Recovering from Bespin, a feverish Luke Skywalker lets slip his parentage, but what will the Alliance do with the son of Darth Vader? Their mistake proves monumental and delivers Luke into the hands of his worst nightmare. Destiny goes into an about turn where there's only one person who can save Luke from the darkside - his father. Recovering from Bespin, a feverish Luke Skywalker lets slip his parentage, but what will the Alliance do with the son of Darth Vader? Their mistake proves monumental and delivers Luke into the hands of his worst nightmare. Destiny goes into an about turn where there's only one person who can save Luke from the darkside - his father.

C h a p t e r S i x t e en

The explosion knocked her off her feet and into long minutes of unconsciousness. When she woke, she was cold and she was bleeding and she couldn't remember why. Action came before thought, Leia crawling away from the dark heat, hands and feet sinking into snow. Wondering what she was crawling from was her first conscious thought, the sting of blood and ozone hitting the back of her throat and worrying at her memories. Then came wondering why her hands and fingers felt dead, and why the rest of her body was screaming in abject torment. When she coughed, there was the taste of ice mixing with the warmth of her own blood. She blinked, trying to force the scene around her to make some sense.

Her arms trembled and she remembered… lightning screaming through the air, pain exploding behind her eyes, writhing, screaming; dying maybe.

She forced her head up from the snow, biting down on the lip that was already split from the blast of… an explosion? She shook her head fiercely and memories finally came flooding back, the image of Luke and the Emperor standing entranced burnt onto her retina. She heaved her weight up on dead arms, shoving aside handfuls of powder-fine snow. Breathing came to her easily enough now she wasn't kissing the ground, and she took gasping lungfuls of the cold air.

Everything was quiet, even the snow made no sound as she dragged herself to her feet. Her voice hitched in her throat and she coughed again around the syrupy metal of her senses. It was too quiet, far too quiet after what had just happened. A cold wind stirred over the snow and she shivered.

She managed to shout "Luke!" before the scene erupted into chaos.

The deathly quiet of the scene was broken by the sound of blaster fire ripping open the air above her, bolts hitting the disturbed snow and erupting in miniature geezers. The ground lurched underneath her, snow tumbling and she lost her balance, shouting in surprise as snow evaporated around her and rose in curtains of superheated water.

The Emperor's guards. Took them long enough.

She looked around desperately, angry shouts and the thud of return fire hitting stone split the air. One voice she recognized above all the angry shouting,

"Han!" She turned, footing shifting on the suddenly unstable snow. As she turned, she took in the destruction that in her half-conscious desperation she'd been attempting to escape.

Again, her breath caught against her throat, terrified sobs hitching against her chest. The clean swath of snow Luke and the Emperor had stood upon only (seconds, minutes, hours) before was gone, replaced by the heaving side of a crater that dipped beyond her eye level, water hissing upwards as it evaporated from the heat, snow still falling down the sides from the blast that had knocked her senseless.

"Luke!" Was she reduced to single names for speech today? "Where… where are you?" She struggled to run forward but every muscle in her body chose the moment to spasm and her question turned into a sob of pain, anguish and frustration as she tried to wade through melting snow towards the crater. Luke? Where are you! There was no answer. You can't be dead! You can't! Not now!

More angry shouts from behind, one that sounded like her name, and she half turned to see a dark figure running across the snow. Her vision split, went binary, and started a lazy spin as every muscle in her body made a good attempt at contracting at once. Her fingers found little to haul herself forwards with and she was sinking into the snow, almost not feeling it begin to bury her as more blaster fire opened up hissing water around her and she was still crawling, still trying to go forward, still looking, calling, screaming for her brother, tears slipping past her resolve and -

"Leia? Leia! Calm down." Hands, rough but familiar, were shaking her and she realized she was sobbing, reaching forward blindly, and going nowhere. That voice though, it was warm like an embrace, comforting like a caress, soft and stern and concerned.

"Han?"

Blaster fire hit close by, comets streaking across her closed eyelids. The scene had descended into a war zone.

"It's all right, I'm here. Calm down." Someone stroked her frozen hair. "Calm down. Everything's okay."

