The Long Road Back

Chapter Eighteen: New Journey

~~~~~~~~~~

The building was familiar only in that Anakin vaguely remembered Vader buying it and taking malicious pleasure in offering less to undercut Palaptine's bid on the building. He'd then claimed he'd no idea his Master was bidding as well. As a consequence, Vader had been left kneeling for three hours while Palpatine raged about that infraction. However, when the entire security system needed upgrading along with other repairs, Palpatine had told him 'better you than me'.

Anakin toured the building. In honor of having disposed of Vader, he was being gifted with one of Vader's buildings and pressed to accept an income as well. Quite generous when he'd expected nothing. He'd tried to get them to give the income to Padmé. Instead, they'd offered her one as well. Padmé had been surprised and accepted it for a short term only. Obi-Wan had outright declined, claiming Dormé's personal wealth would suffice. It seemed that her father had left her a sizable monetary estate. Not only that, but she had saved her wages over the years. They had no need of extra.

This building would do, he decided. It was in a prestigious area of Coruscant and the rents would be a substantial sum, more than enough for his and Padmé's needs. Once the rents began to build a bit -- the actual income part of them -- he'd decline the income offer and live solely from the rents. The top floor of the building was split into two apartments he remembered, both empty because Vader had claimed landlord privilege. Not that Vader ever lived in the building. It had been an investment, his first real venture into real estate. After this building, Vader had become bolder, buying up properties as fast as they came on the market until realtors came to him with new offerings as often as they went to Palpatine. Vader had amassed one-eighth of Coruscant into his ownership in months.

Those two apartments would be perfect for him and Padmé.

The elevator opened into a hall with a door to the left, a door to the right and a wide window across from it. The hall was undecorated. The rooms of the apartments were airy, with lots of light, a common verandah and shared landing pad. He thought Padmé would like it.

As it turned out, she did, setting herself immediately to the task of decorating the two spaces. Her only restriction on his space was the need for warm toned colors, as such shades were uplifting and good for his moods. She used furniture with simple lines paired with sumptuous fabrics, pieces of artwork here and there and had architectural detail added to the rooms. The end result was all he could have wished for.

Did Padmé have a new calling as an interior designer? He thought so.

She used lighter versions of the shades in his apartment for hers, so that anyone walking from one to another would find the spaces blended together. There were mild echoes of her Senatorial apartment, but these rooms here were all her. There was no need to impress anyone with the decorating, just her personal tastes.

It reminded him of her parent's home. Padmé, he realized, was very much like her mother. When he made a comment of that, she'd paused, looked around, then laughed, obviously delighted by the comparison. Within the week, they were both set up in well-appointed rooms. It never ceased to amaze him what wealth could accomplish.

Padmé began to shop for clothing, spurred on by Dormé's own race to amass replacements for everything that had been lost in the torching of the house on Tatooine.

Anakin walked across the verandah and waited for Padmé to ask him inside the apartment. She'd told him repeatedly he didn't have to wait, to just walk inside, but he persisted in the polite query each time. She called to him and inside, he saw she was in relaxed clothing today, a loose blue robe with pretty designs around the neckline, and her hair was unbound. Padmé was sitting on the divan, piles of fabric swatches laid out on the table in front of her. He sensed hesitation and sadness, the same things he'd sensed from her all week.

Several times the past week, he'd thought she was going to say something, but she never had, remaining silent instead, the feelings he sensed remaining. He'd known they needed to talk in-depth and put it off, going over and over what he needed to tell her.

She patted the divan beside her, barely glancing up from the swatches. "I can't decide on the fabric. I like the blue, but the purple is just as pretty."

"Get them both." He liked the shades she'd indicated and made a mental note to order a couple more tunics in matching shades from Lanis.

"You think so?"

"Sure." He watched her for a minute, then reached out and took her hand in his. "Padmé, we need to talk." He thought he was finally ready to tell her all of it.

She stilled, swallowing hard. Her hand trembled in his. When her voice came, it was low and quivered. "You're dying aren't you?"

Her words stunned him for a couple seconds. Dying? "What? You think"

"Just tell me, Anakin." She turned to face him, her face a mask of sorrow. "I can take the truth. Tell me how much time you have left."

How did she come to that conclusion? He didn't recall saying anything that would support it. "I'm not--"

"You don't want to see our children, you've been holding me at arms length the past week. I understand --"

"No, you don't." He raised his other hand, stilled her words with fingers drawn in gentle swoops across her lips. "Hush a moment. I'm not dying, Padmé. Where did you get that idea?"

She blinked, turning her face so that his hand cradled her cheek. "Your doctor said he was a doctor for the mind. The mind is the brain. You needed him there, so I." Padmé glanced at her lap. "It made sense, though. Obi-Wan told me I was being ridiculous, but he refused to explain."

"I'm not dying. Put that from your mind. I ceased dying the day." He stopped. How to explain this to her so she'd really understand? Inspiration hit him and he snatched up two of the fabric samples she'd been looking at. One dark, one light. He laid the light one on top of the dark. "Okay, I'll start here."

Padmé cocked her head, frowning.

"This is me."

Her gaze dropped to the fabric and back up. "The fabric is you?"

"Yes. The light is me and the dark is Vader. For years this was us, Vader inside and me outside. But then," he slid the dark out, overlapping the light, "he got stronger. I let him grow and help me cope with situations and he pushed me behind him, covered me over."

She nodded slowly. "Uh-huh. He covered...you."

Anakin slid the dark over the light completely. "This is how it was with Vader in control, Padmé. I was there, but I wasn't there. Now, I began to reemerge." He set the swatches side by side. "I had to wrestle with him for awhile, but I took control back." The light was back on top and Padmé had a slightly glazed, uncomprehending expression in her eyes. Had he forgotten something? Anakin thought over what he'd just said. No, he'd mentioned everything....

"Anakin, what are you talking about? What does this...illustration," she motioned to the fabric, confusion in her voice, "have to do with not dying? And Vader in control....?" Her brows raised.

Oh yeah. He had forgotten something important. He sighed, running a thumb over the soft velvety fabric in his hand. It was so embarrassing to say out loud. "I have two personalities. Vader is the second personality. I'm the core, the original, personality. My doctor thinks that Vader was always there, but didn't really being growing until my mom died. The stress and then the added stress there at the end.... And the dark side, twisting, becoming one with us, blurring the edges."

