Hold On To Me
During the events of "Jedi Dawn", 11 Days after the Battle of Ithor
In Between Chapter 5 And Chapter 6
Ithor, Flying City Tafanda Bay, Early Night
Han Solo sank down into a comfortable, dark green armchair and allowed
himself a moment of rest and wariness. The soft sounds of the Ithorian night
helped him to calm his nerves and the peaceful atmosphere of his quarters did
the rest.
The rooms he and Luke had been given were spacious and they had both not
accepted them without protest. It seemed macabre that they should be allowed to
live in luxury while so many had lost their homes or families and were
temporarily stationed in audience chambers, public theatres, libraries and
clinics. The gentle aliens, however, had insisted.
Deeply grateful for Luke's role in the battle, they wanted to thank him in
every way they could - even if it was simply by providing him with an
environment as comfortable as there was. The Jedi Master had naturally
protested, but in face of three very determined Ithorian counsellors, he had
literally stood no chance. Especially not in his current condition.
Han's thoughts came to a halt and the flicker of relaxation that had begun to
build up evaporated in mere seconds. He sighed and leant his head back so that
he could stare at the ceiling of the room. The soft, green colours that were
used everywhere had a soothing effect but this effect was not strong enough to
take the worry from him. These days, nothing seemed to be strong enough to do
that.
From the very moment on the Yuuzhan Vong had appeared in this galaxy, Han
Solo's life had spiralled out of control. At first, everything had seemed like
something he had lived through a dozen times before - a normal war. As normal as
a war could be anyway.
But then things had changed, faster than he had been able to grasp. First
Chewbacca had died above Sernpidal, killed by the Yuuzhan Vong. Han knew that
the aliens from another galaxy hadn't specifically targeted his Wookiee friend,
but it made no difference to him. Because of them, he was dead. Because of them,
everything had started to crumple around him. And within him.
When Chewbacca had died, something inside Han had died with him. And the rest
had been deeply hurt and caught in his pain for far too long. In a way, he
mused, he had been in quite the same situation Luke, his brother-in-law, was in
now.
His hazel gaze wandered over to one of the breathtaking curtains that
separated the rooms from each other. This one was of very soft, white linen.
Stylised pictures of manollium birds and arrak snakes made of fingernail thin
pieces of blue and transparent glass were woven all through it, preventing it
from moving in the ever present winds.
Ithor was a tropical planet and didn't know changes of season. Its native
people had long since developed an architecture that integrated the wonderful
weather - they didn't use windows and only seldom did they have a necessity for
doors. In general, Ithorian homes had one door. They just didn't have use for
more. The wide arcs that let you pass between the single rooms were covered with
curtains. Behind this particular one laid one of the two bedchambers of the
suite. It was Luke's and Han hoped that he was not only lying in his bed, but
also sleeping. The Jedi Master needed to - he was drained and emotionally very
unstable. Rest was imperative.
For a while, Han concentrated and listened intently. Silence was all around
him and he nodded in relief. Luke seemed to be sleeping indeed. Good.
His thoughts resumed their wandering and he slightly shook his head at
himself. How could he compare himself with Luke and his current predicament?
Perhaps what they had gone through had had a similar emotional impact on both of
them, but their reactions on it couldn't have been more different.
Han had allowed himself to wallow in all the negative feelings Chewbacca's
death had created in him - hatred, anger, aggression, self-righteousness and
vengeance. He had hurt everyone he had held dear and hadn't even noticed it.
It had needed Luke's nervous breakdown and Leia's plea for him to come to
Ithor to bring him back to his senses and make him aware once again of what was
going on around him. And what he had come to find had devastated him more than
he cared to admit.
In a matter of a few months, he had estranged his wife, his whole family, and
had lost all connection to the life of his brother-in-law. He remembered
numerous occasions on which Luke had come to offer him help - even if it was
just a talk. Han had never accepted and his face burned with shame when he
remembered the way he had sometimes refused his friend
In essence, this was already more than enough to let Han feel more
insensitive and cruel than Jabba the Hutt had ever been, but when he had learned
that Luke had had problems of his own all the time and had still come to him
repeatedly to support him, the Corellian had felt the deep urge to punch
himself. Good. And as often as possible.
