Disclaimer: See previous chapter ( 'cause I don't wanna type it again!)
Warning: Whiny Luke. . hehehe, it's a Han story at Luke's expense.
A Change of Plans: Chapter 2
"You're such a softy," Han remarked to his copilot as they finally prepared to blast off from Ryall. Upon reaching the Falcon, Chewie had immediately sensed that something was wrong with the kid, and had proceeded to treat Luke like a wounded cub. Han had laughed as Luke struggled vainly against Chewie's insistent coddling while the Wookie refused be swayed by any of his arguments. In his current state, Luke was no match for an overprotective Wookie anyway, and he finally allowed himself to be picked up and carried into the Falcon, much to Han's mirth. "You really have a thing for that kid, don't ya' pal?"
Chewie growled a reply, which caused Han to bristle.
"Hey, I was never that green! By the time I was his age, I'd seen more stuff than that kid'll ever see. So don't go comparing us!" Miffed, Han returned to the Falcon's controls. "Besides," he added, "the kid whines too much."
Chewie's next response evoked laughter from the smuggler.
"Nah, he whines even when he's not sick." Han looked up from the controls to throw a backward glance toward the cabin where he hoped the kid was sleeping peacefully. Luke had protested against resting in the medical bunk, whining about how it made him feel like an invalid when he wasn't. Then, in the midst of his argument, a horrendous cough had seized him and, weakened, he finally complied. In the last half-hour, Han had come to the solid conclusion that the kid was a lousy patient. And in the past few minutes he'd come to an even more disturbing realization: that bothered him.
Pushing back the foolish notion that he could begin caring about the people he was intent on getting as far away from as possible at the earliest convenience, he focused on the task at hand. "Do we have clearance, yet?"
Chewie growled an affirmative.
"Good," Han remarked. "Let's leave this party."
Within moments, Ryall was behind them and the coordinates for the hyperspace jump to Alliance HQ had been set. Han frowned at the ETA, but there was nothing they could do about that. He gave the signal to Chewie to make the jump, and the stars out the viewport shifted into lines as the Millennium Falcon streaked through hyperspace.
Han rose from his chair and headed out of the cockpit. "I'm just gonna' let the kid know our arrival time." At Chewie's hushed comment, Han turned on his copilot with a wry grin. "No, I'm not checking up on him. That's your job, remember? One softy on this ship is enough." At that, he quickly headed aft toward the sleeping cabin.
Poking his head inside, he noted that the entire cabin and both its bunks were totally empty. Han frowned at the thought of Luke meandering around the Falcon when he was so sick and so far away from a medic. Again, Han groaned at the thought of what a lousy patient the kid was turning out to be, and headed out the cabin door to find him. When a quick search of the forward hold failed to produce any sign of Luke, he continued on toward the galley. Upon entering the portside hold, a noise from the 'fresher both alerted him to the location of his quarry, as well as to his condition.
"You okay in there, kid?" he asked, slowly approaching the closed 'fresher door.
"Uh-huh," a weak voice, barely recognizable as Luke's, replied.
Han arched an eyebrow. "You sure?" The kid certainly didn't sound okay.
In reply, the door slid open and a pale and shaky Luke emerged trying desperately to remain upright. Within seconds, he lost the struggle and would have sunk to the floor had Han not reached for him at that moment.
"Whoa, kid," Han exclaimed as he grabbed Luke under the arms and hauled him back up. "Let's get you back to the bunk."
The kid didn't put up much of a fight this time around. For that, Han was grateful. However, Luke did continue to whine.
"Why do I feel like this?" he croaked.
"Because you're sick."
"But why do I feel so terrible? I mean I was coughing back there and all of a sudden--"
"Yeah, yeah," Han quickly interjected, not wanting to hear any details. By this time they'd reached the sleeping cabin, and Han eagerly dropped Luke onto the medical bunk once more. "But that's kinda' the definition of being sick. See, if you weren't feeling bad, you'd be healthy."
As Luke slid under the covers, he began to cough again. It was a few moments before the coughing subsided and he was able to take a normal breath. "Shavit! I hate this!" he growled.
Han smiled through his concern. "Kid, I think that's the first time I've ever heard you swear."
"Well, I hate feeling like this," Luke remarked, pulling the covers up to his chin.
"Most sick people do," Han quipped in return. "After all, if you enjoyed this, that would make you a pretty twisted person."
Luke favored him with a whisper of a smile.
"So," Han pressed, "you've really never been sick?"
The kid shook his head. "I think I had a really bad fever when I was little . . .I kinda' remember Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen taking care of me. But that's really it."
"Just a healthy kinda' guy, huh?" remarked Han with a smirk.
