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swhurtcomfort · 2 years ago

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Can you make a part two to "Obi-Wan rescues Anakin after months of torture and cleans him up and cares for him while they wait for a medevac" where Anakin recovers from the lasting effects?

(thanks, anon! sequel to [this])

Obi-Wan’s heart didn’t stop pounding until the evac landed behind the safehouse. Two medics and two ground troopers met Obi-Wan at the door.

It was much easier to rouse Anakin this time. Hopefully that meant the sedative was clearing out of his system. Anakin nodded in recognition at the soldiers, but didn’t make any other effort to communicate except to moan in pain as they loaded him onto a gurney.

Obi-Wan watched the medic buckle the safety straps across Anakin’s chest and just above his knees.

“He might prefer to lie on his side,” he said breathlessly, thinking of the awful wounds crisscrossing Anakin’s back. Anakin groaned in agreement.

“Once we jump to hyperspace, we can reposition him.” the medic promised, already moving towards the exit and not looking up from his work. “Vitals are okay for now, heart rate 126, normal rhythm, B.P. 190 over 110 and coming down, temp is 99.9,” he said to his partner.

Anakin started to calm down once they were in the air. Obi-Wan typed a short update to Cody, then a more informal one to Ahsoka.

A trooper took the seat next to Obi-Wan’s and quizzed him about everything that had happened in the eight hours they spent waiting at the safehouse. “You said you think he was drugged, sir?”

Obi-Wan nodded. “There are needle marks, and he was barely lucid when I found him. Sedated, I think.”

“Tox screen,” one of the medics mumbled to the other, who nodded and immediately started tying a tourniquet around Anakin’s flesh arm and searching for a vein there. “Just a quick pinch, General Skywalker,” he said. He drew blood, then used the same line to start a bag of IV fluids.

“Can I roll on my side now?”

“Yes, let us help, sir.”

Anakin couldn’t hold back the pained noises as the medics repositioned him.

“I’m sorry we can’t give you any relief, sir,” the medic explained. “Can’t go mixing painkillers with an unknown dose of mystery sedative.”

The trooper who was interviewing Obi-Wan continued, “And he tolerated a bit of food and water?”

“On the second attempt, yes,” Obi-Wan confirmed. “I’m afraid initially, I didn’t consider that a meal pack would be too much of a shock to his system, and it came back up. A while after that, he was able to keep some pureed fruit down.”

From behind the trooper, one of the medics piped up “I’m glad, but he really shouldn’t be taking anything by mouth until we have an electrolyte panel back. Skywalker was a healthy weight before this, so just going off the look of things I’d say he’s a refeeding risk.”

Anakin grimaced at the reference to his appearance, while Obi-Wan swallowed a pang of guilt. Anakin had been so desperate and so obviously starving, Obi-Wan had failed to consider that giving him food could be dangerous.

“Hear that, Patch?” the medic asked.

“Check electrolytes and serum glucose; on it, vod.”

Anakin remained stable and awake as they zipped through hyperspace. Obi-Wan sat beside him in silence, one hand resting on the side of the gurney. His commlink chirped.

“Anakin,” said Obi-Wan gently, waiting for Anakin to turn his head in response. “I let Ahsoka know that you’re alright. She asked if you could comm.”

Anakin’s face fell.

“I should,” he mumbled.

“You can say no,” Obi-Wan assured him. Anakin looked relieved. The separation and uncertainty had been grueling on Ahsoka, but certainly Anakin had suffered more. If he didn’t want to talk about it while tired and in pain, Obi-Wan couldn’t fault him.

“Would you mind if I stepped out to speak with her?” he asked. Anakin shook his head.

***

The clone medics turned over care to the Jedi Healers on Coruscant, and the whole process of examinations and tests started anew.

While Anakin was being transported straight to the Halls, Obi-Wan met Ahsoka in the hangar bay. She rocketed into his arms, gripping Obi-Wan tight.

“It’s alright, Padawan. He’s home. We’ve got him.”

Ahsoka squeezed Obi-Wan tighter. They made their way to the Halls and waited together, but when a healer appeared, she invited only Obi-Wan to follow her.

The healers’ recommendations were much as expected: short bacta soaks and oral antibiotics for the mess of wounds on his back, careful monitoring and bloodwork as they reintroduced small amounts of food, an evaluation by a mind-healer.

Anakin was looking much more relaxed now that he had completed his first round of bacta treatment and finally been administered some pain relief. Obi-Wan leaned over him to gently touch his cheek. Anakin smiled as he reached up for the hand, taking it into his own and resting both on his chest. He then promptly fell asleep.

