A Few Months Later…

Months have passed since the deadly Blue Shadow Virus. The Temple settles and begins to move on after the death of Siri Tachi. Her once-lover Obi-Wan Kenobi and his padawan Anakin Skywalker are coming home from a dangerous mission on Felucia when Skywalker receives terrifying news…

Anakin wasn't quite sure if he had ever flown fast enough to Coruscanti Med. He was sure he caused at least one accident and maybe there was a police officer chasing him - but usually once the license plate of a Jedi was read, police left him alone.

He all but screeched into the Emergency Landing, shaking and about to vomit. He knew if he worried more he'd send himself into a seizure but -

God, what if Padmé -

No no nope no.

Exhaling a shaky breath and ignoring the stabbing pain in his lungs, Anakin jumped out of the speeder. Rain splashed onto his cloak, though he barely noticed.

"Sir -" the security officer at the door started before staring in shock.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He hadn't planned this. There were too many people around, too many that could overhear -

"Anakin!"

Anakin glanced passed the security guard, breathing a sigh of relief. "Gregor."

"Master Skywalker is with us," Gregor answered smoothly before the security guard could open his mouth. He took Anakin by the elbow, moving him into the hospital and the emergency room. A few people glimpsed them - some gasped, a camera flashed - but they moved through the doors quickly, sidestepping doctors and nurses that tried not to appear to shocked that Anakin Skywalker was walking through the halls.

"What the hell happened?"

"They're trying to figure it out - calm down, Anakin, she's stable, just in massive pain. Dormé called an ambulance, they brought her in from the Nubian Embassy six hours ago. She stopped vomiting about two hours ago, receiving fluids too."

"There...the paz…"Anakin ran a shaking hand through his hair - God, when did it become so long - and nodded. "Can I - is anyone allowed in?"

Gregor cracked a grin, stopping before a door at the end of the hallway "You are the spouse."

Trying to smile, Anakin received the clap on the back and turned to the door. It whooshed open, the air warm. It was always disorienting coming back to Coruscant, even more so when he met her at the hospital instead of their bed.

He stood there for a moment, taking in the small but sterile room. Some drawings of cartoonish animals on the walls, a tiny window, the consistent beat of a heart-rate monitor, the lump in the bed that was Padmé Amidala Naberrie Skywalker.

There was a comlink on the bedstand beside her, a holo talking quietly while she lay on her left side, eyes closed and curled in pain.

Not announcing his presence, Anakin walked to the bed and took the chair beside it. He smiled when she stretched out a hand, grasping it tightly. An IV was stuck in the crook of the elbow.

"Anakin," Ruwee Naberrie muttered while inclining his head. "You made it."

"I did - traffic held me up."

The corners of Padmé's lips twitched.

"Mmm...well Padmé - let me know."

Padmé nodded, then grimaced while the comm fizzled out. She withdrew her hand from his, rubbing at her nose.

"That bad?"

"Mmm... probably kidney stones."

Anakin sighed, listening to the agitator whir gently. He knew that it was impossible to hear from the bedchamber - there was no reason to wonder if anyone would wake up from the noise.

"Not like Padmé will anyway," he muttered, stopping the agitator just before dinged. He poured the water into the mug, watching the condensed milk and the chocolate froth. Taking a spoon from a drawer, he sat at the table and sighed.

The lights suddenly flicked on. Anakin squinted, glancing up at the silhouette in the doorframe.

"Anakin?"

"Gregor?"

The captain of the Nubian Senate guard gave a huff of laughter, rubbing a hand over his temples. "Sorry sir - didn't realize you were up. I heard noise and thought I'd investigate."

Anakin cracked a smile. "Understandable. I would have done the same thing." He gestured behind him. "Hot cocoa if you want it."

"Can't sleep?" Gregor asked, dimming the lights to something bearable and heading to the countertop.

"That's one way to put it," Anakin murmured, sipping at his drink. He set the mug down, staring at his mechanical hand and then at the Captain when he sat. "It's...hard, coming back home. Remembering everything."

