Merry belated Christmas. The story's finally done. I hope yu enjoyed.

I do not own Star Wars.

Shades woke up all at once, a sensation similar to falling out of bed. He jerked up from the hard floor he was lying on, and for one beautiful deceptive moment, he actually thought that he was back in his bunkroom on the Starlight and everything had been some horrible, twisted dream, but still a dream. Then his mind finally registered his surroundings and anger and grief crashed down so strongly that his legs would have buckled if he'd been standing Edi was dead. His brothers were gone. He and Fib had been captured.

It wasn't fair. He and Fib had pushed beyond all their previous limits, had discovered hidden reserves that they didn't know they had, but it hadn't been enough. When you gave something your all everything was supposed to be okay. Didn't good always win? That was what everyone said. But the problem with that was that people often had very different ideas about what good was. Someone had to lose, and right now, Fib and Shades were that someone.

But a battle can change in a matter of seconds. The smallest thing can make the biggest difference.

Shoving away his growing despair, Shades forced himself to take a good look at the room that he and Fib were trapped in. It wasn't large, maybe ten meters across, with bare walls and no windows. There was only one light source, a hazy yellow glow strip that had seen better days. Its wavering glow cast a small pool of light around where he and Fib lay on the floor. The rest of the room was veiled in gloom, the farthest corners lost in shadows.

Fib lay close to the sergeant, curled on his side. For a second Shades thought that he was still unconscious, but then one of the medic's eyes cracked open and looked at him.

"Took you long enough to wake up, sleeping beauty. Have a nice nap?"

Shades could only shake his head at the guy's completely unrepentant sarcastic streak. A smile tugged at his mouth. Even in this dire situation, Fib could still make a joke; it was heartening.

He crawled over to his friend. "I couldn't help noticing that you could do with a little more sleep." The comment was only partially joking. Fib still looked ashen, with dark circles under his eyes, his face drawn and tight with pain, stress, and fatigue. But at least he was awake and lucid. Thank the Force for small blessings.

Fib sat up slowly, his arms shaking with the effort, and ended up leaning against Shades for support. He held up his arms in front of him, then touched his neck. "You notice that we're not restrained?"

Shades had noticed the rather conspicuous lack of electro cuffs. Fib wasn't even wearing a Force-suppressing collar. Obviously whoever had captured them didn't think very highly of their chances of escape.

Well, their loss, Shades thought stubbornly, refusing to give in to the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Fib stiffened against him an instant before he heard the soft mechanical hiss of an unseen door opening. The sound was followed by light footsteps, something swishing quietly in time with them. Whoever had come in wasn't wearing armor. It sounded like this being wore only soft shoes and robes for protection.

Shades shivered as a sudden chill filled the air. The shadows beyond the small light seemed to grow impossibly darker. Fib trembled against his side, but then he pushed himself up straighter, until he was sitting on his own. A fierce light had come into his eyes, something Shades had never seen before, not even in battle. The medic was staring into the darkest shadows of the room. Shades turned to look.

A form stood there. It was cloaked in black robes that enveloped it, hiding its shape, though it appeared humanoid. A dark hood was drawn low over its face, hiding everything but a thin-lipped mouth surrounded by wrinkles. The mouth was curved up at the corners in a bone-chilling parody of a smile. Shades was so rattled by the sudden appearance that it took him a second to recognize Emperor Palpatine.

The Emperor? What's he doing here?

The smirk grew as the man stepped closer to the light. Now more of his face was visible under his hood. His skin was bone white, the feature distorted in wrinkles. It looked like the Emperor had stood too close to a fusion reactor and his skin had started to melt. But even then, his eyes were clearly visible. They were yellow and lit with a feral gleam that made Shades want to shrink away and cower in a corner. They were a demon's eyes.

"My friends," said the Emperor in a soft, cracked voice, like a bat's leathery wings unfurling. "How nice to finally meet you. Particularly you, my young medic. I've been waiting for you to find me."

