Author's note: Anakin-snugglies by special request, plus no one listens to Ryn and Vokara Che gets twitchy.

Disclaimer: Star Wars and associated worlds/characters are the property of George Lucas. Ryn, Kit, and this piece of fanfiction are entirely my own invention.

Chapter Playlist:

One of Those Days (Joshua Radin)

No Sugar Tonight/New Mother Nature (The Guess Who)

In Memory of Elizabeth Reed (The Allman Brothers Band)

CHAPTER THREE

Outside the infirmary in the spacious hallways of the Temple, Obi-Wan brought them to a halt and asked Ferus whether he were aware of any contact with Ryn's family on Loreth.

Ferus said he hadn't heard of anything like that.

Anakin had been ignoring them both, wrapped in his private suffering, but now Obi-Wan turned to him expectantly and said, "Do you know how to reach him, Anakin?"

Kit, I want you to meet someone.

He could almost feel the warmth of Ryn's smile, the glow of her affection.

You're important to me.

Anakin cleared his throat. "I think I remember," he said.

"Then you are the logical choice," Obi-Wan decided. "Go at once to the comm and send a message off-world, to Kittral's home, or ship, or wherever you can find him. Ferus and I will attempt to find Master Yoda and consult with him." Obi-Wan's expression turned thoughtful. "Actually, Ferus, it may be better if you stay at the infirmary, if you think you can keep out o the Healers' way ... just in case Ryn comes around."

"Of course," Ferus murmured, always the model Padawan.

Anakin couldn't stop himself from saying, "It should be me. Ryn knows me. She --"

"And then who would call Kit?" Obi-Wan asked mildly. "No. Go to the comm center, and when you are done, you may report back to the infirmary and relieve Ferus -- with Master Che's permission." His expression hardened. "You did very badly in there, Padawan."

Meaning, of course, that he had lost control of his emotions. Again.

Anakin bowed. "Yes, Master."

He had expected, as someone not recognizably important, to have to wait some time before he was allowed to speak with Kit. But he reached Kit's assistant -- a fit young woman with a lot of light-colored hair and generous cleavage -- almost as soon as he'd been patched through to the Lorethan communications network, and when he gave his name, she said, "Padawan Skywalker? Just a minute ..." and the image blurred, faded and then was quickly replaced by a slightly fuzzy image of Ryn's brother.

"Padawan Skywalker," he said, Anakin thought he was squinting slightly. "I apologize for the image quality. I am ... not at home. What can I do for you?"

Anakin shook his head. "Sir -- uh, Your Grace -- are you aware that Ryn has recently been injured?"

Kit's face was unreadable, but his tone was bleak. "I knew she was in trouble," he said. "I could feel it. When did it happen?"

You could feel it? Anakin thought. "Last night," he replied. "Your Grace, I'm afraid her injuries are ... serious."

"I see," Kit said slowly. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"We're, uh ... we're still piecing things together," Anakin hedged, not sure how much Kit was supposed to know about the situation. "But it looks as though Ryn stumbled onto a plot to assassinate a Jedi and engaged two of the potential assassins in combat." It's all my fault. She did it for me.

Kit gave him a searching look, as though he knew there was more Anakin wasn't telling him, like the fact that he was to blame. "I sense that there is more going on here than meets the eye," he said finally. "And I see that it troubles you. But without knowing the situation, there is little I can do to help you." He paused. "Will it make you ... uncomfortable ... or put you in a bad position with your master, if I ask a favor of you?"

"I don't know," Anakin said. "I hope not."

"Well ... it is this," Kit said, frowning. "I ... cannot come right away. Many lives depend on my mission here. I cannot leave, even if Ryn needs me. I would ask you ... act as her next of kin, in my place. Stay with her during recovery, or ... well, if she doesn't make it ... I know Ryn considers you a good friend. I know you'll take care of ... what needs to be done." Kit cleared his throat. "But will this interfere with your Jedi duties?"

Probably. "I'm sure Master Kenobi will let me have a little time, at least until you can come yourself." But he won't like it much. And it's a terrible way to prove I'm not attached.

Kit sighed as though he'd just had a heavy burden lifted from his shoulders. "Thank you, Padawan Skywalker. I will join you on Coruscant as soon as I can."

Ryn opened her eyes slowly. The light speared through them and set off alarms in her brain, and she flinched, squeezing her eyes shut and wrenching her face away from the glare.

A voice called her name.

"Ryn?"

