Archive of Our Own

Luke could hardly breathe.

He couldn't remember the last time he had run so fast, the last time he had fled with this much panic pumping through his lungs and veins. The sound of his own ragged, shallow breaths roared in his ears and burned his chest. His heart thrummed loudly against his heaving ribcage.

But not loud enough to drown out the mechanical breathing following right behind him.

The worst part was his father wasn't even directly behind him; just somewhere closing in on him. With all the fog around, it was impossible to see the man at all, and Vader unfortunately had enough sense to shut off his light saber, so even when Luke dared to spare a few glances over his shoulder, there were absolutely no give aways to where his father might be. He could be in front of Luke for all he knew.

He shuddered. Add that to the list of things to be paranoid about.

The worst part was he had no idea where the hell he was even going. He could trip right into the mouth of some other-worldly creature that would swallow him whole, fall into a flammable plant and be set ablaze, or just run straight off a cliff into an ocean of acid.

On familiar ground he doubted he was a match for his father, let alone on some desolate planet he had no sense of direction on, and he wasn't sure his father even needed a sense of direction to find Luke. As much as he tried to shield himself, to dim his presence from Vader, he seemed to stick out like a sore thumb no matter how many planets he hopped.

His father had chastised him the few other interactions they had had over how incompetent his previous teachers had been and blah blah blah. Usually none of Vader's criticism's actually stuck, especially because they were so tainted with his bias against anyone who was a Jedi, or just anyone who wasn't Luke.

It wasn't a surprise to Luke to hear that he was lacking in many ways. In his fighting, in the "foundational forms", in the basics of lightsaber combat. He knew this. He certainly wasn't bad, but he also wasn't exactly overthrow-Palpatine material. Vader had pointed this out as if Luke didn't know, granted with more of an air of constructive criticism than for just the sake of being mean, but Luke was well aware the two of them were an uneven match from the start. None of it particularly interested him, especially when his father's insightful remedy was to give himself to the Dark Side.

What did pique his interest, however, was how lacking he was in the Force.

How he needed to shield his presence. Because someone's presence was something that apparently could be perceived.

How he needed to put these vague mental walls up because his father could speak into his mind.

Ben had definitely never told him about that little party trick. Luke wondered if his old master had even known such a thing was possible, or if his father wanted to speak to him so badly he simply willed it into existence.

Sweat dripped into his eyes.

He couldn't find his frickin ship.

He couldn't find his frickin lightsaber.

He couldn't even find Arfrickintoo.

The hopelessness of his inevitable doom pressed closer and closer in on his mind. There had to be a way out. There had to be. He just had to find it.

Luke's legs burned as if lava were spewing from them. Everything hurt. He wasn't sure how much longer he could go on, how much longer his body would give him until it inevitably gave out. He feared his father could play this sick game for eternity.

As if granting him an answer, the ground suddenly disappeared beneath him.

Luke's eyes flew wide open, a momentary undignified yelp escaping his lips.

But what he thought might be a fall to his death only lasted maybe half a second until he landed. After a moment of shock he let out a sigh, grateful his father wasn't going to find him as a splat on the ground.

Relief washed over him.

And was ripped away just as quickly.

Because right as he lifted his leg, he found he couldn't. There was resistance.

Luke furrowed his eyebrows and immediately looked to his feet.

He scrunched his face even more. A pit hollowed out in his stomach as he realized; his feet weren't standing.

They were sinking.

"Oh- Kriff!" Luke immediately cursed in shock at the wallowing quicksand underneath him. Of course of all times to find himself in this cursed stuff it had to be when he needed to be running for his life.

He stared absolutely bewildered like a deer in the headlights for only a moment longer before taking a quick breath. He had done Yoda's Jedi training. Most of it. Some of it. He could stay calm. He could access his inner peace or whatever.

No need to panic.

He tried tugging his right foot loose.

Nothing.

Okay, no need to panic.

Another harsher tug. Another and another and another and another and another and another and another.

And all he felt was the same haunting resistance.

Luke stared.

Don't panic.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

Not panic.

