A Way Back Homeward
a Star Wars story
by Nermal
The winter season on Coruscant arrived every year in the damp, gray wisps of a thin fog. Curling around the durasteel towers, the cold mist blurred the edges and dulled the lights of the highest structures. Just when you thought the cold could not be any more penetrating, as the fog crept into your lungs and numbed your wrists, a freezing rain would fall. Tiny ice slivers that melted as soon as they hit the metal surfaces and made the buildings glisten silver against the winter white sky. The soft, chilly mist and the sharp, biting rain were the usual heralds of the cold season, with a comfort in their familiar dreariness.
Most unusual, then, was the thick, constant fog that enveloped Coruscant as Knight Kenobi stepped out of the Kath'Ar Embassy. The dense cloud wrapped the whole planet in eerie, dreamlike quiet. Unable to navigate in the weather, all air traffic had been grounded, leaving the city-planet unnaturally silent; the fog muffled the voices and footsteps of pedestrians. Motion, sound, even sensation, slowed in the moist air, as if surrounded by damp cotton. Unhealthy warmth hung in the air and penetrated clothing after a few minutes outside.
Beneath layers of material, a feverish heat caused sweat to mingle with the damp there even as Obi-Wan Kenobi's hands grew numb in the winter air. Walking through the suspended drizzle, Obi-Wan soon became drenched, his cloak uncomfortable and heavy. He pushed a fall of wet hair off his forehead and paused. Although familiar, the walk to the Temple was distorted strangely by the fog. Shapes and forms filtered through the gray-white mist, recognizable only as Obi-Wan matched the blurred images to memories. A droplet of water ran down from his long bangs, coursed down his forehead and dripped off the tip of his nose.
Close to miserable, Obi-Wan wiped his nose in the sleeve of his already sodden cloak. The Force was truly working against him. He might not have been trudging back to the Temple if he had not injured his knee. The fog might not have been that bad if he had not come down with a cold. The ticklish feeling in his nose and throat might have been bearable, if he had not been required to give a five hour report in the Kath'Ar Embassy upon return to Coruscant. The perfect welcome home from his assignment on the desert planet. Or, as he liked to put it, his bureaucracy induced, protocol intensified, three-month long headache.
"I'm starting to sound like Qui-Gon." Obi-Wan muttered and bent down to massage his left knee. An odd feeling of panic shot through his stomach. For a half-second, he feared he would not see Qui-Gon upon reaching home. Dismissing the feeling as the result of fatigue, he shook his hair out of his eyes. Another rivulet of water trickled down his nose and he sneezed loudly. "Ehhishhahh!! Ahh, huhschoo!"
Obi-Wan could not exactly recall when his throat had started to tickle. Probably around the same time his nose had started running and his shoulders had started to ache. Which would have been somewhere between when he started limping because of the hurt knee and when he arrived at the Kath'Ar Embassy. All of it, however, he felt distinctly as he plodded on toward the Jedi Temple.
Gritting his teeth, Obi-Wan sent what healing energy he had left to his injured knee. The cartilage had torn in a skirmish a few days before he left Kath'Ar. He had been able to heal the injury partway, but a run in with space pirates and the development of a head cold, both en route to Coruscant, had slowed down the process considerably. Achy and tired, all he wanted was to be home again and sleep. Obi-Wan sent a small mental probe over the bond he shared with Qui-Gon, carefully shielding any evidence of his injury and illness. Walking into the Jedi Temple he felt a caress that told him his bondmate was in their quarters and awaiting him.
The discomfort of the humid air faded as he neared his quarters and the cold air chilled his damp clothes. Soft warmth trickled through his mind as he felt his mate's signature, a distinct thread in the pattern of Force signatures that made up the Jedi Temple. Shivering, he pulled a handkerchief out to blow his nose. His heart sank as he noticed the cloth was wet. Obi-Wan searched for a relatively dry spot and half-heartedly palmed the door to his chambers open.
"Welcome home, Obi-Wan love." Qui-Gon stood in the foyer of their quarters, clad in old workout trousers and a sleep tunic. He reached for Obi-Wan's survival kit and quickly kissed him on the lips.
"Thanks, no, Qui-Gon, I can take care of that myself, I'm not a padawan any more." He took the pack away from Qui-Gon with a jerky movement, but relented when he saw hurt cloud Qui-Gon's eyes.
