Undone
Regrets collect like old friends
Here to relive your darkest moments
I can see no way, I can see no way
And all of the ghouls come out to play
Every demon wants his pound of flesh
But I like to keep some things to myself
I like to keep my issues drawn
It's always darkest before the dawn
Vader entered his chamber, sitting on his adjustable chair. The droids began to piece apart his suit, taking his mechanical legs and arms off, along with his breathing device, mask and helmet.
Now a feeble body, he rested back as the chair reclined for him to lie flat, hoping to get some shut eye without the nightmares that have haunted him for over 10 years. 10 years since that fateful night. A night he couldn't forget – he had the emotional and physical scars to remind him everyday.
He used to look back on that night and be overcome with regret and guilt – but those feelings became too burdensome after a while. Now, he was so immersed in the dark side that he was rather disconnected from Anakin's emotions. He remembered what Anakin went through but it didn't resonate the way it once did. Now he often just felt angry at Anakin's failures, and continued to punish him for it by refusing to relate to him, connect to him, or let him breathe, pushing him further and further to the back of his mind. He never wanted to be him again. And looking back now, a decade later, he was so far from the man he used to be.
Vader's eyes flew open in an instant once the back of the chair rose, lifting him up. He waited for the droids to attach his limbs but nothing seemed to be operating. Glancing down, his eyes widened at the sight of himself. He lifted his left arm as though he never lost it, studying his calloused fingers, and then glancing at the other mechanical hand that replaced the one he lost to Count Dooku.
He reached up to place his hands on his face – he couldn't feel any scars, apart from the one across his right eye – he felt like himself again.
He then wiggled his toes, looking down at his legs. Placing his hands on either side of himself to sit better, straightening his back, he exhaled heavily, feeling a full breath emerge from his chest with no difficulty. His eyes curious, quizzical yet pleasantly surprised.
Resting back on the chair, he brushed his fringe away from his eyes – only to realize his hair returned. If that wasn't enough to riddle him with confusion, he then spotted a vision before him.
Padme.
She stood there, sporting a white satin gown that hugged her curves, the hem of her dress effortlessly flowing like ocean waves.
She slowly headed towards him. He blinked a couple of times, trying to work it out – his imagination hasn't been this vivid in a while.
But the closer she got, the more real it felt. A rush of warmth radiated off of her and onto him as she crawled onto his lap, lifting up her dress to rest on her thighs.
His hand coasted up her silky thigh. He could feel the softness of her skin at the tip of his fingers like it was only yesterday that he touched her.
He was just about to utter her name but she placed a finger over his mouth. Leaning in, her lips met his and both of them breathed out deeply, savoring the taste of one another, engulfed in the pleasure that only they shared.
His arms wrapped around her waist, possessively holding onto her, fearing it would all go away. His breathing intensified as his mouth remained plastered onto hers. A soft moan escaped her lips, melting him. It had been so long since he felt her breath on his lips, her soulful voice purring in his ear, her body perfectly pressed up against his – it had been so long since she was his.
Her right hand trailed down his virile chest, making her way down to his swelling appendage. He could feel her fingers delicately fondle his member, making him squirm under the elasticity of her hands. Finally, she pushed him inside her.
Heavy inhalations left his mouth followed by a dazed groan as he was submerged in her wet essence – lost in the euphoric sensation of being inside her, watching her writhing hips above him as she mounted him. His eyes idolizing her in this moment, caught up in this sexual eruption of their passion. He remembered it all – her touch as her fingers ran through his hair, her warmth as he placed his hands on her hips, driving himself deeper into her, and her sensuality as her lips brushed against his.
His hand found its way into her hair, loving the feel of his fingers entwined in her voluminous curls, knowing that it weakened her, making her putty in his hands.
Untangling her soft hair strands around his finger, his hand then slid down to her back, holding her in place.
Raising his mechanical hand, his fingers then drew across her clavicle up to her dainty neck, wrapping around it.
Suddenly, she started to choke. His fingers were tightening around her neck. He tried to loosen his grip but he couldn't.
He started to panic, watching her suffocate, unable to force his metal hand off of her – like he had no control over it.
Vader woke up in a fright. His chair still reclined, his body returned to its fragile state. Panting as he remembered the vivid dream that turned into yet another one of his nightmares. He hated that his most painful memories still managed to haunt him.
After a moment's reflection, his groggy voice ordered the droids to assemble his suit.
Taul, a low-ranking imperial employee, carefully stood guarding a door at the Inquisitors' Headquarters. He managed to remain discreet as others roamed about the Fortress Inquisitorius.
He then heard the whispers of passersby, declaring that Lord Vader was in today. Giving a subtle but firm knock on the door, alerting those inside.
But no answer.
