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Sometimes Anakin Skywalker just wants to be by himself.
He spends day after day surrounded by other people, on ships or on the battlefield or in the temple. And in every situation, he has a role to play. General, Jedi Knight, Ahsoka’s master, Obi-Wan’s right-hand man. Even in those precious moments he steals with his wife, he’s playing the role of Padmé’s husband; her protector, who leaves all his baggage at the door when he comes home.
But sometimes, when all the circumstances perfectly align, Anakin will get a few minutes to himself. He used to not know what to do with himself when left alone. He always felt like he was wasting his time when he should have been doing something, anything to get this war over with as quickly as possible. His periods of leave between missions always made him jumpy. Sometimes, he’s almost relieved to be shipped out again.
He’s on leave at the moment; him, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka. It’s been a few weeks since they investigated that Jedi distress code that brought them to Mortis, and this is the first break they’ve had since then.
It’s also the first time Anakin has felt like he could breathe again since it all happened.
He needed this, the solitude of his room in the temple. The stillness in the air, the silence so sharp he could hear a ball of dust if it swept across his floor. He needed to be away from people. Trying to command an army and teach Ahsoka and joke with Obi-Wan these past few weeks has left him drained. He feels like an imposter in his own body, just imitating what the real Anakin Skywalker would do or say. But finally, he can rest.
His eyes fly open when he hears a knock at his door.
“Anakin?” a voice calls.
He doesn’t need to look when the door slides open to know who it is. He knows that voice like he knows the Force.
“You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you.”
Anakin pushes that memory deep, deep back into his mind, like he’s done so many times before. Maybe if he pushes it back enough, it will fall straight out of his head and he’ll be free from the Son’s gift. But he knows that even if he drove it out completely, it would come back to him in his dreams. That’s how it all resurfaced to begin with. Even the Father wasn’t powerful enough to make him forget completely.
“What?” he finally chokes out.
Obi-Wan is looking at him with that furrowed-brow and those questioning eyes that silently ask him what’s wrong. He’s been giving him that look a lot lately. But how can Anakin explain to him that it’s himself that’s wrong?
How can he tell his best friend, his brother, that he’ll kill him one day?
“These breaks make me feel restless...” the older man says.
A lie. He’s just concerned about Anakin. And Force if that doesn’t make Anakin feel absolutely wretched.
“... and I was wondering if you would like to spar. It would give us both an opportunity to work off this excess energy.”
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and held his lightsaber straight up, as if he was asking to be struck down. Vader wasted no time before eagerly slicing right through him.
Anakin’s stomach turns over at the thought of dueling with Obi-Wan, even for practice. All he would be able to think about is that red blade cutting through him, his body disappearing before it could hit the ground.
Luke screaming as he watches it all happen.
He shakes his head, maybe a bit too aggressively.
“I was going to meditate, actually,” he lies. “If I’m going to teach Ahsoka how to do it, I’ve got to start getting better at it myself.”
He’s become something of an expert at lying during this war. Obi-Wan always sees right through him, but he rarely calls him out on it. He just gets that sad look on his face that makes Anakin want to admit to everything, but the words get stuck in his throat every time. Obi-Wan has that look on his face now, and Anakin thinks that if he even opened his mouth to tell him the truth, he would throw up.
“Very well,” he sighs. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
Obi-Wan turns to leave but lingers in the doorway for a few moments. He looks back over his shoulder to address him.
“Anakin...,” he begins, sounding unsure. “You know you can tell me if something is bothering you, right?”
No, I can’t, Anakin thinks.
“Yes, I know,” he says instead.
Obi-Wan gives him a small, sad smile before leaving him. Anakin goes right back to staring at the wall, lost inside his own head. He doesn’t know how much time passes this way. After gaining over 20 years of memories in the span of a few minutes, his sense of time has been skewed. All he does know is that he’s eventually able to pull himself up and walk out the door. He knows that he has to go visit Padmé, like he always does when he’s on leave. For the first time since they married, he’s dreading it.
“Master! Where are you going in such a hurry?”
He stops in his tracks so quickly he almost trips over his own feet. He’d been so single-minded in getting from his dorm to his speeder that he didn’t even notice Ahsoka approaching him.
