A/N-For about five months now, writing this story has been a labor of love for me. From its earliest beginnings, this fic was always meant to be an exploration of various mental health issues. It's a topic that's become very important to me over the past several years, and I wanted to write something that allowed this subject to be the major focus and not just a background theme. It's been such a rewarding experience to write about mental health through the lens of Rey and Ben's stories.
I had one major goal while writing this: Be as honest and compassionate as possible. These kinds of struggles can be frightening and rough, and I didn't want to shy away from that. Progress is often interrupted by backpedaling, and that can be both frustrating and discouraging for those who face these issues. But I also wanted to show the fear and uncertainty of the people "on the outside." Though their struggles may differ, loved ones might be fighting battles as well. If you or someone you know has wrestled with some of the things in this story, I hope you find a personal connection in Rey and Ben's struggles.
As this story focuses on several mature topics, I've included content warnings in the author notes at the end of every chapter. Please read them if you need to. I also plan to keep an update schedule of every two weeks. The majority of this story is already written, but there are unfinished pockets scattered throughout that aren't completed yet. I shouldn't have any trouble keeping my schedule, but I'll let you all know if it looks like there's going to be a delay.
And finally, I want to dedicate this story to my husband. He's been my beta reader, my sounding board, and my cheerleader whenever I struggled to find the right words. Love you, Nate.
Quarterstaff in hand, Rey picked her way through the hulking remains of a wrecked Star Destroyer. The structure creaked and groaned as the unforgiving desert winds blew against and through the metal. Over it all, she heard the rhythmic swish of sand as she trudged through an open hanger bay. Rays of scorching sunlight pierced through the damaged hull to the ground below. Though she was covered from head-to-toe in the loose-fitting garments that would protect her from their direct onslaught, she avoided the patches and opted to skirt the edges of these burning pools.
Something deep within Rey beckoned her into the labyrinthine corridors of the derelict ship. She couldn't be sure what it was, but it gnawed at her like an insatiable hunger. She felt the distinct lack of something she didn't understand, and the summons held the promise of fulfillment.
As she made her way further into the Destroyer, the light dimmed, and the moaning of the wind faded to nothing. Eerie quiet pressed in around her. Dread crept down her spine as she approached the end of a corridor. Something was wrong.
"Ben." Her voice bounced off the walls in an endless echo.
Rey wasn't sure why his name came to her lips. But in that moment, a knowing intuition whispered to her. Ben was in distress. Something lurched inside her, and she increased her pace. As Rey reached the end of the passageway, she was suddenly aware of the burning grit of sand between her toes. Looking down, she realized with a shock that she stood naked and unprotected in the dark of the ship. The heat radiating off the metal seared her exposed flesh. A fine sheen of sweat broke out over her body. Her quarterstaff was gone. As Rey's panicked brain tried to comprehend the abrupt turn of events, an unstable red light flickered around the corner in front of her.
Swallowing through the heavy foreboding that had settled in her chest, Rey stepped into the light. Ben stood naked with his back to her, his lightsaber in his hands as if ready to fight. Its threatening blood-red glow silhouetted him in the claustrophobic space. The muscles of his back tensed with palpable fear. She could hear the panic in his breathing. She could feel his suffering. It struck the very core of her. Rey's throat tightened as she moved toward him.
"Ben," she said with as much calm as she could muster. He didn't respond or give any indication he'd heard her. Her eyes darting to the lightsaber blade, Rey reached out. She grasped his right bicep in her hand. "Ben?"
He spun to face her. Staggering back, Rey narrowly avoided the weapon in his hands. No longer naked, he stood before her clad in black cloak, tunic, and pants. The harsh sound of distorted breathing filled the corridor. When she looked at his face, the mask of Kylo Ren stared back at her.
Though the lack of a weapon already put her at a distinct disadvantage, Rey felt an instantaneous power imbalance: He was clothed and she was not. A primal instinct within her screamed "threat!" and "danger!" as he advanced on her. Rey's wide eyes tracked the plasma blade when he swung at her again. Pulling back, she felt the heat as it almost grazed her exposed chest.
