A crash resounded within the home as a little girl tentatively approached. She crept around the bushes behind the home and peeked in the window. She could see a large man pounding something and as she looked in within a bit more, she saw it was in fact a little boy. But the girl was hungry and hadn't eaten since the night before so she took this opportunity to sneak in and steal some food that was on a table in the next room.

The man was yelling at the boy in the dialect many people lived here in this area of Naboo, so the girl only understood a few words. They were harsh and hurtful words, but she was more intent on stuffing her face with food and the escaping without being noticed. This wasn't the first time she used the abuse as an advantage, even though it made her sick.

She could remember her mother slapping her hard across the cheek. Sometimes it was about not picking up after herself or the money she failed to bring back because the factory owner thought she didn't deserve it. Other times it was because she was late. The girl didn't understand why her mother hated her and didn't know what to do to gain her love. She was eight-years-old when she ran away from home.

Her language skills deteriorated after that. She didn't speak to anyone and used a stolen knife to protect herself. There were other children, but she quickly learnt not to trust any of them when they took off with her winter cloak. Barefooted, in a gown she'd had for two years that was ripped and hardly fit her anymore, the young girl survived in the streets of Theed by stealing what she could and sleeping during the day time wherever she could find a place to hide.

The runaway knew what it was like to be beaten by someone, even more so what it was like when it was your parents. She hated using it as a distraction, but continued to visit that house. Normally she wouldn't visit the same house more than once in a row out of fear of being caught, but she couldn't resist.

The shouting, the glass crashing, the pleading and apologies, the tears...all of it was so familiar to her. Every night like clockwork, the boy's father would go off on him and she could sneak in and take some food, but tonight, the father stopped earlier than normal and she didn't have the option of leaving.

She heard the thud of the boy's body and found that she couldn't eat anymore. She saw his body unmoving on the carpeting and swallowed what was left in her mouth before starting to leave.

With her exists blocked, the girl went into another room, deeper within the house.

Frightened and scared for her life, she huddled in one of the corners. There were no windows in this dark room. There was no place else to hide and she didn't know what to do. If they caught her, if they knew… She had a feeling they would kill her.

But she had a knife. Her trusty, rusted old knife which she now held out in front of her in case she needed to use it to escape.

It wasn't the first time Anakin had fallen prey to his father's frustrations. He knew it wouldn't be his last. It seemed that no matter what he did, Anakin couldn't ever please or calm his father's fury. The young boy had always known he wasn't like other children; his father had beaten that message into him repeatedly demanding he embrace his powers. Anakin did as he was told and yet it wasn't enough. Even when he was successful it wasn't enough and this too would add to his father's anger.

Having reached a new plateau in his skills, Anakin soon discovered the dark powers was too much for his small form to handle and in fear he tried to withdraw.

'I can't do this fathe—'

'You will do it, you pathetic little worm! You will do it or I will show you a whole new meaning of suffering!'

Frantic, Anakin continued to consume the darkness using it to draw strength to continue to channel more. Blood began to trickle from his nose and the room began to spin. Soon Anakin was losing touch with his body feeling as though his body was being torn apart by the darkness that coursed in veins.

Desperately, he tried to withdraw but it wasn't possible. It was too much, too fast, and desperately, he screamed for his mother to save him. It was a mistake Anakin immediately regretted.

'What did you say? What did you say you little cretin?' he growled.

Anakin screamed as his head snapped when the elder man grabbed him by the hair.

He couldn't say why his father hated him so much, but Anakin believed that his mother's passing had a lot to do with it. The boy knew better than to ask about her or even speak of her; doing so always resulted in violence. But tonight he couldn't help himself.

Soon his father was cursing, calling him pathetic, worthless and weak as he began to unleash Force lightning on Anakin's already scarred and broken body.

When the old man grew exhausted from his Force attacks, he proceeded to beat the child within an inch of his life before storming off in frustration.

Upon hearing the door open and close, the little girl jumped. But the old man just dumped the boy in the room and left. She sighed and slumped back into the corner, waiting for a chance to escape.

