More Than That
a Star Wars story
by Hermione Eveningfall

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Chapter 1

"Luke, you really should go home...you sound terrible." Camie frowned deeply after her friend, Luke Skywalker, finished his third bout of harsh coughing in the past half hour. They sat in an old mechanic's garage, attempting vainly to help the main employee, Biggs, fix an old podracer. On Luke's other side, another teenager scrubbed furiously at a hunk of platinum, his tongue sticking out from the corner of his mouth. Camie sat her wrench on the table in front of her, wiping her hand along her cheek. She left a smear of grease on her cheek and forehead as a result, and pulled a strand of dark brown hair behind one ear.

Shortly after she'd spoken, Biggs himself appeared from the back room, carrying a large gallon of liquid coolant. "Looking good, guys," he announced, grinning at the partially finished scraps scattered about. "We'll have a base for the thing tonight."

"Biggs, come here for a minute." Camie hopped off of her chair, pushing aside her pile of tools. The tall, wirey man with shaggy black hair cocked his head to one side, setting down his burden before joining her. "Does he look okay to you? He won't listen to me."

Luke glanced up at his friends, frowning slightly. He hated being fussed over, and worse, he hated being talked about as though he were no more important than the speeder. "What's up, Luke? You know you can go home anytime you want. This is just a volunteer deal anyway."

"Yeah, I know." Luke shrugged. "I just have a cold, I'll be fine."

"I'll be fine," Camie mocked, rolling her eyes. "That's what you said last time, and you were sick for three days!"

"Camie, leave the boy alone. If he says he's fine, he's fine. I'll bring you away from these two if you want, Luke. I need a hand hooking the engine together."

Luke grinned, grateful, and pushed the chair back to stand. He barely took a step when he stumbled forward, being caught by the other boy, Deak. "Luke!" Camie cried, alarmed. "Are you okay?"

"The heat's getting to me, that's all." Luke insisted, steadying himself, and taking a trembling breath. "Let's go, huh?" he led the way out of the building, leaving the other three with very surprised expressions on their faces. Luke sighed once he got into fresh air, and shivered a little. In all honesty, he'd been feeling lousy for the past few days, and spent most of the previous night coughing and sneezing repeatedly. His Aunt Beru had given him a cup of steaming tea, which had soothed the symptoms somewhat, though it had taken quite a bit of begging and pleading to be allowed out doors this afternoon.

The fact that it was nearing fleet season hung in the boy's mind, so the prospect of his falling ill was not foreign. "HuhKESHHHH! EtSHHHHH!" Luke groaned, his head pounding, and knelt down by the bundle of wires and other circuits in the sand. Biggs eventually joined him after having run around to the back to retrieve a couple of extra supplies.

"So what's up, Luke? You can tell me, kid."

Luke shrugged, rubbing his nose and sniffling. "Just like I said, Biggs. I think I'm just getting a cold or something."

"How long has it been since you first felt under the weather?"

"Biggs, I don't need to be interrogated, okay? I just...I ju... UhKSHHHUUU!"

"Need to go home, or there will be five of us down instead of one." Biggs winked. "I won't tell them anything...you can just sneak away."

"Biggs," Luke sighed, ruffling his light brown hair with irritation. But his friend's expression was so serious that he decided it was better to comply, and nodded. "All right. I guess I will go home and try to take it easy for a while."

Biggs grinned. "Good man. Thanks for stopping by, buddy. I appreciate it." He didn't need to add it, but Luke knew what he was thinking: Though I wish you hadn't come out if you felt sick.

"You will fly by with the speeder when it's done, won't you?" Luke asked, scurrying toward his own, parked alongside the mechanic's garage. He paused to cough again, grasping onto the edge of the speeder as he struggled to draw in a good breath.

"I'll take you home," Biggs offered.

"No, don't, I'll make it. It's only a few miles," Luke croaked, feeling very weak and exhausted. He was lying through his teeth...his vision blurred every few seconds, but the last thing he wanted was to sacrifice his friend's time.

"Luke, shut up, and let me drive you back, okay?"

Luke blinked, too exhausted to argue further. "EtSHHHHH! HuhESHHHHH!"

Biggs shook his head. "I'll let the other's know I'm heading out, and we'll get going. Just hop in the passenger seat and take it easy."

Luke climbed into his speeder, shocked at how much worse he felt since merely a few hours ago. He leaned against the back of the seat, closing his eyes in an attempt to doze while he waited for Biggs. Camie and Deak ran out of the mechanic shortly after Biggs went in, and Luke felt a pair of arms wrapping around him. "Feel better," Camie whispered, and he stared in surprise.

"I couldn't keep them away, Luke. You know these guys, stubborn as banthas when you try to mess with them." He winked at Deak, who threw a playful punch on his friend's shoulder.

"Since you all aren't busy, Deak and Camie can follow behind me on my speeder so I'll have a ride back from your Aunt and Uncle's," Biggs suggested, and Luke nodded, breaking into coughing again. He felt so achy, and wanted to curl up in bed with a bowl of hot soup to sooth his sore throat. He waited as patiently as he could for Biggs to set up the situation, and watched as Camie and Deak moved alongside them in his speeder.

"Ready?" Biggs asked, hopping into the driver's seat, and Luke nodded.

"Yeah. Thanks for taking me back."

"You would have killed yourself if I let you go by yourself, pal. You can barely stand on your feet properly." He gunned the engine, and soon, both podracers were zooming across the red and yellow desert of Tatooine.

They arrived at the Lars' hut in about fifteen minutes, with Beru dashing through the front door as soon as they pulled close enough for her to see. "Luke!" she cried, stopping short as Biggs lifted the half-conscious boy out of the podracer. "Luke, sweetheart...what's happened?" she smoothed her nephew's cheek, finding his skin to be burning with fever. "Get him inside, quickly!" she gasped, and then glanced at Camie and Deak, who were scrambling out of the second speeder. "Come in, there's no need for you to stand out here in this sweltering heat!" she urged them after her, and the two teens gave each other awkward glances before obeying orders.

"Aunt Beru," Luke croaked as Biggs carried him to his bedroom. "I'm fine. I'm just really tired." He coughed, struggling once again to take a proper breath.

"Shhhh. Thank you, Biggs, for bringing him back." She pulled the blankets up to Luke's neck, and squeezed his hand. "You're going to be just fine, dear."

"Is he..." Camie swallowed hard. "He is going to be all right, isn't he?"

"Yes," Luke told her, sniffling, and Beru sighed.

"Luke, what am I going to do with you? You over exert yourself too frequently. I'll put on a pot of tea for you, sweet. For the rest of you, would you like to stay for a small snack? You look famished!"

They shook their heads. "No, Mrs. Lars, but thanks. We wanted to make sure Luke got back safe and sound," Biggs told her.

"Posh! Follow me into the kitchen, and I'll find something for you to nibble on. Luke, would you like anything else, dear?"

"No, I'm f...CHSHHHHH!"

"Bless you," everyone told him in unison.

"All right. I'll be back soon, love. Just rest your eyes for now." She led the other three into the kitchen, where her husband, Owen, was coming in from the yard.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, surprised to see Luke's friends gathered with his wife around the counter.

"Luke's getting worse, Owen. They had to bring him home. He's in his room if you want to see him," she announced, and Owen sighed. The boy, though he had a strong will, his body was another story. He was always coming down with something or other, no matter how much they tried to protect him from it. We were warned, he added to himself as he made his way towards Luke's room. That Obi- Wan person did warn us when we agreed to take Luke, that he was a rather weak baby. But we were hoping he'd grow out of it, we were. Luke did have his good months, however, and the Lars' couple were quite proud of their boy in many ways, despite this one rather serious fault.

Luke was asleep when he entered the room, though the boy was deathly pale and breathing unevenly when he looked closer. Owen had never been one to coddle the boy, that was true...Beru and Luke had more in common when it came to that stuff. "Luke?" he called in a rather soft voice, causing the boy to stir.

Beru eventually came in, after having said goodbye to the trio, and took his arm. "We'll let him rest for now," she told him, "before we worry too much. I'd hate to wake him."

Owen nodded. "That boy never seems to be perfectly well, does he?" he sighed. "I do wish he'd grow out of this."

Beru smiled. "I'm sure he will, Owen. We just have to keep what we're doing. He's a fine boy. Come on, and we'll have tea together in the parlor." She allowed him to walk ahead of her, before hurrying to Luke's side, and planting a gentle kiss on his forehead. "I love you," she whispered, and he smiled softly.

"I know," he replied, yawning, and turning to the side, sinking into the sleepy haze once more.

---

Chapter 2

"It's good to see you sitting up," Beru spoke as she entered the bedroom later that evening. She balanaced a tray in one arm, while nudging the door open with the other. Luke leaned against the stone wall supporting his bed, an old, tattered book in his hands. He was so engrossed in the story that he jumped when his Aunt tapped him on the shoulder after sitting the tray on his desk.

"Oh, hello," he greeted, coughing. "Sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

"Clearly not." She smiled, feeling his forehead. "You still have a temperature. How are you feeling, love?"

Luke shrugged. "About the same, I guess."

She nodded, and then pointed to the tray. "I've brought you a bowl of soup for dinner if you're hungry, and some tea and toast."

Luke sighed. "I'm not really hungry," he admitted, the thought of food making his stomach churn. "And my throat hurts." He put the book down as he began coughing again, shivering when she felt behind his ears.

"Your glands are swelling." She shook her head. "At least try a few sips of broth or tea...that should help."

Luke started to protest again, but decided it wasn't worth arguing, and nodded. "Okay, I guess. Ugh, can barely breathe. HuhKSHHHHH!" he shot forward, knocking his book from his lap.

"Bless you, dear." Beru brought the bowl of broth over to the bed, sitting back down just as Luke began blowing his nose with a handkerchief he found under his pillow. "You've had this cold for over a week," she added. "I am starting to get a little worried."

"It wasn't so bad before," Luke admitted, allowing her to put a few small spoonfuls into his mouth. "Aunt Beru, you don't have to sit with me. I can feed myself, you know." He smirked after accepting another sip. Beru frowned. Luke was eighteen years old, that was true, but there were times when she almost found herself in a bit of denial. This denial only grew worse when he was ill, and she couldn't bare leaving him for long periods of time in these situations.

"I know." She chuckled. "All right." She kissed his cheek. "I'm going to go and finish dinner for your Uncle and I. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to holler."

