Chapter Text
“He’s too dangerous to be left alive!”
The abyss was staring at him, waves of darkness beckoning. He could talk Master Windu out of it, he knew. Could appeal to his sense of devotion to the Jedi code, of what was right and wrong.
Obi-Wan’s face swam in his mind. As did his wife’s.
It was time to choose. Light or dark. He knew what he should do. Finding the strength for it was another matter entirely.
For just a heartbeat, he felt two nudges through the Force. Obi-Wan.
And Ahsoka.
They could feel his torment. And though they had no idea of the reason for it, they both automatically reached to support him.
He grasped onto the color of their signatures - Obi-Wan a deep, calming blue, Ahsoka a vibrant orange. And he let them pull him back from the edge.
No more thinking.
One sharp nod at Master Windu. One fluid movement from the Jedi master.
It was done.
He felt a bitter mix of relief and regret. Shame and guilt. Failure and triumph.
He buried it all under a cloak of calmness, most of it borrowed from Obi-Wan’s depthless serenity that the older man was currently projecting his way.
The numbness was better for now. He needed to function. Things had to be done. Later…later he knew, he would pay for this time of reprieve.
He sucked in a breath, the first in what seemed ages. “What do you need me to do, Master?”
Windu gave him a long, measuring look. Anakin had no idea what was in his face, no idea what Windu could sense. “Alert the rest of the Council,” he said, coming to a decision. “Whoever is still alive. We have much to do, and must move quickly.”
And so, he did.
The first few hours were a blur. It was a safe bet to assume Palpatine’s inner circle were all well aware of their master’s…proclivities. They were not interested in coming quietly.
In between smashing down doors and arresting Sith apprentices, he sent a very quick message to his wife. “I’m alright,” he said, “I can’t talk about what happened, there’s not time, but just know I’m fine.”
He transmitted the recording because he was too much of a coward to see her face just yet.
Hours later, he stood in front of the rest of the available Council. He was exhausted, but he knew there more, much more he needed to go through. The Council, each one looking visibly battered, questioned him for a long time, and for the first time in years, he answered in complete honesty.
So now…they knew. About the Chancellor and his plans. About how close he had come to falling over the edge. And about Padme and the child she carried.
There were a few questions he felt they had deliberately not asked. He had been grateful for it, but at the same moment, he wanted just to have it all out in the open.
He bowed when he was dismissed, then turned blindly into the Coruscant night. He did not remember the trip, did not remember the decision he’d make to go, but he was unsurprised to find himself at his wife’s door. Had he taken a speeder here? He had no idea.
The apartment was dark, and he knew she was gone. She would be at the Senate, of course, doing whatever was needed to ensure the survival of the Republic. He absently wondered who would be chancellor now.
His money would be on Bail Organa. The thought seemed like it came from a very long way away.
He dropped onto the sofa, head in his hands. He was so, so tired. But he knew rest was a long way off this night. He should meditate, release his emotions into the Force. He was still a Jedi, after all, at least for now.
The Council would not make a decision about his fate tonight. There was far too much to be done. Continuity of government needed to be established and protected. And, in the end, he had made the right decision.
It had been a near miss.
A very, very near miss.
And now…Padme would die.
He had sealed her fate.
But saved the Republic.
He wanted to die. Wondered if he could make some sort of bargain with the Force. His life for hers. Straight trade - no conditions.
It didn’t matter - he wouldn’t survive her loss anyway.
In an instant, he was running down the hall, stomach heaving. After, he lay on the floor, head pressed against the cool tile.
Through a wave of agony, he heard the knock on the door. Ignored it. This was Padme’s apartment officially anyway. He did not get visitors here.
But then someone called his name, and he realized he was in too much pain to focus on what the Force was trying to tell him. Who was behind the door.
On legs that trembled and with hands that shook violently, he let Obi-Wan inside. Of course he knew. It was suddenly blindingly obvious that of course Obi Wan knew about Padme. Perhaps not the entire story, but enough that know they were…involved…and had been for years.
