ONLY A FOOL

Chapter 1

Why Mustafar? Why did you come here? You never did like heat, yet here the lava spurts uncontrollably, the smoke thickens the air, and the ground itself is charred and ashy. It crunches under my feet and turns my boots black.

Black. That awful color. Ever since you got your own starfighter, that black one, you've been obsessed with the color. Your robes, your room, even your hair somehow got darker. It used to be sandy blond and I always commented on how strange it was that so light a color could get so dark. You kept insisting that it had always been that way. I was afraid to comment on the condition of your heart. It used to be a shining beacon, but now it's like the ground beneath my feet. Charred. Would you have said that it had always been that way, just like your hair?

I pick my way over these black, dusty hills wondering why I'm here. As hard as I try, I can't come up with a reasonable answer for that. I'm here because you're here, I guess. Despite the fact that I was your master, I always ended up following you around, cleaning up your messes. More often than not I took a backseat to your heroics. You were always the more flashy of the two of us, waving your lightsaber around dramatically as you recalled the tales of our daring rescues… your daring rescues.

You always included me in them for some reason. I hate to admit it, but you were often the one doing the rescuing and I was often the one needing rescuing. Then again, it was usually you who would get us into those messes and then I would get into trouble trying to get us out of them. Then after I had done the dirty work, you would chop a few droids apart and rescue me from certain death. It got rather annoying, actually.

I remember how we used to tease each other. I think that you thought I didn't have a sense of humor when you first started training under me. You would always complain that I was stone-faced, unemotional. I think it was hard, because you wore your emotions on your sleeve. I remember the first time I let slip a bit of my renowned sarcasm.

You were cooking, or attempting to cook, one of those instant dinners in the microwave and the brownie heated up way before the macaroni. You burned the brownie and started swearing at the microwave like you had a personal vendetta against it… course, you probably did. I walked into the kitchen and asked who was winning. Bad joke really, but the look you gave me was worth it. I think that was the most sincere smile I have ever gotten out of you. Since then I've been counting the number of sincere smiles you've given me. My goal was to reach fifty before you were knighted.

I only made it to nineteen.

The first thing I spot is your black starfighter, sitting in a little dip between two hills. It's the first piece of physical evidence telling me you're actually here, though I've sensed your presence ever since I landed. It's hard not to miss your force signature. It's still brighter than Yoda's, though I would never tell you that. You've got a big enough head as it is. It's diminished, though. No, that's the wrong word for it. It's… colder, empty.

I walk past the starfighter, knowing you're not inside it. You're over the next hill, I can feel it. I stop and glance down at the little metal cylinder hanging down at my waist. Will you make me use it? I don't want to. You have no idea how hard I begged Yoda to let me fight Palpatine, though I know I wouldn't have lasted more than a minute. I don't want to fight you, brother. Can't you see that?

My legs feel heavy as I trudge to the top of the hill. Then it's my heart. It feels like lead when I see you not thirty yards away gazing out over the river of lava. You're still wearing your black Jedi clothes, though they never did seem very Jedi-like. You turn and look at me and I immediately shut my eyes, trying to remember the image of a little blond-haired nine year old with a big smile on his face and freckles on his cheeks. What happened, brother?

I know you're behind me before I turn around. You always were trying to sneak up on me, but you should've known better. I am the chosen one. My powers far outstrip yours, old man. I could beat you down with just my mind. But I'm not going to. That would be merciful and that I am not. You took everything from me: my mother, my emotions, my pride. You always said being a Jedi was the greatest gift anyone could ever dream of. You lied to me.

The Jedi are liars. As I turn around I see you grimace and shut your eyes as quick as you can. I smile, but there's no warmth in it. You don't deserve any kindness after stealing my life away. You were always holding me back, refusing to let me reach my full potential. I think you were embarrassed to have a padawan who was more powerful than you. I would be embarrassed.

It's a shame you survived Order 66, though I have to admit that I'm almost glad. Now I can repay you for what you've done to me. Qui-gon should have been my master, not you. You were a cold-hearted, stone-faced, completely insensitive master who knew just what to say to make me feel completely worthless. I would show you a new move with my lightsaber that I had finally perfected and you would just give a curt nod and then find something wrong with it. I wanted to go after my mother, but you said attachments were forbidden. You wouldn't even help me with my homework. You wouldn't listen to me when I tried to explain my actions.

I love the expression on your face right now. It's probably the first real emotion I've ever witnessed on you before. You were always known for that. You and your poker face. Your eyes were even unreadable and it infuriated me, though there was a touch of arrogance in them at times. You always thought you knew best. You were considered one of the wisest living Jedi. I was even proud to have you as a master at one time. I realize now that I was a fool to believe something as ridiculous as that.

