Summary: Luke mourns.
Luke felt a tear slip down his face and an empty hollow feeling take root in his heart, unlike anything he had even felt before. The sounds of the Imperials evacuating the Death Star faded to nothing. The blaring sirens didn't register and even the fear he felt for his friends and for the Rebellion became something small in his mind.
His father was dead.
He was gone. Just like that – one moment there and the next gone.
It felt worse than being kicked in the gut. In fact, Luke would have preferred to be kicked or punched or shot rather than endure having to face this terrible loss.
Luke had come – he had surrendered himself, he had risked everything that had held any meaning to him because he wanted to save his father. Because he had wanted to know him. Because, despite all the reasons to the contrary, despite all the things that Vader had done wrong and all the mistakes he'd made… Luke had loved him.
There were so many things that he'd never gotten the chance to say. So many moments of his life that he'd never gotten to share or memories that he'd gotten to make.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair and the hurt building up inside him was threatening to tear him apart.
Raising his flesh hand, Luke took the fingers of his glove in his mouth and peeled it off. He felt numb as he dropped it beside him and as he stretched his hand forward. His father's face was still warm when Luke pressed the palm of his hand against Vader's cheek. He'd never known what his father looked like. He'd grown up, trying to imagine if they looked similar or not, trying to envision the sound of his voice and the things he might have said to Luke if he'd been around.
His father was pale and scarred, with open wounds and evidence of years and years of abuse. There was nothing pleasant about his appearance but looking at him for the first time and knowing that there would never be another opportunity, Luke felt nothing except love for every flaw and detail he could see.
This man was his father. This man had given him life and in the end, despite every other terrible thing he'd done, this man had turned his back on the Empire he'd built, on the man he'd served for decades, and thrown away his life just to save Luke.
It wasn't fair to have found him only to lose him.
His eyes blurred with tears and he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Vader's and closing his eyes, sucking in a deep breath.
"Thank you." he whispered, shuddering as he tried not to sob. "Thank you."
The alarms blaring in the hangar bay rang loudly in his ears for the first time since his father had breathed his last. It wasn't fair that the galaxy kept spinning when Luke just wanted it to stop. He pulled back, using his forearm to wipe the tears streaming down his face.
It is time to go, Luke.
He looked up at the shuttle in front of them and it seemed so far away.
Go. It will be alright.
Rallying himself, Luke took a calming breath and stood up. He could be strong for a little while longer... because if nothing else, Luke was determined that his father's sacrifice wouldn't be in vain.
It was time for them to go.
A/N For my father, who passed away unexpectedly on Monday evening.
My account may be quiet for a few weeks while I grieve with my family and adjust to the change. There aren't any words to describe the pain that is losing a parent and for all his flaws, my dad was unequivocally one of the best men to ever live.