Need Chapter XVI - Obi-Wan
by Esmeralda
Muttering to himself, Obi-Wan crouched down by the waterside, his eyes fixed on the monitor in front of him. Qui-Gon had left straight after breakfast, and Obi-Wan had immediately turned his attention to setting up the water purification unit. He was still upset at being grounded at camp, and irritated that he had been forbidden to re-enter the ship.
Last night he had been too exhausted to dream...but tonight? He *had* to find that remaining vial. A thorough search while he had been waiting for the first water readings to come through, had turned up nothing; so it *had* to be inside the ship. Obi-Wan was torn between his obedience to Qui-Gon, and his desperate need to locate the last of the sleeping draft.
He turned his full attention back to the monitor as the next set of readings appeared. After checking them through twice, he allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction - they had water. Done, he made to stand, only to freeze as a sharp spasm of pain jabbed at him. Panting he clutched his side, as the pain flickered on a knife edge, a breath away from retreating to its usual dull, gnawing ache. Trying to ignore it, he stood up slowly; as he did so it suddenly flared outwards, sending shards of white hot agony shooting through his body.
Clenching his teeth against a scream, Obi-Wan sank to his knees, doubling over as another spasm struck. He tried to suck in a breath, but his chest felt as though it were being crushed by an invisible force. He couldn't breathe...he couldn't breathe...spots danced before his eyes; he fought against panic as it rose up, threatening to overwhelm him.
Suddenly strong arms encircled him, and gratefully he leaned into their support. Someone was talking to him in low, urgent tones, but he was unable to reply. Another wave of pain hit, and desperate to stop the agony, he struggled to speak; gasping as the pain wrenched the words from him, "Make...make it...stop...Please...make it sto...stop-"
It hurt *so* much. Why hadn't he passed out? Why did it hurt so much? He wouldn't scream...he wouldn't...
Chapter XVII
Qui-Gon had been walking for some time, and had still found only shrivelled grass, and dry tumble-weed. His pace was slow, and cautious; the uneven ground held deep fissures - waiting to snag a misplaced foot. The air was cold, and each drawn breath made his chest ache. He pulled his robe tighter; it was still a little damp - the planet's pale sun gave no warmth to dry it.
He had stopped to get his bearings when he felt 'it' - a sharp stab of distress. //Obi-Wan?!// *Pain...pain and fear* - Qui-Gon didn't hesitate, turning back toward the ship he raced across the tephra. Guided by a Jedi's instincts he crossed the scarred landscape with unconscious ease. His gaze fixed ahead, Qui-Gon's mouth tightened as he caught sight of the crumpled figure beside the water's edge.
It seemed an agonizing length of time before he finally reached Obi- Wan. Sinking into the sand beside the youth, he wrapped his arms around his Padawan, "Obi-Wan! Obi-Wan, What is it?!"
He turned the young man's face gently toward him, and stared - shocked by his Padawan's startling pallor; lips drawn back in an expression of almost animalistic suffering.
Obi-Wan's eyes pleaded with him wordlessly. Distraught he stroked the young man's face. "Obi-Wan..." He reached out with the Force, letting it sweep through his young love's mind and body, soothing...searching...seeking...
Qui-Gon started a little, *How?...How could that be possible?* He stretched his senses out a little further, then took hold of Obi-Wan's face and stared intently into his Padawan's pain-filled eyes.
"Obi-Wan! Obi-Wan, *listen* to me!" Gray-green eyes focused on him slowly. "You have been poisoned. *Listen to me* Obi-Wan!" The young man's awareness was drifting - desperately Qui-Gon tightened his grip, pressing his fingers almost painfully into his Padawan's white face. "Obi-Wan I *need* to know what you have taken?!"
"Make...make it...stop...Please...make it st...stop-" The words, rasped out between sobbed breaths, tore through Qui-Gon like a saber thrust.
//Oh my love, I will...I will.// He pressed his lips briefly to his Padawan's forehead, the young man's skin was icy cold. He drew back and again looked into Obi-Wan's eyes, willing the youth to focus on him. Obi-Wan did, but it was obvious the young man was rapidly losing consciousness.
