Luke found him staring blankly at the wall, unable to move.

"Han?" He asked, carefully.

The older man didn't respond. Luke had never seen him so lost, so unable to do anything but sit there. Han had always been the man to spring in to action, to refuse to sit idly by while the Force had its way with him. He didn't believe in fate; he believed in making his own destiny, in solving the problems before him to get the solution that he wanted.

Suddenly, he wasn't that man anymore. He was at the mercy of fate.

Luke could hardly stand it.