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SURVIVAL

by: Skye

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Part 4

In their haste to return Master Qui-Gon to Coruscant, young Anakin been left in the keeping of Queen Amidala on Naboo. The Senate representatives and guards had swarmed to the small planet with all haste, assuring that the situation was stable, and that Anakin was at least safe. Please was another matter altogether. The child's horror at finding out that Qui-Gon was wounded was nothing compared to finding out that the Jedi had run for home and left him behind. The child had been betrayed and abandoned from his point of view, and worse, Qui-Gon was dying far away from where he was. In short, he was inconsolable.

Political matters had dominated the government's day during the immediate post-invasion period, but once Padme' had seen the desolate 9-year-old, she immediately took matters into her own royal hands. Queen Amidala herself had managed to reach the Jedi on Coruscant, and had swiftly had her communication connected with Master Windu.

"Yes, we know of the boy. We are grateful to you, your Highness, for caring for him."

"He's no bother, Master, I assure you, but his distress over this situation is of such magnitude that I felt compelled to let you know. He is welcome here, of course, but he wishes to be there with Master Qui-Gon."

"As the ward of one of our Jedi, of course he is our responsibility and will be cared for."

"That was NOT my point," Amidala snapped. "He is concerned about Qui-Gon." Her face softened beneath its makeup, eyes filled with sadness, making her look suddenly very young and very vulnerable. "I am concerned for Master Qui-Gon, too. How is he?"

"He lives," Windu replied carefully. "We have hopes for his survival, but our healers can offer us no guarantees at this point."

Bowing her head, Amidala absorbed this news. "That is better news than it could have been," she replied finally. "At least there is hope." Abruptly, the face on the viewscreen made eye contact, gaze firm and unyielding. The Queen was back, and the Queen had a command to give. "Anakin needs to be with him. As you have stated that the Jedi will accept responsibility for him, I am sending my ship with him to Coruscant today."

"Thank you, Queen Amidala."

She nodded regally, then hesitated. "May I call again? To inquire after the condition of my protector?"

Windu smiled, surprised by her genuine, personal concern. This was not politics. She cared. "At any time, Queen Amidala. Contact me directly, please."

"Thank you." The screen went blank and Windu sat back, staring out of the windows of the tower. Qui-Gon had always had the ability to collect loyal followers wherever he went. This time he had surpassed himself. From this trip, he had a Gungan, a slave boy with staggering Jedi potential and a Queen. A collection as eclectic as the Master himself.

* * * * *

Anakin burst off the shuttle as though jet-propelled as soon as it touched the Jedi Temple's landing pad. He charged down the landing ramp and barreled directly into yet another pair of long legs, clad in Jedi Master black. The impact was a solid one, and Anakin bounced off, landing on his seat on the hot black surface of the pad.

"Anakin?" a deep voice asked as the tall figure leaned down to extend a hand. "Are you alright?"

"Master Windu?" It was a greeting, but it sounded like a question since he wasn't exactly sure he'd gotten the name right. The nod and slight smile confirmed that he had, giving the boy the confidence to accept the big hand politely, letting it pull him to his feet.

"Hi. I'm sorry I ran into you. I'm just really in a hurry--"

"I see that. Are you always in such a hurry?"

"No. I just want to see Master Qui-Gon. Is he okay?"

"Ah." The tall man put a hand on his shoulder, turning him toward the interior of the Temple. "That's not an easy question to answer, young Anakin."

Anakin reared back, staring up at the Jedi with wide, frightened eyes. "He's not dead, is he? Did he die?"

"No, no he's not dead, but he is far from well. You know he was hurt very badly, don't you?" Nod. "That is why Obi-Wan left Naboo in such haste, to bring him back to the healers here."

Another nod, eyes still wide and fearful. "They said the black 'n red guy got him. Stabbed him with a lightsaber."

"That is pretty much the truth. The damage is such that we cannot fix it all right away. We'll have to wait and see if Qui-Gon is strong enough to survive this.

"He's strong. He can do it," Anakin replied confidently, though the fear lingered in his eyes.

"Can I see him? Please?"

"He isn't awake, Anakin. He's badly hurt and cannot talk to you right now."

Please? Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease! The plea surrounded Windu, battering him with the child's frantic, Force-augmented projections.

"Yes. Yes, you can see him. Be quiet, Anakin. You're shouting with your mind. Take a deep breath. Think about the deep breath. Feel it filling your lungs, then let it out slowly."

The child struggled to comply and the chaos surrounding him diminished markedly. "Good. Very good. Now if you can stay calm just as you are right now, we'll go visit Master Qui-Gon."