“I thought I knew who you were under that mask. But it’s impossible. My master could never be so vile.”
His padawan believed in him until the end.
“Uh, Master?”
Anakin catches himself before he falls too far into his memories. He doesn’t want to worry Ahsoka.
“Sorry, Snips, you just took me by surprise,” he says weakly. “I guess that means I’ve trained you well.”
His padawan gives him a curious look.
“Are you feeling okay?” she asks. “You look a little pale.”
Her obvious concern fills him with guilt. He thinks of all the times they’ve had each other’s backs on the battlefield, all the times she’s saved his life.
“I won’t leave you. Not this time.”
He doesn’t deserve that kind of loyalty.
“Just feeling a little sick,” he dismisses. “I probably caught whatever Master Fisto has. I was just going to get a little fresh air.”
Ahsoka perks up, accepting his lie without question. She trusts him, and it makes a lump form in his throat, knowing he’s going to use it against her one day.
“I’ll come with you,” she insists. She takes a step towards him, and Anakin takes an even bigger step back.
“I don’t want to get you sick,” he explains.
It’s a weak excuse, but he’s desperate to get out of the temple and away from everyone in it. All he can see when he walks down the halls are the bodies of his fellow Jedi crumpled on the floor, dead either from blaster shots or from his lightsaber. The younglings will be getting out of their classes soon. If he sees them, if he hears them call him...
“Master Skywalker, there’s too many of them. What are we going to do?”
He knows he must look as sick now as he claims to be. He can’t think about the younglings anymore without fear of retching.
“I’ll be fine, Master,” Ahsoka laughs. “Besides, I could use some fresh air too.”
Anakin tries to squash his panic and searches for an explanation as to why she absolutely cannot follow him out.
“No can do, Snips. You need to be in tip-top shape for the meditation lesson tomorrow.”
Ahsoka rolls her eyes like dramatic teenager she is, which would normally make Anakin laugh. He knows the lessons are tedious to her. In that regard, she’s like he was when he was a padawan. She’d rather be doing something, like lightsaber work or hand-to-hand combat training. Anakin doesn’t know when he’ll be ready to spar with her again, if ever. Like Obi-Wan, he knows he won’t really be seeing her. He’ll only see an adult Ahsoka, vowing to avenge her master.
“You’re too paranoid,” she complains.
Oh, if only she knew the half of it.
For once, she follows his orders and sulks off somewhere, probably to a training room. Anakin is rushing out of the temple the second she turns a corner and is out of his sight. He thought getting some distance away from the rest of the Jedi would give him some relief.
It doesn’t.
Padmé’s apartment; a place Anakin used to see as a refuge, and now he has to talk himself into getting out of his speeder and going inside. He can lie to Ahsoka and get away with it, he can even lie to Obi-Wan and get away with it, but never with Padmé. She will question him, and he doesn’t know what answer he can give her. What he did to her – what he will do to her...
He can’t let himself think about it. He has to forget those memories for just one night, or he’ll completely fall apart in front of her. So he forces a smile onto his face and prays to the Force that she won’t notice how hollow it is, then he enters through the balcony. Padmé is lounging on the couch in one of the silk nightgowns he likes so much, reading a holo-book. She looks up as soon as he enters, her big brown eyes wide.
Her eyes were wide in shock and terror as her hands flew to her throat. She struggled to catch her breath enough to beg him for mercy.
“Anakin... please...”
Anakin digs his nails into his palm hard enough to break skin, dragging himself back into reality. Padmé’s eyes aren’t wide in fear this time, but in excitement. She’s not scared of him, she’s happy to see him. She still loves him in the here and now. She doesn’t know she married a monster.
Block it out, block it out, block it out –
Padmé jumps up off the couch, rushes over to him, and throws her arms around him in a tight embrace. He very nearly recoils at her touch. Being so close to her, knowing what he’s going to do, makes him feel vile. How could he ever fall so low as to hurt the love of his life?
“I missed you,” she sighs, her face buried in his chest.
