DISCLAIMER: I own nothing apart from my own work. I do not own Star Wars, LucasFilms, Disney, Anakin Skywalker - fml - and if this work of fiction is similar to any that have been done before, I apologise in advance. I can assure you, this was created from my mind with Star Wars as the basis and my own insanity commingled in.

Author's Note: I apologise for the atmosphere that the last chapter brought, but I also don't apologise in the slightest. Who doesn't love Anidala intimacy? Anyways... Promise that this chapter continues on with the story and you guys... Take a breath, a deep breath... And enjoy. Or die a little, entirely up to you.

I'd also like to remind you guys that this is my take on the story, and whatever you read ahead, is all my opinion on the whole matter of Padmé's death. I'll just say Iain McCaig illustrated various scenes and I got my beliefs from there. One last thing... WE HIT 150 RESPONSES GUYS! I couldn't thank you all enough for everything and I truly do love each and every single one of you nuggets for the sole reason that you enjoy this - or hopefully enjoy it. I promise I'll keep writing as long as you keep enjoying. With all that said, I hope you survive this!


For an instant, eternal beat, Anakin watched her. He simply watched her. Silence pursued around, encasing him in a cocoon that stunted any and all action to halt within the circle that was of him and his beloved. There were words spoken, shouted, but Anakin remained paralysed in his mind; eyes simply staring down at the cold, paling face before him.

It was so cold, all heat gone as if a Hothan wind blew over. Its gusts wrapping around and constricting the perimeter even as his organs collapsed and his bones withered into dust, blowing away and lost forever.

In the distance, he could hear a voice - a voice unfamiliar to him. Filled with anguish, strained tightly with an insurgence of immense torture. Was it his voice? It must have been because it was the only voice speaking within the invisible ray-shield that swirled around them. It was filled with such emotion - love, heartbreak; pain, hatred. Emotions a Jedi shouldn't be capable of, and even then, Vader could be heard within the low growls pulsating beneath Anakin's voice. They were one in that moment, crying out to the love lost. To the life ended against its will and their own, as well. The current that had always rooted itself deeply into the lovers' bodies and souls was severed savagely leaving a gaping wound in its wake. Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader were one as the dragon towered over both of them and watched with a knowing sneer.

The dragon had warned them; had told them that all things die, yet, neither believed him. And oh, how wrong they had been to defy the dragon.

Finally, the voice that belonged to both entities cried out. A mixture of fire and ice occurred as the body they resided in gripped onto the operating table with such immeasurable tenacity, holes were torn through in the wake of the mechno-ligaments. The body that had fallen to its knees convulsed with such fervor that the lifeless body upon the table he was grasping onto shook to the point where her head fell sideways, looking at him. Though Padmé could never look at him again for her brown eyes were not lost forever.

Anakin's cry had silenced everyone then, and as blue eyes opened, glazed over with more tears than ever before - even more than the ones that fell for his mother - he fixated his gaze onto her lifeless features.

He would never see her eyes again. Their colour so far from the mundane brown of others, but more of a mixture of the richest chocolate and the finest of amber woven together. He would never see her straight nose wrinkle slightly at the bridge when he told her something distasteful solely to get that exact reaction - usually pertaining to politics in which another onslaught of her reactions graced his presence. Anakin would never see Padmé point her chin upwards to reinstate her authority amongst those around. He would never see her forehead fold as she thought of various outcomes for duties, nor would he see her scowl at the way he spoke highly of his feats in the battles he had survived. And most of all, he would never feel the warmth of her lips against his, molding to the form of his love as he caused a blush to arise against the palms of his hands and words to be whispered for only his mouth to hear. Her love spoken in secrecy for only him to keep.

He had broken her. There was no more secrets, no more lies. They had pledged their love to one another, and though it was made of deception and falsities, it was a love that withstood anything because it could withstand their sentient beings that were so powerful to begin with. He had broken her, but she had broken him.

"Padmé! Padmé! Padmé!" Anakin continued. "Don't you dare leave me! Don't you dare! This was supposed to be our family, our life!

