These are just little random one-shots that I will be doing about the relationship between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. They will be updated as often as I can, and if any wants me to expand on any of them or if you have a prompt for me, just say in the review :)

/words\\ = Bond speak

Please read and review :)

Prompt from Cuneiform: Obi-Wan gets separated from Qui-Gon on a mission and a few days later is dropped off, severely injured and they're not sure if he's going to make it and Qui-Gon is freaking out? I just love hurt/comfort ones stories!

Qui-Gon wasn't entirely sure how they'd gotten into this mess, though he was fairly certain he wasn't to blame. It was probably Mace's fault.

Whoever's fault it was, they were well and truly in trouble. Qui-Gon was sitting back to back with his padawan, their wrists bound so tightly together to an iron ring set in the floor, that he had lost almost all sensation.

It should have been an easy mission; investigate the disturbance in a series of underground, crystal caves on Ryloth and return when it was all sorted. But the 'slight disturbance' had turned out to mean 'secret underground criminal cartel', who were mining the crystals and did not appreciate Jedi's snooping around.

So here they were…. Trussed up with no means of escape, their lightsabres in another area, out of reach. Three men were muttering to themselves, circling as they watched them.

Qui-Gon smirked at their wariness…. They were right to be wary.

Footsteps echoed on hard stones outside and Qui-Gon glanced towards the door, noting the way their guards stood up straighter. Whoever was coming must be important.

A moment later, a tall figure strode through the jagged archway to their miserable prison. A sneer was already plastered across what little of his face wasn't badly scarred. He had an aura of cruelty that Qui-Gon sensed he'd have no trouble using against them.

A threat then… a serious one, considering their defenceless state.

"What is the problem?" the man hissed. His voice had a sibilant quality and seemed to reverberate off the walls, "I told you to stash them somewhere and return at once."

"We was goin' to…" one of the men said hesitantly, "'Cept we was worried they might escape, them being Jedi's and all, so maybe one of us ought to stay and guard 'em?"

Obi-Wan shifted restlessly at Qui-Gon's back, clearly already considering the idea. Qui-Gon could feel where Obi-Wan's blood had seeped in his own sleeve from a cut on the boy's sleeve, but thankfully, it was shallow. However, the padawan had also taken a blaster butt to the head, meaning that he was phasing in and out of consciousness.

"A guard will not be necessary," the scarred man said haughtily.

Qui-Gon fought the urge to smirk at his arrogance…. Jedi were not supposed to find enjoyment in fighting, but it might be enjoyable to wipe the smug look off his face.

"But what if they escape and go fer help?" one of the goons asked timidly.

The leader fixed him with a cold glare, stalking forward until he was standing next to the prisoners.

"I've heard…" he began, eyes meeting Qui-Gon's with cold intelligence, "… that Jedi Masters' are utterly devoted to their students. Is that true?"

No one spoke for a moment, and the man's face hardened. In a motion quicker than Qui-Gon could follow, his hand darted forwards and caught Obi-Wan a ringing blow across the jaw, who yelped and rocked backwards against his Master.

Qui-Gon tried to crane his neck over his shoulder to check on his padawan. The kriffing bastard must have known Obi-Wan had a head injury, for now he smiled cruelly, flexing his hand menacingly.

"I'm still waiting for an answer," he said softly. His hand rose slightly, as if to hit Obi-Wan again.

"Yes, it's true." Qui-Gon blurted out, desperate to stop any further attacks on his padawan.

The man smiled at him, a cruel, predatory thing. "How interesting…. You see men, we will not need to set a guard, because they won't be escaping. That is, not unless the Jedi Master here wants to leave his Padawan behind."

Faster than Qui-Gon could follow, the man's foot shot out and stamped down with all his strength on Obi-Wan's ankle.

The crack of breaking bone nearly drowned out Obi-Wan's agonized gasp, but it wasn't enough to mask Qui-Gon's enraged cry. He struggled against his bonds, straining to find something he could focus on enough with the Force, to throw at the men and his guards. However, he stopped moving when his motions jarred Obi-Wan, drawing a pained sound from the young teen.

The man's cruel smile only grew as Obi-Wan attempted to hunch forward over his broken ankle.

"I really doubt he'll be escaping on that," the man said, feigning concern in a manner that made Qui-Gon's fingers itch to tighten around his throat, "Enjoy your stay."

With that he turned, intentionally brushing against Obi-Wan's leg as he went, drawing another hissed breath of pain.

As soon as his cronies had filed out behind him dutifully, Qui-Gon sighed, trying to twist his head around and look at his padawan, without jarring the injured boy further. However, their arms were bound together from wrists to elbows.

Obi-Wan's breath was coming in sharp pants.

"Obi-Wan."

"I'm fine."

"I heard the crack young one, your ankle is broken."

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

"How bad is it little one?" Qui-Gon asked quietly, concern curling in his belly.

"I-I don't know… I think it's a clean break."

"Is there any chance you could walk on it?"

