Author's Notes…

I want to do a Christmas story, so I'm ganking this from a prompt I did. This was originally under Whispered Thrills and Lightning Strikes, but I've adapted it here into something longer. It's not going to be very many chapters—I intend to keep it short and sweet, with what I've mapped out.

Anyway, despite it being the beginning of November, I'm giving myself plenty of time to finish it before Christmas. I hope people enjoy!

How to Save a Life

Chapter One

The Voice

December 20

Rockin' around the Christmas tree at the Christmas party hop… Mistletoe hung where you can see, every couple tries to stop…

It was ironic that those were the lyrics playing when Rey glanced across the party and saw… him. Why? Because he was standing directly beneath the mistletoe, and his gaze was intense and reluctant to leave hers. It made her flush and swallow, and she told herself to look away, but she couldn't bring herself to. She told herself it was because he was the only interesting thing about this party.

"Whoo!" Finn cried, bumping into her, jostling the drink she had in hand. "Oops, sorry. Isn't this a great turnout, though?" He leaned against the same wall she was hanging out on. "I'm glad you came. Rose didn't think you would."

That drew Rey's attention to her best friend. "What? Why?"

He shrugged and stared down into his red Solo cup. "Oh, you know…"

"I don't, actually," she replied.

"Well, you've been kind of… weird since we got engaged. You know? I never see you anymore. So I just assumed that you didn't… approve of our engagement…"

"You know what they say about assuming," Rey said with a smile.

"You know what I mean," he muttered.

"I've just been busy, Finn. Don't be so dramatic. You've been engaged for, what, a week?"

"Two weeks," he continued muttering. "Two—two weeks…"

She laughed. "Two weeks, then." She handed him her drink so she could pull her hair up into a messy bun. With all the people swarming this house and the heater on, it was growing very warm. "It's this receptionist job. You know I'm not very good in office environments. It's sapping all of my energy every day. I promise you, I love Rose."

Finn studied her for a moment to check how serious she was, then nodded and returned her drink to her. "Ben Solo is checking you out. Do you think he likes your ugly sweater?" He tsked and took a long draw of his iceless soda. "Only person not wearing a sweater. Bastard. I hate that Rose invited him."

Solo?

He examined her blank stare. "You know, Solo. Of Solo Industries." When she continued to peer at him, he sighed and rolled his eyes. "The place where you work?"

Everything clicked together, and Rey gasped. "Oh, my God! He's my employer!"

"Sort of," Finn said. "I don't think he actually works there. Just a part of the family business. Rose knows him because she works on his cars a lot. So… any idea why he's staring you down?"

The back of Rey's neck heated. "Still?"

"What do you mean, still?" Finn questioned. "How long has he been at this?"

"I don't know," Rey admitted. "I only caught him just before you arrived."

Finn grunted and knocked back the rest of his soda. Rey suspected there was alcohol in it, likely rum. "He's trouble," he said. "That's what I've heard."

"You know what they say about assuming—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!" Finn griped. "Just go say hello so he'll stop being creepy."

This tore another giggle from Rey's lips. "No."

"Why not? He's that creepy?"

"No!" She laughed harder. It was difficult not to, what with the look on her friend's face. He was genuinely concerned. "He's standing beneath the mistletoe."

Finn leaned into her. "Do you think he knows?" he whispered, as though he could be heard over the racket of the party. "I'm surprised he showed up at all. That guy hates me."

"Hate is a strong word," Rey said. "And anyone who knew you could never hate you."

"Awh," Finn replied with a trace of his own blush. "Thanks, Rey."

"You're welcome," she said merrily.

"I'm going to go get another drink. You want one?"

"No, I'm all right, thank you."

Finn wandered off, leaving Rey to her own devices. For the first time since Finn had showed up, she let her gaze roam back to the man beneath the mistletoe. He was looking into his cup. Sensing her eyes on him, he lifted his own, and once more they were holding a stare.

Rey felt it her duty to point out about the mistletoe. He was a handsome man and likely didn't want a drunk girl groping him and kissing him. Or maybe he did. Either way, she tipped her cup in the direction of the mistletoe, and Solo looked up. While he was doing so, Rey pushed off the wall and made her way over to him.

She got to see how very tall he was once she was standing next to him. "Hi," she said.

He yanked his eyes down from the mistletoe, startled.

When he didn't say anything, Rey tilted her head. "You were staring at me."

He coughed and crossed his arms. "No…"

"No?"

"No," he said more firmly.

"Hm."

"You… were staring at me," he said.

"Oh, is that so?" She folded her arms in a mimicry of how he was standing. Well, one arm. She still had her drink to carry. "All right, then. I was staring at you." She could be agreeable, if only because of how utterly awkward he was. "What's your name?"

"Uh… Ben," he muttered.

"My name is Rey," she said. "Are you enjoying the party?"

"No," he said.

"Is that your favorite word?"

"…No."

