Luke slumped in his chair. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to think about the meeting he'd just endured. In many ways, he was still trying to cope with the fact that he had agreed that that money hungry man could use the story he'd written.
He put his face in his hands, beginning to feel like every moment was just a short pause longer before he was liable to start crying.
What had happened to him? There had been a time that he would have been humiliated by what he'd just done. But now, he was just tired. Exhausted. He caught himself dreaming of life back on the farm, and felt the first tear trickle out.
What he would give to have his aunt and uncle again. The whole ridiculous and pathetic charade would never have had the chance to happen if they'd had anything to say about it. But even longing for his aunt and uncle was overpowered by his need of his father.
Nick had talked about Anakin as a strange kind of hero in many ways. He had made Anakin sound almost ruthless. But Luke thought, for some reason he couldn't find, even for himself, that his father would have understood what he was going through.
A hand rested itself on Luke's shoulder. Luke opened his eyes and turned to see who it was. He didn't know who it might have made their way into his quarters, and, more perplexingly, who would greet him like that. It might have been something Leia would do, but he would have sensed her coming. Han wouldn't have. Maybe…? He couldn't think of anyone else. But as his blurry eyes focussed, he found himself blinking back tears again.
"Father." He whispered.
His father couldn't possibly be there. He turned away again, curling up on the sofa and feeling ill. He was so desperate, he was hallucinating his father's likeness. He felt the sofa shift slightly as another mass lighted next to him. He turned away further, but the hand was on his shoulder again.
"You're not real. Go away." He mumbled into the arm of the sofa.
"I'm real, Luke." His father's voice paused for a moment. "Well, as real as I have been other times you've decided to accept me."
Luke had forgotten for a moment about that moment on Endor. He turned to look at his father.
"I'm sorry."
Anakin didn't speak, but he smiled at his son. Luke felt his resolve to stop crying shatter, and fell back, away from his father, sobbing. He was quickly surrounded by his father's arms. He allowed his father to pull him close.
He continued crying for several minutes before he was able to drag himself away and wipe most of the tears from his eyes. Finally, he rubbed a few more tears out of his eyes with his sleeve and forced his eyes to focus on his father.
"You can touch me?"
Anakin flickered, "It's draining, but yes."
"Sorry." Luke said quietly. "You don't have to wear yourself out for me."
"Yes, I do. Someone needs to, and your friends are awfully busy."
"Still," Luke ventured.
"Being dead, there's not much I can do at all. I'm glad to be with you."
"I'm sorry, Father. I tried to save you, but things never seem to go right when they really matter to me."
Anakin took Luke's hand again, rubbing it with his thumb. "It wasn't your fault, Son."
Luke was silent; sure his father would sense the doubt in anything he said. Then he shook his head.
Anakin pulled him close again. Luke bit his lip, and held back the tears that were threatening to pour out again. His father started to rub his back gently.
"It wasn't your fault, Luke. I promise you, it wasn't."
"I wasn't strong enough. I couldn't even save you. You were alive for so long after I started trying to help you. But I got tired, and put you down, and when I felt better, and decided to pick you up and start dragging you back to the ship, it was too late. It was so selfish!" His tears began again.
"It wasn't selfish. If you hadn't paused, neither of us would have made it off."
Luke bit his lip harder, hoping to stop the tears, and prevent his father from noticing that they had ever started. "Maybe that would have been for the best."
"No. That would have been terrible." Anakin released his son from his grip, and made the boy look up at him. He noticed the tears on Luke's face, and pushed them out of the way. "I know you've been valuing yourself somewhere below infectious diseases recently, but I want you to understand that you are important. It's like whatshisname said. Even when you can't accept yourself, the galaxy holds you as their hero."
Luke gave his father a watery smile.
Anakin smiled back at him, "That's better. Can I see that smile get a little bigger?"
Luke's smile increased, and he blushed slightly. "You're treating me like a five year old."
Anakin simply shrugged, resting his son back against the back of the couch. To Luke's horror, he flickered a couple of times, and then disappeared.
"No! Father!" Luke sat up, reaching towards the space his father's ghost had just ceased to occupy. But before he could reach it, even with his superb reflexes, his father was back. Luke sighed in relief, wanting nothing more than to plunge back into his father's arms.
Instead, he made himself sit back against the sofa, crying again.
Through his tears, he could vaguely see his father's face. The older man was looking at him in concern, which Luke mistook for disappointment. He braced himself for a lecture about being so emotional.
"When was the last time you cried, Luke?"
Luke ground the tears out of his eyes with his fists. "Uh, last battle."
"Why?"
"Someone kicked me in the back of the knees."