"Ben, stop!" The animal part of her brain urged her to flee. But the logical part knew that he'd catch her without difficulty. Unarmed and with nowhere to run, Rey felt an overwhelming surge of helplessness. He took another menacing step toward her and swung again. Metal burned into her bare back as she retreated into a wall. Tears sprang to her eyes as unrelenting terror flooded her veins. He stood in front of her, his lightsaber crackling inches from her body. Rey was trapped. "Please don't do this." Her voice was tremulous and small. "Please don't fight me."
As if in slow motion, she watched him angle the blade to thrust into her chest. Despite the helmet he wore, she heard a tortuous cry of anguish in Ben's unaltered voice. As the plasma tore through her body, his scream eviscerated her soul. The agony of it surpassed the searing pain of her own flesh. She didn't think a person could be capable of such raw torment.
He jerked the lightsaber from her torso, and all the strength left Rey's limbs. She swayed and fell against his cold unyielding chest. She was dimly aware of his gloved hands grasping her upper arms. Rey felt the strength in those hands as they lowered her to the ground. She stared into the bottomless black of the mask that loomed over her. It held nothing. There was no Ben in it.
Rey's eyes tracked Kylo's hand as it hovered over her bloody injury. A renewed white-hot pain shot through her as he pressed his palm into her wound. She would have screamed if not for a paralysis that gripped her entire body. She was trapped in her own head as her eyes begged him to stop. The weight on her chest grew intolerable. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. Panic ripped through Rey with the same power and ease as the lightsaber. The unrelenting pressure of his hand never ceased, and her vision darkened around the edges. Her field of view narrowed to Kylo's empty and emotionless mask. He stared at her in silence.
Rey's heartbeat thudded in her ears until it slowed and slowed and slowed.
THUMPTHUMPTHUMP. thumpthump... thump. thump… thump… thump… thump… … thump … … …
/ / /
Rey woke gulping for air as a ghostly weight disappeared from her chest. Bringing a hand to her heart, she jerked her body to look behind her. The Millennium Falcon's cockpit was empty. She was alone, and all was quiet but for her panicked gasps. She was hyperaware of the heartbeat beneath her palm. It was strong and unrelenting in its endless task.
Shaking, Rey settled back into the pilot's seat and forced herself to slow her breathing. After a long moment, she groaned and ground the heels of her hands against her eyes. She'd dozed off. Again. Under normal circumstances, she would've welcomed whatever reprieve she could get. Her insomnia had worsened over the past several months. She could only ever find a few hours of sleep at a time, and her frequent nightmares only made it that much harder. But Rey was flying alone to the outer reaches of the galaxy. The idea of sleep was irresponsible and out of the question. Glancing at the chrono, she noted that she'd forced herself to stay awake for over thirty-four hours already.
Rey slumped and stared at the transparisteel canopy. The gentle flicker of hyperspace danced across it. She might have found it beautiful if not for the reminder of why she was there in the first place. Her brow furrowed as the weight of it pressed onto her shoulders. Not for the first time, Rey wondered if she was making a mistake.
Eight months. It had been eight months since the disaster of Crait. Eight months since she'd left Ben kneeling before her in the ruins of that abandoned base. She swallowed and closed her eyes against the shimmering light above her. Eight months of silence from the man she shared a Force bond with.
Until a week ago when he reached out to her. Now she was flying to meet him, and Rey didn't know what to believe. Was he being honest? Had he actually turned? Her heart leapt with hope before she admonished herself for indulging in senseless optimism again.
The visceral dream returned to the forefront of her mind, and doubt sowed its poisonous seeds. The images of Kylo's empty mask and the lightsaber that ripped through her made Rey queasy. It may have been a nightmare, but the pain was all too real. The physical weight she'd felt upon waking disturbed her. She shivered at the memory of the sensation. Perhaps it was a warning. Perhaps the Force was trying to tell her something. Meeting Ben might be an error in judgement with catastrophic consequences.