Anakin had no idea how long he had been unconscious or even what time of day it was. But he was back in his spartan small room again that was more like a prison cell than a child's quarters. It hurt to move and yet he knew he had to get up; his wounds would fester if he didn't clean them and soon. So with great care, he slowly sat up all the while struggling not to whimper lest his father hear and return to finish what he had started. The only light in the dark room was a small crack coming from the floor of the door. It wasn't much but it was enough to orientate him. It was also enough for Anakin to catch the reflection of a blade.

His father had been there all along! Watching and waiting for him to awaken to test him further!

Anakin stifled back a shout—he knew how much the old man hated to hear him cry out—such signs of weakness were never tolerated.

As the girl's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she noticed there actually was a window, though she didn't see earlier in the pitch dark room. She heard the figure moving in the darkness, slumping against the wall and rose to her feet. It was now or never. She would have to make a run for the window to try to escape that way.

Immediately Anakin shrank back before noticing that the shadowed figure was far too small to be his father. His eyes widened in terror as his thoughts ran wild. Could the darkness have manifested itself in physical form? There was only one way to find out. Mustering all his strength, Anakin spoke to the darkness as he struggled to rise to his feet. It was a very painful process and in the end he was forced to lean heavily against the back wall.

'Who—who or what are you?' he whispered hoarsely into the darkness.

He asked her a question, she could tell by the inflection of his voice. It wasn't the adult, which was a relief, because to the little girl, all adults were scary and mean. It was the boy, but she didn't know if he found out that she stole food from them. If so, then she would be in trouble and no doubt his father would beat her too or worse.

She took a chance and raced to the window, trying to pry it open, but it was stuck or too heavy for her tiny arms.

His question was met with pattering of bare feet and his first glance to what appeared to be a young girl. She looked like she could have been his age but she was small, too small and thin. Her clothes looked as tattered as he felt, but it was her face now lit in the moonlight that captured his attentions. Anakin had never seen anyone so beautiful. He opened his mouth to speak; almost about to ask if she was one of the mythical beings said to reside on Iego's moons. But the question was absurd and he could hear his father berating him for it.

Of course she's not an angel, you foolish boy! Look at her does; does she look like a Force spirit from those pathetic tales? Imbecile!

She grunted, trying to open the window as tears came to her eyes. The knife slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor. She froze in terror. The moonlight shown brightly through the window and into the room. The little girl faced the other person in the room, hoping that they would just let her go.

The clatter of her knife snapped Anakin out of his thoughts and despite his wounds Anakin forced himself forward so as to pick it up for her.

She stared in horror as the boy approached. He picked up her knife and she scrambled to the window, trying again to escape, thinking that he was going to use the knife on her. She tried to tell him no, her hands up in defence as she tried to escape.

Anakin approached carefully ignoring his wounds for the moment as he tried to help. He could feel the girl's fear and was confused by it. He hoped she'd stay but didn't want to stop her if she felt the need to leave. '...You—you know don't have to go if you don't want to-but if you do the front door is this way,' he said in shy tones as he picked up the knife and offered it handle first to her.

Anakin didn't think to ask why she was there or if she had planned to hurt him with her knife. He could tell she was a lot like him and despite not even knowing who she was or where she came from, Anakin hoped she'd stay, even a little while.

His words were soft and kind. She stared at him, not knowing what to say. She looked at him curiously when he hand the knife to her. She took it from him and examined the knife before looking back at him. She tilted her head to the side, wondering why he was speaking to her nicely. What did he want from her? She didn't speak but put the knife away.

Biting his lip he watched as the girl took the knife and examined it. Anakin wondered then if perhaps she had meant to use it on him. A part of him almost wished she would, at least it would be swifter than what his father had in mind.

She put away the knife and remained still. Not sure what to make of it Anakin decided that if she was going to stay maybe they could both clean their wounds together.

'I'm going to get a cloth and some water,' he explained softly before slowly making his way to the door.

