Hello there! Yep, I'm still alive and writing this story. It's been about ten months since I last updated, and a lot has happened in those ten months. I won't get into specifics, but I'm back! I've been toying with this chapter forever, working on it way too slowly and I apologize for that. I'm still thinking about this story everyday, though. Mostly the ending I'm really looking forward to writing. I will try my best to get the next update out as soon as I can! For those of you who comment or are still sticking with this fic, thank you so much. I will finish it, I promise! And you might need to skim the last chapter before reading this one, since this chapter happens right after the previous one.

Chapter 8: To Hell with the Rules

London, 1910, Early Spring

I know that every time I leave you, the parting weighs heavier on both our hearts. I cannot express the deepness of my joy whenever I am able to visit you, to see you with my own eyes. To converse with you on matters big and small. I know as you get older that your studies are taking up more of your time, so I understand why you appeared more scattered while I was there. But know that I will be there for you to give support and–

A loud sigh rushed out of Lorraine's throat as her hands dropped onto her lap, the letter still secure between her fingertips. Head resting on the arch of the sofa, she gazed at the wooden beams that criss-crossed the ceiling, following the shadows they made from the fading sunlight as she reviewed the week that just passed.

Per usual with Ben's visits, the days went by quickly, a whirlwind of small parties and theatre admissions and shopping trips that left her room littered with all the latest fashion trends and trinkets. Lorraine was swept up by the appeal of being the center of someone else's attention, of being spoiled by Ben's affections and money. It was nice to be wanted. To feel special.

She missed Ben. Truly, she did. It was just….

Another sigh escaped her lips.

"Sweetheart, why don't you do all that deep sighing in your room," her mother told her, eyeing her from above her book. "Away from anyone who can hear you," she muttered, but loud enough to be heard.

Lorraine eyed both her parents lounging on the sofa on the other side of the sitting room, both so stoic in their leisurely activities for the evening.

Her father folded the edge of the newspaper, making eye contact with his wife. "Leave the poor girl alone. Can't you see she's heartsick?"

Heartsick… and confused.

Lorraine didn't know what to do when it came to her feelings toward Ben. She cared for him, yes, but every now and then, he made comments that just didn't sit well with her. Comments about how she should dress, who she should associate with, how she should fill her free time. He had become rather irritated when he found out she was involved with the WSPU – The Women's Social and Political Union. She could still hear the way he had said the word unfeminine, but radicals was the more simple label he called them by. In a longer description, they were a group of women who wanted to tear families apart and convince girls that wifely duties were beneath them.

Lorraine kept replaying that last part, because she was to become Ben's wife. What would become of her then?

A gigantic ball of anxiety had taken up residence in her stomach, and it was difficult to pinpoint the exact moment it had moved in. Could it have been there for a while? Not taking up too much room at first, but after a time, making a meal of her fears, its unbound gluttony allowing it to grow till bursting?

Placing a felt bookmark into her novel, Satine focused her attention onto her husband. "Ben literally left an hour ago. She couldn't be that heartsick."

"Young love, my darling" The newspaper crinkled as Lorraine's father folded and placed it on the side table. "I'm sure you remember how it was. All that pining and awkwardness and naivety."

Her mother scoffed. "Please. I was basically born with the maturity of an adult and the grace of a lady. You, on the other hand, are a lost cause and will forever be a child who likes to tinker with his toys."

Her father gasped, feigning offense. "Machines, Satine. Inventions. You wound me when you call them toys."

"Well, sometimes you give those machines more attention than your own wife."

"Awww." He scooted closer to her. "Are you jealous?"

"No." Satine was thwarted by the arm of the sofa, unable to acquire ample distance between the two of them. "You can go marry one of your automobiles and leave me be, I wouldn't care."

Her father chuckled. "If this is your cry for attention, my love, I hear you loud and clear."

Satine was momentarily baffled. "I don't cry for–"

"I'm still here, you know," Lorraine interrupted blandly. This was the typical way her parents flirted: her father teasing her mother, and her mother pretending to be peeved about it.

Lorraine's parents reoriented themselves on the sofa, a bright blush forming on her mother's cheeks.

