Chapter Eight

Don't touch a thing
Till you know what's inside it
Don't push me, I'll fight it
Never gonna get it
Never gonna give it up
If you can't catch a wave
Then you're never gonna ride it
You can't come uninvited
Never gonna get it
Never gonna give it up
You can't take me
I'm free
You Can't Take Me (Bryan Adams)

It was years later, before anything worth mentioning occurred again. Anakin and Obi-Wan were on an important mission on a relatively distant planet. Once again, negotiations had gone poorly, though this time through fault of their own. However, as the fight had ensured and progressed, the stinging throb that had rendered one leg useless, and searing ache of an amputated arm, had led Anakin to a very emphatic conclusion, as he glared furiously up at their adversary. They were screwed. So screwed that he didn't even want to think about it. It was humiliating, how hopeless their situation really seemed to be. By the Force, he hadn't wanted his Padawan to be put in a position like this yet!

Count Dooku walked leisurely around him, just out of reach, watching with great pleasure at the light saber wound that had forced the great Anakin Skywalker to kneel before him, and unable to really move without much pain. He was aware that the other boy was getting up, clutching his arm. That wound had been meant to cause him great agony, and cloud the boy's judgment. He sensed that it was doing it's purpose well, but he could also feel the child's eyes on him.

"So weak," the Count sneered. "Just as weak as when Qui-Gon took you as his Padawan, Skywalker. I always knew his compassion would be his downfall," Dooku told him.

Anakin growled, rage coursing through him. Yoda probably would have stopped in the middle of a battle to yell at him over it, had he been there. As it was, he was not, and all Anakin could seem to do was train his eyes away from the nefarious Count Dooku, onto his own protégé. Worry mixed with the anger now. If Dooku harmed one hair on Obi-Wan's head, so help him…!

Dooku smirked and raised his light saber to strike Anakin, possibly decapitate him. Anakin kept his eyes determinedly open, ready to meet death head on. But, just as the hot crystalline blade drew near his neck, it was blocked by Obi-Wan's blue blade. Obi-Wan winced at the pressure the position put on his arm, but he ignored it. Putting as much strength as he could into it, Obi-Wan pushed Dooku's blade back away from Anakin, watching in satisfaction as Dooku stumbled back, a look of irritation on his face.

"He is not worth protecting," Dooku said, regaining his balance. Obi-Wan stared back at him coldly.

"He is my Master," Obi-Wan replied, taking a defensive stance in front of Anakin. "That is reason enough."

Anakin stared up at the small ponytail, on the back of his Padawan's head, in mild shock. Even after all the years, all the comfort sessions, the occasionally frequent times that they'd been in bed together (for one reason or another), the Knight's confidence in his own ability to train and bond with his apprentice was still lagging. (If it was any consolation, the blonde had finally agreed to face the rest of the Temple at regular intervals again.) He opened his mouth to protest somewhat, but closed it again quickly, biting his lips together. What would he do, should Obi-Wan be harmed? What would either of them do?

Before he could make his comment, however, Dooku attacked, trying to get Obi-Wan away from Anakin. He had to say, Obi-Wan had gotten very skilled in the style of Soresu, and right now both he and the Padawan was very thankful for that fact.

Eventually, he did get lured away from Anakin, but he kept Dooku plenty busy, giving him no chance to return to finish what he had started with Anakin. Dooku was getting frustrated, and he could see that plainly. Anakin's worry increased for Obi-Wan, the Sith used their anger for power…he didn't get a chance to call out his warning, when he saw Dooku's hand move.

Obi-Wan was thrown back into the wall of the cavernous room. He let out a cry of pain, as his head smacked into the wall. He slowly fell to the floor, and for a couple of tense moments Dooku watched him, waiting. Obi-Wan struggled to push himself up, and continue this fight to protect his Master, but he only made it a couple of inches off the floor, before his vision swam and darkness claimed him.

