Anakin let his arm drop from Obi-Wan's shoulders to his back instead. He found himself rubbing circles into Obi-Wan's back again—gentle and slow movements, just enough to keep Obi-Wan from shaking. Anakin felt Obi-Wan inhale, and for a second, he wondered if this was it, this was when Obi-Wan would pull away, but instead, Obi-Wan murmured, "Where did you learn to do that?"

Anakin faltered. He almost stopped moving his hand entirely, but something in Obi-Wan's voice forced him to keep going. "My mother," he said, his voice coming out hoarser than he had anticipated. He dropped his eyes to his lap as Obi-Wan shifted under him. "She—well. I'd get sick sometimes."

"I see." Obi-Wan's voice was quiet, so quiet that if Anakin hadn't been listening, he would have missed them.

"Yeah, well," Anakin muttered. He slowed his movements, let his hand sit at the back of Obi-Wan's neck. Still warm. Anakin frowned. He had hoped that the fever would break by now. "Let's see if you can stomach some medicine now."

Anakin rattled out a few pills[CO1] from the bottle into his palm. He swiped up the cup of water from the table and handed both medicine and water to Obi-Wan. After Obi-Wan took the medicine, Anakin asked, "How're you feeling?"

Obi-Wan at least had the energy to give Anakin a wry smile. "The medicine doesn't work that fast."

"I know," Anakin said. "But do you think you can keep the medicine down?"

Obi-Wan nodded.

Anakin let out a breath of relief. "Okay," he said. "Good." He settled back down next to Obi-Wan. "Do you think you could eat more?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I'd rather sleep," he replied, rubbing at his eyes. He turned to Anakin. "You should, too."

"I'm not tired," Anakin said. He pushed himself off the bed. "You sleep. I've got some work to do, anyways." He gestured to the datapad sitting at the table. "I'll keep myself busy."

Obi-Wan hesitated. Anakin knew his former master probably wanted to argue, but Anakin walked to the table before Obi-Wan could say anything. "Just…get some sleep," Anakin said, already activating the datapad. He didn't look up as he tapped open an application. "Let the medicine work its magic."

"No such thing," Anakin heard Obi-Wan mumble, but when Anakin lifted his head, Obi-Wan had at last settled back into bed. Anakin let his head drop back down to the datapad. He lowered the volume all the way so as to not disturb Obi-Wan, and he flicked through blueprints of fighters until his eyes glazed over.

Obi-Wan was shivering.

Anakin checked for more blankets, but there were none. Gritting his teeth in frustration, Anakin turned back around to Obi-Wan. He was already heaped on with the covers, and yet, even despite it all, Obi-Wan shook as though they were on an ice planet instead of just his quarters.

Anakin pressed his hand against Obi-Wan's forehead and cringed back. Too hot. Too hot. But how—Anakin had given Obi-Wan the fever reducers, hadn't he? He should be getting better. Anakin considered calling for the healers again, but before he could move, a low moan interrupted his thoughts.

Anakin instantly settled back down to Obi-Wan's side. "Right here," he said, setting his hand down on Obi-Wan's shoulder.

"Cold," Obi-Wan whispered, his eyes opening slightly. He rolled over on his side so that he was fully facing Anakin. "Too much—"

Anakin's chest tightened. "I know," he said, his voice cracking. "I'm sorry." He started to stand up. "You're too warm. I'll get—"

"No," Obi-Wan protested, and faster than Anakin could even process, Obi-Wan's hand had shot out and grabbed Anakin's wrist. "Don't."

Anakin looked helplessly at the door. "Master," he started to say, but Obi-Wan tugged at his wrist hard, much harder than Anakin had expected his bedridden master to be capable of. Anakin looked down at Obi-Wan, half-exasperated and half-bewildered by the sudden forcefulness. "Master," Anakin repeated, but then he looked down at Obi-Wan, and the argument he already had building in his head started to dissolve.

"Stay," Obi-Wan whispered. "Please."

Delirious, Anakin thought. Obi-Wan was delirious.

But Anakin swallowed, lowered himself to Obi-Wan's side. "Okay," he said. He lifted up his wrist, looked at Obi-Wan's hand still so tightly wrapped around it. "I'm not going anywhere."

Obi-Wan nodded. And then, as fast as Obi-Wan had grabbed Anakin's wrist, his hand dropped to the side of the mattress. Anakin saw that Obi-Wan's hands were shaking, became even more painfully aware of how the shivering had turned into full-blown tremors. Anakin wished he had more blankets. Anakin wished he knew more about healing. Dressing a wound, he knew. Dealing with broken ribs, a bullet wound, shrapnel to the limbs, Anakin knew all of that from spending too much time on the field. But using the Force to heal—that was something out of Anakin's expertise completely. Obi-Wan had always been better at it. One time, Anakin remembered how he had gotten burned by something—he couldn't remember the details, just a vague memory of a workshop or a garage and something buzzing into his arm. He remembered Obi-Wan at his side in an instant, remembered how the pain slowly leached away before setting on a bandage.

