In endless darkness

The scent.

This horrible, disgusting scent of charred skin.

His skin, he realizes with horror.

And he slides further and further into the abyss. He is going to die and he knows it. He feels the river of lava down below in his bones. Feels its warmth, its claws reaching out to bury him after it ripped off its skin. It gets nearer and he doesn't even have enough strength to curse Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan.

The name is bitter even in his mind. Thinking of him only increases the pain and he pushes him firmly out of his mind. Not now.

Not. Now.

He is going to die and it comes to him with an eerily calm. He welcomes it. The pain is unbearable and he wants it to stop. He only wants the darkness to engulf him. He only wants to stop thinking. Finally stop thinking, feeling.

No hope. Nothing.

He whimpers horribly as he feels his skin literally scratching at the hot sand.

Will it stop? Will it finally stop?

Please, let me die, please…

And he slides, and he closes his eyes, barely grasping the ground with the mechanical arm. There is this voice in his mind telling him he deserves this.

"You were my brother and I loved you!"

He whimpers again and he doesn't even know if it is the physical torture or his very soul shattering here on the sand with no one to hear it. It cries out in agony. It cries out, begging for mercy. And suddenly the proximity of the hot waves doesn't even reach him as something icy slides through him, gripping him in. He knows who he is. He doesn't even have to hear his voice in his head.

Live, my apprentice. Live.

He ignores the voice with all his might. Live? He doesn't want to live. Not even to kill Obi-Wan and make him pay.

He doesn't want to live.

But the darkness is there, it looms, spins around him, waiting for him to give in. He feels the hot sting of tears blind his vision.

Please… Let me die…

And suddenly the darkness recoils, flees and something shifts. His pain reaches a pinnacle and he squeezes his eyes shut, blinded by the hard feeling.

Anakin…

The whisper makes its way into his very core and he whimpers.Her voice taunts him, drapes over him and his hand reaches out on instinct to grasp the ground. Right before falling into the abyss below his broken body. The voice reaches something inside him and he feels their connection springing back to life, the very connection he pushed away when he duelled Obi-Wan, knowing full well that he had to concentrate at all costs and let go of the vision of her slumped body on the floor.

She is alive. He can feel it in every single bone of his remnants. He feels the blinding light, reaching for him and he feels her.

Padmé.

For a precious instant, the pain is reduced. For a precious moment, he can feel everything about her. Weakness. Sadness. Her face flashes before him. And his nightmare taunts him. Again. She screams in his mind. She screams and he squeezes his eyes against the vision. She is suffering. He feels it like it were his own.

Anakin!

Her voice again. He fights against the bile rising in his throat, the scent making him whimper in disgust. She is calling out to him. And her face beckons him further until his hand grasps the ground as he hauls himself with extreme difficulty.

Padmé…

She is alive and she needs him. Somehow it is enough. He groans in pain but doesn't let go. All this… for her. He won't let go now. Her light, her hope shoot through him. He hisses loudly, feeling his lungs heaving with pain.

Help…

He needs help, the mechanical hand not strong enough to sustain his broken body. He has to see her again. The pain is nothing next to seeing her again.

She is alive.

Hope begins to crumble down though as he glances up, seeing only rocks and hot sand.

Please…

He is reaching out again, slowly, the hot wind sweeping on his fragile skin, entailing a sharp cry from him. And suddenly he sees them, figures, moving and the darkness is there, luring around him. His Master.

He feels him approaching and lets go, almost sighing in relief.

He will live. She will live.

Pain.

He thought he knew what it was but he was a fool. It feels like dying now at every single breath taken. It burns every time he tries to inhale. Every time he feels movement on his skin. It hurts at every single move. The cold material of the table doesn't even reach him. He only feels burning.

He wants to die. Again. If only to avoid this… If only…

But her face looms before him and he holds on. He feels her more than before now.

She is in terrible pain, reaching out to him just like he reaches out to her hungrily. There is no betrayal anymore. Not even the darkness it seems. She envelops him into her warm embrace and he wants to cry. He forgets everything, even the iron grip around his heart.

Anakin, please!

He squirms on the table. Does she need him? He tries to call out to her but all he can feel sweeping from him is pain. It is so excruciating he yells as the droids attempt to treat him. His golden hand reaches out blindly, trying to crush.

Make it stop! Please!

It hurts so much, the ceiling becoming blurry as his head spins.

Her pain increases in response.

No… No…

She feels his pain. She is crying out now and the face of his dream comes over the voice in his head. Dull ache increases inside him and he whimpers on the table. Her pain? His? He doesn't know anymore, their feelings fused like ones. Regret, shame, betrayal, sadness, despair, pain… blinding, pure love.

