Leia watched as the nurse tucked the corners of the clean sheets into the empty bed. She watched as the nurse arranged the pillows for the next patient. She had even watched as the nurse cleared away the last of Han's things.

She looked around the empty room and thought about the past few weeks of sitting by Han's bedside. He had been in so much pain that they had kept him sedated for the first three weeks after he'd come out of the bacta.

He hadn't woken at all since that morning on the ridge. She had talked to him, of course, but his eyes hadn't opened even once.

The room seemed strangely lifeless now he wasn't there, the air, oddly cold.

She ran her hand along the smooth bar at the end of the bed, remembering the way he'd been.

"Would you like to take these now, Your Highness?"

Leia looked up at the nurse who was holding out to her Han's personal effects and his clothes.

Gratefully, she took them.

"Thank you," she whispered.

As Leia stood to leave she looked around the room one last time, sighing softly.

"Are you alright, your Highness?" the nurse asked before she, too, left the vacant room.

"Yes, I'm…just fine."

"Are you going home now?" she asked.

Leia nodded.

"Yes. Han will be waking up soon.

It could almost have been a dream. He woke to complete darkness and almost complete silence, but there was someone else in the room. He could sense them, feel their presence.

Great, he thought groggily. I'm turning into the Kid.

But there was someone there.

He tried to moved his arm, to sit himself up, but found that it took all of the effort he possessed to simply keep his eyes open.

Perhaps he would have better luck with speaking. He attempted 'Leia' to begin with, for it was most likely she who was near to him.

"Luuurghh..?"

He almost laughed at himself. That was too quiet for anyone to hear. And, more to the point,

Who in blazes is 'Luuurghh'?

He tried again.

"Leiuuurghh..?"

Well, that was a little better.

He felt soft, slender fingers brush the hair from his forehead and, after trying instinctively to flinch away, managed to move his eyes enough to see that she was beside him.

"Leuuurghh..." he tried again. "I lurghh ooo..."

He saw her smile and she leant down to him.

"I love you too," she whispered and kissed his forehead.

Again, an instinctive jerk disrupted his first train of thought before Han allowed his eyes to close for a second as she kissed him and then opened them slowly.

"Whereemi..?"

Leia's smile deepened, the soft glow in her eyes, and it warmed him, despite the pain he was beginning to feel.

"You're in a bed, Han."

He tried to shake his head but just about managed to close his eyes and frown a little.

"No, Imeen..."

"I know, I know," she whispered. "I'm sorry. You're in your own bed, Han. You got here yesterday. Before that you were in the hospital for a month or so. Do you remember?"

"Nurgh."

"That's okay," she murmured. "They said you wouldn't for a while."

He moved his fingers a little with a whimper and she felt the movement and took his hand, frowning slightly at the twitch it gave.

"Shh," she whispered, touching her lips to his forehead gently. "Shh, it's all okay now."

He jumped, then closed his eyes and lay still a moment, and then nuzzled into the kiss, turning his head and raising it, parting his dry, cracked lips. He heard gentle laughter and then the brush of lips against his skin, and finally, after what seemed an eternity, she kissed him, with feather light caresses on his lips - the new flesh there was not strong enough to take more than such treatment - and supported his head with her hand. For a moment he froze, but he determined to try.

This is Leia. You're home. You're safe. She loves you.

She felt his lips move in response, barely open, but grateful for the contact.

They remained like that for a long time, with her bestowing the lightest kisses upon his torn lips, and him reveling in the feeling. It was his own bed, but, when he thought about it, it mattered not where he was, be it Coruscant or Dagobah. She was with him now and always would be. They were together: He was home.

In the next few days, Han regained enough strength to move around their home. This particular afternoon, they lay together, stretched out on the couch, he working, she simply there to keep him company. He leaned back into her breast and allowed himself to be wrapped in her small arms as he studied his datapad, frowning at the conflicting ideas, his eyes aching. She ran her fingers through his hair and smiled. He hardly flinched at all now when she touched him.

