Million Reasons

Behind closed eyes Anakin had rooted himself in a dream. He was wrapped in cotton and silk and the idea of the earth falling was a myth. He looked up and saw clouds pursuing the sun like an eclipse until the entire sky was painted black. His eyes grew accustomed to the darkness and he felt the ground beneath him begin to crumble. He was running out of solid ground, somewhere he could hold himself high. He was no longer wrapped in cotton and silk but in fog and chased by a tunnel of black sea. The sea turned red like fire and burned like it, too. The sounds of rocks and waves breaking, unrolling and growling, pounded in his head like an intruder.

But he woke up. And what actually pounded in his head was Ventress arriving into the office and gasping at the surprise of him.

"Anakin! What are you doing here?"

Anakin lifted his head from his desk. Fatigue marked his face with purple shadows under his eyes. His cotton shirt was opened at the throat and he was coughing, coughing up his greed of last night's alcohol and cigarettes. A change of clothes and three bottles were scattered on the floor along with an ashtray, a pillow, and a blanket.

"Have you been here all weekend?" She took her key out of her little handbag and handed it to him. "Here. You can stay at my place. Go freshen up."

He rejected her with a hand gesture and got up with his inexorable defiance. She would never separate him from the threads he had woven together about this company. He would accommodate for none of their lies, pretenses – let alone encourage them or the woman who sold him out to get back at an old boss. "I don't want anything from you."

Then he saw Mon Mothma passing in the grey hallway. The acoustics were great for a revolt. He had no manners just complexities constellating as he rushed out to her.

"Mon. I know you've been to see her."

Mon was clearly uncomfortable. She had her work face on. Never a step or hair out of place. "Anakin, I'm quite busy now." She had files nestled in her crossed arms and tried to move away but he was pushy and intimidated her with his height.

"Just tell me how they're doing." He insisted with hurried breaths, begging her to respond. "I just want to know that she's alright."

Mom acquiesced. Maybe it was his sincerity or his desperation. Maybe both. "She's fine. They're all fine. Her parents flew in for the weekend. She's considering moving back to Naboo so her family can help out with the twins... She's not alone. I'm going over later today."

Anakin nodded with appreciation, even if he could not look her in the eye. When he returned to the office, it was obvious Ventress had been eavesdropping.

"You want to help me?" He closed the door behind him. "Tell me where my car's been sent to."

You're giving me a million reasons to let you go

If I had a highway, I would run for the hills

Head stuck in a cycle, I look off and I stare

It's like that I've stopped breathing, but completely aware

And if you say something that you might even mean

It's hard to even fathom which parts I should believe

'Cause you're giving me a million reasons

About a million reasons

The elevator in his building opened, facing their apartment. Anakin saw a ray of light in the thin space underneath the door, indicating that Padme was home. At first, he felt happiness. Then, fear and awkwardness. Ripples of irony permeated his body. He wanted to see her but dreaded the conversation. He briefly considered slipping a note under the door and leaving the white plastic bags he carried outside on the welcome mat.

He knocked the most uncommitted knock. He was afraid to be gazed at with her critical eye, but when she opened the door, she was calm, modest. She had things to talk about too. She wanted to let him know about her move to Naboo.

"Can I come in?" He asked.

Padme moved aside, a subtle invitation – as uncommitted as his knock on the door. He placed his two big grocery bags on the kitchen island before going to kiss the twins in the bedroom. Luke and Leia's faces lit up with grins of playfulness inherited from their father. It moved Padme to watch Anakin with them. It would probably always move her.

Anakin returned to the living room and could see she had been packing. The whole apartment was a box of savings. It should've been an alliance tied with ribbons of laughter and awakened love full of activity and humor. But instead there were bitter memories, missed opportunities, and unfulfilled dreams lying about. Flippantly forgotten.

The curtains were open and he could see the skyscrapers twinkling with a million windows like the eyes of Coruscant watching their failures.

Crunching plastic sounded out from under his palm as he patted one of the shopping bags. "You got diapers in here. Should be enough for a while. Definitely enough 'til you're off to Naboo."

He knows. Of course he knows. She could chuckle at his inner detective-ness, probably driven by paranoia.

"New bottles... incase one breaks or. . .gets lost. Uh..." He took a moment to sigh his emotion out and cleared his throat. His hand moved to the other bag. "There's some groceries in here. I got some more of those muffins you like. This stuff should keep you going. And..." He took out his credit card and slapped it on the counter. "I've still got quite a bit of savings so you won't need to rush to work. You've pretty much got access to everything."

Padme's gaze of intrigue was fixed on the shopping bags resting on her island like two melting icebergs, then shifted to Anakin, who did a good job at concealing his restive and hyperactive self. His motivations were unclear to her. Of all his sudden actions, this was his most sturdy. Before she could figure him out, he went off again.

"Oh and here." His car keys joined the items on the counter, too. "Artoo's all yours. I've put in car seats for the twins. You can have it shipped over... Or sell it." He finished, standing awkwardly.

It was his last chance to look at her closely. The brown eyes of tolerance and tenderness that used to tame him when his caprice and spontaneity needed an anchor. The full lips that kissed him, breathing into him something magical when he was careless. Her silky hair that inspired a smooth motion of his fingers. He would memorize all of it. Her timelessness.

In her bewilderment, Padme observed him, too. Her legs were stiff but she still felt she could trip over her own floor. Somehow she was dislocated, lost, and he gave no direction. His leadership was misleading. He did not pay attention to her stare. He did what he came to do.

"What's going on?" Padme's brows furrowed. "Where are you going to go?"

He hung his head so she could not look into his eyes directly. He would not cry. He would appear strong like a rock in the roaring sea he saw in his nightmares that broke his world.

Anakin may have sounded like he had arranged everything but to himself he felt transparent. He imagined his face was cellophane, wrapped tightly around all the phrases he had clipped together on a board. It revealed how hard it was to say everything he was supposed to say.

"I'm gonna turn myself in. It seems it's only a matter of time until I'm caught... Don't wanna drag you guys down running away from it."

It was final. The desecration of 'them', of summer nights, of romantic wanderings and admirations, of rituals of pleasure and amorousness. For two years, he had saved her from a serious world brimming with mundane paths and unsatisfying expectations.

He offered retorts, instincts of rebellion, and an ability to create and invent new details of life. However brief, they had shared a life so fantastically magical. That even though they now remain the loss of each other's lives, they were once loved, their souls reborn, and they made beautiful babies. They had embroidered their world with all the things that could not be found elsewhere. Fantasy, freedom, fireworks.

On his way to the door, he turned thoughtfully and spoke gently. "When they get older, and they ask about me. . .please tell them I loved them, that I didn't abandon them. I don't want them to hate me like I did my old man."

Her head and heart throbbed with the weight of his humiliations.

They could never hate him. She wouldn't let them. He could tell by the soft glow of promise in her eyes. His mouth curled upward slightly with gratitude and he opened the front door to leave.

"Anakin."

With his hand on the doorknob, he halted at the sound of her voice. Memories unfolded, a symphony of talks, ideas, hopes – all in one angelic calling of his name.

"Who else knows?" Padme asked. "Who else knows what you did?"

I bow down to pray

I try to make the worst seem better

Lord, show me the way

Every heartbreak makes it hard to keep the faith

But baby, I just need one good one

I've got a hundred million reasons to walk away

But baby, I just need one good one to stay

Million Reasons - Lady Gaga