Her father cleared his throat, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I know it's hard having to say goodbye to Ben, and only being able to see him twice a year. Being away from someone you care about–"

"Why can't I go to New York?" Lorraine blurted out.

Both her parents were taken aback, sharing a quick look between them. "What?" her mother asked.

"New. York," Lorraine articulated slowly, her annoyance obvious. "Why can I not go visit Ben?" It was a question she often wondered, but hadn't brought up… till now. Till she had the courage to do so.

"Well…" Her father laced his fingers together, pausing a short moment. "Last year, we did bring up the prospect of you visiting him, but he didn't seem to like the idea."

The anxiety ball shot up into Lorraine's throat. "He didn't... like it? Ben didn't want me to visit him?"

Her mother jumped in, scooting closer to the edge of the couch. "He didn't feel comfortable making you travel all that way, saying something about how the journey could be hard for a young girl to endure. He was quite content with coming to London to see you instead."

Of course, the explanation made sense. A young girl of fourteen –turning fifteen in August– traveling to another country, even with the escorts of her parents, could be strenuous and treacherous. Just last week, Lorraine had read in the paper about numerous young ladies who had gone missing while making the journey. But a man traveling across an ocean, no one would pay him a second glance, especially a man the size of Ben.

However, as much as that all made sense, it left one of her questions unanswered. "What will happen once we're married?" Time was starting to tick, seeing how she was to turn sixteen in the latter part of next year. And yet, there still was no mention of preparing for a wedding.

"What do you mean?" her father asked.

"Am I to live in New York with him?"

"Well… yes."

"Why?"

"Why?" Her parents both echoed back.

She glanced from one parent to the other. "Yes, why? Why do I have to uproot my life and move to a foreign country I've only ever read about?"

"He's well established there. His career is in New York. It's where you two will be the most stable, and as his wife–"

"As his wife, I am to follow my husband wherever he wants to go?"

"I wouldn't say follow, but support is a better term," said her father.

Satine took a quick sip of her tea, then said, "It's a shame Armitage was the one who got to transfer to their office in London and Ben did not."

Lorraine saged against the couch, bitterness seeping into her tone. "They liked that Armitage was from London and more familiar with the people and culture," she explained. Rolling her eyes, she added "That's what Ben told me, anyway." But she seriously doubted Ben had put in a valiant effort to acquire the transfer. The way Ben talked about America made it sound like it would be torture to live anywhere else, even though Lorraine was in London. Wouldn't her being here be enough for him?

"What will you two do?" Lorraine asked, arms crossed and tight, as if the physical squeeze could hold herself together.

Her mother arched a brow. "Do?"

"When I'm in America and married," Lorraine clarified. "What will you be doing? Would you move to America, too?"

Silence. The kind that answered your question before a word was spoken. And the answer was never what you wanted to hear.

"Well, your father has his trade business here, and we will have the estate that needs looking after."

Lorraine's heart sank horribly. "So you're just going to leave me there… alone?" Her voice cracked on the last word as they finally reached the subject Lorraine was most anxious to discuss.

"Alone?" Her mother crossed the room, sitting beside Lorraine, speaking earnestly. "Honey, you have Ben. And his parents also live in New York. Your father and I are already looking into purchasing property close by so we can come visit for a few months out of the year. It's not like you'll never see us again."

Lorraine glanced away from her mother's concerned stare, biting her lower lip as if the pinch could distract her from… well, everything.

How was Lorraine supposed to tell them that she didn't know how to live a life where they weren't constantly there for her? That growing up terrified her?

"Lorraine," her mother said gently, taking her hand into her own. "Becoming an adult is a very scary thing." Turned out her mother could read her like a novel. "I was once your age, too – unsure of where my place was in this world and how to thrive with what I had. You may think that once you're married, that we'll no longer watch out for you, but that's not the truth." Her mother reached out with a comforting hand that went from her cheek and rested on her shoulder. "You'll always be my daughter and I will always do whatever I can for you. Just because you've grown up, doesn't mean we'll stop being your parents. You will always have a home with us. You'll always have us to fall back on."

Lorraine looked over at her father, who gave her a nod and a soft smile, supporting the words her mother had spoken.

