Post "Star Wars".
Summary: After all the celebrations, Han and Luke mourn lost friends and
lovers, share their loneliness and more.
Excerpt:
He was exhausted. And he had started to doubt whether or not he would ever get to sleep again for the rest of his life. He had tossed enough to pull the edges of the bedclothing from the mattress and now lay on his stomach, head turned to one side, clutching the corner of the pillow and trying not to replay in his head the way the cockpit of his X-wing had glowed briefly from the explosion of Biggs's fighter. In the midst of the celebration following the destruction of the Death Star, it had been easy to be joyful. His stomach was filled with good food, his eyes filled with light and sound and music, and his ears with the lauds and admiration of others. And of course, Han had personally taken responsibility for the task of getting him drunk. But, he hadn't fought it that hard, and until he returned to his makeshift quarters on Yavin moon, he had enjoyed the pleasantly woozy feeling that had wreathed his mind, pulling a silk veil over everything he saw.