I SWEAR I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS CHAPTER GOT SO LONG IT JUST HAPPENED.

Also sorry to make people think Siri died for a year LOL. I debated whether to kill her or not but it was just too much for me (and Obi-Wan) to bear. Especially lately, because you guys, I've been rewatching the prequels and listening to the music and TCW and WHY DO OUR POOR BABIES ALL HAVE TO HAVE SUCH SUCKY LIVES I AM NOT OK.

*throws the chapter and runs*

The blue kaleidoscope of hyperspace lit up the cockpit. The room was silent as everyone still processed what had happened. Vader was the first to stand, quietly making his way out of the area without looking at the other two occupants, who both watched him go. Obi-Wan and Padmé exchanged glances. Her brother still looked haggard, but his face seemed a little less careworn after seeing the Rebel reinforcements. Padmé felt similar – at least there was still hope for victory today for the Alliance. Heaven knew she had won a victory today.

But it seemed the exhaustion and full repercussions of the day were finally settling on everyone. Padmé felt weary, and Obi-Wan most certainly looked it. Nevertheless, she was going to check on Vader. Rising, she headed out, her brother watching her go before leaning forward in his seat and burying his face in his right hand.

The ship they'd stolen was a small freighter, and it had a tight hallway flanked with crew quarters just outside the cockpit. She didn't see Vader in the hall, so she started to search through the six rooms available. She eventually found Vader pacing sporadically in one of them, hugging himself with a white knuckled grip.

Leaning against the door, she watched him for a few moments before questioning softly, "Vader?"

Pausing, Vader looked at her, having sensed her already. His eyes were sad, hesitant, and confused.

"What's wrong?" she asked, stepping into the room.

Vader looked at his feet. "The governor…"

Padmé bit her lip. She understood why it would hurt so much – Tarkin had been there through most of Vader's life. No matter her own opinion of the man, no matter what he'd done since Vader's capture, she knew he still cared about him. He might have even loved him. To lose him in such a manner… to be the one to end it… she couldn't imagine what he was feeling. But she could imagine he didn't know what to do about it.

"It's going to be okay," she said reassuringly, placing a hand on his arm. He looked at her. "I know you cared about him. I'm sorry it had to end this way."

Facing her fully, he stared into her eyes. She smiled, letting him read whatever he wanted to from it. She was here for him. She would always be here for him. Eventually his eyes started to glisten with unshed tears, and he trembled, trying to push her hand away.

Padmé grabbed his wrist gently and rubbed his arm with the hand he was trying to remove. "It's okay to let it out, you know."

Vader stopped fighting and sighed heavily, staying motionless for a few moments. Padmé watched him. He looked as exhausted as she and Obi-Wan felt, what with his bloodshot eyes and dark saggy bags beneath them. Today had drained all of them. She wasn't sure Vader could feel much more after everything. Thank heavens the flight to Nar Shaddaa was several hours – they'd all have time to sleep and recover before they arrived.

Eventually, Vader stepped towards Padmé, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. Padmé bit back a gasp at the maneuver, still surprised at how open he was now, and was immensely grateful for it. She remembered the first time he'd hugged her, so long ago on Imperial Center in the senate after the final recess. She remembered he'd said he did it because she liked hugs. It had been solely for her, a gift, a gesture, a loss of control as he was destabilized. Then Naboo... it had been an apology. She'd thought maybe the hugs on Ghanu'jivo had been part of the ploy, but it seemed Obi-Wan and Siri had finally instilled the benefits of physical contact in him. Smiling, she returned the gesture gently. The two remained that way for an eternity, silently giving each other strength and relying on each other in return.

Padmé couldn't describe how happy she was, how relieved she was. Her confrontation with Vader had been the endgame for both of them. If he'd chosen the Empire… she pushed the thought out of her head. It was no longer an issue, and never would be. He had chosen freedom. And she would be there to help him discover it. He had chosen love. And they would figure that out together.

All her life, Padmé had wanted to help others. She had dedicated her life to helping others. She'd made a difference to her planet by being queen. She'd helped the galaxy by being a senator and a spy for the Alliance. And now, she would not only help one of the most lost souls in the galaxy, but she would find herself while doing it. Neither of them would be lonely ever again.

She was eternally grateful that they'd seen Rebel reinforcements arrive with enough firepower to defeat the Empire. It was the last reassurance she needed, the final piece that fell into place, the closure she wanted. She knew everything would be all right.

Vader took a slow, deep breath, tickling her neck with it. She felt her entire body tremble at the sensation. She held him even tighter. The world around them dissolved.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

She figured she knew why he was saying that, but she asked anyway to confirm it and to help him sort it out. "For what?"

"Everything."

Squeezing him more tightly, Padmé said, "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay."

Vader seemed to melt in her arms, leaning on her heavily. She supported him, filled with strength despite her tiredness. She would give him all the strength he needed.

"I love you," he muttered into her neck.

Now Padmé seemed to melt in his arms. Gods it felt good to hear those words, to know there was no longer a hidden agenda between them. They were both finally free. "I love you too."

Eventually the moment had to end, and they both reluctantly pulled away from each other.

Shifting, Vader reached for something on his belt and then pressed a cold metal object into Padmé's hands. She looked down to see her shoto. At first it sat in her hands, unaccepted, as she stared at it. This shoto had been through so much, had taken part in so much... she'd built it so long ago. It had represented her relationship with Vader over all this time - a gift, a memento, an asset, a clue, a weapon, a means of destruction and love and caring. It meant so much to her, and she knew it meant the world to him. The last time she'd seen it he'd been making false promises, he'd been leading her on in an attempt to help her. He'd told her not to worry about it. But now he gave it freely, he gave it freely because there was nothing left to hide between them, no shadowy agenda, no grudges or manipulations or factions... it was just them. Her fingers closed around the hilt and she looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyes, and she smiled.

"You need to rest," he noted, stepping away from her entirely.

Padmé's face softened, her tears disappearing. "As do you."

Vader sighed and nodded. Looking at the bed in the room, he eyed her for a moment, debating something. Padmé blinked, not entirely sure what the gesture meant. Raising an eyebrow, she asked, "What is it?"

Vader shifted, hesitant and slightly baffled. "I… Obi-Wan and Siri would rest with me. Did I misinterpret it? Were they just making sure I didn't misbehave?"

The tears returned. She would have to thank Obi-Wan later. "No, you didn't misinterpret anything. They wanted to keep you safe."

For a moment, his bemusement increased. "I had better training, and I was more likely to keep them safe than the other way around."

Padmé chuckled at his naïveté. "It's just what people do – it's a means of comfort, like a hug, a constant way to say they're there for you. They wanted you to feel safe."

Vader bit his lip, looking at the bed. "I… I did feel safe."

Padmé watched him, her heart warming. Then he looked at her. "I feel safe with you too. But I… I understand if you don't feel that way."

Shaking her head, she slipped her shoes off and sat on the bed. "There's no one I'd rather be with."

A ghost of a smile traced Vader's lips, and he slowly joined her on the bed. The two looked at each other, and an immense desire filled Padmé. All those sensations she'd felt in the past when their relationship had been budding, that fire that had nearly overtaken her the night she'd been shot… they stirred inside her, increasing her heartrate, making her want to lean in towards Vader. She wanted to be with him on a deeper level, and the need was almost overwhelming. However, Padmé snapped back to her more rational self. He was exhausted. So was she. He was an emotional disaster. Neither of them was ready for that. She wasn't sure he ever would be. But she would be here for him, no matter what. So she just smiled reassuringly. Watching her for a moment longer, Vader slipped under the covers and settled, and Padmé slowly followed suit.

Everything felt right in the galaxy, and a peace Padmé hadn't experienced in what seemed to be years settled within her, lulling her to sleep.

The Alliance would win. Al would make it out alive. It was going to be okay.

But the amount of people who had died… the Jedi strike team… the day may end in victory, but it was at such a heavy cost.

Such an unnecessary cost.

Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut. His head no longer hurt the way it had been, but his body still ached from the sheer insanity of the day. It had been a few hours since they'd entered hyperspace. The Force had quieted, Anakin's tumultuous feelings settling into a daze of slumber. At least it made Obi-Wan's ability to focus a little better, despite his thoughts scattering in every direction.

Stupid boy. Stupid me. I should have known!

Obi-Wan rubbed his face in frustration for the millionth time. He'd done it so much he was fairly certain he would scrape a layer of skin off. Enough time had passed that his anger had diminished greatly, but it would still flare up at moments, filling him with almost enough energy to get out of his seat. Almost. Mostly, though, he just felt completely worn and thin, like a husk from hollowed shuura fruit.

