"Yes, my Lord, this way." The prison guard led Vader through the prison.

"I will be able to find my way from here," Vader gave a curt nod and walked in the direction the man had pointed.

He did indeed find his way, carefully following the path left by his son's pained footsteps on the path he had taken daily since being captured. Vader could sense that the last time his son had followed the path, he had been sobbing, shaking, and being hit whenever he walked too slowly.

Luke blinked up at Vader when the older man entered his cell. He had been degraded and demeaned for months since his capture, but he never felt as small as he did when he found himself lying at his father's feet once more.

How ashamed he must be. How embarrassed. Seeing me like this, his son, stripped of any kind of dignity, living in my own filth, clutching hopelessly at dreams that will probably never come true, begging for food, for water, and now, even for death. How did I come to this? I just wanted to please my father. I set out to follow in his footsteps, how did I end up lying here, liable to vomit on his boots?

"I have been informed that you have something of mine." Vader boomed, staring down at his son.

A trembling hand slipped into a pocket, and slowly produced a torn triangle of cloth. Slowly, Luke held it out. Vader took it in his hand, and tried to pull it away. Luke's thin, fragile fingers clutched at it for a few more moments, clinging desperately to the one scrap that had given him something to hope for. Vader didn't try any harder, but Luke eventually let go, sadly watching his father place the scrap in a pouch on his belt.

"I'm sorry," Luke croaked.

Vader gazed impassively at the broken child.

Luke took a gasping breath and continued, "I'm sorry that you have to know that I'm your son. I'm sorry you have to go through every day afraid that there will be a leak to the media, divulging that you are the father of scum like me. I'm sorry that I am so pathetic. I'm sorry that I screwed up your life by being born. I'm just sorry for everything! I'm just a pathetic little mistake." He shook his head and buried it in his hands.

"How did you get it?"

"It was last time you were here. It snagged on the door, and the next time it was opened, the scrap fell out."

"Why didn't you report it?"

Luke curled tighter, protecting himself from any anger his father might suddenly unleash. "I don't know. I guess it was because I knew that you could buy a cape made from pure platinum and never miss what it cost. I guess I just thought it wouldn't matter to you. I thought if you cared about it, you'd come back for it."

"Money means nothing to me. But you should not try to keep secrets."

"I'm sorry."

"Have you hidden anything else?"

"No, Father Sir."

Vader stared down at his son in dismay, "What did you call me?"

"It was nothing. I'm sorry, my Lord." Luke mumbled sadly.

Vader gazed down at the child, who had dragged himself into a sitting position. Somehow the child managed to seem even smaller and more melancholy in that position. His head rested on his knees, and his arms wrapped around his lower legs. As Vader watched, the boy's shoulders began to shake.

"What does it matter though, really? I'm just a pathetic little mistake." The mumble was almost inaudible. "Of course, the only thing I ever said that mattered to you would be something I said wrong."

"Stop mumbling." Vader snapped. Luke stopped instantly, but his shoulders were shaking harder. "Now, what were you saying?"

Luke's head snapped up and he cried for the whole galaxy to hear, "I'M SORRY I EXIST!"

"Hush. You want the whole prison to know?"

"Why not? It doesn't really tell them that you're here. Mine is just one more cry in the cacophony. There's no one who will care." Luke's head fell back to his knees.

"Are you frightened?" Vader asked, surprisingly gently.

"Yes. And I'm sorry for that too. You must hate me so much. At least I used to be able to believe that it was unfounded. Now I know why. And I wish I didn't. I hate myself."

Vader felt that he should leave. He had come to take away his son's hope, and he had succeeded in that. His work was done. The boy was crying and hating himself, he was very close to being properly broken.

"Luke, would you like to come home with me today?" Vader asked, knowing the answer already.

Luke's crystalline blue eyes turned to his father's, shining. "Yes."

Vader recoiled in surprise, and then took his son's arm and tried to drag the boy to his feet. The child's legs buckled, however, and he fell back to the floor with a groan of pain.

"Do you have to be carried?" Vader asked.