"I won't."

Beru kissed the top of his head, picking the book from the floor and sitting it on the bed again. She left the room, entering the kitchen just as Owen took a seat at the table. He gave a rather sly grin as she sat down in her usual spot, after placing their meal in the center. "What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"He booted you out, didn't he?"

"No," Beru insisted, serving herself. "Why do you say that?"

Owen snorted. "Because he's eighteen. Your coddling won't have as much of an affect on him anymore. You're too soft on that boy, anyway."

"Are we going to have this argument again?" she asked, sighing. "I do not coddle him too much. The boy never had a mother to grow up with...he needs female influence."

"And he's had plenty, I think."

"He can never have too much. Just because you didn't have enough as a child doesn't mean Luke can't if he has the option."

"Tuh," was Owen's response, and he continued eating, deciding to end the conversation. Beru watched him for a moment, shaking her head. Her husband could be so gruff and hard sometimes, and wondered how she survived with him all of these years. She thought back to when Obi-Wan Kenobi first brought baby Luke to live with them, how the two adults had spent most nights sitting with the wailing infant. It brought a small hint of satisfaction when she was the one who had an easier time calming him, soothing him with kisses and soft caresses. She would often come dashing into the nursery to rescue Owen from the baby, and chuckled to herself as she took another bite of her stew.

"Now what's so funny?" he asked, and both adults paused when they heard Luke break into a sneezing fit in the distance.

"UhKSHHHHH! EtSHHHHH! HuTSHHHHH! EtSHHHHHH!" A bout of coughing followed, and a soft, "Help..." which sent Beru out of her seat and running back in to the sick room. Luke hung limply over the side of the bed, clutching at his chest and gasping for air.

"Oh Luke..." She eased him into a sitting position, rubbing his back as he began to cough again. He sounded as though he were choking, making her heart race with fear. "It's all right, sweetheart." She began patting his back now, trying to loosen the mucus stuck in his throat. He gagged and spat into the handkerchief she held against his lips, sobbing and swallowing in a bit of a panic. "Shhhhhh." She held her breath, hesitating to look at the contents of the cloth. When she did, she found the phlegmn to be streaked with a few specks of blood. She quickly balled it up, tossing it on the floor for the moment, and encouraged Luke to take a sip of tea.

"Is everything all right in here?" Owen peered through the doorway, watching as Luke sipped the tea slowly, his cheeks flushed.

"Owen...f-find the medical book for me, please. Hurry," she half whispered, once Luke had enough to drink.

"Aunt Beru," Luke gulped, sniffling. "My chest keeps tightening up on me."

"Your Uncle is fetching the medical book so we can try to find what's ailing you," she told him.

"I felt okay until I started sneezing," Luke told her. "Then I felt like my breath was being sucked away."

Beru ran her fingers through his hair, nodding in understanding. "You are very congested, love. Ah, here he comes."

Owen carried the large volume into the room, and sat down on a chair beside his wife. "What are your symptoms, Luke? Be as specific as you can, okay?"

Luke nodded, still leaning against his Aunt for support. "My head and throat hurt, my chest is really tight, my vision gets a bit blurry on and off...I couldn't see straight when I was getting into the speeder earlier, but it hasn't happened much since I came home."

"And this cold has been going on for the past few days if I recall," Owen added, thumbing through the pages and scrolling down the list of illnesses.

Luke rubbed his nose with the corner of his sleeve, feeling incredibly weak and exhausted beyond words. "Owen," Beru announced, and he glanced at her, his finger paused at a particular page. She leaned forward and whispered something in his ear, which he took with a short gasp of surprise. Luke blinked.

"What?" he asked. "What is it?"

"Nothing, dear."

"Please, Aunt Beru, I'm old enough to handle it," he added, and Beru shook her head.

"Luke, just calm down. It's going to be just fine, all right?"

"He seems to be coming down with a touch of bronchitis," Owen concluded, studying the page closely that he'd come to.

"Bronchitis?" Luke gulped, only starting to cough again. "Can I see?" he added, and Owen started to hand the book to his nephew, but Beru blocked the way between them.

"Lay down, love, and rest. I'll go and fetch a compress for your forehead." She gave Owen a warning look, easing the boy back againt his pillows before making her way out of the room. When she was gone, Owen sighed, and allowed Luke to study the book. He wet his lips, anxiously watching as the boy studied the symptoms listed underneath the illness.

"I..." he looked up. "I didn't cough up blood, did I?" he felt his own voice shaking, and Owen gave a small nod.

"So your Aunt says. Not much, though, but that distinguishes your illness from a regular cold or flu. Plus, that would explain why your cold has been lingering so long. But don't worry, lad. We'll take good care of you." He awkwardly patted Luke's shoulder, shutting the book as Beru came back with a bowl of water and a rag over the edge of it. She took one look at Luke's slightly green face, and glared at Owen.

"Out, go!" she snapped. "I told you not to tell him," she hissed, and Owen shook his head.

"It's only appropriate that he start to know the truth of things, Beru. He's an adult, and should be treated like one. But I'll go if that's what you'd like."

"I didn't mean it to come out that way," Beru told him, "But really, Owen, please. You know how over excited he gets with things."

"I know I don't like being talked about as though I'm an object," Luke grumbled, startling both relatives into staring at him. "Please don't fight, either. I don't want to be the cause of a disagreement," he croaked, and Beru's expression softened considerably.

"You're right. I'm sorry." She glanced at Owen, who looked back at her. "I'm jusr worried."

"I know. Well, I'm going to go and finish up dinner...want me to heat yours up for later?" he stood, and Beru nodded.

"Please, thank you."

Luke sighed when his Uncle left, and held onto his Aunt's hand once she took it. "I shouldn't have gone to the garage today," he admitted, and she merely smiled.

"No, you shouldn't have, but your Uncle and I can't prohibit you from going where you think you're capable of going. You are responsible for yourself, now, love. But since you are under our roof we do have every right to check in...and what...what is that buzzing noise?" she glanced around the room, and Luke sat up, hearing it also. He let go of his Aunt, and found a cord tucked beneath the pillow.

"Oh! I forgot about this." He laughed weakly, pressing a tiny red button in the center. "My friends and I invented it...if they're in close range, we have sensors hooked to each of their speeders and houses that connects to this post, and they can check in on me."

Beru blinked, listening as the buzzing came back in a certain series of bleeps. "You children are much too clever for me. You live at least a mile from each other!"

"Camie lives just over the hill," Luke told her. "It's easier for her and I to hook this up. We buried it under the sand so no one would notice."

"And when do you use this buzzer?" Beru asked, kissing Luke's cheek after he put it back under the pillow.

"Mostly at night when we're bored and can't sleep."

"You always have been clever with building things." She wanted to add `Just like your father', but chose not to. She and Owen had made a decision to mention Luke's parents as little as possible, due to unfortunate circumstances that would put the boy in danger if he knew too much. Instead, she tucked the blanket around his sides, and gave him another kiss. "Would you like me to sit with you? Or are you all right by yourself?"

Luke shrugged. "I don't mind, Aunt Beru. I'm feeling a little better. I just want to go to sleep, I think."

She nodded. "Well, I'll sit with you until you fall asleep at least. But I'm going to bring some of these things back into the kitchen, and then I'll be back."

Luke nodded, burying down under his covers, and trying to get comfortable.

---

Camie hopped out of her speeder just before dark, her long hair rustling in the slightly cooler breeze. "Where have you been?" her mother asked, peering through one of the hollow windows. "You know what time we shut the power down!"

Camie sighed, switching off the engine and slipping a golden key into her breeches pocket. "I'm sorry, Mom," she apologized, making her way for the hut. "Got caught up in what we were doing. We got delayed working on Bigg's new speeder...Luke got sick, so we had to bring him home." She felt her heart sinking as she thought of her friend, and though she was grateful that he had answered her anxious buzzes, she still felt a strong sense of worry about him.

"It's not contagious is it?" A tall, middle-aged woman stepped out of the hut, her brown dress streaked with flour from baking. She wiped her hands on her apron, and encouraged her daughter inside.

"I don't think so," Camie replied, having wondered about that herself. "But I'm going to bed. I'm exhausted...it's been a long day."

Her mother frowned, watching as she disappeared down the dim hallway towards the sleeping quarters in the back of the hut, and stepped outside. Gazing upwards, her dark eyes focused on the billions upon billions of stars dominating the ink black sky, which only became brighter when she pushed the button connecting to the hut's power supply. She walked back into the hut, shutting the door, leaving behind her the natural noises of a Tatooine night.

---

Chapter 3

Luke slept on and off throughout the next day, his fver rising and falling. As they traditionally did when Luke became sick, Owen and Beru took shifts sitting with him, trying to bring his temperature down. Beru sat with him after lunch, having brought a tray with a bowl of soup and glass of water. "Try to take a bit of broth down, love," she announced, after he finished a fit of coughing.

Luke shook his head, too nauseous to to trust eating or drinking anything. The coughing start up once again, and his chest felt as thougha bantha were sitting on top of it. Beru rubbed his back comfortingly, noticing how sweaty he was. "Shhhhh. Try to take a breath." No doubt the boy was getting worse...the cough especially. It sounded almost as though he were choking.

"I...can't," Luke gasped, his face growing red. Beru felt a wave of panic go through her, and set the tray on the ground. She began patting his back a bit more forcefully this time, trying to release whatever was blocking his wind pipe. Finally, Luke gagged and spat into the nearest basin Beru could find for him, and he let out a sob.

"I feel so sick," he told her, and she brushed her fingertips along his cheek.

"I know, love. Try to take a bit of water down at least...I think it's best if we try the soup a little later." Luke allowed her to hold the water glass for him, because his hands shook too much when he made an attempt to drink from it on his own. Only a few gulps later, he turned a light shade of green.

"Can't..." he gulped, and it came right back up.

Beru sighed, feeling helpless, and tucked him back in, after allowing him to rinse out his mouth. After she helped him get comfortable under the blankets again, she kissed the top of his head. He merely murmered something inaudible, turning so his back faced her.

Oh Luke, Beru thought, her eyes filling with tears. Why does this always have to happen to you? She remembered as though it were yesterday, when the Jedi Knight brought baby Luke to their farm. The infant's cries were so quiet, almost squeaky, and Obi-Wan informed them he'd been born with a bit of difficulty. Beru knew she couldn't reject an ill, innocent baby...so the couple agreed to adopt Luke right away, with little hesitation. Owen had been most reluctant at first, seeing how sick the baby was, but eventually gave in and decided it wouldn't hurt to have a boy around.

