Chapter 24

Jaina pressed her lips into a thin line. "I made a vow that day too."

Obi-Wan felt the blood drain from his face. He hated this. He hated the way she stubbornly set her chin. The way her eyes—usually so gentle, so soft—narrowed into steely slits. The way she always insisted on putting herself last, refusing to take care of her own needs, refusing to back down from adversity, no matter how lethal.

And yet, he shouldn't have been surprised.

This stubborn, compassionate, caring little girl was just like him—unfathomably, achingly so. He had no doubt that she would argue. And that she wouldn't stop until she won.

Why did she have to have such a giving heart, a heart that was too good for the kind of life they lived?

"This is what needs to be done, Master, and you know it too," Jaina said quietly, gazing up at her dearest mentor, her most precious friend, her father in all but name, and blood.

"There are countless others who need you. And even if we didn't take that into account, this Trenomite counteragent is the only solution the Healers have arrived at, at present." She gestured dryly at all the wires that surrounded her, trying her best to keep her voice light. "We don't know how much time I have left. We might as well use this unfortunate turn of events to everyone else's advantage—by finding a potential cure."

Obi-Wan's shoulders slumped, and he closed his eyes.

He was quiet for a long moment, gathering his thoughts. Part of him wanted to find another solution— any other solution, as long as it didn't involve her at all.

But he could see her unwavering gaze, could detect the determination in her eyes. This was something she had made her mind up about, and she wouldn't be dissuaded.

"I will be fine," Jaina said firmly. "Trust me."

Obi-Wan opened his eyes, sighing heavily as he squeezed her hand. "Why—why—" he grumbled under his breath. "Did you have to develop all of my worst traits?"

Her lips instinctively curled into an amused smirk, despite the situation.

A small, tired smile tugged at Obi-Wan's lips in return. He sighed heavily. "Stubborn," he muttered. "Obstinate. And—"

"I think I much rather prefer…tenacious."

"Of course you would," he retorted dryly. This was always her way of reassuring him—with her little smile and her gentle humor. "That's a very kind word for what I was actually going to say."

Jaina chuckled softly.

The Jedi Master paused, the smile slipping from his lips as he looked down at her. The beeping of the monitors filled the air, and the wires tangled around her made a cold feeling settle in his stomach.

He couldn't bear the fact that she was the one putting on a brave face for him.

He was her guardian—her protector.

He was her Master—and her father.

The time for arguing was over. The time for fighting about this had passed. She'd made her choice.

He had to respect it.

Even if he hated it with every fiber of his being.

He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, fighting the burning in his eyes as his mind traveled briefly back to Naboo, to losing Qui-Gon.

Then to the Council Chambers. To that bright, hopeful look in her eyes as they recited the words that would bind their fates.

As it was… As it is… As it shall be…

"Jaina," Obi-Wan murmured quietly, his hand still lingering on her face. His voice shook slightly, and he hated himself for it. He couldn't lose his composure. Not now. Not in front of her.

He swallowed hard, clenching his jaw again, despite the fact that his mind continued to transport him to every training session they'd done, every meal they'd shared, every nightmare he'd soothed. "Jaina. You need to understand something."

Jaina squeezed his hand, closing her eyes tightly in a futile attempt to stop the tears. "…I know."

"No," he said gently, his eyes boring into hers. "No, you don't know, little one. Look at me."

He wanted to do nothing more than hold her. Wanted to pull her into an embrace, bury his face into her hair, and whisper in her ear that everything would be alright.

But he wouldn't. He couldn't. He had to remain in control.

He had to find the right words to assure her, to keep her calm, to make her understand.

He took in a slow breath, letting it out through his nose as he looked into her frightened eyes.

"You are my Padawan," he murmured. "You are my student. You are my responsibility. But, more importantly…" He swallowed, his voice growing even quieter. "You are loved."

"Do you understand that?"

Jaina nodded tearfully, gazing up at him and offering a small, soft smile. "…As are you."

