All growing consciousness seemed to be was a strange burning, spreading and suffocating with the slow torture of a sweltering flame.
Padme groaned lightly, squeezing her eyes painfully shut as her body shuddered in a sudden tremor of icy shivers. The events of the past were hazy at best- the oppressive heat bearing down to stifle the cold tendrils did the same to her mind, and as much as she was desperate to know the recent events nothing seemed to be able to break the fog.
Agony . . . tiredness . . . something strange . . .
Taking a staggered breath through the stifling air, Padme forced her eyes open, twisting gingerly to peer through the swarming spots of vision into the shadows. Disoriented, she turned to shake off the blankets, suddenly gasping as a sharp slash tore through her thigh. Though she stilled her leg immediately the agony continued its searing tear through her nerves, abruptly bringing a frustrated water to her eyes as her teeth clenched with the pain.
Force, it hurt, it felt like-
The door banged open, cold air rushing to hit her sweating form. "You're not supposed to get up," a voice said harshly, a hand appearing on her chest to push her gently but firmly back down. "You're not well yet."
"W-What?" she managed, her words barely discernible through the rough scratchiness of her throat.
The brief silence seemed like an eternity to her spinning consciousness. "You were- injured, Padme. Shot in the leg."
"Oh." Her mind scrambled to form coherent sentences, the overpowering heat and lingering prick of cold and pain in her limbs too much for her mind to handle. She moistened her lips, finding them dry and parched. "I- what?"
There was a curse, the voice muttering angrily to itself. "She has a fever- that damn droid must not have done a good job, she's probably got an infection-"
"I'm sorry, what?" She was getting frustrated now at the paralyzed state of her brain and the unhelpful person beside her, endeavouring to clear her throat in some attempt to sound more authoritative and get the information she needed. "What's . . . going on?"
"Just rest more."
"No, I-" She struggled to push herself back up, only to have the strong hand back on her collarbone. The face loomed into view, yellow eyes bright with unease.
No state of mind could keep her from remembering that face.
"Get back down," Vader said curtly. "You're in no position to be moving about."
"I don't feel good." She didn't feel like arguing any longer, slumping back down as her eyes moved tiredly to the ceiling. She shivered as another chill passed, swallowing over the strained roughness of her voice.
There was an extended pause.
When he spoke again the tone of his voice was different- less harsh.
"Do you need something?"
"It's too hot," she whispered, the prickling heat of her skin growing unbearable.
The silence presided once more. "Do you . . . want a bath?" he asked finally, his voice quiet. "Perhaps it will help to stem the chills."
She nodded mutely.
He inclined his head in assent, eyes vexingly impassive- if only she could decipher his expression past the dark flicker over his gaze. "Yes, I'll-" Now he stopped - seeming more unsure - looking down briefly at his hands before speaking again, more slowly. "I'll call in the med droid to help you."
Padme blinked. "What- do you mean? I'm fine; I can do it on my own."
"No, you can't," he snapped, straightening to fall back into the usual ill-nature of his demeanor. "You need assistance; you can't stand on that leg."
She rolled her eyes- he was still stubborn. "Whatever," she grumbled.
His lip twitched for a moment, but then he was moving back out of the room, the blackness and swarming lights in her vision seemingly to swell and swallow him up. She almost asked him to stay - dreading the isolation and anxious confusion of her comatose state, needing the anchor of his voice to hold her to as much of her rational reality as she could weakly grasp - but she bit her stinging lip and only fell back, closing her eyes to ignore the racing burn.
What she would give to be free of this suffocating jailer of her mind and body; and be herself once again . . .
The clanking of metal against wood invaded her awareness, the door being pushed open.
"Hello, how can I help you?
Padme opened her eyes with relief only to see a robot with glowing red eyes- and no Vader. Suddenly irritated, she made no response to the droid, swinging her good leg forcefully over the side of the bed and with gritted teeth moving her other leg heavily to follow suit, ignoring the sharp pain throbbing through her injured limb.
Why again did she except him to care?
