Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“This feels like a vacation.” 

Leia snorted. “It’s still a planet occupied by Imperials.” 

“Vacationing Imperials.” Luke pointed out. It was hard to think of anything on Spira being dangerous. The weather was temperate, with palm trees swaying in the wind and clear blue skies. The sand was fine, so fine that it hardly clung to his skin, the color an almost blinding white. To the east, farther inland, the buildings were hidden by jungle that stretched up the mountain side as far as the eye could see. 

It was definitely different from Tatooine, down to the heat--humid, not dry. If he had to guess, it was probably the abundance of water that made up much of the planet. 

“There’s a legitimate garrison.” Leia said. She was leading him towards the beach, making their way through a tourist market full of stalls of food, ocean-themed jewelry, and ocean-wear. Most of it was meant to be moved, while a few buildings were built to stay--those were mostly restaurants, scuba businesses, and island tour companies. 

It was definitely not helping him feel like they were on a legitimate mission for the Alliance. 

“Look. We literally just picked up... you know.” Leia turned, walking backwards as she spoke, pumping her brows up and down to hint at the crates of weapons they’d picked up from, of all places, a tourist shake shack a little over an hour before. “Han’s picking more up on the mountain--” 

“We should have gone with him.” 

“That particular buyer only sells to people he knows. That’s Han, not us.” She turned back around just in time to jump over a curb. Her reflexes were so good, Luke often wondered if she’d make a better Jedi than him. “So, since he’s busy, we’re going to be busy teaching you to swim.” 

Luke made a face. This was the real reason he was arguing. As much as seeing large bodies of water fascinated him, actually getting in it was something he didn’t particularly love. The idea of relying on just his small body to keep him afloat, hoping that he didn’t get tired or sink to the bottom...plus there was the idea that he wasn’t alone in the water that freaked him out. Sure he could use the Force to help warn him of anything that might want to eat him, but he was still so new to the whole Force-thing, he wasn’t exactly thrilled to test it in something he wasn’t comfortable in. 

“You already taught me.” He tried. 

“I taught you in a river and a lake. Now I’m teaching you in the Ocean.” 

“Water is water. Same thing.” 

“No, water behaves differently.” Leia sounded like she was rolling her eyes at him. “Look. This is a populated beach. There are life guards around if for some reason I don’t have your back, which I do. If something were to happen in another mission and you had to swim for an extended period of time, I want to feel like you have a chance.” 

“Maybe I’ll just request to not go on missions with water--” 

“Luke!” 

He sighed. Getting out of it wasn’t an option. 

By this point, they’d stepped onto the actual beach. Just as she’d promised, there were plenty of tourists about. A few meters away was a lifeguard outpost, the wood bright red. The guard on duty wore black trunks with an Imperial logo, and Luke suppressed a shudder. 

“You don’t think anyone will recognize us, do you?” He asked as Leia found an ideal spot to set their stuff down. 

“People don’t come here looking for trouble. They’re here to relax.” After she set her stuff down, she began stripping off her clothes, revealing that she’d been well prepared by wearing a teal floral bathing suit under her clothes. Luke scowled, certain now that she’d volunteered them for this mission for the sole purpose of making him learn to swim in a stupid ocean. “Obviously don’t go telling everyone who we’re with, though. Or your name.” 

Luke didn’t need the name reminder. The Empire had just figured out that it was him who’d blown the Death Star up and he had a serious bounty on his head. He wasn’t about to be giving that out anytime soon to anyone who asked. 

“Well...I don’t have swim trunks.” 

Leia grinned, reached down into the bag she’d dropped, and pulled out a pair of blue shorts, tossing them at him. “Good thing I came prepared.” 

He was half tempted to protest by swimming in the clothes he had on, but that would just leave him wet and miserable later. So, grumbling under his breath, he went to a nearby changing booth to submit to his fate. 

Leia was already letting the waves hit her feet when he returned. For a moment, he stood back, marveling at how relaxed she looked. She’d constantly been working to find the Rebellion a new base since they’d had to evacuate Yavin IV, and it was rare to see her look so carefree, like all of her burdens had temporarily lifted off her shoulders. Her face even appeared younger, and she looked less like Princess Leia, leader in the Rebellion and more like Princess Leia, nineteen year old girl. 

Maybe this wasn’t just for his sake. Maybe it was a mini-break. Not a vacation. Just a few hour break. 

If anyone deserved that, it was Leia. He could suck up his dislike for swimming and learn. Maybe he’d even try to learn to like it. 

“Let’s get this done with.” He said, breaking her from her reverie. She turned, blinking at him in the afternoon sunlight, and smiled, holding her hand out to him. 

He took it, and she led him into the water. 

The water was weirdly warm--cool enough to be refreshing, but not so cold that he was shivering. In between waves, the water was so clear he could look down and watch his toes wiggle. It was odd to feel the push and pull of the water against his body, and Leia explained ocean currents and how tides worked. She explained what to do if stuck in what she called a “Rip Tide,” and how to duck under the wave if it was too big. As much as he hadn’t initially wanted to get into the water, he had to admit it was actually kind of nice. Fun, even, especially when he learned to “body surf” the waves back to shore. 

“Did you have an ocean on Alderaan?” Luke asked as they stood in waist-deep water. He was marveling at how clear the water was--the lakes and rivers he’d been taken to had been pretty murky. 

“One, but it was frozen. We had lots of lakes and rivers, but I’ve only been to an ocean once while on a trip.” Leia replied. Her voice was casual, but he felt her pain through the Force. 

He decided that was the wrong thing to ask questions about, and continued marveling, when his eye caught a glittering item near his foot. Curious, he took a deep breath and ducked under, reaching his hand for it--

He never touched it. 

The sand started to shift, slowly at first, then violently. The object was knocked away, and above he heard Leia’s muffled shout of alarm, then felt her confusion and fear in the Force. Forgetting about the object, he surfaced, attempting to find his feet on the sandy ground below. He only sort of managed it--the ground shook so hard it felt like the sand had turned to jello. 

“Are we under attack?!” He shouted, frantically looking for the source of whatever was happening. On shore, people were screaming. The lifeguard outpost was swaying so hard, Luke was certain it was going to topple. Above, whole flocks of birds were frantically flying back and forth, as if they too were looking for somewhere safe to land. 

“Earthquake!” Leia shouted, and he felt her hand on his upper arm--whether to steady herself or pull him to safety, he didn’t know. It didn’t matter, though, because at that moment a wave crashed into them from behind, sending them both face-first into the water. 

Moments later, they both broke the surface. The ground was still shaking--no, almost rolling. Luke coughed out salt water, suddenly hating the taste of it, and after glancing over to make sure Leia was alright, they began to make their way back to shore. 

It was slower than he’d have liked--at least, it felt like it. Anytime they tried to stand, the shaking ground made it nearly impossible to keep their feet and they splashed back into the water. As they stumbled, short, small waves hit their legs quickly and erratically, making it difficult. A few times they crashed to their knees. Oddly enough, the water seemed to recede some, because they were ankle-deep far sooner than it had taken to get in. 

Finally, the shaking stopped--at least, Luke thought it might have, because his body was still shaking, adrenaline coursing through him--but one look at the shore and he could tell people were able to stand without difficulty. 

Leia’s hand was gripped on his upper arm and she was breathing hard, her eyes wide as she took in the situation. At this point, they were standing in wet sand. Around them were rocks he didn’t remember seeing when they got in. Ahead, the lifeguard post had topped sideways into the sand, seemingly forgotten as two Imperial lifeguards appeared to be trying to calm the panicked beach goers. 

“We definitely didn’t have that on Tatooine.” He breathed, “Does this normally happen when you go to the beach?” 

“I--I don’t think so.” Leia admitted, her grip on his arm tightening. He was grateful for it--the longer she touched him, the more he was able to calm his frazzled nerves. “I think we’re done swimming for the day.” 

“Yeah, and maybe we should avoid missions to ocean worlds.” He tried to smile, tried to sound like he was joking--but he was mostly serious. As relaxing as it had been before the quake, after experiencing the shaking and the waves hitting him, he was very much done with oceans for the foreseeable future. 

Leia took his hand, and pulled him back towards their stuff. 

They were further from it than he thought they should have been. “Sometimes the ocean current pulls you away from your stuff. It happens.” Leia explained when he voiced his concern. She sounded distracted, though, and she kept looking around like she was looking for something. 

She wasn’t the only one. There were multiple people who appeared to be frantically comming someone--probably loved ones or friends to let them know they were okay. The lifeguards appeared to now be assisting people out of the water. 

As Luke slipped on his white sleeveless undershirt, his gaze caught the fallen lifeguard outpost again. “There’s probably damage in town.” 

“Probably.” Leia sounded distracted, almost like she was on edge as she pulled a shirt over her swimsuit. 

“I think we should see if anyone needs help.” 

“How did I know you were going to say that?” 

“Because I’m the guy who staged an impossible rescue mission on the Death Star on a whim.” He managed a shaky smile as their eyes met, but she didn’t return it. This time, he didn’t think it was because she was remembering dark memories. “What’s wrong?” He finally asked. 

Leia paused and sighed. “I’m not sure. Something just...doesn’t feel right.” 

Luke had stooped down to grab his clothes, but he paused. “What do you mean?” 

“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “But I do know earthquakes have aftershocks. We should be careful…” She hesitated again, looking around at the chaos around them. “We should wait to get dressed when we get back to the Falcon.” 

He didn’t love the idea of walking around in a swimsuit, but he trusted Leia’s judgement. “Alright.” He said, picking up the rest of their things. “Lead the way.” 

As she led him back towards town, Luke glanced back. The water still seemed like it was further away than before, and he could see rocks he didn’t remember seeing before sticking up out of the sand. A bad feeling came over him with a shudder, and he hurried to catch up with Leia. 

What had once been a scenic area for tourists, the street they had walked down earlier had been reduced to shambles. Some carts had simply been toppled over, their wares strewn into the street, while others were completely smashed. A sign from one of the scuba companies had fallen off and splintered on the ground. But as far as Luke could tell, no one looked to be too seriously injured. 

“It’s so weird.” Luke said as they walked, “This place looked like a paradise. Now it looks like paradise in bad need of repair. Who knew something so wild could happen?” 

“Even after all of our advances, we can’t control geological events.” Leia muttered. She still sounded like she was distracted. “Most planets have a prediction service running so they can warn their people, but on a world meant for vacations like this?” She shrugged. “Maybe they had it and we didn’t know about it since we were on the beach. Maybe they don’t. Who knows?” 

Luke opened his mouth to say something--he didn’t know what, because a split second later he was distracted by the Force suddenly wailing danger at him. Both he and Leia tensed at the same time, then just as their eyes met, the sound of people shrieking reached them, coming from the direction of the beach. 

“What--?” He began, but Leia grabbed hold of his hand in a vise grip, his fingers immediately going numb from the strength of it, and she was pulling him into a run the opposite direction of the screams. 

“Run!” She shouted, but the screaming and an odd hissing noise growing steadily louder made it hard for him to concentrate. But he ran with her, confused as hell, but the danger in the Force was growing and growing, clear and impossible to ignore. 

