NOTE: Thank you so much everyone for your comments and feedback! I'll start posting the sequel soon and probably do a few chapters at a time just for my own convenience (like I said I just don't want to be posting for the next nineteen weeks lol) I hope to see you there and I hope you enjoy everything! The sequel is called "Enjoy Your Life" so keep an eye out. I hope to hear from you and I will say that this fic was pretty much stewing in my head for about 9 years before it finally came out of me and I put a LOT of effort into it. Hope you enjoy! Thanks so much!


Today had been the longest day, by far, in Anakin's entire life, and it still wasn't over. And the reason it wasn't over was because his three friends, all of whom he loved very, very much, would simply not leave him alone.

That wasn't to say he wanted to be alone alone. Quite the opposite. But was he really in the mood, after his shaking had stopped and he'd finally had something to eat, to be psychologically analyzed by his loved ones as they tried to convince him that he was a victim?

No. Because he wasn't. Anakin was a lot of things, and he felt a lot of things, and okay, sure, maybe he had almost become a Sith tonight. That was on him. But he wasn't a victim, and he hadn't been abused. He just hadn't been.

He just. Hadn't been.

He hadn't.

He was fine, so everyone just leave him alone for a little while. Please?

"We will not," Obi-Wan said crossly, sitting opposite him in the little half-circle they'd formed around him, like they were trapping a feral animal. Anakin already felt contained enough. Why did they have to be doing this right now? "We will not leave you alone until you actually listen to us for once."

"I'm listening," Anakin snapped. "To a bunch of nonsense."

"Anakin," Ahsoka said in clear exasperation, "Even Maul can see through this. He told me himself that Palpatine has been — has been grooming you, shaping your beliefs. And he was right!"

"Maul is a Sith."

Ahsoka stared at him. "So is Palpatine!"

"It's not the same."

"Yes, it is! Palpatine trained Maul!"

"Palpatine sent Maul after us in the first place," Obi-Wan cut in, gesturing at Padmé for the 'us', "Back on Tatooine when we found you! He ordered the Trade Federation to blockade Naboo!"

"And then," Padmé said, "He used me to get himself into office by having me propose the vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum! And he manipulated Jar Jar into getting the Senate to approve his emergency powers and the clone army!"

"That turned out to be a good thing," Anakin retorted. "We all would have died on Geonosis otherwise. The war, the Separatists —"

"He started the war, Ani!"

Why did they have to do all this now?

"Well maybe —" he stammered, trying to make sense of it all. "Maybe he had a reason —"

Obi-Wan's eyebrows shot upward. "A reason for starting a war in which he controlled both sides?"

Anakin found he did not have an answer for that.

"He's behind all of this," Obi-Wan said, looking right at him. "He's been working with Dooku to weaken the galaxy so that he could take total control, and he's been using you to get what he wants! Don't you see, he requested you be put on the Council because he knew we would ask you to spy on him! He knew that would drive a wedge between us, between you and me, which would drive you away from the Jedi and closer to him!"

There were no answers. There couldn't be. None of this could be happening.

A recent memory lingered now in his mind as his thoughts raced around themselves, and he repeated faintly, "Dooku…."

Realization must have been dawning on his face, as Ahsoka said, "What is it?"

But then Anakin's eyes widened, and he clamped his mouth shut. He shook his head again.

Padmé said, gently, "You can tell us, Ani. It's okay."

He swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump rising in his throat. Then he looked at Obi-Wan, whose eyes were sad and full of concern. "On the Invisible Hand. You were unconscious, and he — he kept talking, taunting me, and it made me so angry, that I —" he swallowed again, but his voice only thickened with disgust, "— I cut both his hands off, like he had cut off mine. I left him defenseless, just kneeling there before me all pathetic. And then I killed him." He hated himself so badly it burned. "He was a prisoner of war and I murdered him in cold blood."

There was a pause as pregnant as his wife, before Obi-Wan said, "Did Palpatine tell you to?"

