Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Leia watched as Luke jumped, hurtling through the air as a scream echoed in the clearing. Leia saw his mop of blond hair disappear over the edge, and then the undeniable splash as he hit the water.

Even from all the way up here, they could feel the spray of water from the wave after his jump. Breaths were held for one second, two seconds, three seconds…

Then Luke’s head reappeared at the surface. He slung it to the side to get his hair out of his face and let out a cheer, their friends behind them on the bridge and on the shore echoing it.

Someone else jumped, landing only about 5 feet from where Luke was paddling back to shore. The wind was whistling through her hair up here, causing the loose strands to float away from her face in the breeze. She gripped the metal bars behind her, the small ledge of concrete they were standing on threatened to dump her over the 20 foot drop below.

It was the first summer she was able to wear a two-piece in years. She’d always been hiding injuries and scars from Luke… but that was over now. The man who’d caused them was in prison, where he’d be for years, and Leia was free to wear a bikini with her scars and jump off a bridge if she so dared.

And she supposed that she did.

Lando jumped, tucking his knees in and making a splash big enough to shoot over the length of the bridge. Han cheered from next to her, releasing his grip on the bars as he raised his arms into the air.

It only took the tiniest, babiest push with her knee against the back of his, and he went sprawling out into the air after Lando, landing a few feet away, thankfully. By the time he surfaced to give her an incredulous look, she was already doubled over laughing on the top of the bridge. She said a muffled ‘look out!’ as she plugged her nose and leapt.

She hurdled through the air a second more than she thought she would, landing feet first as she cleaved through the water, her speed dragging her down at least ten feet below the surface. She kicked, using her arms to pull the water away as she surfaced with a big breath.

Only to find a huge splash of water coming for her. She scoffed, spitting some of it out as she turned to see her foe, which of course, happened to be the one she was currently dating.

“Unfair sportsmanship, princess.” He grinned as he managed to swipe her into his arms. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you it’s not kind to push people off bridges?”

She laughed, squirming to get loose, sending her own splash to him so his arms would release. They did, as he needed them to shield his face. There was another hoop and holler and another body slammed into the water next to them, reminding the pair they were still indeed in the jump zone.

The lake was only about a 20 minute drive from campus, but in the opposite direction of the apartment. It was the summer hangout for everyone at the school, as well as everyone who lived in the small towns surrounding it. Luckily, it was big, so it almost always felt like they had the place to themselves. The bridge they were leaping off of had been known as the ‘jumping bridge’ for decades. Every couple of years they try to close it or reinforce the barrier to keep people from jumping off into the water below, but it never worked. No matter what, almost every single day of summer, people were here using it as a launching pad.

Leia had gone before in highschool, but not since Padme died. Luke she knew had been a couple of times, it was a popular spot for his group of friends he had their first year of college. He doesn’t talk to them much anymore, so he hadn’t been in a while. When Leia had suggested the outing, it surprised both him and Han, but both agreed enthusiastically.

Han was always trying to find a way for her to cut loose, to relax, or whatever other menagerie of words he used to tell her that she was too uptight. It was one of their most consistent fights. So, he really wasn’t about to say no when Leia suggested something that could be deemed reckless.

Threepio took a lot of convincing from their other friends at the top, but she eventually saw him (well, heard the screams more than she saw) tumble belly-first into the water. The smack echoed across the clearing while the boys around her laughed. He surfaced with a half-relieved, half-angry look on his face. He started ranting and raving about the safety of the structure and how they all could have died. Artoo followed soon afterwards, cutting off Threepio’s rant with a yell and a splash.

Leia and Han began paddling back to the shore, where Luke was already ripping into the cooler she’d packed. His drinking had cut back significantly since Anakin was arrested, but he still partook in social situations. In the back of her head, she wondered what would happen when the trial began, but that was a concern for another time, another day. She wasn’t about to be accused of being a wet blanket when she’d been the one with this idea anyways. She noticed him pull two beers out, but by the time she and Han had dragged themselves out of the water, he’d found the sandwich he was searching for and tore the paper off.

“We’ve been here for like, ten minutes.” Leia commented, reaching for her striped towel.

“And I’m hungry.” Her brother said, already with a mouthful of ham, cheese, and bread. He picked up one of the beers and raised an eyebrow at Leia, who opened her hands to catch it. He did the same to Han, but he waved him off while he went in search of his own towel and bag. Luke shrugged, turning to see Lando who was on his phone in the shade. Luke tossed the beer in the air and Lando caught it without even looking up, cracking it open and taking a deep swig without his eyes ever leaving his phone screen.

Leia sat down on a large, warm rock, cracking open the beer and watching the foam dribble out over her fingers. It was Luke’s favorite, which is about all she drank anyways. It tasted like today, sunny and light and it always reminded her of summer. Han reappeared between Luke and Leia, holding something small and rolled in his fingers.

He raised his brows at the twins in the same way Luke had with the beer, but now it was Luke’s turn to wave him off. With a shrug, Han deposited himself next to Leia on her rock, sticking the joint in his mouth while he cupped a hand around it, attempting to block the wind to light it. After several tries and a few curses from the man next to her, she held her palms out and made a gimme motion with her fingers. He deposited it without question, though with a grumble, and handed the lighter over once the joint was securely in her mouth.

She lit it in one attempt, taking a full drag before passing it back to Han with a sly grin.

“Show off.” He murmured, but took the joint and a hit anyways.

And so they passed it back and forth while they sat on the rock, watching their friends continue to launch themselves from the bridge into the water. Luke started calling out scores, giving Artoo a eight for his next jump and Threepio only a four, which then prompted some unholy jumping competition between the two. They both managed three more by the time the joint burned down to a roach, which Han stubbed out on the rock and deposited in an old cigarette case.

The pair of jumpers trudged back to shore, Artoo laughing and Threepio looking thoroughly defeated (Luke never gave him a score above five). They waded out of the water and she saw Threepio immediately go for his bag, rifling around with vigor. Suddenly, a stream of ‘no, no, no’ was coming from him as he dumped the bag upside down, pilfering through the contents.

“What did you lose?” Han asked with boredom. He was never Threepio’s biggest fan. He said he was just as uptight as Leia but not nearly as fun, which prompted a full conversation of how exactly she was uptight. Han and Luke came up with far too many examples for her liking.

“My phone.” Threepio said in a worried tone, which, to be fair, was his usual tone. “I need it, there’s stuff on there I can’t lose. Did I —” He patted his pockets and then the color drained from his face. He looked out over the lake.

Han let out a low whistle. “Tough luck.” He murmured, reaching over and taking a sip out of Leia’s beer.

That was when Threepio started to panic. He went down the list of all the irreplaceable things that were on his phone, and how he bought the waterproof one in case something like this happened, but waterproof was no good if it was stuck at the bottom of a lake.

Leia felt bad for him, which is probably why she offered.

“What?” Both Luke and Han said at the same time as she stood up, already slinging her hair behind her and weaving it into a braid.

“I swam in high school.” She countered, though failed to mention she stopped after the first year, when Padme got sick. Luke’s lips thinned, of course he knew. But, both of them respected her too much to insist she didn’t. Besides, they’d all been jumping off the bridge. Jumping off and swimming to the bottom wasn’t that much more of a risk, especially with it only being about 25 feet deep. Her jump would propel her halfway there, she’d just have to get to the bottom, see if she saw it, and swim back up.

Threepio thanked her profusely as she started climbing the trail to get back to the bridge. It was a tricky pit of scaling to get from the bank to the ledge, but she’d done it enough time to know where to put her feet and hands to keep herself upright. Eventually she made it back to the top of the bridge, spying where her group below was watching.

“Give us a ten!” Han shouted between cupped hands.

“Do a flip!” Her brother’s voice rang.

She merely gave them a rude gesture before she placed her hands together over her head. Taking a deep breath, she leaped off the bridge, dipping her head and hands down first so she’d dive into the water.

She didn’t hear whatever score they gave her, the water rushed in and filled her ears as she sliced through, easily dropping the ten feet she had earlier. With a couple of kicks and paddles, she could see the murky floor of the lake below her. It was silty, cold, and covered in heaps of decaying tree branches and other lake muck. It was a bit eerie all the way down here, in the silence at the bottom of the lake.

It was a lake, so visibility was negligible. Once she felt her fingertips graze the bottom, she started feeling blindly around, swirling up silt. She used a free hand to grab onto a tree branch to keep her from floating back up. All she felt were rocks and twigs and other slimy things. The phone could have floated anywhere, it would be a crapshoot if she just happened to — wait.

There. She spied something rectangular with curved edges, far too symmetrical not to be man-made. She kicked her legs, propelling her closer and feeling the branches scratch her face and down her body.

Her lungs were starting to burn at this point. She’d probably been down here for about 30 seconds, which was about half as long as she could hold her breath. She kicked again, deeper into the cage of branches and saw the edge of Threepio’s phone sticking out of the silt. She managed to stretch her fingers out and just barely grab it.

She wrapped one of her hands tightly around it, her feet finding the bottom and pushing to kick off.

Except, something pulled her back down.

Her lungs were screaming now, and she probably would have too if she wouldn’t have lost that precious breath. One of the branches she’d swum through was wrapped tightly around her bikini top. She tried to push off again only to be stopped, the branch wedged underneath a fallen tree, not going anywhere.

Panic was making her vision start to blacken in the corners. She couldn’t think straight when her brain was begging her to breathe, to get some oxygen in her system so she could figure out how to get out of here.

Must have been close to a minute now, she was close to her diaphragm involuntarily contracting. She flailed, some animal instinct in her brain prompting it. Nothing worked, she was stuck.

Above her she could see something that looked like someone swimming over, but they were too far, even if they could get down to her, it would be too late.

She tried again, and then the answer hit her like a freight train. She blamed the lack of oxygen for not coming up with it sooner.

She reached behind her with her free hand and pulled on the strings of her top. It immediately fell from her chest and her body started to float upwards, freed of its constraints. She managed to find the bottom again and push up off the floor, using the last bit of the air left in her lungs to kick, kick, kick until the surface was only ten feet away. Five feet away. A foot away.

She broke the surface with a huge intake of breath, catching a bunch of lakewater too. Her brain was reeling with the lack, and then the sudden intake of it. She coughed, barely managing to tread water and keep her head above the surface. She heaved in as much air as she could between her body expelling the water, not even realizing someone was nearby until hands went under her arms to support her.

She opened her eyes, seeing Han’s face lined with concern.

“Got it.” She managed between coughs. With Han treading water for the both of them, she was able to reach the hand clutching the phone into the air, and she heard some cheers from shore. She saw someone else paddling towards them, and Luke’s mop of hair came into view.

“You were down there for almost two minutes.” Her brother said, finally getting to the pair and flipping his hair out of his eyes. Leia would have blanched if she had the energy. That was the longest she’d ever held her breath.

“You should have come up.” Han said briskly, while Leia coughed the last bit of water from her lungs.

“I got stuck, a tree branch.” She coughed again. “It was wrapped around my top, I had to shed it to make it back up.” She said, wrapping her arms around her exposed chest underneath the surface.

“Luke, go get my —” Han started, eyes not leaving Leia.

“On it.” He interrupted, her brother’s face having gone scarlett the moment she revealed her lack of attire. He turned and immediately started swimming back to the shore.

Once she regained her breath and no longer felt like her lungs were burning, she bat Han’s hands off of her.

“I’m fine.” She said, before he started with his nonsense. He let go, but kept close to her as they slowly started to swim to shore. About ten feet away Han held up a hand for her to wait, and he went and grabbed his t-shirt from Luke, then waded back out to her in the water.

She took it gratefully, shoving it over her head as fast as she could. She was ready to be out of the water, on dry land. Han tried to help guide her and she batted off his helping hands again, cutting through the water with a little less ease than usual to pull herself onto the shore.

She wasn’t proud of how she collapsed on the bank, still with an iron grip on the wet brick that was Threepio’s phone. She managed to flip to her back, relishing in a state of stillness while her chest still heaved. Threepio made some noise of joy as when he saw his phone in her hands. She held the drowned device out.

Threepio swiped it, immediately going to try to turn the stupid thing on.

It took only a minute or two to realize that the waterproofing must have really just been water resistant, and his phone was completely dead.

“You had her go out there and do all of that for a phone that didn’t even make it?” She heard Han’s voice call, and he didn’t not sound one bit happy.

“Go easy on him.” She said, pulling herself to an upright position. The wind hit her wet body and sopping t-shirt then, causing goosebumps to pop up all along her skin. “He didn’t know it would be broken.”

“Never seen an idiot who values a phone more than someone’s life.” Han continued to seeth. She stuck out a hand to stop his approach to Threepio, who was looking at the man with unbridled fear on his face.

“Last time I checked I was alive and breathing, alright?” She said, though not with the tone of a question. Luke used to call it her ‘teacher voice’, but Leia preferred to think of it as her ‘take-no-shit’ voice.

It was usually Han who diffused the tension in a room, deflating it like a balloon with some well timed comment or laugh. But this time it was Luke, seeing that Han was not in a playful mood. Luke approached Threepio and clapped him on the back, startling the other man.

“Sorry about your phone, dude.” Threepio nodded, glad to have the attention off whether or not Han was going to beat him into a pulp. Said man walked around Leia to her previous spot on the sunny rock. The wind caused her to shiver, just as her towel was dumped on her shoulders. She wrapped it around herself, moving to stand.

“I think I’m going to go home and take a hot shower.” Or twelve. She still tasted the lake water in the back of her throat, and thinking about all the sludge at the bottom made her stomach churn.

“I’ll take her.” Han said.

“I’ll go.” Luke said at the same time. Han furrowed his brows at him.

“These are your friends, Luke.” Leia said, before either one of them could continue. Though, her voice came out strained as she was now making an effort to keep her teeth from chattering. “Han will take me, it’s fine.”

Luke gave her one of his classic are you sure? looks before she nodded, and he seemed to accept it.

Leia and Han shoved into their dry clothes and marched off to the truck that was parked next to the bridge. Han held up the broken end of a chain link fence they’d had to cross for her. She slid through no problem.

“You really shouldn’t be so hard on Threepio.” She said, losing the battle of keeping her teeth from chattering together. Han crawled through and approached her next to the truck, opening the passenger door for her. Once he was sure all appendages were inside, he closed it and walked around.

“Yeah, well.” He continued once his door was open, climbing into the driver’s seat. “If he wasn’t so annoying I wouldn’t be so hard on him.”

“I seem to recall you saying that I was also annoying, once.” She teased, hoping to see some light back in his features.

The corners of his mouth quirked up while the engine roared to life. “You are annoying. A different kind of annoying.” Still, as annoying as she may be, he turned the heat on max and flipped the vents towards her, rolling down his own window so he wouldn’t cook.

“Well that’s great to hear.” She said, feigning her own annoyance. Han grinned, having shed his anger at Threepio now that they were turning away from the lake. He opened his mouth to say something else, but was interrupted when his cellphone rang.

Frowning at the number on the screen, Han answered and brought the phone to his ear.

“Yeah?”

Leia couldn’t hear who was on the other end, or what they were saying, but she knew the way his brows creased and how his hands tightened on the wheel. The person on the other end talked for a while until Han said “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.” He hung up, tossing the phone onto the dash.

“We have a stop on the way.” He said in a tight voice.

She knew what that meant. And it wasn’t good.

Jabba.

Chapter Text

Jabba was an untouchable subject around Han. No matter how Leia tried to bring it up, it was swiftly shut down and Han would grow irritable. She was good enough at taking hints, he’d tell her when she was ready.

Now, as Han drove white-knuckled down backroads, Leia wished she had more context.

Rarely did he ever bring her on any of his drug runs. If anything, she stayed in the car while he made a drop, that had always been the extent of it. He goes, she stays, and they don’t talk about it. That was how they handled this specific aspect of his life, or, well, how Han preferred to handle it.

After the run in with Greedo nearly two years ago, they’d gone months without hearing from Jabba. That was until Han got cornered at work about a year before. He came back home with a bloody nose and black eye, the only explanation he was willing to give was a nasally Jabba.

Technically, Jabba still has a hit out on Han. However the crime lord seems to have reigned in his lapdogs for the time being, since Han was working for him again without much of a fight. Leia hated it, but she hated the idea of him being hunted down more. Still, there was always the chance that someone would finish the job for Jabba, and something told her the crime lord wouldn’t have minded losing his best smuggler, who also likely was the biggest pain in his ass.

Her mouth was dry, and now it wasn’t just from the lake water. The tension surrounding him was thick enough to be cut with a dull blade. Han hadn’t even shoved one of his ancient CDs in the player, a clear sign his mind was elsewhere.

They rounded a corner, and she saw a muscle in his jaw flick. Tenderly, she reached one of the hands she was warming in front of the vents to his shoulder, still bare as his t-shirt was now on herself.

He jumped when she made contact, also not like him. She let her hand settle back on his shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. Han released one of his hands from the steering wheel to go up and cover hers, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at her.

“Shouldn’t take long, I’ll be in and out.” His voice was still tight, she could hear the building stress.

“What do they want?” She tried not to be the one to pry, but she was always going to want the information, the context.

“They want me to pickup.” Was all he said, and all she thought she’d get out of him in the moment.

They continued the rest of the drive in silence. Han eventually let go of her hand and put it back on the wheel, and Leia returned hers to warming in front of the vent. He eventually pulled off the main road, starting down a long gravel driveway shaded by tree cover. A squat house occupied the end of it, the roof slightly caved in under the weight of pine needles on top of it.

Han stopped the car at the end of the driveway, turning the engine off and pushing himself out. He turned before he shut the door, fixing Leia with a stare.

“Stay —”

“Here, I know.” She finished for him, not bothering to take the annoyance out of her voice. He knew she loathed being told to stay put, and resented the fact he didn’t trust her enough to do anything other than stay in the car. But, then again, maybe it was a good thing. He had his reasons.

Before he could close the door, the screen door of the house swung open with a loud crack as it hit the siding. Two men strode out, and even from here she could see the bulge of guns in their waistbands. She swallowed down a bolt of fear. One of them held a large package wrapped in black plastic.

Han’s jaw tightened as he shut the car door, fixing Leia with one more stay here stare.

His window was still rolled down, so she could hear the crunch of his footsteps as he and the two men met about 10 feet away from the truck.

“Where’s your shirt?” One of them said with a sneer. Han crossed his arms.

“I was at the lake before you assholes called. Unlike you guys, my life doesn’t revolve around answering Jabba like a dog on a leash.” One of the man’s faces screwed up in anger. “Where’s the drop?” His tone was serious, one he rarely used around her or Luke.

The man with the package threw it at Han’s chest like a basketball, but he caught it with ease, not even bothering to inspect it.

“That goes to Fett.” The other man said. Leia noticed how his hand went to casually rest on his gun, something that Han saw too, evident by the way his jaw tightened.

“Boba Fett?” He asked incredulously, a sneer replacing his surprise. “I don’t do jobs with Boba Fett. Do you even know how many times he’s tried to kill me?”

“I don’t give a fuck. And today, you do work with him. He’s expecting the drop at two.” She checked the clock on her phone, it was already past 1 o’clock. “Any later and you’ll have to answer to Jabba himself.” She heard the man that held the package say, but his attention turned away from Han and to his truck.

No, not to his truck, to Leia. She could feel his gaze rooting her to the spot. A wicked half-smile spread across his features as he started to walk towards her.

“Hey —” Han started, but the man didn’t stop.

“Who’s this?” he asked with a disgusting tilt to his words. Her skin crawled as he got closer.

“She’s none of your business.” Han said, trying to step between him and the truck. He was roughly pushed out of the way as the man turned to spy Leia through the open window, leaning his elbows inside the truck.

“She’s the one who fucked up Greedo’s ear.” The other man said. Instead of coming to the window, he merely approached the front of the truck, drumming his fingers over the hood.

Han told her Greedo had lost hearing in his right ear due to her display with his gun. It was hard not to feel a little proud of that, but she also knew it didn’t make Han’s job easier.

“I thought you knew not to bring pretty girls to a gunfight.” The man in the window said, fixing her with a look that made her want to vomit.

“If you recall, she’s pretty skilled with a gun, Bossk.” Han said from behind him, though his eyes were on Leia. He moved his gaze to the right, and Leia realized he was pointing her to the glovebox. Where he kept said gun.

She didn’t move, not wanting to give anyone a reason to start anything, but knowing it was there made her feel better. Slightly.

“Nice ride.” The other man noted, causing both Han and Bossk to look away from her. He’d popped the hood somehow without them noticing, taking a long look at the car’s guts.

“No, it’s not.” Han said through gritted teeth, abandoning Bossk and slamming the hood back down, nearly crushing the other man’s fingers. “It’s a ‘98 F-150 that barely runs. Are we done here?”

Bossk stepped away from the truck, begrudgingly, and returned to the other man’s side at the front of the truck.

“Just do your job, Solo.” Bossk seethed, once again turning his gaze to Leia. “And leave your plaything at home next time.”

Her grip tightened on the seat. The glovebox was just begging to be opened now, and she’d show him just how playful she could be.

“Crumb, you better shut your guy up before I rearrange what’s left of his teeth.” Han said in a tone that made Leia realize he wasn’t bluffing. Bossk looked enraged and like he was going to say something else, but Crumb put a hand to his chest to stop him.

“Do your job.” Was all he said before he forcibly turned Bossk back towards the house, and both men walked inside. As soon as the screen door swung closed again, Han angrily got back in the truck. He threw the plastic wrapped package in the back, obviously not caring much for whatever was inside of it.

