Luke came into consciousness slowly, humming at the warmth surrounding him and the cushiony feeling of the mattress dipping underneath him. He couldn't remember the last time he slept so peacefully, the Rebellion only able to provide firm and scratchy cots for their members. In fact, the only time he recalled feeling so safe and pleasant was on the cots on the Millennium Falcon , Han's arm curled around his waist. He could feel it now, the taller man pulling him closer so they could cuddle on the small bed. Lightly, Luke let his eyes flutter open, the fog created from his drowsiness blurring his sight. "Han?" he slurred, watching the tousled brown hair shift on the pillow.

Quickly moving to rub his eyes, Luke squinted in the dim light, finally able to make out the facial features of— "Anakin!" His voice cracked in betrayal, making the name come out in more of a a squeak than a shout.

Blue eyes met his in amusement, still a little dull from lack of sleep. "Who's Han?"

"No one," Luke snapped after clearing his throat. He sat up quickly and took in his new surroundings with bemusement. Padmé was still asleep on one side of him and Anakin was just beginning to rise on the other, still wearing his teasing smirk as he did so. "Wh-why am I in here? I thought I was sleeping on the couch."

Anakin ran a hand through his hair with a yawn, already moving to slide out of bed. "You were. Until you started screaming that is,"

"Screaming?" Luke had no recollection of waking up in the middle of the night. He had had that vicious nightmare and then went right back to the void of unconsciousness. He knew he was a heavy sleeper, but he still thought that someone carrying him into another room would have woken him up. He must've been more tired than he originally thought.

Anakin was tying on his robe in preparation to head to the fresher as he looked Luke up and down, the boy still looking flustered beyond belief. "Yeah. A nightmare. You were calling out for your father," Anakin hesitated as he watched the color leave Luke's face, "But uh, I didn't want to pry. It's probably a personal thing so don't feel obligated to discuss it. Padmé and I just wanted to make sure you got a good night's sleep. Especially after everything that's happened."

Luke nodded dully, glad his mind was at least smart enough to not let loose his true identity while he was asleep. It wouldn't have been easy to explain why Luke was calling Anakin his father in his sleep, especially since, in this specific timeline, Luke was older than Anakin.

"But you never really answered my other question," said Anakin with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Luke gulped. "Why did you think I was someone named Han? A special someone perhaps?"

"Anakin leave the poor boy alone," A sluggish voice said before Luke could even splutter out an answer. He turned to find Padmé sending him a weary smile while shooting daggers at her husband simultaneously. "There's no need for us to know his personal life unless he chooses to enclose it."

"I was only messing with him!" Anakin grumbled, "Besides, he already knows our personal life, what's the difference?"

"The difference is we told him our personal life." A pillow flew through the air and hit Anakin square in the face, the Jedi actually caught off guard and stumbling back with an oof. Luke snickered as he turned to see his mother calmly getting out of bed, a wicked grin on her face. However, her features softened as soon as she turned back to Luke, kindness seeping from every inch of her, "Would you like some breakfast dear?"

"Oh, you don't have to—"

Padmé silenced him with a wave. "Please, you're a guest. Besides, if I don't cook then Threepio will attempt to care for you and I promise you that that is the last thing you want." Luke laughed, wishing he could tell her that he knew first hand how Threepio tended to overreact about things.

"Alright then, I guess that settles it." Padmé smiled at him one last time before moving out into the main room of the apartment, Anakin having already gone to the fresher to get ready for the day.

Luke numbly watched his parents walk off to do their respective morning routines, a buzz at the back of his subconscious reminding him how wrong everything felt. Every passing second he thought about how his very existence in these moments was changing the course of history. For now it was only little things, but it was still the strangest thing to wonder what his parents had done this day in the correct timeline, one where Luke was where he belonged—his mother's womb. With a shake of his head, he finally mustered the strength to clamber out of his bed, his joints protesting with a pop.

He found himself thinking back on his nightmare, the feeling of the lightsaber piercing through him still making him woozy. He had had bad nightmares before, but never as vivid as he had been getting them recently. He knew it was the Force trying to tell him more about his father's destiny, he only wished it could be shown in a way that wouldn't mess with his psyche. Groaning, Luke shuffled into the kitchen, his body still sticky with sweat and dirt that stuck to his burnt clothes. Padmé was by the stove leaning over a kettle when she looked over at him. Her eyebrows instantly furrowed with concern.

"Have you been wearing that all night?" she inquired. Luke simply nodded. He had become so accustomed to wearing the same clothes over and over again without time to wash that he almost forgot what cleanliness was supposed to feel like. The combination of growing up with sonic showers and being given limited fresher time in the Rebellion made the thought of a hot shower and fresh linens send Luke into a state of near euphoria. "Well feel free to use the fresher after Anakin."

"Thank you," Luke said, eyes brightening when Padmé set a steaming mug of tea before him. He quickly sat down and cradled the drink, the warmth managing to leak through his glove and warm his prosthetic hand just as much as his natural one. Padmé leaned across the counter with her own mug of kaf, peering at Luke curiously as she sipped at it. It wasn't long before she blinked rapidly, looking away with a scoff.

"It's strange. You look so familiar. Must be one of those deja vu things," she said with a chuckle. She turned back to the stove and grabbed a pan for a batch of eggs. Luke stayed silent.

"That smells amazing," Anakin called suddenly, appearing from the fresher still toweling his wet hair. He was dressed in his Jedi robes, his saber dangling from his belt and his glove neatly fitted over his right arm, the snaps still yet to be fastened. There were socks on his feet, his boots missing and allowing his loose pants to flow freely past his ankles. "Hope you two aren't talking about me."

