Archive of Our Own

Luke's jaw ached from grinding his teeth. His arms ached from being snapped into restraints that rested uncomfortably behind his back. His back ached from being stunned mercilessly, thank you, stormtroopers. And his shoulder ached from the harsh gloved grip that was Admiral Piett, pushing more than guiding him to their ship.

Water squelched noisily from Luke's pudgy boots with each step he took, and his sopping wet hair was irritatingly getting into his eyes. He was soaked from head to toe, dripping with salty sea water.

He could only pray he didn't look as pathetic as he felt.

This planet he had landed on had been one with extravagant, rolling waves, an ocean so beautiful it took his breath away. An ocean that he also did not know how to really operate in because Tatooine wasn't exactly a flood zone.

Maybe Vader knew this and took advantage of it. Luke wasn't sure how he could've known; maybe it was some old fashioned father's intuition. He shook his head irritably.

What had meant to be a quick solo trip on this oceanic planet had somehow turned into an ambush.

All he knew was that he was cold, cuffed, and livid.

Damn Imps. Luke chewed the inside of his cheek bitterly. Damn Father.

"Keep walking," One of the stormtroopers snarled.

"I am," Luke barked back.

In all honesty, he wasn't sure who he was more angry with; his father or himself. Luke's shields were up as they always were, but he could still feel his father's presence coming closer and closer. He wasn't even sure how he knew, he just… felt it. And he hated it.

And while he didn't want to dissect his inner turmoil at that very moment, he couldn't exactly not. This was borderline worst-case scenario. It-

A rush of adrenaline swept over Luke as his foot suddenly slipped on a wet rock, throwing him completely off balance. A wave of panic swallowed him as he instinctively tried to put his arms out to catch himself, before realizing they were cuffed behind his back.

Kriff, he was about to hit the-

A firm hand steadied him.

Luke waited a moment for his heart to stop pounding before turning and glancing at his hero.

"Steady on, Skywalker." Admiral Piett said calmly. But oddly enough, there was no malice in his tone, no taunting gleam in his eye.

Luke nodded hesitantly before moving forward once more. He blew a thankful breath out. What could've been the icing on the cake of humiliation was just stopped by… an Imperial?

"Should've let him fall," One of the stormtroopers growled.

Luke rolled his eyes. That was more like the Imperials he knew. That petty bastard was probably just embarrassed Luke got some good hits on him before he was captured.

"Yeah, let him grovel. He could do with a few more stuns." Said another.

Luke grit his teeth. If they wanted a fight, they'd get a fight.

"We have an objective, gentlemen," Piett smoothly interjected. "Skywalker is to be alive and unharmed. Any further stunning would be a waste of time and completely unnecessary."

Luke once again was… surprised. He could feel their emotions, feel their intents and attitudes. The four stormtroopers surrounding him felt like hungry wolves. Like they had something to prove, a score to settle by capturing and making an example of Luke.

And Luke felt the one thing stopping them from doing so was Admiral Piett. He seemed to be a man intent on just doing his duty as intended. He felt no pleasure injuring Luke; Luke couldn't sense an ounce of sadistic or twisted nature within him.

…So why was he working for his father? How could anyone with even an ounce of sanity look up to Darth Vader? Luke couldn't fathom it.

The two stormtroopers grumbled something petulantly before ushering him around a corner. Their TIE-fighter came in sight.

Luke's face pulled into a scowl as Vader's stifling presence began to practically suffocate him. If he had to face his father, did it really have to be in this state? He felt like an old rag that was ripped from washer, a raggedy sponge that had been dunked and rung for all he was worth. He wished he could at least part some of his stupid, damp hair getting in his eyes.

Piett brought the group to a halt a couple yards from the ship. The grey, foamy seawater hungrily lapped at the sand that surrounded the giant structure his father resided in. Luke began to feel queasy.

"I can hold onto Skywalker while you report to Lord Vader, Admiral." The stormtrooper from before offered.

Luke glared at him. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck with a vengeful enemy who had the upper-hand. And this particular enemy had something off about him; some sort of sadistic hunger. Not exactly unheard of within the enemies he faced, but certainly not anything he wanted to take his chances with. Luke swallowed, but kept his face as fierce as he could muster. Even a few seconds would be too long with this man, he decided.

His stomach hurt. There was no way Piett wouldn't agree; it made sense for the highest ranking officer to be the one going directly to Vader. It was his mission after all, and he had definitely succeeded.

Piett stared at the stormtrooper coolly, wind just barely pushing his hair.

Luke held his breath.

Piett finally spoke. "I don't believe that will be necessary. You may all go and notify Lord Vader that our apprehension of the rebel was successful and prepare the ship accordingly."

Luke could barely swallow back the surprise. Piett had volunteered to practically babysit him? That should be the job of someone ranked much lower. So why-

But the stormtrooper kept going. "Admiral," He said, his voice betraying a hint of impatience. "If I may, I believe I-"

"I can handle Skywalker." Piett cut him of definitively. "Report to Lord Vader that we have secured him and prepare the ship to leave." He repeated with finality.

Immediately the stormtroopers obeyed his command, marching off and ascending up the ramp inside.

