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Anakin's duffel bag sat in the doorway where he had dropped it upon entering. So far, Anakin had shown no inclination to move or unpack it, but Obi-Wan didn't have the energy to be annoyed.
Obi-Wan's hair was still damp from his session with Bant at the Temple pools, but he couldn't find the wherewithal to wash and dry it without Qui-Gon's assistance. So instead, he sat and tried to read the holobook in his lap. Even keeping his vision in focus was taking a concerted effort tonight. He occasionally took sips of the supplement drink sitting beside him, hoping that if he could finish it, Qui-Gon wouldn't give him a hard time about eating a real dinner.
The task of marshaling his brain to stay focused was finally becoming easier as he became immersed in the political thriller Siri had lent him last week.
Then suddenly–
"You left the tap running," said Anakin, pulling Obi-Wan out of the narrative again.
Anger flashed across Obi-Wan's mind, followed by the slower waves of frustration and shame that rose up in his throat like bile. He swallowed.
"Then turn it off please, Anakin," he said with forced calm.
This was why Qui-Gon could hardly bear to leave him alone to run a few errands, he thought bitterly. After all this time, he still got simple, repetitive tasks mixed up easily or did the steps out of order. Che and Qui-Gon would’ve said something about the futility of comparing his baseline of functioning to anybody else’s, but Obi-Wan wasn’t in the mood to make the effort of recontextualizing his own thoughts.
Anakin shut off the water a little more forcefully than necessary. Obi-Wan heard him slam his mug on the table, and the sound of the chair scraping along the floor.
"Could you please keep it down?" Obi-Wan called out.
Anakin sighed in reply.
Obi-Wan sighed himself as returned to his book. He reread the last sentence for the third time, trying to reimmerse himself.
A half turn later, a soft click drew both of their eyes to the door. Qui-Gon entered, his arms laden with tin containers with brightly-colored logos, definitely not the Temple commissary food he'd said he was going to pick up.
"Surprise," he said as he toed off his boots, smearing mud across the mat. "Anakin, could you come take the food to the table?" Anakin’s expression brightened as he dutifully brought the parcels to the kitchen table so that Qui-Gon’s hands were free to take off his wet cloak.
Qui-Gon nudged Anakin's duffel bag with his socked foot. "And take your things to your room, please."
Anakin’s frown returned as he obliged.
"How was P.T. today?" Qui-Gon asked as he crossed the living area.
Obi-Wan shrugged. "Fine. Tiring."
Qui-Gon sat down on the ottoman to look Obi-Wan more carefully in the eyes. He took in Obi-Wan's unwashed hair and the supplement drink on the armrest, and seemed to understand. "Will you at least come sit at the table with us? I thought we could celebrate Anakin's first night here."
Obi-Wan nodded.
Qui-Gon gestured for Anakin to sit as he set plates and cups down on the table. "This is from that Coreillian place that Mace has been mentioning," Qui-Gon explained. "I picked up several different things to try. You might like this one, Anakin, it's a noodle dish that's supposed to be a little milder."
"Thanks, Master Qui-Gon," said Anakin, with less sunshine than usual.
Obi-Wan maneuvered his hoverchair to the table, and politely put a small spoonful of Coriellian nerf risotto onto his plate.
It was nothing new really, considering how often Anakin had been visiting and spending the night lately. But today, he had officially moved out of his room in the creche.
"Alright," said Qui-Gon after several minutes had passed. "Is something wrong?"
Obi-Wan looked at Anakin, mostly to deflect the attention from himself.
Anakin shook his head, twirling his noodles around and around his fork.
"Anakin?" Qui-Gon prompted.
"Does this mean I have to move to the advanced saber class?" Anakin asked.
"What, moving out of the creche? No, why do you ask?"
Anakin shrugged. "When Ferus became a padawan, he switched all of his courses."
"Who?"
"His old roommate from the creche," Obi-Wan explained. "He's training under Siri Tachi now."
"Ah," said Qui-Gon. "I think you're not quite ready for a padawan-level saber class yet, Anakin. It can wait a little longer."
"But why is Ferus doing things different? I thought everybody took the same courses."
"In the creche, that's true," said Qui-Gon. "Around your age, sometimes padawans start to adjust their focus to prepare for their intended course of study. I imagine Master Tachi wants Ferus to have a strong background in his saber work and diplomatic relations, if he is to become a Jedi Knight."
