Disclaimer: I own not Star Wars; George Lucas owneth it.

Title: Medcenter Confessions

Time: end of TPM

Obi-Wan was slumped aginst the wall of the waiting room, breathing quietly. Shmi was sure he was either meditating or had passed out from adrenaline rebound. He even looked a little like Anakin did when he passed out after podraces. He's had a hard day. We all have. And what Qui-Gon said... Qui-Gon's probably the only family he's ever had.

She glanced worriedly toward the door. Qui-Gon...

There had been no information since they had come here, other than that they were taking him straight into the operating room.

The news about Anakin, however...

He may be an official war hero, but he's only 9-years-old and nothing says he is not grounded for life as soon as I get my hands on him! He could've been killed!

She hopped up and started pacing.

"Shmi?" Padme's head was poked in the other door, the one leading to the rest of the healthy world. Tears were streaked down her face. "Can I talk to you?"

Shmi was a little uncomfortable around the girlafter all, who was a recently-freed slavewoman to talk to a queen?but Padme hadn't changed from the girl she had befriended on the flight from Tatooine. She walked over to the girl, put an arm around her, and led her over to the couch Shmi herself had vacated only a moment before. "What is it?"

"The camps... My family..." Padme suddenly buried her face into Shmi's shoulder and the older woman held her close. "They're gone," she gasped, shaking from heaving sobs. "All of them... mother, father, sister... The moment we left the planet the Trade Federation found where they were and..."

Shmi ran a hand over the young queen's hair, slightly confused but trying to comfort her anyway. Both parents? But she's a queen...

"I shouldn't have run in that election. I should have just stayed a regular kid like my sister and then none of this would have happened..."

"'Election'?"

"Elected monarchy. I'm the youngest ruler we've ever had. Dad was so proud, Mom was crying..."

Shmi held the girl close. "Shh. You had no way of knowing what would happen. I doubt even the Jedi could have known what would happen. They are gone but the rest of your people are free."

They sat there together for a long while.

Finally, Padme quieted somewhat. "Any news about Qui-Gon?" she whispered through still-falling tears.

Obi-Wan's head jerked up. "Huh?" His eyes went wide when he saw Padme crying, and there was this little tremble in his lower lip...

Oh dear... Shmi mouthed to him, "Her family, not your master." She ran a hand over Padme's hair again, shifting her weight under that of the younger woman. "There is no news about Qui-Gon yet. There has been no news about Qui-Gon."

Obi-Wan stood, stretching. "It's been hours."

"And if that had been a straight metal wound, uncauterized, and medical care had not been available, he would have been hours dead by now, Obi-Wan. I've see people die that way in the slave tenements." Shmi felt tears run down her face as she said it. "Be glad for what you have."

Obi-Wan looked away, blushing with embarassment. She barely heard him whisper, "I can see what Master sees in you."

A medicfinallypoked her head through the door. "Master Jinn is stabilized and resting as comfortably as anyone on that many painkillers and mild sedatives can. The Trade Federation removed all bacta from the planet after they invaded, so he's going to be in the medcenter for a while."

"He's going to be okay?" Obi-Wan's voice wavered a bit.

"After about a month's bedrest and a good deal of physical therapy, probably. With the muscle damage, I doubt he'll ever fight comfortably again."

"When will he wake up?" Padme asked, head still pillowed on Shmi's shoulder.

"As far as we can tell, whenever he feels like it. He's on heavy meds, but the sedatives are mostly to keep him from moving around too much. He's probably most likely to wake up sometime tomorrow morning; it may take a while for the anesthesia drugs to wear off. He's in Room 38 down Corridor 11. No more than two in there at a time, and no causing stress while you're in there." She left.

"Who will take the first watch?" Shmi asked softly.

"I must thank him for my people, if only for a moment. Sabe is charading as queen right now."

"He's my master. He needs to know what happened, stress-causing or not stress-causing."

"And I have an annoying little war-hero brat of a son to find. I'll trade off with one of you in a few hours."

Padme got up and headed out.

Obi-Wan stood. "Yes," he whispered, "I think I see what he sees in you. But it is still against the Code."

"I thought I was the one seeing things in him. He certainly apologized enough for not making me see such things were impossible once we left Tatooine!" She got up, storming for the outside door.

As she left, she heard him whisper, "What have I done?"

Shmi wandered into Room 11-38 late that night.

