A/N-I finished the editing for this chapter early, and I have plenty of spare time today, so I figure why not upload a day ahead of schedule? I hope you all enjoy this massive chapter :)
As always, content warnings are listed at the end of the chapter if needed.
Doubt gnawed on Rey's mind as she fiddled with the cloth in her hands. Did his emotions mean what she thought they meant? How could they? She felt another stab at the disgust he'd shown in the engine room. But the feelings he'd just sent had an unmistakable tinge of honesty and impulsiveness. Rey felt a renewed ache of confusion. She couldn't understand what he wanted. The whiplash of his rejection and apparent desire for her presence was becoming increasingly painful and intolerable.
As she weighed the likelihood of another agonizing rebuff, Rey noticed the enigmatic pull toward him was fiercer than ever. She couldn't tamp down the tiny ray of hope it created. What am I doing? Her mind cautioned against it, but she bit her lip and opened the hatch to the cargo hold anyway. Ben paced the small space like a caged animal. He froze the instant he saw her. His jaw worked, and his wide eyes flicked over her before settling on her face with abnormal intensity. His shock confused her until she felt the cold of the space on her bare skin.
Rey had never been shy about her body. She didn't mind that other people had seen her in various states of undress over the years. She never thought twice about how they viewed her because it was always a practical necessity. Sometimes she had to shed layers for comfort or for the sake of cleanliness. The ability and opportunities to wash her clothes on Jakku were few and far between, and old habits were still hard to shake. Despite her increased access to clean garments, Rey couldn't tolerate the grease stains that would make her even dirtier; everyone already knew she was filthy and gross. For all these reasons, she'd stripped a couple of garments in the heat of the engine room. Rey had been sweating, and they were useful padding for her hip as she lay on the floor. It was practical.
But standing before Ben in her trousers and breast band... She felt exposed in a way she'd never considered before. Rey became hyperaware of the fact that he'd slept without a shirt. A familiar ache of attraction took root somewhere deep in her belly. It writhed at the thought of her hands on his naked torso. A growing blush fought against pinpricks of cold as they erupted across her skin. But reality smothered the alluring pull with brutal words of truth. You already know he's disgusted by you. It's obvious he doesn't want you in that way. [embarrassment] Rey suppressed the urge to cover her chest with her hands.
She was about to excuse herself when Ben grimaced like he was in pain. Her humiliation was briefly overshadowed by concern until a powerful revulsion overwhelmed the bond. A renewed stab of hurt and dismay mixed with her embarrassment at the strength of his aversion. Ben groaned and dropped his head into his hands as he sat on a crate. He gripped and released his hair with such violence that Rey was certain it had to be hurting him. Just leave. He doesn't want you near him.
But she was afraid for him, and that forced her to stay. After his breakdown outside the cockpit, Rey was terrified of leaving him alone. He was in distress. If she left him, what would he do? At the same time, she was anxious that saying or doing the wrong thing would cause more harm. But she had to try. She wanted to help him. If he pushed her away, if keeping her distance made Ben comfortable, she'd endure the sting and offer support from afar. Rey swallowed and approached as an overwhelming sense of responsibility settled on her shoulders.
"What's wrong?" [compassion] "Can I… help in some way?" Despite his uneasiness with her presence, she wanted him to know that she was there for him. She wasn't helpful during his panic attack, but she needed to try again. She might fumble her way through it, and she may be far down the list of people he wanted around him, but she was determined to aid Ben in whatever way she could.
A long moment passed as a combination of guilt and shame clouded the bond. He finally looked up at her with a plea in his eyes. [helplessness] "What do I do from here? How can I live a life that's already ruined?"
Taken aback by his blunt appeal for help, Rey's confidence evaporated. She felt out of her depth. She was sure that whatever advice she offered him would have some significance in whether or not he chose to live. What if she gave the wrong answer? A heavy weight sat in her stomach as she tried to swallow her fear. Her mind raced from one optimistic plan to the next. They were unlikely and unhelpful. How could she give him hope when she struggled to reconcile her own disillusionment with it? It only ever blinded her to her circumstances. She stayed on Jakku for fourteen years because of a foolish and optimistic belief that her parents would return to her. Hope had been a detriment to her happiness, not a help.