He was hardly inside before he stuck the keys back in the ignition and tore off down the driveway, the truck bumping across the gravel.

“Han —” Leia started, but he didn’t even look at her. “Han.” She said again, with more steel in his voice.

“I’m taking you home.” Was all he said, still not looking in her direction.

“You won’t make your drop.” She noted, his mouth tightened. He turned onto the main road, flying down it as he went to get on the highway.

“I can hardly tolerate those guys knowing you exist, I don’t want you on Boba Fett’s radar.”

She didn’t push that specific issue, but the idea of him going to someone who wanted to kill him rubs her the wrong way. “What did you mean when you said he tried to kill you?”

Han scoffed, holding up three fingers. “Three times he’s tried. Three times he’s failed too.” He said with no small amount of satisfaction, though she could sense the undercurrent of fear there. “He wanted the price on my head. I can only imagine how sorely disappointed he was when it was dropped.”

“Will he try and kill you anyways? Even without the bounty?” She asked. Han shrugged, which was not the answer she was looking for.

“He’s a bounty hunter who does Jabba’s dirty work, cleans up his messes. I don’t know what he’ll do, which is why I’m taking you home first.” He ran a hand through his still-damp hair, sending water droplets flying. Leia was finally warm enough to turn the heat off, reaching over and flipping the fan off.

“Am I just supposed to be comfortable with you doing that?” Her anger at his lack of self-preservation was starting to rise.

“Comfortable or not, it’s reality.” His voice was grave, the way he got when his mind wasn’t going to be easily changed. She hated when he got like this, and he knew that too.

The clock ticked closer to 1:30. She could practically see the thoughts racing through his mind. They stopped at a red light before getting onto the entry ramp. Leia once again moved to place one of her hands on his, pulling it off the steering wheel and into her grip. Han didn’t look at her.

“Han.” His gaze finally flicked over, full of latent fear he hardly ever let show. “Do you trust me?”

He nodded without hesitation.

“Then go do your job.” She repeated the words of Bossk and Crumb, as much as she didn’t want to.

Han groaned, rubbing his eyes with his free hand before he cursed, glancing at the clock. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

When the light turned green, he made a U-turn, moving to get on the highway going the other direction. It was a quick drive, but they still barely made it by the 2pm cutoff. Han would have been an hour late if he tried to drop Leia at the apartment first.

But, the biggest surprise of the day came when Boba Fett walked out of the apartment complex they’d pulled into. Her heart fell when she saw the familiar features, the way he walked, the way he held himself. It was undeniable. He was undeniable. Han had already gotten out of the car with his usual stay here speech, but Leia couldn’t help but open the door when she saw who the man was that everyone referred to as Boba Fett.

“Robert?” She asked through the open car door. Both Han and the man known as Boba Fett gave her confused looks.

“Leia?” Boba Fett asked, realization dawning on his face, too.

Shit.

Chapter Text

Leia hadn’t seen Robert Fett in more than five years, it was before Padme had died. He’d disappeared into the ether, she half-thought he was dead. Seeing him here was like seeing a specter.

But there he was, flesh-and-bones in front of her, with just as shocked an expression on his face. Robert, or, Boba Fett, as she supposed he was now called, was never the expressive type, or the talkative type for that matter. She was pretty sure in the year they’d been close, he spoke a total of a dozen words to her.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Han’s voice cut through her thoughts. She’d stepped out of the truck at this point, the door held in her loose grip. “You know him?” He looked at her, but pointed to the man behind him. Boba Fett crossed his arms, revealing the small hand gun in a holster on his hip. The same small handgun she’d always seen him with, even five years in the past.

“Yes,” was all she managed, still staring at the other man with wide eyes. He’d mostly wiped the surprised look off of his face, but was now staring between Han and Leia with his brow furrowed. “He worked for my mom, kinda. A long time ago.”

“If she’s who you made the deal for, I get it now.” The string of words that came form Boba Fett’s mouth was the longest sentence she’d ever heard him say, both Han and Leia looked at him incredulously.

“What deal?” She questioned, her accusatory gaze now turning to Han. She saw him swallow, but his gaze was still firmly on Boba Fett.

“One word to Jabba, Fett, and you and I are gonna have a problem.” It was almost hard to take him seriously, considering he was still shirtless in his board shorts. But, the threatening tone of his voice left no room for humor.

Boba Fett didn’t say anything, fixing Han with one of his trademark, emotionless stares. Han made a noise that was half a groan and half a growl, moving to grab the package from the back of the truck. In the few seconds he was out of sight, Leia and Boba Fett just stared at one another.

Five years later.

He’d changed, she was sure she had too. When they’d met, he had barely turned 18 and she hadn’t even been 16 yet. He was her first real crush, though nothing came of it. He disappeared before anything could. Her jaw tightened, and she watched one of his hands go to rest on the grip of the gun on his belt. Her face screwed up in annoyance.

“Get your hands off that gun, Robert.” She sneered, hearing Han slam the truck door. “It’s the first thing you ever taught me.”

A slight smile etched its way on Boba Fett’s face as he let his hand drop, just in time to catch the package Han hurtled towards him like a basketball. He came back beside her, standing closer than he usually bothered to, with a heavy hand on her shoulder. Boba Fett caught the package with ease, inclining his head at the pair before turning around.

“Hey!” Han yelled, releasing his grip on Leia and following the other man. “Where’s my cut?”

“Jabba’s cut, you mean.” Boba Fett corrected over his shoulder, not even bothering to stop walking. Han grumbled some incoherent curses under his breath. The look he gave Leia was hard to read, but she felt her cheeks flame anyways. He had a habit of seeing down past her walls, something she still hadn’t gotten used to. The pair got back into the truck in silence, but the way Han was white-knuckling the steering wheel told her it wouldn’t be that way for long.

She was right. As soon as they pulled out of the apartment complex, Han asked, “So, you and Boba Fett?”

“I knew him as Robert.”

“Robert - whatever.” His tone was tight, only sneaking glances at her every now and then.

“He - it’s complicated. It’s a long story.” She started, feeling a weird awkwardness catch in her throat. Didn’t Han say Boba Fett had tried to kill him multiple times?

“Give me the highlight reel.”

She sighed, trying to figure out how to phrase it. “I told you my mother made Luke and I learn how to shoot. There was one scary instance of an almost-break-in when we were 15, and she enrolled us in classes the next day. Just in case.” Padme was staunchly against violence, in every capacity. However, Leia knew her fierce love and protection of her children came before that. It had compromised something within her, putting a gun in Luke and Leia’s hands, but she did it anyway. Leia couldn’t help but be grateful for it now.

“He was working at the range Luke and I would go to. He wasn’t our official instructor or anything, but he often gave us,” She failed to mention that Robert’s attention was usually solely focused on her, “Pointers. Tips. I don’t know. It turned into a weird friendship after that.”

Friendship was putting it lightly. The only time Leia had ever snuck out of her parents house was the one time she’d gone out to go see Robert. She was 15 and naive, and he let her know that as soon as she found him. It was a humbling moment, but probably one she needed as a kid.

Han’s jaw tightened, his fingers drumming nervously against the wheel.

“What deal was he talking about?” She questioned. If she had to share, so did he. Especially if that deal concerned her.

Han sighed, as if he was hoping she’d forgotten about that nugget Boba Fett let drop.

“Jabba and I struck a deal.” He said the crimelord’s name like a curse. “It’s why I’m workin’ for him again. Pay off my debt, no price on my head. No head-hunting by Boba Fett or any of his other dogs.”

“What does that have to do with me?” He glanced at her then, and she saw something soften just slightly in his eyes. The adrenaline from their run-in was coming down.

“I swore I’d never work for that slimy son of a bitch again.” She didn’t know if he was saying that more to himself or to her. “But, when you and Luke…” He stopped, turning onto the highway. “When you and Luke came into the picture, it wasn’t worth it anymore.”

“What wasn’t worth it?” Her patience was wearing thin.

“The hiding. The running. I mean fuck Leia, Greedo tried to run us off the road.” He sighed, running a hand through his now mostly-dry hair. “I couldn’t bring that shit home. And I —” He paused again, as if picking his next words carefully. “I didn’t want to leave.”

“So, you went back to work for Jabba, because of me and Luke?” She could hardly believe what she said, what she was hearing.

“Because I was being selfish.” His tone was gruff. “It wasn’t fair for you both to have to be in danger because of me, and I was too selfish to leave.”

“Han.” As much as her latent anger was rising, Han talking about leaving sent bolts of fear through her chest. “It’s not selfish to want to stay.”

“It is if it means you two get wrapped up in this.” He still wasn’t looking at her, flicking on the blinker so he could merge onto the exit ramp. “And now Boba Fett knows you, has known you.” He corrected, finally giving her a look that hinted she wasn’t being completely truthful. “He’s bad news.”

“And you’re not?” She said, a slight uptilt to her voice, desperately trying to bring some light back into the conversation. She was still half-paralyzed by the idea of him leaving. Instead of responding with a smirk, like he usually might, Han’s face turned dark. He pulled down the road that led to their apartments.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Han, that’s not what I meant —”

“But it’s true, isn’t it?” They had stopped at the turn, his gaze pinning her to the spot. “If anything happens to you, either of you —”

It was her turn to interrupt. “You have an awful lack of faith in our ability to take care of ourselves.” She snapped, her patience having finally worn through. If he wanted to fight about this now, then fine, they would. His teeth clenched, moving his attention to pull into a parking spot by their staircase.

“Yeah well, you weren’t doing a great job of that when I met you.” He said under his breath.

She felt her heart clench, all the fear and pain from last year rushing to the surface at once. He had a point, a bad point, a point that made her see red. But it was a point.

“You are an asshole.” She seethed, not even waiting for him to put the truck in park before she ripped open the door, hopping on the concrete and slamming it while he tried to backpedal.

“Leia!” She heard her name being called as she bounded up the steps, taking them two at a time. Vaguely she heard the truck door slam, and his thunderous footsteps as he followed her. She stuck the key in her and Luke’s door and turned it, slamming it behind her (hopefully in his face).

She only managed to storm into the living room before it opened again, Han pushing it shut gently as he entered the apartment.

“I’m sorry, look. Leia.” She still had her back turned, but she heard him approach. He gave her a few feet of room. “That was a stupid thing to say, I’m sorry.” He paused, waiting to see if she’d turn around. She didn’t. “Leia —” He tried to put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off, rotating to face him.

“You don’t get to decide things for Luke and I. We can ascertain the danger and make our own decisions, okay?” Her arms were crossed over her chest, the AC in the apartment made Han’s wet t-shirt cling to her with cold.

“You’re right, you’re right.” He went to hold her shoulders again, and this time she let him. She heard his soft sigh of relief. The anger had dissipated off his features, leaving only a tired, concerned pinch. “I’m sorry.”

“And stop talking about leaving.” She was proud her voice didn’t crack, but it was still tight and strained. Han pressed his lips together, moving to pull her into his chest. She let him, once again, pressing her forehead against the bare skin there. “Please, stop talking about leaving.”

“Okay.” He murmured into her hair, drawing his arms around her. “No leaving.”

“Promise?” She felt like a child, like asking him to pinky-swear. She heard him sigh again above her, hand tangling in her dilapidated braid.

“Promise.”

She knew when he was lying, and she could tell that wasn’t entirely truthful. Still, her head was starting to hurt and she was cold. She didn’t want to continue this fight, she’d rather it be over altogether.

They stood like that for a few minutes until Leia started shivering and proclaimed they both needed a shower to get the lake muck off. To her surprise, Han said he’d take his upstairs. He left her with a kiss on the temple, shutting the front door gently behind him when he left.

So, she took her shower alone, trying not to think too hard into his decision. Space was good, maybe they needed it. With him living just upstairs, sometimes she wondered if they spent too much time together. Besides, she’d see him tonight. It had only been a handful of nights that they hadn’t stayed together since Luke had her go retrieve his (totally unneeded) medication.

Except, she never heard anything.

Luke came home a few hours later with a pizza in his hand. He regaled her with tales from the rest of their day at the lake. She had half a mind to indulge him in her afternoon adventure, but her tongue stalled in her mouth. It was Han’s story to tell, not hers. Besides, she didn’t even know if Luke would remember Robert Fett — Boba Fett.

So, they ate and Luke showered. Leia ended up finishing some classwork as the evening wore on, but she kept checking her phone to see if there was a text from Han.

But, one never came.

She didn’t want to just show up, if he needed space, she wanted to respect that. Today was a lot for him, most likely. He probably just wanted some time to cool off by himself.

So, she got ready for bed and sank into her silk sheets, except they didn’t feel as luxurious as normal. Something about sharing them with a six foot heathen made them feel warm and soft. Now she just felt cold. And alone.

So, Leia slept by herself, for the first time in weeks.

And she hated it.

Chapter Text

Leia’s idyllic morning was absolutely ruined.

After a night of fitful sleep and worrying about her relationship with Han, she wanted a calm, restful, and peaceful morning to ease into her day. She had just gotten out of the shower and wrapped herself in a fluffy robe, moving into her room to pick out clothes for the day. She only had a few meetings on campus before her evening shift, a relatively easy day in the grand scheme of things. As she padded across the rug, her phone rang from its spot on her bed.

Unknown number. She nearly didn’t pick up, and what a cluster that would have been.

“Hello?”

This is a collect call from…

Her heart jumped into her throat. A million different possibilities swam through her head all at once, including the thought that Anakin had somehow gotten her number and deigned to call, in whatever state prison they’d shoved him in. Her hand was shaking by the time the machine stopped and the grainy recording of a voice identifying themselves came on.

“Han.” The voice said roughly. She felt her fear dissipate as quickly as it appeared, but white hot anger was quick to replace it.

That dumbass.

“I accept the charges.” She muttered, and heard the line trill as it connected to whatever phone Han was using.

“Leia?” The lack of one of his irritating nicknames hit her like a sucker punch in the gut. She thought she was going to crush her phone the way she held it, her trembling now coming from barely contained rage.

“What the fuck are you doing in jail, Han?” She seethed. She could practically hear Han wince away from the phone on the other end.

“Long story, I’d love to regale you with all the details.” She heard some shuffling, like he was turning the phone to his other ear. “I got cash at my place. It’s in my room, there’s a loose floorboard underneath the rug.” He continued to explain how much his bail was, and where she could find the money. She could hardly remember the details, she was seeing too much red. “Chewie’s there but he’ll be fine until I get home.”

“Great, I’m glad you’ve considered your dog in all of this.” Venom dripped from every word. She was rubbing the spot between her brows, now trying to figure out how she’d rearrange her day to bail his sorry ass out.

“I’m sorry. Listen, I really am.” She heard him sigh, and she felt her first pang of worry. Really, it was the root of where this anger was coming from. There were a million reasons Han could be in jail right now, and none of them were good. However, some could be much, much worse than others. “I love you.” He said after a moment of silence. There was a loud thud on the line, like someone hit the phone. A muffled voice said something she couldn’t decipher. “Alright, alright.” He groaned. It seemed like their brief time on the phone was already coming to a close. She groaned.

“I know.” She replied, finally, though it lacked the tenderness the pair usually used with their exchange. She ended the call before she could get anymore angry, and prepared to give up her peaceful morning to go fix his problems.

Leia had never bailed anyone out before. The few times Anakin did end up locked up, she left him there. He was only ever gone for a few days before he was released, coming back to the house even angrier than before. It was never a good thing when he was there, but it at least gave her a few days of respite from his abuse.

Abuse. It was still hard to use that word, to identify with it. The therapist Luke had pressed her to see had talked a lot about that word. That was probably why she hadn’t gone back.

Once she’d finished handing Han’s wad of cash over inside, she went to stew in the car. About a half hour later, Han came lumbering out of the building, head ducked with his hands pushed deep into his pockets. He had heavy bags under his eyes and was still wearing the same clothes he was in when he left her apartment yesterday.

She frowned as he got in the passenger side. The silence and tension was thick, neither one of them wanted to be the one to break it. She let it marinade for a moment or two, so he could feel just how angry she was, before she stuck the keys in the ignition and was about to whir the car to life.

His hand closed over the one she had wrapped around her keys, stopping the act. She met his gaze and saw… something there. Something more than he usually let rise to the surface.

God, he looked awful. He looked like he hadn’t slept all night. There was even a 5 o’clock shadow on his jaw and chin, something he would be mortified by if she pointed it out.

“Thank you.” His voice was gravely, like it typically only was in the mornings, but the clock now read well past noon.

“What the fuck happened?” She didn’t try to keep the steel out of her tone. This time she did see him wince, releasing his hand and letting her start the car.

“It was bad luck. Not my fault.” He leaned back in the seat, running a hand through his hair. “Tag light was busted and I didn’t even know it. Got pulled over and of course the guy had a fuckin’ K9 unit.” He grumbled, and Leia started putting the pieces together. “The only reason I’m not still in there was because it was a small run, less than an ounce. I’ve become a fuckin’ errand boy for that asshole, and look where it landed me.”

Jabba. Of course. It always led back to him.

“Okay, fine. So what, it’s a misdemeanor charge?” She turned away from the jailhouse, silently wishing she’d never have to come back.

Han nodded, but there was still a line of tension running through his jaw.

“That’s not the problem.”

“We’ll get your truck, relax.”

“It’s not the truck.” He said, to her surprise. He babied all his vehicles, if there was something that was more important than the truck... It wasn’t good, it wasn’t good at all. She waited for him to continue. “Bossk, that idiot wrote the guy’s name on the bag. I refused to say shit, but a name is pretty fuckin’ clear.” He rubbed his eyes now, Leia could feel the stress building in his body.

“Okay, so the cops have one name of someone you were giving less than an ounce to, so what? It’s not like you carry a scale, they can’t get you on distribution.”

“It’s not the cops I’m worried about.”

“It’s one name.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He emphasized, leaning forward in the seat so he could rest his elbows on his legs. Leia turned onto the highway. “I got caught, lost the drop, and outed one of our contacts in doing so.” She saw him gnaw on his bottom lip, one of his stress indicators. “Jabba is going to have my ass.”

“Yeah, well, he can get in line.” She responded gruffly. “I get to chew you out first.”

He sighed, but then seemed to accept his fate, drawing his face away from his hands and leaning back against the seat. “Okay fine, go.”

“You idiot.” She nearly laughed at the absurdity of it all, though, she really should have expected something like this to happen at some point. She naively had never played out what she’d actually do. “I mean, seriously, you treat that truck better than you treat me, and you didn’t know your tag light was out?” He looked like he was going to try to interject, but she held a hand up to stop him. “Not only that, but you have been doing this for how long and don’t have some sort of solution to the smell?”

“You can’t trick a K9 —”

“I’m not done!” She flipped the blinker on angrily, whipping the car into the exit lane. “Not only that, but you couldn’t find a lie for what the name meant? Cops are clueless. You could have said it was the name of the strain or the farm where it was purchased. Hell, you could have said whatever name was on it was your nickname, or something!” She continued, hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel. “I’m begging you to use your head, Han.”

“Yeah, well.” He let go of a breath. “You’ve always been the brains, sweetheart.”

“Don’t sweetheart me right now, I’m angry.”

“Really? I thought you were thrilled —”

“Han.”

“Fine, fine.” He looked out the window, pointedly ignoring her stare. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I should have been smarter.”

With one sentence, one measly, stupid, hardly-an-apology sentence, she felt her anger start to deflate. Her temper rose quickly, but unlike her father, it also managed to recede quickly. She let out a long breath, bringing the car to a stop at a light. She hung her head, just for a moment, letting her curtain of hair block her expression as she tried to gather her thoughts. She picked up her head in time to see the light turn, and continued their path home.

“I don’t like seeing you there.” She said, in a much softer tone. Their town wasn't big. That was the same jail Anakin had been held in before his trial, before being transferred to some prison somewhere else in the state.

She tried to not let that turn her stomach, but she could already feel the bile rising. She steered the car into the closest parking spot, ripping the gear stick into park.

“It’s not going to happen again, okay?” He said as she turned the car off, but made no movement to get out. He reached, his hand finding one of hers, and she didn’t pull away.

“Is that why you didn’t come down last night?” She hated that she felt like she had to ask. It reeked of insecurity, but after what she just did, he could give her some reassurance. She needed it more than she wanted to admit. Frankly, it had scared her. And then he scared her this morning. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

“I wanted to, I was about to when I got the call.” He admitted. She blanched.

“You were in there all night?”

“Doesn’t matter.” He shook his head. “I’m out now, and I’m sure Chewie has to piss like a racehorse.” He glanced up where his apartment was and Leia sighed.

“I took him for a walk. He’s probably bored, but he’s fine.” As much as Han’s dog had initially annoyed her when he brought him home, she’d come to grow fond of the large, hairy beast. She felt him pull her hand closer to him, and he pressed his lips against her fingers, holding it to his mouth for a moment. It was as clear a thank you as she typically got from him, especially since she’d already received a rare verbal one.

“Go, shower.” She commanded. He dropped her hand from his face, but still held it in his. “You stink like you’ve been stuck in jail all night.” All the fight had gone out of her now, she was just ready for this to be over, to pretend like it didn’t happen.

“Can I make up for not joining yours yesterday?” He said in half a mumble, bringing her knuckles back to his lips.

She snatched her hand away, still enough anger left in her to be outraged at the proposition.

