Hi everyone!

I just wanted to say thank you for all your responses on my stories, it really means a lot to me.

This story comes from a post on tumblr by magnatolvan that you can see here: post/169356970504/i-need-rey-to-go-back-to-jakku-in-episode-9-i

This'll be in two parts.


If you asked anyone about Rey, they inevitably spoke of her bravery. Those who fought beside her spoke to their enthralled audiences of how she rushed headfirst into battle, lightsaber at the ready, a battle cry on her lips. She'd become something of a legend among those who were a part of the war, be it the Resistance or First Order. Rey was capable of facing down an entire army, yet she was wholly incapable of facing her own demons.

Rey chewed on her lip as she peered out of the Millennium Falcon's cockpit, the engines humming idly after she aborted the atmosphere entry sequence.

The war ended over a year ago. The First Order was strong and relentless and Rey was often forced to question whether they would survive or not. It had taken a month for the entire organization to come crumbling down. Rey knew by the silent bond he'd been involved - there was no other explanation for the total and abrupt destruction of such a vast enterprise. She'd felt the connection thin until one morning she could no longer feel him. That moment nearly coincided with the fall of the First Order.

This moment, however, had been years in the making. Rey had spent her entire life idealizing those who abandoned her, staring up into the beautiful blue sky after scavenging for hours in the blistering sun, watching ships take off and longing to climb aboard one. Rey watched, knowing she had to remain behind. She had to. If she wandered all over the galaxy, how would they find her?

Jakku. Her home.

When referencing Jakku as her home, Rey only ever saw it as the place she'd spent most of her life. That's the term people used when explaining where they were from, yet she could see in their eyes that most were proud of where they began. She'd heard dozens of people glowing with pride as they talked of their childhoods. Rey never said a word, lingering in the background. She knew all of the nooks and crannies of Jakku, understood the seedy underbelly of the trading posts – she recognized that people were commodities just as her packets of rations were. Rey understood that she hadn't had a real childhood. Children didn't toil beneath the excruciating heat until the sun set, hoping they'd collected enough junk to survive another day.

Leaning over with a deep breath, Rey began to entry sequence once more. Her eyes flickered momentarily to the empty co-pilot seat. She'd asked Chewy to stay behind for this trip. He grumbled, but eventually relented.

The blinding sun was all Rey could see as the ship shuttered and groaned beneath the pressure. When the sandy landscape came into view, Rey's heart jumped into her throat. It was amazing that after so many years away she could recall every detail of the place, down to how the sand chaffed her skin after working its way through layers of clothing.

There was a smattering of outposts across the desert and Rey made her way to Nimma. She'd always traded there for as unfair as Unkar was, the others were even worse.

Rey landed close to the trading post – closer than the guards liked, based on their angry growls directed at her as she stepped from the Falcon. She simply allowed her robes to fall open, letting the glare of the sun strike the hilt of her saber. Abruptly the snarls ended, feet shifted unsurely in the sand, wariness pulsed from them in waves.

Recognition washed over those who were huddled beneath tents, scrubbing parts until their fingers bled, trying to make them shine in an attempt to gain half a ration more. Rey's eyes brushed across their worn faces, sensing their crushed spirits. One face stopped her for a fraction of a second. And old woman – the same old woman she'd studied the day BB-8 rolled into her life sat there, unabashedly staring at her. The day Rey had first noticed her; she could remember the motions of her brush stopping as she studied the woman's wrinkles, wondering if that would be her. Would she spend her life here as this woman had? Would she still be working when her bones ached and her spine bent?

The woman was nearly a skeleton now. Rey speculated how she could have survived this long with the amount of work one had to do simply to eat. Without a doubt Rey knew the woman was nearing the end of her life. The elderly, young, and ill never did flourish there. It wasn't possible. If you were unable to scavenge, you were unable to live.

All work had stopped as fierce whispers and tittering rumbled beneath the soiled canvas flapping in the hot breeze. Rey watched as word of her return swept down the line. She had planned to stride into Plutt's with her head held high, demands flowing powerfully from her lips but the whispers would reach him in a few moments. Rey had spent her whole life going to him. This time, he would come to her.

As if he'd been prompted, Unkar Plutt's hulking body exploded from his abode, slimy and unwashed as always. Rey found herself sneering at the mess, resentful that she once had to grovel to such a being. He was barreling towards her, raging and gesturing towards the Millennium Falcon. Rey ignored him. Her fury was building. With a confidence she'd never displayed before while in his presence, Rey marched forward, yanking her lightsaber free. The purple blade ignited with a screech, settling at the level of his flat nose. Plutt was forced to skid to a stop lest he impale himself.

Rey was silent. She wanted him to see her, see the girl he had control over since she was old enough to scavenge. She wanted him to know that she had the power now, not him and his leering smile and skin-crawling suggestions. Rey needed him to see the rage in her eyes. She needed him to understand that she could cut him down with a flick of her wrist and not a grain of remorse would she feel. Rey wanted him to remember this exact moment for the rest of his miserable life.

Time crawled to a halt for just a second. The galaxy seemed to draw a breath and hold it.

A quiver. A flash in a pair of beady eyes. Fear.

Rey wanted to smirk when she saw him tremble, but her anger was too great.

"What were their names?" she spoke softly but her voice was hard as steel.

For the first time in her life Rey witnessed Plutt at a loss for words. She suspected none of his workers had ever spoken to him with such force before. If they had, he would have withheld rations for at least a week.

"Their names!" Rey demanded.

"Nineva and Tucrola." His voice wobbled.

"Their graves."

His eyes flickered to her lightsaber for a brief moment before he met her gaze again. The hum of the blade sounded like a roar between them. Rey twisted her wrist slightly, a thinly veiled threat.

"The pauper's graveyard."

Rey fixed him with a long stare before deactivating her lightsaber and deliberately returning it to her belt. She turned but didn't step forward.

"You will return to your post and give each person who approaches you enough rations to eat three meals a day for a week, no matter what they trade in."

A pause.

"I will return to my post and give each person who approaches me enough rations to eat three meals a day for a week, no matter what they trade in." Plutt responded absently.

Without a glance Rey headed into the heat of Jakku for what she hoped was the final time.