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When she woke up, she didn't know why.
The room was dark and quiet, only the flicker of lights that never turned off and the hum of the Falcon around her. She'd migrated in her sleep; where she'd started on her back, Leia was now on her side, Han's arm around her waist. She could feel the pressure of his chest against her back with each slow breath he took, and the flutter of each exhale against her ear. It was a peace she hadn't been used to in a long, long time, and she wasn't quite sure what disturbed it.
Initially, of course, she expected an attack. She'd spent the last who-knows-how-many years of her life sleeping in fits with her fingers around a blaster, waiting for the worst. They may have won the biggest battle, but the biggest wasn't the only, and there were too many factions and loyalists to let her guard down yet. But no alarm came blaring. The Falcon stayed steady and still, no blasts rocking it from side to side. Chewie didn't come banging down her door. There was no beeping to page her. There was no chaos.
Disquieted as she is, it took Leia a moment to realize the feeling of wrongness was coming from Luke.
Once she noticed it, it swept over her like a wave. Her breath shuddered in her chest, fear numbing her to her fingertips. Han's arm over her suddenly felt oppressive, holding her down like a shackle, and it was all she could do not to throw him off and leap from the bed. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose. Then, with trembling hands, she lifted Han's arm and slipped out from under him, not bothering to get dressed or even put on shoes as she crept from the room.
The halls of the Falcon seemed to bend around her. Leia put a hand to the wall and closed her eyes again. She felt Luke like a light flickering in the darkness, and without really thinking about it she began to walk. She didn't look until she stopped, and when she did, Luke was sitting on the floor with his back in a corner, wrapped around himself.
She approached him gingerly. He didn't look at her, but Leia knew he knew she was there, if only for the way his body tensed. She sat beside him and hesitated, then reached out and touched his shoulder.
“Luke?”
He let out a shuddering breath. He lifted his face from his knees and turned to her. His eyes were red and his face was sunken, but she was reassured to see no tears.
“Leia,” he said, mustering up a tired smile. He put his hand over hers and rubbed his thumb over her fingers. Despite her worry, the touch warmed her to her core. She ignored it firmly.
“What's wrong?” She was careful to keep her voice soft.
His eyes searched hers. “I don't guess you'd believe me if I said nothing?”
“Not a chance.”
“Didn't think so.” He sighed. “I can’t close my eyes anymore. I just… I keep seeing all of it. My aunt and uncle, everyone we lost, our - my father.”
The change in phrasing didn't escape her notice, but Leia stayed silent.
“I don't know how to do it, now that it's over.”
Yeah. She knew the feeling.
She shifted, tucking her legs to the side and leaning into his shoulder. She wrapped her arm through his and tangled their fingers together.
“We do it because we have to,” she said. “There's nothing else to do.”
Footsteps sounded in the hallway. They looked up in perfect synchronization to see Han appear in the doorway, one hand tucked under his shirt over his stomach, blinking at them sleepily. Luke's hand slackened in Leia's. She held tighter, unwilling to let go.
“I go to sleep with two people,” Han said, voice rough, “and wake up with none. A lesser man would be insulted.”
“Lucky you're not one,” Leia said dryly.
“Lucky I'm not,” he agreed. He ambled over to them and sat down on Luke's other side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and tucking his nose into his hair. His knuckles brushed Leia's cheek. “Come on, kid. What's the big idea?”
Leia felt Luke's jaw move against the top of her head. “Nightmares,” he admitted. “Can't sleep. Can't think. Can't distract myself. I don't know how to do this.”
“Sure you do,” Han said. “You've been doing it the whole time. Struggling doesn't mean you're failing. Just means you need a little extra help.”
“And that falls on you?”
“That falls on us,” Leia said firmly. She moved to set her chin on Luke's shoulder and lay her forehead against his temple. “And you help us too.”
Luke shook them off, looking at her and then Han. He nodded slowly. “Okay,” he said. “Okay.”
Han, with the sort of gentleness he saved for them — preferably situations involving less clothes, he liked to say, but he wasn't picky — cupped Luke's cheek and kissed his forehead, then his nose, then his mouth. When he pulled back Leia turned Luke's jaw to kiss him too, not letting him go until her lungs ached.
“Right,” Han said when they parted, observing them with interested, but still tired eyes. “As much as I'd love to watch this continue…” Luke interrupted him with a wide yawn. “My thoughts exactly.”
Leia stood first, brushing herself off and offering a hand to Luke. Han launched himself up and held a hand out as well, and the second Luke took them, hauled him to his feet. He swayed and stumbled and simultaneously Han and Leia lunged forward to catch him, each looping an arm around his waist. He slumped into Han, hugging Leia's shoulder and clutching her hand when she lifted it to hold him. He collapsed into their bed the second they reached it.
Han caught Leia's arm when she made to lie beside him. She looked up at him questioningly, but he just lifted her chin and kissed her as gently as he'd kissed Luke. She nuzzled into him, then stepped back and joined Luke. The bed shifted as Han laid down on Luke's other side, throwing an arm over him and tucking it against Leia's stomach. Leia put hers over his chest.
Neither of them fell asleep until Luke did. Leia didn't need the Force to know what Han was feeling. She was feeling the same thing.
Whatever Luke needed, they'd be there for him.
No matter what.