Redemption - A Star Wars Fanfic

Chapter 6

Pregnant. The word wasn't fully clicking in Anakin's mind. He had married Padmé young, and of course he had one day dreamed of having a child with her, but they had both been so distracted by the war to even think about risking something so big. Now here they were, a child blooming in her stomach and unintentionally putting a timer on the secrecy of their marriage. Padmé wouldn't be able to hide her enlarging stomach for long, even with her loose dresses, and eventually the truth would come out. Anger ripped through him as he imagined the inevitable scenario of the Jedi Order kicking him out and taking his saber and ranks, shaming him just as they had Ahsoka not too long ago...

No, he couldn't let his annoyance with the Jedi Code get the best of him. He would still fight for the Republic as long as he could, make sure his child would grow up in a war-free galaxy, and then move to Naboo with his wife to raise their child together in peace. They would be parents. The idea was so preposterous that he almost laughed aloud, his elation of becoming a father far outweighing all of his other emotions. He had to think of a name...maybe a girl after his mother, or a boy after Qui-Gon...

"Knight Skywalker?"

Anakin looked up to see Master Enric Osh's soft eyes looking down at him on the chair, not realizing that he had been in a daze. "Y-yes, sorry."

The Zabrak man smiled in faint amusement before gesturing over to the medcot where Luke was still lying still, yet far less pale than he had been when they had arrived. "Your friend is stable. I only prescribe rest for him now," he paused, tapping on a datapad that Anakin was pretty sure he hadn't been holding a second ago. "And I would prescribe the same for you as well."

Anakin blinked, confused. "But I'm fine."

Enric scoffed. "You and Master Kenobi have quite the reputation for ignoring injuries and ending up in medical anyway. Just a small nap should suffice; I can't imagine the war allows much time for that. Take advantage of it while you can." With that, he turned and left, his Padawan having disappeared as well.

Anakin sighed, rising to his feet and groaning at the creaking of his joints, his entire body sore. Maybe the healer had a point. He quickly popped his shoulders and then stepped towards Luke's cot in curiosity. His eyes riveted on the light rise and fall of the young man's chest and how at peace he looked in slumber. The more Anakin stared, the more his brow began to crease, the shape of his face almost reminiscent of someone he recognized, although he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He shook his head to dismiss the thought and focused back instead on what he should've been worrying about. Obi-Wan was no doubt still briefing the Council on their most recent mission, but it was only a matter of time before his old Master was contacting him wondering why he had left the Senate building without warning. Not only that, but he had left with the mysterious Starkiller boy in tow. Grumbling and not wanting to deal with another one of the older man's lectures, Anakin reached for his comm to contact Obi-Wan.

His hand was just barely brushing the device before the vital monitor beside Luke's cot suddenly spiked, its beeping growing louder and more agitated. Anakin stared at it in confusion, wondering what could be causing Luke such stress before the boy in question began to quiver violently. Then, all of a sudden, the still hands loose at Luke's sides tensed up and began gripping the sheets of the cot with a white-knuckled grip, the right hand seemingly gripping tight enough to rip the seams in the fabric, which was a strength abnormal for a natural human hand...

Luke began to thrash and moan, sweat beading down his forehead and plastering his dark blonde locks to his head. The only logical source of distress that Anakin could pinpoint was the effects of a nightmare, his own experiences with them giving him all the knowledge he needed about the kind of heavy mental strain they put on ones body. Padmé had once explained to him how violent he was when locked in the throes of a particularly bad nightmare, his entire body spasming as if possessed and his throat screaming itself hoarse. She never held back her honesty in how much it scared her to see it happen.