Luke could've collapsed with relief. The man was clearly extremely well respected, and he was starting to see why.

He glanced at the Admiral sideways, unsure of whether he should be grateful just yet. Maybe the Admiral had his own twisted motives.

…But no, Luke didn't think that was quite true at all. It still felt unreasonable to think Piett had just protected him, but hadn't he? It wasn't like Luke could really think of any other explanation.

But then again, it might've been a way for the Admiral to keep his catch in pristine condition and not for any moral's sake. Luke pressed his lips into a line, thinking. While he didn't exactly feel safe, far from it actually, he found he was intrigued by the high-ranking officer who stood so assuredly of himself. He didn't seem like the face of evil Luke was so used to encountering.

He seemed different.

He shivered uncomfortably as a gust of wind hit him. Piett remained unaffected, his hand still unmoving from Luke's shoulder.

Luke looked at him once again through a sideways glance, deciding to do what he knew best. Push his luck. "…You don't have to hold me, y'know. It's not like I'm going anywhere." He said, keeping his voice more conversational than particularly rude. 

Piett returned the glance after a moment disbelievingly. "I won't be taking any chances. Especially with your… track record."

Luke grinned slightly. "My legends are being passed down, huh?"

Piett scoffed lightly.

Luke was just happy the man had entertained a small exchange of words. At the very least Piett seemed civil.

But the closer Luke looked, the man seemed… tired. Standing right next to him, Luke finally noticed the deep crease between his eyebrows, the eye-bags pressed into his face, dark and deep. Luke frowned a bit.

He was used to fighting what almost seemed like nobodies. The stormtroopers all wore the same uniform and behaved like a hive mind. He sometimes found it hard to see them as people. He sometimes felt that way about anyone in the Empire.

But right now, Luke didn't see a power hungry, bantha-brained soldier. Instead he saw a weary Admiral. Not weary enough to be considered weak, of course, but weary enough that it would show.

Luke fidgeted with his hands uncomfortably in his cuffs. Glimpses of his father's obsession over him passed through his mind in bits and pieces. Working under someone that operated with such intensity must be absolutely draining, he conceded empathetically.

A strange part of Luke hoped his father wasn't too cruel to Admiral Piett over finding him. While Luke never asked to be sought out by Vader, quite the opposite actually, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt.

That guilt was also strangely accompanied by a bit of curiosity.

"Why'd you stay behind?" He asked suddenly.

Piett's eyes were still on the horizon.

He waited a moment before glancing at Luke. "It's my job."

"…Is it though?" Luke said, raising an eyebrow. "I thought usually the Admiral made reports, not the stormtroopers. Plus, you saved me from falling before."

"It would've wasted time if you had fallen."

Luke turned his head more sharply. "Would it have though? I just- I feel like compared to those guys you kinda- you don't wanna see me get hurt."

Piett looked away again, his gaze lost in the grey distance. He waited a few seconds, the soft ocean waves making up for the silence. "Lord Vader wishes you to be unharmed. I'm simply following orders."

"But are you though?"

"I am."

Luke hummed.

More silence.

Luke furrowed his eyebrows. This was getting him nowhere. "Those guys definitely want to see me hurt." He said quietly, glaring at the ship.

"More then just them, I assure you." Piett told him.

Luke looked back to Piett. "Do you?"

Piett kept his rigid, unmoving posture. "…My only duty is to capture you."

"So you don't wanna hurt me?"

"I don't have an opinion either way." Piett said before pausing. "…I believe it is unnecessary. That is all."

Luke smiled slightly. So he did have a heart. He was honestly just glad he got a single original sentence out of the man besides his nauseating pledge to the Empire. "Not a fan of violence?"

"Not particularly."

Luke sighed. "Yeah. Me neither."

Silence fell between them once more. A bit of frustration began to churn in Luke's stomach. Since when had any member of the Empire been willing to exchange theological small talk? Meeting an enemy more neutral than hellbent on vengeance and violence was certainly a nice change of pace. It was almost laughable in comparison to his father's violent tendencies.

A thought popped in his head. He wondered how Piett worked with his father. His usual impression of the Empire had to do with people of his father's temperament, brewing and boiling in a never-ending rage. It was an interesting concept to entertain; the concept of there being certain parties in charge that were neutral, and maybe even disapproving of such behavior. He glanced at the Admiral who was laser-focused on the TIE-fighter.

He pursed his lips in boredom for a moment before looking back at Piett and biting the bullet. "So… what's it like?"

Piett looked back at him, narrowing his sharp eyebrows. "Pardon?"

"What's it like?" Luke repeated with a slight shrug. "Working with my- with Vader, I mean. He doesn't exactly seem like a ball of sunshine."

Piett stared at him for a moment, no doubt wondering where Luke had gotten the audacity. (His father).

Luke didn't break eye contact, instead raising his eyebrows expectantly.

"Working with Lord Vader," Piett corrected pointedly. "Is a privilege not to be taken lightly. Getting to serve such a dependable Commander is something everyone in our crew, myself included, can take pride in."

Luke tilted his head, slightly disappointed. It was too robotic of an answer. "But like… can't he be… I don't know- kind of an ass sometimes?"