…And what good would that do him? To stay relaxed and at ease until he was eventually swallowed whole and drowned. Drowned? Suffocated? He didn't know and he didn't care to find out.

The thought of staying calm seemed more like a hysterical joke.

He began tugging harder, more desperately, again and again and again and again.

Luke could hear his breathing growing louder, growing thicker and heavier. But all he was doing was sinking faster.

"Kriff, kriff, kriff," Luke muttered, his throat feeling tight with horror as his ankles slowly disappeared under the hungry sand. He spared a quick, paranoid glance behind him. Vader was still after him; he had to move before the quicksand or his father got him, and fast.

He hurriedly bent down, grabbing at his scuffed boots, trying to pry them or maybe even will them from the sand.

"Kriff, kriff, kriff, kriff!"

The whole "Don't panic" idea was tossed out the window as nothing more than a cruel joke.

He yanked harder, letting out harsh sounds of panic and frustration, no longer bothered with the fear of giving away his location. In the back of his mind he knew there was absolutely zero method to his madness, but he hadn't exactly been apart of How to Not Die in Quicksand While Your Weird Dad That You Have A Complicated Relationship With is Chasing You 101. He could practically hear Master Yoda shaking his head at his incompetence… but genuinely what the hell was he supposed to do? Fly out of there? Explode the quicksand with his mind? He wasn't skilled enough in the Force yet to do a lot of things, let alone mind-control thousands of little sand particles exactly where he wanted them to go.

Luke's balance began to waver as the quicksand made it's way up his shin and swallowed up the top of his boots.

He stared for a moment before a weird mix between a cry and a sigh escaped him.

He was so dead.

Sweat racked his body. His eyes began to water and more panic consumed him. Was he sinking quicker? It sure felt like it.

"No, no, no, no, no," He muttered in a flurry, his arms uselessly malfunctioning at his sides as he tried to conjure up literally anything useful to do.

He felt like the air was being sucked from him. He was completely and utterly helpless, being slowly dragged to his death in the stupidest way possible.

He grit his teeth. This was all Vader's fault. If his stupid father hadn't been chasing him so ruthlessly, none of this would've happened. He'd probably be resting with Artoo and getting some much needed sleep, but nooo, of course his father just had to chase him through this weirdass planet trying to kriffin' kidnap him. If he thought hard enough, it was almost like he could hear that wretched respirator cycling right behind him.

Kssh. Kssh.

Luke's eyes slowly widened.

There was no way.

Kssh. Kssh.

Luke clenched his fists.

Kriff.

"Quite the predicament you've found yourself in, my son," Came Vader's deep voice crackling through his vocoder.

Now Luke felt less panicked and more rage. It was a nice distraction, all things considered.

But his rage was soon swallowed up by embarrassment as he realized he couldn't even turn to face his father, with the sand now being almost to his knees.

So he stood facing forward as if it was a choice.

"I'm in no predicament, Father," Luke grit out. "I have everything under control."

He did not.

For a split second he felt Vader try to probe along their bond, but Luke shut his shields as tight as they would go. He prayed his dishonesty hadn't slipped through the cracks.

…But did his father seriously need to read his mind to see he was lying? It seemed pretty obvious he wasn't just choosing to stay in this humiliating situation for the fun of it.

Sand was seeping up towards his knees. It felt hot. He swallowed, unsure of how the hell to proceed.

Should he continue to try (and fail) to free himself? Should he just let the sand consume him with his chin held high? Should he… ask Vader for help?

All three sounded like terrible, terrible options.

It was official. Either death by sand or death by Vader.

He stood (sunk) for a moment, contemplating.

He heard his father's footsteps come closer from behind, his respirator hissing menacingly. The sound never lost it's bone-chilling flare.

"Are you so stubborn that you would rather die than face me?" Vader spoke roughly. Of course it was a rebuke.

Sweat dripped down Luke's neck. "I don't know!" He snapped irritably. "I know if I break out of here you're just gonna try to get me again."

"Get you," Vader scoffed. "You mean offer you your inheritance? Offer you unfathomable power that would grant you the opportunity to rule the galaxy?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Luke interrupted hastily. He could feel his father's immediate shock of receiving such blatant disrespect, but seeing that his death was steadily approaching, he didn't exactly have time to rehash his daddy issues. Vader's droning monologues were the last distraction he needed; he needed to think.

