Chapter 12

This chapter is a heavy one. Just giving all a fair warning without spoiling anything.

Anakin stared straight ahead, trying to block out the voices from his conscious mind. They weren't talking about him. They're talking about someone else.

"So the gel goes in first, then the suppository," Rex confirmed. Master Che clanked something together behind him. Anakin shivered against his will.

"Yes, Captain. Now stop second guessing yourself and finish the job," Master Che grumbled. Anakin winced as Rex pressed his clammy hand to his back, steadying himself. As healed as his spine may be, it was still tender to the touch.

Especially after all the work it was just put through.

Master Che had woken him up so that he would be ready to get to the 'fresher after she went through the steps to the treatment one more time with Rex (blasted Kenobi and his poor instruction). The small amount of blessed rest was cut short, and Anakin was forced to be conscious for the whole program.

Not. Cool.

Anakin felt his eyelids drooping as he tried to zone out the busyness behind him. If he could only get a few more winks of sleep, then maybe things wouldn't seem so dismal. Just a couple minutes, then…

His eyes slid shut and he was asleep again, steered into a dream within seconds. He saw Obi-Wan, lightsaber raised and blazing. There was blood seeping from a wound on his chest, turning the usually very clean and crisp tunic a deep rusted color.

"You can't keep going like this, General!" someone shouted. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, seemingly fighting back the burning desire to fall over, let the darkness win. When he opened them, Anakin thought he could see flames dancing in his pupils.

"Do not lose heart, men! I understand your concern, but I am stronger than a wound such as this. Press forward! I'll have your backs," Obi-Wan said, his voice hoarse, agony laced throughout every syllable. Anakin wanted to scream, tell Obi-Wan to sit down, get a medic, do something other than keep walking toward whatever they were fighting. Or, whoever they were fighting.

"Skywalker."

Anakin watched in horror as the clones surrounding his Master left him, turning back around and charging back into the fight. No, they couldn't leave Obi-Wan! He wasn't fine, he was badly injured!

"Skywalker…"

As the last clone turned his back, Obi-Wan Kenobi, the strongest pillar in Anakin's life, collapsed onto the ground clutching at his wound.

"Skywalker!"

Anakin was jerked out of the nightmare by Rex's yelp and Master Che's firm shaking. He blinked, thinking of what he saw, sure that it was urgent. "Master Che, I think that Master Ke—"

"Skywalker, I need you to cooperate with me. Get into your wheelchair. Now," Master Che ordered, clearly in no mood to go over Anakin's dreams with him. Whatever motherly tone she had used with him earlier in the day seemed to be obliterated. Harshly obliterated.

Anakin started pulling himself into a sitting position when he heard Rex swear. Then swear again. Anakin looked around him, then let out a string of curses himself.

Another accident.

This time, he couldn't blame it on the new med corp assistant.

Picking up his pace, trying so hard to hold it in, Anakin was helped into his chair and rushed to the 'fresher. Falling asleep, plus the nightmare, must have messed with the program.

Master Che didn't even shut the door, just stood with her back to him. He felt absolutely awful.

He had let down Master Che.

Rex had seen it.

Without as much as giving him the decency to crap alone, Master Che started ordering around the med corp that had rushed to their head Healer's side. Clean here, dispose that, hand that to me.

He was an adult. A Jedi. An independent, free, hospitalized man who can't control his own bowels. The question that had jumbled up his thoughts for the last three months came rushing back to him, full force: why, of all people, did it have to be me that became paralyzed?

Then the image of Obi-Wan, alone, hurt, on the battlefield shattered Anakin's self-pity. He needed to tell the others before it was too late for Obi-Wan to…

Anakin's breathing picked up pace.

He skin prickled with the beginning of a feverish sweat.

Obi-Wan could be dead.

"Mast-ter Che!" Anakin managed, trying to pull himself off of the toilet. "Mast—ghh." Anakin doubled over, clutching his chest. What little food he had eaten earlier in the day seemed to be gathered in his throat uncomfortably, not to mention his chest feeling like it was about to explode.

Obi-Wan's pain.

Vokara Che turned around slowly, sure that Skywalker was being overly-dramatic. She knew he was embarrassed about the accident (that her med corp members were currently grumbling about cleaning up), but it was new for him to seek out her help. He was a stubborn one, Skywalker.

What she expected to see was the exact opposite of what her eyes reported she was seeing.

Skywalker was hunched over, fingernails digging bloody crescents into his torso, as he evidently was trying to ride out some sort of pain. He kept trying to make out the words "Master," but was failing miserably at it. Vokara couldn't decide whether he was calling for her, or caught up in another nightmare about Kenobi.

Yes, she knew what he was dreaming about.

He was shouting for someone to stay with his injured Master, so loud that Skywalker's Captain had to walk away to free himself from the agony Skywalker's tone produced. As soon as the Captain's firm grip was released from Skywalker's sphincter, the accident started, and everything went tumbling down hill from there.

