I'm Safe Inside Your Head

1. Young One

Ummm, I do what I want with canon. This just happened and some things from canon occurred while others didn't. Some of it will be explained, others will not.

I don't know whether order 66 happened or not but we're definitely past that time.

It's that time again, here's my list of warnings for the whole book:

Nightmares. We're continuing the theme of me giving my OCs trauma, but also the rest of the characters have pretty messed up histories and I didn't make them so you can't blame me for that.

Very brief mentions of past slavery and suspected past slavery. Very, very brief.

Ableism. It's kind of hinted at more than anything blatantly explicit I think. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong. I also don't know if ableism is the right word because it's kind of related to the character's species.

I guess a lot of this book forms around what it means to be fundamentally different in a way that's perceived by others as negative but isn't at all that way to you. I don't know how to explain it.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

The Jedi Temple on Coruscant was an oasis in the desert if sand were noise. Down to its core, the world was a built up landscape of stone and metal, lights flickering with power all over. There was no true darkness on Coruscant. The population was beyond what a single planet should ever hold, those near the top living in luxury while those just a few levels below stumbled from meal to meal, hoping they'd find shelter somewhere when night fell.

The debate between a bit of food and a decent source of warmth. The indignation of a moment's delay to a man not familiar with hearing 'no'. The child's joy at a mother's embrace and another's tantrum over the lack of the latest gizmo.

Stepping into the Temple, Obi-Wan's headache was soothed in the Light that curled warmly over his shoulders. There was nothing quite like coming home.

Of course, even in the peace of home, there were duties to attend to. Duties that brought on the beginnings of a stress headache to replace the one that had been growing from all the noise outside.

He'd promised Madame Nu a conversation on a culture he'd come across on a recent mission. There was paperwork to be done for the High Council as well as a likely growing list of meetings to be conducted posthaste. Anakin had tried to comm him four times in the last hour. Quinlan Vos had sent him a series of messages the likes of which only Quin could ever find sense in. He'd offered to assist in a sparring demonstration for a group of younglings. And, of course, there was all the stuff he was forgetting.

In short, the list was long.

Obi-Wan paused, his feet bringing him to a stop as he glanced around the corridor. It was true he hadn't exactly been paying a huge amount of attention to where he was going, but he'd lived in this temple all his life; he hadn't taken a wrong turn in decades. Yet, despite aiming for his apartment, he'd somehow wandered into the Crèche.

Frowning, he turned slowly back the way he came, taking a step forward. It was enough to confirm his theory, an emptiness opening in his chest like a gaping maw. It brightened with warmth the moment he turned around again.

With a huff, Obi-Wan continued on the path, following the Crèche's main corridor at the Force's behest. Through various doors, excitable little stars fluttered about as younglings so often did, their signatures in the Force as changing as they were.

It was rather sweet, walking among them now. Their unbridled joy was inescapable thanks to their leaky attempts at mental shielding, but that also meant he had to deal with the frustration and overall upset of an entire clan sick with some fever.