Vader sat, far too quiet and far too still, as the rebels milled about him.
Of course, he had been heavily sedated from the moment they had managed to capture him, but that didn't stop the uneasy tension of the room. He had been locked in this cell for maybe a week, as the Alliance leaders had attempted to figure out what to do with him.
Perhaps surprisingly, the first thing that had been done had been to hand him over to the small, yet substantial, group of researchers devoted to the uncovering of any weakness the hulking monstrosity might have. A large amount had been unearthed. Enough that, had he been anyone else, he would be claimed a victim. Scars crisscrossed his body, along with purposefully terrible life-support, which had been consciously made susceptible to any form of electrical current. He was a mutilated shell of a man, but DNA cross-referencing had told them something even more terrible.
This monster was the father of Luke and Leia; the two most respected, widely known heroes of the Alliance, whom he had been hunting for the better part of a year. Looking back, it made sense why all the bounties had been so high, and had been very specific that both were wanted alive and unharmed. And he was Anakin Skywalker, respected General of the Clone Wars, thought dead and mourned by many. No one had expected the Empire's attack dog to be so full of surprises.
But, despite the incredibly strange circumstances, a course of action was eventually agreed upon.
Vader would be placed in a room with his two children and monitored. The code to his detonator implant (Tattooinian in origin, and clearly marked with a slave serial number) had been discovered, so the twins would be in no danger, even if Vader did managed to shake of the multitude of anti-aggression drugs they had pumped him with. That, and the inhibition dampeners, combined with the remaining family he had should make him say something useful.
The Alliance leadership had gotten the impression that torture wouldn't work on Vader, especially judging by the majority of his injuries, few of which had actually healed to any true extent. The man was a walking medical marvel; by all accounts he should have died many years ago, and be bed-ridden as well.
So, a group of the most devoted officers there was watched on, sat behind crackling monitors as they waited for Vader to stir.
And stir he did.
Luke and Leia sat on a hard, cold floor, pressed against each other. The two were still quite shocked at the revelation that had taken place maybe a week before. But, despite the horrors that Vader had brought, they were glad to have found the truth out about each other. They sat, huddled in against each other for support, soaking up each other's warmth and wordless comfort.
Vader sat, slumped, at the far end of the cell, his armour scorched and tabard tattered. Head leaning forwards, it was clear he was still unconscious. Neither Luke nor Leia particularly wanted for him to come round. They knew, intellectually, that they were safe. But, when faced with the creature (he couldn't be human, surely?) that brought such fear to experienced, war-grizzled veterans; they couldn't help but be scared.
"We need to do this…" Luke eventually said, nudging his sister reassuringly. "He can't hurt us; there's a bomb in him, and he's so full of meds I doubt he could even walk straight." The pitiful attempt at humour fell flat, but Leia still huffed out a stressed laugh.
"That's something I'd like to see; high and mighty his Lordship Darth Vader struggling around like a drunk!" The two chuckled together for a few moments, until a slight shift at the other side of the room choked them into silence.
Vader rocked slightly backwards from where he had been slumping forwards, slowly sitting upright. He groaned minutely and made to stretch, but he overbalanced somehow, and fell straight from the chair and onto his arse, flat on the floor.
Leia couldn't help it; she snorted with laughter once again, and soon Luke joined her, laughing at the surrealistic situation. "Guess my wish was granted," she chuckled once she had regained her breath, then turned to the collapsed hunk of metal, far calmer. "We're going to ask you questions, and you're going to answer them, understood?"
Slowly, his head inclined, between the spinning it went through, mapping out the room. "I… Yes… Leia? Luke? Are you alright?" It was strange, hearing what sounded like genuine concern from that insectoid mask. His speech had been halting as well, completely off-guard.
"You don't get to ask us that, after what you've put us through," She snarled defensively, tugging her brother to her protectively. Then, without waiting for Vader to gather his thoughts; "What is the most important thing the Empire is currently building?"
Vader didn't hesitate, replying immediately. "A second Death Star." Luke blinked at him from across the room, surprised by the willingness to co-operate. Leia had been subjected to similar drugs that they had given Vader, and she had put up a tremendous fight. He severely doubted that Vader couldn't fight them off if he wanted to. So why was he answering? "You look just like…" The masked man breathed into the silence, voice quiet, despite the echoing rasps of his forced breathing. "She would be so proud. Of both of you!"
The twins sat in silence, but only momentarily. Leia forged ahead, beating aside her curiosity, and hoping Luke could do the same. "Where is it being built?"
