Leia was hiding something from him. Han couldn't see her face well enough to confirm by sight the way he normally would, but the tightness in her voice and the odd answers she had given to questions he didn't think were outrageous considering the circumstances betrayed more than she probably knew.

When he had first heard her voice nearby, before the skiff started moving through the wretched deserts of Tatooine, he had reached in her direction, longing to feel her in his arms again. Leia had gripped his hands in hers, pressed them to his own chest, and murmured, "Don't touch me right now, hotshot," before kissing his cheek and leaving his side.

'Don't touch me right now, hotshot'? Han couldn't remember the last time Leia had instructed him to not touch her, at least not since they had been together. We're still…Are we still…? He had assumed given what she had said when she released him from the carbonite, how desperately she had kissed him, that nothing had changed on her end.

Eleven months is a long time, though, some part of his mind reminded him. It's more unbelievable that she didn't move on.

Han swayed with the movement of the sand skiff, still a little shaky, still a little nauseous. He knew he was dehydrated and getting worse by the minute under the relentless heat of Tatooine's twin suns, but he couldn't come up with the best steps to take to remedy that. He held on to the edge of the skiff for dear life, hoping to someday feel…not like this.

Leia returned, tucking some sort of rough fabric over his shoulders. "There's a hood if you want some relief from the sun," she said. She lifted something to his lips before he had a chance to feel for the hood. "You need water," she said, picking up his hand and placing it on a container — a canteen? — before ordering him to drink.

Han did as she said and waited for nausea to hit him full-force the way it had in the cell at Jabba's overnight, but it actually seemed to calm down. Leia waited until he had consumed the entire container before taking it from him, setting it somewhere, and finally, finally slipping her arms around him and resting her head gingerly against his chest.

His scan grid wounds were still fresh, as were the bruises left by stormtroopers — apparently months in hibernation didn't allow for much healing to take place — but Han felt desperate to hold Leia close regardless. He hadn't been entirely aware of the passage of time in the suspended state, but some part of him could feel that Chewie's claims he had been gone nearly a year were accurate, and that part of him needed her to stay right exactly where she was for…well, forever maybe.

He wrapped his arms around her blindly and was quickly made aware of the fact that her body shook beneath the thick, rough fabric she was draped in. Over the sound of the wind blowing past them, he heard her choke out a soft sob.

Han lowered his head so he could talk to her quietly, his lips as close to her ear as he could manage while mostly blind. "You all right?"

He felt her nod and heard her inhale deeply. "I missed you."

Han aimed roughly for the top of her head, pressing his lips to sweaty hair before lifting his hand to feel for her face. "Leia," he said hoarsely, going through the familiar motion of cupping her cheek in his hand. He slid his fingers down her jaw to her neck, wanting to touch as much of her as he could, to anchor himself to the realness of her. "I—" His pinky brushed against something metal resting low on her throat, causing him to break off abruptly. Han squinted, attempting to see anything concrete in the bright blur that made up his field of vision.

Giving up on his attempts to make out what was on her body with his eyes alone, he felt the wide metal band—collar? Was she wearing a—? When he felt the few links of chain dangling from the collar, white-hot rage burned through him. Jabba. Jabba kept his slave girls in collars with chains. But they also got stripped down to almost nothing and—

Don't touch me right now, hotshot.

Han realized very abruptly that Leia was holding the ends of a cloak of some sort around her body, shielding herself not just from the beating sun, but likely from the eyes of the others as well. He hadn't realized he had slipped his hand under the cloth when he felt the collar, but now that he was aware, he touched her shoulder gingerly. His fingertips met skin; her entire shoulder was bare.

Han wrapped his arms around her again, and bent his neck to speak as closely to her ear as possible. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

She inhaled shakily, cheek pressed against his chest. "I'll be fine."

