Author's Note: I was really dissatisfied with the way Escape from Kadavo ended in The Clone Wars. I felt like after all Obi-Wan had been through, casually strolling across the hangar with the others was just… not realistic. I also enjoy a good old hurt/comfort fic. And so, this is my slight-AU coda to Kadavo.
(Also, Siri Tachi is one of my favorites, so I threw her into the mix for my own amusement.)
Many, many thanks to my dear friend Bebedora for serving as beta, letting me bounce ideas off, and sending me to the corner when feverish Obi-Wan talks like Master Yoda. I love ya, lady!
Finally, I have not written regularly in AGES, so be gentle as I work out the rust.
Disclaimer: This is all owned by LucasArts and Disney – I own nothing.
Part One
Most would not have noticed the small hitch in Obi-Wan's stance. The way he held his arm against his side. His subtle withdrawal from the rest of the room and into the quiet corner to study a datapad. Most would have taken the furrow in his brow for concentration.
Cody, however, knew the Jedi better than most. He had fought alongside him in countless battles and had seen him injured in combat more than once.
He also knew that Obi-Wan detested being fussed over. He hated having to visit medical. He took his role as general in the Grand Army of the Republic seriously and would not want to appear weak in front of his subordinates.
He was so kriffing stubborn.
Thoughtfully, Cody studied Obi-Wan and considered the best way to approach the situation. He could speak with General Skywalker, for certain. But the young Jedi would, as he tended to do with most situations, rush in head-first and demand Kenobi head straight to Medical and have Kix patch him up. Cody rolled his eyes, imagining the inevitable argument between the two generals, and pondered just how firmly Obi-Wan would then dig in his heels.
He could mention it to Commander Tano. He glanced contemplatively at the Togruta Padawan, deep in conversation with her people's governor. While Ahsoka would have a more tactful approach to her grand-master, she would likely still include Anakin.
Rex, perhaps? His clone brethren had been by Kenobi's side during his captivity on Kadavo the last few weeks. He knew better than any of the rest of them what Obi-Wan had endured. To be honest, Cody himself wasn't yet sure. The general hadn't been debriefed, and Cody had not yet had a moment to talk to him privately to ask. Even then, Cody was sure, Obi-Wan would be reluctant to share the details.
After all, if they didn't know then they couldn't make a fuss.
He closed his eyes briefly and swore under his breath. He outright vetoed going straight to Kix himself. While they could probably manhandle the general into medical between the two of them, he would never forgive them for it.
His gaze shifted as the door at the far end of the hangar slid open, and a pretty, blonde Jedi woman strode in. Cody watched her speculatively as she paused to say something to Master Plo, and then continued over to operate a data port not far from Obi-Wan. Considering, Cody scratched his chin. He had seen the woman, Master Tachi, off and on through the war, occasionally passing information she had obtained from covert missions to Generals Kenobi and Skywalker. Though she wasn't officially a member of the GAR, she operated on its fringes and could be relied on to provide classified information.
Moreover, he had seen her interact with General Kenobi several times. The general could be suave and almost flirtatious with nearly anyone, but with Master Tachi that seemed to take on a whole new life. There seemed to be a casual familiarity between the two, one that was undemanding and comfortable. Cody hesitated for only a moment before he made up his mind and strode over to stand beside her.
"Master Tachi?"
Siri glanced up from the data she was reviewing. "Yes," she replied. "Cody, is it?" The blonde closed out the data and opened another file. "What can I do for you?"
He glanced quickly behind him to General Kenobi, and then stepped closer to Siri and dropped his voice, "Look, I hate to get you involved. I know you're just here to refuel between missions and such, but..." He paused, grasping for the best way to put it. "How well do you know General Kenobi?"
"Well enough," she answered. Siri, too, cast a glance over to Obi-Wan. "We were younglings in the Temple together, and padawans at the same time."
Cody dropped his voice even further. "Then I want to ask you a favor..."
Siri listened to Cody while she fixed her eyes on Obi-Wan. Clearly the clone knew his General better than her old friend gave the man credit for. "He's trying to hide it," Cody said. "But, Master Tachi, I can see that he's injured."
Careful not to alert Obi-Wan, Siri lowered her shields and surreptitiously stretched her mind out to her fellow Jedi. She could feel the pain and discomfort radiating from him, though he did a masterful job of keeping his expression carefully impassive. "Yes, I can see that," she said slowly. She turned her attention back to Cody. "What happened to him? I only just got here myself."
