It started like this:
"Are you an angel?"
"A what?"
"An angel, I've written songs about them."
It started with shy smiles and soft kisses and that dangerous but addicting sensation of falling. It started so very differently than how it later ended.
They met in such a cliched way that later Padmé would laugh about it. He was leaning against the wall at the back of school, smoking a cigarette and snickering about something with his friends. She was rushing off to a student council meeting (which was then followed by a model UN meeting) when she crashed directly into him. Her books went flying everywhere. He dropped his cigarette and asked, unable to stop himself, "Are you an angel?"
Padmé had already been on her hands and knees, with difficulty due to the tight skirt she wore, looked up at him and asked, "A what?"
"An angel," Anakin responded as he dropped to his knees beside her, his cigarette forgotten as he helped pick up her things, "I've written songs about them."
She stopped, pushing a stray curl behind her ear and smiled at him softly, "You write songs?"
He blushed as he told her about his band, the Jedi, and their garage practices. Ignoring Obi-wan's wolf whistles and Ahsoka's taunts, Anakin asked Padmé if he could walk her to her meeting. It was her turn to grow red when she agreed. The walk to the classroom was filled with the brushing of backs and hands and nervous tucking of hair behind ears. Anakin, who constantly tried to appear cool, suave, and most importantly punk to the highest degree, thought he was ruining any chances with Padmé by being too awkward. He could feel his ears burning from his blushing and hoped his hair covered it. His hair didn't cover the top of his red ears but Padmé found it endearing. There was something sweet about this supposedly dark and imposing person stumbling over his words and glancing away because of her. When they reached the room where her meeting took place, both of them found themselves wishing that the walk was longer.
"Would you want—" Padmé started, turning to Anakin.
"Maybe we could—" Anakin said, nervously keeping his gaze down, "Uh, you go first."
Padmé shook her head and pulled her books closer to her chest, "No, I insist, what were you going to say?"
"Maybe we could, uh, hang out sometime?" Anakin asked, terrified she would say no, he was hoping he could disappear.
Instead, she gifted him with a stunning smile as she pushed a stray curl behind her ear, relaxing in her stance and loosening her grip, "I was about to ask the same thing."
They scheduled their first date for that Friday, Padmé scribbled her address down on a spare piece of paper and handed it to him. Before slipping into the classroom to prepare for her meeting, Padmé pressed a quick kiss to Anakin's cheek, feeling more impulsive than she usually did, and told him that she would see him later. As Anakin walked back to the side of the school where he and his friends hang out he sincerely hoped nobody noticed the ridiculously wide grin he wore, it would tarnish his hard-earned punk rock reputation. But if he was honest, he could care less about his reputation if it meant he could spend more time with Padmé.
The days leading up to Friday left both teenagers with butterflies in their stomachs, nervous to actually spend time with the sweet and beautiful person they had only spent moments with. But when their date began, all of their anxieties slipped away. They went out for pizza and then to the local arcade, both agreeing that movies are awful first dates because how can you get to know someone when the entire time you're just staring at the screen. Padmé maintained that she once went on a date to see the latest Star Wars movie and the date ended with her knowing more about Harrison Ford than about the guy she was out with. Anakin assured her that would not be the case when they were out together because he wanted to know everything about her. Shy smiles spread across both their faces at his words and Anakin leaned his head down and looked at her bashfully, a slight blush forming. Padmé responded by taking his hand and saying that he'd have to share just as much, in order to be fair of course.
They told jokes as they ate their pizza, they were both surprised to find that they shared a sense of humor, considering how they spent their free time was so different. But both of them were also interested in what the other did. Padmé's eyes shone when she spoke about her ambitions, the plans she had to improve the school and (hopefully, one day) the country. She wore her passion the way a queen wears a crown and Anakin knew in that moment that she was the most beautiful person he had ever met (and would ever meet). The pride and excitement that radiated off of Anakin when he spoke about the Jedi was contagious and Padmé found herself asking to come to his next practice, wanting to hear his music. The grin that spread across Anakin's face at her words was the brightest Padmé had ever seen and she swore that she would do whatever she could to see that smile again. When they were finishing dinner, Anakin noticed a bit of sauce on the top of Padmé's lip. Without thinking he swiped it away with his thumb. They both froze. Then, as if pulled together by gravity, they both leaned forward. Their first kiss was soft and tentative, both worried the other would pull away but too far down the rabbit hole of a crush to not kiss. When they pulled apart they were both blushing, but Padmé was relieved to see Anakin's stunning smile, and she was ecstatic to notice that it was brighter than before.
At the arcade, their interactions were a little less sweet. "You're going down, Skywalker," Padmé threatened, leaning across her side of the foosball table like a wrestler preparing for a match.
"You wish, Naberrie," Anakin replied with a smirk, his arms crossed against his chest, a proud look of certainty mocking Padmé's words.
"And if you're wrong?" Padmé asked, "What do I get if I win?"
"A kiss?" Anakin suggested, blushing a little.
Padmé shook her head, "Not good enough, I want a kiss and a song."
