Thank you for the kind reviews. I tried not to leave you hanging too long, but this one was hard to write for some reason. I hope you enjoy. -T.
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The first seizure happened just as she landed the ship, the medical crew waiting tensely on the open, windswept landing platform of Y'bur.
She shrieked Luke's name, slapping the switch for the ramp to lower, and grabbing for the Jedi's flailing injured arm. "He's right here," she snapped to the surge of medics behind her, a sea of cobalt uniforms flooding up the ramp, splashing through the water on the deck to surround Luke, pushing her out of the way.
The second seizure occurred in triage, as they ran a blood sample through the computer to identify the venom. A holo image of the creature that had attacked them appeared on the display, outlined in blue, just as the medical gurney suddenly began shaking violently, its occupant white with shock and completely catatonic.
"A Theresu," one of the medics announced, frowning at the computer. Then a mutter of, "That can't be right."
Mara, standing nearby, hugging her damp arms to herself in the cold of the room, purposefully turned from the sight of Luke convulsing on the gurney, medics seizing his head and limbs to keep him from falling, a massive lump in her throat. Luke's presence in the Force was strangely, disconcertingly absent.
"That was the creature," she answered the medic at the computer, her nails digging into her palm.
The woman turned to her. "You say he was bitten five hours ago? No human on record has survived a Theresu bite without antivenom past seventy-three minutes."
Another seizure followed thirty minutes after he'd been given the antivenom, a medical droid pressing the hypospray to his neck and warning blandly that they might be too late to see any positive effects. The next few hours would tell.
Then all they could do was wait, steering the repulsor gurney with its accompanying entourage of monitors and IVs to intensive care, Mara allowed to follow unobtrusively behind.
From her chair in the corner of the room, she thought she should call Solo. He would want to know about Luke.
"It looks bad," she admitted over the com, cringing inwardly, as though she had been tasked with caring for Luke, and was calling to admit her failure. "No one will tell me what his chances are."
Over the comlink, she could hear Solo's colorful string of curse words. It was, she recognized, a sign that the Corellian cared deeply about his friend. "I'm in the Sennex sector," he told her. "If we leave now, we can make it in twenty hours - maybe less if we cut past Van Jeusta."
Then, for all the panicked rushing around, the only thing she could do was wait. She sat in heavy silence in the corner chair pulled up to the side of the high bed, listening to the strange rhythmic hiss of the ventilator keeping Luke alive, eyeing the med droid on the other side warily as it attended unobtrusively to its patient, wondering darkly what pronunciation of doom it might decree next.
Her hand found Luke's under the thin white blanket. It was cold and slack. She curled her fingers around his, hoping to warm him back to life. "Stay with me, Luke," she whispered, her voice so quiet not even the droid could hear.
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Eight hours and someone brought her some soup. Fifteen hours and she remembered she was still wearing a tattered, bloodied tunic and oversized combat shoes, and found her way back to the refuge of her ship to find a change of clothes. She stopped at the water pooled in the hold and remembered she had intended to clean it up hours ago.
There was something satisfying about numbing away the pain through repetitive work. She spent a deliberate hour mopping up the mess by hand. Finally showering and changing from the stiff, dried clothes she had lived in for the past several days, she forced herself, again, to eat something. Feeling considerably more human, she stumbled back to the med-center and the half-lit hospital room, her chair pushed as close as possible to Luke's side.
I'm sorry, she thought to the inert form on the bed, seeing his chest rise and fall evenly below the off-white coverlet. His mind was quiet and still. I'm sorry for all the time I wasted when we could have spent it together.
She leaned past the nest of wires surrounding him, and kissed him gently on the forehead.
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Solo found her asleep in the chair, head resting on drawn-up knees, her hand still twined with Luke's. He wisely chose not to comment when she groggily lifted her head and stared at him uncomprehendingly for a full fifteen seconds.
"You look like hell, Jade," he told her. "Go back to your ship and get some real sleep. I'll be here with him."
She did not argue, staggering back through the corridors to crawl into her bed on the Fire for the first time in so long, it felt alien; too exhausted to even cry herself to sleep.
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The sound that pulled her from oblivion was the steady ping of the com notification. Her first thought was to ignore it until it went away. But it didn't go away.
"Yes?" She was hardly at her best as she answered the com, hair disheveled and eyes bloodshot as she stepped into the vid pickup. It was only when she saw the face staring back at her that she startled into full wakefulness.
"Karrde?" she gaped. "You're alive? Where - what - ?"