His expression darkened. "The General, along with the Togruta and a few of our troops, were taken captive by Zygerrian slavers. He has been working in the slave mines of Kadavo for weeks."
Siri started, and horror and alarm flashed through her so quickly that she failed to shield it appropriately. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Obi-Wan's auburn head snap up and look around, and she hastily threw her mental shields back up to block him.
"He hasn't checked into medical," Cody went on, and Siri heaved a long-suffering sigh. "I could say something to him myself, but he'll just pull rank. And if I get General Skywalker involved…"
Siri pinched the bridge of her nose. "You don't have to tell me how that will end."
Cody chuckled. "Anyway," he continued, "I wondered if you might say something to him? See if you can convince him to go get checked out and treated?"
Inwardly, Siri swore. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather have some ocean-front land on Tatooine?" She asked with a wry grin, prompting a laugh from Cody. "I can try," she said. "But clearly you know him well. If he digs in his heels, there's only so much I can do."
"I know, Master Tachi," he conceded. "If it comes to it, I'll suck it up and involve General Skywalker."
"Let me try first," she said and logged completely out of the dataport. "I'll let you know if we need to take it further."
"Thanks," he replied with a nod. "The 212th, we're all fond of the General. Do what you can for him."
As he strode away, Siri steeled herself for the argument she knew was to come. She ensured her mental shields were in place, fixed a relaxed expression on her face, and casually strode over to Obi-Wan.
"Didn't expect to see you here." She spun the chair next to him and sat down, facing him.
Obi-Wan looked up from his datapad, startled. His expression melted into a tired smile. "Hello there," he replied. "I didn't expect to see you either."
The utter exhaustion he felt was obvious in his blue eyes, and Siri felt a tug at the heart strings she struggled to suppress. "I'm between assignments," she said. "Refueling." She allowed her eyes to slowly travel over him. "You look like you've had better days, Kenobi."
His guard immediately flashed into his eyes, telling Siri she would have a fight on her hands. "I'm just a bit tired," he said dismissively. "It's been a very long mission."
Siri leaned forward. "Maybe—and I know this is a radical idea but hear me out—you should think about going to Medical. Just to be sure."
She had anticipated the scowl that fell over his expression. "I'm fine," he retorted. "I don't need Medical."
"Really?" she asked, casually. Her eyes fell on the arm wrapped across his middle. "If you're really, truly fine, let me poke you in the ribs and test that."
His scowl deepened. "Siri—"
"Obi-Wan," she cut him off. "You are clearly not fine. You are not fine enough that Commander Cody sought me out and asked me to try and persuade you to get checked out because he is concerned about you."
"Cody came to you?" His brow furrowed. "Why didn't he just say something to me?"
In answer, she simply arched a brow and stared at him.
He shook his head. "He could have gone to Anakin," he grumbled.
"You've met Anakin, right?" she asked. "I believe the commander said he would like to avoid Anakin forcibly dragging you into Medical kicking and screaming."
Obi-Wan appeared to think that over. "Fair point," he conceded, and then sighed. "Siri, I don't want to go to medical. The Togruta..."
Her expression softened. "I understand you were held captive with them on Kadavo."
He rubbed a hand tiredly over his face. "Any time I did something to set off the Zygerrians, they took it out on the Togruta," he said softly. "I made it worse for them, and they hate me—rightfully so. I don't want to put them through anymore."
"Obi-Wan," her voice was soft, tender. "I understand that, I do. But if you're injured, we need to get you taken care of." She glanced quickly around, and then reached over to brush away the stray lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead. It gave him a younger, vulnerable look that reminded her painfully of the boy she had once held hands with under the tables during mealtimes in the Temple. She bit her lip thoughtfully as she brushed the back of her fingers over the soft beard on his cheek. Instinctively, he closed his eyes and leaned into it. "I'll tell you what," she said. "I've been assigned a small room with a bunk and a 'fresher here on board. What if I gave you use of my quarters, such as they are, and get a medic to come to you?"
Obi-Wan shook his head. "Siri, I can't take your bed."
A small, wicked grin twitched her lips. "We can share it, then."
She was both gratified and relieved when the familiar twinkle flashed into his eyes. "Madam, I believe you overestimate my stamina just now." He sighed. "Alright," he agreed. "I can agree to that plan."
