Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars.

Phantom Pains

The chatter at the table fell over Luke's ears like raindrops on a window. He could hear it, but it made no sense to him. He turned his head away from his friends – the other pilots – and steadily inhaled and exhaled like the medical droid had recommended. Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth. It was supposed to work at controlling his pain, but all it really did was give him something to focus on other than the pain. It didn't work as well as listening to Leia's holos about Alderaanian folklore. Or listening to Leia complain loudly about how obnoxious and ignorant some of the former senators were or the potential Alliance allies they were currently trying to create treaties and deals with or something Luke didn't understand.

Luke didn't even notice the pungent aroma of Wedge's plate when he arrived. The rest of the Rogue squadron groaned and complained about the Corellian sausage and fermented vegetables. "Oh come on," Wedge sighed. "You all have your crazy food and I don't complain about it –"

"That's because our food doesn't stink like yours does."

"Luke," Wedge turned to his friend. "Help me out here – Luke?"

That turned the entire table's attention to Luke. They had been there for other episodes of this phantom pain. The overabundance of attention did not help Luke, especially since they all really wanted him to answer their questions or respond to them.

"Luke," Leia grabbed his arm and for the fifth time in the past week, Luke wondered if they had some form of telepathy going on between them. She had heard him at Bespin, or at least that was the only explanation that made sense. How else would she have known where to find him? Besides, she'd admitted that they had already been on their way away from Vader and towards safety. "Come on, Luke. I've got him," she announced to the squadron and led him out of the cafeteria.

They made made their way to Leia's room, where Luke took his seat in the oversized, overstuffed arm chair big enough for Chewie to sit in (though Chewie hated the chair's upholstery and therefore never sat in it). "Bad?" Leia asked, handing him the heating pad from its fallen spot on the floor.

Since returning to the Alliance, Luke and Leia had spent much time in Leia's room. Luke had a bunk with the other pilots, but Leia had her own suite in reflection of her position. They'd decorated the room once, because the medical droid told them that distraction would be a good thing to try to escape the phantom pains.

One giant chair, two paintings, a wall of perfectly lined up and organized holos, new bedspread, and color coordinated extra bedding for Luke (who slept in the oversized chair often) later and they'd realized decorating was not going to be the answer. Just what could he continue to decorate time after time? The chefs had kicked them out of the kitchen once they realized just how much Luke, Leia, and Chewie were taking (Chewie could eat a lot of cookies). So decorating cakes, cookies, and other baked goods was out of the question.

That was when Leia had put on the audio holonovel of Alderaanian myths. He really enjoyed that and it seemed to help, that and the heating pad.

So while Luke turned on the heating pad, Leia started the novel.

They finished the chapter and Leia asked how Luke was doing. "Better," Luke wiggled his fingers. "Who would have ever thought there could be so much trouble from something that's not here anymore."

Luke received the message early the next morning and reported to the flight ready room. When he saw General Rieekan with Mon Mothma. The distinguished senator (and one of Leia's mentors and a mother figure) intimated Luke. She always seemed to find the right words and to speak gently. She was unlike anyone Luke had experienced before. His aunt had been gentle, but she didn't always have the right words. His uncle had been stern and definitely said more of what he thought at the moment than what he probably wished he had said. Leia and Han had equal amounts of fire in their speech and they both readily used it. Luke appreciated the directness.

But Mon Mothma…

She planned, she studied and observed, she reached conclusions slowly but with conviction.

Luke, even before becoming a rebel and therefore active in battle, had always made decisions on the fly. He understood that kind of thinking.

"Commander Skywalker," Mon Mothma gave him a gentle smile. "It's good to see you again."

"And you," Luke also had no idea how to address her. With the Imperial Senate disbanded, was her title still Senator?

"Skywalker," Rieekan nodded at him and Luke nodded back.

"Shall we sit?" Mon Mothma gestured towards the chairs and they all sat down. "Commander, I'm afraid we have an unpleasant topic today."

Luke nodded again. He realized he'd done that a lot since arriving at the meeting and decided to do something different. He cleared is throat and said, "Well, let's hear it. Is it a mission for the Rogues?"

"No," Rieekan spoke before Mothma could and he spoke bluntly. "It's about you. About your hand."

"I'm sorry if this is an uncomfortable subject," Mothma spoke gently, as if to counter Rieekan. "I read your account of the duel with Darth Vader. You were very brave, just like your father," Luke winced, the two leaders pretended not to notice. "But your medical records and your flight crew have reported that you are experiencing incapacitating pain as a result of your lost limb."

