[ they've pulled the impossible and stolen victory at the last second. it might be thirty years ago. everyone aboard has some bone to pick with him. the sense of déjà vu threatens to knock him back.
if he could distance himself from the situation, he would understand. they've dealt a blow that the first order will be feeling for years. but the resistance is still struggling, crippled further by the loss of the republic. on board, they carry one of the key members of the first order, a powerful once-jedi who cannot be easily restrained and with whom half the passengers have a personal vendetta.
it had been an even half split, except han has never held to democratic ideals aboard his ship. he is captain of the falcon. what he says goes. anyone who has a problem with that can float home. finn and rey remained vehemently against the idea, finn more so. rey had looked between him and ben with sharp, seeing eyes in a way that made han certain she knew. han ignored them while he made the preparations for lightspeed, ignored chewbacca's soft grumbled questions. for once, he focused entirely on the controls wanting to get home.
he had lost everything: his son, his wife, his ship. then two crazy kids flew the falcon back into his hands. he reunited with his wife ( still as beautiful as she ever was and he still as big of a fool in love. ) and his son has returned.
the moment the ship makes the jump, he vacates his seat at the cockpit. he passes a hand along the walls while he walks. the falcon hums contentedly. the girl did a good job with her. with a little effort and a lot of love, the falcon will be flying as well as she ever did. it'll be something to keep them all occupied while they figure out their next move.
but he's getting ahead of himself. when he steps into the small space, han takes in ben's form. he had known his boy happy, smug, frustrated, angry. it was that last one that he could not handle, as quick to anger as he is and as impotent as he had felt to cut through that mounting rage. he thought nothing could be worse than to see his boy grow more and more discontent with each passing day. the little boy who was toddling after him as soon as he learned to walk, who would mimic him in all he did, whom he would sit on his lap aboard the falcon and guide his hands over the control panel so ben would love the rush of flying as much as he did.
that was before he came face to face with his son's anguish.
the hand that drops on ben's shoulder is heavily callused and not as strong as it once was. but the warm squeeze is as steady as the ship around them. han chooses to remain standing, silent a long time until, ]
I'm proud of you. [ abrupt. quiet. the words worn from the many times he turned them over, polished them, wished he had spoken them before. ] What you're doing…it takes a lot of guts.
no subject
if he could distance himself from the situation, he would understand. they've dealt a blow that the first order will be feeling for years. but the resistance is still struggling, crippled further by the loss of the republic. on board, they carry one of the key members of the first order, a powerful once-jedi who cannot be easily restrained and with whom half the passengers have a personal vendetta.
it had been an even half split, except han has never held to democratic ideals aboard his ship. he is captain of the falcon. what he says goes. anyone who has a problem with that can float home. finn and rey remained vehemently against the idea, finn more so. rey had looked between him and ben with sharp, seeing eyes in a way that made han certain she knew. han ignored them while he made the preparations for lightspeed, ignored chewbacca's soft grumbled questions. for once, he focused entirely on the controls wanting to get home.
he had lost everything: his son, his wife, his ship. then two crazy kids flew the falcon back into his hands. he reunited with his wife ( still as beautiful as she ever was and he still as big of a fool in love. ) and his son has returned.
the moment the ship makes the jump, he vacates his seat at the cockpit. he passes a hand along the walls while he walks. the falcon hums contentedly. the girl did a good job with her. with a little effort and a lot of love, the falcon will be flying as well as she ever did. it'll be something to keep them all occupied while they figure out their next move.
but he's getting ahead of himself. when he steps into the small space, han takes in ben's form. he had known his boy happy, smug, frustrated, angry. it was that last one that he could not handle, as quick to anger as he is and as impotent as he had felt to cut through that mounting rage. he thought nothing could be worse than to see his boy grow more and more discontent with each passing day. the little boy who was toddling after him as soon as he learned to walk, who would mimic him in all he did, whom he would sit on his lap aboard the falcon and guide his hands over the control panel so ben would love the rush of flying as much as he did.
that was before he came face to face with his son's anguish.
the hand that drops on ben's shoulder is heavily callused and not as strong as it once was. but the warm squeeze is as steady as the ship around them. han chooses to remain standing, silent a long time until, ]
I'm proud of you. [ abrupt. quiet. the words worn from the many times he turned them over, polished them, wished he had spoken them before. ] What you're doing…it takes a lot of guts.