Hello all, a new part is coming your way. Thank you to all my reviewers.
When last we left Anakin, he had lost his use of the Force, lost his sight and voice and is now unable to feel (physical) pain. 3 years have passed since part 5.
Part 6
Time lost meaning as the only things he could do were listen to medical machinery and people speaking during his waking moments and brood over his past. A past that couldn't be changed. Then, there was sleep, a sleep that was full of nightmares, demons. The voices of the dead taunted him, mocked him, squeezing at him to choke what remained of his soul into a dark abyss. There was a sound, loud and rasping, mechanical, but he could not determine what the source was.
Day, night, hot, cold, none of those things mattered anymore. Whether he was on his back, side, or stomach, he could not tell and didn't care to know. Sounds were his only companion, the only thing distracting him from his painful memories that came in the silence.
"Anakin."
A familiar voice, strong, clear, one with authority. A voice of a friend, betrayer, Master, enemy, brother, father. Still here…remaining…why?
"Luke wanted to come see you, today."
"Da da!"
Luke? Baby Luke? His Luke? Talking now? His blank gaze continued staring up, his body remaining motionless. No, no…go. I'm only a shell, only a shell.
"Da da hurt?"
Hurt? Yes, a soul rendering wound continuing to ooze black puss. A wound that would not heal. Betrayer, fallen, disgraced, stripped, shattered. Anakin retreated deep inside of himself till the voice became an unintelligible whisper. He would not stain another innocent.
Yet somewhere, deep within, something stirred, a tendril of curiosity in the midst of the chaos. The voice: sweet, innocent. Why expose such innocent to scum like himself?
Anger coiled and twisted in his stomach, his hands became fists, his fingernails piercing his skin, drawing blood but he could not feel it, could not feel the pain, could not feel calloused hands gently prying his fists open to place an object into each of his hands that he could squeeze without injuring himself. He knew none of this, words went unspoken from the one caring for him. He could not see the pained look in the other's eyes. Words went unsaid, time slipped away like a slippery eel, the nightmares came.
Voiceless screams issued from a wide open mouth, lips chapped, dry, bleeding. Violent movement against restraints: bruising, cutting, bleeding. Sounds flooded his ears with a howl, shattering the demons, shattering the nightmares that plagued him.
The shrill alarm mellowed out until it became a repetition of da da…Da Da…DA DA…DA DA!
Down, down. Down deep in the murky depths of memories, of haunted faces, heated words, battles, mutilated bodies.
"Once upon a time—"
The voice drew his attention upward, away from the memories.
"There was a lost Bantha cub-"
Memories of Tatooine flooded his mind and he remembered the Banthas he had seen as a kid. They were enormous four legged beasts, but for their size they were quite docile.
"-wandered away from his family."
A children's book. A simple tale told many times to children. A warning against wandering away. Oh, how he had wandered. No, that wasn't right. Ran. Ran into the pit of thistles and thorns, of agony and terror.
How can the fallen be saved, those who have done evil? How can those lost in the darkness be saved? Who would save those who have done evil and are no longer innocent?
"I'm sorry to interrupt, Master Kenobi, but you have an urgent incoming call."
"Thank you. Come on Luke, we can finish the story later."
"Stay."
"Luke," A note of warning in Obi-Wan's tone.
"We be back?"
"Yes, of course we will."
The voices faded and Anakin was alone again. But, didn't he deserve it? To remain lonely? But what was it that kept bringing Obi-Wan to his side? Someone who should hate him. Why would Obi-Wan allow Luke to even see his wretched father? Why?
Where there is love there is forgiveness.
Forgiveness? Pardon? Mercy? Same meaning, different words. Spoken and taught by his mom…a lesson he never paid heed to as evidenced by his life thus far. But how can you forgive when such hatred and anger sits within your heart? How can you love but not forgive?
His thoughts troubled him. There were questions deserving of an answer and questions that deserved to be asked. But was he strong enough? Was he brave enough? To ask and learn the answers?
Was he?
Was he?