Mashaw Bros Sunset Circus

by DragonflyonBreak

Come to the circus and witness what you've never seen before. DARK.

For IceyGemini, who requested Dark/Sith Luke, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, and Whump and whose preferred themes that I chose from were Alternate Universe, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Child Abuse, Torture, Slavery, and of course a Happy(ish) Ending. Part of the 2023 May 4 Disaster Lineage Appreciation Gift Exchange, hosted on Archive of Our Own.

You gave me a reason to finally write out this demented idea I've had sitting in my back pocket for a while now.

Finally, a massive thank you and shout out to SpellCleaver for beta-ing this for me! I really appreciate your help!

Happy May the 4th, everyone!

Mashaw Bros. Sunset Circus

---

The massive grand doors to the Emperor's chamber slowly opened in front of him with the ominous sound of rock grating on rock. The Red Guard standing on either side of the doors did nothing to acknowledge him. They stared straight ahead, professional to the core of their beings. Their thoughts were carefully guarded and their emotions were tempered and evenly controlled.

There was no ceremony of introduction being offered for him today. No "His Majesty, the Emperor will see you now", no pomp and circumstance, no flourishing words.

It was as clear of an indicator as he knew of that he was not being considered a privileged guest at the moment and that he should tread very cautiously in all his words and actions. The realization did little to stir him out of the apathy and disinterest that plagued him. At this point in his apprenticeship, everything he did felt like nothing but a rote performance.

Vader waited for the doors to open fully before he finally stepped inside.

There were an abundance of windows, stretching tall from floor to ceiling, all of them offering a spectacular view of the city outside. It was grand, a view made for royalty. It showcased the setting sun far off in the distance and though the rays of light stretched into the throne room and cast a warm glow across the floor, the room itself was dark, and the lights overhead were turned down low.

The interior was designed to command respect as much as it was intended to intimidate the unfortunate few who were summoned here. Vader had grown used to the opulence of it a long time ago.

Sidious sat on his throne, a dark hooded figure silhouetted against the windows.

Danger, the Force whispered its warning softly. Danger.

Vader approached with all the confidence that he dared and then knelt down at the appropriate distance, keeping his eyes trained on the ground in front of him.

Around him, the darkness that lingered in the air and in the Force finally shifted like a wraith of evil, slowly circling him as if debating whether or not to strike.

He had been outside of Sidious' favor for a while now and his Master had not needed much reason or provocation in order to hurt him - or rather, encourage him to aspire to his full potential. Vader had arrived at the palace today expecting nothing less.

All the preparation in the world could do little to settle the fear and unease that instinctively sat in his stomach whenever he was in his master's presence.

The moment seemed to stretch for a small eternity. He could practically feel the lightning coursing through his body even now, setting his nerves on fire, cooking him from the inside out, bringing him to the very brink of insanity. Only years of practice and the respirator that regulated his breathing and forced air into his ruined lungs kept his outward appearance calm and seemingly unperturbed.

Vader could feel Sidious' eyes on him and could imagine the amused smirk that sat on his face.

The sound of rock on rock began to grate once again and after another minute or so passed, the grand doors closed behind him. The resounding thud reverberated through the room and seemed especially ominous. It felt like being trapped in a cage. Then, with a slow, falsely strenuous movement, Sidious rose to his feet, leaning heavily on a glossy black cane.

"You may rise, Lord Vader."

"Yes, my Master," Vader said. He moved to his feet, resisting the urge to shift and shake away the discomfort that lingered in his joints and bones. Rather, he stood still and at attention, waiting to hear the reason why he had been summoned this time.

There was no condescending smirk on Sidious' face.

His expression was flat and his yellow eyes seemed especially hard and cold. He only stared. The darkness in the room continued to slowly circle him, hissing angry, wordless things at him.

The silence continued to stretch but Vader knew that it was not his place to break it.

Sidious had a certain fondness for stretching things out between them, if for no other reason than because he could and because Vader had no choice but to wait for however long it took to receive the message. His master enjoyed his games and he always held his cards close at hand.

"I hope I have not disrupted you, asking you to come see me?" Sidious finally asked, raising his eyes the tiniest fraction. As if daring Vader to say anything to the contrary.

He would rather do anything else, be anywhere else in the galaxy than here, and yet they both knew that he would drop everything in an instant and come the second that he was called. It didn't matter how badly he was treated or how much Sidious intended to hurt him.

He came when he was called, every single time.

The knowledge made him feel low, like nothing but a dog.

"No, my Master," Vader said.

"Good, good," Sidious said coolly. "Because there is something rather important I wish to speak to you about. I have sensed a disturbance in the Force recently. Perhaps you have felt it also?"

A chill ran up his spine. It was a bait - a trap of some kind. He did not have the same gift of foresight as Sidious did and his master knew it.

Vader reluctantly shook his head. "No, my Master. I have not."

The darkness continued to circle him in the Force, inching closer and closer.

"Curious. I had hoped, perhaps… but it seems you are still determined to disappoint me." Sidious tsked, tapping his fingers on the top of his black cane. "You are a disappointment, aren't you?"

Anger finally bubbled under his skin, breaking through his wall of carefully constructed apathy, barely kept in check. He had given up everything. He had lost everything that had ever mattered and he kept going anyways and his master dared to be irritated with him.

It was infuriating.

Mostly because it was true.

He had failed and disappointed everyone that had ever mattered to him and he had had the guts all those years ago, when the Empire had first risen and the reality of what he had done and lost had hit him… then he would have killed Sidious instead of letting him continue with his reign of terror.

He wished he could take the bastard's head off.

"I have done everything you have asked of me," Vader said darkly, gritting his teeth.

"You lack ambition. And watch your tone," Sidious warned, glaring down at him. The tips of his fingers sparked in warning and while his own rising temper did not fade, the warning was more than enough to quell it. He dropped his eyes behind his mask and felt his heart pound in his chest, waiting for the inevitable.

The pain didn't come and the moment slowly passed as the darkness curling around him eased back just a tiny bit.

"But perhaps I can still encourage you. You may be a terrible disappointment but you are not completely worthless yet. I have sensed a disturbance in the Force." Sidious continued. A cold, amused smile finally crossed his lips. "Someone quite powerful seems to be emerging. I have sensed him. Another Sith, perhaps. Maybe even one who wishes to replace you at my side."

Vader kept his eyes lowered but inwardly seethed.

Replace him.

After everything that had happened - after Sidious had forced him into this suit and tortured him and refused to let him die. After Vader had done his dirty work and eliminated his threats and built his Empire. After Vader had given him everything - when he had nothing left except for this?

