The queasiness you had been feeling in the ride to your apartment came back to hit you tenfold as Anakin parked the speeder outside of the Jedi Temple. He must have sensed your urgency, because he was practically running as he grabbed your bags from the back and then came around to help you out again.
You had to pause as soon as you stood up, hand tightening on the material covering his arm.
"Are you going to—"
"Gonna puke," you warned, devastated. The last thing you wanted to do was blow chunks in front of Anakin Skywalker, but it didn't seem like you were being given much of a choice at the moment.
"Now, or...?"
"Let's just hurry."
Without asking, Anakin swooped you right off your feet and then really began running. You couldn't even argue, just shivered and shrunk back into his arms, the temple halls flying by as your head pounded, stomach twisted, and mouth filled with saliva. You're not even sure what hallways he took or how to get to the room you were given because you were too busy squeezing your eyes closed, the blurring lights from the Temple only making your nausea worse.
Anakin kicked the door to your room closed and brought you straight to the bathroom. Your knees hit tile floor, hands found porcelain, and the contents of your stomach found the bottom of the toilet. It was one of the more violent bouts of sickness that you've had, probably because you'd been holding it back for a while.
You were too busy throwing up to notice that Anakin was still in the room, having dropped your bags outside the bathroom, and he was now kneeling beside your face and smoothing your hair behind your shoulders so you wouldn't get vomit in it. Not that it mattered much— your hair was already dirty from not having showered in a few days, and you already knew that was your next destination for the night.
Once you stopped throwing up, that is.
All that damned jello, you cursed Rico and Pinta for force feeding you earlier, because now it was coming back out with vigor. You gasped and clutched at the bowl of the toilet, barely having time to breathe between the purging of your stomach.
As soon as you got a break, you rested your head on your hands, folded on the cool lip of the toilet sheet. Your breathing was quick, skin pale and soaked in cold sweat. Anakin was still running his hands down your hair, rubbing your back silently as he watched you.
"Please leave," you tried to salvage any last shred of dignity that you could.
"No chance."
Your groan came out in a pathetic, broken whimper. Maker you felt like mother-fucking-shit. And of course he had to be here to witness it with fucking front row tickets.
"Why?"
"I have to make sure you don't die." You think he meant that to be a joke, but the way he said it all soft and soothing had your heart lurching again. This was possibly the worst time to be crushing over him.
"'M not gonna die."
"Very convincing," his hand started rubbing circles between your shoulder blades now, and honestly you weren't going to complain any longer. Somehow, the steady warmth and pressure of his hand took your mind off the uncomfortable churning of your stomach and made you feel a little better, which was surprising because you hated being touched in general, but when you were sick it was ten times worse.
You hadn't expected that you would accept it from even Anakin in your current state, much less like it.
"You feeling a little better?" He was murmuring now, almost cooing to you like a baby. "You want to go to bed?"
"Shower," you hadn't noticed that your eyes had slipped closed, and no matter how hard you tried you couldn't lift your head. The fact that you thought you could stand to take a shower was laughable.
"How about a bath," Anakin decided, and then stood to run the water. He was back at your side in a second, smoothing your bangs away from your sweaty forehead and you could practically feel his eyes absorbing your surely nasty-looking face.
Any chance you thought you might have had with him before, you passionately kissed it goodbye.
"You feel like you're gonna throw up again, or can we get rid of this?" Anakin asked gently, meaning the puke in the toilet you were currently still dangling your head in front of.
"I got it," you slapped the flush button and closed the lid, resting your head on the toilet seat lid now as you listened to the contents of your stomach gurgle down the pipes. "Fucking nasty," you muttered.
"Hey, this stuff happens," he tried to comfort your obviously wounded pride.
"Getting poisoned?"
"Getting sick."
Still gross, you argued in your head because you had no energy to say it out loud. Anakin noticed how limp you'd gone against the toilet and squeezed your shoulder lightly.
"Y/n." No response. "Y/n, you still with me?"
You could only grunt in reply. Your head was swimming, the dizziness causing your vision to double and your stomach to remain in a constant state of queasiness. It was your third day of this hell, and you were really beginning to think you were never going to get better.
