Author's Notes: As promised, here's Chapter 3. Since I kept you all waiting for so long, I figured I needed to something special. So here's part 2 of the double feature for your reading pleasure!

Please R&R!

III

Bonds

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Luke didn't know how long he lay there, sprawled half on top of the medical cot. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes, but the gentle fingers combing through his hair made every second feel like an eternity.

He couldn't remember the last time he cried like this, so fiercely and unhinged, his whole frame shaking with every breath he took. Even as a boy, it hadn't been in his nature to cry. He'd been afraid of seeming as childish as he sometimes felt, longing for a family that could never be and chasing impossible dreams. There had even been a period in his boyhood when he thought crying was the most shameful thing of all. But now he was here, kneeling on the cold tile next to his father's bed, and it was like a barrier had suddenly lifted from all those times he hadn't allowed himself to weep. He couldn't hold back anymore.

He was undone.

Anakin's hand had paused its stroking, coming to rest firmly on the back of his son's neck and curving there. It was a warm, soothing gesture, and it coaxed Luke to rise up and meet his father's half-lidded gaze. When he was little, Aunt Beru had once told him he had his father's eyes. Knowing that had given him so much comfort growing up. It was like having a little piece of his father with him, something no one could ever take away. Now those eyes were boring into Luke's with keen wonder, still glassy from sleep and straining to remain focused. They blinked through the blur of Anakin's own tears, and regarded the young man leaning over him with a soft smile.

Luke was choking on his own breath, a cross between a laugh and a sob, and he beamed down at his father with two decades' worth of starved joy.

There were no words between the two Skywalkers. Neither felt capable of turning their present thoughts into speech. But Luke could feel the Force pulsing through them, back and forth, flooding them with each other's frantic emotions. The familiarity of the sensation left him breathless. He had never connected with anyone like this before. At best, his pitiable attempts at self-training had only given him a trifling awareness of other people's presence, nothing more than a tug at the edge of his senses. Most of the time he couldn't even tell if what he was feeling was his own imagination or the touch of someone else's mind. But now it was so clear, and so...easy.

Their minds melded together seamlessly. Luke could feel his father's enthralled disbelief, outshined only by a gush of warmth that enveloped Luke in its intensity. The younger Skywalker reached for the other's hand, doing his unpracticed best to return every bit of that warmth while also trying to make sense of everything that overloaded their connection. Joy. Confusion. Worry. Relief. Love. Anakin clasped his son's fingers, even as his arm hung heavily from Luke's hand.

The young rebel felt like he was twelve years old again. There was so much he wanted to say. So much he needed to ask. But even though he had been dreaming of this moment his entire life, he couldn't find the words to say any of it now. In that moment, all he could see was the warmth of blue eyes, drowning him with years of denied tenderness.

His father was alive. He was alive, and he was safe. That was all he could think about, until Anakin's brow began to twist in silent agony.

Fire cut through their joined minds like a bludgeon, and it wrenched Luke back into reality. Anakin shut his eyes. Clenching his jaw beneath the oxygen mask, he began to pull away from their connection, blocking Luke's senses to the sharp flares of pain spreading through his body. But before the link was severed, Luke fumbled to hold fast in an unskilled rush. He felt a spike of foreboding from his father, and the young rebel pressed back on their link through the Force, wanting to reassure him.

"Father. I'm here," he said, shuffling so close their breaths could have mingled. "You're going to be okay. You're safe."

He wouldn't let his father go through this alone, and that's what he tried to convey through their newfound bond. Anakin's breath shuddered in response to his child's Force presence, but still the block between their minds remained stubbornly in place. Unsettled, Luke bit the inside of his cheek, lost in that familiar feeling of helplessness once again.

The next few moments were a blur of activity. A swarm of medical droids crowded into the room and Luke was forced to move out of the way. Anakin was too exhausted to answer any of the medics' questions. He winced from the first glancing contact of the droids' prods, exposing the seriousness of his injuries to all around him. His entire body began to tremble then, and the medics proceeded with greater urgency. All the while, Luke could only stand by in a helpless furor. After a few minutes, the droids suggested a sedative and painkillers, so they could finish their examination without causing their patient any further discomfort. Anakin eyed them uncertainly. Although his face was tight with pain, there was a clear apprehension in his manner as he watched the droids prepare the medication. Eventually, though, he seemed to succumb to the throbbing in his limbs and nodded, no doubt tempted by the promise of quick relief.