“I’m already going to be late for class.” It was a half truth, class was (miraculously) cancelled, but she had those meetings on campus. Han dropped her hand fully this time with a squeeze, moving to get out of the car.

He shut the door gently, but ambled around to the driver’s side. She rolled down the window as he approached.

“Can I at least kiss you?” He asked in such a soft way she rarely heard from him. At first, her head screamed no. She was still angry, of course she was. However, she’d needed reassurance just a moment before, who was she to deny it to him when he asked for it? Her demeanor softened. She did want him to kiss her.

“You don’t have to ask.” Though, she always appreciated that he did.

He ducked his head down and kissed her, and Leia could feel the notes of desperation there. She wondered if he felt hers. He pulled away and she wrinkled her nose.

“Go shave your face.”

Laughter, somehow, even with this hellish morning, she managed to get a small chuckle out of him.

“Whatever you say, highness.”

She smiled, something small and soft.

Maybe they’d be okay after all.

Chapter Text

Leia frowned at herself in the mirror.

The silken robe she was wearing hung off her shoulders in puddles of pinks and whites. It made the stark contrast of the black bits of lace that peeked through seem to glow against her skin.

She’d been uncomfortable all evening because of those damn scraps of black lacey things.

Still, not as uncomfortable as the last day and a half had felt with Han. That was the only reason she was even sitting here, dusting blush across her cheeks and tinting her lashes with mascara. It was also the only reason she was dealing with the itchy lace and tight waistbands of the lingerie set she was currently wearing.

It wasn’t unusual for them to fight. Their relationship was born of a year and a half of fighting as neighbors, so it was typical. However, they almost always made up at the end of the night. Leia had a long-standing rule about not going to bed angry, something she was sure stemmed from living in that house with Anakin for so long. Sometimes that would mean hashing things out until one of them called quits (Han, usually), or that meant choosing to table the issue until the next day.

Perhaps that was why their relationship felt… strained. She’d gone to bed angry the night before. In all fairness, it had not been a great two days, but still. There was a lingering insecurity writhing around in her chest she desperately felt the need to put to bed.

Han ended up still being able to make some afternoon jobs after the whole arrest fiasco. Leia didn’t know how he did it, not sleeping the night before, but she was sure he was desperate for a distraction. Or, to make up the cash he just lost to the bail.

She put the brush down, a realization making her stomach twist. He hadn’t slept last night, he probably planned on coming home and crashing, immediately. She swallowed, feeling the small pit of embarrassment opening up inside her chest and threatening to swallow her whole. She did all of this, put so much pressure for this to be the moment for her to feel more secure in their relationship, just to realize she’d planned it all wrong.

As she was contemplating what she would do if Han said he was too tired (and if her brain would take it personally), there was a sluggish knock on the door.

Sluggish, because it pounded once, then Leia just heard a thud.

Some blend of worry, nervousness, and anticipation launched her off the small stool of her vanity, careening around to get to the front door.

When she opened it, some feral yell caught in her throat, sending a dread-cold across her entire body. Han’s body half fell into the apartment, having been using the door to prop his bloody and bruised self up.

“Luke!” She yelled immediately, going to try and help steady Han while she tied the robe tighter around herself. If she thought he looked awful earlier today… it was nothing compared to now. He was almost unrecognizable.

His left eye was swollen and already darkening around the edges. His eyebrow was cut open and still dribbling blood, though it was nothing compared to his nose. Two streaks of dried blood ran from his nose down over his cut lip. He brought an arm out to steady himself and she caught it, but he yanked it back with a wince and a hiss of breath through his teeth, cradling his wrist against his chest.

“Luke!” She yelled again, hearing the desperation tear at her vocal cords.

There was a stumbling and she vaguely heard a door behind her open.

“What? Oh, shit —”

“t’s fine.” Han said, though his words came out all at once in a huff of breath. Her brother was next to her, and they both managed to limp Han into her bedroom, which was closest landing place to the front door.

He hit the bed with a groan, scrunching his eyes up tight while still protecting his wrist.

“You guys need to learn the definition of gently.” He muttered, though lifted his head when Leia came around and stuck a pillow under it. He let it drop with a wince.

“Dude.” Luke said under his breath, his arms crossed across his chest as he gazed across Han’s body. It didn’t look good. His work clothes were ripped and dirty, and the knuckles on his hands looked red and raw, not to mention the mess of his face.

“Not as bad as it looks.” Han managed, letting go of his wrist to tentatively bring a hand to his brow.

“What the fuck happened?” Leia seethed, now that she was sure he wasn’t a dead man walking, though, that might not last long.

He let out a long sigh, dragging his hand lightly down his face, Leia saw him wince at his nose. “Got jumped.” He said, muffled through his hands. “There were five of Jabba’s guys.” His words were nasally, she was noticing, with a pang of dread. “I gotta few licks in though, you should see Crumb right now.”

Leia felt her anger increase tenfold. She’d never felt more like her father when she got like this, but even that realization couldn’t stop her rage. She turned her acrimony into action, dragging her extensive first-aid cart over to the side of the bed. She dug around for an arsenal of tools, laying them out on the bed next to Han with an anger-fueled precision: gauze, alcohol wipes, medical tape, bandages, antiseptic spray, pain killers, and a litany of other things.

She picked up the alcohol wipes, ripping into the packages. She wiped the majority of the blood off around his brow and cut lip, ignoring the nose for now. He winced every time her fingers touched him, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt bad about it.

“This is going to hurt.” She said simply, holding the antiseptic bottle.

“At least pretend like you won’t enjoy it —” Han started, but it quickly turned into a sharp intake of breath as she sprayed and cleaned out the cut on his brow and dabbed at his lip. She glanced over at Luke, who was still looking slightly shell-shocked and green in the face.

“Here.” She gathered some more supplies and tossed them to her brother. “Clean his knuckles and see if you can wrap his wrist.” Luke caught them in the air, and she saw him swallow down some sort of emotion before he got to work.

Between the two of them, they got him relatively patched up in a half hour. He complained, loudly, the entire time, but she did manage to pry some more information out of him. He was the last on site cleaning up a job when a car pulled up. Five of Jabba’s guys got out, including Crumb and Bossk, and basically beat the shit out of him.

As far as they could tell, the extent of the damage was some extensive bruising on his ribs, a broken nose (which he apparently set back on the drive home, which had made Leia blanch), a badly twisted wrist and a black eye.

The twins finally relented after Leia had dumped ice packs over various parts of his body, and Han shooed them off for the third time.

“God, overbearing mother hens, both of you.” He grumbled, holding one of Leia’s ice packs to his eye, his other hand also being pinned down by one. Luke had lost the green tinge to his face, but he was clearly still uncomfortable, standing there, fidgeting with his hands.

“Are you okay?” He asked at Han, but looked to Leia for the answer.

“Dandy.” Han replied as Leia nodded.

“He will be, go, it’s okay. He’s just going to sit here and complain anyways.” She told her brother, who gave her a grateful look. She imagined it wasn’t easy for him to see Han like this, considering what he went through last winter.

“I think I’ve earned that right.” Han muttered as Luke gave him one more concerned look, then turned the corner, disappearing into his room. Leia moved to the foot of the bed, tugging his work boots off and letting them hit the floor. Han stared at her curiously, something almost like a smile on his cut lip.

He must be in pain, or stupid. Likely both. She met his gaze.

“What?” It came out sharper than she intended.

“All that for me?” He said, tilting his head with his usual smirk, but wincing with the lilt, lifting his head back up. Leia bit down her smirk, not the time.

Instead she scowled, moving to close her bedroom door in a huff. “Might have been if you didn’t come home looking like you lost a fight to a bear.”

“Hey, I could take a bear.”

“You’re delusional.” She glanced at the clock on the wall, it was past ten. She flipped the overhead light off, the lamp already on.

“And you’re wearing lace.” He commented, as her robe had loosened as she worked. She really hoped that wasn’t why Luke looked so uncomfortable. Her cheeks blazed.

In defiance, of both herself and him, she tore the robe off, flinging it on her vanity in a huff. She turned her back to Han, not seeing the change on his face as she went to undo the itchy, almost unbearable garment.

“Need a hand?” He asked in a low tone, but she was far too wound up in a different kind of way now.

“You don’t have one to give.” She noted, easily undoing the clasp herself and dropping the bra into a drawer, pulling a t-shirt out of another one. Han grunted in begrudging agreement, his eyes instead tracking her as she got rid of the irritating underwear too, replacing it with one of her regular, clean, cotton pairs.

In a thoroughly un-sexy manner, she helped Han kick his jeans off and slowly pull his work shirt over his head, where Leia saw the bruising on his stomach already beginning to develop. She tried to swallow back the lump of worry that had lodged in her throat, but it was stuck. She quickly deposited the ice packs back in the freezer, coming back into her room to see Han had managed to get himself under the covers.

She followed suit, except he was now on her usual side, the one closest to the door. So she walked around to the other one, the one with the small night table that had several of his things on it, and slid in next to him.

“I’m going to have to wash these sheets tomorrow, now.” She muttered in fake annoyance, pulling the comforter up over her shoulders. Han hummed, reaching out with his good hand to pull her closer.

“You’ll live.” He said sleepily, turned on his side so he was speaking into her hair. His fingers trailed lightly over her shoulder. “You know, if you want to, we still can —”

“Don’t even think about it.” She interrupted him, eliciting a small chuckle. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her heart rate that hadn’t stopped racing since she opened the front door. Now that the panic and anger had faded, she was also trying to make sense of the mess of sensations happening in her chest. Han’s fingers went to tangle in her hair.

“Chewie?” She asked, just now remembering the dog, as they usually stayed in Han’s apartment with him.

“Lando’s got him.” He answered, weaving several strands through his fingers. “You workin’ tomorrow?” He asked, which piqued her curiosity.

“Yeah, evening shift. Why? Do you need me to take off?”

He shook his head, a tiny, miniscule movement.

“I’ll pick you up, Luke has class tomorrow night.”

Her brows furrowed. “I’ll take the bus like I usually do, it’s fine.”

“The bus station is a fifteen minute walk from here.”

“So?” He’d never said anything about the bus or the walk before.

She heard him let out of breath, his good hand going to rest on the back of her head. “Just let me do it.”

“You’ll be lucky if you’re upright tomorrow.”

“I’ll be fine.” he said, with enough of a note of finality that she dropped it. He sighed again, and she felt his hand lift to rub at his temple. It wasn’t long before it floated back down, and she felt him lay a kiss in her hair.

“You scared me.” She said, mostly under her breath. She felt his muscles tighten around her, for just a brief moment.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He said in an equally soft voice.

“You’ve said that a lot today.”

“Had a lot to be sorry for.” She felt him swallow. “Though, technically, not my fault.” She poked him, very lightly, above his bruised ribs. He winced anyway. “It’s not my fault!” He continued, a little more amusement in his voice.

“Go to sleep, you idiot.” She muttered, tucking her head so her forehead rested against him.

“Yes ma’am.” Was his response, though already slurring with sleep.

Han fell asleep quickly, to no one’s surprise. Leia stayed awake longer than she wanted to admit, counting heartbeats and ensuring his weren’t going to mysteriously stop in the middle of the night.

But at least he was here, and not in jail tonight. She could count on that much.

He was here.

Chapter Text

“This is getting ridiculous.” Leia said, standing outside the little cafe she worked at, arms crossed across her chest. The key she’d just used to lock the door jingled in her hands.

“Your chariot.” Han teased, leaning against his truck he’d parked on the street, gesturing to the beat-up vehicle behind him. In the fading sunlight, it was easy to see how much he’d healed since his encounter with Jabba’s goons. The cut above his eyebrow and on his lip were scabbed over, and there was only a little yellow and green bruising around his eye. Still, Leia frowned.

“I think to qualify as a chariot, it needs to reliably run.” She muttered, but shouldered her slipping bag anyway. Han held a hand out for it, which she graciously dumped onto him as he swung open the passenger door for her.

“Don’t jinx it.” He said. Leia stepped inside. “She’s got a 70% success rate right now.” He closed the door once she was settled in the seat, meandering his way back around. “Besides,” he said, sliding into his own seat and tossing her bag in the back. “She beats the bus.”

She didn’t have a rebuttal for that. As annoying and overbearing as this escort service had become, it did beat the bus ride and then walk home when Luke had the car. As absentminded as she could be about her own safety sometimes, she’d never tried to make the full walk home by herself at night. Still, she’d taken the bus for years, it was perfectly safe.

It had been like this for the past almost two weeks. It was fine at first, being finals season and all. She was either staying up all night at home to study or at the library, and by then was usually grateful for the ride home.

But now, with no finals on her plate and her first summer without dealing with Anakin, she was looking forward to her freedom. If she didn’t have the car, Han was there. Even when Luke would go pick her up, he was nervous. He’d deny it if she confronted him about it, which would only start another fight. She knew it came from a good place, he didn’t want what happened to him to happen to her, but it was stifling being under his thumb like this.

At least now, she wasn’t feeling as insecure in their relationship. Han had shown her, many times, just how little she had to worry about in the week after his incident. Her preparation that night had not gone unnoticed, even if it had been in vain. He’d more than made up for it by now.

It was only a few days, really, when she did feel nervous about the two of them. But a few days was enough to scare her.

Han drove with old Johnny Cash playing through the crackling speakers. It was probably his most well-worn CD at this point, and Leia knew he played it when he was feeling anxious, or otherwise bad. He pulled out of downtown, but went the opposite way from home. Her brows furrowed.

“Where are we going?”

The corner of his mouth lifted, slightly. “Canada.” He joked, she hoped.

“You don’t have a passport.”

“I have one, it’s just been misplaced.” He corrected, which unfortunately made her smile.

“So,” She tried again, pulling one knee up to her chest. “Where are you taking me? Should I be worried?” Half a joke. With him it always had to be half-joking.

“Relax, princess.” He said with that half-grin. “Do you trust me?” He looked at her, eyes sparkling with a kind of mischievous energy she hadn’t seen from him in weeks.

“Not even a little bit.” That made him grin more, her heart swelled.

“Good answer.”

Han had bumped the truck across a gravel road, and then a dirt road to park up on a ridge. This ridge was at the very top of a large hill covered in trees, one she’d heard about for years but had never made the time to actually explore. It was infamous in highschool for being an out-of-the-way spot couples could go for some time on their own.

It was beautiful, if you chose to ignore its reputation. There was a clearing where the sky opened up, and you could see their entire little town below them. Not quite enough to see their apartments, but Leia could point out her cafe and the buildings she had class in from their observation spot.

Han had, somehow, cleaned the bed of his truck out from all his tools and construction mess. She had never seen it so empty in the entire time that she’d known him. Inside he’d layered a couple of blankets and a few pillows, turning the truck-bed into a semi-comfortable place to watch the sunset.

Which, of course, she’d teased him for, as Han never seemed to be the romantic-sunset-watching type. He’d taken it, gracefully, but whispered a dozen dirty things in her ear that balanced out the scene, and, well, seemed fitting given their chosen hideout.

They sat together, lazily propped up against the truck with their legs spread out. Leia had her head resting against his shoulder and one of his hands was playing with the end of her braid, the other wrapped around her. The sky had turned brilliant shades of orange, red, pink, and finally a dark blue, washing their small clearing in a fading color. It was a true summer sunset if she’d ever seen one.

“So,” she started again, interrupting the comfortable silence they’d fallen into. “Are we going to talk about it?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

“Really?” She sat up slightly, turning to face him. His arm fell away from her shoulders. “So, this is how it’s going to be forever? I never get to take a walk alone again.” She said it in a half-amused manner, though, it was a concern that had been dancing around in the back of her head.

“Sure you can walk alone.” He mused, eyes still set on the last bit of color slowly disappearing. “I’ll just have Luke tail you.”

“That’s not alone.”

He shrugged, still not meeting her eye. “Is it such a bad thing?”

“No.” She admitted. The extra time together had been nice, Leia was picking up more shifts as the spring semester had ended, and Han was working overtime to make up for what he lost to bail. “It’s just not sustainable.”

He sighed, finally looking at her and seeing that her tone had turned serious.

“Luke is taking a summer semester and you’re working.” She continued, poking him lightly in the chest. “You’re gonna have to trust that I’m not going to get kidnapped or anything.” She joked, but his features turned into a frown.

“I don’t have to trust that if I just pick you up.” He said, slightly gruffly.

She rolled her eyes. “You aren’t going to be able to be there all the time.”

“Watch me.”

“Han.”

“Leia.”

They stared at each other, both too stubborn on their own side of the issue.

“I’m going for a run in the morning.” She said, defiantly.

“Take Chewie. He could use it.” He retorted immediately.

She made a noise of frustration, falling back so she was leaning against his chest again with a huff. “You have an answer for everything.”

“Now you know how it feels.” He said. She could hear the smile in his voice.

“Only one of us can be a know-it-all, and I’ve firmly claimed that position.”

He laughed this time, something that was unfortunately becoming rare these days.

They stayed, watching as the sky turned dark and the lights of their town started to glow beyond the ridge. The fireflies had come out, accentuating the sky with pops of light that seemed to come out of nowhere. Eventually, Leia pointed out the hour and Han’s early shift in the morning, and he begrudgingly agreed, chariotting them home.

It was weird though, for a moment on the drive home, Leia noticed a familiar looking sedan found them on the highway. She’d noticed that car before, parked in the apartment complex. It was new, not a resident’s, she didn’t think. It could mean nothing, it probably did mean nothing. There were likely a million cars that looked just like that on the road, and Han’s paranoia had her feeling crazy. He hadn’t noticed the car, or didn’t verbalize it, so Leia kept that information to herself, no need to work him up more than he already was.

It was arguably cute for the first two weeks.

But it had gotten old fast.

So old, Leia had resorted to something she hated doing, especially to Han.

She lied.

She’d claim she was working later than she was, or that she’d coordinated with Luke or a friend to get home. She’d sneak out early in the morning, even before Han left for work, just to get some peace and quiet outside of their apartment complex and her job.

She felt bad, sure. She always felt slimy when the little white lie would come out, like she could feel her heart blacken back to the place it was for so long, spending years lying to Luke and everyone else around her.

But surely it didn’t warrant a reaction like this.

Han was silent on the car ride home. He’d found her ambling back to their apartments in the buttery summer sunlight, headphones in and oblivious to her tail.

Until said tail honked at her, startling her out of her thoughts.

He did not look happy.

And didn’t say a word about it until they were safely back inside the twin’s apartment, but Leia could feel the anger radiating off of him.

“You lied.” He started, whirling on her as soon as they crossed the threshold.

She crossed her arms over her chest, having steeled herself the entire drive over for this fight, which it surely would be.

“You haven’t given me a choice!” She threw her crossed arms up in the air, moving to stalk past him into the living room. He let her blow by him.

She noted Luke’s door was cracked, but with any luck he was out of the apartment or deaf behind headphones.

“A choice?” He questioned, following her inside. “You think I’m choosing this?” He pointed a finger at his chest, jaw hung halfway open.

“Choosing to be overbearing and controlling?” She scoffed, turning back to face him once she’d run out of space. “Yeah, I think that is a voluntary choice on your part.”

“Right, because I chose to have those guys come find me.” He started, and Leia knew this wasn’t going anywhere good. “I chose to get my ass kicked.” He started counting off on his fingers. “I chose to be so worried about you two I could hardly think when you weren’t in front of me.”

Leia interrupted him. “You two? You’re not acting like this with Luke.”

“Luke, for once, listens to me!” His voice raised, but he quickly shut his mouth, putting a hand over it as to keep anything else from falling out. He sighed, his hand moving down to rub his jaw and then across the back of his head. “Bossk, Crumb, and Boba Fett didn’t see Luke with me.”

She felt her temper fade by a smidgen of a point. Not enough.

“So what if they saw me?”

“You know what.” His voice was low, the anger having dissipated into frustration. Maybe at her, maybe at himself, definitely at the situation.

“So what, this is just how it’s going to be, forever?” She asked, repeating her words from the other night. His jaw tightened.

“Maybe! I don’t know what you want me to say!” The exasperation came back in his tone. “I get it, it’s annoying.” He continued. “But don’t you think you should be a little bit grateful you have someone that cares this much?”

“Grateful?” The word came out like a curse, her lips pulling back in disgust. “You’re telling me I should be grateful that I can’t go anywhere alone?” Now she pointed at her own chest, mimicking his move from earlier. “Grateful that I can’t do something as simple as walk home from work on a sunny day. Grateful that my partner doesn’t trust me enough to care for myself!” It was her turn for her voice to raise.

“Yeah, maybe.” He said defensively, and she saw himself building up his mental walls again, something that if she wasn’t so angry at him, would have hurt her. “If I’m the villain for trying to keep you safe, then so be it.” His tone was final.

“I never asked you to keep me safe.”

“Sure sounds like you don’t need me, then.” He was staring daggers at her at this point. Something that usually would have made her squirm only seemed to drive her stubbornness further.

“Not as a bodyguard, no. I don’t.”

“Fine.” He turned on his heels, launching himself towards the door.

“What are you doing?” She yelled after him, before her pride could stop her.

“Leaving!” He yelled back, without even looking over his shoulder. “Since it’s so clearly what you want.”

To his credit, he didn’t slam the door when he left. Though, he might as well. She stood shell shocked alone in the living room, feeling hot tears of frustration threaten to spill over. She made a loud, frustrated noise. Her hands balled into fists at her side and she looked up at the ceiling to try and blink away the moisture in her eyes.

