Reposting this because my Co-Author .mcstupd does not know how to , lol. We don't own Star Wars, all that jazz.
Warning: this fic does contain M-preg. If that is your squick, please hit the back button.
Obi-Wan stared in disgust at the files displayed on the screen in front of him. The result of a few weeks of careful slicing and information analysis, his inauspicious first solo mission was quickly becoming a beast of a odd disappearances were revealed to be outright kidnappings. The results had also raised suspicions, which he carefully coded into his report for the Council, to be sent in his next data-burst tomorrow. It wasn't that they hadn't been waiting for her to rear her torturing face since her escape from prison, but Obi-Wan hadn't expected this mission to Ryloth lead him straight to her.
Jenna Zan Arbor.
Qui-Gon would call for him to be pulled from this mission or lobby to join him as soon he found out. Obi-Wan shuddered at the memory of the abuse his Master had suffered at her hands, the anguish he had felt as he guided the older man to safety.
No, Qui-Gon wasn't coming anywhere near Ryloth if Obi-Wan could help it.
Mind made up, Obi-Wan saved the report, the hacked files, and his analysis, and added them to those already contained in the pre-prepared data-burst. By the time it sent to the Council in twelve hours, he would hopefully be back from infiltrating the complex he had been monitoring so carefully. The files he needed for solid proof of the kidnappings could not be so easily obtained via remote slicing, but once he had them his mission would be done and a proper team would be sent to deal with the findings.
He drew his cloak about him and stepped down the ramp, determined to return in time for breakfast.
He gained access to the complex by scaling a five meter fence at a hole in the guard perimeter. He inched carefully across the grounds, keeping to the shadows and avoiding dirt where possible. Even if someone were to glimpse him, he would leave no evidence that he was more than a shadow himself. It wasn't until he picked open the latch on an emergency access door to enter the massive building that took up a significant portion of the grounds that he paused, an odd dread surrounding him.
Obi-Wan hated it when the Force sent him bad feelings in the middle of a mission.
He pried open the door and clambered through, only to be met with alarm klaxons, and a durasteel plate slamming down over the only way forward. "If they didn't know I was here before, they certainly do now," Obi-Wan groused, "I guess I'd better get to work before company finds me."
Obi-Wan took his saber and plunged it into the durasteel plate, laboriously cutting an opening into it. He wasn't fast enough though. Heavy footsteps echoed in the adjacent corridor, coming towards the door. Just as he finished cutting, the door opened and blaster fire shot through into the room. He dodged the first shot, bringing his lightsaber up in a defensive position. Three large Duros blasted their way into the room, Obi-Wan was a blur of motion as he deflected the heavy fire. He reached out with one hand, and with a mighty Force push, knocked one of the Duros against the far wall. He hit hard and fell to the ground, where he lay unmoving.
'One down, two to go. I should finish this quickly before reinforcements arrive.'
Obi-Wan deflected an oncoming shot at the second Duro and rushed the third. His attacker made to fire again, but he raised his hand and grabbed the offending blaster with the Force, yanking it free as he dealt a blow to the Duros' head with the hilt of his saber. He spun again, parrying more blaster fire from the hallway, and deflecting it back towards its origin. Gathering the Force around him and wary of fighting Duros on two fronts, he sent a massive Force push down the hall, leaving his opponents in a heap and attempting to regain their feet. He took his chance and bolted, using the Force to leap past the pile of struggling bodies and turned the first corner he could find, only to grind to a halt at a searing pain in his abdomen.
A Duros with a blaster stood in front of him. Obi-Wan looked down to see that he had been shot. But the Duros would not hesitate to shoot again, so he raised his saber once more as they stared each other down. He heard footsteps behind him and knew that the rest of Zan Arbor's thugs had caught up as well. He deflected the first shot, and then second, but a third hit him in the shoulder, causing his saber arm going limp with the pain. He was aware of another shot striking his leg, and then collapsed to the floor, where he watched a pair of boots approach, before a blow to his temple left him in merciful unconsciousness.
Waking up was unpleasant. His shoulder and side throbbed, his leg was on fire,and the pain in his head left him groggy and nauseous.
"You idiots, I told you to bring him to me unharmed!" a woman was screaming, but he wasn't willing to turn his head towards the noise and identify the yeller.