Anakin bit his lip.
"Anakin, do you remember when we talked about how your education is a little bit special?" Qui-Gon placated. "There is no timetable for you to catch up to your agemates. It's alright that you're not quite ready to start on the Knighthood track, you can stay in the initiate saber class for as long as you need."
"Okay, Master," said Anakin, still looking subdued.
Remarkably, they passed the rest of the meal without Qui-Gon making any more comments on Obi-Wan's appetite or Anakin's lack of cheerfulness. After tea, Anakin volunteered to put away the leftovers while Qui-Gon followed Obi-Wan to the fresher to help him bathe and get ready for bed.
Obi-Wan made a faithful effort not to be grumpy as Qui-Gon made his way through the familiar routine, lathering shampoo through his hair then carefully rinsing it out. So often, Qui-Gon's steady hands were a welcome touch, and a comforting one, but tonight Obi-Wan felt like crawling out of his skin. The pain which was usually a dull, constant ache was making itself loud and hard to ignore today, and it chafed that he was too tired from therapy to even assist with some of the tasks the way he could on a good day.
Qui-Gon allowed the silence to linger between them until Obi-Wan was out of the bath. "Do you want to sleep with the brace on tonight?" he asked quietly.
Obi-Wan nodded his head sharply.
Once Obi-Wan was dressed in his sleep clothes, Qui-Gon stepped out to get his evening medications ready and Anakin entered to brush his teeth while Obi-Wan did the same. They made eye contact in the mirror, and Anakin quickly looked away.
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.
"Do you miss your friends in the creche, Anakin?" he asked.
Anakin shrugged.
Something else must be on his mind. Obi-Wan returned to putting his toothbrush away.
"My courses definitely aren't going to change?" Anakin asked, interrupting his thoughts.
"Not yet, not that I'm aware of," said Obi-Wan.
"But I'm officially a padawan now?"
Obi-Wan ignored the feeling that twisted in his gut at those words. "It's a little complicated, Anakin, but I think functionally that's true. Is that what you're worried about?"
Anakin glanced towards the door, as if checking that no one was coming down the hall. "It's kind of something that Master Qui-Gon said. About how I don't have to start picking courses for the Knighthood track yet."
Obi-Wan rubbed his chin. "You don't have to decide right away what path your training will take, if that's what's bothering you. I suppose Qui-Gon has been assuming that you'd have the same goals as he and I d-did." Obi-Wan stumbled only briefly before landing on the past tense. Although the day-to-day of it all often distracted him from thinking too far ahead, it was always uncomfortable to be reminded of the future he'd envisioned for himself as an able-bodied Jedi Knight.
"But I have to know soon?"
Obi-Wan gave another thoughtful sigh. "Typically, padawans your age have a general idea of what type of education they intend to pursue. But nothing is really typical about this situation."
It came out more bitterly than he intended, and Obi-Wan resolved to just go to bed before he hurt someone's feelings.
"Anyways, it's not unheard of for padawans to change their minds. In fact, I know a few Jedi who decided to take up a new course of study in the middle of their careers. It's not the end of the world," Obi-Wan said. He moved behind Anakin towards the door.
"Welcome home, Anakin," he said warmly as he turned towards the bedroom where Qui-Gon was waiting.
…
Obi-Wan took his pills and hypospray in silence and allowed Qui-Gon to lift him into bed.
"I know this transition has not been easy for you," said Qui-Gon softly, laying his own head on the adjacent pillow.
"It's not that," Obi-Wan mumbled. It was half a lie, but he didn't want Qui-Gon to think that he was jealous, or to give voice to any of the self-pitying thoughts he'd been trying to banish from his mind.
"No?" said Qui-Gon skeptically.
Obi-Wan shook his head.
"I believe that he is ready for this step, and that it will be good for all of us," Qui-Gon said. "But it is important to me that you know I am still here for you."
"Ugh," Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at being spoken to like a child.
Qui-Gon pressed a kiss into Obi-Wan's forehead, and went to sleep.
…
Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were jolted awake in the middle of the night by sounds of distress coming from the other side of the wall. Obi-Wan turned his head slowly, mindful of his sore muscles.
It sounded like sniffling or hiccuping. Qui-Gon rolled over, and their eyes met.
