"How long will he sleep?" Irenia asked.

"I'm not sure," Anakin said. At the Temple, they would have put Obi-Wan into a healing trance, but Anakin was absolutely not going to attempt that. "It could be hours, or days."

"And when he wakes up?"

Anakin shrugged. "He's fine, physically. His memories are there. The only thing I'm not sure about is the Force implications of what he's been through, but they'll be able to take care of him at the Jedi Temple."

"If that's what he wants."

That wasn't really worth dignifying with an answer, so Anakin didn't. Irenia pressed a hand to her temple and let out a sigh that sounded like it came from the very tips of her toes. "Four-Eighteen, please move Alpha to one of the non-intensive care rooms. I think Blue Wing has some empty beds. Give him fluids and monitor his vital signs."

"I will do that immediately, Doctor Mazaar," said the droid.

Four-Eighteen moved the bed toward the door, and Anakin followed Obi-Wan automatically for a few steps before pausing. He needed to comm— everyone. Master Plo specifically. They had to change all their plans. The thought was suddenly exhausting. But it would probably be better not to have that conversation in the room with Obi-Wan and risk waking him.

Anakin let them leave, but tracked Obi-Wan in the bond even as he moved further away, like keeping one hand securely on your credit pouch in a shifting crowd.

As Anakin searched for his comm among the unreasonably numerous pockets on his utility belt, Irenia pressed her hands together in front of her face. She covered her mouth and nose, and just breathed into the tiny space for a long moment. Finally, she said, "I shouldn't have done that."

"What?" Anakin found his comm, finally. He had a couple messages from Ahsoka, but they were just time updates. No one had pinged him with any diatribes about his irresponsible absence yet.

"I shouldn't have done that," Irenia repeated, louder. "We should have found another way."

When Anakin looked up, he found her carefully built screen of composure in the midst of collapse. Everything she had kept back and pushed away to focus during the emergency was now threatening to overwhelm her. "It worked," he said simply.

"It was wrong! It was his choice, not ours. I shouldn't have taken that away."

"When he wakes up, he'll thank you."

Irenia made a scoffing noise.

"Sometimes," said Anakin, "people need help to make the right choice."

"Oh, yes, and I suppose you always know what the right choice is. How kind of you, to help out like that." Her eyes were full of cold rage. "How old are you anyway? Twenty-five at the most? And yet you know everything worth knowing in the whole galaxy."

"I have much still to learn. But I know that leaving that implant in would have been wrong."

"Not giving Alpha a choice was wrong! Not giving me— And about that— How dare you threaten me? I thought the Jedi were supposed to be protectors, not thugs! But I suppose you were just helping me to make the right choice?"

"Yes," retorted Anakin, angry now. "I was, actually!"

"What gives you the right to act like the king of the kriffing galaxy! You're not going to give him a choice about whether to go with you to Coruscant, either, are you?"

"Obi-Wan can do whatever the hell he wants! But if that's what you're upset about, you'd better get used to it, because for him there is no choice. Trust me."

"If you truly care about him, you wouldn't force him—"

"I'm not forcing anyone into anything. I just know Obi-Wan," said Anakin, "and you don't."

She pressed her hand over her mouth, unable to speak. Forcing his shoulders to relax, Anakin expelled his crackling aggression into the Force with a harsh exhale. Why was he wasting energy on this?

Coldly, Anakin said, "Excuse me. I have arrangements to make."

He left and Irenia, tears in her eyes, stood alone in an empty room.

Anakin found Obi-Wan again easily — he was not far away, and the bond led him there like a homing beacon.

He had been transferred into a proper, bigger bed in a vacant room, and Four-Eighteen was able to tell Anakin that all his vital signs were within normal ranges. Satisfied that all was well, Anakin stepped out again. There was a small waiting room outside, essentially just two benches set into the wall, and no one was there, so Anakin took the opportunity to sit down for a minute. He leaned his head back against the wall, and closed his eyes.

