AN: The conflict in "The Prince of Egypt" reminded me so much of these two, just as it does with Anakin & Obi-Wan. I hope you don't mind the tweaks I put in the lyrics.

Han was exhausted, to say the least. He was getting too old for this. Not that he'd never admit it out loud, of course. After placing the charges, he jogged down the hallway as he looked for Rey and Finn. He carefully kept to the shadows, away from stormtroopers. He was about to round one particular corner, when he saw something that made his heart stop: a tall, lithe figure cloaked in heavy-looking black robes. A coordinating black mask hid the person's face. But no amount of covering or other concealment could prevent Han from recognizing his son. His boy, now a man, was striding in the opposite direction, completely unaware of his presence. At least, it seemed that way. Han had a couple of options in that moment. He had the chance to run back to the Falcon and get his two young charges to safety, or he could fulfill his promise to Leia and make sure his beloved ship carried four people back to the base, instead of three. His legs started moving without his command, making the choice for him. He couldn't let this chance pass again.

He took a deep breath and shouted, "Ben!"

The figure froze and turned around. Han wasn't Force-sensitive, but he still sensed the nervous tension in the air. Was his boy smiling beneath that thing? He doubted it. A scowl was much more likely.

"Han Solo. I've been waiting for this day a long time."

"Once, you called me 'Father'.

Once, we thought the chance to share a laugh was all we ever wanted."

The former Rebel general nearly shivered. This was the exact opposite of his boy's warm timbre. It was still deep, but the mechanical overlay was sickening. A funny memory crossed his mind. Ben was thirteen, home on a brief vacation from training, when his voice first broke. He'd clutched at his throat, asking Han what was happening to him. After some good-natured ribbing, both of them were in stiches. Laughing together was something they'd once loved to do. The dimples he'd inherited from Leia would come out. Han would love nothing more than to go back to those days again. Maybe, this was the opportunity he'd been waiting for.

"And even now, I wish the Resistance chose another.

Fighting my own blood on its behalf, is the last thing that I wanted."

Walking closer, he told him, "Take off that mask. You don't need it."

"What do you think you'll see?"

"The face of my son."

As the mask was removed, the older man swallowed hard. His boy was only twenty-nine. He shouldn't have that much of an old soul, pouring from those greenish-brown eyes. Ben had Leia's sharply-defined cheekbones and jaw, Han's nose, and the same black hair Han's late mother once sported. How one person could look so tired, yet still exude a commanding aura, was beyond him. In any other circumstances, this would make him proud.

"Please, child, come home.

All this pain and devestation, how it tortures me inside.

All the innocent, who suffer from your stubborness and pride."

"Your son is gone. He was weak and foolish like his father. So, I destroyed him."

"Snoke's using you for your power, manipulating your abilities. When he's gotten everything he wants out of you, he'll crush you. Toss you aside. You know it's true."

A shake of the head was followed by, "It's too late."

Ben probably thought that, by playing on certain insecurities, his father would turn tail and run. There hadn't been much in his childhood to convince him otherwise. But still, did he truly think Han didn't have feelings? Did he know how much his actions broke the older man's heart? If he returned to his family, they could work on repairing all past wrongs. There wasn't an ulterior motive involved. Why couldn't he see that?

"You, who called me 'Father'.

Why must you call down another blow?

Let the people go!

Thus say the Force!"

Ben's voice had cracked on the word "late", as if he were choking back tears. Maybe, just maybe, something was penetrating past that invisible dark armor he'd been crafting around himself for so long. Han wanted so badly to reach out and hug him, like he used to when his boy was small, but he knew he still had to tread delicately at this point. All it'd take was one word, one step forward, and all this sadness could be put behind them. They'd both be free, and so would many others.

"No. No, it's not. It's never too late for the truth. Leave here with me. Come home. Your mother misses you."

There was a sharp sniffle, and their eyes met again.

His boy's voice continued to wobble: "I'm being torn apart. I want to be free of this pain. And I know what I have to do, but I don't know if I have the strength to do it. Will you help me?"

"Yes. Anything."

"You, who I called 'Father'.

How could you have come to hate me so?

Is this what you wanted?"

Everything about this moment was laughable. The glimmering mist of tears in the smuggler's eyes, the slight quiver of his bottom lip, the way he seemed to be forcing his arms to stay at his sides...Ben swallowed back the chuckle that wanted to escape. Han Solo wasn't trying to help him. He was trying to cripple him! Why couldn't he see the truth? His legend as Kylo Ren was everything he'd always been meant for, all the power and distinction he'd dreamed of as a lonely child. His stomach twisted sharply. Damn it! This was affecting him more than he realized, and that just wouldn't do.

"Then, let my heart be hardened.

And nevermind how high the cost may grow.

This will still be so.

I will never let the people go!"

He needed to cross that final step, to prove that he was worthy of the new training Snoke had promised. And once he reached that level, he could finally be happy with himself. As a second pair of hands, callused and slightly-wrinkled, closed around the hilt of his lightsaber, a loud snap-hiss shattered what had almost been a moment of reconciliation.

"Let the people go!

….

"I will not let the people go!"

Ben watched the spark slowly leave his father's eyes. A warm, rough palm grazed his cheek. The touch faded as Han's body fell, and Ben surprised himself by briefly reaching out to grab that hand. Now, it really was too late. He'd been offered forgiveness, and he'd refused it. Perhaps, he'd still get it from the other side, but he wasn't sure. He swallowed hard and looked down, his eyes wide and his heart racing. What had he done?

AN: I know I left out a lot of the background words, but I wanted to focus on the more important things for the characters.