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Obi-Wan never wanted to let his Master down. The very thought of disappointing Qui-Gon made his heart race and his palms sweat. Obi-Wan had yet to prove himself to his new Master and one slip up would certainly be enough for Qui-Gon to undo what had been done – it would be enough to force Obi-Wan back to the AgriCorps.
Or so Obi-Wan believed.
Obi-Wan would rather die than go back there, so perhaps that was why he was so willing to hide the bite from Qui-Gon.
Obi-Wan had almost gotten away unharmed. He had almost fended off the creatures that attacked them, but he hadn’t been quick enough. He hadn’t defended himself well enough. It was his own mistakes that allowed one of the creatures to bite his arm. Qui-Gon had been too occupied fending off the majority of the pack to notice Obi-Wan’s soft gasp of pain when the creature had bit him. It was better this way. It hurt, but nothing was broken and it wasn’t like the creature had punctured any arteries. Obi-Wan would be fine. He would just clean it up when they returned to Coruscant and his Master would be none the wiser. It wasn’t a big deal. No need to make a scene. Luckily, his robes were dark enough to hide the blood oozing from the puncture wounds in his arm. Plus, the flight to Coruscant was a short one. As far as slip-ups went, this one was turning out better than most.
Qui-Gon had cut down the last of the creatures and disengaged his saber. Panting, he made his way over to Obi-Wan. “Are you alright, Padawan?” he asked, still out of breath and sweat darkening his hair.
“Of course, Master.”
“Good, then let’s get out of here. The ship is only a few klicks away.”
“Alright.”
Qui-Gon nodded before turning around and leading the way. Obi-Wan followed along, grateful that Qui-Gon was in front, clearing most of the vines and branches in their path.
It was only after a few minutes of walking through the thick jungle that Obi-Wan started to feel… off. He was starting to feel queasy and his vision lacked its usual clarity. The wound in his arm seemed to pulse with every heartbeat.
The height difference between Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon was also proving to be more bothersome than usual. Obi-Wan had always found it difficult to keep up with his Master’s long strides, but now, the task seemed impossible. He felt as though he were walking through water. The intense humidity in the jungle did not help with those matters.
“Come on, Padawan,” Qui-Gon encouraged from ahead. “I don’t want another run-in with those creatures. Or anything worse for that matter.”
“Yes, Master.”
Obi-Wan tried to pick up his pace but he was having a hard time seeing straight. He tripped and fell into a tangle of vines.
“Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon called from ahead, voice dripping with worry. He double-backed to Obi-Wan’s position. “What happened?”
“Tripped,” Obi-Wan said, a little drowsily. “Didn’t see the root.”
Qui-Gon quirked an eyebrow at him. “Are you alright, Padawan?”
“Of course, Master,” Obi-Wan replied, but he made no move to get up. It was hard to do when the landscape seemed to be tilting around him.
Qui-Gon reached for him and grabbed his arm, right where the bite was. Obi-Wan yelped in pain.
“What?” Qui-Gon whispered in surprise as he drew his hand back. He looked at his hand and his eyes widened at the blood now covering his palm. “Obi-Wan, you’re hurt!”
“It’s alright, Master,” Obi-Wan insisted. “It was just a bite. I’ll just patch it up back on the ship.”
“Just a… Obi-Wan, that thing bit you?”
“Yes, but it’s no big deal, I- agh,” Obi-Wan hissed in pain as he pulled himself to his feet. “It’s- it’s not a big deal.”
“I will be the judge of that,” Qui-Gon said. He then helped Obi-Wan pull his robe off. Underneath, the sleeve of his cream-colored tunic had turned red. Qui-Gon ripped the sleeve off.
“Hey!” Obi-Wan said before he remembered himself. “I mean, uh, why did you do that?”
“I need to see the wound. You’ve almost outgrown this tunic anyway, I’ll get you a new one when we get home.”
Obi-Wan didn’t reply to Qui-Gon’s reasoning because now he was staring at the wound on his arm.
