Chapter Summary: After The Force Awakens Han Solo meets Anakin Skywalker.


When Han came to, he was flat on his face and couldn't quite recall what had lead up to him apparently getting shit-faced. Chewie normally headed that off. He managed to get up on his knee, and…

It was a whole lot of nothing.

No floor. No ceiling. No walls.

Then it all came back to him, and he crumbled up and bawled like an infant.

He failed. He failed his son. He had failed his wife. He had failed the galaxy at large.

"No, you didn't."

Someone was kneeling down beside him and patting his shoulder, then pulling him into their lap like he was child.

"And even if you had, I'm the one who failed first. I can't reach him at all."

Han shook himself and sat up to look at who was trying to comfort him.

A young man, handsome, blue eyes, dark blonde hair, Jedi robes. He looked somewhat familiar, and extremely stricken.

"Hi. I'm Anakin Skywalker. I'm sorta your father-in-law."

Han's jaw dropped open for moment before his decisively shut it again, and snorted:

"Sorta?"

"Yeah," Anakin admitted, with a tight, sad smile, "Bail Organa would have been your real father-in-law. He would have been wary at first; Leia was his little girl. But he would have liked you. He would have been as impressed with you as much I was. Still am."

"Yeah, real impressive," Han hunched in on himself, "I failed as a father and a husband."

He got a light punch to his arm.

"Trust me, you did the best you could and you did light years better than I did," Anakin looked miserable, "I killed my wife out of jealousy, because I thought she was having an affair with my best friend. I destroyed my daughter's whole world, and made her life miserable even after I was dead. Nearly killed her and her brother too many times. And left Luke with a burden he should have never had to shoulder."

"Well, when you put that way," Han chuckled roughly, and noticed the nothing was coalescing into something, somewhere, "still not sure what could impress you or a royal Viceroy. Sure I was one of the best pilots in the galaxy…"

"Bespin," Anakin cut him off, "most people when they saw me, Vader, unexpectedly would have voided themselves and tried to run. You swung Leia behind you and aimed your blaster. No hesitation. No bluffing. No attempt to negotiate. You aimed and took the shot. Not your fault I could deflect it."

"I wasn't going to let you hurt her again," Han was on his feet suddenly, a swell of anger buoying him up, back in the state dining room of Cloud City.

"See? Impressive," Anakin, infuriatingly, smiled as he clambered up to his feet.

Han deflated a bit.

"I still couldn't reach Ben."

"I can't reach Ben at all," Anakin said gently, "you did, you still did, even if he didn't listen. You still could. I can help you reach out to him again."

Han considered.

"There's still hope?"

"There's always hope."


Author's Notes:

This would definitely spin out in a different direction than The Last Jedi or The Rise of Skywalker.

Death has matured Anakin in a way life never did.