Master Apprentice
Archive
Time's Slow Journey
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The pain was all encompassing, and nearly unbearable. I struggled to release it into the Force, even as I strove to draw more of it into myself, away from the man who was, I was afraid, literally dying in my arms.
"Are you hurt, Padawan?" he gasped. His voice, hoarse and thready, echoed strangely in the small pocket of semi-darkness where we were trapped.
"No, Master," I replied. It wasn't a lie, not exactly. Sure, I had scrapes and bruises, a knot on the back of my head where Force-knew-what had hit me, and one knee was throbbing in time with my heartbeat. But, compared to his injuries, I could scarcely complain. I carefully kept that knowledge from him, shielding it as best I could from our enhanced link, made stronger now out of necessity as I struggled to keep him alive, struggled to keep the pain from overwhelming him and to do what I could to begin healing his dreadful wound.
"Quiet now," I urged. "Just rest." I felt warm blood still seeping slowly through my fingers, and I clamped down tighter with both hands, feeling the agony it caused as if it were my own. The hand that I had slid beneath him, holding firmly to the entrance wound in his back, was full of the pins and needles of impaired circulation from fingertip to elbow. The hand pressed to the larger, more ragged exit wound below his ribs was cramping, threatening to give out. I set my lips. Not in this lifetime.
"I got a message through to Coruscant," I told him, trying to give him hope, something to hold on to. "A rescue ship will be here in ten hours." Even as I said it, I cringed. Ten hours. I let my eyes close for a second. Ten hours, long before the end of which I would probably be alone, clutching a cold, lifeless body.
No! I told myself adamantly. I will not let him die! Somehow, we had survived the bombing raid that had wiped out the village. We had even managed to pull a few people from the smoking ruins of their homes and send them safely off into the shelter of the forest. There had been just one more house, just one more family who was afraid to venture outside, more afraid of being caught in the open than of being crushed under the collapsing debris of their home.
A family that was dead now, despite our best efforts to get to them.
We had barely made it through the front door when the final concussion bomb fell. The wall behind us exploded. The ceiling crashed down with a cloud of choking white dust and a sound like an avalanche. The family's calls for help were suddenly silenced, the loss of the four lives keenly felt through the Force. But, another sensation hit me even harder - my Master was hurt.
I crawled to him, grateful for the heavy wooden table that we had dived under at the last minute. It had saved us from being crushed. But, my questing hands found that the exploding wall had sent a thick shard of wood straight through my Master. The wound was horrendous, unthinkable, and altogether too real. He was hovering on the knife-edge of consciousness, deeply in shock, and I concentrated hard to trace the thing's path before pulling it out. It had shattered several ribs but had missed his vital organs. If I could stop the bleeding, he might survive until help arrived.
Might. Or might not.
Actually removing the thing, as thick as two fingers pressed together, was a nightmare I have no wish to relive. I longed to send him the rest of the way into unconsciousness, but was afraid to, afraid that if he surrendered to that welcome, pain-free darkness he might never awaken. I tried to use the Force to ease aside organs and arteries, not wishing to do further damage, only knowing that I could not begin to heal the wound as long as that spike was impaling him.
"Hold on, Master," I told him, straddling his hips and pressing him down with my weight. Careful, I told myself, taking a two-handed hold on the splintery wood. I watched his shallow inhalations, waited until he breathed out, emptying his lungs, before jerking the thing free. His cry --- oh, Force, his cry will forever echo through my dreams. A fresh gush of blood followed it out. I dropped to the floor beside him, clasping my right hand firmly over the wound in his back, then rolling him over so that I could see the larger wound in the front. My stomach nearly turned over at the sight of it. So much blood, so much tearing.
And - oh, Force! -- so much pain. I shoved forward into his mind, rather roughly, I fear, and clamped down tight on the pain centers of his brain, desperate to ease that grotesque agony. At the same time, I used what little healing ability the Force had blessed me with and set it to work on the torn, bleeding tissues. The ribs I could do nothing about, splintered as they were. The closeness of our spirits meant that I shared his pain with him, feeling it as he did. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered except keeping him alive.
