Darth Vader Goes to Therapy

The First Bonding Session

Apparently, getting to know his son would be more difficult than Vader had anticipated.

He absolutely hated that he'd just found his long lost son and yet circumstances made it impossible to be with him as much as he'd liked. He'd had some extra time during the time he knew Luke usually went to lunch, so he'd thought, despite their arrangement, he could drop by and spend time with his son.

He was fairly certain Luke hadn't enjoyed it at all, making him more frustrated than usual.

"Admiral." Vader said later that night on the bridge. He'd glared out at the stars for hours, stewing over the boy he could feel even with the many life forms and levels between them. The boy was a supernova in the Force--how had he missed that?

"Yes, Lord Vader?" Piett replied, looking up from his datapad.

Vader said nothing for a moment, wondering if perhaps it would be wiser not to say anything, but... "Do you have children?"

Piett was his most trusted officer. His work was always excellently done. Surely, if this man was a father, he'd excel at that, too. Maybe he could get...well. He wouldn't ask for help, but maybe he could observe him...

"I do not."

Hm. He'd have to figure out a good approach to his Luke problem on his own, then. It wouldn't be a problem, of course--he was Darth Vader. He could do anything he set his mind to.

The next morning, he was yet again early to his appointment.

"Ah. It's the gift giver himself." Luke's droid said by way of greeting.

"It was not a gift." He growled at it. "I simply wished to ensure my therapist does not die of illness. I will not be starting this stupid process over again."

Even as he said it, he couldn't help but be pleased with himself. He was excellent at keeping things on the 'down low,' as his son so eloquently put it.

The droid had the audacity to look him up and down. "Uh huh. Well. Since you refuse to sign in, I guess you may go in."

Vader rolled his eyes. "It is my ship. I will go where I please, droid, I do not need your permission."

He marched into the office. This time, he found Luke ready and waiting, sitting behind his desk as though everything were totally normal.

"You're early again." Luke commented as the door swished shut behind him.

"We have much to deal with, son." Vader made a point of emphasizing the boy's new title. "I have cleared these two hours as planned. One for your idiotic therapy, and the other so we can be productive in our relationship."

Luke stared at him for a long moment. Drew a deep breath, and leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "For this first hour, I am not your son. I am your therapist. I will do my job. That was our agreement."

"It is a stupid agreement, but I will humor you."

Luke's eyes narrowed, then he leaned back in his seat, pulling up his precious datapad. "In honor of that agreement, I think it would be most productive to pretend during this first hour that I am not your son."

"That is the opposite of productivity!" Vader pointed at him accusingly. "You just do not wish to accept--"

"Oh, I've accepted that you're my father, believe me, that's...that's not at all left my mind over the last few days. But for the sake of our therapist-client relationship, it needs to be this way." Vader made a furious noise, but Luke pushed on. "So! Lord Vader. Why don't you tell me how the last few days has been for you?"