There was a creak, and she hated how her heart flipped, thinking it was Han coming back in.

But it was Luke who exited his room, a wary look on his face while he tried to read Leia. She pressed her lips together.

“He’s just trying to help, you know.”

“Oh fuck off.” She muttered, immediately ashamed, but too prideful to do anything but stomp off to her own room. Once behind the safety of her door, where there were no prying eyes of brothers or boyfriends, the tears fell.

And they fell for hours. A combination of guilt from the fight, shame of what she said to Luke, grief of her freedom, and fear of Han’s worries coming true. But mostly, mostly she wished she’d never started the fight in the first place.

As she slid under her sheets, alone again, she tried not to imagine what Han was doing just upstairs.

At least she’d succeeded in not going to bed angry. She was just going to bed sad.

Chapter Text

“Luke this isn’t fair, you had the car yesterday!” Leia complained, arguing with her brother in the foyer of their apartment.

“I called dibs on the car for today weeks ago.” He replied, taking the keys off the hook. “It’s not my fault you and Han are fighting and you won’t ask him.”

Her lips pressed together in a thin line. Of course he’d call her bluff, immediately. He knew why she wanted the car for this errand, and it had something to do with avoiding the man upstairs. She hated the way Luke had been able to see straight through her, something he seemed able to do more and more often now.

“Fine.” She seethed, knowing it wouldn’t be a battle she’d win. He did technically call dibs.

Luke left for… whatever he was doing, quickly thereafter. Which left Leia alone in the apartment, typing out a pitiful text to said man she was looking to avoid.

Who knocked on the door a half hour later.

“Since when do you knock anymore?” Leia asked while she swung the door open, annoyance still clearly written across her face. It softened, ever so slightly, seeing that Han had brought Chewie along. The dog didn’t bark, but wagged his tail when he saw Leia.

Han looked, well, he looked good. Like he always did. Fresh out of the shower with a clean, gray t-shirt on and a pair of jeans miraculously without grease stains. Maybe it was the pain of their fight or the fact she’d spent another night alone last night, but seeing him made her heart pound uncomfortably in her chest.

“Mornin’ princess.” He said, though the usual amusement in his tone was muted. “Good to see you, too.” She scowled, her pride winning over her grief, grabbing her bag and joining both him and Chewie outside. She gave Chewie a pat of the head, pointedly ignoring Han.

With the door locked, she tore down the stairs in front of them, easily beating them to the truck and having to impatiently wait for him to stroll up. Which he did, agonizingly slow, sticking the key in his door, opening it, and pressing a button to unlock hers.

While she got seated, Han opened the door for Chewie to claim the middle seat, who hopped in with no problem, though, he did immediately try to crawl onto Leia’s lap. Usually she wouldn’t have minded, but the tension was already weighing so heavily on her, she didn’t need an extra 80 pounds sitting on top of her.

Han managed to get Chewie settled with a couple of words, sliding into his own seat and turning the engine over. The seat in the truck was too small for Chewie to fully lay down, so he put his head in Leia’s lap and thumped his tail on Han’s.

They drove in an uncomfortable silence for the first bit, passing through town and eventually into the less populated, woodsy part the twins had grown up in. Han’s fingers drummed nervously against the wheel, the only sound in the car being the wind whistling through the open windows.

“You know, Chewie missed you last night.” Han said, strain in his voice.

“Oh, Chewie did?” Her brows raised, fingers tangled in the dog’s fur, but happy he’d finally broken the awkward silence.

“Wouldn’t stop whinin’ and complainin’ all night.” The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “I’m pretty sure he started howling at some point.”

“Howling?” She asked with half a laugh, glancing at the dog’s head in her lap. Chewie was thoroughly unconcerned with them, eyes closed and seemingly on his way to sleep. “He seems content now.”

“Don’t let him fool you, he was a wreck.” He stole a glance at her, and so much of it reminded her of how they acted before they were dating. This weird tension, the silent pull, the will-they-won’t-they part. It felt exhausting, she didn’t know how they had kept it up for so long. She swallowed, steeling herself for what she wanted to say next.

“I don’t like it when we fight.” She’d meant to sound strong, but her voice came out rather soft.

Han looked at her again. “It’s not my favorite activity either.”

“But we aren’t going to agree on this.” She said, matter-of-factly. Han’s jaw tensed, and she could see him practically chewing on his words.

“I don’t mean to smother you.” He sighed, taking a hand and rubbing it through his hair when they were at a stoplight. “I know you can take care of yourself. Hell, it’s what made me want you in the first place.” He cleared his throat. “You should be able to do what you want, when you want. It’s my shit that’s stopping you.”

“You’re stopping me.” She corrected, which he winced at.

“I’m getting to that part.” He complained, but continued anyway. “You wouldn’t have to be careful if you weren’t seen with me. That’s what I’m tryin’ to say.” He swallowed, and she saw a muscle flick in his jaw. There was something about his facial expression and his words. Some sort of pain to them she so rarely ever saw from him. She softened. “I don’t know what to do, honest. I feel like if I just go about shit like normal, something else is gonna happen, and I can’t guarantee it’ll be just to me.” He glanced at her again, and she hoped he saw the understanding there.

“I don’t know the answer either.” She admitted.

“There is one.” He said in a low voice, which made her stomach sink like a stone. It was the option that kept her from sleeping well at night, one she’d prefer to think wasn’t an option at all.

“You promised you’d stop talking about that.” She warned, feeling the panic start to rise at her periphery.

He sighed. “I know.”

“But here you are, talking about it again.”

“Yeah, well.” He stopped, biting his lower lip like he did when he was thinking. “I don’t know what else there is to do.”

“You can’t run away from your problems, Han.”

“And I can’t let them follow me home, either.” He said, with an edge to his tone. She chose her next words carefully.

“Your problems never bothered me.”

“They bother me,” was his quick response. He sighed again. “It’s not fair, to you, or to Luke.”

“I think we can decide what is fair to us.”

“But you both have such a hero complex.” He muttered. “That shit will get you killed. You saw what happened to Luke last year.” This time her stomach did turn, flashes of Luke’s bloody and beat-up face obscuring her vision. Did he go over to their father’s because of a hero complex? God. It made sense, it followed with everything she knew about her brother. She shifted uncomfortably. “I would never forgive myself if something happened to either of you because of my shit.”

He pressed his mouth together firmly, and Leia noticed that his knuckles had gone white on the steering wheel. With soft, gentle hands, she coaxed one of his off the wheel, pulling it across Chewie and setting it in her lap and intertwining their fingers. “We can’t see the future.” She started, closing her other hand over his. “But I don’t like it if you’re not in it.” The confession made her heart feel funny, light and heavy at the same time.

Han squeezed her hand. “I need to make sure you have a future first.”

“This is sounding awfully dramatic.”

“You don’t know these people like I do.” His hand tightened. “They hurt people, and they enjoy it.”

“We don’t even know if they’re targeting us.” She ran a finger over the raised edges of his knuckles. “I don’t want to lose you to potentials.”

By this time, Han had pulled into the parking lot of the bank. He shifted the gear into park, then looked over at Leia. The walls he’d built the night before were down now, even if just for a moment. She squeezed his hand.

“You might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He admitted in a soft voice. She couldn’t help the way the corners of her mouth turned up.

“I know.”

With a final squeeze, she let go of his hand, bouncing out of the truck with a bark of surprise from Chewie. She reeled around to the driver’s side, where Han had already rolled down his window.

“Can I kiss you?” She asked, using his words from a few weeks ago. He smiled, something small, but enough to give her peace.

“You don’t have to ask.”

Leia came bounding out of the bank about 20 minutes later, her bag much lighter after having deposited her tips from the last few months.

Chewie barked again to signal her arrival. She scratched him behind his ears from the open car window before she opened the door and scooched him over with her hips, reclaiming her seat.

“Better?” Han asked.

“Now that I don’t have $200, mostly in ones, taking up my sock drawer? Yes.”

“So that’s where you keep it.”

“It’s counted nightly.” She warned in an amused tone.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

They’d pulled out of the bank and were back on those familiar wooded backstreets, falling into an easy conversation for the first time in what felt like weeks. They even laughed, at each other, with each other, hell it didn’t matter. They were laughing, together.

Of course it couldn’t last.

Leia didn’t notice the familiar looking sedan behind them until a moment before it slammed into the back of Han’s truck. She only managed to get out a warning yell before all three of them pitched forward. Chewie yelped, but Leia managed to hold him steady enough that he didn’t go flying.

“What the fu—” Han was cut off when the other car hit their bumper again, tires squealing on the road. Leia’s seatbelt caught her painfully and Chewie barked. She swung her head around and confirmed it, the car was that same sedan she’d caught trailing them in the past few weeks. She reached for the glovebox, but Han’s hand stopped her.

“Don’t give them a reason to start shooting.” He warned in a low tone, pushing the engine hard to try and get away from their pursuers. It was the second time they’d been caught in a situation like this, and always on some back road they never saw another car on. They’d known where they wanted to corner them. It was just like last time. They had it planned, down to a science.

Leia grit her teeth, finding and grabbing Chewie’s leash in case they tried to hit them again.

“Should you just go talk to them?” She asked above the roar of the truck’s engine being pushed to its limit.

“Yeah, why not invite them over for dinner, huh?” He yelled back, taking a quick right turn. Leia had her hands firmly on Chewie now, and had him mostly stabilized so he wouldn’t go flying as Han tried to shake the other car off.

“I’m serious!”

“So am I!” The car came rocketing around the turn behind them, Han made a frustrated grunt.

“What do they want?”

“Oh if I had to venture a wild guess…” He said, taking another sharp turn. “It would be me.”

“I gathered that part.”

“Look, sweetie, I love to argue with you, but I’ve got my hands full at the moment.” He whipped the car down another corner, running them into a more residential part of town. Still, too quiet, not enough eyes to scare off their pursuers.

Suddenly, the other car came skidding around the corner and drove up the other lane, putting their car parallel to Han’s. There was no time for Leia to even attempt to hide. She let go of Chewie and ducked down, flipping the glovebox open as she did so. Han made a noise of protest, but she firmly ignored him.

It took no time at all to slide the familiar weapon into her hand, the one she knew Han kept there, and get it ready. She wrapped her hands around it but kept it pointed at the ground, to Han’s point, there was no point in starting a shootout. Her hair whipped out of her open window, she sat up enough to peak out, keeping the gun aimed low.

“One week!” The driver screeched, and Leia vaguely recognized the voice. Either Bossk or Crumb, she couldn’t remember who was who. The other one sat in the passenger seat. “One week, Solo!” He yelled again before punching the gas, sending the sedan screeching in front of them. Black exhaust whooshed into the car, causing Leia to sputter and cough. They cut over back into their lane, very nearly clipping Han’s headlights, and took off at a much faster speed than Han’s truck was capable of.

With Jabba’s guys already having rounded a corner, Han took the next turn and pulled the truck over to the shoulder. They were both breathing heavily by the time he’d limped the truck to a part, and Chewie was panting between them. Han’s hands were still white-knuckled on the steering wheel, and Leia was still gripping the gun.

“Told you.” He said between breaths, giving Leia a look. She swallowed, the adrenaline keeping her mouth closed as she tried to reel with what had just happened.

“How did they even know where we are?” She asked, once she felt like her heart wasn’t going to beat out of her chest. Han’s face screwed up in anger, and he ripped open the driver’s door. His name came out of her mouth in time for her to understand what he was doing, popping the hood and beginning an inspection.

Leia got out, too, leaving a whining Chewie inside.

Han leaned over the engine, running his fingers along the machinery. She had no idea what he was looking for. He eventually went to inspect the hood itself, and scoffed when he pulled away a small white disk, stuck on the inside of the hood by the latch.

He held it between two fingers. “Bastards.”

Before Leia could examine it, or come up with a better plan, Han launched the small white disk into the trees. It quickly sailed out of sight. He shut the hood in a flourish, stomping to the back of the car to check the damage. She didn’t follow, but heard a mutter and a sigh, and what sounded like a boot hitting a tire. She heard him lumber back to the driver’s side.

Not knowing what else to do, Leia mirrored him, getting back into her own seat with a slack jaw.

Han was running slightly oily hands through his hair, leaving streaks. He punched the steering wheel, causing the horn to beep and both Leia and Chewie to jump.

“One week to what?” She found herself asking, though she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know.

“To pay back all of it.” He muttered, hand now holding his forehead. “Every penny.”

“All of it? I thought you guys worked out some sort of plan.”

“That was before I was arrested.” He said between his fingers, his hand having slid down to cup his jaw. “That was one of Jabba’s conditions. Keep it clean.” He sighed, letting his hands drop back to the wheel. “You don’t happen to have eight grand hiding in that sock drawer of yours, do you?”

Chapter Text

TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: Police Brutality

May 31st, 9:00pm

Needless to say, the week after Han and Leia’s encounter on the road was not a fun one.

Every hour he was awake, Han was at work or picking up odd jobs. They all knew it was in vain, in no world could he have made eight thousand in a week. The twins tried to help pool money from the little they had access to, but the bulk of their savings were still tied up in courts. Besides, he wouldn’t have taken it anyways. In fact, he seemed a bit offended at the offer.

Leia tried not to take it personally. In fact, there were lots of things she tried not to take personally this week. Han had abandoned his effort of trying to keep an eye on them, there simply wasn’t time. Plus, his heart was never in it. He clearly trusted Leia to be on her own, his trust just didn’t extend to what Jabba’s guys might do if they found her out there.

If she saw him at all, it was at night. He’d come home after 9pm from a 6am shift, shower, and absolutely crash. Even when he was awake, it was clear his mind was still on Jabba, no matter what Leia tried to do to ease his stress. The twins and Lando had taken turns caring for Chewie, which the dog didn’t seem to mind. It was actually really nice to have his presence around when Han’s was so absent. She’d taken to bringing him to bed with her at night when she knew Han would be late.

Her feelings were… complicated. Of course she was worried. The worry lives deep in her bones and refused to ease, coiling around her body and brain with a vice grip. But worry didn’t get her anywhere. Worry wasn’t productive, it didn’t solve problems. She was always someone who needed a plan, needed to do something to not feel useless.

But now? She just felt stuck. Stuck and unable to help, which was practically torture.

So, she tried to go about life as normally as possible. She went to work, she talked with Luke, she waited for Han upstairs, and tried desperately to sit on her hands.

She should have known that line of thinking was doomed from the beginning.

All of her free time was spent researching. Jabba had an impressive track record, as far as public criminal records go. Bossk, Crumb, and Boba Fett also had long sheets, but nothing loomed quite as dark as Jabba’s.

Extortion. Drug trafficking. Assault and Battery. Manslaughter.

And several more unsavory ones that left her skin crawling.

Weirdly, that was just the list of the charges she was able to dig up. There didn’t seem to be convictions for any of those, at least, that she could find. It seemed that his cronies were in and out of jail, often getting out early for whatever reason, only to end up right back inside.

What she found made her nerves heighten. Han wasn’t bluffing when he told her these were bad people. Not that she hadn’t interacted with plenty of bad people before, Boba Fett was apparently one, but this was an entirely different level.

Boba Fett. Robert. How did he fit into all of this? He practically disappeared all those years ago, she supposed he could have gone anywhere. Ending up in this mess would have been the last of her guesses.

She tried to broach the subject with Luke, to see what he remembered of the man they called Robert. As she suspected, it wasn’t much. He would go to the range and take the classes their mother had asked them to, but he never seemed too keen on them. It follows that he wouldn’t remember much about their instructor, nor Leia’s childhood crush on him.

These were all thoughts swirling in her head as she drove their shared car home from work. It was late, well past dark. She’d taken some extra hours deep-cleaning the cafe after closing, seeing as she would be waiting for Han anyways. She actually missed classes, missed having something else to occupy her brainspace other than this mess. She ideally wondered if she should have taken a summer semester and used it to get ahead.

In her imagination she started picking out classes, which ones she could have taken that would have gotten her that much closer to graduation.

Bright red and blue lights and the woop of a siren jolted her out of her stream of thoughts, sending her heart straight into her throat. She checked the rearview, and saw the lights were indeed right behind her, washing the interior of the car with color. With a groan, she flipped on the hazards, easing the car to the side of the road.

It was dark here, she realized as soon as she put the car in park. They were still technically in town, but it was a long stretch of road that connected the residential area to the busier parts. Unlit and unwatched. Her skin prickled.

It took a full five minutes for the cop to get out of his car after they were stopped. Leia had enough time to shoot a text to Luke, letting him know she’d be late because she was pulled over. She nervously held her license and the car’s registration in her hand, tapping it against the open window. She’d never been pulled over before. She must have been getting sleepy at the wheel, maybe she veered out of her lane or something.

When he did approach, he did so holding a heavy flashlight, the brightness obscuring her view of the person. She held a hand up to block the beam, the cop shining it directly into her face.

She could only see his outline. Tall, lanky, and his uniform fit like it was two sizes too large. The flashlight shook almost imperceivably in his hand.

“License and registration.” He said, and she noticed his voice was nasally and a little squeaky. With one hand still shielding her eyes from the beam of light, she handed her documents over with the other hand.

The beam of the flashlight mercifully left her face as the cop pointed it down to review her documents. She saw he had a pinched face and slicked back, blonde hair. There was sweat beading at his temple. To her surprise, he didn’t go back to his car to run her license. She halfway hoped the Skywalker on the end of her name would give her leeway, as it did with Han a year and a half ago.

It didn’t seem to have any effect on the man, who actually pocketed her documents, turning the beam back into the car. She held her hand up to shield her face again.

“Is there a problem, officer?”

“Tail light. It’s… it’s out.” He muttered, which made Leia frown. Sure, it was possible, but Han was always tinkering away at the twin’s car, too. Surely he would have noticed if a light was out. She thought back to his arrest, and how he got caught with a broken tag light. Maybe he wouldn’t have noticed. “And your registration. It’s –” he paused, as if searching for the words. “It’s expired.”

“No, it’s not.” She said, defiantly, which was probably not the best move in this situation. “It renews in February.”

“Well, my system says it’s no good.” The cop responded gruffly, still keeping the flashlight on her. She swallowed back her annoyance, there was obviously no system, but also clearly no point in escalating this if she didn’t have to. “I need you to step out of the car, ma’am.”

She tamped down the alarm bells ringing in her head. If she cooperated with his asinine requests, she’d likely be let go with nothing more than a ticket. Which she would then take and fight in court, because she knew their registration was in date. Slowly, she reached to undo her seatbelt and turn the engine off.

She glanced up at the cop, who gave her an impatient ”Come on now.” She tossed her phone into the passenger seat, opening the door. The cop took a step back, and she saw his free hand was placed on the gun in his holster.

A bite of true fear washed over her until she reasoned with it, and put it back in its box until she had time to deal with it. Now was not the time to let fear rule her decisions, she needed to be logical. She stepped fully out of the car. The cop kicked the door closed once she cleared it, to her astoundment.

“I’m gonna need you to put your hands behind your back.” He said with a slight tremble.

This time Leia’s alarm bells rang too loudly to be ignored.

“I’m sorry, what am I being arrested for —” She couldn’t finish the question before she was shoved into the side of the car, an iron grip on her right arm twisted her until she faced the vehicle. Her arms were wrenched back with surprising strength and she felt the cool metal of cuffs circle her wrist. Glass from the car window pressed heavily into her face. Her noise of protest was muffled when the cop pressed her face harder against the glass, his other hand still holding her wrists together.

“What am I being detained for?” She tried to ask again, muffled because of the glass, but she felt him grab a fistful of her hair. Before she could yell, he pulled her head back and then slammed it against the frame of the car.

Stars burst into her vision as she stumbled. Pain exploded over her forehead and she felt something wet and warm trickle down her face. Her breath started to come in pants as she felt her balance sway again. She was roughly pulled away from her car, but she tripped over the cops feet and fell flat on the asphalt, knocking her head into the concrete.

There was a grumble of frustration from above her as she tried to blink the blood out of her eyes, scrambling for a way to sit herself up. The world shifted again as she was hauled to her feet by her wrists, which screamed in protest. She wasn’t given a chance to find her footing before she was dragged backwards to the cop car, half by her wrists and half by her hair.

She supposed that’s when she started screaming. She didn’t know why the thought hadn’t occurred to her earlier. At the absolute best this was blatant police brutality, at the worse… she couldn’t even think about that right now. Fear started to overwhelm everything else in her system. She kicked at the cop, not caring if she got a resistance charge, too. He growled and tried to shove her inside, but she managed to twist out of the way and land harshly on the ground again.

He picked her up like she was nothing, and she continued to scream while he tried to force her in the back. She managed to brace her feet on either side of the door frame, but he hammered her ankle with the side of his flashlight. She felt a blinding stab of pain and her leg fold, which then provided access for the cop to brutally shove her in the back.

She landed face first on seats, twisting her body so she could try and see what was coming next.

That was when the flashlight hit her head, and everything went dark.

May 31st, 10:30pm

Luke wouldn’t describe himself as a nervous person. Especially after the events of the past two years, he was more inclined to say he’d grown slightly more cautious, if anything. Who wouldn’t be? Even the trial, which had seemed to keep Leia up for three months straight, didn’t affect him like that. He almost felt bad about it, looking back.

But, he definitely had his triggers. Anything that had to do with Leia made him feel like he was 6 years old again, when Leia had gone missing at the beach. Their parents had searched high and low for her, even calling in the lifeguards and local police to help with the search after hours of nothing.

