A\N: Holy cow, I am alive...BTW, this is NOT second-person! This is Vader talking to Luke! They are DIFFERENT! *glances at sky for lightning bolts*
You thought it would be perfect, didn't you.
I remember that. I remember leaving Mom. The pain vanished as soon as I thought of the great deeds I would do as a Jedi. That innocence didn't leave me for a long, long time.
You thought you would become a Jedi too, my son. That day you left Tattooine, you were spurred on by the same hope as me. Cruel of Fate, I suppose, to kill Beru and Owen Lars, but fitting, too—we both lost our families forever, and our pain was soothed by the same hopeful innocence.
You thought Kenobi would train you. I struck him down. Perhaps the only fatherly deed I will ever do, given Kenobi's track record with Padawans. After that, you found Yoda.
I know what you thought then.
You thought you would train, grow, and kill me. You felt the patterns of life unfolding in your mind, the sheer rightness of it: From boy, to Jedi, to killer, but all dictated by something larger than you.
You would be a hero.
My poor son…I did not know they had not told you, just as I did not realize you would not block the blow that cost you a hand. And when I learned their lies, how Yoda and Kenobi had betrayed me…
I should never have told you, for I shattered your innocence.
But how ironic, that I can accept and even understand that this, too, is within the pattern. You could have grown from boy to Jedi to killer without any assistance, true. But you were only half a person then, an innocent baby.
Now you are a man.
Am I thinking too hard? I suppose I am, for you frown at me. I turn my head away, but my eyes slide back to you, because with this mask you cannot see my face. I wonder, though, do you mind? I can see you as a toddler, reaching up and grasping at my mask, saying something nonsensical like "Daddy mask silly!", like all toddlers.
If only I could have known…
No. Enough. I will know you, my son, I will save you from the Emperor. I will allow him to defeat you—after all, he must believe my ruse of conversion—and then I will whisk you away, steal you to Bast Castle…no. Vijun. Only the Emperor can go there; you will be safe, both from Imperials and your manipulative Rebel friends. I doubt you realize just how cold and brutal Mon Mothma or Admiral Ackbar can be.
I know what you think now, my son.
You think you are the last hope for my redemption and the galaxy. You think that the here and now matter in some way. You are not old enough to know that, no matter the outcome of this battle, the galaxy will continue on.
You may have lost hope, my son, and lost innocence.
But I will give it to you.
After all, Luke, I am your father.