Padmé smiled as Anakin walked over, leaning over the counter to give him a long kiss. Luke watched in intrigue before awkwardly looking away. It wasn't his fault that before he time-traveled, he had frequently thought that there was no love between his parents and that he and Leia had been a mistake. He had never been more wrong. Anakin and Padmé were deeply in love and oozing with even more love to give to their unborn children. Even though they only knew of the one child so far.

They broke apart slowly, Padmé reaching up to mess with Anakin's dripping locks before turning back to the eggs. "Honey, do you think you could let Luke borrow one of your old Jedi robes? I don't think the ones he's wearing are going to work anymore," Padmé said.

Anakin looked up and down Luke's figure thoughtfully before humming in response. "Yeah, I might have something. Let me go check." He returned swiftly with a stack of rumpled fabrics in his arms, dropping them down onto Luke's lap just as Padmé slid him a plate of finished eggs across the counter. Distracted by the clothes suddenly assaulting him, Luke wasn't able to retaliate as Anakin picked up a fork and took a bite of what was supposed to be Luke's breakfast.

"Ani!" Padmé hissed, scandalized as she swatted at her giggling husband.

Luke simply rolled his eyes before holding up the tunic he had been given to his chest. It was immediately obvious that it was far too large for him, every inch of it baggy and dwarfing his frame. Anakin choked on the eggs he was eating. "Wow," he swallowed tightly, "I did not realize you were that much smaller than me."

Luke huffed, offended. Far too often he had been called short, or even worse, tiny . Even by his own sister who was a great deal shorter than he was. He would never understand it.

"Why don't I see what I still have from my Padawan days? Something is sure to fit you," Anakin said with another chuckle, scooping up the robes from a disgruntled Luke. He did his best not to pout as Anakin went and returned with smaller tunics. To his chagrin, they were the perfect size. "There we go, now you can wear something a bit nicer."

Luke stuck his hand through a rip in the pant leg.

"Relatively," Anakin shrugged, sipping from Luke's tea. "Oh! I almost forgot." Anakin darted back to the bedroom for a third and final time, smiling brightly as he returned with a lightsaber he extended out to Luke.

Luke hesitated as he took the weapon from his father, studying the casing with intrigue. The feel of it was still unfamiliar and the knowledge that it had belonged to a now deceased Jedi made him nauseous. "Thanks," he whispered, his eyes gone dull. Anakin and Padmé shared a look of concern.

Rubbing his neck, Anakin tried his best to be consoling despite it not being his strong point. He may not have known a lot about Luke, but seeing his reaction to a lightsaber that wasn't his own made his heart pang with understanding. A Jedi's weapon was a part of them, something Obi-Wan had frequently drilled into his mind. Losing it was debatably equivalent to losing a loved one. Remembering how Luke had spoke fondly of the 'Ben' that had trained him, it was obvious his old saber he had lost held important memories, some bad and some good. He wondered momentarily if it had anything to do with the father he had cried out for the night before. "I took it off your belt last night when you were freaking out. I thought now, maybe later in the day, we could spar? You seem to know your way around it based on your handle of it, so I figured we could test it out, see how much that old hermit really taught you."

Luke locked eyes with Anakin for a moment, staring deep into his soul. Everyday since he had learned of his father's past as a Jedi he had dreamed about training with him. Now his opportunity was here. His smile encompassed his whole face. "I'd love that, Anakin. Really."

Padmé cleared her throat, catching the men's attention, "As sweet as this conversation is, did you not have somewhere to be this morning, Anakin?"

"Right. I almost forgot," said Anakin hurriedly, moving to the corner to grab his boots.

"Where are you going?" Luke asked, determined to keep tabs on his father's whereabouts. Every little thing he did could be another seed in the plot for him falling to the dark side. If Luke looked away for even a moment he feared failure. After all, Palpatine had his claws in the entire Republic, especially with Anakin; he had every right to be cautious.

"Uh," Anakin paused as he finished adjusting himself, already looking the part of a proper Jedi Knight. "I have a meeting with Master Yoda. It was originally supposed to be discussion on the Outer Rim Sieges but we're probably going to talk about...um...something else."

Padmé recognized the panic in her husband's bright blue eyes and she frowned. Anakin knew now that Luke had nightmares just like him, yet he was too scared to admit it. Did he think it was too personal? And to share his worries with Master Yoda instead? She never realized how much the vision had truly rattled him.

"Something...else?" Luke asked with a cock of his head, unintentionally prying further and not noticing Anakin's discomfort. All he could think about was Master Yoda figuring out that he was a time traveler. Surely this wasn't the 'something else' they were discussing.

"Anakin had a nightmare last night as well," Padmé blurted, watching as both Anakin and Luke's heads jerked over to her. "It was about...about our child."

"And you," Anakin grit out, anger making his head pound. "But he didn't need to know the details, Padmé ." He emphasized her name just enough to make it sound threatening, but Padmé was unconcerned.

"Why not?" she snapped back with the same amount of acid in her tone. "You know he had a nightmare same as you. Two Force-sensitives under one roof having a particularly bad vision about a family member? Correct me if I'm wrong but that doesn't sound like a coincidence to me."

"You know nothing about the Force."

Padmé's eyes flared. "Oh? I know enough to know that you are holding in all these unchecked emotions and that you refuse to discuss them in a healthy way. If you aren't going to talk to me about it, then at least talk to someone else that understands what you're going through! Especially since you're so against talking about anything with Obi-Wan and I—"

Anakin's prosthetic hand slammed down on the counter, the dishes and mugs rattling from the force of it. Silence held for a moment and Luke watched with wide eyes as his father's eyes burned with fury. He looked like... Vader.