Rey felt the familiar stab of failure and couldn't help but think of her missteps since Crait. As she struggled with Leia's lessons, she knew she wasn't what the Resistance needed her to be. Rey could tell the general was doing her best to impart what wisdom she could. But the pressures of coordinating a galactic war already demanded so much from her. She couldn't fault Leia for having so little time for an inept Force-sensitive woman that came out of nowhere asking for guidance.
No, Rey blamed herself for the lack of progress. Ever since Crait, her connection to the Force seemed weak and dulled. After its inexplicable emergence on Starkiller, it had ebbed and flowed with the potency of a power barely restrained; she surprised even herself when she quite-literally moved a mountain with it. But try as she might, Rey couldn't replicate the progress and ease with which she'd used it all those months ago. She now felt a strange insulation from the Force. It was like having deadened nerve endings. When she applied pressure, she could feel its presence but not the finer details and intricacies. Leia assured her that struggles were expected of someone who'd discovered the Force less than a year prior, but Rey's concerns remained. Why would her connection dampen after such an intense awakening? It was frustrating, and she knew the fault must be her own.
Her disappointment was compounded by the pressure she felt after hearing rumors of people referring to her as "The Last Jedi." Rey wanted to learn about the Force, but she felt unexpected bitterness whenever Leia's exercises touched on their teachings. Luke's refusal to help and guide her still stung, and her experience with him erased much of the idolization she'd once held. Her disillusionment with the Jedi notwithstanding, the moniker carried weighty expectations. Her progress with the Force had been on a negative trajectory for months. Rey would never be what the galaxy needed, and she couldn't shake the idea that she was just giving everyone false hope.
Feeling the need to prove her usefulness to the Resistance, she'd volunteered for as many tasks and missions they needed hands for. From the menial to the dangerous, Rey threw herself into every assignment with desperate intensity. But no matter where she went or what she did, she always felt as if she were falling short. She pulled herself in too many directions, and her focus suffered because of it. Even tasks she felt comfortable with were laced with the objective truth that she just wasn't good enough. Rey knew she could do better.
But no amount of effort she gave the Resistance could diminish the certainty she held in her heart: She wasn't worthy of them or their cause. Rey was just a scavenger from nowhere. They only thought she was significant because she could use the Force. But she wasn't even valuable enough for her own parents to keep her. Rey was nobody and nothing. Even now, she knew she didn't belong behind the controls of the fabled Millennium Falcon. It wasn't her ship, and she felt like a thief. Far more deserving people belonged in her place.
Rey was a pretender, a happabore that told everyone it could fly. If she looked down even once, she knew she'd crash to earth. But she just couldn't bring herself to admit her shortcomings to those around her. Whenever she thought of doing so, panic rose like bile in her throat. What if they didn't want her anymore? The Resistance had become a home of sorts. If they cast her out, Rey didn't know if she was strong enough to weather another damning rejection. Her stomach dropped with the sinking realization that it was only a matter of time. It always was. So she continued to flap her wings as the ground inevitably rushed up to meet her.
Given her inability to be of any real worth to the Resistance, Rey knew she couldn't pass up the opportunity for a rendezvous with Ben. If there was a chance he'd defected, it was well-worth any risk to herself. She still believed what she'd told Luke back on Ahch-To: Ben could be the key to the First Order's defeat. He could do for the galaxy what she could not.
Rey again felt an uncontrollable pang of longing at the thought of his return. Berating herself, she suppressed the foolish sentiment before it could lead somewhere hopeful. Ben coming back wasn't about her. She was nothing. This was about the safety of the galaxy.