Hands desperately went from the titanium table to the softness of her face. The limbs shaking with uncontrollable adrenaline that was racing through him, making him sick. There was too much power within the single body. Too much that could not be restrained - Anakin realised that now. This power that the Chancellor had shown him, had bestowed upon him after giving him the knowledge of what he was capable of, it was uncontrollable now that he was unable to be in control of his own self.

Anakin could see the dragon now, smirking in all its fiery glory at the sight before him. The dragon had allowed him to bring forth Vader, leaving him in his heart to stay. The cold venom harvesting itself in his blood. The furnace that had risen into existence when given the task to kill so many, and the black hatred of everything after realising it was all a lie. The Jedi, the Chancellor, the 501st Legion, and the Republic… And himself. They were all a lie and he... He was a lie. The biggest of them all.

He had made a promise to his mother that he would not fail again and he had made the same promise to Padmé - that he would not let her succumb to the virtues of his nightmares. Yet, both women had perished in his arms, right before him, and left. And he could not keep either of them alive.

To Anakin, he held dead promises that came in the bodies of his most dearly loved ones. A promise should be eternal, just as his love for his mother and his Padmé, yet both had died. To Anakin, his promises felt like a lethal injection.

Within his mind, Anakin searched for the dark beings that had consumed his light. He walked blindly through an infinite abyss, but there was no dragon, nor was there a looming Vader. All that was left was Anakin Skywalker in his own stale mind. It had been him all along - the one who killed his mother, the one that killed his love, and the one that had killed who he was. In that blazing moment within the confines of his mind, Anakin Skywalker couldn't see anything else other than the hatred he had for himself. A mirror of the worst proportions.

The man raged and screamed, reaching into the Force of both darkness and light to savagely murder it all. He could hear the sounds of instruments crushing and voices screaming in fear. There were objects flying through the air around him and the face of his lover shaking. Her cold, hard carcass being inflicted against its own will with the repercussions of his wake. The hands of flesh and durosteel released themselves from their saviour, throwing themselves backwards as Anakin opened his chest and face for all of the world to see.

A shadow had taken over. From the glow of his red-rimmed eyes, to the strained tendons and veins breaching as they were near explosion. The shadow had destroyed him and Anakin was so far less than what he ever was now that he had lost the most vital thing to him - his soul. His strength. His weakness. His serenity. His future and his past. It was all gone now with the body that lay before him.

"NO!"

The power released itself again. Exploding in waves that could easily be compared to the sandstorms of Tatooine, the blizzards of Hoth, and the volcanic eruptions of Mustafar all combined in one tremulous phenomenon. Various things erupted as if they were bombs detonating sporadically. Bacta tanks shot their liquids in various directions along with the glass that shattered quickly, the medicinal liquid spewing everywhere. Droids continued to crumble as if they were the thinnest of paper being smashed. Even the machines that had been connected to Padmé began ringing out the sound of her death and, within seconds, their tones were quickly muted upon his power compressing them, too.

Anakin's furnace heart went ablaze then as bright, yellow eyes widened their perimeter to look at those who dared to allow her to die. It had been their fault, after all. It had been all of their faults combined. For not only was he to blame, it was also them for they had everything within their reach and capability to save the woman from her death. Machines had proved themselves unworthy only until the moment to ring out her death. Healers had delivered but had not healed. The machines were all but gone and now it was time for the true enemies to meet their end. Shaak Ti… Vokara Che… Kyrus Mass… Barriss Offee.

And the furnace heart blew.

He did not see the newborn that was in her caress, nor did he hear the warning shouts of the others around, their Force-sensitivity feeling the lethal disruption within the Force. It did not matter, for all Anakin saw was what everyone else surely saw in him - a traitor. His blue eyes bursting with gold only saw the treacherous olive skin of the Mirialan. Her blue eyes that were said to have been banned from the Temple, and black hair that was held back with a wrap that Anakin wanted nothing more than to strangle her with. But he had something much more potent to do his bidding.