Around him, others had begun screaming. Others had begun running. Lovers grabbed one another, while mothers hoisted shrieking children in their arms. Some on speeder bikes whooshed by, almost knocking he and Leia over in the process. 

“Get to high ground!” Someone was screaming--no, multiple people were screaming. “Get to high ground!” 

High ground? Luke looked ahead of them--the nearest high ground looked so far away. High ground was where Han was, completing their mission. High ground was where the space port was, where the Falcon was. 

“Leia!” He gasped. She hadn’t let go of his hand. His fingers were turning purple. “What’s happening?!” 

His answer came in the form of a terrible rumble that shook the earth. He thought for a moment that it was the after shock Leia had spoken about, but then he heard the sound of splintering wood and when he looked back…

A never ending wall was coming at them as fast as a speeder. 

No. Not a wall. Or...rather, not a wall made of what he’d expect. 

It was a wall of water. 

And it was swallowing up buildings and people as though they posed no obstacle whatsoever. 

“Don’t let go of my hand!” Leia was screaming. She had to, the noise was getting too loud. Desperately, Luke looked for a building tall enough to shelter them, but it was a damn tourist shopping district and that wave was so tall-- “ Don’t you dare let go!” 

“I won’t!” He was running so fast, but it felt slow. Painfully slow. He could hear, feel that wave coming from them. Worse, the Force didn’t just warn him of the danger: through it, he could feel people within that wave, tumbling and confused, desperate and dying-- “Leia I don’t know how--!” 

“Don’t let go!” 

It was the last thing he heard from her. He would never forget the sheer terror in her voice--the tears that shook it even as she ordered him to not let her go. 

If Leia was scared, if Leia, who rarely cried even when she should was crying--

They were doomed. 

It was with that sinking feeling in his gut that the force of the wave smashed into them, and suddenly they were tumbling wildly, water and debris tearing at them. 

Luke didn’t even know when he had let Leia go. He didn’t realize he had. All he knew was chaos and water, and nothing more. 

The current was strong, far stronger than anything Leia had ever felt. 

She’d learned to swim at a young age. Her parents had made it a point to make sure she knew how, not only for her own safety, but for her own enjoyment. And she enjoyed it--some of the most relaxing moments of her life had been on lake beaches on Alderaan. 

This was a far cry from that. 

She tumbled head over heels. Debris slammed into her, cutting and tearing at her clothes and skin, pulling at her hair. She didn’t know up from down, and it was a struggle to ignore the blinding terror that shook her body so that she could try to swim, try to kick and pull herself to the surface so she could get a breath. 

Just one breath, she thought over and over, her lungs screaming at her, just one breath! 

It felt like eternity. It was eternity, as far as she was concerned. She didn’t know if she was swimming up or down, but just when her lungs felt like they were about to burst, her head broke the surface. Oddly cool air hit her, and she gulped it in, immediately coughing violently as she also took in sea water. 

She did not stop trying to swim against the current. It felt as if the very ocean were trying to suck her back down to claim her as its own. 

She was not going to die. She and Luke were going to--

Luke. 

Her hands were empty. Luke was gone. 

She’d let him go. 

“LUKE!” She attempted to shriek, but she’d barely gotten the word out when the water seemed to use that as its opportunity to try to suck her back under. Her head submerged, and she violently brought herself back to the surface, sucking in more air. 

She couldn’t think about him yet. She couldn’t save him yet, not when she was in danger of dying herself. 

Completely at the mercy of the water, she desperately searched for something, anything, to hang onto. There was plenty of splintered wood, but nothing that would hold her weight. She could only see the tops of buildings, buildings that were shaking in such a way that they wouldn’t last. 

But... there. 

Palm trees, coming up ahead of her fast. 

She immediately started attempting to swim for them, even as the current threatened to rip her out of their path. 

This is not how I will die, she thought over and over again as she swam, coughing and sputtering salt water that had gone brown with the debris still cutting into her body. When she moved her arms, she thought she saw something red. This is not how I die! 

But even as she thought it, it was becoming clear that she was going to miss the trees--

No! 

A wave of determination rushed over her--no, it was desperation. It was different than the determination to keep the Rebellion alive despite the Empire’s best efforts. It was a pure desire to live, no matter the costs. 

Even as she started slipping past the trees, something seemed to pull her hard against the current, and before she could stop to wonder at the impossibility, her arm caught hold of the tree and she was using all of her strength to pull herself into the center of them, using one to brace her back against as the current roared into them. 

But she didn’t stop there. She managed to push herself further up one of the trees, as much as she could out of the water. She felt far heavier than normal, likely because the water was still trying to suck her down into its murky depths, but with a scream that tore from her throat, she managed, then wrapped her arms and legs around the trunk. 

Her entire body was shaking. Even now, she wasn’t sure how long she could hold on, but she knew she needed to.

Even as she opened her eyes, seeing the once beautiful seaside town almost completely submerged, her thoughts turned to the person who she cared for deeply, the person she’d let go of despite ordering him not to. 

Luke. Where was Luke? 

In any normal circumstance, she’d search for him. If this was the heat of battle and Darth Vader himself was bearing down upon her, she’d search for him. 

But this? 

If she let go, they were both dead. 

There was nothing else she could do but start screaming Luke’s name, over and over again, the roar of the water drowning her out. 

This was how he died. 

Everyone thought about their death at various points in their life. When he was on Tatooine, he was half-sure he’d die of boredom, if not from the Hutts or an accident in the desert. Since joining the Rebellion, he figured it would be in an X-wing during the heat of a dog fight. 

He’d never imagined he’d die by drowning. 

Terror clawed at his throat as he tumbled round and round in the depths of the wave. Filthy salt water shot up his nose, making him want to cough, but doing so would cause him to release his last breath. It was already a struggle to hold it--his lungs burned and screeched at him for air, fresh air, and the blender of debris hitting him almost forcefully knocked the air from him. 

But he didn’t stop trying to hold it. He knew it was fruitless--his swimming skills were on the beginners side, he didn’t know which way was even up, he could barely think straight, so he might as well give it up now. But he couldn’t make himself give in, even as not letting the air out was becoming literal agony. 

His limbs twisted desperately. He couldn’t remember how to swim--he could barely remember anything. All that mattered was he get air, it was his only clear thought--

His lungs couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t remember consciously allowing it to happen--he probably didn’t--but his mouth opened, his remaining breath leaving him in a whoosh, then a split second later he was sucking in air--

Not air. 

Water. 

It dragged into his mouth, then his windpipe, and as his body spasmed and thrashed, his vision was going black but not fast enough--

Not like this! Was the thought his own or someone else's? He could no longer tell. Help! 

There would be no help. The rest of the world was sucked into this nightmare, too. People were fighting for their own lives, not saving others. He was dead, this was how he died--

He wasn’t sure how it happened. His oxygen-deprived brain actually told him that he’d somehow gotten a burst of energy and shot to the surface. But when he opened his eyes, he was facing sideways, vomiting and coughing violently into the surface of the water. Someone was pounding on his back. 

“Come on, kid.” Someone with a Core accent was saying--no, demanding. “Breathe!” 

He couldn’t stop, but between coughing and vomiting, he managed to suck in small, burning, agonizing breaths. 

“Where--what--?” He wheezed, trying to orient himself. He was still surrounded by water and was still moving fast over it, but not as quickly as before. In fact, from up here, it looked so much calmer than what he’d experienced beneath the surface. 

“I managed to pull you up. Did CPR. Now you’re breathing.” 

The coughing didn’t show signs of slowing down, but the vomiting seemed to calm, though his body still spasmed as though it wanted to continue. Maybe he just didn’t have the energy anymore. 

He attempted to roll onto his back to see who had rescued him, but a firm hand stopped him. “No, you gotta cough it all out, kid.” 

Kid. No, his name was Luke--Han--

He groaned and instead chose to slowly bring himself into a sitting position. His ribs screamed in protest, but he needed to get his bearings. 

He was on top of a floating speeder. It was partly submerged, but it managed to hold both him and--

An Imperial officer. 

Instinctively, Luke ducked his face away, using his coughing as an excuse. Would the officer recognize him and turn him in when this was over? He’d be better off drowning…

“I’m just glad I was able to save someone.” The man said bitterly. “I tried saving a young woman but I couldn’t get her to breathe.” 

Luke closed his eyes. The longer he remained conscious, the longer he realized they weren’t really alone. Beyond the rushing sound of water, there were screams. Terrible, terrible screams for help. More than that, the Force seemed to remind him that there were people still struggling for life around him, some on the very edge of it. He could feel nothing but terror, both his own and that of the people around him--

And the guilt of the Imperial Officer who’d saved him. 

“Thank you.” His voice didn’t sound like his own. His throat, his lungs were raw and burning. He wasn’t even sure the officer heard him. 

But the man said, “My job is to protect people. It was the least I could do.” 

He didn’t know too many officers who genuinely seemed to want to protect the citizens of the galaxy. Most seemed like they wanted the power that the Imperial military could provide. The man’s sentiment managed to calm Luke somewhat, enough that he glanced up to smile at the man…

And saw another wall of black hurtling towards them.

Chapter Text

It was supposed to be an ordinary day of business. In fact, Han had expected this to be the easiest mission they’d ever done for the Alliance. They just picked up the first set of weapons, and he completed the job by picking up the second set. No big deal. The most trouble he expected was to maybe have his old smuggler pal try to con him (which he did, but Han was prepared for that and handled it just fine). 

He did not expect to turn around to find the beach town below him completely flooded. 

His first clue that something was wrong was the distant sound of screams, followed by what sounded like a bunch of popping and roaring. “What the hell is that?” He grumbled, reluctantly turning from where Orrell and his men were loading the Falcon up with the last of the weapons. He may have done a few smuggling jobs with Orrell in the past, but he didn’t trust him enough to turn his back on him while completing a job. But a noise like that sounded bad, whatever it was, and when he couldn’t immediately see what was wrong, he ran into the Falcon to grab his macrobinoculars. At this point, Orrell and his men had stopped, also intrigued by the noise, so when Han emerged with the binoculars, many of them began to crowd him as he lifted them up to take a closer look. 

He felt his heart drop into his stomach, even as he struggled to understand what it was he was seeing. 

“Holy shit…” he breathed. 

A massive wave looked to be swallowing the entire valley. From this distance, he couldn’t see anyone, but he could see the water’s currents tearing through the foundations of storefronts and homes. Some of the larger buildings held firm, though others looked to be on the very verge of collapse. Trees groaned and bent, and he could see speeders and debris being swept away. 

“What is it Solo?” Orrell demanded. Han was frozen, realization over what was happening making him forget how to move or even think straight. Finally Orrell grunted and snatched the binoculars away from him. Han didn’t even move. He just continued to stare at the valley below. 

The valley where he’d left Luke and Leia. 

Where they would have been right on the beach, learning to swim. The first victims in this terrible nightmare. 

“I didn’t even think a tsunami was possible here,” Orrell sounded just as shocked and horrified as he did. They may have been smugglers, but neither one of them were heartless enough to look at the devastation below them and shrug it off. 

