#vader surfing sorta treated seriously

BREATHE IN BREATHE OUT

Delayed drowning | Chemical pneumonia | Oxygen mask

Panic flared within him.

Why was it that every time he went on a mission that was supposed to be simple it went sideways in the worst possible way? Missions that could be classed as “overly complicated” seemed to go off without a hitch, especially when they went in with the most far-fetched of plans. Did the Force just enjoy toying with the universe, flipping the expectations of all beings it affected just for the fun of it?

Luke was running, legs pumping as fast as they could, and his lungs began to burn. Just breathe, in, out, in, out… no. That didn’t help. It reminded him far too much of another unsettlingly familiar sound that insisted on haunting his dreams – and his waking hours, a sound that emanated from a being who was, in fact, here, as well.

Against all odds, defying all of their intel, Darth Vader was close – on planet, definitely, in the same locale, almost certainly, in the same facility, far too likely. Darth Vader was here, pursuing Luke, relentless to bring him in after claiming to be his father. (Even though Luke very well knew the truth of their relation, he chose to deny it, no matter how strong the Force sung in confirmation.)

Alarms had been blaring for several minutes now. Somebody, either on their side or the Empire’s, had hit something within the labs, and now it did not matter what side anyone was on, they all just needed to get the kriff out of this place. Poison was flooding into the air, some chemical gas under development in this facility, and it wouldn’t be long before the corridors were saturated with its potency. Many had been close to the exits, the majority of people already outside the building, but Luke had been deep within, extracting data. Artoo needed just a couple more minutes to get what they needed, minutes Luke was certain he could endure and be treated back at base for any damage he sustained, but then that blasted man had to show up.

Of course Vader could stand to take his time pursuing Luke. That respirator of his had to filter out toxins like this. So Luke took a much more circuitous route than he would have normally to escape the building in hopes of eluding his hunter. Naturally, this meant more exposure to the toxin, and he could feel his lungs struggling to keep up with his frantic movements.

Finally, he reached an exit, but it was not an ideal one. Nowhere near the landing pad or anywhere he could slip into the nearby forest, Luke was nearly cornered, his only real escape the river adjacent to the facility. Maybe he could move quickly enough to evade Vader and meet up with anyone else from the Alliance. The growing pain in his chest was suggesting otherwise, though.

And all hope was indeed lost when Vader appeared in the doorway, looming over him and looking out at the limited terrain for Luke to slip away into.

“There is nowhere else for you to run, Luke.” He seemed far more satisfied than he had any right to be. “You would do best to come with me and allow yourself to be looked at aboard my ship. Your exposure to this facility’s work will only cause you complications down the line if left untreated.”

“I won’t join you,” he spat, glaring fiercely into the death mask. “I can’t join you! Even if you – ” His words caught in his throat, and he could not bear to finish that thought. Even if you are my father. Luke couldn’t just give up on everything he believed in, even if he… even if he wanted nothing more than to know the only family he had left.

His desires were strong, his need for family even more so, but he knew loyalty. His aunt and uncle had taught it to him, the Alliance had reinforced it in him, and his friends – especially Leia and Han – kept it true in him. As much as he wanted to know his father, to be close to the man he’d grown up idolizing, Vader had done nothing to earn his loyalty as of yet. Something within Luke whispered of the possibility, somewhere, some ways down the line, but right now…

“I’m sorry.” Right now, he had to do what he knew was right in his heart. “My place is not with the Empire.”

And he threw himself into the water.

Several sensations crashed over him all at once, all of them leaving him breathless. The river was cold, far more frigid than he’d been expecting, and Luke gasped loudly against the icy waves. That same gasp forced water into his lungs – water that had been filling his mouth anyways, due to his lack of swimming prowess. Fear, shock, and additional panic gripped his chest, and Luke began to flail against the current, using any movement he could to try and keep his face above the water and control his swift movement through the water. He’d always considered that he’d choose death over the dark side, and he’d even faced the reality of that decision once before, but this…

Something about this felt different. It was less abrupt than throwing himself into the abyss. There was a process involved, a chill that permeated his bones, a fear that swept through his being. Luke had not realized it until now, but water could pose a true and genuine threat. So much of his life had been spent scrounging for it, savouring what few droplets one could extract from the atmosphere and treating it as a nearly sacred substance, he never once considered there could be such a thing as too much. Facing that now forced a genuine terror to ripple through him, compounded by the repeated bombardment of waves crashing into his face.

As he struggled to take in more oxygen than water, Luke could feel his head growing light and his mind fuzzy. His thrashing had already grown weaker, and he was exhausted enough that he did not even realize how he called out for his father through the Force. before unconsciousness overtook him.

***

Foolish boy. Foolish, reckless, idioticboy.

Vader did not know it for a fact, but he was nearly certain that his son did not possess the ability to swim, least of all to combat the current of the raging river running alongside the laboratory. The sting in his chest felt like Bespin all over again, his son choosing death over him once again. It was clear the boy did not know what he was turning down, nor did he recognize the danger he was getting himself into with his continued defiance.

But no more. While Vader could not dive in after him directly, he could make an effort to stop the boy from facing the most permanent of consequences for his actions. The echoing cry that rippled through the Force only served to further his conviction of this.

