WhiteDemonFeathers: I am gradually getting back into writing! I think I'll always struggle with how TROS ripped out my heart and stomped all over it, making it difficult for me to write these characters and be in this writing world of Star Wars. I love my story and want to see it finished, so I will keep going and not let that horrible movie win! Thanks for sticking with the story. Bendemption: I'm so glad you are enjoying the worldbuilding aspect of the story! I do apologize for the wait in between the chapters, which can make remembering what happened before a challenge. I go back and reread chapters as well. lol. Even I forget stuff. And good catch on the age Rey gives Ben for when she was married. Last chapter she told him 19, which is a lie. The correct age is 17, which you remembered from chapter 1. Rey lied to Ben because 17 is quite young to be married in modern times. I do plan on making that more clear in upcoming chapters, but good job at catching that. SpunkyBookworm: Good song choice to go with the story! Thanks for still being here and reading. :)

I've been sitting on this chapter for a while, and just keep editing it. I could edit for an eternity, but then I would never update a story. So if there are mistakes in the writing, I do apologize. Just know I am not a professional writer and I do this for fun and as a hobby. Thank you all for giving this story a chance!

Also a disclaimer: There is no love triangle in this story. I am not a big fan of that trope. So as you read, keep that in mind.

Chapter 9: Sense of a Feeling

Present Day, Friday

Click.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Click, click, click, click, clickclickclickclickclickclick–

"Mr. Solo?"

Ben snapped his attention to Mitaka at the other end of the long corporate table, his thumb halting on the end cap of the pen. The other lawyers watched him, their regard pulled away from the papers and folders that held the contents of the meeting.

"Are you alright, sir?" Mitaka added, impressively putting on a show of concern when in reality, Ben could tell the guy was annoyed with the pen performance.

Ben placed the ballpoint next to the open folder he hadn't even glanced at. He then proceeded to just stare at Mitaka, who quickly cleared his throat and continued.

These meetings were an everyday occurrence before they broke for lunch, each attorney going over their cases and giving updates on problems or resolutions. People from marketing joined a couple times out of the week, but today, it was just the suits in the room.

Seeing how Ben was the boss of these people, he knew he should at least be attentive, but he couldn't will himself to do so. His impatience went to his foot, bouncing his leg on the ball of his shoe just beneath the table.

The play opened tonight. It was all he could think about: his lines, the blocking, his character's motivations, what emotions he was trying to portray, and on and on the list went.

He just wanted to see Rey. Seeing her, being in her presence, breathing the same air between them helped calm his anxiety. They had lunch planned today at a café a block away. It would be a casual hour of just being able to talk to her and get to know her better. They both had been at the rehearsals all week, but they never had enough time to just enjoy each other's company, not for a lack of trying. Every break they were together, but it was all short lived, time not on their side. Then there was that one instance, two nights ago, where he had asked if he could escort her home just to prolong being with her. She had declined.

Ben understood. They were trying to take things slow, and if he went to her place late at night… well, certain activities were always more enticing after hours. She knew that; he knew that. But it didn't stop him from wanting more.

He was actually impressed with the testing of his restraints, both in a sexual manner, and when it came to his impatience and temper. Maybe he should reward himself with an Americano at lunch, a nice little treat of caffeine.

Ben pulled out his phone, keeping it under the table and opened up the text conversation they'd had late into the night. It was filled with a lot of questions and answers, both of them eager to get to know what made the other tick.

Pressing his lips together, he suppressed a smile. He'd never felt this way before, this… giddiness of feeling like a lovesick teenager pining over the most beautiful girl in the world.

His phone did a quick buzz, a text alert appearing on his phone.

To Ben:

Hey Ben! I just wanted to reach out and see how you're doing in New York. Have you been going to meetings like you promised you would?

Ben frowned as he typed a response.

To Bazine:

Hi Bazine. Everything is actually going really well. I've found some meetings I like going to, and have made a goal to go at least once a week.

To Ben:

That's great! Any temptations?

He almost snorted out loud.

He could always go for a drink, always go for a hit. Temptation for alcohol and drugs was always there. He had accepted that part of being an addict by now.

To Bazine:

I appreciate you checking in, but you don't need to. I know you probably still feel responsible for me after being my sponsor the last couple of years, but you can put more focus on the other people you're sponsoring now.

To Ben:

Have you found a new sponsor yet?

To Bazine:

Not yet.

To be honest, Ben had been pushing it off, because putting himself out there and talking to people and asking for help fucking drained him a lot of the time. Plus with work and the play, he was genuinely busy.

Those three dots appeared and stayed that way for a good minute, making Ben wonder what on Earth she could possibly be wanting to tell him.

To Ben:

Look Ben, you know how I feel about you suddenly moving to New York. A lot of bad stuff happened to you when you lived there last time and I don't want the past to repeat itself. I know you told me you wanted a sponsor you could see in person but I think you should still give us a chance over the phone or through FaceTime. We've spent so long building up this relationship between us, it would be a shame for it to go to waste. I miss you and I can still be there for you.

Fucking emotional whiplash.

Ben's stare bounced between the words 'relationship' and 'I miss you'. Was Bazine a good listener and great at giving advice? Yes. But did she also confuse the hell out of Ben? Double yes.

There were times she could be flirty, and other times professional. Some of the things she'd say could come off as suggestive, like hints at wanting a more "physical" interaction with him. Ben shirked those off. In truth, Bazine was a very beautiful woman. Ben was just never interested in getting together with her. Not even a one off thing.

He put his phone back in his pocket without replying and felt like clawing himself out of his own skin, he was getting so beyond impatient. Had these meetings always been this long?

In a situation like this, he would at least have Kylo to talk to. Now, just thinking about him made Ben worry. Yep, he was officially worried that his full-time curse/part-time confidant/demonic shadow would never come back. Over the years, he must have developed some type of Stockholm syndrome for the thing. It was the only explanation for the increasing anxiety he had over never being able to talk or see Kylo again.

Just when Ben was about to lose it, when he was opening his mouth to declare that the meeting was a waste of his fucking time and he was leaving, Mitaka called it to a close. Ben was the first one out of the room, the pent up energy from his impatience getting him back to his office in less than ten seconds.

