Author's Note: Here's the extra chapter this month. It's longer than normal, so I hope that y'all enjoy! :D

~ Amina Gila

Vader doesn't know how to feel about Ahsoka coming here. He can't trust that she'll ever see him in a better light, but Anakin seems hopeful, and more than anything, Vader trusts Anakin. If Anakin thinks this is a good idea, he'll allow it... but he'll be cautious. He has lost enough that he's become a pessimist, a cynic. It's how he's survived.

He's on edge when the office doors slide open, admitting Anakin, Ahsoka, and Omega. Omega comes to him immediately, holding out a datapad. "Here's Padme's report," she says as he takes it from her. "She finished. I helped her. She said that we have enough evidence to take action."

Vader flicks the screen on, setting it on his desk, and looking at Omega. "Good job, young one," he praises, and she beams. She leans closer, standing on her tiptoes, trying to see the screen, and he doesn't even think before lifting her into his lap so she can see better.

There's a flicker of suppressed shock from Ahsoka, and Vader looks up at her. Anakin is at her side, and he seems lighter, as if a burden has been taken from him. Vader is glad to see it, because Anakin deserves to find peace, to make amends with the family he lost by choosing Vader. It is, perhaps, a good sign that Ahsoka isn't radiating any hatred. Distrust, yes, but there's some curiosity there too. Her talk with Anakin has impacted her a lot, or perhaps it is just the time she has had to reflect.

It hurts, sharply, to see her, to see how much she looks like the girl Vader last saw before he rushed off to Coruscant. She survived, he knows, but she is forever lost to him. If she could see him now... he doesn't know how she would react, knowing what he became. It's different with this Ahsoka; she is younger, and it is true that she still clings to the Jedi Order, but she does not have the same involvement that his Ahsoka would. For the first time, Vader lets himself feel a cautious, fleeting hope that Ahsoka, at least, might become an... ally, a friend even.

"Ahsoka wanted to see you," Anakin tells him, as if he hadn't already done so through their bond. He's only doing it for Ahsoka's sake, to break the silence that has settled.

"And here I am," Vader replies, tilting his helmet, trying to picture her as she looked with his human eyes, instead of being filtered with a layer of red; he cannot tell if her clothing is actually red, or if it is blue, like he last remembers it being.

"Are you really Anakin's father?" Ahsoka blurts out, moving closer. She's wary, trying to keep a distance, but she can't stop her gaze from darting to the way Omega is perched in Vader's lap, one of his arms around her waist to keep her from slipping off. It is somewhat painful to have pressure on the stumps of his legs, but they have gotten better in time, and Vader is well accustomed to pain.

Should he tell Ahsoka the truth? Well, not the truth, but should he answer truthfully?

Anakin answers for him. "No."

Her brow furrows as she looks between them. "Then why...?"

Vader understands her question. "It was... convenient," he answers, "To let the galaxy believe it. I should hope you will not be reporting this to the Jedi."

"Shouldn't I?" she snips.

He regards her with a long look. "I think you will not," he states at last. "I think that your curiosity will overcome whatever loyalty you feel that bids you to report on us."

She shrugs, as if his opinion means nothing to her, but in the Force, he can feel how rattled she is, how his words hit a mark. Even now, he can still see her, and that pleases him. Perhaps his relationship with Ahsoka has not been the smoothest, but he is still glad that, despite whatever differences and distance they have had, she is not a stranger to him. Or Anakin.

"Well, if you're not his father, what is your relationship?"

Straight to the hard questions as always. He should have known. It would be so easy to tell her, to explain how he is Anakin from the future, but... he does not trust Ahsoka to keep that truth to herself, though he suspects she will believe it. And more than that, he does not trust that she will not cut herself off from Anakin and see them as the same. Vader will not be responsible for Anakin getting hurt.

"We are... family," Vader answers slowly.

In his lap, Omega is quiet, but her curiosity is bright in the Force. She knows, he suspects, who he truly is. They have not officially told her, but she has seen him without his armor, and she must have heard from her brothers who know who he is. She is... He trusts her to keep the secret to herself. She won't tell on them.