He dared suggest that Vader could just be replaced?

He had not survived this long to be replaced by anyone else now.

"Is this person a threat to us?" Vader asked, lifting his eyes from the ground and glaring at Sidious with all the hatred and darkness he could muster. Outside in the hall, he felt the Red Guard's fear slowly increase as they felt the change in the air.

Sidious only hummed. "He could be."

Vader waited, silently daring him to say something else.

"Find whoever it is and deal with the problem," Sidious finally said, his eyes glinting in the fading light. He waved his hand to dismiss him and Vader immediately turned on his heel, needing no further command to get the hell out. He waved a hand and threw the grand doors open with the Force just as his master offered one last parting jab.

"And if you cannot, then tell him where to find me."

---

It took him several days of intense focus and meditation until Vader was able to find and recognize the faintest wisp of something dark and tormented somewhere in the galaxy. He grabbed onto it, committing the Force signature to memory so that it would be easier to find, and then got to work trying to pinpoint exactly where in the galaxy it was located.

A few more days brought him to Yito.

It was a scummy planet, filled with the lowest kind of filth. Older too, and beginning to fade after billions and billions of years in existence. The atmosphere was clouded and it seemed as though little light from the planet's distant sun was able to penetrate through to the surface below.

It wasn't as hostile of a world as Hoth or even Tatooine were, with their respective temperature extremes being some of the more notable in the galaxy. But it was a colder world nonetheless and was cycling into its own version of winter.

As he entered into the atmosphere, Vader sensed that the planet felt… off.

Eerie, somehow.

It felt like mold and decay and rot.

Yito was not quite a Dark Side planet, the way that others in the galaxy were. Ziost, Jaguada, Rhelg, Asog, even Mustafar - all of them were deeply entrenched in the Dark Side of the Force. They had great and notable significance to the Sith Order and were the most likely places that he could think of for an individual who was curious about the Dark Side to seek information and try to grow in their power.

Yito was not like those ones… nothing grand had ever happened here in terms of the Force. There was no knowledge that could be attained here through temples or found artifacts. It was not Dark.

But… for whatever reason, Vader did not think that it was too far of a stretch to think that it could be in some future time.

The sun had begun to set when he landed his shuttle in the middle of a large, empty field and stepped outside. The harvest must have been weeks ago as there was nothing in the field beyond broken stalks, dead leaves, and dirt. The sky was gray under the cover of clouds and there was a bite to the wind. Even the shadows that stretched along the ground seemed ominous, as though they had a life and a will of their own.

There was a town a few miles out, the lights of which were just barely visible through the planet's own natural gloom. His reports called it Lindow and it was on the outskirts of a somewhat larger city, perhaps twenty or thirty standard miles away.

What held his attention though were a variety of massive tents that had been set up in the field itself. The Force presence that he had traced was much stronger out here, and Vader was certain that whoever they were, they were inside one of the tents.

Red, black, and purple banners waved in the evening breeze, and a small crowd of attendees were making their way inside what appeared to be the main tent. It was the largest by far and even from a quarter mile out, a loud commotion and raucous laughter could be heard from inside.

An electrified fence surrounded the tents and a massive sign came into clearer focus as they approached, finally visible through the gloom.

Vader paused in his advance, his lip curling.

Mashaw Bros. Sunset Circus

Witness What You've Never Seen Before!

A circus. It was a Force-damned circus.

Irritation bubbled under his skin at this indignity. He was going to slaughter whoever had made him come all this way to a damn circus.

It was time to get this over with.

"Create a perimeter," Vader said lowly, striding forwards through the open fence. Two squads immediately split off. "No one leaves. The rest of you are with me."

There were murmurs and pointing fingers from onlookers and several groups of people began scrambling to get out of the way as he approached with stormtroopers flanking him, three on each side.

The main tent stood perhaps eighty feet tall and had probably once been white in color, though it was now a dirty gray, stained with mud and rainfall over what must have been years. Torches shone along the outside every three feet for archaic lighting. The entrance to the tent itself was wide enough for a good seven or eight people to pass through side by side without much difficulty; two flaps, held open by large cords of colored rope.

Vader stepped inside, casting his eyes about shrewdly and spreading his Force presence out wide.

Everything felt loud.

The inside of the massive tent was far less elegant than the outside interior was; it was comparable to a dark, shady bar filled with the absolute scum of the galaxy. It was hay bales and wooden furniture and concession stands and stalls. A bar area sat on one side, taking a significant portion of space. It had low lighting and an obnoxious kind of music genre playing from speakers that Vader was unfamiliar with and instantly disliked. Smoke from drugs and cheaply made but ridiculously expensive food clouded the air. Heinous looking clowns and a not insignificant number of armed guards were also milling about.

The floor itself was just rugs and dirt, being kicked and scattered about by the crowd.

Somewhere inside, above the noise of the people, an announcer's voice was making commentary, "Up next, we have our main event for the evening - "

Vader tuned it out, unable to care less.

The rest of the tent seemed to be comprised of cages that had been set up in rows, with a variety of beasts kept locked inside for the up-close viewing and entertainment of the crowd. There were many that he recognized as belonging to a multitude of other worlds and environments and then species that he'd never seen before.

There was an Anooba, a Cherfer, a Dewback, a set of Greysors, and Kath hounds, among just a few.

Vader cared nothing for any of them but even he could see that their enclosures were far too small. His frustration at being here increased as he saw various attendees jab at the animals with sticks or throw small rocks or cheap food through the bars to try and evoke a reaction from them.

It was a pathetic existence.

Some of the beasts hissed or growled, snapping their jowls in irritation and anger, but the vast majority seemed resigned to the treatment and did their best to ignore it entirely. Vader despised that he could relate.

But there was something to be said for drunken entertainment. It made all manner of men to be nothing but fools.

The noise muffled the sound of his entrance and in the most insulting reception he'd ever received, the majority of the attendees saw him and the stormtroopers that were with him and automatically assumed that they were cosplayers providing entertainment.

"Looks like the Empire came to the damn circus!" Someone laughed.

" - are they real -"

" Ha! The Empire is a circus, you dipshit!"

"That seems in poor taste -"

" - the fuck would Darth Vader be here for? Use your brain you fucking idiot."

Some of those that noticed wisely parted the way for him, growing still and quiet as he passed while others boo- ed, pointing and making jokes and spitting hatred.

"Fuck the Empire!"

"Go back to Coruscant, Imps!"