"Han?"

Han looked up from his datapad and squinted at her in the bright light of the lounge.

"I'm going to bed now."

He smiled.

"Okay," he whispered. "I'll see you in the morning."

She nodded and walked to their bed. She was going to spend tonight alone because he still couldn't sleep in the same bed as her. She wanted him to be completely comfortable and willing before they attempted any intimacy.

And, what with his original ordeal, it had been six months since they had last made love. She recalled their night on the Falcon on the way to Senator Algara's house and wished she could go to Han, take him where he stood. But she would wait as she knew she had to.

Leia was busy trying to make sure the fry up didn't burn. She moved the first pan onto the hob that wasn't heated, and then she turned to the other one, only to find Han in the way, seemingly distraught. He almost looked like he was going to cry.

"Han!" she said, turning down the heat on the second pan and taking a step closer. "What's wrong?"

"I…" he started, then looked down at his bare feet. "I…I missed you."

She laughed softly.

"But, Han," she said, "I only got up to make breakfast ten minutes ago."

"I went into the bedroom and you weren't there," he said quietly.

"Oh, Han," she whispered, touching her hand to his face.

Suddenly enough to take her by surprise, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, burying his head in her neck, pulling her as close as he could possibly get her, holding her tightly. For a moment she was stunned and simply let him, then she closed her own arms about him and returned the embrace.

"Han," she said softly into the hollow of his neck. "I'm not going to leave, you know."

"Just checking," he mumbled. "I just…I needed a hug. I-Is that okay?"

"Of course that's okay! Han, what…Are you sure that's all?"

"I just needed to hold you. I wanted you to hold me. I just wanted…you."

She reached up and stroked the back of his head, crooning gently.

"That's okay, Han. That's just fine. I'm here."

He pulled away.

" 'Kay, bye," he said simply, and left the kitchen.

Han lay on the couch on his own. She would probably be gone all day. She was still an important figure and, despite his state of well-being, she had work to do. He let his head rock back against the arm of the couch and closed his eyes for second.

But there was an odd sound, like a breeze, a soft hissing. His leg itched but he ignored it. Until the itch moved. It tickled right up his shin and there was a sudden shooting pain in his knee. He sat up with a sharp cry and slapped at his knee, pausing when he felt a small squelch.

He looked around. Where was that hissing coming from?

And then he saw it. All over the floor were hundreds upon hundreds of Cerean Blood Parasites.

"No!" he shouted, but they swarmed up over the couch and enveloped him.

"Agh! NO!"

"Easy, Han!" Leia's voice said softly, and he felt warm hands at his back and shoulder.

He looked around, completely confused.

"That was one hell of a nightmare," Leia said softly.

He was still on the couch, but it was dark and his work was strewn across the floor.

"Nightmare?" he gasped, out of breath.

"Blood parasites again?"

"Yeah," he nodded, hanging his head and closing his eyes while she kneaded his shoulders. "Leia?"

She stopped and leant forward.

"What is it?" she asked softly, brushing the hair from his forehead.

He looked at her, eyes dark but bright. Perhaps a ghost of a smile crossed his face. Then he held up his arms.

"Hold me."

It was decidedly cosy in the dark at this time of night, especially lying side by side on the longest couch in the room.

Han stared into the fire and snuggled a little closer to her. She hugged him a little tighter and turned her head into his hair.

He moved his head to look at her and twined his fingers with hers.

She craned her neck, bringing her face toward his, watching the firelight play in the dark hazel of his eyes. Then she smiled and brushed her lips against his, as though testing his response. When she drew away, he ran the tip of his tongue over his lips. Then he looked up at her eyes again.

"Leia," he whispered.

She raised her hand to his face and kissed him again, a little longer, a little more insistently.

His arms slid about her and he pulled her closer. One of her legs found its way between his and their legs wove together. Leia felt his hands snake up the back of her shirt and tentatively tried the movement on him.

"Wait," he whispered.

She pulled away.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to…I won't force you into this, Han."