Nudging the door with his elbow now in an effort to come across more assertive. "Dax!" He called, through gritted teeth.
But he wasn't quick enough as the dark figure now towered over him. Taul swallowed a gulp, as the Sith Lord cast a shadow over him.
Vader observed the young man quivering in his boots – scoffing at Taul's obvious feelings of inferiority. He felt such disdain for those he assumed were weak men.
"Move." Vader hissed, sensing that the man was hiding something, and Taul obliged after a moment's hesitation.
The door swung open, and Vader's eyes searched the room. A storm trooper helmet and two pairs of shoes haphazardly thrown on the floor.
He glanced up, his eyes settling on the imperial nurse lying on the mattress on the floor with a soldier slumped over her. The couple were frozen, now at the mercy of the evil Supreme Commander – the one who everyone hoped to avoid, especially in a compromising position such as this one.
Trying to catch their breaths with their eyes wide in shock, both were too afraid to move. Dax didn't want to expose his partner's intimate parts but he was also terrified to get up and be met with Vader's wrath.
Vader took a step towards them, lightly kicking the mattress with his boot as their heads lifted, peering up at the dark Lord with absolute fear.
"Sleeping on the job?" Vader sneered with his modulated, hoarse voice.
He shook his head, irritated. This was what he had to face – these lowlives. Careless with their bodies and who they gave them to. Robbing themselves of true intimacy for a romp in a dark, empty unit. Taking for granted the opportunities for a real connection and the freedom they had with their agile bodies. They simply disgust me.
With a twist of his wrist, Vader snapped Dax's neck using the force. Kimm, the nurse, was shrieking uncontrollably as her boyfriend collapsed on top of her.
Vader casually exited the room, showing the storm troopers just how replaceable they were to him – in devastating contrast to Anakin's relationship with his clone troopers. As for the nurse, Vader presumed that the trauma of a dead man inside her was enough to teach her a lesson.
Taul then rushed to Kimm's aid, who was shivering, trapped under Dax.
Barely getting over the shock, he helped lift his friend's dead weight off of her.
He placed the sheet over Kimm, covering her up, as he took a moment to mourn his friend, unable to wrap his head around just how heartless Vader was.
"And he looked up at his father and brother, and revealed that he had hid the ball all along." Obi-Wan read before closing the book. He turned to Luke and Leia who were cuddled up with a blanket on either side of him on the couch.
"So what did you think?" He asked
"Ugh." A 10 year old Luke groaned. "Uncle Ben, does everything have to be a lesson?"
"Yes, everything." He stated emphatically. "The universe is always sending a message. And we have to listen."
"I," Leia interjected confidently, "think that if it were me, you'd never find the ball."
She shot Obi-Wan a cheeky smirk, causing him to smile.
"I don't doubt that." He grinned before turning to Luke "And you?"
"...It's kinda sad." Luke muttered.
"Sad?" Obi-Wan cocked an eyebrow. "Why?"
"It took him this long to make peace." Luke huffed. "He was holding the ball hostage – refusing to let them play without him. . .just because of one silly fight with his dad." He shook his head. "It was a waste of time."
Obi-Wan sighed. "He was angry. But he learned patience, understanding, and then he found peace."
Luke remained silent, his eyes glazing over the blanket, as Obi-Wan continued. "You see, a father knows when he's holding on too tight, and when to let go. When someone is angry, there's nothing you can do. . .you must let them cool off."
Leia's eyes raised, inquiring: "What if they don't come around?"
Obi-Wan's eyes now stared ahead, as he began to pick at his beard. "...you practice patience, understanding and. . .you hope for peace."
Later that evening, as the twins headed off to their respective bedrooms, Obi-Wan decided to check on Luke.
"You seem bothered by the book." He spoke, closing the door behind him.
"I don't care." Luke whined with a shrug.
"Luke." Obi-Wan could see right through his arms-folded, defiant demeanor.
"What?" The boy groaned. And Obi-Wan took a seat at the end of the bed, patiently waiting for him to express himself.
Luke took a breath, letting go of his defensiveness. "Everyone takes it for granted, having a father. Like it isn't important. Like it doesn't affect everything, everyday, wherever you go, whatever you do." He huffed. "...Everyone has one so they don't care – until they don't."
"Yeah." Obi-Wan nodded with graceful empathy. "That's how it is sometimes. We don't always see what's in front of us."
Luke's eyes lowered to the ground. Obi-Wan observed him as the silence washed over them. His eyes searched his, trying to gauge what he was thinking.
And after a thoughtful pause, Luke finally allowed his vulnerability to seep through. "...she never talks about him."
And Obi-Wan realized what all of this was about.
Obi-Wan wondered how to handle this. This was really a conversation for Padme to have but it was clear Luke couldn't talk to her about this.
