"In the end, family is family. And family comes first."

The Possibility of Redemption

Luke slowly blinked his eyes open, feeling dull and heavy in both body and mind. There was an uncomfortable pressure on both his stomach and the back of his legs, and odd but quick flashes of black in front of his eyes that he failed to understand. It was almost as if he were on a boat, rocking back and forth and it was making his head spin.

Between the flashes of black was dirt and metal and it took him several long seconds to piece together that he was most likely upside down and being carried over someone's shoulder as they were moving.

It further took the sound of a respirator for it to slowly dawn on him that the flashes of black were Vader's suit and cape.

The knowledge didn't startle him as much as it probably should have to realize what type of situation he was in but he was too tired to try and figure out why that was.

Instead, there was an odd sort of acceptance to that fact though he was uncertain how any of this came to be. His memory leading up to this moment was blank. It was almost as if there were a weighted blanket on his mind, whispering calm assurance safe no danger rest and as he recognized that, he felt the almost irresistible pull of sleep try to take him under once again.

Uncertain of the wisdom of following that suggestion, Luke pushed it away from him and was startled by the effort it took to do so. It hurt, he realized, feeling an intense spike of pain in his head and temples like someone had take a spike and shoved it in his brain. He might have cried except he was concentrating on not hyperventilating or passing out.

When the worst of the pain passed, leaving only a dull ache in his head, Luke cautiously (so, so cautiously) stretched his senses outwards, probing around but unsure of what he was looking for. He instantly bumped into contact with the vast, almost incomprehensible darkness of his fathers own Force presence, getting the immediate impression that Vader had been distracted before his father's awareness shifted at his touch, like a Greater Krayt dragon turning in the desert sand; utterly impossible to ignore, awe inspiring and horrifying all at once – and focused his attention on him.

There was anger (it would have been odd if there wasn't, though it didn't seem to be directed at Luke), as well as a surprising amount of concern for his well-being. Maybe it was how physically close they were but their bond seemed wide open and more intense then it usually was. Since Bespin, Luke was always aware of the bright thread of light which connected his mind to Vader, but he'd deliberately ignored it, refusing to acknowledge the truth and being stubbornly silent whenever his father tried to reach out. He could sense Vader when they were in roughly the same system and could sense his emotions and mood if he focused long enough. But it had never been anything like this.

For some reason, there were no doors or barriers or shields between them now. Everything was wide open and because of that Luke was suddenly, perfectly aware, all the way down to the marrow in his bones, that Darth Vader loved him. It was not an emotion deliberately or perhaps even knowingly being projected to him, but it was there nonetheless.

Vader's concern, whatever the cause, was genuine and for the first time, Luke knew that he meant far more to his father than simply a potential apprentice and source of power.

Luke mattered.

Mattered so much that if it came down to the Empire or even the whole kriffing galaxy and Luke, Vader would put Luke first every time.

It stunned him stupid, that one of the most powerful and dangerous people in existence cared so much about him. Luke had always felt like a burden – on his aunt and uncle for having to raise him in such harsh circumstances. He didn't doubt that they'd loved him, but he was never their son and very much aware as he'd gotten older that taking him in had been a sacrifice for them and not an easy one. He had Ben only long enough to lose him and then to learn that much of what Ben told him was to manipulate him into a weapon to kill both his own father and the emperor. Being used like that with no regard for what it would do to him had left a hollow feeling in his heart. Even in the Rebellion, he was the Jedi and their last hope and there was a loneliness that came with that. Even with his friends, he was more often a pawn between Han and Leia's chaotic relationship to the point where he couldn't always tell quite where he fit in.

So, Vader's love and want of and for him was an odd revelation to have but not an unwelcome one. It felt right in the same way the Force felt right and for that reason alone, he felt no need to question it. It might have been more difficult to accept if he was unable to return the emotion but he thought it safe to say that he loved his father just as much.

He was scared of him, absolutely. Vader was a Sith Lord and had done atrocious things in his time, even if Luke was certain that there was a reason and a very important one at that. One, that if the Force was to be believed, warranted compassion and a possibility of redemption – a possibility that he alone could bring about. He would cling to that hope but having hope didn't mean that he wasn't fearful of the current dangerous and tempting but ultimately wrong plans Vader still had for their future.

It only meant that he knew he had to try because no one else would.

And maybe it was a sign of the Force that he was capable of putting so much aside and extending such an offer. He wasn't certain how the Core worlds worked and how relationships were valued there but Luke was very much a product of Tatooine.

And while the planet certainly had a tendency to breed cruelty, the planet itself cruel, unmerciful and unforgiving, it also had a way of making family terribly and desperately important. Families were lost, separated, and torn apart on Tatooine on a regular basis. One learned to value their loved ones, even if only in memory and if no memory was available, then they valued the very idea of them.

You didn't question it if the Desert gave them back.

Luke couldn't hate Darth Vader even if he tried. Not now that he knew the truth.

Rest, little one.