Her assurance didn't calm his anger, though Han was hesitant to let her see just how livid he was with everyone else on the skiff. Leia wouldn't have firsthand knowledge of the horrors that awaited nearly any female sentient that entered Mos Espa. Even if she'd been told, even if she'd done extensive research, he didn't think she'd fully grasp just how bad it could be without seeing it in person. But Lando and Chewie knew Jabba. Luke was from Tatooine. They all knew, and they hadn't stopped her from joining in on the chaotic and foolhardy mission to rescue his worthless hide.

Han lifted his head and looked for figures in the midst of the bright haze. He attempted to focus on the person he felt the least amount of conflict about abandoning in the middle of the desert if it came down to it, determining his identity by height. "Lando!"

"Something wrong?" Lando's voice came from behind Han, startling him. He squinted at the figure he had assumed was the traitor, realizing in a moment that it seemed almost shiny in the midday suns. Threepio. He scowled, the mere thought of the droid's name feeling like an oath.

Han turned toward Lando's voice, pulling Leia closer as he did so. "Why the hell was she within fifty klicks of Mos Espa?"

Han felt Leia tense and tug on his hand. He tightened his arm around her reassuringly and ran his palm up and down her back.

"That wasn't—" Lando began, but Luke cut him off.

"Lando was following orders, Han. Cut him a break."

Han scowled. "Lando followin' orders is how I ended up frozen in the first place, kid. And I can't believe you of all people dragged her along on a mission like this. Do you know what Jabba does to—"

Leia tensed again, this time pulling away from Han and distracting him entirely from finishing his sentence. He reached for her, fingertips brushing over the rough fabric she had wrapped around her body. Petite, familiar hands cupped his cheeks, and he realized far, far too late that she had said his name several times in the midst of his griping.

"You need to not get worked up," Leia warned. "We still don't know the condition of your cardiovascular system."

Han blinked and gestured vaguely in the direction of a humanlike shape. "You coulda really been hurt because of—"

"Because of my own choices. Which were made with warnings from Luke, Chewie, and Lando at the forefront of my mind." She must have risen up on her toes because her voice suddenly seemed closer to his ear. "And I would make the same choices again if given the chance." She kissed his cheek and stroked her fingers along the edge of his jaw. "Now, you need to sit down, be still, and rest, because if you die of cardiac arrest after we went through all of that, I will kill you."

Han scowled again and rolled his eyes. "Sounds like I won't care all that much 'cause I'll already be dead," he said, sitting — not because he'd been told to, but because he thought it was a good idea.

Leia swept a damp lock of hair off his forehead and placed her hands on his cheeks again. "Rest assured, I will find a way to bring you back so I can murder you properly." The irritated determination in her voice was so familiar, Han could picture the exact expression on her face without needing to see her clearly.

He smirked. "Threats are only threatenin' if you can follow through, sweetheart."

She huffed indignantly, and Han couldn't stop himself from smiling. "You're actually doubting my abilities right now? I just strangled a—"

"Sorry to interrupt, but is this flirting?"

Han jerked his head in the direction of Luke's voice, slightly annoyed that his sparring with Leia had been interrupted, even if the banter had devolved into something nonsensical.

"What?"

Luke hesitated. "It's just, before, you both would've said it wasn't flirting, but…it's flirting, right?"

"Does it matter?" Leia asked coolly.

"Just trying to get up to speed."

[It is flirting,] Chewie confirmed.

Han wanted to glare at his copilot, but…well…he wasn't wrong, exactly, and it wasn't like Leia was denying anything, either. She kept running her fingers through his hair, had dropped more than one quick kiss on his forehead, and seemed intent on maintaining physical contact with him for the rest of time, or at least the rest of the skiff ride.

Leia stroked Han's temple before wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her cheek against his. "I missed you so much," she murmured.

He wished he could see her clearly, wished he could see what she had avoided telling him, what marks Jabba and his cronies had no doubt left on her body. He cleared his throat softly and addressed Leia in a low voice. "Did anyone hurt you?"

"Can we talk about it later?" she asked, stroking his hair gently. "I'll tell you everything, just…later."

The same white-hot rage from before blazed through his veins. "I'll kill him."

