"We cannot up the dose until he stabilizes. And from the current readings, he is far from that."

Qui-Gon nodded, his eyes glued to his apprentices form on the cot before him; the coarse, rhythmic moaning coming from the boy brought the Master no ease.

Master Healer Vale Ashtan approached the bedside, his gaze also on Obi-Wan. "We can attempt another trance, but his unconsciousness is what concerns me. I do not want to put him deeper into this state of mind."

"What about . . . did you try to rouse him?"

"No. Doing such would worsen things. His body is like this for a reason, one we do not know of. Internal bleeding, possibly."

Qui-Gon rested his head in his hands for a moment, stroking his bearded face tiredly, fighting with a bout of frustrated fatigue. The sharp scent of sanitation annoyed his senses full well, senses that were annoyed enough as it was, and the brightness of the ward hurt the Master's sore eyes. Adi Gallia, from her position behind him, spoke up then in the silence pierced only by the assortment of beeping equipment, "Are we speaking on terms of moving toward rehabilitation, or of recovery?"

"Of survival, Master Adi. Of whether or not he will awaken and recover, or awaken with brain damage or paralyzed, or if he'll awaken now, or from a coma three days or weeks or months or years from now. Or if he will awaken at all."

The words were dull in Qui-Gon's ears, barely audible as he watched Obi-Wan's chest rise and fall spastically, the breathes escaping him in strained pants.

Of course, his apprentice was hurt. Obi-Wan had been injured many times, sometimes longer than others, just like all the Padawan's his age. He would sprain an ankle, break a finger, suffer minor concussions, each time to recover quickly and continue on. His Padawan could not die, not Obi-Wan Kenobi, the dearest thing Qui-Gon had in his life. No, never.

"Qui-Gon." Master Vale said, and Qui-Gon glanced up to the man's sorry green eyes, the young tense face, the fair hair. The Healer rested his hands on the railing of the cot, letting out a reluctant sigh, "You need to make a choice."

Qui-Gon didn't move, though he could see from the corner of his eye Padawan Sone, a young male Twi'lek Obi-Wan's age, shift uncomfortably from his place behind the Master Healer.

Adi placed a hand on Qui-Gon's shoulder, and he shrugged it it off gently. He felt his frustration rise again inside himself, deep in the spot where he kept all his unneeded, hindering emotions, and he dampened it out just as quickly. He desired no sympathy then. In truth, he never did.

The Healing Halls were quiet that morning, busy with only few patients, and Obi-Wan had been their only emergency the entire night, which was a blessing. Master Healer Vale and his apprentice Sone attended to him, the young one frequently checking the monitors hooked up the Obi-Wan that regularly beeped in distress, and the Master addressing him and giving proper instruction.

Though he had only arrived minutes ago, Qui-Gon had been swiftly informed of Obi-Wan's condition. He had requested to stay the night at the boy's side, but the Healer, seeing Qui-Gon's sopping wet, fatigued condition, refused him, knowing the Master need rest and a good sanisteam. Reluctantly, he had returned to his quarters, showered, and tried to meditate until morning in the Room of One-Thousand Fountains. He felt uncomfortable in the quarters without Obi-Wan with him, fussing with his tunic, fiddling with the puzzle cube that he'd been working on or brewing him sapir tea,. A rueful smile found Qui-Gon's lips at his Padawan's frequent attempts to please; he wished the boy would understand he expected nothing more than what Obi-Wan already was. But then again, his behavior on their mission made him think otherwise.

Last night had been one of the few times Qui-Gon had truly doubted Obi-Wan, something he never had to do. The initial accusation of the boy being somewhere with a woman - alone - and doing things he was forbidden from had been hasty, but reasonable. Young Padawan's often let their raging emotions surpass their duty, if only once or twice, and still continue in the way of the Order, sometimes unnoticed. But hormones and circumstances were no excuse for such foolish conduct, not by a long shot.

Obi-Wan was no fool, that Qui-Gon was sure of, or a liar for that matter, but he was a boy, one becoming a young man very quickly before his eyes. The liberty to make choices, whether right or wrong, was becoming his own. Qui-Gon wished to believe he had done right, for he had seen such done too many times to count; Obi-Wan had always been a bit of a goody-two-shoes when it came to following rules, but emotions were different, especially so given his reaction to his revisited fear.

He had spoken to Tahl for brief moments that morning, hesitantly, for he knew, like usual, she had been right, this time about the boy being unprepared. She didn't mention so, also like usual.

"Now, you must let him heal." She had said gently, placing a hand on Qui-Gon's cheek, "And let your blame fall way, before you wrinkle anymore."

"I am going to look like Master Yoda by the time this boy is a Knight."

