Title: ABH: Forced Idleness
Author: Darth Diebin <[email protected]>
Rating: Smut
Archive: All lists
Disclaimer: I kidnapped him from the God King Luc@s . . . and I’ll probably
have to give him back soon. I bet we all agree that I’m making good use of
him though, right?
Dedicated: To Amber, who hopefully won’t kill me when she realizes that I
wrote this instead of Darth Story . . . and who has inspired me in many
ways.
Author’s Note: It started out without a plot, then got a plot, then I got
rid of the plot, but the plot kinda of hung around, so I don’t really know
what it is. *g* You decide. Oh, and no one beta-ed . . my mistakes are my
own.
~~~~~~~~~~

"General Kenobi."

Obi-Wan turns at your voice, a brief look of annoyance flickering over his
face before he can completely suppress it. You can almost hear the
thought--::What /now/?::--echoing back from him as he straightens in his
chair. "Yes?" he asks briefly, his eyebrows furrowing together as he regards
you.

You shift nervously before you can stop the gesture, unable to completely
ignore the way this man can make you feel transparent when he looks at you.
"Message coming in for you, Sir," you respond, trying to hide the exhaustion
coursing through your body after thirty hours without sleep. "From Master
Jinn."

"Good news," he says, voice vibrant with relief. He stands and stretches
before nodding for you to lead the way. "The first good news I’ve heard in
days." A hand on your shoulder stops you, and you turn to meet Obi-Wan’s
eyes. "If I can presume to ask, Master Healer--why are you playing
messenger? There should be plenty of other people who could have carried the
message--and you are already far too busy."

"Six more this afternoon," you respond curtly, spinning on your heel and
starting down the hallway again. "One or two more and we’re going to have to
go back to pick up a new crew." You sigh, the weight of your problems coming
back to rest on your shoulders again. "Only problem is, we’ve got an
epidemic on our hands, General--and I don’t know what the cause is. Until I
do, we can’t risk spreading it to populated worlds."

You can feel the way his eyes bore into the back of your head as he speeds
up to keep up with your rapid pace. "Have you slept at all in the past two
days?" he demands suddenly, stepping around you and stopping you.

You glare up at him. "Master Jinn is waiting, General."

"Master Jinn is a patient man," Obi-Wan responds, crossing arms over his
chest. "Have you slept in the past two days?"

"Have you?" you counter, stepping around him to continue down the hallway.
"I’m as much a Jedi as you, General Kenobi. I may be a Healer, but I’m just
as capable of going without sleep as you are. More so, since I understand my
body."

"You can’t care for the sick if you work yourself into exhaustion."
Obi-Wan’s voice is concerned, and you can feel the worry rolling off of him.
Without thinking about it you boost up your mental shields, effectively
blocking him out.

You stop in front of a door and gesture towards it. "Transmission is opened
in there. Get some sleep when you’re done talking to him. Consider it an
official order from the ship’s Healer." Not waiting for a response you spin
on your heel and stride off down the hallway.

~~~~~~~~

Fifteen hours later you’re starting to feel the effects of exhaustion
creeping up on you. You’ve poured so much energy into the sick members of
the crew, and even when you finally rid them of the sickness the victims are
too weak to move for weeks. The first patient you cured is just now up and
about--fit only to help care for the recovering, leaving you to pour even
more energy into the sick.

The crew is down to the barebones--just enough to keep the large ship
operational. Out of the fifty crew members, ten are still
standing--including yourself and Obi-Wan. Every single one of the crew
members left healthy is someone with an abnormally high midichlorian count,
something you realized only yesterday. While even more perplexing, at least
it gives you hope that you and Obi-Wan will be safe from the epidemic.

Someone has to be in charge here.

You’ve just risen from the bedside of the latest victim when you feel your
knees start to tremble. Healing the six latest patients was far more than
you should have done, but you found out the first day that if they weren’t
treated within twelve hours of the symptoms appearing, they would die.
Having lost three of the crew, you vowed not to lose anyone else.

It takes every bit of willpower in your body not to stumble away from the
bed, but before you can make it out the door your knees give out and you
collapse, barely able to crawl to the wall to brace yourself up before your
body loses all strength.

One of your recovering helpers must have called him, because it isn’t long
before a familiar pair of black boots strides into your line of vision. A
soft gasp is followed by the instant presence of arms around you, and you
can feel your body suddenly cushioned against a warmer, harder one.

"You’re insane," a soft voice tells you, the harshness lost in the
overwhelming rush of worry. You catch a glimpse of yourself through
Obi-Wan’s eyes, suddenly understanding why he is acting so upset--you look
three days past death. Your brown hair is pulled from it’s normally neat
tail and hangs limply around your face, which is hollow and gaunt with
exhaustion. There are dark, deep circles beneath your eyes, which are
closed, revealing the bruised eyelids. Your entire face is as pale as your
tunic, and your lips are slightly blue-tinged.

