Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.—Martin Luther King Jr.

Love [luhv]

A profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person

Hate [heyt]

Intense hostility and aversion usually deriving from fear, anger

Chapter Thirteen

There are a few moments that truly define a person's life. Sometimes it's the biggest decisions, who you marry, who you love. Sometimes it's the smallest choice, turn left or right, stay or go. Sometimes it's the smallest, most insignificant moments that can be pulled from a memory with startling clarity.

As the thunderstorm that was Anakin Skywalker exploded through the door of the Chancellor's office, with all the rage and hatred pouring out of his eyes and soul, he knew that this would be his moment.

Yellow-seeped eyes searched the room, and stopped when they found the figure standing behind the desk. Gone was the figure that Anakin had come to know as a mentor and friend. Standing in his place was a seeping, bleeding, hemorrhaging rent in the Force. The small side of Anakin still anchored in the light shivered and shuddered in the presence of this aberration.

Coming to the center of the room, Anakin stopped.

"You," the word slipped out from between clenched teeth. "How could it be you?"

The aberration before him laughed, if the horrible cackling sound issuing from his throat could be called that.

"Oh Anakin, always so naive! It's a wonder you lasted as long as you have." His face contorted. Pacing slowly, the Sith wound his way toward the young Jedi. "Join me, and we can rule the galaxy together!"

A horrible sound tore from Anakin's throat, a cross between a laugh and a groan. He felt his world shifting beneath him. "Join you?" His heart seemed to clench in his chest, his face ice cold. "I'm going to kill you."

With matching snarls, the two men hurtled toward each other. Each blow flew fast and strong, blurring streaks of red and blue. The smell of ozone and the harsh sound of the two weapons clashing echoed throughout the room.

Anakin could feel the anger coursing through his veins, a pulsing power unlike anything he ever felt. Each movement he made, every block and thrust and parry, found its foundation in its supremacy. And as he pulled from this well of darkness, he realized it was nothing new. Those seeping depths through which he walked, the twisted pit of despair inside him had always been there, just covered over with years of training and Jedi platitudes. The sudden realization of how deeply he truly was tainted might have shocked him at any other time, but all he could focus on was his enemy in front of him. This man had ruined his life, taken away one of the only people in the entire galaxy that he cared about. The Dark within him built and built until he no longer knew if he controlled it or it controlled him.

"Yes," hissed Sidious, his eyes matching Anakin's, "Don't fight it. Let it flow through you. Feel the hate inside."

The grating voice induced Anakin to simply fight harder. He was deaf to anything but his own internal turmoil, the Dark within pushing back the fading light. Once, he had thought he would never have to worry about it going out. Never have to worry, because he had someone to anchor him to it. But now that light, once so bright, once so secure, was now buffeting like a candle in a Kamino storm.

The lightsabers moved in an endless blur.

Powerful as Anakin burned in the Force, experience won out over intensity. In a split second, a tiniest misstep, and Anakin felt a boot in his chest and sharp tug of the Force ripping the lightsaber from his hand. He stumbled, crashing awkwardly to the ground, the lightsaber bouncing uselessly out of sight.

The blood red blade thrummed before his throat.

"Oh Anakin," Sidious purred. "Did you really thing you could defeat me?" The tendril of anger at the very audacity of that thought hummed through his being. Anakin could feel it as the Sith let it course through him, fueling his rage.

Anakin glared at him, his back pressed against the floor. Pure hate froze his tongue and stole his words.

"Join me, Anakin" The Sith rumbled, his voice a low, seductive purr. "The Jedi are weak, their way is one of frailty and subjugation. They have only been holding you back."

The words stung Anakin with a barb of truth. The power he felt duling Palpatine was unlike anything he had felt before. He had questioned the Jedi's reticence in the past, their cautious restraint and their sanctimonious demeanor irked Anakin. The Dark called to Anakin, it had called to him for as long as he remembered. No matter the training, no matter the hesitancy against it, he could feel its power, and feel the fear the other Jedi felt.

Sidious smirked, the lightsaber shifting imperceptibly away from Anakin's throat. "Anakin, the Jedi fear what you have, the power within you. Think about what you could do with that power, who you could save!"

