CHAPTER 20:

The hairs on the back of Han's neck stood up, and he opened his eyes. Leia was sitting up next to him looking over her shoulder. The light that seeped out of the cracked door of the refresher didn't chase away the deep shadows that lurked in the far corner.

"Leia?"

He placed a hand on her arm. Goosebumps covered her skin and her body trembled. Han squinted in the direction she was looking but saw nothing.

"You're cold. Get under the covers."

She didn't move.

"Leia?"

"He's here," she whispered, her voice meek, panicked.

Han propped himself up on his elbow.

"Who's here?"

She turned her head and looked at him. No, she wasn't looking at him; she was looking through him. Her large brown eyes were wide with fear, and a tear slipped from the corner of her right eye.

"I can't keep you safe."

"What?"

He waved his hand in front of her face. Leia didn't react. Han gave her a small shake. "Leia, wake up."

She blinked and looked around the room.

"You were dreaming."

Han wiped away her tear with his thumb. She swallowed hard and looked over her shoulder again. Han turned on the light.

"See? No one's here but us."

Her eyes searched the rest of the room before they settled on Han.

"It was just a dream. You're safe here. Come'n. Go back to sleep."

He pulled her arm and guided her down onto the bed. He wrapped his arms tight around her and brought her close to him. She rested her head on his shoulder and pressed herself into his embrace. Han released her for a moment to pull the covers over them. Then he smoothed her hair hoping to soothe the trembling of her body.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Han didn't expect her to answer. He felt helpless.

"Vader…" she started.

Han held his breath, waiting for her to continue. Just when he thought that was all she was going to say, she continued.

"We were here…but not here. It was dark, but…orange clouds…there was no ceiling…just orange clouds…Vader," she swallowed, "You were there. And Luke. Vader tried to kill Luke with his lightsaber. I stopped him. I used Luke's lightsaber…I cut Vader in half. Then Luke disappeared.

"Then Vader, he was whole again and he…he was torturing you. I put myself between you and him, but he…he moved right through me. Every time I stepped in front of him…It was as if I wasn't there. I couldn't stop him."

Han placed a kiss on the crown of her head. She looked up at him.

"You were begging me…I stopped him from hurting Luke…but I couldn't stop him from hurting you. I... I let you down."

"You could never let me down."

Leia didn't say anything for a moment. Her fingers tightened around the hair on his chest. "He was here. I could feel him…"

"It's just you and me here, Sweetheart. He can't hurt you. I won't let him."

"He wasn't hurting me," she whispered. "He was hurting you."

"It was just a terrible nightmare. He can't hurt either of us."

"It felt like more of a premonition than a dream."

A chill ran down Han's spine. "You're picking that up from Luke. Dreams are not premonitions."

"But Vader— "

"The galaxy is huge. What are the odds that we cross paths with him?"

Leia said nothing. She had first knowledge of what pain Vader could inflict, and any reassurance from Han was pointless. His desire to keep her safe increased tenfold and caused his chest to tighten. While he believed the odds of them confronting Vader were less than slim, Han had to prevent that monster from hurting her again. However, he had to stick around to protect her. How could he leave her?

"I'll leave the light on. Try to get some sleep." Han kissed her forehead, and she closed her eyes. He rested his head against hers.

Leia swiped at her eye, sniffed, and settled in. She still trembled but not as obvious as before. Han stared at the ceiling and concentrated on the sound of her respiration. Her uneven breath eventually fell in-sync with his before it found its own rhythm. He pulled her even closer to him as if he could protect her from her nightmares by physically shielding her from the night. Her suffering plucked at the fibers of his heart, and anger grumbled in his gut. Leia never told Han what Darth Vader did to her on the Death Star before he and Luke rescued her, but that didn't discourage his imagination. He suspected that the worse he imagined wasn't nearly as bad as what she went through.

And Leia's experience on the Death Star hadn't ended with her rescue. Nightmares plagued Leia since he knew her, and Han was aware that she had many sleepless nights. She came to him looking for sleeping aids to avoid anyone knowing about her nightmare-induced insomnia. She didn't even want Luke to know. Leia didn't have to ask Han for the pills most of the time; the remnants of fear in her tired eyes was enough to tip off Han. When she came looking for him on the Millennium Falcon late in the night or early morning, he retrieved the pills from the medical bay and slipped them into her hand. She'd offer him a sad closed-mouth smile and leave without a word. He made it a point to stay up late just in case she needed his help. Han suspected that the sleeping aids didn't help much; she was often up and about when daylight broke, but it was the only way he knew how to help her.

If only he could take away her pain. Leia was so young when she endured Vader's torture, when she lost her world and those she loved. Han wondered what she was like before she endured. Was she relaxed? Did she smile more often? Laugh with abandon like she did the first night they were here on Ord Mantell? Did she have someone special who she was not afraid to love? Was she carefree?

Was Leia ever carefree?

Han suspected Leia never had that luxury. Being a senator and leader of the rebellion in her teens didn't leave much time for fun. He knew the heavy weight that pressed down on her shoulders as she worked to live up to her father's expectations. Han didn't know what that was like; no one ever expected much of him. Not even Leia.

Han stared at the ceiling. No, Leia had expectations of him. She expected him to let her down. She expected him to break her heart. And he was on his way to living up to those expectations.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Solo lay next to Leia and listened to the gentle snore escaping through her parted lips. A string of drool slipped out of the side her mouth. He smiled; the always-put-together princess snores and drools. Han yawned, carefully extracted his arm from underneath her, and rubbed the sleep out of his tingling arm. Yes, he could get used to waking up next to her. No, he was already used to it. A pinch of disappointment snapped his heart. This time that he had been spending her—despite the circumstances that brought them here—was fleeting. Things would probably go back to normal between them once they were back on the base.