During the procedure, his eyes sought out Luke. His son was standing close by, and though he was visibly unsettled, he offered him a comforting smile that proved enough to calm Anakin's unease. The deep crease on his brow softened as he returned the kind gesture, and then he was letting his eyes slide shut, slipping back into gentle oblivion.

Luke, however, was still far from relieved. Once his father was sound asleep, the droids removed the oxygen mask and began to redress his wounds with automated care. First came the gouge on his shoulder, still raw and fresh out of surgery. Then they changed the mess of bacta patches covering Anakin's arms and chest. Luke turned away pointedly, already having had enough of seeing his father's broken body. He didn't know how much more he could take when JD-9 finally came over to him while the others droids continued to work.

"Master Skywalker will sleep for a few hours, Commander," it said, sounding quite pleased. "He'll feel much better when he wakes up. The medication should numb his discomfort considerably. I assure you he's past any serious danger. It's only a matter of repose and careful observation now. We expect he'll be fully recovered in a few weeks."

Luke sighed and leaned heavily against the wall, feeling like a bantha bull had just been lifted off his shoulders. "Thank you, JD. Really," he said, smiling genuinely at the droid.

"It is my pleasure, sir. I shall return at the start of the next cycle to check on him. Do make sure he takes his rest."

"Alright. I will."

Then the medics filed out, wandering off towards the other patients in the med bay, and that's when Luke finally realized there was still someone else in the room.

She had never left.

Leia was beaming happily at him from the corner, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. She was just reaching up to wipe them away when she was suddenly engulfed in the circle of Luke's arms. The princess returned the embrace without hesitation, holding her friend while he laughed and cried simultaneously into her shoulder. She saw no reason to hold back her own tears now, certain that they were nothing more than a surge of delight on behalf of her dear friend.

"Luke?" she called gently, rubbing her hand up and down his back.

"He called me, Leia. I heard him through the Force," he told her breathlessly, pulling back so he could see her. "We met in a dream...or a vision, I'm not sure. But…"

Luke's voice faded, and his face went white as the terrible details of the dream slowly came back him.

Concerned by his change in demeanor, Leia laid her hand on his arm. "What happened?"

"Vader was there," he said gravely. "We fought, and he tried to—"

Leia's eyes had gone wide. "Oh, Luke."

The air in the room had grown colder, and the young rebel leader could feel her skin crawl just at the mention of the emperor's dark enforcer.

"It's just like we said. I know it is," Luke muttered, now staring at the ground like he was about to start pounding it with his fists. "Vader had him. He was holding him prisoner and no one even knew."

The bitterness in Luke's voice was so uncharacteristic that Leia had to stop herself from shuddering. "But it's over now, Luke," she said urgently. "We won't let Vader get to your father. The Alliance will protect our Jedi knights. I promise you."

Luke's scowl softened when she said that, the coils of anger just melting from his brow. Instead, he smiled sheepishly and looked down at the floor between them, a happy realization jolting through him.

"I thought I was going to have to do this all on my own," he said softly. "Learn to be a Jedi, I mean. But to tell you the truth, I never really thought I could do it. Not alone."

He thought of all the frustration and hindered hopes he'd encountered during his naïve experiments with the Force. Everything he tried had felt like a dead end, inadequate and pointless. All he had to work with was the memory of Ben's short-lived lessons, and he had quickly realized that he wasn't good enough to grasp the heart of those lessons on his own.

But Leia was frowning. "You're wrong," she said, pulling his face up by the chin so she could meet his eye. "Luke, I know you could have done it, if it came to that. There's no doubt in my mind."

Luke laughed under his breath, blushing under her intense stare. "Yeah," he said. "But now I won't have to."

It was more than he could have ever hoped for, a chance to learn the ways of the Force from his father. He couldn't imagine anything more natural, or more…right. It should have always been his father teaching him the path of the Jedi. And he knew it would have been, had their family not been torn apart by a madman's spite.

Leia was patting his arm lightly, and her soft touch helped him steer his mind away from that dark place. "Are you alright?" she asked.

He turned to her and smiled. "Yeah," he said. "I'll be fine."

Glancing back at Anakin's sleeping form, so serene now by the mercy of the drugs, he realized he meant it this time. They would both be fine.

Leia followed his gaze, and watched the rise and fall of the legendary Jedi's chest. "High Command asked to be informed as soon as he woke up. They'll want to meet with him, once he's well enough," she said. "Any information he might have about the Empire will be highly useful."

"I know. I'll talk to him," Luke nodded, eyeing her carefully now. "Are you alright?"

