His eyelids were sticky with remnants of Bacta as he tried to open his eyes. With his left hand, he groped uncoordinatedly for the foreign objects, feeling the familiar sensation of bandages still wrapped around his arm a moment later on his face.

To his frustration, he only managed to dislodge a few small chunks from the corners of his eyes, but it was enough for him to finally open his eyes.

He was back in his room - laid up in the same bed. His arm and leg were still immobilized with splints, although they had now been replaced with plastoid models - probably to make them easier to remove.

His skin hurt a little less, but unfortunately not as much as he had hoped. It felt like he was still at point zero.

A bustling noise made him turn his attention to the chairs. What he recognized was a blonde mop of hair - Satine - but when the woman lifted her head, he realized it was only Runi, who had probably fallen asleep in one of the chairs and was now slowly waking up.

Something twisted his heart painfully.

"Good morning," he greeted with a smile, watching as her brown eyes slowly opened.

Sie almost jumped when she heard his voice, now wide awake. "...Oh, good morning."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "They put you on guard duty so I wouldn't run away?" he joked.

Runi frowned briefly until she giggled softly. "No, of course not," her expression turned serious again, "... I thought you might appreciate the company... You've been here a while and being alone all the time can not be nice, can't it?"

Her words hit him like bullets from a Slugthrower.

You'll always be alone in the end, Obi-Wan.

"I- ," the words stuck in his throat, "I suppose."

It wasn't as if he didn't appreciate her effort - he just didn't know how to deal with the fact that she felt the need to sit with him.

Runi tilted her head, frowning worriedly. "Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no...," Obi-Wan caught himself quickly, "I... just thank you... really."

She shot him a smile that reminded him a lot of Satine.

Stop that.

"I don't want to be rude, Runi, but don't you need to check on the other patients?" he asked after a moment's hesitation.

Her fingers twitched nervously and she looked away. "...today is my day off...," she mumbled barely audibly, "...I usually spend these days with the people I feel could use someone."

It took Obi-Wan a moment to process this information and finally the scales fell from his eyes. "... you are force-sensitive," he blurted out.

Runi huffed, still looking to the floor. "Yeah... but untrained. You know how the Mandalorians are about the Jedi."

"Do you wish you'd been trained?"

She finally looked up, her brown eyes shining. "I don't know to be honest. I can't say I'm not happy with the way things are... but sometimes it just feels like I'm missing something."

He could understand that all too well.

"I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "Don't be."

Despite her words, the matter made him think. He had long struggled with whether the Jedi path was really meant for him. He would have left the Order for Satine - if she had asked him.

But of course she never did.

Obi-Wan shifted on the bed, his face contorting as the movement pulled at his skin and made his broken leg twitch.

Immediately Runi jumped up and was at his side. "I should have asked this much sooner... How are you feeling? How's the pain?"

Before answering, Obi-Wan took a moment, breathing through the pain. "I'm alright... just moved wrong," he panted, finally looking at Runi, "Tell me, did the bacta have the desired effect?"

When her face fell, he already knew the answer. "Unfortunately no," she started, "The damage is too extensive, despite two days in the bacta tank. I'm afraid you'll need a skin graft in some places. The doctors are already conferring on how to-."

"The Jedi healers will take care of it," he unintentionally interrupted her hastily, causing her to wince a little.

Now he felt bad. "Sorry, I- I didn't mean it like that," he paused briefly, "I don't want to take advantage of your hospitality any longer than I have to."

What is wrong with you?

He was constantly on edge. Like there was a rancor lurking in the corner, just waiting to pounce.

Runi straightened up. "Master Kenobi, we don't do this out of mere hospitality. We help anyone in need, Jedi or not."

"Still...," Obi-Wan swallowed hard, "... I just want to go home."

Her gaze softened again. "I understand." She stood up. "Then let me talk to my colleagues, maybe we can already talk to the Jedi healers."

He hoped he wasn't being rude.

Obi-Wan pursed his lips and nodded curtly. "Thank you."

Runi bowed briefly and smiled shallowly. "You're welcome," she walked to the door and placed her hand on the handle, "Get some rest, Master Kenobi."

Before he could reply, she was already out the door, leaving him alone with himself again.

His thoughts were racing.

Satine still hadn't been there. He was worried.

Have I done something wrong? Did something happen on Concordia that made her avoid me? ... Did I hurt her?

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and he briefly thought it was just one of the nurses, but when a boy with ginger hair much like his own shyly walked in instead, he was more than surprised.

Korkie Kryze.

Obi-Wan had never met the boy in person, but Satine had told him about him a long time ago. Her sister's son.

"Hello," the boy greeted a little uncertainly, shortly looking towards the window before fixing his blue eyes on him, "You are Master Kenobi, aren't you?"

