Author's Note: I'm posting chapter ten one day earlier because I won't be home until next Monday and I wouldn't be able to upload it otherwise.
Thank you all. I'll answer all your wonderful reviews as soon as I can.
The Corellian took in Leia and Vader at a glance, but it was clear that he only had eyes for the fragile young man in the bed. The instant he saw him, his features drew tight and hard, and he paled like a ghost. Leia had tried to warn them but nothing, nothing could have possibly prepared him for the actual sight... for the sheer physical devastation...
He approached the bed noiselessly and looked down at the youth he considered the little brother he never had. His eyes reddened and his chin quivered in overwhelming emotion.
"Luke..." he moaned, "oh, my... oh, my..."
His trembling hand reached out and settled on the colourless forehead. He caressed it with untold compassion, reassured by the heat Luke radiated. For a minute, he'd been terrified he would be cold. Deadly cold.
Leia walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it encouragingly.
"Doctor Vilk just told us that the infection is receding. He's recovering, Han. Don't listen to your eyes."
Han nodded in silence, biting his lips to hold back the avalanche of emotions churning inside him. He stood there, stroking the wide forehead, unwilling and unable to stop.
The thin eyelids fluttered and with some effort, the ocean blue eyes opened. They skittered around the room and rested on the newcomer.
"Han?" he murmured, struggling to focus.
"Yeah, kid. It's me," a forced tremulous smile appeared on the handsome face. "It's good to see you."
"Are you... are you really here?" Luke tried to raise his head from the pillow, incredulous.
"You bet," Han's smile widened. "And also Chewie and Lando. They're waiting outside."
A slow, happy grin illuminated the cadaverous features, as the young man convinced himself that he wasn't dreaming.
"But how can it be?" he asked his best friend wonderingly.
Han gave him a quirky smile.
"It's a long story," he looked up at Vader, standing a few metres away, and his expression sobered. "But it seems your Lordship here was the mastermind in the shadows."
Luke's eyes opened wider in surprise and he turned his head heavily toward his father.
"Did you do it?" he asked him in awe.
Vader shrugged matter-of-factly.
The glassy eyes misted over. A shaky, unsteady hand reached out.
"Come here," Luke requested feebly.
And Vader covered the distance separating them in four long strides.
The young man grasped his father's hand and squeezed it as hard as he could.
"Thank you," the tears spilled, uncontrollable. "Thank you so much!" he tried to intertwine their fingers but the muscles in his hand wouldn't cooperate.
Vader held the fumbling hand steady and interlaced his fingers with his child's. Bending over the supine form, he hastily wiped the tears away.
"You're welcome," he replied in a patronizing tone of voice that earned a soft attempt at laughter from the boy. That and the mind-tickle that only Luke could feel.
The glowing blue eyes moved all over the masked face earnestly, as if they couldn't have enough of looking at it.
"Father..." Nothing in Luke's life had tasted sweeter than that word. He savoured it in his mouth like a blessing. Like an impossible dream come true.
A sharp pain, sharper than the finest dagger sinking into his flesh, sliced through Vader's heart.
How could a word so small have such power? It was ripping him open. It was reshaping him, redefining him, shining the brightest light on his destiny and giving him a new purpose. A reason to be.
Those otherworldly, ethereal eyes. They looked at him with such rapture, with such... reverence. How could anyone, let alone Luke, look at him like that?
Those eyes encompassed a universe of completeness and belonging, they were a mirror that didn't hurt to look into, for the image they reflected was one of total acceptance and self-worth. The look in those eyes was heaven incarnated.
He felt he had been waiting his whole life to see himself reflected in those eyes.
He had been waiting his whole life to hear that one word. From Luke's lips and only his.
'I'll do anything for you, my son. I'll shield you with my body, with my blood, with my soul. I'll make of this galaxy a safer place for you, so you never have to fear for your life again. Just to see you looking at me like that, and never again in disgust, horror or disappointment. The agony you suffered at my hands will not be in vain. I'll spend the rest of my life honouring your sacrifice, trying to be worthy of you and your faith in me. This is my oath to you, angel of my heart.'