"No, not a padawan any longer," Qui-Gon smiled and dropped his eyes as he spoke, "but you'll always be my padawan." He reached out an arm and hugged Obi-Wan, bringing there foreheads together. "You better come in before you catch a chill. It's not raining, it is?"
Obi-Wan looked up from his attempt to unfold the handkerchief and walked in, shaking his head.
"No, not raining, it's just the sithspawn fog, like walking through a cloud." A loud series of sniffles punctuated his statement, followed by a short gasp as a pre-sneeze expression froze on his face. "Hehh, ahh, hishhoo!! Ehishhh!! Chshhishh!! Ahh, huh-yishhoo!"
Dazed by the sudden, violent outburst of sneezes, Obi-Wan stood still, lowering his hand from his face slowly. Whatever shields he had been able to erect quickly melted away and a shadow of worry crossed from Qui-Gon. Annoyed at both the anxious look in his lover's eyes and the now uncontrollable sniffles he had, Obi-Wan shrugged Qui-Gon's hands off his shoulders. Obi-Wan roughly removed his own cloak and rubbed his nose in a vaguely more dry tunic sleeve.
"You're already ill." Qui-Gon stated simply as he took the wet cloak from Obi-Wan's hands and hung it up. He pulled a handkerchief from his own tunic as he faced Obi-Wan. "And you're injured?"
"Just post-space travel sniffles and the effects of rapid climate change, really, Qui-Gon, I can blow my own nose." Obi-Wan snapped and swatted the clean handkerchief from his face. His look of reproach crumpled when Obi-Wan gasped sharply and failed to suppress another small sneezing fit. "Ishhhahh!! Eh, HiihTisshoo! AhhChoo, ishhoo, tishhih! AhhTishhh!"
Without meeting Qui-Gon's eyes or replying to his blessing, Obi-Wan hastily removed his saber and belt. With an impatient sniffle, he turned toward the common room. The brusque movement twisted his injured leg and a gut-wrenching fear of falling sliced through his heart. Knee buckling painfully beneath him, Obi-Wan reflexively grabbed Qui-Gon's arm.
"I'm so sorry." Obi-Wan whispered and looked into Qui-Gon's eyes. This time, however, the worry there dissolved his annoyance. He leaned into Qui-Gon and accepted the assistance his lover offered. "I need your help. You're so good to me and I hurt you, I'm so sorry."
"Hush, Pet, come sit down." Speaking calmly, Qui-Gon supported his weight and led him to the couch.
Once seated, Qui-Gon brushed wet strands of hair off his face and kissed his cheek. Careful fingertips feathered over his eyebrows, lingering on his forehead for a moment, then stroked his face and neck. Qui-Gon pressed his lips to Obi-Wan's temple for a long moment before drawing away with a quiet kiss.
"I didn't mean to be so rude, love," Obi-Wan apologized, wiping a runny nose into his sleeve again, "I didn't mean to get sick, either."
"You were always so sensitive," Qui-Gon murmured as he unwound Obi-Wan's sash, "coming home with the sniffles or a cold in the nose."
Obi-Wan smiled wanly and let Qui-Gon remove his tabard and outer tunics. He did have a history of returning from missions sneezing and shivering, but always to be held warm and tight in his master's, and later, lover's arms. The air that hit his skin as the layers of tunics were peeled off was so cold compared to Qui-Gon's hands. As if sensing the shivers that Obi-Wan felt, Qui-Gon rubbed his back and shoulders gently, just enough to warm his skin. He then unfolded a thick blanket and wrapped it around Obi-Wan. It was one from their bed, and Obi-Wan could smell, even through his congestion, the light scent of soap, cologne and sweat that helped define home for him.
Snuggling into the blanket, Obi-Wan watched Qui-Gon slide his boots off. He reached down and touched Qui-Gon's hair. "Thank you." He kept his hand on Qui-Gon, sliding it over his shoulder and arm as his lover rose. "I, ehheh, Eh! Ehhishhoo! Ohhh. I just hate being sick."
"My baby, my Obi-Wan, I know, it's all right." Qui-Gon placed the handkerchief in Obi-Wan's lap. He lifted Obi-Wan's hand to his lips and kissed the back softly, his moustache tickling the skin. "I'll draw you a bath while you warm up."
