It was several days before Padme heard back from her father, and they had been some of the tensest days of Padme's summer break. She still hadn't heard from Anakin; she supposed that was her fault. Of course he wouldn't want to talk to her, but she hadn't made an effort either, so they were both to blame. Her concern for him grew each day they were apart. Her sister's words haunted her every waking minute. Your heart's in the right place, but there are some things even you can't fix.
She couldn't fix Anakin – not really. Did she even want to fix him? – but she could try to help him. She was heavily involved now, and she felt obligated to do everything she could. Padme was not one to shy away from a challenge.
When her father finally contacted her, she answered the phone with trembling anticipation.
"Well?" she demanded, without even a proper greeting. She couldn't wait.
"I've been in touch with some colleagues, Padme. Your friend's situation is… difficult…" Padme's heart sank a little at his words. "But," he continued, "if your friend is as brilliant as you say he is, then his criminal record might be overlooked. Might."
"Oh, that's," Padme beamed, suddenly full of hope. "That's wonderful!"
"It's not a certainty, Padme. I had to pull some serious strings to even get that much. My friend, Qui-Gon Jinn, at the University of Chicago has taken pity on your friend. If he sends in samples of his work, and an application, there may be a chance he will get accepted. It's a slim chance, but."
Padme was overjoyed. Ecstatic. Hopeful. "Thank you, thank you so much dad. Really. I…"
"I hope you realise how much I disprove of using such methods, Padme. It's borderline corruption."
"I know, dad," she agreed sadly. Personally, she was against such methods. Her father had raised her that way. But she was doing the right thing, wasn't she? Anakin deserved a second chance. Padme couldn't let him throw away his dreams because he'd made a bad mistake. She simply couldn't. "I appreciate it. Really."
"I know you do Padme. I hope, for your sake, that your friend gets what he wants."
Padme ended the conversation with her father, a smile on her face. Ani, there's hope for you yet. A sense of triumph surged through her. She was closer, one step closer to helping Anakin, to fulfilling her self-acclaimed duty to helping him. With this new knowledge, there was at least a tiny bit of hope that something good might happen. And Padme, being the optimistic person that she was, was willing to take that chance.
She found him where she always found him, underneath the bottom of a car. His fascination with mechanics was adorable. She was glad he had found something he enjoyed, to keep his mind off of his guilt. He needed that kind of respite. At first, he didn't acknowledge her presence, until she called his name quietly. Pushing himself into a sitting position, he stared at her, unblinking, in utter disbelief. Mouth parted slightly, brow furrowed, sweat beading on his upper lip, he looked positively stunning. "Padme." Her name fell from his lips almost like a mantra, but he didn't make to move. There was an expression in his eyes, pain and agony, that was mixed with confusion. Of course, she thought to herself sadly. He was probably expecting me to abandon him.
"Anakin." She approached him slowly, and he got to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. Adorably astonished.
"W-what?" he blurted out. "What're you doing here?" The words were slurred together, almost unintelligible, as he grappled within himself.
Smiling brightly at him, she reached for his hand. His palms were sweaty, but she savoured the feeling of his warm skin against hers, the way his hand dwarfed her, long fingers curling around hers. She ran her thumb over his knuckles, admiring the rough callouses on the pads of his fingers, the dirty oil that stained his skin, the faded scars and newer abrasions that adorned his fingers, like spider webs. These hands had known hardships; they were the hands of a troubled young man in need of comfort.
