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It was an itch, as real and persistent as the prickle beneath Vader’s synth-skin grafts; just like that discomfort, it was a thought that never went away. He could train his Inquisitors, hunt traitors, carry out missions—but in the back of his mind, always...
Kenobi.
So it had been for the last ten years. The thought was always there because, he knew, so was Obi-Wan. After all, if he hadn’t been able to defeat the man, who else would be able to? It would be him that did it, personally, he’d just needed to find the other man.
Death wasn’t enough—a simple passing into the Force? Not after everything that had passed between them. No, he needed to destroy Obi-Wan, utterly. Slowly, if possible, though if he were being honest with himself it was doubtful he’d have the patience. But how, exactly, to do it?
No one knew better than Vader just how resilient Obi-Wan Kenobi was. He’d lost his Master, then the great love of his life. His Order, and his home—all of them not just lost but taken, suddenly and violently. And yet still he went on, somehow stronger each time. Over the years Vader had devoted so much time to the question: what could obliterate Obi-Wan’s golden heart? And now standing opposite the man in the dust of a barren moon, after ten years, he finally had his answer.
It was him.
Just him, as he was.
A strike from Obi-Wan’s ‘saber had sliced through Vader’s mask, his reaction to what lay beneath immediate. “Anakin...”
It was there in the way his voice cracked on Vader’s old name, the way he fell back a step when he said it—his heart was breaking. Vader could feel it in the Force, could practically hear the shattering of it.
Even now Obi-Wan had been clinging to some old hope, that there was still a piece of that foolish boy inside of Vader. That the old master could pry that shard out of this pitch-dark shell if only he was given the chance. But actually seeing the reality of the mess that he’d made of his former apprentice was weakening the idea—and with it, himself.
Vader drew himself up despite his damaged armor, let his breath rattle harder through the respirator than he needed to. This…even more than the fire he’d dragged the other man through not long ago, this was what he’d wanted.
He met and held Obi-Wan’s gaze with his exposed golden eye. “Anakin is gone.” Laid to rest as Jedi were meant to be, burned away in the pyre of Mustafar. “I am what remains.”
Tears welled in Obi-Wan’s eyes, set aglow with the blue of his lightsaber. Despair flooded into the Force, flowing out from the formerly unbreakable Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Perfect.