Those words used to make Anakin’s heart sing, knowing that she felt his absence as acutely as he felt hers. Now it just makes him want to break down and sob into her hair. He settles on wrapping his arms around her and holding her close, as if it’s the last time he’ll ever get the opportunity. His hands shake with the effort to be as gentle as he possibly can.
“I missed you too, Padmé,” he whispers.
Force, did he miss her. More than he can ever remember missing her before. This hasn’t been their longest separation, not by a longshot, but he can already feel the weight of the years he’ll one day spend without her. It’s as if they’ve already happened, but only he has lived it.
They stay like that, just holding each other in silence, until Padmé pulls away first. Just as Anakin predicted, she looks worried.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
Anakin gives her a smile that he knows doesn’t reach his eyes. He needs to try harder to act like everything is normal, but he’s just... too tired. Every time he tries to sleep, he’s assaulted by another horrific vision, so he stays awake for as long as his body will allow. Sleep has become his biggest fear. All his waning energy goes towards making it to the next day. Convincing everyone that he’s the same Anakin he’s always been is becoming more and more difficult.
“I’m just tired,” he says, tucking one of her loose curls behind her ear. “It’s been a difficult few weeks.”
Padmé smiles sadly and reaches out again, gripping onto his hand.
“I can’t even imagine,” she murmurs. “I’m just grateful you came home.”
This would normally be around the time when Anakin would pull Padmé into his arms and carry her to the bedroom so they can make up for lost times, but he doesn’t think he’s capable of that in his current state. He’s terrified that this time will be the time he gets her pregnant, no matter how many precautions they take. Then the visions of her death will start, and so will his downward spiral into the dark side. He’ll become the man who’s capable of slaughtering children and strangling his pregnant wife.
He’s not ready for that. He’ll never be ready for that, and he wants to put it off for as long as possible.
“I’m grateful to be home, my love.”
Another lie.
Padmé beams at him, completely unaware that Anakin is itching to bolt out of there. But he doesn’t want to go back to the temple either. He’d be surrounded by all the Jedi he will one day kill, in a place that will one day be the Emperor’s palace. He shivers at the thought. That place isn’t an option for him, but he has nowhere else to go. He’ll have to spend the night here.
“Are you hungry?” Padmé asks. “I haven’t bought groceries for the week yet, but I’m sure I could throw something together.”
Anakin shakes his head with a small smile, still clutching her hand.
“I ate before I came over,” he lies. “All I want to do now is curl up in bed and hold you all night.”
Padmé makes no complaints as Anakin gently leads her to the bedroom, where he starts stripping himself of his clothes before crawling under the covers with her. She rests her head on his chest, right above his heart, and his arms automatically encircle her. He feels her warm breath on his skin when she lets out a little satisfied sigh.
“I’m sure I’ll sleep better tonight now that I have my favorite pillow back,” she jokes.
Anakin’s prosthetic hand rubs her arm up and down. She always insists she sees his cybernetic arm as just as much a part of himself as his flesh and bone limbs, but knowing now that he’ll one day be more machine than man, he’s starting to see his own prosthetic in a different light. It’s stronger than his other arm. He could easily squeeze her a little bit too hard and leave some deep bruises, even by accident. He could break a bone or wrap it around her neck and squeeze the life out of her with little effort.
The thought comes from out of nowhere and makes him tense up at once. Padmé must feel it, because she raises her head to look at him. The moonlight streaming through the windows illuminates her furrowed brow and the concern in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” she asks again.
I’m going to kill you one day, he thinks.
“I just...”
He reaches a hesitant hand out to cup her cheek and tries to ignore how close he is to her neck.
“I just really missed you, Padmé.”
She still looks weary, but she leans forward to give him a chaste kiss and then places her head back on his chest.
“And I missed you,” she replies. “With all my heart and all my soul.”
He knows she’s only letting him off easy because of how visibly exhausted he is, but she’ll no doubt press harder tomorrow. Hopefully a decent night’s sleep will help him come up with some sort of excuse that his observant wife will accept.
Holding Padmé close all night will be torture, he knows, but he always sleeps peacefully when she’s in his arms. Maybe just the weight of her against his chest will be enough to drive the nightmares away. If he even manages to fall asleep, that is.
