[rieliteme]

Там же.

It took another handful of days for the other therapists to start visiting. In that time, he read a lot of papers on quantum math, got mobbed by younglings on no fewer than four occasions, broke a punching bag, slept next to Padmé every night, and kissed her so many times he lost count. Also, he wrote and erased the message to Rex enough that Padmé eventually just stole his 'pad and sent it.

"He's your friend," she said. "Of course he won't hate you."

He got back a whole damned letter:

Naberrie,

Kriffing hells, sir, you do not go crazy by halves. In no particular order:

1. Fucking finally, even if your timing could have been better. Most of us had pegged you for waiting until after the war ended to go public with Amidala. Jesse is happy. And very rich.

2. Chancellor. Palpatine. How the hells was it Palpatine?

3. What the fuck happened that could make you Fall? A 'pit of the Dark side,' or whatever you're calling it, is not enough explanation.

4. Those chips. Those Commands. I - all of us - know you Fell to get that intel. And you got them turned off. They're being removed as fast as the droids can manage during transits.

5. Chancellor Palpatine. I know I said that already, but it bears repeating. Also Dooku being his apprentice. Fuck this war.

6. When are you coming back?

His vision blurred, and Dark came pouring in behind his eyes. He leaned in to kiss Padmé again and then, while he was still glowing with the Dark, had R2-D2 take a picture of them and send it to Rex.

The message was almost instantaneous, accounting for ansible lag.

Fuck you, sir.

He tapped out his reply.

I Fell, Rex. I was as Dark as it gets, for twenty-three years. The Council is worried I've gone insane.

You're only twenty-two years old, Naberrie. And the Council is clearly not paying attention.

"I agree," said Padmé, reading over his shoulder, in the dangerous tone of voice that meant someone who deserved it was about to have something nasty happen to them.

"Leave it, Padmé," he said. He needed to get them used to dealing with a rational, well-reasoned, steel-spined Anakin Naberrie. That wouldn't work if she kept fighting for him.

Time travel might have been involved.

You don't look forty-five in that picture.

He rolled his eyes.

But you believe me.

But I believe you. Current plans?

I learned what being the Chosen One for balancing the Force actually means. It's going to be a lot of work for no reward other than not dying, but on the other hand it's everyone who won't die, not just me.

Still not evil, sir.

He didn't know what to say to that. Padmé did; she stole the 'pad, typed out one word, and then turned it off after sending it.

He didn't get to read what she'd written until the next morning:

Thanks.

@темы: Those Lucas Heirs