His old master…friend…brother…stood before him, his usual serenity a bit tattered. In another life, Anakin would be amused by that. Obi-Wan put a hand on his arm.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
Absently, he shook his head. No. Not now, not ever again.
He had sentenced the woman he loved to die. He had almost given into the dark side, almost given himself to the Sith. Almost ruined everything he had spent his life fighting for.
“You’ve talked to the Council?” Anakin asked, voice sounding hoarse and strange.
Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes. But I wanted to hear everything directly from you.”
They sat, Anakin cradling his head in his hands again. And, since there was no point in hiding anything, and no way he could feel worse now than he did, he spoke. For a very long time. He left nothing out, even things that he had not shared with the Council.
And Obi-Wan took everything in with measured calmness. Asked a few pertinent questions. And then was silent, turning it all over.
“You did the right thing,” he finally said. “Even if it doesn’t feel like it.”
He met the other man’s eyes.
“It feels like I’ve murdered my wife.”
There - the first time he had acknowledged out loud to anyone else that Padme was his wife. It should have been more momentous, but Obi-Wan merely blinked once. “Anakin, you don’t know that’s what’s going to happen.”
“I do, though. I explained that.” He felt his temper flare. So did his master.
“Have you told Padme about it?”
From the side door, there was movement. “Has he told me about what?” He hadn't heard her shuttle arrive, or even sensed her footsteps. Such a thing had never happened before, but perhaps he could be forgiven for his lack of awareness.
Padme stepped out of the shadows, clearly aware that something was very wrong. She looked tired, almost as tired as he felt. In her condition, she shouldn’t push herself so hard. He stood, held out a hand to her. She looked askance at him, but put her fingers in his nonetheless.
“Come sit,” he said. She did, but flicked her eyes nervously at Obi-Wan, who offered her a grim smile. “It’s okay,” he told her, lacing their hands together. “He knows.”
Padme looked between the two of them with increasing levels of alarm. “What happened? I’ve heard rumors, awful things. About the Chancellor and how he died. And the deaths of several Jedi? The Senate is a mess, no one knows anything...”
He did not - not - want to explain this again. Not to this woman. But he needed to. Needed to tell her that he had doomed her. Was going to have to see the look on her face when she realized he couldn’t save her, that he was too much of a coward to do what needed to be done.
She said nothing while he spoke, her fingers still against his. When he was recounting how close, how tempted he had been tonight, he choked up. And when he was bitterly apologizing for his weakness, she threw her arms around him, and he realized he was crying.
He buried his face in her neck, hands gripping her fiercely. The soft swell of her stomach pressed against him, and he silently apologized to his child for not being strong enough to save its mother.
The pressure on him increased, and after a confused second, he understood that Obi-Wan had his arms around him as well.
He shattered.
After all he had done and all he failed to do, these two people, the people he loved the most in the galaxy, were trying to comfort him. The pull of the darkness disappeared, almost entirely.
And he wept. Wept like the frightened, ashamed man he was. Frightened of losing the woman he loved more than his own life. Ashamed of what he had nearly done to save her.
He was drowning in pain and fear and hurt and loathing and agony and guilt. And these two were determined to pull him out of the water.
When the storm passed, the water receded, he found himself on the floor, his head in Padme’s lap. Obi Wan knelt beside him, one hand on his shoulder.
“What do I do?” he asked his master. His mentor.
Somehow, Obi-Wan managed a tight smile. “Nothing, as hard as that may seem. The Council is going to have their hands full for a while, but they will wish to hear from you soon, I imagine. Until then, stay here with your wife.”
“How long have you known?” Padme asked quietly, one of her hands weaving into his hair.
Obi-Wan’s smile was more genuine now. “Always, it seems like. I am not blind, though I have tried to be for your sake. Both of your sakes,” he added. “But Anakin could never quite manage to hide that he was desperately in love with you.”
Slowly, feeling as though he weighed thousands of pounds, he turned his head. “Why did you never mention it?”
“Because she made you happy,” Obi-Wan said simply. “And you deserve some happiness in your life.”
There was no good response to that.