"Hello?" came the annoyed voice. The droid made its way closer, its silver arm extending to place scaldingly cold metal on her forehead. "Well, you do seem-"
Padme yelped, withdrawing her body from its icy touch as the frigid steel burned her hot and tender skin. Wincing at the motion, she grabbed onto her leg, droplets of vexation pooling unwittingly at the corners of her eyes. "I'm sorry, can you not-"
"You are worse than I thought," went on the droid, utterly ignoring her reaction. "In a terrible state. Bad fever, low mental state-"
Her cracked voice shook with annoyance. "You know what, just-"
The door opened rather forcefully, Vader's voice hard and cold, cutting through the searing oppression of both the chilly, feverish fire and agitation bearing down upon her.
"Get out."
"But Master, you asked me-"
There was a crash as it was flung out the door, the latter slamming resolutely behind it. Without pause, Vader strode over to her, moving to lift her into his grasp; then, at her flinch, he stopped, offering her a hand with his voice gruff. "Put your weight on me."
Padme shook her head instinctively, clenching her jaw as a feeling of lighthearted dizziness washed over her senses. "No thanks- and I don't need your help."
He scowled. "You don't need to be strong with me, Padme. Just let me-"
"Oh, really?" The haze turned foggy with ill humour, her voice rising uncharacteristically bitter and acerbic. "I don't need to be strong?" She laughed, the sound hard- horrible. "Like when I raised two children in isolation, hiding from the father that was supposed to love and protect them instead of hunt for their deaths? Like when I had to fight the strangling grasp of my own husband, who called me a liar for my life? Like when I struggled for life, if only to stand for a galaxy free from suffering for my children? Tell me, Anakin-" Her chest swelled and fell sharply, the anger bleeding out from her with the withering of her strength, only vanishing all the more pitifully at the sight of him standing still - unmoving - silent as a mass of rock devoid of feeling. "No. There's no point."
He remained motionless for a long moment, her gaze trembling as she looked into the indecipherable shadow of the yellow eyes- and then, he moved slowly, carefully, bending to bring his arms to hover near her but not touching, almost as if asking permission.
"I'm going to help you into the fresher," he said quietly.
Slumping, her gaze fell blankly to the floor, and she finally nodded her head- tired. He did not speak in response; she only felt for a moment his brief touch feather-like on her wound, light and comforting before moving to scoop her up gently, his arms staying cautiously close to her legs and back. Wearily, she gingerly twisted her rigid neck, unwilling to let it fall back into the tempting warmth of his arms.
The swaying ceased as the door was pushed open with a click, a hand moving out from under her to turn the lights on dim. She did not miss the little gesture of kindness, but said nothing, only swallowing down the remorse as Vader deposit her softly into the tub and nestled her back onto the back for support. He stepped back quickly, clasping his hands behind his back with a pause.
"Can you-"
"I can do it by myself," Padme interrupted swiftly, hastily pushing the spinning dizziness away as best she could with a tilt upward of her chin.
His mouth twitched. "You don't have to be so nervous. I am your husband," he remarked dryly. "I've seen it all."
"Whatever," she snapped, feeling her cheeks colour. "Just leave."
His face almost looked like it wore a slight smile- she had missed that smile. "All right," he said nonchalantly. "Call me in if you need anything."
"As if," she muttered under her breath, turning around.
Padme swore he might have chuckled before the door shut behind him.
Vader shook his head in slight amusement, leafing through the clothes he had gotten to select a comfortable set of sleep pants and shirt to wear. Seeing the package he had hidden in the pile, he withdrew the brown paper to tuck it neatly into his drawer, covering it nicely with the black fabric inside. Now was not the time.
He paused briefly at the fresher door before speaking, smiling faintly at the sound of her relieved exhales. "I have a new set of clothes." Opening the door a crack with his head turned, he placed the new bundle of clothes on the counter, shutting the door swiftly after. "Change when you're done, and I'll help you back to bed to re-wrap new bandages."
"Oh." Her voice wavered slightly with uncertainty, the sound bouncing with an echo over the walls of the fresher. "Thank you."
Vader cleared his throat. "You're welcome."
There was a long silence- and then when she likely thought he had left he heard a grim sigh, the water sloshing as she presumably rose to get something. He shifted, feeling uneasy. Her words earlier . . . they . . .
