Abrade

Disclaimer: All belongs to the great and powerful Mouse.

Summary: After the tragic events of Stained, Master Jedi Qui-Gon Jinn struggles to lead his apprentice through the painful aftermath of Obi-Wan's first time taking of a life.

A/N: I never really intended Stained to have a sequel, but while I was working on Human, this plot bunny grew from an annoying nibbler to a sharp toothed attack rabbit. Thus, writing this was simply an act of self-preservation. I hope you enjoy the results of my mauling!

A/N 2: While, technically, this story can stand alone, it will make far more sense if you read its predecessor, Stained.

Thanks:

And as always, big thanks to my beta Maeve Pendergast! I couldn't help tweaking a few things, so all mistakes are mine.

Please R&R!

~ABRADE~

The three days it took to travel back to Coruscant were some of the longest and quietest of Qui-Gon's life. He resisted the urge to bite back the sigh that sought escape from his lips. Instead, he allowed it, its soft press of air the only sound in the room. There were times when the master craved a silence as complete as this one after a long mission. The quiet facilitated reflection, introspection, and the eventual acceptance of things that could not be changed. But now... now the lack of sound was oppressive; the space around and within him felt empty and very, very lonely. He wasn't alone of course, but it often felt that way of late.

Obi-Wan had not spoken since that long night the two spent hiding from rebels in an abandoned warehouse on Xjasso'pia. It was the events of that disastrous mission that had led to the uncomfortable silence of their flight.

His Padawan had killed. That it was in self-defense did little to soothe the boy's battered spirit.

Qui-Gon planted both hands on the sole counter of the ship's small galley. He leaned in heavily, his eyes closed, his head resting chin to chest. Every Jedi was responsible for ending the life of another sentient at some point during their lifetime of service. It was both inevitable and regrettable. However, the Jedi in question was usually far older than thirteen standard.

Qui-Gon shook his head and opened his eyes. He stood up straight and reached for the small water pot that sat in a heating niche to his right. The master easily moved through the motions of brewing two cups of tea. It was a task he could accomplish in his sleep and undoubtedly had on occasion. He used the last of the Chandrilan herb tea from the ship's stores. It was not a tea he favored, but the dark purple brew was known for its calming properties. Preparations complete, Qui-Gon gathered both cups and placed it on a small tray where he had also placed some sweet biscuits. He then took the tray with all its contents and headed to the small cabin directly across the short hallway. He pressed the side panel and the door slid open with a quiet hiss. He stepped inside the cramped cabin, allowing the door to close behind him.

His Padawan did not look at him. He did not stir from his position seated on the edge of the room's sole sleep couch. Truthfully, the master had not expected any kind of greeting, but he had hoped...

Qui-Gon sat down on the sleep couch, placing the tray of food and tea between him and his apprentice. Obi-Wan still had not looked at him. The boy simply stared at his own small, pale hands as they rested on his lap. The hands, at least, were clean as were the robes the boy now wore, but Qui-Gon knew that Obi-Wan still saw the stains; even if they were no longer physically present.