Author's note: In my world, Han is too sick to give Luke his send off that we see in ROTJ.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Any other time in her life, Leia would have been beyond patience with that infernal, high pitched sound repeating itself once every standard second or so. Her nerves would be shot to hell, and the machine would be smashed into tiny bits of glass and dura-plast.
But not today. Not now.
That sound was life. It was joy. It was exhilaration.
Beeping meant Han was not dead.
It also represented bone-chilling fear. Beeping meant Han was not anything close to well. Not at all.
He lay so still on the bunk in the medbay of the Falcon, on his back but somewhat elevated in case he woke and needed to vomit again. Eyes closed, lips parched, the skin cracked, mouth slightly open. Once they'd gotten the puking to stop, she and Luke and Chewie had stripped Han of his filthy, reeking clothes and tried to give him a rudimentary cleaning with a bacta topical gel. But, even though unconscious, Han shivered and shook so hard with cold, they had no choice but to stop. Leia could only hope that what gel they had applied to his arms, legs, and torso would counteract any effects of melted carbonite residue absorbing into the skin.
A regulating blanket now covered Han from toes to neck, its sensors reading his body every minute and adjusting its own temperature up or down. Really, he needed to be in a temperature chamber, but that kind of equipment was not anything she'd ever expected to get. When she left the rebellion, there had been only thirty such chambers on Home One for the few thousand people on that ship.
If she hadn't been watching closely, if the beeping wasn't an audial reminder, Leia wouldn't be sure if Han was still breathing. But he was, thank all the Gods in this galaxy and any other. The rise and fall of his chest was so small sometimes, she wondered if she was imagining things. Then that annoying, blessed sound would jolt her back into awareness that he was still with her. Even when he looked like death.
When she'd freed him, when he was brought up from the lower level cells - even when he was standing in the sun on the transport - Han had mostly looked like himself, before he was frozen. Darkly tanned, clean skin, thick russet colored hair, well built and tall. Now he was starting to look like he was deteriorating. She'd applied some of the bacta topical gel to his face and hair a short while ago, after Luke had left and the Falcon had taken off for Sullust. So far, Han's hair had done nothing except get very stiff. But the skin of his face had now turned pale, a sickly sort of whitish grey. There was a flake like texture that reminded her of a bad sunburn set to peel. If it was dead skin already making way for new, healthy growth, then that bacta gel was a medical miracle. But that was not all.
Han was - shrinking. Yes, that was the right word to describe it. The shape of his face, the planes and angles of it were sharper and more pronounced than they had been since yesterday when she'd freed him. It was as if his body was finally becoming aware it had had no sustenance for months, and was catching up to starvation. She could only administer one intravenous fluid at a time, and for now it was the blood cleaner mixed with a strong anti-nausea medication. That had been the only way to stop his vomiting.
For the time it would take them to fly from Tatooine to Sullust, this blanket, the Falcon's fairly advanced medical monitor - and all the bacta supplies - were what Leia would use to care for Han. To keep him alive until they reached the rebellion. Thank Gods they were on the move, having made the jump to hyperspace almost thirty standard minutes ago.
She was absolutely terrified.
So many scenarios run with the med droids on Home One. As much study as on carbonite freezing as she could find, including that horrible, incomplete medical assessment. She'd learned to administer the new bacta products and their various side effects.
And now it was all real. Han was right here. The medical data wasn't theory any more. It was practice now, with potentially devastating consequences. And so much that was unknown.
"In the end, Princess Leia, the absolute best thing will be to get him back to the fleet as soon as possible. Your medical monitor is good, but no comparison to what we can do here. And as you know, there is far too much in the medical history that is inconclusive. We cannot predict how Han will react to anything."
Those were the unsettling words from the med droids, in the days before she left for Tatooine.
Inconclusive.
For a moment, Leia allowed herself to be swamped with memories of the days shortly after Alderaan was destroyed.
It was, barring losing Han, the absolute worst time of her life.
Gone.
Ended.
Her father, her mother, her silly aunts. Lives stopped in seconds.
Cousins, friends, teachers.
Art. Literature. History. Forests. Gardens. Birds singing. A world of beauty and freedom destroyed.
Everything that mattered to her was no more. It was all dead rocks and debris hurtling through space.