The Force shifted. Alertness lit up in Obi-Wan's mind. Anakin was awake.

Not only was he awake, but something was bothering him. That was clear enough as the Force twisted, making Obi-Wan's stomach churn. The Jedi sighed in frustration. He wasn't going to seek him out – Anakin could deal with his problems by himself.

But that wasn't really fair, he supposed. Leaving Anakin to deal with his own problems had caused this catastrophe.

The door to the cockpit opened, startling Obi-Wan, and he turned to see Anakin standing there. Well. He supposed he wouldn't have to go to him, then. Irritation still managed to flare up inside of Obi-Wan, and honestly, despite his usual temperament and his recent training, he didn't bother stifling it.

"Do you need something?" he asked coldly.

Anakin flinched minutely at his tone. Then he slid slowly to one knee, lowering his head. Obi-Wan stared at him, bemused and slightly unsettled.

"I… I failed you. I'm sorry."

Anakin at least sounded sincere. And this was actually the second time he'd apologized. Obi-Wan bit his tongue, fighting with a thousand retorts in his mind. He looked away briefly, still not quite wanting to acknowledge the apology. He shouldn't rebuff the gesture, though, considering Anakin was so careful and rare with his words that they always held a lot of meaning to them. An apology was a huge deal from him, and he'd now done it multiple times for the same issue.

Issue. As if it were a simple mishap. As if people hadn't died for it.

But what else was new? Anakin's decisions in the past had gotten people killed as well. The attack on the Imperial fleet. The stampede in Firro. The outbursts on Hoth. The rage after Palpatine's demise. The more Obi-Wan thought about it, the more it sank in that this turn of events really meant nothing at all to Anakin – at least in the sense of the collateral damage. He didn't even perceive it. And that frustrated Obi-Wan all the more.

Turning back to Anakin, he opened his mouth to berate him when he saw the boy was still genuflecting, head lowered almost to his knee. The Force shuddered and shriveled into Anakin in a strange manner, one that Obi-Wan had sensed in the past.

Shame. Guilt. Hurt. Fear. Longing.

His chest tightened. "Do you realize what you did back there?"

"I was selfish."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, surprised he would admit it, surprised he would understand it. And then he realized that Anakin actually didn't understand it. He was parroting what Obi-Wan had said earlier, what Padmé had likely repeated.

How could Anakin improve if he wouldn't learn?!

Obi-Wan stood abruptly, frustrated. He opened his mouth to lecture the idiotic boy when he suddenly felt like he'd been punched. Anakin looked so small. He was collapsing into himself, disappearing into the floor, groveling in front of him.

Groveling. Like he would be to Palpatine.

Obi-Wan felt sick. "Get up."

Anakin slowly rose, refusing to make eye contact. He wasn't like this earlier; was his guilt actually settling in, or was he trying a different tactic since Obi-Wan hadn't warmed up to him as easily as Padmé?

Oh, Padmé. She was so trusting, even despite everything. Obi-Wan marveled at it, debating its efficacy. But he was not going to be naïve. He knew Anakin was dangerous, knew the man could still jump to conclusions that led to disaster. What if he lost control again and hurt Padmé? Or, more likely, hurt those around them? The reason Anakin didn't perceive collateral damage was because Anakin didn't care if people died, as long as it wasn't a particular group of people. The rest didn't matter to him. And that scared Obi-Wan.

"Do you know why I'm angry?" Obi-Wan asked quietly, trying to keep calm.

Anakin closed his eyes and sighed, seeming tired from the question. He made no response.

Obi-Wan took the opportunity to speak, and the words just spilled out. "I'm angry because of the lives you destroyed today. I'm angry because you couldn't listen to one simple request and just keep the peace. I'm angry because you took my words and twisted them to suit your own selfish desires. I'm angry because you would even dare to assume that any of us would think what you did was acceptable, let alone correct."

Anakin remained still as a statue, taking the onslaught. Then he slowly opened his eyes, though they remained downcast. He still didn't speak.

"Does that make sense?" Obi-Wan demanded, crossing his arms.

Anakin bobbed his head forward slightly in acknowledgement. His body remained tense. The Force coiled around him slowly as he pulled it to him like a blanket.

"You have to realize the kind of damage you cause," Obi-Wan continued, waving an arm to make his point. "You have to realize that this isn't just about you – it's not even just about me and Padmé and Siri. Every single life matters, Anakin, not just the people you care about!"

Anakin's mouth became a thin line. He didn't budge, nor did the Force. Obi-Wan wasn't sure what to make of it, wasn't sure if he wanted more of a reaction or if it even mattered. Eventually, he just blew out a hot breath, annoyed. "Just get out."

He turned away, and in his periphery he saw Anakin bow and back out of the room. The cockpit door hissed shut, and all was silent.

A small, small part of him felt guilty at his loss of temper. But it was far too small to really take hold, and he still couldn't quite muster the strength to quench the raging feelings inside him. He needed to rest. Referencing the navi-computer, Obi-Wan noted that they still had six hours before their arrival to Nar Shaddaa. It was a surprisingly fast eight hour trip, compared to the nineteen hours it had taken last time with Al. Then again, they hadn't originally been heading for the moon, and then they had to take less traveled paths. With the navi-computer determining the way, they were using a major hyperspace route for the bulk of the trip. Of course, that also meant they could be pulled out at any point by a patrol. That used to make Obi-Wan nervous. Now he didn't care. Anakin would get them out of the situation.

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose. If Anakin was actually sincere in helping them, that is.

He didn't know why he was still questioning it, honestly. The more his frustration settled, the more he realized it wouldn't make any sense for Anakin to still be plotting something. Padmé was right – he had been holding all the pieces and had just dropped them to leave with the siblings. He'd even offered a way to save the few Jedi still alive, despite his absolute hatred for them.

No, Obi-Wan supposed Anakin wasn't a threat to them anymore. That didn't change the fact that he was likely still a threat to everyone else, though.

Obi-Wan sighed, tired. Blast.

Padmé felt warm, floating in a sea of comfort and calm. Her body was relaxed, the mattress soft, the fluffy pillow a heavenly gift for her sore neck. All her cares and worries had long since melted away, and she just enjoyed lying there.

Slowly, reality started to return. The hum of the hyperdrive, slightly lower in pitch than the engines. The ticking of a chronometer on the wall. And then the thoughts – Imperial Center, the confrontation, reinforcements, Nar Shaddaa…

Padmé opened her eyes.

The room was dark, the lights having been dimmed. Had she done that before going to bed?

Wait… where was Vader?

It felt a little foreign to think that, to ask where someone was as if it were normal to be sharing a bed. And then she smiled, content. It was definitely foreign, but certainly not unwelcome. That still didn't answer the question of where he was, though.

Pushing the covers off her, Padmé slowly sat up, stretching. She felt immensely better after the nap. Glancing at the chronometer, she realized she hadn't napped at all, but had just slept for the entire trip as if it were a full night's rest. Blast. No wonder she felt the way she did.

Rising, Padmé stifled a yawn as she slipped her boots back on, exiting the room. She headed for the cockpit first, figuring Vader would be there, his love for flying compelling him to sit firmly in the captain's chair where no one could argue his need to pilot. Sure enough, he was there when she entered, silently contemplating hyperspace.

Padmé saw his face in the reflection of the viewport. His eyes glanced to her own reflection briefly and then returned to staring ahead. He certainly seemed much calmer than earlier, but how long had he been in here?

Raising an eyebrow, she asked, "Did you even sleep?"

Vader tipped his head in acknowledgement. He must have gotten a fair amount of rest with the way he was acting. If he was calm and collected, reserving his words for the bare minimum, then he was back to his default. Padmé wasn't entirely sure if it was good or not, but it did mean he wasn't an emotional disaster at the moment. Still, she wanted to talk.

Taking a seat in the chair beside him, she asked, "How are you feeling?"

Vader, who had been sitting somewhat stiffly, arms folded firmly over his chest, again glanced at her and then back at hyperspace. It had been so long since he was emotionally stable that Padmé felt like they'd hit a reset button and they were suddenly on their way to Naboo for the final recess. She remained quiet, waiting for an answer.

"Everything's under control," he finally said.

Padmé nodded slowly, parsing through the statement. She supposed that would have to do. Assuming he was actually doing better, then his statement was the best way he could describe it. And if something was in fact bothering him, she would see it, and she'd like to think he'd at least try to mention it. He didn't seem guarded so much as calm.

