The Trace Which Remains

Chapter 19: ... combat fatigue...

Pain. Mind-searing, body-wracking, stomach-churning pain. Anakin Skywalker's throat was
dry from the rasping howl that he couldn't seem to stop. His arms, his legs, his chest- all were bleeding profusely from his internalization of his inferno of rage.

Never again would he let himself lash out at others. Far better to punish the one at fault.

Luke didn't deserve the anguish that he was receiving for the crimes Anakin had committed. He knew it would destroy his son if he saw Anakin ravaging his own flesh like a predator had ripped him apart- but he couldn't still his hands, couldn't tear himself away from the physical pain.

The physical pain which was doing nothing to ease his emotional turmoil.

"STOP!!!" The voice was loud, and it froze Anakin in his tracks. Who was in the cell with him?

But the voice had been in his mind, and Anakin closed his eyes, shaking with the need to move, the need to fight, the need to destroy something- anything. In a whisper- his throat
unable to do anything else- he asked, "Who's speaking?"

"I did not return you to life in order for you to mutilate your body." The voice seemed right next to his ear, low, cool, like a night after a spring rain. An unseen presence passed over Anakin's shoulder, instilling him with a wave of melancholy calm. "Your family needs you. Your son needs you."

"Luke..." Anakin whispered desolately. They had been apart far too much these twenty-two years... and it was all his fault.

"You cannot help him if you cannot help yourself. Believe in your love for him. Believe in his strength, for there is nothing more powerful than a man in love. Trust me- my beloved saved me. Let yours save you." And the presence was gone.

On the verge of tears, Anakin leaned back, and held on to his bond with his son. He would be the rock which would anchor his son to sanity- he would repay the boy's kindness with all his heart.

****

"Why should I teach you?" Myka Severeth asked Leia Organa as she stood above him.

"Because I have people to protect. Luke has been drugged- or should I say poisoned?"

Severeth was clearly shaken. "I am... aware... of your brother's suffering. Far more aware than I'd like. What I would like to know is how."

"Your friend followed your orders to the letter, Severeth. My guess is that the vial was switched."

"Who the hell would be in my office?"

"I don't know- perhaps our mysterious, murderous meddler?"

His eyes narrowed. "If she's fucking with the Skywalkers again, I'm not even sure what I'll do to her."

"Dr. Severeth... who is 'she?'"

Standing, Severeth turned away. "She's here... now... my former master."

Leia gasped. "Darth Morata?"

Severeth leaned against the wall. Leia watched him struggle with the words. Finally, he began, slowly.

"Morata was a hideous woman- except in appearances. She could look any way she wanted, at least as long as she could fit in her disguise. She was a shrimp in comparison to you, and I don't even know what her natural form was- but she normally assumes the form of a female human. The only thing I'm certain of is her gender."

His head drooped exhaustedly, and Leia touched his arm in sympathy. He continued. "The last time I saw her was early today- asleep, here. I was able to spy upon her, and those codes you helped me with... they were in her briefcase. I have parts of the code finished... but it's still not enough. I hate code."

Leia bit her lip thoughtfully. "If I help you with the code... will you at least teach me the basics of Force-healing?"

Wearily, Severeth met her gaze, before lowering his eyes. "It's not easy, the path of a healer. Every death... it's like a stab in the heart. A reminder that you can't save everyone... Once you open your mind to the suffering of others, you can't shut it out. It... consumes you."

Leia looked away, before gripping his shoulder. "I would rather be consumed by that... than to be helpless and consumed by my fear. I need to try."

For a moment, she was certain Severeth would decline, until he hung his head in dejection.

"Let's start on your brother."

****

T'Ayha Lusha looked up from the still, sedated form of Luke Skywalker to find the Princess of Alderaan and Dr. Severeth enter. Her heart stopped at Severeth's expression- his face was so worn-looking that it seemed as though he had aged twenty years.

