coolhandluke | Ahch-To, Baby

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Ahch-To, Baby

There were a lot of things Luke hadn't asked himself in the years since arriving on Ach-To. Some because he didn't want to know--or imagine--the answers. Some because there was no reason to borrow more trouble than he already had, and the litany of regrets was already long enough. Some because, well, they just weren't thinks that Luke Skywalker ever thought of.

Like the fact that he looked like some old Jedi hermit, complete with beard and unkempt hair and dingy robes. It hadn't exactly been part of the plan, but then, there hadn't been anyone to comment, or even a mirror.

That was the outside, however. Inside, something in Luke had died long ago, stopping in its tracks. Meeting himself, he would have assumed wisdom and calm, if a little eccentricity. But that hadn't been why Luke had come here, and it hadn't been what he'd found. No, it wasn't the Jedi Master who had retreated. It was the scared farm-boy, who'd flown too high and been brought crashing to ground. It was Luke from Tatooine, who had tried to be Master Skywalker, the hero, and failed.

That was what he'd been running from. That expectation, and his failure at it. That, and the disaster he knew his presence would bring to what was left of what he and the Rebellion had built, if Ben knew where he was. Better, he'd thought, to close himself off and shut down before he hurt anyone else. By his own hand, or by leading Kylo Ren to exact revenge.

It was not so simple a thing, however, to die. Unwilling to take any more lives, including his own, he lingered. Unwilling to open himself up to the Force, he nevertheless existed within it, his body sustained by it as much as by the food he caught. For awhile it seemed that he would just continue, in a sort of limbo of his own making, unwilling to make a move that would upset the galaxy even further than his presence already had.

Until she came.

Rey held a mirror up to him, one he wasn't always willing to gaze into but one from which it was impossible to escape--not least because she simply wouldn't go away. At first resentful, he quickly became resigned.

And then, suddenly, he became expectant. Not hopeful--he would not go so far as to say that--but there came a morning when he realized he would be disappointed to find her gone, given up. Despite his fear, despite his warnings, he wanted her to persist.

Maybe because he hadn't. And as much shame as he felt over that fact, the shame was at least an emotion. And as much as he'd tried to suppress those over the past years, the irritation at her arrival had begun to wear away at his resolve like grains of sand until emotions he'd thought long buried began to unearth themselves.

The truth was, Luke Skywalker was every bit the mess he looked. And yet, the longer she stayed, the less he could find it within himself to resent it. He'd been too long alone, and too long waiting. It only stood to reason that he'd bend to the first wind that came.

Wasn't how this had all started, to begin with?

The sun had barely risen when he took position, waiting outside the hut she'd claimed, unwilling to seem too eager but having to quash a small stirring of impatience, just the same. Warnings not to get too close, too attached, flickered in his mind's eye like a glitched holovid. But Luke had never once detached from anything--and if going to the most remote location he could find hadn't done it, he didn't know that it was worth trying, anymore.

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"You don't need me," she told him with laughter in her voice. She hesitated for a moment before cheekily adding, "You might want me, but you certainly don't need me. And even if you did, that wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen. People... need people, sometimes."

Rey had never needed anyone, but she'd be a liar if she claimed that the thought of one day finding her family or finding that missing part of herself hadn't been a major motivator for her throughout her life. So maybe she didn't need Luke specifically, but... if she let herself cross this bridge, she might just end up needing him the way she needed air. That was a scary thought.

And yet....

"You can tell me anything, Luke, or do anything," she assured him softly, lightly grasping their clasped hands with her free one. "Who would I tell? A porg? I think they have other things to concern themselves with."

It was odd, how every word sent a thrill through him that carried in its wake a flare of an old pain, as if with every renewed burst of life or energy came the reminder why he'd given up on all of it. And yet, he didn't think he could go back, now.

Which was a lie, of course. He didn't want to.

"You think this is about what other people would think?" he said wonderingly, watching her face. Wasn't being seen by her enough to terrify him? Wasn't what she thought enough, even without the added tension of the attraction between them?

"Well-... why else would you not tell me something? You'd have to be worried about what someone might think about it, right? And if you already know that you can tell me anything without worrying about me judging you for it, then...."

They were virtually alone on an island, away from anyone who might understand or care about society's rules for this sort of thing. They could make up their own rules as they went along, and Rey had every intention of doing just that... though she'd hesitate if Luke continued to show too many reservations about it all. After all, despite that shared dream of theirs, Rey was more than happy to simply sit there besides Luke and talk with him; being able to hold his hand while doing so now was just a surprise added bonus.

His hand twitched slightly, as if trying to decide whether to stay in her grasp, and he sighed.

"I've... done things," he said after a moment, the words falling heavily in the quiet room. "Things it is hard for me to talk about. Things I've never talked about. I had reasons for coming here, Rey. Reasons that have to do with the safety of others, but not only that."

There were things he had trouble admitting to himself, let alone another person. Rey might not judge, but she could not understand. And nothing would make him feel better about what he'd done.

