SUMMARY: Some Vader ruminations as they continue traveling.

Exhaustion dragged at Vader, a continual companion that sat alongside the laboring respirator, the snags of his prosthetic limbs, as well as the generalized pain of his grafted skin and the machines hooked directly into his body. He had learned to ignore it for almost a decade, as he ignored his own fatigue now, but doing so for much longer would soon take its toll on him. He ought to be resting as well.

Yet all he wanted to do at that moment was stay and watch his children sleep.

It could be the last time he ever got to watch Leia…

No. He banished the thought forcefully and attempted to turn his attention back to the window, to draw upon the revitalizing energy of the Force. That was the paradoxical nature of shielding his and his children's signatures - he must use the Force to cut himself off from it, and in so doing, spend his reserves without any way to replenish it. They had found a temporary safe spot here, in this housing unit placed nearer the field than the relatively lifeless city, and he ought to be using the Force to focus on himself, not on the children.

And yet, his mind kept turning back to them. Without meaning to, sometimes without him even being aware of it until he was already doing so, he found his presence brushing against Luke or Leia's. Gauging their strength. Assessing their condition. Learning to detect the minute differences between the two. They were so similar that at first glance he had mistook one for the other, but now he was seeing the subtleties of their unique signatures: equally strong in their potential, but Luke's as serene as a Naboo lake, rarely ruffled, and Leia's vibrant, sparking with color, her emotions a whirl beneath the surface - weariness and fear and a bone-deep anxiety.

She turned in her sleep as if sensing his regard, eyelids fluttering, and muttered, "Father?"

Vader froze. It could not be… had she sensed their relationship? He had been careful not to let it slip, and Leia, untrained, would not even know…

But she rolled on the sofa again, tangling herself in her blanket, still murmuring weakly, "Father! Mother! Please…" Her presence flared with fear before she subsided.

And Vader let out a breath, or would have if he could. No, not him. She was calling out for the Organas. He was only a frightening stranger to her while the Organas were her parents, as far as she was concerned. And though he tried, he could no longer kindle the anger he should have felt at that, at Bail and Breha for kidnapping his child.

He shook himself abruptly. Force, what was he doing? Forming attachments? Allowing his feelings to run roughshod over all sense of logic? It was imperative that he physically protect them until they were off-planet - how was he to train them in the ways of the Dark Side and defeat the Emperor if they were dead? And he had already taken those first steps, teaching the two to speak through their bond, to open themself to the Force and thus furthering his design. But forming a bond with the children? Reassuring them? Even apologizing for his (admittedly violent) intrusion into his daughter's mind? Some detached part said it was what had to be done to gain her trust. Besides, had he not intruded on her mind, he would not have discovered their relationship, and he would have abandoned the princess to her fate without a second thought.

So why did that make him feel so cold?

It was all to turn them to his side, of course, and in the princess's case, to overcome her irrational fear of the Force. Not to mention finding some form of transport off this Force-forsaken planet. The bond that his son had unwittingly formed had not even been of Vader's doing, even if he had been the first to utilize it. It was the child himself who had sought to pour his own life energy into Vader's, the child with his unnerving innocence who kept attempting to push past his barriers. Despite the stirrings of pride Vader felt at such an instinctively skilled use of the Force, he had had to stop the boy lest he sacrifice all his life force and manage to kill himself, because what end would that have served? Even now he checked on his son, to see if there had been any permanent damage done from giving himself so effortlessly, so willingly. But Luke had already recovered from it, his potential seemingly boundless.

It was not because he had cared about what Luke thought. It was certainly not because he felt a softening of his edges whenever the child expressed nervousness for him. He was a Dark Lord of the Sith; children did not worry about him.

And if the ultimate goal was to serve the Dark Side, it did not matter what methods he employed. Palpatine, as Darth Sidious and Chancellor and then Emperor, had certainly not suffered any moral scruples when it came to his methods. He had created dual personas, performed multiple roles, manipulated both sides of a pointless war, all for the purpose of achieving his ends. The only thing that mattered was that they managed to leave this infested planet alive so that Vader might put his own plans into motion.