"Oh." She set the swatches with the rest and shrugged. "Why the big long explanation? Why not simply say it?"

"Because it's embarrassing." His voice came out very small and nearly a whisper. Anakin's heartbeat was a hard pounding in his chest. "I wasn't strong enough to keep him inside. I let him out and he hurt so many people, including you."

"You let him? You weren't strong enough? Ani, listen to yourself. I may not know much about the condition, but I do know it's not something you could have controlled. Events out of your control put stress upon you that contributed, right? It's nothing to be ashamed of! It's a medical condition."

"It's not only a medical condition. Maybe it would have been if I wasn't strong in the force. Sonas thinks the dark side complicated matters in several ways. What should have been diagnosed and treated ended up swallowing me whole, taking over everyone and everything around me." Now he returned his gaze to her. Padmé was not frightened or disgusted. She wasn't looking at him any differently with this new knowledge. The realization calmed his racing heartbeat. "I need your support in my treatment."

"Of course."

"It won't be easy. We're going to try reintegration, which means Vader and I will be forced back into one personality. Doc says the process could be years in the going."

Padmé grasped his hands in hers. "You're my husband, Anakin. I'll support you."

~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a mistake not to talk with him immediately. She'd spent so long the past week agonizing and wondering and worrying about talking to him that if she'd just cornered him this would have been settled. Stupid. She'd been stupid, fearing he'd validate her conclusion. Padmé's lips twisted with disgust at herself as she dressed to go with Anakin to his appointment. Let that be a lesson to her. Next time there'd be no worrying, or agonizing, or putting off the inevitable talks. Just sit down and do it. She should have learned that long ago.

Anakin wanted her to go with him to his appointment and spend some time getting to know Sonas before the group meeting. So far, she didn't have a good opinion of the man. Pompous, arrogant, condescending, although she would allow that he seemed competent enough. He'd managed to settle into a diagnosis and treatment and Anakin liked him.

She settled on an up-do for her hair, snatched up her shawl and headed across the verandah to Anakin's apartment. He greeted her, wearing the most colorful outfit she'd seen on him yet. He wore a green she was certain was supposed to be 'spring green' but missed it by being far too loud for that shade. Padmé smothered a wince and was amused when he insisted she take his arm the way Ben and Dormé did.

An hour later, her opinion of Sonas had deepened to include intense dislike. Maintain separate residences? Take the relationship slowly, as if not married? Don't rush matters and most of all: no unapproved therapy techniques or meetings. He'd looked at her with a steady stare, like he knew her plans for Anakin to meet their children.

As if she'd compromise his recovery.

Where had Sonas gotten such an absurd idea? Really. She had, after all, been writing letters to Anakin long before Anakin had begun seeing the man. She'd helped him in his initial recovery. To think that she'd sabotage it and have Vader tripping about was ridiculous. Vader was a psychopath. She'd much rather have Anakin.

Irritated far beyond belief, she muttered under her breath all the way back to their building, ignoring the amused glances Anakin kept giving her. His amusement only irritated her more and by the time they reached the hallway between their doors, she'd had enough.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Maintain separate residences," Padmé grumbled for the hundredth time since leaving the office. She made a miffed noise low in her throat, then another, only louder.

"Relax. The entire floor is ours. You said yourself they're like one apartment."

"But they're not, Anakin. They're two. Two apartments and he acts like we're some young, irresponsible couple who doesn't know each other at all, when in reality we're several years married."

She'd been muttering under her breath all the way home, working herself into a state of temper. It wascute. Anakin winced a little at the thought. She'd hate to hear him call her fit of temper 'cute'. Privately, he thought she wasn't so much upset by Doc's restrictions and suggestions as she was by the idea that she couldn't argue with him and win. He'd not been moved by any of her arguments, though Anakin himself had been impressed by a couple of them. In the end, Doc had reiterated that his orders were for Anakin's best, that they as a couple had far too many issues to work through before moving in together would be a remotely good idea.

She opened her door, sighed and crossed her arms. Uh-oh. Defensive posture. That wasn't good. "You agree with him." It wasn't a question.

Slowly, he nodded. "I do. See, I've learned how to apply all those anger management techniques and such to imperial life as a single man, but I need to learn to apply them to us and having friends again. If I jump in to us, I tempt Vader and I don't want to hurt you again."

The irritation reflected on her features melted away into nothingness. Leaning against the wall, she replied, "I wish things could be like they were in the beginning of us."

Anakin shook his head. "No, you don't."

"Why not?"

"Because that would mean I haven't changed and you don't want that, Padmé. It would mean that Vader is always a heartbeat beneath my surface and that I will forever be the impetuous angry youth I was. If you want that, then you'll be disappointed in the man I've become."

She tilted her head and unfolded her arms, moving the fabric of her shawl about restlessly. "You're so serious, Ani. I meant our love. The fire of it, the passion and those days when we had no real worries."

He laughed softly. "Oh, we had worries, we just didn't face them like we should have. I know what you mean though. Picnicking in meadows, frolicking about." He stepped backwards until he was at his own door. "I'm going to woo you, milady, and this time.... This time we'll know each other well." He left her there, closing his door behind him.

Anakin leaned against it and smiled. Did he ever have plans to woo her!

Operation court Padmé, phase one, would begin in the morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For some reason, Anakin's pronouncement sent heat flooding her body and Padmé fanned herself with one hand. So he planned on wooing her, did he? Well, she needed a certain wardrobe for that.

"Oh," she whispered, hand touching her mouth and then laying flat on her chest a moment. "I have to shop."

She couldn't be courted in the clothes she had. Such an occasion called for romantic clothes -- the better to seduce her husband with. Padmé contacted Dormé and found her friend eager to shop, even if she was exhausted and running on an hour of sleep. They left the still unnamed baby with Ben and made an afternoon and evening of it.

Her aching feet and growling stomach when they were done were worth it. The pretties she had in these bags would show Anakin just how willing she was to be wooed.