Everyone else's problems had seemed trivial while he had been trying to find
someone to blame for Chewbacca's death, someone to take his anger out on. The
Yuuzhan Vong had been too far away, so he had used whoever was there.
His rage had blinded him and he had been oblivious to all the things that had
gone wrong in his brother-in-law's life. The galaxy had fallen to pieces around
him and he hadn't even noticed it. The Yuuzhan Vong had devastated planet after
planet and thousands had been killed.
Mara had fallen gravely ill and had not dealt well with it, giving Luke a
hard time although the Jedi Master had just wanted the best for his wife. Kyp
Durron, the man HE had brought into Luke's life all that time ago, had split the
Jedi Order in two with his rash bravado and almost destroyed Luke's dream.
And then the Battle of Ithor had happened. While he hadn't even known they
were in danger, his wife and children could have been killed and his
brother-in-law had almost sacrificed his life to drive the invaders away.
He had listened to various accounts of what Luke had done to overcome the
Yuuzhan Vong and he had also talked to Cilghal, the Mon Calamarian Jedi Healer.
She was at Ithor and supported the staffs of the clinics that were packed full
with injured refugees and deeply traumatised children. Cilghal was very gifted
in her art and she thought to have pieced together what exactly had happened to
Luke during his extensive, lethal use of the Force.
They knew, of course, that he had inflicted death and devastation on
thousands of Yuuzhan Vong, but they hadn't known that his nearly perfect
atonement with the Force during this relatively short period of time had
literally tortured him by letting him experience the pain, the terror and the
fear of everyone and everything that lived and died in the system. Including the
Yuuzhan Vong.
They didn't know how it had worked and to which extent, for Luke simply
refused to tell about it, but it must have been terrible and it had been the
final blow for the Jedi Master, had pushed him over the edge and into the deep
apathy and irritation of a nervous breakdown.
The first blow, the one that had broken through his mental walls and weakened
his very core, had been administered with almost surgical accuracy by his wife.
Mara.
Mara.
Han felt anger boil up in him, well-known anger, and it was all he could do
to keep himself in check and not let it spill out. Such a display of emotional
turmoil would wake Luke for sure and he didn't want to risk that.
How could she have done that to Luke? She had exploited everything she knew
of his dreams, of his emotions, to use it against him and shattered him
completely. Han had seen how bad Luke had been when he had arrived aboard the
New Republic flagship that was assigned to Ithor, the Ralroost, a couple of days
ago.
It had been a wonder that Luke had opened up to him and the Corellian was
still astonished about this fact. He knew that he shouldn't have expected
anything else of him, but seeing the younger man putting still so much trust
into him after everything Han had said and done in the past few months made his
bad conscience thrive even more.
Slowly, carefully, he and Leia had managed to lure Luke out of his apathy and
total isolation. It hadn't been easy, but they had made some progress. Still,
Luke was in a bad condition and there was no way to deny it.
His physical exhaustion was alarming - he was barely able to stand on his
feet if he didn't use the Force. If he DID use the Force, he could pretend to
have recovered from the effects of the battle, but only for a limited time.
After that, the effort left him even more drained.
The worst thing, the one thing, in fact, that prevented his physical
recovery, was his mental condition. He was withdrawn, depressed and profoundly
unbalanced. He needed constant supervision and a lot of patient care to restore
his equilibrium. Han had promised Leia - and himself - that he would give Luke
what he needed and help him in whatever way he could. Because he couldn't stand
by and watch his best friend crumple and wither and because he wanted to restore
their friendship and make up for every hard word that had come over his lips.
Naturally, all of this wasn't as simple as it might sound to some and Luke
didn't always cooperate either. Han had originally planned to take him to one of
the other worldships, Tree of Tarintha, that hadn't been affected by the attack
in order to isolate Luke a little bit from all the problems and the desperation
that were ever present on Tafanda Bay. The Jedi Master however hadn't wanted to
even consider this idea - he felt his place was in the middle of things. All
arguments referring to his poor health and his obvious inability to be of active
help to anyone had fallen on deaf ears.