Swinging the double glass doors open to his outside waiting room, the new secretary composed her startled demeanor and stood. "Mr. Solo, there's–"

"I'm taking my lunch early," he told her, snatching a dum dum from his pocket and popping it in his mouth. He moved quickly to his office door. God, he wished Rey would just agree to come work for him again. Then he could see her whenever he wanted. "No calling me, just take messages while I'm out."

"But–"

Ben opened the door, and then froze.

Luke stood up from the leather guest chair, facing his nephew.

Ben tried to convince his body to step forward as he looked at his uncle. One foot in front of the other. It wasn't that complicated. His Louis Vuitton black business shoes middle-fingered that idea, knowing that any conversation he had with Luke usually didn't go well. He could already feel his blood pressure rising, his heart beating just a little bit faster.

"Sir," his secretary said, trepidation in her voice. "Your uncle is here."

Ben took the dum dum out of his mouth, tone low as he said, "Rebecca." At least he thought that was his secretary's name. "You're fired."

The girl gasped. Luke didn't look pleased. "Now, hold on. I insisted on waiting in here," Luke explained. "She did try to stop me, but I let myself in."

"Regardless–"

"Rebecca," Luke called out to her. "You're not fired. No need to worry. My nephew can be a bit of a hot head sometimes."

Silence ensued. Rebecca was smart enough not to make a sound as the two men just stood there, staring at each other.

Okay, the whole I-am-a-statue thing was getting pretty ridiculous for both of them. They couldn't keep standing there like inanimate objects.

Ben closed the door and took a step. Then another, all the while aware of Luke's eyes scanning him, assessing. Typical psychologist shit.

He tossed the lollipop in the trash bin and went to sit behind his large antique desk, which was a miracle of movement seeing how his legs were numb. Luke sat opposite him, crossing his legs and looking relaxed, all the while Ben could feel the sweat accumulating on his chest and under his arms.

Neither said anything for a moment. The middle aged man's face that stared back at him was mostly the same, albeit a few more wrinkles and gray hairs in his beard and atop his head. Luke's rimless glasses magnified his blue eyes, really aiding in giving off those shrink vibes. They did have one thing in common, though: both had a predilection for clothing on the expensive side, even if their fashion choices were different. Where Luke preferred cardigans and cotton shirts, Ben enjoyed blazers and cashmere.

Ben decided to break the silence. "Why did you come–"

"You're not wearing your sunglasses, but you have your gloves on."

"You're observant. As ever." Ben was trying baby steps when it came to his 'ailments'. He needed to be comfortable without having his safety net of sunglasses and gloves while performing on stage, so he was trying not to wear either in the office. Going without the gloves was proving to be difficult, however.

"Are you…" Luke adjusted his posture. "Are you doing good? Any relapses or–"

"Nope. None."

It must be Pile on Ben Day, fucking everyone was coming out to check on him. Bazine, now Luke. He was sure Rey would join the foray, too, if she knew more details about his addictions.

"Remember to stay away from the bars and clubs you used to frequent when you lived–"

"I know."

"I just don't want you falling in with the same crowd as before and get–"

"I haven't contacted any of those people. I'm not an idiot," Ben bit out, maybe too harshly.

"I didn't say you were." There was a brief pause. Luke did a quick look around Ben's office, probably judging it for its lack of decorations and warmth. "How are your hallucinations?"

Blowing an impatient blast from his lips, Ben dragged his fingers through his hair. "How about you just give me my meds and we don't have to talk. That's why you're here, right?" Ben eyed Luke's brown leather satchel next to his chair, knowing the goods were inside.

Luke winced. "You used to talk… to me."

"I was young and stupid."

"You weren't stupid for confiding in me, Ben."

Nope. Don't get emotionally manipulated, he told himself, knowing Kylo would be telling him the exact same thing.

Ben looked to the side wall, as if he could find what to say next written in bold letters. "Can we just not have this conversation again? I know how it's going to go."

"And how's it going to go?"

Ben crossed his arms, unable to stop his mouth from word vomiting all over the place. "I tell you that I'm still having hallucinations, you tell me you'll make adjustments to my medication. I tell you I should be admitted to a mental hospital, you nix the idea for reasons you never actually explain to me – even though I'm crazy – and then proceed to pretend I never asked for such a thing. The topic of my parents makes its way into the conversation, and I get pissed that you refuse to tell me anything about them or how they died. Blah, blah, blah; yada, yada, yada – and then it usually ends with me telling you I don't ever want to talk to you again, with a few 'fuck yous' thrown in there for emphasis. How's that for a summary?"

"Accurate." Luke took off his glasses, cleaning the lenses with the edge of his gray cardigan. "Except you're not crazy."

"Wow," Ben breathed out, watching Luke adjust the glasses back on his face. "The fact that you're a fucking psychologist and you don't think I'm cookoo bananas is beyond me."

Maybe his uncle was the insane one.

"You've always been good at self depreciation," Luke pointed out.

"Knowing there's something wrong with me is not self depreciation, it's accepting reality." Leaning forward, Ben held out an open palm atop his desk. "Meds, and then you can leave."

Luke considered him for a handful of seconds. "You want your meds?"

"Yeah, I want my fucking meds."

"Then you can stand to talk to me for a few minutes and earn them."

Ben sat back in his chair, molars grounding together. "You're seriously implementing a reward system with me? Like I'm a fucking five year old?"

Luke cocked his head to the side, staring at him, waiting. It was the look he gave whenever he wasn't going to budge.

Ben inhaled. Exhaled. "Fine. You want to talk, how about you start us off." Ben's phone buzzed in his pocket, but he kept his focus on his uncle.

"I hear you're in a play."

"How did you–." Realization hit him. "Rose."

Luke lifted a hand, as if he could halt Ben's frustration. "Don't be mad at her. I've been texting her about how you're doing, maybe too much. She told me about the play after I kept asking what you've been up to."

Way to give me a heads up, Rose, Ben thought. Though, knowing her, she was probably still drafting the text that broke the news to him that she had responded to his uncle.

"Yep, I'm in a play," said Ben. "You caught me."

"Are you enjoying it?"

The answer to that question was actually easy… and honest. "I am, actually."

"Are you making friends? Maybe with some people at the theater?"

"Some, yeah."

"Any girls?"

