Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or Star Wars.
Darth had found a note on the windshield of his Cadillac Escalade when he headed down to the parking lot to drive home:
VADER—
DISSATISFIED WITH YOUR JOB? YOU HAVE TALENTS THAT WE COULD USE. COME ACROSS TOWN AND TALK TO US!
SINCERELY,
YOUR FRIENDS AT REBEL CORP
Disgusted, Darth crumpled up the note and tossed it into the backseat. He started his Escalade and raced home.
Needless to say, Beru Lars was quite surprised to see her brother-in-law arrive home at two in the afternoon.
"Darth!" she exclaimed. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he growled through his respirator. "I left work early. I'm here to take care of my children."
Beru had to pinch herself to ensure that she wasn't dreaming.
"How's my Luke?"
"Uhhh…" Beru was still stunned. "He's fine. I think he's feeling better, because he drove both Leia and I into bankruptcy in Monopoly."
"Dynamite!"
"O-kay. Ummm…well, Luke's in his room, and Leia's in her room, so…" Beru still stared at him. "Are you honestly sure that I can leave?"
"Positive. I've been thinking about what you and Owen said last night, and I really need to spend time with the kids."
Beru shrugged, told Darth that his kids were fine, and left, looking back over her shoulder almost the entire time.
Luke was indeed in his room, fiddling with his baby polar bear.
"It's Lukey! And his little polar buddy!" Darth exclaimed, taking a seat on his son's bed. "Son, how are you feeling?"
"Alright," Luke grumbled.
"I love this little polar bear. Your mother bought it for you when we went on that cruise to northern Canada. You almost froze to death, kiddo!"
Luke stared at his father. "I did?"
"Sure! We were all on the deck together, staring at the Northern Lights, and your sister needed a diaper change. So we all went inside, and your mother was holding you, and you weren't moving. Your skin was all cold. Your mother took you to the medical bay, and as it turns out, you had hypothermia."
"I never knew that about myself," Luke said softly.
"Well, kiddo, you got better. You cuddled with your sister in the cabin. Your mother swore that you two could talk to each other without words."
Luke blushed. "Twins are different, Dad."
"I know, Luke." Darth patted his son on the back.
Luke sat back and relaxed on his pillow. "Dad, what was Mom like? I miss her."
Darth reached for his son's hand. "Your mother was very special, Luke. Not a day goes by when I don't miss her either. She loved you and your sister more than anything else in this world."
Tears were running down Luke's cheeks, and he was frantically wiping them with a pajama sleeve. Darth took a tissue from his son's nightstand and started dabbing at Luke's tears. "Now, son, don't cry. I know you miss your mother, but she's still watching over you, and cursing me for not taking care of you."
"Is there any way that the doctors could have saved her, Dad?" Luke sobbed, reaching for another tissue. The tears were free-flowing, and he couldn't seem to turn them off.
Darth hugged his son. "No, Luke," he said softly, whispering into his son's ear. "You know what happened that night. It was an accident. Your mother and I were on a date night, and we'd left you and your sister with your aunt and uncle. We were heading to the farm to pick you two up, and we were rammed headfirst by a drunk driver. Your mother died instantly, and I…" he trailed off, unable to continue.
"And you're stuck in that suit," Luke finished for his father.
"Exactly," Darth sighed.
"Dad," Luke said, after an uncomfortable pause. "Don't take this the wrong way, but…I wish I could touch you. I wish I could see your skin. You're the only dad in school with a creepy helmet."
"I can't, Luke. I'll die."
"I know," Luke sulked, sitting back against his pillow and tossing his polar bear against the wall.
"Will this work for now?" Darth stretched his hand out in front of his son, and very gently pulled a black glove back, exposing about half an inch of his pale white skin.
Luke leaned forward in excitement. "Your skin is so pale, Dad!" he oohed. Then he frowned. "You need to get out more."
Darth had to laugh. "Are you feeling better, son?"
"I don't know, I guess." Well, at least he sounded better. No wheezing or coughing. His fever felt as if it was waning.
"Need anything, kiddo?"
"More tea, Dad." Luke handed over the coffee mug that aunt had been filling with hot tea. It was a mug that he had made for his father in preschool. His class had written messages to their parents on coffee mugs as holiday gifts. On the side, in his shaky five-year-handwriting, Luke had written, "I LOV YOU DADDY. LOV LUKY."
It was Darth's favorite. Luke must have been keeping it.
"Coming right up, son," Darth smiled, even though Luke couldn't see it.
Up Next: More Cuddling
