"I can't believe they let you teach."

In his room, Anakin was curled around Rory, one hand on her stomach and the other under the pillow where his lightsaber had stayed for so many decades that the habit was impossible to break.

In his head, though...in his head he was trapped inside the vision he'd had of Padmé's death so many decades ago...She was screaming for him, begging as her strength began to fail, whimpering "Anakin, I'm sorry, Anakin...I love you" as her eyes closed on that cold, alien table while he had been a million miles from her, strapped to his own alien table becoming something cruel and horrifying...

He felt the mask lowering down over his face again, the nightmare that haunted him more nights than he cared to count...and then the dream shifted again to something that felt more real...

And now it was Rory he couldn't reach, Rory he couldn't find, Rory he couldn't save. Force-lightning shot from his fingers as he stalked through the halls of the school, blasting those who stood in his way without a second glance, without a twinge of remorse, because they weren't her and she was everything that would ever matter to him....

In bed Anakin's eyes shot open as he took a deep, shuddering breath to stop himself from screaming. It took him a second to realize where he was, who he was next to.

"No," Anakin whispered, voice sounding shaky to his own ears. "Not again."

[OOC: Establishy unless he's woken his lovely wife...]

Like Anakin had really needed another reason to hate August. He hadn't done much more than stare into space since the call from Jaina had ended yesterday--even making baby toys for little Ben had lost its appeal.

Padmé, Obi-Wan, Alderaan...now Anakin and Jacen? All in the same month? Life wasn't supposed to be fair, but would it be too much to ask that it occasionally break towards being unfair in his direction?

As for what Jaina had told him about her descent to the dark side, he still wasn't exactly sure why he was still in his apartment and not tearing across the causeway and to hell with what she wanted. He sighed and stared at his hands some more. It probably had a lot to do with him not being able to move--as if he stayed in one place, maybe she'd call back and tell him it was all a huge mistake.

Anakin didn't have enough optimism to really believe that. With another sigh, he pushed himself off of the sofa and went to find Rory. He'd give just about anything not to have to tell her that two of their grandsons were dead.

[mostly 'stablishy!]

Anakin was on the couch.

Sulking.

And tossing his long blond hair over his shoulders.

And sulking some more.

Like his week hadn't been weird enough--now he'd developed boobs and an interest in watching reruns of Doctor Phil's advice program.

Life sucked.

[OOC: Come on. Like I could pass up the opportunity to use this icon again.]