Disclaimer: Oh, if I could be George Lucas and own Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader…that would be nice. But, alas, I am not and I do not own him…them…yeah. I also am not Shinedown and do not own the song "Burning Bright"…though I can sing it!
A/N: This is a songfic that takes place shortly after Revenge of the Sith so it will include spoilers for the movie. If you haven't seen it yet, I strongly suggest you turn back…now. Reviews are greatly appreciated!
Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. This is the monotony of life for me now. Ever since the incident on Mustafar, I've had to live with the constant sound of my own life-force come in heavy rasps. And I have only one man to blame for all of my troubles.
Obi-Wan Kenobi.
It is his fault I have more mechanical parts than flesh, it is his fault I lost everything that was ever important to me, it is his fault I am encased in this dark armor, this living hell. I cannot even breathe naturally without my mask, else I suffocate on the same oxygen Kenobi breathes. He does not deserve to breathe, not if I can't do it as well.
I feel like there is no need for conversation
Some questions are better left without a reason
And I would rather reveal myself than my situation
Now and then I consider my hesitation
I have isolated myself in my quarters to dwell on that man. And also myself. He betrayed me, there is no need to discuss the finer points of his actions. I understand he wanted many things for himself, but why did he have to make me suffer that night? Why did he have to rub it in my face that he had the high ground? Why did he lie to my angel?
No need to think of that now. Only to plot revenge for what he did to me. I am Darth Vader, the Dark Lord of the Sith, and what happened on that Hell must stay on that Hell. The past doesn't matter anymore. Yet, I can't get Padmé out of my head…the pain she went through in my nightmare. The light in my life fades away.
The more the light shines through me
I pretend to close my eyes
The more the dark consumes me
I pretend I'm burning, burning bright
However, along with her pain, in my vision I see her angelic smile, I can hear her clear laugh as if it is right beside me, I can even feel the brush of her lips on my charred mouth. These memories crush my heart more than her cries of anguish. I close my eyes against the hurt and embrace the dark side as it envelopes me in its welcoming arms. Finally, something to ease my nerves.
Still, I am reminded of the night when my whole life changed. I can vaguely feel the flames licking against my skin, melting it away. That night, I burned bright. But it wasn't anything compared to my hatred for the man who brought me to that position. It was merely a flicker of light in my hands while my feelings toward Kenobi were a wildfire devouring our friendship.
I wonder if the things I did were just to be different
To spare myself of the constant shame of my existence
And I would surely redeem myself in my desperation
Here and now I'll express my situation
What was the real reason for the death of the Younglings? Did I do it out of loyalty to my true master? Or was I just proving a point? Perhaps I took their lives to prove that I could do more than the Jedi ever allowed me to do. To prove that the dark side accepted my strengths as something good, rather than feelings to be downplayed.
So by committing murder, I redeemed myself in the eyes of my new master. I showed him that I wasn't afraid to give in to my anger. I have always been desperate to let others know of my powers and I finally found a friend who understands that. My whole life I have searched for another with whom I can discuss my feelings and I have found him. But what of Padmé? Was she only a pawn in my game of power?
The more the light shines through me
I pretend to close eyes
The more the dark consumes me
I pretend I'm burning bright
Once again, her love blinds me. She even told me I was a good person before I silenced her with my anger. Before I killed her. I tear my mind away from that last reunion and, through the Force, rip a control panel off of the wall and send it flying through the air. I need distraction from the image of her lying on the ground, one hand cradling her swollen belly.
My child. That thought burns through me more than that of Kenobi. I've killed not only the love of my life but the fruit of our passion. I killed those who I swore I would protect Kenobi wasn't the only one to betray me.
I betrayed myself.
The more the light shines through me
I pretend to close my eyes
The more the dark consumes me
I pretend I'm burning
Through my hatred, I can see in my mind's eye the laughing child whose life I extinguished. A perfect mixture of an angel's beauty and a devil's playfulness. An image of my child living in a peaceful world with no regrets of yesterday and no worries of tomorrow. Padmé laughs along with the child; the sound of it is music to my ears. Everything is perfect in my fantasy.
It is only a fantasy, something that can't change the present. I'm still a survivor of Hell and my family is still dead because of my decisions. I fall to my knees, my breath quickening. If I had any tears left, they would be falling continuously from my eyes, clouding my vision and fogging my visor.
My heart is on fire again, but this time it's because of deepening sadness instead of fueling hatred.
There's nothing ever wrong, but nothing's ever right
Such a cruel contradiction
I know I cross the lines, it's not easy to define
I'm born to indecision
There's always something new, some path I'm supposed to choose
With no particular rhyme or reason
I'm experiencing so much emotional torture that I contemplate removing my mask and ending my life at this moment, running out of breath. Suffocating on the same breath that Kenobi breathes. Of course, the moment I truly want death, I can't have it because my enemy would have the high ground again. No matter what, I can't feel peace in my life anymore.
Not that I really ever have. Throughout my life, I've come to decisions that were almost impossible to make. Like when I left my mother to become a Jedi, when I fell in love with Padmé, when I found out Padmé was pregnant…
The Jedi way told me that I couldn't have any attachments, yet they contradicted themselves by making sure Knights took on Padawan learners. They say that kind of attachment isn't wrong, yet when I tried to have the same feelings for Padmé, they shunned me. Just remembering this angers me further and I call the busted control panel to me.
As it flies into my outstretched hand, I think of other ways the Jedi turned against me. If I ever felt that I had righted myself in their eyes, they simply turn away and give me a new assignment, a different one from the last. And the worst part is that they never explained the point of it. I lived in darkness, even while the light of the Force surrounded me.
The more the light shines through me
I pretend to close my eyes
The more the dark consumes me
I pretend I'm burning bright
Now that I have the control panel in my hand, I feel some of its power channeling through me. Combining all the negative feelings in my life, I crush the panel in my so-called "iron fist" and hurl the crumpled mess against the wall with such a force that it embeds itself in the exact place it hit.
The destruction doesn't end there. Even as all my happy memories flood over me, I drown them with reminders of the horrors I committed. Suddenly, I hear hundreds of voices speak in my mind all at once, a incessant chattering that grows louder and louder with each passing moment. I know all the voices; they are people I've met and known.
People I've hurt in one way or another.
The more the light shines through me
I pretend to close my eyes
The more the dark consumes me
I pretend I'm burning
Striding over to another wall, I swing my arm and punch a hole clear through it. This act silences the voices.
I feel like there is no need for conversation
I don't need to speak about my past anymore, for it isn't mine. Anakin Skywalker is dead. He is burning bright.
--Fin--