Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm. My only profit from writing this story was awakening the force within myself! The entire story is written, so I'll be posting as quickly as I can edit. Please review, fav, or follow if it speaks to you.

Note: I've been reading some fic lately and I totally get how hard it is to see your favorite characters go through tough times. Like it physically hurts. I've really put you guys through the ringer with this story, and I guess I can't completely blame JJ Abrams. All I can tell you is that it came directly from my heart and I have tried to do justice to all of these amazing characters (except maybe Luke...I feel bad about what I've done to Luke). Anyway, I hope you're still enjoying the journey and I love hearing from you! As a creative in multiple disciplines, I adore feeling connected to my audience.

He'd forgotten how to do this. As he walked out of the Falcon in the cool, refreshing air of Takodana, he felt his nerves start to thrum with energy. There was something about this girl. Something he didn't want to let slip through his fingers. But, it had been so long since he'd had to be gentle, since he hadn't broken everything he'd touched.

There had been a time when he'd been a true master with Leia. When they were so in sync that one word from him, one well-placed touch could calm her, soothe her, or set her on fire. For that oh-so-brief time - ten years or so - he'd been the happiest man alive.

Now his hands felt old and clumsy, arthritic literally and metaphorically. All they were good for was making a quick getaway, mopping up blood. Gripping a blaster.

"You might need this." He held the grenade of a gun out to the little scavenger. It packed quite a wallop and would protect her better than any of the other junk left in the Falcon.

"I think I can handle myself," she said, all arrogance and skepticism.

He let the rogue come out for just a moment, sensing it would play better with this audience.

"I know you do," he tossed back at her, "That's why I'm giving it to you. Take it."

The tactic worked and she grasped the gun, pointing it in a way that screamed novice. She looked cocky, proud, completely unaware of her fumble.

Such a little warrior.

"You know how to you use one of those?"

"Yeah, you pull the trigger," she answered with practiced nonchalance.

"A little more to it then that." He put his hand on the gun, lowering it towards the ground and subtly flicking the safety into place before she hurt herself. Gods, she was green. So much greener than she thought she was. "You got a lot to learn."

He looked out at the lake, remembering what he'd told her. Enough water to drown in. He'd loved lakes once. Well, one in particular. The swell of emotion he was feeling had to be mixed up with those memories and not this little stranger bouncing on the balls of her feet next to him.

"You got a name?"

She didn't hesitate.

"Rey."

No.

That couldn't be right.

She couldn't have said—

Rey, she thought and he voiced.

"I didn't name her, my friend. You did…"

His mouth was moving before the rest of him could even process it.

"I've been thinking about bringing on some more crew." Rey. "A first mate, someone to help out, someone who can keep up with Chewie and me and appreciates the Falcon."

"Are you offering me a job?"

She looked startled like she might flit away if he moved too quickly.

Back off, Solo.

"I wouldn't be nice to you. Doesn't pay much."

She liked this, beginning to preen.

"You're offering me a job."

A bit of color rose in her cheeks and a familiar smirk tugged at her lips.

"I'm thinking about it," he groused.

Where did you come from, Rey?

A little crease appeared between her brows and the sunny expression faded from her face. He felt his own being cloud over as he watched her retreat.

"Well?"

She swallowed and he could almost imagine he knew what she was feeling. Rising hope ruthlessly suppressed, a weighty pull of sorrow and longing bogging her down.

"If you were, I'd be flattered. But I have to get home."

"Where? Jakku?" His throat tightened, the newborn attachment already turning affection into fear.

"I've already been away too long…" She was determined. He could feel her steeliness, familiar with Leia's brand for half his life.

He wouldn't get anywhere by pushing. But their journey wasn't over. If they'd made this much progress in a couple hours, who knew where they'd be by the time they got this droid back to…

"Chewie!" he shouted to drown out his thumping heart, "Check out the ship as best you can." When he turned back to her he had his best sabacc mask on.

"That's too bad. Chewie kind of likes you."

"Who's the girl?"

Han tried to keep his mask on, but he couldn't stop his eyes from following her. The children were arguing. The only face he could see was the boy's. It must be the truth that was coming out, if his pained expression and the tenseness in her shoulders had anything to say about it.

