it's okay to be afraid

“Little bits,” he promises, shifting on the cushion until his hands rest above his folded knees. He closes his eyes. “We’ll stop at the first thing that sounds familiar.” I try to think of how to describe Luke Skywalker. “Um. Sunshine. Warm sunshine. The weight of history. A starfighter in a swamp.” “Wings shaped like two leths joined together at their points?” “Yes.” A quick spike of pain flashes down the bond like a spark of static electricity, too quickly to be smothered. Master Si’s face doesn't move, but the training bond lets me see more clearly. He lifts a hand, eyes closed, reaching out for the starfighter in his future-memory. “Lifting it out of the water,” he says, his words forming slowly as if they are what is being dragged from the depths of Dagobah. “Okay, you can stop now.” I sit up.t “I think I can get it a little clearer.” It’s the same thing as rejecting painkillers because it’s not that bad, really. I grab his knee and give it a jostle. He opens his eyes and looks down at me. “I’m fine.” “You were about not to be.” “But I am.” “That's the same argument I use, except it's ‘but I can’.” Part of the tension he's been carrying around for the last couple of weeks eases from his shoulders.