𝓘'𝓶 𝓢𝓸𝓻𝓻𝔂

I'm Sorry

Darth Vader opened his eyes to the fading suns on Tatooine, and allowed a frustrated groan to escape him. Lately, he'd been getting more visions, but none of them had occurred on the sandy desert planet. He grit his teeth together and started brushing the rough and coarse grains that he hated so much off of him when he realized something odd. When he breathed out, there was no hissing or humming of the respirator, and there was no tint of color hazing the world in front of him, and there was no heavy metal box resting on his chest. He was in the same body as he was before Obi-Wan Kenobi, his former master- no, Anakin's former master- had cut off his remaining limbs and left him to die on fire. He flexed his fingers and toes, testing to see if there was the lack of feeling on his appendages from the robotic parts. There wasn't. Not even his missing hand from Dooku. He stood up, before a blinding pressure pressed onto the front of his brain, and he reached up a hand to clutch it. Suddenly, memories of his life before losing everyone and everything he loved flashed from behind his clamped eyelids. Him, leaning over to kiss a gorgeous woman with wavy brown hair and an ombre rainbow dress. Him, accepting the young apprentice. Him, standing in front of the Council, being accepted into the Order. Him, as a boy and a slave and a nobody, with Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi in front of him. Him, creating C-3PO, bringing the droid to life. Him, having a small dinner with his mother. Him, graduating from Padawan into Knighthood. Those memories from Anakin Skywalker seeped light, and Vader wanted to rip the images out of his mind. Lucky for him, the images started to get darker. Him bowing down to the Sith Lord himself. Him leading Order 66 at the Temple. Him murdering his once-upon-a-time acquaintances. Murdering the Younglings. Him going to Mustafar, slashing through the Representatives with his lightsaber, his 'saber screaming with the use of being used in such ways. Seeping red. Him battling the Jedi Master until that fateful moment. Vader scoffed at his former self's arrogance. Him choking and killing his wife. Him killing all of the Tusken Raiders for his mother's torture and death. The women and children were not spared. Lord Vader bathed in the horror of all the crimes against humanity he had committed, his dark soul soaking in the glory.

"Son," a familiar feminine voice said softly behind him. He whirled around and felt his waist to grab his 'saber, finding his belt empty. He growled lightly under his breath. He was allowing himself to reveal too much emotion, and he knew he would be punished later, but the sight in front of him made his breathing stop. His mother, looking exactly like she had when he left her to become a Jedi all those decades ago. Her dark brown hair twisted into a knot at the nape of her neck, crows feet crinkled at the corners of her soft brown eyes. Her clothes worn but not broken and torn as they had been during her time with the Tusken Raiders.

"Anakin Skywalker is gone," he said gruffly, without emotion. "He was weak, I replaced him." He had said these words so many times, to so many people. But this time, he felt Skywalker push against the stone cold wall that was his soul. This time, he felt a little spark of something he couldn't identify.

"No one is truly gone forever," her voice was soft, and compassionate- too compassionate- it burned the darkness where the light used to be.

"Unfortunate." Vader focused on his anger, his pain from seeing his mother and used it to push against Skywalker's rising conscience. Soon, the little warmth was wiped out and replaced by the coldness that the Sith found comfort in.

"Come home, my son."

"As I have said, your son is dead."

"Come home. I love you." Her goodbye trailed off into a whisper as she disappeared with a flash of beige light. Vader couldn't help but feel relieved. Shmi Skywalker was of the weakling's past. And Vader was not weak. He was a feared Sith Lord. He had destroyed Alderaan with a simple command. He had slaughtered many Jedi. He was unbeaten in combat. The army under his command followed his orders to the last letter out of fear of him. Skywalker had loved too much, and that had been his downfall. Suddenly, the sandy set of Tatooine started to faze and became unfocused. He blinked and shook his head to clear it. When his golden-flecked red eyes reopened, the scene had changed again.There was still sand, but instead of a flat landscape, there were dunes. And there was an ocean, reflecting the soft colors of the singular sun setting low in the sky.