Vader felt his tenuous patience finally snap when a fat, sweaty, beer-bellied drunken fool of a man tried to throw something at him. He swatted it away and lashed out in the Force, grabbing the idiot by the throat and crushing it into nothing before throwing his body to the side and into the closest open-top enclosure of a young and rather hungry looking gundark. It hit the ground with a disgustingly dull thud and the beast inside wasted no time in lunging forward and tearing into the free meal.

A weak feeling of terror and pain weakly pricked at the Force as the fat man began to be eaten.

Everyone in Vader's immediate vicinity grew perfectly silent in an instant, blood draining from their collective faces.

"Get out," Vader hissed.

They all fled, silently rushing for the exit as he and his men continued their way forwards.

People continued to part the way for him as he scanned the crowd, searching for his prey. With the first crowd of people still making their way outside and setting the example, the rest of the circus goers did not have the same inclination to try and mock him. Instead, they grew still and quiet as he passed by. Their eyes were wide and Vader felt their fear and uncertainty begin to creep into the Force as they realized that he and his men were not part of whatever asinine act they had thought was coming out.

The moment that Vader passed them entirely, they also turned and fled until almost half the tent had emptied itself in a mass exodus, leaving behind their belongings and food.

Those that were left belonged to a large group of people in the center-back arena. They were loud and distracted enough by whatever had their attention that they continued to be completely oblivious to everything else that was happening around them. The Force signature he was looking for was in that crowd.

It felt angry - frustrated and chaotic. But while it was certainly powerful, more so than Vader had expected… it was also flimsy and uncoordinated. Like a child still learning how to walk.

Vader narrowed his eyes and circled his way around the remaining people until he found a spot where he could see the entire arena for were only two people in the arena - and nothing else.

No animals.

No equipment or props of any kind.

Just a pompous looking piece of scum, dressed in clothes so fancy and oily that he looked like a stuffed peacock preening for a crowd of whores. He wore a tight, shiny multi-colored jacket with an extravagant high collared ruffle around the neck, black pants, and knee high brown boots. An electrostaff thrummed in his hand.

The other person was a young boy.

He was nothing but lean muscle. Thin, obviously underfed, and littered with scars. He had on just enough clothes on to protect his modesty and nothing else. There were lines of bright decorative war paint on his face and arms and even his legs. It made him look wild and feral. He wore a leather collar, shackled by a large length of chain cuffed to a ring bolted to a small wheeled bar cage that looked as though it could be pulled by an animal of some sort.

The arena itself was fairly large, surrounded by a low level guard rail and stadium-style seating that went back four rows. The floor was a mixture of sand and straw. The chain the boy was kept on wasn't even long enough to grant him enough room to cross to the other side but kept him in a contained area with limited freedom.

"Come on folks, step right on up and witness something you've never seen before!" That same announcer's voice called out. It was much easier to hear and Vader spied an elevated stand not far off where the announcer was watching from. "The fun is juuuuuuuuuust getting started, ladies and gentlemen, just be sure you signed a waiver at the front and got a wristband before you join in on it. We do our best here at Mashaw to provide a safe environment for all of our esteemed guests but as you know, wild animals are unpredictable and can - heh - bite the hand that feeds them when properly provoked!"

The crowd laughed and, except for those closest to him, remained completely oblivious to his presence. As if on cue, the people in the front and second rows began throwing anything and everything that they had on hand at the boy.

Half eaten food mostly, but also glass bottles and rocks and dirt clods. They pelted him relentlessly, laughing and pointing their fingers as he unsuccessfully tried to dodge. He was quickly peppered with small cuts and bruises and his expression was one of tormented anger and resignation.

"Folks in the front, just be careful - as you know, our resident Tatooinian savage has an attack radius that can reach your seats! For those of you who don't know, this particular non-sentient native species experiences a change in eye color when they start to mature, going from blue to yellow. At that stage of life, they can start to emit a kind of focused soundwave that is too quiet for most sentient species to hear. They do this primarily when threatened in order to defend themselves against predators, like the mighty Krayt Dragon! Ours is a juvenile but he can still do some preeeeetty serious damage with it."

As if in response to the complete and utter nonsense being spewed out for everyone in vicinity to drink in like the weak-minded, brainwashed idiots that they were, the Force began to ripple.

"Move, you little freak!" someone crowed, lobbing another small rock. This one hit the child in the face, splitting his lip.

The boy lifted an arm to try and protect his face and the other flew out in front of him as though he were reaching -

The Dark Side hissed in anger and snapped outwards in a desperate fury. The same piece of filth who threw the rock began to hack and choke. The crowd began laughing, excited by what was happening. A few people, friends perhaps, pounded the individual on the back as he fought to breathe, treating the whole thing like it was a joke .

"Oh, oh! There we go folks! Look at that stunning display, isn't it remarkable?"

Remarkable.

It was foul.

Absolutely despicable and disgusting.

"Now, don't panic folks. While completely nonverbal, this savage species is capable of learning some simple commands - take a look!"

The stuffed peacock in the arena immediately snapped his fingers, issuing a firm verbal order to stop.

Nothing happened.

The man in the crowd was beginning to grow red in the face and some hints of unease were popping up in the Force.

"That's enough," the handler said again, stepping forward. His dark eyes flickered back and forth between the boy and the man currently choking.

Again, the boy didn't seem to hear the command. Or if he did, he chose to ignore it entirely.

His chest was heaving and his yellow eyes glared with unnerving intensity into the crowd. Vader could sense how badly he wanted someone to suffer - how badly he wanted the laughter to just stop .

"Hey man, he's gonna kill him - " someone shouted uneasily.

As Vader watched, the handler stepped forward and stomped on the chain connected to the boy's collar.

The Dark Side puttered out in an instant. The boy collapsed in a miserable heap, stunned and gasping desperately for air while relieved laughter rang out around them once again.

"I said enough, you little worm!" the handler snapped, kicking the boy in the side.

Faint echoes of pain pain pain flickered around Vader in the Force as well as the frantic impression of not being able to breathe.

"Ah heh, looks like we'll have to work on those simple commands, won't we folks?"

The onlookers boo- ed, laughing and jeering as they threw more trash and rotten food at the boy. The handler came forward with his electrostaff and jabbed him in one of his thighs.

Electricity sparked and crackled on a high voltage for a few seconds longer than necessary. It struck Vader then that the child wasn't making any noise. And then the electrostaff was pulled back again and the child slumped to the ground, visibly shaking and coughing weakly.

"Get up!"

