He's just a child.

That's what the waitress thinks, because she's never spent any time in the seedier side of Corellia and doesn't know that kids can get dangerous when they get hungry enough.

He smiles at her and charms her enough that she ignores the dirt and brings him some ice cream because she believes his story about his parents coming back, "real soon".

Han's seven, and he stopped believing that lie years ago. He eats the ice cream, picks her pocket, and disappears. He shares the funds with the rest of the gang and listens as Moll spins a tale of the Jedi for the little ones.

He scoffs at it, because he's not a baby anymore and doesn't believe in fairy stories. He dreams of ships, speed, and freedom instead, three concepts that are utterly inseparable in his mind.

He's small and young but not a child, he'll insist stubbornly, and "child" implies certain levels of innocence and dependency, so perhaps he's right.

He's just a stupid teenager, the captain thinks but hires him anyway, because stupid teenagers don't know that they're being paid less than the legal minimum wage.

Of course, considering the fact that what the paperwork says they're hauling and what they're actually hauling don't exactly match up, legality isn't exactly the crew's first concern.

Han's thirteen, so the captain's not wrong about him being a teenager, although the captain might, possibly, have believed him to a slightly older one. And given his reckless streak . . . Han Solo's not stupid, but Captain Li's not the first person to think he is. Han occasionally thinks he is.

As a general rule though, stupid teenagers don't talk their way out of trouble with the Empire, and they don't, for their nineteenth birthday, con the rest of the crew into leaving them alone with the ship and then steal it.

So, teenager, yes. Stupid, no.

Wisdom is another matter entirely.

Han Solo's a smuggler, as several people who have . . . contacts . . . can tell you. He's a good one, some say, a stupid one, some claim, and a reckless one, all agree.

Whatever the qualifiers, he's a criminal, and most people he knows use that word as a compliment even if it's the only good thing they have to say about him. He's selfish (always), violent (when he has to be, and only when he has to be), and thinks he's better at talking his way out of trouble than he actually is (debatable).

Han Solo himself will tell you that much.

He is, first and foremost, a smuggler, though. He'll rob on occasion and has killed before, but he's not a thief, not a murderer, and not a kidnapper. Just a smuggler.

Which does not explain why, exactly, he's on the run from three Imperial ships after rescuing a Wookie from slavery with no destination in particular in mind and no good explanation for why he would do something that fits no working definition of the word "selfish". There's not a credit in sight and no chance of one coming unless he's willing to sell the Wookie off to someone and that thought never even enters his head.

He's a smuggler who just dropped a shipment of something extremely valuable to save a Wookie he doesn't know, and he has absolutely no good explanation as to why.

Han's not a coward by any stretch of the imagination, but he is a pragmatist. If a cause is lost, he's not going to sit around and talk about glory, he's going to leave.

He's a practical man. He has to be. Unattainable dreams of wealth are as close as he gets to anything else, but at least they serve as a good excuse for the whole thing involving a princess, some apparently not so mythical Jedi, and way more Imperials than he's comfortable with.

They do not explain the Death Star.

According to the Imperial most wanted list, he's a rebel. Given the whole Death Star thing, and all the missions that came after it, he guesses he can understand why they think so.

Everyone thinks so, apparently. He's got quarters and missions and everything. And he is committing treason, so, rebel. Sure.

That he keeps the credits he pickpockets from an Imperial official's jacket and only passes on the documents that are needed isn't really relevant, nor is the fact that he refuses, point blank, to let anyone else pilot his ship no matter how important it is.

Luke's captured at one point, and Han gets him out. That's the part that everyone knows soon enough, because gossip spreads fast. Everyone knows that. The trickier bit of whether it was because Luke's the hope of the rebellion, because it was the decent human thing to do, or whether it was because the kid's the closest thing to family he's got next to Chewie, is a bit more debated.

What no one knows but Chewie was that there was a moment where it looked like the only way to get Luke out would be to betray the rebellion.

What no one knows but Han is that if it had come down to it, Han would have done it.

"Loyal citizen of the New Republic" is what he's called in the speeches right before he gets some medal or award.

Lando snickers a bit in the back until Leia rolls her eyes and elbows him, and no one really has to ask why.

He's got a job, a wife, and a kid. He's a responsible adult.

Or he would be, if Chewie would stop laughing and help him prank the stupid new pilot back already.

"Husband" is true.

Even if he hasn't seen her in three years now.

"Father" is true.

Even if he hasn't seen him in three years now and even if Ben's also the reason he hasn't seen Luke in the same amount of time. Even if Ben's not the child he used to be.

"Responsible adult" is. Well.

Is it possible to pull off a heist responsibly?

(Considering that he lost the Falcon, let's go with "no".)

Freelance was always a lost cause, but he tries it out anyways. The rebellion pulls him back, just like all those other titles do.

Husband. Father. Brother.

He's working on it.

Rebel. He can stick that label back on easily enough. It's always fit him fine. He's a soldier of the rebellion. He's a rebel. He's risking the rebellion's mission to rescue his son, who may or may not be on his way to becoming a Sith lord.

. . . Look, he's never been one for labels, all right?

Dead. The one label that applies to everyone, eventually. No getting around it.

It's just, well, Han Solo's never been one for labels, really. Never saw the point in confining yourself to a particular box.

So he's dead, just like he was also a child, a stupid teenager, a selfish smuggler, a pragmatist, a rebel, a loyal citizen, a responsible adult, a husband, a father, and a soldier.

He's dead.

. . . Mostly.

The point is, it's not his fault, all right? A lifetime habit is hard to kick. Even when you're dead. Especially then.

So. Mostly dead.

Then someone points out that mostly dead people don't have heartbeats, and Han Solo leans back and waits for the next label to fall, pretty sure he can defy everyone's expectations and argue his way up to "used to be dead" by dawn.