"Mara." Her boss looked his usual impeccable self. His expression was concerned though, a furrow between his brows. "I've been trying to reach you for days. Is everything okay? Where are you?"
"I…" Mara sank down into the chair, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. For a long moment she couldn't remember the name of the planet they were on. Another moment to think of a reply to is everything okay? "We're on Y'Bur. We left Bonaden a few days ago."
She frowned back at Karrde. He didn't look as though he were under duress, or being held hostage. Kergstin must have been bluffing, the krething, son of a... She swallowed, and regained her composure. "We ran into a little trouble. Forder's men…It was a setup, all of it."
"What happened?" Karrde demanded, his tone the opposite of the imperturbable demeanor Mara was used to. "Why haven't you answered your com?"
"We - I'm safe now," she assured him, though the guilt flooded through her suddenly at realizing she was the only one who had emerged from dealing with Forder's organization relatively unscathed. "But...Skywalker and Chin..."
The furrowed brow again, freshly confused. "Skywalker? Is he with you? Where's Chin?"
Slowly the story tumbled out - Chin's death, Mara's imprisonment at the hands of Forder's men. "Skywalker broke me out," she finished helplessly. "We managed to escape to the mountains. It was days before we were able to get back to the ship and get away."
Karrde's expression was grim, frozen in a grimace. He did not take the lives of his associates lightly. Her boss was not an openly emotional man, so it took reading the more subtle cues for her to see it: the news of Chin's death was hitting him hard.
Mara squinted at the image in front of her, her thoughts going involuntarily again to the brutal way Chin had been murdered, shot a second time when the first shot had not done the job. There was nothing she could have done to prevent it, but that did not stop her mind from running the possible alternate scenarios through her head anyway.
"They told me they had found you," she said quietly. "I thought you and the crew were likely dead."
Karrde pursed his lips, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, blinking rapidly. "If everything had gone according to plan, I suppose we would be. An implanted explosive device blew the hyperdrive, stranding us in space for a time. I'm sure we have Forder to thank for that little gift as well." He paused. "We're fortunate a portion of the device malfunctioned or I wouldn't be talking to you right now."
Another lengthy silence followed, Mara rubbing at the rock-hard tension in her shoulders, aware that a massive headache was creeping up on her. Whatever amount of sleep she had been allowed by having Solo sit in for her for a bit, it hadn't been enough. She needed to get back to Luke and make sure he was doing okay.
"I am sorry we couldn't come to your aid," Karrde finished, his voice tinged with remorse. "And for putting you in such a dangerous position."
Mara didn't know what to say to that. She dropped her gaze to the workstation. Chin was dead and Luke was unconscious in a backwater planet intensive care unit. Not exactly the most stellar mission she'd ever accomplished at her boss's request.
"This isn't your fault," she offered quietly, half to herself.
He brushed aside her consolation, visually re-setting. "And what of Forder?" He asked, still frowning. Mara knew it was with good reason that he wanted to know. Calais Forder was nothing if not vindictive. If he was still alive, they needed to be on the alert.
"I don't know," she answered honestly. "We destroyed his compound in the process of getting the ship back. I don't know if he escaped."
Karrde looked nonplussed. "You destroyed it?" he echoed, eyebrows raised. "You and Skywalker?"
She nodded.
Her boss muttered something she didn't hear about "Jedi", and then aloud said, "So we might want to watch our backs."
She nodded again, her mind going again to Skywalker, lying unconscious and vulnerable in the small hospital room. Stang, how come she hadn't thought of that? Forder might still be alive, and yet she had left Luke unguarded except for an unsuspecting Solo at his bedside.
Karrde was speaking again. It took Mara a moment to register what he had been saying. "...Regroup and meet us at the shipyards in Kuat," he finished. "As soon as possible."
She jolted back to the present. "I'm sorry," she shook her head to clear it, her thoughts still on the need to get back to Luke. What if he had taken a turn for the worse in the night? What if Forder had tracked them down already? She hadn't taken any precautions in hiding the identity of her ship, even though she knew better. Forder could have easily slapped a homing beacon on the ship without her knowing. In the scramble to get Luke medical attention, she hadn't thought of any of those things. "Can you repeat that?"
Karrde frowned, peering at her now through the vid pickup. "Mara, are you okay?"
She straightened, running a hand again through her disheveled hair. "Yes, I'm sorry. Just...sleep-deprived."
"You said you're on Y'bur?"
