So... it's been a while. You may want to at least read the last chapter as a refresher. Thanks for your patience everybody! Enjoy! :)

He'd said 'daughter'. But I'd never had a daughter. Padme had died; the funeral had been public. My baby had died with her.

I never had a daughter.

But the desperation in his eyes had not been fake; that I knew. He had cried out at me, sounding almost close to terrified, the closest I'd ever heard him. And the look in his eyes when Alderaan had ceased to exist...

Haunting.

It had even given me chills. He had been an open book in that moment, so transparent that I hadn't had to even think about what I was seeing on him. And then he'd closed himself off again. Sabaac face, unreadable.

But he clearly believed that I had just murdered my own daughter, which was impossible since I didn't have a daughter...

Obi-wan was not one to run after rumors. He had never been easily fooled or taken advantage of. Had he gone delirious in his old age? Maybe his injuries had taken their toll on his mind; it had been known to happen to other men. I would have to speak to him soon, set him straight.

I never had a daughter. It wasn't possible, shouldn't even have come out of his mouth, and yet I had felt something snap, a connection that might have been...

"Lord Vader?"

I turned, barely holding back the growl that had risen in my throat. I was so confused right now... "What is it, Tarkin?"

"I had a brief chat with the prisoner. I strongly suggest that he be kept on Force-inhibitors for the duration of his stay."

This man was a kriffing idiot. Granted, he was the most intelligent idiot to ever be promoted to such a position of authority, but an idiot nonetheless. The man had absolutely no common sense. "I thought I made it clear that I would not have my most trusted men disobeying direct orders. You are to be an example to the others, Tarkin, not the one going behind my back." I took a small bit of pleasure in the slight twitching of his jaw, but that was all he allowed. He could be an impressive idiot when he wanted to be.

"My apologies, sir. I was under the impression that you wanted me to continue my evaluation process of any prisoners that come in."

Intelligent as well as clever. I cursed myself for not blatantly telling him to leave Kenobi alone. He was a sneaky gundark, this one. "I suppose my announcement at his arrival did not suffice? I seem to remember ordering everyone on base to leave the man to me and me alone. He is not to be trifled with."

The fool had the audacity to cock a brow at this. "Is he dangerous, my lord?"

I took a few casual steps towards him, somewhat pleased at the fact that he didn't retreat. An idiot he may be, but he was well-suited for his position. "You are not to speak with him or enter the cell block again as long as he is here; do I make myself clear?"

The slight narrowing of the man's eyes was all that indicated his irritation. "Yes, Lord Vader."

I nodded. "Good." There was no need to expound on what would happen should he repeat his mistake. I had a reputation, after all. I turned and stared out the viewport, stunned for a brief moment by the enormity of space. It never ceased to amaze me.

And Force, the stars were beautiful...

"As to your last question," I continued, "yes, Kenobi is dangerous. You were acquainted with him before, though, so I'm surprised you asked. Tell me... what is it that you talked about?"

He hesitated. Not long, but enough for me to realize that I would need to start watching him more closely from now on. "Words, sir. We talked about the power of words."

I sensed no deception, fortunately for him. His answer actually made me smile slightly. My old master probably thoroughly enjoyed that conversation. "Interesting topic, though not surprising considering who you were speaking with. Did you learn anything?"

I felt him smirk. "Nothing I didn't already know, sir."

I sighed, growing impatient. I needed to speak with the Jedi as soon as possible, though I really didn't know why. I just felt like I needed to, if only to let him know that anything short of his cooperation would end in another planet's disappearance. Tarkin was wasting my time. "Not about the Jedi. About the rebels. Did you learn anything of our enemy's tactics?"

"Nothing, sir," he stated. He was radiating disappointment.

I turned to face him once more and raised a brow at him. "About this suggestion of yours... what makes you think he needs inhibitors? Those cells are specially built to hold Force-sensitive individuals. He will not be escaping, and if he did, well... I assure you he would not get far."