When he grows up, he'll be able to give me a hand with the crops, he told her, and Beru shook her head. With her husband, it was always work, work work. She knew he cared about Luke deep down, but he was so rough with the boy sometimes, and on occasion he frightened Luke to tears (at least she heard Luke crying softly hidden in his room some nights). As Beru and Owen hoped, Luke did grow stronger through the years. He was a rambunctious child, always getting into mischief. But no matter what, he would always come to his Aunt with a small kiss or hug to prove his affection.

"How is he?" Beru turned to see Owen standing in the doorway, fiddling with a socket wrench in his hands.

"Not much better. He can barely keep water down right now." She sighed. "I think I'm going to have to make some cough medicine, and I think we still have ginger syrup left from last time." Her voice was shaking, but the last thing she wanted to do was to break down sobbing in front of her stoic husband. Owen set the wrench down on Luke's desk, and went over to put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Luke will be fine," he insisted. "He'll get through this."

Beru pursed her lips, nodding. "I was just...remembering when he was about ten," she began, "he was so tired from working, that he fell asleep leaning against me while I was making dinner," she whispered, trying to cheer herself up.

"Trying to say I work him too hard, eh?" Owen asked, helping Beru to her feet, and she shrugged.

"You do, on occasion. Luke's just a boy, Owen."

"He's seventeen years old, and plenty old enough to take on as much as a man can." The two of them walked out of the bedroom, shutting the door only part of the way so they could hear Luke if he called.

"We still have to be more careful with him. He's still so fragile." Beru sighed, leading the way into the kitchen, where she began to rummage around for ingredients to make the cough syrup. Owen scratched his head...Beru wasn't lying when she said the boy was more fragile than most his age, but he had certainly been making improvements. "Could you grind these for me? I have to fetch some clean water." She handed Owen a bowl of mint leaves and a grinder. He nodded, and watched as she went outside.

"Aren't you going to help your friend Biggs with his speeder again this afternoon?"

Camie sat on the front step of her family's hut, gazing a head at the flat desert grounds. The hot sun burned her neck, though she took hardly any notice of it. Her hair occasionally ruffled with a vague breeze, stirring up a few clouds of sand and dust at her feet. She didn't answer her mother, her mind clearly not on the planet. "Camie Benson, are you listening to me?"

Camie blinked, glancing over her shoulder at her mother. "What?" she asked, sighing.

"You've been sitting there for over an hour, dear. You must be thoroughly scorched! You're already getting a bit burnt...come inside this instant."

Camie pushed herself to her feet, stepping into the much cooler hut. "I'm sorry, Mom...I'm just worried about Luke, that's all." She hadn't tried buzzing him at all that morning, wanting to let him rest as much as possible. She flopped down onto one of the soft, bantha skin couches, and propped her now bare feet onto the leather foot rest. Mrs. Benson shook her head softly, coming from the kitchen with a bottle of water. "Take this," she encouraged, and Camie gratefully drank most of it in only a few gulps.

"Thanks," she gasped, once finished. "I sometimes forget just how hot it gets out there."

Mrs. Benson chuckled. "Not the best spot for catching a breath of fresh air. Now, are you planning on going to the shop today, or spending it at home? I could use some of your help in the kitchen preparing the meat your father trapped the other day."

Camie glanced out the window, and shrugged. "I can stay and help you today, Mom. I think the guys will be fine without me for once. Besides, it's not much fun for me if..." she clasped her hand over her mouth, blushing furiously, and her mother gave her an amused grin.

"If Luke isn't there." She finished, and Camie stood up, her eyes wide.

"Mom, Mom, please...don't tell anyone that I kind of...sort of...have a crush on him!"

Mrs. Benson laughed heartily, giving her daughter a hug. "Of course not, dear. It's not unusual to have crushes on boys at your age... goodness, I'd have thought you'd be telling me about this several years ago." She winked, and the two headed off to the kitchen. "I was wondering what happened to the real daughter I gave birth to!" she chuckled, as they went into the storage shed where the food stuffs were kept.

Camie sighed. "Mom," she groaned, thoroughly embarrassed.

"I promise I won't tell him," she insisted, and the two disappeared through the doors.

Back at the garage, Biggs whooped with joy. He'd finally made the finishing touches on the speeder's engine, and called to Deak that he was preparing to turn it on for testing. "Just a minute!" a voice responded from inside the building, but Bigg's couldn't wait any longer. He flipped the tiny silver switch, and the contraption began to roar loudly, stirring up clouds of dust and sand at his feet.

"LIFE!" The mechanic shouted, letting out a burst of almost meniachal laughter. Deak nearly dropped the finished windshield, and stumbled out. He shieleded his eyes from the elements swirling about, and watched with a grin as Biggs danced around his newest accomplishment.

"BIGGS!" Deak shouted over the noise, covering his ears. "BIGGS, TURN IT OFF! I WANT TO ASK YOU SOMETHING!"

"WHAT?" Biggs called, looking up to see Deak's mouth moving, but couldn't hear anything.

"TURN THE DAMN ENGINE OFF!" Deak repeated, finally stomping over to it, and flipping the switch so the noise ceased instantly.

"Sorry," Biggs apologized sheepishly. "Got a bit over-excited."

"I can see that." Deak snorted. "Congratulations, Biggs...at least we know the heart of this baby works."

Biggs nodded. "Yeah. How's the windshield coming?"

"Just about finished shaping it, and we should be able to fit it onto the top base by tonight. But I wanted to ask you something...you know we have those walkie talkies that we can communicate with Camie, right?" he asked, and Biggs nodded, removing his goggles and wiping streaks of dust from his face.

"What about it?" he hoisted the engine into his arms, and carried it inside to avoid any confrontations with Jawas, who were creatures that scrapped any un-touched metallic objects. He sat it down in the corner of the garage with a soft thunk, and sat down at the empty table.

"She hasn't given us an update on Luke, and I was wondering if we should contact her about him."

"Or we could go see Luke ourselves," Biggs shrugged.

Deak looked a little uncomfortable with that prospect. "Shouldn't we find out whether he's contagious or not?"

Biggs thought for a minute. "Good point. Yeah, buzz her, and see if we cant make some kind of a connection. I've been wondering about Luke myself...he seemed pretty bad yesterday." Deak nodded, and hurried over to where they kept the walkie talkie, and began to speak into it. "Camie, do you copy! I repeat, Camie, do you copy!"

Camie was in the kitchen, pounding a piece of raw meat when she heard the faint speech coming from her bedroom. "Mom, I'll be right back," she insisted, quickly washing off her hands in the bowl of water they'd collected. Mrs. Benson nodded, humming as she mixed a special marinade sauce for the night's dinner.

Camie rushed into her room, and found the little buzzer under her pillow. She quickly found the walkie talkie on the window sill, and pushed the black button along the side. "I'm here," she spoke into it. "What's up?"

"Have you checked on Luke yet, today?" Deak's voice came through the speaker, and she frowned.

"No, I haven't, but I figured I'd give him a day or so to just relax before checking up. What's the matter?"

"Biggs and I wanted to take a visit over there, but we weren't sure if it was safe or not...would you come with us if we decided to go?"

Camie peeped through her bedroom door towards the kitchen, and then back in again. "Well, I promised my Mom I'd help her with dinner, but..."

Deak shrugged. "Never mind, we can go with you another time. I'll see you whenever...over and out."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "Over and out." She put the walkie talkie back on the sill, and ran her fingers through her hair, blowing out her breath.

"Is everything all right, dear?" Mrs. Benson asked, and Camie nodded.

"Yeah...it was just Deak." She headed back into the kitchen, and stood staring at her half-way pulverized meat. "Mom, I am really worried about Luke...I thought it would be nice if I made him something? Like, soup or whatever?"

Mrs. Benson smiled, and turned from her work. "That would be a very nice idea. Help yourself to any of the ingredients you can find, dear, and there should be a few good cookbooks in the cabinet over there."

"Thanks." Camie gave her mother a kiss, and began searching for the items she'd need. Glancing at the dimming sky, she added, "I'll bring it to him tomorrow." Mrs. Benson nodded, getting back to the task of that night's supper.

It wasn't until night fell, that Luke finally awoke, and blinked in confusion when he found his room to be completely dark. He coughed, holding onto his chest with one hand. Everything around him spun, causing him to close his eyes. "Aunt Beru?" he croaked, shocked by just how weak his own voice had become, but began coughing again before checking to see if anyone was around.

"Luke? Are you all right?" The door to his room cracked open, and Beru peeped through the door. She was in her nightgown, holding a lantern.

"I just..." Luke felt stupid, but he had to say it. "I just need someone," he told her, and the door opened further. The rest of the hut was dark, so clearly he had woken her. "I'm sorry," he apologized, shivering. "I..." Beru smiled, pulling him into a tight hug.

"It's all right, sweetheart. But you're burning up again."

"I'm freezing," he whispered, wrapping his blankets more tightly around his thin body.

"I know." She felt his cheeks and forehead, brushing his damp bangs away from his eyes. She eased him back against his pillows. "I'll be right back," she added, and he sighed, his teeth chattering as he tried to relax. His head felt so heavy and full of congestion, that it was almost as though he had to lift a rock to move at all.

"HuhKSHHHHH! EkUUUSHHH!" Luke groaned, reaching under his pillow for a fresh handkerchief, and attempted to blow his nose. However, that hardly helped at all, and his head only ached miserably afterwards. "Un." He cleared his throat just as Beru returned, carrying a bowl of water and a fresh rag over the edge. "Eh- ehKSHHHHH!" Luke blinked, his eyes watering.

"Bless you," Beru told him, sitting down beside the bed again. She wet the rag, and began blotting his forehead, causing him to shiver as a few stray droplets ran down his neck. The door creaked, and she glanced over her shoulder.

"Is everything okay in here?" Owen whispered loudly, and she nodded.

"So far." She smiled. "His fever went up again, though."

Owen grumbled something under his breath. "If he doesn't start improving by tomorrow night, I'll have to send for a healer."

Luke instantly sat up, startling his Aunt. "No," he begged. "Uncle Owen, I'm not that sick, I don't need..." but he broke down coughing, and Beru shook her head, rubbing his back.