Padmé. Cold fear shivered down his spine. She was all he had left, her and their child. The Jedi...he owed them nothing, not now.

But would she understand, could she love him if he fell? Picturing her now, soft curls, fiery passion, her intense love, for both him and the Republic they served...doubt began to creep into his mind. Padmé, who fought for peace. Padmé, who's purity and conviction burned through her every action. Padmé, who was good.

"Anakin, with this power, you can do so much more." The voice before him seemed to slither into his brain, his thoughts unable to gather purchase. "The Jedi never cared for you," Sidious spit maliciously, his face evil in the flickering light. "They only ever used you."

Clarity suddenly materialized into icy awareness. How could this monster before him talk of manipulation? Thousands upon thousands of beings no longer lived because of this man's tyrannical lust for power. Day after day he had seen homes destroyed, planets ruined, lives taken before their time. Night after night he fell asleep to the sound of his men repeating the names of those lost in the Remembrance.

Time after time he found himself staring into the empty space next to him where Obi-Wan used to stand.

"Used me?" He exhaled shakily, his fingers sinking into the thick carpet as a scoff fell from his lips. "You're the one who used me, used us all! The Jedi, the clones, the Senate. The Jedi aren't to blame, it's you."

Something glinted in Sidious' eye. "If you won't join me, then you are my enemy."

Thrusting out his chin, Anakin matched his stare. "That," he said, "is something I am proud to be."

Desperately he flung out his hand, his fingers straining for the solid feeling of cold metal and alloy. Responding to his call like an age old lover, the hilt slipped into his hand the very second the blood red blade flew toward his heart. He shifted imperceptibly to the right, the red blade intended for his heart meeting his blue blade with a glancing blow.

No inch of the room remained unscathed as the two men continued their battle for dominance. The external destruction mirrored the internal as both men pulled on the Dark Side to fuel their rage. It was not the age-old battle between good and bad. This was a fight between two warring hatreds. A war of evils. The light that had once burned in Anakin had faded behind walls of pain and rage, his Force signature so tainted now with dark that each combatant could hardly be distinguished from the other.

Where before experience won over strength, in this battle of endurance, youth won over age. Anakin could see his opponent tiring, his blows fueled less by strength and more by pure willpower. He waited, swinging his own blows harder and faster, watching for a mistake.

Transparisteel shattered as the two men fought by the enormous windows overlooking the darkening Coruscant cityscape. Wind whipped around the two men, whirling and slashing robes in a frenzy that matched their blows. At last the Sith found himself backed against the open air, a bottomless pit of dark city behind him. Anakin pounced on his chance. Pressing his advantage, striking out with all his might, the tip of his blade found the hilt of his enemy's. Even as the broken hilt began it's fall, Anakin's boot found the Sith Lord's chest, knocking him hard against the metal window framing.

Stomping down, he ground his heel into the small, delicate bones of the Sith's saber hand. The sound of breaking bone seemed to echo through the room, even as Sidious grit his teeth and refused to make a sound.

Chest heaving with more than just exertion, Anakin held his blade at the Sith's throat, a stunning reversal of just moments before. It was time. He would end this. Palpatine deserved to die for his crimes.

"Yes," Sidious' face no longer wore the grandfatherly visage he so often presented to the world. His true nature emerged and with it the ravages of hate and evil coiled their way across his countenance. "Do it. Do it, and you are just like me."

The words seemed to leach into his mind and stab a dagger into his heart. Anakin froze. They echoed around and through his mind.

Just like him? Like the one who took everything? The world seemed to lose focus for a moment, his mind lost in confusion. What was he doing?

Anakin.

His heart stopped. Not now, not now. He seemed to hear something, but how could he hear a voice that wasn't there?

A wash of emotions suddenly surged through his being. He staggered, bottled-up memories echoed through his mind.

Promise me you'll stay in the light.

Promise me.

Promise…

I promise.

"I promised," the words seemed to issue from the very depths of his soul.

His master had died with his name on his lips and the hope of the prophecy in his heart. Oh, the weight of that duty pulled him down. He couldn't join the Sith, he couldn't be just like them. Not now, not after what Obi-Wan did for him. It was his destiny, to bring balance, to serve justice for those who died, to honor those he loved.