"And I thought you'd come here on holiday."

The low words were clearly meant to be a joke, but she knew that this wasn't the sort of situation where levity would help matters. While his hand might have twitched in hers, she gave his a squeeze as she moved a little closer to him, wanting him to know that she was being sincere as she continued to speak quietly.

"Everyone has a past, Luke. And I'm not here to tell you to forget about your past and move on. I just want to remind you that you also have a future. And, if you'll let me, I'd like to be part of it. In whatever way you'll let me."

He wasn't dead enough not to realize it was kind of funny. Still, he didn't laugh, and the slight smile it had elicited had begun to fade as he searched her face as well as his own feelings for how to respond. You also have a future.

"I came here," he said softly, with an odd gentleness as if what he was saying might hurt her, "so that I wouldn't."

At first, his words didn't entirely make sense. She frowned slightly, then realized, "So that you wouldn't have a future?" Short of him coming here with the intention of actively killing himself, that didn't make sense to Rey. Every choice we made impacted how our futures would turn out. As a Jedi Master, he had to have known that.

"Clearly that didn't work out so well," she told him evenly. "Because I've found you, and I told you I'm not leaving this island without you. So you're either going to rejoin society, or else we're going to have to find some way to keep ourselves occupied for a long time."

This time, Luke did laugh.

"This is the first morning in years I've woken up more worried about today than the day before," he said, shaking his head at the enormity of all that implied, simple as it sounded. "One thing at a time, all right? 'Lean into it.'"

He was barely ready to admit he didn't mind so much the feeling of being alive, let alone planning for some future he'd never wanted. What came next? Was anyone's guess, and he had no idea how to go about even starting to know.

Rey wasn't sure if it was entirely a good thing that he'd woken up worried, though she really couldn't say anything on that score; after all, she'd woken up in a panic. But that seemed so long ago now, after they'd gotten all this in the open and she knew she hadn't simply had a depraved dream.

"Lean into it," she echoed softly. Nodding gently, she managed a small smile as she decided, "I can do that."

Of course, she meant it in a slightly different way than he did, given the way she leaned forward, gingerly setting her head on Luke's shoulder.

"Oh."

He startled slightly at the touch, but did not move away or rise. Part of this was just the unfamiliarity with contact, of late. Part was the thrill of the uncertain and new, knowing this was going somewhere and feeling a little adolescent in the wonder that engendered in him. And yet, he was not nearly so impulsive as he'd once been--and he'd never been all that forward with the ladies.

But he had to do something, now that they'd danced awkwardly around this for the past several hours. His token resistance was just that, but he didn't want her to get the idea that he was holding back. He didn't think she'd like that, somehow. There had to be a sign that he was in this, too. As odd and unlike himself as he felt.

So after a moment, he shifted to wrap one arm around her shoulders, tucking her closer, willing himself to relax.

She could feel the tension in Luke's body right away, but it felt like cheating to draw back now. She'd made the first move, relatively innocent though it might be, and she was determined to commit to it. That was how normal adults did things, right? They just... did them? Without having weird shared dreams or any sort of awkward beating around the bush?

Rey might think of herself as an adult, but she was far from normal, given how far out of her depth she currently was. How far they both were, really, so that was one small bit of comfort.

His arm around her shoulders was another small bit, even if she didn't fool herself for a second into believing that he was even a little relaxed. "Is this-...?" she started, not knowing how to finish that question that wouldn't force her to back away. That was the last thing she wanted to do, though she would if it would make things easier on him.

"If you're uncomfortable with this, we could go more slowly. I don't mind."

Luke chuckled.

"Now I know something's wrong with me," he said, "when you're the one worried about taking it too fast." It was a lie--he'd known something was wrong with him before, so that wasn't exactly in question. In any society he could think of, he'd be libeled as a pervert or slapped on the back as lucky, so it was laughable that he was the one having to be coaxed. "I think it's just the way things go," he murmured. "At no point in my life has anything happened slowly. It's a snap, a flick of a switch, changing everything."

Rey looked up at him at that chuckle, managing a small smile in response. "I don't want to be a 'snap,'" she told him gently. "Snaps are over as soon as they happen. I-... don't do this sort of thing often, Luke-... all right, I've never done this, any of this - so if I'm going to start now, I'm going to invest time in it. You're worth it."

She knew that was a bit ridiculous of her to say, given that this whole conversation had started because they'd both realized they'd been fantasizing about one another in such a realistic way that only the Force can be to blame, but she meant it. With a small shrug of her shoulders, she told him, "Fast or slow, I don't mind so long as it lasts as long as we can manage it."

"That... is not what I meant," he said, shaking his head slowly. "I thought I was done with change--that's the one thing that has set apart my time here. Nothing changes. Where in my life... it's been turned on its head more times than I can count by a moment, a word."

A dream.

"The realities of that new world weren't a snap. Maybe you'll understand, one day. If you find your parents. Though I hope, for your sake, that path is different for you than for me."