He kept going back over the things Irenia had said to him, and new anger welled up each time just as fast as he could release it to the Force. She had no idea what she was talking about. She had practically called him as bad as Ventress! Ridiculous. Everything Anakin did, he did so that Obi-Wan could be healthy. So that Obi-Wan could be safe. Ventress had only ever meant to harm and destroy — there was no comparison! Digging through the conversation again and again was pointless, and he knew it was pointless, but the mental loop was difficult to escape.

Stop it, he told himself. Just stop.

Anakin couldn't outrun the knowledge that he was tired anymore.

Obi-Wan was safe, and the constant thrumming momentum that had kept him moving up until now was about to run out. If Neo was right, he was about to hit a wall, and hit it very hard. He had one thing he had to do before that happened, but Anakin didn't want to do it.

He wanted Padme.

She was the one person he wanted to share the news with first. Padme would be so happy to hear that Obi-Wan was alive; Anakin knew she would enter into his joy so fully that it would become her own. He ached to comm her, to hear her voice and know that he could relax, but that was impossible. He had a lot of other people to talk to first.

Lifting his comm, Anakin clicked it on and set it to page Master Plo.

Several long minutes passed before any answer came.

"Skywalker?" Master Plo's deep rumble startled Anakin out of the shallow daze he had drifted into. "My apologies, I was warned to expect a high-priority communication from you, but we just concluded the public announcement of our troop withdrawal."

"No worries, Master."

"I am sure your absence greatly disappointed many HoloNet journalists. Should I assume you have something to report?"

Anakin sat up, double-checking on his bond with Obi-Wan just in case, and then said, "Yes, I do. Master Plo, I discovered that Obi-Wan is alive."

Absolute silence filled the comm line.

In the background, Ahsoka's faint voice could be heard. "Uh oh, I think he's finally cracked. Commander Neo told us it was going to happen."

"Please repeat that? I'm not sure the message came through fully," said Master Plo.

Anakin sighed. "Obi-Wan Kenobi, my former master, missing in action and presumed dead at the beginning of the war, is not dead. He's alive, and he's here on Centares. And no, Ahsoka, I'm not cracked. Not yet, anyway."

"Anakin, when did you discover this?"

"Yesterday, during the sweep for that traitor."

"Why didn't you call it in immediately?"

"It's... complicated," said Anakin. "He had amnesia, Master Plo. He didn't remember being a Jedi."

"Had?"

"Yeah. Like I said — complicated. Some medical stuff happened. I think his memory is back, but he's unconscious and hasn't woken up yet. I'm sending you my coordinates."

"I'm on my way," Master Plo said instantly, and signed off before Anakin even sent the coordinates.

He set his comm to ping his location, and went to wait for them outside the front of the clinic. Leaning up against the wall, he watched the uneven traffic of people going in and out of the clinic, and the speeders driving by. He had expected Master Plo to arrive in some kind of native Centares vehicle like he had used, so Anakin was taken aback when a LAAT/i decided to land in the middle of the street.

All speeder traffic ground to a halt as the road was blocked, people stopping and staring in alarm at the massive gunship descending into a space definitely not meant to accommodate massive gunships. One mother, just coming out of the clinic, took one look at the LAAT/i, grabbed her child's hand, and ran back in.

The bay door slid open, and Master Plo stepped out of the ship. Anakin had meant to ask him not to bring Ahsoka, but he'd forgotten during the comm call, so she had obviously tagged along as well. Ahsoka made a beeline straight for Anakin, ignoring the fact that everyone on the block was silently staring at them, while Master Plo gave the growing clusters of spectators a casual wave. The LAAT/i lifted off again, spiraling theatrically into the air before rocketing off at an almost certainly unnecessary speed.

Anakin, an expert on the subject, was sure the pilot was having way too much fun.

"So, uh, I guess keeping a low profile is out?"

"Bold words from the guy who blew up an asteroid this morning," said Ahsoka.