Another sharp pang tore at his heart, but he fought desperately to keep it from showing on his face—he had to remain calm, he had to hold himself together, for her sake—

But the sheer affection, kindness, and compassion in her words was nearly his undoing.

Obi-Wan exhaled again, forcing himself to remain calm, even as his instincts were at war.

He reached out and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as the door to the medsuite opened once more.

Vokara slid the door closed behind her, holding up an IV bag filled with an innocuous-looking clear liquid. "We were able to synthesize the Damotite counteragents and run them through the hyperbiotics system. I also counterchecked with the GAR Medical Corps and Kamino, and they seem to have arrived at the same conclusion."

Obi-Wan nodded, his stomach twisting tightly at the thought of what was about to happen.

"Then we should proceed," he said quietly. He tried to sound calm. Composed. Confident. He cupped his little one's cheek one last time. "I'll be right here the entire time, dearest."

And he knew that he would be. He wouldn't leave her—not for food, not for water, and certainly not to rest.

He'd promised to be a responsible Master, who taught his Padawan well. He'd vowed to protect her from harm. He'd sworn to be loyal to her—not just as her Master, but as her guardian. Her friend. Her father. And none of those duties would be forsaken today.

Vokara hung the IV bag onto the pole, then opened a nearby drawer and began to make preparations. "I'll be administering general anesthesia for the procedure. We need to ensure that she remains still and calm, and because this treatment is experimental, it would be best for us to lessen the variables as much as we can."

Obi-Wan nodded again, not trusting himself to speak. He continued to focus on the feeling of his Padawan's soft skin beneath his fingertips, on the way she leaned into the touch without thought—a habit that she built over what felt like years.

He swallowed the burning in his eyes and throat again, forcing himself to focus on the Jedi Healer before him, and not the fact that the girl he'd made a vow to the Force to guide and protect was soon about to have dangerous chemicals pumped into her veins.

"I understand," he managed, taking one last steadying breath.

He was a Jedi Master, and he wasn't about to show weakness. Not even during a situation like this.

Vokara nodded sympathetically, holding out a small mask towards him, attached to one of the many, many machines. "Whenever you're ready."

Obi-Wan's hands trembled slightly as he accepted the mask from Vokara, but he pushed his emotions down, hardening his expression.

He looked down at his Padawan, who stared up at him with a brave expression in her eyes. She was trying so hard to be strong—even when he was struggling.

His heart ached.

His heart ached.

How desperately he wished that it were him lying on that bed, and not her.

"It'll be fine," Jaina whispered shakily, forcing another small smile. "See you in a bit. I promise."

Another pang in his heart.

A painful one.

He swallowed again. "I'll be here, the entire time. You have my word."

This little girl was so brave. So courageous. So strong.

He had never been more proud of her. Or more afraid for her.

Obi-Wan took one last deep breath. He gently held the mask to her face, carefully avoiding the small Padawan braid and the pink ribbons woven through it.

"Count backwards from fifty for me, my little one," he said softly.

Jaina's blue eyes stayed on his for several moments, as though she were drinking him in, memorizing his features. Trying to imprint this moment into her mind.

Then, she closed her eyes, and her voice was steady.

"Fifty…forty-nine…forty-eight…"

Obi-Wan found himself listening intently to every number his Padawan said—a desperate, agonizing attempt to stall her inevitable silence.

But this wasn't something that he could draw out. This was a procedure. This was a treatment that had to take place now, not later.

He took one last, lingering look at her eyes. At her face. At her hair, the little pink ribbon laced through the Padawan braid, before gently taking one of her hands, and squeezing it firmly.

"Thirty…twenty-nine…"

The beeps and hums of all the monitors and machines in the medsuite suddenly seemed so loud in his ears, as if their volume had been increased by some unknown force.

Or maybe it was the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

"…twenty-four…twenty…three…"

His chest tightened, and he had to force himself to stay still, in control. He couldn't let himself waver. He had to remain steady for her sake.