"Shhh, Master," I soothed, although my hands and probably my voice were trembling with the harsh reality of what I had done, what he had endured. "Shhh. Help will be here soon. You only have to hold on until then."
He didn't answer. But, his head lolled in my direction, and the blue eyes that I so cherished fastened on mine. Injured or not, in pain or not, he was still a Jedi Master. His look, though silent, told me all I needed to know: he would not give up.
A short while later, as we lay there together in near darkness, I heard the sound of heavy footsteps - lots of them - outside, in what used to be a thriving village. The ground forces had arrived. "Shhh," I whispered close to his ear. But I needn't have worried. He had heard them, too, and remained silent. If they were as low-tech as most of their kind, they would not have scanning gear, and would hopefully not find us under the debris of this house.
I had no illusions of what our fate would be if they did. The Ter'ner'ins were a viscous race, well known for their wartime atrocities. Ever mindful, my Master and I huddled there in a pool of drying blood, locked in tense silence.
Two hours passed, and my senses told me that the last of the troops had moved on.
It was growing darker in our little shelter, and the chill of the Rifverian night was settling in around me. I felt Qui-Gon shiver and edged closer to him, careful not to jar his wounds as I swung my uninjured leg across both of his, offering what warmth I could.
"Padawan?" The voice was low and throaty, barely audible, and I hitched forward to bring my ear closer to his mouth. "How's your knee"?
Sith. So much for shielding my own injuries from him. I should have known better. "It's not bad, Master," I said, "as long as I don't try to move it."
"Broken?" he asked.
"No," I told him. "I think I twisted it when I fell. It'll be fine."
"Padawan?"
"Yes, Master?"
I felt his chest expand as he drew in a breath, as deep as his agony would allow. "I want you to leave me."
My heart clinched at the sound of defeat in that weak voice. I shook my head. "No, Master. I won't."
"You must." He broke off as a fresh wave of pain tore through him. I felt it, too, being so closely linked to him that it seemed my will was all that was holding his spirit to his body. "If they suspect that we still live, they will bomb again . . ."
"I'm sure they think we're dead, Master," I told him. "They didn't try to dig us out, or even pay any particular attention to our immediate area. I think they've given up on finding us."
"They haven't," he said, and I wondered what the Force was telling him. "Please. Go."
"No! I won't leave you!" I laid my head on his shoulder, encouraged by the sound of his beating heart. I softened my voice, letting it express my devotion to him, my love, even though I had never spoken of the latter before. "I will never leave you." His pain had tightened into a band around his chest, making it hard for him to breathe. Worse, I could sense his spirit waning. Despite his earlier resolve, he was becoming convinced that he would not survive this.
Frantically, my mind cast about for something to talk about, some happy memory for him to hold on to. Finally, I found it. "Do you remember that little restaurant in Bossivossi?" I asked him, trying to project an image of it directly into his mind. "Remember that little girl?"
Silence answered me, and I felt myself unconsciously tensing. "The one with the enormous blue eyes?" he said finally.
"Yes. " I let myself relax. "She had never seen a Jedi before, remember? And she had been taught that we were strange and dangerous wizards, never to be trusted. But, remember what she told you?"
The sound of a soft, barely audible chuckle reached me in the darkness, coming out as little more than a huff of breath. "She said I wasn't scary at all," he replied, and I could feel again his wonderment at the child's insight and surprising boldness just as I had that day.
"Yes," I said, trying to keep him talking. "And, she said that you had nice hands. That someone with hands like that could never hurt another --- " I broke off, feeling his thoughts go dark again. Sith, what had I said?
// But, she was wrong, wasn't she, Obi-Wan? // Qui-Gon said, this time into my mind. I could sense deep regret and self-loathing, two emotions I had rarely experienced from this man. // I did hurt someone, the last person in the universe that I would want to hurt. I'm so sorry, Obi-Wan //
// This is not your fault, Master! //
// Then, whose? I brought you here. I placed you in this danger. //
"Did you know that the Ter'ner'ins would violate the treaty before it was even ratified?" I sensed rather than saw him frown.
// No, // he said into my mind. // But I knew their reputation. //
"As did I. Did you have some forewarning that this tragedy would occur? That they would bomb the village and we would be trapped here?" I felt his frustration growing.
