Feeling the gentle constance of his son's presence, Vader swept through the Executor in his usual silence, allowing merely his stature and breathing to intimidate those around him. He had little interest in it of late. Intimidation was easy in his position, and it was no longer a power he craved, to terrify those around him.

He had moved on to better things. Things that felt more real, and stronger than fear ever had to a man once known as the hero with none. He had found his way back to something more difficult than merely hurting, and more meaningful.

Cradled once more in the loving arms of the Force, he had found his son.

In the darkness that his life had descended into, he had found a ray of light, warm and gentle, a great relief from the cold of digging, and now he wanted nothing more than to stay in the pool of love forever.

Feeling a slight, uncomfortable prickling from his child, his lips moved slightly in silent comfort as he reached out to the boy with more of himself, knowing the strange confused pain of an amputation. Enveloping the young Jedi in warm love, he stepped into his quarters with a final dramatic billow of his cape, swirling into his hyperbaric chamber as the boy answered him.

"I know it's you, Father," Luke's voice echoed through the radiant strings that held the galaxy together, "There's no point trying to pretend that I can just stop being freaked out by this in a heartbeat."

At his son's playful reprimand, Vader gave a paternal smile, wrapping the arms of a dream around his son's presence, glad to be with him once more. It was more than he could have asked for, hearing his son's voice so innocent in tone and dictation. How the boy could still be so perfect, he had no idea.

In such a brutal galaxy, it was a victory to remain merely human.

"I don't wish to alarm you," he answered gently, pulling the boy's presence closer once more, to which he felt a slight pull in return of Luke refusing to be coddled.

"Really? You think being comforted would startle me?"

Knowing the dregs of fear that remained lodged in the cracks of their complicated history, Vader shook his head slightly, before slipping to the glowing network of the Force, enveloping Luke and his friends in silent comfort, "It does," he murmured to his son, "Don't pretend you think I can't sense you in return."

Smiling still more as Luke rolled his eyes in simple, pure exasperation, Vader took the boy's hand in his own, gently massaging the prosthetic, using the Force to finely tune it still more, bringing it ever closer to the hand he had taken in an awful moment of panic, opening the doors to layer upon layer of protection closed around his soul and the memories of the man he wanted to be for Luke once more, drawing his child into a memory of his beautiful wife, lying against him in a moment of pure joy and love.

Feeling his son's heartache at the image, he allowed it to slip into motion, his arms gently squeezing Padmé, who laughed, and reprimanded him, protective of their forming child. Meeting her ghostly eyes in love, he murmured to the memory, "You have nothing to worry about, Love. He's perfect… Just as you were."

Knowing how badly Luke needed to be told that he was loved, he sent a wordless question, asking if the memory of his mother's love was comforting to him. When Luke didn't immediately respond, he prodded at the boy's presence, concerned that he may have tried to remain in the memory, not wishing the boy to see what followed as Anakin received a summons to return to the Temple, and had to quickly get away from Padmé, only to have Obi-Wan greet him with an exasperated suggestion that he be more careful.

After all… he never wanted Luke to learn that he should have never been conceived.

"I know," Luke answered, and Vader felt an uncharacteristic prickle of annoyance from his son as the hand he'd been massaging was pulled away, "You and Mom were really in love."

Realizing their miscommunication, Vader shook his head. How in love they had been was immaterial, while he valued every moment's memory of his beloved. He had shown Luke his mother's concern and protectiveness, something the boy would sadly never know for himself.

"You should have known her."

"I know," Luke repeated, his tone carefully levelled, although Vader sensed something more in his soul. Resentment? No… Luke wasn't one to be resentful. He was the reincarnation of his mother, too kind and loving for that.

"You've told me all this before. I should've known Mom and we should be off somewhere peaceful, living out your happily ever after," Luke continued, and Vader cringed.

His happily ever after? It wasn't for him that he so desperately wanted it, it never had been. Everything he wanted, he wanted for his family. It wasn't his own desires that he wanted to further. He had given everything to keep those he loved safe and happy. It hadn't worked, and that failure had been crushing, but the fact remained that it wasn't his own happily ever after he had fought for.

Feeling his frustration start to bloom into anger, he hastily began to close himself once more, protecting Luke from his bared heart and soul as he struggled to keep his voice flat, "She would have loved you."

As he spoke the words, he found himself withdrawing from his gentle constance with his son, and he fought to pull back the tendrils of awareness with which he was touching the galaxy of people living the happy ending Luke deserved so much more.

This is why you don't do this, he told himself, folding layer upon layer of cold metal over his heart, This is why you stepped back.

"I know!" Luke's mental voice stabbed through Vader's conscience, tone impatient and angry as Vader had never heard him in their short time together in soul. Feeling the barbs of Luke's fury, he withdrew still further, fearing the child in a way he had forgotten was possible.

Their closeness wasn't perfect by any means, but it was something he wanted to hold onto, keep with him through the days which had ceased to be so painful and meaningless with his son's touch.

He desperately didn't want to lose it.

His son.

The family he had finally gained.

"Maybe it's because life isn't perfect," Luke's voice came suddenly, and Vader pulled himself back to the moment.

"Son?" he asked gently in trepidation. Fighting to be the person Luke needed, Vader opened himself a few layers of armour to let the boy closer to his heart, although he kept the burning coal away from him.

