Ben felt pain, betrayal, shame, anger, all cycling powerfully, unpredictably through him. The feelings weren't his, and he guessed this was a consequence of their signatures flaring and being so close.

He'd felt this deeply before, but he normally couldn't handle them well. It pulled him further into the darkness, and that darkness then spiralled outward into destruction-of himself or of whatever object happened to be within reach. But he didn't feel Rey going to that darkness. Her light may be flickering a bit with the intensity, but it didn't go dark all all. Ben shook his head, and it made him feel weak, anything but capable, and wholly unworthy of her.

"Stop. Please, Ben. Stop." He felt a push. He disconnected from her emotions, and saw her body relax.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. He hadn't even thought that if he could feel her, then the inverse would be true. That she could feel him, and it affected her. Ben needed to get a hold of himself. He took a deep breath, trying to forget about the overheard conversation between his parents, his feelings-which now included shame.

Rey tried to move her head to better see this broken man beside her. She could realize some of the extremes she vaguely remembered from when she was in the darkness must have been from him. His pain had just intensified her own. The logical part of her, hardened to the realities of life, the young woman she'd grown into, recognized that her parents were probably never coming back. But the little girl inside her, still held out hope. She had several memories or possibly they were dreams of that day. And maybe one was reality and maybe none of them were.

In one, the most frequent that surfaced, she saw through little eyes, and her throat burning from shouting and sobbing as she saw the back of a woman with her hair, and a taller man, walking away from her. Boarding their ship and never looking back. She'd sat in the burning sand, hands trying to protect her eyes from the blinding sun, but watching long past when her vision could track their ship. Hoping that they realized they'd made a mistake-that they would return for her.

In another, she cradled bloody hands to her chest, staring without blinking at the hole she'd dug. It took so long, their bodies were cold despite the heat, and were swelling up. Her mom's face was purple and an unnatural dark blue, and a trickle of blood ran from her mouth. But Rey could not bear to turn her face down into the sand like she'd done her father. Her mom's eyes were still open, and though they were lifeless and no longer held the warmth and affection Rey had learned to count on even through the days where there was never enough to eat or drink. She was young, but she knew that her mom had been putting extra on Rey's plate, taking less and less for herself. Rey tried to protest but never could for long because the emptiness of her stomach cried out to be filled. That dreadful morning, four days ago, Rey had woken to sand beating against their makeshift hut. She peeked out and sure enough, a storm was building, it would be a bad one based on how the sky was darkening this early in the day. She put on her boots and pulled back the flap and called for her mom and dad. There was no answer, but the sleds they'd rigged to haul parts were missing.

There was no food to be had the night before.

But if there was one thing her parents told her more than I love you, was that a Jakku sandstorm was nothing to be underestimated. You didn't go out when it was like this. It was the beginning of a rage. You couldn't see more than mere feet in front of you, and sand went up your nose, and caked your goggles. The ships would sink or rise from the shifting sands and if you got into the path of sinking, you were never to be seen again, unless the ship was later uncovered and your bones were preserved inside.

Rey ran, pulling her tunic over her mouth and bracing her feet when there was an especially strong gust of wind. She heard a neighbor calling for her, but she didn't stop. She needed to find her parents. But her little legs would only take her so fast, and the woman with leathery hands that lived in the next hut over picked her up and plopped her in the tent. Jemma was her name, and she sat in front of the door keeping Rey inside for the next 16 long hours until the storm had calmed. Jemma gave Rey a quick hug and a whispered good luck. And Rey walked some of their favored routes, keeping her eyes peeled for her parents. She called out every couple of minutes and sometimes fellow scavengers would answer, but they hadn't seen her parents, they too had been inside their homes waiting out the storm.

Just when the sun had started to descend and Rey knew that she should head back unless she wanted to meet dangerous wildlife and face the cold with no protection, she saw a glimmering. It was a battered ship that she hadn't seen before. She picked up her pace and climbed through the half buried opening and saw her parents. She called out to them, voice getting louder and louder as she got closer. But they didn't answer, and they didn't move. No matter how long Rey shook their bodies and begged for them to wake up, nothing changed. She knew that they were dead, but she didn't want to face it. As the last rays of sun dimmed and disappeared from the horizon, Rey snuggled into her mom's side, crying until she fell asleep, clutching her mom's hand.

Digging a hole big enough for them took much longer than she'd ever imagined. She found what she could from the ship to help, but things took even longer as her hands bled, black dots danced across her vision and she was moving sluggishly, as though she was halfway buried in the sand.

Just as she was about to roll her father into the hole she'd made, she heard Jemma calling her name. Rey croaked out an answer, hoping like mad that Jemma had water. That she brought answers, and hoping against hope that Jemma would be able to do something to bring her parents back to life.

Jemma did have water, and she gave it to Rey, and she took over. Jemma rolled her parents into the sandy grave as gently as she could, and shoveled sand until it was barely noticeable that anything had disturbed the sand to begin with.

Rey blinked, and instead of being encased in the worn, bony arms of Jemma, she was encased in strong arms, muscles tense but somehow all that strength held her with such gentless. "Oh, Rey. I'm so sorry. I will try to find out what really happened to them. But please don't leave once you're healed," his voice got quieter with each word, but Rey could swear she heard a desperate cry of don't leave me.