Darth Sidious allowed a smile to curve his lips at the sight of the two clones on the ground before him. It was only right that they kneel, even if they had no choice.

Ever since Lord Vader had informed him of the medic's presence and abilities, he had been almost giddy with anticipation. A healing adept was a very useful tool to have at one's disposal. A true gift from the dark side, and delivered right into his lap. He had set his plan in motion and had waited patiently for the inevitable outcome. He knew the medic would not stay long in the prison, though he was rather surprised at the presence of the other clone Ah, yes, Vader had wanted to keep that one, saying something about possible locations of the few surviving Jedi. Sidious very much doubted that the clone knew anything of value, but he humored his apprentice. And now here they were, at last.

It would have been much simpler to force the medic to serve him, perhaps through mind control, or some other means. But Lord Vader had been quick to point out this particular clone's stubbornness. The medic had served under Skywalker for a time, and Vader had grudgingly admitted his doubt that mind tricks would work on the man. He was strong-willed, for a clone.

"He will have to be broken, my Master, before he will be of any use to us."

It made sense. And it was much more gratifying to have a powerful tool choose to serve him of its own volition rather than through coercion. His own apprentice was a testament to that.

Now Sidious stood at the threshold of his final victory, and it was good. Fear and pain emanated from the two clones in the Force, sending a delighted shiver down the dark lord's spine. And yet, for all that, the medic still gave off a fierce feeling of defiance as though he was deliberately projecting it. It mattered little. He would break in the end. He was, after all, only a clone.

It became quickly clear to Shades that the Emperor had little interest in him. After the first perfunctory statement of greeting, Palpatine's entire attention was focused on Fib.

Shades was having trouble understanding exactly what the Emperor was talking to Fib for, but the more he listened, the more obvious it became that he was trying to entice the medic into his service. But I don't get it. We're clones. Why doesn't he just give an order? Another thing was bothering Shades. Wasn't the Empire supposedly anti-Force-user? So what was the Emperor doing trying to recruit one? Nothing about this was adding up, and the longer it went on, the greater Shades's sense of dread grew.

"There are many things that I can offer you, if you serve me," Palpatine was saying.

"Right," said Fib. He'd pushed himself into a standing position near the beginning of the discussion. He swayed slightly, but remained upright. "What makes you think that you have anything that I could want?"

Palpatine's fingers laced together within the folds of his sleeves. "Do not be so quick to dismiss my offers before you have heard them, my young friend. I think you would find some of them most…stimulating."

Fib's eyebrows quirked up. "All right. Let's hear it."

Palpatine's smile grew, and Shades went cold all over. He wanted to shout at his brother, to tell him not to listen to the man, but he couldn't seem to find his voice.

"First," the Emperor murmured, "I can give you power. When you work with me, you will find that there is little that you cannot do. Second, wealth. You are a clone, so you have little experience with material possessions, but in my service you will come to realize all the ease and comfort that comes with having access to the proper resources. And finally," and now Palpatine's smile grew even more and his eyes glinted, "freedom, for both you and your friend here." He gestured at a startled Shades. "These are my offers."

Fib stood with his head down, not saying anything. Shades could only shake his head mutely in denial. They had no reason to trust this man. He'd had them arrested and thrown in that awful jail. He was using their brothers as cannon fodder all across the galaxy. He had had the Jedi killed for treason, but had never given anyone, least of all the clones, a satisfactory reason. Edi had been killed because of him. He had murdered her, and that would have been enough for Shades to happily shoot the man, but his thrice cursed fear kept him rooted to the spot, unable to do a thing.

Fib finally spoke, though he didn't raise his head. "So those are your offers? Well, first off, I'll let you know that I've never been very interested in power. In my experience, nothing good ever comes of it, and it creates more headaches than fixes. Wealth? You're right about clones not having material possessions, and to be honest, I think it's the last thing anyone needs. Such a hassle when you're trying to move quickly.

