Chapter 6: Who you callin' dainty?
Rue was sleeping soundly now as Luke quietly closed the curtains over the transparisteel windows of the med bay. Because her hand had not healed quite as well as expected, the droids had given her another round of bacta and something much stronger that was supposed to speed up the healing process, but was in limited supply on base.
The lights auto-dimmed as Luke slipped out of the now-quiet med bay. He was glad that Rue was now comfortable – well, as comfortable as she could be.
It was unfortunate that she had to spend yet another night in the medical unit rather than her own quarters, though it was for the best, he knew. Despite getting his hopes up, he wasn't so sure she would (or should) be attending the ceremony tomorrow.
Luke let out a huge sigh as he began walking down the dark corridor of the Yavin base toward the hangar bay. There was still a lot to process, and he'd barely had time to do so.
What had happened earlier today had been utterly shocking – he had never felt such a strong surge from the Force before. Though he sensed that the Force had guided him in taking the shot on the Death Star, he had not yet felt it flow through him….as strongly as if a ghost had walked right through his body.
And Rue. She had felt it too, he knew.
Did he do that?
It was almost as though…she had walked right through him.
….Had she?
Luke knew he had closed his eyes for a moment only to be overtaken by an overwhelming wave of emotion unlike any other he had felt in his short life. He could see things - her thoughts, feelings, her pain, as well as his own - as if they were images playing out in full before his eyes. It was as if she had been right next to him, though they were well-across the room from each other, he sitting in meditative silence.
It had been utterly draining. It was no wonder Rue had been so depleted.
Luke sighed again.
He had to stop hurting the people he lov-. He stopped himself.
Liked.
He only liked her.
He couldn't get caught up in something that would only cause more pain and hardship to a woman that was already suffering a great deal more than she had let on to him - though the mechanism of her suffering was still unclear to him, he realized sadly.
He barely even knew her, and after this afternoon, he was acutely aware of it.
Still, she had kissed him, and he had not entirely expected it. Dreamt it, yes, but never expected it to actually happen.
No – what he had expected was rejection, as it had always happened time and again.
He had expected to be laughed at, expected to be humiliated – he could not expect any woman to return his affections, no matter how badly he ached for it.
He knew he was just an annoying farmboy. 'Wormie' they had called him.
They wouldn't be calling him that once he became a powerful Jedi, he laughed to himself, thinking of his old fake "friends" on Tatooine.
Though it had only been a few days, Luke could already feel a distinct change within as he began to gradually tune into the vibrations of the Force; he lately felt like talking less and listening more, complaining less and learning more from all that surrounded him…and for the first time, not apologizing for his own thoughts and desires…
Yet, even with his new confidence he would never expect anything from a woman, within or without a relationship. In his mind, it was what she allowed to happen that was far more precious to him than any wild late-night scenario his overly- frazzled mind might dream up.
Though he had wanted their kiss to happen, Luke had not dared to hope too ardently that it would…ever.
It was not the first time he'd been kissed, but it was the first time it had not felt juvenile or sloppy, not wrought with nervous inexperience and drowned in too much Corellian ale and covered in the grit of the Tosche Station basement.
Yet, there was none of that to get in the way this time. It lingered fresh on his lips, like the first time he saw the bountiful green of Yavin - but he couldn't help wondering if it was authentic; it was almost to good to be real.
Maybe it was the meds, the trauma, or the stress of their current situation. – Yes, that had to be it, he convinced himself - no one ever wanted moofy 'Wormie'.
Luke shook his head, snapping out of his irrational thoughts. Things were different now - he was going to become a Jedi, or at least an officer with the Rebellion. He was no longer that annoying kid from Tatooine.
He decided that he was thinking far too hard about all of this.
As Luke he walked toward the hangar, he made up his mind that he would leave up to Rue what she would or would not share with him – including her time and feelings – he'd not force it, what would be would be.
It was best not to get in the way of a woman's will – that much he had learned from his short time around Leia. He would be supportive, but would ultimately let her go her own way, trying not to be upset when she discovered that he was really not the great hero that everyone thought him to be.
Though he was exhausted, it wasn't nearly as late as he'd thought, and the base was still quietly alive with activity and preparations. The Falcon was parked right where Han had left it the day before, and it looked like a few minor repairs were in progress. Skywalker decided to go say hello, and offer some assistance if necessary. He did get Han into this mess in the first place, afterall.
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Though he wasn't so sure that he trusted the slimy smuggler, Han had proven to be a far better guy than Luke had originally thought. Despite abandoning the Alliance after receiving an obscene amount of the only thing that he truly cared for other than the Falcon – credits, and loads of them - Han had unexpectedly returned to help Leia's cause.
And, not only had Han left, he had bolted just after successfully negotiated for seventy-six times more than Luke had been rewarded - a figure that had more than slightly nauseated him. At the end of the day, that was fine with Luke, he never really cared about credits anyway. Defeating the Empire and saving a friend in need was worth infinitely more to him than money, and he hoped that his true feelings came across via his recent agreement to stay on with the Alliance for the foreseeable future.
Perhaps Han felt the same way, deep down. If he did, he sure as hell hid it well.
As he walked toward the Falcon, Luke felt conflicted about asking Han a really big favor. Though he was the "hero", Luke owed Han a huge favor for blasting the remaining TIE fighters away from his lone X-wing fighter during the trench run..so he felt a bit odd asking for yet another favor. He couldn't have done it without him, and for that he was grateful. Despite that, Luke could not easily forget Han's wishy-washiness over Leia's rescue, and his and his quick abandonment of their party once he received his payment, not to mention Han's obvious annoyance anytime Luke opened his mouth.
Luke instead chose to be the better man, temporarily ignoring the major chip on his shoulder as he boarded the ship that had saved him twice.