The child nodded again, disorganized blond hair flying. To his credit, he did remain calm, with careful attention to this detail. They headed for the Temple, making their way through the long, quiet corridors with the child marching resolutely at his side. Windu noted several more deep, slow breaths along the way. The child was a very quick learner, he noted, and very attentive. Several more long corridors were traveled as the child struggled to keep control. But in spite of his brave efforts, Windu felt the child falter as they moved into the area of the medical unit. Something was upsetting him.

"What is it, Anakin?"

"I don't like this place. This place has lots of sadness in it."

"How do you know that?"

The small face tipped up so that eye contact could be made. "Because I can FEEL it," he replied, tone indicating that this had been an abnormally stupid question. "Sad things happened here."

An empath. The child had tremendous empathic skills. Talented, Windu noted as they reached their destination.

"You remember what I said about Master Qui-Gon, don't you?"

"Yes. He hurts and he can't talk."

"That's right. He looks very sick, so don't be surprised. No noise, no running."

The child was already staring into the unit. "Go," he urged, and the child headed toward the doorway at a run - for two strides. Then he dropped to a careful, obedient walk and headed within.

It was a sterile room, all white, with nothing in it that didn't look really important and unpleasant. The child took in his new surroundings with one quick glance that included a bed, and a man standing over it.

"Obi-Wan?" he called softly. The Jedi turned abruptly, startled by the high, youthful voice.

"Anakin." It wasn't a greeting, exactly, but Obi-Wan held out his hand, inviting the child over. The boy paced carefully across the room, mindful of instructions. Obi-Wan guided him close to the bed, tucking him under one arm.

"He's not well, Anakin, but I guess you know that."

"Master Windu told me."

"I'm sorry I left you behind. I didn't mean to. We were rushing to get here and I didn't know where you were. There was no time to find you , and I knew you'd be safe with Queen Amidala."

"It's okay.." The child had eyes and attention for nothing but the man lying still before them, lifeless save for the struggling, shallow breaths. "Qui-Gon?" he asked softly. "Can you here me? It's Anakin. From Tatooine."

"He cannot answer you, Ani."

"I know. But he can hear me," the child replied confidently, a smile creeping across his face.

"How do you know?"

"He said so. In my mind. I can hear him."

"What did he say?"

There was a pause, then a puzzled look crossed his face. "He says he's glad I'm here. And he says he's sorry, but I think he means that for you."

"For me? Sorry for what?"

"For failing. For leaving it up to you."

"Master, you haven't failed in anything!" Turning sharply back to the child, Obi-Wan bent to face him. "Can he hear me?"

"Yes. He just can't answer. It's too hard. Can't anyone else hear him?"

"No, he hasn't the strength now to use the Force that way.

"But I can hear him, though."

"What else does he say?" Obi-Wan asked softly.

"He says you should go."

Obi-Wan stiffened, then turned to his Master. "I am not leaving you," he hissed fiercely.

"He says you're a full Jedi Knight and you should go be a Jedi like the council told you to."

Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder toward the doorway where Master Windu stood, all but glaring at him. "He heard that."

"So it would seem"

"And I told the council then that I would not leave my Master, my teacher and my friend like this. Not now. A Jedi is also loyal to his Master and protects other of this order."

"Your loyalty does you credit, Obi-Wan. The council understands your desires and concurs."

"Then tell HIM that. I will not leave here."

Master Windu came over to join them. Both men wore such intense expressions that it was almost frightening.

"How do you know what he's saying, Anakin?" Master Windu asked softly.

"I don't know. I just know what I hear when I think about him. He's here in my head, kind of. I dunno," he shrugged. "But I can hear him when he talks in his head. And I can feel what he's feeling, too. I think."

"And what is that, Windu asked softly."

Anakin turned back to his guardian, lying still and lifeless next to him save for the ragged, pain-filled breaths. Then he reached out to place a small hand over Qui-Gon's. Instantly his small face screwed up in pain. "He hurts. Really, really bad. And he can't tell you, cause he can't make the words come out."

"No, speech is beyond him now. His lungs are failing."

"So is he going to die?" Anakin asked bravely, confronting the nightmare head on. "People can't live if they can't breath."

"No, they can't live without breathing. But we have an alternative," Windu soothed. "We are cloning his damaged organs. We're growing him new ones. Young, strong, undamaged ones. When we're finished, he'll be better than new."

"Really? Oh, that's wizard! Did you hear that, Master Qui-Gon?"

"Where does he hurt, young Skywalker?"

Anakin considered for a moment, then touched his chest just above where the burned channel would have been. "Here. It hurts really bad right here. And over to here," he added, tracing a finger across his ribs almost to his shoulder. It hurts when he breathes or when anybody touches it. And inside, When the air goes down."