"The only reason you lot are still alive is because these are flesh wounds! This is the strongest Force sensitive we have managed to capture, and I have a personal interest in him."
Something about the voice was familiar. He was certain he had heard it somewhere before. Wasn't he meant to be on a mission? Was it something to do with that? He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, wincing when all it did was cause a new spike of pain from his temple. It did however suddenly dawn on him that he was probably drugged, the fog in his mind too much for a simple concussion to account for. If he could just focus enough to harness the Force, he could purge the effects from his body and attempt to heal himself enough to escape.
He closed his eyes and fought the vertigo as he was moved up onto a table. Something that felt like straps were stretched across his ankles, chest, and wrists. He fought the urge to struggle, managing to keep still and feign unconsciousness. He needed them to think he was compliant if he was going to escape. The Force was already hard at work purging the chemicals from his body.
He was ready; he was clear headed and able to fight. Now he just needed to wait for the right moment. Obi-Wan opened his eyes and pretended to come to. Soon after, footsteps echoed around the room, slowly making their way towards him.
"Well if it isn't my dear old friend, Obi-Wan Kenobi," Jenna Zan Arbor crooned, as she stalked towards him with a sheet of 'plast in her hands.
Obi-Wan inclined his head. "Zan Arbor. I would say it is a pleasure to see you again, but really it isn't."
Zan Arbor smiled. "You always were the one to mouth off," she said, stepping closer to him. 'Closer, closer… NOW!'
Obi-Wan snapped his head toward into Zan Arbor's nose. As she fell back he harnessed the Force to open his bindings. Obi-Wan bolted off of the bed and used Force-enhanced speed to sprint to the door, but before he could open it, a wave of pain swept over him as he was electrocuted, and he fell to the floor with a gasp. After the spasms died down he tried to get up, but his body would not obey him.
"Did you really think I was that stupid?" Zan Arbor asked, as she walked up to him. He heard the door behind him open and two Duros grabbed him by his arms and pulled him up. "I have state of the art security, and stun guns positioned throughout the room, coded to your DNA." Zan Arbor grabbed his chin, and turned his head towards the corner where he could indeed see one of the guns. She let go, and the Duros dragged his unresisting body back towards the table. "Now look, you're bleeding again. You've exasperated your wound. We'll need to take care of that," she said, walking around to the front of the table. "You know, I was hoping we could do this the easy way," she mused, "I would get much more comprehensive test results, but if you are going to be difficult we can always use this."
Obi-Wan let his head flop towards Zan Arbor as the thugs maneuvered his arms and legs back into the straps. He was shocked by what he saw. A Force Inhibitor. His eyes widened "Where did you get one of those?"
"Oh I have all sorts of friends you don't know about," she smirked, and placed the collar around his neck.
Obi-Wan had to fight back panic. He had been under the influence of inhibitors before, he could do it again. But as the cold metal snapped around his neck, he caught his breath. In that moment it was like he was blinded, a whole sense that gave texture and meaning to the world around him taken away. He forced himself to control his breathing. "You won't get away with this," he snarled.
Zan Arbor laughed. "I don't see anyone here trying to stop me." Then she stepped forward and plunged a needle she was holding into his arm, and all he knew was darkness.
Qui-Gon looked at his hand of sabacc cards, then up at what Tahl had played. It was clear that she was losing badly. It was strange to think that she hadn't improved as a sabacc player since they were Padawans themselves.
Qui-Gon placed down a card and Tahl scowled. "I think you are cheating," she accused.
Qui-Gon put on a hurt expression. "Tahl, my dearest friend, I don't know why you besmirch my honor this way."
Tahl snorted, "I know people on the Council. It is a fact that in some of your mission reports you have implied you used the Force to spin luck in your favor to gain extra cash."
Qui-Gon smiled. "Alas you know me too well. But in this case, I am not cheating. You are just terrible at Sabbac."
Tahl sighed and threw her cards down. "Which is why I know something is up. You like a challenge when you play, so clearly you're just using me as a distraction. What's bothering you Qui?"
Qui-Gon winced. Was he really that transparent? He set his cards down and folded his hands in front of him, looking directly into Tahl's sightless eyes. "Obi-Wan hasn't reported in to the Council in over twenty-four hours."
