Sneezefic by Hermione > Another Thing Needful

Another Thing Needful
a Star Wars story
by Hermione Eveningfall

Part I

The morning after he returned from the Mos Eisley Spaceport, Luke Skywalker awoke with one of the worst head colds he'd ever had in his life. He lay as still as he could in bed, head throbbing from sinus pressure.

An epidemic of influenza had been going through Mos Eisley for the past week or so he discovered, and he'd hoped to escape the place unscathed. However, he was so susceptible to the tiniest cold, that he should have known better. And as the fall season was beginning, his vulnerability increased, despite the fact that Tatooine was a desert planet. They rarely had any rain, and the days were hot as an oven, but nights were in deed freezing, and it grew darker earlier now.

Luke heard his Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen moving about, and knew that they would pop in to fetch him at any moment. Luk reached under his pillow, where he'd stashed a couple of handkerchiefs, and tried his best to muffle his sneezes with them. "Heh-UMMMPH! HehCHSHHH!" He groaned, coughing and cringing at his raw throat. He went to bed the previous night feeling off, merely taking down a cup of chamomile tea with a few drops of honey beforehand.

Almost as if on cue, there were a few gentle knocks on the door. "Luke, dear? Are you awake?"

Luke struggled to sit up, clasping a hand to his forehead. "Yes Aunt Beru," he croaked. "I'll be there in a couple of minutes." He forced himelf out of bed, doubling over with another sneezing fit. "HehCHHHH! EhSHHHSH! HuhCHSHHHH! HahCHUUUH!" his nose ran horribly, and his ears were itching. He blew his nose again, stumbling over to the wardrobe. If his Aunt discovered how ill he felt, she would insist he spend the day in bed.

Uncle Owen, though, would tell her not to "coddle" him, and would insist he take it like a man. He always said this, right down to the times when he was merely a child, running to his Aunt with bumps or cuts he wanted her help with in mending. Of course as he grew older, his Aunt's fussing over this or that tended to irritate him, and he found himself putting on a stoic face as much as possible. Though given the number of times he'd been sick, she certainly had a right to worry.

Once he finished dressing, he checked his hair in the mirror, licking his fingers and trying to smooth down the usual morning ruffles. He coughed again, muttering under his breath before stuffing a couple of emergency hankies into his pocket. At last, he made his way out of the room, heading down the darkened hallway towards the kitchen.

"Good morning, dear." Aunt Beru greeted cheerfully from her spot at the stove. Luke could barely smell a thing...normally she made eggs, sausage or bacon, and fresh toast. Sure enough...*POP*! Two pieces shot out of the toaster, and Luke snatched each of them before they had a chance to hit the sandy floor.

"Oh! Thank you...I'd nearly forgotten!" she chuckled as he put the toast on one of the plates. "Such an old biddie I am!" she planted a kiss on Luke's cheek. "Go and sit down...your Uncle will be here shortly."

"No need to wait," Uncle Owen announced, walking through the door, and gave Luke's hair an affectionate ruffle. "Ready for another day, lad?"

`Not really,' Luke thought, trying to ignore the new tickle in his nose. He sniffled softly, accepting a glass of cold milk. Already, he could see the heat sizzling outside through the carved windows. "I suppose so," was all he could say in response. The milk soothed his throat a little, and he drank nearly all of it in one gulp. He set the glass down, and luckily it was at that moment the new series of sneezes decided to strike rather than when he'd been still holding it.

"HuhESHHHH! EhCHSHHHH!" he managed to cover his mouth with a napkin, his cheeks flushing with pure embarrassment. "Sorry," he squeaked, but neither his Aunt or Uncle seemed annoyed with him.

"Goodness...bless you!" Aunt Beru instantly abandoned her post at the stove, feeling his forehead and cheeks. "Are you coming down with something?"

Luke glanced at Uncle Owen, who gave him a curious look. "Doe..." he sniffled. "No, I'm fine." He coughed. "I just have a sniffle."

Aunt Beru felt behind his ears, her frown deepening. "Your glands are swelling a little."

Luke tried to give her one of his most sincere smiles. "Auntie, I'm fine, really."

She wet her lips, before bringing the rest of the breakfast to the table, and sitting down herself. "If you start to feel the least bit worse, come straight to bed," she ordered softly, and reached over to give Luke's hand a squeeze. He smiled faintly at her, helping himself to a piece of toast. His stomach churned at the sight of the food, but he knew he had to eat something to keep him going. Besides, if he didn't eat, they would really become suspicious. Usually he cleaned his plate every day.

"I really need your help today with the season frost coming in," Owen told Luke as they began eating. "The moisture barrels are nearly full, and I wanted to deposit those as well as making sure we get the last of the crops into the greenhouse. We shouldn't let anything go to waste. Even though the temperature doesn't change here, the atmosphere does slightly, and even the smallest disturbance can cause..."

Luke nodded. "I know."

Owen grunted, tapping his fork absentmindedly against the edge of his plate. "So, I eh...I didn't get to ask you much about your trip to Mos Eisley yesterday, since you went right to bed before I got a chance. All went well, I take it?"

Luke nodded, pouring himself another glass of milk. "It went fine."

"You got everything on the list?"

"Yes. Though they were currently out of power converters... they won't have any new ones in until next week."

Owen nodded. "They do a good business over there, I must say. I appreciate your going, Luke. We'll be able to test that new droid out today."

"It needs a few tweaks," Luke added. "But nothing serious... just a few new screws and bolts here and there, and a few new...new... AhSHUUUH!" he turned his head away, sneezing loudly.

"Bless you." Both adults told him in unison, and Aunt Beru clucked her tongue.

"Perhaps I should make you a cup of tea before you go out?"

Luke turned back to to the table, sniffling and rubbing his nose with the corner of his sleeve. "You don't have to," he insisted.

"We don't have time, dear," Uncle Owen broke in, finishing the last of his breakfast and setting down his napkin on the table. "Come on, Luke lad, let's get started while we still have an ample amount of daylight left."

"Owen, it's only eight o'clock in the morning! It's not dark until at least six!" Beru told him exhasperatedly, shaking her wooden spoon at him teasingly. He merely smiled at her, clasping a hand on Luke's back, causing the boy to stumble forward a little as he stood up from his chair.

"Better early than not at all, mmmm? Go on now." He nodded, and Luke gave his Aunt an apologetic look, before dashing out of the hut and in the direction of the shed. When he was out of earshot, Beru walked up to her husband, her dark eyes narrowed.

"Owen, please keep a close eye on the boy, will you?"

Owen nodded. "Of course I will. I'll send him in if it's necessary." He pecked a kiss on her cheek, before following in his nephew's wake.

Part II

Luke immediately set to work on the new sowing droid when he entered the musty shed. He had to replace several of the rusty screws, along with the main movement wheel on the middle leg. As he moved around the small space, the rising dust and sand irritated his nose more than usual,and he found himself sniffling frequently.

"HuhCHUUUU! OW!" Luke sneezed so hard, that the force caused his forehead to connect with the top of the robot once he knelt back down before it. Spots formed in front of his eyes for a second, and he massaged the slowly forming bruise with a sigh.

His chest felt as though it were tearing to shreds after he broke into coughing, and it took a few tries before he could take a good breath. He rested his head in his arms, wishing he could fall asleep right there, but there was too much to do.

"How is it coming?" Uncle Owen asked, just as Luke straightened up.

"Ib..." he croaked. "I'b all ride." He sniffled, struggling to stand up. "I just hab to add anoder red wire in thad udit there and he'll be good as dew."

Uncle Owen watched suspiciously as Luke shuffled over to the tool chest, noticing how the boy dragged his feet.

Luke stumbled, clutching at the edge of the table, and coughed again. "Are you sure you're all right, Luke?"

He nodded, rummaging around until he found the wire he needed. "Okay...I god id." He turned back towards his Uncle, and swayed...he felt waves of dizziness rush through his head. Owen caught him just before he hit the floor, and Luke steadied himself against his Uncle's broad shoulders.

"Maybe I should send you back in," Uncle Owen suggested, noticing the large bruise forming on his nephew's forehead. "Where did you get that?"

Luke blinked. "Id's dothing," he insisted. "Ad Ib fide to keeb workig. You cant do all this by yourself. "Though Ib godda... HuhESHHHH! EhSHUUUH!"

"Inside with you," Owen ordered. "I'll get done what I can with the new droid. Your Aunt will have my head if I let you work in this state."

"Bud I dod hab a fever," Luke argued, pressing the back of his hand against his cheek. He usually could tell when he was getting warm.

"That is not the point, Luke. I want to prevent you from getting worse. I'm sure a good day's sleep will help."

Luke started to protest, but Owen held up his hand. "I won't take no for an answer, my boy. Inside and get some rest, all right?"

Finally, Luke agreed, handing the wire to his Uncle. He started to walk forward a few steps, but stumbled again, and Owen caught his arm. "But perhaps I should give you a hand, eh?" He supported Luke by putting the boy's arm around his shoulders, and the two of them made their way back to the hut.

Aunt Beru was not surprised at all at their quick return, and nodded to her husband with approval as they both led Luke to his bedroom. "Perhaps I ought to consult the medical manual and see what needs to be done," Owen suggested once Luke was out of earshot and his door closed. They could both hear harsh coughing from behind it, and Beru wet her lips anxiously. "He never seems to get through a fleet season without some illness does he?"

She shook her head. "The poor darling." She folded her arms. "I'm going to go and make him a pot of tea."

"All right, I'll get the book, and meet you in the kitchen. The last thing we need is for this cold of his to turn into pneumonia."