Anakin allowed himself the tiniest of nods, and stared blankly at the wall, seeing instead Dooku's frightened, alarmed expression from just before he'd died. "Before I killed him, I stared into his eyes and it was like he — like he had just realized something." He reached up and rubbed at his eyes. The action hurt from all the crying earlier. "I guess that thing was that I'm his replacement."

Ahsoka said, "You were supposed to be, maybe, but it didn't happen that way."

"Do you really think I wouldn't have done it?" he said, looking at each of them and then finally at Padmé. His voice was hushed. "I would have joined him, I would have done anything. I would have burned this temple to the ground to keep you safe." His gaze softened, and fell to the floor. "Nothing would have stood in my way."

Another pause, this one even longer than before. Anakin knew why. Because he had already gone to ridiculously absurd lengths to saving them all before, when the situation required it, and he wasn't exactly known for keeping his cool in those situations. When Padmé had fallen off the gunship on Geonosis and he'd nearly jumped after her, leaving Obi-Wan to fight Dooku alone. The blue shadow virus, where he would have murdered every person on Iego if they had tried to keep him from saving Ahsoka and Padmé. When Obi-Wan faked his death, and Anakin almost killed his undercover friend in vengeance. On Mortis, when Ahsoka had actually died and come back, proving without a doubt to Anakin that yes, the power to stop people from dying did exist, and surely there was a way he could unlock it, or else there was absolutely no point in being the stupid Chosen One at all —

"But you didn't," Obi-Wan said, drawing him out of his self-loathing. "Instead, you did the right thing. You asked for help."

"And if I hadn't?"

"Irrelevant, because you did."

Anakin rolled his eyes. This was pointless. Because he was right, and they were wrong. Because he knew, even if none of them would admit it to themselves, that even now he might as well just be a Sith. He basically was one, he thought, in all but name. He certainly had enough hatred to be one, though most of it was directed at himself.

"Just give it a rest," Anakin said, sulking back in his chair.

"We will not give it a rest," Obi-Wan said stubbornly, "Not until you understand why what was done to you was abuse. Now please, Anakin. You asked me for help. Let me help. When you went to meet with Palpatine over the years, what did you talk about that he told you not to tell me?"

He couldn't meet Obi-Wan's eyes. He felt so sick, so ashamed, and he didn't even know why. He really didn't know. "All of it."

"What specifically?"

Anakin shrugged, staring at the blanket of Padmé's bed. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You never do," Ahsoka pointed out. "How about just this once?"

He didn't speak, staring at the white fabric with his lips pressed firmly together, because they could keep him away from Palpatine all they wanted but they weren't going to get him to actually talk about the man even if it killed him. Go ahead and try, he thought, or better yet please don't….

Eventually, Obi-Wan exhaled and shifted in his seat. "All right," he said, thinking. "How about we start less broadly. Anakin — do you feel safe right now?"

That was such a surprising question that Anakin could not help but to meet his master's eyes. "What?"

"Right now, in this room with us, do you feel safe?"

"If this is another one of your exercises —"

"Anakin, answer the question," Padmé said, cutting him off.

He sighed. "I guess."

"But you're not certain," Obi-Wan said. Anakin shrugged, looking at the floor again. "Now, when you were with Palpatine in his office, did you feel safe there?"

"I told you, he's never hurt me —"

"That's not what I'm asking," Obi-Wan said gently. "Just tell me your instinct. Did you feel safe?"

Anakin felt his mouth twist into a frown. He shook his head, as if Palpatine would hear him if he actually answered aloud. The man was in the temple, after all….

"And when he revealed the truth to you today, what was your instinctual reaction to that?"

Honestly, that had all gone by so fast that Anakin wasn't one hundred percent sure it had even happened. He remembered it vividly, yet it was as if it had happened to someone else. "I wanted to kill him."

"But you didn't."

"He said if I did, there would be no one left who knew how to save Padmé."

Obi-Wan nodded. "What else did he say?"