One of the healers turned to Qui-Gon, and reached toward the indicated points of pain, touching the deepest injury with gently probing fingers.

Anakin screamed at the flair of pain through the link. "Ow! Ow, quit it! Don't touch it! It hurts!" Tears filled his eyes, spilling rapidly down his cheeks. "Owwww," he moaned. Obi-Wan bent, gathering the child close in his arms.

"But I must touch to examine," protested the healer. There should not be this level of pain. I must find if there is infection or if there are other problems there." Turning back to his patient, the healer probed with gentle fingers. Qui-Gon trembled under the touch, and one hand clenched on the blanket. He then went limp.

Anakin screamed and simultaneously slid bonelessly to the floor as his knees collapsed.

Obi-Wan lifted the child by his shoulders and shook him firmly. "Let go, Anakin. Let go of his mind. The pain will stop."

Blinking at him dazedly, Anakin dragged a sleeve across his eyes, blotting some of the tears away. "No, I gotta tell you this. That guy just makes everything hurt worse," Anakin replied heatedly, pointing at the healer bending over Qui-Gon. "Every time that one comes in here, he pokes and pokes at things and makes everything hurt lots worse. And Qui-Gon doesn't like being on his side like that. His hip hurts when he's on." Anakin twisted free of Obi-Wan's grasp, and turned experimentally this way and that. "-On his right side. His hip hurts when he has to lay on it. He hurt it really bad when he was fighting. That red guy kicked him. Didn't you see that bruise?"

"But he must remain on his side. We want no pressure on the wounds," protested a healer. "And he must be turned every hour."

"And that hurts, too," Anakin shouted back. "People keep grabbing him and flipping him over and jiggling everything inside like that and he feels like he could throw up it hurts so bad. And I'm telling you he doesn't like lying on his side all the time because it hurts. And his shoulder hurts where he hit it on the support beam and his head hurts ALL the time and you guys act like it just doesn't matter at all!" Fists clenched in fury, Anakin glared up at the doctors. "And he's cold all the time, too, and he hates it!"

"Anything else you can tell us, Anni?" Mace Windu bent down to Anakin's eye level, his expression encouraging and kind. Obi-Wan stepped aside, reaching into a cabinet for blankets.

He's really tired." Anakin shrugged, helpless to find the words to express the feeling. "He's tired inside. And he's really, really thirsty."

"Thirsty? I doubt it. He is not dehydrated," the healer replied, satisfied with this error and dismissing Anakin's observations completely.

"Did he tell you this?" Windu asked carefully.

"Not that part. Not in words, anyway. It's just, when I think about him, I feel thirsty. When I don't, I don't."

"Is there anything else he wants us to know?"

Anakin hesitated, then walked the few steps back to the bed, where Obi-Wan had tucked a second blanket around his teacher's shoulders and was settling a third blanket across his legs.

"He's so tall that no blanket has ever been long enough," Obi-Wan smiled sadly at Anakin. "He uses them diagonally, because the corners reach further that way. I think tonight he should have enough blankets to keep both ends warm." The blanket was tucked in around Qui-Gon's hips and thighs with gentle hands. "Thank you for telling me. I didn't know."

"Has he anything to say to us, Anakin? Anything he wants us to know?" Master Windu pursued.

Glancing up at Obi-wan for permission, Anakin reached out to rest one hand on the Jedi's knee. Shaking his head, the boy turned back to the Jedi Master. "No. He's not really thinking anymore. He just hurts."

"Can you tell him things for us? In his mind so he will hear them?"

"I guess so." The chin lifted bravely and the dark eyes met Windu's squarely. "I'll try."

"Tell him to be brave just a little longer. Things are improving. He will be well soon."

Anakin closed his eyes, lower lip poked out in concentration. The eyes flew open and filled with tears. Two fat teardrops escaped to slide down his cheeks.

"What did he say?"

"He said.'stop.'"

"Stop?" echoed both Master Windu and Obi-Wan.

"He wants it to stop. He wants everyone to just leave him alone and let go. He hurts and he's sick and he's tired and he's cold and everybody keeps poking at him and making it hurt worse and there's lots of strangers in his head and he hurts and he's cold and he's really, really sad. He's afraid he'll never be able to move anymore or breathe anymore or anything. And he's really thirsty!"

Mace Windu squatted down in front of the boy and smiled. Cradling Anakin's face between his large palms, he used his thumbs to wipe away the tears. "Thank you for telling us, Ani. I know this is very hard for you and we are grateful to you for what you're doing."

