A/N: So I just rewatched Revenge of the Sith and Return of the Jedi, and this idea just made a beeline to my mind. This takes place before and after Anakin passes away. R&R please.

—

"For once, let me look on you with my own eyes."

Here he was on the brink of death, his son, his son, clinging to him tightly as if his life depended on it, as if somehow by holding him, he would miraculously survive his fatal injuries. Darth Vader, Anakin, waited as Luke Skywalker, carefully removed his mask from his scarred, deformed face. As soon as he heard the object that slowly stole his identity over the long, lonely years clatter to the ground, Anakin found himself entranced by his son's young face.

Padmé, he thinks. He's exactly like you.

Yes, he knew this young man and his wife may not look as similar as much as his daughter and Padmé do. But Anakin saw the giveaways in their spirits. The faith both he and Padmé had in his redemption. The fact that they both knew there was good in him. And apparently, they were right. But the relations between his son and his late wife isn't what shocked Anakin into almost speechlessness. It was his son's eyes. His son's—Force the two words ring beautifully in his ears like a mantra—crystal, ocean blue eyes.

And for a moment, he saw a little blue eyed nine year old boy, with sandy blonde hair. He saw a little blue eyed boy with a caring mother who looked at him as if he was pure gold, even though they were slaves on a backwater planet. He saw a little blue eyed boy with a dream that he would be able to fly across the sky and touch the stars given the chance, even when everyone on his home planet doubted him, or constantly told him over and over again that he would never amount to anything.

It was almost hard for Anakin to believe that he was that little boy. The twenty three years on the cold, lonely ships were so long, his childhood felt like a lifetime ago. Before the Empire, Anakin remembered his experiences on ships to be mostly pleasant ones. Memories filled with laughter, playfulness, sometimes tension before and after battles, but overall peacefulness. But after he became Palpatine's puppet, pleasant and peaceful memories were definitely scarce.

That was another thing Anakin has yet to understand. When his son was being forced to the Dark Side, he refused. He refused, truly and wholeheartedly. But Anakin just gave in. He just, surrendered himself to enslavement in all but name. He let himself become a puppet and just gave Palpatine the strings to him. Why did it take so long for him to realize he was being used?

Anakin hated that word when he was a child. He probably still did. Used. Making people feel like tools, just to be used and discarded after they have served their purpose. That is exactly what slavery was to him. The feeling of being someone's instrument.

As Anakin looked upon Luke, he saw a new light in the boy's eyes, hope written all over his face that maybe, just maybe he actually will survive. Anakin remembered that look. It was the look that he himself had plastered on his face when Qui-Gon Jinn first told him that he was to become a Jedi and that he was free.

"Now, go my son. Leave me…" Anakin's voice cracked with both emotion and the lack of breathable air. The hope on Luke's face slowly faded. He remembered that look too. It was a look that he had worn many times. When he found out his mother wasn't free with him. When he found out Qui-Gon Jinn, his first mentor was dead. When he found out his best friend and little sister was leaving the Jedi Order. When he was told that he was the reason Padmé was dead. Too many times.

"No, you're coming with me." Now where has Anakin heard that before? You're coming with me, right mom? "I will not leave you here, I've got to save you." The answer his mother gave him was the same answer he must give his son, no matter how badly he didn't want to. He never had a real, complete family. The bits and pieces of a family that he had, were ripped away too fast and too soon. And as he looked at the young, free man in front of him, Anakin realized that he was never free, despite being saved from Tatooine's harshness and brutality.

"You already have, Luke. You were right. Tell your sister, you were right."

And he was. His son had every reason to believe that he was unredeemable, that he couldn't be saved. But he believed in him. Anakin barely even knew him, yet he put more faith in him than anyone dared to other than his wife.

As Anakin's eyes slowly shut, he couldn't help but feel slight excitement and anxiousness. He will be able to see his friends and his wife again, and make things right. Force knows he has a lot of apologizing to do. But under the excitement, sadness managed to crawl its way into Anakin's mind. He never got to live the life he wanted to live. He destroyed almost everything that was important to him because he refused to see that he was being manipulated.

Once a slave, always a slave, other slaves used to tell him. At first Anakin thought those were just the words of pessimistic people who just lost all hope in being free. But in a sick, twisted, ironic way, they were right. He was "saved" from slavery only to be put in an Order that used him as much as his handlers on Tatooine did. He was "saved" from the tyranny and control of the Jedi only to be a puppet to yet another tyrant who took great pleasure in pulling his strings. And the worst part was that Anakin resigned himself to everything. He let himself be an errand boy for both the Jedi and the Sith. He was never free.

But as the Force claimed his dying soul, Anakin suddenly felt a still breeze blow across his face, the soft, surprising feeling of hair tingling against his neck. He couldn't help but open his eyes just a crack, and he was amazed to say he didn't see the interior of a crumbling Death Star. When he opened his eyes all the way, he saw a large and vast midnight blue sky with lilac purple and electric green lights colorfully dancing across it.

Anakin slowly sat up in a sitting position, his body feeling completely new and whole. He was in a field of fresh, emerald green grass and a smile crept across Anakin's face when he looked down at his hands, his two flesh hands, and turned them over and over again as if he couldn't believe he was human. He ran his fingers through his long, wavy hair and felt a surge of pure relief erupt throughout his body. I don't look like a hideous monster in the afterlife, he thought joyfully, and he couldn't help but let out an involuntary, hearty laugh.

He hadn't laughed in a long time.

As he stood he looked around the beautiful display before him. The colored sky seemed to stretch on and on forever into oblivion. There was no blistering heat like the weathers on Tatooine, and there was no freezing cold like the weathers on Hoth. There were no gusting, polluted winds like the winds of Nal Hutta, and there were no lava filled rivers like the banks of Mustafar. Here, there was only peace.

Anakin suddenly noticed three figures walking towards him, and nervousness managed to fidget its way into his system again. As they came closer and their identities became known to him, all anxieties quickly dissipated. His small, hesitant smile suddenly turned into a broad beam as he ran towards the figures like a lost child finally finding its way home. A relieved, ecstatic thought passed through Anakin's redeemed mind.

I'm free.