Luke had equally ignored all of Han's warnings the day before. The Jedi
ceremony to honour the Knights that had given their life to defend Ithor had
been too important to him and there was no denying that it had given new hope to
the survivors. It still had taken its toll on Luke, as had the goodbye from Leia
only a short while after that.
The Princess' brother of course understood why she had to leave, but it
didn't make it any easier for him. He had bravely suppressed the tears - because
he hadn't wanted to worry Leia even more and because he was ashamed that he
couldn't keep a hold on his composure.
But the whole experience had worn Luke out. He hadn't said a word since the
moment Leia's ship had left the Ottega system and had stayed close to Han. Even
while he had talked to Admiral Traest Kre'fey and then to several of his Jedi,
the Corellian had been there. And although Luke hadn't said it aloud, Han knew
that his presence had been an important anchor for the younger man and had
helped him to keep up appearances.
With everything that had been going on, they had returned to their quarters
only two hours ago, when night had long since fallen over the jungle planet,
concealing the devastating scars of black, scorched earth that were criss-crossing
it in a grotesque imitation of the numerous rivers.
Han had patiently persuaded Luke to eat at least a ration bar - the Jedi
Master still refused anything else - and then had helped him retire to his
bedroom. At the beginning, it had felt unbelievably curious to the Corellian to
treat his friend like this. Never had he seen Luke so helpless even in face of
the most trivial things of every-day life. But he had had to recognise soon that
it was not a good idea to let the younger man alone for a longer time, unless
for sleep.
So they had both invented a ritual of some sort. While Luke was preparing for
bed in his small fresher unit, Han would stay outside and keep talking to him.
The Jedi would seldom answer, but he would at least keep moving. Otherwise, as
experience had thought Han, the risk was high that Luke just stopped doing
anything and sank into another bout of apathy.
Today, his brother-in-law had fallen asleep quickly, clearly exhausted after
all that had happened the previous day and Han had withdrawn into the living
room. He hoped that he could persuade Luke to a little trip the next day. He
could borrow a speeder and they could visit the Cathor Hills or the Falls of
Dessiar. Fresh air, sun and peaceful, thriving nature would do the younger man
good and take his mind off of the battle and off of Mara.
Wondering how he could go about getting Luke to agree, Han rose and made his
way through the length of the living room and into his own small, but
well-equipped fresher unit. An early turn-in for the night couldn't do any harm.
*~~
Ithor's four moons shone down onto the planet in all their splendour. The sky
was cloudless at the moment and nothing obscured the view onto the interstellar
gems that complemented the stunning planet they accompanied on its way around
the system's sun.
One of them was a brilliant green and that was the moon Luke Skywalker's gaze
was riveted on. He had woken to its soft light, not sure how long he had already
been asleep. His body was yearning for rest, but sleep eluded him constantly.
Not that he really cared. All that was important to him right now was the colour
of this moon.
Green. He loved this colour. It was such a beautiful shade and it reminded
him of Mara's eyes.
Mara.
He turned his head, hoping with absurd intensity that he would see her
slender form next to him. Somewhere in his brain, he knew that he was in his and
Han's quarters, that Mara was probably far away and that it was impossible to
find her there. But he couldn't quench the hope and he couldn't quench the pain
that seared through his heart when he found an empty pillow where his wife
should have been lying.
His eyes travelled and found the moon once again.
A small smile crept onto the pale, gaunt features of the man. Memories came
to him, of the way she looked at him when they both woke in the middle of the
night, one of the many worries of these times keeping them rooted in awareness.
Memories of the feather touches of her fingers in his face and the sweet taste
of her lips on his.
How he wanted her to be there, to touch her. There were so many things he
wanted to tell her, so many things he wanted to apologize for.
Longing and loneliness mingled within him, making him grow detached of the
here and now.
Perhaps he should go and search for her. He hadn't done so yet. He hazily
remembered to have wanted to go look for her, but something had prevented him
from doing so.
Maybe Mara was still on the planet, shielding herself from him. Maybe she was
just waiting for him to find her.
Having a will of their own, his legs carried him out of his bedchambers and
through the living room to the only door of the suite. He halted in the deserted
corridor, staring through the transparent ceiling at the full moon.
