Dully, Obi-Wan was aware he'd survived.
Somehow.
He wasn't exactly sure how, per se, but he had trusted in the Force and the Force must've guided him. He'd escaped the mass of freefalling debris and had landed on something firm, something hard.
He was on solid ground at last.
Briefly, he scanned his surroundings and found no threats. And there were no warnings or triggers in the Force. He was safe for the time being.
Even though he knew it was temporary, relief poured into him. He laughed, or more accurately, wheezed weakly. A wave of exhaustion slammed into him and he fought the urge to collapse. However, there was still the matter of protecting the Duchess and making sure she was safe and accounted for. He couldn't waste time and pass out now. The last he saw of her, a remorseful Qui-Gon was dragging her into the shuttle.
Obi-Wan scrunched his forehead, trying to think, to remember. The memory was hazy, but it floated back to him in bits and pieces, mere fragments. It wasn't much, but it was enough for him to piece together and form a picture.
They had been in a cargo bay of some sort. An exceptionally large one. They had been surrounded by bounty hunters, but Obi-Wan hadn't been able to move. Why…? Something hard had pressed against his temple…something metal and— He recalled the blaster pressed against his head. Ah, yes, that's right. And there had been shouts. Lots of 'em, echoing all over the place in a frantic flurry. Had he been shouting too? What…?
Obi-Wan rubbed his forehead roughly. What was it? What had he said?
Then it came to him. Obi-Wan had screamed at them to go on without him. The logical choice. He wouldn't have made it in time before the ship exploded. All thanks to those blasted self-destruct protocols. Qui-Gon had been occupied fending off an incredible amount of droids and the Duchess was his priority, so he didn't have time to save Obi-Wan. He would have to trust Obi-Wan to take care of himself. He remembered watching Qui-Gon and Satine escaping on the shuttle. Then the world had gone black. When he had woken up, he was falling 40,000 feet in the air amidst a sea of debris and shrapnel. And there was pain, so much pain.
Shuddering, he focused on breathing. Just breathing for now. Surely he could manage that. Breathe in…breathe out…breathe in….
For a while he stayed like that, his eyes closed as he took in the feel of grass poking at his hands and ankles, the dirt his fingernails clawed, and the salty sweat dripping from every inch of his body. A cool breeze blew against his trembling body, sending chills racing up and down his spine. It rustled through the trees, causing their leaves to dance in mesmerizing synch. And birds chirped cheerfully, chattering in their melodious language.
Vaguely, Obi-Wan noticed the roar of an engine mingling in nature's sweet melody. He heard the hydraulic hiss and faint whirring sound as the docking ramp lowered to the ground, sinking into the soft dirt and grass.
"Kenobi?" a familiar voice called out in disbelief. "Is that…is that you?"
It was music to his ears. Better than any voice he'd heard, aside from Qui-Gon Jinn, his master. It was Satine.
Obi-Wan inhaled shakily and managed to lift his head. Three blurry figures approached. Obi-Wan squinted and shook his head, blinking harshly. Scratch that, it was just one.
"Oh, Obi-Wan!" Satine gasped. She was speed-walking toward him, wait…now jogging, then running, and finally full out sprinting. Concern knitted her brow and horror filled her eyes as she slid to her knees next to the Padawan. She looked him up and down, apparently deeply concerned by what she saw. Well, that wasn't good. He didn't want to worry her; she had enough worries as it was. So for what must've been the twentieth time that day, Obi-Wan summoned the Force and wrapped it around him. He let it fill him, supporting him. Holding his breath, he struggled to stand.
"No, no, wait. Obi-Wan, hold on. Sit," Satine insisted gently but firmly. She placed a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder and pulled him back down. "Sit."
Obi-Wan grunted as he plopped to the earth, then grimaced. Pain shot up and down his body. It struck his head, his spine, his arms…and practically everywhere. Little white worms wiggled in his vision and Satine blurred out for a second. He blinked fervently and, to his relief, some of his focus returned. He fixed his attention upon Satine and furrowed his brows. He couldn't tell if she was hurt or not. Everything was too…he shook his head and grit his teeth stubbornly.
"Are you okay?" he croaked, his mouth deathly dry. He was suddenly craving water. Deeply.
Satine either ignored or didn't hear him. Her attention was hyperfixed on scanning Obi-Wan from head to do.
"You're bleeding all over, Obi-Wan," she swallowed. "There's lots of…shrapnel and…." She leaned forward to squint at something in Obi-Wan's abdomend. She paled, her eyes widening. She looked back at Obi-Wan, amazement and horror stirring in her gaze. "You don't feel that?"
"Don't feel what?" Obi-Wan frowned. He started to lower his head, to see for himself. But Satine quickly lifted his chin away.
"Nothing. It's nothing. You don't need to worry about that now," she answered. She managed a watery smile and Obi-Wan smiled in return. Nearly nose to nose, they searched each other's faces. Her hands sent warmth spiking through his shoulders and she laughed breathily. Tears of relief sent streaks in her muddy cheeks. Satine shook her head, murmuring something Obi-Wan couldn't make out.
Watching her, he hadn't realized how beautiful she was. Even with the bloodshot eyes, the sticks in her hair, the mud and bruises peppering her face. Oh, but who was he kidding? She was always so beautiful. He'd noticed when he first laid eyes on her, but this was…different. It was a snare, a trap. Attachment wasn't the Jedi way! He clenched his jaw and looked away.
"We thought we lost you, you know. I thought—," she whispered, emotion choking out her words.