But Rey felt the necessity to reevaluate its worth as she watched Ben struggle with his despair. She remembered his utter hopelessness outside the cockpit. She remembered how destructive it had been. Rey shunned hope when she realized it had betrayed her. Yet she understood now what the utter lack of it could do to a person. The false hope she'd held for so many years had been a weakness. It had been self-deception wrapped in the guise of faith. But maybe hope, real hope, could be a strength. Ben needed that kind of strength. Not false hope, but an honest and realistic path forward that didn't ignore the problems he faced. Rey thought of her time on Jakku. She thought of the wall of tally marks she kept year after year. It had been a testament of her willingness to blind herself. Maybe for Ben, it could light the way.
"Ben. You... you do it day by day." She looked down at the grimy cloth in her hands. "There's no real plan for how you go about it. It seems impossible. It feels like a pain that will never end. But you take it one day at a time." She brought her gaze back to his. [sincerity] "It's all you can do. It's all anybody can do. We just... have to have hope for a better tomorrow."
She could almost see the battle raging in his mind. Something in him shifted from uncertainty to resolve and back again. But he was fighting, and that gave her courage.
"I don't know how." His powerlessness was palpable and thick in the bond. Rey's hands itched to reach out to him. With a deep ache, she quashed the temptation. "How can I live 'day by day' if I can't live with... me?" [self-hatred] Rey flinched at the intense harshness he projected. It was such a cruel way to think of oneself, and she was appalled by his contempt. Rey remembered the oppression of the torment he'd subjected himself to because he thought that was all he deserved. She felt a forceful urge to push against the belief. For the first time since their eyes met on the boarding ramp, Rey stopped overthinking her words. A fire burned in her chest, and she let it speak for her.
"You can't change the past. What's done is done. But you can change what happens from here. You don't have to be okay with everything you did." [conviction] "But you make the choice every day to show yourself and others kindness. If you can be kind, maybe you can start to forgive yourself. Maybe you find that condemning yourself only causes needless pain and suffering. It doesn't solve anything, and it doesn't help anyone."
She breathed heavy into the silence that followed. The bond was awash with despair, and Rey felt a renewed doubt and anxiety. She was saying the wrong things. He looked even more despondent, and it just made her feel helpless too. What should she say? What should she do?
A little voice whispered an answer through her fear. Be compassionate. It seemed too simple. It seemed inadequate. It was the only thing she'd been able to do outside the cockpit, and it didn't seem to help. But she wanted to support him and relieve his pain, and it was the only direction she had. With some skepticism, she tried once more to focus on his feelings and let them guide her. She only felt his utter hopelessness, and her heart fell as it mourned for him.
Rey just wanted him to feel like he had a future. She wanted him to be at peace with himself. She sighed with [sadness, entreaty]. "Your life doesn't have to be an endless punishment. You're not undeserving of happiness." She sensed his surprise as unreadable thoughts flickered behind his eyes. But after a moment, he swallowed and looked to the floor. She could feel the push and pull of his conflict in the turbulent emotions that clouded the bond. She watched him in disbelief. Was she actually helping him? Rey couldn't hold back the surge of optimism she felt at the thought. You can do this, Ben.
Encouraged, she knelt, forcing him to look at her. He dragged his gaze up to meet hers. There was something in his eyes that looked like it could crumble. She was reminded of the sense of brokenness that had been revealed during his panic attack. It almost pained her in a physical way to recall the feeling. Ben wasn't broken. He was just lost and hurting.
[sympathy] "Ben, you're not 'unsalvageable.' Maybe you can't see that you've changed, but I can. You're trying to be a better person, and it shows. You told me last night that trying didn't count for anything, but it does. It means everything from the man you were to the man you are. But you have to be kind enough to give yourself a chance to see that." Ben dropped his eyes to the floor again. His jaw worked, and Rey could hear him drawing deep breaths through his nose. She began to notice something other than doubt and despair in the bond. It felt light and tentative, but it was definitely there, and it was fighting. The conflict in him raged stronger than ever, and she could see him a moment of silence, he looked up at her as tears gathered in his eyes. He seemed to have trouble finding the right words before finally speaking.
