"Ben!" Han could hear his thunderous voice echo through the room. The vast vacuum of the room amplified the silence that followed. His son, Ben, had stopped where he stood. But he hadn't turned around. Everything froze.
Han moved. He steadily made his way onto the platform that his beloved son was standing further down on. The clang of his footsteps on the unsupported metal seemed to jar his son into slowly turning around to face him.
The face that met him wasn't his son. A mask of darkness met his gaze. Han had recognized the similarities of Ben's mask to that of Darth Vader the first time he saw it on Takodana. The similarities, although eerie, had a huge flaw. Ben wasn't Darth Vader, no matter how hard he tried. Ben was his son. Ben still had him and Leia to love and protect him. Han heard Ben's quick breaths through the mask and internally blanched. This was not Ben. This mask was not his son. This darkness was not his son. Ben was in there, somewhere.
Han had promised Leia he would try to bring their son back. If he had stayed in the shadows, passed up this opportunity to bring Ben back, he'd never be able to look Leia in the eyes ever again. He would never forgive himself. So Han gathered up his courage and carefully walked over to where his son was still standing. The fact that Ben was still standing there, was a good sign. Someone who had completely denounced his family and the Light wouldn't have been affected by his father calling his name. Since his son hadn't fled, Han reasoned that a part of him was still in there. Even if it was the smallest particle, Ben Solo was still alive.
There's good in him, I know it.
Leia's words echoed in his mind as he realized it must be true. Han stopped a few feet from Ben, still wary that he may run from him. When Ben stood still, Han decided to push his luck.
"You don't need that mask with me. Please take it off."
The voice modulator on Ben's mask crackled, chilling Han to the bones and reminding him of the terror he and Leia had endured on Bespin at the hands of Darth Vader. "What do you think you'll find?" The modified voice inquired.
Han swallowed. "The face of my son." His voice broke slightly on his last word, and Han shifted his feet, trying to dispel his emotions.
How could this have ever happened to his family? Why his son? He missed Ben and Leia. He missed the times when they were a happy family, before Snoke. It didn't feel right, their little family scattered among the stars. They were all lost in their own way, without the light of each other to guide them home. The light may be blinding, and scary, but they had to face the light. It was time to be found. It was time for the lost stars to come home. It was time for his family to be a whole again.
Han held his breath as he watched his son's gloved hands reach up to pull his helmet off. A good sign, Han thought. He was cooperating. This might be a little easier than he initially thought. The sight of his son's face inflicted him with conflicting feelings. It was his son, but his son was broken right now.
"Ben, come home." He pleaded while searching the eyes of his son. He knew those eyes. Eyes that looked so much like Leia's. When Ben was a baby, Han was so thrilled to find that their little boy had Leia's eyes. He had spent hours looking into Leia's eyes, and he knew what kind of love they held. And then his son had them, and they held the same kind of unconditional love. What had happened to his family?
"Your mother misses you. I miss you."
Ben's eyes were hard and blank. They didn't react to Han's words. Panic gripped Han's chest. He changed gears. "Snoke is using you. You know this."
Han watched Ben's eyes flash and body tense. Han had hit a nerve. "Deep down, you know this isn't right."
Han watched as his son's eyes bore into him, a mist forming around the edges. Ben's body began to shake as a tremor started in his right hand. Pull him out of there. Han pushed. "Please. Just, come home."
His son broke eye contact with him, boring his eyes into the ground. Quietly, emotionally, Ben sobbed, "I'm being torn apart." Han nodded at him. This was something he knew. The Light and the Dark were warring over who would have possession over him. A small part of him rejoiced that here was still light in him. Han didn't want him to be in pain, but Ben needed to come back.
"Focus on that, Ben. The light will guide you home."
Ben choked on his breath and he slowly raised his eyes to Han. Ben's shaking hand reached to his hip, curling his fingers around his lightsaber. Taking if off his belt, Ben raised it in front of Han in an offering. Han should've recoiled at the murderous weapon, but he held his son's gaze, holding on to blind hope and trust in his son.
"Will you help me?"
Han was quick to answer. "Anything."
Han laid his hand in the weapon. He would bear this burden with his son. This was his duty as a father. Ben stared at him and quietly, almost to the point where Han couldn't hear, spoke to him.
"Trust me." His mouth moved.
Han stared at his son and saw that his eyes were determined, wide, and open. Han nodded. It may be his downfall, but he would do whatever Ben needed. Live. Heal. Die.
Ben's grip tightened on the light saber, leading to Han's own firm grip on the weapon. Ben's face changed. A whoosh and bright flash of red light caused Han to suck in a breath in surprise. With such stillness, the sudden movement shocked Han.
A familiar roar settled in his ears and echoed off the chrome walls. All at once, Han registered what had happened. He looked down to find Ben's lightsaber looking oddly short. It was pointed at him. But no, he corrected himself, the lightsaber wasn't uncharacteristically short. It was inside Han, like a ghost passes through solid objects.
Han was stabbed with the lightsaber. Through the chest. Han tried to process what Ben had done. His own son had stabbed him. In the chest. A clear and obvious death blow.
He was going to die. At his son's hands. But it was okay. He would die knowing he helped his son. He would die trying to save Leia and the Resistance from the obliterating blows of the Starkiller Base. He blindly hoped that Chewie, Finn, and Rey would finish the job. He would die for his family. He would be at peace.
But something was off. Han had never been sliced by a lightsaber, but he'd been hit by a blaster too many times to count. Those blaster burns hurt like ten levels of burning hell. But Han wasn't in pain. His mind reasoned that maybe he had become numb.
No, that wasn't right. A stabbing by a lightsaber in the chest would hurt. At least until he knocked on Death's door. Han looked up at Ben. Ben's eyes were steady and open. He didn't look like a man who had just stabbed his own father. Though, Han didn't know what he had expected. Ben was leaning towards the dark side. Out of his hate and anger, he had killed his own father.
Han's hand instinctively rose to the side of Ben's face. He placed his steady hand there, silently forgiving him. He would love his son to his dying breath, no matter what he had done. It is what a father does.
Han waited for the exhaustion to overtake him and the darkness to settle around him, but he felt fine, great even. Kriff. Maybe death was kind.
Ben's voice floated over to Han. "Thank you."
Han tried to feel the pain, but felt nothing. And then a familiar feeling floated over him. It was a feeling he had often felt when Ben was young. The feeling came from when Luke had started training Ben in the ways of the Force, Luke had started with lifting objects. Luke had told him and Leia that this was the simplest way to get attuned to all of the living beings that contributed to the Force.
Ben, being the giggly child he was, had thought it was funny to levitate C-3PO and make him float around the house, all the while listening to 3PO's panicked words. When he got bored of moving 3PO, he started to pick up Han.
Ben would do this randomly in the coming weeks, until getting bored of levitating him as well.
That was what dying felt like. It felt like Ben was lifting him up and floating him.
Han tipped sideways and felt his breath catch.
Over the edge, Han felt himself fall into oblivion.
When Han opened his eyes again, he found himself laying on a cold, hard floor. He laid still, waiting for the pain to overtake his system, but when he didn't, he raised his head up to look at the damage the lightsaber had made. But there was nothing. No blood. No pain. Nothing.
Han's hands tore at the buttons on his shirt, opening it to find no injury to his torso. His skin was smooth. Smooth and normal. But….Ben had stabbed him. He had seen it. How could he be alive?
The truth crashed down on Han like an avalanche, pinning him to the cold floor. Ben had used the force to make everyone believe that he had killed his father. That floating feeling he felt was Ben guiding him to safety.
His son faked his death.
He was alive.
But what did this mean?