He assured himself of that as he reached out again to test the princess's - Leia's - aura, as he had done with Luke. She was strong, yes, probably would be as strong as her brother were she healthy, but her presence was growing dimmer by the day, a flickering light about to go out. Her face was drawn into a grimace, body fighting off illness and pain. Without thinking, he reached for her, physically reached for her, resting his fingers against her temple and infusing some of his already limited reserves into her. Her body relaxed, expression softening, but he kept his hand on her long after that.

How long had it been since he had touched someone in a way that did not involve violence? How long since it had been someone he cared for?

Cared for.

You care for the girl…

You allowed this, my Lord…

Look at what his caring had done to her.

Vader withdrew his hand sharply and pretended not to notice how Leia's body also appeared to curl back into itself. He stretched out along his bond to Luke once more and was faced with another tumult of images - dreams. This time of suffocation and darkness, the overwhelming terror of being alone and trapped. Before he even knew what he was doing, he had let flow a soothing current of energy, brushed back the dreams, pressed feelings of safety and comfort. By the time Vader realized his aim, his son had settled back into a dreamless sleep.

No.

This had gone far beyond serving the Dark Side.

He wanted his children to live. Not just to serve as his apprentices. He needed them alive because he wanted them to live for their own sake. Not for the Force, not for the Dark Side. He needed them with him. And everytime he envisioned a future where they weren't, there was a hollow feeling in his chest that had nothing to do with his fatigue or the Force-deadness of this planet.

Vader jerked back, pushing all this away. Had he not learned his lesson already? Had he not seen for himself what the price was for his damned feelings? Yet here he was, striding into that same minefield without a care - wanting to walk into it.

Better instead to dwell on the day's events. Luke's dream had brought back memories of the bombardment, and with it, his fury at the senselessness of it all.

No, much more than that: betrayal. Assassination.

His men were well aware that he was on the planet's surface, and they would know too that after the governor's palace, the next most likely place for him to be would be the Imperial base. And they had destroyed it all the same, and the city too. He wondered who had ultimately given the order. One of his admirals, no doubt. He turned to stare out the window, hearing a distant rumble. Another sweep?

Then he realized that this was a natural sound. A storm was coming.

He continued to mull the thought over as clouds swept over the once-clear night sky, extinguishing the stars and the moons. He had made many enemies in his time serving the Empire, and it was no secret that, as the supreme commander of the entire military, taking him out would present a huge hole that any ambitious officer would love to fill. Any one of the officers on the Exactor, or the Star Destroyers that had joined it, could have seen their opportunity and overridden any protests by lower-ranking officers to activate orbital bombardment. They would even have good reason to: the infection provided an excellent excuse, and should Vader have been caught in it, well, he was just a casualty of the Empire's ruthless efficiency in eliminating threats - albeit a rather important one.

Of course, just because any of the officers could have, did not mean they would have. Because in addition to his rank, the one other thing they knew about Vader was his incredible propensity for surviving anything and everything that had been thrown at him. Lightsabers, electrical shocks, blasters of all shapes and sizes, thermal detonators, decompressing airlocks, the void of space, and the one incredibly foolish assassin who had thought a mere vibroblade would work - none of it had made a permanent dent on him. And he doubted that most of them would truly risk him surviving, finding out the perpetrator, and incurring his lethal and undoubtedly painful wrath upon them.

But there was one being who could order such a bombardment and receive no protest nor be in any danger of suffering his vengeance… one person who had made it clear that he was still, and forever would be, testing Vader's potential.

His respirator quickened, struggling to keep pace with his own emotions. There was a worrisome hitch to the constant cycles; the collapse of the base had possibly thrown some of the parts out of alignment. Vader touched a button on his chest plate, adjusting the pressure and oxygen levels. At some point he would need to stop and actually make some repairs. It was not a major worry for now, and he did not dwell on it overly long, but if it kept going…

Well, he had survived worse.

