Wedge doesn't think his coping mechanism are better than Luke'sβhe joined this rebellion not out of revenge as he did against the Galactic Empire, but because it's all he's known most of his life. His happy childhood, with his parents and his sister in a grimy-but-idyllic fueling station, is light-years away. Now ends up that wasn't even true.
He's joined because being a rebel is in his blood, but, at the core of it all, because he has nothing better to do. To not have something to do would be the death of Wedge. Regardless of the morals and ethics of this world, Wedge doesn't want to be idle. Idleness invites thinking and right now, he doesn't want to think too much.
But he understands that his approach isn't Luke's. Luke needs to truly, wholeheartedly believe in something before he can throw his life at it. And, considering the losses he suffered, it'll take longer for Rogue Leader to return to his former glory. It isn't a criticism against Luke, just that Corellian pragmatism that's guided Wedge through so much of his life.
"You're welcome, Rogue Leader," he says, reciprocating the joke. The truth is that Wedge is just as lost as Luke, just in a different direction. But just because he doesn't have all the answer doesn't mean he can't help his friend figure out his. Wedge is, unlike Luke, rather secretive with his emotions. He doesn't expect Luke to help him with his wound while Luke's bleeding all over the floor. Someone can't pull you out of a hole they too are falling into.
And Luke's hole is much, much deeper.
This time, against his usual demeanor, Wedge wraps his arms around Luke, and hugs him tight. Luke smells clean, safe-clean, that astringent, sour note a days-long dip in bacta left behind. It was wrong. People shouldn't smell like this. "We'll get through it, Luke. They'll never stop us."
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He's joined because being a rebel is in his blood, but, at the core of it all, because he has nothing better to do. To not have something to do would be the death of Wedge. Regardless of the morals and ethics of this world, Wedge doesn't want to be idle. Idleness invites thinking and right now, he doesn't want to think too much.
But he understands that his approach isn't Luke's. Luke needs to truly, wholeheartedly believe in something before he can throw his life at it. And, considering the losses he suffered, it'll take longer for Rogue Leader to return to his former glory. It isn't a criticism against Luke, just that Corellian pragmatism that's guided Wedge through so much of his life.
"You're welcome, Rogue Leader," he says, reciprocating the joke. The truth is that Wedge is just as lost as Luke, just in a different direction. But just because he doesn't have all the answer doesn't mean he can't help his friend figure out his. Wedge is, unlike Luke, rather secretive with his emotions. He doesn't expect Luke to help him with his wound while Luke's bleeding all over the floor. Someone can't pull you out of a hole they too are falling into.
And Luke's hole is much, much deeper.
This time, against his usual demeanor, Wedge wraps his arms around Luke, and hugs him tight. Luke smells clean, safe-clean, that astringent, sour note a days-long dip in bacta left behind. It was wrong. People shouldn't smell like this. "We'll get through it, Luke. They'll never stop us."