Anakin felt like he was gonna burst. He was so tired, yet suddenly so jittery, like he needed to escape. "I don't know."

"It's not going to get better if you don't talk about it," Ahsoka said. "I know we all don't have the best communication record, but maybe it's time to change all that."

Padmé's hand came to rest on his arm, and unlike in the hangar where everything had been numb and dizzy and detached, he could actually seem to feel it now. Like a tiny tendril of warmth, the smallest candle on the blackest night. It was so simple but so calming, and he was so distracted by it that he forgot he was supposed to be responding until the hand came up to run through his hair. And he wasn't sure what to say, so he just said the first thing that came to mind.

"He was always so nice," he said, "And I used to love it, I really did. It always seemed like he really cared about me. And it's not that the Jedi didn't, but it was…different, you know? It was like he really wanted me around, and I didn't get that feeling from the Jedi. It was like he understood me. He didn't want me to hold in my feelings or let them go, and, well, neither did I. He said I was better than that, he said those feelings set me apart. I didn't want to renounce attachment, and he said I shouldn't have know, no one told me when I became a Jedi that I'd have to do that. Qui-Gon said it would be a hard life, but he didn't tell me I wasn't allowed to ever fall in love or have a family and he definitely didn't tell me I was the Chosen One…he didn't tell me that for my entire life here everyone would look at me different, everyone would expect me to be perfect and then go behind my back and criticize me for being too emotional —"

Suddenly he couldn't stop. Anakin heaved a giant breath and kept going — "And Palpatine always said he didn't care if I was too emotional, he always said that it was a shame no one else understood me, and that just — that meant everything to me. He just made me feel so special. He acted like I was important, but not because of a prophecy, because of my feelings. I would vent to him and he would always listen, he never judged or criticized and never turned it into a lesson like you would — sometimes it felt like all you or anyone would ever do was criticize me. So when he didn't, I just…I wanted more of that. I wanted to believe the things he said. He always said that one day I would be the most powerful Jedi of them all and eventually I just started to want that so badly. I'd never had power before in my life, but he made it sound so good…."

He was starting to shake again. The words just poured out of him now like water and he barely even knew what he was saying.

"And then everything started to change. Before it had just been philosophical differences between him and the Jedi but suddenly it was like their own private war and I was stuck in the middle of it all. Even before the spying thing, the Council would use me to ask him for something. You two, you would both ask me to ask him for things. And I would, I would go, and he would catch on immediately and start going off about how everyone was using me, and it was true! He figured out immediately that you asked me to spy on him. He said the Council was hiding things from me, and I knew that was true because they've never trusted me from day one, any more than they trust him — and he said that being a true Jedi meant putting the Republic first and that the Council wasn't doing that, they were only thinking about themselves and the Order, and it just — it felt right! And when he said the Jedi were going to overthrow him and take control of the Senate, it made sense! And then he said I would have to choose, because if something happened to him then Padmé would die because he was the only one who knew how to save her —

"And it's not like I didn't try to fight back, I did. I went to Yoda and told him about the nightmares and he said I just had to let go of anyone I feared to lose which isn't an answer at all, and then Palpatine comes in and gives me a real answer and I just — I had to take it, it wasn't even a question. And even today, even after telling me the truth he was just so nice about it all. He made it sound like he was doing the right thing all along, he said he was the only one who'd ever been in a position to fix the galaxy, that's why he'd kept it a secret from me, and he said —"

He choked on the word, swallowing a lump in his increasingly strained throat. "He said he'd been wanting to tell me the truth for years but he couldn't because the Jedi would have murdered him without trial, and he said I couldn't be mad at him for lying to me because I had lied to him about Padmé and he — he's right, I can't, and I should have told him the truth because I told him everything. I told him all the things I shouldn't have done and all the thoughts I shouldn't've had, and I told him that I knew those thoughts went against the Jedi way but he said that was okay, even though you were teaching me otherwise, and that's why he always said, every time, that I had to keep it a secret from you, because if I told you then I would get in trouble and I wouldn't have been able to see him anymore and that it would be my fault and —"

He couldn't talk anymore, his throat so swollen again after having barely even gotten the last words out, and he bowed his head so that he wouldn't have to see their looks of pity, and so that they wouldn't have to see him fighting tears for the hundredth time today. He realized suddenly that Padmé's hand was still on his arm, and heard her say, "Oh, Ani…."