"We are not. Telling. Obi-Wan. "

The atmosphere around Anakin was bone-chilling, the Force almost twisting around him and making Luke tremble in fear. His mind flashed with the memories of Vader standing over him on Cloud City, menacingly tall and radiating with unadulterated rage as soon as Luke had even breathed Obi-Wan's name. The rift between Master and Padawan couldn't have been further, and it frightened Luke to no end how betrayed Anakin had felt from the older man. It was no wonder he had taken little remorse as he cut him down on the Death Star with one callous swing.

To Luke's bafflement, Padmé was still holding her glare. She was completely unflappable. It must've come from all the politicians she had to deal with on a regular basis. Leia was the same way. "Goodbye, Anakin."

Anakin blinked, staring down at his fist before wrenching it back as if burned. "I—"

"I said goodbye ."

Sighing, Anakin grabbed his robe and threw it over his arm, casting one glance at Luke before moving to leave. "I'll be back later."

Padmé ignored him and he left without any further comment.

Luke simply sat numbly, still holding the Jedi robes and the lightsaber in his lap. His mother turned to him with a sigh, finally sitting down to eat herself. "I'm sorry you had to be in the middle of all that," she whispered just barely loud enough for Luke to hear. He gazed at her for a moment, watching intently as she soundlessly ate her breakfast.

"You said the nightmare was about your child?" Luke pondered, unable to help himself. He winced as Padmé paused, staring blankly ahead before turning back to face him.

"He dreamt that I died in childbirth."

He waited for her to say differently, that she was only kidding. She only blinked. "I...I don't—"

"It was just a dream, Luke. The real problem is is that he's going to let it get to him. So much so that it's going to destroy him. I'm only worried. He won't even talk to Obi-Wan anymore," she scoffed mirthlessly, "As you so obviously saw his reaction."

Was it simply a dream though? Had the Force shown Anakin the future? He had always known that his mother died around the same time he was born, yet he had never known how, nor had Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen ever told him. Of all the ways he had imagined it happening, giving birth to him and Leia was the farthest from it. It had meant that they had killed her. He met her brown eyes, his heart slowing in torment as he started to truly mourn his mother for the first time. All his life he had gone on and on about how much he wished he had known his father, how he had been a spice freighter, and then had actually turned out to be a Jedi Knight, and then actually turned out to be Darth Vader. All that and he had never truly taken the time to think about the woman who brought him into the universe to begin with.

His mother was Padmé Amidala. Cherished Queen of Naboo, esteemed Senator, brave fighter for the end of the Clone Wars. Guilt overran him like a crashing tidal wave. Now more than ever he wished his sister was with him to meet the awe-inspiring woman they were lucky enough to call their mother. Leia would've adored her.

"He's worried it'll come true, just like the one with his mother a few years back," Padmé interrupted his thoughts, oblivious to his inner turmoil.

"His mother..." Luke recalled back to his previous discussion with Anakin in the medbay, "The one who was killed by Tusken Raiders?" His grandmother.

Padmé frowned, "Yes. How did you know?"

"He told me back when I was in the medcenter. Told me a lot of things actually. It was a mutual exchange of information." He grinned sheepishly.

"Hmm," Padmé hummed, turning in her chair to be completely face to face with the young man. "Well knowing him, I know he didn't get into any further details." Luke shook his head in response. Padmé traced her mug with uncertainty before sighing. "Anakin was assigned to protect me from an assassin that was trying to kill me back in the last few days before the war," Luke decided not to comment on how easily she mentioned an attempt on her life. Must've been a recurring thing. "We were staying in Naboo at the time with my family. We...we fell in love there. But from the moment we left he had been having vivid dreams that kept him up all hours of the night. When he finally confessed that they were about his mother, I decided to go with him to Tatooine to help ease his mind. When we got there and asked about her, her new husband Cliegg said that she was missing. Anakin went out to find her and returned with her corpse in his arms."

Horror churned in Luke's gut as he listened to the story, watching as Padmé's eyes dimmed. He couldn't even be bothered to focus on the familiar name of his Grandpa Cleigg, Uncle Owen's father. "Anakin loved his mother immensely. She was the only family he ever had. Shmi raised him, but was forced to let him go when the Jedi set him free. I was there for that as well. Meeting that woman was a true privilege I never deserved; she was more than kind. And she was so strong."

"Wait, set him free?" Luke never knew how his father became a Jedi, he just assumed he always had been. He knew the old Jedi's ways of taking Force-sensitive infants to be raised in the Temple, but the way Padmé was talking about it, Anakin had been at least a little boy when he first came to the Temple. It made sense though. He was the only Jedi to ever talk about parents of any kind, and he actually had memories of a home planet unlike the others who simply had the name of the place they were from in their head as a fact and nothing more, no feelings attached.

Padmé noted his confusion with a melancholy nod. "Anakin and his mother were slaves. Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan's Master, set him free when he realized he was Force-sensitive."

"What about his mother?"

"It was...more complicated than just freeing him. A story for another time."

Luke took in the information gradually, not fully able to comprehend it. His father had been a slave. He had had the worst life imaginable and had still managed to overcome his adversities. It was a cruel fate to give him such an emotionally troubled life afterwards. All of it only invigorated Luke's determination to save him. "So...he thinks because this vision of his mother came true then this one will as well?"