He raised his head as a light patter began coming down. Rain. The sound was steady and though he kept a watchful eye out for a few moments, neither child stirred, remaining deep in sleep.

Vader settled against a chair as well, relaxing into a meditative trance. However much he had tried to deny it, the day's events had taken a toll. Had it not been for both children allowing him to draw on their energy, he had not been sure he would have been able to lift the rubble that had buried them. And then afterwards maintaining the Force shield and giving Leia bouts of his own energy… he would never admit it, but he was drained. And tomorrow - tomorrow they would have to press on even harder.

They had to find the ship. Once off the planet, he could heal his daughter, do whatever he must to eradicate the virus tearing through her body. How he would do it, he had no idea. But he had to. He had to undo his mistake.

The thought was too painful to hold for long. With one last check to ensure they were safe enough, he relaxed into the Force.

He came out of his meditation to the sound of thunder, feeling, if not rejuvenated, then at least less fatigued. His first act was to look around, examine the area in front of him. His senses told him that it was daytime, though a heavily overcast, dreary day. His children were arrayed in front of him, curled up under their thermal blankets on the sofa.

Vader stood, reaching out lightly and feeling the strange voids in the Force that the infected presented. They were not actual gaps or holes in the Force, or they might have been easier to sense; it was more that they were fuzzily defined, empty areas, difficult to grasp and easy to miss. There were a number of them scattered around the surrounding landscape, though less of them than had been in the city. Perhaps that pattern would continue the further out they went; the fields and wilderness before them should only contain the few laborers and workers needed to operate the agricultural machinery, not the masses of concentrated populations of urban areas.

So on that thought, he awoke Luke first, then went to Leia as the boy did his best to freshen up and pulled out the box of rations they had not finished. His daughter had barely stirred, and concerned, Vader placed a hand to her forehead. She felt warmer than before, and his mind flashed to the fever reducers the doctor had given to him. Should he use them now, to stave it off before it became worse, or wait until she truly needed it?

As if hearing his conflict, Leia stirred awake, blinking at him from beneath his hand. She did not flinch back, which Vader put down more to her exhaustion than any growing trust she had in him.

He asked, "How do you feel?" The words felt foreign to him; how long had it been since he had actually been interested in another person's wellbeing?

Leia closed her eyes a moment, drooping against the cushions. "Okay," she said, voice weak. Then, "A little cold."

Yet she definitely felt warmer, even with the dulled nerve endings of his prosthetic hand. "Luke, your pack." He reached inside and pulled out the fever reducer. Leia did not even wince as he injected it into her arm. "Sit up. Keep the blanket around you." He gestured, but Luke had already guessed his intent and made his way over with the rations. "Eat. We have a long way ahead of us."

She picked at the leftovers but attempted a few bites, still looking wan. Luke kept proffering different things to her and barely ate anything himself until Vader prompted him to. Neither ate as much as he would have liked, but between them they finished the box and discarded it on the sofa. Luke wrapped his robe around him while Leia brushed wearily at her hair.

The movement made her sleeve fall, revealing her arm, and the sight of it made Vader go cold inside. The infection was continuing to spread, crawling up to her fingers. The flesh was shriveling as it blackened, which was how the form fitting sleeve had slipped in the first place. And even with all that, he knew that was only the most visible symptom, that the virus had already spread itself through her body, and merely seeing this was… He turned away sharply.

But Leia muttering to herself made him look back. She was attempting to braid her hair back, but she appeared to be having some difficulties. It only took a moment for Vader to determine the problem: the fingers of her right hand were not curling.

Leia stared at them in furious concentration. "They won't - they're not-"

Luke reached forward. "Here, I'll help-"

But she dodged him, fear crossing her face. "No! I'll do it by myself!" She stared at her hand in furious concentration, like it might move by sheer force of will.

