Chapter Text
Where were you when he was killing my friends? He was your padawan, why didn’t you stop him, why didn’t you save us?
On a ship hovering outside the gravitational pull of Jabiim, Darth Vader paused mid-step on the way to the shuttle bay, as an old bond was tugged, and a deep pain filtered across it for the first time in more than a decade. He hadn’t felt anything like it in twelve years, as Sith masters use pain and discipline to keep their padawans in line. But he knew this force presence like he knew the daily pain of a body that could not be healed and was instantly filled with rage, his hand twitching, aching to reach for his sabre and maim the closest thing to him.
Obi-Wan Kenobi, he thought, and a part of him, long buried, and something he had thought destroyed along with this damned training link, force curse it, responded to the name with happiness, the thought of Master reverberating through him before Vader crushed it like he had a thousand times before.
He focused instead on the cloak of darkness that he was shrouded in and let his ever present anger and hatred feed it. Like a river set free from its dam, the force responded to him, and Vader luxuriated as it coursed through him until the force lay open before him like a glorious buffet, ripe and perfect and all his for the taking.
Channeling the dark side of the force, Vader expanded his awareness and examined his mind more thoroughly than he had in many years. He reached into the depths of his consciousness and it was there that he was shocked to find a tenous bond still hanging on to the very last vestiges of his old self.
His first instinct was to grasp it and rip it out, but then he paused.
He was not the brash young idiot he had been, and he now knew the value of thinking before acting. He had spent the last ten years learning things that the jedi could never fathom. He had researched and read, traveled and was taught mysteries and depths that the jedi were too scared to dive to. Yet, even with all this, he knew very little about force bonds, because there was nothing written about force bonds. Training bonds were well understood, but they were usually severed after ten to twelve years and then the master and padawan are supposed to separate themselves from each other, physically and emotionally, thereby destroying that training link.
Vader was fully aware that his old self and Obi-Wan had done nothing like that, and instead had continued living together long after it was expected he would apply for his own rooms. After that, they had then spent three messy years in a messy war in a closeness that had seldom been seen before.
Drawing his attention back to the present, Vader stared at the bond, examining it.
It was very nearly dead, as he had thought - which was probably the reason he had completely forgotten about it all this time. It was waving about in the vastness of the force that echoed between him and Obi-Wan as though it were a rope caught in the currents of a calm sea, and yet, it looked different to the training bonds he had seen in his youth, when, in boredom, he had bothered to look. This link was not a thin string between two people, but a golden heavily braided rope firmly attached in both their spirits, albeit one strong push away from total severance.
Destroy it, whispered the darkness and Vader agreed, wary of the strange foreign feeling that tasted like hope hanging around it, pushing at his carefully crafted shields. Reaching into the force, he drew the darkness closer, the burning pain of using it centering him, and he focused on that bond – the training bond, the bond Obi-Wan should have dissolved but never did for reasons he had never disclosed – and was about to rip it out when another thought came to him -
Feed it, something whispered, feed it, and feel him again.
For a moment, time was completely suspended, and Vader could hear, see, and feel nothing except the glow from the bond, and for the first time in a decade he felt…curious.
So, against his better judgement, and the voice of his Master Sidious in his head, he didn’t stop to think and instead fed the bond with his own power, pouring himself into it. He watched in equal parts apprehension and amazement as a current tore through the bond, and the gold became intertwined with a dark red, the strands themselves seeming to harden and twine still deeper into and around one another. Where before it was hanging loose, suddenly the bond was taught, revolving slowly, as if on an axis. It was hypnotizing, and alluring, and Vader could bask all day it in, because the pain - his pain - was gone - the pain in his back, his phantom legs, his whole body – it was gone -
Then Vader’s senses were assaulted with images and feelings not his own –
A dark cave -
A cold metal door, a red sabre, fear -
A little girl’s face, an explosion, throwing him back -
The loss of a friend and then crushing grief, a crying child –
And then just as suddenly, it was cut off, as there was a sharp recoil from the other end, and a touch of light so bright Vader found himself tearing away from it, the feeling so unfamiliar to him now that it almost felt like being burnt alive again on Mustafar as the sheer goodness of Obi-Wan’s light washed over him, un-shielded as he was.
With a gasp Vader reeled away again and opened eyes he had not realized he had closed. Blinking in the bright light that came as standard on empire star destroyers, Vader pulled himself back to reality and realized he had stopped walking and was standing still in the middle of the corridor, only his breaths through the respirator making any sound as fear suffused the air around him.
Feeling dizzy, a buzzing, ringing sound in his ears, Vader dismissed his guards with a wave of his gloved hand and turned one hundred and eighty degrees to walk back down the corridor to his quarters.
His footsteps bounced off the walls as he walked and people jumped out of the way as he made his way through.
The interior of the ship itself was of the design that he preferred, all black, high ceilings with curved arches, and shining metal filigree, completed with engines so smooth the destroyer barely made a sound, cool air washing over the inhabitants and tasting like home.
Vader marched through it with a practiced ease, knowing the corridors better than he knew his new home on Mustafar. This was the kind of design that Obi-Wan had never allowed him to have before because Anakin, we’re jedi not kings.
Vader shook his head as a pulse of light came through the bond, rattling him to his core and taking his power greedily.
As he walked, Vader realised that there was a big problem growing in the back of his mind, increasing in scale with every breath he drew. Even though he had been the one to feed the damn thing, the bond was now also drawing power from Ob-Wan, and the light side of the force was nauseating in its purity. Vader tried to reach for the dark side of the force, but the anger and hatred were harder to hold onto with his thoughts in such a mess.