There was a somewhat awkward pause. Padmé wasn't sure what to say next, but she definitely wanted to keep talking. Instead, Vader took the initiative.

"Thank you," he whispered softly, finally making constant eye contact.

Padmé stared at him, confused. "For what?"

"Everything."

Padmé felt her face soften, and her heart fluttered. "You're welcome."

Vader's expression was gentle as well, his eyes twinkling, the corners of his mouth turned slightly up in the smallest but surest smile she'd ever seen. In fact, she was pretty sure it was the first time she'd ever seen him genuinely smile at all. She felt giddy, her own happiness breaking out into what was probably a ridiculous toothy grin, and she giggled.

Vader's affectionate look vanished in an instant, replaced with utter bewilderment. Padmé burst out into laughter. His expression began to grow alarmed, and his arms slowly unfolded as he seemed at a loss of what to do. Padmé leapt to her feet and nearly collapsed onto his lap, hugging him fiercely while still laughing. Gods, she was so happy. They'd all come such a long way.

She felt Vader's hands on her back, though they were stiffer than the last time they'd hugged, probably because he still had no idea what was happening. Eventually she pulled away far enough to look at his face and almost burst out in hysterics again. His eyes were wide, his brow furrowed, his lips pursed, and the best way to describe his expression was simply what the hell is happening someone send help.

"I'm just glad we're together," she explained between chuckles.

"Is that funny?"

"No, silly," she answered, leaning in for another hug, which he now welcomed, encircling one arm around her back and letting the other rest on her leg as she sat on his lap. "I'm just too happy to hold it in."

"Happiness makes you laugh?"

"It can."

Suddenly, Vader pushed her torso away to look her in the eye. "So you can lose control of happiness too?"

"Anyone and everyone can lose control of their emotions," Padmé explained gently, brushing some hair out of his face. He flinched at the touch, but didn't pull away.

"Is it… is it acceptable?"

"Acceptable?"

Vader blinked. Padmé elaborated, "What do you mean?"

"To be so happy you can't control it?"

Acceptable. He used that word to cover a lot of things. Acceptable meant good. He was asking if it was nice.

Padmé's hand settled on Vader's cheek, stroking it lovingly. She smiled. "Always."

The two stared into each other's eyes, so many words yet to be said, but not needing to in that moment. They steadily leaned in towards each other, their gazes drifting to each other's lips, and then they met. The kiss was so, so soft, so welcome, so blissful and gentle. The hum of the hyperdrive vanished, the flashing lights from the viewport were gone. All she could hear was his breathing, all she could taste was his lips on hers. She felt warm, comfortable, safe, happy, she felt everything. And she knew he did too, his arms automatically wrapping around her back and pulling her in as she held him close. Tears leaked out of her eyes and she broke the kiss with a mix between a sob and a giggle, so giddy that she couldn't stop herself, but this time, Vader wasn't startled or confused by it, and he simply resumed where they had stopped.

Time had stopped. Padmé didn't even know where she was anymore. All that mattered was that she was with Vader, finally, with no strings attached, no war hanging over them, no commitments to anyone but each other.

We're free.

After an eternity, they slowly pulled away, hovering centimeters from each other's faces, breathing softly. Padmé slowly opened her eyes and saw Vader looking at her, the blue of his irises so deep she could get lost in them forever.

"Thank you," he whispered again, his voice so quiet she almost didn't hear it.

Padmé shook her head, smiling once more. "You already said that."

"Just saying it isn't enough. I…" he trailed off, looking away for a moment. "I don't know what else to say, but it isn't enough."

Touching his face, she directed his attention back to her. "You can thank me by just being you. Just be you, Vader."

He watched her intently, his eyes searching for something, the slightest crease in his forehead forming. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, his features relaxed, not neutral, simply content. Determined. "Anakin."

Padmé blinked. "What?"

Vader rolled his eyes. "I'm buying you hearing aids."

Padmé flicked his shoulder lightly. "I heard you, you shaak. I just don't know what you mean."

"Call me Anakin."

Padmé stared at him, shocked and uncertain of the gesture. She recalled the cold rebuff when she'd attempted to call him by that name back on Naboo, and she'd never quite understood it, but after everything, she supposed it was because he hadn't forgiven her. She hadn't earned the right to use the name. Or perhaps it was because he had still thought Darth Vader was his true name and was simply humoring Obi-Wan and Siri.

Whatever it was, Darth Vader wasn't what suited him anymore. It wasn't who he was.

He was Anakin Skywalker. And he was finally sharing that with her.

"Anakin," she said softly, trying the word out, tasting it in her mouth. She liked it.

Vader—Anakin—raised an eyebrow, pulling at one corner of his mouth, his expression turning somewhat exasperated and amused. "That wasn't a command."

Padmé rolled her eyes. "I know."

"Then why did you—"

"Just kiss me, silly."

Anakin stared at her, his eyes brightening, and they leaned towards each other once more. His grip on her tightened, and she felt so safe in his arms. The kiss slipped, their cheeks sliding against each other as they snuggled into the embrace, and Padmé kept her eyes closed, relaxing.

The perfect, beautiful, moment finally came to an end when a console beeped consistently. Opening her eyes, Padmé recognized it as a signal from the navi-computer. They had arrived on Nar Shaddaa.

Shifting, Padmé stood as Anakin's hands slid off her. The couple looked at the viewport as the engines roared to life, slowing their exit from hyperspace. The cockpit darkened as the bright lights of hyperspace faded and black overtook everything before a grungy, brown and orange moon rushed into view. Padmé eyed it slightly warily. It certainly didn't look welcoming.

"Have you ever been here before?" she asked. She knew Obi-Wan had, recalling his story of his misadventure here with Siri and Al. This was the place where they had learned about Kelathik serum. She recalled Obi-Wan had said it was unpleasant.

Anakin nodded. Padmé was curious as to what that must have been like, but she kept her questions to herself for now. She was honestly more concerned with what they would do when they landed. Where would they go? Would they stay here or just lay low for a while? She hadn't discussed the matter with Obi-Wan, who had been the one to choose the place.

Speaking of whom, the cockpit door opened to reveal her brother, looking a little groggy but certainly less haggard than earlier. Padmé smiled at him welcomingly, and Obi-Wan pushed his disheveled hair out of his face, returning the smile with a little less enthusiasm.

Anakin grabbed the steering yoke and smoothly guided the freighter into afferent traffic.

Nervously, Padmé asked, "Do we need clearance codes or anything?"

Obi-Wan snorted. "All we need is money. That's the only language they speak here."

Then her brother hissed under his breath. Concerned, Padmé looked at him. "What's wrong?"

"Well last time we exchanged credits for peggats, but that was after we landed. They don't accept Imperial money."

"I'll handle it," Anakin piped in softly, his eyes staying on his flight path.

Padmé glanced from him to her brother, smiling reassuringly. Obi-Wan sighed and nodded. Then she asked, "So what did you have in mind for this place?"

Obi-Wan glanced at her and then stroked his chin, his fingers pulling on his beard. "I figured we could stay here a few days while we sort out everything. It would also keep us away from, well, everyone else. Nar Shaddaa is a neutral moon."

Padmé nodded. "So where to once we land? Where do we land?"

Obi-Wan's expression grew sheepish. "Honestly, I have no idea where Al landed last time. But I do know the Promenade is the safest place to be."

Padmé walked to one of the consoles and input information, searching for the Promenade on the moon. When she found it she gave the coordinates to Anakin. As he lowered the ship into the atmosphere, Padmé and Obi-Wan strapped into adjacent seats while the viewport lit up with heat from the entry.

When the view cleared, Padmé squinted as her eyes adjusted to the stark contrast of filthy brown smog lit up by bright neon lights. She'd seen pollution before, but good grief… this looked hellish. "Is it safe to breathe that air?"

"It's debatable," Obi-Wan sighed. "But Al seems to think so."

"It depends upon length of exposure," Anakin answered factually. Padmé and Obi-Wan exchanged mildly exasperated glances.

"Your observations are as astute as ever," Obi-Wan grumbled.

Anakin's head moved slightly to the right as he glanced at Obi-Wan out of the side of his eye. He looked like he was questioning whether he'd been complemented or not. Padmé gave Obi-Wan a somewhat stern look, as if to chastise him for messing with Anakin, but her brother was unapologetic.