Narrowing his stare, Ben said, "There are girls that are my friends, sure."

"Just friends?" There was a beat, in which Ben didn't answer. "I'm talking about dating," Luke elaborated.

"You've never asked me about my dating life. Not even when you knew what I was up to at Juilliard. Did Rose say something?"

The corner of Luke's mouth rose. "So there is a girl."

Ben wasn't sure why, but he felt compelled to say: "It's not serious."

Luke's smile vanished. "Ben, you better not be giving this young woman the wrong idea. You told me about Juilliard, how you would toy with people's–"

Ben cut Luke off. "Yeah, so, I do remember all those things because I was the one doing them. I was actually living it and making some horrible fucking decisions that, I admit, hurt people." He listed forward, arms folded and resting on the desk. "But thank you for bringing that up, as if I had somehow forgotten what a piece of shit I was. And"–Ben pointed directly at his uncle–"for your information, I actually genuinely like this girl, and am not the person I was over a decade ago."

"Ben," Luke said, sounding tired. Or impatient. Disappointed? Ben sometimes never knew with his uncle. "I just want you to be happy."

"Happy."

"Yes."

"Really," Ben said, voice as dry as dust.

"My goodness, Ben." Luke massaged his temples, which Ben noticed as a common response whenever they conversed. "Yes, really. I want you to be happy. Why is that so hard for you to believe? I raised you. I've watched you grow and struggle and all I've ever wanted to do was protect you, but now, all you do is push me away." Shaking his head, Luke glanced to the floor. "You even joined the Marines as a giant 'fuck you' to me."

Ben snorted. "Don't flatter yourself. I didn't join the Marines out of spite or to piss you off."

"You didn't give a shit that I was worried about you," Luke countered, his arms starting to become animated with his rising inflection. "You brushed my concern aside like it was a fly bothering you. 9/11 happened and you wanted to be a part of something and to give me the middle finger, and you thought the best way to do that was to join the military. You never gave a shit what I thought about it. Never even asked me. You just went and did it."

"Uh…" Ben hadn't expected Luke to bring up the military, nor his feelings about it. But what was most shocking was how Ben's initial reaction to Luke's admission wasn't defensiveness, but rather confusion. "So this was, like, almost twenty years ago and you're choosing now to bring this up? For the first time ever? You've kept this to yourself this entire time?"

Luke sagged in his chair, limbs appearing to be weighing him down, but Ben knew that heaviness stemmed from allowing his temper to get the better of him. Even if it had only been for a minute.

"Look," Luke began to say, voice having dropped an octave. "I worry about you Ben. Whether it was twenty years ago or right now, I'm always going to worry about you. And I remember every moment I've ever worried about you, and sometimes… sometimes all those moments come crashing right into me and it's like–" His voice broke, but he kept going. "It's like I can see you drowning in your life and I try to get to you, but wave after wave hits me and…" Luke bit at his lip, eyes up at the ceiling, trying to gain composure. "I know I'm your uncle, but I – you're like a son to me. Like my child." He locked eyes with Ben. "I love you."

God, where the fuck was all the air in this part of the universe?

Luke dropping the L word caught Ben off guard and made the whole mood of the conversation shift. Ben glanced away briefly, like he was hoping the movement of his eyeballs would take care of the sheen of tears that unwillingly came over his vision.

Ben had to clear the lump from his throat to even speak. "You've helped me a lot throughout my life, I won't deny that. And I'm grateful for you being there after the whole Julliaird thing and when I went to Yale. I wouldn't be where I am without your help. But…" Luke was hanging on Ben's every word, but he had to make it clear to his uncle where he stood on their relationship. "As long as you're keeping secrets from me, I can't have you in my life."

Luke's lips pressed tight into a grimace. "Your parents."

"Yeah. My parents. It's always going to come back to my parents."

"Ben, I'll–"

"Tell me someday." Ben rolled his eyes. "When the time is right. I'm used to hearing that from you by now." While the anger was still there, desperate for an outlet, Ben actually kept it in check. Luke was so visibly heartbroken that outright yelling at the guy seemed inappropriate, not to mention sadistic. But hey, Ben could still express himself like a controlled adult. "You've been stringing me along for years with that promise. Year after year hoping to finally get the truth, because you're the only one who has it. God, I've hired so many PI's to look into it, but not a single one of them could find even a trace that my parents ever existed. So is today the day? Are you here to lay it all out?"

Luke visibly swallowed. "I – I can't yet–"

"Then I'll need to ask you to leave," Ben said, voice even. "Please."

Luke pressed his lips together, closing his eyes, deflated. Then he got into his satchel, put the meds on Ben's desk and made for the door.

But Luke stopped and turned back around. "You need to be careful, Ben. There are things at play that I don't even understand."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Luke looked to the floor, but not before Ben saw fear spear into his eyes.

Something serious was going down. He'd never seen his uncle afraid. Not even when there was a huge possibility of Ben going to prison for almost killing that student at Julliard. And that was fucking serious.

Ben stood and rounded his desk, his previous frustration being replaced with… fuck it, concern. "Are you, like, tied up with the mafia or something? Loan sharks?"

Luke shook his head. "Just don't trust anyone."

"Luke… what's going on?"

"If anything happened to you, Ben…" His uncle clutched onto Ben's arm, grip strong and unyielding, his eyes filling with moisture. "I'd never forgive myself. This isn't how I wanted things to go. If I had a say in any of it… but I don't. There's so much I want to tell you, but I'm not allowed to. I'm probably pushing it by even saying this much."

Luke wiped his eyes before the moisture could fall onto his cheeks. The sight didn't sit well with Ben.

"Are you in trouble with the law?" Ben pressed, voice low so no one outside could possibly hear him. "I can help you get out of it. Did you do something illegal with your practice? Borrow money and you think your lender will come after me? Cause I have money–"

Luke gave out a melancholic laugh, readjusting the glasses on his nose. "Even though you know I've been keeping things from you, that I've lied, you're still willing to help me when you think I'm in trouble." Ben opened his mouth to say something. Nothing came out. "I know in your mind, you don't believe you're a good person. You once told me that your heart was nothing but a black hole, that you struggled with feeling anything. But being numb is a feeling, Ben. It's a defense mechanism against being consumed with too much emotional weight… because you do care too much. You always have. Your capacity to love with everything you have is one of the things I'm most proud of you for. You showed it to me, just now, when offering to help me. I've been withholding so much from you, but you were still willing to go to bat for me. If I were in your shoes, I don't know if I'd do the same."

