The Long Road Back

Chapter Eleven: Mistakes

~~~~~~~~~~

Obi-Wan watched his wife sob and wished he wasn't having the urge to apologize for laying down the law. He hated it when she cried. First, her lower lip would quiver, the first of many tears slipping from her eyes. If not comforted soon after the quivering began, she'd emit sharp, barking sobs he'd swear were super-sonic. Her shoulders would shake and the gulping would start up, long indrawn gasps that indicated she was trying to stop and couldn't. Then, the wails would commence, her face going red and eyes bloodshot.

He'd like to say she cried prettily, but that honestly wasn't the case. Dormé was a mess when she really cried. Once the crying was over, her head would hurt, she'd have hiccups, and would sniffle for two or three hours. He was very glad he'd only witnessed four of these crying jags total and two of those had been since she'd become pregnant.

"Crying will not make me change my mind," he said, which by her hurt stare was apparently the worst thing he could have said.

Maybe there was a reason the Jedi had forbidden this....

"Your purchases haven't been logical, Dormé. Most of them weren't things we needed even."

She pointed to the baby's room.

"Well, most of those were, but really, why have you been buying dresses? We're having a boy. Boys don't usually wear dresses." Although he could recall one incident where Anakin had donned a particularly frilly ballgown and long wig on an assignment. Frowning, he crossed his arms. "I will admit that the clothes shopping did not bother me. What did bother me were the yards of velvet and silk that you kept storing in the oddest places and the craft tools mixed in with the kitchen tools. Not to mention the sort of crafts you claim to be taking up. Dormé, my love, I don't believe you're taking up woodworking and that half finished cradle you bought does not convince me you're taking it up. Why? Because you won't have it finished anytime soon even if you were actively working on it."

"Next time," she mumbled, her sobs tapering off before slipping into full out wails.

"Next time?" Obi-Wan suppressed a sigh. She hadn't even birthed the first baby and she was planning more? "No. We will go through each and every recent purchase together and sell what we don't need. Dormé," Going to her, he knelt and took her hands in his. "We have to think of the baby and the future. That means we need to keep finances in mind. You can still make purchases, but we can't be spending funds as though there's no tomorrow."

She nodded. "I know. I do, but..." Her teeth grazed her lower lip. "Can I keep the velvet at least? I'd like to make something for Padmé. She hasn't had a really nice cape since her funeral...." Dormé broke off with a laugh. "That didn't come out right."

He knew what she meant though, and was glad to see her tears were passed. Padmé would probably like to receive a present. "The velvet is fine."

"Can I keep the silk too?"

"What's it for," he countered.

Dormé glanced around the room, obviously trying to think up a suitable project and finally said, "A nightgown!"

"You have a trunk filled with nightgowns. I hardly think you need another."

"Not for me. For Beru. Yeah, for Beru. She doesn't have many luxuries and I thought--"

Rather than argue, Obi-Wan decided to let her keep the silk. Why not? It folded up into a tiny pile anyway. It wasn't like the rest of her purchases, spilling out into the living area. "Fine. We'll keep the silk and the velvet, but the rest will be gone through."

The rest of the evening was spent looking through the purchases.

~~~~~~~~~~

He was fighting Obi-Wan again, only this time it was not on Mustafar. Anakin's breath labored in his chest, but he could not free himself from the pull of the dream. He'd rather dream of Padmé!

There she was suddenly, still and silent, a crumpled heap on the ground. Anakin heard Palpatine's cackling somewhere to his left, twirled and caught a glimpse of himself reflected in the window. Outside he could see stars and inside was a mix of his old self and the current. He was scarred, not deformed, his hair very short and his clothes like what he'd worn as a Jedi. Similar. He couldn't figure out what was different about the clothes.

Obi-Wan was the same. Same clothes, hair and beard. Except....There was a change in his old Master as well, also something he couldn't identify.

His gaze continued to the left of the reflection, catching a glimpse of a robed kneeling figure near Padmé. Who was that? It wasn't Palpatine. Instinctively, Anakin knew the figure to be female. He felt fear and a helpless anger from her.

Obi-Wan pressed forward, then retreated, distrust radiating from him and a curious feeling of...hope? "Death will come, you know that," he said through clenched teeth and Anakin heard his own voice answering, his real voice, from before Mustafar.

"Then it comes. I don't fear the end, Obi-Wan. I embrace it, whatever it may be. I must do this."

His former friend and Master leapt back, lightsaber tossed upward. Anakin called it to him, snatched it from the air and with the two blades in hand, continued forward. He slashed and --

--woke gasping and shaking. In seconds, he had the lights on and was sitting up, arms clasped about his knees. He rocked, stared at his feet and rocked a bit more, until his heart stopped the horrific fast pounding.

You wouldn't have to endure such dreams if you'd let me out, Anakin. Why are you being so stubborn? Don't you remember all I did for us? We're a team, the two of us.

