It was close to dawn on Coruscant. He was soaked with sweat, but shivering cold. He felt like vomiting.

Pulling himself off the bed he stumbled into the 'fresher, turned on the water and started to splash it on his face. His mind continued to race so he gave up, dried himself off, quickly dressed in the dim light and left for the Jedi Temple.

He felt like he was losing his grip on his sanity. The nightmares sometimes felt so real he was afraid they weren't dreams at all. If he'd been tapping into the force like before he'd wonder if these were some kind of premonitions. And the last part…

He shivered. He'd told the Masters about dreaming things that felt like the future, things he dreamed of as a child and, later, a few times as an adult. Things that now felt… close.

This nightmare was different, though. The events in it differed, and most of it felt like the past, present, and future all at once, which didn't even make sense. The only part that was familiar, and that felt like the future, that felt close, closer than ever, was that last part.

Kind words that belie a dark promise. Red light. Pain.

The phantom pain of the dream became a very real ache and Anakin looked down to see he was gripping his right arm, hard. He quickly let go, then cringed and ran his hand a few times over the tunic sleeve where he'd obviously wrinkled the material.

He'd probably be frustrated if he weren't so freaked out. A force user usually needed to take time, effort and much meditation to see into the future. If anything, he was doing the opposite and trying to block the images and feelings out of his mind completely.

He shook his head, but stopped quickly when the woman waiting beside him for the transport shot him a wary look. Just because the Jedi Masters seemed to think his dreams might be visions, of other places or times, that didn't mean they were.

Sometimes a dream was just a dream. Or a nightmare. Whatever.

As the transport carried him over the capitol, the sunrise making the city shine with the light of the new day, Anakin wished (but didn't wish) that he could find a way to close off his dreams, close off the force, like he had as a child.

Try as he might, though, he couldn't seem to repeat whatever it was he'd done before. It was like he'd not only reopened a door, but blasted the mechanism so it could never shut again. Maybe it was because this time he'd actively pulled on the Force, drawing so much into him?

The worst part, he thought, as the transport approached the Temple, was that despite everything that had happened he couldn't bring himself to regret it. He couldn't bring himself to regret finding the Jedi, or learning about the Force.

Yes, he was glad it meant that the people on Tatooine, and maybe other planets, might now get the help they needed, even if the Jedi couldn't find a way to get him back to his tribe safely. That was the deal, and the Jedi were still trying to do what they could. That wasn't what made him ashamed.

What made him ashamed was that even if the Jedi didn't help anyone on Tatooine, even if that wasn't part of it at all, he didn't regret it because by doing it he'd gotten to see Padmé again.

There were people lying in an infirmary because of him, because of his use of the Force, but he couldn't regret it because he'd been able to see her and hold her and talk to her and know her name and that she was out there and real and what kind of monster did that make him?

He entered the Temple, keeping his head low, and made way for the hangar. Once there he headed straight towards an older ship in the back that he worked on occasionally. He hadn't had much time to work on the ships themselves like when he'd first arrived on Coruscant. Over the last few months most of his time in the hangar was spent with the master designer creating the new Jedi Starfighters.

Right now, though, he wanted the solace of working alone and the comfort of working with his hands. Fixing and modifying the little Delta-7 that was hidden away behind a large, rusting shuttle gave him the first. As for the second…

Duelling with Obi-Wan was one thing. The effort it took to hide what was happening, especially from one as in-tune as Obi-Wan, was just as draining as if he were shut off from the Force completely. It wasn't as upsetting because the end result was the same and what he was looking for.

Working with machines, though, had always been Anakin's way of meditating without, well, meditating. And now he didn't even have that, not really, because every time he went to do something the Force just leapt up and did it for him half a moment before he could.

Then he would have to go in and erase the mark of the Force from what he'd just done.

Logically it made no sense. To use the Force to get rid of the Force signature left by using the Force should just leave another Force signature from using the Force to make that removal and so on, a never ending circle.

As long as it worked he didn't care. He just couldn't have anyone know. There'd be questions, and more than that the Jedi Masters would want him to start using it purposefully again.

It was bad enough like this - unable to not use the Force, to have it imbuing every one of his actions, aiding everything he did, without his drawing upon it much less his consent.

He'd noticed it shortly after waking from his last dream-meeting with Padmé. He'd been lying on the cot and a healer had come in to check on him. Anakin had rolled over, not wanting anyone to see that he'd been crying.

Then he heard the healer say from close behind him, "Here you are, then."

He'd turned his head, confused, and saw the Bothan holding a cup out to him.

"What's this?" he'd asked, turning over and taking the proffered container.

"Sapir tea," the young female replied. "I know you only asked for water, but many of us here at the temple find the tea soothing. I thought you might prefer it."

She left before he could think to say, But I didn't ask for water, either.

He had, though, in a way. He'd been thinking just before about how the crying had left him dehydrated and he would have liked some water.

It wasn't until later when he worked that out, after he was allowed to leave the temple and go home. When he was at the apartment that night and the Force started to act without him asking it to.

He'd reach for things only to have them jump into his hand just before he could grab onto them himself. Or the lights would turn on when he was just moving towards a room but not yet in it.

Then, distracted, he stubbed his toe badly, the nail cracked and bleeding. He'd sat down and pressed his fingers to it lightly, trying to feel the extent of the damage, but when he touched his injured foot the pain actually decreased. When he pulled his hands away the crack in the nail was gone, and only the bruising beneath the nail and a nasty ache had remained.

He didn't know much of anything about the Force before he met Obi-Wan, and he still knew very little now, just over a year later. But he was pretty sure this wasn't how the Force normally worked.

So he spent his mornings working with the master designer or on the Delta-7, the Force aiding every step, then used the Force to remove any evidence of the fact that it was involved or that he was accessing it at all and just tried to pretend that this wasn't probably the stuff of weird, mind bend-y paradoxes.

No, he definitely didn't want to draw on the Force actively anymore. If he could do what he was doing now - healing without thought and erasing Force signatures - without even meditating anymore…

Letting it have free reign could be a disaster.

Using it to cover how it helped him in lightsaber training at the same time it was happening, to keep Obi-Wan from detecting that he had it at all, was enough to keep the older man safe. If he wasn't expending energy doing all that, and wasn't exhausted from lack of restorative sleep as well, it might still be okay. He couldn't imagine what would happen if he drew on the Force purposefully, though, to enhance his combat skills.

Anakin blew out a shaky as he put his tools away. He didn't want to imagine.

He couldn't regret the loss, though. He couldn't see her again, not ever, it was too risky. For everyone, her especially. And he had to be careful, so, so careful.

But the people of Tatooine might get help. And maybe he could even find a way to use the Force like it was in him now to help people, too. He just had to remember to be extra careful because he was different. Stang, there was a whole prophecy saying as much!

And those differences made him dangerous. He knew that more than ever, now, but this time he understood that trying to cut out the Force wasn't the answer. He couldn't run from what was a part of him. But he could take responsibility for it, maybe do some good with it, and protect others from it if need be.

Maybe this was the Answer he'd find in his dreams that the prophecy talked about?