Chapter 29
Obi-Wan came to be conscious first. His head felt stuffed, his eyes too swollen to see clearly. Wherever he lay was a light blue tinged with pink at the edges. A indistinctive shape lurked just out of his line of sight.
"Nhh," he slurred, his mouth numb and uncoordinated. The shape turned.
"Master Jedi, can you hear me this time?" said the shape. Obi-Wan couldn't remember if the cuff was still around his neck. He didn't dare acknowledge the voice, who sounded like he had turned away from him. "Not lucid again, my brother. It isn't uncommon for head injuries of this scale. He might never be the same."
Obi-Wan grunted in discomfort as the shapes blurred in front of him again, morphing into a sea green lump above him.
"Anakin?" he managed this time, struggling to blink away the moisture gathering in his eyes, tired of the unadjusted light. "My Padawan, please."
"He's asleep, Master Jedi. Beside you. Here," the shape took his hand, locking it into another hand's limp grasp. "This is his hand. Feel his pulse."
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, finding Anakin's bond and slipping into it easily. All his former padawan's shields were down, a muted nausea rolling across the line. He was feverish, Obi-Wan could feel, and without permission probed farther, searching for other injuries. A bruised cheek, stitched chin, undecipherable leg injury.
"Master?"
Obi-Wan snapped out of Anakin's mind. The confused, pained voice in his head echoed, and he felt the young man's presence slog to become brighter. Obi-Wan went about setting up his mental shields quickly, already feeling Anakin's mind probing to see how hurt his former mentor was.
"Get out of my head," Obi-Wan croaked, his voice barely heard through his garbled ears. He turned his head toward Anakin.
"Are you okay?" Anakin asked slowly, anxiety tumbling over to Obi-Wan, who met it with an instinctive push of calm. He squeezed Anakin's hand as best he could.
"I can't see you, young one. Tell me how you feel."
Another, stronger strike of panic. "You're blind?"
Obi-Wan bent his numb lips into a smile. "Not entirely. My face is swollen, isn't it?"
"Yeah."
"That explains quite a bit then. How bad does it look?"
Anakin choked out a laugh. "Not much different than usual."
Obi-Wan grimaced as a wave of dizziness hit. He turned to face forward again. Anakin worked his fingers to lace through his master's hand. Obi-Wan fought to stay awake.
"Force help us, who knows what kind of drugs are running through our systems. I can barely keep my eyes open."
"Are they really open, Master?"
Obi-Wan frowned.
"I'm kidding, Master, I'm sorry."
Obi-Wan felt the shapes pass over him again, and a cool sensation bloomed on his face. He reached out with the Force, feeling for what could have caused the small portion of relief.
Pirates, his senses told him.
"Tell me how you feel," he asked again, fighting the urge to lash out at the enemies around him. He was not strong enough to fight, and not certain his foes were really there. He could not trust his own eyes, and though all the speeches he had given Anakin, and all the speeches Qui Gon had given him, the thought terrified him.
"I don't know," was the quiet answer. "Better, knowing you'll be okay. You should sleep."
"I doubt I will be able to." The cold on his face was becoming intense, almost burning, and even with the sedatives and pain blockers he felt every twinge.
"Should I start, then?" Anakin said. Obi-Wan remembered the familiar question, referring to their ritual hospital game, and brought a weary hand to wipe away the tears in his eyes. His face felt like a rugged planet surface. Anakin squeezed his hand harder. "Master, c'mon, we're not too old for this, right?"
"Naboo," Obi-Wan whispered, chest already rising and falling in a steady, relaxed rhythm. The cold was starting to fade behind the pull of sleep.
"Coruscant."
"Tatooine."
"Endor."
"Ryloth."
"Jakku."
