Hunter in the Shadows, part 1 of 3
Jan. 17th, 2005 11:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
valarltdHunter in the shadows
by Angel
NC-17, usual disclaimers
Hunger was his constant companion. It cradled him at night, sending him dreams of endless
sustenance, awakening him to gnaw at his bones by day, disorienting him. No food satisfied it. No drink helped. He thirsted agonizingly, the water a memory before it was swallowed.
He spent his days in meditation seeking the origins of his disease, unable to find them and heal himself, and his nights in broken sleep. The presence of others was unbearable.
The comm pinged. Deep in meditation, he let the computer answer for him.
"Kid, I know you're there. Turn on the screen." Amazing how Han could sound both worried
and irritated at the same time. "Her worship is really worried about you, and is making me miserable. So I'm on my way over. Get the pleasurers out of the door, put away the Jedi hoodoo, ditch the Spice in the fresher, whatever you're doing. I'll be there in about fifteen."
The voice drew Luke from meditation, and he quieted his stomach as best he could. Han. It
would be Han coming to look after him. It always had been. Even during the nightmare three weeks earlier.
He senses more than hears the creature behind him, and spins, lightsaber drawn. The denizen of the lowest levels is roughly man-sized, and pale from the darkness. It blinks at the brightness of the saber, but charges anyway.
Luke deflects its first blow, doing his best not to kill it, only to fall prey to the rest of its pack. Fighting with teeth and claws, filthy and sharp, the creatures take their toll. They have no presence in the Force, not the sense of life, nor even the sense of life-gone which most inanimate objects have.
He deals death, ignoring the pain of his body and the evil laughter of Palpatine that surrounds him from nowhere, but is relieved when red bolts flash through the darkness, each finding its mark. Han has come for him, yet again, bailing him out. He repays the rescue by losing consciousness from blood-loss on the long ride to the upper levels.
Luke opened the door for Han, deliberately not sensing him, not reaching out and feeling the
life-energies in the Force that were so vibrantly Han. He knew the instant he did, he'd want to seize them for himself.
"You look really bad, kid. Did the drougers get you a little worse than we thought?" Han sat
down on the couch and pulled Luke to sit with him so he could look him over.
Luke, still half lost in the Force, said nothing. The tendril of brightness that was Han touched him, ever so gently, tipping his head from side to side. He resisted the temptation to catch Han's hand, to ruthlessly grasp the brightness and use it to color his world again from the grays it was fading into.
"Trust you to find a rare and nasty subspecies of corridor ghoul. They don't carry venom,
though, so you were pretty lucky." He turned Luke's face again and pushed the robe aside to look at his shoulder. "Damn, you're pale, and this bite's not healing up either." He checked Luke's flesh-hand and his arms. "The scratches are all gone. How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine."
"Kid," Han's tone was serious and hard in ears that hadn't heard another voice in days. "Luke, you're not even in the same sector as fine. Your sister sent me here to drag you back to the medcenter so the docbots could check
you over for any delayed reaction to the attack."
"I'm fine," Luke insisted, more solidly. He was fully back to himself.
"When did you eat last?"
Luke just shook his head. The hunger nearly nauseated him, but how to tell his friend that food would not help? That it passed through unchanged when it stayed down at all?
"That settles it." Han commed for a robohack, wincing as the taxi dispatcher said there would
be a ten minute delay, while Luke tried to stop him. "You're going in and letting them look you over. You can do it the easy way, or I can carry you in." He gave a wry little grin. "You know I hate pulling rank, so don't make me."
"I'll go." Luke followed when Han withdrew his hands, wanting to keep the contact, feel the
touch. The gesture didn't go unnoticed, but Han kept his mouth shut. For the first time, Luke seemed to notice he was wearing his bathrobe. "I'll go change."
No wonder Luke is sick, Han thought, staring at the darkened room while he waited. Room's
all cold and stale, the air-recycler turned off. No food, no company, no air, just him and the Force.