"Already done," Anakin said so quickly Padmé couldn't make out his exact words, which was his plan, he didn't want her to know he'd written a song about her before they even went on their first date, "And if I win you'll be my girlfriend."
"Deal," Padmé said, stretching a hand across the table to shake Anakin's.
Padmé lost the game. For the first time in her life the over-competitive perfectionist was happy to lose. Anakin was happy about it, too, if the passionate kiss Padmé got when she lost was anything to go by. When they said goodbye for the night Anakin gave her a parting kiss on the cheek, worried about her dad watching through the window. She laughed as she watched him drive away, wanting to hold on to the feeling of flying that she felt when his lips pressed against her cheek for the rest of the night.
Quickly, Anakin and Padmé became Anakin-and-Padmé, where you found one you found the other. During Padmé's meetings Anakin would either sit in the hall just outside the classroom, his back against the wall and his foot tapping against the ground to music only he heard, or in the back of the room, drumming a pencil against a desk and offering insight that nobody else in the meetings were actually interested in. Likewise, Padmé became a permanent fixture at band practices. She would sit in the garage tapping her foot to the rhythm as she worked on an assignment or reviewing the music.
It was clear to everyone in their lives that they made each other better. Anakin's school work improved with Padmé's help and comforting encouragement. His grades were higher than they ever were and teachers were no longer surprised to see him in class. For the first time in her life, Padmé was letting herself have fun. She had always been intense, dedicating herself to learning and extracurricular activities. The last time her parents or friends had seen her as carefree and happy as she was with Anakin was when she was in elementary school.
Their free time was spent together. They made each other happy and in high school that is such a rarity.
Some nights they would lay in the dark of the soccer field near Anakin's house and stare at the stars as they passed a blunt back and forth between each other. They would talk about everything. Sometimes they would talk about how infinite space was, how Anakin was convinced aliens were real (he would always insist that the truth is out there) and how Padmé used to dream of walking on the moon. Sometimes they would talk about the future, Padmé's ambitions in politics and her wistful dreams of also having a family. At those moments Anakin would take her hand and promise that with him by her side she would have both. Those nights Anakin would tell her about his fear that his band was going nowhere, his even greater fear that his band would go somewhere. She would take his hand and promise that no matter what happened, fame or not, she would be with him.
Sometimes there would be no talking. Sometimes it would just be their lips touching, their hands moving, and the stars watching. Those nights they would both walk home not sure if it felt like they were falling or flying.
She loved him. Truly, deeply, and desperately. Every day with him was better than the one before. Padmé's parents warned her about him, not fully comfortable about their little overachiever dating a wanna-be-rockstar. But they both had to admit he made her happy, and as long as that continued, they would support her. Despite that, Ruwee was skeptical about Padmé attending prom with Anakin. She rolled her eyes at his caution, "Dad, we've been dating for two years. I'm going with Anakin."
"I just want you to be safe," Her father said.
Smiling, she took her father's hand and promised, "I will be."
And, come the night of prom, Ruwee couldn't begrudge Anakin when he saw the look of pure adoration shine from the boy's face at the sight of Padmé in her dress. The smile spread across Padmé's face was the happiest her father had ever seen. She was radiant. They both were.
"Are you ready to party?" Padmé asked, striking an absurd dance pose, when she approached Anakin.
His reply was a blurted, "You look beautiful."
"You don't look so bad yourself."
After a flurry of pictures, the two teens left for the night, their hands clasped together. The dance was at a local hotel and waves of well-dressed teenagers were flowing into the building. As they entered, Anakin told Padmé she was the best looking of them all. She couldn't help but blush. After two years together he still stirred butterflies within her. Grinning at her, Anakin pulled Padmé into the ballroom. Surrounded by their friends, the two danced. The night seemed to fly by. At one point, Padmé felt like she nearly burst a rib when Anakin and Obi-Wan did a choreographed routine to Time after Time. During one of the many slow songs Ahsoka surprised the two of them and pulled Padmé away for the two girls to dance together. It was a night to remember. When the last song came on and most of the dancers had left, Anakin had his arms around Padmé, swaying slowly and pressing soft kisses to her cheek, her lips, her neck.
"Wanna get out of here?" He whispered in her ear as the song came to an end. The intimacy of the moment seemed to leave Padmé speechless and all she was capable of was a nod. Keeping his girlfriend in his arms, Anakin led her to the hotel front desk where he asked for his room key.
Padmé blinked at him, "You got us a room?"
"Is that too much?" Anakin asked, nervous, "If you don't want to we—"
Pressing a searing kiss to Anakin's lips, Padmé assured, "It's perfect."
They didn't break contact the entire way to their room, either holding hands, kissing, or leaning against the other, Anakin and Padmé never stopped touching. The touches heated up when the door to the room closed behind them. Padmé tugged at Anakin's suit jacket and he shrugged it off. Kissing and caressing, they moved towards the bed, Padmé laying on her back, still in her dress, and Anakin leaning above her, his dress shirt unbuttoned and ruffled.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Anakin asked.
