5 Times Force Ghosts Interacted with the Living (Luke, Leia/Han, Rey, Poe/Finn) (Anakin)

Luke

During his self-appointed exile Luke had had a lot of time to think. The quiet sounds of waves and wind had stretched around his entire island, around the entire planet. He had had years to sit and contemplate every single decision he'd ever made. Every action, every word, every emotion. After a while he'd discovered one very important thing: his training of Ben had been flawed, and he himself was a flawed teacher.

Having only been trained a measly three days with the last true Jedi master, he certainly couldn't call himself one. And what business did a barely trained man have trying to mold and train a younger man into a Jedi master.

It had been his own flawed teachings that had ruined young Ben Solo. His own fault that the younger man had turned to the Dark side.

And now, after returning to the Resistance with Rey, it was apparent that Leia's loss was also his own fault. His overconfidence, his belief that he was refined enough in the ways of the Jedi to teach Ben had caused inconceivable hurt for not only Leia, and Han, but also for the young ex-Stormtrooper Finn, the pilot Poe Dameron, Rey herself and every other individual who had lost a loved one or home due to Kylo Ren's actions.

In short, Luke was the cause of the second coming of the Empire, of the power force running behind the First Order.

It is for this very reason that Luke answers with an emotionless 'no' when asked if he would train Rey in the ways of the Force. His answer had caused a small uproar between those deigned important enough to be at the meeting, with Poe Dameron's face screwing up into a snarl and Finn's entire body tensing like he would jump across the table and go for Luke's throat.

Through Leia's angry questions and the general vibe of 'well fuck you too Mr. Jedi' coming from the ex-Stormtrooper and Dameron, Luke found his gaze caught in Rey's own.

She didn't look angry, confused or hurt, simply resigned. Her brow crinkled up in the tell-tale sign of deep thinking as she left the room some minutes later, trailing a fiercely arguing duo.

Luke thought nothing of her rather odd reaction to being told she couldn't train until two months later when he stumbled upon her in a section of warehouse rather off the beaten path of most of the Resistance fighters.

Rey was standing perfectly still in the middle of the old warehouse, and Luke might have missed her presence if the Force hadn't suddenly sang in his ears and drawn his attention to her as she pointed one hand at a broken old X-Wing prototype in a corner.

The Force continued to sing in his ears, creeping up half steps and discordant notes, a jumble of irrelevant rhythms.

The battered X-Wing shifted, and the Force hit a clear resonant note and stuck with it as the old ship followed the motions of Rey's hand higher and higher off of the ground. The Force singing beautiful notes in his ears as he watched Rey deposit the X-Wing in another corner gently.

As she turned to another old X-Wing Luke hurried away, practically running down the halls to his quarters, the door sliding shut behind him even as he stumbled to a stop by his table.

Luke all but collapsed into his chair, his elbows resting on his table and his head sinking forward to lay in his hands. She was good, he'd give her that, especially for an un-trained Force user. He could feel the Force tugging him towards her, had been feeling it since she'd first offered him his lightsaber back on the mountain.

But he couldn't train another, wouldn't. Not after Ben, not after all of the destruction he'd caused, the lives he'd ruined by not being good enough, he couldn't take the chance, he couldn't see another student fall into the Dark, his fault—

"Not your fault, young Luke. In this case, it was not the teacher, but the student who is at fault."

Luke's head jerked out of his hands so fast his neck cracked, but that was nothing because Obi-Wan Kenobi was sitting across from him. Luke's hands reached out, intent on a hug before floundering as the Force clanged a distressed harmony of strings and drums across his mind.

Taking a closer look he realized this was not the Obi-Wan he knew, but rather a younger version, with slightly fewer scars and wrinkles. Obi-Wan's body shimmered slightly, and his eyes, though younger and clearer, were clouded by more misery than Luke remembered seeing there.

Obi-Wan's Force ghost took advantage of his stunned silence to offer him a charming smile. "It's been a long while since we've last met, Luke."

