CHAPTER 12:
Chewbacca swung himself out of his hammock and headed toward the cockpit. He slowly passed Han's cabin and inconspicuously looked into the room. The princess lied curled up on the bed facing the wall and clutching Han's parka as if it were a stuffed toy. Chewbacca stood under the doorway and frowned. She was in the exact same position as she was when he checked on her a couple of hours ago. Her body slightly shook, and Chewie surmised that she was still crying. He thought it impossible for a human, especially one so small, could cry so many tears.
But the girl had held in a lot of tears over the last three years. Chewie decided that he wouldn't disturb her at this time. He continued on to the maintenance access where he would find his very hurt and angry friend.
Han straddled a wide pipe as he manipulated the hydrospanner with the agility that matched no one Chewbacca had ever met. Han looked up when Chewie greeted him, but Han showed no pleasure in seeing his best friend.
"It's not my business," Han focused his attention completely on his work. "Besides, she doesn't want anything to do with me."
Chewie crouched down and rowlfulled. Han froze for a moment, and his countenance twitched, "Yeah, she told me she that she wants me to leave when we reach Sullust."
Chewbacca's brow dropped and he sat down at the edge of the maintenance access. Han sighed and stopped working, "Maybe I was thinking of changin' that plan."
The Wookie rested his weight on his hands and hummed. Han rested his head on another pipe, "I…I don't know. I thought staying might be a good idea."
Chewie fought to contain his smile as he pressed Han for more details. Han looked up at him, his face contorted with frustration, "Maybe…I don't know." He slammed the hydrospanner against the pipe, "It doesn't matter. I can't do anything for her."
Chewbacca mumbled and Han shook his head, "Look! She made things quite clear. And she's right. The farther away from things that remind me of Luke, the faster I'll forget."
Chewie humped, and Han glared at him, "Of course—" He sighed and his shoulders slumped. "No, I'll never forget her," he whispered.
The Wookie stood up and stretched his arms and back as he continued to interrogate Han. Han scowled and returned to his work with more fervor than before, "Just let it alone. She'll be alright. She always is."
Chewie's growl forced Han to look up at him. She hasn't been all right since we've known her. Chewbacca's words struck Han as if the Wookie slapped him across the face. Han himself knew the depth of truth in his best friend's words. But what could he do about it? He couldn't do anything for her, maybe comfort her temporarily but that wasn't enough. I'm not Luke. I'm the one who let Luke die. Leia wanted him to leave so he'd forget about Luke and his grief. But maybe she wished him to leave because he reminded her of Luke's death because he was the one who failed to save Luke.
"Not my problem," Han snarled. "If you're gonna help me than keep your mouth shut and help me. If not then go find somethin' else to do."
Chewie grunted and left Han to his repairs. Han watched him go. When his best friend was out of sight, Han tipped his face toward the ceiling and rested his weight on the hand that clutched the edge of the maintenance hatch. He never knew he was capable of hurting this much. He had been rejected before, but it never hurt in the way it did now. He had approximately two more days with her if all goes well. Han doubted he had the strength to survive his broken, destroyed heart. He knew what he had to do; he had to stay as far away from the petite princess as possible.
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Chewbacca put down his data pad and swung himself out of his hammock. It must have been about midday or late afternoon, but in space did it really matter? No, Chewie told time by the grumbles in his stomach. He deactivated his datapad and started toward the galley, passing the other crew cabins as he had done several times that day already.
The Wookie stopped in the doorway of Han's cabin and found exactly what he expected. Leia still lied curled up on the bed, facing the wall and clutching Han's parka as if it was a plush toy. He sighed. Chewie knew Leia didn't want Han to leave; he didn't have to be a Jedi to sense that. He surmised from his discussion with Han and the tears she had shed since the morning after she talked to Han, that she was pushing Han away to protect him, to give him a chance to heal. Chewie knew that Han would never heal if he ran away, but Leia's stubbornness matched his best friend's, and Chewie would never convince her that she was wrong.