It’s only then that you realize how cold you are, your entire body
trembling. You gave too much of yourself out, gave all of your Healer energy
and started dipping into your own lifeforce. If there had been just one more
patient . . .

The arms around you tighten as his strides lengthen, the movement of your
body making you dizzy. Clenching your eyes tightly shut, you succumb to the
feeling of exhaustion and let the world slip away.

::NO!:: The mental voice tears through your mind, hurting. You weakly
struggle to raise shields, but the strength of his mind is too much for your
weakened skills. ::Stay with me,:: he commands, his mind jerking you back to
the world. ::Open your eyes. Stay awake. Stay with me.::

You force your eyes open, meeting the anxious blue-green ones above your
face. Your body is still trembling, and you feel so cold that your brain is
almost numb. ::Sleep,:: you insist softly, letting your eyes slide shut
again.

::NO!:: The voice is even louder this time, and it hurts--but the pain keeps
you awake.

::So tired,:: you think, begging for respite. To sleep . . .

::You will stay with me.:: The command is harsh, the mind wrapping around
yours so insistent that you can’t help but obey. You’re vaguely aware of
movement, of hands on your trembling limbs.

The burst of hot water hurts at first, burning your freezing skin. You cry
out and try to escape the spray, but there are arms locked around you like
shackles, holding you underneath the water. One hand is cradling your head
to a broad chest, fingers rubbing your hair.

::You need to be warm,:: the voice says in your mind--not as harsh now, but
every bit as commanding. ::Try. Please try.::

The water slowly becomes bearable, and you relax as your body starts to warm
again. Your mind is drifting, not awake but not quite asleep.

You barely notice it as the water is cut off, the warm hands wrapping you
tightly in a large robe. ::Stay with me,:: the voice demands again, and you
sigh softly as the arms pick you up and carry you towards a bed. ::Awake,::
the voice commands. ::Awake.::

"Awake," you murmur. The hands are rubbing you now, massaging your body even
as the mind slips deftly around yours. You can feel the energy slowly
pulsing through your body as Obi-Wan sends the Force flowing through you,
forcing your lifeforce to resume it’s normal cycle.

You open your eyes and fall into the twin pools of aqua-gray, drinking in
the worry and concern and caring as a balm to your soul even as your body
accepts the Force as a bandage to your shattered spirit.

"You terrified me," he whispers, hands still rubbing at your right arm,
forcing circulation to return to your limbs. "You almost killed yourself."

"Can I sleep now?" you ask softly, stretching your body out and feeling the
Force tingling through your skin. He energized your body, but your mind
still needs rest.

"You can sleep now," he responds, reaching up to frame your face with long
fingers. "Sleep," he whispers, brushing a thumb against your cheek. "Sleep."

~~~~~~~~

You have no idea how much later it is when you next wake, but judging by the
presence of Obi-Wan next to you, arm tossed idly over your stomach as he
sleeps, you figure it’s probably night time.

Obi-Wan stirs beside you, one eye drifting open as if to check on you. When
he sees you looking at him the other eye snaps open and he pulls back,
sitting up.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, one hand drifting down to settle on your
forehead. You laugh slightly, surprised at how much effort it takes you.

"I don’t have a fever, Jedi Kenobi," you say, smiling up at him. You stretch
slowly, feeling the muscles in your body pulling as if they’ve been without
use for a long time . . .

That’s when your internal clock catches up to you, and you let out a string
of curses so vicious that Obi-Wan blinks.

"What--" he starts, but you cut him off with another round of curses.

"I’ve been asleep for /three days/?" you demand shoving your body up and
swinging your legs over the side of the bed. "I need to get to the
infirmary, /now/."

Obi-Wan laughs and snags you easily in one arm, pulling you back onto the
bed and pushing you down. "No. We landed two days ago in a quarantined area.
There are four Jedi Healers on board, looking after the patients. One came
in here and told me that if I let you out of this bed, I’d be demoted to
Padawan and tossed right out of the army."

"If we’ve landed, why are we still on this ship?" you ask, one hand coming
to your head to soothe the pounding headache you’ve just developed.

"You and I are under quarantine until they can figure out what caused the
illness," Obi-Wan replied, settling with his back against the wall. "Even
though it doesn’t seem to affect those with a certain midichlorian count,
it’s very probable that we’re carrying the virus. We’re stuck on this ship
for at least another week." It was obvious from the expression on his face
that he didn’t like it much more than you do.

"What are we supposed to do for the next week?" you ask, feeling the rising
dismay. Inactivity has never been something you were overly fond of, and
forced idleness is only relatively higher than torture on your list.

"You," Obi-Wan says, placing a finger between your eyebrows and giving you a
stern look, "are going to /sleep/." Obi-Wan gives you a wide grin. "The only
reason I haven’t sent you back to sleep already is because you haven’t eaten
anything but broth in the last few days. As soon as you’ve eaten, you’re
going back to sleep."

At first you want to argue, but you learned long ago that there is little
Obi-Wan Kenobi won’t get once he has his mind set on it.
~~~~~~~~~