Thank you for all your reviews, guys. Christmas is harassing me like a terrier snapping at my heels, but I'm determined to get this posted!

A Hope in Hell
By Mina

Chapter 4

Another dream. Equally as indistinct and fogged, but this time there was the feeling of movement, of being carried as if he were no bigger than a babe. A rocking, urgent motion, as the figure that held him hurried along an airy, echoing corridor.

"It will be a matter of days, Master," a voice said, from above him. The same voice as before, the words rumbling through him. All Vader could see through his watery vision was the outline of cloth where his face was pressed to the man's shoulder. But still, the identity of that figure finally registered. Obi-Wan. Anger and hatred burst within Vader then, but he did not have the control over his dream body to do anything more than cling to the enemy that held him.

Were these memories, then? Luke's memories? But could such a young baby form memories, let alone discern the words in them? Perhaps this was the Force speaking to him, inching its way back into his mind, trying to guide him through the mystery of the past.

"Days we may not have, young Obi-Wan," another voice said, and this one was easily recognizable: Yoda. If possible, Vader's anger clawed higher, scratching through his mind uselessly, offering him no strength. "Take the boy, you should. Agreed this, we did. To Tatooine he must go. Safer, it is."

Obi-Wan didn't slow, and he was travelling too fast to have Yoda there with him; it must be a conversation over communicator. Light blinded Vader momentarily as Obi-Wan left the building and emerged into bright daylight. He felt his body flinch, and then he was shifted so that he looked up in Obi-Wan's agitated face. The man gave him a small smile, touched a finger to his cheek, and Vader wanted to scream at him. "He has already lost his father. And Padmé - she is still aware, Master. She knows what is happening. I cannot take him away from her yet. We do not even know why she is fading, or how long she will live."

"Senator Organa has -"

"- made his own decision," Obi-Wan interrupted, in a sharp tone that Vader had rarely heard from his old master. "Master, we do not even know if Palpatine is looking for them. With Anakin dead-"

"Dead is he, hmmm? Thought, I did, that uncertain you were of his fate."

Obi-Wan's face tightened with an unreadable emotion. "Luke has been calling for his father constantly, Master. If Anakin were alive... he would have been here by now."

Mutely, Vader raged at that. I was alive! he wanted to scream at Obi-Wan. But I was undergoing the transformation you forced upon me! I was not even cognisant enough to hear my own thoughts, never mind my son's calls! How could I have known?!

"Humph," was all Yoda replied to that.

"And, Master... I sense that there is something more going on in Theed than we are aware of."

A long pause. Obi-Wan must have passed into the shade of a building, because sudden darkness flooded Vader's sight before his dream-eyes adjusted. "A vision, you have had?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, but there is something about the city... a darkness..."

A longer pause this time. And then Obi-Wan slowed, coming to halt in a narrow doorway. "Be wary of your heart, Obi-Wan. Lead you astray, it could. If seek to find a reason to stay on Naboo you do, then find it you will."

"I only want to give her more time..." Obi-Wan whispered. "The ship is hidden not far from the city. If we have to leave quickly, we can use the beckon call..."

And then Vader felt gravity shifting around him as he was lowered. His arms flailed briefly, and he caught sight of his own chubby hands waving in front of him, trying to catch onto something. But he was laid gently on a bed and clutched a fistful of soft, silky fabric in his hand.

He was turned with gentle fingers to face the woman he'd been placed beside, and a face swam into view. Her face, a spectre of the past. Tired, worn, pale - filled with gentle love. His mind came to a shuddering halt as he recognised the gentle presence his child-mind instinctively latched onto through the Force.

He stared at her, reeling. He had almost forgotten... almost forgotten how devastating her beauty was. "Luke," Padmé whispered to him, and smiled that breath-taking smile. She leaned down, kissed him softly on the forehead, and settled her head back on the pillow, looking exhausted from even that slight movement.

"I will investigate the city, Master. There are still those in palace who remember me and may help me if I am... discreet... in contacting them."

"Understand your heart, I do," Yoda replied, sounding old and tired, "but... risk the boy's future you should not, Obi-Wan. Our only hope, he may be."

"Vader? Father? Father?? Come on - wake up!"

