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She left him behind.
She’d left Luke behind, and now…
Leia bent double and threw up again, the contents of her stomach acidic and foul. Han gently pulled her hair back, but the brush of his calloused hands against her face felt like pins and needles, and she shuddered as he wound her hair into a loose but secure tie.
“W-where’d you learn to do hair?” she asked weakly, trying to distract herself.
Han rubbed her back. She wished he wouldn’t. Normally she would welcome the comfort, but right now the touch just made her feel disgusting. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to shake him off or tell him to go.
Han took a minute before answering. “Former girlfriend, Qi’ra.” He seemed like he wanted to say more, but didn’t.
Leia wasn’t going to press. She was a little preoccupied.
Suddenly she cried out, pain exploding her temples. She heaved again, but nothing came up. Shivering, she leaned back in Han’s arms.
“That bad, huh?” Han whispered.
Leia’s head pounded like all the heartbeats of the ghosts of Alderaan were trying to come alive again within her brain, crowded and…terrible. She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. She couldn’t respond to Han.
The Force, a wrinkled old frog whispered in her memory. Use the Force, should you…
Shuddering an exhale, Leia reached out, and up, and beyond. Her mind filled with the vast reaches of space. Dots of light glittered everywhere, stars and planets and life forces. Han, beside her, was brightest, but… There was a golden thread, weak but shimmering, dissolving in ragged edges but a middle as strong as durasteel, that stretched out, out, out, into space, and…
Nothingness.
Luke.
It was the faintest whisper, not even real sound, just the edge of a feeling, but it was familiar.
And it was unreachable.
“Nnng,” she groaned, rocking her head side to side. Han just held her. Without a word, he stroked her hair. “Hnnnnng.”
How much longer would this last? She’d asked Han to check her head for injury before, but despite her pointing exactly to where the pain was coming from, he’d said he couldn’t see anything. Which meant that this wasn’t her pain, not really. It was just something coming through her connection with Luke. Their connection, which had been cut off several days ago with only a brief scream of warning.
What was Luke suffering that it came through the block this strongly? Were his shields failing? Was he?
Leia felt faint. Maybe it was the fact that her stomach was beyond empty. Her mouth felt gross, anyway.
“Water,” she signed with one weak hand, but Han didn’t know Alderaanian Sign. The remembrance made her want to—to—scream, cry, claw her skin off, kill Tarkin again. Kill the Emperor, kill his whole damn Empire, tear it to smithereens like her entire culture, her entire people, her entire planet. Her parents.
Her family.
Everything she was.
She missed Commander Antilles.
ARE YOU WELL? The demand blared through the Force, louder than the concussion that may or may not actually have been scattering Leia’s braincells.
“Make it stop,” she whispered aloud. With much effort, she sealed off the bond to V—her sperm donor without reply. Vader didn’t have the grace to take no for an answer. He pounded on her shields, relentless as a rancor.
“Do pain meds work on this?” Han asked into her hair.
Leia shook her head, face pinched in pain. She breathed in for a strained count of four, out for four. In for four. Out for four. It didn’t really help, but it gave her something else to focus on. She squeezed Han’s hand. He squeezed back.
Luke, I’m here, she thought, but the thought went nowhere. Her skin faded into space, no true border, but still she was alone. Alone, but still somehow hurting with her twin.
A wordless burst rattled her shield from the other bond, startling her halfway back into her own body. Halfway.
“Shut uup,” Leia moaned.
“I didn’t say anything, sweetheart.”
“Not you. Vader.”
“Oh. I was kinda hoping it was Luke at least.” Han chucked, forced. “Didn’t you learn how to block stuff with that Yoda guy? I thought you went to Dagobah to train.”
“I did. It’s fucking difficult when it’s your family apparently,” she snapped.
In the past, Han would’ve snapped right back. Leia almost wished that he would now. Instead, he just kissed her hair.
She exhaled and squeezed his hand again.
A corner of darkness ran up and down her shields, like hands seeking a crack in a door. Leia shoved some of her pain at it along with a message to FUCK OFF. The darkness froze, then shifted. It butted up against her shields, pressing hard enough to worsen her headache, as desperate to get in as a dog or the tides. Help you help you help you, it insisted. Little drips came through, carrying a worn, tattered sense of comfort that burst into nothingness like raindrops against a particle shield just beyond Leia’s own shields.
The half of her that was out in space suddenly relaxed, going limp. Leia went limp too.
Han was saying something, rubbing her arms frantically, tapping her face, but it all felt so distant…
Vader was saying something too, banging on her shields.
Leia faded into darkness beside Luke.