A quick glance at his feet- nope, nevermind, his feet were gone and the sand had officially made it to his knees, holy kriff.

Another shaky breath left him.

He was frozen, he was stuck.

All of his surroundings were completely empty, there wasn't a stray branch or plant or anything to latch onto. Absolutely nothing.

Nothing except…

He pressed his lips into a thin line angrily.

"You truly would rather drown than accept my offer?" Vader pressed once again, it coming out more like a reprimand than a question.

"Swan diving off the gantry on Bespin didn't make it clear enough?" Luke immediately spat.

Another silence took hold of the two of them.

He regretted it as soon as the words came out.

Luke was ever so slightly surprised to feel a sharp, brief, pang of hurt from Vader's end. It was clear his father snapped shut his shields as soon as it slipped through, but Luke had felt it nonetheless.

It's not that Luke felt guilty about saying so. Well, maybe he did a just little bit, but it's not like the man was innocent. Luke had truly wanted to die than go with his father on Bespin, but… now? Now he just wanted to get out of this cursed quicksand, and he wasn't sure if he would resist a helping hand even if it was from Vader himself.

But did the man really expect Luke, who was training to be a literal Jedi, to jump into his arms and work side by side with him? He wasn't sure if his father expected it or just wanted it so bad he willed it to be true.

Both options hurt.

Luke also regretted his words because if there were any time to get on his father's good side, it would be now.

He chewed his lip, his hands falling uselessly at his sides.

He couldn't move his legs an inch. It was such a strange feeling to have his movement be restricted in such a way. It was hot and uncomfortable and terrifying.

Vader's respirator cycled more before speaking. "I do not think you're a fool, Luke."

"…Thanks." Luke said dumbly. He was tired. If only he could get out of this stupid-

"I will not attack you," Vader said slowly. "If you choose to exit."

…Choose to exit?

Did his father think he was choosing to be in quicksand?

"Choose to exit?" Luke repeated slowly.

"Your immature reservations about the Dark Side are holding you back, but if you exit, I can promise we won't immediately clash. We may… discuss."

Oh.

Oh, suns.

Luke swallowed.

A slow, hot embarrassment engulfed him from head to toe. The sand suddenly seemed like a more merciful death.

His father didn't know he was actually stuck.

He just thought Luke was choosing to stay there to rebel. To avoid a confrontation. To die by the sand rather than Vader.

Not that Luke actually really wasn't choosing to sink to his death, but he literally couldn't help it. That he, the guy who declared to take Vader down and "avenge his father" (same person genius), was stuck.

He stood there frozen, sinking awkwardly.

While Luke appreciated his father's desire to not let him kill himself, he was not particularly excited about the next couple minutes he would be forced to endure.

He had exhausted all of his very limited options.

He would need Vader's help. And he wasn't sure which was worse; getting help from his father, or explaining to his father that he needed it.

The sand was only swallowing him more rapidly.

He swallowed, sensing Vader's swirl of negative emotions. "Father… I'm… I'm not trying to kill myself right now."

Vader's attention was solely focused on him. It was almost overwhelming to have that big of a presence practically absorbing him. "Then what are you doing?" He asked with an air of impatience. "Cease your foolish stunt and come out."

Luke wouldn't have been surprised if a tear of pure humiliation had slid down his cheek. For once in his life could his father read the room?

"Father, seriously, this- this isn't a choice right now."

"Luke, I don't care what it is to you, just come out."

Sand crawled up his thighs.

"Father." Luke sighed.

"Yes?" Vader drawled, seemingly sick of dealing with Luke's immature display of defiance.

"…I'm stuck."

A pause.

A part of Luke wanted to take back the words and just dive head first into the sand.

"…You're stuck?" Came Vader's gawk.

"I'm stuck." Luke affirmed, all the pride of his training dissipating instantaneously.

More silence.

Luke let his shields down a touch, just enough to let his own honesty slip through and to feel whatever his father was feeling.