Both adults parted ways, and Luke backed away from the door after he heard them finish talking. He groaned as he removed his clothing, tossing it into the laundry bin and fetching his sleep clothes. After he put them on, he pulled down the bedcovers and slididing underneath and trying to keep as warm as possible. Last fleet season he'd gotten so sick with bronchitis, that no matter what his Aunt or Uncle tried to do to help him feel better, nothing seemed to help. They were both forced to send for a more advanced healing droid, who'd hooked him to an oxygen machine to help him breathe. Eventually the infection cleared, but as a result he spent an extra week in bed recovering. Thankfully a couple of his good friends still resided on Tatooine, and were able to come and amuse him for a couple of hours at a time.

"Dab flu," he mumbled darkly, hacking into one fist. "Ugh." He pulled the comforter closer to his neck, trying to block out the pain in his head as best he could. He felt so cold, and wondered if it was the fact that the sun made him so warm that he could not tell the difference between that and a fever.

"Luke?" Aunt Beru called, holding a mug of fresh chamomile tea in her hand. "Sweetheart, may I come in?"

"Yes Ad Beru," Luke called hoarsely, struggling to sit up against his pillows.

She opened the door carefully, and slid inside. "How are you feeling, love?" she asked, making her way over to the bed.

"Awful." Luke sniffled. "I cad barely breathe."

She felt his forehead with her free hand, and frowned. "You are starting to run a bit of a temperature now. Here..." she held the cup of tea for him to take, and watched as he did so. "This should help clear your nose a little."

"Ad Beru, Ib sorry I didn't say anythig lasd dite," Luke told her after he blew on the tea and took a small sip. "But the flu was goig aroud Bos Eisley. I thig I'b catchig it."

Aunt Beru's eyes widened. "Luke! Why didn't you tell us when you came back yesterday?" she cried in alarm. "You know how ill you get!"

He hung his head. "I didn't wad to worry you, ad I was so tired." He coughed. "I really ab sorry."

She smoothed his hair away from his eyes. "I worry so much about you since last year. If I ever lost you, I wouldn't be able to bear it."

Luke took another sip of tea. "I d...I d...HahCHUUUU!" He managed to keep the mug of tea steady in his hand, though a bit of the liquid sloshed over the edge and onto his blanket.

"Bless you, dear." Aunt Beru kissed the top of his head again. "I'm going to go and see if your Uncle needs help finding the medical manual." She stood up and headed off, just as Luke's face scrunched up. He quickly set the mug on the windowsill by his bed, and allowed himself to sneeze freely.

"HuhASHHH! HuhESHHHH!" He gasped as a shooting pain tore through his chest again. Tears sprung to his eyes as he began coughing, and darkness clouded his vision afterwards. He grasped the cup of tea, taking a few mouthfuls to try to clear his throat, but he almost gagged on it. "Ow," he sobbed once he calmed down, grateful that he hadn't brought anything up. He lay back against the pillows, closing his eyes just as his Aunt and Uncle re-entered.

"Your Aunt just informed me of the situation, Luke," Owen told him seriously. "You should not feel as though you need to keep this sort of thing from us. It's our duty to take care of you."

Luke glanced at him. "I really dod feel well," he whispered. "I started coughing and could barely breathe. I keeb sdneezig too. "

"It's all of that congestion I'm sure," Uncle Owen replied, thumbing through the manual's thin pages. Aunt Beru pulled a seat up beside the bed, taking Luke's hand in hers.

"Oh you're freezing," she told him, rubbing it vigorously. Luke gave his Aunt a weak smile.

"I love you," he whispered, and she pressed his hand against her cheek.

"I love you too, Luke. More than you'll ever know, sweetheart."

Owen glanced at the two of them, making a sort of "Mrrrph" noise, and then found the page that he was looking for. "Influenza..." he pulled another chair beside Beru, just as Luke rested his head against the pillow with a small sigh. He hated to be such a problem... his Uncle was wasting valuable time that could be used on their daily work by sitting with him, as well as his Aunt. "Luke, you've told us you were having a bit of difficulty breathing...where else does it hurt?"

Luke thought for a moment. "By head, my throat...pretty buch everything," he replied.

"Well, your Aunt just gave you a cup of tea...I'll get that cough syrup for you..."

"Uncle Owed, doe..." Luke lifted his head. "You have to work..."

Owen raised his eyes. "That can wait."

Beru smiled at him as he went to fetch the medicine, and when he was gone, she turned back to Luke. "He does care...don't let that gruff exterior fool you dear," she chuckled at Luke's expression of surprise. "Just lie back and rest." She smoothed his forehead.

"I'b just so tired of being sig," he told her after a few moments of silence.

"I know." She pulled the blankets up to his neck again to try to ease the shivering, and he attempted to wrap his feet in the sheets. Owen returned with the dark bottle and a spoon, handing it to Beru.

"I'm going back out," he told her, and Beru nodded. After he left again, she poured a spoonful of the green liquid, easing Luke into a sitting position so she could give it to him. He cringed after forcing the strong stuff down...it had a harsh flavor of mint and eucalyptus.

"I'll let you alone so you can just sleep now," she told him. "Please let me know if you need anything."

He snuggled back beneath the quilts, sniffling and closing his eyes. She watched as his body eventually relaxed, though he still trembled lightly, before making her way back into the kitchen.

Part III

Luke spent a good portion of the day coughing and sneezing, distracting his Aunt from her usual chores. She eventually gave up trying to multi-task, and set aside anything that did not need to be taken care of immediately in order to sit beside the boy's bed.

Owen periodically paused in his work to check on Luke, shaking his head sadly after each visit. "He's getting worse," Beru told her husband as they sat eating dinner later that evening. The hut was so quiet without their nephew's usual babbling, making both adults feel rather uneasy. "We may have to put him on the ventilator to help him breathe tonight."

Owen rubbed his chin thoughtfully, stirring his freeze dried soup aimlessly. "Might be an even better idea to have one of us spend the night in there," he suggested. "Possibly switching every couple of hours. That way he won't have to shout too loudly if he needs one of us."

Beru sipped from her mug of tea, her eyebrows knitting. "I do hate to treat the boy like a child, but I do agree that he needs extra care in times like this."

Luke broke into another fit of coughing, and Beru immediately abandoned her meal to rush for the sick room. He was still sleeping when she entered, but the blankets had fallen off and were in a pile on the floor. She wet her lips, walking over to feel his forehead. Luke moaned, trying to jerk away from the sudden touch, but relaxed when she smoothed his hair. "Shhhhh," she whispered, picking up the blankets and covering him again with them.

"I'b so cold," he croaked.

"Your fever is too high for another blanket, sweet, I'm sorry," Beru apologized, taking the bowl of water and the rag from the night stand. Luke's hand lay draped across his chest, which heaved up and down with uneven breathing. This was absolutely terrible, to feel so hot and cold all at once, not to be able to draw a proper amount of fresh air. His head spun from the high fever, and that made his stomach roll over almost repeatedly. He did not want to move, for the fear that he would throw up. `They weren't kidding when they said the flu was going around,' he thought, sniffling.

"HuhESHHH!" he sneezed, his eyes snapping shut at the throbbing pain against his temples. "Everythig hurds," he told his Aunt, shivering as she draped a fresh compress across his forehead.

"I know, love." She looked down at her lap. "One of us is going to be staying with you over night." She added, causing Luke to turn slowly towards her, his blue eyes widening with surprise.

"Doe, you dod have to do thad," he protested. "Please, dod. I'll be fi..eh...eh...HESHHHUH! HuhESHHHH! Ow!" pain sliced through his chest, which only sent him into another fit of coughing. "I'm going to die," he sobbed when he finished. Beru glared at him.

"Don't talk like that, do you hear me?" she ordered. "You're going to be just fine. Just try to sleep."

Luke sighed heavily, darkness clouding the edges of his vision. He wanted to go back to sleep, but strange dreams inhabited his mind when he did so. They were not necessarily nightmares, but he felt a strong sense of forboding with each one. Almost as though someone wanted to come and take him away.

He fought to stay awake, but his Aunt's gentle voice singing softly a familiar lullabye made the fight more difficult. "Voilà le bon vent, voilà le joli vent ! Voilà le bon vent, ma mie m'appelle. Voilà le bon vent, voilà le joli vent ! Voilà l'bon vent, ma mie me attend."

Beru kissed him softly, just as Owen came in with the ventilation droid. It was a small box-like creature with a long, clear tube floating about from the top. A small computer-like screen was built into it's front, measuring the amount of oxygen that would go into Luke's system, and if anything out of the ordinary occurred, it would send off a shrill whistling noise.

"Owen, I just got him to fall back to sleep...I think we may have to wait on the ventilator until he wakes up again," Beru whispered. "I'd hate to wake him."

"Well, I'll keep this in here in case he starts to have trouble later on. I suppose you're going to take the first watch?"

Luke coughed, moving about restlessly, then let out a small noise once he settled back down. "I will." She nodded in agreement. "I will come to fetch you in three hours? I believe that is fair enough."

Owen glanced at the sleeping boy, and then went to kiss his wife good night for the time being.

**It was so dark...the dark of hopelessness...the dark of despair. Luke stood on hard ground, trying to make sense of his surroundings, but without much luck. He turned about, hearing a barely audible echoing whisper. "Luke..." it beckoned, a great wave of ice cold washing over him. He broke into a sweat, his breathing quickening. He could feel a presence, but he could not see anyone. "Luke...join me...join me..."

A flash of red eyes in the distance, and a force so powerful caused the ground beneath him to tremble. He fell over, landing on his side. "Who's there?" he called, or attempted to call, but no sound came out when he opened his mouth. A heavy, raspy breathing filled the air, causing him to shake with fear.

"Join me..."

