Author's Notes…

Here we are!


How to Save a Life

Chapter Three

The Premonition

You are my sunshine…

Rey laughed in her hospital bed, covered in sweat from just delivering a child, her index finger held onto by a tiny hand.

My only sunshine…

The graveyard—the polished coffin—the grieving family. Rey stood with them, staring disbelievingly through the snow, filled with grief. She hadn't been enough. She'd failed herself, failed him.

You make me happy…

"No, no, no! I want to take the first picture!" Rey ganked Ben's phone out of his hand, dancing gingerly out of the way as he tried to get it back. Her giggles rang through the air, coupled with Ben's mock growls of frustration. Then the baby hiccupped, and Rey tossed the phone at him to run to the bed and smile down at their daughter.

When skies are gray…

An agonized scream ripped from Rey's throat as she sank to her knees in front of Ben's lifeless body. Tears poured down her cheeks, and choking on a sob, she reached out a hand to touch his pulse, knowing as she did so that she wouldn't find one.

You'll never know how…

Rey smiled as she climbed onto the bed, finding Ben asleep with their daughter curled up on his chest. His long lashes covered his stark cheekbones, and his usual grumpy demeanor was more peaceful. It made Rey lean down and kiss both of their foreheads, breathing in cologne and precious baby scent.

Much I love you…

"It wasn't good enough, nothing I did was good enough!" Rey sobbed hysterically. Her friend Poe grabbed her by the shoulders to drag her into a hug while he exchanged a worried glance with Finn. She couldn't seem to stop crying. "Why wasn't it good enough?!"

Please don't take…

"My sunshine away," Rey sang softly as she rocked her daughter gently in her arms.


Just hear those sleigh bells jingle-ing, ring-ting tingle-ing, too
Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you

Rey sucked in a huge breath.

"What is it?" Ben murmured.

Her surroundings returned, bringing with them the light tinkle of glasses and silverware, the murmur of diners, and someone's barking laughter. Ben was at her side, and the hostess stood across from her, holding their coats, her thin eyebrows raised.

"Um," Rey said with a clearing of her throat. "Nothing. I thought I had to sneeze."

She followed Ben through the restaurant, weaving through tables until they came to what had to be a VIP room. It was closed off from the rest of the place, in a dainty little room that carried the presence of the establishment without the people. Rey requested tea as she grabbed her purse, which she hadn't let the woman take, and zipped off to the lavatory.

Checking carefully that all the stalls were empty, Rey let herself into the largest one and dug in her bag for the feather. It was warm as it touched her fingers, resonating. It hadn't done that earlier, making Rey think that Sitrine had expected this call.

"What the bloody hell was that?" she hissed to the feather at large. She had no idea how to operate this thing.

I get snippets of possible futures when I request them, said a voice in the back of her mind, like it had the night before at the Christmas party.

"Why haven't you been requesting them all this time?" she demanded. Her ears were pricked, keeping an ear out for anyone who might come in there.

I told you. I'd grown lax. But now, with incentive, I've accessed them again. And I must say, things are either going to go really well, or—

"You'll be sent to hell in a handbasket?"

I am not going to dignify that with a response.

Rey set her teeth and heaved a sigh through them. She was ticked. "If I'm saving him, why bother showing me a future of him dying! Again!"

Because the circumstances had changed. Notice you were the one who found him after he died.

"Then what about all the baby stuff?" she demanded.

If you succeed, that will happen.

"I don't even want babies," she said.

You don't now.

Rey opened her mouth to argue before shutting it. He was just going to come back with some stupid, quippy answer, and she was already at the end of her patience after that little display. "Why do that the way you did? Why show me at all?"

It's incentive. On the one hand, you see what happens if you fail. And, on the other…

"It was twisted and creepy!" she said loudly.

The bathroom door opened, making her freeze, and she clutched the feather to her. A woman's footsteps echoed on the tile, and the creak of hinges was fast behind it.

