𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣 𝙨𝙠𝙮𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨

• fix me •

•••

It was a dark time for the galaxy. Darth Vader had come into power, the Jedi order was depleted, and everyone else was at the mercy of the Sith.

You didn't mind much, though. Politics didn't affect you, and as long as you still had a job that paid well, you couldn't complain.

At first, being Darth Vader's personal technician was a little daunting. While you knew your way around full-body armour and suits, the technology on Vader's outfit was more advanced than anything you had worked with before.

Once it had been a few months, though, you got the hang of it. You had even fixed the perfect schedule to ensure you and him never came into contact, as you would simply send his suit with a trooper to drop off and pick up whenever it got damaged.

Today was different, though. A group of people had infiltrated the ship, nobody too powerful but enough to cause a fuss. The troopers fought, but it seemed the infiltrators had advanced weapons, as one of them even managed to get a shot at Vader's hand. Once the infiltrators were all dead, the medic team got to fixing up the injured troopers. You just retired to your bed chambers, as Vader's suit would have been sent to you if it got damaged.

As you got dressed for bed, there was a knock at the door. You were confused at the late-hour visit, but just assumed someone had been sent to check up on you and confirm you hadn't been killed among the chaos.

When you opened the door, your breath hitched in your throat. Darth Vader was stood before you, outside your very own room. And you were standing there in your nightgown, with wide eyes and a slightly agape mouth. You quickly snapped out of your daze and cleared your throat "Uh- Mister Daver- I mean, Vader- Sir, how may I help you? Master?" You cursed yourself at how nervous you sounded.

There was a gap of silence, no sound except his breathing through the mask. He said nothing and held up his cybernetic hand, which had been damaged by the blast.

You looked back up at him, your eyebrows raised. "Oh, you've been injured."

"Fix me," He said simply, those being the first ever words he had directed to you.

You quickly nodded and picked up a jacket, putting it on before closing your door and leading him to one of the empty labs. It was a small one, but you didn't need much machinery to fix up a simple injury. You hoped your nerves wouldn't get the best of you and that you could quickly fix him up before he killed you.

He took a seat on a chair while you picked up some of the things you'd need before trotting back over to him. You sat in the chair beside him, putting the tools on the table before realising you'd need new metal ligaments to fix up the hole between his thumb and forefinger. Standing up again, you walked over to the materials wall, but realised what you needed was on the top shelf. You hated to be so incapable of a simple task, but you begrudgingly turned back to him with a sheepish look on your face. "Um, Sir, could you possibly...?" You glanced up to the box on the top shelf before looking back at him.

Without a word, he brought up his uninjured hand and you watched as the box floated down before landing in your hands.

"Thank you," You uttered quietly, walking back to him and sitting in the empty chair.

You picked up his injured hand and placed it on your lap before slowly getting to work on it. Not wanting to make a mistake, you took your time.

"You're nervous," He stated after some time, his raspy voice taking you by surprise. "Don't be."

You let out a laugh, glancing up at him before re-focusing on his hand. "I can't help it, Sir. I can't exactly afford to make a mistake."

"You've done this before," He commented, his voice calm. "Do you think I would have come to you had I held any doubts?"

"It's true that this is my job, but I've never had Darth Vader's hand in my... hands," You said, before your eyes widened. "I'm sorry, Sir, I-"

It shocked you to hear him laugh. Although it sounded robotic through his mask, it was a laugh all the same. "Don't be fearful of me, Y/N. After all, you're the only one on this ship who knows how to sew."

You were surprised that he knew so much about you, as you thought he assumed there was a full team of people  who worked on his suit. You just gave him a smile before looking back down at his hand, which was nearly fully fixed. You couldn't help but become curious, and as he confirmed that he wasn't planning on killing you anytime soon, you had even grown some confidence. "Do you... feel things? With your hands, I mean." You knew how the technology worked, but you were still curious.

He stared at you for some moments, and just as you gave up on expecting an answer and turned back down to his hand, he suddenly held yours in his uninjured one. You looked up at him as his thumb stroked the back of your hand, his fingertips gently pressed against your palm. "Just as you feel this, I feel the same."

You swallowed slightly, your heart racing. "O-oh."

"You're nervous again," He commented, his hand still holding yours. "Why is that so?"

You just shrugged, offering him a small smile. "Your hand feels so strong."

He immediately dropped your hand, leaving you with a sense of loss. "I apologise, Y/N. Did I hurt you?"

"No, not at all," You said quickly, before holding his hand again. "I can feel the force in you, the power surging through the metal veins, but it isn't painful. It's... comforting." You never thought you would be sitting this closely to Darth Vader, holding his hand, and describing the experience as anything besides terrifying. But in that moment, you were reminded that he was a human behind the mask, with human emotions.

He seemed to mirror your shock and confusion as he watched you finish up on his now-uninjured hand. You looked up at him with wide eyes. "I'm done."

Holding up his hand, he moved each finger slowly as you intently watched. With a single nod from him, your heartbeat returned to normal. You never took your eyes off of him as he slowly pointed his palm to you. A half-second later, you felt your hair move to behind your ears, the sensation of feeling without being touched making your hair stand on end. "Thank you, Y/N."

You nodded as the both of you stood up, and pulled your jacket tightly around you. "It was no problem at all, Sir, any time."

He took a step toward you, but the intimidation seemed to have worn off. He sensed this, as he placed his hand so his forefinger rested on your cheek while his palm cupped your throat. "I prefer when you call me Master."

•••