Suddenly Anakin wanted nothing more than to melt through the floor and die. "I feel so stupid."

"You're not," Ahsoka said quietly, genuinely. "You were a kid, and kids are impressionable. That doesn't make you stupid. It's not your fault."

"I'm not a kid anymore."

"Well, it's still not your fault."

"Murdering people is my fault. He didn't make me do that. I did that, I killed Dooku, I murdered the —" he cut himself off again, glancing at Padmé. She was frowning. "You know. I can't take any of that back."

Obi-Wan's eyes flicked to her, then back to Anakin. "But you can learn from your mistakes," he said, "And you can come to understand why all of this happened in the first place. And when you understand, then you can start to recover." Anakin shook his head again, looking away. Obi-Wan continued, "And the first thing you need to understand is that this is not your fault. You are not weak. You are not stupid. You were a child, taken advantage of by an adult in a position of power." He paused, then added softly, "And I'm sorry I never realized."

"It's not your fault either," Anakin snapped. "I never told you any of it, and I should have."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said in that way he always did, that way that conveyed so much meaning and sounded so much sweeter on his lips than Anakin deserved to hear. "You can, and should, take responsibility for your own actions, but not for actions that were done to you. And psychological abuse was done to you. Not because of you, not because there is anything wrong with you, but because someone else had a craving for power and control. Palpatine abused you, manipulated you, because he wanted to. Because he is evil."

"Then why does it feel like I deserved it?"

He hadn't even meant to say that out loud, and he could tell by the looks on their faces they were surprised he would finally be so candid. But since he had already started to dig that hole, he might as well just…let loose. What else did he have to lose besides Padmé, who was already maybe going to die anyway —

"I let him do all that to me," he went on. "I knew the things he told me were wrong but I still went back. Time and time again I went back to him, like I would have tonight. Hell, I still want to even now, even though I know I shouldn't, and I don't know what's wrong with me, I —" His face fell into his hands. "I hate it. I hate all of it, and I hate myself."

After a second, Padmé said, "Well, we love you. And nothing you can say or do will ever change that."

He glared at her. "I think if I had burned the temple down to keep you alive you'd change your mind."

"No," Padmé replied, holding his gaze. "I don't think I would."

"Me neither," Ahsoka said.

"Nor would I," said Obi-Wan.

Anakin held Obi-Wan's gaze the longest. "You don't love me."

"As a matter of fact, I do," Obi-Wan said, his expression softer and more demonstrative than Anakin had seen in a long time. "And I'm truly sorry I've never been able to say it until now."

"We all love you, Ani," Padmé said, her hand rubbing her belly as if to indicate the babies, too, were already capable of such a thing. "We know you love us. That's never been a secret. But can you really not see how much we love you?"

Honestly, no. No, he couldn't. He really, really couldn't. He couldn't see anything even close.

Tears started to form again in his eyes, just like they had been all day.

What was wrong with him?

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," Ahsoka said gently. "Please, don't be."

"I trusted him," Anakin said, finally beginning to comprehend what his gut had been telling him for years. "I told him everything. Things I never told any of you. I thought he cared about me. I was beginning to think he was the only one who did."

Padmé said, "Is that what he told you?"

"Yes." More tears fell down his cheeks. He wiped them off on his sleeve, and sniffled. "He said — he said you two were conspiring against the Republic, with the Council and the Loyalist Committee. He said you were all going to depose him. He said you were traitors. And I believed it. I believed every word." He was too tired to cry any more. Even the thought of it was so exhausting. "I'm so sorry."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said softly, "Please don't apologize. Just promise you will let us in. Just try to understand that all your negative thoughts were put there by him."