"Oh Qui, there could be tons of reasons why he didn't report. Remember, on your first solo mission, Dooku was sent to retrieve you because you forgot to transmit your messages for two days," Tahl said reassuringly.
Qui-Gon blushed; that was certainly not one of his finer moments, but with age comes wisdom. "Obi-Wan is usually the one to remind me to check in during a mission, so it is unlikely that he forgot."
"You're being a mother hen, Qui. Obi-Wan is a capable Padawan, he can take care of himself," Tahl replied.
"If there is one thing we know about Obi-Wan, it is that he is a magnet for trouble," Qui-Gon said ruefully. Then, more soberly, "Tahl, I have a bad feeling about this."
Tahl turned serious quickly, reaching out to take Qui-Gon's hand. "Look, go to sleep, and if he doesn't report back in tomorrow, I'm sure the Council will let you stage a rescue mission." Tahl smiled. "Just don't stay up all night worrying about it, okay? Promise me you'll at least get some sleep."
Qui-Gon grinned. "Now who is being the mother hen?
Tahl laughed. "Okay, I see how it is, you stupid barve. Now make me some tea and then go get some sleep."
Just as the sun was rising the next day, Qui-Gon sat himself down to meditate. He closed his eyes, the breathing pattern second nature to him at this point, and let himself sink into a trance. He expanded his awareness, feeling the inhabitants of the Temple, but he wanted to go further than that. He stretched beyond the planet, stretching past more than he had ever gone before. He was sweating and shaking, but he was almost there! Just a little more...But where Obi-Wan should be, Qui-Gon couldn't touch his mind. It was like the bond didn't exist. He might have thought it was severed, but thanks to that horrible day with Xanatos, he now knew what a severed bond felt like. He pressed harder, but the wall wouldn't budge. All he got for his efforts was a headache.
Qui-Gon opened his eyes and stood up, only to stagger to the side and almost fall back down. He took a deep breath. He would regain his strength, and then he would approach the Council.
Obi-Wan opened his eyes and everything was blurry. He squinted to clear his vision, but it didn't help. A familiar smell assaulted him. He knew that smell…it was bacta. 'How did I end up in the Healer's ward this time,' he wondered. It was hard to focus; everything was fuzzy. He was on a mission, right? A mission on Ryloth, looking for missing persons, then something happened? Then it hit him. Jenna Zan Arbor! She had captured him! He moved his arms sluggishly in an attempt to swim to the top of the bacta tank, but two pairs of hands plunged into the tank, grabbed him, and dragged him up before he could attempt it.
He tried to raise his hands to remove the mask, but his arms felt leaden. He brought his hands up again and knocked them against the mask, dislodging it from his face. The two, lab attendants by the look of them, helped him down to the floor. He looked around, trying to take stock of the room for an escape, but everything was spinning too much for him to concentrate. One attendant held him while the other ran a rough towel over his over-sensitized skin, drying the excess bacta off and Obi-Wan had to fight not to blush when he realized that he was naked.
After he was sufficiently dried, the lab attendants grabbed Obi-Wan and lifted him onto a durasteel gurney. He shivered as he touched the cold metal surface. He tried frantically not to vomit from the movement, but the change in position caused a wave of vertigo. He faded in and out as they wheeled him through the halls. He was still able to keep track of where they were going, memorizing the order of turns as they went. That would make an escape attempt easier.
They wheeled him through a set of doors and back into the first room he woke up in. The Duros grabbed him roughly and moved him to the exam bed, and started to buckle the straps around his limbs. Obi-Wan tried to tear his arms out of their grasp, but their hands felt like solid durasteel.
He heard the distinct click of shoes, and knew instinctively it was Zan Arbor, even though he couldn't sense her. She lightly ran her hands over his abdomen. Obi-Wan flinched at the feathery touch and Zan Arbor smirked. She turned toward one of the attendants. "No marks at all. It is completely healed?"
"Yes ma'am, the bacta healed all the surface damage, and we suspect the tissue damage as well, but we need to bring in the scanner to check," the female attendant replied.
Obi-Wan looked down at his stomach and realized that the blaster wound was completely healed. It left a sinking feeling in his gut. Somehow, the thought of Zan Arbor wanting him whole for her procedures was more intimidating than if she had left him bleeding. If she had healed him, she wanted him long term, and he didn't want to think about what she wanted him for.
