Luke made a loud sound of protest, and Anakin dropped the bottle he had been offering his son. As the child continued to scream, he lifted him carefully, hugging him close.
"It's okay, Luke. Shh. Take a deep breath."
In his arms, the child followed none of his instructions. He kept rocking the child carefully, then started bouncing him slightly. Luke stopped wailing and began to giggle slightly.
"There, that's better," Anakin said, offering him the bottle again.
Luke hiccupped loudly and took it.
Seventeen years, Anakin thought, and he still hasn't improved. I had hoped… but he couldn't bring himself to think what he'd hoped when Luke had been recognized as developmentally delayed.
It had nearly been enough to drive him to suicide.
As the boy began to wail again, Anakin hugged him once more. After Padmé and baby Leia's deaths, he had been so glad and proud to be able to at least take his newborn son in his arms.
It had been a long time before he'd been able to bring himself to take the three-year-old who still couldn't speak in for testing. In addition to speaking, Luke had never learned to walk or feed himself. He was still limited to incoherent cries to attract attention so his father could attend to his needs.
In Anakin's arms, Luke moved slightly and pushed against his father. Anakin kept holding the boy as Luke started to gurgle. He gently patted his son's back, and the boy burped a little bit of milky vomit down his back. He'd clean it up later.
Then Luke started whimpering, reaching for his modified bed; the one with rails to keep him from falling out. Anakin carefully placed his son in the cradle and changed into the spare tunic he kept with his son's supplies.
He lowered one of the rails and sat beside the sleeping child.
Asleep, Luke looked almost normal. He looked like he had gone to sleep a little more suddenly than one usually would, and he did perhaps drool just a little more, but he still looked like a healthy child.
Since his birth, his sister and mother's deaths, and Anakin's expulsion from the Jedi Order, Luke had been his father's life. Obi-Wan had been kind enough to convince the Order that Anakin would need to spend all the time he could with his son until the boy had grown old enough to care for himself. At the time, it hadn't been known that that would probably be forever, but when Anakin had told Obi-Wan distraughtly that his son would never be mature, the Order had all seemed sympathetic, agreeing to continue to fund their existence.
For a time, Anakin had taken on some mechanical repair jobs, but they had had less and less charm as his son remained unable to care for himself.
In a matter of a few months, Anakin's life had been reduced to sitting at the bedside of a child with a broken mind.
He wasn't resentful of his son. He knew that Luke didn't try to be difficult. He was certain that if Luke could choose, he would be cured in an instant. As it was, he didn't think that Luke was aware enough to know that he was missing anything. Indeed, the only interaction Luke responded to positively was Anakin's presence. Even Obi-Wan caused Luke to shriek in protest when he neared.
Anakin smiled sadly and put his hand on his son's forehead, "It's just the two of us, isn't it, Luke?" he asked. It was an old joke, one he had once shared with Obi-Wan when they were away from the Temple on missions, then with Padmé when they were able to sneak away for a while.
He loved his son, of course. What kind of father could not love his son? But he did wish frequently that Luke would open his mouth one day and, instead of screaming, speak real words. Because of Luke's reaction to anyone besides his father, Jedi friends had long since stopped visiting. Only Obi-Wan came anymore, and even that was beginning to seem less and less frequent.
Anakin missed having people to talk to who would answer him. He missed flying, something else he'd had to give up to stay with his son. He missed going on missions. He missed his wife. He even missed meditating and being scolded at the Jedi Temple sometimes.
He heard fast breathing and looked up, expecting to see Obi-Wan having run to ask for help with something.
Instead there stood before him a young man, around Luke's age, perhaps, with similar blonde hair and blue eyes. He was bruised all over, lacerated from unknown cruelty. He was staring at the boy in the cradle.
As he realized that Anakin had seen him, he looked up and began to shake slightly, blinking very rapidly.
"Hello," Anakin said cautiously, wondering who the man was. What was he doing in Anakin's home? And, most surprisingly, why hadn't his presence caused Luke to wake up screaming?
The youth looked very nervous, but he said softly, "Hello."
Anakin stood up, looking at the stranger in concern, "Are you alright?"
He was still shaking where he stood, looking quite terrified of Anakin, "My name is Luke Skywalker," he blurted.
