Archive of Our Own ^beta

There's a painting on the wall.

Two women, one naked and the other bundled in a bloodbath of what was once white robes, holding each other and blending as one to create a glorified picture of life, loss and death. The robed woman is crying hysterically, porcelain face twisted into a soundless cry while the other is staring ahead lifelessly as a stream of crimson drips from her wrists. They're in the middle of some fancy bathroom, the robed one attempting to drag the dead one out of the bathtub, both surrounded by a sea of bloody bath water.

Countless times Piett had witnessed death and knew it could never look as candidly beautiful as it did here. Still, he thinks nothing and continues strolling through the deserted church, fingertips collecting dust from each thing he touches.

There's candles everywhere, practically the only source of light considering it's deep into the night cycle now, and they produce little to no scent apart from the smell of burning wax. Strangely enough, his eyes are more drawn to them than the painting, and he soon finds himself inspecting them closely, narrowing them as if they have words written somewhere hidden inside.

As if they have an answer to the painful questions constantly buzzing around his mind.

As the flame flickers beneath him, dancing around the wax and licking heat out into the open, he briefly envisions himself as some sort of God, ridiculous as it may be. At any second he chooses, he could snuff the flames and then birth a thousand new ones. He doesn’t. It’s a sickening reminder of mortality. He doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t want to think–

“Hello?” An elderly woman’s voice croaks out at his side. His head snaps towards the sound, eyes widened and mouth dry with sorrow. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you," she smiles, the wrinkles on her face deepening. By the looks of it, she’s a nun, most likely someone who works here if he had to guess.

“No, really. It’s my fault. Should’ve been paying attention," his voice was more strained than he would’ve liked. When’s the last time he had a drink of water? Actually, when’s the last time he spoke? The nun’s smile turns almost pitiful.

“I haven’t seen you here before. Are you looking for something?”

Everything and nothing at all. “Just passing by.”

“Are you religious?”

Not sure anymore. “Yes.”

She nods knowingly. “It’s a beautiful thing, isn’t it? The kind of unconditional love you just don’t get with anyone else.”

An uncontrollable, visceral look of disgust steals the mournful look he wore moments prior. The nun takes no notice, thankfully, too preoccupied with the candles herself. Taming the tide that’s drowning him, he forces a smile in her direction, despite her never meeting his eyes.

“I find it to be rather blinding.”

Snapping her head towards him with a violent turn, she stares at him, wanting him to elaborate.

He does. “I was in love once, unrelated to any God. Unconditional love was blinding. When you can’t hear the hum of death, you believe what you’re shown and that feels like enough, until it isn’t. And, y’know, you’ll continue to be blind for a while after that. But you’ll come to your senses soon enough. It’s dreadful.”

Something akin to understanding flashes across her features for the smallest second and a swell of nausea pools in his belly.

“Would you like me to pray for you?”

Please. “No. That’s quite alright.”

It’s dark outside. Perhaps he should journey home, wherever home may be tonight. There’s a little voice inside of him that sends him home to Vader’s arms, but when he finally grows brave enough to walk the path, his feet don’t know the dance, in fact, they only know the ending. Not the fabricated lie he’s been replaying as though it could be a nightmare that he’ll wake up any second from, but the true ending, the one where he’s hollow and alone and burdened by the loss of all he knows. The one where there's truly nowhere to go.

Rest in peace, he thinks, more towards himself than Vader.