"Good." Zan Arbor smiled "Beathar, go and get the scanner. Luatat, help me get the samples we need."
Beathar went out of the room, while Zan Arbor and Luatat grabbed some medical equipment from a nearby tray. Obi-Wan gulped. He had no love for the Healer's Ward, and he had a feeling these people would be far worse than his visits with Healer Lyonava. Zan Arbor drove a needle into a vein on his arm, none too gently.
"What wonderful bedside manner you have," he gritted out as she started to fill a rather large vial with his blood.
"You are not a patient, young Kenobi, you are a test subject," Zan Arbor replied coldly. The sinking feeling in his stomach came back worse than ever.
Luatat shoved a swab into his mouth and made him gag, but thankfully pulled it out quickly, having gotten what she needed. The other attendant came into the room with a large durasteel machine he assumed was the scanner. He wheeled it over next to the bed and pulled out a large screen over him. He pressed a button and the machine came humming to life.
Zan Arbor and the attendants stood around the scanner silently. "Everything looks good. I want scans done every day to monitor," Zan Arbor said, staking towards the exit. One of the attendants started to pack up the scanner while the other one was attaching various electrodes to him to monitor his vitals. Then the two attendants started to leave and Obi-Wan perked up. Maybe with them gone he would have time to find a way off of this infernal table and a way to circumnavigate the stun guns. Zan Arbor stopped and turned around and any hope of escape vanished with her words. "Oh and I want him drugged at all times. I don't want another escape attempt." She smiled as she left the room.
Beathar came over and went to insert a needle into his wrist. Obi-Wan struggled against the restraints, but it was no use. The straps held him firm. The needle slid home and she attached an IV to it. Almost immediately, things started to go fuzzy again, and the last thing Obi-Wan heard before he fell asleep was the door sliding shut as the last person in the room left.
He woke sporadically, but was too disoriented to tell how much time has passed. It could have been a day, or weeks. His existence was a blur of tissue samples, blood samples and scans followed by intermittent bouts of sleep. He didn't know what she was looking for with his midichlorians that she hadn't already found from her experiments with Qui-Gon, but whatever it was, apparently she was still searching.
His days were repetitive; a predictable schedule of needles and drugs and Zan Arbor's leering smile, followable even through the haze of sedatives. Sometimes he wondered how long he'd been confined there, experimented on. Other days Obi-Wan was afraid of the answer. Certainly it had been long enough for the Council to send someone.
No one ever came though, and he fought the sedatives less and less, not wanting to exist as the lab rat he'd become. Everything was one never-ending day, his internal clock devastated by his separation of the Force and the cocktail in his bloodstream. Until one day, suddenly, it wasn't.
He awoke to the shrill sound of blaster fire. Woozily, Obi-Wan turned his head towards the noise, taking a long time to place it through the haze. It was coming from the corridor. He stared stupidly for a few minutes before he belatedly realized that this could be a rescue. He strained, trying to listen past the low background noise of the medical equipment in the lab, his eyes falling shut in relief as he heard it. Lightsabers, the beautiful sound of a humming lightsaber. He was saved.
A few moments later the blaster fire stopped and the doors opened to reveal Jedi Knight Quinlan Vos, and Obi-Wan's Master, Qui-Gon Jinn. "It took you long enough," Obi-Wan slurred out. At least he thought it had, he had no clue how much time had actually passed.
Quinlan laughed. "Wow Obi-Wan, they have you on the good stuff don't they?"
"Stop laughing at me and get me down from this kriffing table," Obi-Wan scowled. This seemed to be even funnier than what he said last time, because Quinlan just laughed louder, though both he and Qui-Gon did come closer and start undoing the straps. As soon as they were undone, he tried to slide off the table onto his feet, but quickly lost his balance.
Quinlan quickly grabbed him and turned to Qui-Gon to speak. "I've got this covered, go and see if you can stop that witch from escaping."
Qui-gon hesitated and looked like he wanted to argue, but he paused, nodded and strode swiftly towards the door. Obi-wan watched him go with regret. He wished it was his Master standing there, instead of Knight Voss. "I'm cold."
