Chapter Text
Luke bent his knees on his sand-surfer just like Fixer told him to. He flew through the desert flats as the wind blew through his hair and the twin suns baked the back of his neck. A giant dust cloud of sand and dirt trailed behind him and he kept his hands above his eyes to protect them from any debris. Behind him, Biggs cheered, his voice faint in the distance.
Luke grinned. He was about to beat Fixer’s time and set a new record. Bending his knees a little more, he leaned forward, building up momentum towards the turn marker. The rock was dead ahead, a pair of sand goggles placed on the top - the winner’s prize. A trophy as grand as the ones they give out at the Boonta Eve Classic in Luke’s eyes.
As he neared the rock, he kneeled down even more for a tight turnaround. His heart was in his throat as he began to turn, electricity in his veins from the thrill coursing through him. His mind went blank as he let his natural instincts take over, he became hyper-focused as he vaulted to the side. All the noise drowned out as if it was just him and this turn in the entire Galaxy.
His eyes widened as he made the full turn and grinned brightly. At the other end of the track, his friends were jumping and cheering for him. He beat Fixer, made the turn, and was about to set the highest score! He spotted Fixer down at the finish line. He wasn’t cheering like the others, instead, he was standing with his arms crossed over his chest. But he was smiling, his approval visible despite the distance. The student had finally become the master.
Luke wobbled slightly and the sand surfer became unsteady under his feet. His heart dropped and he looked down nervously in an attempt to regain his position. He overcorrected towards the left and his legs twisted up together. He wobbled back and forth before the sand surfer nose-dived into the ground, launching Luke forward. The ground rushed up to meet him and he smacked into the sand with a thud.
For a moment everything was hazy. The world around him was a brownish-gray, his senses completely numb. He coughed as he inhaled a cloud of dust and sand. He heard his friends collectively gasp by the finish line.
“Oh, stars!” one of them called out.
His body ached with every movement, his head pounding in his skull. After a few moments, he propped himself up onto his knee. The world danced and swayed around him, he took a few moments to collect himself and wobbled slightly as he stood. He only now just realized how dry his mouth was, how the sand rubbed uncomfortably on his skin, and how nauseous he was.
He turned and saw his friends rush over to him. The desert spun as his vision blurred, and he began to cough as he struggled to get a full breath. He doubled over, hacking into his sleeve between every wheezing breath.
“Luke we gotta take you back home,” Fixer insisted, “You’re havin’ one of your coughing fits again.”
Luke couldn’t answer, he couldn’t do anything but gag.
It took him a while to gain control of his breathing and calm down. His throat was raw and his back sore as he stood up.
He heaved in a couple of deep breaths, looking at his sleeve in a mixture of confusion and fear. “Is that- blood?” Biggs asked distantly.
The sound around Luke slowly fizzled away, drowned out by the sound of his pulse in his ears.
“Yeah,” Luke whispered. “I think it is.”
Luke readjusted himself in his very uncomfortable hospital cot as another strike of pain stabbed up his back. The mattress was stiff and unforgiving, and no matter how many times he tried, the sheets were always covered in a fine layer of sand and dust - it was like it was following him. The stuff always got everywhere.
The worst part of all of this was the fan positioned next to his head. The coolish warm air was nice, but every rotation caused a loud tick that Luke was sure was going to drive him insane .
He was in the local hospital in Anchorhead after his most recent coughing fit. It had caused a lot of panic from his aunt and uncle when he got home. But how couldn’t it?
They knew he had been sick for some time. It had started out slowly with a small cough. Of course, this seemed simple enough to be dry mouth, a disease that would hit every Tatooine youth at some point in their life. It was almost like a coming-of-age trial: you weren’t a real Tatooinian if you never got it. His aunt brewed him many home remedies, but it quickly spun out of control.
He was winded regularly, bouts of dizziness hit him at random times of the day- and of course, coughing. That was the main problem. The coughing fits kept him up at night, forcing him to remain awake hours after he tried to go to sleep.
He had to admit he was slightly panicked too. Luke was no medic but he knew coughing blood was never a good sign.
Under normal circumstances, he loved to visit Anchorhead with his aunt. He would remember walking the streets, Beru’s warm, soft hand in his as the hum of the spaceport was accompanied by the vibrant smells of spice, smoke, and seasoned meat. Luke would drag his aunt to every street vendor he spotted, and when they stopped for a light snack, she would let him choose the best-looking fruit set out for display and let him have the first bite.
