Life And What Comes After

by Ibelin

Obi-Wan dies on Jabiim. Anakin blames himself, doesn't know how to go on and yet - he does. Maybe the Force rewards that kind of thing, or maybe he just gets lucky, but when a mission lands Anakin on a vaguely familiar planet, he gets a second chance to do what he knows he should have done in the first place: save his master. (Working title: "The Amnesia Fluff Fic")

14. Subconscious

Obi-Wan parked in a subterranean lot. A lift that Anakin hadn't even noticed dropped them down beneath the clinic, and Obi-Wan secured the speeder and got out with the thoughtless, easy movements of daily routine. Anakin chose to jump out over the side, something that Obi-Wan's expression clearly noted and mocked him for. When he paused, Anakin expected to get called a show-off, or something of that nature.

Instead, Obi-Wan said, "I would like to see that planetarium someday."

Anakin blinked. He lifted his chin. "You will, Master." And then, when he felt he was in danger of staring too seriously, he added, "If there's a way out of this dungeon. I'm pretty sure we're supposed to be in the clinic, not under it."

Rolling his eyes, Obi-Wan led the way to another lift, this time one for people. "Where exactly are we headed?"

"Irenia said to meet her in imaging."

"All right."

Obi-Wan did know the way, as Irenia had predicted. It was only a few hallways from the lift to imaging, but Obi-Wan couldn't walk it without getting trapped in conversations with thirty of his acquaintances, apparently.

"Alpha!" said a young man in an unmarked medical tunic. He was maybe Anakin's age, probably younger. Too well-mannered to stare, he nevertheless measured Anakin in one brightly intelligent glance. "Where have you been?"

Obi-Wan smiled at him, addressing him as Suzor and saying something cursory about parts for the new emergency response relay. "Have you persuaded Doctor Roh to let you observe anything yet?"

"No, he's still got me doing paperwork." Suzor shrugged, self-deprecating and amused. "Stuck in the feedback loop of needing experience to advance, but not being able to get experience without advancing first. I keep telling you, I'll owe you a favor if you put in a good word for me."

"Yes, because my educated medical opinion is so valuable to Roh."

Making a wry face, Suzor said, "Ah, well. I guess I should rededicate myself to the never-ending adversity of life as an intern."

"In that case, I'll leave you to your self-mortification," Obi-Wan deadpanned.

They parted, clearly mutually satisfied with the brief banter, and Anakin considered asking who Suzor was. He decided not to, first because he really didn't care, and second because asking would likely only delay them even further. The faster they got to imaging and to Irenia, the better.

Then, Obi-Wan stopped to greet someone else. And after that, someone else.

Standing awkward and silent like a too-tall shadow at Obi-Wan's shoulder, Anakin couldn't tell if Obi-Wan was happy to chat, or if he was also impatient and was simply being polite. It was infuriating, not least because he wouldn't have had to wonder if he had access to Obi-Wan in the Force like he should have. By the time Obi-Wan finally led them through a door labeled IMAGING, Anakin was about ready to jump out of his skin.

A droid accosted them, its sky-blue plasticast face and modulated voice clearly meant to be reassuring. "Welcome to the Skrell 5 Neighborhood Clinic's Imaging Department. How can I help you?"

"They're mine, J-4."

Irenia stood up from where she had been leaning on the droid's workstation. Her voice had been brusque, but she smiled at Obi-Wan and came forward to hug him. Anakin watched it unfold with the morbid curiosity with which he would watch a massive podracer wipe-out. "You made it," she said, nothing but pleasure in her tone now.

She didn't look at Anakin, or speak to him, so he thought he was justified in assuming that all the previous brusqueness had been for his benefit. He didn't mind, as long as they got this done.

"Couldn't miss a chance to disobey orders," said Obi-Wan. "So, what is it exactly that we're supposed to be doing?"

Briefly, Irenia's eyes met Anakin's, and he regretted that they hadn't planned this out more explicitly than they had. Or at all.

"Follow me," said Irenia.

They did. Doctors and technicians were doing their quiet work all throughout the imaging department, escorting patients in and out. None paid much attention to them, focused as they were, and Irenia's destination was not far. They ended up in front of a door marked with a number three. To Anakin it was much the same as any other place in the clinic, but Obi-Wan made a noise of curiosity.