He looked away for the first time and actually seemed a little embarrassed. "He assaulted me, sir," he fairly mumbled.

"Assaulted you?" Now it was getting interesting. What did my former master do now? He never had been the most cooperative of prisoners... "How?"

"With my gun, sir."

Not the man's finest moment. "He assaulted you with your own gun while behind bars? Forgive me for having to ask, but what makes you think that it was a smart idea to bring a gun to an interrogation with a powerful Jedi master who was not shot with inhibitors?"

This left the poor idiot stuttering about self-defense and not thinking that Kenobi could be provoked so easily - clearly he didn't know the man as well as he thought he did (or maybe he knew him too well...)- and I gave him a dismissive wave. "Go check on the construction going on over in sector five. Being far away from the detention center might help with your itch to provoke unprovokable prisoners."

He muttered an affirmative and turned to go.

"And Tarkin?"

He stopped.

"Don't undermine me again. I'm beginning to think you're holding to some false illusion of control. It would be best if you stop."

"I hold no illusions, sir. I exist only to serve you."

"Pretty words from a clever man," I retorted. I've had too much practice with wordplay to fall for such drivel. "The last man who tried to control me ended up as a puddle at my feet. Don't look to Sidious as an example."

He began to turn around. "Sir, I -"

"You are dismissed."

He left.

And once again, I was left alone with only the stars to comfort me. Unfortunately, they only served to remind me of the planet I had just blown into billions of smithereens... and of a daughter that might have been killed in the process.

But that was impossible.

The Force was silent as I pondered what had happened only hours earlier. Not for the first time, I cursed the darkness I was steeped in and left the room in Tarkin's wake. The dark side was useful for a good many things, but sometimes I felt as though I was floundering around blind. I headed in the opposite direction, towards the detention center.

Towards the only man who held any answers I cared about. Towards the light that continued to burn despite my every effort to snuff it out.

At the end of the day, or week, or month, or however long it took to get every possible use out of him, he would die. I didn't care if the light died with him or not.

Tarkin was holding on to his pathetic illusions, but this other man, this shadow from my haunted past... he harbored no illusions. He knew exactly what he was doing to me and I was letting him do it.

No more. It was time to get answers and kill him.

I reached the cell block and didn't hesitate to enter. I stopped at his cell, the sound of my boots continuing to echo down the long corridor, and waited for him to look up.

It didn't take him long.

Only then did I realize that I harbored some illusions of my own. I couldn't kill him. Something was still holding me back

~~OOO~~

Obi-wan just stared at Anakin, wondering why he was here. He figured that it wouldn't have been too long after he'd threatened to kill Tarkin that Anakin would show up, but staring into his old friend's eyes made him reconsider the reasoning behind his appearance. This visit had very little to do with Tarkin.

The pain from watching and feeling Alderaan die was still fresh and all he could do was continue to look at Anakin. He felt his own anger boiling beneath the surface, but he held it in check. The Dark would not win, not when he had clearly felt the Light rush to his aid right before Anakin had decimated a planet. No. He would be angry; he could no longer deny what he was feeling, but he would not let it control him.

Obi-wan still didn't trust himself to speak, though. The only words that would come out of his mouth would be biting and sarcastic and full of too much venom to cause anything but an argument to spring up.

So he sat still. And he stared. And he waited.

And he wondered.

He couldn't help but sit up a little straighter, look a little closer. Something had just shattered in the Sith; he had known this man for far too long to miss it.

So he took a deep breath and chose to trust himself to not say anything rash.

"Her name was Leia." He bit the words out, unable to prevent the slight edge to his voice.

A few hours ago, that would have been a very rash thing to say... but Anakin's daughter was dead, so it didn't matter anymore.

~~OOO~~

Leia.

I didn't have a daughter, but he gave me a name. Where did he pull this name out of? I'll have to look into the name later, maybe check Alderaan's last census. She would have been close to twenty years old...

No. I didn't have a daughter.

