A Sun In Darkness

A Shard of Understanding

WARNING : There is SELF-HARM involved in this chapter. If you think you might get triggered or disturbed, feel free to exit immediately.

Darth Vader was in the middle of another tedious meeting as usual, his presence momentarily forgotten by the other occupants of the room as he did not utter a single word. It was during that time when he sensed it. It was a Force-Signature, dim and flickering frantically, reminding Vader strongly of a lone candle fighting to not go out. The fading flame still fought to produce warmth despite something resembling a cold wind extinguishing it.

It could only mean one thing.

Something was wrong  with Luke.

He did not notice the startled reactions of the Imperial officers as he abruptly rose up from his seat, only to exit the Conference Room in a heartbeat. He would deal with them later, he told himself. He ran blindly towards the private wing of the palace in a full-blown panic. His heart rate increased with every second, but he knew it was not just his quick movements that had caused it.

As soon as Luke's quarters came into view, he forced the door open. Fear ran through him, freezing every inch of his body. Was it an assassin? A rebel? Or worse, an Emperor's Hand sent by his master? The dread pooled in his stomach expanded at the last thought.

His entire world crumbled before his eyes.

There, motionless on the bed and unconscious, was a body, one far too pale and thin for his own comfort. The spotless white sheets were stained in several areas, stains that Vader just knew with his red gaze were a haunting crimson.

"Luke?" Vader called, barely hearing the words pass through his vocoder. He felt paralyzed but his boots still directed him to the bed until he was close enough to see it.

He wished he hadn't.

Multiple cuts covered the exposed skin on both Luke's arms. Vader did not have to be a genius to know that these were recent.

And to top it all up, there was a small but sharp piece of metal not far from Luke's right hand, the light cruelly reflecting on the blood-stained surface. The sight was enough to confirm his worst fears, acting like a match to ignite his anguish.

A wave of horror nearly drowned him a second later, the realization that Luke had harmed himself with a razor blade slamming into him.

His mind stretched forwards, desperately searching for Luke's Force-Signature. It was still there but it was evident it soon would not be.

Wasting no time, he leaned forwards and dragged his son's body into his arms. Luke's weight felt almost nonexistent. Vader's alarm heightened. Luke was too light, extremely light. Had he been eating properly? Was he even eating?

It soon dawned on him that he could not answer those questions. He had been so engrossed with his own work that he-

Time was running short, he realised and clutched Luke tighter as he dashed out of the bedroom, desperation fuelling his every movement. The wave of horror that had hit him just minutes before flooded his heart. Unconsciously he release a roar of despair into the Force, sending what seemed like helpless pleas to the other end of their bond.

Luke would live, Vader told himself. He forced himself to believe the statement like a prayer. Luke would live. He should and he would.

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Vader never left Luke's side, his intimidating figure constantly looming protectively over the standard-issued medical cot. The med-droid had urged him to sit down but he found that simple action impossible to do at that moment.