Author's Note: Howdy y'all and welcome to a little one shot based on what was going through Han Solo's mind while he was decorating Jabba's wall. This fiction was inspired in part by a scene that never made it into the final cut of "The Return Of The Jedi," in which Han Solo remarks that being in the carbonite was "a big wide awake nothing."

I took that idea and ran.

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of the characters associated with Star Wars or the Star Wars universe. They are the property of George Lucas, whether I like it or not. I make no money from these little excursions, so don't sue me; cause all I've got is a roll of quarters and a rather beat up punching bag. And I really need that roll of quarters for laundry.

Frozen

Leia's tearstained face was the last thing he saw before his world was plunged into darkness.

And how long ago that had happened, he couldn't really say. It was impossible to determine any length of time in his present state.

He thought carefully for a moment. What exactly was his present state? Had the carbon freezing process been successful? Or was he dead? He couldn't decide which was the better alternative.

After careful consideration he decided that maybe it would be better if he was in the carbon freeze, at least that way he could cling to the hope that he would be rescued.

Chewie would come for him if he was still alive, and he was pretty certain Leia would too.

Wouldn't she?

He stubbornly cleared any doubt from his mind, of course she would. This was the Princess Leia Organa he was talking about, the most stubborn woman to ever step foot in the galaxy.

That is of course, if they were able.

It occurred to him that he had no idea what had happened to either of them.

Were they with Vader? Had he taken them with him?

Probably. That seemed like exactly what that bastard would do.

Solo felt cold fear grip his heart. Would Vader finish what he had started on the Death Star? She'd been scheduled for termination then, if it hadn't been for Luke and his promises of riches, she would have made that appointment.

Suddenly, a single thought ripped through his mind, "Luke!"

Stars! What had happened to Luke? Lando had said that Vader hadn't wanted any of them; he was after Luke.

Why was he after Luke? Sure, the kid had blown Vader's favorite toy into smithereens and was probably the most wanted man in the galaxy because of it, but it just didn't make sense why Darth Vader himself would go through so much trouble just to grab the kid.

Stupid kid sure knew how to piss off all the wrong people, and now he had Darth Vader himself looking for him. And when Darth Vader was looking for a person, you could be certain he wasn't looking to make friends. He'd tortured the hell out of Han and he hadn't even wanted him. Han was horrified to think about what Vader could do to the kid if he ever got his hands on him.

The Corellian could only hope Luke hadn't shown up. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, "How did Vader expect to contact the kid anyway?" If all had gone to plan, Luke would be with the rest of the Rebellion fleet, undetected by the Imperial forces. So how in the galaxy did he expect to inform the kid that he had his friends?

One explanation kept popping up in his mind, but Han scornfully batted it away, until finally he couldn't shake the nagging feeling any longer. He knew what the answer was; two little words.

The Force.

Han had been a boy when the Jedi had been wiped out, but he'd heard stories about them. He'd been told that they could sense the power of other Jedi, and even communicate over long distances without a comlink. He'd also heard that they could sense danger, feel a threat before even the most well trained smugglers.

So there it was, the answer to two questions at once.

It was rumored around the galaxy that Vader had once been a Jedi. Everyone had heard tales of his method of punishment to those who had failed, disobeyed or angered him. Strangulation, without ever laying a finger on them.

Vader figured on luring the kid in with the knowledge of his friends' detention through some mysterious form of communication that was apparently limited to those who could use the Force.

And he'd only figured the kid could even communicate that way because as a fellow Force user, Vader had sensed that Luke shared his unique power.

Han would have smirked at that conclusion if he could, when you really thought it out that way it seemed pretty damn impossible.

But...he'd been a witness to the young man doing some pretty impossible things more than once. From knowing what enemy fighters were gonna do almost before they themselves did, to being able to catch an unfriendly face in the crowd without ever seeing them, Luke had sure proven that maybe there was something to those stories Kenobi had told him about some dead Jedi father.

Hell, Luke had even known when Fett had managed to corner Han on Ord Mandell.

All the signs pointed to one answer; Luke was a Jedi.