"What happened?" Even the muscles in her jaw were spasming. More blaster fire, brilliant against the snow, like and unlike the lightning that Palpatine had-

The muscles in her legs cramped and she bit back a shout of pain. Don't think about that. Don't think… forget it. It's not burning anymore. It's not tearing you apart anymore. It's just a memory now…

"S'alright Leia." Someone hugged her and tried to banish the cold with comfort. "You're all right."

She nodded, almost believing. The air continued to hiss with shots from the Palace, the whine of speeders added a new current to an already chaotic scene, but the crater was still deathly quiet.

"Princess, now would be a very good time to leave this party." He tightened his grip. She looked up, saw the approaching black specks of the speeder bikes arrowing in on them. "The throne room's locked up but it looks like they're going to long way 'round."

Throne room? Locked up? What was he-

Of course… In all the confusion, she'd forgotten that they had left him to guard against interruptions. In the chaos of saber duels and Force Lightning - don't think about that - she'd not given any thought to what was happening beyond that one room. Some Rebel Leader.

"What happened?" she asked again.

"You know Leia, I have absolutely no idea." There were arms around her, tight now, bringing her to her feet. "We kept the guards away, until the explosion. Chewie's gone back for the Falcon; they're jamming the commlinks. I got to the window, well what's left of it, as they started firing on you. Your father was running for Luke. At least, I think it was Luke, in that crater." He nudged a shoulder in its general direction. "What the hell caused this - no, wait, maybe I don't want to know."

"I've got to get to Luke." Her fingers were managing to work back to life past the frostbite, telling her they still existed through the burning ache of muscles and bone. She struggled forward a step.

"No, come on." He hauled her backwards, "We have to get better cover." He started pulling her towards the stone walls of Palpatine's palace.

She wrenched her hand free, "No! I have to-"

"Leia! There's no time for this!" A hand around her shoulder, pulling her back. Her heart was hitting the back of the throat. There was still no movement from the crater's edge. "They'll be protected by the crater sides. We- "

"Then so will we." Stubborn refusal to give in kicked in like an afterburner and gave her strength enough to drag him forwards with her. Despite protests, he supported her as she struggled towards the ominously quiet crater trying to ignore the kick of blaster fire.

"Luke? Father!" Had she just called out that name? Han was firing back at the palace walls, cursing loudly at life in general and Skywalkers in particular.

Over the hunched shoulders of the crater, the destruction was shown in ridges of snow pin-wheeling outwards from the centre. And at the centre, the figure of Anakin Skywalker was hunched over the inert form of his son, both perfectly still, Anakin's hand resting on Luke's temple as the water continued to rise in hazy waves above them.

"Father!" His concentration snapped at her call, punctuated by green blaster bolts impacting in the snow beside them. Anakin's head came up, Darth Vader's gaze locked onto hers. Leia took a step forward and Han's curses got louder and more elaborate.

"Leia, those speeders are nearly here."

She nodded, "Father, we have to leave."

He was already lifting the inert form into his arms. As he climbed the steep slope of the crater, Luke's head lolling against the breastplate, he let his gaze sweep over destruction. More blaster fire illuminated the glint of metal buried in the snow and he called both lightsabers to his hand, snapping them to his belt.

"We have to call-"

The ground heaved under her again, Han holding her up with a hand around her waist whilst his blaster hand continued to exact retribution on the Imperials hidden by the palace walls. Snow again curtained them, adding to the confusion. She looked to the figure of the ex-Dark Lord holding her brother and had the bizarre urge to throw herself into an embrace with them

"Leia, get to the ship!" her father called, the deep boom of the vocoder breaking through the turbulent air.

Ship? What ship?

Before she could shout the question, a shadow fell over them, blocking out Corusca still screaming for the horizon. The Falcon hovered, not quite touching the melting snow.

Han's hand left her waist, wrapped itself around her wrist and hauled her towards the lowering ramp. Imperial blaster fire hit the hull of the ship, rebounding with a more metallic thud as they heaved out of the snow and into the safety of the corridor, her body protesting all the way.

Sudden acceleration and the screaming of her calf muscles made her lurch into Han, who had suddenly gone binary in her vision, plastering them against the acceleration padding.