Luke pulled himself together, tried to fit every emotion, or the few he was supposed to have, into words. "I'm sorry you died." Even after all these years, diplomacy was still mostly Leia's thing.

"Well," Obi-Wan's smile turned into a rather lopsided, if weary grin. "That does tend to happen when one is cut through with a lightsaber." His eyes focused sharply on Luke's mechanical hand. "Or at least when one is hit in important places."

Luke stared at his hand, watching the mechanics turn and click as his hand opens and un-opens. What a difference everything can make.

"You've grown into a fine Jedi master, Luke." Obi-Wan drew him from his thoughts, and he was surprised to see a rather proud look on the ghost's face. "You defeated the Empire, and the Dark side. I could not be more proud to have taught you, even for only a few days."

CLUNK!

Luke slammed his mechanical hand on the table. "But what good has it done me? How can you be proud of me when I singlehandedly trained the newest bane of the Resistance?" Luke gritted his teeth together. "I failed as a teacher, my training ended with Ben turning to the Dark side! This, all of this, all of the pain and loss and destruction, all of it is my fault!"

"Do you really think that?" Obi-Wan's inquisitive eyes pinned Luke to his seat. "Because I think that you did and are doing the best that you can with what you have." Obi-Wan sighed and ran a hand over his head. "If anyone, it's my fault, I was stupid, overconfident and too stricken by exile to look at a situation correctly. I should have trained you earlier, should have left you something more than, well, nothing…" The ghost trailed off, his eyes staring down into his lap.

"Obi-Wa—"

"Luke," Obi-Wan's serious gaze cut him off. "The point is, it isn't your fault. Nothing about Ben Solo's choice to turn to the Dark side was your fault. It is what happened, and whoever's fault it is, it can't be undone." The glimmer on Obi-Wan became more pronounced, and his body began to lose some of its solid quality.

Obi-Wan leant across the table, arms crossed in a serious fashion. "So the choice now is whether you will sit here and plan to face an evil you know you can't beat alone, or to train another Padawan in hopes that she will become even greater than you ever could have imagined."

Obi-Wan's Force ghost had almost completely disappeared by the time Luke managed to find his words.

"But what if you're wrong? What if it is my fault, I'll poison another Padawan?" He asked desperately.

Obi-Wan's still sharp eyes focused on Luke's. "Because I took the same chance with you, and you have yet to disappoint."

And with that the Force ghost faded completely out of view, leaving Luke to his thoughts. The next morning he searched Rey out in the rush for breakfast and informed her that he would be willing to train her. She gave him a single searching look, and the Force swept around him, answering the young woman's questions, before she smiled and accepted.

Luke mused to himself, as she walked back towards her ex-Stormtrooper and pilot friends and the Force wove songs around the trio of fighters, that the Force must have a thing for unstable threesomes.

Leia

In the moments after Han's death, Leia had had no time to grieve. The aftermath of the battle, and of the discoveries made through the young ex-Stormtrooper Finn and the Jakku girl Rey had kept her occupied. Every waking moment was spent organizing and reorganizing the Resistance's defenses, double checking supply counts and muddling through any data Finn had managed to give them on the inner workings of the First Order.

But the sense of loss, the feeling of Han's life stuttering and then simply flickering out from lightyears away haunted her thoughts. It had taken all of Leia's self-control to not break down in the control room the second it happened, but people had been depending on her. When Rey had stepped off of the battered Millennium Falcon shell-shocked and guilty it had taken a piece of Leia's soul to not lean farther into their tight hug and sob.

But now, almost three weeks later the Resistance was doing well, Finn was awake from his lightsaber induced coma, and Rey had messaged just a few hours previous of her success in finding Skywalker. For the first time since the discovery of the hidden map to Luke, Leia had a night off.