Anakin pressed his lips together. For once in his life, he wished he had bothered to listen to Obi-Wan when he tried to teach him that trick.

But right now, Obi-Wan was shivering too hard, and Anakin didn't know what to do.

Anakin stood up. "Move over," he said, taking off his boots. To his surprise, Obi-Wan rolled over on his side. Anakin slid into the bed, careful not to move Obi-Wan any more than he had to. He could feel the unbearable heat of Obi-Wan's whole body, but still, Obi-Wan shivered.

Anakin closed his eyes briefly and hoped that Obi-Wan would be so delirious as to not remember what he was going to do next. He wasn't sure his master's pride could take it.

Still, Anakin rolled over on his side and wrapped a tentative arm around Obi-Wan's side. He felt Obi-Wan's breaths stutter, heard a quiet, "Anakin…" as Anakin pulled Obi-Wan against his chest.

"Stop shaking," Anakin only said. "You have to." Before he could think better of it, Anakin rested his forehead against Obi-Wan's back, the heat burning right through his clothes onto Anakin's skin. He heard another sharp breath, but then he felt Obi-Wan relax. One heartbeat, two, three later, Obi-Wan sank deeper into the bed, his own hand just barely brushing against Anakin's.

With that, Anakin called out to the Force. He tried to remember what Obi-Wan had done—just remembered Obi-Wan's touch on his arm, remembered the brief feeling of pain melting away. Anakin closed his eyes. Come on, he thought. Come to me.

Obi-Wan's breaths started to even out. The chills started to ease, and Anakin felt a dizzying mixture of relief and satisfaction in the slow withdrawal of everything that had so wrecked Obi-Wan's body. Come on, Anakin thought again. Almost there.

He felt something sharp stab at his head—not Obi-Wan, not the fever's heat, but something else. Anakin pushed past the unpleasant feeling, concentrated instead on the shivering. "Come on," Anakin said aloud, and then Obi-Wan fell limp in Anakin's arm, and Anakin heard nothing but steady breathing.

Anakin opened his eyes. Dots speckled his vision, and for a moment, Anakin was confused about whether he was standing up or still in bed. He felt for Obi-Wan's fever—he was cooler now. Anakin smiled to himself and promptly sank into sleep.

"What have you done?"

Anakin blearily opened his eyes. Obi-Wan's face was swimming above him, and when Anakin blinked, he could make out the worried eyes, the furrowed brows. Anakin tried to smile, but a sharp pain stabbed through his head, causing him to wince instead.

"How d'you feel?" Anakin asked. Or slurred. Anakin's tongue felt heavy in his mouth. Everything felt heavy, including his own head. Still, Anakin dragged up his hand, tried to reach for Obi-Wan, but his master took Anakin's wrist and set it back down.

"I'm fine," Obi-Wan said. "But you—" Anakin felt Obi-Wan's hand on his face, and without meaning to, he pushed himself up to catch more of his touch because Obi-Wan's hand was warm, and Anakin was cold—

Ah. So that's what happened when Anakin tried to use the Force to heal. He hadn't known about this part.

"You need a healer."

"Mm, that's what I said," Anakin mumbled. He felt Obi-Wan's hand moved away, and Anakin let out a disproving whine.

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan said, and he did sound sorry, but Anakin didn't care, because he just wanted that warmth to come back—

But Obi-Wan was getting off the bed, reaching for something out of Anakin's field of vision. Then Obi-Wan returned with water. "Drink," he said, "and then we'll get you to the healers."

"Don't want healers," Anakin said, jerking his head away. "Don't need—" He was cut off by Obi-Wan slowly pushing him up. "Get off," Anakin said, trying to get out of Obi-Wan's grip, but his master's strength had returned, and with it was the sternness that was so familiar that even in his own state, Anakin didn't know whether to feel relieved or annoyed.

But he let Obi-Wan lift the cup to his lips, let the water dribble down his throat until he couldn't anymore. Anakin broke away, weakly pushing at Obi-Wan's arms, his chest. Stop.

"Come now," Obi-Wan said. "You need medical attention. There are perfectly good healers waiting—"

"That's what I said," Anakin repeated. He shoved at Obi-Wan's chest again, and this time, Obi-Wan at least swayed backwards. "But you didn't want them, so I don't have to."

"Faulty logic," Obi-Wan said. "Incredibly faulty."