"How… how is he?" she managed around gritted teeth. Her own injuries were nothing compared to the waxen face of her brother.

The wind and the blizzard howled beyond the closing landing ramp. "I put him in a healing trance." Anakin was pushing forward against the swaying of the ship in atmosphere. The blaster fire had died away with altitude. "He took the full force of the blast. We have to get to the medical centre." Short, blunt, to the point. Very Darth Vader, even if he did have the more kindly tones of Anakin Skywalker honeying his voice. Leia was beyond wrestling with her own perceptions.

"Where?"

"My castle…"

"Are you kidding!" Han shouted, banging backwards into the padding as the ship lurched again. "This is a wanted ship, we can't go near there!"

"You'd be surprised what Darth Vader can manage to permit on Imperial Centre." The tone was not quite humorous. Han quietly glared.

Leia ignored the argument and turned to Luke, who had also spawned a clone that revolved in her vision. She hissed at a sudden ache beneath her skull.

"Fine. Chewie!" Han let her wrist go and turned to stalk towards the cockpit, probably to throw Lando out of the pilot's seat. As he let her go, there was a strange falling sensation as her feet buckled and she started a slow slide for the deck. Han was still railing on, her father giving succinct rebuttals.

Both men turned to her as she hissed in pain. "Um… can I-" Whatever she was going to ask for was lost as she surprised even herself and slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

* * * *

He awoke to the feeling of soft silks on his skin and wide, brown eyes smiling.

"Good morning."

That voice… he knew that voice. It was almost too much to believe and the smile cracked across his face before he had time to really think. "Leia?"

She grinned, eyes sparkling. Were they tears or was that joy shining there? "Well, actually it's afternoon. But like Han says, anytime you wake up is technically morning."

His eyes felt groggy and his skin dry and stretched like he'd spent too many days on the Dunes. He followed the pale of her hand as she reached out and wiped a damp cloth over his eyes, washing the sleep away. She put it on a nightstand somewhere beyond his view. All sensations of cool water on his skin and fresh air in his lungs were periphery to staring at her in absolute wonder. "Better? You've been in the healing trance for days."

He just gaped for a moment, trying to put the memories together and failing miserably. His mouth shut with a click that had to be audible as he quashed the farmboyish reaction, chiding himself. Leia's own grin became impossibly wide as she saw the gesture. His hair was given a friendly ruffle and suddenly he was enfolded in petite but fragile arms, the perfumed fragrance of her hair another familiar presence that soothed his bruised heart.

But why is it bruised?

He frowned. She must have felt it; she brushed a hand over his damp forehead, little straggles of hair following her fingers like she would brush away the worry lines. She was still smiling but her gaze was more serious now. He frowned deeper, noticing for the first time the blunt cut of her hair framing her jaw. "Leia?"

Memories swarmed like rabid insects and he couldn't catch them all at once and force them to form a coherent whole. He brought his fingers up the shards of her hair and brushed the tip of his thumb over them. There was no avoiding the questioning look on his face.

"You don't remember?" She looked so pale and fragile, like but unlike the strong, resilient Princess he had left behind on…

Hadn't seen after Mothma had…

After the interrogation and…

And the snow and the fire and…

A gasp that was half sob, half horror hitched its way past his throat. His hands trembled as the memories stopped swirling and started mocking. He dropped the lock of hair. Before he could say anything, Leia embraced him again, engulfing him in her arms and comfort and the sweet, familiar presence of his best friend. His eyes squeezed against the need to cry and she rocked him gently, murmuring… something. Holding on to him, even tighter than he held on to her.

He'd done it. He'd gone over to the Darkside… he could barely even remember where the line had been or when he had crossed it. He remembered resisting. He remembered fighting. Somewhere that had switched from fighting Palpatine to fighting his father who was… was Lightside now? Could Anakin Skywalker have returned whilst Luke Skywalker was sinking? He couldn't qualify or quantify the feelings that went with the memories. Misery, loathing, self disgust; they were all present. But so was hope, longing, confusion… enough disparate feelings to fight a small war with. Which, in essence, was exactly what had happened.