Quinlan chuckled. "No kidding, I can't believe that's all you're saying about your state right now." He took off his cloak and wrapped it around Obi-Wan, helping him into a seated position. Quinlan joined him on the floor and said, "If you were in your right mind right now, you would be worried about your virtue."
Obi-Wan looked at Quinlan coyly from under his lashes. "Why, did you see something you like?" he asked slyly.
Quinlan went from smirking to a full out belly laugh at that. "You know you are never going to live this down right? This is a story that will be told for years to come."
Obi-Wan gave him a disgruntled look, but before he could reply Qui-Gon strode back into the room.
"Let me guess, she escaped," Quinlan deadpanned, rising back to his feet.
"Very observant of you to notice I didn't bring a prisoner with me, Knight Vos." Qui-gon replied in jest. "While we are here, we should gather any evidence she left behind."
"Got it," Quinlan called over his shoulder as he walked towards the data terminal on the far wall. He took out a data chip from a pouch on his belt and inserted it into the terminal. After typing for a few moment, he shook his head. "It is all highly encrypted. I can copy it, but we'll need the analysts at the temple to decode it before we can get anything off of it."
"At least she didn't wipe the data," Qui-Gon replied. "Obi-Wan, we must leave before more guards arrive. Can you walk?" He offered Obi-Wan his hand, and helped his Padawan to his feet.
Obi-Wan looked offended.
"Of course I can walk, Master," he said as he took a few unsteady steps forward, but was promptly proven wrong as his legs started to buckle. Before he could hit the ground, Qui-Gon caught him, wrapping a supportive arm under his shoulders to keep him on his feet.
"I'll take him, you take point and take care of any one who might object to our leaving," Qui-Gon said leaning down to hook his other arm under Obi-Wan's legs and lift him into his arms. Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest, but a look from Qui-Gon made him shut it again.
The trip out of the complex was short, and there were few guards to block their way. The ones they did meet, Quinlan dispatched of quickly. Obi-Wan dozed as they moved, content to be somewhere safe, to be back with his Master. He fell asleep with his head against Qui-Gon's chest, lulled by the sound of his heart beating a calm steady rhythm.
Obi-Wan woke to the sound of a slow constant beeping and the smell of antiseptic. His head wasn't as foggy as he remembered it being before, but he was still having trouble thinking. He lifted his hand to his face and realized he wasn't strapped down. He could move! He could escape Jenna Zan Arbor! The beeping was getting faster and faster and he thought he heard someone call his name, but he had no time for that, he had to escape and get his report back to the Council now. He opened his eyes and abruptly stood up, but his legs weren't ready to support him and he immediately started to fall, until a warm embrace caught him.
"Peace, Obi-Wan. You are safe. You are in a hospital on Ryloth, not in Zan Arbor's lab," a familiar voice murmured.
Obi-Wan relaxed immediately into the embrace.
"Master." He grasped the front of the other man's tunic with all the strength his feeble hands could muster. He was with Qui-Gon, he was safe. His Master helped him over to the bed he had just sprung up from and settled him down onto it.
"What happened?" he asked, settling himself into a sitting position as Qui-Gon adjusted the pillows behind him to help him remain upright.
"You, the ever prompt Padawan, didn't check in on time, so Qui-Gon here pestered the Council until they sent us out on a rescue mission," another familiar voice said. Obi-Wan turned to see Quinlan on the other side of the room. It was coming back to him slowly in bits and pieces.
"There was blaster fire," Obi-Wan stated, scrunching his face up as he tried to get more details. "And then you and Master Qui-gon burst into the room that Zan Arbor was keeping me in." He tried to recall more, but that was all that was coming to him for the moment.
"You don't remember anything else?" Quinlan asked, trying to restrain the glee in his voice.
"No, It all gets blurry after that," Obi-Wan responded cautiously.
Quinlan was practically oozing out amusement. "So you don't remember hitting on me?"
Obi-Wan made a strangled noise "I most certainly did no such thing!"
He looked towards his Master for confirmation, but Qui-Gon was stony-faced.
"I can neither conform nor deny his claims as I was off chasing Zan Arbor." When he spoke again, his eyes were sparkling with humor. "But you were quite out of it when we found you."
