A/N: This came into being as an indirect result of the movie "Fireproof," particularly one of the songs. I do not own the lyrics posted below, nor do I own Star Wars.

It's a slow fade when you give yourself away
It's a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray
Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid
When you give yourself away
People never crumble in a day

Casting Crowns-"Slow Fade"

It didn't happen in a day, she realized, standing before him, looking at him with sorrowful eyes. She should have seen it, should have known. She of all people knew that thoughts and opinions could not be changed in a day, that it took time for people to change.

Then why didn't she see it happen? The slow slide into something dark and terrifying could not have happened overnight, even if it seemed that way, that one day he was savior and friend, the next a destroyer and stranger with the same features. It simply didn't work like that. She thought he was invincible, the one constant rock in a sea of chaos. But he still fell.

Maybe it was the stress of the war that wore him down. Every time she saw him during those dark days, he seemed more withdrawn, more brooding, but she had chalked it up to the strain of war. Maybe it had been his desperate need to prove himself to his elders. Every time he talked about it, there was bitterness and an infant rage. Maybe it was the news of her pregnancy that was the last straw. Every night since she had told him, he had woken in fear, trembling over the horrible thought of losing her.

But there was no single act that had warned her, no sudden fall to darkness. He had been slipping for years, she realized dully, and none of them could see it, for instead of the swift plummet she associated with such things there was a slow eclipsing of his light, a slow fade to grey, then to deepest black.

And now, as she stood before him, she realized that she couldn't turn him back. Not here, not now. Just as he hadn't crumbled overnight, he couldn't be built back up in a day. But the child in her womb might. He (she knew it was a he, despite her husband's protestations) could influence this dark stranger, perhaps, over time and with love. Her thoughts were cut short as she lost her breath to an iron grip. And her last, gasped words were a desperate lie to give the others hopes of a brighter day. Because there didn't have to be good left in him, just as there was none of this twisted evil to start.

It didn't happen in a day, he realized, standing before a blazing funeral pyre, eyes stinging with repressed tears. His father had been dark; irretrievably so, many had said. And the final act of sacrifice wasn't what turned him back to the light. It must have been happening for years, the slow climb back, perhaps ever since he had found out he had a child. People couldn't change in a day, he knew, his smuggler friend a prime example of that fact, but time could change everything.

Why hadn't his dark Master noticed the change? Surely his life would have been forfeit, but everyone had said he was a dark monster, irredeemable, not even worth the effort. He must have shifted over so slowly that no one noticed. Something had slowly brought him back, slowly softened him, turned him from dark warrior to light father.

Maybe it had been the shock of learning he had a son. Every sign said he hadn't known until after Yavin. Maybe it was the knowledge that someone cared, even a little bit, about his wellbeing. It was impossible to say what the catalysts were, but his rise had been slow, deepest black fading to grey, then to purest white.

And now, as he watched the flames dance, he understood. Anyone, no matter how lost, could change. What crumbled over time could be rebuilt over time, whether that be galaxies or governments or a single lost soul. The mere thought made him smile, made him want to shout with joy. There was always hope. So long as there was time anyone could fall from grace…or rise from darkness.