Chapter Text
Chapter 1
He opened his eyes, a sparkle shining in them.
Vader could sense it. The old, dead bond. Even light years away, the distance wasn't able to interfere.
Obi-Wan
He inhaled deeply through the breather covering his nose and mouth, the wave of his anger echoing as much inside the bacta pod as in the Force.
Hatred
Longing.
It was the first emotion Vader felt. A burning flame of consuming hatred, as endless as the Mustafar's lava that ran around his fortress.
He made sure Obi-Wan could feel its entirety, that he paid for reaching out to the bond he killed himself since that day.
That fateful day.
All the pain of the betrayal, the abandonment, and the outcome of their fight, Vader lightened the last traces of their numb bond with his immeasurable anger.
His emotions waved through the Force, the dark side impulsing each of them as his heart thundered in his chest.
Anger. Hatred. Loathing. Betrayal. Pain.
Love. Hurt. Sorrow. Regret. Guilty. Pain.
Vader suppressed that irritating voice inside his head, instead focusing on making Obi-Wan feel the only existing ones.
That was until the coward of his former master blocked it once more.
No!
No!
He couldn’t just do it again. He had to know what life was like after what he had done to Vader.
To Padmé.
To the child inside his angel.
It was all his fault.
No, it wasn't.
Vader shut it down.
Obi-Wan wouldn't get away.
Vader used the force to shove the top of the pod, causing the cables to snap off his body all at once, he threw it away, and it stuck on the wall.
His brain barely registered the pain, adrenaline running through his veins. Vader grabbed the breather, roughly removing it and tossing it to the side.
He grabbed the edges of the pod and sat up, the bacta falling from his skin and hair as he breathed heavily in creaks. Each breath crawled the walls of his burned lungs, still not healed.
It was a pain Vader was used to by now, completely different from the sheer agony of the years it took for his body to rebuild itself through the dark side.
His hands tightened around the edges, his yellow irises lighting up with the reminder. Obi-Wan would know precisely what it was like soon.
The camera door opened, and two stormtroopers and one of the new doctors his Master had sent ran through it.
"Lord Vader, you-" The doctor that he hadn't even bothered to remember the name started but froze in place when Vader raised his hand.
Terrible timing.
Vader tilted his head. The doctor's neck snapped loudly, and his corpse fell to the ground, opaque eyes looking at him.
He shouldn't have come when Vader was like that. It was his fault for not knowing.
The stormtroopers stepped back and faced him, their shock echoing in the Force. With a slight movement of his hand, he crushed all the bones in their bodies, instantly killing them.
The dull noise of them falling echoed in the room. How easily he had bent the Force to his will. It was an inebriating sensation.
Vader's anger was temporarily placated as he leaned back on the pod until his back rested on the edge.
He didn't have to worry.
Obi-Wan was close to his fate.
He could try to hide, run and crawl like a rat, but there was no place in the galaxy where Vader wouldn't get to him. He could seek help from allies or poor bastards that were stupid enough to answer his calls, and Vader would eliminate each of them and leave a trail of blood to his name.
There was nothing in the galaxy that could stand between them.
No one.
Vader clenched his teeth, taking a deep, raw breath. His former Master would suffer by his hands. He would scream, cry, beg for mercy, and he wouldn’t find anything but the agony Vader would inflict on him.
He stared at the ceiling, already able to imagine all of that. Obi-Wan's limbs being cut off. His body slowly burned with drops of lava. His face was disfigured.
At each thought, his anger grew, fed by vengeful thoughts.
In his delusions, Vader ignored every hint of the familiar sense of loneliness and hurt that came when he dreamed awake about Obi-Wan's torture.
They were mere remnants of a dead man, unable to leave the depth of his mind for years.
Sitting inside that pod with three corpses in the room, nothing but his hatred filled the Force, an opposite to the love that once was there.
Vader stayed there for minutes, almost an hour, controlling his temper to the point where he wouldn't kill whoever he found in the hallways.
As disposable as any of them were, mainly the stormtroopers, random bloodshed wouldn't be enough to satisfy his anger.
Only one person could.
And he wasn't there.
Not yet.
Vader got up from the pod, already feeling his lungs start to fail slowly. Sometimes he thought about what would happen if he let it get worse and worse until-
No. He wasn't such a miserable being. He sighed, the air coming out with difficulty. He looked where his suit was in the machine, ready to put on him.
