"Daddy!"
Anakin turned in startled excitement; his son had spoken to him! But the boy's mouth was closed, his eyes also shut, nearly asleep.
He looked up and there in front of him was the other Luke.
"Daddy," the youth repeated pathetically, reaching out, begging for a hug.
Anakin obliged, and the young man continued to cry into his hair.
"It's going to be alright, Luke. I promise you, everything will be alright."
The poor, tortured child didn't release Anakin or respond in any way, except to continue muttering, "Daddy, Daddy," repeatedly.
Anakin stood from his son's bed, trusting him to go to sleep. In fact, it seemed already that he was asleep.
"Come on, Luke," he said, gently guiding the sobbing teen towards the kitchen, "You look like you could use some food."
The boy nodded, but didn't release Anakin. To make sure he didn't trip on him, he lifted the boy in his arms. The boy weighed almost nothing.
"He's starving you, isn't he?"
"Vader?" the boy asked, "No, he's not. He doesn't have enough to do with me to be the one who's starving me. He's just neglecting me. No, it's the men in the prison who are starving me."
Anakin nodded sympathetically, carefully resting the boy in a chair in the kitchen, then fetching him some food.
Luke cried as Anakin placed the food in his hands, and Anakin took it back, spoon-feeding him instead.
"It's alright, Luke. Shh, just eat. You can cry when you're done, alright?"
Luke hiccupped and nodded, calming himself in an instant. Then he took the food from Anakin's hands and finished feeding himself.
Anakin took the opportunity to take in the child's wounds, and almost wished he hadn't. Much of the skin had been torn from youth's body, apparently everywhere Anakin had touched him last time they'd been together. There was no flesh at all on his back. His father, Anakin's dark inversion, Vader, had taken away the worn, ripped, ratty shirt that had kept the boy warm.
"Thank you," Luke said, putting the empty bowl on the table, "Thank you so much. I'm sorry to intrude again, but it's just been so awful. I needed to see someone who would care for me again," his voice dropped, "And I needed to call someone daddy."
Anakin nudged Luke's chin up, smiling at him, "You can come here any time you need to. And please feel free to call me daddy."
Luke shyly returned the smile, "You're not mad?"
"Of course I'm not mad. I think you have enough anger in your life already without my help."
Luke nodded sadly, "Yeah. You have no idea."
It made Anakin's heart ache to see the boy so tortured. He didn't know what Luke had done to be subjected to it, but he was certain that the boy's crimes hadn't been anything terrible. Luke was too sweet and kind to have ever set out to hurt anybody.
"Come on, kid," he said, gently helping Luke to his feet, "I'm going to give you a new shirt, you look like you must be freezing."
But, far from seeming comforted by the thought, Luke burst into tears, burying his face in his hands.
"Luke? Are you alright?"
Luke pressed himself against Anakin, sobbing silently.
"What's wrong?"
"Th-that's what Han always used to call me, and now I'm never going to see him again!" the boy wailed.
"Han?"
"He's my best friend. He usually does what I'm making you do right now. And-and he always called me kid."
Anakin nodded, "I'm sorry. I won't call you that again, I promise."
Luke nodded, "Thank you."
"Come on, let's get that shirt for you."
Luke looked up through his tears, smiling gratefully, "Yes, please. My cell gets so cold at night."
Anakin nodded, trying not to cringe at the thought of Luke living in a cell, being tortured, being starved. He led Luke back to his own Luke's room and found him a shirt, which he accepted with such desperation that Anakin wanted to cry himself.
As soon as Luke had tightly wrapped himself in the shirt, he returned to Anakin's side, as if he wanted to be with him every moment. Anakin thought he probably did, and that he certainly deserved the attention from a more caring source than his own father.
"Has he ever done anything kind for you?"
"He hasn't killed me yet."
Anakin waited for the boy to give another answer, but nothing came.
"What's happened to the galaxy?"
"You turned to the Dark Side and overturned the Jedi Order and the Republic. Palpatine replaced it all with the Empire. But he's an awful leader. There's slavery and thieving and all kinds of awful things all over my galaxy. So eventually the Rebel Alliance was started. Leia was a major part of it, even at first, though she was only five," Luke smiled up at Anakin, seeming to know how that revelation would make him swell with pride.
"I joined later. Earlier this year, actually," as he said it, Luke's expression changed to one of surprise, then tears, "Force, it's only been a few months since I was safe! Only a few months since I'd never heard of the idea of torture!"
"It's alright, Luke. You were obviously doing the right thing."
Luke looked up at Anakin with huge eyes, "Thank you," he sniffled, "You don't know how much that means to me."
Anakin sighed sadly, "I'm so sorry he's done this to you. I'm sorry I've done this to you."
Luke shook his head, "It's not you, Daddy. I just know it. He's not enough like you, even if you do share a physical body."
Anakin didn't answer.
"You've been wonderful to me, even though you don't have any reason to be," Luke said, resting against Anakin's chest.
"Of course I had a reason to be. You are my son, after all."
Luke sniffled doubtfully, but didn't openly reject the idea that they were father and son. Anakin himself didn't fully believe it. Luke was from a different galaxy, a different Anakin was his father, but an Anakin very much like himself. He himself had a different Luke for a son. But at the end of the day, both boys relied on him to care for them.
"Besides that, you're an intelligent being who doesn't make this Luke cry. I've missed intelligent conversation."
Luke smiled again, but it was a hollow, sad smile, "Thanks for calling me intelligent. My father would disagree."
"Your father is cruel. You really should forget him occasionally. He clearly sets out each day to hurt you more than he hurt you the last."
"It feels that way sometimes."
Anakin's heart ached, wishing that the poor child would stop blaming himself for all his father's shortcomings. He didn't see how Vader could hurt the fragile-seeming little boy who rested there right before him. Luke's head was bowed, looking at his clasped hands, which rested on his knees, which were closely pressed together as if he didn't think that he deserved space in Anakin's home.
"I should go back to the prison," Luke said at last, "They'll be waking me up for torture any minute. I love you, Daddy. Can I please come back when I need to?"
Anakin nodded, kissing his the boy's forehead.
Then the young man disappeared into thin air.