Han had been emotional like that once too, but he'd shoved it so far down he didn't even know if he could access it anymore. It was probably in there, somewhere, but it had never served him to try to dredge it up. He could express what he needed to, most of the time, without having to tap into that deep well. And it was better if he didn't. But he could still see it reflected in his son and see the way he tried to hold back. He wanted something different for Ben - and wasn't that what every parent wanted? Something different, something better. He wanted Ben to be able to access those emotions in a good, natural, healthy sort of way; a way that he had never been able to master himself.
"It wasn't your fault, then," Han said. His son had still killed someone, probably more than one someone, but if he had been told to do it and led to believe that it was the right thing to do? Who was Han supposed to blame for that except the person who made him believe it was right. And, hell, how many people had Han killed without thinking twice about it, because he believed it was the right thing to do, or because he was defending himself. He couldn't very well judge the kid on that alone. "There should have been a louder voice - me, your mother, Luke, someone. There should have been someone to counteract that voice. And I don't suspect there was."
That one was on him. He could say it was because he didn't understand the Force, but did he need to understand that to try to understand his son? Probably not. And there it was, the mistake he'd made. He could do something about that now, try to make up for the past, and use this second chance for something worthwhile. He would.
He smiled softly and reached out to settle his hand on top of Ben's arm. It was a gentle gesture, and he hoped it came across as reassuring as he meant it. "If I go anywhere," he said, "then you're absolutely coming with me. Might be a crowded ship, but I promise."