As Lorraine's mother wrapped her in a hug, she didn't try to deny the comfort being offered to her. Rather, she sank into the embrace, resting her cheek upon her mother's shoulder, feeling that childlike naivety that everything was going to be alright.

Present day – May 2nd

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jenna's voice exploded across the theatre. Her and Spencer were rehearsing on stage, all her vitriol pointed directly at the man. Everyone stopped what they were doing, attention sweeping over to the outburst. "You have one of the smallest roles in the play and you're still calling out for your goddamn lines? Ben is more than halfway memorized, and he did it in five fucking days. We open on Friday and you're going to ruin–"

D'Acy stepped in, getting between Jenna and Spencer, trying to convince the woman to go backstage for a breather. Jenna was reluctant to leave, but something D'Acy said under her breath made Jenna huff and disappear stage left.

Tech week was stressful. Always was. Since it was the first official day of it, there was a lot of stop and go and adjusting to be made. On top of all that, it was almost four in the evening on a Saturday, and they had all been there since nine. They might not get out till close to midnight.

It was a long fucking day that was about to get longer.

As the awkward silence was gradually broken by everyone muttering to each other, Ben went back to the script atop his lap. He was sitting cross legged on the floor, his back against the wall right below the closed cabaret window. While he prided himself on being a sharp dresser with nice taste, recollections of past theatre experiences told him to dress comfortably for an all-day rehearsal – which was why he was wearing his dark blue cashmere sweatpants and a black Burberry Fordson fleece hoodie, complete with his usual Air Jordans. Comfy, with a total price tag of a few grand.

His lips moved as he whispered lines to himself, over and over and over again. Back at Julliard, everyone thought he had unlocked the secret of memorizing lines quickly, begging him to share the shortcut. The truth? There was no shortcut. At least not for him. It was all about repetition – saying the lines while cleaning or exercising or taking a shower. Hours upon hours, all day every day till you fell asleep. Ben only knew he'd done enough when he was reciting the lines in his dreams.

A lot of his technical training from school was coming back to him, things he thought he had forgotten over time.

But at the end of the day, it all came down to one thing: discipline. That's what being a marine had given him. Some of these people – *cough*Spencer*cough* – had never cultivated such a skill.

Ben flipped to the next page when a familiar shiver down his spine brought his head up. Rey was walking toward him, the little smile curving her lips warming his chest. It always did. Without fail.

"Hey," she breathed out. She placed a plastic bag between them and sat, handing him a foot-long sub sandwich wrapped in parchment paper. "Thought you could use some fuel for your brain."

He blinked. He hadn't been expecting this. "Thank you," he told her with a grateful smile, accepting her offering. "Food definitely helps." Lollipops only got him so far when it came to his blood sugar levels. And he already went through all the food and snacks he had brought hours ago.

Ben's eyes did a quick survey of everyone inside, then down at the sandwich, before popping back to Rey. "Would you care if we actually went outside to eat? I could really use some fresh air."

Rey jumped to her feet, not bothered by his need for a change in scenery. They ventured to the front of the theatre, sitting on the bench Ben had mentally marked as theirs. They would come out here during breaks in rehearsal, sitting in that exact spot. Each time was no more than ten minutes, seeing how he had a lot of catching up to do when it came to the play.

But right now, Ben was in need of a mental respite. One that wasn't on a specific timer.

Taking off his gloves, he tore into the classic Italian sub on wheat, eating more for fuel instead of enjoyment. It was a little warmer outside than the previous days, the temperature somewhere in the 60's. The soft breeze offered a bit of a chill, though, as if the air was unwilling to shed the icy vestments of winter. There was about an hour of sunlight left, that big shiny ball in the sky fighting the good fight, the only soldier keeping the bitter cold at bay. While Ben abhorred the heat of summer, winter and snow were almost just as bad. Fall was where it was at, in his opinion.

Rey pulled out a water bottle from the bag, placing it next to him. "You seem to be getting everything down really quick. Quicker than what I've seen from the others."

Ben covered his mouth as he chewed and swallowed. "Jenna tore into Spencer about it."

"Again?"

