The shock, the total lack of– of having any clue what to say, what to think, how to respond– was mutual. For a moment, Leia and Han held each other's gazes, both reflecting equal terror.

"You're –?" Han managed, and it was the first sound from either of them. And it came sooner than Leia had predicted, but she supposed it was only like Han to prefer anything over silence in such an uncomfortable moment. He shook his head as if to clear it. "Leia …"

"I didn't think it would actually come back positive." Words. All of a sudden, they were rushing out of her. "I– I don't know what I was expecting, but I was thinking, and I know you've been worried about my nausea, and I didn't think there was any harm in taking a test, but …" She cut herself off, suddenly out of breath, nearly panting. She forced herself to keep Han's gaze, stare back into those hazel eyes. "I guess I'm pregnant."

Leia didn't think Han had even blinked since she'd started talking, and it only stressed her more. That was the first time she'd said the word aloud, and he wouldn't respond. She could feel herself crumbling, shattering into millions of tiny, irretrievable pieces. She could feel the crack, sense it spreading. Her face fell into her hands because she couldn't watch him anymore. It was all she could do to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. She rubbed at her eyes, dragged her hands down her face, tangled her hands in her hair. Anything to feel something else besides this terror, this helplessness. Something to make her feel in control again.

"Leia." He only ever used her name when he was serious.

She said it again. "I'm pregnant."

"You're pregnant."

She nodded.

And then he was there, his body encompassing hers, holding her close. In his touch, Leia struggled to sense any concrete hint of either joy or dread, but simply comfort. She was still Leia, still the woman he loved, still the human he treated her as. Even after the last two minutes and the surprise she'd had in store for him, his first concern was her.

"Are you okay?" He asked her.

"What? I'm fine."

"I mean … about this. How do you feel about … this?"

"Oh. I don't know, Han. I don't know what to feel. I don't–"

"No, I didn't ask you that. Not what you want to feel. What do you feel right now?"

Leia blinked. "I'm … You want to know the truth, Han? I'm confused, and I can't think straight. That's all I know."

The moment lapsed back to silence.

And then Leia cracked. A fracture that threatened to run deep if not addressed. All the walls she'd built so thick and so tall, all the carefully masked veneers she'd weaved… they'd crumbled before. Once. For Han. When she'd no longer been able to kid herself and finally surrendered to her feelings for him. And now …

She'd cried in his arms that night, when she told Han that she loved him, that he'd resurrected her, reminded her of her purpose and desires. She'd cried, frightened by the sensation of those walls tumbling down, no longer having those secure shields. Han had held her close, smoothed back her hair, wiped away her tears. Pieces her back together.

She broke again– now, and she prayed he'd know how to put all her broken pieces back together this time too.

The tears broke free. Leia had managed to hold them back until now, and they came like rain. Her voice trembled and cracked as she said to him, "I'm scared, Han."

He didn't tell her not to be. He didn't hush her cries or shake his head, but he held her safe in his arms, wiped away her tears.

"I'm scared." Quiet and brittle was her voice, spoken in the softest tone, the lightest note. But all else around them faded to nothing. Emptiness. Silence. It was their own world made up of just the two of them.

And this– this life which had come into being, into their world without permission or intent. But neither of the two lovers could harbor any resentment towards the helpless new life. It wasn't its fault.

It. 'It' was a child, an anonymous name given to a life with unlimited potential. 'It' was one of life's greatest treasures– an inspiring creation made of something so true and real and deep. 'It' was made of love, of endurance, the mark of triumph and overcoming trials and hardships.

Everything about the situation terrified Han, but he came to realize that it was unique. Reflecting on the various one-night stands and affairs Han had had throughout his lonesome years, he'd never bed a woman he'd genuinely loved and felt devoted to. He'd feared commitment, settling down, giving parts of himself to something greater. The idea of casting aside his brash and careless persona in the throes of falling unendingly in love with a woman who was– so much more than Han could have prayed to the stars for, of becoming so enraptured and in awe of her, of becoming someone else because of her … the barest concept had shaken Han to his core. But loving Leia, being with her required Han to abandon those old fears and bury them in his dusty past. He'd feared all those things for so long, but he'd done it for Leia. It was worth it. 'It' was a million other things Han was terrified of, but in the end, 'It' was love.

"I am too," he promised her, holding her face delicately between two hands, brushing his thumbs along her rosy cheeks.

"You're smiling."

"Am I?"

Just like that, Leia relaxed in his arms. Han saw the tension leave her body, some light return to her glistening eyes. "Han, I won't be upset if you're happy."

"I don't know if I'm happy-"

"Liar," she even smiled, and her gaze softened. "But that's okay. I might be happy too."

He relaxed. For the first time in minutes, he could feel the weight of the floor beneath him, and he was relieved.

Her tiny hands were warm in his, and Han almost chuckled aloud at the thought of hands even smaller. Just like she did when they laid together, Leia burrowed herself into him, her body melting against his. Han settled his chin atop her head, inhaled her sweet scent. He pulled her closer. "I'm terrified," she whispered into the suspended silence. "I can't imagine having a baby now. We're at war, Han. The galaxy is shredding itself apart. We have marks on both our heads! Vader and the Emperor will never stop searching for us. … But it's been such a long time since I've seen anything so innocent. Han, can you imagine this? A baby. Maybe a boy, or a girl with our dark hair, my nose-" She stopped mid sentence with another mischievous grin, then added, "your crooked mouth."

"That sounds like a really cute baby."

Mellifluous laughter bubbled from deep within her, a gorgeous tone that was enough to spike Han's desire.

"I'm so scared, Han. But, maybe, do you think we could talk about this? Maybe, we can hope."