They rode to the med center in silence. Luke knew he should draw away, quit pressing
against the warm brightness of his friend, using Han's energy to fan his own flagging vitality. He couldn't. The constant brightness of the trillions of life-forms on Coruscant left him confused and ravenous. Han was stable, and close. He encouraged Han to wrap an arm around his waist when they got out, half-supporting him into the med-center like any good older brother would.
The humanoid receptionist took his information and sent them through a pair of doors to a
triage room. Luke sagged into a chair, drawing Han down with him.
"Hurry up and wait," Han grumbled, settling in beside Luke, one arm around his
shoulders. The kid was so weak, he didn't know how Luke was staying on his feet. He felt cold
to Han's touch, and seemed to be soaking up body-heat to replace his own.
"Skywalker," called a diagnostic stretcher from the door. Luke flinched at the sound of
his name, as if it were foreign to him, and stood up slowly. He crossed the floor alone and lay
down on the stretcher. It began taking vitals, whirring to itself as it floated off. Han followed. He wasn't going to leave Luke here, not in the shape the kid was in.
While Luke was being poked and prodded by various equipment, Han excused himself to a
public terminal just across the hall. Still keeping an eye on Luke through the open door, he
commed Leia's office.
She beamed at him, then quickly turned serious. "How is he?"
"Bad, sweetheart, really bad. He's not eating or sleeping as far as I can tell. He's listless, like he could collapse at any time. The droids are looking him over right now. Are you going to come by?"
She sighed. "I'm sorry, darling, but that delegation from the Rim is being stubborn. It
doesn't look like I'll be able to come home for a few days."
"I've got my comlink. I'll call if anything changes."
"Keep me posted. I promise, things will let up, and we'll have some time together soon ."
She blew him a kiss and switched off.
Han flicked the terminal off desolately. More and more, his so-called romance was
devolving into com conversations that ended in less than a minute. He hadn't actually seen Leia in person for two weeks, and then it had been a brief kiss, a hasty lunch (interrupted by three
comcalls) a second kiss that never even connected with his skin, and him sitting alone with a beer
and a half-eaten meatpie.
"Han?" The half-whisper drew his attention to where Luke leaned against the doorway.
"Kid, you should be lying down ." He readied himself to catch his friend.
"Droids say they're done and need some time to analyze. I can go home."
"I'll take you there."
Luke looked up, grateful that Han would give so much. He winced at the contact when
Han wrapped an arm around his waist and encouraged him to drape an arm across his shoulders.
The nearness was impossible. He could feel Han's life-force warming him, and he wanted nothing
more than to wrap himself up in it, keep Han there forever.
They made their slow way out of the medcenter.
***
Luke sat on the edge of the bed, so cold now that Han was leaving. The hunger still ached
within him, despite his having eaten under his friend's watchful eye. Han caught the wanting look
on Luke's face as he turned at the door. "Do you want me to stay, Luke?"
"Leia will want you home," Luke said, staring at the high polished boots Han wore. He
couldn't look up at Han's face. If he did, he'd beg.
"Nah, she's in conference for about a week. She'll never know the difference ." Luke
could almost hear him thinking the words "or even care ." Han came over and sat beside him, and
Luke immediately moved in closer, wanting the body contact that had silenced the hunger for a
while. "She sleeps in that big conforma-lounge in her office more nights than not."
"What's wrong between you?" Luke asked softly.
"I don't know, kid. She's married to her work, and I'm the guy who looks good on her
arm at state functions. Not sure what there ever was between us really, 'cept a lot of adrenaline
catching fire from hot tempers."
"You can sleep on the couch, if you want," Luke offered, never moving out of the
protective circle of Han's arm, never losing a millimeter of body contact.
"Or I could make things really easy on us and sleep here, so you don't scream me awake
with a nightmare ." Han remembered all too clearly Yavin and Endor. Luke had never slept well
after battles, vivid and violent nightmares pursuing him from sleep into wakefulness and hanging
on him even by day. Seeing the same haunted depth in the blue eyes now, he wordlessly reached
down to tug off his boots.
A wan smile touched Luke's mouth, moving nothing but his lips. It felt like an agonizing
rictus smeared over his face, and he quickly buried it. "Thank you. I just--" he looked away, at
anything but the man who held him against the pain and thirst, "I didn't want to be alone."