The voice was warm and slightly rough, a hot toddy of a voice. It slide like raw silk along her shattered nerves and stroked something deep inside her to a warm glow.

"Ryn?"

she knew that voice, had heard it in her dreams. She knew the slow warmth it sent spreading through her limbs and the hollow ache of longing it echoed through in her chest.

Say my name again.

"Ryn, can you hear me?"

Anakin.

And with recognition came memory and sensation, and Ryn inhaled sharply as pains battered through her everywhere, and she reached out blindly and found her aching fingers gripped in a steady clasp, firm but surprisingly gentle. The hands were like the voice: warm and rough, and as Ryn squeezed weakly back, she tried to say his name but couldn't.

Abruptly there was cool air on the back of her hand where his palm had rested, and then something cold and hard was against her lips.

"Drink this," Anakin's voice said, and Ryn tried, but she felt more spilling across her cheek than down her throat.

She felt herself being lifted, and then Anakin's voice again, so close the vibrations from his mouth actually tickled against her eardrum. "Here."

She sipped again, wetting her throat this time, and she tried to open her eyes and tell him "thank you" but the light was still too bright, and she flinched again and buried her face in Anakin's shoulder.

"Too bright?" Anakin murmured against her hair. She felt a stir, and the glare against her eyelids faded away.

"Better?" he asked her, and Ryn knew he must have used the Force to dim the lights.

She blinked cautiously and nodded, trying to bring Anakin's face into focus.

He brushed her hair back, rubbing one calloused thumb in the hollow of her cheek. "That was quite the nap you took."

Ryn tried to smile. The muscles in her face felt stiff. "How ... long?" she croaked.

Anakin held a cup against her lips -- the same one as before; she recognized the feel -- and watched her drink before he answered.

"Two and a half days."

She grimaced slightly. "The assassins?"

"You killed one. Master Tachi is looking for the other."

He could be anywhere by now.

"The one I killed didn't have much of a chance to pass on his information." Ryn said; but it came out as cracked whisper, and she reached for the cup again.

Anakin held it for her.

"I don't want you worrying about that," he informed her sternly. "You've done enough already -- and worried me half to death. What were you thinking, attacking two of them at once?"

"There weren't two when I attacked," Ryn pointed out; and then she frowned, or tried to. "Are you lecturing me on reckless behavior, Padawan Skywalker?"

Anakin smiled. "Maybe just a little." He touched his fingertips lightly to the sore

spot in her abdomen. "You must be feeling a lot better, if you're up to teasing me."

"Don't flatter yourself, Skywalker."

"Mmm." Ryn could feel his amusement and relief, warm and thick as honey fresh from the comb, gleaming sticky in the sunlight. "I should go tell Master Che that you're awake. Will you be all right?"

I'd be better if you'd keep touching me. "Of course."

Gently he disentangled himself and rested Ryn's head on the pillow. "I'll be right back," he whispered.

With Anakin gone, Ryn had considerably less incentive to stay awake -- the hospital room was just not that interesting -- but, mindful of his promise to return soon, she tried to keep her eyes propped open. Being pampered and doted on was not something she wanted to miss, especially if it was going to involve more of that lovely cuddling ... although Ryn could think of a couple of ways even that could be improved. Say, by the removal of several layers of highly unnecessary Jedi clothing. What did the Jedi think they were dressing for anyway, a vacation on Hoth? Ryn was fairly certain that her physical condition had not improved enough to allow for any sort of strenuous activities, but it couldn't hurt to dream.

She amused herself with making a list of potential ways to show her appreciation until Anakin returned.

The look on his face when he stuck his head around the door told her she'd been caught, at least partly. He frowned at her in concern. "Ryn? Are you all right? You feel ... strange."

You mean like a woman who's been fantasizing about ways to get you naked? "I'm fine."

He came closer, still frowning. "Are you sure? You feel ... Oh." Comprehension dawned. "Oh."

Anakin looked suddenly nervous, poised on the verge of fleeing.

Ryn offered him a rueful smile. "Come on in, Anakin. I believe I can control myself."

Anakin's self-conscious frown morphed suddenly into his familiar cocky grin. "Are you sure?"

Ryn rolled her eyes; it almost didn't hurt. "Getting easier all the time," she assured him. "Besides, if you can't defend yourself against a woman with three broken ribs, a punctured lung, and a fractured pelvis ... maybe you should give up on the whole Jedi thing. It might not be for you."