"S'okay," he muttered. "I just wish Qui-Gon would be okay."

"Could you tell him one more thing for me?"

"You guys can talk to him through the Force," he challenged defiantly. "He told me so. Why don't YOU tell him?"

"Because he won't listen to me. For some reason he can hear you and will listen to you."

"Oh."

"Tell him I expect him to teach me the reverse blind sweep technique he taught Obi-Wan. Soon."

"The what?"

Mace demonstrated a sweeping move around behind his back, swinging an imaginary lightsaber downward toward the floor at his heels. "It looks like that."

Anakin nodded, then closed his eyes again. They could see his hands twitch as he mentally illustrated the sweep. The eyes popped open wide with astonishment. "He says no. He says you tried to cut his foot off last time, and he can't spare any more body parts right now."

Mace actually burst out laughing. That sounded like the Qui-Gon he knew. Straightening, he moved to the bed. "Soon, Qui-Gon. Soon you can teach me, and I'll leave your ankles alone this time. That was twenty years ago, after all. One little mistake and no one ever forgets," he added ruefully to the assembled group.

"Let's all step out in the hallway so that we don't disturb him further"

The Jedi and healers slipped out the door to stand gathered in the corridor. Master Windu nodded to the collective group.

"Now, what can we do about addressing his grievances. The "strangers" can be removed if we gather only those he has associated with to aid with the Force. I would suggest that we limit the assistance to friends. It will be more difficult, as we will each have to do more, but if this will ease any distress for him, I am more than willing."

"Anyone would be willing, Master. I will speak to as least those he has worked with and see if they will assist us."

"Good. Now," he commented, turning to the healers, "what can we do to ameliorate his pain?"

"Unfortunately, nothing," replied the healer. "I do not want to use more chemicals. He may well become dependent upon them. And nothing I can give him will dull the pain of nerves and bone that have been burned and are regenerating unless I drug him into a coma, which is, of course, counterproductive to his breathing. Nerves and bones will scream when burned. There is nothing to stop that. It is a good sign, in a way. It shows healing."

"And yet it is killing him."

"I'm sorry, but we are doing all we can."

"What about his breathing?"

"The lungs are being clones. We are waiting for completion."

"But he grows weaker every day."

"There is damage to the lungs. The small blood vessels and air sacs are no longer able to absorb gasses." The doctor shrugged helplessly. "Were he an Avian species as are the residents of Bascum 4, we would simply feed oxygen into to the abdominal air sacs. Were he reptilian, he could absorb what he needs through his skin. But unfortunately, those such as yourself must rely on gas exchange through the thin membranes of the lungs and no other process. His have been seared. They are scarred. Some areas are dying. They can no longer allow the process to continue. And this scarring and dying is continuing. More tissue is converted from seared to scarred or breakdown every day. The blood vessels in this area were scorched and superheated as well. They have lost their elasticity and are hard and narrowed. Many are gone. Many more are dying. Therefore, there is less circulation of what little oxygen he does have. The situation is a grim one. The only hope to correct this is the transplant of the lungs and blood vessels. The blood vessels should be completed this afternoon, but lungs are much more complicated."

Anakin listened, trying to understand exactly what the healer was saying. It didn't matter. What the healer felt was that Qui-Gon was already dead and this was wasting his time. It certainly sounded bad.

Dispirited, Anakin moved away from the doorway and the group of adults, and scuffed back over to where his benefactor lay on the small bed. Obi-Wan stood next to him, staring silently down at him.

"Obi-Wan?" Anakin reached out to pat the younger Jedi on the arm. He whirled to glare at the child.

'What?"

"I didn't tell those people everything."

"Why not?"

Anakin looked away, then back at Qui-Gon. "I didn't think he'd like it. Some of it was kinda private. But I don't think he'd mind if I told you. Not too much, anyway. Maybe he won't get mad at me," Anakin shrugged.

Obi-Wan felt his eyebrows heading toward his hairline in shock. "What didn't you say," he asked as casually as he could.

"He's scared. He's really scared and he's lonely. He feels like he's crying inside."

"I know he hates feeling so helpless."

"He thinks its really dumb that everyone is spending so much time and energy hanging on to one old knight."

That hit home. Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed and he turned to glare down as his master. "You are not an old knight," hissed Obi-wan. You are not, master! You are wounded and you are tired and you are in pain, but you are not old, and we will not lose you!" Spinning back toward the child, Obi-wan crouched and took Anakin's shoulders in his hands, pulling him close. "What else did you hear?"

Blue eyes lifted to meet his in total honesty and innocence. "He loves you a lot. He wants to know if you're okay. Where you are."