It took a few seconds before the boy rolled weakly onto his side, clutching at his left arm. When he'd collapsed, he'd landed on broken glass and plenty of nasty shards had embedded themselves deep into his arm. Blood spilled out between his fingers and slid down the length of his arm and then onto the floor.

Vader sensed when Dark threads of power were clumsily pulled on once again. But there was no finesse to any of it - no pre-established training, no method or skill involved in the action at all. The child knew nothing.

He hadn't found a Sith.

Just an angry, frightened, Force-sensitive child who was clawing madly at Dark threads of power in a desperate attempt to survive.

He was using his anger and fear as a shield, if only to help him endure his own pain and suffering. Dirt was kicked in his face and the child stumbled backwards as more things were thrown at him, trying to get out of the line of fire. He finally sagged against the side of the wheeled cage, wincing and ducking into himself as things continued to hit him, clutching at his arm.

"Move, you wretch!"

The handler stooped to pick up another small rock from the ground and threw it at him harshly.

Once again, Vader felt the Dark Side tremble and lash outwards, but with no particular target this time.

The boy twisted in pain and anger, baring his teeth and lunging at the handler. The older man stepped just out of reach and quickly jabbed his electrostaff into the boy's side. It sent him to his knees, his back arching in agony before slumping forward and bracing himself on his hands and knees when the shock of pain stopped just as quickly. Ragged gasps for breath were the only sound he made.

This whole venture had been a waste of his time and Vader had seen enough of this sick depravity. Fuming with anger, he stepped into the open arena, igniting his lightsaber.

Just the same as before, the crowd grew utterly silent at the sight of him.

"Get out," Vader ordered stiffly. "All of you. Now."

The large crowd of attendees immediately stood and fled for the exit. A few rougher looking patrons hesitated, annoyed and frustrated with the interruption of their fun. But after a few seconds, wisely seemed to decide that Vader was not a fight that they wanted to get involved in and they quickly made their way outside as well.

Two of his stormtroopers remained back to ensure that everyone left and the other four flanked him as he marched forward.

The stuffed peacock in the ring stumbled backwards, dropping his electrostaff with wide eyes.

"You are in violation of Imperial Law," Vader snapped, his voice booming.

"I, I - I don't know what you are - " the man stuttered. Vader could practically hear his heart pounding and fear slithered its way into the Force and he interrupted before he could finish.

"Be silent. I do not have the time or the patience to hear your pathetic ramblings. All Force sensitives, be they children or otherwise, are to be reported and turned over to the Empire under pain of death."

The clacking of stormtrooper armor suddenly sounded as one of them turned around, raising his weapon at high ready. "Sir, keep your distance or you will be shot!"

Another man had appeared, rushing across the arena towards them. He froze as several blaster rifles were aimed his way and raised his hands. He was dressed in similar, if somewhat less extravagant clothes and bore a striking resemblance to the handler.

"Wait, wait! My name is Julian and that's my brother, Eli! We own this place." The newcomer said pleadingly.

Vader glared at him for a few seconds and then gestured to his men that he could approach.

Julian approached, adjusting the collar of his shirt nervously. "Eli, what's going on?" he asked, though he kept his eyes on Vader. "Are we in trouble?"

"Yes," Vader snapped.

The first man - Eli, apparently, shifted on the balls of his feet and eyed his lightsaber for a long moment before glancing at his brother. "Um, Lord… Vader was just saying that we are in violation of Imperial Law."

"For what?"

Vader lifted a finger and pointed it at the child still huddled against the rolling cage. "That boy is Force sensitive."

Julian's eyes widened slightly and he slowly turned his head to stare at the child. He was watching them all with an uncertain expression.

"Force sensitive?" Julian murmured. His eyes flickered back to Vader. "Well, I suppose that does answer a few questions we had."

"You dare claim ignorance?"

Julian shrugged his shoulders and then pulled out a cigarette and lit the end of it before popping it into his mouth. "Never had any interactions with a Force sensitive before. Didn't even know there was any left. We thought the Empire got rid of 'em all."

It irked Vader to the core that he could sense that what he said wasn't actually a lie. It wasn't a perfect truth either but if he'd known anything, it had been suspicions at best.

It didn't explain how a damn circus had one of the most powerful Force sensitives that Vader had felt in over a decade in their possession. And as completely detestable as these two pieces of filth were, Vader wanted all the details he could get before he killed them both, just so he could be sure that there was no one else that could pose a threat to him in the future.

"Where did you get him from?"

Julian shrugged, blowing a puff of smoke into the air. "Bought him off a dealer from Tatooine a few years ago. Paid a hefty price for him too."

Tatooine.

That wretched, miserable dustball of a planet.

It seemed that there had been a small facet of truth in the earlier commentary, after all. The stupid hint of knowledge made him dislike the boy even more, if only because it was disturbingly close to matching his own personal history.

"We paid good credits for it too," Eli suddenly spoke up, emboldened now by the presence of his brother. "Folks pay a lot to come and see that thing perform. Does lots of things they've never seen before. He's our main source of revenue."

"You gotta make him angry," Julian agreed. "Hurt him, get it all riled up and frustrated - that's when the fun starts. Little freak can make the ground shake. The whole tent will rattle, the animals go nuts, people start to choke. It's even broken bones. Thrill seekers get a kick out of it. No one ever knows what will happen or who it will happen to - the audience just eats it up."

"I don't care about your revenue, " Vader hissed in disgust. He gestured for his men to come forward and without needing exact orders, they ushered them both backwards so that they couldn't interfere. "And your ignorance of the crime at hand is not a valid excuse."

The stuttering protests immediately began but Vader tuned them out. He didn't care and they would both be executed as soon as he was done with his original mission. He turned to glare at the child instead and found that the boy was staring at him now, with fearful curiosity even as he remained huddled on the ground and clutching his wounded arm.

It was a pathetic sight.

The boy might not be a Sith but he was powerful enough for Sidious to have sensed from across the galaxy and it made him dangerous. His orders were to deal with the problem and Vader hadn't survived this long only to be replaced, and especially not by a child.

The chain leading to the boy's collar snapped and Vader clenched his fist, jerking the boy towards him by the throat. He hovered in the air directly in front of him and Vader watched dispassionately as the boy gasped desperately for air that he couldn't get. His hair was blond, scraggly and long - contributing to his wild appearance. The paint on his face hid some of his features but Vader still thought his face was familiar somehow.

In the strangest way, the child made him think of himself from so long ago.

The similarity disturbed him, as fleeting of a thought as it was.