She glanced around her, at the stark lines of her beloved ship. Thanks to Luke, she had her ship again. Thanks to Luke she was still alive. He had saved her life more than once back on Bonadan. And she had lashed out at him several times and accused him of using her as a romantic rebound. And now she regretted every single word. "We came here to get Skywalker to the med-center."
Karrde frowned again, concern seeping into his blue eyes. "I see. Are his injuries serious?"
A lump formed in Mara's throat. She swallowed it back, thinking of Luke, his third seizure on the gurney and the slope-shouldered medic who had snapped testily that he could not possibly give her a prognosis.
She took a deep breath, steeling her resolve. "Yes, it's serious. Solo is with him right now, but I - " she broke off, not sure how to explain to Karrde, or, hell, even to herself, the strange anxiety nestled in the pit of her stomach.
Karrde was still frowning, as if trying to work something out. Mara felt uncomfortably as if he was peering right through her. "I see," he said finally.
Mara did not know what he meant by that, but took the moment to pull herself together. "I can leave for Kuat in a few hours," she assured him. "Like I said, Solo is here. He can take care of things with Skywalker."
Karrde's eyebrows arched, something knowing in his eyes. "You're sure."
She nodded, moving quickly to sign off. This conversation was getting more and more uncomfortable by the minute.
It was only once she had battented the ship, walking through the dry, cold wind to the med-center entrance that she swore to herself. The timing of this was rotten. Why did every decision she made have to feel like a test of loyalty? Her job was important, and Karrde needed her help.
But Luke was also important.
Mara entered the building, striding through the corridors, feeling inexplicably heavy in both body and heart. She hadn't expected to have to leave Luke behind like this, so soon. Furthermore, she never expected she would feel so conflicted about it.
The door to Luke's room was open, affording her a glance inside before she was seen. Solo was standing next to the medical bed, hands on hips, gaze to the floor, his low-slung gunbelt holstering his blaster. After another moment, Mara realized he was talking to someone - the medical droid? - running a tired hand across his face. An audible growl, and she realized it was the Wookiee. He nodded at whatever the Wookiee said next. Then, in an unexpected gesture, he reached over to Luke to gently re-tuck the blanket around the Jedi's shoulder.
A better pair of bodyguards probably couldn't be found. She realized that. And yet...
Mara stepped into the room, clearing her throat. The room smelled of bacta and sterile dressings. Solo turned without surprise, smiling tightly. He looked a little more disheveled than he had when she had last seen him. "Hey, Mara."
Chewbacca growled his own greeting, standing close to the foot of Luke's bed.
"Did you get some rest?"
She nodded quickly, rounding the bed to Luke's right side, her eyes scanning quickly for any sign of change or improvement. "Yes, thank you."
The cranial wires had gone, though his features were still pale white, his eyes closed. Solo gestured, pointing out the other thing she had noticed. "They took him off the ventilator, which is progress, they say."
She nodded again, her hand going to Luke's bandaged arm in an attempt to reach out to him, to find him through the Force. "That's good," she whispered.
"And that earned him an all-night dunk in the bacta tank."
She grimaced, remembering how much Luke despised bacta treatment. And yet he had a propensity for finding himself frequently in situations where he stood in need of it. Just as well he was unconscious for this one, she supposed. "Has he woken?"
Even as she spoke, she reached out to mentally track him down. His presence hummed just below consciousness, warm, and alive. A wave of relief unexpectedly swept over her; the realization that he was going to be okay.
Solo chewed his lip. "Not yet."
She let her hand drift to his head, his hair damp from the bacta. The bloodied gash on his temple from his fight with the Theresu was gone, as was the jagged, scabbed wound across his forehead.
A surge of emotion from behind her made her glance sharply back to Solo. The smuggler was studying her, a faint smile twisting his mouth. She stepped back, feeling suddenly awkward. "What?"
Solo shrugged noncommittally, moving to sit casually in the chair, still pulled up near the bed, seemingly unfazed that she had picked up on his emotion through the Force. "It's nothing. Just an observation."
First Karrde, now Solo? What was everyone's problem this morning? "About what?" She snapped, her features darkening into a scowl.
The smuggler didn't appear to be the least bit cowed by her sudden change in demeanor. He met her gaze straight-on, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. "You care for him," he answered, with a nod toward Luke. "Don't you?"
She felt defensive suddenly. "Of course I care for him," she shot back testily. "I'm not heartless. We're good friends. I feel bad about what happened - it was my fault he was there in the first place. I - "
"No, that's not what I mean." Solo shook his head, laughing shortly to himself, leaning back in the chair and folding his arms across his chest. Again, Mara saw that same knowing look that had been on Karrde's face, not twenty minutes before. "You care for Luke Skywalker. More than just as a friend."
