Master Apprentice Archive Damage Control Quick search:

Damage Control

by MrsHamill (thamill@cox.net)

Archive: MA, WWOMB, and my site, Mom's Kitchen (www.squidge.org/~foxsden)
Category: Drama; H/C; angst
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: PG
Summary: Qui-Gon has some healing to do -- whether he wants to or not.
Disclaimer: What, you think I own these guys? Do I even look like George Lucas? If this is not what you expected, please alter your expectations. No such thing as random coincidence. No such thing as too much lubricant. (Thank you, Mark Morford.)
Warning: Angst. Boatloads of angst.
Series: Yes, the post-Wheel series, which started with Sometimes, You Fly. This picks up about a week and a half after Cueca Solo and immediately after Postcards from the Edge.
Notes: This took far longer to write than I thought it would. The ever-patient Claude has been indispensable here, thwapping me when I needed it and ended up beta'ing it four or five times. Emila-Wan made me cut whole chunks out of it, and found all my wordy words, and I can't thank her enough either. Camille batted clean-up, always a tough job, and showed the patience of a saint. And, a last note; Jax won the last round, since she immediately knew who Apath'na was. Fifteen points to whoever recognizes the name of Sasha's baby first (Claude, you're exempt)!

Qui-Gon Jinn awoke slowly to the most beautiful sight in his universe -- Obi-Wan Kenobi's sleeping face. It wasn't unusual that he was the first one awake, and he loved those times when he could watch consciousness seep into the beloved features of his mate.

It wasn't until he tried to caress Obi-Wan's cheek that he realized Obi-Wan wasn't next to him in bed -- he was, in fact, sitting on a chair and slumped over the bed on which Qui-Gon rested. A bed which, oddly enough, didn't seem to be in their quarters. Qui-Gon looked around muzzily and realized he was in a room in the Healers' wing. He started to yawn, then winced -- his lip was sore. In fact, now that he was awake, other parts of him were chiming in with damage reports, and some parts appeared to be quite strident in their objections.

He must have made some noise for Obi-Wan's head jerked up, his sleep-clouded eyes blinking and seeking Qui-Gon. "You're awake," he whispered.

Qui-Gon opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't get anything better than a croak, which hurt. Quite a lot of him hurt, he noticed.

"Here's some water. Sip very slowly," Obi-Wan said.

The bulb must have been sitting on an ice pack, for the water was wonderfully cold and felt like heaven going down his throat. It took him a couple of tries, but eventually he was able to make a sound other than a weak rasp. "Why... Wha... ?" he managed. He was extremely sore but not so much as that, and if Obi-Wan was here, too... He tried to see if there were bandages on Obi-Wan, but his neck wouldn't move that far up.

"You're at the Healers'," Obi-Wan said. Well, obviously, Qui-Gon wanted to reply. "Do you remember what happened?"

He wracked his brain, but for the life of him Qui-Gon couldn't think of where they had last been. A speeder accident maybe? His ribs were very sore, and his arm was in an immobilizing cast down to his fingertips. Carefully, he shook his head.

"It's all right," Obi-Wan said.

Obi-Wan looked very pale and there were dark circles under his eyes. Qui-Gon managed to raise his hand to cup Obi-Wan's cheek. "You all right?" he half-croaked, half-whispered.

Obi-Wan swallowed and chuckled weakly. "I am fine," he said, his voice equally soft. "You're the one that's in bad shape."

Puzzled, Qui-Gon took a quick inventory of his aches and pains. "I don't... don't feel that bad..." he said.

"That's because you have a nerve block from the waist down."

He did? Oh. "Oh," Qui-Gon said, still puzzled.

There was a light tap on the door and Maul stuck his head in. "The healers said... You're awake!"

Qui-Gon smiled and managed to lift his hand in greeting, though it seemed terrible heavy. Maul came all the way into the room and moved to the other side of the bed from Obi-Wan, which was when Qui-Gon noticed the IV drip into his neck. Odd how he hadn't noticed that before. "How do you feel?" Maul asked gently, patting his arm above the cast.

"Confused?" Qui-Gon managed to say. He turned back to Obi-Wan who obligingly held the bulb of water to his lips again. The straw -- actually the whole bulb -- was trembling slightly, something that Qui-Gon noticed but was too bemused to comment on.

Maul chuckled. "I think I can understand that." He looked across the bed at Obi-Wan. "The Healers said that the quarantine was lifted last night. They took my blood, too, you know."

"No, I didn't know," Obi-Wan replied. Because Qui-Gon was watching Obi-Wan, he could see that Obi-Wan wouldn't look at Maul, and that bothered him.

"Apparently, I wasn't there long enough for the contaminants to get through," Maul continued. "I'm glad they found a way to neutralize them."

"Uh-huh," Obi-Wan said.

Qui-Gon looked away from Obi-Wan to Maul, who was looking at Obi-Wan. There was a very concerned look on Maul's face, and it worried Qui-Gon. He wanted to say something, but the words kept sliding out of his head.

"You look much better, Qui-Gon," Maul said with a smile. "You've missed all the fun over the last week. We'll have to fill you in on it. When you feel up to it, anyway."

The last week?

"I just wanted to stop by to see how you were," Maul was saying. "Obi-Wan. Get some sleep, now. Real sleep, in a bed. Please?"

"I'm all right," Obi-Wan said. Well, that was patently untrue.

"Sure," Maul said, so he clearly didn't believe it either. "Qui-Gon, when you finally break out of here, let me know. I'd like to have the two of you over for dinner... to meet Jayden." Maul looked quite young when he blushed, Qui-Gon thought.

"It'll be a while longer," Obi-Wan said. "I'm looking forward to meeting him."

Maul gave Obi-Wan another look that was all pursed-lip concern, then patted Qui-Gon on the arm again before leaving. There was something definitely wrong with Obi-Wan, and it was bothering Qui-Gon, though he had difficulty in figuring out why. Before he could say anything, Healer Tallis AnBatRa walked into the room.

"Good afternoon, Qui-Gon," she said, smiling at both of them. "Obi-Wan, you might want to go home now, take a nap and change."

"I'll be all right," Obi-Wan said in a mumble.

Tallis shook her head. "No, you won't, but we'll let it slide for the next five minutes. How are you feeling, Qui-Gon?"

"Confused," Qui-Gon said again. Well, that was the truth... he was very sore but he was more confused than anything.

She walked to his side and checked the drip in his neck and looked into his face. "How much do you hurt? And don't try to lie to me because I'll know."

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes. Tallis was just as blunt as her clan-mate, Loral AmKaRa. "I... I'm a bit sore," he conceded. "My arm doesn't hurt, but it itches. And my ribs hurt. Were they broken?"

"Two of them, yes," she said, giving him a sharp look. "It's not unusual for skin to be irritated beneath a cast. It can probably come off tomorrow, if the scan shows the bones healed properly. Your ribs will be very tender for another week, I think. You shouldn't feel anything below the waist -- do you?"

"No," Qui-Gon said. He tried to lift his head to look down his body, but was stopped by both Tallis' hand and explosive pain in his neck and head. "Ow," he murmured.

"Don't do that," she said, unnecessarily. "You're flat for a reason. Do you have any dizziness, nausea, or pain beyond severe discomfort?"

Severe discomfort? Define severe discomfort, Qui-Gon thought. "I don't think so," he finally replied.

"Good," Tallis said. "You're on a narcotic for pain relief, so remember, it could affect your judgment. How is your feel of the Force?"

It was difficult to focus, now that she mentioned that. Qui-Gon closed his eyes and drunkenly centered himself. The Force came to his call, though it seemed to be sluggish. "I can feel it, but it's a bit distant," he said. "As though it's behind a curtain. That's from the meds?"

"Yes," Tallis confirmed. "Your midi-chlorian levels are back up to where they should be. I'm going to discontinue the spinal block, so we'll need to keep you on the narcotic for now. If the pain becomes too intense, we'll reinstate the block."

Good heavens. What had he gotten himself into? "When can I go home?" he asked.

"It will be a few more days, Qui-Gon," Tallis said. "At the very least. Obi-Wan -- no. Knight Kenobi. As your healer I am ordering you to return to your quarters long enough for a shower and change of clothing -- to put it bluntly, you stink. You can return immediately, if you'd like, as if you wouldn't anyway." She shook her head and glared at him. "I'm going to have another bed set up in here as soon as Ser Showat can get me one, since you refuse to leave, and Qui-Gon will probably need you once the block wears off. Do it now, sir."

Obi-Wan looked as though he'd like to argue with her, but didn't have the energy. Slumping, he leaned over the bed and kissed Qui-Gon briefly. "I'll be right back," he murmured, then left the room. Qui-Gon didn't like the way he dragged his feet, and frowned.

"Obi-Wan," he began, but Tallis interrupted him.

"Obi-Wan has been at your side for the last week, Qui-Gon, and has been helpful in that even in an induced coma, you seem to do better when he's near. Dotrick has volunteered to counsel both of you, once we get your injuries squared away, though I think she's insane to offer."

"Counsel us?" Qui-Gon was having such a difficult time focusing, but he knew that didn't sound right. Why would she need to counsel him?

"Yes, both of you," Tallis said. She began fiddling with the drip that went into his neck. "There. The block should wear off naturally over the next five to six hours. I'll be monitoring you carefully." She perched on the side of the bed. "How much do you remember?"

"Nothing," Qui-Gon said. "How did I get myself into such a mess, Lissa?" he asked, his voice plaintive. "I don't remember anything."

"That's perfectly normal," Tallis replied. "A combination of the drugs, the induced coma and your injuries. You'll remember soon enough, and then you'll wish you could forget." Her face reflected her concern, and it made Qui-Gon swallow nervously. What in the world could he have done to himself?

"Obi-Wan should be back shortly, unless he falls asleep in the shower," Tallis said. She patted his cast and rose. "I've increased the narcotic dosage just slightly, so you'll probably want to sleep soon. Don't fight it. I'll be nearby."

"All right," Qui-Gon said, then yawned. She must have been understating the case, for he was almost asleep before she left the room. He had a sudden urge to beg her not to go, to stay and not leave him here alone... but it was overwhelmed by somnolence. Besides, he had no reason to be afraid of being alone.

Hadn't he?

Obi-Wan tried to work up some surprise when he saw Maul leaning against the wall opposite Qui-Gon's room, but he was simply too tired. "The healer said I should wait for you," Maul said.

Figures, Obi-Wan thought. "Doesn't surprise me," he managed to say in a halfway decent tone. "You've been put in charge of me, then?"

Maul looked askance at him. "Hardly," he replied. "I wouldn't want it if it were offered -- no offense, Obi-Wan, but I think I'd rather herd felines than try to get either of you to do anything you don't want to do."

That was actually funny, though Obi-Wan couldn't really figure out why he thought so. Maul stepped forward and began walking with him. "Well, I'd rather have you than Healer AnBatRa," Obi-Wan murmured.

"Thank you, I think," Maul said. "When she told me she was going to order you home to shower and change, I agreed it would be a good idea to have someone walk with you, to make sure no one ambushed you along the way."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "Oh, please," he said. He'd wanted to make an even more caustic remark, but he was simply too tired.

"I'm not being funny," Maul said. "Trouble seems to find you. Sometimes I think we should set up a bodyguard contingent for the two of you. We could have a lottery to see who would draw the duty. Loser gets it."

"Stop it," Obi-Wan said, trying hard not to chuckle. Maul had certainly changed over the past year, and Obi-Wan liked that change. "I mean it. I'm in no mood to be... to be...brought out of my mood," he finally finished. It sounded lame even to his ears.

Maul grinned at him. "I know you're tired when you can't even be sarcastic," he said. "Let's get you back to your quarters. You can shower and change. I'll make you something to eat."

"You don't..." Obi-Wan barely had the energy to censor himself. He didn't mean to be sharp with Maul, who was a good friend. A true friend.

"No, I don't," Maul said, still smiling. "But I'm going to anyway."

Sighing, Obi-Wan just nodded. His curious numbness -- the icy wall he'd built up around his heart over the past few weeks -- had slowly been melting away, and he was terrified to find out what emotions were behind it. Qui-Gon was finally out of danger and awake, and he knew things were going to happen. Things would have to be talked about. Dotrick had already come to see him, and given him a very lengthy, quiet lecture, one that he really didn't want to hear. Not, of course, that it stopped her.

The main corridors were jammed with Jedi, now that all of them had come home to roost. Weaving between groups of various species were the Temple's infrastructure crew, many of whom looked as tired as Obi-Wan felt. Dealing as he had with Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan didn't have time to wonder just what the Council was thinking in bringing all the Jedi home.

"Have you heard anything from the Council?" he asked Maul.

"Nothing." Maul frowned. "Nothing from either," he added, his emphasis meaning both the full Council and their own, private mini-Council. "I have no idea what's going on."

They walked in silence until they reached Obi-Wan's apartment. As soon as the door was closed, Maul added, "Though I have heard a very interesting rumor."

