The Medbay doors were hanging crooked, and Cody was stood in the gap, armed and grim-faced. Not a promising situation.
“Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked, slightly more winded from sprinting there than Lucky would probably be happy about when word got back to him.
“First bed on the right, Sir,” Cody said, stepping aside. “Kix had to knock him out, but he can't find anything physically wrong with him.”
Obi-Wan gave a quick nod of acknowledgement; then headed inside. True to Cody's word, there was his wayward once-padawan, face almost painfully innocent in repose.
“Oh, Ani...” It was more instinct than any real intent that moved Obi-Wan's hand to brush a stray lock of hair away from Anakin's forehead. He hadn't done that in years; certainly not since Anakin first grew taller than him. It seemed...a little too emotional a gesture to allow himself around an adult. Not the Jedi way. Master Yoda would not approve.
Well, damn Master Yoda.
“Sir?”
Kix. Obi-Wan schooled his features into something a little more professional, and gave the medic his full attention.
“Go ahead, Kix.”
“Not to be indelicate, Sir, but it's his baby, isn't it?”
Obi-Wan's world folded in on itself around the edges, and he hadn't the wherewithal to resist as Kix took his arm and guided him to perch on the foot of the next bed over.
“Easy, Sir. You're all right.”
A few deep, shaky breaths, and Obi-Wan managed a nod. He didn't quite trust his ability to confirm Kix's theory verbally.
“Well, I suppose that explains the state General Skywalker got himself into. He came in here asking about his medical records. Seemed not to quite have control of...you know –” Kix wiggled his fingers in a way that was evidently supposed to represent the Force “– and it didn't seem likely I'd be able to talk him down from it. Hence the sedation.”
The whole speech was delivered in the sort of tone usually reserved for shock victims. Perhaps that was closer to the truth than Obi-Wan might like to admit, even to himself, but at least the slight fuzziness was receding.
“Back with me, Sir?”
“Yes, Kix, thank you.” Obi-Wan was aware he was missing proper Jedi serenity by a long way, but the words came out intelligibly, which had to count for something.
“Is there anything you'd like to talk about before he comes round? My office is free, and I'm sure Commander Cody can keep an eye on things here without me for a while.”
“I...I don't know that I'd like to, Kix, but I think perhaps I'd better.”
“Fair enough. Come on then, Sir. I'll make us a pot of tea.”
--------------------
Anakin woke to the familiar throb of a sedative-induced headache. He allowed himself a brief string of mental invective; then opened his eyes. Bright. Ow. More invective, this time verbal.
“Good morning to you, too, Sir.”
Only Lucky ever took that prim tone with patients. Just his luck. Ha. It was shaping up to be a fabulous day if his mind was on terrible pun mode already. Obi-Wan would not approve.
Wait.
“Where's Obi-Wan?”
“In his quarters, sleeping. You're not to disturb him.”
“But –”
“Not until he wakes up of his own accord, Sir. If you have any urgent questions, I will answer them. Anything else can wait.”
“I'll hold you to that, Lucky. Any chance of a painkiller first?”
[FILL] The Youngling (10/?)
“Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked, slightly more winded from sprinting there than Lucky would probably be happy about when word got back to him.
“First bed on the right, Sir,” Cody said, stepping aside. “Kix had to knock him out, but he can't find anything physically wrong with him.”
Obi-Wan gave a quick nod of acknowledgement; then headed inside. True to Cody's word, there was his wayward once-padawan, face almost painfully innocent in repose.
“Oh, Ani...” It was more instinct than any real intent that moved Obi-Wan's hand to brush a stray lock of hair away from Anakin's forehead. He hadn't done that in years; certainly not since Anakin first grew taller than him. It seemed...a little too emotional a gesture to allow himself around an adult. Not the Jedi way. Master Yoda would not approve.
Well, damn Master Yoda.
“Sir?”
Kix. Obi-Wan schooled his features into something a little more professional, and gave the medic his full attention.
“Go ahead, Kix.”
“Not to be indelicate, Sir, but it's his baby, isn't it?”
Obi-Wan's world folded in on itself around the edges, and he hadn't the wherewithal to resist as Kix took his arm and guided him to perch on the foot of the next bed over.
“Easy, Sir. You're all right.”
A few deep, shaky breaths, and Obi-Wan managed a nod. He didn't quite trust his ability to confirm Kix's theory verbally.
“Well, I suppose that explains the state General Skywalker got himself into. He came in here asking about his medical records. Seemed not to quite have control of...you know –” Kix wiggled his fingers in a way that was evidently supposed to represent the Force “– and it didn't seem likely I'd be able to talk him down from it. Hence the sedation.”
The whole speech was delivered in the sort of tone usually reserved for shock victims. Perhaps that was closer to the truth than Obi-Wan might like to admit, even to himself, but at least the slight fuzziness was receding.
“Back with me, Sir?”
“Yes, Kix, thank you.” Obi-Wan was aware he was missing proper Jedi serenity by a long way, but the words came out intelligibly, which had to count for something.
“Is there anything you'd like to talk about before he comes round? My office is free, and I'm sure Commander Cody can keep an eye on things here without me for a while.”
“I...I don't know that I'd like to, Kix, but I think perhaps I'd better.”
“Fair enough. Come on then, Sir. I'll make us a pot of tea.”
--------------------
Anakin woke to the familiar throb of a sedative-induced headache. He allowed himself a brief string of mental invective; then opened his eyes. Bright. Ow. More invective, this time verbal.
“Good morning to you, too, Sir.”
Only Lucky ever took that prim tone with patients. Just his luck. Ha. It was shaping up to be a fabulous day if his mind was on terrible pun mode already. Obi-Wan would not approve.
Wait.
“Where's Obi-Wan?”
“In his quarters, sleeping. You're not to disturb him.”
“But –”
“Not until he wakes up of his own accord, Sir. If you have any urgent questions, I will answer them. Anything else can wait.”
“I'll hold you to that, Lucky. Any chance of a painkiller first?”
“There's a hypo on the night-stand.”
So there was. Oh.
“Thanks.”
“It's my job, Sir.”
...Anakin hated dealing with Lucky.