My thanks to StatsGrandma57, Freshman11, 2Old4This2, EsmeAmelia, jeanmarie3, MultiFandomGirl1424, violetkitty, Book girl fan, ccp, MrsScruffyNerfherder, and everyone else who is following along at home. I appreciate the support!

And thanks again to my son for beta-reading. :)

Leia tried to tell herself that she wasn't actively avoiding Han, that she simply had too much work to do to go and see him, but she was failing miserably at self-deception. Her emotions were running amok; they had been all over the place ever since Han's tender touch had cracked her open three days ago, leaving her fragile and exposed. In her current frame of mind, she did not desire to draw base gossip back to Captain Solo and herself; the Rogues had finally moved on to another target. Leia knew from Luke that Wedge and Janson had been to visit Han; the last thing she wanted was to run into them at the smuggler's bedside. And Luke had reassured her that Han was doing quite well; the doctors had started the first phase of actual testing for his headaches and Han was tolerating the procedure better than anyone had expected.

Still ... something just doesn't feel right. Leia couldn't get Han off her mind tonight no matter how hard she tried. She glanced at the chrono in her quarters. It was very late, too late to go to the east wing of the med lab with any hope of not drawing the curious attention of some resident of Echo Base.

I'll go see him first thing in the morning, she decided, when I'm emotionally strong and at my sharpest. And yet, Leia felt compelled to act now, in her terribly weakened and confused state.

Something's wrong with Han. I just know it. She couldn't tell if it was physical or mental, internal to him or external to the base, but she knew that he needed attention. If she let herself stop and dwell on the depth of her connection to the smuggler, Leia knew she that would be too terrified of their intimacy to act on her feelings. So she focused instead on the basic steps leading to his bedside: pulling on her warm boots, slipping into her parka, stopping to activate the door sensor. Once in the hall, Leia briskly made her way to the med lab. The uneasy feeling grew the closer she drew to Captain Solo's room.

The night nurse raised an eyebrow when she entered the east wing. "May I help you?"

Leia tried to pull herself together by using her most regal tone. "I need to see Captain Solo," she began smoothly. "He ... uh ... he comm'ed me," she finished with a bald lie.

The nurse's other eyebrow raised to match the first. "Mmm, hmm," she said, nodding conspiratorially. "You were never here, were you?" She gave Leia a knowing smile. "Be quick about it. There's a shift change in an hour."

Leia hurried down the hall, hoping that the night nurse wasn't friends with anyone in Rogue Squadron. Peeking into Han's dimly lit room, she could tell from his snoring that he was sound asleep. How foolish of me! Of course he is. Everyone's asleep. It's the middle of the night. I was a bantha brain to come here.

She was about to leave when Han cried out, "Mother! Please don't leave me!"

Leia's eyes widened. Han sounded like a lost little boy, terrified and alone. Her heart constricted from his pain and she walked briskly to his side. He began to thrash about in the bedsheets; Leia worried that he might pull out his IV or damage the ring of wires around his head. One glance at the monitors behind Han told Leia what she already knew: he was obviously in distress.

She grabbed his hand and squeezed. "Shh, Han, it's okay. You're all right. You're in the med lab."

"Where's my mother?" Han's voice reflected abject terror. His eyes flew open, but it was clear that he hadn't yet come back to himself.

Leia gently stroked his arm to wake him up. "She can't be here right now, Han honey." She spoke through tears. "But she loves you very much."

"Leia?" Han's voice was once again his own, and Leia found herself, once again, hugging him in relief. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. "Why are you crying?" he asked, genuinely confused.

She squeezed his hand a second time. "I've done nothing but cry since I saw you last," she admitted. "I think you broke me." She gave him a tired smile, which he didn't return. Leia tried a different tactic. "You were having a bad dream. About your mother."

Han stiffened and closed his eyes. "Oh." His voice was calm, but the monitors he was tethered to told a wildly different story. That one word was packed with unspoken tension.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she ventured. "You keep looking for her in your sleep."

"She left me in the Blue Sector of Coronet," Han explained, his voice clipped and void of emotion, "when I was four. I never saw her again until after she died." He swallowed, hard, and Leia watched his face grow blotchy as he fought to maintain control.

She opened her arms. "Can I hold you?" She hoped that she could calm him down before one of the pieces of monitoring equipment sounded an alarm.

Han opened his eyes and regarded her warily. "Maybe. Why now?"

She smiled at him. "A good friend of mine once told me that's okay to be human," she said softly. "That goes for you, too, nerfherder."

Han gave her a crooked smile. He didn't crack a joke about the depth of their "good friendship" as she had expected, but he did slide over to make room for her on the bed. Like the night on his refresher floor, Leia cradled Han's head in her lap. But with the monitor and attendant wiring in place, she could only stroke one cheek and the crown of his head. As she rocked him, two fat tears slid from Han's eyes, leaving Leia with a lump in her throat.