Ben stared at his uncle for a moment, as if the man had gone quite mad to be forming such positive opinions of him. "You don't know me."

"I know that the one thing you've always wanted, above everything else in your life, is a family."

"How–" the did you know that went unsaid. Closing his eyes, Ben held them that way, though, not for long, but more than a blink. "I've never told you that."

"You didn't have to. I saw it in the way you asked questions about your parents, and the rage you have towards me whenever I withhold information from you. I see it in the way you're wrestling with wanting to help me with whatever's going on, while also wanting to tell me to fuck off from feeling so hurt."

"Ever the knowing psychologist," Ben said with a bit of mockery. He backed up, hands going to the perimeter of his desk as he half sat on the edge. "Why should I even bother talking to you when you already know how I feel?"

"Because I don't want to already know how you feel, I want you to tell me. I'm your family, Ben. Me. I'm right here."

His lips parted as something warm squeezed around his heart, but– "Family doesn't keep secrets from one another."

"Then this should come as a shock to you, because they most certainly do."

They shouldn't, Ben thought, then felt like a hypocrite. There were things Luke didn't know about him, things that he'd done that would paint him as absolute scum. Things he should be locked away for.

Ben's thoughts had become an echo chamber of his own musings, and he missed having Kylo to talk to so he didn't feel stuck with only himself. Even if it meant all they did was argue, it was better than being alone.

"So," Luke said, cutting through the silence, the mood in the room having diluted into something more somber. "Rose told me the play opens this Friday. I was thinking about staying for a bit and maybe going Saturday night."

"Maybe go?"

"I might have bought a ticket already," Luke said sheepishly.

"It's a free country. You can go see whatever you want."

"But do you want me there?"

Luke waited for a reply, as did Ben. Did he really want his uncle to see him on stage? As he weighed the question, he found that he didn't quite mind the idea of Luke attending. That whole rollercoaster of a conversation they just had was probably the most open they'd been with each other in a long time – even if Luke was still keeping things from him. But there was a crack in his uncle Ben was starting to see, a glimpse of the man getting closer to finally telling him everything.

Pushing his uncle away now could cost Ben the truth, for it never felt closer.

Before Ben could give his uncle the go ahead, there was a timid knock at the door. Ben was about to tell whoever it was to go away when it cracked open and Rey peeked inside.

"Rey," Ben said, flustered as he stood from his perch on the desk.

Her eyes bounced between him and Luke, unsure as she stepped inside. "Sorry, I know we said we'd meet at the café, but I wanted to surprise you by dropping by so we could walk there together. Or is this a bad time…"

"No – no," Ben stammered. "I was just finishing up here."

Luke approached Rey, hand outstretched in greeting. "Hi, I'm Luke Skywalker, Ben's uncle."

By all accounts, it looked as if Rey had short circuited on the spot, eyes peeled back and mouth slack as she stared at Luke. She composed herself quickly and went in on the handshake, but her initial reaction had been more than noticeable.

The smile she offered didn't quite meet her eyes. "I'm Rey." Followed up by a whole lot of awkward silence.

Luke kept staring at Rey, Rey looked to the floor, and Ben kept glancing between the two.

Ben took a step closer to the pair. "Uh, yeah… I guess today is full of surprises. I didn't know my uncle would stop by."

Rey glanced at his uncle. "You live in New York, too?"

"No, I'm still in LA. But I wanted to come visit and see how Ben was doing, make sure he's staying out of trouble. I'm actually going to see the play he's in on Saturday." Luke looked to Ben, knowing he never actually gave permission. Luke took Ben's silence as acquiescence. "Are you in it too?" he asked Rey.

"Oh, no. I'm not even close to being an actor. But I'm playing in the orchestra, so you'll see me there."

"Right," Luke said, snapping his fingers as if remembering something. "The cello."

Rey was speechless, clearly confused as to how Luke had known she played an instrument. Had Ben mentioned it earlier? He must have… hadn't he?

Luke smiled at her, then glanced at Ben. "Well, I should probably get going. You two have fun at lunch and I'll see you on Saturday. It was nice meeting you, Rey."

Rey barely got out a, "Likewise," before Luke was gone.

()()()()()

For a brief moment, Rey closed her eyes, took a breath. The chatter of the other customers filled her ears, the dark aroma of coffee permeating the air. She tried to find a calming center amongst the familiarity of the smells and noises, but that goal was distant, her mind replaying meeting Ben's uncle pulling it further from reach.

More specifically, the handshake the two of them shared. There was something about it that she couldn't quite pinpoint. Not a memory, for she had never met him, but a sense of a feeling.

Was he truly Leia's brother? Did he know what happened to her and Ben's parents? Or how everything about them had seemingly been erased from existence?

What the hell was going on? Question after question raced through her mind, and none of it made sense.

Ben had told her on their way over that he must have informed his uncle she played the cello, but even he seemed uncertain about it. Like he was trying to persuade himself he had divulged that piece of info. Rey had an inkling he hadn't.

She heard the chair across from her slide against the tiled floor and opened her eyes.

"Order is in," Ben said as he sat down. He placed two cups of water, straws, and a metal stand holding their order number on the dark hardwood surface. "Hopefully the wait won't be too long."

"Thank you for paying."

"No problem." He glanced around the occupied tables and bar area, the cafe hopping with life. "Good job on saving us a table. Looks like we got here in the middle of the lunch rush."

Rey noticed the line at the register was almost out the door. "We can go somewhere else once we get our order, if you want. I know you don't like crowds."

"It's fine," he said as he pushed his sunglasses further up his nose. She eyed the leather gloves on his hands, more questions hanging on the tip of her tongue. But if he could hold back from hounding her for answers, she could give him the same courtesy.

"Okay," she said. And then, silence.

Rey looked to the world outside, watching the stop and go of cars and the rushing of commuters. Across the way was a French bakery, its outside dining of small circular tables completely full of customers. She scanned their faces, but didn't recognize anyone. It was absurd, she knew, but it was like she could sense she was being watched ever since they left Ben's office. Like a pair of eyes had been zoned in on her every step. Was Ben's uncle following them? Did he know the history of–

"You okay?"