"No," Luke whimpered, struggling to push his body upright. He fell on his stomach, panting. Though with each breath he took, he drew in a horrible, burning chill that twisted his insides to the point where he wanted to scream in agony. He felt hands upon his shoulders, trying to pull him away, but he would not let them. He felt tears springing to his eyes as he tried desparately to breathe in a gulp of fresh air, but only managed to cough harshly.

"No, no! I won't join you, I won't join you, no!" He yelled hoarsely. "No! No, let me go, let me go!"**

Aunt Beru had woken to the sound of Luke's cries, finding him turning this way and that in bed. She'd attempted to calm him by placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, but he'd merely yelled, lashing out at her wildly. She took hold of his arms, calling his name, her heart racing in her chest.

Moments later, Owen joined her, having heard Luke's screaming from their bedroom. "Owen, help me!" Beru hissed, and at last the terrified boy's eyes snapped open, and he wound up retching all over the floor. He sobbed when he finished, collapsing against his Aunt for support. Tears streamed down his fever-flushed cheeks, and he felt horribly dizzy.

"I'll clean that up while you comfort him," Owen told his wife, shaking his head sorrowfully as he went to fetch a mop and a pail of water. Beru climbed onto Luke's bed and held him close, just as she used to do when he was a small child. He was so sick that he did not even protest, still shaking from the pure terror of the dream.

"Love, it's all right. You're safe now." She soothed, running her weathered fingers through his sandy hair. "You're safe at home. It's all right, sweet."

Luke closed his sore eyes, sniffling and rubbing his nose with the corner of his nightshirt. "HuhESHHHH! HahESHHHH!" he groaned, clutching at his chest and coughing hard again. Owen returned to the room with the cleaning supplies, pleased to see that Luke was no longer fighting his Aunt.

"Are you all right, boy?" he asked gruffly, and Luke shook his head.

"He's so warm...maybe we should try to put him in a bath again?" Beru suggested, pressing the back of her hand against his cheek. "I'll draw it if you sit with him until I come back," she added, when Owen started to respond as he began to clean the mess from the floor. "Luke likes his bath a certain way."

Owen nodded. "Probably best."

Beru kissed Luke's forehead, easing him under the covers. "I'll be back soon, precious." She promised, and he nodded, wetting his chapped lips with the tip of his tongue. It was so cold still, no matter how deeply he bundled into his blankets. His Aunt had closed the window, so the night breeze wouldn't chill him, but that did not help much.

"I should have been the one to go to Mos Eisley," Owen muttered, once he finished cleaning, and put the mop back into the bucket. "Should've known what could happen given the season. I'm sorry, Luke."

Luke peeped out from the blankets, frowning at his Uncle. "You were busy," he croaked.

"No excuse." Owen folded his arms. "Your Aunt's fixing you a bath... we're going to try to bring that temperature down."

Luke shivered at the thought of having to leave his bed. "I'm too cold," he whispered, and Owen looked at the doorway for a moment.

"I know. But this will help."

Beru returned about five minutes later, putting on a smile. She'd used the time alone in the bathroom for a good cry, and if Luke or Owen had looked a bit more closely, they would have noticed the slight redness to her eyes. "It's ready," she announced, and Owen frowned.

"I'll carry him, Beru."

"I have fresh towels set out," she told him, as he went to collect the sick boy from the bed. Luke clung to his Uncle helplessly, resting his head against Owen's broad shoulder. "Owen, do you mind if I take a bit of fresh air? I shan't be more than couple of minutes."

Owen nodded in understanding, shifting the boy more comfortably in his arms. "We'll be all right for now, Beru." He sensed his wife had been crying, judging by the slight strain in her voice. Beru kissed Luke again, squeezing his hand before heading off. Owen carried Luke towards the washroom, where the tub sat ready to be used.

"Here, I'll give you a hand with that." Owen allowed Luke to lean against him once on the ground, and helped the boy unbutton the shirt. Once his drawers were off (all modesty was gone at this point), Owen lifted the boy into the water. Luke gasped...it was warm, not hot, but the shock of the cool air against his burning skin and the sudden feel of the water pelted him like a thousand knives. He eventually relaxed as much as he could, leaning against the edge of the tub. "How does that feel?" Owen asked after a bit of silence, and Luke sighed softly.

"Okay," he replied, sniffling.

"Good." Owen pulled a seat up beside the tub, taking a wash rag and bathing Luke's shoulders with it. Beru came back as she promised, smiling at the sight of her husband making the sick boy chuckle with small jokes and stories.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, causing both to look at her.

"Fine." Owen nodded.

"Five minutes more," Beru added. "Or you'll catch another chill on top of this from being in the bath too long." She knelt beside Owen, feeling the boy's hand. "A bit cooler," she announced.

"HuhESHHH! HehSHHHEH! Ow!" Luke cringed.

"Bless you," both adults told him in unison, and he nodded his thanks.

"Out you come then," Beru ordered. "And right back into bed."

Luke sniffled...just when he started to get comfortable, they always had to move him. "Feels nice though," he croaked, and Owen chuckled, ruffling his hair.

"You'll shrivel up like a prune otherwise."

Luke started to laugh, only broke into yet another fit of coughing in the midst of it. Beru shook her finger at them, as she gathered the towels, waiting for Owen to help Luke stand. Once he was wrapped in the towels, both adults aided him back into the dim bedroom. "Would you like the ventilation droid on?" Owen asked, once Luke was back into fresh pajamas and under the covers. "It might help that breathing."

Luke frowned...he hated sleeping with that mask over his mouth and nose, but he couldn't help but agreeing with his Uncle. "I guess," he whispered, and Owen brought it over. Luke swallowed past his raw throat, watching as his Uncle turned the droid on, listening to the faint hiss of the oxygen protruding from the tube.

Beru eased Luke into a sitting position so the mask could be strapped around his head and adjusted till it felt as bearable as possible. The droid bleeped, causing Luke to smile weakly at it, and Beru glanced at Owen. "Shall I let you sit with him for now?" she asked, her fingers laced through the boy's.

"Good enough."

"Good night, love." Beru kissed Luke again, then gave one to her husband. "Wake me if you need anything, all right?"

"Good night, Beru." Owen chuckled, and took his place on the cot.

Part IV

"HuhESHHH! HuhSHHHESH! EhSHHHHH! HehESHHHH!" Luke sniffed, rubbing his nose with the handkerchief Aunt Beru had given him. It was morning at last...he'd spent a difficult night, unable to fall asleep without being tormented by nightmares. The oxygen droid had helped his breathing somewhat, but he was quite glad to be rid of it for the time being.

Today, thankfully, he felt a little better, and sat up in bed reading...or at least, attempting to read until his eyes grew too tired. Beru came into the room, carrying a tray, consisting of dried toast, tea, and a bowl of bland broth. Luke coughed, glad he could not smell at the moment...the thought of food made the nausea come back.

Still, his throat yearned for something warm and soothing, so he figured the tea wouldn't be half bad. "Good morning, sweet." Beru greeted, pulling a chair beside the bed. She immediately checked his temperature, resting the back of her hand against his forehead. "Your fever has gone down a little since last night." She smiled.

Luke blew his nose, finding it to be even more clogged afterwards. "I'b dot hungry, Aunt Beru," he told her, and she shook her head.

"You have to take a bit of broth down for me. Goodness knows you're skin and bone as it is!" she took his arm and demonstrated just how thin it was. Luke started to say something else, but buried his face in the handkerchief again.

"HuhESHHH!"

"Bless you, love." Beru sighed, stirring the broth a bit. Luke finished blowing his nose before lowering the cloth, and rested against the stone wall. "Just a few sips for me?"

Luke gave in, allowing her to take charge. She fed him a spoonful, not trusting his grip at the moment. "Baybe I cad be boved to the parlor today?" Luke asked, getting awfully bored of the bedroom, even though he'd only been here two days, if that.

"Not today, Luke. You still have a fever. Maybe when it breaks we'll move you in there, but I don't want to risk it."

Luke curled back up into his blankets, his teeth chattering. Beru stroked his side, setting the tray back down. "Would you like an extra blanket, sweet?" she pulled the current one closer to his neck. He nodded, sniffling. He did feel horribly weak still, and longed to hop into his pod for a race around the desert. Beru bent down to kiss his warm cheek, before moving to fetch another quilt.

As soon as she left, he sneezed into his sleeve, groaning miserably. "HuhESHHHH!" his head pounded, causing him to close his eyes. "Ugh..." he reached under the pillow for another handkerchief, merely dabbing at his nose. It was so sore, that he cringed.

"Here we are, love." Beru announced, reteruning with another blanket shortly after. "Your temperature is down enough that I'll allow you to have this for now." She tucked it around his thin body.

"I wish this would go away," Luke croaked, coughing, and his Aunt smiled.

"It will. You're only into the second day." She looked over her shoulder. "Your Uncle is making you something in the shed today, I think."

Luke perked up. "Really?" he asked. It had been years since Owen had made anything for him.

"Mmm hmm."

"Why would he do that, I wonder?" Luke murmered out loud, and Beru chuckled.

"As gruff as your Uncle is, Luke, he does care. And I think he feels guilty still for sending you off the other day."

Luke groaned inwardly. "I told him not to be like that! Who else would have gone anyway?"

Beru started to respond, and Luke raised an eyebrow. "It would have been too dangerous for you, Auntie." He sighed, gazing up at the ceiling. "Did he give you a hint as to what it is he's making?" curiousity was getting the better of him again. That was one of his faults, he knew, and had to smile to himself when he remembered his relatives chasing him halfway across Tatooine when he was much younger. Once, she'd found him building a "city" inside of a large sand crater. Oh how she'd scooped him into her arms, showered him with kisses, and called him "My little naughty one!" That wasn't the only incident, of course, but there were too many to remember.

