Bowing his head in thanks to the medic, Qui-Gon watched the woman leave before turning his attention back to his padawan, carefully drawing the other’s left hand into his to have a point of physical contact, the other equipped with an IV line still.

He tried not to wince at the sight of his too small padawan in a large, sterile bed, the other looking far too much like a broken doll than a human at that moment for Qui-Gon’s comfort.

Obi-Wan had unfortunately suffered a few broken ribs due to the debris being blown around, some blood loss and he had a head wound filled with shrapnel, it had caused the medics to shave the left side of Obi-Wan’s head.

It left his poor padawan looking quite odd, copper hair on one side and nothing on the other side.

If it wasn’t for the sickly paleness of his skin and the swollen state of his eyes, one could mistake it for an odd hair cutting accident or a youngling cutting their own hair.

Qui-Gon wasn’t unfamiliar to children cutting their own hair unfortunately.

But coupled with the eyes and his skin, Obi-Wan looked the state of the victim he was.

But he was alive.

Qui-Gon knew that a few people had not survived the trauma of the shop exploding.

From the gossip he heard in the hall, it had been some sort of food place, a gas container had apparently been the cause of this entire disaster.

An accident.

Squeezing his padawan’s hand, Qui-Gon let out a deep sigh and looked to the wall with a small frown on his face.

He could imagine why Obi-Wan had stopped, he was quite aware that his padawan was part of the unifying Force. A little glimpse into the future, a little vision slipping past his eyes…

Qui-Gon didn’t like visions and precognition, exactly for the reason Obi-Wan was now laid out in bed and injured.

It didn’t always help and sometimes could be outright damaging.

There would have been next to nothing they could have done about the exploding shop and if they had continued walking, Obi-Wan might not have gotten as hurt as he did.

Normally, he would have told Obi-Wan to focus on the now.

Normally.

But Obi-Wan wasn’t normal.

His ADHD made what was a gentle guidance seem so much worse, Obi-Wan could take Qui-Gon’s gentle direction to try and focus on the now as a rejection of Obi-Wan’s very nature and that…

That could not come to pass.

Teens that felt rejected felt the need to hide and lie, Qui-Gon could not have that, not with Obi-Wan.

His condition made it imperative that he trusted Qui-Gon, should something go wrong, he must feel that he could at the very least go to Qui-Gon, so they could work out what was going on.

Yoda was skilled with precognition but he was also old and as much as Qui-Gon loved his grandmaster, the prospect of sending Obi-Wan to Yoda, who could be rigid and unbending about his own ways was setting of warning signals in Qui-Gon’s head.

Obi-Wan’s condition meant he needed a gentler hand.

Someone used to being careful but was also aware of precognition enough to teach.

Rubbing Obi-Wan’s hand, Qui-Gon frowned deeply before sighing and glancing at the dimmed sun filtering in through the window. “…Guess I’ll be sending Yan a message.” He mused a tad darkly to himself.

It wasn’t that he didn’t still care for his old master but he and Yan…

Well, they were very different people and the last stages of Qui-Gon’s apprenticeship had been a tad fraught.

But, Yan knew how to be careful, of that Qui-Gon was sure.

A man that while not outright cared for younglings, could cradle them carefully and sooth someone in need of it. And Yan was also part of the unifying Force.

If supplied with the correct information on Obi-Wan’s condition, Yan would potentially be the best choice.

‘If only to stop something like this from happening again.’ Qui-Gon reached up with his free hand and gently stroked Obi-Wan’s pale cheek, smiling sadly down at his padawan.