Chapter Two- sorry for the wait, I've been cooking up a humorous one-shot about Obi-wan and Anakin. Also, expect a lot of Tuesday updates. Tuesday is the new Saturday, for me at least.

Asajj heaved a sigh. There were two options at this point- Kenobi was delusional, or… Kenobi was delusional. Too much time locked away, too many near-death ventures. "Look, Kenobi, do you even remember who you are?"

"I'm Kenobi, obviously."

She bit back an obnoxious reply. "Yes, you're Kenobi. But do you remember anything about yourself?" At least his dry sense of humor remained.

"I did something wrong, horribly wrong. But I don't remember it." He paused. Words were still such an effort for him, although his eyes seemed more alive than they had when she'd found him. "I am a human." There was another lengthy pause, but this one wasn't to catch his breath; he was thinking. "I'm told I am pathetic. I don't know if it's true. But tell me, am I dead?"

"Persistent." Ventress muttered under her breath. "Why do you keep asking if you're… dead?" Surely he had to know he wasn't. Then again, he didn't know who she was, or even who he was.

"They never let me die." He whispered.

"What do you mean, they? Who had you, and what did they want?"

"I don't know. Always this man, and occasionally another."

"What did they want from you? How did they keep you alive?" Asajj's voice grew sharp involuntarily, and she tried to stop herself. He was traumatized enough without her making it worse.

"They would inject me, and I would keep living. Keep feeling." The poor Jedi stopped, breathing in ragged breaths. "They didn't want anything. He was… punishing me."

"But for what? When did they capture you, how?" Ventress pressed.

Kenobi shook his head weakly, lying it back down on the pillow. The woman standing over him sighed again. Trying to get anything more out of him would be useless. She lay one hand on his forehead gently, but retracted it quickly, nose wrinkled in disgust. His hair was matted with blood and filth- mostly blood. His face was little better.

Answers… where could she get answers? The whole situation was driving her crazy- the way he appeared out of nowhere as hurt as this, the way he remembered nothing, and, right now, the question of how to get him cleaned up, and get him some decent clothing. Most of her clothing was more shaped to a woman's figure, although he was skinny enough to fit in almost anything. Finally she settled on a looser fitting shirt and trousers, and decided to wash him off as best she could. He'd drifted back into a level of semi-unconsciousness, so she took the opportunity to treat his wounds again, including a fairly nasty cut on his forehead and cheek. Perhaps the blow that had caused this cut had also taken his memory…

Either way, the best place to go for a few inside answers on a Jedi was Corausant. As dangerous as the place was to a fugitive, it was where she was headed. There were places where all sorts of criminal activity went on, right under the noses of thousands of police droids and Jedi.

Or… Or she could hand him over to the Temple. Leave him somewhere and send them a message. But leaving him alone seemed risky- what if they didn't show up? Or, worse still, if they somehow connected this all to her and blamed her for the attacks on him. Force knew Skywalker would personally track her down and slit her throat for it. No, she'd hang on to him, for now. And besides, she was curious… and feeling pity, which wasn't something she usually did.

Coordinates set, Asajj sat down in the pilot's seat, hoping to perhaps catch a bit of sleep on the flight. This hope was short lived, because her... patient abruptly shouted 'no!', causing her to stand up in alarm.

"What? What's happened?" She asked, moving towards him, then stopped. He seemed perfectly calm, looking up at her with sleepy eyes. "What the hoth are you thinking?" She demanded, needing an explanation for his outburst. She quieted when he cringed away from her. Touchy. She tried again.

"Why did you call me?"

"M'sorry." He mumbled. "I was talking in my sleep."

"Great. Just great." She said to herself, turning away from where he lay on her bed, none the less, "Not only is he delusional and clueless, he also talks in his sleep. Glad to know I'll be getting none myself."

"I'll stay awake." He offered quietly.

"No, it's…" She trailed off, regretting losing her temper. "It's not your fault. Go to sleep." She glanced back at him in time to see him nod solemnly and then lay his head on the pillow and close his eyes.

He was going to have a nice scar on his face. Healing technology was pretty good on Corausant, but faces were always tricky and never worked out how they should. That somehow made another jolt of anger seer through her chest. She should have stayed and found out who it was that had done this to the Jedi. They'd ruined his handsome face.

Dear Force, what was wrong with her, even thinking that?

Several hours later, Asajj hadn't managed to get much sleep, and apparently, neither had the Jedi, as he kept mumbling and crying out in his sleep. She'd almost learned to stop listening to what he said- it was chilling at times, although it was mainly mumbles of "no" and "why". Once he'd said "What did I do? What?" in a delirious voice before drifting back off.

So when he asked softly if she was awake, she ignored him.

He asked again. "You awake?"

"You're talking to me?"

"Who else would I talk to?" he asked, with a look of complete innocence- and the tiniest hint of amusement behind it.

"Nevermind. I'm awake, as you can see."

"I hate to be a bother, but could I eat something?" There was more strength in his voice than there had been when she found him, but he still looked rather pathetic, although she guessed he was getting a bit of his dignity back and wouldn't want to be told that.

