Chapter Summary: Luke and Vader meet with medical specialists as they nervously prepare for Vader's surgery the next day. And they have some fluff moments, too, because I can't stop them.

# # #

He couldn't sleep because his father couldn't sleep. With the speed his dad's mind was racing, they would both be awake all night.

Armed with three pillows, two plushies, and a respirator (which he didn't need, but his dad would fuss if he didn't bring one), Luke padded barefooted from his suite to his dad's bedroom. His father was propped up in his enormous bed, but his pale face was illuminated by the light of a datapad, which Luke suspected was being stared at without comprehension.

Vader barely glanced at him. "What are you doing?"

"I can't sleep," Luke said, tactfully omitting the reason. "Hold this." He reached over and pushed a pillow gently against his father's chest. "And this." He added Berrie on top of the pillow.

"Luke—"

"I said, hold them!" Oops, he'd just scolded Darth Vader. But the Sith obviously didn't mind. Luke arranged another pillow against the headboard next to the contraption that kept his dad upright and able to breathe (he privately thought of it as an oyster shell and his dad was the pearl inside) and had to climb onto the ridiculously high crib one knee at a time. "Did you bring this set from Vjun or do you have them everywhere you sleep? I hope you never fall out of this thing."

"It's not a crib. And apparently tonight you are the one who had better not fall out."

"Yeah, that could be tragic!" he agreed as he pulled the third pillow and Darth Fluffy against his own chest. "I'd probably break something. Like me. Okay, we're— No, not quite." With a wave of his hand, he lifted the datapad from his dad's fingers and floated it to the bedside table.

"Since when do you use hand gestures with the Force?"

"Since you threatened me with becoming an officer some day. I'm practicing my gestures— I told you I would!"

His father sighed softly. "Luke, I have duties I must complete."

"Your first duty is to rest. They said you should get as much sleep as possible for a couple days before the surgeries. Your body needs to be in peak condition, and sleeping helps."

"Thank you, Dr. Skywalker. But how can I relax with that thing in my bed?"

"You mean Darth Fluffy?" Luke blinked, cuddling the plushie under his chin and sending his dad an impish grin.

"You named it?" his father accused, making Luke laugh.

"Everyone has to have a name." He pressed Berrie and the pillow carefully back against his dad's chest when Vader attempted to move them off. "Leave them there. It's comforting to hold onto something at night. Dad, you're keeping me awake, too. Are you having second thoughts about the surgery?"

It was an illustration of the new depth of their bond that his father could be honest without being defensive or angry. "I am anxious. Excited, but nervous." His dad hesitated, making Luke nervous too.

"What?"

Sith Father's chest heaved as he drew a long breath. "I do not want to appear weak."

There were no words to respond sensibly to this, new vocabulary or old. "How…? You don't— You're kidding!"

"I am the Dark Lord of the Sith. My power has been absolute for nearly two decades. I am unreadable, unpredictable. People obey me because they fear my wrath. After so many years, do you believe they will fear a middle-aged man who would be pathetically bald if not for his own son sacrificing his hair? And not just them. With you…."

"With me, what?" Luke tightened his grip on Darth Fluffy. "On Vjun you said that I make you feel weak."

"What? No, I never—" His dad stared into his memory. "Oh. I believe I said that my love for you makes me weak, which is still true. My feelings for you make me vulnerable."

"Vjun." He scowled. "Not one of our better vacation spots. Maybe we shouldn't go there again."

"Son, you said it was productive— that however painful, we had worked out most of our conflicts and misunderstandings."

"Yeah, but it was still…. No, you're right." He sighed. "Geez, Dad, love doesn't make you weak. Not wearing a helmet doesn't make you weak. People don't need to fear you. Did your troops fear you during the Clone Wars?"

"No…."

"That's right—no! They followed you. Because they respected you. Honestly, it makes sense that people would work harder for you if they weren't afraid of being choked for no reason. Or very little reason," he added to avoid an argument. "Plus… don't get mad… but isn't it kind of disloyal to turn on people who are doing their best for you? Even if they fail. You told me that we learn from our mistakes."

