A/N: AU where Anakin never turned to the dark side and old Sheev-o was somehow defeated.

Merry Christmas! And Happy Holidays to those who may not celebrate Christmas. This is pure, self-indulgent fluff (with a dash of angst, because even when he's from a completely different universe, poor Luke just can't escape the trauma of Bespin). You have been warned. Seriously, though. Emphasis on the "self-indulgent."

Chapter Summary: Sometimes other realities bleed into one another.

Chapter 4: More than a Nightmare

The burning red blade flashed across his vision almost quicker than he could process, and he cried out in agony. He looked down in time to see the hilt of his lightsaber fall away, his hand still wrapped around it. A high pitch noise began ringing in his ears, and he stared numbly at the stump where his hand had been. He was so transfixed by the sight, he nearly missed the mechanical monster's next words.

"There is no escape. Don't make me destroy you."

He stumbled backward, toward the end of the gantry, trying to get away from the nightmare in front of him.

"Luke," the monster entreated, the machine-like voice rising in fevered passion, "you do not yet realize your importance. You have only begun to discover your power. Join me and I will complete your training. With our combined strength, we can end this destructive conflict and bring order to the galaxy!"

Anger, sharp and hot, temporarily overcame the fear and numbness.

"I'll never join you!" he snarled savagely.

"If you only knew the power of the dark side." The behemoth paused then continued, dark anticipation oozing from him. "Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father."

"He told me enough," he growled. "He told me you killed him."

The Force lashed around him. Something was coming. The world was shifting and he was in danger of falling over the edge, in more than just the physical sense. He braced himself, but nothing could have prepared him for what came next.

"No, I am your father."

He screamed. He was trapped in the inky well of darkness, unable to breathe. It was like freezing and burning at the same time.

"Luke!"

He couldn't move. He couldn't see. He could do nothing but scream and scream, praying for someone to save him.

"Wake up! Luke!"

He wanted to wake up. This had to be some horrible nightmare. It couldn't be true. It was impossible!

"Young one, please!"

Something shook him, hard, and his eyes snapped open. He gasped and sputtered, heaving in deep breaths of air. Luke was utterly disoriented. He was lying on something soft, and large hands gripped his shoulders.

The lights were flicked on, and Luke frantically took in his surroundings. He was in his bedroom on Coruscant. His podracing and starship posters were in their rightful places on the walls, and all his normal knicknacks were where they were supposed to be. The datapads he'd been reading were scattered across his desk, along with hand drawn blueprints and homework assignments.

"Luke?" Luke's wandering eyes were drawn to his dad, who was sitting on the edge of the bed. His dad caressed his face, gently wiping away tears Luke hadn't even realized were there. His blue eyes were dark with concern, and Luke could feel his dad's lingering panic across their bond. "Are you alright?"

"I…" An image of the monstrous Sith flashed through his mind, and he swore he could hear the sound of a respirator. He shuddered. "I don't know."

His dad ran a hand through Luke's hair, trying to soothe him. Normally, he would have protested the action. He was fifteen—too old to be treated like a child. In this case, however, he welcomed it. Luke couldn't stop trembling, unable to lose this feeling of anxiety.

"You were screaming," his dad murmured. Luke winced. He was glad Leia and his mom were away on their annual Mother-Daughter Vacation. He would have hated to wake them up. "Was it a nightmare?"

"I think so." He remembered vividly the feeling of his hand being sliced off. Luke fought down the nausea creeping up his throat. "It felt so real, though."

"What happened?"

"I am your father."

Luke shivered, the unbidden words branded in his mind.

He looked at his dad. Blue eyes. Dark blond hair. Worry lines creasing his forehead as he gazed back at his son. He was nothing like the Sith in his nightmare. There was no way Anakin Skywalker could or would ever turn into that. Sure, he had a temper. So did Luke. And Leia. Even his mom occasionally let her anger get the better of her. But his dad had never hurt him—any of them. He never would. His dad was brave. He helped people. He was a Jedi Master. The day his dad turned into a Sith would be the day Luke gave up his Jedi training and started up moisture farming on some desert planet like Tatooine. It wasn't happening.

"I don't want to talk about it."

His dad narrowed his eyes. "Luke…"

"No, Father!"

Eyebrows rose in surprise. "Since when do you call me 'Father?'"

Luke shook his head, suddenly feeling dizzy. Why did I call him that? "I meant Dad."

"Are you sure you're alright, Luke?" A hand pressed against his forehead.

"I'm fine." He moved his head back, dislodging the hand. "It was just a nightmare."

A shadow passed over his dad's face. "Sometimes nightmares are more than just nightmares, Luke."

"If that was supposed to be reassuring, it's not working."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to scare you."

"Can we talk about this in the morning?"

"Luke, I really think—"

"Please, Dad! I don't want to think about it right now."

"Fine," he conceded. "But we will be discussing this, young one."

"I promise I'll talk about it all you want tomorrow." Luke knew he was going to regret that later.

His dad squeezed his shoulder and rose. "I'll let you get back to sleep."

He was almost to the door when Luke felt a flare of panic.

"Wait!" His dad turned, confusion on his face. Luke blushed and looked down, finding his blanket easier to look at. He was too old for this, but… "Can you...can you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

He smiled softly and nodded, making his way back to the bed. Luke scooted over to make room, and his dad settled on top of the covers, leaning his back against the headboard. With a wave of the Force, his dad switched the lights off.

"Thanks," Luke muttered, still embarrassed. He hadn't asked his dad to stay with him for years.

"I didn't mind when you were eight, and I don't mind now." His dad nudged him. "Now go to sleep."

Luke closed his eyes and burrowed further under the blankets, trying to quiet his mind. He was drifting off, almost asleep…

"I am your father."

He flinched and squeezed his eyes shut tighter. He couldn't get that stupid Sith out of his head. It wasn't even real. Luke shouldn't be acting like this. Why couldn't he just forget about it? The cold dread wouldn't leave him. It clung to him like a suffocating shroud. Deciding to abandon his pride completely, Luke pressed close to his dad. He breathed in the smell of him and curled his fingers in the hem of his dad's sleep shirt. He let his presence wash over him, willing it to drown out the fear and keep the images from the nightmare at bay.

An arm wrapped around him and pulled him closer to his dad's side.

"You're okay." He felt his dad briefly press his lips to the top of his head. His thumb rubbed circles against Luke's shoulder. "I'm here. I would never let anyone hurt you, Luke. Never."

...he stared numbly at the stump where his hand had been. He was so transfixed by the sight, he nearly missed the mechanical monster's next words.

"There is no escape. Don't make me destroy you."

"I know, Dad."