Padmé nodded. "I don't blame him for feeling that way. He's already lost so much in such a small amount of time. I just don't want him to worry unnecessarily. What happened to his mother was horribly tragic but I am getting the best prenatal care from my handmaidens and am in complete health. Everything his brain is screaming at him is just that, a delusion. His mental state gets worse every day."

"He mentioned...a Padawan? Did they die as well?"

"No, Ahsoka was removed from the Order," the older woman sighed, rubbing her temples. "Also a long story."

Luke pondered for a moment before sitting back, fumbling with the sleeve of the tunic in his lap. "So, do you think Master Yoda will be able to help him?"

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Personally, I don't think he will. The Jedi put the pressure of Anakin's supposed Chosen One status on him every day, telling him in every way possible that he's being a Jedi incorrectly. No matter what anyone tells you, Jedi are just glorified politicians with weapons," she paused, "No offense."

Luke waved it off. He hadn't been raised in the Temple like most Jedi after all, therefore he knew next to nothing about their culture outside of what Ben and Yoda had told him in his brief training. One word in his mother's sentence perked his ears up, however. "Chosen One?"

Padmé raised an eyebrow. "A Jedi who hasn't heard of the prophetic Chosen One? You must be more out of touch than I thought. I assumed everyone knew about Anakin being the Chosen One, it's kind of why he's so famous in the holonet. That and his being a General in the war effort."

Luke mentally swore. Every time he thought he was grasping the past, he always let one thing slip up. He never realized how little he knew about his parents, and here he was learning that his father was part of an ancient Jedi prophecy.

"It doesn't matter," Padmé continued, "The prophecy basically says that the Chosen One, who they perceive is Anakin, will bring balance to the Force one day. Whatever that means exactly, no one really knows. It's fuzzy and unpredictable, just like his visions. But it's a burden he carries everyday."

"I'm sorry," Luke trailed off, reaching timidly forward to take Padmé's hand. She gratefully accepted it, flashing him a gentle smile.

"I still don't fully understand you yet, but I'm thankful that you're here. You almost feel like an old friend."

Still smiling, she leaned forward to embrace him, catching him off guard momentarily before he melted into her arms. "Thank you for sharing all this with me."

"Thank you for listening," she said softly.

Once they pulled away from each other, Padmé rose to her feet, her hand on her lower back as she did so. Luke's eyes involuntarily darted down to the small bump on her stomach, the Force presences inside still ringing true. "I, um, I'm going to go use the fresher if that's alright? Get washed and changed?" Luke stammered.

"Of course," Padmé affirmed, eyes crinkling warmly. "Just try not to use all the hot water."

Luke chuckled under his breath, "I'll try not to."

With that, he scrambled away into the fresher, mind overwhelmed with thoughts. So many stressors were obvious trigger points in his father's life, enough so that he had, at some point, sought the dark side to relieve it all. Anxiety crashed over him as he ran through potential plans on how to change the future. Sliding down to the floor in despair, Luke finally let his emotions overcome him. Palpatine was already light years ahead of him, but Luke still had the advantage of secrecy. He would save his parents, he would save the galaxy, he would.

Salty tears dribbled down his face and he tried to picture Han, Lando, Leia, and Chewie surrounding him, holding him close and soothing him with reassurances. Yet another pang of homesickness bubbled up in his throat and he choked back a sob.

From the other room, Padmé pretended she couldn't hear.

◂◂◂

Anakin had only stepped one foot out of Padmé's apartment before he regretted snapping at her, his shoulders slumping as he realized how blunt he had been. He had almost turned around to go apologize but figured that his wife would only snap back at him to leave. They would discuss it more later, which Anakin was already beginning to dread.

He was acting like such a child. His nightmares had gotten bad before, but never enough so that he had gotten so defensive and rigid. Seeing Padmé die had done a number on his mental state and he could only hope that vaguely bringing up his worries to Master Yoda would provide him relief. It wasn't that he trusted speaking his feelings more to the Jedi, it was more along the lines of Yoda being a neutral source in his life, someone who would take his concerns in a philosophical way and not an emotional way like Padmé or Obi-Wan would.

Luke had been a brief consideration for conversation, but Anakin had only just met him. Despite telling pretty much everything else about his personal life to the other man—which Anakin still found strange why he did so—he just couldn't imagine himself starting a discussion about dreams that didn't end up revealing more than either one of them meant to. It was best to leave his doubts to someone more open. Although he had strongly suspected that Padmé was going to tell Luke more of the details of his vision while he was gone anyhow. He slid into his speeder and drove off, his aggravation taking the wheel as he did so.

Once at the Jedi Temple, the door to the meditation room slid open on its own volition, Anakin's hand poised to knock as it did so. Inside sat Master Yoda on a rounded cushion, his leathery, olive eyelids closed tight as he took in deep inhales. Not wanting to disturb his meditation, Anakin slipped quietly into the room, plopping down on the cushion opposite Yoda's. He watched the small alien silently, patiently, contemplating his breathing technique and how he could use it for his own meditating exercises.

"Premonitions...", Yoda whispered suddenly, it just soft enough that Anakin almost thought he was hearing things. "Premonitions," the raspy voice repeated, "Hmmm, these visions you have..."

Anakin went taut and hastily put up steady mental shield to block the content of his thoughts. He let loose just enough information that wouldn't make the Master suspicious of his safeguarding behavior. "They are of pain, suffering, death." He cleared his throat, refusing to let his voice break in emotion. The image threatened to bubble back to the surface of his thoughts but he stuffed it back down.

"Yourself you speak of?" continued Yoda, eyes still closed, "Or someone else?"

He was too all knowing, enough so that Anakin knew he could only blanket the truth and not completely cover it. "It was...someone."