Luke's eyes roamed Vader's mask tirelessly, softer than the softest caress. And for the first time since Bespin, the Sith Lord felt him touch the Force - weakly, falteringly. And the Force responded by wrapping itself around him like a protective blanket, invigorating, exhilarating.
Even now, Luke reached out to him uncertainly, like a little boy holding out his hand in supplication. The clean innocence, the raw, piercing need he projected, cut through Vader's defenses, penetrating deep, too deep.
Recoiling instinctively in self-preservation, Vader drew back physically as well. He stood straight with a harsh, deep breath, startling the young man in the bed.
Quickly composing himself, Vader squeezed the bony fingers entwined with his own one last time and released them. Then, he laid the unresisting hand back on the bed and looked up.
Solo stared at him as if he had grown another head. He could have knocked him down with the proverbial feather. On her part, the Princess looked halfway between self-conscious and disenchanted, as if she had seen what had really happened there.
And somehow, Vader knew she had.
Avoiding her eyes, he concentrated again on his child. Luke had withdrawn into himself, pulling himself together as best as he could.
'This must never happen again. You just promised you'd never hurt him, and you already have. Keep a calculated distance from him if you have to, but never, NEVER do that again! Never, ever again!'
Reaching out, Vader clasped the now fisted hand in his again and caressed the backs of his child's fingers soothingly.
"Try to not exert yourself. It's too much, too soon."
The timid, reserved eyes observed him gravely, and Vader knew his son had gotten the hidden meaning behind his words. He nodded slowly and stepped back, allowing his fingertips to caress Luke's as they parted.
The young man took a deep breath and blinked to clear his mind. Looking away from his father reluctantly, he turned his eyes to his best friend and utter joy surfaced in them.
"I'm so glad to see you!" he breathed. His eyes sparkled with a childlike glee that had been absent for far too long.
The Corellian squeezed the white-clad shoulder.
"Unfortunately, kid, this time you only look strong enough to pull the ears off a Kegan mosquito."
Helpless laughter burst from the broken chest, that soon turned into a fit of coughing.
"Finish me off once and for all, will you?" he wheezed out in between coughs.
"Naah," Han shook his head. "I'll leave that to Chewie," he ruffled the blond hair gently.
Luke smiled up at him in delight.
"Well!" Han exclaimed exuberantly. "I'll tell the guys to come in now. You need all the rest you can get and all this excitement is counterproductive."
"Never," Luke replied with a sigh of utter contentment.
Smiling back at the happy countenance, Han stroked the sunken cheek.
"Get well soon, you hear me?" he ordered with mock-severity.
"I promise," Luke nodded, looking at him in the eyes.
Han nodded back and brought his hand down. He turned to leave, but when he saw Vader standing there, tall, imposing... something in him snapped. Straightening up to his full height that still was twenty centimetres shorter than the Sith Lord, he strode up to him.
He glared at his mortal enemy fearlessly, defiantly, memories flooding his mind. Memories of Vader striking down Ben Kenobi and Luke's heartbreaking cry of horror; Vader, almost blowing up Luke's X-Wing in the trench of the Death Star; Vader, staring impassively, like a true psychopath, while he was being tortured just for the sake of being tortured in Cloud City; Vader, giving the order for him to be put in carbonite... Each and every one of his memories of Vader were memories of murder and destruction; merciless acts of violence and unspeakable cruelty.
But the most unthinkable thing of all was... that his real name was Anakin Skywalker.
Anakin Skywalker. The Hero With No Fear.
Even as a ten year old kid growing up the way he had, the name of Anakin Skywalker was known to him. An inspirational figure to look up to. Brave, noble, compassionate. An upright, down to earth young man who'd seen too much of the ugliness that lurked in the darkest reaches of the human heart, and still fought for what was just, protecting the innocent and doing the impossible to keep them safe in the middle of a galactic war.
And in the end, it all had come down to... this.
Turning against everything he'd ever upheld. Corrupt to the marrow. Evil to the core.
Mutilating his own child, desecrating his body and his spirit and driving him to this state of absolute consumption...
He wanted to launch himself at Vader's throat and snuff the life out of him.
And yet... What he'd just seen...
Vader, holding Luke's hand in his own, interlacing their fingers and wiping his tears away. Teasing him and caressing him.