Mara glanced down now, her face burning. "You're delusional, Solo," she snapped, folding her arms, though it was a defensive gesture, and she knew it.
The smuggler laughed again, not fooled for a moment by her denial. "Am I?" He asked, his tone cocky. Apparently he had it all figured out. "The real question is, does Luke know how you feel?"
She opened her mouth to defend herself, to deny again that there was anything between her and Luke Skywalker. Because even if there was, the last person she would admit it to would be Luke's brother-in-law.
"Do you think Luke can't tell what other people are thinking or feeling?" she shot back. "He reads minds, for crying out loud."
Solo scoffed. "I think Luke has no clue what he's thinking or feeling half the time, so no, I don't have a lot of faith that he'll figure it out." He cocked a finger at her. "But you haven't answered my question."
Mara clamped her mouth shut, her thoughts going back to that moment under the rocky outcropping, where she and Luke had huddled under the emergency blanket. The air practically hummed with the electricity between them. He had kissed her - It had been fireworks and a supernova from her scalp all the way down to her toes. It was only when her panicked thoughts caught up to her that she had pushed him away and accused him of using her for a rebound relationship.
But, truthfully, if she were being really, very honest with herself, she was falling for Luke Skywalker. Falling for him hard. Losing sleep for him. Jeopardizing her job for him. Worrying for him.
She glanced surreptitiously at Solo, at the smug, self-congratulatory expression on his face. Was it so obvious to everyone but her?
Did Luke know how she felt? "I don't know," she answered out loud, gazing down again at Luke. "It's...complicated."
Solo's smirk melted into a full-fledged grin, and he relaxed back into the chair, spreading his arms. "What's complicated about it?" he demanded. "You two have been right for each other for years. Now you both can realize it and move on with your lives."
She frowned, uncomfortable hearing relationship advice from the smuggler. "We have?"
"Trust me. Right, Chewie? Didn't I call it years ago?"
A short bark from the Wookiee.
"You did?" Mara repeated, completely baffled at this turn of the conversation, glancing from Solo to Chewbacca, feeling cornered somehow.
"You need to tell him," Solo continued, turning serious. "The kid needs something to hang on to. A reason for existing again."
Mara scowled at both of them in turn, spreading her hands defensively. "Okay, enough with the relationship advice, Solo. This is getting weird." She held up a restraining hand as the smuggler moved to speak. "I can understand that you are Luke's friend and want the best for him. As do I," she added. "But he is coming off a terrible breakup. He doesn't need this kind of pressure from you, me, or anyone else. What he needs is to rest and to heal," she waved to encompass the room. "From all of this."
Mara squared her shoulders. Suddenly the request to leave for the shipyards at Kuat didn't seem like such a terrible option. "Besides," she blurted, the decision still only halfway settled in her mind. "I'm leaving for Kuat tonight."
Solo twisted in his chair. "What? Why?"
"Karrde needs me there. It's my job." She was determined not to feel guilt about her decision. "The timing is terrible, but I just received the call a little bit ago."
"But you have to leave, right now?" Solo was on his feet again, turned toward her. Mara edged back to the door, the small room suddenly feeling much smaller than it had a minute ago.
"In a few hours, yes," she replied, gesturing over to Luke with one hand. "I'm not leaving him alone. That's what you two are here for. Keep watch. Stand guard. Forder might yet be alive, and if he is, he has a major ax to grind against Luke now."
Solo actually looked affronted. "And you don't think that merits sticking around a little longer until the kid is back on his feet?"
She glared. She did not want to be talked out of the decision she had just made. "Don't try to guilt-trip me into this, Solo."
They were suddenly interrupted by a bark from Chewbacca, the Wookiee edging close to Luke's bedside. The message was clear: their arguing was getting a little out of hand.
Short-fused and tired, with that headache still ratcheting its way around her skull, Mara huffed a sigh of exasperation and found a seat on the low couch by the room's small window, the steady beeping of the monitors fading into the background as she let her gaze drift to the windswept rooftop beyond the medcenter, wondering how she could feel so torn between her loyalty to Karrde's organization and the unconscious man lying five feet away in the medical bed.
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It was late in the day when one of the monitors suddenly dropped in pitch from a high-toned pip to a low one. Mara, who had nearly drifted off to sleep again, jolted upright. It took her a moment to realize that Luke was stirring, attempting to raise a hand to his face before dropping it weakly back to his chest instead.
