Wes slowly realized he was on his hands and knees beside Tycho's bed, his body trembling, muscles clenched. He gasped for air, his lungs burning desperately for oxygen. He took a moment to just concentrate on breathing, in and out, feeling the effects of adrenaline begin to ebb, leaving behind a drained sense of helplessness.

By the time his heart stopped pounding in his ears, Wes realized that Hobbie was beside him, also breathing heavily. His friend wasn't quite on his hands and knees, but wasn't far from it, either. "Hobbie... 're you..."

"I...I'm ok," he managed, bent at the waist with both hands on the bed, supporting his weight. "Whuh... What happened?"

"Dunno." Wes shook his head, using the bed to climb unsteadily to his feet. Hobbie straightened a little, reaching a hand out to take Wes's elbow, and they leaned on each other for a moment. Like coming out of a dream, Wes felt disorientated, unsure of his surroundings, but he quickly remembered the where, and especially the why. He looked down and saw that Tycho seemed to be asleep, his chest rising and falling in the shallow pattern that was normal for him these days. His skin shone with sweat, much as Wes's own did, but Tycho seemed comfortable enough for the moment. A tiny smile seemed to turn up the corners of his mouth ever-so-slightly.

Wes's eyes moved from his friend to Winter, sitting on the opposite side of the bed from Wes and Hobbie, her face buried in her hands as her back arched with a sob. It was the first time Wes had seen her cry since he'd arrived. "Winter, are you--"

"Corran!" That was Hobbie, letting go of Wes to round the end of the bed. Wes turned to see the Jedi lying on his side, on the floor. His own weakness pushed aside, Wes followed in Hobbie's wake, dropping to his knees beside the green heap that was their friend.

As terrible as Wes felt, Corran looked substantially worse. The Jedi was pale, sweating heavily, his breathing labored as he trembled uncontrollably. While Hobbie was checking for a pulse, Wes stripped off his outer shirt, rolled it quickly, and tucked it under the younger man's head.

"You'd better get a doctor. And Mirax," Hobbie added quietly, placing a palm on Corran's forehead. "He's burning up, and his heart is racing."

"I'll go," Winter said from behind them. Wes turned to look at her, seeing that her mask was back in place, if a little blotchy and pink.

"All right," was all he answered, turning back to Corran and Hobbie as Tycho's wife left the room.

"What in the name of the Sith is going on here," Hobbie muttered.

Wes helped Hobbie move Corran onto his back, and readjusted the makeshift pillow. "I don't know," he answered, sitting back on his heels. "It's a little...fuzzy. But I'd say we're all suffering from the same thing."

Hobbie looked from Corran to Wes. "Got something to do with what Corran was doing? With the vision?"

"I don't know much about Jedi powers," Wes said slowly, rubbing at the sweat on his cheeks and upper lip, "but I do know that for a moment there, I was--" Wes was interrupted by Mirax entering quietly but quickly into the room, followed by Winter. Hobbie moved aside to let Mirax get to her husband as Winter took her customary place by Tycho's side while keeping an eye on what was going on in the far corner.

"What happened? What did he do?" Mirax asked, looking over at Wes, then up at Hobbie.

"Something about a vision," Wes said, rubbing at his temples now. His head was throbbing dully in time with his heartbeat.

"A vision?! Oh, no. Corran..." Mirax bent lower, pushing sweat-matted hair away from her husband's forehead before kissing it gently. "The doctor's on his way, you'll be fine" she whispered softly to him.

"I knew there'd be a catch," Hobbie said quietly, bending at the waist with his hands on his thighs. He blew out a long breath.

"Why did he create a vision?" Mirax asked over her shoulder, Corran's hand clutched to her breastbone.

Wes shook his head slowly and sighed. "Cause Tycho asked him to."

Mirax turned back to her husband, shaking her own head. "He should have known better," she whispered.

"Will he be ok?" Hobbie asked, one hand on her shoulder.

"I hope so." She looked up at Hobbie, her eyes glistening with tears. "The doctor was already on his way to see Tycho, so it shouldn't be long until he's here."

Hobbie nodded, then turned to Wes. "What were you saying before?"

Wes's face twisted as he thought about it. It was like a dream, so vivid when he'd awoken, now distant and fading. But surely everyone else in the room must have felt it too, since they'd had similar physical reactions? "I was going to say that for a moment, I think I... I dunno, somehow I was Tycho." He shook his head, knowing how insane it all sounded. But Hobbie looked thoughtful, not shocked, and was nodding in agreement.

"We were part of the vision," Winter said from her place by the bed, and all three turned to look at her. She didn't turn towards them, but continued to be focused on her husband, gently petting his hair while he slept.

"I don't think that's what was supposed to happen," Hobbie countered, straightening. "It was for Tycho. Sith, it was Tycho, in his fighter. Wes is right, I was there, I could see it, I was living it." He rubbed at his forehead, as if trying to clear away the memory. Or possibly the same headache Wes was feeling.

"We were all there," Wes said, climbing slowly and stiffly to his feet. "We got sucked in somehow."

"Mom?" Adalee appeared at the bedroom door, interrupting the conversation, and the doctor entered to tend to his patients.