"Yeah, right before you got back." He took another large bite, already halfway done with the meal.

Rey sighed, crossing her ankles as she got comfortable. "Well, it's hard to say he doesn't deserve it. You're almost completely memorized, and it's only been, like, a handful of days since you agreed to do this. Spencer has had months."

Ben shrugged and mumbled around the food in his mouth, hoping he wasn't being too gross. "It's all about" –chew, chew, chew– "time management."

"You must be good at that since you work during the day, while simultaneously memorizing a play."

Ben grabbed a napkin, wiping around his mouth. "I've basically been reading the script while holding myself up in my office. Can't say I've been getting a lot of work done."

"And no one has noticed?"

"Believe it or not, I'm not the most approachable person."

Rey did a dramatic gasp, hand going to her chest. "What? You? Not approachable? I couldn't imagine." Her expression was stone serious for a short beat before crumbling into soft laughter, her signature cheeky smile warming Ben's blood… blood that traveled down to his–

He refused to let his body react as he cut out those thoughts that had them horizontal in his bed… or reliving the memory of what it felt like to be inside her back in his office.

Nope. Getting a semi was not going to help things.

Ben chuckled, forcing his libido to take a backseat. "With that performance, you should've auditioned for the play. I'm sure you would've gotten a role."

Rey snorted amusingly. "Yeah, no one needs to see me in a play. Acting was always your thing."

There was a pause, a rather awkward one that hung implications in the air. Implications of her once knowing him.

Ben's brows furrowed. "Always my thing?"

Eyes widening, panic ran across her face.

This had hardly been the first time Rey had made peculiar comments, the statements followed up with her looking alarmed at what came out of her mouth. Then her posture would tense, as if bracing for Ben to drill her with questions.

He never did.

Did he want to? Absolutely. But he made a promise not to press her when it came to how she knew him or why his hallucinations were only ever of her.

Ben tossed her a lifeline in the form of changing the subject. "I'm sorry we haven't really talked a lot this past week."

"Oh," Rey breathed out, rubbing at her throat for a moment. "Don't apologize. I can't imagine the stress you're under, and I understand why you're glued to the script right now."

"I made the goal of having it all memorized by Monday." Ben waded up the wax paper the sandwich had been in, stuffing it back in the paper bag. "Then I'll have next week to get used to blocking and performing again."

"You're impressive." Rey blinked quickly, mouth floundering like a fish out of water. "I mean, what you're doing is impressive. It's all impressive. Not that you're not impressive, just…" She swallowed and looked away from him. "Yeah... maybe I should stop talking the rest of the day."

The rouge blossoming on her cheeks was making its way down her neck, beneath the collar of her shirt, no doubt fanning out on her chest.

He couldn't keep looking at her, not when his thoughts wanted to take him somewhere that would inevitably leave him with blue balls.

His stare went to the factory next to the theatre, a dilapidated chain link fence dividing the two properties. "I would prefer it if you didn't stop talking," said Ben honestly. "I rather like your voice."

Rey chuckled. "It's the accent. It draws you Americans in every time."

Ben nodded. "The accent is nice, I admit. But I'm more interested in hearing what you have to say."

"Oh, well... I'm sorry to inform you, but I'm a rather dull person." Ben's gaze swept back to her, back to seeing the hint of hazel in her eyes. Rey inhaled and added, "I don't keep up with politics, I have no social media, don't have many friends to even have drama with, and Finn likes to critique my affinity to prefer bland food. I mean, I don't mind flavor and spice, but sometimes my taste buds need a break, you know?"

"Mmm…" Ben hummed in agreement. Speaking of Finn, he thought. "You and Finn seem close."

"Oh, we are. He's the only family I have, since everyone else is… not around."

"You're related?"

"No, just the best of friends. He was there for me when no one else was. To me, that makes him my family. Without him… god, I would be such a mess. Especially after…"

"Your husband," Ben finished for her. Her stare was a million miles away, her finger twisting at the wedding band that still adorned her finger. After a quiet moment, Rey nodded solemnly.