He would never forget that fear, holding onto his mother’s hand and trying to read her and their father’s worried faces, wondering if his sister was really gone.

Luckily, she was found half a mile down the beach, having sought a safe space with another visiting family who found her wandering around. The Organas, he remembered. Padme and Anakin were so thankful they took the couple out for dinner and became fast friends. They’d sometimes plan vacations so they could meet again, but that had ended ages ago, even before Padme got sick.

At first, Leia’s text didn’t concern him much. He’d been pulled over in that car plenty of times before, but his were almost always for speeding. Leia didn’t drive like that… most of the time. The concern came when she didn’t respond to his text after 30 minutes. Or his call after an hour, or his many other calls in the half hour since then.

The twins shared locations with each other, and he’d checked hers since the moment he’d gotten the first text.

But it was still. It had been still since she’d texted him, halfway between their apartment and her work. He was just debating on when to rope Han into it when the front door of their apartment opened abruptly, and Han walked in.

“Have you talked to Leia?” He asked by way of greeting.

“Not since nine.” Luke said, clutching his phone. “She texted me and said she was being pulled over, but her location hasn’t changed .” He showed Han his phone, who then frowned at the screen, muttering a curse under his breath.

It didn’t take long for them to jump in Han’s truck and drive out to her last known location. In fact, it was only a ten minute drive away, which made her lack of a response feel all the more eerie.

It didn’t take long to spot the twin’s car pulled over on the side of an unlit road, still with its hazards on. Luke felt something twist painfully in his gut when he realized there was no one occupying the car. Han cursed again next to him, pulling the truck behind their car and slamming it into park. They both jumped out and started walking around the vehicle.

Luke searched inside. Leia’s phone was on the passenger seat, and a quick check showed the five missed calls from Luke and two from Han, as well as a slew of text messages.

The keys were also thrown on the seat, they were lucky no one came by and took a look inside. Still, he felt his panic starting to rise like hackles on a dog. While he was inspecting the inside, he heard Han curse and slam a hand into the frame.

“What?”

“Comere.” He grumbled, and Luke crawled back out of the passenger side and moved to the otherside of the car, staring at a dark splotch where Han pointed.

“Is that —”

“Yeah.”

Luke swallowed, feeling the latent fear rise to the surface. Unlike the past, however, it didn’t freeze him in place. He clenched and unclenched his hands, trying to remain in his body while his brain went off in a million different directions.

“Do you think,” he paused, not wanting to anger Han more, but the combination of anger and fear prompted him anyway. “Do you think this was a real cop?”

“No, I don’t.” Han said with an icy glare. He noticed Han’s hands were also balled into fists.

“So, do we call the real cops?”

“No.” Han answered gruffly. “If this is what I think it is, it’ll only make it worse.”

“What do you think it is?”

Han just stared at him. Some far off, hardly readable stare. But Luke knew what it meant.

Jabba.

Chapter Text

May 31st, 11:30pm

Leia’s head was pounding, like an entire marching band was using her forehead for practice. Trumpets blared in her ears and the drums made a steady thump, thump, thump above her eye. For a moment, it was just pressure, but then the pain bloomed across her face. Bright, fresh pain demanding to be felt. Pain that pushed her right back to where she was two years ago, holding a blood-soaked t-shirt to her face as she drove home.

Then she felt the awkward pull of her shoulders, her wrists that were jammed behind her, her throbbing right ankle.

It didn’t all come back to her in a rush. When she woke she just remembered.

The lights. The stop. The text. The fight.

The thump in her head wasn’t drums, it was the throbbing wound from her head being slammed into the car frame. The noise she was hearing wasn’t trumpets, it was brakes squealing and the bump of the car along the road.

A scream was caught in her throat. Panic flooded all rational systems in her head. Fear that she hadn’t felt since the trial all came screeching back to the surface, threatening to pull her under if she didn’t get her act together. Her heart strained in her chest as the magnitude of her fear descended. She was trapped.

Think. She had to think, she needed enough terror from her system in order to think.

She tried to catalog her body to start, understand what injuries she was working with. She’d been thrown horizontally across the back seat of the car, face first. Her hands were pinned against the seatback and her legs were crumpled by the door.

Her head throbbed, but so did something in her right ankle. She stretched it, surprised to find some discomfort but no blaring signals of pain. Probably bruised around the bone where he’d slammed the flashlight on it.

She was staring at the back of the driver’s seat, scanning for any other injuries, when that awful, nasally voice started speaking.

“Think it’s her.” He mumbled.

There was something garbled and incomprehensible afterwards. She felt the panic starting to crowd around her again, cutting off her air supply.

Breathe, you can’t think if you don’t breathe.

“Well she looks like the girl in the picture, it’s the right car.”

More silence, more garbled nonsense that must have been coming from a phone. She managed a shaky breath.

One. Two.

As much as her shoulders screamed to move, to do anything to elevate this twisting pain, she didn’t dare. Even her shaky breaths felt like they could give her away. If he didn’t know she was awake, it was the only advantage she had.

Leia stayed as still as she could, but used any bump in the road she could, twitching her body to mimic the movement of the car so that the pain of the uncomfortable position lessened, ever-so-slightly. It hardly helped, but every bit of pain she could soothe gave her that much more room to breathe and think.

There was one thing she knew, at least. This was not a real arrest.

Her first thought went to ransom money. It was a fear Padme had unintentionally instilled in her through years of careful training and hypothetical escape plans. The constant vigilance, the classes at the range, the men in sleek suits and dark cars who would occasionally follow her around. All of this was made to make her feel safer, but in reality it just made the target on her back feel bigger. As the daughter of a high-ranking senator, she was a prime candidate for extorting money from the government.

But girl in the picture didn’t make sense with that theory. If it was ransom money, he would have known he got the right person by the Skywalker name on her driver’s license. Plus, her mother was dead, and she had been for years. There was no reason to ransom a passed senator’s daughter, especially considering where her father resided these days.

“I know.” His voice came again, startling her out of her theorizing. “On the way.”

She heard a thump, maybe him tossing his phone on the seat next to him, and then silence.

She wished she had a clue where they were going. She wished she wasn’t in this situation. She wished that this was all one of her horrendous nightmares and Chewie would nudge her awake any second.

The car hit a pothole, sending a jolt of pain up Leia’s right leg that reminded her this was not in fact a bad dream. She bit her lip to keep from yelping in pain.

Think she reminded herself. It’s what you’re good at, use your head.

Where they were going, right. Had she been awake, she could have tracked the movement of the car and maybe had an idea. But, with being knocked out, they could have been driving for hours or minutes. Any turn he made now was negligible, they could be in a different state already.

If not ransom, then what —

Like a hot stone, the realization dropped in her stomach and burned everything in its path. Nothing existed except the name. The name that had been whispered in fear or only merely alluded to in the past several weeks. The name that should have been the first thing she thought of. The name she’d cursed a million times over, almost as much as Anakin’s.

Jabba.

May 31st, 11:00pm

Luke had never seen Han like this. His usually carefree, go-where-the-wind-takes-him friend had changed over the two years. He seemed more serious, more grounded, more interested in his sister, much to his initial dismay. Han had grown up, for lack of a better term. The Luke he was when they’d met might have been saddened to see it, but the Luke he is now is awed by it, proud even.

But, even with all of that change, he’d never seen him like this. Panicked and frozen in fear.

There was nothing else to do but drive home after they found the twin’s car. They debated for a long time whether or not to leave it there, if they ever did decide to call the cops. Han seemed thoroughly convinced it would only make things worse, specifically for Leia, and he wasn’t willing to take that risk.

In the end they decided Luke would take the car home.

He drove behind Han’s truck, trying not to pay attention to the fact it still smelled like coffee from where Leia’s work apron sat crumbled in the passenger seat. He tried to also ignore her phone, and how he had to pull the seat way back in order to fit inside. Things that usually annoyed him about having to share a car with his sister now instilled a deep longing and fear.

Where was she?

Luke didn’t think reality had fully hit him yet. In his head, he’d talked to Leia only hours ago. This would all be over when he woke up to her banging around in the kitchen at an ungodly hour, or to her yelling for him when he was about to oversleep for his summer classes. He was driving home and she’d be there, either there or upstairs, like she always was.

She had to be.

He’d managed to make the drive home with a level head, somewhat. Han ran at least 3 red lights, so Luke lost him in the traffic. The truck was parked outside when he finally pulled in.

He’d almost managed to convince himself that none of it had happened until he walked into their apartment.

Han was sitting on the couch, head in his hands, and there was shattered glass, flower petals, and spilled water covering the coffee table in front of him. Luke’s heart pounded uncomfortably in his chest as he swung the door close, letting the slam announce his entrance.

He gazed at the door to Leia’s room, shut tightly, as it always was when she was out. His mouth dried and a burn built in the back of his throat.

Where was she?

Summoning the little courage he seemed to have left, Luke walked into the living room. Han didn’t seem to notice, his fingers now curled and digging into his scalp. He scanned the mess and saw it came from the vase of flowers Leia had brought home a week ago. They were already fading, but now they looked… sad. Wilted petals sitting amongst glass and water.

There was a metaphor in there, if he reached for it.

Instead he reached out a hand on Han’s shoulder, and his friend finally looked up.

Luke always considered himself fairly good at reading people. Not Leia-good, but well enough to dance around tricky situations. He knew how to read Han, too. He knew the instant Han’s annoying flirting with his sister had turned into something more, it was practically written on his face in giant, blaring, neon letters.

How Leia didn’t notice was beyond him.

But, Han’s face now might as well have been a foreign language. His jaw was set like granite but his hands had a slight tremble. His eyes were cold, blank, resigned. Without so much as a word, he uncrumpled something from his hands and handed it to Luke.

“What is this?”

“It was on my door when we got home.” He said in a voice that sounded a million miles away.

It was a white index card. The front simply said Solo. The back had scrawled writing that was hardly decipherable, now with blots of ink where the water had soaked in and spread it. He barely made it out.

Your week expired.

It wasn’t signed, nor did it have mention of Leia, it didn’t need to. It was clear what happened.

“You’re not going to give that son of a bitch the money, right?” Luke asked before he could think better of it, looking up from the card. “I mean, we’re going to go in and get her, right?”

Han chuckled, to his surprise. A dark, mirthless chuckle that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“Your fuckin’ hero complexes.” He muttered, though there was no amusement in his tone. Abruptly, Han stood, making the pieces of glass clatter on the table. Luke stepped back, but Han whirled on him anyway. “You and your damn sister, no one listens to me.” He clasped his hands together in front of him, as if to reel himself in. “These are not people you swindle Luke. Believe me, I’ve tried.” He put a hand on his chest for emphasis. “Whatever they’re doing to her, it isn’t pretty. I’m only interested in whatever it takes to get her outta there as soon as fuckin’ possible.”

He was pacing now, which Luke took as a good sign. Han was constantly in movement. He spent most of his free time tinkering away at his truck or other various items in the apartments. His hands were never idle. Even at dinners he’d roll up little pieces of the paper napkin or be drumming on the tablecloth. A Han in motion was a Han that was thinking, planning, scheming. It wasn’t a Han that was falling apart at the seams, and Luke needed the first Han to get Leia back.

“Well, let’s do it.” Luke said, hoping if he sounded confident enough, it might transfer over to the other man. “You know them, you know where they might have taken her. We can go in there, I know how to shoot. If we take them by surprise —”

“No.” Han’s voice was firm, but he was still pacing. Luke’s face screwed up in a mixture of anger and confusion.

“We could do it! You don’t know if they’ll give her back after you pay. They could keep holding onto her and demanding more.” He was scaring himself, too, but his mouth was moving faster than his brain. “If we go in, maybe we can get some others, we can —”

“I said no, kid.” Han said, his voice sounding defeated for the first time in the night. He was rubbing his temple with his thumb. “I can’t let you go in there with me, t’s not right. You’ll get hurt.”

“Not right?” Luke protested. “She’s my sister—”

“And I’m the reason she’s there!” Han interrupted, raising his voice at Luke like he’d never done before. Luke stared at him, slightly gobsmacked, but his face still scrunched in determination.

Han held his stare, but eventually sighed, dropping his gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry.” He muttered. He looked at the coffee table, where the water was now steadily dripping on the rug. The rug Leia loved, the one she always yelled at them about when they spilled something. Han must have noticed, too, considering the way he deflated. He tried to swallow the rock that had lodged itself in his throat, but it didn’t budge.

“Let me help.” Luke said, pleading. “I can’t just sit here while you try and find money that doesn’t exist. Let me help.” His voice caught, the crack seeming to emanate from his chest. His throat burned and he felt his eyes start to water.

Feelings he thought he’d let go of in the months of healing after his hospital visit flooded his system. He was suddenly drowning in it, the despair, the longing, the ache to know the people he loved were alright.

His sister.

She wasn’t just upstairs, or at work, or coming home late. She was gone, taken by enemies of their friend. Used as bait and a bargaining chip. In the hands of people far more evil than even their father, people fueled by money and bloodlust. People who would hurt her to get what they want.

He didn’t realize it, but he must have said those last things out loud. Han was staring at him, crestfallen, his mouth hung slightly open.

In the silence afterward, where Luke was realizing what he’d said and Han was processing it, Han seemed to shake off whatever stupor he was in.

“Fine.” He looked off towards Leia’s room, something longing and yet determined in his eyes. “We go get her.”

Chapter Text

June 1st, 1:00am

The small cabin was musty, covered in cobwebs, and had clearly not seen occupants in a very long time.

Even the chair Leia was strapped to had a fine coating of dust on it, every time she struggled, a new cloud of it burst forth from somewhere and stuffed itself up her nose. Every time she sneezed her entire face throbbed, especially the newest bruise that was beginning to bloom across her left cheek. At least she’d have matching sides now.

She’d been left alone, somewhat, for now.

The “cop” who had taken her, whom she could only identify by the letters and numbers stitched on his shirt, FN-2199, was pacing on the porch of the dilapidated structure. By the smell that filtered in through the open window, he was chain smoking cigarettes.

The smell almost made her cry. For the longest time she associated that smell meant Han. How his t-shirts would soak up the smoke and leave it lingering, how she could taste it on his mouth when they kissed. At first it bothered her, but it had begun to enmesh itself in her picture of Han in her head. The smell clouded her senses and had her reeling back, pretending it was just Han outside, smoking before he came in.

But it wasn’t. If it was, she wouldn’t be handcuffed to a sturdy wooden chair. She wouldn’t have blood still trickling down her face and an ankle swollen up like a balloon. If it was Han outside, all she’d had to do was yell, and she’d be out of here in a heartbeat.

Her throat was raw, she wished desperately for even a sip of water. When FN-2199 had stopped the car and came around to retrieve her, she hoped to catch him off guard with a well-placed kick to the face. She’d made contact, but her luck had run out there. The man dragged her out by her feet, which was no easy task. Leia was kicking and screaming like a banshee, hoping that anyone within a mile could hear her, do something.

It only succeeded in making the drag from the car into the cabin much more laborious, the man eventually had enough of the screaming and punched his fist into her cheek. Blood had bloomed in her mouth, and she was shocked enough that he managed to cram her through the doorway.

Getting her on the chair was another battle. She did everything in her power to keep from bowing to his expectation, but a boot in her gut knocked the air out of her. He seized on her weakness while she struggled for breath, and secured her to the chair.

When he thought she was anchored, he went to stand up, and she managed enough breath to lift her leg in a well placed kick, hitting him straight in the groin. The man folded with a groan, and she tried to kick at his head. He dodged, seeing her move coming, and instead caught her leg. She struggled, kicking, but he gripped the right foot, too. Pain surged up her entire leg, she may have screamed. He kept squeezing, her eyes screwed shut as she tried to find her breath amongst the torture.

When the pain finally eased, her feet were secured to the chair legs too.

Once he ensured her snares, he left to go outside, having several hushed phone calls and to begin his chain smoking. She screamed, at first. Yelled until her throat was raw and she was coughing up dust and blood and who knows what else.

It didn’t matter, they were clearly in the middle of no where.

She tried everything imaginable to get herself out. With every movement, her head and ankle throbbed, but none of it made a difference. She could probably break the chair, if she had the right leverage, but sitting on it like this kept her trapped.

She slumped with physical defeat. Physical defeat, because she could at least do something mentally. Leia had already taken inventory of everything around her. The cabin was one room, with a small door in the back that she assumed belonged to a bathroom. FN-2199 had placed the chair so she was facing the front door, which was old and looked like it was barely hanging on the hinges.

Beside her was a wooden table, out of reach even if she could use her hands. There was nothing on it but an ashtray, also covered in dust. She could use that, if she ever got use of her hands again.

If she craned her neck, she could see a musty old bed in the back corner, next to a sink and an ancient fridge that was somehow humming away with electricity. There were only a couple of overhead lights, two to be exact, and a lamp near the bed. There was nothing else in the cabin she could see besides some trash on the floor and dead leaves.

Nothing that could be used as a weapon. She could use the ashtray in a moment of surprise, or break a chair leg off to use the jagged edge. She could even maybe break the lamp, or a lightbulb, broken ceramic or glass could work in a pinch. But she would have to get to them first, which meant getting out of these restraints.

Her wrists ached from the constant pull on them. FN-2199 had been out there for ages, or so it felt. There wasn’t even a measly clock in here to help her tell time, and the sun was well past set.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, gravel crunched outside. Something squeaked and there were footsteps.

Her heart jumped into her throat, and her body started to once again try to find a way to get out, even if her head knew better. Her legs twitched and her wrists ached with her movement. Any scream she had left stuck in her throat as a boulder of fear had lodged itself there.

She didn’t have to wait long. Muffled voices got closer, and the one set of footsteps turned into many. She heard three, no, four distinct voices. Their footsteps echoed on the rotting porch and then the door swung violently open.

Four men walked into the room, and her veins filled with ice. She immediately recognized two of them. Bossk and Crumb. Her suspicions were confirmed. Both men looked at her with amusement, arms crossed across their chests. FN-2199 trudged in behind everyone else, obviously at the bottom of the chain of command here.

But, by far the biggest man in the room, and the one the other three were looking at, watched Leia like she was something to eat. Her skin crawled, she felt bile rise in her throat.

She didn’t need to be told. He must have been Jabba.

Jabba didn’t look like what she pictured, a suave, trim, professional crime lord. Instead the man that stood before her was enormous, his head almost touched the ceiling, and he was at least as wide as two of the other men. He wore green trousers and a light yellow button down that had to be tailor made. It was unbuttoned enough to show a large patch of dark chest hair.

All four men were carrying guns.

Leia held her chin up, refusing to show her terror. Her eyes blazed with a fury she usually kept buried deep. She let it rise to the surface, she let the Anakin in her show. She would not be broken by these men.

Jabba chuckled, a dark, ugly sound that more closely resembled a croak.

“Fredrick didn’t tell me our little catch was a Skywalker.”

May 31st, 11:30pm

Han had Lando by the collar, which seemed like it should have concerned Lando more than it did.

“The fuck do you mean you’re not gonna help?” Han seethed in his face.

Lando had his hands up in surrender, but didn’t appear scared of Han’s charade, which only seemed to make him angrier.

“Like I just told you. I can’t.” Lando said through clenched teeth.

Han looked conflicted for a moment, like whether or not he was actually going to start a fight with his friend. After weighing his options, he let Lando go, but not without a shove into the wall behind him.

“What kinda bullshit excuse do you have now?”

“You know why I can’t get involved.” He said with steel, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt from Han’s fingers.

“And what’s that?” Luke piped up from behind them. Lando cast a steely look his way.

“I used to run in those circles.” He explained, after Han’s stare bored holes into his head. “That’s how Han and I met. We were both running scams, making deals.” He was still fussing with the collar of his shirt. “I got out of it, cleanly. And I need to keep it that way.” He pointedly looked at Han, who still hadn’t unclenched his fists, as if he was still debating if a swift punch to the gut would change Lando’s mind. “If I go back in now, I’ll never get out.”

“So you’ll let her rot to save your own skin.” Han said.

Lando shook his head. “I wish I could help. I can give you my contacts, I can check my web, see who knows what, but I can’t go in there with you.”

“Fine.” Han fumed, turning on his heel for the door. “We’ll do it without you.” Without so much as a look in Luke’s direction, Han tore out of the apartment, letting the door slam loudly.

In the silence that followed, Lando and Luke blinked at each other.

“I am sorry, Luke. I want to help your sister.” He said quietly.

Luke bit back his frustration. Of course it wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, but he wasn’t going to completely rebuff his help, like Han seemed to.

“I understand.” He forced himself to say, even though he only partly meant it. “I get it. I wouldn’t want to drag myself back into something I escaped from, too.” He tried to put himself in his shoes, as difficult as that was right now. If someone had asked him to walk back to his childhood home, knowing Anakin was inside, would he do it?

For Leia, for Leia he would.

“Can you check with your contacts?” Luke asked, the words feeling funny on his tongue. “Can you see what you can find out, at least?” His tone was more pleading than he would have liked, but it seemed to soften Lando, just a little bit.

“I’ll check, I promise. Anything I can do from the outside. I swear it.”

Luke nodded, it was as good as he was going to get.

“Thanks, Lando.”

“Please don’t.” He cringed. “Don’t thank me.” He looked uncomfortable, which was not a common stance for Lando. “I really wish I could help more.”

“I get it.” Luke repeated again, even if a part of him was raging inside.

Luke’s name was called from outside. He pressed his lips together.

“Thank you anyways.”

