Candlelight

Chapter 1 - Awakening

Author's Note: I haven't seen nearly all the Vaderkin time travels out there, but I've still never seen one that actually focused on his trauma post-ROTJ. So, that's what this is going to focus on. :D There will be a background plot going on, but there will not be much action.

Also, I've never seen anyone actually address what it would mean for Vaderkin to have been redeemed post-ROTJ. Most of the time, people just write him as Vader somewhat drawing on the Light, and that is *not* redemption, so that is not how he will be written here.

If you don't like this portrayal, I'm sure almost every other Vaderkin time traveling the fandom can fit what you want to see. =) 

~ Tirana Sorki

This is a gift request for @moxo-mx on tumblr. I'm not sure what you wanted to see for this fic, so I hope that you enjoy how it turned out! ^-^

We'll be posting weekly on Tuesday! :D

~ Amina Gila

The light is bright, painfully so, though there shouldn't be light here. He's gone, dead. Or is this the afterlife? Or worse? Anakin raises an arm to block out the light – why do people always leave bright lights on when someone is, or was, unconscious? The room feels... strangely familiar, and he recognizes the smell instantly. He always hated it, but it's so much worse now, after... Vader. "Is this hell?"

The laugh that sounds freezes him entirely, his mind screeching to a dead halt. He's missed it so much, even if he can't say why, because this is the man who hurt him unimaginably. "For you, padawan mine, always."

What confuses him more is how the pain in his body isn't as he remembers it – it's something else entirely. It's minor enough that he doesn't think twice of it, instead, pulling his eyes open. "Master," he rasps, laying eyes on Obi-Wan for the first time since...

Since he killed him.

It floods him with shame as it often does – Anakin knows he had wanted it then and that he often had, but he... Not now. The better question would be why Obi-Wan is here, and how they're both here. It doesn't make sense.

He's unsurprised he can't bear to face him, but it's worse than he imagined it would be. "Master, I'm so sorry," he begins. It's a half-formed apology, and a mostly incomprehensible one, but it's one he owes, nevertheless.

Obi-Wan still looks amused, for some reason. He reaches over, touching Anakin's arm. The sensation is jarring, foreign. It's the first time he's felt anyone in years. The first time he's really touched someone except Obi-Wan when they fought on Mustafar. It's been twenty-three years. Touch has become completely foreign to him. He looks down at Obi-Wan's hand, half expecting him to pull away or for it to hurt because this is probably a dream though he knows it's not – he died. He did.

His mind isn't working like he's used to, but everything feels different, and he pushes himself up with a start, leaning forwards to wrap his arms around Obi-Wan. It's jarring to feel so much, but he doesn't care. It's been way too long. He has no idea how lonely he'd felt until right now. The sane part of his mind yells at him to let go but he doesn't care right now.

"Are you alright?" Obi-Wan asks, sounding mildly freaked out.

No. Maybe. He doesn't know. He doesn't answer the question, either. He doesn't move, but he's more human than he has been in years. He's breathing on his own and – and he barely remembers how to. He doesn't really remember, anymore.

Obi-Wan very awkwardly wraps an arm around his shoulders and just... holds him. "If I knew you were this desperate for hugs, I would have sent Ahsoka in here," he grumbles.