Vader, having him freed from Jabba's clutches; having him, Chewie and Lando put in a shuttle, and escaping the Empire.
Leia's story made even less sense. Her desperate transmission informing Vader of Luke's imminent death, and Vader leaving everything behind to come to his son's side.
And what was that nonsense about Leia being strong in the Force too? And her dream of Luke as a little boy crying in the desert, and his loving father showing up to take him with him – the dream that had persuaded her to risk everything on the slim chance that...?
From his point of view, all this was pure insanity. How could anyone trust Vader's black soul and still believe he wouldn't bring about their undoing?
'So, you got your reward and you're just leaving then?'
'That's right, yeah. I got some old debts I got to pay off with this stuff. Even if I didn't, you don't think I'd be fool enough to stick around here, do you? Why don't you come with us? You're pretty good in a fight. I could use you.'
'Come on! Why don't you take a look around? You know what's about to happen, what they're up against. They could use a good pilot like you. You're turning your back on them.'
'What good's a reward if you ain't around to use it? Besides, attacking that battle station ain't my idea of courage. It's more like suicide.'
'All right. Well, take care of yourself, Han. I guess that's what you're best at, isn't it?'
The sudden flash of that old memory made him pause. He blinked.
He'd also let Luke down, he'd also been selfish and left; but the kid had already planted the seed that would bring him back to help.
'I knew you'd come back! I just knew it!'
Luke had always been a good judge of character, the best he'd ever known. And seeing him look at Vader a few minutes ago... So openly, so trustingly, baring his heart to his father with no fear, with no reservations. Letting him look into his own naked soul, in all his vulnerability...
Was Luke seeing something beneath that mask that none of them could see?
He studied the dark form trying to read his body language, trying to figure him out and make a decision.
His right hand reached out with no conscious thought on his part.
Vader looked down at the outstretched hand in utter disbelief. Was this cynical space pirate ready to accept him, and all for his son's sake? The man he'd tortured and had encased in carbonite less than three months ago?
Luke's friends were truly exceptional.
His own hand moved and the two enemies saluted each other formally.
"Don't you ever dare to hurt him again," the young man hissed through clenched teeth, "or I'll drive that fancy lightsaber of yours through your heart."
"I promise on my soul," was Vader's dignified response to the threat.
The Corellian's eyes turned to slits.
"Assuming you have it," he grunted viciously.
Vader almost barked a laugh at that.
"Oh, I do have it, Solo," he countered with a great deal of self-mocking irony. "Cursed, unredeemable, doomed. But I do have it."
The shock of hearing the Sith Lord speak of himself in those terms, accepting the inevitable consequences of his crimes not only to the others, but also to himself, was nothing short of bone-chilling.
Vader had always been aware of the price he'd paid for his life choices. He'd always known.
And that blunt admission alone revealed that Anakin Skywalker was still in there - that something was changing in that perfect sheen of darkness.
Slapping on his flawless sabacc face, Han raised a cynical eyebrow and turned about.
"Han," Luke's weak voice called.
The young man promptly came to his friend's bedside.
Luke stared at him with a pained expression, but also one of absolute conviction.
"Even within the blackest soul lies a spark of Light, if it has known love once," he uttered in a broken voice. "There is always hope," his look intensified. "Always."
Han's gaze softened and he put his hand on the thin forearm, patting it softly. With his back safely turned to Vader, he gave the boy his distinctive crooked grin, that was immediately followed by a wink and a fast nod.
Luke's eyes narrowed, and he bit his lower lip to hide the slow smile that began to spread across his face.
"I'll tell Lando and Chewie to not stay long," Han hurried to cover for them. "See you soon, kid."
"Thank you," Luke nodded back at him.
Reaching out and squeezing Leia's hand, the Corellian left the room deliberately.
The Princess made the most of the seconds she had before Lando and the Wookiee walked in by fluffing Luke's pillow and combing through his hair maternally.
"Do you think you'll be able to handle the two of them?" she asked him.
"Single-handedly," was Luke's lame attempt at a joke that made Leia cringe inside nonetheless. She couldn't forget the literal reality of Luke's words.
Luke seemed to realize then the bad taste joke he'd unknowingly made, and waved his only hand to dismiss it.
"It's all right," he whispered to her.