The sounds died down, and for a moment, they both wondered whether Anakin would go back to sleep. Then the sniffling began again in earnest.
"I'll go check on him," Qui-Gon whispered.
While Qui-Gon was gone, the sniffling turned into shallow coughing. Obi-Wan could hear their muffled voices, although he couldn't make out the words.
Qui-Gon returned, shutting the bedroom door silently and slipping back under the covers. "He wasn't crying. I think he's coming down with a bit of a cold."
"Okay," Obi-Wan yawned.
"Good night again, dearest."
…
When Obi-Wan awoke the next morning, every muscle in his body was sore and stiff, and the other side of the bed was empty. He checked the time–it was several hours later than he'd intended to sleep.
He quickly realized what had woken him. He heard loud, hoarse coughing coming through the bedroom door, which had been left ajar.
"Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan called out.
After a few moments, Anakin appeared in the doorway, glassy-eyed.
"He said he'd be back soon," Anakin rasped. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," said Obi-Wan quickly. "Are you okay?" He beckoned for Anakin to come closer.
"Master Qui-Gon said I could stay home from class today," said Anakin.
"That's good. Are you resting?"
"He said I could watch cartoons."
Obi-Wan smiled.
"Do you need help getting up?" asked Anakin.
"It can wait for Qui-Gon."
"What about your meds?"
Obi-Wan sighed. "Sure."
He allowed Anakin to bring him his pill case and double check the doses as he took them. "What about you?" he asked Anakin. "Have you taken anything for that cough?"
Anakin screwed up his face slightly as he nodded.
“Can you read to me? The pirate story from the other night?”
Obi-Wan almost said yes, but he wasn’t sure he could handle it before his medications kicked in. He was paying dearly for pushing himself too hard yesterday, and he wasn’t sure how well he would be able to focus on a book.
"Want to bring the holoprojector in here and watch together instead?" Obi-Wan suggested.
"Okay!" Anakin scurried to the living room and back, and busied himself with setting up the projector on the trunk at the foot of the bed.
Anakin crawled up onto Qui-Gon's side of the bed, and snuggled up to Obi-Wan's shoulder. He was always a little tentative when initiating contact, probably afraid of causing Obi-Wan pain with any sudden movement. Obi-Wan tried to put an arm around him to reassure him.
"You're really burning up," said Obi-Wan in surprise as his hand brushed against Anakin's skin. Anakin snuggled in closer.
It was less cozy than Obi-Wan had imagined, with frequent coughing fits interrupting them. Several episodes of Anakin's starfighter holocartoon later, Qui-Gon returned from his meeting. He knocked on the bedroom door as a gentle greeting while he entered.
"How are you two doing?" he asked.
Anakin looked up blearily.
"His fever's gotten quite high, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan said.
Qui-Gon made a concerned sound in the back of his throat and came to sit on the edge of the bed. He felt Anakin's forehead with the back of his hand and frowned.
"Is it worse?" Anakin rasped.
"Yes, quite a bit worse than this morning," Qui-Gon replied. He opened one of the bedside drawers, which were filled with various medical equipment of Obi-Wan's. He rifled through the mess until he found a basic first aid kit and took out the thermometer.
Anakin held the thermometer under his tongue until it beeped, then handed it back.
Qui-Gon's worried expression deepened. "I think we may actually need to pay the healers a visit," he said.
Anakin grimaced.
"I'll comm them in a moment and make you an appointment. And how are you feeling?"
Without waiting for an answer, Qui-Gon placed a hand on Obi-Wan's forehead too, then moved it to the side of his neck.
"I'm okay," said Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow.
"I overdid it yesterday at the pools," he admitted. "I'm just sore."
There was always something. Qui-Gon left them both to go back to resting, and sent the necessary messages to the healer's wing.
…
"Tylaniian Measles," was the healer’s pronouncement.
“You’re joking,” said Qui-Gon.
“I’m afraid not. We’ve come a long way towards eradicating it, but there are still a few hundred cases per year on Coruscant. Usually in infants too young to get the vaccine…”
Or children from the Outer Rim who grew up without such luxuries. Anakin grimaced. He was caught up on most of his immunizations by now, but there were a few left that he'd get over the next few years.
Qui-Gon squeezed Anakin's shoulder. "That can be quite serious, can it not?"
