My Unfortunate Fate

chapter 57

The unknown may be an ally.

Bright lights. That's what pry my eyes open, forcing me awake in an unfamiliar area.

I glance around in a panic, my eyes dancing from the fluorescent lights to the white walls, and down to my body—I am only wearing a thin white gown concealed by a small blanket.

I follow a hint of darkness in the bright room, and my eyes find exactly who I expected. Anakin is sitting in a small plastic chair in the corner of the room, clutching a dark green cloak in one hand while holding his forehead in the other.

That's my cloak. I threw it to one of the gunships when we were chasing Ahsoka, and he must've gotten it after. It seems lightweight in the palm of his hand, dry as opposed to the rain-soaked article I wore during the chase.

"Ani?" I mumble. I am still a bit dazed—probably from whatever medication I have been given—but I am fully aware that I chose to use this nickname.

Anakin jolts up, the eyebrows on his tired face raising in shock. He has been here a long time—possibly days, judging by the sag of his eyes. That can only mean that I have been out for just as long.

"Oh, thank the Force, you're awake," Anakin says, immediately running up to me. His hand settles on my face, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. "How do you feel?"

"Alive," I joke, managing a slight smile.

"That's good."

I attempt to sit up, but a searing pain burns my entire torso, so I slump back down and groan. My whole body tingles with that residual flame, but I don't remember being injured at all. Last I remember, I was...

I don't know.

"Please don't hurt yourself again," my husband insists, pushing me back down. "It was bad enough the first time."

What happened? What's so bad that he has to warn me about it? When did I hurt myself?

"You're confused," Anakin states clearly. "You hit your head. The medics that have been examining you suspect you had a concussion, and if that's the case, you might not remember how you got it. It's also why you've been out cold for three days."

I guess that somewhere along the way, I also forgot he can read my mind.

Anakin's voice isn't trembling now, not as much as when I initially woke up, but there's something wrong. Behind that false confidence lies fear. I wouldn't have to read my husband's mind to know this; when he acts frantically, he's afraid of something.

"Three days?" I focus on the only surprising part of his explanation. "I've been in...a coma? For three days?"

Unfortunately, Anakin nods. "Medically induced. I tried to ask them not to put you under, but you were already unconscious, so there was no point in trying to keep your mind active.

"We're lucky we brought Kix with us. He patched you up so you wouldn't get an infection, at least until we got back to the Temple." He holds out the fabric in his hands. "I brought you your cloak, by the way."

"I saw," I say, letting him drape the robe over my shoulders and settle into it. "How did I get the concussion, anyway?"

My question strips away some of his outward confidence; he seems less sure, more worried. "Do you remember the chase?"

"Yeah."

Anakin takes a deep breath. "We broke off from the group and started running after Ahsoka. Later, we hit a drop that we didn't anticipate... You didn't stop in time, and you fell. I didn't know... It happened so fast, I know I should've seen it coming, and I should've done something to stop—to help—save you..."