"You're faulty," Anakin mumbled, falling back into the bed. He closed his eyes, trying to pin down the pounding in his head. He became suddenly too aware of how much everything hurt—his legs, arms, chest…Anakin felt like he was breathing in molten lava every time he took a breath, even though everything else felt too cold.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said. "We have to take you to the proper care."

Anakin only rolled over on his side. He meant it as an act of defiance but nope, that was the wrong move, because he suddenly felt a terrible pitching sensation in his stomach, and then Anakin was rolling back over, forcing himself off the bed, stumbling—his damn legs were already giving out from under him—and too late, Anakin let go of the sick already roiling in his stomach.

"Anakin," Anakin felt Obi-Wan's arms hook around him as he almost toppled forward. "Here."

Anakin was led to the refresher, and he just only managed to get more of his vomit into the toilet before sinking down to his knees. Despite himself, tears pricked at the corners of his eyes because everything hurt, and he was colder than ever, and his chest—

He became semi-aware of Obi-Wan's hand patting his back. "I should have known," he heard Obi-Wan murmur, and Anakin wasn't sure if he was supposed to hear that, but he didn't have enough brain capacity to actually parse apart Obi-Wan's words, because another wave of nausea roiled over him.

"Stop," Anakin gasped finally, hunching over the toilet. "I can't—" He fell backwards on his heels, let his head fall to shaky hands. A low groan tore from his throat, and Anakin tasted sour bile in his mouth. He was distantly aware of Obi-Wan getting up. He heard the rush of water, and then Obi-Wan re-appeared with a cup in his hand.

"Drink and spit," Obi-Wan instructed. Anakin didn't bother arguing. He spat into the toilet and, after setting the cup down on the floor, Anakin could only stay on his heels in the cautious way that anyone with a weak stomach would.

"You used the Force to heal me," Obi-Wan said at last. "Didn't you." It wasn't a question.

"Maybe," Anakin said. Even though he had just had water, his voice came out strangled, too low and deep for even Anakin's own ears. "Didn't know what else to do." He slid away from the toilet, let his head fall back against the wall. "You were…" He looked at Obi-Wan, his words drying up.

Obi-Wan looked much better now, with the color returned to his face and the dark circles under his eyes lightened, but the slump in his shoulders remained. The pain, Anakin felt from before, still hummed within Obi-Wan, even as quiet as it was.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said suddenly, and Anakin withdrew.

"Sorry," Anakin mumbled, dropping his chin against his chest. "Didn't mean to."

There was a silence between them, and for what felt like an eternity, the only sounds were the faint drip of the water hitting the sink.

Anakin shivered. He hadn't meant to, but he was still cold. Obi-Wan sighed. "Let's get you to the healers." Before Anakin could protest, Obi-Wan started to pull Anakin up to his feet. Anakin grunted as the floor spun briefly underneath him, and then he felt Obi-Wan at his side.

"Lean," Obi-Wan said, and Anakin wordlessly fell against Obi-Wan. He let his arm be guided around his former master's shoulders. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Anakin mumbled. He looked at Obi-Wan. "'m sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Obi-Wan said, already leading Anakin out of the refresher.

"No," Anakin said, insistent. He tried to keep eye contact with Obi-Wan, but everything was making it difficult for him to focus now. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have gone through that alone." He saw something flicker across Obi-Wan's face. Stop. Anakin should stop now, but the words were stumbling over each other, and Anakin couldn't stop them. "She loved you, and you—'

"Anakin," Obi-Wan interrupted, his voice taut. "We're not talking about this." They were out of Obi-Wan's quarters now.

"Then when are you?" Anakin asked. He gripped Obi-Wan's shoulder. "You keep pretending."

He felt Obi-Wan stiffen underneath him. Too far. Anakin had gone too far. And yet, Anakin found himself waiting for a response. And for a moment, Anakin actually thought he would get a response—but then Obi-Wan was turning away.

"We're here," was all Obi-Wan said.

Anakin wasn't sure what the last hours really were. All he knew was that he was suddenly laid out on a bed, and then he heard the quiet murmurs of Obi-Wan and the healers, and Anakin could only focus on Obi-Wan's voice through it all.

Anakin opened his eyes once. He saw Obi-Wan sitting beside him, and he looked so sad and alone that Anakin wanted to reach out, but he couldn't because he didn't have the strength, and he wasn't even sure if such a gesture would be welcome.

"How is he?"

"He's getting better. Gave us quite the scare earlier. You aid he tried to heal you through the Force? He might have absorbed your ailment instead."

A weak laugh. "Yes, well, Anakin always had a knack of getting ahead of himself."

"It would seem so. You'll be pleased to know that his fever has gone down. All he needs now is to stay hydrated for the next few days."

"Thank you, Madame Che."

"Of course."