Finally, long after he had stopped choking down his tears, she let him go, pressing him back down to the soft, silky touch of sheets on a wide bed. He blinked.

"Where are we?"

"Father's castle." It took a moment for that to register. She smiled weakly, coughed a little. "Seems like he had this all planned out. These were the quarters he had made for you when he found out about you and… well, you know the rest of that story."

"Oh." What was he supposed to say? "Yeah."

She coughed into the growing silence. "What… what do you remember?"

He tensed but resisted the urge to shiver. "Everything up to the explosion." He sucked in a deep breath, the images flowing freely now. Fighting, hurting, dying. "Leia, I'm so sorry. I couldn't stop it, I couldn't help it. It was like I was a spectator in my own body I- " he faltered. His eyes went wide with one particular memory. "Leia, that lightning. Are you…"

She smiled weakly. "I'm as confined to quarters as you are. But we're both going to be fine."

He narrowed his eyes, "Are you supposed to be resting somewhere?"

She rolled her eyes. "Did you always read me so easily?" she chuckled, and it was the most wonderful sound he'd heard in too many days. "Yes, but I'm fine. Really. And I wanted to be here when you woke up."

"It would have been confusing," he admitted. He had pulled himself up onto his elbows, but the muscles there were already trembling with exhaustion and he sank back into twilight-coloured sheets. "You should get back if you're supposed-"

"Don't you want me to fill in the details?" She smiled, "And besides, I'm here under the pretence of changing your bacta treatments."

"I don't think they'll buy that. A droid could manage that." He smiled, but felt it slip from his lips at the look on her face. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

She'd never been that good at lying to him. Her face was averted, hands working to peel bacta patches free from the sterile packaging. He grabbed one pale hand. "Leia?"

She let a slightly strangled sigh loose. "Luke… I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you onboard the medical frigate. I… I know I was aloof."

"You were worried about Han."

"That's not an excuse." Her hands trembled as she tightened her grip on him. "I… I was scared. When I found out who your father was…" She blew out a breath that stirred the ends of her new haircut. "It scared me. I'm sorry."

He swallowed. Hard. "It scared me, too."

To his surprise she nodded as if she truly understood. "If you don't want anything to do with me now, I'll understand." He felt like he'd torn the words from the mouth of a krayt dragon. He swallowed again around his misgivings as she looked at him with sad brown eyes, not knowing whether he could take rejection after… everything.

"Luke…"

"After all," he added, almost bitter but managing to work around that tone in is voice, "I've already shown quite a family resemblance to him. Well, not in appearance, but in character I'm doing pretty well. Maybe it's in the blood, or the genetics or… I don't know. Maybe all Skywalkers are supposed to fall badly like we did." How could she be with him now? How could she treat him, help him, comfort him, bear to touch him?

Her reaction was nothing he could have expected. She leaned forward and kissed him on his forehead. "Shut up before you damn us all, Luke."

His eyes flew up to her, the question on his lips. She shook her head, closed her eyes, a look of abject concentration furrowing he brow.

"Leia…?"

"Shssh… I can do this."

"Do what? You-"

//Luke, can you hear me?//

He nearly fell from the lush sheets Darth Vader had been considerate enough to provide for his wayward son. Stunned, he croaked, "How did you…?"

//In my mind, Luke. Can you talk like this?//

He blinked several times before answering, almost fearful of touching the Force and finding it… tainted. //Yes, but I'm the trained Jedi. I'm supposed to be able to do it; you're not. How can you…?//

She cracked a smile, despite the fact her eyes remained scrunched closed in concentration. //Not true. Close family members are supposed to be able to do this too.//

There was a heartbeat of complete silence whilst his shock rebounded off the walls of the large, luxurious bedroom. "Family?" he finally asked.

-- ..."Where are we?"…"Father's castle."… --

"'Father's' castle. As in our father's?"

She bit her lip as she opened her eyes, nodding. "Right on target as always, brother."

His mouth gaped open and smiled wide, absolute joy bouncing between them. Her eyes really were shining now, and it was both delight and tears of joy that made her smile glow. And then a disturbing memory decided to surface. One of another recuperation in a rather colder environment.