"Have they got the new equipment in yet?"

"Nope." Irenia raised an eyebrow at him as she triggered the door. "That's why we're here — no one will bother us."

"Ominous," murmured Obi-Wan.

Irenia's statement might have been, but the room wasn't ominous. Imaging Three was just a room — small, medical-white, and mostly empty. The only thing breaking up the bare floor, besides a few wires and crates crammed in the corner, was an improvised medical station. A mobile hospital bed had been pushed into the middle of the room, and beside it stood a hovertable with several sterilized tools neatly laid out and ready.

A basic medical droid of a model Anakin didn't recognize waited there as well, spinning on its cylindrical hover-base as they entered the room. "Good morning, Doctor Mazaar, Mr. Alpha," it said in a cheerful, synthesized voice. "Is this the patient?"

"Nope," Anakin said when it turned to him. "I'm Anakin Skywalker. Pleased to meet you."

"I am pleased to meet you as well, I am sure. I am HM-418, Medical Analysis and Assistance. But I must ask, Doctor Mazaar, why have we prepared for a procedure if there is no patient?"

"Alpha is the patient, Four-Eighteen. Did you get everything I asked for?"

"I believe so, Doctor." The droid's bright, round photoreceptors gave it a constantly wide-eyed look. "Mr. Alpha, my preliminary analysis does not reveal your illness. Shall I undertake more detailed tests?"

"No," said Obi-Wan, staying very far away from both droid and medstation.

"Stand down, he's not sick," said Irenia as she double-checked the supplies on the table. Anakin saw three hyposprays, a sonic scalpel, and several individual packages of something he didn't recognize. From his experience with field medicine, it didn't look like she was expecting to have to do anything too involved.

"Ah, then you are being upgraded. That is excellent."

Giving the droid a quelling look, Irenia said, "Four-Eighteen, hush."

"Very well, I will enter silent mode until further notice," replied Four-Eighteen, a little offended.

"Alpha, get over here and sit down. If everyone cooperates, this should be a quick procedure and we'll know right away if it works."

"So this one has got you believing in his medical miracles?" Obi-Wan paused by the bed and cocked an eyebrow.

"If there is going to be a medical miracle, I fully expect to be the one performing it." Still, Irenia refused to look at Anakin. "And there's no reason to not try every option. Unless you'd rather not regain your memory?"

Irenia's tone was arch, like the question was rhetorical, but it wasn't. Her disquiet whispered in the Force, even as she worked to keep it tightly under control. Was she worried that Anakin would push Obi-Wan into something against his will? He didn't take it personally — she was just looking out for Obi-Wan, which was something Anakin could always get behind.

In any case, the obviously theatrical narrow-eyed look Obi-Wan instantly shot toward Anakin should have reassured her. "So there is a conspiracy here," he declared. "For the last time, yes! That is what I want."

Taking up her post by the instrument table, Irenia gestured at the bed again. "Then I expect you to sit still and behave for me."

Again, white-knuckled tension leaked through her attempt at teasing, and again, Obi-Wan looked at Anakin. This time, he hesitated. Moving closer to the bed, Anakin leaned on it, filling Obi-Wan's space, and shrugged. "Sure. We can do that — right, Master?"

"Sitting still. How hard can it be?" Obi-Wan hoisted himself up onto the bed and sat.

Already, he was clasping his hands together tightly, forcing them to be motionless. Sitting through this was going to be one of the hardest things anyone could ask of him. Anakin shifted so that Obi-Wan's leg touched his own, and grinned at him. "You remember what I promised you, right?"

Fond tolerance filled Obi-Wan's expression, the kind of look you give a child who tells you he's going to be Supreme Chancellor when he grows up — you don't necessarily believe it, but you like hearing it.

"You are only human."

"Not only human," said Anakin. Gently, he coiled a tendril of the Force no thicker than a nanosilk thread around each of Obi-Wan's wrists. Then, as quickly as he had summoned it, Anakin released his grip, letting it fade away. "If you need any help — I got you, Master."