"…nineteen…eight…eight…teen…"

He could see the way the general anesthesia and the other drugs in the IV were beginning to take effect. Her voice was growing slower. Drowsier. Her hand had slackened in his.

He tightened his grip.

"…fif…thir…" Jaina's eyes fluttered closed.

He was aware that Vokara was preparing the IV bag, but he couldn't look away from his Padawan. Couldn't take his eyes off of her face. His chest burned.

"…el…ven…" Her voice was so, so soft now—her breathing slowing, her head lolling to the side…

His eyes stung fiercely. His chest ached.

He found himself clenching his jaw to keep his expression from crumpling. He had to be strong. Strong. For her sake.

"It should take four or five hours for the counteragent to begin taking effect," Vokara said quietly. "After then, we should see results in her white blood cell count instantaneously."

"Alright," he murmured, his voice rasping. He managed to tear his eyes off his still Padawan to glare directly at the Chief Healer. "And the side effects?"

"If there are any," Vokara began carefully. "They should manifest within the first hour. That is the reason for the general anesthesia, all life support devices are at the ready. We are in control."

He wanted to believe her. He wanted this to work. He wanted this to be safe—to be alright. His little one was depending on Vokara.

But still…

"And if something does go wrong?" he said tightly. "You yourself said, this is a highly experimental counteragent."

Vokara's stoic, calm expression faltered ever so slightly—just for an instant. "I also said that this was the only counteragent that could treat this specific version of Damotite poisoning," she stated, gesturing to the IV machines connected to her patient. "This is our first—and only, at the moment—hope to save her from possible imminent death. The risks, right now, are less than the rewards."

"We have emergency resuscitation methods standing by, in case of a full-body systemic shock," she added. "If she goes into hypotension, or experiences severe tachycardia, then—"

"—Don't." Obi-Wan held up a hand. "I don't need the details, Master Che," he interrupted. He didn't want to know.

"I know," Vokara said quietly. "However, I wanted you to know that we have every possible avenue covered. We will save your Padawan. I have not failed a single patient in my care, and I most certainly do not intend to today, Master Kenobi."

Obi-Wan nodded tersely. He took in a deep breath, forcing himself to calm. His feelings didn't override science. They didn't override logic.

Or the Will of the Force.

The Jedi Master exhaled heavily. "And now, we wait."

The hours had passed by in a hazy blur.

Her eyes—so exuberant during training, so calculating during missions, now closed.

Her cheeks—so easy to turn pink with the slightest of teasing, with the corniest of jokes, now pale.

Her lips—so quick to curl up into a smile, so eager to deliver a witty comeback, now parted, as a tube delivered air into her lungs.

Obi-Wan continued to silently hold her hand, Anakin now standing behind him, tightly clutching his former Master's shoulders, waiting for something—anything —good.

Something that would prove that this had all been worth it.

Finally, Vokara returned, her expression carefully bright as she gazed back and forth between two datapads.

"The results are promising," the Healer declared. "The counteragent has already begun to take effect within her system. Her white cell count is increasing rapidly and her bone marrow is producing new cells quickly."

"Likewise, everything appears to be in order," she continued, her eyes scanning one datapad. "Blood pressure, heartbeat, oxygen levels—all her vitals have returned to normal levels. My team is in the process of replicating the counteragent for you, Master Kenobi. We'll be able to prepare a dosage before you begin to even display any symptoms."

She stepped closer towards the bed. "She should be ready for extubation."

Obi-Wan nodded, watching as Vokara proceeded in gingerly removing the tube from her mouth, inserting a nasal cannula instead, as a replacement.

His heart felt lighter with every piece of equipment the Healer removed. The more normal his Padawan started to look.

Anakin's fingers tightened around his shoulders. "See? Told you," the Jedi Knight quipped. "She's gonna be fine. Just like I said. Your tough little Jedi is gonna be awake in no time."

Obi-Wan managed a weak smile. "I appreciate your optimism, Anakin," the Jedi Master said dryly. "But please, don't tempt the Force."