"What?" Obi-Wan asked, sitting and trying to tug off his boots. They almost felt as though they were welded on.

Maul knelt before him and helped. "Knight Ventress -- do you know her?"

Obi-Wan tried to think, tried to get past the serious exhaustion he felt. "Um... don't think so."

"Asajj Ventress. Apparently, she was Dooku's padawan. She's disappeared."

"You're joking," Obi-Wan said, his jaw dropping. He didn't know which bothered him more -- that Dooku had had a padawan or that she had remained above suspicion all this time.

"No, I'm not. It looks as though the Council has found the traitor." Having helped Obi-Wan get his boots off, Maul pulled him to his feet. "Come here, I'll show you." He moved to the dataset and logged in. After a few keystrokes, a picture accompanied by a biography appeared.

Obi-Wan was looking over Maul's shoulder, and when the holo appeared, he staggered, nearly falling onto Maul. "Gods," he muttered. For some reason, there suddenly wasn't enough air in the room.

"What?" Maul turned and hauled him back upright. "What?"

"A woman," Obi-Wan said, remembering the gundark Darjahn's words -- all of them. "Human, but not Gi. Pale and beautiful; bald, with tattoos on her head. Gave them weapons, and a drug. Oh, gods."

"On Gi?" Maul's eyes grew wide. "Did you see her?"

"No, only heard that description." Obi-Wan stumbled back to land heavily on the sofa. "She's the one. It was Tyrannus." He buried his head in his hands.

Maul sat on the sofa next to him, put an arm around him. "Go get your shower. I'll take care of it." When Obi-Wan didn't move, Maul squeezed him. "Don't think about it," he advised. "Just worry about Qui-Gon. That's all you have to do right now. I'll take care of it."

After a moment, Obi-Wan managed a weak nod. He swallowed back the bile that had risen in his throat and breathed deeply, trying to avoid hyperventilating. Maul helped him to his feet and sent him into the 'fresher with a gentle shove.

"Shout if you need help," Maul said quietly. As Obi-Wan left the room, he could see Maul heading for the dataset.

While it was tempting to give into the hysteria that was trying to bubble out of him, that really wouldn't be fair to Maul. He'd already helped both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon enough lately.

Think about Qui-Gon. Well, yes, he could do that, but that was just as frightening. Qui-Gon's torture had been horrific, the injuries on him were incredible. Obi-Wan knew from experience that while it would take some time for the external injuries to heal, the internal injuries could take forever -- and they were worse. Far worse.

After Dotrick's lecture, she had given him a long, hard look. He knew she was sifting through his thoughts and memories, and he let her, gladly. It was hard enough to think them -- he didn't want to have to voice them. Or put them into a report for the Council -- something he'd been putting off for as long as he could.

On auto-pilot, he showered, cleaning himself thoroughly. He was glad that there was sufficient hot water at this time in the afternoon, because sonics simply wouldn't have given him the same satisfaction. A part of him knew that he was compensating, that he was feeling unclean because of what he'd done and said on Gi, but that was just another thing to shove aside in favor of being numb.

Numb worked just fine. He could keep that up for a while longer.

Dispassionately, he noticed that he did feel better after a shower and a change of clothes. There was a warm, wonderful smell coming from the kitchen, and he followed it out of his bedroom and into the common room. "Sit," Maul told him, indicating a chair. "You've got enough frozen food in your cold box for several weeks, so I just warmed this up."

Confused, Obi-Wan looked down at the soup Maul placed before him. "I do?"

Maul chuckled. "You do. Compliments of me, Loral and Sasha, Bant, Siri and several others. Sasha said to tell you it's part of her nesting phase."

"The baby!" Obi-Wan dropped his spoon before he began to eat. "Has she had the baby?"

"Not yet," Maul replied, with a pointed look at his soup. As Obi-Wan picked up his spoon and actually began eating, Maul sat down opposite him with his own bowl. "She looks ready to pop. The healers say any moment now."

Grateful for the chance to think about something other than Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan let himself contemplate Sasha's baby. "I've never seen a cross between human and Hhrrrrisssta. There were bets over whether the baby will have a tail."

"I think those have been settled, as of the last scan," Maul said. "There's definitely something there. The baby is so much smaller than pure human baby, though. It's so odd, especially given her size."

"Not a good thing to mention," Obi-Wan said dryly. "She didn't want to have a litter, like a female Hhrrrrisssta would," he continued, in explanation. The soup was delicious and it filled a hole he hadn't known was there until he started eating. "Since the entire thing had to take place in vitro, they just chose the embryo with the best chance of making it."

"Too much information," Maul said with a grimace. "I'm just waiting until after the baby's born. Do you want more soup?"

Surprised, Obi-Wan glanced down and realized his bowl was empty. "No, I'm fine, I think. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Maul said, smiling. "Get some shoes on, and we'll go back. I've got a meeting with Master Yoda in an hour, but I can sit with you until then, if you want me to."

Sudden constriction in his throat made Obi-Wan look away. How in the world had he managed to find a friend like Maul? And wasn't he being particularly maudlin today? "I'll be all right," he managed to say, rubbing at his eyes. "Thank you." He seemed to be using those two phrases a lot these days. At least this time they managed to come out sincerely.

Waiting for Qui-Gon to wake up again gave Obi-Wan a lot of time to think. Not, of course, that he wanted to think, but there wasn't much else to do, and strange, terrifying thoughts kept popping up, insisting on his attention. Seeing a holo of Asajj Ventress and realizing that she was the one who had caused the mess on Gi made him shake. But that only led to more questions -- if it was Tyrannus and Ventress who had set them up, why were they still alive? Why not kill them outright, since they apparently had killed literally thousands of other Jedi all over the galaxy?

So many things going on made no sense to him. Ten thousand plus Jedi all crammed into the main Temple -- why? Why would the Council want to make such a big target? Were they trying to find Tyrannus and Ventress as well? Where was Fett? Was it him or one of the stolen clones that had been sighted killing Jedi?

He wanted out of this sick room. He wanted Qui-Gon to be fine again so they could go hunting together. He knew he could find Tyrannus, knew that between the three of them, they could track down Fett and the rest. But even Maul was still in-Temple, and he had the best chance. Why not at least send him out?

As the afternoon wore on, Qui-Gon's sleep became increasingly restless. Obi-Wan watched him carefully, listening to his moans as the nerve-block wore off and more pain asserted itself, knowing that this waking would be much worse than the one before. Obi-Wan kept one of Qui-Gon's hands in his, hoping to calm and reassure his husband as he woke. Workers came and installed a cot near Qui-Gon's bed, apologizing for the tardiness and for intruding. Obi-Wan smiled at them but didn't speak, he just waited... waited for the explosion he was certain would come.

When it did, it came from an unexpected source. The door opened and Dotrick hurried in, a painfully worried expression on her scaly face. "He's broadcasting," she said, moving to Qui-Gon's side.

Obi-Wan blinked at the terse words. He still held Qui-Gon's hand, which was becoming increasingly sweaty. Dotrick leaned over Qui-Gon and touched his face. "Qui-Gon?" she said, clearly and loudly. "I need you to wake, now, Qui-Gon. You're not a prisoner any longer. You must wake now."

Qui-Gon began to thrash -- as well as he was able to -- and moan. Obi-Wan stood and helped Dotrick hold him down, keep him from hurting himself. With a hoarse bellow, Qui-Gon opened his eyes. Obi-Wan could feel him try to gather the Force to him, but Dotrick was able to block him somehow.

"No," she said firmly. "Do not reach for the Force. You're safe now, Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan is here, you're at the Temple. That's it, calm down."

Slowly, Qui-Gon settled back on the bed. He was panting and sweating, looking between Dotrick and Obi-Wan wildly. "It's all right," Obi-Wan murmured. "I'm here."

"Little gods," Qui-Gon said. His voice still sounded raw. Obi-Wan offered the bulb of water to him again and he sipped, calming even further. "I... Obi-Wan?"

"I'm here," Obi-Wan repeated. "You're safe."

"You found me."

"Yes," Obi-Wan said with a smile. "I'll always find you."

The hand Obi-Wan still held squeezed awkwardly around its splinted digits. "Thank you," Qui-Gon whispered. "Thank you."

Sitting back down, Obi-Wan pressed their joined hands to his cheek. Dotrick perched on the opposite side of the bed. "You remember?" she asked, and Qui-Gon nodded, never taking his gaze from Obi-Wan. "Good. It will make it easier to work through the trauma."

Qui-Gon took a deep breath, then winced in pain. "I'll be fine," he said. "I think I know now why Lissa kept a nerve block on me."

"The damage was fairly extensive," Dotrick agreed. "You spent three days in bacta and another few in an induced coma while you healed. Your stitches have been absorbed properly, and the bones look like they've all knitted well." She gently turned his head so he was looking at her. "The soft tissue injuries will take a while longer to heal -- bones are easy, but there's little we can do about tissues."

"I know," Qui-Gon, wincing again. "I'll just have to deal with it. Can I go into a healing trance?"

"Not yet," Dotrick said firmly. "You're still under the influence of a narcotic, and your mental state is nowhere near enough stable."

"But a healing trance would help--" Qui-Gon began, only to be interrupted by Dotrick.

"I said no, Qui-Gon," she said. "Not yet. I'll let you know when it's safe to do so." She glanced at Obi-Wan. "And don't try to talk him into letting you. I've tagged both of you and will be monitoring you carefully," she added, and Obi-Wan thought, that's how she knew Qui-Gon was broadcasting.

Qui-Gon looked too weary to argue further. "All right, all right," he said, relaxing with another wince. "For the record, however, I feel perfectly able to do so."

"I'm sure you do," Dotrick said. The tone of her voice, however, said something completely different. "Rest today. You're on a fairly high dose of narcotic, which Tallis will reduce slowly over the next day or so. Once you're able to sit up without discomfort, we'll start physical and mental therapy."

Qui-Gon's hand in Obi-Wan's tightened at her words. She apparently wasn't quite done, however, and gave both of them a serious look. "I have to ask this of you, now that Qui-Gon is fully awake and cognizant," she added. "Do you agree to my being your primary therapist? Please think carefully over that question. I've offered for several reasons, including the fact that I've been briefed on your mission to Kamino." Obi-Wan blinked in surprise at that -- it was still considered classified around the Temple. "There is a conflict of interest, you realize, in my treating both of you." She looked between them. "I promise I will be as impartial as I can, but I know the two of you very well by now, having treated Obi-Wan for so many years and, by extension, you as well, Qui-Gon."

Obi-Wan swallowed. He supposed, in essence, that was true. "If you have any reservations about my treating both of you, now is the time to say so. We can find someone else for you, Qui-Gon."

They looked at each other. Qui-Gon's eyes were focused, but Obi-Wan could tell he was running out of energy. Then, Qui-Gon smiled softly. "I have no objection," he murmured.

"I don't either," Obi-Wan said.

"Thank you," Dotrick said. "I'll try to live up to your trust. Rest now, Qui-Gon." She nodded to both of them and swept out of the room.

"I think I understand now why you find your sessions with her so draining," Qui-Gon said, turning back to Obi-Wan. He started to yawn then grimaced. "Damn, my side is sore."

"Healer AnBatRa said that would be painful for a while," Obi-Wan said, settling more comfortably on the chair. He had not let go of Qui-Gon's hand. "I broke a rib once, and it just seemed to hurt forever. Do you want more water?"

"Yes, please," Qui-Gon murmured. He sipped through the straw, being careful not to move his head up. "I hate having to lie flat," he complained. His words were becoming slurred as the adrenaline from his hard waking wore off. "Everything hurts."

"I know," Obi-Wan said softly. "Let yourself go, relax into the drugs. You can't go into a trance yet, but you can stop fighting the pain."

"That's a nice thought, but rather difficult to do," Qui-Gon said. His voice was querulous, bordering on peevish, and Obi-Wan smiled. If he was able to complain, he must be feeling better. Qui-Gon caught the smile and he narrowed his eyes. "Don't you laugh at me, Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said, raising one eyebrow.

"Perish the thought," Obi-Wan replied. "You might as well try to sleep," he added. "You probably won't get a lot of that anymore, now that you're out of the coma."

"People have been dropping by, have they?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. "The quarantine was lifted last night, but regardless, Yoda and Mace have been here every day to see you snore."

"I do not snore," Qui-Gon said -- or tried to say. The last word tried to come out as a yawn and his eyelids were drooping. "What quarantine?"

"I'll explain it later, you sleep," Obi-Wan said quietly.

"Don' wanna," Qui-Gon protested. "Wha' quarantine?"

