Forgiveness

Kylo stood on the edge of the wreckage, staring into the crashing waves of the sea. Physically, he felt like the best he'd ever been in his life. His body was full of energy and any traces of fatigue had been expelled. Even his scars had vanished. Where there were once dozens of scars all over his body was now smooth and perfect skin. Even the scar that Rey had given him so long ago on Starkiller Base was gone.

Rey…

He was stricken dumb with her confession. With her act of mercy. With her compassion, and possibly something more...

And not to mention his mother… dammit. Her death had carved another hole in his already empty heart, bringing the unbearable feelings of emptiness, loneliness, and abandonment to surface. All the pain from his childhood dredged up from where he had tried to lock it away. It hurt so much more than his lightsaber had.

His hand went to his stomach instinctively. The wound was completely gone. He wasn't even sore. Where a gaping, ugly hole of cauterized flesh should have been, he was only met with smooth, unmarked skin.

If Rey hadn't healed him, he would be dead. It was an extraordinary display of power, something that was supposedly a powerful ability from the dark side of the Force. His grandfather had been seduced trying to seek it. But Rey had healed him from a place of light, a place of warmth. She never ceased to amaze him.

When Rey had stabbed him, he wasn't exactly surprised. Everyone expected them to fight to the death because their goal was supposed to be to kill each other. But Kylo had put that thought so far away as he was trying to turn her, as he grew to care for her, that it became a half-forgotten memory.

Suddenly, Kylo was very glad that he hadn't been able to turn her. She would have lost herself as he had, and he would have lost the Rey he cared about. The dark side version of Rey wasn't the one he cared about. She likely would have gone down a similar path as he had, and he didn't want to wish his pain on her.

Over the course of their connection, they had come to care for each other in a way so deep and so complex that no one else could understand what they had. A dyad in the Force, two that were one, extremely rare and precious. It bound their souls in a way that connected them both physically and mentally across the stars. They could sense each other's feelings, their intent. So he knew that neither of them had really wanted to kill each other.

So while he knew Rey hadn't really meant to kill him, it still hurt, not just physically. Although, dying by Rey's hand seemed better than any alternative. It made sense at least. It's what she should do. But she saved him, instead. Why? He knew he deserved to die for all of the horrible things he had done. He was a monster, hadn't she said so herself? And he had wholeheartedly agreed with her. But Rey had decided to save him, to heal him.

Her confession that she did want to take his hand had rocked him. Even though they both suspected this to be true, hearing her say it out loud was completely different. It made it real, not just a fantasy. But she had made it clear that it was Ben Solo that she wanted.

Kylo no longer tried to deny the fact that Ben Solo still existed, Rey brought it out of him every single time, but it wasn't exactly simple. His identity was so convoluted and confused that it was hard to distinguish between the person he used to be, and the person he was trying to be. He could at least try to let go of his resentment, his anger, his hate. But would that be enough? He wasn't even sure that he had the right to become Ben Solo again. He didn't deserve that. Besides, everyone he loved was gone.

First, his father, who had been stabbed and murdered by his own son. Fucking hell, he knew he would have nightmares of that moment until he died, and even then they might still haunt him.

Then his uncle. Kylo still carried a burning resentment towards Luke Skywalker, but he was still family. For a moment, Kylo allowed himself to think back to a time where Luke was his hero, his mentor, someone to look up to. He had sensed the moment Luke had died, and he fully registered that it was the effort and self-sacrifice his uncle had made to stop him that had cost Luke his life. Which made Kylo responsible, even if he hadn't struck the killing blow himself.

And his mother...damn the stars, his mother. He had chosen not to kill her when he had sensed her on the bridge of the Raddus. He couldn't do it. Snoke had called him weak. And now, his mother had died reaching out for him. Knowing full well that it would cost her her life, and despite all of the horrific things he had done, she called to him with love and forgiveness that he didn't deserve. She had called him back to the light, back home. But she was gone now. All of his family. Gone. Because of him.

And then his thoughts drifted back to Rey. His head swam and his heart raced at the mere thought of her. Fuck, what was wrong with him? He wasn't a desperate, love-struck boy- His thoughts trailed off. No, that's exactly what he was, wasn't it?

Love…

He nearly lost his footing on the edge of the wreckage.

Her act of healing him had come from a place of compassion and love. Somehow, for some reason, Rey cared for him, loved him enough to literally give up some of her own life to save him. And at great cost to herself-he saw how exhausted she was afterward.