"Luke Skywalker?" Anakin echoed, looking from the healthy young man to his own sleeping son.
"Yeah, just like him," the youth answered, pointing frantically at the sleeping child.
Anakin started to move towards the intruder, wanting to help him to sit down, but as he neared, the boy started shaking still more frantically and threw himself into Anakin's arms.
Anakin stood still, blinking at the tightly attached child, "How did you know my son's name?"
The boy released him, looking terrified, stepping back slowly, then with increasing speed until he arrived unceremoniously at the opposite wall, "I…you- I mean…"
Anakin nodded encouragingly, "Go on."
The second Luke opened his mouth as if he was about to respond, but suddenly there was a strange sucking on the air, and a mammoth black figure appeared in the corner to his right. The youth shrieked and ran to a side of the room that was as far away from both adults as possible.
Anakin forced himself to look away from the strange spectacle and down at his son, who would doubtless be awake by now. But Luke slept peacefully on. Anakin looked back up at the strangers. The injured youth had crumpled to the floor, where he was frantically shaking, having started to cry.
Suddenly, a third was in the room, asides from Anakin and his son, a man who was unmistakeably Obi-Wan, but with whiter hair, and more lines in his face. He had appeared right behind the youngest of the new arrivals, and the boy cried out again, scampering frantically back to the center of the room.
Obi-Wan had a gentle look of concern on his face, but with it was a sense that he was there to keep the boy from doing something.
At last, Anakin's son woke up, starting to cry. Anakin turned to Obi-Wan and said, as gently as he could bring himself to, "Please leave. You scare my son."
Obi-Wan nodded simply, evaporating into the air once more. In his cradle, Luke rolled over and went back to sleep.
The boy in the center of the room, who also claimed to be Luke, was looking at the boy in the cradle with an expression of utmost longing. Anakin motioned him closer, deciding as he did so that the child must have been tired to look at a sleeping child with such desperation.
Slowly, in the most frightened way imaginable, the youth stepped forward, moving towards Anakin.
"Stop," the behemoth ordered.
Instantly, the young man froze, whimpering.
The dark form advanced, and Anakin raised a hand, holding him back with the Force.
"Stay away from him. It's obvious you've done enough to him already," Anakin commanded. He felt the monster push back at him with considerable strength, but he was stronger, and kept the man at bay. As the two adults fought, the young man hurried to Anakin's side.
At last, the black form stopped pushing at Anakin's defences, apparently having decided that he was scaring the boy enough just by being there.
"Do as I tell you, boy. I wouldn't want to re-enact some of our previous encounters," he threatened the youth.
Instantly the teen's hands sprang to one of the worst looking wounds. Anakin swore that he would make this stranger pay for what he had done to the child.
He turned back to the boy, "So, tell me, Luke, how did you know my son's name?" he tried to make the words light, absently curious, so that the youth wouldn't be too afraid to answer.
"My father's name was Anakin," Luke answered.
"Was?" Anakin asked, pushing aside the coincidence, "Did he kill your father?" he asked, indicating the black giant.
Luke started to cry again, "Not exactly."
Anakin gently ushered the boy to sit on his son's bed next to himself, and the boy hesitantly accepted his invitation. Anakin gently wrapped one arm around the crying teenager, wanting to comfort the poor boy, but not knowing how.
"I am his father," the dark one said with great relish, clearly enjoying the helpless wail Luke gave as he buried himself against Anakin, looking for protection.
"I turned to the Dark Side to protect Padmé, but she died anyway. All that's left is that worthless parasite."
"You mean," Anakin started unsurely, "You're me, and he's him?" he asked, indicating himself, then the black figure, and then the crying youth, and his own sleeping son.
"We became wiser than you can imagine when I turned to the Dark Side," the dark man answered.
"No!" the child cried out, "Wisdom implies well-meani," but he was cut off by a shout as another slash appeared through his shirt.
"Shut up, boy!" Anakin's dark inversion shouted.
Anakin leapt to his feet, rushing to get between the boy and his dark self, "Leave him alone!"
The dark man laughed darkly, "You can protect him now. Losing our limbs did weaken me enough that you can defeat me, but Luke doesn't belong here. Sooner or later, he will lose strength, and return to our galaxy to be tortured once more."