Sighing, Obi-Wan gave up. "Turns out the Gi were fighting very dirty," he said. "Biological as well as atomic weapons. There was enough contaminants left in the atmosphere to affect both of us, but the healers figured out how to neutralize it last night." Qui-Gon was having such a hard time keeping his eyelids up, Obi-Wan thought with a mental head shake. Stubborn man. "The reason they wanted to join the Republic came clear as well: they're basically infertile now, due to the poison in the atmosphere. The lower castes, the fighters, were the first affected, but apparently now, the upper castes are as well. Once the upper castes were poisoned, they decided to join the Republic with cooked noodles and homemade soup... Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon's eyes had closed completely and his breathing had leveled out. He hadn't let go of Obi-Wan's hand, but that was fine, since Obi-Wan had no intentions of letting go any time soon, either.

Qui-Gon's third waking was not nearly as wrenching as his second. Still half-asleep, he did an inventory of what was aching on his body. Everything from his toenails to his hair hurt, it seemed, but he could distract himself with trying to isolate individual pains.

His feet were a solid, throbbing mass, especially his left foot. He thought there might have been broken bones in it. His left knee was very tender, and after a moment he realized it was immobilized. Probably in a cast, like his arm, but he wasn't about to try to lift his head again. The folly of that motion was deeply ingrained after his one attempt. Moving up his body, he realized that he had a lot of pain centered on and around his groin. His mind skittered away from that, reluctant to dwell on it. It did appear as though he had a catheter in place, but that was easily dismissed. The tenderness in his lower abdomen he remembered from his imprisonment was gone, but he felt the skin pull from where it had been stitched. Internal injuries then, along with the two broken ribs.

Suddenly exhausted again, he stopped thinking about his injuries when he got to his face and realized how much of it was tender. Obi-Wan was right -- he should just let it go, relax and let the narcotics hold him up. Unfortunately, that was not in his nature.

What he wanted to do was to trance down, and let his body go into a rejuvenating state. The thought was so tempting that he had actually begun to do it when a familiar voice said, "Stop that now you shall."

Oh, shit. Rolling his head away from Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon managed to drag his eyes open half way. "Hullo, Master," he slurred.

Yoda was perched on a chair opposite from Obi-Wan, who still held Qui-Gon's hand. "Gotten yourself into a mess, you have," Yoda said. His voice was much smoother and quieter than normal, something Qui-Gon was grateful for. "Feel better you will, soon enough. Tempt fate further you will not."

Sighing, Qui-Gon agreed. "All right. I'll behave."

Obi-Wan snorted and even Yoda looked amused at that. "Do the impossible, you should not," Yoda said. His ears were all the way up. "How feel you, Padawan?"

"Like I was hit by a cargo-hover after being run down by a speeder," Qui-Gon replied after a moment to gather his scattered thoughts. He gingerly rolled his head over to look at Obi-Wan -- a much better view. "Did Lissa say when I could sit up?"

"No," Obi-Wan replied. "You can ask her yourself shortly, though. She should be back any minute."

Qui-Gon gently squeezed the hand he still held, despite the throbbing that created in his partially-healed fingers. "I'm glad you're here," he whispered.

"No place I'd rather be," Obi-Wan replied.

Obi-Wan looked a bit better, and Qui-Gon remembered the healer chasing him out of the sickroom earlier. "I find that hard to believe," Qui-Gon said with a small smile. "You look better."

"Sleep will do that," Obi-Wan said. "Plus Maul made me some soup. Apparently, our friends have stocked the freezer unit with food for us, which will come in handy when you get home."

Touched by that information, Qui-Gon swallowed. "Made your favorite casserole, I did," Yoda said. Qui-Gon rolled his head again to look at Yoda in surprise. "Eat it, you can, when home you go. Told us, Maul did, of your revelation, Obi-Wan."

"I know," Obi-Wan said faintly.

Qui-Gon moved his head back as quickly as he could. Obi-Wan wasn't looking at him and was, in fact, examining their entwined hands. "What revelation?"

"Tyrannus was behind it all, on Gi," Obi-Wan said, and Qui-Gon sucked in a breath, which hurt.

"Know that for certain we do not," Yoda said quietly. "Still missing, Ventress is."

"Ventress?" Qui-Gon was getting tired of turning his head from one to the other, but his neck and shoulder were still too tender for any other motion.

"Asajj Ventress," Yoda replied. "Dooku's padawan she was. Talk to her, we would like to."

"I'd like to do more than talk," Obi-Wan muttered.

Qui-Gon felt as though he were missing something -- which he probably was, given the wobbly state he was in. "Beneath you, that comment is," Yoda said calmly. He didn't sound put out at all. "When proven the accusation is, then dealt with she will be." After a moment, Yoda added, "Line, you will have to stand in."

Before Qui-Gon could quite parse that extraordinary statement, the door opened again to let Tallis AnBatRa enter. She smiled and nodded to everyone. "Good morning, Qui-Gon," she said, walking to his side around Master Yoda. "How are you doing today?"

Morning? "More confused than ever," Qui-Gon said. "It's morning already?" The Healers' wing was deep within the Temple, and only a few rooms had windows looking out onto an interior garden.

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Yes, it is," he said. "You slept well last night," he added, half to Qui-Gon and half to the healer.

"That's good," Tallis said. "If you slept well, that means he did too. We need to do some scans to make sure you're healing as well as I think you are," she said. "Aside from confused, how do you feel?"

Qui-Gon seriously considered that question for a moment. "I ache all over," he said after a moment, "but I think it's a little better than it was earlier."

"Good!" Tallis said. "Master Yoda, perhaps you can take Knight Kenobi to the commissary for breakfast while I get Qui-Gon to the scanning room?" she asked, ignoring the frown on Obi-Wan's face.

"Go on," Qui-Gon said, knowing what Obi-Wan was thinking. "I'll be fine. You need to eat, love."

"All right," Obi-Wan sighed. He kissed the hand he still held before reluctantly letting go.

"We're going to be a good hour, Obi-Wan," Tallis told him. "So take your time. He's in good hands."

"I know," Obi-Wan replied, though his face and tone belied his words.

Yoda hopped off the chair and moved to the door. "Carry me you shall, and to the commissary we will go," Yoda said. "Told I was that delivered today has been fresh fruit."

Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan knelt to take Yoda on his shoulder, then smiled when Obi-Wan gave him a last look as he left.

Tallis moved his drip to an extendible stand attached to the bed. "Here comes the hover," she warned as the bed rose smoothly. "We're just jam-packed today, but your injuries assured you a spot in the scanning room." She propped open the door and guided the bed out to the hallway. "We should still be quick about it. Are you warm enough?"

"Yes," Qui-Gon replied, keeping his eyes closed. Oddly, the motion of the hover was making him a bit queasy.

It was Tallis' testy "Excuse us!" that made him look, though, as they moved down the hall. A short, slender man with strange-colored hair was directing a floor-polishing droid right in their path, and only moved aside reluctantly. As the bed passed him, he looked at Qui-Gon with some kind of grudging hostility in his eyes. "Honestly," Tallis was muttering. "I know the Temple workers have been stretched thin, but this is ridiculous."

"Lissa? Who was that?" Qui-Gon asked, wishing he could sit up and look behind them.

"Someone from the janitorial staff," Tallis replied, dismissing it. "The current crisis has everyone on edge, but if he's going to work in our area, he's going to have to be more careful. Here we go."

As she situated the bed beneath the scanning equipment, Qui-Gon frowned. "What crisis?" he asked.

"Hold on," Tallis replied, moving the bed until it was correct to her satisfaction. "The Council has issued a general recall back here," she finally said. She walked over to the computer bank and began programming various scans.

"A recall? Of everyone?" Qui-Gon was aghast, and turned his head enough to look at her.

"Don't move," Tallis instructed him. "Yes. We've lost several thousand Jedi in the last couple of months. It's been dreadful -- though the Temple was designed to have room for everyone, that hasn't been actually tested for millennia."

The implication staggered Qui-Gon. A general recall? There must be..."How many?" he asked, as the light from the scanner swept over his body.

"I think there's close to twelve thousand of us here now," she replied. "Just a few more minutes."

"That's fine," Qui-Gon said faintly, lost in the outrageous idea.

Almost before he was aware of it, the scan was done and he was on his way back to his room. Once there, Tallis closed the door and logged into the dataset in the corner of the room. "Let me just check your scans, and then I'll give you a thorough exam."

Oh joy, Qui-Gon thought. Just what he wanted. "Little gods. Why would the Council pull everyone in?"

"Well, that's what a lot of us have been asking," Tallis replied. "Your scans look good. I'd like to lower the narcotic..."

Qui-Gon found himself drifting into a doze as Tallis continued to talk quietly and examine him. What could the Council have been thinking? If someone is killing Jedi, you don't bring all of them home, you scatter them and try to find who's been doing it. They were one huge target now for Tyrannus or anyone with a grudge against the Jedi.

He was only half-aware of his body and of Tallis' examination, floating on a sea of drugs. She was very gentle, and the fur on her arms and face was very soft and soothing. He was aware of some pain as she gently moved him and worked on him, but was uncaring of it, able to ignore it.

Her hands were reminding him of Obi-Wan, and the last time they had made love. Obi-Wan had been so gentle where he wanted it and rough where he needed it, just like always, just like they always had suited each other, so well, loving him so honestly. Entering him...

Suddenly, Qui-Gon felt ice cold, and the hands on him became coarse and callused, hurting, pulling, ramming... he began to moan and tried to get away, move away from the hands that were hitting him, holding him down while something hard and rough was shoved up him and hoarse voices were laughing as he screamed...

"Qui-Gon! Qui-Gon!"

Hands -- softer hands, gentler hands, and a voice, a loved voice calling his name. He wanted that voice, he wanted to feel those hands, but he couldn't pull himself away from the pain and the humiliation and the blood... so much blood...

Suddenly, against his will, he was asleep, where the terrible agony was gone.

Oddly, Yoda seemed to weigh almost nothing to Obi-Wan. He remembered carrying Yoda when he was a padawan, and he'd seemed heavier then.

It was still very early, and luckily the commissary wasn't filled to capacity. Yet. With all the Jedi in Temple from all over the galaxy, certain areas had been hard to get into. The gyms were always booked days in advance, the quartermaster's office always had a line five Jedi deep in front of it, and the commissary was nearly always overflowing, even though many of the knights and masters used their kitchens to cook for themselves -- when they could get food.

All that, in just over a week. After a month, he knew it would only get worse.

Obi-Wan made the mistake of carrying Yoda through the serving line. When he would have chosen a small bowl of fruit for himself, he suddenly found a plate of steaming doula added. His small tea became a large cha and toasted bread without his being aware of it, and he shook his head. "Need to eat, you do," Yoda said, complacently. "Too skinny you are. Well fed, warriors must be."

Not bothering to reply, he carried his tray and Master Yoda to a corner of the commissary, where he put both burdens down. Yoda floated his own plates -- containing his usual breakfast, a rather disgusting blue gooey substance -- to his side of the table. Obi-Wan began to eat quickly and methodically, aware that Yoda would probably not let him out of his sight until his breakfast was eaten. And it was good, actually. He just hadn't felt hungry until he started to eat.

After a few moments, he looked up to see Yoda staring at him speculatively. "What?" he asked.

"Await your mission report we do," Yoda began, and Obi-Wan immediately had to tamp down panic. "Put it off you have, but deal with it soon, you must."

"I know," Obi-Wan said, avoiding Yoda's gaze. There were far too many things he had done on Gi that he was not proud of, and, in fact, expected to be censured for. He was afraid his small grace period with the Council was now over. "I... I need to..."

"Heard from the delegates, we have," Yoda interrupted him gently. "Frantic, they were. Denied them, we did, when asked for another mediator we were."

"You did?" Obi-Wan blinked. "But... wait. There's a... No one's taking missions, right? You're not sending anyone out."

"True," Yoda conceded, scraping the bottom of his bowl with his spoon. "But send someone there again, we will not. Other avenues they will have to explore, if peace they truly want."

"They'll become extinct, eventually," Obi-Wan murmured, sitting back in his chair and regarding Yoda with surprise. "The contaminants in the atmosphere will see to that. And there are those there who are deserving of a chance," he added, thinking about the women who had helped him.

"Alerted various agencies, we have," Yoda said. He stole a piece of Obi-Wan's toasted bread. "Given them, we have, our Healers' reports. Help they will get." He looked sharply at Obi-Wan. "But put this off any longer you should not. Only get worse, it will."

Obi-Wan swallowed and nodded. He turned back to his breakfast, though he didn't much feel like eating anymore. They finished in silence.

"Walk carefully with Qui-Gon you should," Yoda said, as Obi-Wan began to gather their plates and cutlery back on the tray. "Stubborn he can be," Yoda added -- unnecessarily.

"I think I know that," Obi-Wan replied. "Dotrick has offered to work with him." He sighed. "It's going to be a difficult time, I think."

"Understatement, that is," Yoda said with a cackle. "Test your resolve this will," he added, more seriously. "Test your marriage I hope it will not."

Obi-Wan frowned. "I don't think there's anything that could test our marriage, Master Yoda," he said, feeling put out that the little frog had even mentioned it.

