Disclaimer: George Lucas owns.

He felt it, but he didn't feel it. He knew he had been shot, but had he? The only thing he was sure of was that he was falling, twisting. There was blackness, and then ground.

And then the pain came.

Only it was beyond pain. It was hot, and throbbing, and seeping. Why was it still black? He shook his head. No, that hurt too. Best be still. But it was foggy. The blackness was foggy? That didn't make sense.

He felt his consciousness slipping away, grabbed at it. Must stay awake. Why? He couldn't remember.

And then there were hands. Soft, gentle, he knew those hands. But they were worried, he felt the fear in them. He frowned, those hands should not be afraid. He tried to speak, to tell them it would be all right.

The blackness was gone as suddenly as it had come. It dizzied him slightly, this abrupt return to the world. Only he was not there completely. The blackness hovered at the edges of his eyes, threatening to engulf him, and Leia's face swam in and out of focus. Beyond her, havoc. The corridor had been completely destroyed. That was why he must stay awake. He remembered now. Lead the men, take the building, stop the evil. So simple, why had it seemed so difficult at the time?

"Han, Han! Stay awake, come on."

Her voice was urgent, terrified. She was never afraid, it must be bad.

He wondered vaguely why that didn't scare him.

He blinked up at her. Her gaze didn't leave his, but her hands were moving, scuttling across his abdomen. An exceptionally sharp stab of pain. He winced and arched his back against it. The darkness swept forward eagerly, but he pushed it back. Wait, he told it firmly, wait a moment.

Leia's eyes still held his, and she looked horrified. She realized she had hurt him. It's all right, he wanted to tell her, don't worry.

He didn't want her to worry. He wanted her to be happy and smile, and laugh. She couldn't mourn for him, it would break her. She had a habit of doing that, of turning her feelings inwards against herself. She suffered. The guilt ate at her soul. Only this time, who would stop her self-destruction? He wouldn't be there to save her. She must save herself. And be happy.

But how to tell her? She was still looking at him, and the battle raged on behind her. Leia, they need you, you can't stop for me. He had to make her understand. Don't let me be the source of your unhappiness, you must keep going.

"It's all right, Han," she choked, "you're going to be okay." There were tears now.

Of course I'll be okay. Nothing can hurt me now. Do you know that?

She was crying openly, applying more pressure to the hole in his side. There was so much blood. Was it all his?

The darkness nudged him impatiently. Come on, it said, I'm not going to wait forever.

All right, he told it, I'll be right there.

He felt his eyes begin to close. Leia gasped, the pressure on his side increased. She had put more weight on her hands as she tried to stop the bleeding. But the blood paid no attention. It continued to flow as swiftly as ever, eager to escape the confines of his body. Her hands were too small, and the hole too large.

You can't save everything, Princess. Sometimes it's bigger than you. But you try so hard, and I'm so proud of you.

"Han, you'll be okay, don't give up," she said. It was a plea. Desperate. She knew.

I know I'll be okay, Sweetheart, I've already told you. It doesn't even hurt anymore.

Again his eyes made to close, and again Leia's voice caught him before he could concede defeat.

"No, Han! Don't give in, please," still begging.

It won't be long, I'll see you soon. I promise.

He was drifting, and she was fading.

"I love you, Sweetheart," spoken words, mumbled through numb lips. He saw her face screw up in agony, she gasped for breath through the tears. And he could feel nothing but cold.

"Han, Han!" she called after him.

But he was already gone.

Floating.

It was meant to be fluff. How it ended up like this is quite beyond me.