Barriss Offee did not belong there, more so than any of the others. The hatred Anakin had for her only seemed to triple to a new height; magnify to the most potent intensity. She did not belong there, it screamed out to him. She must be exterminated. She did this to Padmé. Not only did she not belong, she deserved to die - and Anakin saw nothing else but the truth it what the hatred said. Barriss deserved the worst of punishments - of true death, since the moment that she had confessed her betrayal to Ahsoka. Now, he would finally be able to finish what should have been concluded so long ago. Something that should have been done because it surely would have saved Padmé today.

Anakin stood to his full height, the shadows looming over him making him appear taller than he already was. With the full weight of the Force, he delved himself deeply into the surrounding energy; his own energy becoming invisible hooks that grappled onto the various bursts of currents that swirled with the Force. It tore at the very fabrics of the sole thing that lived while everything else was seemingly dead; Anakin savagely clawed at it all until it met the throat of Barriss.

Who a person truly is cannot be seen with the eye. Just as every being in the room watched the man before them, sickness welling in the very center of their chests and pits of their stomachs from the darkness radiating profusely from him - none of them would have ever thought that the Chosen One would fall so low. It had been there, though. Right before them, but they had been blind to it all. It always had been within, and in that moment, Anakin showed just the extent he was capable of.

Shaak Ti, crouched low and on the opposite side of Anakin, remained with her head intact, quickly assessing the situation at hand and holding the infant boy close to her chest though it protested grandly. Large, black eyes widened even further as she felt the surge of Anakin's power shoot towards Barriss and the Jedi Master reached a hand forward, eyes closing as she called the twin of the boy in the Merialan's arms towards her and out of her grasp. Still having been shaken from the explosion of the Force that burst from Anakin, Barriss had not expected Master Ti, nor anyone else for the matter, to act so quickly; but before her mind could reattach itself to her brain, the constriction in her throat began.

Anakin's agony shot out like an invisible hand, the full reign of his uncontrollable power immediately seizing the air in Barriss' throat as he tightened his grip on her. She began to levitate off of the ground, feet thrashing as her hands clawed at her throat, but there was nothing there that her hands could touch. He fed off of her fear and pain, letting it well inside of him before he twitched his fingers, breaking her neck ruthlessly and slamming the body to the floor with a chorus of bones breaking.

The loud voice of Master Vokara Che rang deep into his mind, her blue hand grabbing hold of his leather-wrapped durosteel forearm, trying to force him to control himself so that she could attend to the woman before him. She had no chance to process her body sailing through the air and towards Kyrus Mass, a fellow Jedi Knight, who had been injured during a most recent mission. Their bodies hitting one another only to be thrown against a bacta tank and cracking the glass with the force that they hit it with.

Gold eyes shot towards their next victim, guiding the man they belonged to to inflict the wrath that flowed out of him due to the amount within.

"There is still hope for her, Anakin Skywalker!" the Togrutan shouted, already releasing the twins to two of the Padawans that had regained themselves after the Force blow.

Anakin cried out, throwing back the few that dared to try and restrain him. Nothing could restrain him, not even himself. The dragon, Darth Vader, and Anakin Skywalker were combined and the fury of the trinity relinquished itself to reality for the first time as one. Their rage was wearing thin, though. Oxygen depleting, as well as the coal that had kept the furnace going.

"Liar!" he shouted back in a venomous cry. He was seething despite the rage that was hissing as it unknowingly went out.

How can there be hope? Anakin focused his attention, forcing the other two remnants of the demons that resided in him to reach out to Padmé. To feel the life inside of her in all of its heavenly glory, but to no avail since they were nearly all dead. There were parts of her - tiny, microscopic beings - that remained glowing with a dimming light. These parts of her having no chance to truly make themselves known for each one simmered to darkness before Anakin could grab hold of them. Like fireflies dying in the palm of his hand, refusing to be captured but once imprisoned, rejecting all forms of imprisonment.

There was no hope. There was only death and that was that.

"You failed!" Anakin shouted, eyes dark and voice like fire erupting once more. "You killed her!"

