Chapter 27
You Are The Sea

30 ABY
Medical Frigate, Third Fleet, In orbit over Coruscant
Hours after the Liberation of Coruscant

Leia walked into the room and stopped immediately when she saw Anakin. Her son was an island of grief in a sea of concerned beings.

Leia steeled herself for the conversation she was about to have, then stepped over and took a seat next to Anakin and rubbed a hand over his back.

"Hey," she said softly.

He looked up, his eyes red-rimmed, but he didn't say anything, then he looked back down.

"Have the medics come out yet?"

Anakin nodded his head, but only sighed.

Leia gave it a moment, then asked what they said.

Anakin sighed again, then, in a quiet voice explained; "The amphistaff shattered several ribs and shredded her right lung. Bone fragments from her ribs punctured her heart, the left lung, the aorta, the vena cava, and several other arteries and veins. If Jacen hadn't deflected the amphistaff up and slowed it down it probably would have shattered her chest completely and killed her instantly."

"So, Jacen saved her life?" Leia asked, trying to brighten Anakin's mood.

Anakin shrugged. "Or… prolonged it by a few hours. We won't know for a while. They've removed her heart and both lungs, they're in bacta trays. They're working on removing all the bone fragments and the bacta will hopefully heal all the damage. She's on a bacta bypass machine…"

"You were on that when you were found."

"I'm sure Darth Vader was too, sort of becoming a nice little family tradition."

"Smart mouth."

Anakin smiled weakly before going on. "Once the bacta does its job, if it works, they'll put her heart and lungs back in her chest. If her body doesn't reject the organs being replaced they'll submerge her in bacta and then wait to see if she comes to."

"So… when will we know if she's going to be okay?"

Anakin closed his eyes and Leia could feel the pain rolling off him in the Force.

"They don't know. If she doesn't die in the next few hours, that would be astral. If she doesn't die tomorrow, that would be really stellar too. If she isn't dead next week, that would be awesome."

"Somehow I don't imagine that the medics worded it like that."

"Between being a genius and having the Force… I'm pretty good at reading between the lines."

"What did they actually say?"

"That a whole bunch of things need to go right before they can give me a better idea of the situation, but right now it's 'touch and go'. They have her in a sterile environment because her chest is open, so the organs can remain partially attached while they're in the bacta trays, but that means that the risk of infection is high, because even a sterile environment isn't totally sterile."

"Does a sterile environment mean you can't see her?"

Anakin shook his head. "If I'm lucky, they may let me in for a few minutes tomorrow, but I'll only get to touch the top of her head, if they let me touch her at all."

Leia nodded, then reached over and took Anakin's hand and squeezed it, and the two sat silently for a few minutes before Leia spoke again.

"Jaina and Jag have gone over to the Lusankya to pick up Winter and Iella. They should be back in a couple of hours. They're bringing Will over."

Anakin closed his eyes for a long time, but didn't say anything.

"I found some clothes for you on the Falcon, you have time to shower before they get here."

Anakin nodded, then spoke. "Can you do me a favor, can you comm them and ask them not to come yet? I'm not ready."

Leia hesitated for a moment, then pressed on. "Will needs to see you, honey. He felt it, and he needs to know that you're okay."

"But she's not," he whispered, "and I'm not ready. What am I going to say? I promised… I promised him I'd bring her home, and I didn't. And what am I going to do without her? I can't do this alone. I can't raise him without her."

"Anakin, look at me." Leia reached over and took his chin in her hand and forced his gaze up. "When you were gone she never gave up on you. No matter what any of us said, she never gave up, and you aren't going to give up on her. Every second she's still alive, that's a second she's fighting to come back to you and Will. Every breath she takes with help or not, that's a breath she's taking so she can come back to you. She's in there fighting like hell to live, she's not giving up, and you aren't going to give up on her, just like she didn't give up on you. And what you are going to tell your son is that Momma has an owie and that she's trying to get better and that the medics are helping her get better."

"But what if she doesn't get better?"

"We aren't going to think about that. What we are going to think about is how strong she is, and that we love her, and that we want her to be okay and that she will be."