"Freedom…" Fib's voice trailed off for a second, sounding almost wistful. "You almost had me with that one. And you might be telling the truth, at least for me. But Shades? I don't think for a moment that that's a promise you'll keep once you've gotten what you want. Are those really your only offers, sir? I was hoping for a little more originality."

Palpatine was now looking distinctly less smug. Shades's mouth had fallen open in horror. What was the idiot doing? You didn't mock the Emperor like that. No one mocked the Emperor like that! Nobody but Fib, apparently.

"There is one thing, though…"

Shades's head snapped abruptly to look at Fib. The medic's shoulders were tense. There was something different in his voice. The mocking edge was gone; Fib was being completely serious now.

"I know you're strong," the other clone whispered. "There's just one thing that you can to do convince me to serve you." Fib looked up now, and there was a ferocious sadness in his eyes. "Bring my brother back. Give me Grayson, alive and whole, and I'll serve you gladly, without question."

Shades's blood ran cold. There was challenge in Fib's voice, but the sergeant knew his brother well enough to catch the undercurrent of desperate hope that ran through his words. He's serious. If Palpatine can give him Grayson, then he really will serve him. Shades's heart nearly broke at the thought. Fib understood better than anyone that there was no way to bring a person back from the dead, Force or no. And yet some part of him still hoped that there was a way, a way to at least see his brother one more time. A way that he could tell him everything he'd left unsaid.

Palpatine seemed to have regained his sense of control over the situation. "Very well, my young healer." There was evident glee in his voice. "I'm certain that together you and I—"

"No. You weren't listening. You give me Grayson now, then I serve you. I'm not interested in all the things we can 'accomplish.' Give me my brother, or you get nothing."

The smile was completely gone from Palpatine's face. Fib's lips curled up in a sneer.

"What, all out of offers? So soon? You forget, I'm a healer. I understand the limits of what the Force can accomplish over life and death, even better than you."

Palpatine's eyes glinted with a cold fire. "I do not appreciate being mocked. Especially not by a clone. Is that your final decision?"

"Yes."

"So be it."

Lightning, hot and white and bright in the darkness, shot from Palpatine's outstretched hand. It leapt, arcing over the distance, and struck Fib squarely in the chest. The medic was too surprised to cry out. He simply toppled backwards, clutching his chest.

A shrill shriek filled the small room. Shades lunged forward blindly, unsure if he was headed for Fib or Palpatine, but instinct and training drove him toward the threat. His brother's choked gasps drove him on, a drumbeat in his ears and chest. The Emperor gave an almost negligent flick of his hand, and Shades was hurled backwards into the wall. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs and set his spasming chest on fire. All the bone deep aches and torn muscles woke up at once, howling with a vengeance. The pain blurred Shades's vision, and, as he struggled to breathe, an invisible weight settled on him, making movement impossible. He couldn't lift his limbs, couldn't breathe. He couldn't even blink.

Palpatine spoke, and his voice was as cold as the vacuum of space. "If you will not serve me, then you will die. But do not make the mistake of thinking that your death will be a swift one. You will suffer, and your friend will be forced to watch."

Shades could only stare, helpless and frozen, as the Emperor stretched out a gnarled had toward Fib. The medic had somehow pushed himself to his knees. Shades could see the ugly burn on his brother's chest where the lightning had struck him. He wanted to scream a warning, to tell the other man to leave him and get out while he still could, but his vocal cords were frozen and his throat sealed shut.

Fib was breathing raggedly in harsh, quick bursts. As he locked gazes with Palpatine, his own eyes widened and defocused, seeing something that wasn't in the room with them. Then came the screams.

Darth Sidious sneered as the clone choked and sobbed in front of him. Occasionally he found the breath to scream out a name. "Grayson" and "Edi" were the ones most often repeated, but they were by no means the only ones. How fascinating.

This was one of the Sith Lord's favorite techniques. By mentally reaching into his victim's mind, he could force them to relive all the worse memories of their life, over and over and over again to the point where it seemed to cause physical pain. The more painful the memories, the more pronounced the affect, and this clone had painful memories in abundance.