“Oh,” he whispered, suddenly feeling faint. He swayed a little, but Qui-Gon put a strong hand on his shoulder to stabilize him.
Inky black tendrils spread in the skin around the four puncture wounds, highlighting his veins and capillaries. Blood still leaked out of the bite and the skin that was not black was red and inflamed.
“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon whispered. “This is- this doesn’t look… I think that creature might have been venomous.”
“That would make sense,” Obi-Wan said. He could swear the ground under his feet was moving, but Qui-Gon didn’t seem to be affected by the strange phenomenon. “Master?”
“Yes, Obi-Wan?”
“Why are there two of you?”
The Qui-Gons tilted their heads in concern at him. “There aren’t two of me,” they said with one voice.
That was weird. Obi-Wan shook his head in an attempt to clear his vision. Mistake. Obi-Wan collapsed to his knees and vomited into the pile of vines he had just been ensnared in. A gentle hand rubbed his back. Panting with exertion, he climbed to his feet again like a newborn animal standing up for the first time on wobbly legs. He started to fall backwards, but he landed in Qui-Gon’s arms.
Obi-Wan bounced around uncomfortably in Qui-Gon’s arms as his Master ran as fast as his legs would carry him. He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned his head on Qui-Gon’s chest. The Force felt far away, so he centered himself around Qui-Gon’s rapid heartbeat. He tried to shield his distress, but his control over his shields was slipping.
“It’s okay Padawan, we’re almost there. Just take deep breaths for me.”
Obi-Wan tried to do as he was told, but he was finding it more and more difficult to expand his lungs as far as they would normally go.
“Master,” Obi-Wan whined. His previous fear of slipping up in front of Qui-Gon was now being overrun by his current fear of dying.
“Hang in there, Obi-Wan. Just hang in there.”
The bright lights in the halls of healing were giving Qui-Gon a headache. He had always hated it here. Sure, he hated being a patient, but he hated watching his vibrant, young Padawan lying so still and so pale in the medical bed even more. In a heartbeat, Qui-Gon would have switched places with Obi-Wan – if such things were possible. But they weren’t, so he kept watch over the young boy that he was meant to protect.
The flight to Coruscant hadn’t even been an hour long but every minute of it had been agonizing for both of them. By the end of the flight, Obi-Wan was gasping for breath. His lips had just started to turn blue when they landed in the temple loading dock. Healers had been waiting for him and they had immediately rushed his Padawan off to the halls. Qui-Gon ran behind him before a firm hand stopped him.
“Let me go, Mace,” Qui-Gon growled, pushing against his friend. Mace was one of the few people Qui-Gon couldn’t easily overpower with physicality alone.
“Let the healers work, Qui-Gon,” Mace said calmly. “You will only get in their way.”
“But-”
“Whatever happens now is the will of the Force, my friend. Trust in it. I believe it has great plans for young Kenobi.”
Qui-Gon huffed and ran a hand through his unkempt hair. “You’re right. My apologies, Mace.”
“Your apologies are noted, but unnecessary,” Mace said with a soft smile. “Meditate with me. Master Che will summon you when you are needed.”
“Alright,” Qui-Gon sighed. He followed Mace to a meditation room. Qui-Gon let Mace’s calm energy wash over him and ease his worried mind.
“Mace,” Qui-Gon said, breaking their meditation.
“What is it, my friend?”
“Why would he hide his injuries from me? I’m his Master, he should know that I’m supposed to watch over him and protect him.”
“Yes, he should know that,” Mace said. “But does he?”
“Of course he…” Qui-Gon wanted to protest his friend’s question but found that he couldn’t. Maybe he hadn’t been open enough with Obi-Wan. Maybe Obi-Wan wasn’t comfortable around him. Maybe Obi-Wan didn’t trust him.
Any calm Qui-Gon had achieved in the brief meditation was fading away. “Mace, what if he doesn’t make it?”
“Obi-Wan is strong,” Mace reassured. “And as I said earlier, I believe the Force is with him.”
Qui-Gon took a deep breath. “Thank you for this. But I should return to him. I should be there when he wakes up. I don’t want him to be scared.”