At that, Vader moved towards her. "Leave it." They did not have time for this. If the symptoms were as strong as this, then it might be as the doctor had said: the infection had overcome the protective buffer of Leia's overwhelming number of midi-chlorians.

She did not have much time left.

He watched her carefully as she dropped her hair, still unbraided, then pushed herself clumsily off the sofa. "Can you walk?"

She nodded, a trace of her old stubbornness passing over her face. Deciding not to respond to that, Vader slid the door open.

Luke gaped at the dreary world outside, at the drizzle of water. "Is that… rain?"

"Yes." Vader did not share his awe, even if he understood it, remembering his own wonder at seeing planets with so much water on it. But he had no time for any of that; it was already difficult enough to sense the infected without the Force, even if his mask allowed for some enhancements. This would make it even harder. And the children…

He turned and decided to risk using the Force to bring their blankets to him. He passed them to the two. "Cover yourself. Stay warm." He stared at the rain as the two children wrapped the blankets over their bodies. The blankets were large enough that the two could pull it over their heads and still have it cover their body down to their knees. Still, they would get soaked and with Leia in her condition…

But he could not stay here thinking about that. They had to move before the storm became stronger - before the disease took Leia. Vader turned towards the door, stemming the tide of regret threatening to overtake him. "Remain close to me."

They kept to the edges of the houses, staying under roofs or dodging past trees. The rain had come too late to save them; many burnt during the night to mere sticks of blackened wood that steamed in the chill. The rain itself was not heavy, but it remained a constant light shower that misted them with dampness at the slightest breeze. Luke, used to Tatooine's dry heat, was soon shivering, wiping at the water that kept getting in his eyes. He was weighed down as well by his pack, which jutted out from beneath his blanket. Leia, who had grown up with Alderaan's milder climate, was shaking for different reasons, but she moved doggedly forward, one foot after the other, barely aware of what she was doing.

Before midday, they had reached the end of the town. The homes became more and more spread out and the road soon turned from ferrocrete to gravel, and before long, Vader could tell, would be mere dirt - or in this rain, mud. That would be an issue; it was hard enough walking on paved roads. The mud would suck at their footsteps and stick to their boots, slowing them down and wearing them out with the effort of escaping it, and the children had already been pushing themselves as it was. Shelter was growing scarcer too with every foot they walked; the houses no longer contained lawns so much as they were sitting on larger and larger lots of untrimmed grass and brush. More and more trees had begun popping up, dispersed randomly as they drew nearer to the woodlands. As the rain continued to fall, they became dark, spindly shapes in the downpour, though they at least offered some temporary reprieve from the rain. The amount of abandoned speeders, he noticed, also seemed to be increasing. Perhaps the inhabitants had fled this way in an attempt to escape the disease. That was not a good sign either; it meant they might encounter more infected instead of less the further they went.

He glanced down at the children as they pushed through the landscape. So far they had been keeping a steady pace with his admittedly shortened strides. The rain had plastered the blankets to their bodies and their hair against their faces. Luke kept blinking water from his eyes and shaking droplets from his hair, all his awe long gone; Leia's shivering, meanwhile, had increased so much Vader could see drops being shaken loose. She clutched at her blanket with her uninjured hand while the other hung limply by her side. Her body drooped and she put one foot in front of the other without looking where she was going, following out of sheer perversity rather than any purpose. He stretched out.

She had no presence at all.

Terror struck Vader; he reached out again frantically, tearing through the Force's currents with all the subtlety of a rock being thrown into a still pond until, at last, he spotted her signature: a tiny mote of light bobbing up and down along the ripples, so small that if he looked away, he might lose it again. She was getting worse, far worse.

Vader came to a halt so suddenly the children almost walked into him, but he did not notice; he was struggling to make a decision. The road they were following would lead towards Leia's family's vacation home and her ship. Yet he knew it would be a winding, circuitous route, built around the vast, hexagonal fields of crops rather than cutting through them. It might take days to reach it on foot - days they did not have.