The healer shook her head. "We have antivirals that are very effective at preventing the telltale rash and other side effects. It's going to feel like a severe flu, but nothing more. I'd like to keep you here in the Halls, at least until we get your temperature down, does that sound alright?" she looked from Anakin to Qui-Gon, who nodded.
“Anakin, have you visited the infant crèche in the last few days?”
Anakin shook his head no.
“How about spending time with any humans who are very old, or chronically ill?”
Anakin looked at Qui-Gon, eyes widening.
“Who?” Qui-Gon started to say, then he interrupted himself, “Oh no,”
The healer nodded. “Obi-Wan was exposed?”
“I slept in his bed,” Anakin whispered.
"It's alright," she said quickly. "Given his situation, he should probably take a course of antivirals too. I'll ask Che to check in with you later."
If it wasn't one thing, it was another. Qui-Gon stayed close by as Anakin got settled, keeping an eye on the chrono. Obi-Wan could certainly be alone for an hour or two, but longer than that and Qui-Gon tended to get nervous.
The sights and sounds of the Halls of Healing still brought Qui-Gon's thoughts back to a much darker time. The room where Anakin was brought was nothing like the one that Obi-Wan had occupied for many months - aside from a single cart with monitors and the strong energy of calm and healing in the Force, it could almost be a normal bedroom. A padawan brought Anakin his first dose of antiviral medication and a strong fever reducer, and suggested that he either do a quiet activity or try to sleep.
Qui-Gon's instincts urged him to stay, but also to hurry back to the apartment. Once Anakin had dozed off, the decision was easier. He left his comm frequency on the bedside tray just in case Anakin couldn't remember it, and made his way back home.
To Qui-Gon's relief, Obi-Wan had already fixed himself lunch, although the cooling unit door was a few centimeters ajar. Qui-Gon shut it without drawing attention, even as a fresh wave of worry gripped his heart, that Obi-Wan was still struggling with his working memory this way. Forgetting the faucet or the cooling unit door was fairly innocuous, if a bit wasteful, but he worried that one day Obi-Wan could leave the stove on or take a double dose of meds. Obi-Wan had made a lot of strides towards gaining back some independence, but this was still a hurdle.
"Is Anakin alright?" Obi-Wan asked when he saw that Qui-Gon had returned alone.
"He will be," Qui-Gon confirmed quickly before he delved into explaining the details.
A few hours later, Che left a message confirming that Obi-Wan should take the same medication as Anakin to help compensate for his weakened immune system. Obi-Wan grumbled a little bit about feeling fine, but Qui-Gon could tell he wasn't really upset.
Qui-Gon made his way back to the Halls to check on Anakin and pick up Obi-Wan’s pills. He arrived to find Anakin in a much worse mood than before.
"Hi, Master Qui-Gon," he whispered, wincing at the pain in his throat. He was curled up in a ball under several blankets.
"Hi, Ani," Qui-Gon whispered back, sitting down on the bed. He brushed Anakin's hair away from his forehead, noting that his fever was no longer so alarmingly high, but he was still shivering.
"I'm sorry you're feeling so unwell," said Qui-Gon. "Can I get you anything? Some water, perhaps?"
There was a cup of water already on the bedside tray. Anakin accepted a sip when Qui-Gon held it out to him, but then slumped back into the pillows and seemed disinclined to try again.
"I don't feel good," Anakin whined.
"I know. You will feel better soon."
"Will you stay until I fall asleep again?"
Qui-Gon hummed in agreement. He hadn't planned on leaving Obi-Wan for long, but he reached for his commlink and sent a quick ping to Obi-Wan, and another to Mace.
Qui-Gon stayed by his side, stroking his hair in the soothing way that usually worked when Anakin had had a nightmare, but he couldn't seem to get back to sleep.
Qui-Gon's commlink silently flashed.
[I can be there by 1900. Can I bring Obi-Wan something for dinner?]
[Thank you. There are lots of leftovers in the cooling unit that you both are welcome to.]
It still didn't feel right to be so far out of Obi-Wan's reach. He knew there were things that Obi-Wan would be hesitant to ask for Mace's help with. But it hadn't felt right to be at home while Anakin was at the healer's either.
Anakin rolled from back onto his side, tucking one hand up under the pillow. "My chest hurts," he complained. "And my nose."