Doubts whispered in a deep, hidden corner of his mind, telling him about
reality, about the insanity of what he was doing. But he didn't want to listen.
He was too tired to listen. Dreams blurred with the present moment and became
certainty.
Luke Skywalker turned and followed a path unknown even to him, keeping the
moon in sight.
*~~
A soft thud resounded through the suite. Han blinked drowsily into the
semi-darkness of his bedroom, wondering why he couldn't just turn around and go
back to sleep. Many things could have caused the noise. He wasn't even sure
whether it had been in their rooms at all. A branch could have broken off of one
of the trees below, crashing through layers of growth. It was just but one of
many perfectly natural possibilities.
But something told Han that all the explanations he could come up with
off-hand didn't hit even close to the truth. A feeling of sudden unease worked
its way into his gut and kept nagging. He tossed and turned a couple of times,
but it wouldn't go away.
Rubbing absent-mindedly through his hair, the Corellian swung his bare legs
out of the bed and rose. A quick glance around himself told him that his room
looked exactly as it had when he had fallen asleep. Which had been three hours
ago.
Shaking his head and suppressing a yawn, he pushed aside the curtain that was
separating his chamber from the rest of the suite. The living room lay before
him, dark and peaceful. Wondering whether he was imagining things, Han wandered
into the nearest corner and lit one of the natural light globes that were
distributed all over the room.
He had been right. Nothing had been moved; everything was at its place.
Hazel eyes travelled through the chamber and halted on the blue-white curtain
that led to his brother-in-law's bedroom. His unease grew. With a couple of wide
strides, he had crossed the living room.
"Luke?"
He kept his voice soft, so as to not startle the younger man out of his
sleep, waiting for an acknowledgement and the permission to enter. There was no
answer.
"Luke?"
Han repeated, a little louder this time. When there was once again no
reaction, he carefully shoved the curtain aside and peered through. In the
moonlight, the empty bed had something eerie about it. The covers were carefully
drawn aside, not scattered in the unruly way typical of a nightmare.
The Jedi Master was nowhere to see. From one second to the other, the
Corellian came wide-awake. He hurried into the adjoining small fresher, checking
whether his brother-in-law might be there. It was also empty.
Adrenaline helped him shed the last remaining fog of sleep and he stormed
back into the living room. If the thud had been in here, there was only one
thing that could have been the source of it.
Han pushed the door open with an almost furious strength. The corridor lay
bare before him. The Ithorians had made sure that the two heroes of the
Rebellion and the New Republic had a whole story to them and were not bothered
by anyone.
His eyes roved over the floor, over every corner and every shadow, but there
was no trace of the Jedi Master. Not the smallest hint. There was no way Han
could even estimate how long he had been gone. He could have forgotten to close
the door and the winds could have pushed it closed..... the only thing Han knew
for sure was that Luke couldn't be gone for longer than three hours.
His first impulse was to go search for him, but he suppressed it and returned
into the suite. Plopping down into the same armchair he had already occupied
earlier this evening, he leant his knees on his elbows and buried his face in
his hands.
Where could he have gone? WHY had he gone?
The Corellian noticed that his heart was racing and tried to force it into a
more normal pattern. Under normal circumstances, all of this wouldn't have
worried him. After all, Luke was a grown man, he didn't need a babysitter.
But circumstances were far from normal. Luke had just lived through a severe
nervous breakdown and his mental condition was unstable at best. All possible
thoughts could be going through his head, driving him to do all possible things
- and none of them good. He was all alonee out there and there was no telling
what he was going to do.
Han gripped his portable comm link and keyed in the number of Tafanda Bay
Security. There was a short pause after a couple of clicks, then a pleasant,
Ithorian voice asked how it could be of help. The Corellian had already opened
his mouth to answer, but stopped before a sound could come out.
He couldn't call Security. He didn't have anything to tell them. To enlist
their help, he would have to reveal Luke's condition to them. And that was out
of question. If his friend's current problems became known, he wouldn't have a
calm moment. The stress level would increase even more and Han honestly didn't
know whether his brother-in-law would be able to put up with such a development.
