An entire culture, wiped. Thousands of Jedi, gone. Anakin Skywalker, *also gone*. The fall of an era, and the rise of an Empire. And all for *you.* Anakin could still recall the feeling of dread rushing though him as he held Shmi Skywalker, his mother, in his arms, bruised, her eyes closing, never to be opened again. His nightmares had been a warning of what was to come, and he hadn't been fast enough, hadn't been strong enough, *hadn't been powerful enough* to save her.

The moment he started getting those dreams again, about his own spouse, he knew exactly what he had to do. All for you, he destroyed everything he once believed in, along with himself. Anakin did not regret his actions, they had kept you safe, kept you from the cold embrace from death.

Now, he was only the shell of what he once was. Asides from his severe burns, on the outside, he was still Anakin Skywalker. With yellow eyes, and a red lightsaber, but still the same hair, and still the same scar across his face. Still the same frown when he was frustrated, and still the same robotic hand which's cold touch you had grown so accustomed to.

On the inside, however, he had changed completely. Now only rarely did he have time to tenderly hold you as he used to, now only rarely did the three magic words of 'I love you' escape his lips. Your marriage was far from what it once was. And though Anakin—now known as Darth Vader—promised he would not let any harm come to you at all, he still failed to offer that comfort he once found so easily.

When he wasn't force-chocking poor Imperial agents, he was talking to his Master, and when he wasn't with the Emperor, he was training—by himself, or his inquisitors. There always seemed something more important for him to attend to.

The Fortress Vader was surrounded by immense heat, but he did not seem to mind, it was only a reminder of his hatred towards Obi-Wan, and towards everyone who had tried to get in his way. The sound of your steps startled Vader, despite his ability to sense you through the force.