But no matter how obvious the signs were, Han didn't want to believe it. He didn't believe in that Force mumbo jumbo, it was all a load. No matter how many times the kid talked in his head, it wouldn't make a wide-eyed believer out of Han Solo. It didn't matter to Han that the kid could deflect blaster bolts with that blade of his, so what? The kid had good reflexes, big deal, that didn't make him a Jedi.

Of course, deep down Solo knew there was no other explanation for the boy's abilities, no normal human could make things float or move fast enough to intercept blaster bolts.

He wasn't ready to accept it, he was unwilling to submit to the will of some mystical energy force, so instead, a wave of anger flashed through him and he cursed the boy's idealism, his naive faith in something so impossibly stupid, and finally, he cursed the boy himself.

Stupid kid, getting himself involved with that crazy Kenobi, if he'd have just cut it out with that ridiculous Jedi business he wouldn't have Darth Vader breathing down his neck.

Solo had come to the conclusion that neither Vader nor Luke could use this "Force."

Instead, Vader had heard the same rumor that almost everyone sentient being in the galaxy had heard; that the hero of the alliance, the pilot who delivered the death blow to the indestructible Death Star, Luke Skywalker, was in fact the last of the Jedi and had finally come to destroy the evil Empire.

Han had heard the rumors himself, whispered in the alleys and cantinas throughout the galaxy. The romantic idea of the Last Jedi appealed to the downtrodden masses, maybe too much. That was why Vader had been tracking him personally. If Luke had just been a pilot and not The Last Jedi, Vader wouldn't be after him personally, Han was certain of that.

And as far as Vader's methods of contacting the boy, Han let that one go, being far too preoccupied with being angry with Luke.

"Damn kid, he's gonna get himself killed with this Jedi business, not to mention everyone around him," Han thought darkly.

The moment the thought occurred to him, Han was ashamed.

He knew Luke wasn't responsible for his suffering; the kid would rather die than see anything happen to his friends, he was so damn selfless. Han had seen the kid risk his hide for others, including himself, way too many times to actually believe otherwise about Luke. But he couldn't help being angry with the him, if only for a moment.

As the anger faded, it was replaced with concern.

Luke could be dead now.

The hope he'd brought with him as The Hero of the Rebellion, The Last Jedi, extinguished like everything else that had ever stood against the Empire. Desperately Han tried to cling to the idea that Luke still lived, but as much as he wanted to believe it, logic and precedence was against him.

If Vader had managed to inform Luke that he was holding his friends, there was nothing in all the galaxy that would keep the kid from coming to their aid, bringing him straight into Vader's clutches. From experience Han knew Luke was tougher than he looked, but not nearly tough enough to survive a showdown with Darth Vader.

A great sense of despair flooded through the Corellian and if he could, he would have wept. All those he had grudgingly come to care about, wiped away in one fell swoop. Chewie, Leia, and finally Luke. All gone. And he was trapped in a slab of carbonite with no hope of rescue.

He had no idea how long he had wallowed in dark thoughts when suddenly a presence broke though, like a light chasing away the shadows.

It felt as though it was searching for something, someone, and with a start Han knew it searched for him.

A wave of reassurance flooded Han's consciousness and the cold of the carbonite melted away from his mind. Without knowing how, Han knew Leia and Chewie were safe, and with that knowledge came a wave of relief.

He couldn't help but wonder still about Luke.

A chill ran through him at the thought, and then after a moment the warmth returned, offering promises that Luke was fine as well. Han wasn't nearly as convinced as the presence seemed to urge him to be.

Then the presence seemed to weaken and fade. The Corellian could feel it slipping away from him, and then, it was gone.

Han was bewildered.

Why was he all of a sudden so certain that Leia and Chewie were fine?

And why did he still worry for Luke, when he was so convinced of Leia and Chewie's well being?

The answers to those questions eluded him, even as a greater question loomed.

What was that...presence?

For what seemed like hours he puzzled over the questions, all the while, never noticing that the overwhelming despair he'd felt not so long ago had vanished completely and that he seemed to be wrapped within a cloak of contentment and warmth.

Hours, days, maybe even weeks had passed and still the Corellian remained in the carbonite. The well-being he had possessed had by then been spent and his thoughts had once again returned to darkness.

Without warning the presence returned, and without speaking it whispered to him that everything would be all right, his friends would find him, and he would soon be free of his carbonite prison. As suddenly as it came, it drifted away again.