Shaak Ti stepped forward, unafraid of the fallen Jedi's wrath. "I have done no such thing, Anakin."

Exertion drenched waves fell forward, curtaining the dark features as Anakin lowered his head at the statement. Tears continued to stream from his eyes, as if they were reacting badly to the change of colour they were transitioning to. With the feral yellow of the Sith, it brought redness to rim the lids along with a lost, black abyss to the pupils. His jaw was clenched tightly and Anakin forwarded the excess energy to constrict against another bacta tank.

"You said you would care for her! And now she's dead! She's dead!"

His invisible grip was around the slender, orange neck before she could fight her case. Master Ti's mind shouted for the young man to see reason; to see that she could still be saved for she could sense it. His mind was clouded, unlike her's. His mind was filled with the confirmed fear of the loss rather than the yearning hope that should be instilled in that moment. With few grunts of discomfort, Shaak Ti directed waves of serenity, with the help of the Force, towards Anakin. It did little good, though, for the grip only tightened.

"She… Is n-ot… Lost," the Jedi Master strained outwards. The strength of the choke diminishing slightly.

A sound similar to a sob broke its way from the twisted creature standing before the body of its lover, though he didn't dare release his hold on the being he wanted so much to end. Shaak Ti was the one he was meant to end. The Chancellor had instructed for him to. Yet, he had kept her alive because she was the only way for Padmé to be taken to safety. He could have brought her to the Halls of Healing himself and ended the Togrutan's life outside of the Temple. It could have been as simple as that, yet he had given her a task that only proved to be fatal.

"You were supposed to keep her safe!" said a voice that should have been Anakin's. "How could you let her die!"

"I did not let her die!" Shaak nearly shouted, resorting to her ulterior voice to try and pierce through his mind to make him see reason.

It did the opposite.

Padmé had pleaded for him to stay with her. That she would stay so long as he would stay there with her. His tendency to think only as he wanted to blinded him from seeing the truth in what she meant. Anakin understood then, that she didn't mean it physically. It had all been mentally, yet he had been so clouded with the objective at hand at the time that he couldn't see it. He couldn't see what he had done to her. And it hit him, then. It truly came to him in one, eternal revelation that it was himself that had done this to her.

Anakin released the woman from his inflictions, as well as the surrounding room. It grew silent then as all energy was absorbed and the ways of the Force turned stale from the sudden declination of usage. He dropped to his knees in defeat and utter exhaustion; head bowed down to his deceased lover as if she were an angel he were praying to.

I'll stay with you if you stay with me, she had said. The words echoing into his mind as what little of his drowning eyes could see as they looked upon the diminished life-source of his wife. She was so perfect, even now as she was no longer truly there. So perfect, yet so broken. Just as she had always been upon him joining her journey in life.

What have I done, Anakin whispered into his mind. What have I done?

A soft touch was given as Anakin reached forth to caress her cheek. A sickly colour already taking the place of the blushed warmth that had been there moments ago. A ghost of a smile came onto his face as Anakin forgot, for just a moment, that he was not touching a corpse. That Padmé was merely sleeping. Dreaming of tomorrow where they would be raising their family in peace. Where they were accepted for who they were and what they stood for. No war. No Republic. No Jedi Order. Just the two of them and their child. Children, a distant voice whispered into his mind. Luke and Leia.

Another sob sounded from his chest and the sound only continued in a cyclical way. Continuing as Anakin attempted to grasp for something, anything.

"I'll stay with you, Padmé! I'll stay with you, just stay with me! Please! Please, don't leave me alone. I'll stay, I promise, I'll stay," Anakin chanted in a voice as dead as his lover.

If silence could be muted, the operating room had summoned it.