Or maybe it will just make them worse.
When Padmé’s breathing evens out, Anakin lets his mind wander. He shouldn’t, because he knows what place it will go to, but he couldn’t stop it even if he tried. The night is too still. He was grateful for the silence back at the temple, now it just feels smothering. There’s nowhere to hide and nothing to distract him from his dark thoughts.
“Where is Padmé? Is she safe? Is she alright?”
“It seems in your anger you killed her.”
In Anakin’s dreams he’s always a bystander just watching the memories play out, but in that moment, he could somehow feel his future self’s overpowering grief. It’s a wonder he didn’t bring the entire med-center down on top of him when he lashed out with the Force. It was the kind of bone deep sadness that could make even the strongest of men tear themselves apart.
His eyes fall on his lightsaber. He can just barely see it resting on Padmé’s dresser, close enough for him to summon it over at the first sign of danger. He always keeps it there when he stays with Padmé. She teases him about his paranoia and insists her – their – apartment is secure, but the years he’s spent at war have shown him that nowhere is safe. No matter how cautious you think you are, danger is always lurking around the corner, waiting for you to let your guard down before it strikes.
That’s what Anakin is; a danger. To Padmé, to Obi-Wan, to Ahsoka, to everyone in the galaxy. He vowed to rid the galaxy of evil and bring balance to the Force, but what use is that when he’s the very thing he swore to destroy? He’s like a thermal detonator ticking closer and closer to explosion with each passing day. When he blows up, he’s taking everyone down with him.
There is a way to stop that future from happening. He could slip out of bed, grab his lightsaber, then sneak off in his speeder. He doesn’t know where he would go. Probably Coruscant’s underworld, where he could find an abandoned alleyway or somewhere else with no witnesses. Then he could press the lightsaber to his chest, right over his heart, and turn it on. Quick, clean, and simple. Someone would find his body soon enough, or maybe Obi-Wan would feel his death in the Force. His loved ones would mourn, but eventually they would move on. He wouldn’t have to go on living each day, pretending to be a good man and just waiting until he turns. It’s the only way out.
How can he keep playing the role of General and Jedi and teacher and husband when he knows that one day, he’ll be nothing but a monster?
He’s so close to gently moving Padmé off his chest so he can carry out his plans before he remembers why he can’t go through with it. If he dies now, Luke and Leia will never exist. That is one thing about this horrible future that he would never try to prevent, no matter how much he dreads the day he will hear the words, “Ani, I’m pregnant”.
He may never get the chance to raise his children, but it will be for the best that way. He would only ruin them the way he ruins everyone and everything he loves. Luke and Leia are too good, too much like their mother, to be stained by him. They’ll save the galaxy one day. They are the only people who can stop him and end Palpatine’s rule.
Palpatine.
He’s the cause of this. All of it. Anakin has just been too wrapped up in self-loathing to think of Palpatine’s role in his fall. The old man has been manipulating him for years, and he’s just been too much of a fool to see it.
“Learn to use the dark side of the Force and you will be able to save your wife from certain death.”
Anakin is embarrassed that he will soon become desperate enough to believe those lies. He used to think the Chancellor cared for him the way a father might, but now he knows that he’s always just been a tool in the Sith’s master plan. It enrages him. He’s confided in him, defended him against a growing number of critics, and all along Palpatine has been planning on making Anakin his slave. How is durasteel suit any better than a chip in his spine?
From what Anakin has seen in his visions, Palpatine will become one of the most powerful Force users in the history of the galaxy, if he isn’t already. Even Master Yoda has been fooled into thinking he’s just a harmless old man. He’s cunning, being able to play both sides of the war and orchestrate the downfall of the entire Jedi Order. He had to have been planning this for years, maybe decades. Anakin is only a small part of the bigger picture. If Palpatine couldn’t have him, he would just readjust his plan. Maybe he would find a new apprentice to groom, or maybe he would find a way to accomplish it all on his own. Even without Anakin, the Republic will still fall, and the Empire will rise from its ashes. Everyone he loves will suffer the same fate.
