A/N: I originally had two chapters to post, only to realize one was SO short it barely qualified. So here there are in one.

Ch. 16: "Only You Can Save Me" - Backstreet Boys, Drowning

Qui-Gon slowed his transport when the narrow canyon he traveled in widened to a bowl. He could see a few buildings, all of them looking the same, weather beaten but sturdy. The Force directed him to one of them as people boiled out of the door, some on their feet and leaning on others, a couple wheeled out on medical couches. All of them looked terrified, and he could feel it in the Force. Qui-Gon parked haphazardly and strode toward the building they'd all come from, where he assumed they'd put his Padawan. The panic coming from there had the feel of Obi-Wan, and he wanted to stop it before figuring out what had happened.

"Wait!" someone called to him, and grabbed his arm. He turned to look at the Hanani woman, her eyes wide in fear. She didn't tug at his arm, but he could see what it took for her not to. "You can't go in there."

"What happened?" Qui-Gon asked gently. He didn't pull free, not wanting to hurt her.

"One of the patients went crazy. A young man caught in one of the worst rock slides we've seen in this generation. He got off his couch and away from the medic watching him, pushed us all away, and crawled into one of the machines." She gulped. "And then all hell broke loose." She shuddered. "Everyone wanted out of there."

Qui-Gon nodded. "Is he in there alone?"

She shook her head. "No. Malit is in there. She's best able to handle him since she didn't seem to be affected. If she can sedate him, we can get these settled in again." She gestured at the patients and staff huddled against the building a fair distance away.

Qui-Gon carefully took her hand from his arm. "I will be able to help," he said. "Keep them as quiet as you can."

He left her still protesting, but she wouldn't come any closer, and entered the building. He swept past the empty front desk to where he could feel the panic heavy in the force.

The room looked like a windstorm had swept through. Curtains hung half off the rods, couches missing - probably those outside with patients - or askew in their alcoves. Tall trays on wheels had fallen over, spilling their contents across the floor. Some of the equipment had been moved from against the wall and stood haphazardly in the middle of the room, scrape marks and clean floor showing where they'd been moved from. One machine, large and heavy, stood against the wall, a familiar foot sticking out of the cupboard in the bottom. An Equani female with light brown fur stood close to him, one paw on one of the still-standing trays that stood between her and the machine that appeared to be the center of the mess. She held a hypo-spray half-concealed in her other paw.

Qui-Gon looked closer at his Padawan's foot, managing to make out a stabilizer on that leg, the other pulled to his chest. His left arm rested on the stabilized leg, hand up as if in defense. Panic rolled off him in waves, battering Qui-Gon's shields. Now he understood the panic outside the clinic. He stepped toward Obi-Wan, and the Equani female threw out her arm to stop him. "Don't get any closer," she said, her voice low, a growly undercurrent to her speech. She didn't take her eyes off Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon stopped. "I may be able to help," he said.

She looked at him, and recognition sparked in her deep-set eyes. "Master Jedi. He's terrified," she explained, looking back at Obi-Wan. "I don't know what happened, but I can't get any closer than this."

"I understand," Qui-Gon said. "Would you allow me to work with him alone?"

Her voice dropped to a near whisper, her words difficult to make out. "Wouldn't it be better to work together, to make it easier to overpower him?"

"I don't plan to try to overpower him," Qui-Gon said. "That might make it worse. I would rather you not get hurt while trying to help him. The patients outside are terrified and will need your expertise. I will try to talk him out."

The Equani - the medic outside had called her Malit - hesitated. "Are you sure you can handle him?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "And I was not here at the onset of this occurrence. He may be able to tell."

She didn't look convinced, so he waited with at least outward patience. While he did, he extended his Force sense toward his Padawan. What came back to him alarmed him. His health seemed to fail as he stood there, something beyond just the broken bones and bruises. He wanted the Equani out of there. After what felt like forever, she nodded sharply. "I will be right outside the door, should you need assistance."

Qui-Gon bowed. "Thank you," he said.

She set the hypo-spray on the tray in front of her, and turned to leave. That tray moved, jerking suddenly to a stop when she opened the door. Qui-Gon waited until she closed the door again. "Obi-Wan," he said gently. "What happened?"

He got no answer. Qui-Gon stepped forward, projecting his own Force presence toward his Padawan. At the first step, the wheeled tray swooped drunkenly over to block his way. "I will not hurt you," Qui-Gon said as he stopped moving, but realized he could not get through his Padawan that way. For some reason, Obi-Wan didn't hear or didn't trust anything spoken. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Qui-Gon unblocked the bond he'd had to block to keep going, and accessed it.