"I drove a speeder bike here. You know, like a normal person."

"We prioritized speed," said Master Plo.

From across the street, a Pantoran girl cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, "ARE YOU ANAKIN SKYWALKER?" before being promptly strangled by her embarrassed friend.

Sighing, Anakin waved at her. "Let's go inside."

"Before they start asking you for autographs." Ahsoka smirked, but followed him as closely as his own shadow. She stuck by his side, Master Plo following a few steps behind, and looked up at him. In a careful murmur, she asked, "Did you really find Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

"Yeah, I really did." Anakin gave her a tired half grin and Ahsoka smiled back, banked energy animating even the air around her.

"You okay?"

"Honestly I'm wiped out, Snips," Anakin admitted. He stopped when they were back in the small waiting area and gestured at the door to Obi-Wan's room. "He's in there, sleeping. It was this slave implant, suppressing his memories the whole time. Ventress — we thought he was killed, but she captured him."

"Ventress was here?" Ahsoka's hand dropped to her 'saber. "We thought she was on the run from Dooku!"

"What? No, this was back when I was a padawan. Why would Ventress be running from Dooku?"

"We received an intelligence report a few hours ago. Our suspicions of infighting among the Separatists were correct. Their forces are massed over Dathomir, engaging in what seems to be some kind of conflict between Ventress and Grievous," explained Master Plo.

"So Ventress is no longer a Sep."

Disappointing. Anakin had been looking forward to killing her the next time they met.

"It's really too soon to know what the outcome will be, or how long the infighting will last, which is why moving out as per our current orders is somewhat urgent. Perhaps, Anakin," said Master Plo gently. "You could start by explaining what happened yesterday."

"Yeah. Right." Anakin shook himself a little. Focus. "So. After I captured that consular, I sensed something weird in the market—"

Haltingly, piece by piece, Anakin explained how he had found Obi-Wan, about his missing memories, and the implant. Master Plo and Ahsoka listened carefully, Ahsoka clearly mentally fitting each detail of his story to his odd behavior over the past days. He described his theory about what Ventress had done to Obi-Wan, and then the psychic repercussions Obi-Wan had experienced when the chip was taken out.

"He was cut off from the Force this whole time?" Ahsoka asked, quietly horrified.

"As far as I could tell. I couldn't sense him at all, no more than I could a droid."

Master Plo crossed his arms in thought. "You are concerned that he may suffer some serious negative effects?"

"I have no idea." Anakin shrugged. "I know the blowback was dramatic. After spending so long with that implant messing with everything, I'd be surprised if he just jumped up like it never happened, wouldn't you? I want to take him to the Temple as soon as possible."

"I agree."

Someone cleared their throat, a presence Anakin hadn't noticed suddenly intruding on his sluggish senses, and Master Plo turned pleasantly to the man who had joined them in the small waiting room. "Hello," said the man. He was maybe ten years older than Obi-Wan, dark-haired, and looked vaguely familiar. Had Anakin seen him before in the hallways on the way in? "You must be the Jedi that just landed? My name is Arthalan Rho. I'm a doctor here at the clinic."

Master Plo and Ahsoka bowed, Anakin just a beat behind them. He knew he had seen this man before.

"So our Alpha is a Jedi? That's something none of us ever expected to hear, I'm sure. What good news, that Irenia was able to treat his memory loss after all!" Rho smiled and Anakin, still stuck on racking his brain, felt it when Ahsoka's instincts turned suspicious. "He has been a very good friend — I can't wait to congratulate him once he's awake."

"Oh," Anakin said. "I saw you last night. With that kid."

He turned his blandly cordial expression toward Anakin. "Hm? Yes, I think we may have run into each other outside the clinic. I don't think I caught your name?"

"Irenia sent you."

"Sent me? What for?" Roh raised an eyebrow.

There was seemingly no filter left between Anakin's thoughts and his mouth. Before he could even run the decision through any kind of quality control, he had blurted, "To stop us from leaving."