His father was feeling… confusion. Before Luke could say anything, he heard the signature crunch of his boots, and soon his father came into full view, standing in front of him away from the pool of sand.

The mask couldn't make expressions, but the ones Luke were imagining weren't great.

"Father- please," Luke sighed, his hands restlessly gesturing at his sides. "Can you just- can- can you… help?" He asked pathetically, avoiding eye contact.

More confusion overtook Vader. The thought of it being a trap.

"Oh, come on, is it really that unbelievable?" Luke snapped hotly. "I'm just- I'm stuck, okay? I wasn't looking where I was going because of the fog and the uneven ground and- and you chasing me! So can you please just gimme a hand?"

"Just use the Force," Vader replied, his vocoder laced with bewilderment. He said it almost like a question, like he was shocked Luke hadn't thought of it first.

Luke grit his teeth. "I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?"

"Father- look at me!" Luke gestured wildly at his lack of legs. "Do you seriously think I didn't think of that? You can berate me all you want for how unskilled I am after you get me out, but-"

"I'm not berating you," Vader corrected. "It's your teachers who I'm concerned about."

"Okay- whatever," Luke groaned. "Just- please help me?" The words seemed easier to get out the angrier he was.

Vader seemed to stand there in disbelief for a moment. "And we will discuss?"

"And we will discuss," Luke said quickly, the sand creeping further and further up. "Please, Father."

Vader sighed before lifting a hand.

Slight fear was accompanied by slight… relief flooding through Luke.

He couldn't remember a time he felt that when his father raised a hand, but here he was, at his mercy. Here he was, convincing Vader to save.

…When was the last time Vader had used the Force to help? Was he using the Dark Side or the regular Force or a weird mix of both? Did he even know how to use the Force without invoking violence?

The thought sent shivers down his spine at being his Father's accidental victim.

"Please don't like, squish me or anything," Luke couldn't help blurting.

Vader scoffed impatiently. "I'm not going to squish you."

"Or like choke me or explode me or anything."

"Would you be able to discuss the matters of the galaxy if you were in pieces?"

"Probably not."

"Then trust that I will probably not do any of those things."

"I'm just saying," Luke muttered. It was a crime to be cautious, apparently.

"Well, don't just say," Vader said back, equally irritated.

"Is it really that crazy for me to be a little bit nervous?" Luke raised his voice.

"Do you want my help?" Vader asked sharply.

"Not really!" Luke shot back hotly. "But apparently we both want me out of here so this is kind of the best solution!"

"If you wanted out of there so badly why didn't you just take off your boots?" Vader asked angrily. "You could've gotten out minutes ago. I'm still not fully confident this isn't just another one of your little schemes."

"I- what?" Luke asked, exasperated.

"When you first fell in," Vader continued lowly. "I assume you didn't start off being sunken to your knees. If you had simply taken off your boots you could've continued running."

More embarrassment crawled up Luke’s face. He had to be beet red by now.

Why hadn't he?

Because he hadn't thought of it.

And before he could block the thought, it had slipped from his hands and through their bond.

"…You didn't think of it?" Vader asked dryly.

"Father-"

"What are the Rebels teaching you-"

"Are you gonna help me or not?" Luke snapped.

"I thought you didn't want my help?"

"I don't!"

"Fine with me." Vader scoffed, crossing his arms.

Luke could've ripped his hair out.

"Father," He groaned, white knuckling his head. Sand seeped further up his thighs, coming close to his hips. "I'm- I'm sorry, okay, I do want your help, just please?" He said, his words coming out in a big jumble.

"No, no," Vader said lightly. "Since you're clearly so independent, why would you need my help?"

"Are you seriously going to make me beg?" Luke asked desperately, glancing down at his lower half that was almost gone.

He suddenly felt a strange emotion from his father's end.

One that his father let him feel.

Amusement.

Luke snapped his head up. "Do you think this is funny?" He asked, his eyes wide with rage.

"It's not my fault your foolishness has the habit of being entertaining," Vader waved him off.

"How is this funny, you psychopath?" Luke yelled. "You talk big about caring about me, and yet this is like, the first time I've ever seen you remotely happy, and it's when I'm in actual danger!"