Obi-Wan and I were a team, Vader.

Yes and Obi-Wan betrayed us, didn't he? So much for teamwork.

You're a part of my mind, nothing more. You're a separate personality.

There was a chuckle. Doc Sonas has you believing that, does he? I'm you, Anakin. We're one.

Perhaps, he told the voice in his mind. But I remember a time when I could barely hear your voice. If you're me, how could that be? Your voice would be my voice and it's not. Your voice has always sounded different. Explain that.

Silence and then, Have it your way. Just remember that while you can drug me into silence with that anxiety medication, ignore my voice and will me to be gone, I will never fully leave you. Like it or not, I am part of you and I will take my chance to rise when it occurs.

Then I'll give you no chances.

We'll see.

Vader slipped back again, leaving Anakin with a sense of finally being alone and alone he wondered how long before Vader made a coup on their body. Which one of them would be the victor of that battle?

"I won't fear," he whispered. "My fear and anger gives him strength."

It was true, wasn't it? It was also true that the drug helped, somehow quieting Vader in the process of quieting Anakin's anxiety. Doc had adjusted the dosage, leaving Anakin a bit less mellow than he'd been and it was helping. He still had the thirst problem, but with the adjusted dosage, that had lessened as well and he thought he was beginning to become used to the water intake level.

To calm himself further, Anakin slipped from bed and began a series of stretches. His latest improvement had been to add synthskin to the arms and legs. The first time, after Dooku, he'd been at ease with that new arm, unbothered by the meld of machinery and flesh. Now, however, he wanted to distance himself from Vader and physically, Darth Vader was a huge cybernetic being, more machine than man. To distance himself and regain a sense of self, Anakin went with synthskin. It amazed him how real it could look. They'd matched his skin tone perfectly.

Palpatine didn't know about that yet. Anakin wondered if Palpatine would rage the way Vader had. Vader's protestations weren't logical. He'd approved of the other improvements for their body. The problem, Anakin thought, was that Vader wasn't liking sitting in the background doing nothing. He wanted to be out in Anakin's place, doing that Sith dance of loyalty and treachery with an eye for usurping Palpatine. He was impatient, wanting the physical process completed immediately. Not later, now!

Anakin was grateful Doc had gone to the appointment with him, spending the time keeping up conversation on the most inconsequential matters. The latest food offerings aboard ship, the mouse droid problem that seemed to be getting worse and things like that.

Bending, he looked at his toes, wiggled them. They looked like toes again. And his hands. They looked like hands. He looked whole once more.

I will be whole, he thought, finishing up and deciding he'd spend these early morning hours writing a letter to Norel. It was a surprise to find a letter waiting for him. The contents surprised him more.

~~~~~~~~~~

Vader still didn't know what had gone wrong. He'd examined the issue for hours at a time, cursing the tendency for his self to fall into sleep the same time Anakin did and railing at the new tendency for sluggishness in his thoughts. He had trouble thinking clearly and Anakin wasn't helping matters.

Insisting Obi-Wan had been a real friend. Thinking Padmé had behaved from love. Looking at this woman he'd been corresponding with and thinking he had a future with her. How did he even know it really was a woman? She could be a 'he' and wouldn't that be interesting when it was revealed? Anakin didn't understand what was really important, did he? He'd lost touch. He no longer remembered the way things were.

Anakin was stuck in the past. He kept doing all those stupid things his doctor insisted upon....

Vader shook his head. Damn it! He couldn't think!

I have to do something. I have to let my Master know what's happening before it's too late.

But why was he suddenly certain Palpatine wouldn't do anything to help him? Why did he fear that his time as Apprentice had come and gone and his days were now numbered?

Vader let the thoughts go and paced his prison once more.

~~~~~~~~~~

I'm going to meet her, I'm going to meet her, I'm going to meet her!

Anakin had trouble holding his excitement back. Norel had agreed to meet with him in person. She'd suggested the place, the time. The time was the next day. The place was a secluded resort on Naboo. She claimed the restaurant was famous in the area for food presentation and that the dining room had many private areas. Norel was making those arrangements. They'd meet in the late afternoon for an early dinner. She'd intimated in her letter that they'd be spending the night together.

His hands shook and for the fifth time in the past hour, he went through his luggage, making certain he had everything he could possibly need. He had clothes, toiletries, respirator and oxygen tank. All packed. Enhancement drug and protection -- just in case. He didn't want to disappoint her or end up with a surprise in a couple months if she meant what he thought she meant.

He'd had the latter and wasn't taking any chances. He could imagine Palpatine's reaction to such an occurrence and had no desire to be on the receiving end of Sith lightning. It didn't exactly mix well with a good portion of his body. Indeed, Palpatine seemed to have forgotten his idea that Anakin...no, Vader...had a paramour stashed away somewhere.

