A Shift In Focus
When was the last time he had been this close to Ben?
Every night carrying a crying infant, every time he picked up his toddler, every sheepish smile shared between him and his son as they cleaned their hands after digging through the Falcon and getting grease on something of Leia's before being told to clean up–
–every touch was a distant blur in his memory. He was not even touching his son now, but he was close to him, and all the distances before this moment, all the years without even seeing him, told Han this was a victory. He was simply standing next to his son, and that being a success hurt almost as much as the pain in Ben's eyes. The utter confusion at the very sight of his own father was not something Han knew how to fix.
His grip tightened on the lightsaber, wanting to take it away, wanting to throw it down the chasm underneath him, wanting everything it represented to be gone from his life. Han stayed still, eyes locked on Ben's, because that decision could not be his. Not at this moment.
It never really could be, if he was being honest. You couldn't take the Force out of someone. He couldn't detach himself form the legacy of the family he had chosen to enter, chosen to create.
Ben's grip shifted, the lightsaber moving in his hands, and Han's heart quickened. This was it then, the end of the struggle in Ben's eyes. Han's grip tightened, instinct, terror, desperation, denial, he wasn't sure, but some part of him would not relent. He was fighting, but even his thoughts would not voice what.
Then the lightsaber stopped.
Han almost looked down. Had he let go? Had he been trying to shove it into his grasp? Ben's eyes widened and Han almost brought up his other hand to help steady the weapon between them.
"Ben, please."
The words could have come from Han, but they were in her voice. The warmth of another body present was strange, there was no space for her to stand where she was, but she was there all the same. He was certain of it, though he could not see her. Han could not feel her hand, though he knew it lay across his and Ben's.
Leia stood between them and their son's eyes were no longer glassy with tears, but with rage.
"You won't even face me yourself!"
Han was too caught up in Leia to balk at their son's screaming. Was this part of why she asked him to do this? So she could find a gateway to their son? Had she sensed his failure? Had she known what was about to happen?
"Please, come home."
The catwalk was dark. How long had the light been gone?
"Coward! You've always tried to poison me with your weakness!"
"Ben–"
If this weapon fired, if he lost Leia….
Their son's voice cracked as he screamed. "You're nothing to me!"
Han let go of the lightsaber and took a step back. Ben's eyes left the phantom space where Han would have sworn Leia had stood, focusing wholly on him. His mouth was too dry to make another plea. The saber sprang to life, the neon brightness wreaking havoc with Han's dark accustomed vision, consuming everything with red. He couldn't out run his son even if he could see. The kid had been outstripping him since he was five.
"Daddy, watch! I can do the Kessel Run in ten parsecs!"
The stitch in his side had him gratefully collapsing on to the floor. "I believe you, kid."
"Daddy, watch!"
Would he ever be as close to his son again? He took another step back and feared answering that question. How many more years would there be before he would even see him again? Or was this the last time?
The red saber streaked through the air, energy crackling and humming, and utterly missed Han. Ben was in the same spot where Han had met him on the catwalk, he hadn't pursued him. The saber flashed again and again, this time leaving bright streaks of super heated metal in the catwalk as he hacked at it.
Ben hadn't refused to follow him. He couldn't.
Han froze, and when his son's gaze returned to him, Ben bared his teeth and screamed. Han twisted and turned, running before he realized his body was moving again.
His throat was still dry, but he forced the words out. "Chewie, blow it!"
The concussion from the blast knocked him off his feet.
There was a delay in all their readings, in all communication with their fighters. Eyes were glued to monitors, even knowing that the moment a warning came, it would be too late for them to evacuate. Most of the fleet was already out at Star Killer Base. Those that remained were the truly hopeful, or utterly lost. No one let themselves be distracted from their work, futile though it could be.
No one noticed the dark splotches of blood falling on to the strategy board. The general falling to her knees pulled attention away from monitors, and though no one had time to cry out their surprise, someone still made it to her side before she struck the ground.
The sound of Chewie shouting led Han through the smoke and the flames and messy barrage of blaster fire. At least he wasn't cold anymore. A hand landed on his shoulder, and Han almost brought his blaster to bear before he realized the figure at his side was too large to be anyone other than Chewbacca.
"Don't do that!"
Chewie's response was almost lost to the roar of the flames and the ringing in his ears.
"Later, we've got to get out of here."
Every step he took seemed to be the wrong one, going by the hand that never left his shoulder. Or his legs were more shaky than he realized, and he needed the help to stay upright. He wasn't moving slowly out of that death trap, was he?
Would Ben be held back while the structure collapsed around him?