Anakin was in lower spirits in the morning. He asked for a mirror, and then seemed even more upset when this request was granted.

Obi-Wan knew that Ahsoka was still waiting to see him, but he didn’t bring it up yet. First, he procured a basin and supplies and set to work easing the knots and tangles from Anakin’s woefully neglected hair. Anakin was uncharacteristically silent, only flinching when a few particularly stubborn mats had to be snipped away. Obi-Wan almost teased him, given that his former padawan had always been just a little bit vain about his hair, but he refrained. They were able to save most of it, which was impressive, all things considered.

After Anakin had a chance to use the shave kit as well, he was looking much less haggard.

Anakin cleared his throat. “You said Ahsoka helped find me?” he rasped.

Obi-Wan nodded. “She did. It was her idea to breach the facility through the fuel delivery bay. She wanted to be the one to extract you, but I thought it would be better if I went.”

Anakin nodded.

“She’s been waiting down the hall–”

“I’m not…I’m not ready,” Anakin stumbled, averting his gaze. “Not yet.”

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows in concern, but did not comment.

Obi-Wan didn’t technically request leave from the Council, but it went without saying. Over the next several days, about half the times Obi-Wan arrived at the Halls of Healing, he was told that Anakin wasn’t feeling up to visitors. When he wasn’t turned away at the door, he would sit by Anakin’s bedside, but there wasn’t much conversation.

Obi-Wan had grown to expect a certain amount of griping from a recuperating Anakin – complaining about the healer’s demands, about wanting his own bed, or about dietitian-prescribed meals, but this time there was none. He didn’t speak much, except at night when he mumbled incoherently through restless dreams. And he still wouldn’t see any visitors other than Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan made excuses to Ahsoka. Anakin was tired, he was groggy or nauseous from the medication, he hadn’t slept well. Often, the excuses were true, but it didn’t make things less awkward.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan spoke up one evening as he was getting ready to depart. “Perhaps–at least a conversation over holo would–”

The words died on his lips with the pleading look Anakin gave him.

***

The long-term plan the healers proposed was unsurprising too: weekly weigh-ins until Anakin was back to his previous weight, six more sessions with the mind-healer, gentle katas and exercise under a healer’s supervision until they were confident that the neither excess scar tissue nor weakened muscles were likely to cause further injury.

A droid removed Anakin’s IV and monitors. Obi-Wan helped him pack up the belongings that had accumulated in his room; Obi-Wan and Ahsoka’s attempts to make him feel more comfortable in the Halls surrounded by blankets, mugs, and other familiar items from home.

Seeing him dressed in full Jedi attire again calmed some of the feelings that sometimes felt like they were restricting Obi-Wan’s windpipe. It began to sink in that Anakin was truly safe. He no longer looked so malnourished, and several bacta treatments had closed his wounds and jumpstarted the physical healing process.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan tried again, but he faltered.

For a moment, Obi-Wan wondered whether he would ask to stay in Obi-Wan’s quarters rather than the suite he shared with Ahsoka, to continue hiding from the world.

Anakin cleared his throat.

“I want…I wanted to be better. Before she saw me.”

Obi-Wan put down the blankets and paused carefully before he said, “Anakin, you were a prisoner of war for several months. No one expects you to be alright just like that.”

“They’re not…they’re not all fresh scars, Master,” Anakin mumbled cryptically.

The long, thin scars across Anakin’s back were not all new. Obi-Wan knew that much. He hummed.

“I just keep thinking, round and round my head…she deserves better. It wasn’t fair, what this whole thing must have put her through.”

“All padawans who grow up in wartime deserve better,” said Obi-Wan. “Yourself included.”

After a pause, he added, “And she needs you. Your healing came first–she’s alright, and I’ve tried to be there as much as I can, especially while you were missing–but she needs her master.”

Without sharing the exact reason, Obi-Wan made sure that Anakin was discharged while Ahsoka was in class so that he would have a bit of time to settle before he had to confront her.

The outer door mechanism clicked, and Anakin suddenly shot Obi-Wan a look of panic.

“She doesn’t need you to be okay all of the time. She just needs you to be there,” said Obi-Wan quietly from where he stood in the corner of the living area.

Ahsoka was fidgeting with the shoulder strap of her school bag when she entered.

“Hey, Skyguy,” she said nervously.

“Hey,” Anakin choked.

“How about both of you sit down,” Obi-Wan suggested gently. It was only partially because Anakin had turned pale. He slipped into the kitchen to put on a kettle. From the doorway behind him, he heard muted conversation that eventually devolved into sniffling. When he heard two peals of nervous laughter, Obi-Wan set down the tea and allowed himself a sigh of relief.

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