CHAPTER SUMMARY: After fluffy father-son reassurances, Vader's life-altering surgery begins, and Luke tries hard to be a strong, supportive son to his stubborn dad. WARNING for medical procedures (not many and not graphic) but if that makes you uncomfortable, skim over those parts.
"Hey!"
His father looked over at him. "Be mindful of what you say."
"Is 'hey' on my list of forbidden words? I don't remember, The List has gotten so long." He sighed. "Being censored makes me feel woeful."
"Woeful?" His father did a predictable head-shake-chuckle, and Luke was pleased that he'd managed a few seconds of levity from the heavy burden of anticipation they both felt.
"Anyway… I mean— Geez, can we forget The List for a minute? I remembered something. The doctors didn't say anything about your retina replacements. Did you decide not to do it? I hope so! And please skip your face and head, they're fine!" All of which, in his eyes, would be good decisions because there were too many scheduled surgeries already.
"The eye surgery will be performed today shortly before the debridement. Within the hour, in fact. They believe that spending the night in bacta will help with the healing."
"What? But—what? Now?!" He didn't bother to hide his scowl. "Are you kidding? Why do you want to keep traumatizing yourself? You don't have to have every single thing done at once!"
"Let me enumerate as you are so fond of doing. One: My head is not fine, it has holes in it— which are from the mask, young man, before you blurt something that is not mindful. Two: I may not have another trio of opportunities like this again. I have my Force-strong son with me, Palpatine distracted with thoughts of Xizor, and a sensible admiral on the Bridge. Three: Luke, I've had almost two decades of trauma— more than that if you consider war to be traumatic. What are a few more days?"
"It's not about how long it lasts, it's about having so many surgeries at once." He kept glaring, closing the distance between them until he was standing toe to toe with his dad who put his hands on his hips. Abruptly Luke changed tactics and stretched up to latch his arms around Sith Father's neck. Vader sighed, bent, and wrapped him in a hug, lifting him off his feet.
"What brought this on?"
Luke muffled his voice into the silky robe his dad had donned after removing The Suit in preparation for— well, he'd thought it was for debridement, but now there was the retina surgery too. "We might not be able to hug for a few days."
"True," Vader agreed and didn't release him, which was better than a million words of reassurance.
"You know," he ventured after a moment, "when I helped with the last debridement, you were only in pain a few times before we controlled it."
"You controlled it," his dad corrected.
"Yeah, but later we practiced healing together— and you healed me after the explosion! So with both of us doing healing, you shouldn't hurt at all. Even if you still insist on having so much work done." He rubbed his head against the Dark Lord's shoulder, purring under his breath. "You're the most stubborn and terrific person I've ever known."
The chest vibrated with amusement. "Stubborn, yes. But if you truly mean 'terrific', Bug, I fear for the company you are keeping. You need to enlarge your circle of acquaintances."
"I'm serious! You're loving and you're brave. You're my hero."
His father tried to scoff but there was unhidden pleasure in his tone. "You are the only person in the galaxy who thinks such things about me. Everyone else believes the opposite."
Oh, that triggered a memory! "And just who is evvvvveryone?" he drawled, tilting back his head, certain his dad would remember his repeated reprimand when they were first together. "Let me enumerate. One: Plenty of people think you're amazing. They're not following you only because they want to take down Palpatine— they trust you and believe in you. They know that you can do it. Two: Who else knows you like I do? That's right, no one! So I'm right and everyone is wrong."
"Fine," his father said, imitating him yet again. After a final squeeze to his waist, Vader pushed him away. "Enough snuggles, Bug. If someone were to come in, my image would be ruined. Now take my lightsaber. You will keep it until I'm recovered and able to wield it."
"Yessir! Until I give it back to you, I will wield it!" He accepted the heavy weapon and shook it in the air before clipping it to his right hip. It moved like it wanted to swing to the other side to confront his own saber, and he gave it a small frown.