"When we first met you," Padmé said, "You were the most purely kindhearted person I had ever met. You put your life on the line at nine years old for a group of strangers you barely even knew, with absolutely no thought of reward. There was no promise of being a Jedi, nothing you thought you would get out of it. You just wanted to help us. That is the person that you are, and it kills me that he tried to take that away from you. He might have tried to make you forget that kind little boy inside of you, but we never have."

He felt so raw. So broken, so exposed. He felt damaged. But for the first time in, admittedly, quite a long while — he actually did feel that they cared. He wasn't sure he felt loved, exactly, because it felt like there was no way anyone could love him, especially not as much as he loved them — but rationally he knew it, and that helped. Knowing, rationally, that Padmé loved him, Ahsoka loved him, even Obi-Wan loved him — it helped. It did.

Now he just had to make himself believe it.

There was a reasonable, comfortable silence now, which Obi-Wan broke by saying, "Now will you please try to get some sleep?"

"I can't," Anakin said, exhaustion weighing over him more than it had been for days. "It's not that I don't want to, but every time I try I see it." He looked at Ahsoka. "You've had visions before, you know what it's like. It just completely takes over any dreams you might have, and all of this won't change the fact that last time, the visions came true."

"But think about the timing," Obi-Wan reasoned. Anakin had told him everything in the hangar, before Windu had arrived with Palpatine in custody, and Anakin hadn't exactly been calm even then but he had managed to get the details out, at least. "Last time, you had been having dreams about your mother for a month before she died. You told me that you didn't have these premonitions until after you found out Padmé was pregnant. And you said that Palpatine knew about them without you telling him. None of this can be a coincidence."

Padmé looked at Obi-Wan. "You think Palpatine is causing the dreams?"

"I'd be willing to bet on it," Obi-Wan said. "The timing is just too good. Surely he must have realized somehow that you were pregnant and planned everything out. The attack on Coruscant, Grievous and Dooku. Remember that he informed the Council of where Grievous was hiding. He must have wanted Grievous out of the picture. He must have been planning a takeover, and timed these dreams to line up with the exact moment he wanted you to join him."

"He never said anything about a takeover," Anakin retorted. "By him, anyway."

"Maul did," Ahsoka said. "He said to me that according to Sidious's plans, the time of the Jedi was over. He said the Republic had already fallen, and that the shift was right about to happen. That's why Maul came to Mandalore when he did. Obi-Wan's right, there's a reason this is all happening at once."

"But you don't know that these are his doing," Anakin said, not wanting to think about any of this. "When it was about my mom, if I had gone to her earlier she might not have died. If these are real, and if I can do something about them, and if you die, Padmé, and I could have stopped it…I can't go through that again. You just have no idea — seeing it, feeling it, and having to watch it come true in real life — and before you say it," he added, looking at Obi-Wan now, "Don't."

"I didn't say any—"

"The future is always in motion," Anakin said, rolling his eyes. "I know."

Padmé took his hand and squeezed it. "Anakin. You heard the doctors. You saw the test results. There is absolutely nothing scientifically or medically wrong with me or the babies. I'm okay. I'm going to be okay."

"You don't know that," Anakin repeated numbly.

"Maybe not," Padmé said, "I don't know what's going to happen in the future, but if you don't sleep you're not going to make it to the future at all." She looked at Obi-Wan. "Can we get him some kind of sleeping pill?"

Indignantly, Anakin said, "I'm not taking—"

"Yes, you are," Obi-Wan said, getting up. "Once you've made it through the night, then we can worry about the future."

Anakin opened his mouth to refuse, but Padmé and Ahsoka stared daggers into him so he slumped back in his chair, feeling like a Padawan again.