// No, of course not, but --- //
"Then you have no need to apologize, do you, my Master?"
He sighed audibly, then winced as the pain doubled and redoubled. It flashed like quicksilver through our link, making us both moan in agony. I lunged forward mentally to catch it, drawing as much of it away from him as I could, forcing it behind a numbing blanket of comfort. It didn't help that much, but it did help.
I snuggled in closer, lying on my side against him. "Only eight more hours, Master. Then help will arrive and everything will be fine." I tried to push that certainty into his mind, willing him to believe it. But, only silence answered me.
An hour later, the Ter'ner'ins were back.
I felt their approach before I heard it. They were moving stealthily, perhaps on the assumption that we were still alive and trying to dig ourselves out of the rubble. They hoped to take us unawares. But there was another difference; this time, they had brought a scent hound with them.
Hurriedly, I erected a Force shield around us, using what little focus I could spare, and checked on Qui-Gon to be certain he was aware of the danger. He was, and was making a concerted effort to quiet even the sound of his breathing. I could hear the beast snuffling and sniffing above us and I held my own breath, straining my ears and my senses, wondering if I would have to defend us, and if so, how.
My lightsaber still hung on my belt. It was pressed deeply into my thigh, uncomfortably so, but in order to reach it I would have to release my hold on my Master's still seeping wounds. My right hand, which had been trapped beneath his weight for three hours now, had gone completely numb. It would be useless in a fight. My left, stiff and sticky with caked blood, would not be much better.
For long moments, the noise above us continued. Finally, however, I could hear the soft padding of its feet and the slithering and sliding of shifting debris as it moved on. I let out the breath I had been holding for too long, seeing tiny twinkling lights flash behind my eyes, and turned my attention back to Qui-Gon.
He was still breathing shallowly, his face turned away from me.
// Master? // I sent through our link, concerned with his unnatural stillness.
// I'm still here, Padawan, // he sent back weakly.
// And here you will stay, // I told him, my mental voice stern. // No other choice is acceptable. //
Despite the seriousness of our situation, I could feel a wave of humor wash through our bond. // Oh? // he sent. // And the universe will obey you in this, will it? //
// Absolutely, // I said forcefully. // For if you give up and return to the Force, I shall follow you, my Master. Do you hear me? I will follow you, I swear it! //
I felt his mood shift abruptly. // You. Will. Not. //
// I will! I will not let us be separated! You told me just a few days ago that I had a lot still to learn. And I will accept no other teacher. You must stay or I will go with you. //
I felt his mental sigh of resignation as my words hit home. // So demanding. //
// Look who trained me, // I sent back.
Qui-Gon turned his head, and I felt his breath ruffle my hair. // In that case, I suppose I shall have to live. //
// Damned right! //
He would have chuckled had he been able. Instead, he pressed a soft kiss into my hair.
// Rest now, // I told him.
A brief wash of agreement was his only reply.
Six more hours to go, and my Master grew steadily worse. I did all I could, strained my limited healing skills to the limit and cursed the Force for not giving me more. At least the bleeding had stopped finally, but his pain, if anything, was worse. His weakness definitely was.
// Master, // I said through our link, feeling the need to keep his mind occupied with living and not with death. // When you've recovered, we must ask for some free time. //
//And what would you do with this free time, assuming the Council would grant it? //
I thought about that for a moment. // I suggest we go back to Altair. Do you remember that little cabin by the lake? We could sit on the porch each night and watch the herds of antlered deer come to drink. How does that sound? //
// Like heaven, Obi-Wan. //
// Or, we could go to Devinnar 3. I've always wanted to see their meteor showers. I hear they're quite spectacular. //
// They are, // my Master replied. // And they have the most incredible sunsets I've ever seen. //
// You've been there? //
He nodded, ever so slightly. // Years ago, long before I took you as my Padawan. Even before Xanatos. //
I felt his spirit darken slightly at the thought of his fallen student, and I pushed on past the moment. // Tell me about them. The sunsets, I mean. //
He sighed, his breath ruffling my hair. // The Devinnian sky turns the deepest of purples when the sun gets near the horizon. There are always clouds, but somehow the rain that falls almost every day always seems to stop before evening. The sun streaks crimson and orange across the sky, and suspended droplets of moisture in the air catch the colors and reflect them, making the clouds seem to shift and shimmer like a billion bits of colored glass. //
// Sounds wonderful, // I replied.
