Thank you for all the love :) How will they ever move past this? Let's find out! ;)
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Han's hands were shaking as he poured a generous portion of whiskey into two glasses. He quickly downed one, grimaced at the burning in his throat then refilled the glass. Turning away from the counter, he leaned back, closed his eyes, and ran a hand down his face.
It felt as if he were trembling on the inside also. Never had he been so scared of anything in his life as he had been at Leia's reaction to what happened with Waverly.
And what had Waverly even said? There wasn't even much to tell.
Why, why, why did Leia have to find out about it? It had been so inconsequential. Han had forgotten all about it until Leia mentioned her name.
It was amazing how a few minutes could almost ruin his life. Thank all the Gods that he hadn't gone through with it. He never could have looked her in the eye and denied it.
He picked up the filled glasses and slowly walked back to the cabin. He was scared. Scared that Leia might change her mind and leave; scared that she would never come back; and scared that he wouldn't be forgiven.
He didn't think he had ever felt so insecure. With Leia or anyone else. Having volunteered to sleep in the crew quarters, he now desperately hoped that she wouldn't hold him to that. He needed the reassurance of her presence. Otherwise, he would feel as if he were hanging over the abyss all night, praying not to fall. As things stood, it seemed it would be some time before things were back to normal between them. But, at least she had agreed to stay. Had she left, Han would have felt hopeless.
He paused outside the cabin door, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply through his nose. After a moment's pause, he exhaled slowly through his mouth. Unfortunately, it did nothing to ease the knots in his stomach or still the excessive pounding of his heart. When was the last time he had been so nervous with Leia?
Dagobah, he realized. When she had been so broken and angry that she had pushed him away with such vehemence that it had crushed him. Then, he had done nothing to deserve it, had been only a victim of circumstances. Now, he knew he had fucked up. He was just glad he had retained the presence of mind not to fuck up even worse.
With a sigh, he used his shoulder to hit the panel that opened the cabin door. It swept aside and he entered, his heart somewhere in the vicinity of his throat.
Their bunk was not large. But somehow, sitting alone and looking so forlorn, Leia looked very small. It brightened his spirits momentarily when he noticed that that she was on her side of the bunk, rather than in the middle, dismissing him. Then again, perhaps that had only been out of habit.
She was wearing one of her white sleepgowns, the one that was reserved for when they had visitors aboard. It left everything to the imagination and was far from Han's favorite. The fact that she had chosen that particular gown was not lost on him.
She looked up at him briefly as he entered then turned her eyes away. She took the proffered glass from him silently and, as Han held his in his hand, he felt the craziest urge to raise his glass and clink it against hers, in some semblance of normalcy. How many times had he done just that, followed by some silly toast?
He was surprised when, before he could move, Leia threw back the whiskey in one long swallow. She placed her glass on the small table beside the bunk and abruptly noticed his open stare.
For a split second, things felt normal again. Leia raised one eyebrow at him and he smiled slightly. e nHeHer eyes lowered and her expression dimmed.
With a sinking disappointment, Han downed his whiskey and placed it on the table beside hers. He watched Leia lay back against her pillow and close her eyes. The silence between them was oppressive and he crossed his arm over his chest, rocking nervously back and forth on his heels. He cleared his throat in apprehension.
"You, uh…want me to go sleep in the crew quarters?" he asked quietly, steeling himself for her response.
She seemed to think about it before shrugging her shoulders, eyes still closed. "It's your bunk."
"It's our bunk," he replied forcefully, frowning.
She shrugged again, expression impassive. Han decided to take that as a 'no.' Feeling uncharacteristically awkward, he turned away and stripped off his clothing, leaving on his undershorts. He normally took them off, but considering her sleepgown, he decided to keep them on.
When he turned back, he saw that Leia had turned on her side, away from him, curling into herself on the far edge of the bed. It wrenched his heart and filled him with a deep, pitiful longing.