He didn't know whether he was relieved or saddened about the girl's impending loss. He quashed the voice that tried to say he should be nothing. No. He could feel it. He could feel his heart wanting to leap out of his body and into that little frame. He needed to comfort her, to protect her, to never let her our of his sight.

"You know," Maz said, her voice sounding centuries older than it had mere moments ago.

He looked back at the little woman – if that's what she really was - and only nodded. There was no keeping things from Maz. He'd learned that back at the beginning, before Leia, before he'd even made a name for himself. She said she'd seen something in him. He'd scoffed at the time, but talked to her until the sunrise. He'd met Chewie soon after and the two of them had made many stops at Takodana in the years before his life with Leia.

If he had ever known anyone that could see the future (before Luke), it was Maz.

"What's going to happen to her?"

Maz shook her head.

"It doesn't work that way, Han. The future isn't written in stone."

"Isn't it?"

Maz shook her head again, looking at him with pity in her strange, old eyes. He hated that look.

"She will face terrible things and wonderful things. Just like you."

The boy broke away and headed out the door. Rey stared after him and Han almost followed, the sight of her tear-filled brown eyes still so fresh. But the scene was too familiar; it cut too close. He felt the pain - of longing, of dashed hopes, of despair - slice through him. Was it his pain or hers? A warm wave, subtle but strong, moved through him, soothing the ache. The feeling wasn't romantic, not really. More maternal, nurturing.

He tried to share it with the girl, but she was already moving away. Probably wanted to be alone.

"She says she's going back to Jakku."

"The junkyard?"

"Yeah. That's where she was…" his heart was breaking, and Leia was flooding in.

Maz closed her eyes, humming a little. He'd stopped questioning her methods long ago.

"She's waiting for someone. The one who left her there."

"Who—?"

But suddenly he felt the world come apart. He sprang up from the table, unsure where he was going. Rey was terrified, in some sort of trouble.

Strange flashes sprang into his consciousness. They were barely visible, like the flickering static of an broken holo, each one coming too fast to make any sort of sense.

"Han?" Maz's voice cut through the fog of fear and confusion.

He was about to answer, to break out of this blind rush, when one image hit him square between the eyes. Bodies littering the ground, stretching for morbid metims in all directions, and a great fire blazing up into a midnight sky.

Small but strong hands griped his forearms and pulled him back into his seat.

"What do you see, my friend?"

He looked sightlessly into Maz's eyes, still caught in that horrible memory. But it wasn't his, it was-

"Rey," he said, so quietly only Maz could hear.

"I'll go to her. Get a grip, Han. You'll scare her."

With a slight squeeze, the little alien ducked away.

He tried to calm himself as the vision lingered behind his eyes. He wanted a drink, and he knew he could get one. But, the thought of Rey kept him glued to his seat. She trusted him. He could see it in her too-wide eyes. And for the moment - for this long, brutal moment - he couldn't imagine disappointing her.

Again.

He dropped his head into his hands, searching himself for some quiet spot, some haven from this current storm. Han had never really had that. Before and after Leia, the only place he could find peace existed in the midst of action. Then his mind would quiet, his fears would subside. But, here, frozen between the past and the future, he was at the mercy of his ever-insistent demons.

Just as he felt himself starting to succumb, another memory stirred. Those early mornings, late into his life on Naboo, when he'd watch the dawn stealing over the water and he'd felt such wonder, such incandescent joy. That had been love. Love for his family, love for existence, and maybe just a little bit of love for himself. It wasn't a whole hell of a lot different then how he'd felt with Rey throughout this heady day.

All the chances that he thought were lost, all the words that he ever wanted to say. Somehow, they weren't dead and buried. Somehow, they were here with her. And what was he doing? Brooding like some goddamn coward? He needed to see her, he needed to tell her everything before it was too late.

He turned to where he thought she was, only to be blocked by a rush of bodies and an avalanche of emotion. Leia's presence surged forward once again pummeling him with fear, anger, crushing sorrow. He didn't know which way to turn. Rey's terror was fading into confusion. But, Leia's was growing, pulling him along with the crowd until he was standing outside the castle staring up at the sky along with everyone else.

In the innocent blue four or five swaths of red stood out. They didn't look so scary, just little flares almost indistinguishable. But, he'd been around long enough to know they were bad.