If you were wise, you would have fled as far from this planet as possible, because only a fool would think that they could defeat me.

I open my eyes and the picture of happiness fades from my mind, leaving the fiery plains of Mustafar and a smiling young man standing in front of me. The smile holds no warmth. It saddens me that I've lost count of how many times I've witnessed that smile on your face over the years. You haven't lost your cockiness, at least. That's always been your trademark no matter how many times I told you that it was unbecoming of a Jedi. Your eyes hold a tinge of red in them. I force myself to believe that it's just an irritation from the dusty air… please let that be the truth.

You just stand there, staring at me. Your right hand rests near your lightsaber. I find myself wondering if it's still blue, or has it turned red? No, because your eyes are just irritated, right? It's still blue, I reassure myself. I look down at the ground, not wanting to believe what is standing in front of me. Maybe it's all an illusion, or a bad dream. If it's a bad dream, then I must be in a coma, because this dream is lasting too long.

I hear the crunch of pebbles and look up. You're slowly stalking toward me, your lightsaber out and in your hand, though it's still off. The smile hasn't left your face. I narrow my eyes, trying not to let the tears fall. They've been threatening for hours now, but I swore to myself a long time ago that I would never cry in front of you. I wanted to be strong for my younger brother. "Why, Anakin?" I whisper.

"Why?" I ask him, not believing what I've just heard. I laugh. How can he ask that when the answer is plain as day? He must be the least wisest Jedi in the entire galaxy, and that's saying something, because none of them are very smart.

"Why, Obi-wan? You took everything from me, that's why," I sneer. "You and your Jedi friends stole my life and now you're paying for it. You should have seen me at the temple. I finally got to put all of my new moves to good use, though no one really put up much of a fight. It was boring, really." I stop and relish the pained look on his face. It's the most beautiful thing I've seen. I guess my former master wasn't as emotionless as I thought. I casually twirl the little cylinder in my hand. "Did Yoda send you?" I ask him.

The look he gives me is somewhat unexpected, though not surprising coming from him. It holds a lot of pity, which I need none of. "Anakin, you have no idea –"

"Don't call me that," I snap at him. "It's Lord Vader now and it would do you good to use that title. I might decide to be merciful and let you live." Yeah right; the thought hadn't even crossed my mind.

He sighs, just like old times. He always sighed right before one of his lectures. He looks at me with those infuriatingly penetrating eyes. "Lord Vader." He says the name with both a hint of sadness and a touch of disappointment. I grin at him; it sounds cool with his accent. "What idiot came up with that name?" he asks without as much as batting an eyelid.

I am utterly shocked for a moment. I've never seen this side of him before and it almost makes me want to laugh, but then I realize that he means it as an insult and not a joke. My lightsaber turns on with a quiet hum. I still need to change the color of it. I narrow my eyes and grit my teeth. "That was a stupid thing to say, Obi-wan." I feel my eye twitch as the uncontrolled anger seeps its way to the surface. Despite the fact that I'm twice the fighter he is, I know that he will be one of the toughest opponents I will ever face and not because he knows what he's doing, but because we're brothers… though not for much longer.

I enter into my fighting faze, or what Anakin nicknamed the "Obi Zone". I set my jaw and narrow my eyes. The tears are still threatening and my insides are shaking, but I appear calm and confident on the outside.

The moment I realized that he wasn't going to even respond to his own name was the moment I knew I had to change my strategy. If there was any way I was going to win him back, I would have to crack that pride of his. So, I pulled out my sarcasm as a last ditch effort to tick him off, and it worked. I knew it would, because Anakin always takes things so literally.

It's terribly sad that I'm finally realizing all these new things about him, though I'm sure I knew them all along. I wish I'd talked to him more. Talk talked, you know? I wish he had seen more of what I was going through all those years. I had been too young to take him on as a padawan. And though we joked and teased each other, I know now that it wasn't sincere. Nothing was. Though I pretended it was sincere for my own benefit, because there's one thing that I won't deny.

I'm a hypocrite, a living contradiction. I told him no attachments. What I failed to tell him was how attached I had become to him, as a brother. I know now, even as I let my lightsaber come to life in my right hand, that I could not, and never will be able to fulfill my duty as a Jedi.

You see, Anakin, you're my brother. We have our quarrels, and we have our fights, but in the end you will always be my brother. You may fall into the deepest pit of darkness out there and never be able to jump out of it. But I promise you this: I will always be there at the edge of that pit, waiting for you to jump high enough to grab my hand, so I can pull you out.

But the first thing you need to do for me is jump.