"Kinda figured. When was the last time you slept, Luke? Or have you just been
meditating instead?"
"Meditating mostly. It reduces my need for sleep."
"Tonight, you sleep ." Han lay back and patted the mattress beside him. "Right here since
you seem to want to cuddle a lot."
"You don't mind?"
"I'd have pushed you away in the aircab if I minded." Han wrapped him in close, letting
Luke take the warmth he needed.
Luke slept fitfully, nightmares engulfing him, hunger assailing him like the beasts he
fought. The drougers came, wave after wave, all teeth and claws. Han stood at the edge of his
vision, watching him as if bored by the sight of his best friend fighting for his life. He went down among arms covered in coarse grey hair, his flesh parting under sharp talons.
Luke jerked awake in Han's arms. Han held him very close, and made soothing sounds as
he buried his face in the warm chest under his cheek
"Stars, kid, that was a bad one. Thought you'd never wake up."
"Drougers." The word was muffled by Han's chest.
"You got real cold before you woke up. I've touched warmer corpses. I hope the med
droids come up with something soon."
Before local dawn, the comm pinged. "Message for Jedi Skywalker from the med center.
Report at once for more blood work."
"Leave it to you to baffle the droids, kid." Han tried to keep his voice light as he tugged
on his boots and shoved a cup of kaf into Luke's cold hands. He tried not to notice the hasty way
Luke gulped it, heedless of the heat. Or the way he went straight to the water dispenser and
quaffed a liter without pausing for breath. Or the way he ignored his favorite pastries on the table and drank more water.
They arrived in the medcenter, and the droids poked and prodded Luke some more, taking
samples of his skin, hair and saliva. Han watched uncomfortably as the tests proceeded, and
excused himself to call Leia when the droids started drawing blood.
"Sweetheart, I'm going to stay with Luke for a while until he's back on his feet. The droids
don't know anything."
"Han, you're so good to do this. Stay as long as he needs you. I'll come as soon as I can,
darling. Take good care of him for me."
Lunch from the medcenter dispensary made the Falcon's emergency concentrates look like
a gourmet meal. Han pushed the flavorless blue and orange stew around in the bowl, watching
Luke drink the fortified broth and liter after liter of water.
The wall-chrono clicked over numbers with monotonous regularity as they waited. The
holo babbled to itself in the corner, not loud enough for any of the waiting beings to understand it, but loud enough to annoy. Luke meditated, sensing Han as a tense presence at his side, acutely
aware of his energy signature.
The meddroids summoned Luke back to the conference room and displayed their results.
A virus of some sort was devouring the mitochondria in Luke's cells, leaving him exhausted, and
altering the normal functioning of the red and white blood cells. They had traced it to the drouger saliva in the wound on his neck. The wound would have to be excised, removing the infected flesh which was rapidly metastasizing through Luke's system, spreading the mutant cells with no mitochondria. The labs were in the process of making an anti-viral, and Jedi
Skywalker was to report back at local dawn for surgery.
"Why can't you take him now?" Han demanded. "He's not getting any better."
"General Solo, we must have the anti-viral so that he will heal after the surgery ."
Somehow the meddroid managed to sound pompous and reassuring at once. "A proper supply
should be synthesized by tomorrow. Also, we need to make sure we have enough of Jedi
Skywalker's rather uncommon blood synthesized in case of full replacement. No food or water
after midnight, Jedi Skywalker, and we will see you in the morning. Please fill out all the
permissions and waivers before you leave."
"Oh joy, paperwork," Han grumbled as he and Luke walked to Admissions. Luke said
nothing, his eyes unfocused, like a clouded summer sky. He knew where he was walking and had
to focus on taking one step at a time. The broth hadn't helped much, and his stomach raved at
him, demanding his attention.
They found the desk and Luke began filling in the datapad. He listed Leia as his next of
kin and Han as his emergency contact. Although the way Han was hovering, Luke suspected he
wouldn't leave before the doors of the surgery swung shut in his face. Finished, he sank back in
the seat, and let Han take the pad to the desk's download. Tomorrow, he would be well. He
would be able to sleep, free of the nightmares. Free, too, of the ravenous hunger and thirst.
