Chapter 28. Reunion

Anakin was too late. By the time he reached Landing Platform Six there wasn't a shuttle in sight.  Throwing caution aside he rushed into the platform dispatcher's office and helped himself to the day's log and passenger manifests over the uniformed officer's startled protests. 

The shuttle's destination was the Central Coruscant Republic Army Base.

The passenger list included Senator Amidala, her daughter, the entire Naboo delegation and all staff.  They must have activated the Naboo Delegation office's automated information and communications systems and closed the offices.  Even Dellia's name appeared on the passenger manifest.

They had gone. They were all gone. He had hoped – no, he had expected – to at least watch them leave. To see Padmé and Balé one more time, if only from afar. And he definitely had expected to learn their destination and itinerary so he could follow them. It was safe to assume that they were returning to Naboo, but if they were traveling by Army transport it would take a considerable amount of time and energy to find out the details of their journey. They were moving further and further away from him with every passing minute; they were already so far away that he could not reach out to them or sense them in any way.

Anakin threw down the logs and manifest and left the dispatcher's office without saying a word, without trying to cover his tracks, and without caring any longer whether anyone remembered that he had been there. A bottomless well of loss and loneliness had opened up inside of him, and all of a sudden he lacked the strength or the will to think, to plan, or to hope. He was ready to give up then and there.

And then a single clear thought penetrated his awareness; a thought born of his survival instinct, perhaps, or even of something deeper – a thought born in his soul. There was one place on Coruscant where he might find some respite, just for a while. It would be empty. It would be peaceful. And it would be the closest he could get to his heart's desire. He would go home. Just for while.

Gathering the very last shreds of this strength and his will Anakin headed out into the Coruscant dusk and toward the apartment that Padmé had left behind.

* * * * *

Padmé slumped in the back of the air taxi feeling completely and utterly alone.

The experience was a new one for her. She tried and failed to remember a single time when she had not been surrounded by family or staff. For years she often had dreamed of spending time completely by herself – at the lake, or at home on a quiet rainy afternoon. But this was nothing like her imaginings.

The moment Balé and the others had departed for the shuttle loneliness had crept over her like a cold chill that no cloak could remedy. Then she had struggled to search out transportation to Alderaan without anyone's assistance, a process that made her realize just how truly defenseless she was. Her only protection was the fact that no one knew where she was, and that could change in a moment. If Balé broke down during the journey to Naboo, or if it turned out that the owner of the vessel she had chartered was corrupt, her deception would be finished. She had never felt so vulnerable.

She wasn't looking forward to going home to her empty apartment.

* * * * *

Anakin broke into Padmé's apartment with ease, remembering not to damage the lock this time. He probably wouldn't be back to fix it. He stepped inside confidently, knowing no one was there.

With nowhere to go and no one to go to, it was the only place he could think of that he wanted to be. But it was more than that. He felt drawn here like filings to a magnet; he couldn't have stayed away if he had tried. Even in Padmé's absence he knew that he would be able to feel her in the shadows, to sense her in the place where she had been. Maybe, just maybe, he would finally be able to rest and sleep.

Closing and locking the door carefully behind him, he stepped into the shadowy spaces that had been the only place he had thought of as home for a long, long time. Anakin stopped in the middle of the spacious sitting room and listened into the silence for a while, allowing the quiet and the semi-darkness to create a sense of distance between himself and the chaos of the world beyond the door. When at last he felt sheltered enough and strong enough to bear it, he reached out through the Force to touch the essences that had been left behind.

Impressions of Padmé surrounded him. He almost felt as though he could touch her. Traces of her were everywhere, traces that were so familiar that he could form inner pictures from the wisps and eddies that lingered in the Force. He imagined her walking and talking and laughing. His mental picture of her standing by the window and looking outside was so vivid that he almost expected her to shimmer into being before his eyes. There were other impressions as well – of Sabé and Typho and Dormé. They were all clear, but not as vivid or as powerful as the ones Padmé had left behind. And mingling everywhere, running in and out of every part of the space like a bubbling stream were bright, sparkling traces of Balé.

Anakin couldn't get enough. Now that he was here, now that he felt the tiniest bit safe, at least for the moment, he let down his inner barriers a little more to drink in all the feelings and sensations he had denied himself outside. Like a sleepwalker he drifted into Padmé's bedroom, where the remnants of her presence in the Force were strong enough to buckle his knees, had he allowed it. Instinctively he reached out with his hand to touch her, only to meet with empty air.