The beep of the hyperspace alert broke Rey from her pensive thoughts. Sitting up straighter, she tried to rub the fatigue from her eyes. She pushed her doubts to the back of her mind and focused on the task at hand. Dropping out of hyperspace, a minor planetoid covered her field of view. She checked the scanners for enemy ships. When they found nothing, Rey breathed a sigh of relief. She entered Ben's coordinates into the computer, and the Falcon flew her halfway around the unnamed rock.
Before she left orbit, Rey performed one more scan. This time it picked up a lone TIE superiority fighter. She checked it against the Falcon's illegal registry of First Order ships. A lump caught in her throat. It was the Silencer.
"Okay," Rey breathed as she gripped the controls. The dread returned to her stomach. She ignored it. "You can do this." She descended through light cloud cover to a broad plateau of golden grass. Upon spotting Ben's fighter, she circled lower. With a thud that rocked the ship, Rey set the Falcon down not far from the Silencer. Cutting the engine, an unnerving quiet engulfed her. The silence made it all too easy for the doubts to rush back in. Am I doing the right thing? Her heart quickened as she stared across the grassland at the dark sleek form of Ben's ship.
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Rey let out a shuddering exhale as she tried to find some semblance of calm. It was a stubborn weak point in her lessons; the stillness of a quiet mind always seemed to elude her. Squaring her shoulders, she tried focusing enough to dip into the Force. When she slipped in with more ease than she expected, Rey lost her hold in surprise. The process usually took her several moments of concentration. Brow furrowing, she brushed against it once more. She could feel the background hum of the Force's energy as it flowed around her. It was like remembering a half-forgotten dream. The innate understanding she felt months ago flowed back in a slow but steady trickle. Rey shivered. Not for the first time, she felt an anxious unease with the mysterious power that connected her to the rest of the universe.
Disconcerted, she settled into the Force again. When she felt it flow through her, Rey couldn't help but pick up on Ben's signature. It vibrated across the plain, an incessant ripple that disrupted the centering she attempted. A breath hissed between her teeth as her eyes snapped open. Had the pull of his energy always been so strong? She couldn't remember. Time had dulled the memory of its chaotic tension. Her gaze fell once more on the Silencer. Somewhere across that sea of grass was the man that let her down, the man that destroyed much of the Resistance's strength at Crait. The man she shut out.
Rey swallowed past the bitter memory of the Supremacy. She knew she'd done the right thing by not accepting Ben's offer. She saw no good in his cause, in his bid to rule over the galaxy. Her anger and frustration boiled over during their last Force bond. She remembered her cold resolve as she shut him out of her life. She wanted him to hurt. She wanted him to know the disillusionment she felt at his grasp for power.
But the closing of that door didn't erase the memory of his anguished eyes. Rey knew the overwhelming pain she experienced before blocking him out wasn't her own. It was his. [betrayal] telegraphed just before the connection severed. She felt it like a hammer blow to the chest. Once she was certain the bond had closed, she staggered back and leaned against the wall as tears stung her eyes. Why did he feel betrayed? He was the one who forced her to make an impossible choice, one he had to know she couldn't make. He had no right to be upset with her.
After their separation, Rey tried everything in her power to foster the resentment she had for him. She wanted to hate him. She wanted to make it easier for her to pretend he wasn't worth saving, that he deserved whatever fate awaited him. But over the interim between then and now, the animosity, disappointment, and her own feelings of betrayal receded with the lack of contact. They were replaced with regret. As much as she tried not to, she thought of the throne room often. Without the bond as a constant reminder of her anger, she was able to replay their encounter over-and-over with a clear head.
Rey was embarrassed by what she saw in herself. It had been impulsive to pull the lightsaber from him without a thought for the consequences and how it would affect the delicate truce they'd achieved. She hadn't even attempted to seek common ground, to find another way. The pain in his eyes began to make more sense. Upon coming to this realization, she was left with shame. Answering his call for help, coming to him when he apparently needed her, she felt maybe she could start to make amends for the mistake she made on the Supremacy.