Tahl had laughed, and Qui-Gon had allowed himself a chuckle at her amusement, though he had not realized then how much healing the boy would require. Upon his arrival in the Halls, Master Vale had informed him of Obi-Wan's position; Qui-Gon had known instantly at the man's grave tone something was not right. In fact, things were very much so wrong.

After a thorough examination of Obi-Wan, they had found a serious concussion, four broken ribs, a fractured left femur, a sprain to the right shoulder, and multiple lacerations and bruises, including a considerable one to his left eye. He had not awoken from unconsciousness, and after needing to be resuscitated twice in three hours Master Vale had slipped him into an intensive healing trance, nestling the boy deep in the cradle of the Force, in hopes of preserving the fragility of his life.

Master Vale had reluctantly explained the decision needing to be made just minutes prior. The Healers could either keep the boy in the medical centre, monitor him, give him medicine to relieve any pain, and await an awakening that would most likely not occur, or they could remove all monitors and let the boy awaken, which would most likely end tragically.

Qui-Gon doubted he could chose, not after everything that had occured. Guilt ate at him like a hungry krayt dragon, threatening to consume him, guilt for ill-decisions already made, and for horrid consequences that had followed. Now, though, none of that mattered, not until he made things right again. And if he could not . . .

The shrill sounding of monitors caught Qui-Gon's attention, and he sat up a bit to see Master Vale whisper a command to his Padawan after securing the bed restraints around Obi-Wan's shivering frame, addressing the datapad in his hand, comparing readings quietly. Sone watched intently, his timid nature especially apparent around patients, and went to retrieve a small blue vial from a nearby counter, which he promptly fed into the intravenous.

Obi-Wan's moaning had quickened, raised slightly in pitch, at the monitors beeps, and at the receiving of the medicine, worsened. He trembled as if from a chill, like he had done the entire long ride to the Temple the night prior, but it was his fever that caused such then.

Qui-Gon rarely blinked in the bright lights of the ward, studying the young face, the fair skin mottled with bruises and scrapes and sheen with perspiration, trying to remember the way it was before. He spoke to the boy through their bond, though Obi-Wan's end of it was shielded and so distant it felt like finding a fading flicker in a vast ocean, but he tried nevertheless, as he had been doing.

Obi-Wan . . . you look so sick, now. I can remember when you smiled yesterday in the club, and I didn't know then . . . how thoughtless I had been. I am sorry, my Padawan -

"Master Jinn, have you decided?" Master Vale's tone was patient, understanding of the stakes of such choice. Qui-Gon's dread caught up with him, and Vale said reassuringly, "My Padawan and I are prepared to handle whatever you choose."

"I trust your ability fully, Master Vale, and that of your apprentice." It was the truth. Master Vale was an exceptional Healer, knowledgeable in the use of natural drugs and remedies, efficient and wise in his ways. Sone, just a few years into his apprenticeship, was already rivaling his Master, young and quick and never one to err. Together, they were a remarkable team. "It seems that it is with only myself that I have doubts."

Qui-Gon grabbed the boys limp hand in his own, bruised and chafed, wishing it would respond to his touch like it usually did. What would you do, if it were me in your place, Obi-Wan?

Adi knelt on one knee to meet eyes beside Qui-Gon, her blue gaze soft upon him. Her aura was tense, though, and her voice betrayed the eyes also as she spoke, "I know you probably are not in any place to want to hear this, but it is necessary. I have good news and bad news."

Qui-Gon managed a smile, "Well, let's hear something optimistic first."

"Master Yoda has informed me that they've tracked the Senator down, and he's still on Coruscant. An apartment complex in the lower levels, just blocks away from the Crystal Enchantment, is where they are nearly sure he is."

Qui-Gon waited out her silence before inquiring reluctantly, "And the bad news?"

"There is an intense amount of security, a strict owners only entry policy, an outsiders ban just posted today taking affect, and two men found dead outside of the building this morning."

"A picture of pleasure." Qui-Gon closed his eyes for a moment, scrutinizing information in his mind, "That will make it difficult for me to get in, won't it?"

Adi's hesitation concerned the former Master, "More bad news?"

"Master Yoda . . . has suggested Siri and I to take the mission, Qui-Gon. Your place is here, I can tell."

"No," Qui-Gon stroked the back of the young hand gently, the noises emitting from Obi-Wan paining him, and he repeated more firmly, "No. I need to put to rest what I've started."

"Not before your Padawan is possibly put to rest himself." The comment could have been offensive, but such things were not exchanged between the two. They had known each other long enough to understand when the other was concerned or worried. Adi's bluntness indicated such, and even more so her following sigh.