"… Leia. About the med bay on Hoth and our... ermm…" He realized suddenly he was blushing furiously, Leia's own cheeks going ruddy. She squirmed, just a little, and looked at him through lashes lowered to her red cheeks.

She coughed to try and cover the embarrassment. "I… well, I guess that was a bit of a mistake." She looked curiously whimsical then, "Although I don't regret it, not really."

"I know; you only kissed me to take a stab at Han."

She shook her head. "Well, yes… but also because you meant, mean, a lot to me." She shrugged, then covered the awkward silence. "Just don't tell Han you're the better kisser or I'll never hear the end of it."

He laughed, but it tore into sore ribs and he winced halfway through. Leia forcefully pushed him back to the sheets again. "Always nice to know," he murmured.

In the silence that followed, Leia pulled the sheets down to his waist and stripped the bacta bandages from his ribs. The bacta left a sticky film on his skin that she washed away with the damp cloth. Her fingers were cold against sleep-warmed skin. She was infinitely gentle and Luke just watched her for a moment, until someone had to break the silence before it became bloated.

"Han's here?" He frowned. The last he remembered was… Leia, looking despondent, broken and lost onboard the frigate.

"Yes."

It was strangely curbed and he sighed. "Leia, you asked me if I wanted you to fill in the details. I do." The earnestness broke her away from tending his ribs.

"All right." She wiped her hands, then laid down on the wide bed next to him, pillowing her head on his chest. It was an oddly trusting posture for someone who had witnessed him trying to hack their father to pieces and -

No. Don't think about that.

"Palpatine was influencing Mon Mothma from the start. Your… execution was a ruse to get you to Palpatine." When he shivered at violently bright images in his head she put her arm around his shoulders, over his chest, and hugged. "Vader… Anakin…" She stopped, frowned, then shrugged. "Father found me on Tatooine."

"Tatooine? What were you doing on Tatooine? What was he doing there?"

"I was… well, never mind. Vader came looking for me." He tensed, "It was fairly obvious something was wrong. He'd already… changed. Or, was already changing. We made a truce-"

"The Rebellion made a truce with Darth Vader?" His tone was openly incredulous.

"No…" She said after a long pause, "Just between us. I left the Rebellion."

He didn't know what to say. Finally, all he could ask was, "Why?"

"Why do you think?" Her voice still grieving, "I thought they'd murdered you. I couldn't stay with them!"

Princess Leia… leaving the Rebellion? For him? "Oh, Leia..." He still didn't know what to say.

Apparently, he didn't have to say anything. She gave him a squeeze and continued. "We got Han back from Jabba before coming after you." There was an apology in her eyes but he didn't comment on it.

The scent of soap and perfume was delicious and lulled him towards a sleep he fought, just to get the answers. "Mothma?"

"Dead." He tried to hear regret there but couldn't. "Along with most of the Rebellion."

"Why?" Did he really have to ask?

Leia seemed to take a breath that took all the air out the room. "Imperial vengeance." Nothing more had to be said. Luke tucked away that fact as a reminder that even if his father was back, he was far from the benevolent, benign man Luke might want to imagine. Except, it seemed, towards his children. Maybe they could work on that. He wasn't shocked but he was strangely grateful, an emotion he quashed quickly.

He closed his eyes as she relayed the rest of the story in strangely dispassionate tones. They were closed, but not so much out of a need for sleep as for giving a silent prayer to every deity he'd ever heard of that they had managed to make it to him on… "Where was I?"

"Coruscant. We're still on Coruscant."

He laughed into her hair. "Well, that's ironic. Three of the Empire's Most Wanted in its rotting heart." He shivered. "Although I suppose having your father as the second in command helps."

"First in Command, now," Leia whispered. "And Lando and Chewie are here too." Lando had stuck around? His estimation of the man was raised another notch. Not that his memory of the Administrator was very clear … it was fringed with memories of a painful fever.

"Leia…?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

There was more silence. He'd thought she was just thinking, but he caught the choked sobs, muffled by his skin. "Leia?"