He took Han's hand, using his friend's strength to rise, and leaned on the taller man as they
made their way back to his apartment. He assailed the foodsynth, having found that the fortified
broth stayed down and helped marginally with the thirst as well.
Han watched, growing more and more worried. Luke had taken in at least a decaliter
today, and Han had yet to see him sweat or visit the 'fresher. Something was very wrong, and he
only hoped the droids could cure it.
They commed Leia's office, leaving her the message that Luke was having surgery at dawn
and Han would stay with him at least two more nights. They watched the holo news in silence,
Luke never straying from Han's side. It was the only way he had found to stay away from the food
synth.
He meditated, blocking out the noise of the holo, and concentrating on the Force. It felt
different, odd. He just rested in it, not seeking the future nor trying to make sense of the past. All was grey. The Dark Side did not hover, whispering, tempting as it so often did, but the Light was not to be found either. Only the sense of interconnectedness remained.
Luke came up from the Force when Han nudged him. "Luke, time for bed. We have to be
up early. You need a drink before we sleep?"
Luke shook his head and changed into sleep pants before lying down. Han programmed
the robovalet for a second set of pants to fit his larger frame, and waited while it processed the
request.
"You all right with this? I can get a sleep shirt too. I just needed to clean my clothes after sleeping in them yesterday."
"It's ok." The response was a whisper. Luke didn't care if Han was dressed in six layers or
naked, as long as he was there.
Han lay down beside him, never moving when Luke curled in close. "I'll be glad when you
feel better, Luke." This was not what Luke expected to hear. Han had to be very worried if he
was actually expressing concern in words instead of actions. The actions had been constant and
effective. Even now Luke absorbed Han's warmth as he had absorbed the water earlier: a
necessity. He drifted, his mind wandering in the Force, his body sinking into sleep state.
He prowls the darkened corridors, the empty undercity. Nothing moves here, except him,
the hunter. He doesn't know what he hunts, but something is there...
Han awoke to an empty bed shortly before dawn.
*****
by Angel
NC-17, usual disclaimers
Hunger was his constant companion. It cradled him at night, sending him dreams of endless
sustenance, awakening him to gnaw at his bones by day, disorienting him. No food satisfied it. No drink helped. He thirsted agonizingly, the water a memory before it was swallowed.
He spent his days in meditation seeking the origins of his disease, unable to find them and heal himself, and his nights in broken sleep. The presence of others was unbearable.
The comm pinged. Deep in meditation, he let the computer answer for him.
"Kid, I know you're there. Turn on the screen." Amazing how Han could sound both worried
and irritated at the same time. "Her worship is really worried about you, and is making me miserable. So I'm on my way over. Get the pleasurers out of the door, put away the Jedi hoodoo, ditch the Spice in the fresher, whatever you're doing. I'll be there in about fifteen."
The voice drew Luke from meditation, and he quieted his stomach as best he could. Han. It
would be Han coming to look after him. It always had been. Even during the nightmare three weeks earlier.
He senses more than hears the creature behind him, and spins, lightsaber drawn. The denizen of the lowest levels is roughly man-sized, and pale from the darkness. It blinks at the brightness of the saber, but charges anyway.
Luke deflects its first blow, doing his best not to kill it, only to fall prey to the rest of its pack. Fighting with teeth and claws, filthy and sharp, the creatures take their toll. They have no presence in the Force, not the sense of life, nor even the sense of life-gone which most inanimate objects have.
He deals death, ignoring the pain of his body and the evil laughter of Palpatine that surrounds him from nowhere, but is relieved when red bolts flash through the darkness, each finding its mark. Han has come for him, yet again, bailing him out. He repays the rescue by losing consciousness from blood-loss on the long ride to the upper levels.
Luke opened the door for Han, deliberately not sensing him, not reaching out and feeling the
life-energies in the Force that were so vibrantly Han. He knew the instant he did, he'd want to seize them for himself.
"You look really bad, kid. Did the drougers get you a little worse than we thought?" Han sat
down on the couch and pulled Luke to sit with him so he could look him over.