Again, Padmé answered with a kiss, surging forward to capture his lips, she nodded. With her permission, Anakin unzipped her dress. As it fell to the floor he felt the air leave his lungs. If she was beautiful before, it was nothing compared to her in that moment, all her smooth skin on display except for what was hidden by her bra and panties. They were both nervous. They had fooled around before but they had never had sex. Stripping his own pants off, Anakin wrapped Padmé in his arms, kissing her. As they lay back onto the bed, Anakin moved further down her body. He pressed hot kisses along her collarbone and between her breasts, teasing at the line of her bra before she sat up and removed it herself.
He nipped at her nipples and caressed her breasts, satisfied by the moans she was breathing out and her body squirming below him. After laving her upper body with attention, Anakin moved further down, pressing kisses along her stomach as he pulled her underwear off. She moaned his name when his lips finally pressed against her clit. He teased and licked and listened to her for signs of what she liked.
"Ani," She pulled at his shoulders, "Come up here."
Crawling up her body to be face to face once more, Padmé captured his lips in a passionate kiss, tasting herself on his mouth. As they kiss, Anakin's fingers continued teasing her lower lips, keeping her aroused.
"Are you ready for this?" Anakin asked, again checking to see if she was certain. Padmé nodded. With her permission, Anakin lined up and entered her. It hurt less than she expected. It felt odd, if she was honest. But as he started moving, she felt pressure growing. His hands roamed her body and all too soon he was coming apart. He collapsed beside her, chest heaving, but upset to realize she didn't come.
"It's okay," She assured, running a hand through Anakin's disheveled hair, "We have ages to work on this. Practice makes perfect."
Grinning, Anakin mustered the energy to lean on his arms and kiss her once more, "I love you."
"I love you, too," Padmé sighed, curling up beside Anakin.
Padmé was the first person to know. Well, she was actually the fourth person, after the members of the Jedi found out. It was raining that day and in retrospect Padmé decided that it was an omen that they had all chosen to ignore. It was early in the day, too, on a Saturday. She woke to the sound of rain and incessant knocking on her front door. Grumbling about her parents never hearing anything, she wrapped herself in her bathrobe and trudged to the door. She barely had unlocked the door before Anakin was barreling in, soaking wet from running through the rain and across three neighborhoods in his excitement to see her, and wrapping her in his arms.
"Anakin!" Padmé yelped as he lifted her off the ground and spun her around. When he put her down she saw that he was beaming. His smile was so bright that he was like a lighthouse, calling her home. "What is it?" She asked, despite wanting to be annoyed with him not only waking her up but also getting her wet, "What's going on?" His happiness was contagious without her even knowing why he was so happy, she found herself smiling with him.
It seemed impossible but his smile brightened (Anakin was always proving her wrong) "We got a record deal."
The shriek Padmé let out was so shrill and loud that her parents finally woke up. They were perplexed when they came downstairs to find Anakin, still dripping wet, spinning Padmé around and laughing, both so ecstatic they were shining like stars. It was raining and in retrospect Padmé would realize that that moment was the beginning of the end.
Fame came for the Jedi like lightning. It often felt like they went from nobody to somebody in the blink of an eye. They were barely out of their graduation gowns before Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka were in a studio, recording their songs for their first album. Their record label provided them with a manager, Mace Windu, who Anakin vehemently believed hated him, and a producer, Sheev Palpatine, a kind old man who had been in the business and funded some of the biggest rock bands of the past decade. As the band began their first national tour, Padmé packed and left for college, kissing Anakin goodbye, not knowing when she would see him again.
"You're gonna be famous by the time I see you again," Padmé whispered against Anakin's lips.
He smiled a little and brushed a stray curl behind her ear, "Never too famous for you, though."
She laughed, hoping the mistiness in her eyes wasn't too visible (she was truly going to miss him), "I hope not! You'd still just be smoking cigarettes behind the school if it wasn't for me!"
"Is that so?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"Well isn't it that song about me that got the record deal?" Padmé said, "Maybe I should ask for some revenue? I deserve payment of some sort?"
In response Anakin pulled her in for a searing kiss before asking, "Is my love not enough?"
"It's more than enough." At her words, Anakin pulled her close to him. Pressing her head against Anakin's chest, Padmé tried to savor the moment. The love she felt in his arms, the safety she felt beside him, the devotion she felt for him. She let him know again how much she was going to miss him before they parted. Anakin walked with her to the car and watched, tears in his own eyes, as he watched Padmé drive away. For the first time since meeting they were a part. It was terrifying and already so very lonely for them both.
It ended like this:
"I don't know you anymore. Anakin, you're breaking my heart. I'll never stop loving you, but you are going down a path I can't follow."
"Because of Obi-Wan?"
"Because of what you've done, what you plan to keep doing."
It ended with tears and yelling and heartbreak. It ended so very differently than how it started.
It was the drugs that started it. Anakin would never tell anyone, but everyone knew it was Palpatine who took him by the hand and led him to the crack and the ecstasy and every other bad substance that he put into his body. And it was the drugs that led to the break up. For months, everyone had been telling Padmé to break up with Anakin but she wouldn't. She loved him more than anything. They had been together for five years. She believed that they could make it through anything, even drugs and fame and graduating college. She was wrong.