To be honest, though, he really was that tired. He honestly hadn't slept, he thought, more than two hours a night (if even that) since before coming back to Coruscant at least, though sleep was always tenuous on the front so he wasn't quite sure about that, either. But finally, after everything that had happened today, he really did just want to sleep, and maybe cry a little more but mostly just sleep. Obi-Wan came back with a sleep aid, nothing too sedating but something that should at least knock him out…he didn't want to leave Padmé, couldn't leave Padmé because the visions were still up in the air, so they got another bed brought into the room and only sort of begrudgingly did he settle back, his anxieties keeping him up as long as he could keep his eyes open, listening to the soft, unrelated conversation of his friends….

His eyelids wouldn't open anymore, and all his limbs felt impossibly heavy, and his mind was going off somewhere to the gentle sound of his loved ones talking around him, acting like everything was normal….

Anakin thought he must have never fallen asleep after all because he hadn't dreamed, hadn't seen, but he couldn't tell until he managed to wrench open his crusty eyes, thinking he would let himself sleep in just a second but first he wanted to make sure Padmé was okay —

It was darker in here, now, the lights far dimmer than they had been, but he could make out that the orange shape on Padmé's bed was most decidedly not his pregnant wife, but was almost certainly Ahsoka, who he'd forgotten for that drowsy second was here on Coruscant and not off on Mandalore, or off in the unknown….

He gasped. Sat up. Looked around. She wasn't here. She wasn't here. Where was she, where —

"Padmé," he said, groping at the heavy blankets on top of him, they'd given him a weighted blanket to assist the sleep aid because his brain really needed all the help it could get and he was so tired he could barely shove it off —

Ahsoka jumped to action, rushing over to him and placing her hand gently on his shoulder, saying, "It's okay, she's fine. She's okay."

"No," Anakin said, and his mind couldn't make sense of what was going on, he was so tired but she — she was in labor, they'd said, what if — what if —

"Anakin, she's okay," Ahsoka said firmly, pushing him back against his pillow with both hands. Anakin didn't have it in him to resist. He was so tired. "Her water broke a few hours ago, but she's okay. Obi-Wan went with her."

"Obi-Wan," he repeated numbly, "No, he can't —" He gasped again, realizing something, and tried to push Ahsoka away. No, no, no. Not Padmé, not Obi-Wan, not his baby. Babies. His babies. Their babies. No, no, no. He was so tired. She was going to die and he was so tired. "No, he can't, he — the visions, Obi-Wan's there, she dies and he's there, tell him he can't be there, tell him —"

"It's okay," Ahsoka said again, and Anakin didn't believe that was true but he was so tired, his eyes closed against his conscious desire and he was barely aware of Ahsoka gently smoothing his hair back, repeating over and over, "She's okay, it's all right…."

He still didn't dream, but this time when he awoke his eyes were less crusty, his limbs less heavy, and this time Obi-Wan was here, perched on the side of Anakin's bed, staring down at a datapad. Ever the observant one among them, he noticed Anakin was awake and smiled. Sunlight came in through the windows across the room, but instinctively Anakin knew that morning had already come and gone.

"Goodness, you really did need the sleep, didn't you Padawan?" Obi-Wan said, and leaned over to press a kiss to Anakin's crown, whispering into his hair, "Congratulations."

The words seemed to go in one ear and out the other. They simply did not make sense. Anakin blinked. "Huh?"

"It's a boy," Obi-Wan whispered almost giddily, and then quirked his head to the side thoughtfully. "And a girl."

In his periphery, Anakin noticed a shape that was not orange this time, and looked over to see his wife where Ahsoka had been some time before, alive and safe and completely asleep. In the Force, her presence was a strong, peaceful, and most importantly present bliss. Somewhat convinced that this was all a hallucination (because, really, huh?), he looked back at Obi-Wan for an explanation.

"I am sorry you had to miss it," his friend said honestly, "And you can be angry with us later for not waking you, but I assure you it was a unanimous vote. How are you feeling?"

Rather than answering that very complicated question, Anakin asked, "Where are they?"