// It is. //
// It's settled, then. Devinnar 3. I should think we'd need at least a month there, wouldn't you? //
He choked back a laugh, the effort sending a lightening bolt of pain through both of us. // Are you so certain that the Council will give us leave to go? // he asked when the agony subsided enough for him to think.
// I intend to make a very good case in our behalf, Master. //
// It shall take that, Obi-Wan, for them to agree. I fear our services will continue to be much in demand. //
I set my mouth into a tight line. // I suppose that's the price we pay for being too good at our jobs, // I told him, trying to keep things light. Even so, I sensed his mood darkening again.
// After this mission, the Council might not agree with that assessment. //
Four more hours, and I could not help but think that it might as well be four days.
Qui-Gon was growing weaker by the minute, his will to live flagging.
"Master?" I whispered into the darkness, knowing that he could still hear me. I steeled myself. What I was about to tell him would change everything - our relationship, my training, maybe even my future as a Jedi Knight - but how could I not tell him? What if he died without ever knowing?
A slight flicker of attention over our link was my only answer, but it was enough.
"There is something I must tell you," I said, refusing to bite my lip as I often did when anxious about something, knowing Qui-Gon would chide me for it if he found out. "Something I've known for a long time but could not speak of."
// Then, speak, // he said into my mind.
I drew a deep breath, hoping I would not be rejected outright. "I love you."
A wave of affection reached me. // And, I love you, my Padawan. //
I shook my head, then laid it on his shoulder. // No, // I sent, not wanting to be misunderstood. // I'm in love with you. I have been for years. I -- // I drew a shaky breath. // I hadn't wanted to speak of it until after my Knighting, but I can't wait any longer without you knowing. //
There was no answer, and I felt my heart nearly stop in my chest. // You needn't say anything now, // I told him quickly. Silence was infinitely better than a rejection. // Later, when you're better . . . //
// Oh, my Obi-Wan, // Qui-Gon interrupted, his mind-touch as gentle as a lover's caress. // Don't you know that I feel the same? //
"You - you do?" I asked aloud, hearing the uncertainty and hope in my voice.
His hand moved, ever so slightly, to cover mine. // Oh, yes. //
The Force must have lit up, then, with my joy, and I could feel an echo of it through our bond. I was struck with an almost overwhelming urge to kiss him, but found myself suddenly shy. Amazingly, Qui-Gon must have sensed my feelings, for a tiny chuckle escaped him.
// Come here, Padawan, // he said, sending a picture of what he wished me to do. A moment later, our lips met for the first time.
Oh, it was sweet, so wonderfully, terribly sweet. Despite his agony, his mouth was soft and responsive under mine, his tongue tracing tantalizing patterns on my lips until they parted and allowed him entrance. His hand stroked the back of my head, though where he found the strength I couldn't have said. The touch was fleeting, but wonderful. Unable to return the favor, since both of my hands were still pressed against his wound, I sent a ghost-touch of Force to caress the line of his throat, the curve of his jaw, letting it tangle in the coarse hair of his beard.
"I love you so much," I said when forced to come up for air. My lips felt cold without his touching them, my head and the roots of my hair still tingled from his caress.
// And I you, my Obi-Wan. //
I blushed at the endearment. "Then, bond with me," I whispered, almost afraid to speak my desire aloud, still afraid of rejection.
// I cannot. //
//But, why? // I questioned through our link, feeling my heart chipping away inch by ragged inch. // If you truly love me . . . //
He shushed me silently. // I cannot, however much I wish to. //
Suddenly, I understood. I levered myself up onto my elbow, feeling it tremble with weakness, and glared down through the gloom at where his face must be. It was so simple now that I thought about it. Qui-Gon would not bond with me because he thought he was dying.
"A bond could save you," I told him.
// Or take you with me when I die. //
Rage and fear warred within me. Rage won out. "You. Will. Not. Die!" I told him, stressing each word. "I won't allow it! Do you hear me, Qui-Gon Jinn! You're going to live! For me, for our future!"