"Should we scrap the idea of a bath and just get into bed?"
"No. 'M gross." You realized you were being difficult. "Just... jus' gimme a minute."
Once you worked up the courage to brave the pain and nausea you knew would follow moving any of your muscles, you slowly lifted your head and blinked at the bright lights. Anakin waved his hand in the air and they dimmed to a more tolerable orange glow.
You found it a little easier than you expected to unfold your legs from under you to sit on the floor normally with your legs straight in front of you. Looking from the tub being filled with water to your own clothed body, you wondered how this was going to work.
"Do you, uh... do you think you can get undressed yourself, or would you like some help?"
"Help, please," you couldn't deny his offer with how miserable you felt. You could barely lift your head at the moment, your arms were out of the question.
He shuffled so that he was on his knees next to you, and his hands found the bottom of your shirt. "Close your eyes," you warned him, and he did so without argument.
With his eyes closed and you hardly managing to lift your arms enough to help, he carefully eased your shirt off and over your head. The immediate relief of being freed from the sweaty constraint had you almost thinking the awkwardness of this situation was worth it. Almost.
"Okay, now pants?"
"Wait, bra first."
Your face was positively pulsing with blood, not really helping your headache but you could do nothing to stop it. The bra had to go, and you couldn't do it yourself.
You hoped Anakin knew how to take a bra off so you didn't have to explain it to him, and surprisingly, his hands reached around you and unclasped the band with no struggle at all. You tried to ignore how easy that was for him, especially with his eyes closed, and told yourself that maybe he was just using the force or some other Jedi trick.
He must have used at least 5,000 of those midichlorians for that, at least, if he was any normal boy. But then again... Anakin was the furthest thing from a normal boy.
By now, you were positively embarrassed with your boobs out in front of him. No one had ever seen you naked before, not that he was looking now, but this was still the most vulnerable you've been with anyone. One wrong move from either of you... and, well...
No words needed to be shared to know that next your pants had to go. You sucked it up and realized you'd have to just brace the pain for this part, cause there was no way you were going to make Anakin rid you of those, or your underwear. So you took it upon yourself to lift your hips as much as you could manage, shimmying both the articles of clothing down to just past your butt. The cold of the tiles made you shiver as your bare skin made contact with them, and then Anakin was taking over slipping them off the rest of the way.
He took your socks along with it, and even though your eyes were closed, your chest bubbled with the most insane amount of self-consciousness you'd felt to date.
You hated when people saw your feet. You didn't know why— there was nothing wrong with them— but it was just another one of those odd insecurities that materialized out of nowhere. You knew it was the dumbest thing to be embarrassed about right now, especially because you were fully naked before him after having just spewed your guts out in front of him. Plus, his eyes were still closed. But you felt like you were gonna pass out from how humiliated you were.
"You can't like... see me through the Force or anything, right?" You asked nervously.
Anakin laughed to relieve the tension and shook his head. "No, don't worry about it."
"Okay. Then... I think I might need help standing up."
'You think.' 'You might.' Anakin knew those phrases were included due to your complete inability to ask for help, and he appreciated your willingness to let your guard down now.
Finding your arms, he gripped onto your elbows while you did the same to his forearms, and pulled you up. With a little help from the force, he maneuvered you over to the bathtub, waiting for the sound of one leg, then the other, plunking into the water. His hold on you remained steady and strong as he lowered you into the warm water, the feeling of it doing wonders to soothe your muscles and the pain coursing throughout your whole body.
"Thank you," you sighed when you were comfortable, and Anakin took that as his sign to let go.
Part of you wanted him to stay. If you were braver, you'd ask him to open his eyes and help you wash your hair. You're certain he would do it, no questions asked. But the thought of him seeing your naked body, completely visible due to the lack of bubbles, had you feeling hot and squeamish. No— you could take over from here.
