Disclaimer: Disney's playground, I just hang out here.
He knelt again beside the small bed, eyes concerned. His son hadn't woken again for nearly an hour, but his fever was still climbing.
Leia appeared in the doorway, softly outlined against the hallway's dim lighting.
"He's still very warm," Han murmured, lightly brushing the tips of his fingers across his youngest son's forehead.
"I'm worried, Han. Nothing seems to be working." Leia moved to kneel beside him, bending and laying her cheek against Anakin's shoulder. The little boy didn't stir. Han leaned towards her, kissing her temple and rising swiftly.
"I'll call a medic."