I do not own Star Wars: The Force Awakens.
Or a Han Solo.
Stranger Son
I should have been there more.
Chewie was right, I should have stayed and toughed it out.
His trembling hand gently brushed the face of his son.
His only son.
The one who'd just jammed a lightsaber into his gut.
I should have been there .
I should have tried more.
He had never understood the Force really.
Not like Luke had.
He had only thought the boy was troubled,
So it had been easier to deceive to himself about it, to deceive them all and go off on mission after mission.
Hide behind his duty to the galaxy.
Instead of duty to his son.
He didn't know if he could have saved him from the Dark Side, from being seduced and consumed by it.
After all, if Luke Skywalker, the powerful Jedi Master couldn't, what chance did a mere smuggler?
Or so he had told himself.
But at that moment, looking at the hated-filled face of his stranger son, he wished he would have tried more.
Reached out more.
So he tried now.
Gazed deep into the dark eyes of that black clad man, searched and searched for the boy he'd once loved.
Tried to say all that he could not.
Give all that he had left.
The little that it was.
He kept his gaze on his son for as long as he could.
Before Han Solo crumbled. Fell over the edge.
And away into oblivion.
Yep, burst into tears and haven't recovered yet.
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