Kissing – Han and Leia
The spot where Han had kissed Leia's lips before he disappeared down into the carbon freezer still tingled, as if it were waiting for him to kiss her again. She concentrated on keeping her breath steady as the streaks of hyperspace rushed past the Falcon. No, she couldn't cry here. She had to at least keep her head until they reached the fleet.
She had to be strong for Luke.
Why did Luke keep muttering about Vader and why did he keep asking Ben why he didn't "tell him"? Tell him what? Leia reasoned that Luke must be delirious after having his hand cut off, but why was her stomach twisting every time he spoke to the dead man, as if his cries actually had some validity to them?
Luke was still in the seat behind her, his head lolling as if asleep. Leia realized that she should probably take him back to the bunk – it probably wouldn't help his healing process to sleep in the seat. Healing process – that wasn't exactly an accurate phrase, since his missing hand would never heal.
"Luke?" she said gently, causing him to open his blackened, swollen eyes only slightly. "Come on, you should get back to bed."
He didn't answer as she bent over, gently slid his arm over her shoulder, and urged him to a standing position, but he didn't resist either. His mind seemed somewhere far away as she slowly led him out of the cockpit towards the medbay.
"I know . . ."
No, no, she shouldn't think about Han's last words right now. Last words – no, she shouldn't think those two words either. Han wasn't lost forever . . . he wasn't . . .
"I know . . ."
And it was wrong to be angry at someone who had just suffered a horrible fate.
No, she wasn't angry – she couldn't be angry – but . . . why did he say that right before his possible death or endless sleep? What was that nerfherder thinking?
She swallowed as they reached the medical bunk and she carefully laid Luke down.
"I know . . ."
Was it wrong of her to have wanted him to return the confession she'd given him? Come on, she shouldn't be dwelling on this when Luke had lost his hand and Han was frozen. It was stupid and shallow to be wondering about Han's words when so much else had happened. She should be ashamed of herself.
"Leia?" Luke suddenly gasped out, his eyes barely open.
"Yes?"
"Where's Han?"
Leia's throat was suddenly as dry as if she'd had no water for days. "Han?" she whispered, blinking to keep tears in.
Luke's eyes were closing. "Han . . . Vader got him . . . didn't he? . . ." His words faded away and sleep overtook him before Leia could answer. He looked like a helpless child whose entire world had collapsed under him. What did happen during his confrontation with Vader?
The princess shuddered as she pulled the covers over Luke. How was she ever going to tell him what happened to Han? She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands trembling in her lap, her lips still feeling his last kiss.
"I know . . ."
Even if his words didn't return her confession, she'd still felt the fierce desperation in his kiss, seen how his lips remained pursed even as the stormtroopers dragged him away from her. And his eyes – his absolutely heartbroken eyes as he sank down into the freezer, fixed on her as if he was trying to memorize her face. All of that had to mean something, right?
"I know . . ."
This was stupid – she should be focusing on rescuing him instead of those words.
How were they going to rescue him?
The Rebellion certainly wouldn't use precious troops to rescue one person. As a leader of the Alliance, Leia would be expected to accept Han as a casualty of war.
Which she couldn't do.
"I know . . ."
His last words – no, don't call them that! – pounded in her head as if he were crying for help from the depths of the carbonite and she was the only one who could reach him.
"Han," she found herself whispering out loud almost without her mind's permission, "hold on, I'm coming for you. I know you can't hear me, but I'm coming. Just don't give up."
What was happening to her? She certainly wasn't prone to talking to people who weren't there normally and if anyone had told her that she would ever consider neglecting her duty for . . . for Han Solo of all people, she would have taken them to be drunk. In fact, the person who would tell her that would probably be Han Solo and he probably would have been drunk.
Yet here she was, pledging to save him with or without the Rebellion's help. Something inside her had been fundamentally changed. Not since her planet's destruction had she felt so much, but she didn't want to banish the pain.
She still felt his desperate kiss on her lips.
"I'm coming, Han," she repeated. "That kiss won't be our last."