Felix

This was a common thing that happened; the two of you communicating with only your eyes when someone said something that would be funny only to you. No one else would get it even if you tried to explain it. You would laugh about it in the open as soon as you’d be alone in the TARDIS.

“God he really thought he could outsmart you about time travelling,” you started laughing, letting the Doctor close the door behind you.

“If we didn’t have to hurry I would have stayed there listening to him rumble all day,” he said and joined you laughing.

“Trust me I know what I’m saying. Let me tell you something about the butterfly effect,” you mimicked the man from earlier.

He giggled and your heart filled with joy looking at him. Nothing made you happier than making your best friend laugh.

“Doctor, I think I’m gonna go take a shower and then go to bed. I feel exhausted,” you told him after your laughs faded.

“Okay. But you haven’t eaten anything since this afternoon. I’m gonna prepare you something while you’re showering and you’ll eat it before bed.”

You smiled. The Doctor took care of you all the time, in every little possible way. He had even learned how to cook. Well, kind of. He made you sandwiches that at the beginning, you would admit it, were extremely bad because he added any weird ingredient he could find. But with the time and based on your reactions to each one of them he had learned to make them just how you liked. It was a small gesture but you appreciated it every time.

As soon as you were done with your shower, you sat at the table and started to eat your food. The Doctor was watching you resting his chin on his palm.

“Is it good?”

You nodded with your mouth full and it made him smile with so much affection that made you think about how much you loved him; that made you wonder if he ever saw you like you saw him.

“What is it?” you asked when you had finally swallowed your bite and the Doctor was still looking at you with his expression unchanged.

“Nothing,” he answered with that same dreamy smile that made you find him prettier than you should. “I’m just thinking about where I’m gonna take you tomorrow. And the next day. And then the day after that.”

“Hmm…Seems like you have plans.”

“With you? Always.”

--

“Y/N, come see this,” he said excitedly and grabbed your hand bringing you closer to him.

“What is it?” You looked curiously at the alien that was sitting behind a stand, making something with his unusually thin and long fingers.

“He’s making necklaces with stones that can only be found on this planet. I have to get you one!”

“Oh Doctor you really don’t need to.”

“Of course I do. It will be something for us to remember this trip.”

You softened. “Okay,” you agreed and moved closer to pick the stones you liked. The Doctor also gave you his opinion and you took it very seriously. It made you feel nice to think you would wear something that he liked. To look good for him.

You agreed on the stones you liked and the alien started making the beautiful jewelry for you. When he was done, he gave it to the Doctor – who paid for it with some coins that you didn’t even know how he had found in the first place – and the Doctor turned to you and asked you if he could help you put it on.

You of course agreed and turned around so he could wear it on you. His fingers on your neck made you shiver and you really hoped that he didn’t notice. You should not be feeling that way when your best friend was touching you, but you couldn’t help but close your eyes and get lost in the sensation when you felt his fingers linger a bit too long on your skin.

“Do you like it?” he whispered on your neck as he was still leaning towards you from behind.

“Yes,” you said, the word coming out more as a breath. “Thank you.”

“That white stone you picked is the best gift to give to the love of your life. It symbolizes true love. You made an excellent choice.”

The words of the alien that made your necklace made both of your heads turn. You blushed and the Doctor did as well but you couldn’t know.

Neither of you said anything to correct him. It made you wonder again.

--

“This one is free of charge,” the guy who made your coffee said, giving it to you with a flirty wink.

It was one of your designated days that you spent on Earth. You would get homesick so the Doctor made sure you came back to your planet once every two weeks. You had made him join you in your favorite coffee shop.

The Doctor took his own coffee in his hands that he - unlike you- had to pay for. He put the rest of the money he had prepared to give for your coffee back in his pocket, disappointed.

You sat down on a small table to enjoy your drinks.

“What’s that?” he said squinting his eyes and immediately bringing his glasses out of his pocket.

“What?” you said looking at your plastic cup that seemed to have caught his attention. You noticed a few numbers in a row, and below them a name that definitely wasn’t yours along with a smiley face.

“Oh my God, he gave me his number!”

“His number?” he asked confused.

“Yes, it’s his phone number. Humans do that when they like each other. They give someone they like their number so they can call them and maybe arrange a date,” you explained to him.

