Let me know if you think Anakin is OOC. Folks, I am sorry for all the typos in the first upload. I tried dictating this from text to speech and I missed a number of spelling errors. It should be corrected now.
Anakin wakes slowly, coming in and out of darkness, the world is fuzzy, opaque, near and yet far. Removed from such reality, he floats in a dark lake, feeling the currents pull him to and fro beneath the surface. He hears the sound of a woman's cries, and a word that he swears is his name spoken by a voice that should not be. As he struggles to stay afloat within the expanse of himself, he senses a hand reaching out to pull him to the surface. In desperation, he seizes it. He clings and stays in the grasp of that hand, clutching it with deathly fervor.
He fades in and out again.
But when he comes to, the hand is solidified. Taking the shape of slight fingers flexing gracefully against his palm.
He is still alive. The thought floats to him with greater relief than he would have expected.
His strength is watery, slipping from his grasp. He can barely think, much less move. Instead, he simply exists. In and out he slips, gradually sound and light reach his mind. Sensation returning, but only in the form of a total throbbing ache that pounds with the beat of his heart. The hand that had pulled him from the waters is still there, anchoring him to the shores of the living.
Eventually, he remembers how to open his eyes. And is met by a blaze of white that blinds him. Why is everything so white?
"...Pa-padm—?"
The fingers squeeze his servos with such aching gentleness.
"I'm right here, Anakin." Her voice is hoarse and rasping, tired. He barely recognizes it. She says it as if she has said it a hundred times already. For all he knows, she may have. He does not know how long it has been, but he thinks they have had this exchange before.
Slowly, his vision begins to clear, bringing her face gradually into focus. They are alone together in a white hospital suite.
"Hello, Ani..." She rasps with a watery smile.
Padmé's face is sallow, her lips cracked and bleeding. His heart lurches as his gaze settles on her sunken, bloodshot eyes. She looks as if she hasn't slept in days.
"... Wh-what's wrong? What h-happened?" His voice comes out soft and rough. They must have turned off the vocabulator.
At first, she doesn't answer. Merely staring back at him as though she is drinking in the sight.
"You woke up from surgery screaming for me. Screaming for your wife." She pauses to glance off into the hollow distance. "The base knows who you are now." She adds quietly. "Who we are." Somehow, he finds that this revelation does not bother him so much as it might once have.
"You were confused," she continues. "You must have thought—" she chokes up, then tries again after taking several breaths "—you must have thought you were somewhere else."
He understands the intimation, and the monitor's beeping increases as his heart-rate spikes. Oh, Force, had he hurt her?! He feels his eyes widen with alarm. A detail she must notice as she quickly moves to reassure him.
"You did not hurt me...or anyone else for that matter...other than yourself." He sees her jaw begin to tremble. "…You had nearly bled out before I got through to you."
That could not have been much better. He cannot even imagine the pain that sight must have inflicted; to see him torn apart, a raving lunatic.
Poor, sweet, brave woman…
"I never realized—" she tries and then stops as a sob bubbles to her lips. She lifts her other hand and begins to furiously wipe her welling tears away. And then another sob bubbles up in her throat. Her lip quivering as her eyes grow wet. She is fighting for composure, but it is a losing battle.
"Do not do that to me again, Anakin... You cannot keep doing this to me…!" It is only then that she begins to cry freely, a sight he has not seen since... Since Mustafar.
He strains to squeeze the fingers that remain within his grasp, to move, to do something, anything, to comfort her! But he is so damnably weak! Why is it that he is always so weak when she needs him most...?!
"I...am still h-here..." He grates feebly, as her tears continue to flow harder and faster.
His arm shivers and shakes as he tries and fails to lift his metal fingers to touch her dampened cheeks. She sobs harder, squeezing his hand once more.
"It's alright, save your strength." She admonishes, noticing the quivering attempt to move his arm as tears trickle over her bleeding lips.
What strength is there to save when he cannot even lift a hand to console her? Even the Force is thin and distant.
"Lie down with me..." He pleads at last, breathless and desperate to staunch the flow of her sobs. "Lie with me... So that... So that I can...h-hold you."
She looks up at him dubiously through dripping lashes.
"I'll hurt you..." She murmurs.
"N-not as much...as watching you...cry."
He sees her fragile resolve crumble.
"But I—"
"Please..." He rasps softly, so softly he barely hears his own voice.
Hesitantly, and with no small amount of timidity, Padmé delicately arranges herself beside him as if she is afraid to break him.
"Rest your...head on my sh-shoulder..." He cannot move to touch her, so she will have to move to touch him.
With undue gentleness, she presses against his sore and aching side and obediently lays her head softly on his bandaged shoulder. They are face to face as she watches him through wet eyes, looking up at him as if he contains the whole world. All he can think is that he does not deserve it. Does not deserve her.
"I just need you to be okay." She chokes.
Her sobs continue but gradually grow quieter and quieter until he senses her breathing softening and sees her eyes begin to flutter closed, her defenses dropping at last in the safety of his touch.
Still, to his dismay, she is fighting the drowsiness that is finally gaining ground, the sleep debt of the previous week finally coming due.
"It's okay, Padmé," he soothes, "I'm...here...you...can rest, now," the tug of unconsciousness is also pulling on his own aching eyelids, but he cannot sleep until she rests. Force knows, she needs it.
To his relief, her brown lashes flutter one more time, and then finally fall closed.
He waits until she begins to snore quietly, and it is only then he allows himself to slip back into his own delirious slumber.
I promised catharsis. I hope I delivered.