AN: *peeks out from under the covers* I'm back!

Silent assaulted Han's ears, waiting for something. Anything. Half dreading, half expecting the eerily familiar mechanical breathing which never came.

The small broken frame of Leia watched him shrewdly, eyes widened knowingly for a short moment, but her invisible grasp on his life tightened further; a warning.

Laughter crackled behind him, but it didn't matter now. All that mattered was her. The unfamiliar look in her eyes, full of anger and fear and aggression and everything else which had no business being etched in her beautiful face. Nothing, except for that slow murderous smile which tugged at the corner of the mouth he knew the taste of.

Panic flared inside him renewed. Not a small spark of uncertainty; but a sudden engulfing inferno raging across his entire being. Everything narrowed. Shorten and became insignificant. Everything except that small smile. It was foreign. Unwelcome. He wanted desperately to run, to grab her and blast out of here. But he wasn't going anywhere. They had known, somehow, had anticipated him. It had been too easy. His Leia had been right. Pain ratcheted through him, he would never hold her again. Never touch her. Taste her, hear her laugh or feel the soft strands of hair slide between his fingers as he tucked her into him - as was their norm.

The small vision of a lonely white Corellian Lily laying stark and cold on the slab of a prison cell avalanched into his mind. Perhaps Jabba had done this or perhaps even Fett. But he knew, deep down in his bones he knew. This was his fault and he could lay the blame with no other. No Hutt crime lord. Not a ruthless bounty hunter who had stalked his mind for decades. Nor the unfamiliar Leia toying with him now, increasing the pressure of her invisible hold fraction by precious fraction. Not even the horrible dark bastard controlling her and stalking ever closer, ragged and desperate breathing sending shots of disgust down Han's spine. No. This was his.

Han realized then, as the dark encroached across his vision, he has gotten it wrong. He was the lily. Not her. He was dying; alone and noble. Now out of place in a world so full of hate and darkness.

How poetic. She was going to kill him.

Heartbeat thundering in his ears, Han rasped once more; throat and lungs screaming in protest.

Leia stop! He screamed at her in his mind. It had worked once. Perhaps it would work again.

Tension slackened momentarily and Han, rewarded with a brief respite, gulped a lungful of air. The cloaked, rasping man stepped ever closer, shoes clicking menacingly on the grated floor.

"Kenobi" searing pain wrapped around his now bruised neck. "A friend." Han gasped again, oxygen rushing welcome through his body.

"Kill him, my dear." The shadow behind him hissed.

"Kenobi?" Small hands turned to tense balled fists at her side.

"... took so long... I'm... Sorry." Han gasped, eyes closing against the pull of the darkness which crept further into the edges of his vision.

"My Dear. Do it now."

xXx

"Death."

"What?" Han looked up from the map he and Chewbacca were studying.

"Nothing." Leia shook her head. Chewie let out a low moan of inquiry and tilted his massive head. Han had turned fully towards her and the sight of the two confused faces caused a small smile to break across her own face, despite everything. The night previous had been terrifying. Vader. Again. How long must he haunt her? She didn't hear him this time; loud and echoing across her subconscious. No, this time she could only feel the fear, the anger and the sheer terror of complete helplessness. And of course, Han. Her Han, he was there. She knew he was there, could feel it - somehow, impossible and yet, she knew it to be true. He had been standing in front of a monster. Dark and murderous. It had to be Vader, what other creature could it be?

It had taken her forever, finally she curled up at the headboard in Chewbacca's room, as he stood guard at the door. She argued - but really might as well have been reasoning with the door - she was not a child plagued with nightmares and she was perfectly fine, and really could sleep in the other room and he really didn't need to stand guard over her. That it had been a stupid dream and she was safe and completely fine. But, again much like how he was when Han had been taken from her after Bespin, he stood his ground and simply stated again that he wasn't leaving. Perhaps it was stupid and weak, but in truth, she did feel better with him there.

The expectant look on both faces hadn't changed when she refocused on them and she flushed slightly; embarrassed.