Anakin let out a slightly hysterical chuckle. "So we're going to live in denial?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, that is exactly what we are going to do. We are going to take a screen from your wife's datapad. It worked for her, so we're going to go with it. Like I said, she refused to believe that you were dead, she lived in denial, and it worked for her.

"In the meantime, you are covered in blood, and frankly, it's gross. You need to get cleaned up. It will help your state of mind tremendously to get out of those clothes and take a shower."

"But… it's her."

"Anakin, you can't do this to yourself. And you know very well that Tahiri would have a fit if she saw the condition you were in right now."

Anakin closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall and sighed. "She would. She'd also burn these clothes the minute I took them off."

"Yes, she would. Now come on. Your father is standing outside with Jacen. They'll take you to the shower. And it's a water shower, not a sanisteam. Take as long as you need, shave, brush your teeth. If the medics have any more news I'll come get you."

"Promise?"

"Of course. I know exactly where you'll be. I just got out of the shower myself."

Anakin leaned his head onto Leia's shoulder and whispered, "Thanks, Mom."

Leia brushed his hair back and kissed his hair. "You're welcome, Anakin."

Anakin looked at the people around him and wondered if this was always the case; you didn't know how loved you were until you were dead, and he wondered if this had been what it was like when everyone had thought he was dead.

He'd had a flash several days ago to those last hours on Eclipse, to watching the Tahiris, his Tahiri, and remembered thinking that no one loved her but him, thinking that no one would mourn her but him, and thought how different things were now.

The med center was packed.

The Lumbunts had all been given leave to spend as much time as they wanted or needed with their commander. Valin and Paloma had barely left Anakin's side since they'd guided the Falcon here ten days ago. Moeller and Ryke had taken some of the others out on maneuvers, but only because they'd been going a little stir-crazy, and needed a distraction.

The Wraiths had been coming and going, taking turns sitting vigil. Face and Kell had only left a few times, to be debriefed by the Intel agents Iella had assigned the task of finishing up the reports on the Coruscant mission. Anakin could tell that they were suffering over what was going on. He'd actually overheard them talking at one point; wondering if there'd been anything they could or should have done differently. Anakin had instantly translated that into guilt on his own part; was there anything he should have done differently.

The Commandos had taken up residence, never leaving Will's side. They'd come over on the Falcon when Jaina and Jag had gone to the Lusankya to retrieve them, Will, Iella and Winter. Leia had finally persuaded Anakin on day three that Will had to be brought over, and Anakin had finally agreed that his mother was right.

Wedge and Tycho had been coming and going as their schedules permitted, popping in to sit with Anakin or their wives, who had taken turns sitting with Anakin and Will when they could justify skipping out on work.

Apparently the Peace Treaty had been signed, or was being signed, or was being drawn up… Anakin wasn't sure. But he did know that at some point, when the Antilles and the Celchus and the Skywalkers hadn't been with him on the med frigate, they were actually participating in a major Galactic event. Anakin just wasn't sure what it was, and, frankly, didn't care.

Anakin's parents and brother and sister had been present for most of the past ten days, making sure Anakin and Will had anything they might need or want, which wasn't much, but Anakin appreciated the gestures.

There were even a fair number of Jedi who had found their way to the med frigate, which surprised Anakin, since neither he nor Tahiri had seen many of them in the past two years.

When Anakin had time to think, or cared to, he'd found the situation ironic.

Tahiri had no idea how loved she was, how missed she would be and it seemed that it was a cruel fact of life that it was only when it was over, or hanging in the balance, that one's importance became evident. Here, crowding a small observation room were all these people, telling Anakin how much they cared for Tahiri, people who hadn't taken the time to tell her that they cared, people who had taken the time to tell her that they didn't agree with choices she'd made in her life, and she was unconscious when they made an effort to share their new-found feelings.

Bastards.

Anakin closed his eyes and rolled his head from side to side, trying to work the kinks out of his neck, but it didn't really help. He'd been sitting up for what felt like months, in the same chair, staring at the same bacta tank, praying, willing, begging the Force for Tahiri to open her eyes.

Actually, he wasn't picky; he didn't need her awake, at this point he'd settle for semi-conscious. That might be enough to at least feel her in the Force.