I felt a wave of sad uncertainty wash through our link. // Always the stubborn one, my Padawan, // he sent.
I struggled to keep my mental tone light. // You must have me mistaken for someone else. Yourself, for instance. //
The barest flicker of humor washed away the sorrow. He sighed, though it brought searing pain. // Perhaps, // his mind voice said.
I could feel his rapidly fading strength. // Will we be in trouble with the Council for this? // I asked, still wanting to keep him alert and thinking.
I could sense his confusion. // For failing the mission? //
I shook my head, feeling his faint smile as my hair tickled his neck. // No. For loving one another. //
He sighed mentally. // No, // he sent back. // While love affairs between Master and Padawan are scarcely encouraged, neither are they forbidden. We are hardly the first. //
// Really? // I was surprised, and tried to think back, wondering if I had ever seen a Master and Padawan in love.
// It is not something that you would notice, // he said. // It is something that should be kept private, personal, not to be broadcast or announced. //
// Why? If it's not forbidden . . . //
// A public display could interfere with a team's effectiveness in the field, as well as the Padawan's safety. If their enemies thought that the Master could be swayed . . . //
// Ah, I see. They must not know that you are my price, nor I yours. //
// Well put. //
// Rest now, // I instructed, pressing another gentle kiss to his lips. // And don't even consider slipping away in your sleep, because I won't let you. //
// Yes, Master, // he whispered, that touch of humor back. His eyes closed, as if he could no longer keep them open, and he drifted off to sleep, finally, but I couldn't. I was the only thing standing between him and death, the only thing saving him from overwhelming, intolerable pain. I kept close track of him through our bond, feeling each shallow breath, hearing each strained heartbeat.
I held him silently for a long time, feeling the slow passage of minutes. Overhead, above our meager cover, the planet's moons rose and began their slow journey across the sky. Beneath my hands, his blood still trickled, though slowly now, thank the Force. I used all my available energy to try again to aid his healing, pushing my own pain far into the back of my mind.
Qui-Gon's Force signature kept steadily thinning, the spark of the Force within him now was no more than a barely glowing ember. I could scarcely feel it. Despite his resolve and mine, I was afraid he was not going to last much longer.
Setting my teeth, I tightened my mental grip on his spirit, restraining it firmly. "I will not let you go, Master," I whispered near his ear, hearing the determination in my voice. My words roused him back to wakefulness, and he pressed his face against the top of my head. "Do you hear me, Qui-Gon Jinn? You will live! I will accept nothing else," I demanded, practically growling the words at him.
// --- hurts --- // he said into my mind, even his mental voice almost gone now.
I closed my eyes, feeling fresh tears dampen my dust-covered cheeks. // I know, Master. // And, I did. My own body was screaming with the pain I had directed away from him. I had released all I could to the Force. The rest simply had to be endured. // I know. But, we need to think about something else. //
// Can't . . . //
I sent a wave of strength through our link, knowing that my reserves were dangerously low. I checked my time sense. Two hours to go. A shard of ice slashed through my heart. Qui-Gon could not possibly survive for two more hours, could he? // You will hold on! // I told him again, my mental tone brooking no argument. I stretched upward, cringing as my body, too long in one position, objected with a flash of its own pain. I brushed my lips against his, a hint of a kiss on skin grown too cool. // Please don't leave me. //
// Oh, my beloved, // he sent back. Weakly, he caught my lower lip between his, and I felt the tip of his tongue trace it. Despite our dire situation, I felt a rush of blood go straight to my cock. Pressed against him as I was, I knew he felt it begin to fill and rise. // Ah, // his mind voice said. Was it my imagination or was it a little stronger than before? // Youth. //
I chuckled aloud, sliding my tongue forward and stroking it against his.
// I do love you, my own, // he said, and I flushed hotly at the endearment.
// Then, live for me. //
I felt his sigh echo through our link. // I shall try, Padawan, // he responded.
I could not resist teasing him a little, though our situation was far from humorous. // Master Yoda would whack your shins for that, my Master, // I reminded him. // 'Do, or do not,' // I quoted. // 'There is no try.' //
Despite his pain, I felt him smile.
