Author's Note: I apologize for the delay in getting this chapter up. I most definitely have not abandoned the project. A few days after I published the last chapter, my mother suddenly passed away. It's been a difficult month as we were very close, and so it took me a while to get back into the groove of writing. I'm slowly getting my mojo back, and so here we go.

However, this has given me time to read Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth, and Siege. That's given me some great insights into how the incident on Zigoola impacted Obi-Wan long-term and gave me some great ideas for this story and a direction to take it! And so, you all get to read the fruits of my Star Wars obsession.

"Injured in the battle you and your Padawan were not?"

Anakin met the holographic eyes of Master Yoda in the projector and shook his head. "No, Master. We're fine." He shifted his position and glanced briefly at Ahsoka with a raised brow. She nodded slightly in agreement.

"Yes, we are both fine, Master Yoda," she replied. "Master Skywalker and I were not taken to the Kadavo mines, so we were spared all that Master Kenobi went through."

"And Obi-Wan's condition is critical enough that you all feel he would be better off here in the Halls?" Master Windu asked.

Both Ahsoka and Siri looked to Anakin for his assessment. He and Obi-Wan had never severed their training bond as Master and Padawan, and of all of them he had the best sense of Obi-Wan's condition —physical and mental. He closed his eyes and stretched out through the force to his friend. Brow furrowed, he pushed past other occupants of the ship to...

There.

He found Obi-Wan's familiar golden glow in the Force, a little dimmer under the strain of illness and injury. Gently he brushed against his Master's mind and got no response. Definitely sleeping. Even so, under the familiar current of Obi-Wan's sleep, Anakin could feel pain, exhaustion... and guilt. Sighing, he released the connection and looked up to answer Master Windu.

"I don't feel his condition is critical... yet," Anakin said. "But I do feel like he is struggling with something that happened on Kadavo and that is hampering his recovery." Anakin held up his hands in bafflement. "This is far from the first time I've seen Obi-Wan sick or injured. However, this is the only time I've seen him have a difficult time bouncing back from it."

"Still affected by his ordeal on Zigoola, Obi-Wan is," Yoda mused. "Possible that causes problems for him, it is."

A surge of resentment rushed through Anakin, and he struggled to tamp it down. Obi-Wan, Yoda, and Bail Organa had all flatly refused to tell him what had happened on Zigoola, and why those events continued to affect Obi-Wan. Though his Master did his best to disguise it, Anakin knew he had been plagued by headaches of varying intensity since the mission. Once, when sharing a tent on a battlefield, he had caught sight of scars on Obi-Wan's leg that he knew had not been there as Anakin grew up. Before he had been able to ask about them, Obi-Wan had quickly pulled on clean pants and shot Anakin a look that the former Padawan knew was a clear warning not to ask. And finally, those same few days they had shared a tent, Obi-Wan had woken up in the night sweating and panicked. Anakin had recognized it as a nightmare—he had enough of those of his own to know. But when he had asked Obi-Wan if he was okay, the older man had, predictably, stated he was fine and rolled over dismissively on his cot.

Zigoola, and whatever happened there, clearly had an impact on Obi-Wan.

The not knowing was a sore spot for Anakin, and in this instance left not only him at a disadvantage to help Obi-Wan, but Siri and Ahsoka as well. He lifted his chin defiantly. "Since I don't know what happened to him on Zigoola, I couldn't say."

Siri stepped forward, cutting him off before he could continue. Anakin suspected she was attempting to diffuse his temper before it could erupt. "If that is part of the issue, it would be best to get him back to Coruscant," she pointed out. "Master Che would be better equipped to help him than Kix would."

"He might also be more willing to... listen to Master Che," Ahsoka added, biting back a grin.

"He hasn't been uncooperative," Anakin hastily added. "He just..."

"You know Obi-Wan," Siri finished, amusement twitching her lips.

Anakin could swear he saw a flash of mirth in Master Windu's eyes. "Indeed we do."

"And you, young Siri," Yoda went on. "Prepared to bring Master Kenobi to the temple you are?"

Anakin could feel the briefest of hesitations in her, and swore he saw an unspoken conversation pass between Siri and Yoda.

"I am, Master," she said aloud. Again she paused, and shifted her stance. "The 501st's medic has agreed to supply me with the necessary medical supplies Obi-Wan will need, and ensure I know how to use them. That, in addition to the basic medical training I've had, should get Obi-Wan to Master Che largely in one piece."

