The sands of Tatooine kick up into a small storm, sending a cloud of the pesky grains flying towards Luke's face. He covers his eyes on instinct. Experience tells him that if he gets sand in his eyes, it will never come out.

He should wonder why he's on Tatooine. Or at least, how he got there. But something about it feels right. He's meant to be here in this moment. The Force tells him as much.

He uncovers his eyes and spots a shop in the distance, like one he would see when visiting Mos Espa or Mos Eisley. It appears to him like a mirage in the unnaturally strong sandstorm. It's as if the Force has painted a giant red X to mark the spot. There's no doubt in his mind that he's meant to go into this shop. So, squinting his eyes against the onslaught of wind, he trundles towards the shop.

The second he enters, the howling from the turbulent storm ceases. As if it was just a figment of his imagination. Or maybe the shop itself is a figment of his imagination.

He ventures further into the shop, glancing around at the various piles of junk laying around. There's no better way to describe it. Pieces of an engine belonging to a Skyhopper, a half built vaporator, and the dome of an astromech droid all lay amongst pieces of scrap metal and wires.

It's a junk shop. He's visited a few on the rare occasions Uncle Owen brought him to Mos Espa. They're usually run by "unsavory characters", as his uncle would call them, so he usually had to duck in and out quickly so not to be caught. His memories of those times are faint, but he could still swear he's never been in this exact junk shop before.

The distant chatter of voices lures him deeper into the shop. As he walks, he continues to marvel at the treasure trove of spare parts lining the walls. It would take him weeks to sort through all the nuts and bolts to find enough parts to make something worthwhile. The thought sends a jolt of excitement up his spine.

If there's one thing he misses about Tatooine, it's all the spare time he had to work on his mechanical skills.

He spots a young girl and an even younger boy around the center of the shop. The girl is looking around with some of the same wonder that Luke held when he first entered. The little boy, on the other hand, is too busy staring at the girl as if she's a deep space creature he's never seen before. Luke feels oddly like he's intruding.

"Excuse me?" he calls to them. They don't make any move to show they heard him. It's as if he isn't there at all.

So he's invisible as well. Considering the year he's had, it isn't the strangest thing that's ever happened to him.

He takes advantage of his unusual situation and walks closer to them to get a better look.

"Are you an angel?" the little boy asks.

The girl turns around to face him, and Luke nearly gasps. A powerful surge of familiarity blasts through him when he gets a good look at her. Her chocolate brown eyes are warm and kind, her hair is done up in an elaborate braid that outs her as a stranger to Tatooine, and she has an air of regality to her. He has no idea who she is or where he may have met her before, but he knows her. The feeling is too powerful to deny.

"What?" she asks.

"An angel," the boy repeats. "I've heard the deep space pilots talk about them. They live on the moons of Iego, I think. They're the most beautiful creatures in the universe."

Luke can't help but crack a smile at the boy's awe. Neither can the girl, it appears. She gives him an amused grin that makes her whole face light up. Luke's chest constricts painfully for reasons he can't understand.

Her smile could make flowers grow in the desert.

"You're a funny little boy. How do you know so much?"

"I listen to all the traders and star pilots who come through here," he responds eagerly. "I'm a pilot, you know, and someday I'm going to fly away from this place."

Luke swears he can remember himself saying the exact same thing dozens of times while he lived on Tatooine, from the time he was as young as the boy sitting next to him until the day he left for good. It's eerie to hear his own words coming from another sandy-haired, blue eyed kid.

"You're a pilot?" the girls asks, obviously disbelieving.

"Mmhm. All my life."

"How long have you been here?"

Luke furrows his brow. Does she mean Tatooine? Or the junk shop? Does the little boy's family run the shop?

"Since I was very little," the boy answers. "Three, I think. My mom and I were sold to Gardulla the Hutt, but she lost us betting on the pod races."

He's a slave in this shop, Luke realizes in disgust. Slavery in the Outer Rim Territories is widely ignored, even encouraged by the Empire. His aunt and uncle did their best to shield him from it, but even they couldn't stop him from catching glimpses of secret auctions taking place in Mos Espa. He grew up knowing he was the first freeborn child in a long line of slaves. The topic never fails to make his stomach turn over.

The girl obviously feels the same way. Her eyebrows knit together in confusion, as if she didn't know that slavery was a common practice.