"Close to you?"

"Y-yes," Anakin hesitated, knowing the Jedi Master was reading him like an open book, no effort required.

He shook his head softly, grumbling, "Careful you must be when seeing the future, Anakin." Emerald eyes blinked open, staring down the young Knight. "The fear of loss is a path to the dark side."

Anakin's fists curled by his sides, his eye twitching. He hadn't expected any other response from a Jedi, but it was still better than anything Obi-Wan would've said. The Jedi were emotionless husks, enough so that they wouldn't let their members care for anyone. It was the one thing Anakin had always found blasphemous, even in his youth as Obi-Wan's Padawan. It was always 'Dark Side this' and 'Dark Side that', never once a thought on how positive relationships could make for a better Jedi.

But he wasn't about to express any of these thoughts aloud. Especially not to Master Yoda.

"A natural part of life, death is. Rejoice for those around you who transform into the Force. Mourn them, do not. Miss them, do not. Attachment leads to jealousy. The shadow of greed, that is."

Anakin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "With all due respect Master, I came here for reassurance, not a lecture. I could have gone to Master Kenobi for that."

Yoda actually huffed in amusement at the snark comment, ever used to the bickering between Kenobi and Skywalker.

"Just...what should I do? How can I not let myself get too caught up in my fears yet at the same time still be cautious in case it comes true?"

Master Yoda recognized the exasperation in the younger man's voice and hummed. It was always a challenge to get through the pandemonium that was Anakin Skywalker's personality, but Yoda had sensed something in the boy the second he had stepped foot in the Temple all those years ago. Something sinister. He refused to fail him despite the constant disregard to the Jedi's ways. He locked eyes with Skywalker, only able to think of the time-traveling Starkiller and how he was here to fix something that was out of everyone's control but the Force.

"Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose." Anakin's brow furrowed. "And trust the Force."

Just like that, the wise, crumpled up Jedi Master let his eyes drift back closed, leaving Anakin to his thoughts once more. The Knight sighed, knowing there was a deeper meaning to Yoda's words. He hadn't even bothered to question Anakin on the Outer Rim Sieges, which was why they had set up the meeting in the first place, so it probably meant Anakin would be sitting through the crypticness all over again later in the week.

His robes shuffling as he rose to his feet, Anakin stooped into a bow out of habit, accepting his dismissal. As he left the room, his mind lingered, reaching desperately for the positive spin on his situation. It was impossible to think on without remembering his mother, the surrealness of holding her feeble, trembling body close to his chest as she wheezed out his name. The way her eyes, once so full of light and kindness dimmed before him, draining faster than she could speak.

Tears brimmed at his eyelashes and he blinked them away, sniffling lightly as he leaned against the wall. It was true that the nightmares about his mother had come true, but at the time it had paranoid him to no end and the new dream was doing it all over again. He had ignored the dream about his mother until the last second, but he knew better now then to take it less than seriously. He had lost Qui-Gon, lost his mother, lost Ahsoka...there was no way he was going to let the Force take Padmé too.

He wouldn't sit idly by as those he loved died, he refused. Taking a deep breath, he collected himself before standing firm and tall. If the nightmare plagued him again, he would look harder at the details, remember everything in order to prevent it from becoming a reality.

Anakin's speeder took off with a roar, the man behind the wheel scowling determinedly. For now, he would stay optimistic that it was nothing but a hallucination induced by his excessive worrying, yet he would remain open to any and all ways to prevent Padmé from dying.

Even ways the Jedi didn't approve of.

◂◂◂

The door to Padmé's apartment slid open with a swish, Anakin peering inside cautiously only to find the main room devoid of any life. Swallowing tightly, remembering all too well how he had stormed out earlier, he walked in slowly, his boots barely making a sound against the wooden floor. The sound of a door opening from the hall startled him and he cursed himself for being so out of tune with the Force. Everything he had been thinking about since he had left his meeting with Master Yoda had taken up the majority of his thoughts, enough so that his focus on the Force had dimmed.

Surprised blue eyes met his from across the room, Luke standing there with a towel in his hands, the Jedi robes Anakin had given to him earlier fitted over his small frame. The fabric stuck to his damp skin, his blonde hair darkened from being wet, both signs that he had just gotten out of the shower. Smiling sheepishly, the young man adjusted his collar, turning to put the towel back in the fresher before moving back to look at Anakin. "You're back soon." Something about his voice was off, a slight crack in it holding back a hidden emotion. It was the first time Anakin noticed red, puffiness around Luke's eyes, easily covered up by the ruse of heat from the shower.

"Yeah," Anakin said slowly, wondering what Luke could've possibly gotten so upset about in the short time he had been gone. It was still early in the morning after all, only about half an hour since he had left. "Uh, the robes look nice on you."

Luke looked down at his body, almost surprised by the fact that he had changed. He looked back up at Anakin before chuckling warily, "Thanks. They, uh...they fit well."

Kriff , Anakin thought with a wince. He had definitely freaked Luke out with his outburst from before. There was no other explanation for his sudden distance. Biting his lip, he opened his mouth to ask where Padmé was before the woman herself walked into the room, one of her handmaidens and Threepio standing on either side of her. She was talking to them with large gestures, one of her Senate dresses on and hair cascading down in long chocolate curls, still yet to be done up. She was completely enveloped in her politician mode as she spoke until she made eye contact with Anakin standing in the middle of the room. Her face molded into a frown and she sighed. "Excuse me Dormé, if you don't mind."