"Bespin…"
Anakin felt Obi-Wan's hand go limp in his, felt his mental shields fizz. He lets his own drop, exhausted by the small amount of effort it took. Without Obi-Wan's calming energy flowing through his mind, he felt his emotions start to spiral. The fingers that weren't intwined with Obi-Wan's drummed uncontrollably on the side of his mattress. He tried to take a deeper breath, but it caught in his tightly bandaged chest.
Buuca was at his side at the first cough, hands on his chest and back, holding his bruised ribs. He shut his eyes, leaning into Buuca's stomach.
"All right, all right," Buuca murmured. "Get it all out."
When the fit ended, Buuca lowered him back down to the pillow. He inched back down into the covers, fishing for Obi-Wan's hand that he dropped.
Wet. His tunic was wet.
"Blast it," Anakin swore as Buuca looked sadly from the soaked mattress. "Buuca, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"Completely my fault," the old pirate said, holding up his hands to placate the younger man. "We'll just move you to another bed."
"You can't." He felt the panic in his chest grow, pressing against his ribs in his heartbeat's speeding rhythm. Obi-Wan's hand hung too far out of his reach.
"Then I won't."
Buuca helped him sit up, positioning the railings on the side of the bed higher to keep Anakin from falling. The cords that hung from his chest, from the walls, from his collarbones had to be tucked to the side. He started to pull Anakin's tunic off, starting at his shoulders, but Anakin took his wrist. The pirate stopped.
"I should have asked, forgive me."
Anakin swallowed down the bile building in his throat and let go. "Just get it over with quick."
So Buuca pulled the fabric down, the bottom half undone and peeled off with some discomfort and tangling. He gave Anakin the dry sheet back, and the Jedi pulled it up over him. Everything felt too close, too itchy, too cold. His fever made the room pitch and stir. Buuca had started to talk, but his tunneling embarrassment blocked out most of the words.
"—Anakin? I'm going to look at your legs so that I can replace the sheets."
His legs.
He was getting used to the decreased sensation, the constant awareness, the burning pain. For all the things he wished would have happened, he knew Buuca was thankful that it wasn't his head, his arms, that were bashed in. Anakin was practiced with a wheelchair. He was used to the decreased movement, though he had tasted the life he once had in the pool and he mourned it being stolen away. He could already guess at the inevitable surgery, the recovery time, and the medications he would be put on. And it could have all been Obi-Wan, which made his stomach clench even more than the nausea he suffered from.
A best-case scenario. Except that it wasn't.
Anakin nodded, pulling the sheet closer around him as Buuca walked around to the foot of the bed where his two casted feet were propped up. The thickly-wrapped tan bandages prevented him from seeing the real damage, and black braces were buckled over his knees, down his shins and up a portion of his thigh to keep the bones from shifting. The old pirate took each leg and carefully positioned them so that Anakin could turn without twisting anything out of place. Then, on his cue, Anakin rolled onto his side, dodging the blasted IV line and heart monitoring electrodes as he did so.
"Well done, my boy," Hondo said, appearing from the doorway. Anakin jumped.
"Don't scare us like that," Buuca said, barely turning around to admonish his brother. "Here, come help us with the sheets."
"What happened?" Hondo crossed the room in three strides, taking in everything, looking for blood. When he found nothing of what he dreaded, he looked back to Anakin. "Causing trouble, my young Jedi friend?"
"Can he not be here?" Anakin mumbled.
Buuca lowered his voice. "Let this go, Hondo, and help without sarcasm for once. We've neglected his bowel program and he needs a change of bedding. It is all our fault in the end. Do what the boy asks."
Hondo dipped his head. "I'll be back."
Anakin shut his eyes as Buuca started to talk again, prepping and finishing the treatment quickly as he tried to distract. He helped Anakin slip on a loose robe that bunched around his elbows. Force, Anakin wished that his body didn't feel so heavy, that the Force he knew he had didn't feel so out of his control. He fleetingly thought how satisfying it would be to let go. But his eyes met Obi-Wan's swollen face and he stifled the idea.
"You may turn back, my boy."