Luke, still half lost in the Force, said nothing. The tendril of brightness that was Han touched him, ever so gently, tipping his head from side to side. He resisted the temptation to catch Han's hand, to ruthlessly grasp the brightness and use it to color his world again from the grays it was fading into.
"Trust you to find a rare and nasty subspecies of corridor ghoul. They don't carry venom,
though, so you were pretty lucky." He turned Luke's face again and pushed the robe aside to look at his shoulder. "Damn, you're pale, and this bite's not healing up either." He checked Luke's flesh-hand and his arms. "The scratches are all gone. How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine."
"Kid," Han's tone was serious and hard in ears that hadn't heard another voice in days. "Luke, you're not even in the same sector as fine. Your sister sent me here to drag you back to the medcenter so the docbots could check
you over for any delayed reaction to the attack."
"I'm fine," Luke insisted, more solidly. He was fully back to himself.
"When did you eat last?"
Luke just shook his head. The hunger nearly nauseated him, but how to tell his friend that food would not help? That it passed through unchanged when it stayed down at all?
"That settles it." Han commed for a robohack, wincing as the taxi dispatcher said there would
be a ten minute delay, while Luke tried to stop him. "You're going in and letting them look you over. You can do it the easy way, or I can carry you in." He gave a wry little grin. "You know I hate pulling rank, so don't make me."
"I'll go." Luke followed when Han withdrew his hands, wanting to keep the contact, feel the
touch. The gesture didn't go unnoticed, but Han kept his mouth shut. For the first time, Luke seemed to notice he was wearing his bathrobe. "I'll go change."
No wonder Luke is sick, Han thought, staring at the darkened room while he waited. Room's
all cold and stale, the air-recycler turned off. No food, no company, no air, just him and the Force.
They rode to the med center in silence. Luke knew he should draw away, quit pressing
against the warm brightness of his friend, using Han's energy to fan his own flagging vitality. He couldn't. The constant brightness of the trillions of life-forms on Coruscant left him confused and ravenous. Han was stable, and close. He encouraged Han to wrap an arm around his waist when they got out, half-supporting him into the med-center like any good older brother would.
The humanoid receptionist took his information and sent them through a pair of doors to a
triage room. Luke sagged into a chair, drawing Han down with him.
"Hurry up and wait," Han grumbled, settling in beside Luke, one arm around his
shoulders. The kid was so weak, he didn't know how Luke was staying on his feet. He felt cold
to Han's touch, and seemed to be soaking up body-heat to replace his own.
"Skywalker," called a diagnostic stretcher from the door. Luke flinched at the sound of
his name, as if it were foreign to him, and stood up slowly. He crossed the floor alone and lay
down on the stretcher. It began taking vitals, whirring to itself as it floated off. Han followed. He wasn't going to leave Luke here, not in the shape the kid was in.
While Luke was being poked and prodded by various equipment, Han excused himself to a
public terminal just across the hall. Still keeping an eye on Luke through the open door, he
commed Leia's office.
She beamed at him, then quickly turned serious. "How is he?"
"Bad, sweetheart, really bad. He's not eating or sleeping as far as I can tell. He's listless, like he could collapse at any time. The droids are looking him over right now. Are you going to come by?"
She sighed. "I'm sorry, darling, but that delegation from the Rim is being stubborn. It
doesn't look like I'll be able to come home for a few days."
"I've got my comlink. I'll call if anything changes."
"Keep me posted. I promise, things will let up, and we'll have some time together soon ."
She blew him a kiss and switched off.
Han flicked the terminal off desolately. More and more, his so-called romance was
devolving into com conversations that ended in less than a minute. He hadn't actually seen Leia in person for two weeks, and then it had been a brief kiss, a hasty lunch (interrupted by three
comcalls) a second kiss that never even connected with his skin, and him sitting alone with a beer
and a half-eaten meatpie.
"Han?" The half-whisper drew his attention to where Luke leaned against the doorway.
"Kid, you should be lying down ." He readied himself to catch his friend.
