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Han's reasoning went like this: nobody made a map without expecting someone to follow it. Pirate treasure left on a desert planet or prisoner locked in a cell, the person who made the map and put the map in a place where it could be found was not someone who wanted the location to stay hidden from everyone. He, because there was no question who made this one, only wanted it to be followed by the right people.
In his younger days, Han would have always considered himself the right person, be that for getting the treasure, freeing the prisoner (for a nice reward), or what have you. He'd been through too much since then to make the same assumption now.
Which was why he'd brought a ringer with him.
"How's the chair?" he asked Leia.
"Needs repair." She used to lounge as easily in the Falcon's cockpit sipping bitter caf as she might in a palatial apartment eating iced plums. Now her back was straight, and her eyes focused on the swirl of hyperspace. Han's eye noticed the changes in the upholstery, the shot stitching and poor repairs. He ran an absent hand over the panel, mentally promising his girl to get her fixed up.
Chewie agreed with the assessment. Their ship needed some tender love and care. It was a damn miracle those two kids had found it on Jakku and brought it to them, and Han owed them big. They were currently back at D'Qar babysitting the other needy recipient of some love and care, wild-eyed and wounded from his own bad decisions, something Han related to all too well. There was so much to deal with there. They'd deal with it best as a full family.
Han flipped the switch, dropping them out of hyperspace. The planet they approached was watery, boasting few land masses. The map led here, but was there anything to find?
He glanced back. Leia's face had gone distant and slack, lost in her own mind as she reached out with the Force. Without looking at Han, she nodded once.
"Just let me know where to park."
Her vision cleared enough for him to read her expression. Silently, he stood and let Leia take the controls. She slid into the seat with an ease he was nearly jealous of, then piloted the ship to a neat landing on a lonely atoll in the middle of the surging seas.
Chewie performed the landing checks, then told the two of them to go fetch Luke. Han met Leia's eyes, saw the fear and worry and hope he knew were in his own, then followed her down the ramp. Leia had a lightsaber at her belt, not the nice one she made herself which Han hadn't seen in years, but that first one Luke used, the one Vader had used before they were born. Maz had been storing it for years and never said a word to either of them, but she'd handed it over without question to Rey and then Finn.
Han shook his head. He might have been around all this Jedi stuff for more than half his life. That didn't mean he had to follow any of it.
Leia climbed the steep hill, and Han huffed behind her, watching her. She'd grown even tougher in the intervening years, honing what had already been razor-sharp edges to a fine plasma line. No wonder these Resistance types fell into line behind her. Han himself had to resist the urge to salute when she cut him a hard glance.
She ignored him now, focused on her destination. Han made out the figure standing near the top of the hill, the high cliff overlooking the sea. A lump filled his throat. He didn't need the Force to know.
"Found your map," Leia called out when she was close enough to be heard over the cries of the seabirds. "You made it hard enough."
Luke didn't reply.
"I thought, Luke went off because he needs some time alone. It was awful, what happened to all those kids. He needs space. I gave you space. And you stayed gone. But you left a map, half of it in Artoo, half with your friend. Overdramatic, but I expect that from you."
Han heard the fire in her words, and the steel. She'd flailed in pain after Ben had fallen and Luke hadn't been there, and he'd felt the same. The two of them had tried to be strong for one another, but the three of them had always found their strength together. Without Luke to balance their push and pull, they hadn't been able to hold each other steady and they'd both flown away.
But that was then. Han had no use for clinging to the past. He called out, a little out of breath, "He always was kind of a drama queen. Remember Endor?"
And finally, Luke turned around. His hair had gone grayer, and the lines were deeper on his face than Leia's. A million emotions swirled on his face. Han couldn't feel any of them but he watched Leia stagger back a step under the blow. Then she blinked and stomped forward, thrusting her arms around her brother until he embraced her back.
"You're coming back with us," she said, and would brook no argument.
"Leia, I can't," Luke said into her hair as Han stepped closer. "After Ben…."
"You and Ben can argue it out when we get back." The stubborn tone in her voice was impossible to ignore. "Then Ben and I can argue it out, and Ben and Han can have their turn. Also half the people I work with want his head. We'll deal with them together."
Luke pulled back, looking at her face, seeking the lie he had to know wasn't there. The two of them didn't know how to lie to each other, not with that weird bond.
Finally, Luke looked at Han. "You have to know I can't go back."
Han snorted. He could hear the defeat creeping into Luke's voice, and he knew it was a willing loss. Neither of them could say no to Leia when she'd decided something, and they all knew it. Half a dozen smart remarks ran through his brain, filtered before they hit his mouth. "Come home," he said instead. They were the only words that had mattered with Ben, and the only ones that mattered now. "We miss you."
Luke held out a single moment longer, years of doubt and grief and self-blame in front of his eyes, but Leia still held him, and Han stepped closer, embracing them both like he'd always done. He felt the struggle melt from Luke's bones like a sickness, an oil he shed to leave behind in this wet, sad place. His mouth met Leia's in a gentle touch, which broke only for him to turn to Han and press his lips to his. For a moment, they were back home, really home, all the problems of the galaxy far away and the only question was if they should get dinner before or after tumbling into bed for an hour or two.
Bringing Luke home wouldn't fix everything just as bringing Ben home hadn't. They did need to have those arguments. The things Ben had done couldn't be undone, nor forgiven in a day, and the stars alone knew what had happened that last day between him and Luke. Rebuilding was hard and meant work Han hadn't prepared himself for.
He squeezed his arms, feeling the two of them press closer to him. Worth it.