Oh, honey, it’s all good - it was painful but also really good. And I got to explore a little about Naboo Religion and their perceptions of their afterlife, which was interesting to create. :D
During his first upgrades, maybe five years after he lost everything, he falls into unconsciousness on the operating table and wakes up to Padme’s shining eyes staring down at him. She’s got her hair down, the wind blowing strands of it across her forehead, and she’s smiling at him the way she did in the middle of the night when he woke up to see her watching him. He can feel her hands in his hair, can feel her nails rubbing softly against his scalp, and can feel the smoothness of the dress she’s wearing against his neck.
“This is a dream.” He says, staring up at her mesmerized. He raises his hand – a flesh hand, attached to a flesh arm, oh he is dreaming – and runs his index finger down her cheek. She’s warm to his touch. She turns to press a kiss to his fingertip and her lips are soft.
He sits up and she moves with him, wrapping her arms around him so she can settle her chin on his shoulder and press against his back. She’s wearing the bracelets he made for her during his first campaign, spray painted yellow and green so they didn’t look so drab. He remembers the first time he saw her wearing them on the Holonet, during a press conference, and he’d been so happy to see them on her he almost floated away.
“Aren’t you happy to see me?” Padme murmurs to him, kissing his neck and jawline. He leans back into her warmth, turning his head obediently for her, and when their lips touch it’s just like always, like coming home and the buzz of a lightsaber coming to life in his hands. He twists in her hold to wrap himself around her and she lets him move, bites at his mouth if he pulls away from her too much, and then she’s pulling him down.
They slide underwater and somehow he knew they’d be water here. It doesn’t try to pull them apart, engulfs them both in its embrace, and it’s cool and gentle. She breathes air into his lungs and he grips at her arms, squeezing just to feel her whole and warm in his hands. She pulls away from him to press their foreheads together and entangles their legs together, like they’re in bed.
The water fans her hair out around her and there are small air bubbles on her eyelashes. Between them is safety and air and perfection. The water here is dark, all around them, but he can see her perfectly fine and that’s all he’s ever needed.
“I love you.” She says to him and he sobs. This is a dream, she’s not real, he murdered her and their child, and so many other people. And children – she’d never love him, not anymore. He presses his face into her neck and she cradles him to her, able to hold him up because they’re suspended in water.
He can’t feel her because she’s not here, because this is a dream, because he murdered her and he doesn’t deserve her here and –
He should wake up and accept his punishment for his actions.