The moment she'd gotten off duty she'd retreated to her private rooms, dug out two bottles of Corellian whiskey and begun to make the journey from 'sober' to 'so drunk she couldn't think'. The very thought of not thinking had kept her awake most nights.

It wasn't until the first bottle was well past half empty that her shoulders began to lose their tension, and after another few minutes she was well and truly drunk enough to slouch across her table and cry.

Her sobs were loud at first, but became quieter and quieter as her hands left her empty glass and gripped her face. Even back when Han had been frozen there had been hope, but now, now there was nothing but an empty space in the Force and a son she didn't know if she could still love.

"Why?" Leia mumbled despairingly. "Why did you have go and do something as stupid as dying?"

She poured herself another two fingers of whiskey and knocked it back. The coarse burn simmering to nothing in comparison to her hurt and rage.

Leia put her head back in her hands.

"I should never have told you to bring Ben home," Leia sobbed. "I-I didn't think he'd kill you, oh Han," She stifled another sob. "I know he's our son, but how could he—how could he do something so vile? I don't think I can forgive him for this."

"I don't think I have any love for him to come home to." She ran her hands through her hair, the bottles of whiskey taunting her from the tabletop.

"Don't say that, General."

Leia jumped out of her seat at the sudden foreign voice, her hands going for her blaster; but she'd left her weapon by the door, and a full bottle of Corellian whiskey would knock anyone on their ass.

When she managed to uncross her eyes and re-establish her balance from the sudden fall, she was greeted with the sight of a shimmering blue man seated across her table from her. His hair and beard were streaked with glimmers of ginger, and he gave her a rather charming, if patronizing smile.

"Oh, please, take a seat." One of the man's eyebrows arched upwards and Leia got the impression that he found the whole ordeal rather amusing.

"Who are you?" She asked from her position on the floor. "What are you?"

"My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, perhaps Luke spoke of me." Obi-Wan shrugged. "And, well, I'm dead at the moment, so I believe I am what you might call a Force ghost."

"Oh," Leia clambered off of the floor and back into her chair, reaching out to snag the almost empty bottle of alcohol. This was weird, but better than thinking about Han and Ben. "What are you doing here? I'm sure Luke would love a visit from you. He misses you dearly."

"I'll visit him when he needs it, but," Obi-Wan leveled her a serious look. "At the moment you have a bit more of a need for me than he does."

"And what could I possibly need from you?" Leia shook her head. "You're just a ghost, and one that's never met me before anyway!" Maybe he could push some objects from the higher shelves to her? What do ghosts even do?

"No, you're correct, we've never met before," Obi-Wan sighed sadly. "But I suppose I'm somewhat of an expert on being betrayed."

"Hah! What do you know of betrayal?" Leia snorted. "My own son killed my husband!"

Obi-Wan's sharp gaze pinned her down in her seat. "Anakin was my Padawan before he became Darth Vader. I loved him like a brother and like a son, and in return for my trust and affection he brutally murdered hundreds of children and systematically massacred every Jedi left."

His shimmering blue hands reached out for the other bottle of unopened whiskey, only to slide soundlessly through the bottle rather than grasp it.

"Your son is turning out to be just like his grandfather, huh?" Obi-Wan chuckled mirthlessly.

Leia felt like her heart would explode in her chest. Obi-Wan was right. Her son was a murderer, a vile bastard for murdering his father in cold blood, for joining the Dark Side and once again warring against the innocents of the galaxy. Han was dead and she was left alone with Ben—no, Kylo Ren. She had failed as a wife and as a mother. This was all her fault, she should have been there for both of them, and she shouldn't have let Kylo k—

"But," Obi-Wan folded his hands on the table and gave her a searching look. "Your father was redeemed in the last moments of his life. He proved that even the darkest and most bitter people still have some good within them." Obi-Wan sighed heavily. "And when your son confronted Han Solo, the Force saw great Light within his Darkness. And while he may not be returned to you whole, or not at all, never lose hope of redemption."