In synchrony with Buuca helping his legs, he was flat on his back, then swaying sitting upright, then sitting in his wheelchair once again, his eye pricking with tears at the slightest change in elevation of his legs. He was helped to the 'fresher in the corner of the hospital wing. Buuca paused at the door, one hand on Anakin's IV pole, the other on the door handle.
"May I?"
Anakin looked down at his hands. "I don't have much of a choice, right?"
Buuca closed the door behind him quietly. "I suppose you don't."
Ahsoka was pulled into the tractor beam of Hondo's saucer, her bartered ship shutting down before she ever entered the dock. She gripped her lightsaber at her hip, pressing herself to the wall of her ship. She took a deep breath, watched the dock materialize over her head, and leapt out of the cockpit.
Before the pirates could gather what happened, she landed, rolled, and ran the rest of the way down the dock. Someone shouted as she turned down a hall. Without hesitation, she ignited her lightsaber. She couldn't be seen.
She had killed for less.
The green glow flashed at her victim's face, her weapon against his neck.
"Commander!"
Ahsoka pulled away, hands trembling.
"Leo," she hushed. "We don't have much time. Where are the others?"
Leo led her down into the holding area, peering ahead before turning corners. He was holding his breath. Ahsoka found it hard to breathe as well.
"Here," he said, pointing toward a cell. "Don't worry, it's not blood, its water."
Ahsoka bent down, touching the puddles before pulling away. She bit back a scream. Her fingers were red.
"Oh Force." Leo put his hand against the cell door. It was empty. He checked the cells around it, fighting to stay calm. "Just a few hours ago, I swear, they were right here. I swear on my life, Commander."
Ahsoka held up her hand. "I believe you. I think there was a fight."
Leo took his gun out of the holster at his side. Ahsoka watched as he held it under his arm, cocked it, and replaced it in a ready stance. He met her eyes, then looked down self consciously.
"Then there's two places they could be."
Anakin watched from his wheelchair as Hondo returned with the sheets. Buuca left to attend to an injured pirate, leaving the two alone. Obi-Wan didn't stir.
"It has been a long time since I made a bed, so hold your tongue and I will do my best, eh?" Hondo said jovially, forcing a smile on his wrinkled face as he stripped the soaked sheets off. "I'm the youngest brother, so I never did chores."
Anakin didn't respond.
"Did you have any siblings, my young Jedi friend?"
Anakin shook his head. "Only child."
"Ah. I pity only children. You don't know trouble. You don't learn how to compromise."
Hondo was baiting him. He wanted to get a rise out of the Jedi. Anakin rubbed his face tiredly, the pain medication stoppering his usual temper. He slumped farther down in his chair as the base of his spine flared, and his vision blackened at the edges in response.
"I never had a father; my mother is dead. I was taken by a group of strangers to strange places to train to become a Jedi. I lost my first master within the week, his Padawan taking over for him out of duty. Then, the second I turn my back I get a prophecy thrown at me telling me I'm supposed to bring order to the galaxy. I lost the Padawan I'm supposed to protect. My I'm sitting with two casted, paralyzed legs as a prisoner of a brigand who is making my bed all wrong. My master took too many hits in my name. I'm sorry, but I know what trouble is."
Hondo threw a sheet at him. "You make the bed."
Anakin didn't have the energy to fight with him. He rolled unsteadily to the bed, angling so his legs were parallel to the railings. Making sure to glare at Hondo, he pushed the white fabric over the gurney-looking cot, smearing it more than laying it neatly. The pirate stood with a hand on his chin, looking much to similar to Obi-Wan when he was criticizing Anakin's handiwork.
"There," Anakin said. "Next sheet?"
Hondo tossed him another, looking impressed.
"You're proving my point, you know. You're so eager to prove yourself that you neglect to realize that the people around you are not so far away as to even your load. Tell me that you want a deal, that I'll take a half of sheet and you take the other. The job will be done better. You won't exhaust yourself. A compromise."