Padmé!

She is there, barely out of his reach but he cannot join her. Too weak. Numbness sweeps inside him and he barely feels the material under him or the tubes inside his body.

But he sees it.

A tomb. Something is being lowered on him and he shakes his head hopelessly.

No…

He feels like he cannot breathe. He tries to move but he cannot. And he watches helplessly as it closes on him. It is sealed and he feels sick.

It is dark, the vision blurry around him, the lights fading, the sounds horribly distorted. He only hears his own ragging breath inside. And suddenly he doesn't even breathe anymore. The sound is even worse than the vision. It is breathing. But it is cold and calculated. Regular. Slow. It takes him seconds before realizing that this is his breathing.

He wants to scream, wants to wrench the mask, thisthing out of his face but he is trapped and he is too weak to even put up a fight. He feels like suffocating and the darkness envelops him. He tries in vain to hold on, feeling Padmé getting weaker.

His thoughts try to form her name, try to reach out to her with the Force. But he is too weak. She cannot hear him. The darkness wins.

He is brought back to consciousness harshly.

Rising. He is rising. The red vision is still there and he can do nothing, feeling the binds around his wrists.

"Lord Vader? Can you hear me?"

The voice sends a chill down inside his spine and he finds himself relieved he can still feel something. His Master. This name… Only he calls him this way. The one who saved him.

"Yes, My Master."

The words leave his mouth and he blinks. The voice… Is it his? And he realizes there is nothing left of his body, of himself. His whole being turns to her almost immediately but he only feels echoes of himself in the dark. He feels a little bit stronger this time and he tries.

Padmé? Can you hear me?

Nothing.

The emptiness is like a physical blow. Is she so weak she cannot feel him? Or has she given up on him, cutting off the connection and leaving him in the darkness? The thought leaves him cold and all he can see is her slumped form on the platform. Was she left there? Is she still on Mustafar or did Palpatine take her with him? He is close to panic now and only one question plagues his mind as he turns towards his Master.

"Where is Padmé?" The tone doesn't betray his emotions, close to the surface now. "Is she safe? Is she all right?"

He reaches out again and only there is only cold around his heart. He feels nothing.

Padmé!

"It seems in your anger, you killed her…"

The words settle inside of him coldly.

No. It's impossible. No.

Padmé!

Nothing. There is nothing, only void.

She can't be dead. She- No. He felt her. Earlier, she was with him, she-

Padmé! He yells through the Force, his scream echoing as he searches for her, everywhere, anywhere to find her.

"I-I couldn't have!" He hears himself saying. "She was alive, I felt it!"

He felt it when she was on the floor there, he felt it when he was sliding on the hot ground, felt it when he was being operated! She was alive, she-

But he feels it now. There is nothing and he knows. He knows in his heart, in his entire being that she is gone. Dead.

Everything goes dark around him, inside him. She is dead and there is nothing left. He should have died there, should have stopped fighting the lava, death. And something else suddenly crashes on him.

You killed her.

And he remembers. His fury, the betrayal, the coldness around his heart and a glove reaching out. The agony he felt through the Force. And she died. Alone. Because of him.

He doesn't notice the items trembling, nor does he notice the material shattering around him.

He can only feel pain. Pain so acute he cannot see anything anymore. It is there, in his chest and he doesn't even want to escape it. He thought he discovered real pain on the operating table but this, this, transcends everything. And he shakes his head, trying in vain to feel her once again, though he knows she is gone.

Padmé! He yells again. Everything shatters inside him as surely as the droids around him do and he feels the darkness around him, gleefully drinking from his suffering. And he barely notices the ugly whimpers escaping him as his soul is ripped from him.

You killed her.

The chains around his wrists break and he stumbles on his shaky legs. He wants to scream, wants to die, wants to stop it, because he simply cannot live anymore. All this… for nothing! All this… He wants to scream her name but even her name burns on his tongue and there is nothing left. His child, his-

"No!" He yells at last when the lump on his throat escapes. "No!"

It can't be!

And he wants to die but it's too late. His body is no longer his. He doesn't even deserve it. Death would be such a beautiful respite for the monster he is.

The pain turns into hatred. It burns through him, nurtures his broken soul and the darkness looms around him again. The tears blind him and he tries to grasp for the light. But there is none. He doesn't deserve it. Anakin doesn't deserve anything.

And he lets go.

The darkness gathers around him, enters, chases the light away. His heart disappears.
There is nothing. Not even death. Not even emptiness.

Nothing.

Nothing but endless darkness.