Obi-Wan's eyes had widened, but he took a deep breath and nodded. He seemed to relax a little, but Irenia's watchful attention never left them, and it was time to move on. No point in letting Obi-Wan think for too long about feeling the touch of the Force.

"Should I expect excruciating pain, then?" asked Obi-Wan, as if that had been what Anakin meant. He redirected his own focus far more deftly than Anakin could ever hope to.

It had always frustrated Anakin as a padawan, how Obi-Wan seemed to just be able to just... not think about things if he didn't want to. Why did he get to have executive control of his thoughts, when Anakin's own mind always felt like it was about two minutes away from eating him alive? Now, he only felt profoundly relieved. Turning to Irenia, Anakin made a face like he didn't know the answer to Obi-Wan's question and was curious to find out.

Irenia was holding up her hands for Four-Eighteen to spray down with an aerosol disinfectant. She didn't move, touching nothing until Four-Eighteen produced two transparent membranes from a storage compartment in his midsection and draped them over each of her hands. The droid pinched a gray square in the corner of the membranes and they retracted, molding to Irenia and forming a flexible, sealed, skin-tight glove.

She picked up one of the hyposprays from the tray on the table, and pointed it at Obi-Wan. "Shirt off."

"She didn't answer," said Obi-Wan, pulling his shirt over his head. "That's usually a bad sign."

For a moment, all possible responses evaporated from Anakin's mind. He had seen Obi-Wan injured in countless ways, bleeding and broken, but he had never seen Obi-Wan's ribs standing out like that. It had been obvious that he was thin, but Anakin hadn't noticed before that it was this severe. His skin was pale and translucent, and the solid muscle Anakin was used to seeing had been replaced with hollows and sharp edges.

Anakin barely managed to bite back his dismay, but in the effort he lost the beat of the interaction. When he met Obi-Wan's eyes, his face was blank. Had Obi-Wan said something?

Irenia stepped up to the bed and pressed the hypospray against the line of Obi-Wan's upper back, below where neck and shoulder met. "You shouldn't feel anything but some localized numbness." She flicked the trigger box open with her thumb, and pressed it.

"Ow."

"And the needle, obviously."

Obviously, Obi-Wan mouthed, even though Anakin knew perfectly well that one injection was nothing to him.

"Now don't start whining," said Anakin.

"I don't whine."

"Okay, I'll give you that one. I would say it's more like you gripe."

They had started what might turn into a good round of ribbing, but then Irenia touched the rubber base of her sonic scalpel to Obi-Wan's shoulder, pushing on the skin just next to the the implant's interface. "Feel that?"

"Feel what?" said Obi-Wan.

"Be serious. If you can feel this, you're going to feel it when I cut you."

"I don't feel anything."

Irenia seemed satisfied, but Obi-Wan had turned his head to look at her and the scalpel she was holding above his shoulder. Very deliberately, his hands moved to grip the edge of the bed.

"Hey," said Anakin. He didn't have anything to say, but he needed Obi-Wan's attention on him and not the procedure.

"What?"

"Just wanted you to look at me."

Anakin tossed his hair, striking a pose, and Obi-Wan actually laughed. Anakin couldn't help beaming in response. Obi-Wan's open reactions filled him with warm delight, easily as energizing as the stim shot had been. It hadn't always been like that, had it? He remembered Obi-Wan's wry smiles and quiet amusement, but his master's laugh had been rare.

"What else should I tell you about?" he asked. "I've got some good horror stories about our extremely huge and cutting-edge medbay."

"I'll pass, thank you. What about—" A soft buzz interrupted, unnaturally harsh in the small room, when Irenia turned on the sonic scalpel. Obi-Wan took a long breath, but did not look. "What about your favorite place? You told me about mine."

"Nah, that's privileged information," said Anakin. He could see Irenia make the first cut in his peripheral vision, but he kept his eyes on Obi-Wan's face. The anaesthetic had worked — Obi-Wan didn't react, except for the steady tension that was slowly pulling his body tight. "How about you tell me when you get your memory back."

"That," said Obi-Wan, "is not very nice."

