Anakin looked up at Helena and nodded. That was it exactly.
During the Clone Wars he had earned himself the title of Hero With No Fear because of his bold disregard for his own well-being in the face of danger to his friends and loved ones. From the outside looking in he was everything the Republic wanted in their heroes. But in truth that was fear, his courage was driven by the terrifying thought that if he didn’t do everything within his abilities he would lose Padmé or Obi-Wan or Ahsoka, and yes, before he learned of who Palpatine truly was, he cared about that man’s life as well. Isn't that why his mother died? Anakin was brave because he was filled with fear.
And he was afraid of that dark, cold place in his heart, so cold it burned, where the worst of him dwelt. Ever since that night on Tatooine when he’d failed his mother and he learned what he was capable of. It was a truth about himself he’d discovered and didn’t like. And it frightened him, too. It was biding its time, waiting for his defenses to drop. It still whispered its secret, Even the stars burn out.
Helena was right, the reason for his fall was much more complicated than those visions alone. He wanted to believe that, without Palpatine’s manipulative influence, things would not have ended the way they did. But what if he found himself, once again, on a free-fall from which he couldn't pull out?
“I do.” As scared as he was of the darkness within him, he couldn’t deny that a family was one of his greatest desires. It had been since the moment he was plucked from the windswept home he shared with his mother and dropped into the hollow corridors of the Temple and taught to replace love with compassionless detachment. Oh how he’d been jealous of Padmé when he had accompanied her to her parents’ home on Naboo.