Title: Waiting
Author: Erika
Series: Rebuilding the Bond (#7) but it stands on its only 'cause of one small, tiny, itty bitty, reference that I make and it stands on its own so please read anyway!
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A Master's worst nightmare nearly comes true.
Time Frame: Obi-Wan is 17
Spoilers: For JA
Category: POV, ANGST, ANGST, ANGST, non-slash
Disclaimers: The Star Wars universe and all of its characters belong to George Lucas, I'm only borrowing them to have a little fun and I promise to return them unharmed (well, at least mostly unharmed). I'm making no money off of this and this is written for entertainment purposes only. Any characters that are not recognizable as being part of the SW universe belong to me, but you guys probably figured that out, right?
Feedback: Don't make me beg *Erika gets down on hands and knees* please! (firedrake88@yahoo.com)
Archive: Jedi Apprentice, Early Years, Wolfie's Den, JAFD, The Guardians of Peace, The Temple Library, Telly, and anyone who has any of my other stories. Anyone else who wants this, please ask and send me a link to your site so that I can check it out =D
Waiting
Qui-Gon:
Beep. Beep. Beep.
It's been almost seven hours since I first received the call and it still seems surreal to me, like some horrible nightmare that I simply cannot wake up from. Even as I sit here, staring at your achingly vulnerable body, some part of my mind doesn't want to believe that it's true – that I might really lose you.
It was about eight when my comlink beeped loudly – warning me with the shrillness of its cry that something was wrong, that something terrible had happened. I don't know exactly what the doctor told me, for as soon as the first sentence fled his lips reality took a drastic turn for me. It felt more like I was floating outside my body, listening to his bleak diagnosis of your condition, than like I was actually experiencing it. It felt like an illusion when he told me that you were in a terrible accident, that you're in a coma, that you're too weak to be moved, that you might not survive the night.
I'm not exactly sure how I got here to the hospital – it's all a haze of blurred images, but it feels like I've been here for an eternity, holding your hand, pleading with the Force to not take you from me.
My thoughts are a tumble of tormenting emotions. I'm caught between begging for your recovery and thinking about all the things we'll never do if I lose you. Just last week I promised you that we'd go back to the Macarvic Gardens and renew our vows to each other but every time you asked, hope shining brightly in your gaze, I told you that I was too busy. You tried to hide your disappointment but I could see it clearly in your clouded blue-green eyes. Now that disappointment haunts me like a ghost of guilt. I would give anything to change that. How could I have possibly thought that my work was more important than you, even for a second?
There's so much I hoped to see you do. Now I might never get the chance. Next week the lightsaber tournament begins. You've trained so hard for it, and I've been so proud watching your dedication. Don't let that all go to waste. You have to wake up. Oh Force, please, you have to recover from this. I can't lose you like this. I can accept losing you on a mission, but not like this, never like this.
After all the missions we've been on recently I've been meaning to take you to Rozzi, a planet only lightyears away. It's such a beautiful place and I haven't been there in so many years. I know you'd enjoy and appreciate its wondrous magnificence. Please wake up and I promise that as soon as you're well enough, I'll take you there. It isn't worth seeing again without you at my side where you belong.
Even though you're still young, I've been looking forward to your knighting. You're so far ahead of all your agemates that I'm sure you'll be ready for your Trials years before any of them. You can't die now. You have to become a Jedi Knight; it's always been your dream. Don't you want to see me with tears in my eyes as I cut your braid? Don't you want to have a Padawan of your own someday? You'd make such a wonderful teacher, I know you would. You can't give up on me now. There's still so much for you to do.
I squeeze your limp hand tightly in my own. You look so peaceful right now. You look like you're asleep, dreaming of a place of serenity and tranquility. You don't look like you're in a coma. You can't be dying. You have to fight this. You're strong; I know you can beat this. You have to beat this. You have to.
A single tear falls from my eyes to roll gently down my cheek. I've never felt more alone in my entire life. Will I feel like this forever if I lose you? That's a thought too terrible to even contemplate. I have to stop thinking like this, but I can't. All I can think about is what will happen if I lose you, all the things you'll never get to accomplish if you die now.
"Obi-Wan," I say raggedly, my voice rasping in my parched and dry throat, "Padawan, please, fight this. It's not your time to die yet, you have to beat this, you have to come back to me. Please," my voice fades into silence but my thoughts are impossible to still.
I know I should try and sleep but I can't. How can I sleep when your life hangs in the balance? How can I sleep when you might die as I desperately cling to your hand?
~~~~~~~~~~
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The doctor has just told me that your friends, Serai and Mero, have passed away. They were terribly wounded in the accident, more so than you, but he says that you might not be far behind them. He's warned me to start preparing for your death, but I can't. How can I prepare for something like that?
It feels like I've been waiting here for lifetimes, but it's only been ten hours. Ten hours that have passed more slowly than any other ten hours in my life. Ten hours of your friends stopping by to see you. Did you see the sadness in their faces? Did you see the tears in Bant's eyes? You can't leave us now. You have so much left to do in life. You have to keep fighting this.
"Please keep fighting," I beg you softly, hoping that maybe you can hear me and that hearing me will give you the strength to come out of this.
You look so young now, like a small child that I want to protect from all harm, but can't. I watch you, for several long moments, hoping for some change in your all-too peaceful appearance, but there's nothing. Just the beeping of the EKG monitor that sounds in time with your heart. It's such a lonely sound, but it's all that's kept me from falling apart.
Please, Obi-Wan, don't give up. Don't give up.
~~~~~~~~~~
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I can't help from crying now. I think I'm happier than I've ever been in my entire life, and yet the flood of tears just won't stop. I feel like laughing, like calling out my joy to the entire universe, but all I can do is cry tears of relief and incredible happiness. I feel like a balloon of delight – a deflated balloon that has suddenly been filled with energy and light.
You're going to live. The doctor says that your condition has improved drastically in the last hour and that you should be regaining consciousness by sunrise. He can't explain it – he tells me that you were too far gone to have survived, but I understand. I understand that the one reason you're still here with me is because you never give up, and for that I am more grateful that you can possibly imagine.
I know I should feel guilty that you will live when your two friends have already lost their lives, but I can't. Despite the grief of the parents who watched their children die today, I can't help but feel elated that you will open your beautiful eyes again, that you will live.
You will be devastated when you learn the fate of your companions, you will feel guilty that you survived and they didn't. I know we will have to deal with those emotions but right now I'm just happy that we'll have the chance to overcome that. Right now I'm just happy that I'll be able to hold you when you cry for them. Right now, I'm just happy that you're alive.
THE END