"Phantom pains," Luke supplied. "Two-One-Bee says it's common and that only time will tell if they're temporary or permanent."

"Yes," Mon Mothma started to say something.

"Luke, we're aware that you're not able to function when the pain hits." Maybe Rieekan meant to soften his tone by addressing Luke by his first name, but Luke didn't feel that way. He readied himself for the bad news. "And it's because of that, that we can't risk losing you, that you're grounded."

The word meant nothing for the longest of seconds and then he understood. Like a bird taken for a pet, his wings had been clipped. He would not be allowed to pilot his X-Wing. He would not be allowed to do anything with flying the ships. Maintenance and simulator training only.

He might have been grounded, but he felt the ground give out beneath his feet and became grateful for the chair holding him in place.

The rest of the meeting passed by in a blur of nothingness. They spoke, but they said nothing. Luke replied, but it was as if he were on autopilot. Their meeting adjourned and he walked down the halls of the ship, passed the hangar, and arrived at the gym.

For two blissful, painful hours, Luke put himself through the most grueling fitness regimen he could think of. He heard other rebels comment that he should "slow down" or "take it easy" as he pushed himself to the very limits of his body and mind. He only stopped when he threw up.

At meals, he said nothing to anyone about the grounding. He didn't even tell Leia, though she asked what made him get out of the chair so early in the morning. Chewie felt Luke's forehead, looking for a temperature and barked out, You look pale, cub.

"I'm just tired," Luke explained.

Luke, wake up. It's time for breakfast.

Mornin' momma!

Morning, love.

Anakin, when are you going to stop gallivanting across the galaxy and settle down? Your son needs you at home, your wife needs you at home –

Not this again, Owen. I told you once, I'll tell you again and this is the last time: I hate this planet and once I have enough money, we're offa here!

Ani, Owen, please! We rarely have time together as a whole family – Anakin, please come back here!

Harsh breathing

I am your father.

Luke woke in a cold sweat. Leia turned over in her bed and mumbled something about, "I'll build the dinner later, mom, we're out of carbonite sprinkles for the cake." Her dream sounded infinitely better than his, though it was all nonsensical. He tossed aside the blanket and missed the one he'd had on the Falcon, though that was gone, Force knew where. Luke could have sworn he left it on the Falcon and hadn't had time to go get it before the battle and evacuation of Hoth. It certainly wasn't in his X-Wing. Maybe he'd left it somewhere else and was nearby or maybe it was now a permanent part of the ice landscape of Hoth.

He stood up and went to wake Leia.

She sat upright immediately and Luke thanked the stars he'd managed to convince her to not have a blaster under her pillow. "Bad dream," he told her. Leia scooted over and made room for him. Once he settled in, she leaned her head against his shoulder and waited. "I don't want to think about it," he said honestly.

"Hmmm, I dreamt I had to make a cake out of spare parts for Artoo's and Threepio's anniversary. Threepio insisted that the color scheme be green and beige. Beige frosting just looks horrible on a cake, don't you think?" She waited for a reply, but Luke just took her hand and started to drift back to sleep. "Should we have a club meeting tomorrow?"

Luke's reply was a snore. Leia smiled and fell back to sleep.

Leia wanted to ask Luke about the club meeting in the morning, but he left early. At the earliest opportunity to ask, she took it and he just said, "Can't. We need Han for a meeting."

Now, days after, she and Mon Mothma studied the latest proposal for a shipment of very needed ship parts. As Mon explained the terms the suppliers had demanded, Leia felt the sudden urge to go to Luke and make sure he was all right. She had felt it on Bespin and again whenever Luke had pains in his hand. There was no explanation and she and Luke had not talked about it. They had talked about his Jedi training and because of stories her father had told her, Leia figured it was that: Luke used his Jedi powers to consciously or subconsciously call for her. If she ever got to have a meeting, she wanted to bring it up but without the premise of a club meeting, she felt too uncomfortable.

Leia rose from her seat, excuse on the tip of her tongue and then the call was silent. Not only was it silent, she felt her heartbeat slow and a gentle wave of restfulness came over her. He was fine; she should take care of her business. She would check on him later. And if he really needed her, he would call. "Sorry, had to stretch," she told Mon and sat back down.

Luke closed his eyes, kept his legs folded under him, and meditated.

As he sank deeper into meditation, for the first time the phantom pains faded into oblivion.