Eclipse

Chapter 29- A Troubled Soul

  While it was technically a mechanical replacement, and therefore felt little to no pain, Anakin had every reason to believe his hand was broken. He grit his teeth almost hard enough for them to shatter in his mouth as her screams tightened her initial vice grip on his own. 

As he sat besides his laborious wife and slowly grew more deaf, Anakin had a few minutes to silently curse himself for putting the extra advanced sensory mechanisms in so that he could graze his wife's soft skin against his cold robotic fingers. He certainly felt her skin now though, as it was now clawing into his own, her nail digging into non-existent flesh as she gave him not even a sliver of the agony she was experiencing. Still, a few times his suppressed yelps slipped past his lips and joined her ear-shattering cries.  

However, he was inclined to surmise that her pain was one thousand times worst than his. If compared, his would be no more than a pinch. So deep was his yearning to do something for her; anything for her other than whisper consolations that it would all be over soon and wipe her sweat glazed forehead with a damp cloth. Perhaps instead of dueling himself to the death, he should have been reading up on the process of birth, because for now, he was completely helpless. 

Helpless. 

He loathed that word in all it's forms of existence. He despised the feelings of vulnerability, weakness... all of which broiled his blood as minutes dragged on into hours and hours went on into twenty-four hours more! He, nor his master waiting around outside, and most importantly Padmé, hadn't gotten a wink of sleep in the last... he wasn't even sure how long he sat in this chair now! His legs were certainly numb. 

The ride from Mustafar had been almost as awful as the planet itself, complete with every few words of apologies and love uttered between the couple were either intruded upon by a very unnerved Jedi master, or the intensifying screeches of a woman in labor.  

It slowly occurred to him as the hours dragged on and contractions threatened to break his hand that Mustafar, coupled with being on the run and his nights occupied with nighttime slaughters, that he was never really aware of began to remind him that he was not in the clear yet. Seriously, when was the last time he slept? A real sleep. One with the sandman singing lullabies and undisturbed by horrible dreams about remnants of Vader's heinous atrocities.   

Speaking of the dark poison that infiltrated his mind, Anakin was hyper aware of the disturbing force presence as he seemed to exude fear, furious anxiety and pure worry for his wife's safety. During the long hours he was granted time to think and brood, and of course, that brought him swiftly back to the last few months. 

It was rather strange he thought, as he bit down on his tongue to keep his own cries to himself. He and Vader were no longer separate entities that raged a war within the walls of his mind, fighting like Hell for control, but he was still so potent. Almost as if should he glance to the side that he would see a flash of a dark cloak and piercing yellow eyes overwhelming with passion of all types. Anger, hatred, fear, jealousy... he was probably using the terms wrong, but he still decreed it 'Vader's doing.' Perhaps it was the safe disconnection he was creating between the mass murderer and the husband he knew himself to be, and it was entirely possible that it was a wusses coping mechanism to deal with all the blood smeared across his hands.  

But, he thought fondly, at least he came to find a balance within himself. 

That still didn't mean he wasn't afraid the nightmare wouldn't come true and he would end up loosing everything he strove to protect. 

However lucky for him, he just got past the vision of her sickeningly gorgeous funeral gown before he was interrupted from his malicious musings.