Leia.

Leia.

Leia!

She didn't answer, but he felt her emerge through fog of his own fear. Frantic, determined, subtly relieved.

She wasn't one of those swaths. But she could have been. Gods, she could have been and he would never have seen her again.

"It was the Republic. The First Order. They've done it. Where's Rey?"

Without answering the young man, he turned on his heel and dashed inside. The main floor was virtually empty now, so he had no trouble getting to the stairs he'd seen her descend minutes ago.

Maz stood at the bottom, waiting for them. He suddenly knew, with a sinking feeling, that Rey wasn't there. He tried to focus, tried to feel where she'd gone, but the little alien was beckoning them forward.

"Come, come, there's something you must bring her."

His curiosity won out and he hustled behind her.

"I've had this for ages…"

The world rocked once more as he caught sight of the object in her grasp. A shudder of revulsion, of panic, of sickness went through him. He hadn't seen one of those since—

"Where did you get that?"

"A good question for another time. Take it! Find your friend!"

Han almost argued, almost grabbed the thing and dashed it to pieces, but the room suddenly shook violently and they were all nearly tossed off their feet. Maz looked suddenly fearful. If Maz was scared, things were about to get hairy.

"Those beasts! They're here!"

He started to shout for them to stay put but the thunderous explosions drowned his voice out. He looked up at the ceiling and saw a spiderweb of cracks spreading across it like some strange tumor. He felt a bolt of shock. This castle had been here for almost five centuries. Surely it wouldn't—

A hunk of rock hit the floor narrowly missing Chewie.

"GO!"

They raced up the stairs toward the front entrance, but it was like they were running across a landslide, the stones were jumping and dancing, crashing down into the bowels of the castle.

In an absurd moment of detachment, he wanted to turn to Maz and tell her this place wasn't up to code. Something hard hit him in the chest and knocked some sense back into him. This might be it. He might be buried alive before he could tell her, before he could say goodbye.

The thought pushed him forward as well as Leia's sudden panic. He felt energy flow through him, guiding him. Jump right, push there, dig, dig, dig…and suddenly the sky was there again. But this time it wasn't blue. The slashes of red had bled into the scene of a battle already raging.

Rey.

He looked for her, appreciating not for the first time that his eyesight was still as good as ever. But, she was no where to be seen.

"C'mon, Chewie!"

He didn't know where he was going exactly. But, he followed his gut, and realized he was headed for the woods. He could sense the pulses of her terror emanating like radar blips from the Falcon.

The stormtroopers were numerous but dumb. As always. If he wasn't sick with worry for his little scavenger he would be enjoying the action. No matter how old he got, he was always up for good fight.

The boy wasn't having as easy a time. He'd drawn the lightsaber and was losing terrifically to one of the less idiotic troopers. Han could feel her pull, growing stronger. Though he wasn't sure which of his women he was feeling now. He had no connection to this boy. Anyway, he wasn't worthy of her. He was a liar. A coward.

Who'd get one more chance to prove him wrong.

"You okay?"

The boy looked up at him with wide, earnest eyes. For a flick, he could see what Rey must see.

"Don't move! TK-338, we have targets in custody."

Check.

No matter how stupid these berks were they still had guns. Lots and lots of them.

Han's mind raced as he followed their orders, hands braced behind his head. They'd taken his blaster and Chewie's bowcaster, but he still had a vibroblade tucked into his belt. If he just reached down, he could take a few of them out, give Chewie a chance to go bezerk, maybe give the kid a shot at breaking loose to find his—

Don't you dare.

It was Leia's voice, clear as a bell, reverberating through his mind.

His eyes widened. This was new.

Before he could answer, a dull roar caught his attention. It drowned out the shouting voice of the commander to his right and the startling new phenomenon in his head.

"It's the Resistance."

If he'd had a second to think, he would have marveled at the timing. He would have praised the Gods for the first time in nineteen years. But he didn't. He grabbed his blaster and got to work.

"Quick!"

He could feel her terror. His littlest bird was caught in some sort of trap. Her heart beat frantically against his ribs and pumped his limbs full of adrenaline. He blasted his way through the remaining troopers, turning instinctually toward where he knew she'd be.

What he saw froze his blood and his body in its tracks.