You weren’t interested in that man as you were too busy pining after a certain Time Lord but you definitely felt flattered. It had honestly made your day.

“Oh…” he said and his eyes suddenly got sad.

He was a bit quiet the whole time you stayed there, which was extremely unusual for the Doctor you knew and loved.

“Is everything alright?” you asked him when you were back in the TARDIS.

“Yeah…Everything is fine. Brilliant actually.”

You looked at him frowning. He sounded almost irritated.

“I mean you seem to be in a great mood ever since you got your coffee, right? So what could be wrong?” he said speaking very fast, occupying his hands with the console buttons.

“I don’t know. You tell me. Like you said, I’m not the one that’s in a bad mood.”

He stared at the floor, silent for a moment, before lifting his eyes to look at you.

“Are you gonna call him?” he asked and his tone was very serious. He didn’t look angry. But he definitely looked serious.

“The guy from the coffee shop?”

“Yes. Will you go on a date with him?”

You almost smiled. “No.”

And he almost smiled back.

“I thought…You seemed excited. I thought you liked him, like you said you humans do.” His hand was rubbing the back of his neck; he was obviously very nervous.

“I don’t. It was just a sweet gesture that I appreciated.”

“Oh…”

You were both quiet for a moment and you started to feel awkward.

Was he jealous? Was his mood this affected because he thought you would go on a date with another guy?

“Were you jealous?” you asked before you could think.

His eyes widened. He did not expect that question and honestly neither did you.

He opened his mouth and then closed it again.

“I was,” he said putting his hands in his pockets.

You swallowed unable to think what you should do next.

The Doctor slowly moved close to you. He stood a breath away making your heart feel like it was ready to jump out of your chest.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of you being on a date with someone else,” he whispered. “I wanna be the one who takes you out. I wanna be the one who makes you this excited. I wanna be the one…” he stopped, studying your expression but you were looking at him with an unreadable one. “I wanna be the one you like…the one you want,” he continued.

“You are,” you said and grabbed him by his tie, pulling him in for a sweet kiss.

His hands immediately went around your neck bringing your body as close to him as possible.

You opened your mouth wanting more which made the Doctor even more eager.

“Who could ever compare to you?” you sighed against his lips.

It wasn’t strong. You couldn’t communicate thoughts, and certainly couldn’t transport matter. But you could feel each other’s presence, you could feel the other’s emotion. 

It was a tool, and you used it, both in your marriage and on the battlefield. Like no other Jedi you were a team, rivalled by no one. 

Such a bond allowed Anakin a disturbing vision. 

He would wake up in the dead of night, hearing you scream. He felt the grief deep in his stomach, and even through the haze of sleep knew what it meant- he knew that you were meant to die. 

He confided this fear to Chancellor Palpatine, who took advantage of it. You know the rest- his fall to the dark side in order to keep you safe. 

The moment Anakin sliced off Mace Windu’s arm, you fell to the ground in the middle of a battle. Your legs couldn’t hold you- there was pain throughout your body, so intense, so deep, you could barely move. It forced all of your muscles to lock and tighten, as though you were subconsciously trying to force it away. You curled up, and when your will failed, you began to scream. You feared you’d never stop. 

It was pain, anguish, horror. Grief and sadness and rage. All of them, so tangled up underneath your ribcage, and you held your fist against it. You didn’t know what it meant, it was too violent to make sense of, and you couldn’t much focus anyway. 

Luckily, Obi-Wan was there. He got you to safety, and you curled up in a bed in a ship. 

For weeks, you just tried to survive. The pain never ebbed, in fact, it got worse, but slowly you were going numb. You had escaped to Tatooine with Obi-Wan after the Clones turned on the Jedi, and he let you be. Your pain combined with your grief, for Anakin had been killed- you couldn’t imagine what had taken him down. You just had to hope it wasn’t Rex. 

Not far from Anakin’s family’s home, you lumbered around with phantom pains, barely eating, never sleeping. The intensity of it had become your normal, eyelids always heavy, muscles always locked. 

You trembled with every step, and your lips were constantly bleeding, from when you’d bitten and been unable to let go. There was a line of scar tissue bisecting each palm, where your nails had ripped them open, again and again. You lost weight, rarely eating, and so looking so sickly, your muscle still toned from constant tensing standing out underneath paled, tight skin. It wasn’t a good look, and so you’d stopped looking in the mirror, not wanting to see the ghost of a Jedi, the one who hadn’t even tried to help in the final days of the Clone Wars, the one whose skin had sunken in around their eyes and cheeks.