Rey snapped her attention back to Ben, his brows tight with concern. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine." She could definitely work on sounding more convincing.

"You sure? Because you've been kind of quiet since we left my office. If I did anything to upset you–"

"No, no nothing at all," she was quick to say. "You haven't done anything. I swear. It's not you."

"Then–"

"How was seeing your uncle?" she asked, switching the topic more onto him.

"Um… it was okay."

She went for a cup of water, taking a small sip. "Just okay?"

Ben ran a hand through his hair. "Trust me, okay is a vast improvement than how it usually goes between us."

"Your uncle, he's the one who raised you, right?" There was a pause, then Ben nodded. "And your parents…"

"Dead, I presume," he stated so matter of factly, like it was common knowledge.

"You presume?"

Grabbing a straw, he tapped it against the tabletop twice, the plastic jutting free from the wrapper. "The topic of my parents is a tough one to talk about." He took a long sip of his water.

Rey watched him intently, not sure of his mood with how monotone his voice was. And the sunglasses sure weren't helping. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked if it's too painful." When in doubt, just apologize. Her mother had taught her that one.

Ben played with the paper wrapper between his fingers. "It's not because it's painful or anything like that. It's tough to talk about because I have no answers as to what happened to them."

Rey's heart hiccuped. "What do you mean?"

Their order arrived: two turkey artichoke paninis, an Americano, and an Earl Grey tea with a splash of milk. Rey palmed her warm drink, her stomach wound up so tight in knots, she couldn't fathom filling it with anything besides water, and even that was questionable at this point.

Ben took a few bites, wiping at his mouth with a napkin. "When I was young," he started to say, "my uncle only told me that they were dead. As I got older, I tried looking them up with city records or death certificates or newspaper articles, whatever I could find. But nothing. No records of them anywhere. It's as if they don't exist."

Don't exist… just like her parents. It was one of the first things she looked into when she came back to life – finding her parents. But it was all for naught. There were no records of them or the Solos. Like none of them had ever existed, wiped from the archives of the earth and the memories of those who knew them. People she once knew didn't even recognize her, nor recalled her execution or Ben's murder.

All she had left was the chest that woman had somehow saved for her, waiting at the abandoned house that was once hers and Ben's. All those possessions served as a reminder that Rey's life wasn't one big hallucination. Her life from that point onward had now turned into a curse, one she had to bear alone, the world no longer remembering her or her former love.

It was the punishment God must have given her for all her wrongdoings. But with Ben now back, Rey wasn't sure what God's intentions were.

"What about your birth certificate?" Rey suggested.

He shook his head, working at the bite he just took and swallowing quickly. "It's even more ambiguous. Apparently I was dropped at a fire station shortly after being born, and then my uncle got custody of me and adopted me pretty soon after."

"Then you're not blood related."

"Oh, we are." Ben washed down the last bite with a big gulp of water. "I had our DNA compared by using strands of his hair. According to the results, he's my biological uncle."

What. The. Fuck.

A blood relative?

"But…" how was that possible, she finished in her head.

"Trust me, I know how confusing it all is." But Ben sure didn't look confused. He actually looked quite blasé about the whole thing, like all those deadends were just normal parts of his life by now. "How my parents can simply not exist doesn't make sense. And I honestly still don't know how my uncle got away with adopting me so quickly, or how he got it so my last name matched with my supposed father."

Rey's chest cavity sure was taking a beating from her pounding heart, but she felt compelled to make sure she had one detail correct. "And your mother's name is Leia Organa, and your father's is Han Solo," she said, reiterating what he had told her on the way over to lunch.

"I mean, this is all according to my uncle, so who the fuck knows if it's true. The only thing I can logically come up with is that they worked for the CIA and were spies or something. A job went bad and they were killed."

"That's… it's…" Rey was having a hard time squelching down another wave of shock. The amount of mysteries that pertained to Ben was spiraling to epic levels. Reincarnation was the only feasible thing that came to mind when it came to him. But then… had his parents also been reborn? And with the same names? Maybe it was possible. The last time Rey had looked into her parents and the Solos was in the 40's, leaving 80 years for something to happen without her noticing. But Ben couldn't find anything about his parents now.

Rey's skull felt like it was about to split open from all the mental gymnastics it was having to do.

"It's a lot to take in, I know. Luke promised he'd give me answers at some point in my life. But the older I get, the more I honestly don't believe he ever fucking will." Ben went quiet, his gaze going out the window.

Rey's face felt like it was on fire, her brain working on overdrive.

"You know…" Ben slowly began to say, shifting slightly in his seat. "My uncle actually told me he loved me, back at my office."

"Oh," Rey said, trying to shoo her anxiety away. She could tell that even bringing up such a subject was a big deal to Ben, and that he was looking for someone to listen. Being emotionally vulnerable was difficult for him, as he had previously admitted to her in their late night texts a couple nights ago. "Were you not expecting that?"

He shook his head, taking a sip of his coffee. Licking his lips, he said, "Our relationship was never really like that. Especially as I got older."

"Do you not believe him when he says he loves you?"

"I don't know. I want to, but… how can you love someone and keep things from them."

Rey swallowed. "Well, caring about someone doesn't make you a perfect person. People still make mistakes, even if feelings run deep."

"I just – I can't agree. If you genuinely cared, then you wouldn't want to hurt the other person."

"Maybe feelings and intentions are more complicated than you think."

"It seems black and white to me."

"If that were so, life would be a lot less confusing."

Ben seemed to concede on that point somewhat, since he didn't immediately put up an argument. "What about you?" he asked, switching the subject back to her. "Your family?"

"Oh, umm…" She thought over the question for a moment, trying to decide on what story to give him. "My parents died when I was 18, a few years before I lost my husband."

His eyes widened. "Fuck. Shit, I'm so sorry."

"Well, it's how life goes, I guess." Except that's not how life went, not for her. She didn't feel good about lying, but she wasn't ready to reveal the truth, either. "You know, car accidents."

"Your husband was in a car accident?"

"No, my parents were," Rey said, then hesitated. She had the strong urge for the next part to be the truth. "My husband… my husband was murdered."