"What he means to say is you were drugged to the gills," Quinlan crowed. "Garen and Reeft are going to get such a huge kick out of the Perfect Padawan coming on to a knight."
Obi-Wan put on his best diplomatic face, but he could feel the blush spreading across his cheeks.
"Knight Vos, there will be quite enough time to rib my padawan on the ride home. For now we should discuss his health and the mission," Qui-Gon said, sobering the mood in the room. "Zan Arbor managed to elude us yet again," Qui-Gon related, and sounded just about as unhappy about that as Obi-Wan felt.
"But we chased her off before she could wipe all of the data off of her computers, so we have that to bring home for the slicers to decode," Quinlan reminded them.
"And the people who disappeared?" Obi-Wan asked.
Quinlan and Qui-Gon shared a solemn look. "Most of them were dead when we arrived, but we did manage to get a few to medical services."
Obi-Wan's heart lurched in his chest at what he heard. If only he had been able to confirm his information without going in head first, and had avoided capture, everything could have been sent in his last databurst and those people could have been saved.
A hand on his shoulder made him look up. "Obi-Wan, those people were going to die whether you got them out or not. Zan Arbor is not kind in her treatment of her test subjects," Qui-Gon said, voice soft and consoling.
"Yeah, speaking of, what did she do to you, Obi-Wan? The doctor has already had a look at you, and besides the drugs they're filtering out of your system, you're pretty much fine. You haven't even lost much weight or any muscle mass. They must have been stimulating your muscles," Quinlan mused, taking a seat in the chair furthest from the bed.
"I don't remember much," Obi-wan started hesitantly. "She had me drugged most of the time. She took various samples from me." He paused a moment. "Oh, and she gave me a bacta treatment for the blaster wounds I suffered while trying to break in."
"They healed well," Qui-Gon observed, "The doctor found no traces of the wounds."
"Now that we have confirmed what happened, can I get this blasted inhibitor off?" Obi-Wan asked, while bringing his hands up to fiddle with the mechanism.
The Master and Knight eyed each other for a moment, Qui-Gon sighing as he nodded.
"Yes, but be prepared, you have been in the inhibitor for at least thirteen days. We don't know how you'll react when it comes off." Qui-gon gestured for Quinlan to open the lock.
Knight Vos reached his hand out towards the collar and concentrated. There was a click as the collar opened, and for a second there was nothing. Then everything came rushing back. There was so much information, Obi-Wan could feel it all; all of the people in the hospital, healthy and dying alike. He felt their emotions, and got wisps of thought. It was too much, like standing in a screaming crowd with no way to tell whose voice was whose. He curled into a ball and put his hands over his ears, trying to block out the sound, but it was no good. He thought he heard someone shouting, but all he could do was ride out the sensations, desperately trying to focus, and failing.
'Obi-Wan,' a voice touched his mind, and he frantically reached out for it. He held onto the presence and saw a way out of this hell. He followed the connection downward and downward, until all he could hear was that voice, and everything else was blocked out. He wrapped himself around the prescenece as tightly as he could.
'Obi-Wan,' the voice softly caressed him, 'You must return to your own mind.'
'It's too much, I can't!' he cried.
"You can't stay here, Little One. People are waiting for you. You must return. I will help you," the voice intoned.
Obi-Wan paused. It was warm and quiet here; here he felt safe, but if the voice said he would help him, he believed it.
"Come." The voice wrapped itself around him and it was wonderful. He followed as the voice pulled him upwards and upwards, until he could feel all the people again. He froze, waiting for it to hurt, but it didn't.. Suddenly he was in his own mind again, and the voice was Qui-Gon. His mind was wrapped around Obi-Wan's, in place of the Padawan's own shields, which had been degraded and eroded to nothing by weeks in the inhibitor collar. It felt just like being curled up with Qui-Gon's arms around him. Obi-Wan took a gasping breath and realized that he was freezing and shaking.
"Obi-Wan, can you hear me?" Qui-Gon asked.
It took Obi-Wan a couple of tries to get his voice working again. "Y-yes." He was shaking so hard he couldn't get the word out without stammering.
"Quinlan get a blanket for him," Qui-Gon commanded. Obi-Wan tried to turn and face Vos, but Qui-Gon caught his chin and turned his head back towards him. "Focus on me, Padawan. Try to match my breathing."