"I can't come. I can't. I've sworn myself against the Sith. But I do want to come. I really do."

"I had sworn myself too, Luke. Come along now."

Luke shook his head, bloody hair falling into his eyes, "I want to. But I just can't. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Why would you take this cell and torture over everything I can offer you?"

"Leia and Han will be back soon. And when they arrive, it's my job to treat them, because they do the same for me. I promised them."

"Promises can be broken. They are not as binding as you wish them to be."

"Mine are."

"They know, don't they?"

Luke shook his head, "They'd never tell."

"Why did you tell them?" Vader demanded coldly.

"I was scared, all right? Something about all this scared me! I needed someone who understood!"

"They could never understand this, Luke."

"I know. But they understand it better now. I just needed someone else to know."

"I see. Someday, you will learn how to live without them."

Luke shook his head, "No."

"Someday you will have to."

"I know."

"They might be scheduled for death tomorrow."

"I know."

"If they were to die, would you join me?"

"If they were to die, it would only be two more people I love that you've killed."

"That's a no, then?"

"They'll be back any moment, bringing their guards with them. The guards will see us speaking like this, and will probably put two and two together." Luke warned quietly. "So you'd better go."

Vader turned to leave, but just as he started moving away from the cell, there was a terrible choking sound from within. He spun on his heel, back to where his son knelt in the filthiest corner of his cell, choking on something Vader couldn't see.

"Luke!" He ran back to the boy, kneeling beside him, "What is it? What are you choking on?"

The boy just made more of the horrible sounds, shaking as his body tried to get the thing out.

What did he have to choke on? Vader surveyed the cell. He saw nothing the child could have gotten lodged in his throat. Then his gaze fell on the rags hanging from his child's body. I didn't hurt him so badly that he's trying to kill himself, did I? He wouldn't just start swallowing his clothing to end himself. But when he was crying, his face buried against his knees. Oh, Force, he could have been tearing scraps off in his teeth.

"Luke, what is it? What's happening?"

Luke was in no state to answer.

What am I doing? I should be calling medics!

A medic could never get here in time. I have to do this myself. Cold certainty crept through him.

He took his son's shaking hand and reached out in the Force. He couldn't sense any kind of solid in the boy's system, something that would worry him later. There was, however, a great deal of slimy acid. Vader used the Force to pull it from his son's mouth, trying to ignore the boy's frightened screams of pain at the unnatural motion.

Finally, the shaking boy fell against his father's side, the little pool of phlegm sitting before his open mouth. He stayed on all fours crying and staring at the little puddle for several minutes. Vader stood up, finally, assuming that his son knew how automatic the motions of rescue had been, and was therefore ignoring the moment.

"D-don't go yet. Please." Luke's dull eyes were turned to Vader.

Vader hesitated, surprised by the request. Luke's eyes turned downwards again.

"Never mind. It doesn't matter. I don't matter." He fell, and Vader realized why that corner was so much dirtier than the rest of the cell. There wasn't a 'fresher. His son had fallen in the boy's substitute, and he seemed to show no inclination to rise. "And if I do matter at all, Leia and Han will be back soon. They'll be able to help. I know you have more important things to be doing than being here."

Vader nodded slowly. Technically, it was true. He had seen that his son was very nearly broken, and would be leaving him feeling worse. But something about the broken body lying in the… mess made Vader want to return to his son and protect him. Stay with him, in case he had not removed all the substance that had nearly killed the boy while he watched.

"It's not the first time it's happened." Luke said. Vader was unsure whether the boy was trying to convince his father that he was going to be all right, or himself, or perhaps he was trying to make Vader feel guilty for leaving him.

"Get out of that muck." He commanded finally.

Luke dragged himself back to his hands and knees, and managed to fall away from it. Vader looked at the child in exasperation, but he could see Luke panting, and knew that it was the best the boy could manage.

He used the Force to move his son away.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me, child." I came to steal your hope. Vader looked back at the boy in the cell one last time. He was shaking again, shivering. Vader walked over and surprised himself by taking off his cape and wrapping it around the fragile body. Then he stood again, eager to leave before his son's friends and guards returned.