Anakin watched his old master turn away with a mixture of emotions on his visage but pain flooded the young Jedi's blue hues, an emotion a Jedi was not supposed to have. A string in the fabric of Anakin's pants had grown too hot, had caught a discharge from the bubbling river of lava feet away from his already broken body and ignited him. The flames slowly ripped up the stump of his leg, jumping to catch the other, licking up his body like a starved animal to claim any clothing so it can sink its fiery fangs of hell into his flesh. Though Anakin screamed, tried to crawl his way from the flames still, all he could register was pain and his cybernetic hand offered no grip -there was barely any to be had- in the black ash sand he lay in as the flames slowly tortured him.
Beyond his pain, beyond the screams of his own, Anakin heard another's and closed his eyes to concentrate to block out his agony. When he opened his eyes, the flames had dissipated, leaving a severely burned...he wasn't even half the man he was. Pain was returning, the moment of concentration fading as the smell of his own burned flesh made it into his nose, he would have gagged has his throat not been swollen, had he been able to breathe.
The faint cry reached him again and Anakin was reminded of what he needed to do. Pushing everything aside, he forces his robotic hand out and dug the fingers into the ground and pulled himself up to it. The sand scraped along the open fresh burns, burying themselves inside, making it feel as though Anakin was dragging himself across shards of glass. He couldn't hold back the cries of pain, the tears that welled up, but couldn't fall as he continued his effort, to get to Padmé.
"Anakin..." A loud scream left his cracked and bleeding lips as he slowly pulled himself up once more. "Anakin." The voice was clear and concise to achieve his attention and his head lifted with agony, the sinful eyes falling on something he couldn't quite make out, a form that glowed bright.
"A-Are you-" Anakin tried to speak, but his throat was too dry, too swollen.
"An angel? Aren't you a funny little boy." It -she- stepped closer and it was liked it all snapped into focus. Her lips curled up into a knowing smile, her brown eyes lovingly gazed upon his monstrous form and her beauty mark set comfortably on her right cheek halfway between her nose and eye. His wife. His love. His very being. She was dressed in one of her flowing white gowns she would wear in the evenings on Naboo, sandals and her dark hair was billowing around her.
Anakin reached his hand out toward her with gritted teeth, even more tears rimming his eyes and she took careful steps to come down to him. She knelt, a few feet away reached out to stroke his angry hot flesh, but became blocked by view by white armor.
"Get Lord Vader onto a stretcher, we must hurry!" That voice belonged to his new master. Anakin was hardly aware of went on around him unless he was touched and pain was triggered. The last thing he remembered, before things went dark was Padmé's cool touch on his cheek that didn't hurt, but rather relieved his pain as he passed her and the words she spoke to him. "I'll wait for you, Ani. I know you'll do what's right." Then they were ripped from each other and darkness consumed his world.