"I hope I can still roll my eyes after this surgery," Sith Father said, "because you make me want to. Now, walk this way."
He knew his dad said that to give him the opportunity to strut after him like he was a giant, confident Sith Lord.
# # #
He watched the eye surgery from behind the viewing window. At least this wasn't (too) gruesome, although maybe that was only because it was a tiny area and he couldn't see it very well, plus they were using a probe with a laser so it wasn't (too) bloody. But poking around in eyes made him cringe. His dad had only light sedation, and Luke easily connected to send calmness to him. Although Vader seemed pretty calm on his own.
When the short procedure ended, his father was made to continue to lie motionless. During the pause, Luke took the opportunity to hold both lightsabers in his hands and speak to them. "You two are friends," he murmured. "You know each other. Sure, you sparred but that was only practice. You're both Skywalker weapons, father and son. Remember that. I want you to get along with each other. And help and protect each other just like my dad and I do. Okay?"
"Are you speaking to us?"
Luke turned. LeKauf and Jovay had approached and were standing with hands behind their backs like children hiding cookies. "Yes. Well…. Okay, no. Not exactly. Maybe. No."
Jovay raised one eyebrow.
"I was talking to the lightsabers." He pushed away his jacket and hooked each saber to its assigned side. "Sort of an introduction. A reminder that they shouldn't fight each other."
It took several seconds for a hesitant response, and it came from Jovay. "Are you saying that lightsabers are sentient?"
A question with an uncertain answer. "Maybe." He changed the subject. "Tomorrow I'll be meditating with my father during and after surgery. But don't let me fall asleep."
"Will we be able to tell the difference between meditation and sleep?" It was a good thing LeKauf asked, because if the question had come from Jovay, Luke would have suspected sarcasm.
"I'm not sure. I don't think I snore. But if I'm meditating, I should be able to acknowledge you, at least briefly. But we'll be working on healing, so don't interrupt unless you absolutely have to."
"You are expected to take regular breaks over the next few days," LeKauf said firmly. "Lord Vader was most specific about that. The surgeries themselves will take the majority of tomorrow morning, and his lordship said the healing could take up to two days."
That seemed awfully quick for healing from major surgeries, but the Force was an endless fountain of miracles, so maybe the timeline was right. "I can take short moments away, provided I can maintain the mental link with him. I won't need many breaks though." In his head, his dad said: meals, refresher, exercise, more meals, dessert, clean underwear. Luke clicked his tongue. "I don't know why he's obsessed with clean underwear. What difference does it make? And I mean, seriously, do you know how many layers I'd have to take off to get down to underwear? Look at all these clothes I'm wearing! And lightsabers! And boots!"
And the bodyglove, his dad reminded. Don't forget to wear that. You ARE wearing it, aren't you?
"Yes!" he snapped. Will you concentrate on recovering and relaxing and stop worrying about ME? "Sorry," he said to the two captains. "I'll be… cooperative. But my priority will always be helping my dad."
"I know," LeKauf said. "I'm going to check on the bacta tank again. It's almost ready."
"I'll wait in the next room to give you some meditative privacy," Karas Jovay said. "And by the way, Baldy, that haircut makes you look appropriately military."
"Pffft. Go tell that to Captain Gallia. He's charged with making me appropriate." Luke smiled (although he wasn't joking) and refocused his energy on his father.
# # #
The debridement process was as awful as it had been on Vjun. Luke swallowed hard, which seemed to keep back tears, but still he flinched as robotic arms in the bacta tank scrubbed necrotic tissue from his dad's torso. Their bond told him that Vader was in very little pain as long as they stayed linked, but his body looked raw when he was lifted out and hosed off. Tiny pieces of synth and old tissue flaked and fluttered to the floor.
He almost lost control of their healing link when the synthskin was removed from his father's face and head, but TwoOneBee appeared to be gentle as he wiped around his dad's eyes, reddened after the retina replacements. Luke tightened his grip into his father's mind and sighed with relief as Vader closed his eyelids when he was lowered back into the tank with another respirator and mask attached to his face.