"I wish you would," he murmured.

"What?"

"I said 'I wish you would.' Maybe if you pushed me I…I'd do it."

"No, Han," she answered, the way he knew she would. "No."

"Leia, I…"

She smoothed his cheek.

"Han?"

"It's not that I don't want to, Leia. I want to, I love you. I want nothing, nothing, more than to just, touch you, just…but…I…"

She ran her fingers through his hair .

"It's just that…every time I touch you…I…I see her…"

He ducked his head as though it were something to be ashamed of and he drew a ragged breath.

She put her arms around him and drew him as close as she could.

"Six months, Han," she whispered into his hair. "It's a long time to keep your feelings inside, even for you."

He gasped and shook his head.

"No…" he whispered.

"It's alright, Han," she said. "It's just you and me. You've shed tears for the pain, I know that, I saw it, but not for the rest. Let it go, Han. Let it go."

He gasped once, twice, groaned softly into her collarbone and finally let the pain and fear, the anguish and the shame, the hate and the sadness of the last six months flow.

She held him all night. And all night he wept.

Han stared out over Coruscant city and smiled. His shirt was open and he was in the most comfortable slacks he had. He had a kochvit bottle in his hand and he leant on the railing with a soft smile on his lips.

Small hands slid around his waist and a warm body pressed its entire length along his back. A head rested between his shoulder blades.

"Hey," he said gently, turning in her arms to face her.

"Hi," she responded and pressed a kiss to his sternum. "How are you…Oh!"

Without any warning whatsoever, the heavens opened and a downpour started. She smiled and he shrugged his shoulders, and then they both laughed, ending up holding onto each other for support.

When they finally stopped laughing, Han looked at her, his eyes warm but his face serious.

"We've been here before," he said, remembering all those months ago when she had held him on the chaises-longue until he had fallen into slumber.

He reached up and ran the back of his hand along her cheek, then stroked her lips with his thumb as the water trickled down her forehead, plastering their clothes to their skin.

"Han," she whispered.

But he did not let her finish. Instead, he kissed her.

Her arms slid around his waist and up his back, straining him to her, pushing her fingers up further into the thick dark hair, sodden with warm rain. He groaned into her mouth and she pulled away to look at him.

"No," he said desperately, "don't. Don't give me time to think. If you give me time to think I'll-"

She kissed him again and his hands roamed her back, pushing one of his legs, then the other, between hers. She lifted one leg and felt in front of her the hard length that could only – finally – be his erection.

Yes!

Still they kissed, their tongues meeting and dancing as they did.

She trailed one hand down his stomach and stroked his hip, moving her hand a little lower with each caress.

Lightning flashed over the city and the thunder crashed almost instantaneously.

Han flinched away suddenly, ducking instinctively head turned to the sky, hands suddenly above his head to stave of the 'attack.'

"Han," she said. "It's not-"

"I'm sorry," he said shakily, taking a step back and then shaking his head. "I…I'm sorry!"

And he ran into the house without another word.

Leia ran a hand over her eyes and then sighed. So close.

Han sat by the fire, a blanket surrounding him. He was almost dry now. So were his clothes on the hearth. His hair wasn't damp any longer.

He shivered involuntarily when he remembered what had happened. Damn everything!

They had been so close. Why couldn't he just make love to her?

He could feel the pain in his soul and it threatened to envelop him, even as he sat there. He knew that, even though it was getting easier to touch her, it was getting harder to be more intimate. Soon it would be impossible.

He stared into the flames for a moment. Then he pushed the blanket off his shoulders and stood.

Leia lay in the bed on her side, staring at nothing. The room was almost completely dark, so dark that it was a good few minutes before her eyes adjusted.

The sheets were cold for a good while after that and even when they had warmed, she still felt empty. There was a deep ache inside her that was more than frustration. It was almost pain. All she wanted was to hold him close, to wake up beside him.

