After a long while, Han crept forward to check on his friend. The kid's breathing was shallow, but steady, which was a relief. His face, however, didn't look so good. The wounds weren't bleeding, but they were deep. Han doubted even the miraculous bacta was going to fix all of the wounds without leaving scars.
"Hey, they build character, kid. Besides, women love them." Han said to the younger man with a chuckle. But then in a more serious voice, he asked, "Do they hurt much?"
Luke didn't answer, not that Han expected him to. With a gentleness, that amazed even the smuggler, Han brushed the hair out of Luke's face to get a better look. He didn't like what he felt. He laid his hand on Luke's forehead. Han was no doctor, nor had he had much medical training, but he didn't like the fact that Luke felt so cold, even out of the wind and wrapped in a hide.
Yeah, it was as cold in there as Tatooine was hot, but still, Luke should be warming up by now.
This is not good.
"Come on buddy, I didn't almost become an icicle for you to die on me. It's only a few more hours more until daylight, and then we can get out of here. I just need you to hang on."
Han continued to hold his hand on Luke's forehead as if trying to pass some of his own heat into Luke. Although the smuggler had never stopped thinking of the younger man as 'the kid', in the years they had known each other, Luke had grown into a man. But tonight, he looked less like a seasoned rebel pilot and more like a young boy. A boy that had gotten beaten senseless by the neighborhood bully.
"Luke, you gotta just hang on. They need you back there. Lots of people. Your squadron, those crazy droids of yours, Leia, everybody. And I need you too; so don't even think about leaving me alone out here. I've just gotten used to not being alone, you know?"
He wondered if Luke did know. Although neither of them had ever really talked much about their pasts, both believing in Leia's idea of looking forward, never back, Han knew enough to imagine that Luke's life hadn't been any easier than his own. Han had spent enough time on Tatooine, he had heard about the rough and lonely lives of the moisture farmers, toiling day after day, just barely eking out an existence among the endless sand dunes. He also knew that Luke had lost the only family he'd ever known. Luke hadn't shared that last tidbit until one night merely weeks ago when he, Leia, Han, and Chewie had whiled away a boring night playing sabacc and drinking. Luke was bad at it, Leia actually quite good. They also had found out that all three of them were orphans. Leia had actually been orphaned before the destruction of her planet, she remembered her mother's death and had been raised by her widowed father. Neither Han nor Luke had remembered their own parents. Amazing that three completely different people could have such similar backgrounds and become such good friends. Although of course the smuggler and the princess of the group really needed the farm boy between them to keep things civil. Han had learned that just that afternoon.
"Luke, I got something serious to tell you. I told Leia this afternoon that I was leaving."
Han paused as if waiting for Luke's response. When he realized that nothing was coming, he continued. "I have to, you know that. Jabba's put a death mark on my head. That bounty hunter was too close. Along with saving my own hide, I gotta think about you and Leia. She doesn't get that, but I'm sure you do. Wherever I am, my friends are also going to be marks. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if either of you got hurt because of me. I'm even endangering what you are doing here. And for whatever strange reason, I don't want that to happen. The Alliance is important and one smuggler's problems shouldn't bring it down. But you know I'm coming back for you, right Luke? I came back when you were facing the Death Star. At the time, I wasn't sure why. Oh sure, Chewie talked a good game and the idea of fame was a good draw. But mostly it was for you. There's something about you, kid. You're like nobody I've ever known before. Everyone else has always wanted something from me or I've wanted something from them. That even includes Chewie and Leia, though we won't go into that. But you, you don't need anything from me. You're just my friend, my best friend. I'm coming back; I'll always come back. That's why I'm here right now, because I couldn't leave you out here. I know you'd do the same for me. But I still have to go, I've stayed too long as it is."
Luke suddenly moaned, the first sound that Han had heard from him in hours.
"Luke! Hey, that's what I want to hear."
Luke barely opened his eyes squinting in the darkness. "Han?"
"Yeah, you gave me quite a scare there."
"Cold. So cold." Luke whispered. Then he began shivering uncontrollably.
Han looked around the tent. Luke was wrapped in the hide, with a terminal blanket from the supply kit over that. There simply wasn't another thing to put over him except for Han's own clothes and he needed them if he was going to keep from freezing himself. Just one thing left . . ..
"Oh Sith." Han swore. "Just let it be known that I wouldn't do this for just anyone."
Han lifted the blanket and the hide and slipped in next to Luke. He swore again in Corellian, that hide still stunk; off hand he couldn't think of anything worse, except maybe that trash compactor on the Death Star. Luke was whimpering, a return of consciousness also became a return to the pain of his injuries.
Han wrapped his arms around his friend. It was awkward for him, demonstrations of affection were generally brief for him, except with Chewie and that was never his choice. But Luke had to get warm somehow. Luke pressed against Han's chest, was still somewhat delirious. He muttered names, some of which Han knew, some of which he didn't. Ben, Beru, Yoda, Camie, Leia.
"It's going to be okay, Luke, it's going to be okay." Han repeated over and over again until Luke had finally calmed down.
Warmer now, Luke fell into what Han hoped was sleep. His arms still firmly wrapped around his friend, the smuggler finally let himself drift off to sleep.
The stream of light coming through the tent walls awakened Han. Morning, they had made it to morning. He untangled himself from Luke and the layers of bedding, and then checked on his friend. The younger man was still asleep, but he felt warmer, his breathing steady. He was going to make it. Han just had to figure out a way to get them back from wherever here was.
He turned on his commlink once more, trying to summon anyone. He had a feeling that they were out of range. He just had to hope that someone would come looking for them.
He grabbed a ration bar, checked on Luke once more then hiked outside the tent with the commlink, trying to get a better signal.
After what seemed like ages, he finally got something, it was grainy and full of static but it sounded like "Echo Three, this is Rogue Two. Do you copy? Commander Skywalker this is Rogue Two."
"Nice of you guys to drop by. Hope we didn't get you up too early." Han answered.
Han ducked back inside the tent. "Luke! Put on something pretty because company is coming."
Luke merely moaned.
Han knelt by his friend. "They've come to get you. We'll dump you in some bacta and you'll be as good as new. It'll be all right. I'm going back out to wave them down. I'll be right back."
Suddenly Luke spoke, his voice weak but distinct. "I know you will be. You always come back for me."
The smuggler smiled. "You know I will."
"Thank you, Han." The farm boy whispered.
"Any time, old buddy, any time. Course, next time, find a warmer planet to get yourself lost on."
Han swore he heard Luke chuckle. Han gently stroked Luke's head one last time. Then he ducked back outside to wave the pilot down.
We made it. And I'm not going anywhere.
The End