Anakin shook his head, "That's not what I mean. When was the last time you cried like this?"
Luke shrugged, "I don't know."
"I think it would be in your best interests to cry a bit more often."
Luke turned his face to Anakin, confused, "That's not what Yoda would have said."
"Yoda isn't always right." Anakin said, then, seeing his son's reaction, "I'm not saying he's stupid. I'm just saying that no-one is always right."
Luke nodded.
"Lie down, Luke," Anakin instructed, moving off the sofa.
Obediently, Luke stretched out, then curled into a ball. His father knelt beside him and put one hand on his cheek.
Luke found himself yawning, and tried to stop, not wanting to be rude. His father smiled at him, and stroked his cheek again.
"Can I get you anything to make you more comfortable?" He asked kindly.
Luke shook his head.
"Come on, Luke. I won't believe that you're going to be able to go right to sleep after a day like today. You must have some kind of comfort ritual."
"Hot chocolate, I guess." Luke said, though he could already feel himself drifting off slightly.
He watched as his father left the room. Then he pulled himself up, and dragged a blanket up. A moment later, he was lying comfortably against the back of the sofa, wrapped in the blanket. By the time his father returned, he was almost asleep. But the sight of his father woke him again.
He sat up, and took the drink his father held out to him.
"Don't you want anything?" He asked, taking a sip.
Anakin laughed. "I mentioned it was a challenge to hold you properly, didn't I? I've only bothered with a surface. No digestive system."
Luke found himself laughing too, though he wasn't sure if he was really amused or just hysterical.
Anakin smiled, sitting on the edge of the sofa, beside Luke's outstretched legs. He took Luke's free hand in his own while Luke drank his hot chocolate. When he was done, Anakin took it from his hands, putting the mug on the floor beside him.
Luke slid back down into the comfort of the cushions. His father was still holding his hand, and he wanted nothing more than to keep that gentle caress for the rest of his life.
"You're exhausted. Sleep now," Anakin told him.
At the words, Luke panicked slightly. When he fell asleep and stopped wanting his father, what if he disappeared before Luke awoke? He shook his head firmly.
"You need the sleep. You'll be in danger if you don't sleep."
"I'm always in danger. I'm used to it," Luke retorted.
Anakin sighed softly, "You'll be in even more danger. I'll stay with you until you're asleep."
"But what about after I'm asleep?" Luke asked, desperately wishing for his father to stay with him.
He wasn't sure he could carry on without his father. He knew that he was being selfish again, and he was ashamed, but no less sure of his dependency. Leia and Han had one another. Chewbacca was always happy as long as he had Han. The droids could easily have their memories wiped if anything happened to the other, but in the meantime they had each other. And though Luke knew that he had all of them, he couldn't help feeling alone without any kind of parental intervention when things went wrong.
He had first noticed it after Yavin, when Han had been there, playing the babysitter, and he'd realized that his aunt and uncle were never going to come home, pay Han, and yell at him for having let Luke get drunk in the first place. It had nagged at the back of his mind ever since. He had to admit that one of the things he'd been looking forward to about meeting Yoda, before he knew who the old Jedi was, was another protector. Yoda, of course, had filled that position in such an unexpected way that Luke was still trying to decide if he was even willing to count it.
And everything, the entire war, he had fought in part for his father. He had wanted his father to be proud, alive or dead, depending on Luke's understanding at the varying points in the war. And losing him, when it was supposed to be over, when they were supposed to get a shot at having crazy, dangerous adventure they barely survived together. It had been torture.
It still was.
Many days, it was all Luke could think of. He had learned that a day of shore leave was just another opportunity to break his own heart repeatedly with the memories of those few moments they'd had with one another. Sleeping was a time to relive it in dreams. Pausing and relaxing for even a moment was a chance for it to come back.
"Stop fighting me, Luke. Sleep. Just sleep for a little while." His father urged, cutting through his despondent thoughts.
"I don't want to sleep. I'm afraid…" he faltered, afraid to tell his father why he was afraid.
But Anakin didn't ask. "Don't be afraid." He slipped his hand out of his son's hand, putting the other in its place and using the first one to rub Luke's shoulder.
Luke caught his eyes drifting closed and forced them to open again. He shook his head.
"You're being ridiculous." Anakin scolded gently.
"I'm not." Luke said firmly.
Anakin just shook his head, continuing to rub his son's shoulder.
Luke wanted to continue to protest going to sleep, but when he opened his mouth; his father shook his head again, wordlessly. But the message was plain as day. Anakin was done arguing with him.
The next time Luke caught his eyelids slipping downwards, he couldn't force them open. He was aware of his father's hand for a moment longer before drifting away.