"Doesn't he know I'm here?"

Anakin nodded. "Sure. When you talk to him or touch him or something. But sometimes you go away and he can't tell if you've come back, and he can't find you in a group of people like that. He doesn't know if you're there or if you left or or what."

"Anything else?"

"He wants a drink of water. And I.well, he didn't actually say it, but I think he really needs a hug."

Obi-wan sighed, pondering this. "I'm sure you're right. And he'll get his hugs. Why don't you start while I try to figure out how to give water to someone who can't swallow." Obi-Wan scooped Anakin up in his arms, and held him up at the edge of the bed so that he could at least clearly see the figure lying so still within. "Go ahead, Ani."

"Whoa, not me! Everything hurts so bad I don't wanna touch anything!"

"I think it's worth it."

Anakin nodded, then bent forward to put his head down on Qui-Gon's shoulder, arms sliding around in a gentle hug. "I love you, Qui-Gon," he whispered. "I'm sorry you hurt so bad, but I'm really glad you didn't die."

Obi-Wan straightened, setting the child on the floor. He then turned to busy himself in a supply cabinet. He returned with a cup and a clean square of material. Dipping the cloth into the water, he squeezed out most of the moisture and then gently wiped the pad across Qui-Gon's dry lips. Qui-Gon was serious in his complaint; the skin was dry and beginning to crack. Another dip of the cloth, another pass of the cloth across his lips, but this time a gentle squeeze let a precious drop of moisture slip free to roll across Qui-Gon's tongue. Obi-Wan carefully repeated this three times before he noticed the single tear that tracked its way along the bridge of Qui-Gon's nose.

"What, Qui-Gon? What is it," he whispered, fearful of having only made things worse. Obi-Wan reached inward hastily to try to track the emotions behind this, but the force only showed him weakness and helplessness.

"He says thank you." Anakin had his hand on Qui-Gon's ankle again and was listening, eyes squinched shut with the effort of hearing the faint thoughts clearly.

"More?"

Anakin nodded eagerly. "Oh, yes! Uh, please, he says."

"Forget the manners, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan smiled. "Anything I have, anything I can bring is yours, with my pleasure," he informed him as another precious droplet of moisture was delivered. "Now just don't inhale this or they'll throw me out."

"No! No, don't go!" Anakin cried suddenly. "Don't let them do that. Don't leave him alone with those guys-"

"Hush. Hush-hush," he soothed, dividing the warning between master and child. "We don't need the medics back in here wanting to know what's wrong." The conversation was definitely odd, answering his master whose uncharacteristic cries were delivered in the voice a little boy. But the distress was definitely sincere. Oddly, it was gratifying to be so wanted, to have him depend on him for a change, even as it was sad and strange.

"I won't leave," he whispered to Qui-Gon. "If you want me here, I won't move a step." Obi-Wan set down the cup and, with a surreptitious glance over his shoulder for critical medical personnel, he slipped one arm under Qui-Gon's head. Bending close, he wrapping his guardian and mentor in a careful, modified hug, letting the warmth, the love, the sheer gratitude that he stayed, remaining in this awful fight flow through the bond. Gently he returned his master to the pillow, then wiped away first Qui-Gon's tears, then his own.

Turning back to his mini-oracle, he raised his eyebrows questioningly. "I know how he feels now, but what are you hearing?"

"I think he feels a little braver, now. There were too many strangers in his head, and he felt kinda.naked. You know," he shrugged. "Too many people staring and touching and all. I don't think he's used to being so.."

"Helpless?" Obi-Wan finished. "He's always been the strong one and so private. It's hard to lose privacy that way, I know. But it's not forever, Master. Just a few days more. Only a little longer."

Encouraged, Obi-wan offered more of the cool liquid, delivering several droplets at once this time and was actually rewarded with a swallow.

"There, you see? That's terrific."

"Tired now. Really, really tired," Anakin warned him abruptly. The child's eyes were wide with alarm. "He's getting hard to hear."

Obi-wan let the cup fall forgotten to the floor, instantly setting his hands on his Master's cheek and chest, snatching energy from the Force and pouring it into his Master. "It will be alright, Master. It will be alright," he whispered, repeating it like a mantra, serving as a conduit for reassurance as well as strength.

Two of the medical team and Yoda watched silently from the doorway. Yoda nodded in satisfaction, then turned to leave, managing to set his cane on the toe of one of the doctors as he passed. Anakin smiled at the satisfaction flowing from Yoda that accompanied the doctor's grimace as he pushed himself forward against the cane, carefully mashing that toe.

Yoda didn't like them either.

~TBC~