Vokara stopped thinking, pressing herself to go into her Healer instincts. Check for pulse, breathing rhythm, life threatening injuries, abnormal-ness, responsiveness. For some reason unknown to her, she was having a hard time separating herself from the situation. She was Master Healer Che, not Vokara. Not Skywalker's mother. Master Healer Che.

So act like it, she scolded herself.

"Skywalker, where does it hurt? You need to talk to me so I can fix the pain," Vokara said, trying to stop the boy's shuddering. His eyes leaked tears that dripped onto his bare knees. Folded nearly in half, Skywalker clung to his chest as if he was afraid his heart was about to jump out from behind his ribs.

"Mast-er Obi-Wan's h-hurt, Mast-t-ter's gonna leav-ve me here," Anakin stuttered, eyes making contact for the first time. Vokara held her breath. "'M so dizzy, c'n't breath g-good."

Every symptom led to one answer, but it wasn't an answer that Vokara wanted to diagnose.

Anakin was having a panic attack.

Vokara acted quickly, finally finding the smooth calmness she knew to be her Healer-self. Calling quickly for Skywalker's Captain, she started for the 'fresher door. Rex was at Skywalker's side in seconds, gripping onto his shoulders and speaking quiet comforts to him. Vokara quickly crossed the room to her carrying bag, stocked full of emergency supplies for situations that she could only guess could happen. So far, all of them have happened so Skywalker.

Finding the sedative she was looking for, Vokara gripped the syringe with a slight tremor wracking through her body. She did not like to drug Skywalker because she knew how much he hated it. Still, he didn't give her much of a choice. She couldn't leave him quaking on the toilet until the fit ended.

Vokara gathered her strength, then marched back into the 'fresher. Skywalker didn't look any better. The boy leaned heavily on Rex's grip, hair dangling in front of his face, obscuring the look of terror on his face.

Do it, Vokara commanded herself. You are not Skywalker's chummy friend. You are his Healer.

She unlocked the lid off of the needle with a small click, and flicked it twice.

It does not matter if he thinks you are an enemy.

Approaching from the side, she caught the defeated look of the boy's friend, both so young, weren't they? Barely out of training, eyes barely lost their wonder…

With a quick, practiced motion, Vokara inserted the needle into Skywalker's thigh.

Anakin's eyes followed the needle, up her arm, and to her face. His eyes were full of the shards of betrayal.

"Why? My Master needs my help!" his eyes pleaded.

Vokara responded to that terrified gaze by giving more sedative.

Villain.

Her hand was a claw, holding the little boy still, slowly releasing the sedative into his bloodstream. The boy lashed out weakly, still pleading for her to save his beloved Master. His friend gripped him tightly, as if he was embracing him to say goodbye.

Vokara had to get out.

She could not torture this child any longer. Her will had given out, her strength diminished in a day's worth of watching her patient struggle on her instructions.

The syringe was empty, and her heart felt the same.

Without flourish, she turned and fled the 'fresher, turning only to tell Rex that the sedative should take effect in fifteen minutes. She did not bother to take her emergency bag.

You're the villain he thinks you are, her mind lashed out at her.

Villain, Healer: what was the difference any more?

Ahsoka held a droid head in her hands, plotting her revenge with careful brushstrokes of anger. Echo and Fives worked dutifully beside her, constructing and programming droid after droid. Rex didn't plan on having them used like this, did he?

Too bad he got to spend time with her Master, and didn't get his vote in.

She looked around at her miniature army gathered around her. Leo was sitting in his hoverchair, IV line beside him, scribbling obscene things on the chests of the droids to mark them as reprogrammed to anyone who had seen the front lines of battle. Master Che would never know that a graffiti-droid was as good as dead to the Separatists. At least, that was what they hoped.

They'd been working for what seemed like hours, securing bolts and twisting wires together until each droid had come to life before their eyes.

Carefully attaching the head she was holding, Ahsoka smiled as the droid's mechanical eyes blinked a hazy yellow at her. She gave it a gun, folded it into the charging position, and sat down.

The hangar was silent and abandoned except for the Commander and her army of mismatched soldiers. General Skywalker's ship was the only ship in the hangar, it's faded silver-and-yellow coating covered in a layer of dust. It was the perfect place to hatch an illegal plot of vengeance.

Fives passed the last droid over to Leo to graffiti, watching his brother carefully for signs of pain. He had fallen asleep so quickly and quietly that none of them noticed he was unconscious until it was too late, and they'd woken him up again with excited voices and loud footsteps. He was being a good sport about helping out, but Fives could tell he'd rather be in bed, sleeping off the pain.

"Do you think that Master Skywalker's ship works?" Ahsoka asked them offhandedly. Echo shrugged.

"Not sure, Commander. Captain Rex must have gotten it in the hangar somehow, but who knows if it works now. Besides, I wouldn't be surprised if the Captain just scared the ship into flying," Echo joked. Ahsoka just nodded, eyes distant.

Suddenly, Ahsoka flinched. Then she put her hand to her heart.

"It's my Master," Ahsoka said, frightened eyes meeting each of her clone companions. "He's in pain but…it's not the same. He's scared."