"Shhhhh," she encouraged. "Luke, Owen's right. You've been sick for several days now...and getting worse." She kissed his cheek as he began coughing again, and ordered Owen to fetch a glass of water when he began wheezing. He felt darkness clouding his vision due to lack of air, but Owen arrived with the water just in time. Beru held the cup to his lips, and Luke sipped from it slowly, the liquid loosening the mucus preventing oxygen.

"Here," Owen announced, handing her a basin, just as Luke gagged and choked another mouthful of a phlegmy substance.

"I'll stay here with him tonight," Beru insisted. "You can go on back to bed."

"Are you sure?" Owen asked, and she nodded.

"I'm sure." He quickly kissed her, and merely looked at Luke, before leaving. When the door shut, Luke broke into tears, clinging to his Aunt. He felt so helpless and weak, so exhausted. She held him tight, humming softly until he calmed down enough to fall asleep.

---

Chapter 4

Camie awoke early the next morning to bring the fresh bowl of soup she'd made the night before to Luke. She wanted to make an easy escape, without her mother and father's reprimands. Camie shuffled about her darkened bedroom, finding her clothes and her boots. After brushing and braiding her hair, she tiptoed out into the narrow corridor, and made her way to the kitchen. The hut was silent, except for the occasional wailing of wind from outside.

She found the soup simmering, and poured a giant bowl-full of it. She could hear her father's grunting snores as she walked into the living room, on her way to the front door. After scribbling a note to let them know of her whereabouts so they didn't panic, Camie snuck out the front door and made her way for her speeder. She set the soup in the back, turning the engine on low after strapping herself in. She put on her goggles to keep the sand out of her eyes, and began the short treck to Luke's family's farm.

Luke, meanwhile, sat coughing in bed, his chest feeling as though it were ripping apart. All night he'd suffered through this, only getting about an hour or so of proper sleep.

Beru opened her eyes from where she lay on the spare cot, and then lifted her head.

"Sweetheart," she whispered, climbing off and sliding into the bed next to him. He leaned againt her, shivering and trying to stay warm. His breathing was so thick with congestion, that he could hardly get a good gulp of air. "Try to cough up as much as you can, Luke." She bent over to pick up the basin from the floor (which had been thoroughly cleaned since the previous night), and held it under his head while she patted his back encouragingly. He instantly began coughing, but was unable to produce any improvements. He stopped when there was a knock on the door, and Beru glanced over her shoulder.

"My goodness, who could that be at this hour of the morning?" she thought out loud, and bundled Luke in his blankets after she slid to the ground. "I'll be right back," she whispered, kissing his forehead, and made her way for the door.

Camie stood on the stoop, holding the bowl in her arms. When the door opened, she stepped back. "Camie, dear! This is certainly a surprise! Come on in," Beru encouraged, stepping aside so the girl could enter.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Lars...I didn't mean to wake you," Camie apologized, blushing. "I'll go if it's too early...I just wanted to stop by and give Luke something before I got too busy." She was blushing furiously, and Beru smiled.

"No, dear, it's no trouble. Luke will be glad to see a friend...he's not doing much better this morning, though, I'm afraid." They both heard coughing in the distance, and Camie frowned.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "Is he..."

Beru smiled at her. "Contagious?" she finished. "We're not sure, but we think he's just coming down with a touch of bronchitis. He'll be in bed for at least a week, I'm thinking at this rate."

Camie nodded. "Oh, here's what I brought...I cooked a pot of soup for him last night, and I thought it might help him feel a little better." She presented the bowl as they entered the kitchen, and accepted a piece of fruit from the bowl in the center of the table. "Sit and eat, and I'll let Luke know you're here."

Camie gasped, after she finished peeling the skin off, and shook her head. "Oh, would it be all right if I surprised him?"

Beru frowned. "I'm not sure...I don't want him to get too over excited."

"True, true..." she smiled. "All right. Thank you," she added, and Beru chuckled.

"Of course, dear. I'll be right back." Beru headed into Luke's bedroom, where he was finishing blowing his nose, and he glanced up when she approached him. "Who was it?" he croaked, his voice barely audible.

"Your friend Camie is here," Beru replied, and Luke's face, if possible, turned even paler than it already was.

"She's...she's here?" he asked. "HuhKESHHHH! Oh I look terrible, Aunt Beru..." he groaned. "I don't want her to see me like this."

Beru gave him a look. "Luke, she traveled here to see you, and I think you should at least let her come in and say hello."

Luke sighed. "All right...I guess." He blew his nose again, and sat up straight against the headboard, trying to look as bright and cheerful as he could. Which, I might add, was a rather vain attempt. Beru called Camie to let her know it was safe to come in, and then left the two alone for a while.

"Hey wormie," Camie greeted teasingly, walking in, and sat down in the chair.

"Hi," Luke croaked, coughing into a fist. "What are you doing up this early?" he sniffled, pulling his blanket closer around him.

"Well, I wanted to see you without the guys flocking all around," she admitted. "Don't I get a chance to talk to you alone, too? Or does Biggs only get that option?" she winked, and Luke managed a grin, reaching over to squeeze her hand comfortingly. Camie tried not to let it show on the surface, but inside she felt a fuzzy tingle at his touch.

"You know that's not true. I just wish we didn't have to have quality time when I'm..." he paused. "HuhESHHHH!" he turned away. "Sick," he finished, and Camie snorted.

"Bless you. Well, you can laugh if you want, Luke, but I actually did something feminine for a change." She winked.

"Really?" Luke asked, pretending to sound shocked.

"Really. I slaved over the stove and made you some soup last night."

Luke nearly spit out the mouthful of water he'd taken from the glass on the windowsill, and stared at her. He could not imagine tough, tomboyish Camie cooking on her own time. Usually she had to be dragged kicking and screaming whenever her mother wanted her home from the garage. Well, that was over exaggerating, but she preferred boys' games and activities.

"Thanks!" she laughed, pretending to wipe some of it off of her tunic, and Luke blushed.

"I didn't actually get you, did I?" he asked, and she winked.

"Nope." She frowned when he started coughing, and cringed. "I shouldn't stay too long...you really do need to get some rest. I promised Biggs and Deak an update on you, though they'll probably kill me for not having invited them along."

Luke nodded. For a moment neither said anything, and Camie finally flung her arms around him in a tight hug. "I'm going to go before my parents wonder about me," she whispered, and he smiled, feeling a tiny bit better.

"Thanks for stopping by," he croaked.

"No problem. I hope you like the soup," she added, and Luke laughed weakly.

"I'm sure it'll be great." He waved as she left, and Beru came to the room just as she was exiting.

"Leaving so soon?" she chuckled, and Camie nodded.

"I don't want my parents to get upset. Thank you for breakfast, Mrs. Lars."

"You're welcome, dear. Thank you for coming."

Luke peered around his Aunt's form, trying to see Camie as she disappeared down the corridor, startling Owen as he came out of the other main bedroom. "Morning?" he announced, blinking.

"Good morning!" Camie chirped, and they heard the front door open and close.

"What was that?" Owen asked, entering the room, and stepping beside Beru, who was checking Luke's temperature.

"Luke's friend stopped by," Beru explained, sighing. "I think you're right, Owen. I think we might need some outside assistance. He's still burning up."

Luke groaned, his teeth chattering, and watched as his relatives discussed the current situation in quiet voices. After a few minutes, Owen nodded. "Right, well, I'll get dressed and head over there." He kissed his wife and left, leaving Luke rather confused.

"Go where?" the boy croaked as his Aunt returned to his side, and she placed another cool compress on his forehead.

"Try and sleep, love," Beru insisted, brushing his bangs away from his eyes.

"I don't need a healer," Luke whispered, sniffling. "If that's where Uncle Owen is going. I'll be fine."

She shook her head, taking his hand. "The medicine I made for you isn't working, sweetheart. We've given you three doses of it already, and the coughing hasn't subsided." She kissed his hot cheek. "The healer should be able to help you feel better. But for now, just relax."

Luke found it was useless to argue the point further, as he already heard the spare speeder moving away from the hut. Owen was on his way to anchorhead, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it. He closed his eyes at last, allowing the haziness of the fever to pull him into a discontented sleep.

---

Chapter 5

When Owen returned with the healer from Anchorhead, nearly an hour had passed. Beru was in the kitchen preparing another pot of tea, as Luke had fallen asleep again. "Good morning," she greeted as Owen introduced her to S'Koln, a leathery green creature with fly- like eyes. He carried a rather heavy-looking case in his webbed hands, and a ventilation droid rolled in after them.

"Good morning," S'Koln replied, bowing formally. "Where is the boy?" he added in his buzz-like tone, and Beru raised her eyes at Owen. Over the years they'd experienced several different healers from Anchorhead, and this one had to be the strangest yet! "I'll take you to him," she insisted. "Owen, could you watch over the tea please?"

S'Koln motioned for the droid to follow them, and they entered the sickroom. "Luke?" Beru gasped, noticing the boy sliding out of bed, preparing to make for the other window in the room. He turned slowly around, his breathing shallow, and his eyes glassy.

"Aun' B'ru?" he whispered, and before she could respond, his eyes rolled back into his head. She dashed across the room and caught him just before he hit the ground, and S'Koln grabbed her before she fell also, and eased them both to the floor. Beru cradled Luke's head in her lap, sobbing softly. "Owen!" she called, and her husband hurried in at her voice. He stood for a moment in shock at the site in front of him, watching his wife rocking slowly.

"I'll get him back into bed," he told her, gently parting his wife from their nephew, lifting Luke into his arms. Beru had her hands over her mouth, trying to stifle her sobs, and lowered them when S'Koln suggested she take a breath of fresh air.

"It will help you, Ma'am," he said, helping Owen tuck Luke under the covers. "The boy was no doubt delirious...his fever is high."

"We shouldn't have let his friend in," Owen told Beru, frowning. "It probably just over-excited him, and made him worse."

Beru closed her eyes. "Well, I couldn't send her away. She didn't stay very long either." He squeezed her arm gently as she bent down to give Luke a soft kiss.

"We won't be much help to S'Koln, so I think we should take his advice and take some air."

S'Koln was already rooting through the case, which contained several bottles. Each bottle was a different color, and had a label on it. Luke whimpered a little as the healer rubbed a bit of a spicey oil onto his chest, and wheezed when he tried to take a breath. Beru allowed Owen to lead her away, her arms wrapped around her body for support.