He turned to go follow Han, but when his hand hit the doorknob, Lando spoke again.

“She’s strong. If anyone can get out of Jabba’s grasp, it’s Leia. Don’t discount her own survivability.”

Luke looked back, locking eyes with the other man, letting out a deep sigh.

“She’s stronger than all of us.”

Chapter Text

TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: Forced Drugging

June 1st, 1:00am

Leia was familiar with fear.

She’d been in a dance with it for so long, stewed in its perpetual state for years. She knew her own fear intrinsically, inside out. She knew what it felt like for her heart to want to beat out of its chest, for the hairs to stick up on her arms, for her throat to dry and that cold, dead feeling that stretches across her chest like a yawning cavity.

Fear was an old friend. Fear was something that nearly felt like home to her. Or what home was for so long.

Now, home felt like sun-faded t-shirts. Light beer and cigarette smoke. Home felt like sharing a joint on a cold night or sliding into scratchy flannel sheets. Home was now a place where she didn’t feel fear constantly. She didn’t have to lock and barricade the door. She didn’t have to jump at every footstep or sound. She’d grown so used to this new home, this lack of fear, that she almost didn’t recognize it.

That was probably why when fear came again, it struck like a physical blow. It hit her head first, clearing every thought she had into static nothing-ness. The world sounded like it was underwater and the only thing she could hear was the thump of her own heart in her ears. Her throat dried with a cracking sensation, and she felt that cold feeling of dread sit on her chest like a physical weight, stealing her breath.

It had caught her off guard, how hard the fear had crashed into her. It was never a feeling one could get used to, but she’d found solace in it once. She’d twisted it to her advantage, using her fear of her father to build systems and safeguards. She developed tactics and escape plans to keep her and Luke safe. Fear had become a weapon, it had become her weapon.

So why now did it make her feel so weak?

Jabba chuckled, which made a cold beat of sweat run down Leia’s back. She gripped the wooden poles that made up the back of the chair, looking for anything to ground her. He advanced a step closer, and her entire body shrank back in response.

A disgusting smile crawled across his face. He said something to Bossk in a language she didn’t understand. Bossk pulled out a pocket-sized small, zipped black case, and handed it to Jabba. He toyed with it in his hands for a moment, letting the trepidation in Leia build.

“You know, Skywalker.” Jabba continued, and Leia picked up on his accent now that she’d heard him speak in another language. “You were a prize when you were just Solo’s. But now, you’re a prize of a different kind.” His voice purred on the word prize, which made her want to wretch.

“Should have known it was you, Jabba.” Leia said his name like an expletive. “I thought I could smell your foul stench when you pulled up.” She kept her chin high, and face only showing a hint of amusement.

Jabba grimaced, taking another step closer to her, unzipping the black case as he did so. The light caught on something reflective nested inside. He ran his fingers over the contents almost sensually, contemplating for a long moment on what he would choose. He seemed to decide, plucking something out of the velvet lining with his pointer finger and thumb.

Leia’s heart dropped when she saw it was a syringe.

Her face must have betrayed her, because Jabba’s self-satisfied smile turned into a wretched grin, distorting the features of his face into something monstrous.

They were going to drug her.

They were going to drug her and then do what to her? She suddenly couldn’t breathe. Oxygen abandoned her, coming out of her lungs in a final whoosh and refusing to inflate.

Jabba said something else, probably something meant to scare her, but her ears were stuffed with cotton. She had tunnel vision, only looking at the syringe, at the needle he was expertly screwing onto it. At the unidentifiable, viscous liquid that was inside.

Jabba cleared the few feet left between them, holding the syringe in one hand and flicking it with the other, letting some of that liquid spurt out of the top when he pressed the plunger.

Her lungs finally opened, allowing oxygen again so her brain could use it to produce more terror.

Greasy hands reached for her face, she tugged her chin away at the last second.

Those hands then roughly grabbed her face, forcing her to look up.

Jabba looked at her like a piece of meat. As much as it filled her with horror, an ember of anger had started to burn since he said the name Skywalker with such reproach. It burned through the fear like it was tinder, incinerating it and leaving fury in its wake. White-hot, bubbling fury that was quickly melting the ice in her veins, melting her indecision away.

Even with a dry throat, she managed to land a wad of saliva right in the center of Jabba’s forehead.

He roared, and she heard the crack of the slap before she felt it. Her face whipped to the side, and the blood in her mouth from before returned, coating tongue and throat. Pain exploded across her cheek, mingling with the dull, throbbing pain of the cut on her forehead. She gasped, several heavy breaths, but at least her lungs were fully inflating. Oxygen meant brainpower, meant she could still try and think her way out of this.

Slowly, she turned her face back to Jabba, who had taken a step back and was using his free hand to wipe his face in disgust.

Something evil in her gut twisted, and she smiled. A low, soulless chuckle left her mouth. She could feel the blood on her teeth, and she hoped it looked as crazy as it felt.

Her chuckles eventually turned to coughs, and she spit blood onto the floor.

“Good fucking luck.” She managed in between heaving breaths, attempting to keep her chest upright as the little energy she had left started to dissipate.

Jabba glared at her. Bossk and Crumb had schooled their features into neutrality. But the cop, Frederick apparently, his face had completely drained of color. His mouth hung slightly open but nothing was coming out. The corners of her mouth twitched up.

Good. Let them think I’m insane. Let them think I’m not worth the effort.

Jabba barked something again in that unknown language, and Frederick jumped. He stumbled to Jabba’s side, shakily taking the syringe from his hands. The object looked silly in his trembling fingers, like he was a kid playing doctor. He couldn’t keep the look of disdain off his face either, looking between the tip of the needle and Leia.

Jabba yelled another incomprehensible demand. Frederick winced.

She tried to spit again, but nothing was coming out, not even a measly spot of blood. The fury that had fueled her just a moment ago started rapidly descending back into fright as the needle got closer in his shaking hands.

As he approached, Leia thrashed. She whipped her head from side to side, even rocking the chair back and forth with her momentum. Something garbled came out of her mouth, half a warning to stay away and half a yell all caught in a dry, aching throat.

Jabba yelled something else, and she saw Crumb move towards her as well. She thrashed harder, knocking into Frederick’s knees to the point he almost dropped the syringe, fumbling for it in the air.

She wouldn’t be lucky enough that he stuck himself. Her luck had apparently, and thoroughly, run out.

Crumb approached, not buffaloed by her erratic movement. He gripped her face painfully with one hand, wrenching it to the side and holding her shoulder down with another. She screamed, hearing her voice crack and feeling blood sputter out. She tried to crane her head so she could bite Crumb’s hand, but he saw it coming and moved his fingers out of the way, wrenching her head to the side harder.

She saw stars, she cried out in pain. But it was nothing compared to the sharp stick in the side of her neck, and then the burning feeling of something being pushed under her skin.

Crumbs hands held her still even as her screams turned into muffled sobs, feeling her control of herself slipping.

Something else was said in that language, but she was already drooping forward in the chair. She caught only three words she knew before darkness swallowed her up, again.

“Get Boba Fett.”

June 1st, 11:00am

Leia woke up with the worst headache she’d ever had in her life. Groaning, she tried to bring a hand to her temple to try and rub the agony away, but found they were still attached to the god-forsaken chair.

She tried to open her eyes, but the blinding light of the morning seared her vision. She grimaced, the shift of her head causing a different kind of nauseated pain, the kind that came from head injuries.

Slowly. Over the course of several minutes, Leia managed to blink her eyes open.

Nearly as bad as her head, her body ached. Her shoulders and wrists felt flayed, and her ankle had swollen to the point that it pushed against whatever restraint was on it. She did a quick mental scan, trying to account for all the injuries and match them to memories.

Head. That was a lot. Being slammed into the frame of the car, her head hitting the concrete, being pulled by her hair, the punch by Frederick, the slap by Jabba.

Her shoulders. Wrenched back in place for hours, the lingering tenderness on her neck from the needle.

Her wrists. Shackled together too tightly, causing most of the strain in her shoulders.

Her chest. She had a feeling that was more of a mental ache than a physical one, but her chest hurt from the fear. She remembered that it used to get this way when things at home were particularly bad, like it was sore almost.

Her ankle. Probably what she was most concerned about. When she tried to test it in the car, it didn’t feel like it could hold weight. If that asshole had broken it with his flashlight, she was beyond fucked. That made escape feel even less feasible.

She didn’t find an ache she couldn’t place a memory to, thankfully. She also found that all of her clothes had remained intact, and seemed to have remained on her body. The smallest hint of relief settled in her spine, but was quickly evaporated when a throat cleared behind her.

Out of instinct, she attempted to whip her head around to face her captor. The jostle made her vision swim and nausea bubble up in her throat. She groaned again, dropping her chin to her chest.

Whatever hair wasn’t stuck to her face with dried blood cascaded down around her, creating a false barrier she could hide behind in her moment of dizziness. She shut her eyes, concentrating on keeping the wave of vomit from coming up.

Vaguely, she heard shuffling around her, and vaguely she knew she should be reacting somehow. But she couldn’t get her body to respond to her. Every muscle felt limp and exhausted. She kept her head down.

“You’re in deep shit,” came a voice, likely belonging to whoever was doing the shuffling.

She lifted her head, a vengeful response got caught on her tongue as recognition dawned.

And then she remembered those last words before darkness. Get Boba Fett.

For it was Robert that was standing in front of her, looking down disapprovingly with his arms crossed. She managed to muster up the energy to sneer, her head lolling to one side. “Robert.” She tried, but it was really more of a croak than a name.

Her throat. She mentally added it to her aching list, remembering the screaming and the cracking she’d felt the night before.

He cringed when she spoke, eyes shutting tight. Robert Fett had always been a man of few words, but Leia found his silence now to be the most egregious.

“You bastard.” She flared, even though speaking felt like gargling rocks. “My family employed you for years —” She had to stop due to a coughing fit, once again spitting blood into the corner.

Robert seemed content to ignore her insults, moving out of sight swiftly. She tried to crane her neck to follow, but winced again at the effort. He reappeared shortly with a bottle of water.

Her mouth fell open in raw awe, Just seeing the bottle made her tongue feel numb. She wasn’t proud of the things she would have done in that moment to get that water.

Luckily Robert didn’t seize on the opportunity, instead awkwardly holding it to her lips as she drained half of it in greedy gulps, coughing and sputtering as he pulled it away.

Her chest heaved trying to get her breath back, but at least her throat didn’t feel as raw.

“Robert.” She tried again, his name coming out slightly clearer this time. “Robert, you know me.” She pleaded. “You worked with us for years. What are you —” She stopped, ultimately deciding she didn’t care what he was doing here, how he ended up working for Jabba. “You have to help me.”

He looked at her, then gave her an impersonal shrug. “I’m not Robert anymore. I won’t help you.”

June 1st, 9:00am

Luke busted into Han’s apartment. He was breathing hard, having raced up the stairs as soon as he got the message.

He didn’t know how Han got whatever information this was, whether it had come from Lando’s contacts or his own sleuthing. It wasn’t much, but it was something, enough of something to give Luke that fleeting feeling of hope.

The pair had stayed up half the night trying to work out a plan. It didn’t do a lot of good to try and plan something if they still didn’t know where she was. Luke had even convinced him to call the same jail Leia had just bailed him out of. They asked if she was there, or if anyone matching her description was brought in.

Of course, they were told no. No traffic arrests had been made on that stretch of road that night, according to their records.

Han’s table was covered in papers listing every single address he’d ever gone to for one of Jabba’s jobs. It was an extensive list, it would take them weeks to track down every single one. They tried to break them down into more likely and less likely categories, but the street names kept swimming in front of Luke’s eyes, all combining together into meaningless nonsense.

Luke eventually ended up falling asleep on the table around 6am, so Han demanded that he go downstairs and try and sleep. It would do them no good to both be too sleep deprived to do anything in the morning.

But when Luke rounded the corner into the apartment, he spied Han still at the table, clearly having never left from the night before. His phone was in one hand, and he was holding his head in the other.

“Han?” He called, reclaiming his seat at the table from the night before. Han looked at him through his fingers.

“She’s with Boba Fett.” He said, muffled by his hand.

Luke’s heart immediately tugged in two directions. At first, his hope blossomed. They had information, they knew more than they did yesterday, something concrete. Wherever it came from, he didn’t care as long as it was true. And he knew Boba Fett, or Robert, as the twins had known him. That had to help Leia somehow, right?

Han’s reaction, however, tugged the other side of his heart closer to despair. If she was with Robert, that meant Robert was working for Jabba, and had no incentive to help Leia at all. If anything, he was likely inclined to keep her there.

He must have looked as dumbfounded as he felt, because Han was studying him with bloodshot eyes.

“That’s good, right?” Luke managed, attempting to convince the both of them. Han sighed, running the hand on his face through his hair, letting his phone drop onto the table.

“Boba Fett has a vendetta against me, personally.” He explained, though the usual humor Han had when telling his stories was missing. “He could take it out on her.”

Luke shook his head before he could fully think through what he wanted to say. “He won’t. They —” He paused, not sure how to say this delicately. “They were close, for a while.” Han’s eyes narrowed. “He wouldn’t hurt her.”

Han swallowed, then leaned back in his chair. He brought one finger up and traced along his jawbone, along a small, raised scar there. “That was the second time Boba Fett tried to kill me.” He said, letting his hand fall back to the table.

“Second time?” Luke asked, still slightly dumbfounded.

“First and third didn’t leave a mark. Bastard has horrible aim.” Luke could almost imagine the ghost of a smile that would normally be on his friend’s face, but now it was just cold neutrality. The slim sliver of hope he’d been feeling felt like it was falling through his fingers.

Suddenly, in his moment of despair, something struck Luke like a baseball bat to the head. paused, mouth slightly agape as he tried to understand the pieces that were fitting together before his eyes.

“Wait.” He said, holding his hands up and staring at the center of the table with all the scribbled on paper. “They wouldn’t take her to any of these places, they know you’ve been there, that you would check there.” His mind reeled, trying to make sense of this new revelation.

“Right.” Han said cautiously, eyeing Luke’s new excitement warily.

“I think I know where she is.”

Chapter Text

June 1st, 6:00pm

The funny thing about living in constant fear, you get used to it.

Like anything in life, fear is something the body can remember, can cope with, can get used to. It is after all, just a state of being. Like being happy, sad, tense… anything. It just feels more powerful because it involves the animal part of the brain, the fight-or-flight response. Fear feels all-consuming, until it doesn’t.

Leia was starting to think that her body was becoming far too used to fear. It just didn’t know what to do with it anymore.

By her count, she’d been here for 20 hours or so. The body could only handle being in such abject fear for so long. Since she woke up, there was nothing there to re-instill the agony of helplessness with Jabba and most of his cronies gone. Her terror had turned into wariness, which had turned into boredom, which had turned into scheming.

She could catalog everything that still hurt. But what was the use? Acknowledging it just brought the pain to the forefront of her mind, and she needed that for other things. The good thing about being used to fear? She knew how to work around it.

Leia had deduced that there was no getting out of here without using someone else. No one would let her out, that much was clear. Jabba’s hold was too strong.

But she could still use the people around him. She’d attempted to try and appeal to Robert — Boba Fett, whatever he went by now, by bringing up their past. Not only did it not work, but it might have made things worse. He’d stopped responding to her after a while, leaving her to stew in her own thoughts.

It was clear many things had happened to him in the last several years, things that Leia wasn’t sure she wanted to know about. But, they were things she might have to mine for if she had any hope of manipulating him into helping her.

She was allowed up, once, only to pee. No one wanted her sitting in her own waste when Jabba returned... Whenever that would be. Robert had taken her to the small bathroom in the back, but pressed a gun to her temple the entire time and kept her arms bound, though did let her move them to the front of her body.

Her past self would have been mortified that she had to squat in front of Robert, but she couldn’t bring her current self to care. Embarrassment was the absolute least of her concerns. She couldn’t give a flying fuck what Robert thought now. The only thing that mattered was what she saw in the bathroom. It was small, and frankly a shot in the dark, but it just might work.

When she’d finished, he put her right back in that same awful chair. He’d wrenched her arms behind her and pushed the cuffs even tighter, weaving the chain between the poles. He stomped back to his seat, content to ignore her for the rest of the evening.

And she let him, for a while at least.

Leia shifted her weight, again, trying to ease the tension from the muscles in her ass that had gone completely numb, the static feeling reaching down all the way to her toes. The chair creaked and Leia’s wrists bit into the metal of the cuffs.

She hissed through her teeth. What had previously been painful had turned damn near unbearable. She’d been at it for a few hours, subtly trying to dig her wrists into the metal as much as she could. She’d felt it when the skin split, but didn’t stop until she could feel a drop of wet blood into her palms. It was agony, at first. But just like fear, a body could get used to pain.

And unfortunately, she had practice in that area.

Robert looked up from his vigil in a matching wooden chair, sitting across the room from her. His eyes had been glued to his phone screen, but she hadn’t noticed him interacting with it at all. Merely watching, and waiting. For Jabba, most likely.

She tried to pretend that she didn’t notice his attention. Purposefully, she shifted her weight again, sending the hard edge of the metal straight back into the wound.

She cursed this time, flipping her head back dramatically enough to make her vision dance. She felt the blood that was slowly dripping into her palm start to cascade to the floor.

Drip. Drip.

“What?” Robert said through his teeth, clearly annoyed.

Now was her chance. “It’s the cuffs —” She started to complain, but saw that Robert had put his head back down with a frustrated roll of his eyes. She pressed her lips together, determined not to lose his empathy again. “Have some humanity, Robert.” Shaming someone didn’t usually help, she’d found, but none of her other tactics had worked. “You don’t even have to take them off, just some gauze, something to keep it from re-opening—”

“Oh my god.” He said with an exaggerated emphasis on the last word. He bent at the waist to rub his eyes. Leia tried to school her features into neutrality. “If I give it to you, will you shut up?”

A small intake of breath, to make it seem like she was surprised. “You would do that?”

He grumbled something that she didn’t catch, but did push himself off the chair. She heard him walk around behind her, and felt his breath on the back of her neck when he bent down to inspect her hands.

He cursed, and Leia hid her smile behind a curtain of hair.

“What?” She asked, feigning innocence.

“Stay fuckin’ still,” was his only response. She heard him step away and the creaky hinges swing open on the bathroom door. A cabinet door swung open and closed, and she heard his padding footsteps reapproach. There was more shuffling, the sound of ripping paper, and the top being taken off a bottle. She tried to crane her head around to look, but couldn’t see past the top of the chair.

He gave no warning when he put the cotton ball full of rubbing alcohol on her ripped up wrists. She jerked them away with a loud curse, only causing the metal to further embed into the wound.

“Mother fucker.” She said through clenched teeth, hands balled into shaking fists. She wasn’t faking the reaction. “A heads up might have been nice.”

He ignored her, again, continuing his work of dabbing around the red and raw skin. Leia had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. Mercifully, she did feel something that felt like gauze get hastily tucked under the cuff. The sound of tape coming off a roll echoed across the cabin, and she felt his fingers pinch and wrap it around her wrists several times, protecting them from the biting edge.

She managed to keep her mouth shut while he did the same to the other, feeling the first part of her plan click into place.

Now for the second.

Leia waited for him to finish, flexing her wrists to test his handiwork.

Not bad. She felt the edges of the wound yell with the movement, but she was able to brace them against the side of the cuff with much less sensation. Robert had gotten up, moving to place the bottle of rubbing alcohol and the wimpy first-aid kit onto the table several feet away from her.

“You know.” She started, trying to flip her blood-matted hair out of her face. “I remember when you patched me up the first time.”

He scoffed, still messing with the supplies on the table.

“What?” She questioned. “You don’t?”

“I remember.” He grumbled, flicking the kit closed with a click.

“It was my first time shooting a rifle.” She continued, acting oblivious to his annoyance. “I had my face lined up to the scope, and someone forgot to mention how much kickback that thing had —”

“I said I remember.”

“As soon as I shot it, the butt hit me in the head. Split my face open only a couple inches away from my eye.”

“You weren’t holding it right.”

“Someone was supposed to be teaching me.”

“You learned, didn’t you?” He said with venom, turning on her with a whirl. His eyes blazed and she saw that her words were finally getting to him, after attempting to wear him down for hours. Good. She matched his gaze.

It was the first time he looked at her, really looked at her since this whole ordeal began. She hoped she looked as shitty as she felt, for once. If it tugged at his old, decaying, heartstrings.

Leia noticed then, too, she hadn’t really looked at him either. He was taller than she remembered, lankier too. His soft brown hair had been shorn down to a ¼ inch all over his head, which only made the dark brown of his eyes stand out more. The resemblance was almost uncanny. She took a deep breath.

“You look like him, you know.” This was the riskiest part of her hastily thought through plan, bringing up Jango. Leia used to pity Robert for his relationship with his father. He didn’t speak about it much, but she knew it was a sore subject for him. He’d lost him so young, younger than the twins were when they lost their mother.

Frankly, it was almost somewhat her mother’s fault that Jango was gone. She always wondered if that was why Padme had specifically chosen to employ Robert when they’d found him at the range, like it might reverse what happened.

Leia never knew much about Jango. His name was one that her parents had banned from the house, which of course, only made her more curious to know why. After some very light online sleuthing, she found out why.

Jango Fett had been working in a plot to have her mother, and some other high-profile senators, killed. This was when the twins were very young, so she didn’t recall any of this when it happened. Padme and those other senators were blockers for a bill Jango’s employers were desperate to pass.