The young Nabooian woman looked over at the Jedi with a furrowed brow before nodding in understanding, "Of course, ma'am. I'll be in the other room." The woman gave a small bow of her head before shuffling away, casting a look back at Anakin before disappearing down a corridor. Once she was gone, Padmé turned her full glare on her husband. She strode forward determinedly, Threepio trailing after her as she continued her work.

"Didn't think you would bother to come back so soon," she snapped as she walked by him, barely sparing him a glance as she did so.

"Mistress Padmé is preparing for a meeting with Senators Mothma and Organa at the moment, Master Anakin," Threepio exclaimed enthusiastically, his tinny voice brimming with pride. Padmé directed poisonous eyes at the golden droid, he somehow managing to shrink back in fear. "U-uh, I," Threepio turned over to Luke, who was still standing in the corner awkwardly, "Master Luke! Surely you must need some help!"

Luke's eyes widened in surprise, "Uh..."

"Padmé, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap this morning, I was just stressed." Both Anakin and Padmé ignored Threepio as he went waddling over to the befuddled, spluttering Luke. "I spoke to Master Yoda."

"And?" asked Padmé with a raised eyebrow, brushing back a strand of her hair in annoyance as she did so.

Anakin took a deep breath, wringing his hands nervously. "And I'm going to try and be more open about my feelings. I want to talk to you," he swallowed, "but I still don't know about Obi-Wan."

" Anakin— "

He held up his hands to stop her, knowing she was about to rant. "Padmé, please, just hear me out." He took her hand, careful as she continued to narrow her eyes at him. "I love you. I trust you. I'm willing to discuss things with you and your family, I just...I can't find it in me to trust Obi-Wan right now. But I will at some point, I promise." He waited for a moment as his wife looked up at him, confliction in her eyes. The brown irises disappeared momentarily as he eyelids fluttered closed, a long steady breath going through her nose.

When she finally opened them back up to look at him, she shook her head softly. "I don't want you to be frightened, Anakin. I want you to trust me, especially when I'm trying to help you," she looked over at Luke who was still being cornered by Threepio and his ramblings. "I just don't want you to feel like you're alone. Take your time, but just know that there are people in your life that care about you, especially Obi-Wan."

Anakin nodded slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's just a hard time right now. Hopefully, whenever this war ends, I will feel more open to telling him things."

"By that point, there'll be no point in telling him anything," she rubbed her stomach. "He'll already know."

"Right," grimaced Anakin, momentarily forgetting that they had a child on the way. "Well maybe I can start slowly, like talking to Luke about his and my nightmares."

Padmé rolled her eyes, tracing Anakin's arms up and down absentmindedly. "Already had a chat with him when you were gone. Figured he would want to know why you were getting so defensive over a nightmare."

Anakin frowned momentarily. They had already discussed how much they were going to tell Luke, the man who was still technically a stranger to them. He looked back at the boy in question, him now standing by the sofa and helping Threepio adjust things around the house. Anything to get the goldenrod to stop blabbering anxiously.

"Train with him," Padmé said abruptly, smiling softly. "It's obvious he wants to. It'll be a good chance for you two to really get to know each other."

"Through sparring?"

A small smirk graced the Senator's lips. "That is how you Jedi get to know each other right? By fighting?"

Anakin snorted although he was glad that he could get Padmé back to teasing him again. She patted him on the shoulder, "I'll see you in an hour then? I still have to get ready for my meeting that Threepio so gracefully mentioned to you earlier."

"Can I ask what it's about?"

Padmé faltered for a moment, enough so that Anakin almost dug into her about sharing emotions. Nothing bothered him more than hypocrisy. However, she smiled, rising on her toes and placing a kiss on his cheek. "I'll tell you about it later."

With that, she moved over to Luke and Threepio to collect the droid back to attend to his duties. Luke looked immensely grateful as she did so, his eyes moving over towards to Anakin as the two of them walked back to find Dormé. "Is everything alright between you two?"

Anakin nodded, looking Luke over in his new robes once more before smiling lightly. "I heard that you two talked while I was gone?" Luke had the decency to look guilty, ducking his head in embarrassment.

"I know you guys were fighting, but she just opened up and I was so curious and—"

"It's alright Luke," Anakin said with a laugh, patting the other man on the shoulder comfortingly. "She and I already discussed it." He paused for a moment, taking notice of the saber dangling from Luke's belt. He was getting more and more comfortable with the weapon that didn't belong to him, a sign that he was ready. "So, did you still want to spar with me? Polish up your technique?"

Luke instantly brightened, baby blue irises alight with uncontained excitement. "Can we?"

Anakin chuckled at the energy emitting from the boy. "If you're up to it."

"Of course I am!"

◂◂◂

"Okay," panted Luke, sweat drenching his fresh tunics and making his skin uncomfortably slick, "Maybe I wasn't up to it."

Anakin laughed, twirling his saber effortlessly, the sapphire blade humming and emitting a glow bright enough to irritate the eyes. The taller Jedi showed no signs of fatigue, the light sheet of perspiration on his neck the only sign that he was a human with the capability to grow tired and not a limitless combat droid. Luke simply narrowed his eyes at his father, reaching up to frustratedly brush away loose, damp locks of his blonde hair.

"I'm shocked. I thought you could at least take me without keeling over," Anakin teased, mockingly walking in circles around Luke as he futilely attempted to catch his breath. "Guess that Ben of yours didn't teach you about overexertion."

Luke rolled his eyes. If only Anakin knew whose teaching abilities he was criticizing. Ben had taught Luke, albeit briefly, but he had also taught Anakin. Therefore their abilities shouldn't have been that different from each other. But he supposed that Anakin did have the years of experience over him. He ignored that thought. "Let's go again."