The freighter flew smoothly as Anakin guided it to a large rectangular structure with dozens of hangar doors awaiting ships. It looked like a parking garage for speeders – the spaceports on Imperial Center were more majestic than this graffiti covered edifice. Nevertheless, it seemed sturdy, and once they passed through the hangar door the inside at least looked functional. Padmé took a deep breath as she unbuckled herself from the safety harness after the final touchdown of the landing gear. Obi-Wan and Anakin followed suit, and Anakin hastily left the cockpit to handle the deck officer.

Padmé glanced at Obi-Wan. "Are you okay?"

Her brother watched her somberly. "Are you expecting me to be?"

"Obi…" she didn't really know what to say. She understood. She really did. But… she sighed. She hoped he would trust Anakin again someday.

"Go on. He's waiting for you."

Confused, Padmé looked out the viewport to see Anakin standing alone in the hangar, staring at the cockpit. He must have already handled the officer, then. Padmé looked at her brother once more, wanting to help him, to convince him it was going to be all right. Obi-Wan just looked resigned, and he motioned for her to exit. Biting her lip, Padmé leaned over to her brother and pulled him into a hug, which he returned gently.

"I love you," she whispered.

Obi-Wan squeezed her tightly, burying his face into her shoulder and sighing, and then he pulled away. "Go on, Padmé. I'll catch up."

Reluctantly, Padmé exited the cockpit. Obi-Wan leaned against the wall, sighing. His anger was gone. He just felt empty now. Empty and scared. He hated it. Ever since beginning his Jedi training he'd improved when it came to controlling his worries, but now it didn't seem to matter. He felt like a failure in every possible way, and he felt so completely out of control of the situation.

The hours of flight to Nar Shaddaa had given him no rest. He'd only tossed and turned in one of the crew beds, unable to stop thinking about everything. Everything. The past week had been such a whirlwind. He couldn't believe it had only been a week since he'd discovered Padmé was still alive. What an amazing, wonderful disaster that had been. He'd tried so hard to remain stoic so Anakin wouldn't turn into a walking emotional wreck that could and would kill everything in his path, and he'd only hurt Padmé. When he'd finally opened back up to her, he'd closed off Anakin and misled him. And this was the result.

Obi-Wan didn't know what to do anymore. Anakin was a ticking time bomb that would hurt others if he lost control of his emotions. At least with Padmé's plan, most things that would trigger him were no longer an issue. But… Obi-Wan just didn't know anymore. He'd thought he'd had a grasp on the situation, he'd thought he could help Anakin, protect Padmé, fight the Empire… he was nothing but a failure. And Anakin was just out of control.

What if Padmé was wrong? She'd been wrong before; it had almost gotten her killed. It had gotten Jedi killed. Obi-Wan was worried, and he couldn't think straight.

How was it that he could forgive Anakin of killing his sister and not of this? Was it even a matter of forgiveness, or was it just that he was incapable of trusting him anymore? Was this how Padmé felt initially upon waking up in the Tarkin estate? Had she thought trusting Anakin was impossible at that point? Possibly, but Obi-Wan doubted it had ever been a certainty in her mind. She was always the more trusting of the group. It made her naïve. But it also made her infinitely more compassionate than him.

Tears stung in his eyes, and Obi-Wan bit his tongue until he tasted blood, trying desperately to get a hold of himself. The Jedi Code sounded hollow, and nothing brought him comfort. He wished Siri was here, but then again, he imagined her anger at the situation would overwhelm everything.

Siri. How was he going to explain this to her? He'd promised himself that he would call her as soon as they arrived on Nar Shaddaa. She was probably worried sick.

Grabbing his comlink, Obi-Wan slowly keyed in the frequency for his wife, wondering what in the blazes he was even going to say, what he should say. His worry shifted, however, when she failed to answer. Staring at the comlink in utter dread, he tried again.

Eventually, thankfully, she answered. "Obi! Obi, are you okay? Al told me everything—where are you? What's going on?"

Al? How had he told her everything? Did that… had he actually escaped Imperial Center? "Is Al there? On Ghanu'jivo?"

"Yes, he brought what was left of the Jedi team back. Obi, what happened?"

Obi-Wan hesitated, and then he just said it. "Anakin."

Siri was silent. Then, "Damn it. I should've known. I should have said something. Damn it!"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, I should have known."

"Obi, I noticed he was missing. I was getting ready to look for him before the attack."

Obi-Wan huffed. "You mean the sabotage?"

"No. The attack."

Obi-Wan blinked, growing confused. "What attack?"

"The Empire sent a fleet to Ghanu'jivo."

Obi-Wan felt his blood run cold. "What? Are you alright? What about the family? The Padawans, the younglings—"

"I checked up on the family. They're shaken, but fine. We took some hard hits, but most of the non-combatants made it out alive."

Leaning heavily against the wall, Obi-Wan lowered his arm to support himself. Had Anakin orchestrated that as well? Was he willing to put Siri's life in danger to destroy the Jedi? "Are you okay?"

"Yes. And so is our daughter. You can thank Master Yoda for that."

The tears threatened to fall out of his eyes, and Obi-Wan hastily wiped them away with the back of his hand. He couldn't speak, his throat thick with emotion, his mind reeling from this new information. He had no clue who this Master Yoda was, but he was infinitely grateful to that person.

"Obi… where are you?"

Obi-Wan swallowed hard. "Nar Shaddaa."

"I'll grab Al and we'll head over there. Just send me coordinates."

Nodding, Obi-Wan tried to acknowledge her, but his voice was trembling too much. Siri cut the connection.

The Empire had attacked Ghanu'jivo. The Empire had attacked Ghanu'jivo. There were children there. They could have died. Siri and the baby could have died.

Obi-Wan slid to the floor. This was too much. This was all just too much. He'd endured it for a week, he'd thought he could make it through everything…

"Obi?"

Jumping, Obi-Wan looked up to see Padmé and Anakin standing in the corridor, watching him. They both looked concerned, though Anakin lingered in the shadows, hesitant to get close. Padmé immediately ran to her brother and fell to her knees beside him.

"Obi-Wan, what's wrong?" she asked worriedly.

Obi-Wan looked at her for a moment, but as the words formed in his mind, his eyes settled on Anakin accusingly. "The Empire attacked Ghanu'jivo."

Padmé's gasp of horror was lost to him. Instead, he eyed Anakin carefully, waiting to see his reaction. Anakin's eyes narrowed as he processed the information, and then his face paled. He looked Obi-Wan in the eye. "Siri?"

"She's fine," Obi-Wan explained, and he heard Padmé say something, but he didn't understand her. Anakin breathed a sigh of relief. Was it relief because Siri was alive despite his manipulations, or did he genuinely not know? "Were you responsible?"

Anakin shook his head slowly. "I had been looking for the Jedi enclave, but I had never found it. The governor must have continued the search after my capture."

"Did you just call her?" Padmé asked loudly, probably repeating what she'd said earlier.

Obi-Wan nodded. "She's fine. So's the rest of the family. Al is too—he told her about Imperial Center. He made it out."

Padmé's face brightened. "That's wonderful!"

Obi-Wan let out a breathy laugh. Yes, even he had to concede that most of the news seemed to be good. Then he looked at his sister. "Is the docking fee handled?"

Padmé nodded and smiled. Anakin added, "I already grabbed the necessary funds. I also procured us a hotel room near the Promenade. What's our next objective?"

Obi-Wan took a few moments to catch his breath, looking between his sister and Anakin. Padmé still watched him a little worriedly, but her eyes glittered with relief and the Force sang with happiness. Anakin watched him with a guarded expression, his eyes determined. The guilt and shame from earlier seemed to be gone, replaced by a burning drive to do something.

Rubbing his arms, Obi-Wan slowly stood. "Getting to the hotel and possibly getting something to eat."

Anakin nodded and handed Padmé a data pad. "The hotel address is here. These peggats will get you there. All the information you need is in the pad."

Padmé glanced at him confusedly, a little off balance at having the data pad shoved in her face. "Uh, right. And you?"

"I'll be there."

"Where the blazes do you think you're going?" Obi-Wan asked darkly.

Anakin looked back at him. "Nowhere. I was going to stay with you."

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow. "Are you suspecting that I'm not going to the hotel?"

Anakin shook his head. "I was simply sending her ahead."

Obi-Wan stared at him, baffled. Anakin then looked at Padmé, and she seemed to read something in his expression, nodding and heading out. "Don't be long, you two."

Reaching into the Force, Obi-Wan tentatively poked at the bond between him and the young man. It was tightly shut. Crossing his arms suspiciously, he asked, "What are you planning?"

Anakin's expression was neutral, but the Force wasn't icy. He wasn't hiding anything, just waiting. "Nothing."