"I'm sorry," said Qui-Gon. "Why don't we put something on the holoprojector? You can try to sleep again in a little while."
"I guess,” Anakin sniffled.
The healers did what they were able to keep Anakin comfortable, but Qui-Gon gathered that essentially all they could do was alleviate the symptoms while they waited for the virus to pass. When it grew late, Qui-Gon had a quiet conversation with the healer on duty before he said goodnight to Anakin and excused himself.
At the apartment, Mace greeted him at the door.
"He's alright, Qui-Gon, but he's started sniffling and sneezing over the past few hours. I believe he thinks I haven't noticed."
Qui-Gon held back an exasperated groan. This was the last thing Obi-Wan needed.
"Thank you for keeping him company," said Qui-Gon.
Mace was right. Obi-Wan had a box of tissues in his lap, and was going through them at an alarming rate.
After they had avoided talking about it for what Qui-Gon deemed long enough, he finally asked, "Would you like to comm Master Che, or shall I?"
"Neither," said Obi-Wan flatly.
"Just to let her know that you're a bit under the weather, and that you were exposed to Anakin earlier. It may be nothing, but she might still want to see you just to watch for any sign of complications."
"I don't need any more healer's appointments."
"Obi-Wan,"
"Don't," Obi-Wan interrupted. "Don't take that tone."
Qui-Gon sighed. He couldn't exactly drag a grown adult to the healer's wing. Perhaps it could wait unless Obi-Wan's symptoms grew worrisome.
"Why don't you take a decongestant before bed?"
To this, Obi-Wan agreed.
For the second night in a row, Qui-Gon was suddenly jolted awake at a disorienting hour. This time, it was Obi-Wan shaking his arm. As Qui-Gon came to, he managed to make out what Obi-Wan was gesturing urgently towards - the wastebasket under the bedside table. Qui-Gon promptly handed it over.
When Obi-Wan was done retching, Qui-Gon brought him a damp cloth and felt his forehead again. He was feverishly warm, and his sleep shirt was soaked in sweat.
"Well, you have seemed tired for the past few days. Perhaps this is why."
"I'm immunized against Tylaniian measles," Obi-Wan growled through a scratchy throat.
"Yes, and hopefully that means you won't become as ill as Anakin was last night. But some of your regular meds reduce your body's ability to–"
"I know," Obi-Wan snapped.
"We do have to talk to your healers now," said Qui-Gon.
"I know."
“I’m sending Che a note so she’ll get it first thing in the morning.”
Obi-Wan continued to drowse off between vomiting spells until daybreak, when Che replied to recommend they come in and see the next available healer, and she would check in when she could.
Packing a bag for a healer's visit was second nature now. Qui-Gon collected all the items on autopilot - handwritten notes about medication schedules, holobooks, earbuds, toothbrushes, snacks, one of the nice, heavy blankets, and a change of clothes just in case. This time he added some duraplast bags in case they were needed en route.
So early in the morning, they didn't have to wait long before Obi-Wan was ushered into an exam room. Healer Winna confirmed the diagnosis of Tylaniian Measles, and told them exactly what they were hoping not to hear – that Obi-Wan was dehydrated, and would need to stay and be monitored until the nausea was under control.
"It will just be for a little while," Qui-Gon said under his breath.
Obi-Wan gave him a sharp glare, bristling again at being coddled, but he said nothing.
It was difficult for him, Qui-Gon knew. Obi-Wan had fought so hard for every modicum of control he had over his own life, and every inch of ground he had gained since leaving the Halls for the first time. He had been back of course, for appointments many times per week and several follow-up procedures on his spine. But even these surgeries had mostly been done on an outpatient basis, allowing Obi-Wan to recover in their own quarters. He hoped that today would go similarly - spending the night here again would be a serious blow.
Obi-Wan sat quietly, just the tiniest bit sullen, and allowed Winna to set up monitors and insert an IV line. Qui-Gon took his hand and squeezed it.
"I'm sorry I've been grumpy," Obi-Wan mumbled.
"You needn't apologize," said Qui-Gon. "I–"
Luminara appeared in the doorway.
"Master Jinn? Anakin Skywalker is asking for you. He's alright, um, just a little homesick I think."
Qui-Gon met Obi-Wan’s eyes, looking torn.
"There's a reason it's forbidden for a master to train two padawans," Obi-Wan said hoarsely. "It's okay. You can go to him."