His perturbed train of thought was broken as the shuffling ceased, a voice coming from inside.
"I'm done."
Vader rose, picking up the new bandage and materials to slide open the fresher door. A burst of hot air hit him, the heat of the steam making him want to cough.
"Oh, sorry," Padme said quietly, noticing the brief clenching of his eyes.
"It's fine," he said shortly, wiping at his face. "Here- I'll wrap it quickly now, so that you can get some more rest."
Kneeling to match her on the floor, Vader set to work rapidly, pushing her pant leg farther up to make space for the bandage and grimacing at the sight of the angry red wound. He kept his gaze intently fixed on the cleaning cloth and bottle of disinfecting solution- doing his best to keep his touch light and unintrusive and his eyes from wandering from his purpose. Though she drew in a sharp, pained breath at the touch of the alcohol to her skin, she remained silent throughout his work, gaze rooted unseeingly past her limb and violent twitches the only sign of her discomfort. He withdrew the liquid quickly at each one - disturbed by the thought of having to cause her more of the agony of the past couple days - but Padme only nodded for him to continue, gritting her teeth painfully. Vader could admit he was relieved when he finally got to the wrapping, the balm on the bandages a stark and preferable contrast to the previous solution. Working in silence, he pulled firmly at the white material, his mind flitting away from the natural motion of the task to the words pressing pain into his temple.
I don't need to be strong? . . . Like when I raised two children in isolation, hiding from the father that was supposed to love and protect them instead of hunt for their deaths? Like when I had to fight the strangling grasp of my own husband, who called me a liar for my life?
He had never wanted . . . realized . . . and now, a forbidden emotion rose, because as much as he tried to gather a response he only realized he had nothing to say to her . . .
Tell me, Anakin.
Anakin . . .
He had not heard that that for a lifetime, had been taught to hate and despise it and everything that came with it, yet- he did not mind so much if she called him that, if only he could hear it on her tongue again, the caress of the syllables audible even through the anger . . .
"I-I want to try and help," he said suddenly, his words sounding pitiful to the sneering scorn of the beast within.
She started. "W-What?"
"You are strong," he said, more clearly now, though his uncertain gaze stayed on the task at hand, away from her eyes- how could he look into those eyes and face the judgement there? "You are stronger than every single man on my ship and under my command- but I don't want you to have to be strong, I want you to-" He stopped, feeling a heat coming to his face. "I don't know," he finished lamely.
Padme was quiet- and he continued the wrapping, as swiftly as he could now, needing to get away from her piercing gaze. When he was finished, he dropped his hands quickly, still avoiding her eyes as he scooped up the pile of dirty clothes he spotted on the floor beside her, standing rapidly. "Well-"
The clink broke his concentration.
Hanging from the pile of clothes- its simple brown cord blending in to almost invisibility entwined in the dark material - the . . .
Japor snippet.
All the memories rushed back them, in an all consuming tidal wave, percolating like water through every obstacle he'd build up against the past in the last three years as they crashed down before it like the crumbling of rock.
Are you an angel?
I gave this to you, so you'd remember me.
Oh Ani, I don't need this to remember you.
He couldn't speak - breathe - all he saw was the carved piece of japor, still so bright and clean, innocently white and simply beautiful among all the tainted evil of his home; and as his trembling gaze went up at last to hers, her deep caramel eyes, regretful and resigned but aching and raw with something, beautiful . . . he felt . . .
"Padme . . . "
His finger reverently outlined the carvings, and then moved to bring it up to her neck, laying a quavering hand lightly over her shuddering pulse.
Did she still love-?
"Please . . . " she whispered then, her voice broken. "I-I need you to leave."
No words would come; he opened his mouth, yet only uttered her name, again, stuttering over the beautiful syllables with all of the pleading his Sith heart could offer.
"Padme . . . "
"No!" she said suddenly, shaking her head as a fire blazed forth and flickered in the caramel, turning it to a dark colour that deepened with growing wetness. "Just go!"
He couldn't bear her gaze, then; he turned and left, the japor snippet clutched in his grasp like it was an anchor he hoped would somehow pull him from the churning sea.
