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“How’re you doing?” Han asked, trying to keep the worry out of his voice, as he and Lando stumbled through the forest.
“Fine.” Lando replied, through gritted teeth, as he leaned heavily on Han, one arm around his shoulders, Han’s arm around his waist.
“We’ll be back at the ship before you know it.” Han said lightly, as if they were out for a stroll, rather than hurrying back after a fight in which Lando had been injured.
Lando just nodded, clutching his stomach, where he had been grazed by a stray blaster shot. Han reached up to his shoulder, where Lando’s hand lay, entwining his fingers with Lando’s, giving a gentle squeeze.
Lando didn’t reply. Han didn’t like the silence, or the way Lando was becoming more and more reliant on Han in order to walk.
“Hey, not far now.” Han kept his voice light. He didn’t know how to act, on the rare occasions one of them was injured or hurt, it was usually Han, not Lando. This situation was unusual and Han was worried. Not scared, he couldn’t admit to that, but anxious. Worried.
For a few moments, there was nothing but heavy breathing and the sound of them brushing through the dense undergrowth.
But then, mercifully, Lando broke the silence, “Y’know, next time, I’ll just let you handle the fighting. After all,” He coughed. “You are so very good at talking your way out of stupid situations that you get yourself into.”
“Got myself?! …. It was you who-” Han bristled, trying to contain his annoyance, while at the same time still supporting Lando. “Ok.” He reluctantly admitted, still so very worried about Lando, “I’m sorry. Don’t like seeing you hurt. Ever.”
“What? You think I’ve enjoyed the million times I’ve patched you up?” Lando sniffed, trying to maintain his composure, “I guess you know how it feels now.”
“I do.” Han hugged Lando close, “I really do.”