Intoxicated eyes, no longer live that life.
You should have learned by now, I'll burn this whole world down.
I need some peace of mind, no fear of what's behind.
You think you've won this fight, you've only lost your mind.

- Had Enough, Breaking Benjamin

The last thing Darth Vader ever saw was the bright blue of his former master's lightsaber, burning into his skull with a bright, hot intensity that rivaled Tatooine's suns. The blue of Obi-Wan's blade burned itself into Vader's memory, just as it had burned away his sight.

Vader cried out in pain, clutching at his face in a feral manner. He heard the steady hum of Obi-Wan's lightsaber through his torment; perceived the churning and hissing of Mustafar's lava around him; and remembered the echoes of screaming Jedi, killed in the name of selfish love and power. Vader could hear his wife's, his angel's pleas for him to come with her, to raise their child far, far away from the empire, from his catastrophic mess.

Vader smelled the toxic scent of fire, of burnt metal and rock. He felt the cold durasteel of the catwalk beneath his flesh hand; felt the all-too familiar sensation of burning heat. Vader felt the sad, weary look that Obi-Wan aimed at him, and the Sith found his hatred and frustration towards the Jedi Master doubling.

And, of course, Vader could see the crisp, refined blue of Obi-Wan's lightsaber. The same blue of Tatooine's endless skies, the metaphorical bars of a prison that a slave-boy named Anakin Skywalker used to peek through, dreaming of opportunities known only to the free. The blue that now kept Vader chained in a personal hell known only to him, that he would know for a long, long time.

Vader attempted to glare at his former master, who was standing over him in a weary, remorseful sort of fashion. This man, whom he had once trusted with his life , but never his secrets, was preparing to take the one thing that Anakin Skywalker had trusted him with. Vader focused on his pain, his hatred, in the passionate way that the Emperor had finally given him permission to do, and groped around himself for his lightsaber.

His former master finally decided to speak.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, his clipped, weary tone showing guilt for, Vader assumed, the day's events. "Give up, for your own sake. I have your lightsaber, and am taking it with me. Don't try to stop me."

Vader turned his pounding head towards the sound of his former master's posh voice, and gave him his best rage-filled glare. He wanted to kill the man that had blinded him, but his head hurt from being blinded. The fledgling Sith decided that revenge could wait until another day, a day when he was fated to win against his former master.

He would make him regret everything. Every crime against Vader that Kenobi had committed.

Through his pounding headache and flashes of a crisp blue, Vader somehow managed to hear the hiss-snap of Obi-Wan shutting off his lightsaber. He sensed Obi-Wan's remorse for both of their actions, and his former master's feeble attempts to convince himself that he had done the right thing. The Sith Lord heard Obi-Wan's footsteps receding down the catwalk, making palpable vibrations Vader felt with every step the Jedi Master took towards his wife and child. Vader didn't dare follow, for he never wanted to feel that amount of sorrow emanating from his wife again. She had willingly traded him for Ob-Wan, and she would have to live with that for the rest of her life.

With that thought, Vader curled into a fetal position, and drifted into a fitful sleep, full of flashes of bright blue and rivers of blood and lava.