Yoda's ears were drooping. "Hope that is so, I do," he murmured. "Love you both, I do. Hurt for you, I also do." He reached across the table and patted Obi-Wan's hand. "Tell him I said so, you may not," he added.

Obi-Wan snorted and smiled, almost against his will. Yoda was just an old romantic softie where it counted. Touched by his concern, ashamed of his immediate reaction and grateful to know that Yoda was there if needed, Obi-Wan just said, "Thank you." Finishing his cha, he put the empty cup back on the tray. "We'd better get back before he gets up and comes looking for me."

"Tie him to the bed the healers may have to," Yoda said, nodding sagely. "A meeting I have, shortly. Take me to the Council Chamber you will, first. Come by again later today, I will."

"Of course," Obi-Wan said, smiling wryly. Maybe telling the Council what had happened on Gi would go well after all. It certainly seemed like he had Yoda on his side. Regardless, he still dreaded it. Perhaps he should discuss it with Dotrick first, get her input.

It was a quick side-trip to the Council Chamber, then Obi-Wan was hurrying down to the Healers' again, weaving his way through clumps of people talking, gossiping, catching up and speculating. He nodded hello when greeted but did not pause, merely waving as he passed the padawan healers manning the information desk as he entered the Healers' Hall.

Healer AnBatRa glanced up as he walked into Qui-Gon's room, nodding absently to him. She was in the middle of what looked to be a thorough examination of Qui-Gon, who appeared to be asleep.

Keeping the light blanket on Qui-Gon's lower body, the healer gently rolled him on one side, in order to check the wounds on his back and buttocks. Obi-Wan stayed back, against the closed door, wincing as he saw the horrible mass of scars on Qui-Gon's back. They extended all the way up to his hairline, and in fact, the healers originally thought they were going to have to shave Qui-Gon's head in order to assess the amount of damage. He was extremely fortunate that none of the bones in his back were broken during his torture.

Everything was healing, as far as Obi-Wan could tell. He knew that the healer would discuss Qui-Gon's status with him when she was done, and he could wait for it. A part of him would just as soon wait for it forever, and not talk about it at all.

Before she was completely done, however, Qui-Gon began to moan. Obi-Wan could feel him drunkenly pulling the Force in around him in reaction to whatever memory had him in thrall. As the healer eased him back flat on the bed, he began to thrash, clearly lost in remembrance. Obi-Wan stepped forward to help the healer hold Qui-Gon down, but that simply exacerbated the situation.

"Qui-Gon? Qui-Gon!" Obi-Wan called, trying to bring Qui-Gon out of his fugue, without success. The door abruptly swung open and Dotrick hurried in, once again looking pained.

She gently shouldered the other healer away from Qui-Gon, and touched her hand to his head. "Sleep," she murmured, and Qui-Gon went limp, immediately falling under the suggestion. "I felt him from down the hall," she explained to Obi-Wan. She rubbed her scaly hand over her face, and Obi-Wan realized she looked exhausted.

"I'm sorry," he said, his feelings of guilt increasing. He was -- well, they were, now -- such a burden to her.

"Don't you start," Dotrick said She walked around the bed and cupped his face in one hand. "He has enough to worry about without your wallowing in self-pity," she told him gently.

Profoundly affected by her touch -- as a telepath, he knew she tended to avoid direct contact -- he tried to smile at her in reassurance.

She patted his cheek. "Everything will be all right, eventually," she said. Turning to the other healer, she asked, "What's his status?"

Healer AnBatRa adjusted the dislocated blanket and checked Qui-Gon's drip as she gave Dotrick and Obi-Wan a quick summary. "Keep an eye on this one, don't let him do what he thinks he can do," she said dryly. She checked the drip once again, gave Obi-Wan a few more instructions, then hurried out, Obi-Wan's thanks trailing after her.

Obi-Wan took his accustomed place in the chair next to Qui-Gon's bed, and once more picked up his husband's hand. To his surprise, Dotrick didn't leave, but instead took the chair on the other side of Qui-Gon's bed.

"We need to talk," she said, and Obi-Wan sighed. "Qui-Gon is going to be very reticent about his need to work through this trauma," she told him soberly. "I know that you understand this, but I want to make a few things extremely clear to you. The first is that none of this is your fault."

"I'm aware of that," Obi-Wan began, but she held up her hand to quiet him.

"You know this on an intellectual level, but on an emotional level, you blame yourself," she said. "I don't have the time -- actually, you don't either -- to be tactful, and I apologize. But this is necessary. As Jedi, you are both extremely empathic, and he will pick up on your guilt feelings. Purge them now, so they don't become a burden to his -- or to your -- recovery."

Obi-Wan dropped his gaze down to the hand he held in his own. There was a large lump in his throat that was impeding his breath, and he tried to swallow it down before speaking. "It took me three days to find him," he murmured thickly. "If I could have found him sooner..."

"And if I could stop Coruscant from spinning, we'd all have sunstroke and I'd be much more comfortable," she said, her voice as close to testy as Obi-Wan had ever heard it. "I will tolerate your guilt feelings over your handling of the negotiations," she continued. "Master Yoda has asked me to help you with your report from the mission, and I know you have suppressed your anger and impatience, thus far. It is now time for you to confront them, so you can begin to move beyond them."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. This wasn't going to be easy. "I did some things I'm not proud of on that mission," he said. "The Council is not going to be happy with me."

"We'll let the Council do as the Council wants," she said. "I couldn't care less. It's you and your mate I have to worry about now."

"All right," Obi-Wan said, taking a deep breath and trying to center himself. "I guess I should start writing, then," he added. "Or would meditation be better?"

He looked up, across Qui-Gon's body, to Dotrick, who nodded encouragingly. "Meditation first," she said. "He'll be out for a few hours, I believe. I've got some work to do, but I have a couple of hours free, so I'll help you. The sooner we get through this, the better it will be for all of us."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan said, with sincere appreciation. He had a feeling that the next few hours were going to be very difficult -- not to mention painful -- as he tried to release his guilt to the Force.

Qui-Gon roused, once more, from unconsciousness, noting his body was still one gigantic throb of pain. Obi-Wan was still in the chair by his bed, apparently having grown roots there. He had a datapad in one hand and was frowning in concentration at whatever was displayed. Qui-Gon sighed, and Obi-Wan immediately looked up. Qui-Gon was glad to see the frown disappear into a smile. "There you are," Obi-Wan murmured, dropping the datapad to his lap.

"So how long did I sleep this time?" Qui-Gon said.

"A few hours," Obi-Wan replied. "Water?"

"Yes, please."

"Healer AnBatRa said you can sit up a bit, as long as it doesn't cause you more discomfort," Obi-Wan said. "Would you like me to raise the bed?"

"Oh, yes," Qui-Gon said. He hated being flat, hated not being able to roll over and to see things.

"Tell me if anything hurts," Obi-Wan said, then slowly adjusted the head of the bed up slightly. "More?"

"Um..." Qui-Gon frowned in concentration. It didn't hurt, precisely, but it was uncomfortable and probably better that he not go up further. "That's enough," he said.

"All right," Obi-Wan smiled. "Here's your water," he added, handing the bulb over.

It was the first time Qui-Gon had been able to see himself clearly, and as he sipped through the straw, he assessed the damage. "The cast is gone," he noticed immediately. "And that blasted catheter too."

"Yes, and you can eat soft foods if you feel up to it," Obi-Wan told him.

"Ah, marvelous," he said with a sigh. "Fried mush, undoubtedly. What's the time?"

"Just past midmeal," Obi-Wan replied. "And more good news. Healer AnBatRa said you could go into a healing trance once the drugs were gone from your system. How do you feel?"

"Much better," Qui-Gon hedged. Everything still hurt, but there was no reason to tell Obi-Wan that. "I'm sure trancing down will help."

Obi-Wan gave him a wry smile, and Qui-Gon realized he wasn't fooling his husband at all. "I'm sure it will. Dotrick will be around soon, and she's asked that you don't go into it until she's here, where she can monitor you."

Frowning hurt his face, but Qui-Gon still tried. "I don't understand why she has to be here," he said. "I've been meditating for longer than she's been alive."

With a sigh and a resigned eye-roll, Obi-Wan shook his head. "Your injuries were extensive," he said. "Don't bite the hand that helps you."

Instantly contrite, Qui-Gon said, "I'm sorry. I apologize for my testiness."

"I don't mind," Obi-Wan replied, kissing Qui-Gon's hand. "I know if you're grouchy, you must be better."

"I think I should be insulted," Qui-Gon said with a smile which turned into a wince. "My lips still hurt. Is there any chance of some balm for them?"

"I would think so. I'll ask the healer." With a last gentle squeeze to Qui-Gon's hand, Obi-Wan stood and walked to the door.

As Obi-Wan opened the door to leave, Qui-Gon was suddenly overtaken with a sharp stab of panic, unexpected and unannounced. He gasped as his stomach clenched. "Never mind," he said quickly. Obi-Wan stopped, turned and looked at him. "It's not a problem, I can wait."

"What's wrong?" Obi-Wan sat back down and picked up Qui-Gon's hand again. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, fine," Qui-Gon insisted, shoving the inappropriate panic down. He wasn't fine, but he didn't want to worry Obi-Wan unnecessarily.

"Stop that," Obi-Wan said softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "You're not fine. Was it my leaving that had you upset? I don't have to leave."

"Of course not," Qui-Gon said sharply. "It doesn't bother me -- why would it bother me?" Obi-Wan was giving him a look that said he didn't believe word one of it. As if fighting through a brick wall, he managed to say, "All right... yes. It... I'd rather you stay."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan murmured. He looked very earnest, as if admitting such abominable weakness were something profound and momentous.

Looking away, Qui-Gon picked up the bulb of water to sip. The fingers of his left hand were still stiff and awkward, and he dropped the bulb before it could get to his mouth. His immediate reaction was anger -- for some reason, he wanted to pick up the bulb and throw it against the wall for its temerity.

Before he could do so, Obi-Wan had picked it up and held it for him to take. For some reason, that made him angrier, and he felt a headache coming on along with all the other ridiculous aches and pains. "I can get it," he said, instantly regretting his sharp tone but not apologizing for it. Obi-Wan didn't say anything, merely smiled at him.

"The Healer will be in shortly, I imagine," Obi-Wan said. "Be ready for the usual barrage of questions."

"If I could trance down, I'd be an order of magnitude better," Qui-Gon groused. "I feel like a child, waiting on the aegis of others to do what I need to do."

"Not a child," Obi-Wan said mildly. "An adult who has been dreadfully hurt." He picked up the datapad again and began making notations.

"What are you doing?" Qui-Gon asked, trying to distract himself from all his aches and pains and bizarre anger.

Obi-Wan sighed. "Working on the mission report," he replied. "It's... rather difficult."

"We should be working on that together," Qui-Gon said. "You don't have to do it alone. I was with you, remember?"

"Yes, I do," Obi-Wan said, without looking up. "And I would appreciate it if you would look over the first half of it for me. You may have things you wish to add or append. I'm sure I forgot some of it."

"Of course," Qui-Gon said. "But why just the first half of it?"

"Because the second half of it is... it deals with my finding you." Obi-Wan wouldn't look up and his voice got softer as he spoke.

"I would think that was fairly straight-forward," Qui-Gon said, concerned at how pale Obi-Wan looked. "You... I was, well. I was an idiot and fell into a trap, and you rescued me. The end."

"You weren't an idiot," Obi-Wan objected. He glanced at Qui-Gon from the corner of his eye. "We had no way of knowing that they -- that the Gi had any intention of such a move. Considering that they were actually put up to it..."

"Do you know that for certain?" Qui-Gon asked. He remembered Obi-Wan and Yoda having a very odd conversation earlier... earlier today? "Who was that you were talking about with Yoda?"

With a sigh, Obi-Wan put the datapad down. "Knight Asajj Ventress. She had been Dooku's padawan. She's disappeared, and the Council has requested the Republic security forces to be on the alert for her. Plus, they've recalled all the Jedi back here, since several thousand have died in the last two or three months."

"I knew about the recall, but... several thousand?"

"I've only been getting the bits and pieces of it, but there was a Temple that was destroyed with most of its complement intact. Over the past five or six months, there have been individuals killed or nearly killed all over the galaxy -- numbering in the thousands, allegedly. It apparently didn't seem to be a problem until the Temple on Smlia Four was obliterated. Then someone started adding the numbers and realized it was a crisis."

"And this Ventress... she was here all along?"

"Apparently," Obi-Wan said. He rubbed his eyes. "When they started questioning those around her, those who had gone on missions with her or who were socializing with her, she disappeared. I think that's rather telling."

"I should say so," Qui-Gon replied, outraged. "How could this happen? And why, for the love of the Force, did that idiot Council gather all of us here? We're an enormous target -- one lucky move and the Jedi are extinct."

"I know, I know," Obi-Wan said with a tired smile. "I've heard it debated everywhere in the Temple, at some volume. The Council is not talking, however, other than official memos to the Senate and the Senate Security Council on the matter."