She hugged the quilt a little tighter and closed her eyes, trying to sleep. It was only a few seconds later that she opened them again, however, when tears prickled beneath the lids.

And then she stopped breathing when she felt the covers being drawn back and the mattress dip behind her before a solid warmth settled at her back. Soft kisses rained down on her neck and an arm slid about her waist.

The firm hardness of his arousal at the small of her back triggered a craving too long forgotten, a warmth too long lain dormant. When she turned onto her back to look at him, he hovered over her, eyes dark but crystal clear. There was so much emotion in those eyes; fear, love, lust, sadness, desperation, she saw it all and felt it, too.

The arm on which he supported himself partially touched her back and she understood just what it was she felt.

"You're trembling," she whispered.

"I'm not trembling," he answered with barely any hesitation.

"I love you because of who you are, Han. I always have."

He shook his head.

"I thought you liked nice men."

She touched his face.

"You're a nice man."

"No," he said, remembering the hurt he had caused her, how worried she had been, how angry, how upset, "I'm not; I'm-"

She kissed him, and he melted against her with a soft groan. Gradually he shifted his body until he lay between her legs, but he never stopped kissing her.

When she finally let go of him, she lay back and rested her arms at her sides at he shoulder level. This had to be something he did for himself.

He bent slowly and kissed her neck for a moment before pulling away and staring at her.

"Here," she whispered, reaching forward to take his hand.

When she had done this, she lifted their entwined hands to the top of her nightgown, and then began to unlace it. She didn't open the nightgown, just waited.

Slowly, he slid his hands inside and palmed her breasts, and she closed her eyes as he lifted her body and pushed her nightgown back off her shoulders. Then he kissed her neck, and her clavicle, and the swell of her breasts, then took one aching nipple into his mouth.

She ran her fingertips down his spine and he shuddered, from her caress or his own feelings, she did not know.

Slowly he slid his hands down her sides and then pushed his arms around her waist.

"Leia, please," he whispered.

And with those words, she knew without asking what it was he wanted.

She lowered her hands too and, wordlessly, she held him as he entered her body.

"Wait!" he said suddenly.

"What it is?" she whispered.

Please don't, Han. Please, you're so close.

He turned his body a little and pushed back the covers. When she looked bemused, he nuzzled her breast again and gave his explanation.

"I…I want to see you…"

She pushed her fingers into his hair again and he lowered his head and kissed her, both of them gasping when he began to move. Slowly but without further hesitation, he moved them both to climax.

"Leia," he said as he groaned into her neck, but he raised his upper body and repeated her name. "Leia?"

She arched beneath him and gasped softly.

"Leia, look at me, love, please," he said, his voice a plea.

She opened her eyes and her gaze found his as they both peaked together. And then, when his arms could no longer support him, he returned to kissing her neck, their faces wet with tears, their own and each other's.

"Han," she whispered.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she answered.

Then they kissed again and returned to their lovemaking.

When, finally, they lay exhausted in each other's arms, it was long into the night. As her own breathing returned to normal, she listened to his. It was almost back to its natural rhythm, calmer and deeper than it had been in a long, long time.

Gently, she stroked his upper and as his fingers caressed her back. His eyes were closed, but he was not sleeping, for it was he who broke the silence first.

"When they lie in darkness, she will stand in light."

Leia's blood froze.

"When they are blind, she will make them see."

"What?" she whispered, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing.

"When they are lost she will find them."

She pulled away and lifted herself, leaning over him. He turned onto his back and opened his eyes, smiling as he stroked her cheek.

"When I was in agony, you were there to ease my suffering."

He laughed softly.

"Don't you see, Leia? The woman standing in the light, the woman who found the lost? The lullaby I sang all that time ago? It was you. It was you all along; my memories of you kept me alive."

He shook his head, eyes glistening.

"You are the reason I came back. You brought me back."

She understood him, and tears came to her own eyes. He had come back for her. Their love had saved him.

"My one, my love," he said, brushing her hair back behind her ear.

And, just before he kissed her, he whispered,

"My All."