"Of course not. I know you will have to leave once Alpha awakens. The war obviously doesn't wait."

"No, it doesn't," said Master Plo. "In fact, we are deploying within the hour."

"Oh. With Alpha?"

Roh's face showed a heavy-handed facsimile of surprise, and Anakin's hands clenched into fists. He thought he was going to manipulate them, force them to accommodate his agenda? This guy could never even keep up with a real negotiator — Obi-Wan would run circles around him.

"There is no reason to wait. The Grand Army of the Republic is fully able to provide any necessary medical attention to an equal or greater standard than what Centares can offer."

Ahsoka subtly reached out for Anakin, wrapping her fingers around the wrist of his durasteel hand. He turned to look at her, confused, and she offered him an encouraging prod in the Force, which was stained with dark splashes of anger. Anakin blinked. Were those coming from him?

"I'm afraid that won't be possible. Until Alpha is stabilized and conscious, we can't clear him to travel."

"Kriff your clearance," said Anakin.

Ahsoka's hand tightened around his wrist, and Master Plo glanced at him with displeasure. What? They didn't need anybody's authority to do anything. They were Jedi, and this planet was under Republic military authority.

Roh ignored him, addressing Master Plo. "Surely, Master Jedi, you can understand that, until Alpha awakens, we have only your word that he is one of you at all. This clinic has no claim over your actions, but the government of Centares does. This planet is a free, independent, democratic world — it wouldn't do any good to the Republic's reputation if the Jedi were to be seen abducting residents of Muracie against their will."

"Free and kriffing independent because of me," Anakin snarled. "Otherwise you'd be free as a damn firebird to watch your planet choke to death under Separatist occupation."

"Your entrance to this neighborhood already caused quite the commotion," said Roh, as if Anakin hadn't spoken at all. "I doubt it would take very much more to get the attention of the media."

"Well, fierfek." Anakin shook his hand free of Ahsoka's grip, crossing his arms and turning to Master Plo sarcastically. Roh was in way over his head if he thought he could scare them with oblique threats. "Too bad we missed one of the Sep comm stations in our sweep, but I guess it's good we haven't left yet. Who would have suspected this clinic of being a front for traitors?"

That shattered Roh's false calm. "How dare you—"

"Knight Skywalker," said Master Plo, "you will restrain yourself, or you will remove yourself from this discussion."

Anakin did not intend to do either of those things.

"Master," Ahsoka interjected, tugging urgently on his sleeve. "Hey, Master, why don't we go see Obi-Wan?"

"Ahsoka—"

"Come on, don't you want to see him?"

Like an ancient, rusted machine, Anakin's brain turned over very slowly, probably accompanied by some unpleasant screeching noises and a lot of smoke.

Input: Obi-Wan?

Output: Of course. Yes.

Input: Leave this conversation?

Output: Um... no.

"Please, Master?" Ahsoka begged, looking quickly from him to Master Plo and back again. "We should make sure he's okay, don't you think?"

Was Obi-Wan not okay? Ahsoka pulled on his tunic again, and Anakin followed her.

The walk to the door of Obi-Wan's room seemed to require an enormous feat of dexterity, and Anakin concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Ahsoka punched the door release and then waited for him, worry painting her gray in the Force. When he reached her, she pulled his arm around her shoulders and wrapped her own arm around his waist.

"There," she said.

It was easier to walk like this.

Four-Eighteen was still in Obi-Wan's room, activating from dormancy when his motion sensors detected their presence. When the door swished shut behind them, a dusky silence seemed to cut them off from the rest of the galaxy. Here the light was soft and ambient, given off by a glowing line that ran along the base of each wall — dim enough to not bother any recovering patients, while still allowing doctors to see.

Obi-Wan lay on his back in the large bed, head turned to the side and hair haphazardly disarrayed. As they approached, Anakin let go of Ahsoka and instead steadied himself with his hands on the bed. The vague thought that it was good Obi-Wan was still asleep surfaced in his mind. He would have hated being looked at like this. As Anakin watched, his master's eyelids fluttered and he moved slightly, arching his neck as though trying to escape an unpleasant sensation.

