From a Certain Point of View
Han spent several weeks in the Coruscant medical center, the better part of his initial stay entailed merely floating in a bacta tank. After that came the physical therapy and nerve regeneration. The hags that had kidnapped and tortured him could learn a thing or two from the Rodian in charge of Han's daily activities. At the end of each day, Han ended up in a heap on his medical bunk, exhausted and feeling as if once again he was on the brink of death.
It hadn't helped that sleep had become an issue for the Corellian, sometimes waking to a deeper exhaustion than he had succumbed to the night before. Some nights and mornings were better than others but neither he nor the medical staff could pinpoint a rhyme or reason. There wasn't a change in medication or routine that could trigger his sleep pattern in one way or another until eventually the inconsistency itself became his new routine.
Han didn't have any visitors his entire stay, a fact that had not escaped him. Could be that only one person really knew where he was. And the only news he heard from Princess Leia was what got reported on the holonet. She had resigned her position with the New Republic, admitting to the rumors of her heritage and seemingly retiring into seclusion. The New Republic, in response, had not taken a stance regarding her, their representative's only comment being, "No comment."
It was early morning on the day that Han was finally to be released. The Coruscant sun beamed through his window signaling the new day. Han sat on the edge of his bed, his fingers and toes were still wrapped up in tiny white bandages and they reminded him of little Sand People. The first of his wounds were proving to be the last things to heal. The bacta had accelerated his nail growth, but half of the tender skin on the nail beds was still exposed.
He had dressed in some clothes that his Rodian therapist had kindly picked up for him, although they looked more like medical scrubs than street attire. He looked down at the shoes that still sat patiently waiting on the floor and winced at the thought of sliding his feet into them.
Turning his head, he looked out toward the window and the beckoning day light. He had no idea where he might go today. Over the past several weeks he had tried to work through some options, but none of them seemed promising now that the harsh reality of this day had finally come. He heard and felt someone enter the room; so used to this level of diminished privacy, he didn't even turn his head to acknowledge the interloper.
She walked past him and into his line of sight and his adam's apple bobbled in response. Stopping in front of the window that he had been staring through she seemed to join him in trying to determine what to make of this day.
"Where will you go?" She spoke to the window, her back to him.
"I don't know. I lost my ship." I lost my ship. The words were small and simple but their implications were enormous. His frustration over his future and his loneliness these past couple of weeks surged inside of him and he had to take a breath to calm himself.
She turned her head and stared at him. He felt as transparent as the window across the room and as breakable as the glass it was made of. She looked like a mountain in contrast to how he felt. She was strong and towering in front of him. Memories of her duel with his captors flashed through his mind and the very sight of her confused him and made him feel weak.
He wondered how she had shown up on the day he was to be released. Had she been alerted or had she been keeping track of his progress? It seemed too coincidental to think otherwise and the fact that she continued to string him along, even from a distance, caused his rage to flare up once again.
"I'm sorry I got you messed up in this and I'll do whatever I can to get your job back."
He felt her words strike him across the face and he slid off the bed and onto his feet. Covering the jolt of pain that shot up his legs from his protesting toes, he straightened himself up and looked down at her as he fumed back in response, "I'm not worried about my job."
"Then I can give you money-"
"I don't want your money." The very mention and offer of such material things in light of everything he had lost infuriating him even more. Did she really think a credit chip could erase what had been done to him and what he had lost? He recalled her words after Dagobah regarding paying him in credits and not information and his fists clenched tightly, the pain his fingertips released in response coursing through his veins and adding to his fury.
"Fine. I have-"
"What's this all about, Leia?" He glared at her, watching his invisible daggers hit their target with the preciseness of his beloved ship's belly gun.
Her mouth hung open for a long moment until she shook her head and looked out to the window. "The less you know the better."
"Apparently not."
She spun around slowly and faced him. "I'm truly sorry for what happened to you."
Her words and sentiment, even though they rang sincere, hit him like a blaster bolt and dislodged his angry words from deep inside of him. "Oh, yeah. For which part? Me losing everything I ever worked for, including my ship? The Falcon, Leia! I lost the fucking Falcon! Not to mention that I nearly lost my life!"
She stood in front of him and accepted the onslaught of his words as if she was wearing a titanium shield. "For everything," she finally replied in a small voice.
Han drew a deep, calming breath. "I deserve some sort of explanation."
He watched her turn around again and look out the window.
