Vader was, as usual, doing his utmost to support an increasingly frail Empire when he heard a knock at the door. He opened the door with the Force, and an Imperial officer stumbled in.

"Yes, Officer?" Vader asked.

The man was blanched, staring at Vader's mask. He began to sway.

"What is it?"

The man pulled himself together a little, and stood straight. He delivered a short message, and Vader expected he would leave. Instead, he stood, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Is there more?"

The man nodded tremulously.

"And?"

"There's a rebel asleep outside your door." The man spoke very quickly, as if getting it out quickly would reduce Vader's notorious temper.

But Darth Vader just sighed. He stood, and walked past the man, who was blocking the door.

Sure enough, his son was curled in the hall. His blonde hair lay limp over his left eye. He had taken off his torn shirt, and arranged it over himself like a blanket. Vader picked the boy up, and carried him back inside.

The officer stared. Vader put the boy on the floor, and nudged him with one toe. Luke rolled over with a soft moan. Vader prodded him again. His eyes opened and he blinked up at his father.

"Do you have any information for me?" Vader asked.

Luke shook his head silently.

Vader turned back to the imperial. "Take him back to the prison."

Luke gave a desperate wail, "Please! Don't send me back there!"

Vader looked down at the boy, who had pulled himself into a sitting position and was gazing helplessly up at his father, sobbing.

"Go on, boy." Vader used the Force to drag his son back to his feet and push him towards the Imperial.

Luke shook frantically, twisting this way and that, as though he thought he could escape his father's grip that easily.

Vader watched the Imperial's expression change from one of slightly frightened confusion to one of triumph. He reached out, grabbing Luke's thin arm. Luke shook harder than ever. But he had stopped crying.

Vader didn't stop to wonder why he'd stopped. Instead, he waved the Imperial away.

Luke was led away by the Imperial, scrambling to put his shirt back on. But apparently he wasn't fast enough. The man hit the child in the head with the butt of a blaster.

He sneered at the boy, "What an inconvenience you are, Rebel. Just always in the way, aren't you?"

Luke gave a helpless wail. Vader saw blood trickling from a wound in his head. He was furious. His son's hair was quickly turning red in the spreading tide.

"If he will be such an inconvenience, I will take him." He walked up and took Luke's arm.

"Oh, he won't really be a problem. He just hates hearing what a waste of time and space he is, don't you, boy?"

Tears continued to race down Luke's cheeks.

Vader pulled the boy roughly away. "Nonetheless, I will take him."

The imperial looked at his prisoner with a vaguely disappointed air, as though he had been looking forward to continuing to beat the child. Then he turned and walked off.

Vader led his son back into his quarters. He pushed the boy into a chair.

"I'm sure you guessed that I am not going to the prison anytime soon. You can live here. Don't get in my way. Don't presume to do anything that might inconvenience me."

Luke nodded.

Vader turned from the boy and returned to his work. Luke curled up tightly, watching his father silently.

Vader stared at the datapads, working furiously. After several hours, he was aware that Luke was sitting at his shoulder, watching quietly. He was about to snap at the boy, but decided there was nothing to lose from his son watching quietly. In fact, when the boy finally gave into the Dark Side, it would be important that the child would understand the Empire more fully.

Luke seemed to have realized that his father didn't mind having him at his side. He crossed his arms on Vader's desk and continued to watch his father working.

Vader was just glad that his son had accepted that he was to be silent. The boy was barely distracting

The next time Vader noticed his son was when the boy slumped on the desk, fast asleep. Despite himself, Vader smiled. He moved his son's head back off his workspace and continued.

Hours later still, Vader stood up to go to his sleeping quarters. He looked down at his son. The boy had yet to wake up, and Vader had absolutely no idea what to do with him. He stood and watched the boy's shoulders move as he breathed for several minutes, before deciding that, seeing as he had told his son that he couldn't inconvenience him, he should leave the boy where he was.

He turned and walked to his bed. As he tried to sleep, however, he kept seeing his son's bloody form in his mind.

Should I leave him there like that? He bled an awful lot when he was hit. Should I be taking him somewhere for medical attention?

Vader knew that he couldn't take his son anywhere to be healed, but still, he wanted the boy to be safe. He didn't like the idea of the boy sleeping in a stiff-backed chair, bleeding furiously. What would the boy do when he woke up in the morning? Would he be frightened? Would he wander back into the corridors?

But those were not Vader's concerns. He should be thinking instead of the trouble his son's initial incarceration had caused. The furious rebels had begun to blunder their way into enough prisons that Vader was considering the possibility that they may have had some idea what they were doing.

As Vader thought these things, it occurred to him to wonder if the Rebels were a better family to Luke than he was.