Fives looked helplessly to Echo, hoping that he would have some sort of witty response. Jedi, Fives thought decisively, are fairly dramatic for being so unfeeling.

"I-I'm not sure how much we can do," Echo admitted. "We can't leave these droids here in the open. Anyone could see them."

Ahsoka started to bite her nails.

"We'll put them in Master's ship, folded like this—" Ahsoka suggested, motioning toward the finished droid next to her. "If I still feel this…what my Master feels, I'm going to find him. Master Che can't stop me."

"Of course, Commander," the clones said, nearly in unison.

They all jumped into action, folding the droids and placing them in the dusty ship. As spacious as it was (it did have to fit a wheelchair), it was a tight fit with the droids piled high. Not stopping to admire their handiwork, they abandoned the ship and returned to where Leo said, hovering, and nearly asleep again.

"Well," Fives prompted his Commander. "What do you feel?"

Ahsoka scrunched her brow, evidently confused on what was coming through her bond with her Master. "It's so strange. The pain is still there, but it's muted…and it almost feels like…like he's coming closer."

Echo shared a puzzled glance with his brothers.

I'm getting a job with General Koon's division, Fives thought. I can't take any more of this.

"Get in that ship!"

Everyone turned sharply to see Captain Rex running haphazardly into the hangar, General Skywalker in front of him. In his hand was a big black bag. The Captain's tone spurred everyone into action, scrambling toward the ship they had just stuffed full of stolen droids. Even the formerly-drowsy Leo raced toward the ship.

They piled into the questionable ride, squishing together to let Rex push Anakin through. The urgency of the situation was in the forefront of everyone's mind, but no one dared voice the question.

"Ahsoka, plug in the coordinates to Naboo, Eastern Swamps. Anakin," Rex said, his tone dropping softer. "We're going to go save General Kenobi. It's going to be okay."

Anakin nodded once, tiredly placing his hand in Rex's and squeezing lightly. Rex let a small smile grace his features before he turned back to his clueless crew.

"We need this hunk of junk ready to fly, now. General Kenobi's injured, most likely alone, and undoubtedly surrounded by Separatists. We're gonna bring him home," Rex said, slamming his fist into his open palm for emphasis.

"What's…what's going on?" Fives asked quietly, wondering if he was dreaming. Echo nodded slowly, seconding Fives' confusion.

It was the General who spoke.

"I saw Obi-Wan on the battlefield, chest slashed open, but still wanting to fight. He s-sent his clones away before he collapsed. I…I d-didn't see anything else. All I know, is that Obi-Wan is not-t going to die without me there. Paralyzed or not, I'm not going to sit b-back while my friends bleed out on the front," Anakin said, stumbling over his words. The exhaustion in his voice rang like a warning bell.

"We're going to fight?" Ahsoka asked, trying to hide her eagerness to get back out onto the battlefield. She looked from person to person, trying to gather their odds. "But…you are all in your hospital clothes. And I'm the only one with a weapon."

"Not true!" Echo said, catching on to the excitement. "We armed the droids right before we stuck them in here! They've all got loaded guns!"

"Droids?" Rex questioned, looking around him to find the stack of battered metal to his left. "Why are my droids assembled? They were for Anakin to fix up!"

Ahsoka let out a sheepish laugh. Her so-called plan for revenge seemed so foolish now that she was with her Master.

"Never mind that," Ahsoka said quickly. "We've got to get to Naboo!" She jumped into the co-pilot's seat, buckling herself in, waiting for her Master to join her in the pilot's spot. "C'mon, Master…." She trailed off, recognizing her mistake.

Anakin looked at her, those weary eyes tearing her heart into ribbons.

"You be the pilot, Snips," he said, trying to form a smile. "You've always had a knack for the wheel."

She could have flown to Naboo without the ship on those words from her Master. He had confidence in her. She wouldn't let him down.

Fives took the co-pilot seat, pressing what Ahsoka instructed him to do. Rex rigged Anakin's wheelchair to bolt to the ground, sitting close by in case he had to hold his General in his chair on takeoff or landing.

Without difficulty, the ship cruised out of the hangar, and into the open atmosphere.

"It's a miracle this ship even flies," Echo whispered, in awe at the ship as much as Ahsoka's piloting. He didn't realize she was old enough to fly.

"Let's hope for one more miracle, then," Rex said. "We've gotta hope that Master Che doesn't send an armada after us to bring Anakin back. She…doesn't exactly know we left."

Ahsoka covered her grin with her hand.

This was even better than the revenge she had planned.

"Two more," Anakin added, his voice hoarse. "Obi-Wan has to live."

The ship's crew went reverently silent.

"I'm so tired," Anakin whispered. Rex had to lean in to hear him. "You'll save him, won't you Rex? He can't die alone. Heroes don't die alone."

Before Rex could answer, the sedative stole Anakin away from reality and he willingly gave in to unconsciousness.

If you can find the time, I'd appreciate if you comment on whether or not you'd like more narration from Padmé. I'd work her in more often if you enjoy her point of view. As always, thank you for reading.

-Gabe