"Oh, I was just thinking. It's not important."

"Of death." Han stated, glancing away from her to draw a quick crooked circle on the map and connect several lines the large wookie had sketched in.

"Not originally, no." she placed a hand at her throat, feeling her steady pulse beat strong and fast under her fingers.

Chewbacca barked impatient.

"Fine. On Alderaan, a lily symbolized love and long life."

"Really?" Han asked halfheartedly and turned fully back to the table. She could feel both males losing interest quickly - this wasn't the conversation they thought she would start, obviously.

"Yes," her finger traced the outline of the building across the street from theirs on the dirty pane of glass.

"Really?" Han turned to face her again more adamant; a strange expression now on his face. "Because on Corellia, lilies are the flower of-"

"Death." She whispered, finishing his sentence and let the word hang again between them and she pressed both hands to the cold glass pane.

"Okay, I'll bite." He pushed away and stood up, handing the red tipped marker over to his co-pilot. "Why are we talking about flowers and life and death and what they mean?"

"My wedding flowers were all Corellian lilies. I didn't know. No one told me. I assumed - stupidly I suppose - that Alderaan and Corellia would see lilies the same way. But..." She trailed off for a moment, lost in her own thoughts. "They don't." She concluded, removing her commlink unit from the back pocket in her pants and - for the hundredth time in the last hour - turned it on and off before replacing it. No message. No Vima.

They were closer to finding the Jedi witch, Nik had a contact who had a contact who had seen her recently. Or something like that. Han didn't like it, but then - he didn't like much about being here the way they were. A smug smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he decided he much preferred the more beginning half of this adventure. The Coruscant part, at their home. In their bed... He cleared his throat and shifted, forcing his brain to stop wandering and reminiscing about the feel of her skin against his and the weight of her on top of him.

Han stood staring at her, at a loss, thoughts a tangled mess. His knowledge of ancient flower significance was sketchy at best, never had he needed to know the difference between cultural plant life before and certainly had no idea how to stop the haunted expression from creeping further onto his future wife's delicate face.

He tried a different tactic.

"Does it matter?" Leaning against the wall beside her, he couldn't help but notice the severe focus in her eyes, or the small fractures of stress flickering across her body, shoulders tensing, fingers white-tipped and pressed harshly on the glass.

"I hope not." Cryptic again, she closed her eyes.

xXx

It was small. Tiny. It flitted across her face for the briefest of moments only to disappear. But it was there. A spark of the woman he knew.

"Leia." He called to her again.

"Kenobi." The waif-like shadow of the woman he could have saved stared back at him, chin cocked ever so slightly, her tell. She was confused. A dangerous emotion given her current fragile state. "You know Kenobi?" her eyes narrowed in distrust, though the hummng in his ears lessened and the pressure around his throat gave way a fraction - enough to allow him a blessed breath.

"I did." his lungs burned.

Her head tilted further, now more intrigue then skepticism. Tension slackened further and he gasped again.

"He died. But he wanted me to find you." It was only a tiny bit of a lie. But that didn't matter. He needed to try.

"We killed him." Sadness clouded over her face, it was hugely misplaced when mixed with the death-grip she held over his life. But with that sadness, the invisible cord which held his throat relaxed further to a faint touch; still very much there, but now more a violent threat than anything else.

"No. They killed him, Leia. You didn't kill anyone." Angry now at everything which lay at his feet, he resorted to pleading.

"Yes, I have."

"Leia, please listen. I can get you out of here, if you want to leave. I'll help you - just like I promised Obi-Wan."

"I can't go home. We blew that up too."

His heart tightened.

"They did that!" He shouted, angry now. "You didn't! Vader and his piece of shit handler! Don't let them-"

"But, I killed him. He's gone."

"Who's gone?" Cold. He was suddenly very very cold.

"Vader. There could only be one of us." She whispered, the snap hiss of a red bladed lightsabre igniting at her side. The cord wrapped around his neck again, and she squeezed. "I killed him. Just as I will kill you."