"How long has it been since he's passed away?" he asked

Rey was a bit startled by the question, and Ben was about to take it back when she answered, "A couple years ago. We… our families were friends, so we knew each other growing up. Well, mostly I knew him while growing up. He was ten years older than me, and we officially met when I was eleven." Ben's brows shot up, and Rey chuckled lightly at his aghast response. "I know, me being young and the age difference is startling, but nothing happened between us till I was an adult. We were… friends, and he was nothing but a gentleman to me."

"When did you get married?"

It took her a second before she said, "When I was 19."

His eyes widened slightly. "That's…"

"Young, yes. Our families were really wanting us to be together."

Odd, he thought. "And I'm sure you were madly in love with him, too."

She smiled, but it didn't seem to reach her eyes. "Love was a strange kind of journey for us. To be honest, I don't think there was much of it when we got married. At least on my part. I was… I was scared that I would lose my independence, and I took it out on him by being distant and not being a very good wife. As the wedding day got closer and closer, I associated all the world's unfairness toward women onto him more and more, and as a result, my feelings toward him lessened until it became bitterness." Her shoulders caved in slightly, forlorn eyes looking to the factory, voice growing soft. "Doing that was very wrong of me. I believed him to be my jailer, when he never was. I let outside voices scare me and manipulate me against him. And I'll always regret it."

"But something changed?"

"Yes," she nodded, the corner of her lip twitching with the start of a smile. "The last year we were together, I opened my heart to him after realizing what had been going on with me. I fell in love with him quickly, and had never been happier. I just wish… I wish for more time."

His pinky brushed against hers as he placed it on the bench, trying to resist holding her hand.

Ben rounded his jaw, wanting to comfort her in some way. "I know I've never experienced what you've gone through, but I do know something about losing the ones you care about."

Her gaze flicked back to him. "Other marines?"

He nodded in an affirmative, memories blinking through his mind's eye. "You go through so much together that you end up forming a bond that's a lot like family. Like brothers. And I bottled up those losses and refused to deal with it for years. What helped was finally going to some AA meetings and listening to other peoples stories, whether they were in the military or just civilians. Everyone has their own demons to fight with, and realizing that I wasn't alone in that helped, in a way."

"Did it also help to talk about it?"

He cocked his head to the side, pondering, and then realizing. "You know, I've never really talked about it, actually. It was listening to other people talk about their experiences and struggles that made me self reflect more and help me deal with my emotions. Main emotion being anger. It's what I wrestle with the most."

"You don't believe talking about your pain helps you heal?"

"Oh, I'm sure it does. Probably for most people. But not everyone's the same. I didn't like the pressure I was putting on myself to speak up at a meeting and share what had happened. So I just took a step back and listened and from there… I found relatability in what other people were sharing. It's kind of selfish, but just knowing that other people also had a hard time with just living day to day helped. For me, that was enough."

They sat in silence for a moment, Ben thinking about some of the stories he'd heard at those meetings, wondering where those people were or how they were doing. Did their lives get better? Or did the pain eventually consume them?

He had missed the VA meeting this week because of having to focus on the play. He wondered how Cooper was doing, the guy he had talked to after the meeting was over. Next week, if rehearsal got out at a reasonable time, Ben would make an effort to go.

Ben glanced at Rey, noticing that look on her face – the look of grief.

"But if you ever want to talk about your loss, I'll be here to listen," Ben offered sincerely. "I just want you to know that you're not alone when it comes to the pain of living without someone."

"Thank you."

The door to the theatre creaked open, Finn sticking his head out to let them know they had ten more minutes, then went back inside.

Ben noticed the nickname Finn called her: peanut, like a term of endearment. But how endearing was what he was curious about.

"So…" Ben brought up slowly. "You two… you've only ever been friends? You guys have never… you've never thought about–"

Rey's eyes widened. "Oh, god no," she said quickly. "Never. It's never been like that between us. Besides, he's really into Ro–." Rey cut herself off, clamping her mouth shut.

But Ben already knew where that sentence was going. "You were about to say Rose, weren't you."

She winced. "I'm not sure if I should have told you that."

"You think I don't notice the way he looks at her? I may have my head in the script during rehearsal, but I'm not completely oblivious."

