The next morning when Vader entered Luke's cell the boy was curled in one corner of the cell, clearly nursing new injuries. Vader walked over to him and knelt down beside him. He slipped one hand under his arm and tried to roll him onto his back.

Luke pulled away, "Get away from me, murderer!"

Vader released the boy's thin arm and Luke rolled back into the corner.

"What happened? Yesterday you were willing to accept comfort." Vader was surprised to feel genuine worry for the young rebel.

"I remembered who you are and what you've done! Yesterday you just took advantage of how scared I was," his voice dropped to a murmur, "You killed my father and now you're trying to take his place."

Vader sat back, giving the frightened child more room. "Yesterday you didn't seem so unwilling to forgive."

"I was scared! I would have accepted comfort from anyone. Even you."

Vader moved away from the child, but Luke wasn't done yet, "He was your friend and you killed him! I bet your child who wasn't born would never have survived having you as a father! I hate you!" He curled into a tiny ball and sobbed helplessly.

Vader tried again to comfort the boy he had somehow begun to feel protective of.

"Get away from me! You killed my father and my teacher and my aunt and uncle and you're going to let them kill me, but first you're going to try to steal my loyalty to my family!" And the child stopped, because it is only possible to scream and cry for a certain amount of time.

Vader stood and walked to the other side of the cell to wait the broken, helpless rebel out.

He felt the pain that ripped through the boy's hands as he beat at the duracrete floor. The child's loneliness was his own, his terror Vader's. Vader longed to have the boy crawl back into his arms and allow him to try to help.

It felt strange not allowing himself to force the boy to do what he wanted. Even if what he wanted was simply the chance to comfort.

Was he right? Had my child survived its birth, would I have killed it? I killed the baby's mother in my fury, is it so unrealistic that I might have killed the child too? In a way I did kill the baby, if indirectly. What kind of father could I ever have been? Being a Sith and all.

It's not really such a surprise that Luke wants nothing to do with me. I don't blame him. He needs someone, though. Will he come back to me?

Luke stared across the cell at Vader. He hated the man and he had every reason to. Vader had killed so many, including Luke's family. Again he felt the urge to crawl over to Vader and let the man comfort him. Vader always had room for him. He hadn't left when Luke had been so rude. He was un-judging. He never told Luke to get lost. He seemed so strangely vulnerable, like he actually needed the farm boy. Luke felt Vader's odd pain.

I need his love. I need someone's love. Vader is just doing what he always does. He takes everything and offers some stupid consolation. He offers you something that doesn't make up for what he's done to you and you have to give him more to get it. He's a cold, cruel monster. He is trying to get something from me. That's the only reason he's here.

But what he wants from me is love. What he offers is love. His offer is fair. By not mentioning what he's done to me and what he has the power to do to me he allows me to be his equal.

I could never he his equal. I don't want to be his equal. That would mean that I was like him. I can't see him! If I can see him I'm tempted! Luke curled into a ball, hiding his face against his knees.

An hour or so later Vader stood and left the boy's cell. He turned as he left and spoke his words from the day before, "Goodnight, Luke."

Luke just whimpered. Vader left, trying to ignore the hollow feeling of being shunned by the boy.