Dropping him on the ground, Vader pushed the boy into a kneeling position and brought his lightsaber forward . At his feet, the slave glared up at him with a weak sort of resignation in his yellow eyes. His chest was heaving but hurt and exhaustion kept him still.

In the Force, Vader could sense that for all the fight the child had inside of him, some part of him just wanted it all to end.

Good.

Vader drew the blade back, preparing to separate head from shoulder and be done with it all when the Force suddenly whispered … no.

He paused, surprised.

Don't, the Force whispered again. Don't do it.

Why not? Vader demanded.

He had killed hundreds - thousands, even. Why should this boy be different from the others?

There was no answer and in all fairness, he hadn't expected one.

The Force rarely worked that way.

Vader wracked his brain, trying to understand.

But… the boy was powerful.

Vader could feel it; all of the untapped, untrained potential thrumming unknowingly in the Force. As detestable as the Mashaw brothers were, they had unwittingly begun to create a powerful potential Sith Lord. Under Sidious's control, the boy would eventually be the competition he feared… but perhaps… perhaps Vader could hide him for a while and send the boy to the Inquisitors. Have him shaped into a tool that could be used and directed. Once he was broken-in, Vader could train him personally and take him as an apprentice.

If he played his cards carefully, with the boy's help, he could rid the galaxy of Sidious entirely and take it for himself.

Mind suddenly alight with the idea, Vader appraised the child at his feet more carefully now.

Yellow eyes glared weakly up at him still. Fear and anger darkened the Force and Vader could feel the boy pulling on the Dark Side in that same clumsy, untrained sort of way as if hoping it might shield him from further harm.

Anger.

Pain.

Power.

Everything he needed was already present except for loyalty and he had practiced gaining loyalty for years, whether it was given willingly or not.

It could be done.

If he kept the boy from Sidious' knowledge… it was possible.

The Grand Inquisitor would be able to kickstart the process, teaching him the basics while Vader played his cards as a loyal servant to Sidious.

An Inquisitor was a tool though.

An Apprentice… an Apprentice was something different - he would need to be treated differently too.

"What is your name?" Vader demanded. He felt his own anger spike when there wasn't an immediate response. He had no patience for disobedience or disrespect and he was more than willing to teach that lesson immediately. He slowly leveled his blade at the boy's throat, letting it hover just inches from his skin. "Tell me."

The boy swallowed nervously, sweat slowly dripping down his temples as the suspense of the moment seemed to eat at him.

"It doesn't speak," Julian suddenly spoke.

Vader turned his head to glare at the man.

"What?"

"It… it doesn't speak. Not anymore, at least. I had its vocal cords clipped."

For a moment, even Vader felt stunned.

The casual, uncaring, unfeeling attitude towards something that was so distinctly inhumane was astounding.

When he hurt others, it had purpose. And if there was no purpose, then he didn't bother with torture - he just made it quick.

He never did it for something so insignificant as credits, either.

Without his permission, a hazy image painted itself in his mind of the child before him now, a little younger and utterly terrified, struggling desperately against multiple sets of hands holding him down as someone in a mask and white gown came towards him with a set of medical instruments.

Vader chased the image away, uncomfortable and frustrated yet again with another disturbing similarity between him and this child.

"It added to the theatrics of the show," Eli added. "No one comes here wanting to see a kid get hurt. It eats at their conscience, nasty bastards that they are anyways. But an animal… someone that can't talk, something that sells the idea of non-sentience… well, that's easier to work with. Besides… it was getting mouthy."

"Mouthy?" one of his troopers suddenly snapped. It was Kix, Vader realized distantly. He would be so bold. Vader raised a hand, silencing him, though rage from multiple sources bubbled up in the Force.

Julian gave them a cold look. "Yeah. Mouthy," he agreed. "Things started to happen – after a while, if the little brat got angry enough, he could make people do things. Control 'em, even just by trying to tell them what to do. It was dangerous. So, we dealt with the problem."

Mind tricks.

Powerful mind tricks, if they were accomplished by a child with no true concept of either the Force or what he was doing.

It was impressive.

Vader glanced at the boy once more. His emotions were rolling in the Force now - shame, hatred, misery, fear, grief - he was unknowingly projecting everything he felt for anyone to hear. It was no wonder Sidious had become aware of him .

His Force presence was cloudy, darkened by cruelty and his own hate and sorrow. The boy looked up at him from his lashes, waiting - almost daring him to finish what he'd come here to do.

Don't kill him, the Force whispered once more.

"What else do you know about him?" Vader asked instead.

Julian took in another puff of smoke from his cigarette and held it in for a few seconds before blowing it out lazily. "I don't exactly have the damn thing's pedigree."

"You have enough," Vader said coldly, knowing it was true.

Slavers were a cruel breed of people and even if they cared nothing about the slaves they owned, even if they beat them and starved them and rented them out for money and ultimately planned to throw the rotting carcass in the trash once their slave finally died or just gave up entirely… they cared about the investment that went into them. They kept records.

And that was what Vader wanted.

He wanted to know why this child was important. And he knew that if he could track this little brat down, then others could too. Sidious could.

Vader wanted to eliminate the paper trail on the boy entirely, if only to save himself that much more time to train him.

"What do you know about keeping slaves?" the man finally spat, his irritation and anger finally getting the better of him. He tossed his cigarette on the ground, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he glared at them.

His stormtroopers reacted perfectly, raising their weapons, prepared to fire at the first sign of attack.

It was unnecessary on their part, but their loyalty was appreciated nonetheless.

"We run a business and you and your fucking Empire come here, spouting off about the Force and planning to take our property when you know damn well that slavery is perfectly legal and expecting me and my brother to give you answers to whatever you feel entitled to know - "

Vader clenched a fist and seized Julian by his throat in the Force, feeling black with his own rage now. The air around them grew dark and cold.

"Do not," Vader hissed murderously. "Speak to me so insolently. If you want to live then you will tell me everything I want to know. Or else I will tear you to pieces and leave you for the ants."

Terror flooded the Force like an electric surge and the Dark Side almost seemed to cackle, absorbing it with a greedy sort of pleasure. Vader kept his Force grip on Julian's throat, just to watch him panic, grinding the bones ever so slightly…

"We don't know that much!" Eli begged desperately, held back from interfering by one of the stormtroopers. "Truly, we don't! But - but the surname was Skywalker!"

Vader froze and it felt the universe stutter around him as pure, unadulterated shock struck him to the core.

" What did you say?" he choked out, spinning back to Eli with sudden desperate fury.

Because that – that was impossible.

That name was impossible.

"Skywalker."

Vader looked back at the boy he'd left kneeling on the floor, heart suddenly pounding.