Soon you won't need any of this.
His dad's agreement was formless, and Luke felt Vader's tension and emotional exhaustion give way to relief. The bacta was soothing (despite the smell). Are there other bacta tanks on the ship? For other people?
Yes. May I rest now?
Oops, he was getting distracted from his Important Job. Luke closed his own eyes to eliminate distractions and gathered his father's mind closer and closer until all the discomfort vanished. Sleep, he suggested and was relieved when Vader began to drift into quiet. He brushed away wetness from his cheeks.
"I hate this," he muttered.
"You do?" TwoOneBee looked at his expression. "Is that 'hate'? I do not see 'anger' on your face, but perhaps I am mistaken."
Luke tilted his head. "No, I'm not angry...exactly. And I'm not feeling hate hate. Sometimes when humans say they hate something, it's not because they're angry. I meant that I don't like my father having to go through these procedures because they hurt him."
Two's head swiveled between him and the tank. "I was as careful as I could be, Luke."
"I know you were." He smiled and patted Two's arm. The droid startled. "I saw your gentleness. You're a great medic, Two. I'm very glad you're here for my dad."
"Oh." If the droid had been human, he would have blushed. "Thank you. I need additional clarification on another point, Luke. You are referring to Lord Vader as 'father' and 'dad'. You told me those words meant that he was your mentor. However, from what I have heard and seen in these quarters that does not seem totally accurate."
"Ah. Yeah, sorry. I mean, he is my mentor, but he's also my father. My biological parent."
Two nodded. "I understand. He created you in sexual congress with another of your species, and your parts developed inside one member of the pair until—"
"Okay, Two. I know how it happened. But it's not polite to talk about such matters outside of a…. Well, let's not talk about the intimate details, okay?"
A snort of laughter came from the doorway. "You might learn something from the droid," Jovay said.
"There are millions of facts Luke could learn from me," Two said earnestly. "As could you, Captain Jovay. However, you should not be here. Your duty post is outside this room."
"Just checking in with Luke. Things going okay?"
"We're fine." He sent a concerned glance at his dad even though he could feel him resting peacefully. "We'll be fine for the evening," he added pointedly.
Jovay's lips quirked. "Fine," he echoed. "LeKauf will be in later with your dinner. Etcetera."
"Good night!" Really! "Shoo! But thanks for checking."
With TwoOneBee putting things to right in the background, Luke settled into a comfortable chair and simply mellowed with his dad.
# # #
The night hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped. For one thing, different physicians kept coming in every hour to check on Vader as if TwoOneBee and Luke didn't have it all under control. One Carosite (yes, of course it had a mask covering its long snout; Luke felt dumb that he'd wondered if it was possible) said it was "remarkable that his lordship doesn't need pain medications— although that will change after tomorrow's surgeries". Luke was tempted to make them stumble on the way out, but the doctor might be needed for the treatments, so he restrained his natural reaction of revenge.
His dad woke suddenly several times during the night, disoriented and agitated, thrashing in the bacta tank, calming only when he felt his son's presence. Luke figured he'd drifted off a few times himself and wondered guiltily if their relaxed contact had woken his dad.
Plus Captain LeKauf kept dropping in— three times until Luke told him to go to bed because he'd be needed the next day.
So now it was morning (although not by anyone's normal definition of 'morning') and his anxiety was growing. Maybe his father shouldn't have any surgeries. Maybe it was safer if he didn't. Maybe he would actually miss The Suit— and it was so protective, maybe it would be better if he kept it. Maybe they should do the surgeries one at a time over the next few years after Sidious was safely out of the way. Maybe—
"Luke?"
The tone made him wonder if LeKauf had addressed him more than once. "G'morning," he whispered, because it was 0300 and his dad was too aware of what went on around him. Go back to sleep.