His father's Force voice rumbled suddenly, and it was like a thundering sandstorm in the desert, loud and everywhere but also familiar and comforting. It was almost as if this had happened several times before. An odd sensation ran through his entire body and his aches and pains dulled so quickly that it almost instantly sent him to sleep once again.

What happened? He managed to ask, confused by the pain he was in and unwilling to not be aware of what was going on. His father was moving swiftly and with purpose and turning his head to try and get a better glimpse of his surroundings did not clue him in on where they were, only that they seemed to be alone.

Vader did not seem perturbed by his unwillingness to go to sleep or upset that Luke brushed the sleep suggestion away at all. It didn't hurt like it had last time, though he had a feeling it would have if his father hadn't been actively shielding him from further pain.

You were injured, Luke. Was the simple, elusive response – and ah, there was the anger again briefly surging forward and turning his father's already dark presence even blacker. Something had happened and Vader was pissed – angry, outraged, furious that someone or anyone had dared to hurt his son and his anger was so powerful it was almost alive, the emotions raging and churning in the force, being molded and manipulated into something that could literally be used.

It churned Luke's stomach to be so close to the dark side, to feel and see it so clearly in his minds eye. He'd dueled with Vader several times and sensed the dark side from him but only from a distance, it seemed. He hadn't yet been strong in his use of the force the last few times they'd met but he had at least known it was there, could feel it, but never anything like this. He could only assume it was because his mind and their bond was wide open and it was so much different. The inky blackness and rage and suffering and hatred was so repulsive and grotesque and sad that it made him want to throw up and cry… and yet… there was something there… something alluring in all that wrongness that made him want to keep looking.

And not only look but to reach out to touch it, even knowing that he shouldn't – like a child that had been told to not touch the hot stove because they'd get burnt but who did it anyways because was it really as hot as everyone said it was?

It was tempting and he couldn't place the reason why it was so damn tempting and he didn't even notice that he'd stretched his force presence out for a closer look, not quite touching because that wasn't what he wanted and yet….

Vader noticed and the rage suddenly evaporated into nothing and his inky black seductive presence became simply dark once again. A sense of unease and renewed concern trickled through Vader and it felt like he was swiftly pulling the dark side out of Luke's mental reach.

Don't touch that, Luke. Vader reprimanded, his mental voice chiding – it felt like he'd shook a finger at Luke. If he'd been more in his right mind, he probably would have been offended. If he'd been in his right mind, he would have wondered why his father wasn't allowing him to interact with it at all, since his desire was to turn him to the dark side, and was instead actively keeping it out of his reach.

As it was, the moment it was out of reach, Luke was nothing except instantly relieved but the image of that black swirling chasms lingered in his mind for seconds longer than it probably should have. Master Yoda would be disappointed, he thought faintly and with a sense of guilt.

Sorry. Luke hummed sleepily, closing his eyes because it was too dizzying to keep them open from his position.

Uneasiness gone, Vader sent a clear sense of amusement at him and for some reason, it made Luke feel warm and happy inside.

He wasn't going to stay awake much longer – he couldn't. The steady stream of calm safe rest and peaceful assurance from the Force that he wasn't in any danger was sucking out any fight he might have had in him. And while it may have been childish of him, he didn't really want to know what had happened just yet.

He didn't want to know what had happened to him to make his father so very angry. He didn't want to know why he'd lowered his shields and let his father into his mind, because if nothing else, he knew Vader himself hadn't broken them down. He'd have felt the fragmented shards of that painful event in his mind and instead his shields were simply open in invitation. He didn't want to know how badly he was hurt and who had done this to him because he had a vague sense that it was Very Not Good.

Instead, Luke reached out into the Force again and carefully intertwined his force presence with his fathers, content with the knowledge that, at least for now, he was perfectly safe where he was and that Vader – his family – would ensure he would receive the medical attention that he needed. His father responded in kind, holding him close and with the silent promise to keep all dangers at bay.

Still. He wanted to say something before he drifted off again and everything was different. It was nagging at him and it seemed important to say.

Father?

Yes, my son?

Luke licked his lips, tasting blood and suddenly aware that he was very thirsty.

"…I resent being held like this." He whispered hoarsely.

Vader paused in his steps for the first time, something not unlike surprise passing between them. After a long moment, Vader began to huff several times, a quiet staticky noise coming from the vocoder and Luke realized that his father was laughing.

Warmth and affection flooded his mind and Luke couldn't help but smile and join in the amusement, reveling in the attention. It felt like it had been a long time since he'd had some kind of positive attention directed his way. A really, really long time.

Vader resumed walking at his hurried but purposeful pace.

Your complaint has been noted. Was the dry response, tinged with lingering amusement and light. The real, honest light of the man once known as the Hero With No Fear. If that light were ever set free entirely, it would be something spectacular to behold. Now go to sleep, little one. We will have time to talk later.

With nothing left to say and too tired for anything else, this time Luke let the sleep suggestion drag him under and he knew nothing more.

A/N That line, "I resent being held like this" is responsible for this entire damn thing and I regret nothing.

Darth!Dad to the rescue. 😊

Hope you enjoyed it and please let me know what you think!