For all of his other talents, Obi-Wan had to admit that being a liar wasn't one of them.
Oh, he lied quite convincingly, but that was the problem. There was no graceful way to expose the truth after he had lied. Instead he had to carry around the weight of the lie on his shoulders, and it continually pressed down upon him. He could lie: he couldn't be a liar. He could not shed the guilt of it so easily. Ahsoka was already starting to notice the tiredness in his eyes that came from it.
She had also pressed him for details as to where he was going. Obi-Wan understood her nervousness, but he properly soothed her, even though it made him darkly amused that he was considered an expert in such things. He assured her that he would return despite her anxiousness. Fortunately, Plo Koon had been ready and willing to lend a sympathetic ear.
Obi-Wan knew that it was only a matter of time before Ahsoka started to unravel her own memories of the accident, and to wonder about specifics. It was also only a matter of time before Ahsoka had to get angry at something, with her firey nature (that was amazingly like Anakin's), and he knew that he was setting himself up to be hated. He truly didn't mind. If anything, it seemed inevitable.
But for now...
He looked up and sighed as the elevator began climbing up to the skyhook drifting over the Coruscant skyscrapers. It was a pleasant day, and the elevator was transparisteel on nearly all sides, letting the natural light flood in. After all, he was heading up to one of the most expensive pieces of Coruscant estate. The Loornu Institute had a very specific role in Coruscant society, and that was to be a place where the wealthy and elite fled to deal with embarrassing personal problems or end-of-life care. Fortunately the center for recovering addicts was placed well away from the geriatric facilities. But the grounds were lush and beautiful, and the staff was competent. More importantly, they were discreet.
Obi-Wan was the sort to patiently accumulate favors, almost despite himself. People offered them in gratitude and then never expected him to actually call them in. This time, well - he had surprised quite a few, immediately demanding aid almost as soon as he could speak after the attack. He was fairly sure that the Loornu Institute had only agreed (and that another Jedi had only asked) because it seemed to be a dying man's last wish. Now that they were stuck following through with his request, well, he couldn't blame them for being slightly aggravated.
Still, he was happy to know she was being looked after.
He was still puzzling out the details from his own murky memories. Immediately after the first blast, he had gone in to try and find Anakin; clone troopers had swarmed in ahead of him. One had yelled something about grabbing General Skywalker, and he assumed it had been done, which was why he dove for Ventress instead of pressing further... why he dragged her out. Obi-Wan wasn't quite sure if it was a true memory or if his imagination was desperately trying to shed some of the blame he had assigned himself. Perhaps it wasn't his fault. Perhaps it was the fault of the clone trooper who didn't get away fast enough before the second blast. Perhaps...
The doors open and fresh air rushed in. He couldn't spend his time wondering about the past, not when reality was there, staring him in the face.
The skyhook had carefully maintained grounds, and purple-blue grass crunched underneath his feet as he purposefully walked off of the broad pathway. He knew where he was going. It was the oldest section of the set of buildings, humble little rooms in sanitary white plastisteel with just enough touches of home to make it palatable. They had also put her in the smallest room, which he understood, and didn't mind.
He stood outside a certain doorway (room 3084, he had already memorized the number) and sighed. Soon enough, Ahsoka would start to unravel it all, and figure out that Asajj Ventress had been dragged to safety; not only had she been dragged to safety, but Ahsoka would figure out his lie. Asajj had managed to be their early warning about the biochemical weapon's induced bacta allergy, that part was true. However, unlike what he had told Ahsoka... she hadn't died.
In fact, Ventress was laying on the bed in the small room.
One of the nurses (a politely neat and bland-looking Pantoran girl) was busy tidying the room. She looked up and gave Obi-Wan a smile. "Good afternoon, Master Kenobi."
"Good afternoon." He paused a moment, looking around the room. Sunlight was streaming in the windows through the carefully manicured gardens. The medical equipment was in working order, chirping with a steady and calm regularity. The hospital blankets had even been accentuated with a colorful quilt over the top, and a few fresh flowers had been placed in the vase by the bed. "Has there been any change, or...?"
"No, sir. She hasn't regained consciousness yet, if that's what you mean. But we have successfully weaned her off of much of the life-support systems," the nurse added hastily, trying to be cheerful. "She's making progress."
For a long moment, he stood at the foot of the bed, looking at her. Without anger contorting her face, Asajj did have a certain beauty about her. If anything she looked almost peaceful in such deep sleep. It had been long enough that her hair was starting to grow in again - black peachfuzz so short it made her look a little like some army brat straight out of boot camp. He hadn't noticed until now how long and delicate her eyelashes were. And someone had managed to match the color of her facial tattoos to one of the patterns in the quilt, obviously assuming dark purple was her favourite color.
It was soothing to see her breathing with deep regularity, and to see the bandage covering her face; it had shrunk since the last time he saw her. A simple explanation: she had been closest to the first blast, and had caught some shrapnel. It was healing well, all things considered.
Obi-Wan merely hoped for her understanding whenever she woke up to find herself disoriented, half-blind, and crippled.
"Would you like to stay a bit, sir?" The nurse said politely. "I can hold off on changing her bandages for a little while..." The Pantoran had even pulled out a chair from the small desk set in the room, angling it to face the bed. It was a very tempting offer, to sit there and talk to Asajj to try and explain, to try and reach her despite her injuries.
But what was there to say?
"No, thank you. I'll be leaving now."