Before T'Ay could say anything, however, the two of them had lifted the young Jedi back into the medical cot, and Myka quickly stripped Skywalker of his shirt. "We need to purge this out of his bloodstream, while gradually removing the WANT for the substances from his mind. Neuromodifications are not my specialty, but that will be the part of it I will focus upon. You will need to draw the toxins from your brother's blood."

"How do I do that?" Organa's voice was steady and matter-of-fact, but her nervousness was betrayed by a twitch in her cheek.

Picking up the syringe T'Ay had used on Skywalker, he demanded, "Give me your hand."

Organa drew back, shocked. "What does that have to do with it?"

"You need to know the substance you're working with. You need to be aware of its Force presence in the bloodstream. Or else you risk removing some, but not all, of the poisons." He sighed, and looked at the syringe. "Even Plagueis didn't know any other way to effectively remove poison. This small of an amount won't affect you much."

Uncertainly, Organa held her palm out, and Severeth stuck the needle into her wrist, not even bothering to depress the plunger. Organa gasped, and Severeth tossed the spent needle aside, grasping Organa's hand.

A sudden wave of envy struck T'Ay like a tonne of bricks, and she fled from the room.

****

Leia's eyes widened in horror as the drugs hit her system. Severeth had been right- the drugs wouldn't harm her, but she could FEEL, with every sense that she possessed, that these toxins would definitely harm the human physiology. She could feel the effect that they were meant to have, and she wanted to push them away, wanted to purge them from her system, it was simple, all she had to do was-

And she understood. Her own body's rejection of the toxins was teaching her. To focus, to center on each minuscule portion of the poison, to find the quickest way out of the body. She looked up at Severeth.

He nodded, and pulled a folding scalpel from a pocket. She watched it begin to glow with Force-created heat- he was sterilizing it. Just as quickly, it cooled.

One swift slash, and a centimeter-long incision was made in Luke's left arm, near the shoulder. Silently, Severeth indicated the spot- that was where she pulled the poison out.

She clutched Luke's hand, resting her head on his chest. His heart beat erratically, but his breath was steady and calming. She reached out with the Force... and PULLED.

It wasn't the large-scale PULL she had seen her Father perform on Bespin- she reached with tiny tendrils of energy, seeking out the wayward molecules of poison. There- she had some.

"Pull it out of the blood that's on the way to the cut first. Then remove it from the tissues that are near the vessels."

She gritted her teeth, and began the slow work of detoxification.

****

Anakin breathed through his nose, lying on the floor of his cell, the pillow from his cot crushed in his arms.

Through his bond with Luke, he sensed someone using the Force.

Leia.

A smile curved his lips, and he reached for her, as well. 'Borrow my strength, daughter.'

****

Severeth seemed to regain his backbone as they worked, his exhaustion wearing away. Leia watched him out of the corner of her eye, careful to maintain focus on the task at hand.

It must have been two hours before Severeth muttered, "He is no longer at risk."

The following morning, all Leia would remember after that was a smile and deep, thank-the-Force style relief.

****

Morata was not pleased. Somehow, her plans were disturbed again.

It was time to take things to higher gear.

****

With a stretch of his still-healing shoulders, Luke yawned, and slowly opened his eyes. Something heavy and warm was on his chest.

Leia. She was slightly snoring, and Luke smiled. Her energy was less haphazard than it had been for a long time. Clearly, something had helped her sleep last night.

He looked around the room, to find Myka, sleeping with his mouth hanging open. Luke remembered his uncle lightly donking him on the head when he was young- he had been caught with his mouth hanging open, and Owen had told him that his tongue would dry up and fall out. But that joking threat had never come true, and Luke still occasionally woke up to find his mouth open- and in more humid climates, drooling from time to time.

The chronometer on the wall read 09:52, and Luke figured that it would be a good idea to wake Leia. She had always been an early riser, in contrast to Luke, who had a tendency to wake up when the temperature rose- which had caused him trouble on colder planets. Or in climate-controlled situations. But he was improving. Slowly, but improvement was improvement.