Being near him now, feeling the closeness of his Force signature, she grappled with the reopening of a wound she thought had scarred over in his absence. Absurdly, it felt as if a piece of her had been missing, and she was on the verge of recovering it. After eight months, she was still drawn to him for reasons she couldn't understand. In their time apart, she longed for his presence in a way she'd previously only felt when she thought of her parents. But the feeling he elicited was utterly alien and differed in all possible ways from that yearning she had growing up. She felt the pull of him as an intense ache beyond reason and beyond her control. It was a longing for wholeness…
Rey shook herself from the unnerving thought. She didn't want to contemplate what any of that meant. Not now. Standing, she tore her eyes from the Silencer. Before leaving the cockpit, she forced herself to pull the blaster from her thigh. With a lump in her throat, she examined the pistol to make sure it appeared in working order and was ready to fire if necessary. Holstering it with shaky resolve, she swallowed and made her way to the freighter's boarding ramp.
Lowering it to the planetoid's surface, she breathed in a mixture of unfamiliar scents. Nothing stirred except for a breeze that swayed the knee-high grasses of the gulf between her and Ben's fighter. One last time, she checked her hold on the barrier she'd erected between them and tried to project as much calm as she could muster. Inside, a heady mixture of anxiety and anticipation made her vibrate uncomfortably.
Walking halfway down the ramp, she stared expectantly at the Silencer. The glare of this system's sun prevented her from seeing into the fighter's cockpit, but she knew he was there. She waited, not wanting to leave the safety of the Falcon in case her darkest suspicions came to fruition. After a long moment, the hatch of the fighter opened and Ben hauled himself out. Dropping to the ground below, he waded through the tall grass.
The first thing Rey noticed was his attire, a simple combination of black pants and tunic. She couldn't help the rush of hope that overtook her at the absence of his cloak and Supreme Leader regalia. Perhaps Ben's insistence on this rendezvous was genuine. She didn't dare allow herself to give in to the enticing surge of optimism. Rey forced herself to suppress the sentiment.
Then she noticed his demeanor. As he came closer, something felt wrong. Unease crept its way up her spine as she took note of the way he carried himself. His shoulders were slumped and his eyes downcast. Not once did he look up to meet her gaze. As he neared the Falcon, though, he shook his head and raised his eyes to take in its bulk. Ben looked like a man being led to the gallows. He stared at the ground again.
When he reached the bottom of the ramp, he stopped and had no choice but to look up at her. Rey's breath caught in her throat when his profound gaze met hers. The only times she'd ever entertained the idea of seeing him again were when she resigned herself to the likelihood that it would be at the end of a lightsaber. Seeing him before her under very different circumstances caused her heart to constrict in conflicting ways. When she looked into his fathomless eyes, they conveyed so much and yet so little.
Verbally, they said nothing at all. She and Ben stood at an impasse as they waited for the other to speak. With only the breeze passing between them, Rey began to lose her nerve. She crossed her arms in an unconscious effort to protect herself, and her gaze dropped to his feet. She couldn't look into those guarded yet somehow expressive eyes anymore.
"What changed?" she asked in a quiet voice. When he didn't answer, Rey looked at his face again. It was obvious he struggled to translate what ran through his head to words he could say. Rey felt a pang of guilt and desperation. She wished the bond were open so she could get a sense of his emotions and inscrutable thoughts. When he finally spoke, it did nothing to alleviate her regret.
"I… couldn't be the monster anymore." Remorse consumed her as he used the epithet she'd hurled at him more than once in her anger. Rey wanted to erase it from their previous conversations. Over the past several months, she'd analyzed and overanalyzed their interactions to understand where she went wrong. She understood now how painful that word must be for him.
Rey remembered the trickling rain and crashing waves. "You are a monster." "Yes I am." Her heart twisted at the memory. Yes, he had done terrible, terrible things. But with her mind unclouded by hostility, Rey recognized the misery in his eyes when he didn't fight her assertion. What she said hurt him, yet he didn't disagree with her. What kind of person resigned himself to a role he despised? A role that others hated him for? That kind of self-contempt was something she couldn't fathom. Looking at him now, some profound emotion churned in his dark eyes. Her throat was tight, and she didn't know how to answer his statement.
