Chapter Two

Summary, disclaimers, etc. are in chapter one. Also, sorry for the tense mix-up in the first couple of paragraphs of Chapter One - I'm not sure how they slipped through, but they did. I'll try to do better this time. And thanks to everyone who has read - and reviewed.

Han shifted his cramped legs with difficulty. There was little room in the temporary shelter that he had hastily assembled and Luke's prone form was presently occupying the bulk of it. The thin layer of ice on his pants cracked with his movement although the sound of it was lost to the raging wind that buffeted the shelter. The snow and then the remnants of the tauntaun had permeated the waterproofing of his snow suit and the small portable heater failed to keep the shivering from his limbs.

Luke moaned into the frigid night, drawing his attention briefly away from the painful cold. If he was suffering the effects of the cold so severely, he could only imagine what it was doing to his young friend and his injuries. He tucked their only blanket more tightly around Luke and shifted the heater closer to his face. The injuries to his face weren't very serious and concerned him little. The pallor of his skin and the bluish tinge to his lips were a completely different matter altogether.

As the night wore on, the painful burning in his legs faded and although he was grateful for the freedom from the pain, he also knew that the absence of pain was not an encouraging sign. Pulling his gloves off, he blew the warm air from inside him into the palms of his hands. His fingertips held a bluish tinge that matched that of Luke's cheeks. Disregarding the discouraging evidence of his own body's reaction to the elements, he cupped his hands around his mouth and blew on them again. He placed his warmed hands on his friend's cheeks and tried not to cringe at the cold he felt there.

His eyelids felt weighted and he struggled against the overwhelming urge to succumb to the peaceful warmth that sleep promised. He knew that if he did, the warmth he would find would be permanent and he wasn't ready for that yet.

Leia's face floated into his mind and he tried not to think about their last conversation. Their last conversations, really. They had always fought and argued in the years that they had known each other, but this was worse than any of those previous arguments. He remembered the gut-wrenching pain when she had calmly told him in the med-centre that there was nothing between them now that Ayrdon was gone. That there had been nothing before him and now that he was gone, there was nothing left. That they had only been together because of him and they didn't have to pretend now that he was gone.

He hadn't been pretending.

He loved her. He loved her more than he loved life itself. He loved her more than he loved their son. He loved her and he would leave her because he loved her. But he hadn't wanted to leave with things the way they were between them.

He knew that she was angry with him - he was angry with himself and his selfishness. It was his selfishness that had caused him to let things drag on so long with Jabba. He had wanted her and to be around her and knew that once he left, he might never see her again. So he had stayed and disregarded the ever-increasing bounty on his head. He was selfish and had stayed to serve that selfish need to be near her. He was selfish and his selfishness had cost them their son.

His eyes burned with unshed tears and he struggled to keep them at bay; they would freeze the moment they graced his cold skin. He shifted closer to Luke and the heater, checking his friend's status again. He needed to make sure that Luke made it; someone had to take care of Leia and he couldn't stick around to do it himself.

The cold anger of her reaction to his leaving had goaded him into starting another argument with her and now their last words had been filled with ire. He didn't know if he preferred the emotionless statement as she had lain in the med-centre bed or the anger-filled words just before he had come to search for Luke.

Neither.

So much had come and gone between them that they should be able to part ways with something more than a few unintended insults. He had so wanted her to take away the pain of her dismissal of their relationship, but instead, he had goaded her into to denying that there ever had been anything between them. Now he was going to freeze to death on this godforsaken ice ball and the last thing he had told her had been that she needed a good kiss. Not that he loved her. Not that he was sorry for all the pain he had caused her. Not even that he needed to kiss her; to hold her and wrap her tightly in his arms just one last time so he could have the memory of their embrace to last him for the rest of his days, no matter how limited they might be.

He gave in to the pull of his eyelids briefly and closed his eyes, finding a vision of her in his bed in his memory banks. He tried to remember the warmth of her body next to him, the feel of her in his arms, the way she fit so perfectly against him. If he was going to freeze to death, he didn't want his last moments to be spent thinking about all of the pain in his life.

The high-pitched whining of the heater's tiny motor woke him from his accidental slumber. The whining faded and with a quiet click, the motor stopped altogether.

"Flenchk!"

The curse word slipped easily from his lips and echoed loudly in the silence of the small shelter. He had forced all of his anger and frustration into that word and enjoyed a brief respite from the dark emotions. Pulling off his gloves, he blew warm air into his palms again, warming his numb fingers before picking up the offending unit. Turning it over in his hands, he examined it, determining the easiest way to gain access to the heater's mechanical components. Using his vibroblade - the closest thing to a tool that he had available to him - he pried the protective covering off. Minutes stretched into nearly an hour as his numbed fingers struggled to repair the broken heater. The task was made more difficult by the fading light of the lantern, a nearly complete absence of tools and the lack of dexterity in his normally dexterous fingers. Finally, the motor shuddered into motion and life-saving heat began to once again emanate from the tiny unit. He placed it next to Luke again and tried to shift closer as well. His legs failed to comply with his request that they move and he glanced at his wrist chrono before replacing his gloves.

"Okay, kid, daylight is just over an hour away." His voice sounded strange to his ears. "Then, I hope they have the speeders ready 'cause I don't think I can carry you back and I really don't want to be near another tauntaun again. The smell of you has been quite enough to last me a lifetime."

Sorry for the short chapters, but it just seems a fitting place to end. As usual, please feel free to send me your thoughts. I welcome all forms of feedback. Scarlet.