Needless to say, their plot failed, and Jango was arrested during the attempt. He was killed in jail shortly afterwards under suspicious circumstances, though, everyone knew his employers had him taken out before he could be heard in court.

Padme never told the twins that the instructor she hired was the son of a man who’d tried to kill her. Leia had to find that out for herself.

His jaw tightened, and it sent a pang of longing through her heart. For the briefest of moments, for just a glimpse, he looked like Han. It nearly knocked the breath out of her.

Focus.

“This was his, you know.” He said in a far-away voice, surprising her with the out-of-character confession. “This was his safe house before he showed it to Jabba. Everything in here was his.” He looked around the dilapidated cabin, an unreadable emotion on his face.

She remembered, or at least, had suspected that was the case. Robert had told her about the safehouse his father used the one time they’d talked about Jango, after she confronted him with the information of the attempted murder. How it was the only thing his father had left him, and he couldn’t even use it. She didn’t understand it at the time, but it was clear to her now. It wasn’t his to use after Jango died, his employers had claimed it.

That employer must have been Jabba.

Leia weighed her next words carefully, this was the tricky part, the tightrope she needed to walk. “Followed in his footsteps, too.”

He didn’t respond to her comparison, still looking around the cabin half-dazed.

“Is that why you told them I was a Skywalker?”

His gaze landed back on her. “I didn’t tell them that.”

She knew that, already. She remembered the cop had pocketed her license.

“You didn’t?” She attempted to look confused.

He shook his head. “When I was told it was you…” He stopped, pressing his lips together before he said too much. “It didn’t matter. It doesn’t matter.” He corrected, briskly moving back to the chair across the room. “You don’t matter.”

There. That was what she needed.

“We don’t need them.” Han said through gritted teeth, pointedly ignoring the two men, well, boys who were standing behind Luke, looking mildly afraid. Luke sighed through his nose.

“We do need them.” He tried to explain again, patiently. “Artoo knows the area better than anyone else and Threepio has the equipment.”

“Threepio nearly got her killed at the lake. How the hell are we supposed to trust him —”

“I can hear you, you know.” Luke’s friend piped up, which only earned him a glare from Han.

“Good.” Han’s attention turned fully to him, and Luke saw the color drain slightly from Threepio’s face. “Then maybe you can drop the equipment and let the real adults handle it, yeah?”

Threepio’s face flushed. “It’s my car.”

“Luke.” Han’s frustration turned back on him. “Get your friend before I take care of him.”

“He’s coming.” Luke said, pushing some steel into his voice. “It’ll help Leia.”

That was the line he’d discovered had the most effect on Han. They’d come to stalemates multiple times trying to work out this plan, and it was the only thing to make Han budge when he was being stubborn.

“Fine.” He seethed, which seemed to be half of what he said these days. “The idiot can come.”

Luke tried not to look too pleased with himself. With Artoo and Threepio on board, this ridiculous plan may actually work, maybe. If the stars aligned, if everything went right.

Han sighed, running a hand through his hair, making it stick up in the back. “Can we go over it, one more time?”

Luke looked down at the table, where they’d printed off satellite images of the safehouse in the woods Leia had once told him about.

He didn’t realize the importance of the memory before. They were fifteen or so, and Leia had snuck back into the house well after 4am. Luke had been the only one awake, therefore the only one to see her cry when she crawled through the window. She’d snuck out to see their instructor at the range, who apparently hadn’t wanted to see her. They talked until the sun came up, mostly about Robert. Leia spilled the entirety of their relationship to Luke (or really, lack thereof, even Luke could tell her crush had been unrequited), which included Robert’s stories about his father.

He hadn’t remembered it, or really Robert, until after Leia had asked him about him several weeks ago. He didn’t remember the instructor all that well, but he absolutely remembered how he made his sister feel.

“One more time.” Luke repeated, holding up the map to the group.

This just might work.

Chapter Text

TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: Brief mention of potentially suicidal themes.

June 1st, 9:00pm

His fingers hovered over her face, and for a moment she felt fifteen again.

Leia could practically feel herself transform, shrink into the teenage girl she was. Full of naive curiosity and drawn to the man that now sat opposite of her.

But today, her heart beat fast for a different reason than it would. It wasn’t due to infatuation, it wasn’t due to their physical proximity.

Robert, or Boba, as she should now probably start calling him, folded up a paper towel into a neat square. He dumped enough rubbing alcohol on it to wet it, but not to make it drip. He held it up to her face, but seemed to pointedly be ignoring her gaze.

Without a word, he unceremoniously dabbed at the dried and caked blood on her forehead. She grimaced, the spot still tender even if it had stopped actively bleeding. Her reaction seemed to have no bearing on Boba’s movements, who continued to press on the area while he finished wiping the blood away.

Not to mention the fact that it stung like hell, too.

But the more she could get him to do this, to do these small things for her, the easier he would be to use.

And did she want to use him. In the silence of the last several hours, Leia had finally found her anger. It had come upon her suddenly, once her body had decided there was no more fear left to give. When she noticed it, the feeling overwhelmed her like a dam had been opened. It boiled and festered under her skin, begging to be released. To be directed at the man who just threw another bloody paper towel onto the table.

The man who knew her. Had known her. The man who should have been helping her, instead seemed content to mop the blood off her face but hand her directly over to the sharks in the water.

If he bothered to look in her eyes, he wouldn’t have seen a Leia he recognized anyway. Even with every fiber of her being keeping herself still and calm, she couldn’t keep the hatred and disgust out of her eyes.

Seemingly satisfied with his work, Boba threw another towel onto the pile. He opened his mouth, like he was about to say something, but the crunch of gravel outside stopped him in his tracks.

And stopped Leia’s heart in her chest, too.

She’d been wrong about her body being unable to produce anymore fear. It gripped her again, nearly as strong as before. Her neck burned, remembering the cold feeling as Jabba had pushed the plunger of that syringe. Her breath started to come in pants and every muscle she had was pulled tight as piano wire.

Boba cursed, flying out of his chair and tossing all the bloody paper towels out. He also got rid of the remnants of the canned pasta he’d spoonfed her an hour ago, dumping it all in the trash.

He’d barely turned around when the sound of slamming car doors echoed outside. He glared at Leia as he crossed the cabin, as if to scold her for his choices, and disappeared out the front door.

She heard him talking to someone, but it was in that language again. She’d racked her brain for hours trying to understand what it was. It was European, of some sort. Sounded like a Romance language, but she couldn’t recognize any of the words.

Somewhere in her midst of her fear and attempted eavesdropping, she noted that Boba had left the first aid kit on the table. And had forgotten to move her chair back away from the table.

The door opened with a slam, and Boba escorted Jabba and another man she didn’t recognize inside. The unknown man was older and dressed professionally, but the way his eyes slithered over her was nothing but repulsive. Jabba was dressed much nicer than the night before, in a set of matching pants and coat. He seemed to be watching the unknown man carefully.

“Fett, you’ve met Moff Tarkin.” Jabba inclined his head from Boba to the newcomer. Boba nodded, but offered no other sign of respect. Leia noticed that his hand was once again resting on the small gun he wore in a holster on his hip.

It didn’t matter, Tarkin’s eyes hadn’t left Leia since they’d walked in. They glued her to the spot with their intensity, the raw malevolence of his stare sent goosebumps all over her body. Boba seemed to be glaring, which Jabba had just noticed with a look of reproach.

“She’s marvelous.” Tarkin purred, which made Leia want to retch. “A Skywalker you said?” He released Leia from his gaze, glancing at Jabba for confirmation.

“The daughter.” Jabba shared, and Tarkin’s eyes slid back to her. The daughter. Padme’s daughter, the Skywalker daughter. The daughter of a dead senator. The daughter of an abuser. The daughter of a now impressioned abuser. Why did this man care? The Skywalker family had nothing left for anyone to take.

Realization dawned on her, glancing between Boba and Tarkin. If Jango was employed by Jabba to enact an assisination plot against her mother, who employed Jabba for the job? Who asked him to organize the hit? She didn’t peg the crime lord as someone who was concerned about the rule of law, and whether a bill would be passed. But he did seem to be the kind to want to profit off of someone else’s motivation.

“Palpatine will be pleased.” Tarkin drawled, and Leia felt her blood run cold. She didn’t know that name, but it vaguely rang bells in the back of her head. More importantly, it was becoming increasingly clear why Tarkin was here in the first place. “What’s the price?”

“I am not for sale.” She seethed, surprising Tarkin with her outburst. Jabba merely pulled his brows together. He should have gagged her. It didn’t matter, she would not be leaving with him. She’d find a way to make sure of it, under no circumstance would she be sold to a bidder. She’d die before she let that happen.

“For you?” Jabba hummed ignoring Leia. “I’ll give you what she cost me, $25,000.”

It was more than what Han owed him, $17,000 more. Her hands balled into fists behind her. She would not go easily, she would not go quietly. Tarkin smiled, which might have been the worst thing she’d ever seen.

“And how does she tolerate the…” He didn’t specify, but Jabba nodded anyway. He produced the black, zipped container from the day before, and Leia flinched back before she could stop herself.

“Received a dose, effective. No side effects.”

The syringes nested inside that black bag haunted her. The drug. Whatever Jabba had used on her last night. Her skin crawled, bile rose in the back of her throat. She was going to be sick.

She should have believed Han when he tried to warn her about what kind of people they were. Sick, twisted, evil people. People who would drug girls, who would sell them. People who would buy them.

“He will be pleased. I’ll bring the details back to him, expect a call in the morning.” Tarkin said, addressing Jabba, though still trailing his eyes across her body. She matched his gaze, though had nothing but malice written in hers. Words failed her, not that they’d help her in this moment anyway.

“Go to hell!” She managed to scream, the fear ebbing for just a moment. Jabba frowned at her, but Tarkin’s eyes sparkled with an evil she hadn’t seen in a long time.

Tarkin and Jabba moved towards the door, Boba’s eyes on Tarkin the entire time. When in the door frame, Jabba turned and glared at Boba, seeming to have some sort of silent conversation with him. He tossed the zipped black container to him, which Boba caught without breaking his stare. Jabba turned and slammed the door.

She could hear Jabba and Tarkin speaking in hushed tones outside, but it wasn’t in that language. She heard something about a small problem with a rogue asset that would be dealt with swiftly. Her gut immediately knew what that meant, staking her in place with another bolt of fear, this time for Han.

Boba stared at the door after they left for several moments, gripping the container of syringes with a fist. As if snapped out of a daze, he tossed the bag onto the table and stormed out the front door. Jabba and Tarkin must have already left, because there was no speaking. Just eventually the smell of cigarette smoking leeching inside.

If she was lucky, he wasn’t going to be relieved from his babysitting duty. If she was lucky, he’d eventually fall asleep on the ancient bed in the back of the cabin. Presumably, he’d been awake since at least the events of last night. She needed him exhausted. She needed him off his guard.

Knowing what awaited her in the morning, she had to expedite her plan. She had to get out of here tonight.

While he was outside, she enacted the third part of said plan. She started pushing her wrists side to side, the gauze and medical tape Boba had used insulated her raw wounds from most of the pain, but not all of it. She heard the chain between the cuffs scrape across the pole it was threaded between.

Her work began.

Luke had no idea how Threepio had access to all of this. Sure, he knew his parents were loaded, but this seemed excessive.

The Escapade had been wrapped so it was completely black and devoid of the shine of typical car paint. The back of it had been converted into a camping set up, but Artoo and Han managed to squeeze in between the bed and the tiny built-in kitchen set up.

Not to mention the weapons he’d stocked them with. It honestly made Luke a little sick to look at, he’d never seen so many guns in one place that wasn’t the range. Even Han seemed wary, only picking up the smaller hand-guns as opposed to the long hunting rifles Threepio had. Han made some sort of comment asking why he needed all of this stuff. Threepio shrugged, only offering the answer of ‘hunting’.

“Do you really think we’ll need all of this?” Luke turned in his seat to ask Han, who was currently inspecting and reloading one of the hand guns.

“Hope not.” he grumbled, but didn’t even offer Luke a glance.

Threepio was sitting in the driver’s seat, noticeably antsy. He kept glancing in the rearview mirror at Han and Artoo. Artoo, however, had always been prone to danger. It seemed to find him more than he found it, but he also was not good at running in the opposite direction when he saw it coming. If anything he ran straight for it, often without saying a word with a smile on his face.

He was currently lounging on Threepio’s camping-bed setup, one of the other pistols held loosely in his grip. He might have even been sleeping for god’s sake. Though, Luke couldn’t totally blame him. It was the middle of the night and they’d been here for hours. Ideally, he wondered if they all didn’t have a death wish, if this plan of his would actually work at all.

The plan, which involved storming the safehouse of a known crime lord. The head of the most lethal gang in the area. Luke was pretty sure they did in fact have a death wish.

They were parked off on an abandoned work access road about a mile away from where the satellite imagery had placed the safehouse. They’d been staked out here since nightfall, the car able to be cleverly hidden in the night air by its design.

They knew they had the right place when they heard another car amble down a different gravel road that wound right up to the house. About ten minutes later they heard it drive off. It didn’t confirm who was in the house. Even if Leia wasn’t here, it was clear Jabba was still using this location. They might be able to find someone who did know where she was.

And convince them to talk.

What they didn’t know was what was awaiting them inside. How many people were there? What weapons did they have? Was Leia even there?

They wouldn’t be able to answer any of that until they got inside. And by they, he meant Han, himself, and Artoo. Threepio was to wait in the car, partly due to their need for a quick exit, but mostly due to his flighty nature. But, as flighty and apprehensive as he was, Threepio was onboard immediately. He wanted to help them get Leia, he really just didn’t want to have to kill anyone himself.

Which Luke respected. He really didn’t want to have to kill anybody either, but Han’s gun was sitting in his hands. He’d given him a quick tutorial on it, but had a weird far-away look in his eye when he did it. Luke secretly hoped he wouldn’t have to use it.

Their plan was to sneak up on the house about 3am. It was likely that the guards would either be asleep or tired enough to give them an advantage. Their biggest issue would be creeping through the woods without being detected. If they had someone posted outside, stepping on a tree branch could be enough to give them away.

Luke’s thoughts were interrupted by a single blast that echoed through the woods.

All four heads looked up, and then at each other, as if confirming that everyone else did in fact hear that.

A single gunshot.

Just as his friend’s name left his mouth, Luke saw Han reach for the back door and jump out of it. He cursed, palming Han’s gun and getting out of the car himself.

Han was standing at the edge of the treeline, gun aimed in the direction they heard the shot. It took Luke only a few jogging steps to catch up with him.

“We go now.” Han said, not waiting for Luke to agree before he stepped into the woods.

Chapter Text

TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: Brief suicidal mention

June 2nd, 1:55am

Leia wasn’t that lucky.

Somehow, Boba managed to stay awake. He paced the cabin, he swept up the leaves, he anxiously bounced his leg in the chair opposite her. Anything to keep himself moving and away from the bed in the back of the cabin. Seeing Tarkin had made him anxious, on edge. Thankfully, it also meant that he was going outside every ten minutes for a cigarette.

Which gave Leia time to drag her chain across the wooden pole it was wound between. She couldn’t see her work, but she did feel the pole become increasingly loose in its fitting.

It was a slow, grueling task. Slow, because she mostly had to wait until Boba was outside. She’d timed it to take about 300 counts for him to finish a cigarette. It gave her five minutes of working time for every fifteen or twenty. Even with the padding, her wrists ached and burned whenever she had to stop. There was something wet and sticky in her palms, she tried not to think too hard about it, it just made starting again all the more painful.

Finally, after four hours, she could crane her fingers around and feel where she’d cut almost halfway through the pole. It was loose enough in its fitting that it could be turned in place. She slowly, agonizingly twisted it so the cut side faced out. It would only take a well timed hit to break the pole in half, which would at least free her hands from the chair. If she managed to complete the other part, it would give her enough time to figure out a solution to unbind her feet.

Her body trembled while she waited for Boba to return inside. Her hands were slick and sticky with blood, and everything ached. She’d begun to not be able to feel her toes, sitting in this same position for so long. Her ankle was something else she’d have to contend with. Her pitiful walk to the bathroom hours earlier let her know it wasn’t broken, but it could barely sustain her weight.

Doubt had been creeping in steadily for hours. At first she’d pushed it away. She had no room for doubt, no room to anticipate error. If she started to let that line of thinking through, she’d almost certainly fail. She had a plan and needed to see it through. If she couldn’t… she at least needed to try.

But as the hours wore on, as it began more and more clear that Boba might not like the turn of events, but didn’t seem to be stopping them, her apprehension grew.

If Boba caught her before she could otherwise dispense of him, he’d put a stop to it. She’d lose all the progress she’d made, and likely not be able to enact another plan before Tarkin came back. Even if it did work, even if all the stars aligned, she still had no idea where they were. She could be miles and miles away from anything, anyone. Would she be able to get far enough away before someone found her?

Before she could convince herself out of it, the front door swung open again. Boba walked in, looking slightly in a daze. Sleepiness clouded his eyes, as well as the head-high from ripping at nicotine like that. Her gaze followed him, but he seemed to be pointedly ignoring her since Jabba and Tarkin’s departure.

Reluctance nearly welded her mouth shut, but she summoned the dregs of her courage.

She had to at least try.

“You can at least let me have one of those before you ship me off.” She muttered, trying to bring the anger from earlier back to the surface. It only half worked, her dread made it feel cold and steely.

What she had wanted to say was sell her off, but she couldn’t bring herself to use the word, to tempt fate.

It seemed to have the same impact, Boba stared at her with a mixture of malice and pity.

“Why should I do that?”

“Why did you wrap my hands? Why did you clean my face?” She spat back. “I don’t know why you do what you do. I just wanted a drag before I’m carted off to hell.”

She let her gaze fall, as if she was resigned to the fate that seemed to lay before her. She could feel her cheeks burn, and wondered if she could blink her tired eyes fast enough to make a tear fall.

After a beat or two of silence, there was a frustrated groan next to her. It was followed by an angry exhale of breath. She picked her head up ever-so-slightly and saw Boba’s conflicted face. She held his gaze, as much as it now made her want to squirm, and saw when he’d made up his mind.

“Fine.” He seethed, patting his pockets for his pack. He came up empty, making another frustrated noise before he stormed out the front door.

Now.

She leaned over. The bottle of rubbing alcohol Boba had left on the table was only about a foot away on the table. She pushed her chest into the table as hard as she could, surely leaving a bruise but giving her that extra inch of reach. She opened her mouth, and just barely, just barely managed to reach the lip of the bottle with her front teeth. She bit down on the plastic, dragging it closer and tipping it up into her mouth.

The foul, acidic liquid tasted like fire and ice all at once. She almost gagged, but managed to set the bottle back down on the table with hardly a rattle when the door swung back open.

She held the acrid liquid in her mouth, enough to make her regret every coming up with this awful plan, but not too much as to make her cheeks puff out. She stared at Boba with as neutral an expression as she could manage. Her entire body was compelling her to spit it out, she tried to bite back the impulse.

“Here.” Boba held out a cigarette, filter end out to her. Keeping her teeth closed, she parted her lips enough for him to be able to deposit the end there. She inhaled through her nose while he fumbled around in his pocket for his lighter. Her heart was beating in her throat. A trickle of the alcohol trickled down, threatening to make her cough and blow the entire plan.

It burned. It burned like he’d lit that lighter directly in her mouth. She couldn’t hold onto it much longer if he kept fumbling around for the lighter. She was going to completely blow it. Just a few more seconds…

Boba found the lighter, held it up to the end of the cigarette, and flicked the flame on.

Leia spit all of the liquid she had in her mouth directly into the flame, which ignited it immediately. The flames then followed the trajectory of the liquid, coating Boba’s face in burning alcohol while she coughed out the rest.

He screamed, dropping the lighter and falling to the ground. She seized the opportunity, slamming her back hard against the back of the chair, hearing her weakened pole pop as it broke in half. Her hands were freed, somewhat. They were still cuffed and behind her, but she was able to wrench her shoulders so she was no longer attached to the chair.

On the top half of her body, that is.

Her ankles were still attached to the chair with what she now saw was a hastily knotted rope.

Boba groaned on the ground, already stirring and trying to get up. She didn’t have time to try and unravel the knots with trembling fingers. She needed to get out of it now, while she had this slim window of success.

Now that she could stand, she pulled herself to her feet, nearly hitting the floor again with the wave of agony that came over her right ankle. She gagged from the combination of the pain and lingering taste of alcohol on her tongue. She had no time to debate with herself any other options, she was going to have to take the one that hurt.

Leia attempted to swing her arms for momentum before she jumped backwards, taking the chair with her. She landed on the concrete floor with an audible oof and a cracking noise. The breath was briefly knocked out of her, as she rolled to her side and fought for oxygen.

She kicked, and found that the legs of the chair had broken from the seat. The broken pieces of wood still clung to her calves, but she could move them freely.

Even without her breath fully back in her chest, she used her new found mobility to shimmy her bound arms under the lower half of her crunched body, feeling her shoulder painfully strain. Briefly thankful for her small frame, she was able to pull her legs through the loop of her arms and get her hands in front of her.

Adrenaline pumped through her system, she launched to her feet, kicking off the ropes and broken chair legs. Her right ankle screamed, but the sound of Boba dragging himself to his hands and knees pushed her into action again. She skidded to him, taking advantage of his prone position and wrapping the chain of her cuffs around his neck, her wrists on either side of his head.