"I am," he confirmed, eyeing the teenager, "...you needn't be nervous, Korkie."

The blue eyes flashed. "You know my name?"

Tipping his head, Obi-Wan smirked. "I've heard of you."

"Oh." Korkie crossed his arms behind his back in response, shuffling on his feet.

With his free arm, Obi-Wan braced himself to sit up a little, his breath catching in his throat as the movement triggered another sharp burn. He felt the boy's shocked gaze on him, and when he looked up again, he noticed Korkie quickly avert his eyes from him.

He is not used to such sights.

"What can I do for you, Korkie?" he finally asked when he was sitting halfway upright, his voice rough with effort.

Korkie's nervousness reached new heights, almost giving Obi-Wan a headache. "I- I'm worried about my mot-," he winced, immediately clenching his mouth shut, "... my aunt. She hasn't left her room since you returned. She doesn't speak to anyone - not even me... I don't know what to do anymore."

Obi-Wan knew he was staring, but he couldn't help himself.

Mother. He said mother.

His eyes traveled over Korkie's face. The blue eyes. The ginger hair.

Korkie looked at him pleadingly. "You must try to talk to her."

He finally managed to tear his gaze away, shoving his thoughts to the back of his head. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he rubbed a hand down his face.

"Korkie, I... I don't know if my presence would make your situation any better right now."

She had to have a reason for not coming here.

The boy's fingers clenched. "...Please. I think you're the only one who could get through to her."

They stared at each other silently for a moment, Korkie's eyes glazed with worry but at the same time shining with determination and Obi-Wan's cool and analyzing, carefully hiding his inner tumult.

"Okay," Obi-Wan finally breathed, holding out his bandaged hand, "Help me up."

For a moment the boy hesitated, but finally he stepped forward to the bed, carefully gripping his forearm tightly. Obi-Wan suppressed a wince in response as Korkie pulled him up, biting his tongue hard instead to keep from crying out.

Still, he couldn't suppress the relieved breath that escaped him when he finally sat fully upright. His body trembled, having to adjust to the sudden change of position.

"What happened?" Korkie piped up quietly before he could stop himself, staring at the bandages covering his entire torso and the limbs stuck in casts.

Obi-Wan chose his answer carefully. "Ship crash," he offered.

"You crashed?" he exclaimed, "But- But Satine looked fine."

He forced a smile. "That's good, isn't it?"

The boy blinked at him, clearly struggling for words.

Obi-Wan cut him to it. "Would you find me something to wear?" he asked and added after a moment: "... and a wheelchair."

Korkie's gaze lingered a moment longer - insecurity leaking into the Force - before he nodded eagerly and quickly bustled out of the room.

He had never imagined meeting the boy. And somehow it left him with a strange feeling.

Forcing his thoughts back to the present, he first began unlatching the bed railing, sliding it down with a thud.

Now came the hard part.

Taking a deep breath, he first swung his half-healthy leg over the edge of the bed, letting his bare foot rest against the tiled floor.

There were a few bruises and new scars adorning his thighs and lower legs, but nothing that would limit him in the long term.

His left leg was a different story.

With his healthy arm, he carefully lifted the splinted leg off the mattress and heaved it next to his other leg before gently setting it down.

It hurts.

The skin that wasn't covered by the plastoid brace and bandages was almost black in color.

He drew in a sharp breath as fragments of large rocks and dark canyons flashed before his inner eye.

Pull yourself together.

At that moment, Korkie came back in, pushing a wheelchair with a bundle of blue clothes on it.

Obi-Wan immediately recognized it as the nurses' work clothes.

"That's all I could find," the boy explained uncertainly, holding the clothes out to him, "... I hope they fit."

"It's quite alright," Obi-Wan soothed in return, taking the clothes from his hand.

Both the pants and the shirt were on the larger side, but it was just right so he could pull them on over the braces.

Slipping the hospital gown of his shoulders was relatively easy - oposed to getting the shirt on.

Obi-Wan stared at the garment for a second before threading his broken arm through one of the sleeves, which he somehow managed to do.

As he tried to pull it over his head though, he had to stop halfway with a pained yelp as the movement stretched his skin uncomfortably. Silently he cursed under his breath, dropping his arms back on his lap.

A clearing of his throat made him look up again, reminding him of Korkie's presence. "... I could help... only if you want to, of course."

The proud part of him wanted to vehemently refuse the offer - but the realistic part knew he couldn't do it alone without hurting himself.

"Fine," he finally forced out.

Silently, Korkie stepped forward and grabbed the shirt, first guiding it over both his arms and finally over his head, tucking it carefully down his back.

He had no idea what to think of Korkie.

Obi-Wan would probably have felt humiliated if he wasn't already so exhausted from just sitting up.

Both of them paused as their eyes fell on the remaining pants.