But there was another option: they could go straight into the fields themselves and whatever was ahead of them, taking the shortest, most linear route. But the grain growing in the fields was dense, so tightly packed he could barely see the gaps between them; moreover, it was tall, taller than Vader himself, the thick heads bobbing in the wind. And even more daunting, it was a wetlands crop and had to remain constantly submerged in water, water that was thick and silty from the storm. As if there weren't troubles enough, Vader also had no idea how deep it would be either, only that the storm would definitely increase it. Walking through flooded land, in pouring rain, their view obscured by waving heads of grain: Vader could only imagine what creatures might be lurking within. How vulnerable they would be.

He turned and knelt in front of the two children. Leia's body was constantly trembling and she was huddled miserably beneath her blanket, yet when Vader put a hand to her, she felt like a heater, so hot was her fever.

Vader made his decision. He crouched in front of the girl. Leia did not even look at him; it was like lifting her head was too much effort for her. "Show me where your ship is," he said. When Leia only swayed, staring at the ground like he wasn't even there, he pressed his hands to her shoulders. "Leia, you must show me. When we reach your ship I can help you, you will not die. But you must show me where it is. Remember how to do it."

She was shaking so hard and was so sodden that she almost slipped from his hands, but after a moment she lifted her head to meet his. He saw her eyes focus briefly. Water splattered against her face, into her eyes, dripping down the tip of her nose and over her cheeks, but he could feel the Force swirling around her, and kept an eye out warily for any infected to find them.

Her hand lifted, pointing. Her teeth were chattering so hard she could barely speak, but she had given Vader all he needed to know. "That way." It was at almost a ninety-degree angle from the road.

The volume of rain was increasing seemingly exponentially. Vader stood, decision made. "Follow me."

Thunder was booming intermittently as they crossed the wide open plain that surrounded the last house for several hundred feet around. Soon they would be in the midst of farmland, all filled with the same huge stalks of grain. The sky was almost as dark as it was at night, only the occasional flashes of lightning illuminating their way. The rain had transformed the dirt into a swirling, sucking morass that clung to their shoes and dragged at the edges of his cape. He tried to lead them around the worst of them, but sometimes he had no choice but to trudge through the thick, squelching puddles. Wind whipped at the trees as they passed them, whistling past his auditory sensors, and that itself was all but drowned out by the roar of the rain. Wet grass slapped at their legs, clinging to his robes. All they could see in the growing downpour were dark shapes of agricultural droids: tracto-droids with heavy treads that had gone still, load carriers with flat arms and scoops, rotary droids with huge wheels rusting under the rain - and in the distance, a massive, boxy shape of some kind of storage or processing building.

The children were losing energy fast, as much as Vader tried not to push them beyond their limits. They were pathetically tiny figures in the gray fog of the storm, bent from the constant, chilling rain. Yet he was driven on by Leia's fading presence - he had to get her to her ship. The clipped grass of before had given way to long, uneven strands that snagged at them and left wet streaks and smears of mud, and Vader could see ahead that they would soon reach an area that was even wilder, an expanse of uncut brush and overgrown plant life.

The massive building was only a little further ahead, yet it took far longer than it should have to reach it. The sloshing mixture of mud and water came partway up to Vader's boots, which for the children meant it was up to their knees. Every movement or breeze sent a wave of water over the children, sometimes up to waist level that further drenched and chilled them. They struggled to wade through it, gasping under the cold rain and the wind that kept gusting against them, even with their blankets. Those had long lost their heating ability under the relentless downpour and served more to weigh them down, soaked through with water and puddling out along the surface The only reason Vader did not take it back was that it still offered them some protection from the rain. Together they were little more than three staggering shapes in the darkness; Luke had actually grabbed hold of Leia's hand to tug her along, so that they looked even more like a shambling beast.

The last feet felt longer than all the others combined, but at last they found relief from the incessant rain. Beneath the building, the heavy downpour was a constant rattle against the structure, the wind blowing through the open doorways to create eerie wailing. Vader flicked water off his gloves, his cape dragging along the rough floor, then turned and hauled the two children within.

