Denial: "What-if" for The Trial of Darth Vader

On the Millennium Falcon: Day 5 (Part one)

The Millennium Falcon is soon arriving at the remnants of the Alliance fleet. While Han is slowly moving on with Chewie as emotional support, Anakin still refuses his children's deaths.

******************************************

The world spun. He was so dizzy... everything whirled... his head was bursting, ticking on a timer for explosion...

He had collapsed to the ground, the shock coursing through his body, the world spinning faster for a few moments. He felt a rush of blood, pounding a harsh beat into his eardrums. But... but he could not feel any pain, he was so numb... And he had lay there, wheezing, his thoughts swimming in murky, thick water...

Hollow eyes stared up at Han Solo as the man attempted to help Anakin onto an empty bed. "You gotta eat somethin'," Anakin thought he heard Solo say. He wasn't sure- everything was so blurry, and those words that came from Solo's mouth seemed slurred and vague, blending into the chaotic, indistinct background. The callous lights of the Falcon radiated around the ship, burning into his eyes- reddened, strained eyes that swelled from days of grief. Yet the burning felt like nothing; maybe it was all that torture he had gone through in the past two decades.

He has tried to consume foods, but every attempt was a failure that resulted in regurgitation, or, more commonly, puking. It was a waste of effort to swallow the bile down; it was not worth the agony to eat in the first place. Nor could he rest; sleep was plagued with nightmares of the past and the horrors of his children's deaths. He refused to sleep, he couldn't sleep- sleeping brought unbearable pain, emotional pain that he, despite countless years of abuse, still could not endure. He knew his dear boy Luke would not be happy with his decisions, but surely, his son would understand his father's worry.

Luke! He had not tended to the young boy today yet. He had been lying on the floor, too weak and exhausted to get up, only staggering forward now with Solo's support. I-I must... go... see my son...

With as much force as he could muster, Anakin pushed Solo's support away. Anakin thought he heard a gasp and a refusal, but he wasn't sure. All he knew was that Luke must be lonely right now.

His son cannot be lonely unless he preferred temporary solitude. His son cannot be unhappy, unless if he wished to be. His son cannot be unloved and not cared for, unless if he desired so. His father would not allow him to be hurt.

Anakin instinctively blocked Han away with the Force, though his powers had waned from starvation and the effort was a struggle. Once he made sure Solo could not pass the barrier, at least until he got to Luke's room, Anakin staggered towards where his son awaited. Every breath, every footstep was a further toil; he wheezed from the exertion, his muscles aching from malnourishment.

"You know, you're probably not as strong as you used to be," Luke's worried voice echoed through his mind. There had been a frown on his beautiful, seemingly immature face. Yes... now he was even weaker than when he fell attempting to do a one-armed handstand.

Still, he stubbornly carried on towards his son's room, relishing the memories, chuckling in warmth and gratitude at Luke's concern for his father. It felt good to love, and it felt good to be loved, even if he was not worthy of such feelings from his Precious One.

It only took a few steps before Anakin collapsed to the floor once more. He took a shuddered breath, then propelled himself forward, determined to make it to Luke. Han stared wide-eyed, baffled at just how Anakin was doing all this.

Anakin's arm gave in, and his upper body smashed into the ground. His heard his chest rattle and he could feel the burning in his lungs. I... must...