Anakin didn't know where he was. He could only assume that he was dead, because Luke had seemed to stop mid-sentence. Luke, he thought. He had left his frightened son alone in the rapidly self-destructing Death Star! He struggled weakly, but could hardly move his arms and legs. He needed to go! To help Luke! Surely, as a part of the Force now, he could somehow guide the boy away from his corpse and back to the Alliance!

He forced his eyes open, and blinding blue poured back in on him. He closed his eyes again, and turned his head away. He felt grass against his ear.

"Ani," said a familiar, long lost female voice. He lay still, tensed. It couldn't have been her. There was simply no way. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and found new strength in the gentle touch. He managed to sit up, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands before looking up at the woman.

"Mom?"

Shmi smiled at him before cradling him in her arms, "You're safe now, Ani."

Anakin relaxed against her breast for a moment. He felt almost as if he were nine years old again, receiving his mom's gentle comfort. He pushed the feeling away, "Mom, is Luke alright?"

Shmi nodded, "He found his way back to his friends."

Anakin turned his gaze around the empty clearing, breaking off in a strip of sand before an ocean. He wanted verification that Luke was alive and well. He wanted to go back to his boy! Luke had wanted so badly for Anakin to make it off that station.

"Where are we?" he asked at last. His gaze was drawn to the ocean. It was lapping slowly at the sand, gentle and familiar.

"A place of forgiveness," Shmi told him, gesturing to the water,

"Forgiveness?" Anakin asked. He wanted forgiveness so badly… could it really be as simple as being in this clearing?

Shmi stood up, and walked across the sand and out to the water. She gathered some water in her cupped hands, carrying it back to her son, "Hold out your hands."

Obediently, Anakin did, and she gently poured the water that had not seeped through her own hands into his gloves. Then she dipped her fingers in the water and carefully ran it across the scars on his exposed head. The feeling was of ice, so cold it burned, but Anakin could feel it burning away his scars, and so he longed for more of it. Shmi obliged, dipping her fingers again, running it over her son's lips and cheeks.

Anakin was like a hungry child again, wanting his mother to continue healing him, but as she moved again to dip her fingers, he saw that the last of the water had slipped through his hands.

"It felt good, didn't it?" Shmi asked kindly.

Anakin nodded. "Will you get more?"

"Will you?" Shmi countered.

Anakin looked out at the ocean, a slowly moving tide of forgiveness. He wanted to go to it, but he would have to cross the sand first, "I hate sand," he told his mother.

"I know you do."

"I don't want to cross it," he admitted. He couldn't be certain of exactly how old he was here. He knew only that he was taller than his mother, and still wearing armour, save his helmet, which led him to assume that he was the same age he had been when he'd left his son. Looking at the beach of sand, however, he felt much younger. He felt that, as in a dream, the sand would not be tiny flakes of rock, but all the worse things that it had always meant to him.

"It does not hurt so much," she promised. Her voice made Anakin want to snuggle against her, and let her comfort him, as he had so many times. He had never heard that accent again, in all of his travels, and he had missed it so much… but he had to focus. He knew that. He knew somehow that if he could gather the courage to cross the sand, he would see his son again.

Anakin looked at it again. The sand seemed even to be filled with tiny shards of glass, and he felt less inclined to cross it than ever. Then he turned his gaze upwards, towards the ocean, stretched across the inlet. Forgiveness, and so close at hand… He found himself on his feet, walking cautiously towards the ocean. His mother walked beside him, and he felt calmed, comforted. As his foot touched the sand, however, he yelped and pulled it back. It burned as hot as the water had burned cold.

"It hurts, Mom," he complained, as though his mother could simply tell the sand to be cooler so he could walk comfortably across it.

"You have to cross it," Shmi told him, gently guiding him towards it again, "And when you reach the water, you must stay there until it no longer burns."

Anakin desperately didn't want to, but he gazed across the burning sand at the water and knew it was his only way to say goodbye to his son properly. Looking at the icy water, he remembered his son's gaze, similar in hue, but so much warmer. His son's forgiveness had burned every bit as much as the water. Luke had found the courage to forgive a Sith Lord, and Anakin knew that the least he could do to repay his little boy was to dart across the hateful strip of sand so he could be forgiven, and return to Luke.

Determinedly, he stepped onto the burning sand, and tried to run, but he found that he couldn't. It was hard simply to continue to put one foot in front of the other, and achieving any speed was impossible. Each step was taking him closer to the water, closer to his son, though, so he continued. After what felt like eons, his burning feet touched the water, which was torturous in its coldness. It was burning away the hurting of the sand, however, so Anakin stayed.