They had been fighting a lot, ever since he left the Jedi. She couldn't understand why he would leave his best friends for the manufactured group that was the Sith. She hated the new band. The members all had dark personas. On stage Anakin was no longer himself but Darth Vader. He no longer wrote songs about angels, everything was about darkness instead. Even when he was standing right beside her, Padmé found herself missing him. Which was probably one of the reasons they fought. Although, it was undeniable that most of the fighting was about the drugs. Padmé would beg him to get help and he would ignore her, dismiss her, yell at her. She would yell right back.
Unbeknownst to Anakin, Padmé often reached out to Obi-Wan about her concerns. When the band broke up Anakin claimed his friendship with the members were done but both Obi-Wan and Ahsoka still cared for Anakin. He was still their friend. Nights when the arguing was too much or Anakin was gone until sunrise, partying and doing god knows what else, Padmé would call Obi-Wan. They would talk and he would try to comfort her, to give suggestions on how to help Anakin. Nothing worked though, Anakin wasn't going to give up the drugs, the parties, or his new band.
She hadn't been able to make it to any of the Sith's concerts before that night, with her internship over the summer taking up so much time. So, one month into Padmé's fall semester of senior year she was excited to spend a weekend with Anakin. She was hoping for no fighting, although she highly doubted that would happen, it seemed that every time they spoke they ended up arguing. But she couldn't deny the weekend had started off well. She met Anakin at his hotel room and had a very satisfying reunion. He pressed a soft kiss against her lips as he climbed out of bed, before he even shrugged his shirt back on, he popped a pill. Padmé bit her tongue as she watched him get ready for the show, she didn't want to argue but she was angry and hurt that he cared so little about her worries for him that he would take those god-awful drugs right in front of her. She didn't confront him though, instead she climbed out of bed and took his hand, slipping his shirt back off and urging to join her in the shower first. With a scorching kiss to her lips he agreed.
During the concert, which Padmé wouldn't tell Anakin but wasn't nearly as good as shows he did with the Jedi, she stood in the wings. The wink Anakin flashed at her and its accompanying smirk thrilled her. For that moment, it was like nothing had changed. But that wasn't true.
When Anakin first started touring the nights Padmé visited were never party nights for him. Instead he would go back to his trailer or hotel room and spend the night with her. But with the Sith, that was different. Palpatine said, seemingly apologetic but with a glint in his eye that Padmé did not trust, that Anakin had to go to the after-party for publicity reasons, of course, and that it would really be best if Padmé, as his caring girlfriend, just waited for him at the hotel room. The old Anakin would have ignored Palpatine and gone to spend time with Padmé, instead she found herself alone in Anakin's empty hotel room, her boyfriend off doing things she could only imagine for the entire night. She was angry. He didn't even fight to spend more time with her. He just blindly agreed with Palpatine. Without thinking, Padmé grabbed the nearest pillow and chucked it across the room. Anger bubbling in her chest, she threw the next pillow, and the pillow after that, until there were none left. She huffed as she stared at the temporary destruction she did. Slowing her breathing, Padmé found that throwing the pillows didn't alleviate the hurt in her chest. Her hand ghosted over the vase beside her, almost tempted to throw that, as well, but she didn't let herself. She knew the destruction wouldn't help her feel better. She just felt empty and alone, like Anakin wasn't just gone for the night but gone from her life. She tried to ignore the feeling but it was one that had been with her constantly since the breakup of the Jedi. Padmé ended up falling asleep, alone, and curled up on the couch in the suite with the television playing softly in the background as she tried to wait up for Anakin.
It was late when Padmé woke up. Late enough that some would consider it early morning. And she woke with a start. Raucous laughter filled the room as Anakin, with his arms draped around the waists of two scantily clad girls, stumbled into the room. One of the girls tugged on the neck of Anakin's collar while the other pressed sloppy kisses against his exposed neck. In that moment Padmé shattered, as did the vase which she threw against the wall. She had stopped herself from throwing it before but she no longer cared. She wasn't sure if she could care about anything at all. The crash startled the girls. It would have startled Anakin if he hadn't been in such an inebriated state.
"Get out," Padmé hissed at the girls. The fury that seemed to radiate off of her in waves was enough to spook the girls into leaving, even someone as famous and attractive as Darth Vader. In that moment Padmé realized that was who he was. He was Darth Vader. The drugs and booze had made Anakin only a fond memory in his own body.
A lazy smile spread across Anakin's face and he tried to stumble towards his girlfriend, "Padmé, babe—"
"How could you?" She asked, her throat tight. The words she knew she was going to have to say felt like a noose resting around her neck. She was going to have to end it.
"That? That was nothing babe," Anakin said, apparently unaware of how furious Padmé was.
"Nothing? Cheating on me is nothing?"
In an instant Anakin's demeanor changed. He grew angry, his features darkened, and his words grew harsh, "That wasn't cheating! That was my job!"
"How is that part of your job, Anakin?" Padmé snapped, "And, what, the drugs are part of the job, too?"