Luke shrugged his shoulders and coughed a little. "I had enough accidents and injuries to make up for it, though."
Han laughed lightly. "Clumsy or just reckless?"
"A little of both, actually," Luke replied with a slight smile. Shifting further into the blankets he added, "Sorry, Han."
"For what?"
"For being such a pain. I'm just not used to this."
Han read an enormous amount of self-reproach in his companion's eyes, and he shifted uncomfortably. "Don't worry about it," he quipped, shrugging off the odd feelings of anxiety he was experiencing. "You should see me when I'm sick."
Luke gave a feeble laugh that turned into a more coughing before he remarked, "I doubt you're as bad as this."
"Yeah, you're right, there," joked Han in return, still feeling an uncharacteristic worry toward the young rebel. Reaching over, he gave the kid a pat on his shoulder and added, "So shut up and get some sleep, okay?"
"Sure."
Han turned to leave and was nearly out the door before he heard Luke's voice call out.
"How long 'til we reach the base?"
Slapping his hand on the door, Han turned. "I knew I was forgetting something," he said with a shake of his head. "That's what I came back here to tell you in the first place. Nine hours."
"Ugh," the kid groaned, burying his face in the pillow. "Nine hours?" his muffled voice asked in disbelief.
"It goes by quicker if you're asleep," Han suggested, turning to leave once more.
"Easy for you to say," Luke continued into the pillow.
Han regarded the young man over his shoulder for a moment before stepping out of the cabin. "If you need me, you know where to find me, kid," he called back.
"Yeah, yeah," Luke rasped as the door to the cabin slid shut.
As Han made his way back toward the cockpit, he found himself worrying about the kid's condition and hoping he didn't get any worse in the nine hours it would take to get back. Startled at the thoughts that seemed to be forming in his consciousness without his permission, Han quickly banished them. "Chewie was right," he muttered to himself. "I am getting soft." All the more reason to cut these rebels off before he really did become attached to them. He didn't need friends. He already had a Wookie copilot he'd quickly discovered he'd never rid himself of. Besides, Chewie had proven himself time and time again to be worth having along for the ride. But a stuck-up princess and a wet-behind-the ears kid were another matter entirely. Besides, caring for others could be an occupational hazard, as he'd learned in the past. Nothing was worth going through that again. And there was no way he was going to risk it. Not on his life.
Warning: Whiny Luke. . hehehe, it's a Han story at Luke's expense.
A Change of Plans: Chapter 2
"You're such a softy," Han remarked to his copilot as they finally prepared to blast off from Ryall. Upon reaching the Falcon, Chewie had immediately sensed that something was wrong with the kid, and had proceeded to treat Luke like a wounded cub. Han had laughed as Luke struggled vainly against Chewie's insistent coddling while the Wookie refused be swayed by any of his arguments. In his current state, Luke was no match for an overprotective Wookie anyway, and he finally allowed himself to be picked up and carried into the Falcon, much to Han's mirth. "You really have a thing for that kid, don't ya' pal?"
Chewie growled a reply, which caused Han to bristle.
"Hey, I was never that green! By the time I was his age, I'd seen more stuff than that kid'll ever see. So don't go comparing us!" Miffed, Han returned to the Falcon's controls. "Besides," he added, "the kid whines too much."
Chewie's next response evoked laughter from the smuggler.
"Nah, he whines even when he's not sick." Han looked up from the controls to throw a backward glance toward the cabin where he hoped the kid was sleeping peacefully. Luke had protested against resting in the medical bunk, whining about how it made him feel like an invalid when he wasn't. Then, in the midst of his argument, a horrendous cough had seized him and, weakened, he finally complied. In the last half-hour, Han had come to the solid conclusion that the kid was a lousy patient. And in the past few minutes he'd come to an even more disturbing realization: that bothered him.
Pushing back the foolish notion that he could begin caring about the people he was intent on getting as far away from as possible at the earliest convenience, he focused on the task at hand. "Do we have clearance, yet?"
Chewie growled an affirmative.
"Good," Han remarked. "Let's leave this party."
Within moments, Ryall was behind them and the coordinates for the hyperspace jump to Alliance HQ had been set. Han frowned at the ETA, but there was nothing they could do about that. He gave the signal to Chewie to make the jump, and the stars out the viewport shifted into lines as the Millennium Falcon streaked through hyperspace.
Han rose from his chair and headed out of the cockpit. "I'm just gonna' let the kid know our arrival time." At Chewie's hushed comment, Han turned on his copilot with a wry grin. "No, I'm not checking up on him. That's your job, remember? One softy on this ship is enough." At that, he quickly headed aft toward the sleeping cabin.
