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Survival

By: Skye

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Note:So here is another installment of a story long forgotten, save by one kind reader. My thanks to her for her encouragement, and to Raven, who helped with her usual brilliant flare for new scenes and fine words.

Chapter 5

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And so those who stayed with Qui-Gon settled into a small circle of intimates: Obi-Wan, Mace Windu, Yoda, Piccu, and another friend who came in from the field, Zeres. Another female Jedi returned to the Temple, joining their efforts with silent, intent concern and broadcasting interesting thoughts and memories about Qui-Gon, according to receptive little Anakin. Ani blushed when asked about the particulars; he hesitated badly, then finally settled on calling them "really friendly." Obi-Wan had never met this particular Jedi before, and had serious difficulty in trying to imagine her and his master in amorous pursuits - tall, quiet, reserved Qui-Gon and this small, slender woman who was emotionally-focused and very, very female did not seem to be a compatible pairing. It mattered little, however; she cared about Qui-Gon and was there to help him -- that was all that was important. Anakin slipped in from time to time, hovering under elbows in high anxiety until Obi-Wan cleared a path to allow him to touch and communicate with his dying teacher.

And Qui-Gon was dying. The lungs continued to fail in spite of their best efforts. His circulation was also failing; the blood did not flow smoothly through the body as it did before so many major blood vessels were "compromised" as the healers called it, before they were fried into sizzling nonexistence by the glowing intrusion. Others, superheated by the torturous second the lightsaber has remained within Qui-Gon's body, had become superheated themselves. Had, Obi-Won shuddered to remember, cooked within his master's chest. Clotted. Were now disintegrating. Poor Qui-Gon had burns, no lungs and little blood moving about. Small wonder he could not move or speak. He was doing all that he could to keep the body functioning even minimally on the minute oxygen he was managing to draw into his cells.

And now infection joined the roster of difficulties. Qui-Gon ceased to complain of cold. His body temperature risen toward normal, and then , ominously, surpassed it. The healers had cleared away what ruined tissue they could, but they could only manage so much, and the dying bits were sloughing away inside him constantly. There was little that could be done until he healed inside. And there would be no healing until he had lungs to breath with and strength to fight.

Stalemate. And time was tipping events not in their favor.

"When are his lungs going to be ready?" Anakin asked softly, for what had to be the thousandth time. "And what about the heart?"

"They think his heart is healing, now that they've replaced some of the arteries. The lungs will be ready soon, they say," was Obi-Wan's reply, as always. "Perhaps tomorrow."

Anakin stared up at him, expression neutral, but Obi-Wan could feel the reply hovering just beneath the surface. It was the same one that he had. "I know, that is what they said yesterday. But perhaps today, then."

"If they don't hurry, they might as well not bother," Anakin sulked.

Obi-Wan watched the small apprentice scuff his way out of the chamber which was feeling more and more a chamber of death. Though he tried to banish the thoughts Anakin expressed, Obi-Wan secretly harbored the same fears.

Three days of round the clock support had passed, but the internal damage continued to become more evident. It was now a race between failing organs and the growing of cloned ones. Mechanical assistance now supplemented the borrowed energy of the force for breathing, forcing air into lungs as responsive as rocks. Qui-Gon's great achievement now was limited the ability to occasionally open his eyes. The body had grown so weak that very few systems were functioning. Sometimes, when the Force was strong around him, he could actually listen to people talking to him. His ruined lungs wouldn't allow him to answer, but when Anakin was there, it was easier. Somehow the child could hear his faint thoughts when he was too weak to do more than remember that the Force had a name. Actually gathering enough strength to project thoughts through the Force was now hopeless, as fanciful a notion as flying away from this misery. The child could at least hear him, and speak on his behalf. It was a small mercy, at least, to have some means of communication occasionally. A very small mercy to try to balance so much misery.

Someone was with him constantly, with gentle hands gathering the Force energy to supply what his body needed to continue in its pathetic efforts at life. The hands changed every hour or two, but Obi-wan was always present regardless of who else might have come to assist him. Obi-wan was simply there, trying to remain in physical contact as much as possible. A hand, a touch, the constant thoughts and supportive emotions were there.

It was night. The world was silent. Even Obi-Wan was quiet as he slept, his compact frame curled awkwardly in a chair across the room. Only Piccu remained with him, still trickling energy into him.

As though it will make any difference, Qui-Gon sighed inwardly. Obi-Wan, why don't you go sleep in your own bed tonight? There is no need to hover over the dying like this. It won't make the parting any easier.