Han could only stare, his mouth having fallen open, his body shaking. 

He’d left Luke and Leia down there. 

He’d left them down there. 

He was the one who, when he’d found out Luke couldn’t swim, got Leia to help him convince the kid to learn. He’d even attempted to give him his first lesson, until he bungled it up so badly that Leia had to step in. The only reason they weren’t up there with him was because Orrell distrusted anyone he didn’t know...had Han been a better teacher, maybe he could have been down there with Luke and...and…

And what? 

That was the kriffing ocean. The best swimmer in the galaxy...well. Maybe a Quarren or a Mon Calamari could have...but no. The force of that wave and all that debris…

Him being down there wouldn’t have changed anything. 

“I...I have to help.” He didn’t give a damn that the weapons weren’t finished being loaded. He was already moving, wishing he had Chewie there to keep him steady. Unfortunately, Spira wasn’t exactly a place wookies could easily blend in, so the Rebellion had asked him to stay behind. 

He began to back away from the edge of the platform, unable to tear his eyes away from the destruction below, but Orrell whirled, grabbing his wrist in a vise grip. 

“Are ya stupid?!” he hissed, gesturing wildly below them. “You go down there and you’re dead!” 

“The wave...I’ll go when it dies down--” 

“It’s a tsunami!” he snapped. “Don’t you know anythin’ about them?!” 

“I know they’re big killer waves and I have friends down there!” 

“And you think we don’t?!” Orrell gestured at his men who barely paid them any mind. Now that Han looked, he could see many of them were watching with tears in their eyes. “If I could, I’d load up and try to save as many people as I could, but this isn’t a war where you can just kill the bad guy! You go down there, and you’re just adding to the body count!” 

“But when the wave calms--” 

“If we’re lucky this will be the only wave!” 

His heart sank even lower. 

“What?” 

Orrell shook his head in disgust. “ Clearly you know nothin--”

“So tell me!” Han reached out and grabbed the front of the man’s shirt, shaking him a bit. In the back of his mind he knew he wasn’t going to make friends that way but he didn’t care. His friends were down there, possibly...no, probably…

He stopped that thought cold. 

Orrell didn’t look angry, though. Rather, he almost gave him a pitying look. “Solo. Tsunami’s often have more than one wave. Even if that dies down and it looks safe, and we go down there to start rescuing people, we might find ourselves getting hit with another wave. Then we’ll just add to the body count.” 

Han wanted to yell. He wanted to scream and rage at every god he’d ever heard of. He wanted to get in the Falcon and go down there to look for his friends…

But as much as he hated to admit it, Orrell was right. For once, he couldn’t use his charm or his luck to save his friends. 

He had to wait, wait and watch and agonize wondering if his very best friends in the entire galaxy had made it. 

Slowly, he let Orrell go. Then, numbly, he walked back to the edge of the platform, his eyes transfixed on the devastation below. Even from up here, he could hear distant screams of terror.

If they were alive, Luke and Leia’s screams were likely part of it. 

He was utterly helpless. 

His knees buckled, and he sank to his knees, unable to do anything except wait, hope, and pray to gods he didn’t believe in that this would be over soon, that his friends would be okay at the end of it.

He wouldn’t know what to do if they weren’t. 

Leia’s entire body shook from holding onto the tree so hard. Even as the water calmed around her and appeared to begin to lower, she didn’t dare let go. Just because she wasn’t from a planet with an ocean didn’t mean she didn’t know basic safety. She’d been as curious as any other kid with a datapad and infinite knowledge at her fingertips, and she’d read a bunch about the ocean before visiting the one ocean planet she’d been to. Most of it had been sea critters, but she’d read about tsunami’s and asked her father if they would be safe before they left. 

She should have told Luke. She should have told him...but even if she’d thought to do so, she wouldn’t have wanted to scare him more than he already was. 

Now...now…

She didn’t stop screaming for him. She didn’t know what she’d do if by some miracle he answered her--would she risk it all and let go to try to save him? 

Yes. Yes she would. 

And if she could only find him now, and get him somewhere safe before another wave could hit…

But Luke could barely swim. It would have to be some miracle for him to have survived that…

He’s survived worse. She tried to tell herself over and over again, squeezing her eyes shut against the despair that threatened to overwhelm her. Because she knew the truth--of course she did. As much as she worked to inspire hope in the people she led, she was, at her very core, a pragmatist. 

Luke was probably...he was probably…

She couldn’t think the word. So she kept screaming his name. Her voice was going hoarse, her own body was shaking as she held onto that tree with a durasteel grip, but she didn’t stop screaming for him, her own voice joining the other screams for help from other survivors around her. 

Then, above the screams, came that awful, familiar sound. The hissing that grew into a loud, terrible roar, the sound of debris crashing together all over again as what buildings were left groaned against the pressure of a second wave headed her way. 

Leia watched helplessly as a wall of debris-clogged black water filled the horizon. Screams for help turned to shrieks of terror, and there was nothing she could do except hold tighter, hoping it was enough, hoping that if her grip slipped that the tree trunks behind her would catch her long enough for her to try to regain her hold--

Water slammed into her, into the trees, so hard that the tree she held onto, the trees her back was against, bent backwards. Enough so that for some time that felt far longer than it probably was, she resubmerged back underwater, even as she held tight. Water shoved itself up her nose, threatening to force her to start sucking in air that wasn’t there if only to make the painful sensation stop. Broken glass and stars knew what else shredded at her hands and legs, and some disconnected part of her wondered how much blood she was losing.

But suddenly she had bigger problems. 

Her grip slipped. 

And before she could grab one of the other trees, she was being sucked out as if through a vacuum. 

She thrashed wildly, violently, looking for the surface so she could finally breathe and find something, anything else to help her survive. As her lungs screamed for air, she had a horrifying thought: this was it. She couldn’t be lucky twice.    

But even as she thought that, her head was suddenly above water and she sputtered and coughed, sucking in blessed air. She swam as hard as she could just to keep herself that way, the roaring current whisking her quickly inland. 

She needed to get somewhere safe again. Her chances of survival were dwindling the longer--

There. 

Coming up fast was a building--a home. It was floating, and there looked to be a family of Rodians sheltering on the roof, holding on for dear life as the home was at the mercy of the current. 

It wasn’t stable. The house could be smashed to pieces at any moment. But at this point, it was better than being in the water. 

So as Leia was carried up alongside of it, she reached out, grabbing hold of the edge. 

Her fingers immediately slipped on the slick tile, and for a terrifying moment the water sucked her back under--

A hand grabbed her wrist, and her shoulder screamed in protest as she was yanked up and onto the roof. 

She landed on her stomach, and she immediately began coughing, trying to expel any and all water she’d accidentally breathed in. The hand that had grabbed her had released her, and when she gathered enough energy, she looked up. 

The female Rodian was returning to two small children, and when she sat back down on the tile, pulling the children into her arms, she looked at Leia with such sorrow in her starry eyes. 

“Thank you.” Leia croaked, even as she lay her head back down, her cheek pressing against the wet tile of the roof. “Thank you.” 

It was terrifying to be floating on a home that could collapse at any moment. She knew she should get up and try to find something more stable as they floated, but she was completely and utterly exhausted. It was as if all of her muscles had decided to stop working--the idea of sitting up at this point was too much. 

So she just lay there, feeling herself be carried along, and though she was worried for her own safety, it was not her who her thoughts turned to. 

It was Luke. 

Luke, who, if she’d barely survived, was definitely dead. Luke who, had he survived the first wave, would have been killed by the second. Luke who, she had told not to let go. 

She’d let him go. And now he was probably dead. 

Leia rarely cried. At least, not in public. Not when things needed to be done. But floating there, her body completely exhausted, she didn’t care. 

She sobbed. Great, body-wracking sobs. 

She continued to cry long after the sensation of floating had stopped and the sound of rushing water faded. She cried until she could cry no more, and even then she lay there allowing herself to wallow in fear and despair while the flood waters began to recede, slowly, over hours, until all she was surrounded by was a sea of debris. 

She had failed him. She had failed her best friend. 

She’d let him go. 

It was her fault. 

The wave slammed into the speeder, sending it flipping over. Luke and the Imperial were thrown out, and he barely had a chance to suck in a deep breath before he was back under. 

This time as he tumbled, though, there was far less resignation. He’d been brought back. His life had been saved. He was not about to lose it, and the idea of swallowing water again--

He didn’t know if he was going the right direction. Everything was a confused, jumbled, painful whirlwind around him, but he began thrashing for the surface--or at least, the direction he was pretty sure the surface was. 

It took too long. At least, that’s how it felt. In reality, it could have been seconds, but it felt long enough that he was worried he was going the wrong way, or the current was pulling him back under, or--

His head broke the surface, and though his throat and chest ached, he gasped for air...and immediately began to cough. 

No. No. He needed to find something to hold onto, he needed--

There. 

The overturned speeder was drifting towards him, veering away quickly. He didn’t think--he didn’t have time to. He just immediately started swimming for it--or rather, paddling for it. He was afraid that he wasn’t strong enough to make it, and sure enough as it floated past him, he thought he’d missed his chance. But seeing it slip away, he felt as if a burst of energy welled up within him, and he moved, grabbing desperately for it. 

One moment he was too far, the next his hand was gripping one of the pipes underneath the speeder, pulling himself halfway up. He tried to pull himself fully up, but as he did, the vehicle dipped dangerously into the water, and fear shot through him. What if his weight finally caused it to sink? Then he’d be back where he started…

He opted to keep holding on, hoping it would be over soon. 

But his trouble wasn’t over yet. Being half submerged, he could still feel the current slamming debris into his legs. Now that he wasn’t immediately worried about drowning, he could feel his skin being sliced open. It was like a blender, and he was the main ingredient. 

Then there was the speed that he was being carried along. It was fast, as if he were on some terribly broken amusement park ride. Not that he’d ever been to one, but he’d seen enough holos to imagine it felt something like this. As he held on, he desperately wished he were in an X-wing, or at least he was holding onto a speeder that had any hope of working. That was familiar territory--he’d have a better chance if he’d been in something like that--

Suddenly the speeder’s edge hit...something. A house? A submerged tree? He wasn’t sure, but the next thing he knew, the speeder was spinning violently in the water, and he was gripping the pipe so hard, his hands ached. The spinning had his stomach reeling, and when he opened his eyes his vision swam, making the nausea worse, so he squeezed them tight again…

As a result, he didn’t see the obstacle he hit next. Or rather, crashed through. 

One moment he was spinning, the next he felt the speeder slam him into something that was at least initially solid. The breath left him in a whoosh even as he released a scream of pain. For a terrible moment, he thought he’d been pinned, but then whatever it was he crashed into splintered around him, and he was pushed into...into…

A collapsing building? 

That had to be it, because the next thing he knew, he was completely pinned. Wood and metal fell onto him, shoving his face against the bottom of the speeder. Pain screeched into him--his head, his shoulders, his chest, his waist... he almost didn’t notice the water trying to push the speeder further. But after a few inches, inches that at least freed some of the debris on top of him enough to allow him to breathe, it stopped. 