Siri held out a hand and helped pull Obi-Wan to his feet, then gave him the location of her quarters. "I'm going to go locate a medic, and some clean clothes for you." Her brow raised. "You go on, and maybe give some consideration to making use of the 'fresher."
He made a face and nodded. "I imagine I do smell a tad."
She squeezed his hand encouragingly and nudged him towards the door. "Go on," she said. "I'll be there in a minute."
Siri watched him go, his fatigue obvious in his posture. The arm tight against his side worried her. She had a feeling they would all feel better once he was checked out. Once he had left the hangar, she sought out Cody once again. "I compromised with him," she said without greeting. "He's agreed to let a medic see him in my quarters." Cody started to protest, but she held up her hand. "He does not want to go to medical because he fears he will inflict more pain and discomfort on the Togruta with his presence. I'm going to give him that and agree to this arrangement. Can you get the medic to come see him?"
Cody sighed in resignation. "Yeah. I don't like it," he added, "but I know the general. I'll go find Kix."
He headed off on his mission, and Siri then turned to her next target. She took a deep, calming breath, and zeroed on a corner where Anakin Skywalker was leaned against the wall and talking quietly with his Padawan.
"Master Tachi," he said, straightening as she approached. Both he and Ahsoka bowed respectfully. "How are you?"
"I'm well," she said, returning the bow. "But I need to speak with the both of you." She stepped closer and lowered her voice. "I am going to tell you something, and you are not going to rush in headfirst and take over." She folded her hands in front of her. "Please."
Anakin visibly tensed defensively. "Go on," he said with deep reservation as he pushed away from the wall.
"Obi-Wan is injured," she said, quietly. She silenced his outrage with a raised hand. "His second-in-command, Cody, came to me and asked me to say something to him and try to convince him to get checked out by medical." Ahsoka rolled her eyes, and Siri had to suppress a responding grin.
"Why didn't Cody just come to me?" Anakin asked in disbelief. "For that matter, why didn't Obi-Wan?"
"Probably because neither one of them wanted to argue with you about it," Ahsoka interjected. She smiled innocently in response to his glare. "…Master." She turned from her master and faced Siri. "What can Master Skywalker and I do for him?"
"He's going to need some clean clothes," Siri replied. "And maybe some light food if you can find some for him."
"We can get some soup and tea from the mess hall," Ahsoka assured her.
Siri nodded. "Bring it to my quarters," she said. "He's agreed to let a medic see him there."
"Why doesn't he just go to medical?" Anakin muttered. "Kriffing stubborn—"
"Obi-Wan feels he was the source of a lot of pain and aggression for the Togruta on Kadavo," Siri replied quietly. "He is concerned his presence will make things more difficult for them, and so we reached a compromise."
"I'm sure they don't blame him," Ahsoka cried, horrified. "Master Obi-Wan would never intentionally cause someone pain. And I've talked to the governor—they are willing to join the Republic."
"We know that," Siri replied gently, and shot a reassuring look at Anakin, who had opened his mouth to speak. "But I don't know that he is in the right frame of mind to hear that just now. Let's get him cleaned and patched up, and talk with him about it after."
Anakin started to protest, but eventually his shoulders lowered in resignation. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Master Obi-Wan is about the most stubborn man on the Council," he muttered.
"No arguments here," Siri agreed.
"Alright," Anakin agreed. "We'll do it his way. For now." He paused to glower at Siri. "But if the medic finds anything seriously wrong with him, I will knock him unconscious and drop him in the bacta tank myself."
"I'll hold him down," Ahsoka added.
"I'll pass that along," Siri answered with a smile.
Siri arrived at her minuscule quarters a few minutes later. She paused inside the door and listened, but did not hear the sound of the sonic shower running inside the 'fresher. Concerned, she stepped over to the door and tapped. "Obi-Wan?"
"Come in," replied his tired voice. The door slid open and she found him sitting fully dressed on the toilet. He offered her a rueful smile. "I appear to be having some difficulty getting my tunic off."
She smiled sympathetically and stepped in the room. "Let me help." Obi-Wan hesitated and flushed and Siri laughed. "Kenobi, if you search back through your memories, I believe you will recall I have seen you in far less."
She was further amused when he blushed even brighter. "Siri— "
"Obi-Wan," she said softly, "let me help."
