Undone

Bruises

Master Jinn stood at the door to his apartment for several minutes as he released his anger into the Force. That particular emotion was dispatched easily enough, but the old man was having a far more difficult time parting with his frustration and disappointment.

Qui-Gon sighed heavily, then palmed open the door and stepped inside. He casually looked around the apartment. His apprentice was nowhere to be seen. He closed his eyes and reached out over their bond. Obi-Wan was in his room hiding behind closed doors and heavy shields, yet even so, brief wisps of anxiety leaked across the bond confirming the boy's worry like sea spray confirmed the presence of an ocean.

"Padawan."

A door quietly opened. A sheepish looking teenager stepped out, his head down, his fingers nervously pulling at the hem of his robes. At first Qui-Gon thought the boy was staring at his boots simply to avoid his master's gaze, but as he studied his apprentice further it seemed Obi-Wan was hiding something else from him.

"Come here, Padawan," he said his voice stern, but not hard. Obi-Wan obeyed and stepped forward until he was standing directly in front of his master. Qui-Gon noticed that the boy had still not raised his head and the old master had a reasonable suspicion why.

"There is no sense trying to hide. Let me see," he gently ordered. Obi-Wan sighed, but obediently lifted his head so that his master could properly see his face. As the old man suspected a deep purple and black bruise rested puffily around the boy's right eye. Qui-Gon's finger traced the outside edge of the bruise. He saw his apprentice flinch under even this light touch. For a moment, the paternal part of Qui-Gon considered using the Force to speed the healing of the black eye, but the mentor in him thought perhaps this lesson might be better learnt if the discomfort remained.

"Sit," he said as he gestured to the large couch of their common room. Obi-Wan complied and slogged dejectedly to his seat. He slouched into the cushions and absently wrung his hands. Qui-Gon went into the compact kitchen and retrieved a small flimsiplast bag that he began to fill with ice. He then returned to his charge and handed him the compress which the student both reluctantly accepted and dutifully placed against his swollen face.

"Now, my young apprentice, care to explain how this occurred?" Qui-Gon asked as he crossed his arms over his chest. Obi-Wan glanced up at his master with his uncovered eye before returning his gaze to the floor, a flush creeping up his ears.

"There is no excuse, Master. I let my anger control my actions. I know better than to do that," he paused. "I'm sorry."

"You are right, Padawan and I am very disappointed in you." Qui-Gon could see the boy wince under his words, but he continued. "There is no excuse for your behavior, but I would like to know the reason for it," Qui-Gon finished. The old man had already been told the gist of the situation by the boy's saber instructor who had caught him fighting with another padawan, Bruck Chun. Qui-Gon was well aware that Bruck had been somewhat of a bully to Obi-Wan over the years, but now that the boys were padawans Qui-Gon had hoped they had outgrown such behavior. It was now clear to the master that that was not the case.

Obi-Wan raised a cautious eye to his master who greeted the boy's unspoken inquiry with a raised eyebrow. Obi-Wan sighed defeatedly.

"You know how he is, Master. I tried to ignore him. I tried to remain calm and just walk away, but... Bruck always knows..." he said his voice trailing off until his last words were lost to Qui-Gon.

"Bruck always knows what?" he asked. Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortably. He looked away from his master before answering.

"He always knows exactly where it hurts," the boy answered quietly.