Chapter 21: Meaningful Exchanges

He wasn't sure if it was the howling wind, or the beating headache that hammered him back into reality. But either way, all he was really aware of was the raging storm outside (sounding like a horde of gundarks against the hull), the thrumming that had brought him out of sweet, blissful unconsciousness… and the abnormal amount of saliva in his mouth.

Kenobi hoicked the mess to his left as soon as he felt the oozing substance begin to slip down airways. Disgusting. Bringing himself somewhat upright, the space around him began to swim with colours, until he could make out surfaces and a doorway.

He blinked.

The horrible taste of sand (how does one come to know what sand tastes like?) lined his mouth.

The room was a wash with sombre colours, the only warmth provided by the dusky orange hue of the wall lights. It took him a moment before he realised where he was, and why he was hooked up to medical.

The storm.

When had they made it? Try as he might, he just couldn't recall—

Ahsoka.

Her face was the last thing he could recall before the burning flare, and inevitable black. They'd been racing across the Wastes. She'd wanted to stop—

The pounding in his head wouldn't leave him alone, and after a few involuntary jerks of pain, Kenobi resigned himself to dipping into the Force. The cool waves rushed over him, benevolent and soothing as they met the trembling edges of his headache.

The minor stretch into the Force had further repercussions, however, and Obi-Wan was finally left staring at the only other occupant of the room. Folded precariously upon a (what had to be) pilfered chair, Ahsoka Tano quietly snored into the fold of her arm. She gave a mild start, which left her arms tightening further around herself, before she'd nestled her montrals back against the sides of the out-of-place seat with a content sigh.

He exhaled a lungful of air he wasn't aware he'd been holding. The Force again slid peacefully into its untroubled lull, ebbing quietly between the two force-sensitives.

A hand came up to rifle through the hair at the nape of his neck, fingers snagging as they ran down the length of his tied-back hair. Lovely. For once, he imagined, he knew what it was like to be Ahsoka Tano; waking up in a strange place with no explanation as to how she'd wound up there. Because the backdrop of the desolate Wastes of Tatooine was what he had been expecting to wake too. After all, that was where his memory stopped and should have started — a poor pun, Ahsoka rolling her eyes through laboured breaths, and that storm ever-so-close on their heels.

A brilliant flash of white, a strangled scream… and then darkness.

With a heavy thunk, his head connected with the cushioned gurney behind him. Alright, so perhaps not so cushioned. Blast.

"Hey, Mister. Don't quote me on this, but I think we incited Captain Panaka's irritable headache."

From the gloom beside him, her voice floated, garbled by sleep and exhaustion. Obi-Wan sighed. "Did you look at him the wrong way?"

The sound of shifting cloth and cracking limbs came from his right then, and he hazarded a look to the stretching padawan. He hadn't meant to disturb her.

"No. I think maybe my getting lost in a sandstorm, while lugging your unconscious body back may have angered him. He had to come and rescue us."

Oh. And there was the much needed explanation that he'd been waiting for. Truthfully, that wasn't far from what he'd been expecting. Guilt bit away at him then, as he took in the bacta patch on her shoulder, and sand-white garments. A hand came up to rub away the grogginess from his face, battling fatigue and finding the fiendish grains at his cheeks.

"Well, thank the Force that he did." He began to sit up, seething at the screaming muscles and unsteady limbs. "Judging by the taste in my mouth, I don't think my lungs could withstand another helping of sand."

And perhaps the universe just wanted to prove a point, because as he settled, hearing the disks in his back crack, the coughing started. A raucous wave of wheezes and hacking, a hand flew to his mouth to stop anything untoward from flying forward. "Force." His voice was grated by what could only be described as sandpaper. "Did I swallow the entire desert? Blast." Another cough. Another lurch. With an empathetic smile, Ahsoka sat forward till her elbows dug into her knees.

"Close, but just short. You know, if you hadn't chosen that exact moment to topple on me, then we would have made it safe and sound."

Between the coughing, and off-putting amounts of saliva, Obi-Wan managed a laugh. Ahsoka joined, but she was cut off as his laughter inevitably turned sour. She counted another four violent jerks before she began to worry at her lip.

