The Little Things

Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood

(Don't Let Me Be) Misunderstood

–

Baby, do you understand me now
Sometimes I feel a little mad
But don't you know that no one alive
Can always be an angel
When things go wrong I seem to be bad

–

Darth Vader entered the prison cell in which he kept the philosopher. Phren was fiddling with the automated tools that included a food dispenser and retractable toothbrush – the latter seemingly jammed.

"It's stuck." Phren voiced with a struggle.

"Let me see." Vader crouched down, shoving Phren out of the way.

Pushed aside, he rubbed the rough texture of his hands together, massaging them after a failed DIY attempt. He observed the Sith working away. "Thought you would send someone in to fix that." He rarely saw powerful leaders engage in labor.

"I don't pay anyone to do what I can do myself." Vader tested the service and, low and behold, the toothbrush was retrieved. "If you have to send someone to kill a man, you shouldn't be killing anyone."

Phren folded his arms as Vader's red lenses struck him with a lucid confidence. "You like to fix things."

"I fix things." Vader agreed.

Phren plopped himself on the bed behind him, watching the Dark Lord with thoughtful eyes. "Gives you a sense of control."

Vader stiffened as though the philosopher had found his triggers. Phren took in the harsh physicality of Vader as it was paired with a synthetic voice, "I have control."

"Do you?" Phren questioned, albeit treading carefully around Vader, knowing he could evoke a reaction, an eccentricity Vader might unleash at any given time. But he wasn't about to lower his defenses. Resolutions are difficult to achieve but in order for his words to resonate with Vader, he couldn't tiptoe around criticism. "This trip down memory lane proves the opposite. I'd say, you're terrified of losing control. But it is only when we accept what we can't control do we find the stability we're looking for."

Vader snickered. "Only a mere mortal man puts limitations on his power. I died in a fire and came back to life. I am superior to man."

"You're right. You're not a man. Because a man knows that his power does not come from exerting it over others. A true measure of a man's strength is his discipline. And you can't let go."

Phren's steady eyes line up with Vader's, and although he cannot see behind the mask, he knows a thousand scars hide behind it, each with a secret, character, and language. Vader may have been able to fool most of the mortals he encountered, but Phren sensed the transparencies of his motives, surprised by how eerily close to the surface they were. It was also clear Vader detested the fact that he failed to bury them further.

The sheer contents within the crystal bowl on Phren's nightstand began to stir, shimmering, swirling around like turquoise liquid clouds. Phren's eyes remained firmly on Vader as he glanced inside the bowl.

"Your anxiety and desire for power stems from your inability to fix the past."

–

Young Anakin worked on repairing a new droid. He dedicated himself to understanding the mechanics of the equipment sent over – it was a great distraction. He hoped it would drown out the noise in the other room. He could hear Watto and his mother arguing. Shmi's voice sows deep with its softness so she attempts to appeal to a more charitable side of Watto. Even if he hadn't shown much of it, Shmi was never one to accept the breaking of spirit.