Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story! I so appreciate it. By the way, I'm aware Shmi's grave shouldn't be there. But I am choosing to include it for aesthetic reasons. The title "heretic" comes from Anakin being a heretic, both as a Sith and Jedi.
Darth. Obi-Wan had called him 'Darth.' It is his name. But then why does it shock him so?
Without the Empire, whole systems would be floundering in disorder and chaos. He has brought them peace and security! It is true that some had resisted and needed to be wiped out for the sake of the Empire's stability. And, yes, some had been pressed into involuntary servitude. In time, he would see to it that such things were abolished, but for now, it was a necessary evil. Because of the Empire's ordered society, more beings were free in the galaxy than had ever been before…
Surely…?
Surely it was all worth it.
If he were stronger, he would do as a true Apprentice would and overthrow Sidious. Then he would make everything right, and Obi-Wan…Obi-Wan would see what a truly just Empire could become!
But Sidious has made sure that such a thing will never come to pass.
Obi-Wan's healing has allowed him a modicum of respite, but he is suddenly ashamed to have received it. While this facsimile of strength lasts, he must get away from here before his presence endangers his son. He knows the effects will be short-lived. But even so, he hates it for reasons he cannot quite explain…
"Is everything alright, sir?" A young, shaking voice pipes up, interrupting his dark musings.
Luke!
His eyes fly open, and alight upon the glowing form of his son, illuminated in the sunshine streaming through the doorway.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, sir. I just…I heard yelling. It sounded like Ben was being mean to you. And then he looked real angry when walked out and…and—I mean, I can go if you want…"
"N-no…!" He rasps. "Please…come in."
His heart breaks as the boy steps toward him full of care and concern. If the boy had any idea of the blood he had spilled, of the way he had murdered the child's mother, he would go running in terror.
As it is, Anakin's desperation to drink in the sight of the boy drives him to rise on his elbows into sitting position. It takes more effort than it should, and he really should not expend what strength he has on such trivialities…but this may be one of the last times he'll ever see the child.
Luke shuffles toward him with all the hesitance of one approaching a wild animal, at once fascinated and concerned they might try to bite. In that, at least, the boy seems to have good sense.
"I…wanted to…see you, Luke."
"You did?" The child seems surprised and vaguely elated.
"Yes…I—to tell you…goodbye…"
He cringes as he says the words. The boy's face drops, and suddenly looks as though he might cry.
"It's because of what I said yesterday, isn't it?" There is a sob on the end of the sentence. "You don't want me anymore, do you?" Tears are forming in the child's eyes, and his small chest is beginning to heave with wracking sobs.
In distress, Anakin suddenly wishes he could take the boy in his arms and tell him that he doesn't ever want to leave him and that he would not if he could, but that there is not another way—!
It is then that a dagger of conviction pierces his heart as he realizes that there is another way.
Assuming he survives this ordeal, he does not have to leave the child.
"No, Luke! No! I want you…" He pauses to cough, even so, he extends a metal hand to touch the boy's shoulder, and is pleasantly surprised when the child doesn't flinch. "No…I just…I need to go somewhere where I can get better…"
"You're lying! Uncle Owen already went to get you a doctor. You're just leaving, and I won't ever see you again!" The boy sobs. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean to make you sick…I just…"
He's hyperventilating now, and Vader can do nothing but helplessly try to calm the crying child while barely being able to breathe himself.
"I know you're one of the bad men from the Emperor…" The boy blubbers. "…I heard Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen talking…I know…but please don't go…"
"Luke, look at me!" He bellows with more force than that to which his natural voice is accustomed. Obediently, the child meets his gaze. "I will come back for you. I love you. I love you more than you know!"
The words sound strange on his tongue; he has not spoken those words in more than a decade. He is a Sith, it is a heresy to love, but then again, Palpatine has always said he was a pathetic Sith. And why not embrace his title as apostate?
He pauses to take several gasping breaths, reaching for the Force to sustain the intensity of his emotions.
"You're right, son…I have—" He is getting dizzy again, but he doesn't have time to worry about that now. "—have done bad things. But I am going to make it right." He is no longer sure what he is even saying, but he speaks on instinct, recalling distantly what Obi-Wan might have told him when he was the same age.
He is coughing now, and Luke jumps worriedly to his feet, reaching for him but unsure what to do. He waves him off as best as he is able, ashamed to be so feeble in front of his son.
