine Jedi you are, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You really think your Master will want to help you if you can't even help yourself?

"Shut up," Obi-Wan muttered miserably to the empty room, drawing his knees up further, if that was possible, and pulling the edge of his robe over his face so the only part of his body left visible was one blue-grey iris. Of course Qui-Gon would help him.

Like he needs something else to bother with. Especially you, his worthless apprentice.

Obi-Wan sighed. That much was true. So the young Jedi silently agreed and decided to continue on alone. His wearied mind went on to add most sensibly that the last thing Qui-Gon Jinn needed was to see what a failure and a basket case his apprentice really was, and Obi-Wan Kenobi had no intention of showing him that … especially when the voice reminded him that Qui-Gon hadn't ever really wanted him at all.

Qui-Gon was still away. Obi-Wan exhaled a quiet breath, trying to center himself on his reading, and bent back over his study of the Trade Regulations of Drymar IV. Qui-Gon would want a rehash of what Obi-Wan had learned that they could utilize when they embarked for the distant planet upon Qui-Gon's return.

It wasn't long, however, before Obi-Wan's thoughts began to wander, touching upon nothing in particular, but disrupting his concentration. He frowned, struggling to bring his focus back under control. Qui-Gon would not be pleased if his useless apprentice couldn't provide the information he would need to help settle the Drymarian's trade disputes.

But when he realized he'd read the same paragraph three times over and remembered nothing of it, Obi-Wan finally pushed the reader away in frustration and stood, snatching his lightsaber from its place by the door. Maybe a few rounds with a training droid would wear him down enough to quiet his mind.

end chapter one