Star Wars One-Shots

It Will Pass In Time

Qui-Gon opens his eyes, hearing loud retching nearby. Swiftly, he sits up and looks to his left, checking where his padawan should be fast asleep. Instead, he finds an empty sleeping bag thrown hastily to the side. Without much thought, he scrambles to his feet.

He grabs a dim lantern and pushes himself out of the tent. He searches for his missing padawan, fear somewhat clouding his thoughts. He freezes, spotting him just a few feet around the corner. Yet another round of gags begins, making Qui-Gon's own stomach churn. His back is to him, so Qui-Gon can't see much besides him leaning over. "Obi-Wan?" He calls out, cautiously stepping towards him.

After heaving up all that was in his stomach, he wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his robe. Hands now resting on his knees, Obi-Wan softly pants. "I'm sorry, Master. I didn't mean to wake you." He says with a slight tremble in his voice.

"Are you okay?"

Obi-Wan is silent. He doesn't know what to say. What has just happened is so new and terrifying. Does he bring it up? He has only known Qui-Gon for a few years, their bond just starting to form. He's not sure he's quite ready to tackle this new problem with him.

The only conversations currently being made are between the crickets around them. A few bugs begin to flutter to the lantern in Qui-Gon's hand. He resists the urge to shoo them away. After all, they're not harmful. They're just annoying.

He takes another step to his padawan. "Are you sick? Was it something you ate that made your stomach upset?"

"No." Obi-Wan breathes with a shake of his head.

Qui-Gon pauses for a moment. Obi-Wan must be lying. Though they haven't been together long, his padawan has become known for avoiding injuries and illnesses. Qui-Gon has always assumed that it has something to do with Obi-Wan wanting to prove that he's strong, that he can handle himself. It's never been proven of course, but it's a solid guess. Every time it happens, Qui-Gon explains to him that injuries are not signs of weakness. Yet the cycle just begins again the next time.

"If you are sick, it's nothing to be ashamed of, my padawan." He begins. He takes another step forward. This time, the smell makes him cringe. He's not sure how long Obi-Wan's been out here emptying his stomach. But it smells terrible and he's sure the taste is unbearable for Obi-Wan. "Why don't we go back to bed and I'll find you something to settle your stomach?"

"No," Obi-Wan argues, his shoulders tensing. "I'm not sick and I don't want to go back to bed."

This is different. Usually, Obi-Wan agrees. He never admits that he's sick, but he allows Qui-Gon to treat him. "What has happened, Obi-Wan?" He cautiously asks.

Again, Obi-Wan remains silent.

Qui-Gon lets out a soft sigh, sagging his shoulders. He doesn't want this fight, not now. The dew from the wet grass is soaking his socks. The bugs around the lantern are tickling his hand. The smell is overwhelming and he's plain tired. Obi-Wan's silent treatment is just the tipping point. "Please, Obi-Wan. Face me and let's talk about this."

When he eventually turns, Qui-Gon notices his trembling hands. Obi-Wan tries to tuck them into his robes, but he's too slow. His bloodshot eyes make Qui-Gon's stomach drop and he's a lot more worried now than before. He's lost for words for a moment before asking, "What's wrong?"

Obi-Wan seems to choke on his words. "I had a nightmare."

"A nightmare?" He repeats.

The sixteen-year-old nods. His bites on his lower lip, clearing trying to hold in his emotions. Qui-Gon can feel the fear and sadness radiating off of the boy. Whatever he dreamt must have spooked him good. "It was just a nightmare, Obi-Wan. You know it can't hurt you."