Leaving the organization of the ground troops in Ahsoka and Rex's capable hands, Anakin burst into the makeshift med bay.
"What happened?"
"It's just a flesh wound, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, sitting on the edge of one of the cots, his tunic set off to the side while a medic finished applying a bacta bandage over the his shoulder.
Anakin wanted to shake him for being so calm. Cody, standing beside Obi-Wan, seemed none too impressed either.
"That looks like more than a flesh wound," he frowned.
Obi-Wan shrugged then winced for it.
"Yes well. Looks can be deceiving."
"So can you."
The man smiled, boyishly pleased, "I am quite good at it."
"Do you need help getting to your tent, General Kenobi?" Cody asked.
"No—"
"I'll help him," Anakin butt in.
Obi-Wan huffed and hopped off the cot, a slight wobble that was probably imperceptible to anyone except Anakin.
"That's quite unnecessary."
"You can lean on me, master, or I can haul you over my shoulder."
"You wouldn't," Obi-Wan cut himself off and shook his head. "Yes you would."
"Oh yeah," Anakin agreed.
He crossed his arms over his chest with his brows raised and waited. Either way he was winning, he could afford a little bit of patience.
"Fine," Obi-Wan sighed. "Spare your old master some dignity."
Anakin uncrossed his arms and hooked one around Obi-Wan's waist, accepting his bloodied tunic when Cody handed it to him.
"You're not that old, master," he said with a wry grin.
"So kind of you to say so."
A/N: Sorry not sorry for the Monty Python references.