He has to force himself to continue walking--hobbling, really, the leg is really in quite a lot of pain--as Ben indicates he knows exactly what's going on. Or, anyway, suspects the same impossible thing Luke does. He pales under the sheen of sweat, biting his lip as he leans a bit on the other man to get his bearings, but soon they're making decent progress, falling into a rhythm.

Maybe that process is sufficient cover for Luke's confusion and shock. How is it possible? And yet, is it any stranger than any other explanation, which relies too heavily on coincidence and long odds? He probably shouldn't have said that, he realizes too late. About knowing someone, about him having meant a lot. It gave away too much.

But he's not sure he's ready to talk about that, or even to acknowledge the truth. It would mean having to do something about it, and that's a level of forethought he doesn't feel equipped for at the moment.

"I think we should focus on the immediate," he says after a pause, almost laughing at how that recalls Yoda's admonition of his need to always chase the future. Well, maybe he has learned something. Or maybe his brain just can't process that this young man could actually be Ben Kenobi.

He never would've guessed red hair, he notices distractedly.