***You might need tissues for this one***

Why did he keep all this junk? she wondered as she sifted through the first of two small crates that sat on the floor of her personal quarters. At first glance it all seemed like junk.

Despite changing hands six or seven times since it had been stolen from him, the Millennium Falcon had still contained an overwhelming amount of Han Solo's things. Chewbacca had crated most of it and left it at the Resistance Base before setting off for Ach-To with Rey. With an excellent memory, he didn't need things to remind him of his late captain...his best friend. The Falcon was enough. He just thought Han's life mate might want a few of his things for sentimental value. Humans were like that sometimes.

General Leia Organa had never been a packrat. Very little was kept unless it had some practical use. She didn't like dwelling in the past.

And yet there she sat, perched on the edge of her bed, sifting through various bits and pieces that her late husband had either deemed worthy enough to keep or forgotten to throw away. Thus far it seemed to be the latter. Anything of immediate use or value had already been filched by one of the Falcon's part-time owners.

There was a hydrospanner that had rusted over, half a bottle of Corellian brandy, and a scuffed old boot that was missing its mate. Ironic, thought Leia with a sad half-smile. Here I am missing my mate.

It really hadn't been all that bad, as Han himself had reflected only days before. While Leia's marriage to the former smuggler had proven to be a challenge, there was never anything bad enough to separate over until it had happened. 'It', of course, being the loss of their only son and the exile of Luke. Before that they had been happy.

There had been arguments of course. Leia's natural but stern leadership at times clashed badly with Han's casual swagger. Both were highly independent and ended up disagreeing on almost everything, from where to put furniture to when to have children.

Leia paused to shake her head. She had been unsure if she even wanted any natural children. With her legacy and lineage, it was risky business. The danger of one of them turning to the Dark Side was always there. Han had never understood why...until it was too late.

Such thoughts were pushed aside. It's in the past now. Move on. So Leia reached into the crate to pull out the next item. She almost smiled when she saw what it was. Keplicks? Where did he find these? Keplicks had been Han's favorite cookie. The man had complained loudly when they had been discontinued some ten years before and bought several extra boxes. Leia, upon checking the expiration date, quickly tossed the dusty box into the garbage bin and blessed the fact that it was still sealed. There was probably enough life growing in there to declare it a legal colony.

Leia continued sifting through the box, finding several other expired food containers and another bottle of brandy...empty this time. That and a broken droid caller joined everything else in the trash. That took care of the first crate.

The next didn't look particularly encouraging. Upon reaching into it, Leia felt her throat close. She was glad she had chosen to do this alone.

Anyone else might have mistaken it for an old rag. It had been a gift from the Ewok shaman, Logray, as a gift for Han and Leia's firstborn; a warm fur blanket to wrap him in. Half of the fur had worn off and the item was stiff. Ben had kept the blanket until his fifth birthday, cutting his teeth on it, sleeping with it against his cheek every night. Leia had assumed the item had been thrown out.

The woman's hands shook as she held the tatted fur. Ben, why? Why? She was about to throw it out when her fingers found something wrapped up in it. The next moment Leia pulled out what seemed to be an empty frame. She recognized it an old holoprojector. It recorded a short video clip and then projected it over and over in a loop. Leia switched it on with interest.

The clip brought a wistful, heartbroken smile to the woman's worn face. It was another relic from Han and Leia's past life together, back when they had been a family. They were posing for a professional holo. Ben, just beginning to show his stubborn side, had been seven or perhaps eight years old. He hadn't wanted to smile. So, Han had stealthily started tickling the boy under his arms. After much resistance Ben had burst out laughing. The holo had been taken at just the right moment. Father and son were caught in mid-giggle, Ben trying to push Han away, while Leia looked on trying to scold and failing miserably.

Ben had been sent to Luke's Jedi Academy the next day.

Leia felt the vise of regret return to her throat, and she took a deep breath to will it away. For a moment she was angry. This holo had gone missing years before. Leia had never known Han had kept it. But the anger was short-lived. Han had loved his son to the last. He had wanted to keep something of Ben around despite his claim to have given up.

The frame was switched off and set on Leia's nightstand. She would keep it. It would join the holo that had been taken at her and Han's wedding that, until recently, had been stuffed in a drawer. If only it had recorded sound...

Leia cleared her throat of the lump and tossed the worn fur blanket into the garbage bin before reaching in for the next item. An amused smile came to her face as she recognized an old deck of Sabaac cards. Han had not gambled very often as a family man, but he was always up for a friendly game. He wasn't above stacking the deck, so could hardly find anyone to play with. Leia remembered one game in which Threepio had been impulsively bet and then promptly lost. What an argument they'd had about that! The new owner ended up giving the droid back because he talked too much.

The cards, without much consideration, were set aside. Perhaps one of the young pilots would like them.

The next item Leia pulled out was one of Han's powderfly-eaten old vests. Again the General shook her head. Han's taste in clothing had never changed. He always went for the comfortable and practical. Only with a little nagging would he consent to wearing something nice. Then he looked very handsome indeed.

As Leia pulled the vest out of the crate, something relatively heavy slid out of it and fell with a chink to the floor. Leia, frowning, bent over to look. She recognized it immediately and picked it up off the floor.

It was Han's old Alliance Service Medal for Valor, the one he had won during the Battle of Yavin. Leia gasped in shock. She hadn't seen it in over thirty-one years and assumed it had been lost long ago. The memory of awarding both Han and Luke these medals was still fresh. Leia could still hear the trumpets playing, could still see Luke's wide grin and Han's playful wink as she ran her fingers over the canvas and the sunburst pattern of the heavy alloy.

What to do with it? Leia didn't want to bog down her quarters with too many things in case the Resistance had to make a quick getaway- not unlikely now that the First Order knew where to find them -but throwing it out seemed borderline criminal. This was a part of history.

Later, she decided, setting the medal on her nightstand next to the holoprojecting frame. The vest was tossed into the garbage before the one remaining item was pulled from the crate. This also brought a wistful smile. It was one of Han's shirts; quite old from the looks of it. Threadbare patches covered holes under both arms, sweat and grease stains that even the harshest scrubbing could not get rid of streaked various spots, and both collar and cuffs were frayed.

It was Han's, all right. He had always kept his shirts until they fell apart, usually wearing the old ones to work on something messy. This one must have been worn recently. It was unwashed.

Something wet stung Leia's eyes as she impulsively brought the shirt to her nose. There it was, that unique combination of engine grease, cheap soap, sweat, and something else that could only belong to Han. Memories from the last thirty years returned unbidden at just that simple smell. Growing close during the long ride to Bespin...falling asleep in each other's arms after the celebration on Endor...sobbing into Han's shoulder when word of the massacre at Luke's academy had reached them...and then, finally, their last embrace before Han had gone off to help destroy Starkiller Base.

It was not often that Leia cried. She had not even cried for Alderaan. There hadn't been time. This time she wanted to cry. She needed to cry. And so, for the first time since her son had been lost to the Dark Side, General Leia Organa bowed her head and let the tears fall.

She'd never stopped loving him. Even with all the heartbreak they had been through, Leia had loved Han as much during their last goodbye as she had when he had been lowered into the carbon freezing chamber. But I never told him, she thought, bringing the old shirt close to her chest. I wanted to tell him I still loved him. Why didn't I?

For a moment Leia felt crushed by her sadness. All her strength seemed to leave her and all she felt was soul-penetrating hole. She lay down on her bed and sobbed, releasing every bit of pent-up grief that she had been holding in for so long.

I still love you, Han. I always will. I love you...

Somewhere, a half-heard, half wished for voice whispered "I know" in Leia's ear.