Obi-Wan stood in the small 'fresher in his room on the initiate floor, hair still damp from washing, plaiting his braid. He didn't have much left to do, only one or two more markers to wrap, when the door opened. He hadn't noticed that Master Denk had arrived yet, but there he stood in the mirror, looking angry. Of course, he often looked angry, especially when he came into Obi-Wan's room and didn't find his Padawan ready. With a nod, Obi-Wan acknowledged his Master, and went on with the markers, fingers moving faster as he tried to keep his Master from waiting too long, afraid of what might happen if he did.

To his surprise, the image in the mirror began to flicker, both his and his Master's. He didn't stop what he did, watching as Master Denk flickered with Master Jinn, his own braid growing longer and himself aging. Eventually, the flickering slowed, settling on Master Jinn, and he wound the black marker onto his braid that he'd gotten because of his year out of the Temple.

"Come, Padawan," Master Jinn's voice said gently. "It is time you left this place."

With a jerk, Obi-Wan opened his eyes, squinting painfully to try to clear his vision. The dark around him helped shield him from the light further out, but he couldn't figure out where he was. "M-master?" he called hesitantly.

Immediately, shields formed around his mind, blocking out the pain and worry from alien minds, and Master Jinn's presence eased more of the hurt. "Yes, Padawan. I am here."

Obi-Wan started to scoot toward the light and his Master's voice, trying to find his way out. Qui-Gon's hand grasped his, and he gently pulled Obi-Wan into the light. He cringed and covered his eyes as Qui-Gon got him to his feet and leaned Obi-Wan against him. "What happened?" Obi-Wan asked.

"That's what I was going to ask you, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, amusement threading through his worry.

Obi-Wan stared at him, wishing he could see his Master's face clearer. "I don't…" He furrowed his brow. "The little girl," he said slowly. "She was on the… hill. Kept moving away from me. Something… the whole thing came down on us when I caught up to her. I got her," he said, thinking through the fractured memories. "Protected her, got her to the bottom. And then…." He shook his head, wincing because that hurt and made the blurry room spin. "And then you were here."

"Your shields collapsed not too long before I got here," Qui-Gon told him gently. "Can you stand on your own?"

He thought he'd felt bad before, but as soon as he tried to step away from Qui-Gon, he slumped harder against him. "I really don't feel well," he said.

"Perhaps a medic can help," Qui-Gon said, and before Obi-Wan could quite understand what he'd said, his Master waved the door open and called to someone outside.

That someone joined them seconds later, furry fingers gentle on his face but forcing his eyes open. He couldn't pull away from her. "That looks…." The growly voice broke off. "Get him on one of the couches. I need to look something up."

Whatever Obi-Wan leaned against shifted (wait, he knew who that was), then carefully lifted him up. The movement made his head spin more than it already did, and he clenched his eyes shut and gripped the cloth under his hand. The movement as… his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, right, lowered him to the bed didn't stop it. His stabilized leg had begun to hurt, but he couldn't make his mouth work to say anything. The cloth came out of his hand, and for a horrid instant he thought Qui-Gon had left. He tried to get up and go after him.

"Easy, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, and he rested his hand on Obi-Wan's arm. That calmed Obi-Wan, comforted him, and his panic eased.

"Here," the growly voice said, the one with furry fingers, and he felt them on his non-stabilized arm. "He's lucky. Someone poisoned him, and we have the antidote."

"Poisoned?" Qui-Gon asked, his voice sharp, and that distracted Obi-Wan enough that he didn't realize what the grip on his arm meant until the furry fingered one pressed a hypo-spray to his arm. He flinched away, too late.

"Yes," the growly voice said, the fingers letting him go. "I hope I got it to him in time."

"Thank you," Qui-Gon said, and then the bed moved, and Obi-Wan swallowed thickly as his head - his whole body, this time - spun again. The light outside his eyelids dimmed with the sound of closed curtains. "I will watch him," Qui-Gon said. "They'll need your help."

"Thank you," the growly voice said. "He should start to look better soon, if we caught it in time. Let me know if he takes a turn for the worse. If he falls asleep, it would help him."

Footsteps sounded, going away from him. After a short while, the noise in the room increased, voices and wheels and scrapes of something heavy across the floor making his head pound. Cautiously, he reached out, his arm flailing as he tried to find someone. Had Qui-Gon left? He thought he only heard one…

"I am here, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, catching his hand and squeezing gently.

Obi-Wan relaxed, glad to know Qui-Gon hadn't left. The pain from his arm and leg - not to mention his head and everywhere else - came seeping back, and he struggled to release it into a Force that still felt too far away. "I can't… feel,..," he whispered. "Neu…." He couldn't get his tongue to work.