[desperation, uncertainty] "How do I face the people I've hurt?" His voice was thin and cracked like shattered glass. The fire within her subsided, and softness replaced it. Ben's body trembled, and he looked as if he were on the verge of breaking apart. She just wanted to gather him in her arms and hold the pieces together. He asked about the people he'd harmed, but he was hurting himself too. Rey recalled again the deserving punishment she felt from him. She sensed that the wounds he'd inflicted weren't recent. They felt old and scarred several times over, and she speculated that his torture began years before killing Han. She thought of what that must do to a person, to be in an endless loop of guilt, self-hatred, penance, and pain. To feel that they deserved nothing better. Rey felt an ache in her heart. She wanted to break that cycle. She wanted him to feel like he could deserve better. But she wouldn't lie to him.
[gentleness, sadness] "Facing those people is going to hurt, them and you. They're gonna be angry and upset and in pain, and it's probably going to be overwhelming. It sounds daunting, and it is. But if you meet them with kindness and understanding, maybe they'll forgive you. And maybe they won't. You can't control how people feel. All you can do is let compassion guide you to make the best choices you can.
[entreaty] "But you have to start with yourself, Ben. You have to learn to live with yourself in a way that isn't so harsh and severe. It's cruel, and it's crushing you." [sorrow] "You need space to breathe. You're remorseful for your actions, and you deserve a chance to prove that you're a better man, not just to those you've hurt, but to yourself too. And who knows? If you show yourself compassion, maybe it can bleed out to others. What you embody can make a difference in someone's life." [hope]
Surprised, Rey pulled up short when she felt her own optimism enter the bond. Maybe it was just a small thing, but it was genuine. She hadn't allowed herself the comfort of hope in so long. But she realized she did hope for Ben. She hoped he could find a way to bring peace to himself and others. She hoped he could see a future for himself. She hoped. And for the first time in months, she didn't think it was just foolish optimism. Rey swallowed past a sudden thickness in her throat as she stoked the small fire. She pushed the feeling into the bond, and her eyes searched his in an attempt to read its effect. "You live your life kindly. That's how you live with yourself."
Ben looked overwhelmed and dropped his gaze away from hers. She watched in silence as some mental calculation played out in his head. After a moment, she was suddenly thrown off balance when his face darkened. Rey felt a pressure building from his side as despondency, hatred, and cold fury flooded the bond. His brow furrowed, and he had a distant look in his eyes. His breathing quickened, and tears fell. He didn't seem conscious of the world around him. Though the feelings differed, Rey recognized the look as similar to the one he wore during his panic attack.
Dread poured over her. She was terrified of losing him to his spiraling thoughts again. She needed to bring him back down. She needed to keep him in the present moment. Rey sensed the strongest ire of [self-hatred], and she felt a renewed urgency. Breathe for him.
"Ben." He looked at her, and his gaze slid back into focus. Rey swallowed as his eyes lost their far-off stare. They were pleading with her. In her fear, her own breathing had escalated. Her heart was a quick flutter in her chest. She made a conscious effort to slow herself down. "Just… follow my breathing, okay?"
Ben stared at her before nodding. He closed his eyes and took several shuddering breaths. She felt a slow de-escalation in the bond until his anger almost vanished. The pressure from his side eased, and Rey could breathe easier. He eventually looked back at her, and she felt his [shame]. Her heart twisted with a profound sadness.
[entreaty] "Please stop thinking of yourself that way."
Ben's eyes searched hers. "What way?"
"This way that's so… unforgiving. It isn't fair. You can't keep hating yourself." [appeal]
Silence fell between them, and Ben's eyes filled with tears again. There was no hope in them, and her heart fell too. His whole body sagged under some unbearable weight, and he asked in a tremulous voice, "What if that's all I deserve? What if I can't see myself any other way?" [despair]
Her own eyes grew wet as she shook her head with dismay. "That can't be the only way. That can't be all there is for you." [sorrow] Rey tried to swallow her tears through a thickened throat. Her words came out strangled and pleading. "Right now, you have a choice. You either make the decision to redefine yourself, or you let the past dictate who you'll become. What kind of person do you want to be? Someone you hate? Or someone you can be proud of?" Her desperate eyes searched his. He looked on the verge of crying as a renewed pressure built in the bond. "If you want to be a better man, then be one. Give yourself a reason to look in the mirror without feeling hatred. Give yourself a chance to become the man you want to be. Please." [entreaty] Tears slid down her face as a weight settled in her chest.