"What am I doing?" he gasped, his voice a tangle of torment.

He could see how close he was coming, standing on the edge of a precipice, one foot already in midair. To take that step would negate all that made him Anakin Skywalker: the warmth of his mother, the teachings of his master, the love of his wife. To succumb to the enticing dark the seething beast of revenge would in the end destroy them all.

This cycle of revenge, he needed to end it. He would never stop if he continued this way. Justice—justice offered closure, an end to the circuitous devouring depths toward which he spiraled.

But forgiveness, mercy, these were things he didn't want to understand and could not offer. To understand them meant to recognize his failure in giving them, to make a conscious choice to withhold them. How could he forgive, how could he offer mercy to one who took everything?

But the opposites . . . revenge and cruelty, what did they offer? At best they offered a miscarriage of justice. And at worse, they offered destruction for his soul. For to obtain revenge, the damage would not just be done to the Sith, but to himself as well. They were not the Jedi way . . . but even further, they would not be what Obi-Wan wanted.

He stared in confusion down at the flickering weapon in his hands, Obi-Wan's blade, a symbol of hope or devastation. He recalled the promises he made; to Obi-Wan, to Padmé. He had a duty to them, but it was more than that. It was love that bound them to him, that bound him to the light. His love for his wife and their unborn child: her passion, her beauty, her smile, her commitment to justice. And his love for his master, the memories he had of him: his goodness, his fierce compassion, his laugh, his devotion to the Jedi, but mostly his devotion to Anakin.

To fall would be simple, easy, an escape from this painful reality. But to fall would not merely destroy him, it would destroy them all.

But to stay in the light, oh, the weight of responsibility, of commitment, of promises made. It meant pain, sorrow, following a legacy of strength he didn't know if he could live up to.

But it also meant love. The love of his wife. The love of his unborn child. The memory of his friend and master. Those memories, treasured deep in his heart now, would become tarnished glass if he fell, a foul taste in his mouth, a twisted reflection of the past.

"Do it," Sidious hissed again from his position on the ground. "Keep me alive and I will destroy you and everything you love. Kill me in revenge and you prove you belong to the Dark Side. Either way, I win."

Starting as if waking up from a horrible dream, Anakin finally turned his eyes to the man in front of his burning lightsaber. "You're wrong." An inexplicable calm and peace flooded over him as he straightened his shoulders. "I finally understand now," he breathed an incredulous laugh, his voice curiously introspective. He could almost kick himself for how blatantly obvious it was.

"Killing out of hate is wrong. Understanding the line between justice and revenge: that is what distinguishes Jedi and the Sith," This, this is what the Jedi, Obi-Wan, Padme, had been trying to tell him this all along. All his life he had fought and ignored them, but in light of his own personal betrayal it suddenly made sense.

For once, the Sith seemed to be struck dumb. "Justice?" he snarled. "After everything that has happened to you? After how you have been treated by the Jedi? After your Master being killed? How is that what you want?" His anger warred with bafflement. "What is stronger than hate?"

The feeling of calm within Anakin gave way slightly to pity. This man before him…what had his life been like to turn him into the monster he was?

"What is stronger than hate?" he returned, "Loyalty, hope, love…" His voice broke on the last word, but he straightened his shoulders. "Things you would never understand."

Turning away to grasp his commlink almost killed him, the dragon within clambered to be released. But as he brought the comm up to his lips, keying in Master Windu's code, the weight he had been bearing on his shoulders seemed to tumble off.

He had been trying to hold the scales of life and death in his hands, decide who lived and who died. His self-appointed role of judge, jury and executioner couldn't help but take its toll as he staggered under its weight. But now—now he understood. It was never his role in the first place. And that is what his wife meant. It's not about killing or saving them, it's about saving yourself.

"Skywalker?" Mace Windu's hologram flickered in Anakin's hand. "Do you have something to report?"

Opening his mouth to respond, Anakin never got a chance to say what he was going to say.