Would they really get personal though? She'd never seemed like the wild type in her letters and they were just meeting. He supposed she could mean they'd talk all night. Anakin paused in rearranging the contents of the case. How many ways could 'I predict we'll be awake until the early morning hours' be interpreted?

Boy, he sure hoped they were going to get personal!

Was she living on Naboo? Was that why she'd chosen the planet? Or was this resort simply a place she liked to visit? Something he'd have to find out. Shouldering his bag, he checked his appearance. It amazed him how many people didn't recognize the name Anakin Skywalker. He was back to using it for the most part, save when he was on the clock. On the clock, and for anything official, he still answered to Darth Vader.

Should he be surprised at not being recognized? No. He no longer looked as he had before Mustafar. Oh, he still considered himself a handsome man, just not what he'd been. The reconstruction had helped smooth some of the worst scars on his face, but the remaining ones lent a cragginess to his features that gave him a roguish air.

He ran a hand across his head. His hair was beginning to finally come in, though the scars gave it a patchy appearance if he let it grow too long. Doc had suggested keeping it shorn close to the head and Anakin agreed. He wasn't bald, but close to it. All in all, Anakin decided he looked good. It could have been far worse. In another reality, he might have even been stuck in that suit for the rest of his life.

With a nod, he left his quarters. His staff had their orders and he didn't want to be late to meet Norel.

~~~~~~~~~~

The resort was everything Padmé had read it was and more. Quiet and secluded, it was the perfect place to meet Anakin. There were few people around and they could have relative privacy for this reunion.

And if she'd made a mistake and Ani from the letters wasn't her Ani after all, she could bow out quickly.

Padmé returned to her room and stared out the window at the entrance. She smoothed her dress. It was one that Padmé had commissioned one of the women in the craft club to make for her. It was high-necked so as not to distract him, but now that she thought about the design, perhaps it hadn't been a good idea after all. The design was rather like the dress she'd worn the day he'd kissed her on the balcony.

For a moment, she contemplated changing, then shook her head. No, this dress would have to do. She didn't have another fancy enough for the restaurant and it was too late anyway. He was going to be here any time.

She'd already checked with the desk and he hadn't arrived yet. She clasped her hands together. When she'd written that they'd be up late, she'd thought that perhaps they could talk. Now, as she waited and remembered the letter, she wondered what he'd thought at that. Did he think they'd be spending the night together? Would he want to when he realized who Norel really was? After all, they were still husband and wife. They could....

What am I doing, she thought to herself. He's going to think he's seeing a ghost. He'll.... I can't do this. I can't meet him. I can't be here. I'm not ready.

One hand raised, covered her mouth as worries tripped about her mind in a dizzying whirl. The appointed hour came and before she could think anymore about her actions, Padmé left her room.

~~~~~~~~~~

The restaurant was shadowed and romantic. Anakin waited at the table. He'd been hoping she'd already be here, but she wasn't. He'd taken the chair facing the main door, though he had no idea what sort of woman he was looking for. She'd sent that description, but it rather applied to many women on Naboo. Petite and trim was the norm.

He sipped his drink. He felt Padmé in this place, which made sense in his mind as she'd loved the area. It didn't surprise him that he'd think he felt her here, a phantom lingering made real only by his mind. What surprised him was the intensity of that feeling. It was as though she was alive and had been in these rooms perhaps the day before.

Anakin sighed heavily. He should not be thinking of Padmé when he was meeting another woman for dinner. It was wrong and he suspected Norel might find it a tad on the creepy side if he even hinted he was still slightly hung up on his dead wife.

Dead wife, he reminded himself several times. Padmé is dead. I don't really feel her here. It's only my imagination.

Maybe this wasn't a good idea. Maybe he wasn't ready to start dating, like one of those doctors had told him. Maybe he should leave before she arrived and have a message waiting for her. They could always meet later.

~~~~~~~~~~

He looked good. Reconstruction had gone well, just as he'd said, and Padmé felt relief flood her body. He was still Anakin under the mask. The features were his. Ani from the letters was her Ani after all. She had not erred.

Tears trickled down her face and she whirled before he could see her standing there.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Sir?"

Anakin was torn from his doubting thoughts by the hostess.

She smiled. "I've a message from your companion."

Norel had a family emergency and was unable to make their plans. However, she'd still like to meet with him another day and would of course continue writing.

He accepted the message with...relief? Yes, that was it. Relief. Maybe the next time they should meet somewhere other than Naboo. Definitely, he decided. It was only Naboo that was making him think of Padmé. Meet Norel well away from here and he wouldn't have this strange sensation of guilt.

On his way back to his ship, Anakin pondered that sensation. It was bizarre and irrational, but he had the definite feeling that by meeting with Norel in person he was somehow cheating on Padmé. He decided he'd better make an emergency appointment with Doc as soon as he returned. He really was touched in the head if he thought having a date was cheating when his wife was long dead!