She must be from one of the core worlds, Luke thinks.

"You're a slave?" she asks.

The boy's little nose scrunches up in anger at the degrading title coming from the girl's mouth.

"I'm a person, and my name is Anakin!"

It feels as though Luke's entire galaxy tips a little further sideways.

He finally really looks at the boy — Anakin — and realizes he's looking at a near exact copy of himself as a child. Not just the hair and the eyes, but the chin and the nimble fingers and the wanderlust as well. The Force whispers to him and all doubts leave his mind. This boy is his father.

Aunt Beru told him that his father and his grandmother Shmi were slaves, but he foolishly never made the connection between Anakin Skywalker being a slave and Darth Vader being a slave. In a way, he still views Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader as two separate beings. It never occurred to him that Vader was that boy born into slavery.

Sympathy for him rises in Luke's chest. He doesn't want to feel sympathy for Vader, but it's hard not to when he's looking at this round-faced little boy in raggedy clothes. This is who Vader was. Not an unfeeling monster, but a bright eyed, excitable little kid who had the misfortunate of being born a slave to a Hutt of all things. And Luke knows how the Hutts treat their slaves. His emotions are a maelstrom of anger, confusion, and a deep, deep sadness.

Luke turns his head and the scene in front of him vanishes. He blinks his eyes rapidly to adjust to the sudden darkness he's been plunged into. Wherever he is now, it's dimly lit by fire light. Two shadowy figures materialize before him. He squints to get a better look at them.

One is a young man, around the same age as Luke. In his arms is the prone figure of an older woman. Luke steps closer to get a better look at the woman's face and reels back in shock. She's badly beaten, bleeding out of lacerations that cover her head. Her heavy-lidded eyes are clouded over, probably from pain. It looks like she barely knows where she is.

"Ani?" she murmurs. "Is that you?"

Once again, Luke is looking at a younger version of his father.

"Yeah, Mom," he responds, with the utmost gentleness in his voice. "You're safe."

Seeing Vader's — or should he say, Anakin's — clear devotion to his mother makes Luke uncomfortable, like he shouldn't be witnessing this moment. There's already enough conflicting feelings when it comes to how he views his father, he doesn't need more. He barely resists the urge to look away. If the Force wants him to see this, then he needs to see it.

"Ani?" she repeats, dazed. "Ani? You look so handsome."

Even in her weakened state, she manages a smile and reaches up to gently stroke her son's face. Anakin kisses his mother's palm. The tenderness of the entire display makes tears unexpectedly begin to form in Luke's eyes.

He's seen Shmi's grave and listened to the stories Uncle Owen told him. He knows how this ends.

"My son. My grown up son. I'm so proud of you, honey."

Anakin smiles sadly.

"I missed you," he whispers.

If their exchange is any indication, they must have been separated for quite some time. Captain Piett's words come back to haunt him.

"From what I remember, the Jedi weren't allowed to have spouses or children."

If they weren't allowed the love of a spouse or the love of their child, why would they be allowed the love of a parent?

The revelation makes the tears prickling Luke's eyes finally fall.

Shmi's hand falls weakly from Anakin's cheek, trailing down to his chin.

"Now I am complete," she whispers.

Luke tries to wipe away his tears, but they only fall faster. He wonders if that's how Vader felt when he found out he had a son. Is Vader capable of giving the same love to his son that his own mother gave to him?

"I love…," Shmi croaks out. She's nearing the end, and both Luke and Anakin can tell.

"Stay with me, Mom," Anakin demands. "Everything…"

His weary smile drops off with his words.

Shmi's hand falls limply to the ground, her head lolling to the side. Luke feels her life drain away through the Force as if he's really in the moment and not just observing through his bubble of time. Then he feels Anakin's pain.

It hits him like a punch to the gut. The grief overwhelms him, bringing him to his knees. He feels as though all the life has been sucked right out of him and he's falling down a deep, dark hole. Anakin's feelings have become his own.

Then the anger comes on.

Luke's body starts to tremble uncontrollably. An intense, all-consuming rage wracks his body. His thoughts don't feel like his own; they scream at him to take revenge on those monsters.

They don't deserve to live, a voice whispers in his mind.

He glances up at Anakin. The other man is staring straight forward, his expression harder than stone. But it's his eyes that terrify Luke the most. They're cold, completely devoid of any emotion. He doesn't look anything like the curious little boy from the junk shop on Tatooine.