"You sure you can handle it?" Anakin paused before Luke, bending over and putting his hands on his knees, his lit saber almost grazing the floor. "Or do you need a break?"

At first, Luke thought he was genuinely offering, but when he looked up and saw the devious smirk, he frowned. As weird as it was, it reminded him of Han. There had been several instances where the smuggler had sat and watched Luke as he trained, calling out on occasion to tease him to no end. Han always defended that he was doing it to encourage the younger man—'tough love' he called it—but Luke knew he just enjoyed watching him suffer. That and watching Luke in a tight-fit tank top. It hit Luke again how much he missed his friends but he shook it away and focused on Anakin still standing before him awaiting a response.

Taking advantage of the man's bent position and not wasting a moment that would allow him to react, Luke reignited his saber and leapt over Anakin with a bounding flip. Memories of Jabba's skiff came rushing back to him and a wicked grin graced his face as he lashed out with his weapon. Taken off guard, Anakin instantly righted his stance to meet Luke's lowering blade. The green and blue collided together with bright yellow sparks that flew off to sizzle out on the ground. The two men met each other across the intersect of their blades, their eyes challenging one another.

"Color me impressed," Anakin said with a raised eyebrow.

"You haven't seen anything yet," Luke insisted cockily. He ducked, pulling his saber with him and rolling underneath Anakin's legs. It didn't take long for Anakin to adapt to his movements, his right foot reaching out to trip Luke up before he thrust his saber out. Luke met the blade, only disoriented for a moment as he rolled along the ground, tussling violently. He had finally got out of the defensive and was able to attempt offensive techniques, the beginning of the training having been mostly Anakin attacking and Luke parrying. Which wasn't a far cry from his actual fighting style.

A few more twists and stabs echoed throughout the silent training room, the light of the sabers reflecting off the walls. Luke huffed as he realized he was still wearing himself out, baffled at how maintained Anakin kept.

"How are you not even the slightest bit out of breath?" he jabbed, frustrated.

Anakin simply shrugged, the annoying smirk still on his lips. "Practice?"

"Bantha poodoo ," Luke glowered.

Laughing once more, Anakin rolled around, allowing Luke one shot at him before going back to his full potential. Sparring with the boy reminded him so much of Ahsoka, the Padawan always grumbling about Anakin besting her. There had been the few and far between instances where Ahsoka had come out on top, each time leading to a week of boasting from the young Togruta. However, even though she was still training, Anakin had never doubted her ability once. She was strong in the Force and clever enough to handle situations under pressure. It was why the clones respected her so much. She was young, but she was a damn good Commander.

It was weird to feel such pride for his Padawan since he had never wanted one in the first place, but Ahsoka had been a light in his life he had never realized he needed. Almost like a younger sister, someone to pass along his knowledge to.

And now he fought with a man who was older than him but far less trained, and yet it was the same feeling. A brother; one that felt far more closer to him than he had ever felt with Obi-Wan. He liked Luke alot and he knew he had just as much potential as Ahsoka did. Never in a million years would he replace the other girl, for her departure from the Order was something that he thought about every day, but Obi-Wan had always insisted he try training someone again. It had always sounded like a horrible idea... But watching Luke work with him, the young man cursing him out as he fought to stay upright, it was suddenly the best idea in the entire galaxy.

Luke was now sprawled out on the training mat, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The entire ground underneath him was pasted with his sweat, his eyes closed and a low moan emitting from his lips. Anakin smiled in amusement, "You alright there?"

"I hate you."

"Fair enough." Anakin sighed as he plopped down next to Luke, stretching a hand out and calling two water bulbs that were sitting in the corner to his hand. He popped open the first one for himself, tossing the other onto Luke's stomach hard enough to make the young man let out a breathy oof. Exhausted blue eyes fluttered open and zeroed in on the water. Luke instantly sat up and scrambled for the top, practically ripping it off before placing it to his lips and chugging the entire thing in seconds.

Shaking his head, Anakin offered the rest of his water, Luke taking it with only a muttered, "Thanks."

"You know you're supposed to sip it, right?" Anakin needled.

Luke took a deep breath as he finished downing the second bulb, his cheeks flushed from the exertion of the training. "I don't know why I'm so tired. It's not like I haven't trained before."

Anakin frowned, looking the man up and down and tentatively poking at his Force signature just to get a sense of his well-being. "You're not still recovering are you? I know the medic said no stress—"

"No, that's not it. I'm fine, really," he tossed the two empty water bulbs across the room over in the corner trash receptacle, slowly rising to his feet to stretch his legs as he did so, "Maybe this is just the longest I've done physical sparring without a break."

Rising to his feet beside him, Anakin clamped an understanding hand on Luke's shoulder. "I get it. You trained outside the Temple, you're not used to the rigor. But you have the ability, at least give yourself that."

Luke ducked his head humbly, "Thanks. That means a lot coming from you."

Anakin's brow furrowed momentarily. Coming from him? He had only known Luke for a day or two at least. It was kind of him to already look up to and respect Anakin so much, but it was still a tad strange coming from a practical stranger. It was the little things that Luke did and said that always seemed a little off, his deep blue eyes holding more knowledge and secrets than he let on. Enough so that Anakin couldn't help but think back to the medcenter where Luke was only the day before, the way Anakin had distrusted him because of his flimsy story. But Luke was also open as much as he was closed, telling personal things deep enough to make Anakin himself reveal things that only Padmé knew about him. The Force flowed around him in a strange way, almost as if the universe itself was shining a big spotlight on the boy and screaming at Anakin to pay attention. More and more it made sense why Master Yoda had requested to speak with him alone, but what could be so peculiar about one Force sensitive that they made the Force go wild?