I shifted a little, trying to ease the terrible cramp that my whole body had become, and I inadvertently jarred his wound. A shaft of white-hot pain shot through our strengthened link, both of feeling it equally, and I shoved my waning Force strength forward to combat it.
// Don't . . . // he sent, and I felt him trying to withdraw, trying to raise his non-existent shields against me. // Too close . . . //
I did not pretend to misunderstand. // Never too close, // I told him, injecting all of my certainty into the words. // We can never be too close. //
// Dangerous. // I could feel him groping for a word, for an explanation. // If we bond . . . //
// We will live or die together, // I sent back, wanting him to know that I understood the danger. // Where you go, I will follow, bond or no bond. //
His end of the link was silent, and for a moment, fear gripped me. Finally, I felt his mental surrender. // Oh, my obstinate one. // With that, he drifted off into welcome darkness, relatively pain free. I laid my head back on his shoulder and continued my vigil.
Qui-Gon had stopped shivering. I wish I could have believed it to be a good sign, but I didn't.
// Master? The rescue team will be here soon. // I longed to tell him when, but I had lost track of time, lost track of everything except the slow rise and fall of his chest, the weak, unsteady beat of his heart, the life-sapping agony of his wound.
There was no answer, only a brief wave of sadness through our bond.
// Don't you quit on me, Qui-Gon Jinn! // I ordered mentally. // Because if you die, I swear I'll follow you, into the Force and beyond! Do you hear me? I will not live without you! Not now, not ever! So, you just hold on! //
// Can't --- // he said, his mind voice so weak that I had to strain to hear it. I tried to send him more strength, but realized to my horror that I had no more to spare. Instead, I grasped onto his pain, onto the burning, searing fire that was slowly consuming his life, that my weakening had allowed to return, and struggled to draw still more of it away from him.
// Stop, // he said, a tiny measure of his old commanding tone back. // Don't throw your life away for me, my love. // His breath hitched in his chest, faltering, and his eyelashes tickled my cheek as his eyes fluttered closed.
"Don't you give up, damn you!"
// I'm - sorry . . . // His chest rose on a sigh, then fell, and did not rise again.
"NO!" I screamed, or tried to. My strength was nearly gone, and with it, my voice. I threw my spirit forward, anchoring myself more firmly to his. I gasped when the bond between us flared brightly. It seemed to envelop the whole of my being now, and the whole of Qui-Gon's. It was as if we were no longer two, but one. I wondered if this was what a soul bond felt like.
Then, darkness closed in around me, around us, linked so tightly together as we were. Determined to keep my last promise to him, I let my eyes close and let that darkness suck me inside, not knowing if either of us would survive it.
I awoke, some indeterminate time later, to the all too familiar sounds and smells of a medical establishment. Where, I didn't know, nor did I care. All I could feel or think about was the hollowness in my heart, the emptiness of my arms.
Qui-Gon was no longer with me.
"Awake, I know you are, Obi-Wan," Master Yoda's familiar syntax said from somewhere nearby. I struggled to open my eyes, blinking against the brightness of the room. A wave of his hand brought the lights down several notches.
"Why?" I whispered, barely recognizing my own voice. "Why did you save me?"
Yoda tilted his head, his ear tips drooping. "Want you to die you think your Master would?"
"I failed him."
"Failed him, you did not."
"How can you say that? I wasn't strong enough! I couldn't save him!"
"Save him, you did."
"Don't give me that 'there is no death, there is the Force,' crap, Yoda!" I had never spoken so to this venerable old Master, but now I didn't care. "I promised him we'd be together forever, that if he died I'd follow him! I still intend to!"
"Hasty you must not be," Yoda said, unperturbed by my outburst. "And, before release your spirit to the Force you do, look behind you I think you should, hmmm?"
Angry and heartsick, I nevertheless turned my head. Behind me stood a bacta tank, and floating in its pink slime --- "MASTER!" I screamed, abrading my throat with the effort. I tried to sit up, thrashing like a beached fish when I couldn't. Dizziness made me queasy, and a sharp pain in both shoulders kept me from using my arms to push myself up. A moment later, a pair of strong hands caught me and pressed me onto my back. I looked up into the warm violet eyes of Jedi Healer Neesi Vortrela.