But Rey could tell that what he said was the truth. Even without the aid of the bond, she saw it etched into his body and face. He looked so tired, so deflated. Her relief mingled with sadness at the emotional state he found himself in. He wore the look of a weary man with nowhere else to go. Rey supposed he must be desperate if he chose to reach out to her of all people.
"You're nothing…"
Her thoughts consuming her, Rey broke eye contact and looked down at a point somewhere between them. She swallowed and nodded once as she wordlessly invited him onto the ship. She turned and walked up the ramp. Ben followed, his footfalls reverberating through the metal.
As she reached the top of the ramp, [anguish] suddenly suffused the bond. Suffocating, Rey stumbled under the weight of its crushing torment. She gripped the edge of the hatchway for balance. As if under water, she heard Ben call her name. Rey could barely focus on anything except the secondhand pain she was experiencing. Despite the barrier she'd kept in place, his emotions had forced their way through. She wasn't unfamiliar with the predicament; during their months apart, she would occasionally feel bursts of intense feeling from across the galaxy.
But this… Perhaps it was the physical proximity and the sheer power of the sentiment, but Rey felt his sorrow as if her mental defenses weren't even in place.
Shocked, she looked at Ben while drawing in ragged quick breaths. He seemed to come to a realization, a mixture of embarrassment and fear contorting his features. Rey felt an abrupt end to the pain. It was replaced by a wall of nothing as Ben closed the gap in his own barriers.
His throat bobbed before he said in a terse voice, "We should get out of here." Ben continued up the ramp, stopping briefly before moving past her and into the Falcon. Still clutching the ship for support, Rey stared after him as pain twisted in her gut. Oh, Ben. His agony had been all-consuming. She could barely breathe with it cloaked over her. How did he even have the strength to function under the weight of it? How could anyone live like that?
Unsettled, she took a moment to steady her breathing before securing the ramp and hatch. Rey turned down the access tunnel to the cockpit. She slowed at the sight of Ben standing just outside the entrance. He stared into it, his hand flexing in rapid agitation. When he didn't move, Rey awkwardly edged pass him and felt a slight flush at the warmth radiating off his body. She avoided making eye contact.
Upon entering, her attention was immediately drawn to the blinking comms panel. A message had come in over the emergency band. Brow furrowed, she activated the alert. The sound of Ben's tense commanding voice filled the small space. He read off a string of numbers that Rey recognized as a set of galactic coordinates. Their coordinates. Rey turned to him in disbelief as the message continued.
"S.O.S. S.O.S. This is Supreme Leader Kylo Ren. All First Order vessels within the vicinity must respond immediately to my location. I repeat, all First Order vessels within range must-"
The message cut off abruptly leaving a deafening silence in its wake. Rey's stomach lurched as the realization sank in. He'd deceived her.
Ben worked his jaw. His feet shifted. "Rey-"
Before she knew what she was doing, Rey pointed her blaster at him as her face twisted in betrayal and distrust. Her eyes flicked to the lightsaber on his belt before meeting his gaze. Ben raised his arms to the height of his head. Her nerves fired with anxiety. He still hadn't entered the cockpit, and she didn't have a full view of his hands.
As if speaking to a frightened animal, he said in a measured voice, "I need you to blow up the Silencer."
Thrown off balance by both his deception and the odd request, Rey tightened her grip and asked suspiciously, "Why?"
In the same maddeningly calm tone, he replied, "The First Order must believe that I'm dead. If Hux suspects I've defected or have been captured, they'll change their codes, reposition their ships, and relocate their bases and troops. The Resistance can't afford to lose such an advantage. I can't let that happen."
