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Lightning consumes him.
Bolts of white light wreathed in blue ricochet across his skin, and burn.
"Young fool. Only now, at the end, do you understand."
Again and again it strikes, relentless, until it's all there is. He doesn't know if he's breathing, if his eyes are open or closed, because the universe has narrowed to this fire devouring his skin, his blood, his bones. He tries to haul himself up but the Emperor is coming closer, like the relentless onset of night, only this is a night that will never end.
"Your feeble skills are no match for the power of the dark side."
The Emperor seems so calm, and why would he not? There's nothing Luke can do. He can't move, can barely think, couldn't begin to fight this. And it would do no good if he had his saber, because to win against Palpatine would be the same as losing. One way or another there would be an Emperor on the throne.
"You have paid the price for your lack of vision."
There's no time to catch his breath or brace himself before the lightning hits again and he's on the ground, writhing, powerless in a way he's never been before. He doesn't know how he can feel this much pain and not be dead; it's ripping him apart, tearing him open from the inside out, searing across his flesh. And his father is there, standing beside the Emperor, and Luke tries to reach for him, desperate beyond rationality or understanding.
"Father, please..."
And the Emperor stares, dispassionate, and says, "Now, young Skywalker, you will die."
And the lightning blazes, again and again, and lightning reflects from the surface of Vader's helmet but he doesn't move. Luke can taste blood in his mouth and still Vader doesn't move, doesn't turn to the Emperor, doesn't intercede on his son's behalf. Doesn't care.
This isn't right. This isn't how it happened. Anakin should be fighting his way free but Vader stands and watches, lets it happen, and Luke's screaming and his friends are dying, he can feel it in the Force, and this isn't how it happened -
Luke wakes with that scream choking in his throat. He draws in a desperate breath that seems to claw at his chest, but the pain isn't there. The absence of something that felt so real an instant ago unbalances him, and he can still hardly think for a moment because he expects the lightning to start again.
"Luke, you're safe. We're at home. You're safe."
And - and that voice belongs to a time well after Palpatine, a voice he knows only because Anakin Skywalker did destroy the Emperor. It is a voice that means love and peace and home, and Luke seeks out Din's face in the dark.
Din is leaning over him. There's barely any light, just the faint silver glow of an unseen moon, but it's enough to see the wild state of Din's hair, the hint of light in his eyes, the worry on his face. Din is pressing a hand firmly to Luke's chest, and it's in noticing Din's touch that Luke realises his own hand is underneath it, pressed against his own heart, like he's still feeling the lightning there.
"Din," he breathes, letting him know he's aware, that whatever evidence of his nightmare he was giving away has passed.
Din sags slightly in relief. His hand tightens around Luke's, for a moment, then reaches up to brush sweaty hair back from his forehead.
"Are you alright?"
"It was a dream," he says, both reply and reminder to himself. But Din has a gift for seeing between the lines of what Luke says. He doesn't reply, just brushes his fingers through Luke's hair again, steady and patient and here.
Luke breathes out slowly, lets himself settle back into the pillow. They're in his bed tonight; they've not talked about whether they plan to share the same room permanently yet, but they end up falling asleep in one or other of their rooms every night anyway, never quite willing to move apart. It means his surroundings are as familiar as they could be and he knows precisely when and where he is, but the ghost of that dream feels unsettlingly close anyway.
"Not just a dream," he admits into the darkness. "A memory. Almost."
Din lies down again, facing Luke on his side. His fingers find Luke's, twisting together on top of Luke's chest. That touch, rough and calloused and becoming beautifully familiar, anchors him like nothing else in the galaxy.
"Do you want to tell me?"
Each day with Din feels like he's living the list of reasons he loves this man, because he knows that if he says no Din won't press him, will respect his choice, but he will always, always offer what Luke needs.
"It was the day the war ended."
The hand entwined with Luke's tightens, and it's no wonder. He's told Din his stories of the rebellion before, starting with the easiest ones when they didn't know each other well and building to the truth of his father and what really happened on the second Death Star, a history known in full to so few people. He knows Din finds it hard to hear; the feeling that blazes through the Force even now is a mix of rage and protectiveness so strong he knows Din wants to rip back through time to tear the Emperor apart. Luke would never have wanted to risk anyone else he loved in a fight against the Emperor, even if he'd known Din back then, but the fact that Din would have wanted to be there anyway makes him feel less alone.