Obi-Wan stood. “Try to rest, Anakin.”
He rose to his feet, still unsteady, and walked his master to the door. “Will you contact Ahsoka for me?” he asked, voice nearly gone. “I can feel her worry.” In fact, she had been pushing on their bond for hours. But he could not bring himself to say all of these things again. Selfishly, he did not want to see the disappointment in his former padawan’s face.
The other man nodded. “Of course.”
“Will you tell her she helped saved me tonight?”
Another nod.
He put a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “And so did you.”
“Anakin…” Obi-Wan sighed. “I have seen many truly terrible things in my life. Things that will stay with me until I die. But I have never been more afraid than I was tonight. I could feel how close you were to…”
“You saved me,” he repeated. “You and Ahsoka, and the light you sent me.”
Obi-Wan hugged him then, brusquely, and he reflected with grim humor that they hadn’t physically touched this much in the past several years combined.
“I’ll get ahold of Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan said, hand on the doorknob.
“Tell her to come home, if she can.”
One more nod, and then he was gone.
Anakin stared at the closed door for a full minute, tracking Obi-Wan by the Force as he made his way through the building.
Then he turned, walking slowly down the hall to where Padme waited.
He realized he was afraid to face her.
But she pulled him into her arms once more, and he was even more afraid that there was now a finite number of times he would ever do this.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered to her hair. “Sorry I couldn’t save you.”
Her arms tightened. “I don’t need to be saved, you foolish man.”
Oh, but she did. And he couldn’t do it.
The choking sensation was back.
Padme rose on her tiptoes, pressing her forehead to his. He sucked in a deep breath. Then another.
“Make love to me,” she whispered.
There was no question in her voice. It was a command only.
And, as always, he was powerless to deny her.
He needed this, needed the feel of her around him, to be as closely connected as two people could be. To have her so vibrant and alive beneath him, limbs entwined with his.
She knew he needed this, but he rather thought she needed it, too.
The confirmation that he was still with her, that her worst fears had not come to pass. At least not yet.
Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had not been the only ones afraid for him tonight.
When he lay next to her, his head on her breasts, hand resting protectively on her stomach, his heart trembled again at the thought of losing her.
But she kissed the top of his head, shifting a little, and he closed his eyes, abruptly exhausted.
His dreams were haunted, but each time he woke, she was there with soft caresses and soothing words, and each time, he would ease himself back down, face in her hair or against her neck.
In the inky darkness just before dawn, Padme rolled to her side, and he followed. She took his hand, placed it against her stomach, and he felt the insistent nudges of little feet on his palm. Despite the current wreckage of the world, he smiled.
His child. His eternity. His legacy.
I will keep you safe, he thought. Even if I couldn’t promise the same thing to your mother.
A wave of grief washed over him.
How? How could he possibly survive without her? And yet, he would have to. He knew what the galaxy was like - cold, unfeeling, harsh. How could he leave his child to the mercy of it? He knew what it was like without parents. What he wouldn’t give for his mother, even now. He could not do that to his child. Would not leave them.
“I love you so much,” he breathed, addressing both his wife and the baby she sheltered.
Padme turned again, facing him now, her fingers skimming down his face. He wondered what she saw there. She snuggled closer. “I love you,” she whispered, lips brushing his. “Ani,” she went on, very softly, “it will all be alright.”
And how he wanted to believe her.
She fell asleep against him, and he carefully pulled the blankets up to her shoulders. He took his responsibilities towards her seriously - she was under his protection, and if there was no threat to fight against, it was his job to protect her from the cold.
He studied her sleeping face, the blackness in his mind reminding him that he would not be able to do this many more times. She did not look relaxed. Even as she slept, he could see the hollows in her cheeks, the shadows beneath her eyes.
Intuitively, he knew it was because of him. She had been worried, knowing that something was coming. He wondered for the thousandth time if she didn’t have a hint of Force sensitivity somewhere in her blood.
He was supposed to be keeping her safe. But he was hurting her.
He frowned, shifting so that their foreheads were touching.
He closed his eyes, but did not sleep again.