"Oh, how marvelous," Qui-Gon said, layering the sarcasm. "I'm sure the Senate is very happy with us at the moment. 'Dear Senate, just want to let you know that we're not going to take on any more missions for a while, and we're going to bring everyone, regardless of the sensitivity of their current mission, back to Coruscant. Why? Sorry, can't tell you. Oh, and by the way, should you happen to see a homicidal bitch who was trained as a Jedi running around, please feel free to let us know.' Little gods."

Obi-Wan snorted, obviously trying to hold his chuckles in. "That's a fair assessment," he managed to say through his smile.

"If he's this cantankerous, he must be feeling better," said a new voice. Obi-Wan turned and saw Adi Gallia standing in the doorway. She smiled and moved into the room, taking the empty chair across from Qui-Gon. "I'd heard you were finally awake. How are you feeling, my friend?"

"I've seen better days, obviously," Qui-Gon said wryly. "Forgive me for not getting up."

She laughed, a lovely sound. "I'm not offended in the least. You look far better than you did the last time I saw you."

"I can imagine," Qui-Gon said. "Obi-Wan warned me about visitors. I had no idea I was this popular."

Both Obi-Wan and Adi snorted at that, and when Qui-Gon smiled, he couldn't prevent the wince. Patting his hand, Obi-Wan rose. "I'll go get you some balm for your lips, Qui-Gon," he said, smiling at Adi. "Play nicely."

Adi laughed again, then reached out and touched his arm. "You look so much better," she said. "It's good to see you on the mend."

"I've been told I'll be allowed to go into a healing trance today," Qui-Gon said, rolling his eyes. "I'm so glad others know so much about me."

"Now, Obi-Wan told you to play nicely," Adi reminded him with a smile. "I know how difficult convalescence can be. I'm just so glad to have you still with us."

Well, there wasn't much he could say to that, Qui-Gon thought, so he settled for a sigh. "I know I'm not the best patient," he admitted. "Obi-Wan will probably want a divorce by the time they pronounce me fit. It's just that there are so many things to do..."

"I understand," Adi said with a nod.

"Beginning with," he said, after taking another sip of water, "what, exactly, is the Council thinking? Sweet Force, Adi, you might as well put a sign on the top of the Council Chamber -- 'aim here'."

"We have our reasons," Adi said firmly. "All you have to do is get well again. We have need of you -- you and Obi-Wan, both."

"Obviously," Qui-Gon said, glaring half-heartedly at her. "They're not going to be able to keep me here much longer, my dear, and then you and the Council will have to explain yourselves to me."

"I wasn't aware that we were reporting to you," Adi said, her dark eyes dancing.

"It's like you said," Obi-Wan said, re-entering the room, "you know he's getting better when he gets testy and demanding."

Qui-Gon tried to glare at his spouse, but he was just too tired. Obi-Wan carried a small pot of cream, which he opened as he sat down. "Sasha is in labor," he said, gently applying the cream to Qui-Gon's lips. The blessed relief of the cream derailed his reaction time slightly.

"Sasha?" he said, then repeated himself. "Sasha! Little gods, I'd almost forgotten."

"That's where Healer AnBatRa has been," Obi-Wan explained, putting the balm on the bedside table. "She's been intimately involved all along, and has informed the world that she's the only one capable to act as midwife for this particular birth."

"Pushy healer," Qui-Gon said. It was a relief to smile again without his lips cracking.

"That's wonderful news," Adi said. "I'll have to pass it along." She rose. "I'm sorry to come and go so quickly, but I really only had a few minutes to visit. I'm trying to evade another marathon Council session."

"You're welcome to hide in here any time," Qui-Gon said. "Just remember to bring information."

"Not on your life, Qui-Gon." She leaned over the bed and kissed his cheek gently. "Get better. That's all you have to be concerned about." She smiled at Obi-Wan as she left.

Before she could get through the door, Dotrick was there. Half-bowing to each other, they exchanged a few murmured words that Qui-Gon could not pick up. He rolled his head over and squeezed Obi-Wan's hand. "Thank you," he said. "That's so much better."

"Good." Obi-Wan ran his free hand through his hair. He looked as though he could use a haircut, though the dark circles under his eyes were nearly gone.

Dotrick let Adi out the door and then walked to the chair the Councilwoman had just vacated. "I see you're looking much better," she said.

"I'd be even better if I could trance down," Qui-Gon said hopefully.

Dotrick rolled her eyes and sighed. "You're worse than the toddlers in the creche. Very well. Since I am here to monitor you, you may go into a healing trance. For two hours only."

"Two hours?" Qui-Gon looked between his spouse and the mind-healer. "But that's not nearly--"

"Two hours," Dotrick said firmly. "Believe me, you'll feel it at the end. If you don't come out of it exhausted, I'll turn in my license. Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan looked over at her. That pensive look was back, and Qui-Gon didn't like it. "Yes?"

"Have you finished your report? I'd like to discuss it while Qui-Gon meditates."

"Mostly," he said. "I've asked Qui-Gon to help me with the beginning."

"That's fine. I'm only interested in the ending. Ready, Qui-Gon?"

Talk about pushy healers, Qui-Gon thought with a sigh. "All right."

He could actually feel her calm presence in his head as he ordered his thoughts and cleared his mind. Breathing deeply still caused an ache in his ribs, but he could make do. Slowly, Qui-Gon descended into the peace of the Force and let his body begin to heal.

Qui-Gon was indeed exhausted when Dotrick called him out of his trance, though he tried hard to hide it. Obi-Wan got some soup and bread in him before Qui-Gon fell into a deep sleep. He did, however, feel better for the healing trance, and Dotrick said that he could do it again the next day. "But only when I'm here to keep tabs on him," she added.

Qui-Gon had a terrible nightmare in the middle of the night, but Obi-Wan was able to soothe him enough to get him back to sleep. He spent much of the rest of the night awake, holding Qui-Gon's hand, staring at the ceiling and wondering when his life had gotten so far off track.

Dotrick had read his mission report carefully, then had asked him several penetrating questions that made him extremely uncomfortable. He knew he had acted in anger on Gi, and further knew that he had killed, no, murdered -- without compunction, without hesitation, and with a fury that was beyond anything he had ever felt before, except perhaps in the power core room on Naboo. He remembered cradling Qui-Gon's bloody, battered body to himself as he walked through the crowd around Maul's ship, remembered barely keeping in check the urge to rend, the urge to light Qui-Gon's 'saber and cut through the idiots that had tried to take his husband from him...

A tickle on the side of his face made him realize that silent tears were streaming out of his eyes. He took a gasping breath and struggled to control the agony he felt, tried to come to terms -- again -- with what he had done on Gi, how he had lost his serenity. No one was condemning him, he remembered Dotrick saying. No one was blaming him for his actions -- no one but himself, at any rate. He didn't know what would happen before the Council, and was dreading discussing it with Qui-Gon.

Still caught in his self-recriminations, he managed to fall asleep.

When he woke, it was to a murmured conversation. Qui-Gon had managed to wake without disturbing Obi-Wan, and was talking with Healer AnBatRa as she took a sample of his blood. Obi-Wan realized he was still holding Qui-Gon's hand, and in fact, had curled his body around it.

It was the healer who noticed he was awake. "I think we woke him anyway," she said. She looked extremely tired, and her tail was dragging on the floor behind her.

"You were sleeping so peacefully we hated to disturb you," Qui-Gon said, lifting their entwined hands to his lips. "Good morning."

"Already?" Obi-Wan smiled wanly at Qui-Gon's snort. "Sorry, Healer. I'll move the cot back."

"Don't worry about it," she said, finishing and putting her sample away. "I'm too exhausted to give you a thorough exam this morning, Qui-Gon. I'm going to try to catch a few hours of sleep and then I'll be back."

"Take your time, Lissa," Qui-Gon replied. "I'd rather have you awake when you tor- abuse me."

She ignored the jab -- Obi-Wan wasn't even certain it registered. Nodding to both of them, the healer left. Obi-Wan didn't move for a while, trying to drag himself more awake. His eyes felt dry and rough, his nose was stopped up, and his throat felt like something had crawled in it and died. He had a passing, rather absurd wish that he'd had a wild night to go with his morning discomfort.

"I've read your mission report," Qui-Gon said, and Obi-Wan closed his eyes in resignation. He was hoping to put that off for another day or so. "I've got just a few things to add, right at the beginning of it."

"You've been awake that long?" Obi-Wan said.

"Yes, I feel enormously better for a good night's sleep, not to mention the trance." Their voices were soft, but Obi-Wan didn't feel up to looking directly into Qui-Gon's eyes. "Obi... You don't have to..."

"Yes, I do," Obi-Wan interrupted him gently. "It's what happened, Qui-Gon. I... I need..." Obi-Wan stopped and swallowed hard. "I'm not proud of some of the things I did on Gi. But you're alive. You're here. As far as I'm concerned, I can take any punishment for my actions, as long as you're here, living."

"That's ridiculous," Qui-Gon said. He tried to reach across his body to touch Obi-Wan with his other hand, but hissed in pain. "Damn these ribs. Obi-Wan, there's nothing you did on that mission that requires any censure. You acted as you saw fit; you acted as a Jedi."

Obi-Wan had known Qui-Gon wouldn't understand the situation, and it actually made him angry to have his assumption proven right. Qui-Gon had always been a bit of a rebel when it came to his actions; he had always been the one to act first and seek forgiveness later. This one time, Obi-Wan had done the same, and the ends had turned out all right.

It was the means that would require some hard scrutiny.

"It's nothing we need to discuss right now," Obi-Wan said, trying to change the subject before Qui-Gon could pick up on his frustration and nascent fury. He made a mental note to 'forget' to tell Qui-Gon when his session with the Council was set, so Qui-Gon couldn't do anything stupid. At this time, however, his bladder was encouraging him to get up, so he managed to push himself more or less upright, Qui-Gon's hand still firmly in his own. "I have to use the 'fresher, and get us some breakfast. Are you hungry?"

Qui-Gon gave him a hard look, but finally released his hand and nodded carefully. "I could eat," he conceded. "Lissa said she'd send in something for us shortly. Sasha had the baby last night."

In the process of forcing himself to stand, Obi-Wan did a double take. "She did? What..."

"A boy, a bit under three kilos. And yes, he does have a tail, though it's short. Lissa said half the Temple could hear him protesting his birth -- both ways."

Obi-Wan entered the 'fresher and left the door open so Qui-Gon could still see him. He relieved himself with a sigh, then washed his hands. "What did they name him?"

"Malvis," Qui-Gon replied. "Let's see... he'd be a member of Loral's clan, and Sasha's family name is Fellis... Malvis FeLoRa, I believe. Lissa called it a fairly uncomplicated birth."

"Good," Obi-Wan said. He splashed water on his face and ran his fingers through his hair, which made him feel slightly more awake. "I really need a shower and a change of clothes," he said, half to himself.

"Yes, you do," Qui-Gon agreed with a smile. "Right after we eat breakfast, which I think I smell coming."

Obi-Wan was in the process of pushing the cot back out of the way when there was a tremendous crash just outside the door. Giving Qui-Gon a look, he rose and opened the door to find a dreadful mess. A droid floor polisher had crashed into a hovercart filled with trays of food. Their breakfasts, along with others' in residence in the area, were strewn across the wide hallway.

The woman who had been delivering the trays stood aghast in the hallway, looking at the mess. A man -- one Obi-Wan recalled seeing the day before, arguing with Ser Showatt -- was blinking at her in confusion. He was carrying a control pad, so obviously had been in control of the droid.

"Brosse, you idiot!" the woman screamed. "Look what you've done!"

Obi-Wan closed the door carefully and leaned on it, staring wide-eyed at Qui-Gon. "I think our breakfast is going to be delayed," he said, and they both started to laugh.

"Ow," Qui-Gon said, holding his side. "That hurts. But it feels good too."

Eschewing the chair, Obi-Wan settled carefully next to Qui-Gon on the bed. He leaned over and gave his husband a light kiss. "It hurts, I know, but it sounds wonderful," he said, resting his head gently on Qui-Gon's shoulder. "I've missed sleeping with you."

"I've missed that too, and other things," Qui-Gon rumbled. He ran his fingers through Obi-Wan's hair. "I can't wait to get out of here, go back home with you."

"It's going to be a while longer, love," Obi-Wan said. "There's still a lot of healing for you to do."

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes. "I'm sure it won't be that long, Obi-Wan. I'm feeling so much better now, after a trance. And you know I'd feel more comfortable in our quarters, in our own bed, with you."

"Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan said, meaning to once again try to set him straight. He knew exactly how much more healing -- inside and out -- Qui-Gon needed, and further knew that Qui-Gon would deny it with his last breath. Before he could get going, however, he was interrupted by their door opening, revealing Dotrick.

"What in Gulla's name happened out there?" she asked, and they both laughed.

