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The battle is over, and Anakin cannot be more relieved. He wants nothing more than to go back to the Resolute and sleep in his quarters, preferably for hours.
He looks up at the sky, where three Republic cruisers start to close in on their position. The cloudy sky of Maridun encompasses them in a mix of gray and orange. "We shall take our leave," Aayla says from beside him.
Wag Too nods. "Safe travels, we wish you." He turns to Anakin, giving him a kind smile. "And a smooth recovery." Tee Watt Kaa stays silent, though he also offers them a rare smile of his own.
Anakin returns the expression, hoping it doesn't come out as a grimace.
His side has started throbbing again, the feeling making his chest feel a tad too tight. The fight leaves him drained to the bone, and the Force seems to escape his grasp little by little. Since they found the probe droid -- yesterday -- Anakin has used the Force to block the pain from his injuries, expelling the terrible ache and exhaustion into its depth. Obi-Wan would not approve if he found out, and neither would his medics.
He knows of the possible risk of Force exhaustion -- and just how horrible to suffer from one -- but he had little choice then, and he doesn't want to collapse now. Anakin swallows back a wince as he wills the Force to keep him standing for a little bit longer.
"Thank you," Aayla says as he gives the Lurmens a shallow bow. He and Ahsoka follow her move. Anakin instantly regrets doing that.
Anakin gasps as a sudden wave of pain shoots up from his ribs at the move. His vision swims as the pain aggravates his headache.
No. Not now.
Perhaps going into battle with busted ribs and a possible concussion with only the Force to keep him upright was not a smart move. And now, the only thing keeping him upright starts to slither out of his grasp. Anakin finds it harder to breathe.
His hand instinctively goes to his left side. The bandage is still a bit sticky from the oil Wag Too used to tend his wounds. He tries -- and fails -- to steady his rapidly beating heart.
"Master?" Ahsoka's voice sounds fuzzy. Anakin knows, for a fact, it shouldn't sound so far away. "Are you okay?"
Anakin can't muster the strength to answer. Between the flare of pain that shoots in his chest whenever he takes a breath and the pounding in his head, he just can't.
"Skywalker--" Aayla's voice is as far away as Ahsoka's. "Sit him down," another voice filters in -- Wag Too, he realizes -- and a set of hands place themselves on his shoulders.
That's when his knees decide to give out from under him. "Skywalker-- Anakin!"
Anakin is distinctly aware of Aayla's startled call. The hands move quickly to catch him as his body loses the strength to keep him standing. The Force has all but left him now, and darkness starts to creep into the peripheral of his vision.
The last thing he feels is someone lowering him to the ground, his lungs fighting for oxygen.
Ahsoka watches in stunned horror as Master Secura tries her best to lower her master to the ground. Her feet walk out of instinct, and her mind finally catches up with the act when she's suddenly beside Anakin's head. A lump suddenly forms in her throat when she sees the terrible state her master is in:
Anakin's eyes are sealed shut, and beads of sweat gather on his brows as he struggles for air. Anakin's lips are parted open slightly, breaths coming out too shallow. Human biology is still a lost cause to her, but Ahsoka is absolutely sure that blue is not a natural lip color for humans.
She thought Anakin was doing better. He had looked fine when they broke into the Separatist's base to steal the shuttle and the shield generators. He also managed to slice clankers and capture Lok Durd without looking like he'd suffered a scratch. Now Ahsoka has a suspicion Anakin was shielding his pain. Knowing Anakin -- even for the few months she has been his apprentice -- her guess is probably not far-fetched.
Wag Too immediately jumps beside them, his skilled hand moving to Anakin's neck and chest. His dark eyes widen, and Ahsoka's worry skyrockets. "Is it bad?"
"It seems so. The battle must be too much for his injury." Wag Too shakes his head slightly. "You must hurry back," the healer says. As if on cue, two more Lurmens run toward them, bringing the make-shift stretcher they had used to bring Anakin here the first time.
The next couple of minutes passes by like a blur. Too many things are happening at once, and Ahsoka almost cannot keep up. Anakin is moved to the stretcher before Wag Too hurries to slide stuffed squares that resemble pillows beneath his head and knees, keeping them elevated.