He looks like Vader.

Anakin places his mother's body down and rises to his feet. His hand lingers on the lightsaber hanging from his belt as he exits the tent. Luke stumbles after him.

"Stop!" he screams. "You don't have to do this!"

He knows Anakin can't hear him, but he has to try. If he tries hard enough, maybe he can break through this wall keeping them apart. He's not willing to stand by and witness a slaughter.

Anakin ignites his lightsaber and charges forward with Luke close behind. Luke attempts to reach out and grab Anakin by the shoulder, but his hand stops short. It feels as though a force-field surrounds Anakin's body, pushing Luke away.

"No, no, no!" Luke shouts. "Anakin! Please, this won't bring her back!"

But it's too late. He watches in horror as Anakin rushes at the village of Sand People; a village he knows is full of innocent women and children.

Luke shuts his eyes tightly and clamps his hands over his ears in preparation for the massacre to come. Any moment now, the blood curdling screams should start.

A few tense moments pass. Then a few more. Then a few more. He hesitantly opens his eyes, hoping to see Anakin backing away from the village.

It doesn't take long for him to realize he's no longer on Tatooine. He's staring down at red carpeted floors and hearing the heavy traffic of speeders flying overhead.

He takes his eyes off the floor and scans the area. Two rows of giant marble pillars surround him, one on either side. The carpet he's standing on leads up to a giant set of doors that a group of important looking people are leisurely walking to.

The building reminds him of the few holos he's seen of the Imperial palace. He's always wondered why one man sees the need to live alone in such an impossibly huge building.

He strolls towards the pillars on instinct. If he's here, that must mean the Force wants to show him something. It's only a matter of finding what that something is.

When he spots a man darting behind a pillar, he has no doubt that he's supposed to follow him.

Luke runs up to the man, who is no longer alone. He's embracing a woman in a dark cloak. She must have blended in with the shadows cast by the massive pillar. Despite the shadows, and the man's change in hairstyle, Luke knows this is Anakin. Who the woman is, though, he's unsure.

"I've missed you, Padmé," Anakin whispers.

Vader's words from the day prior reverberate in Luke's head.

"Her name. It was Padmé."

This woman, held tightly in Anakin's arms, is Luke's mother.

A sob catches in his throat. The amount of emotion swirling around in his head just from seeing her shocks him. Even as a child, it was his father he dreamed about meeting the most. Anakin was his hero. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru had no stories to tell him about his mother. He knew it was useless to question them on the matter, so he let the faint image he had of her in his head die out as he got older.

Now here she is in front of him, more beautiful than he ever could have imagined. He never knew her, yet she feels so familiar to him. It's as if he can remember her from his first few moments of life, when she was still living. It's impossible, of course, but the love and kindness that emanate off of her makes him feel more at home than he's felt in years.

"There were whispers…" she pants. "That you had been killed."

Anakin gives her a cocky grin.

"I'm alright."

He starts to pull her in closer. Even in the partial darkness, Luke can see the look on Anakin's face. The absolute love and devotion he feels for Luke's mother is reflected in a soft smile and a joyful gleam in his eyes. Luke feels the sudden urge to turn away. Not only does he feel like he's intruding on a deeply private moment, but it's uncomfortable to see a man who will one day become Darth Vader openly show love. As far as he's concerned, Vader is only capable of hate.

"It feels like we've been apart for a lifetime," Anakin laments. "It might have been if the Chancellor hadn't been kidnapped. I don't think they ever would have brought us back from the Outer Rim sieges."

He moves closer and closer as he speaks, aiming for a kiss. Padmé pulls back.

"Not here," she insists.

"Yes, here," Anakin fires back. "I-I'm tired of all this deception, I don't care if they know we're married."

Married? Luke knew from what little Vader revealed that he loved his mother, but he never would have guessed that they were married. Weren't the Jedi were forbidden from marrying?

"Anakin, don't say things like that," Luke hears Padmé chastise.

Luke can just barely see the crestfallen expression on Anakin's face as he goes back in to embrace Padmé. Luke scrutinizes his mother's small form; at least, small in comparison to Anakin. She seems… uncomfortable in Anakin's grip. He can see her body shaking through the thick robes she wears.

Is she scared of Anakin? Was Luke mistaken in assuming Anakin was a good husband to Padmé?