Why was he waiting? What was he waiting for? What was up with him now? Obi-Wan was too blasted tired for this nonsense. "Whatever you need to say, Anakin, just say it. I don't have the patience for this right now."

Anakin shifted his feet, his lips pursing slightly, his brow furrowing. The Force grew shaky with uncertainty, confusion, trepidation. Anakin was as bewildered with this as Obi-Wan. What the blazes was wrong with him now? Was he having a hard time articulating something? That was nothing new… heaven forbid Obi-Wan try to speak for him lest he come up with some new hair brained idea that would get people killed. Or if Obi-Wan changed the subject, whatever it was would fester and cause more destruction in the future.

Blast it all, he was tired of this. "What is it, Anakin?"

Anakin watched him warily as if he couldn't predict what Obi-Wan was trying to say or do. "You're… you're angry."

Obi-Wan sighed. "I was, yes."

Anakin nodded but said nothing.

Obi-Wan grew all the more exasperated. "Was that an observation or were you trying to make a point?"

Anakin's eyes narrowed as he seemed to examine something on Obi-Wan's face, and then he took a small step forward, back, and his hands lifted hesitantly before falling to his sides again. Obi-Wan stared at him, bewildered.

The Force twisted and churned, growing uncomfortably warm with the sensation, like heat from friction as it rubbed itself raw. Obi-Wan felt a knot form in his stomach. Anakin didn't know what to do, didn't know how to deal with whatever was bothering him now, and Obi-Wan had to play detective.

He didn't have the energy for this. "Let's just go to the hotel."

Anakin flinched as if he'd been struck. He nodded meekly, and turned to lead the way. Obi-Wan felt the slightest twinge of guilt, and so he reached out, catching the boy by the shoulder. "What's wrong, Anakin?"

Suddenly the locked duracrete door that was sealing his bond to Anakin burst open, and Obi-Wan nearly fell to his knees with the level of distress, terror, loneliness, and concern that hit him. Anakin turned to face him, shoving his hand off with the movement, and paced the area, filled with energy. "You were crying. Why were you crying? How do I fix it? I don't… I don't want you to cry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I—just punish me like you're supposed to, like Master would, I promise I'll make it up, I promise—tell me—tell me the next objective, and I—I'll do it right, I won't screw it up—"

Anakin rambled on for some time, stammering, hesitating, jerking his body around as he tried to diffuse everything that was bursting out of his mind and heart. Obi-Wan felt what was left of his frustration diminish, and the emptiness briefly returned. Anakin was an enormous mess, and Obi-Wan felt more ill equipped than ever to handle it. But then he felt sick. He felt so, so sick.

The genuflection. The punishment. Just punish me like you're supposed to, like Master would.

"Anakin." Obi-Wan cut him off, his voice stern, cold, firm. Anakin froze. Obi-Wan took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, trying to unclench his jaw, trying to stop his world from spinning. "Never… never equate me to Palpatine."

Anakin stiffened and swallowed. He could tell he'd made another mistake. But Obi-Wan wasn't angry. He felt disgusted with himself, and was frankly a little hurt that Anakin would ever assume that he would treat him anything like what Palpatine had done, that he would expect him to act that way. Had he already forgotten all their time on Ferrasco and since then? Or did he think it was invalid after his actions?

Obi-Wan was beyond words. He didn't know what else to say. He didn't have the strength to figure it out. He just stared at Anakin, tired and hurt, and he shook his head, looking away. He felt the Force tug at him, felt Anakin open his mouth to say something (probably to apologize for the thousandth time), and he silenced the boy with a look. Walking by him, he began to make his way out of the ship before pausing. He sensed Anakin behind him, watching him uncertainly, and he sighed again.

He supposed it was partly his fault; he'd roughhoused Anakin a little on Imperial Center, but that was just to make sure the man didn't wander off and cause more trouble. He wasn't trying to hurt him. Holding out an arm without looking, he said, "Come here."

He heard Anakin walk towards him slowly, poking their bond, wondering what he was thinking. If Obi-Wan were more cognizant he would consider it a good sign, an indication of being inquisitive instead of reclusive, of respecting Obi-Wan's privacy instead of reading his thoughts. Anakin had long since started to show signs of progress like that anyway.

When Anakin was in reach, Obi-Wan turned to face him and gently took his right hand, pulling him closer. When the young man was directly in front of him, Obi-Wan slowly pulled up the white sleeve (it only occurred to Obi-Wan now that Anakin was wearing some new outfit that he hadn't seen before, and he wasn't sure how the young man had acquired it) of his left arm, all the way up to his shoulder. He squinted in the dim lighting of the hallway, rubbing his fingers over Anakin's upper arm where he'd grabbed him earlier. It was subtle, but they were there.

Bruises.

Exhaling sharply, Obi-Wan let go and looked away. "I'm sorry, Anakin."

The Force shuddered. Confusion, worry, fear. "Why?"

"I… I never meant to hurt you," Obi-Wan explained, feeling his throat choke up again, feeling the dizzying sensation of being so incredibly overwhelmed starting to return. He couldn't do this. He needed Siri. He couldn't do this.

"You thought it was necessary."

Was that an accusation? No. Just a statement. A reassurance. Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut, let the anger rush in and then leave just as quickly. "No. I was scared. I was angry. I was hurt. I took it out on you unnecessarily."

"But… I was at fault."

"Yes. But that doesn't merit hurting you. That never merits hurting you."

The confusion heightened, and Obi-Wan finally looked at Anakin to see him staring at him, looking so utterly lost. "But… that's normal."

"You really think I would hurt you willingly?" Obi-Wan asked, almost brokenly. What had happened? Was this why Anakin had thought it was a good idea to destroy the Empire and Alliance alike? Had he just completely disregarded everything Obi-Wan and Siri had taught him? Did he truly think Obi-Wan didn't care?

Anakin backtracked, realizing he'd hurt Obi-Wan again. He opened his mouth to speak and then seemed to think better of it, shaking his head, his eyes wide.

He was a mess. They both were. Obi-Wan blew out a chuckle. "I certainly hope you're getting along better with Padmé than with me."

The Force warmed as if they were in a sunny summer day. Anakin's face and eyes softened, and he looked down, nodding.

"Do you think she'll hurt you?"

Anakin's eyes snapped back up to meet Obi-Wan's gaze. He looked horrified. He shook his head vehemently. Obi-Wan smiled. "Good. Now go on. I'll catch up."

Anakin shifted uneasily, as if fighting himself. He probably was – Obi-Wan imagined following orders was so automatic he could do it in his sleep. However, he didn't want to follow this command. Obi-Wan didn't sense the desperation and anger that had overcome him before, though. Instead, he sensed worry.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said pointedly, motioning for him to leave.

Anakin shook his head.

Obi-Wan sighed. "What is it, Anakin?"

"You wouldn't leave me."

What? "What are you talking about?"

"When I was hurt. When I was… when I was scared. When I wanted to die. You… you wouldn't leave me."

Obi-Wan faced him fully, crossing his arms, wondering where in the blazes this dizzying conversation was going now.

"I'm not leaving." Anakin said firmly, also crossing his arms, mirroring Obi-Wan's stance but with far more stubbornness.

And then it clicked. Obi-Wan felt his body relax, and he cleared his throat thickly. "Anakin… that isn't necessary."

Anakin glared at him. Apparently, to him, it was.

Obi-Wan was touched, really, but… he was really only comfortable releasing all his stresses and worries to Siri or his mother. Anakin… Anakin relied on him to be calm. If he lost control in front of him… he'd already seen what would happen if Anakin couldn't contain himself.

"Please, Anakin," he tried again, but Anakin only grew more defiant, the Force hardening with resolve.

Taking a deep, firm breath, Anakin walked towards Obi-Wan, uncrossing his arms. Obi-Wan watched him warily, and before he knew it the boy was standing right in front of him, determined and focused. Obi-Wan almost laughed at his expression, wondering if he was expecting some big fight, wondering what he could possibly be concentrating on as he felt Anakin grab the Force roughly. Then suddenly he was engulfed in a hug, but despite the ferocity in the Force, the hold was gentle, though firm. At first Obi-Wan was mildly surprised, but then he smiled sadly and pat Anakin on the back, somewhat reassured that at least something from their time together had stuck. When that didn't deter him, though, Obi-Wan felt the tears return, and he started feeling a little more urgent. He placed his hands on Anakin's ribs to push the boy away and felt the slightest shiver from the boy. Abruptly, he remembered the broken ribs, and he groaned, feeling all the worse. Anakin still refused to let go.

