The moment it really hits you that you've failed is when Chewie tells you, "I can handle this. Please go rest, Rey."
"I'm sorry," you say with your head bowed, too ashamed to even look him in the eyes.
There's an unmistakable tremble in his voice when he tells you it's going to be okay - he's worried and you feel like crying. The pilot seat suddenly feels uncomfortable, the Falcon becoming more burden than privilege with each passing moment. You try to stand but end up failing miserably. Your head is spinning.
'Clear your mind,' someone says.
'Rey, clear your mind.' It's Luke and he feels so far away.
You search for your father's voice but everything's hazy and all you can seem to focus on is the bloody controls in front of you.
In the chaos of escaping the Knights and the Order you've forgotten how badly you are hurt. Your side is burning were Kylo Ren struck you with his lightsaber. The metal shard he sent flying towards you is still wedged in your left shoulder, digging deeper with each reckless move. Ren's gotten so much stronger. And you? Here you are… bleeding all over.
You absently reach for the offending metal only to end up crying out in pain. It's your right hand. It's broken, twisted and useless. Tears sprang to your eyes as you realize this injury is not because of Kylo Ren, it's because of you.
You've been foolish, overconfident and impatient, falling so easily for the Order's trap. How can you show your face to the Resistance? The General? Finn? And your father. You're a disappointment. This is all your fault. You've failed everyone.
You feel Chewie's hand on your uninjured shoulder. "It's going to be okay, Rey. Just hold on, we're almost home."
Home? You wanted to ask him where that is but you're too exhausted for words. For the first time in a very long time you miss Jakku. In the dessert you were no one, just a scavenger trying to survive. You're no Jedi, you're no saviour… you've got no one to disappoint and no one to hurt. You're junk. They should've just left you behind. Maybe that's why your father did…
'You're weak!' says a familiar voice in your head. No, it's not Luke. It's someone else. Someone who's always there, waiting and longing for you to stumble and give in. 'They only want you for your power. You've failed and now you're useless to them!'
"Shut up!" There's blood in your mouth now but you try to answer the voice as clearly as you can. "Get out of my head!"
'So much anger...'
Yes, you're angry. Angry at yourself. Angry at Ren. Angry at the Order. Angry at your father for leaving you behind.
'He didn't want you.'
That's not true, you tell yourself over and over.
'Everything is Luke's fault.'
You wanted to scream but all you could really do now is cough and sputter. You're falling apart so you try calling for the lightsaber because you know it's not just a reminder… it's a promise.
You try and try but the weapon wouldn't come to you. You're pathetic.
'Such weakness…'
The heaviness in your chest is growing. Every breath sends you chocking. There's a sandstorm in your lungs. You're drowning.
'You're afraid.'
The blood loss is making you dizzy, the pain making you vulnerable. The voice is right, you're afraid.
No, not of dying. You're afraid to be alone. You're afraid to be forgotten. You're afraid to go back to being unloved. You're afraid for very selfish reasons and it's tearing you up inside.
'I can make you stronger. Stronger than anyone.' The voice is seductive and you can't help but listen. 'I can take your pain and fears away.'
Chewie's trying to talk to you but the voice in your head is blocking everything else out.
'Rey, you won't have to feel lonely and unwanted ever again.'
You feel yourself slipping, darkness growing at the edge of your vision.
'Join me. I can teach you.'
Chewie's right beside you now, his hand feeling incredibly warm against the coolness of the lightsaber as he gently yet firmly holds it in yours.
You think of Kylo Ren and his strength and how he's everything you never want to become. You don't want power, what you want is your father telling you everything's going to be okay. You want him to hold your broken hand and promise you, 'We can fix this.' You don't want a teacher, you want a family.
"Thank you," you manage to say to Chewie as the voice in your head fades to a whisper.
He responds by giving your hand a gentle squeeze, reminding you that the weapon your holding is who you are and who you are meant to be.
The Falcon jerks beneath you and you wonder if you're already home. Chewie lets go of your hand and the lightsaber falls from your grip.
You feel your father's presence long before you feel his mechanical hand gently holding yours.
"I'm sorry," you try to say as he kisses your forehead.
Everything's hazy now but you can't help but believe him when he tells you, "I'm here. It's going to be okay."