As if in response, Jaina stirred slightly with a soft, murmured sigh.

Vokara gently continued to remove the last of the breathing tube. "She's going to be groggy," she said softly. "And in a bit of discomfort…"

Her eyes still closed, Jaina faintly gagged and coughed up excess fluid as soon as the tube was fully removed, her entire body shaking slightly.

Obi-Wan immediately leaned forward, his grip on her hand tightening. "Shh…shh…" he murmured, gently reaching for the tissue and dabbing at the bile. "Shh…it's alright, little one. It's all over. You're safe now. You're safe, you're safe…"

Anakin hovered behind, watching as his former Master comforted his Padawan. A small, bittersweet smile played at his lips.

No one else could bring out Obi-Wan's soft side quite like the little Padawan—at least, no one Anakin had seen. There was an air of protectiveness—of paternal love that seemed to radiate from the older Jedi Master.

"I'll go and give Ahsoka the good news," he said quietly. "She's been going crazy."

Obi-Wan nodded, barely even registering Anakin as the Jedi Knight gave his shoulders a final, comforting squeeze before leaving the room with Vokara to give them some privacy.

Jaina groaned softly, her eyes fluttering beneath closed lids.

"Shhh…" Obi-Wan crooned gently, cupping his little girl's face. "Don't wake yet, my little one…shh…take all the rest you need…"

She groggily blinked her eyes open.

The moment her eyelashes fluttered apart, and Obi-Wan caught a glimpse of the familiar bright blue eyes staring back at him blearily, he exhaled heavily in relief.

"Oh, thank the Force," he breathed, feeling the tension in his body release. He clutched her hand tighter, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Hey, darling…" he whispered. "You're finally awake…"

Jaina blinked for several moments, through her blurry vision and her foggy mind. "Did…it…work…?"

Obi-Wan smiled down at her, gently stroking her hair. "It worked, dear one," he whispered. "You're going to be just fine. Good as new in no time…"

He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "The counteragent was successful in neutralizing the Damotite in your bloodstream—and they're in the process of replicating it for me, and for all the other captives Master Windu rescued from the Lanteeb facility."

Jaina stared up at him. "We're…we're going to be okay…?"

For the first time in days the Jedi Master felt the weight on his shoulders finally vanish.

Obi-Wan chuckled quietly, reaching out to brush his knuckles against her cheek. "Yes, we are going to be alright, my little one," he promised her, his voice soft. "We'll stay right here in the Halls of Healing for the next several days, until we're feeling one-hundred percent again. We're going be okay."

Jaina smiled softly, sliding her eyes closed for a moment. "Thank the Force…"

Obi-Wan smiled tenderly.

This was it.

His little girl had finally made it through his worst nightmare.

He just sat there, his eyes locked on her face, taking in her delicate features. The subtle rosy pink that had finally returned to her cheeks, the soft dimples that had returned to frame her lips—as if it was impossible for her to make a face other than a smile.

"We did it, my little one. We made it."

Jaina offered another warm smile. "No more bioweapon related missions in the near future," she teased wearily. "Please."

Obi-Wan smirked, gently squeezing her shoulder. "How about no more bioweapon missions at all, hmm?" he said, keeping his tone light, his words deliberately playful.

"Sounds perfect." Jaina grinned. "And all the files we took? Are they safe with the GAR Medical Corps, and the Jedi Healers?"

Obi-Wan nodded as a gentle and reassuring smile tugged at his lips. "Every file on all the ongoing Separatist projects is currently in the hands of Republic scientists," he assured, his thumb rubbing soothingly over her hand. "We've got the top minds working on vaccines for the Damotite poisoning, and the Blue Shadow Virus—the other Project you witnessed in that lab with Vindi."

"The Advanced Weapons Tech Division is likewise working on reinforcing shield generators against the Defoliator." He lightly tapped his finger against her freckled little nose. "The mission is over, my darling. All you need to do now is rest. Heal."

And for once, for once, the young Jedi Padawan seemed eager to listen.