Maybe it was the urgency in the voice, or maybe it was the title Luke had used, but Vader snapped awake with a jolt. Luke was gripping his left arm, shaking him roughly.

Vader reached out and grabbed him, stilled him. "What is it?" he rumbled.

Luke looked abashed. "We… we've overslept. We've been asleep for hours. We need to get moving. "

Vader just shook his head in self-disgust and braced his usable hand against the chair arms to try and regain his feet, quickly realising the import of their negligence. He blamed himself, really. He should not have allowed himself to sleep so deeply, he -

Pain shot through his legs and he went back down to the seat again in a very un-Dark-Lordly manner. He growled in frustration; this was not the situation he had envisaged when he had decided to visit Naboo. He had not imagined that his world would be turned inside out and his dignity so undermined by a band of hooligans and a wayward son. He was supposed to be dignified, aloof and untouchable. He was stable and unshakable and -

- a father.

He was a father.

Despite the urgency of the situation, the thought lanced through him, as potent as the loss of his Force abilities, and his ailing health - more potent, in fact, and in so many ways.

The thought was brought home harder as he watched, dazedly, as Luke struggled to take his weight and pull him upright. The boy failed, staggering back a few steps and looking chagrined. Then, as if realising that he wouldn't lift Vader on his own, the boy offered him his hand.

The skin was pale alabaster, but the gesture was strangely sincere. It tore at Vader. When had anyone ever offered a Dark Lord their hand? When had a Dark Lord ever had need of that helping hand?

Now, he thought. Right now. And it wasn't so bad.

There was a faint smile playing on Luke's lips and Vader worried for a split second that he was broadcasting his thoughts again. As quickly as it was there, the smile was gone again. Back was the sad, terrible face of a lifetime of grief and struggle. That grim expression didn't suit the boy's innocent features, Vader thought. It forced maturity onto a child barely into his teenage years and Vader had much preferred the childish innocence that had shone through oh-so-briefly before their argument. But that light-heartedness was gone now, replaced by fear and urgency, and the thought entered Vader's mind that the destruction of Naboo had robbed Luke of his childhood.

But, no, Vader had done that. By his decisions.

Well, he was wrong then. His decisions had had poor consequences, not just for Vader, but also for his son. Hard to believe how long ago he had made those decisions. And time, like the river, was swiftly flowing away. And look what it had made - a son.

"Father," Luke said urgently, and Vader snapped back to the present at the sound of the word. "We need to move."

Vader nodded and with effort got to his feet, Luke's now-distinctive healing Force slipping through his veins, cooling the aches. "Lead the way," he said, and Luke smiled.

Vader realised with dismay that Luke had not been exaggerating. When they climbed the steps back up to street-level, a sickly-coloured sunset was already beginning to wash the sky. Vader cursed inwardly. At least five hours had passed, and they had no idea how close Jandon's gang was on their tail.

Vader hurried as fast as his body was capable of going, Luke sticking close to him, seemingly aware that his proximity increased the effect of his instinctive Force-healing. The boy was astute, Vader had to give him that.

They struggled through the ancient streets that formed the centre of the city and out towards more modern structures to the more commercial areas. All about him, the destruction was immense - collapsed buildings, sunken and broken streets, the sodden, charred remains from old fires spotted with the growth of lichen and other damp-loving plants.

It became apparent that they were approaching the swollen banks of the river when the ground became unstable, saturated and sodden underfoot.

"Careful," Luke warned, still holding tight to Vader as they struggled on, "sometimes the ground collapses here onto cellars and catacombs. It's unstable." And Vader was judicious enough to listen to the boy's advice.

In the distance, a bridge came into view, but Vader's hopes for an easy path across the river died when he saw that it had collapsed in large sections, crumbling into the river. The first strut of the bridge was a good fifty metres into the river - unreachable, or so it seemed.

"Luke -" he started to say, but once again the boy seemed to have taken up residence in his mind, because he knew what Vader was about to say before he'd even begun to voice the words.

"It's crossable," Luke said, "I've used it before, when… well, I've used it before."