"…It's alright…L-Luke…I'm..."
As Luke looks at him in mute distress, he manages to gasp out what he had meant to tell him.
"…I am going to help…Obi—Ben's friends…to stop the Emperor…and then…I will come back for you…I promise…"
The boy's sniffles die down at that statement. At last, at least half-believing his father's words.
As he coughs again, he senses Obi-Wan's presence returning at a rapid pace. The old man must be worried he'd do something rash.
He supposes the worry is not altogether unfounded.
With a groan, he leans back against the wall, ruefully closing his eyes against the spinning room. He hates to take his eyes off his son, but it will not do to faint in front of him. He has scared the boy enough as it is…
"Luke!" He hears Obi-Wan exclaim. "What are you doing here...?!"
"I was just checking to see if everything was alright…you sounded like you were mad earlier." Luke sniffles over what remains of his tears. "He says he's going to help your friends but that afterward, he'll come back for me. Is that true, Ben?"
Anakin opens his eyes as he feels the fearful hope emanating from Obi-Wan's end of their bond.
"I don't know, Luke, that is up to your father." Obi-Wan says with pregnant implication, "Is that true?" Obi-Wan asks, shooting a poignant glance at Anakin.
After a moment, he nods briefly. His eyes never leave the hopeful face of his child.
"It is…"
"You're really coming back?!" The boy cries in exultation.
Anakin would burn down all the Empires in all the galaxies just to see the beaming smile that breaks across his son's face.
"I'll try—" he chokes, unwilling to promise what he cannot guarantee.
Before he quite knows, the child has flung himself toward him, his face smashing awkwardly into his chest panel, even as the boy wraps thin arms around his father's bandaged waist.
After recovering from the initial shock and force of his son's jubilance, Anakin's heart soars as he stares at the child.
"Careful, Luke." Obi-Wan's chides, his face touched but mildly concerned as he gently pulls some of the boy's weight off of his groaning parent. "Your father is still in bad shape. I am going to need to take him to see some special doctors before he can help us."
Leave him be. Anakin snaps mentally. The fact that the boy is so willing to touch his fetid body is nothing short of dumbfounding, and, painful or not, he wants to take all that he can of the affection that his son wants to give.
After too short of a moment, the sound of Beru's voice calling Luke's name echoes around them. And, with some hesitation, the boy withdraws from Anakin and slides off the pallet toward the door.
Vader's eyes drink him in, the sight of him, the way he moves, the lingering warmth of his touch. He wants to remember this small kindness from his child for the rest of his life, no matter how long or short it may be.
Obi-Wan knows the show of rigor he has put on for his son is nothing more than an illusion. And true to form, Vader crumples as soon as Luke's silhouette disappears up the corridor, his frame sinking into the pallet like a puppet whose strings have been cut.
The declaration that he will go with Obi-Wan is elating but also complicates matters.
What am I going to do with you? He asks with no small amount of weariness.
An eyebrow quirks with interest in his direction, but the expression on the scarred white face remains illegible.
Contact your rebels, Obi-Wan. And do it quickly. Even if I do not expire before we rendezvous, the Emperor's suspicions over my absence grow with every minute, and my intelligence will soon be obsolete.
With a reluctant nod, Obi-Wan turns quickly to retrieve his communicator and respond to Organa's message. It is clear Vader is not interested in providing any further explanation for his change of heart. Ultimately, he does not need to; the softness with which he had regarded his son says all that Obi-Wan needs to know.
When Organa answers his comm, the expression on his face is understandably thunderous. What Obi-Wan is suggesting might not only put the Alliance at risk, but also the well-being and safety of the Viceroy's beloved daughter.
Kenobi does not mention that Vader has been made aware of his children's survival, or even that such defection is, at least in part, motivated by concern for his children; after all, it is unlikely such information will produce a positive reaction in the already irate Organa.
Even so, Obi-Wan persuades him with the assurance that the Sith Lord is already on death's door and that, it is unlikely he will be any great threat to anyone, especially with Obi-Wan as his guard.
"Very well, Obi-Wan." Organa says, at last, pinching the bridge of his nose. "But let me make one thing clear; none of our resources will be spent on him until after interrogation."
Obi-Wan nods in understanding. He had expected as much. "I understand, Viceroy. However, you may not have a choice. If he dies, he will not be of any use to anyone."
