Precipice by shadowsong26

Homecoming: Chapter 3

It had been six weeks since the Temple had burned around him, and Anakin was more than ready to leave Polis Massa and get back to the fight.

Well, all right, technically, he hadn't been "officially" cleared to leave yet, but that was a minor detail as far as he was concerned. He felt fine, most of the time. He could breathe more or less normally again; his flesh arm, while the grip was still a little weaker than he liked, was out of its cast and functional; he no longer got dizzy when he stood up too fast. Everything else, he could push through in the field as easily as in the medcenter.

Maybe even easier. At least out there, he wouldn't have well-meaning doctors and med droids getting upset when he tried to run through basic conditioning exercises without their approval. The droids, he could (and did) deactivate, but when one of the Kallidahin caught him, it was a little more complicated. Watching them flail a little in their concern would almost be funny, he reflected, if they didn't keep trying to sedate him.

And... all right, he would admit he wasn't sleeping very well. But that didn't mean he liked being sedated or was willing to put up with it. He'd spent an entire week unconscious. That was more than enough. Besides, he could only sleep when Leia did, which was about two hours at a time on average. That was, he was pretty sure, a normal part of raising a baby. So, even if he hadn't been having nightmares, he'd be going short. Not that anyone knew about those, thank the Force. He hadn't told anyone-not even Obi-Wan. Which doesn't count as keeping secrets, he told himself. He has enough to deal with without worrying about my problems. Besides, he needs me to be okay. That's what he said, right?

At least the nightmares weren't about the future anymore. He'd take these over visions of Padmẻ dying any day.

Because you're selfish, broken, a failure -a terrible Jedi, terrible Chosen One, you never learn-

He'd gotten better at shutting those guilt spirals down, too. A little bit. Mostly.

Leia helped. She picked up on it, at least when it got really bad, and started crying. Over the past few weeks, he'd gotten to tell the difference between that cry-the one he privately translated as 'Daddy, stop whining'-and when she was hungry, or tired, or needed to be changed. That one, though, was the worst, because it was all his fault, and he knew it. He was getting better at picking up on it himself before she had to and shoving it aside like the Jedi he was supposed to be. And he'd keep getting better, because she deserved that from him.

Some days were worse than others. On those days, he was pretty sure he wouldn't have made it as far as he did if he didn't have her. Especially now that Obi-Wan was in and out, running missions (without him).

It wasn't that he was jealous, exactly. Just...frustrated. He was meant for doing things, not sitting and waiting for Obi-Wan to come by and update him on everything that was going on.

Especially when most of the news was...not good. The Chancellor's regime was organized, and he had an army-two things that their resistance didn't have yet. Obi-Wan was doing what he could, but he was a cup of water flinging himself onto a blazing inferno.

And Anakin was doing nothing to help.

He felt useless-and, worse than useless. Powerless… unable to do anything but watch the world continuing to crumble around him. Especially when it was all his fault anyways.

Stop it, he reminded himself.

Easier said than done.

Today, though, things were looking up. The Kallidahin had dug up a ship for him-he didn't ask where; he didn't especially care. It was a decent size, probably big enough for him and Leia to live on more or less full-time at least for the next couple years; damaged, but mostly internally-none of the repairs to restore basic functionality would require any heavy lifting, just a lot of time-consuming detail work. And the improvements he already had half-planned in his head would need parts he couldn't get here, anyway.

The point was, all he had to do was fix it, and he'd be able to leave whenever he wanted. And he was good at fixing things.

(He was pretty sure this had been Obi-Wan's idea, actually, but he wasn't going to complain or ask, in case they decided to take it away.)

So, he'd packed up Leia and everything the two of them were likely to need for the day and headed down to the hangar to get started. First thing he did, he found a safe place to set his daughter, where he could keep an eye on her while he worked. This is gonna be harder when she starts crawling. ...I'll worry about that when we get there. Focus on right now, don't dwell on the past or the future, or I'll start spiraling again. Just...fix the ship.

"All right, princess," he said, once he had her settled as best he could. "Daddy's got some work to do, but I'm right here, okay?"

She just yawned.

He grinned, kissed her forehead very, very softly, and climbed into the engines to start rewiring them.

He spent the day like that, working on the ship, taking breaks whenever Leia needed something, until the chrono on the wall beeped, and he realized how late it was. Any minute now, one of the Kallidahin would show up and "gently suggest" that he eat something, get some rest.

And maybe they're not wrong, he decided. Not because he was dizzy or anything-he was long past that stage of things. Still, he decided to stay in the hangar for a few minutes, even risking being fussed over, and just hold Leia and think through the rest of his repairs.

"Another week, I think, princess," he told her. "Then we'll get out of here, and I'll be able to start making things right."

...would he, though?

His heart sank a little, as the problem struck him. Forget keeping track of Leia once she started moving around under her own power, what was he supposed to do with her when he was fighting? He sure as hell couldn't carry her with him. And everyone he knew was either just as busy, taking just as many risks as he was, or…

Don't. Don't go there. Not right now. Think about the problem you can solve, Anakin, not the dead.

Leia made an inquisitive noise.

"Just thinking," he said, rocking her a little to soothe her. "Don't worry, Daddy will figure something out. We'll be okay."

What about Ahsoka? I think she's still...she wasn't a Jedi anymore, right? So, she should still be...she should still be okay. And she likes babies. She even liked that kriffing Huttlet. But I don't know where she is, or how long it'll take to find her, or what she's doing now, and…

He could leave her here, maybe. Base himself off the asteroid, at least until Leia was old enough that keeping her with him wouldn't be such a terrible idea.

Except-no, he couldn't do that. There was a chance, however slim, that he could be tracked back here, which might lead the Chancellor back to Bail, which might lead him to Padmẻ and Luke. Bad enough that Obi-Wan kept coming back and forth; if he did, too, someone would notice eventually.

"So, that's too risky," he said.

Leia blinked at him and sighed.

"Hey, I told you, I'll think of something. I'm pretty good at this. I think. Eventually. It just takes me a while."

She made another little noise, then closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep.

He leaned back against the wall with a sigh of his own, trying to come up with something- anything -else.

I could ask Bail or Obi-Wan for suggestions, I guess. But I don't want them to think I think I can't take care of her. I can, just not while I'm fighting. That's the only problem. I just need somewhere safe for her to stay when she can't be with me.

Besides, like he kept reminding himself, he couldn't keep dumping his problems on Obi-Wan, hoping his master would solve them. Obi-Wan had his own problems. So did Bail.

There wasn't anyone else. He didn't know anyone else, not who was still alive. Not who had any clue what to do with an infant.

Except-

Wait.

He closed his eyes, trying to see if there was another answer- any other answer.

He kept coming back to the same thought.

I have a stepfather who raised a baby once.

It would mean going back home, back to Tatooine, which was the last thing-the very last thing-he wanted for his daughter. And Tatooine wasn't safe. There were storms, and heat, and Sand People -

He shut down that guilt spiral as fast as he could, and checked to make sure his distress, his ghosts, hadn't woken her up.

She slept on. Good.

"But the Chancellor knows how I feel about it," he said. "So he'd never-he'd never look for us there. And my...and Owen's a good man, even if I don't think he likes me very much. And Mom…" His voice broke a little. "Mom loved them. Mom found them. She trusted them. So I guess...I guess I can, too."

It was an answer. It was even a good answer. He just didn't like it.

But he didn't have a better one.

"Okay," he said. "Okay, princess. Unless Daddy finds a better answer before then...once the ship is fixed, we're going home."