"Disloyal?" His father went into silent mode after that word.

Luke waited as long as he could (nearly twenty seconds) before saying: "And besides, you're going to keep wearing your Sithly outfit for awhile yet, right? So Sidious doesn't know? You just won't need it. I think that makes you brave to stay in the suit when you don't have to. And you're not middle-aged yet." He held Darth Fluffy over his nose and peeked above the fur. "Just my humble opinion."

A small smile was the reaction he received. "You make sense. Occasionally."

"Hah. You know I'm the brains of this partnership." He grinned to demonstrate that he didn't really believe that. Maybe. Then with a sigh, Luke plucked at the sleeve of his pajamas. "I remember when you said that I was trying to remake you like Palpatine did. So… Dad, are you sure you want this? It's not just for me? Have I been pushing you into something you don't want?"

His father drew a long breath before he spoke. "I want these changes very much. I want to feel whole again— as whole as I can be. And, Bug, I told you that you were my impetus for finally making this decision."

"You did? I don't remember that."

"You don't?" His father's brow wrinkled. "Maybe I only thought it to myself. No— I'm certain I told you. I should have your memory functions checked. At any rate, after you nearly nagged me to death on Vjun, I decided—"

"Nagged?"

"Yes. Endlessly. At some point I decided it was easier to do what you wanted than face a lifetime of arguments."

A lifetime. "Seriously, Dad…."

"Seriously, Son… you provided the encouragement and motivation I lacked. You had expectations of me and saw a future for me. You made me feel—" Sith Father stopped suddenly, his exhalation aborted.

Luke waited, squeezing Darth Fluffy tighter.

Vader cleared his throat. "You made me feel worthy. I hadn't felt that way in so many years… that I was needed. Wanted. Loved." His dad snorted. "Foolishly, I thought I could prove you wrong, destroy your faith, and show you I was not worthy of your care. I wanted to show you that I was the person I believed I was— a killing machine, useless for anything or anyone else."

Yeah. There had been harsh words said on Vjun, words that had hurt at the time, but now he could understand them for what they truly had been.

"I'm sorry, Luke."

He wanted to brush off an apology as not necessary, but something in his heart told him to acknowledge it. "I know. I forgave you before we left Vjun. I knew that your words weren't really what you felt. Although right then, I didn't know that I knew. Until later. You know what I mean?"

His dad chuckled. "Terrifyingly, yes, I do. You talk in circles that I can follow."

"You are very wise, my lord. Apply that wisdom now and surrender to the inevitable. I'm staying right here and I'm going to tell you a bedtime story until we both fall asleep."

"Shall I tell you one instead? About the Battle of—"

"No! I'll tell you something nice. About a happy time."

As he'd hoped would happen, his father's arms tightened automatically around the softness of the pillow, and he stroked Berrie absently. "I would like that."

Luke settled in and leaned his head against his father's oyster shell, contentment blanketing him as he began to tell his dad about his first solo flight in a 'hopper.

He decided to leave out the part about the crash.

# # #

"Good morning." Up and showered and dressed before 0600– his dad must be proud of him. Or at least surprised.

Vader grunted, preoccupied with a handful of tubes that he handed over. "These are code cylinders that unlock full access to the entire ship. Keep them with you at all times."

Luke attached them to his belt. "But I've been all over the ship already!"

"Yes, with me. Now you can go on your own. But don't. They are to be used only in the event of an emergency."

Luke considered teasing and threatening to use them to sneak into the main kitchen for chanilla and pie, but realized his dad was too tense to joke. "All right, I promise."

"Good. Now pick out a long jacket to wear. The physicians do not need to see your lightsaber yet."

"Okay." He pursed his lips, trying to think of what to say to calm his dad's nerves. "Hey, did I tell you I did that weak-minded thing and it worked?"

"No, and I'm adding 'hey' to your list."

Luke groaned and slumped momentarily before continuing to sort through his closet. "Anyway… it worked."

"I suspect you are referring to what used to be called the Jedi Mind Trick."