Han was - as fate would have it - his only real friend beside Leia, Wedge, and now Rue. He supposed that Han's apparent greed might backfire in its own way – Luke was, afterall, the "good guy", wasn't he? Though he was starting to sense more and more that Leia had feelings for Han and not himself, wasn't the princess supposed to end up with the nice guy over some lousy pirate in the end? The noble knight always got the girl in all the stories he'd been told as a kid...
"Nah, that's just kid stuff", he told himself. He was all grown up now, and he wasn't some knight, he was a homeless farmer that had miraculously ended up becoming the hero of the Rebellion at the moment. Still, fairy tales and real life don't mix, and pretty soon, he was sure that nobody would remember him. Though Leia was a princess, she behaved more like a General. She wasn't interested in fairy tales. She demanded justice and progress, not rescuing. Luke knew that she'd have gladly died in Imperial custody, and while Leia was eternally grateful for Luke and Han, she would have likely attempted to escape on her own, and would have likely rescued herself. She definitely had no reason to fall in love with her rescuer, as much as Luke initially fantasied about it.
This was the real world, things never worked out the way they were "supposed to".
As Luke approached the ship, Chewie roared hello to him and said something he couldn't understand at all, though it sounded friendly enough. It seemed that only Han could really understand the Wookiee, but Luke was pretty good at reading his gestures.
"I'm glad that you came back with Han, we couldn't have done this without you guys…say, where is that old man, anyway?" asked Luke, jestingly.
Chewie motioned to the ramp that had already been lowered, and Luke waved goodbye to the Wookie as he boarded. He tried to knock the best he could, but there really wasn't any good way to announce his presence.
"Han ol' buddy! You in here? It's Luke!"
"Hey kid, I'm in back, could ya gimme a hand in here?" said Han, his voice muffled in the other room.
Following Han's voice, Luke walked through the familiar alleyways of the Falcon, the ship he had thought he'd never see again after saying their goodbyes just the other day. Though it had been a short ride in a (somewhat) fast machine, Luke never thought he'd actually miss this bucket of bolts…but he had, just a little.
The ship smelled old and musty, like stale nostalgia, the way only an old freighter that regularly outran certain-death could. Though it was far from luxurious, it was comforting in its own quirky way, thought Luke as he walked towards the sickbay of the Falcon where he found Han on hands and knees.
...Only Han wasn't sick at all….though Luke thought he was now going to be; Han was in the middle of cleaning up waaay more blood than Luke had ever seen in one place before.
"What happened?!", exclaimed a horrified Luke, as he quickly got down to help Han.
"Kid, relax! Remember, I rescued your girlfriend from Tatooine?" he said with a wink.
"Well…it was bad, real bad," said Han, seriously, as he gestured to the faint blood stripes that had dripped along the entire pathway Luke had traversed to where he was now standing.
Luke didn't know what to say. He had an idea of what had happened, but he clearly hadn't imagine just how bad it was. Poor Rue, he thought, wondering if he should go back to the main sickbay.
"The quicker we clean up this mess, the quicker we can relax – I don't know about you, but I could really use a drink after all this excitement…" said Han, as he threw another rag onto the growing pile.
Luke surveyed the room. He felt sick when he saw Rue's torn and bloodied uniform at the bottom of the rag pile. He picked it out and set it aside, vowing silently to clean it up for her, as much of a state of disrepair as it was in. Han, watching Luke pull the uniform out from the pile, felt sorry for him, and now doubly sorry for the young girl, who'd been more than lucky to survive the ordeal. Leia could have easily been in the same situation as she.
Luke noticed that the blood was the worst near the bunk, but it was still all over the grated floor, which looked as if it hadn't really been cleaned in decades.
Luke could sense Han's growing frustration over the whole situation as he got back to scrubbing.
"Cleaning this floor gives new meaning to 'crossing the seven Corellian Hells', kid, I tell ya what. And here I am, just trying to get paid, and take care of business…but no, noo, something always has to come up…" Han continued, as he scrubbed at the grating.
Luke thought he could use a real crew.
"Say…" said Han as he stopped working long enough to shoot a scheming glance at Luke who was now keeling next to him. "…Your old wizard still owes me big time for getting us into this whole mess, why don't you work off your debt and get down here and get your pretty little hands dirty, kid? Whaddya say?"
Luke felt really bad. He was right after all. He knew Han wouldn't ask him for any of his reward, especially that he had been given so much more than Luke, but nevertheless, the smuggler was right.
"I hear ya, Han. Just show me what to do so I don't mess it up worse for you..."
Han smirked. "Gods, kid! I am only kriffing ya, when are you going to lighten up! Grab a dentabrush, there are a few old ones in the 'fresher over there...", he gestured around the corner.
Luke laughed a little to humor Han, but truthfully, Luke was not too happy to be spending the rest of his evening off scrubbing the floors of the Falcon. But, he did owe Han for coming back, so this was the least he could do, especially since it was almost done..at least the floor anyway.
Though he didn't let it on to Han, Luke couldn't help but sense the nauseating Force-signature of the room, a remnant of the overwhelming trauma and anguish that had occurred here so recently to the woman he was now growing close with…and perhaps even had connected with through the Force, as impossible a notion as that was to him. Obi-wan mentioned something like this to him once before, but he couldn't be sure that it was the same thing. Maybe the blood was getting to him.
One thing was for sure though, somehow Han already knew about he and Rue so he was sure to get an ear-full about it tonight…Luke felt it was best to just roll with it, even if he wasn't so sure he liked the smuggler enough to get all personal with him…though he was beginning to grow on him.
"Say Han, who are you callin' 'dainty' anyway!?" called Luke, already feeling a lightening of the dreary atmosphere of the ancient freighter as they set to scrubbing the decks...