Rey looked down at the mention of her parents, simultaneously feeling bad about having abandoned her post on Jakku and also feeling something strange and foreign to her. She'd wasted so much of her life waiting for them, hiding behind the idea that they would come back for her. She didn't give up the hope of being reunited with them one day, or even necessarily that they were still looking for her, but she'd been foolish not to be more proactive in trying to figure out where they'd gone after Jakku and searching for them across the galaxy. Instead, she'd allowed herself to grow stagnant, just as Luke had.

"You're breathing," she pointed out patiently, swallowing around the complicated mess of emotions that always cropped up when she thought of her parents. "You're thinking. You're living. So no, you're not done with change. And even if you are, it's clearly not done with you."

"But... I wasn't," he pointed out patiently. He still wasn't sure he had the right to, after what he'd been ready to do. "Breathing, yes. Living?" He shook his head. "If anything, this just... makes it all make sense. Because it doesn't." He chuckled again. "And this is what neither of us came here for, so it must be all right."

"I didn't know people could come back from the dead," Rey remarked wryly. She knew what he was talking about, of course, but she needed to poke fun at it, just a little.

She kept her eyes on him as she moved just a little closer to him, hugging him again. "This is all all right, Luke," she told him quietly. "We're allowed to believe that. We have to believe that, if we actually want this to work."

Did he? Want this to work?

He was quiet for a long moment, mulling that over. What did it mean, to want a future? To want a relationship? To allow his heart to beat, his spirit to rejoin the flow of the universe?

Without knowing it, at first, tears began to roll down his cheeks. It was not, exactly, despair. More an overflow of emotion he was no longer capable of dealing with.

The tears alarmed her, and without thinking she raised her hands to lightly cup his cheeks, gently wiping them away with her thumbs. "Shh," she told him softly, though she wasn't necessarily telling him to stop crying. Just the opposite, really. If he felt the need to cry, she could no more tell him to stop that than she could demand he not laugh or smile.

"It's all right. I'm here, and I won't leave you, not unless you want me to." And not even then, really, considering how stubborn she's been on that whole matter this entire time.

"I'm sorry," he says, scrubbing a rough sleeve across his face. "I'm ... a mess, Rey. I haven't allowed myself to feel in so long, I..." He shrugs helplessly, but it does not dislodge her from his side. "I've fallen so far, Rey, I... don't know that I deserve to come back."

"Of course you do," she tells him automatically, shaking her head. "Luke, we don't always have control over our feelings, so it's inevitable that everyone will be a mess at some point in their lives. We all fall. But that doesn't mean it's impossible to get back up again. Even if we need to hold on to someone on the way up. The question is whether you think it's worth it."

She didn't understand. She couldn't. She didn't know what he'd done--and what he'd not been able to prevent. She did not know how dark his soul really was.

Dark enough that he was considering letting her stay. Letting this happen.

"That isn't up to me," he said sadly. "But you say..." His brow furrows. "Leia sent you?"

She really didn't understand. She believed firmly in everyone having the freedom to make their own choices in life, and so of course this should be up to him. After all... she'd been trapped by her own choices, resigning herself to a life of unchained captivity on Jakku. She didn't want him doing the same for himself.

A little confused by the sudden mention of Leia, Rey blinked and replied, "She did, yes. She couldn't exactly come herself, since she had a Resistance to lead. And I'm... well, I'm probably the most expendable person she had."

Rey knew that wasn't entirely true, that she'd volunteered for this specifically because she wanted to learn more about the Force. But as for why Leia would agree to that otherwise, it was anyone's guess.

"That's not true," he said, and was not merely reflex. Nor was it bias--unless, perhaps, towards his sister. "Leia does nothing by half-measures. If she sent someone to find me, she meant it. If she meant it... She would send the right person for the job."

He wondered what that meant. Not only that Leia was reaching out, after those years of walling herself off to him until he stopped reaching back, but that she had sent Rey.

How would she look at Luke now, when he was continuing to fail her?

"She knows me better than anyone in the universe," he continued after a moment. "If she sent you, it was because she knew you'd be able to get through to me. That I wouldn't be able to ignore you."

And she had to have known that Rey would remind him of her.

Whether or not Luke intended his words as a reflex, that was exactly how Rey took them. At least, until he went on about his sister and how much she knew him. The faint, knowing smile that had been on her face when it had seemed as though Luke was simply jumping to her defense faded the more he spoke.

Could that have been true? Had Leia sent her because she saw something in her that would appeal to Luke? Had she even known that it would appeal to him in that sort of way?

No, she decided. Whatever reason Leia might have had for sending her beyond just the fact that she'd had to send someone, it couldn't have been because she'd foreseen the pair of them getting along quite this well. No one could have been perceptive enough to have seen that coming.

So instead of touching on any of that, Rey only looked at Luke for a moment before softly remarking, "You tried, at first. But... I guess she was right. Eventually, you just couldn't." She managed a bit of that former smile again, mentioning, "Maybe she could just tell how stubborn I can be when I want to be."

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