Ben's eyes were red as his whole body shook, and she felt she could see his soul laid bare. The heaviness in the bond steadily built until it brimmed on the cusp of spilling over.
[earnestness, compassion] "Be kind to yourself, Ben."
It crested and gave way. Ben sucked in a breath as tears escaped. His face twisted, and he covered his eyes with a trembling hand. His shoulders shook with quiet sobs, and her own silent tears ran alongside his. The bond descended into a chaotic mess of emotion. Rey could pick out sadness and shame and pain, and she didn't know what to do. A powerful [embarrassment] overwhelmed their connection, and he cried harder as he covered his face with both hands.
Rey's hands twitched as she replied with a choked, "No, don't be." [entreaty, acceptance] She almost reached out. She wanted to comfort him and soothe his distress. But she felt the same powerlessness that consumed her outside the cockpit. Anxious and uncertain, Rey could do nothing but wait as she pushed [solidarity, compassion] into the bond.
As Ben stared at Rey in the hatchway, he kept his eyes on her face in an attempt to keep them from her body. Upon seeing her, an unmistakable jolt of physical attraction shot through him. His pulse took a noticeable upswing as the sight of her bare skin ignited a hunger he thought was long dead. Ben couldn't help the thought of his hands roaming the soft contours of her body, her warm skin smooth beneath his…
At the same time Ben felt her discomfort of [embarrassment], the dreaded roll of nausea gripped his stomach with shocking violence. A pitiable sound slipped from Ben's throat as he sat on the nearest crate. How could he want and not want something at the same time? He couldn't make sense of it. He was defective. But he was also ashamed and disgusted with himself. He felt lecherous for imagining his hands on her. He thought of Snoke's propensity for casual caresses of his face and arms.
Ben gripped his hair in iron fists. He wanted to vomit. He was abhorrent and vile. He was indulging in a sick fantasy that Rey would find repulsive. He could see and feel her growing discomfort under his gaze. She'd never want him in that way. Why would she? he thought with a stab.
"What's wrong?" [compassion] "Can I… help in some way?" Surprised to find her standing in front of him, Ben grew paranoid about the salacious thoughts he'd had of her. He needed to rid himself of those shameful ideas. He didn't want his depravity to push her away. She reignited the hope in him, and he didn't know what would happen if he lost her. The monsters wanted to devour him, and hope was the only thing that kept them from a feeding frenzy.
… But what does having hope mean, anyway? In practice, what could he do with it? Outside of his own mind, what difference did it make? He still had to live a life that was corrupted and beyond its use. How could he move forward if he and everyone else in the galaxy wouldn't forgive or forget the things he'd done? The fire in his chest grew smaller, and the monsters outside its glow snarled in eager anticipation of his fall. His stomach sank again. He didn't know what to do. He could feel himself slipping, and he looked to Rey for another lifeline.
[helplessness] "What do I do from here? How can I live a life that's already ruined?" Rey looked lost, and he could feel her fear in the bond. His heart fell. They were foolish questions that he couldn't possibly expect her to have answers for. Why was he putting this weight on her? It wasn't her responsibility to forge his path. Ben made the choices that cornered him into the mess he'd made, not her.
He'd burned his life down with the expectation that he would never return. But he willfully ignored the fact that other people still lived in the rubble, and they were suffering. Loved ones and homes were lost forever. Fathers, sisters, pilots, civilians. Mothers, brothers, politicians, fighters. They were all dead because of him. He was desperate to keep the hope he had alive, but the ghosts of his sins screamed and wept at the injustice of it. What gave him the right to move forward when others couldn't? He'd told Rey to let the past die. But he now felt that doing so would be a disservice to everyone he'd wronged. Moving toward the future seemed both despicable and impossible when the guilt of his past rightfully held too much sway over him. Even if he were allowed to move on, how could he accomplish such a monumental feat anyway?
He could take it day by day like she said. It sounded uncomplicated and easy. It was enticing to think that he could find the path forward by simply placing one foot in front of the other. It was enticing to think that a better tomorrow could even exist for him. He wanted to have hope. He wanted to live a normal life that wasn't plagued by voices and the heavy burden of conflicting legacies. He wanted to have the peace and happiness that Snoke had denied him.