“Have you gotten any better?” Obi-Wan asked, bringing you a meal. You were watching the binary sunrise, trying to meditate- it was how you spent a lot of your time, now, fists clenched under your chin, biceps tight, but your mind as clear as it could be. You tried to reach out to Anakin through the Force, hoping your husband could give you even the slightest bit of encouragement, and to the Jedi who’d been lost, and even to Shmi. It never worked. You had to assume that the grief and rage coiling in your stomach kept you barred from the Force.

“No,” you replied dryly, opening your eyes. “I don’t think it’s ever going to let up. Not until I die.” 

“Or Vader dies,” Obi-Wan said, a small smile on his face as though he was joking. 

But what in the world did that mean?

“Why would Vader have anything to do with this?” You asked, and though you couldn’t see it, you suddenly sensed Obi-Wan begin to feel anxiety. 

“I- He doesn’t. I meant that his death might bring you a little reprieve, him being a Sith and all.” 

“No,” you said, slowly rising to your feet, your fists held at your side, but now there was suspicion in your voice to match them. “You meant, somehow, that all of this is connected to Vader. Like this is-” Your words dropped off, as you considered what it could have meant. 

You had a Force connection with Anakin. Obi-Wan carelessly joked that this pain had to do with Vader, which would mean you had a connection with Vader. 

Which would mean that Anakin was Vader. 

“You told me Anakin was dead,” you growled, and now all of the rage in your stomach felt your own. “You told me you watched him die!” 

It all made sense. Obi-Wan taking you away, never looking back. The time you spent on Mustafar, curled up on the floor of his ship, not knowing what he was doing. The way the pain got worse as time went on. His choice to bring you to Tatooine, where Anakin was born, where his mother died, where he would never willingly return to.

“He is!” Obi-Wan insisted, taking a step back. “Anakin Skywalker is dead!”

“No!” you shouted, and reached out, calling your saber to you. You hadn’t used the Force in so long. “He’s alive! And all this time, all this grief I’ve been feeling- he was grieving for me!” You shoved back Obi-Wan, to the door of his home. “How could you keep this from me?” The pain was familiar, and now, it was all your own. 

“Y/N, wait!” By the time Obi-Wan caught you, you’d stolen his ship. 

Now knowing exactly what you felt, you could open yourself to it. Sure, it hurt, it made the pain so much worse, but only by opening yourself to the anguish would you begin to feel Anakin behind it. 

For the first time, you started to sort through it all. 

Anger. Fear. Hatred. Grief. Sadness. And all of it- all of it was because Obi-Wan had kept you from him. Obi-Wan had known Anakin was alive, and he didn’t tell you. He didn’t trust you enough, didn’t trust Anakin enough, to let you meet. It was all Obi-Wan’s fault that you’d become so ill, that you’d been in this much pain for this long. He kept you weak. Anakin probably didn’t even know you were alive!

Returning to like Coruscant was like returning home. It had been so long since you’d seen the beautiful, sparkling skyline as it stretched on towards the horizon under a golden sky. You touched down your ship onto the Senate’s landing platform, and strapped your saber to your waist before stepping outside. 

A droid was there to greet you. 

“What’s your name?” The stupid tube of wires asked, and you turned your face toward it with a glare. Your head hung low, and your breaths were irregular, forced out with the tensing of your diaphragm as you moved through waves of anguish that haunted your every step. 

“I’m (F/N) (L/N),” you said, “And you will tell Lord Vader that I am here to see him.” 

“Uh, I don’t think I-” the droid got no further before you ignited your saber and bisected it with all the contempt of a General of the Clone Wars. You turned to the next droid, voice even more commanding, even more angry.

“You will tell Lord Vader that I am here to see him.” Thoroughly threatened, this droid did as you asked. 

You stood on the landing platform, waiting, and the longer you waited, the more it hurt. The more it got to you. You started curling, as you always did, pressing your forearms into your stomach, your spine hunching over. 

And then it disappeared. 

It took you a moment to realize the way the pain vanished, your muscles so tight, so you slowly uncurled, more confused than relieved. You looked at your hands, and shifted your legs, not having felt this light, this free, since... since you’d seen Anakin last. Did that mean...?

