sitting on an overpass, screaming at the cars // chapter 1

“The whole affair is Ben’s fault - at least, that’s what Luke’s father says. After all, it was Ben who prompted him to drive across the country just for a quote-en-quote “talk” - a talk which ended in one tp’d Beverly Hills mansion, a very angry CEO, and a whole new generation of relationship drama in the Skywalker family.”

Or,

It’s 1988, and 17 year-old Luke and Leia Skywalker go on a road trip with Han, Chewbacca, and Wedge to teepee Palpatine’s house in Beverly Hills.

(read on ao3)

The whole affair is Ben’s fault - at least, that’s what Luke’s father says.  After all, it was Ben who prompted him to drive across the country just for a quote-en-quote “talk” - a talk which ended in one tp’d Beverly Hills mansion, a very angry CEO, and a whole new generation of relationship drama in the Skywalker family.

But if one really thinks about it (at least, this is what Luke figures), it’s all Aunt Beru’s fault.  She’s the one who pushed Luke to go to Bible Study anyway, which is why he started talking to Father Ben about his familial issues, which is why Ben told him to go visit his father.  If Beru had listened to Uncle Owen, Luke would have continued living a life where the word of God had no impact on his everyday actions, let alone the word of one of God’s rather more questionable followers.

(That was how Uncle Owen referred to Ben, anyway; he’d never liked the older man, possibly because of his friendship with Luke’s father - before Luke’s father threw out his rosary and sold his soul to a capitalistic devil, aka going to the “dark side”.  Those were Ben’s words, not Luke’s.)

And if one looked at it from a certain point of view, it was Anakin who began the whole affair.  He was the one who couldn’t be bothered to take care of his children after Padme died, which led inevitably to the Skywalker twins being split up.  Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru took in Luke, citing that they had an actual blood relation, while Leia was left to the care of Bail Organa, whom they called “Uncle” but was really just an associate of their mother’s. Beru often tried to reassure Luke that they would have taken Leia in, too, had they the income necessary to raise two children, but Luke’s never believed it - not really.  He didn’t know the real reason he and his sister had to be separated, but he knew it isn’t what his aunt and uncle tell him.

(Granted, Albany wasn’t exactly far away from their New York farm, but it was far enough that Luke only saw his twin for holidays, and otherwise spoke only through letters or over the phone.)

In the end, it doesn’t matter whose fault it is, who pushed Luke into such a reckless course of action. What does matter is what he did on the way to that great big mansion belonging to his father’s boss.

The answer? Quite a bit.

–

“Hey, Aunt Beru?”

He barely pokes his head around the corner into the kitchen; Beru is elbow-deep in some floury mixture, probably cookies of some sort. For a second, Luke is almost sorry that he’s leaving before they get out of the oven - but only almost.  He’s already packed, and Han’s on his way; all that leaves is to convince his Aunt that it’s all his father’s idea.

“What is it, Luke?”

“Dad wants his yearly visitation.”

Beru pauses, and her lips purse into what Luke likes to think of as her Very Unamused face.  He winces, wondering if she’s going to say he can’t go - or if she’s going to ask too many questions.  But after a moment she sighs, her eyes falling closed, and she says, “Okay.  I suppose we can’t stop him.  When is he taking you?”

Luke laughs a little, and he knows it sounds nervous but he’s always been terrible at lying, especially to his aunt and uncle. “Actually, when I called him today he said he’d sent us a letter.  His driver is set to arrive today.”

Beru turns and pins him with a flat look. “Today?”

Luke nods, hopefully convincingly. “I told him we never got a letter - it probably got lost in the mail?”

There’s a moment of silence as Aunt Beru stares him down, waiting for him to flinch.  Luke continues looking apologetic, and finally she lets out another sigh.  This one sounds very tired.  “Today,” she repeats under her breath, then, “I swear, that man will be the death of me.”

Luke waits in silence for her to deliver the final judgement - yes, he can go, or no, he can’t.  Beru shakes her head a little, sighs again, and finally speaks.

“Fine,” she says, then, “Your uncle won’t be happy about this.”

“Thanks, Aunt Beru!” he chirps, kissing her cheek, “The driver’ll be here any minute, love ya, bye!”

“Luke, wait - ”

But he’s already halfway down the hall to where his suitcase waits at the door, his guitar case leaning against it. He pulls his key off the hook, slides his guitar onto his back, and wraps his fingers around the handle of his suitcase.  Before his aunt can catch up to him, Luke tugs open the front door.

Wedge is standing on the porch, drumsticks in his hand and backpack by his feet.  His other hand is raised as if he’d been about to knock on the door when Luke had opened it, his mouth open in surprise at Luke’s sudden appearance.

“Where’re you going?” Wedge asks, dropping his hand to his side.  His words spill out of his mouth in a big jumble, Brooklyn accent coloring his vowels even though he hasn’t lived in the city in ten years.  With his relaxed posture and the way he lazily twirls his drumsticks, it’s clear why everyone at school thinks he’s a stoner.

