Han heard a low continuous humming sound, which he slowly realized was actually somebody groaning...after a little longer he realized the sound was coming from him. He was sore all over, he didn't even remember what happened. He opened his eyes, and then realized in delayed terror that they already were open. He closed his eyes, and opened them again, and was met with the same pitch blackness.

"What's going on?" he felt his heart jump into his throat and felt a tingling sensation climbing up his arms and his back and neck. "Where am I? W-who's there? What happened?"

He heard the whoosh of a door open and heard a mechanical breathing.

"Han."

His father. His father was there, but where was there?

"What's going on?" he repeated, beyond terrified, "I can't see!"

He felt a gloved hand on top of his head. "Calm yourself, my son, you are alright."

"I can't see!"

"You are in the med bay," Vader told him. "You're being treated for your injuries."

"Injuries?" Han repeated in a nervous stammer, feeling a huge lump in his throat and his heart beating a light year a parsec, "W-what injuries? What happened?"

"You will be alright," Vader said. "But you need to calm down and rest. Everything is being tended to."

"Why can't I see? Am I blind?" he pushed himself to ask, "Am I blind?"

"No," Vader told him. "Your eyes were scratched by debris, the medics are keeping them covered until they heal."

"But, I...I'll...I can see?" Han asked, desperate for it to be true.

"Yes, my son."

That was a relief, but it didn't take away the near-paralyzing fear coursing through him, fear of the unknown, that which he couldn't remember.

"What happened?" he asked, blindly reaching through the air to find Vader's arm, to actually feel he was there, that he was real, that he wasn't just hallucinating from shock. "What happened?"

He felt the leather glove and the hard durasteel underneath it as the fingers wrapped around his elbow.

"You were shot down. You were pulled from the ship."

"What?!" Han couldn't believe what he was hearing. He tried jolting up but the durasteel grip of his father largely immobilized him where he was. "Who? The Rebels?"

"No," Vader answered, even through the vocoder his voice sounded grim, "we have reason to believe it was a slave ship."

"A...slave ship!?" Now even Vader's grip wasn't enough to keep Han from at least trying to jump up from where he was. "A damned slave ship? When I get out of here I'm gonna-"

Now both of Vader's arms were pressing him back against the bed as he was ordering Han to calm down. That was interrupted by the whoosh of the door opening again.

"Han!"

That was Luke's voice. Han wasn't sure if he was far off or right next to him, his voice seemed to bounce off the walls. He heard a couple charging footsteps on the floor before a sudden weight knocked him flat against the mattress and felt a new flesh and bone grip on him, threatening to make some part of him pop or break. Luke was screaming incoherently, and Han realized, crying as well. What was going on?

In all the confusion he heard Vader's voice again ordering Luke to get off of his brother and felt the durasteel arms move off of him, and felt them lock between Han and the other body on top of him, he was trying to pry Luke off of Han. Luke was sobbing hysterically, but in the midst of it all Han was distinctly able to make out a sentence about everybody else on the destroyer being killed in the crash, and they'd thought Han was dead too. It took a minute for the words to really sink in, and when they did, Han felt his heart drop to his stomach, he fell back against the bed like a boneless mass. Everything was already black, it couldn't possibly get any darker, but immediately after that, everything went silent. It would only be when he came to again he'd realize it was from him fainting at the news.

"So what's the total damage?" Han asked later when everything had calmed down. He wasn't sure if it was the same day, or the next day, or if it was night. Time didn't exist for him now. He had no schedule while he was recovering, just to stay in the bay bed until he could be discharged. Recovering from what exactly, he still hadn't found out.

He felt Luke's head pressed on his shoulder, his good shoulder, felt the kid's arms wrapped around his own as he answered, "Concussion, broken bone in your arm, lots of bumps and bruises, they had to adhere a couple ribs back together, your eyes..."

"But I am going to see when they take these bandages off, right?" Han asked.

"Yeah," Luke sounded certain.

"Good. When?"

"They said it might be another week," Luke answered.

"Oh fun," Han groaned. "I thought bacta was supposed to work on all this stuff."

"This is after the bacta, Han," Luke told him. "It was a lot worse when they brought you in."

"Oh..." he replied quietly. "So...where's...I mean..."

"Father said he'd be here later," Luke answered.

"I've been meaning to ask," Han said. "How're you doing with all this?"