Piett's eyes widened slightly, flitting quickly to the ship and back as if he was afraid Vader would smite him for the sin of even hearing such an insult. "Lord Vader is… I am very lucky to hold the position I do." He settled with after a moment.

"But why do you think so?" Luke pressed earnestly. "How could you possibly be benefiting from having your life on the line if you even say something out of place? I feel like he probably works you to the bone." Another question popped into Luke's mind. "…Do you even know why he's making you hunt me down?"

Piett's eyes sharpened. He ignored the first two questions. "If Lord Vader has decided the motive behind your capture is not something I need to know, then it is my place to respect that. My duty is to act, to capture you, not to know the reasons or rationale."

Luke squinted his eyes. "And you're okay with that?"

"I am." Piett inclined his head. "Do you know why Lord Vader is trying to capture you?"

Luke stared back. He could almost laugh. If only Piett knew. "...If I did, would you be interested?" He tested, raising a goading eyebrow.

Piett stared evenly back, evidently used to these types of temptations from his hostages. "Not at all." 

The two men looked at each other for a moment, before Luke snapped his head towards the ship. Even through his shields, he felt his father's intense hunger grow. Shivers continued to wrack his body, but even so, he began to sweat.

He shifted even more by nature of habit, stretching his hands and wrists again before finding the cuffs seemed… loose?

He blinked, his heart beginning to pound.

That was impossible.

He threw on the best poker face he could and tried to keep his body as still as possible. He tentatively shifted his wrists again, just barely twisting and pulling so Piett wouldn't feel his minuscule movements.

He fought to swallow a shocked noise.

Sure enough, there was something off about them, like they hadn't been fastened tight enough and could break with enough brute force.

A part of him wondered if it even mattered considering Vader was a couple hundred feet away, but did he really have anything to lose by trying?

The more he fidgeted, the more the tiniest drop of the Force came slipping back to him. His heart thrummed and thrummed and thrummed. If he could seriously make his escape before his father decided to take his other hand, Han would have a fit of laughter over the absurdity.

The cuffs moved the smallest bit more. Luke swallowed as discreetly as possible. It seemed… possible. And that was better than his usual odds.

But then he felt it.

Closer.

His father was coming closer, his presence engulfing him like a monstrous storm. It felt like a warning, like someone saw him desperately trying to break free and was whispering to him "bad idea".

Luke glanced at Piett, who seemed completely unaware of the crippling storm his inner turmoil was subjecting him to.

Suddenly, the dreadful whoosh of the ship's door shifted open, and Luke didn't have to look to see who it was.

There stood his father, in all his edgy glory, stomping with the signature clip-clop of his boots down the ramp.

Luke swallowed and braced for… he wasn't even sure. He was 90% confident his father wouldn't maim him any further. He was also 90% confident the man would poke fun of his ridiculous drowned state in the stupid Shakespearian way he spoke.

Vader made it to the sand and marched to where him and Piett stood. Luke stared at his soaked shoes. He couldn't look his father in the eyes.

The loud, repetitive kssh of Vader's respirator soon came into earshot, and he stopped just in front of Luke. Luke stared at his and his father's boots on opposite sides of the sand, his heart desperately trying to thrum it's way free from his chest.

Why was his father just standing there?

He hated it.

He hated how Vader always knew how to take control of any situation, knew how to assert dominance, knew how to make even the strongest soldier wait with baited breath for him to speak.

Water dripped from his hair into his eyes. He was shaking now. He prayed his father would think it was due to the cold.

"Admiral," Vader's deep voice startled Luke as he finally greeted Piett. "I see you've managed to catch the Rebellion's poster boy."

Piett nodded dutifully. "At your request, he is unharmed, Lord Vader."

Vader scanned him from head to toe.

Luke wasn't sure how he knew, but he hated that he was able to tell.

"Take him to the ship. Copilot's seat." Vader nodded to the stormtrooper.

Luke didn't need to look to sense that it was the same bitter stormtrooper before.

So much for Piett's protection, Luke thought miserably as he was handed off to the stormtrooper.

In the blink of an eye he was being practically dragged across the sand and up the ramp. The stormtroopers arms dug into Luke's bicep.

As he was basically shoved inside the ship, the force of it made the cuffs loosen more.

Luke swallowed. His heart began to pound even harder. An idea came to him.

But he had to be out of Vader's sight first.

He bit the inside of his cheek and stayed silent.

For about a minute.

Once they stepped inside the cockpit, he jerked his arm harshly. "Can you stop?" He snapped at the stormtrooper. "You've got me, I'm not going anywhere."

But the man only gripped harder. "Don't act so innocent, Skywalker." He practically spat. "Lord Vader would hate to hear you're being uncooperative." His words dripped with malice.

"I'm not being uncooperative," Luke parroted back as obnoxiously as he could. "If you'd use your tiny brain, you'd see I'm literally where you want me to be. So," Luke yanked his arm again. "Let go of me, Sithspit."

That got him somewhere. The stormtrooper roughly shoved Luke against the wall, both hands pressing him harshly by the shoulders.

The blunt force of it all had loosened the cuffs a smidge more, but his back sharply ached with how hard he had hit the wall. Luke bit his lip in frustration before glaring at the officer.

