Master Apprentice Archive Plague Quick search:

Pairing: Q/O

Rating: PG

Warning: Not a happy story

Summary: One of several scenes in the "Obi-the-Kid" Series

Catagory: Pre-slash

Disclaimer: Just toying with the boys

Feedback: Yes Please.

Archive: M_A please.

"Lie still," Master Jinn whispered. "Rest."

He held the cool, damp cloth against a fevered brow. Big grey eyes opened slowly. Soft, pale lips curved into a wane smile. Harsh breath, chills and raging fever waged a bitter war against the flickering candle of life inside the small slim body. Shaking, Obi-Wan clutched his blanket and then snatched at the heavy robe of the man sitting at his bedside.

Around them, all the children of the creche suffered. Only those who had already joined the Force were at peace. They had died quickly a few days earlier, before the illness was recognized as a dire threat to Force users. Now, four days after the first case, the terrible plague had claimed a fifth of the youngsters. All the others hovered at the brink.

Members of the Jedi Council were helpless. They could only offer comfort. They enfolded the dying children in their arms and mourned as they slipped into the Force. Master Yoda hobbled the aisles of the Healer's wing. He muttered and tapped his stick, ears drooping and step unsteady. Darkness, he pondered.

Feeling every one of his eight hundred years, Yoda walked slowly from bunk to crib. Regarding the illness, age seemed a blessing. No one who had lived more than sixteen years had fallen ill. Thankfully the children of the planet had been spared. Only Force sensitive youngsters sickened. Darkness it had to be, Yoda murmured.

Out of kindness, everyone, Knights, Masters and Padawans offered to attend the dying. Their presence seemed to ease some of the suffering. So much so that Yoda believed it might yet prove a way to combat the devastating plague. By the third day, a Knight or a Master sat at the bedside of each child.

Padawans who were nearly knights, sat with the older children to keep up their spirits. Everyone meditated.

Despite their best efforts, fear became another enemy. Weeping replaced song in the halls of the Jedi Temple. It was painful to watch the children suffer. No one could contemplate anything but the horrors of the plague.

Yoda pondered and released his own fear into the Force. He asked Qui-Gon to hold the icy hand of a child of great promise. Two days earlier, Master Jinn had bid farewell to his newly chosen Padawan. He'd been a truly gifted youngster. He'd sickened and faded quickly. Now the bereft Master sat with another boy, wishing he were anywhere else.

"Thanks," murmured the tired voice of the little fellow who looked up with cloudy grey eyes.

Qui-Gon sensed the boy's courage. The lad held the hem of his sleeve in a fierce grip. He was not going to slip quietly into the Force. He'd go down like the fighter he was. Like the Knight he should have become one day...

Fresh, sharp grief surged up anew from the depths of Qui-Gon's spirit. Hot salt tears spilled from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. He reached into the narrow cot and took the boy into his arms. He cradled the child and rocked him slowly. He held him tight.

Qui-Gon felt the boy's little hand on his face. He'd reached up and wiped the tears away.

"Don't cry, Master. I'm trying very hard to get well," the child said. "In fact, I won't just try. I'll do, Master Jinn."

"I would not expect less from you, Obi-Wan. I wish my Padawan had had your spirit."

"Why aren't you with him? Has he recovered already?"

"He's gone. And I am very sad. And afraid for you. Are you afraid, Obi-Wan?"

"No, I'm not. Honest," Obi-Wan answered quickly, his voice a little stronger. "I feel safe in your arms."

"I wish I knew what was harming you. All I can do is hold you. I couldn't stop what happened to my own Padawan."

The child trembled in his embrace. Qui-Gon heard a low murmur of breath.

"Obi-Wan, are you in pain?"

"No, Master. I sensed your loss. I'm so sorry."

"I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm supposed to be comforting you."

"I think we should share. That would be helpful, wouldn't it?"

For the first time in days, Qui-Gon smiled. Tears rolled down his cheek and he sniffed. Then he bent and gave the child's rufous hair a kiss.

Obi-Wan yawned and said, "I'm tired. May I go to sleep now?"

"If you promise you won't leave me."

"I promise."

Master Jinn could say no more. He nodded and the boy relaxed in his arms. He felt the living Force coiled inside the child's small body. Qui-Gon gently blew the short damp locks of reddish gold hair back from the perfect brow. He imagined the flame of life flaring up, the blood warming, the organs resuming their functions.

Qui-Gon pressed another kiss to the child's forehead. He sent a wave of the Living Force into the child's subconscious. He promised to nurture, teach and guide the young mind and body. He bent his head and touched the child's lips with his own. His eyes brimmed again. Not with sorrow this time but rather with pride.

A salt tear fell on the child's cheek. It ran to the corner of the little mouth. The child's pink tongue darted out and caught the tear. Then little sleeping Obi-Wan smiled and snuggled into the strong arms that held him safe. The furrow between his lidded eyes smoothed. Qui-Gon sensed a marked reduction in the level of his pain. Best of all, the boy was deep asleep now in clean, healing slumber.

All night Qui-Gon held Obi-Wan, feeding him visions of hope and praising his efforts to recover. Qui-Gon's heart lightened too as he felt the growing strength inside the child. Throughout the sick ward, the Living Force swirled with the Unifying Force. Other Master's felt it and redoubled their efforts with their own charges.

When dawn broke, so did the fever. Obi-Wan woke refreshed and hungry. The rest of the children slept peacefully for the first time in days. Darkness had been banished by the light of hope and promises of a future shared.