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[ Anakin and Padmé had toyed with names, as all couples happily expecting do, rolling around this one or that one in joyful anticipation. "Luke" was one of many, something he had forgotten.

Vader feels as though he's had all the air knocked out of him.

It's impossible.

His heart contracts tightly in his chest. He almost wants to deny it, to insist vehemently that there must be some misunderstanding, but every instinct is screaming the very opposite. The resemblance is striking- Luke has his eyes, a similar facial structure that isn't quite so narrow as Anakin's, he can see it's rounded more by Padmé's influence. This is their child, alive and grown up and thriving.

Vader's -Anakin's- expression cracks. To have a family, that meant the very galaxy to him. He takes Luke by his shoulders, haltingly, wonderingly. ]

My son?