Obi-Wan eventually replied with a mournful sigh. "It's. . .hard for her too."
It's hard for all of us.
And I've been a fool and I've been blind
I can never leave the past behind
I can see no way, I can see no way
I'm always dragging that horse around
Our love is pastured, such a mournful sound
Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground
"They're asleep." Obi-Wan said as he headed into the living room.
"Thanks." Padme expressed her gratitude with a warm smile before heading over to the couch.
Obi-Wan made his way to join her.
"They've been asking about him." He noted.
And Padme fell silent. He didn't have to look at her to imagine the despair on her face.
"...what do you tell them?" She spoke, eventually, finding her words.
"The highlights." He shrugged hopelessly. And still she was quiet.
Obi-Wan finally turned to look at her. "They want to know him, Padme." He urged softly.
Her lip stiffened, letting out a slow breath. "Obi-Wan, don't start." She pleaded with a groan.
"You ought to talk to them." He pressed, and Padme grew impatient, fearful.
"–and tell them what?" She snapped. "That he left us? That he killed himself in search of power?! That he destroyed it all, sucking the light out of everything in the galaxy, including himself...?"
She got up abruptly and began to head over to the kitchen, searching for a wine glass.
And this was why Obi-Wan never wanted to broach the subject. None of them had fully recovered but Obi-Wan was the only one honest with himself.
"You spent three years married to him." Obi-Wan's voice was almost as irritable as hers as he followed her. "And yet you're holding onto one dark night, allowing it to keep you there. That's no way to go through life."
"Well, it kinda dampens the other memories slightly." She mocked derisively as she uncorked a bottle to pour herself a drink.
"Memories like them?" Obi-Wan gestured over to the kids' bedrooms. She seethed, resenting him for even including them in this conversation. "They were born out of love. Before the dark times. That's what you should be reminding them of."
"Do you think I'm proud of this?" She glared. "I'm not. I didn't want this for them! You think it never occurred to me what kind of life I wanted to give them?!"
She took a moment to steady her breathing, fighting back tears. "But I can't. . .I'm not the same anymore. I'm not the mother I thought I'd be. I know it, okay?!"
She wiped her tears fiercely trying to fend off her pain. She eventually plopped herself on the bar stool. Sitting there quietly, her quavering breaths now slow as the tears dried up. "I know it. I don't need you to remind me." She drawled.
"What a shame." Obi-Wan shook his head. "The Padme I knew had so much fight in her. And she never gave up her grace, her femininity or her warmth to use it. Hope you find it again."
He walked out, leaving her consumed with her thoughts.
The next day, Padme took the time to assess the way things had been going, realizing that Obi-Wan was right. She needed to make a change. It's been a decade and she was just getting by, not really living. And while she was always nurturing and present with her children, she hadn't allowed herself to be vulnerable around them, as if that was a way to protect them. But now it was clear that her behaviour was more harmful than helpful.
"Luke, Leia, dinner!" She called for them to join her at the dining table.
"Hmm." Leia grinned. "It's good."
"You like it?" Padme perked up, glancing at each of them.
"Yeah." Luke nodded.
As she watched them gobble up their food, looking at their angelic faces, she could see Anakin in them even though she never wanted to admit it. She could never bring herself to accept the past.
She rested her elbows on the table, taking a deep breath. "...This was the first meal I ever cooked for your dad."
Both kids looked up at her abruptly in disbelief. She always changed the subject when the topic of their late father came up, making them refrain from talking about him.
"It was a disaster." She lightly chuckled. "But he pretended it wasn't." The memory left her a little sorrowful but she let it pass.
Her eyes remained on her plate as she contemplated that thought. "But. . .I practiced my culinary skills and. . .eventually I got better at it."
Albeit curious, both of them continued to eat their food, almost afraid that any acknowledgement of their father would have their mother revert back to avoidance.
"Look," She finally proclaimed, "I know I've made it difficult for you to bring this stuff up with me. And I'm sorry." She uttered earnestly. Looking into their eyes, hers displaying quiet regret.
"But," She regained her composure, trying to take a leap forward. "I'm gonna try talking about it. . .and maybe, eventually, get better at it."
Her imploring eyes searched theirs.
"I'd like that." Leia shot her a warm smile, allowing Padme to release a sigh of relief.
"Me too." Luke agreed – and Padme reached out to squeeze their hands, with a heartfelt smile.
Looking for heaven, found the devil in me
But what the hell, I'm going to let it happen to me
And it's hard to dance with the devil on your back
And given half a chance, would I take any of it back
It's a fine romance, but it's left me so undone
It's always darkest before the dawn
Shake it Out - Florence & The Machine (Glee version)