"I'll go get your soaps," he offered, and with your approval he left to do so. He came back in with his eyes closed still and you thought that maybe he didn't even have to open them to know where things were. That's why he could undo your bra clasp so easily... it sort of was like seeing through the force, only they weren't images. The blush was coming back to your cheeks as your brain mulled over just how much he could sense of your body right now—
"There. Do you need me to stay or should I go?" He asked, setting your bottles down on the edge of the tub.
"You can go. I'm okay for now, thanks."
Curse how awkward this all was. Yes, you wanted to bang the everloving daylights out of the man now shutting the bathroom door behind him, but this was not at all how you imagined your first experience being naked with him was. You had always thought it would be somewhere a little more romantic, like a bed with some flower petals... maybe a couple candles....
You never really let your thoughts go further than that because you didn't want to disrespect him. Plus, although you knew the basics of sex, you'd never actually done it. So it was a little hard to conjure up the rest of that image.
Not that you wanted to now, anyways. Any thoughts that pulled an extremely emotional response from you only seemed to heighten the churning of your still-restless stomach. It took a monumental amount of coaching, hissing, and begging yourself to take each bottle in your hand to use it for their intended purposes. By the end of your bath, you'd done a half-assed job at cleaning yourself but it was better than the muck you'd been sitting in for the past three days.
Only when you'd squeezed the last of the conditioner out of your hair did you realize, you weren't exactly sure how to get out of the bath. You knew, rationally, that you should call Anakin back in here; but at this point you were feeling far too needy and helpless and your dumb brain was telling you that you were annoying him.
You had gone this long without his help, so you clutched the rim of the bathtub and flexed your muscles, lifting yourself out of the water a couple inches.
A sharp pain in your stomach had you dropping back down, gasping and curling into a ball under the lukewarm water. Okay, fuck that. Pride be damned, you needed help.
"Anakin," you called meekly. Your voice was not loud at all, but he was cracking the door open like he'd been waiting there the whole time.
"Ready to get out?"
"Yeah."
Without needing to be told, he came in with his eyes closed. He offered you an arm again, and you felt bad for getting his clothes wet but he didn't seem to mind, with the way he reached behind your back and hoisted you out of the water. He let you swing your legs over the rim of the tub yourself, quivering and shaking at the cold air, and a towel was being wrapped around you in record speed.
You let him rub your arms up and down with it, brows furrowed in concentration as you moved to sit on the toilet seat. Once your shivering was reduced to a tolerable level, he left to get you some of your pajamas and then helped you into them.
You were already thinking up ways that you would pay him back for all of this. Not that you weren't particularly enjoying yourself— now that you weren't naked, instead freshly cleaned and in soft new clothes, being helped into a neatly made bed that smelled like clean linen by possibly the prettiest Jedi to exist... things weren't so terrible anymore...
"You have to eat five crackers and take your medicine, and then you're allowed to sleep," Anakin ordered.
"Two crackers."
"Five, and some water."
"Three."
"Five. This isn't a negotiation."
"Okay, fine, but when you're waking up in the middle of the night to me puking up five crackers instead of two, you'll be the one that's sorry."
"I'm so happy your attitude survived the Viraniphoid," he pressed the packet of crackers into your palm, and sat back with his arms crossed. He watched you with a cocked eyebrow the whole time you frowned at the little brown wafers, eyeing them like they were going to explode at any moment.
"Go on."
Taking one in your fingers, you brought it up to your lips and squeezed your eyes closed, nibbling on the edge. They were very bland and had almost no taste which made it easier than you expected to swallow the first bite. Still, your stomach wasn't very happy about the intrusion of the first, second, then third cracker.
"I can't do anymore," you held the last two crackers out for him to take, stomach gurgling all upset now. Your nausea was coming back, and you just wanted to curl up into a ball under the blankets rather than look at the crackers for another second.
"Finish them, Y/n. You're severely malnourished."
"I'm gonna puke, Anakin."
"Then give yourself something to puke up rather than just straight stomach acid this time."
Blast, he was right. It still didn't make it any easier, forcing the two crackers between your lips, chewing slowly, and swallowing. You shivered as they went down, willingly taking the water from him now. He held the cup as you latched onto the straw, taking a couple deep pulls before he pulled it back.