Dooku smiled and chuckled, as he turned back to Anakin when he felt Obi-Wan go unconscious. Eyes wide and mouth agape in horror, Anakin shook his head helplessly a few times. He couldn't lose Obi-Wan…not him too… It took him a short moment to pull himself together enough to be able to guard his mind and gaze, and turn back to Dooku again. Pulling himself painfully to his feet, he favored his injured leg, and adjusted his light saber's grip in his good hand. Obi-Wan had defended him, he told himself with grim determination. It was time to return the favor. Dooku looked him over critically and smirked. It was an action that Anakin was beginning to hate very greatly, and take personal offense to.

"You cannot defeat me as you are, Skywalker," the Count chided.

"Probably not," Anakin agreed, frowning and trying desperately to keep his balance. "I can damn well try, though." And he planned to.

Dooku's smirk deepened, and he attacked. The fight was unfair, to say the least, with Anakin missing one harm and sporting a wounded leg. But, miracles did seem to follow him…perhaps they should have called him 'The Miracle One', instead…

Just before Dooku had the chance to kill his exhausted opponent, a new energy spiked in the Force, and Anakin was very tempted to look to see if it was true. But, he didn't have to, for Dooku made it quite clear.

"Ah, Yoda, have you come to die as well?" He questioned pleasantly.

"Come to die, I have not, my old Padawan," Yoda informed him serenely, looking of the objectionable states of Anakin and Obi-wan, as the former collapsed in exhaustion again. "Save these two, I will." He jabbed his gimer stick in the Master-Padawan team's direction, as Anakin tried vainly to stay conscious and tend to his severed arm at the same time.

During the fight of Yoda and Dooku, the idea of throwing things became a most popular one. Anakin's vision finally cleared enough to allow him to make it over to Obi-Wan, and at least attempt to protect him from any flying debris. Dooku knew he could not win this fight against the old Master, so he purposefully hurled an object too big for Anakin to catch, in his weakened state. While the object distracted Yoda, Dooku escaped.

Cursing painfully, Anakin glared after Qui-Gon's former Master, before passing out as well. Yoda hobbled over to them and shook his head sadly, before pulling out his comlink. Backup would help immensely for getting these two back to the Temple.

Back at the Jedi Temple

When Anakin awoke, he found himself in the Healer Wing. His first thought consisted of how bright it was, but then…Obi-Wan! He heard a slight chuckle from his right, and turned his head to see his Padawan sitting in the chair beside his bed.

"Hello, Master," Obi-Wan greeted him. He had been awake for scarcely a few hours now, but he'd immediately insisted on being brought to his Master's side. The only reason he was allowed this request was because Bant had become the Padawan to a Healer, and was now watching over him personally. His head had been wrapped, while he was unconscious. Bant had informed him that he had a rather nasty cut on the back of it.

"Hi," Anakin returned dryly, glancing down at his arm with much trepidation, to examine the full extent of the damage. It actually wasn't half as bad as he'd expected. The Healers had replaced it while he'd been unconscious; so it wasn't like he looked down to find nothing. The gleaming metal fingers twitched reflexively, as he pushed himself up on his good arm, slightly. "Dare I ask what you find so amusing, my young Padawan?"

"Just your first thought after waking up, Master. It is rather bright in here, isn't it?" Obi-Wan teased him.

"Fairly," the Knight confirmed, squinting slightly and raising the durasteel replacement limb up to his line of vision, to scrutinize it more carefully. The black cabling was a harsh contrast to the shiny metal. The Healers hadn't bothered to cover it with anything, and the prosthetic was obviously false. It was heavy, too, but that was the least of his worries. Concern in his eyes, he turned to look at his Padawan carefully. "How're you doing?" Dooku had literally tossed them both around, quite a bit.

"I'm fine, Master. Bant told me, when I woke up, it's just a minor concussion," Obi-Wan answered. "My vision is a bit fuzzy, but she said that was only an effect." He didn't mention that things were also slightly dim. He just figured that was part of the fuzziness that went along with the concussion.

"Concussion?" Anakin's eyebrows shot up, as he forced himself to sit up fully. His injured leg protested, but he refused to wince over it…again. He could feel where the fake flesh was knitting to his natural skin, to help the burns and cuts heal faster. "You're sure you're alright?"

