(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)
The first forty-eight hours were the worst of Obi-Wan’s life.
Worse than every battle he had ever survived.
Because at least on the battlefield, he could do something.
Here, all he could do was watch you lie motionless beneath harsh white lights while machines tracked your heartbeat in slow, steady rhythms that never sounded reassuring enough.
The healers had stabilized you shortly after surgery.
That was the word they kept using.
As though stable meant safe.
As though stable meant you would wake up.
Obi-Wan sat beside your bed in complete silence, elbows resting on his knees and hands clasped tightly enough to ache. He barely moved except to stand whenever the healers needed access to you.
Otherwise, he remained there.
He watched every shallow breath.
Every flicker of movement.
Every change in the monitors.
The Council noticed quickly.
Master Yoda visited once on the second day. He said nothing about the obvious attachment radiating from Obi-Wan like an open wound.
But the look in his ancient eyes lingered too long.
Obi-Wan understood exactly what it meant.
Normally, guilt would have followed immediately.
He could not bring himself to care.
Not when you still hadn’t opened your eyes.
By the third night, Obi-Wan looked terrible.
His robes were wrinkled from sleeping upright in the chair beside your bed — though sleeping was generous considering he only drifted off for minutes at a time before jerking awake again.
His beard had grown unevenly rough.
Dark circles hollowed beneath his eyes.
Still, he refused to leave.
Anakin finally snapped about it sometime around two in the morning.
“You’re going to collapse.”
Obi-Wan didn’t even look away from you. “I’m fine.”
Anakin stared at him in disbelief. “You passed out sitting upright yesterday.”
“You slid onto the floor.”
Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly but said nothing.
The med bay was dim and quiet around them, most of the lights lowered for the night cycle. The steady beeping of monitors filled the silence.
Anakin looked between you and Obi-Wan and visibly softened despite himself.
It was honestly painful to witness now.
Obi-Wan barely let the healers touch you without hovering anxiously nearby.
Every time your condition shifted even slightly, panic flashed nakedly across his face before he buried it again.
He looked terrified all the time.
“You need rest,” Anakin said more gently.
Obi-Wan finally looked at him then, eyes red-rimmed with fatigue.
“And if she wakes up while I’m gone?”
Anakin’s expression faltered.
Afraid you would wake up alone.
Afraid you would think no one came for you.
Afraid you would open your eyes and he would miss it.
“You’re no good to her like this,” Anakin said quietly.
Something pained flickered across Obi-Wan’s face.
But he still shook his head.
Anakin exhaled sharply through his nose before turning and disappearing from the room without another word.
He was looking at you again.
His hand hovered briefly near yours before pulling back.
The irony would have been laughable if it didn’t hurt so badly.
Obi-Wan leaned back in the chair, exhaustion dragging at him viciously now.
The healers kept assuring him recovery was possible, but every time he looked at the scars disappearing beneath your bandages, guilt clawed deeper into his chest.
He should have stopped this.
Should have spoken to you sooner.
Should have fixed things before the two of you became strangers orbiting each other in misery.
His chest tightened painfully.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered before he could stop himself.
The words vanished into the quiet room.
A few minutes later, the doors slid open again.
Anakin reappeared dragging a small cot behind him.
“If you won’t leave, fine.” Anakin shoved the cot against the wall beside the chair. “But you’re sleeping.”
Obi-Wan sighed tiredly. “Anakin—”
“No. I’m serious.” He crossed his arms stubbornly. “You look half dead.”
“I’m perfectly capable of—”
“You nearly Force-threw a medical droid because it adjusted her IV too quickly.”
Obi-Wan looked mildly offended. “That was an overreaction on the droid’s part.”
Anakin stared at him flatly.
Then, quieter now, he said, “She’d kill me if I let you work yourself into a grave beside her bed.”
Something fragile crossed Obi-Wan’s expression at that.
You’d scold him endlessly for this.
The thought hurt enough to make his throat tighten.
Slowly, reluctantly, Obi-Wan nodded once.
Anakin looked absurdly relieved.
“Good.” He pointed at the cot aggressively. “Sleep. That’s an order.”
Obi-Wan almost smiled despite everything.
You remained unconscious for another two days.
And Obi-Wan remained beside you through all of it.
Until the Council assigned him a mission.
The moment he received the summons, dread settled heavily into his stomach.
“No,” he said immediately.
Master Windu’s expression hardened slightly through the hologram. “This mission requires your experience.”
“She still hasn’t awakened.”
Obi-Wan’s jaw tightened hard enough to hurt.
Every instinct screamed at him not to leave you.
But the war did not stop.
“You may visit before departure,” Windu said more quietly. “Your transport leaves in one hour.”
Obi-Wan sat motionless for several long seconds afterward.
Still breathing softly beneath the blankets.
The helplessness nearly destroyed him.
When he finally stood beside your bed preparing to leave, he felt sick.
Anakin lingered awkwardly near the doorway pretending not to watch.
Obi-Wan reached toward you slowly before finally taking your hand carefully in his.
For a moment, he simply stood there staring at you.
His composure was hanging by threads.
“You always did have terrible timing,” he whispered hoarsely.
Then, quietly enough that only you could have heard if awake:
“Please come back to me.”
Anakin looked away immediately.
A minute later, Obi-Wan let go of your hand and walked out of the med bay like it physically hurt him to do it.
You woke up to unfamiliar silence.
Even breathing felt difficult.
You frowned weakly, blinking against the bright med bay lights until the blurry shape beside your bed suddenly jerked upright.
Relief flashed across his face so quickly it startled you.
“Hey,” he said immediately, leaning forward. “Easy. Don’t try to move.”
Your throat burned. “...What happened?”
“You almost died,” he said bluntly.
You shut your eyes briefly.
Memories returned in fractured pieces.
Your eyes widened faintly.
Your gaze shifted weakly around the room instinctively before you could stop yourself.
Anakin noticed immediately.
Something knowing crossed his face.
Your chest tightened painfully.
“Obi-Wan.” Anakin leaned back slightly in the chair. “He’s been losing his mind.”
You stared at him silently.
Anakin snorted softly. “Seriously. It’s been pathetic.”
Despite yourself, your throat tightened harder.
“He came to your quarters before your mission,” Anakin continued. “Wanted to talk to you, I think. But you were already gone.”
You looked down weakly at the blanket covering you.
Something fragile cracked open in your chest.
“He got the report while you were in surgery.” Anakin’s voice softened now. “I’ve never seen him look like that before.”
“He barely left this room.” Anakin gestured around the med bay. “Wouldn’t sleep. Wouldn’t eat properly. Nearly terrified the healers to death.”
A weak breath escaped you that almost sounded like a laugh.
Your eyes burned suddenly.
“He only left because the Council forced him onto a mission.”
Silence settled softly between you.
Then Anakin sighed and shook his head.
“You two are idiots, by the way.”
That actually made you laugh weakly this time.
Immediately regretting it when pain shot through your ribs.
Anakin winced sympathetically. “Yeah, don’t do that.”
But your mind was already somewhere else entirely.
The thought repeated over and over inside your chest.