She couldn't help it, she giggled. Since the mistletoe was dangling from the threshold of one room to another, Rey leaned against the panel opposite from him. People passed between them, engrossed in their own little worlds.

"You're wearing antlers," he observed.

"Yes," she said.

He shifted. "…They light up. And they've got bells."

"Indeed, they do." This man had absolutely zero game, and she was enjoying every moment of it. "I see you didn't get the memo for the ugly sweaters."

He scoffed. "Oh, I got it, all right. I just chose to ignore it."

"That's not very nice," she said.

"Well, I'm not a nice person." He coughed a little again. Now that she was standing before him, he couldn't lock eyes with her anymore. They roamed the room to their left, the dining room, studying the partygoers. Mountains of food were piled on the table, anywhere from homemade goods some had brought, to Zebra Cakes, to chips, to soda and liquor, to plenty of ice and cups.

"So I've heard," she replied.

"Well… good, then."

"Good?" She raised an eyebrow.

He nodded. "Yes, good." Brown eyes finally met hers again, golden from the way the light was hitting them. It was in that moment that Rey thought he was rather beautiful, despite his untraditional features, and her breath halted. "I hate Christmas parties."

Rey decided to go with the subject change. "And why is that?"

Another scoff, and he set his jaw and stared into the contents of his cup as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. "People. I hate people."

"Then why are you here?" she asked, another giggle bubbling up.

"I don't know," he said honestly. "I like Rose. She's nice… I guess. And I haven't left my apartment in a while. I was bored."

She nodded. "That seems as good a reason as any."

"Are you laughing at me?"

"Only a little," she confessed.

"Well, now who isn't the nice one?"

"Me," she agreed. "Shall we, then?"

"Shall we what…?" he asked cautiously.

"Complete a Christmas tradition." She took a step toward him and watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. She didn't stop until she was an inch away from him. "Hi."

"Hello…"

"Kiss me, then." A devious grin was spreading across her mouth, and she couldn't be bothered to hide it.

She thought he would tell her no, or choke, or offer perhaps an ugly exchange of words. To her surprise (and secret delight), he took stock of the room one last time before bending down, his eyes closing as his lips met hers. They were so very warm and soft, and she thought she heard herself sigh as her free hand slipped to his shoulder.

And then something happened.

Something strange and impossible.

Time stopped.

Rey looked around, her eyes widening. Ben was frozen in the position of kissing her, but it didn't last for very long—shortly after, a whirlwind of images took over her mind. She was helpless, floundering, trying to make sense of what she was being shown.

"It's a shame… It's a damned shame…"

A graveyard. Umbrellas held up against snow, a woman leaning into what had to be her husband, sobbing openly. There weren't very many people gathered around the coffin that had yet to be lowered into the ground. They were all dressed in a somber black, most with blank faces, as if they were there out of respect and nothing more.

"Heir to a billionaire kills himself," a man read over a coffee table. He had a faux hawk, and his expression was taut with… something. Not exactly grief, but a close cousin. "I didn't see that happening. I knew he was sad, but…"

The parents from the graveyard were screaming at one another in their pristine mansion. They both blamed the other for what had taken place. The woman picked up a vase and threw it, narrowly missing the man's head. His eyes blazed with fury.

"It's always my damned fault! Always! Why don't you take some of the responsibility?!"

"You're the one who pushed him away!"

Ben Solo, hand shaking as he put the barrel of a gun into his mouth. He was slumped against a wall in a dark room, and tears streaked his face. The loneliness was palpable. He was clearly a man lost.

He pulled the trigger.

O Christmas tree, o Christmas tree, how lovely are thy branches… O Christmas tree, o Christmas tree… How lovely are thy branches… Your boughs so green in summertime…

"You're really pretty," Ben muttered, and Rey realized she was back at the party.

What the hell was that?!

The urge to run away and never look back was strong. Somehow, she composed herself and lifted onto her tiptoes to give him another kiss. She didn't know why she did it—the vivid image of blood splattered on the wall was still with her. But she couldn't freak out in front of him, in front of any of these people.

Maybe someone had slipped something into her drink…

But she felt fine.

At the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw a flash of white feathers.

"Are you okay…?" Ben asked.

He's going to kill himself, Rey thought numbly. I have to do something.

She could be wrong. This entire thing was madness. But something resonated within her—something telling her to not leave him alone tonight. That no matter what countenance he was displaying, deep inside, he was hurting. Hurting enough to end his life.

"I'm fine," she said breathlessly because, "I just had a vision," didn't sound like it would hit the ear quite right.

"All right," he said slowly, his brows pushed together over his nose. His eyes were so serious.

Don't let him leave, someone seemed to whisper.

She grabbed his hand. "Want to get to someplace more quiet?"

He nodded empathetically, and she managed to plaster a grin onto her face.

"Come with me," she said.

"…All right," he allowed.

Operating on instinct, Rey tugged him toward the garage. No one would be hanging out there, and she could breathe in the cold air and gather her thoughts. She had to get a grip on herself. That, or see a shrink.

