1I have no idea how we did it, but Leia and I managed to care for Ben while hiding out with the Alliance. Honestly, we couldn't have done it without Han. Every time we were in battle or attacked, we could count on him to take one or both of us, with the baby, out of the way on the Falcon.

It was the happiest time of my life. Leia and I were married, so I no longer had to worry about where I stood with her, and it was before the rest of it started–my real problems.

Ben was such a joy. He looked just like her, so there was no reason for people to disbelieve that he was mine. In fact, I was even listed as his father on his birth certificate. When people would ask, as they often did, if we weren't a little young to be married with a baby, Leia would smile and shrug and say, "We fell in love."

The next two years passed in a heartbeat. Ben learned to walk and talk and sing cute little songs, and how to hide from me in an X-Wing hanger when it was the most inconvenient, and how to get candy out of "Uncle" Wedge, and how to pout to make "Uncle" Han forgive him if he drew on the walls on the Falcon. He was small for his age, but incredibly smart and beautiful, and everyone loved him, me and Leia most of all.

Ben doesn't know to this day that I'm not his father. I doubt he ever will.

I remind myself that it's all right to miss him. It's not his fault that he is what he is. It's not his fault that you and Leia were more to one another than you should have been, either.

I run a hand through my still-wet hair as I walk down the dark nether-street to the cantina. I go to this one because it's so sketchy that it's completely safe for me–no one knows who I am, besides my hook-up. I don't make friends anymore. They don't understand.

My hook-up sits in a dark corner, hooded. He's almost always here, and I wonder absently what, if anything, he does outside of pushing. But it doesn't matter. It's his business. He doesn't ask me why I use so much spice, and I don't ask him why he sells so much. It works out.

I'm aware of the fact that I'm scarcely recognizable as the boy hero of the Alliance, and that the beings who drink and smoke spice and play sabbic here are not likely to know me regardless, but all the same, I stick to the shadows as I cross the cantina. Not so much out of fear for my reputation–I don't even have one anymore. I just want to be left alone, that's all.

I don't use the Force anymore. I'm to afraid that the darkness could take me, and then what would I do? But still, sometimes, there will be a twinge of something in the back of my mind. It has to be something strong, though.

I feel him a fraction of a second too late, and see him even later. He's already seen me.

In a panic, I turn and run from the cantina, back into the endless night and in the direction of the turbolift to the surface. He's chasing after me, and I don't have to be Force-sensitive to know it. I know him.

"Luke!" he calls, but I keep running.

"Luke, damnit! I don't see you for seven years and you can't talk to me for a second?"

I stop, feeling slightly guilty but mostly annoyed. Now I'm not going to get the spice, I think. That, and the whole street probably knows who I am now.

I keep my back to him, but I hear his footsteps behind me. "Han," I say softly when he's caught up, "I don't want you to see me."

"Why not?"

"Things are...well, not going so great lately." I turn reluctantly to face him, and I know that he sees under the street lights the glassiness in my reddened eyes, all the weight I've lost, and how pale I am.

He frowns in concern and confusion. "What're you doin' to yourself?"

I force myself to smile, but I'm only doing it out of desperation. "Oh...I'm okay. It's nothing."

"You're not sick, are you?"

I shake my head, and neither of us says that we both know perfectly well what's going on.

"Hey, uh..." Han says, not knowing what to say or how to say it. "Ben's been askin' about you. Wants to know why he never sees you. I don't know what to tell him."

I don't answer, but look at Han pleadingly.

"Fine. Nevermind."

"I can't ever come back, Han. Not after...I can't forgive myself for what happened."

Han looks away sadly.

"Besides, she's your wife, now. And...with what's going on...I don't want my kids to see me this way."

He nods. He understands.

"I heard about...you and Leia. The baby on the way. Congratulations."

I suppose I mean it, but even I detect a little bitterness in my voice.

"Thanks," he says half-heartedly.

We're silent for a moment, and I look at him. He hasn't changed much. I loved him once, a long time ago, the way you love a brother, maybe even a father.

But that is all gone now. All that's left is a dull ache and tears forming slowly in the corners of my eyes.

"Buy you a drink?" he asks as a last resort.

It's so absurd I can't help but laugh. He smiles back at me. "That's good to hear," he says.

"Okay," I agree, and as soon as I say it, I regret it. But at the same time, I know that I'd needed to see him. I needed some affection from someone. He puts an arm around my slender shoulders and leads me back inside. I lean my head on his shoulder. He still smells the same.