You looked up to where the droid had disappeared to, and there he was. 

“Anakin.” Your voice was soft, in a way you hadn’t heard it in a long time. Suddenly you had all of the grace and lightness you’d once been proud of, and you ran to him, jumping into his arms. He caught you, like he always does, and spun you as he lowered you, and the hug was so tight, you’d never let go. You curled your fingers into his robes, and he surrounded you in them, enveloped you, his flesh hand bringing his fingers into your hair. You held his neck like it held your life, keeping him as close to you as you could. 

“You’re alive,” he whispered into your neck, sounding emotional. You probed into him and felt it, too, pure relief and happiness invading the Force anywhere near him. And after weeks of nothing but pain, it was sweet like nothing else in the galaxy. 

“You’re alive,” you responded, pressing your whole body deeper into him. “I thought- Obi-Wan told me-”

“Obi-Wan wants to destroy us,” Anakin said, cutting you off. “He ambushed me on Mustafar and tried to kill me.” He pulled his chest away just far enough to press his forehead to yours. “I’m sorry you had to survive being with him. If I had known- I’m so sorry.”

“You couldn’t feel me?” You had felt his pain so clearly, even if you hadn’t known it was his. Why couldn’t he feel yours?

“No, I...” he lowered his head to kiss you, briefly, and you chased his mouth as he left. Like you were teenagers hiding in the hallway of the Jedi temple, you tried to speak in between the kisses, in the moments where you repositioned or pulled away to breathe. “I must’ve-” he lifted you up, holding you against him, hands pressing and holding all over you before moving on, as though he were checking that every bit of you was still there. “I must’ve been too focused on my own grief.” You pulled away for just a moment, cupping his face. 

“It’s okay,” you breathed, “I’m here now. We’re here- we’re okay.” Only now did you notice the gold in his eyes, but it complemented the way he looked at you, and you sank back down into another kiss. 

He took you inside, and you couldn’t be damned to notice anywhere he carried you. You just rested your body on top of him, pressing your lips to his neck every once in a while, feeling content like you hadn’t since... probably since you were married, before the Clone Wars began. 

Wherever he’d taken you seemed to be his home, based on the way the bed was unmade. He always left the sheets scattered. He sat, setting you into his lap, and you once again let your hands come to his face, your fingers slipping into his hair, your thumb running over his scar, staring into golden eyes. You missed the blue- but the gold made you shiver. He cupped your face to match, and you pressed your cheekbone into his flesh hand. 

“What happened to you?” He asked, rubbing his thumbs along the dark skin under your eyes. 

“I haven’t been sleeping,” you admitted, letting out a breath. 

“I don’t blame you,” he said with a small smile, “Obi-Wan hovering over you, and all. Luckily-” With a twist of his hips he tossed you onto the bed, and followed, crawling over you, caging you in with his arms. “We’ve got a bed right here.” 

Laying on your back, you looked up at him, and this view was so familiar, it ached deep in you to see it again. The corner of your mouth turned up in a smirk. 

“Are you actually going to let me sleep?” His eyes flicked over you for a moment, considering. 