Moving even closer to stand between Obi-Wan's knees, Anakin freed one of his hands from its white-knuckled grip on the bed frame. He laced their fingers together, feeling the familiar calluses on Obi-Wan's palm, and smiled. "I'm not very nice. You'll figure that out too, Master."

"Wrong." Obi-Wan gripped his hand tightly. "You're too nice. I already know."

Anakin swallowed, and didn't know what to say. This was not a situation in which he could afford to be at a loss for words.

"What about the second place, then?"

"Huh?"

"You said the planetarium was one of two places." Obi-Wan was keeping his breathing artificially even using a familiar meditation rhythm, but his face was set in a wince. Rigid strain showed in every one of his muscles.

"Right, yeah. The second place. It's called the Room of a Thousand Fountains," said Anakin. That got Obi-Wan's attention. "Guess how big it is."

"Big enough to fit a thousand fountains?"

"It's kriffing huge. I'm talking ridiculously enormous."

The corner of Obi-Wan's mouth quirked. "Is 'ridiculously enormous' a specific measurement I should know about?"

Good, Anakin thought. He liked that expression a lot better. "I think there's something like seven stories. It's indoors, but it's like walking into a jungle. They probably have every kind of plant in the galaxy, and yeah, a ton of fountains. Probably more than a thousand. You can hear water everywhere you go in there, and you can't even tell where it's coming from half the time. It sounds like it's coming from everywhere."

"Seven stories," murmured Obi-Wan, sounding like he was trying to visualize it.

"I don't know if you've ever been to the Rotunda in the city center here, but it's probably as big as that whole place. There's a whole ecosystem in there — so much life you can almost feel it singing. There are trees taller than any building in this neighborhood, and in the middle of the room there's this huge waterfall and a pool it feeds into. That's where I'd usually find you, when I was looking for you."

Obi-Wan had closed his eyes, a little of the tension leaking away. Taking the chance to sneak a look at Irenia's progress, Anakin found her frustratingly still. HM-418 was shining a bright spotlight on Obi-Wan's shoulder, where Irenia had opened two even cuts, exposing the square-edged side of the implant's interface. Now, though, she was just standing there, holding a flat, circular device to Obi-Wan's back.

"If I didn't find you at the waterfall, though, I'd be in trouble," said Anakin, just talking now. He wouldn't be able to keep this up forever. Irenia needed to get a move on. "There are a million places to get lost in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. You could easily look for someone for hours and not find them. I always thought maybe you liked the plants mostly because your master liked plants — he was famous for his harmony with living things."

Finally, Irenia set aside the circular disk and switched out her sonic scalpel for a different tool. Anakin didn't recognize it, but its head attachment was obviously a nano-level one — much more precise than any sonic tool. As soon as she touched it to Obi-Wan's skin he flinched away hard, movement full of feral violence.

Irenia stopped instantly. "Pain?"

Eyes still squeezed shut, Obi-Wan shook his head. His free hand lifted to press hard against his temple, and his breathing had accelerated. Irenia still hesitated, looking from Anakin to Obi-Wan and then back. "Does anything hurt?" she asked again. "I need you to use words, Alpha."

"Ah—" said Obi-Wan. "Head."

This wasn't working.

Gripping the back of Obi-Wan's head, Anakin pulled him down to his shoulder, hiding his master's face in the crook of his neck. Obi-Wan's arms wrapped around Anakin's waist, hands finding Anakin's belt and clutching it like a lifeline. He pressed his forehead hard against Anakin's shoulder and breathed out, as sharp as a sob. Folding his master as close as he possibly could, Anakin held Obi-Wan and thought fiercely that he would never let go.

"Hey," said Anakin again, keeping his hand curled protectively in Obi-Wan's hair like he could shield him from what his own body was doing. "Hey, we're right here, okay? Remember, I promised you I wouldn't let anything bad happen. I'm right here — there's nothing that can hurt you."

Obi-Wan clung to Anakin and fought a silent war. The chip was telling him that he needed it, that he would die without it, inflaming all Obi-Wan's most primal instincts to fight and protect himself. Could he believe Anakin, when every nerve in his body was screaming of danger? This technology had been made specifically to control people against their will — was this too much to ask?