Scars and the evidence of years and years of abuse littered his skin.

The Force potential.

Skywalker.

Long, scraggly blonde hair.

Tatooine.

Skywalker.

"...a change in eye color… blue to yellow…."

Your son, the Force whispered softly, finally giving him the answer he'd been seeking. He's your son.

In an instant, something grew bright in his mind - a previously unrecognized, dormant Force connection slipped into place, still unrealized on one end.

It took a few seconds for him to overcome his shock and then, with a roar of anguish, Vader spun and with a single stroke, took Julian's head off and watched it roll. Hatred and agony blinded him. He heard screaming and shouting from others - guards, there had been armed guards when he walked in - somewhere close by but it was lost in the sudden flurry of movement as he was blocking blaster fire and redirecting it every which way.

The only clear thought in his head was that he couldn't move – he kept himself positioned in front of the child – his child – still kneeling pathetically on the floor so that no one else could touch him.

Skywalker.

Skywalker.

Skywalker.

The guards were nothing and they died quickly, hit with their own blaster fire or crushed in the Force as Vader swept his presence outwards, killing everyone he could get his hands on, including those people who'd gone outside.

Everyone would pay for this.

Life forces flickered out in the Force quicker than bubble wrap popping under a child's prancing feet and it had never satisfied him less.

Vader waved his hand and threw Julian's dead corpse out of his way. It landed with a sick, audible thump a few yards away.

Eli, that scum - he stood frozen, restrained between two of his men, staring in shocked disbelief at the carnage that surrounded them.

Vader stepped towards him, seething with unbridled rage.

How dare they?

Eli's eyes flickered to him and he opened his mouth to undoubtedly utter some pathetic plea for mercy.

Lifting his lightsaber, Vader skewered him in the gut, through and through, and didn't feel an inch of satisfaction even as his blade began to cook him from the inside out. Vader let him endure the heat for a few seconds, let him experience the agony of feeling his blood begin to boil before ripping his blade out once again and then cleaving him in half.

He glowered down at the dead pieces of him, wishing he could spit on the corpse.

Fear had finally gotten the better of his… his son and Vader saw from the corner of his eye as he tried to scramble backwards from where he'd been kneeling on the floor, trying to get away from the carnage. Two of his stormtroopers lunged for him, snapping a pair of binders on his wrists and then pulling him up to his feet between them.

Terror and desperate anger, pounding like a rapidly beating heart, flickered anew in the Force and Vader felt the Dark Side surrounding him in a fluttering, terrified sort of way.

He hesitated to turn and face his son directly. His hands were shaking at the very thought. He was, for the first time in a very long time, terrified to look and be forced to see what his failures had created.

His child – her child – had survived.

Vader felt the truth of it in the Force.

His child.

His son.

Vader didn't even know what his name was.

…how was this even possible?

"Release him." Vader said hoarsely, forcing himself to turn and see.

One of his stormtroopers glanced at the other. Then they let his child go, taking a few steps back to give them some space.

The boy stood before him now and for a long moment, Vader could only stare at him. All the things that had made him sneer in annoyed disgust twenty-five minutes ago now made his heart hurt with some foreign emotion he didn't have a name for.

The boy was small for his age – sixteen, he would be sixteen now - malnourished and abused and pale from a lack of exposure to the sun… and if he'd truly grown up on Tatooine, then it spoke volumes as to how long he'd been off that planet.

What had happened in his short life to bring him to this place?

The boy kept his bound wrists raised up towards his face and he glared at him with angry, suspicious eyes, standing his ground with as much boldness as he dared. Fear and unease rippled in the Force and Vader didn't think it would take much to cow him into submission. But the fact that he had the will and desire to fight at all when the odds were stacked so high against him was a testament to his strong spirit.

Vader took a step closer and then another and another, until he was just within arms length of his son. He could feel his longing to bolt and get out of the way of danger but on the outside, he merely stiffened as Vader began to encroach in his space.

With a slight wave of his hands, the binders the boy had been placed in unlocked. After everything he had just witnessed, he couldn't bear the thought of somehow adding to the torment.

The boy's yellow eyes flickered downwards for a brief second and Vader could feel his confusion even as he shook the binders off completely.

Vader was ready when the boy almost immediately swung a fist at him – he caught it easily and was quick to shift his grip for a better hold on his son's wrist. Some part of him was impressed, despite everything – few people, even those expertly trained with years of experience behind them, had the nerve or daring to try and attack him.

Were it anyone else, they would have already lost their arm and probably their life as well.

He kept his grip firm but made a point not to squeeze, only restrain.

His son.

This boy was his son.

How was this possible?

"What… what is your name?" Vader choked out, cursing immediately how harsh and modulated his voice was. It conveyed none of the emotion that he was actually feeling.

His son – his son –

The boy's face twisted into an expression of near outrage and Vader felt the Dark Side ripple uneasily.

"Tell me with your thoughts," Vader instructed, trying desperately to lower his voice and sound non-threatening. It wouldn't work – he knew it wouldn't work, not really. He'd tried desperately for months after Sidious had shoved him inside this suit to express emotion in his voice and he couldn't.

It hadn't worked then and it wouldn't work now.

Not this way at least.

Like this, he whispered, when the child only stared at him uncomprehendingly, and Vader was never more grateful for the Force than he was in this moment. He touched their Force bond gently and it thrummed like a string between them.

He knew that he was heard and felt his son's Force presence shift in surprise.

There was a moment of hesitation – time felt suspended, meaningless and then –

I… like this?

Vader felt breathless and his lips twitched into his first genuine smile in over fifteen years, even as he felt a pain sharper than any knife could ever be pierce his heart at the sound of his son's Force voice.

He sounded so young.

Vader closed his eyes for a long moment, thinking that he would cry if his eyes hadn't been ruined all those years ago on Mustafar.

Yes, Vader choked out instead. Just like that. Tell me your name, little one.

There was a long moment of hesitation and even as anticipation threatened to undo him entirely, Vader understood the sacredness of a name to a slave. Memories and slave culture came back to his mind easily, from a time long dead in his memory and he knew… he knew that names were all they had. They were protected and cherished above everything but family.

Considering all that must have been taken from him, his son would not give it up easily.

True to form, the child shook his head.

No.

His yellow eyes briefly flickered away to look at the ruined corpses of the masters who'd kept him. There was no sorrow for them anywhere in the Force. Only a grim satisfaction mixed with an uneasy fear of experiencing the same fate.