Luke rested a hand on Leia's shoulder, lightly shaking her. She stirred, before looking up at him. Her eyes went from bleary to awake in a split second. "Luke!" The elation that poured from her caused him to smile.

For a moment, he almost thought to ask what she had been so worried about- but then he remembered.

The feeling that his blood was scalding him from inside.

The inexplicable rage.

The inability to control himself.

It was as though he had been rabid, his mind degenerating into a red-hazed blur of anger, the fiery blood rushing through his ears and deafening him with unspoken commands to- do what?

Destroy.

And his heart fell sickeningly into his gut as he realized that he had felt those sensations before, second-hand.

His father had suffered the wrath of those drugs.

Shuddering, Luke covered his mouth with his hand, struggling to banish those horrible thoughts from his mind, to forget them, to ignore them, anything to be released from the memory. But he couldn't.

Pressing his lips together in a thin line of disappointment, he asked, "What happened to that Twi'lek nurse?"

Taken aback, Leia answered, "She ran crying from the room last night after Dr. Severeth and I began work."

"Do you know who she was?"

Leia looked him in the eye for a moment, before a look of indignation flashed in her dark eyes. "She's someone who Myka trusts. The vials were switched on her."

"By who?"

"Myka believes that it's his former Sith master."

So that's what Myka had meant, about Luke being in danger. "So he's not hiding anymore?"

"Knowing him... he probably still is."

"Then... how did you find him?"

Leia looked pensive, biting her lip for a moment before replying, "It's similar to how I can find you."

"I can hardly read him." Luke realized as the words left his lips that the admission brought a slight sting.

Leia pondered this for a moment, then murmured, "Sometimes it's hardest to read the people that are most like you."

Startled, Luke asked, "Like me?"

At that moment, the sleeping physician stirred, slowly coming to. Leia muttered quietly, "I'll get back to you on that- it's kind of a half-theory..." Her voice trailed off.

Severeth struggled to his feet, running a hand over his eyes sleepily. "Good, you're up. How do you feel?"

Luke considered this, then returned, "Pretty well. It seems you did a good job last night."

"It was your sister who performed the bulk of the healing- I guided, but it was her determination that saved your ass."

Shocked, and more than a little proud, Luke looked down at where Leia still rested her head on his shoulder. An amazed laugh escaped his throat, and he turned slightly red, bashful at the idea that she would work so hard to help him.

No, not just help him. She saved him, as she had done before. He swore that he owed her several times over, and he knew that he would repay her in any way he could.

"Leia... you used the Force?"

She suddenly gave off an aura of a kid caught with their hand in the candy. "I had to... I hope you don't mind if I learn a little bit from Dr. Severeth."

Luke sat up straighter, squeezing Leia's shoulders reassuringly. "Why would it bother me? Myka's a good guy- no matter what he wants others to think-" at this he glanced pointedly, but with good humor, at the Sith, who turned away, face reddening, "- and I myself have a lot that I might want to learn from him."

Leia's relief filled the room. "I was worried that- because he's Sith-"

"He's different. He wants to be different than Palpatine. That's what matters."

****

Anakin slept deeply once Luke's pain had subsided, and his dreams were ambivalent.

He strode through the streets of Mos Espa, his son at his side, a horde of freed slaves in their wake.

He laughed on the plains of Naboo, sparring light-heartedly with both of his children, a saber in each hand to match their moves.

He faced the ruins of Alderaan, his hand on the shoulder of his daughter as she mourned, finally able to dedicate time to her tears.

He marched through the gutted remains of the Jedi Temple, a contingent of Rebel troops behind him, searching for... who?

Behind the controls of an X-wing, cascading bolts of energy upon TIE fighters and maneuvering in a way he hadn't been able to since...

A voice, his own but not his own, through the collective communications systems of the Empire, commanding them in his old name... to do what?

He awoke, not terrified, but utterly confounded as to the meaning of his brief subconscious visions.

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