His lungs would be perfectly healed in a few years, but even then, Vader didn't plan to get rid of his suit.
It was imposing, terrifying, and intimidating, everything he impersonated.
He walked towards it, not caring about the drops of bacta falling on the floor. Someone would clean it alongside the corpses.
Grabbing a towel next to the machine, he dried himself, then stepped in. He took his mask, a black device with red details that covered his mouth and nose and could be connected to the suit or work as a breather for a few hours when he was without it.
Vader put it on, and the process started, every piece of his suit moving around him, carefully placed on his body.
The first time it happened, it had been his torture. All Vader could feel was the agony of the burns as he pleaded for Padmé's help.
He was scared. In pain. Desperate.
Pathetic.
His wife was already dead by then, as he was informed. The love of his life, the woman he did everything for, had been gone, with his child, taking the last traces of Anakin with her.
I'm still here
Anakin Skywalker died back then.
I'm still you, Vader
Darth Vader was born never to die.
When his helmet was set on his head, his breathing apparatus turned on, and he took a deep breath in his full suit.
He was ready for the end of his hunt.
Vader left the chamber, walking into four stormtroopers, who saluted him when he stopped in front of them. He could sense their apprehension, their fearful thoughts loudly echoing from their minds.
"Send someone to clean my chamber. Now." Vader ordered, already wasting time with them.
"Yes, Lord Vader." The stormtroopers nodded, immediately leaving to do so.
Sometimes, in moments like that, Vader wished he still had his 501st clones. They had been with him since he was Anakin and even when he took down the Jedi Order.
A face was remarkable between them in his memories—a name.
Rex.
Vader crushed the growing feeling before he could indeed feel it. He had made the right choice. Discarding and sending them away alongside the 212st was the best option; otherwise, their proximity could have been damaging.
He strolled towards his throne room, entering the cold stone setting that contrasted the roaring rivers of lava seen from the transparisteel window.
Going up the stairs, he stopped in front of his throne. It was simple, serving its purpose of intimidation in his fortress.
In the future, he would be sitting on a different throne—a greater one.
Vader sat on his throne, gesturing at the holo to turn it on. The Third Sister, Reva was her name, immediately appeared, looking up at him.
"Lord Vader." She greeted him respectfully.
He didn't have time for small talk.
"Where is he?" Vader questioned pointedly, not hiding his impatience.
"We have probes out. We're tracking all possible exits." She informed him, continuing with unnecessary information, "He will pay for the Grand Inquisitor's-"
"The Grand Inquisitor means nothing." Vader interrupted her dryly, empathizing his point with his following words, "Kenobi is all that matters now. Is that understood?"
Nothing but him mattered.
Nothing was more important than his capture.
Vader would have him, whatever it took.
"Yes, my lord." Reva nodded.
Obedient, at the correct times. He laid back on his throne, analyzing her. She was fierce, never stopping to hunt for Obi-Wan, just like him.
A wasted potential, and it was a shame.
"I have been watching you, Third Sister." Vader said knowingly, "I know what it is you seek. Prove yourself, and the position of Grand Inquisitor is yours. Fail me, and you will not live to regret it." He threatened.
She swallowed, taking a deep breath. Oh, the fear. It was vital for her to know what to fear. That would drive her even more powerfully than any greed could.
It did for him.
Vader turned the holo off. He got up, walking to the transparisteel. He stood there, observing the same rivers of lava that burned him ten years ago.
And now, he made it his headquarters in the planet's heart. He turned what almost killed him into his weapon.
He looked down to the drainers of the fortress, gathering the lava to a pool inside a chamber in the depths of it. Vader had personally designed them to extract the maximum of Obi-Wan's suffering.
You don't want to do that. You don't want to hurt him!
I do!
Vader snarled, clenching his hands in fists as he choked that annoying voice back to its place.
He wished to do even more than hurt Obi-Wan. He wanted to harm him so profoundly, to shatter him physically, emotionally, and mentally until he couldn't gather the pieces of his broken soul.
Vader would fracture Obi-Wan's existence and crush it, and only after would he kill him.
He would have his vengeance.
Soon.
When he arrived on that deplorable planet, Vader felt that glimpse of light in the Force. It was not bright and shiny like it had been once, a spark of what it once was, but it was there.
