Mutual Feelings

A terrible vision of what may come

When Anakin finally crept into the bedroom rather pointedly set aside by Padmé for him and Ahsoka, he found that his padawan was curled up in bed, knees pressed to her chest, looking almost indescribably cute. He couldn't help reaching out, and just running a tender finger down the nearest surface of her right montral.

When she didn't stir, almost as a precaution, he checked her breathing. It was fine, of course. Smiling, he removed his tunic, clambering into the clean pyjamas that he'd accidentally left behind, and that Padmé had kept for him. Then, once he was dressed. he clambered into the bed, taking possession of his share of the covers, and went to sleep, feeling Ahsoka once again snuggle next to him.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

With a gasp, Anakin jerked upright, staring straight ahead, and seeing the door to the main apartment. It wasn't what he was focused on. A series of scenes were practically embedded into his mind forever.

Ahsoka being torn away from him, by overly protective council members, against both of their protestations.

Him holding a lightsaber to this Chancellor's throat. Words he couldn't hear were exchanged, and he stepped away, deactivating the weapon.

His hand removing the lightsaber hand of Mace Windu, and the man being launched out of a window by a burst of Force lightning from a hooded figure slumped on the floor.

A blue lightsaber he recognised as his own slashing down, aiming for the head of one of the members of the Bear Clan, who was looking up at his face, wide eyed and looking utterly betrayed.

Padmé standing before a hooded figure, dressed in black robes, hands clutching at her throat, her mouth forming... His name.

Obi-wan, lightsaber drawn, overlooking a river of molten rock. "Don't try it, Anakin." He said. "I have the high ground." He ignored the warning. Obi-Wan's lightsaber flashed as he jumped towards the Jedi master, amputating both of his legs below the knee, and his remaining organic arm at the elbow, before he rolled down the slope, almost into the lava river, leaving him almost bathed in the lava, his skin igniting from the heat.

Padmé, screaming in agony. He knew she was dying. He knew that if that future came to pass, it would be his fault.

He didn't know how many of those scenes he could prevent.

He just knew he had to try and prevent all of them.

Whatever it took. Whatever.

Then he had catapulted into consciousness, a cold sweat covering his torso.

Beside him, Ahsoka was still asleep, curled up and resting on her left side, thumb pressed against the corner of her mouth.

Gently, Anakin leant over, and kissed her, pressing his lips against her right montral. She stirred slightly, but stayed asleep.

He envied her that luxury. His odds of sleeping again were so close to zero as made no difference.

Padmé came stumbling out of her bedroom perhaps an hour later to find Anakin sitting on the sofa, a steaming mug of caf in front of him, and watching a intersystem boloball match between Commemor and Alisandor.

"I didn't know you followed boloball." She said, sitting down next to him, slightly overflowing within her nightgown, something Anakin noticed, but had no interest in exploring, even if she was going to be the mother of both of his fully human children.

"I don't." He replied, staring at a passage of play. "There isn't any Thugball on." Padmé had never quite seen the point of a sport where two teams, usually of humans or near-humans, ran at each other, carrying an oval ball that they were only allowed to pass backwards, thumping into each other with a great deal of enthusiasm.

"Oh." She said. "Is it Ahsoka?"

"No. I had a nightmare. Like I had about my mother. Before she died."

"Who?" Padmé asked, suddenly feeling very nervous.

"Both me and you. I saw myself turning to the dark side; killing you, then dying at the hands of Obi-Wan."

"What about Ahsoka?" Padmé asked.

"The dream didn't show her."

"Is it..."

"Not this time. Not if I can help it." Anakin grated, downing a third of his caf in one go.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Three hours later, Ahsoka wandered through in her underwear, consisting largely of layers of thin, lacy fabric, thoroughly inappropriate for a Jedi Padawan to own or wear, to find her master slumped in front of his datapad, with lots of information about force visions on multiple screens around him.

"Master?" She asked, gently shaking his shoulder.

"Everything is going to be all right, Snips." He said. "The council have summoned us both. Most of the members are on Coruscant at the moment."

Ahsoka looked down at him, and her eyes widened slightly.

"Much as I like you dressed that way, I'm not sure that appearing before the council in your underwear is going to give the right impression." He said, jokingly. "Go and get dressed, Padawan."

Ahsoka almost scampered away. He could hear her making excited noises as she scrambled into her robes, wearing a pair this time that had not survived more or less unpowered re-entry from orbit. It was something that left him feeling considerably more contented than usual.

Now all he had to do was to unravel those visions, and make sure that he was going to have something to live for. Whatever it took.