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Chapter 38

Acacia stood on the balcony, letting the morning sun shine on her face, the soft breeze ripple her hair; her violet eyes closed as she meditated in the Force. Suddenly, a sound like static on an old HoloNet sliced through her mental visage, and she sensed the disturbance. Her head twitched as a deep foreboding washed over her. Something was not right.

She felt for her brother's ForceMark, sensed the paralyzing shock Anakin felt. Surprised, she pushed further, took a peek into his brain, and saw all that he did.

Oh Force, Acacia whispered, zooming toward their bedroom. When she threw the door open, she saw her brother blink, snapping back to reality. But still, he could barely make sense of it all: Padme crying out in pain, blood illuminated by the sinister sunlight shining through the window.

How could this be happening? Padme had been fine last night.

Hadn't she?

Acacia sensed her brother's confusion and shouted, "Try a Healing!"

Mechanically, the Jedi moved his hands over his wife's body, trying to summon the Force, push its essence into her. But it didn't respond. Anakin was still too deep in shock for concentration to be near possible and, what was more, he had no idea what the problem was.

Sensing his failure, Acacia jumped onto the bed, shoved her brother's hands out of the way, and attempted the Healing herself. Nothing. The two siblings tried it together. Still, Padme whimpered, eyes rolled back, barely conscious for the pain.

Acacia sat back, shaking her head. "We have to know what it is!" she said. And Anakin knew that. He knew it was hopeless. But that didn't stop him from trying again.

"Anakin! Anakin." Acacia grabbed him and shook his shoulders, gesturing toward where the blood was coming from. "I think the babies are coming."

"But it's too early," he protested, voice a husky, terrified whisper, and the pure fear in his eyes was something Acacia had never seen in her brother.

And that scared her more than anything.

Nevertheless, they'd promised to stay by each others' sides, to help the other no matter what. So, this was just going to be one of those days when she would have to be the strong one. "I know," Acacia said, forcing her voice to sound calm. "But we have to get Sola and Jobal. Maybe they'll be able to help."

Anakin nodded once. "All right."

The girl arose, planning to run all the way to the Naberrie's house if she had to, when she heard a knock on the front door. Muttering about the inconvenience, she ran to the foyer and threw the door open. "Now's not really a go- Jobal! Sola!"

"Hi!" the latter smiled. "Mama was worried. So we thought we'd-" A cry from the bedroom stopped the sentence cold, freezing the fragmented bits in Sola's mouth as her face froze in shock.

"Good thing you came by," the twelve-year-old said grimly, dragging them in. "Something's wrong with Padme."

"Oh, my baby!" Jobal murmured, hurrying to the bedroom. Sola and Acacia were right on her heels.

"What happened?" Sola whispered in horror, when they shoved open the bedroom door and saw it all: Anakin, Padme. The blood.

Acacia shook her head. "I don't know."

"All right." Jobal took charge. "I need the two of you" - She gestured to Anakin and Acacia - "out. Sola, I'm going to need your help."

"But I-"

"Anakin," Acacia stopped her brother. "Come on. They're going to help her."

Acacia watched darkness take over her brother's eyes, turning the blue a feral, glinting indigo. He didn't want to leave his wife, not now.

Ani, come on!

His eyes softened, the wildness dissipating, leaving behind desperation, despondence, and a fear far deeper than any Acacia had ever seen. Slowly, her brother rose, eyes still fixed on Padme, who had fallen silent. "We should get her to a medic."

Jobal shook her head, pushing past him. "She'd have the babies in the speeder. We're going to have to deliver them here. I've got some nursing experience," she assured. "Now leave. We'll call if we need you." Muttering to herself, she added, "I knew I shouldn't have left her alone with him."

But Anakin didn't possess even the presence of mind to take offense. All he could do was stare at his wife, at her twitching body, her closed eyes, her mouth half-open in agony. And when his sister dragged him out and the door shut in his face, Anakin felt as if half his heart had been ripped out and trampled into the ground.