"Oh, quiet," Luke could practically hear his father roll his eyes. "You're not in danger."

Luke stared for a moment in disbelief, gesturing wildly at himself. "Yes, I am?!"

"You are far too dramatic, my son. I am here. You are in no danger." Vader repeated as if it should be known that easily. Maybe it should be known that easily. Maybe he should feel that way whenever Vader was around. Whenever his dad was around.

"Well, whenever you've been around, I have been in danger!" Luke protested, ignoring whatever conflicted feelings he felt in his chest. "Need I mention my right hand? And right now? You're not even helping, you're just standing there!"

"You seemed quite reluctant to accepting my aide," Vader drawled.

Luke stared, seething.

His father was practically toying with him. The man felt absolutely no concern, which Luke guessed meant he really wasn't in danger and could get out easily, which only made him more embarrassed.

Suddenly, he sunk a good half a foot deeper. It seemed the more the quicksand swallowed of him, the faster he was sinking. A panicked yelped escaped him, and he instinctively began clawing at the surrounding sand helplessly.

"Father," He said, his voice raised with panic. All dignity had gone out the window, he didn't care anymore, he just wanted to get out.

Vader seemed to straighten up a bit. It was about time. "Well, I suppose you've had enough humiliation for one day, wouldn't you say, my son?"

"Yes!" Luke agreed hurriedly, continuing to pointlessly scrape at all the sand eating him alive.

His father took a couple steps closer. "Luke, calm yourself."

"I am calm!" Luke snapped.

He was not.

"If I am to help you, you need to be still-"

"Still?"

"You need to stop struggling," Vader hissed impatiently.

"Stop struggling?" Luke scoffed hysterically, frantically digging more. "What do you want me to do, relax?"

"Luke,"

For some reason, that tone of voice practically froze Luke to the bone. He stopped, daring to look up at his father. His heart was beating out of his chest. He could almost cry.

His father raised a hand.

"Be still. I will get out you out." Vader said definitively.

Luke held his breath.

But for some reason, he fully believed him. He wasn't used to being the damsel in distress, the one needing saving, but he supposed if anyone could get him out of something, it was Darth freaking Vader. For once, he felt slightly grateful that his father was so powerful. It was almost… comforting.

"…Okay," He said, praying his trust was in the right place.

A pressure surrounded him, no doubt his father's force power, tugging him upwards.

His heart lifted. It was working, he was gonna get out. He could've fainted with relief.

But the relief disappeared as soon as it came.

And was replaced by pain.

He furrowed his eyebrows, an uncomfortable grunt escaping him.

"Ow," He muttered.

The pressure increased, and he felt himself being tugged upwards, but holy kriff, it hurt, it felt like he was being torn apart. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, OW, OW, Father!" He yelled.

Vader ignored him. Of all times to be ignored-

"Kriff- Father!" He shrieked.

"What?" His father asked, his focus clearly split on trying to get him out.

 "Stop- what are you doing?!"

"I'm getting you out!"

"No you're not, you're ripping me in half! You- stop!"

The pressure suddenly released, and as he slouched over, he began sinking again.

Luke let out a wild breath, and looked worriedly up at Vader. In any other situation he'd yell at his father. He'd snap at him for being too rough, maybe even berate him for not remembering how to use his powers to heal instead of hurt.

But he couldn't. Because the very man he was mad at was the very man whose mercy he was at. So instead, he looked upwards, his arms held awkwardly above the sand. They were starting to burn. "…Father?" He dared to ask, more sweat slipping down his back and absorbing into the sand.

Vader was silent.

"Father!" Luke practically begged.

"I'm thinking," Vader said roughly in return.

"You- you don't have time to think!" Luke cried, the sand coming up midway past his stomach. "What even went wrong?"

"I felt too much resistance," Vader said quietly, more to himself than Luke.

"I felt it too," Luke swallowed. "It felt like I was gonna be ripped in half."

"Well, you would've been if I hadn't stopped," Vader affirmed.

"You're not helping," Luke chewed his lip. "…So, now what?"

Vader stood a moment.

"…Father-"

"Quiet," Vader shushed him.

