Guess who:

"What is going on here? Anakin Skywalker, I told you not to agitate him! What did you say to him? What have you done?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, what have you done with yourself now!" Vokara Che, senior padawan to Master Aakiod Zumin, knew healers weren't supposed to scream at their patients, after all her master had taught her well. But this boy would test the patience of a saint.

Beside the common chilhood ilnesses, there was that episode when he was five and broke his arm chasing a garbage droid down a chute because the damn machine had taken his broken model fighter; at six he had ended up in the Halls with Force exhaustion for trying to heal a Hawk-bat juvenile he'd found with a broken wing; then the dislocated knee he had incurred at eight testing a propelled skate he'd built with his friends from scrap; she hadn't even want to know how he'd gotten the slight chemical burns in his hands or about the purple on then initiate Vos' robes as the other boy carried his friend into the Halls... right around the time Master Windu decided baldness fitted him.

Still, this had to be the most idiotic stunt he'd pulled yet – leaving his master to take part in a war that had nothing to do with him.

Damn the boy, his mischievous streak and his soft heart.

She had known him for the nine years she'd been apprenticed to Master Zumin, she had treated a lot of the younglings but Obi-Wan was the regular resident of these Halls.

Now here he was again a multitude of injuries that would have been healed by now if he had taken the minimal of care and a body abused by stress, lack of proper diet and fatigue. Master Qui-Gon had warned her of his concerns. She hadn't imagine this.

Obi-Wan was looking at her as if waiting for a bomb to go off.

Peace and serenity my ass. She wanted to slap him upside the head, but refrained breathing out her frustrations.

"Can I go?" he made to stand up, but settled at her fulminating glare.

Maybe she could strangle him and no one would notice he was missing?

He tensed just for a second, gaze alert and focused behind her, the doors opened as a droid came into the ward, his eyes remained on the exits from the room. She had noticed his reluctance about keeping his back to the door before, she'd just thought he was being Obi-Wan and plotting his escape, however his flinching at unexpected sounds, with his concentration divided between her and the points of access to the ward... suggested something more was going on, he was displaying symptoms of stress related to trauma.

"How have you been sleeping?" she asked gentling her tone.

"Not very well." he grimaced, she'd caught him by surpriseor he probably wouldn't have responded honestly.

"Nightmares?" He pressed his lips together.

"Anything else? Trouble concentrating or memory gaps?"

Silence.

"How is Bant?" she tried another tack.

"She is fine." he answered curtly

"So you've been to see her since she left the Halls of Healing? What about Garen?"

He looked to the door resolutely not answering, avoiding the subject she thought. Then the door hissed opened again and in came Qui-Gon Jinn moving their way as soon as he spotted them. Obi-Wan was hyper-vigilant, stretching his senses far, keeping tabs on everything happening around him.

Force, you're a mess boy.

As the master approached, Obi-Wan relaxed a little. She must talk with Master Zumin of her suspicions, for now she concentrated on giving the pair her diagnosis and instructions.

Passage from the journal of Obi-Wan Kenobi, 957 ARR (2nd time around, let's try this again)

As soon as she got me in her clutches Vokara decided to rip me a new one, she's always been scary even as a Padawan. Should have been forbidden from the Halls of Healing not gotten promoted to Head of the whole cursed place.

Her bedside manner is the worst I've ever observed and she gets particularly cross with me at a simple scratch. Fortunately I paid attention when she taught me about healing and my previously broken ribs went unnoticed.

[beep, beep; rustle of cloths, scrapping of an old style chair; a sigh; low recorded voice "Obi-Wan Kenobi you better be in bed right now, don't make me come and tuck you in..."; message abruptly cut]

Damn the woman, she really is a good healer. Had she still been alive at the end of the Clone Wars, she would have strapped me to the bed and forced therapy down my throat.

That was never to be, for there was no one there months after when I finally broke.

When the nightmares could no longer be pushed down and started invading my days;

When the trembling became so bad I couldn't hold my lightsaber through the katas;

When the despair became so great I considered ending it all and the anger so out of proportion I almost went after Palpatine.

They were all gone, even the Force unable to reach me through my turmoil.

It took a long time for me to pull myself together. There is nothing more that can be done for me.

I could say the war, the betrayal are now in the past.

That would be a lie.

I carry them with me wherever I go.

I have made peace with that.