Han Solo was alone. His face was stoic as he folded each of the spare blankets for the fifth time. Determined to keep busy, he was cleaning and reorganizing every corner of the Falcon.
As he was tucking the stack of blankets above the bunk in the rear bedroom, a bit of fabric fell to the floor. He retrieved the small item, wondering where it came from. He turned it over in his hand and saw that it was a finger puppet. He fought the sob rising in his throat, clenching his jaw tight against emotion.
It just wasn't fair.
He might have been okay, if Chewie was here. But no, the galaxy had seen fit to take his copilot first. He might have been okay, if he could at least spend every waking moment with his wife and remaining children. But no. He was here alone, with nothing but a stupid finger puppet.
No, he corrected himself. It had been Anakin's favorite. It wasn't stupid.
Han opened his fist slowly, revealing the now crushed sheath of fabric. He carefully picked it up and pulled it over his finger, restoring most of its original shape.
It had started as a craft project that Leia had insisted he participate it. His puppet was supposed to be a tauntaun, but between the floppy horns and the uneven eyes, mostly it just looked goofy. But Anakin had insisted they still play with it, and eventually Han had even come up with a special voice just for the character. A ridiculous, sing-song voice with a made-up accent.
Han couldn't help but give half a smile at the thought of Anakin's laughter when they'd spent the afternoon playing with the handmade toys.
It was awfully convenient, Han mused, finding that puppet after all these years on today of all days. Or maybe, just maybe...
Han wasn't so alone after all.
"I miss you, buddy," Han whispered.
His finger twitched and on a whim Han added, in that same ridiculous voice he'd always used for the misshapen puppet, "I's misses ya too, kidio!"
Han swore he could hear Anakin's boisterous laughter filling the room and echoing throughout the ship. Han couldn't help but join in, laughing until it hurt. Laughing until he cried. Laughing until there was no more room for pain; for a moment, there was only childhood exuberance.
Author's Note: This story is based on prompts provided by the Ultimate Drabble Challenge 5 (week 19) on TF.N.
