Chapter Text
Luke stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling viewport that spanned the entire wall of the living room. His private quarters on the Executor branched off down one hallway; his father’s office and hyperbaric chamber down the other. Aside from the occasional interruption from Darth Vader’s personal aides—namely Admiral Piett, a few droids, and medical staff—Luke had limited social interaction with anyone who wasn’t his father.
He was beginning to resent it.
The lack of community was wearing on him. His father rarely left him alone, aside from the high-priority meetings requiring his presence, such as his dealings with the emperor. Normally, Vader was only a comm call away, and his stormy Force signature was a constant companion in Luke’s mind.
Luke sighed deeply, his breath fogging up the transparisteel. He missed the rebellion and his friends terribly. Luke didn’t know when he’d get to see Leia, Chewie, and the Rogues again, and it made his heart ache with longing.
But it was for the best, Vader often reminded him. With Han still frozen in carbonite and Luke presumed missing or dead, it appeared the rebellion was losing its fight against the empire. And with the emperor blindsided, he and his father could commit to their plan of bringing order to the galaxy and eradicating tyranny.
And Vader needed him, in a strange and possessive way that Luke didn’t mind too much. But his father wouldn’t even let him contact Alliance High Command to let them know he was safe, and though he understood the reasons why, Luke’s homesickness grew a little more each day.
The sound of the respirator pulled Luke from his somber thoughts, and he whirled around to find his father studying him closely from across the room. He plastered a smile on his face, hoping his despondent feelings hadn’t inadvertently tumbled into their Force bond.
“Hi, father. How did your meeting go?”
The meeting—a closed-door planning session involving the members of Death Squadron—had extended well into the evening. Usually at this hour, he and Vader would be seated at the dining table, conversing over the day’s events with a five-course meal that only Luke ate. But his father didn’t even bother with pleasantries this time.
“Son, what is on your mind?”
Luke’s shoulders slumped. “Nothing. I was just thinking about…”
“Your thoughts are broadcasting through my entire ship, young one.” Vader stepped closer until he towered over Luke. “These arrangements are only temporary.”
“I know, father,” Luke said, trying to inject some optimism into his tone but falling flat. “It’s just…I miss them.”
The temperature dropped, and Luke shivered involuntarily. His father’s Force presence turned icy, though a surging anger churned violently below the frosty surface.
“I’m not saying I don’t want to stay with you!” Luke said, grabbing his father’s biceps so he didn’t interpret his words as a rejection. The last thing Luke needed was for Vader to flee into his rooms and lock him out. “Can’t I just contact them? They’re worried about me. I want to let them know I’m safe!”
“Safe?”
That one word thundered in the room as his father’s anger finally crested. Luke continued to grip him tightly, unwilling to let go. They were in this together now, no matter what, and Vader clearly needed the reminder before he did or said something he couldn’t take back.
“All I have wanted is to keep you safe! All of this—everything I have done in the last two years—has been for you. Your friends will not protect you from the emperor, Luke. And yet, you seek their assurances, their approval! Do you choose them over your own father?”
Vader abruptly spun around, nearly knocking Luke over, and charged towards his personal quarters.
Luke followed behind with tears stinging his eyes. He blindly reached for his father’s cape, but the Force held him back.
“Wait! Please father, stop!”
The obsidian door leading to his father’s quarters slammed shut, and Luke’s fists pounded on the thick metal until they ached. He tugged on their Force bond with all his might, but his father’s only response was to raise his mental shields until they were impenetrable.
They had never fought like this before. And perhaps Luke could’ve been more sensitive to his father’s already turbulent moods; even so, he hadn’t expected a reaction of this magnitude.
Luke’s loneliness felt overwhelming, and the pain of his father’s cold abandonment broke his heart. He slid to the floor and wrapped his arms around his knees. Tears fell freely down his cheeks and over the column of his throat, and he hastily smeared them away with his sleeve.
“Father,” he whispered aloud and through their bond, as reverent as a prayer, hoping Vader heard him. Luke sniffled, and the weight of isolation pressed down on him like never before.