She saw the blush burn up into his cheeks and raised one hand -- rather stiffly -- against a flash of defensive temper. "Kidding, Anakin. You know I don't question your skills."

The flare in Anakin's aura subsided. "Well, maybe if it comes to it I can wrestle you to the ground."

"Don't tempt me," Ryn murmured, just to see him blush again, without the anger this time. "Come sit down."

He sat in the bedside chair, still a little wary, and Ryn tried not to project raging lust. With the pain making her lightheaded with every breath, it wasn't all that difficult.

A particularly bad twinge made Anakin reach out and touch her hand. "Master Che will be here any minute."

Ryn nodded, too tired to speak, and accepted a few more sips of water from the cup Anakin held once more to her lips.

"You're going to be fine," Anakin said softly, almost crooning. "You'll see." He squeezed her hand lightly. "And your brother Kit should be coming soon."

That made Ryn's brows snap together with a quick stab of pain, but before she could ask any of the questions that sprang to mind, Vokara Che swept in, and all inquiries had to be shunted aside.

"Awake, I see," Che offered.

Ryn nodded.

"How are you feeling?"

Like stale poodoo. "Very tired. And my chest hurts, but I believe that is to be excpected. I ... recall your analysis."

Che frowned slightly. "Your broken bones should be almost healed by now. I wonder if your Healing trance has been deep enough." She pressed a hand to Ryn's forehead and closed her eyes, head cocked as if listening.

"Hm," she said, lifting her hand and opening her eyes. "Your Healing trance is there, and I can tell that your bones are mostly knitted, though they will not achieve their former density for another day or two ... but it seems that you still have some distance to go before the injuries are sufficiently healed to no longer be sore. Possibly your control of the Force is not great enough to manage faster recuperation, or perhaps your injuries are simply so extensive that your body cannot channel the energy to heal them faster. I confess, I do not know the answer. I have never worked on a Force-sensitive who was not a Jedi before, and I have seldom seen a patient live with injuries as extensive as yours."

That makes me feel good, Ryn thought sarcastically. Aloud she said, "How long until I am fit to leave the infirmary?"

Che frowned again. "Difficult to say," she admitted. "You live alone, unlike Padawans your age, so I feel you must be recovered sufficiently to care for your own needs safely before--"

"Master Che," Anakin interrupted. "My master and I will be happy to watch over Miss Orun, if it lets her leave the infirmary a few days sooner. Release her into Master Obi-Wan's care."

Ryn laid a hand on Anakin's arm and squeezed lightly, then winced as the motion revealed a few more sore spots. "I am not at all sure that Master Kenobi will share your perspective," she reminded him gently. "If I am likely to need continued medical care, then the infirmary would seem the safest place for me. And you and Master Kenobi need to concentrate on finding out who is behind this assassination plot. Taking care o me will only slow you down."

A shadow crossed Anakin's face. "The Council has chosen not to assign us to the investigation," he said, clearly striving for a neutral tone. "They feel we are ... too close to the problem, that we won't be objective."

"Oh." Ryn blinked, trying to assimilate this new and rather baffling information. "That's ... I'm sorry, Anakin. That must be frustrating. I'm sure you want to be ... more active in the pursuit."

"A Jedi must not be controlled by his emotions," Anakin intoned. It sounded like a recitation -- from Obi-Wan, probably. He forced a smile. "Master Tachi is very competent. I'm sure she will get to the bottom of it soon."

Ryn sensed that he was putting on his best "Jedi face" for Master Che, so she didn't push. "I'm sure that's true. But I still don't think Master Kenobi will want a houseguest. I'll be fine here until I can be released to my own quarters. It won't be long."

"Actually," Vokara Che said, "I would feel much better about releasing you into the care of a Jedi, especially given your relative youth and inexperience. I'd like to keep you overnight for observation, but you could leave as early as tomorrow morning, with Master Kenobi's cooperation."

Fine, ignore everything I say. Ryn frowned and tried again. "I don't wish to be an inconvenience," she tried again. "If I'm not being too much trouble, I don't mind waiting here. Honestly."

Vokara Che twitched her headtails, but Ryn hadn't spent enough time around Twi'leks to interpret the gesture.

"Anakin," the Healer said. "Go get your master. I'd like to consult with him about this matter."

Ryn would have liked to sigh, but her chest hurt too much, so she settled for a grimace of resignation as Anakin headed for the door, already breaking into a jog.

That boy never walks when he can run.