Padmé sat next to her husband on the transport vessel as she rested her head on his shoulder tiredly. Neither one of them had said a single word since leaving Endor— the both of them content to silently draw strength from the physical closeness of one another without having to worry about their secret.

Leia sat opposite of them, her hands cuffed as she stared blankly ahead while Cody kept a close eye on her, his hand trained on his blasters.

Obi-Wan wasn't any better, and despite the deceivingly calm demeanor that he was exuding, Padmé could tell that he too was on edge— his fingers never straying far from the utility belt that carried his lightsaber. Even though Leia was cuffed, he still saw her as a threat. They all did.

And Padmé, no matter how hard she tried, couldn't find it in herself to blame them.

After everything Leia had done. The crimes she had committed… She was lucky to still be alive.

Beside her, she felt Anakin shift as she allowed her eyes to wander over to him. He had his arms wrapped around his chest, his mangled hand hidden away in the folds of his robes as he stared down at the floor, his face shrouded in darkness.

At that moment, all that Padmé wanted to do was hold him in her arms and let him know that she was there for him; that they would get through this together. But at the same time, Padmé knew her husband well enough to know when he needed his space.

"We'll be landing shortly," said Rex, making his way from the cockpit. "The medical bay is on standby."

Obi-Wan nodded, bit his lower lip, and looked away.

It felt like hours, but it was probably only a few minutes. Twenty standard minutes, maybe. It could've been more— it felt like more— but Padmé was too preoccupied to care.

But what she did know was that Anakin and Leia were going to be okay. Anakin needed a new prosthesis— they were prepping him for the surgery while a droid was applying bacta patches to Leia's burns, one by one as she sat still, her features stoic as she stared blankly at the wall in front of her.

Anakin, on the other hand, was an entirely different story.

"No! No! Don't touch that— ack!"

His mechanical stump sparked at the medical Droid's prodding as a faint burnt smell filled the air. He clutched at his stump, his features creased and his lips twisting—

"Ani," said Padmé, making her way towards him as she placed a soothing hand on his flesh arm. "You need to let the Droid's do their job."

"I would if they actually knew what they were doing," Anakin snarled, causing the poor medical Droid to back away in fear.

Anakin had always been defensive of who he let tinker with his arm. Even now, he was barely letting any of the medical Droids near it. If they were in any other situation, Padmé might have found it endearing.

But Padmé had never seen Anakin get angry with a Droid before, and it worried her.

Padmé sighed. "They're just trying to help."

"Well I don't need it," he grumbled, staring down at his stump sullenly.

Padmé took a moment, allowing the air to cycle through her lungs as she stole a glance at Leia on the other side of the room. The Droid's had finished bandaging her up, but she was still as silent and impenetrable as always, staring straight ahead. If she was listening to them, she made no indication of it.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, made no move to hide his interest in their conversation.

Padmé hesitated, then turned her attention back to Anakin. Even though she couldn't see his eyes, she could tell that he was hurting.

"Anakin—" she started but stopped as soon as the Medical Officer ripped the privacy curtain back.

"We're ready to take him back," he said as Padmé silently cursed his timing.

"Of course," she nodded. "Can you just give us a moment? Please?"

He nodded before stepping away, his back turned to them to give them some semblance of privacy— not that it really mattered in the end. They already had an audience.

She didn't know what they were going to do now that their secret was out. Yet… A part of her was almost glad. They didn't have to pretend anymore. They didn't have to sneak around, constantly looking behind their shoulder hoping that no one caught on. They could be together, finally.

But at the same time, the logical part of Padmé knew that there would be fallout from this. There would be consequences.

Consequences that she knew would hurt.

So, she sat with him on the bed and carefully wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cheek to his shoulder as she listened to him breathe.

He didn't move. Not at first, but after a few moments, he finally leaned into her embrace, as if they were the only two people in the room.

"Is it true?" he croaked, just loud enough for her to hear. "Are you… Are you pregnant?"

"Yes."

He let out a shaky breath, his grip on her tightening. Although she couldn't see his face from this angle, she could feel the emotion there… Rolling and seeping into everything like waves crashing on the shore. It reminded her of when she had held him on Tatooine after his mother's death.