"Are you alright?" Anakin asks, pulling away from her. "You're trembling. What's going on?"

The concern dripping from Anakin's voice makes Luke feel slightly ashamed for even thinking that he could be a danger to Padmé. The love he feels for her is plain to see in his voice, his eyes, and even in the way he holds her.

"Something wonderful has happened," she replies shakily.

Luke isn't convinced by her tone that whatever is going to come out of her mouth next will be all that "wonderful".

"Ani… I'm pregnant."

The shock on Anakin's face mirrors Luke's.

'Something wonderful', she had said. His mother thought his impending arrival was wonderful.

Tears sting the back of his eyes. To know his mother had wanted him feels like being wrapped in a warm blanket. It's a love he never knew he needed. And for the briefest moment, his mind conjures up a fuzzy image of a woman; weak and sad, but bursting with love as she looked down at him and whispered, "Luke."

"That's… um…"

Luke is slammed back into reality.

His mother may have wanted him, but he's not sure if his father felt the same way.

"Th-That's wonderful!"

The ear-to-ear smile on Anakin's face tells Luke that he's being genuine. Relief fills him, warring with confusion. He shouldn't be this giddy knowing Anakin had been excited to have a child. This is the same man who blew up Leia's home planet, who violated his memories, who is keeping him hostage at this very moment.

But looking at Anakin now, he can't see the Vader in him.

"What are we gonna do?" Padmé asks.

Anakin lets out an easy laugh and shakes his head.

"We're not gonna worry about anything right now," he insists. "Alright? This is a happy moment."

Through the force, all Luke can feel is love, joy, and hope; so much hope.

"The happiest moment of my life."

Those words nearly knock Luke off his feet. To know that Anakin – Vader? Anakin? Father? – had cared for him before he was even born makes him dizzy. Does Vader look at him now and think of this?

He blinks and his parents are gone, along with the elegant pillars and velvet carpets. Instead, he's surrounded by volcanoes and rivers of lava. The air is suffocating. Every time he inhales, soot enters his lungs, making each breath more labored. It takes him a few more seconds of adjusting to the change in location to realize that he's moving. He looks down at his feet and sees himself standing on what appears to be a scrap of metal floating quickly down a lava stream.

The crashing sounds of lightsabers dueling beside him catches his attention. He turns his head to see two men engaged in a fierce battle, moving so quickly that he can barely make out any details about either of their appearances. Their weapons come dangerously close to Luke's face, but he knows he cannot be harmed. He's not really here.

The makeshift raft comes to a swift halt near a hill. One of the men throws himself off the hunk of metal and onto the solid ground, and Luke finally gets a good look at him. He's a bearded, auburn-haired man, no older than 35 standard years. His appearance is unfamiliar to Luke, but he knows who this man is. The Force whispers it to him.

It's Ben.

"It's over, Anakin. I have the high ground."

Luke whips his head around to gaze at the man beside him. This man has the same build as Anakin, the same hair as Anakin, the same face shape as Anakin, even the same scar in the same place as Anakin. But he doesn't quite look like Anakin. At least, not the Anakin that Luke has seen in his past visions. The Anakin he saw before was a good man, if not a bit confused about his place in the galaxy. Even when he slaughtered the Sand People, he did it out of misplaced anger avenging someone he loved.

This Anakin only radiates hatred out of his yellow eyes.

Luke jumps across the small chasm onto the hill without a second thought. He doesn't want to be near that man who claims to be Anakin. He feels too much like Vader, but he wears the face of Luke's father. Even looking at him feels like a knife is being twisted into his stomach, like a physical reminder that Anakin and Vader are one and the same.

"You underestimate my power," Anakin boasts.

"Don't try it."

Ben's words come out as more of a plea than a warning. Luke doesn't believe it's because Ben doesn't have faith in his ability to defeat Anakin.

It's because he doesn't want to hurt him.

Anakin lunges towards him with his lightsaber drawn, seemingly about to go for his head. Ben's reflexes are sharper, and he swings his lightsaber to connect with Anakin before he's able to land.

The smell of burning flesh is what hits Luke first. It's a cloying, unmistakable scent that he's encountered too many times to count. He looks down at his feet and sees what looks like two logs rolling down towards the lava. Choking back vomit, he realizes that he's looking at a pair of severed legs. Anakin lays in front of him, desperately trying to crawl back up the hill. His face is twisted from a pain that Luke can't even begin to imagine.