He clicked off the comm link, laid it down and began to restlessly tap his
fingers onto his thigh. There had to be something he could do. But he knew there
wasn't. Tafanda Bay was huge. With a head start of possibly three hours, Luke
could be everywhere. It was impossible to find him by relying on pure luck.
Han leant back and closed his eyes. He swore vehemently, cursing himself for
his lack of attention. He should have known that something like this could
happen. Luke's physical and mental exhaustion had been obvious - Han should have
foreseen that he would snap. He shouldn't have let him alone in the first place
or should have stayed awake.
His gaze focused anew on the comm link. There was only one thing he could do
- wait and hope that Luke returned. Or thhat he called. He settled back, glaring
darkly at the innocent device.
*~~
He had arrived. This was where she was waiting for him. He knew it from the
depth of his heart. Because the moon had led him to this place - the moon that
was the colour of Mara's beautiful eyes.
Luke quickly keyed in an access code and the door before him swished open
effortlessly. He didn't know where he was and he didn't bother to wonder how he
knew the code for this door. It all didn't matter. What mattered was that Mara
was waiting for him behind this door.
He felt light-headed with fatigue and he was terribly cold - it would be so
wonderful to fall asleep in her arms, warm and safe and freed at last from the
chilling emptiness that filled his heart.
The Jedi Master hurried forward, to the place where he knew his wife to be.
Happiness surged up within him. Soon it would be over. Finally.
He rounded something big, something that looked vaguely familiar, but he
didn't pay attention. Fully expecting to find Mara now, he stopped short at the
picture before him. A wide, empty field in the shadows. There was no Mara. There
was just.... Nothing. Nothing.
The shock hit him completely unexpected and as his dream shattered before his
eyes, reality stormed in on him too fast to be comprehensible. He looked
frantically around and as it registered with him where he was, desperation
gripped him and clung to him like a second skin.
Everything had been an illusion. For a short while, he had been happy with
the prospect of being reunited with the woman he loved. During a couple of
minutes, pain and tiredness and exhaustion had been gone from his mind. But they
struck back with twice as much force as he understood that Mara wasn't there.
She could be anywhere in the galaxy and there was no chance he would ever
find her if she didn't want to be found. And perhaps she'd never again want to
be found. If at all, then certainly not by him. After all, she had made it
abundantly clear what she thought of him.
His legs gave way beneath him and he sagged to the floor. It was cold beneath
him and made his skin numb. Numbness was good. It spread through him and quieted
the pain.
*~~
Han was close to going crazy with worry. With every second that passed, the
scenarios he was coming up with in his head grew darker and scarier. If Luke
didn't return until morning, he would have to get help. And the only one he
could ask for help were the Jedi. At best, he'd be able to get one of his
children. They would be able to help him find their uncle. But there wouldn't be
a chance to reach them before morning. They were presently up on the Ralroost,
coordinating with the other Jedi and Tafanda Bay had shot down all
communications off-planet for the night to safe energy.
Of course there was an emergency channel that linked the flying city to the
New Republic forces in orbit, but requesting use of this channel would mean
sharing Luke's condition with people who didn't need to know.
It happened seldom that Han Solo didn't know what to do and when such a
situation occurred, he hated the feeling. He would never forgive himself if
something had happened to Luke - never had the Jedi Master needed his protection
more than right now and once again the Corellian wasn't able to give it to him.
What kind of a friend was he, anyway?
His self-deprecating musings were interrupted by a shrill beep that erupted
from his commlink. For a moment, Han stared at the small communication unit in
confusion. Then it clicked in his head. This came from the computer aboard the
Millenium Falcon. He had set it to alert him if something moved in the hangar
bay.
He picked the device up and shut off the annoying sound. This was really not
the right moment for any saboteur to show up. Han wasn't in a very good mood as
it was and whoever dared to lay hand on his ship would feel this right now.
The Corellian hurried back into his bedroom, passing through the curtain that
was a perfect duplicate of Luke's, just that the glass elements were green.
Green. Jade.
Han paused in mid-movement. The Jade Sabre had been in the same docking bay
the Falcon was in now before Mara had left the planet. He knew this because Leia
had mentioned it to him when she had suggested moving his YT-1300 in there
because of the already established, heightened security systems.