"Of course, Master. It's only a minor one, more confusion than anything. But, thank you for your concern," Obi-Wan told him, nodding slowly.

"I have to worry about you," Anakin informed him, a bit more brightly than he actually felt. "If I'm worrying about you, I don't have time to worry about myself."

Obi-Wan laughed, it sounded clear and light, like the tinkling of a bell. When he finally stopped, his eyes seemed brighter than they had before, and there was a smile playing on his lips.

"Alright, we'll make a deal, Master. You worry about me, and I'll worry about you. That way, we'll both have someone worrying about us."

"It's better if you don't." Anakin considered saying, but he resisted the urge, smiling slightly instead. "If you insist on it," he agreed with an overly dramatized sigh.

Obi-Wan chuckled again, but he stopped when the door opened, and Bant came in. She smiled at them both.

"Good to see you awake, Knight Skywalker," she said, checking over his wounds. "Obi-Wan, you need to head back to your room now. You still need to rest."

"But, I…" He quickly trailed off at the looks he received from both Bant and Anakin.

"Go," Anakin instructed pointedly. "I'll make it an order, if you won't listen to her, Padawan."

Obi-Wan sighed and nodded. "All right, but you must promise me to rest too, Master. You went through much more than I did," he told him, standing. Neither Anakin nor Bant missed how he swayed slightly, but neither commented on it.

"I really don't have much of a choice in the matter," the Knight pointed out lightly. He couldn't exactly stand, and it would take much physical therapy to get used to the balance shift that came with his durasteel arm, let alone getting the Force to move through the damned thing. "Go," he repeated, making a shooing motion toward the door. Obi-Wan gave him another smile, before turning and leaving.

"He was very worried about you, Knight Skywalker. Your name was the first thing to come out of his mouth, when he woke up," Bant told him as she finished his check up, by recording the information on a datapad.

"He shouldn't worry so much…" Anakin grumbled, allowing himself to lie back down again, once Obi-Wan was out of the room. "Doesn't he know it's my job to worry about him?"

"Well, of course, but it's each Padawan's job to worry for their Master. I know I worry about mine, and she's a Healer!" Bant replied, laughing.

"Right…" Anakin sighed with a nod, slumping down further into the bed. "Right. I just…wish he wouldn't…" But, then the Force only knew how much he'd worried about Qui-Gon, when he'd gotten injured. But…Qui-Gon had been more than a Master. He'd been his boyfriend. Wasn't it different?

"Get some more rest, Knight Skywalker, you should be able to be discharged within the next day or two." Bant started to leave the room, but Anakin cut her off sharply.

"Padawan Erin," he barked after her, a bit more irritation than he'd intended creeping into his tone. "Turn down the lights, won't you?" He was going to go blind, at this rate.

Bant laughed softly, and dimmed the lights.

Obi-Wan had been allowed to leave the Healer wing a day before Anakin, but he chose to stay in his Master's room, just to put his mind at ease that the older man was really okay. They had been permitted to come back to their quarters the night before, and it was now after waking up that Anakin felt confusion and slight fear coming across the bond he and Obi-Wan shared.

Pulling himself out of bed, he limped across the small space, into Obi-Wan's adjacent room. When he reached the bed, it was obviously what the problem was, but he still asked, to confirm his suspicions.

"Padawan?"

"Master…w-why can't I see you?" Obi-Wan almost whispered.

"I'm sure it's just some sort of…temporary side effect," Anakin murmured, pressing his flesh hand to Obi-Wan's cheek reassuringly. His knowledge of the healing arts was mediocre, at best, but…he had to find some way to calm Obi-Wan down…right?

Obi-Wan swallowed, he trusted Anakin more than anyone. So, he had to believe what he said, right? He did…but that really didn't help the panic he was feeling from waking up, only to open his eyes and see…nothing. One of his hands sought out Anakin's flesh one. Awkwardly, Anakin sat down on the edge of the bed, and moved his hand to meet Obi-Wan's.

"You'll be fine," he murmured, only half believing it himself. "Just fine."