Leia made a sad grimace and nodded at him half-heartedly.
The door opened and Lando entered the room, followed closely by the lanky, towering form of Chewbacca.
If Lando was taken aback by Luke's emaciated look, he gave no outward sign of it. He went straight for his bed with a kindly smile on his face.
"Luke," he greeted him.
"Hey," Luke greeted back, smiling softly at his newest friend. "I'm glad to see you, Lando."
"I'm glad to see you too," Lando squeezed the thin wrist oh-so-lightly, as if afraid it would break. "You really have to stop giving us these health scares, you know. We've had our share of close calls for the next few decades."
"I agree," Luke conceded with a sigh.
Chewie moved closer then and reached out his massive paw. He caressed Luke's hair and scalp with a tenderness that cried out how much he'd come to care about the sick cub in the bed. He mewled softly, soothingly, wishing him all the best and a speedy recovery.
"Thank you, Chewie," Luke smiled up at the gentle giant, moving his head into the caressing paw. "We're all together at last."
Chewie nodded and let go with great reluctance. His eyes turned to Vader and he bared his fangs in a purely visceral reaction. Just like his friends, he had a problem reconciling the Dark Lord's heinous actions in the past with his most recent good deeds.
But he had a deciding advantage over his human friends, even Luke. His Wookiee senses, that he planned to use on Vader to their full extent.
Slowly, leisurely, he walked up to him, enjoying the leverage his greater height provided, and relishing the moment when the Sith Lord had to look up at him.
Just his stance said a lot. There was no trace of aggression or hostility in him. No trace of the fury and blind hate he'd oozed through every corner of his being on Bespin. Even his scent – for there was a very distinct scent beneath all the leather and electronic machinery – was somewhat muskier, with a bitter undercurrent. And beneath it all, buried but still spilling over through the cracks in his emotional armour...
If the muscles around his mouth had allowed him to do it, the Wookiee would have smiled from ear to ear.
Oh, yes, Lord Vader. You may be hiding it from your son, from the Princess, from Han and Lando, even from yourself; but there's no deceiving a Wookiee's sense of smell.
Chewie stared down at the impassive Imperial, eating up the moment and Vader's ignorance. He let out a knowing snicker and turned about, feeling the Dark Lord's disconcerted eyes on his back.
Taking cue from the Wookiee's attitude and fast nod, Lando stepped forward and faced Vader. He'd thankfully known him for a brief albeit very intense time. He'd seen him at his worst – or maybe at his best, to get the full scope of all the evil he was capable of - and he was just as flabbergasted by the notion that there was a smidgeon of compassion left in that raging beast.
"I don't know what's going on inside you," he began dispassionately, "but since everyone seems to agree that whatever it is, it's something good, then it's enough for me. And I guess..." he worried at his lips, "I guess I owe you a debt of gratitude for rescuing Han on Tatooine," he threw a concerned glance at Luke. "This young man's the only thing that matters, and if having you here is helping him... Anyway, be welcome," he nodded to himself, as if coming to terms with what he'd just said. He held Vader's gaze for a minute more before he walked away.
Leia stood where she was by Luke's bedside, revelling in the Sith Lord's bewilderment that she could feel even from there. It felt good to have the moral upper hand, but it felt even better to remind someone like Vader of the incredible strength you got from commanding people's loyalty through honour and trust, not terror.
And maybe... Maybe it would also remind Vader of another life, a better life, many years ago.
That thought suddenly reminded her of the debt she'd owed for too many days. She looked down at Luke, always loath to leave his side.
Luke met her eyes, as if he had read her thoughts.
"Go," he smiled up at her. "I'll be fine. And say 'hello' to Dr. Senna from me."
How had he known? How did he always seem to know? Was it his innate goodness? Through the Force? If it was the Force, maybe it would be interesting to learn more about it.
She nodded at him quietly and caressed his cheek one last time. She'd just started for the door when a weak but unfaltering hand brushed hers. She whipped her head back to him.
Luke's eyes bored into hers with a fervour unknown to her.
"Thank you for what you've done," he whispered to her brokenly.
Leia clasped the warm hand in hers and squeezed it.
"Always," she whispered back with the same fervour. She looked up at the others. "Take care of him," she entreated before she left.