"My sweet, selfless boy," Qui-Gon whispered, placing a kiss on Obi-Wan's forehead. "I will return within the hour."
"He did very well overnight," Luminara explained as they walked towards Anakin's room. "He's going to be achy and not feel very well for a week or so, but the worst of it has probably passed."
Anakin's eyes were red-rimmed, whether from the fever or from tears it was hard to guess. He sat up and gave a little wave when he saw Qui-Gon.
"Master Qui-Gon, can we go home?" he asked plaintively.
"Soon," said Qui-Gon with a sideways glance at Luminara, who nodded.
"Maybe even this afternoon," she added cheerfully.
"Good," said Qui-Gon. "Fingers crossed, I'll have both of you in your own beds tonight."
"I got Obi-Wan sick?" Anakin asked.
"Yes, but it's not your fault, Ani. Are you feeling any better?"
"I guess. I–"
Anakin interrupted himself with a sudden hiccup which turned into a loud, painful coughing fit. Qui-Gon reached out to rub his shoulder comfortingly.
As Anakin gasped for air, Qui-Gon felt Luminara gently touch his elbow, gesturing from him to step out of her way. She placed her palm on Anakin's chest, and her other hand on his upper arm. The spasming coughs slowed until Anakin slumped sideways into Qui-Gon.
Anakin swallowed hard before he spoke. "How did you do that?"
Luminara smiled. "It's just like anything else in the Force. It's about gently nudging the right muscles to relax.
Anakin rubbed at his nose again and smiled weakly. "That's wizard!"
“Happy to help.”
Qui-Gon alternated between the two rooms throughout the day. While Anakin grew steadily perkier and more restless, Obi-Wan mostly slept. He managed to take a bit of food, which seemed like a good sign. Qui-Gon worried that this illness was going to hit him harder for the fact that his body already had so much to contend with.
It would be alright. This would be a temporary setback. Ideally, as temporary as possible.
He cornered Healer Winna in the hallway as she was organizing notes on her datapad.
"Obi-Wan's been keeping some water and crackers down for a few hours. I was hoping I could move him back to our quarters and keep an eye on him there once he's finished this round of IV fluids."
Winna shook her head. "He's been responding well with the anti-nausea meds in his system, sure. I'll need to see how he does as they start to wear off."
Qui-Gon started preparing to argue, but she continued.
"I know he's eager to sleep in his own bed tonight. I'll keep you updated, alright?"
Qui-Gon nodded his thanks.
Anakin was fully awake and chatting Luminara's ear off by evening, and although Obi-Wan still felt feverish and ill, he hadn't vomited in a full twelve hours. Finally, Qui-Gon managed to secure both of their release, with strict instructions to comm immediately if Obi-Wan showed any sign of getting worse.
The arduous journey home passed in just a few moments. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan went straight to the bedroom and began maneuvering Obi-Wan into bed with no need for verbal discussion. Anakin scurried over to assist, but couldn’t think of anything to do except rearrange the covers, pulling the blankets up to Obi-Wan’s lap. Obi-Wan heaved a sigh of relief when it was all finished.
Anakin remained kneeling on Qui-Gon’s side of the bed. "Master Qui-Gon, since we're both already sick, can I stay in here?" he asked.
"That depends," said Qui-Gon. He turned to Obi-Wan. "Would you rather have quiet so you can rest?"
"No, it's okay," said Obi-Wan. “I don’t think I can sleep.. Could you help me sit up a little more?”
If sleep wasn’t an option, resting quietly in bed was almost as good. He glanced at the stack of holobooks on the bedside table: the thriller he had been working on the night before, and the space pirate adventure he’d been reading aloud to Anakin.
“Anakin,” he said as Qui-Gon was helping him rearrange the pillows to prop himself up. “If you want, maybe I could try to read to you from our book. For a little while?"
Qui-Gon frowned. "Why don't I read it?" he suggested. "So you two can rest your eyes."
Obi-Wan smiled. “We’d just finished Chapter Seven,” he said.
“Eight?” said Anakin tentatively.
“Hmm. Perhaps you’re right.”
Obi-Wan shut his eyes and leaned back into the pillows, and Anakin curled up against his side again. Qui-Gon picked up the holobook from the bedside table, flipped the power switch, and began.