After getting a shower and changing into a clean set of clothes, Han left the Millennium Falcon and returned to the palace and went upstairs, debating if he'd be better off heading to Luke's room first, or Vader's private chamber. He decided to try his brother first, he palmed the door open and immediately saw Luke sitting on the bed with his head leaning on Vader's shoulder. Both men turned at the door sliding open and looked at him.

"Sorry," he said, "is this a bad time?"

"Not at all," Vader answered. "Come in."

Han uneasily entered the dark room. He'd planned to talk to one of these guys at a time, he hadn't really anticipated speaking to both of them at once, and already he was starting to wish he could double back and return to the Falcon and not have to do this.

"Uhhh," he said as he walked over towards the bed and looked at them. He let out a breath and said earnestly, "I'm not sure what to say."

He really hadn't planned out what he was going to say, he just figured this was as good of time as any to get the ball rolling and start opening up about his life and giving his family the chance to know him and about him, now it was feeling like another stupid idea. He had no idea where to start, how to even begin...

"That doesn't matter," Vader's voice drew him out of his own thoughts, and made him reconsider the ability someone with the Force might have of reading the mind of somebody who didn't have it. "Just start wherever you're comfortable."

Easier said than done. Han thought for a minute, then he sat down on the edge of the bed next to Luke, and looked at both of them as he finally decided on something for a starting point.

"Okay...well, uh...when I was 10 years old, I had a pet falcon...they have them on Corellia but you never really see them up close...but one day there was one just out in the yard. Now that I think about it, it wasn't very big, so he couldn't have been too old...it couldn't fly very well either way, so it mainly just hopped around the yard. There were some tookah cats in the area, but none of them ever came near it, I thought that meant they were afraid of it. After about a week though, one day it just died...and I figured the cats must've known something was wrong with it and that's why they didn't try to eat it..."

As he talked the memories came flooding back like it was yesterday. The initial shock of finding his bird dead from no obvious cause, the pain that replaced the shock, digging a hole and burying it, his mother trying to comfort him afterwards. At the time it was the most painful experience he'd ever known, looking back he realized it was just a preview of things to come.

There was no real direction or even connection to Han's stories but as he talked he found himself segueing from one part of his past to another, and another, and he noticed the wide eyed look Luke gave him as he soaked up the details, he could only imagine what was going on behind his father's mask.

-warm and safe-

That sensation ran through Han's brain for a second before he felt something soft against his cheek and opened his eyes. Wherever he was it was dark, but he could tell he wasn't alone, Vader was capable of a lot of things, but being quiet wasn't a possibility for him.

Han found himself tangled in the covers as he tried to sit up, it was then he realized he was in his own room instead of Luke's, where he last remembered being.

"Pop, what's going on?" he asked in a half whisper.

"Everything's alright, go back to sleep."

It sounded like a good idea to him, after the whole week he'd had he was exhausted. He laid back down and felt the covers replaced, and he heard Vader head for the door, but first he called to his father.

Vader turned, and walked back over to the bed, and asked, "What was that?" Han had said something but he hadn't been able to decipher it.

Han half sat up again and asked Vader, "Luke really never had a pet growing up?" He wanted nothing more right now than to sleep for the next several hours but he remembered bits and pieces of a conversation they'd had in Luke's room earlier that night.

The dark lord was quiet for a moment before he answered, "I considered it, but Luke was always hypersensitive as a child, especially after losing his mother, he was inconsolable enough as it was whenever any of the palace droids went kaput, so I decided against it."

"Hm, smart thinking," Han tiredly commented. He opened his eyes again and looked up at his father and added, changing the subject, "Look, Pop, I'm sorry about being...kind of distant the last few days..."

"I understand, my son."

Han nodded. "I thought you might, but Luke..."

"I explained the situation to him," Vader said. "Your brother is far more understanding than you give him credit for."

"Yeah, I guess so," Han realized. He laid back and pulled the covers tighter against him, then he sat up again as he thought of something, "Pop...uh...would it be alright if I came to see you in your room some night?"

The figure in black looked at him for a moment as if considering the question.

"I would like that."

Han nodded, "Good...I mean, I wouldn't want to wake you, it's just-"

"I actually seldom sleep," Vader told him. "You won't bother me."

Han nodded again, "Okay...er...goodnight, Pop."

"Goodnight, my son."

The next night, Han crept over to the door to Vader's room. Luke was asleep down the hall, and Han hoped it stayed that way. He wasn't exactly sure what was going to happen, but he hoped whatever it was, was just between the two of them.

The door slid open and he set one foot in and looked around, the room was dark but not completely.