Nodding, Obi-Wan held a bent index finger beneath his nose and sniffled. The one sneeze had been more of a tease than anything else. The urge to sneeze flared up again, his nose quivering as sensation burned in the back of his throat and then faded. Left with only a runny nose, he rubbed the tip with his knuckle and let out a slow breath. Gods, he did hate being ill, but it was so nice to be home and warm and with Qui-Gon. Oh, Force. Qui-Gon. What would he do without his bondmate?
Soft candlelight flickered in the room and an open book on the table gave evidence that Qui-Gon had been reading before Obi-Wan's arrival. Obi-Wan clutched the blanket around his chest and yawned deeply. The candles, blanket, book - all of it had been here with Qui-Gon before Obi-Wan got home. The thought had an odd comfort to it. Taking up the handkerchief, Obi-Wan yawned again before getting a chance to start blowing his nose. Blinking and sniffling, he looked again at the array of objects before him. Was that a mug of tea on the table? He leaned forward and inspected the half-full container of steaming liquid.
// You can finish it if you like, Obi. It's spice tea. //
Vaguely embarrassed that his shields had slipped, Obi-Wan sent a shy thanks to Qui-Gon over their bond. He took a few sips of the wonderful tea and put the mug down reluctantly. His runny nose made it impossible to drink properly. For what seemed the first time in ages, he blew his nose until a tiny twinge of congestion in his sinuses stopped him. Obi-Wan wiped his still sniffly nose in the handkerchief and picked up the mug again. He adjusted the blanket so he could drink comfortably and keep the cold away.
Obi-Wan breathed the steam of tea in deeply and let the mug warm his hands. Qui-Gon's taste lingered on the mug, where he had sipped from it. Obi-Wan licked his tongue across the smooth porcelain and let his lover's taste mingle with the delicate tea. It felt like ages since the last taste, the last warm hug. He drank the beverage slowly, tea and soft memory flowing over his lips, tongue, teeth and sore throat as he relaxed into the couch.
His eyes followed the dancing shadows the candlelight produced as he raised the handkerchief to his nose. Carefully he put down the mug and rested his elbows on his knees. A sneeze was in there somewhere; he nudged the tip of nose against the cloth, drew back a little as he inhaled, then covered both nose and mouth with the handkerchief.
"EhhChiff!! Shschoo! AhhIshhh!! Tishh, ishhoo!" Obi-Wan breathed in quickly, expecting another sneeze, then exhaled slowly. A touch to his shoulder made him turn around. Qui-Gon slid down next to him and gently rubbed his back.
"Bless you, Obi-Wan." An arm slipped around his shoulders and Qui-Gon hugged him close.
Gaspy breaths signaled another fit of sneezes, slow to build up. "Heh, hiih, ehh, Tshchooh!! Ahh, shoo, ihhshoo!! Kih!shhoo! Ahh, huhh, HuhhShhishh!!"
"Bless you. Pet, do you need to sneeze again?" Nuzzling Obi-Wan's neck, Qui-Gon kept his arm around the younger man as he nodded.
"Ihhtishhih! Ishhoo! HepTishh, EH!tishhoo, AhhhTISHHOO!! Ah!SHOO!" Obi-Wan leaned back slowly and wiped his nose. He felt tired, oh so tired, and Qui-Gon was so solid and warm next to him.
// The chill is still inside your bones, my dear. I promise, you can sleep as much as you need to after a hot bath. //
That voice, the words, the tone, he felt more than heard in his mind. Familiar and long-missed, Qui-Gon's mental voice was as comfortable as his own thoughts. Obi-Wan raised his eyes and turned to face Qui-Gon.
// You are my beloved, Qui-Gon. And I do miss you so much when we're apart. //
Sudden odd emotion rose up in Obi-Wan and he touched Qui-Gon's face, as if to assure himself his lover was really there. His throat was tight and sore and his nose started to run, something like a sob catching in his chest. Where did this emotion come from? What fear lanced through his heart? Finding no answer, Obi-Wan touched Qui-Gon's lips with his fingers and swallowed down the painful lump in his throat.
// Miss you so much, Master. //
// I am here, love, Obi-Wan. I won't leave you. //
Qui-Gon held him close and stroked his hair. He kissed Obi-Wan lightly on the eyelids and nose, then let Obi-Wan bury his face in his tunic front.
"My poor baby, so sick," Qui-Gon leaned his head on Obi-Wan's and hugged him tighter, "so sick and so cold. Hush, I'll take care of you."
