Star Wars One-Shots

Claustrophobia

Author's Note: This was an idea that I've had for a while, so I let my sister steal this plot bunny so it could finally see the light of day. Lol.

Also, this is a gift for Wishfulthinking1979 on ao3, and this is for the SW Father-Son Appreciation Gift Exchange.

~ Amina Gila

After nearly being crushed to death in the trash disposal on the Death Star, Luke has never liked enclosed spaces very much. And he has a particular aversion to enclosed, wet places. When he crash-lands on a small, remote planet, he'll have to face that fear... and Darth Vader.

Jagged bolts of lightning crackle through the sky around Luke, as he struggles to keep control of his spinning fighter. Trying to fight off Imperials in this weather was not how he was hoping the day would go. At first, the thick cloud cover had seemed like an advantage, because the Imperials couldn't see him, though he was still able to see – thanks to the Force – but that was until he showed up.

He doesn't know for sure if it was Vader, but the fighter was flying the exact same way Vader's had been over the Death Star only a couple months ago when he'd nearly killed him.

Luke hadn't managed to avoid him in time, though he thinks he might have scored a hit of his own, before crashing.

His comms aren't working either, so he can't contact anyone for help. Or to warn the rest of the Rebel fleet to get out of here, because with Vader's flying, this is a fight they'll never be able to win.

Luke's X-wing slams hard into the ground, throwing Luke face first onto the control panels. When he blinks his eyes open again, he's lying awkwardly on his side.

Water drips onto his face and he reaches up, wincing at the pain stinging in his arm. Slowly he pushes himself upright, breathing in the cool, damp air. The fighter is half-turned on its side, the transparisteel on part of it shattered. It doesn't help that it's cold out, or maybe it's just that he's already all wet from the pounding rain that the fighter and trees surrounding it are doing little to protect him from. He's still getting used to low temperatures after Tatooine, and he's definitely not used to the rain. At all.

It was amazing the first time he saw an actual rainstorm, but now is hardly the time to enjoy it. Especially not when he's already chilled to the bone.

He reaches up, brushing his damp hair out of his face, standing and clambering out onto the ground. The Empire is out here looking for him, he's certain. He needs to run.

So he does.

He did it plenty of times on Tatooine, even when he was already somewhat injured from a Tusken attack, and now is even more dangerous.

He doesn't see anyone anywhere, but he needs to get away from the crash site and find somewhere to hide until the rain starts to let up. It's raining so hard he can't see much of anything, but the brilliant flashes of lightning give him a small amount of light as he makes his way across the landscape. His entire body aches, probably bruised in more places than should be possible, but there's no time to worry about it right now.

The gaping mouth of a cave comes into view, and Luke ducks inside immediately, leaning against the wall, breathing hard. His side hurts too, and blood trickles down his arm, gashed open from the transparisteel on the fighter. It's not serious, though.

Water splashes on the stone beneath him, and abruptly, all he can remember is the Death Star. He is not fond of large amounts of water. Not like this, anyway. He far too distinctly remembers being dragged under, frantically struggling to pull away from the creature holding onto him, only for the walls to start closing in on them before he even had a chance to catch his breath.