"This would have to do until you reach your ship," the Lurmen healer says as he finishes pouring a bit of the blue oil on Anakin's bandage. "But you have to hurry. He's getting worse."
Ahsoka looks down at her master's too pale complexion and at his still heaving chest. Her concern doesn't cease at all.
As she and Master Secura quickly load Anakin into the shuttle, Ahsoka can only hope the Force will spare her master's life.
The last time she was in this position, she had been sixteen and anxiously waiting for a nine-year-old padawan with a nasty case of the flu to wake up. That doesn't make this whole situation any less anxious.
Aayla hears Ahsoka sighs heavily. The repeated tap-tap-tap of her feet is a clear sign of her nervousness. She can't blame her. It's not a pleasant feeling seeing your master incapacitated and in pain.
Aayla puts her datapad away, turning her head to look at the padawan beside her. Ahsoka's eyes are locked on her master's prone form, her lips pressed in a thin line. Aayla follows her gaze, and she sighs softly.
Anakin is still unconscious even after two hours. An oxygen mask is securely placed over his mouth and nose, fogging up as he draws each breath. His left hand is extended over his head to make way for a small tube on his side, connected to a drainage system. A bandage soaked in bacta is loosely wrapped around Anakin's bare chest, hiding the purple, angry bruises underneath.
The 501st medic -- Kix, if she's not mistaken -- said her friend would be fine. They just need to keep an eye on him, especially with Anakin's punctured lung, broken ribs, concussion, and Force exhaustion -- which, she suspects, is causing the low-grade fever.
The Twi'lek takes a deep breath. It's not pleasant seeing a master injured, but neither does seeing a friend injured. Aayla exhales a heavy breath. She glances at Ahsoka, noticing her knitted eye markings. For her sake, Aayla hopes Anakin will wake up soon. "He will be fine," she soothes.
Ahsoka turns her head, her padawan beads making a soft clicking sound behind her montrals. "I know," she answers, though the concern is prominent in her blue eyes. "It's just--" she sighs sharply, "Master Skywalker is rarely so still a-and he is so still now, and it's wrong--"
"Hey," Aayla cuts in, placing a hand on the padawan's shoulder. Ahsoka's eyes are wide and slightly glassy with unshed tears, her breaths coming out shaky and fast. "Breathe with me, Padawan." Aayla takes a deep breath, lets it out a moment later, and repeats the process afterward. She nods encouragingly as Ahsoka starts to follow her example.
It takes a few more rounds before Ahsoka calms down. Aayla's eyes soften, and she gives her an approving smile. "Good," she says, patting Ahsoka's shoulder twice before pulling back.
Ahsoka looks away from her gaze. "I'm sorry, Master Secura," she apologizes, her voice so low, almost a whisper.
"There's no need to apologize, Ahsoka. As I said back on Maridun, you're not the first padawan to worry about their master. It happens to everyone." She offers Ahsoka another gentle smile when she meets her eyes again. "But it's still important to be mindful. We are the ones who have to be in control of our concerns, not the other way around."
Ahsoka nods. "Yes, Master. Thank you."
Aayla makes sure to radiate waves of comfort in the Force. "Now, as for your master. I'm sure he'll pull through. You said it yourself; Anakin isn't one to stay still -- always on the move."
The padawan chuckles, her tight shoulders easing. "Master Kenobi often says that."
It's Aayla's turn to chuckle. "I'm not surprised. Anakin used to drive Master Kenobi up the wall when he was a padawan. There was one time he tried talking four mouse droids into playing hide and seek."
Ahsoka snorts. "How did that work out for him?"
"Not so great," Aayla answers with a smirk. "The mouse droids left quite a bubbly mess all over the refectory -- that was where Anakin went to hide. Neither Master Kenobi nor Master Windu was pleased. It was a whole week of cleaning duty for your master."
The young Togruta bursts into a fit of giggles and Aayla can't help but join her.
"What crazy ideas have you been feeding my padawan, Secura?" a muffled voice suddenly croaks.
Ahsoka's head immediately snaps toward the owner of the voice, laughter dying down. Her face splits into a wide, relieved grin when she sees Anakin's eyes slowly fluttering open. "Master, you're awake!"
The Jedi Knight smiles fondly under the oxygen mask before he turns, looking at her expectantly. Aayla chuckles, standing up and walking closer to the cot.