She saw the wounds caused by his father and wished she was able to understand his language. The few words she knew in Basic were mainly rude phrases and curses. But when he moved to leave, she wondered, 'No go?' For she didn't want him to leave her here alone. 'Don't.'

The girl knew what 'water' was and just repeated the word softly. 'Water,' she murmured, for she was thirsty. Even though it was dark, she could see better now and the boy, he wasn't that much older than her, at least she didn't think so.

The young girl whispered water and Anakin nodded noting then that she was thirsty. He wondered if she was hungry too. Her question caused Anakin to pause. Furrowing his brow he faced her and offered his hand. Perhaps it was better she came with him.

She stared at his hand as though it was a weapon at first, uncertain what he was doing. But then he grabbed her hand and she followed along with him. He wasn't mean or gruff in the way he treated her and it was an odd sensation, holding another person's hand. It was a little preoccupying, but not as much as the sight of food was.

'We have to be quiet, if my dad wakes up-we could both be in trouble,' he said softly as he opened the door with the force. It was just quieter that way.

Her hesitance reminded Anakin a lot of himself and how he was with his father. It also encouraged him to show her that he wasn't like the old man at all. For this reason he shyly offered her some water and then guided her to choose something she might enjoy.

Leading her into the kitchen Anakin went to get her some water and some food that was in the fridge. It took him longer than usual as his wounds were angry and wouldn't give him peace. But soon he had a variety of different food set out on the counter.

Anakin immediately noticed that her hands were calloused like his own. He rather enjoyed the feel of it against his skin, how it fit so perfectly in his own. It was distracting and helped him ignore his own wounds for a bit.

With a hopeful smile he looked at her and offered some water before motioning to the dishes. 'Is there something you'd like?' he asked softly.

Had he taken her here to accuse her of stealing? He was still speaking softly though. But it was easier to see the boy here and to also see the severity of the wounds all over him. Dormé was taken aback when he offered her water, but she took it as well as the food. She was hesitant at first and watched him the entire time as she ate and drank. He didn't yell or berate her as she stuffed her face until she was full.

He couldn't help but grin in joy the entire time she ate, feeling as though somehow he had helped her in some small way but not fully understanding how. Only when she was finished did he quietly put away the dishes and guided her to the fresher to collect some old cloths and cleaning supplies.

His father insisted that Anakin tended to his wounds, it was necessary to properly clean them before the next day. Anakin learnt the hard way why and as he collected some supplies his eyes drifted to the scars on the little girls jaw. It would seem she too learnt a lesson or two the hard way.

SHe didn't know what to make of his smile or the way he seemed to watch her with a guarded curiosity that intrinsically reminded her of herself. But once she had her fill, she was being ushered to the fresher.

Carefully he put ointment on the cloth and gingerly reached out to clean some of the young girls wounds. 'I'm sorry this might sting a little,' he warned before gently touching the wound.

She hissed when the ointment touched her skin and slapped his hand away, not knowing that he was trying to help her.

Anakin gave her an apologetic look as she slapped his hand away. It was clear that she didn't understand what he had intended to do and so he turned the ointment onto his own wounds. He bit his lip fighting back the tears and soft curses of pain. He only tended to the worse of his wounds before turning his attentions back to hers.

But after seeing him tend his own wounds, she was less reluctant to be on the receiving end of his care. She recalled seeing some of the brutality his father unleashed upon him and how she could feel the pain in her own jaw, for it had been broken by older children trying to steal from her. If he had experienced such things and wasn't trying to hurt her, maybe he was OK.

Even though it hurt, she mimicked him, remaining stoic and staring up with trusting eyes into his blue orbs, while he tended her wounds. It was an extremely odd experience but she would remember it for a lifetime.

This time she was ready and Anakin carefully cleaned her wounds giving her shy smiles as he did so to show that he hadn't meant to hurt, rather help.

She tried to be strong but the pain from the antibiotics stung her. She blinked back most of her tears. Tears were a sign of weakness and she didn't want him to think she was weak. In the fresher, it was so bright compared to the boy's room and she could see every injury.