Every day, Qui-Gon felt a little better. Dotrick allowed him longer and longer trances, and he was coming out of them with less and less exhaustion. Tallis AnBatRa said his scans and bloodwork were coming back with excellent reports, and he had even managed to stand -- with Obi-Wan and Lissa's help -- and walk to the 'fresher. Well, shuffle to the 'fresher. And he did have to rest after that.

But it was the principle of the thing that counted. He was nearly healed.

He could sit up all day now -- in bed, anyway -- and was able to eat pretty much anything he wanted. The knee brace had been removed, and he'd even pleased Lissa by having a bowel movement, something he was both proud of and embarrassed about. He just couldn't understand why the healers insisted he remain under their care.

One morning, he woke to find Lissa by his bed instead of Obi-Wan. Lissa smiled at his obvious confusion. "Obi-Wan wanted me to wait for you to wake," she said. "He had an appointment with the Council, I believe, and had to leave early."

"The Council?" Qui-Gon said, trying to banish the cobwebs from his thoughts. "What about?"

"I'm not sure," she said. "Can I help you up or would you prefer the urinal?"

"Lissa, this is important," he said, a growing sense of urgency dragging him into full alertness. "Was Obi-Wan going to give his report?"

"Qui-Gon, I don't know," Lissa said with exasperation. "Probably; isn't that what he's been working on for the last few days?"

Qui-Gon suddenly found himself frantic at the idea of Obi-Wan going before the Council. He'd read Obi-Wan's mission report, and knew that Obi-Wan had every intention of admitting things before the Council that absolutely did not have to be said. Obi-Wan had done nothing wrong, dammit, but he seemed to think he required some kind of penance for what he did on Gi, and it was ridiculous.

"I need to get to the Council," Qui-Gon said, cutting Lissa off as she started to speak. "I have to, Lissa."

"Qui-Gon, you can't," she said. "You can barely stand. You're simply not ready for anything like that."

"Then get me a hoverchair," he growled. "Because if you don't, I'll crawl. I need to be there with Obi-Wan, Lissa. Please."

Lissa tried to argue with him, tried to be logical, but in the end, when Qui-Gon began to struggle off the bed to carry out his threat and crawl, she gave in. She helped him to the 'fresher, left the room and came back with a hoverchair. "I should just lock you in here," she said, obviously angry with him.

"I'm sorry, Lissa, but I have to be there." Qui-Gon let himself be arranged carefully on the chair and nodded brusquely when she asked if he was comfortable. He wasn't, but that was immaterial -- Obi-Wan was about to throw himself on his lightsaber, and Qui-Gon had to prevent it.

Qui-Gon was amazed at the number of people in the halls, Jedi from all over the galaxy, making the normally spacious corridors seem far too crowded and claustrophobic. Lissa stayed with him all the way, grousing and complaining about Qui-Gon's blackmail attempts, but Qui-Gon ignored her. He concentrated on what he needed to say before the Council and on keeping his pain level down -- it was the first time he had actually sat in a chair for any length of time, and his lower body was letting him know it wasn't happy.

The Council was in session when they arrived. The young knight manning the antechamber looked up in surprise when he saw Qui-Gon and Healer AnBatRa. "Council's already in session," he said, obviously confused. "Were you supposed to present the mission report with your partner, Master Jinn?"

"Yes," Qui-Gon said quickly, before Lissa could contradict him.

"But... he's been in there most of an hour already," the knight said. "I don't know..."

"I've just been delayed," Qui-Gon said. He'd found the control panel on the hoverchair and nudged it forward, towards the huge double doors. "Better late than never. Open the doors, please."

Once again, brash bullying worked, and Qui-Gon flew into the chamber. Obi-Wan was standing in the center of the room, and as the doors opened, his shoulders slumped and he shook his head, obviously relieved to know Qui-Gon was there. He did not turn.

"Master Jinn?" Mace Windu all but gaped at him. "Your presence was not required here," he continued.

"I was on this mission," Qui-Gon said, his voice rough. "I am entitled to as much blame or praise as my partner."

"True, this is," Yoda said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Qui-Gon. "But have anything to add, you do not. Missing, you were, for some of the mission."

"That does not mean that I was not a part of it," Qui-Gon said.

"Qui-Gon, don't," Obi-Wan said softly. He still didn't turn. "It's not necessary."

"I'll decide that," Qui-Gon snapped in reply. He tried to shift and managed to suppress the wince of pain that movement cost him. "You've done nothing wrong."

"On the contrary," Ki-Adi Mundi said calmly. "Knight Kenobi has detailed his endeavors to rescue you once you were taken. He has admitted to actions and transgressions of a fairly serious nature."

"Transgressions, my ass," Qui-Gon said. "He did what he felt was necessary. I would think that his level of experience indicates he knew what he was doing. None of you were there, you can't know. Nor can you understand what he's been through merely to get here."

"Your objections merely cloud the issue, Master Jinn," Mace Windu said. He was obviously trying to be conciliatory, but Qui-Gon could hear the resolve under his mild words. "You are bringing nothing of any practical value to this report."

"Blast it all!" Qui-Gon said, but before he could get any further words out, he was interrupted by Adi Gallia.

"Master Jinn," she said, holding up one elegant hand. "The Council has heard the report of your partner, Knight Kenobi, on this matter, and we have already drawn conclusions and set our course of action. There is nothing further to be said on this, save for the Council's decision on a response."

"There is no decision to be made," Qui-Gon said, becoming increasingly frustrated. "Knight Kenobi has done nothing to warrant any other response than fine, good job, go home!"

"Master Jinn." Mace was giving him one of those sad, resigned looks, and it just made Qui-Gon's blood boil. "I am loath to discuss Knight Kenobi's record in front of you, but your insistence gives me little choice. It is the decision of this Council that an official reprimand will be inserted into Knight Kenobi's record, for actions taken while on the planet Gi on an official mission for the Republic Senate and the Jedi Order. Furthermore, he is officially placed under probation, and will remain as such for one standard year. He will also be required to attend counseling by a Jedi mind-healer, who will be asked to submit a report to the Council specifying his fitness for duty."

This had gone far beyond the Council's usual stupidity and was bordering on the criminal. And Obi-Wan -- he was just standing there, his head bowed over his folded hands, taking it! Outraged, Qui-Gon had never so much wanted to stand and fight in his life, he wanted to scream at the Council, he wanted to shake Obi-Wan.

Before he could even formulate the words, Mace began speaking again. "Knight Kenobi. Do you accept the terms of this decision made by the Council, or do you wish to appeal? Do you have any words to add to the official record on this matter?"

Obi-Wan's response came immediately on the heels of Mace's words, and utterly dismayed Qui-Gon. "Yes, I accept the will of the Council, and I have nothing further to add."

Speechless, Qui-Gon looked from the Council to Obi-Wan, who was studiously ignoring him. In fact, Obi-Wan stood as he had all along, not looking at Qui-Gon or anyone else.

"Add I will to the record," Yoda said. "While censured Knight Kenobi must be, commended he must also be. A difficult task he was given, and though perhaps wrong were his choices, good was the outcome. Thank him, I do, for saving one very grumpy Jedi master."

There were both chuckles and glares aimed at Qui-Gon at those words. "Excused you are," Yoda continued gently. He was addressing Obi-Wan, but looked pointedly at Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan bowed and turned. Qui-Gon finally got a look at his face, which was tightly shuttered and pale. He did not meet Qui-Gon's gaze, but instead moved to stand behind the hoverchair. "Wait," Qui-Gon said, as Obi-Wan began turning him. "I..."

"I think you've done more than enough," Obi-Wan muttered. "We need to get you back to the Healers before you rupture something and set yourself back a ten."

"I am perfectly fine," Qui-Gon insisted, trying to turn and see Obi-Wan, but incapable of it because of the pain in his ribcage. "Dammit, Obi-Wan, stop. We need to discuss this. They were altogether out of line for--"

"No, you stop," Obi-Wan said, pushing the chair out into the main corridor, beginning a rapid walk. "They were not out of line. It was my part of the report they -- we were discussing."

"Irrelevant," Qui-Gon insisted. "We were both on that mission. You are a Jedi, and you acted as a Jedi in a difficult, almost impossible situation. You did nothing wrong!"

"That is not for you to say," Obi-Wan said firmly. He was walking faster and faster, avoiding clumps of Jedi as though pod-racing in the corridor. "You weren't there."

"It doesn't matter if I wasn't there, I know you."

"You. Weren't. There," Obi-Wan repeated, his voice becoming harsher as he maneuvered the hoverchair. "You don't know what happened."

"I've read your report."

"Then you should be agreeing with me -- them!" Narrowly avoiding a work crew, Obi-Wan made the sharp turn into the corridor that would take them to the Healers'. "You are prejudiced. You don't have the data and even if you did, you're not qualified to judge."

"Neither are they!" Qui-Gon held his side, trying to keep the burning pain from his ribs from escaping. "I'm far more qualified than they are in this matter."

"Force take it!" Obi-Wan suddenly shoved the hoverchair out of the middle of the corridor, nearly slamming it into the wall. "You weren't there!" Obi-Wan came around to the front of the chair, leaned his fists on the hand rests, and bent to shove his ashen face in Qui-Gon's before continuing, loudly. "You were gone! For all I knew, you were already dead! And if you had died, if they had killed you, I would have killed every last one of them and danced on their rotting corpses! So I think that I'm correct in saying that I fucked up badly, and you are totally out of the loop in this because you weren't fucking there!"

Qui-Gon gaped up at Obi-Wan's twisted face, recoiling from the violence and horror of Obi-Wan's words. Before he could say anything in rebuttal, Obi-Wan stood, dodged around him and all but ran down the corridor, back the way they had come, weaving between Jedi who were as stunned as Qui-Gon. Frozen in shock for a few moments, Qui-Gon finally managed to draw a gasping breath, swallowed hard and buried his face in his hands, trying to keep from weeping.

"That didn't go well, did it?" Dotrick. Little gods, but he didn't want to talk to her now. "I know you don't," she said in response to his thought.

"Stay out of my mind," he snarled, clenching his fists in rage.

"Sorry; not in the job description," she replied brusquely. She stepped behind the chair and began moving it down the corridor again, away from Obi-Wan.

"Stop..." he said, unable to shout as he wished. "Obi-Wan..."

"Does not need to see you right now," she said implacably. "Whereas I do. You can hurl invectives at me all day, Master Jinn, both mentally and verbally, and I won't blink. You can't do that to your mate at the moment and expect him to remain your mate."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and groaned. "Sweet Force... what have I done..."

"Basically, you've behaved like a child, and a spoiled one at that," Dotrick replied. "Since I know you are not like that -- well, at least generally -- I must assume that it's the post-traumatic stress speaking. Once Obi-Wan calms down, I'm sure he'll come to believe that as well."

"I have to find him, I have to... have to apologize, get him to see..."

"You have to do no such thing." They'd reached Qui-Gon's room, and Dotrick maneuvered the hoverchair next to the bed, then bent and lifted him from it, her scaly hands astonishingly tender. She wasn't even using the Force to augment her muscle power, and Qui-Gon remembered the awesome strength her species was known for. She put him carefully on the bed and lifted the blanket to cover his legs. "There," she said, taking a seat on the bed next to him. "I'll have one of the padawans come fetch the chair in a bit. First, we need to talk."

Miserable, Qui-Gon closed his eyes and took as deep a breath as he could. The gripping pain in his diaphragm was solely from his broken ribs, he hoped.

"If you're well enough to storm into a Council session where you have no business being, you're well enough to begin the next phase of your therapy," Dotrick said. "Make no mistake, Qui-Gon -- dealing with your feelings is as important to your healing as a restorative trance is."

"There's nothing to heal," he said, his voice a flat monotone. "Physically, I'll be fine, eventually. If they'd let me out of here, I'd be fine all the more quickly."

"That's excrement and you know it," Dotrick replied, her voice conversational. "Your abuse was horrific. The level of damage to your body was extensive. You remained in captivity for three days, and when you were found, you were nearly frozen and had nearly bled to death. From the excellent and complete records Knight Maul maintained, it was your severe hypothermia that may actually have saved your life."

Absurdly, Qui-Gon felt like he wanted to cover his ears with his hands and sing nonsense to block her words. He didn't need to hear all this, he had lived through that hell, hadn't he?

"In addition," Dotrick continued blandly, "you had been repeatedly raped with what appeared to be a variety of objects. You had tears in your rectum that extended up almost into your lower intestine. They had also whipped you with something that..."

"Stop... stop..." Whose voice was that, moaning so piteously? It couldn't be him, couldn't possibly...

"Qui-Gon, look at me."

Somehow, Qui-Gon had managed to put his hands up over his eyes and face, and now, he felt her hands trying to pry them off. She was so much stronger than him, especially since he was so weak for some reason, and she managed to get him to lower his hands, which she clasped in her own. Her scales were dry and warm. But she couldn't make him open his eyes, he could keep those closed. "Look at me, Qui-Gon," she said again, and reluctantly, he opened his eyes. Her image swam before him, blurry and indistinct. "Tell me, what do you see?"