If anyone could do it, Obi-Wan could.

Don't seize, Anakin thought. Don't let him seize.

"Master, I won't let anything hurt you. There's nothing here that's going to hurt you," he promised and, like a sudden blaze of fire, surrounded Obi-Wan in the Force. He couldn't touch his master's Force signature, so instead he filled the air around him, pushing safety and power and love against his skin. Maybe some subconscious part of Obi-Wan would be able to sense it. "If there was something trying to hurt you, I would be killing it right now. It would already be dead, Master. I'm always going to protect you, trust me, okay?"

Painfully, slowly, Obi-Wan dragged a nod across Anakin's shoulder.

Irenia stood just inches away, frozen and wary. Turning minutely to catch her eye, Anakin mouthed, Go. She recoiled a little, shaking her head. She had opened her mouth, no doubt to dispute, or say they should try again later, but Anakin was not open to negotiation.

Eyes narrowing, Anakin centered a hard knot of the Force between Irenia's shoulder blades and shoved.

She spun in surprise, finding no one behind her, and then turned back to Anakin, a kaleidoscope of emotion — fear, shock, rage — bursting around her. It was the smallest, most minimal use of the Force, but Irenia's face became stone. She looked at him like she was seeing him for the first time, and her eyes were icy with betrayal.

Anakin tilted his head meaningfully, and she stepped back to the bed. Stiff-jawed, she lifted the nano-tool and began an incision from the implant on Obi-Wan's shoulder down over his shoulder blade. At the first touch, Obi-Wan's body stiffened again and he tugged sharply where he had ahold of Anakin's belt.

"It's okay, Master. I'm right here, we're fine. I got you," Anakin murmured, running fingers through Obi-Wan's hair. He had attuned so carefully to Obi-Wan that he experienced every slight change like it was his own body. The moment Obi-Wan's hands started to shake, he felt it.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan whispered, hoarse. "I need you."

"I'm here," Anakin said again, and locked the Force around Obi-Wan's arms, immobilizing him.

If Obi-Wan had access to the Force he might have been able to fight the hold, but even then it wasn't guaranteed that he would have been able to break free. Anakin had always been strong. He winced as Obi-Wan strained against the invisible restraint, but then felt Obi-Wan relax. A soft sigh puffed against his skin.

"Okay?" he asked.

Obi-Wan didn't respond, and Anakin concentrated on filling the Force with all the calm serenity he could possibly summon. He took a deep breath, wondering how long either of them could keep this up.

Then the galaxy detonated inside Anakin's head.

He reeled, for blinding moments stripped from his body and drowned in a torrent of foreign sensation. Memories that were not his own tumbled one after the other. Screams. A ragged clone voice gasping in his ear, "General — go!" He was dragged through Jabiim in out-of-order flashes, then places he didn't recognize except through Obi-Wan's impressions. The thought I need to pull back lasted for an instant before it was overwhelmed and swept away. Anakin tried to dig in, get a grip on something, anything, but the flood was too strong.

A memory lingered for a beat, filling all of his senses like he was drowning in it. Only a moment, but Anakin had time to recognize that he was looking at himself in a bed — the Halls of Healing. His eyes were closed, dramatic dark circles hollowing the space under them, and the empty stump of his right hand lay on top of the blanket. The ache of sorrow and horror that accompanied this stunned Anakin as Obi-Wan's recollections overpowered his own. He could remember a time when he would have denied that his master was capable of feeling anything so strongly.

He remembered waking up in that same bed, finding Obi-Wan sitting beside him. He had discovered his prosthetic, and rediscovered his mother's death. He remembered screaming at Obi-Wan, crying in his arms. Anakin would never forget that day.

It was enough to kick him out of the feedback loop.

Returning to his body again, the second time in several hours, was a painful process. His master was shaking in his arms, face still buried in Anakin's neck, hands snarled so tightly in the back of Anakin's tunic that he was pretty sure it was about to rip. Obi-Wan's mind was the maelstrom Anakin had just escaped from.

"Sith," he said. It was all he had time for before he went back in.

