CHAPTER 11:
The cries of a child, the coarse material of the little girl's dress, the stampeding feet in the street, the screech of blaster fire, the white hot pain that jolted through her body, the gravel slammed into her skin, the jerk and jostling of her body, so much blaster fire. Leia closed her eyes against it all, wanting to push it all away.
"Leia! Open your eyes! Leia!"
The first thing she was aware of was the intense burning near her shoulder, the trembling of her body, and his hands pressed against her. She opened her eyes to find Han hovering over her, his hazel eyes bearing down on her in a way she had never seen him look at her before. Her head began to spin.
"How is she?" she heard Crag ask as he continued to fire at the Imperials.
Han looked up at Crag, pressed his lips together, and then turned his hazel eyes back to her. She thougt she saw Crag nod before he returned to the fire fight.
"You're going to be okay," the uncertainy in Han's voice countered his words. "The medic's coming."
She lay back down, "I've been shot."
"Yeah."
She took a moment to absorb this fact. Eight months ago, she endured the torture at Vader's hand and survived. She witnessed the destruction of her homeworld and managed to go on. She escaped the Death Star unscathed. She thought she was invincible, that nothing could touch her, but here she lay struck down by a blaster. Han's hands were pressed hard against her as he tried to control the bleeding. She was vaguely aware of the pain. There was something more important, something she had to remember…
"The little girl?" Leia's large brown eyes searched Han's face.
"She's okay," he wouldn't meet her quizzical eyes.
Leia's body went limp and she closed her eyes as a single tear slid down the side of her face.
"Where's the medic?" Han shouted.
The little girl…She was so close.
"Leia?" Han placed a hand on her temple and stroked her skin with his thumb, "Leia, open your eyes, Sweetheart."
She squeezed her eyes tight to stem the tears before she responded to his entreat. She gazed up at him, "How bad?"
Han inhaled, "Let's wait for the medic."
"That bad," she weakly smiled up at him.
"Nah," he forced a smile, "I just want a professional opinion."
"The little girl…"
"Sh," Han touched a finger to her lips. "You did good."
But I failed, she wanted to say but she didn't have the strength. That poor little girl dying in the street , having to see her mother die before her own death. Did she feel the same pain Leia felt? Did she feel her life seeping from her body? Or were the fates merciful, granting the girl instant death? She hoped for the latter but the fates were rarely kind.
"I'm cold," she closed her eyes again.
"Leia, you gotta stay awake, Sweetheart," she felt him drape his jacket over her body.
Stay awake? All she wanted to do was sleep, she was so tired. Her breaths became shallow as her mind wandered away. Death tarried, beckoning her to give in. Her father was dead, all her family members, friends, people she should have protected. All gone.
"Leia!" Han slapped her face.
She blinked her large brown eyes open. Where was she?
"Where's that medic!"
You should be dead…
I know.
How easy it would be to let go. No more pain, no more guilt, regret…
You should have died on the Death Star…
"You're going to be okay, Sweetheart."
Leia looked into Han's worried hazel eyes and marveled at the raw emotion. Worried about her. Suddenly she felt bad that she caused him such worry, questioned her decision to try to save the little girl, especially since her actions did no good. She didn't want to hurt him. But why would he be hurt? When did it happen, she having the ability to hurt him?
"Don't look so worried," she breathed, trying to comfort him.
"I'm not worried," he smiled down at her. "There's nothing to worry about."
Not everyone was gone, she ammended her earlier thoughts as she favored Han with a small smile. Leia fought to keep her eyes open, but her fatigue overtook her, and her world went black.