Dear padawan.it's time you moved on with your life. You're a Jedi Knight now. You should be working as such, not acting as nursemaid to your old teacher. And I fear that tomorrow will end this farce. I hope it does. It is time to let go. You'll be on your way, then. It's for the best, Obi-Wan. I wish I could tell you how proud I am of you. How much I've enjoyed having you with me. How much I love you. But I can't. I can't do anything anymore except lie here and rot. Oh, I know what is happening. I can feel it. Let the travesty end tomorrow. Let me die, and go back to the Force..

* * * * *

"Today, Qui-Gon! It's to be today!" Obi-Wan was fairly dancing with excitement. Qui-Gon could feel it at the edges of consciousness, but Obi-Wan was so far away, so hard to hear. The pain was great and the body heavy and the darkness close. It was too much effort to worry about what had excited his apprentice so. He had always been excited about something as a boy. Something trivial, something new only to him.

Hands. Obi-Wan's hands touching him. The touch was stronger, less sympathetic today. This was not a touch for the dying. The thought perplexed Qui-Gon, and he tried to crawl from the oxygen-depleted haze in which he now dwelt.

A bright presence burst in on his mind, young, golden, sparkling with newness. Anakin's delight was exuberant enough to attract his attention and his "voice" through the Force loud enough to be easily heard, even with the world so dim and remote. The boy certainly would not be ignored.

They've got your lungs ready, Qui-Gon! They're gonna fix you up today! Right now! Master Windu said that you're gonna be even BETTER than new in just a little while! Won't that be great!

Really? Qui-Gon considered this as darkness descended, offering welcome release from the pain.

* * * *

Hands tightened around his wrist, on his shoulder. Obi-Wan, anxious and excited, he noted absently. There was something more pressing for his mind to demand, for his body was demanding that he breathe.

Breathe! The steady flow of oxygen had been removed and the demand for more became overwhelming. In spite of the pain, the lungs expanded, and for the first time in a week, drew precious air down into his body. Again, demanded the body. And again!

He was panting. The oxygen returned, making each breath richer, deeper. Slowly the haze cleared. Bits of awareness returned. The first was the aura of Obi-Wan at his shoulder. Sounds returned as the blackness receded. feelings, sensations. The Force was with him again, ready to be bidden to his use. The air hunger diminished and slowly the headache that had thundered through his days eased just a bit.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, directly into Obi-Wan's anxious gaze.

Master?"

Qui-Gon smiled weakly, watching Obi-Wan's hesitant smile burst into a radiant grin.

"Obi-" The voice was harsh from lack of energy and lack of use. It sounded like a damaged droid voice synthesizer. "Obi-Wan," he managed to rasp.

His apprentice pulled back, bending to look into his master's eyes. "How is it? How do you feel? Is it better now?"

He nodded numbly, then gathered strength for another effort. "Much better," he croaked. Sagging back onto the bed, Qui-Gon lay still, savoring the feeling of being able to pull air into his lungs, to have oxygen of his own acquisition filling his bloodstream. The oxygen starvation headache was fading. His vision was better, brighter.not down a dark tunnel. The roaring in his ears was fading. And the sensation of suffocation was departing. He actually felt like he might live.

"That is fantastic," Obi-Wan smiled, watching with delight as his master's face slowly changed from waxy blue-white to a more healthy color.

After thirty minutes of meditation on breathing, Qui-Gon finally opened his eyes. The world looked almost right, including the ear-to-ear grin on Obi-Wan's face. Mace Windu shared a lesser version of that grin, but it was there nonetheless.

Windu nodded to Qui-Gon. "Welcome back."

Tired, he realized suddenly. Tired and in pain, but it was bearable now.

"There is still more work to be done, but I think it will be minor compared to what has been accomplished so far," the healer at his elbow informed him.

It took a moment to gather both energy and courage to try speech again, but after a few preparatory deep, wonderful breaths, he managed his first sentence. "How much longer.." [Breathe] "Will it take."

"Windu stared at him in amused astonishment. "He's awake for three minutes and already he's impatient to leave."

"He will not be leaving our care soon," interrupted the healer. "There is still more work to do. More blood vessels need to be replaced yet. The infection needs to be cleared. There is much healing to be done yet."

Qui-Gon blinked, then slowly turned his attention to the healer at the foot of his bed. "When I can," [breathe] "complete a sentence" [breathe] "in one breath," [breathe] "You and I are going to talk." The words offered no threat. The tone was mild, and it was hard to feel threatened by a man who spoke in broken, gasping sentences, but the undercurrent carried great displeasure and something bordering on.hostility? Obi-Wan added silent agreement to the vibrations, and the healer glanced anxiously from Qui-Gon to Obi-Wan and back.

"We have been providing the best care we are capable of giving, Master Qui-Gon. I will be glad to dis-discuss any matters relating to your.care," he managed before turning abruptly and heading through the doorway. Master Windu and Obi-Wan smiled in satisfaction at his changed demeanor and hasty departure.