Climbing into the bunk, he settled on his back, leaving a space between Leia and himself. He didn't think he had ever felt so lonely and cold in his own bunk. He lay there for a time, just breathing and trying to come to terms with what had happened.
He ached to be close to her but was too afraid to bridge the distance. If she shoved him away, he didn't think he could take it. He had never felt so emotionally fragile.
Everything had been such a whirlwind of strong emotion lately. It felt as if he had been run through a black hole, only to come out the other side in an alternate reality. Things had gone so quickly from holo-perfect to disastrous.
He tried to console himself with the fact that Leia was still here, even if she seemed so far away at the moment. She could have left. Or even told him to leave.
What had he been thinking that night? He hadn't, he acknowledged with a clench of his jaw. Self-pity and alcohol were a powerful mind eraser.
He loved her so deeply…and he had been feeling heartbroken and lost, expecting her to return and tell him they couldn't be together. It had been no easy feat to accept the love and trust that Leia gave him, had been even harder to learn to trust her so completely. The thought of being without her had returned him unwittingly to familiar feelings of the past, when he would not allow himself to truly care for anyone and he relied only on no one. He did not ever want to go back to that remote, desolate existence. He had found life with Leia, had found himself and, finally, a sense of true belonging.
Family.
Han had found family for the first time in his life. And he wanted to cling to it with all his strength.
He was clutched by a sudden need to be close to Leia, the void between them causing him to feel gutted. He took a breath and closed his eyes tightly. Unable to stand it any longer, he slowly rolled his side, facing Leia's back. He took in her small form, agonizing over his actions. With a small scoot closer, he waited to see if she would rebuff him. When nothing happened, he inched closer. Maybe she was asleep?
Gathering all his nerve, he breathed in deeply one last time and closed the gap between them, folding his legs to spoon behind hers, and placing a tentative arm around her torso. He felt her stiffen at his touch and braced himself, ready for her protest.
It never came. Instead, she eventually relaxed within his embrace. He breathed an audible sigh of relief and wound his arm up beneath her cheek, hugging her more tightly, in the familiar position in which they often fell asleep. He closed his eyes and tried to take comfort in this bit of intimacy.
Maybe everything would be okay after all.
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Leia woke in the near darkness of the glow panels, an inexplicable ache in her chest. She felt a chill in the air as the events of earlier assaulted her.
They had fallen asleep intertwined, and she had slept more deeply than usual. She didn't feel him touching her now and refused to turn around. Reaching out with the Force, she detected his presence behind her, foggy and heavy with sleep.
He was probably as exhausted as she had been. With a deep breath, Leia closed her eyes, unable to deal with the torrential feelings swirling within. She longed to return to the comfort of sleep, but the thread was already lost.
She had no idea what was going to happen now. She loved him. Absolutely and without question. That was why this hurt so damned much. But, how would they ever return things to normal between them? At the moment, it felt impossible.
Leia tried to remind herself that he hadn't actually slept with that woman.
The thought made her feel sick again and she sucked in a quick breath, squeezing her eyes shut.
The thought should have brought her comfort, yet did not. He had considered it, had brought her onboard the Falcon with just that intention.
Was she lacking in empathy that she couldn't even imagine the idea? Even if Han had left her for good, it would be unthinkable to immediately consider falling into bed with another man. Was this simply a difference between men and women? Was she being naïve?
Her stomach grumbled and she peeked at the chrono to check the time. She hadn't eaten in close to twenty-four hours, but the thought of food only upset her stomach more.
What if she had never found out? Why had that horrid woman even felt the need to hint at what had happened? She had even exaggerated the circumstances. What did she have to gain by that?
Perhaps Leia was so lost because of her inexperience. Han was her first relationship. Had she idealized things? Was this normal?
With a measure of dread, she turned to her other side to face him, keeping her eyes averted for a long moment before looking at him.
He lay on his back, lips slightly parted, peaceful. Instantly, she pictured Waverly's lips on his and she quickly shut her eyes and forced the image from her mind.