Leia gave Obi-Wan a somber look as she processed what he had just said. Was there hope left? Could Ben ever come home?

Obi-Wan's form started to flicker, his blue robes slowly becoming more and more translucent.

And for just a moment, for the first time in years, Leia let herself be selfish.

"Is Han there? In the Force?" She asked quickly. "Will I ever see him again?"

"Everyone is part of the Force, General, and the Force works in mysterious ways."

Obi-Wan's parting smile remained until the last vestiges of his body disappeared.

Rey

Life in Jakku was quite different from life in the Resistance. Jakku had been dry sand and cruelty while the Resistance was lush, green forests and loyalty. The differences in temperature and landscape was odd. The change in cultures was frightening. The confusing attitudes of the people was terrifying. At least in Jakku one was one hundred percent sure not to trust anyone. What was the point? Any being in the settlement would kill for more rations, more water, or simply for the fun of it. Rey hadn't had to consciously decide to trust anyone, because after years living alone in the cutthroat desert there simply was no one to trust.

The Resistance, however, was filled to the brim with genuine people. People who seemingly had no ill will towards others for simply being around. After the first few meals huddled over her food, Rey had come to the startling realization that no one would try and take it from her.

After she had returned from the islands with Luke Skywalker, daily life had changed even more for her. People who before had simply smiled at her as they passed each other in the halls now surged around her whenever they saw her, giving her congratulations and compliments for 'a job well done'.

It had taken every inch of Rey's will to not scream that it hadn't been her job in the first place. That she hadn't wanted this.

Because a small part of her mind was screaming that she did, very much, want to get as far away from Jakku as possible. And what was farther away from a desert than a lush forest planet, especially one that housed a secret base.

And to top things off, Luke's training left her confused and frustrated more often than not. After his month long cold shoulder he had sat down at her somewhat lonesome table during morning meal and asked if she would become his 'Padawan'.

Rey had almost said no, but Luke was General Organa's brother, and General Organa could very well dump her ass back in Jakku if she proved too much of a hassle.

Rey had said 'yes' and spent the rest of the day sitting in a crunched up position on the floor with absolutely nothing to do. Luke had called it 'meditating', and said that she needed it to clear her mind of emotions, such as hate and anger.

She had spent every day after that for three weeks in the position for hours on end. Luke always ending their sessions with cryptic words of advice before walking spryly away and leaving her to unwind herself and limp back to her room. Poe and Finn had complained constantly about how uncomfortable the training had left her. Rey guessed from their point of view all that could be seen was a friend that could barely roll out of bed in the mornings or bend over to pick up a dropped fork.

In their last training session together Luke had been particularly snappish about her lack of progress in clearing any bad emotions. Rey had stormed off as soon as he had finished his not unkind rant, her entire body throbbing dully from having stayed curled up all day. She hadn't stopped until she was deep into the woods surrounding the base, trees shooting up like towers all around her.

Rey flopped down onto the soft grass on the forest floor. "This whole meditation thing is pointless."

She started to slowly pull pieces of grass out of the ground, holding it with a fair bit of wonder in front of her face, because wow who knew the ground could be covered in stuff that isn't sand. She sighed a little at yet another reminder of how much her life has changed since she met BB-8, Finn and Poe.

Now she had all of these people, people she loved, and she didn't know what to do with them, with Finn and Poe and Chewie and BB-8. On Jakku she'd never been lonely; she'd been alone, yes, but never lonely. It's hard to be lonely when being alone is all one has ever known.

But now she had so much to lose, people she loved that could go away, that could disappear; and Rey had the distinct feeling that if Poe or Finn left that she would be very, very lonely.

Most things had changed, in fact, nearly every aspect of her life had changed since she'd jumped into the Millennium Falcon with Finn; but not all.

"I've been driven by frustration and anger and fear all my life," Rey idly watched the grass around her sway in the wind. "How am I supposed to let go of things that are a part of me, even now."

"That is a very good question indeed."