"Endor, little planet, with these cuddly little bear things." His speech was becoming less and less formal by the minute, a familiar Outer-Rim twang entering into it. "Luke; I was thinkin you would like them… That'd make you hate me less, right? If I didn't kill all of them? 'Cos I didn't. Let the little things live-"
"I wouldn't bloody care, next question!" Luke snarled, eyes suddenly ablaze. He didn't want to hear this. Didn't want to think of this monster as human. That right had been given up years ago.
Leia had the same expression on her face, and Vader simply bowed his head. "Where are the Inquisitorius based?"
He suddenly went ramrod straight, but still, words came out of the mask. "Mustafar." He shuddered as he spoke the name, great shoulders juddering as if under the force of an earthquake.
"Why?"
Stock still, Vader did nothing, only stared at her. "I… can't." Was all he managed to say.
"Why?" Luke, this time, eyes still burning with a righteous anger.
"I can't keep you safe if you hate me!" The words eventually tore from his lips. "I couldn't keep her safe, I couldn't keep Ma safe, I couldn't even keep Kenobi and the 501st safe, and they were trained warriors!" He rocked were he sat, fists clenching and unclenching rhythmically. "Let me help, please."
A grim sense of satisfaction was felt, to bring one so powerful so low. With a vicious smile, Leia spoke; "No. I would never want something like you even near my life!"
Vader sat, frozen for a moment. Then, with practiced movements, he reached up and ripped the life support module from his chest, blood beginning to ooze out. "Maybe Sidious won't be able to stop me this time," He mused, seemingly unconcerned about the damage he had just done. "Nosy old bugger, he is. Not even letting me die peacefully. How awful is that?" He asked no one in particular, leaning back against the wall, idly beginning to examine the countless wires now sticking out from his chest. "Ah! So that's how he made the lightning so damn painful. Too bad this is ancient tech, could've done something pretty cool with the materials he had to work with."
Somehow, sitting with this, calmly suicidal version of Vader was so much worse than the one that had been begging them. The twins felt repulsed, somehow, by this sickly man.
"I'm gonna get out of this suit." He suddenly decided, and began to wiggle about, ripping the pieces of armour off as if they weighed nothing, which Leia knew for certain was not true. "Even Stormtrooper armour would be more comfy. And I'm dying, so, out of this damned thing." Everything that came into his mind, got spurted out of his mouth, and it turned out that Vader could be quite chatty.
Soon enough, but not so much that medics had burst through the door, and Vader was no longer in his suit. He was still covered in what seemed to be a body glove, which didn't even bother to hide the prosthetics, but his face was visible and Luke was… surprised. He could see himself there. They had the same eyes; blue as a clear desert sky. Vader just sat, once he had completed his sporadic mission, and simply looked at his children.
"Leia; stay away from Romulan curry. It used to give your mother really greasy hair and she absolutely hated it. Luke; don't try to find a Krayt dragon. Or steal its eggs. And if you do, take some Tusken piss. The big beasts don't like the smell. Leia; if you ever need parts or something there's this brilliant shop on Coruscant… Imperial Centre now, right? What sort of name is that, anyway? And it sells everything used to go there a lot, just tell him he's a pile of steaming Bantha shit and he'll give you whatever you want for free. Luke; if you ever get captured by a guy called Firmius Piett, he's a big softy and really loyal. Just tell him that…" And he went on, giving random and completely, utterly strange advice. Everything from escaping the jaws of a Zillo beast to cooking this supposedly amazing soup his mother used to make which could cure all ailments.
Eventually, he died off and stilled. At that point, the Alliance medics barged in, just in time to save his life, shoving a respirator over his face, ignoring the weak protests, which became far stronger the moment they tried to remove him from the twins, which ended in yet more sedatives.
Months later, and the Skywalker family stood, triumphant, above the mutilated body of Sidious. They had gone through many trials and come out on top.
It had taken many, many sessions of Vader's rambling until they had, finally, allowed him to see his children without being drugged to his eyeballs. And that had resulted in the two receiving a smothering hug, in arms easily strong enough to crush them into dust. It was the gentleness with which their father acted around them at that moment, which allowed them to see the truth.
But, the end of Sidious was only the beginning. They still struggled. Vader with his identity, multiple mental health issues (PTSD, depression, etc.) and, even years later, his children would find him unconscious, life-saving machinery ripped from him. Luke, who had been subjected to a lengthy lightening last from Sidious, had lasting damage. He could no longer walk unaided. And Leia? She lost her legs to the Emperor defending her family when they were down, nearly giving her life to do so.
They had come out on top. That was all that mattered.
AN: Hope you enjoyed! This is just a quick one-shot so yeah.
If you want to be more up-to-date with my stuff, I'd reccomend following me on AO3, on which I am much more active. This, for example, is about a week late being updated. Plus, all my Vader drabbles are being stuck in one place over there, in case you want to read more...?
Now, off to find another fic for you, I guess. Happy hunting!
~Omsie