He could still see her anguished gaze, her cheeks dripping with ocean spray and tears, her hair plastered to her neck and forehead. He could still remember the way those water droplets clung to her eyelashes, how close she had been, the way her lips parted as she concentrated. She had looked tortured, ashamed, feelings that Kylo had come to know all too well over the course of his life. He had wanted to brush her tears away, to alleviate her pain, but he had been too shocked to move.

Her confession not only revealed that she had wanted to take his hand, but it was also an affirmation of her feelings for him, and his for her. The powerful connection they shared, the compassion and understanding that they held for each other. The undeniable feeling of coming home to each other, and their mutual sense of longing and desire. He could still feel the warmth of her gaze and the warmth of her hand over his chest.

Her act of mercy, of compassion, combined with her confession, had shattered the barriers over his heart. The dark restraints that had tormented him since he was a child were completely eradicated. For maybe the first time in his life, his thoughts were truly his own. Snoke wasn't there to feed into his doubt, Sidious wasn't trying to manipulate his thoughts with twisted lies. Kylo could think for himself.

So he stood there, at the edge of the wreckage, staring out into the ocean, lost in thought. The wind blew his wet hair across his forehead, his clothes still dripping with ocean water, as he gripped his lightsaber tightly.

"Hey, kid."

Kylo froze. That voice, the familiarity, the love, it was like a punch to the gut. He swallowed hard and steeled himself before he turned. Kylo turned around and met with the warm gaze of Han Solo.

His father had his worn leather jacket over a wrinkled, white shirt, with a half-cocked posture and his signature half-smile. His blaster was in its holster on his leg, and his boots were stained with oil. His gray hair was a little longer than Kylo remembered, and Han's jaw was covered in light stubble. His eyes still had that glint of mischief, but it was as if that had been subdued by sorrow and hardship.

Kylo felt like he couldn't breathe, and his heart was racing in his chest. Han Solo was dead. This wasn't real. It couldn't be real. Nevertheless, his hands were shaking as he stared at the familiar face of his father.

Han gave him a small smile.

"I miss you, son," he said. Kylo's breath caught in his throat. He hadn't been called that in a long time, hadn't claimed that identity for years. He hadn't been worthy of that title; he wasn't sure he had ever been. Before he could let emotion completely overwhelm him, he forced himself to speak.

"Your son is dead," he said. But even as he spoke, Kylo could hear the tremor in his voice, and he cursed himself for being weak. Han gave him a sad smile.

'No," he said, stepping towards him. "Kylo Ren is dead." Han now stood face to face with him as he continued. "My son is alive."

Unable to hold his father's gaze, Kylo's eyes flitted down. He scanned Han and used this as an opportunity to regain control of himself.

"You're just a memory," he said, but the realization brought him no relief. He was shaking, and it was taking everything in him not to completely break down.

Han simply smiled at him.

"Your memory," he said, softly. Kylo stared at the apparition of his father, unable to say anything more. He was right. Kylo was reliving the moment on Starkiller Base. His gut twisted and he felt like the pain was going to consume him.

Han smiled again and urged gently, "Come home."

Kylo shook his head vehemently, desperately trying to cling to the darkness within him, to the belief that he simply couldn't anymore.

"It's too late," he said, and he tried to speak again but was stopped by the hard lump in his throat. He forced his trembling voice past and continued, "She's gone." He wasn't sure if he meant his mother or Rey. He supposed it was both. They were both gone.

Han smiled sadly and Kylo's grief renewed. "Your mother's gone," Han said. "But what she stood for, what she fought for, that's not gone." Han gave Kylo a meaningful look. Kylo could only stand still as his body shook and his mind raced. Han looked at his son tenderly with so much love, it was overwhelming. "Ben." His voice was so gentle, so forgiving, that it nearly broke Kylo.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and he knew what he had to do. He had always known. He had just been too stubborn, too lost, and too bitter to realize it.

"I know what I have to do," he said, reprising the words he'd said on Starkiller Base. "But I don't know if I have the strength to do it."

Instead of Han taking the lightsaber like he had last time, he lifted his hand to rest on his son's cheek. Rey had been right. He hadn't been able to forget the warmth of his father's hand, the rough calluses, and the acceptance in his eyes. His father's eyes held all the love, forgiveness, and faith in the galaxy.