He knew the answer before Obi-Wan shook his head wearily. "N-no, I don't think so," he muttered, letting his head fall back to rest against Qui-Gon's shoulder. His Master shifted slightly to give him a better angle.

Qui-Gon sighed bitterly, realizing that the leader of the cartel had cleaved through all his burgeoning escape plans in one go by hobbling his padawan. His sigh must have been louder than he thought, as Obi-Wan cautiously spoke up.

"You should go… get some reinforcements."

"… I think we're better off sticking together little one."

Obi-Wan shivered slightly. The caves were bitterly cold, and Qui-Gon didn't doubt that the temperatures would serve to make them lethargic, further complicating any plans to escape… especially with Obi-Wan's wounds.

"My foot's at a really odd angle."

"Try not to think about it too much little one."

"Master… you know you have to escape."

Qui-Gon frowned, despite knowing that Obi-Wan couldn't see it, "We are not discussing this."

"Yes, we are," Obi-Wan insisted, "If you don't go for backup, we'll be killed…. You know this. Whatever reason they kept us alive, it's not a good one."

"I will not leave without you."

"But you have to."

Qui-Gon blinked at the statement…. He would hate it, and the guilt would churn like acid in his gut, but he could leave his padawan behind, hidden somewhere safe, if it freed him to go for reinforcements. It was the cold, logical decision, and Qui-Gon hated himself for being able to make it…. But he could.

"Do you have a way to get free?"

Qui-Gon hesitated for a brief moment, before reaching around with careful fingers until he brushed the back of his belt. Sliding his fingers along the underside, he managed to get himself into a position where he could manipulate the locks inside the cuffs.

His fingers had gone slightly numb from the tight restraints, so it took a fair bit of concentration before the lock finally clicked and the cuffs fell to the ground. From there, it took even less time for him to get Obi-Wan free.

"So, what's the plan Master?" His padawan asked, trying to grin cheekily, but it fell flat in the face of his evident exhaustion.

"This place is built like a warren. The way they brought us in barely looked used, so we'll head out and- "

"- you'll head out."

"I could carry you."

"Not if you wanted to deal with anything or anyone you came across."

Qui-Gon hated to admit it, but his padawan was right. If there was an issue and he needed both hands quickly, Obi-Wan would be a hinderance.

"I can hide away in some forgotten corner and be perfectly safe while you get help!"

"… Fine." Gently Qui-Gon lifted his padawan to his feet, wincing as the young boy bit back a groan at the motion, "Come on, let's find somewhere safe for you."

He easily found a smallish corner for Obi-Wan, gently placing him in it. "Be safe, be silent and don't move until one of us finds you, alright?"

Obi-Wan nodded, wincing at the pain in his head. "May the Force be with you Master."

"And with you little one."

Unfortunately, by the time Qui-Gon returned with reinforcements, it was too late… Obi-Wan was gone.

….

Pain. Indescribable, terrible pain.

That's all there was as he laid on the ground.

He couldn't remember anything of the past few days… he just remembered fear and pain and hurried footsteps followed by panicked voices.

…..

Qui-Gon felt like he was going to pass out.

All he could see was the bloodied form of his padawan as the healers rushed him to the Healers' Wing. Obi-Wan's body was limp and his breath was shaky, almost non-existent.

Qui-Gon gasped as he noticed this, rushing over and grabbing his padawan's hand as they sped to the Healers', "Kriff- Obi-Wan, stay with me little one! Don't do this to me!"

Nothing…. Obi-Wan's breathing remained quiet and shallow.

Once they were in the Healers' wing, the Healers stripped Obi-Wan of his bloodied uniform, dressing him in clean clothes and desperately trying to stabilise him before placing him the bacta tank. When Obi-Wan was in, the Healers turned to Qui-Gon, with the leader shaking their head.

"This will be a long battle for your padawan… one they may not win. I would advise preparing yourself for that."

Qui-Gon simply nodded, keeping his eye focused on Obi-Wan. As soon as the Healer left the room, he fell to his knees in front of the tank, placing one hand on the glass and trying to calm his mind.

Obi-Wan didn't look good. His body was a mass of blood and bruises, with barely any skin peeking through the black and blue wounds.

For almost a week, he slept in front of Obi-Wan's tank, spending all day looking at his padawan's slowly healing body.

Another three days came and passed, and Qui-Gon was starting to pace anxiously in front of the tank.

What was taking so long?

Shouldn't he be better now?

The Healers were becoming less and less hopeful.

Obi-Wan's chances of survival were dwindling.

…..

Another week passed before the Healers felt secure enough to removed Obi-Wan from the tank, placing him in a nearby bed and wrapping up his wounds, which were still quite badly bruised.

Less then three hours later, Obi-Wan stirred weakly. "Master?" he croaked, "What's wrong?"

Qui-Gon practically collapsed into the chair next to his padawan, grabbing the teens hand and clutching it tight.

"I should never have left you…" he whispered, his eyes shut as his stroked Obi-Wan's hand with his thumb, "… I should have carried you, threats be damned."

"… It was my choice Master. It is always my choice."