This was where he wanted to be. It was the only place he wanted to be. If this was as close as he could get to her, then he would stay here and wrap himself in the last lingering traces of her Force presence for as long as he could hold on to them.

Idly Anakin wandered toward her wardrobes, and on impulse, opened one. She had left quite a bit of clothing behind. Some of the garments he recognized; others, he didn't. But each colorful piece of cloth resonated with her presence. They smelled of her scent. He ran his fingers over them lightly, caressingly; drawing what impressions he could from each one.

He opened another wardrobe door and found a series of shelves behind it. They were still half-full with shawls and scarves and headdresses and boxes of jewelry. He let his fingers trace the objects and their shapes one by one, until he reached something familiar that made him stop cold. He pulled it out and looked at it. Even without the benefit of a single glowlamp he knew what it was.

She didn't take it with her.

The puzzle box sat forlornly in his hand, a small dark shape in the dim room.

She promised she would take care of it for me, but she left it behind.

Anakin could feel his heart constrict and his loosened inner armor begin to tighten again. His hard metallic hand closed around the box in a fierce grip; he could break it if he squeezed hard enough. It would splinter in his fist. He closed his eyes as a wave of hurt washed over him.

She was gone. He had urged her to go. But he had never expected her to leave him behind completely.

Dulled as he was by exhaustion and misery Anakin failed to sense the presence of someone outside the apartment. His fine-tuned awareness only returned when he heard a noise at the door. Idiot, he berated himself for the thousandth time. He froze, listening and reaching out with the Force. He very much wanted to know who would invade Padmé's private apartment in her absence and that of her staff. The way he was feeling now, whoever it was would probably have just enough time to regret having come.

The sound of the door opening was drowned out in his mind by shock when he recognized the Force signature of the person who entered the apartment. It can't be, he thought. I will never survive this. Some objective part of his mind took note of the fact that he was shaking all over.

He was still trembling like a leaf when Padmé walked into her bedroom and activated the glowlamps.

* * * * *

Padmé tried not to think about how quiet and empty her apartment would be without Balé, without Sabé – without anyone. Letting herself inside, she ignored the sitting room and headed straight to her bedroom. If she just went to bed and managed to get to sleep, she could avoid thinking about anything more for tonight. Just for tonight.

Padmé didn't notice Anakin at first. She saw the open wardrobe door, but it didn't register as odd. All the packing had been done in a great hurry and it wasn't surprising that a door had been left ajar. She took a few steps toward the wardrobe to close it before something stopped her in her tracks. It was a feeling. A sensation. Unerringly she followed it and turned her head and there he was, looking at her with an unreadable gaze of such intensity that she probably could have started a fire with it. But he didn't speak.

"Anakin," she said through a constriction in her throat.

He still didn't say anything, but he moved closer to her. That was how she knew she wasn't imagining him. He was staring at her. Devouring her with his eyes. After all the terrible ups and downs of grief and worry and rage of the last two days Padmé suddenly couldn't put a name to how she felt.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, so softly that she barely heard him. He looked as though he thought she was an apparition.

"I could ask you the same thing," she answered almost as faintly, while her thoughts began to shout. Where were you? Why didn't you contact me?

"I thought you were gone," he said, stepping closer again until he stood right in front of her. His eyes never left hers. Padmé remained rooted to the spot. "My information was that you and your staff had left for Naboo. Even your office has been temporarily closed down."

"You were here." Padmé felt a sudden flush of heat rise into her face. Her voice wasn't faint any more. "You were somewhere around all the time but didn't once let me know that you were all right."

Anakin nodded. But he didn't say anything to defend himself. He just stood there looking at her as though he would never look away again.

"I take it that you no longer see eye-to-eye with the Jedi Order," Padmé said, tight-lipped, into his silence.

"Something like that," Anakin said, finding his voice again. His eyes still had not left her face.

"And that this happened just after the last time I saw you."

"Yes."

"And then rather than coming to me you chose to cut yourself off from me and disappear completely."

She watched him take a deep, controlled breath. His chest rose and fell slowly and she could feel him holding himself back.

"Yes," he said simply, without offering an explanation or an apology.