"Please don't tell Rose. I feel like I betrayed Finn's trust by even saying anything."

"I won't, I swear."

"By chance, do you think Rose is maybe interested in Finn?"

The question brought up memories of Rose from years ago, when she went through a certain phase in her life of dating men who were straight up assholes. Even criminals. Ben had to bail her out of bad situations more than once, by either using money or his physicality. And the frustrating thing about Rose was she had a knack for putting on a good face and making people believe everything was fine… until it absolutely wasn't. Which caused Ben to always find out at the last possible moment, right when the proverbial shit hit the fan and made everything a mess.

Ben chose what to say carefully. "Rose has always been hard to read when it comes to her being interested in someone. But I'll keep an ear out." And a close watch on Rose and Finn.

Rey looked to the theatre, and then regarded the setting sun. "I'm sorry if I'm taking up your time for a break."

"You're not. I wish all my time could be filled with only you." He cringed. Cheesy much? You sound like you're in sixth grade trying to flirt with a girl for the first time, he told himself. Turned out, Ben could berate himself just fine without Kylo having to do it for him.

Ben took a second to reach within himself, searching for that dumb fuck of a shadow. He felt… something there. An energy within himself that could be Kylo, but felt so far away.

It should give him relief to not have Kylo judging every second of his life, voicing his opinions and critiques and giving his shit advice.

But there was no relief. Only a growing emptiness. Every time Ben reached out, nothing reached back.

"Did you get enough to eat?" Rey asked as she stood, prompting Ben to also get to his feet. It was about time to head inside.

"Yes," he answered. Just as she turned to the door, his hand went for hers. She froze in surprise, watching as he laced their fingers together.

Ben took a step closer, then another. She looked up, her stare pressing into his, that humming energy he so deliciously craved seeping into his blood. He just… he wanted to feel close to her. Feel that connection between them.

"Is this okay?" he whispered, noticing the way her eyes dipped to his lips.

"Yes," she said breathlessly.

Ben was careful not to make too much contact, controlling himself to just hand holding. But then she closed that inch of air between them, resting her head on his chest, his arms wrapping instinctively around her.

It was easy, just standing there, feeling her against him. Perfection was always something Ben tried to obtain in his life, but such a goal had always been just out of reach. But this… this moment, this single point in time held no flaws or blemishes. Just unabashed tenderness, the kind that slowed his heart and tingled his skin.

Turned out, affection was a greater, more worthy goal than perfection. That's what Ben should've been striving for his whole life. And with Rey, he could have it. He could see it, that chance, that wholesome feeling… of love.

()()()()()

First challenge: Blend in with the mortals.

Second challenge: Keep a close eye on Ben and Rey.

Being an Angel gave Poe certain abilities in making him unnoticeable to humans. Not invisibility... though, that would be cool. No, the ability was centered around being able to cloud human minds so they wouldn't pay him any heed, nor remember him if they gave him a glance. The little caveat to this little trick, however, was that it didn't work on Celestials. To remain hidden from them required masking his own divine energy with a strong spiritual barrier, combined with a mental focus that left him exhausted after a full day of use.

To help remedy that? Distance, which was how Poe found himself in the parking lot across the street from the theatre, hiding mostly behind a rank smelling dumpster. He was a far away spectator to the way Rey and Ben made each other laugh, the looks they shared, the way one of their hands kept bumping into the other, a joint magnetic field that demanded their union.

There was still that connection between them, even after all this time. That push and pull, that feel and give of their twin energies.

Their bodies were different, but their souls were still the same.

Finn peeked outside, relaying a quick message before going back in. Break was probably almost over, and Poe should get backstage before someone noticed he'd been gone for a while. Instead, he kept watching. Minutes passed before Rey and Ben finally stood up, but neither made it to the door.

Poe eyed the way Ben went for Rey's hand, his body getting closer to her as they looked at each other, both speaking too softly for him to hear. The hair on Poe's arms and neck stood up, an electric vibration traveling along the molecules in the air. He didn't have to guess as to what was the source. A power like theirs had a destined weight to it that no one understood. Not even Ben and Rey. Poe remembered Leia joking once that she wished the two of them had come with a users manual. But God didn't work like that, apparently. When Ben and Rey had been gifted to their parents, there'd been no note attached to the manifestations of their spirits.