Leia immediately collapsed, body quivering with the effort of holding herself up. Luke, still trying to hold her and clutch onto his own blanket despite not looking much better, ended up dragged down with her. But Vader could not let them rest for more than a moment: the building was totally open, multiple uncovered arches and windows so that rain and dirt had splattered inside, rendering the whole place filthy and fuzzy with mold. And the rain was still blowing through, chilling the soaked children to the bone. He pulled them up bodily and shoved them further inside, down into one of the rooms nearer the center. Only there did he stop and finally allow them to rest.

Luke sat limply on the ground, pulling off his blanket and divesting himself of his pack robotically; Leia curled up beside him, not even bothering with hers. Vader summoned Luke's pack, forgetting about being cautious with using the Force. Pulling out the condenser unit, he turned it as high as he could, then used the Force again to gather the sticks that were littered about the area. He tossed those onto the unit until they burned to life, then dumped them on the floor, a makeshift campfire. He tossed the blankets nearby to dry. By then Leia was too far gone to even move towards it, but a valiant effort by Luke meant that she was soon curled near it.

"Is she-" Luke tried to ask, but the words seemed to stick in his throat.

There was little use trying to deny it. "She is very weak," Vader said. He got down beside her and pulled Leia upright to rest against him. He reached for Luke's pack again but the boy, anticipating him, had it ready. He found the second fever reducer and pressed it to Leia's arm. That done, he pressed a hand to her forehead once more, allowing some more of his own life force to flow into his daughter. Between those two things, perhaps they might be of some help. Yet some small part of his brain was realizing just how limited his usefulness was. Even as a Jedi the healing arts were not something he had focused on; he had preferred fighting and action instead. And as a Sith Lord, sacrificing some of his own power for unselfish ends would be anathema to their teachings.

The regret that he'd been holding back all day was threatening to overwhelm him. All his power, all he had sacrificed, and none of it, none of it was of use. Nothing to save his daughter from the consequences of his own actions.

It felt like it took an age, long enough that Vader bid Luke to begin eating - using a meal packet, not a ration box or one of the bars, the boy was in dire need of a warm meal - but eventually, Leia began to awaken, a little color returning to her face. She twitched at finding herself so close to Vader.

"Do not move," he ordered her. "You will only drain yourself further."

She wrinkled her face at him, but perhaps feeling the truth of his words, slumped back reluctantly against him.

"Eat something," he told her, and held out his hand for a meal packet. It had been a little while since he had prepared one of these himself, and it brought back old memories of sitting hunched over in other ruined buildings, at small fires, surrounded by clone troopers and fellow Jedi - he shook them off and prepared the meal. It took less than a minute, but in that time Leia's eyes had closed and she had gone back to shivering beside him. Vader summoned her thermal blanket - somewhat drier by now - and rewrapped it around her. The fire would further warm her up, he told himself.

"Eat this," he said, pressing the protein slice and the polystarch biscuit on her. For once, Leia seemed to know that refusing him was not an option, but after her first bite, her arm - her left arm, Vader could not help noticing - fell limply to her side, too weak to even hold that up. She had gone quite pale, even that small movement draining her.

Without a word, Vader lifted her fully into his lap, resting her against his body - or rather, his armor, which could not be comfortable. It was a measure of how tired she was that she did not say anything or even squirm. Ignoring Luke's wide eyes, he plucked the biscuit from her hand and lifted it to her lips himself. She took a bite, then rested against him a while, chewing slowly. Just eating was sapping more energy than she was likely receiving from the food, but he refused to let her stop. Another bite, another moment to recover herself. Vader brought the water bottle over, had her drink from that. Another three pieces, each taking an interminably slow time, and then a sip of water.

Until Leia suddenly sat up, face draining of blood. "I feel sick," was all she managed to mumble before she leaned over and vomited her entire meal across the floor.