And she pulled.

She kept pulling, putting her right knee into his back for more leverage.

He sputtered and gasped, Leia thought she might have been screaming in rage, she didn’t know. Everything was screaming right now. Her ankle, her wrists, her shoulders. Boba was thrashing, his hands having gone to his neck to try and push the chain away. She pulled harder, now feeling the scream tear at her raw throat.

A scream of agony, a scream of hatred, a scream of someone who was about to kill.

Boba sputtered, he tried to inhale but instead made a bunch of gasping and guttering sounds. She felt his grip loosen, and then his body lulled against the chain.

Like she was a puppet and her strings were cut, she released her grasp, causing both Boba’s and her bodies to fall to the floor. She landed roughly on his back, and heard a groan as she disentangled her cuffs from around his neck, scampering off and rolling to the side.

Leia coughed, greedily sucking in the same oxygen which she’d deprived him from. Guilt lingered on the outside, but her self-preservation outweighed it. Before Boba could recover, if he could recover, Leia snatched the gun out of his hosler, pulling herself to trembling feet.

There was silence in the cabin. Her whole body shook like a leaf, from the pain or adrenaline or both. The gun rattled in her fingers while her brain tried to catch up with everything that had happened in the last sixty seconds.

Boba groaned again from the floor, but this time he managed to lift his head. Her name tumbled from his lips, and that was enough to knock her out of her stupor. She lunged for the door, ripping it open and taking off into the woods without looking back.

Her right ankle throbbed with every step, threatening to collapse. She pushed past it, wobbling over tree roots and letting the branches whip her in the face as she ran. She didn’t care which direction, as long as it was away. Far, far away.

She pushed harder than she’d ever pushed herself before. Every step away from there was like a breath in her lungs, pressing her legs to carry her away, away, away. It all felt like fire, her throat, her legs, her ankles. She was going to burn up, explode like a bomb if she kept going like this.

When she thought her heart was going to expel itself into her throat, she slowed, her ankle finally stumbling and sending her face first into the underbrush.

Leia tasted dirt, spitting out leaves and other debris that had shoved its way into her mouth, up her nose. She paused, attempting to hear movement around her. Her heart thundered too loudly in her ears, feeling her entire body pulse with every beat. There were no sounds from the woods, at least that she could detect. Nothing slithering around on the ground and surely no birds at this time of night. Just eerie silence and the gentle hum of insects in the air.

Something slammed off in the distance. She vaguely recognized the squeak as the cabin door, and scrambled back to her feet. Relieved as she was that she didn’t actually kill Boba, it did mean that he could come after her, it also means he was probably calling for backup. She didn’t know if he even had a gun, or if the one she’d stolen off of him was all he was carrying.

She pulled herself to her feet, but bit back a cry when she attempted to stand. Her ankle.

Her stupid, fucking ankle and that stupid fucking cop’s flashlight.

Frustration burned hot in her throat as tears snaked down her face. She would not make it this far just to be caught again, she would not let something as stupid as a sprained ankle keep her in captivity. She tried to reach to brace herself on a tree, but with stiff cuffed hands, it was out of her grasp.

Before she could think of all of the ramifications, Leia looped the chain in front of the muzzle of the gun, pulled it so it stretched taut across the opening of the chamber, and pressed down on the trigger.

A bullet exploded out, sparks and flakes of metal flying in all directions. She could feel the heat on her hands from the shot, as well as the bite of hot pieces of metal. But the chain was obliterated. A link or two hung off each cuff, she was able to pull her arms apart.

Before she could appreciate the sweet relief, the sound of slamming car doors could be heard off to the right.

The backup.

They must not have been stationed too far away, to have gotten here that quickly. Her gunshot might as well have been a homing beacon for her location, she might as well have waved a giant flag saying ‘I’m right here!’.

She bit back her cry of pain and took off in another direction, trying to gauge what would get her the furthest from both the cabin and the sound of slamming car doors. She took off into the dark, dank air of the night, dragging her useless right foot behind her.

Leia gripped Boba’s gun with still-shaking hands.

She would not go back. She’d kill everyone and herself if she had to. She would not be a pawn in Jabba’s game, she would not be a Skywalker in chains.

She would not go back.

Chapter Text

June 2nd, 2:15am

Luke ran blindly through the woods. His feet kept getting caught on tree roots and rocks, threatening to dump him head over feet. Han crashed through the brush somewhere off to his right, but his friend had demanded they split up, cover more ground.

Luke hated the idea, but saw the logic in it. So he’d just nodded and continued towards the direction they heard the shot, whipping through the trees. Though, noise bounced around weirdly in the woods. It could have come from anywhere, they were running in mostly blind.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, Artoo checking in. He’d also taken off after seeing Luke and Han disappear, leaving Threepio scared and complaining by himself. Luke tapped out a quick response, saying he hadn’t found anything yet either, when a car engine could be heard. Quickly the sound of tires crunching on gravel followed, and Luke dove behind a tree.

His heart in his throat, Luke clutched Han’s gun to his chest. Headlights showered the woods in light, revealing a large, red SUV that went racing straight past him.

Something was happening here, something was going down, even if it wasn’t Leia.

The SUV continued down the gravel road, seemingly having not spotted Luke. He waited until the car was fully out of sight, then opened his phone and shot off another text to the group chat.

Red car heading for the cabin. Following now.

Threepio immediately responded saying it was a bad idea. Artoo said he’d try and find him, but Luke had already set off. On deft feet, he hugged the treeline and followed the gravel road. He held Han’s gun tightly in his hands, though kept it pointed at the ground with his finger off the trigger. He didn’t want to shoot one of his friends by mistake.

He hoped Han thought about that before he opened fire on the first thing that moved.

It was eerily silent, creeping through the trees like this. The car had already progressed well out of earshot. Even the insects around him had stopped singing, leaving the only sound being Luke’s breath and the crunch of his shoes over the rocks. It felt like he was following this road forever, but it had likely only been a half mile or so. Vaguely, in the distance, he could see some varied lights. Could have been porch lights or car headlights or even flashlights, he didn’t know. He continued his approach anyways, seeing the cabin he’d found from the satellite images in the small clearing. He tried to quiet his footsteps, still existing fully inside the treeline.

It was a sad looking thing. The roof looked caved in the middle under the enormous weight of the mound of pine needles nested on top. The porch looked to be half rotted, and there was only a single lightbulb illuminating the front of the building. It looked old and hardly habitable.

Three cars were parked out front. Two red SUVs, like the one he saw, and one slightly familiar looking sedan. Luke crouched behind a large tangle of a bush, peering through the foliage.

He could see the front door was left open, if only by a couple of inches. A light was on inside, but he didn’t see any movement. He couldn’t sense if anyone was in there, let alone how many people. Technically, fifteen could fit between those three cars. There could be fifteen of Jabba’s guys out here, sulking around in the woods like him, waiting to happen across one of his friends. He resolved his grit,pulling his phone out, ensuring the brightness was all the way down lest it give him away. He fired off a quick text to let the group know he’d found the cabin, but it looked potentially deserted.

Behind him, several shots rang out. He jumped, whipping his head in the direction of the noise. They pierced through the silence of the forest, ringing in his ears with all the possibilities of what they could mean. Hushed voices rang out, none that he could recognize, they seemed to be moving away from him.

If those voices were the occupants of the car he saw… then who was inside?

Without thinking, and without warning the rest of the team, Luke slipped out of the treeline.

Holding Han’s gun, he crept up the gravel driveway. He cringed at every sound his shoes made on the rocks, but there was no movement from the cabin, not even a scuffle. He continued his push, stepping onto the creaking, rotting porch.

Nothing moved, no one came rushing out at him.

Luke nudged the door open with the barrel of the gun.

Three more shots echoed, still outside in the woods behind him. He paused for a moment, waiting to see if anyone came barreling out of the trees. He waited. Silence.

He pushed the cabin door fully open, sweeping Han’s gun across the room.

Inside it was nearly bare. There was a table with some medical supplies on it. One chair sat at the table and another one in pieces on the ground. An old, dilapidated bed sat against the back wall with some sort of kitchen set up. He took another step inside, the floorboards creaking under his feet.

There was one door in the back, slightly ajar, with no light coming from it. Luke readjusted his grip, the metal getting slippering in his sweaty palms. He went to go cross the apartment, but his phone buzzed in his pocket.

From Artoo:

Found her.

His location was attached.

Before Luke could even react, Han replied with a stay there. Luke clicked the location open on his maps, checking over his shoulder to ensure he wouldn’t be ambushed. Artoo was a mile and a half away through the woods, in the complete opposite direction of where Threepio was with the car. He cursed silently, checking which direction to start running.

Luke took off, not caring if he was heard crashing and running through the underbrush. With Han’s gun in one hand, he tapped a few buttons of his phone and pressed it against his ear.

It rang three times before Threepio picked up.

“Luke! Thank god, this is all feeling out of hand.” His friend complained, voice shaking slightly.

“Threepio, I need you to follow the location Artoo put in the chat. Whatever you have to do to get there, or get the car close to it.”

“But, that’s in the middle of the woods. There’s not a road there —”

“Find one!” He ended the call, shoving the phone in his pocket. There was no point in being louder than he had to be. Another shot rang out, followed closely by three coming from a different direction. Whoever let loose the initial round wasn’t shooting back. He bit back the fear that had wedged its way inside of his chest.

His friends would be okay. His sister would be okay.

Artoo found her. She was here.

Relief he hadn’t let himself feel yet started to worm its way down his spine, sending his feet even faster across the uneven forest floor. He was moving so quickly with such abandon, he didn’t hear the other set of footsteps until he was running into them.

Literally.

Luke collided with someone in the underbrush with an audible oof, sending both of them skittering to the ground. He barely caught his fall, having to brace both hands on the forest floor to keep from smashing his face straight into it. When the world stopped flailing, he paused. His chest ached from the impact, the gun was knocked out of his hands. He hurriedly felt around the grass and tree roots for it, trying to shake the impact off.

Someone found it first. Luke heard the safety click off, right behind him.

Robert held Han’s gun he’d dropped, pointing it directly at Luke’s head. He was still kneeling on the ground, holding his side, but he was slowly rising to his feet. Slowly, because it looked like every move he made pained him. And he looked awful. His face was red, swollen, and shining in the light of the moon. His neck had an angry red welt across it, and Luke could hear his shuddering, wheezing breaths.

He held his hands up in surrender, still facing the ground.

“Get up.” Robert gargled, motioning with the barrel of the gun. Luke swallowed back the impulse to grab for it, slowly pulling himself to his feet, keeping Robert’s gaze the entire time. “Where is she?” He said in that cracking, distorted voice.

“I don’t know.” Luke lied, still holding his hands up in the air. “I haven’t found her.”

“I know it’s more than just you.” Robert sneered, though it came out almost like a whistle. What happened to him?

“You’re right.” Another voice. Luke whipped his head to the left, where Han emerged from the brush, Threepio’s gun pointed at Robert. Before he could even feel a sense of relief, he noted the malice was written across Han’s face, coloring his features in a way Luke had never seen before. “It’s me you want.” He pointed his chin at Luke. “Leave the kid outta this.”

Luke watched as Robert looked between him and Han, clearly conflicted. His red rimmed, bloodshot eyes kept darting between them, his grip on Han’s gun shaking. Anger seemed to win over reason. Robert made a frustrated growl in the back of his mangled throat before turning so his gun was pointed at Han.

But, Han was faster. As soon as he saw Robert start to move, Han pointed the tip of his gun slightly lower and fired.

Luke’s hands pressed against his ears before he could stop himself, blinking the flash of the shot out of his vision. Someone screamed next to him, and he turned and saw Robert on the ground, clutching at his foot. Dark liquid coated his hands, hands that were wrapped around a hole in the top of his foot.

“See how easy it is to aim? Could give you a few pointers.” Han said with amusement, approaching him slowly with his gun still held high. “Thought you were supposed to be some sort of instructor.” Robert was ignoring him, still yelling with his foot cradled against him.

“Luke.” Han said, snapping him out of his stupor. He dropped his hands from their raised position. Han inclined his head to the ground next to Robert, where his gun lay. He bent down and snatched it up, turning it so it was also pointed at Robert’s prone form on the ground.

“Leia?” Luke asked without looking.

“With Artoo. They’re fine,” was his flat response.

“What do we do about him?” Luke asked, pointing the gun at the man who’s screams had turned to whimpers. If they didn’t move soon, someone else was bound to find them. He glanced at Han, who’d lost a little color in his face.

“Somethin’ you’re not gonna like.” Han readjusted his grip on the gun, Luke’s stomach bottomed out.

“Wait, no.” He started, but saw Han’s jaw set, his finger balanced over the trigger. “No, Han.” He dropped his gun, taking a step so he could place a hand on the top of his friend’s. Han glanced at him, barely contained fury hiding behind his features. “It’s not what we do, we’re not them.” He looked back down at the pathetic man below them, who was just staring blankly up at Han.

He watched his friend’s face twist, indecision racking his features before he groaned, letting the gun fall. “Better be grateful the kid still has a conscience.” Han seethed, pointing at Robert. He gave Luke a gruff stare. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

Han started running again in the direction Luke was going before, not looking back to see if he was following. Luke cast one more pitiful look in Robert’s direction. He was still on the ground, holding his foot, now in silence.

They held each other’s gaze for a moment. Luke couldn’t tell what he was trying to relay to him, but he couldn’t help but feel bad for the man. Even if he did have a part in all of this. He pressed his lips together, then turned away from him.

He took off after Han.

June 2nd, 2:30am

Leia had blood on her hands.

Physical and metaphorical.

Artoo had pulled her behind a fallen tree, crouching down into the damp earth to hide them. It smelled like rot and dirt, but it was the safest she’d felt in days. The woods were silent. It had been five minutes since she heard a single shot go off, too far away to have been targeting them. There was no hint of any pursuers on them right now.

If there were even any pursuers left. She didn’t know how many she hit, but she knew she’d gotten at least two. She’d seen two large shapes fall in the distance after she’d shot. Her hands still felt the reverberation of the gun, where the grip bit into her palms.

Boba’s gun was empty, it only held six bullets anyway. She’d demanded Artoo’s when he’d found her, and he’d handed it over without argument. She’d stuffed Boba’s useless one in the waistband of her pants.

Leia clutched it in her bloodied hands, straining her ears for noise around them. It was eerily silent for a few more moments, the only sounds around them being her ragged breathing. She held her breath, waiting to see who was coming next, who were inevitably going to find them holed up here. Artoo opened his mouth to say something, but she shushed him, tilting her ear to the sky.

But… there. There was something moving near them, someone was approaching — no. Not someone. Two people, two patterns of footsteps. Not walking, running.

Leia grit her teeth. She knew this spot couldn’t last long, it was only a matter of time before whatever backup Boba called would find her again. She would not be taken back, she would not let Artoo get caught in this. She would not let them have her.

She turned, crouching so she could rest the gun on top of the fallen tree, sticking her head out just enough to see in the direction of the footsteps. They were far, but rapidly approaching. She readjusted her grip. Artoo said something, but she completely blocked it out, solely focusing on her target.

He said something again, but she could see the dark shadows of the figure running to them. 50 feet away, 40 feet away, 30 feet away.

She aimed and squeezed the trigger. The gun kicked back more than she expected and she almost lost her grip on it. A stumbled Hey! came from the direction of the pursuers, but it was a hey she recognized. Breath caught in her throat, her heart squeezed uncomfortably in her chest.

Luke crashed through the trees, nearly running into the log she and Artoo were hiding behind. His face was wild, blue eyes blazing and mouth hung slightly agape. He’d found Leia’s eyes immediately, both of them stopped in their tracks.

Her heart stopped beating. The world stopped turning. Her brother was there, in front of her.

Something made her stand, some outside force pushed her onto her feet, staring at her twin.

“Who the hell is shootin’ at me?!” Another voice she recognized rang out, whacking tree branches out of the way as he crossed into her sight. “Shit, you nearly clipped me in the ear.” Han was rubbing the side of his head, lifting his gaze so he finally met her eyes.

For a precious moment, they all just looked at each other. Luke and Han staring at Leia, and her staring back.

She could have cried. She felt the tears welling in her eyes as the sweet sense of relief threatened to bring her back to her knees… but it had to wait, it all had to wait. They were still in the middle of the woods, potentially surrounded. She shook her head, clearing it of anything that was not explicitly about escape.

Leia reached and pulled Artoo to standing by his shirt, who let out a ”Oh hey guys!” when he saw Luke and Han. Luke waved.

“Tell me you guys have a plan that doesn’t involve running out of here?” Leia asked, looking between Luke and Han.

“He’s the brains, sweetheart.” Han muttered, his eyes still greedily drinking her in. She tried to ignore it, the heat and pointedness behind his gaze. Later. They could focus on that later, after they got out.

She turned to Luke, who’d pulled his phone out of his pocket, clicking through something.

“Threepio’s a third of a mile to the north. There was an old trail or something, he can’t get closer.” Luke read, then pointed in the direction of north.

Leia scrambled over the fallen tree, wincing when she landed on her right ankle, which had once again regained feeling after she’d hidden. Luke was there instantly, offering an arm for her to clutch to.

Which she only did because he was her brother, and it was really starting to hurt.

“Can you walk?” Han asked, concern lacing his face instead of judgement. Leia nodded, waving him off to lead the group. He seemed hesitant, but turned, holding his gun out as he started walking north, pushing branches and kicking rocks out of the way. Luke handed Artoo his gun, and started helping Leia as she wobbled through the trees. She kept a tight grip on Artoo’s gun, and Luke didn’t move to try and take it from her. Artoo followed behind them, using Han’s gun, she noticed, to sweep the area behind their backs.

A third of a mile wasn’t far, in theory, but it felt like a marathon. They got a couple hundred feet in before she heard Luke’s phone buzz. He reached with his free arm to open the message.

“Threepio says —”

“We’ve got company!” Han yelled in front of them, interrupting Luke before a barrage of shots came their direction. Everyone ducked instinctively, Han dove behind a tree just in time, turning to return fire.

Suddenly, headlights swarmed to life through the trees. The horn blared, and Artoo said, “That’s Threepio!”

“Go!” Han yelled, and the twins didn’t need to be told twice. She got a fleeting glance of Han turning and continuing to fire back when she craned her neck to look, but limped after Luke and Artoo as they raced towards the awaiting car. More shots, she couldn’t even begin to count them. But the car was close, so close she felt her body starting to give, starting to collapse.

She pushed, dredging up the last of her resolve to ignore her pain and continue running. Artoo barrelled ahead of them, reaching the car and throwing the back door open.

She heard a yell, one that suspiciously sounded like Han’s, and the crashing as he ran up behind them. Shots continued to ring out, and one even hit a tree next to Luke’s head right after Leia gave a warning cry. The car loomed in front of them, only ten feet away. Another bullet hit the car, and she heard Threepio’s yelp of fright.

But, they were there. Luke shoved her through the back doors, where she clambered over… something to give him space to skidder in after her. He did, pushing her further inside, so Artoo could catch the door, jumping in after Luke.

She saw Han running, and yelling, towards the car, clutching his gun to his chest. Another bullet hit the top of the frame when Han grabbed the passenger handle, ripping it open and pulling himself into the seat.

“Drive!” he yelled at Threepio, who pressed down on the gas pedal and rocketed the car forward. Three more shots could be heard embedding themselves into the metal, everyone ducked their heads out of instict.

“Lights off!” Leia yelled, trying to be heard over the crashing of the car through the brush.

“But I can’t see!” Threepio protested. Han leaned over and turned the lights off just as Leia yelled the command again. The world plunged into darkness. The car bumped unsteadily over the unknown terrain, hitting something hard, causing Leia to bite her tongue.

Threepio exclaimed, but Han barked something about keeping going and he continued to push the car through the woods. The road evened out, and he yanked the wheel to follow whatever flat path this was. They all listened for more shots, for the approach of another vehicle.

“Can I turn the lights back on?” Threepio asked, but Leia and Han both yelled no.

“Here.” Luke handed his phone up to Han in the passenger seat, a map pulled up. “Follow that.”

“We can’t go home.” Han said, setting the phone up so Threepio could see it.

“It’s not home.” Luke gave Leia a pointed look, but she was too exhausted to consider what he was trying to say. She’d slowly realized what she was sitting on was some sort of bed in the back of the car. Artoo and Luke were sitting cramped together on the floor, amongst… were those hunting rifles?

The relief she was so desperate for finally came washing over her bones, making her eyelids droop and her ankle and head throb painfully. She didn’t even realize she was still holding Luke’s hand until he gave it a gentle squeeze, but didn’t let go. Her heart swelled and threatened to burst out of her chest.

Han turned around in his seat, locking eyes with her again. He gave her one of his trade-mark half smiles, and she felt her body let go of some heart-clenching fear.

“Hey, princess.” He drawled. She couldn’t help the way the corners of her mouth twitched up.

“You’re late.”

Chapter Text

If you're looking for Chapters 16 of On the Run, I wasn't happy with the way the story was progressing so I have taken it down to rework it with the ending I had in mind. I will be going back and editing/updating the previous chapters before I rewrite 16. If you enjoyed that chapter and would like to read it again, feel free to comment here or message me on tumblr (@joybirdsworks) and I will send it over to you.

Have no fear! This story will be finished, it just might take me a bit longer to rework it into something I'm happy with.