Luke lay still on the bed, barely moving as S'Koln began to fill a small tube with a dark liquid, inserting a needle into his arm. The healer watched as the fluid began to drip into the boy's body, monitoring it's progress on a miniature computer-like device. After pushing a couple of buttons, S'Koln went over to the ventilation droid, flipping a switch, and lifting the mouth and nose piece. The droid bleeped thoughtfully at him, whistling as he ordered it over to the bedside.

He then smoothed a cool cream onto a rag, draping it gently over Luke's forehead. "You will come to soon," he whispered, and the boy's eyes fluttered under their lids. He only stirred when S'Koln eventually placed the oxygen mask over his mouth, hooking a couple of wires around Luke's head. After a moment or two, he took a seat and began scribbling notes on his chart, listening to the droid's faint bleeping and hiss.

Camie made it to the garage later in the day, after helping her mother with the usual chores. Her parents hadn't been upset with her at all when she mentioned that she'd gone to visit Luke, though they seemed more worried than anything else.

She found Biggs and Deak putting a few finishing touches on the speeder base, which they'd painted a bright red. "Looking good, guys!" she exclaimed, causing them to lift their heads.

"Just in time, Camie. I saved the hatch in the garage for you. It just needs to be measured so the screws can be put in."

She saluted him, but before making her way inside, she wet her lips and turned to face them.

"I um..." she cleared her throat. "I went to visit Luke this morning."

Biggs removed his goggles, hopping to his feet. "You did? How is he?"

"You should have told us you were going!" Deak growled, and Camie shook her head.

"No. I don't think he could have handled more than one visitor at a time, honestly. Even my being there seemed to be straining him."

Biggs frowned. "He still looks terrible, huh?" and Camie nodded sadly. After a moment, Biggs took a deep breath, fiddling with the goggles in his hands. "Actually, I...I want to make a bit of a confession."

Camie and Deak glanced at each other, confused, and then back at their friend. "What is it? You're not in any kind of trouble, are you?" Camie asked, her eyes growing wide.

Biggs shook his head, waving his hand around. "No, no, no, nothing like that. I well...this speeder isn't really for me."

Camie blinked. "Um...." She paused. "

"Well, Luke's been feeling pretty lousy this year, so I decided to make it for him."

Camie gasped, covering her mouth with her hands, and let out a small squeal with delight. Biggs yelped when she practically leapt on him, planting a big kiss on his cheek. Deak snorted, rarely seeing Camie in this state. "Whoa, calm down! It's not really that big of a deal!"

Camie shook her head. "This is amazing, Biggs! Why didn't you tell us sooner...ah, because Luke was always hanging around."

Biggs winked. "Yeah."

"Doesn't he already have a good speeder, though?" Deak asked, blowing on a section of paint so it would dry faster, and it was Biggs' turn to give a snort.

"Good piece of crap," he replied. "The thing was clearly breaking down when I drove him home in it last time. It's had it's fare share, and I definitely think it's about time to give it a fair retirement."

"That's so sweet of you, Biggs. Luke'll be thrilled."

"It's technically from all three of us, considering how much work we've all put into it," Deak pointed out, running his fingers through his blonde hair.

Biggs agreed. "Yeah, you have a point, buddy. Okay, Camie, get to work. We're so close to being done."

Camie nodded, scurrying inside the garage, and soon banging could be heard in the distance.

Luke remained unconscious for several hours, the fever taking its toll. Beru returned to sit beside the bed for most of the night, while S'Koln peeped in to check on the boy's progress. She felt the hairs prick on the back of her neck when he spoke to himself in his own language, his voice coming across as a mix between a slight buzz and a quiet whistle. She held Luke's hand tightly, massaging her nephew's fingers absentmindedly. They were so cold, but the rest of his body was burning.

She smoothed his damp hair, her eyes focusing on the liquid dripping inside the tube connected to his arm. Eventually, S'Koln insisted she go to bed, though it wasn't until nearly an hour after she'd done so, that Luke's eyes fluttered open slowly. He struggled a little under the oxygen mask, his fever-bright eyes widening in terror at first glance of the healer.

"I am no human," S'Koln chuckled. "But I won't harm you, boy. You must save every ounce of strength you have."

Luke coughed, his chest tightening. The oxygen mask helped him to breathe a bit more easily, though it was still an immense difficulty.

"Calmly, lad. Calmly." S'Koln removed the mask for the moment, offering Luke a glass of water.

"Aunt B'ru...Uncle Owen..." Luke croaked, and S'Koln merely smiled.

"They are resting. Your Aunt spent most of the night with you...no doubt she deserves a good few hours of sleep, eh?"

Luke shivered, bundling his feet inside of his blankets. "HuhKESHHH! HehTSHHH!" he sneezed, managing to catch them in his hands.

"Se fani," S'Koln told him, and Luke blinked stupidly.

"What did you just say?" he whispered, realizing he barely had any voice left.

"It is merely a blessing in my language. Here." He offered Luke a fresh handkerchief, which he accepted gratefully.

"What happened to me exactly?" Luke asked, the memories of the previous day fairly fuzzy. Well, fuzzy except for one thing... Camie. The last thing he could remember was Camie's visit; her warm, sweet smile, and her voice.

"You blacked out, mostly due to the fever."

Luke frowned. This wasn't the first time he'd passed out, nor, he supposed, would it be the last either. It was just a never ending series of trouble for him, and just once he wanted to go through an entire year without any type of pain or suffering. Fat chance, he thought, coughing hard into his fist. S'Koln patted his back until he relaxed, and peered at him closely.

"We'll get you back to normal, though, and you'll be good as new."

Luke sniffed, hugging himself. "Good as new," he whispered. "I'll never be good as new."

S'Koln cocked his head. "What kind of talk is that? Of course you'll be just fine."

Luke shook his head. "I keep trying, but I can't..."

"Uh uh." S'Koln shook his webbed finger in a scolding gesture. "No saying "can't." I hardly believe you are one who is destined to fail. No, no, not you. There is a special strength I can sense deep inside of you, but you're just not trusting it enough."

Luke frowned, not quite sure what to make of this statement. He was about to respond when he heard the door open, and Beru stood facing him. "Oh my darling, you're awake!" she cried, dashing over and wrapping her arms around him. Luke buried his face against her shoulder, feeling calmness wash over him. She kissed him all over his cheeks and forehead, being mindful of the needle in his arm. "Thank the stars you're all right!" she turned to S'Koln, her eyes brimming with tears.

"He came through just as I said, Ma'am." S'Koln told her with a nod. "Though he still has a good while to go before he's fully recovered."

"Aunt B'ru, I'm freezing," Luke told her, his teeth chattering.

"You're burning up, Luke. Until your fever goes down a bit more, we can't afford to give you another blanket."

"Though a moisture bath might do a few wonders," S'Koln pondered out loud.

"Camie," Luke croaked, lying back down, and Beru smoothed his forehead.

"Shhhhhh. Just try to rest, love." She turned to S'Koln. "Yes, a moisture bath would probably work well. I'll go and make one up for him, if that's the decision."

S'Koln nodded, but Luke whimpered as his Aunt stood up. "I won't be long, love," she insisted, kissing him and pulling the blankets a bit more tightly around his trembling body. He coughed, sniffling, and Beru smoothed his bangs away from his eyes. He sighed softly as she walked off, and then tried to make himself comfortable again.

Beru, once she made it to the moisture showers, began to cry softly. She turned on the power, waiting for the sprinklers to work, and leaned against the stone wall to keep herself from fainting with exhaustion. "He's suffered enough," she whispered, hearing more coughing in the distance.

"I can't breathe," Luke gasped, as S'Koln patted his back. He instantly covered Luke's mouth with the oxygen mask, turning on the droid to full power. The boy's gasps came in weak squeaks, and sweat poured down his face.

"Calm down, now," S'Koln soothed. "Calm down, now."

Luke's eyes were filling with tears, but his chest did feel considerably looser since the oxygen had been turned on. When Beru returned after the moisture bath was ready, S'Koln asked her to follow him into the hallway. "Find your husband, for we have much to talk about." He told her in a quiet voice, and Beru felt sick to her stomach. She hurried off to find Owen, who was busy with the farm's daily tasks.

"The healer wants to speak to both of us," she whispered, and he stopped racking the plot of land he stood over.

"What's the matter?" he asked, and she shook her head. "No, Beru, don't think like that. I don't want you loosing your head over this, you hear me?" he took her shoulders and gave her a small shake. She nodded, lowering her head. "Come on, let's go and talk to the healer." He set his rake aside, taking his wife's arm, and brought her back into the house.

S'Koln was waiting patiently for them in the parlour, and stood as soon as the adults entered. "No, please, sit down," Owen insisted, and the healer did as he was told.

"Thank you," he replied.

"So my wife says you wish to speak with both of us?"

S'Koln turned towards the sick room, and then back to them. "He is getting much worse," he explained. "He had quite a bit of difficulty breathing before you came in, Mrs. .Lars. If you will allow me, the last resort I have is to place tubes inside of him to drain the fluid from his lungs. I was hoping the medicine I brought along would provide some improvement, but I am not liking what I am seeing."

Owen sat rigid in his seat, and Beru clung to him, fighting the tears that wanted to spring from her eyes again. "Insert them? How?" Owen croaked, remaining as stoic as possible.

"I will have to put the boy under a general anesthetic and ease them through his throat. The oxygen mask has been somewhat of a help, but not by very much."

"How long will the tubes have to stay in?"

"I would wager at least two days," S'Koln replied, and at that, Beru stood.

"I can't," she sobbed. "Owen, I--I'm trying, but I can't..." she dashed out of the room, and both he and the healer listened as the door to the hut opened and closed.

"She is having a lot of difficulty with this situation," Owen sighed, and S'Koln nodded, frowning.

"I understand. It is very frightening. Bronchitis is not usually so serious of an illness--well, it is, but it is more of an annoyance. Your son..."

"Nephew," Owen corrected.

"Your nephew seems to be reacting to the infection more strongly than others. I am not fearing that he will die, but we will need to do a bit more work to help him recover. So if you will allow me to perform this small operation, I think we can raise our hopes."

The room was quiet for a few moments, and Owen gave a nod. "Yes. Anything to help our boy."

S'Koln smiled. "How many times has the boy been ill?"

Owen sighed. "At least eight times since he was brought to us."

"Eight?" S'Koln blinked in surprise. "When did it begin?"

"Well, serious illnesses he's had started around age five. He had minor things as a baby, but he was born the wrong way."