Between those thoughts, Vader didn't sleep. When he got up in the morning, he was being torn by his feelings about his son. On one hand, the boy was a brat, guaranteed to cause trouble, even with his absence. On the other, Luke didn't want to be. He'd made it quite clear that he loved his father, and would never do anything against him that he didn't find totally necessary. And, of course, there was the fact that the boy was, no matter what else, Vader's son, and badly hurt.

Vader walked into the living area. His son had apparently woken during the night, because he was now sleeping in a small nest consisting of his shirt, and tangled limbs, on the sofa.

Vader walked past the sleeping child, and sat down at his desk. He returned to the work of the day before. On the sofa, Luke made a soft snuffling noise. Vader ignored him. Again, Luke moved restlessly.

Vader turned and saw tears on his son's cheeks. He didn't like the idea of his son living a nightmare, curled up behind him, but he knew that he couldn't wake the boy and comfort him. Instead, he gave the child a sharp pull, dragging him off his perch. The boy would think that he had just rolled over in his sleep, and Vader wouldn't have to hear the sounds of a nightmare.

Luke gave a sharp cry of alarm, and some level of pain, as he landed on the floor. He pulled himself into a sitting position, and Vader turned back to him, pretending to be surprised. Luke was rubbing at his head, and Vader felt a sudden stab of fear for the boy. Had he just made the child's injuries worse?

But the boy's hand came off with merely some flaked dry blood from the night before. He looked at it, and stood, stumbling over to sit in the chair he'd fallen asleep in. He gazed, not at the information scattered across the desk, but at his father, hungrily taking in every aspect of him.

Although the boy was as silent as the night before, he was far more distracting. Finally, Vader gave up trying to complete anything and stood. He walked into the kitchen to get himself food, his son trailing him cautiously.

Vader began reheating a leftover meal. Behind him, he was aware of his son sinking to the ground, still exhausted. As the smell permeated the kitchen, he heard his son's stomach growl. The boy didn't comment.

It occurred to Vader that he didn't know how to deal with feeding his son. Should he leave feeding to his child, or make it something that he controlled? He was just deciding that he would allow his son to decide to get himself food, when his meal was heated. He removed it from the unit, and tried to ignore the way his son's stomach growled even more loudly.

As the third growl came, Luke faked an extremely unrealistic coughing fit to cover it. Hidden in the coughs were little gasps for air, as if Luke was feeding off the smell alone. Vader's resolve was shattered.

He placed his food on the counter and knelt before his son.

"Luke?"

The boy looked up at him, his head tipping ever so slowly. Tenderly, Vader moved the child's head back more quickly.

"Are you hungry, child?"

Luke shook his head and looked straight into his father's eyes. "I'm all right, Father."

Vader didn't believe him, but he stood, taking his meal from the counter and walking to a table. Still his son trailed him.

Vader sat down and began to eat. Luke was doing a pathetic job of hiding his hunger. Vader reached out, and stroked his son's cheek slowly.

"You're hungry."

Luke shook his head, his eyes slightly wild. "I told you, I'm fine."

"You're starving. When were you last fed?"

Luke stared defiantly at his father for a moment before biting his lip. "I don't remember."

"Don't remember?" Vader demanded.

Luke looked rather frightened. "It was a long time ago! They've just injected me with nutrients ever since!"

Vader looked at his son's ribs, which showed even through his shirt. He cut a bit of food for his son, and used the Force to move it to his son's mouth, as he had fed the boy's mother on Naboo, all those years ago. Luke looked at his father, unsure. He nodded slightly, and the child reached out, taking it in his mouth.

A small, shy smile opened on Luke's face. Vader smiled across the table at him. Luke stood up and walked around the table, sitting next to his father and leaning on him heavily. Vader wrapped an arm around his son and continued to feed him.

Slowly, he felt his son relax against him.

At last, the boy spoke, "Thank you, Father."

"Are you full?"

Luke nodded and leaned closer to his father. Vader ate what remained on the plate and stood, helping his son to his feet. Luke began to keel over, and Vader pulled him close, leading him towards his workspace. Vader lowered his son into the sofa before returning to his work.

He was horrified when he was called away to deal with a battle.

"Luke, I have to go for a few hours. You stay here, all right? Don't run away. If you do, I'll have to catch you again and take you back to prison."

Luke nodded sleepily.

Vader smiled slightly. "Be good."

Luke nodded again, and Vader carefully tucked the blanket up to his nose. The boy gave a huge yawn and rolled over. Vader stood, looking back at the thin form curled under the blankets. The boy had already fallen back asleep, by the looks of it.

He'll be fine. Vader assured himself. He won't do anything stupid.

He left.