It was a pity that he didn't get to use this technique more often.

Time is cruel. When every second is a living torment, time slows to a crawl, forcing you to live each moment fully, to the point where you are certain your sanity will shatter under the strain.

Shades himself wasn't being tortured, not physically, but he was certain that he was about to lose his mind. Every one of his brother's screams was a rusty nail being driven into his heart until it spasmed and stuttered with each beat. If he'd been given the chance to take Fib's place, shades would have done so without a thought. But he hadn't been given a choice. He was being forced to sit by and watch as his brother was tortured right in front of him. The pain was greater than anything he'd ever felt, and it was tearing him apart.

Then, mercifully, Palpatine withdrew his hand, and Fib collapsed to his hands and knees, shaking and sobbing brokenly.

"So much pain in you," Palpatine murmured, his voice soft, almost gentle. "It's been eating at you for years, hasn't it? First on Kamino. Your fellow clones knew that there was something wrong with you, right from the start. Freak they called you, and you knew they were right. Only one person thought differently, and he died for it. You as good as killed him. Your only friend, dead because of you, because of what you are. You tried to deny it. You lied to yourself, told yourself that it was all out of your control. You even had that audacity to make new friends. But they weren't really your friends, because you never really trusted them. You hid your true self from them, because if they knew how broken and miserable and ugly you were, they would turn away in disgust."

The Emperor let out a bark of shrill laughter. "But it changed nothing, in the end. They still died, or are as good as dead. Because of you and what you are. A freak." He fairly cackled with glee. "Can you feel that pain? Your brother's pain? That pain is your fault, as surely as your other friends' deaths were. In watching you suffer, he suffers more. He will watch you die, knowing that there is nothing he can do to save you, and in that knowing, he will damn you. You brought this on him when you chose to defy me."

That's not true! Shades screamed mentally. None of that's true, Fib! Don't you dare believe it for a second! But his brother couldn't hear him.

Lightning arced again from Palpatine' hands, striking Fib where he crouched. His initial grunts of pain turned quickly to screams of agony. Lightning raged in and about his body, wreathing him in a flickering halo of fire. The room flashed and flickered, the harsh whiteness of the lightning reaching into every corner, touching everything but the shadow that created it. Each spike of hot energy was branded on the backs of Shades's eyes. There had to be lightning inside him, too. That was the only explanation for the terrible, raw, roiling pain that was eating his heart. Fib's screams and Palpatine's maniacal laughter echoed endlessly throughout the room, creating a lurid counterpoint to the bright flashed of lightning.

Palpatine raised a clenched fist, and Fib was jerked into the air. Laughing shrilly, the Emperor sent another burst of lightning into the medic's body. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he hurled the writhing from into the far wall. At the moment of impact, lightning exploded from the clone's body, which fell heavily to the ground. Fib didn't even scream.

Now Palpatine's laughter was the only sound in the room. He folded his hands inside his robes, and at the same time, the inexorable weight that had been pinning Shades was lifted. He scrambled forward on his hands and knees, pain completely forgotten. His own pain didn't even exist anymore as Shades finally pulled Fib's burned body into his trembling arms.

"Fib," he whispered, not even hearing his own voice. The only sounds that seemed real anymore were the other clone's weak, gasping breaths. Everything else had faded to white noise that meant nothing. The world was falling apart around him, and the only thing that was tangible anymore was the trembling body in his arms. This can't be happening part of Shades thought numbly, while another part was screaming and raging that everyone would pay for this, and he didn't know which to listen to. If heart cracking rage and blinding grief could kill, then Palpatine and half of Coruscant would have been dead.

Shades clutched Fib tighter, trying to press their bodies closer together and into one another, trying to dissolve the barrier of bruised and burned skin that so cruelly kept them apart. He was barely aware of his own movements, how his hands struggled to touch every inch of hot skin and the way he was pressing desperate, openmouthed kisses to his brother's forehead and fluttering eyelids.

