"Han? Han?" a low voice whispered, "are you awake?"

It was dark when Han opened his eyes. He wasn't sure right away where he was but he quickly figured out he was in his room, he looked and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness he saw Luke standing over him.

"What's going on?" he whispered in response.

Then, it came back to him, and Han felt like garbage all over again.

"Pop told you what happened, didn't he?"

Luke nodded sadly. "Yeah, I heard. I'm sorry, Han."

Han didn't even know what to say in response. The pain was still so fresh he thought if he said anything he'd start crying again, and he'd already embarrassed himself enough for one day without his brother having to see it.

It started to dawn on him though that whether he said anything or not, Luke didn't look like he was going anywhere anytime soon. Han reached over to pull down the covers on the other side of the bed, along the way he felt something small and fuzzy, the ewok doll, now he had an idea why Luke gave it to him...yanked the blankets down and turned back to his brother and said simply, "Get in."

Luke went around to the other side and climbed in alongside his brother. Han knew there wasn't anything that anybody could say to make him feel better about his situation, but for some reason he thought he'd feel less like garbage if someone was with him right now.

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, finally Luke turned his head towards his brother, "Han."

"Yeah?"

There was a pause, then Luke answered, "I love you."

The older man turned to face him and replied, "I love you too, Luke...let's get some sleep."

The two of them got settled in under the covers and after a few minutes, both fell asleep.

The next morning Han and Luke were both sick when they woke up. Scans from a medic droid concluded it was respiratory virus and even with treatments it would last between one and two weeks. Both men were perfectly miserable, but decided to bunk together in Han's room so they each at least had some company. Not that that was without its downfalls, all too often each would cough on the other while they were in bed trying to sleep. On the other hand when they were awake they had someone to watch holotapes with, Luke brought his hologame table in and they passed several miserable hours playing dejarik around coughing up all kinds of crud.

The symptoms seemed to come and go, and alternate, first one of them would be cold, then hot, then the other would start.

One night Han woke up achy and frozen and realized it was because Luke had stolen the covers in his sleep. Han reached over and grabbed the blankets and pulled them back. He'd just gotten himself adequately covered when Luke reached over in his sleep and pulled them over him again. Han grabbed the corner of the blankets and pulled with more force this time and Luke rolled over on top of him. Han decided to call it good enough, at least he had some coverage for the night.

One morning Darth Vader entered the room to see how the two of them were doing, and was met with a disturbing sight. Luke was just starting to wake up, apparently having slept all night, but Han was curled on his side right by the edge of the bed, moaning and mumbling incoherently and his eyes were only open a slit but he looked ready to burst into tears. He finally sat up and explained to their father that in addition to feeling like hell with a clogged chest and a throat that felt like it was about to be ripped out every time he swallowed, that he'd been awake all night, trying for hours to sleep and all to no avail, and he was beyond exhausted. A droid was brought in to examine Han and concluded the medicine that should've made it easier for him to sleep had instead had an adverse effect and left him wired. A sedative was administered to him and in a few moments he finally fell asleep. Vader rolled him over to the center of the bed, piled both pillows under his head and tucked him in. Luke returned to his own room to let his brother sleep, and it was late afternoon before Han finally woke up. After that he was wired all over again and he and Luke stayed up most of the night playing dejarik and watching holofilms until they both fell asleep a couple hours before the sun came up.

Luke was already awake when Han opened his eyes. It was still dark out but there was enough light coming in the window he could see Luke sitting up on the other side of the bed. It had been nearly two weeks since they'd gotten sick, the worst of it was long since over and both had finally gotten back to feeling 'normal', whatever the hell that was. But nothing looked normal about his little brother right now.

"What is it?" Han asked.

Luke looked at him and said, "There's something I have to say...but you might hate me for it. I hope you don't, because it's just the truth, because you're my brother and I love you."

Uh oh, Han didn't like the way this was going.

"What is it?" he repeated.

Luke looked down at the blankets for a few seconds as he seemed to gather up the courage to actually do this.

"I'm...actually kind of...glad, that you're off the fleet."

Han blinked. "What?"

"Remember when you came here that night because I had that dream?" Luke asked. "It felt so real, I was terrified something was going to happen to you...and then when we heard you'd been shot down...and there weren't any survivors...I thought the dream had actually come true. Until they found you, and found that you were still alive...I was just sick."

Han took a moment to let that all sink in. He'd forgotten about that night, but suddenly it all came back, just how upset Luke was, he was just about hysterical, it took hours to get him to calm down. At the time he'd just brushed it off as a stupid dream that didn't mean anything, and he still refused to believe it was a premonition, but, hearing it from Luke's side, it actually started to make sense.

"And when Father told me you'd be discharged, I just...I knew it'd be hard for you, but I was relieved, I thought at least then, this can't ever happen again, you wouldn't have to be in danger again."

"I hate to break it to you, kid," Han told him, "but danger's followed me since I was old enough to walk, I don't see that changing just because I'm drummed out of the Navy."

Luke's eyes were big, uncertain, filled with doubt and fear, like a beaten animal, and he asked, "Do you hate me, Han?"

The older man sighed. "No...I don't...I hate that this happened, I hate that my career's over...but I don't hate you. I get it, this has been a terrifying experience for me as it was, and I don't even remember what happened. It's...really had to be murder on you this whole time."

"I know what this means to you, Han, I'm sorry," Luke said.

