a/n: Because I couldn't shake how lonely Ben must have felt as a boy. Here is my catharsis.
warnings: implied grooming, emotional manipulation, neglect
words: 755; not beta'd
disclaimer: all rights belong to Lucas Films/Walt Disney. I am not making money from this writing.
summary: Children aren't seduced by power, fear, or pain–but by kindness.
A Monster's Family
Don't think about:
Ben Solo at six years old waking up to a scarred, pale face with hungry eyes looming over him. His screams of terror bringing first the guards, then the nanny, then finally his parents. How they tell him it was a bad dream and there's nothing to be afraid of. How his parents tuck him in and laugh quietly, together, over "wild imaginations."
Don't think about:
Ben Solo, two weeks later seeing the same horrid face, lurking in the shadows. Or how he runs into his parents' bedroom and buries himself between them, cringing when his father grumbles that he's "too old for this" while his mother shushes them both in different tones.
How for the next week Han checks under Ben's bed for non-existent monsters until he tires of the routine and tells his son to "grow up."
Or the next night, when the figure appears again, and little Ben knows it's useless to seek help-that he'll be a disappointment if he does-so he cowers under the covers and squints his eyes shut tight enough to see stars, whispering that "there's no such thing as monsters."
How from across the room, a ragged voice whispers, "Are you certain?"
Don't think about:
At eight years old, Ben Solo having grown a little taller. Braver and bolder too. Questioning everything about the world around him, only there's no one around to satisfy his curiosity:
. . .because his mother comes and goes, diplomacy dictating her life more than motherhood;
. . .because his father is always off on another hair-brained trade deal (whose illegal nature he'll come to understand later).
How he's alone, again, when his childhood terror reappears. But, because he's older now, and since there's no one else, Ben asks, "Who are you?"
Which prompts the eyes to smile, though the thin lips don't respond in kind. "I knew your grandfather."
How a sentence full of promise is the sweetest candy.
Don't think about:
It's when he turns ten that Ben's mother senses something is wrong, and she finally pays attention to the signs she's been ignoring: the dark circles dragging beneath his eyes, the pallor of his skin.
How Han and Leia argue back and forth for days over the cause. Saying he's sick, that he needs more sleep, more food, more sun, more activity.
How they don't understand what he really needs: someone to talk to, to ask how his day was and what he learned, to address his questions about who he is and where he comes from, to tell him stories.
How young Ben Solo, sick of the fighting and bickering of his parents, slips away to be with someone who will listen-someone who claims him for his own.
Don't think about:
At dinner the following night, with both parents breathing the same rare air as he is, how Ben reaches out to them, desperately wanting to reconnect, to save his family by being the son they've always wanted but he's never managed to become: a son to carry on a legacy.
"Why haven't you ever told me about Vader?"
At one end of the table, Han almost choking on his food.
At the other, Leia calmly stating, "He was a deeply troubled man, your grandfather."
Trying. . ."I heard he was a great man."
Trying. . ."A powerful Force user."
Trying. . ."Someone to look up to."
"He was a murdering, miserable tyrant," claims the father who he hasn't seen in eight months, maybe longer. "He's not someone to idolize, kid."
How the dining table lurches away from all of them, colliding with the far wall, and his parents looking on in slack-jawed horror at a child neither of them know.
How the boy shouts at his father: "He's better than you'll ever be!"
Don't think about:
Ben Solo, not yet eleven, being sent away to train with his hermit of an uncle: Luke.
How his mother still worries, blames herself for not being there when her son needed her most; how she falls into a cycle of regret that will restart every time her mind strays to Ben's soft face or remembers the curl in his dark hair.
Or how Han maintains that it's just a phase, nothing to worry themselves over because he'll "grow out of it" as all boys do. How he'll buy into his denial for years to come because he can't bear to accept how grossly he's failed wife and child both.
Don't think about:
A marriage broken. A child lost.
And the grooming that begins in earnest.
a/n: #savebensolo