"Droids say they're done and need some time to analyze. I can go home."
"I'll take you there."
Luke looked up, grateful that Han would give so much. He winced at the contact when
Han wrapped an arm around his waist and encouraged him to drape an arm across his shoulders.
The nearness was impossible. He could feel Han's life-force warming him, and he wanted nothing
more than to wrap himself up in it, keep Han there forever.
They made their slow way out of the medcenter.
***
Luke sat on the edge of the bed, so cold now that Han was leaving. The hunger still ached
within him, despite his having eaten under his friend's watchful eye. Han caught the wanting look
on Luke's face as he turned at the door. "Do you want me to stay, Luke?"
"Leia will want you home," Luke said, staring at the high polished boots Han wore. He
couldn't look up at Han's face. If he did, he'd beg.
"Nah, she's in conference for about a week. She'll never know the difference ." Luke
could almost hear him thinking the words "or even care ." Han came over and sat beside him, and
Luke immediately moved in closer, wanting the body contact that had silenced the hunger for a
while. "She sleeps in that big conforma-lounge in her office more nights than not."
"What's wrong between you?" Luke asked softly.
"I don't know, kid. She's married to her work, and I'm the guy who looks good on her
arm at state functions. Not sure what there ever was between us really, 'cept a lot of adrenaline
catching fire from hot tempers."
"You can sleep on the couch, if you want," Luke offered, never moving out of the
protective circle of Han's arm, never losing a millimeter of body contact.
"Or I could make things really easy on us and sleep here, so you don't scream me awake
with a nightmare ." Han remembered all too clearly Yavin and Endor. Luke had never slept well
after battles, vivid and violent nightmares pursuing him from sleep into wakefulness and hanging
on him even by day. Seeing the same haunted depth in the blue eyes now, he wordlessly reached
down to tug off his boots.
A wan smile touched Luke's mouth, moving nothing but his lips. It felt like an agonizing
rictus smeared over his face, and he quickly buried it. "Thank you. I just--" he looked away, at
anything but the man who held him against the pain and thirst, "I didn't want to be alone."
"Kinda figured. When was the last time you slept, Luke? Or have you just been
meditating instead?"
"Meditating mostly. It reduces my need for sleep."
"Tonight, you sleep ." Han lay back and patted the mattress beside him. "Right here since
you seem to want to cuddle a lot."
"You don't mind?"
"I'd have pushed you away in the aircab if I minded." Han wrapped him in close, letting
Luke take the warmth he needed.
Luke slept fitfully, nightmares engulfing him, hunger assailing him like the beasts he
fought. The drougers came, wave after wave, all teeth and claws. Han stood at the edge of his
vision, watching him as if bored by the sight of his best friend fighting for his life. He went down among arms covered in coarse grey hair, his flesh parting under sharp talons.
Luke jerked awake in Han's arms. Han held him very close, and made soothing sounds as
he buried his face in the warm chest under his cheek
"Stars, kid, that was a bad one. Thought you'd never wake up."
"Drougers." The word was muffled by Han's chest.
"You got real cold before you woke up. I've touched warmer corpses. I hope the med
droids come up with something soon."
Before local dawn, the comm pinged. "Message for Jedi Skywalker from the med center.
Report at once for more blood work."
"Leave it to you to baffle the droids, kid." Han tried to keep his voice light as he tugged
on his boots and shoved a cup of kaf into Luke's cold hands. He tried not to notice the hasty way
Luke gulped it, heedless of the heat. Or the way he went straight to the water dispenser and
quaffed a liter without pausing for breath. Or the way he ignored his favorite pastries on the table and drank more water.
They arrived in the medcenter, and the droids poked and prodded Luke some more, taking
samples of his skin, hair and saliva. Han watched uncomfortably as the tests proceeded, and
excused himself to call Leia when the droids started drawing blood.
"Sweetheart, I'm going to stay with Luke for a while until he's back on his feet. The droids
don't know anything."
"Han, you're so good to do this. Stay as long as he needs you. I'll come as soon as I can,
darling. Take good care of him for me."