"Fib," he moaned again. Force, please! Help me!

He noticed suddenly that Fib's groans had changed slightly. Pulling back, his tear-filled eyes met Fib's own. The other man's eyes were filled with pain, but they seemed oddly calm. He managed small smile, and that one expression, so simple and agonizing and beautiful, broke Shades's heart. He sobbed hoarsely, pressing their foreheads together.

"How can this be happening?" he choked out.

"It's—it's okay, Shades," Fib gasped, body shuddering. "It's all right."

No, no it's not! Shades had to fight back the hysterical urge to laugh. Fib was the one in trouble, and yet he was the one offering comfort. How like the man, to defy conventional roles even now. Shades struggled to force down his panic and was only partially successful.

"Shh, shh, stop talking," he murmured. This couldn't be happening, he needed help, why wasn't anyone coming? "Just hand on, okay? You'll be fine." He didn't know who he was trying to convince anymore.

"It's okay." Fib's burned and violently trembling hand rose to touch Shades's cheek. "It doesn't…doesn't hurt…anymore. I c-can't feel anything." His voice was so gentle.

No. No. He wasn't hearing this. It's not real, this can't be real—Fib's not dying, he's not. "Hang on, Fib. Just hang on. You can heal this. You've fixed worse. Do you hear me? Don't you dare die on me. Don't you dare leave me. You'll be fine, okay? You'll be fine. Just keep fighting. Please. Please, don't…don't leave me." Tears had started falling, running like a scalding river down his cheeks. His voice dropped to a desperate and choked whisper, helpless and pleading. "What'll I do?"

"You—" Fib coughed, burned chest spasming violently with the movement, "you'll keep going…move on…"

"No—"

"Don't…be scared, Shades," Fib whispered, his fingers weak against Shades's face and chest struggling. His vibrant brown eyes were rapidly fading. "Don't…be afraid…it's okay…" His gaze grew unfocused. "I…"

His voice trailed off, and it was a small eternity before Shades realized that Shades had stopped breathing.

He was dead.

"No!" The wailing moan echoed within the confines of the small dark room. Shades pressed his forehead to Fib's, feeling the last vestiges of his life turning to ash that slipped through his fingers, no matter how tightly he clutched at them.

"Fib…I love you," he whispered in a voice filled with desperation and sadness that the other man would never hear. "I love you…"

Shades stared into his brother's dead eyes. There, through tear blurred vision, he saw reflected in Fib's pupils an explosion of radiance more beautiful than anything he had ever seen, or could ever hope to see again. It was something beautiful, precious, heartbreaking, and full of promise. But he couldn't understand.

He's out on my life…he's out of my life…

The world fell away around Shades until he was left standing alone in a resonating emptiness that was too crowded to bear. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. There was nothing left, nothing, and yet it was all too much, too suffocating, too heavy. He didn't know whether to live or to die. Living seemed altogether too much trouble to go about and dying took too much of an effort. He hid alone in a void that could never be filled again.

Never.

Distantly, Shades was aware of a pressure like a fist closing around his throat. He was aware of his body's automatic struggles to draw breath, but couldn't be bothered to care. His vision sparkled with a shoddy imitation of stars out a ship's viewport. As blackness began to eat at the edges of his consciousness, his ears rang with the sound of cold, triumphant laughter.

Scared and cold, with no one to offer him comfort, Shades fell into the waiting darkness.

So…there really was nothing in the end, after all…

A vast space, filled with a brilliance that does not leave it. There is no darkness here, for this is a place forever out of its reach. All is light and a beautiful, burst radiance.

A golden haze of eternal warmth wraps all in a loving embrace. Quiet ecstasy and ringing bliss. And an achingly familiar presence.

Fib?

Don't sound so surprised, you idiot.

You waited for me?

Infinite tenderness.

You wouldn't let me go.

They fall apart together.

Free.

For one final time, please, please review!

mad'ika