"You don't know anything about the work I do!" Anakin yelled.
"Work? You don't do any work anymore, don't you fucking lie to me, Anakin. That isn't your music you're singing anymore, this isn't even you," She gestured towards his outfit, "I don't know you anymore. Anakin, you're breaking my heart. I'll never stop loving you, but you are going down a path I can't follow. I can't be with Darth Vader and I can't be with you if you're going to throw your life away!"
"Because of Obi-Wan?" He asked, "This is because I left the fucking Jedi,isn't it! You've been a bitch ever since then!"
"No! This is because of what you've done, what you plan to keep doing." Padmé, "The drugs, the sex, the parties. You're killing yourself Anakin and you're too fucking blind to see it!" Grabbing her purse from the table before her Padmé marched across the room, "I'm leaving. I can't do this anymore."
As she passed Anakin he grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him, "You don't get to just walk out on me! You can't just call it over and walk out!" For the first time since meeting him, Padmé was scared of Anakin. She struggled against his tight grip, his first clenched around her wrist was forceful. It hurt. The tears she had been crying over her heartbreak became cries of pain.
"Anakin," Padmé begged, "Anakin, please let me go, you're hurting me." For a moment, his grip tightened even more and Padmé could have sworn she felt her heart stop from the fear. But the look of terror on her face stopped him. Her eyes were big and pleading, she looked small and fragile. Anakin saw his large hand pinning her wrist up in the air and he dropped it. His eyes widened and he took a step back. He had never hurt her before. He thought he could never hurt her but there she was before him, broken hearted and a bruise already forming.
"Padmé," He started, softly, trying to apologize. She didn't let him.
"Don't," Padmé shook her head, holding her injured wrist close to her as she backed away from Anakin, "Just don't."
He stood in the empty room with a shattered vase a few feet from him and the hand that hurt Padmé lose before him for what felt like a lifetime. He felt like a monster. She sat in Obi-Wan's car, thankful for her friend to pick her up, crying with his reassuring hand on her shoulder until well after the sun had risen. She felt broken. She couldn't help but think of the vase she threw and how her heart probably looked very much like it.
It started like this:
"Are you an angel?"
"Anakin…"
"I thought I'd never see you again."
"I thought I'd lost you."
It started with apologies and confessions and soft caresses. It started again, and that's all that really mattered.
"Skywalker is living high! For the past month rumors have been swirling about the party boy living up to his reputation. These rumors proved to be true when last night the Sith front man, also known as Darth Vader for you folks listening, was arrested, that's right arrested, last night for a DUI. Sheev Palpatine, the producer and manager for the band has yet to release a statement. It's hard to believe that ju—"
Disgusted by the gossip spewing from the radio, Padmé turned it off. It was impossible to listen to music without hearing more about Anakin's downward spiral. It seemed as if every hour he was doing something more reckless and despite herself, it still hurt Padmé. She didn't want to love him anymore, but it had only been a month and any thought of him hurting caused her chest to tighten. She had even been getting sick, vomiting some mornings and late evenings. It was the stress, she was sure. The stress from worrying about Anakin, from telling herself not to worry about him, from missing him, from loving him. It had to be the stress. There was no other reason she could be sick. Midterms were coming up, that had to play a part in it as well. Her second to last midterms of college. Focusing on her studying, instead of what the voices on the radio had to say about her ex-boyfriend, Padmé felt a wave of nausea wash over her. It had nearly been a month of constant sickness, she was used to it. But as Padmé rushed to the toilet to empty her stomach for the third time that day a thought occurred to her, a thought that had been pushed so far back in her mind that she had managed to ignore it up until the point. What if it wasn't the stress?
And just like that Padmé's world shifted on its axis, for the second time in just over a month. First, she lost Anakin. Then she was pregnant with his baby. She was pregnant. Padmé dropped her head into her hands as she looked at the positive pregnancy test that she had just run out to buy. She was pregnant. No matter how many times she thought it, she could not process it. She was pregnant and single and about to graduate from undergrad with the goal of going to law school. She had no idea how she could go to law school as a single mother to a newborn let alone how she could finish senior year in her condition. She was going to be that girl who walked across the stage to get her diploma while heavily pregnant. Despite herself, Padmé started to cry. Never had she felt so alone.
But as she sat on the edge of her bed crying, Padmé couldn't stop the warm feeling that slowly spread through her body. A feeling a happiness started in her heart and spread through her in tendrils, until her entire body felt like it was glowing and her tears subsided. She was pregnant. A giggle slipped from Padmé's slips, surprising her. She was pregnant. Padmé smiled in awe and gently placed a hand against the still flat plain of her stomach. She was pregnant and no matter how alone or terrified she felt, that was wonderful. She was going to have a child and for a moment the fear faded and all Padmé felt was glee, her baby was a blessing.