Anything Han might've wanted to feel at that time took a back seat when he saw Luke starting to tremble ever so slightly, and saw his eyes glisten in the early light as tears started to build up.

"Come here," Han pulled Luke over towards him and hugged him, "it's okay...I've just been feeling sorry for myself, but I'll figure something else out. Hell, maybe I'll put in for teaching at the flight academy after all, hey think about it, nobody knows we're related, I could be your instructor next year."

A small shaky laugh escaped the younger man in his arms. Han wrestled one hand loose and used it to smooth down parts of Luke's hair that stuck out on all sides during the night.

"I'd like that," Luke said.

"Me too, kid."

Han thought to himself as he teetered somewhere in and out of sleep, he must've finally kicked that crud once and for all, the air felt so different now, it was so fresh, and rich, pure oxygen, it was almost heavy...wait a minute...the air never felt like that. For that matter...his bed was very uncomfortable, the mattress felt like...a set of durasteel knees. What?

Han opened his eyes and looked up and saw somebody towering over him, but he couldn't get a good look at them. He started to sit up and realized he was in an enclosed space somewhere, and he was with...

"Pop?" Han's eyes widened at the pale, bald, scarred man staring down at him.

The scarred, cracked lips turned upward in a thin smile and the blue eyes seemed to light up at the recognition.

Luke had described their father's true appearance to Han but, nothing compared to seeing it for himself. He leaned too far back, lost his balance and fell back against the durasteel legs under him. Han heard somebody weakly chuckling, and he guessed it had to be coming from Vader, but it didn't sound like him at all. His voice was so much more...quiet...weaker...human, without the vocoder.

"Hello, my son."

Han pushed up on his hands to sit up again and got a better look at his father. Han was sure he looked like an idiot with his eyes wide and he felt his mouth hanging open, but he just couldn't believe what he was seeing, that after all these years, he not only found his father, but actually got to see him with his own eyes.

For a minute he couldn't think of anything to say, and without really thinking before he spoke, he got out, "I...I guess I got my looks from Mom."

The man who had once answered to the name Anakin Skywalker tipped his head back and laughed as hard as his lungs could manage without the respirator.

"Yes, perhaps a little," he responded.

Han felt a gloved hand on the back of his head and he tensed. It was one thing knowing part of his father was machine and part was still man, when he didn't have to know where one ended and the other began, actually seeing his father as a human, that made it different, he wasn't sure why.

"I know you've been having a hard time since the news of your discharge," the older man told him.

Han nodded glumly, "Yeah, I..." he cleared his throat, and tried to figure out how to explain this without sounding ungrateful. "It's just...Mom died, my mom died, and I joined the Navy, it's the only thing I had for so long, and I just...never thought what would happen if I didn't have it anymore. I just always figured I'd bite it one day in combat and wouldn't have to think about it. Never really occurred to me I'd get shot down and walk away, and not be able to go back."

"Believe me, my son, I understand very well," Vader said as his hand moved down the base of Han's neck to his back and lightly squeezed/rubbed it by his shoulder.

Han hadn't been aware of it but he leaned against his father and pressed his cheek against the control panel on his chest as he said, "I'm just...up in the air right now...I don't have any idea what I'm going to do."

"You're lucky," Vader said, "you're young," he lightly grabbed Han's healed arm and added, "you're well...you have all the time in the universe to figure out what to do next."

Han didn't have much time to dwell on that thought because his father added, "If Padme could see you, she would be so proud of the way you turned out."

"Even now?" Han asked hesitantly.

"Yes."

Han sucked in a small breath and asked self consciously, "Are you?"

"Of course."

Han felt like any strength he still had was just sapped out of him. He slid off his father's knees, he pressed his legs against the floor of the meditation pod but kept the upper half of his body draped across Vader's lap.

"This whole thing just still feels so surreal," he confessed, "I feel like I'm stuck in a time warp of some kind."

It had been so long since he had actually been reliant on another human being, he felt like he was about 10 years old again when he still had his mother to hover over him and make most of his decisions for him. It was a strange feeling when you were an adult and had been on your own for 9 years.

"Something I've never understood..." maybe he hadn't actually planned for Vader to hear it, but realizing he'd said it out loud, he knew he had to continue, "Mom...my mom...from the time I could understand Basic, I always knew I was adopted, even when I wasn't sure what it meant. She could've easily passed me off as her own kid, we looked a lot alike...but she always let me know I wasn't really her kid. I mean she was nice...she..." she had loved him, she'd been the only one, he'd never doubted it even though she mainly had subtle ways of showing it and wasn't overt about it, "I always thought she must've been ashamed of me for some reason, why else would she tell me that? I remember her talking to the neighbors and she told all of them that I was adopted, I never understood why she'd do that."

He felt the durasteel hand kneading a spot on his back, and he quietly wondered if his father was actually aware of his own physical strength with his bionic limbs. There was a moment of silence in the meditation pod before Vader responded, "Perhaps because she wanted you to have the option of finding your birth family when you grew up."

Han moved his eyes upward and looked at his father, "I never thought about that."

His eyes flinched shut in synchronization with the hand patting the top of his head.

"Han, the woman who chose you for her son was a wonderful woman."

Han turned his head up to look at him directly, "How do you know? You said you didn't know who adopted me."

"Because I've gotten to see the man you've become."

Han didn't know how to respond to that and settled for burrowing back down with the side of his face pressed against Vader's knee.