The Long Road Back

Chapter Nine: Visions and ghosts, oh my!

~~~~~~~~~~

With Anakin droning on in that raspy monotone, Palpatine let his mind wander. That had been happening a lot lately. He imagined Kenobi as Anakin, with a wife and kid on the way and decided that if the roles of the two had been reversed, Kenobi would be here with him and not in the suit either. It made perfect sense to him that Kenobi still would have won on Mustafar and Anakin still would have been crippled.

He sighed happily. He could almost see Kenobi, with righteous Sith calculation, slicing down the arrogant snot and ruling at his side. Belatedly, he realized Anakin was trying to get his attention. Hmm. Couldn't let it be known he'd been distracted by his own fantasies, now could he?

"I've just had a vision," he intoned in a theatrical voice, wincing a little when he thought he'd possibly overdone the drama. "There has been a great disturbance in the Force...." Palpatine trailed off, squinting in Anakin's direction. The black fabric covered figure didn't move and remained silent, giving Palpatine the irritating notion that the boy was humoring him under the mask. 'A vision. Uh-huh. A disturbance. Of course there was. So why didn't I feel it?' He scowled. "I have seen Kenobi here."

Not a lie, exactly. He did imagine the man here fighting with Anakin. When he allowed himself to drift into a semi-sleep state, he had wonderful dreams about that fight, always ending with the anticipation of it truly occurring. Of course in the dreams, Anakin was not wearing Vader's suit, but rather a strange Jedi-like outfit in some ghastly odd shade of blue. Which was ridiculous, wasn't it? Anakin had no colored clothing in his closets except for black and gray. Palpatine had looked one day when Anakin was on the bridge playing at being Vader. No color anywhere.

"Here?"

"He must be found. You will find him and bring him to me."

"Surely Obi-Wan is dead, Master."

"We've seen no body, my young apprentice. He must be alive. Bring him to me."

There was a long pause and then, "Of...course...my Master. I will do your bidding."

Which, if he was reading the tone correctly, and he was, meant that Anakin thought it was a stupid senseless order and had no intention of actively following it, thereby leaving Palpatine free to send someone else on Kenobi's trail who would do the job seriously. Oh fine. As long as someone found Kenobi.

He waved a hand towards the door. "Be about it then."

He barely noticed Anakin's exit from the room, quickly becoming caught up in his thoughts once more.

Kenobi had persistence. There was ample evidence of that throughout the man's life. Knock him down and he got back on his feet with a cool calm, again and again. Palpatine sighed. In a way, Kenobi was like Jar-Jar Binks, always coming back. Yes, the Sith needed Obi-Wan Kenobi, but how could he convince Kenobi of that?

That night, Palpatine concentrated on Kenobi, sent thoughts and suggestions flowing to him. A difficult talent, that. Influencing dreams. It took skill, though it hadn't taken much to influence Anakin years earlier. That boy had been ripe for thoughts of death and pain. Now, he considered Anakin as his practice case, turning all of his increased skill since then towards Kenobi. The man had to fear something, didn't he?

~~~~~~~~~~

Oh brother, Anakin thought. Here we go again.

Palpatine clearly wasn't listening to a word he was saying. He'd been doing that so much lately that Anakin was beginning to wonder if he was going senile. Vader thought so, insisting that it was a good time to try to kill the old tyrant. Just wait until he goes into one of those self-satisfied trances and strike. He won't see it coming. Yes, Vader was full of ideas on murder. Too many ideas. Anakin kept finding himself reading biographies of well-known long-dead assassins. Vader insisted on it, claiming there must be informative material in the stories if each one hadn't been caught until late in life. A wealth of information just waiting to be tapped.

Though why anyone would raise a fuss over Palpatine dying he didn't know. Anakin suspected there'd be much rejoicing everywhere, including among Palpatine's own bodyguards. He wasn't exactly the easiest person to work for. The death rate among his staff was higher than Vader's had been.