Obi-Wan was there. And he knew Vader was there too.
Satisfaction filled him as he walked on the dirt. His breath echoed, each of his steps increasing the terror and tension that stank, even from his Inquisitors.
Disappointing, but not surprising. He would punish them later for that.
He turned to the pitiful houses lined up on both sides, stepping forward as he focused his attention on the Force.
It was the right place. Vader could sense Obi-Wan's presence. Not too far away… but not too close either.
He strode through the street, his cape swinging as he did so, the dark force ringing around him. He looked around, from side to side.
Where was he?
A flash of horror cut through their bond.
He stopped. He reached out for it.
It was still blocked, but if Obi-Wan was sloppy enough to make such a slip, he had to be watching him.
Vader smirked as an idea formed in his mind. Obi-Wan had always worn his heart on his sleeve. A weakness he intended to explore in every possible way.
He faced the house on his right side, where a family lived, the Force informed him: a father, a mother, and a son.
Vader immediately felt a hint of jealousy and anger. They trembled, terrified, but they were holding onto each other.
They had what was taken from him. They were the perfect scapegoat for the moment.
He straightened his arm, using the force to hold the man and choke him in the air, bringing him to him. The lower life cried out, begging him to stop as he desperately tried to get rid of his indivisible grip.
Vader's smirk grew sharper. That should make it for Obi-Wan. He looked to the other side, waiting for a reaction that should come soon.
Why hadn't he appeared yet? Where was Obi-Wan?
A scream from inside the house caught his attention for a moment, and he watched a boy run from it toward his father as if he could save him.
Big mistake.
Vader dropped the father and tossed the son to the wall, causing the latter to fall on his butt and shrink in a useless attempt to escape from him.
No one could. Vader snapped his neck. The Force screamed in a weak protest.
Obi-Wan didn't appear. Oh, so the years hardened his heart.
It didn't matter. He would react eventually, maybe after Vader killed the entire village.
He continued his pace forward.
One step.
Closer
Two steps.
Closer
Three steps.
But still nothing.
He glanced at someone, a woman hiding in the dirt on his side. She would serve. He straightened his arm again, dragging her face roughly on earth through the Force.
She moaned and groaned in pain, but it didn’t reach his ears as all his senses were catching any trace of Obi-Wan finally making a move.
Nothing again.
Vader dropped the woman behind him, starting to lose his temper. He turned to his right, using the force to reveal two people crouching together, trying to hide from him:
A mother and her daughter. That was even better.
Let's see if it would be enough for his former master to decide to face him.
Vader got ready to cause an excruciating death to them when he suddenly sensed it. Despair.
Obi-Wan.
His head snapped to his left.
There was no one there. But he felt it. The Force didn't lie.
Vader smiled slyly. He caught him.
He walked around the village, carrying a sense of certainty about where Obi-Wan was heading when he waited for him in the darkness.
Anticipation ran through his veins, the dark side cheering his rage.
That was it.
That was his moment.
The one he had been waiting for ten long, painfully miserable years.
He first saw him from afar, running and looking over his shoulder, lost in fear, like a prey calling for a predator.
Oh, Master. Vader would give him that.
Obi-Wan stopped, finally noticing him. Vader turned his lightsaber on. His former master's eyes widened, his breath hitching as he grabbed his lightsaber.
But then…
He looked around and ran between the dunes. As quickly as the shock of the act hit Vader, it was replaced by a burst of indignation.
Obi-Wan had the nerve to… run? From their fight? From their confront? After everything?
That coward, frail old man. Vader followed him, using the Force to guide himself.
"You cannot run, Obi-Wan," Vader stated loudly enough for him to hear.
He heard the sound of him turning his lightsaber on. Good. But not enough. Vader wanted to see it.
He approached his former master, thrilled with adrenaline. He breathed heavily, looking at Obi-Wan's face, covered by blue light.
He seemed horrified. As if he couldn't believe in what he was seeing.
"What have you become?" Obi-Wan asked, a whisper of terror.
Vader's anger flamed on. "I am what you made me," He declared, hate dripping from his voice.
Obi-Wan shook his head slightly, then glanced to the side before running there.
This time, no shock held Vader back. He clenched his hands, going after him. If his former master wanted to play, he would toy with him.
