Luke Naberrie comes into the world at 1:46 in the morning, greeted by shouting and worried tears. No one asks Anakin if he wants to cut the cord. There is no time—no sooner have his parents laid eyes on him than he is out the door, surrounded by doctors.
There is no time to do anything but trust them, because it's only halfway through.
Leia Naberrie is born at 2:13 and is whisked off in just the same manner. This time, Padmé reaches out a feeble hand.
"Wait, can't I hold—" she half-whispers. When she's ignored, she turns to her husband. "Anakin, go with her."
"I won't leave you," he says. Padmé has already bled a lot and she still has the afterbirth to go. Anakin still can't shake the feeling that he is watching his worst nightmare unfold before his waking eyes.
"Anakin, go," Padmé insists. "Go, then come back and tell me they're alright."
Heart hammering and cursing the fact that he can't be in both places at once, Anakin does as she asks.
Luke is wrinkly and fuzzy and just two pounds, tinier than Anakin ever imagined a baby could be. The humidified incubator looks far too large for him. He has a tiny respirator and heart monitor and an IV that's as wide as his leg, and Anakin is told he can't hold him but it's enough just to crouch there, looking through the glass.
Once Leia has been fitted with the same equipment and her vitals have been pronounced steady, Anakin is permitted to see her too. She's got about four ounces on Luke, but she still looks unnaturally small to him. He already loves them so much it hurts.
Anakin's anxiety for Padmé is creeping back in. He never had any dreams about the babies being ill, after all, it was always her. He decides to hurry back to her, although it takes a few minutes to tear his eyes away from his daughter and son.
Padmé is still so weak she can barely lift her head to greet him. Anakin hopes it is just from the exhaustion and the pain meds. He swoops in and hugs her, dries his tears on her shoulder, and she rests her head on his chest.
"They're so tiny. But they're wonderful," he reports.
Padmé heaves a tired sigh, tears shining in her eyes. "I want to see them."
"Soon," Anakin promises, getting teary as well for the millionth time that day. Maybe in a few hours he can take Padmé up to see them, in a hoverchair or something, he thinks.
Anakin's heart pounds in his ears as he reaches out to tuck a flyaway hair behind Padmé's ear. He's never seen her so pale.
She shifts a bit and closes her eyes. "Could you keep doing that?" she mumbles softly. So Anakin strokes her hair while she falls asleep.
Ruwee and Jobal Naberrie arrive, having taken the earliest transport available to Coruscant when Padmé had commed them the previous evening. They take over Anakin's job of fussing about her, thus giving him an excuse to go back to the NICU for a little while. He already misses the babies so much that he nearly takes the trip back across the medcenter at a run.
Not much has changed. He hates the sight of them strapped to so many machines. It sets off alarms that rattle through his brain, seeing them look so vulnerable, so precious and so easy to lose.
At a nurse's suggestion, Anakin gives his hands a thorough scrub under hot water, returns, and reaches into Leia's incubator. His pinkie finger is wider than her wrist, but when he strokes her palm, her fingers instinctively curl around it.
"Hi sweetheart," he whispers, suddenly tearful again. He feels a swell of energy in the Force bond they already seem to have. Some weeks ago he'd begun to sense the twins as bright lights distinct from Padmé's Force signature, but now they both glow like supernovae.
Anakin is unaware of eyes watching him from the doorway.
The eyes are analyzing Anakin's body language and thinking that this was a twist he had not foreseen, but no matter. The situation might yet be salvaged.
"I simply can't imagine what you're going through, my boy," says the Chancellor.
He steps forward, approaching the incubators to give Anakin a comforting pat on the shoulder.
"It's a miracle that they're all okay," Anakin sniffles.
The Chancellor gives him a curious look that sends uneasiness straight down his spine. "I've always admired your optimism, Anakin. I suppose you're right, it's in poor taste to discuss these things before they've happened."
"What does that mean?"
Palpatine shakes his head.
Anakin stares at him.
After a calculated pause, he explains, "I am only concerned for you, dear boy. I fear this could be dreadfully hard on you if you let your hopes fly too high. Sadly it's far too common for complications to arise in these situations. The poor little things have no immune system, and medcenters like this are a hub for pathogens."
"You don't think they're going to make it?" asks Anakin, horror dawning on his face as his mind is opened to new and terrible possibilities.
"No, no, I have no doubt that they will. You must forgive an old man, Anakin, I have seen so many things go wrong that it is hard to remember that they may sometimes go right. Forget all about it, my dear."
Leia lets go of Anakin to throw her arms up over her head, wriggling. Anakin glances over at Luke, sleeping motionless. They have defied the odds so far, so there is no reason to think that will change. Will it?
"Now, if you ever did worry that they might need more specialized care, I would be happy to arrange a carefully vetted team of experts at a private medcenter."
Anakin is taken aback for a moment. It has not occurred to him to doubt the professionals here. He doesn't know what to say. "That's a…generous offer, Chancellor."
"Anything for you, dear Anakin, you know that."
Leia continues squirming, and Anakin calms her by stroking her tummy with one curled finger, cooing softly.
"Think about it, dear boy. I am only ever a comm away. You have suffered so much, I would hate to see you go through another ordeal."
Anakin nods his thanks, a new wave of nausea settling in his stomach. "This is the happiest day of my life," he'd said when Padmé told him she was pregnant. He might have thought this day would be even happier, but all he's feeling right now is a burning desire to annihilate any threat to his family. Except that the problem at hand is not one he can strike down with a lightsaber. He doesn't like the empty, angry nauseous feeling that thought gives him.
Palpatine exits, and although Anakin is still unpacking this new feeling, Leia almost immediately begins to settle down and join her brother in sleep.
Eyes burning with exhaustion and too-frequent tears, he whispers promises to the sleeping babies that they are safe and loved, and that he will return soon.
Padmé is finally resting as well, it seems. Ruwee pulls him into a hug and kisses his forehead like he were her own son. For the first time since the previous evening, Anakin realizes there's nowhere left to hurry. It's already well into the morning, and they've done all that they can.
He thinks that Padmé has improved a bit, there's a bit of color returned to her skin. Her father moves over to make room for him to sit by the bedside. Together they wait, hopeful.