Anakin rolled his eyes. "I can do it without your help."
"Yes. The only child would like to, wouldn't he? On your own you learn how to survive. But you are not just here to survive, as pirates emphasize with their high mortality rate and low average lifespan. You are here for much more than the Jedi's bare existence and needless battles and closed-door meetings."
Anakin squirmed. He pulled his robe tighter around him.
"Marry someone, my young Jedi friend," Hondo continued. "Find a plot of land, start a garden. Work hard, gain back your strength, give yourself time to heal. Forget about your galaxy—they've done nothing to help you, have they? Learn to love the body you've got, and half of that is mourning the one you've lost. You can't do that if you are still waiting for your old life to come back. Take Kenobi with you, I'm sure he'd appreciate a plant or two to parent."
He crossed in front of Anakin, took one side of the sheet, and folded it across the bed. Anakin couldn't meet his eyes.
"I…your brother. Did he get this same speech?" Anakin asked quietly.
"I was never given the chance to say it."
Anakin nodded, wheeling away from the bed. "When the war ends—"
"This war isn't one you can win. You fight your own battles, let the galaxy fight theirs."
"And where's the compromise in that?"
Hondo blinked, then smiled, then outright laughed. "You're a fast learner."
"I've been told that before."
"Then let me teach you one more thing." The brigand slipped out of the room, returning with an armful of metal contraptions that must have been waiting outside the door. "It's a bionic skeleton, Skywalker, before you wonder if after all this time I'm going to torture you. It's what I wanted to give you next week if…if you kept on schedule. The crutches are for your arms, and the braces are worn for support. There are gears and sensors to help with mobility. Let's try it on."
Anakin shook his head. "Not yet. I'm not ready for that yet."
Hondo worked his jaw. "That is your choice."
He started to set down the device, then went ridged. He collapsed.
"What the-?" Anakin jumped, finding the room empty still. He reached for his muddy sensitivity through the Force, hoping to find an explanation.
The explanation found him.
Ahsoka Tano burst through the doors, dirty and feral looking, with Leo at her side. She looked from Anakin, to Hondo, to Anakin, to Obi-Wan.
"We don't have much time, Master," she said hurriedly. "Can you follow me?"
Anakin looked at his IV line and pole, took the string and yanked. He did the same to the electrodes at his chest, peeling each off until the room's monitor's were screaming his apparent death. His head was pounding.
It was her.
He must be dreaming.
Leo took the back of his chair with his hand, using his body to even out his strength. Ahsoka went over to Obi-Wan, looking him over.
"Is he safe to move? What happened to you two?" Leo asked. "I left…and there was so much blood…"
His eyes drifted down Anakin's body. The casts, the braces, the fresh stitches on his chin. The bruises…everywhere.
"He's just asleep," Anakin said, his voice sounding so small next to Leo and Ahsoka's urgency. "I-I don't understand what's going on. How did you find us? Where have you been?"
Ahsoka paused, Obi-Wan half in her arms. "I'll tell you when we get on the ship."
Leo pushed him forward, aiming for the door. Ahsoka heaved Obi-Wan into her arms, balancing his head on her chest. He moaned, but didn't seem to wake. Either way, Anakin's heart fluttered.
"What's this?"
Ahsoka, Leo, and Anakin froze. Buuca stood in the doorway, hands holding two packages of ice, a small container of pain blockers, a large bundle of cloth. He saw his brother on the floor, chest slowly rising and falling.
Silently, he handed the ice, blockers, and package to Anakin, then stooped, tipped Hondo over, and gave him the brace, the crutches.
"Be careful," he said solemnly. Anakin held his eyes for a moment longer, seeing the encouragement he seldom voiced in the wrinkles on his face. Then Buuca stepped aside. "Farewell, Master Skywalker."
Prompted by Ahsoka's nudge, the group ran out the hospital wing.