The thought would have stopped his forward momentum if he had still be in charge of it. When he and Chewie burst out of the burning building, the feel of the ice and the cold took a moment to reach him. It was dark out. Of course it was dark out. The sun was gone.
Leia.
Chewie had to repeat himself three times before Han could hear him.
"What?" Those two kids had been in the building? "Then why did you–"
Chewie punctuated his reprimand by dragging Han forward.
"Fine, it was the right thing to do. They got out, right?"
He didn't have a chance to answer, as the ground trembled beneath their feet, nearly sending them both skidding into snow drifts. The planet was coming apart. The base was coming apart. Had it managed to fire before its breakdown?
"We need to get back to the Falcon!"
Chewie roared.
"We won't be any help to those two if we can't get off this rock."
Marching through the snow had been difficult enough when the earth hadn't been trying to buck him off. Focusing on getting each foot forward kept his mind clear. It wasn't as bad as Hoth. Maybe his body was already too numb. Maybe his thoughts were already too scattered to need clearing.
Every step was bringing him closer to the Millennium Falcon. He had been too long without his ship. His freedom. His home. What if he lost her. What would the stars be without her? They had parked her on a cliff. It had better hold.
But… what if he lost her.
Wherever she was wasn't home. Not to her, not to him. She had never really made one, after losing her world. She had been good with him on the Falcon, his home had been hers then. When it hadn't been able to be that, at least she had still been out there. An anchor. A reason to go back, even if he never did. What would he do if he didn't have that anymore? How much more drifting could he do in the stars before he vanished? If he had nothing drawing him back?
Their steps got easier when they fell into the groove left by the Falcon's low altitude landing. She was still at the end of the line of gouged earth.
"Let's find those kids and get off this heap."
Hopefully Leia would still be at the end of the hyperspace jump.
Nights in the desert were cold, freezing, but they were dry. The damp was pervasive. The snow. Her tears. Rey wasn't sure what to make of the blue tinge of her fingernails, or the blue seeping into Finn's lips. It was cold, but it was a cold she did not know. It sank into her, tried to stop her blood.
She did not want to move from Finn's side. Was not sure she could if she wanted to. What if Kylo Ren rose? What if he found a way to cross the chasm and reach them? Could she keep fighting?
It was cold, and wet, and it was strange that her numb skin still held the power to melt the snow around her.
The flickering of light through the trees made her raise her head, and she was blinded a moment before she recognized Han and Chewbacca, the noise of the Falcon's engines drowning out even the crumbling of the earth. She was not sure if she laughed, or continued to cry.
At least the Falcon's medbay meant no one was getting shoved inside of a ton ton. It was a small comfort, the kid had looked awful when Chewie had got him aboard. Rey looked awful too, though it was a different sort of trauma, the kind that lingered in the eyes.
She had a lightsaber clutched in her hands and Han fled to the cockpit at the sight of it, making sure their course was steady. He tapped into the pilot chatter, making sure everyone that was left could make the jump.
Poe Dameron's voice was the most frequent. Leia's best pilot. Something clutched his chest at that thought, though he was not certain he could call it jealousy at this point in his life. No one reported the weapon having fired before its destruction, but when the system appeared before his eyes after the jump, he still felt relief.
What if he lost her.
Even with the swarms of people on the ground, he expected to see her. It didn't matter that she reached most people's shoulders in height, she stood out in a crowd. She had ridden out to the last battle Han– the Resistance– had been a part of, not seeing her at the doors to her own base was unnerving.
Chewie's echoing rumble of confusion at her absence only made his stomach twist into tighter knots.
They had taken Finn away and Han had not lingered to speak with her. Rey did not know what to do. Pilots were still disembarking, some from smoking crafts. Being idle was not in her nature, so she headed towards them. Someone could always use an extra pair of hands for repairs.
The ache in her abused muscles, and the cold that had so recently crept inside of her, was pushed from her thoughts. She could stand. Finn could not. She could do something, so she had to.
She didn't even cross the first X-Wing nose when an excited litany of beeping made her stop. BB-8 rolled around her, excitedly whistling their account of the battle. It nearly made her smile, but such a gesture felt strange, even at the end of their victory. She crouched down to put a hand on the droid, hoping to calm it.
"So you're the antennae fixer."
Her focus jolted up and her hand twitched towards where she had clipped the lightsaber to her belt. The pilot in front of her smiled, unperturbed or politely ignoring her reaction. Rey slowly stood as BB-8 stilled just enough to rock back and forth, still whistling.
"I'm Poe Dameron."
"I'm Rey." She tilted her head as the familiarity of the name finally struck her. "You're the man who the jacket belongs to."