Just like Luke, Leia's eyes were still puffy, and her cheeks were stained with dried tears. She wiped them away hastily with her thumb, embarrassed.

"Of course. Just tired," she said, reburying the nameless emotions that had crept upon her. She was a rebel leader, a seasoned fighter and politician. She had seen people being blasted down right in front of her eyes. For many years, she had learned to master the whims of her heart. That was essential when you led a life of war. But now her feelings were brewing up a storm inside her, confused and out of control. What was happening to her?

"I'm going to go report to Mothma now," she said, already turning towards the door, but finding her steps inexplicably heavy. "I'll be back soon."

Luke almost stopped her, filled with a sudden yearning for her to stay. But he knew Leia had a lot work to do. Too much work. He wouldn't bother her with silly requests. She had already done so much for him and his father during these last few days. "Okay. I'll see you later."

The two of them shared a warm smile before Leia stepped out of the room, the glass doors sliding shut behind her. Once again, Luke was left alone with Anakin. But this time around, the weight over his heart felt far less crushing, easily undone by the sight of his father's tranquil demeanor. Feeling at ease for the first time in days, Luke trudged back to his usual spot and settled down on the chair next to the bed.

Out in the hall, Leia was taking a deep calming breath as she made her way out of the ICU. She was so distracted that she almost walked right into a wall of irritating smuggler.

Han was waiting by the entrance to the med bay, balancing a tray overflowing with food between his hands. "Hey. Luke alright?"

"Yes," she told him, secretly taking comfort in his earnest dark eyes. "The General woke up."

"Skywalker's awake?" The plates on the tray shook dangerously when Han spoke. "That's great! Has he said anything? Did you talk to him? What was he like?"

Behind him, Chewbacca also growled in animated curiosity.

"No. He's still very weak. He needs to rest," said Leia, walking past them quickly. "I need to get back to Home One. Are you coming?"

Han and Chewie stared after her, perplexed by her terse manner. Han just rolled his eyes. "Well, of course, your Worshipfulness," he grumbled. "Whatever you say."

Ill humored now, he started to follow Leia, stomping down the corridor until Chewie growled again, motioning for the tray he still carried.

"Ah, right. Is Luke gonna want this, or no?"

Luke fell asleep, slumped forward on the edge of the cot with his head resting over his arms.

He hadn't meant to let it happen, but the waves of fatigue had won him over once again. Blessedly, no dreams disturbed him this time, and he was finally able to take the rest his body was so urgently demanding. By the time he woke up, he felt much better than he had in days, albeit a little stiff around the shoulders.

His eyes blinked open when he felt a jostle on the bed. Lurching awake, he jerked his head up and found his father stirring weakly, warding off the drug induced haze brought on by the sedatives. His movements were slow and heavy, but he didn't seem to be in any pain like before. Relieved to see this, Luke pressed his hand gently over his father's, and watched as those pale blue eyes, so much like his own, slowly settled on him.

"Luke." The name was a rasping sigh, barely a whisper.

"Father," answered Luke, leaning over the bed and lifting their joined hands between them. "I'm here."

Anakin's brow furrowed. His gaze was searching Luke's anxiously. "Are you…" he started, but his voice waned, already out of breath.

"Shh, don't try to talk. Save your strength," Luke urged.

But Anakin shook his head. "In the dream….," he ground out. "Did he hurt you?"

Luke started at the allusion to the dream, the angry red of a lightsaber flashing in his mind's eye. But he shoved the memory out his head.

"No," he said soothingly. "No, I'm alright. Don't worry about me."

Despite his words, his father continued to watch him with a sharp expression, searching Luke's face for any sign of injury he might be trying to conceal. Eventually, he sighed heavily and dropped back, though his eyes remained wary. "I thought...for a moment—"

Luke grasped Anakin's hand even tighter, interrupting him. "It's okay," he whispered emphatically . "He didn't hurt me. I'm okay."

Not that Vader hadn't tried. That depraved monster had been ready to kill him without a shred of remorse, but Anakin had stopped him. Battered and weak as he was, he had stopped Vader. That image would be forever burned into Luke's mind; his father clashing with the most vile man in the galaxy through the sheer power of the Force. It was the most incredible thing he had ever seen in his life, everything he knew his father would be.

Anakin was staring at him now, seeing him but through a barrage of unspoken joy and grief. Eyes glistening, he lifted his hand, the one that was free of Luke's vicegrip, and pressed it gingerly to his son's cheek.

"Luke," he sighed. "My son."

It was more than Luke could bare. All of a sudden, he felt the brunt of a lifetime of loneliness resurfacing, and it was all he could do not to fall apart.