Ahsoka's eyes narrow at his words; it's not what she had asked, and she can undoubtedly sense that there is more she is not being told. "Brothers?" she guesses.

"It matters not. We are family. Words cannot describe... what we are to each other."

Affection flares through his bond with Anakin, and Vader reaches back, touching him lightly.

"What's your real name?" Ahsoka wonders. "I know it's not Vader. That's your Sith name."

Vader stills, shocked, by the question. Of everything she might have asked, that was not something he had expected. Ever. And he has no idea what to say to that. It reminds him, abruptly, of the conversation he had with Anakin about his name. Anakin had encouraged him to cast off the name Vader, to take his own name back. But he couldn't do it. He can't do it. It is not his name anymore, as he told Anakin. Their name belongs to someone who is good, not a monster like him.

"Skywalker," Anakin says, and Vader looks at him, surprised. There is a challenge in those blue eyes, a look that is practically daring Vader to argue with him.

"No," he snaps back. "That is not who I am. Not anymore." The last words come out more quietly, and he hadn't meant to say them, but he can't take them back.

Omega twists, careful not to push any of the buttons on his chest, as she hugs him as best she can. "You can be," she interjects. "Everyone does bad things sometimes. All things can heal, right?" She's quoting Anakin's words at him, something that Anakin has often said, and a strangled sound escapes from him.

The answer she's looking for is an affirmative, but Vader doesn't believe that. He, unlike Anakin, does not have faith that he can ever fully turn back. Obi-Wan had not thought so. Obi-Wan had fought him, tried to kill him on Mustafar. He had deserved it, because he had gone too far, past the point of redemption. If even Obi-Wan didn't think he could be saved, how can he possibly think otherwise? How can he possibly think he knows better than his master?

"Some things," he answers dully, keenly aware of Ahsoka watching him, "Are too broken."

"That's not true!" Anakin blurts out, stepping forward. "Vader –"

"Not now," Vader interrupts. They can discuss this later, when Ahsoka isn't watching.

"For what it's worth," she chimes in, "If Anakin could heal his kyber crystal after bleeding it with the Dark Side, then I have to question the Jedi philosophy that no one can turn back."

Vader has no idea why they're talking about this. He has no idea why he's even considering having a conversation about this with Ahsoka. It's absurd. She does not know him. In the back of his mind, a quiet voice points out that she probably thinks worse of him, not knowing his identity, and perhaps, he ought to give her opinion more weight. He ignores that voice.

"I cannot," Vader states definitively. It's the same argument he's had with Anakin, and it tires him. "I have done things you cannot fathom."

Ahsoka studies him critically. "It sounds to me like that's just an excuse," she notes. "You made yourself Emperor. You can literally do anything you want. If you try, of course."

He cannot believe her, that she could really say something like that when it is so against what the Jedi teach. Perhaps she started questioning the Jedi way sooner than he realized. Perhaps this is his fault, having tried to teach a padawan when he himself was anything but a good Jedi. Ahsoka should have had a better teacher.

Anakin jabs him through their bond, obviously sensing the self-depreciating thoughts, even if he doesn't know what they are. "Ahsoka's right, you know," he whispers to him through the Force. "You can do anything you put your mind to. Anyone who told you that you can't turn back... you can prove them wrong."

The automatic response rises, but he squashes it. Obi-Wan is never wrong. It's not true. It's not, no matter how much a part of him always accepts it as a truth. Obi-Wan has been wrong in the past, so why not about this? It's not a question he's brave enough to answer.

(Because it would mean that Mustafar was for nothing. It would mean that Obi-Wan was being deliberately cruel to him by choice, instead of because of the knowledge that he couldn't be saved. It will mean that the one man he loved over everything tried to kill him. For nothing except his own petty sense of vengeance.)

And those are... truths that Vader cannot let himself dwell on, now or ever, so he does what he knows best. He lashes out.

"An excuse?" he repeats disdainfully. "It is a truth, though perhaps not one you wish to accept. I – I have killed children. I will do it again if I must." That, though, is a lie. Mostly. He cannot imagine a situation where he would ever choose to kill a child over saving them. Not after meeting Anakin.