"Okay…" Obi-Wan nodded. He would be fine…because Anakin said so.

Later, at the Healers'

"A temporary side effect, from the concussion," the Healer confirmed Anakin's diagnosis, as she examined Obi-Wan's eyes and wound his head. "You may experience some headaches, and maybe even small bouts of amnesia."

"Amnesia?" Anakin echoed, from where he was leaning against a nearby wall. This concussion thing was going to be a real pain, wasn't it? "But, he'll be fine…right?"

"Of course, this was only a minor concussion. If it had been a major one, he would either be unconscious still, or dead, now," she told them bluntly. Obi-Wan's sightless eyes widened. He could have died, if Dooku had pushed him just a bit harder…

"Would you quit scaring him?" The blonde Knight growled, pushing himself off the wall, to limp over to Obi-Wan's side. He laid a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. The contact would help, he knew. His gaze was cool, as it landed on the Healer, though. He had no patience for doctors, less than he had for politicians, anyway.

"I'm sorry, but it's the truth," the Healer replied. She stood and opened the door for them. "You are free to go, now. I will report this to the Council." With that, she left them.

"Come on," the elder murmured, helping his protégé to his feet, and steering him toward the door. "No doubt we'll be called by the Council, later." His already non-existent patience was wearing thinner by the second.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan agreed, quietly following the gentle pressure of Anakin's hand on his shoulder, so as to not run into anything.

Anakin had, thus far, taken extra care not to touch his apprentice with his new durasteel hand. By heart, Anakin was a mechanic. He'd always felt comfortable around machines. He was not, however, convinced that Obi-Wan would feel as such. He didn't want to scare his already jumpy Padawan off, after all… He'd get a glove for the damn thing soon, but for now…being careful would have to do.

Later, with the Council

"Troubling, this news is, young Kenobi," Yoda declared.

"The Healer assured me that it's only temporary," he answered, turning his head in the direction of Yoda's voice.

"What do you intend to do in the mean time, Knight Skywalker?" Ki-Adi-Mundi wondered, while Anakin could feel Adi Gallia and Mace Windu burning holes in him with their eyes.

"Put his training on hold, until he's recovered, Master," the blonde responded calmly, though loath to admit that this was the only option he'd thought of thus far.

Yoda shook his head, and focused his wise eyes on Anakin.

"Continue his training, you must, young Skywalker. Sharpen his other senses this will. Do this, you must." His voice spoke volumes, and told both Obi-Wan and Anakin that this meeting was finished. Obi-Wan bowed and waited for him to leave, so that he could follow.

Anakin tossed a look at Yoda that, had it been directed at anyone else, would have been absolutely furious.

"Yes, Master," he bit off, turning and moving slowly down the staircase, so that Obi-Wan wouldn't fall behind him.

"Well, that was…unhelpful…" Obi-Wan said, as they walked.

"Unhelpful," Anakin snorted darkly, his temper getting the better of his discipline. "Unhelpful my ass. If I have to take you offworld, I'll make sure you get the recovery time you need."

"Whatever you say, Master," Obi-Wan told him, as he felt the wall for the keypad and pressed in the code that would open his door, once his finger found it. Obi-Wan stopped between the kitchen and common room. He bit his lower lip, and then turned his head back towards Anakin. "Now would be the point where I offered to cook us something…but I'm not sure that's the best idea…"

Shaking his head in amusement, Anakin nudged him toward the common room, almost teasingly.

"Go," he instructed simply. "I won't poison you."

Obi-Wan looked like he was going to protest, but then he shook his head against it. He used the Force to guide himself around the tables and such, before sitting on the couch. He found the buttons on the holocom, and pressed one that he knew, by now, even if he'd had his sight, would play some music. Not the kind that they played in the slums' clubs, but soft and relaxing melodies.

After some bewildered puttering around the kitchen, Anakin stared helplessly at the mess he'd created, before throwing the meal away.

"I'm going to go get take-out," he informed Obi-Wan flatly, already heading to grab his cloak and exit the apartment. "Just…stay put."

Obi-Wan laughed softly, after he had heard Anakin leave. Why hadn't he seen that coming?