She clutched him harder, then managed to speak around tears. "I'm sorry, it's all just hitting to me now that I can stop and think for a while. I thought you were dead." She sobbed. "I thought I'd lost you all, and everything I'd believed in went with it." Was she more upset by losing that, or from realizing she could be that close to someone? Princess Leia didn't like to be reliant on, or vulnerable to, many things or people.

But then, seeing her hair cut short around her shoulders, he realized maybe this wasn't Princess Leia anymore.

Leia, you should have tried living that nightmare if you thought knowing about it was bad. He caught the thought before it became telepathic. "It's okay," he murmured. "We got our happy ending."

Happy? Happy? … Pain, blinding pain, tears running down your cheeks from desolation and isolation. The Emperor's hands roaming over you, leering, smiling, teasing you towards a Dark precipice and -

He severed the thoughts violently, but shivered involuntarily.

"Happy?" Leia echoed his thoughts. "Luke, the Rebellion is gone. We've found out we're the children of our worst enemy and-"

"All right, it's a fairytale then. They always have something nasty to go with the happy ending. You know, the selfish Bantha herder gets eaten by the krayt dragon, or the Princess has to cut her hair to make a - oh, sorry," he mumbled.

"It's okay. But it has to have a moral."

"A moral?"

She chuckled, "Every story has to have a moral, otherwise there's no point telling it." She shrugged, pursed her lips. "Hmm… can't think of one for this particular fairytale."

He kissed the top of her head. "How about, 'Never kiss your brother. It only leads to trouble.'?"

"Sith, Luke, you're evil." She must have felt his muscles tighten painfully. "Oh, Luke… I'm sorry." She bit her lip. When he didn't answer her due to his heart going through explosive decompression, she hitched up onto her elbows. "Stars, I'm bad at this. Look, Luke, You've got to listen to me now because this is important."

"It's okay Leia. I know what I did." He sighed sadly. I'm tainted. I've started down the Dark path. It's not just dragging at my heels anymore, I've embraced it. He looked at her sadly, And I'm taking you down with me.

"I said listen, Luke." She had her sternest Rebel Leader look on, the one that instantly made him obey. "Give me your hand."

"Huh?"

She grinned wickedly and snatched his hand - his left hand - and held it at the wrist.

"Leia…"

She batted eyelids. "You trust me, don't you, brother?" He sighed wearily. "Now close your eyes."

He raised his eyebrows at that but obeyed hesitantly. She turned his hand over so the sensitive skin of the inside was under her fingers. He nearly snatched it back when he felt her begin to tickle the skin at his wrist. "Hey! What are you…"

"Does that tickle?"

"Yes!"

She laughed, "Good." He was going to complain, but clamped his mouth into a line. Trust her, right. "Now, I want you to tell me when I reach the joint at your elbow." He nodded and she started to trail her fingers lightly up his arm, a meandering path. Air conditioning hummed softly in the background and there was the smell of caff brewing that made his mouth water and-

"There."

"Perfect." Her voice was smiling. He opened his eyes.

"What was the point of that? I… hey, is that where I stopped you?" She nodded. Her fingers were resting a good two inches from the joint. "I thought you said I got it right."

"Who says you didn't?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" He frowned openly now. "That's not the right place."

"No? I only asked you to tell me where you thought the joint was. This," she tapped her fingers against painfully pale skin, "this is where your mind thinks the joint is. Are you going to disagree with your own mind?"

Was she being deliberately cryptic? The frown looked like it might become a permanent fixture. "You're telling me not to argue with my own mind. You want me to trust my instincts?"

"Right again, brother."

"But my instincts were wrong this time." And so many other times…

"No, they answered my request perfectly. They weren't right physically, but they gave a good indication of what your subconscious is thinking. It's not always easy to separate what you perceive physically," she ran her thumb along a bacta bandage on his arm, "from what's really going on in your head."

"I sense a lesson coming, sister…"

She shrugged. "Naturally. So, on instinct, what do you think? Are you still tainted by your time with Palpatine?"

"Leia…" He didn't know how to explain this. The air conditioning continued to humm away to an uneasy silence. "Leia, moving between the Darkside and the Lightside isn't that… simple. It's not a switch you flick, otherwise I think our father would have come back sooner. It's not even a conscious decision….oh." Wasn't this what she was trying to tell him? Not to trust conscious reasoning because it couldn't always tell you what was going on in your mind? He was lecturing her with her own lessons.