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of rushing water outside of his prison, and the sound of his ragged, pained breathing echoing off of the debris that surrounded him. 

He was trapped. 

He should have panicked. In fact, in his brain, he was pretty sure he would have. But he must have hit his head, because when he opened his eyes, everything was blurry. He could feel himself on the verge of unconsciousness, and though he initially struggled against it, it quickly became apparent that it was another losing battle. 

So, he let out a pained, shaky breath, and gave in. 

As he drifted off, he had two last thoughts: at least he hadn’t drowned, and…

He hoped that the Imperial and Leia had found a way to survive.

Chapter Text

Darth Vader meditated. 

It wasn’t something unusual. He often did so. But this was his first time meditating since he’d learned of the existence of not one, but two surviving children. 

It had started with Princess...with Leia. The girl had held up admirably against him, using measures that no regular person could stand against. He’d suspected by the end of his torture session that there was something amis, that perhaps she was some secretly trained Jedi hiding under his nose. So before he’d concluded, he’d had the droid draw blood, blood he’d intended on testing immediately but had ended up having to wait until he was back on the Devastator. And even then, he’d almost forgotten that he’d had the sample transferred to his personal quarters. It wasn’t until after the Emperor’s punishment for the Death Star did he remember, and he’d run it with the intent of using it as an appeasement present for the Emperor…

He hadn’t expected to find out that the stubborn Princess was not only Force Sensitive, but his daughter. 

Then, when Boba Fett had returned from his mission to find out the name of the pilot who’d destroyed the Death Star, he hasn’t expected to find out she had a twin. 

Luke Skywalker. 

Leia Organa...or rather, Skywalker. 

Twins. He had twins. They’d survived, meaning their mother hadn’t immediately died, and they’d been taken from him. If their names were anything to go by, they might not even know they were twins. 

And if the Emperor found out that there was not only one Skywalker, but two… 

There were two dreadful possibilities. The first being that the Emperor would keep them both for himself. He’d sensed just a fraction of Luke’s power before the boy had fired the final blow on the Death Star. If both had that immense power, he had no doubt the Emperor would covet it for himself. 

The second possibility, and the more likely possibility, was that the Emperor would pit all of them against each other, and the strongest would end up being the Emperor’s new apprentice. The Sith, after all, operated by the Rule of Two, and there was no doubt the Emperor would be threatened by all three living Skywalkers running around the galaxy. 

Considering his condition, he had a feeling this time he might not come out on top. 

But beyond that, the idea of having to kill his children, or even just losing one of them to death, after he’d already lost their mother…

No. That would not be allowed to happen. He needed to find a way to find the twins while concealing them from the Emperor, and somehow finding a way to overthrow the Emperor and live in a galaxy with two Sith apprentices, not just one.

But meditation had yet to give him the answers he sought. All he saw when he tried to find answers was darkness, or slim images he couldn’t quite discern. Meditation had never been his strength, even as a Jedi. He was starting to wonder if he didn’t have enough information--

Suddenly, a clear image entered the Force, along with strong emotions that were familiar, but were not his own. 

Someone was running. He tried to get a good glimpse of where they were at, but the images shook. There was a terribly loud rumbling behind him, and when he turned to look he found a wall of water rushing towards him, swallowing tropical shacks and people as if it were nothing. 

“Don’t you let go of my hand!” A feminine voice screamed. No, he recognized that voice. He recognized that scream. 

Leia. 

“Don’t you dare let go!” His vision was still out of his control, but he could see more tropical-themed buildings around them, buildings not strong enough to withstand a wave like what was coming for them. 

“I won’t!” Male. And if he had to guess, considering the strength of the vision and who he knew Leia to be in the company of, he guessed he was seeing through Luke’s eyes. Through his son’s eyes. He could feel the boy’s terror, his desperation, the unfiltered feelings of death the boy was picking up through the Force… “Leia, I don’t know how--” 

Because Luke was raised in the desert. What little information Vader had on the boy had told him he was from Tatooine, where the only “sea” was made up of sand. Had he even learned to swim? Had he--? 

“Don’t let go!” Leia screamed, and a split second later, he felt the wave smash into them, felt their hands slip--

His eyes flashed open, his chest instinctively gasping, even as his burnt lungs protested with sharp pain that had him coughing. But he couldn’t bring himself to care, not when he could still hear the desperation in his children’s voices, not when he could feel the danger they were in screaming at him, urging him to act. 

He flipped the switch to bring his helmet down on his head, and the moment it was on, he was comming the most competent person on his ship. 

Captain Piett answered on the second ring. “Yes, Lord Vader?” 

He should have contacted the Admiral, but Ozzel was an idiot. He had yet to find a reason to kill him without bringing the Emperor’s ire down on him, and he was certain Ozzel was nothing more than a puppet to the Emperor. He wasn’t about to give information that could risk Leia and Luke’s identity being discovered by the Emperor to one of his lackeys. 

“Search for any distress calls from any tropical planet experiencing a tsunami.” He ordered. “As soon as you find it, send it directly to me.” 

Piett didn’t argue or ask questions even though Vader was well aware that this was an issue that he normally would never care about. He simply nodded curtly. “It will be done, my lord.” 

He cut the communication and waited impatiently, the sense of danger growing stronger and stronger. He was half-tempted to start meditating again, if only to see how his children were faring. But if he did that, he might lose precious time when the call came in, and he couldn’t risk that. As it was, his children could have precious moments left, and there was nothing he could do to protect them from where he was. Just as quickly as he’d learned about their existence, he could lose them, and he was powerless to change that. 

It was happening again, he thought as he gripped the sides of his meditation chair so hard, metal began to bend. He was about to lose his family, and he had no power to stop it. 

But before he could start spiraling into his anger, there was a ping on his comm. He pulled the information up, and there--coordinates. 

Spira. 

What were they doing there?! Spira was Imperial controlled, it was a vacation planet. There was no strategic value, and therefore there was no reason for any war to come to it. Even the Clone Wars had skipped over the remote tropical planet. 

But regardless of why, he knew without a doubt that Luke and Leia were there, fighting for their lives, and whether they wanted his help or not, they needed it. 

He didn’t hesitate to call the Admiral and give the order, offering no explanation why they were deviating from their objective. 

They had to live. He wouldn’t let them die. 

Not again. 

Even when the water subsided and the building they were on stopped floating, Leia didn’t move from off the roof. She lay on her side, watching the sunset beyond the horizon of an ocean that now appeared relatively calm from a distance. She was silent as water receded long after dark, until all that was left was debris and silence. 

The silence was the most eerie part. Everyone was either dead, or waiting to see if the ocean would return to swallow them again. Worse, the silence was weighed with immeasurable anguish and pain. She didn’t know how she knew that--perhaps it was just her own silence motivated by those feelings that caused her to assume it was that way for everyone. But she didn’t move. She didn’t close her eyes, as tired as she was. She just stared into the darkness. 

At least, it was dark until a haunting, orange glow began to grow in the distance. 

Fire. 

Something had caught fire, and it was spreading. 

It was far away from where she was at, but in the pitch darkness, it was a beacon. 

“Oil fire, probably.” She heard the female Rodian whisper to her children. “I’ll keep an eye on it. Sleep. I’ll wake you if we need to leave.” 

She heard the children mutter something to their mother, but Leia didn’t bother listening. She just stared, stared at the distant embers lighting the sky, wondering what she’d find when daylight came and she’d have to climb down from the roof to face the consequences of what she’d done. 

Because it was her fault. She’d let Luke go. For the first time, she found she didn’t care what else was happening in the galaxy--she wasn’t leaving until she found Luke’s body. 

It was the very least she could do. 

So she stared and waited, watching the distant fire burn, her thoughts never straying from her lost friend. 

Luke slipped in and out of consciousness. Anytime he opened his eyes, his vision was still blurry. But he could feel things, still. He could feel the pressure of the debris on his body, pinning him face-first onto the bottom of the speeder. He could feel the metal beneath his face was warm and sticky, though he couldn’t remember why. Weirdly enough, one of the few moments he was conscious, he thought he must have spilled some sticky fruit juice, and he thought I really need to clean that up before Leia gets mad. 

But he was unconscious again before he could gather the strength to try. 

Later, when he woke up, he felt different. He couldn’t figure out why--the same pressure was pushing into his back, making it painful to breathe. His face was still stuck to the metal of the speeder. But he didn’t...he didn’t feel like he was floating anymore. He was still wet, and now he was shivering, aggravating his injuries further, but he wasn’t floating. 

Was that a good thing? 

He couldn’t remember, and it was too dark to see anything. 

He’d worry about it later, he decided, his head swimming. But even as he fell back into blissful darkness, he could smell smoke. No, it was worse than that--it smelled rancid. Like...like…

Like burning bodies. 

Like his aunt and uncles corpses, except far stronger. 

I should leave. He thought, unable to open his eyes. He was just so tired… 

He fell back into darkness. 

Morning was worse. 

When Leia got down from the roof, the enormity of her task hit her. 

Everything was destroyed. What was once a tropical beach town bustling with life was now endless piles of destroyed buildings. Every once in a while there stood the ruined husk of a building, but everything else was completely destroyed. 

And bodies...they were everywhere. 

She’d been on a few battlefields. She’d seen and climbed over multiple bodies before. But this...this felt different. None of these people were soldiers...or rather, most weren’t. Even the Imperials stationed here hadn’t been battle-hardened killing machines. They were stationed on a planet that would never know action as a formality, and though she didn’t agree with who they were serving, when she came across their bodies, she could only feel pity for them for those who loved them. They probably had family who’d been happy to find out their child wouldn’t see battle who would now find out they’d lost them anyway to an unstoppable force of nature. 

People were digging through the rubble already. One man found the body of a child, and the group of people he was with stopped what they were doing to attempt to resuscitate the boy. 

Leia turned away. She didn’t want to see the end, she didn’t want to see what she already knew. 

The enormity of everything was overwhelming. She didn’t even know where to start. For all she knew, the wave could have dragged Luke’s body out to sea. Eventually, she came across a pile of rubble and began to dig. She doubted Luke was under it, but what else was she supposed to do? 

She had to start somewhere. 

It was difficult work, made worse by the fact that she still only had a ripped shirt and a swimsuit on. She didn’t have any special tools, let alone gloves or shoes, and there were multiple times where she was poked with debris she didn’t want to think about. There were plenty of open cuts and bruises all over her body as well--she was certain digging and moving bodies was just exposing her to all types of infectious diseases. 

But she didn’t care. 

She didn’t stop until she’d pulled out a fifth body. By then, the bodies were beginning to smell like suffocating rot, and she knew before she even found it that a body was there. It gave her time to mentally prepare herself for pulling it out and seeing the still, cold face of her best friend staring back at her. 

None of them were, but she couldn’t bring herself to be relieved. By the time she found the fifth body, she felt like she wanted to crawl out of her own body if only to escape the mountain of anxiety building within it. Seeing that the body was that of a young woman about her age, she made a strained noise of pain and jerked away, stumbling backwards away from the pile. 