Padme filed out at her approach. "He hasn't stirred,"she whispered. "How's Anakin?"

"Firmly placed in a windowless bedroom with two guards at the door. Worried about Qui-Gon. When he gets tired enough, he'll sleep."

"Should someone stay with him for a little while? It has to be strange, going from slave quarters to a palace in just two days..."

"Anakin should be fine. He bounces back from eveything quickly." Shmi hugged the younger woman. "For as long as I am near, if you need someone to talk to," she whispered.

Padme smiled slightly and left.

Shmi entered the room. Obi-Wan was sitting beside the bed, face faintly lit by life monitors. "He hasn't woken up, but he had a nightmare about an hour ago," the Padawan whispered. "We had to hold him down, try to calm him."

"Any clue what it was about?" she whispered, sitting on the Jedi Master's other side.

"He muttered your name. Several times. I think... I think he was dreaming you were dead." The young Jedi stared down at his feet.

Shmi finally forced herself to turn her attention to the injured Jedi lying in the bed.

There was a sheet pulled up to his upper chest, arms lying on top of it. Under, it appeared he was completely cradled in pillows. His shoulders were covered by the hint of a pink-spotted medcenter shirt, but it removed none of his dignity. The lights from the machines monitoring him flickered aross his face, the oscillation of the respiratory monitor running up and down his nose. His hair was gathered into a band and tucked gently around his face and lay there against his broad shoulder. There was an oxygen tube curled around his face. An IV line led to his left hand, lying on Shmi's side of the bed, warm tan skin against the cool, crisp whiteness of the sheets.

He moaned slightly in his sleep.

If he really does think I'm dead...

Shmi got up, then knelt at his side. She gently took his hand in one of hers, her other hand drifting to the side of his face. "Shh. Qui-Gon, this is Shmi. I don't know if you can hear me right now, but I'm okay. Obi-Wan's here too, and Padme was here a while ago. Anakin's asleep in the Palace. We're all okay. Just worry about yourself, Qui-Gon. Everything else is taking care of itself."

He almost seemed to grunt at that.

Shmi just stayed there, gently squeezing his hand. "I think he's trying to wake up, Obi-Wan."

"Just remember, we have to let it happen on his own time." He knelt as well, and Shmi saw him gently curl Qui-Gon's right hand around his braid before covering his master's hand with his own. "I'm here, Master. I'm okay and untouched. Shmi's here as well. We're anxious for you to wake up, but you just sleep as long as you need to. Agressive negotiations have been concluded; the danger is gone."

The elder Jedi's eyes drifted slightly open. "Obi-Wan?" he murmured weakly.

"Here, Master." Shmi saw the dim light glint on a tear snaking its way down the young Jedi's cheek.

The sides of Qui-Gon's mouth twitched upwards. "And our opponent?"

"His body lies on a slab, awaiting a Jedi investigation into his identity and affliations. Initial response from the Archivist is that it is likely he was Sith."

Shmi's eyes flicked down to her own two hands. I... killed a Sith? Me?

He smiled, a full smile this time, and sighed. "Good job, Padawan."

"I wasn't responsible."

Qui-Gon tried to lift his head in startlement, but Shmi reached up with her right hand and held his forehead down. "You suffered muscle damage. There is no bacta on the planet. Try to keep still; painkillers can only cover up so much."

He beamed suddenly, unguarded. "Shmi!" It was faint, but enough.

And then the Jedi emotional guards raised again. Shmi could almost see it happen. One moment he was grinning, the next he was hiding again.

His forehead bunched. "But how... what happened?"

"The Sith was going to impale you. Shmi screamed and the Sith changed his mind. Straight slash across the gut, Master, I have no clue how deep it was, I only know it took hours to piece you back together. His attention was on her. The barrier cycled, I became the greater threat, and he turned his back on a woman with a blaster rifle."

Qui-Gon's eyes went wide for a moment. "Shmi..."

"I'm fine. He never got close enough to hurt me."

"Shmi, you could've been killed!" Even in his weak voice, she could hear the fear.

Could he... could he really care?

"Master," Obi-Wan whispered, "it's..."

Suddenly, the Jedi apprentice's head was lying next to his master's right hand.

/Master, what'd you do that for?./

/Don't you dare tell me that being worried about the fate of someone who probably saved my life is against the code./

/I wasn't going to say that./

The injured Jedi Master let go of his apprentice's braid. So tired...