"Just leave it," Obi-Wan muttered quickly, averting his eyes to look at the shorts he was already wearing.

"It's cold outside," Korkie argued, his insistence again reminding him much of his own.

"Take a blanket."

The boy sighed. "Do you really want to face Satine like this?"

Obi-Wan clenched his jaw, feeling exposed. Finally, he lowered his shoulders and reached for the pants, signing his defeat.

It was an undignified process, but finally they got the pants over his brace and hips.

"You need a break?" Korkie finally asked, studying Obi-Wan's pale face carefully.

I feel like I could faint at any moment.

"It's okay," he grunted instead, "We should see about getting out of here before one of the doctors comes back."

And oh Force, Obi-Wan knew only too well that they would never let him go willingly.

Korkie shifted the wheelchair closer to the bed, offering his hand for Obi-Wan to take.

His fingers trembled as he took Korkie's hand and he stopped briefly to collect himself.

He didn't miss the gentle squeeze of the hand in his - if only for a moment.

Gathering his last reserves of strength, he finally pushed himself off the bed and into the wheelchair, this time cursing loudly as his leg hit awkwardly against the side of the bed. "Fuck..." he growled, squeezing his eyes shut, with his good hand curled around his broken leg.

"Everything okay?", Korkie queried immediately, now kneeling in front of the chair, "Did you hurt your leg?"

The flash of concern that echoed through the Force was almost overwhelming and Obi-Wan felt like he was about to get sick.

"Just bumped my leg," he replied after the pain slowly subsided, releasing his hand and sitting back up. He noticed how Korkie still looked unconvinced. "It's really no worse than before, I promise."

Korkie furrowed his eyebrows but didn't argue further, instead busying himself with unfolding the rest for the leg.

When he was done, he looked at Obi-Wan questioningly. "Is it okay if I lift your leg?"

Obi-Wan really was no keen on moving the limb again but he knew they had to. "Go ahead. Grab it under the upper and lower leg."

The boy did as instructed, latching his fingers under the brace before steadily repositioning the leg onto the wheelchair. Despite Korkie's cautious approach, Obi-Wan couldn't quite stop himself from tensing up, his fingers clawing at the armrest.

Korkie seemed to have noticed this. "... sorry."

"Don't worry," he breathed out, knowing that he didn't exactly make a handsome picture, "Let's just go."

"Alright." The ginger-haired boy stepped behind the wheelchair and took the handles in his hands before leaning forward once more. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, I've got everything."

Except his lightsaber, which had probably disappeared into the canyons of Concordia.

Obi-Wan couldn't help much as Korkie began to push him first out of the room and then through the long corridors of the hospital, avoiding as many nurses and doctors as possible on their way.

Much to his relief, they made it out without being stopped. Turning in his wheelchair, Obi-Wan took a studious look at his surroundings. They were indeed in the Central Hospital of Sundari, not far from the palace.

"There's a platform that should take us directly to the palace," Korkie explained, advancing with a confident stride.

"Won't the guards stop us?" Obi-Wan mused as they climbed onto said transport, the wind whistling in their ears as they took off a moment later.

Er could remember only too well how the Mandalorian guards had met him with suspicion when he arrived.

I'm sure some of them would have loved to pull out their blasters.

"No," Korkie replied, "... as a member of the family, I have free access and you're with me, so to speak."

Humming, Obi-Wan fixed his gaze on the approaching palace before them, mentally preparing himself for what lay ahead.

Although Sundari was inhabited by thousands of people, he could pick out Satine's presence crystal clear in the Force.

But unlike usual, she wasn't shining brightly, she was muted - weighted down by something.

Obi-Wan's bad feeling intensified.

As Korkie had predicted, they had no trouble getting past the guards and soon found themselves in Satine's quarters.

"I think she's in the bedroom," Korkie muttered, letting go of the wheelchair, visibly tense.

Using the Force as support, Obi-Wan moved the wheelchair with his good arm to the door in question, knocking carefully.

He received no answer - even though he knew it was there.

You can't leave now. She needs you.

Making a decision, he opened the door via the door panel, quietly rolling in and letting the door hiss shut behind him.

Satine sat with her back to him, staring absently out of the window. He couldn't see her face, but he already suspected that she hadn't slept the last few nights. Her hair was disheveled and her clothes hung loosely over her frame.

"Korkie, I told you I wanted to be alone...," she breathed hoarsely, still not looking in his direction.

Obi-Wan inched his wheelchair closer before he spoke. "It's me," he started, causing her to sit up abruptly, jerking her head towards him, "Your nephew is worried about you... and so am I."

Her blue eyes were surrounded by dark circles, her skin unhealthily pale. "Obi-Wan."

Even without words, Obi-Wan already knew that something terrible must have happened on Concordia.