With a sigh, Bail nods in reluctant understanding. "We shall see, Obi-Wan…we shall see…I am trusting you with this, just as I trusted you with the life of my child…Bring him to Alderaan, I will forge your papers and purpose for traveling."
The Viceroy's eyes suddenly harden as he peers through the viewscreen.
"But, remember this, Obi-Wan: Should he bring harm to any one of my people, or come anywhere near my daughter, so help me, there will not be a rock under which you will be able to hide."
And with that, the transmission goes black.
With a weary sigh, Obi-Wan scrubs his hand over his face, exhaustion throbbing in his bones. He cannot keep this game up forever. The sooner he gets Vader off this planet, the better. But he will have to be careful not to tell the Sith that they are going to Alderaan. It will not do for him to raise Vader's hopes of seeing his daughter, when Organa has already taken such a possibility off the table.
When he returns to Vader, the other has somehow already re-donned much of the imposing black armor, with the noticeable absence of the punctured plastoid girdle.
Vader says nothing as Obi-Wan hauls him to his feet, half dragging, half-carrying him from the store room and out into the light of the blazing suns.
Leaving the moisture farm proves easier than expected as it seems that Beru has taken Luke with her to fix one of the distant vaporators. And so, Obi-Wan leaves the credits that Vader has given him, along with a note explaining where the Lars family will be able to find their speeder bike.
He can only hope that by the time they arrive, the jawas will not yet have looted his ship.
"Will you be able to hang on?" Obi-Wan asks Vader skeptically as they exit the adobe and approach the small speeder parked outside. The only response is a shove of indignation pushed along their impossible connection.
He does not miss the way Anakin's eyes linger on a gravestone just beyond the home. But Obi-Wan knows better than to comment.
Vader regrets his pride almost as soon as the speeder jerks to life, all thoughts of his mother flitting from his mind. Without the support of his abdominal armor, his weakened muscles shudder and falter, and he finds himself clinging desperately to Obi-Wan's waist in an attempt to avoid sliding off.
A moment later, he feels a wall of warmth envelope him as Obi-Wan uses the Force to steady and press him tightly against his back.
As the wind whips the Jedi's hair into his face, Anakin swears he feels something old and tired but close to fond amusement fluttering from the depths of Obi-Wan's chest. It feels good and, for a moment, he almost shares in it.
It feels so familiar, so eerily similar to how they had ridden when he had been a new Padawan and Obi-Wan had seemed like his invincible Master. Early on, he had been too small to hold on properly, and so, 'frivolous' though he might have called it at the time, Obi-Wan had used the Force to keep him steady.
Before he realizes what he is doing, he finds himself laying his head on the Jedi's shoulder. Just as he had done when he had been a small boy.
Obi-Wan tenses when he feels the weight of Vader's head fall upon his back.
It is only there for a brief moment before Vader remembers himself and pulls away. But, even so, it feels like hope and faith rewarded. The pressure aggravates the bruises Vader has inflicted on him, both intentional and otherwise, but still the brief jolt of pain is bittersweet. He is so tired. So impossibly tired. And hope seems like a dangerous thing. But even so, he allows himself a moment of optimism.
No future is guaranteed, but he trusts that the Force has brought about this seeming miracle for reasons of its own and that he can do nothing but follow its guidance.
He does not understand Vader's blind adherence to a failing regime, nor does he fathom the depth of perversion in the relationship between Vader and his Sith Master. From what he has seen of Vader's half-rotted flesh and mangling suit, the Emperor has hobbled and harnessed him for his own purposes. And yet, Vader, impetuous emotional fool he is, has clung to the Emperor with the loyalty of a beaten cur.
It is a mystery he will never understand.
But perhaps, just maybe, he has the opportunity to prove to him that things could have been different.
The journey on the speeder is mercifully short and, much to Obi-Wan's apparent surprise, his ship is intact when they arrive.
Anakin does not mention the moment of déjà vu and, instead, stubbornly rises under his own power to board the rickety craft.
Obi-Wan's efforts at healing him are slowly beginning to wane, but he makes no mention of that fact. The old man can probably feel it anyway, in the same way that he can feel the way Obi-Wan's body aches with the blows he has inflicted. The ring of dark purple bruises on his throat is barely visible above his collar, but Anakin sees them all the same.