"I thought you were dead," he croaked miserably, pressing his face into his father's palm. "My whole life, everyone told me you were dead."

Anakin seemed confused by this admission, brows rising in surprise. But he shook it aside as he regarded his son. "I thought the same of you," he confessed, voice trembling with subdued emotion. "For years, I believed you never even got to draw your first breath."

Luke ground his teeth. Twenty years, and neither of them had even been aware of each other.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I should have known… I should have known you were still alive. I could have saved you."

Anakin breathed out what could have been a bitter chuckle, and let his hand slide back down to the bed sheets. "No, Luke," he said. "You were just a boy. I'm glad you didn't know about me. You didn't deserve such a cruel burden."

Luke reared up like he'd been slapped. "How can you say that?"

"The truth would have put you in danger," his father said, turning away to stare blankly at an empty spot at the foot of his bed. "It was for the best. At least you were free of that grief, if only for a while."

That sunk into Luke like a gulp of boiling water. He'd had plenty of grief believing his father was dead, but now he wondered what his life would have been like knowing Anakin was actually alive, but hopelessly out of his reach, in the clutches of a killer.

He clenched his jaw. "I wish I could have helped you."

Anakin turned back to face him then, his eyes becoming softer than Luke had ever seen them. All of a sudden, Luke was struck by how ancient his father seemed. It wasn't something he could really define. In terms of looks, Anakin Skywalker could have passed for a man ten years younger. But there was a kind of weariness imbued in the very air surrounding the legendary Jedi—a melancholy that reached Luke through the Force, and pulled viciously at his heart. It made the man appear far older than he surely was.

"But you did, Luke," Anakin said, still holding his son in that doting stare. "You did save me. Learning you were still alive brought me back from the brink of ruin. I don't know what would have become of me, or what I would have done if I had never heard your name. It wrenched me out of the black pit I had buried myself in. You're the reason I'm here right now."

Luke started, utterly dumbstruck by his father's words. A thousand questions were now tumbling over each other in his head, many of which he still wasn't ready to ask. But he couldn't help but brighten as he returned Anakin's fond smile.

But there was one thing he needed to know, something that wouldn't leave him alone until he asked. "How did you know where to find me?"

"You called to me," his father answered.

Luke's eyes widened. "I did?"

Anakin nodded, settling back against the cot. "Through the Force. I could feel your mind reaching out for mine. It led me straight to you."

Somehow, Luke knew exactly what he meant. "During the exercise…" he mumbled to himself, then jerked up excitedly. "Has it ever happen before? Could you hear me?"

Their Force connection had remained constant and unbroken ever since his father first woke up. To Luke, it was almost starting to feel like second nature, as familiar to him as his very own thoughts. He'd even begun to suspect that it had always been there, inherent in his mind, but he'd never recognized it for what it was until Anakin reached back with his more practical knowledge of the Force.

But his father was shaking his head. "No," he said. "That was the first time. It might have been impossible before, i think. Although I did try, almost obsessively, after I found out who you were."

Luke pressed his lips together, now haunted by the spectre of their Force bond; that direct link to his father that had been muzzled into silence his entire life. "It doesn't matter," he said then, looking vehemently in Anakin's eye. "You're here now, that's all I care about. I'm just glad to have my father back."

He was instantly engulfed in a rush of warmth, a reflection of his own candid joy flowing through the Force.

Anakin squeezed their hands together, and met his son's beaming face with his own. "I, as well."

Luke grinned, and then the two of them fell into an easy silence. The air was humming with the distant rumble of the ship's engines, accompanied by the soft rhythmic chattering of the medical equipment. Luke couldn't remember the last time he felt this calm. For a few moments, he could almost pretend like there wasn't a gruesome war happening just beyond the doors of the observation room.

After a while, he noticed his father lowering his gaze, down to their clasped hands. Chalky pale on golden tan, a perfect contrast. He seemed mesmerized for a moment, flexing and unflexing his fingers repeatedly around Luke's. Then he looked sideways at his other arm, lying on top of the bed sheets with a scattered layer of bacta patches. Turning his palm upward, he began to rub his thumb and forefinger together lightly, until his attention shifted to the rest of the observation room.

"Where are we?" he asked, watching the ICU outside through the glass wall.

"Onboard the Alliance medical frigate, the Redemption," answered Luke automatically.