"Oh. Yeah, well… I mean, what's it really called? It's a sneaky thing!"

"It's simply influencing people."

"So I'm an influencer now." Since his dad wasn't amused, he tried another tack as he pulled a black embroidered jacket off its hangar and handed it to his father. "Here, this one. You know, I had anesthesia when my hand was replaced."

"I know." Vader helped him on with it and fussed with the lapels. "What was it like?"

"Well...one second I was awake, and the next second I was awake, even though it was a week later. It didn't feel like anything. You won't be awake— but don't worry, I'll be awake for you. I'll know what's happening."

"I know. Thank you. Shall we?" His dad gestured to the consultation room, and Luke followed, his heart beginning to beat faster.

In the conference room, he found what he'd expected: a long table and a dozen probably-expert medical specialists of different species and generally unspecified genders were arrayed on one side. The other side of the table had only four chairs, and TwoOneBee was standing rigidly behind them like he was ready to snap and leap over to the other side and attack—

He's a medical droid, Luke, not a clanker.

Oh, right. He nodded to Captain LeKauf and Karas Jovay who followed them into the room. They sat, and Luke put on his most serious face to listen to a twenty-minute presentation (complete with charts and illustrations) that his dad would probably not have tolerated if it had been about any subject other than himself (or Luke).

"Doing several surgeries in a single extended session will take many hours." The main speaker was a Carosite with a long snout that had a hanging goatee that reminded him of Cris Andres. Luke wondered what would happen if the doctor sneezed. And did they really make surgical masks that big? He was wrong to have assumed the doctors would be human just because Cris was. There were several Carosites across the table. Their fingers were as long as their noses. Pretty amazing, particularly if—

Stop thinking, his father said, which was easy to say and hard to do, but Luke decided to try harder.

"Are you certain you want to do all this, Lord Vader? Including surgery to repair the neural connections?"

"Yes," his father said tersely.

"If it won't lead to dangerous complications," Luke added, the first time he'd spoken.

"Complications occur, sir, but we do our utmost to minimize every possibility of a negative outcome. Our priority is our patient's safety and well-being." The consulting physician didn't seem to care who Luke was, which was a bit disconcerting because most people were curious when—

Focus, he reminded himself. This was the most important job of his life.

"Since you are intent on making changes, my lord, I have another proposal to discuss with you."

Vader waited. Luke forced himself to remain still. "Continue," he said after a moment, accepting that part of his important job was to speak when his dad didn't.

The doctor acknowledged him but spoke to his father. "When we open your chest to insert the lungs, we would also be able to exchange the exterior scar tissue so you would no longer need repetitive debridements. However, you would need to have the synthskin on your torso removed later today so the muscles have time to relax."

"Would that hurt?" Luke's voice shook a little and he felt queasy. Were they proposing skinning his dad?

"The removal, yes, sir, but no more than your normal debridement procedure, my lord. However, having no protection over the damaged subcutaneous tissue would be more painful than usual, as we would prefer your support suit remain off until surgery tomorrow. For your comfort and health, I would advise that you spend the overnight period in a bacta tank rather than exposing your body to foreign fabrics or substances."

Why did everything have to hurt his dad? He swallowed back tears, looking down at the edge of the table to hide his distress.

"Yes." There was no hesitation in the Dark Lord's assent. "How will you 'exchange' the scar tissue?"

"After completing the organ transplant, we would replace the damaged areas of skin with an organic tissue that will permanently adhere to the muscles. Be aware that this is an experimental procedure that has only been used on animals, but it has been highly successful."

Experimental?!

Humans are animals, Luke.

"What if it doesn't heal right?" he blurted.

"With his lordship's permission," the doctor said directly to Luke, "some of the team would remain here for a week to monitor the healing process. If there is a problem, the tissue would need to be removed surgically."

Now he really was starting to feel sick.

"During all the procedures, rather than lying directly on the table, my lord, you will be held in rigid suspension, and so…." The physician hesitated. "Although I don't necessarily recommend it because of additional post-operative discomfort, we could also treat the skin on your back and posterior in the same fashion. The treatments would include, of course, your neck and the remaining upper portions of your limbs."