There had to be a better way. If she kept at it alone, she’d never find him, and all those bodies…

Her breathing quickened, and she turned, heading towards the section of the city that was still standing. Surely there had to be someone with resources who could help her there, right? 

In the pit of her stomach, she knew the answer. Everyone was overwhelmed. As she walked, it became evident. Others had stopped digging like she had. Most seemed to be headed in the same direction, but others just sat there. Many had the telltale blank look of someone in shock. Others had their faces in their hands. 

But one woman, one woman just stood in the middle of what Leia thought must have been her home and she wailed. Haunting, loud, gut-wrenching wails of anguish and raw, unfiltered pain. 

“Everything’s gone,” Leia was able to make out in her cries, “I’ve lost everyone, they’re all gone!” 

Leia teared up, her breath quickening as she connected with that pain. Part of her wished she could join the woman and scream her feelings out into the universe. 

But she had to keep moving. She was going to find Luke. She had to. 

She owed it to him. 

So she reached up, wiped the tears from her face, and continued towards town. 

Han doubted Luke and Leia would be there. It was an emergency town hall organized by Imperials, after all. But considering this was an Imperial world with only an underground smuggler presence, they were the only ones with the means to sort this mess out. 

And even if he didn’t find them there, he could at least learn what he could about rescue efforts so he could join. 

Still, he was technically wanted for his smuggling efforts. So when he entered the massive ballroom stuffed full of unwashed, muddy bodies, he kept to the back of the room, away from any Imperials. He figured they had better things to worry about at the moment, but if worst came to worst, he could always talk his way out of arrest. 

It was the most disorganized Imperial event he’d ever seen. Usually these things were orderly down to the second--all apart of the Imperial bureaucracy. But when three fourths of the town was totally done and the last fourth was damaged, and when most of the people who’d lived and visited there were dead or missing, even cold Imperials turned back into just ordinary people, trying to make sense of what was left. 

Problem was, the survivors in that room expected them to have all the answers. 

“A distress call was sent to the Empire.” An Imperial was saying, his voice amplified by rudimentary speakers...maybe one of the few still working. “Short range signals are unfortunately not working, but we have…” he hesitated, and Han could see the stress lining his face. The man suddenly looked far too young--perhaps even his age when he’d initially joined the navy. Far too young to be leading a rescue effort. “We have long range, and a star destroyer will be arriving to assist in rescue and medical efforts.” 

There was a surge of questions from the audience and the man held up a hand. “Medical centers are full, some are damaged, but the good news is we didn’t lose any. The bad news is that beds and medical supplies are limited. As a result, there will be postings outside of the medical center with the list of admitted patients. If you find someone you know admitted,, at that point you can ask nursing staff for updates. Otherwise, please do not take precious time that could be used for saving others.” 

The information did little to calm the room of anxious and heart broken people, but Han filed the information away. Even though it did little to tell him if his friends were alive, it gave him ideas on how to find them. The incoming Star Destroyer would be problematic, but maybe he could find his friends before the place was either crawling with stormtroopers, or worse, they were transported to the destroyer for medical care. They’d certainly be recognized there. 

That is, if they were still…

He refused to finish that thought, and instead he forced himself to concentrate on the information being given by crossing his arms and glaring at the poor young Imperial at the front of the crowd. 

“The dead…” the man visibly swallowed. “The dead will be searched for identification. Bodies without identification will be holographed and posted along with the list of names both electronically and on flimsi lists at town hall.” 

Han’s hands clenched into tight fists. 

“And where do we collect the bodies?!” Someone shouted. 

It was hard to breathe. 

They couldn’t be dead. They just couldn’t be. They were the strongest people he knew….even if Luke barely knew how to swim…

The man shifted. “We will attempt to hold the bodies for as long as possible...but at some point decay sets in and if we don’t identify the body in time--” 

Outraged yells broke out and the Imperial switched to trying to calm the crowd down. Han, however, was quite done. He knew what he needed to know. More Imperials were coming, he knew where to look for injured survivors, and he...and he knew where to look for bodies. He’d work with that. 

He turned, pushing his way through the crowd, ignoring the rank smell of collective body odor, making a plan to start making rounds to all of the medical centers. 

But a hand gripped his arm. 

He tensed, his heart plunging into his stomach. Even now, after all the chaos, Imperials just couldn’t leave a smuggler-turned-rebel alone--

But when he turned, he wasn’t looking at an Imperial ready to shoot or arrest him. 

He was looking at the strained, exhausted face of Leia. 

He blew out a sharp breath, and not caring who was watching or how she’d told him repeatedly exactly what she thought about him, he pulled her into his arms and held her close. 

She was alive. 

She was alive. 

She didn’t push him away. She wrapped her arms around him, her fingers digging into his shirt, looking for comfort just as much as he held her in utter relief that she was there, breathing. “You’re alive.” He breathed, and reluctantly he pushed her to arms length, getting a better look. She was wearing a torn shirt and a swim suit. No pants. No shoes, and her face, arms and legs were covered in cuts and bruises. Her hair, usually perfect, was loose and tangled around her shoulders, and there were dark circles under her eyes.  

Leia let out a whimper, and tears welled up in her eyes. “I let him go.” 

Han’s brows creased. “What?” 

Leia hung her head, and he watched her gulp with some difficulty. “I...I told him not to let go….I had his hand, Han, and...and I let him go and now...and now…” 

He felt like the world was collapsing beneath him. 

Luke. 

Luke wasn’t here. 

And by the way Leia, the most in control person he knew, was completely losing it…

He glanced around them. There were a few people giving them envious looks, probably because they wished they could find their loved ones too. Despite his rising panic, if Leia wasn’t able to take charge like she usually did, then he’d have to somehow make do, starting with getting them away from crowds where she might be recognized. He slipped his arm around her shuddering shoulders and led her out into the muggy evening. 

“We’ll find him, Leia.” He said when they’d reached a certain distance. “I swear, we’ll find him.” 

Leia was already shaking her head. “We’re looking for his body, Han.” 

Han clenched his jaw, fighting his panicked instinct to start yelling. She didn’t need that, and he was still just grateful at least one of his friends had survived. Getting into one of their infamous arguments now wouldn’t help Luke. “Look, if there’s one thing I know from livin’ the life of a smuggler, it’s that people ain’t dead until you have a body. If you assume otherwise, you’re in for a nasty surprise later.” 

Leia paused, giving him a look. “Luke being alive wouldn’t--” 

“There’s a star destroyer full of Imperials coming this way. If we assume he’s dead and leave, we might find out later the Empire captured him.” 

“I’m not leaving without his body--” 

“Good. But until then, let’s just keep our options open.” 

Leia shook her head, and there was a terrible, haunted look in her eyes that made him shudder to think exactly what she went through in those waters. “You weren’t...you weren’t there, Han. You didn’t feel the force of that wave. I got lucky. Everyone alive got lucky. And Luke...Luke didn’t even know how to swim…” she trailed off, burying her face in her hands. 

He let out a breath. He knew she was right. The chances of Luke surviving were lower than most. But he just...couldn’t give up hope. The kid had been lucky before--though he’d always insisted it wasn’t luck. Whether it was luck or the Force, Han didn’t care. He just hoped it came through for him when he needed it most. 

“I’m going to help you, Leia. You’re not alone in this.” He promised. “But you’re dead on your feet. You need to go back to the Falcon, treat those wounds, shower, and sleep.” 

Already Leia was shaking her head. “I can’t, you heard what that man said: bodies are going to decay, and if we don’t find him in time--” 

“I said you needed to do that, not me.” Han interrupted. “I’ll take you back to make sure you got there safe, but I’ll come back out and start checking lists.” He didn’t mention that he was checking the hospital lists first, if only to avoid an argument. 

He just had to keep hoping Luke was okay. He had to. 

“We can trade shifts tomorrow. You’re not helping anyone like this.” 

There was a spark in Leia’s eyes that had Han bracing himself for an argument, but just as quickly it faded and her shoulders slumped. 

“I hate it when you’re right.” 

He couldn’t help a small smile. “I know. Now. Let’s get you back to the Falcon, shall we?” 

When Luke opened his eyes, it was completely dark. He wasn’t sure if he was blind, or if it was night. He hoped it was the latter. 

His entire body was stiff, his head pounding. Worse, he was so exhausted, he just wanted to sleep more.

But the pressure on his body was making it difficult to breathe, and he knew he could only stay for so long before he’d end up dying. 

“Hello?” He mustered the strength to yell, hoping someone could hear him. It was difficult to even remember how to “Hello?! Is there anyone out there? I need help!” 

Silence. 

He let out a sob, which caused his chest to protest in pain. But he couldn’t stop crying, not when he couldn’t break free, and though he was sure the debris hadn’t moved, it suddenly felt like it was pressing down harder and harder. Any moment, he’d squish like a bug, insignificant and forgotten. He tried to grab at anything to try to move the debris off him himself, but he was positioned in such a way that he could only grab the speeder, and in his panic he clawed at it until his fingers were raw and probably bleeding. 

He needed out. He needed out. 

“Help!” He was crying. He didn’t know how loud he was, but in his mind, his panic was the loudest sound in the galaxy. “Get me out!” 

He repeated the words, over and over again, meaningless pleas for freedom as the debris seemed to close in around him. It was like he was drowning all over again, even though this time his lungs still drew breath. 

A long, slow, painful, confining drowning. That was his fate. 

Desperately, he reached out a hand, and though he didn’t understand what he was doing consciously, he felt the Force rising in response, ready to lash out at his command--

If you lash out now, you will only make it worse. 

Luke sucked in a pained breath. 

That voice...it felt familiar. He couldn’t place it, not in his panic, but it was dark and commanding, and it’s presence sent cold seeping into his limbs. He thought he might have heard it before...but it was more than that. It felt...it felt…

It felt like his very soul knew that voice, that presence. 

I am coming for you. You will not die. I will not allow it. 

He wasn’t sure how that was possible, but the thought that someone was coming for him...well. It didn’t make him feel any less like he was slowly drowning in darkness, but it did calm the panic, if only a little. 

Rest. I will be there soon. 

How could he? How could he rest when he was stuck? He needed out. Worse, the thought occurred to him that perhaps he was dreaming this voice. His head was pounding, after all--maybe this was an illusion conjured from his own deteriorating mental state, and it was just a sign of the death that was to come--

Rest. 

This time when the command came, he felt his own grasp on the Force respond to it, and before he could muster the strength to fight against it, his body was relaxing almost of its own accord and his eyes closed…

He knew no more. 

Leia was tired of looking at bodies. She was tired of looking at lists. And most of all, she was tired of the stink of rotting flesh permeating the air. The amount of dead bodies were enough so that it seemed like everywhere they went, she could smell them. A constant reminder of what Luke likely was now, a constant reminder of her failure to hold onto him. 

But Han was far more optimistic. Anytime they passed a med center, he approached the list of patients while Leia went to the list of the dead. “Maybe he wouldn’t have given his real name.” Han said once after he’d failed to find Luke. “Do you know what name he might have used?” 

Leia had no idea. Their friendship was still so new...she knew he had an uncle and aunt who died, but she didn’t know their names. She knew what he was wearing when they’d been separated, and she knew he didn’t have his ID on him. “I don’t know.” She said, and she didn’t bother to remind Han that again, the chances that he’d survived were far too low. 