"That's what I'm known as? Well, it's Finn's now, so you'll just have to call me Poe." He flashed a grin. "Speaking of, where is he?"
She hadn't even been in the battle, though she had seen her fair share of firefights. Han really wouldn't have had a reason to rebuke her if she had tried to be out on the front lines. Still, the fact remained she had not been there, and she had still gotten hurt. At least, she had not been there in a way he could adequately explain.
If she had been the force that held their son back on the catwalk, what had happened when he had gotten free? Given her state, it seemed likely he had to break free, rather than wait to be released.
Leia opened her eyes when he stepped up to the side of her bed.
"You're here." Her words were slurred by exhaustion. Had he woken her up? He didn't want to disturb her, on the other hand….
"Should I be somewhere else?"
Leia closed her eyes and gave him a soft, crooked smile. Han dragged a chair to the side of the bed, intent on committing to his vigil. He hadn't gotten much from the med techs, they were too busy dealing with the new arrivals to spare him a report of someone who was already stable.
"You did what you could." She sounded like she was falling back asleep, and he had to lean forward in order to hear her.
"He… it wasn't enough."
Her hand shifted across the blanket and he gladly reached out to take it.
"You reached out. He knows we're still here. That he has something to come back to. That's what matters." Her eyes opened again, and he was close enough now to notice the red in them. Dark, spidery, blotches that spoke of burst blood vessels.
Han tightened his grip on her hand, and the stutter of her thumb across his finger made him frown. "Leia…."
Her use of the Force had always been subtler than Luke's. The sparse training she had received from her brother was not something they had discussed much. She had told him it was something she needed to do in order to understand herself, and he had respected that. Still, it had been years before he realized that just because she wasn't deflecting laser bolts with her hand, or pulling objects across the room, that it didn't mean she wasn't using the Force.
Her ability to read a room, or a person, was part political training and part mysticism. You wanted to tell the truth to her, and Han wasn't really sure if that was just because of her reputation, or because of her will over the Force. She was also the most frustrating person to play hide and seek with.
All in all, her presence on that catwalk while he had faced Ben had been the most overt use of the Force he had ever seen from her. Had facing their son, or the act itself, been what had taken its tole on her? He wasn't sure he wanted to know. If Ben had done this to her….
"You're drifting away from me again."
His eyes snapped back to her face, and he shook his head, words caught in his throat.
"If you tell me you're staying, that will be the real surprise of the week."
He finally realized the slur in her words was not due to exhaustion. What if he lost her. "Just checking up on you, I thought you were past needing a babysitter."
Her sharp huff might have been a laugh, and though her grip was weak she finally squeezed his hand back. "You're the one who always needed watching. You run Chewie ragged."
Telling her he was not a toddler would only make him sound petulant. "Thank you."
She looked at him like he had lost his mind.
"For what you did. With Ben."
"Don't." She closed her eyes and he saw her throat shudder as she swallowed.
"What?" It had been her, hadn't it?
"I can't– you can't thank me for that."
"Too late, Princess." It was too easy to fall back into his frustration with her. Of everything for her to fight him on, this–
"He was going to kill you."
His irritation vanished in an instant. She had felt what was about to happen then. She had still reached out, just as he had. Had the doubts he had expressed to her been the reason she had watched over him? Had it been why he hadn't been able to reach Ben? His reaction to Leia had been confusing. The quickness which he turned to such animal anger at the very sight of her was terrifying.
"At least it wasn't an easy choice." She couldn't hide from what their son had nearly done, though neither of them were likely to ever truly know what had gone through his mind as he decided it.
"No."
He read the word on her lips more than heard it. Ben had struggled when faced with his father, but with his mother, the violence had almost been second nature.
"After all you've done, no one can call you a coward and know what that word means."
Her shaky smile lasted a moment before she shook her head. "He always wondered why I didn't train more with the Force. He would ask me about it."
An explanation. This was something they had given each other too rarely, in the past. "He never spoke to me about that."
The look in her eye reminded him of why. Han was not Force sensitive. Had his son hated him, or pitied him, for lacking the power the rest of his family had?
"He always thought I had given it up, and he couldn't understand for what. Now, now he must think I did because I was afraid."
Afraid of Vader's ghost perhaps, but not the Force, she had seen the good it could do. He did not want her to dwell in such old, painful memories. "You don't give up on anything."
Where he expected amusement, her expression darkened. "I think… I gave up on you, for a while."
That hurt, but he could not contest what he made her feel. He could avoid that look in her eyes though, one of the rarer expressions she wore around him. The one that said she was going to apologize. He didn't need that from her, couldn't ask for or accept it, after everything. "I know."
