For Cal

[hisfathersimage]

It was two months after Endor.

A perfectly normal (for him) night's sleep was interrupted. It was like a mental hiccup, or a system reboot. He wasn't aware of anything and then-

The bond snapped into place before he gained awareness. It was old and young and familiar, a previously cautious candlelight that felt closer to a hearthfire now, tempered and warming and clear. The memories rushed back as he woke, sitting up with a choked gasp and a flare of Force awareness and anxiety bright enough that he felt Leia awaken on the otherside of the system with it.

He couldn't explain to her. To anyone. All he could do was throw on clothes as he went, grabbing the bare necessities and choking out something about 'Jedi business, another Jedi, I can feel him' before he was loading up R2 and the X-Wing.

Outer Rim.

He went to Botajef. Intersection of major hyperspace lanes. Near Dathomir, near Yavin, it felt significant and right.

And once he was there, he set himself outside of the main city and he reached out, along the bond and just in general, because he knows the bond is good, but at the same time, he isn't confident about it.

Cal Kestis. I'm here. I know you.

Comments

[hisfathersimage]

Luke gives a nod of approval at Cal's hair and twines their fingers together as they step out.

BD might be excited, but Artoo is notably ignoring Luke, grumbling to himself and refusing to look at the pair of them as he rolls over. Luke smothers his laugh at the antics and just pats the dome fondly. "Yes, I know, we're terrible biologicals, abandoning you for a whole night to ourselves."

Artoo's noise suggests that he knows full well it won't be the one night.

[bunchofscrewups]

"You're right, Artoo. It'll be as many nights to ourselves as we can steal."

BD is far from as grumbly about it, but he makes a quiet beep of protest. Cal can't blame him too much. For so long, it's only really been the two of them. Of course, there have been many others, too, but for the past decade or so, they've been the only two left at the end of the day.

[hisfathersimage]

Whereas Artoo had never really had to share Luke before. Not since Yavin. Whoever else came and went and was there or had other missions, Artoo was always attached to Luke and his X-Wing.

"You're just going to have to learn to share," Luke pointed out. "It's not like you're being replaced, but Cal's special and he's not going anywhere, okay? Not unless he wants to." His hand rubs over the dome again. "I don't get jealous of Threepio, do I?"

Artoo's sound suggested that no, Luke didn't do that.

[bunchofscrewups]

So Artoo doesn't only have Luke but Threepio too. What a greedy little droid. Cal keeps that to himself, smiling widely to himself.

"Don't worry. Me and BD understand very well."

Not everyone would.

[hisfathersimage]

"See?" Luke still sounds just fond, rather than exasperated like he very easily could be. "And you and BD can complain about how disgusting us biological creatures are."

He starts walking again, keeping hold of Cal's hand and presuming everyone will keep up with him.

[bunchofscrewups]

Cal keeps up, of course, given the hand in his. BD-1 is, as always, happily along for the ride.

"I've often said to BD that I wish I were a droid. On days like this, for example, when I really should have changed clothes a couple of days ago."

And every time BD has rebuttals about how being a droid has some drawback in a similar vein to whatever Cal is complaining about at the time. So, as expected, BD points out that droids require maintenance too.

"I'm not so sure it feels the same, BD."

[hisfathersimage]

"Okay, cutting in here as the guy with a biological and mechanical parts, not comparable. We definitely need cleaning more often, you guys stay clean, barring external factors."

The hand holding Cal's tightens briefly, reflexively. "Maintenance is more like a medical."

[bunchofscrewups]

"Looks like I win our debate," Cal says with a grin, looking over his shoulder at BD-1. The rapid beeps of protest he gets in response only makes him laugh. "I am not biased! You and me have been together for twenty years, BD. Luke is simply the only one here with experience of both. I win."

[hisfathersimage]

"Sorry, buddy." Luke doesn't sound apologetic, but it's true, he's got the experience in both and the mechanical hand is much less trouble most of the time and certainly doesn't get sweaty, smelly and grimy like regular body parts do.

[bunchofscrewups]

There are a few more beeps of protest, but quieter, so Cal takes that as BD admitting defeat. He won't keep rubbing it in, anyway. They reach his ship not far after that, and he wastes no time heading inside to dig out fresher clothes. Fresher being the keyword, because at this point none of his clothes are particularly fresh.

