Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.

Author's Note: I already had this written prior to the accident, so it may be a while until I update the story after this. It depends upon how things are and/or how I'm feeling.

Luke had an awful dream. He dreamt he was on Hoth, and he fell into a frozen lake. Timmy the Tauntaun couldn't save him. His mouth was filling with water, and he was drowning.

He woke up yelling for Aunt Beru and choking. A dustbunny had flown up his nose and down his throat.

Aunt Beru came into his room with a drink of water, and Luke felt terrible for waking her up. "Your uncle's already up, sweetheart," Aunt Beru smiled. "He's out milking the cows."

Luke mumbled something about crazy people waking up at the crack of dawn, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

Beru shook her head, smiled, and tucked her nephew in. She went back to her room to get another hour of sleep before it was time to make breakfast.

A while later, Owen and Beru were sitting down to breakfast together. Beru had asked Luke, as she did every morning, if he wanted to join them for breakfast or if he wanted his own.

Luke just threw his stuffed tauntaun at the door and grumbled that he was still sleepy.

"How's Luke this morning?" Owen asked.

"Being his usual moody self," Beru chuckled. "Owen, that kid was not meant to be a farmer. Ten hours of sleep still isn't enough for him."

"He's sick, Beru. Just let him sleep."

"I know."

The doorbell rang, and Luke's aunt and uncle just stared at each other. "Who on earth could that be at this hour?" Beru wondered aloud, getting up from the table.

It was Mark Fisher, Luke's best friend. He lived not too far away from Luke's aunt and uncle, and had ridden his bike to the Lars farm.

"Hi, Mrs. Lars. I brought Luke some comic books," Mark smiled. Like Luke, he had messy hair and warm smile, although Luke's hair was blonde and Mark's was a light brown. "Is he up yet?"

"I'm not sure, Mark, honey. I'll check."

Up in his room, Luke was still in a grumpy mood until his aunt came in. "Luke," Beru said gently. "Your friend is at the door. He brought you some comic books."

Luke sat up in bed. For the first time in weeks, he was smiling. "Really?"

"I asked Marilou to the movies."

"Are you serious?" Luke was wide-eyed. He and Mark were sitting on Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen's living room sofa; Mark in regular clothes and Luke in his pajamas. Mark had been wanting to ask Marilou- one of Leia's best friends- out for almost an entire year now. "How was it?"

"I don't know. We haven't gone yet; we can't decide which movie we want to see. She doesn't want to see Earth Destroyers Part IV, and I refuse to see Not Just Another Chick Flick."

"Poor marketing," Luke commented. "If they think they can get guys into the movie by giving it a name like that, then they are sorely mistaken. I'm willing to bet ten bucks that it IS another chick flick."

"Hmmm," Mark nodded in agreement, scratching his chin. He picked up the comic book he had been reading. "So, how did Timmy get laser vision?"

"When Timmy was just a little tauntaun, his mother died of exposure trying to save a human colonist from the cold. Timmy managed to drag the human into safety, and the human turned out to be some kind of Hoth god in disguise. He gave Timmy laser vision to start fires and cook food. And fight the Wampa. It explains it all in volume 3."

"Does he have any other powers?"

"Yeah, he secretes oil that has healing powers. All tauntauns secrete oil, but Timmy's is special."

"Boys, it's time for breakfast," Aunt Beru smiled, coming into the living room with two bowls of Space-O's on a tray. "Mark, maybe you can be a good example for Luke by finishing all of your cereal."

Mark, who had already had two bowls of Space-O's that morning, but had an appetite like a bottomless pit, eagerly dug into another one. Luke just kind of picked at his food for a while, and then shoveled mouthfuls in little by little.

"My mom's on my back to get new clothes for school," Mark continued, talking with his mouth full. "I told her I don't need any, but she says all of my jeans have holes in them."

Luke shrugged. "So?"

"I know. I don't get it. What's wrong with jeans that have holes in them?"

Aunt Beru was straightening up the living room. She listened to Mark, and shook her head. "I don't know, Mark, maybe because they look silly."

"It's the style," Mark argued. "I want to look cool."

"But what about when it gets cold outside? Then you'll just look silly."

"We could trade jeans," Luke shrugged. "You can take all of mine, and I could take all of yours. Then we'll both have new jeans."

Mark grinned. "That's a great idea!"

"How about I just take all of your holey jeans and repair them?" Aunt Beru offered.

Mark shoveled more Space-O's into his mouth. "Naw, I like Luke's idea better."

Aunt Beru just shook her head. Boys.

After lunch, Luke fell under the seduction of his medicine, and usually conked right out. As he slept in his room, his aunt sat in her sewing room and patched up all of his holey jeans.

Beru didn't blame Anakin Skywalker for how he turned out. As she reminded Owen several times, Anakin grew up basically in underground poverty. His mother worked long hours in a scrap yard for very little pay, and Anakin's father was completely out of the picture. Anakin himself never went to school as a child, one because he didn't have a birth certificate, and two because his family needed him to work for money. All around him was gambling and other illegal activity. The authorities weren't even aware that Anakin Skywalker existed until he was nine years old.

Therefore, Anakin didn't trust the authorities. He didn't think that he was above the law, but he thought it very unlikely that if he did something wrong that he would be caught.

Luke understood that, and so did Leia, but Luke's main issue was that he couldn't believe his father would abandon him to relatives. That's why he had become so depressed.

Beru glanced to one of the many pictures of Luke in the room. Luke was about three or four, blonde hair flying everywhere, his mouth fixed in a happy smile as he wrapped his arms around his father's legs. Not a care in the world, not a cuter face could be found.

"Don't worry, Luke," Beru whispered, finger caressing the blonde hair in the picture. "I'll protect you, sweetheart."

From the next room, a cry rose up as her nephew complained that his stomach hurt.

Beru smiled and rose up from her desk. Another opportunity to show Luke that he was loved.

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