"The wrong way?" S'Koln blinked, not understanding. "Ah, I understand. He came out feet first?"

"As we were told. And supposedly the atmosphere he was born in weakened him a lot."

"Such a shame. He's such a good boy." S'Koln glanced to the window. "Well, perhaps you should see to your wife? I will prepare Master Luke for the surgery."

Owen nodded, standing. He watched as the healer scuttled back to Luke's room, before walking into the kitchen. He peered through the window, watching for Beru, but didn't see her. `She's probably in the garage,' he thought, which was where she often went to be alone when upset. He opened the door to the hut and walked across the open area, passing two droids who were busy soaking moisture from the reddish sand.

"Beru?" he called, pausing at the door of the shed.

"I'm here," Beru's soft voice answered him, and he pushed the door open a crack.

"Are you all right?" he asked, and saw her sitting by the oil bath tank, her knees drawn up to her chest.

"I'm loosing my mind, Owen." She gasped as he sat down next to her, moving a toolbox aside so he had some room. "I don't know if I can stand much more of this. I want Luke. I want our Luke to come back."

Owen held her close, and sighed. "He'll come back, Beru. I know you're worried, but the healer has everything under control."

Beru gulped. "You allowed him to put the tubes in?"

Owen nodded. "He's not responding well to the medicine."

Beru closed her eyes. "I'm just so tired, Owen."

Owen gave her a hand as she struggled to stand, and let her lean against him. "You need a good rest," he insisted. "I'll bring you right to bed." He brought her back inside.

---

Chapter 6

"It's finished." Biggs sighed a few days later, gazing fondly at his creation. The brand new speeder sat in front of the garage, shimmering in the early morning sunlight.

Deak grinned, stroking the freshly painted vehicle, and folded his arms. "He's really going to like this, Biggs. I'm impressed, honestly."

They both looked up to see Camie coming towards them in her family's spare speeder, her black hair blowing in the wind. She pulled to a stop a few feet away, and turned the engine off. When she hopped down, the other two noticed how pale her face was, and the tearstreaks on her cheeks. She wiped them quickly after removing her goggles, and disappeared into the garage before either of the boys could ask her what happened.

"Oh no," Deak mumbled, and Biggs rubbed his chin, a funny feeling creeping into his stomach.

"Camie?" he dashed inside after his friend. She was sitting at one of the work benches, her head buried in her arms. Camie rarely cried, so the sight of her sitting alone with her shoulders trembling was a little shocking. "You just went to see Luke, didn't you?" he asked, pulling a seat beside her.

"I shouldn't have gone before," she choked, refusing to lift her head from her arms. She was embarrassed about crying in front of Biggs as it was. "I've only made things worse."

Biggs put a hand on her shoulder, and glanced over his shoulder. Deak stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame and wearing a frown. "What do you mean, made things worse?"

Camie lifted her head. "You should have seen him, Biggs..." she sobbed, allowing her friend to pull her into his arms. "You should have seen..." she took a deep breath, before collapsing against him. "Oh Biggs, he's hooked up to tubes and everything! His Uncle almost refused to let me come and see him, but his Aunt insisted I be allowed. His breathing sounded really faint, and I think he might be..."

"Luke?" Deak snorted. "Dying? I highly doubt it. He's the type you could throw off a cliff and he'd come right back without a scratch."

"So it's that bad? Geeze, it just seemed like he had a cold a few days ago."

"Well, supposedly he'd been pretty sick for the past week, and wasn't taking enough care of himself." Camie sighed, hiccoughing a bit. "Oh, I feel like an idiot." She managed a small laugh. "Look at me, sitting here crying like a big baby."

Biggs chuckled. "It's not a crime to cry a little, Cam. How long do they think the tubes will need to stay in?"

She shrugged. "The healer was saying he was hoping Luke's lungs would clear up in about two days. He's been taking sleeping pills, because when he's awake, he struggles with the tubes. They're basically shoved down through his throat, so I can only imagine how scared he is when he wakes up and tries to swallow." She wet her lips.

"Are they allowing any other visitors?" Deak asked, and Camie looked at him.

"Actually, Mrs. Lars suggested we come and sit by the bed for a few hours a day, and maybe our being there might help."

Biggs grinned. "Sounds like a plan. We'll fly the new speeder over and have it sitting outside for when he's recovered, and we'll be able to bring him out to it together."

Camie smiled. "I can't believe it's done," she sighed. "That took us at least two months!"

"A month and three days," Deak corrected. "I've been keeping track." He winked, going to the liquid dispenser, and poured each of them a glass of juice. Camie and Biggs accepted theirs gratefully, and chugged it down. "So was Luke awake at all when you were there?"

Camie shook his head. "No, he was asleep the whole time. He might be asleep the whole time we're there, too, or he won't know us when he is awake." She sighed. "I wish he'd get better." She slid off of Biggs' lap, thanking him for supporting her, and pulled her hair back, tying it with a spare ribbon.

"Well, let's head on over. Camie, would you do the honor of testing the new speeder?"

"Ha!" she scoffed. "And risk killing myself in it? If anything, I'll ride with you, Biggs. I guess Deak can take my speeder, because it fits three people. Yours only fits two, unless you want me riding on the back of it when we're heading home."

"Or Mr. Lars can give you a ride back," Biggs suggested, and she gave him a murderous look. "Okay, okay! We'll take your speeder. If that look wasn't the kiss of death itself."

Camie rolled her eyes. "Well, come on," she insisted, and the trio set for the Lars' homestead.

Owen stood in the sick room, looking out the window, while Beru sat beside Luke's bed. "I still don't think having his friends here is such a good idea," Owen grunted.

"Oh I do. He needs some new company, Owen." Beru bent over and kissed Luke's burning forehead, frowning slightly as he stirred. "Fresh company. I think the energy his friends give off will do him a great deal of good."

Owen snorted. "And you think we're just two old bats?" he teased, and walked over to his wife, shaking his head.

"We don't have any way to hide it anymore," Beru chuckled. S'Koln sat in the corner of the room, watching his patient closely. Luke's progress was not quite what he'd hoped it to be at this point, but he hadn't given up hope yet. She strained her hearing, and nodded. "They're here," she announced, and Owen raised his eyes.

"I'll go and let them in," she smiled, sensing his discomfort, and allowed him to sit down beside Luke for the time being. She swept through the door, hurrying to answer the knocks.

Camie turned to Biggs and Deak, rocking back and forth on her heels nervously. When the front door opened, all three teenagers turned. "Good morning," Beru greeted.

"Mrs. Lars? We um...we wanted to show you something. We made a present for Luke, but it's too big to bring to his room," Camie began, and Beru's eyes widened in surprise.

"That was sweet of you," she breathed, but when they showed her the new speeder, she nearly fainted in surprise. "You made this?" she gasped, walking around it in a circle, as though trying to prove to herself that it was real. Biggs nodded.

"We thought he was in need of a new one, Ma'am. If you don't mind my saying so, that is."

"What the..."

Everyone jumped at Owen's sudden voice, and watched as he came towards them.

"They've made this for him," Beru explained, and Owen shook his head.

"That's really something. You kids are really something," he motioned to the door. "Well, go on inside. He won't be riding it for some time, though."

Camie nodded. "We understand." She led the boys into the parlour, and Beru got them glasses of milk and a piece of fruit each.

"It may be a bit difficult to take in at first when you see him," Beru told Biggs and Deak. Camie didn't need to be told, as she'd already experienced it.

"Im sure I've seen worse," Biggs murmered, but the two boys stood staring once they entered Luke's room. Camie For a few moments, everyone stood in silence.

"Wow." Biggs breathed, not having quite believed it when Camie told him how terrible Luke looked.

"Good day," S'Koln suddenly spoke, and everyone stared at him.

"Hello," Deak waved, trying hard not to laugh at the strange creature with webbed hands and feet.

"You must be his friends?"

"Yes," Camie replied.

"Good. Sit, sit. You will be of great help."

Extra chairs were brought in, and Beru allowed the teens some time alone with Luke. Camie reached over and took Luke's hand, rubbing it a little because it was so cold. Biggs and Deak watched her with amusement, but didn't say anything. The three of them rarely saw their friend so out of it, and it broke their hearts.

"We're here for you, buddy," Biggs spoke up, patting Luke's shoulder. "You'll get through this."

Luke made no motion that he heard his friend, and Camie felt tears welling in her eyes. "Luke," she whispered, reaching up to smoothe his forehead. "Camie's here."

Beru peeped through the door at that moment, and felt cold all over, seeing her nephew so still. It was frightening how ill the boy could get, but it always amazed everyone at how suddenly he would bounce back.

For hours on end, the three teens sat beside Luuke, talking to him and trying to make jokes. S'Koln eventually pulled Beru and Owen back into the hallway, and touched both of their arms.

"I am going to remove the tubes, and if he does not come to by tomorrow morning, well..."

Beru hugged Owen tightly, feeling as though she might faint.

"Thank you for your time, though," Owen muttered, and S'Koln managed a clearly exhausted smile.

"I haven't lost all hope yet, and neither should you."

Beru was finding it very difficult to comply, but for Luke's sake, she couldn't deny it existed. With that, S'Koln ordered Camie, Deak and Biggs out of the room so he could do his work.

"Is Luke really dying?" Camie asked, once the group sat at the kitchen table.

"No of course not," Beru insisted, reaching over to pat the girl's hand comfortingly. "He's just going through a bit of a rough patch, but he'll..." she caught Owen looking at her with a smirk on his face, and she glared at him. "Be just fine," she added, through gritted teeth.

Owen eventually finished his glass of blue milk, and, with a rap of his fingers against the table, stood up. "I well...I'll be back in a bit. I have to...go." He hurried away, escaping outside. He stood facing the garage door for a moment or two, before deciding to actually walk in. It was so quiet, empty of the sounds of his nephew's banging or tweaking of some machine or other. Or, as much as he hated to admit it, Luke's pouting and grumbling of boredom, or faraway imaginative thoughts.

The bot Luke was working on the previous week sat in the corner, and the tool chest lay beside it, with a few items strewn on the dusty ground.

"Uncle Owen?" Luke asked one afternoon, as the two monitored the droid's as they sucked up what little moisture from the ground that they could find. "Do you ever imagine what it would be like if we could live anywhere but Tatooine?"

"No," Owen replied gruffly, giving one of the lazy droids a tap with the toe of his boot.