"Oh, nothing she already knows -- more or less," she answers his question, winking at the padawan.
Ahsoka nods in agreement, the smug smirk on her face matching hers. "But that hardly matters right now," Aayla adds when Anakin raises a brow in pretend skepticism. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine," Anakin replies almost automatically. The way he answers it -- too fast and too stiff -- makes Aayla suspicious. By the looks of it, Ahsoka doesn't seem to believe her master's word either. She narrows her eyes, arms crossing in front of her chest. "Are you sure, Master?"
The wounded knight chuckles and Aayla doesn't miss the subtle wince after. Definitely not okay. "Yes, Snips. Totally fine."
No, he's not fine, Aayla is sure. She raises an eyebrow, and Anakin regards her with a silent look. She knows Skywalker well enough to get the message:
Later. We can talk about it later. The Twi'lek sighs, nodding subtly in response.
Ahsoka furrows her brow markings, but she nods nonetheless, deciding to trust Anakin's claim for now. "Okay. Is there anything I could get you then, Master?"
"I am a bit thirsty," Anakin answers, almost sheepishly.
"Are you cold?" Aayla asks. "Do you want more blankets too?" She still remembers how Anakin truly despises being cold, and the medbay is far from warm.
Anakin nods begrudgingly, giving her a glare which she ignores with an innocent shrug. Ahsoka chuckles. "More blankets it is. I'll be right back."
As soon as his padawan left through the door, Anakin heaves a pained breath, his eyes blinking shut for a moment. His left arm forms a fist above his head. Aayla frowns, looking concerned. "How are you really feeling, Anakin? I want a complete and honest answer this time."
Anakin's eyes flutter open again, turning to see the long tube coming out of his side. "Side a bit tight," he says. "Arm a bit sore. Head hurts. Tired."
Aayla's eyes soften in sympathy. "I'm sorry." She sits on the edge of the bed, pulling Anakin's blanket as far up as she can without touching the tube -- up to his abdomen. "Is there anything I can do before your padawan comes back?"
"Just can you tell me what happened?"
"You collapsed," Aayla says. "Right after the cruisers arrived. You have quite the list of injuries, my friend: two broken ribs, a collapsed lung, mild concussion, and Force exhaustion."
Anakin sighs. "Does this mean I have to stay in bed?"
"For a week at least," Aayla answers with a smile. "Your medic told me he's also going to put you on leave for a few weeks."
The man beside her groans, putting his outstretched arm over his eyes. He winces a bit when the move pulls on his injured side.
"Oh, do cheer up, Skywalker. It's not a bad sentence," the Twi'lek teases.
Anakin peeks under his arm to glare at her. "Says someone who once asked a nine-year-old to help her escape the Halls of Healing after she had been ordered to rest for three days," he deadpans.
"I don't know who you're talking about."
Anakin scoffs. "Yeah, right," she hears him mumble, and Aayla can't stop herself from laughing. Anakin joins her not long after, but his laugh is way softer and breathier -- a courtesy from his punctured lung. His laughter mixes in with hers just like old times, light and cheery. It takes her back to the good old days when Anakin was still tiny -- with a padawan braid running from his scruffy blond hair -- and would laugh at every joke she would crack.
"Hey, Aayla," Anakin starts after their laughter dies down.
"Hmm? What is it?" she asks, reaching up to fix Anakin's oxygen mask that has shifted a bit from his laughter.
Anakin's metal hand fidgets slightly with the hem of his blanket as if he doesn't know how to say what he wants to. "T-thank you for taking care of my padawan -- w-when I couldn't. It means a lot."
A burst of warmth fills her chest at Anakin's only-slightly awkward words of gratitude. Aayla smiles. "It was my pleasure. But, honestly, Anakin, next time, if you can't help but be the hero--" Anakin laughs "--please make it less self-sacrificial, hmm? Knocking on death's door is a bit much even for you, my very reckless friend."
"No promises," Anakin smirks before it softens again. "Seriously though, thank you, Master Secura, for everything."
The burst of warmth stays in her chest like a small fire. She reaches over and locks her fingers with Anakin's metal ones. Aayla smiles softly, giving her little brother's hand a comforting squeeze. "You're welcome, Knight Skywalker."