"Exactly," she smiled, "So what do your instincts tell you?"

He made the effort of breathing steadily, removing himself from conscious thought and -

"No."

"No?"

"No, I'm not on the Darkside." He heard the relief, the surprise in his own voice.

She let out a heavy breath, "I know. Father did a… probe whilst you were sleeping. He's certain, I just wanted to be sure you are too." She smiled, and he felt emotions wash over him and between them. He lay back for a moment, just revelling in the clean feeling of the Force flowing easily through him.

"Is there something else about my arm or have you become attached to it?" The smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

She raised both eyebrows. "You've been around Han too much, little brother." She lifted his hand into the light, bent it slightly back towards him, and removed her fingers. "You see that?"

He squinted, and there was a line where her fingers had been, a natural crease in his skin. "What is it?"

"That," she said, "is where the joint of your arm used to be, when you were a baby." She continued before he could question, "You see, your mind remembers even when you've changed physically."

He closed his eyes, "I get it."

"You do?"

"My mind remembers how I used to be, before… Palpatine. So there's no reason not to be that same person, if my mind knows how."

She smiled, kissed him on the forehead. "Nearly, but not quite, little brother. There's a few things worth taking with you from all this, I think."

"Like the moral of the fairytale?"

"You're going to make a great Jedi, Luke." She winked and smiled, warm and bright and lighting up the room. "Father was… proud of you. Or maybe stunned. What you did was stupid but brave." She wagged a finger at him, "You have a great power Luke. It made you prey to Palpatine and it'll make you prey again, but you have this gift and you're going to use it."

He mock saluted her, "Yes, Ma'am." Then he sobered, "So, father is… he's…"

"He's not Darth Vader anymore. I still can't believe I'm saying this, but arguing with myself was beginning to give me chronic migraines so I gave in and accepted it. Anakin Skywalker is back. It's not over yet but… it's not a journey you're going to have to take alone."

He let himself slump back to the pillows, almost content as long as he didn't let the memories swim back up within biting distance.

"I better finish these," she said. He looked up and saw her running her thumb along the edge of a bacta patch on the side of his left hand. She undid the bandage, put it aside and -

"When did I get that?" he murmured. The wound was ugly and open, it looked almost fresh but that felt… wrong. Something was tingling in the back of his mind; something was itching its way through his brain.

"Huh? I don't know, from the glass, maybe?"

He shook his head; that wasn't right. "No."

The memory was knocking for entry and he let it in. Palpatine watching as Luke tried to stop the flow of blood from his arm, and then the skin repairing when he touched it…

Luke looked wide-eyed. "He didn't heal it. He just repaired it." Somehow, the words seemed to echo around his skull. He looked owlishly at his sister, blue eyes clear and comprehending. "The Darkside doesn't heal. It can't." It was equivalent to respraying over a dent in hull plates; it didn't fix the problem, just masked it. Which meant… which meant that maybe 'Darth Vader' had never been able to heal himself because he was using the Darkside. Maybe it wasn't that it couldn't be fixed, but that he was doing it the wrong way…

"Luke, you're not making any sense." Leia was shaking him lightly, looking concerned.

"I know, I'm sorry." How could he explain it to her? "Get father."

"Are you all right? Do you need the medic?"

"I'm fine, just… get father, Leia."

"Luke…"

His gaze bore into her as she turned with a pinched expression of confusion and left the room. Luke pushed backed the silken sheets, sighing at the cool air brushing his skin under sleep trousers. Wincing only a little, he managed to persuade and bend his body into a kneeling meditative pose before the door opened and his father entered. His father, only dressed like Darth Vader. Luke could shed the dark clothing Palpatine had had him wear. His father could not.

Not yet, anyway.

He had crossed the room in three quick steps, Leia hanging back nervously before pacing forward restlessly. Snatches of memories came back to him from the past few days in his healing trance. That dark mask by his side, fingertips on his temple, gloved hands wiping a cloth over his forehead; strangely homely memories that were testament to the change from Darth Vader to Anakin Skywalker.