Reassured and once more able to look forward to an eventual rescue Han busied himself with thoughts of his friends.

Mostly of Leia.

He loved her, of this he was sure and for the first time in his life, Han Solo imagined what it would be like to settle down, and have a family.

Although, he reminded himself, settling down with Leia Organa probably wasn't going to be anything like most people in the galaxy. No doubt she would want to continue her involvement with the Rebellion, and surprisingly he found himself sharing that desire.

If he ever got out of the carbonite, he had every intention of rejoining the Rebellion, even if he would never admit it to anyone else.

Besides, he thought jokingly, he certainly couldn't leave her alone amongst all those young, male Rebel soldiers; she might start to change her mind.

He stopped.

Though the thought had been in jest, it had unexpectedly struck a nerve in Solo, and a niggling feeling of jealousy wormed itself into his mind. He tried to swat it away, but to his surprise Solo realized that he was not as confident about Leia's affections as he had led on. Oh, he wasn't really concerned about the masses of young Rebel soldiers, no; it was one Rebel in particular he was concerned about.

Luke Skywalker.

Sure, the kid was his friend, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that there was something between Skywalker and the Princess.

After Leia's rather frantic rescue, Han had been sure that the kid had a crush on her. Nothing fancy, just plain old puppy love. And it hadn't surprised him in the least; Luke was a wet behind the ears farmboy on his first jaunt into the galaxy, and Leia was a beautiful princess, a damsel in distress.

Hell, it seemed like it had been pulled straight out of a storybook.

Ever since then, Luke and Leia had been fast friends. It was common knowledge around the Rebel bases, if you needed to find Luke, find Leia and vice versa.

But in all the time Luke and Leia had known each other, it had never gone beyond a close friendship.

Or at least not that anyone knew of.

Solo liked to believe it was because Leia loved him and only him, but he was forced to admit that it may have been because Luke was just too shy to make a move.

And if that was the case, Han felt a little bad for sweeping Leia away while Luke was absent. Over hours of deliberation Han decided that if Leia revealed that Luke was the one she wanted and Luke felt the same way, he would step aside, he would be a grown up about it. After all, he loved Leia and he wanted her to be happy, even if it broke his heart.

Han found himself thinking of his friends often, wondering where they were, how they were doing, when they were coming for him. He even surprised himself, as he found himself thinking more often of Leia than of the Falcon.

That was a first; a woman coming before the Falcon, he would have laughed aloud if he could.

As time passed Han found it harder and harder to string together coherent thought, and sometimes he would wonder if he was finally starting to lose it. And then a wave of warmth and comfort would rush through him and he knew he hadn't yet lost himself.

It went on like that for what seemed like ages, Han would cling to the hope of rescue and struggle not to lose himself in the great void that was his prison, and then warmth would permeate it all, dragging him from delusions and waking nightmares and he would feel like himself again.

Then a time came when the circumstances of Solo's situation became too much for his beleaguered spirit and he began to slip away, further and further into the dark.

And he raged against the galaxy for his suffering as dark thoughts rose unbidden to his mind.

He blamed Leia for forcing him to ferry her around the galaxy and right into Vader's hands, he blamed Chewbacca for abandoning him to a carbonite prison, and he blamed Lando for his unforgivable betrayal.

But most of all, he blamed Skywalker.

It was Skywalker who'd dragged him along on the Death Star, swindling him into helping rescue some loud mouthed princess, then further dragging him into the Rebels' pathetic revolution, even though they stood no chance of winning. And then to top it off, Vader had trapped him, tortured him, and frozen him in carbonite just to get to Skywalker.

That was all Vader wanted. He tested the carbon freeze on Solo, so that he could be sure it wouldn't harm Skywalker. All of Han's suffering was for Skywalker, a dumb kid fresh off the farm, playing Jedi. And now Han suffered for the stupid boy's delusions, and in his rage, Solo prayed to every deity he knew of, that Luke Skywalker had been caught by Vader, that he had been tortured as Han had, worse even. He prayed that Skywalker would suffer as he did now, alone and tired in a world of never ending dark.