As angry as she was at the universe, she couldn’t turn that anger on Han. Not this time. Not when Han was clinging desperately to the hope that their friend was alive. She...she couldn’t ruin that for him. 

Especially since she’d always suspected that Han and Luke...well. It was still too early to tell, but she’d always wondered if there could be something more between them, if they survived the war. They’d had a close bond, despite their obvious differences. 

For some reason, the idea that Luke had died not in the heat of battle, but by a random natural disaster, something completely out of their control and with no real meaning…

She closed her eyes. Nearby, a human man must have found a picture of a lost loved one’s found body, because she listened to him cry out, “That’s her! Oh gods, that’s her, no, my baby--” 

“We need to move.” She forced herself to say, her voice breaking. As much as she dreaded the closure of finding Luke’s body, at least she wanted that closure. She almost felt envy along with her pity for the man who’d now broken down sobbing, his hand shakily reaching out to touch the reflected holo of the dead girl.

At least he’d found her. At least he knew. 

She turned and began to walk away briskly, her breath quickening as more tears flooded to her eyes. Han rushed to catch up. 

“Where are we going?” He asked. 

Even through her tears, she noted the heightened presence of troopers. Perhaps the star destroyer had arrived. She should have been concerned, especially since she had a far more recognizable face than Han’s, but she didn’t give a damn. Besides, they seemed preoccupied with helping in the clean up and rescue efforts. 

“We should head back to shore. They’re pulling in bodies that were swept out to sea.” 

“Yeah, and survivors.” Han rushed to add. 

Leia opened her mouth...then closed it. 

She couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t break his heart. He’d figure it out, soon enough--

“That will not be necessary.” 

Leia’s entire body jolted and she sucked in a sharp breath, whirling, her hand going to the gun she’d picked up from the Falcon earlier as she whirled to face the man who’d haunted her nightmares. 

There, standing amongst the wreckage, was Darth Vader. Leia almost expected to see him flanked by stormtroopers, but oddly, he was alone. And though she’d seen Vader standing on multiple destroyed cities before, he somehow seemed out of place here where he nor his men had caused such devastation. 

He reached out a hand, and with a flick of his wrist, both hers and Han’s blasters flew out of their hands and to Vader’s. “Nor will these be necessary.” 

Though she felt the petrifying terror that always came whenever she was in Vader’s presence, she also couldn’t help the rush of anger that over came her, and she glared. “I do not have time for this bullshit. If you haven’t noticed, I’m busy, and for once it has nothing to do with bringing down your stupid Empire.” 

Han made a noise that reminded her that technically, finding the guy who’d blown up the Death Star was actually business the Empire would be extremely interested in. She didn’t give a damn. She didn’t even know if Vader knew who Luke even was yet. 

She expected Vader to point out that, as a Rebel, it didn’t matter what she was doing. She’d technically forfeited her rights as a citizen the moment it became obvious what she was. But instead, Vader just stared at her, holding their guns in his hands...before his fists clenched and both blaster barrels crunched. 

“Shit…” Han breathed, watching Vader casually toss the blasters into the wreckage around them. 

“For once, Princess, I am not here to hinder your efforts.” 

“Bullshit.” Han said, this time louder. Leia unconsciously stepped between him and Vader, even though she knew it was a futile effort. Vader was like an evil version of Luke and Obi-Wan Kenobi...she’d felt his powers first hand. If Vader wanted to kill Han, there was nothing she could do to stop him. 

But Vader ignored him. His full attention was on her, his loud breathing steady and rhythmic.

“I don’t believe you.” she said, firmly, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Vader stared. With each passing moment, the tension between them heightened, until finally, he spoke, and everything she’d ever known seemed to snap apart.  

“I am here to assist you in finding your brother.”

Chapter Text

Vader didn’t have time to stop and talk. He could feel his son, the boy he’d hardly even met, slipping away. It was amazing that he’d already established a bond with the boy--the power of a blood relation, he supposed, but it wasn’t quite strong enough to tell him which of the incredibly strong force presences he’d sensed was which. He’d ended up finding Leia first...which, though he of course wanted her with him, was not what he was hoping for. 

Not when she was in one piece and his son was not. 

“We do not have long.” He said, turning. “He needs immediate medical attention--” 

“How the hell do you know he’s my brother?!” 

Perhaps he shouldn’t have led with what he had, but he’d been trying to get her to listen. He didn’t have time to deal with this. 

“I will answer questions later. As I said, if you wish him to live, cease speaking and help.” 

He didn’t wait for them to make their minds up. He turned and started storming for the other presence, the one in the total opposite direction. He cursed himself as he went, fists clenching. He should have known he was following the wrong child...or rather, he should have sent troopers to one location and him the other. It would have saved time. 

But if Palpatine found out that he had not one, but two children alive…

Had he sent troopers, he would have found out. 

He heard and felt Leia rushing after him. It was odd, being this close to her--it was obvious now that she was Force sensitive. She was a storm in the Force, but unlike his storm of rage and anger, hers was righteous justice. Or the perception of it. And determination. 

And fear. Of him, yes, but more than that--for her brother. 

“You do not get to drop that bomb and walk away from me!” Leia snarled. 

Oh yes. She was his daughter. How had he not seen it? 

“Your brother will die if he does not receive medical attention.” 

He would have expected that to be the end of the argument, but it seemed Leia was a rebel in more ways than one. 

“He’s dead.” 

Anyone else might have missed the quiver in her voice. Not him. 

She truly believed that. Could she really not sense him? Could she not sense the pain he was in? Or did she sense it and misinterpret it? 

How had Kenobi allowed for his children to be so untrained? 

“He is not. I would not feel him if he were. But he will be if we do not reach him in time.” 

“How do you know?!” Now Leia’s voice openly broke. He glanced over his shoulder and found angry tears in her eyes as she rushed after him. “You weren’t there! You weren’t in those waves! And he can’t kriffing--” 

She broke off, but she didn’t need to finish the sentence. He remembered well what it was like to live on a desert planet where people had to farm for moisture. There certainly hadn’t been enough water for anyone to learn to swim. 

More than that, in his brief vision he’d had, he’d heard Luke try to tell Leia exactly that--that he couldn’t swim. He’d heard the terror in his son’s voice, and though he’d really only ever seen Luke from a distance, he’d never felt so much fear for someone...at least not in many, many years. 

Vader never empathized with anyone. But...in that moment, he knew exactly the kind of fear and despair Leia had gone through. He didn’t understand what it was to have survived a tsunami (though one look around gave him a good idea), but he understood losing someone close. And though she would be better off without most of her attachments (such as the smuggler trailing nervously after her), Luke was...different. Luke was her brother, a brother she hadn’t known about until he’d dropped the information on her, but her twin brother nonetheless. 

Luke was family. 

He understood that anguish. 

“Nevertheless.” He insisted, “Luke survived. I will prove it to you.” 

There was a silence for a moment and he thought he’d won the argument. They climbed over debris and bodies, and for once everyone living was so preoccupied with picking up the pieces of their broken lives that it seemed to hardly matter that Vader was in their midst. 

But, before Vader could savor the feeling of being ignored rather than gawked at, Leia asked again. “How do you know?” 

Vader stopped, casting his senses out. Searching. From behind, Leia almost bumped into him, but she recoiled quickly, as if touching him would burn her. 

He found Luke’s weak signal, alarmed to find it had weakened further since he’d started heading towards it, and said, without thinking, “He is my son.” 

She sucked in a breath, but he’d already moved on, set on his objective. 

Luke needed him. 

If Leia ran...it went against every instinct in his body, but he’d hunt her down and bring her home later. She was physically in one piece. Luke was not. 

He would not lose one of his children before he’d even gotten to know him. 

But Leia did not run, except to catch up to him. “You’re lying!” 

“Search your feelings. You know it to be true.” 

“My feelings are not a paternity test!” 

“No. I already had one done when I noticed you were exceptionally...difficult to crack.” 

While he’d been torturing her. 

Leia’s emotions threatened to overwhelm him, and threatened to make him lose track of Luke. “Do not succumb to your emotions. You will interfere with my search for your brother.” 

“I hate you.” 

And he felt it. That hate. The Dark Side sang with it--she would be a formidable Sith indeed. 

Yet at the moment, it was not at all helpful to his search for Luke. 

“If you cannot control yourself, you can leave.” 

“Never.” 

He was about to retort, but suddenly he felt Luke. Reaching out, blindly, unconsciously. Searching for someone, anyone, who could help him. 

And he was close. 

Vader was her father. Vader was her father. 

The implications were too much. Not just for her role in the Rebellion, but what it meant about her. What it meant about her family. Vader was a monster, a monster who’d tortured his own daughter, and in the process had found out about their relationship and shoved it in her face when she was already hurt and vulnerable. 

But if Luke were still alive…

Her brother…

She’d let go of her brother…

Vader had stopped abruptly again, looking off towards a particularly large pile of rubble. The end of a speeder was sticking out of what looked like the remains of a building. 

For a brief moment, she forgot about Vader. She forgot about the revelation that had rocked her to her core. She forgot Han approaching tentatively from behind, his eyes warily on Vader as if one wrong move and he’d try to kill the man who’d already proved to be difficult to kill. 

She felt drawn to that rubble. It was as if something, or someone, were calling to her, asking her to...to...do something. She didn’t know what. 

She just knew it was important, and apparently, so did Vader. 

“I will prove that he is alive.” Vader said, and Leia somehow wasn’t surprised when he reached out towards the rubble. 

Leia knew of the Force. Her father...the father who mattered to her had told her about it growing up. She’d heard stories of the Jedi. She knew that Vader had some kind of evil Force abilities her father had called Sith. And of course she’d seen Luke use small displays of the Force before. 

But she still had to grudgingly admit there was something awe inspiring to see Vader effortlessly lift pieces of rubble one by one at a speed far quicker than both she and Han together could have done, until finally a body was revealed, pressed face-first against the hood of the speeder. 

As Vader tossed the debris aside like it was nothing, Leia rushed forward. She momentarily forgot that she had Vader breathing ominously at her back. She forgot Han, even as he rushed to follow her. 

All that mattered was what her heart told her, even without seeing the body’s face. 

Luke. 

She climbed over the debris, and when she reached him she hesitated, still afraid of what she’d find. Vader sounded so confident that she was alive, but what if this was another trick? Was Vader cruel enough to torture her with lies that Luke was still alive? That she hadn’t completely failed him and let him die? 

Desperation clawed at her, and she sank to her knees, ignoring the broken wood and metal poking into her skin as she carefully pulled the body from the wreckage and turned him over. 

Luke. 

It was Luke. 

And, with him in her arms, he was warm...or at least, not cold enough to be dead. She watched his chest laboriously rise and fall. His lips were turning blue. There was blood on his temple, the color brilliant against his too pale skin. Worse, when she moved him, she could tell there were broken bones, though she wasn’t experienced enough to know which ones. 

But he was alive. 

