Two Halfs of One Warrior • Obikin/Vaderwan One-Shots

The Force Wills It

• Summary: Anakin is still in the Halls of Healing recovering from losing his arm when it is revealed that he's pregnant. Obi-Wan is devastated as he always hoped that Anakin would one day be his mate and demands to know who the father is. He's a little shocked when Anakin tells him that he's a virgin.

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Obi-Wan both couldn’t bring himself to look at Anakin’s right arm and yet couldn’t bring himself to look away either.

He was ashamed of himself. He knew that he was making Anakin’s ampu – what had happened to Anakin – all about himself and his guilt about his role in it and all the things he would have done differently to avoid it from happening if he had his time again but somehow, he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

He felt like he’d been free falling since he’d opened his eyes and seen Anakin curled up in pain and missing his arm and he was still waiting to hit the ground. He never seem to adjust or grow used to this new reality either. It kept hitting him over and over again and had started visiting him in his dreams. Lately, he’d find himself turning his head to look at his Padawan, only to have his gaze drawn to his severed arm before he awoke with a sweaty, heart-jolting start.

This had led to another wave of guilt that he hadn’t been more sympathetic when Anakin had told him about his nightmares. Dreams pass, in time. That’s what he had said. He’d know better now. He’d know that the promise of them passing was little comfort when you were in the midst of you. When they were torturing you nightly.

He had thought, or maybe hoped, that it would be better when Anakin had finally been fitted with his prosthetic. But just when he’d been informed that the procedure had been a success and that maybe this whole ordeal was over – except, it wasn’t over, it would never be over because Anakin’s arm was lost forever and every time Obi-Wan looked at him he’d be reminded of that and of how he wasn’t able to protect him – Anakin had woken up and vomited violently for the past forty-eight hours.

It was absolutely horrendous. Obi-Wan had honestly thought nothing could be worse than watching Anakin cry as he curled over the toilet, his whole body heaving as food and bile burned its way up his throat. But that was before it had kept going until Anakin was too exhausted to sit, and was reduced to barely being able to turn his head to the side as brown-orange stomach acid poured from his lips.

Finally, Healer Che had him put on a drip that gently inserted anti-nausea medication and mildly sedated him to give his body a rest.

"It’s an infection, isn’t it?" Obi-Wan asked, feeling like his own stomach is crawling up his esophagus. "The wound’s gone septic?"

Healer Che shook her head. "We checked for that and no, his wound is healing nicely."

Obi-Wan felt a little faint with relief. He’d spent much of the past two days reading, trying to find out as much as he possibly can about amputations and prosthetic limbs. He needed to be prepared. He needed to know what Anakin was going through so that he could properly support him through it. If, during his searches, he somehow found a way to make himself okay with what happened – what he failed to prevent happening – well, then that would be all the better. He wasn’t holding out hope though. It felt like a guilt that one endured rather than moved through.

Maybe that was okay. The burning guilt in his heart and his gut would provide a constant reminder that he needed to do better, be better. Anything for Anakin. Besides, if Anakin had to live with the consequences forever, it felt only fair that Obi Wan did too. Fitting, somehow.

He knew enough to know that sepsis was bad. Even if it was not fatal, which it was often enough to be a viable concern, it almost always required more flesh and bone needing to be amputated and he didn’t want Anakin to have to go through more damage and more surgery. He just wanted him to be left alone now. To recover as best he could.