Vader came to his son's bedside. The child stared up at him with his big trusting eyes. So sweet, so beautiful.
"You should sleep," he urged the boy. "Staying awake is tiring for you."
"Will you stay with me?"
Force, what's with those words that only twisted that blasted dagger deeper?
A black gloved hand laid down on a scrawny shoulder.
"If you want me to."
Luke nodded guardedly, looking down.
Vader sat on the chair next to his son's bed, never moving his hand away.
Lando and Chewie exchanged a swift look of amazement. Chewie nodded at his friend and headed for the door. Yes, Han had been right in everything he'd told them just before they entered. But he didn't know to what extent.
It was time to tell him.
Feeling like a third wheel, Lando took a seat in a chair a few metres away and studied the scene before him.
Luke's eyes were riveted on his father, full of wonder. Vader's mask returned his child's stare as if it was only the two of them in the room. He brought his hand over and put it on the broad forehead. His thumb caressed the space between the eyebrows.
"Close your eyes," he said.
Luke bit his lip, wanting to do as his father asked, and yet unable to take his eyes off him.
Vader then put his palm over the loving eyes and brushed his son's eyelids closed.
"I said close your eyes," he insisted.
The cracked lips smiled bashfully and relaxed. Vader moved his hand away and nodded when he saw that Luke had obeyed. Not wanting to resist the temptation, he stroked down the pale cheek unhurriedly. As if by magic, the boy was asleep when his fingertips reached the cleft in his chin.
Vader dropped his hand, deep in thought, feeling the dagger twist again.
'You have your mother's chin. The same shape...' he closed his eyes in remembrance. 'I loved to hold her chin in my hand and get lost in her eyes... She always saw the good in me, she always thought the best of me, despite my all-too-obvious, glaring faults. She always made me feel good about myself, about who and what I was.' His eyes opened with effort. 'She gave me peace, the peace I have sought all my life.'
His forefinger slid over the dry lips, engrossed in his memories.
'When I lost her, I lost everything that was good about me. Anakin Skywalker truly died with her,' his mourning eyes focused on the sleeping face. 'And now, when you look at me... I see the same non-judgmental eyes, the same unconditional acceptance... I see the same purity that made me feel adequate and worthy,' his eyes misted involuntarily with the deep longing that rose within him. 'I want to live in your heart forever. Untouched and safe in your memory.' He looked up and held back a sigh. 'Why? Why do you make it seem so easy? Even your friends... Force, how will I be able to give you up? To part from you? When you heal me, you define me... When I belong at your side?'
His eyes roamed the smooth features, imprinting every small detail of the treasured face in his mind.
'My sweet angel!' he exclaimed, almost like a prayer. 'Don't hate me for leaving you again. For the first time in my life, I have a purpose. For the first time, I know what must be done. I am the only one who can do it and I will - for you, for the life we could have together and I took away from us.' His mouth curved into the ghost of a smile. 'My little miracle; my saviour... My master.'
The door slid open with a loud hiss, startling the shaken Sith Lord out of his musings. Turning his head, he saw Dr. Vilk walking in, followed by Solo and Chewbacca. The good doctor's eyes looked at his patient with satisfaction.
"I'm glad to see him asleep. I feared so many visits would disturb him," he bent down and began his examination, as careful as ever.
Meanwhile, Han, Lando and Chewie stood at the foot of the bed, a bit apart, waiting patiently for the man to do his job.
Vilk checked the monitors of the machines that kept Luke's organs working. Out of the blue he gave a start of surprise, mouthing "YES!" energetically.
His exuberant gesture of joy had the other four males in the room staring at each other in a circle of confusion. They pretty much guessed that meant good news, and they couldn't wait to know what it was exactly.
Vilk raised his eyes to Vader first.
"All his organs are working again," he announced with a big grin. "Kidneys, liver... everything! We can disconnect the machines now."
The change in the atmosphere in the room was immediate and palpable. Like an electric rush that shook them all.
But the most remarkable thing of all was the difference it made when the machines were disconnected. A low hum no one really paid attention to gradually ceased to be heard, releasing the last remnants of the oppressive feeling that hung in the air.
"What now, doctor?" Vader asked for them all.