Well, Obi-Wan, you are a jedi, I am a king, Vader thought viciously, returning to his previous train of thought, trying to regain some of the loathing and pride that had driven him like a madman the last ten years, ripping the galaxy apart in search of the man who was so close now, so close.
He focused his mind again as he rounded another corner, and drew the snake-like tendrils of shadow that he bore for the man closer, the man he once thought he had lo – no, the man he had been fooled into thinking he lov – THAT man –
Vader blinked again and suddenly he was in his quarters.
There was a dead officer at his feet, his neck at an odd angle, every bone in his body cracked and blood slowly oozing out onto the hard black metal floor, the tang of iron in the air a welcome reminder that this was his reality now, and he liked it.
The hazy aftermath left by the surge of power from the dark side of the force was strong, though, cloying, and sickly sweet, so much so that even Vader was feeling weighed down by it.
Rip, kill, take, he’s yours, it whispered, circling his mind, he’s yours for revenge. He’s yours to burn. You can destroy his mind. Reach for it. He is weak.
Taking another laboured breath, Vader shook his head again as if to physically clear it. He wanted to reach for the bond but it wasn’t for the reason the darkness whispered. It wasn’t to hurt Obi-Wan.
Ashamed though he was to admit it, Vader wanted to bask in that bond again, because it was real, and it was strong and it was – it was - good.
Vader groaned, putting a hand to his head, though it didn’t help overmuch given he had his helmet on.
The helmet.
The suit.
The pain.
The battle on Mustafar.
He tried to remember all the reasons that had led him to this moment. His eyes fell on the bacta tank that was his bed, taking up most of these quarters, and allowed the indignity and suffering he had endured all these years build up in a well of resentment in his chest. He pulled the darkness from this pit, in an attempt to rebuild his mental shields and get away from the bond, but another pulse of light made him lose his control and instead the force surged past him and out of his grasp.
Ten years of training seemed to go out the window as a maelstrom of darkness whirled around the cabin, throwing furniture and items around, shaking the very ship, metal groaning against the power coursing through him.
Vader knew better than this, he could control himself better than this –
A little girl dressed in white, hair done up in plaits, running to him with a look of pure joy, hugging him, and love, love nothing but love, she was safe, he loved her, this child, his child –
The damned bond!
Vader attempted to seal the bond but couldn't focus enough to control the darkness now he had unleashed it, and before he could stop it, every moment of pain, every moment of agony he had felt over the last few years were transmitted across the bond with a vehemence that would have knocked down a platoon of men if it had been directed at them. As it was, it went directly over, to Obi-Wan and the touch of light that came as his old master’s mental shields were battered down was quickly replaced with pain, pain, pain –
Then Obi-Wan was screaming in anguish, his voice resonating through Vader’s head as though he were standing next to him, and the dead part of Vader howled in reciprocal pain too.
Vader tried to separate himself and enjoy it, this torture.
He tried to remember how he felt only a few days ago as he dragged Obi-Wan through the fire and his screams fed the darkness, and made him stronger, better, faster, but then there was a mess of memories and voices that he hadn’t heard in the longest time ramming against his own unshielded mind –
Anakin, can you clean up the living room, please, I have to do the Alderaan shuffle just to get to the kitchen –
Anakin, I saw this in the market and thought it could help you build that droid –
Ani! It’s so good to see you again –
Anakin, you didn’t have to get me anything for my birthday, it’s not done between masters and padawans but…I thank –
Anakin, I’m very proud of you –
Vader let out a shout of frustration and felt himself dropping to his knees as more and more of his buried life kept flashing in front of his eyes.
He didn’t want this!
He was Lord Vader, and the right hand of the emperor. He had built a new and better world, one free of the lies told by a corrupt senate and a meddling and untrustworthy jedi council.
The jedi were evil – he had eradicated them. He had enjoyed looking into every face of every master as he sliced them up, and the memories still brought him joy. He would kill them again if he could.
He would kill every child again, if he could, if it meant a world free from jedi control.
The darkness swirled around him, and reaching into the last of his reserves, Anakin pulled on it.
Red hot, and burning, the darkness sliced into him, and he allowed it to, soaking it in, remembering the whispered words of his Master, the lashes, the beatings, and the starvation, all of which made him the powerhouse he was, that unlocked his true power, the unlimited potential that Sidious had given to him. He remembered that feeling of victory as he marched out of the Jedi temple, his boots soaked with blood.
He. Was. A. Sith.
He convulsed as a pulse of light came back across the bond –
That fucking bond, he never should have touched it -
Obi-Wan was asleep, a book on his chest, slouched on the couch, his neck at an angle that he was going to regret the next day and Anakin was filled with fondness -
Obi-Wan was covered in blood as he stepped off the cruiser and Anakin was eleven and scared, so scared, but Obi-Wan allowed him to run up to him and into a hug, even though the other padawans just bowed and greeted their returning masters, Anakin needed this, and Obi-Wan knew that, and let him, he lov-
Obi-Wan was sitting across from him, eating, just eating, but it was a warm Coruscant night, and the sounds of the city behind them and far below filtered up through the humid air, and Obi-Wan met his eyes and smiled, saying -
Obi-Wan was laughing, his beard just grown out, his hair short, his face unlined with pain and worry, as he mock-duelled the padawans out in the temple square, teaching even as he played with them, and Anakin had turned seventeen the other week and knew he was lost, that he was in lo-
With a scream, Vader cut himself off from the force altogether, and suddenly there was silence, and he was panting, on his hands and knees, on the floor, his expressionless reflection staring up at him.
He should never have touched that bond.
What had he done?