For one crazy, surreal moment, Anakin thought that Luke might be the Chosen One, and not him. The strange way he appeared, his off the charts strength in the Force, his cryptidness about his training... But of course, there was no way for him to prove it. After all, even the Jedi Council themselves weren't completely confident in the accuracy of the prophecy or whether or not it would even come true in their lifetime. Everyone just assumed it was Anakin because Qui-Gon had theorized it. All because he had no father that conceived him, only his mother. The Force was mystical, and it drove Anakin wild that he couldn't understand it more, but Chosen One or not, there was something not right with Luke Starkiller.

"Are you hungry?" Anakin blurted randomly, wincing as soon as the words left his mouth. Luke blinked up at him for a moment. He shrugged.

"I mean, a little bit I guess."

"Great. We have plenty of time before Padmé has her meeting, we can eat there."

"Okay," Luke drew out slowly, eyeing Anakin oddly before gathering up their stuff.

After double checking to make sure his lightsaber was still on his belt, Anakin helped take some of the things Luke was carrying and helped direct him out of the room and back to their parked speeder. They were silent the entire way back, Luke still stewing in the surreality of having trained with his father and Anakin pondering deeply about the enigma that was the Starkiller boy.

◂◂◂

Jedi Master Enric Osh was sorting through cases of bacta bandages and taking notes on his datapad for inventory purposes while his Padawan worked on the other side of the room by the data files, her Force presence blaring with boredom and impatience. With a sigh, he set down the packet of bacta he was holding to turn and face his student.

"Padawan."

Kirei jerked up, her eyes wide in alarm. "Yes, Master?"

"Why don't you go double check on some of our patients, hmm? Maybe it'll be a bit more interesting for you," Enric raised an eyebrow as he spoke, his scolding tone just enough to make the young girl dip her head in embarrassment.

"My apologies, Master," she grabbed a datapad off the desk. "I'll go check on the patients if that's what you would like me to do though."

Enric shook his head, rubbing his temples in frustration. Kirei was a good student, but she could be so manipulative, always bending the rules and finding ways to make her Master more stressed. She wasn't training to be a warrior but a healer. Something that took incredible focus and was a massive responsibility despite a lot of the Padawans believing it to be a lesser position in comparison to other Jedi. Enric knew how much Kirei longed for combat, but her skills were in the medical field, she just refused to acknowledge it. Besides, if he hadn't have chosen her as his student all those years ago then she definitely wouldn't have gotten very far in her training. She probably never would have made it past Initiate due to her insubordination and tendency to argue. But Master Osh had taken a chance on her. Something he thought she would be grateful for.

"Just go."

Kirei nodded determinedly, striding off into the other room and leaving her Master to tend to the rest of the duties for the day. Once the door had slid shut behind her, she released a long breath. She had begun to feel like she was never going to escape the continuous watch her Master kept over her.

Once she peered around the empty room to confirm that she was in the clear, she jogged over to a medical supplies closet. She barely fit inside as she squeezed between all the materials inside, but she had just enough room to remove her commlink from her belt, disrupt the frequency so it couldn't be tracked, and start the call she was supposed to have made already.

The miniature blue figure of General Grievous fizzled into view on the circular platform of her hologram plate, the alien's piercing, lifeless eyes staring deep into her soul as he glared at her through his mask. "Your check in time was—"

"Hours ago, I know," she snapped, not entirely afraid of Grievous. It was her real boss that scared her, the man with a plan, the one who could snap her neck without even thinking about it. "What's important is I got the information you needed."

Grievous stayed silent for a moment, his irritation leaking through both the Force and through his pause. He let out a grating cough. "You're sure it was Starkiller?"

"Positive. Knight Skywalker gave me his name."

Grievous wheezed, "Good. And what did you find?"

"I was told to give the information directly to—"

" What did you find? "

Kirei sighed, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. If Grievous wanted to play games, fine, she didn't report to him. "I took his blood to scan for infections, nothing suspicious since it's standard procedure. Then I ran it through the data system to see if I could find anything."

"And?"

She huffed. "It doesn't exactly make sense. This is why I wanted to talk to—"

"Pass along the information like you were instructed, girl. I will determine what does and does not 'make sense'." She could see Grievous growing more and more agitated. Obviously his superior was on his back too.

Good. I want you to squirm.

"Whatever," Kirei took a deep breath, scanning the Force once more to make sure no one could overhear. "Like I said, I didn't really understand it, but the machine said that this Luke Starkiller's blood contains a DNA match to two people in the Coruscanti medical database."

"You were instructed to provide intel, not his family lineage. That is something that can be tracked down by any meer—"

"It said his parents were Senator Padmé Amidala and General Anakin Skywalker. "

There was a much longer pause than before. Grievous' eyes actually widened momentarily. Kirei continued to speak despite the man's temporary shock.

"Which, again, makes no sense. Starkiller's on average twenty standard years or so, there's no possible way for him to be Amidala and Skywalker's kid. Ignoring the fact that those two even have a child, it isn't biologically sound unless the Senator gave birth to him when she was a toddler , which I find unlikely. Even then, Skywalker wouldn't have even been alive to have been able to conceive him."

Grievous continued to remain still throughout her explanation, enough so that Kirei almost thought the transmission had stalled. The General sincerely looked like he had seen a ghost.

"Contact Lord Sidious immediately."

That was all he said before the call cut, leaving Kirei alone in the dark closet.