"You," he rasped. His voice was thick and it hurt to speak.

"Who am I?"

"You... you're Dotrick."

"That's right. Good. And who are you?"

"I'm... I'm...." For the life of him, he couldn't remember his own name, and that bothered him. Who was he? "Where's Obi-Wan?" he asked instead.

"Obi-Wan will be back shortly," Dotrick reassured him. She kept both his hands cradled in her own. "Who are you, Qui-Gon?"

"I'm..." He dropped his gaze to the blanket covering his legs. "I'm..." Finally, he managed to look up at her, and he realized she was waiting for his answer. "I'm a man."

Her face cleared and her crest fanned out in approval. "Good," she said, quietly. "Very good."

"I've... I've been hurt. They hurt me."

"Yes," she said, sadness in her eyes. But no pity, Qui-Gon thought. She wouldn't pity him, and that was good. "You were taken and you were hurt, very badly."

"But Obi-Wan found me." He was becoming sleepy, so very sleepy. "He said... he said... he said he'd always find me."

"He will," Dotrick assured him. "He always will. Rest now, Qui-Gon."

"All right." Qui-Gon closed his eyes again, and descended into dreamless sleep.

Obi-Wan deliberately picked the sunniest place in the topiary garden to sit, since he knew that Dotrick would eventually find him and he wanted her to be comfortable. While he waited, he struggled to center himself and release his inappropriate anger at his spouse to the Force. He hated being angry at Qui-Gon, but his peace was eluding him. All he wanted was to smack the stubborn fool, and that would never do.

Finally, Dotrick did indeed find him. She hummed in approval at his location, and immediately lifted her face to the sun, extending her crest to catch the warmth.

"Is Qui-Gon all right?" Obi-Wan asked after a few moments.

"He's fine," she replied. "He's asleep, and will probably sleep until latemeal."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and once again tried to center himself. "He doesn't like to be alone," he said.

She nodded. "I'm aware of that," she said. "I've set one of the padawans to wait in his room. They could use the lesson in patience."

He snorted. "I think I could as well."

Turning, she opened her eyes and regarded him curiously. "Why do you say that?"

"You saw what happened, or heard it, I'm sure." he muttered, kicking at the grass under his foot. "I completely lost my composure and actually yelled at him."

"But why?"

"Because... well, because of what he did," Obi-Wan said. "He burst in a Council session, one he had no reason to attend, tried to pick a fight, tried to tell me what to say, what to do..." Once again, his voice was rising in anger, and with a struggle, he bottled it in. "It wasn't his place to do that. I deserved the censure the Council applied."

"Putting aside that issue -- but rest assured, we will get back to it -- you haven't answered my question. Perhaps I misstated it. Why do you think you need a lesson in patience?"

Rolling his eyes, Obi-Wan sighed. "I lost my patience with him, I grew angry with him over what he did. I should have been more patient, and I wasn't."

"That doesn't make a lot of sense to me, Obi-Wan," she said. "You said that he did some very irregular and highly aggravating things. I'm not sure anyone could have kept their patience in the face of that."

Confused, he blinked at her. "Huh?"

"Why do you think you should have shown him more patience than you did?" she asked, quite seriously, for all the question was absurd.

"He's been hurt," Obi-Wan said. "He's... he's still hurting... He's... I mean... It's hardly his fault that he's behaving like a fucking... overprotective... master!"

"Possibly not," she conceded. "But what does that have to do with your losing patience with him or your being angry at him?"

Floundering for words, Obi-Wan ran his hands through his hair, stopping himself just before he yanked. "I was angry with him," he said. "I lost my patience, and I was angry with him. Became furious with him, in fact."

"Well, it sounds as if you had every right to be," she replied mildly, and he gaped at her.

Obi-Wan blinked. "Who are you, and what have you done with Healer Dotrick?"

She chuckled. "Obi-Wan, I've never counseled anyone to lie about their feelings. Feelings are neither right nor wrong -- Master Yoda's favorite saying notwithstanding."

"I thought his favorite saying was about doing, not trying," Obi-Wan said, still bemused.

She waved her hand. "As it is. The point here is that you had every right to be angry. I could feel you trying to center and purge all the way to the Healers'. You're not succeeding, are you."

It wasn't a question, and he sighed. "No."

"That's your mind's way of telling you you're not dealing with it properly. You think it's wrong to experience such anger. I'm here to tell you, if my mate had behaved the way Qui-Gon had, I might have ended up tossing him or her off the nearest balcony."

Caught off-guard, Obi-Wan laughed out loud and almost immediately felt better for it.

"Let yourself feel the anger, Obi-Wan," she said, her eyes crinkled in a smile. "Feel it, acknowledge it, let it go. That's the proper way to deal with such a thing." She sighed and shook her head. "I don't know what they're teaching the youngsters these days..."

The laughter over her words just seemed to bubble up out of Obi-Wan's middle, and he let it. But as abruptly as it appeared, it turned, and he caught himself trying to sob. "Why..." he said, then stopped, killing the words before they could leave his mouth and bring him more pain.

"You know why," Dotrick said, and now her eyes were kind. "I know that it doesn't lessen the hurt, but you know why." She shook her head. "Didn't you tell me earlier that you felt numb, that you had shut yourself down? Well, now you're not. You've reset yourself, your emotions. You're back to feeling things again, and if it takes getting angry to dispel that lack of incentive, then so be it." She sighed heavily. "I think Lissa is right, I'm going to need several barrels."

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Obi-Wan gave her a watery smile. "What?" he asked.

"She told me I was going to need at least a barrel of industrial-strength alcohol after having taken the two of you on," she said. "I didn't believe her then. I do now." She subsided, muttering about conflicts of interest and no wish to inflict on another healer.

Obi-Wan couldn't tell if he had been insulted or complimented, and settled for ignoring the comment and holding his snort of amusement inside. Besides, he had other things to think about.

That evening, when Qui-Gon woke, neither of them discussed what had happened earlier. Obi-Wan knew it would have to be confronted eventually, but he'd rather put it off as long as he could and concentrate on Qui-Gon's healing first. Avoidance was a lovely and easy thing to do, he thought wryly.

Qui-Gon ate latemeal with him and they talked of inconsequential things. After their meal, Sasha and Loral visited with the baby before taking him home that evening. Baby Malvis was a tiny thing, with a squashed-looking red face and big blue eyes that examined everything with a semblance of great seriousness. He had Loral's golden fur sparsely covering his body, as well as Sasha's thick, light brown hair on his head.

Maul stopped by that evening as well, bringing his new roommate, Jayden Youmous, with him. They visited for a while then left, as they had an appointment. Qui-Gon remarked on Knight Youmous' appearance, saying that he could almost have been Obi-Wan's twin brother. They debated it good-naturedly, to Obi-Wan's relief. It felt as if they were getting back on an even keel, back to their usual dynamic.

When Dotrick appeared during the middle of their not-quite argument, to guide Qui-Gon into a rejuvenating trance, they asked her to be the referee. Luckily for her, she hadn't seen Knight Youmous and was able to abstain.

That evening, Qui-Gon rather diffidently asked Obi-Wan to sleep with him. "We can extend the width of the bed, you know," he said quietly, picking at the blanket that covered his legs. "And... I'd rather you... I miss you."

Smiling, Obi-Wan agreed. They widened the bed enough to add an extra body, and he carefully arranged himself next to Qui-Gon. "You'll have to tell me if I hurt you," Obi-Wan said, giving Qui-Gon a serious look.

"I will," Qui-Gon promised.

For Obi-Wan, it was the best night's sleep he'd had in months. They woke together, and if Qui-Gon was stiff and sore from not moving all night, he didn't say so. His color was good, and when Obi-Wan helped him up, he seemed to be moving much better.

"I feel like an old man," he groused on his shuffling way to the 'fresher.

"That's because you are an old man," Obi-Wan teased.

"You wait until I feel better," Qui-Gon shot back, leaning heavily on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "I'll show you an old man."

"I live in hope," Obi-Wan replied, with a wink and a gentle grope. He didn't say anything about the 'feel better' comment, but inside, he felt a knot loosen. Perhaps Qui-Gon was finally recognizing that he was going to take a while to heal. His constant insistence he was fine was beginning to wear on Obi-Wan -- having to be the strong one was difficult for him. Their dynamic was generally the other way around, and he'd found that Qui-Gon made an absolutely terrible patient.

A chair had been installed in the shower stall, and Qui-Gon decided he felt up to an actual shower, rather than a bed bath, and talked Obi-Wan into joining him. "I know you've got clean clothes -- wouldn't you rather be clean in them?" Qui-Gon wheedled. "And I need someone to make sure I don't hurt myself, you know."

"Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan said with a sigh and a chuckle. "All right." He stripped himself, then helped remove the shorts and light, wrap-around shirt that Qui-Gon had been living in during his convalescence. "Actually, I'm sure it will be good for you, and I can wash your hair, as well."

"That would be wonderful," Qui-Gon said with a smile. "The sonics just don't feel the same."

"I know." The shower stall was large enough for three people, and the water jets came from all angles. He set them to a warm, gentle spray then helped Qui-Gon into the stall and onto the chair.

Obi-Wan may have reset himself -- as Dotrick so fancifully put it -- but he was still incapable of closely examining the scars that still lingered on Qui-Gon. He blanked his mind while he gently and thoroughly washed Qui-Gon from top to toe, trying only to see his husband, not a man who had been brutalized. Qui-Gon sat still and let himself be bathed, and every time Obi-Wan looked up, he saw Qui-Gon's eyes on him, watching with a pensive and penetrating gaze.

Finished with Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan quickly washed his own hair and body, doing a far more cursory job on himself. He was just squeezing the last of the soap out of his hair when he felt a gentle, caressing touch on his penis. His head jerked down.

Qui-Gon was staring at Obi-Wan's half-erect penis, two fingers of one hand touching it gently. "I've always become aroused, seeing your beautiful body," Qui-Gon murmured. His own organ was flaccid. "But now..."

"It takes a while," Obi-Wan said, immediately understanding Qui-Gon's words. He crouched down in front of Qui-Gon and touched his face. "It can take a long while. You have to just let it run its course."

"I never understood before..." Qui-Gon muttered, seemingly to himself. With a hard swallow and a head-shake, he looked up at Obi-Wan. The confusion and pain in his eyes was enough to bring Obi-Wan to tears.

"Let's... We need to get out before we get water-logged," Obi-Wan said, unsure if more speaking was even necessary. He turned off the water and gently squeezed excess water from Qui-Gon's hair. "Stay there, I'll bring a towel in."

They moved slowly and carefully, taking their time. Qui-Gon was silent, either thinking or brooding, but allowed himself to be coddled. They were both dressed and Obi-Wan was carefully combing Qui-Gon's still-damp hair when Healer AnBatRa came in for her morning rounds.

She smiled at them as she walked to the bed. "You look good this morning, Qui-Gon," she said. "How are you feeling?"

Qui-Gon's smile was tentative. "I feel... I'm a little tender in places, but I do feel a bit better," he said. Obi-Wan frowned, but didn't stop combing.

"I think you're doing much better. I don't need blood today, but I would like to check your knee and shoulder."

After the healer's exam, their breakfast came, and with breakfast, more visitors. Various members of the Council showed up, singly and in small groups, warily examining Qui-Gon and not commenting on the ruckus of the day before. Dotrick was the last to show up.

"Do you feel up to a three-hour trance, Qui-Gon?" she asked, ignoring Qui-Gon's subdued, silent apology for the day before. "I'd like to talk with both of you this afternoon. Tallis has given you clearance to begin more stringent physical therapy and we could walk to the healers' garden."

"All right," Qui-Gon said.

Obi-Wan was not happy with the sudden mood-swing Qui-Gon was displaying. He seemed so much more subdued, incredibly quiet and not at all querulous -- nothing like he had been, before yesterday. Afraid that Qui-Gon's trauma had begun to manifest itself, Obi-Wan made a resolution to ask Dotrick about it once Qui-Gon was under.

They had just started the process when a tremendous concussion rocked the temple. Alarm bells went off and there were immediate sounds of running feet and shouts.

"What the hell?" Qui-Gon asked. "Are we under attack?"

All three of them looked at each other, puzzled by the Force's non-alarm. "I don't sense anything," Dotrick said, and Obi-Wan nodded in agreement.

There was a sudden silence, and Obi-Wan realized with a start that the constant muted roar of the Temple's environmental control equipment had stilled. The soft brush of air had ceased, and he went to open the door of the room to head off it becoming stuffy. There was no one in the hallway save for a couple of padawans with their heads together.

"It doesn't look like we need to evacuate," Obi-Wan said after propping the door open.

"I say we just go ahead then," Qui-Gon said. "And if you find out what happens before I come out, please share."