Rey's heart jumped out of her chest as she rolled forward into a crouch, hands going to her staff and eyes scanning for an enemy only to find—

"Why are you translucent and blue?" A lack of subtlety was another trait from Jakku that remained stubbornly in place.

"Well, that's certainly the first time I've heard that one," The ghostly blue man blinked at her. "Normally its 'who are you' or 'what are you'." The man scoffed. "I look human enough, honestly."

"Except, you know, for the solid blue color and the whole ghost thing," Rey commented flatly before suddenly brandishing her staff at the man. "Now, who are you, what are you, and what do you want?"

"It's always the same with you people," grumbled the man, before clearing his throat loudly and giving Rey a rather droll look. "My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, formerly a Jedi and a General, currently a sentient Force ghost."

"A Force ghost," Rey raised an eyebrow. "A ghost made of the Force."

"Well, not exactly, I'm not made out of the Force as much as I am the Force."

"Does it matter?"

"Not really," the ghost admitted. "I doubt the intricacies and details of life after death interest you."

Rey shrugged.

The supposed Force ghost stared.

"So what are you here for?" Rey asked bluntly.

"To help you come to term with your emotions and their place in the For—

"I can't just get rid of my emotions, even the bad ones, that's not how people work," Rey cut the ghost off. "People hate because they've been hurt, and one can only be hurt when one has loved, or found joy in something that can be taken away."

The ghost stared at her in silence for a few seconds, a thoughtful look on his face. "Perhaps you are right. Perhaps the Jedi Order was wrong all those years ago to teach the lack of emotions rather than how to deal with all of them." The ghost ran a hand through his blue hair. "But I didn't come here to tell you about the mistakes of the past. I came here to warn you of the mistakes to be made in the future."

The ghost leaned closer and pinned Rey with a somber stare. "The old age of the Jedi is gone. The old teachings will never be re-taught, the old temple is long destroyed, the very ideals that the Jedi once held are being destroyed by young people like you—" the ghost held up his hand to quiet her protest. "This is not a bad thing. As I said, the old age of the Jedi is past; but a new age is upon us. An age were emotions are accepted in Jedi, an age lacking the poor judgements passed by fools stuck in their own old ways."

The ghost's voice lowered to a whisper. "You have been tempered by loss and anger and cruelty, but it has not made you weaker, only stronger. This is the way of the new Jedi, to lose and lose and feel the same as and more than everyone else, but to still hold hope and love closer than hate and fear."

The ghost gave her a short grin. "Tell Luke of your reasons for keeping these emotions, I think you'll find he'll listen. After all, he has the same trouble himself."

Rey's eyes widened at his words, and she sat stunned as Obi-Wan Kenobi slowly disappeared, leaving her alone once again in the forest.

"Well, Poe did just say yesterday that a little fear is good for the soul."

Poe and Finn

After Starkiller, after Finn had woken up from his coma, it had been a unanimous decisions that he would room with Poe. This had something to do with Poe very nearly lunging across a counter and strangling the Quartermaster when the Twi'lek had suggested giving the ex-Stormtrooper a bunk in a room shared by seven others.

Poe's rooms were big enough, filled with commodities such as a small kitchenette and a large couch. Being the best pilot in the Resistance came with some benefits beyond bragging rights. Finn had settled into Poe's life quite nicely, and as far as Poe was concerned it was a near perfect match.

He took great delight in helping Finn explore the many experiences he had missed as a Stormtrooper. Most days Rey joined them as they tasted foods from different planets, watched local and foreign holos, and, to Finn and Rey's delight, gone swimming in a nearby lake.

Both Finn and Poe had experienced rain before, and Stormtroopers were taught to swim in training, though Finn had never had need of that particular skill.

