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When Han had first left, after the terrible loss of her son compounded by her brother's flight, Leia wasn't sure her heart could handle it. It was too much. Too much loss. Too much anger. Simply too much to carry. Han had checked in now and then, telling her he just needed a few more days. Days stretched to weeks stretched to years. Didn't much matter. She knew, could feel his distance. Not physical, although there was plenty of that. Han's flight from what had happened was about putting as much distance between him and Leia as he could. But physical distance hadn't much mattered to her, even in the early years of their relationship, when everything was so filled with hope. She might miss his jokes, definitely missed his embrace and the gentle touch of his hands and lips when he was gone, but even a half a galaxy away she could read his every emotion as surely as if he was lying in bed beside her. But after Ben and Luke, that had all changed. Every day she felt his emotions more faintly, the emotional distance stretching between them as surely as the physical distance that separated them. Every day, drawing further away; every day, shutting her out more.
Still, she could feel him. Always. It didn't matter where he was in the universe, from which far-flung place she'd hear reports of him, she could feel him, his heartbeat humming reassuringly along right beside her own. Leia had no idea when his heartbeat had become indistinguishable from hers, just knew that at some point it had been with her so many years, beating a cadence that fueled her even on her toughest days, that it had become hers. Two beats telling her that no matter what he was doing, no matter what stupid choices he was making--and he was, without doubt, making stupid choices, being reckless, acting out his loss as surely as she was acting out her own by returning to the only thing that had given her life any meaning at all aside from her son, aside from the man she had loved from the moment she felt his heart beat against hers--that he was still alive. Two beats reminding her that although physically she might be, she was never truly alone. Han was there, would always be there.
She wasn't prepared. Even as she had said goodbye to Han, she hadn't considered--hadn't seriously considered--that there would be a time when one of those two hearts beating within her would silence. Suddenly. Without warning. But it had. His was gone. Two hearts one second, one the next. It had happened in the space of a heartbeat. The silence of it was deafening. The pain of it rolled over her, wave after wave, almost doubling her over as everyone else in the room simply stood there, acting like the world hadn't just shaken. She'd had two heartbeats for so long that she had no idea, couldn't conceive, that it was even possible to survive with one. And yet, it must be. There was no question. Han was gone, but her heart beat on. And her son, her precious beautiful child with the impossible black curls, mischievous smile, and stubborn streak the size of his father's that had driven her so mad when he was young...was responsible.
No, not her son. The creature who had stolen him from her. The distinction was important, was real, and yet it was no comfort. Leia wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to rip the world in half the way hers had just been ripped in half. And yet, she'd been feeling his rage for so long, too, that hers melded into his so seamlessly she couldn't tell whose was whose. She gasped with the force of it. Her husband's heart was no longer beating with hers, but her son's rage was roiling inside of her. She was in a dangerous place, she knew. The playground of the Dark Side. For a few moments, she let herself feel it. For just a second more allowed herself to contemplate going after Kylo Ren, seeking out justice in the most primal of ways. But as Kylo Ren's face swam before her, so full of a rage she felt she finally understood for the very first time in her life, it intermingled with Ben's face, that of the child he had been, giggling up at her, reaching his arms out to reach for her.
Fierce love and overwhelming loss overcame her again, threatening to knock her off her feet, but this time she used it. Pushed back with it against the rage, not fighting the loss, rather allowing it to fuel her, to sustain her, to keep her moving forward. She even welcomed it, opened her heart to it and let it flow through her as Han's heartbeat had for most of her life. She didn't know, still, how she would do it, how she would survive with only one heart beating inside of her. Only that she had to. She had felt her son's rage, yes. But when she'd entered into his anger, she had found there the same immense loss, and the tiniest remnant of light. Leia was nothing if not a fighter. She would continue the fight for peace, as she had dedicated her life to doing, to be sure. But she would also continue the fight for her son. It wasn't over. As long as she still had one heartbeat, that fight would never be over.