His voice hoarse with fear, Qui-Gon pleaded for his Padawan to answer, "Obi-Wan, *please* What did you take?" He glanced around him wildly, struggling to think, his gaze fell on the purification unit. "The water? Obi-Wan did you drink the water?" There was no reply as Obi-Wan' eyes began to roll back. "No! Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon slapped the young man's cheek - once, gently...then again, a little harder. Obi-Wan moaned softly, gray-green eyes slowly focusing upon Qui-Gon's tortured face.
"W...water."
"Yes! The water. Did you drink any?"
"N...no."
"Alright, good Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon stroked a pale, cold cheek gently. "Good, you didn't drink the wa-" He broke off as Obi-Wan suddenly arched up, writhing in renewed agony. Helplessly Qui-Gon held his Padawan until the painful spasm passed.
Obi-Wan looked at him piteously, "H...hurts..."
Fighting back anguished tears Qui-Gon nodded, "I know. I know my love" He was trying to use the Force to block as much of the young man's pain as he could - but it didn't seem to be having any effect. "You must try to think Obi-Wan. There must be*something*...Perhaps before?"
He felt Obi-Wan stiffen slightly, but knew this time it was with realization, not pain.
"Sleep...sleeping." Obi-Wan swallowed harshly, "Sleeping draft..."
"What-?"
"I...I took...a...sl...sleep...draft..."
With renewed urgency Qui-Gon pressed the youth,"When? When did you take it Obi-Wan?!"
"Nei...der..."
Confused, Qui-Gon pushed aside all his other questions, concentrating on the important ones. He knew the sleeping draft couldn't have come from the Temple, Master Segella would never have given it to Obi- Wan without informing him. Which could only mean Obi-Wan had purchased it secretly. *Why?* His heart cried out for answers, but he forced his mind to ask the more urgent ones.
"Obi-Wan, do you know what was in it? The ingredients Obi-Wan. What were they?" Obi-Wan's eyelids fluttered, then closed. "No! Obi- Wan! *Padawan* answer me!"
Obi-Wan obeyed the order instinctively, eyes opening slowly, "M...master?" Obi-Wan seemed dazed.
Relieved Qui-Gon nodded, "Yes my love. Now think, Obi-Wan - The sleeping draft, what was in it?"
Obi-Wan's forehead crinkled in thought; but after only a moment the youth hook his head despairingly,
"I can't...Master...I-" Obi-Wan' voice broke on a sob.
"Sssh, yes. Yes you can my love." Qui-Gon stroked his Bond mate's face soothingly, willing his own strength into the trembling body. Obi- Wan closed his eyes again, this time in concentration.
"P...perriara Berries...Tucuml...He...hepsom...Mun-?...Mundus-"
"Mindus?" Qui-Gon cut in quickly, fear edged his words. "Was it Mindus?"
Obi-Wan opened his eyes, after a brief hesitation the youth nodded, "Yes...Yes...I think so..."
Qui-Gon released a shuddering breath. Obi-Wan stared, confusion etched into his pale, drawn features. Struggling to keep the despair from his voice, Qui-Gon answered his Padawan's unspoken question, "Mindus is deadly to those gifted with the Force. It is a poison to us, Obi-Wan."
Gray-green eyes widened, and Qui-Gon saw the fear in them. Moving swiftly he lifted Obi-Wan into his arms. Obi-Wan responded by circling an arm loosely around his neck. Using the Force to augment his hold, Qui-Gon carried his Bond mate back into the shelter. Laying Obi-Wan down upon a blanket, he drew the others over the young man's shivering body.
He paused when Obi-Wan reached up and caught his hand weakly.
"What...what will happen?"
When Qui-Gon didn't answer, the young man tightened his grip; green-gray eyes flaring with sudden determination. "Tell me!"
Qui-Gon met his Padawan's gaze calmly, but was unable to completely keep the tremor from his voice,"I...There is nothing I can give you Obi-Wan. Your body must fight off the poison..." Qui-Gon's throat tightened, choking off his words - leaving unspoken what would happen if Obi-Wan failed. It didn't need to be said; Qui-Gon saw understanding in his Padawan's eyes...understanding...and acceptance.
It was more than he could stand. Pulling his hand away, he shifted back. "I'm going to see if there is anything of use in the medi-kit." Obi-Wan nodded listlessly, eyes fixed on the canvas above. Tears clouding his vision Qui-Gon ducked out of the shelter. Once outside, he walked only a few paces before sinking to his knees; silently spilling his despair into the cold, black sand.
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