Summary: Post-ESB, Pre-ROTJ. Han/Leia. Angst-a-licious. Yeah. My summaries need to die a painful death.
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. Do I really have to put this on EVERY SINGLE ONE?
A/N: Thanks to millpzonesyou/TFKAK for sort-of betaing. Haha, Paris! You didn't get to read this one! Will not be posted at LP's boards, for fear of death by RogueSticks. Also, if you read this, SuP3R G1R, yes, I don't know why or how, but I'm on a BIG "writing run." Current rate: a viggy every two days.:)
I only have one good picture of him.
I got Luke a holo-cam of his birth-date a few years ago. He'd been ecstatic, taking holos of anything that moved. During an assembly, he even got one of Mon Mothma and Dodonna.
He got three of Han.
In one, Chewie is giving Han one of his famous hugs, squeezing him until he almost snaps. Han's face is squished against the Wookiee and his feet are dangling ten centimeters from the floor.
The second picture is a fuzzy close-up. Han usually tried to avoid the holo-cam, but for some reason in this holo he grabbed the device and tried to take a picture of the inside of his throat. He probably did it just to annoy Luke.
The last one is mine. Luke gave it to me. It's a picture of Han and me, his arm draped over my shoulder. He's grinning devilishly at me and I'm rolling my eyes but secretly trying to suppress a grin. I remember that moment. He made some joke about the high council. It was funny, but, as I am a member to the high council, naturally I couldn't approve.
I like this holo because we're both happy. There are so few moments that any of us are truly happy anymore. There's always the fact that the galaxy need saving. The galaxy won't wait. Run to catch up if you can, but don't get left behind. Well, there's only so long you can run before you collapse.
I think I've collapsed.
I just don't care enough any more. my homeworld is gone. I can't be bothered fighting the people that did it. Millions--billions are crying out for help. I can't muster enough passion to give it to them.
I still fight, I suppose, but it's not what it used to be. There's no fire, no heat, no drive behind my actions. i used to be motivated, on my toes. Now, the fight is mechanical, cold, lifeless. It's a matter of habit, fighting just to do something, just to keep my mind off him. I'm wallowing, floating listlessly, in the currents of emptiness. I'm becoming dead to the universe.
I just want him back.
That's the only thing that propels me forward: the desire to see him. The hope that we can get him back, somehow. The thought of touching him again, smiling with him again. Because if I can get him back, maybe I can also get that holo back.
Maybe if everything's like it was in that holo, I won't feel so hollow.