She exhaled, sinking back against her pillow, her whole body seemingly deflating.

"Thank you, Master," she murmured. "For staying with me."

Obi-Wan smiled, gently squeezing her shoulder. "'You are mine, and I am yours'."

Jaina smiled softly. "'As it was. As it is. As it shall be'."

He lightly brushed his fingers across her hair, the pad of his thumb tracing gentle paths along her forehead and cheek, "We should get some rest, my little one. It has been a long week."

Jaina turned to the glance at the door as a loud knock erupted, followed by a squeaky, impatient voice—"Can I come visit now?!"

Her lips slowly curled into a small grin.

Obi-Wan grimaced. That was fast. He sighed quietly to himself as Jaina giggled. "Maybe come back in one more hour or—"

"—come in!" Jaina interrupted, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "That was not the sentence I intended to say." He shot her a playful scowl, pinching her cheek.

"What, really?" Jaina feigned confusion. "I could've sworn I had become the foremost expert at predicting the ends of your sentences…"

"You are the foremost expert at interrupting them," the Jedi Master shot back dryly. He sighed, gently tousling her hair. "And I mean it, young lady—this is not the right time to have visitors."

The knocking on the door resumed, once again coupled with a familiar voice calling to them. "Hey, I know you guys are in there and awake. I can hear you talking!"

A second voice outside groaned loudly.

Jaina giggled.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "That, my little one, is the sound of an impudent young Togruta with a severe case of patience issues," he drawled. "…and her grumpy Master."

"Really?" Jaina shrugged innocently. "Sounds like a really good friend coming in to visit, if you ask me…"

"Ah-ha, there's the issue," he pointed out dryly, leaning in conspiratorially. "I did not ask you."

He turned, calling toward the door, "You have five minutes, Ahsoka!"

The door burst open, and a hyperactive Padawan darted past the privacy curtain, Anakin following, looking like an amused and exhausted parent behind a rambunctious child.

"Sorry, Obi-Wan, I've been trying to teach her manners," Anakin grumbled, glaring towards Ahsoka.

Ahsoka scoffed lightly, rolling her eyes in amusement as she looked at Anakin. "You tried to teach me manners?" She repeated with a faint sarcastic laugh. "For the record: You failed."

"That much is obvious," Obi-Wan interjected with a faintly wry smirk. He reached out, gently catching Ahsoka's elbow as she tried to rush to Jaina's bedside. "Hey, hey, hey," he chided gently. "Careful, young one. She's still recovering."

Ahsoka paused in her steps, her eyes locking on Jaina, an expression of worry flashing over her face. "Ah, sorry," she murmured, slowly coming to rest against the edge of the bed. "Hey. You feeling better, J?"

Jaina smiled softly. "I'm doing okay now. Did I miss anything good?"

Ahsoka chuckled. "Depends on what you consider 'good'." She smirked mischievously. "But on the upside, I managed to catch Rex in an embarrassing moment during training last night."

Jaina's eyes twinkled. "What happened?"

Ahsoka smirked, tilting her chin back, "Well, I was helping Rex refine his hand-to-hand combat forms in the hangar—"

"—and you decided that 'helping' him consisted of tricking him into tripping over a toolbox you conveniently left on the floor—" Anakin chimed in dryly from the doorway.

Ahsoka tossed a smirk in his direction, "That's how the best teachers train, Skyguy. I would know, I learned from you."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, and carefully sat next to his little Padawan on the bed, fighting back an amused smirk as Anakin protested indignantly. "Hey! I never taught you that!"

"Maybe not verbally," Ahsoka quipped, shrugging. "But it's all in the subtext. I learned your teaching style, Master." The Togruta Padawan turned her attention back to her friend, her smirk growing wider. "Anyway, Rex's face as he wiped out was priceless. You would've loved it, J."

Jaina covered her mouth, suppressing a giggle. "Ahsoka!" she scolded playfully. "Tell me you at least helped back him up after that."