"Maybe it's because life isn't perfect!" Luke snarled furiously, and Vader tried desperately to stabilize his son, comforting the boy with proximity. Or so he hoped.

"Maybe THAT'S why I'm stuck with YOU! Why I lived and not my mother!"

At the hatred in his tone, Vader felt himself faltering once more, beginning to release his son, afraid to hear such angry passion in the voice he longed to speak only in love and comfort, safe in his father's protection.

You can't do this, he thought, You can't be who he needs. You've become a monster, unworthy of even hearing his voice.

"You keep showing me these memories!" Luke raged at his father, "It's like you're telling me, 'Look, I cared for you once, isn't it time you reciprocate?' You show me better times, times before I could ruin everything as if they'll make up for what you're doing now!"

Longing to be able to fix everything for his son, Vader closed him once more in as much comfort as he could, although he suspected it may have been somewhat frightening, as though he was trapping the boy, "Luke," he said firmly.

"No!" Luke shouted, tearing himself away as Vader tried desperately to comfort him, managing to drag out another memory for his son's comfort, "You can't patch it with who you were then! You can't tell me that our relationship can be fine, just because you and Mom were happy then! Because who you are now… it's not someone I can love."

At the words, Vader felt his heart plummet, his only illusion of solid ground failing in a heartbeat. He… he had given Luke everything he still had, to draw him into such comfort as he could. He had done everything for the boy, he'd lied to the Emperor, he had lied to himself. Of course he could never be Anakin again. Never be a truly loving parent. He would always fail his beloved son.

"Not someone who deserves love!" Luke spat.

But no… of course he wasn't… Had he ever been? Why had Padmé loved him? He remembered asking if she was an angel… loving her for her kindness and warmth. But what had he ever offered her?

You loved her.

But he loved his son as well, and Luke didn't love him in return.

You protected her.

It had been his duty. He had been assigned to protect her. Of course he had protected her. He had only been doing his job, and she had known that. Hell, he had failed in his mission, nearly getting her killed to further his own struggle to save his mother. His failed struggle to save her.

She loved you, isn't that enough?

No. No, it wasn't. Because she was gone. She was gone, and the only remaining shard of her hated him.

And he had no reason that he shouldn't.

"I don't owe you ANYTHING!" Luke yelled finally, and Vader felt him pull away violently, tearing away layers of armour and shards of his heart and soul.

"You're trying to make me love someone who doesn't exist."

The sudden tearing more than his weakened heart could take, Vader released him, watching in agony as the beautiful, glowing form of his son pulled back and sliced through their bond. Vader imagined he saw the boy look up at him with a stunned expression on his face, as though he couldn't quite believe what he'd done, and Vader turned away, wishing he could close the bleeding tears in his heart.

"I'm sorry, Luke," he whispered, and he heard that his voice fall upon the deaf ears of the galaxy, unprotected and vulnerable as a child. As the human boy he had been when he had foolishly fathered his son.

Determinedly, he turned away from the torturous beauty, forcing himself to become angry, although the most fury he could generate was for himself.

He had failed his child in every imaginable way, abandoning him as a newborn, killing his mother, the other that he should have been able to trust to take care of him. Of course, Luke had betrayed him in return, had gone to find shelter with the Jedi.

The medical staff who had helped to birth him should have returned the boy to him! It was his right to raise his child, and that right had been torn from him. And Obi-Wan… he had killed the man for his crimes, but the death of the old Jedi could never bring back the years he had stolen from Vader.

Feeling righteous fury bubbling in his scalded throat, he stemmed the constant flow of painkillers into his veins. Feeling the agony of his injuries racing through him once more, he clenched his fists, sharp metal digits cutting through even the thick leather.

Perhaps Luke DIDN'T owe him anything, but the same was true of him. He owed Luke nothing he wouldn't have been happy to give. Had he not reached out to the boy after their disastrous meeting at Bespin, despite that he would have rather shut the memories of the incident out? He had attempted to return to Luke. He had held out his hand, his comfort to the boy, and Luke had spurned him.

His eyes opening sharply, he lurched awkwardly to his feet, hampered by the burning pain in his damaged tissue. It wouldn't slow him down now, as it never had before. His son didn't love him, insisted that he couldn't, and Vader threw the last of his desire to be loved to the wind.

Realizing what he was doing, he faltered for a short moment, thinking of the sensation of his wife lying contentedly against him, before the question came once more, Why did she love you?

I don't know, he answered himself, I'm a monster. Unloveable. Undeserving.

Lingering on the bittersweet memory for another moment, he felt a gentle touch against him, and snapped down on it. This. This was his chance.

Stumbling back to his chair, he verified that the presence was indeed his son, and threw his dark presence into the galaxy once more, ensnaring the far reach of the Jedi's awareness, cutting him off, severing the suddenly frightened and confused soul from it's body, pulling the essence of the young Skywalker away from the galaxy, trapping him tightly.

Opening his eyes once more, he found the radiant form of the boy's life-force caged in a prison of the Sith's dark essence.

A predatory smile coming over his scarred face, he motioned for his mask to come down, never breaking eye contact with the trapped being of light, young face was contorted in fear.