Wedge had flown into the core of the Death Star, launched his torpedo, and was well on his way out when the thought occurred to him. Luke was going to see Vader. Luke is a Jedi. Vader will take him before the Emperor. The Emperor's on this thing. Almost before the chain finished linking in his mind, the question reared its head. Have I just killed Luke?
Fear clenched at his gut; in his mind's eye he pressed the trigger again, watched the torpedo streak out towards the north tower, watched it explode, and in his mind he saw Luke, standing above, facing the Emperor, and in his mind the throne room exploded in slow motion, Luke flung high into the air as the floor beneath him vaporized, and somehow, in Wedge's cruel mind, he thought Luke would know who fired the shot.
He shut the images out of his mind with some difficulty, forced himself to concentrate on flying out of the maze. Worry about Luke when you're on the ground.
***
Four hours later, Wedge stood in the middle of the gigantic party, the glow of the Death Star's explosion still gleaming in the sky. Is that Luke's grave marker? The thought lashed him over and over, like a nail-studded whip.
In the distance, along a bridge leading off into the darkness, Wedge spotted a motion. A motion that soon turned into a golden-haired, black-clothed Jedi.
"Luke!"
And simultaneously, "Wedge!"
The two men were in each other's arms, holding, laughing, hugging, crying, kissing. Euphoria swept over them. It was over. Wedge pulled back slightly to look at his lover, to study Luke's face in the flickering light of the bonfires. Blue eyes ringed by dark shadows, eyes that screamed "suffering!" and "victory!" at the same time.
"Well?" Wedge asked softly. "What happened?"
The smiled fled Luke's face. "I was right," he whispered. "I was right. Vader… Vader turned back to the Light. He saved my life."
Wedge's eyes widened. Vader? He knew Luke what Luke had said, that Vader still had good in him, but still…
"He died for it," Luke went on. "He died to save me. Then said I'd saved him."
Wedge, seeing the need for sympathy in Luke's eyes, wrapped the slender man in a tight embrace, which was returned wholeheartedly. They simply held each other, quietly, for several minutes, then Wedge said, "Let's join the party."
Luke nodded, and they headed over to the nearest bonfire.
****
Wedge wasn't sure of when he'd first noticed Luke trying to pull away from the
wild celebrations. No one else seemed
to see, but Wedge had been keeping an eye on Luke all evening, concerned about
his lover. He made his way over to
where Luke sat on a log bench watching everyone else dance.
"Luke, are you okay?"
Luke looked up at him, the dark circles still under his eyes.
"I'm okay, Wedge. Just exhausted. It's been a long day."
"Ain't that the truth."
Luke nodded, a quiet, subdued motion. Exhaustion was written in every line of his
body, exhaustion and something else, too. A remnant of pain. Wedge sat
down on the log next to Luke, and the Jedi accepted the tacit invitation and
leaned his head against Wedge's shoulder. Wedge could feel, through that point of contact, Luke's muscles
trembling just slightly, from fatigue. Gods
above, he thought, Luke's almost on the point of collapse.
"Are you okay?" he asked again.
Luke looked up at him, wordlessly asking if he had to tell the truth. Then he shook his head slightly and said, "No."
Wedge embraced him, holding him tightly, and Luke pressed against him, returning the gesture fiercely. "Luke," Wedge murmured softly into the Jedi's dark blond hair. "Luke."
The embrace seemed to last a long time, and when it was over, when the two men pulled apart slightly, studying each other's faces, there was a deep, visible love between them.
"Tell me what happened," Wedge said softly. "Tell me what they did to you."
Luke bit his lip, his gaze turning inward as he thought, debated with himself about what to say. Then, calmly, he began to speak, icy calm as though he was pushing back all the emotions associated with the day's events. Wedge listened, horror growing in the pit of his belly as he tried not to imagine Luke being tortured by the Emperor. As Luke continued, the relentless stream of words marching against Wedge's brain, the Corellian reached out and stroked the Jedi's gloved right hand. Luke flinched slightly, and Wedge drew him tightly into another embrace. Luke was close to tears as he finished, tears from the pain of finding his father, and losing him all in the space of a day.
"I should have saved him, Wedge. I should have—I don't know—done something." Tormented blue eyes gazed into the Corellian's deep brown, and Wedge soothed him.
"You did, Luke. You saved him. Sure, he died, but he died clean, died after turning away from Palpatine and Palpatine's evil. You may not have saved his life, but you saved his soul, and that's the best thing, I think."
But those eyes still held their torment, and Wedge leaned down slightly and kissed those tortured eyes shut, one at a time, then pressed his lips to Luke's, feeling his lover respon with an urgent need for comfort, security, and love. All of which Wedge was ready and willing to give him. Luke's hands crept around the back of Wedge's head, holding him tightly as Wedge explored the warm, familiar territory of Luke's mouth. Finally, they released the kiss, both thinking the same thing.
"The Ewoks have enough free rooms to accommodate any pilots they want to stay," Wedge said quietly. "They made that announcement before you came back. Let's go find one."
Luke grinned, a broad, healthy smile like Wedge hadn't seen since the young Jedi had lost his hand. "Let's."