"Of course I did," Ahsoka said, nodding innocently. "I was a model of kindness and compassion. After I was done rolling on the floor laughing, I offered him an arm to pull him up."

Anakin smirked. "Right. She literally just sat there, holding out an arm for him to grab and giggling uncontrollably while I was the one who actually had to help him up."

"Hey, someone's got to keep morale up around here." Ahsoka protested as she tossed Anakin a mock-glare.

"Of course." Anakin rolled his eyes, grinning. "And fighting dirty during training and tripping people is definitely the way to do that, Snips."

From her spot on the bed, leaning against her Master's side, Jaina's shoulders shook from suppressed laughter at the mental image.

The Jedi Master huffed, gently rubbing a hand across her shoulders."You are far too amused by this."

"I'm just imagining his face," Jaina said, giggling and resting her head against his shoulder. "I truly enjoy living vicariously through you, A."

Ahsoka smirked, crossing her arms. "You're welcome."

Anakin groaned, sinking down on the chair across from the bed. "Oh, please. Don't encourage her."

"I thought you liked being encouraging, Master?" Ahsoka quipped.

Anakin shot her an exaggeratedly deadpan look.

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Be careful, Ahsoka. One of these days, you might end up tripping over a toolbox yourself. And that won't be very 'encouraging'."

Jaina choked on a giggle.

Obi-Wan smirked, gently ruffling his Padawan's hair. "And you, my little one—don't make yourself laugh too hard, or you're going to start coughing."

Jaina leaned more into her Master's side, her chuckles slowly dying down. "But it feels so good to laugh again."

Meanwhile, Anakin eyed her for a moment, a small frown creasing his brow. "How're you feeling?"

Obi-Wan's gaze flicked to Anakin, his expression softening. For all his recklessness and mischief, his former Padawan was an incredibly empathetic person at heart, and a fierce, caring friend.

Jaina offered a wan smile. "Better, I think. Still a bit sore and…generally exhausted. But my head's no longer killing me, and it's not an uphill battle to breathe so…I consider that a win." She chuckled dryly. "I can't wait to get out of here, I think I'm going stir-crazy."

Obi-Wan scoffed. "You and I both. I'm so tired of the bland Med Wing food. And it's been killing my back, sleeping in that chair for the past four days."

"Wait…" Jaina blinked, as it suddenly just dawned on her. "You've—you've—you've been sleeping in that chair?! For the past four days?!" Her jaw dropped. The Padawan began to scooch in an attempt to adjust herself on the bed and make some more space. "Master, you should've—"

Obi-Wan let out a long, drawn-out sigh, his eyes rolling to the ceiling. "You're worried about me, my little one?" He said wryly, his voice filled with amusement as he gently brushed the hair off her face with his hand. "Don't." He continued, his voice turning slightly more stern. "You have enough to worry about. There's no reason you should also worry about your old man. This wasn't the first time I've slept in a chair, and it likely will not be the last."

Jaina paused as she took in her Master's steely expression: his chin tilted up, his jaw set, his eyes sharp and his brows furrowed. There was no arguing this.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was never one to waver, not when he had his mind made up.

She sighed and rolled her own eyes, frowning. "Hmph."

The Jedi Master smirked, shaking his head. "Do not pout at me, young lady. I have survived much worse than sleeping in a chair. And if you keep up your ridiculous, petulant pouting, you will leave me no choice but to give you a hug in front of these two. And I know how much you'd hate for that to happen…"

His expression remained stern, but his voice was filled with playfulness.

Jaina blinked in shock for a moment, then her eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't dare…not with those two clowns here…"

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "Are you challenging me, young one?"

Anakin smirked, his elbows resting on his knees. "Oh, this should be good."

Jaina narrowed her eyes even further.

"Oh, don't look at me like that." Obi-Wan said, his voice laced with humor. "It only goads me into doing it."

She smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "Our stern, stoic High General wouldn't dare being seen as a big softie, now would he?"