“Is he…?” Han asked. He’d knelt by her side, and, she realized, had actually helped her pull Luke from the wreckage in the first place. 

She was too worried about Luke to dwell on it further. Something in the back of her head reminded her that Vader was there, that he was the only reason they’d found Luke in time, but she couldn’t focus. Not with Luke--her brother-- unconscious in her arms. 

“For now.” Her voice broke. “Oh, stars, Luke I’m so sorry…” 

Her voice broke and tears spilled from her eyes and down her cheeks. This time she was acutely aware of Vader close enough to see her cry. She hadn’t even given him the satisfaction of seeing her cry on the Death Star, but now, with Luke struggling for life in her arms…

But when she glanced over, she found him seemingly not paying attention at all. He had his comm in his hand and, when she bothered to listen in, found him contacting his forces to bring a medical team to his location. 

Leia swallowed hard, turning away. “Han, I need you to do exactly as I tell you.” 

Han hesitated, and she was aware that he’d glanced towards Vader. “Depends, princess.” 

She swallowed multiple angry retorts. She didn’t have time to argue with him. 

“Vader is preoccupied with Luke and...and myself--”

“Yeah, because you’re his dau--”

“He isn’t preoccupied with you. Luke needs medical attention--”

“You’re not seriously suggesting that--” 

“I am.” She met his eyes with a glare, daring him to challenge her. “If we don’t get him help now, he will die. I need you to help him live to fight another day by escaping now. Go to the Rebellion, tell them what’s happened, and come up with a rescue plan.” 

“You don’t seriously think we can spring you directly from Vader’s flagship--” 

“You’re creative. You’ll figure it out.” She glanced again at Vader. He was still talking on the comm. “Please, Han, now is your chance.” 

Han hesitated, and she thought he was going to argue further. But then he glanced down at Luke, his features softening, and he nodded. 

“Okay. But don’t you dare get yourself killed, or worse, turned in to the Emperor.” 

She...hadn’t thought of that. 

“Then hurry back fast.” The grin she gave him didn’t meet her eyes, and he nodded grimly before carefully and casually slipping away. 

She resisted the urge to watch him go. She didn’t want Vader to notice--she’d need to keep his focus on her and Luke. But more than that, she needed to focus on Luke until he was well enough to escape. 

So as Vader ended the comm call and started to approach, Leia held Luke as tightly as she dared, focusing on what warmth he had as she whispered, “Hold on just a little longer, Luke. I’m here. I’m not letting you go. Not this time. Not ever again.” 

And she wouldn’t. No matter what Vader threw at them, no matter what he did to them, she’d make sure Luke would be safe. 

Vader had expected Luke’s injuries to be bad, but he hadn’t expected how bad. The boy truly had been lucky, and had it not been for the Force, he would have died. Most of the injuries, numerous deep lacerations, could be healed within a few hours in a bacta tank. But other injuries would be a longer process to heal, such as the boy’s broken ribs, the concussion and shattered pelvis. 

Then there was the matter of the damage the apparent almost drowning had done to the boy’s lungs and throat. It would heal faster than the broken bones, but the reminder that they were there, that Luke had to heal from it at all, disturbed him. He wasn’t sure why. After all, he’d killed plenty of people by asphyxiation, and seeing the other drowned bodies left behind while on the surface of the planet didn’t phase him. 

But when it was his own son…

It had been too close, and if he hadn’t heard Luke’s call, he never would have known. He would have only found out after he’d started his own search for his second child and found out that he’d died in that pile of filth, another name added to the thousands who’d died on that island. 

He hadn’t woken up since arriving, either. No doubt waking up on his ship in a private suite with no explanation would be terrifying, but Luke was safe here. Safe and well cared for, and once Vader broke the truth to him (he had yet to figure out how to do that without jeopardizing his healing process), the boy would want to stay. He was certain of it. 

Leia never left Luke’s side. She sat now in an overstuffed chair, the most comfortable he could find, holding Luke’s hand. He could feel the self blame emanating from her. Now that Luke was settled into a warm, safe bed, she’d pulled her gaze from him to stare at the planet below. 

She’d said nothing to him. Not since he’d killed the stormtroopers that had helped bring Luke back to hide the fact that he’d just brought aboard a well-known rebel princess on his ship. Even though they were her enemy, she’d spat curses at him, reminding him exactly what kind of monster she viewed him as. 

She wasn’t wrong. 

“It is not your fault.” 

He wasn’t sure why he bothered. She hated him, and for good reason. He didn’t blame her for it, and technically as a Sith, he should encourage it. But the way she looked at the planet below...the way her eyes seemed distant, even as her hand clasped Luke’s, tracing circles into the back of his hand…

The sound of his voice made her body tense, but she didn’t tear her gaze away. “It’s none of your business.” 

He squared his shoulders. He should drop it, accept that she’d always hate him, encourage her to use it to power herself in the Dark Side--

“I knew you were in trouble because I saw what happened.” 

That caused her to finally look at him. She looked at him like he was crazy. “That’s impossible.” 

He almost scoffed. “The very fact that Luke is alive and healing should prove that nothing is impossible with the Force.” 

Her lips tightened and she turned back to stare at Luke’s sleeping face. “You tracked him.” 

“I did.” 

“You tracked us.” 

“I did. So remember that when your idiot smuggler attempts to free you.” 

He immediately sensed what he’d expected--fear of discovery. He was no fool. Solo wouldn’t have left the twins in his care unless he planned to try to free them later. He was welcome to try. Vader would take care of him when the time came, but perhaps the knowledge of the familial connection they shared would cause his daughter to think twice before galavanting off with the Rebellion. 

And given Luke’s shattered pelvis, he doubted he’d have cause to worry about Luke getting far if he attempted to escape. Not for a long while, at least. 

He continued. “I saw what was happening with Luke. He...you both are strong in the Force. In his desperation, he connected with me, showed me what was happening. I was able to find the distress call shortly afterwards and came But from what little I saw, there was nothing you could have done against that wave. Neither one of you. Not as you are now.”

She let out a sigh as if regretting what she was about to ask. “As we are now? What does that even mean?” 

“It means that you are both untrained in the Force. Why, I do not know, but as a result you could not have avoided what happened more than you already did. So blaming yourself for your brother’s injuries will do nothing for him or you. Do not dwell on it.” 

He expected her to argue with him. If she was anything like himself, self blame came far too easily. But instead, after a short silence, she finally turned back to face him. “What are your plans for assisting the people affected by the tsunami?” 

He shouldn’t have been surprised, but thinking of others did not come naturally to him. It was only because Leia and Luke were his children that he cared about what happened to them. “I only came to rescue you. Another star destroyer will come--” 

“How can you walk among that destruction and death and not want to help?!” Leia snapped, loudly enough that Vader’s gaze shot to Luke to make sure he hadn’t woken up. 

He hadn’t even stirred. Concerning...but he was still recovering. He was probably too exhausted to care. 

At least, that’s what he told himself. 

“It is below my concern. Others will help--” 

“Those people need help now!” Leia stood abruptly, motioning furiously towards the planet below. “Luke and I--we’re just two people! There’s so many who didn’t make it, more who might not if they don’t get immediate help! Aren’t you supposed to care about the people you rule?!” 

Vader scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I am a Sith. It is not in my nature. Besides, you are well aware of what kind of hospitality I am capable of.”  

He shouldn’t have said that. She flinched, hard enough that she stumbled back a step even as she glared. “You’re disgusting. You don’t deserve Luke.” 

The building rage stilled. He...hadn’t expected that line of reasoning. 

She elaborated. “Luke’s always looked up to Anakin Skywalker--”

The rage was back. He pointed at her. “Anakin Skywalker was weak--” 

“Anakin Skywalker was always loved by his son!” Leia shot back, not caring that she interrupted someone most people wouldn’t ever dream of interrupting. “Luke loved you. And if you think that he’ll wake up and ever dream of accepting someone who saved him but didn’t even glance twice at others suffering, you’re a bigger fool than I took you for!” 

His hands clenched into fists as his eyes drifted back to his sleeping son. He half-hoped she was lying to him. Leia was clearly his daughter, and he could use that to his advantage when turning her to the Dark Side, but as for Luke, she’d just described his mother. And if Luke was as kind and caring for others as his mother was…

The image of her grasping her neck, looking at him with desperate, tear-filled eyes as he strangled her appeared in his mind. 

For some reason, the thought of Luke looking at him with that expression tore at what little was left of his heart. At first he attempted to ignore it, grasping at arguments he could make to prove to his daughter that she was wrong. But there was nothing but truth in her words--the Force sang with it. 

His jaw clenched, and he whirled, storming from the room without another word. Leia didn’t try to stop him, and he was glad for it. He didn’t want to admit that she had a point, that he couldn’t deal with seeing Luke look at him the way his mother had. Even as he stormed for the command center he made justifications in his mind. His fleet was there already--he might as well. And if Luke was to turn to the Dark Side, then perhaps he could win his trust by starting with a gesture he would appreciate. 

And yet even as he entered the command center and gave orders to send additional resources onto the planet and open ship medical facilities (much to the surprise of his crew), he knew the excuses were just that--excuses. 

Should I be concerned about how much influence they already seem to have over me? 

The thought came unbidden and he quickly waved it away. 

There was no influence. He was Darth Vader. He’d made the choice for strategic reasons...and even if his main reason was personal, that didn’t mean anything. 

It didn’t. 

Right? 

Luke was tumbling in darkness. Debris ripped and tore at his clothes and skin. His lungs screamed for air, even though some distant part of his mind knew they were drawing in air. But each breath felt laborious, like something was sitting on his chest, and there was sharp pain with each rise and fall of his chest.

But in that darkness, there was no air. All around him he could feel people dying, feel people in the same situation as him losing their battle--some abruptly as they hit something that instantly snuffed the life out of them, and others drawn out, like him. He didn’t know which was up or down. Muffled screeching and roaring filled his ears. Water shot up his nose, and finally he could take it no longer. 

He drew in an imaginary breath. 

He felt the water filling his airways, his lungs, his body spasming--

Luke. 

That voice. He’d heard it before. But where? 

Luke, you are safe. It is over. 

But it wasn’t. It didn’t feel over, even though part of him knew the cold dark voice was right. He could still feel the ghost of his body tumbling…

I found you. You are safe. You are home. 

Home. 

He...didn’t have a home. At least, not in the traditional sense. The Rebellion had become like a surrogate home, but it was unstable. It could end at any moment. 

His thoughts turned to the people who’d died in the flood waters around him, turned to the buildings that had crumbled before the waves. Those had been people’s homes. People had considered that island, that beach, their home. Just like his home on Tatooine, they were now gone. 

Home, it seemed, could always end at any moment. Security was an illusion. Even if this voice had brought him to a home, it would end, just like on Tatooine, just like for those people left behind in the wake of the tsunami--

I will not let you lose this home. I swear it. 

There was such dark conviction in that voice that he finally opened his eyes. 

And found himself in a place he hadn’t expected. 

The room was large and way too tidy. There was little to no decoration, and the colors were grays, blacks and whites. It was far more dreary than any home he’d ever expected, but the bed he lay in was large and comfortable. In fact, it was far more comfortable than any bed he’d remembered being with the Rebellion. Or maybe he was just so tired and injured, it felt more comfortable than it was. 