"Still your padawan?" Obi-Wan mumbled into Qui-Gon's chest.
"Still my padawan, Obi. My dear, dear padawan." Qui-Gon pressed him close, his heartbeat slow, steady and reassuring.
The fear flickered in Obi-Wan's heart once more, then faded. Obi-Wan lifted his head from Qui-Gon's chest and accepted a gentle kiss to his lips. He rose from the couch with difficulty, knee stiff and painful, but was able to make slow progress to the 'fresher with Qui-Gon's help. The thought of falling never crossed his mind as he hobbled into the 'fresher or stood in the steamy, warm room and let Qui-Gon remove his clothing. Obi-Wan was home, and being home, besides being with Qui-Gon, meant being safe. Hand gripping Qui-Gon's for support, he sank into the hot bath and let the feeling of safety wash over him.
Water softened with lightly scented oil, the bath was soothing and warming. Obi-Wan felt his muscles relax and heat seeped into his body, starting at his fingers and toes, then spreading upwards and inwards. He flexed his hurt knee a bit, pressing his lips together as the pain flared up and subsided as he stilled his leg. After a few moments he shifted, the water flooding over his chest, in order to start washing. Searching the edge of the tub for a cloth, Obi-Wan met with strong fingers. He opened sleepy eyes and smiled at Qui-Gon, who knelt by the tub stripped of his tunic, hair pulled back into a tail at the nape of his neck.
The lights in the 'fresher had been dialed down to a low setting, shedding enough light for Obi-Wan to see his lover clearly, but no more. Obi-Wan petted Qui-Gon's hand then pulled the hand and Qui-Gon closer to him. Warm breath caressed his neck as Qui-Gon nuzzled his hair.
"Is the water warm enough, Pet?" Qui-Gon asked, pulling away from Obi-Wan. Gentle fingertips skirted over Obi-Wan's stomach and up his chest, soft and smooth under the water.
"Perfect." Yawning, Obi-Wan sat up after Qui-Gon coaxed him with a light kiss to the tip of his ear. "You remember how hot I like it."
Qui-Gon paused as he poured soap onto a cloth and gave Obi-Wan a quick smile. Tender strokes cleaned Obi-Wan's skin while they eased the muscles underneath, sleepy warmth replacing cold anxiety.
"As if I could forget, Obi-Wan." He moved the wet, soapy cloth over Obi-Wan's shoulders and arms. "It's just one of those things you always remember."
"Like how much honey you put in your tea," Obi-Wan mused, recalling how diligently, as a padawan, he had watched his master make tea, just so he could learn how Qui-Gon liked it.
At the funny look Qui-Gon gave him, Obi-Wan smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
"It's like second nature to me now, loving you, like breathing." Obi-Wan stuttered out the last few words, intent on keeping his sneezing to a minimum. The feeling almost backed away, then suddenly burst forth. Snapping his head to the side, he sneezed quickly and loudly. "ahhCHOO!"
"Blessings." Qui-Gon muttered and pushed back the hair that had tumbled over Obi-Wan's forehead. He smiled as he rested one hand at the base of Obi-Wan's head. "Yes, just like breathing."
Qui-Gon smiled sadly then let his hand drop from Obi-Wan's neck. He continued to bathe Obi-Wan, pausing as Obi-Wan sniffled and swallowed loudly, his nose running. Obi-Wan rubbed his nose into the base of his wrist as soon as his arms were rinsed off, pushing back the need to sneeze again. He plunged both hands back into the water and slumped his shoulders. Qui-Gon had started to wash his hair, long fingers massaging his scalp.
A pitcher of warm, clean water rinsed the soap from his hair after Qui-Gon quickly washed it. He then smoothed the near shoulder length hair back and let Obi-Wan lay down against the bathtub once more.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and sighed. The still hot water flowed over his shoulders and chest, warming skin that had cooled, if only slightly, in the air. A tingling made his nose twitch, the sneezey feeling returning. He rubbed his index finger under his nostrils and furrowed his brow. Head turned away from Qui-Gon, he stifled the sneezes into his shoulder.
"Ehmmp!Chshh! Schhush! Tishoo!" Obi-Wan sniffled. He lifted his head and sniffled again, swallowed and blinked his eyes open. The sneezes weren't quite gone, but he couldn't bear to stifle any more or only half sneeze out the feeling. It was either hold them back or spray Qui-Gon.