Dropping his forehead against Obi-Wan's hair, Anakin closed his eyes. This time, instead of diving right into the middle of the meltdown like he'd done before, he sank into the greater Force. Like an inhaled breath, Anakin gathered its light and strength to himself, and searched for the familiar path in to Obi-Wan. For all the countless times they had meditated together, all the time they'd spent living side by side, Anakin had never experienced the full power of Obi-Wan's connection to the Force.

It was kriffing blinding.

It took far longer than it should have to locate the frayed pathway of their training bond, despite (or perhaps because of) the fact that Obi-Wan was completely unshielded. As soon as Anakin touched it the bond ignited, as if it resented having been so prematurely cut. The ripple created in the chaos by the bond was minor, but enough to give Anakin a foothold.

In a moment, he rallied all his focus, and thought about safety.

Anakin pressing images and feelings through the bond. He thought about Dex's and the last time he'd been there with Obi-Wan before the war started, about his work room at the Temple and the comforting sprawl of droid parts. He dusted off old memories of crawling into Obi-Wan's bed as a child after a nightmare, and focused on the feeling of landing a speeder on Padme's balcony after months of deployment. Anakin knew it was working when Obi-Wan began to help him, adding memories of the Room of a Thousand Fountains, someone's strong hand guiding his own on a practice 'saber, and a surprising one that seemed to be teenaged Anakin sound asleep on Obi-Wan's shoulder.

The storm had quieted somewhat, but Anakin could still sense the twisting fractures in Obi-Wan's Force signature. At the very least, he would need hours upon hours of meditation, and to rebuild his destroyed shields from the ground up. That would come later, though. Now that he'd coaxed Obi-Wan to focus on him, open to him, Anakin concentrated on offering him a tempting sleep suggestion.

A skilled healer could do this without a bond and with an unwilling subject. Anakin was not a skilled healer.

He held his breath when Obi-Wan briefly fought — because Obi-Wan always had to fight — but his master was halfway to being catatonic already. Obi-Wan's hands slipped from Anakin's tunic as his traumatized brain yielded to the urge to shut down for a while, and relief dragged out of Anakin in the form of a sigh. It was simple, from there, to deepen the sleep a little more.

Suddenly exhausted himself, Anakin dropped a kiss on top of Obi-Wan's head. His hair was mussed and damp with sweat. "Nothing is ever easy with you, is it?"

Unconscious, of course Obi-Wan didn't answer, but the bond glowed with steady warmth between them even as Anakin pulled away, disentangling himself from his master's mind and retreating back behind his own shields. The distance returned Anakin's awareness of the rest of the Force, and that was when he remembered Irenia.

She stood several paces back from the table, face white and eyes dark with alarm. Her right hand still clutched the nano-tool.

"Uh," said Anakin, finding his voice raw and hoarse, "you wanna finish taking it out now?"

"Is he—"

"He's fine. Well, he'll be fine."

Irenia moved closer and carefully checked Obi-Wan's pulse anyway. "Did he seize?" she asked, still calm and matter-of-fact despite the intensity Anakin could sense behind her doctor's mask.

"No. He— Well. I did something stupid."

Anakin wasn't sure how to explain that not only had he not been prepared for the backlash reconnecting to the Force after more than a year would cause. He had also been recklessly smothering Obi-Wan so closely that he had accidentally been caught in it when the dam broke, and nearly unable to help himself, much less Obi-Wan. He was glad that Irenia wasn't a Force sensitive, or she would no doubt have something to say about his truly incredible lack of forethought.

"I didn't think about the psychic effect of releasing something that was suppressed for so long. The Force — it felt like a bomb went off." He tried to shrug, knowing she couldn't understand, but he was still holding Obi-Wan and it didn't really work.

Expressionless, Irenia asked, "Are you all right?"

"What?"

Her eyebrows arched, and she gestured at his face. When Anakin managed to free a hand — his real one — he touched his cheeks and found them damp with tears he didn't remember shedding. Scrubbing briefly at his face, he said, "Uh. Yeah. I'm fine."

Irenia looked at him for a long moment, and then at Obi-Wan. Very obviously, she folded everything away and refocused. Two bright spots of tension appeared on her cheeks and she took a deep breath, declaring, "I'm not doing this."