He sighed wearily, then nodded. She eased him to his feet and allowed her to unfasten the soiled and tattered tunic. His discomfort was palpable as she gently turned him and began sliding the garment off his shoulders. Siri stopped, though, when he inhaled sharply.
"Hold on," he said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Slowly, he let it out. "Let's do this on the slow side."
She nodded and slowly, carefully eased the garment down. She bit her lip as he hissed and stifled a groan.
As his back came into view, the reason became clear. Welts, bruises, and gashes crisscrossed his back angrily. Some of the wounds had festered, and stuck to the fabric of his tunic. Siri gasped softly, finished sliding the tunic off, and gently hovered her fingertips over the worst of the marks. "Obi-Wan," she said softly. "What— "
He closed his eyes and exhaled. "They had whips."
A hot ball of anger gathered in her stomach and she struggled to extinguish it. It grew when she noticed burns forming a ring around his neck. "And collars?"
He only nodded, eyes still closed.
Mindful of his wounds, she turned him to face her. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, Obi-Wan," she said gently. "None of this was your fault."
"I know that in my head," he admitted, and allowed himself the small comfort of resting his forehead against hers.
She stood for a moment, lowering her shields, and allowing warmth, comfort, and peace to flow to him through the force. She rested a palm against his bare chest, and immediately felt him flinch. It was then the noted the large bruises blooming along his ribcage. She bit her lip and looked up at him. "Shower time, Kenobi," she said and squeezed his hand. "You'll feel better afterwards."
Quietly, she slipped out of the 'fresher and into the bedroom. Behind her, she heard the sonic shower turn on and breathed a sigh of relief. She turned down the bed, mentally prepared to argue with Obi-Wan about where he would be sleeping. The shower ran only minutes before she heard it turn off. Moments later, a towel-wrapped Jedi master exited the 'fresher looking somewhat better.
"Well," Siri said, eyeing him and surveying the welts and bruises covering his torso. "At least you no longer have that fresh bantha smell."
"I can't bear the thought of putting those clothes back on," he said, wrinkling his nose. He glanced down. "But I don't have anything else."
Before Siri could respond, the door chimed. "I think that might be a solution." She slid the door open and found Anakin and Ahsoka waiting.
"Master Obi-Wan, we brought you—"Ahsoka froze just inside the door, clean clothes in her arms, and immediately averted her eyes towards the ceiling. For his part, Obi-Wan flushed a deep crimson. "Master, I am so sorry!" Blindly, Ahsoka tossed the clothing at him and scurried out of the room. "Feel better, Master Obi-Wan!" she called over her shoulder.
Obi-Wan knocked a shirt off his red face and glanced up to see a smirking Anakin carrying a tray containing soup and tea into the room. "You can deflect blaster bolts but not flying clothing?"
"I left my lightsaber in my other pants," Obi-Wan replied dryly. "Excuse me." And with that, he retreated back into the 'fresher to dress.
Anakin watched his master go, his eyes fixed on the crisscross of marks across Obi-Wan's bare back. He stood still for a moment until he realized he was gripping the tray so tightly his knuckles were white and his hands shaking. Carefully, he set the tray on a table and forced his expression into neutral lines.
When he turned, he found Siri watching him. "You're angry," she observed.
"I'm fine," he retorted dismissively.
"It's understandable to be angry," she continued. Briefly, her gaze lingered on the doorway to the 'fresher. "I am."
Anakin folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the bulkhead. "Not very Jedi of you."
"I have known Obi-Wan since we were younglings," she replied. "I care about him. And I don't like knowing that someone has intentionally hurt him."
Anakin closed his eyes against the image of the angry welts on his master's back. Instead, he found himself recalling moments from his childhood as a slave. Anakin shuddered, rubbed his hands over his eyes, and snapped them back open.
Siri's eyes narrowed in consideration. "Anakin," she said softly. "Obi-Wan's injuries are not your fault."
"I should have had him out of there before they took him off to Kadavo," Anakin shot back.
"What exactly could you have done, Anakin?" Obi-Wan spoke up from the doorway.
Both Anakin and Siri turned to find he had re-entered the room, now dressed in loose pants and a soft shirt. "Obi-Wan," Anakin greeted him. "Where is your tunic? I can take it to laundry."