~~~~~~~~~~

Obi-Wan contemplated his son's sodden bottom with a long sigh. Dormé had hurried out the door before he could ask her to change it. She disliked changing diapers as much as he did. They had a system going now for turns. However, Dormé foisted the chore off onto him as often as she could. Obi-Wan didn't begrudge her that. After all, she did have to feed the boy. She'd recently dubbed herself the 'baby chow factory'.

"You do realize that most parents name their children in the birthing room, right Obi-Wan?"

Turning his head, he noticed Qui-Gon leaning against the wall beside him, his arms crossed. He was smiling affectionately at the sight of Obi-Wan with the baby. Obi-Wan returned his attention to his son, only to notice the boy had wet the table in the short moment he'd turned his glance elsewhere. Quickly, he diapered him, set him in his carrier and cleaned up the mess. "We're having a slight amount of trouble deciding upon a name we both like."

"Choose one. You can always use a nickname for him that is completely unrelated to his real name. Problem solved. This is not difficult. You've had months already to decide."

As if choosing was easy. Qui-Gon had surely observed enough of Dormé to realize that arguing with her was an event that could take days. "Have you ever tried to name a child?"

Qui-Gon's smile turned enigmatic, hinting towards things Obi-Wan didn't know about him and likely never would. Intriguing. "Perhaps."

He raised his brows, hoping for clarification of that answer, yet was unsurprised when he received none. "We'll name him one of these days."

"Before his first birthday, I trust?"

Obi-Wan picked up his son and went to find one of the bottles Dormé had left. When Padmé had contacted her, she'd hurried to be ready to leave, gleeful to be with an adult aside from him. Qui-Gon followed.

"How is Anakin these days?"

"You could easily see him for yourself." In seconds he had the bottle ready and was settling on the couch to feed the boy. When Qui-Gon didn't answer immediately, Obi-Wan looked up. He found Qui-Gon troubled, his brow furrowed and all humor gone. "What?"

"I have seen him." He sat, sighed. "Has he told you he has nightmares? I was there last night. He woke gasping, trying to scream. He saw me and did scream. I didn't stay to reassure him."

"What troubles you about that?"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "It's not the nightmares or him seeing me that troubles me, Obi-Wan. It's the fear I sensed in him. Anakin still has a tremendous amount of fear inside him and fear, as you know, is a conduit of the dark side."

Their conversation stalled, then turned to lighter topics, but the words stayed with Obi-Wan. He fervently hoped they were not an omen of things to come.