Anakin watched her intently gauging her emotions. When the pain was clearly too much he paused in his administrations and took to gently blowing over the wound. In the past he found it often helped.

'Why?' she asked, gesturing to his wounds. 'Dad?' she asked.

Her question caught him off guard and Anakin bit his lip as he faltered wondering whether or not to speak of his wounds to her. But it seemed the young girl already knew who caused him and his cheeks burned as he weakly nodded.

She pointed to some of her wounds on her arms. 'Ama,' she said, trying to tell him that it was her mother who did those. She pointed to her cheek and jaw, saying in her native tongue that it was a boy she didn't know who was a lot bigger than her.

The term she used was one he wasn't familiar with. Confused, he studied her and taking a chance lightly touched her thoughts. Anakin wasn't trained to do such a trick; it was something he had learned over time, a means of surviving. It often helped him to know the state of his father's mind, so as to know if it was safe to leave his room to clean his wounds or remain put. Now he touched the girl's thoughts to help understand. The images were clear, frighteningly so and immediately Anakin drew back not wanting to read her thoughts as he only wanted to know what ama meant.

'Your mother did this? But I thought mother's were supposed be nice?' he asked sadly. She continued motioning to her jaw and cheek though Anakin didn't understand her words he knew enough to know that her mother didn't cause this.

'But why? Who would do that to you? You're a nice person!' he said softly as he gingerly reached to touch her cheek. He understood why his father beat him, Anakin wasn't the quickest of learners and given his power he should be a great warrior by now. But this girl had done nothing to deserve her wounds.

Though the girl remained unaware of the fact that he touched her thoughts, she wouldn't have minded either way. But when he spoke again, she somehow seemed to be able to understand him more clearly as though he were speaking Uriashian instead of Basic. She nodded when he mentioned her mother and tried to explain her other wounds. She shook her head when he asked why because she didn't know the answer. 'Bad girl,' she tried to tell him, repeating some of what her mother often chided her for in Uriashian, but he didn't seem to understand what she was talking about.

Anakin furrowed his brow to the girl's words finding it strangely easier to understand her now thought not entirely certain why. 'You're not a bad girl at all,' he gently assured her as he took her hand and guided her back to his quarters. 'In fact, I think you're the nicest person I've ever met,' he said in honest tones.

She was even more curious about the boy than before. He seemed to think not only that she wasn't bad but also that she was nice and he was so kind to her. Having little to no experience with people being nice, let alone kind to her, she believed that he was good too and hardly deserving of what happened to him. She thought they were kindred spirits, having both been wrought with evil and violence in their lives, though not at the fault of themselves.

Only when her wounds were entirely tended to did he finished tending to his own. Though his body still ached it, wasn't nearly as bad as before and it gave him the strength to lead the young girl back to his room.

'It's safer here,' he admitted softly with a sheepish look. Once they were in his room, Anakin carefully closed the door and tried to cover the opening so no light would come through. 'In case he's awake or gets up,' Anakin explained before slowly moving to the bed where he then proceeded to sit down on the floor. Anakin didn't like messing up the bed as it always made his dad so angry if it wasn't properly made the next day.

She liked the way this boy looked at her and smiled. She liked how tenderly he touched her, unlike any touch she experienced in her life that she could remember. She followed him back to the dark room. 'Safe?' she repeated, now associating this word not with the room, but with the boy.

Her smile made the freckles on her cheeks dance and for a moment, her beauty mesmerized Anakin. He paused but soon collected his thoughts knowing if they remained here too long his father would learn of her presence here.

'Sit with me?' he asked with a small smile. He hoped she wouldn't leave just yet.

She mimicked him, sitting on the floor. 'Dormé,' she told him, pointing to herself.

Anakin nodded to her question and took a seat on the floor. 'Nice to meet you, Dormé,' he said as she introduced herself.

'Safe?' she asked, pointing to him, while her other words of introduction were in Uriashian.