Rey was the one who closed the distance between them, and Ben obliged by holding her with reverence. They stayed like that for a time, maybe not even realizing the minutes as they ticked by, too entranced with each other. When they separated, they walked back into the theatre, hand in hand.

No longer worried that his position would be compromised, Poe lit a cigarette and took a nice long drag. Thinking.

After all this time, it was still only ever Rey for Ben. Always Rey. And she had fucked him over all those many years ago.

Poe knew… he knew as an Angel, harboring a grudge and yearning for retribution wasn't the way. He'd known Rey, just like he'd known Ben and Armitage before those three went down to Earth. They had all been close, a tight group. Friends.

That all went away the moment Ben died.

Poe froze the cigarette halfway to his lips. He wasn't alone. But it wasn't a human who was behind him.

Poe carefully turned around.

Han's gaze was focused on the theatre, to where Ben and Rey had been moments before. From the looks of it, he'd probably been standing there before Poe had sensed him. And if Poe could sense Han's presence, it was only because Han had wanted him to.

The power that buzzed off of Celestials was so potent, even mortals would be able to sense something amiss. But those demi-gods knew how to hide themselves. Especially Han. Coming to Earth had become such a regular occurrence for the guy, that practice was never short in supply.

Poe took a long drag, preparing himself for wherever this conversation was going to go. "Does Leia know you're here?"

Han stared directly at Poe. "What do you think?"

That would be a no.

Even when dressed like any other mortal – casual jeans, boots, and a cotton blue shirt – there was still that air of intimidation Han knew how to muster in his demeanor. He hadn't always been like that, Poe recalled. Before the whole disaster with Ben, Han had been known for his sarcasm and all around carefree attitude. Drove Leia insane, but in a I-hate-you-but-I-love-you sort of way.

Now, Poe couldn't remember the last time the guy told a joke.

Poe tossed the cigarette onto the asphalt. "Sooner or later, she'll find out you've been coming to the mortal plane."

Han shrugged. "And when that day comes, I'll deal with it. But for now, I don't care about some stupid fucking rule that limits when I can come here."

Well, there was one part of Han that appeared to still be intact: his total lack of respect for the rules.

"How much did you see?" Poe asked, motioning to the theatre.

"Just before they went inside." Han rubbed at the scruff on his chin, his eternal youthful appearance not making him look a day over thirty. "How's he doing?"

"Good, from what I can tell. I was worried how being a part of the play would affect him, but I think it's been a positive thing." Poe shrugged. "He seems happier."

"I'm sure Rey also has something to do with that."

Poe's jaw tightened. "Yeah. Probably."

Han shook his head, knowingly. "You better figure out a way to deal with that grudge at some point. That shit is a black hole that will swallow everything good about you."

Poe blinked in surprise, which quickly morphed into confusion. "I…"

"What?"

"I just…" Poe took a breath, feeling the need to be honest, but knowing that this was a Celestial he was talking to. "I don't understand how you can be so forgiving towards Rey after what she did to Ben."

"Allegedly did," Han quickly countered.

Poe was pretty sure his brows were all the way into his hairline. "You believe she's innocent?"

"Not completely, no. But I don't believe she was complicit in my son's death."

"Leia thinks so."

"Leia's wrong," Han said a little too harshly. He exhaled, pinching at the bridge of his nose, finding his center. "She's right about a lot of things, but when it comes to this, her anger has blinded her from seeing things clearly."

"I think she's seeing things just fine."

"So you think what she did to Satine was ok? That it was justified?" Han brandished those questions as well as a dagger to the gut ever could. It was something Poe didn't like to think about.

"Satine wouldn't say where Rey was," Poe opposed weakly.

"Because she didn't know what happened to Rey after she died, just like we had no idea where Ben went after he passed."

"Leia said she was lying."

Han scoffed. "I was there. Satine wasn't lying. But that's what Leia tells herself to justify sentencing her to the Ether." And such a sentence for a Celestial was something Poe never wanted to witness. It required the Celestial to expel all of their divine energy, going supernova in a catastrophic explosion of light before blinking out of existence. It was a Celestial's one way ticket straight to the Ether.