Thinking he could suppress the need to sneeze, he opened his eyes and started to sit up. Pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers, he pushed back the tickles that chased up and down his nose and danced at the edge of his nostrils.
"Don't hold it back," Qui-Gon chuckled and slid one arm behind his neck, the other hand holding a handkerchief to his nose, "sneeze, you'll feel better."
Still resisting, Obi-Wan made a helpless noise, thankfully muffled by the handkerchief. For a second, the sneezes felt too strong to come out; the sensation faded slightly and developed into the ticklish urge to sneeze only when he inhaled.
"ehhUshhahhh!! Huh, Hushhhoo!! Ahhnishhhoo! Kishhah, Chshhishh!" Tickle still lingering, Obi-Wan raised his hands to take the handkerchief from his lover. Hearing the water drip from his fingertips, he shook his head in frustration. The sneezes came upon him again, too suddenly for him to protest against Qui-Gon's attentions. "Ishhh!! Uhhshhoo! Hffshh!! ahh, ahh! Huhh! Schooohh!!"
"Bless you, Pet." Qui-Gon whispered, wiping Obi-Wan's nose slowly after he finished blowing. He kissed away the crease between his eyebrows and then pressed his lips to Obi-Wan's. "My dearest Obi-Wan, how did you catch cold like this?"
He moved his mouth over the curve of Obi-Wan's lower lip, kissing quickly. He then eased Obi-Wan back down and slid his arm out from behind him. The back of Qui-Gon's hand brushed over his cheek. Obi-Wan lifted one eyebrow in question and yawned deeply when Qui-Gon turned away. Through half open eyes he watched Qui-Gon carefully lather his face and slid the cool blade of a razor over his skin. Tipping his head back, Qui-Gon gave him a quick and close shave.
"You're too good to me." Obi-Wan mumbled and stroked Qui-Gon's hand before it dipped the wash cloth in the water.
"I missed you my Obi-Wan, I'm just glad you're home." Firmly, gently, Qui-Gon had washed both the cold and dirt of his journey off Obi-Wan's body. Pausing, he carefully rinsed soapsuds off Obi-Wan's face and touched the tip of his nose with his smallest finger. "Even if you come home sneezing and aching."
"You mean even if I come home whinging and cranky." Obi-Wan lifted his head off the edge of the bathtub and affectionately rubbed his nose against Qui-Gon's hand. As Qui-Gon cupped one cheek in his hand and rubbed a thumb over his chin, Obi-Wan sniffled and crinkled his nose at the tickles.
"I love you, Pet. I would rather have you home cranky than not home. Now, up and out of the tub before you start sneezing again."
Leaning all his weight on his right leg and clutching Qui-Gon's shoulder, Obi-Wan rose from the bath. His knee protested when Qui-Gon stepped away, but before he could stumble, strong arms and a dry towel surrounded his body from behind. Caught up in a bout of the sniffles, Obi-Wan rubbed his nose into the towel that covered his shoulder. Qui-Gon held him tightly with one arm, drying him off hastily with the other. He had to stand on his own for only a few moments, only to be held once again, his head resting against Qui-Gon's chest. He slid his arms around his lover's waist, Qui-Gon's warm skin under his own clean, slightly damp skin. Qui-Gon's hands drifted slowly down his back, settled at his hips, and drew him in close.
"You have such beautiful hair," Qui-Gon sighed and breathed into the almost dry strands, tickling Obi-Wan's scalp with his words, "it's a shame I had to wait thirteen years to see it."
Nuzzling the lightly furred skin before him, Obi-Wan simply yawned in agreement. His knee stopped hurting as he leaned against Qui-Gon, the soft heat of their bodies keeping the shivers away. A stretch eased some of the tight ache in his shoulders. The worn material of Qui-Gon's trousers brushed his thighs and he moved one foot forward, Qui-Gon's toes touching his instep.
If one could feel perfect, despite illness and injury, then Obi-Wan felt beyond perfect at that moment. Safe, cherished, protected, loved all feelings that he was willing to deny as a Jedi, but was given as Qui-Gon's lover, deserved or not, ill or not. Sore throat, stuffed and itchy nose, sneezing, coughing, headache, and any other multitude of symptoms could he dump in Qui-Gon's lap and expect nothing less than a warm embrace and a large amount of healing love.