"Careful, not too fast." He slipped a couple of pills into your palm and you tossed them back, swallowing them with some more water before you couldn't take any more. The worry-lines on his face smoothed out then, and he set the water on the table beside the bed as you got comfortable against the pillows.
"You gonna stay?" You asked him from under your cocoon of blankets. He responded by occupying the other half of the bed, stretching his legs out before him and crossing his arms behind his head against the wall.
"Yup. For the next 36 hours, I'm your bodyguard."
"Really?"
"Mhm. I guess I did such a good job the last time someone I knew had an assassin after them that the Council decided to re-hire me."
He said this with a joking smirk, and you knew he was talking about that time he had to guard Padmè. You'd heard the story from her on the rare occasion she opened up about her relationship with Anakin— how Count Dooku was behind an attempt on her life, and Anakin was assigned to her as a Jedi protector while Obi-Wan hunted down the source of the attacks. How they'd gone to Naboo to hide, and that's when their romance bloomed from a childhood crush to a full on romance.
"Ani's been in love with me since he was a little boy," she would boast with hearts floating around in her eyes. "And I hadn't realized how much he'd grown since then. He's a man now, of course."
You only knew a couple details after that. She didn't really like talking about their voyage to Tatooine, where Anakin's mother died in his arms, or Geonosis where the two of them, along with Obi-Wan, had been sent to their executions. That's where Anakin lost his arm, even— the beginning of the Clone Wars.
A sharp stab of pain rang through your body— this time in your chest, not your stomach. Anakin and Padmè had been through so much together, and it made you sad, angry, and a little jealous that you'd missed out on so much. You and Anakin had only known each other for a year. Padmè still knew him so much better than you, even if you technically had him now. And the fact that they once shared a true, lasting love will forever beat at your heart with angry red fists.
"Padmè, right?" You pretended to play dumb. He nodded and looked at you.
"Did she tell you about it?"
"She did."
Maybe now was a good time to bring up what you knew about him. The topic was right there, and it seemed as good a time as it ever would be. Plus, you hated the weight of keeping this secret of you knowing from him. And maybe the fact that you were in such a weak and vulnerable state would prevent him from getting too angry at you.
"She told us everything."
"Yeah, there was a lot that happened." His eyes were faraway, even though they were trained on your face. No doubt thinking of his mother, probably. You felt terrible for bringing a painful memory up— a lot, actually, but it had to be done if you were to get this out.
"Yup. A lot happened."
His eyes refocused on you, suspicious.
"Why'd you say it like that?"
You hoped he could just read the truth from your eyes without you having to say it.
"You... and Padmè.... yaknow..."
He stilled.
"I already know. I've known for months now. It's okay— no one else knows. Only the rest of the girls, but that's it. We all swore to keep it a secret or we'd hunt each other down. So you don't have to worry about Obi-Wan finding out, or Ahsoka, or anyone really..."
You trailed off when he didn't cut you off. Braving a glance at his face, you saw that he was staring straight ahead, eyes cold and lips set in a straight line.
Perfect. He was angry.
"Anakin," you said quietly. "Um..."
It wasn't really in your nature to push people, especially when they were clearly upset like this, so you let the room fall into a thick silence. When you realized he wasn't going to say anything, your heart sunk and you turned over in bed.
Great. You'd really done it this time— after this whole evening of him helping you, no less. What a way to repay him.
You weren't sure if he was angry, and if he was, if it was directed at you. The thought scared you. You didn't want to lose him as a friend over this, and you weren't really sure how he would react when you brought it up.
But another part of you thought that maybe he was. Surprised. Taken aback. Scared, even. To him, no one had known about his forbidden romance with the Senator— one he could get kicked out of the Order for, and lose everything. Now, he was learning that a whole group of people knew. He was probably panicking on the inside, and also stewing in anger at the fact that no one ever told him that his secret was out. Not even you, who was supposed to be his friend.
Yeah. You made a mistake. Now, you could only offer him a quiet whisper that you hoped would relay the amount of guilt and regret you felt.
"I'm sorry."