When Iella and Winter had brought Will in on the third day, Anakin had taken his son, the child's eyes swollen from crying, and hugged him to his chest. Will had then leaned back, rubbed his own chest and said, "No Mama."

Anakin had swallowed the lump in his throat and replied, "Mama's night, night."

Will wasn't a stupid child.

"No Mama nigh, nigh." He'd then rubbed his chest again, the spot right over his heart, and repeated, "no Mama."

Anakin knew exactly what his son was trying to say; Will couldn't feel Tahiri in the Force. Neither could Anakin. Tahiri was comatose. Not reaching back. Practically void.

Anakin's response? "Mama sustained a severe chest injury during the Liberation of Coruscant."

Leia had batted the back of Anakin's head, clearly not impressed with how he was handling the situation, but Will's little blonde brows had instantly knit together as he'd tilted his head, staring at Anakin for a long moment, then he'd asked; "Mama owie?"

Several of the adults in the room had chuckled at the exchange, but Anakin just smiled, then leaned forward and kissed his son's head before saying, "Yeah, Mama has an owie. A big owie."

"Em –ee may id beh-erh?"

"Yeah, MD is trying to make it better."

Then Will had leaned back into Anakin, shoved a thumb into his mouth and grasped a handful of Anakin's hair in his other hand.

It wasn't a handful of Tahiri's hair, but it was all Anakin could give him.

Anakin rolled onto his side and wondered why it had taken fourteen days for someone to think to bring a med bed into the observation room for him to lie on.

It wasn't that he'd actually have slept at any point in the past two weeks, but it still would have been nice to have lain down.

Of all the things that people had brought him; clothes, food, datapads, puzzles, holovids, novels, reports…

Seriously? His wife was dying and someone thought he was going to read and sign performance evaluations?

And no one had thought that he might want to lie down?

Of course, he hadn't asked anyone to bring him a bed in the fourteen days that he'd been sitting in a chair staring at his dying wife either.

He rolled over again, trying to find a comfortable position, and realized that maybe the reason he hadn't thought of it was that it didn't really matter whether or not he was sitting up or lying down; watching your wife's life hang in the balance was not conducive to resting.

During the first several days, every time he closed his eyes he saw images of Jacen leaning over Tahiri, the two of them soaked in blood, a gaping wound, larger than Anakin's fist, in Tahiri's chest, bubbles gurgling up through the blood.

More visions, worse visions, came after he'd been allowed in to see her in the sterile room. Images of her cut open from her collarbone to her stomach, organs lifted out of her body and sitting in dishes placed on trays beside her. In the worst of the visions she was awake and talking to him, which somehow, was more disturbing than in the visions where her eyes were closed. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that in all of those visions she was talking, always wanting to know why he hadn't stopped Omini from hurting her, why he had failed to save her.

In those first few days, he wasn't sorry to be missing out on sleep.

Now, the dreams weren't quite as gruesome, they were less graphic, more emotional, but all had the same theme; where was he when she needed him? Why hadn't he stopped Omini from hurting her? Why hadn't he helped her? Where was he when she went down? Why hadn't he gotten to her side before Jacen put her into the trance? Why were her last few moments spent with Jacen and not him?

The two questions that haunted him the most were; why did it take him so long to get to her side, and why did she spend her last few moments with Jacen?

And the answers were; it all happened so fast, and it all happened so fast.

From the moment the amphistaff left Omini's hand, to the moment Anakin reached her side was less than four minutes. Anakin had run, dodged other beings, jumped over fallen bodies, tripped and righted himself twice, covered a grand total of less than a hundred meters, and Jacen had still gotten Tahiri into the trance before Anakin had gotten to her side.

That was a good thing though. Had it taken longer, Tahiri might have died. But Anakin had missed seeing her, or getting her into a trance himself.

There was another aspect of Jacen putting Tahiri into the healing trance that was gnawing at Anakin, something that popped into his head every few hours and terrified him, something that had caused him to steer clear of his brother since they'd been on the med frigate and he was dreading the possibility of Jacen bringing up again; Jacen had pushed on Tahiri's mind. Jacen had commented on how hard Tahiri had resisted him. Tahiri had a large gaping chest wound that was about to kill her, Tahiri was on the verge of death, but had still fought Jacen's help.