Naked, snuggled next to Qui-Gon, he yawned again. And again. Shaking his head, Obi-Wan pulled away enough to raise his eyes to Qui-Gon. Half surprised, he felt his nostrils start to flare as a tingle built with out any warning.
"Ehh, Kishhoo! Shoo! Ehh, chiiih-ihChff!!" Half-held in, half-muffled into Qui-Gon's chest, the sneezes still managed to tumble out. "Chishhoo! Ahshhphhoo! Ehhtishhah, hiyesshh! ehshoo! shoo! ahh, huhshhh!!"
"Bless you." Qui-Gon murmured. He stooped down, one hand on Obi-Wan's hip, and picked up his discarded tunic. "Enough, you're getting cold, Pet." He slipped the garment onto Obi-Wan. "I'd offer to carry you, Obi, but I fear my therapist would become even more annoyed at me."
Obi-Wan rubbed his nose into the sleeve of the tunic then lifted a dryer corner to Qui-Gon's chest. Delicately, he mopped up the dampness his sneezes had caused. He stopped, stroked the pale scar on his lover's chest and pressed his palm over the mark. That had to be the visible reminder of his lover's battle with the Sith on Naboo. Maybe it was a haze of sickness and pain that clouded his mind, but the memory seemed so far away, so dim, although it couldn't have been that long ago. But Qui-Gon was here, close to him, and he could feel that with all his senses. Force, his Qui-Gon was too good to him.
He did not deserve to be walked so slowly and patiently into their bedchamber, to be settled onto comfortable pillows and blankets with such ease, to have his hair combed so neatly and willingly by Qui-Gon. He watched Qui-Gon slip silently into bed after a short trip to the common area and place a mug on the bedside table. Gods, all he ever wanted was this, to be with Qui-Gon, blankets and body-heat creating a small nest of warmth. With a stuffy sounding sniffle, he settled against Qui-Gon's chest. If only he give the same protection to Qui-Gon, instead of taking it, and give it to him all the time.
"Were you all right while I was on Kath'Ar, Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan asked, taking the cup of cold remedy that Qui-Gon offered him.
The back of his throat burned and the trace of congestion he felt earlier developed into a stuffy nose. The hot drink melted some of soreness in his throat and the congestion in his nasal passages enough to create a light tingling. Snuffling, he held a handkerchief to his nose and mouth with one hand.
"Ehhh, uhhChishhh!! Chuushhoo!! Ahh, hehChoo!" Bending at the waist, the sneezes forced him to sit up and take wavering breaths. "ehhh, huhh, ahhh!! HuhhuhShhahh!! Eshhuff!! Ishhhoo!! Ihh, Tshoo!!"
"Blessings, oh, bless you, Obi-Wan," sliding an arm around him and rubbing Obi-Wan's chest, Qui-Gon crooned, "my poor baby, sneezing so much."
"ehh, EhTishhah! Huh, Tishoo! EhhISHHOO!" Obi-Wan took a helpless, hesitating breath, tiredly letting it out as the rest of the sneezes eluded him. He lowered the handkerchief and looked at Qui-Gon in a way that he knew was pitiful, his nose all sniffly and eyes sticky.
One finger pushed his hair from his face, then slipped down to his cheek and stroked softly. Qui-Gon nuzzled his ear gently. "Poor little baby."
"But, b-but you, uhh, ohh, EahhShhh!! Ahhtishh, Kischoo!! Chishhmmph!" Pulled back against Qui-Gon as the last sneezes shook his frame, Obi-Wan realized he had been led into a more reclining than sitting position. He snuggled against Qui-Gon, instinctively seeking comfort even as he sniffed and rubbed his nose.
After blowing his nose to rid his nose of the itch, Obi-Wan sniffled strongly and then swallowed. Head on Qui-Gon's chest, he mumbled tired words, lips on the skin of his lover. "But you took care of yourself? You're all right?"
"All right? Of course, Obi-Wan, except," moving his hand down Obi-Wan's left leg, Qui-Gon cupped a palm over the injured knee and spread his fingers down towards the calf, "that I missed you."
"I always miss you, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon intoned. "Always."
Warmth spread from Qui-Gon's fingertips to the hurt knee, taking away the pain and strain of the injury. The same warmth, as subtle and reassuring as the Force itself, caressed his eyelids and aching back and soothed Obi-Wan into slumber.