He had hunted him for ten years; a small hunt would only make his suffering more tasteful.
This time Vader found Obi-Wan walking quickly, searching his surroundings but committing the mistake of not checking his back for too long.
Vader attacked mercilessly.
Obi-Wan turned in time to defend his attack with his lightsaber, deflecting another and repeating both acts.
And again. And again. And again.
Never gracefully, effortless, or elegantly, as usual of his style. No. Vader's eyes narrowed as he kept attacking, only with one hand, not using a fraction of his power.
Obi-Wan's movements were sloppy, clumsy, and mediocre. Nothing like the man that defeated Anakin years ago, who had trained him once.
"The years have made you weak." Vader spat, disappointed.
Was this what had become of his former master?
Obi-Wan backed away, continuing to deflect and defend, barely keeping up with Vader's rhythm.
He spent years training, improving, learning the secrets of the dark side… for this?
Obi-Wan fell on his back, dragging himself backwards as he struggled to stop Vader's lightsaber, both of them grunting, but Vader more out of rage than effort.
It couldn't be just that.
His former master stumbled up, holding Vader's attack back, weakly.
His moment wouldn't be so disappointing.
He hit his lightsaber continuously on Obi-Wan, then pressed it, forcing him to his knees. For the first time during their fight, Vader finally felt the dark satisfaction he was searching for.
That was Obi-Wan's place. On his knees. Beneath him, as the feeble, traitor he was.
And it only increased when Obi-Wan didn't stay like that, withstanding his strength as he rose, until they were face to face.
Vader smirked.
Yes, that was what he wanted. He would have Obi-Wan's suffering and submission, but it was only right if he fought back. It would make his harsh fall all the more pleasing.
Vader threw Obi-Wan backwards with the Force, enjoying his grunt of pain as he fell on the sand, breathing heavily.
He seemed deplorable. Vader expected more.
"You should have killed me when you had the chance." He said dryly, approaching his former master.
Obi-Wan panted, desperately analyzing the environment as he backed away. His lack of answers were like gasoline on fire, irritating Vader.
Why wouldn't he respond to what Vader said?
He was supposed to be talking back! To tell Vader what a failure he was, how he was disappointed! As he did years ago, like the hypocrite, traitor he was!
Didn't he have the courage to? Was he a coward when it came to that too?
Obi-Wan cut the machine near him with his lightsaber, releasing smoke and running away, again.
Really? Vader scowled.
He liked to toy with his former master, to play with him, but this was getting annoying. He came here for vindication, for vengeance.
And instead, he found a shadow of Obi-Wan that wouldn't even get him the satisfaction of hearing what was in his mind! The truth, as he refused to give him in Mustafar!
It was time for Vader's real goal to get started.
He sauntered to Obi-Wan, who was cornered like an animal, with no way out.
No more games.
He took a load of flammable rocks down with the force, causing them to cover the sand partially.
Vader raised his arm, holding Obi-Wan up in a tight grip as his former master groaned. It wasn’t enough. He pressured, and pressured, until Obi-Wan released his lightsaber.
It was time.
No!
Vader slowly approached his lightsaber to the rocks, a shiver ran up his spine when they all flamed on, seeming like a river of fire. Not as good as a river of lava, but it would serve.
"Now you will suffer, Obi-Wan." Vader said victoriously.
Stop! We don't want that!
He did. And he would enjoy that.
Vader threw him on the fire, watching the show begin as he dragged Obi-Wan's body through the flames. His former master writhed and screamed of agony, to his joy.
The Force tried to fight him, against Vader, but as always, he bent it to his will.
No, no, no!
He ignored the irritating but more and more low voice, preferring to enjoy the smell of Obi-Wan's burned flesh as he squirmed and cried out, his angst echoing in the Force.
"Your pain has just begun." Vader informed him sadistically.
You're killing him!
No. He wouldn’t. He had had much more prepared for him. Obi-Wan would experience a hint of what he put Vader through, and it would start with his whole body being burned.
Then when he was in an even worse state than he let Vader, he would force Obi-Wan's body to heal just so he could burn it again, but this time, in Mustafar's lava.
Vader was so deep into his vivid fantasies forged by Obi-Wan's suffering, that when he heard it, a mere whisper, and felt it-
He wiped the fire and tossed Obi-Wan away from it.