There was total silence for a few seconds, and Han wasn't sure if he'd stuck his foot in his mouth or not.

"All what?" Luke asked.

"You know, me."

"I like it."

If it didn't hurt so much, Han would laugh, he could actually hear Luke smiling when he said it.

"I don't have any complaints, like I said, I always wanted a brother...and," Luke was starting to stammer now, bashful, "I couldn't think of a better one to have."

"You know how glad I am I can't see you right now?" Han asked teasingly.

"What about you?" Luke asked. "I mean...this has to be more of an adjustment for you than it is for me."

Han shrugged with his good shoulder. "If I was your age it might be different, I like it, but to be honest it's still kind of awkward. Not just because of you, just..."

Luke guessed what he was trying to get at. "Having a father in general?"

"Something like that," Han answered, "I never had one growing up."

"I guess that would be a weird adjustment," Luke said.

"Yeah," Han agreed, "weird, but not bad." He thought of something else and asked Luke, "Have you ever seen him, I mean what he really looks like?"

"Not often," Luke replied. "You realize he needs the mask to stay alive, the only place he can breathe without it is in his oxygen pod."

"Well...what's he look like?" Han asked.

Luke paused for a moment before answering, "He's pale...and bald...and scarred...he was burned in a lava pit years ago."

"Ouch," Han hissed.

"You can see why he wears that mask," Luke said. "Nobody in the galaxy would be afraid of him if they knew what he really looked like."

"Fair point."

Han reached his good arm up and pressed his hand against his forehead.

"Are you okay?" Luke asked.

"Yeah...just trying to figure out how I'm going to not lose my mind staying here another week, unable to see, or do anything," Han answered.

He felt the mattress jiggle as Luke absently kicked one foot against it, Han could practically feel the kid thinking.

Suddenly he broke the silence by saying, "I could bring my holoprojector down here and we could listen to some tapes."

Han considered it and nodded. "Sounds good."

Han tried to walk at the same pace as Luke, who had draped Han's good arm over his shoulders and was leading him through the bay corridors to get him out of bed for a while. He hadn't been able to adjust to this temporary blindness, each day he was anxious for the medics to take the bandages off and every day they insisted he wasn't ready yet. He disagreed, but he didn't want to risk it either. He had to rely on Luke to make sure he didn't bump into or trip over anything, he wasn't sure if they were alone in the hallway or not. The whole thing made him feel very self-conscious, like he was on display.

He heard approaching footsteps and the mechanized breathing.

"Pop?"

"Father," Luke said as he stopped and forced Han to stop with him.

Han removed his arm from across Luke's shoulders and reached in front of him, trying to find Vader, but all he came up with was thin air. He'd heard that blind people had their remaining senses of awareness heightened to compensate for their lack of vision, but he wasn't able to get any kind of reading on where Vader was.

He felt the two gloved hands grab his hand and lightly squeeze, to let him know his father was right in front of him.

"How are you doing, Han?" the modulated voice asked.

"Going stir crazy, they still won't take the bandages off," Han answered.

"You must be patient."

"That's what they tell me."

He thought he felt a shift in the air as he guessed Vader turned to his younger son and told him, "I'll take over from here, Luke." He felt one gloved hand let go of him and the other lightly pulled him along to follow him.

"Where're we going?" Han asked, suddenly feeling very uneasy.

"A private room."

Han had noted trouble keeping an even pace with the man who was more or less dragging him along, he was even more self-conscious that he was going to slam into something in passing, but no obstacles presented themselves.

"What's going on?" Han had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

He heard a door slide open and felt them stepping into another room. It was quiet, and even though he couldn't see anything, he had a feeling it was dark wherever they were.

"There's no one here," Vader told him. "We're alone."

Han wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a good or bad thing.

"What is troubling you, my son?"

Han lifted his head slightly and felt his eyebrows knot together. How did...

"You don't need to be strong in the Force for me to know something is wrong," Vader pointed out. "What is it?"

Han's shoulders slumped as he realized he couldn't hide anything from this man. Defeated, he answered, "I've been trying to remember the day we got shot down...and I can't. I can't remember anything about it."

"That is probably for the best," Vader told him.

"But I don't know what went wrong," Han responded. "I don't remember...I don't remember the other ship, I don't remember what we missed. If we were being shot at...and how the hell does a damn slave ship have enough fire power to take out a fleet destroyer?"