"You only came here because you thought I had gone." Padmé felt the heat within her intensify. She had been so alone, and yet he had been close by the whole time.

"Yes," he agreed again.

There was a fraught silence while Anakin stood quietly before her. But he still didn't offer any explanation or apologize.

"How could you!" she exploded, and suddenly shoved him hard in the chest with both hands. "Do you have any …" – another shove – "idea …" – another shove – "how worried I was?" – shove.

Anakin took the blows meekly. They barely made him sway.

"I was terrified!" Padmé shouted, shoving him once more, hard, for good measure. Then anger gave way to real fear and her eyes stung, despite her solemn vow not to cry any more.

"I thought you had left me!" she raged, and went to pound him with clenched fists. This time he caught her hands before they could connect with his chest and pulled her into an overpowering embrace.

"I'm sorry," he said into her hair. Finally, an apology. Padmé felt the despised tears well up and hid her face in his chest. "I'm very, very sorry that I made you suffer. But I am not sorry that I withdrew from you. Believe me when I say that I didn't belong anywhere near you."

"Balé didn't want to go," Padmé sobbed, clinging to him with all her strength. "She waited and waited for you and believed until the last second before leaving that you would come to say goodbye… and then you didn't… and I couldn't explain to her why you never came … she thinks you don't love her any more …"

They held on to one another desperately.

"I was too late," Anakin said hoarsely. "By the time I found out when you were leaving the shuttle had left."

"Why isn't your voice in my mind any more, Anakin? Why can't you hear me?" Padmé moaned. "If you had just answered me I could have told you everything… and I would have known that you were all right …"

""I …can't. I just can't allow it. Not right now…there are reasons." He sounded as though it hurt to say it. It certainly hurt to hear it.

Padmé couldn't resist trying once more. I missed you, she thought fiercely, hoping Anakin could hear her. I missed you and Balé missed you and it felt as though you had abandoned us. If she couldn't beat him with her fists she would do it with her thoughts.

He gave no indication that he had heard her, but she felt his arms slide up her back and encircle her shoulders. If he held her any closer she would be crushed.

"What about you?" he asked, his breath warm on her cheek. "Why are you still here?  Why didn't you leave with them?" Padmé wanted nothing more than to turn her mouth toward his and blank out the misery of the past few days once and for all. It would be so easy to forget everything with one kiss, and another, and another … but she was still uncertain of him. His unexplained absence had shaken her profoundly, and his sudden reappearance hadn't put her at ease. Not yet.

Padmé pushed him away so she could look into his face. It wasn't easy to get him to loosen his hold on her, but she needed to see his eyes. She still wasn't sure what she would find there. Anakin stepped back awkwardly when it became apparent that she didn't want to be held any more.

"It's a decoy," she said. "I'm not going to Naboo right away. I have to go somewhere else first."

"By yourself? I thought your whole staff went to Naboo." He was frowning. Intent. He clearly disapproved. It was so like him to focus on her immediate safety first rather than on her reasons for going, or more importantly, on her need for an explanation for his behavior.

"They have all gone." She swallowed. "I'm alone. I'm completely alone." She watched, startled, as concern turned into a flash of what looked like anger.

"They left you? Even Captain Typho? How could they?"

You did, she thought suddenly. Harshly. But she didn't say it. Instead she said, "I made them. They didn't want to – Captain Typho fought me every step of the way. But if someone stayed behind the decoy wouldn't work." 

The anger in Anakin's eyes startled her. It was even more disconcerting when he turned away from her and began to pace up and down the room. She noticed for the first time that he was holding something in his hand – something that he turned around and around in his fingers as he walked.

The puzzle box.

Padmé watched the way he unconsciously held and handled the box as he paced. It suddenly occurred to her that he had come here believing that she was gone, and had found his treasure left behind. He must have been as shocked to see her, as she had been to find him there. And maybe, just maybe, he had felt abandoned, too. She felt her hurt begin to ebb away.

Well, at least one thing could be put right.

"Anakin," she said, and waited until he stopped and looked at her – until she was sure that she had his full attention. "The box is here because I am still here. I would never leave it behind."

He looked down at the precious thing in his hands. He was tense and closed off. The anger had gone, but Padmé could feel so clearly how he was holding himself back from her. He looked as lonely as she felt. They were standing only a few steps away from one another and yet they both were wrapped in painful isolation.