Lunch from the medcenter dispensary made the Falcon's emergency concentrates look like
a gourmet meal. Han pushed the flavorless blue and orange stew around in the bowl, watching
Luke drink the fortified broth and liter after liter of water.
The wall-chrono clicked over numbers with monotonous regularity as they waited. The
holo babbled to itself in the corner, not loud enough for any of the waiting beings to understand it, but loud enough to annoy. Luke meditated, sensing Han as a tense presence at his side, acutely
aware of his energy signature.
The meddroids summoned Luke back to the conference room and displayed their results.
A virus of some sort was devouring the mitochondria in Luke's cells, leaving him exhausted, and
altering the normal functioning of the red and white blood cells. They had traced it to the drouger saliva in the wound on his neck. The wound would have to be excised, removing the infected flesh which was rapidly metastasizing through Luke's system, spreading the mutant cells with no mitochondria. The labs were in the process of making an anti-viral, and Jedi
Skywalker was to report back at local dawn for surgery.
"Why can't you take him now?" Han demanded. "He's not getting any better."
"General Solo, we must have the anti-viral so that he will heal after the surgery ."
Somehow the meddroid managed to sound pompous and reassuring at once. "A proper supply
should be synthesized by tomorrow. Also, we need to make sure we have enough of Jedi
Skywalker's rather uncommon blood synthesized in case of full replacement. No food or water
after midnight, Jedi Skywalker, and we will see you in the morning. Please fill out all the
permissions and waivers before you leave."
"Oh joy, paperwork," Han grumbled as he and Luke walked to Admissions. Luke said
nothing, his eyes unfocused, like a clouded summer sky. He knew where he was walking and had
to focus on taking one step at a time. The broth hadn't helped much, and his stomach raved at
him, demanding his attention.
They found the desk and Luke began filling in the datapad. He listed Leia as his next of
kin and Han as his emergency contact. Although the way Han was hovering, Luke suspected he
wouldn't leave before the doors of the surgery swung shut in his face. Finished, he sank back in
the seat, and let Han take the pad to the desk's download. Tomorrow, he would be well. He
would be able to sleep, free of the nightmares. Free, too, of the ravenous hunger and thirst.
He took Han's hand, using his friend's strength to rise, and leaned on the taller man as they
made their way back to his apartment. He assailed the foodsynth, having found that the fortified
broth stayed down and helped marginally with the thirst as well.
Han watched, growing more and more worried. Luke had taken in at least a decaliter
today, and Han had yet to see him sweat or visit the 'fresher. Something was very wrong, and he
only hoped the droids could cure it.
They commed Leia's office, leaving her the message that Luke was having surgery at dawn
and Han would stay with him at least two more nights. They watched the holo news in silence,
Luke never straying from Han's side. It was the only way he had found to stay away from the food
synth.
He meditated, blocking out the noise of the holo, and concentrating on the Force. It felt
different, odd. He just rested in it, not seeking the future nor trying to make sense of the past. All was grey. The Dark Side did not hover, whispering, tempting as it so often did, but the Light was not to be found either. Only the sense of interconnectedness remained.
Luke came up from the Force when Han nudged him. "Luke, time for bed. We have to be
up early. You need a drink before we sleep?"
Luke shook his head and changed into sleep pants before lying down. Han programmed
the robovalet for a second set of pants to fit his larger frame, and waited while it processed the
request.
"You all right with this? I can get a sleep shirt too. I just needed to clean my clothes after sleeping in them yesterday."
"It's ok." The response was a whisper. Luke didn't care if Han was dressed in six layers or
naked, as long as he was there.
Han lay down beside him, never moving when Luke curled in close. "I'll be glad when you
feel better, Luke." This was not what Luke expected to hear. Han had to be very worried if he
was actually expressing concern in words instead of actions. The actions had been constant and
effective. Even now Luke absorbed Han's warmth as he had absorbed the water earlier: a
necessity. He drifted, his mind wandering in the Force, his body sinking into sleep state.
He prowls the darkened corridors, the empty undercity. Nothing moves here, except him,
the hunter. He doesn't know what he hunts, but something is there...
Han awoke to an empty bed shortly before dawn.
*****