By the time he returned, he was quite certain that something terrible had happened to his child. But, upon stepping back into his home, he realized that it was not the Force that told him so, but instead a father's instincts, telling him that his son couldn't do anything alone.

Sure enough, Luke was still fast asleep on the sofa. Vader returned to his work, but the child stirred.

"Oh, Father! I wondered where you'd gone!"

"I had to go for a battle. I told you that." Vader said, turning back to his son.

Luke stood up shakily, regaining his seat beside his father. "You did?"

"Yes, I did."

"All right. I guess I wasn't really awake." Luke said.

Vader smiled slightly. Luke began to play with a thread hanging from the tattered cuff of his shirt. Vader stood, finally.

"How are you feeling, Luke?"

Luke sat up from where he had been playing with a piece of lint, flicking it back and forth across the desk. "Much better now, thanks."

"Are you tired?"

"A little bit, yeah. And hungry."

Vader nodded, taking his son's arm and helping him to his feet. "Let's feed you."

Luke nodded, and leaned against his father so as not to stumble. "Thank you."

Vader didn't answer, except to cinch his son in more securely.

The boy walked alongside him, uncomplaining.

Again Vader removed a container from the refrigeration unit and heated its contents. Then he walked back to the table, where he had left his son, and fed the boy. Luke accepted the food, but slowly his mouth opened less, until Vader bent to see if there was something wrong with his jaw. But, no, he was all right. His mouth wasn't the only thing sliding closed. His eyes, too, were not as wide as they had been earlier in the morning.

"Are you done?"

Luke yawned and nodded.

Vader ate his own meal as his son continued to doze under his arm. Then he stood, taking the boy up with him. Luke woke slightly, and gazed sleepily into his father's face.

In an effort to remain at least slightly cold towards the boy, as a personal test, he laid the boy back on the sofa.

Luke didn't protest. He just pulled weakly at the blankets. Vader drew them back around the child and left for his own room.

As he tried to go to sleep, however, he heard small, frightened-sounding noises from his son. He stood, and walked back to the child. Luke was asleep and clearly having another nightmare. Vader felt a pang of sympathy. Carefully he shook the boy's shoulder.

Luke blinked up at him and burst into renewed tears.

Vader reached down to take his son in his arms and comfort him, but the boy tried to squirm away.

"Get away from me! Please! Don't hurt me!"

"Luke? What are you talking about?" Vader stared at the child's frightened expression. Carefully, he reached down again, but still the boy shook and distanced himself.

"Please! Don't hurt me! Not again!" The child's frightened wails became a terrified murmur, "Not again. Please."

"Luke, who do you think I am? I'm your father. I'm not going to hurt you. You were having a nightmare, but you're all right now. You're all right."

Luke shivered, "Dream?"

"Yes. It was all a dream. Whatever it was, it was only a dream."

"All of it?"

"All of it." Vader answered, although he wasn't sure anymore what his son was talking about.

"Even the farm? With Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen? Did I grow up here? Why can't I remember?"

"No, Luke. That's not what I meant. Not quite that much was a dream. And you did spend some time in prison. Is that what you were dreaming of?"

Luke nodded tremulously.

Vader rested one hand on his son's shoulder. The boy pulled back instinctively at first. Then, slowly, he relaxed.

"Sorry I disturbed you."

"It's not your fault, child."

"Still…" Luke said unsurely.

"It's not your fault. Are you going to be all right now?"

"I think so."

"Come here." Vader instructed, holding out his arms. Luke blinked at him a couple of times before crawling into his arms, snuggled against his chest. Vader carried the child back to his own room, resting his son on the bed before going back to get a couple of the extra blankets.

He wrapped his son in a couple of blankets even before slipping him under the blankets already on his bed. Then he crawled in next to him. Luke struggled to free his arms from the bundle and rolled towards his father, a clumsy motion that caused him to roll right into Vader.

Vader laughed quietly. Luke looked up at him, unsure. When he saw that his father was laughing, not seething, he smiled and allowed himself to laugh too.

Vader kissed his son's forehead and pulled the remaining blankets over both of them. In the dark, one of his son's hands flailed until he caught it in his own. It was ice cold. Vader rubbed it slowly, hearing his son sigh softly. After that, his son lay still, though Vader could sense that his mind was in turmoil.

"It's going to be all right, Luke."

"I know. I just don't know how it can be."

"We'll find out."

Vader could sense his son smiling into the darkness. He put one arm around his son. He smiled to himself as he felt his son's shirt, not any of the blankets he had wrapped the boy in. And the child was shivering. He hugged him close, and Luke didn't complain.

"Tomorrow, I'll make it okay."

"I love you, Father."

"I love you too."

Vader didn't know what would happen the next day, of course, but he knew that, no matter what else happened, he wouldn't allow anything to happen to his son.