Storms (A Star Wars Fanfic)

PART 5

"Hello? Hello? Do you copy?" Leia's faint voice from the intercom struggled through the relative silence of the cabin.

Luke coughed reflexively as he felt a blinding pain in his neck. What is that? he thought, terrified. He shakily traced his fingers up to his throat, relieved that it was still intact. His eyes were still closed, but he traced further along his neck, flinching when he touched the gash.

"Luke? Do you read me? DOES ANYBODY READ ME?" Luke heard Leia's fuzzy voice shout. His eyes shot open. His vision was hazy and dizzying, but he knew that he had to work through it.

He jumped forward, wasting no time, though the action made his stomach lurch and the wound on his neck throb even worse than it had before. He jammed his thumb into the intercom button clumsily.

"Send help!" he replied. His voice was ragged. "There was a cliff...I didn't see it...Leia, send help!"

"They've crashed," Luke heard Leia saying urgently to someone in the background. "Are you hurt?!" she demanded.

"Just send help! Please!" Luke shouted, his voice cracking in desperation. Before Leia could reply, however, there came a menacing hum from the ship.

"What -" Luke said as he looked around for the source of the hum, but he was cut off. Whatever emergency lights there had been in the cabin shut off. Luke heard Leia's voice no more.

He flipped switches and levers and pressed meaninglessly on buttons, but it was no use. They were unresponsive. "Fuck," he said, any hope of contacting Leia destroyed.

It was at this moment he realized you hadn't said a word.

"Hey! Hey! Are you okay?"

You didn't reply.

He struggled to turn around in his seat to look at you, unfastening himself to make the task easier.

"Shit," he breathed, in shock.

Your forehead was coated in your own blood. He couldn't see the wound.

"FUCK!" he exclaimed. He clambered out of his seat into a cramped space next to yours. He unfastened you.

"Oh my God, oh shit," he said. A string of vulgarity ran out of his mouth as he examined you. You were unresponsive.

"No, no, no, no, NO!" he thought aloud. He felt tears making their way down his cheeks.

He had felt it too, getting into the airspeeder. He had heard the laughter. He had attempted to drown it out by messing around with the controls before takeoff, but he had heard it. And now, as he struggled to keep his composure, he heard it again. The sound of sleepless nights, daydreaming, walking a bit too close together. He heard Han's distant, dreamlike voice repeating in his head: "She's not going to wait around forever, kid." Luke remembered calling Han a hypocrite, for not taking his own advice regarding Leia. But that didn't matter now. It was all Luke could hear. The sound of missed opportunities.

He pressed his ear to your chest, but he couldn't hear any heartbeat through the raging storm outside. He tried to feel for your pulse, but his hands were shaking too violently to feel anything. He wished he was more adept in the Force to sense if you were alive or not, but it was no use.

Whether you were alive or not, he knew he was. And that meant he had to get both of you out of the storm as fast as possible. He struggled to see out of the top of the aircraft. Through the sand, he could see the cliff the speeder had crashed into. He could not see how far it stretched, but he knew he had to find out.

He scrounged around in the wrecked cabin, finding a small roll of bandages. He hurriedly wrapped all he could use around his neck, to stop the sand from getting into the wound. He stared at you after he did so, struggling with the notion of leaving you behind, so vulnerable. But he knew what he had to do.

He tore his gaze away from you, and pressed the button to open the top of the aircraft. It acted as a shield from the harsh weather, so you were fairly safe when it was open, but outside...it was hell. He struggled out of the craft, immediately hit by the force of the storm. He took one look back at you. Your hair moved with the occasional breeze that made its way past the makeshift shield, but you were otherwise undisturbed. He hoped you'd be alright.

He turned, shielding the sand from his face with his left hand, tracing his way along the cliffside with his right. He trudged through the sand in a straight line along the wall, often slipping or tripping over his own feet; he found his legs to be weak from the crash.

He knew not how long he walked, but soon he felt a sort of emptiness in the cliffside. A cave? A hole? He struggled to find it until he fell sideways directly into a hollow space in the wall. He grunted as he hit the floor. Though he was worried about you, he was somewhat glad that you weren't there to see his clumsiness. He got to his feet and examined the cave, igniting his lightsaber to guide his way. It was cool, and dark. Though his Force sense was weak, he could detect no malicious life form in the area. This would be a good place to take shelter. He took one last look at the place, then set off again, back to the ship.

(Time Skip)

He cradled you gently in his arms, holding you close to his chest as he trudged through the storm once more, so the sand would not harm the gash in your forehead. He could only hope that there were spare bandages in the care package that hung from the belt around his waist, weighing him down. He looked down to your peaceful visage constantly, watching you for any sign of life. The blood from your wound had seeped into the fabric of his clothes, but he didn't notice. He held you closer to him protectively.

"That's an order."

Minutes later, he laid you gently down on the cool floor of the cavern. He used his torn jacket as a makeshift pillow to put under your head. He looked over you once more. You were breathing, that much was certain. It was weak, but you were breathing.

"You're out of line, soldier."

His spiteful words echoed in his mind, giving him a pang of regret. Why did he have to do that? It was so unnecessary, so hurtful. He wanted to tell himself he didn't mean it, but he had. He sighed. What was wrong with him?

He turned away from you, unhooking the care package from his waist. He set it down a little ways away from you, and came back. He looked at the wound on your forehead. He traced his pointer finger around it, wiping some of the sand away. You winced in your unconsciousness. He took his hand away slowly. He closed his eyes and hung his head, overwhelmed with relief...regret...shame...longing...

He sighed again, a sigh that was echoed by the distant noise of the relentless storm.

"She's not going to wait around forever, kid."

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OBLIGATORY FLASHBACK SEQUENCE COMPLETE! lol. I hope you guys enjoy this. ALSO, please let me know if you find any inconsistencies with plot or grammar or anything like that; I write this all on my iPhone so it's difficult to review everything at once. thank you, and please enjoy! 💖