"Anakin," she said again, as the last of the hurt slipped away only to be replaced by a powerful longing that swept though every part of her. "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me, no matter what happened. I can't bear it."

The puzzle box was shaking. After glimpsing the look of raw pain that had crossed his face Padmé found it much easier to look down at the box. Blindly she reached out to him with her hand and felt weak with relief when he immediately grasped it and pulled her gently toward him. His arms came around her again with a tenderness that had not been there before and his lips found hers with a kiss that felt exactly like the first one he had ever given her. Exactly. He was tentative. Cautious. Exploring. Full of longing, and yet asking permission.

She gave it, body and soul. She had never before wanted or needed anyone as much.

* * * * *

Anakin reached over for a long lock of Padmé's hair and began to weave it through his fingers. It was a bit difficult since most of his hand was wrapped in a bulky bacta-soaked bandage, but his fingers stuck out from the binding enough to provide the warp for his work of art. He concentrated on his task, wrapping the silky strands over and between his fingers in a complex pattern.

A great deal of healing had taken place throughout a single, passionate night together. Both finally had been able to sleep. And now, in the morning of a new day, decisions had to be made.

"You're not going anywhere alone," Anakin declared, admiring his work.

"I don't have a choice," Padmé murmured. She shifted her legs so that they wrapped around his, and settled back against him, cocooning him in comfort. It was a sensation he had all but forgotten.

"I'm going with you." Anakin had come to the end of the strand. He held his hand up to survey his weaving one last time, and then began unwrap it as slowly and systematically as he had created it in the first place.

"Are you serious?" Padmé couldn't turn to look at him because he was holding the strand of her hair captive.

"I will take you anywhere you want to go," he said. He would take her to the far reaches of the Galaxy and back a thousand times, if necessary. Anakin was still reeling from the realization that his absence had left her entirely alone and defenseless. It had never occurred to him that it would. It had changed his thinking completely.

Deep down Anakin always had felt marginal to Padmé's life. It wasn't that he hadn't felt loved – far from it. But there were always legions of people around her whom she relied upon to care for her and arrange things for her and whose claims on her time and attention took precedence over his. It was only when they were alone together, when he was protecting her that he felt really central to her life, or needed.

He felt needed now.

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you." Anakin smoothed out her hair between his fingers, to let her know she was free again, and Padmé rolled over and looked into his eyes.

"I like the sound of that." She was smiling. He hadn't seen her really smile in ages. That all by itself told him that he was doing the right thing. He traced the smile with his fingers. Even in the most troubled times it was within his power to make her smile. His mere presence could give her ease. He mattered. It was a revelation.

"So where are we going?" he asked, not really caring.

"I have to be on Alderaan for a meeting in four …no, three days."  Her smile turned into a frown while she calculated, and Anakin's fingers smoothed the frown. "I have to get there in complete secrecy, without leaving a trace of my journey. After my meeting I need to get to Naboo as quickly as possible, with the same secrecy. Then I have to somehow slip onto Naboo and make it look as though I have been there the whole time."

Anakin grinned, loving the challenge. "Child's play."

"Are you sure?" The look on her face was hopeful, beseeching. It astonished Anakin how much worry and pain he had been able to lift from her by simply being there. She had always been essential to him. He might just be equally important to her. He vowed to himself that from now on, he would try to make everything better for her. He had no idea how he would keep her safe. But he would do it.

"Yes, I'm sure," he said with confidence. "As it happens, I have to disappear from the Galaxy without a trace, too." He smiled. "We will vanish together."

"Isn't it about time you told me what happened to you?" Padmé suggested gently.

In one precious night Anakin had climbed out of the cloudy darkness into a space that was filled with light. He really didn't want to revisit those dark places right now. Not even in memory.

"No," he said. "Not now. Another time, I promise. But please, not now."

"Then in a way we're both fugitives," she said, accepting that he didn't want to talk about it for the moment. Anakin was relieved that she did not pursue it further, and happily started burrowing his way into the hollows at the base of her throat.

"I guess that means we're better off staying together," he said, his voice muffled.

"I could have told you that," Padmé grumbled. "But you were just too thick-headed and stubborn to see it."

"Forgive me," Anakin said, and kissed her.