Chapter 2: Fragments of Nightmare
Anakin Skywalker slowly woke, gradually becoming aware of his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was the presence near him: a brilliant entity radiating so much more pure Force than Anakin had ever felt from another person. Even he had never exuded such unadulterated power; his command of the Force was great, but always clouded slightly by his darker emotions.
The thought of darkness was disquieting, like a half-remembered nightmare; and yet, there was something—something he should remember. He tried to grasp it, but it slipped from his fingers, lost in the dazzling light of whoever it was who was near him. He was now awake enough that he could tell that the source of all that power was in the room with him, sitting beside him.
Curiosity forced his eyes open, searching the room: it was small and bare, with blank grey walls and ceiling. There was barely room between his bed and the wall for the chair on which was seated a tall slim young man with golden hair and clear blue eyes. Anakin studied his face for a moment, knowing immediately that this was the source of the blazing power he felt. He knew this face, and yet he didn't. Those blue eyes that were watching him so intently were intimately familiar to Anakin, yet he couldn't put a name to them.
He turned his head slightly, and the change in the young man was immediate. He leaned forward in his chair, his face breaking into a massive smile. "Father?" He put his hand on Anakin's shoulder and, just like that, Anakin knew his name.
"Luke," he whispered, and was appalled at the sound of his own voice: strained, hoarse, and old. He tried to clear his throat, but found he couldn't control those muscles. What had happened to him? He tried to think back, to remember, but again the memories slid away from his questing thoughts, swallowed up by the brilliant glow of power emanating from Luke. He did know his own name, and he knew the name Luke, but he didn't know who Luke was.
"How are you feeling?" Luke asked quietly.
"What…happened?" Anakin managed to ask.
"I got us away from the Death Star just as it exploded. We're safe now."
The Death Star? Another disturbing tremor rippled through his memory; the Death Star was part of the nightmare. He forced himself to speak again: "Where—?" But his damaged voice gave out.
Luke understood, however. "We're on the moon of Endor." He gently squeezed Anakin's shoulder. "It's okay; you can rest. We're safe here."
"Hey, Kid!"
Luke stopped just outside the old Imperial military barracks he was sharing with his father, and turned to face Han. Although he could tell by Han's emotional turmoil what this was about, he said nothing, only smiled in greeting.
"He's in there?" Han stopped and stared at the nondescript building, a mixture of awe and horror on his face.
Luke nodded. "He is."
"Are you crazy?" A shiver ran through Han's body, but he seemed unaware of it. His eyes never left the structure; he stared at the wall like he was trying to see through it.
"Maybe." Luke shook his head. "But I don't think so."
"Look, Kid, I trust your motives; I know you think you can save him." Han rubbed the back of his neck. "Leia told me he's your father. Of course you want to do what you can for him; but he's…he's Darth Vader, for frag's sake!"
"I know," Luke said softly. "But he's also Anakin Skywalker." He put a hand on Han's shoulder. "I have to try, Han."
Han sighed deeply. "I know. Just be careful, okay? And, Luke? We probably shouldn't tell anyone else that he's here, you know?"
Luke nodded thoughtfully. "You're right, of course. Thank you." He smiled and Han was surprised to feel a little of what Leia had tried to explain to him of the brilliance of Luke's power boosted by his joy. He almost had to look away, dazzled.
"Well, yeah. So, I gotta go talk to Chewie. Remember what I said, Kid." Feeling rather awkward now, Han turned and left.
Luke watched him go. Han was right; no one would understand why Vader was here. No one would believe that he had turned from the dark side. Anakin would have to prove himself, maybe over and over. Shaking his head, Luke forced such thoughts away; there was no room for anything else right now except for helping his father to heal. He entered the barracks, reaching out to Anakin as he came.