"The temple brought in neonatal care units last night. They're premature, but in good health. The doctors think they should only need a few days in the incubators. You can see them whenever you're ready."

"I'm ready," Anakin said, but Obi-Wan put a steadying hand on his shoulder as he tried to get up.

"Patience, Anakin."

"Those are my children, don't tell me you're going to keep them from me, too —"

"We are not," Obi-Wan confirmed. "But your little bundles are quite Force-sensitive, you know, and we think they'll be highly susceptible to your emotions. You should try to be calm before you see them."

"I'm perfectly calm," Anakin snapped, knocking Obi-Wan's hand away and getting up. Obi-Wan shook his head the way he always did and followed Anakin out the door, then led the way down the hall. The temple didn't have a neonatal wing because why would they, and when they arrived the techs explained that the incubators didn't mean they weren't healthy, but that they just needed a little more time to develop as premature twins often did. And surprisingly, Anakin could understand that. Really, he could. Because never, not once, at any point had his visions been about living babies dying. Only Padmé, while she was in labor. And if labor was over, and the babies were alive, and she was alive, then maybe….

Maybe it really would be okay. Maybe it really was all right. The proof was right here in front of him, waiting for him to accept it. It might just take him a little while to get to that point.

His children. His children. He clapped his hand to his mouth and felt his eyes sting yet again with tears as he looked upon his two beautiful children. His wonderful, perfect, wrinkly, pink little babies. Tiny hands, tiny feet, a few thin wisps of hair on two otherwise bald heads. Perfect, perfect, perfect little Skywalkers. Or Amidalas. Or Naberries. He didn't care. He only cared that they existed. They lived. They lived.

She lived. They lived. They were all alive. Alive, living breathing beautiful healthy perfect. Perfect.

Perfect.

He stood there with Obi-Wan for a while in silence, looking in on the incubators as if in a trance, completely mesmerized. So mesmerized, in fact, that he didn't even notice Padmé come in.

She was sleepy but so, so beautiful, and she smiled tiredly at him. Her white hospital shift hung loosely around her, her baby bump still pronounced but at least half the size it had been. In the Force, her happiness rang in great chorus, in perfect harmony with his children. Their children.

"I haven't named them yet," she said, stifling an exhausted yawn, and when her hand came to rest on his back it was like a static jolt of pure living energy, like the tickle of a warm flame. "But I was hoping we would stick with the ones we already talked about."

They had discussed it before the nightmares had really taken over his mind, when Padmé had been sure it would be a boy and Anakin positive it was a girl. And only now, looking down at both of them, was he finally able to match Padmé's excitement from the previous night, when they had looked upon the ultrasounds to her delight and to his absolute misery.

It wasn't that he hadn't been happy. Well — actually it was. Happiness, last night, had felt like an unfamiliar concept with which he'd long ago parted ways. Happiness had been an abstract, like a distant memory that one couldn't confirm was real, an emotion that he understood the idea of but had been completely washed away by an ocean of anguish and despair. Padmé's joy and thrill had existed to him, but only as if through a transparisteel airlock hatch. Like she'd been safe and sane on a well-lit, comfortable cruise ship, while his escape pod was about to fly into a supermassive black hole. Which was also on fire.

Maybe he was too tired for metaphors. Or too distracted. No matter. The point was, their babies had names. Names that he loved. Padmé's pick, Luke, perfect perfect Luke, and his beautiful little girl, whose name came from the ancient lore of slave culture on his homeworld: Leia.

He got to hold her for a short while after Padmé nursed her, and although he would have been content to sit here and stare at the bundle in his arms forever, surrendering her back to the warmth of the incubator was easier than he'd expected. It was the same with Luke. Because the incubators were safe, were supporting their health, unlike him, who —

Well.

He was happy. But he was also haunted. Occupied by the twins, yet preoccupied by what could have been.

What could have been. That was the question. Anakin thought he had an idea, but really —

He just didn't want to think about it.

Padmé retired back to the room to continue her exhausted sleep, and he watched her go with all the love in his heart.

