Chapter 1: Misery

It has only been a few weeks since the Resistance escaped Crait with their lives. A few weeks since Luke Skywalker's death.

And yet, in that time, Rey feels as though she has aged years - years that have passed agonizingly slowly.

It takes most of her effort just to get out of bed in the morning. She has her own quarters, a luxury that most other Resistance fighters cannot claim. If Rey were truly herself, she would feel grateful to be extended this courtesy, but instead, she just feels more and more out of place. Carrying the mantle of the Jedi, being the Last Jedi in the galaxy, has made her feel as exotic as an animal in a zoo.

Everyone stares at her. When she walks into a room, nearly all conversation ceases. Rey would not be surprised if somebody soon started the practice of bowing down at her feet. Even without that, the attention is unnerving. She does not talk to anybody, preferring instead to sit at a table in the mess hall by herself. Early in their journey into hiding, Finn makes the attempt to sit with her. He does not ask, but Rey can tell he knows something disturbing happened to her after she first left for Ahch-To. At least, that's how his thoughts seem to interpret it, when she probes just a little into his mind. No, what has befallen her is not so much disturbing as it is... debilitating. After a few days, even Finn draws away from her, once Rey makes it clear she will not - cannot - come out of her shell. Her depression.

There, that's the word. Depression. She is hopelessly, miserably depressed.

By all rights, she really shouldn't be. She is back with the Resistance, the family she created for herself, the cause that was once the cause of Han Solo, Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa (may she rest in peace!) That was a horrible night - the emergency alarms jolting her from a deep sleep, Poe Dameron sprinting down the halls and banging on every door as he wailed the news that the General was dead. Since the funeral, the Resistance's new commander has begun to learn how to better maintain his composure. But Leia was such an inspiring figure, Rey doubts that any successor would have reacted to her demise with less panic and grief. As for herself, Rey doesn't remember much about the funeral. She stood there in a fog, mostly, sealing herself off from everyone who tried to hug her or just offer condolences. Except one person. A person who was not even physically present. But she could feel... floating like a ghost on the edge of her subconscious, like he was standing on the other side of a two-way mirror, or better yet drifting on the other side of a membrane. He could have announced himself more fully if he wanted to, but chose not.

Even if the funeral was for his mother. But he was there. Rey knows he was there.

And what makes Rey the most miserable of all - what will sometimes make her moan and even weep with melancholy, shut up in her room whenever she is not needed for Resistance duties - is that she wanted him there. She still does want him here.

She is just finishing preparing for bed one night, slipping her nightgown over her head, when a voice that she thinks she would never hear again echoes in her brain and about her, as if coming through a loudspeaker:

"The Last Jedi sure doesn't do much."

Rey spins about and dives for the blaster on her nightstand. Coming up into a fighting stance, she scans the room wildly. But... no one is here. Odd. All the other times they have spoken through the Force Bond, she has seen his person, the essence of him, as if he is standing right there before her. Yet his voice continues to reverberate.

"How is your new little family? Are they everything you ever wanted?"

Rey wants to defiantly say Yes, but that one simple word refuses to form, to come out. Her thoughts are mangled, and she vulnerably lets him read them. "No? I thought not."

Ben sounds almost smug in his interpretation of her situation, which enrages her. Her anger roars into her Force essence like a wildfire being sucked into being, and she blasts out, "Is power everything you ever wanted?"

Unlike her, Ben is more direct, more readily admits the truth. "No."

Rey blinks in surprise, and even though she is staring at nothing, she averts her gaze. He may not be standing before her, but she has been concentrating on a spot on the far wall, as if he was there, imagining him to be there. There is a long, awkward silence, and then Ben's voice washes over her again:

"Why did you leave me?" Why did he have to add that last word there? Why does he sound like a jilted lover, an abandoned puppy? Rey curses her traitorous heart for speeding up in a way it most definitely should not, for melting at the sound of what can only be identified as pain. The pain in his voice.

Yet he asked a fair question, despite how unfairly he may have phrased it, at least to her. He deserves a fair answer, and maybe it will make him think. Rey wants to burst into tears and tell him what is really tearing her heart to pieces, but she is too proud for that. And at the same time, she cannot lie, not totally. So she replies:

"Because I don't want your power. I don't want your protection." And before she can stop herself, she adds quietly, almost whispers it. "All I want is Ben Solo."

She expects him to fly into a rage, shout her down and insist that Ben Solo is dead; that he, Kylo Ren, killed him. He was weak and foolish, like his father. So I destroyed him. But she does not feel the rage surge in his Force identity, the presence in the Force that is flickering all around her. But, no, instead, Rey senses... torment. Agony. Desperation to give in to her demands, yet resignation. And... hopelessness?

"If I could give you that love right now, I would." And he adds an admission of his own, whispering it like it is a curse. Or maybe a prayer. "I am lost without you, Rey."

And suddenly, he is as gone as quickly as he appeared, the Force's energy sucking away like the silencing of the winter wind.

For many hours afterwards, Rey just stands there in her nightgown, speechless. She only briefly ponders if he was present to see her dressing, and the thought oddly makes her cheeks burn. No, what she is more focused on, and troubled by, is the last thing he told her: If I could give you that love...

That love. She had never mentioned love, that she wanted his love. His, or anyone else's. She had merely admitted, in the most damning of ways, that she just wanted him. Ben Solo. All but confessing that she... misses him...

Oh, Force... did he sense that she...? Her thoughts fly forward to Ben's own final confession: I am lost without you, Rey.

Lost? Lost without her? Confused and filled with pining despair, Rey collapses onto her bed, her eyes prickling with tears she refuses with all her might to shed, as she falls into a deep sleep.