"Han–" Her exasperation tinged through her exhaustion.
He leaned forward and brushed his lips against her forehead. "Get some rest, Your Highness."
There was a moment of silence where he worried that she would rebuke him, but she just shifted underneath the blankets as she settled. "It's 'General'."
"Not to me."
She either ignored him, or had finally gone back to sleep.
Poe had offered to go with her, and though Rey liked the pilot that had taken Finn from the First Order, she wanted to do this alone. He didn't push, and when she started to walk away, he shouted after her not to tell Finn too much, as Poe had his own story to add about the fight on Star Killer base.
Rey was certain he would have his own vigil at Finn's bedside once he knew it was clear. The map the strange old R2 unit and BB-8 had put together had given her her next step. She just couldn't take it without first speaking with Finn, whatever state he was in.
She had expected the med center to be clear of all but a handful of personnel, so when she saw the faint light of a hologram, she froze. It took her a moment to recognize it. It was the map that led to Luke Skywalker, shrunk down to fit into the smaller space near one of the beds.
Rey crept forward slowly, wanting to catch sight of who else was getting the information. The old R2 unit was at one side of the bed, while Han was passed out in a chair on the other side. That meant the woman propped up in the bed could only be one person: General Leia Organa.
The hologram vanished and Rey almost jumped at the sudden darkness.
"Thank you, R2." Her voice was rough, and her words were slightly slurred.
It wasn't what Rey expected her to sound like, and as she strained to hear the woman, she barely caught the soft whir from the droid.
"Don't apologize. Luke is… Luke. It's good to see you again. I'm sure Threepio–"
A sharp beep made the corner of Rey's lip twitch.
"Yes well, just remember, I'm the one that's been living with him."
The curious trill from the R2 unit caught Rey's interest, and she leaned forward instinctively.
"No, he hasn't. But he's here. For now."
Han Solo offering her a job had been one of the most amazing moments in her life. Hearing the general's words, and remembering how Maz had spoken of him having run for too long, Rey began to wonder if perhaps, there wasn't somewhere else he was supposed to be. At least, somewhere he could be, with people who cared for him. She had waited so long for someone to come back for her. It was almost unfathomable to her that someone would run from someone who was waiting for them.
She took a step back, suddenly ashamed of her eavesdropping. She was here to visit Finn.
"Don't get shy now."
Rey didn't realize that the words had been directed at her, until the R2 unit added its own amused whistle. She twisted her hands in her clothes a moment before stepping forward, making sure to keep her head raised.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–"
"Don't apologize." She waved her hand, barely lifting it from the blankets to do so. "I wanted to speak with you, actually."
"You did? Why?" Her voice rose with her surprise, and Han shifted in his chair.
His head lolled to the side and he started to snore. The general sighed.
"I had just gotten him to stop."
R2 trilled his solution.
"No, don't do that. He needs his rest. And you, come closer."
Rey stepped around the droid in order to stand at her bedside.
Organa's eyes were half lidded as they looked up at her, and her words came slower, but more distinctly. "I wanted to thank you."
"I don't understand."
The edge of the general's lip curled in a smile. There was something about this woman that pricked at Rey's consciousness, something that told her she was more than an old Resistance leader in a medical bed. Something that told her to listen, and not just to her words. Her gaze made the hairs on the back of Rey's neck stand up, and her skin sport gooseflesh. She resisted the urge to rub her hands across her arms and stared back, eyes beginning to water as she refused to blink.
"You've brought some much needed hope to this movement."
Rey's mouth opened, but even a sound of surprise was stolen from her in her shock.
"You're a catalyst, and change is sure to follow you."
Rey's rebuke died in her throat, and she whispered out her fear instead. "How can you be certain it will be for the better?"
"I can't. That's where the hope comes in."
Simple, plaintive, honestly. Rey wasn't sure what to make of it. The general shifted, and Rey leaned closer, only to be caught in a hug. General Leia Organa was hugging her. Rey sank forward and did her best to return the gesture. Being held was not something she had much experience with. It was why she had reacted so badly when Finn had first grabbed her hand.
She did not need to be led, she did not need to be guided by some stranger. It had taken her some time to realize he had done it because he was afraid. There was comfort in touch, something she instinctively knew, which was why she had been so quick to embrace him after their escape on the Millennium Falcon. But a hug, just for someone to hold on to her for more than an excited breath, Rey could not remember the last time it had happened.
Tears pricked in her eyes though she did not know why. The general's hold on her was not particularly strong, but there was a solid comfort in her warmth.
"Never underestimate a good hug at the end of a trying day."