The child was prepared to experience it - expected it, even. And Vader was suddenly perfectly confident that no amount of fear or pain could convince him to give up his name. But the boy dreaded the pain all the same.

Vader hated that he understood the feeling.

You're like me, his son said suddenly, his eyes coming back to look at him. In the strangest way, they found his own and met them perfectly even through the mask.

Few people had ever been able to do that.

Vader swallowed and then nodded. "Yes, I am."

A freak, his son spat the word out resentfully.

"No," Vader said instantly. "Not a freak. Force sensitive."

I don't know what that means, he hissed, trying to hide his fear behind anger. Let me go.

"Tell me your name first."

No.

"If you tell me yours, I will tell you mine," Vader offered quickly. Quid pro quo. Desert People never gave something for nothing. A name for a name seemed like a fair trade.

The boy narrowed his eyes and Vader was struck by how sharp and intense they were.

A slave, perhaps. Treated like an animal for who even knew how long. But far, far from being stupid.

His son was intelligent.

Vader could sense it.

"I won't hurt you," he promised softly.

The words sounded hollow and pathetic even to himself – he had already raised his blade at this child and had been prepared to take his head off and watch it roll. He wouldn't have felt an ounce of regret for it and his child knew it.

The Force was, perhaps, the only thing that saved him now – it rang with perfect truth and even his son, as completely untrained as he was, could feel and sense it too.

Vader could feel him considering the offer.

Why would I want your name? he finally asked hesitantly.

"You will have to find out."

Silence fell between them and his son paused, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment.

After almost a minute, the boy finally answered.

Luke. It's… it's Luke.

Luke.

Lukka.

Lightbringer.

It was a Desert name. It was the name that he had chosen.

And it meant that Padme must have lived - even if just for a short time, long enough to have their child and name him and Vader's mind was reeling at the realization.

He had never dared to hope or dream - he had always thought, had always been led to believe that it had all ended on Mustafar. It hadn't.

Sidious had lied.

About everything.

His son - Luke - was proof of that now.

Vader lifted his free hand before he had consciously decided to do so, not noticing how Luke stiffened on instinct, and was stretching it out towards Luke's face – his son, his son

Don't touch me! Luke snarled angrily at him in sudden panic, trying in vain to wrench his arm out of his grip. Don't – don't you fucking touch me!

"Calm yourself," Vader said quickly. "Luke - "

LET ME GO!

Raw panic and blind anger flooded the Force and in an instant, Vader felt as though he had been kicked by a raging bantha. The air escaped from his lungs and the damn respirator stalled as he struggled to breathe.

Luke's Force presence pressed down on him as if it were trying to stomp him out of existence, wild and angry and scared, and for a moment, Vader was so stunned by the power of it that he forgot to react.

His men did not and he heard frantic orders being shouted to assist. White armor appeared in his line of vision in just seconds and Luke's Force presence shifted off of him in an instant as the butt of a rifle was slammed in between his shoulders blades and knocked him to the ground.

Air flooded his lungs and his respirator started up again.

Luke was trying to regain his feet, unwilling to stay on the ground where he no doubt felt most vulnerable and the rifle was being raised to strike him again.

"No, don't!" Vader snapped, throwing a hand out to stop and freezing the stormtrooper in place. It took everything that he had to not throw everyone backwards.

All of them were loyal to him before anyone else and were only acting on their loyalty. That was something that he had never been able to bring himself to punish.

Releasing his Force grip slowly, his trooper stumbled backwards and Vader immediately turned his attention back to Luke. He was scrambling to try and find the Force again but pain kept his focus too scattered to do it properly.

Angry tears had formed in his eyes and he was inching backwards, eyeing everyone with distrust and suspicion.

Relax, Vader commanded, stepping towards him again.

Luke struggled, his mind desperately trying to rebel against the suggestion - but slowly, it sank deep into his mind, forcing him to be calm. His body sagged, lacking the strength needed to hold himself up. Vader reached out and gripped his uninjured arm by the bicep and helped guide him to the ground before sinking down with him.

Luke trembled, pale and weak. His damaged arm was a terrible mess, still stuck with shards of glass and leaking blood onto the floor. It seemed to be the worst of his immediate injuries.

"Just be calm. I will not hurt you," Vader said again, whispering safe relax peace across the fledgling Force bond between them.

His son glared up at him. Don't touch me, he warned, sniffing pitifully, and after a moment, his expression cracked into something that was desperate and broken. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand even as more stubbornly began to fall. Don't touch me.

Sixteen years old.

Still a child. The victim of terrible cruelty and an unforgiving galaxy.

And he was just scared.

"I did not mean to frighten you. Nor was I intending to hurt you." Vader tried to assure.

Luke only looked away, shivering and reluctant to believe him. He remained tense, wary of being hurt. A bruise was forming on his face where he'd been struck with a rock and other injuries - both old and new - were much more apparent up close.

"Lord Vader?" He lifted his eyes for a moment and to his surprise, it was Kix, holding out a blanket.

Vader accepted it and took a moment to spread it over Luke's shoulders and wrap it around him. He stiffened, tense and wary of a false kindness. But after a few seconds, he pulled the edges of the blanket around him with his uninjured arm.

I don't understand, Luke whispered after a few seconds, tears streaming from his yellow eyes. You were going to kill me.

"Yes, I was." Vader agreed sadly. "And I'm sorry. I would never have - if I had known…"

He trailed off, unable to finish.

The excuse felt weak and pathetic.

It was weak and pathetic.

Luke seemed to sense his thoughts and stared at him with slight confusion. Known what?

"I told you… that I would tell you my name," Vader reminded him. "You would be one of the only people in the whole galaxy who knows what my name is. Would you like me to tell you?"

A name for a name.

A truth for a truth.

Perhaps it was the only thing that might convince his son that he could be safe with him. Luke had no reason to trust him or anyone else - Vader had been going to kill him and they both knew it.

Vader had wealth and power and legions of men that would follow him to the end of the galaxy and none of it was worth anything. It certainly wouldn't mean anything to Luke if he didn't know who it was that was offering.

Luke blinked, staring at him tiredly. …alright.

Vader nodded once and took a second to build up the courage.

"My name is Anakin Skywalker," Vader admitted. It was the first time he'd said that name in almost sixteen years and it felt like ash on his tongue.

Luke froze, his yellow eyes flying over him, taking in every inch of his intimidating form, wide with disbelief.

Some part of Vader was relieved that his son knew his father's name. Whoever had raised his son, whoever had had him before he was stolen off that damn planet, had taken the time to tell him.