A tall warrior in all black strode toward what was obviously the commander's shuttle. He didn't look in Han's direction. He had the singleminded gait of a man who has just won a battle.

Ben.

It could have been anybody really. But it wasn't.

He may be swathed in darkness, taller than he'd ever seen him, but Han knew his boy.

And he was carrying his sister in his arms.

There was a moment, a crystalline flick, in which he could have called out, bellowed at the top of his lungs and possibly cut through the blasts and the enemy fire. He could feel Leia coming, she was getting closer by the second. If he stopped him, if they were all together at the same time, in the same place…

But in the space of the thought, Ben was gone. Up the ramp and out of Han's life once again.

"He took her! Did you see that? He took her. She's gone!" The kid's frantic voice hammered his ears.

"Yeah, yeah, I know…" Where he had been frantic just seconds ago, he felt all the energy drain out of him. There was nothing they could do. Not now. Their best shot was her.

He pushed past the kid, almost stumbling over a body in his path.

All he could see as he waited for her ship to touch down was the way Ben had held Rey against his chest. With startling tenderness. Like a babe. Had he recognized her immediately? With that power of his? What would he do if he had?

Han couldn't make heads or tails of the tornado inside him. Part of him was terrified for her. Oh, he'd heard it all. No matter how far he tried to run, the rumors would still reach him. Every atrocity had pummeled his heart until it resembled nothing more than a pile of ground nerf. He could never have imagined the things Ben was capable of. Not his boy.

Sometimes he would think of them that way, separating them in his mind. The sweet, smart little rascal who'd stolen his heart from day one, flying the Falcon with him, making him feel like he was a hero. And the villain, the specter who'd stole that son's identity and wore it like a mask.

But seeing him just now, recognizing the set of his shoulders, the swing of his step, the slight thoughtful pause before he'd ascended. He couldn't trick himself into thinking it wasn't still Ben.

Kylo Ren wouldn't hesitate to kill a nameless little scavenger once he had what he wanted. But Ben? What would he do?

Suddenly, in the face of everything else, facing the love of his life didn't seem so terrifying.

The transport door opened and a nameless passel of soldiers hurried out, scattering into the scene behind him. His heart slammed against his chest as if rattling its cage. Guess it still had some life in it after all.

Before he could take another breath, Leia emerged, eyes lighting up despite herself, familiar features relaxing ever-so-slightly. And, as he took her in, the strangest thing happened.

His heart slowed down, the planet stopped turning, the universe quit expanding.

Oh.

As always, there was an interruption. The gold droid, C-PPO or whatever his name was, started babbling. But Han was almost thankful for the momentary reprieve.

He'd just realized something.

Something monumental.

He was never leaving her again.

He wouldn't be able to. Not now that they were breathing the same air, finally sharing the same space again.

He supposed he'd always known that. And it was part of the reason he'd stayed away. But now, having seen her with his waking eyes once more, he knew he'd found his lost fate.

As the truth of it set into his bones, pumped through his blood, straightened his spine, the droid finished his comedy routine and puttered away, off to bother someone else.

They looked at each other. The resurrected bond, that had brought her here, that had saved his life a couple times in last few minutes, was oddly silent. They didn't need it for the moment.

She was breathtaking. Older than he had ever seen her, but so close to how he had imagined. When she came to him in dreams, she was never older than when they'd parted. But her dark hair had lightened into a gray that was almost gold, as if stardust had fallen in it and refused to come out. It was wrapped around her head, long once again, crowning her like a queen.

"You changed your hair."

He felt her burst of amusement tickle through him at that.

"Same jacket," she teased.

"No," he fought a smile, "new jacket." Figures they'd jump right back into the middle of it. His heart twisted a little as he remembered those early tiffs. The sweet stretch of years when their greatest bone of contention was his refusal to get new clothes.

Chewie must have thought the subject absurd as well. He lumbered forward and scooped Leia up into a Wookiee hug.

[Go easy on him, Princess. He's an old fool.]

Leia smiled at this, though the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

He wanted to reach for her, to touch her with the same ease that Chewie had, but something held him back.

That was the understatement of the century. There were a million somethings between them now.

But he reached for the original one. The one that had broken them in the first place.