The stormtrooper loomed over him. "Listen here, you-"

Luke didn't care to listen.

So he kicked the stormtrooper as hard as he could in the shin.

But before the man could fully retaliate, Piett stepped on board.

He looked at the scene and paused. "I believe," He began sharply. "Lord Vader ordered for Skywalker to be in the copilot's seat. Not held against a wall."

The stormtrooper looked over, undoubtedly enraged he had been caught before he could teach Luke a lesson. "…Understood, Admiral." He managed to bite out after a tense moment.

Luke was similarly disappointed. Bless Piett and his kind heart, but Luke kind of needed to be mistreated right now. If he could get pushed just one more time, maybe the cuffs would-

The stormtrooper growled something unintelligible and yanked Luke from where he stood. He walked him over to the seat before shoving Luke as hard as he could into the copilot's seat.

Immediately Luke felt the cuffs almost fully undo themselves. He was positive he could get them free on his own with just a bit more tugging.

"Stay," The stormtrooper hissed at him.

Piett had walked over to where Luke was and shot him what seemed a bit like an apologetic glance.

The Admiral hadn't noticed the cuffs. Luke couldn't believe it, but he felt just a twinge of guilt for what he was about to do.

Piett guided the stormtrooper away from Luke, and the two of them stood behind the seat with their backs turned, discussing something Luke couldn't quite catch.

He couldn't have cared less.

Vader would be coming aboard soon.

He got to work as silently as he could, tugging and twisting his wrists ruthlessly.

C'mon.

The clank of Vader's boots sounded from the ramp.

C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!

The footsteps were getting closer and closer.

Luke tugged and tugged and tugged and-

He couldn't move.

His eyes flew wide in a panic. He could only just barely breathe, but he felt frozen, like someone shot him with a dart and tranquilized him. Like someone was squeezing the life out of him until he'd pop.

The haunting sounds of his father's respirator echoed behind him.

Kriff.

Vader stepped around the seat to face Luke. Oh, he was mad.

Luke would've swallowed if he could, because why was he so damn tall. And why did he not win that particular trait in the genetic pool?

Vader leaned Luke forward and inspected the cuffs loosely dangling around his wrists. They shattered in an instant. "Foolish child." He snapped irritably, more to himself than Luke.

"Piett!" His father barked. "New cuffs, now."

Luke felt Piett's emotions startle, before he ran to Vader, immediately handing him a new pair of restraints.

Luke groaned internally. He had been so close.

Vader grabbed Luke's arms and positioned his hands so they were in front of him this time and snapped the cuffs into place. He finally felt the pressure release, and he could move freely again. Not that there was any point now.

At least it was more comfortable than behind his back, Luke conceded miserably, mentally preparing himself for whatever lecture or even punishment his father had in store.

But after a few moments of bracing himself, nothing had been said. Vader's respirator cycled a few times before Luke looked up and realized his father wasn't staring at him, but Piett.

Luke furrowed his eyebrows.

"And just how did this happen," Vader asked darkly, inclining his head. "Admiral?"

Luke's heart rate began to pick up. But this time he wasn't scared for his own safety.

…Was Vader going to kill Piett? For something Luke had done? Something the stormtrooper had instigated? No. He couldn't let that happen; he couldn't just watch someone, even an enemy, have their life taken because of him.

"My Lord-" Piett began.

"Lord Vader," Luke interjected as sternly as he could.

"Quiet," Vader ordered, not even sparing a glance at Luke.

Luke huffed at the dismissal and tried again. "Please, Lord-"

Vader whipped his head towards Luke. "I said quiet. Piett. Explain."

Luke could've screamed in frustration. What would Piett even have to say? The truth was he really hadn't noticed Luke get free from his cuffs. Luke was technically the Admiral's responsibility, but he couldn't help feeling this was all a bit unfair to the man. Fairness, however, was not a concept his father cared to contemplate, and the unfortunate truth of the matter was that Luke had almost escaped.

There was no way his father would let that fly.

He picked at his nails, conflicted, before taking a breath and opening his shields.

Father, please. He urged across their bond.

Vader stiffened.

Just barely, but Luke noticed.

As Piett opened his mouth to speak once more, Vader lifted a hand to silence him. "Leave us. We will discuss after I deal with Skywalker."

Luke blew a small sigh of relief before realizing he had just gone from one issue to the next. Piett was safe for now, but a one-on-one talk with Darth Vader wasn't exactly a cause for relief.

The door shut after Piett hurried out.

Only the soft whirs of the shuttle's engine filled the silence. Luke could feel his father's gaze on him.

Vader let out something akin to a sigh, the vocoder rendering it as a strange, harsh sound. He stomped further away from Luke. Luke made no effort to see what his father was up to. A sudden exhaustion began to wash over him. The combination of nearly drowning and being captured was starting to get to him. He shook himself a bit as more cold seeped into his bones.

But he still wanted to talk to his father. And he was not like the others. He was not afraid.

He would not wait for Vader to speak first.

"Father-" He began, before rough hands practically toppled him over in his seat, harshly drying his head with what felt like an oversized towel. "Ack- Father!" Luke spluttered. It was incredibly disorienting; the towel covered his vision and he felt more like his father was trying to sand him down than simply dry his hair.