Concern now spurring her on, she inched forwards once more. A hand reached across the space between them… until she was paused, almost tipping at the edge of her lavish seat. Long fingers hung in the air above his shoulder, lingering as her mind caught up with her actions. Only now did she finally see the fair expanse of toned muscles and freckles dusted across supple shoulders.

She blinked, and instead found herself passing a cup of water she'd poured earlier for him — incase this happened. Him, waking up in the night, of course. Not… her panicking over…

Yeah.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Ahsoka allowed herself a moment to watch him drink, hoping the water would fend off the remaining sand… for the time being, at least. When the glass was drained, it exchanged hands and Ahsoka took care to align said glass with its watermark upon the gurney's side-table. And when he watched her with restless eyes, she drew her knees to her chest. She told herself it was because of the settling cold, not because she now craved some sort of distance between them. She would have had the exact same reaction to Anakin, shirtless and suddenly staggeringly vulnerable.

Her stomach became tight at the sight of Obi-Wan Kenobi holding his head in his hands. Markings creased upwards, and soft eyes watched him. The sudden, unwanted image came to her, of him lifeless upon the sandy plains, and her helpless above him. "What was it?"

"I have no idea. But there is something wrong. Something I can't… I can't explain."

No words like elusive or elsewhere or enigma. No usual clever quip or observance to answer her question. Just a poor image of Obi-Wan Kenobi hunched over on a gurney, prying bandaged hands away from his temples.

"I felt it too," she tried not to whisper, but she couldn't bring herself to break the heavy silence that the moment demanded. Yet the sheer look of lost that paled the familiar colour of Obi-Wan's cheeks begged her for some sort of assurance. Finally, her hand dared the distance and slipped onto his forearm. Picking her emotions carefully, Ahsoka offered herself as a safeguard past her tumbling shields. She paid little heed to the tightening muscles beneath her fingers.

Grey eyes seemed to flicker at her in the gloom.

"It was Qui-Gon."

His quiet words were strangled in the space between. Something intense built under the palm at his wrist, and she didn't know what to make of the chill that was racing through her bones. "I can't sense him, even if I—"

No!

Force no.

... was it too late?

Panic molested her, a bout of turbulent nausea assaulting her very being.

He wasn't— He can't die here. He can't. A hand fled to her middle, and she tried to disguise her sudden jolt by smoothing the fabric there. But of course, Obi-Wan being who he was… Discerning eyes cast to her incriminating hand. Force, even she knew it was feeble. Those brows furrowed further in confusion before his gaze met her's again, almost challenging.

"Ahsoka? Are you—"

"Yeah. Yes, I'm fine."

For a moment, her grandmaster's mouth hung open in muted question; until she found him blinking away. The frown still hadn't disappeared from between his brows, though, but she'd give him a moment to collect his thoughts. Force knew she needed a moment to collect hers, because they were coming much too fast and strong now. She wasn't aware her shields were up until she felt the fortified Separatist base pulsing around her, the same angry red.

Darth Maul.

The Sith.

The future had come early.

Oh Force… Anakin.

I shouldn't have left them.

"Do you—" Painfully quiet, Obi-Wan's voice called her away from her panic. And when she met those eyes... Oh no. Her heart plummeted to the floor of her pelvis, beating to the pounding rhythm of a battalion of charging men. Please don't ask this. But it was, of course, a useless hope. Again she was reminded of who exactly she was sharing sterilised air with. "You know what it is, don't you."

…

A frenzied flash of red and black. Snarling teeth; blurring sabers; quick hands not quick enough; a wall of red; booted feet skidding to a stop… A desperate plea never to be answered… Please.

"I— "

But then Tatooine stretched far before her. A lone, hooded figure sat silently on an a swelling of rocks. Gone was the Dathomirian, instead gentle curves peered passed heavy robes. Yellow eyes shot in her direction.

…

She didn't know she was shaking her head until she could see defeat staring back across the level sands. "I can't answer that anymore."

"What do you mean?"