"No!" His face a mask of pure hatred, Sidious snarled as he hurled lighting from the fingers of his working hand. Anakin grunted as he caught the lightning with Obi-Wan's lightsaber. The commlink skittered from his hand as he put his full weight into holding back the pulsating electrical charge millimeters from his heart.

The vicious attack was unlike anything Anakin had experienced before. It seemed to have a life of its own, the crackling static matching the noise issuing from Sidious' mouth.

Gritting his teeth, Anakin sank to his knees against the onslaught. The electricity surged into the lightsaber. It seemed to grow brighter and brighter, the two flickering blues blending together. The heat built up in the air, and Anakin bit back a groan as the hilt began to smolder in his hands.

He knew the lightsaber couldn't last much longer. And he couldn't. . . he knew his fate was sealed if the licking tongues of heat hit his heart. But his energy was dwindling, he had already spent all he had . . . and he couldn't use the Dark, not now. He could not let himself become what he destroyed.

He refused.

Impossibly, he reached down into himself, through the pits of darkness and wells of fear. He went deeper than he had ever gone, straining every fiber of his being, searching, searching . . .

There. That glowing ember, the tiny flame of all that was good and whole and right. He had always drowned it with anger, hidden it away under mountains of fear and bitterness, locked it away behind doors of pride.

But as the first hungry tendrils of electricity danced across his skin, he reached out and set it free.

A cry exploded from within him, the exertion seeming to tear his soul from his body. He thought he knew power, but this was different. The all-consuming, uncontrollable feeling of the Dark was replaced with something so much more. It wasn't a controlling power, it was harmony, a complete unity within him, a pure synthesis ofhimself and the Force.

Throwing up his hands, he caught the lightning in his palms, stopping it from its intended destination.

Shock blazoned equally across the faces of Anakin and Sidious.

The light seemed to flow into him, a bright, burning aura in the Force. The crackling energy seemed to float in Anakin's hands, cradled there as if it were a child. The Sith cried out, turning his face away from the blazing unity of the Living Force and Anakin before him.

The light grew, gathering intensity. The moment seemed to halt, a stand off between an unstoppable force and an immovable object. But the newfound power in Anakin grew just like the light in his hand. Sound seemed to stop, and then Anakin hurtled the lightning back toward the Sith. The light flew straight and true, the immense power exploding on impact. It propelled Sidious into the air, slamming his body forcefully into the wall. A small groan escaped his lips as his broken body slid to the floor.

The Sith tried to shuffle away as Anakin paced slowly up to him. Pausing, he leaned down and scooped Obi-Wan's lightsaber off the floor from where it had fallen.

"You...you can't kill me," he was hissing now, all vestiges of elegant politician gone. "The Dark Side is in you, boy." The Sith's lips were pulled back from his teeth, his visage a leering skull. "You'll never be free."

"Maybe not, but the galaxy will be free from you."

A flick of his wrist, and the Sith's head toppled from his shoulders. The sudden shift in the Force left Anakin reeling. He blinked. The world felt as if a vale had been lifted off, as if grey clouds that had covered the sun had finally broken.

It was done.

The lightsaber dropped from his numb fingers as his knees collapsed beneath him. He had done it. He had killed the Sith Lord, he had won the war and fulfilled his destiny. He had brought balance to the Force.

He waited for something, a feeling, anything to be different.

But he was alone.

Then, a breath of light, memories of copper hair and wry laughter. A fluttering sensation and the slightest trace of a presence oh so familiar.

Well done, my Padawan.

Feeling as though he would choke, throat filling and lungs faltering, Anakin gasped as he held out his trembling hands. He was too raw, his emotions too close, and the hope too too good to be true. He wanted to say everything and nothing, all his thoughts and feelings shimmering in the air.

I thought you left me, instead the desperate accusation flew into the air.

Suddenly the feeling seemed to surround him, envelop him, weave around and through him. Love so profound and deep penetrated his soul, filling the broken cracks within him.

Oh Anakin. Never. I will always be with you.

The ache grew in his throat and heart until a tear slipped down his cheek.

He wasn't alone.

Thank you to all who have kept up with this story and commented and favorited! You are the best. There will be an epilogue, (which is half written, I promise!) so don't quite go away.