Yoda studied Siri for a moment, as though the ancient Jedi Master was waiting for her to say something else. For her part, Siri met his gaze unflinchingly, her demeanor impassive. Finally Yoda nodded slowly. "Bring Obi-Wan to Coruscant, you will. Waiting for you, Master Che will be." He then turned to Anakin and Ahsoka. "Settle the Togruta on their new home, the two of you will."

Anakin, Ahsoka, and Siri all bowed respectfully. "Yes, Master," Anakin replied.

"And thank you," Siri added emphatically.

"May the Force be with you," Master Windu said, and they winked out.

"What was that all about?" Anakin asked Siri once the three of them were alone.

"What was what?" She appeared relaxed, but her eyes didn't quite meet his.

"Whatever that was that passed between you and Master Yoda."

She paused, gazing down the hall in the direction of the room where Obi-Wan slept. Siri turned back to him and smiled. "It was nothing to worry about."

Anakin studied her. "Look," he said, "I'm about to put my injured master in a shuttle with you alone for at least two days. If there's a problem—"

"Obviously she's been alone with him before, Skyguy," Ahsoka interjected. Both Anakin and Siri shot her a steely look and the Padawan grinned sheepishly. "I'm just going to stand over here quietly, and wait for instructions."

"That would be a first," Anakin muttered, but he then looked pointedly at Siri.

She sighed. "Truly, it's nothing. It's a long-ago lesson and discussion Master Yoda had with both Obi-Wan and me. It doesn't have anything to do with now."

He sensed conflict within her, Siri's internal struggle. Just as he was about to respond, she sighed.

"I assure you, Anakin: I will not let anything happen to Obi-Wan."

That, he could feel, was sincere. At once Anakin had a feeling he knew what the silent exchange between Siri and Yoda had been about.

After all, hadn't he been on the receiving end of his own share of Yoda's lectures about attachments and caring too much?

He softened, smiling at her. "Alright," he said, "let's go wake him up and drag him down to the hangar."

An hour later, Kix had stocked Siri's shuttle and gone over with her exactly what she would need to do for Obi-Wan until they reached the temple and the Halls of Healing. She had listened intently and felt she understood what she would need to do. And, if it came down to it, both Kix and Master Che could be accessed via video comm.

While she was certainly nervous, she felt reasonably confident she could get Obi-Wan to Coruscant alive.

Cautiously, she and Anakin slipped into her quarters and found Obi-Wan dozing with a datapad still clutched in his fingers. Anakin rolled his eyes and took it from him, shaking his head when he looked at the display. "Who gave him access to mission reports?" he muttered under his breath. "I swear he would keep going even if someone cut off his leg."

"Qui-Gon was the same way," Siri said, lips twitching with amusement. "Like Master, like Padawan."

"Hey!" Anakin said defensively.

"She's not wrong," Obi-Wan said drowsily, pushing himself into a sitting position. Blearily, he looked around the room. "You two are rather noisy."

"You needed to wake up anyway," Anakin said.

Obi-Wan frowned. "Hasn't everyone been telling me to rest?"

Siri smiled, sat on the edge of the bed, and eased the blanket off him. "We're going to my shuttle," she said. "There's a relatively comfortable bed where you can rest while I take you to Master Che."

He rubbed his hand over his face and dropped his bare feet off the side of the bed to the floor. "At this point, I should probably ask her to assign me a permanent room in the Halls."

With Siri on one side and Anakin on the other, the three of them made their way through the ship to the hangar. Thoughtfully, Ahsoka had requested the men clear the path so the Jedi Master could preserve at least some of his dignity. They supported most of his weight, and managed to reach the shuttle in short order. There they found Ahsoka helpfully completing the pre-flight checks while Cody and Kix reviewed the supplies. Siri and Anakin assisted Obi-Wan into the small ship and back into the utilitarian sleeping area. He was wheezing holding his arm across his ribs as he collapsed onto the narrow bunk.

Kix sat on the edge of the mattress, brows furrowed as he took the Jedi's vitals. "If his wheezing gets any worse before you hit Coruscant," he said to Siri, "give him two hits on that inhaler I showed you. It'll relax his lungs somewhat and make things easier."

Folding her arms over her chest, she leaned against the bulkhead and nodded. "I remember."

Once Obi-Wan was settled, Kix clapped him gently on the shoulder. "Take care, General," he said as he stood and squeezed past Siri to assist Ahsoka in the front of the ship with pre-flight preparations.

Anakin took the opportunity to sit on the edge of the bunk. Siri raised a brow when he pointed a finger sternly at his former master. "Don't die," he said, and then jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the cockpit. "Snips would be so upset."