But it wasn't just Snoke, and you know it. His self-contempt weighed him down further. No, it wasn't just Snoke. If anything, his old master's role was negligible and shouldn't factor in the slightest. It was all Ben's fault. His own free will led to all the deaths and hurt and loss at his hands. No one else was to blame. The waiting monsters hissed and spat in agreement as the hope in his chest guttered and shrank. Ben felt a profound despair. He hated the life he'd lived, and he hated the person he'd become. He didn't want to live a tortuous existence stuck in the body and mind of a man he hated.
When he put voice to this loathing and uncertainty, he felt a surge of righteous anger in the bond. The sentiment pulled him from his own head as he focused on Rey. Her eyes were bright and shone with a fiery passion. They commanded attention, and Ben was locked in her gaze. Her conviction mingled with empathy into something compelling, and he felt the insistent pull of her words like a compulsion.
"You don't have to be okay with everything you did. But you make the choice every day to show yourself and others kindness. If you can be kind, maybe you can start to forgive yourself. Maybe you find that condemning yourself only causes needless pain and suffering. It doesn't solve anything, and it doesn't help anyone." Ben felt a profound weariness as he reflected on the futility of attempting to pay for what he'd done. He was achieving nothing, and his heart fell again. He saw something shift in Rey's eyes. The fierce edge left her voice, and he felt a warm plea in the bond. "Your life doesn't have to be an endless punishment. You're not undeserving of happiness."
Ben felt a jolt of alarming recognition.
"You don't have to punish yourself anymore… You're allowed to be happy. You're not unworthy of it."
It was so similar to what the hopeful woman told him in his dream. As he stared at Rey and sensed the power of her emotions, Ben felt as though she were the embodiment of hope too. The fire in his chest stirred and grew brighter. Maybe he could. Maybe he was allowed to be happy. He wanted to be happy.
You've deprived far too many people of their happiness to deserve your own. With resignation, he dropped his gaze from hers. The look in Rey's eyes made him want what he had no right to have. People like him didn't deserve to be happy no matter how much they atoned. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair to those he'd hurt. The best he could hope for was a life that didn't rip him apart with torment. Beyond that, happiness was asking for too much.
… But he wanted it. He really did. He felt hollow thinking of his past and the sparse moments of happiness that it contained. Everything else had been tainted by Snoke or himself or the bitterness he'd had for his parents and Luke. Happiness was never something he could have. It wasn't something that could ever be a part of his life. He'd accepted long ago that the Force never destined him for it.
Yet this resignation didn't stop him from despairing at his fate. Happiness seemed to come to others so easily. Why could he never have it too? In a life that had so little of it, was it too much to ask? When Rey knelt and he saw the open and honest kindness in her eyes, he wanted so much to believe that his life didn't have to be a punishment. He wanted to believe in the hopeful woman's insistence that there was a future in which he did more than suffer from pain and regret. He wanted so much to grasp for happiness.
Rey said she could see the changes in him. But he didn't feel like a changed man. He was still conflicted. He still struggled with his emotions. He was still a failure. He was still a murderer. But Rey was insistent that he wasn't the same man. Had he changed? Despite everything, was he actually a better person? He found it difficult to judge himself in such an objective way. There was too much hatred and too much guilt. Could he block them out enough to view himself the way she did?
Ben took several breaths and tried to clear his head. A moment passed, and he managed to force aside the thoughts that usually influenced the way he regarded himself. In the quiet of his mind, he supposed he'd reduced his tendency to lean on anger. He supposed he was more rational without that haze of rage. He supposed he had more concern for the well-being of others. He supposed that at least trying to do good as Supreme Leader was better than apathy or active harm. And he supposed he was taking steps to aid in the First Order's downfall.
Ben weighed these changes against the heaviness of his guilts. They still didn't seem enough to offset what he'd done. He thought of the punishments he'd inflicted on himself in the name of atonement, and his heart twisted. He supposed he could also acknowledge that he was intensely penitent for the actions of his past. He couldn't imagine Kylo doing any of those things. Ben felt the insistent tug of hope in his chest. Maybe he could accept that he wasn't the same man.
"You're allowed to live. You're allowed to be happy."