When she was back on board the Nubian cruiser, safely hidden by bulkheads, outer hulls and the night, she merely returned his gaze and watched as he hung his head. Ahsoka swallowed, worried when she took in the same flickering defeat in his hung head, that bore into from her across the sands.

The darkness seemed to meet them at their edges then, the unnatural howl of the storm growing from the shadows around them. Darth Maul's vicious display of rage, Anakin's, Vader's yellow eyes… they now burned alongside a complete strangers, and she had no idea what it all meant. So she gave Master Obi-Wan the only surety she could muster. "It means exactly that. I don't know anymore." No one said anything about it being positive.

"I have a bad feeling about this." She barely heard it over the storm.

"You and me both, Master."

At least they could share a smile.

... She forced herself to overlook the faint dip at the corners of his already strained grin.

"Normally, I'd suggest we'd go back right now no matter what, but there's a hundred foot wall of sand storm between us and them, you've just been announced clinically undead, and—" Ahsoka yawned, cutting off anything else that could possibly have been said. A brow arched her way.

"And someone needs to sleep."

"We both need to sleep."

"How much caf are you running on right now?"

"How much caf aren't I running on, you mean?"

A smooth line of unorthodox, sand-coated Jedi garb and Togruta, she was away from the chair. Kenobi watched as she came to a pause beside his gurney, pressing a hand to her waist through a seethe. "For Force sakes. Never be deceived by seemingly comfy-looking chairs. They lure you in and wait."

He gave a soft snort, before he allowed himself to stretch flat against the gurney once more. A hand came up to attempt battle with the fatigue setting in.

She didn't know. How could she not know? In all his eleven years as a Jedi Padawan, he'd never experienced such volatile bouts of what he could only describe as confusion from the Force. They took shape and wild flight in fortified blasts that cost them consciousness for indeterminate amounts of time… And now it seemed it was Qui-Gon's turn. He'd never felt such an impassive blankness from him. Never. Try as he might to tap along their bond, there was only silence. No, not just that… complete blankness. He can't be de— No, pull yourself together, Kenobi. Somehow, there was comfort to be found in Ahsoka's internalised mulling and brooding… if she had begun to tread on eggshells, then he would grant himself the frowned-upon indulgence of panic.

"Kriff… What is that?"

Huh?

Turning his head gave him a lopsided view of said girl. Somehow, she'd wound up on his left, and wore the most illustrative expression of repugnance that he'd ever seen. It took him a few moments, and a few puzzling dead ends, before he had the answer to her sudden repulsion.

Oh.

"That is unfortunately evidence of the human respiratory and nervous system at its finest."

"Oh. Ew."

"I'm sorry."

He kneaded the ache in his shoulder as she strode to the medical cabinet. As she returned, a swathe of heavy fabric unrolled before her. "Well, better that than you drowning in your own saliva, I suppose."

"Yes. I must say… that'd be quite the way to go. I can just see Master Qui-Gon attempting an explanation to the Council now. Obi-Wan unfortunately, and pathetically drowned in his own saliva."

"Here."

At the newly revealed blanket being dumped in his lap, Kenobi frowned.

"What's this for?"

"Usually we use it to keep ourselves warm." With little heed paid to her sarcasm, he narrowed eyes at her. Ahsoka drew in a long breath at the familiar sight. "Because you're staying." Those eyes merely narrowed further. "Doctors orders. I'm to keep watch over you."

When he offered her nothing else, except a startling show of defiance by pulling back the bundle of blanket in his lap and pushing boots over the elevated lip of the gurney, it was Ahsoka's turn to narrow eyes. Strangely, it came across as a very Skywalker-flouts-the-rules thing to do. Well, if ever she had trouble envisioning Master Kenobi turning a blind eye to the establishment… "I've also been ordered to demonstrate necessary force if need be. However, I have no desire to restrain the temporary cripple, so if you please,"

"…Temporary cripple?"

Ahsoka sunk into the chair once more with a huff. "Be quiet and go to sleep. We've gotta long hike back to Mos Espa tomorrow. Anakin's got that—" Anakin.

