for Qui-Gon
I had spent most of my time in the clinic sleeping, despite the chaos. This irritated me almost as much as the cast on my arm and the headache that simply would not go away. The headache was the reason I slept so much, as asleep, I could block it out for a little while. But most of all, I was irritated by the fact that from my bed I could look right out into the clinic and see that there was so much to do but I was completely useless to help - a fact that was made quite apparent to me when I tried to get up and was rewarded with nauseating dizziness that put me flat on my back again. Stop fretting, Beauchamp, I told myself. There are more highly-qualified doctors in this one room than in any place you've ever been in in your life, so let them do their jobs while you concentrate on getting better. The faster you do that, the faster you can be useful again.
So, out of frustration and boredom, I slept.
When I woke in the late afternoon, Qui-Gon was there, his hand folded lightly over my uninjured one. He looked worried, and I felt a stab of guilt at being the cause. "Hello," I said quietly.
So, out of frustration and boredom, I slept.
When I woke in the late afternoon, Qui-Gon was there, his hand folded lightly over my uninjured one. He looked worried, and I felt a stab of guilt at being the cause. "Hello," I said quietly.