Luke drops to his knees, horrified by the sight of his mutilated father. This isn't right. It doesn't feel right.

"You were the chosen one!" Ben shouts. "It was said you would destroy the Sith, not join them! Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness!"

Luke doesn't have time to wonder what he means by "the chosen one". He's too busy staring at Anakin's helpless form as he grunts and groans, desperately trying to escape the lava crawling up towards him. Luke wishes he could reach down and take his hand. If only the Force would let him.

The futility of his attempts seems to finally hit Anakin, his face twisting in anger.

"I hate you!" he spits at Ben.

Despair rolls off Ben in waves. It pours over Luke, paralyzing him. He's felt this kind of sadness from Ben before, years and years after this moment, on Tatooine. It was far more controlled and less potent, but ever present, even to Luke's untrained senses. For the short amount of time that Luke knew Ben, there was a glassiness to his gaze. It was if his mind was always somewhere else.

Now Luke knows where his mind was. It was stuck here, on Mustafar.

"You were my brother, Anakin," Ben cries out. "I loved you."

A look passes over Anakin's face in a rare display of vulnerability. Luke can see so many emotions in the brief flicker in his yellow eyes; regret, uncertainty, fear, and a few others that he can't put a name to. But to Luke, it just proves that Anakin isn't too far gone. Not yet.

The stump where his leg used to be attached touches the lava, instantly catching on fire. Luke watches in horror as it crawls up Anakin's body and begins to consume him. He lets out a terrible, guttural scream that makes Luke's stomach turn over. It's the kind of scream born of pure agony, when someone's in so much pain that death will inevitably follow.

Luke turns to Ben, hoping against all hope that he's going to do put out the flames and save Anakin from sure death. But Ben is just staring at Anakin, snatching his discarded lightsaber off the ground. He looks as agonized as Luke feels. His body is leaning towards Anakin, as if he's fighting with the urge to reach out and help him.

He turns his back to him instead.

"Ben, no," Luke begs.

He casts a lingering glance at Anakin's smoldering body before stumbling after Ben.

"Please Ben, he can be saved," he pleads. "You can't just leave him like this!"

Of course, Ben doesn't hear him. But Luke keeps begging. He begs until he's no longer aware of what comes out of his mouth. All he knows is how wrong it feels to leave Anakin to die such a horrible death. There was good in him, Luke could feel it. It was a small spark of light hidden in pain, sadness, and regret, so much regret.

Ben stops in his tracks in front of a limp, heavily pregnant woman strewn across the launch pad.

Luke's mother.

Ben bends down and lifts her up with the utmost care, carrying her to the ship in front of them.

"Mother?" Luke whispers, following close behind. "What happened to you?"

As far as Luke can tell, she's still alive. Her chest rises and falls with her shallow breaths.

But he can feel her life draining before his eyes. He knows that in a matter of hours, he'll be born and she'll be dead. Then he'll be sent to Tatooine, Anakin will become Darth Vader, and the Republic will fall along with his parents.

Luke falls to his knees as he watches the ship holding Ben and Padmé depart. He's left to watch as the ship grows smaller and smaller in the red sky, with Anakin's distant screams to keep him company.

He wipes angry tears off his face, frustrated by the sheer unfairness of it all. There were hundreds of small decisions that Anakin and Ben and even Padmé could have made that would have kept this all from happening. That small spark of light he felt in Anakin comes to mind. He latches onto it, obsessing over it.

If there could be a shred of good left in Anakin in what was seemingly his darkest moment, could that same goodness exist in Vader?

Luke feels himself come back into his own body in a swift, violent manner, like being ripped out of a dream. His ears ring painfully and his head pounds. Adjusting to his very real, very present surroundings is painful.

Moments creep by, and his vision begins to clear. His migraine dissipates just as quickly as if began. He begins to take stock of his body. A scratchy, Imperial issued blanket covers him up to his chin. His arms are resting gently by his sides. His right leg is crossed slightly over his left, his toes poking out from under the blanket.

And there's a hand clasped firmly over his mouth.

He raises his gaze and finds himself looking into steely blue eyes. Above him, smiling cruelly, is Wrinkles.

"It's nice to see you again, Commander Skywalker."