a/n: happy st. valentine's day. sort of.

Helpless

Didn't he understand that running after him in front of everyone was as explicit as she was capable of being right now?

He looked at her like she was a coward, like he couldn't stand to put up with her equivocating for a moment longer – but why didn't he understand that every time she tried to take a step forward, something held her back?

"Han, we need you," she pleaded.

"We need?" he mocked, towering over her.

"Yes," she said quickly.

"What about what you need?" he demanded.

"I need?" she repeated. "I don't know what you're talking about," she gasped, exasperated.

He just didn't – he just didn't understand; it wasn't him, it wasn't even fear of what the leadership would think, of what others would think, she just couldn't let herself be that vulnerable to him – why did he have to be so deliberately dense, why couldn't he see that trying to break through her own defense mechanisms was destroying her –

He clicked his tongue derisively; snapped his fingers harshly.

"You probably don't," he spat, and turned his back on her.

She darted after him again, grabbing his elbow – she met his eyes, silently pleading with him to understand – she wasn't there yet, she'd been through so much, she'd lost so much, she needed time to process how she felt about him, to come to terms with how consuming the feeling was, and when she tried to tell him she wanted him around, needed him around, she choked on her words –

"And what precisely am I supposed to know?"

Han, say something comforting, tell me how you feel, make me feel less vulnerable –

"Come on, you want me to stay because of the way you feel about me!" he growled, moving his face closer to hers.

No – Han, that's only scaring me away, please, don't talk about my feelings, talk about yours –

"Yes!" she cried. "You're a great help to us; you're a natural leader!"

She wanted to smack her head against a wall; she berated herself internally for her inability to be anything other than a soldier, even when his decision depended on it - -but why, why, why couldn't he understand how impossible it was for her to risk feeling something – risk feeling anything – when she'd already lost everything she loved once –

"No, that's not it," he challenged. "Come on," he provoked, gesturing at her.

I can't, Han. I can't.

A enlisted soldier ducked between them, hurrying off quickly, and she pleaded with Han's eyes silently.

"Ahhha," he growled. "Come on!"

"You're imagining things," she said bravely – these words that didn't match her feelings tumbled out of her mouth.

"Am I?" he fired right back. "Then why are you following me?"

Because I don't want you to leave!

Why didn't he understand that she couldn't risk her heart like this, not right now, not when he thought it was so simple, just a matter of falling into each other's arms or falling into bed, not when she didn't think he understood that if she gave in and he didn't take it seriously, she'd shatter -

"Afraid I was going to leave without giving you a goodbye kiss?" he asked.

Don't go, Han. I want you to stay. I want you to stay.

She envisioned herself throwing her arms around him, putting her lips close to his ear, swearing she wanted him around, asking him not to go, telling him what he wanted to hear, letting him have her, mind and body –

But out loud, she said –

"I'd just as soon kiss a Wookiee!"

The hurt that flickered briefly through his eyes felt like a knife between her ribs, but it was gone quickly, replaced by anger, indignation.

"I can arrange that," he barked, spinning on his heel.

Han, if you think you know me so well, why can't you understand?

"You could use a good kiss!" he shouted, for all the world to hear.

Han, I need you to be patient – Han, can't you see how I feel; there's no one else I'd run after in front of all of them –

"HAN!" she shouted after him, her voice strangled – but he'd disappeared, he didn't hear her; a technician shot her a look, and then hastily looked away, and she leaned against an icy wall, bowing her head.

She felt helpless; she couldn't get past her fear, her protective shell, her trauma.

She wasn't trying to hurt him, she wasn't; she wanted him to know how she felt so badly; she hated seeing him so confused, hated how pained he look when she couldn't respond to him – if he'd just stay; if she just had more time with him, maybe she could overcome her reservations, maybe, maybe –

She could tell him she loved him.

of course, when she finally does, he realizes she's been trying to tell him all along.

-alexandra
story #285