But right now, he would give anything to leave Anchorhead and just go home.
He groaned lowly as he turned to lay on his side and faced the room, his body ached with his movement as his aunt paced back and forth. He coughed into his blanket softly, causing his throat to feel engulfed in flames. The room was small, maybe just a little bigger than his bedroom back home, which was insanely tiny and cramped.
There were two cushioned chairs tucked in the corner opposite him, currently positioned as a makeshift bed his aunt slept in every night. She hardly left his side, keeping his hair out of his face and bringing him cool water to drink. He only wished his uncle was here too.
Beru finally stopped pacing and looked as if she had just become aware of what she was doing. She sighed as she walked up to Luke and sat on the edge of his bed.
“That doctor is taking forever,” she groaned as she ran her hand through her unkempt hair. Beru yawned and rubbed her tired eyes, despite the makeshift bed, Luke doubted she had slept at all. His aunt had done nothing other than eat, drink, and worry the past couple of days.
He shuffled under his light-knit hospital sheets and moved slowly to sit up, his back pressed against his thin pillow. They were waiting on the results of his chest holoscan he had this morning and since then his stomach had been churning as they waited for the results.
He couldn’t help but worry he would be told he was incurable or a lost cause . Aunt Beru thought maybe it was a really bad case of dry mouth. But Luke couldn’t forget the blood on his sleeve or the iron-y taste in his mouth. Even still, he tried his best to remain optimistic- dwelling in his anxieties wouldn’t help anything.
His aunt stood up, straightening out her worn-out clothing. “I’m going to see what's taking so long,” She said softly. “Do you need anything?” Before Luke could say anything, the doors to his room finally slid open, revealing his very tall Bothan doctor.
His aunt jumped back, pulling over her knitted shawl and smiled softly, looking relieved. “Oh, Doctor Harand, I was going to go find you.”
“I apologize for the wait, there was a sudden emergency I had to attend to.” Doctor Harand said as he held his datapad and finished typing something up. “Alright, Luke, you ready? I’ve got your results.”
Luke straightened up, his heart skipping a beat. This was it. “Yes, sir…” he said softly. He looked at the doctor with wide eyes. His aunt placed a hand on her chest, visibly biting her lip. as she waited anxiously.
“It looks like you have Lung Rot, son,” his doctor said plainly.
Beru gasped, placing a hand over her mouth. The doctor quickly pulled out a projection of his x-ray. Lukes gaped as he saw the blue flickering holo of his lungs and ribs.
Doctor Harand pointed to the holo. “Do you see these white masses scattered throughout your lungs?”
“Uh-huh,.” Luke muttered.
“Well, this is fluid in your lungs, which can make it hard to breathe in general, especially when partaking in any strenuous activities. Your lungs are inflamed, and obviously have been for some time, I’m afraid,” the doctor said.
“Lung Rot?” Beru asked delicately like it was almost dangerous to say. “I-Is that serious? Will he be okay?”
“It can be if it goes untreated- typically this is found on Coruscant within the lower levels of the planet. Sometimes a traveler will catch it and spread it to anywhere they go.” Doctor Harand informed. “But treatment will help, I assure you.”
“But I coughed blood!” Luke protested. “Isn’t that like- not good!?” His doctor only laughed, readjusting his thin wire frame glasses.
“Yes, it can be scary when that happens. But with Lung Rot, if it's untreated like yours, you can possibly cough up bloody mucus. Perfectly normal to happen with this infection.”
Perfectly normal . He couldn’t think of anything more abnormal than coughing blood.
“Will he be able to start treatment today?” His aunt asked urgently, taking a step forward.
His doctor didn’t say anything for a moment and the silence and lack of immediate reassurance that, yes, they could treat him, punctured Luke to his core.
“We, unfortunately, have nowhere near the technology to treat something like this,” Doctor Herand admitted.
Luke went quiet, the hope he felt after hearing there was a way to get better had all but disappeared. He felt his senses slowly go numb, and all his fears, hopes, and worries began to fade. He felt nothing , he saw nothing, he heard nothing, it was just him in this hospital cot.
So he could be treated, he could be healthy once again. But there was nothing here to help him . Why would the doctor dangle his future health in his face and then quickly rip it away?
“What!?” his aunt said, aghast. Her face held a mixture of horrified and furious. “What do you mean? So he just can’t get treatment?”