"Already took care of that," Leia said.

Han blinked. He knew there had been some explosions, that Luke, Lando, and Chewie hadn't seemed overly worried about making a quick getaway once they were all on the skiff, but he hadn't asked what had happened. Had Leia really taken out Jabba herself?

"What'd you do, Princess?"

"I took care of it." She pressed her lips to his passionately, and while Han didn't doubt the genuineness of the affection, he did wonder if the kiss was a partial distraction tactic. "I'll tell you everything. Later."

He truthfully didn't have much fight in him, at least not enough to go head-to-head with Leia in that moment. His energy had been rapidly declining ever since the initial bump of adrenaline from the fight with Jabba's entourage had dissipated. Besides, she didn't lie; if she said she'd tell him everything, she'd tell him everything.

Han slid his arms around Leia and leaned his head against her. She was still standing, he was pretty sure — it was the only explanation for the fact that his head seemed to come up to her shoulder. He pressed his cheek against the thick, scratchy fabric she had wrapped around herself, exhaustion descending on him with a speed and intensity he could not escape.

He could see. Everything was still fuzzy, and looking toward any light source caused pain to shoot through his head, but he could see. Leia was nearby, sitting on the deckplates next to the medbunk, knees drawn to her chest and her eyes closed. Her hair was in a simple braid, and she wore one of his old T-shirts over her own leggings. It was a sight he had grown used to during that slow crawl to Bespin — Leia in casual attire, her only options other than her snowsuit being a pieced together wardrobe of her underlayers and his clothing — and one he had hoped he'd have a chance to see many more times.

She seemed to be asleep, so Han took the opportunity to look at her as much as he could through half-closed eyes. The bridge of her nose was pink from sun exposure, her cheeks were hollow, her lips chapped and peeling, her eyes bordered by dark circles…and she remained the most beautiful person he'd ever seen.

He shifted in the bunk and let out an involuntary groan, feeling every ache and pain leftover from his long-ago encounter with Vader and stormtroopers meshed with the lingering effects of hibernation sickness. Leia jerked awake immediately, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and scrambling to her feet so she could get a better look at him.

"I'm here, Han," she said, her voice shaky as she stroked his hair from his forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"You're so beautiful," he mumbled, his mind and tongue feeling clumsy. "Don't think I say it enough."

Leia's eyes lit up. "You can see me?"

Han nodded, sending the room spinning and his stomach lurching. He screwed his eyes shut, dull pain radiating through his head. "Vision's back. Hurts."

"It hurts to see?" Leia asked. She touched his temple and rubbed her fingers in gentle circles.

He shook his head slightly, not wanting to dislodge her soothing touch. "Everything hurts."

"That's to be expected. Your body's been through a lot."

Her hand fell away and Han's stomach dropped in panic. "Leia," he gasped, opening his eyes. She had only taken a couple of steps to the side and seemed to be retrieving something from a drawer of supplies.

"I'm still here," she assured him. "You needed another round of electrolytes half an hour ago but I fell asleep. I'm…I'm sorry."

He settled on his back, eyes closed. He felt the cool tingle of disinfectant being applied to his arm followed by the pinch of a needle. He reached for Leia, raising his eyelids slightly so he could focus in the right direction. "C'mere."

Leia returned to his side, stroking his hair and speaking in a low tone. "Shh. You're okay. You're here."

"Need you here," he said, clumsily patting the bunk next to him.

"I'll get tangled in your IV, hotshot." She pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"When it's done, then."

"I thought you hurt everywhere," she countered gently. "I don't want to make it worse."

"You bein' far away makes it worse."

Leia chuckled softly and said something about his definition of far away, but Han was already nosediving wildly toward unconsciousness.

He woke again when she removed the IV from his arm, and felt the mattress beneath him dip slightly as she crawled gingerly into the medbunk next to him. Han opened his eyes enough to locate her before sliding his arm around her shoulders. He trailed his fingers down her arm, stopping when he reached her blistered palm. Han lifted her hand to get a better look at the injury.