Those who had been inflicted with his power looked on as the medical droids took the uninterrupted vantage towards the woman to assess the body. It was all gone now. The body of Anakin Skywalker was left as an empty carcass with nothing else residing in it - lost, confused... An abyss. He knew that his pleading was a shout into the void, oblivion already met, but his heart refused to believe such a thing. His heart would refuse this until the day that he died and even beyond. Anakin knew that he would forever want nothing more than to claw out the source that craved for her - tear it from his chest so that the darkness would be easier to accept. But, even then, his heart would still refuse. It would continue to burn with the necessity of her touch, of her lips, of Padmé against his body or in his gentle caress. His heart told him to search in himself, to know that it could not be true - that her death could not be true. Such a strong, powerful entity could not be gone. His heart surged with a Force of its own, becoming the invisible hand Anakin so often used to feel and search through the ways of the Force that surrounded him with. It was all internal now - everything. His heart became his strength, his weakness. Anakin's heart became Padmé.

He who surrenders hope, surrenders life.

The words rang true in Anakin - from the bones of his spine to the fibres and ligaments of his eyes and muscles. Padmé couldn't be dead because he would not allow it. The Chancellor had said that another was capable of saving someone from death. Another was capable, and they weren't even the Chosen One. Anyone could save another from death, and yes, she had died, but being the Chosen One surely amounted to the fact that he could revive her. All along, his powers had amounted to what they were because of what he was destined to be and what he could and would do. So, why was he able to destroy the Sith and save the galaxy from darkness, yet be unable to save the last essence of light that resided in the galaxy? It didn't make any sense to him.

The Chancellor had said that he would gain the power to save Padmé after completing his task of slaying the Jedi. By cleansing the galaxy from the impurities that were said to be the actual enemy. That wasn't the case now that he could see with clarity. Death wasn't his answer. A thousand deaths would never be equal to Padmé's death, but the only thing that could rival the agony he felt of her death was the love he held for her life.

The moment that the realisation hit was eternal; fueling his insides with a new venom that coursed faster than any Force-driven sentient ever could. As if every crevice of him had a mind and within the same moment the words of truth were spoken, every part of him burst with an understanding clarity of the situation.

Anakin had more power than any Jedi could dream of and was stronger than any Sith ever was because he was now in control of the darkness within. He was the Chosen One. Since the first day life shed its light onto him, it was the very reason as to why he was everything. Anakin was the Jedi and Anakin was the Sith - the light and the dark - together as one. He was the Force and everything it established. And in that moment, he was the only thing that could give life to one who had been lost too soon.

Hands lowered themselves from the anchoring embrace they had held on Padmé's soft facial features. The hand of durosteel traveling to her stomach that was no longer hard with the strain of their children, and the hand of flesh venturing to be placed over her heart. It brought pain as Anakin knew he wouldn't receive her heart's answering beat, yet with the pain, it summoned forth a suffocating amount of determination.

The determination became more than an invisible hand now. Taking on forearms that connected to shoulders that became attached to a torso, stemming downwards with powerful legs as a skull formed and a mind blooming within its core. His determination became an essence of the Force that he had created, helping him with hands that stretched out into the Force within Padmé and rooting themselves to her. Anakin felt the silken softness of her skin and the loose material that was all but gone to his senses.

The way of the Force he had created felt more than physicality. It did not feel the sleek coils of her hair, nor did it deter its advancements due to the death within. Instead, the body was dissolving into pure energy - just as the invisible hand had done before - that only evaporated into pure feeling that reached inside her once more. It did not surround her, nor was it controlling her - it was becoming her. It felt her as if she were dipped into the very core of the Force; attaching itself to the bond she had with life. A connection that was deeper and more intimate than Anakin had ever felt before, for the essence he had created was channeling its discoveries back to him. His breathing was sharp, but he held onto his hope stronger than anything else that had been before.

Then, just as the body had become Padmé, Anakin followed in its wake. He ventured into the still veins; into her stiffening muscles; the inactive brain until he went back down to where his left hand was placed over. Anakin could feel his own power radiating downwards onto the heart he was grasping to. He could feel his own fist clenching around the organ, remembering the tune that it beat when she was asleep and when she was awake. When she was in total serenity, as well as when she was angry. A pulse he recalled with so much pleasure that touching her heart brought him to every moment they spent together. From the moment they met, to their marriage and every point of happiness they shared up until that point.

