Obi-Wan had lain as one all but dead for days, and in that time Anakin had barely left his side. He knew his master would do the same for him; had done so already. The nights when he was young and had nightmares, his master would come to his side and sit beside him, often taking the boy into his arms and rocking him, before tucking him back into bed and sit by his side telling funny stories, so that his padawan would fall asleep with a smile on his lips. Obi-Wan was always there, and now Anakin realized, he had thought that he always would be.

As Anakin sat absently staring at Obi-Wan, his comlink buzzed for attention. For a minute Anakin was tempted to ignore it. If the Temple wanted to wait this long, they could wait a while longer.

He sensed Cody's disapproving stare, and sighed. Better to get this over with. He responded. To his surprise, it was one of the Temple's healers. He had thought it might be Master Yoda, or another Council member.

He only knew Master T'koth by sight. He was a skilled surgeon, helped by his four slender arms, each with six long fingers. All too often, his surgical skills had been required by battered and bruised Jedi - casualties of the Clone Wars.

"Padawan Skywalker," the healer said courteously. "As you had not called back, the Council asked that I contact you. We had expected another communication from you before this. I understand Master Kenobi was in surgery and his condition was considered to be life-threatening."

"Is," Anakin corrected. "They are surprised he's still alive. The healer said they've done all they can, but it's up to him now."

"Ah," the healer nodded. "It is that serious."

"By the Force, yes, it is," Anakin couldn't help snapping. "He was dead; I know he was, before he was even brought here. I had to do mouth to mouth resuscitation on him, man, his heart wasn't even beating. He was in hours of surgery, and he's hooked up to a million machines." Nor had he since then so much as twitched a muscle or shown signs of awakening. Anakin found he had to blink and swallow hard to keep his tears away.

The healer didn't look upset with Anakin's outburst, though his lids slowly closed over his eyes as he absorbed the information. "Hmm, yes, it would not be wise to move him until his condition stabilizes. I will report to the Council. I will be requesting a copy of Master Kenobi's medical records to review. We will be transmitting his medical history, also. As you know, his file is rather large."

The healer coughed. Anakin glared. This was no time for humor, good or bad.

"Umm, yes. Expect to be contacted again, Padawan. Thank you."

Anakin rolled his eyes as he looked to Cody. "See what I mean?"

"Master V'keny, we've received the medical report from Skore," Surgeon T'koth waved an arm to get the healer's attention as she passed by. The healer immediately turned and came to peer over the surgeon's shoulder to read the report for herself as the surgeon summarized it.

"Oh, dear Force, that poor boy is terribly injured," she sighed. She shook her head absently, remembering her first sight of Obi-Wan, not quite four, shaking with fever and trying not to show his fear at being in a strange place with needles poking him.

He had tried hard not to cry, but when she had tried to soothe him, he had flung himself into her arms and let her rock him, hiccupping tears into her shoulder. The Dinubian flu had touched many younglings that year, and Obi-Wan was one of several who had had such terrible reactions that the healers had worried for their lives.

"Lucky to be alive," the surgeon added, studying the report. "Even I'm surprised he didn't succumb to his injuries long before this."

The healer turned to look at the surgeon and managed a sad smile. "If anyone could survive those injuries, it would be Obi-Wan. He'd be more likely to be killed by a splinter in his finger than mere injuries - he's too stubborn to die when any other being would long since have. How long do you think before we can move him here?"

Master T'koth merely snorted. "Easily a month or more were it anyone else. Master Kenobi - maybe a few days, more likely at least a week or two. He hasn't regained consciousness yet, according to this report. His padawan was quite worried about him when I spoke to him, with reason I will add."

The healer nodded absently, thinking ahead. She activated her comlink and called Bant Eerin. "Bant, I'm putting you in charge of coordinating care for Obi-Wan and moving him when his condition is stable enough. Keep in touch with Skore Medical and the Council to coordinate the timing."

"Of course, Master," Bant's voice came back over the comlink. This was more than she had dared hope. When the news had first filtered through the Healers Ward, it had been all that she could do to hold back her tears. Only her Jedi and healers training had kept her calm, though she had not dared to speak in case her voice wavered. Obi-Wan was seriously hurt, perhaps dying.

She wondered if Master V'keny had chosen her by chance, or knowing how close she was to Obi-Wan, had chosen her for both their sakes.

Fingers twisted in chestnut hair, Anakin brought his lips down softly onto a warm and welcoming mouth. The kiss deepened, and he shuddered with the feelings it awoke. Arms welcomed him into her embrace - he was lost in kisses - he was...he was jolted awake and upright before he quite understood what was happening. He had been having the most wonderful dream of holding his wife in his arms. He wanted to howl in outrage - couldn't he even find refuge in his dreams - he protested the unfairness of it all, the pain - the pain?

A terrible pain was assaulting him. He lay dazed, unable to move under its suffocating weight, struggling to realize what had happened. Pain, twisting his insides, bouncing around his skull, pulsating through every inch of him. It was coming through his bond with Obi-Wan; he had slept with his barriers lowered, hoping to sense when Obi-Wan began to awake. Or to forever slip away.

