Gates of Hell

Chapter 7 - Assassins

Author's Note: Thank you all so, so much for the reads, votes, and comments! I really hope that you'll continue to enjoy this tale as it unfolds! :D

~ Amina Gila

The landscape is glowing red and orange, the oppressive heat from the lava rivers ever-present, even if Vader can't feel it through his armor. He knows it's there, just as he knows that he'll never be able to forget this planet. Mustafar is a living hell. It's where Jedi go to die. It's where he went to die. Movement catches his eye, and he turns. Anakin is standing right next to him, expression filled with uncertainty and uneasiness.

"I don't like this planet," Anakin comments with a shudder. There's a feel of foreboding in the air, and Vader doesn't like it. The Force is humming with wrongness, and it sets him on edge.

"Anakin!" They both start when they hear the voice that they'll never forget. Obi-Wan steps through the smoke and haze, a disapproving, disappointed look in his blue-gray eyes as he looks between the two. No, Vader realizes, this is not Obi-Wan, his Obi-Wan. This is Anakin's former master. "How could you?" Kenobi's voice is accusing, pained, and though it's not directed at him, the words are like a knife to the heart. Vader thinks he would have broken down and begged his master for forgiveness on his knees had Obi-Wan come to him with disappointment instead of anger so many years ago.

"I –" Anakin chokes, stumbling back as a small vibroblade hurdles through the air, embedding itself in his chest. He looks down at it blankly for a moment as his legs give out and he falls to the ground.

"No!" screams Vader, dropping to his knees, reaching out to touch Anakin, uncertain what he can even do for him. He doesn't – he can't – Anakin can't die. He can't lose him. It's too soon for both of them. They're so young still, and the galaxy needs them. "Anakin," he says pleadingly, reaching for the Force and pouring it into the body of the younger man as he lays dying on the edge of a lava river on Mustafar. No. Why is this happening? Not again. Are they, in every lifetime, destined to perish here?

"You cannot die." Vader doesn't care that he's begging. He strokes the younger man's curls, silently willing him to live as panic and fear begin to choke him.

"S'okie," Anakin whispers, reaching out to clasp one of Vader's hands, though his own betrayal is drowning him; Vader can feel it. Kenobi is the only other one here. He was the one who threw the vibroblade. There's no one else who could have.

"You were the Chosen One!" Kenobi yells, unmoving. He seems completely unfazed by the fact that his Padawan is dying. "It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not join them, bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness."

Vader flinches. Those are the words that have haunted his nightmares. They probably always will. He'd never felt like more of a failure than he did in that moment, and a small part of himself has desperately craved the ability to prove himself to Obi-Wan, even after everything. He hates it. He hates that he can still love the man who put him in this life-support suit even more. He hates himself for being so weak.

His pain echoes into the Force, and it's as if it's being magnified tenfold. Pain – emotional and physical – dulls his senses, and he can almost feel the flames consuming him devouring him once more. With a jolt, Vader wakes up, respirator cycling faster than normal as it attempts to keep up with his distress. This is why he doesn't like sleeping. When he sleeps, he dreams, and all he sees are nightmares and flashes of times long gone.

Anakin enters the room not even ten seconds later, face somewhat paler than normal, and if Vader could sigh, he would. Of course. He should have realized. Because of the strength of their bond, they are as prone to being trapped in a nightmare loop as they are in an emotional feedback loop. This nightmare was far more detailed and vivid – and terrifying, he doesn't add – than many of the ones he's had, even right after everything went down on Mustafar.