Author's Note: They already know it's twins. How couldn't they? Is George trying to imply that Padme - an affluent woman on an affluent planet with more technology than our current society - never got one single prenatal checkup? Please.

…..

Padmé bites her lip, watching the city blur past through the speeder window.

"Bail," she says as another shuddering pain grips her, "I need you to call Anakin."

Bail gives her a worried smile. "I already did. He's meeting us at the medcenter."

Padmé nods her gratitude, leaning her head back against the seat. Anakin had been dreaming that something scary might happen, but she never believed him. She'd told him it was natural to be worried but that everything would be fine, and was he still seeing the Jedi Mind-Healers regularly about his excessive fears? She had never actually considered what it would be like if something did go wrong, not until the pains and the bleeding had started in the middle of the senatorial dinner.

After a pause, Padmé asks, "Who told you?"

Bail laughs gently. "It was Mon's preferred theory. We haven't breathed a word, I swear."

Padmé nods again, grimacing.

Bail is incredibly calm. She feels awful for getting him involved in this, after all the heartbreak and emergency room visits he and Breha have been through. He doesn't talk about it often, but Padmé is one of the few people who know that the past two years have brought the Organas a lot of dashed hopes.

Bail parks the speeder and gets out to offer her an arm. He frowns at the frightened tears on Padmé's face.

"Twins are often a bit early," he offers.

"Not this early," Padmé whispers. Bail can't deny that.

They don't have to wait. The triage droid takes one look at Padmé and whisks her off to a private room in the back of the emergency center. Bail promises to wait in the atrium until Anakin arrives.

Padmé barely has time to worry, with everyone asking her a million questions. They give her an IV and run more tests than she can keep track of.

Twenty minutes later, Anakin sweeps into the room with a feral look in his eyes. "What's wrong? Padmé, what's going on?"

"Ani," Padmé happily accepts his arms around her. "I don't know yet. I'm waiting to hear."

"Are you alright? Are they alright?"

"It's just a little bleeding—"

"Bleeding!?" he yelps.

Padmé wonders if he sees how close she is to panicking. If he gets started, then they'll both be a wreck. "You cannot freak out on me, Anakin. I need you."

Anakin nods and sits down, although it's clear his control over himself is tenuous at best. To his credit, he listens calmly and holds her hand while the doctor explains that they are going to give her medication to stop the labor. It's too risky for the babies to be born this premature. They're worried about her blood pressure, which is inexplicably high, but they expect to send her home in the morning if it resolves.

Padmé sends an apologetic message to Bail, assuring him that she is fine. Someone offers Anakin a cot in Padmé's room for the night, and he accepts even though he knows the rumors of their affair already circulating through Coruscant's tackier news sources are about to quadruple.

Anakin puts a hand on her belly, and she places her own hands on top of his. None of it matters as long as their babies are alright. Padmé hadn't wanted to have them here, in an unfamiliar medcenter so very far from home.

"I think I'll start making arrangements to go to Naboo," Padmé says. "I'm supposed to stay another month, but…"

"You can't go yet," Anakin interrupts.

"I'll be able to work from there, at least on some—"

"What about—"

"Ani." Padmé stands her ground. "I want to be close to home, with my family and my regular doctor—in case something happens again."

"What about me? Don't you want to be close to me, if something happens?"

"Come with me."

"I can't."

Padmé looks at him. They haven't discussed yet what they are going to do. Whether Anakin is going to move to Naboo, and if so, what he's going to tell the Order. The scandal might end Padmé's career, and it will definitely end Anakin's. But Padmé is hoping he will take that risk—for her, for them all.

"We've been putting off thinking about it," Padmé whispers.

Anakin runs his fingers through his hair, tugging at his scalp. "Let's talk about it in the morning," he growls.

And Padmé has to admit that sounds nice. Sleep now, worry later.

Anakin tosses around on his cot, wondering if the nightmares will be better or worse now. An hour ago he'd thought they were coming true before his eyes.

Hours later, Anakin is dozing lightly when a dull tone catches his attention. Something is beeping.

He sits up and puts a hand on the side rail of Padmé's bed. She's awake too, blinking heavily.

"Are you okay?" he whispers.

"Hmm." Padmé lifts her hand to brush her knuckles against his as they grip the railing. He takes her hand. It feels limp in his, as if she doesn't have the strength to hold onto him.

"Padmé? Are you awake?"

"Mm-hmm," she mumbles.

"Do you feel alright?"

"I think…maybe…" Padmé's gaze wanders away from his face. She grimaces and her back arches in pain. After a long moment, she asks, "Ani, where are we?"

A droid comes to check on the machine that's beeping. When it sees that Padmé is having contractions again, it rolls off in search of help.

Help appears as if out of thin air, droids and people moving efficiently around them. Padmé's blood pressure is dangerously high, they're not happy with her lab results, her liver is inflamed.

"Congratulations Ms. Amidala, you're having your babies tonight," a doctor informs Padmé. Then over her shoulder she tells someone to get an epidural ready.

"No," Padmé hears Anakin bark. "No, you said before that it's too risky."

"Change of plans."

"What?!"

Padmé is mostly out of it, but she feels Anakin's hand pull away from hers as he stands to argue with the doctor, and squeezes it, hoping he will stay.

"Ani, I wanted them to be born on Naboo," she whispers.

"I know," Anakin says. He is visibly shaking.

"Ani," she insists. "They're too small—too small to even breathe on their own."

"Ms. Amidala, there is a risk either way, but your condition won't reverse until they are born. The longer you wait, the greater the risk to your heart and liver. And the damage could negatively affect the twins as well. This is the safest option for all three of you."

Padmé doesn't care. The doctor's words aren't making sense. This isn't at all like it's supposed to be. What they've been looking forward to. Somehow hoping for things to be perfect has morphed into just hoping that things will be okay.

"Padmé…," Anakin says. "It sounds like we have no choice."

Hearing him admit it convinces her that it must be true, because if Anakin thought he could argue his way into getting what they want, he would be in a strop by now.

"Okay," she whispers.

…

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