Nausea and vomiting are the next symptoms, Vader thought distantly when all he could do was hold her until her retching stopped. There was a curious feeling of spasming in his own gut, like his body was in sympathetic accord with hers, and he wondered if this, too, was what it meant to be a parent: to feel a child's pain as if it were his own. Luke had leaped away but immediately returned with a full water bottle. He even held her hair while she washed out her mouth, though he looked so sick himself at the sight that Vader was tempted to send him away, for the boy's own sake.

After that, there was only one thing to do, which was to feed the nutrients directly into her body. The doctor had given them three capsules; this left two. Leia was close to unconsciousness after her bout, utterly worn out and slumped against his arm. Still, she accepted the capsule after some prompting on Vader's end and swallowed it without a sound. He did not like how pale she remained even after; the capsule would sustain her body but it could not warm her the way a hot meal would.

They could not stay inside forever, and though Vader waited longer than he ought to, hoping for the storm to ease, it continued to blow on, minute after minute. They had finished eating, their blankets were dry, their things cleaned up, and still he delayed needlessly, standing at the edge of the building right as it crossed into the fields. They had no time to wait, no time to rest, but Leia could not even hold herself up.

And there was another concern, one Vader did not voice to the children: when he tried to sense any sentient, intelligent life ahead of them, all he felt was emptiness.

But if they wanted to reach Leia's ship as quickly as possible, they must cross the field.

So Vader, looking at her, looking at the storm that showed no signs of ebbing, made a second decision: he scooped her up into his arms.

Immediately, Leia began to squirm. That was not optimal. "Cease moving, you will only tire yourself more," Vader told her.

"I can walk," she protested, pushing at his arm with more energy than she had shown the entire day.

"You cannot," was Vader's short reply as he crossed the length of the building. Luke jogged alongside, clutching his blanket, pack strapped to his back.

"I can," said Leia, sheer impertinence seemingly giving her strength enough to argue with him.

Vader looked at her. One more step and they'd be outside, exposed to the pounding storm. Ahead was a vast field of the tall grain he had seen from a distance, planted in such dense rows that he could not see any clear passage between them. Water flowed between the stalks, and even the higher ground, which would remain dry during normal times, was turning into a cascade of rain and mud. Water pelted the surface in a roar that drowned out all other sounds. Between the darkness of the sky and the dense, waving heads of grain, any other movement - infected or otherwise - was indiscernible.

And to reach Leia's ship, they would have to cross it.

Gently, he set the princess down and bent so he could grip her by the shoulders to help her stand. She blinked owlishly, gazing at him in dull stupefaction.

"Leia," he said again, "you cannot. And if we are to reach your ship in time, you must not."

Her face crumbled. She wiped at her face with the back of her hand, again, again. "I didn't mean to leave," she whispered. "He told me to run, but I didn't want to… I was scared, I didn't help-"

Discomfort squirmed in his gut, a most unexpected - and unpleasant - reaction. What was he supposed to do? She was looking for alleviation from her guilt, from someone who had no experience with that and no idea what to say, who had not known what to do even before… this. Action had been the way he had dealt with his own feelings, not contemplation.

But perhaps she was not truly looking for relief. Perhaps all she wanted was some sign that someone was listening to her.

Still feeling very discomfited, but needing her to stop crying, he touched her face with his thumb. "It was not your fault," he told her. "Had you stayed, you would have been killed as well."

Did it comfort her? He could not imagine it comforting himself. He had never feared his own death, assured that he was powerful enough to evade it. But the death of others… it brought back memories of another self, a younger self, who would have declared that lack of strength was no excuse and that he should have fought harder, been more powerful. But his daughter…

Her shoulders remained slumped, but he sensed some tiny lifting of her mood through their bond. She swiped at her nose. "I'm going to die anyway," she mumbled.