“Go,” Mace said, nodding his head. “Go be there for your Padawan.”
That’s how Qui-Gon found himself now sitting in an uncomfortable chair at Obi-Wan’s bedside. Master Che insisted that the venom had been neutralized and that Obi-Wan would be fine, but Qui-Gon’s worry only increased at the sight of his Padawan. A thin sheen of sweat covered Obi-Wan’s skin. His head tossed and turned fitfully. He arched his back in obvious pain. He sunk back down into the thin mattress, but his body remained rigid. Pained whimpers broke from his lips and he murmured quietly to himself, but Qui-Gon couldn’t make out anything he said. He knew his Padawan needed rest, but this sleep looked anything but restful.
“Padawan, wake up.”
Obi-Wan gave no signs of waking.
“Come on, Obi-Wan. Wake up.” Gently, Qui-Gon shook his shoulder.
With a harsh gasp, Obi-Wan awoke. His eyes were fever-bright and frightened. He pushed himself into a sitting position and tried to catch his breath. Qui-Gon could tell breathing was still difficult for his poor Padawan. Obi-Wan coughed harshly. All Qui-Gon could do was rub his back and sit helplessly by while his young apprentice suffered.
“It’s okay, Obi-Wan. Hush. It’s okay.”
Qui-Gon pointed a straw at him and Obi-Wan took a few small sips of water. His coughing finally slowed. He took a few more ragged breaths. The sound of his lungs trying to fill themselves with oxygen was gut-wrenching. It made Qu-Gon’s own chest hurt.
“Master?” Obi-Wan questioned softly.
“Yes, little one?”
Obi-Wan hesitated.
“It’s alright, Obi-Wan, you can ask me anything,” Qui-Gon urged.
Obi-Wan’s lip wobbled and his glassy eyes were brimmed with tears.
“Padawan, please,” Qui-Gon said, his apprehension growing by the second. “What is on your mind?”
“Please don’t send me back. I don’t want to go back. I want to stay with you,” Obi-Wan finally spat out. He immediately averted his gaze from Qui-Gon, instead choosing to focus on the hem of the blankets pooled in his lap.
Qui-Gon cocked his head at him in confusion. “Send you back where?”
“To the AgriCorps. I don’t… I can’t go back there.”
Oh.
Qui-Gon’s heart broke at the thought of his Padawan thinking that he wouldn’t be wanted. That his obvious talents in the Force would go unnoticed. That his inherent goodness, his light, would simply be overlooked.
Except he had been overlooked. Qui-Gon pushed the thought down. That was the past. He was going to do everything in his power to make Obi-Wan’s future a bright one.
Then another thought occurred to him. “Is that why you didn’t tell me about the bite?”
The guilty expression on Obi-Wan’s face was telling enough.
“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said firmly. “No one is sending you to the AgriCorps. Certainly not me. You are my Padawan and you are to be a Jedi, but you need to tell me when you are sick or hurt.”
“You don’t want to send me back?” Obi-Wan’s voice was small. Unsure.
“No,” Qui-Gon said firmly. “You will make an excellent Jedi.” Qui-Gon paused and gave Obi-Wan a warm smile. “I look forward to knighting you one day.”
Puzzled eyes met his. “But you say to focus on the here and now, not the future.”
Qui-Gon laughed. Leave it to Obi-Wan to call him out on his own hypocrisy.
“No one ever said we couldn’t have goals ,” Qui-Gon teased.
Obi-Wan smiled demurely at him. “I can’t picture myself as a Knight.”
“Oh I can,” Qui-Gon said. “But I don’t much want to. I like having you around as my Padawan. Even when you scare the Force out of me.”
Obi-Wan giggled before coughing again. Qui-Gon’s expression turned to one of concern.
“I’m alright, Master,” he said once he caught his breath.
“You better be.” Qui-Gon gently pushed Obi-Wan back so he was lying down again. “Get some rest, Obi-Wan.”
And Obi-Wan did as his Master asked.