Poking his head inside, he noted that the entire cabin and both its bunks were totally empty. Han frowned at the thought of Luke meandering around the Falcon when he was so sick and so far away from a medic. Again, Han groaned at the thought of what a lousy patient the kid was turning out to be, and headed out the cabin door to find him. When a quick search of the forward hold failed to produce any sign of Luke, he continued on toward the galley. Upon entering the portside hold, a noise from the 'fresher both alerted him to the location of his quarry, as well as to his condition.
"You okay in there, kid?" he asked, slowly approaching the closed 'fresher door.
"Uh-huh," a weak voice, barely recognizable as Luke's, replied.
Han arched an eyebrow. "You sure?" The kid certainly didn't sound okay.
In reply, the door slid open and a pale and shaky Luke emerged trying desperately to remain upright. Within seconds, he lost the struggle and would have sunk to the floor had Han not reached for him at that moment.
"Whoa, kid," Han exclaimed as he grabbed Luke under the arms and hauled him back up. "Let's get you back to the bunk."
The kid didn't put up much of a fight this time around. For that, Han was grateful. However, Luke did continue to whine.
"Why do I feel like this?" he croaked.
"Because you're sick."
"But why do I feel so terrible? I mean I was coughing back there and all of a sudden--"
"Yeah, yeah," Han quickly interjected, not wanting to hear any details. By this time they'd reached the sleeping cabin, and Han eagerly dropped Luke onto the medical bunk once more. "But that's kinda' the definition of being sick. See, if you weren't feeling bad, you'd be healthy."
As Luke slid under the covers, he began to cough again. It was a few moments before the coughing subsided and he was able to take a normal breath. "Shavit! I hate this!" he growled.
Han smiled through his concern. "Kid, I think that's the first time I've ever heard you swear."
"Well, I hate feeling like this," Luke remarked, pulling the covers up to his chin.
"Most sick people do," Han quipped in return. "After all, if you enjoyed this, that would make you a pretty twisted person."
Luke favored him with a whisper of a smile.
"So," Han pressed, "you've really never been sick?"
The kid shook his head. "I think I had a really bad fever when I was little . . .I kinda' remember Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen taking care of me. But that's really it."
"Just a healthy kinda' guy, huh?" remarked Han with a smirk.
Luke shrugged his shoulders and coughed a little. "I had enough accidents and injuries to make up for it, though."
Han laughed lightly. "Clumsy or just reckless?"
"A little of both, actually," Luke replied with a slight smile. Shifting further into the blankets he added, "Sorry, Han."
"For what?"
"For being such a pain. I'm just not used to this."
Han read an enormous amount of self-reproach in his companion's eyes, and he shifted uncomfortably. "Don't worry about it," he quipped, shrugging off the odd feelings of anxiety he was experiencing. "You should see me when I'm sick."
Luke gave a feeble laugh that turned into a more coughing before he remarked, "I doubt you're as bad as this."
"Yeah, you're right, there," joked Han in return, still feeling an uncharacteristic worry toward the young rebel. Reaching over, he gave the kid a pat on his shoulder and added, "So shut up and get some sleep, okay?"
"Sure."
Han turned to leave and was nearly out the door before he heard Luke's voice call out.
"How long 'til we reach the base?"
Slapping his hand on the door, Han turned. "I knew I was forgetting something," he said with a shake of his head. "That's what I came back here to tell you in the first place. Nine hours."
"Ugh," the kid groaned, burying his face in the pillow. "Nine hours?" his muffled voice asked in disbelief.
"It goes by quicker if you're asleep," Han suggested, turning to leave once more.
"Easy for you to say," Luke continued into the pillow.
Han regarded the young man over his shoulder for a moment before stepping out of the cabin. "If you need me, you know where to find me, kid," he called back.
"Yeah, yeah," Luke rasped as the door to the cabin slid shut.
As Han made his way back toward the cockpit, he found himself worrying about the kid's condition and hoping he didn't get any worse in the nine hours it would take to get back. Startled at the thoughts that seemed to be forming in his consciousness without his permission, Han quickly banished them. "Chewie was right," he muttered to himself. "I am getting soft." All the more reason to cut these rebels off before he really did become attached to them. He didn't need friends. He already had a Wookie copilot he'd quickly discovered he'd never rid himself of. Besides, Chewie had proven himself time and time again to be worth having along for the ride. But a stuck-up princess and a wet-behind-the ears kid were another matter entirely. Besides, caring for others could be an occupational hazard, as he'd learned in the past. Nothing was worth going through that again. And there was no way he was going to risk it. Not on his life.