After a few moments, he pulled away, eyes wide with shock. She knew it shouldn't have been a surprise. Not after what had happened on the surface of Endor, but she also knew how hard this was for Anakin to wrap his mind around.

He was still struggling to come to terms with the events that had happened earlier. And Padmé didn't blame him one bit.

"That's… That's…" he trailed off, the words dying on his tongue. A million emotions flashed across his face as he processed her words: uncertainty, nervousness, dread, joy, fear. His eyes darted towards Leia, mouth twisting and eyes creasing.

He wanted to say something more, but the words just never came.

She watched then as he shut his eyes, tight. As if trying to wake himself from a bad dream. "Force, this can't be happening," he muttered.

"Ani…"

"No, no," he shook his head. "Don't. Don't do that."

"Do what?" she blinked.

"That," he huffed. "Try and make me feel better. I— I don't understand," he said before adding; "I don't understand any of this. I'm trying to wrap my mind around it but…" he trailed off, mouth swallowing as he looked at Leia. "I don't know what to think."

At that, he seemed to deflate; shoulders tensing and then sagging under an invisible weight.

"It's a lot, I know," agreed Padmé. "I'm still trying to come to terms with it myself. But…" she trailed off; eyes fixated on the woman sitting on the other side of the room.

Anakin raised his head. "But?"

She inhaled deeply. "I know she's ours. As impossible as it sounds… I know Leia is our daughter," she said before adding; "I can feel it in my bones."

Anakin's looked at her as Padmé felt her chest clench. It felt like she had been stabbed in the chest— but she knew it wasn't her own emotions she was feeling. His eyes were wide and so full of hurt, and it seeped into her like a sponge.

"Then," he breathed sharply, voice strangled. "Then why did she try to kill me?"

Padmé didn't even try to respond to that question. She felt too far away.

This wasn't a question that she wanted to answer. Not yet and certainly not here in front of everyone.

"Why did she kidnap you?" continued Anakin, his voice raspy. Eyes refusing to leave her. "Why… Why did she kill Typho? The Clones? Why—"

Why?

"I— I can't answer that," was Padmé's brutally honest response. "It's not my place."

He scoffed at that, dismissing her words as he shook his head. His flesh hand flexed, knuckles turning white as the air around them seemed to swell and churn. The corner of his mouth tugged into a deep frown as he looked back at her.

"You know something, don't you?"

It wasn't necessarily an accusatory statement, but there was an edge to his words. Sharp and glinting, there was a hint of unease in him. But he hid it well.

"You know why she's here," he continued, not mincing his words. "And you know why she tried to kill me."

"She was desperate," said Padmé before adding; "I'm in no way defending her actions, but…"

But she had been so desperate to stop the future… To stop Palpatine and save the galaxy. Anakin couldn't understand. Not now. He still had no idea what the future held in store for them nor could he possibly hope to understand Leia's actions.

"I don't entirely understand her motives," was Padmé's honest response. "But I know she had a reason."

"A reason, huh?" was his sardonic response. He shook his head, exhaling deeply as the muscles in his jaw twitched. He looked away, mouth curling and twisting. Padmé thought that maybe he would try arguing with her claim further, but he didn't. "Fine," he conceded. "I can accept that."

She blinked before narrowing her eyes in disbelief. "Anakin…"

"Please," he held his hand up to stop her, his voice drained of the sarcasm and stubbornness. "I don't want to do this right now, Padmé. I… I need to get my hand fixed and you need to rest."

"I'm fine."

"You were just kidnapped and I'm guessing you haven't slept any. Plus, you look like bantha poop," he said before sheepishly adding; "no offense."

"None taken," she sighed. Anakin was right. She was exhausted and eager to have the medical Droids check on the baby— or babies if Leia's words were any indication.

Force, she was pregnant with twins. Twins.

"When you get out of surgery, I will be right here," she promised him. "And I will explain as much as I can to you."

Anakin nodded but said nothing more as she grabbed his hand and squeezed it reassuringly— although she wasn't sure who needed it more, her or him. She watched as they wheeled Anakin back into the sterile operating room, feeling everyone's eyes on her. But she couldn't find it in herself to care.

Not anymore.