Which was a remarkably mind-clearing experience. Anakin spent the next ten minutes pacing back and forth in the living room, his mind going crazy with worry. Acacia tried to send him soothing messages through their telepathy, but since he could now sense that she was nearly as scared as he, they weren't as comforting as she would've hoped.

And so they waited, Acacia sitting and staring at her brother, Anakin pacing and staring at the door. Whenever he heard Padme cry out, he flinched, turned towards the bedroom, thought about racing in - and restrained himself just in time.

He could do nothing for her now. Useless, he was. Absolutely useless.

I told you you would need me. The voice of Darth Sidious crawled up his spine, whispering between his ears. Anakin tried to push the voice away, but it seemed quite happy to stay where it was. I told you, didn't I? Now she's dying in there.

And it's all your fault.

Red started in on the sides of his vision, but this time, he didn't bother to push it off. The fury - with himself, with Sidious, with the Sith, with the Jedi - it focused his mind, helped him concentrate. So he held onto it, allowing the fierce emotions to sharpen his vision and hone his senses. He felt the Force flowing through him, sensed the power suffusing into his veins. He was Padme's husband. Father of her children. There had to be something he could do to save them.

He was vaguely aware of Acacia calling his name, of the worried undertone to her voice, but he pushed it away. Leave me alone, Caish, he growled. He had to concentrate. And she was getting in his way.

Anakin half-noticed a pain throbbing on his chest, a bothersome pang just over his heart. But his own discomfort was irrelevant at this point. All that mattered was finding a way - any way - to relieve Padme's.

You know who to call for this, Sidious' voice again, and, while Anakin didn't exactly push it away, he did ignore it. Even if he thought it wise to call on the Sith Lord for help, he couldn't. Even Sidious couldn't get here in time.

And whatever Sola and Jobal were doing in the room, it wasn't helping; he could sense Padme's agony, her life force draining, even when she fell silent. Acacia? All she could do was sit there and stare at him, fear clear in her young face and large, violet eyes.

No, he was on his own. He and whatever power ran through his veins - Light or Dark, it didn't matter - that was all that could save Padme now.

And this time it would be different. Different from his dreams. Different from Tatooine, with his mother. Different from every other time he hadn't saved the ones he loved.

Because this time he would not fail.

Pain. Agony. Anguish. It's all she sees, all she feels, all she knows.

Sometimes, flickers of faces, her mother's or her sister's, surface in her vision. She tries to say something, but her mouth won't work the way it should. Besides, what is she going to tell them? That she thinks she's dying? Somehow, she has the feeling they already know.

Before she can think of something to say, the face disappears, and it's just the constant, insistent agony and the strange, wet feeling flashing behind the red.

All of a sudden, the pain gets worse. She didn't know it could, but it does.

A name bursts through her lips, "Anakin!" But she can't tell if it's all in her head or not.

All she can tell for sure, is that the pain is real - very real - a constant, throbbing, raging monster tearing through her body, ravaging every atom, seizing her very being until she is nothing but the pain.

Then slowly, leisurely, it fades, each little burst of agony winking out one at a time, until there's nothing left, and she's floating on a sea of empty blackness.

Glugg... glugg... glugg...

Her heart still beats, but she's so tired, even that stops every few seconds.

Glugg...

She exhales once through her lips, spirit leaving the body just in time for her to hear the infants cry.

The second Padme called his name, Anakin was in the bedroom, so quickly he himself barely realized it. Sola and Jobal looked up when he entered, faces terrified, and he barely registered the two tiny bundles in their arms, before he turned to see Padme, still as death on their bed.

No, he told himself, I will not think that way.

One of the women in the room called his name, but he didn't care who and he didn't bother to reply. He ran over to the bed, dived down on his knees, and placed his hands over his wife's still heart. He could do this - he'd done it once before and now he would do it again.

I love you, Padme, Anakin thought, as if he could speak to her the way he channeled his sister in their telepathy. And I am not going to let you die.

Holding those thoughts in his head, Anakin Skywalker dived into the Living Force, prepared to perform the Revival.

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