Disclaimer: I do not own or have any affliation with the people responsible for the production and distribution of the Star Wars Saga.

Synopsis: Anakin Skywalker, after his brief stint as Darth Vader, contemplates his last few days of life as he waits for the birth of his and Padme's child, after which he is sentenced to die for the crimes that he has committed against the galaxy and the Jedi Order.

He had stared out at the marvelously designed and coloured speeders that in their own nauseating speeds surpassed him, unbeknowst to his presence in the chambers that held him captive. The dark hues had surrounded him, and had mercilessly whispered the finality of his fate that he had wrought against himself.

The ghosts of the past had mocked him, their faces in the same look of terror as they had when he striked them down with the blade that had at one point represented good, before it had changed to the menacing colour of blood. Each had assumed him of their personal ills that had come down against them, especially the dark skinned man who in life had brought wisdom and enlightenment to even the smallest and least hopeful creature that came into his path, that was before he was viciously murdered for precurring justice against the dark lord of the sith.

Mace's ghost had haunted him the worst of all the ghosts. His beautiful brown eyes remained focused on him, though words were rarely spoken from the man's smooth lips. He had haunted his every move, when he was alone in the small apartment that he been designated a prison until the final sentence could be officially carried out. Mace had not cared about the sentence, the deed had been committed and nothing could undo it, not even the death of the man who after murdering an entire group of padawans and Jedis, had redeemed himself and removed the darkness that his birth had promised. It had not been good enough in the elder man's eyes, though his cold words had stated otherwise after they had removed him from the trial with the promise of death on their lips for what he had done.

Dryly, he had licked his chapped pink lips, surprised not to find Mace watching him from the darkened corner of the apartment, as he turned away from the hideous window that barred him from escape with its thick, black, twisted ironed bars. He had grown accustomed to the presence that in its solidary form sat in the depth of the shadows that the sun often made, as it sunk quietly into the horizon, allowing the darkness of the world to seep in. It was their silent agreement, something that had kept him from in a mere grasp of power from ripping the bars from its hinges and allowing death to come without the circus of people prompting the poison into his veins. To just allow himself to fall from the window, to meet the concentration of cement that awaited him at the bottom of his fall, if he was not killed before he met the pavement's smooth surface.

In the coming darkness, he had removed the few articles of clothing that in his own denial had been granted to him, that in their own quality still pertained the status and wealth of a Jedi. Yoda had seen specifically to that detail, that his wardrobe remain that of a Jedi, in the warm neutral colours of brown and bash, instead of the orange jumpsuit that he would have otherwise been promoted to wear, like all the other criminals. The traditional long cloak had been the only thing that the security council had refuted could cause some alarm and allow him to slip away, without anyone actually realizing that he was gone due to the cloak's ability to hide the facade in its warm hood. He had missed his dark cloak the most out of all of the fashions that he was allowed to keep, until the end where he would be removed from the physical realm and embraced by the force that had conceived him.

The hot water over his body, as he pushed the button in the refresher, to turn on the water to wash away the thoughts of misery that his solitary confinement except for the few ghosts who on occassion sought his company had caused him. They had taken away his, Padme from him. They in their firm commands had warned either against seeing the other until the labour began and the child were to be born. The tears in Padme's eyes when they had made their cold declaration had remained fresh in his mind, before she had dropped to hear feet in a cold wail of pain, punching her fist to the icy marble floor of the senate justice building. They had restrained him from going to her, to checking that their child was safe within her womb and not disturbed by the tremor of emotions running through his wife's system, to brush away the tears that uncontrollably ran down her face.

The hum of water deafened him, as he lost himself in the thoughts of his dark hair angel, while he scrubbed his arms with the thick block of soap that in a week or two would be replaced when it was down to nothing more than a thin widdle of nothing that could be used to clean the skin of its dirt and scum. It had surprised him to feel the gentle touch of arms wrap about his waist and the soft kiss of lips on his bare, wet back. He had stared down at the hands for a moment, studying their farmiliarity as he felt his visitor rest their head on his back, relaxing to the feel of his body. He had smiled, as he turned himself about to meet the sight of his wife.

"How did you get in?" He had whispered, as he allowed his hand to scroll down her face, to the bottom of her delicate chiseled chin. She had smiled, leaning on her tiptoes to get to his fresh lips to harshly kiss him until they could no longer find the air that they required to breathe. He had stared at her ivory skin, the way her curves had changed since the last time he had seen her, nearly two months before. The way her stomach in its swollen form had grown to be considerably larger than many of the women that he had spotted from his bird perch, as they waddled to and from stores, while he imagined his wife in a similar position, carrying a bag of items that was meant for their little one, when he could not be there.

"Does it matter?" She had questioned, a mischevious smile playing across her face. He had laughed, as he held her tightly against him as their lips met again. He had smiled, as he stared down at her, hugging her tightly never wanting to allow their eternity that they had pledged together to be spoiled by his imminent death that the birth of their child would trigger, according to the judge who had in pity promised that he could at least see the child that would carry his genes before he was executed in a private ceremony that was to be attended only be a few of the senators and the two remaining Jedi to ensure that he was legitimately dead.

He had smiled, after their night of eventual greetings. As she laid comfortably on top of him, with only a thin white sheet covering her fully nude body, that was only illuminated by the gentle waves of the sun. He had smiled, bringing his lips to brush against her dark brown hair. It was there goodbye, he had known that, she was due any day and any day he would be dead knowing that he was a father and that perhaps his wife would betrayed the visions that in the night still plagued him deeply and raise their only child with the love and support that his mother had shown to him in his boyhood. For now, they were together until they were forced to part until they could reunite in the eternity of death.


Author's Note: Sorry about the ending, I couldn't think of any other way to end it without it turning it into a multi-chapter work, which I did not at this time feel like doing because of The Price of Freedom and Back to the Future. Please review, and have a nice day or night.