Doctor Harand frowned. “This is something found more in Core Worlds, so we do not have any equipment that would be used to treat Lung Rot. We are only supplied with tools to treat the most common ailments.”
“Isn’t there anything we can do? Anything? ” Beru practically begged.
“Well- there are some programs on Coruscant, we can have Luke apply but this would mean relocating. They would be more equipped to help Luke.”
A look of relief washed over his aunt's face. “Sign him up, please! When do they start?”
“They start in about a week's time,” Doctor Harand said. “I can sign you up now if you think you are ready. Will you have off-world transport?”
“Oh- We will figure something out,” Beru assured, the doctor nodded and began to type something on his datapad.
“Alright. I will sign him up,” Doctor Harand shoved a hand in his pocket and dug for something then pulled out a data-chip. “Tomorrow I’d like to have a consultation with you and Luke about this program. But for now, this will essentially have a rundown on the entire program, how long it will take and what to expect.”
“Thank you so much,” Beru took the chip gently and tucked it into her satchel. “I will read it over with my husband and Luke this evening.”
“Good,” the doctor added with a warm laugh. He then turned to Luke and held his hands behind his back. “I think you are good to go home, Luke. Make sure not to push yourself and get as much rest as you can before you leave. I think reading over the clinical trial consent form might be good too.”
Luke nodded and smiled widely, a flood of relief washing over him. He could be treated, he wasn’t doomed after all! And, even better, he was going to travel in a literal spaceship. He was actually going to leave this dumb rock to go to the Core Worlds!
If only he didn’t have to wait a week before leaving.
Yeah, sure, it wasn’t under ideal circumstances, but still, he had to take what he could get. All he could think about was the feeling of take-off and the galaxy at the edge of his fingertips.
Has his father been to Coruscant, too? Would he walk the same exact streets his father had years ago? The thought of following in his father's footsteps ignited something in his chest, a warmth and a sense of excitement rushing through him.
“Alright, I am going to sign your discharge papers and you can head on out,” his doctor said. “Good luck with the trials, Mr. Skywalker.”
“Thanks, sir!” Luke sat up eagerly then coughed slightly into his elbow. The doctor gave him and Beru a nod before stepping out of his room.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
His guardian's whispers were anything but quiet. It was about an hour before midnight and he had hoped to get some extra sleep before leaving the planet tomorrow. But all he could hear was their rapid-fire discussion. The sound of their voices traveled through the walls from their room to his and no matter how many times he changed positions or if he placed his pillows over his ears, he could still hear them.
“How are we going to afford this treatment, Owen?” His aunt softly sobbed, her voice muffled through the walls of the homestead.
“Leave that for me to worry about,” His uncle said quietly. “We will make it work- I’ll stay on the farm if I have to.”
“Oh, honey…”
Luke was curled in his bed with a lump in his throat. He knew, logically, this wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t help the fact that he got sick, or that the hospital couldn’t treat him. But still, despite knowing this, he felt guilt tug at him. They were doing this all because of him and his stupid sickness.
He turned over in his bed and coughed loudly, his chest sore from the effort. He was still in disbelief he was leaving home tomorrow morning.
Despite his dream to leave and travel the Galaxy, he suddenly found the idea of leaving Tatooine terrifying now that it was actually happening.
He hoped he would come back soon.
He stormed through the halls of the Imperial City Hospital, his cape billowing out from behind. His hands were clenched into fists as his chest squeezed tightly. Something strange tugged at him, a feeling so familiar yet so foreign all at the same time.
Whatever it was, he knew better than to admit to it.
Nurse droids, patients, and families all cleared a path as Vader followed wherever the force directed him. He counted the door numbers, he was getting close, the force told him so.
He stopped suddenly before room 504, the force swirled aggressively as a bright presence pierced through the darkness. Vader flexed his hand, the door slid open.
“Luke…”
Vader blinked and stared at the white glossy interior of his hyperbaric chamber. He took in a slow, drawn out breath and closed his eyes. He must have dozed off while in meditation. He checked his chrono, he had been out for only 30 minutes .
He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, a headache slowly forming as his dream slowly came back to him. Vader knew his dreams were anything but meaningless, so he was left to put the pieces together and tried to understand its message.
He was in a hospital and he felt worried . He would have denied it if it wasn’t so painly obvious. Vader remembered almost feeling scared .
The room 504, what was its significance?
Who was Luke?