"The destroyers are in theory supposed to be fairly indestructible," Vader said. "But everything has a design flaw, clearly they found it."

"But how?" Han asked. The frustration was evident in his voice, "All the time I've been in the Imperial Navy and nobody has ever been able to get the best of me, and I can't even remember what happened!"

"Han," the modulated voice seemed a bit softer than usual. "No one is blaming you for what happened."

"But I was the only one who survived!" Han hadn't planned to blurt that out, but now that he had, he figured there was room for another admission. "Why did I survive? Why did I and nobody else did?"

"I can't answer that," Vader told him. "I'm just thankful you did."

Han hadn't expected that, most of his body felt like it froze but he felt the bottom half of his face starting to twitch, to tremor, felt the same sensation going all the way down to his chest.

He felt something wrap around him and the next thing he felt was Vader's armored shoulder underneath his cheek as he also felt most of his strength leaving him. His legs went limp and he felt he was falling, no, he was being pulled down, no, there was suddenly a weight under him, and he was sitting upright. Han felt he was hanging on for dear life, it took him a minute to realize that the weight under him was his father's durasteel legs. He was sitting across his father's lap, and even though he couldn't see, his head reflexively turned as he tried to look around and figure out what was going on. The whole thing made him feel self-conscious, especially since he couldn't see for himself that nobody else saw him like this. A new sensation about made him jump out of his skin before he realized it was one of Vader's gloved hands on his back.

"The whole ship was declared a loss, the bodies were cleared out for hours. I had hoped somehow you survived, but after a while it seemed futile."

Han felt a rock in his stomach at learning all this. He wasn't sure what bothered him the most, that his own father had believed him dead, or just the whole thing in general.

"Then," the modulated voice said, there was a small pause, "they said one of the casualties was still alive...there were still hundreds of crew members on the ship, but I hoped."

Han still wasn't sure how the whole Force thing worked but he suddenly had an image in his head of Vader running onboard the ship as fast as he could move on his durasteel feet, to find the one survivor.

"They found you under a pile of dead crewmen, it's a wonder you weren't crushed to death in the time it took them to find you."

Han felt his whole body shift, he realized he was being held closer against Vader, he felt the chest plate press into his ribs as he felt one of Vader's hands on the back of his head.

"I finally found you after 25 years," Vader told him, sounding lost in his thoughts. "And then I almost lost you."

Han moved his head down, feeling something that resembled shame. He'd been trying to process everything he'd learned over the past few days about the crash and the fact he was the sole survivor. Why him? Why didn't he die with the rest? Or why didn't anybody else survive? Any...body...he thought of the crew on the destroyer, men he'd known for years, men he'd been working alongside for months, all of them, every last one of them, dead...how? How could it even be possible? It just couldn't be. It wouldn't be until he could see again, and saw for himself that they weren't there any longer...he felt his body slump against Vader's, he wasn't sure he did want to see then.

No...another thought formed in his head as he sat straighter on his father's lap. He wanted to see again, he had to see again, because when he got out of this med bay he was going to track down the slave ship that had shot them down, and he was going to-

"What's it like?" he turned his head instinctively even though he couldn't see his father, "To have one kid with the Force and one without. What's that like?"

"It makes it a little easier to keep an eye on Luke," Vader answered. "You require more effort."

A laugh escaped him. "That sounds about right."

"If you had, though, I would have known you were still alive," Vader said.

Han felt a knot in his stomach as he also felt the leather-clad fingers patting the top of his head. He sat there in silence for a moment, his head tipped down again as he thought.

Finally, his burning curiosity got the better of him and he asked his father, "Where exactly are we?"

"The throne room."

Han raised his head again and turned towards Vader, his reflexes overrode the constant fact he couldn't see no matter where he was looking.

"What?"

"You've been in the palace's med bay," Vader explained.

Han felt his bottom jaw drop slightly as this fact sunk in. He hadn't given much thought to where he was but just figured it was any one of a dozen various bays across the galaxy. Then again, he thought back and realized he never heard any other patients, never heard the medics talking to anyone else. He hadn't focused on it at the time, but now it all made sense. He slumped against Vader again as he realized his self-consciousness at people seeing him was all unwarranted, and that fact made him feel exhausted.