"On the floor," Obi-Wan confessed with a wry smile. "It seems some of your tidiness habits have rubbed off on me." He heaved an exhausted sigh. "As far as I'm concerned you can burn the tunic. I never want to see those particular clothes again." He looked up at his former Padawan. "Siri is right, though. This isn't your fault."
Anakin shot him a disbelieving look. If not him, then who? He should have been stronger, more skilled, and freed his former master from the Zygerrian slavers – not make the situation worse and allow his master to be sent to the mines on Kadavo.
Before he could respond, the door chimed. Anakin jumped on the welcomed interruption and opened the door to find Kix and Cody in the corridor. "General Skywalker," Cody acknowledged with a salute. He paused and surveyed Obi-Wan carefully. "Well, General, you do at least look cleaner."
Anakin chuckled. "Quarters are getting a little tight in here, so I'm going to go check on my Padawan and make sure she hasn't been permanently scarred by the sight of Obi-Wan in a towel." He paused to clap his master on the shoulder. "Take good care of him, Kix."
He immediately regretted his foolish action. Obi-Wan stiffened under his hand and hissed out a breath mixed with a strangled grunt. Anakin's brow furrowed, and he ignored the exclamation of protest and pressed his hand to Obi-Wan's forehead. "You're running a fever, Master," he said, concerned.
"From what Rex told me of the conditions in that mine, I wouldn't be surprised if he's fighting an infection," Kix said as he began unpacking his medical equipment onto a small table. He glanced over his shoulder at Anakin. "I've got him, General."
"I'm right here, you know," Obi-Wan muttered.
"Go check and make sure your Padawan hasn't expired from mortification," Siri said, gently nudging Anakin towards the door. "You too, Commander," she added, this time nudging Cody. "Obi-Wan is in good hands."
With a worried backwards glance at his Master, Anakin allowed himself to be edged out of the room.
"Thank you," Obi-Wan said to Siri as he dropped into a chair. "The last thing I need is Anakin hovering like a worried parent."
"He cares about you," Siri responded. She stepped over and gently brushed the hair back from his forehead, skimming her palm over his hot skin in the process. "And he's right—you are running a fever."
"Then let's see what's going on," Kix interjected, and held up a small medical scanner. He ran it slowly over Obi-Wan, and then swore softly. "Several cracked ribs, a bruised lung, a mild concussion, and an infection stemming from…somewhere." He pursed his lips as he studied the readout on the scanner.
"Likely the wounds on his back," Siri replied. Obi-Wan shot her a mutinous glare, which she pointedly ignored.
"Honestly, General, you would be better off if I tossed you in a bacta tank for a couple of hours," Kix said. "It would make things easier and heal faster. But," he went on, holding up his hand against the Jedi's protests, "I know you're going to argue and expend necessary energy if I try to do that, so we'll do what we can." He looked at Siri. "You known him long?"
"Since we were children," she said, amused.
"Has he always been so stubborn about getting medical treatment when he needs it?"
She chuckled at Obi-Wan's outraged snort. "He has always been resistant to people fussing over him unnecessarily," Siri said diplomatically.
Shaking his head, Kix withdrew a syringe. Obi-Wan regarded it suspiciously. "What is that? I really don't want anything for pain."
"It's just an antibiotic, Sir," Kix said. "But, General, I really should give you something for pain and fever."
"I can meditate through it," Obi-Wan replied.
"Sir—" Kix protested.
"Pain medications dull our connection to the Force," Siri stepped in. "It can be disorienting. You'd be surprised how effective meditation can be."
Kix glanced back and forth between them, skepticism written clearly on his face. "Whatever you say, General. Now let me look at that back."
Reluctantly, Obi-Wan turned his chair around to straddle it and slowly and carefully removed the loose shirt. Siri was privately glad he didn't see the quick grimace of sympathy that flashed over Kix's face. She hadn't been exaggerating when she said he didn't like being fussed over. As long as she had known him, Obi-Wan had been both selfless and independent. He did not like feeling like a burden on someone else.
"General, are you sure you don't want a painkiller or a couple hours in the tank?" Kix asked. "Some of these wounds are definitely infected. I'll need to drain them, and it won't be pleasant."
Obi-Wan took a deep, steadying breath, rested his hands on the back of the chair, and closed his eyes. "Just do your best, Kix," he replied, quietly.