"What are you smirking about, love?" Beru asked, glad to see him cheerful, but wondering what caused the sudden change. Luke laughed.

"Just remembering when you found me building sand cities in that hole when I was little."

Beru laughed as well, and squeezed his hand. "You were a mischevious child, no doubt. Got into everything and anything that was of your reach...and even sometimes tried to get into things much too tall for you! Actually, I remember your first word, which proved to me that you'd be wonderful with fixing things."

"What was it?" Luke asked, struggling to sit up so he could look at his Aunt more closely.

"Bot."

Luke snorted, shaking his head. "I started talking about droids that young."

"Well, naturally. That's all your Uncle spoke of as he was holding you, and naturally that would be your first word, wouldn't it?" she brushed her fingertips against his cheek. "Now try to get some sleep."

Luke settled back down against his pillows, watching as his Aunt picked the tray up again and carried it out of the room. When she was gone, he closed his eyes again to block out the light streaming through the windows. He could only hear the sound of the electricity generator rumbling, though that seemed even louder than usual. He cringed, plling his blankets over his head.

Coughs shook him, and he came back out to take the glass of tea from the nighttable, chugging half of it down in three gulps. He sighed with relief when he finished, and set the mug aside again. He missed his friends now more than ever as he lay in bed yet again, and it annoyed him that they were able to go off to the flight academy and he was still stuck here on this miserable rock.

**"I wish I could collect all the Facts we hear so much about," said Tom spitefully setting his teeth, "and all the Figures, and all the people who found them out: and I wish I could put a thousand barrels of gunpowder under htem, and blow them all up together! However, when I go to live with old Bounderby, I'll have my revenge."**

Luke reached for the book that lay on the floor, thinking of the passage he'd left off with. No doubt the main character felt as miserable and as trapped as he did, and he flipped through the worn pages to find the spot. Though he did not necessarily want revenge on his Uncle for keeping him here, but he felt like a bird in a cage, and wanted desparately to be set free.

**"Your revenge, Tom?" "I mean, I'll enjoy myself a little, and go about and see something. I'll recompense myself for the way in which I have been brought up."**

Luke barely read more than two paragraphs before he felt the familiar ache in his eyes, and had to shut the book yet again. He hated falling asleep these days...nothing but troublesome dreams, but the drowsiness was too overpowering.

**"Now, what I want is, Facts. Teach these boys and girls nothing but facts. Facts alone are wanted in life. Plant nothing else, and root out everything else."**

He yawned, Owen's voice ringing in his ears...he'd read the book to him so frequently as a boy. "Facts," Luke murmered as he drifted off slowly, sinking into darkness. Nothing but facts.

Part V

**The sickening cold had returned. Luke found himself in a dimly lit room this time, the walls constructed of metal and steel. He lay on the floor, his hot cheek touching a thin, ragged blanket. He felt so ill--so tired--couldn't bear to move.* A cough sprung from his dry lips, and he soon felt hard, gloved-covered hands wrap around his middle.

"No Father..." he gasped, though he found himself unable to resist. He allowed himself to be lifted up, and when he turned his head, he was staring into his mother's kind, loving face. She held him in her arms, humming Beru's famous lullabye. Her hair, long, brown and curly, brushed against his forehead and gave off the faint smell of lilacs.

He, though he never saw his mother before, knew it was her. He somehow recognized that face, that sweet voice, that scent. Something about it triggered a memory lodged deep inside of his mind, and he felt a sense of calmness he never remembered feeling before. Though still, why was he so deathly cold? Shouldn't a mother's arms be a place of comforting warmth? He shivered, feeling sick, and had to close his eyes in a vain attempt to block the dizziness.

He opened them again to find he was not staring at his mother anymore, but at someone...something else. The face was no longer sweet and kind...it was as hideous as could be. Luke gasped in terror, trying to wrench himself loose from the creature's grasp. Well, it was more human-like than a monster, but the face was a grayish-green and wrinkled like putty. "Let me go!" Luke tried to yell, but again, his voice would not penetrate the cold...he found it more difficult to breathe with each attempt.

"Join me," the creature hissed, and Luke struggled, trying to force the hands off of him.

"No," he choked. "No, no..."** Beru nearly dropped the bowl sh held when she heard Luke's cries from the bedroom. Lukily he awoke before she got to him, and sat up in bed, clutching his blankets to his chest and panting.

"Are you all right, love?" she asked, noticing the sweat pouring down is cheeks.

"Don't...don't feel so good," Luke choked, and Beru managed to grab the wash basin in the corner in time. She sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his back while he vomited repeatedly, gulping for air. He clung to her, sobbing against her. She held him close, setting the basin on the floor, and reaching over to take his old glass of water from the windowsill.

"It's all right, sweetheart. Here, take a sip and wash your mouth out." She encouraged, brushing his bangs away from his eyes. Luke gratefully took the glass into his hands, gulping the rest of the liquid from the glass. He wiped his lips with the corner of his sleeve, accepting a handkerchief so he could blow his nose. She clucked her tongue, feeling his neck and cheeks. "Your fever has gone up again." She removed one of the quilts, easing him back down to his pillows once he had calmed down. "Let me give you a bit of ginger syrup to calm your stomach," she added, once she tucked him in.

He still felt so nauseous, even after all of the retching, though he knew it would only be dry heaving at this point. He'd only eaten a tiny bit of soup earlier that day, and of course drank the two cups of tea. As Luke waited for his Aunt to return, he thought about the previous dream, and found it absolutely fascinating that he was able to recognize his mother so vividly. After all, he had been given to his Aunt and Uncle when he was merely an infant, and had never seen his mother since.

"Here we are now." Beru carried a dark bottle, and joined Luke on the bed again, easing him into a sitting position. She poured a bit of the liquid into a spoon, and he opened his mouth to take it. He cringed as it slid down his throat, and had to fight not to throw up again once he finished swallowing. "That's my love." She capped the bottle, before situating him under the covers again. "It should help your stomach." She picked up the basin, and sighed softly. "I'm going to go and empty this...would you like anything else while I'm gone for a few minutes?"

"HuhESHHH! HahISHHHHH! Unnn...a new body?" He croaked. Beru chuckled lightly.

"I know being stuck in bed isn't fun."

"But I'm *always* stuck in bed," Luke grumbled, crumpling the sheets in irritation. "I'm *always* sick!"

Beru frowned...she couldn't really argue with the boy on that aspect. "Just try to rest," she told him, before leaving the room. Owen came into the house just as she entered the kitchen, and raised an eyebrow when he saw her walking towards him with the basin. "He got sick again," she explained, and her husband stepped aside.

"Is it safe to give him this?" he held up a minature model of a space ship, and Beru smiled.

"He's a bit cranky, but I think he'll cheer up when you give him that. It looks wonderful."

Owen nodded, and watched his wife disappear through the door. "Dinner will be ready soon," Beru called, her voice echoing through the walls.

Owen took a deep breath and walked into Luke's room, finding the boy to be staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression on his face. "Heard you got sick, eh?"

Luke turned, squinting into the dim light. "Hullo," he murmered. "Yeah, I did." He struggled to lean up against the wall, but Owen motioned with his free hand to stop him.

"Well, I thought I'd give you a little present to try to cheer you up if I could."

Luke's face brightened almost instantly as his Uncle produced the model ship. "Wow," Luke croaked, coughing as he took the toy into his hands. "Thanks! You didn't have to do that."

Owen merely shrugged, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You haven't had a treat in a while...thought it was a good time for one."

Luke pretended to make the model fly, landing it on his lap. "Thank you," he repeated, and Owen nodded, sitting down in the chair Beru placed by the bed. For a few moments the two sat in awkward silence...Owen and Luke rarely had much to talk about, unless it had to do with work-related topics. Usually Beru and Luke discussed other more personal and private matters, ones Owen preferred to keep out of.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Beru asked, when she returned with a cup of fresh water, and Luke shook his head. He stared down at the model ship, fingering the fragile wings and wetting his lips absentmindedly. "Well, Owen, dinner is on the table...Luke, I made some broth for you, but I could save it for later if you'd like." She came over to kiss the top of his head, and he smiled at her.

"I'm not really hungry," he whispered, and she nodded in understanding.

"All right. We'll be in the kitchen if you need us," she added, and motioned for Owen to follow her out of the room. Luke watched them leave, before sighing and turning his attention back to the ship on his lap. He thought back to the sight of his mother in the nightmare, and wondered every now and again what it would have been like to grow up with a real family. He'd never known his father, and Anakin Skywalker's name was forbidden under the Lars' roof. They never spoke much about his mother either, though their attitude towards Padme Skywalker was in deed different...yes, he knew her name, and he then remembered a picture Beru had shown him of her one night. That was probably what triggered her image in the dream, and he felt a single tear roll down his cheek when he remembered it. He wiped it away, setting the ship on the sill so he could look at it when he lay down, and then buried against the pillows.

As soon as his head touched the pillow, the tears started again, and he lay with his eyes closed, trying to burry his face beneath the quilt. The last thing he wanted was for his Aunt and Uncle to see him crying over his long dead parents...he rarely cried for them, but found when he was really ill that he wanted them more than anything.

*Crying won't bring them back,* a voice spoke inside of his head as his tears wet the pillowcase.

When his Uncle eventually shut down the power in the hut that night, he listened as they talked in hushed voices outside of his room. Beru peeked in, and found Luke to be sound asleep. "He doesn't need us in there with him tonight...come to bed," Owen whispered, walking up behind his wife.

"He looks so peaceful when he's asleep," Beru told him, and nodded. "But you're right, I suppose."

Luke kept his eyes closed, trying not to stir at all as they quietly shut the door part of the way, and then stared into the darkness when they were out of earshot. He turned over on his back, listening to the sounds of night.