But... Leia. The name fit. It was a name my beautiful angel would have chosen for our daughter. One she had even mentioned early on in her pregnancy, spoken with a soft smile, gentle eyes silently asking me if I had agreed... Force, I missed her...

Leia...peace. It had meant peace in a language she had briefly mentioned to me when she brought the name up. It brought a small measure of peace just to hear the name now, even if it was spoken in a slightly angry tone by a man I desperately wanted to be rid of.

"Leia." I couldn't help but whisper it, and it made me smile a little. But then I remembered where I was and who I was talking to.

He looked a little shocked, but I didn't care. This had to be a trick, or coincidence, or something! Had I known... I would never have killed my own daughter. Padme's daughter. Our daughter. "How did you get that name?" I growled.

I was surprised to discover slight waves of anger in the Force that were not my own, but his. Most people had learned to cower when I got angry, but I had learned long ago to cower when he got angry, and I almost started to. Those days were behind me, though.

No more. He was a prisoner, and I was the most powerful being in the galaxy. He would answer me and he would answer me respectfully.

"How do you think, Anakin?"

The venomous bite in the words stung in more ways than one. I didn't like what he was implying one bit, that he had been there for my angel when she had died. That he had been there at the birth of my daughter. That I hadn't.

I reached forward and grabbed the bars, squeezing until they started to dent. It took a couple seconds for me to see two similar dents right above my own. I caught his eye again and found that he had been staring at the dents as well. "You had no right to be there..."

He finally stood up and leaned back against the wall. The crossing of his arms let loose a screeching whine that made both of us flinch, though him not so much. He must have gotten somewhat used to it.

"Who else was there to try and help her? You? Tell me, Anakin... where were you when the one person you loved most lay dying and in pain, not caring in the least that she herself might die, but that the two infants inside of her were struggling just to breathe. You were gone, Anakin! She was alone; someone had to be there for her!"

"I searched for her!" I snarled. And I had. After I had left him groaning in the ash, one arm permanently separated from his body, I had returned to where his ship had landed. But it hadn't been there. "You took her from me..."

"I protected her..."

"I would never, NEVER, have killed her! You know that! If I had been there, she would still be alive right now, I would still have my daughter, and everything would be different!" I clenched the bars again, intending to bend them myself and strangle the man with my own two hands. "Her death was your fault!"

Apparently he decided to make it easy for me, though. The fool pushed himself off the wall and came at me in two quick strides, getting right in my face. His eyes bore into my own. For the first time in a long, long time, I was facing a man who wasn't afraid of me.

I smiled, eagerly accepting the challenge and gladly accepting an opportunity that had escaped my reach for far too long. He wanted a fight, and I was more than willing.

But it would have to wait, because instead of trying to get at me like I predicted, he simply stood there. He was clearly still angry; there was no doubting that, but there was pain now, too. "She died believing there was still good in you," he said quietly. "She told me herself, right before she passed. I believed her."

I froze for a moment, struck speechless by what I was hearing. Hope was something I had long since let go of, but it seemed to be coming back into reach.

No. It had to be a trick. Obi-wan had always been a smooth talker, just like Tarkin. The two were two snow peas in a pod. One was just a little more rotten at the core than the other. "You're lying," I sneered. "She brought you with her to kill me."

The second the words left my mouth, I knew that of the two of us, he wasn't the one lying. Padme never would have done such a thing.

When his hand latched on to my wrist, I felt ice crawl up my arm. The metal was cold and unforgivingly firm. I found myself unable to pull away. "She loved you up until her dying breath, Anakin. You may doubt my love for you, but don't you dare doubt hers." He let me go and stepped back. "There was nothing but compassion in her from the start. And in the end you strangled her and left her to die."

I reached through the bars attempting to grab him, but he was just out of my reach. "Her death was not my fault, you kriffin' sleemo!"