"I cannot let the person who did this to him . . . escape."

"Meaning you wish to avenge him?"

"Meaning I wish for justice, and letting him get away would only allow other tragedies to take place." Qui-Gon pushed down any hint of revenge in him, "I need to do this."

"Someone must leave as soon as possible, and you have a decision to make that involves life or death."

Master Ashtan spoke up then, in mid-monitoring, "One needing to be made as soon as possible."

Qui-Gon nodded to them both, "It is a choice I have to make, just as I have chosen to end this mission myself."

"You are exhausted, and Obi-Wan, if he doesn't awaken . . . you cannot let your duty surpass your duty." Adi gestured to the boy, and a stab of guilt hit him harder than before. This was all his fault-

The hand in Qui-Gon's own tensed, not from response but distress, and the equipment flared in flashing lights and alarms again just like the Force did suddenly; Qui-Gon's stomach sank. Obi-Wan's half-open eyes rolled back hazily into his skull, and his trembling transformed into random thrashing that shook the cot, his moans ceasing into gurgled noises.

Master Vale responded just as swiftly as the distress begun, tightening the restraints over the boys thrashing body, resetting monitors, and barking commands to his Padawan, "Retract that last dose of thoroxide and administer thirty-four milliliters of phirdemal solution - slowly -"

"What's happening?" Qui-Gon demanded, and Adi pulled him gently away from the bedside. His mouth was dry though his eyes were pooled with moisture, and he repeated urgently, "What's happening?"

"Qui-Gon." Adi soothed, and Qui-Gon retracted from her touch again only to be grabbed by the arm and firmly tugged back. She said stonily, catching his gaze to try and steady him, "Do not risk him -"

"Master!" Sone said urgently from his place hunched over Obi-Wan's fighting body. Master Vale, already busy calculating dosages, gave the Padawan a flick of his head in reply.

The apprentice spoke softly then, chancing a glance over his shoulder to Qui-Gon, but the Master heard it clearly, "His vitals are slipping away . . ."

Vale gave a curse, dropping his datapad and standing over the form, hiding his voice also, "Help me deepen his trance."

"But Master, he is too weak already -"

"Shut-up and help me, Sone!" The voice was stern and cold, and the Padawan closed his eyes promptly and placed his hands on Obi-Wan's chest. Qui-Gon panted, as if he'd run for hours, fighting Adi's grip still, agonized at the sight. He spoke urgently to Obi-Wan then, more faithfully than before, as if it may save him. He had to save him.

Obi-Wan, please wake up, young one. I know you are suffering, it is all my fault, but you must awaken or we will lose you. I cannot lose you -

The body - why in this state did the boy seem only like a body and not like Obi-Wan?- fought at the restraints, arms flailing at the hands that tried to heal him. Vale shouted, "Sone, get me another dose of merjard's extract and . . ."

The resounding, harmonious beep pierced the other noises. Only momentary glances were exchanged before the Healers sprung to action; Obi-Wan had flatlined.

Those few moments had been some of the most agonizing in Qui-Gon's life. He saw his journey with Obi-Wan flash before his eyes, one far too short. He caught his own breath, speaking to the boy again, watching his struggle before him, Obi-Wan, listen to me, please listen Obi-Wan - you must awaken - !

Sudden realization flooded Qui-Gon as he observed Obi-Wan, and he cried as he wrenched away from Adi and began the task himself, "The restraints! Remove the restraints!"

The med team instantly complied, as did Adi, and struggled to quickly undo the clasps, Qui-Gon giving explanation, "The containment distresses him . . ." He pulled the last clip free, "Claustrophobia -"

In the instant afterward, Obi-Wan's eyes opened at the release, inhaling deeply, blue eyes wide and wild with fear and pain, clutching the bed sheets for dear life. Qui-Gon took to his side, relief flooding him at the boys alertness, the ever-so-familiar look on his face of concern. He grabbed the hand again, and this time it grabbed back. The Master could have jumped for joy.

"Heart rate's back," Sone exclaimed, and Master Vale sighed, directing the Padawan to the medicine shelf again as he checked Obi-Wan's pulse and said dryly, "Make that three vials of merjard's."

Obi-Wan's distress did not resolve, his rasping breaths turning into overwhelmed sobs, lips trembling and tears pooling from his eyes. Qui-Gon swallowed back his own tears, smiling to the boy reassuringly.

"Padawan, it's alright, everything's alright . . ." Qui-Gon nearly chuckled, allowing the Master Vale to examine him, and he placed a hand on Obi-Wan's fevered forehead, "You are safe, young one."

Obi-Wan looked up as Master Gallia standing behind Qui-Gon, who said gently, "If I believed in luck, I'd say you had some. But it's the Force that has graced you."