Obi-Wan focused on Qui-Gon's breathing pattern and tried to slow his breathing to match, but it was hard. He was breathing so fast that he felt light headed, on the verge of hyperventilating. Just as he was managing to slow his breathing, he felt something warm fall around his shoulders. A blanket. He grabbed the corners of it and pulled it tighter around himself, finally able to match the rise and fall of Qui-Gon's chest.
"Good," Qui-Gon praised, "Now you need to sleep."
Obi-Wan tried to protest, but all that came out of his mouth was a strangled grunt. He was already out by the time Qui-Gon lowered him back down to the bed.
"He's going to be fine, Qui-Gon," Quinlan said for what felt like the tenth time.
"We should have waited to take off the suppression collar until we were back at the Temple with access to healers," Qui-Gon argued.
"Yeah, we probably should have, but the point is kind of moot now, and he's looking a lot better than he did a half hour ago. I think it was just psychic shock from being reintroduced to the Force after so long away from it."
"Nevertheless, I should have taken the possibility of psychic shock into account when we decided to take off the collar," Qui-Gon said tersely.
"Seriously Qui-Gon, he is doing way better, reach out and see for yourself," Quinlan said.
Qui-Gon reached with the Force to examine his Padawan and was shocked to discover he was improving. Obi-Wan was on his way to a full recovery. Cases of psychic shock could take days to recover from. This shouldn't be possible. Qui-Gon opened his mouth to discuss this new development with Quinlan, but when he opened his eyes, Quinlan had left the room.
Qui-Gon turned inward, trying to find a reason for this swift recovery and noticed that something was different. It took a moment to pinpoint the change, but when he did his eyes widened. It was his bond with Obi-Wan. It was significantly stronger than a training bond now. He surreptitiously prodded the bond, and Obi-Wan's unconscious mind opened to him. He quickly put a light barrier between them, in order to protect Obi-Wan's privacy. He examined the bond again and he realized that he had been unknowingly sending energy to Obi-Wan, which was speeding the young man's recovery process immensely.
Qui-Gon opened his eyes and relinquished his grasp on the Force. This was something he had not heard of happening before. He would have to do some research, and possibly bring it to the Council's attention.
Qui-Gon rose from his seat by the door and sat on the edge of Obi-Wan's bed. He ran his hand through Obi-Wan's hair, which had grown out in their time apart. It suited him, and it would be a shame when he had to cut it again. The Master's hand fell to where Obi-Wan's Padawan braid lay on his shoulder. It was in a terrible state of disarray. Qui-Gon stared at it for a moment before coming to a decision. He unbound the strap of leather that held the braid together and took off the bead adornments, before quickly re plaiting it into a proper looking braid.
He remembered when he had plaited that braid for the first time, six years ago. It was so much longer now, and Obi-Wan had grown older as well. The Jedi life was not easy, but Qui-Gon was saddened by all that Obi-Wan had been forced to endure in his time as Qui-Gon's apprentice. He was most certainly not a youngling anymore. The sight of Obi-Wan's braid neatly plaited with all its adornments properly in place brought Qui-Gon a sense of peace, as he waited for Quinlan to return.
Obi-Wan woke to the sickening feeling of being in hyperspace. It had always been his least favorite way of travel. The Force was different in hyperspace; it seemed to turn in on itself. It was a sensation that often left him feeling cold and empty, beyond what was normal for space travel. Obi-Wan burrowed further into the blankets on the bunk, burying his face in the pillow as he tried to warm himself. He remained tucked into his cocoon at the sound of the door sliding open, uncurling and turning only at the touch of a hand on his shoulder.
Qui-Gon stood there, face understanding as he looked down at his Padawan. He turned slightly to sit on the edge of the bunk and reached out with one hand to help Obi-Wan sit up before offering him a bowl of tea with his other.
"I thought you might want this."
Obi-Wan nodded and accepted the steaming bowl without words, humming with pleasure at the first sip. He closed his eyes in tea induced bliss, not caring if it looked silly to in front of his Master. They sat in a companionable silence for several minutes, Obi-Wan sipping at the tea, relishing the warmth it slowly returned to his limbs. Qui-Gon had often teased him in the past about him being constantly cold during hyperspace travel, but never at times like this. Never when it was important.