"Doing what?"

"This isn't safe. We need to find another way to deactivate the implant." Pointedly, she dropped the nano-tool back onto the tray. Anakin could taste her fear in the Force, but what was she afraid of? He didn't even know what she was talking about. "You can do what you want to me, but I can't continue the procedure under these conditions. If trying to deactivate the implant once caused a reaction like that—"

"The chip is already deactivated. It's dead," said Anakin, frowning. "All you have to do is remove the hardware."

There was a pause where Irenia's mouth opened a little, but no words came out. She blinked and, even though she was bright with emotion in the Force, still managed to give no outward sign of anything but mild surprise. "It worked?"

"Yup."

Softly, she asked, "He remembers?"

Anakin nodded, Obi-Wan's hair tickling his chin. "Yeah. He'll sleep, and then wake up, and when he wakes up he'll be himself."

There was nothing else to say.

The silence was a shadowy weight bearing down on Irenia's shoulders, growing steadily heavier as she worked. Her movements were automatic but fitful as she removed the implant's hardware, reminding Anakin of the way droids acted when their joints needed oiling. After being deactivated, the implant itself was easy to extract; according to Neo's readout, it could be made to self-disengage, so that it could be reused on another slave if the first slave died.

Thrifty, those Zygerrians.

Anakin rested his head on top of Obi-Wan's and closed his eyes as he waited. While Irenia sprayed dermaseal over Obi-Wan's incisions and then covered them with a bandage, Anakin drifted in the Force.

For the first time in a long, long time, his bond with Obi-Wan was burning there in its place, alive and glowing with their connection. Anakin had thought he'd never feel that again, and the temptation to bask there was almost impossible to resist. For once, though, Anakin stayed inside his own mind. With everything that had already happened today, it wouldn't be smart to start pushing himself into delicate places. Besides, Obi-Wan wasn't exactly in great shape either.

He slept, but not like a Jedi.

Part of the mind's natural self-organization, as babies grew and learned what it was to be a person, was the unconscious erection of Force shields. As a baby learned about itself as an individual being, separate from other beings, that understanding began to create natural barriers as a part of the mind's inherent structure. Even animals had some level of natural Force shielding, and non-Force-sensitives had them in varying strengths, depending on the person.

Jedi took this to another level, learning a control over their own connection to the greater universe that other beings could never achieve, through the lowering or strengthening of various types of Force shields.

Different Jedi kept different habitual levels of shielding and usually, Obi-Wan's had been on the stronger end of the scale. Anakin had always been able to sense spillover of his master's thoughts and feelings through their bond, but anyone without a bond would not have been able to sense much that Obi-Wan wasn't allowing them to. Even during sleep, it had been normal for Anakin to feel little more than Obi-Wan's peaceful presence in the other room.

Now, it was like Obi-Wan had no shields at all.

Anakin didn't have much experience with babies, but he guessed that this unformed, nebulous give-and-take might be similar to how a Force-sensitive newborn might interact with the energies of their surroundings. As Obi-Wan slept, a soft eddy of sensation and feeling flowed from him into the Force, and he had no defenses against the influence of others. Already, his quiet glow was darkening, disturbed by the tendrils of anxiety Irenia was giving off.

Absently, Anakin warded those away.

It couldn't have been easy, being cut off from both the Force and his identity for so long. The reintegration had certainly been violent. Obi-Wan would have a lot of rebuilding to do.

"Done," said Irenia, flat and weary.

Anakin blinked at her and then nodded. For a moment, he just held Obi-Wan, feeling his master's steady, even breathing. He didn't want to let go. Tracing the bond, warm and strong in the back of his mind, Anakin realized that he didn't have to. Nothing could take Obi-Wan from him now.

Gently, holding Obi-Wan's head, he stepped back and lowered his master's body down onto the bed. Anakin looked for Obi-Wan's familiar scars — the newer lines on his arms, neck, and under his chin from Ventress, and the many older ones from other places — convincing himself that even though Obi-Wan looked gray and small against the white sheets, his breathing was regular and the life inside him was strong. He was whole. He would heal.

Anakin gave Obi-Wan's hand one last squeeze, and then let go.