"Blast it, Anakin, I'm fine," Obi-Wan tried to argue weakly, but now his voice was trembling.

He felt hair tickle his face as Anakin shook his head quietly, his hold still absolute. The Force quivered briefly and then tightened again. Obi-Wan hiccupped, and he felt a sob trying to escape, and blast it all he fought to keep it in, but…

He hiccupped again. Cleared his throat. Anakin shifted, trembling. This was hurting him. The Force shuddered. He was trying to fight how it was affecting him, but Obi-Wan knew it was bothering him. He debated pushing against Anakin's ribs again, but he couldn't stomach the thought of it.

Then the Force warmed again, and another familiar presence hummed in his mind. Anakin moved slightly, one hand disappearing from Obi-Wan's back, and a smaller one replaced it as he felt Padmé join the hug. When had—where had—?

He couldn't hold it in anymore.

Shuddering, Obi-Wan finally let the admission out, finally let the tears fall. It was blessedly brief, but enough, and after a few hitched breaths he felt infinitely lighter, certainly well enough to get himself together. Gasping for air, he pat both Anakin and Padmé to indicate he was alright. Both finally stepped away, and Obi-Wan wiped away the tears, trying to clear his vision. Padmé was watching him with worry and love, a small reassuring smile tugging at her lips, while Anakin stood a few paces back, swallowing hard, pale, but still examining him as if to see if the hug was enough. Obi-Wan almost laughed – he could imagine Anakin was calculating how long a hug was supposed to be to transfer the proper calming vibes that people seemed to use.

Swallowing, he finally pieced himself back together. "Let's go, shall we?"

Smiling fully now, Padmé nodded and led the way down the landing ramp. The stench of Nar Shaddaa hit Obi-Wan suddenly, drying his eyes and throat instantly, but the warmth from their embrace was still with him. Glancing back, he motioned with his hand for Anakin to follow, and the boy finally seemed satisfied and approached. Laying his hand on Anakin's back, he rubbed reassuring circles briefly, tried to relay calm through the Force, and walked alongside him. He felt Anakin's muscles relax slightly under his hand, and the trio walked into the open night air, at peace.

Siri groaned.

There was so much to sort through. She sighed as she tapped her right foot on the ground incessantly. She was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall in the hidden crew quarters above the main deck on The Invariant Beauty. She and Al had left almost immediately after he'd arrived. Siri blew out a breath, reviewing everything.

Master Shaak Ti had, upon becoming head of the Jedi Council, learned of Master Yoda's survival and had gone to find him, which had led her to the Corellian fleet that had been slowly forming since Senator Bel Iblis had gone into hiding. The Alliance had been unaware because Bel Iblis didn't want to compromise his own fleet and the Rebels in case one or the other was attacked. The Jedi Council had sent a message to Master Ti to tell her of the mission to Imperial Center, but had originally gotten no response. When Bel Iblis and Yoda finally made contact with Ghanu'jivo, Senator Organa had quickly briefed them on the situation and they'd divided their forces.

Imperial Center... the mission...

The mission was technically a failure. They hadn't taken hostages, hadn't ended the war, hadn't eliminated all the threats. Reports indicated that the data spikes didn't work the way they were supposed to and that the Jedi weren't immune to the effects of the gases they'd released in the senate building – which apparently had been dioxis, a lethal agent, instead of a sedative.

This plan had been Anakin's. So everyone knew the failure was his as well. Or, rather, they suspected it wasn't a failure at all to him – it was an assassination attempt.

It was impossible to talk to Aya Rubar, the only other person who would know the truth; she had died, along with her unborn child, in the attack on the enclave. That just left Anakin, who Siri almost reported missing until she heard the entire debriefing of the mission from the security and generator teams immediately after their return. Despite her own internal panic over Obi-Wan and Padmé's apparent absence, Siri had kept her mouth carefully shut after that, even while being interrogated by Alliance and Jedi forces alike since she had been in charge of looking after him.

And then Al had returned. The Jedi strike team had consisted of fifty Jedi—all their remaining masters (except for Shaak Ti) and most of their knights. Five had returned.

She wasn't sure if the attack on Ghanu'jivo was part of Anakin's plan… she didn't even know what Anakin's plan was. She figured he'd sabotaged the mission on purpose, but for the life of her she couldn't figure out why he would willingly do so when he knew Obi-Wan and Padmé were going to be in the chaos. Unless, of course, he'd tracked them down and tried to get them to go along with it. She imagined that must have gone well.

Stupid boy. Stupid, kriffing, idiotic, asinine, moronic—

Siri bit her lip. She was livid. But it wasn't just at him. She was angry at herself. I swear, when I see that idiot I'm handcuffing him to myself and he's not getting out of my sight for the next decade.

Upon Al's return, the Jedi had reported in that they'd taken control of the situation briefly when Obi-Wan had transmitted information about explosives (which Siri could only imagine had something to do with Anakin – that meant Obi had established contact with him). The Corellian fleet had helped take care of the rest in the chaos that ensued, and Imperial Center, miraculously, had been cleared of most Imperial military activity. Of course, there was still the local security force and Intelligence, and there was little reason to actually hold the capital, and so the Rebels had departed as quickly as they had arrived. Imperial Center was no longer the seat of power in the Empire. It was an anarchistic nightmare. But the teams had returned relatively unscathed, the Jedi having taken the brunt of the damage, but in the end, every freighter captain that had brought them to the capital had come back to Ghanu'jivo with whatever surviving passengers they had.

Except for Obi-Wan, Padmé, and Anakin.

Al had said they would escape on their own. He'd said they'd seemed stressed and eager to avoid attention. Siri could figure out why. Only a fool couldn't – even Al, who didn't fully understand the situation, knew that Anakin was likely the cause of the entire problem. Siri was just grateful Obi-Wan had called when he did – she had just been getting the report from Al and was on the verge of panicking when her comlink had gone off.

Obi-Wan had sounded so tired when she'd talked to him, and then naturally frantic when he'd found out about the attack. But… he'd sounded alive and healthy. And for now, that was all Siri cared about. They would sort out everything else when she and Al met up with the group.

Siri took a slow, calming breath, ignoring the dull ache in her right arm, right ankle, and left shin. Her shin had the worst damage, having been hit directly by a blaster bolt. Luckily the heavy boot that she wore (supplied to her on Hoth to endure the landscape and cold) took a fair amount of the damage, at least preventing the plasma from shattering her tibia entirely. Instead she was left wearing a bacta infused cast that she had to change out every twenty-four hours for the next two days and put as little weight on it as possible. Her arm was simply grazed and bandaged, and her ankle was thankfully only mildly strained. Despite everything, she had come out pretty unscathed in comparison to most.

What were they going to do? Siri was still trying to sort everything out. By all accounts of the Jedi, it seemed like the majority of the Imperial senate was dead. From what she'd heard of the space battle over Imperial Center, the Empire's fleets had scattered into remnants of their former power. The Empire wasn't defeated, but it most certainly was weakened, so that was at least something, especially now that the Alliance was stronger than ever. But the Jedi's numbers were unimaginably decreased – the Council was gone (yet again, since they had been eliminated during the attack on Palpatine as well) and there were roughly twenty Jedi Knights and Masters left in the entire Order. Padawans and younglings alike had been slaughtered in the assault on Ghanu'jivo, and Siri was fairly certain she heard a head count of around fifty Jedi left living in total. The Alliance and the Jedi alike were demanding to know where Anakin was, and Siri had all but fled Ghanu'jivo after constantly denying knowing anything about his location. She hadn't even bothered to say more than hello and glad you're in one piece to Qui-Gon, who had looked understandably haggard upon his return. She'd just gone straight to Al, then talked to Obi-Wan, then ran like hell.

What a mess.

"Hey."

Leaning her head against the wall, she turned it to look at Al, who she had sensed enter moments before he'd spoken. The smuggler watched her with concern, shifting his weight from what foot to another before settling on the ground beside her.

"You okay?" he asked.

Siri snorted. She didn't even have an answer for that.

"Yeah, dumb question, I guess," Al sighed, tapping his cranial horns against the wall before looking at her again. "The Naberrie family…?"

"They're fine," Siri said reassuringly. "Once I woke up properly they were the first people I tracked down. Jobal's a quivering disaster and Ryoo is petrified, but everybody else is taking it pretty well."

"Poor kid…" Al muttered, glancing at his lap. "What a day."

Siri looked at him worriedly. "You haven't slept yet?"

"When would I get a chance to sleep?" Al questioned.

"Now?"

"I took the shortest path. We'll be there in like five minutes."