"Haven' t you ever imagined yourself to be anything other than a moisture farmer?"

"No."

"That's a shame," Luke replied, frowning. "Aunt Beru told me about my mother's birth place," he added, and Owen nearly dropped the chart he'd been carrying on his foot. "When my mother came to visit Tatooine, she told Aunt Beru she lived on Naboo. It's a really beautiful place, with rolling hills and waterfalls. I should love to see a waterfall one day. Or even a blade of green grass..."

Owen growled under his breath. "If you want to get dinner tonight, then you'd better concentrate on getting your chores done rather than that nonsense."

Luke gulped, holding his toolchest to his stomach, and lowered his head sadly. "Yes, Uncle Owen."

Owen sighed, blinking a tear away, and bent over to pick up the small wrench. How could he have been so deaf and blinde not to hear his nephew's continuous coughing and sluggish movements for the past two weeks?

"Come back to us, Luke. We need you more than you could ever know," he whispered.

---

Chapter 7

"I saw his eyes move!"

It was Camie's excited outcry that woke Deak and Biggs from their not-so-restful sleep. Beru set up a sort of camp on the floor of Luke's room, including two large blankets and several pillows. Biggs groaned at the creak in his neck as he struggled to sit up, and found Camie sitting in her nightgown by Luke's bed. Her dark hair was slightly tosseled, but she seemed awfully perky.

"Wha?" Deak snorted as Biggs nudged the lump beside him, and soon, the small group stood peering over Luke's still form. "How'd you know if you were sleepin'?"

Camie shrugged. "I heard something, so I woke up, and then I saw that his eyes were moving under their lids when I touched his hand. There...it happened again, look!" she pointed, and Biggs peered closely. It was true...the color was slowly returning to Luke's cheeks.

"Come on buddy," he encouraged, touching Luke's shoulder, and backed up when Luke moved about in the bed, wetting his chapped lips. Eventually, his blue eyes fluttered open slowly, but for the first few moments, the world around him was in a blurr.

"It's about time!" Deak exclaimed, and Camie squeezed Luke's hand.

"We were getting really worried, wormie," she added, and kissed his cheek.

Luke moaned softly, turning towards the voices, and saw his three friends sitting beside him. They were all in pajamas, appearing as though they had just woken up. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice still hoarse, and causing him to cough. Camie reached for the glass of water on the windowsill, and eased Luke into a sitting position. After helping him take a few small sips, she set the glass back down again.

"Biggs, would you go and wake up his Aunt and Uncle? I'm sure they'll want to know about this," she ordered, and Biggs dashed out of the room.

"You really scared the crap out of us, kid," Deak snorted. "You do that again, and I'll sock you one."

Camie gave him an annoyed look, just as Beru hurried in. "Oh Luke." She flew over to the bed, feeling his forehead and cheeks. "The fever's broken." She pulled Luke into a hug, kissing his hair.

"Aun' Beru," Luke whined, thoroughly embarrassed to be showered with affection by his Aunt in front of his friends.

"S'Koln's taking a nap in the parlor. I'll go and fetch him," she whispered, giving him another kiss. When she left, Luke suddenly gasped and snapped forward.

"HuhKESHHHH! EhCHSHHH!" he groaned, flopping back against his pillows.

Camie grinned. "And to answer your question about why we're here, we're here because we're your friends. Luke managed a weak smile.

"Th...thanks...huhKESHHHH! Ow." He massaged his still-sore throat, and reached for the water glass again. However, his hands were still trembling, so Camie had to give him a bit more help with sipping from it.

"So how do you feel, hot shot?" Biggs asked, ruffling Luke's hair, and receiving a small snarl of protest.

"Really tired," he muttered. "You guys really didn't have to stay all night with me."

Camie shrugged. "Your Aunt thought it would do some good to have us around, and it seems to have been helpful. And don't worry, Luke...our families know. They're really worried about you, too."

S'Koln eventually entered, carrying his sack of supplies. "I think we've found a soft spot in your Uncle," he teased, winking, and Luke cocked his head to one side. "He had to excuse himself to go outside again."

"He's crying?" Luke asked, stunned. He had never seen Owen cry, through all the years he'd been living under the Lars' roof. S'Koln shrugged, taking out a stethoscope so he could listen to Luke's breathing.

"Your Aunt went to go and make sure he was all right."

Luke gasped as the metal end was placed against his bare chest, and he glanced out of the corner of his eye as his friends began to gather their clothes.

"You're leaving?" he asked, and Biggs shook his head.

"Not yet, kid. Just getting changed. We'll be right back." He shuffled Camie and Deak through the door. S'Koln smiled after them, before instructing Luke to breathe in and out several times.

"You do sound better. A little big congested still, but the worst of it's gone. A few more doses of the syrup should fix everything. The only part that was worrying me more than anything else was your fever."

Luke nodded in understanding, and sniffled. "I feel like I slept for a year," he grumbled, and S'Koln pulled out the syrup bottle, preparing to give Luke a spoonful.

"You probably do. The anesthetic I gave you when the tubes were in knocked you out for quite some time."

Luke stared. "Tubes?"

"You had tubes in your lungs to try and drain some of the fluid from them," S'Koln explained. "It was the last resort I had. Your Aunt and Uncle gave me permission to put you under a general anesthetic, which would keep you sedated enough until the bulk of the work was done."

Luke couldn't believe it. He vaguely remembered feeling something strange in his mouth, but he had difficulty figuring out what it could possibly be. He accepted the medicine a few moments later, nearly gagging on the bitter taste, but forcing it down anyway.

"You have good friends, Luke," S'Koln spoke again, once his equipment was back in the satchel. "They came yesterday afternoon. I've never seen such a thoughtful group of young'uns anywhere else on Tatooine."

Luke beamed...he loved when elders praised his friends. It wasn't something that happened often, because he knew his group could be somewhat reckless. Especially when he was apart of it. But no matter how much they teased him, it really was good to know that they were willing to stand by his side during difficult times.

A couple of hours later, after breakfast and after his friends sat with him for a while, the trio couldn't take the suspense any longer.

"Is Luke able to take a short walk outside yet?" Camie asked hopefully. "There's something we really want him to see."

S'Koln hesitated. "He just woke up today," he began. "I suppose he may be carried, but I wouldn't recommend him walking just yet."

Luke smiled. "I think I can try it," he agreed, nodding, and Camie grinned. "Your Aunt said if you felt up to it you could, and as long as you had support, and came right back in."

"What's this about, anyway?" Luke asked, taking Biggs' and Deak's arms when they entered, and very slowly stood upright. He felt horribly dizzy, swaying a bit, but he managed to steady himself again. Beru and Owen soon entered the room, each preparing to catch him if he fell.

"Oh Luke," Beru breathed. "Camie, dear, I hope this is a good idea."

"We can't wait any longer," she laughed, as they began making their way into the hall.

"I suppose some fresh air would do him good for a short time," S'Koln sighed, walking close behind his patient.

Luke was more confused than ever at this point, and it took him a good while to reach the front door with his small steps. Beru and Owen took Biggs and Deak's place after they stood on the stoop, and Camie faced them. "We're going to be right back," she insisted, and Luke nodded, resting his head against his Aunt's shoulder. The walking he did exhausted him, but he had to admit, he was grateful for the fresh air, no matter how hot and dry.

"Here, let's sit down," Beru insisted, and the adults eased him onto the front step.

"HuhCHSHHHH! EhCHHHH!" Luke sneezed as a few clouds of dust swirled around him, and he coughed.

"Bless you," they told him in unison, and Luke suddenly heard a vibrating noise in the distance. A vibration that reminded him very much of an engine.

"What is that?" he asked, and Beru smoothed the back of his head.

Luke glanced up just as Biggs steered the brand new speeder around the side of the hut, and he gasped. "It's done!" he exclaimed, grasping onto his Aunt and Uncle's hands again, hoisting himself to his feet. Deak and Camie sat in the back clutching onto their hats as the engine stirred up quite a bit of wind. Biggs eventually turned it off, and patted the side of the vehicle.

"It's yours," he added, and Luke blinked.

"What?" he asked, stunned. "What do you mean, it's mine?"

Camie climbed down from the speeder, running over to face him. "We were making it for you, Luke. It was a surprise."

Luke didn't know what to say. He held onto his Aunt and Uncle as they brought him over to it, and he very gently smoothed his hand over the fresh paint. It was almost unreal! Luke stared at the group standing in front of him, and immediately went to wrap his arms around Biggs, not sure what to say.

"Don't get all sloppy on me, hot shot." Biggs teased, patting Luke's back comfortingly.

"This was so...incredible of you guys! No wonder you wanted me to go home so badly that one day." He winked, and Camie hugged him next.

"You know perfectly well that's not the reason, Luke. You did have a bad cold, and look what happened because you didn't take care of yourself." She gave him another hug, and pecked a kiss on his cheek. Luke blushed furiously, his heart racing.

"All right, let's get back inside," Owen announced. "Luke, you can lay down in the living room. I have to take S'Koln back to Anchorhead, and the rest of you had best get back to your families before they start thinking we've kidnapped you."

Deak glanced at Biggs, who nodded. "Yeah, probably best. So, what do you think, Luke? You satisfied with this?"

Luke grinned. "Satisfied isn't even the word for it! I'm... honored, I should say. Thank you, Biggs."

Biggs saluted him. "No problem...you deserve it."

"We'll see you later, Luke," Deak called, and the trio thanked the Lars' for their hospitality.

"I'll be back over to the garage again soon," Luke promised, though with how exhausted he felt at the moment, he knew it wouldnt be within that week. The three friends waved as they made their way for their speeders, and Beru placed her hands on Luke's shoulders as they zoomed away into the distance.

"Let's get you inside, love," she whispered into his ear, and put an am around him. He nodded, coughing a little, and followed her into the shade of the hut. She made him comfortable on the couch, brushing his bangs away from his forehead.

"May I get you anything?" she asked, half-listening as Owen spoke with S'Koln in the kitchen. He nodded, bundling more deeply into his blankets.

"Could I have a cup of water, Aunt Beru?" he asked, and she nodded, giving him another kiss.

"Of course. I'll be right back." She passed S'Koln as he approached Luke, and peered at the boy through his fly-like eyes.

"Are you leaving?" Luke asked, shivering a little, and S'Koln nodded.