"Sure. Help yourself." It was a test- to see if he'd try to do something for himself, and to see if he could stand.

There was quiet as he pulled himself up, standing for the first time. He was shaky, but kept on his feet… until he suddenly clasped his hand over his side and doubled over, sitting back on the bed. As she'd half suspected, he had at least one broken rib. "This isn't working." He muttered, gingerly prodding his ribs.

"What am I going to do with you, Kenobi?" She asked, more to herself than to him. There was nowhere she could take him to get him healed up, which meant she'd have to try herself, although she had what was needed to heal wounds, not set bones. Unless…

A memory drifted back to her, of Ky Narec, practically holding the bones of his elbow in place with his other hand. He'd taught her how to mend bones so she could patch him up, and though she hadn't done the best job, it had held him together until he was strong enough to heal himself.

However, that had been before she'd turned dark. Healing, especially something as complex as setting bones, required a strong power in the light side of the Force. Currently, she was using the gray area- neither light nor dark, good nor evil, and not as powerful as either.

"Alright Kenobi, want to try something?"

"Something being defined as…?"

"I'm going to try to heal your rib. It'll hurt, and it'll be tiring. Can you handle that?"

He avoided the question. "How are you going to… heal it?"

"I'll manipulate the midi-chlorians in your body to-"

"Midi-what?"

Oh yes, that was right. He had no idea what the Force was. "Little living particles in your blood. The level you have decides if you're Force-sensitive or not, although I suppose you don't know what that is."

"No. I know what the Force is. I think… I think I've almost felt it, sometimes."

"You're ridiculously Force-sensitive. You just seem to have forgotten how to use that." She paused. "I'm going to try setting your rib by controlling your midi-chlorians. It'll hurt. Like Hoth."

A shiver ran through his body, but he responded calmly: "Ok."

Asajj started out with the gray area of the Force, drawing a bit of strength and trying to connect herself to his midi-chlorians. And then she tried to pull on the light side. It rejected her, refusing to give the strength she needed. "Come on," she hissed. "Think of Kenobi." At her words, she could feel the Force relenting, allowing her to draw some small amount of power. She followed the same advice, concentrating entirely on how she needed him healed.

Kenobi groaned slightly, his hand trying to push hers away from his side, but she swatted it away. It was barely working, and she needed to concentrate. Perhaps she was looking at this the wrong way. Perhaps she should be looking at it not in terms of a simple matter of convenience, but the way she had looked at it when she'd healed Ky all those years ago- as a matter of caring for the person lying wounded before her.

That time it had been involuntary, the caring. He was her Master, so of course she cared about seeing him healed. Now she was trying to shy away from any feelings of that sort, especially while healing- wasn't that the opposite of the light side? Weren't the Jedi taught to avoid caring for other people, to look at them all as equal, the way one might look at a handful of numbers?

The Jedi mumbled something, but didn't try to push her off this time. The small jolt of affection she felt gave her more strength, and to her surprise, the more she focused on that emotion, on caring, the more she could feel power flowing through her and into his wound.

Within a minute from that point, it was done. The bone was knit into place- clumsily, but well enough for it to hold up and eventually heal itself closed. Releasing the energy from the Force, Asajj felt weak and light headed, and collapsed on the bed beside him. She'd done it. She'd done something very difficult that she hadn't in so long, and the familiar drained feeling was wonderful because of it.

"Thank you." There was another new emotion on his face now, one of awe, although she wasn't sure if it was because of the wonder at having his ribs healed or at having a person heal rather than hurt him.

"I'm going to sleep." Was her only reply. "Tell me if anything happens." She made a vague gesturing motion towards the cockpit and then lay down, hoping a brief nap would restore her energy.

"You are…" He began, but then trailed off, and she could swear she saw a hint of a blush on his pale, narrow face. There was the Kenobi she knew. The one who had barely been able to thank her for saving his life a few weeks ago, who had blushed like mad when she'd kissed him.

"I'm what?" Pressing him was always fun, but this time, he relented and told her what he had begun without much of a struggle.

"You are very kind." Admittedly, no one had ever called her kind before, and she rather hoped no one would ever again. But right now, she liked to hear it from him.

Ventress didn't respond, letting herself drift off towards sleep. The Jedi laid his hand gently on top of hers, saying softly, "And I think I like kindness."

You know that feeling when you're doing calculus and you can literally feel the energy being sucked from your brain, but then you get a 100 on a quiz and the tired is somehow satisfying? No? Just me? I imagine that's what Force-healing feels like.

The next chapter or so is going to be mostly this stuff- Kenobi all wounded and pathetic, and the two of them being all disgustingly adorable. Fluff/post-whumpage ahoy. Also, I'd like you guys to be brutally honest with me- do you feel like the overall tone of this is too slow? It's a bit slower than what I normally write for these two, but with Obi sort of off his game, banter isn't working as it should. Let me know- if the overwhelming response is that it's dragging horribly, I'll try to speed up the plot.