Vader frowned, but said nothing. As they approached, he realised his silence was well-kept, as it became clear that those parts of the bridge that had collapsed had been crudely in-filled with various pieces of flotsam, sheets of metal and plastisteel blocks that might once of been parts of buildings but were unrecognisable now. It made for a rough, treacherous bridge across the swollen river, but a bridge nonetheless.

They were almost halfway across the precarious structure when the first blaster shots came flying in.

"Get down!" Luke shouted unnecessarily, and Vader was uncertain whether to feel insulted or alarmed that the boy tried to shield him with his body. From in-between the ramshackle structures of the bridge, blaster shots were fired, pinning them down. Vader gripped Luke to stop him from running away. Their attackers could have killed them with their first shots had they desired to do so. Apparently, they didn't. Vader still had Luke's blaster attached to his utility belt, and his hand itched for it.

"Show yourselves!" Vader called, ignoring Luke's look of alarm.

There was silence, punctuated by the sound of blaster fire before it abated. Slowly, a figure lifted itself from the wreckage, a ragged youth by the looks of him, features obscured by the backlighting of the sunset and by the cloth that was wound around his face, covering everything except the eyes. Vader made a move forwards, but a rally of shots stilled him and he waited impatiently for the figure to approach.

"You cannot pass," the boy said, coming to a halt a few metres in front of them, balancing agilely on the broken bridge.

Luke stiffened at the voice. "Jee?" he whispered. And then louder, "Aljeed - Jee, that you?"

The figure didn't seem surprised to have heard his name. "Hello, Luke."

"Jee! Boy, am I glad it's you! I -" More blaster shots spat at them as Luke made a move forwards, and Vader hauled the boy back against his chest, feeling indignant rage in his chest. He resisted the urge to grab the blaster from his belt, knowing he could not out-shoot all of them without the Force to aid him.

Jee whirled around. "Hold your fire," he shouted, and turned slowly back to them. "Stay where you are, Luke. You can't cross."

Luke flinched from the acid tone of the other boy. "I…." He trailed off. Then he seemed to shake himself. "Let us past, Jee - we're being followed."

The boy didn't change his stance. "We know. They're about a mile behind you," he said, his tone unemotional.

A mile? At that distance it was even possible that Vader and Luke would be visible on the bridge, black spots against the setting sun.

"A mile? Hells…." Luke said, and started forward again. The other boy brought his blaster up, pointing it squarely at Luke's chest.

Vader was moving before he had time to think about what his reaction to the threat should be, and was abruptly between Jee and his son. "Let us pass. We do not intend to disturb you or your friends," he said, attempting to suffuse the words with the Force.

Apparently, it didn't work. The boy laughed, sardonically. "Too late - they'll know you came through here." Then he sobered abruptly. "You cannot pass. Go back and find another way."

Luke attempted to manoeuvre himself around Vader, but Vader was in no mood for the boy's unnerving tendency to place himself in danger. He kept the boy firmly behind him.

Luke huffed in annoyance, yelling, "What are you doing, Jee? We're friends, let us through!" The words where muffled by Vader's cloak.

Jee shook his head. "Sorry, Luke, I can't let you. Jandon will -"

"Jandon will do whatever he wants, he won't care what you do!"

"That's not true and you know it. You, of all people, should know that."

Something in that last sentence made Vader's nerves tingle in apprehension - something in the older boy's tone made him feel abruptly nauseous. "What do you mean?" he asked, before he was truly aware he was going to ask it.

The cool eyes regarded him for a moment, before flicking to where Luke was still attempting to get around Vader's stranglehold on him. "You haven't told him," Jee said, clearly addressing Luke.

Luke stilled abruptly. "Shut up, Jee. Just let us over."

"What - ?" Vader started to ask, but then a shrill whistle split the air and Jee whirled in alarm.

"They're coming - get out of here. You can't pass," he hissed, already running back to his bolthole.

"Jee!" Luke called, and with the blaster lowered Vader finally allowed his son to face the other boy. "Wait! Don't - remember what he did to you last time? He'll do it to us, too. You can't just leave us here!"

Jee stilled halfway down his bolthole. "It's not just about you, Luke. I have to look after the others."

Luke's fists clenched and unclenched. He looked behind him, and Vader followed his gaze, but there was no sign of their pursuers yet. "I can help you," Luke said.

