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Wedge would have survived Kessel. That's what he keeps telling himself. He would have survived the dark and the cold and the thin air and the spiders and the back-breaking work and the fear until the rest of the Rogues came for him.
But even as that train dragged him inexorably toward his fate, Wedge had known he was kidding himself. Missions to rescue a single person were rare and even more rarely worth it. He wasn't worth it.
And yet they had. Wedge hadn't even been on the train that long before it had screeched to a halt and half of his squadmates had barged onboard. He'd rarely been more glad to see any of them.
They'd brought his X-wing, slaving his navicomputer to Luke's, and Wedge had been only too eager to assure them he was able and willing to fly home. Just getting his hands back on the controls of his fighter had helped assure him he was safe and free.
For some reason, though, he still hasn't entirely stopped shaking by the time he leaves his cockpit back in the hanger aboard Home One. The creeping fear of what might have been is still there. Wedge stands at the bottom of the ladder nudged up against his ship taking deep, steadying breaths.
“Hey.”
The voice is soft, but the sudden hand on his shoulder makes Wedge flinch. He gathers himself and turns to find Luke frowning at him.
“Are you okay?”
Wedge wishes he could lie to him, but Luke always knows. But then again, he's Wedge's boyfriend and asks because he cares, so maybe he deserves the truth.
“I'm still shaky,” Wedge admits.
Luke's face softens with concern, but he doesn't reach out again. “That's understandable. No one got a chance to really look at you before we got out of there. Are you hurt?”
Wedge can't lie about this either. “I fought the Imps who came for me after my ship went down, but there were too many,” he says, a verbal shrug. “Nothing more than bruises for my trouble there, though.”
“That's good,” Luke says, but there's a silent and? in his tone.
Wedge sighs, knowing Luke will see soon enough. It's not like Wedge isn't already anticipating tonight back in their quarters when Luke will gently strip him and check every inch of his body for himself.
Wedge pushes up the sleeves of his flight suit, hissing sharply as the fabric catches on his injuries. The blood has dried, smeared dark on his cuffs and forearms. The skin of his wrists and meat of his palms are ragged and torn. Raw and painful, too, but he'd managed to mostly ignore it up to now.
Luke lets out a little shocked sound, blue eyes going wide.
“They shackled me,” Wedge explains quietly, “and I kept trying to escape. Couldn't fit my hands through no matter how hard I tried. Thought I could break my wrist to make it work, but I couldn't even kriffing manage that.”
The spark of anger is gone as quickly as it had come, but it makes Luke's eyes sharpen. “Is that it? Do you feel like you should have been able to escape by yourself?”
Wedge looks away. “That or not gotten myself captured in the first place.”
Luke frowns again. “You're not perfect, Wedge. We all need saving sometimes; that's what squadrons are for.”
“It wasn't worth risking the squadron for me.” Wedge can't tell if he feels better or worse for having said the words aloud.
“Wedge, look at me.” When he does, Luke tells him earnestly, “Your rescue was a volunteer mission, and not a single Rogue turned it down. Trust me when I tell you you are more than worth it to us.”
Wedge doesn't know what to say. His chest feels suddenly tight.
Luke's hands raise in the air between them, his eyes on Wedge's injuries. “May I?”
Wedge nods.
Luke takes his arms, touching well below the points of pain. He meets Wedge's eyes and repeats, “You are worth it, Wedge.” He touches the gentlest of kisses to one wrist then the other.
Wedge whimpers, not from pain, but from the overwhelming tenderness Luke shows him.
“Now,” Luke says gently, still holding him close, “I'm going to take you to medical. We'll get you taken care of, then something to eat, maybe a shower, and a few hours of rest before debriefing. How does that sound?”
Wedge nods and allows himself to sag as Luke wraps an arm around his waist, taking some of his weight. Yes, Wedge wants all of those things. Mostly, though, he just wants Luke, by his side, loving him with this gentle persistence, for the rest of his life.