Determined to give her baby the best life possible, Padmé stopped wallowing. Within a week of learning she was pregnant Padmé became more active than she had been since high school. She spent time with her friends, met with her teachers, and worked hard in her clubs. Already president of her university's debate club, Padmé called a meeting and announced her goal for them to win nationals. She went to her favorite professors and asked for extra work, for anything she could do to improve, telling them she wanted to be ready for law school, or whatever else may come, after graduation. Anakin may have been gone from her life, but Padmé was thriving. Part of her knew she was doing so much to convince herself she would be able to be a single mother, part of her also just wanted to make the most of her senior year.
"Coruscant University's debate team is officially the best in the nation. Led to victory by the club's president, Padmé Naberrie, the team had a surprising win, defeating the previous champions, Yale and Harvard. Surprising those invested in collegiate debate, which is more people than our viewers would expect, we have with us this morning Miss Nab—"
Anakin just had the news on in the background, he didn't even turn it on, one of the two girls who were casually walking around the room looking for a missing bra had said she wanted to know the weather. But as soon as he heard Padmé's name, Anakin was enthralled. All thought of the two half-dressed and willing girls with him left, the only thing Anakin could concentrate on was her. He sat up in bed, the sheet around him pooling around his waist as Anakin leaned forward, as if getting closer to the television screen would actually bring him closer to her. For the past three months he had managed to avoid all thought of her, mostly through the distractions of drugs, drinking, and sex, but with her in front of him smiling and making small talk on the morning news, Anakin couldn't believe he ever managed to get her out of his mind.
She looked radiant, her brown curls resting against her shoulders and the wide grin of pride spread across her face as she spoke about her victory enchanted him. She laughed at something the news anchor said that Anakin didn't hear. Her laugh. He had never thought he'd hear it again, not after he hurt her. Guilt churned in Anakin's stomach as Padmé thanked the reporter for her time and the segment ended. He had hurt her. Anakin dropped his head into his hands, for the first time realizing the extent of his actions. She had loved him so fiercely and Anakin repaid her by hurting himself, by hurting her, by throwing it all away.
"Get out," Anakin suddenly said.
The two girls looked at him in confusion, one of them draped in a robe and the other wearing only underwear. One of them, the blonde one, brushed her hair over her shoulder and asked, "So we're not doing this again? I had a lot of fun last night and was thinking we could have some more fun, y'know?" She started sauntering towards him but Anakin raised his hand to tell her to stop.
"Get your things and get out," Anakin said again, this time his voice seeped with anger, "Get out."
"Geez, sure thing Vader," The blonde sneered, "What a bastard," She whispered to the other girl as they left, clothing barely on. But Anakin didn't care what they thought. He didn't care what anyone thought except for Padmé and he was finally sober enough, both from seeing her and from waking up and not taking anything immediately, to realize he had thrown it all away. He should have listened to her when she said he was hurting himself. He should have listened to her when she begged him to spend time with her, when she said she cared. He should have listened to her and loved her more than he ever did. She deserved better and maybe, Anakin thought, he could one day be that better. That night, he checked into the closest rehab place.
Everything was frozen over and lifeless, except for Anakin. Three months after entering into rehab he left feeling more like himself than he had in years. His mind was clear and his heart was open. Even the bleak grey of February couldn't dampen his spirits. Without Palpatine feeding him drugs and booze and girls he no longer felt numb. Thanks to his time in rehab, for the first time in months Anakin felt human. For the first time in months he could feel at all.
The very first thing Anakin did when he left the rehab facility was take a taxi to Coruscant University. After his time in rehab, he was better, a better man, a better person, and hopefully, if Padmé was willing, a better boyfriend. And if she wasn't willing, she at least deserved an apology. She had been right about everything. He had been killing himself and he had blocked out every person who cared, especially her.
During the hour drive to Padmé's campus, Anakin was jittery. He kept wringing his hands, bouncing his leg, and wringing his hands. The cab driver asked him twice if he was okay and Anakin just shrugged it off, he couldn't talk about the thoughts spiraling through his head with a stranger. He knew it was empty hope to want Padmé to forgive him, but he had to try. She was the best thing to happen to him, better by far than the first time he performed his own song, had a sold-out concert, or won an award. Nothing compared to her and he was terrified (he was almost positive, in fact) that he had realized that too late.
He didn't even know what to do when he got to the Coruscant University campus. Just like most days since he entered rehab, he had to push away guilt. If he had been a good boyfriend, a good person, he would have visited more often. But he hadn't. It was his first time on campus despite his (ex) girlfriend being a second semester senior. Not knowing where to go, Anakin pulled his jacket hood up and walked toward what he assumed was the center of campus, he hoped he would be able to figure things out from there. Due to the frigid February air, very few students were walking around the campus, those that were, Anakin noticed, were moving quickly and looking down, wrapped tightly in their jackets and scarves. Everyone that was, except for two people. They were as warmly dressed as the rest of campus, but they were standing together outside of one of the buildings.
For a moment Anakin thought he was the luckiest man in the world. He didn't possibly think he would find her that easily, but there she was. Padmé was there, more beautiful than ever, with her cheeks flush from the cold and her curls frizzy from the static of her hat and fanning out around her. Anakin wanted to call to her, let her know she was there, he was sorry, that he loved her. For a moment, his heart was full to the brim. But then his heart plummeted when he realized who she was talking to. Whoever she was with was tall, and Anakin had to admit, he was handsome. His dark skin contrasted from Padmé's, which was clear from how close they were standing, her arm wrapped around his.