"We've been trying to do that all week," Windu observed mildly. Obi-Wan wasn't certain whether he meant the discussion or the departure, but it wasn't important. Having the healer depart was enough.

"Can I see him? Oh, please? Please, I just gotta talk to him," begged a young voice from the corridor. Obi-Wan and Master Windu said I could come see him."

"Go," growled the already intimidated healer. The sound of his footsteps retreated down the corridor as Anakin burst through the doorway. He skidded to a halt, surprised at finding so many standing in the room.

Glancing from face to face, Anakin struggled to judge the situation. "He's okay, isn't he?"

"I'm fine," Qui-Gon whispered from the bed. He held out one hand in invitation to Anakin, who all but flew across the floor to launch himself into Qui-Gon's arm and chest.

The impact of the eager little body was solid, and the thud and subsequent wince brought a gasp from everyone there, but Qui-Gon bit down on the pain, trying to shield it away from everyone, especially his young apprentice.

"I wa so scwrred. I ws fwaid oo gn die," came the confession from the boy who's face was buried against Qui-Gon's chest.

"But I didn't," Qui-Gon soothed. "Ani?" He waited until the snub nose was no longer pressed between aching ribs and the gaze lifted to meet his eyes. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"What you did to. help me . was very special. I am.grateful."

The boy's pleased smile was all the answer he needed. Obi-Wan moved into view, placing a hand gently on Qui-Gon's shoulder. The same loving, supportive emotions flowed from Obi-Wan as they had for the past week, but now Qui-Gon was able to answer, to offer without words his gratitude, his feelings, his love. The Force allowed communication to be so much purer. And very private.

Time to sleep, my Master, Obi-Wan's voice whispered in his mind. The healer in the corridor is having tremendous anxieties over the state of your health, but he's too afraid now to come back in. The words were overlaid with high amusement and the bright sparkle of laughter. I promised I would insist that you rest, though I don't think that will be a problem.

No, Qui-Gon sighed inwardly. Will I ever cease being so tired?

Give it half a morning, Master. You still have much healing to do, and to heal, you must rest. Now sleep, please. The mind voice ended in a note of gentle concern and affection.

Nodding, Qui-Gon dropped his head back into the pillow, suddenly realizing just how tired he really was. He felt Anakin being pried away from his very sore chest, with soft words of assurance murmured to guarantee his cooperation.

Qui-Gon lay still, savoring the wonder of being able to pull air into his lungs, of the blessing of security from suffocation. I will never take another breath for granted, he noted in weary contentment. And as his weary body surrendered to sleep, he felt the familiar touch of Obi-Wan, soothing the pain and offering energy to bolster the nonexistent resources. The last he remembered, in addition to the glorious luxury of breathing, was a blanket being gently tucked around his shoulders.

* * *

Obi-Wan had been chased out of the medical unit for the first time since their arrival on Coruscant a week ago. Tonight, it was insisted, Master Qui-Gon was stable enough to allow his former apprentice to sleep in his own bed. With the banishment backed up by his master, along with assurances that he would be called should his master want him for any whim, Obi-Wan reluctantly departed, only partially reassured that Qui-Gon would be there when he came back.

In spite of his overwhelming weariness, Obi-Wan awakened with a start shortly after falling asleep. The bed seemed wrong, the distance from Qui-Gon far worse. Hastily shrugging into his robes, he headed back down to the medical units.

The lights were dimmed there, indicating no emergency was taking place. They were encouraging their patient to rest and regain strength, returning to a more natural rhythm of day and night, Obi-Wan noted with a sigh of relief.

Creeping carefully so as not to disturb, Obi-Wan moved to the side of the bed. His master was sleeping quietly, and in his usual way, he noted with relief. Gone was the limp, easily-positioned critically ill appearance. Now Qui-gon lay curled comfortably curled on his side, the blanket cattycorner across his long frame as usual with the corner by his ear grasped in one large hand. The scene was calm and reassuring; by far the most normal life had seemed since they left for Naboo an eternity ago. The only surprise in the scene was a bulge beneath the blanket that indicated that Qui-Gon wasn't alone in the bed. Lifting the corner of the blanket carefully so as not to disturb his master's new-found peace, Obi-Wan bent to peek underneath it. Gon. Curled into a tight ball, back pressed against his master's chest was a small, very tired little boy, sleeping curled in the security of Qui-Gon's arm, which lay draped across narrow shoulders.

Obi-Wan wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep away from Master Qui-Gon tonight. Evidently someone else had snuck down here in between the medical checks throughout the night, concealing himself beneath that blanket. He smiled at that, then returned to the familiar security of his uncomfortable chair in the corner, swiftly falling deeply asleep in the reassuring presence of his master and in the peace of the nightmare ended.