Part VI

Luke slept all the way until noon the next day, only waking up when he broke into yet another sneezing fit. "HuhESHHHH! HahESHHHH! HuhSHHHUH! HuhASHHHH!" he barely managed to take a breath between each one, and fell against the pillows panting with exhaustion.

His Aunt and Uncle hadn't been in to see him yet, but he was somewhat grateful for the delay. He'd actually slept rather well that night, much to his relief. "HuhESHHHH!" he groaned, fetching another handkerchief from under his pillow just as the door to his room opened. "HuhASHHHH! EhSHHHUH!"

"Bless you!" Bru entered, shaking her head as he blew his nose rather loudly. "Are you ready to take a bit of broth down for me?"

Luke shrugged. Honestly, he just wanted to go back to sleep. She felt his forehead, nodding. "Fever's still the same." She set the tray down and moved to the far end of the bed, feeling his bare feet beneath the blankets. "Your feet are freezing." She began rubbing one vigorously, trying to bring some warmth back.

Luke closed his eyes, coughing a little. It was day three into tthis flu, and he still felt almost as miserable as had on day one. "HuhESHHHH! Ugh! I cad stob sdneezig today," he muttered, and she smiled encouragingly at him as she changed feet.

"That might be a good sign, though. You usually do sneeze more often when you're recovering. We might be lucky this season and only have a short bug to deal with."

Luke hoped she was right, and nestled into his blankets and pillow with a soft sigh. "Where is Uncle Owen?" he asked weakly, as she wrapped his feet in an extra blanket before rejoining him at the head of the bed.

"Out working. Did you need him?"

Luke shook his head. "No, I was just curious." He looked at the model ship on the windowsill, and then back at his Aunt. She smoothed his cheek.

"How is your handkerchief stash?" she eased him into a sitting position so she could peek under his pillow, and then back down again. "I'll have to get you a few more soon." She gave him a small kiss.

"Aunt Beru?" Luke whispered, and she looked up, acknowledging his question.

"Yes, dear?"

"Do you still have that picture of my mother by any chance?"

Beru looked surprised by the sudden request. "What made you think of that, love?"

Luke frowned. "I...I think I saw her in the dream I had last night, that's all." He shrugged. "It's stupid...I shouldn't..."

Beru shook her head. "No, Luke, it's not stupid. Of course I'll see if I can find the picture for you...I'm sure it's in one of the photo albums still." She stood up, and he watched her leave the room, wetting his lips. His Aunt had always been more understanding when he brought up the topic of his parents to her, though he tried not to talk about them very much. After all, what did he know about them? How could he possibly speak of people who were barely in his life for more than a couple of hours if that? His father...well, his father had never been in his life at all, that much he knew. Still, there was always a nagging feeling in the back of his mind, just as he was certain every orphaned child felt at some point.

He tried to sleep a bit while he waited for his Aunt to come back, and awoke when she did. "Here...I'm afraid it's very old, so be very careful with it." She handed the thin photograph to Luke, sitting down as he took it between his fingers and studied it.

"It is her...the woman in the dream I had the other night. I thought so." His mother was standing by the hut, wearing a light blue dress mixed with whisps of pink. Her brown hair hung loosely at her shoulders, curled into tight ringlets. Though she was smiling, something about her expression seemed sad. "Is this the only one you have of her?"

Beru nodded. "Yes. Unfortunately your mother did not enjoy having her picture taken."

"How could anyone so beautiful not want to have their picture taken?" Luke asked, making his Aunt laugh.

"Well, you didn't like it either, sweet. Especially when you were younger."

Luke set the picture on his lap for the moment. "Don't like it much now either," he told her, and they both laughed. "But she was really beautiful, wasn't she?" he asked, still looking down at the photo.

"She was. And one of the kindest soul's I've ever met."

"HuhESHHHH!" Luke managed to turn away in time, groaning. "Ugh...sorry," he croaked.

"Bless you, dear. I'll go and make another pot of tea...you may keep that photo if you wish."

Luke stared at her. "Can I?" he asked.

"It's yours."

"Thank you," he replied, lowering his head, and listened to his Aunt's footsteps as she made her way for the kitchen. Luke hid the picture under his pillow, not wanting his Uncle to see it if he came in. Sniffling, he buried himself beneath the blankets, trying to keep as warm as possible. His was cold all over, his teeth chattering. He shook with another set of coughs, his chest aching afterwards.

He'd just started to drift off when he heard an explosion from outside, and Aunt Beru's shriek of horror from the kitchen. Luke sat up quickly, staring at the door of his bedroom, wishing he could run out and see what was going on. In fact, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, taking a deep breath and seriously considering it for a moment. He set his feet on the ground, grasping the chair with both hands to support himself as he attempted to stand upright.

"What are you doing?" Beru cried as she came in to check on him, as though to make sure the explosion hadn't startled him too badly. Luke tried to take a step forward, but fell, and she caught him in her arms just before he hit the ground. "Luke, didn't I tell you not to get out of bed?"

"What happened?" Luke asked, clinging to her as she helped him back onto the mattress.

"DAMN DROIDS!" Owen's yells filled the hut moments later, and he came storming into the house, covered from head to toe in dirt and grime. Luke and Beru turned to him, and Beru covered her mouth with her hand.

"What happened!" she asked, and Owen spat out a mouthful of soot.

"Two droids just short-circuited is what happened!"

"Not the ones I brought from Mos Eisley, I hope," Luke spoke, once he was back under the covers.

Owen's expression softened. "No, Luke, thankfully not the new droids. But the translation droid just died on us, and the mechanic. I don't know what to do. Another trip to Mos Eisley is out of the question now...and I don't know when another group of traders might happen to come by."

Luke frowned. "I'm sorry," he apologized, and Owen shook his head.

"I'm not blaming you, boy. I'd better go and toss them into the scrap pile...we can maybe meld the metal down and make something useful out of it. But for now, we'll be two droids short again until we can get more."

**Now I'll never get to the academy,** Luke thought miserably, realizing that with two droids gone his Uncle would need his help on the farm more than ever. He didn't dare say this out loud, but Beru seemed to sense it in his face.

"Owen, why can't we hire more human hands?"

"I don't have that kind of money, Beru. If I did, I'd have done that straight off, and Luke would already be at that flight academy."

Luke's ears perked up. "But people aren't expecting much now anyway," he pointed out. "Not out in this part of Tatooine. What is there to spend money on?"

"I told you, Luke, maybe next year you'll be able to go, if things work out the way I hope. I need every ounce of help I can get, and right now, you are the only one besides the still use-able droids we have."

Luke began coughing again, and Beru rubbed his back until he relaxed. "Oh, the tea! Owen, could you go and check on the pot for me?"

"Yeah." Owen shuffled out, and she immediately drew Luke into her arms when he was out of sight.

"Love, I'm so sorry. I know how much you want to go, but you know how stubborn your Uncle can be."

Luke buried his face against her shoulder, feeling like a helpless child. "I can't stand it here anymore, Aunt Beru. I'm not meant to be a farmer, I don't like the work, I'm so bored!"

"I know. I know."

"You do, but why can't Uncle Owen? Why can't he see how much I hate this?"

"Your Uncle is thinking of your well-being, love. His work is very important to him just as much as your flying is important to you."

Luke took a trembling breath. "I'll never get out of here, will I?" he whispered, and she kissed the top of his head.

"You will get to go to the academy, Luke. I promise."

"I hope so." He realized though, that it was becoming more difficult to breathe properly again, and tried coughing to clear his chest. "My chest really hurts," he told her, and she shook her head.

"Oh Luke...I warned you about over-exerting yourself." She rubbed his back, glancing at the ventilation droid in the corner. "I'll have to hook up the droid again, love. You need to sleep."

Luke whimpered, hacking into a fist, and swaying with dizziness. "I don't want it," he whispered, prepspiration popping out all over his face.

"Try to relax," Beru encouraged, squeezing both of his hands.

"I can't..." Luke swallowed, but that only made him start coughing again.

"Here..." Beru bent down and picked up the mug of tea she'd brought in with her earlier, and put it to his lips. He sipped slowly, taking a deep breath afterwards. "Is that better?" she asked, and smoothed Luke's forehead. He gasped and nodded.

"A little," he croaked.

"I'm going to have to put the medi droid on again, Luke."

"Aunt Beru, please..." Luke could barely speak, his voice was so hoarse from coughing.

"Just for a little while, until you feel better." She kissed him and headed over to the robot, glad that Owen had taught her how to work it without his help. Luke managed to lay back down, his hand over his still-aching chest. He watched his Aunt lead the bot over, and closed his eyes as she prepared the mask.

"Won't leave me, will you?" he asked, not wanting to be left alone.

Beru stared at him as she turned on the oxygen, and prepared to put the device over his face. "I won't leave you, sweet. I'll be sitting right here." She took his hand and held onto it while she sat down, and kept a close eye on the oxygen level.

Part VII

Luke took a turn for the worst over the next day or two, though this certainly did not come as much of a surprise to Beru and Owen, who had been expecting it. The boy's fever rose, causing him to once again sleep fitfully. The coughing increased as well, and he found he could not breathe well without the ventilation droid. Hours upon hours passed in a dream-like haze as he lay as still as he could, any movement causing his head to swim with dizziness and his stomach to churn with nausea.

Beru rarely left his side, trying to get him to take down tiny sips of water while he was awake. However, his throat was so swollen by this point, that he couldn't bear it without breaking into tears.

