[ He accepts the hug as much to give comfort as to receive it. He knows that his pain hurts Qui-Gon.
To an outside observer, especially one without Force ability, within that hug he seems very passive. With his chin down and eyes closed so that his forehead rests against Qui-Gon, hands only loosely gripping Qui-Gon's robes, it looks like he is being hugged without returning it, possibly even just tolerating it.
What he is actually doing is using Qui-Gon as a grounding rod.
This close, this firmly held, he's surrounded by warmth and weight and familiar scent. He can feel the rise and fall of Qui-Gon's breathing. They give him something solid and safe to use to fight the urge to suppress (and therefore hold tightly onto) the deep, bleeding ache of grief and the sharper sting of pain and failure. They keep him anchored in the present, rather than allowing him to sink too deeply into the past. ]
No. [ Without looking up, his breathing synched with Qui-Gon's, voice still... cracking and rough but not strained, now. ] but it was my responsibility.
no subject
To an outside observer, especially one without Force ability, within that hug he seems very passive. With his chin down and eyes closed so that his forehead rests against Qui-Gon, hands only loosely gripping Qui-Gon's robes, it looks like he is being hugged without returning it, possibly even just tolerating it.
What he is actually doing is using Qui-Gon as a grounding rod.
This close, this firmly held, he's surrounded by warmth and weight and familiar scent. He can feel the rise and fall of Qui-Gon's breathing. They give him something solid and safe to use to fight the urge to suppress (and therefore hold tightly onto) the deep, bleeding ache of grief and the sharper sting of pain and failure. They keep him anchored in the present, rather than allowing him to sink too deeply into the past. ]
No. [ Without looking up, his breathing synched with Qui-Gon's, voice still... cracking and rough but not strained, now. ] but it was my responsibility.