"What about my face and head? Can they also be treated?"

"My lord, the synthskin you have now is more than adequate." The physician stifled a sigh when the Sith kept looking at him. "Yes, they can, but for every additional procedure, the possibility of complications increases and your healing time will lengthen."

Dad… leave your head alone. He's right about the synthskin— it looks perfect.

"With the help of the Force, I expect most of the healing to be completed within one or two days." I want it all done now, Luke.

Of course. His dad always wanted everything and he wanted it now.

A few people on the medical team shifted in their chairs at the mention of the Force, but several nodded with interest. Luke gave his father a sideways glance to acknowledge receipt of his disagreement, then focused on the others. "He wants every possible procedure to be done." Because he's a bottomless pit of need, he added silently for his dad's benefit.

"My young associate is correct. Everything that can be done, must be done now. My availability is limited."

"Yes, my lord. The operations team will consist of four surgeons, two dermatologists, three plastic surgeons, two anesthesiologists, three—"

"I do not require an inventory of your staff, Doctor. My security people have those details. In addition to my medical staff, my associate will be present in the operating suite for the entire time. He has full access to my medical records in the unlikely event that you have unresolved questions during the procedures."

"I— my lord, I must protest." For the first time, the specialist was flustered. "The sterilization required is most—"

"You can sterilize me," Luke interrupted.

That seems like a drastic step, my son.

He managed not to smile. "Whatever you need me to do," he told the medics, "I'll do. I will be there."

"Captains LeKauf and Jovay will provide support and security," his dad continued, "for the entire team, myself, and my associate. They will be stationed in the viewing area."

"As will I," TwoOneBee stated with what almost sounded like a huff. Luke gave him a tentative smile and was pleased when Vader acknowledged the droid with a nod.

"We have no objection to viewers—"

"Three viewers." I'm not an object for display.

I know, Dad. Just the captains and TwoOneBee.

"Three viewers," the medical director confirmed, "but under no circumstances will they enter the suite without proper decontamination. We will not risk tainting the sterile field. And in addition to the—"

His dad's head turned sharply, shifting behind the physicians to the door. Captain Jovay rose and exited, returning almost instantly.

"My lord, the Emperor wishes to make contact immediately."

Luke nearly rolled his eyes, but managed to change his expression into something that was not quite a frown. Everyone was silent as his father left. Then they looked at him.

Now what? He reached up to push a strand of hair off his forehead before remembering that he had no hair and changed his gesture into a meaningless wave. "In what order will the surgeries be done?"

"Lungs first as that appears to be Lord Vader's priority." The physician paused, waiting to see if Luke disagreed. When he didn't, the Carosite continued, "During that procedure, the organic tissue will be prepared. After chest closure— assuming we don't find additional unexpected damage that must be repaired— we will complete the skin exchange. If the patient is stable, the neurologists will then attempt to repair the neural connections. Hopefully, we will be able to replace tissue around the skull as requested."

Luke nodded, though in truth he was beginning to be afraid of… well, pretty much everything. Suddenly he understood his dad's need to make threats, but managed to restrain his urge. If any harm comes to him while he is in your care, I will burn down the galaxy. "Is there more we need to discuss right now?"

"Yes. As I was saying, in addition to the observers in the viewing area, we would like Lord Vader's donor available if possible."

"Donor?" What the hell was— Oh. "You mean for DNA? Because of the cloned lungs?"

"And in the highly unlikely event that he needs an emergency blood transfusion."

"Oh." He was feeling queasy again. "That would be me."

Without subtlety, the physician's eyes flickered toward his hands. Luke raised his right one.

"Nice work," someone at the end of the table commented. "I wouldn't have known."

"Thank you for your input, doctor," the head physician said, sounding slightly annoyed. "I believe we've covered everything. Team members will spend the rest of today reviewing his lordship's medical records and initiating his pre-operative procedures. I strongly suggest having a bacta tank ready by this afternoon."

