A Dysfunctional Family

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"I didn't think he'd ever leave," Han muttered as they all stared at the door. Vader had just stormed through, leaving Luke alone with Leia and Han.

Of course, it had been all Leia's doing. The moment he'd woken up and she'd seen he was coherent enough to converse, she'd turned on Vader, demanding 'alone time' like he'd had. Luke thought he would say no, but... Leia was Leia. After an explosive argument, she'd managed to win an hour for themselves.

"He's pissed," Luke commented dryly. He could practically feel his father sulking from wherever he'd holed up.

Darth Vader. Sulking. He had a feeling his father had all sorts of surprises waiting for him.

"I know," Leia replied, crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed next to him. She took his good hand in her own, and he squeezed it.

Force, it felt so good to finally have her there. Her presence had been strong in the meditation dream, but now that they were together again...it felt like their presences were intermingling, communicating in ways that no words could ever do justice. The emotion that flooded that bond...somehow was stronger than that of his bond with Vader. The strong sense of Leia , and her relief and joy at finally having him back, gave him a sort of energy boost that he sorely needed.

"Is he ever not angry?" Han sighed, pulling up a chair to sit with them. "It's a miracle I'm still alive."

"He must not hate you that much, then," Luke said.

"Oh, ha ha. Very funny." Han lifted a brow. Luke took a moment to absorb the sight of his best friend. He hadn't seen him since Hoth...well no, that wasn't true. He'd technically seen Boba Fett floating his carbonite body away, though he hadn't realized it at the time. "Anyway. Enough about Darth Moody. How ya feelin, kid?"

He'd asked him the exact same question, in the exact same way, with just enough lightness in his tone to conceal the real concern there. And his signature vaguely-insulting nicknames...he'd always found them mildly amusing, and it was good to hear him use one again. Even if Darth Moody was a nickname he was certain Vader would try to kill him for.

He shoved the last dark thought away. They were together again. It was...extremely different circumstances, but they were together. That's what mattered now.

"Like I was hit by a speeder," Luke replied honestly. He couldn't lift himself up, but he was propped up anyway using a bunch of those the stupid pillows.

Han's smile faltered. "That was probably the one thing that didn't happen to you."

"I know." Luke winced. "I'm sorry."

"What're you apologizing to me for, kid?" Han shrugged. "I mean, it's only me who constantly has to come save you...what are we on now, three you owe me?"

"No, we're still at two. I did try to come save you on Bespin."

Han made a show of thinking about it. "Fine. Two. And I'm going to make sure I call in the favors on something good."

Luke made a face. "If I let you up it to three, will you help me get these pillows off my bed?"

Han burst out laughing, and Leia shook her head.

"See, I told you he'd hate it," she said with a pointed look.

"Oh I had no doubt, Sweetheart."

"But you're the one who encouraged the behavior by counting the pillows." She reached under the cover and pulled one of the pillows out, holding it up to inspect it.

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