For the first time in his life Luke found himself wondering if the galaxy was worth saving. Everyone he loved or found himself attached to was, inevitably, torn away from him. It had happened with his aunt and uncle, it had happened with Ben, and then Biggs. Now... now he destined to lose Han too.
He couldn't believe it. He refused to believe it... but he knew it was true. He could feel it. The Force was confusing in this place and Luke's own connection with it was still shaky at best. He couldn't do half of the things he should or that people seemed to expect of him. He wasn't the great Jedi he was meant to be. He wasn't even the only one left here. Still... even if he couldn't feel that the words the boy spoke were the truth there was a movie out. A movie that he discovered, after a little research, depicted Han's death. It was true. Han was dead and this boy, his son, had been the one to kill him.
Luke cried. He couldn't help it. Losing Han was heart breaking even if, for him, it hadn't happened yet and wouldn't for awhile.
Hearing the knock on the door, he looked up and frowned. Biting his lower lip he got up and opened the door. He didn't really want company. He wanted to cry and deny it. He wanted to take his blaster and track down Kylo Ren himself. He wanted to avenge Han. Instead he found himself opening the door to the father he'd never known.