"Quiet," Vader ordered him for probably the millionth time that day. "There are consequences for your incessant recklessness."

Luke let out another indignant noise before finally being let go, heat coming to his cheeks. He used his restrained hands to flip the towel from his eyes and let it drape over his shoulders. He wrapped it around himself as best he could, reluctantly grateful for the extra layer.

"Foolish," Luke repeated angrily, ignoring the oddly domestic gesture. He glared at his father. "And you think waltzing right into my captor's arms would've been wise?"

Vader crossed his arms, looming over him. "You only served to injure yourself trying to fight the inevitable. Sometimes knowing when you've lost is half the battle."

Luke scoffed. "Oh, please-"

"And your second attempt was even more foolish than the first," Vader continued to lecture angrily.

Luke rolled his eyes. "It was worth a shot. I knew you wouldn't kill me for trying."

Vader stared at him for a moment. "You seem confident in that."

Luke raised his chin defiantly. "I am."

Vader stared at his son. He had a hard time taking him seriously, even though he knew Luke wanted him to so, so badly.

But unfortunately for him, being soaking wet and wrapped with a towel practically swallowing him whole, he looked quite pathetic. Some might even call the sight endearing.

It was no matter. Luke's eyes burned with such fierce intensity, he found it difficult to look away. But he didn't have the luxury of basking in his child's presence, to mentally trace his features one by one.

Because in reality, they were enemies on the opposite sides of war.

And Luke did not see him as a father, but as a captor. Vader couldn't exactly blame him, but he could wish for it to be different. The boy was confident he wouldn't come to any harm, which was more than he could ask for, he supposed. But he had tried to escape; somehow, the faulty of his restraints went unnoticed by Piett. It was unacceptable. And Luke had interrupted him.

He squinted his eyes. He could feel his son's scrambled, confused thoughts thrumming across their bond. So emotional. Vader hated that he couldn't find it in himself to fully dislike that side of the boy.

"You interrupted me," Vader said slowly. "It must be deathly important."

Luke's gaze flitted to the wall and back again. His sharp eyebrows stayed narrowed as he spoke. "It wasn't that guy's fault."

"That guy?" Vader repeated impatiently.

"Admiral Piett, I think," Luke corrected himself. "It wasn't his fault. Me trying to escape, I mean."

…Absolutely none of that made sense. And it irritated Vader. What exactly was Luke trying to say?

Luke must've sensed his father's confusion and took the chance to continue. "Just- don't do anything crazy because of me, okay? I'm definitely not going with you willingly, but if you kill him or anyone else here I'm gonna make sure to be as difficult as possible. And you know I can."

Vader's eyes squinted in confusion. "…Are you suggesting I spare my men?"

"Yes." Luke said earnestly.

Bewilderment took center stage. Vader himself was never one to be concerned in the slightest with his soldiers' health, and especially not now. Luke had almost gotten away; they had not been efficient. As angry as he was, he might've gotten rid of a few stormtroopers, but Piett wasn't someone who was going to be killed. Not today, anyway.

But either way… why would Luke care?

Vader hesitantly probed across their bond and found nothing but honesty. The boy was being genuine.

He grit his teeth.

He could only pray it wasn't for some superficial sense of mercy.

"And what motive could you possibly have for a request such as that?" He asked. "Are you implying you care for my crew's well-being?"

Luke clenched his jaw, fidgeting with his hands.

It seemed he didn't know either.

"It- you- kind of?" He settled with. "I'd just hate for them to die because of a stunt I pulled. And Admiral Piett-"

"The stunt you were only able to pull due to their incompetence." Vader raised his voice slightly.

"But- c'mon, they caught me in the first place! I think that counts for something-"

"Are you complimenting them?" Vader barked, exasperated. His son's altruism was going to get him killed.

"No! A little? I don't know!" Luke said back, equally frustrated. The audacity, considering he was the one that started this theological debate. "Just because I don't like them doesn't mean I want you to murder them!"

"They are your enemies!" Vader snapped. "You should want that! Showing mercy to an enemy is the quickest path to death-"

"And the quickest path for a guilty conscious that would keep me up at night," Luke retorted.

"There's nothing to feel guilty about!" Vader hissed. "You should-"

"Yes, there is!" Luke shot back. "I hate your stormtroopers, but they're still humans! More human than you, anyway-"

"Do not interrupt me!"

"They have families! Lives! Do you seriously think so little of them-"

"They know the risks, they willingly put their lives on the line-"

"Lives on the line for the dangers of war, not the dangers of your stupid temper!"

"Enough!" Vader snapped. He wasn't originally going to go on a rampage, but Luke seemed determined to aggravate him to do just that.

Luke glared up at him. "I think you're better than that." He said.

Vader ached with how much his son believed his words. He stared angrily down at him.

If only his son knew how bleak killing stormtroopers would look in comparison to the sins he had committed.

"I'm not." He growled.

Luke's face tightened, seemingly trying to think of what to say. He looked to the side and back at Vader with those big, soft eyes. The red lenses made it hard to tell through the mask, but he knew they were blue.

Vader stared for a moment.