Han got up, grabbed his clothes, and went to the refresher. At least the threat she faced back on the base was resolved. His blood boiled; the assassin had been caught, and Han dreaded the moment when Leia found out who it was. He couldn't bring himself to tell her, not yet; she seemed happy in the moment. She'd be devastated when she found out the truth.

Han looked at himself in the mirror. How would Leia feel when she found out and he wasn't the one to tell her? There was no doubt she'd be upset with him. Would she hate him? Feel betrayed? Omitting the truth was just as bad as a lie. Han had to tell her. However, Leia hadn't asked about the assassin, not even about the process being made of catching him. She hadn't even mentioned the rebellion in the last two days. Maybe Han had succeeded in providing her with the vacation she deserved.

Han had kept his conversation with Chewbacca a secret, always contacting him when she was in the refresher or when he was out procuring them meals. Did she suspect Han knew more about the assassin than he let on? She would've asked by now if she did. No, maybe she just trusted him to tell her. She would hate him for not being more forthcoming with the information he had.

However, Leia loved him; would his lie of omission be forgiven? Would she understand why he didn't tell her?

Han finished his morning routine and pulled on his boots. He walked over to the side of the bed where Leia lay. She slept on her back with one hand curled next to her head. Her chest rose and fell with even breaths. Han took his fore- and middle finger and brushed the locks of hair that covered her face. He sighed. Although dark circles under her eyes marred her pallid skin—a sure sign of a sleep debt—she still looked beautiful to him. Her peaceful expression chased away his thoughts about the assassin. Leia's cheeks had lost the baby fat, revealing her cheekbones that enhanced her maturing face. Did he miss the baby-fat swollen cheeks?

Somewhat. While she remained idealistic and determined, Leia's naive optimism seemed to melt away with her baby-fat. Han wasn't sure if he mourned her starry-eyed credulity, he appreciated the confidence that she could change the galaxy. She had not lost that belief, and while it made her single-minded and unavailable for "frivolous" things, it was one of the reasons he loved her. She inspired him to look for the positive in his life; that was something he never did. His life seemed bleak and hopeless before her. He saw himself doing the same thing—smuggling and running from bounty hunters—for the rest of his life. Leia made him contemplate the possibility that he could find something (maybe someone) to believe in. Their arguments and rounds-of-wills were changing him for the better.

Han rose, walked to the kitchenette, and poured a glass of water. He then pulled the chair next to the bed and propped his feet up on it. He sipped the water as he waited for Leia to wake. He didn't have to wait long. She stirred before she arched her back, stretched her arms over her head, and wiggled her toes. She opened her eyes, and when she saw him, she smiled.

"Good morning, sleepy head," he said.

Leia yawned. "What time is it?"

"Does it matter?"

"We have to deliver the cargo to Earos."

"Later."

Han held out the glass of water to her. Leia sat up and took it from him. She drank several gulps before handing the glass back. Han finished off the water and gazed at her with a lop-sided smile.

Her brow furrowed. "What?"

His smile widened.

"You drool in your sleep."

"I do not," she asserted but felt the pillow. She pursed her lips. "Okay, maybe I do, but you…you…"

"What?"

"Snore. You kept me up half the night."

"You were dead in your sleep, Your Worship."

She huffed and rolled her eyes. Then she folded her arms across her chest.

"So what?"

Han shrugged.

"Did you have fun last night?"

"Yes. You?"

"I wouldn't call that fun, Your Worship."

"You're the one who seeks out trouble."

"You're mistaking me for you."

"Who interrupted a pretty good game of Sabaac?"

"I saved you from the inevitable end of that game. You need to learn how to lose."

"I guess I should take lessons from you."

Han gazed at her unfazed by her words.

"Why are you still wearing that stupid grin?"

"You love me."

"What?"

"You. Love. Me."

"And why do you say that?"

"You told me last night."

Leia's cheeks pinkened and her eyes widened and retracted as memories of the night before replayed in her mind.

"I did not."

Han smiled wider. "Yes, you did. You said, 'I. Love. You.' Twice even."

"I meant— "

"And not like Luke."

Her pink cheeks reddened.

"You can't tell me you don't remember."

"You misheard me. I said, 'I don't love you.'"

"No, you didn't."

Leia opened and closed her mouth and huffed. "I was drunk. I'm sure I said many meaningless things."

Han raised an eyebrow. "You told me twice." He held up two fingers. "If it meant nothing, you wouldn't have said it twice and with the emphasis you did."

"I was drunk—I"

"Your inhibitions were lowered."

"I—I…"

Han crossed his arms over his chest. "Admit it. You love me."

"Your delusional."

"You're just afraid to admit it because I'm leavin'."

Leia's face fell, and Han regretted reminding her.

"Life is short, Princess. You need to give in to what you want."

"Who says I want you?"

"You did. Admit it."

"There's nothing to admit."

"Admit it."

"Never."

Han put his hands behind his head and tipped his chair back so that it stood on two legs.

"One day you will."

"Don't be so sure of that."

"You will."

Leia narrowed her eyes on him, rose out of bed, and walked over to him. She lifted her foot and pushed it his knee. Han's arms flailed as he tried to prevent himself from falling. To no avail. He found himself lying on his back with his legs in the air. Leia stood over him, smiled wickedly, and disappeared into the refresher.

Han smiled to himself and spoke to no one. "She definitely loves me."