He turned around. "TwoOneBee, will you please prepare it?"

"Of course, sir," the droid said politely, evidently not as upset with the usurping medics as he had been previously.

Luke stood. "Then we're done here. Gentlebeings, thank you for the care you have shown and are about to provide. Lord Vader and all of us are grateful for your willingness to restore what he lost and… lessen his suffering." He would have continued, but his voice shook with the last few words. It was enough— no, actually it was too much that several of the medics sent him kind looks, and he left the room before his eyes could form tears.

# # #

He twisted his fingers behind his back, but willed himself to remain still. His father's hands were clenched and he was pacing, his cape swirling each time he turned (which Luke couldn't help but admire despite the circumstances). "What did he want?"

Vader snorted. "Xizor! More complaints about Xizor! Now he wants me to destroy the damned skyhook—after I have begged to do just that for years. Now!"

"Do you think he knows about your surgery?"

"No, or he would have waited until tomorrow. He wants to punish Xizor for attacking the Executor. But it should be an accident— so he can pretend he's innocent! Which Xizor would see through immediately. And as for punishing him— bah, as if blowing up the skyhook would do that! Certainly, it would be a blow to the 'Prince', but it would not break up Black Sun— which Palpatine uses for supplies and spying— hence his desire to appear uninvolved. He's being—" Vader paused in his rant only long enough to shake his head. "I told him I would do it— which I won't, of course, because I have other plans for Xizor— but said that the ship is still having problems with alignment and suffers sluggish responses to many maneuvers due to damage inflicted in the explosion. Which is obviously a stalling tactic, but Sidious doesn't know shit-all about ships so he accepted it."

Luke laughed in surprise at his dad's words. "I've never seen a skyhook."

"You'll see mine one day— on Coruscant." His father continued to pace but was calming slowly. "He's afraid Xizor will turn on him. The so-called 'Prince' is the third most powerful person in the galaxy and—"

"What?" Luke interrupted. "I thought I was third!"

Sith Father paused. "With the Force, yes. Xizor is powerful in terms of wealth and influence. After Palpatine and me."

"Huh." He supposed he had to accept that for now. "This seems like suspicious timing. Are you sure he doesn't know about your surgery?"

"He doesn't. This is normal behavior. He contacts me frequently to whine and issue orders that he doesn't truly expect to be followed. Games. He likes to play games. When he's not manipulating someone or something, he becomes bored."

The idea of the Emperor being a bored whiner was appealing. "He should take up knitting." Luke pursed his lips. "Do you think Xizor would turn on him? Maybe he should be our ally. I mean, if Black Sun is so powerful—"

"I will never ally with Xizor!" His dad scowled at him. "At any rate, Xizor is more arrogant than brave. He will always defer to the strongest. And I have other plans for him and his criminal organization. Still, I should ponder this situation more fully today and speak with a few of my agents in the Palace."

"Only that, but then the rest of today is about you. We have to meet with the specialists about the pre-op stuff and you need to rest. We both should. It's going to be a...a difficult evening, Dad, without… you know." No skin, no suit, and bacta. He tried to broadcast optimism.

His father turned his head away. "I know."

"You're the bravest person I've ever known," he declared earnestly. "I'll be with you the whole time. Between us, we can prevent most of the pain and eliminate the rest right away." Eliminate had to be possible, because anything less than that was not acceptable.

"Perhaps. You must meet with Jovay. He will review security measures with you. LeKauf will take care of any personal needs you may have in the next few days."

Personal needs? That sounded uncomfortable and maybe a little ewww…. "Like what?"

"Yes, like refresher breaks, Luke. Clean underwear. Meals. Possibly even pie and chanilla."

He nodded, trying to smile and wishing he could give his dad more than healing and love. One day maybe he might be powerful enough to change the past.

"Healing and love is more than I ever expected to receive, Bug."

"Me too," Luke replied hesitantly.

That seemed to be enough for both of them. "Then let's get to work." A big hand on the back of his neck steered him toward his dad's office.