"Pop? Are you here?" he called out in a half whisper.

He heard a familiar sound he couldn't immediately place but saw it was the oxygen pod opening up. For the second time in his life, he saw his father in his true form, without the helmet and the mask that concealed his true appearance from the rest of the galaxy.

"Han."

He didn't think he'd ever get used to hearing Vader's natural voice. Even seeing him as he truly was, it just didn't seem to fit. That deep, modulated voice that struck terror into most lifeforms in the universe, that's what he was used to.

Han tried to remember. He remembered actually being in that thing with his father the first time he saw him without his mask, but he had no recollection of how he'd gotten in there.

"Uh..." he felt like an idiot for even asking, but he asked, "can I come in?"

He saw the pale, scarred head nod slightly.

"Of course."

"Uh...thanks..."

This was quite possibly the most awkward experience of his life as the pod closed behind him and it was the two of them in a very enclosed space. Somehow or other Han found himself once again sitting on his father's durasteel legs.

"I kind of wanted to talk to you without Luke around," Han told him. "But, I'm not exactly sure about what. I don't know where to start...there's just so many things racing through my mind...and I don't want to wind up saying the wrong thing."

It seemed through his whole stumbling ramble those blue eyes staring at him never blinked. They made him feel uneasy, like he was a life form specimen under a microscope. There were so many things Han wanted to say to his father, but they'd all sounded a lot better in his own head, he felt stupid trying to actually give voice to them now.

"I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful for everything you've done for me...I'm not, I'm...it's...it's just a whole lot to take in, you know? But...for the longest time, I...I also hated it...I resented you for telling me I had a family, I resented...having to be responsible for someone else, actually having to care about someone else...and I know you always respected my space, but it felt like I was being crowded in on...and I hated you for that...but I realize now, you..." Han knew nothing was coming out the way he'd planned it and even hearing it himself he couldn't figure out where he was going with this, he just hoped somehow Vader understood what he was trying to say. "You never pried into my life...and knowing what I do, I..." he shook his head, "I can't imagine what that's been like for you, I know you want to know about my life...but I'm just not sure what all I can actually tell you." He scratched his head as he thought, and he told Vader, "I wish you'd known my mom...I wish you could've seen her, we never had any holotapes made when I was growing up...and, I can see her perfectly in my mind, but I don't think I'd be doing her justice trying to describe her to you. Uhhh..."

His mind went blank for a moment, as he thought, he was hardly aware of being shifted ever so slightly so his head leaned on Vader's shoulder armor.

"I guess my earliest memory is when I was...two years old maybe...it's not much of one, I just remember this new chair that my mom got, from my perspective it was huge, I climbed up in it and there was a gap between the cushion and the arms, the damn thing about swallowed me."

Han felt like a floodgate had opened in his memory bank though he was only half aware of the words pouring out of his mouth as he gave his father a condensed account of his life growing up, all the little moments he remembered throughout the years but never thought important, trying to fill in some of the gaps of everything Vader had missed, the things he'd thought about, had wanted to see for himself. He hoped by sharing these details with the other man it would at least fill in some of the holes that had built up over a quarter century. He wracked his brain for all the little details of incidences he knew Luke would never be interested in, but a father would be intrigued as far as his firstborn child's first experiences went.

Gradually, Han's eyes grew heavy and he started to slur his words or drop off altogether as his eyes closed and his head dropped on Vader's shoulder. Finally he was in a dead sleep, unaware of anything, including the man he subconsciously curled against in his sleep.

Vader looked at his son, felt Han's breath on his skin, an experience that wouldn't mean anything to anyone else, but he'd never thought he'd be able to experience again. He still found it hard to believe, finally, after so many years of regrets, his firstborn son had finally come home to him. He felt his eyes burn and closed them tight, wishing more than ever that Padme was still alive and could see their son and know as hard as it had been, as painful as it had been, they had made the right choice.

Han moaned softly in his sleep and curled up even tighter against his father. Vader weakly smiled to himself as he slung an arm around Han and held his son close. He wondered how the mind of someone who wasn't Force sensitive worked, if Han ever had any inclinations what was going through his father's mind.

Vader craned his neck down and pressed his forehead against Han's and watched him while he slept. The calm and peacefulness of sleep seemed to erase some of Han's age, he didn't necessarily look younger, just less weather-worn. Even though he'd clearly had the best life possible, it was obvious it had still been a hard one. Vader sighed, maybe nobody ever got through life unscathed, he was just thankful Han hadn't had to grow up as he had, hadn't had to know the slave life, laboring under the double suns of Tatooine.

His mind wandered, back to that day. The day he would regret until he died. The day he gave up his son.