Siri folded her arms across her chest. "We've been in hyperspace for three hours and you haven't even taken a nap?"

"Do you feel like sleeping? Can you shut your brain up right now?"

Siri sighed. No, she couldn't. The only reason she'd gotten any rest was being knocked unconscious on the landing pad (she was still wondering how Yoda had managed to save her from that, but she was infinitely grateful) and being put to sleep by the Grand Master of the Order.

"We could've won. We could've ended the war," Al remarked, staring at nothing in particular, shaking his head. "I knew it was too good to be true."

"I think deep down we all did," Siri groaned. "We were just too optimistic to say anything."

"I said something."

Siri had to laugh at that. "I'm sure you did."

The two listened to the hum of the hyperdrive for the remainder of the flight, and then they finally reached their destination. Al slid down the ladder to go to the cockpit while Siri grumbled under her breath as she gently stood and made her way down to the main floor. She clung to the ladder, trying to avoid putting much weight on either leg but unable to slid down with just her arm strength to hold her. Eventually she gingerly made it to the sofa and strapped in just in time to hear the roar of the atmosphere engulf the ship. Obi-Wan had sent coordinates for their specific location – Al had said they were staying close to the Promenade. That at least meant they were somewhere relatively safe and less poisonous.

They had gone here to hide, and Siri and Al both knew it. She remembered when she and Obi-Wan had considered hiding from the Alliance while they were staying on Ferrasco. She'd much rather have done it then than now – at least if they'd left back then Anakin wouldn't have had the chance to practically obliterate the Jedi Order.

Because to be honest, that was what was bothering Siri the most. To be honest, she didn't really care all that much if most of the senate had died. They were all conniving, selfish idiots who only cared about amassing more power. The ones who had cared had long since left or been executed. The only concern she held for any of those people were the ones from her own sector. She hoped Rekk at least got out.

The Beauty shook as the landing gear made contact with the hangar deck. Al shuffled into the room from the cockpit. "Ready to go?"

Grabbing the crutches that she'd left by the sofa, Siri rose. "Yep."

The two descended the landing ramp, and Siri grimaced at the smell hit her. She'd forgotten how awful the pollution was here. It was around 0300 local time, so Al rested his hand on his blaster for the entire walk while Siri hobbled beside him, growing steadily more frustrated with having to use crutches. Al paid for a taxi to take them to the hotel, and Siri was thankful it was a closed cockpit speeder so she could at least attempt to breathe less toxic air for a while.

They rode in silence, their minds too filled with thoughts to maintain any kind of conversation. Not to mention Al was no doubt exhausted, and Siri was overwhelmed. She hoped the answers Obi-Wan would provide were good ones.

When they arrived at their destination, Siri had to do a double take. The hotel had an armada of air scrubbers around it and an almost imperceptible dome that covered the floating structure. Upon entering the dome, Siri was hit with the smell of plants and water, and she saw pools, fountains, gardens, and birds flying around. It was as if she'd stepped into an entirely different world.

Al whistled. "This is one of the casino hotels. How did they get this?"

Siri could imagine how. Shaking her head, she pressed ahead, and the two attempted to enter the large ornate lounge when they were stopped by security. Just as Siri was about to practice lightsaber katas with her crutches, she sensed her husband approaching. Immense relief flooded her - Force it was good just to see him alive and okay, even if she'd already known that was the case. She motioned to him so they would let her and Al pass.

When the pair finally were allowed into the enormous lounge, Siri hobbled towards her husband, whose expression had quickly morphed into concern upon seeing her.

Obi-Wan hastily eliminated the space between them with a few large steps, putting his hands on her shoulders. "You said you were alright."

"I am," she insisted. "Just a little banged up. Are you okay?"

Obi-Wan seemed at a loss for words, examining her from head to foot. Eventually he nodded and his gaze moved to Al. "And you?"

"I've had better days, but physically, yeah, I'm fantastic." Al sighed. "Just kriffing tired."

Siri got her husband's attention with a poke. "Do you have a room?"

Obi-Wan nodded, leading the group, and they took the lift to the fifth floor. Siri's leg was starting to throb painfully by the time they reached their destination, but the pain was forgotten as soon as she entered, as soon as she sensed Padmé and Anakin.

"Siri!"

Siri smiled in relief as Padmé ran to her. "You okay, Padmé?"

"Are you? Look at you, you're—"

"I'm fine," she reassured her. "Now does someone want to tell me what the hell happened?"

"You should sit down first," Obi-Wan insisted, motioning towards the bed closest to her. Siri sighed, impatient, but acquiesced. She glanced around the room, which was styled like a standard two bed hotel room, and her eyes settled on Anakin, who was snuggled under the covers in the other bed, but his eyes were wide open as he watched her carefully. His presence in the Force was muted, held tight. She didn't know what to make of it, but she felt her own frustration start to bubble forth, though she bit her lip and waited to hear the story first.

After settling, she watched everyone else expectantly. Padmé shifted as if she were going to speak, but Anakin, sitting up and leaning against the backboard, opened his mouth first. "I created the mission in an attempt to eliminate the Alliance and the Jedi. My plan was to assassinate the governor, ensure the Jedi's destruction, take the throne, and then lead the Empire in an assault against the Alliance."

Al swore harshly. "I knew it, I kriffing knew it!"

As soon as his exclamation came forth, though, his energy died down, as if he suddenly remembered who he was talking to, though his anxiety about the Empire and Anakin in general was overwhelmed enough by his anger that he didn't quite back down. As for Siri… she didn't know what to say. She'd suspected this was the case. It was why she was upset. But hearing it from him…

"We managed to talk him out of it," Obi-Wan continued before anybody could come to any other conclusions.

Siri snorted. She'd figured that was the case – why else would they be here? If they'd failed at talking Anakin out of his mission, well… they would either have fled from him, returning with the other Alliance forces or… or worse. She wouldn't think about the other option. She didn't even think Anakin, despite all his confusion and mixed emotions, would sink that low. Not again. Not without someone like Palpatine to order him to.

"He helped everyone escape," Padmé explained. "That's how Al got out, how the Jedi got out, how we got out."

"Fat lot of good that does them now," Al muttered darkly, crossing his arms.

Anakin slowly got out of the bed, staring at Siri tentatively. Having his eyes on her gave her energy, and she suddenly rose, ignoring the crutches and walking towards him. He didn't flinch, facing her fully, his expression somewhere between shame, dread, and resignation. Siri felt her arm tense and she fought with all her might to stop herself from smacking him.

She'd held out the smallest hope that she hadn't jumped to the right conclusion the entire way here. But she'd known. She'd known ever since he'd gone missing. Anger swelled in her, and she blew out a breath, grabbing Anakin by his tunic and slamming him against the wall. She sensed Obi-Wan and Padmé take a hasty step forward, she sensed Al reach for his blaster, unsure what to do. Anakin stared at her, not the mess of emotions he'd been on Ferrasco, nor the broken disaster from Hoth, nor the confused and timid shell from Naboo, nor the radioactive time bomb from Ghanu'jivo. He held resolve. He held resignation. He looked like he was expecting her to hit him and he was perfectly willing to accept it.

Siri let him go. She took a few hasty breaths to control herself, to get her anger in check, to blink the tears out of her eyes. "Why did you betray us?"

She already knew the answer before he said it. "I never intended to betray you. My mission was to eliminate the Alliance and the Jedi. My mission was to help you."

Help? Help? What the hell made him think that doing what he'd done would help them? Siri grew furious and then looked away. Stupid, lost, kriffing fool!

He'd been saying it ever since Ferrasco. She'd been an idiot to take him to Ghanu'jivo. They all had. But they'd all wanted to help the family, to stay with Padmé, and Siri had to bitterly admit that she had been more than eager to rejoin the fray while Obi-Wan had been the most hesitant. He wasn't the type to give an I told you so speech, but she definitely deserved to hear it.

"The Alliance is stronger than ever," Siri retaliated with only a mild bite.

Anakin blinked, the Force rippling, his body tensing for a moment, and then he looked away.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Padmé said, making Siri stare at her like she'd grown another head. What?

"We're leaving the war," Padmé explained determinedly.

Siri blinked. They were… they were what? Since when? After the damage they had just caused, Padmé just expected them to bow out, to not make up for their mistake?

Padmé seemed to detect Siri's growing indignation and elaborated, "We're leaving the war." She motioned to herself and Anakin. "Not you two."

Abruptly, Anakin blurted out, "You're still fighting?"

Siri looked at him to see him staring at Obi-Wan. Her husband walked over to him, causing Siri to take a few steps away and heavily sit on the bed once more as the weight of the situation truly sank in.

