Luke jumped out of his X-Wing and shoved his flight helmet into the hands of a tech before dashing away. He ran, hurtling around the corner, until he came to the medbay. Then he slowed a bit, looking for the right room. No one had bothered to tell him that. Someone was in the bacta tank, burns still healing, floating like- Luke could only imagine, since he had no real-life reference- some underwater sea plant.
Leia was three down, a curtain drawn instead of a door. Not much privacy, he noted. She wouldn't like that.
She was on a cot, hair still improbably styled in two buns over her ears, lying on her back. A white sheet covered her, and he was transported for a moment, to the Leia of the Death Star he'd met only months ago. She would open her eyes, take him in: note his rushing, the almost-panic, the concern; she would say something biting and sharp. He couldn't imagine what on his own, not having that trait himself, of being clever or quick.
The bed was elevated a bit. She looked- like she was sleeping. Pretty, Luke gulped, but pale. Like herself, only her brown eyes weren't taking everything in. Her hands were out of the sheet, a monitor over one thumb, and they almost met over her mid-section. The rest of her was... formless. Luke swallowed. He didn't like this. He was scared.
Han was there already. At her bedside, chair drawn so close his knees were crammed against the metal bed frame. He was hunched over, elbows on his knees, and he had her two hands in his. He looked more uncomfortable than she did.
"Han," Luke said breathlessly. "I got here soon as I could."
One of Han's thumbs brushed her knuckles. He only nodded.
"What- how- what's going on?" Luke said.
"Frigate came under attack."
"That's what I heard. Where? The Empire? Did they get away?"
Han nodded once, but Luke had no idea which of his questions Han answered.
Luke dragged over a chair and set it opposite Han's, on the other side of the bed, his knees pushing against the bed frame. He couldn't fathom what happened, or how, or how they got here, and how the Empire didn't.
"Where were you?" he asked Han.
"I just got back."
"Damn." Luke watched Han's thumb go back and forth, back and forth, over the rises of the knuckles on the back of Leia's hand.
"She'll be fine."
"Good." Luke sat back a little.
"They say."
"Well, trust 'em, Han. It's their job. Just like ours-"
"Yeah."
Luke ran his tongue over his lips because Leia's looked dry, "She wouldn't have been on that frigate if we were around."
Han glanced up sharply. "That's the stupidest thing I've heard you say."
"Maybe not. She prefers your ship. You know that. Because of- And I would have gotten a feeling. You know. Something bad. And we'd talk her out of it."
"Then I'd come under attack and you'd be visiting me."
Luke shook his head. "I might look in on you. I'd stay with her."
Han scoffed. "'Course you would."
"Well, she doesn't have anyone," Luke argued. "And you've got Chewie."
"He wouldn't be holdin' my hand, I can tell you that."
Luke looked at Han's hands holding Leia's. "Can I have a hand?" he asked shyly, because he wanted to share in this demonstration, this worry for Leia.
"Get your own."
"She's only got two," Luke objected. "And you've got 'em both."
"Finders keepers."
"That's not how it works. You didn't find them, Han. They're hers, and she'd let me-"
"Early bird gets the worm."
"Well, yeah. Sure. You got back before me. But it's different, isn't it? We're not first to get the pickings. We're not eating. A friend of ours, a good friend, is hurt. And we're showing we care. I want to show I care. So come on, let me hold a hand."
Han pulled her hands closer to him. Luke couldn't believe what a baby Han was being, and he put his hands over Han's, and started to pull Leia's hands- poor, sleeping, injured Leia- toward him.
Her brow furrowed, and she moaned.
Han and Luke froze, the pile of hands immobilized. Both pairs of eyes were fixed on her face.
"Let go," Luke whispered.
Han nodded. "You first."
They slid their hands back at the same time. They watched her carefully for more signs of pain, or anything.
After a while, Han said, "I felt sick, coming in here."
"Well," Luke looked around. "I could take your blood pressure. I've seen 'em do it."
"Not that kind of sick," Han snapped.
"Oh, you mean- Yeah," Luke agreed. "I was so scared when I heard. All I could think running from the hangar was pleasepleaseplease."
"Not very useful," Han said.
"Why are you so competitive?" Luke asked.
"I'm what?"
"Competitive. Why do you get to hold both hands? What'll that do, score points with her?"
"No." Han shook his head. "Look at her. She doesn't know."
"I'm sure it's the first thing you'd tell her."
"Not the first." Han let a ghost of a grin show. "I'd let her get her strength back first."
"Oh, so you like being yelled at." That explained a lot, Luke thought. It explained the yelling, and maybe a few other things. "Would you want Chewie to hold your hand? Ever had a reason someone would grab your hand?"
"You mean glad for the company or scared shitless I'm gonna die?"
Luke thought about it. "Both," he decided. "I haven't been in either situation. But I'd like to think, since meeting you two, my hand would get held."
Han snorted. "Keep dreaming, kid."
"And that's just it. You do, don't you?" Luke asked. "Keep dreaming."
"Leia 'n' I are not gonna get in a fight over your two hands," Han said.
Luke smiled. "I'm not gonna fight her for yours, either," he said. "But I think she would hold yours."
Han said nothing, but he looked at Leia asleep on the cot.
A Two One B entered, and without making any comment to the two men on either side of the bed, took some readings.
"How is she?" Luke twisted around to ask the departing med droid. His question went ignored, and Luke shrugged at Han.
"I'm gonna put in to stay," he mentioned to Han, "until I know for sure she's all right."
Han nodded at him. "Keep dreaming," he said again.
Luke laughed. "Yeah. I'll switch, then. I can't- how can they expect us to leave her, when we don't know-"
Han was still nodding. "I'm stayin' too." His eyes lifted to Luke. "It's the last thing I'd expect from me, to, to-" he stuttered.
"To stay," Luke finished for him. "To care, even." He cocked his head mischievously at Han. "Does it hurt?"
"A hell's lot it does!"
Luke rose, and fished the implement he saw Two One B place in a drawer. He came around to Han's side of the cot. "Here, let me take your blood pressure."
Han swatted him away, but Luke was chuckling.
"Give me your hand," Luke cajoled.
Han stood and the two men slapped at each other, half-playful and completely silent, except for the noise of the slaps.
A weak voice called from the bed, "What are you two doing?"
Immediately, Luke and Han snapped at attention.
"Han's not feeling well," Luke said in explanation.
"Call security," Han told the not-quite-awake Leia. She was squinting and frowning. "Luke needs to be escorted from the bay."
"I think I heard you idiots." It looked like speaking hurt Leia's head. "Please go. I order you to hold hands out of my room."
Luke looked at Han, who stared back with raised brows.
"Go," she said. "I hold my own hand."
"You were dreaming," Han said.
Luke grabbed Han's hand. "Come on. We'll check in on you later, Leia."
"Let go." Han tried to tug his hand out of Luke's.
"No. I'm following orders. If it's Leia's last desire-"
"Oh my gods," Han rolled his eyes.
"We'll do it. Heal quick, Leia," Luke called.
"Sweet dreams, Princess," Han told her.
Leia shut her eyes. All she remembered about the frigate attack was feeling helpless and fierce, and later surprised that she was alive.
But Han and Luke eased that surprise. She was alive. She felt so groggy, but she was going to have to remember this, the sight of them holding hands as they left her room.