Rey's blood thudded in her ears. She was torn between distrust and a desire to believe him. Was it another trick? How could she know if what he said was genuine? She swallowed as her mind supplied her with the memory of his now-cruel words from Ahch-To: "You're not alone." But it was a lie. He'd only wanted power. He only wanted her for her help in dethroning Snoke. He'd already lured her to him once with the false promise of hope. Why would this moment be any different? Her unflagging optimism had caused enough pain in her life. Rey wasn't the naive fool she'd been eight months ago.
Even so, she couldn't bring herself to pull the trigger. Something inside her wanted to give in to his words, to believe that he had actually turned. She wanted them to be on the same side. A voice within told her to look at him, to really look at him. She fought to calm her mind enough to truly focus on the man in front of her. She saw the distress in his eyes. She saw the way he left himself exposed and unguarded. But what caught her attention wasn't something she could see; it was something she felt.
Ben was desperate. Despite the barriers between them, it rolled off him in waves. The longer she deliberated, the more potent it became. His body began to tremble.
"Please."
Rey choked at the plea. She remembered the bare way he'd said that one word in the throne room. She remembered his suffering expression, the way his hand shook slightly as he'd extended it to her. She looked at his eyes now. The same agony burned through them. She'd rushed to judgement then. Her impulsive choice brought the consequences of Crait and months of crushing silence and ever-worsening loneliness. That same voice inside reminded Rey of her resolution to give him another chance. She needed to trust him. She needed to have faith in him.
Rey lowered the blaster. Ben's eyes widened and his hands came down as well. The tension of the standoff eased. The discomfort between them did not. Feeling every bit of it, she looked away and fiddled with the holster on her thigh longer than necessary. Rey realized she was guilty of the same mistake Luke had made the night Ben decided to join Snoke: She pulled her weapon on him without trying to understand him first. Her face burned with shame at her brash decision. You're doing this all wrong. When Ben spoke, she reluctantly pulled her eyes up to meet his.
"You don't have to worry about troopers arriving any time soon. We're well outside the First Order's operational area. Though we really shouldn't stick around if we can help it."
Still reeling from the whiplash of the last couple minutes, Rey grasped at the chance to move them beyond her error in judgment. "Won't they find it suspicious that you're out this far?"
Ben shrugged. "Hux thinks I'm hunting for Sith artifacts. If he cared to validate my story, he'd find enough fabricated documentation to support me coming to this system."
If there was one thing she did trust about Ben, it was his intelligence; he would've been thorough. But she didn't want to leave the First Order with any thought that he might actually be alive. On this, Rey figured two minds were better than one. "What about… uh… your lack of remains? They'll find no sign of a body when they come to investigate your mayday."
"I disabled thedeflector shields, including the fail-safes. The Silencer is a prototype; it'll look like a catastrophic failure in the reactor containment that any half-decent engineer could diagnose from my falsified logs. So long as the ship takes a hit, there won't be a body to find." Ben paused, a glint of something appearing in his eye. "Or much of a ship, for that matter."
Rey allowed herself a faint smile at his slight attempt at humor and relaxed just a bit. She supposed it was as good a plan as any under the circumstances. Trying to ease the tension further, she made a halfhearted joke. "Too bad we don't have a spare body to put in your place."
There was a brief silence before, "Well, I might be a monster, but I'm not going to kill someone just to use their corpse as a prop."
The unease flooded back into the room. Ben swallowed and stared at her. Had he used that term to remind her of the way she continued to judge him? To remind her that she was still jumping to conclusions about his motivations and who he was? Rey realized she hated the word. She felt self-conscious and exposed; she didn't want to be under the weight of his gaze anymore.
Turning away, she said, "We should probably get going." Grateful for the distracting task, Rey lowered herself into the pilot's seat and fiddled with the controls. "Do you want to take care of the Silencer from the turret?"
"... Sure." Ben's voice sounded quiet and strained. Just before she heard his brisk steps recede down the corridor, another burst of emotion crashed through the bond. [escape] Rey felt it like a punch to the gut. She looked over her shoulder as he disappeared.