Even through his frustration, he couldn't deny what he felt; he loved Luke's eyes. He didn't like it when they glared at him. It felt unnatural to see such a hateful expression on such a kind face.

Luke finally settled on what he was trying to say. "…Admiral Piett was good to me."

Vader's respirator cycled three times before he replied.

"What exactly do you mean by that, my son?"

"I mean," Luke began, his voice much quieter than before. Vader found he loved how it sounded when the boy's voice wasn't strained with anger. "He did his job- I know the whole cuff malfunction thingy-" Luke acknowledged before Vader could interject. "-but besides that, I don't know, he just… I don't think he wanted to hurt me. He doesn't seem malicious. I feel like we might even get along if he didn't, y'know. Kidnap me."

Vader took in his words slowly. Admiral Piett was admittedly one of the most competent soldiers under his rank; he knew if the man were to be killed today there would be many more downsides than ups of his absence.

"Admiral Piett was good to you," He repeated, more to himself than Luke.

Luke nodded, his dripping hair getting into his eyes. "He was."

Vader supposed he could appreciate Piett's way of handling his son with respect. That's the way all his men should be treating Luke. "And the others?"

Luke paused.

Vader caught it immediately.

"They- they were fine, but-"

"You are lying."

Luke narrowed his eyes.

But the Force didn't suppress the truth.

Vader stepped closer, towering over his son. Exactly how did the cuffs manage to become loose in the first place? "And the others?" He repeated, giving Luke a chance to tell the truth this time.

Luke pressed his lips into a firm line, a deep crease forming between his eyebrows. "They were fine."

Fine. What a juvenile word. "Luke, do not-"

"I didn't say great!" Luke defended himself. "They were fine. They treated me like a prisoner, duty as usual. I didn't exactly expect them to roll out the red carpet for me."

But Vader felt Luke wasn't being fully truthful. He was still an amateur when it came to properly shielding. That of course shouldn't be the case, Luke should be proficient had he had actual competent teachers. But Vader supposed it did work in his favor at times. Like now.

"And how do you define being treated like a prisoner?" He asked sharply.

"Father, please," Luke huffed in exasperation. "It was nothing, he just-"

"Who?"

"I don't know!" Luke snapped. "They all look the same!"

"Well what did he do to you?"

"I- nothing!"

"If you lie one more time-"

"I don't want you to kill him!" Luke shouted angrily.

Vader grit his teeth and pointed a finger at his son. "I will do what I must to ensure-"

"There is no must! That's the stupidest thing ever! And I'm not gonna tell you shit if you're just gonna murder him!"

"His actions are his responsibility!"

"We all make mistakes! Maybe he just had a… a bad day…" Luke finished lamely, averting his gaze as the sentence trailed off awkwardly.

Vader stared at him in disbelief before letting out a harsh hiss of exasperation, immediately beginning to pace out of habit.

He loved his son, unimaginably so, but Force he could be so irritating.

A bad day?

That was maybe the millionth foolish thing Luke had said in the span of five minutes. The absurdity of it could bring Vader to tears.

So young, so naive-

"…Please don't kill Piett." Luke said flatly, interrupting his thoughts.

"I am not going to kill Piett!" Vader snapped, stopping to turn at him.

"Well, I don't know!" Luke shot back, exasperated. "You're kind of giving me mixed signals here!"

With all Vader's wisdom, all his experience, he couldn't fathom Luke's sense of mercy. An old wound in his mind flared as he stared into his son's earnest eyes.

That relentless empathy, that steadfast resolve. Those traits were no doubt from his mother. Her unwavering spirit, always fighting for the people. His irritation grew. Admiral Piett wasn't even Luke's people. Quite the opposite, in fact. But then again, so was Vader.

"Admiral Piett is a useful asset," Vader said lowly. "I will not kill him today."

"Today," Luke scoffed, his eyes glaring through his damp bangs getting in the way. But the ferocity the boy was trying to get across became dulled somehow. He seemed to be growing weary of their back and forth. "Is that the standard? Usefulness? If my abilities were to somehow disappear, would you just slaughter me like I was another stormtrooper?"

Something sharp cut through Vader's chest. "Of course not!" He said angrily, immediately. How could such an absurd thing even be spoken?

"Then- you- ugh," Luke closed his eyes for a moment and sat back. "I don't understand you sometimes, Father." He said quietly, shaking his head slightly.

Vader took a step towards him. "I could say the same." He agreed.

Luke let out another sigh before peeking an eye open at Vader. Vader stood expectantly, still not willing to let the topic of whoever had mistreated him go. He knew Luke could tell. A bit of satisfaction ran through him. This was how it should be; father and son sharing a bond no one else could.

Luke tiredly sat up a bit. "It was nothing crazy."

"And you will tell me nonetheless."

"And you won't murder him," Luke narrowed his eyebrows defiantly.

A vein threatened to pop. But Vader let out a huff of agreement.

Luke gave a satisfied nod. "When your guys were chasing me 'n stuff, I got a couple good hits on one of them. I think he held a grudge. He kinda threw me up on a wall- just handled me a bit roughly is all. But I kicked him back. Plus I kind of instigated part of it, so." He shrugged.