In his lap, Omega stills, though she isn't scared. She's more sad than she is anything else. Vader doesn't know if that makes her brave or foolish. Possibly both.

Ahsoka is visibly taken aback by his words, but it's Anakin who shatters the heavy silence in the room. "So have I." His voice is level, quiet, and the meaning and implications of the words break the tension more effectively than anything else ever could.

Shock flares out into the Force from Ahsoka, and she takes a step back, sucking in a startled breath as her eyes flicker between Anakin and Vader. The room... freezes. "What – what are you talking about?" she whispers, staring at Anakin. She sounds confused, and Vader wonders how long it will be before that confusion turns to betrayal. Force, why did Anakin say that?

He knows the answer the moment he thinks the question. Anakin, in his own way, is trying to protect him, trying to prove to him and to Ahsoka, that he isn't as monstrous and gone as he's claiming. He might appreciate it more if the cost won't undoubtedly be so high.

Anakin's expression twists into one of regret, but the resolve in his eyes is unmistakable. "It is not something I am proud of, and other than Vader and Padme, no one knows what happened. It – it was – I... was a slave. On Tatooine. The Jedi freed me, but I left my mother behind. Before the war broke out, when I was still a Padawan, I was having... visions of her in pain. I..." His voice trails off for a moment, and he looks at Vader, as if trying to gain strength, before meeting Ahsoka's eyes again.

Her expression is stricken, horrified, and she remains silent as Anakin continues, "I went to Tatooine to find her. She had been captured by Tuskens and nearly tortured to death. She... died in my arms, and – and I... I slaughtered everyone there, men, women, and children alike. I regret it immensely, but it changes nothing."

"I... I don't understand," Ahsoka stammers, expression uncertain, disbelieving. It hurts to see it, to know that she, despite everything, looked up to hi- to Anakin to much. He was unworthy of it. "That – but you've always been so... light." The how could you have done that, remains unspoken, though it still hangs there uncomfortably in the air.

Anakin smiles bitterly. "Then perhaps I have failed you, in never letting you see my flaws and failings, my darkness. I am good at... acting."

Ahsoka's eyes narrow. "Now you're starting to sound like Vader."

If he was capable, Vader would have snorted at that comment. They are a lot alike, and their mannerisms will probably only be increasingly disturbing the longer someone is around them without knowing the truth. They are mirrors of each other, and he cannot count the number of times that he and Anakin have acted or spoken in identical manners. But the thought of Ahsoka noticing also sobers him, because he doesn't know what it will mean for him and Anakin if she knows the truth. Padme cannot know, but Ahsoka... He does not know how she would handle the truth, or if she would shun and turn against them both.

Anakin, it seems, is thinking the same thing as him, because Vader feels his emotions fluctuate though his expression shifts into a look of amusement, one which is fake. "We are a lot alike."

Omega speaks up, suddenly, and if not for her in his lap and her brightness in the Force, Vader might have forgotten entirely that she was here. "Anakin made a mistake. That happens, right? People make mistakes. We just... need to make sure that we don't do it again."

Ahsoka's eyes flick to her, and she nods, a bit jerkily. "Yes," she says, though that one word doesn't sound very promising. She's looking at Anakin almost as if she doesn't know him anymore, and it hurts. Force, why did Anakin tell her? He should have left the past in the past. Vader is fine with accepting her scorn and derision and hate; he does not want Anakin to face the same, even if a part of him questions if Ahsoka would really do that. But he cannot trust her – anyone really – except Anakin and the clones.

The quiet pain in Anakin's eyes feels like his own, and Vader can feel the way their emotions are starting to loop, flowing seamlessly back and forth. They need a little space to get themselves under control. "Anakin," he calls, holding the younger's eyes, and silently trying to convey it will be alright through their bond even if he doesn't truly believe that. "Maybe you should take Omega back to the barracks. I believe she had a lesson with one of her brothers, Fives I think it was." He made it up on the spot, but Omega is sensitive enough to their emotions to go along with it.

"He was going to teach me how to use blasters," she beams, hopping off his lap and going over to Anakin, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. Vader feels a flare of fondness for this amazing child. She deserves better than them, but she's happier with them, he can tell.

"Right," Anakin agrees, understanding what he's doing. "I forgot."