You're lying, Luke accused, shaking his head. He was trembling now, head to foot and his Force presence came and pressed against him as if Luke were trying to push him away. They… they called you Lord Vader.

Vader brushed him away gently in the Force and shook his head once. "I am known as Darth Vader now, that is true. But Anakin Skywalker is my name."

But you're supposed to be dead.

Vader smiled sadly behind his mask even though it was far from being funny. So are you.

Luke shook his head, clutching at his hair with his good hand as his chest began to heave. They told me. They all said… that you had died.

There was nothing that Vader could say to that.

Relax, Vader whispered instead, trying to stave off what felt like a rising panic attack. He moved slowly, stretching his hand out again and was relieved when this time, Luke didn't move back. He stiffened, chest still heaving, but held still. Vader turned Luke's head slightly to the side and started to undo the clasp for the leather collar around his throat.

The skin underneath was marked and scarred. He peeled it away gently and tossed it aside. With it gone, he could see the surgical scar where they'd cut his vocal cords and left his son mute for the sake of credits and entertainment.

It never should have happened.

If Vader hadn't… if he hadn't done so many things wrong… then it never would have.

Luke lifted his hand, tentatively touching the skin of neck with the very tips of his fingers, almost as if he didn't believe that the collar itself could be gone.

"Your arm is hurt," Vader continued, gesturing to his still sluggishly bleeding arm. The shards of glass had gone in deep and Luke was holding it awkwardly at his side. "May I?"

His son glanced down at his arm for a moment and then met his eyes again. Vader couldn't name the emotion that he was feeling now - it seemed as though he was feeling many things all at once.

Very slowly, Luke nodded.

"Kix, bring me something," Vader ordered over his shoulder, using every ounce of self control that he had to try and sound calm. "Now."

Kix appeared quickly. He had removed his helmet and his eyes lingered on Vader for a few seconds too long. "Sir," he said, offering him a medical bag.

Vader accepted it and rifled through it quickly, finding some basic equipment and pulling it out. Kix backed off a little, but didn't go too far. His eyes and thoughts were flickering between Vader and Luke with stunned disbelief.

He took Luke's arm and shifted it carefully. "This will hurt," Vader warned before quickly prying the glass out and dropping it on the dirt next to him. Blood seeped out from the wound, dark red and fast. Luke only winced, turning his face away so that he didn't have to see it.

Vader made quick work of the other pieces and pulled the smallest pieces out with the Force, just to be sure that he missed nothing before wrapping a tourniquet above the deepest cut and tightening it to stem the blood flow. Then, he took the gauze and wrapped Luke's arm as best as he could.

More tears slipped out of Luke's eyes and he looked up at Vader again, his eyes searching and desperate.

Are you really Anakin?

"Yes, I am."

Luke's thoughts raced and dozens of flickering questions whispered along their bond, too fast for Vader to catch, none of them intentionally shared.

I'm sorry.

Vader paused. "What could you possibly be sorry for?"

His son shook his head, feeling as though he were growing more unhinged by the second. He lifted his hand to his neck again.

They… they broke me. Luke admitted in a shameful whisper.

Death had been too merciful, Vader decided abruptly, feeling his heart break. He knew better than anyone that being forced to live was worse than death.

Vader should have kept both of them alive and fed them to a Sarlaac.

The stupid war paint on Luke's face was smeared from sweat and tears. Vader carefully took the edge of the blanket around his shoulders and began wiping it off with all the gentleness that he could manage.

He looked so young. So, pitifully young and frightened.

Whatever life he had lived the last few years, it had been nothing but cruel to him. He was hurt and had been treated like nothing but an animal.

Just a cruel source of entertainment for horrible, horrible people.

They broke me too. Vader admitted.

A breathless sound worked its way out of Luke's throat and he leaned forwards, bowing his head against Vader's chest and began to sob terrible, heart wrenchingly silent sobs.

Vader pulled Luke up against him and hugged him fiercely. He pressed all the love and sorrow and regret that he dared allow himself to feel and shared it along their bond, whispering silent apologies and promises of safety.

Luke melted against him, his fingers clinging desperately to his suit while he shook, finally free to break down without fear of getting hurt.

"I have you, Luke," Vader whispered. "It's alright. I have you now. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I want to go home, Luke cried desperately against him. Father, I want to go home - I want Beru. Owen, both of them, I just want to go home!

Home.

Tatooine.

The selfish part of his mind rebelled at the idea of letting Luke out of his sight for even a second.

Luke was his child. His son, his family - his responsibility to protect and defend.

And even if the ones who'd raised him were still alive, Luke wasn't safe. They would be not equipped to deal with a tortured Force sensitive child with developing inclinations towards the Dark Side.

Luke was dangerous and Vader knew deep down that he needed a teacher if he was going to survive going forwards. Someone that could help him control his developing power and who could protect him from himself while he learned and healed.

"Are they still there?" Vader asked softly.

I, I don't know. Luke cried, sobbing even harder. I don't know what happened. It was - it was a long time ago now. I just don't know -

"I will find out for you," Vader promised fiercely. "I promise you I will. Let me take you somewhere safe and I promise you Luke, I will find out what happened to them."

Gratitude and hope fluttered along their bond - faint, as if Luke didn't have the strength to hope for very much anymore, but definitely there.

Really?

"Yes. Now let me get you out of here. Come on," Vader said ,petting Luke's hair for a brief moment. He had a feeling that Luke would be willing to sit and cry for hours, given all that he had been through and Vader would certainly give him that chance. But for now, he acted quickly, bundling Luke's Force presence up and tucking it away inside of his own where it would be difficult for anyone else to find. Then, he adjusted Luke against him and did his best to swaddle him in the blanket that he'd been offered and whispered sleep, watching as his son's tear filled eyes fluttered shut and he drifted into sleep. Then he hefted him up into his arms and began striding for the exit.

Vader was more than ready to set this wretched place on fire and get off this planet.

Plans began forming in his mind, aspirations of things that he'd occasionally thought of but never had the motivation to pursue until just now. There had never been a reason to pursue them and in some regard, Sidious had been right when he'd said that Vader had lacked ambition.

But he had someone again - someone that mattered more than anything or anyone and who he would fight to protect with his very last breath.

He would get Luke the help that he needed and get him someplace safe where he could start to recover.

Then Sidious would die.

---

A/N I am an evil person.

And with this posted piece of evil perfection, I can finally say that the next posted work I put out will be chapter 8 of 'What Lurks in the Dark'. Thank you for your incredible patience while I've struggled with writers block for it and have been busy with many aspects of life in general.