This is just a little oneshot/drabble thingy I had rattling around in my head. It's just Darth Vader's thoughts near the end of RotS, after the dual between him and Obi-Wan and before Palpatine picks him up.
Darth Vader's mind and soul were burning with rage. And now, in an unexpected twist of fate, the outside of his body matched the inside. He was on fire, physically now. Interestingly, that only made him angrier. He lay there in the ash-like dirt, screaming. And Obi-Wan was just standing there! Obi-Wan had said, only minutes ago, that he loved his former padawan, like a brother or a son. Well, that was clearly a lie now! In his mind, Vader vowed he would destroy that man. That useless, lying Jedi. Like all of them were. Like he himself used to be.
But not anymore! Palpatine had been right. Even in his current state, Vader felt powerful. He felt like if he'd had the strength, he would be able to destroy every traitor in the galaxy, single-handedly. It wouldn't be hard, not if he channeled his fury into the task.
Which reminded him. Grunting with the effort, he reached out to the Dark Side of the Force. It did as he told it to do, dousing the flames that had been consuming his flesh. Even when the fire had died, he still felt the burning. He reached out mentally and felt his surroundings. Obi-Wan had gone. He'd left his "son" to burn alive. How dare he! He was going to pay, Vader decided again. Vader was going to find him, if it took years. The coward would probably hide, but the Dark Side would track him down. And the bloody Jedi was going to pay, pay a thousand times over. Vader would make him suffer, suffer like he had himself.
Resolve filled him. He reached out with the only limb he had left (even it was mechanical) and gripped a clod of sooty black soil. With what physical energy he had left, he tried to drag himself forward. He only made it a few centimeters before he had to stop. This wasn't fair! He was a Sith, the Chosen one, a powerful vessel of the Force who . . . couldn't even stand up on his own. Everything had always happened to him; his mother's death, Obi-Wan's betrayal, the fire, those visions-
Padmé. Was she alright? What about their baby? They'd been alive the last time he'd seen her.
She'd probably killed herself, he decided. Killed herself and her stupid baby just to spite him. He wouldn't doubt it. The ungrateful little traitor! She'd been planning this the whole time, he thought. Plotting with Obi-wan. Planning her husband's downfall.
Filled with fresh anger, he reached with his hand again and felt a burning-hot rock under his metal fingers. Pulling again, he managed to get himself a few more centimeters in that direction. Obi-wan thought he'd defeated him? Well, Darth Vader wasn't that easily defeated. The Dark Side didn't give up that easily. It wasn't weak.
Darth Vader's entire being burned. His skin, and whatever else was left of his body, screamed and seared and protested each movement and breath with a new wave of fire. The gases in the air tore at his lungs and rendered his eyes useless. His heart was on fire, too – Padmé, like obi-Wan, was going to pay for everything she'd done. And his soul was absolutely consumed. Everyone and everything was working against him. The Jedi Counsel, who'd called him "too young". Those bloody sand "People" who'd murdered his mother. This lava and the stupid heat it was blasting his ruined body with. His former Master, that old man who thought himself so wise, but was just a cowardly traitor. His lightsaber for not protecting him from Obi-Wan's attack. His wife, who really just wanted to make his life miserable. The Republic. The younglings. Yoda. Civilians. The slave masters. The stupid medics who hadn't arrived yet.
The only thing on his side was the Dark.
And he was going to use it. He was going to use it like fire.