The conviction of the woman's words drew him closer to hope's warming flames. She'd been sure that he deserved peace. Like Rey, she must've seen something in him that he couldn't. The woman told him that walking his path wouldn't be easy, that he had to make a conscious effort to feed the light. Maybe this was part of that path. Maybe to move forward, he had to remind himself that he had grown as a person. He realized he really did want to be a better man. It wasn't born of a desire for atonement, but rather the hope that he could lead a life better than the one he'd lived. Ben felt an integral piece of information factor into the balance sheet he judged himself by.
Maybe he could accept that a genuinely remorseful man might deserve peace.
… But what about everyone else? How could he possibly make amends to everyone he'd wronged? At the prospect of facing all those people, he felt crushed under its weight. No one would forgive him. They hated him, and he couldn't blame them. Could he be selfish enough to grasp for happiness when they'd lost theirs because of him? As the light of hope dimmed, he grew more uncertain and overwhelmed by what lay ahead. The outline of the path became undefined and lost in inky shadows. As despair sank in again, Ben looked to Rey for a guiding hand through the dark.
"How do I face the people I've hurt?" His limbs felt cold and tingly, and his voice sounded fragile. His chest was heavy and he was afraid. But Ben felt the gentlest warmth in the bond, and he found a grounding point in the softness of Rey's eyes. They were filled with the same compassion he'd seen outside the cockpit. They promised safety and understanding. He tried to focus on them instead of the thoughts in his own head. He hoped any answer she gave to his question would be just as soothing. Some cowardly part of him wished she knew how he might avoid the inevitable confrontations he was afraid of.
But she told him the truth. She told him what he needed to hear rather than what he wanted. No, facing them wasn't going to be easy. He couldn't avoid their anger and pain, and it wouldn't be right for him to try. But maybe the answer really did lie in kindness and empathy. He thought of how Rey's compassion guided him through his own pain. It seemed like such an impossible feat considering how lost he'd been. But even now, it was protecting him from his monsters. He could do for others what Rey did for him. Maybe his own compassion could help those he'd hurt. Maybe it was the path that he could follow through the dark.
But she told him he needed to show himself compassion too. Ben's breath caught in his throat as something built in his chest. Kindness. It wasn't something he'd ever considered for himself. He was always the monster, and monsters didn't deserve compassion. When was the last time he'd been kind to himself? When was the last time someone told him that he could? With a stab, he didn't know. For as long as he could remember, he hated being in his own mind and body. There was always something wrong with him, and he caused so much pain because of it. He was never a good son. He was prone to anger, and his lack of control frightened his parents. He knew he was to blame for their separation. It was all his fault.
… But Snoke had always been there. He knew what the whispers of his previous master did to him because he knew now what he was like without them. He'd warped the innocuous into the poisonous, and the uncomfortable into the dangerous. Thinking back to those moments of fear and anger, Ben had difficulty differentiating his actual reality from Snoke's frequent twisting. With a sudden shock, he realized he couldn't even trust his memory or the observations of his own mind. It was yet another way his master carved pieces of him away until he was this damaged and incomplete thing.
He felt a massive and devastating blow to his sense of self. If the accumulation of a person's memories defined their identity, how much of him was Ben, and how much of him was Snoke? Could he ever truly be his own man if his master had already claimed so much? Snoke would always be an indelible part of him. He felt tainted and defiled. Ben despaired, and a powerful surge of anger and hatred built in his chest as tears burned his eyes.
He hated Snoke. He hated him for everything he'd done to him. He hated him for stoking the fears and anger of a scared boy. He hated him for being a part of the wedge that divided him from his parents. He hated him for the life he stole from him. What kind of man could he have been without his influence? Instead, he was this mangled and empty shell that hated what he'd done and hated his master and hated himself and hated-
"Ben." He found Rey's eyes. They were pleading with him. He felt the effects of his own anger. His mind was dulled and hyperfocused all at once. His breathing was quick and shallow. Rey leaned toward him a bit as her hand hovered over her heart. "Just… follow my breathing, okay?" He could see her taking in slow breaths. He could feel their calming influence in the bond. Ben closed his eyes and forced himself to reign in his anger. As he followed along with her, his circling thoughts slowed. A quiet moment passed, and their shared breathing filled the cargo hold. When the dullness dissipated from his mind, Ben was overcome by a sudden embarrassment. He'd done it again. He went straight to anger, and he felt ashamed of his lack of control. He sensed Rey's sadness in response. She dropped her hand to her knee and shook her head.