"But it got twisted up, at the end," he says, and it occurs to him then that he doesn't think he would have admitted this to anyone else at all, not even Leia. "My father didn't intervene, and the Emperor was going to kill me. My sister, my friends, they died. We were going to lose."
Din's thumb rubs gentle strokes across the back of Luke's hand - the artificial one.
"You know my thoughts towards your father are - complicated," Din says, and that's a very diplomatic way of putting it, because Luke knows Din struggled more than anything with the story about how Luke lost his hand, with how Vader treated his own child before he returned to the light. "But I will always be grateful to him for saving you."
He leans forward and Luke rolls over to face him. Din's eyes seem to shine; he's so bright in the Force that it's as if he is the very source of the moonlight, not just reflecting it. "I can't change your dreams," Din says, and his voice is quiet but it's the only thing in the world in this moment, "but whenever you must fight again, I will be there with you. You don't have to face any of this alone."
And that's the truth of it, isn't it? When Leia chose to follow her own path rather than becoming a Jedi, Luke thought it was his alone, the burden of rebuilding the Order. That he would find those who needed him as a teacher but that it would always be his responsibility, that with the loss of his own Masters he lost everyone who could stand with him on this journey.
That's not what he sees when he looks to the future any more, because he's starting out with his own little family beside him. With Grogu and with Din, whose determination is unwavering in the face of the darkness that still haunts Luke. He can feel it, and he realises the strength of that feeling is because Din is practically shoving it at him - trying to communicate with the Force what he doesn't think he can get across in words. There's no particular subtlety in the way Din shares feelings in the Force, just raw talent that he is still uneasy about, but the sincerity of it is absolute, overwhelming - as in all the things Din truly believes.
This man gives his all to everything that he loves, and it still steals Luke's breath away to think that he is part of that.
"I know," he says, and curls closer into Din, savouring the sensation of the kiss that brushes against his head. Din wraps an arm around his back, holding them securely together, and Luke does not need protection but he loves it anyway, can feel the brilliance of this warmth chasing away the shadows of his dream. This is real, this is his, and all the darkness behind him and all that might be ahead is worth it for a galaxy where people get to know love like this, where peace like this exists.
"When I was young, my mother would sing to me when I had bad dreams."
Luke lifts his head enough to see Din's face again. His own heart suddenly seems to be beating louder. Din talks about his parents so rarely. From what Luke has gleaned, he doesn't have a lot of clear memories from his time before the Mandalorians and he feels guilty about it, even heartbroken; wishes he had more to hold onto. What he does remember he has shared with Luke only slowly, and each time Luke has understood that he's being handed something precious.
"I would go into their room, and they were never cross with me for waking them. My father would hold me and my mother would wipe away my tears and sing."
Luke lifts a hand to Din's face, brushes a kiss against his jaw. He knows acutely the particular blend of love, pain and wistfulness he can hear in Din's voice, would take that hurt away in a heartbeat if he could, but he also knows what it is to be left with memories that hurt but that you would not give up for anything.
It turns out, though, that this night is holds more unexpected things - because Din starts to sing. Not loudly; barely more than a murmur, really, to the gentle tune of a lullaby, but Luke holds every moment of it in his heart.
Peace, my young heart, you're safe beside me
The night holds nothing that you need to fear
No matter how long it is 'til morning light
With me the darkness cannot find you here.
He can almost picture Din as a child, with nothing dark in his heart but the unfulfilled fears of a child; with no grief haunting him, just held safe by parents who love him. He's not sure if it's his imagination or the echo of a memory from Din, but it's a gentle thought.
And the song goes on, as Din holds him close enough that he can hear the rumble of Din's voice in his chest and feel the words breathed against his hair. It doesn't remove the dream because nothing can, not when it's memory more than dream, but it builds something else on top of it. A sense of safety, of family, of love; of the life that light has led him to.
If ever you're lost and can't find me
If a time comes when I've gone far away
If you're alone and afraid to keep going
And it's too dark to endure 'til the day,
Remember you carry home with you
Look at the night sky and know that it's true
That each star burns bright so you can remember
That there is light and I'll always love you.
Into the soft quiet that follows, Luke kisses Din and echoes, "I love you." Because there are no other words he knows that so concisely say thank you for sharing this with me and I'm glad you're here and I think you save me every day of our lives.
"Sleep, Luke," Din says softly, and that means I love you too. "I'm here."
And Luke does sleep, and he dreams of bright-burning stars and the future he fought for without ever knowing how beautiful it would be.