Obi-Wan hummed, his eyes falling closed. "But you didn't. M' here."
Satine laughed again, more tears streaming down her cheeks. "Yeah. I can hardly believe it."
"I'm telling the truth, S'tine," Obi-Wan said, frowning slightly. His eyes cracked open just wide enough for him to look at her through his eyelashes. "I know…I know," she breathed, chuckling again softly.
Skin pressed against his and his heart did a ridiculously weird flutter. Was that her forehead against his? Distantly, Obi-Wan felt the urge to pull away in repulsion, but couldn't find the strength. Surely this was tolerable for a Jedi. It wasn't intimate, was it? No. Satine was just relieved he was alive. And Obi-Wan was doubly relieved she was well too. Very, very much so.
Then the unthinkable happened. Two warm arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer. Someone's chest was hugged against his own, a face pressed into his shoulder. His eyes shot open and he looked down into the wavy blonde hair, the color of bleached sand, of Satine. Her arms were wrapped around him like she was about to tackle him, but she didn't move. Just sat there, her breath warming his neck. What was she doing? Was this some sort of Mandalorian thing? What was he supposed to—
"It's a hug, Obi-Wan," she murmured.
Had he spoken aloud? She couldn't read his thoughts…could she? No, stupid question.
Obi-Wan stiffened. A hug. No. That wasn't allowed. He was a Jedi. He wasn't supposed to form attachments. Affection was the telltale sign of…
Satine inhaled sharply and stiffened as well. Sighing, she suddenly started pulling away, taking her warmth with her. "I'm sorry, I should've known better. I let myself get carried away. All due apologies, Kenobi."
Wait…, he wanted to say. But actions are always stronger than words. Quicker too! Sometimes. He leaned forward and stopped her. With no time to think of the consequences, he pulled her back and wrapped his arms around her slender form.
And so he hugged her back. Now it was Satine's turn to sit there, stunned, her arms limp at her sides. "Thank you," he whispered in her ear. A small, uncertain smile quivered in Satine's lips as she slowly lifted her arms around him and squeezed. "Of course."
They were hugging. Before it was only something he'd heard other culture's do. The Jedi generally refrained from such crude physical touch. Now he knew what it was like. He really knew. And not just from hearing or reading about it.
Obi-Wan felt his heart race as he melted into the embrace.
Moments passed, Obi-Wan wasn't sure how long they held each other like that in silence. It all went in a blur, everything hazy around the edges. Remaining fiery balls of shrapnel and exploded ships falling behind them, beyond the cliff. They were red tear drops of the sky, roaring down in great heaps of smoke, blending with the warm glow of a setting sun.
Then a different sound pierced Obi-Wan's thoughts. He heard the sharp, metal tap of boots against the dock ramp. But Obi-Wan couldn't find the strength to open his eyes to see who it was.
He heard Satine take a deep, shaky breath and abruptly pull away. His head suddenly felt too heavy to hold up properly and he tipped, hitting Satine's chest. His cheeks reddened in embarrassment as Satine gently lifted it away. He felt himself lowered to the cool grass. She cleared her throat. Obi-Wan could almost see the red blush creeping up her neck and face at the sound. He smiled faintly.
"He's injured, Master Jinn," Satine's voice called out tightly. Master Jinn? His master was here? Here? Now? Obi-Wan wanted to get up, apologize to his master, but his limbs felt made of lead.
"Hmm, yes, I can see that. Prep the ship, Duchess. I'll handle this," his master's deep voice was both soothing and terrifying to hear. Has he seen them hug? What would he say? He wouldn't be pleased. What if he—
"Hold on, Obi-Wan," Satine whispered, patting the pat of his back that wasn't burned, scraped, or impaled. "I'll see you soon." Obi-Wan merely hummed—so softly he wondered if Satine heard. Probably not. He tried again, with no result.
The grass rustled as Satine rose to her feet. Dirt and gravel crunched under her footsteps, a branch snapping, as she left. Eventually, Obi-Wan could hear her feet tapping against the metal dock ramp as she entered the ship. Only then did he notice he felt rather cold….
The sounds of the rustling leaves and the chirping birds faded in and out as his consciousness wavered.
Suddenly, Qui-Gon was at his side, making displeased sounds that sent guilt twisting in Obi-Wan's gut. "Whatever am I to do with you, Padawan?" Qui-Gon sighed. A rhetorical question. Not for Obi-Wan.
"Do you think you can stand?" Ah, see that one was for Obi-Wan.
Yes, Master, thank you Master, was what Obi-Wan intended to say. All that came out was a pathetic, "Mmhm."
Qui-Gon gave an unimpressed huff.
"I shall take that as a no. So bear with me then as I…" Qui-Gon trailed off, his words interrupted by a grunt. Arms snaked painfully under Obi-Wan's back and he gave an involuntary yelp.
"I know, I know, just hush, Padawan," Qui-Gon murmured. Obi-Wan stifled the urge to scream in agony as the Jedi Master's hand brushed against something lodged in his side.
Then Obi-Wan was aware of Qui-Gon's heavy hands and muscular arms heaving Obi-Wan to his feet. The world swirled, even with his eyes closed, and his pupils rolled into the back of his head. Within seconds, he was lost to the world, his head dipping to the side, unconscious.
Qui-Gon caught him as he fell.
Qui-Gon had witnessed the whole event between his two young charges. But perhaps, he thought as he looked down at his Padawan's bloody laxed face, that was a matter for another day.