FOUR
Qui-Gon shifted quickly, supporting Obi-Wan's weight as the younger man sagged limply against him, quite unconscious. Shoving the bag to the floor with a quick sweep of his hand, he gently eased Obi-Wan onto the sleep couch. Initial outward observances produced no clue as to the Padawan's collapse and the only hint Qui-Gon had otherwise had been that brief sense that had washed over him through the bond. It was too brief a touch to render any sort of identification of Kenobi's assailant—if indeed it had been an attack of some sort—and too…what? Qui-Gon couldn't put a finger on it. Too uninterested in him, it almost felt like. As if somehow Obi-Wan had drawn it to himself like a magnet and it couldn't be bothered with anyone else.
Jinn frowned slightly as he watched the slow rise and fall of Obi-Wan's chest as he breathed. If it had been some sort of attack, that kind of focus… A sudden choking sensation rushed over him as the muscles in his throat constricted a little; the thought of such a deliberate attack of that sort was a worrisome thing.
He noted that except for being out cold, there appeared to be little else wrong with the motionless apprentice. With his expression still tucked in a bit of a frown, he reached over and rested the palm of his hand against Obi-Wan's forehead. Closing his eyes, Qui-Gon reached out along their bond and gently probed. His eyes flew open a moment later when he realized there was no response. None at all. Obi-Wan's shields were still down; it wasn't any sort of barrier. It was, quite simply, as if the boy had been switched off like a saber, still and silent and frankly that was not the Obi-Wan Kenobi he knew. It had often been observed by Mace Windu that the ways of the Force were occasionally humorous as well as wise, pairing the quietest, most reserved Master with the most energetic Padawan in the entire Temple.
A brief, chill finger stabbed at his chest as he realized all of this in a single breath, as his quietly sent Padawan? was met by eerie silence. Abruptly he rose, intending to scoop Obi-Wan up into his arms and carry him, all the way to the healers' wing by himself if he had to, by the Force!
But just as Qui-Gon was slipping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him upright, Obi-Wan blinked open his eyes and he looked around, disoriented.
Master? He queried and suddenly the bond came flooding back upon them both, making the older man smile in gratitude and the younger one wince a little.
"It's all right, Obi-Wan." Jinn's voice was, as ever, calming. "You're still in your room." He allowed his apprentice to shift back a little until he was sitting upright against the pillows. "How do you feel?"
"I'm…" Obi-Wan blinked a moment, looking almost as confused as he had just before his collapse. "My head hurts." He finally admitted, reaching up to scrub a hand across his forehead. Force, it ached! Qui-Gon watched him carefully.
"Do you remember what happened?"
"I…was packing for the mission, Master." Obi-Wan answered confidently. "You said we'd have an early start in the morning."
"That's right." Qui-Gon encouraged. "Then…what?"
Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it again as he realized that he really didn't know what had happened.
"I…woke up here." He said slowly.
"You don't remember calling out to me?" Now Qui-Gon was truly concerned. He could only imagine the amount of power his apprentice had come in contact with in order to produce such a pain and memory loss. Obi-Wan frowned heavily in confusion, despite the extra ache it seemed to draw to his forehead.
"No, I…" He paused a moment, as if straining for something just beyond his reach, but like sand through fingers it escaped him, and he finally shook his head a little. "No, Master."
Through the bond, Qui-Gon could sense how depleted Obi-Wan's defenses still were and with his own eyes he could see the slight tremble in the younger man's hand as he reached up to rub again at his forehead. Whatever this had been, it had drained him completely.
"I think we'll pay another visit to Healer Obuk." Jinn said at length, not liking what he was seeing and sensing.
"Oh Master…" This time Obi-Wan did protest, albeit tiredly. "Do we have to go all the way over there? I'm all right, I promise. I just need…" He blinked tired eyes and slid down onto the sleep couch, pulling the pillows down with him and curling around them.
Qui-Gon pressed his lips into a tight line, his only outward sign of displeasure. Truly he wanted to be sure his apprentice was unharmed, and perhaps to discover the source of his distress, however momentary. Before he could say more, however, he was already aware of Obi-Wan sliding off into sleep, his exhausted mind and body demanding it. The Jedi Master drew in a deep, slow breath, allowing himself to push aside his anxieties over his Padawan and find his center. It seemed highly unlikely that anyone should wish to inflict intentional harm on Obi-Wan, but if it should turn out to be more than just an accidental contact, the Force would reveal it to be so.
Still…there was nothing saying their departure from Coruscant could not be rescheduled for a later hour, to allow the healers a look at him, either. So decided, Qui-Gon reached down and brushed back the Padawan's braid from Obi-Wan's face and then rising, picked up the nearby blanket and draped it gently over him.
Rest well, my Padawan.