Anakin looked down at Padmé, her body now racked with harrowing shivers, and soaked with a sultry sheen of sweat. "Anakin," Padmé breathed his name between her lips, using a precious bit of air. The way she said it, as though it were the last time, sent tingles up his spine. Padmé's breath caught in her throat, and she went into a fit of arduous coughing. When she had finally stopped, her throat was scratched raw. Padmé took a slow breath in, preparing to speak. Instead, her eyelids slowly closed, and after a moment, she exhaled the most innocent, angelic breath anyone had ever heard. And it was to be her last...

... or so Anakin thought.

He snuggled Padmé's head against his chest, hoping to slake his stabbing, agonizing pain from what he was sure was the most fatal loss in the history of the galaxy. He was lost, gone, he wasn't worth anything without her. A lump formed in his throat, and smarting tears in his poignant grey-blue eyes. What am I going to do? he thought desperately to himself. Out of the blue, Anakin felt someone's hand firmly clap his shoulder, and he was tugged back into a sharp reality.

"Anakin!" Obi wan exhorted, "Anakin, snap out of it! Padmé will be fine! I have the antidote!"

"What!" Anakin shot up, eyes wide, "hurry, get it to her now!" in panic mode, Anakin ripped open Obi Wan's pack, and rummaged around until he found the antidote. He broke off a small piece of the root, crushed it between his thumb and forefinger, and placed it in her mouth. Anakin knelt next to Padmé, and spoke her name, afraid she wouldn't answer, "Padmé," he choked up, but after a moment of screaming silence, and tears, he took a deep breath, "Angel, come back," a tear trailed a gossamer strand down his smooth, battle worn cheek, and dripped off his articulately pointed chin, "come back to me," he moaned in dulcet undertone, meant only for his precious Padmé.

Padmé stirred, her thick lashes hovering open, and she took a moment to chew and swallow the root. Then her eyes lit up at the sight of them, shining brighter than he had ever seen. Brighter than the sunlight they reflected from the opening Obi Wan had cut in the roof, brighter than the moons of Iego, brighter than the angels from the moons of Iego. She gently propped herself up on one arm, and looked up at Anakin, "Ani?" her breath shuddered weakly, "did you give me the antidote? Am I going to be okay?"

"Don't worry Padmé, you'll be just fine," Obi Wan replied in a tenacious tone, placing a hand on Anakin's shoulder and nudging him back, making sure he didn't get into any further involvement with the senator. "If you allow, we will escort you back to Coruscant, where your physical condition can be assessed in the medical bay."

"I will gladly allow it," she tried to get up, and collapsed back onto the ground in fatigue, "I could do with a hand or two," Padmé looked up at the Jedi tiredly.

"Of course," Anakin sidled around Obi Wan's hand and picked up Padmé.

The last thing she remembered was closing her eyes wearily in Anakin's safe, strong embrace.