Luke wanted to scream. But he also knew his father was admittedly brilliant. And… he did love Luke. So he had to be thinking of a way to get him out.

The sand made it past his stomach, crawling higher and higher by the second.

And all Luke could do was trust him.

After what seemed like a lifetime, but was probably closer to a mere thirty seconds, his father turned to him.

He raised his hand once more.

Luke instantly braced himself. "What are you-"

"I am trying to move the sand instead of you this time." Vader explained lowly.

"There is no try," Luke mumbled without thinking. Immediately he regretted it as he felt his father's emotions spike.

"Sorry, sorry, please don't crush me, sorry," Luke said hurriedly. But that was the wrong thing to say too, apparently. His force bond made it easy to tell what kind of face his father was making. It was not a gracious one.

"Stop saying I'm going to crush you," Vader snapped.

As if it was out of character.

Luke decided to keep that one an inside thought. "Okay, okay, sorry."

Never in his life would he think he would be the one apologizing to Vader, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

He began sinking even faster, the sand practically at his chest. "Father," He said a bit breathlessly, not even meaning to.

He knew his father could feel his terror through their bond. Luke was surprised to find that he almost wanted his father to know how close he was to screaming or crying or both, how absolutely scared he was. He usually never wanted anyone to know how afraid he could get.

But in a way, he was mentally reaching for something, craving something. He didn't realize what he wanted was his father's comfort.

His father's hand raised once more.

Luke kept his eyes on him, feeling like he could hardly breathe. The heavy, hot sand had swallowed his chest and was approaching his shoulders. There was so much emotion inside his chest he could've vomited it all up.

"Luke, stay calm," His father's voice came again. A slight feeling of reassurance swam across their bond, and Luke practically dove head-first into it. "I will get you out."

Luke felt a similar pressure from before, but this time it's energy wasn't focused on him, but the sand around him. How skilled his father must be to so intricately wield the Force in this way. The sand ever so slightly began to shift around him.

Luke sank further, the sand eating just past his shoulders. His eyes went wide. An involuntary grunt of "Kriff," escaped his lips.

"I will get you out," Vader reminded him.

Luke swallowed, but kept his eyes on his father. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he felt like his father was looking back at him. Making direct eye contact. Not letting him out of his sight. He normally never had any super strong feelings about seeing Vader unmasked, but what he would give in that moment to be able to really see the man's eyes that he knew were looking back at him.

He was sweating. It was hard to breathe and blink and hear and see. But there was a steady pulse of calm his father was sending through their bond.

The action meant more to Luke than he expected. His father was not only saving his stupid self, but even trying to comfort him while doing so.

Sand suddenly began separating from him.

Luke immediately looked down, shocked to see it slowly but surely loosening from the death grip it had just seconds before. He could even begin slightly moving his feet and legs.

A disbelieving laugh escaped him.

Darth Vader was saving him.

"Father!" He practically shouted, bowled over by relief and shock. "It's working! You're doing it!"

It was only a short moment later that Luke could finally begin wriggling out of his position, the sand slowly collapsing away from him.

He felt a pressure aiding his climb out of the sand as he crawled out. "I got it, Father, I got it." He grunted, waving off any help as he finally slopped one boot onto the surface.

Vader apparently had no faith in him, which Luke couldn't exactly blame him, as he strolled over and hoisted Luke up by his bicep.

Luke let out a startled noise as he tried to find his balance, but Vader wouldn't let him find it as he practically dragged him over and finally away from the pool of quicksand. Luke wasn't a fan of being manhandled as if he was a child, but he could admit that it felt nice to have some sort of anchor.

Finally his father let go of his bicep, leaving Luke to find his footing on precious solid ground.

The two stared at each other for a moment. Luke stood a bit breathlessly, looking up at Vader. His heart still thrummed wildly in his chest. Under any other circumstance, Luke would've just bolted and not looked back. He would've fought tooth and nail until he was out of his father's grasp, but not now.

Luke suddenly felt incredibly watched, like his father was mentally scanning him from head to toe. When Vader grab his arms and turned them over, Luke let him. "Any injuries?" His father asked almost hesitantly.