There’s only one solution that comes to Anakin’s mind; Palpatine has to die. If Anakin can kill him to save Luke in the future, then he can kill him to save the galaxy in the present. Without Palpatine, there won’t be anyone luring him towards the dark side. No one will promise him a way to cheat death or twist him against the Jedi.
There will be no Darth Vader without Darth Sidious there to hold his leash.
With this new resolve cemented in his mind, Anakin starts planning out his next steps. He should tell the Council about Palpatine, but what proof does he have? What will he say when they ask him how he knows? Besides that, Anakin doubts they’re ready to confront him. When a group of highly skilled Jedi Masters confronted him in the future, he killed them all besides Master Windu. Even then, Anakin suspects Palpatine was only holding back to make himself seem like a fragile old man who needed his help. He wanted Anakin to do the dirty work for him.
Telling the Council isn’t an option, but Anakin knows he can’t do this alone. He can’t risk having Palpatine manipulate him back to his side. If his visions have shown him anything about himself, it’s that he’s weak. Besides that, he’s afraid he might descend into madness if he keeps this secret bottled up for too long. If his future self had only confided in someone, anyone, besides Palpatine... If he had just told Obi-Wan about his dreams like Padmé suggested, then maybe things would have been –
The answer comes to him in an instant; Obi-Wan. He’s the only one Anakin can trust with this secret. He’s the only one he knows who can keep it a secret. His former master knows about his relationship with Padmé, and he has never said a word about it to Anakin or the Council.
“He cares about us.”
“Us?”
“He knows. He wants to help you.”
Obi-Wan wanted to help him – wants to help him – but Anakin has never given him the chance. Even after Anakin turns to the dark side, Obi-Wan dutifully watches over his son. He sacrifices himself to give Luke and Leia enough time to escape. If Anakin’s plan to stop Palpatine fails, he knows he can still trust Obi-Wan to keep his children safe.
Tomorrow, he’ll tell Obi-Wan the truth. All of it. It will hurt Anakin beyond measure to look his brother in the eyes and admit that he’ll kill him one day, but he’s determined not to let that future come to pass. They’ll think of some way out of this, together. They always have.
Anakin looks down at Padmé, who still rests peacefully in his arms. He runs his fingers gently through her soft curls, memorizing that feeling. Any galaxy without her in it isn’t a galaxy he wants to live in. She represents all that is good about the Republic, all that it should be. She’s put everything into fighting in the senate for those who can’t fight for themselves. Her life’s work will be destroyed in front of her eyes in this future. Maybe that’s what kills her. The Republic falls and her husband viciously attacks her, and it’s too much to handle in her fragile state. Or maybe Palpatine tells the truth when he says that Anakin...
He’s not going to let that happen. He’s going to stop Palpatine for the galaxy and Obi-Wan and Ahsoka and all the Jedi, but especially for Padmé. For her and their children. She deserves the chance to be the mother she’s always wanted to be, and their children deserve to be raised in a time of peace. None of them deserve to suffer the way Anakin has foreseen. He won’t be the one to tear his own family apart.
He swears to the Force itself, he’ll never hurt Luke and Leia like he does in his visions. He won’t become be the man they feared and despised. Instead, he’ll be the man Luke knew he could be.
“Your thoughts betray you, Father. I feel the good in you, the conflict.”
He holds Padmé a little tighter, feeling an insatiable need to remind himself that she’s still alive. Her chest rhythmically rises and falls against him and her skin on his bare chest warms him better than her silky Nabooian sheets ever have. He presses a kiss to her head. He imagines what their future will be like if he succeeds in killing Palpatine. When Luke and Leia are born, Anakin would most likely have to leave the Order, but he finds that he’s okay with that. They could go stay on Naboo after the birth, somewhere by the lake that she loves so much. Their children would have plenty of open space to run around and play. They would be happy and healthy and so loved by both their parents. He and Padmé can finally have the family they’ve always dreamed of, he just has to fight for it.
The long nights he’s spent fighting away sleep are crashing down on him all at once, and he knows he won’t be able to stay awake for much longer. This time, he doesn’t try to fight it. With Padmé in his arms and a sense of peace washing over him, he finally succumbs to a dreamless sleep.