Disclaimer: None of this is mine. Everything belongs to George Lucas.

Chapter Seven

"Dad, I'm your daughter! I hate when you-"

"-Look repulsed by me whenever I do something-"

"-You don't like. It makes me feel like-"

"-You don't love me anymore."

Han backed away from his daughter and Zekk, revulsion on his face.

"Do you two even realize when you finish what the other was saying?"

Jaina and Zekk looked at each other, annoyed.

"That's not the point, dad. The point is-"

"-That you should accept us for who we are-"

"-And not hate us for what we've become."

With that, Jaina turned and stormed out of the room. Zekk shot an exasperated look at Han, and followed her. She stood in her old bedroom, arms wrapped around herself. Zekk felt a mix of anger, misery, and hurt. He suddenly wanted to go back to Han and slap him in the face for being so kriffing dense.

"Jaina, he just-"

"-Needs more time? He's had enough time!" With that she burst into tears.

Sith, Jaina. You're stronger than this. Your father still loves us. Just because he's-

-Repulsed means something Zekk! He may still love us but he doesn't see us as his daughter anymore!

Jaina, I…

Zekk stopped thinking. Jaina knew what he thought. Both wanted to forgive Han and give him more time, but also Force throw him against the wall to knock some sense into him. It was difficult to tell whose thoughts were whose, but it hardly mattered anymore.

Zekk walked up to Jaina and rubbed his hands up and down her arms. He drew his face close to hers, and her breathing slowed as she closed her eyes. Her head tilted up and they rubbed their cheeks together in the jerky way of insects. Jaina returned the favor and clicked her gratitude. Zekk clicked that he would stand by her, and their thoughts blended together into a single thought.

We are in this together. We will be there for each other. Our thoughts and feelings are not our own. We will stand by each other no matter what obstacles stand in our way. We will answer for each other, for our answers are no longer those of the individual. We are no longer separate, different people. We are one.

They stood there, rubbing arms and faces, clicking at each other and silently talking to each other for a long time.