Vader did not share his son's nonchalance. Rage took a hold of him.

Luke visibly shifted, uncomfortably aware of the strong change in his father. The Dark Side was something able to throw regular people off guard, let alone individuals who were Force-sensitive.

His decision was instantaneous. This particular solider deserved death. Vader would be able to snap his neck in the blink of an eye for his son's sake. It would be deserved, and Vader wouldn't feel a drop of guilt when the scum's body hit the floor. 

A glimpse of Luke's eyes caught his attention.

His son sat there, so small, but so brave, looking up at him.

The Dark Side became difficult to maintain.

Those eyes. They were Anakin's, but they shone with Padme's compassion. Shone with the same desperation, the same wretched plea. For a moment, it threatened to fill him with anger. But oddly enough, it did not. Vader was surprised to find himself reluctantly anchored by such a sight.

Seeing his child so bravely fighting to stay in the light, he wasn't so sure he could snap another neck without seeing Luke's face flash before him.

His anger stormed for a moment longer before he eventually let out a sigh, the Dark Side hissing miserably as it dissipated.

He scanned Luke, double checking that he was being truthful about being unharmed.

"Any injuries?" Vader finally spoke roughly, wanting to hear it from Luke himself.

Luke shook his head. "Nope. Besides being soaked from head to toe, I'm in perfect working condition."

Vader hummed before stepping closer.

Luke looked tiredly up at him. He wasn't built the way Anakin had been; he had a similar face, of course the eyes, and the hair especially. But he definitely didn't tower over others as his father did. It seemed he had his mother's heart and height.

At times, Vader found it hard to fathom this young man was his child. He sighed a bit, before reaching out and gently brushing some of the damp hair out of Luke's eyes. Luke made no move to stop him.

"I can do that myself, y'know," He muttered tiredly.

"I'm aware," Vader said evenly. "You wouldn't be in this pitiful state if you hadn't decided to go for a swim."

Luke scoffed before letting out a yawn.

Vader mindlessly carded his fingers through his son's hair once more before gently grasping Luke's chin and tilting it upwards so they were looking at each other.

"You must be tired," Vader said softly. He wasn't sure if he imagined Luke ever so slightly leaning into the touch.

Luke let out a light sigh, raising his eyebrows flatly. "What gave you that impression?"

Vader got lost in the pureness of his child's face, his thumb lightly stroking his cheek before gently guiding him to lean back. "You should rest."

Luke looked back at Vader. The boy obviously had no desire to give up his fight and surrender to sleep, but he didn't really have a choice anymore. In his current state he would be no match for anyone, let alone Vader.

So after a moment, he reluctantly gave in and shifted a bit to get more comfortable, his head drooping to settle on his left shoulder. Vader clicked his tongue. That position would guarantee a nasty crick in the neck when his son woke up.

"Keep your neck straight, Luke."

Luke glared up at him petulantly through half-lidded eyes.

Vader stared back, his arms crossed.

Luke let out a disgruntled huff and situated himself so his neck rested back and not on either shoulder. After a moment of staring at the ceiling, he closed his eyes.

Vader looked over him, satisfied his son was finally in his grasp, safe and resting.

Luke peeked an irritated eye open. "…I don't need to be watched while I sleep, Father."

"You've had quite the history of causing trouble the moment you're out of sight."

Luke shot him an unamused look before lazily gesturing at himself as best he could with his restraints. "I'm not exactly headed anywhere anytime soon."

"A lie you've told before."

Luke groaned, leaning his head back in childish frustration. Vader watched in slight amusement.

"Father, please. Don't hover. Just- fly the ship or whatever. Seriously, I'm not going anywhere." Luke looked at him before adding sourly, "And your respirator isn't exactly the kind of white noise I'd like fall asleep to."

The audacity. No one in the galaxy could ever dare to sass him the way his son so frequently did. He supposed this was what he got for just narrowly missing Luke's teenage years, unable to fathom what sort of nonsensical attitude he would've had to deal with then. He should feel disrespected or offended... but he couldn't bring himself to feel anything other than fondness over this foul-mouthed child.

Vader looked at him a moment longer before inclining his head in agreement and stepping away to start up the ship. "As you wish. Rest well, my son."

Luke hummed groggily in reply before settling more into his chair.

It took mere minutes for him to fall asleep. Vader felt his son's consciousness slip under, finally at peace. He watched his son a bit longer, trying to memorize the slope of Luke's nose and the beauty marks glittered across his face.

A strange feeling nagged at the edge of Vader's mind. It was a different kind of anger, one that wasn't solely rage but tainted with something deeper. Something akin to paranoia, to fear. Luke let out soft breaths as he slept, his head lolling further and further to the side. Vader watched him carefully, almost as if he breathed too hard the boy would disappear.

He had been so close to losing this.

Piett would have to be dealt with.

After a long moment, he walked as quietly as he could to where the Admiral resided in the other part of the ship.

The door slid open.

Piett startled slightly, but stood at attention regardless.

Vader glared down at him. This man had made a mistake. A mistake that could've cost him Luke's capture.

Piett stood practically trembling with fear. The man was admittedly fantastic at masking his emotions and being professional, but Vader could sense the turmoil within.

The man expected death.