Ahsoka's pace was intolerable, Anakin's already sensitive head crying out at the flashing lights and rough movements.
"Just slow down." Anakin held out his hands, the motion making him sicker still. "Force, I'm going to be sick."
Leo held his shoulder. "Sorry sir. The dock's just a little farther."
Ahsoka turned sharply, her ship surrounded by pirates nosing about the cabin. There wasn't a good way to get a wheelchair through at all, let alone unseen.
"We need a distraction," she said. "Take Obi-Wan, I'll cause a scene. If I'm not back, leave without me. Get them back to somewhere safe."
"Absolutely not, Commander." Leo let go of Anakin's wheelchair. "I'll do it."
They stared at each other, a silent argument.
Anakin snorted. He swallowed down the burn in his throat, pulled his robe tighter around his waist. Neither of the two were paying attention to him. The ramp they hid beside was the perfect runway.
"No martyrs for me today," he shouted over his shoulder, letting go of his breaks and rolling down the rest of the ramp and out of their hiding spot. The pirates turned away from the ship, looking directly at Anakin. He smirked, reaching for his lightsaber. Finding nothing, he dumped the contents in his lap to the side, took either crutch in his hands, and waved them. "C'mon, you've been waiting to hit the guy in the wheelchair for a few days, right? Now's your kriffing chance."
They charged.
Anakin channeled what he could of the Force, blew back the first round. He could hear Ahsoka yelling for him to get in the ship, could feel the pull of the Force on his wheels. He swung at the second round with the crutches, connecting with a few skulls hard enough to knock the consciousness out of them.
"Get in the ship!" Ahsoka shouted again. Anakin lashed out with the Force, propelling himself toward where Leo stood outside, mouth hanging open. "Master, hurry!"
He looked toward the crates at the walls. He picked up the lot of them, blockading the pirates from the gangplank. He bent over and gathered his discarded supplies. Then, shaking with exhaustion, Anakin rolled to a stop in front of the clone, who grabbed back onto the handles in back. The plank started retracting even as they reached the entrance, slamming the access door behind them.
"That was brilliant, General!" Leo said as Anakin wheezed into his shirtsleeve. His ribs protested the coughing, his eyes watering from the sharp lances coming from his spine.
"Glad you thought so." Anakin let his head fall back, eyes sliding shut on their own accord. "I'm owed an explanation. And a pain blocker."
Ahsoka gave him both.
"We're getting you back to Master Che," she said after she explained what had happened to her and Rex, where Rex was now, and how she found where they were being kept. "You shouldn't have come after me at all."
"Can't let you have all the fun revenge, Snips," Anakin said, downing the blocker dry. Ahsoka looked pale. "I know you too well. You're after Dooku."
"I have to," Ahsoka said quietly.
"Then so do I." Anakin held out a hand, and Ahsoka took it. "I know I haven't given you many reasons to trust me, but I swear on my life that I won't let you go again. No more secrets. No more running away."
Ahsoka laughed wetly. "I promised Rex I…"
"Dooku deserves everything you have planned for him. Just tell me your plan, we'll fight him together."
He'll kill you, she thought. He won't hesitate.
"Then I die at your side. Where I should have been this whole time."
Their coordinates locked in and they made the jump into hyperspace. Obi-Wan started to come around, and Anakin was there with an ice pack.
His heart was buzzing, thinking of how he held his own. He had fought, with or without his legs, and he had seen the fear in their eyes. A small-scale battlefield.
He had won.
"Obi-Wan," he said watching his Master's puffy eyelids as they cracked open just the slightest bit. "You won't believe this, but I just cracked a few pirate skulls for what they did to you."
A ghost of a smile appeared. "That's wonderful, Anakin. I'm sorry I missed all the action."
"You wouldn't have seen it anyway."
Obi-Wan made a painful sound that could have been mistaken for laughter.
"Where are we now, Anakin? I can't quite tell."
He looked at Ahsoka, then Leo. "We're with family."
