Obi-Wan is having a bad day.
His knees are pulled up to his chin in one of the quiet corners of the armory. He can see everything from here, he’ll see any threat coming.
No one's paying him any attention, something he's terribly grateful for. He isn't sure if it's because they haven't noticed him yet or if they're being polite and quite frankly he doesn't care. The background noise of activity is grounding. The methodical movements almost soothing to watch.
He wonders if his mind healer has told Jango he hasn’t shown up for their appointment yet.
He just-, he can’t do it right now.
He buries his face into his knees and takes the deepest breath he can manage.
He wonders if Jango’s realized he’s gone yet.
He’ll go to the gardens first, Obi-Wan knows. He’ll go there first because he knows Obi-Wan loves them.
Obi-Wan is having a very bad day.
The kind of day that has the mere sight of the gardens triggering tears he can’t bear to explain.
It doesn’t usually look like home, really, it hardly looks like home at all.
It looks too much like home right now.
He knows he should meditate, center himself in the Force.
It’ll make him feel better.
Everything just feels too raw.
The thought of trying to explain how he feels to anyone makes him want to claw his skin off.
His current mind healer is a nice woman. She’s his third attempt. The first one had eyes that were kind but he was tall with dark hair and the shape of his chin was too familiar. The second made a comment about his people that had him storming out, breathing exercises the only thing stopping him from punching them in the face.
Too angry, isn’t that what they said? He certainly feels it sometimes, so intensely it frightens him.
Yes, this is by far his best attempt at mind healing.
The problem is… she doesn’t understand.
She can’t understand and sometimes that hurts almost more than if she was a poor excuse of a mind healer.
He can tell her how much he wants someone to nudge him in the Force and how terrified he is of it all he wants and she won’t understand.
She won’t understand how lonely it is, to be alone and not.
The one thing he wants more than anything, that soft connection of his childhood, not cruel probing or uncaring demand, just that gentle press of comfort, and it sends him into a panic.
The worst part of it is… he knows in his heart that if his friends were here, his precious beloved family, they would be the same. Their touch would turn cold and cruel, his mind would not recognize it for the comfort it is.
He breathes, in and out.
He’s having a bad day.
The armory buzzes, almost, in the Force. Focus and curiosity and determination all blending together. It’s almost overwhelming but all he can think about is the fact he can feel it.
Obi-Wan tries to focus on the sounds of armor being formed, the murmur of old stories being told and not on his own roiling emotions.
Coruscant was not built in a day.
He is not a lost cause.
He will heal, he will.
He will get better and some day, one day, he won’t think of Xanatos when another presence brushes up against his mind.
He’s still having a bad day.
He tips his head back against the wall and sighs.
There’s a slight scraping sound from in front of him, probably made on purpose.
Obi-Wan doesn’t want to open his eyes.
He does anyway.
“Su’cuy Arla.” The words feel wrong and garbled but it’s not like he can take them back.
“Su’cuy Obi-Wan.” He closes his eyes again and focuses on the cool stone behind his head, it almost feels nice. “I thought I might find you here.”
Her comm makes a quiet noise to indicate a message has been sent.
She doesn’t leave like he somehow expects her to, Jango notified and no doubt on his way. Instead, she shifts to sit next to him.
“Bad day?”
Obi-Wan sighs and nods.
“How’d you know I was here?”
She hums a thoughtful note. “Jango mentioned that the gardens remind you of your home.”
“Yes.” It comes out flat.
“The armory reminds me of before, when I was young and happy, sometimes.” She confides. “Death Watch never let us near the armorers, something about not being worthy, as if that is what the armory is about. It isn’t something I have bad memories of. I am much better now but back when everything was new I couldn’t stand it. I hated remembering how things used to be so I would go and hide in the gardens.”
She slowly leans closer to him and Obi-Wan lets her.
“I wish it didn’t hurt.” He whispers. “I love them so much and I trust them not to hurt me but-.”
“It doesn’t stop the moment of fear.”
“No, it doesn’t stop it.”
She tilts her head so it’s leaning slightly on top of Obi-Wan’s head.
“It gets better right?” He feels like a child, asking her, but he can’t take the words back. Of course it gets better, it has to.
“Yes.” She says it with a fierceness that almost startles him but not quite. “I have had many bad days Ob’ika and I will no doubt have many more but one day, one day you will wake up and the sun will shine and your eyes will not dance with half remembered nightmares and surviving will feel like a gift and not a struggle.”
He isn’t quite sure he believes it, right now.
It’s still a bad day.
But, they are not all bad days. Even now, they are not all bad. Even now, if he lets himself, he can remember his first bite of tiingilar and Jango’s attempts to find his favorite shig. Even now, he can remember the breathless joy of watching the sword dancers and the bittersweet happiness of the gardens.
They are not all bad days.
He just needs to remember that.
He relaxes as much as he can and lets Arla’s soft humming lull him into some measure of calm.
He's going to be alright.