Luke shook his head. "Just tired."

Vader looked at him a moment longer before grabbing his cape, his other hand grabbing Luke's face, and began roughly scrubbing off the mud that had splattered on his face. "Tired and filthy." He scoffed.

"Father!" Luke spluttered, pointlessly trying to bat away Vader's hands. "I'm fine- you- ow!" He snapped, finally succeeding in pushing Vader off. Or maybe Vader had gotten all the mud he had meant to and chose to let go.

Luke glared petulantly up at him, his face hot and sweaty from how much those last few minutes had drained him.

Vader stared back.

Luke wasn't sure how he knew, but the man seemed incredibly smug. Annoyingly so.

"Have the Rebels taught you no manners?" His father asked.

"What?" Luke asked impatiently, trying to pick the sand from his clothes. "Why can't you just say what you mean, it's always a damn riddle with you."

"Is that any way to talk to your savior?"

"Savior," Luke scoffed. "Captor seems more fitting."

"Father works best, I think." Vader corrected sharply.

Luke pursed his lips in annoyance. Couldn't exactly debate that one. "Whatever."

"I believe showing some gratitude wouldn't kill you."

Luke was tempted to continue bickering, to continue this losing battle.

But regardless of what his father decided to do with him next, he had just saved his life. Luke heaved a big, maybe even dramatic sigh, looking at the ground once before up at his father. "…Thank you." He said, maybe a bit reluctantly, but he did mean it. He let it leak across their bond that he was being genuine.

Vader seemed satisfied, crossing his arms and leaning back a bit. "Next time I suggest watching where you walk."

"Next time I suggest not chasing me." Luke grit out.

"Next time I suggest not running from me."

"You- ugh," Luke gripped his hair in frustration. Whether he liked it or not, he was going to take that particular bit of advice in that moment. There was no way in hell he could escape Vader in the shape he was in now.

Vader leaned over and picked a few stray bits of sand from Luke’s hair. Luke was too tired to protest. He dragged a frustrated hand down his face, looking up at his father. Everything hurt. He was slouched terribly and he had a feeling within the next five seconds Vader would tell him to stand up straighter or some crap.

Luke sighed before decidedly plopping onto the rough ground, his elbows resting on his knees.

Vader took a step forward. "And what exactly are you-"

"You wanted to discuss, right?" Luke asked, shielding his eyes from the blaring sun.

Vader stepped in front of where the sun was messing with his vision. "We should head back to my ship first."

"Not now, Father," He sighed, shaking his head tiredly. "Please." He added.

Vader stood a moment. "…Very well. But I refuse to discuss with you while you're in this… state."

When Luke opened his mouth to protest, Vader silence him with a hand. "You should rest. A bit."

Luke chewed his lip before nodding wearily, leaning back and lying down. He peeked one eye open. "…You have my lightsaber?"

Vader moved his cape out of the way, revealing his belt holding onto his lightsaber.

Luke clicked his tongue in annoyance before muttering an irritated, "Of course."

"And whose lightsaber was it before it got into your possession?" Vader asked pointedly.

Luke waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, I know. And- and Artoo?" He asked suddenly, sitting up a bit.

"He should be unharmed," Vader said.

"Okay," Luke said a bit suspiciously, but it's not like he could go out looking for him now.

Vader looked out over the barren land. "I assume he'll be here shortly,"

"Yeah. He's a tough little droid."

"And a very rude little droid."

Luke huffed a laugh before scrunching his eyebrows. "Rude? How can- you can understand him?" He gawked.

Vader stared.

"Go to sleep."

"Father-"

"Go to sleep." Vader said definitively.

Luke stared before huffing and lying back down. "Fine. But I'm absolutely bringing this up again- this is gonna be like, the first thing we discuss."

"It will not. Go to sleep."

Luke sighed angrily, shutting his eyes. He was grateful that Vader had the sense to block the sun with his titan-esque height. Who knew he would ever feel safe sleeping in his father's presence? He yawned. "Wake me in five."

Vader grunted an affirmative.

And if he had decided to wake Luke in fifteen minutes instead, that was his business.