Owen paced back and forth in the parlour one evening, his hands clasped behind his back. Dinner was cooking in the kitchen... he'd offered to take over that particular duty for his wife, and he hoped the finished product wouldn't come out too badly. After a few moments he stopped and gazed out the window, watching the double sun start to set, casting a reddish glow over the sand. He knew if Luke didn't show signs of improvement soon, they would be forced to send for the healer again. As much as he hated the hassle of getting outside help from nearby Anchorhead, there was only so much the Lars' family alone could do. They lived as simply as possible, using the most basic machinery to help them along with daily life. Though Beru had become a master with her herbal medicine mixtures, they found Luke's body couldn't handle several of the plants she used.

"Dammit," Owen grunted, going to check on the meal. He rubbed his hand over his face, rapping his fingers on the counter. He stirred the soup on the stove, testing it and cringing a little at the bitterness. Checking the recipe again, he went to search through the array of food supplies and found the spices he'd forgotten to add.

"We can't wait anymore."

Owen nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden voice from behind him, managing to catch the container he held in his hands just before it slipped to the floor. "I wish you wouldn't sneak up on me like that," he muttered as Beru came up beside him, her arms folded.

"I'm sorry. He needs a healer. Nothing we've been giving him has been helping." She wet her lips.

"Yes, I've been thinking about that." Owen turned to her. "I'll go and get the healer in the morning." Beru started to protest, but he held his hand up to silence her. "It's too dangerous to be wandering around this place in the dark. Would you rather I waited till daylight, or never came back with a healer because I've been attacked by a sand person?"

Beru frowned, glancing at the floor for a moment. "You're right."

Owen put his arms comfortingly on her shoulders. "I haven't lost my faith in Luke yet, and neither should you. He's shown he can be much stronger than we thought."

"How many more scares like this are we going to have?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"I wish I knew." Owen replied, shaking his head. "Go and sit with him...everything's all right in here."

Beru took a deep breath and headed back for the sick room, leaving Owen alone again.

She entered through the doorway, finding Luke lying with his eyes open. They had a glassy look to them, and he was murming something under his breath. "Luke?" she practically whispered, hurrying to the bed, and took his hand. He shifted away from her, blinking and whimpering.

"Father...no..." he croaked, and she stared at him.

"Luke," she smoothed his cheek, and he turned to her.

"Mother...?" he asked hopefully, and Beru nearly broke down weeping again. She kept her composure as best as she could, and shook her head.

"No, sweet. It's your Auntie. I'm right here, love. No one's going to hurt you." She felt as though she were talking to him when he was a child. Luke swallowed, taking a deep breath, and began coughing again. She allowed him to lean against her so he could take a better breath, and offered a glass of water. He shook his head miserably, turning away.

"Don't want it," he protested, and she stroked his damp hair.

"You have to take a few sips down for me, Luke."

"It hurts," he sobbed, and she nodded.

"I know it does, sweetheart." She managed to get him to take down a tiny sip, which he thankfully kept down this time. "We're fetching the healer tomorrow," she told him after he had relaxed.

"Can't afford it," he muttered, and she closed her eyes.

"We can afford anything when it comes to you, sweet. Your Uncle is going to Anchorhead tomorrow."

Luke gazed at the ship model, which Beru took down for him and set by his side. "There you are." She smiled, watching as he weakly touched the object with his fingertips. He gave a soft sigh, closing his eyes and turning his head away from her. She watched as his body settled down, attempting to meld into sleep mode. Once he'd officially gone under, she took the model ship away so he wouldn't roll over on it by accident.

Luke shifted a little, muttering something inaudible, and calmed down when she took his hand. "Shhhhhh." She soothed. "It's going to be all right, love. You'll see." Though she tried to sound confident, she didn't even feel remotely so.

Part VIII

"...pneumonia...burning...hook these up..." Luke could barely make out the full sentences of those around him the following morning. All he could see was darkness, and he felt as though his entire body was on fire. The only thing that soothed him, were the cool hands of his Aunt and Uncle and the healer who had just arrived.

Beru stood by the door of the bedroom, hugging herself tightly, and watched as Owen and Daedla the healer hooked Luke up to all sorts of complicated machinery. "These will drain the fluid from his lungs," Daedla explained, as he turned on the droid the tiny tubes protruding from Luke's chest connected to. "The others are full of medicine that will pump into him every couple of hours. He should respond to this, though if he doesn't, I'm afraid we may have to consider him..."

Owen glared at the healer. "Don't you dare say it," he snarled, noticing how white his wife's face had become. She had to sit down on the closest chair to keep from fainting, and he immediately put his arm protectively around her.

"I am merely stating the odds," Daedla insisted. "It is always best to know what to expect, because the shock of the unknown can be worse."

Owen grunted an irritated response, and bent down so he could whisper in Beru's ear. "There is nothing more the two of us can do for Luke," he told her. "We'll leave him to the healer for now."

Beru shook her head. "I...can't," she gulped, and he squeezed her hand.

"You can. We'll go and get some fresh air...you need to get out of the sickroom, or you'll go stir crazy."

Daedla nodded encouragingly. "Your boy is in good hands with me, Ma'am," he insisted. "If anything changes, I'll let you know immediately."

Beru wet her lips, lifting her head so she could look at Luke more closely. He lay so still, his face ashen, dark circles under his eyes. The boy appeared as though death was winning already. She finally allowed Owen to help her stand, and the two of them went into the hallway.

"We can't loose him," she spoke, her voice shaking as they walked through the front door and out into the late morning sunlight. The Tatooine landscape seemed so strange now. A gentle wind blew past them, swirling clouds of reddish-sand around their feet.

"We won't loose him. He's just going through another rough patch, that's all." Owen chuckled teasingly. "You'll coddle him more than ever though, won't you?"

Beru managed a smile. If it were up to her, she would not let Luke out of her sight. But he was older, and she had to give him at least some independence. It was the only way he would really grow. "I won't let him out of the house for a week," she replied as they circled the hut once.

"That's fair enough. I won't let him either," Owen laughed. "But Luke is growing up, and needs to be treated as such."

"Come now, Owen, I don't baby him nearly as badly as I did when he was younger!"

They circled the hut again, until they decided to sit outside on the stoop. "Do you remember when he first came to us?" Beru asked thoughtfully.

"All too well. Up every two hours trying to stop him from wailing."

"Half the time you let me do that," she joked. "Rarely did I see you jump up to fetch him out of his crib." She remembered holding the infant in her arms, bouncing him and singing to try to comfort him, until he fell back to sleep again. It was even more difficult, knowing he once had a real mother who cared for him. She gazed up at the clear blue sky, wondering how the sun could shine so brightly at a time like this.

Back inside, Daedla worked as quickly as he could, beginning the medication intake around lunchtime. Luke hadn't moved at all, his hands resting limply at his sides. The oxygen mask gave off it's usual, steady hiss, and the only signs of life in the boy were the steady beeps of the heart monitor and the very faint up and down movement of his chest.

Eventually, a thick, white liquid seeped through the tubes connected to Luke's arm. Daedla watched it carefully, taking down notes on a chart. It had been quite some time since he'd had such a serious case of the flu as this...the boy was developing pneumonia frighteningly fast.

As the fever had risin to an alarming degree earlier, they'd had to undress Luke and leave him only under a thin sheet in only his under drawers. The teenager was so out of it when they were working with him, that he clearly didn't care what was happening.

Sweat poured down Luke's white face, making it shimmer in the sunlight streaming through the curtains they'd covered the window with. "Please wake up," Daedlus hoped out loud. He hadn't been lying when his medicine worked with other patients, but they rarely were this ill. He sat beside the sick bed, smoothing Luke's blanket, and placed a cool cloth over his forehead.

Beru and Owen soon came back inside, deciding to sit in the parlour. Neither of them spoke for a good while, merely staring at each other and waiting. According to Daedla, no change had taken place, and Luke still remained unconscious.

Hours drug by, and the couple began to take care of the usual evening chores. Beru once again took over the stove, stirring dinner with a wooden spoon, and Owen worked in the shed.

Following dinner, Beru went into the sickroom, to find Daedla blotting Luke's forehead and cheeks with a cloth. "How is he?" she asked, offering a cup of tea, which the healer took with a nod of thanks. He set it down on the floor, and sighed.

"The fever has gone down a tiny bit, but it's still too high for my liking. His breathing sounds very congested still as well."

"Let me take over," Beru suggested. "You need to rest a while."

Daedla shook his head. "It's my job, ma'am. I don't mind, honestly."

"Break for a bit of tea at least? Or some supper?"

"Well...perhaps a small break won't hurt." He handed the damp rag to the elder woman, who gratefully took the seat when he got up.

"Thankfully his heart is still functioning properly. I've seen no abnormalities in rhythm with it."

Beru waited until the healer left the room with his tea, before bending over to kiss Luke's cheek softly. "Please come back to us, sweetheart," she spoke into his ear. "We love you so much."

**Please come back to us, sweetheart. Luke felt as though he was floating...he could hear his Aunt's voice faintly, but she was too far away from him to reach out and touch her. "I'm right here," he tried to call, but his voice was lost to the darkness. "Aunt Beru!" he called again, but his voice echoed into nothingness.

He found himself chained to a steel board, his head throbbing from a bright light that shone on him. "Where'm I..." he croaked, coughing. His vision was so blurry, and the world spun madly. I wont throw up, he thought to himself, I won't. But the sickening cold was returning, filling his stomach to painful proportions.

"Join me," an all too familiar voice hissed. "Join me, or die..."

"No..." Luke whispered, biting back a bitter bile in his throat. "No, please...please stop..." he tried to wrench himself free from the chains, but had to grit his teeth against the chill. The darkness was slowly returning, only a faint blue light in the distance.**

"All right, lad, up we go..." Daedlus noticed the sudden motion on the boy's face.

"Oh he's awake," Beru gasped, fetching the basin, which sat at the foot of the bed. Luke's eyes fluttered open, and before he could speak, he retched into the bin, gasping and choking for breath.