How could he not have thought of that?! If there was a place Luke was likely
to go to, no matter in which state of mind he was, then this was it. Naturally
the former smuggler couldn't be absolutely sure, but his instinct told him that
all of this had to do with Mara. There was no other possibility.
He swore under his breath while he pulled a shirt over his head and slipped
into his jeans. Tugging his comm link into his belt, he jogged out of the suite.
When he was well in the corridor, he broke into a run.
He had always been able to rely on his gut feelings and now they told him to
hurry.
*~~
The hangar door didn't show any sign of having been forced open. Han wasn't
surprised at that - meanwhile, he was fairly sure that Luke had been the
"intruder" the surveillance system of his ship had detected.
He entered and gave his eyes a couple of seconds to get used to the darkness.
The section of the hangar that had harboured the Jade Sabre was visible as a
slightly lighter patch of darkness. Were his eyes deceiving him or was someone
lying there?
Han felt his pulse quicken and hammered onto the light control next to the
door. He hadn't been wrong. A slight figure glad in a light grey pyjama was
lying directly next to the field, where an extended landing ramp would have
been... if there had been a ship.
"Luke!" the Corellian exclaimed. When he looked closer, he noted
trembling shoulders and he felt himself break into a dead-run. Sinking onto his
knees next to his friend, he turned him around gently. The Jedi's face was
tear-streaked as he blinked up at Han, but he immediately tried to choke down
his sobs as he recognised him.
"Han..."
Luke's voice was a hoarse croak as he struggled weakly to sit up. He failed
miserably and the Corellian helped him.
Han rubbed Luke's shoulders, feeling the coldness of the other's skin. Ithor
might be a tropical planet, but at night the temperatures could still drop below
what was healthy for someone in the Jedi's attire.
The emotions that he had been suppressing all through the last hour were
burbling to the surface without him being able to control it, while he cradled
his brother-in-law, trying to ease the other's obvious pain.
"Don't ever scare me like that again. What were you thinking, leaving in
the middle of the night?"
Luke trembled in his embrace, from cold and from emotional agony as Han
suspected, and didn't dare to look up at his friend as he stammered an answer.
"I.... Mara... I wanted to find Mara. The moon. I was following the
moon..."
The younger man's blue eyes were wide and red-rimmed and travelled insecurely
through the hangar, taking in his position and his surroundings.
Han kept rubbing his shoulders, letting him talk. What could he say, anyway?
Nothing that wouldn't betray his worry and his shock. Luke looked so lost and
small at this very moment and he wondered whether this was another breakdown he
was witnessing.
"It was just a dream...." Luke murmured, his voice catching in his
throat as the full meaning became clear to him a second time this evening. He
dimly remembered having come to the same conclusion some while ago, but there
had been comfortable blackness that had relieved him from the pain.
And then there had been Han. A very worried Han.
Luke swallowed and looked up at his friend. Shame made heat creep into his
face.
"I'm sorry." He murmured, fighting himself into a more upright
position. He wanted to rise, to his own feet, but the moment he stood tall,
dizziness enveloped him. The Jedi already prepared himself for a very hard
impact, but it never came.
Two strong arms held him steady and when his vision cleared, his friend's
brown eyes were intently looking at him.
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Luke."
Luke shook his head, trying to make himself loose, if without much success.
He couldn't bear this any longer. He was just worrying everyone, keeping them
from the really important things. A burden - that was what he was. And he didn't
want to be one any longer.
"You are tired. You should be sleeping and I keep you up with my silly
doldrums. I... I..." his voice left him. It had been so long since he had
talked that much. He felt unused to conveying his thoughts into words and had
the feeling that there weren't any words that could really describe how he was
feeling.
A new bout of dizziness dragged him back to reality as Han shook him. It was
but a gentle shove, something to make him come back to his senses, figuratively
speaking, but it felt like an earthquake to Luke.
"Luke, you're not silly. You have serious problems. And I'm here to help
you. Why don't you come to me if you're feeling like this? Why don't you want to
talk to me?" Han had to do a conscious effort not to let his desperation be
heard too much in his voice.