Anakin opened his eyes just in time to see the master healer walk away from Obi-Wan. His former master's head hung low, his eyebrows knitted together in that typical worried expression of his. Anakin would have laughed if he could.

"Master," Anakin opted to say instead.

Obi-Wan turned quickly. "You're awake," he said. "How are you feeling?"

Anakin groaned, slowly pushing himself up by the elbows. Obi-Wan moved forward and then halted to a quick stop as Anakin sat up. Anakin pretended not to notice. "Like someone hit me with a speeder. Slowly." At Obi-Wan's quizzical look, Anakin translated, "Better."

"That would probably be because Che was able to reverse the effects of the stunt you pulled," Obi-Wan replied. He hesitated, and then, sitting down next to Anakin, said, "That was dangerous. Things could have gone badly."

"But they didn't," Anakin replied. He leaned back against the propped up pillow. "See? I'm still breathing."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly. "That's not the point."

"Then what is?" Anakin asked sharply. Obi-Wan opened his eyes to look at him. "It wasn't a stunt."

Obi-Wan stilled. "Anakin," he said wearily, "you didn't have to do that for me. You shouldn't have. Because of that, you got hurt."

"Yeah, well," Anakin said, looking away, "that didn't bother me." He curled a fist around the corner of one of the sheets. "You were sick. Really sick. The medicine wasn't working, and you couldn't get to the healers, so I did what I could."

"Anakin—"

"You told me to stay." Anakin turned around to face Obi-Wan. His former master, to Anakin's relief, didn't look away. "Do you remember?"

One moment passed. Then another.

"Yes." Obi-Wan paused. "You didn't have to."

"Maybe," Anakin replied. He twisted at the edge of the sheet again. "But you shouldn't have to be alone, either." He let his words hang in the air, let the implication sit there between them. Anakin lifted his eyes up to Obi-Wan again, half expecting that same frustratingly passive face, but no—that wasn't it. Far from it. Anakin only just saw the faintest glisten of tears—actual tears—before he started to sit up.

"Master?" Anakin ventured quietly, ignoring the dull ache in his limbs as he moved forward. "Wait—hey—" He reached out, hesitated for a moment, and then let his hand rest on Obi-Wan's arm. He wondered if Obi-Wan would jerk away, but nothing of the sort happened.

Wordlessly, Anakin pulled himself forward just in time to catch Obi-Wan's head on his shoulder. The strength seemed to seep out of Obi-Wan at that moment, and Anakin felt his former master slump against him in the way that Anakin knew only resulted in too much grief in a too short time.

Then Obi-Wan was trembling ever so lightly against Anakin, and Anakin felt something wet against his shoulder. There weren't any sounds except for Obi-Wan's quiet, shaky breaths—not even a full cry, and Anakin knew he wouldn't be hearing one.

Anakin let his head fall against Obi-Wan's shoulder. I'm sorry, he wanted to say, but he knew that Obi-Wan already knew. He let his other hand skirt over Obi-Wan's back for a moment, hesitated again, but Obi-Wan was trembling, and Anakin dropped his hand against the center of Obi-Wan's back.

Don't do this alone, Anakin thought. Pleaded. You don't have to do this alone.

Obi-Wan shifted against him. "I'm sorry," he said roughly. "I shouldn't have—"

"It's fine," Anakin said, but he loosened his hold on Obi-Wan—only Obi-Wan stayed. "Really."

Obi-Wan breathed in. Anakin heard it, felt it. "You know I can't…I wasn't even supposed to be at Mandalore."

Anakin paused. He hadn't known that part. The thought ached him even more—the idea of his master, so rigid and firm in his belief about the way of the Order, actually still going to Mandalore? "But you did."

"I did." Obi-Wan's voice cracked, and Anakin instinctively adjusted himself as Obi-Wan's forehead slid down Anakin's shoulder. "She's gone."

"It's not your fault," Anakin said quietly, because he knew that guilt too well—felt it too often, and he couldn't stand to see Obi-Wan carry that additional burden. He settled his hand on Obi-Wan's back again. Let it move in its familiar circles, felt Obi-Wan's tremors fade into a gentle shiver.

Anakin lifted his head from Obi-Wan's shoulder. The sun was setting outside, causing shadows to lengthen across the hall. Anakin watched Obi-Wan and his shadow slowly spread across the floor—shadows entwined around each other in this quiet room, in this quiet temple, in this loud planet, in this loud galaxy.

And through it all, Anakin held Obi-Wan.

-fin-

A/N: Thank you all for the support! I was excited to have this fic as the first one of 2020, because I just miss these two so much. (And those feelings were only intensified when I listened to Someone to You by the Banners, because...wow, what a good song for them?)

As always, reviews/constructive criticism are always appreciated!