"Shh, Padawan," his Master said gently. "You can tell me when you wake. Sleep." Although Qui-Gon gave him the slightest nudge, he fell into welcoming darkness before he could protest.

When Obi-Wan woke this time, he didn't hurt quite so much. He found it easier to open his eyes, although he didn't want to, still feeling grit in them. But he did anyway, and he found they focused easier too. He could clearly see the dark blue curtains that surrounded his medical couch, and his Master's familiar and welcome face. He could also feel Qui-Gon's familiar presence around but not in his mind; his own shields were still down. "Hello," Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said and got up from the chair sitting near the medical couch. He stepped partially out of the curtains, and when he returned, an Equani medic came with him. He vaguely remembered her, although he couldn't say how, or what interaction they'd had.

The Equani smiled at him, then began to check his pulse, eyes, temperature, everything, writing it all down on paper with a stylus. She looked over the numbers, then looked back at Obi-Wan. "You look much better," she said. "How are you feeling?"

Obi-Wan tried to tell he that he felt better, but trying to speak made him cough, and that hurt. When the coughing fit eased, ribs aching and tears blurring his sight, he could feel his Master's hand on his arm. "Easy," Qui-Gon said, soothing. "Let's get you a drink. That should help."

Before Obi-Wan could respond, his shields suddenly slammed shut. He nodded, closing his eyes again. This time he meditated, thanking his body for the message it sent him. With the clamor his ribs made because of the coughing fit, he'd barely felt his arm and leg. Qui-Gon slid his hand under Obi-Wan's head and supported him as he half sat up. He tried not to gulp the water, clearing his throat between sips. Finally, he cleared most of the grit from his throat. "Thank you," he whispered.

"You're welcome," his Master said, and sat back down in his chair. Obi-Wan wondered when the medic had left. "Obi-Wan. What do you remember?"

Obi-Wan hesitated. "I remember the girl," he said slowly. "And the rock slide, and setting her down by the scooter. But…." His brow furrowed. "Not much after that. I remember the medic, but nothing about her."

"You weren't very coherent," Qui-Gon said. "Merit told me they thought you still unconscious when you stumbled into the center of the room. You didn't seem to notice the stabilizer on your leg. A medic touched you, but you pushed her off and crawled under the heaviest machine in the clinic." He paused, but whatever he wanted to find in Obi-Wan's eyes, he apparently didn't. "They couldn't get you out. You were projecting, too, which panicked everyone in here. Only Merit had the shields to withstand you. I found everyone outside across the street."

Obi-Wan felt his face heat up. "I'm sorry," he said. Then, after a moment of trying, he sighed. "I don't remember any of it."

"That worries me," Qui-Gon said, then he touched Obi-Wan's arm. "Is it necessary to block me?"

Obi-Wan frowned and checked their bond. He found a block, but nothing he did would remove it. "I can't unblock it," he said softly, struggling to release the panic he felt into the Force before he caused another exodus - not that he could, not with Qui-Gon there, but still - and then tried to relax when he realized he had no control over his shields, either. "My shields are locked," he added, sounding more stable. "This could be a problem."

"It could," Qui-Gon said. "I will mention it to the Council when we report. I will also request time off, for both of us, so you have plenty of time to speak with Master Satoru."

"Yes," Obi-Wan said, with perhaps a little too much relief. The thought of Master Satoru made him remember something. "I dreamed," he said.

"What did you dream?" Qui-Gon asked.

"I was in my room on the initiate floor," Obi-Wan said, his voice quiet, "getting ready to meet Master Denk, hoping I'd be done before he got there. I only had two markers on my braid. He showed up behind me, looking angry and impatient. But then, his image began to flicker, and so did mine. When it stopped, I was older - I mean, my age now - and you stood behind me. I was fixing the black marker."

Qui-Gon nodded slowly. "I see," he said. "And then what?"

"You told me it was time to go." Obi-Wan took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. No matter what he tried, he couldn't make his shields do anything.

"And did you go?"

"I don't know," Obi-Wan said. "I woke up before I even made the decision." He thought a moment. "So, yes, I think so, because it was while I was in that machine, I think."

Qui-Gon leaned back in his chair. "You will want to tell that to Master Satoru," he said. "We leave tomorrow to get to the capital, and will return to the Temple the day after." He stood. "I have to wrap up the last of this mission. It won't take much longer. Sleep if you can, or meditate if you can't." He smiled. "I am glad you're better," he said, and stepped through the curtains.

Obi-Wan took as deep a breath as his ribs would let him and let it out slowly, falling easily into the meditative state that allowed his body to heal faster.