I thought of it as a wondrous piece of work, said Sitrine, since he could. Winding two futures together like that is a feat.

A toilet flushed. The faucet sounded, the press for soap—a hand dryer, the bathroom door opening once more. Rey waited, counting down a minute before deeming it safe to continue this conversation with the guardian angel.

"Don't do that again!" Rey said. "I don't want to know the outcome unless I'm really fucking this up! Now eff off!"

Hardly daring to believe that she had gone off on an angel like that, she stuffed the feather back in her purse. As she came back into the restaurant, she fastened on a smile, glad she had dolled herself up today. She would have stood out like a sore thumb if she'd worn flats instead of heels—left her hair up instead of teasing it out.

She pushed open the door to their little getaway and set her purse down on a spare seat as she dropped into her own. She pulled her shirt and blazer down. A glass of tea with a lemon was waiting for her, along with her date, who was still frowning.

"What is it?" she asked. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing," he said. "You just—you're sure you're all right?"

"I'm splendid," she replied. And tried out a teasing smile for him. "I never imagined the infamously not nice Ben Solo would worry so much over a gasp—"

The reaction was not what she had expected. Instead of glaring or coming back with some snappy remark, an expression she couldn't place crossed his face, and then he was on his feet, completely ready to go. Seeing that made Rey's heart leap nearly out of her chest—she grabbed hold of his wrist.

"No—Ben, wait!" she said. "That's not—I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what did you mean it like?" He had let her halt him, but he wasn't looking at her. One wrong word, and he'd be out the door. And she couldn't let that happen.

"I feel special," she decided to admit. She could worry over how honest she was being later, when it was safe and she wasn't half out-of-her-mind that she had blown it. Damn Sitrine and his visions. They weren't helping anything. "All right? I like that—that you're nice with me, even if you're not with everyone else. Maybe especially because of that."

He still wouldn't look at her.

"Please sit down?" she begged him. "I'm having a nice time. I don't want you to go."

Tension drew his shoulders straight. His pride had come out now. She could tell from the flush to the tips of his ears. Either he was going to swallow that pride and sit back down, or he was going to let it fuel his anger and lead him out of here so he didn't make what he considered a fool of himself.

"I'll sing," she threatened. "I'm terribly off key."

He shook his wrist free.

She clung onto it, raising her voice in song, "FROSTY THE SNOWMAN—"

Ben covered her mouth with his hand, which was just as well, because now she was laughing a little too much. She couldn't help it. The horrified expression on his face had made it entirely worth it.

"All right, I'll stay," he said, narrowing his eyes at her. He lowered his hand, cupping her cheek in it, still kneeling in front of her. He stroked her cheek slowly for several moments before working up the courage to lean in, his eyes slipping closed.

Rey smiled as their lips met.

"Good," she said. "I wouldn't want to have to break out any other disasters." She was already laughing again.

Ben fell back into his seat. "Do you always sound like a cat on it's death bed?"

"Rude!" Rey gasped.

He gave a halting chuckle, as though unfamiliar with the sound. "You could have woken up the dead with that voice," he went on. "I'm going to find my great-grandfather's bones climbing out of the closet tonight—!" He cut off as she smacked him with her cloth napkin, his chuckle deepening.

"It is rude to insult a lady!" Rey admonished.

"That wasn't a lady. That was a toad serenading someone's funeral—Ow!"

"It doesn't actually hurt! It's dry cloth!"

"May I take your orders?" came a woman's voice, hitting it hard at the beginning. Rey didn't blame her. They had been making quite the racket, and now they sank into their respective seats, blushing from being caught acting like toddlers.

"No," Ben said. "We need another moment."

The waitress vanished, and they broke into more giggles. It was the sort of laughter that had no reason to form—that carried on gaily with no incentive—that fed itself when shared with another. It was a laugh that wouldn't make sense to anyone who hadn't been there to witness the joke. Not that either of them knew that the joke was.

That was the thing, though. Rey didn't care, and she didn't think he did, either.