He glanced over to his left and found a floor to ceiling port window overlooking a planet that, after a moment of searching his memory, he remembered to be Spira. 

For a moment he could only stare. From above, it looked so peaceful, like nothing bad could ever happen there. It was hard to imagine that at that very moment survivors were attempting to pick the pieces of their lives up. 

“Luke?” 

His head turned, cheek pressing into the fluffy pillow as he found Leia sitting on his other side. 

She looked different and the same. He knew those dark eyes, knew the bags that lined them. She was never a stranger to sleepless night cycles. But he didn’t know the open anguish there. She’d always been so focused on getting Rebellion work done that it was rare to see her crumble with sorrow over what had happened to Alderaan, despite having every right to do so. But now she looked at him like he’d disappear at any moment. Her hand clutched his with an iron grip. She appeared clean, though, and what injuries he could see appeared to be mostly healed. 

But then his gaze trailed down and he caught sight of the Imperial issue clothing--

“What--?” His voice caught and he began to cough, sending spasms of pain through his chest. 

Somehow, he felt that other colder presence zero in on him, as if it could invisibly check to see if he were dying or not, and when he finished coughing he shuddered. 

“It’s...a long story.” Leia said, and there was so much worry in her voice that he immediately wanted to offer her comfort...even if he wasn’t exactly sure why. 

“We found you under a collapsed house. You’d held onto a speeder. I think it saved your life.” 

The memories flooded back, hitting him hard. He remembered being pulled from the water, remembered someone demanding that he breathe as he vomited. 

“No.” His voice was raspy and raw. “Someone--a Imperial saved me.” 

Leia’s expression darkened. He thought she might resent that, considering Imperials were supposed to be the enemy. “He just wanted to save someone--” 

“No, it’s not that.” Leia stopped him. “He’s not the only Imperial to have helped you.”

Luke frowned. Had the Imperial somehow survived and found him? Then recognized and turned him in? But how was Leia here if that was the case? He’d lost her immediately when the wave had hit him…

“Luke...Luke this isn’t...this isn’t easy to tell you…” 

He’d never seen her look so distraught and unsure of herself. She lifted her free hand and rubbed her face, sucking in a few breaths. “I only found you...because Vader found you.” 

Instantly, his entire body went numb, his stomach lurching violently. Again, that cold presence seemed to check him over in alarm, as if it had felt his sudden change of mood and was worried about what it meant. 

“What?” 

Leia looked back up at him. There were tears in her eyes. “I...you and I are twins.” 

More emotions slammed into him. It was such a mood whiplash, he could barely process that this particular news was much happier. 

“What?” 

“And that’s not all.” He almost wanted to tell her to stop talking so he could process, but she was already speaking. “Vader...Vader is our father.” 

It was a good thing he was lying down, because suddenly the world seemed to tilt. 

Suddenly he had a sneaking suspicion that he knew who the dark, cold voice that had reached out and comforted him belonged to. And it didn’t compute with anything he knew about Darth Vader. 

“He said you...he said he’s connected to us through the Force, and that when everything happened you must have instinctively called for him.” 

He didn’t even know how he could have done that. He knew so little about the Force. The only other person he’d ever connected with was Ben, but that was just whenever Ben decided he wanted to tell him something cryptic. 

But whatever he’d done to connect to Vader, that connection was still open, because he could still feel his...feel his worry. For him. 

For his son. 

He wanted to deny it. He should have. Ben had said Vader had betrayed and murdered his father. He’d made Vader out to be the kind of guy who’d kill him if he ever got in his way, not come halfway across the galaxy to dig him out of rubble. 

But Luke couldn’t deny the feelings he was getting from the other end of his connection. He didn’t understand it, but it wasn’t a lie. Vader...Vader was somehow Anakin Skywalker, and he’d...he’d come for him…

And now he and Leia were in his custody. It was difficult enough for him to come to terms with this new information by himself, but with Leia there, Leia who’d been captured and tortured by him--

Stars, Vader had tortured his own daughter. Had held her back while her home and her adoptive parents were destroyed. He couldn’t even imagine what must be happening in Leia’s head, and now she was stuck here because of him. 

“Leia...Leia I’m so sorry--” 

“No.” Leia shook her head furiously, her hand tightening on his. “Don’t you dare. Screw Vader. I don’t care what he does. What’s important...what’s important is that you’re alive and as much as I hate him, I can’t hate that he’s the reason you’re alive. Stars, Luke, I thought you were dead--” 

“I was.” At least, he was pretty sure he’d come close. “That Imperial pulled me from the water...I...I don’t know what happened to him…” He hadn’t even gotten his name to search…

Though the man was Imperial, he felt overwhelming guilt rush over him as he remembered his face. He should have asked for his name. Then he could have searched...but maybe if he described what he’d looked like to Vader, he could…

The rumors of what Vader did to Imperials he didn’t care for surfaced in his mind and he shuddered. Perhaps that was a bad idea. 

I would not punish someone who saved your life. 

Damn. That connection really was open. How did he go about shutting it off? 

I will attempt to look for this man. Do not get your hopes up, but if I do find him alive, I will ensure that he is rewarded. 

Again, Luke wasn’t sure what to make of that. It was totally not how he pictured Vader. It...it was more of how he’d pictured Anakin--

He stopped that train of thought cold when he felt the other end of his connection grow with fury. 

Better to not look a gift bantha in the mouth. 

“I’m sorry I let you go. I...I thought you’d died. Han never gave up, though. We searched everywhere...though it was the wrong side of the island. If Vader hadn’t shown up…” she trailed off. 

Luke almost didn’t want to ask, but… “How bad is it?” 

She didn’t need to ask what he meant. “Bacta healed your lacerations. You have a concussion, broken ribs, and a shattered pelvis. Though you should walk again.” She rushed to add when she saw the look on his face. “You just...won’t be able to do so for a while, and you’ll need physical therapy--” 

“So there’s no escape for a while, huh?” 

Leia’s face tightened. “Even if there was, Vader can apparently track us. We’d...we’d endanger the Rebellion.” 

Luke closed his eyes, panic settling in as he realized just how much his connection with his father had screwed them over. What tentative future he’d had with the Rebellion was crumbling before his very eyes, and he was totally powerless to stop it. Worse, he’d destroyed Leia’s career too, and who knew if he’d ever see Han and Chewie again…

“We’re really screwed this time, aren’t we?” He asked. 

Leia didn’t deny it. “I should be more upset about it than I am.” She admitted, her gaze turning to look at the planet below them. “But right now, I just...I just feel…” she trailed off. 

“Like we cheated death?” Luke asked. 

Leia nodded. “And condemned others to die instead. I know that’s stupid. That’s not anywhere close to the truth. We’re just...really lucky, I guess. But it doesn’t feel that way.” 

He understood exactly what she meant. “If...if you’re my sister, then did you...feel people dying?” 

She looked at him in horror. “Did you?” When he nodded, she shook her head. “Luke, that’s awful, I’m so sorry…” 

“It isn’t--” 

“But it feels like it is!” She held up their entwined hands. “I let you go! Even though I told you to hold on no matter what! I let you go!” 

“You felt that wave, Leia. It’s not anyone’s fault.” 

“Vader said that if we’d known more about the Force we could have--” 

“Who cares what Vader said?” Though even as he said it, he too began to wonder what Vader meant. “That wave cared for nothing and no one. Anyone and anything caught in its path was going to be destroyed. I mean it’s a miracle I’m even here, considering I can barely swim.” He took a pained breath. “It...it was like a battle. Even the most skilled people die. Sometimes you’re lucky, and sometimes you’re not. Those who are left behind have to come to terms with what happened, with who they lost. It’s never easy. It’s awful, and I don’t think we’ll ever heal from it. Not really. That’s what that wave was like. All we can do is move forward.” 

And yet even as he said it, he wasn’t sure he himself fully believed it. Not as the terrible fragmented memories were still fresh in his mind. 

But Leia, ever the pragmatic one, pursed her lips and nodded. “You’re right. Stars, Luke...I’m just glad you’re here with me. I...I don’t want to lose you. Not after...not after everyone else.” 

He understood. Maybe he didn’t know what it was like to lose an entire planet, but he knew what it was like to lose those he cared for. His aunt and uncle...Biggs...his home...Ben…

All he had left was Leia, Han, Chewie…

And now, he supposed Vader. Though he didn’t know what to do with that information just yet. And frankly, he was too tired to even start worrying about it. 

“I’m glad you and Han are okay.” He said. 

She smiled, though it didn’t fully touch her eyes. “Han was really worried about you.” 

His chest warmed. Han played tough, but when it came down to it, there was no one that could stop Han from rescuing those he cared about. He had a feeling Han would figure out how to free them from Vader, even if Luke had to be carried out. 

“And I’m...Leia, I’m really glad you’re my twin. Even if...even if that means Vader is our father.” 

Something dark passed over Leia’s expression, but it was gone before Luke could reply. “To think that I almost lost my brother before I even knew you were my brother…” 

“You didn’t--” 

“I know.” She let out a sharp breath. “I...should let you know. Vader...Vader is helping those affected by the tsunami. For you.” Then before Luke could process that, she quickly added, “But I had to convince him. I doubt it’s out of the goodness of his heart. He probably wants something in return. But I thought...I don’t know. Maybe you’d want to know that.” 

Again, Luke’s emotions twisted. Vader was proving to be...surprising, at the very least. “We’ll deal with it when I’ve gotten more sleep.” 

Leia nodded. Then, her grip tightening on his hand, she whispered, “I promise, Luke...I won’t let you go again.” 

Luke wanted to remind her that she couldn’t be in control of keeping that promise...but instead, he said, “You’ll always have me, Leia. Even if I’m no longer here beside you. I’ll never let you go too.” 

And though he had no idea if that’s how death worked, he was relieved to see her shoulders slump. She gave him a tired smile. “You’re stuck with me, Luke Skywalker.” 

“There’s no one I’d rather be stuck with.” 

Carefully, Leia leaned over and kissed his forehead. He closed his eyes, savoring her touch...and did not open them again. He was still exhausted, after all, and though Leia had told him far more information than he could process, his body won out in the end. 

But before he fully fell asleep, he again felt that cold presence at the edge of his consciousness. And though he had every reason to ignore Vader, to tell him he couldn’t forgive him for what he’d done to Ben and Leia...he remembered the comfort he’d offered. His promises of protection. And, strangely, his willingness to help others...even if it was only to get on their good side, he’d still done it. It was such a weird image, that as Luke drifted into unconsciousness, he thought, Thank you. 

He didn’t call him father. He...didn’t feel like he was ready for that. He didn’t know if he ever would be. But...but he’d helped, regardless of his reasons. 

That had to be a good sign, right? Maybe...maybe Ben was wrong? Maybe there was good in his father…? 

No. He couldn’t think like that. 

But as he drifted away into darkness, the last thing he felt was a surge of overwhelming protectiveness, and that cold voice whispered in his head, 

Anything for you, my son.