They catch his eyes when Obi-Wan turns to look at him as they settle into the cockpit. After a moment, Anakin hesitates and then turns away, unable to meet his gaze.
As his old Master turns over the craft's struggling engines, Vader steels himself and watches him out of the corner of his eye, taking a moment to consider him. Really consider him.
Obi-Wan has grown old.
In sudden curiosity, he fully opens his side of their bond, allowing the sensations of Obi-Wan's being to flood over him. Kenobi does not seem to notice, but, as they take off, Anakin is suddenly keenly aware of how Obi-Wan's heart pumps weakly in his chest. The muscle's strength diminished with age and exhaustion.
There is a deep ache in Obi-Wan's bones; his fingers twinge around the controls with arthritis and old injuries.
Strangely, there is a seemingly chronic pulsing in his hip from where it must have once been broken. Funny, Anakin does not remember Obi-Wan sustaining such an injury from the Clone Wars. After a moment, though, he recalls the Tusken's habit of breaking their enemy's legs with their gaffi sticks, and suddenly, he realizes, perhaps for the first time, how fragile, how mortal, his old Master has yet become.
For several fleeting moments, he forgets himself as what remains of a heart in his chest breaks for the old man. Like him. Obi-Wan has been alone. And like him. Obi-Wan, too, has been broken.
As he looks ruefully at the viewscreen, at the shrinking shape of the planet that is home to his son, a part of him wants to make a bid for connection with the man beside him, the only other person in the world who could understand how great his grief is at leaving the boy, perhaps for the last time.
Instead, he ignores the traitorous impulse and turns his face away.
Even so, once the autopilot engages as they hit hyperspace, he notices how Obi-Wan's eyelids droop, his shoulders slouching as he leans upon the console, watching the stars streak by, seemingly lost in thought.
Sidious's bond is scratching at his mind again, the warning tug from before a promise that pain awaits if he does not obey.
For once, instead of cringing fear, he finds an echo of rebellion stirring inside his breast.
He had never asked how it was that Kenobi had found him on Kalakar Six. Or why he had nursed him when killing him would have been so much easier.
Vader finds that he doesn't particularly care. At long last, Kenobi had come back for him. And, at that thought, he finds that something warm blooms under his breastbone. The old man had said he had forgiven him, and suddenly, he hopes that to be true.
You should rest, Obi-Wan. He finds himself communicating with perhaps more care than he had intended.
He tells himself it is out of his own self-interest. Kenobi's healing is fading, and the infection in his body is returning. He needs the old man to well-rested enough to be his advocate if he is to have dealings with the rebel scum.
The old man raises an eyebrow at him, his face suddenly skeptical.
So you can incapacitate me and steal my ship? He asks in half-jest. I think not.
Though it is the sensible response, a hint of disappointment bubbles up inside him. Even so, he does not press the issue.
They lapse into silence. Until, after some time, Obi-Wan breaches their silence.
"How could you do it?" The Jedi asks at last. "How could you slaughter us like we were nothing?"
The import of his question needs no clarification.
"The Jedi were traitors—!"
Obi-Wan turns slowly to give him a hard stare.
"I have risked much for you, Anakin. Do not insult me with lies."
Anger burns under his skin, but he hesitates.
"I knew…my visions—Padmé was going to die! The Emperor swore he—that the Sith—could save her…Master Windu said he was going to arrest him, but instead…he...he tried to kill him! And Padme! If she hadn't betrayed me I—!"
"Like I betrayed you…?" Obi-Wan mocks.
Rage bubbles up inside of him. And before he quite knows it, on reflex, Vader lashes out, wrapping tendrils of Darkness around the Jedi's neck even as his body trembles from the effort.
Even so, Obi-Wan's face remains impassive. And then, with a gentle shove of the Light, Vader finds that Obi-Wan has broken his hold, leaving Vader panting pathetically into the rebreather.
Enough of this. Do not exert yourself. The Jedi says telepathically, his tone filled with infuriating gentleness. You are just a fool, Anakin. A damned fool who damned us all with you.
All he can do is turn his face away. There is no response he can give. Instead, he joins his old Master in watching the stars streak by and listening to the Purrghil wail. As he looks beyond the viewscreen, he thinks painfully of his son, and wishes that things had been different.
Author's Note: I'm asking now, should Vader end up killing Palpatine? If so, any thoughts on how? Guest reviews take no time and require no registration.