Instead of giving her privacy as he had every time he checked on her that day, Chewbacca walked over to her and sat on the edge of her bed. She didn't react or try to hold her tears as she normally did. He wanted to comfort her with words, but she wouldn't understand him and Chewie didn't want Threepio around. Anyhow, words were pointless at this time. Chewbacca reached out and stroked her hair, his hand slowly sliding from the top of her head down to her back over and over again.
Leia's eyes closed, though her tears still slipped from beneath her eyelids. Her breathing slowed and her muscles relaxed. Chewbacca's gentle touch, his tender silence reminded her of the way her father comforted her when she was young. Her father could erase her hurt, but she knew her pain was too great to be stroked away this time. No matter, she was grateful for the Wookie's presence and touch. His care and love for her penetrated her body with each stroke of his large hand. Leia absorbed his comforting touch, and before she knew it, she slipped into a dreamless slumber.
Once Chewbacca was certain the princess was sound asleep, he left her and decided to do something to relieve his growing hunger pains.
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Han Solo entered the galley, and his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He grimaced, "Do you think you could've made a bigger mess?"
Chewbacca looked around at the dirty pots and pans, the leftovers from chopped up vegetables, empty cans lying around, and a suspicious layer of white powder cluttering every counter and corner of the galley. He shrugged and continued stirring whatever was in the pot.
"I hope whatever you're makin' is good," Han glanced into the pot that contained a thick broth. It did smell quite appetizing.
Chewie retrieved a bowl, and Han swiped a taste of the soup when his best friend's back was turned. His stomach rumbled in appreciation. Chewie turned around and dropped a ladle full of his creation into the bowl. He handed Han a spoon and the bowl. Han smiled. Chewie had never been this polite where food was concerned.
"Thanks," Han dipped the spoon into the bowl.
Chewbacca stopped him with a firm gruff and then proceeded to give him directions.
"What?" Han dropped the spoon into the bowl and a bit of it splashed onto his shirt. "She doesn't want me around, and I doubt she'll eat it anyway."
Chewie humphed, and Han glared at him, "Why don't you give it to her?"
Chewie's brow lifted and he waved his hands around the galley.
"Have the droids clean it."
Chewie gorluffed and then scratched the back of his head in the way Han did when he was frustrated or reluctant to deal with something.
"Why'd ya' make them do inventory of our supplies?" Han growled. "We definitely have enough supplies to reach Sullust."
Chewbacca turned away from Han and began putting the dirty pots and pans in the washer.
"Fine," Han grunted, took the bowl with him, and stormed out of the galley.
When Han reached the doorway of his cabin, he expected a very cold and regal princess working on a datapad. Instead, he found a girl curled up in a ball.
"Hey, Your Worship. Brought you somethin' to eat."
Leia didn't respond, and Han rolled his eyes. He walked over to her and discovered she was sleeping. Han ran his finger over the scar on his chin as he debated whether or not to wake her. He looked over his shoulder at the door. Chewie must have known she was asleep. Han knew Chewie had been looking in on Leia throughout the day. That damn Wookie was up to something.
But as Han gazed upon the girl, the anger and hurt she recently inspired slightly dulled, and her wellbeing once again overrode everything. Han touched her shoulder and then caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. He frowned when he discovered that her skin was sticky with dried tears. Why was she crying? Stupid question. Luke.
"Leia, sweetheart, wake up," he stroked her cheek again.
To Han's surprise her eyes fluttered open, and still clutching Han's parka to her chest, she rolled onto her back.
Her brow knitted, "Han?"
"Chewie thought you might be hungry," Han held the bowl of soup up so she could see it. "He made it special for you. It should settle your stomach."
Leia blinked a couple of times and the pushed herself into a seated position. Han put the bowl down and helped her lean against the wall to make her more comfortable. She stared at the bowl and hugged the parka to her chest. Han held out the bowl with the spoon resting inside, ready to bolt once she took it.
But she didn't take it. Han shifted his weight between his feet. He didn't expect her to eat it, but the usual fire she displayed every time the issue of her eating habits came up never happened.
