It was far too loud in the halls of the Temple. Obi-Wan tried to keep his pain hidden as he walked with Master Windu and Master Plo through the halls to his quarters where he would meet with Anakin and Ahsoka. His head beat a dull sound behind his eyes. Jedi walked past the three Councilors without a second glance.

"Obi-Wan?" Plo's voice was low and careful as he questioned after his friend. The copper-haired Jedi had his eyes tightly closed. And though Plo couldn't see his arms, he knew his friend was gripping his hands to his arms tightly. The three stopped walking and Obi-Wan sucked in deep breaths.

He tried to keep the nausea at bay as the Temple began to swirl around him once more. There were too many sentients in the Temple. He could feel them all pressing down against his shields. He felt them start to crumble under the weight of so many Jedi. The lights were too bright. The talking was far too loud. The Temple rocked and swayed beneath him. He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth and whimpered as he swallowed against the threat of this morning's breakfast making an appearance.

Hands grasped his shoulders and his body was moved carefully out of the way. Every movement sent spikes of pain through his head which triggered the nausea as well. He was breathing heavily by the time he was pressed into a sitting position on the floor. The wall behind his back was cool through his layers of robes and tunics.

"Breathe, Obi-Wan," Mace whispered as he crouched next to his friend. Plo stood a few feet away with his comlink in hand. "It's alright." Mace's soothing tones calmed the dreadful beat inside Obi-Wan's head just a bit.

Obi-Wan groaned and pressed a hand tighter to his mouth whilst his other hand was wrapped around his stomach in a protective manner.

"Don't feel good." Obi-Wan managed to push the words out past his hand as he shook and shivered and tried to hold the vomit back.

"I know," Mace says, rubbing a hand up and down Obi-Wan's back. "Vokara will be here in a moment. She's going to help you."

Obi-Wan shook his head back and forth violently as he finally felt his body rebel against his wishes.

Plo had the foresight to grab a pot that was home to a plant, dump the soil and plant out of the pot, then shove the object into Obi-Wan's hands as the smaller Master retched and expelled the breakfast he had eaten just a while ago.

Obi-Wan's back spasmed and his eyes welled with tears from embarrassment and from the act itself. He coughed and gagged and kept his eyes firmly closed. He vaguely felt someone brushing back his sweaty bangs and another hand on his back. His hands shook around the pot and he moaned against the renewed pain in his head.

"'m sorry." He mumbles as he coughs bile into the pot.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Vokara Che's voice is kind and soft and Obi-Wan wonders when she arrived. "This is perfectly normal."

Obi-Wan's body aches as he coughs once more, before releasing his tight grip on the pot. He draws in shaky breaths through his nose and finally opens his eyes. Everything is slightly blurry, but a few blinks have his vision clearing up enough so he can see the worried faces of Mace, Plo, and Vokara. Behind the Healer, Obi-Wan can see the carelessly discarded remains of soil and a plant. He scrunches his forehead and looks to the pot.

"Poor plant." He mumbles, feeling tired and drained. Plo's soft chuckles fill his ears and Obi-Wan glances up at the Kel Dor Master.

"It had to be done," Plo admits, casting a glance at the upended plant. "We'll get it replanted as soon as we can." He reassures the tired Stewjon Master. Obi-Wan nods his head, though it doesn't obey his command and flops forward instead.

"Mkay," Obi-Wan mumbles as his eyes droop.

"I'm taking you back to the Healing Halls," Vokara informs the man. He doesn't try to argue or assure her that he would be fine in his quarters. She doesn't expect him to. "You're recovering just fine, but we might need to work on your shielding before you can walk around the Temple again."

Obi-Wan hums. He had walked through the halls of the Temple just fine before his meeting with the Council, so why wasn't he able to do it again?

"Because you've overtaxed yourself," Vokara informs him and he scrunches his forehead. "Yes, you did say that out loud." She says with a soft laugh.

"'m tired." He feels the Temple start to fade from his view as darkness starts to take over his body. "Can I sleep?" He asks, not opening his eyes and hoping the answer is verbal and an affirmative.

"Of course you can." A hand brushes through his hair and he hums at the feeling. His head lolls against a robe covered shoulder.

He knows no more.