Obi-Wan slowly blew out a breath. "I will do my best," he managed.

"Seriously, Master," Anakin took Obi-Wan's hand in his own and squeezed it. "Hang in there until you get to Master Che. Don't deny her a chance to patch you up again." All amusement faded from his expression. "Don't leave me, Obi-Wan."

The older man scrubbed a hand over his face. "You always act as though I have one foot in the grave, Anakin."

Siri stepped forward and squeezed Anakin's shoulder reassuringly. "I'll deliver him to Master Che in more or less one piece," she said softly.

Anakin stood and faced her. "You promise?"

She raised a brow and met his gaze. "The Jedi don't make promises they cannot guarantee, Anakin." Siri held up a hand to silence him when he started to speak. "What I can promise you is nothing will happen to him so long as I have any say in the matter." She glanced past him and this time caught Obi-Wan's eye. "I will do everything in my power to keep him safe. I promise."

The lights pouring in through the windows of his bedroom in the Jedi Temple were beautiful. But they kept him awake all night. Anakin was used to Tatooine, where the nights were cold and dark. He could close his eyes here in his warm, cozy bed in the temple and imagine the sound of the desert winds whipping around his home in Mos Espa. But it never quite drowned out the faint sounds of airspeeders and bikes outside of his window here.

Sighing, he slid out of his bed, pulled the blanket around his shoulders, and padded over to the window. His stomach hurt, and it had nothing to do with the enormous dinner he had eaten with Obi-Wan and Bant earlier in the dining hall. He would begin formal classes tomorrow with other younglings and Padawan—children his own age he had never met.

These kids had grown up in the Temple. Most of them had been babies when they had been brought into the order. Curious, he had asked Obi-Wan a few days ago how old he had been when the Order had taken him in. His Master had been three—six whole years younger than Anakin was now.

"He is too old."

He scowled, resentful, as he remembered the dark face of Master Windu dismissing him as untrainable. Anakin had felt all of his hopes of becoming a Jedi Knight drain from him. His life had been so uncertain when they had left Coruscant to fly to Naboo, and deep down he was sure Master Qui-Gon was going to drop him off in the middle of Mos Espa on the way back.

But now Master Qui-Gon was gone, his body cremated, and ashes spread like the sands on Tatooine in a sandstorm.

And Anakin had a new Master, one he barely knew and was reasonably sure had wanted to leave him on Tatooine in the first place.

Despite their rocky start, Obi-Wan had been kind to him. Anakin could sense his deep sadness over the loss of Qui-Gon, but he did his best to put up a good front and prepare him for what was to come in his training.

Unfortunately, that meant classroom training. Anakin had never been in a classroom in his life. His mother had tutored him at home when she could, and he knew how to read and do basic math. But this, he knew, would be different. It would be completely new. And he was certainhe was unprepared.

He heaved a sigh, and a wave of intense longing for his mother washed over him. Anakin turned from the window and started to go back to his bed but paused in the middle of the room. He hesitated a few moments, indecisive, before he pulled the blanket tighter around him and padded out the door and down the short hall.

The door to Obi-Wan's room slid open with a soft woosh, and Anakin peered inside. He hesitated when he caught sight of his Master on the bed, curled on his side under the blankets and peacefully sleeping. Anakin bit his lip and stopped short. The only time he ever saw Obi-Wan so relaxed was when he slept, and he never seemed to do that enough. He thought for a second about turning back around to go back to his own room, but eventually stepped into the room and over to the bed.

"Master Obi-Wan?"

His Master grunted softly and frowned, pulling the blankets tighter.

Anakin tapped his bare shoulder. "Master Obi-Wan?"

Another grunt, punctuated by a soft, unintelligible murmur.

Gathering his courage, Anakin shook him. "Master Obi-Wan!"

His Master snapped awake and looked wildly around the room before his blue eyes rested blearily on his young charge. "Anakin?" He rubbed his hand over his face and then looked briefly over at the chrono by his bed. "It's three in the morning. What's wrong?"

Anakin shifted his weight back and forth from one foot to the other. "Do you think you could just do my school lessons here in our quarters tomorrow instead of me going to classes? I'll listen and do what you ask, I promise."

Obi-Wan sighed and dropped his head into his pillow. "Anakin, we have been over this," he replied gently. He met the young child's gaze, eyes full of sympathy despite the situation. "Are you still nervous?"

Anakin nodded. "What if Master Windu is right and I am too old?"