That moment she had found him after coming home, how she froze in shock before screaming and running to him….

The image of his dead body was carved into her brain, deep as a canyon, never to lose its contours no matter how many times she recalled it or how many years had passed.

Ben took off his glasses, his gaze boring into hers, filling with compassion. He was here, alive. But having him breathing the same air as her again did not make her forget the nightmare of the past. If anything, it made her want to ignore the mystery of how he was among the living again, where his parents had gone, and how Luke tied into it all. She was afraid of the answers, of facing reality.

Answers could take Ben away. She couldn't lose him again.

"So, I don't really have family anymore," Rey added, her fingernails digging into the side of the cardboard cup of her tea. "Except for Finn. Even though, I guess, we aren't related."

Ben reached across the table and placed an ungloved hand atop hers, easing it off of the drink and intertwining their fingers. Her breath hitched, heart skipping, like she had missed the last step going down stairs.

"I'm sorry," he said, eyes impossibly sincere. "I know… I know what it feels like to want family. To miss them."

And truly, she could feel he meant it, like his emotions were transmitting on a wavelength her heart could somehow pick up on: his want for her running deeply, fiercely, that she almost wept on the spot. It was how Ben felt, the first Ben, all those many years ago, when they had everything together.

This was him, completely and wholly him.

"I feel it, too," he said softly, ardently. Whatever was being shared through their touch was a heady impression, an energy that fizzed through her bloodstream and allowed them into the very vestments of the other's soul.

"What is this?" she asked, almost in a trance.

But there would be no anwer.

Ben's sudden movement was so quick, it startled her. Like he'd been electrocuted, spine going straight. He was zeroing in on something outside, eyes intense and focused. Rey followed his line of sight–

Her body responded instantly the second she saw him, standing so quick the chair flopped back onto the floor. Everything became background noise, almost non existent as her eyes peeled wide open, those sharp features of the man's face and the flames of his red hair exactly as she remembered.

Sipping his tea, he locked eyes with her. And then she remembered… dust in the air, people all about, and those same blue eyes latching onto her as she strolled down the streets of London.

London 1910, Late Fall

It was uncommon to have such a nice sunny day in the first week of December. Four straight weeks of gloomy skies, rain, and an all around atmospheric dreariness had Lorraine's mood slowly slough down into the gutter. But then, the sun appeared in the morning, and Lorraine knew that the day could not be wasted.

It hadn't been difficult to convince her mother to accompany her into London, for she also found her spirits to be lightened by the sunshine and rare warmth.

Apparently, much of the London population thought the same: the streets were heavy with traffic, pockets of tossed up dirt causing coughing fits, and the shops packed with customers.

Lorraine gasped, taking a sharp blow to the ribs, too many people hurrying about for her to make out the culprit.

"Maybe coming to the city was a bad idea," Lorraine posited, rubbing at the soon-to-be bruise beneath her brown coat and white ruffle blouse.

Her mother kept hold of her black flat brimmed hat with one hand as she said, "I'm not about to turn around and let great weather pass me by."

Lorraine was starting to regret recommending a trip to London with mother.

"There might not be much of me left"–Lorraine wiggled between a pair of women– "with how crowded it is."

"Use those elbows," her mother called out, setting an example with a man walking too slow.

Lorraine clutched onto her dark blue skirt, lifting it so she could traverse between the throngs of people and uneven cobblestones. "We could go into one of the shops and stay there till it dies down," she offered as a solution.

"I was wanting to get to O'Connor's Jewelry. I think they have– Oh, it's Armitage," her mother exclaimed, stopping right in the middle of the sidewalk, much to the chagrin of those proceeding around them.

Having heard his name, Armitage's eyes widened when he glanced up and latched onto sights with Lorraine, quickly standing from the small table he'd been occupying outside of the teahouse. The compact area of outside tables was marked off with metal railings, allowing a divide between a dining customer and passerbys.

Armitage reached over the railing, kissing Satine's hand before offering the same salutation to Lorraine. It didn't escape her notice that his lips lingered for just a brief moment, or how his eyes never wavered from hers as his head lowered.

"It's a pleasure to see two beautiful young ladies out and about today," said Armitage, his charm on full display.

Satine chuckled. "Come come, Armitage. There are droves of beautiful women in London today. Maybe if you lifted your eyes away from your book" –Satine inclined her head to the open novel on the table– "you'd notice your surroundings more. Maybe even a lovely match for yourself."

"Books are less intimidating to interact with."

"Not all women bite, Armitage."

"It's usually their words that have more of a sting," he said with a smile.

"Only because we're more clever," Satine countered playfully. Lorraine rolled her eyes.

"I don't doubt that." Armitage motioned to his table. "Would you like to join me for a bit? Shortbread biscuits should be arriving soon."

Satine adjusted a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Thank you, but I don't think I have the time. But I'm sure Lorraine can stay and keep you company."

Lorraine looked to her mother. "Oh, I was actually wanting to stop by the WSPU office while we're–"

"We can't today," her mother said, her gloved hand resting on Lorraine's shoulder. "And with the crowds, I'll be quicker at O'Connor's if it's just me. Stay here with Armitage, and when I get back, we can go to that sweets shop you love so much." As her mother started moving away, she waved and yelled out, "I'll be less than an hour."

And then it was just her and Armitage, Lorraine not sure what to say to him. He probably didn't think part of his day would encompass babysitting, and Lorraine couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

"So," he started to say, holding out his hand to her. Reluctantly, she ducked beneath the railing, taking his hand to help her back up. He guided her to the seat across from him, tucking the chair beneath her as she sat.

"Your mother didn't seem keen on letting you go where you want," Armitage observed as he took his place opposite her.

"Not a surprise," Lorraine muttered, crossing her arms at her chest.

"Your parents don't approve of the WSPU?"

"It's not that." An extra glass of water and a tray of biscuits were placed on the table, but Lorraine kept up with the indignant pouting. "They agree with me and even support the association by donating some of their money. They just think that the change we're trying to accomplish will take longer than I think it will."

Armitage started nibbling on the shortbread. "They probably don't want to see their daughter disappointed. But things are changing."

"Not quick enough for me," Lorraine said a little too forcefully. She took a breath, centering herself. "I know cultural – even lawful – changes take time, I understand that."