He waited for Palpatine to notice him and when he did, barely managed not to snort. Visions? The old boy was having visions again? What was his big idea this time? Anakin knew the routine by now. Palpatine would have a 'vision' and would send Vader out in pursuit of whatever or whoever it was. Usually, Palpatine already knew where to look, he just didn't want to bother himself with it. It was just an excuse to have Vader running around the galaxy like a --

What was that? Obi-Wan? What did he want with Obi-Wan?

Anakin perked up a little. Interesting. Was this a real vision or another one of Palpatine's fool runs? Both maybe? Quickly he decided he wasn't interested in really hunting down Obi-Wan. Wherever he was, let him relax in peace. He deserved a rest, far away from the empire.

Bring him to me, Palpatine ordered though.

Yeah sure, he thought. I'll make that my first priority -- after meeting my mystery lady.

Anakin left the room and went to write another letter to Waiting. She was so sweet to be concerned about his treatment. He was feeling much better since the light had turned out to be the culprit of his last problems. With it gone, his moods had regulated and Vader was slipping back behind him. Doc had scheduled them a long session mid-week, claiming he'd discovered something that could be the key to Lord Vader's problems. Anakin wondered what it was.

~~~~~~~~~~

He woke with a gasp, sheets twisted about his body and sweat coating his skin. Tossing the covers off, Obi-Wan swung his legs over the side of the bed and put his head in his hands. After a long moment, and so he wouldn't wake Dormé, he reached for his robe and left the room.

He was sipping a warm drink and watching the beauty of a Tatooine sunrise when Dormé came out and slipped her arms around him.

"Bad dreams," she asked.

He kissed her temple, then set the drink down and embraced her. "Yes. They happen on occasion."

"Was it a bad one?"

"Very. I'm a bit shaken, but it'll fade in a few minutes I'm sure."

Raising a hand, she smoothed his hair back from his forehead. "You're having a lot of those." She smothered a yawn. "Anything I should know about?"

Obi-Wan slid his hand across her belly. "Just the usual anxieties of parenthood. Irrational, mostly."

"You'll be a good father, Ben. Don't worry about it. Everyone has those fears. I've been doing some reading and the books all say that anxiety is natural."

"I know." Bending his head, he kissed her, then released her. "It's far too early for you to be up and about. Go back to bed. You need your rest. I'll wake you with breakfast in an hour or so."

Dormé smiled. "You're too good to me."

"I do try."

When she had gone, he acknowledged the shimmering figure that had been waiting. "Master."

"Sith tricks, Obi-Wan. Blind searchings influencing your dreams. Someone, either Palaptine or Vader, is searching about for you using that technique. My credits are on Palpatine." Qui-Gon stroked his beard between thumb and forefinger. "Interesting. Why search for you if he has Anakin firmly in his grasp as Vader?"

"Perhaps he doesn't have Anakin as firmly as he likes, or perhaps the Sith nature demands constant treachery and he's looking for a new apprentice. Though he'd have to be daft to think I'd join him."

~~~~~~~~~~

Dormé stood for a moment, listening. She cocked her head to one side with a frown.

My husband has an imaginary friend, she thought. Shouldn't he have grown out of that by now?

Turning, she made her way back to the small patio area. His back was to her and she tried to make some sense of the...conversation? Was that the right word for his soft murmurings?

He mentioned Anakin and Vader and paused now and again, nodding as though really listening to someone.