"Yeah…" Poe looked back to the theatre, wondering for the millionth time how Rey would react if she learned the truth about her mother. "It wasn't the best decision Leia ever made. Even if Satine was lying, she didn't deserve that."

There was a moment of silence between the two men, their eyes catching onto a flock of birds flying above in the dwindling sky, the horn of a train going off in the distance.

Han sighed. "I know your devotion to Leia has dwindled. Especially after Satine."

"Which is the only reason I agreed to keep your secret of coming down to Earth from her."

"And I appreciate that. Truly, I do. But I'm afraid I must ask a bit more from you." Poe met Han's leveled stare. "Something is going on among the Emissaries. They've been congregating among themselves more and more, even with others outside their districts."

Poe shrugged. "With the world becoming more connected, they might want to be doing the same. There's no rule against it."

"No, there's not. But Emissaries have started to go missing."

"There's usually a handful that rebel and try to live a human life."

"The numbers are well above the usual, and none have been found."

"None? If they're on Earth, then finding them shouldn't be too hard."

"I don't think they're hiding on the mortal plane."

"But–." And then it dawned on Poe. If the Emissaries could not be located on Earth, and Han could not find them near the Waypoint, it left only one place for them to go: "Abaddon," Poe whispered with reluctant realization.

"That's what I'm thinking."

Poe shook his head and frowned. "But Snoke is loyal to Leia."

"Is he?"

"Well… yeah." Han didn't look convinced. "I mean, sure, the guy gives me the chills and can be over the top, but he led the search for Ben when you and Leia were still grieving. He helped run your part of things after all that shit happened. He's always been there to offer support."

"Appearances don't always tell the truth. I think all that loyalty stuff is bullshit to get close to Leia and manipulate her."

"But why? I don't see the guy going for a power grab. He doesn't even like the responsibility of running Abaddon, but he does it because someone has to."

"No, it's not about usurping Leia. Not necessarily."

"Then what?"

There was a beat of silence, as if Han was considering how much to divulge. "I think it has something to do with Satine."

Poe ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, now you've lost me."

"There are things about Celestials even you don't know. A history that has been kept well hidden."

"Why?"

"Shame. Embarrassment. Scandal." Han gave out a tired exhale. "The typical reasons why people bury the past."

"This all just confuses me more."

"Look, before I tell you about it, I just need to make sure my hunch is correct. But in the meantime, maybe talk to the Emissary that is assigned to Rey. Maybe you can get some information out of him."

"I doubt he'll give me any info willingly."

Han pegged him with a serious look. "No hurting him."

"You want information or not?"

"I want you to stay safe. You're not indestructible, Poe. Just like with the Emissaries, in order for them or any Angel to be down here for a long length of time, you have a portion of mortality granted upon you."

Poe waved his hand about. "Yeah, yeah, I know. One big blow and I'm onto the Waypoint."

"With no possibility of you ever getting a chance at a human life."

"Eh. Being human doesn't seem that much fun anyway." Han just kept looking at him, not satisfied with his answer. "Okay, I'll be careful. I swear."

"Good. I would like for my son to someday see his best friend again."

"He has seen me."

"See you, and remember you."

The ache in Poes heart was hard to keep out of his voice. "You think he'll get his memories back?"

Han looked to the darkening sky, and for a split second, the Celestial actually looked to have aged twenty years. "I'm going to do whatever it takes to make that happen." And then in a blink, he was gone.

Poe was back to standing next to the dumpster, alone.

It was odd how over the past few years, Poe had started corresponding more and more with Han. It was to the point that he saw the Celestial more than he saw Leia. But one thing Han was right about was how Leia's rage had changed her, to the point where it was getting hard to ignore the obvious.

Poe was loyal to Leia, always would be. But Poe didn't necessarily agree with Leia's 'watch and see' tactic when it came to Ben. He much preferred Han's approach of actually being proactive about figuring all this crazy shit out, to hell with the rules.

So for now, Poe had come to accept that he would follow Han's lead, no matter what the cost.