Disclaimer: Disney's galaxy - la la la.

AN: Just a little something I thought deserved a bit more attention.

"Daddy?"

They had been happily peaceful for the last half of the evening. The boys were sprawled across the living room floor, quietly building a growing fleet of model X-wings. Jaina had plunged herself down on the couch beside him, after retrieving his datapad from his office had been contentedly playing Ewok Village for the last hour. He had was startled away from the smashball game by the small voice beside him, he looked down. Big brown eyes, narrowed slightly in concentration, stared back at him.

"Why is Mom so sad. He said he was sorry."

"Sorry, run that by me again." Han replied, muting the game, swiveling himself to face her.

"He said Mom is very angry, but not at us. At him. And he said he was sorry."

"Who said? Who's sorry?"

"The man." Anakin replied, speaking for the first time since he and Jacen started building their fleet. Jacen sat up.

"Okay, from the beginning. Where did you hear this? Who is your mom mad at?"

"He said that he had told Mom that he was sorry. But Mom was too sad to listen. He seemed really sad, too." Anakin added, twirling a tiny laser cannon mount between his fingers.

"Jaina, Sweetheart, who said this to you?" He asked quietly, a chill of tension shot up his spine.

"Grandpa did."

Han sat stunned. Three small, slightly worried faces watched him.

Grandpa.

It was an idea which should have been innocent, lighthearted, full of warmth and love, but was instead too wrapped up in evil; twisted and battered by betrayal and pain.

Grandpa.

The smallest idea of that word sent adrenaline and tension coursing through his blood, chills swept across his skin causing the hair on his arms to stand at attention. He managed to keep his breathing normal. It wouldn't do to frighten them. They had no idea. Shifting his weight slightly and gathering Jaina to him, relaxing slightly under the calming weight of her against his chest.

No one spoke.

Anakin's eyes were glued to his. Jacen shifted nervously, carefully focused on his sister.

Seeming to sense the tension radiating from her father, she settled comfortably to him, leaning her cheek against his shoulder.

"Have you-" he stared to ask, but the words caught in his throat. Coughing stiffly to cover himself, he stared again. "Have you seen your Grandpa a lot?"

Anakin answered first, glancing at his brother quickly as he did. "He's only been able to come a few times."

"Are you mad?" Jacen's voice, small with worry, whispered from his place on the floor.

"Of course not. Come here," he held out an arm, keeping the other tucked around his small daughter, and waiting for the two boys to join him. "I need you all to listen to me very closely, and I need you to remember what I say, can you all do that for me?" All three children nodded carefully, eyes steady on their father.

"Firstly, I am absolutely not mad, at any of you. Okay?" Again they nodded. "Secondly, I love the three of you and your mother, very very much, more than anything." Han took a breath and continued. "And lastly, while I believe you guys are still too young to learn what happened between your mom and her father - your Grandpa - I can tell you that your mom is the strongest, bravest person I have ever known."

"Did he hurt her feelings?" Anakin asked, large blue eyes wide with worry. Han managed a nod. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to tell his kids of the horrors suffered by Leia at the hands of Vader. Tightening his arm around Jaina's small shoulders, he tasted the bile that crept up his throat.

Jacen's fists balled and he clenched his jaw - a very Solo trait - as Leia often pointed out. That wasn't right though. He knew as well as anyone what anger could do to to person. Even, perhaps, appropriate anger.

"But," Han continued carefully after a moment. "That doesn't mean we want you to be angry at him. That's the last thing we want. Okay?" Jaina looked up at him, then across to her brothers and nodded. "Alright, go get washed up and ready for bed."

Following the children out he leaned heavily in the doorway. He'd have to tell Leia. Tonight. Gods knew how she would take it, this was supposed to be a safe place, for all of them, but the past always has a way of catching up with them. It was frustrating and unnerving, he sighed and walking over to the kitchen to place a bottle of wine in the cooling unit. How was he supposed to protect them from a ghost?