"The High General wouldn't, no…" Obi-Wan smirked back, shaking his head slightly. "…But the father certainly wouldn't mind."

His smirk widened. "In fact, he would love nothing more than to make his little one all red-faced and mortified at this particular moment, after she spent the past few days in the Med Wing."

Jaina froze, her cheeks warming at the mere prospect of being humiliated in front of those two—

Anakin burst out into hysterical snickers, while Ahsoka bit into the inside of her cheek to choke back her giggles.

Obi-Wan continued, his voice turning more and more smug. "…And you should know, the father has no shame. He doesn't care who sees his little one being squished and cuddled like a stuffed tooka toy."

Jaina flushed. "You-you wouldn't…it would be against proper decorum and-and—"

Obi-Wan chuckled, his eyes shining with smug playfulness. "It's a good thing we're in private then, isn't it?"

"But Anakin and Ahsoka—"

"—aren't going to say a word about it," Anakin chimed in, still snickering. "So long as it means new material to tease the littlest one."

"Oh-oh no—no way—" Jaina murmured, her flush deepening at the thought of those two gaining even more ammunition.

Obi-Wan's smirk widened into a wolfish grin. "Ah, yes…red-faced as a Chandrilan beet. I'm assuming you would like to avoid this situation, my little one?"

"Okay, okay, okay, you win! I apologize for the little pout," she groaned, rolling her eyes and raising her hands up. "Happy?"

"Delighted." He deadpanned.

Anakin was practically snorting with snickers and barely-repressed cackles. It was a sound rare and difficult to pull from the Jedi Knight, but one his former Master was very skilled at extracting—oftentimes at his own expense.

Meanwhile, Ahsoka had to bite her cheek to hold back her giggles, covering her grin with her hand as she gazed at her dear friend's scarlet complexion.

Jaina groaned. "You know, Master, I work really hard to maintain my image, and you're the only person capable of ruining it in the span of five seconds," she grumbled, with a wry sigh.

"Oh, I'm perfectly aware." The Jedi Master said cheerfully, his voice dripping with dryness. "But I've never been one to shy away from the truth. So I will gladly take the reputation for being the cause of said image's demise."

Anakin snorts grew even louder—while Ahsoka continued to snicker. This whole interaction was just too perfect.

"Besides, I think it's my job as your Master and as your father figure to embarrass you every now and then," Obi-Wan added, his arms reaching around her shoulders, embracing her tightly. He pressed a mocking kiss against her temple. "And we both know I excel at it."

Jaina's ears flared as Anakin's and Ahsoka's laughter echoed around the room. "Master…" she groaned.

"What's wrong, little one?" He asked, frowning in feigned innocence and thoroughly enjoying just how red his little Padawan's freckled cheeks were.

"I'm going to get you back for this," Jaina grumbled.

"I can already imagine all the different ways you're going to try," Obi-Wan whispered teasingly, his arms wrapping around his squishy Padawan even tighter. He looked over to see the playful and teasing looks on both Anakin's and Ahsoka's faces as they continued to snicker, finding this all too enjoyable.

She was adorable when she was flustered and embarrassed—and it was such a change of pace from the stiff fourteen year-old she usually was. He held her just a little bit tighter, resting his cheek atop her head, and glancing briefly at the medical monitors once more, relieved to see them beeping steadily.

"…But you know, dearest…we've both needed this."

Jaina paused for a moment…

…then eventually leaned her own head against his chest, wrapping her much shorter arms around his waist.

Obi-Wan's face immediately softened, and he was suddenly filled with pride, affection, and a deep sense of contentment, as he felt his little girl rest against him.

The worst was over. For now.

And for all that Obi-Wan Kenobi was—stern Jedi Master, feared General of the Grand Army of the Republic, respected Member of the High Council…he thoroughly adored being the gentle father to his kind, soft, squishy little Padawan.

He held on just a little tighter, pressing another kiss to the top of her head. "Oh, my little one…" He whispered softly, closing his eyes wearily.

"Thank the Force you are safe."