What do you have to do? she had asked him last night, when he had called her from the Council chamber having half-convinced himself that she was dead already. What's more important than our love?

Nothing, Anakin thought now with finality. Nothing except these two beautiful little babies.

He stood by the incubators for a while, watching them. Watching their perfect noses, their closed eyes. Obi-Wan came back over to him.

"I hope you don't mind," his friend said softly to him, "But while she was in labor, Padmé and I talked to Dr. Bhel about getting you some sort counseling, either here in the temple or somewhere else."

Anakin huffed. "Therapy?"

"It's a good thing, Anakin," his friend said, placing a careful, comforting hand on Anakin's shoulder. "No one is forcing you, but speaking as your friend, not your master — I think it's a good idea."

"I'm not telling a stranger about my life. I clearly can't even tell my friends about my life. I'm not a victim."

Obi-Wan smiled. "But you are hurting. Anyone in your position would be."

Anakin shrugged. "I'm a father now. I'm happy."

"You can be happy about one thing and upset about another, you know."

"You said you weren't speaking as my master."

"And I can be your master sometimes and your friend the rest of the time."

"You will always be my master," Anakin said, turning to look Obi-Wan in the eyes. As soon as they locked gazes Anakin wanted to look away, but he forced himself to be steady. "But I almost had a new one last night."

"'You almost' is not the same thing as 'you do'."

"But I might have," Anakin whispered, looking back down at the wrinkly, nearly identical twins. Luke and Leia. Leia and Luke. His darlings. His perfect, and perfectly alive, darlings. "I would have. If you hadn't been there."

"If you hadn't called me," Obi-Wan corrected. "You did the right thing, Anakin, on all accounts."

"I don't feel like I did," Anakin admitted, still too tired mentally to bother hiding his feelings from Obi-Wan, the way he always did. He watched the rise and fall of Luke's chest, looked at Leia's tiny fist, and they reminded him this was all real. "I'm still angry. I still want revenge. I feel like…like I should be doing something. Like I should be getting rid of him. I feel like it's my duty, even though I can't think of anything I want to do less."

"I know you hate it when I say this, but…those feelings will pass in time."

Anakin rolled his eyes. "Yeah, with therapy, right?"

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Right."

With a deep sigh, deep enough that it let sort of a weight off his chest, he glanced away from his babies back at Obi-Wan. "I'll think about it. Maybe."

Obi-Wan folded an arm around Anakin's shoulders for a moment and smiled. "Coming from you, my friend, I believe that's a yes."

Life, Anakin knew, would never be the same from here on out. The future was as uncertain as it had always been, and somehow — that was comforting. It was normal. His life had always been jumping from one thing to the next, from slavery to apprenticeship to knighthood, mission to battle to campaign. Maybe life being uncertain was good, because the opposite — well, at this point, he didn't want to know what the opposite might entail.

You can't stop the change, anymore than you can stop the suns from setting.

Oh, Mom, he thought, idly poking one finger very gently into Luke's hand and smiling as the tiny fist closed. If only you could see what that change has wrought. I wish you could see your grandchildren.

He remembered, as if in a dream, going to Palpatine in confidence, agonized by his actions at the Tusken camp, and any trace of a smile fell from his lips. How many of his thoughts, innocent and guilty alike, would be tainted by that man? How much of him was really Anakin, and how much was planted by a Sith Lord with a plan for him? And more than anything — how far would he have gone to save these two beautiful babies?

He already knew the answer. Knew it as he knew the love he had for his children, and for his wife, and for Obi-Wan. For his mother.

In the end, Anakin decided, he didn't much care what would happen next, as long as the health and safety of his friends and family was a constant. He didn't care what happened to Palpatine, or if the Jedi kicked him out, or if Padmé was removed from the Senate. For once, he was simply relieved to be passive. He was relieved it was out of his hands. The prophecy, his destiny, whatever. In the end, more than he wanted almost anything — really, he just wanted to never see Palpatine ever again.