She'd wanted to die every second since she knew what Tarkin and Vader would do that day. Yet all the despair she'd felt then would be nothing compared to what would happen if she lost Han now.
In a way, he had saved her, from what she would have become had she not finally trusted him - and herself - enough to let him in on the way to Bespin.
If he didn't make it, what would be the point? She could move through each day a shell of herself, just like she had after Alderaan - except there would no longer be an annoyingly complex scoundrel to challenge her every time she turned around. Eventually the rebellion wouldn't be enough to keep her alive. Even Luke - her friend and confidant, now speeding through space on his way to Dagobah - wouldn't be enough to tether her to life. She would just - fade away.
Why can't you think of what could happen if he makes it? Isn't that also a possible outcome? What if you could have the promise of the trip to Bespin again?
Leia made a noise that might have been a laugh or a sob. She didn't know, and didn't care. If she could remember how awful it felt after Alderaan, she could also enjoy - for a little while, anyway - re-living one of the most precious memories she had of Han.
On the way to Bespin
Leia sat at the holochess table, data pad in hand, scrolling through and updating a list of contacts she had for weapons procurement. There was so little she could do right now, as she was unable to link into the Alliance databases. But this was something she'd needed to do for a while and had not had the time.
But she wasn't seeing the info. She was seeing Han.
It had been a good couple of days for them, since his odd, dismissive behavior and subsequent apology.
Yes, there were things that would have to be dealt with. Han was still planning on leaving to pay off Jabba - and going alone. Leia was still arguing with him about payments and going along. But they were still weeks away from Bespin, and weeks more away from the rebellion. She wanted to enjoy herself. She wanted to feel unencumbered by worry about the future and guilt about the past, if only for a few days.
So she'd agreed with Han to drop the arguments - for now, and to try to embrace the present.
Smiling to herself, she realized she felt good. Better, in fact, than she had in years.
Last night, she'd slept in the same bed with Han for the very first time. Nothing sexual, just cuddling and sleeping. It was the most relaxing thing she never imagined. Lying together with Han in his bunk, both of them clad in thick night wear and wrapped up tight in blankets to keep out the cold. Resting her head on his chest and torso, with his strong arms wrapped around her, talking of almost anything or nothing was blissful.
And she'd slept soundly for nearly eight hours, uninterrupted by nightmares, until she felt Han's morning erection pressing into her lower back as he spooned around her.
"Hey, Your Worship, I can't help it!" he'd groggily exclaimed when she'd teased him about it. "I've got a beautiful princess in my bed!"
"And how many women have you used that line on?" she'd snorted, laughing as she sat up and looked at him. She knew Han had a history with women. And it didn't matter to her now, if it ever had. All the things he'd said to her on this trip, the things he'd done - she had almost no experience with men, but she could tell, could feel, that Han sincerely, truly cared about her. She would stake her life on her gut instinct that she wasn't simply another name to add to a list.
To her surprise, Han didn't respond in kind. He gave her a look that was partly hurt but full of what struck her as longing.
"Only you, Leia. Only you," he'd whispered, reaching up to trace her lips with a finger. "Only ever you."
And then she'd been pulled toward him like a ship stuck in a tractor beam, drowning in the intensity radiating from those golden eyes. She hadn't cared in that moment that she was sprawled ungracefully over his chest, or that her hair was a disastrous tangle - or even that she had morning breath. She only had one desperate need - to meld her lips to his.
The kiss - oh Gods, that kiss! So soft and gentle at first, so light and delicate. It was as if Han was sampling her, and she him. Small tastings. A nibble here, a little nip there. She smiled and sighed his name. Han. And that sound was a trigger, turning sweet kisses into a raging fire. Han had growled and pulled her tight against his hard, ready body, ravishing her mouth with his. She shivered, hard, but not with cold. The sound of her own voice loudly moaning his name had woken her mind to where she was.
"I - I think I'd better get up now," she'd stuttered, blushing, rolling off Han and sitting on the edge of the bed. She'd forced herself to meet his eyes. "I - Han - you make me wish I was ready for more."
Then he'd grinned at her, that same half cocked smile that used to infuriate her, but now made her want to laugh. "We aim to please, sweetheart." He'd winked at her, and she'd shook her head and rolled her eyes.