Instead of talking to Dotrick while Qui-Gon tranced down, Obi-Wan stayed in the doorway of the room, looking for someone to tell him what was happening. Finally some healers returned, several of them clustered around a gurney on which a non-human Jedi lay. Obi-Wan couldn't get a clear look, but it appeared they were providing the wounded Jedi with a different type of atmosphere to breathe.

When Healer AnBatRa finally showed, she was covered with dust. "I need a bath," were her first words to Obi-Wan, who smiled and nodded in agreement.

"What happened?" he asked her. "Do we need to evacuate?"

"No, no," she said, brushing white powder off her arm fur and clothing. "There was an explosion in the sub-one level, in the chlorine atmosphere. No one knows quite why, yet, though it seemed to have been centered on a 'fresher in one of the apartments. Luckily there were only seven Jedi in that atmosphere, and five were one family. How's Qui-Gon?"

"He's fine," Obi-Wan said with a wry grin. "He's in trance state. He wanted to know what had happened too."

"Well, the environmental controls will be off for a few hours, at least," the healer told him. "We're opening all the doors and windows, but you might want to take him out to the garden later."

Since that's what they had planned all along, Obi-Wan merely nodded and let her go clean up.

The day continued as normal, save for some strange smells and a lack of Temple infrastructure personnel. After midmeal, Obi-Wan carefully walked Qui-Gon down the hall to the Healers' garden, where the door was propped open. It was much better outside, even in the sheltered space, and both of them sighed in pleasure. The sun was, of course, shining in Coruscant's climate controlled sky, and Obi-Wan spread a blanket he'd brought on the grass and carefully helped Qui-Gon down. Propped against a tree, they relaxed.

Several people stopped by to talk briefly, including Anakin Skywalker, who was feeling at odds with the new baby in his quarters. As it turned out, he knew what had caused the explosion, and they pumped him for information.

"It was some gonof from the janitor crew," Anakin told them. "He was supposed to be cleaning the 'freshers in the chlorine atmosphere, and word is he tried to use ammonia to do it. Ka-boom!"

It wasn't funny because someone had died, but it was difficult to maintain that sobriety at the notion. "Obviously not a chemistry scholar," Qui-Gon said dryly, and both Obi-Wan and Anakin laughed.

"We never thought about a chemical explosion, Master Obi-Wan," Anakin said as his chuckles wound down. "Though it wasn't nearly as big an explosion as a 'saber could cause. It only cracked the floors above and below, didn't bring them down."

"That explains why the air recirculators are off," Obi-Wan said with a nod. "I imagine it's going to be a mess down there."

"Maybe I'll go and volunteer to help," Anakin said, digging at the turf with the heel of his boot. "Master Loral and Master Sasha don't have a lot of time to help me do anything else."

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan traded glances. "See me tomorrow, Anakin," Obi-Wan offered. "I'll be glad to meet with you and spar. Maybe we can work on that form that was giving you trouble."

"Would you?" Anakin's head jerked up and his face cleared. Then he frowned again, after a glance at Qui-Gon. "But Master Qui-Gon... he needs you here, doesn't he?"

"I'll be fine for a few hours," Qui-Gon assured the boy. "Obi-Wan has been complaining about his lack of exercise."

"No I haven't," Obi-Wan said with an incredulous look.

"I can tell when you're itchy to move, husband mine," Qui-Gon replied with a small smile. "I'll use the time to trance down. Dotrick will be there."

"That would be wizard, Master Obi-Wan," Anakin said. "Thanks! I'll comm you tonight, when I know what my schedule will be."

All three of them saw Dotrick coming along the path, and Anakin bounced to his feet. "I gotta go anyway. Thanks again, Master Obi-Wan." He bowed -- quickly, but with a poise that indicated his increasing maturity -- to Healer Dotrick, then went back inside.

Dotrick apparently approved of their location, for she nodded and sat on a sunny corner of the blanket, settling down with a happy sigh. "I take it Padawan Skywalker has told you of the latest gossip," she said, and they nodded. "I think I can classify it as natural selection at work, even though that sounds harsh."

They both chuckled. Qui-Gon, who was leaning up against Obi-Wan, seemed to tense up in expectation, and Obi-Wan wrapped his free arm around Qui-Gon's shoulder. His opposite hand was being held by Qui-Gon.

"There are some things that we must begin discussing today," she said, looking between them. "Some of it I will insist on hearing from one or the other of you alone, and some of it must be shared between the three of us. I want to make one thing absolutely clear first -- I am the only one who will decide what gets shared and what is private. If you can't deal with that, let me know now."

Qui-Gon's head was down, and he was apparently focused on their clasped hands, but he nodded shortly. Obi-Wan did the same.

"Physically, Qui-Gon is improving every day," she began. "I believe that by the end of this month, he'll be nearly back to normal, and ready to get back into shape. He's a Jedi, and it shouldn't take him long. Qui-Gon, your physical well-being is in Lissa's hands," Dotrick continued. "I am not here to oversee that aspect of your healing. I'm here to help you heal mentally."

Once again, Qui-Gon just nodded. He did not look up.

"Since I am Obi-Wan's mind healer, I will also discuss with both of you what happened on Gi. Obi-Wan, I don't doubt for a moment that you are fit for duty, but I do know that what you did on Gi affected you profoundly." She looked at him with compassion, and Obi-Wan was surprised to find he could look right back at her, without discomfort or shame. "I'm glad it did. If it didn't, our road would be far harder."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and acknowledged that statement as true. He was indeed deeply grateful that he hadn't had to test his sanity any further than he'd done.

"I think we should begin with what happened yesterday," Dotrick said, and both Qui-Gon's and Obi-Wan's hands tightened on each other. "Qui-Gon, can you tell me what your thought processes were as you insisted that Lissa help you to the Council Chamber?"

There was long silence while Qui-Gon just stared at the blanket. Dotrick waited patiently, and Obi-Wan with less patience. Finally, Qui-Gon spoke. "I'm not sure I can articulate it clearly," he murmured.

"Give it a try," Dotrick urged him, her voice equally soft.

"I... I felt panic. I felt an overwhelming urge to be with Obi-Wan. I... I was afraid for him. I was angry with him, too, I think."

"Why?" Dotrick asked, no censure in her voice. "Because he hadn't discussed it with you first? Because you felt the mission belonged to both of you?"

"Partially," Qui-Gon replied. "I felt... I guess I felt as though he were falling on his 'saber, and that it wasn't necessary."

"'Falling on his 'saber,'" Dotrick mused. "Sacrificing himself?"

"Yes," Qui-Gon agreed. "It wasn't necessary, I thought."

"Why not?"

"Because he hadn't done anything wrong."

Dotrick shot Obi-Wan a quelling look, but Obi-Wan had no intentions of interrupting. "I'd like you to think about that statement for a moment," Dotrick said to Qui-Gon. "Because the way you're wording it, it sounds as though you feel the Council would have censured Obi-Wan immediately, based on his report. Is that the way you were thinking?"

"Yes," Qui-Gon replied, his voice dull. "The way he'd written his report, it sounded as though he were one step away from turning."

"And you don't believe that was possible?"

"Absolutely not." Qui-Gon took a deep breath, and while he still didn't look up, he squeezed the hand in his gently. "He could no more turn to the Dark than the galaxy could stop spinning. He is the Light. He's everything that's good and true about the Jedi."

"That's a rather sweeping statement," Dotrick said mildly.

"It's the truth. He's worth more than double of any Jedi in the Temple. Any of us."

After his initial shock at Qui-Gon's words, Obi-Wan found himself shaking -- with anger, with other emotions he couldn't name -- and fought to keep himself under control. He wanted to scream at Qui-Gon, to yell that he was not able to sustain such an image, that he was just a man, a flawed, hurting man, and not the half-god Qui-Gon seemed to believe him to be. How could he possibly live up to such an ideal? How could anyone?

Dotrick was silent for a long moment, and Obi-Wan thought she might have been giving him time to cool down -- not that it helped. Finally, though, she began speaking again. "Putting aside that issue for a moment, let's talk about what happened when you actually entered the Council Chamber. Did you feel as though you were helping Obi-Wan?"

Qui-Gon's hand was clammy in Obi-Wan's. He was still focused on their clasped hands, and would not look up. "Yes, I think so," he replied.

"Why did you feel that way?"

"I'm..." Qui-Gon was silent for a long moment. Obi-Wan concentrated on his breathing, trying to maintain his calm. "I'm his husband," Qui-Gon finally said. His voice sounded both harsh and tentative. "It's... it's my job to help him. I want to help him."

"But why would you think he needed help?" Dotrick asked.

"I..." Qui-Gon was beginning to breathe a little harder, and his hand was trembling. "I don't know."

"I think you do," Dotrick said gently. "But let's move on. Obi-Wan was angry with you for your interruption in the Council Chamber. Why do you think he was?"

"I... I don't know."

"Then let's ask him," Dotrick said. She looked at Obi-Wan compassionately, but did not allow him to flee the question. "Why were you angry at Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan?"

"Because it wasn't his fight," Obi-Wan said, his voice low. "He wasn't there. He didn't know what kind of stress I was under, what I did in order to rescue him. I'm not proud of what I did on Gi, and I deserved everything the Council meted out."

"So, you believe that you deserved punishment for what you did on Gi," Dotrick asked, and Obi-Wan nodded sharply. "That's something I said we'd return to, and we will, in greater depth, and soon. You have told me, however, that you believe the outcome of the mission was good, about as could be expected, given the circumstances." Obi-Wan nodded again, more slowly, frowning in thought. "It is possible, then, that you did the right thing on Gi. Your actions might have been 'bad', but they were justified as the only thing that might have worked, given the circumstances."

Obi-Wan took a breath to speak, then let it out without speaking. He chased that thought around for a while, trying to look at it from all sides, then finally said, "You may be right. The circumstances were less than ideal. The situation was critical. That does not excuse what I did, but..."

"But it makes it understandable," Dotrick said, with an encouraging tone.

"It might be so," Obi-Wan conceded. He was still very shaken by Qui-Gon's extreme idea of what he was, but this helped him avoid the idea altogether. "Understandable from more than one angle, in fact."

"Qui-Gon," Dotrick said, "do you agree with that assessment?"

When he answered, his voice was dull, and it came perilously close to frightening Obi-Wan. "I don't know," he replied. His cold, damp hand slipped from Obi-Wan's, and lay on the blanket, limp.

Dotrick's voice was all gentle persuasion. "You're evading the questions, Qui-Gon. I'd like to know why you feel you can't answer these questions."

After a long, long silence, Qui-Gon finally spoke, his voice devoid of inflection. "I've been avoiding it. All of it. My injuries, Obi-Wan's actions, the nightmares, the pain... all of it." His shoulders slumped further, and he almost rolled into himself, as if cradling his pain. "The only thing I remember well is thinking how glad I was that I was the one taken, not Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan couldn't prevent his gasp as those words struck home. "No," he whispered.

"Every time they... beat me, and it was often, because they did it in shifts, so they wouldn't tire," Qui-Gon continued, in the same dull monotone, "I thought, thank you Force, for making it me, not Obi-Wan. Because I could take whatever they threw at me."

"You didn't think that Obi-Wan could have taken that kind of abuse?" Dotrick asked, her voice as soft as the breeze that blew through Qui-Gon's graying hair.

"I don't know," Qui-Gon said. "I don't know everything that's been done to him. Regardless, I didn't want to test it, I didn't want him to have to find out."

"You wanted to spare him," Dotrick said.

Obi-Wan began to shake. No. He wouldn't allow this. He couldn't allow this. As it was, he could barely tolerate Qui-Gon's thinking he was some sort of superbeing, some sort of Force chosen, god-like entity... but this...

"I never knew," Qui-Gon murmured. "I never knew. I couldn't help him where it counted, when it counted, because I never knew what it was like. I knew, as long as my ignorance remained, I would never be able to truly help him." As if lifting a world's weight, Qui-Gon raised his head and finally looked at Obi-Wan. His eyes were filled with pain and sadness and a kind of grim satisfaction that made Obi-Wan's stomach roil. "I know now. I'm actually thankful the Force sent me this lesson, because now, I've been through it, just like him."

"No," Obi-Wan gasped, struggling to keep his lunch down. "NO!"

Obi-Wan leapt to his feet and ran with Force-assisted speed back into the Temple, away from the horror of Qui-Gon's words.

Yoda found him in the topiary garden, hunched over his own vomit, rocking back and forth and dry heaving.

"Come," Yoda said, touching Obi-Wan's head with one claw, helping to abate his nausea with the caress. "Stay with me you shall," Yoda continued. "Healing of more than one kind is needed here."

Dotrick cradled Qui-Gon's big body to her breast, sending soothing Force energy to him. He wasn't crying, didn't cry, but the shaking that wracked his body was as bad as tears.

"He said he'd always find me," Qui-Gon mumbled, over and over again. "Obi-Wan..."

end of this phase
more is forthcomingis owHo