He only stared back, silently assessing. After I ceased trying to get to him, he finally spoke again. "I failed you, my friend. There is no denying that. You've made it abundantly clear, but you will get no pity from me. You judged me by my actions, as you should. I never was very good at showing what I felt... you, however, never made an attempt at holding anything back." He paused, and his eyes took on that haunted look again. "You killed her, Anakin. You slaughtered younglings, you've hunted down the few Jedi that survived, you just murdered your own daughter along with millions of others, and you stand here now trying to accuse me of your own terrible mistakes."

No. He had it all wrong. He always had it wrong...

"You've made yourself what you are today, Anakin," he muttered, no longer looking so angry. Instead, he looked lost and bone-weary. Exhausted. "You needed to hear it, even if I never wanted to be the one to tell you."

I absorbed his words involuntarily, hating the way they ate at my insides. My gut churned uncomfortably.

The Jedi had all been liars. They had all deserved to die. The galaxy had been an unparalleled disaster before the Dark had come to power. Now there was order, there was peace (mostly), and there was control. There was no one telling me how I should or shouldn't feel, no one to ridicule me or tell me in a condescending manner how I needed to change.

Life was so much simpler.

It's all a lie, brother.

There was that bond again. Still shriveled, still shredded, and still barely a thread in my mind where there had once been an immovable cord. Yet he was still able to use it somehow, and his soft words echoed through my head.

I glared at him through the bars. All it would take was one solid yank. I built them to hold Force-users up to a point. No one could channel the Force like I could, and he knew that. I could tell by the suddenly wary stance he'd taken up.

"We were never brothers," I snapped. I pushed my hand forward, not even bothering with the bars. I never needed them out of my way, even though physically beating him to a pulp would have been so much more satisfying. But this would do.

He grunted when the invisible energy slammed into him, shoving him straight back into the hard wall behind him. Cracks snaked out from behind him at the impact. His breath came out in wheezes as he fell to his knees.

Surprisingly, he made no move to get up or to even raise a hand in retaliation. He just took it without comment.

But his kriffin' eyes said enough. They always spoke the words he was never strong enough to say, and I hated the way he was looking at me now. I flicked my wrist one last time, snapping his head back just hard enough to knock him out. I watched his eyes roll back and his head flop forward before pivoting on my feet and slamming my prosthetic fist into the wall behind me. A chunk of duracrete sailed off down the hall.

I glanced back at him one last time before leaving. I was more comfortable in the shadows and out of the revealing light. The truth in his words bothered me, yet I couldn't justify blaming him anymore.

I left blaming only myself and facing the hard reality that I couldn't go back and just change it all.

I couldn't bring my angel back.

I couldn't bring my daughter back... this hurt even more, though I didn't know why. I hadn't even known her...

I stopped, focusing on the weak bond that he had somehow accessed. It shouldn't even be there; had it not been so strong back in the day it would have long disappeared by now.

He came after me. Over the years he had proven that he was more than capable of eluding me for as long as he so desired, but a couple weeks back told me a different story. His engaging me in a space battle was no act of sacrifice. The kid I had been toying with had been a rebel, had been one of his allies, and he'd shot him at point blank range, effectively crippling him and drawing me away in the process.

He'd come after me. He'd never had a desire to elude me forever.

There had only ever been three people I had considered family. My mom was gone, Padme was gone... he was not.

Having him close could be the only cause of the turmoil in the Force. He had to be. I had never felt so confused, so conflicted before. I had captured him hoping to gain valuable intel on the rebels, but what he was giving me instead was a trip back to the past I had tried so hard to forget.

I started walking again, cursing the man over and over again with the most vile Huttese curses I could think of.

And then I stopped again, recalling something he'd said. He had mentioned two infants... two...

Leia... and another?

I had two children? Was the other one still alive?

A face flashed through my head and stuck there. Blue eyes, blond hair sticking out from beneath the orange helmet, a presence that had felt far too familiar at the time... the one he had crippled.

The fool had never wanted that boy to follow us.

I had a son.

"The most common lie is that which one lies to himself; lying to others is relatively an exception." ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

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