The name slapped her across the face, delivering the same acrid punch as Barriss' fist had a week ago. Anakin. She'd left Anakin in the care of Master Jinn… Who'd gone as quiet as the grave. She'd be lying if she said wasn't worried sick... It was just the novelty of and panic driven by the situation that rendered her strangely speechless.

"Ahsoka?"

"I'm alright." When she lifted her head to his, she set her jaw. "First thing tomorrow morning, we have to go back."

"I couldn't agree more."

And when the blanket had finally (begrudgingly) been pulled too, Obi-Wan settled back. The quiet shifting of Ahsoka folding into herself filled the silence, and then the room was left with only the demonic swirling and howling as the storm vied to burry the cruiser in the desert. Obi-Wan just hoped they'd be able to open the cargo bay doors come tomorrow morning.

"Ahsoka!" He slipped in the burning sand, boots sliding out from beneath his writhing form. "No! Qui-Gon! MOM!" But the hand at his chest never relented; while the boy twisted and squirmed as if his very life depended on it, the figure that held him was a formidable glacier that carved through sand. A lightsaber skittered underfoot. Flat on the ground, a hand, once lifeless, twitched. Anakin's head snapped sideways, but hope was defeated as the lightsaber sprung to life and sliced the limb from its once owner with a sickening dispassion. Anakin's eyes burst wide, and what little control he had shattered — the tears poured down red, swollen cheeks. The lightsaber — Obi-Wan's — was latched back to a foreign belt. A robe fell around sharp hips, the boy's wails agonising.

...

The day became night, too many times to count, as seasons came and went and colossal mountains of sand burst upwards across the never-ending planes. As finally darkness prevailed, the night brought a bone-chilling cold. Speckled lights lit up the the strange sand-formations... and Coruscant stretched before her, in all its nightly glory.

A lone balcony on a building she struggled to place swirled into view, and two hooded figures stood observing, preying on the nightly flow of traffic. The Force swirled upwards in darkness, and the two silhouettes turned. From her distant view, she placed a third figure released from the shadows of a far-off corner. Those concealing robes, that feminine air... Distrust and malice washed the Force, before the figure collapsed to yielding knees before the blackened pair.

A hideous smile flashed beneath a shadowed cowl.

"No!" The guttural sound tore from her throat, a hand grasping madly for the expanse of her neck. The familiar feel of the material and silver band there encouraged calm. A few measured, delirium-shattering breaths saw the tension flood from her muscles, and brought her back from Coruscant and that quiet, swirling sand.

"Ahsoka."

A hand was at her wrist, pulling shaking fingers away from a pounding heartbeat, before she could raise her head to who had just called her. Obi-Wan Kenobi's gaze bore into her, and she blinked at the uncertain intensity flaring in his eyes. "I— I'm alright." She didn't even manage to convince herself. But that hand at her wrist let go, and she blinked at the gentle slip of calloused fingers against the exposed skin there. She'd seen that hand severed, fingers uncurling in the sand at the horrific, emotionless dismemberment.

"Come on. It's 0700. I have no doubt whatever physician is onboard will want to sneak in at any moment."

She let a smile slip cross her lips, but it never touched her distant eyes. "Worried they'll try and detain you?"

Detain. Anakin.

"Obi-Wan. We need to leave. Now."

"What is it?" His frown matched the sudden gravity of her tone, and took away that gentle humour.

"It's Anakin."

A/N: Next chapter, we'll finally be getting back to Mos Espa. Whoo! The cruiser seemed to take forever. I rewrote this sequence so many times — I was never quite happy with how it played out. Anyway, poor Ahsoka. The Force just seems to be taken with the idea of bombarding her with everything wrong in the galaxy. Anyway, I'm sure you noticed that this story isn't beta-ed. So please excuse any spelling mistakes or the likes, I can only pick up so much on the seventh re-read of each chapter.

And once again, I'm delighted that people are taking to the characterisations so well. Thank you to all those who favourited and followed, and to those who reviewed, you rock!

Oh... And on one final note, GUESS WHO'S EXCITED! Thank the Force, The Clone Wars is back! You can reach me through John Boyega, as we both sit, stuff our mouths with popcorn and fangirl together.

~Autumn.