As if sensing her turmoil, Han began to stir, shifting his legs and causing the mattress to dip towards him. Leia opened her eyes and watched him, almost curious about his waking thoughts. One arm rose to cover his eyes momentarily before he turned on his side, facing her. His eyes fluttered open and, for a long moment, they just looked at each other. His expression was no different from any other morning. Then, confusion suddenly stained his eyes and his brow lowered. It hit him in an instant; Leia clearly saw the moment the situation came back to him. His eyes fell from hers and the swift repentance that fell over his visage was severe. She thought she saw his cheeks color a bit as his brow drew sharply downward and his lower lip jutted out.
Leia said nothing but continued to watch him, the wall between them palpable. She couldn't imagine how to banish it.
His eyes rose to hers, reluctant and fearful.
"Good morning," she said, simply to end the moment.
"Morning." His voice was a croak. He cleared his throat, eyes flitting away several times before settling back on her. He looked even more uncomfortable than she felt. "How do you feel?"
Leia's gaze grew inward as she tried to honestly assess herself. "I don't know," she answered truthfully. She seemed to be keeping her feelings at bay, while his were glaringly obvious. She couldn't decide how she felt about that either.
He looked away and swallowed hard. "Okay," he said quietly.
Confused, Leia decided to open herself to his feelings. She couldn't figure out her own; she might as well examine his.
She reached out tentatively through the Force and was instantaneously hit with a wave of deep shame. Beneath that lie anguish and grief that rivaled her own of the night before. It hit her harder than expected and she felt her own shields start to weaken and melt.
He must have seen it in her face because he drew himself closer and placed one light arm around her, as if afraid she might shatter if he held her too tightly. He pressed his lips gently, almost reverently, against her forehead and she closed her eyes against the sweeping emotion that engulfed her. It was too much, too soon.
"I love you so much, Leia," he breathed against her forehead.
She could feel that it was true…his regret and sorrow were real, and he did love her as much as ever.
A gaping hole seemed to form in her chest and the urge to cry almost overwhelmed her again. With a deep, shuddering breath, she held it at bay.
Shuffling a bit closer, his mouth moved near her ear and his warm breath tickled the stray hairs resting against her cheek. "How can I make this better? I'll do anything," he whispered.
What could he do? Leia couldn't think of a thing. But, she knew they would have to work things out. She loved him too much to let this be the end. And they were both so damned sorry.
She sighed. "I need time," she said in a low tone.
"Whatever you need." His voice was soft but rough in the quiet of the cabin.
Since she didn't know what else could be said or done at the moment, Leia did what she always did to avoid pain and discomfort. She focused on work.
"I need to get up," she informed him in an impassive voice. "We have a meeting this morning. It's important. You, Luke, and Chewie need to attend." Before he could respond, she disentangled herself from his grasp and left the bed. As she crossed the room the find some clothes, she cut off her awareness of his feelings. They would be too distracting when there was so much to be done. And, she couldn't manage her own right now, much less his.
As she rifled through her wardrobe, she heard him sit up behind her.
"What's going on?" he asked, taking her lead. His voice almost sounded normal.
Leia pulled out a clean uniform, turned back to him, and made a show of looking it over to avoid Han's eyes.
"Crimson Wave has a plan. First thing we have to do is acquire a set of detailed plans of the Death Star's power core."
"Consider it done." The confidence in his tone drew her eyes to his.
He gave her a tentative smile and she didn't know what to do. She stood for a moment before clutching her uniform to her chest.
"Nine hundred hours. High Command conference room. Bring Chewie."
"Okay." His eyes held a touch of disappointment.
She nodded. "See you then." Quickly, she fled the cabin and the discomfiture. The door slid shut behind her and she trudged down the hall to the refresher.
The upcoming missions should keep them busy enough to distract them from this mess. She sighed deeply and buried her thoughts and feelings, something she hadn't had to do in quite some time.