[hisfathersimage]

It's surprisingly nice to just wander around hand in hand, and then to park himself outside and just watch people moving through the star port.

"Hey, aren't you-?"

"I'm not who you think I am," he replies without really thinking about it. The Force is just there, so close and so easy to touch and ask for some of its influence.

Artoo queries the ease with which Luke dismisses the curious onlooker, but he doesn't ask any further.

[bunchofscrewups]

Although Cal can't see or hear anything going on outside while he changes and packs a bag of clothes to potentially get cleaned, he does feel Luke using the Force. They're far too tightly connected for him not to.

It doesn't seem like immediate danger, but he hurries up a little and makes it out of the ship again a minute or so sooner than he might have otherwise.

"Everything okay?"

[hisfathersimage]

Luke's still relaxed, not worried by it all. He just looks as Cal approaches, already pressing soothing calm towards Cal over the bond. "It's okay, just a looky-loo who thought he recognised me."

It happens. He feels more confident about dealing with it since he's remembered everything.

[bunchofscrewups]

"If you're sure."

Everything definitely looks okay too. That helps. Cal wills some tension out of his body, his shoulders sinking just slightly, then he holds up his bag.

"I need to wash all of this before we leave the planet."

[hisfathersimage]

"We can chuck it in the laundry when we get back. If there's anything you need kept more private, we can manage in the bathroom."

They're rebels, they can manage some laundry, especially if it hasn't been on fire or soaked in blood.

Luke reaches out for Cal's hand again.

[bunchofscrewups]

"I don't think I have anything like that." He pauses for a second to think about it, as he takes Luke's hand. "I should probably check all my pockets, though."

Because, truthfully, he doesn't remember what he's left in them.

[hisfathersimage]

"Should always check pockets before washing, anyway. Beru was very firm on that after the time I left a charged battery in my pocket and it shorted the system. Owen was spitting nails, but it was Beru's disappointment that really stung."

Wasn't it always the way?

[bunchofscrewups]

"A charged battery," he says with a baffled laugh, his gaze drifting up to the skies. "I can imagine that was a pretty spectacular show. And pretty scary in the moment, I bet."

[hisfathersimage]

"The noise was pretty startling," he agrees. "We thought it was a Tusken attack at first. Things had been better, but Owen liked to remind me that it was only a matter of time before they decided we'd overstayed our welcome."

Shmi's death had scarred all the people living there.

"Of course, we worked out pretty fast what it actually was. Beru made me help her mend all the clothes that were damaged."

[bunchofscrewups]

"I think that was fair." He pauses for a moment in thought. "I don't think I've ever put a single battery in my pockets, charged or otherwise. Even when I was working on Bracca. Just didn't seem like the right place for them."

[hisfathersimage]

"Kids shove everything in their pockets. Batteries, rocks, sand mice, knick-knacks, bits of machines, sand. The sand was less intentional but it gets everywhere." He doesn't mind sand, he's used to it, but he's not going to pretend it isn't a complete pain.

"Did padawan clothes have pockets?"

[bunchofscrewups]

That gives him pause, as he tries to rack his brain for memories from those times. It's all rather clouded at this point, but ... Does he remember himself ever putting his hands in his pockets or digging around in one for something he needed? Nothing comes to mind.

"No, I don't think they did. I guess that prevents accidents from kids not thinking things through, huh?"

[hisfathersimage]

"I mean... I guess so." Luke had pockets, belts with pouches, virtually a desert survival kit's worth of stuff about his person at most times. "We're letting students have pockets, though."

Geez, time is fake.

[bunchofscrewups]

"Fine by me," he says, with a private smile at the 'we'.

Not like he'd forgotten their discussions about the future of Jedi. About teaching. But it's been a long time for him, and it's nice to be reminded. That's enough of that, though. For now.

"So. What should we do today? I've been here before, but only quick stops. Resupplying and the like."

Time IS fake

[hisfathersimage]

Whereas for Luke, it's near as fresh in his mind, with just the slight adjustment that he doesn't have to do it alone.

Teaching. Learning. Being a Jedi. He's not going to have to do it all on his own, like he was going to have to a week ago.

"Do today... Force, I don't know. Time off is sort of, not a thing I do. Or you do. What do normal people do? Should we go on a date? I haven't done that before, not here." Here not being this planet, but this reality.