Obi-Wan placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "Yes, Anakin. Siri and I have to help."

Anakin's face was taut. Then he sighed, looking down. "I understand."

Obi-Wan's thumb traced a wrinkle on Anakin's tunic, his knuckles pressing into the boy's shoulder. "No, you don't. But you will someday. Trust me."

Anakin bit his lip, still staring at the floor.

"Can I talk to you guys in the hall?" Al said loudly, motioning towards the door.

Rising and grabbing her crutches, Siri made her way to the smuggler first while Obi-Wan led Anakin back to bed. Padmé walked alongside her sister-in-law, and the two exchanged silent glances. This was likely a compromise Padmé had come up with, and Siri didn't know what to make of it. On the one hand, it made sense – Anakin was too dangerous to remain anywhere near the Alliance, and they would now want him dead. As for Padmé, her main role within the Alliance had been to spy in the senate, which was no longer an issue. Not to mention the galaxy thought she was dead. So really, unless she wanted to become a soldier, her mission was finished. But what were they going to do? They couldn't just ignore what Anakin had done.

When everyone went out, Al hastily shut the door and whirled on them. "Look, I get it. He's mentally unwell and all that. But guys… he almost singlehandedly destroyed the Alliance. Hell, he almost destroyed the Empire! And the Jedi? There's less than fifty of them now. You know how many there were when this all started? Like two hundred, maybe even more than that! They've had a 75% decrease in numbers because of him and the emperor! And you're just going to let him get away with it?"

"We're not letting him get away with it," Padmé corrected him firmly, her eyes determined. "We're getting him away from it. He won't be able to hurt anyone, and he can sort himself out."

Siri wanted to laugh. Sort himself out? That would take a miracle. They'd been trying to do that.

Well. To be honest it had been going pretty well until the Alliance had reentered the equation. Padmé's move made perfect sense and was actually pretty kriffing reasonable. Siri just didn't feel right not administering some kind of justice. Anakin had done so much damage today—yesterday. Whatever.

"He can sort himself out in a mental hospital for the criminally insane!" Al argued, waving his right arm in a sharp sweeping motion. "I mean, what are you guys teaching him by covering for him? That it's okay?"

"He knows it's not okay," Obi-Wan said firmly, his voice dark, his eyes stormy. He wasn't upset at Al; this was the remnants of a deeper anger that Anakin had likely stirred up when they were initially dealing with the fallout.

"But he did it anyway!" Al rebutted, his own anger clear in his tone.

Obi-Wan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Al, I understand your frustration. Believe me. And I agree, a mental institution would probably be best."

Padmé jumped. "Obi-Wan—"

"But," Obi-Wan continued, pointedly looking at Padmé to silence her argument. "The Alliance will kill him if he returns. And there's no way we could get him help – that would require paperwork, would link him to the Empire, would attract everyone's attention. This is our only option."

Al stared at him, his mouth opening for a rebuttal when he found none, and he sighed heavily in resignation. The hall was silent for a few moments as everyone processed the situation. Eventually, Al looked at Padmé. "So what are you guys going to do?"

Padmé shook her head, mulling the issue over. "I don't know. I… we obviously need to lay low. I don't want the family to think I'm dead again, though. They don't deserve to go through that."

"I'll inform them when we return," Obi-Wan said softly.

Return. When they returned. Siri's head was spinning. She was still trying to catch up with all the events, still trying to wrap her head around the conclusion that they'd come to, and now they were already talking about going back. She would be interrogated by the Jedi once more – she and Obi-Wan would be the ones to take the brunt of the anger, the hurt, the confusion, the mistrust. They would be the ones to take the fall for Padmé and Anakin. She felt exhausted at the prospect.

"You're going to tell them everything?" Padmé questioned.

Obi-Wan stroked his beard, his brow furrowing. "I don't know. The less they know the better, but…"

He trailed off, unsure what to do. Siri leaned against the wall, her head spinning, but she said, "Maybe we'll tell them after they return to Naboo."

Everyone looked at her. She glared at them as if it were obvious. "They have to return to Naboo. The Rebels are going to have to move. Ghanu'jivo is compromised. Speaking of which, Anakin—"

"Had nothing to do with it," Obi-Wan immediately said, knowing where she was going with that statement. "I already asked."

Siri blew out a breath. At least that was something.

"I guess they're safe to go home? Tarkin's not an issue anymore." Al muttered, but then he shook his head. "But with you two still part of the Alliance…"

"One scare was enough," Siri said firmly, brooking no argument. "They don't need to be with the Alliance anymore. They almost died."

Padmé and Obi-Wan both shuddered at the thought.

Al groaned, suddenly looking dejected. "I don't get it. Rubar… she… what did she have to gain in all this? We were helping her."

Everyone thought about it a moment. Siri knew nothing about the woman, really. She'd only seen her right before her death.

"She must have wanted revenge against Tarkin," Al surmised. "Against the Empire. They got her husband killed. We got her husband killed."

Revenge. Once upon a time she'd wanted that against the Empire. Now she knew better. It never ended well. Siri sighed.

Returning to the issue at hand, Padmé said, "If the family goes home, then maybe I can give them the full disclosure when they get there."

The group stared at her. Obi-Wan blurted out, "You're going to Naboo?"

Padmé nodded, her eyes bright as she formulated a plan. "We could stay at Varykino. The Alliance will never know."

Al piped in with a huff, "Yeah, because Vader killed all their Naboo operatives months ago. But what about the Empire?"

"I doubt they even have a presence on Naboo at this point, given the circumstances," Padmé reasoned with a shrug.

Obi-Wan shifted uneasily. "I'm not sure about this."

Siri, however, backed up Padmé. "Obi, we were going to hide there after we fled Ferrasco, remember?"

Obi-Wan sighed, relenting. No one seemed to know what else to say at that point, so eventually Padmé shuffled towards the door. "Come on. Check out is at 1400. Let's get some sleep."

Al shook his head. "I'll go sleep on the Beauty."

"Al—"

"No," he said firmly. "I—I don't like this. I don't agree with this. I'll be on the Beauty. When you're ready to go, come find me."

With a shake of his head, Al departed. Siri watched him go, still not entirely sure how to feel. She needed to talk to everyone individually. But she definitely wasn't calm enough to talk to Anakin alone yet. Would she even have time to?

Padmé was right. They should rest. But…

Siri felt Obi-Wan's hand on her shoulder. She closed her eyes, leaning into the touch. She felt so drained. She felt so lost. She felt so overwhelmed. But Obi-Wan standing beside her was enough, and it filled her with strength and warmth. She wasn't going to think about it anymore. She was going to trust Padmé. She was going to trust Obi-Wan. She steadily moved closer towards her husband and the two hugged, standing in the hallway for an eternity.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Siri whispered into his chest.

Obi-Wan held her tighter. "And you two."

Siri smiled, basking in the comfort, smelling the subtle trace of cologne mixed with sweat and dirt that was smeared into her husband's shirt.

"What do you think?" she asked softly. About Anakin? About all of this?

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "I think he finally made his choice."

Siri pulled away enough to look Obi-Wan in the eye. Made his choice?

Obi-Wan smiled. "I think he finally knows what he wants… and he's going for it."

Siri squinted for a moment, processing the statement, and then she realized what he meant. Anakin was here. Anakin had stopped his plans. Obi-Wan and Padmé hand singlehandedly saved the entire galaxy from Anakin's revenge. Anakin was here.

It would all work out. Siri didn't know how, but it would. Anakin's demeanor was far different now, calmer, somber, like he realized his mistake, like it finally sank in to that thick skull of his that his best option was to listen to them. Like he'd finally made his choice. Like he finally truly understood how much he was loved.

It will all work out.

Back in the room, Padmé settled in the bed closest to the door, staring at Anakin, who gazed at her in silence, under the covers of the other bed once more. She offered a small smile, and his expression softened.

It will all work out.

Al paced aboard the Beauty, restless, angry, hurt, and terrified, and then he stopped, standing in the center of his bedroom, worn out. He slowly made his way to his bed.

It will all work out.

Obi-Wan and Siri reentered the room fully, closing the door behind them. Siri climbed into bed with Padmé and the two hugged again, whispering relieved expressions, smiling and sighing and settling in to sleep. Obi-Wan slid into bed beside Anakin, who watched him before slowly curling in towards him, allowing Obi-Wan to rest his hand over his own.

It will all work out.

Everyone breathed a collective breath as peace finally descended upon them and slumber took hold.

It will all work out.