His stomach sank examining the angry looking bubbles of skin. She wouldn't have been there if it wasn't for me, he thought, eyes darting to the ring of raw skin around her neck, an unfortunate souvenir from the collar. Han lifted her hand to his lips and brushed gentle, light kisses from her fingertips to her wrist before reaching over and touching the mark on her neck.

"You said you'd tell me everything," he murmured.

"I did say that, didn't I?" Leia placed her hand flat against his chest for a moment before resting two fingers over a pulse point on his neck.

Han nearly rolled his eyes. "My heart's fine, Leia. Scan came back okay." He slid his fingers against her scalp, his thumb resting in front of her ear.

She closed her eyes, a weak smile on her lips. "I don't think it's as bad as whatever you're imagining." She looked at him. "They took me to a room, and changed me into that thing. I wasn't allowed to remove my own clothing. They said it was a safety thing, that since they knew I had a thermal detonator, they didn't want to risk me pulling another weapon, but two of them…" She shuddered. "They looked and touched more than they helped."

Han tightened his arm around her, anger with Jabba, with the Empire, with Lando, with himself flowing through him.

Leia's tone was even and controlled. "Someone told me Jabba would use me as a reward for some of his favorite contractors, but Luke showed up before that could be arranged. I was humiliated having to sit there in that awful outfit, and I was touched and looked at a few times in ways that felt…unsafe and unwelcome. But they didn't—" Her voice broke, the calm facade cracking. A sob shook her body, and she buried her face in Han's neck. "It could have been much worse," she mumbled against his skin.

He tightened his arm around her. "Doesn't matter that it coulda been worse," he said. "Shouldn't've happened at all. Sweetheart, I'm so sorry." His voice cracked with emotion. He wanted to apologize again and again, all while feeling as if no apology he offered could possibly be enough.

She let out a shuddery breath and reached up to stroke Han's cheek. "I'm just glad you're alive."

Why? he wondered bitterly. If he hadn't been in this mess to begin with, she'd never have been humiliated and violated the way she had been.

Unable to see any part of the situation for which he wasn't at least partially to blame, self-loathing overtook him. He wondered how she could possibly stand to speak to him, much less go to all the trouble of taking care of him while he was in this useless state.

"And I'm glad that none of us have to worry about Jabba ever again," she continued before he could put words to his thoughts.

Han cleared his throat softly. "Heard the explosion from the barge," he said. "We're sure he went up in that? Otherwise, he'll be even more pissed."

"He was dead before the barge exploded," Leia said softly. "I strangled him with the chain that was attached to that collar."

He looked at her in wonder, picking up her hand to examine the blisters again, their presence making more sense. How did she manage…How? Others had certainly tried to kill Jabba over the centuries, though Han didn't think many had attempted to strangle the Hutt. Leia was strong and unbelievably capable, but she was still small. Han didn't think he and Chewie together would be able to pull off such a feat, but she had managed it by herself?

"Incredible," he murmured.

"Now you don't have to leave us again. Unless you want to."

Han pushed against her shoulder gently so she would look at him. Her eyes were watery, and he was willing to do damn near anything to dry her tears. "Never wanted to leave in the first place," he said. "You're stuck with me for good if ya want me, Princess. Though, I'd be surprised if you'd even wanna look at me considerin' it's my fault you went through all that."

Leia shook her head and kissed him passionately. When they parted, she rested her head against his shoulder again, her hand lingering on his cheek. "I'm glad you're back. I want you here with me." She brushed her thumb over his skin, the rhythmic movement soothing. "I love you."

Han squeezed her weakly. "I love you, too," he murmured. That same irresistible exhaustions from before felt near again, but he wasn't too worried about it. With Leia close, he knew he could rest easy.

A/N: I'm not gonna lie, when I wrote Han confusing Threepio for Lando, I didn't know they were canonically the same height. Really felt like I lucked out on that one as soon as I checked Wookieepedia.