Han smiled gently. "You do," he said. His father believed in him. He remembered that there was a time where he had wanted to be just like his father, and all he had ever wanted was his father's approval and affection. Now, he began to understand that he had had it all along, he had always had his family's love. His father, his mother, Rey, and even Luke had forgiven him in the end.

He raised his lightsaber and looked at it for a moment. He remembered the way it had felt between him and Han, and the horrible screech of the weapon as it ignited and impaled his father's chest. This time, Han didn't take it.

He looked back up at his father, suddenly feeling very small, like he was a boy again.

"Dad…" he said, his voice trembling. He could no longer keep his tears at bay, and his breath shuddered as tears ran down his cheeks.

Han Solo looked at his son with a warm smile and said, "I know."

Filled with sudden resolve, his father's love, and forgiveness, Ben Solo turned and launched his lightsaber with all his strength. It sailed into a high arc before disappearing in the ocean waves. When he turned around, his father was gone. But it was ok, his father had forgiven him, and Ben's mind was no longer in turmoil.

Ben felt so much lighter without the weight of his lightsaber, and the darkness that had haunted him since birth. He took a long breath and thought for a moment. He had to get back to Rey. Knowing her, she was going to go to Exegol alone. Ben couldn't let her do that.

Ben made his way back down the wreckage and was suddenly annoyed when his long black cape snagged on a piece of metal. He shrugged it off, leaving it on the durasteel. His tunic was soaking, and the wind only made him that much colder. He tore that off too, leaving a light, black, sweatshirt on. He touched the hole in his shirt from his lightsaber. He didn't mind, he had more important things to worry about.

Unencumbered by his heavy clothes, Ben found it much easier to run back to the wreckage, and coax a TIE fighter into flying. It took fucking forever but when he finally got to hyperspace, he only had one goal in his mind. To just find Rey, to help her.

Ben could now finally accept how much he cared about her, how much he loved her. He didn't have any doubt that he did. If anything, his affection for Rey had been one of the few constants in his life. He had to let her know that she wasn't alone, to keep the promise he made her on Ahch-To. Ben wasn't sure what would happen after he found her, but then he decided that it didn't matter. As long as he was with her, he was on the right path.

Author's Note:

I'm so sorry for the late update. Life has been crazy lately, but the move is done and summer school isn't terrible so I should be getting back into a more regular pace.

Originally, I was going to put this chapter with the scene where Rey talks to Luke, but since I haven't posted in so long and that this feels like a good stopping point, I decided to split the chapter up. I know some people are gonna complain that Han Solo being there was just fan service, I'm gonna respectfully disagree. I think it's great that Ben got to make peace with his father, and I'm sure that this particular scene was meant for Leia. For Leia to project herself to Ben one last time and then dying. Tragically, with Carrie Fisher's passing, they obviously didn't have the footage for that. But I thought it was a beautiful parallel from the scene in The Force Awakens. And I think it's safe to say that by now these two idiots (Ben and Rey) can finally realize and admit that what they feel in their connection is love, don't you think? It feels right to have them realize this just before Exegol and then having them be so happy seeing each other. I hope you guys enjoyed reading, but on a more serious note, I'm gonna end this super long Author's Note on a more somber message.

I just want to say that my heart and prayers go out to everyone in this pandemic, and especially those who have lost loved ones due to police brutality. Seeing what happened on the news made me sick, and the way that peaceful protests are being handled is disgusting. What happened to George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and so many others is horrible, and no one should EVER have to go through something like that. I pray for our Black brothers and sisters in God's name, that they would be protected, that they will get justice for the wrongs done to them, that God would help the families heal and use this time to bring people together, and help us learn to forgive the ones who have wronged others, while still getting justice for what they've done.

The state in which America is in breaks my heart and is sickening to see the way politicians are handling this. It's sickening to see police suffocate a man who's repeatedly said, "I can't breathe," or to see a video of a policeman brutally attacking a student at a peaceful protest, or seeing police throwing tear gas and shooting rubber bullets at people. It's so sad to see a repeat of a pattern from 50 years ago during the civil rights acts, or even 150 years ago during the civil war. You think we would have learned something by now.

I don't know why this is happening, I leave this in God's hands, but my deepest sympathies and prayers go to everyone who is suffering from this. I'm so sorry this is happening to you and to others, and I will pray and hope for this to end soon where there is a world where everyone is respected and loved, no matter what their skin color is. There is a lovely and inspiring video on YouTube that's called "we need more." I would highly recommend checking it out, as I can't put a link in here but if you search "we need more" I'm sure it will come up.