He didn't want Luke to think he was angry with him. But it was so hard to
keep his emotions at bay in face of his best friend in such a terrible state of
irritation.
The Jedi bit his lower lip, shaking his head anew. "I don't want to
trouble you."
Han froze. He stared at Luke, feeling as if he had punched him.
"Is that what you think you're doing?"
The younger man seemed to be oblivious to the shock in his brother-in-law's
voice, for he continued without interruption.
"You have lost Chewie and I have no right to impose all this on you. I
know you're hurting so much and I don't want to bother you. And..."
The Corellian had true problems to grasp all this. Had he been too na? all
that time? How could he have thought that Luke could simply forget what had
happened between them in the last couple of months.
How often had he sneered into Luke's face that he had enough problems of his
own when the Jedi had come to offer him a talk? Now, that he was able to look at
it all with more clarity, Han could acknowledge that Luke hadn't wanted to share
his own problems with him, but that he had come to listen to the former
smuggler's problems.
All the time, he had wanted to make amends. Now was the possibility to do so
- and to truly reach Luke with it.
He focused his eyes so long on Luke's face until the Jedi dared to look at
him.
"You're hurting, too, Luke."
Blue eyes widened, but he immediately tried to distract Han from the topic.
"I'm fine, I'm just..."
"Luke, you have been wandering around this city in your pyjamas in
search of a woman who's long gone."
"I'm.... I'm..."
Han shook his head, hoping that his words would reach his friend. He didn't
know what else he could do if they didn't.
"You need to acknowledge it, Luke. If you don't admit the problem to
yourself, there is no way anyone can help you."
For a short while, Luke stared at the floor, his lips a thin line. Then he
had to give up the fight and the tears ran once again.
"It's just that I miss her so much. And I ...I just didn't know that she
wasn't happy with me. I wasn't aware I was hurting her. I... I don't want to
hurt you... or Leia." He whispered, for the very first time sharing one of
his worst fears.
Once again, his eyes had strayed from those of his friend. He didn't see
Han's expression of compassion and friendship.
"And your nightmares?"
"She's calling me. I see her, right before me. But when I want to go to
her, I'm falling. And there's nothing I can hold on to - she isn't helping
me."
After all these days in which he had simply bottled it all up deep in
himself, the words were coming out in short, small units. His breath was growing
more rapid and a single look into his eyes was enough for Han to see that he was
living through it right as he was speaking.
"Why don't you try holding on to a friend, Luke? That's what we're there
for, right?"
"I....I don't want to trouble..."
"Come here, kid."
Han normally wasn't the kind of guy to embrace his friends, but this time, it
came naturally. Luke needed help, he needed someone to be there - someone he
could count onto. Someone he could literally hold onto.
And how could he prove to him better that he could indeed be this person for
him than by letting him hold on for real?
Luke was tense and he felt as if the younger man wanted to back away, but it
lasted only a couple of seconds. He felt the Jedi sob a while at his shoulder,
then he stepped back to have a good look on the pale face.
"We're friends, Luke. And we'll always be. I'm sorry for all the things
I said to you in the last
couple of months. I didn't mean it like that. You can talk to me about anything
- no matter about what."
The Jedi nodded, but he still seemed to be ashamed of his whole behaviour.
Something in his face, however, had changed.
It would be a simple delusion to think that this talk had taken care of
Luke's problems. But it had opened him a path to someone that he could trust and
on whom he could count. The block that had kept Luke's feelings in a tight cage
had been undone.
Many problems stayed - Luke didn't eat properly, didn't sleep properly and he
had a deep-sitting self-esteem issue. But at least he had talked about the
nightmares now... and he had accepted Han's help.
The Corellian gently directed Luke towards the Falcon. The Jedi was barely
able to stay upright and swayed a little - this nightly excursion had eaten away
the last of his strength. There was no way he'd get him back to their suite. But
at the moment, that didn't matter to Han.
Luke might not share everything with him and Han didn't know whether his
condition would improve, whether he would open up more or whether he would be
able to pull himself together.
But he did know that their friendship had been cemented forever in this
moment. And Luke knew it, too.
~ FINIS ~