Anakin shyly shook his head. 'Safe-' he pointed to the room and the closed door. 'It's safe here,' he said softly before pointing to himself, 'Anakin. I'm Anakin.'

'Anakin,' she repeated to the best of her ability.

He nodded as she spoke his name. Anakin rather liked how it sounded when she spoke it. As though her gentle accent and musical voice made it almost beautiful to his ears.

He paused for a moment before giving her a hopeful look. 'Friends?' he pointed between himself and her.

'Friends?' she repeated in the same tone as Anakin, mimicking his motion with her hand. 'Friends.'

'Always friends, now and forever,' he solemnly swore when Dormé mimicked his actions. She spoke of resting and Anakin grew hesitant he feared waking up alone, feared even more so that his father would find them both.

She tried to suggest that he get some sleep.

'Stay with me?' he asked softly.

'I'll stay,' she promised, hoping he would let her. She wanted to remain in case his father came back, so that she could protect him. She didn't want to see him hurting anymore.

Her promise brought a new smile to his lips and taking her hand Anakin motioned to the bed. 'So you can rest too,' he said softly.

His smile at her promise to stay with him also lifted her spirits and gave her a hope she had never experienced before. She shook her head at the invitation to use his bed. 'I stay awake while you sleep,' she replied.

'It's OK. I won't tell my Dad. I'll fix it in the morning you'll be safe,' he explained gently as he squeezed her hand.

'I make sure that no one hurt you. OK?' she asked before pulling the blanket over his form.

Dormé however felt otherwise and Anakin furrowed his brow as she went to put the blanket on him. His eyes widened in horror as he realized what blanket she had used. 'Oh no, not that one-this one,' he said pulling one of the blankets he had folded under the bed along with a pillow.

She immediately let go of the blanket he told her not to touch, jumping at first and frightened that she had offended him, but then he wasn't like anyone else she had ever met. He wrapped a blanket around her that was twice her size and she smelled it. It smelled heavenly and leant to her becoming sleepy, in spite of her oath to remain awake and watch over him.

'I'm sorry it's just-you should use it,' he assured Dormé gently moving to slip the massive bed throw around Dorme's petite form.

Dormé didn't know why the boy would be apologising to her for a blanket. She hadn't felt such thick cloth since she had been working in the textile factories and to have something this nice to sleep with made her feel incredibly humble. It was so warm and soft...and it smelled so nice.

'I rest on these, you rest on this-' he explained moving to wrap the blanket from the bed around her instead.

'Sleep and I stay here until you wake.'

'We both sleep at the same time-I always sense when my father's awake and wake up too. I'll wake you up and you'll be safe from him!' he explained in hopeful tones. Dormé looked as though she could use some rest too, even more so than he did and this added to his determination.

'Are you sure?' she asked him, deciding that she would just have to share the blanket. She was used to the floor and usually it was a lot colder. Or if she was lucky it was a bed one of the kinattu didn't use during the day and she would sneak in there to sleep. Sometimes the ladies were nice and gave her some food too, but usually they yelled at her and shooed her out.

Anakin nodded to her words and smiled as he wrapped his own blanket around himself. He was startled that she still refused to sleep on the bed and looked at her quizzically. 'You don't like the bed?' Anakin asked in concern wondering why she'd prefer to sleep on the floor with him.

Dormé wrapped the other part of the blanket around him and curled up beside him. 'We'll both be safe,' she replied sleepily.

'Are you sure? It's much more comfortable on the bed and I'd still wake you up before my father comes,' he pressed on before giving in. It was clear that Dormé was sleepy and in truth, so was he. Soon Anakin was curled up next to Dormé and drifting off to sleep.

It was only when he awoke to the familiar shift in the Force that Anakin realised that he had been holding Dormé tightly.

A/N: Coming up -

His body slammed against the post of the bed and soon his father was grabbing him by the throat.

'Kill her! Kill her now!' he ordered as he threw Anakin to the floor.

Anakin staggered to his feet the room spinning violently...