She said he shouldn't think of himself in such a hateful way. But what other way was there? If Snoke was an ingrained part of his identity, how could he ever be the kind of man that he didn't loathe? His master had already dictated so much of who he was. What hope did Ben have that he could rid himself of a lifetime of influence and corruption? He lost his most-important battle the moment he became conscious of Snoke's whispers. The voices in his head tainted everything, and he willingly gave up his ability to define himself as a person. He accepted their words as truth and allowed them to guide his choices without so much as a fight. He'd been a bad person, not a good one. He'd been violent, not peaceful. He'd been angry and bitter, not happy.
He was pessimistic, not hopeful. It was all too late. How could Ben ever be the kind of man he wanted to be when most of him was already fester and rot? He didn't know where the dividing line was between his master and himself, but it didn't matter. If a part of him always belonged to Snoke, then the whole of him was poisoned and deserved nothing but contempt. He felt crushed by hopelessness and the futility of trying to separate himself from the master that had ruined him so thoroughly. Ben may have killed him, but Snoke was a cancer he'd never be rid of. He owned him, past and future.
The light of hope dwindled to embers, and the monsters rushed in to shred him apart.
Rey stepped in front of him to block their path. She shielded Ben from their eager teeth and pushed against the darkness that wanted to devour him. Her compassion fueled the flames, and her sorrow was a powerful anchor that held him firm. They were air in his lungs, and a hope that refused to succumb. Despair loosened its grip enough for him to focus on Rey.
Her face was clouded with such anguish and sadness. Though these sentiments should've drowned him by intensifying his own, they were instead a healing pain in his veins. She was hurting for him, and he could feel how much she cared. But although they shared a bond, such a thing seemed almost inconsequential. He didn't need it to know she sympathized with him. He didn't need it to feel an affinity with her. They were two people joined by sorrow, and that felt more intimate and binding than a connection in the Force. She was proving to him the declaration she'd made outside the cockpit: He wasn't alone. He felt choked by the overwhelming relief of knowing she was there for him and wanted to ease his suffering. It was a warm embrace, and one that he so desperately needed in the cold.
Rey was fighting for him. Her eyes were filled with tears and pain, but there was intense passion and earnestness too. She wanted to protect him from his monsters, and Ben felt a certainty that she wouldn't stop until they were slain. She wouldn't give up on him. Her entire being radiated sorrow and empathy, and it gave him something to cling to. It gave him a point of focus. It gave him the strength he needed to stop himself from falling into despair. It gave him hope that he could be the kind of man that Snoke never wanted him to be.
But that couldn't happen if he continued to give his dead master control over his life. Rey was fighting for him, but it wasn't her responsibility to save him. He had to walk his own path toward whatever future lay in front of him. He had to make the choice to either feed his own hope or let the darkness close in on him. He had to choose whether or not to free himself from the clutches of the man that targeted and molded him from the youngest age he could remember. His vision grew blurry as a powerful resolve built in his chest. Ben needed to fight for himself.
"Right now, you have a choice. You either make the decision to redefine yourself, or you let the past dictate who you'll become. What kind of person do you want to be?"
He wanted to be a good one. He wanted to be someone that helped rather than harmed. He wanted to be at peace with himself. He wanted to be free to choose who he was. He wanted to be his own man.
"Give yourself a chance to become the man you want to be."
Would he let Snoke take that chance from him? Would he continue to give power to the man that pulled the strings of his entire life? Would he let him win? An emphatic defiance built in his chest, and he wanted to rebel. No. He wouldn't give that hateful and manipulative man any more control over him. He wouldn't let the part of him that was Snoke destroy the rest of him that wasn't. He may not know how much of him was influenced by his old master, but it didn't matter. He would write over him. He would root out the rot. He would take back what was stolen from him. He would dictate who he was without Snoke's whispers and without his cruelty and abuse.
"You don't have to punish yourself anymore… You're allowed to live. You're allowed to be happy. You're not unworthy of it."
He was a remorseful man, and he wanted to change. He wanted to prove he could be better. He would be better. He already was. He wanted to lead a more fulfilling life. He wanted happiness, and he deserved a chance to find it.