"Here, take it," he ordered. "Dump it down the toilet if you don't wanna eat it. I don't care just as long as Chewie thinks you ate it."
Leia pulled her knees up to her chest but said nothing.
Han closed his eyes for a moment, "Why don't you try it, see if you like it. Can't hurt."
Leia reached out and took the bowl from him, but her hand shook, causing its contents to slosh around. Han grimaced and took the bowl out of her hand before she spilled it.
The girl gazed upon him. Her eyes were red and glassy. Han cursed himself; she was his weakness and he didn't know how to conquer it. He sat on the bed, one bent leg resting against her and the other on the ground to keep him stable. Han scooped up some soup with the spoon. He lifted it and held it up to her mouth. Leia continued to stare at him, but just when Han was about to give up, she opened her mouth. Han slipped the spoon into her mouth and she took in the spoonful of soup.
"Like it?"
The princess nodded, and with a touch of enthusiasm Han scooped up some more soup, held it up to her mouth, and allowed her lips to close over the metal utensil. Then he pulled it out of her mouth, her lips still closed over the spoon so that she took in every drop of the soup. Han took slow steady breaths as if he was afraid at any moment he'd scare her or anger her. He continued to gather the thick soup onto the spoon and wait until she seemed ready to accept another from him. As fed her, he took notice of her red rimmed eyes and pink cheeks. The tip of her nose was red as was the skin above her upper lip. Leia looked younger than her years, and Han's heart sank at her child-like appearance. He wanted to hold her and rock her and stroke her hair and cheeks. He wanted to comfort her, assure her that everything would be okay even if she knew that was a lie.
But Han had already failed her, and he wouldn't try again. When Leia finished the entire bowl of soup, Han dropped the spoon into the bowl and it clatter against its ceramic sides.
He sighed as he gazed upon her, "Why don't you come on out and join Chewie and me for a game of Sabaac. The droids are doing inventory so Threepio won't be annoyin' us with his constant talking."
"No thank you," she whispered. "I'm tired."
Han frowned as Leia settled into the same position in which he found her. He got up and left her without another word.
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Princess Leia woke up with a start. There was something she just had to do and had to do it right at this moment. However, she had no idea what it was. She shoved the bedcovers off of her, and her eyebrows knitted together. She was wearing the shirt she took from Han a while ago, the shirt she usually slept in. Leia's eyes rushed around the room until her eyes fell upon Han's parka which lied beside her. She breathed easier as her hand stroked the coat. Leia dropped her feet to the ground and noticed they were warmed by a pair of think socks. Her hair hung in her face as she looked down at the ground. She gathered it up and twisted it into a knot at the nape of her neck.
Leia bit her lip. Did someone dress her for bed? She closed her eyes and reviewed the day. After Han gave her the soup, she didn't go to sleep although she remained lying on top of the bedcovers thinking about life without Han. Then what? She remembered that her T-shirt and shorts were constricting and not very comfortable for sleep. She exhaled and smiled as she realized that she was the one who dressed herself for bed. It seemed like everyone was doing everything for her, which only made her feel worse.
But none of that mattered; there was something she was supposed to do. Leia practically jumped off the bed and hurried to the door. She peered out, twisting her head to the left and to the right twice. Leia's chest tightened. Whatever it was she had to do, she had to do it alone. She looked over her shoulder at the chronometer. No one should be up at this time. She focused her senses and was greeted with nothing but silence.
Confident she was the only conscience being on the ship, Leia rushed down the corridor with delicate steps. Although unsure why, she went straight to the cockpit and placed her hand on the security lock. It zipped open, and Leia held her breath expecting Han and Chewie to come running down the corridor to stop her. She couldn't let them stop her.
When she was certain no one was alerted by the opening of the cockpit door, Leia rushed to the console beneath the canopy in front of the co-pilot's seat. Her chest rose up and down as her hands rested upon the console and her eyes stared at the glowing lights. Everything became clear. She closed her eyes and followed her heart.