Dex's Diner

"Ah, young Skywalker! How have you been?" Dexter called, when he saw him enter through the door.

"Oh…peachy…" Anakin managed to summon up a smile for his friend. His Padawan was blind, might have amnesia, and was scared out of his mind, as far as Anakin could tell. He himself was missing an arm, could barely walk, and had very nearly killed them both, via trying to cook. "Life's never been better." He resisted the urge to sneer.

"Good, good! Where's that youngster that's always tagging with you? What can I get ya, tadpole?" Dex listed off pleasantly.

"Usual." Anakin shrugged, relieving some of the strain on his leg by sitting gingery down on a stool. "Obi-Wan's…not feeling too great right now. Rough mission, could have been…successful."

"Sorry to hear that; send him my best wishes," Dex requested, placing the order.

"Can do." The blonde nodded, shifting his sleeve slightly, to hide more of his replacement arm. He wasn't ashamed of it, by any means, but he also wasn't one to flaunt his unwanted accessories, such as they were.

When Anakin returned, Obi-Wan almost jumped to his feet, and was very tempted to run and hug him. The apartment was very cold and lonely; especially in the darkness he was experiencing. Somehow, he managed to keep a calm face, and just turned to give Anakin a grateful, pleased, smile.

"Welcome home, Master."

"Hey," Anakin greeted him, making his way over and plopping the food bags down onto the coffee table, pulling Obi-Wan's food out, and handing it to him. "Got your favorite."

"Thank you, Master." Obi-Wan's smile grew, as he took the food and utensils that went with it. As with most meals, they ate in silent and then just listened to the music. It was something they had discovered in the second year of Obi-Wan's apprenticeship that they both liked.

"You haven't gotten any amnesia, have you?" Anakin wondered finally, staring down into his drink anxiously.

Obi-Wan's eyebrows knitted together, as he thought.

"Not yet, Master. Things are mainly just fuzzy, but that was also how my eyesight was, two days ago. I suppose that means nothing," he replied to the inquiry.

"Right…" Glancing up, the blonde searched Obi-Wan's unfocused eyes, glad that his companion couldn't see the concern in his own.

Obi-Wan propped his chin into his palm, as he leaned into the side of the couch, and looked in Anakin's direction.

"Tell me about Master Jinn again." He had this request when he was scared, usually after his nightmares. These stories had almost become bedtime faerie tales.

"What do you want to hear about him today?" Anakin wondered absently, looking away again, sinking down into the couch cushions himself.

"Umm…when he came to Tatooine, and discovered you," Obi-Wan answered, after a moment.

Anakin blinked, honestly surprised by the request. Eventually, he nodded unnecessarily in agreement.

"He was training the Padawan he had before me, when he showed up," Ani murmured, trying to recall the experience in detail. He hadn't gone into his own personal history with Obi-Wan, in all the time he'd known him. "My mother and I…were slaves there. Our owner ran a junk shop, and Qui-Gon's ship had broken down. They were looking for a rare part, and he was the only one who had it. I was, at the time, competing in the Podraces. Working in the shop too. They didn't have any real money to buy the part with, so I wanted to help. I raced, won the money for it, and Qui-Gon somehow got me freed. I don't know how. Not my mother, though…I didn't see her again, after that. His Padawan, Xanatos, turned to the dark side, not long after, and left the order. That was why the Council let Qui-Gon train me." Because of Qui-Gon's insistence that he was the Chosen one, he'd assumed.

Obi-Wan made a soft little 'mmm' noise, his head going to lie on his folded arms, and his eyes closed. He always fell asleep listening to his stories about Qui-Gon. Anakin didn't seem to mind telling them so much, anymore… He would probably remember to ask more about Anakin's mother, later. He didn't remember much about his own…

Smiling slightly, Anakin shifted the boy's position gently, with the Force, and covered him with a blanket.

"I wish you'd gotten to know him better," he murmured softly, so as to not disturb his slumber. Having finished, he crawled off of the couch, and dimmed the lights to half power. "You'd have loved him too."