His heart constricted in his chest as his throat thickened. He deserved to be happy, and he believed it. He looked to Rey and all the kindness and caring that somehow managed to shine so bright and clear in her eyes. Tears burned in his own. He wanted to change himself for his own sake. But he wanted to be someone she would be proud of too. The whole time, she'd seen what he couldn't. She'd seen the man he'd given up on and prematurely buried. She'd seen who he could be if he'd just-
"Be kind to yourself, Ben."
He felt some massive thing inside him slip and give way. Ben cried. He'd never shown himself kindness. He'd never given himself room to breathe. He'd never given himself quarter or forgiveness. He'd never given himself reprieve from his guilt and self-imposed punishments. If he resolved to be compassionate to others, he needed to show it to himself too. But even though he recognized this, he couldn't help the humiliation he felt at breaking down in front of Rey a second time. An ingrained and unforgiving voice told him he should be ashamed of himself for showing such vulnerability. His tears were something that should be hidden and never seen. They were disgusting and made him unworthy. They were pitiful and made him weak.
But Rey told him it was okay. He could feel that she wasn't judging him. She accepted him and the emotions he couldn't bottle up or bury. Maybe for the first time in his life, he felt comfortable with the intensity of his own emotions. Another wave of liberation crested in his heart, and he realized he didn't want to conceal himself anymore. Ben dropped the hands that hid his tears from her, and he let her see him. He felt a strange need for Rey to witness him this way. It was granting her a level of intimacy that he'd never given anyone else. She made him feel safe, and this felt like letting her in. Ben stopped trying to hold back his sobs. He gave himself the room to feel the way he felt. He gave himself the permission to begin the process of clearing the poisons that had long-corrupted him. He gave himself the compassion to just cry.
He didn't know how long he wept, but it felt like a cleansing. He wasn't okay. He was tired and in pain, and his guilt was still there. But he seemed… better. He didn't feel an insurmountable dread for the future. Instead, there was a shaky optimism that what was to come might just be better than what had already been. He felt a lightness in his chest, and the fire of hope burned steady and certain. It assured him that there was a path ahead, and that someone stood beside him in the dark.
He wiped a shaking hand to clear away some of his tears. He took several steadying breaths before looking up to meet Rey's anxious face. He hadn't realized she'd been crying too. But there was so much care in her eyes and warmth in the bond. Something heavy built in Ben's chest, and he didn't know what to say. He opened and closed his mouth multiple times but couldn't muster the words to speak. She looked at him with an expectant expression, and he felt her worry. He squeezed his eyes shut and looked down. There was too much to say. There was too much in his mind, and he didn't know what was most important. He shook his head as he tried to bring some order to the chaos, but it did nothing. He looked back to her eyes in the hope that he might find some guidance.
She swallowed and gave him a nod of [encouragement]. Finally, Ben knew how to tell her what his mouth didn't know what to say.
[acceptance, gratitude, hope]
Some strangled sound escaped her as he felt a massive release of built-up tension. In an instant, relief overshadowed the anxiety in her tear-filled eyes, and a broad and shaky smile transformed Rey's face. Ben choked at the sight. It was beautiful. He felt a luminous radiance in the bond. It was the bright and pure sunshine of a frigid morning. She was so happy. New tears sprang to his eyes as the feeling overwhelmed him. It was infectious, and his mind clouded with a different sort of fog than the one that had shrouded him for so long. He wanted nothing more than to experience his own joy too, and there was only one thing that would make him as happy as Rey felt.
[want]
The air caught in Rey's throat when he reached out to her.
CW: Rey thinks of herself as "dirty" and "disgusting." When she thinks these things, she's referring to her qualities and value as a person and not just her state of cleanliness. She's convinced that other people view her this way too.
CW: Ben's suicidal thoughts are a major concern for Rey in this chapter.
CW: Unhealthy views of physical attraction. Ben thinks his feelings towards Rey are something to be ashamed of.
CW: A major focus of this chapter deals with the way Ben views himself; he's very unkind and unforgiving. He struggles with a lot of self-hatred and ideas that he's damaged or otherwise "tainted" and "ruined."
CW: Ben confronts the manipulation and grooming that Snoke subjected him to throughout his life. He feels these as a violation and a warping of his sense of self; he finds it difficult to separate his identity from Snoke. Ben thinks Snoke still controls and "owns" him, and he has some visceral feelings about these concerns.
A/N-In the next chapter, Ben and Rey's wants begin to intersect. Thanks for reading! Comments are always appreciated :)