Rey, on the other hand, had never seen rain in her entire life. As far as she was concerned, water was more important than food, and rarer than Jedi these days. Finn and Poe often reminisced about the incident in the mess hall when Rey had discovered that the floors were washed with water. A pail full of it had been knocked over, and when it had simply been disposed of with another mop and a disgusted worker, Rey had practically beaten the man before it had been explained that water was more plentiful. Even now, months later, Rey still hoarded her drinking water, managing to stretch a simple bottle out for over three days.

Looking back, it hadn't been too funny.

Beyond their shared explorations, another benefit of rooming together was nightmares. Inevitably, almost every night, both Finn and Poe would sink into a nightmare. While most wouldn't consider this a benefit, most nights the sound of the Finn's screams and sobs would rouse the Poe from his own, quieter nightmare.

Poe often thought of how mutually unhealthy this was, but anything was better than re-living Kylo Ren tearing his mind apart or killing his friends, even waking up to Finn's screams. At least he knew those weren't caused by Kylo sinking his lightsaber through Finn's chest.

Finn's screams knocked Poe from his nightmare again, and he lay listening to his best friend's voice grow hoarser and hoarser as his wordless screams descended into sobs and then low whimpers. The wall between their rooms doing a terrible job of privacy.

Poe rolled over onto his side and put his hands over his ears, trying to muffle the sound of Finn's soft sounds.

"Please… I'm sorry, no…"

Poe drew his knees up to his chest and tried to curl closer around them. Flashes of Kylo Ren's red blade and terrible mask obscuring his vision.

"Not reconditioning, I swear… I'll do anything… please!"

Poe shuddered as Finn's voice became more and more desperate. He cursed himself for his selfishness, but he didn't want to confront Finn, didn't want to have to deal with Finn's nightmares when he could barely handle his own.

"No, not…not Poe, please…not Rey, I'm begging you…"

Poe relaxed a little as Finn's whimpers stopped, thank god—

"NO! POE! REY! PLEASE NO! NO!"

CRASH!

Poe was out of his bed and in the other man's room before his mind caught up with his actions. He froze just inside the doorway of Finn's room, the light from the hallway illuminating the rivulets of sweat running down the darker man's body and the horrible twisted expression on his face. A broken vase was in pieces on the floor.

Poe rushed to Finn's side and took hold of his shoulders, shaking him as hard as he dared.

"Finn, wake up!"

Finn's body tensed even more, his hands wildly gripping the sheets as his face screwed up in fear. "Please no, please don't hurt me—"

Poe flinched back before trying again, his grip on Finn's shoulders softening. "Hey buddy, it's me, Poe! You're safe, I swear, no one is gonna hurt you!"

Finn relaxed somewhat, and after a few more reassuring words his eyes opened and blinked up at Poe in confusion.

"P-Poe? W-What's happening? Why are you in my room?"

Poe released Finn's shoulders and drew back to sit awkwardly on the side of the bed next to Finn. "I, um, I heard you through the wall, I just wanted to make sure you're alright."

"Oh," Finn sighed. "I'm sorry for waking you up, I know it must be pretty annoying rooming with me when this happens every nigh—"

"No!" Poe glared at his clenched hands. "It's not annoying, and it's not your fault. I-I've heard you every night, you wake me up from my own nightmares, you know, but I've been too much of a damned coward to do the same for you!"

Finn looked a little stunned. He sat up in bed and gave Poe a contemplating look. "You've got your own problems, I've got mine. I don't blame you for not wanting to deal with someone else's problems."

"I-I, ugh" Poe dropped his head into his hands. "That's not the point Finn, I haven't been a good friend, I didn't help you, and I should've, I could've! I shouldn't have left you to deal with everything on your own when you obviously needed someone. You're in a safe place here, no reconditioning, no punishments! These nightmares aren't healthy!"

"Neither are yours!" Finn's eyes were defiant. "I hear your nightmares too! I hear what Kylo Ren did to you! I didn't confront you either!"

The two men stared at each other in anger and self-disgust for a minute or two.

"I-I'll ask for a new room assignment in the morning." Finn looked down.