"Luke?" The word held greeting, relief, trepidation and annoyance in unequal amounts. He smiled as warmly as he could manage. "What are you doing?" Bass tones rumbled in admonishment, the order to get back in bed clear from the inclination of his mask and firm hands on his hips. He stomach performed churning loop-de-loops when he recognised it as Leia's expression of annoyance.

Luke started to open his mouth to explain what was going on, but realised that he couldn't form adequate words to explain it. Instead, he opened himself freely to the Force bond they had used infrequently. He let explanation flow between them, the indrawn gasp around respirator all he needed to hear to know his father understood. Suddenly, the import of what he wanted to try hit him, of what it would mean for Anakin Skywalker to shed the armour…. and what it would mean to him to have his long-dreamed-of father here.

"No."

He was broken from his dreaming by the sharp word. He frowned, "No?"

His father stalked forward, the black of his suit merging with the dark decoration of the huge room. Luke wanted to shiver, thinking of the circumstances under which Lord Vader had expected to see his son in this room.

"It's too much. You're not well and there's no reason to think it would work." His father stated, the voice of command.

"It will work. I know it will," he insisted. "I can heal you."

He hesitated, just a little. Leia was frowning in the background. "Later, perhaps. Not now." He took a step forward, purposeful. Luke knew the intent was to get him back down and in bed and, he had to admit, his ribs were beginning to ache fiercely.

"It has to be now," he struggled to explain, "It has to be. I think… maybe with all the healing energy you've used on me, it's enhanced my own. I don't know if it would work at any other time."

He could almost sense the frown. There wasn't any logical reasoning for what he was saying, it was just a gut feeling, but Luke had survived three years on the run by trusting gut feelings. Maybe his father acknowledged that, because he gave a frustrated sigh.

The Force was swelling around them, between them, bouncing back from father to son and growing. "I'm fine and I think we should do this now. It seems… right," he said to the unanswered question. "You should sit."

Anakin delayed a few seconds before nodding and sitting. This close… this close to Darth Vader it still made him want to shiver or bolt from the room. Old memories, old fears; not easily banished after three years running from the man who used to wear that armour. He quashed those feelings viciously, and reached out his hand.

"Do you trust me?" He saw a muscle in Leia's cheek twitch at that.

Anakin did not hesitate. "Trust you to look after yourself after you nearly threw your life away to kill Palpatine? Absolutely not." His voice softened, "Trust you to stubbornly follow your own feelings regardless? Yes." It was almost... affectionate.

"I'm usually right."

"That's the only reason I'm sitting here."

"Then let me do this…" Luke closed his eyes with a smile on his lips. The Force energy tangled around his fingers again, potent. It reached out gingerly under Luke's guidance, seeking the bond between them that had been proven to exist and opening it fully. He heard his father hold his breath, helpless against apprehension and... hope?

He reached beyond the link, healing energy engulfing the man in his mind's eye. It hit his father in a wall of blinding light, a sheet of energy. Then it coalesced to become more defined.

Heart. Throat. Head. Lungs.

They both gasped as the sheer Force of it ripped through him, Luke's hands trembling where they lay. Scar tissue, the hasty repair job of a broken body, became the fresh, healed tissue as alveoli smoothed and spread, weaving back together. Tattered heart muscle reformed, fibres spreading and connecting again. Then he directed it to his head, unused and withered neural tissue remembering how to work the lungs, the heart again. Connections sprang back, soothed and renewed.

Through that natural bond he felt what his father felt. His throat felt balmed, feelings of returning health bobbing in the Force like a cork in a river of the finest, richest wine.

Minutes, maybe hours, passed and when it dissipated, his head was sagging against his chest. He breathed unsteadily and toppled forwards dizzily. Strong, black clad arms caught him and lowered him to the bed. Everything swam, everything sang, suddenly the air conditioning was humming contentedly in time to his breathing.

"Luke?"

"Hmmm…?" He struggled around a stuffy, too-large tongue, exhausted. "Did it work…?"

"Luke, you healed me."

Weary beyond consciousness, he dropped like a dead weight towards sleep. "You're welcome." Sleep beckoned, and it was cool and welcome and there was no room for Darkness.