"You should be more kind to yourself with what you're trying to do," Armitage admonished. "You're helping to set the foundation for women to have more rights in this country, not just lawfully but also in their own households. It's something that will be felt for decades to come."

Lorraine leaned forward. "But I want to be alive to feel the benefits, not just set the groundwork for them. I know it's selfish, but–"

"I don't think it is," he clarified, finishing off the biscuit. "You know it's okay to want things for yourself."

"Yes, well, my father loves to remind me that selfishness ruins societies that should be charitable."

Armitage mulled over her statement for a moment. "True, but I think some degree of egocentrism is a good thing. There is no one in this world who knows your wants and needs better than you do. Some focus should be put on your own happiness, for there is no one else you can trust with your dreams but you."

"Dreams are for children, apparently," Lorraine weakly countered.

"Dreams do not disappear with age. Nor should they. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

She let out a long exhale, shrugging. "Well, my parents want me to stop going to the WSPU meetings."

Armitage arched a brow. "I didn't know you frequented those."

"I don't frequent them as much anymore after my parents voiced their concerns for my safety."

"Are punches being thrown at these get togethers?" he asked, his small teasing smile being hidden behind his teacup as he took a sip.

Lorraine did one of her signature eyerolls, probably the twentieth of the day. "Hardly. It's the men that frequent the pub next door that's the problem. They heckle at us and say some unpleasant things when we are leaving."

Armitage's demeanor grew serious instantly. "Do they come inside?"

"So far, no. They stay outside and by the pub, but since it's next door, they're always right there."

"They've never tried making advances on you ladies?"

"Advances?"

"Have they tried touching you?"

Lorraine hesitated to reply, but that was all Armitage needed to surmise the truth. He stood abruptly, his obvious anger coloring his pale face a sharp crimson. "If they touched you–"

Half standing, Lorraine grabbed his hand, beckoning him to sit. "It wasn't me, I swear. They've never touched me, Armitage. It was one of the other girls, and she slapped him straight away."

Armitage stiffly sat back down, and to Lorraine's surprise, took her hand in both of his. "If anything ever happens, you need to tell me."

The anger was still in his eyes, but his worry for her was softening it. "Nothing is going to happen–." She cut herself off as he pegged her with a weighty stare. "Okay, alright. I'll tell you if anything happens."

He nodded, placated for the time being. She slid her hand out from his, placing both in her lap. There was silence between them for a bit, Armitage gazing down at his opened book on the table, though his eyes were not moving. Lorraine couldn't tell what he was thinking, expression now blank and unreadable.

She chewed at her bottom lip. "Are you going to tell me that my parents were right? That my safety is more important than the movement I support?"

"No," he stated quickly.

"Ben would have."

"I'm not Ben."

"I'll have you know I'm not completely daft when it comes to the risks I'm taking. I no longer attend the conferences in the city… which is why I took it upon myself to start some unofficial meetings at my home with some friends who live nearby." Lorraine paused, thought for a moment. "We talk about the weekly newsletters the women's social publishes, as well as writing down our own ideas." Lorraine wasn't sure why she felt the need to explain herself. Maybe she just wanted someone to understand.

"These unofficial meetings are what your parents want you to stop doing?"

She nodded. "I thought by not going to them in the city, that it would pacify their concern. And it has, somewhat. They just think I might be too vocal about it, putting more attention on me than they would like." Lorraine took a deep inhale. "And then there's all the wedding preparations my mother thinks I should focus more of my energy on."

"How is that going? Shouldn't that be happening next year with you turning 16?"

Lorraine smoothed the top of her skirt, always feeling a bit flustered when talking of the wedding. Her wedding."My parents are actually considering putting it off another year."

Armitage cocked his head to the side. "Did they come up with that idea, or did you?"

"I just… I think I need more time." Lorraine reached across the table in a pleading gesture. "Please don't tell Ben. We haven't sent word yet and I–"

"I won't say a word. Promise."

It felt good, this kind of honesty. To share a part of herself that she hadn't shown to anyone else in a very long time. She wasn't trying to be Lorraine: The Daughter, or Rey: The Fiancé. In this moment, she was just herself. It didn't feel confusing; it felt just right. And for once… someone liked her for her. For once, someone wasn't lecturing her about what she should do with her life or the decisions she should be making.

"You know," Armitage started saying, his finger rounding the top of his teacup, "if you don't want to stop your meetings, I could probably help you out. I recently bought a country home right outside of Newchapel, more as an investment than to actually live there. But I could let you borrow it for your meetings for a while."

"Newchapel is right near me."

"I know. It would work out rather well, I think. Your friends who live nearby could still come."

Lorraine covered her mouth, excitement coursing through her. "Oh, are you sure?"

"Absolutely," he stated, grin going wide.

"Well… thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me. I just wish I could pay you back somehow."

"Don't fret about that."

"No, really, I'll need to pay you back," she insisted. "I don't like feeling indebted."

Armitage started in on another biscuit. "Well, nothing comes to mind at the moment, but maybe something will present itself in the future. For now, just focus on keeping your meetings up and running. And remember," he said earnestly, "I'm alway here for you if you ever need help."

Lorraine snatched a piece of shortbread off the tray, feeling so grateful and beyond elated that she had found a way to keep a special part of her life going.

It was difficult to keep herself from constantly smiling for the rest of the day, and even when her mother commented on her more chipper mood, Lorraine feigned ignorance.

She wasn't about to divulge her and Armitage's secret.

()()()()()

Present Day

Time didn't freeze, but rather suspended as she gazed at the man across the street, her mind trying to understand what she was seeing. Armitage was dead, she knew that for a fact. And yet there he was, sipping leisurely from a small white teacup, legs crossed and carefree.

Everything seemed to happen quickly after they made eye contact.

Rey made for the door with unnatural speed. She vaguely heard Ben call out something. Probably her name. It was hard to tell over the pounding in her ears.

As she exited the eatery, a delivery truck cut right in front of her, making her lose sight of Armitage for only just a moment. Darting across the street, desperate to get him back in view, a car slammed on its brakes and honked at her, but Rey kept going.

When she got to the bakery, the man was nowhere in sight. Rey spun around, searching.