"Good morning." The older man didn't ask if everything was all right because he could see it was (and wasn't). "I'm covering for you. You have an hour for breakfast and a rest— don't argue, those are your father's instructions. Clothes are laid out in your room."
He opened his mouth to ask why people thought he couldn't dress himself, but snapped it closed when LeKauf nodded toward the tank and smiled faintly.
Fine. Father's orders then. "Thanks, Cap." Briefly he pressed his forehead and both hands against the tank and shared reassurances through their bond.
You're more worried than I am, Bug. Take a nap.
Yeah but, geez, he sent, just to make his father smile— although he couldn't smile, not really, with a mask and respirator over raw, stretched skin.
Admittedly it felt good to shower and nap briefly. The clothes that had been "laid out" had obviously been selected for comfort (and maybe for ease of sterilization). Except for the bodyglove, which would never be his favorite… accoutrement, he thought as the face of Cris Andres crossed his mind. He shook his head to dismiss that memory. Like he'd told his dad so many times, feeling guilty never changed anything or helped anyone. He needed to take his own advice.
The clothing was strictly boring beige: a simple jumpsuit, soft shoes, a belt, a plain over-tunic to hide the sabers, and a package that he opened immediately, wondering if— Yes, it was a stack of folded briefs… blue, printed with gold stars. Dad! He laughed aloud, then dressed quickly, hurrying to return to his father, and finding him—
Already in the operating suite, being hoisted and suspended like a piece of meat in a market stall. Although with far more care than a slaughtered animal was handled.
Dad, I'm here!
"Sir. Please put these on and enter the sterilization field." A Carosite wearing a stylish outfit of stiff paper offered assistance to drape him in a matching ensemble of blue flimsi. Because of course there would be more: a hideous set consisting of a baggy top and pants, adorable (not) paper booties to cover his shoes, and a loose hood with a clear face shield that went over his entire head. And synthetic gloves. It was ugly, but he felt like a professional, maybe even like a doctor. If he went to school, he could become a doctor and wear this all the— Never mind, scratch that career idea.
He followed someone else, Paper Figure #2 (obviously not a Carosite because the hood didn't poke out far enough) and they paused under an arch that turned blue-white for several seconds. Luke was certain he could feel dangerous rays of whatever piercing through him. His arms itched, but he couldn't scratch them through all these layers, so he just wriggled— hopefully inconspicuously.
Paper Figure #1 blocked his view of his father. "Lord Vader said you would confirm his medical history." PF#1 held a scanner in front of his face.
Dad? Okay?
Yes. Iris scan… if that's really you under all that flimsi, Bug.
He complied by staring unblinkingly into the scanner that apparently drained his dad's records out of his brain. Yeah, it's me. Are you all right?
Yes. They haven't done anything so far… other than treat me like a patient instead of the magnificent Sith Lord that I am.
You ARE a patient, Dad. So BE patient. And obedient.
The very definition of me.
Yeah, right. And hey, thanks for the...uh...blue with gold stars. That was unexpected. I only wish everyone could see them.
No one should see them, my dear baby boy.
Geez, Dad!
Enough joking. He remained quietly alert and connected as anesthesia began to be administered. You're okay… you're fine… I'm here... he kept sending as his dad's consciousness faded to a minimal level. Luke subdued his own moment of panic. PF#2 gestured him to a chair that was mounted on a raised platform to give him a good view. Not that they had noticed he was short, of course. So he was able to see clearly when—
Oh.
The surgeon held a laser tool and sliced across his dad's torso, folding the skin like he was turning pages. After a moment of queasiness, Luke controlled his anxiety and watched closely. This was the time for him to be present for his father, and he was going to monitor every movement of every hand— and other appendages, in the case of some of the surgeons.
This was The Most Important Job of His Life, and he would not let his dad down, no matter what. So far, it all seemed to be going pretty—
"Well," the surgeon said, "this is unexpected."
# # #