"His sleep is troubled," Ahsoka whispered.

"Yeah. This place is full of people. I've been trying to keep up a shield..."

"Actually, I think it's you, Skyguy."

"Me?" Anakin hadn't thought to try to shield Obi-Wan from himself.

"Yeah, you said he's totally unshielded, right? You need to damp down your power core if you're going to get angry like that."

Anakin nodded, and then was overpowered by a jaw-cracking yawn.

Shaking her head, Ahsoka said, "What am I saying? You're about to keel over. What you need to do is sleep."

This, Anakin had to admit, was also very true.

"Well, if we're going to be here for a while, I'll go see if they can find another bed to bring in here. You don't want to go back to HQ to sleep, do you?"

"I'm not leaving Obi-Wan."

"That's what I thought. I'm not even sure you could make it all the way back anyway," Ahsoka muttered to herself. "Wait here, okay, Master? I'm going to find another bed, or at least a chair or something."

Again, Anakin nodded, only vaguely absorbing what she was saying. He was listening to the indistinct purrs of thought and sensation that Obi-Wan's sleeping mind gave off. He wasn't exactly dreaming, but Anakin could sense imprints of situations and images drifting through his consciousness. They were like the shapes left behind by something pressed against a misted glass — oddly inverse and fragmented, but still distinctly there. He thought he might recognize a few of them, but most were completely foreign.

Anakin knew his master better than anyone alive, and yet in the months immediately following Obi-Wan's death, he had wondered whether he had known Obi-Wan at all. Obi-Wan had always kept so much to himself. When he died, Anakin had met Jedi he'd never seen before who called themselves Obi-Wan's lifelong friends. Had Obi-Wan meant to keep secrets too, or did it just not occur to him to share things like that with his padawan?

What would Anakin do if Obi-Wan woke up, and still didn't recognize him?

"Master," said Anakin, just to say it. He was so tired.

Anakin fought to keep his body from drooping. He had to wait for Ahsoka, who was— wait. Had she said she was going to get a bed? Why would she do that? There was a perfectly good bed right here already, and it was obviously big enough.

He squinted, thinking hard, and finally decided that Ahsoka must have been confused.

Slowly, Anakin managed to keep one hand on the mattress, reach down to pull his boot off with the other, and also not fall down. The other boot was more of a struggle, not wanting to let go of his foot for some reason, but it had to be done. Obi-Wan hated it when he wore shoes on the bed. Finally, after many fumbles, he succeeded and both boots lay toppled on the floor.

"Four-Eighteen, do you think you could line up my boots?"

"That is not my function. I am an HM Medical Assistant Unit, not a housekeeping droid."

"Please?"

The droid wasn't programmed to be able to sigh, but it might as well have been. "...Fine."

"Thanks." Anakin yawned again and climbed up onto the bed, mumbling, "Scoot over, Master."

Obi-Wan was under the blankets, but that seemed like a lot of unnecessary effort to Anakin. Digging in on his side next to Obi-Wan, Anakin sprawled easily. One of his legs covered one of Obi-Wan's, and he wrapped his left arm over Obi-Wan's chest. A surefire way to get warm, even without blankets, Anakin remembered from his childhood.

The last time he had done this, he'd been a lot smaller, but that was okay. His head still fit just right under Obi-Wan's chin, tucked between neck and shoulder. The implant bandage scratched at Anakin's cheek, but Obi-Wan didn't seem to mind. He didn't awaken — if anything, his sleep deepened when Anakin relaxed into their bond and closed his eyes. The hazy churn of Obi-Wan's mind slowed, and Anakin felt the liquid warmth of their connection fill every inch of him like internal sunlight.

Force shielding is overrated anyway, Anakin thought, and then dropped over a steep cliff into unconsciousness.