A thousand knives are being driven into her skin.
Her entire body is bursting into flames.
A mountain is crushing her; the breath of life is slowly, agonizingly being squeezed out of her.
Her once beautiful face is now twisted in pain; her lips are parted in a scream of wordless suffering. She is writhing on the floor, her life hanging only by a thread…
It stops.
She gasps for breath, hot tears still running down her face and dropping onto the cold grated floor. If she could only breathe; hold onto life for a little longer…
Where is the rebel base?
A booming, demanding voice…
You must tell me.
Must tell…
Your father wishes it!
Father…
WHERE IS THE LOCATION OF THE REBEL BASE?
Rebel Base…
"I can't tell," she says weakly; subconsciously.
Then you will DIE!
The voice comes louder than ever. A small jolt of electricity goes through her spine…
"No!" she screams again, the word turning into a long, incomprehensible scream. Again she is in a world of pain. Never-ending, ever-present pain.
"STOP! I can't tell! Please help me! Make it stop! I can't tell..."
Leia. Leia. Leia.
The voice says her name in repetition.
"MAKE IT STOP!" she screams at the voice.
Leia? Leia! You need to-
"HELP ME!" she cries.
"Leia, wake up!" The voice has changed. It sounds agitated, almost afraid.
Wake up…
Leia awoke screaming, tearful eyes snapping open, sweat pouring down her face. Her eyes darted around the room, as if looking for something; someone. She stared into a pair of hazel-green eyes, ones she didn't recognize…
"Where am I?" she whispered. The sharp features in her face had faded; her bright eyes dimmed; frightened and confused. A tear rolled down one pale cheek.
"You're on the Millennium Falcon," Han answered, as gently as he could muster. "It's Han Solo."
"Father?"
"He's…not here, sweetheart," Han chose his words carefully.
She looked at him for a moment, her face unreadable. She shakily stood to her feet.
Then it all seemed to hit her at once.
Darth Vader. Death Star. Torture.
Alderaan.
"Han," she gasped, her eyes flooded with recognition and grief. Her legs buckled beneath her, and she collapsed into sobs-and into Han's arms. Han, who had expected to be expelled from the room once he entered, froze, not knowing how to react to this sudden show of emotion from the strong-willed, fiery-tempered princess. He carefully put his arms around her, and stroked her long hair. Her trembling body felt so small, so fragile in his strong arms. He realized how young she was, she was still a mere child. How does she do this? He marveled grimly. At this young age, she had been through what most wouldn't survive: A severe imperial interrogation by the second most feared person in the galaxy, the loss of her family, her home, and her future. And yet, she kept up an emotional barrier through it all.
But now, like a flood, all her emotions had broken through the strong wall, and Han-of all people-was the one there to see it.
He picked her up and cradled her in his arms, as if she were a small child, and sat down in the pilots' seat, looking out at the stars. There they sat for what seemed like an eternity; Leia holding onto him as if her life depended on it, and sobbing, her young, fragile heart broken.