Mustafar always makes me sad. So I wrote this. Because Obi-Wan and Anakin are just amazing. So is Vader but, I like him a lot better when he's throwing Palps into the center of the Death Star. If you read, please review.

When I saw her, I was happy. I was at peace. Then you showed up. Standing there like Death. Watching, waiting. With this look in your eyes. Longing? Hate?

That's what I read. Then I realized it. She knew. She knew you were there. She wanted you to be there.

I reached out with the Force, my only companion in this despair and anger, grabbing her neck. She extended a hand to me, begging silently for forgiveness. My mind blocked all sense of sound as I watched what I was doing. Tears stung my eyes, but only because the planet was made of lava.

"Let her go, Anakin! Let her go!" I slipped back into consciousness and then I heard you yelling. I did as I was told, not because you were telling me to, but because she was. With her eyes.

I talked with you, said things I refuse to remember. You questioned my Empire.

"If you're not with me," I warned. "Then you're my enemy."

"Only a Sith deals in absolutes," you said, igniting your blade. "I will do what I must."

I did not believe you. I ignited my own and lunged. You seemed reclined. I had seen you fight, with more power and agility. But you are holding back. I had known this.

Our battle spans over the planet, from the Separatist station all the way to the mining grounds. For a while, I had the upper hand. The Dark Side had become my ally, and together, we were undefeatable.

Until on that hazy, dark day. On a hazy, dark planet.

You jumped onto a riverbank of charcoal, while I balanced on that little droid.

"It's over, Anakin. I have the high ground."

"You underestimate my new powers." Then I jumped. Then you cut me, gashing my thighs. And I fell. And I flamed.

You took my weapon, the one thing I still had. You had taken my angel away. I had given away my identity until I was nothing more than another Sith. Darth Vader. I had nothing. And I blamed it on you.

"I hate you!"

But you just looked at me with those sad blue eyes. And then you walked away. As I was engulfed in flames.

HHHHHH

I woke up in a medical center, screaming still, but not from fire, from needles. They stung like the fire against my burns. But when they stopped, I became encased. In a black helmet, with dark, deep breaths, and no way to see clearly. I had no eyes. No legs. No arms.

I owned nothing. And even Padme`, as Sidious had told me, was gone. Dead. I would never see her again.

I was not Anakin Skywalker, for Anakin had died next to Padme` on Mustafar. I was, and still am, Darth Vader. And you, Obi-Wan, you will die at my hand someday.