It was more like a trying week, but Rey was not about to dispute semantics. The general had probably had more than her fair share of rough days.
"Sweetheart, if that's all you needed, you could have just asked."
If she hadn't already let go of her, Rey's jump back would have ripped her out of the general's arms. She had not realized Han had woken up. And had he just–
–he was looking at the general. Right. Of course that was who he had been speaking to.
"Han."
"What?" His hands did not pull her into a hug, put traced down her arms before resting on her hands, using his finger's to brush against the general's. "You've already got more motion back."
The quiet intensity of his words made Rey eye the woman in the bed more critically. Just what had happened to her?
"As I said." She pulled her hands from his grasp only to lay them back on top of his. "I'll be fine."
"Mumbo jumbo has medical benefits, huh?"
Mumbo jumbo? The niggling feeling in the back of Rey's mind finally made sense. "You're a Jedi!"
Her exclamation had them both turning to stare at her. Her cheeks flushed under their scrutiny.
"Not quite. My brother is the only one I know of who can truly train you."
Han slipped his hands from the general's grasp, slowly standing, and grimacing as he did so. She looked amused at his display of discomfort.
"Hopefully your pilot will be in good enough shape to get you to him."
"To–?" Han froze mid-stretch. "You found Luke? How long have I been asleep?"
"Just a few hours. R2 woke up."
The droid shuffled back and forth, whistling his displeasure at being overlooked.
"Don't use that kind of language with me! Listen here, you tin can, your master–"
"–Han–"
"–had better remember Hoth, because I'm–"
"–Han–"
"What?"
"Don't bring up the wampa when you see Luke."
Rey had started edging away as they began to raise their voices, and though she sensed no real hostility, she was not sure how she was supposed to respond in that situation. She still needed to see Finn anyway. She had a lot to tell him, whether or not he would be able to listen.
There was an important lesson on hugs and the holding of hands she hoped he would appreciate, regardless of consciousness.
Traveling to a section of the galaxy that was uncharted in most ship databanks was oddly anti-climatic. They had several navigational stops along the way, checking for star drift even as R2 whistled his insistence at the newness of the map he possessed. Han wasn't going to take any chances, and he appreciated the extra time before arriving at their destination.
Before seeing Luke, if he was even still there. The Kid had better be. Rey was counting on it. And Leia was counting on him. How she could still have so much faith in him after he had cut and run–
–Han choked back the sour taste in his mouth. Sure, he'd run too, but never so far away that it took a treasure hunt and secret maps to find him. Leia had confessed she had given up for a time. Had that included Luke, as well as himself? He wanted time to learn what dragged her out of it. He wanted time to let her know he wouldn't let her think that of him again. However deserved it had been.
He would have volunteered for this, certainly, but having Leia send him off with no warning was dizzying. Despite what she said, was he still too much of a reminder of Ben? Had they both fallen so far back into their roles that they didn't remember how to live with each other?
His hands brought him out of hyperspace on muscle memory, and he barely registered the planet that appeared before him. Chewie's comment landed on deaf ears as he started the scanner, trying to find the most likely spot to land, and locate the wayward Jedi.
The island chain he found barely had enough room for the Falcon, and Rey bounded out towards the steep hills almost before the gangway had finished lowering. Han wasn't sure if she could sense someone out there, or was just too impatient to wait for the rest of them. Perhaps it was best that they let her reach Luke first.
Those stairs looked like hell, anyway. Chewie headed towards the water that lapped up towards the landing gear, checking that it couldn't do much damage. Han frowned at the R2 unit at his side.
"I'm not carrying you up those hills."
The indignant response made him scowl.
"Thrusters, since when have you got thrusters?"
The droid whirred his displeasure and wheeled away across the rocky shore. Han's eyes drifted out towards the vertical, winding, path ahead of them, catching sight of Rey already cresting her first hill. It was a shame she hadn't accepted his offer as second mate. Having a Jedi aboard ship had its uses.
Han turned away from the path leading deeper into the island, walking out onto the beach and staring over the ocean. Time on isolated worlds like this always seemed to pass differently. No faster or slower than the hours Han kept track of in his head, but removed, distant and unrelated to the rest of the galaxy. It felt, standing on that beach, as if he could look out over the course of his life and witness everything over again. For each decision was still unspooling in their own time, all apart on their own worlds while he watched from this one.
It gave him time and perspective to reconcile, to think. To remember.
Next time he saw Leia, he wasn't going to greet her by commenting on her hair. He would lead with 'I love you'. There had been too many moments in his past where he had not. Han liked to think he had enough of a future to begin to rectify that.