I blinked in surprise, wondering how by all the little gods she could be here, when this was clearly not the Temple on Coruscant. I must have been broadcasting, for she answered my silent question.
"Master Yoda felt a disturbance in the Force and knew that Qui-Gon was critically injured. He and I and Master Windu got here as quickly as we could."
I frowned. "We're still on Rifveria?" I asked, looking around.
Healer Vortrela chuckled. "Now I know how out of it you've been. No, we're on Windu's ship, on our way home."
Startled, I strained my ears, and finally heard the faint sounds of the ship's engine. But, I had no sense of moving through space as I usually did.
"Don't worry," Neesi said, clearly understanding my distress. "You strained your Force abilities to the limit saving Qui-Gon," she told me. "It will take some time for you to get back to normal."
"My Master," I said, swallowing against the dryness in my mouth. "How is he? Will he be all right?"
"It's a nasty injury, I won't deny that," she said, glancing at the bacta tank. "He was nearly gone when we found you. But, he's a strong one. I expect a full recovery, although the time it will take will no doubt strain everyone's patience."
I felt myself sag with relief, and my shoulders twinged again. "What's wrong with my arms?" I asked, wondering if I had done irreparable damage to them in the dark ruins of that bombed out house.
"I'm afraid that's my doing," a deep voice said from the doorway. I turned my head to meet Master Windu's eyes. "When we finally dug you out, Qui-Gon was barely alive, and you had a death grip on him, both mentally and physically. In order for Healer Vortrela to treat him, you had to be separated, and --- " He shrugged, his gaze darting away as if he were embarrassed. He cleared his throat. "I'm afraid I ---"
"Dislocated your shoulders, Windu did," Master Yoda piped in, reaching to poke the dark skinned Master with the end of his gimer stick. "Only way to separate you it was."
I looked back at the Healer. "Will Qui-Gon really be all right?"
"It was close, but yes, he will be. Although how you managed to keep him alive is beyond me."
Exhausted, I let my eyes close, unable to keep them open any longer. After a moment, however, I sensed Yoda's gaze on me, and turned my head slightly to look.
"Something to tell us, have you, Padawan Kenobi?" he asked in that cryptic way of his. I felt my face blush hotly, and drew my lower lip into my mouth, unwilling to speak. "Form a bond you did, you and Qui-Gon," Yoda continued when it became obvious that I wasn't going to speak. "Love each other, you do."
Both Vortrela and Master Windu seemed startled by that. The Healer looked pleased, while Windu most definitely did not.
"Yes, Master Yoda," I said softly, wondering just how much trouble I was in, both with them and with my Master when he discovered our secret was out. Yoda's next words surprised me.
"About time, it is."
All eyes turned to him. "Master?" I said.
"Loved you for years, Qui-Gon has," Yoda explained. "Knew this, I did. Knew I also that return that love you did. Much too stubborn by half, both of you are. Admit it, I did not think you ever would."
"This is highly irregular," Mace Windu began, but he cut off with a yelp and a glare as Yoda jabbed him again with his gimer stick.
"The will of the Force, it is!" the small Master said, returning Windu's glare with one of his own. "Good for each other, they are! Lost Qui-Gon today we would have, if not for this bond."
"I agree with Master Yoda," the healer said, her violet eyes sparkling merrily. "You saved him, Padawan, and I don't just mean his life. After Xanatos, Qui-Gon was little more than a shell. You breathed life back into him, gave him hope and a reason to get up each morning. You taught him to love again." She reached to touch me on the temple, her eyes losing her focus as she gauged my condition. "Enough," she said abruptly. "Out, all of you. My patient needs his rest."
"Thank you," I said to the room in general as Yoda and Windu made their way toward the door. "From both of us."
"Our pleasure it was," Yoda said. "Take good care of my Padawan, you will, hmmm?"
I grinned. "Oh, yes, Master. I'll take very good care of him." As the room emptied, I rolled carefully over so that I faced the portable bacta tank and the precious life it sustained. With that image to focus on, I let myself surrender to healing sleep.
The End