Anakin noticed that everything felt dry within the angelic shell, as if it had been depleted from something more than just her life. Like a fire trying to go on without coals or oxygen, the mechno-hand above her deflating belly sensed the remnants of the cause. A scowl took place on Anakin's exerted forehead, the sweat pooling in the crevices. How? he questioned as his connection to Padmé was slightly deterred for second as confused, blue eyes looked up to the Jedi Healer who had been standing before him.

"The... The twins... They're Force-sensitive already, correct? So, when a woman is pregnant, do the child and mother share blood or like a bond or...?" Anakin tumbled over his words; his body not nearly as connected to his mind as it should have been.

Eyes returned downwards to Padmé's still form. His mind was churning but Anakin knew the answer to his questions, his mind simply hadn't formulated just exactly how he knew. The Twi'lek, however, was able to piece together exactly what the Jedi Knight was trying to understand and immediately placed her hands on top of his in an attempt to make him understand and continue what he was doing.

"She is deprived!" Master Che exclaimed more so to herself than to answer Anakin.

The two Force-sensitive Jedi looked up with astonished looks coated over the hues of their eyes, the shock of the discovery paralysing them for a mere second before Anakin held the hand that had been over her heart towards the woman.

"Give her my blood. She needs midi-chlorians," he hastily told her. There was one thing certain, though - his words were clear. "NOW."

Of course she died. How could she not? How could I not have seen this? It's like the downworlders on Crude; you take it away, they die. Luke and Leia took their midi-chlorians upon their birth leaving her empty after so long. Of course!

Anakin had sensed it before, but merely shrugged it off with the thought that it was Leia - and Luke, he added. Not once, though, had he thought that the baby would have this immense of an effect on Padmé. A small smile wavered onto his pink lips, sparked by the genuine hope grasping onto his being. The arm that was extended was being dealt with a droid, pushing up the dark brown sleeves to gain access to his forearm.

What Padmé needed were midi-chlorians to compensate for the loss of the withdrawals that had killed her. Being, at least to his knowledge, the most Force-sensitive wielder to ever exist, that made those who shared his bloodline to be just as potent within the Force. And if Master Che were correct, radical transformations in a woman were normal during pregnancy - the midi-chlorian count was more than likely higher in her blood at the time of her pregnancy because of the double amount that the twins brought. She was probably stronger in the Force than he ever would be and due to this, the birth of the twins left her empty in their wake.

Anakin replaced his hand over her heart once the blood was taken, reattaching himself to the connection he had been in before but this time with a brightness to his soul knowing he could save her now. With his blood in her body, he could ignite the Force within and also illuminate the life-source inside of her. He would become her body, her organs, the blood now forcing its way into her veins.

Anakin became Padmé once more.

Again, Anakin remembered the beat of her heart. The touch of her silken fingers. Her lips as she spoke his name - speaking a prayer to the stars and the bursting galaxies beyond. Her purity for seeing goodness in others; the passion for even the smallest of things; the truth in her love for him, their children, the world... And everything inside of Anakin screamed to the Force within Padmé.

I love you, Padmé, Anakin said from within. I will not let you die. I will not let you go as my mother did and I will stay with you. Wherever you go, whatever you do... We are one. We will always be one, my love. I will stay.

And a voice of clarity screamed back like a thousand voices needing to be heard. Blue eyes stained with burning tears burst open as Anakin was thrown back with a current of the Force. He fell hard onto the floor, all connection to Padmé lost. His hands stung from the impact of the floor, as did his body as it absorbed the impact. But none of it mattered. Everything was in stunned silence because on the steel table before him lay a woman, one of skin so soft it put silk to shame and a voice so strong it silenced many. On the steel table before everyone lay a woman with her back raised from the metal surface and her mouth agape, lungs gasping for air with hands that clawed at the edges of the operating table.

On the steel table was a woman with brown eyes wide open as she searched her surroundings only to land on blue eyes already staring back at her.