Title: The Thoughts of Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, During a Snowstorm while Sick with a Cold
Fandom: Star Wars
Disclaimer: NOT my characters!
Please don't sue me!
Summary: Part of a multi-fandom series of stories with similar titles (which sort of explains it all)
The Thoughts of Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, During a Snowstorm while Sick with a Cold
I wish the healer would leave. She's out in the common room now, speaking with Qui-Gon. My master called her because he was worried about my sniffles getting worse and us being cut off from the healing dome during the snowstorm. But he needn't have bothered. I don't need medicine or more healing trances. Those don't help my nose at all. What helps is my master holding his large handkerchiefs to my nose and patting my back when I sneeze out all the sneezes I have in me.
I wish the healer would leave. It's obvious the only reason she's still here is because she's keen on Qui-Gon. She's flirting and giggling and patting his leg comfortingly. I can't imagine he really likes that, but I can't see him. The door to my chamber is only open a crack and I can only see her. There are rules about this sort of thing, about proper protocols when one's padawan catches a cold. I understand why he needed to call her. But what I need is to crawl out of my bed and into my master's. He can hold me tight to warm me and pet me everywhere to comfort me.
I wish the healer would leave. I can't stay awake too much longer, even with the tickles plaguing my nose. The snow falling outside my window makes my eyes tired and my eyelids droop. I try to fight it. I'm a good fighter, but I am tired. So tired. Sleep will help me feel better, but I don't care so much about feeling better if my master isn't going to be here with me.
I wish the healer would leave. I have to sneeze, and I don't want her listening. She'll come in and fuss and say I should have been asleep. But I can't help a sneeze. I'm sick, after all. And I really need… oh… got to sneeze… right now. No stopping it. Here it comes!
There it was. Right into Qui-Gon's hanky. I sniffle and look up at him, my nose still buried in the folds. How had he known? How did he get to me so quickly? And where's the healer? Has she gone finally or is it just that I can't see her through the open doorway?
“Shhh, Padawan Mine. Blow your nose and I'll take you to bed.”
His free hand strokes my head as my nose gurgles. Then he scoops me up with the Force and the blankets and takes me right to his big bed. He's so warm beside me, cuddled right up to me, hugging so tightly. I hope this cold lasts forever and he never leaves.