Because she didn't want Jacen in her head.

Did Tahiri give anything away?

Did it matter anymore?

Did Anakin care?

If faced with the possibility of losing Tahiri, of having to face life without her, did he care what happened to the Jedi, or his brother, or the Sith?

No, he didn't.

Anakin tried to cling to Leia's advice, tried to live in denial, tried to tell himself that Tahiri was going to be okay, that she was going to wake up, and, as one day bled into the next, as the first week slipped slowly into the second, as her organs healed and were, one by one, returned to her body and she was finally submerged into a bacta tank, Anakin had to admit, things were looking good, but between not being able to feel her, and his growing fear of Jacen, it was still hard to sleep. No matter what time it was, no matter how long it had been since he'd closed his eyes for any real length of time, no matter that he should have done his own healing trance, no matter that he was long overdue for dialysis and should have been eating more cookies, he knew he wasn't going to get any significant rest until Tahiri opened her eyes.

And then he was going to sleep like the dead.

Anakin lay flat on his back on his med bed trying to shut out the noise around him, with little success.

Paloma and Valin were on the floor with Will eating cake, or, trying to keep Will from getting cake all over the place.

The Holds were passing whiskey around to the Solos and the Skywalkers and the Commandos and the Lumbonts, and anyone else who wanted some.

Face and Kell were regaling everyone who hadn't been on Coruscant with stories of the trek to the Sacred Precinct, even though everyone who hadn't been there had already heard the stories.

Corran had even told a story. About Anakin and Tahiri and the airless locker in the space station over Yag'Dhul.

It was Tahiri's birthday and everyone felt like celebrating.

The fact that the guest of honor was currently all but naked and floating for the eighth consecutive day in bacta, after ten days of being laid out on a slab like a side of nerf in a sterile room, wasn't dampening anyone's good time. In fact, it seemed to be adding to everyone's giddiness. Which was the only word Anakin could think of to describe the mood.

Anakin wasn't feeling particularly giddy.

In fact, he was feeling cranky. It didn't seem right that his wife was missing out on her own birthday and had been very vocal about not wanting to have a party, but his mother had ignored his protests. She seemed to think everyone else needed to cut loose, and that Tahiri would be glad that three weeks after nearly dying it was only a matter of time before she would wake up, nearly fully recovered, and that her family was celebrating her life, and the fact that she had a life to live.

As cranky as Anakin was, he'd found it hard to argue that, so he'd let them have their little celebration and had shoved his med bed into a corner of the observation room and stayed on it, and out of everyone's way.

He and Tahiri would have their own celebration when she woke the kriff up and he was released from the hell he'd been enduring since the moment she'd gone down.

Anakin took a deep breath and reached for the Force, reached for calm, and, amazingly, found it. Found calm, and peace, and warmth that had been absent for so long. Then he sat bolt upright and turned to face the tank.

Will had turned too, and Anakin got off the med bed just in time to see Will walk over and place his hand on the transparisteel wall between them and the tank, fingers splayed out, as a hand inside the tank reached down to mirror his.

"Hi Mama."

Anakin felt, more than saw, all the eyes of the room follow him as he joined his son.

Will turned his little face up to Anakin, a wide smile lighting his features.

"Mama no mo owie."

Anakin nodded, then faced the tank, and watched Tahiri straighten, watched her press her hands to the glass again, four fingers of one hand held up, two fingers of the other.

Forty-two.

Anakin held his own hands up, and nodded, then watched her kick her feet, propelling herself up to the top of the tank, and slam her fist against the lid.

She wanted out.

Twenty minutes later a medic opened the door to the observation room.

"Colonel Solo, Agent Veila is being put into the shower…"

Anakin didn't wait for the rest, and faintly heard the medic tell the rest of the room that someone might want to get him some dry clothes, and then heard laughter. But he didn't care, because by that point he had Tahiri back, and she was in his arms, and she was whole, and she was safe, and the war was over.