A/N: Written for imnothere24, for the Han and Leia Secret Santa 2016 on Tumblr! This story is set during the Star Wars Annual 2016 #02: Leia suffers severe injuries during a mission on Skorii-Lei and reaches the Millennium Falcon with the help of Pash Davane, a cynic former underwater engineer who has no love for either the Empire or the Rebellion. They barely escape the planet as they're chased by bounty hunters and stormtroopers… and just in time to save Leia's life. This is a small hurt/comfort-plus-UST vignette featuring Han tending to Leia's wounds.

Please consider faving and leaving a little comment if you read :D And if you haven't read the Star Wars Annual #2 yet, it's not really necessary that you do so to understand this story, but I recommend it because it's awesome.

Warnings: mentions of blood and wounds (nothing too graphic, I think, but better be safe)

As soon as they were in hyperspace, Han Solo hurried back to the crew quarters. He wouldn't have left the princess, having seen the extent of the damage; her diving suit had been soaked in blood in her arm and abdomen, but it was the second injury, once he'd uncovered it, the one that concerned him the most. Getting them off and away from Skorii-Lei had been his priority, though. No good saving her if they were all blown up by stormtroopers and bounty hunters a minute later.

Luke had retrieved the datacard that had brought them there from the woman–Pash, he'd told Han she was called–and was currently getting in touch with their base. Luke had also told him that Leia had passed out.

Inside the cabin, Han found Pash: she had peeled one of her yellow gloves off and was pressing the back of her hand against Leia's forehead.

'Fever's gone, at least,' Pash said, straightening up and looking over her shoulder at him. She was an impressive woman: tall, with muscular arms and red hair; husky and dangerous-looking, but not so much at the moment.

Han spared a glance at her before refocusing his sight on Leia, sprawled on the medical bunk. He grabbed two medpacs from an overhead compartment and threw one at Pash.

'You're bleeding,' he told her, already on his knees and working on opening the medpac he'd kept. ''Fresher's that way. If you need a change, guess I can spare a shirt and whatever else. You're gonna have to help yourself though; check the locker over there.' He stuck a thumb in that direction, while he kept pulling out everything he'd thought he'd need.

'Thanks,' he heard Pash say before she walked out into the corridor, leaving him alone with Leia.

He pressed an anesthetic hypospray just above the bigger wound–a gash that seemed to have been stitched up hastily at least twice, stretching from Leia's right hip to just above her bellybutton–and then laid a coldpack on her forehead. Leia stirred and opened her eyes.

'Didn't think I'd forgotten about you, Your Worship, did ya?' Han asked, giving her his most roguish grin. Her dark eyes found him and she smiled feebly at him.

'I didn't think much of anything for a while,' she answered. Han was pleased to hear her voice sounding less shaky, and for the fact that she didn't flinch when he started to cleanse the cut, indicating the anesthetic had kicked in. 'Except that I might not make it this time.'

Han didn't look at her as he continued his ministrations, applying some coagulant. Yeah, that was what he'd thought, too, when he'd seen her in Pash's arms, unconscious, pale and covered in blood.

'You're one tough cookie, Princess.' He covered the wound with a bacta patch and, once he'd made sure it was completely covered and not bleeding anymore, he grabbed a pair of scissors and started cutting her left sleeve off. 'You'll be up and bossing people around again in no time.'

Han grabbed a new bacta patch and bent over her once more: her second injury wasn't as severe as the one on her abdomen, but she still hissed in pain when he touched her. He tried to ignore the urge to sweep the wayward strands of hair off her brow and–

'Sorry,' Han offered, gritting his teeth. This wasn't the time to get any funny ideas.

'It's fine,' Leia said in a strangled voice. She took a deep breath and released it slowly through her nose. 'I don't expect some bantha brain hotshot to consider giving me another shot of anesthetic before handling a highly sensitive wound.'

When he was done applying the patch, he straightened up and regarded her with outrage.

'Bantha brain?' If she was trying to pick a fight to forget about the pain, Han was happy to oblige… but he was going to have fun with it. 'I seem to remember you holding on to this bantha brain hotshot's hand pretty damn tight, Your Pettiness.'

Leia blushed (or what passed for blushing, in her current post-blood-loss state), but didn't back down, answering with a dignified tone. 'It's surprising how scary it is to believe one is at their final moments. You'd hold on to anything that's close enough.'

'Sure. I think it took you nearly dying to admit you need me,' Han said, grabbing some bandages for her shoulder.

'And I thought I was the one who'd hit her head,' Leia countered, rolling her eyes.

'That wasn't the tearful "thank you for saving my life, Han" I expected,' he grumbled, applying another hypo before proceeding to bandage her shoulder up.

'Tearful, huh?' Leia asked as he turned her on her side as gently as he could to secure the end of the dressing. 'I don't know whom you were thinking of, but it wasn't me.'

Han scoffed. Yeah, right. If only that were so, his life would be so much simpler. Of that he was sure, if nothing else.

He finished up and settled Leia on her back again. He started shoving everything back into the medpac, silently cursing ungrateful princesses, when he felt a hand landing softly on his upper arm.

All traces of teasing and scorn gone from her face, she was looking openly at him as she said, 'Thanks, Han.'

He held her gaze for only a beat before breaking contact.

'No problem.' He stood up and pointed a finger at her. 'No getting up to boss anyone around for a few hours. Captain's orders.'

'Does that mean I can order people around from here?' she asked, faking innocence.

She was still too pale, too bloodied, too small in her torn oversized diving suit, but the smartass smile and sharp tongue were the same Leia he knew.

'No bossing anyone around. It's bad for your… uh…'

'Blood pressure?' she suggested.

'Yeah. My blood pressure.'

Leia sighed. 'Fine, Captain. I'm going to take a nap then, if that's all right with you.'

'Go ahead,' Han said. He walked towards the hatch and paused just before exiting, turning back to look at Leia. Her eyes were already closed, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She should be safe until they got back to base and she could get to the medcenter. He'd check the wounds for infection in a few hours and tell her—no, get Luke to talk her into using a crutch when she got up. The kid would ask her all gentle-like and she wouldn't be able to say no. If Han suggested it, she might refuse, just because how dare he tell her what to do. And besides, he couldn't keep caring. He had to stop. Hell, he should have stopped caring eons ago, because he had to leave and caring made leaving harder. People who ran away couldn't afford to care about anything or anyone besides themselves.

The sound of Leia's voice broke into his thoughts.

'What?'

'Pash,' she repeated, eyes still closed. 'I said that you can trust her.' Han noticed a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. 'I think you'll like her.'

'Uh-huh.' He didn't have a clue about what she meant by that, but it didn't matter. Pash seemed like someone who didn't care about anyone but herself, too. Usually. Until she'd met Leia. It sounded awfully familiar.

(And she hadn't even been around Luke long enough!)

Yeah, maybe Han would like Pash. And maybe he could ask her what was it about the princess that got past every self-survival instinct they had and made them care so damn much.