"No, you can't," Jee replied.

"We have med-supplies and rations."

The youth paused, just for a moment. Then he shook his head. "Not good enough," he said, dropping down through the structure of the bridge, almost out of sight.

"That's not all. We've got a key for the research stations," Luke called after the boy. He took a step forward, and again a blaster shot spat at his feet, sending molten metal flying into the air.

"No farther!" someone called, but Jee had stilled and was looking at Luke curiously.

"A genuine key?" he asked. "For the bunkers?"

Luke nodded eagerly. "We used it earlier. It's where we got the supplies."

Jee was silent for a moment. Vader felt frustration tearing at his control, but he knew better than to push the older boy. Finally, Jee nodded. "Alright, follow me -"

"Alj!! What you doing!" someone - a much younger voice - yelled angrily.

"What do you think? I'm buying us some meds!" he called back. He turned to them, looking torn despite his defiant words. "This way," he finally said, and Vader needed no more encouragement.

Jee's bolthole led down through the structure of the bridge, winding all the way along its length to the other side of the river. It required Vader to climb over broken and twisted metal, and with his incapacitated arm and injured leg, he had to accept Luke's help supporting him as he clambered awkwardly over the structure. He wondered bitterly if it was even possible for his pride to be more bruised than it was now.

The youth, Jee, stopped when they reached the bank, waiting impatiently for them to catch up. With closer inspection, it was clear to Vader that the youth was several years Luke's senior, though his coverings made it impossible to guess his exact age. His gang clustered around him, all Luke's age or younger, dirty and dishevelled, toting heavily taped-together armour. They eyed Luke and him warily, with eyes older than their years. Jee held out a hand for the blaster that still hung from Vader's belt. Vader handed it over with a suppressed snarl of displeasure.

Vader had assumed Jee wore a scarf around his face to shield his identity, however that appeared to have been a hasty assumption. None of the other children were similarly covered. Then the reason for the covering became clear as Jee unwound the cloth.

Luke didn't flinch, but Vader couldn't help a gasp of surprise - and disgust. The boy's face was covered in scars, horribly deep scars, mottled red and white.

"If you're coming with us, I can't let you see the route in," the youth said, reaching out to yank Luke's bandana over his eyes and then handing his own covering to Vader. "Cover your eyes."

Vader looked down at the cloth in his hand, his dignity seriously under threat. "Is this necessary?"

"It's necessary," Jee snapped back. "Unless you want to go back over the bridge and face Jandon?"

Luke squeezed Vader's arm. "Come on, Father," he whispered. "We don't have a choice."

Vader grimaced, but after a few moments of silent fuming he acquiesced, tying the cloth behind his helmet. Without the Force and now without his eyes, Vader had never felt so blind.

Somebody in Jee's gang snickered, and Vader went to rip the cloth away from his helmet, but Jee quieted the laughing boy with what sounded like a harsh slap.

"Enough! We've got to get moving. Come on. And shut your sniggering, or you can stay behind!"

Someone grabbed hold of his useless right arm, pulling him forward as the gang set off at a swift pace. Vader felt a slight pull in the opposite direction as Luke grabbed at his cloak, trying to catch up.

"Don't worry, it isn't far," he whispered as he drew level with Vader.

"So you have been here before?"

He expected a nonchalant reply, but when there was nothing but silence Vader turned to him, damning the cloth that stopped him from reading his son's expression

"Yeah, once," Luke replied, eventually. Then quickly, so quickly that it had to be a distraction, he pushed another swath of healing energy through Vader's aching limbs. "Don't worry, it's not far now."

Feeling inexplicably nervous about the future, Vader chose not to pull the boy up on his avoidance. Not yet, anyway, and not whilst they had an audience.

Luke's Force-healing helped to cool the burning of his wounded pride, as did Vader's concentration on his lingering feeling of impending trouble. Could the Force be returning to him? If so, it had rarely felt so... ominous.

And maybe Luke sensed his unease, because - ludicrously - the child gave Vader's left arm a squeeze and another rush of warmth seemed to go through him, travelling along the bond he still couldn't yet reach for himself.