“No, I don’t think so.” 

~~~

With Anakin by your side again, you regained your strength. With you strength, you began training. With your training came anger, with anger came rage.

You’d been left to waste away for nearly a month, because Obi-Wan was too afraid of Anakin. Afraid of you! He feared what you could become if you returned to your husband, and he was right to. You, like Anakin, felt more powerful than you ever had before. With you alive, and by his side, he felt no anguish, you felt no pain, and so you could jump higher, strike faster, the Force flowed through you like wind, guiding you toward a mountaintop. Your saber skills were stronger than they’d ever been, you were faster, your focus clearer. 

And your latest focus had been one Emperor Palpatine. 

He was... a character, that’s for sure. You didn’t hold malice toward him, not the way you did Obi-Wan, but his choices in the past certainly were questionable. Maybe he needed to get into power, and maybe he needed to start a trade war to do it, but he certainly didn’t need to put Padme in danger. 

You had a number of small grievances with him, but there was one major issue. 

He sat in a throne clearly meant for Anakin. 

Anakin was the chosen one, meant to bring balance, and he had. Anakin had ended the war when he destroyed the Separatists and he’d brought down the oppressive, misguided Jedi order. Anakin was the most powerful Force user in the galaxy, it was plain to see. Palpatine was just a manipulative politician who hadn’t realized the full extent of the Sith teachings- that the master was meant to die. The student was meant to kill. If anyone was meant to rule the galaxy, it was Anakin! He was meant to bring balance, and had learned from the dark and the light side of the Force. That was certainly more than Palpatine could claim!

You’d spent your time around politicians. You knew how they think. You’d spent time around Sith, and knew what they valued. 

Which made Palpatine was easy to read. 

“You want to kill me,” you stated, one night, when you’d gotten him alone.

“My friend-”

“You know that I’m the one thing that keeps you from controlling Anakin completely.” Sidious didn’t respond, knowing he was caught. “And you need to control him, because you know he could destroy you, if he wanted to.” 

“That’s fine, I respect that,” you said, a nonchalant shrug to your shoulders. Anakin’s pain had been such a raw, burning feeling, for so long, that nothing affected you anymore. “Just know that if he knows you’re involved in my death at all, he’ll turn against you. Know that I won’t die without a fight- and the louder a fuss I make, the less he’ll trust you.” You turned from him without being excused, and approached the door, stopping within its frame to add one more thing.

“He’s smarter than you give him credit for,” you said, a threat in your tone. 

Palpatine had told Anakin that you were dead, that day. So now, he knew that Sidious was willing to lie to him. 

Anakin doesn’t take to deceit very nicely.

So, not long after the very nice conversation you had with Sidious, the throne and title of Emperor belonged to Anakin Skywalker, Emperor Vader. 

The details of how such a change happened don’t matter to much. Palpatine was very old, you see, he’d lived quite a long and successful life...

The grandest achievement of it, of course, the Galactic Empire, was passed on to his once-pupil to rule as he saw fit. 

And damn, did it look good on him. 

It was the first morning you and Luke have spent together. You woke up a few minutes before him, rays of both Tatooine’s suns hitting you right in the eyes, the chill of the night still floating in the air. One of your arms completely numb and immobilized by your lover’s body - you couldn't be exactly sure how he had managed to twist it so tightly around his waist while sleeping.

However, you too, weren't a completely unproblematic person to share a nap with. You could only imagine how sore his neck would be that day, as it was bent in a rather weird way, head partly resting on the bed frame and a pillow. On top of that, your own body, comfortably crushed on his chest.

“Luke?” you breathed softly, your voice a bit hoarse. The discomfort related to your position growing. “Can you move a little? I can’t feel my hand.” 

You couldn't help but chuckle at the sudden and rather hilarious grimace on his face.

“Hm?” he mumbled eventually and slightly raised his head, eyes still half closed, brow furrowed. It wasn't hard to notice that he was doing his best to even keep his eyelids open. Once he finally realised the meaning of your words he immediately jumped up, apologetic look clearly visible on his sleepy face. ”Geez, you're right. I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright.” You lifted your numb hand with your other one and squeezed it in a couple of places, hoping to restore the circulation. Luke watched you in silence, his lips tighten, blonde hair bent in every possible direction. “Sorry for waking you up, but I really couldn't take it any longer.”

He gasped noiselessly, apparently offended by your assumption about him being asleep.

“Nothing to be sorry for, I ‘ve been awake for a while now,” he stated, a small yawn coming from his mouth afterwards.

You grinned and shook your head in disbelief. Your boyfriend was without a doubt the gentlest and kindest person you have ever known.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” you smirked, a wide and goofy smile creating on Skywalker's lips.

“You think so?” he asked playfully, pretending to be greatly surprised. Shortly after, one of his hands reached to your aching arm and kindly placed it between his palms. “Here, let me do this for you.”

He started massaging your sore muscles. You didn't protest for even a second and gladly accepted his gesture. His touch was warm and tender, making you wonder what on earth you have done to deserve such a lovely man.

At some point he stopped and froze, almost motionless. His piercing blue eyes fixed on your palm connected to his, your fingers firmly tangled together. You raised your eyebrows in question.

“What are you doing?” you asked, when after a while he was still stubbornly staring in silence at your joined hands. You started to feel a little awkward.

"I like the way your hand fits in mine," he declared out of nowhere, his voice sincere and clear.