Too far away to hear what they were saying; all Anakin could do was watch. Watch as Padmé turned on her toes and her protruding stomach come into his line of sight (making him shatter because she was pregnant with another man's baby). Watch as the man pulled out a black jewelry case from his pocket (making him burn because he was too late as another man proposed). Watch as she pressed a kiss to the other man's cheek (making him sick knowing that it would never be him in that position again).
He was too late. He knew that there was a chance it would happen. He had no right to her, no claim, after how awful he had been to her. But he had held on hope and in that moment it was lost. He couldn't go apologize to her, not when she was so clearly happy, not when it would only make things worse. He couldn't hurt her again. She didn't deserve that. Anakin turned away and slowly trudged away from campus, feeling like he was leaving a part of him behind.
Shoulders hunched, Anakin wasn't watching where he was going. Which was why he didn't realize when he walked into the street the cross sign wasn't on. Which was why he didn't see the car coming. Which was why the impact was a shock. And then he couldn't watch anything at all because it all went black.
"I'm planning on proposing to Breha tonight."
Tightening her grip on Bail's arm, which she was holding to keep her steady on the icy sidewalk, Padmé grinned, "Oh, Bail, that's wonderful! Do you have the ring with you? Can I see it?"
"Yeah, it's right here," Bail chuckled at his friend's excitement. Having met both Breha and Padmé freshman year, the three of them were very close. It was Padmé who convinced Bail that Breha liked him, so he wanted her to be the first to know about the engagement.
Padmé turned towards Bail to get a good look as he opened the black velvet box to show off the simple diamond ring, "It's beautiful!" Pushing herself up on her tiptoes, Padmé pressed a warm kiss against Bail's cheek, "She's going to love it. I'm so happy for the two of you."
Bail shrugged, "Well she hasn't said yes yet."
"As if she would ever say no," Padmé replied, nudging him in the side, "The two of you are disgustingly in love." She tried to ignore the clench in her gut at her own words. Padmé had once been disgustingly in love, too. One of the twins which kicked inside her at that moment was a reminder of what she lost. Of who she still loved.
Sensing the sadness in Padmé, Bail said, "It's okay to miss him, Padmé."
She nodded, "I know, I know. But don't worry about me right now. This is a happy day. Don't let the sad pregnant girl get in your way."
"You could never be in my way, Padmé."
Padmé was about to reply when the sound of tires screeching and glass shattering filled the air. Someone further up the quad yelled for someone to call for an ambulance. Without thinking, both Padmé and Bail hurried towards the accident. In the middle of the intersection to leave campus there was a man, clearly unconscious, pinned by his right arm underneath a car. The driver of the car was on their knees beside the man, trying to wake him up.
"Bail, go call for help," Padmé ordered as she hurried towards the injured man, "I know a little first aid." She told the driver as she approached. Dropped to her knees beside the frantic driver, Padmé moved the hood away from the man's face so that she could check for his pulse by his neck. As soon as the hood was moved her world turned upside down.
"Anakin," She gasped, suddenly growing more frantic than the driver, "Anakin, Anakin can you hear me? Can you open your eyes? Anakin?" Words spilled out of her mouth without her control until all she was doing was repeating his name. She held his face in her hands, stroking his cheeks, the eyelids closed and covering his clear blue eyes, his nose, the scar across his eye from a childhood accident. She was so desperate to do something, to help him, to see any sign that he was okay, that Padmé didn't realize she was crying until one her tears fell on his face.
What was he even doing there, she wondered. She had heard on the radio that he had been in rehab and not much else, the news didn't talk about him unless he was doing something destructive. She couldn't understand how he had ended up on her campus, unconscious and bleeding. She didn't even care why he was there as long as he would wake up and be okay. She needed him to be okay. God, she needed him. She had missed him so desperately and there he was, and he was still out of reach. And if she lost him like this, she knew she would never recover. Not with him never knowing about the twins. About how she really felt. That she still loved him. That she still needed him.
As panic swirled within her so did the twins, feeling her distress, they kicked within her. Not even the sound of the approaching sirens calmed Padmé. Or the words of "I'm his girlfriend," that slipped so easily from her mouth when she insisted she ride with him in the ambulance.
If being honest, Anakin would confess that he was relieved to lose his arm. He wasn't happy, nobody in their right mind would be happy to lose a limb, but he was relieved. To him, it felt like a way to guarantee he'd stay clean. In rehab, they had gone over the fact that the best way to stay clean would be to break habits, don't spend time with the people who you used with, and change your lifestyle to avoid falling back into the same ways. And when Anakin woke up without his arm he realized his habits had to be broken, he couldn't keep being the frontman and lead guitarist for the Sith with just one arm. He was free of Palpatine and free of the pressure. It was a little scary to him how okay he was about the fact that he lost his arm but he had more important things to think about, like Padmé, who was curled up in an uncomfortable chair pulled close to his hospital bed.