It couldn't be. He hadn't… Vader froze for a moment.
Obi-Wan…. There… is still good in him.
Padmé.
It was her voice. Vader would have recognized it anywhere, in any way. And it came from Obi-Wan's mind, through their bond.
Vader breathed heavily, containing his anger.
Why was Obi-Wan thinking about that? When had Padmé told him that? In her last moments? When she should have been with Vader, safe, and not with him?
He had to know why. How. When. Everything left from Padmé should be his. Even if they were in Obi-Wan's mind.
And he would have it. One way or another.
"Bring him to me." Vader ordered a stormtrooper, who immediately obeyed him.
Vader sensed a small disturbance in the Force.
Normally, it wouldn't have caught his attention, but he instinctively raised his arm, stopping a laser shot that would have hit the same stormtrooper in the air.
He looked at the woman responsible for it, sending the laser shot back and hitting her arm. She yelped and scurried away.
She wasn't important enough for him to chase her.
"Go after her." Vader ordered the stormtroopers, speaking to the one who was already near Obi-Wan, "You too."
They instantly moved.
It was better like that.
It should be just them. As it had always been.
Vader used the force to lift Obi-Wan up, indifferent to his groans of pain as he squirmed in his grip. He dropped Obi-Wan next him, right on his burned side.
He screamed, face crumbling in pain and attempted to move, but Vader didn't let him. Instead, he tried to enter his mind. Even with the obvious lack of training, Obi-Wan's mind was a fortress.
It would take weeks, maybe months to invade it. But there was another entrance.
Vader reached through their bond, hitting the same strong wall he had for years.
"Open the bond," Vader required, his tone leaving no room for disobedience.
His formed master faced him, his features contorted in anguish, but he refused to give him an answer.
He was only making it even more fun for Vader.
If he didn't have what he had planned for now and Obi-Wan wouldn't collaborate, he would make it as excruciating as possible.
Bring the prisoner. Only you. Vader ordered the Third Sister, Reva, through the Force, quickly receiving an answer with a glimpse of her excitement. On the way, Lord Vader.
She had the ruthlessness, coldness and greed needed. The dark side was strong on her, even if her reasons were pitiful.
When he sensed her close, he turned to his former master, "Remember you brought it to yourself, Obi-Wan. All of this."
Obi-Wan gave him a miserable look, full of sadness, guilt and hurt. Vader tightened the indivisible grip in retaliation.
It was an act. His former master had always stood taller, above everything. He was the perfect Jedi, never having attachments or following through them. The best of them.
If he felt anything for Vader, or the dead Anakin, it would be the disappointment of having trained his own downfall.
He didn't care. He never did.
Even when Anakin begged him to stay by his side. In the end, he was just as Sidious told him he was.
"Here, my lord," Reva tossed the Jedi, Nari, near Obi-Wan, then faced him, "As you asked for."
The younger Jedi had been a good acquisition. Vader didn't participate in interrogations of lower level, they were too beneath him.
But when Reva came to him with the information she had ripped from his mind, with a possible location of Obi-Wan… Well, he had personally checked it and formed a plan for him.
"Hold him down and remove the gag, but he is forbidden from speaking and I want his face turned to Obi-Wan. He will look him in the eyes as he causes his suffering," Vader instructed her, who smirked and headed to do it.
"No…" Obi-Wan finally spoke, a desperate murmur as he watched Reva approach Nari.
The younger Jedi was wearing the same clothes he had been captured in, his wrists locked together in handcuffs behind his back, a force suppressant collar on his neck, and a metal gag.
Vader had arranged to torture him in front of Obi-Wan on the way to Mustafar, as a trip entertainment, but he would serve a purpose now.
Reva stepped on Nari's back, right above his hands, and used the force to remove his gag. The effect was instant.
"It's okay, Master Obi-Wan, you don't give-" Nari was interrupted from his self-sacrificing speech by Reva.
"Lord Vader didn't allow you to speak." She snarled, grasping his hair and pulling it up until he grunted in pain, then hit it on the ground.
Nari’s face twisted with the harsh words and Obi-Wan's expression grew even more anguished, and it wasn't because of his pain.
That was where the fun began.
Hey guys! I would love to know what you think of this first chapter full of angst, which I'm sorry for, but the comfort will come soon and it would be amazing to have some feedback to write it better!❤