Ahsoka's expression scrunches. "Are you going to keep making things up or tell me why you're making Anakin leave?" Her words are directed to all of them, but she's looking at him.

Anakin freezes, looking Vader, and Vader knows that if not for his mask, their expressions would be identical. He had known Ahsoka would notice, but he didn't expect her to call them out on it. He... forgot how blunt she could be, when she was younger. She had become much more tactful as she grew older.

"We need space from each other," Vader states, as if that will make sense to her. He doesn't know how to explain this without telling her the truth, something he cannot do until he knows he can trust her fully. "And I believe that you need space to process. I am giving you that." He nods to Anakin, and the younger tugs Omega out of the office, leaving Ahsoka in there alone.

The respirator cycles, leaving Vader unable to let out a breath of relief as the emotional conflict within him lessens. Hearing Anakin talk about their mother's death rubbed the wound raw again. He's never truly been able to heal from it, and perhaps he never will. It's always there, burrowing into his skin, the whispers of look how you failed her following him ceaselessly. Failure has been carved into him, and he fears – he fears who he will fail next, for it is only a matter of time, isn't it?

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but thank you," Ahsoka blurts out after the office doors close.

Vader raises an eyebrow, not that she can see that. He doesn't know what to say, how to phrase anything without it being awkward, but Ahsoka doesn't seem to need the encouragement, because she keeps talking.

"I've always looked up to Anakin," she admits, shaking her head, pacing back and forth across the office. "I can't imagine him ever doing something so violent."

He knows he should shut her up. She doesn't want to tell him this, when he and Anakin are the same. She doesn't know, and it feels... deceitful to let her confide in him, knowing that he is, or once was rather, Anakin. But he says nothing. Sending her away when she's struggling might, he thinks, be even worse. Perhaps later, if she learns the truth, she'll understand his silence, but she will not understand him brushing her off. That would be cruel. Too cruel for even him to do.

"No one is perfect, young one, least of all those who view as such."

Ahsoka sighs, and then plops down in a chair, the chair that he used to sit in whenever he came to see the Chancellor. It jars him, and he clenches his hands into fists, vowing to help her, to not betray her confidence as Palpatine did with him.

"But... he's Anakin," she says if that explains anything. "I..." Her voice lowers. "I didn't know he was a slave."

"It is not something he advertises," Vader answers. "Jedi are taught to let go of their past. Anakin... tries." And fails. The both of them are doomed, forever bound to the desert where they were born. They can never leave, never forget the feel of the twin suns burning into them.

"He never talks about his past," she murmurs, frowning, "Except to tell me he doesn't want to talk about it. But... I've always been curious, y'know? He's well-respected among the younglings, even now." She shrugs one shoulder. "Some don't trust him. Some do. It's strange." She fidgets, tapping her fingers on her knee. "The Order is not what it was before you showed up, for better and worse."

"Better?" Vader repeats, surprised.

"Less fighting," she offers with a grin that quickly fades. "We have more time to relax, but there's a lot of tension there. No one knows what will happen next... what we should do."

"And what do you think the Jedi should do?" he queries, curious.

Ahsoka bites her lip, pondering it. "I don't know." Her voice is quiet. "But the Council will decide what's best."

"Will they?"

She glares at him. "Of course, they will."

"I mean no offense, Ahsoka, but the Jedi Council have long seen the Sith as the enemy. I find myself unwilling to believe that they will change merely because I am not the kind of Sith they expected," he points out.

Her gaze sharpens. "You think they will fight you."

"I think they will try," he corrects. "I do not wish to hurt them – the Jedi could help me immensely – but I do not trust them not to try to kill me... or Anakin."

She stiffens. "They wouldn't."

"They think he's Fallen and become a Sith. They certainly would. But it matters not, because war against me means war against Anakin. We are one."

He nearly winces the moment the words leave his mouth, because it's too close to the secret of his identity for his liking. But at the same time, it's the truth, even if they didn't share the same soul and past. He and Anakin have already chosen each other, and nothing will shake the bond between them. Nothing.

Perhaps, by warning Ahsoka, he's giving her a choice, letting her know that she may need to choose as well,