"Qui-Gon, you've only been out of surgery for a few hours. The medics thought you wouldn't wake up before morning." She squeezed his hand. He felt the needle move in his hand and flinched.

Shmi looked down and loosened her grip with a whimpered, "I'm sorry."

"The needle is still in the right place, and it certainly hurt less than that." He glanced down as far as he could, trying not to wonder what the uncomfortable numbness of his middle was covering up.

"Master, between last night and how long you've been unconscious today, you are still in sleep debt. You are injured. Some of the senate and the Jedi Council will be here in about a week to investigate what happened. Sleep now, worry then. The medic said she thought you'd be on bedrest for at least a month with this."

There was something in Obi-Wan's eyes, something Qui-Gon hadn't seen there before. "Padawan, what is it?"

"Nothing. Just worried about you, Master." He smiled weakly, patting Qui-Gon's hand. "But it's going to be okay now." Qui-Gon saw the younger Jedi stifle a yawn.

"Obi-Wan, you need to rest, too. You've been awake this entire time, if I know you. Go. FInd someplace more comfortable than a medcenter chair; you fought just as much as I did today."

The young Jedi got up after untangling his braid from the Master's fingers. Rest well, Master.

Rest well, Padawan.

Obi-Wan left.

"Shmi, you shouldn't have been there," he murmured.

She sat back on her heels, letting go of his forehead and hand. "So, you would have preferred to have been impaled, watch your apprentice be killed as you lay on the ground dying, and then watch from the other side as I, Padme, and everyone else on the planet were hunted down like wild animals? I may not know much about the Force or the Sith, but I know there was bloodlust in that things eyes, and it wasn't just for the blood of you two Jedi. And, for your information, I was seeking a safer place to hide when I found you all."

She saw the blood run out of his face. "You could have stayed where you were."

"Anakin was in a ship that went up on autopilot. That hanger would have been crawling again in minutes. I had to get out."

"You could have stayed silent, waited for an opening."

She was silent.

"Shmi..."

A sniffle. He saw the tears starting to roll down her cheeks. "He was going to kill you." Her head slowly lowered to the edge of the mattress. "He was going to kill you." Her shoulders shook.

He slowly moved his hand to her head, thumb resting on her cheek. "And he didn't."

She pulled away, placing his hand back on the mattress carefully as she did so, tears streaming down her face. "Don't. You. Dare. Taunt. Me. With. What. I. Can't. Have."

She feels like that? I wasn't imagining it, or wishing it? "Shmi..."

"Qui-Gon, you know this isn't possible."

"According to the rules and the current Code."

"You are not risking your way of life for me!" she quietly hissed. Something strange passed over her face. "'Current code'?"

"Before a round of editing a few hundred years ago, the Jedi Order was run a bit differently than it is now. Less centralized. Fewer rules, more feeling the Force's will. Jedi could marry, procreate, even raise and train their own children. Things changed when the Jedi aligned more closely with the Senate. I've been trying to push things back to the old ways for years. It likely would not do much damage to see if what happened here might change the answer if I ask the Council one more time."

"And if things change, Master Jedi?"

"Then I and my fellow Jedi must decide what we wish to do with our lives. And for that, I am in no condition to make any promises, Shmi. But at least we could look at each other without my Padawan and my Order calling me a code breaker."

He felt his eyes drifting closed.

She let her hand drift onto his again. "Shh. You need to rest."

"So do you. How's Anakin?"

"In a soft bed with two of the queen's best guard making sure he stays there."

He let himself smile, unable to deny that there was a soft spot in his heart for the boy. "Then go to him. You've had a hard day."

"And you've had a harder one, Qui. Someone needs to stay in the room with you at all times right now. And that reclining chair in the corner looks more comfortable than the beds in some slavequarters I've seen."

"Shmi..." he whispered as she walked around the room, moved the chair to the bedside, and settled in for the night.

"Much better than Gardulla's slavequarters."

When she was asleep, he quietly whispered, "No matter what happens, Shmi Skywalker, I swear I will never forget you."

He closed his eyes, seeking the solace of sleep's arms.

She called me Qui...

Obi-Wan lay curled up on a bed in a distant hall of the Palace, talking softly into a commlink.

"Master Yoda, I know it is late at the Temple and I know you have many things to prepare for your journey, but there is a situation here on Naboo you need to know about..."