Obi-Wan sat up and pulled his own blanket around his bare shoulders, folding his pajama-clad legs into a crisscross in the middle of the bed. Anakin fought a grin at the sight of his hair, sticking up in an awkward stage of growing out his Padawan haircut. "So you're saying Master Qui-Gon was wrong?"

"Well, no," Anakin mumbled.

"Anakin..." Obi-Wan trailed off on a sigh. He paused, eyes fixed on him. "Do you know, there is not one person who will be in your classes tomorrow who has participated in a full-scale star fighter battle in a war and come out on top—except you."

He lifted his chin. "Yeah?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan said with a smile. "They have had more book training, but you are far advanced of them in other areas. Qui-Gon believed in you, Anakin." His smile widened. "And so do I."

Anakin returned the smile. "Thanks, Master."

"Now," Obi-Wan continued, "go back to bed so you do not fall asleep at your desk in the morning."

Anakin hesitated. "Master? Can I sleep...here?" He pointed to the floor.

Obi-Wan raised a brow. "Again?"

The boy nodded.

Sighing, his Master waved a hand at the floor. "Be my guest," he said, and tossed a spare blanket to Anakin.

In moments, Anakin had made himself a makeshift pallet and settled under his blanket. He smiled to himself as the reassuring sound of Obi-Wan's soft snores filled the room a moment later.

"Goodnight, Master," he whispered, and within moments had dropped off himself.

Anakin stood in the hangar of the Resolute and watched as Siri's ship slid out into space. The memory of that night years before was as fresh in his mind as if it had happened just yesterday. Then again, how many nights had he found his way to the floor by Obi-Wan's bed as a child?

In such a short period of time, Anakin had lost both his mother and Qui-Gon. He had been thrust into Obi-Wan's care so suddenly, and the child had been sure his Master would drop him the first chance he had.

Obi-Wan had been scarcely older than Anakin was now, lost his Master, and been thrust into a caregiver role for a child he barely knew in such a short period of time. But he had never been anything short of patient with Anakin in those early days, as though he felt the boy's hesitation and anxiousness.

And now he was on his way back to Coruscant, sick and injured, and Anakin was not going with him to help.

"He'll be okay, Master."

Anakin looked down at Ahsoka, standing next to him with her own gaze watching the space craft as it prepared to make the jump to hyperspace. He nodded, returning his attention back to the ship. A heavy sigh blew out as Siri's small craft cleared the system.

"Master Siri will take good care of him," Ahsoka continued, planting her hands on her hips thoughtfully. "She seems to genuinely care about him."

"I know she does," he replied. "I just hate that I can't be the one to help him."

"You're needed here," she pointed out. "As much as you might like to be, you can't be everywhere at once. Siri is a brilliant Jedi and Shadow, but she's not a military general. We need you to help get my people settled in their new home."

Anakin dragged his hand through his hair. "I know, Snips. I wish it hadn't come to this—that Obi-Wan had recovered more quickly and hadn't needed to go back to Coruscant."

Ahsoka offered a wry smile. "That he hadn't been too stubborn to let us throw him in a bacta tank?" Her smile widened as he laughed. "There's one thing I don't understand," she went on. "Master Obi-Wan is just that—a Master. He should be able to heal himself and get past this." She shifted her weight and pursed her lips. "Master Yoda mentioned he is affected by something called Zigoola. What was he talking about?"

Anakin scowled and pushed down a fresh wave of resentment "I wish I knew," he said flatly. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "A couple years ago—right around the time we... misplaced Artoo," he said, flashing a sheepish grin, "Obi-Wan went on a covert mission with Bail Organa to someplace called Zigoola." He stared at the floor and planted his own hands on his hips in a near mirror of his Padawan. "I don't know what happened there. Obi-Wan, the Senator, and Master Yoda have all refused to discuss it. But... something changed in him after that."

"How so?"

"For starters, he has a huge scar on his leg that he didn't have before." Anakin shrugged. "He has battled near constant headaches—that he thinks I don't notice. His connection to the Force is more sensitive—in both directions, the light and the dark." Anakin turned and began walking back towards the exit of the hangar and into the main part of the ship. "He is more susceptible to illnesses and injuries, more prone to battle fatigue and Force exhaustion." He paused, thinking about his seemingly indestructible Master before the incident. "I guess in some ways it aged him."

"Do you think Master Yoda is right?" Ahsoka asked. "That it is holding him back from recovering?"

"I dunno, Snips," he said, his blue eyes troubled as they strode into the command center. "But I'm afraid it might be."