"That's all right. It's all right." Daedla encouraged, as Luke vomited a second time, shivering violently.

"Oh love." Beru smoothed his bangs away from his eyes, rubbing his back.

"Are you finished?" Daedla asked, once Luke calmed down, and he nodded faintly.

"I'll take that." Beru took the basin and hurried to dispose of it outside, while the healer gave Luke a bit of tea to wash out his mouth with along with another damp cloth to clean him up.

"You had us worried there," Daedla told Luke, once he was able to breathe properly again. "But you're still fairly sick."

Luke looked at him. "Unnn?" he mumbled, sniffling. He panicked a little when he realized something was stuck to his arm.

"Calm down." Daedla soothed. "These are just IV tubes, which are giving you medicine."

Owen hurried into the room at that moment, grabbing onto the door frame anxiously. "My wife told me," he gasped.

"He's not much better, but he's awake," Daedla explained. "The medicine is starting to work, I can tell. The fever has gone down considerably since this morning."

"Don't know how you do it," Owen grumbled, walking over to the bed and peering down at his nephew.

"Uncle Owen?" Luke croaked, and managed a weak smile.

"Don't try to talk, Luke. You need all the rest you can get right now."

Luke allowed the healer to lay him back down against the pillow, but he felt so horribly loopy. Nothing really made sense at the moment. He started coughing, feeling his chest tighten. "It's all right," Daedla insisted. "It's all right. You'll be all right, now."

Beru returned with a glass of water, which Luke drank a tiny bit of when offered. "He should come to a bit more tomorrow," Daedla told them.

"Are you planning on spending the night?" Owen asked, once Luke had fallen back to sleep.

"It would probably be best if I did, to keep an eye on the medicine distribution. But if it's too much trouble, I'll give you the instructions and will be back in the morning."

Beru shook her head. "Nonsense! You may spend the night. We do have an extra cot here for you. It would be a great help to us if you stayed, at least until Luke is able to sleep without the machines."

Daedla nodded in understanding. "Very well, thank you."

"I'll get a fresh set of sheets for the cot," Beru told Owen, squeezing his arm and leaving the room.

"What will Luke's recovery period be like, do you have an idea?" Owen asked, knowing the boy wouldn't be able to walk for at least a day or so once the fever broke.

"Well, I would certainly not allow him to do anything too physical for at least a week or so, and we'll have to ease him back on regular solid food. You don't necessarily have to keep him bed, but I would recommend taking him into the living room for a few hours so he can get proper sunlight. Each person is different with how they recover, though, but that is the general routine."

Beru came in with the sheets, and made up the cot for the healer. "If you need anything tonight, please don't hesitate to ask us," she told him.

"Thank you."

Luke shifted in the bed, whimpering softly. "Well, I'm going to go and shut the power off. We generally do around now," Owen told Daedla.

"All right. I'll be just fine here. No need to worry about me...just go about your business."

Owen went towards the front door, while Beru stood beside Luke. "Good night, sweet." She kissed his forehead. After saying goodnight to the healer, she left, shutting the door behind her.

Part IX

Over the next couple of days, Luke drifted in and out of consciousness. When his fever finally broke a week and a half following his first signs of illness, the Lars' family were overcome with exhaustion. The healer remained with them through the entire ordeal, not charging anymore than he'd agreed to in the first place.

Luke sat up in bed as he watched the healer packing up his things, and managed to thank him in a very hoarse voice. "Oh you're quite welcome. You were one of my easiest patients to deal with, Luke. I'm very impressed." He patted the boy on the head as he snapped his bag. "I wouldn't suggest walking about quite yet, though. You're still weak, and will require quite a bit of recuperation time. But I told your Aunt and Uncle that they may carry you into the parlour if you'd like, to get some sun and fresh air. Goodness knows we won't have to worry about chilly breezes on Tatooine!"

Luke chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Have a safe trip back," he added, and Daedla tipped his hat before making his way into the living room. Beru and Owen sat on the couch waiting for him, and each stood up to shake hands once he arrived.

"Thank you so much," Beru announced.

"Anytime. Just keep a close eye on him for the next couple of days...too much exertion could cause a relapse, so make sure he takes it easy."

Owen nodded. "We will, we will. Thank you again, sir. Beru, I'll transport him back to Anchorhead, and shouldn't be very long."

Beru stepped aside to let the men past her, and instantly ran into the sick room. "HuhESHHH! HahESHHHHH!" Luke sneezed just as she came over to the bed, and he rubbed his nose with the corner of his sleep shirt sleeve.

"Bless you!" Beru felt his cheeks and forehead, as though to prove to herself that the fever was truly gone.

"I'm sorry I scared you again," Luke told her as she cuddled him close.

"Please don't be sorry, love. I know you can't help getting sick." She kissed his temple, rubbing his shoulders for warmth.

"Ex...HuhESHHHUH! Excuse me," Luke croaked, managing to duck his head as he sneezed again. "HutCHUUUH!"

"Bless you." Beru sighed, resting her chin on his shoulder. "I wish I could keep you with me forever," she told him. "But I know eventually you will be leaving us to go to the flight academy, or to wherever you decide to go."

Luke kissed her back. "You'll never loose me," he insisted, curling up more tightly against her.

"I haven't held you like this since you were a child," she told him with a small laugh as Luke rested his head against her lap. He enjoyed being coddled every so often, especially after he'd been so sick. Beru lay with him until Owen returned about an hour later, and Luke begged to be taken out of his bedroom.

"We'll have to carry you for now," Owen told him seriously. "The doctor doesn't want you walking about yet. Maybe tomorrow we'll start you on your feet again, eh?"

Luke nodded, though reluctantly, and allowed his Uncle to lift him carefully off of the bed. It was then he realized then just how exhausted he was. Even the thought of walking the short distance from his room to the parlour seemed impossible. Beru walked behind them, acting as a spotter until Owen settled Luke onto the most comfortable couch. They wrapped him in a blanket up to his waist, propping his head up with pillows. "How is that, love?" Beru asked, and Luke smiled at her. "Better."

"Good."

"Oh! I almost forgot to mention..." Owen pulled up one of the wooden chairs. "When I was down in anchorhead, I heard mention that a troupe of Jawas has been spotted nearby, and they're planning on making some droid sales. I figured we could snag a few off them when they reach the area, that way we'll be set."

Luke sniffled, clearing his throat. "That's good."

"We'll see how you feel in another week before you can start working with me again. Can't risk a relapse."

"No way." Luke agreed. "I hated being as sick as I was as it is."

"Would you like some tea?" Beru asked, and Luke nodded, hoping the steam would clear his sinuses. He still felt horribly stuffed up, and had to fight the urge to sneeze every five seconds.

"Thank you," he told her, and she got up to go into the kitchen.

"HihYIISHHH! HuhASHHHH!" Luke buried his face in his shoulder, nearly knocking himself off of the couch. "Ow," he muttered, once he came out.

"Bless," Owen laughed.

"Nose itches," Luke sighed, and leaned back.

"I'm sure you'll survive." Owen winked, and Luke grinned.

"What would you do without me?" he teased.

"I honestly don't know, Luke. I'm getting old...I need young blood around the farm."

This statement made Luke laugh harder than he had in ages. Beru came in to find her nephew turning blue with giggles, and her husband fighting some of his own. "Good gracious, what's happened?" she asked, and soon Owen erupted with a hearty guffaw.

"N-nothing," Luke gasped, and managed to stop laughing long enough to accept the mug of tea. He blew on it until it cooled enough for him to drink, and took a small sip.

"Beru," Owen warned, as she gave Luke another hug and series of kisses.

She merely laughed too, and joined him in another chair, taking Luke's hand. "Is the tea all right?" she asked, watching as he drank more of it.

"Mmm hmmm." He looked out the window. "Looks so beautiful in here with the sun shining in, doesn't it?"

Beru and Owen glanced at each other. "Kind of shimmers like gold, almost. I can really see the sunlight...can almost touch it."

Silence followed his statement, and he found his elders looking at him with worried expressions. "I'm sorry," he told them. "I really did think..."

"That you were dying." Beru frowned. "Oh Luke, we thought we'd never see your eyes open again."

"Please don't tell me this will put off my going to the academy for another year," Luke begged, noticing Owen's eyes on him.

"Luke..."

"I'll never be well if you don't let me be well!" he exclaimed with frustration. "I need to get away from here, to be my own person..."

"I understand," Owen told him. "but Luke, I will keep my promise about your going next season."

Beru was tempted to leave the room, but the look of despair on her nephew's face kept her there. "Luke, please try to compromise. The next season will go by before you know it."

"Let this be the end of the discussion, Luke. The last thing we want is for you to get sick again because you get yourself over excited."

Luke bit back another retort, sighing heavily, and continued to drink his tea. "HuhKSHHHH! AhKSHHHHH!" he sniffed wetly, and Beru handed him a clean handkerchief.

"You'll make yourself sick to your stomach if you do that," she warned, and he blew his nose loudly. "HaSHEESH! HuhESHHHH!" he blew again, groaning miserably.

"Poor thing." She smoothed his hair. "Close your eyes, and I'll make you some soup."

"I'm not really hungry," Luke told her. His stomach still felt a little queasy, and he was afraid of being ill again.

"Well, you have to eat something, love. The soup will be bland, so it won't upset your stomach too much. It'll take some time before you eat normal food again," she explained, and Luke scowled.

"I suppose." He settled back.

When Beru left, Owen gave the boy a serious look. "I don't mean to trap you here, Luke," he admitted. "If I really didn't need the help, I would send you off straight away."

Luke sighed. "Im just not meant for farming work," he replied. "I try, but I just...I don't know, I'm so bored with it."