"Now, sleep, Pet, I'll take care of you." The warmth smelled and tasted of Qui-Gon as arms cradled him and a tongue slipped into his mouth for one slow, loving kiss.
And Obi-Wan slept.
Rain splashed down outside when Obi-Wan awoke. Drifting out of sleep, he listened to the soft patter of rain and the whistling of the wind before opening his eyes. What had happened last night? The walk from the Kath'Ar Embassy seemed to have happened years ago, the memory clouded and hazy. Illness and pain filtered through the fog in his mind, as did the evanescent feeling of security and care. Knuckling his eyes, he lifted his head from the pillow and started to sneeze violently.
"ahh, hushhShooo!! Ehkkishhoo! Ahh, huhh!! CHOOO!! Ehhishhhaahh!!" A new sort of fog clouded his head, the heaviness of congestion forcing his head back down onto the pillows. Obi-Wan looked about the room dizzily, rubbing his nose in the palm of his hand. In the soft, grey light of the rainy afternoon, the room felt empty and different. The other side of the bed was empty. With a sad sigh, Obi-Wan shut his eyes.
"Oh, thank the Force you're finally awake." A soft voice murmured in his ear as slim fingers slid the hair off his forehead and then rested there. "You slept the whole way home from Kath'Ar, and then the fever came upon you. I was scared you wouldn't come back to me, Master, I was so scared you wouldn't make it home."
Obi-Wan looked up. His padawan had the same calm, blue eyes as Qui-Gon had. The same trace of worry flickering behind the smile. But home, home was with Qui-Gon, even after ten years without his love. Why had the Force let him think he had come home again?
"Your fever is down, Master." Anakin removed his hand from Obi-Wan's forehead and soothingly stroked his cheek. He frowned with hurt and confusion when his master twisted away from the touch. "What? What's wrong?"
"I dreamt I was young again." Obi-Wan whispered in a thick voice.
"You're far from old, Obi-Wan," Anakin replied, wiping his eyes and face with a warm, wet cloth. He sat down next to Obi-Wan and touched his arm, a few tissues in his hand.
Struggling to sit up, Obi-Wan gingerly pressed the tissues to his nose and waited. Another bout of sneezes was building up, the tickle deep in his nose, beyond the fuzzy, congested feeling.
"ehh, heh! Heh, huhhh!! ASHOOO!! EhhUShoo!! Ehhnn, IhhTishhih! Ishhhh!!" Congestion preventing him from blowing his nose, he wiped it in the tissues and leaned back against the pillows.
"Bless you, Master. I'll go to the healers later and get you something for your nose, that way you can rest without sneezing all the time." Anakin fussed with the blankets, picked up used tissues and patted Obi-Wan's leg. "How does your knee feel? Should I have the healer come here?"
"It doesn't hurt at all." He mused for a second, coughing into the sheets and blanket. A sob stuck in his chest, making his heart pound and throat constrict. "I dreamt I was young again, and he, he ..."
"Master Qui-Gon?" Anakin sat down, stretching long legs out next to Obi-Wan, putting an arm around his master. He handed over a cup as Obi-Wan coughed again. "Here drink this."
Obi-Wan sipped the cool liquid carefully. Surprise flooded through him as sweetness through his mouth. Spice tea. Gods, oh, gods. That long, sweet, last kiss tasted of spice and honey.
"Master? Are you sure you'll all right? I know it's cold, but that's all you'd take when you were feverish." The young man looked at him with worry greater than just before.
Oh, Force, why did he have to relive it all again? First in his dream, and now, the dream touches flashed through his mind. A touch that healed his knee, a kiss that sent him into sleep, and loving words that seemed so real. It all seemed so real.
"I'm fine, I just hate being sick." Obi-Wan handed the cup back to his padawan and closed his eyes slowly. And I miss him so much, Force, I miss him so much. The thought lingered in his mind, heavy and painful in his heart.
"I know, Master, I know."
There was enough understanding in his padawan's quiet words to comfort him, but somehow, not enough to make it feel like home.
The End
Golden Slumbers
Once, there was a way
To get back homeward.
Once, there was a way
To get back home.
Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby.Golden slumbers fill your eyes,
Smiles awake you when you rise;
Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby.Once, there was a way
To get back homeward.
Once, there was a way
To get back home.
Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby.-Lennon & McCartney
All belongs to George. A/N: Part one of this 'fic can be found on Nermal's page: http://geocities.com/nermal90