"Watching her be in pain."

Anakin nodded, folding his arms on the table and letting out a heavy sigh. He wasn't one to open up - his mom had always told him to express his emotions, but Obi-Wan was practically an emotionally stunted sentient . He gave too much information or not enough, never able to do something normal without making a scene.

"I forget what it's like," he decided on saying. "I feel so...helpless. Out of the loop. Ever felt like that?"

"Only when you two decided to get married."

He glanced up in shock, only to realize Gregor is smiling into his drink. Anakin rolled his eyes, wrapping his flesh hand around the mug. "Okay, I deserved that. How long have you been waiting to make that joke?"

"Only a year and change."

"Hilarious, Gregor."

Gregor shook his head before sighing and putting the mug on the table. "My husband has epilepsy - a different kind than you do. I...know what it's like, coming home and not feeling like you belong."

"Husband? The guy who works in the Nubian embassy, right? The linguist?"

"Thomas. It's pretty manageable now but...it's hard, watching your spouse suffer and not know what to do."

Anakin watched the steam curl in the air, suddenly feeling exhausted and old. "Sometimes I wish it was just epilepsy. Then Mé-Mé could have an implant put in and boom! Seizures gone."

"That's not how implants - "

"Let me have my fantasies, Gregor. I need them tonight."

Gregor gave a snort while they fell into silence. He looked out the window, tapping his fingers against his mug. "You know...Ser Naberrie was contacting Padmé every day she was in the hospital."

"Was he?" Anakin muttered, feeling himself tense up. He'd been home four days, with Padmé in the hospital until last night when she was released. His time was split between Coruscanti Med and the Temple, with only a few stops at the apartment to pick up things like clothes, flimsiwork, etc.

"Guess Sabé told him - the whole family." Gregor held a hand up when Anakin began to interject. "Padmé was rushed from the Senate Anakin. It was probably to prevent them from believing the worst of the rumors."

Anakin deflated, bowing his head and giving a lofty sigh. He didn't know what to expect anymore...what more could life toss at them? The weird part though...was that when Padmé had the mild surgery to remove the kidney stones...he wasn't even nervous. Well nervous, but not overly racked with fear. This life was becoming normal.

"You have to at least give them updates Anakin...at least when Padmé cannot."

"What's the point of privacy then?"

"There's a difference between privacy and being a decent human being."

Anakin stared at the table a moment, then snorted and looked at the captain of the guard. "I should replace you."

Gregor chuckled, raising his mug. "To health then."

"To health," Anakin echoed, clinking his mug against Gregor's. "To health."

Obi-Wan blearily focused on the spread before him when he stumbled into the rest of the apartment. Waffles, fruit, syrup, cereal, tea… Ahsoka was seated at the kitchen table, happily eating a plate of bacon drizzled in syrup. She grinned the his bewildered expression, waving while she continued to shove her face.

"You made this?"

Anakin turned from where he was washing dishes, giving the table a once over. "Mm hmm - woke up early, couldn't sleep."

"Ah...so you decided to cook us breakfast?"

"Problem?"

Obi-Wan glanced at his former padawan, startled at the animosity he was receiving. "No - no, Anakin." He forced a smile, and sat down in his usual seat. When was the last time he'd eaten a proper meal? Maybe just before Siri died...he had mostly slept when they came back from Felucia...had that really been a week ago? "You haven't cooked in awhile - it threw me a bit."

Anakin scrutinized him for a moment, then shook his head and turned back around. "I tinkered with one of the recipes - replaced the milk with yogurt - hopefully it tastes okay."

Ahsoka - still with a mouthful of bacon - stabbed her fork at one of the waffles and dragged it to her table.

"Ahsoka," Obi-Wan chided quietly, filling his plate slowly.

"What?" She asked upon swallowing, giving a toothy grin. "Togrutans are carnivores."

"Without table manners?"

