Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of Lucasfilm and Disney. I make no money out of this, and I am simply playing in the sandbox that George Lucas created.

Notes: This is a sequel to my story Conditioning, which is an AU. Reading that is recommended, but all you need to know is that:

A) Obi-Wan almost falls; and

B) Vader slips back into Anakin and saves his life for the "fiftieth time" or so he claims.

He was cowering sitting on the floor.

That was the first thing Padmé noticed in the live security holo.

Just like he was when he –

Killed all the Tuskens.

Killed.

It all came back to that word. Anakin (or was he Vader now?) had been broken by what he had done, back on Tatooine.

He had taken great comfort in her voice, and her hugs. He had gotten better.

(Or had he?)

"Padmé."

It was Obi-Wan's voice.

"No," was Padmé's short reply. "I want to – no, I need to talk to him."

"Listen, please," begged Obi-Wan, "Our rebellion depends on you. Palpatine has assumed control of the Galaxy, and –"

"I know what Palpatine's doing, Obi-Wan," Padmé said shortly, her voice suddenly sharp. "But Anakin –"

"Anakin's dead, Padmé. Vader took his place." Obi-Wan did not elaborate further. The conflict in his voice was obvious.

"He saved your life," said Padmé. "After endangering it himself, I know," she added quickly at her friend's pointed glare.

"That act of heroism – if it can be called that – does not give peace to all the spirits of those who died by his hand," he deadpanned.

Padmé had no response to this. Instead she shifted her attention to her swollen belly. She could not wait until her child was born, so that she could hold him in her arms, play with him –

Did Anakin not share a part in the future she envisioned for their child?

He doesn't deserve to, said a voice, he doesn't deserve to, after what he has done.

Obi-Wan sensed her discomfort.

"I know what's bothering you, Padmé. But he tried to kill you once –"

"I know, Obi-Wan. I know." She took a deep breath. "But I think it can't be put off. I need to see what he has become. To tell it to his face that I – I –"

"I understand. I will talk to Bail about this," Obi-Wan said, his voice suddenly soft. And then he left the small room that they used as the Rebel base, leaving her alone.

The first moment when Padmé entered the underground dungeon, she noticed a sort of muffled noise. She didn't know what it was.

"Anakin," she said. "I'm here."

Anakin looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot and hopeless.

"Padmé," he breathed, his chest heaving. "You came."

"I did Ani, of course I did." But she didn't go near the bars that separated the corridor from the cell.

"I'm sor –"

"Ani," she cut off coldly, "we both know an apology won't solve anything. So, please, don't make this any harder for either of us."

Anakin (or what was left of him, anyway) gulped and clutched his legs tighter, but Padmé didn't know whether it was out of frustration or sadness, or a combination of both.

"How is our child?" he asked slowly, carefully.

"He survived," she said shortly, unable to say anything more.

Anakin closed his eyes and buried his head in his arms again. And then Padmé understood where that muffled noise came from. He was crying.

She knew she had to try. "Obi-Wan told me what you said after you saved his life. Fifty times, really?"

Anakin raised his head. "You try and be his Padawan and then we'll see how many times you save his life. I felt like I needed to be paid to be his personal life-saver at one point."

Padmé allowed herself a chuckle.

Then Anakin started laughing.

But it was no longer that charismatic laughter that Anakin Skywalker had been famous for. It was hollow and felt a bit too forced.

He quietened soon after.

"Yoda was here, you know?" Anakin said, after a pause. "I could feel him staring at me. But I couldn't look at him, Padmé. It hurt too much, knowing what I had done."

Padmé knew what was coming.

"I know you can't forgive me Padmé, but please I just need to say this to you:

"I am sorry. There. Done." There was a hint of bitterness in his voice.

She inched slightly forward. "Who are you now? Anakin Skywalker, or Darth Vader? Jedi or Sith? I need answers, Ani. I can't just forgive you for this!"

"I know." And he went back to his silent sobs.

Padmé had said everything she had to say, and yet felt that she needed to stay.

"I know something's bothering you. You can tell me, you know."

He didn't respond.

Padmé didn't expect him to, either way.

She sat there, on a wooden chair for nearly one half-hour before Anakin said anything at all.

"I didn't know I knew their names."

Intrigued, she gently prodded him:

"Sorry?"

"The younglings. Their names, Padmé. They keep haunting me. I can't think without their screams filling my head … I don't know what to do!" he tried to yell, but it came off as a growl.

Good, said a voice in Padmé's head. Remorse is good.

But he's in pain, she tried to reason with the voice. Shouldn't I help him?

When you do bad things, remorse is what makes you human again, Padmé. But Anakin Skywalker will never return. He didn't do bad things. He committed atrocities. He deserves pain.

No, I won't let anyone hurt him, Padmé thought defiantly. Not even himself.

"Anakin," she started but Anakin quickly cut her off.

"No. I know what you're trying to do. Pull me back to the light. I – I can't. Padmé, I'm beyond repair. Please, don't."

She respected his wishes. "I'll be back."

And then, with a swirl of a cloak, she left.

Obi-Wan was waiting in the meeting room for her.

"How is he?"

"Physically – fine. Mentally – bad."

Obi-Wan let out a frustrated sigh. "I wasn't asking for that," he said. "Did he –"

Padmé turned away from him. "He did," she managed. How could she convey what had happened in words? How could she explain to him the kind of mess Anakin had become?

A pregnant pause followed.

And then –

She felt it. Contractions. She turned to look at a concerned Obi-Wan in his eyes. "I think I'm in labour."

"It's a boy," said the monotonous medical droid, after many hours of labour.

Hah, Anakin. Take that. I was right. She allowed herself this small victory. She knew there was another, though.

Obi-Wan held her son close to her.

"Luke," she breathed. Her son. Her Luke. She felt his soft, fragile arm. She felt stronger.

And then she felt it again. Contractions.

Soon after –

"It's a girl."

The droid held her daughter towards her.

"Leia," she whispered.

And then she passed out. The last thing she heard were her children cry.

She woke up a few hours later. Her children were by her bedside, soundly sleeping. They warmed her up from inside out. Made her feel less scared for the future.

Just as she tried to lift herself up into a sitting position, a voice came calling out for her.

It was Anakin.

She turned to face him. But he struggled to walk and his wrists were cuffed. He was guarded by Yoda and Obi-Wan. She snapped back into reality. This was not the Anakin she had married. This was not the Anakin that foolishly tried to show off in a truly teenage fashion. This was not him.

But Queen Amidala had been conditioned to help those in need. Padmé could not forget that.

And so she allowed herself a smile – a particularly strained one, but it was still a smile.

Yoda and Obi-Wan stayed outside, but kept a close eye on Anakin, who staggered weakly towards her.

"I hope you know that we both were right?" she asked. "We have a son and a daughter. But I was right first."

Anakin looked like he wanted to say something, but then he rushed to his children, who slept without a care.

"What are their names?" He whispered softly.

"Luke and Leia," she told him. She could tell him that they were "Luke and Leia Naberrie" later.

He knelt beside her with great difficulty. "How are you? Are you still in pain?"

She shook her head.

Anakin smiled.

It was probably the closest thing to that lopsided grin she was familiar with, but it wasn't close enough.

But then she realised it was a long road to recovery. She decided it was enough for today.

Constructive criticism appreciated. X-posted on tumblr.