(The irony of that situation is that Wedge has never touched a drug in his life.  Well, as far as Luke knows, and Luke’s known Wedge since they were seven.)

“Road trip to see dad,” Luke says, because he doesn’t trust Aunt Beru not to be listening in and he doesn’t want the plan put in jeopardy. “You wanna come?”

The twirling of the drumsticks stops.  “Serious?”  Wedge asks. Luke nods.

“My ride’ll be here any - ”

Before he can finish his sentence, a beat-up VW Bus comes careening down the road, going at what is probably top speed.  Wedge turns at the sound of tires squealing, and squints at the van.

“Is that…”

Luke steps outside, slamming the door behind him.  “Yes,” he says, voice low enough that Aunt Beru wouldn’t be able to hear him even if she had her ear pressed to the heavy oak behind him.  Wedge frowns.

“You sure this is a good idea?”

“Wedginald,” Luke says, allowing exasperation to creep into his tone, “when have I ever let you down?”

Wedge pauses for a moment, considering this question, and then shrugs.  “Well, never, I guess.”

“Exactly.  So get in the van, and we’ll worry about any specifics later.”

As soon as he finishes his sentence, the VW bus screeches to a halt, and the back door is thrown open.  Luke throws his suitcase in, pushes Wedge in as well, and then clambers over the mess lying on the floor as he pulls the door shut behind him.

“Hey, kid!”

“Han,” Wedge greets, a little coldly.

“You should drive,” Luke says quickly, “Or else Aunt Beru’ll find out I lied.”

“You lied?” Han sounds incredulous, but he hits the gas anyway; Luke almost falls forward at the sudden burst of speed, but he grabs the seat.  Wedge does fall forward, swearing as he bangs his elbow on the door.

“I only lied a little,” Luke says once he’s situated himself back in his seat, guitar case firmly situated between his legs.  “We are going to California, we are going to see my dad, it’s just I didn’t tell her that you were driving me there.”

Han crows with laughter, banging on his steering wheel. In the passenger’s seat, Chewie laughs and says something rapid in Papiamento that Luke doesn’t catch because even after two years of friendship he only knows a fraction of the language. Whatever he says only makes Han laugh harder; Wedge casts a confused glance in Luke’s direction.  Well, at least somebody’s as lost as he is.

“What’d he say?” Wedge asks.  Chewie says something vaguely condescending – even if he can’t understand words, Luke’s gotten pretty good at tone – and Han’s laughs falter into chuckles.

“He said that we’ve corrupted Luke,” Han says.  Luke scoffs.

“I’m not corrupted.”

“Sure you aren’t, kid.  Well, I guess it’s to California, then.”

“Actually, we have another stop to make.”

Han hits the breaks, turns around to look Luke in the eye, and frowns.  “You didn’t mention anything about that, kid.”

Luke holds up his hands. “Listen, Han, this was all Leia’s idea, not mine.”

The older boy’s brow furrows.  “Leia?”

Luke sighs, dropping his hands back into his lap.  “My twin sister?  We have to go pick her up before we head out west.”

“You have a twin?”

Luke blinks, because has he really never brought up Leia before when he’s with Han?  It seems unlikely, but then again, Luke has a tendency to be forgetful – and Han doesn’t seem like Leia’s type.  Nor does Han seem like Leia’s.  Quite honestly, Luke thinks Leia might kill Han before they even make it to Beverly Hills, which would not be ideal.  He doesn’t think his sister has a license, he knows Wedge doesn’t, and Luke?  The only thing Luke can drive is a tractor.  And he can’t do that well.

“Uh, yeah?” Luke fiddles with the strap on his guitar case, wanting to take it out and play but also not wanting to annoy his best friend. Well, his best friend besides Wedge. And Biggs, but Biggs went off to the army a year ago and Luke hasn’t seen or heard from him since then. “Uncle Bail adopted her when mom died and dad…” he makes a gesture that doesn’t really do a good job of encompassing left us to work for some CEO and stopped giving a crap about us.  “I don’t get to see her very often.  I’ve never mentioned her?”

Han shrugs. “You might’ve, kid, I don’t know.”

Luke glances at Wedge, who gives him a look like what do you want me to do?  I know who your sister is.  Which is true; Wedge has crashed enough family Christmases and birthdays that he’s known Leia nearly as long as he’s known Luke.  In fact, Wedge arguably respects Leia more than he respects Luke, but Luke can’t blame him for that.  Leia’s a natural born leader, and she gives off the vibe that she could absolutely murder someone who crossed her. At the same time, she’s incredibly charming – Wedge likes to say it’s because she’s been raised by a senator.

“Well, she’s real,” Luke says, which is something he instantly regrets saying, because nobody was doubting Leia’s existence and now he’s just made a fool of himself.  “And she’s in Albany, so. Head that way?”

“You’re gonna owe me for this, kid,” Han says.  Luke shrugs, partially because he knows Han won’t dump them halfway across the country and partially because Leia’s the one with the money, not him.  “Fine.  Albany it is. Chewie, put in a tape.”