Ahsoka squinted at him, then snickered when she realized he was teasing her. She gave an overdramatic nod, shifting into an overly correct posture. "I'm so sorry, Master Kenobi - please, excuse me rudeness this morn."

Obi-Wan snorted into his tea. "I'm regretting letting you attend Master Windu's playwright lecture."

"Nah, I was imitating SkyGuy's soaps."

From the sink, Anakin flicked a bit of water towards Ahsoka. "Very funny."

Obi-Wan shook his head in amusement, not failing to notice the heavy bags under Anakin's eyes. He took a bite of the waffle, chewing slowly before saying, "Anakin, come join us. It's only fair a creator should enjoy his creations."

Anakin gave a lengthy sigh, finishing the dish was washing before striding to the caf maker. "Ahsoka - want some caf?"

"Sure!"

"Anakin, she's fourteen."

"You were an alcoholic at 15." Anakin slumped down in his seat and passed Ahsoka her mug. He didn't reach for any food immediately, instead sipping at his caf. "I heard you cancelled class today."

"Hmm? Oh right." Obi-Wan shrugged, continuing to eat methodically. "Just the afternoon ones - figured they deserved a treat. They've been working hard."

"But you didn't cancel mine yesterday" Ahsoka grumbled. "6am is way too early."

"I apologise that you decided to take the class."

"It's a requirement!"

Obi-Wan chuckled, continuing to eat. He listened to them bickering, feeling a sense of familiarity wash over him. It'd been a long time since they'd say like this, eating and simply...being.

He glanced at Anakin, whom was silently sipping caf. How strange, that it took a war to sober the young man.

Well...sober wasn't the right word. Anakin rarely drank or even smoked. Sure, he drank caf like it was water but…

Something...well, it wasn't quite right these past few months. There was a rarely a night when Anakin was at the Temple, stumbling in for meetings and classes, absolutely exhausted, muttering to Aayla, having a tenuous working relationship with Mace...

" - shit!" Ahsoka was mumbling, shoving a piece of waffle in her mouth and standing, yanking a jacket from her chair.

"Language," Obi-Wan muttered out of habit, staring at Anakin's hand.

Is that a...wedding ring?

"Bymastersthanksforbreakfast!" Ahsoka was yelling over her shoulder, flinging on her knapsack while she bolted out of the apartment.

They watched her leave, nearly running into Shaak Ti coming out her apartment across the hall.

"She's late for my class," Shaak murmered, watching the padawan. "I'm late for my - Anakin, that smells delicious."

"How do you know I didn't make it?" Obi-Wan asked, only to receive disbelieving looks. He held his hands in mock surrender and continued to eat.

"Do you want me to put leftovers in your fridge?" Anakin asked, already standing.

"Thank you Anakin."

Anakin nodded, puttering around the kitchen, chatting to Shaak To before she left, humming along to the radio he flicked on, covering a heaping plate of food and bringing it across the hall.

Obi-Wan stared at the end of the table, where a satchel lay. He heard Anakin outside the apartment, talking to Aayla Secura. Quietly, he reached over, digging around it it and extracting a pile of credits.

"Hopefully this is enough to buy a datapad," he muttered to himself.

Author's note: Does this story end just hours before "Secrets of the Negotiator" begins ;) ;) ;) maybe

I enjoyed this story so much - glad you guys stuck it out with me. It started with me coping with some traumatic few months of health scares and doctors, and ended with my life (health wise) evening out drastically. I hope this wasn't too weird for anyone, but I found it very carthic. I know it wasn't long, but how much can you do when introducing a disability besides...well, introduce the disability?

Don't worry, Padmé's disability will play a big role soon in this universe ;)

ii Digestive Reader ii

P.S. I'll edit this tomorrow - I'm whipped. Oh and - thank you so much to the user "Amazing Spectacular Spider Man" - you favorited everyone of my stories while I was having a bad day and I cannot thank you enough for putting me on Cloud Nine. Even if you never read this - much thanks 3