Coming back to the present, she slammed her hand lightly against the holochess table. Damn that man! He was so - distracting! There was no point in doing any more work with this data. She turned off the pad, and went in search of a scoundrel.
Walking down the main corridor, she felt a little silly. It seemed so girlish and even foolish to abandon work just because she wanted to see a man. This was not a kind of feeling or behavior she had any experience with. But so little in her life the past three years had gone according to any plan. She certainly hadn't expected to be attracted to any man during this war, let alone act on those feelings.
Ever since that first kiss, and the dream ball evening, sometimes she thought she was running headlong into pain and loss, what with Han's determination to leave to pay off that gangster. Who knew what happen then? But she couldn't help it. Couldn't do a thing to stop it. It was as if her decision to act on her feelings for Han had burned down any emotional walls she'd built since Alderaan was destroyed.
The sound of music floated down the hall, and Leia smiled to herself. Aunt Rouge had loved the band Han had playing.
"Oh Leia, dear, it was the most exciting time! The press referred to The Beatles coming to Alderaan as the Chandrilan invasion! Although why they called themselves after a nasty little bug - but the music! And they were so handsome - Paul especially. If the Organa family had not been high ranking, it would have been very difficult to get a ticket to their concerts. People waited in lines for days to pay hundreds of credits!"
A clank of metal on metal startled her, and Leia looked up to see Han spin around in a kind of dance move. His rich baritone mixed with the recording.
"Whoah, we danced through the night,
And we held each other tight,
And before too long I fell in love with her.
Now I'll never dance with another - whooo!
Since I saw her standing there."
Leia's mouth fell open in shock. She'd never heard Han sing. Ever. She didn't know he could. And he sounded really good. Better than some popular singers of the day.
She stepped closer, but Han didn't seem to notice. "I don't think I've ever heard you sing before, flyboy," she said, trying to keep her tone neutral. It was the cutest, sweetest thing she'd ever heard, and she didn't want to mistakenly give the impression she was laughing at him. Han would never, ever do it again - in her presence - if he thought his singing amused her.
He froze, and slowly turned around to face her, hydrospanner gripped tightly in one hand. Leia could see him swallow, looking unsure of himself. "Uh - how long - have you been -"
His stuttering was adorable too. "Long enough," she smiled. "I knew you had the moves, but it seems you also have the pipes."
"Ah. Well. It's a good song. A classic."
"I know. My late Aunt Rouge loved the Beatles." And for some reason, it didn't hurt like she thought it would to share that with anyone. It felt odd - but healing - to tell Han even that much about the family that was gone.
"Aunt Rogue had good taste in music, then."
"Yes, she did." Leia stepped forward. "It's not your normal thing, to break out into song."
"When it's just me and Chewie, I might. And like I said, it's good music." There was that grin - except that it wasn't cocky. Han looked happy. "In spite of the mechanical difficulties, things are going well. Better than I imagined."
Leia knew exactly what he meant. The two of them. "I couldn't agree more." She went closer, on tip-toe, and gave Han a kiss on the cheek. "I liked your singing, nerf-herder," she said, grinning at his dumbfounded expression.
"You did?"
"Well, yes, I just said I did! And you know I don't compliment unless I really mean it."
"I know. So - what else do you like about me?"
"What! Fishing for more compliments? More than one in day will just inflate that oversized ego."
"Hey, Your Beautifulness, you don't compliment often. I'll take what I can get."
Leia rolled her eyes as Han put the hydrospanner down and wrapped his arms around her. "Well, you do have good moves," she laughed.
"I'll show you some moves, sweetheart," Han murmured, bending to kiss her.
Smiling through tears, Leia reached up and gently ran a hand over Han's arm, covered in the blanket.
"Don't you dare make me do this without you, nerf-herder," she whispered. "I want to hear you sing again."
Author's note - an idea came to me that felt right and I went with it. I don't see Han as a guy who would spend a lot of time singing in general, or make a habit singing to his lady. But I can see him feeling really, really good getting closer to Leia - feeling happy and excited like never before. Thence comes the expressing some of that unexpected joy as he listened to music while he worked in on the Falcon.
