Title: When the Master Gets Sick...
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairing: implied Qui/Obi
Disclaimer: Not my boys. Just my ficlette.
Summary: Qui-Gon has caught a cold and goes to the healing dome
Notes: This has been floating about in my head for weeks. It needed to get out.
Word Count: 1,000 words
When the Master Gets Sick...
Qui-Gon sat still, with a finger bent beneath his nose and his eyes closed. He was feeling sleepy and having to sit still like this wasn't helping. At a bit of sound, he looked up to see Tala crossing the examination room with a glass of water. He wanted to ask, but did not want to move and could not speak.
He'd reported to the healing dome only a short while ago. And after a short wait, he'd been escorted by a droid to an examination room where he declared to Tala, in a very husky voice, "I thig I hab a code." Tala had looked him over for all of a minute and a half, then had shoved a thermometer under his tongue for twice that amount of time.
The wait was brutal, made more difficult than it should have been thanks to the fact he hadn't been able to blow his nose before it began. Tala kept himself busy during the wait, however, bustling around with datapads and putting away medical instruments. He had not seen Tala look so preoccupied since his days planning and assembling parts for the Aesculapius, from staff to supplies.
Just when Qui-Gon thought Tala had forgotten he was even there, the healer approached with a glass of water and took the thermometer from Qui-Gon's mouth. He held it up to the light, regarding it for a few moments with a frown on his face.
Qui-Gon coughed and sniffled. He dug his hanky out of his pocket and held it up just in time to catch a rather full sneeze. "herrSchhhhhhhh!" He blew his nose and looked up at Tala from the hunched-over position the sneeze had thrown him into.
"You have a cold," Tala informed him.
Qui-Gon nodded. He had thought as much.
"And a fever, in addition."
Qui-Gon nodded again. That was something he hadn't expected, though now that he'd been told, he did feel a little warm in his uniform.
"So here's what I want you to do," Tala said, getting right down to business. He'd been almost silent since Qui-Gon had stepped into the room but was making up for it now. "I want you to take a pill that will start helping to lower your fever. And then I want you to go home, climb right into bed, and rest. Is that clear?"
Qui-Gon nodded, sniffled, and nodded again. He didn't feel well enough to object and explain about what he needed to get done. Especially as he didn't feel well enough to do it.
Another tickle in his nose prompted him to raise his handkerchief again. "hehhh... har-uhhKSchhhhhh! EhhhTchhhhh!" He blew his nose hard with a less than pleasant sound.
"I do hate to ask," Tala said as Qui-Gon wiped his nose dry and then took the pill from him. Qui-Gon swallowed it down with a few gulps of water. "But when the master gets sick, the padawan is not far to follow. How is Obi-Wan?"
Qui-Gon stopped drinking halfway through the glass and shook his head. "Thagfully, he's away. Badawad retreat this weekedd." Before Tala could ask, "Add I dod't wadt hib to dow I'b sig. He would worry."
"I see," Tala said, his tone softening. "So there's no one who can take care of you here? One of the other masters?"
"Albost all of theb are accobadyig the badawads. I just stayed to oversee the iditiate selectiod cerebody breberatiods." He coughed from congestion and drank some more, not sure Tala had followed anything he'd said anyway. Qui-Gon considered blowing his nose and repeating it all, but from his expression Tala seemed to have gotten the gist.
"You need to be woken up to take the medicine every hour," Tala explained. "And as we can't spare any droids at the moment... I suppose I shall just have to do it myself."
Qui-Gon looked at him curiously.
"Would you mind staying here in the ward for a little while? At least until your fever goes down."
Qui-Gon shook his head to indicate he wouldn't mind. "But you're busy, ared't you? You have better thigs to do thad to tage care ob be."
With a sigh, "Of course I don't. I'm never too busy to look after a friend. Even without the medication, you look like you need someone to keep an eye on you while you're not feeling well. I'm glad to do it, Qui-Gon." Qui-Gon smiled weakly. "Now, let me find you a bed. You look exhausted."
Obediently, Qui-Gon hopped down from the examination table. Tala led him down the hall to one of the private rooms which had a bed made up. The sheets were bright white and the blankets a dark green, but the bed itself looked comfortable and he was eager to lie down. But first Tala made him change into standard issue pajamas and two pairs of socks.
Tala tucked him into bed, bringing the blankets up past his neck to his shoulders. "Okay," he said, pulling back. "Now I want you to use these if you have to sneeze," he said, moving a box of tissues from the bottom shelf of the bedside table to the top, within reach of Qui-Gon. "And I want you to give me a call if you need anything. But most of all, I want you to get some sleep."
Qui-Gon nodded and Tala left the room, keeping the door open a crack. It wasn't as comfortable and certainly not familiar like his bed. Not to mention that it was empty apart from him. But before he could fall asleep, he reached out for the tissues. His breath caught, and he shut his eyes tightly as he cupped the tissues to his face. "ehhhPShhhhhh! hehhh-Tchuhhhhh!" He dropped the tissues over the side of the bed towards the trash can and plucked out a few more for the eventuality of sneezing again. But as he drifted off to sleep, his hand released the tissues and he relaxed fully.