But staying wasn't enough for his body, and he found it continuing into the water, until the icy cold was up to his neck, and then, right over his head, for he seemed to have no need of air. The burning was terrible, and he found himself starting to back up again, but he wasn't surfacing nearly as quickly as he should have been, and he started to feel frightened, unable to open his eyes to find his mother. Then, suddenly, the pain subsided, and something took his hand and led him back out of the water. It was only when he broke the surface again, and could open his eyes to look back that he saw that he had been stumbling the wrong direction in his pain, deeper into the burning waters of forgiveness.

He looked up at the person who was holding his hand, and saw that it was his mother. And the hand was ungloved, his arms covered in a rough, light coloured tunic. He was a little nine-year-old from Tatooine again, and he looked up at his mother with his old, familiar perfect love and admiration. She smiled down at him, and continued to pull him onwards.

Their re-crossing of the sand was painless, and Anakin was glad. When they stood on the grass again, his mother knelt down as she had when she'd told him to go with Qui-Gon, and he hugged her very tightly. For the first time since he'd entered the clearing, he cried. His mother cradled him close, stroking his hair.

"Was that so bad?" she asked gently.

Anakin shook his head, but he didn't want his mother to release him. He was still frightened, and lonely, he realized.

"Mom, is Padmé here?" he asked. Suddenly, his mother seemed to be releasing him, and he wanted to squeeze her more tightly, but he accepted, and let his arms slip from around her. As he sat back, he saw that she hadn't been releasing him at all, but that he had grown in size. He was taller than his mother again, but looking down, he saw that both of his hands were flesh and blood. Perhaps he looked as he had just before the Clone Wars, then.

"I'm here, Ani," Padmé answered him, stepping out of the trees.

Anakin was on his feet, running towards her. When he reached her, he lifted her in his arms, kissing her. She put her arms around his neck, and kissed him back, and he lowered her to the ground. He held her tightly, clinging to her as he had never dared to do before, afraid of the eventuality that she would release him.

"Let me go, Ani," Padmé said, and Anakin did. He knew better than to continue to cling to her if she wanted him to let go.

"What about Ahsoka?"

From the trees came a snort of amusement, "That was quite a display to show a Jedi apprentice."

Anakin turned to look at his apprentice, who was looking at him with that mocking light in her eyes. He released even Padmé's hands, which he had continued to hold after releasing the rest of her, and took a step towards his apprentice, "From how you looked at Lux, I'm sure that wasn't the first time you've ever seen someone kissed."

Ahsoka darkened a couple of shades of orange in what constituted a blush, but she barged on, "Well, I hear you managed to have children with her!"

Anakin grinned at her, "Jealous?"

Ahsoka slapped him, and he laughed, "I deserved that."

He felt himself growing once more as he realized who should have cut off their teasing by now.

"Where's…" he paused, uncertain, "Obi-Wan?"

He knew a moment before it happened where Obi-Wan would emerge from, and he ran towards him, hugging his old master as tightly as he had hugged his mother. Obi-Wan laughed, and pried him off, "I don't remember you being so… huggy," he said as Anakin hugged him again.

"I don't remember you being willing to be hugged," Anakin countered, releasing him.

Anakin hadn't noticed the little green Jedi Master emerging from the forest, but he now stood beside Obi-Wan, "Ready, you are. Bid farewell to your son, you must."

Anakin felt a painful sinking, realizing that his happy reunion would not end with his children. He knew he should be glad, because it meant they were still alive, but he now knew that Death was nothing to fear. He nodded down at the little Jedi.

"Come with you, I will."

"And I as well," Obi-Wan added.

"And Padmé?" Anakin asked hopefully.

Obi-Wan shook his head, "Let's not complicate Luke's day any further. Another time."

Anakin watched as Obi-Wan grew from the form of the man who had taught Anakin to the old man who Vader had killed on the first Death Star. It was to make Luke feel more comfortable, to help the boy to better understand who he was seeing, he imagined.

Anakin felt the clearing drift away from him, and saw the moon of Endor on which the rebels had destroyed the shield generator. He picked out Luke quickly, forgetting to look for Leia, and the boy stopped, and turned towards him. He smiled, and nearly stepped towards the boy, but just as he was about to do so, Luke's sister came up, and put an arm around her brother, turning him back towards the party. Luke turned his head to continue to gaze at Anakin and the others a moment before his sister rejoined him with the group.

He watched his son slipping casually into the party. The boy slipped past rebel pilots and ewoks, and even the wookiee, all of whom were dancing. Luke still seemed upset, which was no surprise, of course, but as Leia attacked him from behind with a savage hug, she managed to draw a smile to his face, widened when Chewbacca decided that Leia had just declared the day hug-a-depressed-Skywalker day, and hugged Luke with enough strength that he lifted the boy right off his feet, which Luke took so calmly that Anakin could only assume that it was a common occurrence.

Anakin gave his son a gentle, comforting hug to his soul with the Force, and then felt the Jedi Masters he stood beside drawing him back, away from the party.