From where he sat by Anakin's son's bed, Luke cried softly, clearly affirming the dark being's belief.
"Fine," Anakin snapped, "I know my limits. I learned them the hardest way possible. But if he can stay here a moment longer, leave. Whatever you've done to him has clearly almost broken him. Once you've broken him completely, he won't cry out in torture anymore, and you clearly enjoy that, twisted being that you are. Go away, and let me comfort him," Anakin swallowed, "When he can't keep himself here any longer, there will be more of him intact for you to break."
The dark one nodded and dissipated into the air.
Anakin turned to the two children, one peacefully sleeping, the other grasping fistfuls of the first's blankets and crying silently.
"What happened, Luke?" Anakin asked kindly, sitting in front of the waking one and looking into his face.
"I-I don't know. It's like he said, I guess. He turned to the Dark Side to save Padmé. That's my mom, right?"
"Yes," Anakin said, nodding.
"He doesn't speak to me to do anything but tell me how stupid I am, so I'd never heard that before," Luke sniffed.
Anakin nodded, taking the crying boy in his arms and rocking him carefully, the same way he always rocked his own son.
"I grew up away from him. Obi-Wan took me to my aunt and uncle when I was born. He didn't know I'd been born. I keep hoping that he would have cared for me if he'd known."
Anakin nodded, rubbing the boy's back, "I don't know how much he changed when he turned to the Dark Side, clearly a fair deal, but I think he would have cared for you."
"Obi-Wan," Luke's voice hitched, "said that you were what he might've been like if he hadn't turned."
"I suppose I am."
"You would have cared about me, right?" Luke asked desperately, looking up at Anakin with tear-filled eyes.
"Of course I would've, Luke. I've cared for this you no-matter what," Anakin said, gesturing to the sleeping child.
Luke nodded slowly.
"Is your sister all right?" Anakin asked.
"Leia's fine."
"What's she like?" Anakin asked, unable to stop himself. He didn't want to hurt the boy's feelings by obsessing over someone who wasn't him when he was clearly the most loving person Luke had had in a long time.
"She's strong. She's a politician and a fighter. She grew up on Alderaan," Luke answered quickly.
"What's happened to you?"
"Like I said, I was raised by my aunt and uncle. I-I, uh, it's a long story. I was raised by them, but since then, in a series of mistakes, I've joined the Alliance against Father's Empire and been captured, and tortured, for several months now," he spoke in a rush, as if he wanted it all out, and when he was done, he fell against Anakin's chest sobbing again.
"Obi-Wan brought me here so I could see you just once. He's going to make me go back to prison afterwards. He didn't mean for me to try to join you physically in this galaxy. He just wanted to give me a chance to see you care for that me."
"That seems cruel," Anakin said simply, "Forcing you to see what you might've had then go back to your terrible reality."
Luke sniffed, "I think he was hoping it might make my father guilty to see me cry in desperation because I need to be cared for like that," he indicated the sleeping boy again.
"It didn't work, did it?"
"No," Luke said softly, "No. It made him laugh."
Anakin held the poor boy close for a few more seconds before the older-looking version of Obi-Wan appeared in the room again. He must have been the same age as the Obi-Wan Anakin knew, though, aged by a much harsher galaxy.
"Come along, Luke. It's time for you to go home. You can't come back here again, I'm afraid."
Home, Anakin thought bitterly, he wants Luke to call his personal Hell 'home'.
Luke carefully moved out of Anakin's arms, then kissed his cheek, "Thank you for caring for me."
Anakin stood, wanting to take the boy back in his arms and protect him, "I'll keep him here, thanks."
"If you do that, I'd be forced to take your son with me back to our galaxy."
Anakin looked at his sleeping child, who, for once, had not been woken by Obi-Wan's presence.
"My dark self would be just as cruel to him, wouldn't he?"
"Probably," Luke said softly, "Just let me go. I'm used to it."
He stood from his safer galaxy's counterpart and walked to Obi-Wan, who put a gentle hand on his shoulder and took him away in an instant.
Anakin looked at the place from which they had vanished, "But you shouldn't have to be used to it."