Anakin meant to be there, whichever it was.

Obi-Wan was still clinging to life, but the sheer intensity of this pain could kill him in his weakened condition. Anakin raised his shields tightly, barely taking the time to dress, and raced to the med center.

Reflexes, honed by years of practice - pod racing, flying fighters in battle, racing speeders - allowed him to avoid collisions by swooping, swerving and occasionally aiming right at obstacles in his path. Calls from angry citizens flooded the police, demanding a crazy man be stopped. There was nothing the law could do: no one had been able to describe the demented driver or speeder: they had all been too terrified and diving out of the way.

Droids blocked his path to Obi-Wan, so Anakin pounded on the desk, demanding access to Obi-Wan, ready to push past the nurse droid, when another med droid whirred to a step before him and forbade him to disturb the patient.

"He's in terrible pain," Anakin insisted desperately. "If you don't give him something, it'll kill him."

"He is not responsive," the droid said severely. "He is also heavily sedated."

"He is in pain," Anakin insisted grimly. He pointed to his lightsaber and said slowly and deliberately, emphasizing each word. "He's my Master; I'm his Padawan. We have a bond: that means we can feel what the other feels. I can barely stand his pain myself. If you don't give him something for the pain, I'll use this lightsaber to dismantle you!" The droid quickly backslid and beeped.

"Very well, I will let you see him, but you must not disturb him and must leave right away. He needs rest, not visitors. We have no assurances that he will survive. It is a miracle he is even alive. I am sure I will be deactivated or reprogrammed for allowing you access at all."

The droid led Anakin down a hallway; as they turned a corner, Anakin started to run. A human healer came around another corner, and backed against a hall as the Jedi flew past.

"He insisted that Jedi Master Kenobi was in pain and threatened to dismantle me if I did not let him be reassured that the patient is resting quietly," the droid spoke quickly to the startled Healer, who swung around and followed the Jedi into the room.

Anakin fell to his knees beside the bed, his eyes fixed on Obi-Wan. The pale figure in the bed seemed much smaller than Anakin remembered. He was bone white, matching the bandages he was encased in. He seemed to have shrunk in mere hours. He looked like a broken doll, stuck in an adult's bed.

Obi-Wan's breathing hadn't changed; it was still shallow and uneven, though harsher. He seemed to be whimpering, though the sound was faint and barely audible. Tears sparkled on his lashes. Anakin would have wept, but for his urgent need to spare Obi-Wan as much of that terrible pain as he could.

"You see, he is resting quietly," the droid said. The Healer came over and studied Obi-Wan's face, looked to the frustrated and clearly anxious young Jedi at his side, then turned to check the readouts on some of the instruments hooked up to the unconscious man.

"I tell you he is not - I'll show you!" Carefully, Anakin lowered his shields, bit by bit by bit, until his knees began to buckle and he could barely stand. "Now do you believe me, you tin-plated excuse for a doctor?" he gasped as the sweat gathered around his eyes and he clenched his teeth to keep from crying out.

"We have given him as much Xtyl as is safe," the droid insisted, sounding worried. "We cannot give him more."

"Xtyl! Didn't you check his medical history? He's allergic to it, in fact, to most medicines. He has terrible reactions to most drugs. You must contact the Jedi Temple on Coruscant and ask to speak to Healer Bant Eerin, or any other healer if she is not available. They can tell you what he can tolerate. Please. For your patient's sake." He felt himself sliding to the floor, and tried to raise his shields. He was not in time.

He came to, half lying across the chair in the corner of Obi-Wan's room, with a droid fussing over him. Quickly, he raised his shields high enough to sit upright, high enough to protect himself but as low as he dared, hoping by taking at least some of Obi-Wan's pain, he lessened what the Jedi felt.

The droid was apologetic, speaking quickly and staying well back from Anakin's glare.

"I have contacted your Temple. They confirmed he is having a bad reaction to Xtyl, and the only counter remedy we have will just make him worse, according to Healer Eerin. It seems that his body thinks it is being poisoned, and is trying to shut down - no, no, it won't actually poison him." If a droid could be doleful, this one was.

"Healer Eerin also said that Xytl does not suppress pain for this patient, and we are unable to give him anything for the pain he is experiencing until it is out of his system."

"Why did you give Xtyl without checking for reactions, first?" Anakin snapped.

"It is a standard sedative for humans; it is the drug of choice when a medical history has not been obtained, since so few have reactions to it. It is most unfortunate that your friend is an exception to this. It was also necessary to begin treatment on him before his history could be obtained. Delay of treatment was not an option when he was brought in."

"What does the Temple healer say to do?" Anakin tried hard to speak calmly. This time it was the human Healer who spoke up, his eyes full of regret. He laid a hand on Anakin's arm, only to have it shaken off.

He straightened up and spoke stiffly.