With a sweeping gesture, Vader summoned a large piece of driftwood, fairly flat and wide enough to support his weight, and leapt towards the raging waters below. Balancing atop the wood, he propelled himself onwards towards the dim presence of his son, momentum guided by the Force.

The boy was below the surface, skin pale from lack of air, but he was still conscious, if only just.

His prosthetics did not register much sensation, but it was clear how frigid the raging waters were by what little he could feel and the way his son was trembling. With far too little effort, he pulled the boy up onto the piece of driftwood with him, and guided their trajectory towards the bank. Tumbling onto the shore, Vader was quick to remove his cape and wrap it around the frail form in his arms. Through bleary eyes and soaked lashes, the boy looked up at him, pale eyes dull as he fought to stay awake.

“F – Father?” The word was weak, croaked out and nearly lost to the wind, but Vader heard it, crisp and clear as a bell.

“Yes, Luke,” he replied, gathering his son close to his chest. “I am here. You will be alright. Simply allow yourself to rest, now, lest you make your state worse.”

“I – I won’t… I don’t want to…” The protests were weak, his struggles even moreso, and nearly half-hearted. The boy still wished to escape, but he was succumbing to his sorry state, and the feeling of comfort provided by the very man he sought to elude.

Luke would come around to his point of view yet. Of this, Vader was certain. It would only take time.

***

He was stable.

The boy was stable.

Luke would live.

He just had to continue saying this to himself in order to stave off the restlessness that had already taken hold of him. Pacing outside the hyperbaric chamber – not his, but designed to be just as effective – Vader repeated these words over and over and over again in his mind, fearing what may become of his son.

Luke would live. He knew this. Countless med droids and even organic medics had assured him of this fact. What remained to be seen, however, was the state of his lungs following his recovery.

That facility had been developing a particularly potent chemical, a gas that would ravage the respiratory system from the inside out, meant to be deployed as a weapon. Its premature release could very well have had devastating effects on allies and enemies alike, and Luke had been exposed longer than most. With the toxin weakening his lungs and the water that had filled them following his escape…

The Son may reflect the Father even further than had initially been expected.

Should the bacta prove insufficient, Luke may be forced to live out the rest of his days on a respirator. Certainly he would require an oxygen supply when he awoke, for a limited time at the minimum. Vader felt pride at seeing certain reflections of himself and his past in his offspring, but for the boy to suffer in ways reflecting his own anguish was nigh unthinkable.

While Luke’s lungs had not immediately filled completely with river water, preventing him from an acute case of drowning, there was still fluid that persisted within, working in tandem with the chemicals insisting on breaking down his functions.

“Youwill pull through, child,” Vader rumbled outside the tank, staring at the pale, frail form within. “You must be stronger than I, in order to face the Emperor. I will not allow this incident to be your undoing.”

And if it was?

The hell he would bring down upon those who placed his son in this state would be unmatched by anything the galaxy had ever seen in all of its existence.

***

The first thing Luke noticed as his eyes fluttered open was the sterility bombarding every one of his senses. All he saw was a bright white backdrop, all he heard was a steady background buzz, all he could smell and taste was a pure, overly clean flow of air, all he could feel was an overly purified covering draped over him. None of this felt right, especially considering his last memories of plunging into icy currents and flailing about wildly in an attempt at self-preservation. This was far too comfortable for where he should have been.

A gentle pressure set itself against Luke’s face, covering his nose and mouth, reaching down nearly to his chin. Instinctively, he brought his hand to whateverit was and attempted to pull it away, but stopped short when a vise-like grip caught his wrist.

“Leave it be, Luke.” That voice was far too familiar, and if he was more lucid than he was now, he might have begun to thrash or resist. “It is there for a reason. Resistance will only cause you further harm.”

“Harm?” His eyes took a moment to focus, but when they did, they met the dark, angular features that had haunted his nightmares for years. “Vader. What did you – what did you do… to me…” He couldn’t hold back the wheezing and coughing that wracked his frame, causing his lungs to burn and the device on his face to feel even more present than before.

Vader’s fists clenched in the seconds that passed before he answered. “Believe what you will, but it was not my actions that led to your current state.” Was he imagining the subtle rage burbling below the surface of his voice? “Thoughtless science and your own… recklessness have placed your respiratory system in a state of intensive recovery. Speaking will only serve to worsen your condition.”

Luke’s eyes blew wide, terror threatening to overtake him. He opened his mouth to shout in protest, but an astonishingly warm presence wrapped around his vocal cords and silenced any sound he’d hoped to utter.

Vader’s stance shifted, his helmet dipping downwards and his shoulders hunching somewhat. He appeared almost… mournful. “I cannot speak to the permanence of your condition.” That… held far more regret than he’d ever expected from someone like Vader. “You have received the best treatment possible. However, your future remains unclear. Please, son, for your sake… listen to me, and allow yourself the opportunity to recover.”

A strange sensation was building within Luke. He’d always hoped to feel something like this, but he’d given up on it long ago. Now… the impossible felt somewhat within reach. Nodding slowly, he felt something lock itself into place, sealing his fate. He would remain with his father, no matter the state of his wellbeing. And, somehow, that did not seem the death sentence it once had.

So much of the future remained unclear. Perhaps he would need a respirator to live out the rest of his life. Perhaps his father would cause him nothing but pain, as they moved forwards. Perhaps he had doomed himself for all eternity.

But…perhaps…thingsmight just work out…