"His fever's dropped another degree," Vilk said, "so we'll keep him on antipyretics and antibiotics of broad spectrum to help him along the way. When he's spending more time awake – in one day or two, I reckon – we'll start him on saline solution," his gaze swept all the eyes settled on him. "His prognosis is very promising," he smiled. "Now, I suggest you all get some sleep and let him rest. It'll do you good." He turned and left with an earnest nod.
The small group looked at each other and tentative, joyful smiles appeared on their faces.
"I will stay with him," Vader stated.
"Wait a minute," Han raised his hand in protest, taking a step forward. "Leia told us you've stayed with him since the moment you arrived. There's more of us now and we can take turns watching over him. I see no reason for you to stay night after night."
"I'm his..." Vader caught himself in time. Yes, he was the boy's father, but these people had loved and taken care of his child from day one, whereas all he'd ever done...
Still, his time with Luke would be limited, and the thought of not spending every minute of every day with him was unbearable.
He changed his approach.
"I'm... asking you to let me stay with him."
The three friends were ready for anything coming from the Sith Lord, except for a polite request. Vader's words disarmed them.
They looked at each other, dumbfounded. Despite the vocoder modulating the mechanical voice, they all could hear the need in it.
So human.
Too human.
Finally, the Corellian spoke for them all.
"Leia will be here any minute. Let her decide."
Silence befell the room, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. It was more like a timeout during which each of them made his own considerations.
At some point, the door opened and Leia made her entrance. She looked relieved and at peace with herself. She quickly noticed the quiet expectancy they all exuded and looked around.
"Dr. Vilk just told me about Luke," she confirmed with a lively smile.
Han smiled back at her.
"Who's staying with Luke tonight?" he asked without preamble.
Leia's eyes automatically turned to Vader in a reaction that spoke volumes.
"He's better prepared to deal with anything that might arise, whether physically or... emotionally," she defended her standpoint, refraining herself from using the word 'spiritually.' She didn't think they'd quite understand what she meant by that. Blast it, she wasn't sure *she* knew what that meant! Still, she tried. "They're joined in the Force, and he'll be able to tell the slightest disturbance in Luke's condition."
Han tilted his head to one side curiously.
"And just how do you know this?" he asked without a hint of confrontation.
Vader found his openness and willingness to understand refreshing. Indeed, there was much more about this man than met the eye.
Leia walked up to the young man in the bed and stroked his cheekbone.
"I... I can't find the words to explain it. I just know that Luke will never be safer than with him at his side," she cast a perplexed look at Vader, realizing how insane her words had to sound to her friends, but still needing to say them because it was the absolute truth as she felt it.
Han cast a questioning look at Lando and Chewie and ended up shrugging with a long sigh.
"Very well," he conceded, turning his eyes to the woman he loved, "let him stay."
Leia nodded at him with a grateful smile and then turned her head to Vader.
"Dr. Senna would like to visit Luke at our convenience," she began. "Since she doesn't know you're here, would you mind waiting in another room?" she asked.
"Not at all," Vader shook his head. It was a testimony to his son's inherent goodness to make all those he met love him.
Han, Lando and Chewie exchanged another astonished look. The smooth rapport between Leia and the Dark Lord had to be seen to be believed. Chewie nodded to both his friends and himself. To him, it was plain as day that their present civility hadn't been achieved without a tremendous struggle, and a lot of pain.
One by one, Luke's friends filed past his bed and patted him goodnight, not wanting to risk waking him. When he was almost to the door, Han turned around.
"Are you going to bed too?" he asked Leia.
The Princess took a deep breath and cast another fast look at Vader.
"Yes," she confirmed. "Luke will be fine and besides..." she smiled, looking down and reaching for the warm hand lying on the bed, "he'd drag me to bed by the ear if he was awake." Her eyes raised to Vader's, deferring to him for the very first time. "Take care of him," she entreated him.
Speechless, Vader nodded, knowing better than anyone what that small gesture had cost her and how much it meant.
"You have my word," he replied thoughtfully, holding her gaze, hoping she would feel his sincerity.
And apparently she did, because she gave him the ghost of a smile. Then, turning again, she accompanied her friends out of the room.
TO BE CONTINUED...