The Master gently pried the bowl from his grasp when it was empty. "Better?"
Obi-Wan nodded. "I'm still tired though."
"The sedatives are still wearing off. Their levels in your system were quite high without the ability to access the Force to purge them," Qui-Gon explained. "Are you feeling hungry?"
"No, I'm alright," Obi-Wan replied, leaning back against his pillows only to feel his cheeks flush as his stomach chose that moment to let out a grumble.
Qui-Gon chuckled. "Do you even remember when you ate last?"
He thought about it, but the sedatives clouded his memories. "I think there was a nasal tube...once? Sometime."
Qui-Gon frowned, eyebrow rising as concern once again showed on his face. "Even if that were recent, I should think that it hardly constitutes as food."
Obi-Wan winced as his stomach gurgled again, but took it in stride. "It appears, Master, that I have been deprived of proper meals for an unspecified amount of time. I would be appreciative of dinner."
His Master's face relaxed at the small amount of humor, and he patted the younger man on the knee through the blankets, adopting Obi-Wan's formal speech. "Very well, Padawan. Wait here and I will return with a supper that meets your exacting standards." He remained seated for a few more seconds though, hand lingering as he searched the Padawan's eyes. There was exhaustion there, along with the hunger, but nothing outwardly alarming. His shields were low, and as he stood Qui-Gon took a brief moment to push some extra energy along the training bond, willing Obi-Wan to hold onto conscious long enough to eat properly. The Padawan smiled in gratitude and settled into the stillness of a meditative trance as Qui-Gon strode from the room.
Obi-Wan was bored, irritated, and ready to beat someone senseless.
It was fine when Qui-Gon banned him from doing any saber drills or even simple katas. A small, but understandable annoyance. Quinlan's insistence that someone be in the bathroom with him while he showered was a bit more ridiculous ("There's a bench in there, Vos! If I get dizzy I'll sit, I really don't want to hurt myself!"). Obi-Wan drew the line when Qui-Gon attempted to help him dress and undress, his outrage lending him the strength to boot both Jedi from his cabin, with strict instructions to return only with tea and food.
Obi-Wan regretted banishing his companions after his month spent with impersonal and silent lab technicians, but not enough to forgive them for their coddling. He sighed, resigning himself to meditation for the remainder of the trip.
At least they were only two days from Coruscant.
It took an hour for them to get clearance to enter Coruscant's atmosphere and from there another forty minutes to navigate through the traffic and back to the Temple Obi-wan was the first one off the shuttle when it landed. He could not wait to get out of the claustrophobic shuttle. It was a relief to be back at the Temple. To be home. He greedily drank in the sights around him; even the shuttle bay was a sight for sore eyes.
Quinlan followed him off the shuttle and meandered towards Obi-Wan. The young Knight slid into place beside the younger man and cuffed the side of his head. "It's good to be back, isn't it?"
Obi-Wan nodded and started making his way towards his and Qui-Gon's rooms, eager to finally lay down in his own bed. Qui-Gon fell into step beside Obi-Wan."Where do you think you are going?' he asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.
"To our quarters, Master. I would like to check my messages, and see what work I need to finish for classes," Obi-Wan replied.
"I think a stop by the Healer's Ward is warranted first." Qui-Gon started to shepherd Obi-Wan in the opposite direction, but Obi-Wan planted his feet firmly on the ground and would not budge.
"I was already checked out on Ryloth, and I had plenty of time to recover on the journey back to Coruscant," Obi-Wan stated calmly, but his eyes were sparkling with defiance.
"It never hurts to be certain, Padawan," Qui-Gon replied.
The frustration that had just been a trickling stream overflowed and the dam burst. "I am nineteen years old, and a senior Padawan. I am very much capable of taking care of myself," Obi-Wan said, words short and clipped.
Qui-Gon looked shocked for a second, but he quickly schooled his face back to a neutral expression. "If you feel that you are restored to full health, then I will respect your decision." He said smoothly.
Obi-Wan's anger deflated and suddenly, he just felt tired. "Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan bowed respectfully to his Master. If you will excuse me, I need to see what I must do to get caught up in my classes." Obi-Wan left in a hurry, not waiting for Qui-Gon to change his mind.