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Han Solo woke with a start. Something was not right. No, something was very wrong. Damn! What a time for somethin' to go wrong, but what did he expect? Nothing ever worked out the way things were supposed when Luke and Leia were around. He cringed at his thought. It would be hard to think of Leia without Luke. Maybe Leia was right. Maybe he did need to leave the first moment he got.
Han looked at Chewie who slept soundly. Then he closed his eyes and listened carefully. His eyes popped open. The engines sounded less smooth and a lot louder. When the Falcon was in hyperspace it whispered gently and slid though space as if it skated on ice. There were more creaks and moans when it flew in subspace. Only Han, who knew and loved the ship more than anything, could tell the difference.
He yelled at Chewbacca as he raced to the cockpit. Chewie rolled over in his sleep. When Han reached the cockpit he stormed in and then stopped.
"What the hell are ya' doin'!" Han yelled. "Why'd ya' shut down the hyperdrive?"
Princess Leia didn't turn around. She didn't move from her position in front of the co-pilot's seat. Her eyes remained wide and focused on the console.
"Everything's going too fast," she rushed her words.
"Not anymore," Han took two long strides over to reverse Leia's work.
"Nothing ever slows down," she continued as if he didn't speak. "It just keeps going and going and going, and it just gets faster and faster. It's never going to stop." She swallowed, "I can't breathe. There's no time to breathe."
Han placed his hands on the back of the co-pilot's seat.
"There's no time for anything. No time to live," she whispered.
Han knew this day would happen, the day with the stoic Princess Leia broke. He had always hoped he wouldn't be around to witness it. At the same time, he wouldn't want anyone else there but him. He knew how important her public image was to her. And as long as he was in her life, he would always protect her, even from herself.
"Leia…" Han hoped his quiet tone would catch her attention.
The princess turned around, and her large brown eyes glistened as they caught the multicolor lights on the walls of the cockpit. "Han?"
He captured her attention, but he didn't know what to say. Are you okay? seemed insufficient. He would have put his hands in his pockets, but he was wearing just his boxers. He felt hopeless and sick as if he just lost the most important Sabaac game in his life and everything that ever mattered to him was going to be taken away.
Leia finally looked over her shoulder at him, "There's never enough time, Han. Can you feel it?"
Han's mouth opened and closed like a caught simian fish. What answer was she looking for? Did he even have the answer?
The girl didn't give him time to answer. Leia climbed up on Chewie's chair and threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against Han's. Taken by surprise and confusion, his eyes remained open as he tried to register what was happening. Was this part of her breakdown? Should he pull her off of him?
Leia's hands massaged his head and she leaned against him as she continued kissing him. Han's eyes involuntarily closed and his brain shut down. His hands wrapped around her tiny waist and slid up and down her back. He pulled her closer, and the sensation of her breasts, warm beneath the thin shirt she wore and pressing against his bare chest, was almost more than he could bear. Leia then jumped over the back of the chair and wrapped her legs around his waist. Han barely had time to catch her. Her legs remained tight around him, but he slid his arms over her thighs and under the silky material of her panties to give her more support.
Leia tightened her grip on Han's neck, and laid her head on his shoulder.
"I'm so selfish," she wailed. "I don't want you to leave me."
Solo's breath caught in his throat. "How is that selfish?" he asked when he found his voice.
"But you have to leave," she started to cry and her words were punctuated with gasps.
"Maybe…," Han slightly rocked her as he whispered, "maybe I don't have to leave."
"You need to heal," she shook her head. "You won't if you stay."
"Whadda bout you?" he removed one arm that supported her and slightly leaned back to counteract her weight. Then he wrapped his free arm around her back and cradled the nape of her neck in his hand. "What do you want?"
"For you not to hurt," she whispered in a child-like voice.
"Stop thinking about me!" Han snapped, but tightened his hold on her. "Stop thinking about what everyone else wants for once!" He sighed and lowered his voice, "What do you want?"
"Don't leave me," Leia buried her face in his neck, and her hot tears burned his skin.
"I never wanted to," Han closed his eyes and the tension that held every muscle in his body hostage melted away.