Obi-Wan locked eyes with his Master, a calm settling over him in the Force. His voice was nearly inaudible and coarse from the previous nights screaming, "What . . . h-happened to . . . me?"

"You were trampled, my Padawan. You have broken some bones but you will recover. How do you feel?"

Obi-Wan winced as the Healer's examining hands shifted him, feeling carefully for injuries, and cried out as he touched a tender spot on his ribcage; Master Vale hushed back an apology.

The Padawan opened his eyes again, managing a reply, "It . . . it's like . . . there's bantha's sit- . . . sitting on m-my . . . my chest." The breathing was sporadic and harsh, but Qui-Gon laughed at Obi-Wan's humour, "Never fail to amuse me, do you Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan smiled faintly, his mouth half open, emitting small sounds of pain suddenly as Vale felt touched a protrusion on his bare, bruised chest, and Obi-Wan's eyes squeezed shut as he screamed suddenly. Qui-Gon shot his eyes to Master Ashtan, "What now?"

Vale felt the spot again before replying, "His sudden change in breathing may have jostled his ribs again -"

The boy moaned rhythmically between clenched teeth, his pain in the Force staggering through their bond. Qui-Gon hushed him, running a hand gently along the soft young hair in a soothing manner. Obi-Wan writhed his head back and forth, unable to control himself - the pain -

"Can't you do something?" Qui-Gon could feel his patience growing testy.

Master Vale ran a hand through his wavy hair, "It required hours to ensure the bones were aligned, and lung puncture or collapse is still our biggest fear. Surgery may be needed -"

Obi-Wan inhaled, clutching at the bedsheets, and his eyes rolled back again, revealing whites pallid like his skin. Sone, who was watching the monitors faithfully, spoke then, "He is slipping unconscious again."

"Let him. There is not much we can do for him awake."

Qui-Gon bit off the harsh comment he was tempted to say, finding his young apprentices tensed hand and enveloping it in his own. The eyes returned to Qui-Gon's face, and the Master wasn't surprised; the boy had always been responsive to touch, whether it be physical, mental or emotional. His responsiveness was one thing Qui-Gon admired greatly.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth and weakly fought to speak, his breathes short and strained, "I-I . . . s-sorry . . . so sorry . . ."

"Sorry? For what, young one?"

"Miss . . . mission . . . I-" He groaned, squeezing at Qui-Gon's hand, and the Master hushed him promptly, "No, Obi-Wan. I am sorry. You must get well, then we will speak together. We will have tea and talk of our mistakes. Do not feel guilty for any of this. Do not worry. All you need to do is get well again, alright Padawan?"

Obi-Wan, his eyes closed again, soothed by the man's words, nodded just as Master Vale placed his hands on the boys chest. Qui-Gon tried to shut out the cry of agony that followed, scream, and then the silence. The Healer was deep in the Force by then, as was Obi-Wan in the healing trance.

Sone watched them carefully, and caught Qui-Gons gaze and whispered, "Thank you, Master Jinn. I will inform you when he awakens."

"And when will that be?

Sone hesitated, " A few hours at least."

"Do not bother; we will be gone by then." Qui-Gon gave Obi-Wan's hand a final squeeze before rising, making up his mind fully. He would find the assassin and ensure, if only for Obi-Wan's sake, that the mission would not be failed.

Adi turned to face Qui-Gon at his rising, her facial expression confused, "Did I hear you say 'we', as in you and I?"

"If I am going to catch this assassin, I'll need someone to help me."

Adi folded her arms, and though she was amused her voice was stern, "What about your apprentice - and mine?"

"They can look after each other." Qui-Gon gathered his robe from the back of his chair, smiling to Adi before heading to the door, "Just like we do."

As the Masters exited the ward, Sone called to them, approaching the two with a clenched fist held out before him. Qui-Gon drew his brow, "What's this?"

"We found this with your Padawan last night. Wondering if it means anything . . ."

Sone gave the Master a small earring, with cerulean gems dangling from silver, and Qui-Gon kept his face drawn, turning the jewelry over in his hand. With a small sigh, he figured where it had come from, and replied, "Return it to the boy. Tell him when he awakens not to worry, and inform Siri to look after Obi-Wan. We will return soon."

Adi said softly, "Let's be off." Before the two began away, Sone calling to them once more, "Where exactly are you going, Masters?"

Qui-Gon glanced back, his stomach still tense with controlled frustration, resentment and flecks of revenge- emotions he knew he should not feel. He repressed them, kept them close in check, before replying and swiftly leaving the Halls, "To find who is responsible for this, and to ensure they are dealt with accordingly."

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