Adrenaline hummed through her veins, the heady overload of energy quickly morphing into shock, her heightened senses overwhelming her brain.

Seeing him again, even just a glimpse, had poured gasoline into the spark of fear that lived eternally within her stomach.

A hand was on her arm. Ben was there, talking to her, his mouth appearing to be forming words, but there was a ringing in her ears that made comprehension difficult.

"I–" she said, her voice giving out after a single word. "I–"

Worry slathered all over his face, she read his lips as he spoke: Are you alright?

Rey wasn't sure how she responded. Did she shake her head? Did she say no? Did she blink her response in morse code? Whatever she did, Ben clearly got the message that she was definitely not alright.

Then they were both just inside a nearby alleyway, next to a green dumpster. Ben must have brought them there, though Rey couldn't recall taking the steps.

Noises were starting to get through to her, but it all sounded distant.

"Rey?" Ben said gently, both his hands on her arms. "What's going on? What happened?"

"I'm–" She meant to end that with a fine, but instead took in a gasp of air. Then another. And it was like her lungs couldn't get oxygen and her stomach was twisting in pain and her vision couldn't keep focus on Ben's face.

Legs numb, she crumbled to the ground, Ben holding tightly onto her upper arms.

"I got you, I got you," Ben said as he helped ease her to the ground. He was the only thing keeping her upright as her lips started to vibrate and her mouth suddenly went dry.

"I think…" she started to say. "I'm gonna–" And then she vomited. Ben had been quick enough to situate her head to the side, one of his arms wrapping across her chest to steady her, the other going for her hair to hold it away from her face.

Three wretches seemed to do the trick of emptying all the contents from her stomach, which was mainly just liquid from the water. Still, it left her mouth and throat stinging.

Ben stayed where he was as Rey sat there for a few minutes, breathing deeply, trying to bring herself back from the brink of passing out.

"Are you feeling a bit better?" he whispered.

Their eyes met, and all she could do in that moment was hold his gaze. That was when she saw it, the rippling of shadow moving across his sight, the exact same phenomenon she'd witnessed the day she first met him at his office. The day he came back to her.

The movement mesmerized her, drawing her in. Whispers swirled in the air, the outside world lessening, both in sight and in noise. Was it… was it trying to speak to her?

Then Ben shook his head, looking away, eyes squeezed shut. "Quiet," she heard him bite out. Rey flinched in his arms. "Not you," he quickly amended, attention back on her. The shadow was gone and the world of New York filled her senses once again, the whispers having receded. "I wasn't saying that to you."

Rey glanced to the left, then to the right. There was no one near them. Clearing her throat, she hoarsely said, "I'd like to go home."

Taking out his phone, Rey glanced at the screen, watching him request an Uber. It was two minutes away. A text notification appeared at the top. Ben dismissed it with a quick swipe, but not before Rey could read the first few words: I care about you and…

"Who's Bazine?" she blurted out, having also seen the name.

Ben helped her up, keeping an arm wrapped around her since her legs were still making her wobbly. He didn't answer her outright, instead focusing on getting her to the sidewalk as they waited for their ride.

Rey couldn't help zeroing in on his silence, all sorts of scenarios running through her brain as to who this woman could be, even though she had no right to be thinking of such things. Were her and Ben in a relationship? They hadn't really talked about what they were to each other. Hadn't set any rules or expectations, except to take it slow and no sexual intimacy.

Was Ben dating other people? He had alluded to having a playboy persona the last time he lived in New York, but that was years ago.

The Uber arrived, and they both got situated in the back. Ben, with all his broadness and bulk, somehow squeezed himself in the middle seat, keeping his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

She noticed him murmuring on and off during the ride, only catching a few words here and there. By how soft he spoke, she knew he wasn't talking to her. Did he talk to himself when stressed? It was the first time she noticed him doing it.

"Bazine… she was my sponsor back in LA," Ben whispered close to her ear, now addressing her. "She's been texting me to see how I've been doing."

Rey suspected there was more to it, but she didn't have it in her to ask anything else. Her mind kept battling between this Bazine person and seeing Armitage, who was supposed to be six feet underground.

Replaying that moment back at the cafe over and over again, she started to question if it was actually him. He'd been across the street, putting a good distance between them. Maybe it was someone who looked similar, which wouldn't be the first time that happened. Every decade or so, Rey would think she caught a glimpse of him, only to realize her mind had been playing tricks on her. But this was the first encounter where she actually locked eyes with him, looking straight at him instead of thinking she saw him out of her periphery.

If it was Armitage… if it was…

"Back at the coffee shop," Rey began to say, "before I rushed out, you suddenly looked at someone outside." Gazing out the window, too anxious to glance at him, she continued, "Do you know him?"

"No," Ben responded, voice so deep. "But I've seen him before."

Rey snapped her eyes to him, a wave of panic pulsing through her body with every beat of her heart. "Where? When?"

Shrugging, he said, "My first night back here, I went to an AA meeting. I saw him as I was leaving."

"What was he doing?"

"Doing?" Ben repeated back, confused. Rey nodded. "Uh… just watching me as I walked down the street. He waved at me. But I haven't seen him at a meeting since."

Oh, god.

It had to be Armitage. Somehow, it just had to be. Which meant she couldn't let Ben out of her sight.

With shaky hands, she got out her phone and texted Finn to come home immediately.

The rest of the ride to her place was silent, Rey's thoughts going through years of archived memories. Once they arrived, Rey insisted Ben come up with her.

"You sure?" Ben asked.

"Yes," she stated resolutely, sliding her hand in his. "I think it's time we talk."

Ben blinked, then nodded, knowing exactly what she meant: Rey was going to explain everything. Well, mostly everything. She didn't have the courage to go so far as to divulge her fuck ups completely.

But with enough information, Ben would come to understand that his life was possibly at stake. Rey wasn't going to ignore the signs of danger. That foolishness had cost her Ben once before, and she wasn't in the mood to repeat the past.

Trusting Armitage had ruined her life. So she promised herself – and inwardly to Ben – that the next time she saw that man, she would kill him.

A/N

Thanks for reading! I'm not sure when the next update will be, though I am eager to write it. I'm trying to shift my focus on getting part 1 of the epilogue out on Orange Sky next. I know that that has been long overdue, and it is almost finished!