Shuffling
slowly to his foot and trying to hold his balance without grabbing
onto anything just yet, Qui-Gon let out a deep cleansing breath and
accepted the crutches from the healer, sending Terza a little smile
before carefully taking a step with them with
his new cybernetic arm.

He
was still uncertain if he was going to get himself a prosthetic leg
but at this point he was leaning towards a yes because the idea of
being restrained to crutches for the rest of his life was a daunting
one.

He’d
seen a few Jedi who had, quietly complaining about the calluses in
their hands, the sore skin while getting used to the crutches but
what struck Qui-Gon the most was the complains about not having his
hands free.

The
idea that he couldn’t carry around his own tea was not one he liked
and he didn’t want to impose on others to do his work when he had
the option of getting a fake limb. Not everyone had that but he did.

There
was a little chirping noise and he looked behind himself with
his remaining eye,
giving Obi-Wan a smile as the other sat on the bed with their
stuffies in his lap, the redhead watching him in concern. “I’m
alright Obi-Wan, its just taking me a moment.” He assured the other
while stroking the bond between them.

Obi-Wan
could actually speak, it was just…

Not
when others were in the room.

If
it was just Anakin or Ahsoka then Obi-Wan would speak but when others
he did not really know were around he would fall mute and go back to
the little noises he used to have. But at least it meant that Obi-Wan
wasn’t fully mute and he would actually leave Qui-Gon’s line of
sight to go to the fresher so he wasn’t as bad off as when he had
been found or as bad as they had feared it.

Actually
if Qui-Gon was to comment, nothing was as bad as they had feared.

For
some reason there was now a quietness in the war that seemed so at
odds with what it had been and the fact that Palpatine was involved
with the CSI was now undeniable to the Jedi at least though he
understood from Mace that the Senate was also slowly coming to that
realization. ‘A Sith lord at the heart of the Republic, leading us
into a war… one can wonder what the end goal was suppose to be.’
Qui-Gon mused as he stepped around on the crutches.

He
was quickly feeling the strain however, especially
with his cybernetic arm and
returned to the bed, sitting down heavily before giving Terza a long
look. “The prosthetic, how long would it take for me to get used to
it?” He questioned seriously.

“Well,
that would come down to you and what kind you choose,” She tucked
her hands in the pockets of her lab coat, Qui-Gon able to spot a
lolly sticking out of one of them. “Some people get used to their
prosthetic very quickly as
you did with your arm
because they pick the cybernetic option, others take months if not
even years to get used to a none cyber one. Knight Skywalker took a
month to get fully
used
to his own,
which is considered something of a record really so I would actually
advice you to speak to him. Honestly
you are pushing it with your own arm really as you’re not fully
comfortable with it yet.”
She finished up.

Nodding,
Qui-Gon smiled a bit as Obi-Wan tucked into his side, snuggling them
together with a little prompting grunt which had him slide his arm
around Obi-Wan. “Thank you, I’ll be sure to speak with Anakin,”
He agreed, metal
fingertips
gently stroking the small of Obi-Wan’s back as he bowed a bit to
Terza, watching her leave before turning his gaze on Obi-Wan. “What
do you think?”

Obi-Wan
hummed before shrugging as he squinted pale eyes at him. “It might
be a good idea to go for a prosthetic
honestly Qui, but you should consider which kind.” He answered
honestly in a quiet voice.

“Oh?”
Qui-Gon teased Obi-Wan’s hair out of his face, the crutches resting
beside him against the bed.

“If
you pick a normal one, you might never be able to go on a mission
again, prosthetic can make it hard to run or be agile though some
manage but you’re not… young,” Obi-Wan smiled playfully and
Qui-Gon chuckled even as he took that advice on board. “Cybernetic
would guarantee you would return to the mission roster in about a
year at most.” Obi-Wan
finished up with.

Teasing
blunt fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair and scratching his scalp with
his honestly to long nails, Qui-Gon mused on that.

There
were people who got very active on their normal prosthetic made of
duraplast but Qui-Gon wasn’t actually sure he could manage that and
even then… did he want to?

After
this war…

He
glanced down at his lap and then at Obi-Wan who continued enjoying
the scalp skritches. ‘…I’ll speak with Anakin first before I
make a decision. But for now I just want to enjoy the quietness.’
He mused tiredly as he pulled Obi-Wan to him.