"Luke!" Solo beamed from his chair, dropping his feet from where they were propped against the plasteel bed rail to the floor, and standing up to lean over the Jedi, his hand a heavy weight on his friend's shoulder. "You're awake already? How're you feeling?"
Luke frowned without answering, belated confusion registering on his features. He coughed, raising his hand again, this time as the confusion began building into frustration in his sense in the Force.
Mara stood, her eyes darting to Chewbacca, who had stationed himself in the corridor, just past the door, bowcaster at the ready, prepared to vet all entrants to the room. The wookiee saw her look and gained his feet, reentering the room with a soft growl.
"Hey kid, go easy," Solo placated Luke, who was now pawing at the IV taped to his wrist, attempting to roll to his left side as he did so. The smuggler placed a restraining hand again on Luke's shoulder. "You're safe here. Just lie still." Mara moved to the foot of the bed.
"Mara's here, kid," Solo added, his eyes going to her with a quick nod for her to take his place at the bedside, probably hoping her presence would calm him down.
Mara stepped into Luke's line of vision, aware of Solo's and the Wookiee's eyes on her. "Hi Luke," she murmured, forcing a smile.
Luke's agitation seemed to increase. He was moving to sit up now, throwing off the white coverlet, sweat beading on his forehead.
"Hey, hey kid, relax," Solo ordered sharply, stepping in close to Mara to lay another restraining arm on his friend's shoulder. "Chewie?"
Luke was in no shape to throw them all off, exclaiming in frustration as three pairs of hands pushed him back into the give of the bed. Mara reached out to the Force to him, projecting as much calm and reassurance as she could offer, her hand firmly grasping his wrist. Solo was still talking Luke down, while the Wookiee trailed a heavy paw across the Jedi's forehead in what, Mara recognized, was supposed to be a gesture of comfort.
Two medics noisily entered the room behind them. After a few more minutes of coaxing, Luke, all wired tension and confusion, seemed to register that he was safe, and sagged, unresisting, back down again. Mara sank into the chair next to him, while Solo and Chewie stepped deferentially back to the edge of the room. The medics bustled around Luke, checking the IVs, shining a little pin light in his eyes, and asking him how he would rate his pain.
When Luke didn't answer, Mara cleared her throat. "He's nauseous," she supplied, glancing over at Luke, meeting his eyes. One of the medics frowned at her, and shoved an emesis bag into her hands.
The other medic sat the bed up slightly, eyeing the readouts and adding a clear bag of fluid to the IV stand. Luke looked pale, and slightly green. Mara, still sitting in the chair next to him, hesitantly reached her hand across the four-inches distance to his, to offer...what? Comfort? An apology for what she was going to have to tell him soon about leaving to Kuat? She did not know.
She looked down in surprise to see his fingers promptly close around hers, warm and calloused, his sense in the Force suddenly amplified, as though someone had turned up the volume. She stared down at their entwined hands, her heart in her throat, and couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes.
Did he know how she felt about him? Solo's accusing question rang in her ears.
The medics left in a flurry as quickly as they had arrived, after which Luke promptly dry-heaved into the bag they had handed out. Solo busied himself getting some water while Mara rubbed the Jedi's back, offering what little comfort she could as he continued vomiting.
When everything eventually settled down and he sagged back against the pillows, his forehead covered with a damp cloth Chewie had procured from somewhere, Luke finally mumbled, "Where are we?"
Mara fussed with the thin blanket that had been kicked aside, pulling it back across his legs. The room was cool, and she could tell he was getting cold. "Y'bur," she answered. "Not far from Bonaden. We've been here for a couple days."
"I heard you destroyed Forder's compound," Solo added from his new perch against the wall. "Nice work there."
"Unless we missed Forder himself," Mara added sourly. "In which case, we just added a giant target to our backs."
She heard Luke sigh tiredly, a slight grimace on his features. One more thing to worry about. She studied him for a moment, wondering if they should avoid burdening him with stressful news. To her surprise, he smiled slightly, peering up at her. "Well...we like to keep things interesting, don't we Mara?"
Mara felt her face turn red. She glanced quickly away, frowning. "You don't seem too concerned about it," she retorted, with more fire than she had intended.
"Because he's missing the self-preservation gene," Solo put in glumly, scowling at the Jedi. "It's his way."