"Wait. When the drug starts to clear from his system, we start with something different. Unfortunately, that will take a few hours. Healer Eerin would like to speak to you, if you are Jedi Anakin Skywalker."

The healer turned and looked down at his patient, slowly shaking his head.

"I am," Anakin agreed. He hated to leave Obi-Wan, but it was Bant on the other end of the comchannel. Obi-Wan's friend. That was the only reason he would leave his master's side. He followed the droid to a small cubicle.

"Anakin, are you okay?" Bant sounded worried.

"Huh - me? I'm fine."

Bant didn't sound convinced. "They told me you had collapsed."

"Oh. That," Anakin laughed, shakily. "I had to prove to them that Obi-Wan was in pain, so I let my shields down a little too low. Obi-Wan is broadcasting through the bond pretty, ah, painfully. They insisted he was sedated and felt nothing."

"Well, they know better now," Bant sounded grim. "That Xtyl they gave him could kill him, especially in the condition he's reported to be in. He's allergic to it. I hope his body can handle it."

"Bant, I'm terribly worried about Obi-Wan. I swear he was dead… he practically died before I could get to him…." To his dismay, his voice cracked and tears came to his eyes.

"Calm down, Anakin," Bant said crisply, but he could hear how worried she was, too.

"Look, the Council wants to evacuate Obi-Wan and get him to the best treatment available, which is here on Coruscant, but he has to be stable before he can be moved. I've already transmitted to the Med Center there his medical history and what drugs he can tolerate - pathetically few, I'm afraid."

"Bant," he found it hard to speak. "I'm so afraid he'll…."

There was silence for a moment, and then Bant's voice came gently, "You, of all people, know just how hard it is to kill Obi-Wan Kenobi."

She didn't tell him that Obi-Wan had pulled off a miracle just surviving the wounds and shock. She had seen the medical report, and she knew the prognosis was bad. Terribly bad.

Anakin stared into space, and whispered, "But he's never been this badly hurt. Oh, Bant, if you could just see him now, you'd wonder if this is the time that someone succeeded. Obi-Wan can be k…killed; I just never believed it until - now." The young Jedi's shoulders shook as he tried to choke back the sobs.

He heard Bant's hiss of indrawn breath, followed by a crisp command as Bant slipped with difficulty back into healer mode.

"There is always hope, Anakin. You have to believe that. He doesn't have much of a chance if he doesn't fight, but he is a fighter. He doesn't give up, whatever the odds. Believe that. Believe in Obi-Wan."

"I…I will." Anakin promised. He sniffled, and rubbed the back of his hand across his nose, only to freeze in mid-motion. Obi-Wan always frowned at him when he caught Anakin doing that. He never said anything, just frowned and shook his head mournfully. It drove Anakin crazy; couldn't Obi-Wan just ignore him?

He had never thought that his dearest wish would be to have Obi-Wan scowling disapprovingly at him. Bant had not noticed his distraction and had kept talking.

"...the best way to stabilize him. You can help speed this up by staying near him, if you can, and taking some of his pain, as much as you can handle, through your bond. Remember to release it into the Force. Don't weaken yourself; you'll need to be strong for him and feed him strength when he can handle it. Do you understand? Just take the pain overload, if you can, that's all."

"I understand."

"Anakin, I mean it. Don't overdo it - that won't help him, understand? You have to save your strength for later, when he'll need you even more than now. The only pain medication he is able to tolerate gets less effective with him over time. As he heals, he'll be awake more and more."

Obi-Wan Kenobi's intolerance to medicine was well known in the Temple. Nearly every shot, every pill he had ever had, had caused extreme side effects. Some of them had, in hindsight, been almost funny.

One legendary story had it that after one particularly bad reaction when he was quite young, Obi-Wan had slipped out of his bed and wandered the halls until he had ended up in Master Yoda's quarters. He had climbed into bed with the little Master and squealed with delight that he had found a toy Gungan doll.

It was with great difficulty that the little Master disengaged himself from the boy and comm'd the Healers to come get him. When they arrived, Yoda was in the corner with his gimer stick blocking the boy's advance, muttering he was no Gungan, and no doll, and that any Jedi who didn't know better had no business being a Jedi.

The next morning the Master had come in, pointed at Obi-Wan, and thrust a stuffed animal at the astonished healers and told them to give it to the sick youngling. He had scowled at them, daring them to repeat the story. The story was around the Temple within hours.

Most drugs, though, made him extremely sick, sometimes with an extreme allergic reaction. Obi-Wan Kenobi was known as the only Jedi who got sicker in the healers ward, rather than better. Obi-Wan had a most un-Jedi-like reaction to the place: he hated it. He had insisted his padawan learn enough basic first aid that he could avoid the place whenever possible.

"Anakin - can you be spared to sit with him until we arrive? We're going to bring him back to Coruscant, but if you are needed elsewhere you know where your duty lies."

"I know, and I understand. I'll watch for the transport," Anakin promised, and signed off.

Official duty be darned; he knew where his duty was. At his master's side.