"N-No, Finn, that's not the answer to this. We need to talk this out, we need to—"

"YOU WANT ME TO TALK ABOUT THIS?" Finn roared suddenly. "You want me to talk about life as a Stormtrooper, about reconditioning and forgetting your name, about living as a number, about never seeing faces other than my own except for prisoners and victims. About cleaning up dead bodies and Kylo Ren tearing your mind apart for simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time!"

Finn was practically hyperventilating after his rant. Poe felt a little stunned as he looked down at his own hands, which were clenched in his lap.

"He, uh, he used me to find the location of the map. Just tore through my mind like an uncontrolled X-Wing."

"Oh." Finn had known, logically, that that was what Kylo Ren had done to prisoners, but it had never really hit him that Poe had been tortured too.

"Yeah." Poe reclined back onto Finn's bed, laying awkwardly over the other man's legs feeling like his ribs were about to fall out of his chest.

"I, um, I'm sorry."

"For what?" Poe shook his head. "It's not your fault, hell, you ended up saving me."

"You too," Finn put a hand on Poe's shoulder. "I wouldn't have made it out without your flying!"

The two men lay in contemplation for a while, before Finn spoke up again.

"We should really clean up that vas—"

Poe snuffled a little and Finn raised his head enough to see that Poe was asleep in what looked like a very uncomfortable position half on Finn's legs and half off the bed.

Finn mentally shrugged. He was tired too.

From the doorway a blue figure chuckled quietly. He hadn't even had to talk this time, simply push a vase over.

The Force certainly did work in mysterious ways.

Han Solo

He had been so close. He had practically seen Ben in Kylo's eyes, seen the son he had loved, though perhaps not enough. There had been hope and light and love eating away at the darkness that shrouded his son, red bleeding into blue. The possibility of being a family once again.

But when Ben's grip on his lightsaber had tightened, Han knew it was over. He'd seen the Dark Side, seen what it could do, but he'd hoped his son was stronger.

He knew then that he had been foolish. Nothing was stronger than the Dark Side except for itself. Nothing he could do would sway his son.

So when the red lightsaber bit into his chest, when the world lit up in ferocious color, he was not surprised, only resigned and sad.

Because he hadn't been enough. His love hadn't compared to the Dark Side, to temptation and power.

Han looked into Ben's eyes one last time, taking in the unshed tears, pain and hate and then he was

Falling.

Falling forever, slipping to his death slowly, with no gunfire and no victory. Nothing like he'd imagined.

It was simple. It was slow. It was death.

It was the Force.

And he was standing in front of a beautiful building made of columns and spires, with green grass and plants littering the courtyard under his feet. Great doors arose before him, wooden and strong, barring his way into the wonderful building.

"It is open to you, if you wish."

A ginger-haired young man in brown robes was suddenly standing next to him, staring resolutely at the large building.

"That's complete peace beyond those doors."

Han blinked. He didn't think peace was for him.

"Or you could wait. Watch over Leia and Ben." The man turned to him and offered him a tight smile. "That's what I did."

"I can wait for them? For Leia? I could make sure she's alright?" That sounded like peace.

"Well, in a way," the man lost his smile. "I've found that one can't be too sure of anything, you might not be able to help them at all." The man blinked and gave Han a serious look. "But I promise that you can wait for them, and then be together here, though perhaps not in peace."

"Thank you."

"It's the way of the Force," the man shrugged nodded behind Han. "It gives rewards and punishments as it sees fit."

Han turned to see large skyscrapers towering behind him, markets and hover cars and people everywhere, singing and dancing and laughing and crying and simply being. Gamblers tussling over lost bets, petty thieves darting out of businesses and outrunning police.

The ginger-haired man headed towards an alley entrance to Han's right.

"Wait! Who are you?" Why did you help me, of all people?

"Well," The man turned his head enough to give Han a terrific grin. "I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi."

And promptly disappeared down the alley.

Han sighed. Jedi.