All that he asked was that Skywalker lived long enough to see all his delusions come tumbling down; he was no Jedi, Kenobi was nothing more than a crazy old fossil, and the Rebellion was a dream just like that supposed Jedi father of his. All of it, just one big joke.

"Han."

A gentle voice broke through Han's raging mind and he faltered, convinced that he had finally succumbed to madness.

"Han?"

The voice was gentle and quiet, somehow managing to sound both young and old at the same time, and to Han's surprise he recognized it. Though noticeably different from the last time he'd heard it, there was no mistaking that voice, there was only one person in the galaxy that said his name with that farmboy drawl.

"Luke?"

As he thought the name, Han could feel the hate draining away.

There was no 'loud mouthed princess,' only Leia Organa, the most beautiful woman in the galaxy, Chewie hadn't abandoned him, he'd only done what Han had asked him to do, and Lando, well Lando was still a rotten backstabber, but Luke was not some blindly idealistic fool who'd manipulated Han since they'd met, nor was Han's current predicament his doing.

No, Luke was just a kindhearted boy who'd only ever done what he thought was right, and by doing so, had become the enemy of those who were his polar opposites.

Han's suffering was their doing, and theirs alone.

Suddenly he remembered all the horrible things he'd wished upon the boy, and guilt and shame came crashing down like a ton of durasteel. He hadn't realized how close to the edge he'd been, but he must have been pretty far gone to wish those things on Luke, the Kid.

"I know you didn't mean it Han, don't worry."

"Wha... how is this happening? What's going on? Luke?"

"You're alright Han, the carbon freeze was a success, you're in perfect hibernation," the voice sounded unbelievably sad.

"Don't worry, Han, we're coming to get you. Leia is fine, so is Chewie, they're safe. Don't worry."

And for some inexplicable reason, he didn't. He felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders, worry and pain and anger all just seemed to drift away.

"We'll be there soon, Han."

And with that, the voice was gone. Leaving Han to ponder what exactly had just happened.

He decided that it must have been his subconscious' way of keeping him sane.

How ironic, delusions to maintain his sanity.

As if that was not odd enough, he decided it was rather odd that he'd chosen Luke as his messenger of hope. Well, maybe not that odd.

He went around and around, puzzling over the occurrence, there was really no explanation for what had just happened, but then, was there anything usual about his situation in general? The Corellian decided that maybe his life had gone beyond the ordinary a long time ago.

The voice visited him once more, it had been quite some time since the last episode and Han had begun to believe he'd only imagined it. It came as suddenly as before, but like a cool breeze on a hot day, it was eagerly welcomed.

Solo had always been somewhat of a loner, but this forced isolation was torture even to a creature as solitary as the Corellian.

"Han."

"Luke, what's going on? How is this happening?"

Once again, the voice, Luke, continued speaking as if the question hadn't even been heard.

"Han, you'll be out soon, it won't be long-"

"Luke! Damnit! What the Hell is going on? How am I even talking to you? Is this a delusion? Am I going crazy? What is going on? Answer me, now!"

He hadn't meant to explode, but he wanted answers, and Luke, or whatever it was, was the only contact he'd had in who knows how long.

"You're not crazy, don't worry, you'll soon be free."

"Damnit! That's not an answer, what is going on?"

"I'm not entirely sure what is going on really."

Luke sounded so old. How long had he been frozen?

"After all," he continued, "you're the only person I know who's been frozen in carbonite, there's not much of an example to go by."

There, he'd sounded almost like the boy Han remembered.

"At any rate, you won't be in there much longer. Don't worry, Han. This will all be over soon. Take care now."

"Luke? LUKE!"

But he was already gone.

More time passed and suddenly there was a strange warmth spreading over Solo's body.

With a start, Solo realized that he had just felt his skin, for the first time in...well, too long. Then a chill ran up his spine and all of a sudden he made contact with something hard, very hard. Arms were around him and someone was speaking to him. A horrible mechanical sound grated out and Han questioned desperately.

The answer sent waves of joy through his body and he felt like his heart would explode.

He was with Leia now, and wait...he knew that laugh.

Author's Note: Well there it is. Loved it? Hated it? Fairly indifferent towards it? Let me know, I'd appreciate it greatly. I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Again, thanks for reading!