Siri, too, closed her eyes and drew on the Force. Silently, she sent peace and healing towards her old friend as the medic quietly went to work. Obi-Wan was still for several moments, but as Kix continued she could feel Obi-Wan's distress and pain begin to seep through his calm and overtake it. When she eventually heard a small, strangled gasp escape him, she opened her eyes.
Obi-Wan's eyes were still closed, though the hands resting on the chair back trembled. His cheeks were even more flushed with exertion, and his jaw was clenched as he fought to remain in a restorative meditation. Despite herself, Siri felt her heart twist. Stubborn man...
Kix looked over to her helplessly, his eyes silently asking for assistance.
"Let's try something," she said quietly, and stepped over to Obi-Wan. His blue eyes snapped open and he looked up at her with fever-bright, exhausted eyes. She sat on the edge of the bed and gently pulled the back of the chair toward herself. "Let me help, Obi-Wan," she said, softly.
He glanced back at Kix, who had paused in his work. Siri could feel his hesitation.
"Kenobi," she said more firmly, "let me help or we will have to move you to medical and a bacta tank – which I know you do not want. It's your choice."
With a sigh, Obi-Wan nodded and closed his eyes again. Siri suspected he lacked the strength to argue. She slid further forward and gently pulled Obi-Wan to rest his head against her shoulder. Though he resisted at first, after a moment the calm, restorative energy, she pushed into him through the force took over and he began to relax.
Kix's eyebrows winged up in surprise, and he shot a silent, questioning look at Siri. She gave a brief nod of encouragement and closed her eyes to focus her energy on Obi-Wan as Kix returned to his work.
She could feel the fever heat rolling off him, and the exhaustion that seemed to have permeated to his bones. The war had not been kind to him, this last mission especially. Occasionally, she felt him jerk as Kix touched a particularly inflamed and painful spot among the angry welts. When he tensed, she soothed once again, and he sagged even further against her. As Kix began to apply bacta bandages to some of the worst of them, Siri heard the door slide open and a familiar presence step in.
"Is he asleep?" Anakin asked softly from the doorway.
She opened her eyes to see both Skywalker and his Padawan standing just inside the room, concerned written on both of their faces.
"'m awake," Obi-Wan mumbled, though he didn't move.
"Barely," she whispered, a small smile touching her lips. She watched as Kix affixed the last of the bacta bandages and stood. Briefly, she bushed a hand over his hot forehead whispered, "Sleep, Obi-Wan." He didn't have it in him to resist the quiet suggestion and any last bit of resistance he had melted—and so did he as he completely sagged against her. "Help me get him into the bed," she whispered to the others, and Ahsoka immediately sprang forward to assist Siri in transferring her grand-master into the small bunk.
Kix packed his equipment. "I'll be back to check on him in a couple of hours," he said. "If that fever doesn't break by morning, though, we may need to convince him to reconsider the tank."
"Thanks, Kix," Anakin said as he lifted his Master's legs and placed them on the cool sheets. The Clone saluted, and quietly left the room.
"Master Tachi, isn't this your bed?" Ahsoka asked, glancing around.
Anakin snorted. "I'm pretty sure this isn't the first time Obi-Wan has been in her bed," he muttered devilishly.
Siri bit back a laugh at Ahsoka's horrified glance between Obi-Wan and herself. "Anakin!" the padawan sputtered. "If he heard you say that, he would –"
"He would blush furiously, tell me to shut up, and quickly change the subject." Anakin grinned wickedly. "Maybe not in those exact words, but that's the general gist. Trust me."
"The two of you go and get some sleep," Siri interrupted their banter. "I'm sure after all you've been through you could use it." She pulled the blanket up to cover Obi-Wan, and he instinctively rolled to his side and tugged them more tightly against him. "Obi-Wan can rest here, and I'll keep watch over him."
Anakin touched Ahsoka's shoulder and nodded to the door. "Come on, Snips," he said. "Master Tachi has him." He then turned to Siri. "Call me if he needs anything."
"I will," she promised. Once Anakin and his Padawan had slipped out of the room, Siri sank to the edge of the bed, and watched Obi-Wan's peaceful, relaxed face and steady breathing. Even sitting next to him, she could still feel the heat radiating off of him and wondered if she should have asked Kix to give him something for fever while he was still there. The fever did not seem to be disrupting the rest he so desperately needed, however, and so she let it go. Instead, she reached a hand over and gently ran her fingers through his hair.
In his sleeping state Obi-Wan smiled, sighed once, and drowsily murmured her name.