********A/N – Finally we are going to find out what happened to Han in this chapter. And not to beg, but please, if you like what you're reading, please review! Feedback feeds the muse! ******

The first thing that Han was aware of was that he was cold. Actually, freezing was a more adequate word for it. From the moment he awakened, his teeth were chattering. His eyes were open, but he couldn't see anything. He wanted to reach up and remove his blindfold, but he realized that his hands were bound behind his back.

Too many things about his current situation reminded him of being in carbonite, and his breathing became shallow and frantic. His face was pressed up against the cold, duracrete floor below, and all he could think to do was yell. "HEY!"

There was a faint echo, but no response. Whoever had gotten him into this position hadn't been smart enough to cover his mouth. Or perhaps they'd known that it wouldn't matter either way, since nobody could possibly hear him.

While futilely struggling with the binders that restrained his arms, he tried to remember what had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

After walking out on Leia, he had wandered down to the lower levels of Coruscant – far lower than most men of his current status ever ventured, but where he could be fairly certain that he'd be virtually ignored. All he had wanted was to disappear for a little while, and that was the best place to do it.

It was the kind of establishment he'd visited often in his youth, long before the rebellion and becoming a public figure. Most beings in those dives tried their best not to make eye contact with anyone, as most were trying to avoid run-ins with law enforcement. He had been sipping on a strong drink, having no desire to drink himself into oblivion, but needing at least something to take the edge off the irritation he was feeling before going back home, all the while wondering if he'd even still be welcome there.

It was then that he'd felt her cold, bony hand on his shoulder. Her face was familiar but aged beyond her years and as pale as the ghost he thought she was.

"It's been a long time, Solo."

It took him a moment to get past his shock before he could answer. "Nesla, I thought you were dead."

He was momentarily glad to see her. The tall, long-haired brunette was clad in a black skinsuit underneath an open, purple cloak. She was a few years older than him, and had also been unfortunate enough to be enslaved by Garris Shrike. Nesla's parents had been killed by imperials right in front of her, and she rarely showed much emotion, but she and Han had become fast friends.

Han vividly remembered an instance in which the two of them had plotted escape and Han had tried playing the hero and naively promised that he would never let anything happen to her. She had only been in their group for a few months before she disappeared, and when Han asked what had happened to her, Shrike had bluntly told him she was dead, and he should forget about her. Han was only 11 years old at the time, and Nesla had been about 14.

She had been like a sister to him for a brief time, and he hadn't forgotten the pain he'd felt at hearing she was gone from his life forever. If he wasn't feeling so unsettled by the angered, icy look in her eyes, he'd have hugged her. She didn't seem to be interested in that kind of reunion.

"You should've known better than to believe anything Shrike told you, Solo. Do you remember the last time you saw me, Han? They sent us out together, only we got separated. You didn't come to look for me. They captured me and left me for dead. Only I didn't wind up dead, Han. I was found and used to bring in money for a very different sort of organization."

Without asking for specifics, Han knew exactly what she meant. It made him feel sick to his stomach to think that the child he remembered would be subjected to something like that. "Nesla, I'm so sorry to hear that. It must've been – "

He turned toward her on his bar stool, but before he could say another word, he felt her fingernails digging harshly into his shoulder. "Hell? You have no idea, Solo. You also have no idea how it felt to see how you turned out after all that, and know that nobody ever gave me a chance to have a normal life, let alone the life of a big shot hero."

Han swallowed hard. He knew as well as anyone that he didn't deserve what he had. He'd gotten lucky, but there were many others he'd known then who weren't anywhere near as fortunate, and he was reminded once again of how unfair life could be for some people. In that instant he decided that once he got home he was going to be damn thankful for what he did have, even if at the moment it was far from perfect. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to say."

"You knew what to say then, didn't you? You told me you'd never let anything happen to me."

The anger in her eyes made him feel as though he'd betrayed her just yesterday and he found himself getting defensive. "I was just a kid, Nesla. He told me you were dead. What was I supposed to do about it?"

"Anything!"

Han was becoming more than a little uncomfortable with the rage she was feeling toward him. This was not the innocent girl he knew when he was a kid. He slowly slid his hand down to his right thigh, nearly panicking when he realized that his blaster was not strapped there, but rather had been left at home when he'd abruptly stormed out. He was actually going to have to try and talk his way out of this one. "Look, can we just talk about this? Maybe there's something I can do to help you out."

"I don't want to hear your explanations, Solo. Or your help." He felt the unmistakable harshness of a blaster pressed against his ribs, and she leaned in close to his ear and spoke quietly. "I want you to know what it's like to be trapped without anyone in the galaxy who cares about you. Waiting for someone to save you but knowing it's never going to happen."

"But – " she'd cut him off by digging the blaster more harshly into his ribs, causing him to wince.

"No more talking. Let's go, hot shot."

She had led him out of the bar then. And as usual in places like that, not a single patron paid them any attention as they walked outside to her speeder.

"And don't try and tell me that you know what it's like," she'd said. "You can't possibly imagine."

Once he was in the speeder, he remembered feeling a sharp blow to the back of his head, and then he remembered nothing else.

The truth was, he knew exactly what it was like. He had lived that life for almost his entire childhood. Things were different now. He had a wife, kids and friends who cared about him.

Didn't they? The way he'd been feeling lately, and the way that he'd left them made him wonder. For all Leia knew, Han's disappearance was completely voluntary. If Nesla imprisoned him, it was quite possible nobody would even be looking for him.

Maybe his family didn't need him anymore, but right now, he needed them more than ever. He only had to hope that they cared enough to come looking for him.