He continued talking to her back. "Who were those women? What did they want with you?"
She stood in silence.
"What happened on Dagobah?" Han heard his voice rising but couldn't stop himself. "Where did you go? What the hell did you do? Did you know-"
She spun around so fast that Han hardly had time to register the move before she held her hand out toward him and yelled, "Stop! Just stop!"
He recoiled in fear for one brief moment before reeling it back in, but the look on her face told him that he hadn't been quick enough. She recognized his reaction and her face clouded over with shame, anger and embarrassment.
His rage slipped off of him like clothes on a Twi'lek dancing girl. The horror on her face chopping him back down to size. "Leia," he started as he took a step toward her.
"No." She held her hand up and moved toward the door.
"I'm sorry." Even as he said the words, he wondered how he had ended up apologizing to the woman that had ruined his life. Her eyes darted away from him and he noticed a slight tremble to her hand as she let it drop down to her side.
"I have to go," she muttered as she slipped out the door and left him standing there.
He stared at the space she had just vacated and shook his head, his emotions still swirling inside of him as if trying to figure out exactly where to land. She seemed genuinely horrified by his reaction to her, horrified with herself – not with him. He chastised himself for the slip, but couldn't honestly say that he wasn't a little freaked out over everything he had seen her do during his rescue. Just what was she?
Hobbling over to the medical bunk that he had called home for the past several weeks, he sat down and collapsed onto his back.
Han awoke with a start, his heart racing and his body painted in perspiration. Looking around it took him a moment to place exactly where he was. Still alone in his hospital room, he had no idea how long he might have slept, daylight still poured in through his window indicating that it could not have been very long. He stood up on shaky legs and headed for the 'fresher.
Staring at himself in the mirror for a long moment, Han ran the water in the sink below him. His hair hung nearly to his chin and the medical personnel had only kept his facial hair trimmed to a long stubble. The hazel eyes staring back at him could've just as well belonged to a total stranger, he hardly recognized himself anymore. He rested his bandaged fingers on the sink to steady himself. As he splashed water on his face, he heard the 'fresher door slide open. Dabbing his face with a towel, he looked up and found Leia standing there.
She seemed primed for battle; her hand rested on the blaster at her hip, her breathing was shallow as if she had just run across the entire city. "Are you alright?"
Confused and slightly disoriented by her sudden reappearance, he replied, "Yeah. I just woke up." Slowly realizing where he was standing and where she had just barged into, he added, "You ever think of knocking?"
His question seemed to go right over her head and the fact that they were standing in the 'fresher seemed of no consequence to the princess at that very moment. She started to speak, her eyes never leaving his, as she said, "In answer to your questions. I don't know. I don't…I don't know what all of this is." Her head began to move from side to side. "Everyone thinks I have all the answers. But I don't. Everyone thinks I'm something that I'm not. Or maybe I am…maybe I'm…"
Her hands fell down to her sides and her shimmering eyes fell to the floor. This person that had just scared Han by raising her empty palm to him and had rescued him from brink of death without as much as shedding one drop of blood now stood before him on the brink of tears. He wouldn't have thought it was possible, but somehow seeing this side of her scared him even more.
Taking a deep breath, she looked back up at him. "I know you deserve a better explanation than that."
She stood before him small, yet large; fragile and scared, yet strong and fearsome. She seemed focused and lost all at the same time. Dragging his hand over his face, he sighed and asked her, "What are you gonna do now?"
"I have a spare bedroom."
Han had trouble processing how her words answered his question.
"I was wondering if you needed a place to stay."
Quickly catching up to her meaning, he asked, "What will your boyfriend think of my staying with you?"
"I don't answer to anyone."
Han released a quick breath. "If there's anything I can believe in this galaxy, Princess, I can believe that."
Her lips curled up very faintly and her shoulders seem to fall a degree.
Looking up at the ceiling, Han made a show of thinking things over. "Well, after considering my other offers…" Looking back down at her, he continued, "I don't guess things could get any more interesting than they have already."
"That depends on how you define interesting, Captain."
Han felt his own mouth curl up into a smile as he shook his head at her. Whatever she meant by her words, he couldn't entirely be sure and she seemed overly satisfied by his amused, yet puzzled reaction. He watched her spin around and exit the 'fresher. Turning his head to find his reflection in the mirror, he stared at the stranger gazing back at him and wondered once again just what he might be getting himself into.