When Anakin opened his eyes and saw her there, his first thought was that he was dead. There was no possible way that she was there for him, except if he was in heaven and it was his perfect paradise. But judging by the missing arm and intense pain, he wasn't dead. Which meant she was really there, in his hospital room. He didn't know what to do, once he realized she was really there. Should he wake her? But after a few moments she stirred on her own, her eyes fluttering open and meeting his.
At the sight of him awake she surged forward towards him, hugging him tightly for a moment before pulling away, "Anakin! Thank god, you're okay. I've been so worried, I was here all night. When I saw you pinned there under that car I lost it, I was a mess, I thought you were doing to die Anakin, and you never would—"
"Are you an angel?" He asked, dazed, and barely realizing he was cutting her words off.
Taking his closest hand (his only hand) into hers, Padmé sighed, "Anakin…" She seemed to have collected her emotions in an instant, no longer spilling out words.
She looked like she was about to say something Anakin wouldn't want to hear, so he started speaking, "I'm so sorry, Padmé. You were right, about everything. And I know I've fucked up. I know I've fucked everything up but I have missed you so much, Padmé. And I need you to know that I got clean, I am clean, for three months now. Because I realized you were right that I was losing myself that I didn't like who I was and I'm sorry I hurt you and I'm sorry I didn't realize sooner. I thought I'd never see you again after we broke up, I thought you'd never want to see me again. And I know I don't deserve forgiveness, I don't deserve anything from you, but I need you to know how truly, deeply, sorry I am."
Tears were forming at the corners of Padmé's eyes and she tightened her grip on Anakin's hand, "When I saw you pinned down by that car, unconscious and bleeding, I thought I'd lost you, again. I thought I'd never get to tell you…"
"Tell me what?"
A sad smile spread across Padmé's face as she choked on a sob, her voice was tight when she said, "About our babies."
Looking at her rounded stomach, Anakin felt the world tilt off its axis. "Ours?" He asked, looking up at her with wide eyes.
She nodded, as her tears finally started to fall.
"I love you," Anakin said, not wanting to miss another moment, "I should have said that more often and I should have shown it to you better but I love you, I never stopped loving you."
"I love you, too, Anakin," Padmé replied, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand, "I think I always will."
In that moment, just holding her hand and talking to her, Anakin was sure they were going to be okay. Maybe not immediately and maybe not soon, but one day they would be okay.
It continued like this:
"I'm going to kill you, Skywalker."
"You're doing great, just a little longer."
"This is the happiest moment of my life"
It started with loving threats and painful pushes and the beautiful sound of young lungs taking their first breath as the cries of babies filled the room.
The nurses found it endearing how much more panicked Anakin was than Padmé. She rolled through the doors of the hospital in the required wheelchair breathing heavily but radiating calm. Her frantic boyfriend was behind her, pushing the wheelchair and nearly hyperventilating. Going through the hallways of the hospital, so absorbed in the fact that the babies were coming, neither Anakin nor Padmé heard the murmurs of, "Is that Darth Vader? No way is he here." But it was Darth Vader, or more aptly the artist formerly known as Darth Vader. It was Anakin, Padmé, and their soon to be born twins.
Labor was longer than either of them expected, despite the warnings from the baby books. As her contractions came closer together and with greater force, the curses Padmé flung at her boyfriend grew harsher, "I'm going to kill you, Skywalker. I'm going to murder you. You think I was mad when we broke up? That was nothing compared to what I'm feeling now. How could you do this to me?"
In reply Anakin would just brush her hair from her face or give her more ice chips. He would do whatever he could to ease her pain, which as the expectant father and not being the one physically pushing our watermelon sized children (as Padmé so often put it) wasn't much.
"You're doing great," Anakin said, kissing her forehead, when the doctors finally told her she was ready to start pushing, "Just a little longer."
Labor ended abruptly. After hours of pain in what felt like a heartbeat two bundles of baby were being handed to Anakin and Padmé. Both were cleaned and deemed healthy. It felt like in an instant the family of four was alone. Anakin looked down in a daze at the scrunched-up face of his newborn son. His son. Luke. Beside him was Padmé who held their daughter close to her chest. His daughter. Leia. Their children. If Anakin lived a million years he was sure he would never be able to repay Padmé for the gift she had given him that night, the gift of their children. Glancing between the newborns in ever growing awe, Anakin couldn't help but think of how close he was to losing it all. The high of holding his son was better than any drug he had ever tried, and Anakin had tried a lot. With all the mistakes he had made along the way, he would do them all again if it meant Luke and Leia would be there. It seemed as if his whole life had led up to that moment, the best moment, the moment his children came into the world and nothing else mattered.
With a glance at Padmé, who was slowly stroking a finger down the smooth plane of her daughter's cheek, Anakin said, "This is the happiest moment of my life."
"Mine too," Padmé replied with a smile before leaning over to kiss their son on his forehead and capture Anakin's lips with her own.
From the moment they were born, the only songs Luke and Leia ever heard from their father were the sweetest of lullabies. That was what they all deserved.