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"Momma, can my dad take me to bed this time."
Han didn't have to see for himself to notice the look Leia was giving him. He doesn’t need The Force to tell that she’s exuding apprehension. He's just a kid , he tries to reason with himself. However, he knows that's not true. This kid is a genius.
His son.
It was bound to happen sooner or later.
"Sure, kiddo." he said nonchalantly, as he rose up from his seat. He checked on Leia before following after their son. With her back turned to him, Han shortly reflects on all the arguments they have had the past couple of years now. They all start the same, with his wife taking Ben to bed. They all end the same too, with Han leaving. Only to come back around after months of not being home.
"It's my job"
"He's your son." she reminded.
Han reaches the door frame to his child's room. It shouldn't be this awkward, but he can't shake the feeling that he's walking on thin ice at the moment. He distracts himself by looking over at Ben who's currently fixing his bed, putting his toys to the side. He can't stop himself from thinking, since when did he get all these toys? Suddenly that familiar shitty feeling is back.
He reaches over for one of Ben's little chairs and plots it by his bed. His adult body crouches awkwardly onto the child's seat. Ben is wrapped in his sheets and looking over at him now. He can't help but feel like he's being judged. Not a fan of the silence any longer, Han starts, "So... what does your mom usually do when she takes you to bed?"
Ben looks down at his own tiny hands, suddenly very interested in his fingers. "... she tucks me in." Han's face lights up. Seems like a simple way to start, until he looks down and notices that his son had already tucked himself in.
Great...
Han can already feel the frustration well up within. He wants to call it a night, and not have to deal with this. Any of this. He's changed now though, or at least that's what he wants to believe. He wants to reject the thought of him not being cut out for this kind of role. To not think so hard on how this wouldn't have happened if he were more cautious. How much easier it'd be to just have Leia handle this.
Like how she's been doing for how long already. Too long.
"Dad..."
Han is snapped out of his intrusive thoughts. He looks at Ben once more, waiting for him to continue.
"...Can you tell me a story?"
Han clears his throat, and nods as he twists to look around for a nearby book. He's about to reach for one nearby on
the floor until,
"No... 'tell' me..." It takes him a while to follow the meaning behind his son's request. Once it registers, Han starts to realize where this might be going. He decides to play along.
He tells his son stories that only he can tell of. His travels with Chewbacca, encounters with some dealers, simple memories he thinks might be entertaining to a child Ben's age. He's pretty sure he catches a glimpse of Leia listening in as she passes by the open door.
However, Han knows there's more to it than that. He can tell by the way Ben looks at him. Again, his son is a really smart kid. Not once did Ben comment. Not once did he inquire about a little detail, ask for clarification, request a specific type of reflection, none of that. He just listened, and as Han continued, so did his stories.
His excuses.
After telling the story where Chewie was stuck listening to an old family friend while Han desperately tried to distract any scavengers from finding their cargo, he stops. He notices how Ben's eyes are beginning to tire. Han wonders if this is the part where he bids goodnight. If this is his son's way of telling him he's cleared.
"Do you have fun at your job?" his son asks with sleep creeping in his already soft spoken voice. Han takes a moment to think over his answer. He tries to convey it in a way that his son will understand, hoping that he won't take it the wrong way.
"Yeah," is the answer Han decides to go with. "Yeah, it's pretty fun... I guess. It's a lot of work, and can be a bit frustrating at times... but it's worth it." Ben's reaction, with his downcast eyes, isn't so assuring. Han doesn't want to be the cause of that look. He reaches over and gently strokes his son's hair.
"Ben," he does his best to choose his words carefully. "Look, I know I haven't been around much lately... but I'm going to make it up to you." Han makes sure to hold eye contact with his son when he says this, "You and I got a lot of catching up to do... Y'know I still want to show you a few things on the Falcon too. There's this one sector I came across the other day, it had an amazing-"
"Are you going to leave again?"
Han stills. It's a question, but it's sounds like a statement. He was waiting for this, but even still he's not ready. His throat feels dry, and it feels like his arms are beginning to numb. He doesn't want to look his son in the eyes anymore, he doesn’t deserve to. His fingers that were still within his son's hair slowly retreat.
As Han secures his hand over Ben's, he leans over and places a light kiss on his son's forehead. His son passes over the notion and instead closes his eyes. Han can tell he didn't want to play out this scene anymore. Never did he think it'd ever be possible for a child to look as emotionally exhausted as his does. Or rather, never did he want to accept that this is what it has come down to.
It's a while after Ben finally falls asleep ‘till Han moves from his spot again. He rises from the little chair, looking down at his son's sleeping form in silence. He's still for a moment, until he turns to walk out of the room. Han closes the door softly behind him, not wanting to make much noise. In hopes to not wake either his wife who is most likely asleep by now or his son. Both will be able to sense his absence sooner or later anyway. They're gifted like that.
He gathers his keys, coat, and other belongings, before making his way out of the house once more and straight to his ship. It isn't until he's set the coordinations to his next destination that he finally lets out a soft sigh. One he didn't realize he had been holding onto.
Han Solo is a smuggler, who has swindled his way out of many situations. With a little white lie here and there, he's managed to survive this long. When it comes to his son...
He's a terrible liar.