Oh Ben, I'm so sorry. She crossed her arms. The stress of impending fatherhood must have pushed him right over the edge.

~~~~~~~~~~

As Obi-Wan spoke, he became aware of Qui-Gon's expression shifting to amusement and suddenly knew Dormé had finally caught him talking to what she would perceive as thin air. Obi-Wan turned. Qui-Gon went to lean against the doorway beside Dormé. "Oh hello."

"You're talking to yourself again. Don't think I haven't heard you before." She sighed. "I've heard Doctor Ashel in Mos Eisley is very good with this sort of thing. We'll make an appointment first thing in the morning."

"This sort of...? No, no, I'm not crazy," he assured her.

Qui-Gon snickered in an unbecoming fashion. As a ghost, Obi-Wan would think he'd keep at least some elegance, but no, he'd become even freer with his opinions than he'd already been. "Well, she does know you, Obi-Wan. I'm sure the thought has crossed her mind before. Perceptive woman."

"If you're not, then why are you talking to plain air?"

"It's difficult to explain."

"I have the time."

"This should be good," Qui-Gon looked as though he planned to settle in for awhile. Obi-Wan thought it'd probably be easier to explain without the comments from his direction.

"Don't help," he suggested, then waved a hand as Dormé's brows lifted. "Not you, my love. I was talking to..." He leaned against the wall. Best to just say it. "I was talking to Qui-Gon."

"Qui-Gon," she repeated. Her hard stare rivaled any Mace Windu had ever directed his way. Her gaze slid sideways in Qui-Gon's direction, swept the entire area beside her and returned to him, softening just a fraction. "Isn't he dead, Ben?"

"Yes."

Qui-Gon shifted position. "More or less. I prefer the term Master Yoda coined: corporeally challenged. He's becoming rather clever in those combinations, Obi-Wan. You really should contact him soon, I worry for him on that planet all by himself."

While he doubted Master Yoda was going dotty, he made a mental note to contact him soon.

"Love of my life. Sweetie." Dormé came to him, taking his face in her hands and smoothing her thumbs along his beard. "Dead is dead."

"Not quite. He's a ghost."

Qui-Gon joined them, making tsk-ing noises. "I'm sure you'll like Doctor Ashel very much. She's right, he does have quite a reputation."

Dormé didn't look like she believed him, but she didn't look like she doubted him, either. That was a good sign. "So you've been talking to this ghost?"

Embracing her, he tried to ignore Qui-Gon, which was of course impossible, as his former Master stood as close as he could. "He become one with the Force, but he is still himself."

She nodded. "One with the Force. Okay." Her eyes narrowed and she tilted her head. "Is this some completely normal, yet thoroughly weird Jedi thing no one but Jedi can understand fully?"

"Normal?" Qui-Gon shrugged. "Well I suppose it could be called normal for the times we now live in. A decade ago, you'd have a nice padded room in the Temple infirmary."

"Completely normal," Obi-Wan assured her.

Dormé smiled and relaxed. "Well why didn't you say so in the first place? Letting me worry like that." Her hands slipped under his robe, sliding along his sides and inching towards his back in a mini-massage. Suddenly, she stopped, giving a glance left and right. "Wait a minute. I can't see him. He can see me though, yes? He doesn't.... He hasn't...." She licked her lips with a frown. "He's not around when I'm changing clothes or...naked or we're.... He turns his back at least, right?"

Stepping back with a snort, Qui-Gon remarked. "Of course I don't watch her."

"He doesn't watch, Dormé. My Master is an honorable--"

"Well anymore," Qui-Gon continued. "And not since you married her."

"Anymore?" Obi-Wan stared at him. He'd better be kidding. "You'd better not have--"

"Oh simmer down, Obi-Wan. I'm joking. You need to relax. Have some fun once in awhile." He winked. "Though some would say you've been having too much fun." With a pat to Dormé's belly, he was gone.

Dormé gasped, hand pressing to her belly. "Oh my!" Grabbing his hand, she held it to the spot. "Ben, feel! Can you feel it?"

Feel it? How could he not? A hard push against his palm. Sinking onto his knees, Obi-Wan shoved up the layers of her nightgown in order to see the spot. There it was, the beautiful...slightly creepy sight of a foot pressing out. At least he thought it was a foot. Maybe it was a hand. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to the spot, then his cheek. Their baby. Life.

"I am so happy right now," he told her.

After a long moment of silence, he heard Dormé's voice, soft and tentative. "Um...he left, right? Because you weren't supposed to throw my nightgown up like that. I'm not decent for company right now, Ben. What will he think?"

"He's gone."

She sighed in obvious relief. "Oh good. Could you ask him to start ringing a bell or something? Just to let me know he's arrived? I can't be a good hostess if I don't know he's there."

Obi-Wan laughed. Only his wife would worry over being a good hostess for a Force ghost.