"I saw him. Leia, I saw our son. He was here."

The smile faded completely and for the first time, he saw how much she'd aged. The lines that had been so subtle when he'd left were now unmistakable. Her figure was fuller, making her seem solid, more grounded than before. He didn't have the feeling she'd float away as easily. And when she spoke again, her voice was rougher, reedier, as if raw from weeping.

"This looks like his work," she said, referring to the smoldering ruin behind him. "He doesn't like to leave things unfinished. No survivors."

The words were cool and clinical, like she was describing a set of blue prints rather than a human tragedy. He wanted to say he was surprised, but he wasn't. This was how she coped.

He'd had enough time in their years apart to put that much together. When he was embroiled in the death throes of their marriage, when he was up to his elbows in her, he couldn't think straight. Her iciness had seemed like cruelty. Her withdrawal had seemed like heartlessness.

But he knew better now. Especially as he felt her searing heartbreak though their bond. It was the only way she wouldn't crumble. The only way she could keep going.

"I'm only surprised we got here in time," she continued, as a few soldiers hustled some injured aliens onto the shuttle behind her. "Usually, he works fast."

Han swallowed, feeling the swell of opportunity. This was his moment. Leia looked at him strangely, narrowing her brown eyes, feeling the swirl of nervous emotion along with him.

"I think…" his throat tightened around the words, but he pushed on, "he got what he came for…"

But his words were lost as another body came between them, this one very different than the harmless golden droid. Han was confused at first as the pilot, dressed in orange, standing with his back to him, peppered Leia with words like he'd peppered the landscape with hail fire a few flicks ago.

Leia spoke to him quietly, calm mask firmly in place, and he slowed down, finally turning to see Han.

"General Solo," he said. His tone was professional; his face was anything but.

Han frowned at him, not having heard that name in ages. The last person to call him that had been Josh, and he hadn't seen him in years.

"There's only one General here, kid." The youngish man bristled a bit at this, but covered it. Han looked over at Leia to find her eyes on him. He couldn't read anything in their brown depths, but he felt a thin stream of annoyance and…was that insecurity?

"Poe," the pilot said, sticking out a hand, "Poe Dameron."

Han almost ignored him, thinking this was about the worst time for polite introductions. But the feel of Leia's gaze, and that little bit of doubt he sensed from her, made him take the proffered mitt.

He felt some relief from her at this and only then wondered why she cared so much. Who was this man to her?

"Poe is Shara's son, Han. Remember her from our Rebel Days?"

One thing he could say about the man was he most definitely did not have a sabacc mask. He was obviously displeased by what Leia had said, his shoulders stiffening and his eyes flashing just a bit.

"Where are you joining us from, Captain Solo?" It was Han's turn to bristle. "It's been a long time since you were part of the cause."

Alright. That was definitely a dig. "I've been a part of this cause since before you were born, kid."

"Yeah," Poe nodded, "that was a long time ago, wasn't it?"

Leia shook her head, knowing a male pissing contest when she saw one.

"Poe," she said, "do a final sweep with your team and take up the rear as we head back to base. I'm not convinced the First Order is done here. They may send reinforcements to finish the job."

She didn't say please, and his surly demeanor immediately dropped. He turned toward her and gave her a decorous nod before striding away from them. But Han sensed the slight hesitation before he left and caught the pilot's furtive glance over his shoulder as he moved away.

He felt the old monster stir inside of him, it's green eyes blinking blearily at this new reality.

She was looking at him. He wasn't sure she'd taken her eyes off of him since she'd walked out of that transport. He almost asked her about the pilot, he almost exhumed that old argument. But, she was here. She was right here with him, her brown eyes and her exposed heart so full.

Answers could wait. Maybe forever.

"What were you saying, Han?"

He'd meant to tell her everything about the chance encounter, the startling bond, the name that they both knew, but…

"The girl who found the droid," he said, hating himself. "He took her. Shouldn't be too long until he sees the piece of the map its carrying. We'd better get back to your base and beat him to it."

The moment had passed. If he said it, if he admitted to Leia the earth-shattering truth, she wouldn't look at him like that anymore. She'd hate him again. Like she had on that awful day, the day that had stolen his life, his sanity, and his very soul.

The day she'd made him leave.

Continued In Chapter 26