What in God's good name was going on?

"You work for your father's company?" Rey asked, shivering. It was barely ten degrees out there.

"…He wants me to," Ben replied. He ran his fingertips lightly over the hood of Finn's car, as if he was almost too shy to keep his gaze on Rey. "I don't want to, though. I had… other things planned for my life."

"Like what?" Rey asked, just to keep him talking, buying herself time to think.

"I don't know," Ben said. "It's not important."

"Well, I want to hear," she replied.

He hesitated, his eyes clouded with suspicion. Determining that she was being honest, he shrugged one shoulder and resumed admiring Finn's car. "When I was younger, I wanted to write. I had all of these ideas."

"What happened?" Rey rubbed at her arms to keep herself warm. She might as well have been wearing a tank top, for what good the sweater did to shield her.

"You're cold," he stated. A moment later, he'd taken off his blazer and wrapped it over her shoulders. She stared up at him from so close again, her heart in her throat. Even if she was going mad… the idea of—of this man… wanting so badly to die…

She couldn't let it happen.

"And you're avoiding the subject," she pointed out. "But—thank you. For this."

Ben turned away. "It's nothing," he mumbled.

She could see it now—the signs. They were there, if one knew what to spot. The circles under his eyes, the tightness to his lips. The haggard slump of his shoulders. The empty stare. He was good at hiding it, though. Everything was subtle enough to miss.

"So you think I'm pretty?" she asked.

The tips of his ears burned red.

She took a step closer to him. "You don't look so bad yourself," she said playfully.

The blush deepened, and he shrugged again.

"That car must be absolutely fascinating," she observed.

"Not as fascinating as you," he said under his breath, so softly she almost missed it.

Now she was the one who was blushing.

Embarrassed, she found the tools and began fiddling with different wrenches. They were in typical red drawers. Finn could be OCD sometimes, so they were all aligned perfectly. Rey knew she'd catch hell if he saw her doing this. Well, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Go on, said the whisper at the back of her mind, barely there.

"Would it be—too strange if I asked you to get coffee with me tomorrow?" Rey asked.

"No," he said again without hesitation. He cleared his throat. "I—sure."

"Excellent," she said, smiling to herself. "What's your favorite place?"

"I don't have one."

That didn't surprise her.

"There's a café I like to go to on 5th," she said. "It's nothing really special, but the tea is delicious, and I've heard the coffee is great, as well."

He was quiet.

She looked over her shoulder at him a bit furtively, finding him doing the same. Both flushing, they quickly went back to what they were doing.

Good, the whisper said. This is good.

"Did you like it?" she asked.

"Like what?" he replied.

"The kiss," she explained.

"O-Oh…" His silence was more drawn out this time. Eventually, he cleared his throat again. "Yeah… I did."

"I did, too," she whispered. "Do you think we should try it again?" Despite the disturbing vision, she was looking forward to another round.

A large hand wrapped around hers. Startled, she lifted her head in time for Ben to bend his head to kiss her. Her eyes closed, a soft sound leaving her. His other hand came to a rest at the small of her back, pulling her closer.

They didn't do much—it was only sweet, lingering kisses that nonetheless made Rey warm all over. He was so tentative, yet firm all at once, and it was endearing. Endearing enough to make her forget all about what she'd seen.

"That went well," she said breathlessly.

His lips descended on hers, and all other words flew out of her head.

Yes, whispered the voice.

Who are you? she thought.

There was no answer.

Ben drew away, stroking his thumb along the line of her jaw as he did so. She found herself kissing his palm as it passed.

"I have to go," he said. "I have to be up really early." He wet his lips. "…What time do you want to meet?"

"Oh—" Rey's wits had scattered. She did her best to pull them back together. "When are you free?"

"Noon," he said.

"Noon, then," she replied.

For the first time that evening, he smiled. It was tiny, so tiny it barely reached his eyes, but it was there. She gave him back his coat and watched him walk away as he held it over his shoulder with a finger, his free hand tucked into his pocket. Her heart was hammering, and she slumped against Finn's car.

She left shortly after, heading back to her flat. The vision was still on her mind as she flicked on the lights and dropped her purse onto her dining room table. She shed her coat and yanked off her sweater. She hoped he found the café—they hadn't exactly exchanged numbers. She wished she hadn't been so late to bring that up.

Hungry despite the food from the party, she opened her refrigerator.

"You did a good job," someone said.

Rey couldn't help it—she screamed a bit.

She whipped around, arms flying into a defensive stance. "I HAVE MACE, AND I'M NOT AFRAID TO USE IT!" she said, though it wasn't at hand. "AND I'M VERY TRAINED IN KRAV MAGA!" she continued, though she'd only taken one lesson.

"You shouldn't lie," said a golden brown-haired man.

"Don't come any closer!" she warned.

"Relax," he said.

And she watched as wings pushed out of his back and fanned out, white feathers shimmering.

Then she did the one thing she'd sworn she'd never do.

She fainted.