When she was sure he'd gone, she released a shuddering breath. Slumping forward, Rey leaned her forehead on the console. She felt tears stinging the corners of her eyes. She'd done it again, and she was only making things worse. Ben couldn't wait to get away from her. The bond said what his mouth did not: He wanted distance between them.
But she didn't want that. If his turn away from the First Order was genuine (and all signs pointed to that being the case), Rey felt an intense need to mend what they'd broken. The problem was, she didn't know what they had in the first place. They were essentially strangers. What little time she'd spent getting to know him before Crait seemed like a drop in the much-larger ocean that was Ben. His depths were unfathomable, and Rey felt she had no hope of truly understanding him. With the bond closed, he was just another person.
Except he wasn't. Despite their conflicts, Rey had experienced a true sense of intimacy with him on Ahch-To. She'd never felt that way with anyone else. She didn't know why she'd done it, but she instinctively sought Ben out for comfort after her unsettling revelation in the cave. During that Force bond, Rey felt unexpected gentleness and understanding from him. Her entire life had been devoid of that kind of closeness and warmth. They laid bare a lacking she tried so hard to ignore. The exposed wound stole the breath from her lungs.
Rey surprised herself by how willing she'd been to reveal vulnerabilities to him. From a young age, she learned the hard truths of why she had to hide them from the eyes of others. It terrified her to let him in. But she remembered the undeniable compassion that radiated from him in that moment. It was such an intense feeling of sympathy, she still couldn't understand it months later. The affinity she experienced when their hands touched… Rey felt a squirming sensation in her stomach that made her heart race. She could feel his longing across the galaxy.
But now… Rey mourned the loss of that singular moment of intimacy. Her choices in the throne room had caused irreversible damage to whatever they'd begun to build on Ahch-To. Yes, Ben shared some of the blame. But she was the one who chose brash action instead of discussion. Rey glimpsed something tantalizing, something she wanted and needed in that hut. But her maneuver with the lightsaber destroyed any chance she could have it. It was gone, but the wound it exposed was left untreated and refused to heal. Rey couldn't help but feel like some important opportunity had passed her by. A crippling despair overwhelmed her at the widening gulf between them. Rey allowed it to consume her like a masochistic rebuke.
After a moment of self-indulgent reproach, she wiped the tears from her eyes with a rough hand and shook the thoughts from her head. Stupid, she chastised herself. You're nothing but a means to an end for him. Swallowing her regret, Rey slipped on a headset and readied the Falcon for flight. Just as she began to wonder why Ben was taking so long to join her on comms, she heard the timbre of his voice in her ear.
"Ready."
Rey flew the ship well above the Silencer to avoid the catastrophic explosion. When she thought they were in the clear, she gave Ben the go-ahead. She closed her eyes as the ship below them blossomed into an incandescent fireball. They'd created a sun in miniature. After the light disappeared behind her eyelids, she stood to survey the damage. A blackened crater marred the once peaceful meadow. It burned at the edges. The Silencer had been reduced to bits of white-hot metal that glowed in the heart of the dark cavity. Seating herself once more, Rey said over the comm line, "I'm leaving the atmosphere now… Hold on."
It didn't take long for the sky outside the Falcon to darken. The vastness of space engulfed them as they left the planetoid behind. Now what? Should she chart an immediate course for the Resistance? How did Ben want to proceed? For reasons Rey didn't understand, dread settled in her chest like a stone.
"What do we do now?" The silence on the other end dragged on too long.
"… I don't know." Ben's voice sounded small and uncertain in her ear.
TW: Terror in a nightmare. Rey feels trapped and helpless.
TW: Physical violence in a nightmare, but it's not particularly bloody.
TW: Rey engages in negative self-talk and has numerous harmful ingrained beliefs about her self-worth. She'll struggle with these throughout the story.
If you feel that readers could benefit from more warnings, just let me know.
A/N-Thanks for reading! If you're enjoying the story so far, please feel free to comment if you wish.