Star Wars Rain

**Rain**

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_**A/N**__**:**__ I do not own Star Wars_

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**Timeframe****: sometime between ANH and ESB**

I can't help but wonder sometimes if the kid has a few grains of sand missing from his dune. There are times when Luke Skywalker is the smartest kid I know; times like when he leads Rogue Squadron in battle.

The kid truly has leadership in him, and I can see his future being one of teaching. That would suit him well.

But then there are times when he throws me for a complete loop… like right now.

I don't think he knows I am watching, but Luke is standing out in the rain, arms hanging loosely at his sides. And Luke is not merely standing just outside the protective overhang of the hangar bay; no, that would be too… simple.

No, the kid is positioned in the middle of the clearing, allowing the wintry droplets to soak him clear through.

Thoughts of colds and fevers pass through my mind, and I curse, thinking of how that would be just like the farm kid to go and get himself sick. And the Alliance doesn't need anyone else in medical.

I must be going soft, if I am thinking of the Alliance first. I shake my head to clear it.

Out in the open, Luke spreads his arms out from his side and leans his head backwards. I observe rivulets of water running the stringy lengths of his wet hair to form miniature-scale waterfalls.

I open my mouth to call him in out of the storm, but then I finally allow myself to see how relaxed the kid is.

That is something I haven't seen since I can't remember when, so I close my maw again. Let him have his moment.

Then something I mentioned earlier caught up with me: Luke is a farmboy, yes, but he's a _moisture_ farmer… from the most barren planet in the galaxy. Tatooine probably gets one major storm a year… if the inhabitants are lucky.

So it's no wonder that Luke would practically worship the rain, treating it like it was a mound of credit-chips. Because to a moisture farmer, a storm like the one we're in right now would be a miracle, a jackpot winning.

Something tugs at my gut then, a feeling that all is not what it seems. I didn't get these hokey feelings until Luke and I became friends… I know he's been rubbing off on me.

Thinning my lips, I walk out to join him, gasping at first as the chilly rain goes right through my white shirt. I feel my breath quicken until my skin adjusts to the new temperature.

Finally I reach his side, but remain quiet when he keeps his eyes closed, face upturned. I know he knows I'm here now. It seems like ages before Luke finally lowers his limbs, and turns his face to me.

And that's when I see what my gut was telling me.

I would never have known had he not looked at me with his too-innocent blue eyes, because the traces are all hidden by the droplets also coursing down his cheeks. It makes me wonder if he's actually out here for some privacy more than to enjoy the storm's showers. And if that was the case he couldn't have chosen a more secluded spot.

Most people I know hate getting caught in the rain.

But I see it in the redness of his eyes, and now I can hear his nearly silent sniffles. He doesn't say anything still, though he can see my concern.

He merely offers a small smile and turns back to the storm, now beginning to enter the more violent stages via lightning and thunder.

Now I know for sure that we will need to find cover soon. But not yet. I sense Luke needs more time. He needs his trice … he will speak when ready.

I don't have to wait much longer.

"You know, if my uncle were here right now, he'd be having a heart attack at how much water was being wasted. Even if it is a rain storm." Luke looks down at the mass of puddles that riddled the ground. "He'd be out here right now with every barrel and bucket he owned, trying to capture all the precious water he could. And Aunt Beru would be offering every bowl and cup in her kitchen."

Luke falls silent for a few heartbeats before he shakes his head.

"I can't believe it's been a few years already since they… were killed." Luke's voice cracks with emotion, causing my heart to prick with sympathy.

I lay a hand on his shoulder. "They would be proud of the man you've become."

He offers another smile, this one grateful, and I know he is on the upslope now. Luke's strong like that, resilient.

Sometimes I'm jealous of his ability to bounce back from anything with his positive, optimistic outlook on life still intact. Although he's not nearly as green as he was when I picked him up in that cantina.

The scars show to me because I knew him as the wet-behind-the-ears boy who was eager to make a difference in the galaxy. I feel sad that some of his innocence is gone; it slowly whittles away every time he saddles up his X-wing, or takes a life.

The largest dent in his innocence however was his 'impossible shot' at Yavin IV. I see the haunted look Luke gets when it's brought up, and I know he knows the true cost and effect of what he did.

Innocent men who were nothing more than honest workers providing for families were also on that space station.

He and I have had many a late-night conversation about that day. I have finally helped him to see that while what he did was a waste of innocent Imperial lives; in doing so he protected _billions _of other innocents from Alderaan's fate.

Luke has since made peace with that battle.

The kid turns to me with a sheepish smirk. "Guess we should get indoors."

I snort with laughter at his remark, but remain otherwise quiet. Nothing more needed to be said. He'd wept for his loss, and he'd spoken about it. He was fine now.

And I knew our friendship was still intact.

Luke and I turn almost in tandem and return to the base, leaving sodden footprints in our wake, which earns a glare from the deck officer.

Luke shoots me a wry glance, and we share a laugh. Luke's eyes are no longer red from crying, but bright with the relief of having vented.

I glance back toward the bay doors, and the now-raging storm outside.

Maybe, just maybe the rain isn't such a bad thing to be caught in after all.


End file.

Star Wars, Friendship, Hurt-Comfort