Vader stared at him a moment longer before speaking. "Admiral."

Piett swallowed visibly. "Lord Vader."

"The restraints on Skywalker were faulty." He got straight to the point.

Piett paused, the gears in his head desperately trying to come up with what to say. "I deeply apologize, My Lord. Skywalker was my responsibility, this should not have happened."

"No, it shouldn't," Vader agreed darkly.

Piett seemingly braced himself for the worst.

"And you will see to it that it never happens again."

Piett stared.

"Do I make myself clear, Admiral?"

Immediately the man nodded. "Per-perfectly clear, My Lord."

Piett still stared. Stared as if that couldn't possibly be it. Vader sensed the man's emotions screaming at him that this was all a trick, that it was too good to be true. Because who was Lord Vader if not merciless? If only the Admiral knew they were both surprised by his actions.

Vader looked at the man a moment longer before his eyes swept over the stormtroopers. They had all gone perfectly still in case they were to be addressed.

Luke's reluctance to share how he had been treated bubbled on the surface of Vader's mind. His rage began churning and foaming all over again. How dare they harm him? How dare they even think of harming him?

He could wipe out all of them and have newer, better soldiers in the snap of a finger. In the snap of a few necks, really.

The Dark Side swirled through him, hissing with temptation, enticing Vader to do what he knew to be right. To give them what they deserved.

But before he could even begin to lift his hand, those eyes flashed in his mind. Those bright blue eyes with such pureness. Such kindness.

Vader's chest ached. Because if he did what he was so tempted to do, those eyes wouldn't shed a tear over how those men had mistreated him, but instead how his father had judged them.

His respirator cycled.

A decision made itself clear.

There was a difference between what he was used to doing and what he actually wanted. And he didn't want to see his son suffer anymore.

Bespin had been more than enough.

Vader sighed, it sounding rough through his vocoder. He would sort these men out later. Right now, all he wanted was to make sure his son was sleeping soundly.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and marched back to the cockpit.

Making sure the door opened with only a minimal hiss, he slowly stepped back towards the controls, realizing he was unsure if the boy was a light or heavy sleeper. He was relieved to find Luke still fast asleep, his neck now awkwardly leaning far onto his shoulder.

It was almost amusing. Vader took in his son's condition; this was the great Commander that took down the Death Star. He was barely a boy. In the back of his mind he wondered if this was how he had looked to Obi-Won.

As gently as possible, he leaned over and delicately lifted Luke's head so it was off his shoulders. He stared for a moment, absentmindedly brushing a strand of hair out of his son's eyes even though it didn't matter considering he was fast asleep. He definitely needed a haircut.

But no matter, because now they had all the time in the world.

Vader let his eyes linger on Luke a bit longer before starting up the ship, satisfied his child was safe and sound resting right behind him.

Vader slammed his fist against the hollow wall of the ship.

He could hardly breathe, the rage and hurt taking up his lungs. The respirator was working much harder than usual to keep his breaths leveled.

Luke had escaped. Again.

His prosthetics creaked and strained as he clenched his fists. He had been so close to keeping him in his grasp. Luke had been right there, close enough to look Vader in the eyes and call him Father.

He stood in the cockpit unable to pull himself from this wretched state.

Until a small piece of paper caught his eye.

A note, more specifically.

He slowly moved to pick it up. As it came into the dim light, the message read:

Father,

I escaped again. Sorry. Actually, no I'm not really sorry, that's what you get for kidnapping your son.

I'm definitely gonna hide for a while, but I'm pretty confident this won't be the last time we'll see each other WHICH MEANS you are still NOT ALLOWED to kill anyone involved.

This was not Admiral Piett's fault, do NOT kill him. He was nice to me and he said nice stuff about you (don't tell him I told you that, we'll both be embarrassed). Plus he probably has a wife and kids waiting for him. And if he doesn't then he deserves to. No one on your side was at fault for my escape, so if you hurt any of them because of me I swear I will never call you Father again. I might even call you Anakin (which IS your name) just to piss you off.

I'm still never turning to the Dark Side, and I hope you will understand that so we can come to some sort of agreement.

Thank you for the towel, it's very soft.

Until we meet again,

Luke :)

Vader clenched his left fist, his other hand holding the note as carefully as he could. He wouldn't dare crumple such a precious thing. A sigh left his mouth, anger and fondness at war with each other. His foolish, foolish son. The ridiculousness of it all could send him on another rampage.

But just the thought of killing another sent a vivid image of his son, clear as day, just looking up at him. Force, those eyes. Those trusting, kind, pure eyes. They would be the death of Vader.

He stood contemplating for a moment before delicately placing the note away in his belt. His crew would be spared for now, little did they know thanks to the very enemy they sought to destroy. Besides, he could always kill another day.

...But that would only be possible if he could erase his beautiful child's face from his mind, and he wasn't so sure that day would come anytime soon.

He wasn't sure if he wanted it to either. Because if Luke truly meant what he said, then Vader would have to concede.

And if Palpatine ever learned of this incident, he would undoubtedly call Vader weak, call him a fool for bending to love's childish pull. Vader found he couldn't care less. He would do anything if it meant his son never ceased calling him "Father".