Owen grunted under his breath. "I guess it's not for everyone. But it would not hurt for you to compromise every now and again, considering we gave you the clothes on your back and a roof over your head for all of these years."

Luke raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry," he apologized, and Owen squeezed his arm.

"No, I am. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that.' He ruffled Luke's hair affectionately. "Am I forgiven?" he asked hopefully.

Luke nodded. "Of course."

"Good."

Luke closed his eyes, feeling exceedingly tired again. Beru soon came back with a small bow of soup, and found Luke to be sleeping soundly.

"I'd hate to wake him," she whispered, and Owen leaned back in his chair.

"We'll heat it up later if he wants it," he suggested, as she leaned in to kiss him, before deciding to bring the soup back into the kitchen.

**Beloved...**

Luke shifted in his sleepy haze, hearing a familiar voice calling him from a distance.

**Mother,** he thought.

**Keep hope, my darling.**

**I'm trying, but it's so hard...**

**Keep hope...**

The voice was soon gone again.

Part X

Luke regained his strength slowly over the next couple of days. When the Jawas were spotted only ten minutes away, Owen called Luke from the kitchen. "Would you like to give me a hand?"

Luke hugged his Aunt tightly from where they stood in the parlour, and she kissed his cheek. "Be careful," she told him, and took his arm to support his walk to the kitchen.

"We won't be long, Beru." Owen pointed out, taking his nephew from her. Luke took small steps, still feeling extraordinarily tired. "Take it easy, boy," Owen warned, and led Luke outside for the first time since he'd come back from Mois Eisley.

The hot Tatooine sun burned on his neck, but the feeling o fresh air felt absolutely exhilarating.

"There...I see them just over the horizon," Owen pointed to the large, dark vehicle coming towards them.

"HuhESHHHHH! HahESHHHH!" Luke sneezed loudly, clearning his throat, and cursing himself mentally.

"Bless," Owen told Luke. "Wait here for a few moments...I'm going to go and make sure that's what these things are here for."

Luke waited patiently, making small figures in the sand with the toe of his boot. The vehicle moved closer, looking like some lopsided metal box. "Huh...eh..." He buried his nose into his handkerchief a moment later, trying to stifle the next set of sneezes. But the fight ended in vain, and his ears popped painfully. "HuhTCHHHH! HuhESHHHHH!" the last thing he wanted to do, he thought miserably, was to frighten the Jawas and ruin the trade. They needed the droids badly, so it wasn't something they could just blow off as though it were nothing. But still, he couldn't hide the fact that when he recovered from something, he still sneezed excessively.

Eventually the vehicle came to a stop, and Owen motioned for Luke to come to him. He took a deep breath and walked carefully to the site, grabbing onto Owen's arm for further support when he reached it. His Uncle was talking to the Jawas in their language, and Luke's eyes fell upon a particular droid in the line. It could have honestly passed for a human being from a distance, and it's gold metal frame blinded him momentarily as it reflected the sunlight.

"They said we could choose any of these," Owen explained to Luke, who was trying not to cough.

"Luke!" Beru's voice called from the hut, and Owen raised an eyebrow.

"Go and see what she needs."

Luke jogged over to the hut, peering own into the "yard". "Oh sweet, don't run," Beru warned as he began coughing.

"What's the troubule?" he asked, when he managed to catch his breath.

"Remind your Uncle that we need one that speaks bocce," she explained, and Luke glanced over his shoulder.

"I don't think we have much of a choice," he admitted, "but I'll remind him."

Beru smiled. "Take it slow, love. You're still recovering."

"I will." He hurried back just as he heard a very high- pitched, thickly accented voice speaking.

"I am See Threepio, Human Cyber relations."

Luke held onto his Uncle for a moment, out of breath.

"Take it easy," Owen told him, before looking back at the droid. "Do you know customs and protocol?" he asked hopefully, and the robot perked up considerably.

"Do I know protocol! Why, it's my primary function! I am also well..."

"Don't need a protocol droid. Luke, start surveying oth..."

"HuhESHHHHH!" Luke doubled over, startling the Jawas who stood in a group nearby.

"Luke, go and lay down if you don't feel well."

Luke shook his head. "I'm fine," He insisted, though lying down on the couch again seemed rather inviting.

"If you're sure." Owen checked Luke's forehead just to be safe, and found him to be normal.

"I was sick," Luke explained to Threepio, who inquired if anything was the matter.

"Oh...I am terribly sorry to hear that sir," Threepio apologized genuinely.

"Thanks." Luke went to finish surveing the rest of the droids, while Owen continued speaking with Threepio. One of the small R-2 units whistled and beeped anxiously, rocking back and forth on his "legs". Luke ignored him, and saw another red and white R-2 unit waiting patiently.

"How about this one?" he asked, and Owen, after agreeing to take Threepio, joined Luke. The two asked about it's condition to the Jawas, who gave the bot a good evaluation.

"All right, we'll take both of these, then. Luke, bring them both back to the garage and if you're feeling up to it, could you have them cleaned up and ready before dinner?"

Luke groaned...he'd been hoping to travel to the Tosche station to visit his last remaining friends. A bulk of them had gone to the flight acadamey, but there were two or three that were not able to afford it yet. Still, the thought that his Aunt probably would refuse to let him go further than this today played in the back of his mind.

"Uncle Owen..." he wet his lips. "I was hoping to go into Tosche station to pick up those power converters I wasn't able to get at Mos Eisley. They might have them at..."

"Luke, you know your Aunt doesn't want you going too far yet," Owen told him. "I think it's safer for you to stay near the hut until all of your strength is back. We cant risk your relapsing so soon." He patted Luke's shoulder, noticing the disappointed expression on the boy's face. "You'll soon be flying your pod all over Tatooine before you know it, all right?"

"All right." Luke sighed, and called for the red robot to follow him. Threepio was already on the move, and paused to wait for the other R2 unit. "Come on, red, let's go!" Luke repeated, rolling his eyes, and watched as it finally rolled towards him.

"Feel free to lean on me, sir," Threepio suggested, having remembered Luke holding onto his Uncle.

"No, I'll be okay. Thanks though," Luke chuckled. They barely made it ten feet from the Jawa site when the red R2 unit short circuited and exploded from it's top. Luke jumped in surprise, whirling around to stare at it.

The smoke rising from he bot made Luke's chest tighten, and he coughed before peering into it. "Uncle Owen!" he exclaimed. "The motor-central on this cultivator unit is shot, look!" he tried to adjust the device, but only succeeded in letting several electric sparks fly.

Owen glared at the Jawa in front of him. "What kind of junk are you trying to push on us?" he asked, his voice menacing. Jawas were afraid of their own shadow, so the creature instantly let out an indignant shout, and backed nervously away with it's hands raised.

Almost instantly, the R2 unit whom Luke had passed by previously, began making loud bleeps and whistles again, scuttling out from the line so he could be seen.

"Begging your pardon, sir," Threepio suggested, tapping Luke on the shoulder. "But might I suggest that Artoo unit?" he pointed to it, and Luke raised an eyebrow. "He's in top condition and quite a bargain. Don't let all that sand and dust covering him fool you, I've worked with him before."

Luke nodded, and suggested the unit to Owen. "We don't want any trouble," Owen told the Jawa. "How about that blue one?"

Once the official payments were made, Luke called the blue bot over to him. Threepio glared down at it, booping it over the head. "Why I stick my neck out for you is quite beyond capacity," he growled, and the two followed Luke back to the hut.

After Luke led them into the garage, he had to pause to sneeze again. "HuhESHHHH! AhCHSHHHH! Sorry...ugh." He rubbed his nose with the corner of his sleeve. "I'll be right back," he told the droids, hurrying into the hut to find a handkerchief.

"Is everything all right?" Beru asked as he headed towards his bedroom.

"I just need a handkerchief," he explained, noticing the book in her hands.

"Found this on the floor," she told him, and he took it.

"Oh, thanks." He gave her a small kiss. "We bought the new droids...I'm just going to give them a clean up," he added, and finished walking to his bedroom. He found a fresh handkerchief under his pillow, and before he used it, he decided to take a peep towards the end of the novel. A paragraph caught his eye, and he felt a strange relation to it, one that hit deep.

** "I am so unhappy, and all that should have made me otherwise is so laid to waste, that if I had been bereft of sense to this hour, and instead of being as learned as you think me, had to begin to acquire the simplest truths, I cold not want a guide to peace, contentment, honour, all the good of which I am quite devoid, more abjectly than I do. Does that not repel you?"

"No!"

In the innocence of her brave affection, and brimming up of her old devoted spirit, the once deserted girl shone like a beautiful light upon the darkness of the other.

Louisa raised the hand that t might clasp her neck and join its fellow there. She fell upon hr knees, and clinging to this stroller's child looked up at her almost with veneration.

"Forgive me, pity me, help me! Have compassion on my great need, and let me lay this head of mine upon a loving heart!"

"O lay it here!" cried Sissy. "Lay it here, my dear!" **

Luke sighed, shutting the book, and put it on his shelf before making his way back to the shed. "I need no pity," he muttered, "But please, someone help me," he muttered, disappearing inside.

**The End** (So Starts Episode IV)

This is actually a pre-Episode IV fic...happening maybe two or three weeks before. It's actually the basis for another story I've started, but I wanted to post this first so I gave you guys some type of knowledge as to how I got to where I did with the newer story. So yes, enjoy, and feedback is encouraged!
Notes for part IV: The passages in **'s are actually from Charle's Dicken's "Hard Times", hence the title of this story is from a chapter title in that book.
Notes for part X: forgot to mention at the end that the paragraph with **'s at the end of chapter 10 are again passages from Charles Dickens' "Hard Times". I hope you all enjoyed the fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! :)