Mara glanced back at the smuggler, gratefully he had apparently missed her reaction to Luke's comment, and wishing fervently he would take his leave of the room for even a few minutes so she could talk to Luke alone. She was interrupted from that thought, scrambling instead for the small basin on the bedside table, when Luke started vomiting again.
"Are we even yet?" Luke asked afterwards, peering up at her after she had leaned the bed back into a supine position. "Cleaning up after me seems like it is above and beyond the call of duty."
Mara smirked, sitting back down in the chair, stretching an aching back. "We were even a while ago, Skywalker," she answered, thinking back to the overwhelming sense of indebtedness that had plagued her back in that cave. "These are billable hours."
She had the satisfaction of seeing him laugh. When was the last time she had witnessed that? She could not remember. Even Solo raised his eyebrows.
Then came the inevitable question, "So, when can we get out of here?"
"Soon, kid," Han answered, coming around the other side of the bed again. "When you're better. Be patient."
Another sigh. Mara exchanged a glance with Solo, aware now that Luke was awake, much of their time would be spent arguing with him to rest. Patience was not a Skywalker trait.
She cleared her throat. "I - I have to tell you, Luke," she began hesitantly, voice tinged with regret. "This is bad timing, but...I have to leave for Kuat in a few hours."
Luke rolled his head on the pillow toward her, a frown on his features. She could sense his surprise and...was it dismay? "Why?"
"Karrde is there - he's safe, but his ship sustained some damage."
Eyebrows arched. There was concern there, for Karrde and his crew. "Forder?" he asked.
She nodded. "I'm...sorry to leave you like this."
He wasn't angry. "No, you need to go." He coughed again. "Who knows? Maybe in a few hours I'll be feeling better, and I can discharge myself and come with you."
Mara arched her eyebrows. From the other side of the bed, Solo growled, "will you knock it off already, kid, and just rest?"
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Two hours later, a medic shooed Luke's visitors from his room. "He can't get the rest he needs with three people hovering over him," she said sternly.
Han looked annoyed, resisting being herded to the door. "He can't have the bodyguard he needs if someone can't be in the room with him," he shot back.
Mara gave the smuggler a warning look. Making the medic angry would not help things. They would get kicked out of the medcenter altogether.
Luke was silent from the bed, which was probably telling. He hadn't figured a polite way to dismiss his visitors either, but if the dark rings under his eyes were any indicator, he needed to sleep.
In the ruckus caused by Solo and Chewbacca, Mara tried to snatch the last few seconds alone with Luke before she too was politely, but firmly, directed out. She caught his hand again, giving it a firm goodbye squeeze.
"I hope you can forgive me for leaving at a time like this," she mumbled, feeling almost ashamed. "You can accuse me of running away, and it would be true."
Luke looked surprised, turning his head on the pillow again to face her. "I wouldn't accuse you of running away," he murmured. "I know you have loyalty to Karrde and your job. I'm not threatened by that."
It was the fact that the whole thing was further complicated by her and Luke and what their next step was. Mara was looking for an escape from the ambiguity, and deep down she knew it.
"Besides," Luke told her, declining to comment on that train of thought. "I'm not helpless. I have Han and Chewie in the next room." He peered into her eyes, his hand momentarily lingering over hers. "Don't let Han's comments get to you. He gets overprotective sometimes."
She decided not to ask how he knew that Han had questioned her loyalty earlier. The comments still stung.
She simply nodded. It seemed so anticlimactic for things to end this way. After spending the better part of the past few weeks alone together, they would go back to occasional run-ins on Coruscant and sporadic delivery drop-offs on Yavin. She felt a sudden, inexplicable pang of loss. She was going to miss him.
"Okay," she reluctantly freed her hand. How odd that hand-holding had suddenly in the past few hours become an acceptable mode of connection. How many times had she reached for his hand and how many times had he reciprocated? Was this what they were now? Old friends who held hands? Or was it simply because Luke was injured and vulnerable, which inclined Mara more to hovering and finding physical connection she might not have otherwise sought?
She sighed, shutting her eyes briefly. It was time to stop over-thinking.
The medic was returning to usher her from the room. Mara composed her smile, offering it brightly to Luke. "Take care of yourself," she told him.
He lifted his hand awkwardly in a wave. "I guess I'll...see you around."
Mara glanced back, aware of the impatience of the medic behind her. Impulsively, she leaned down to pull Luke into a quick hug, brushing her lips across his cheek before he could react. Her voice was dusky, inexplicably charged with emotion as she whispered in his ear. "Goodbye, Luke."
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