"I am in deed. But, I wanted to tell you, boy, that you were one of the best patients I've worked with in all of the years I've been in this profession. I really do hope we meet again soon, though... of course I hope to meet in different circumstances. Perhaps when you're old enough, you'll come and have a drink with me in the Cantina, eh?" he winked, and Luke grinned.

"Maybe," he whispered, and S'Koln squeezed his shoulder.

"Just worry about recovering now. I hope I wont have to make another visit anytime soon." He smiled, and Luke nodded.

"I hope not either." He watched as Owen came into the living room, and approached the healer.

"I am ready, sir," S'Koln hissed in his strange voice.

"Thank you," Luke croaked, and S'Koln nodded, following Owen through the front door.

When they were gone, Beru returned to the parlor with the glass of water Luke wanted, and handed it to him. She sat down on one of the smaller chairs, watching as he gulped it down. "I really am thirsty," he told her, finishing the last drop. "My throat still hurts a little."

She smiled. "It probably will for a bit, Luke. I don't think you'll be working at all this week."

Luke nodded...the idea of not having to deal with the daily droid duty was quite pleasant, but he preferred to be out doing other things other than staying in bed the whole time. "Of course you won't have to stay in bed all week," Beru explained, sensing that he was about to start complaining. "But I would prefer it if you stayed around here, preferably indoors."

Luke sighed. "Yes, Aunt Beru," he muttered, setting the glass on the ground.

She took his hand. "I must say, love, that I was very impressed by the support your friends gave you. I know you often came home after outings with them, saying how left out you felt, but a true friendship is one that comes through during hard times."

Luke nodded. "I knew they loved me more than that, but sometimes I guess I can be kind of obnoxious," he admitted sheepishly. "I talk too much."

Beru chuckled. "You know I never mind that at all, love. But all of us have different expecations of each other, and can't always reach what we'd like to." She gave him a small kiss.

Luke yawned at that moment, and buried down into the blanket. "I'm going to take a nap I think," he whispered, and she brushed his bangs away from his eyes.

"I'll be in the kitchen if you need me," she replied, slipping away.

---

Chapter 8

Over the next week or so, Luke spent most of his time in the hut. Beru took this liberty to teach him to cook, something she thought every well-bred man should be familiar with.

Owen smirked as he entered the kitchen one night, finding his wife demonstrating how to use the vegetable processor. Luke was very carefully easing the food in, and occasionally pressing certain buttons. "I never thought I'd see the day," Owen teased, and Luke stuck out his tongue playfully. Owen pretended to be insulted, and gave his newphew a playful slap across the head.

"Now stop that," Beru warned. "Owen, there is nothing wrong with a man learning to cook. In fact, I think it would benefit you to join us on occasion."

Owen snorted. "Not on your life," he responded bluntly. "I have more than enough to do outside." He didn't need to say it, but Luke knew what his Uncle was thinking `And even moreso without Luke to help me.' After Owen left the kitchen to go back out onto the farmland, Luke suddenly paused in the task he'd been working on. Beru watched as his face crinkled, and shook her head with a small smile.

"Bless you in advance, love," she told him, stepping back to give him a bit of space.

"HuhKESHHHH! HuhESHHHH! Thanks," he croaked, shaking his head to clear it. "I still don't feel that great," he admitted. "Not as bad as I did before, but I'm still pretty clogged."

Beru felt his forehead just to be safe, and sighed with relief when she found his temperature to be normal still. "And S'Koln said you would be for a little while. I'm just relieved not to hear you coughing all night long."

Luke nodded in agreement, as he poured the vegetables into a large bowl. "Just sneezing instead," he laughed, accepting a kiss on the cheek.

"I love you," Beru whispered, and he felt his heart melting. Luke gave his Aunt a tight hug, slightly amused that he towered over her now. He'd been quite tiny for most of his childhood, but shot up like a weed over the past three years or so.

"I love you, too," he replied. "I wish Uncle Owen would open up a little, though." He cleared his throat, taking a sip from the glass of juice he'd poured earlier.

"He loves you, Luke" Beru promised. "But your Uncle is in a difficult position. He is running this farm, which as you know...is quite a bit of work, enough to make anyone occasionally grouchy."

Luke grinned. "Occasionally grouchy?" he teased, wiping his hands on his shirt. "Aunt Beru, is it true that Uncle Owen was crying when I woke up the first time after having the tubes out?"

Beru was quiet for a moment, wondering how Luke knew about it. Then again, the healer probably couldn't contain himself, so he no doubt let it slip. "Well, he did shed a few tears, Luke. Both of us did. We were so scared you weren't going to wake up..." she embraced him again, and Luke lay his cheek on her shoulder, allowing her to just hold him for a few moments.

"I'm fine, Aunt Beru," he insisted, and she nodded.

"I know. I know you are, but I'm still worried, love. You pick up the tiniest things out here."

"No wonder you and Uncle Owen hardly ever have company," Luke joked, and suddenly felt the urge to sneeze again. "S...sorry," he whispered, and turned away. "HuhESHHHH! EhKESHHHH! HuhMMPSHHH!" he groaned, sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs.

"Bless you!" Beru exclaimed, fishing a handkerchief from the pocket of her dress. She handed it to him, and pointed towards the living room. "You should go and rest, Luke. Either in the parlor or in bed...you look exhausted."

Luke nodded, sighing. "HuhKESHHHH! Stars!" he cursed. "Yes, I think I am going to lay down for a while."

She gave him a small kiss on the forehead. "If you're still sleeping by the time I'm done with dinner, I'll come and wake you."

Luke shrugged. "Not really that hungry," he sighed, and Beru frowned.

"Well, if you aren't hungry still by then, I'll just heat your meal up in case you feel better later. All right?"

Luke nodded, shuffling out of the room. When he reached his bedroom, he could hear the familiar buzzing noise from under his pillow. Sniffling, he sat down on the edge of the mattress, and attempted to decode the series of sounds. He smiled to himself when he realized Camie was asking him how he was feeling, and that she, Biggs and Deak wanted to come by for a visit the next day if it were all right with him.

Luke gave a thoughtful sigh, gazing through his window, and hit the button a couple of times to respond to her. After the short conversation ended, Luke curled up beneath his blankets, and closed his eyes.

As promised, Beru peeped in on her sleeping nephew once dinner was ready, and she couldn't help but just stand and gaze over his huddled figure for a few minutes. He looked so peaceful when asleep, that she almost hated the thought of waking him.

She eventually felt a hand on her shoulder, and gazed over it. Owen stood beside her, watching Luke as well. "You should probably let him sleep," he suggested. "He hasn't had a proper amount since he got sick."

Beru sighed, hugging herself. "You know...when Obi-Wan brought Luke to us the first night, I couldn't help but think to myself `What have we gotten ourselves into?' Sounds very shocking coming from me Owen, I know, but I was so scared. I was so scared about the possibility of loosing him...we've come so close several times since then."

Owen nodded. "We were young and very inexperienced with children," he replied softly.

Luke let out a soft noise from his bed, and both aduls glanced up anxiously at their nephew. He turned towards them, having heard their voices, and opened his eyes softly. "We didn't mean to wake you, love," Beru told him apologetically, and Luke shook his head yawning.

"It's okay." He blinked sleepily, and watched as his Aunt and Uncle crossed the room, smiling as they sat on either side of him. Beru pulled him into a hug, allowing him to lay across her lap. Owen couldn't help but feel his heart melt as he watched his wife stroking their nephew's hair, and he pulled a spare blanket over Luke.

"I'll go and heat the meals up again," he announced, and Luke reached out to his Uncle.

"You don't have to leave, Uncle Owen. I like having both of you here."

Owen, surprised by this sudden remark, sat back down again. "You just want us to sit with you?" he asked, for it wasn't something a teenage boy usually said. If anything, teenagers preferred to be left to their own devices, but Luke was no doubt different in that sense.

"We love you so much, Luke," Beru whispered. "You'll always be our little boy."

He closed his eyes again, snuggling more closely against her, and the small smile remained on his lips. "That means more to me than anything," he replied, and sighed in content.

---

About a week or so later...

"Come on, hot shot, are you coming or aren't you?" Biggs called, and Luke hopped into the new speeder. He felt like new again, and invited his group of friends for a race across the dessert. Or, at least a fair distance across it. Beru stood on the doorstep of the hut, shaking her head as the four teenagers gunned their engines, and shouted,

"Be careful!"

Luke glanced over his shoulder, nodding, and waved. "Ready?" he called, and Camie grinned at him, her dark hair pulled into a single ponytail with a black ribbon. Deak looked at her, and gave her the thumbs up sign.

"Ready, Luke!" she called, and narrowed her eyes, lowering her goggles to avoid dust and sand irritating them.

"On your mark!" he shouted, and the racers prepared themselves. "Get set!"

Biggs raised his arm and lowered it quickly. "Go!" he finished, and the four speeders zoomed off, kicking up clouds of dust as they went. When the sounds of the speeder's engines died down, Beru made her way back into the hut. She walked slowly towards Luke's bedroom, and again, stood in the doorway, facing the bed.

Her mind drifted through the years, and she found herself smiling broadly. So many memories, each more wonderful than the next. Luke sitting on the floor playing with his toys, his mop of blonde hair flopping every which way when he would become very involved with a game. Luke playing outdoors in the sand craters, building "cities", and giggling with mischief as his Aunt and Uncle eventually found him. His first day of school at the imperial academy, and how scared the child looked according to Owen when he was left alone.

Though Luke was not technically their son, Beru never thought less of him. She loved him truly and deeply, grateful to Obi- Wan for choosing them to care for him. Sighing softly, Beru entered the bedroom, and, catching her eye was a small, soft object sitting on the far windowsill by the closet. She cocked her head to one side, and moved closer...it turned out to be the stuffed Bantha Luke loved so much as a child. Though quite ruffled by age, it stood on all fours, it's fur occasionally ruffling in the warm afternoon breeze.

She picked it up and hugged it close, sitting on the edge of Luke's bed. "Oh Luke," she breathed. "You are growing so fast. Too fast for me." But when she set the stuffed bantha back on the windowsill and made her way back into the kitchen, she found herself cheering up quite a bit.

"But you will always be my little one in my heart," she whispered, turning her attention to her chores.

**The End**

---

This is a prequel to the story "Another thing Needful". I would really appreciate feedback! Thanks! And yes, this is actually based off of the Backstreet Boy's song "More than That" from their Black and Blue album. :-D Funny what will inspire you, eh?