Anakin's eyes remained impassive. He just lay motionless on the narrow bed and continued to stare right past his son with a hollow expression. "The Alliance…"

Luke explained further, worried by the sudden dullness of his father's voice. "Yeah. Do you remember? You dropped out of hyperspace in the middle of the fleet onboard a TIE fighter. You were... badly hurt, so we brought you here. That was three days ago."

Again this had no immediate reaction from the elder Skywalker. _ Letting out a long deep breath, like a quiet surrender to an unseen power, he turned his head back so he could stare at the ceiling above his cot.

"I'm a prisoner, then?" he asked, with nothing short of spiritless submission.

"What?" Luke recoiled. Now it was he who sat frozen in shock. Was that what his father thought? "No! Of course not! We rescued you from the wreckage."

Anakin whipped around. "Rescued me? They—"

Suddenly, his whole body wracked by a bout of violent coughing.

Luke was on his feet in an instant and drew his father up from the bed, supporting him gently around the shoulders until the coughing was done.

"Don't talk anymore. You need to rest," he urged, trying to repel his mounting concern. His father was just unsettled by everything that had happened, he told himself, but Anakin was grasping his sleeve frantically.

"Luke," he said, still heaving hard. "Do they know who I am?"

It took a moment for Luke to make sense of the question. "Some people do," he said. "We couldn't keep it a secret for long. I mean, you're Anakin Skywalker. But don't worry. You're safe here."

That's when his father went rigid in his arms, his hand dropping from his sleeve like a dead weight in a pond. "You don't know."

"What?" Luke felt their Force bond waiver. He fretted, grasping to hold to it. "Father, the Empire won't be able to find us, I promise. They won't hurt you ever again."

But Anakin was shaking his head even before he finished, eyes fraught and disbelieving like the ground had been suddenly wrenched from under him. "You don't know," he mumbled again, and Luke barely heard a whisper echoing in the fading traces of their connection. "Obi-wan…you never told him."

"Told me what?" he asked aloud anxiously, but the question was like a blow to his distraught father.

Anakin tensed even further, breathing hard into the quiet room. What little was left of their mental link had faded behind a cold wall, and Luke was left reeling with startled worry.

"Father—?"

"I'm sorry, my son," Anakin rasped. "I'm so sorry."

Luke thought he'd misheard at first, but the sheer despair in his father's look screamed of a crushing regret that he just couldn't ignore.

"What for?" he asked, struggling to find the tendrils of Anakin's mind again, desperate to find a way to ease his distress.

Every bit of strength seemed to have forsaken his father. He lay limp against Luke, lost within a sea of grief that spilled forth from his eyes in wretched tears. Slowly, he raised a shaking hand to his son's cheek, almost afraid to even touch him now.

He watched Luke intently for the longest time, as if seeing him for the very first time all over again. Luke squirmed under that broken stare. He felt like his father was looking right through him, peering into the very core of his being. But he did not resist. He wanted nothing more than to banish whatever horrors were plaguing his father, and if this moment was of any comfort, then he would give him all of it.

After countless heartbeats, Anakin finally stopped his silent perusal and found his voice again. "I've missed so much," he whispered, stroking his thumb softly under Luke's eye. "You're a grown man. What need could you have of me now? You must hate me."

Luke blinked in indignation. What was his father saying? "No. It wasn't your fault," he said, grasping Anakin's hand in his. "None of it was your fault."

A pitiful laugh, and then Anakin shut his eyes. "You're wrong," he said, already shaking with the force of his mounting sorrow. "It was my fault. Everything that's happened is my fault. I abandoned you."

"Don't say that." Luke's face became twisted, and he shook Anakin gently to strengthen his plea.

All this time, there wasn't a moment when he hadn't worried about his father's state of mind once he woke up. If his worst fears turned out to be true, then he'd known Anakin would require a great deal of help. Anyone would need time to heal after that kind of trauma, but Luke had not expected this heart wrenching self accusation. He was painfully lost for what to do.

Anakin had begun to struggle against Luke's arms, trying to curl away from his son . "You don't know," he said again, while his whole frame shook with half-suppressed sobs. "I'm not what you think I am."

"Stop it," Luke gritted, refusing to let Anakin go. Instead, he pulled him even tighter against his chest, as close as he dared without hurting his injuries.

"You're my father," he plowed on desperately. "That's all I need to know."

And just like that, Anakin crumbled. Luke felt it like a shattering of glass echoing across the Force, as his father's broken cries filled the medical bay. He could only hold him, muttering promises that everything would be alright, while the observation windows and the equipment in the room shuttered in time with Anakin's pained delirium.

Luke was breathing hard. What has Vader done to you?

TBC