Vader stood swiftly. "Not if we move quickly," he said, because he refused to consider the alternative. His sudden movement, however, caused her to stumble, and he caught her before he could fall. She looked so small, so terrified, no longer the stubborn daughter of royalty defying his every command. He almost wished she would at this point; this fragile child had no spark, no life in her. Without any further protests, he swung the thermal blanket around her and pulled her into his arms, then turned for Luke. Shifting Leia to his left arm, he used his free hand to tug the second blanket around Luke, wrapping it tightly around his form.

"We're going to walk through that?" asked Luke, staring at all that water, all the huge plant life and Vader sensed his Force signature spiking with nervousness, recalled the boy screaming, I can't swim… and Vader's own anxiety around water when he had first left Tatooine.

What had he said in response, back before he knew Luke was his son? Something callous, no doubt.

"Calm yourself, Luke," he said now. "I will not let you drown."

"But," Luke continued to stare at the field, "how will we know where to go? Won't we get lost?"

"I will guide you." He looked at this son and said, once again, "I will not leave you behind."

Luke looked up at him, and Vader felt the boy reach out through the Force, a hesitant, untrained attempt to tap into his emotions. He sent back reassurance, and knew Luke felt it when he saw his eyes widen.

Leia lifted her head from his shoulder, squinting. She rubbed her eyes once, then again. "I think I see something." She squinted again. "Something's moving."

Vader was silent for a moment. He had not wanted them to notice, yet it seemed even with her dimming presence, his daughter was as perceptive as ever. "Infected. There are likely some hiding amongst the stalks." He had sensed it when he reached out and all he felt was the void.

Luke jerked his head up at Vader. "Hiding? Then how will we see them?"

"We won't." He could not lie about that. "I will shield us, but it is even more important that you stay close, do you understand?"

The two children stared at the thickly growing fields of grain, and nodded - even Leia, carried in his arms.

Vader pulled out his lightsaber. "I will cut a path through the grain. If we encounter any infected, I will deal with them." He waited, thinking and even hoping his daughter might demand that he not kill any but to merely push through them. She did not, and Vader found himself wishing irrationally that she had.

Luke shifted closer to him. Vader looked down at the boy, practically burying himself against him, and had an idea. He lifted the edge of his cape, tattered as it was. "Get under."

Luke stared at him with eyes that had gone even larger with surprise. Vader moved nearer, inviting him in. He saw his son hesitate, but only for a second. In the next, Luke had moved so he was sheltering against the side of Vader's leg. He seemed surprised to even be there, and he kept staring at Vader's cloak. One hand grabbed onto its edge, rubbing his fingers along the torn parts. Then he looked up, as if afraid Vader might shake him off. And when Vader did not, his eyes shone with something close to gratitude.

Igniting his lightsaber, Vader looked out at the field. The primitive life forces of the plants clashed with the emptiness of the infected hiding amongst them: laborers and mechanics out in the fields, utilizing and repairing droids when the disease struck and reduced to prowling through stalks of grain or lurking, hidden, in the knee-deep water. And there was another concern: if the borrats had been infected, then so could other animals. The water could hide infected aquatic animals; the fields might part to reveal a herd of normally herbivorous mammals, ready to attack should they sense them.

Vader looked down at both his children. They had no other choice; Leia's life was on the line. "Are you ready?"

Luke looked terrified, but he nodded. In his arms, Leia peered up from beneath the hood of her blanket and nodded weakly as well. She closed her eyes and dropped her head back down.

Vader dropped the shield around them and stepped out into the rain.

A/N: This chapter is very heavily inspired by the "Hard Rain" level in Left 4 Dead 2. It's a very unique level in which your group has to trek through a small town and an abandoned sugar mill during what is essentially the approach of a hurricane, all whilst fighting off zombies, of course. I watched through a couple of playthroughs of the level specifically to get the feel of the whole thing; I just really loved the idea of beating off zombies with the extra challenge of low visibility, in the middle of pouring rain, while treading through flooded areas and broken machinery. So of course I threw Vader into it and gave him a sick child to deal with on top of that lol. (Oh and sleep deprivation. Man's going to need a long vacation after this.)