Author's note:

Thank you so much for your comments!

I want to thank my wonderful beta-readers who helped me so much in this fic:
- hellostarlight (AO3)
- Megara09 (AO3)
- Everren (AO3) or Everren327 (Twitter)
- asongstress1422 (AO3)
I thank you all so much, you wonderful human beings, I couldn't have done it without you!

I hope you enjoy this chapter!

The scar is gone.

The realization hits him like a solid wave. When Rey had healed him, she'd healed not only the stab wound but also the jagged scar across his cheek. With trembling hands, he rushes to remove his cloak, letting it fall to the ground with a wet sound, followed by his belt and his tunic. He yanks up the hem of his undershirt to look at his stomach. Flawless, pale white skin. Breathing heavily, he replaces the shirt and pulls down the fabric at his right shoulder — clear and smooth.

All his scars are gone. They have been erased from existence as if they were never there in the first place. Instead of relief, he feels hollow inside. Like some part of him, part of his past, has been eradicated without his permission. His mouth dries and the nausea rises in him again.

He stumbles the rest of the way into the wreckage, away from the still-raging storm. The crashing of waves is dulled down to a distant rumbling, sweat replacing the salt water on his face.

Even the little scars, scars he acquired in countless battles or when he hurt himself in his rage, are gone. His past, gone. Let the past die. He himself had said that. He believed in that. Now...he isn't so sure anymore. He feels like a part of his identity has been stolen. Whatever that was, anyway. Who is he now? Who is he supposed to be?

He slows down, the sound of his steps echoing from the walls, breathing deeply. He tries to calm down again, to think clearly. He doesn't know who he is. But has he ever really known?

Since he was just a child, he's always felt uncomfortable in his skin, never feeling at ease when surrounded by people. Everyone saw him as a legacy, the son of the infamous Han Solo and Princess Leia, nephew of Luke Skywalker, grandson of Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala. Even when he was alone, he never felt like he belonged to himself. There was always this shadow in his mind, a part that whispered to him; threatening, beckoning, never telling him who he was but what he could become.

Once he was in his teen years, he grew like weed. Arms and legs too long, body skinny and stretched, awkward looking as if it didn't quite know how to fit all of him in and had gotten the proportions wrong. It made him angry that even his own body wouldn't listen to him, and he lashed out. His parents couldn't bother to find the time to deal with him, which only made him more angry. He became a problem. A problem that had to be gotten rid of by sending him to Luke.

Under Luke's teachings, he grew stronger and excelled in every discipline. But he still didn't fit in, felt the jealous or wary looks of his fellow students and the worried frowns of his uncle. Even here he was an outsider, and Luke, another family member, was just another person trying to forge him into something he was not.

Still, he didn't stop trying to fit the mold, to live up to the great legacy of the Skywalkers. Until he found out that all of it had been a lie. When he was 23 years old, he learned who his grandfather really had been: Not a hero who was killed by a Sith Lord called Darth Vader, but Darth Vader himself. His own family, who were the only people he trusted, had been lying to him for his whole life. So finally he gave in and listened to the voice.

When he joined the First Order, he discarded the name that bore so much weight, just like his family discarded him, and instead chose a new one: Kylo Ren. And with it — with Snoke's guidance — he had hoped to find where he belonged. But Snoke only nurtured the conflict, pain, and anger in him, manipulating his every thought and emotion, even his memories. Over the course of years, he molded him into a weapon, a tool trained to destroy, to torture and to kill.

And he'd served his master well. Entire villages executed by his command, even his own father dead to please his master, to finally be worth something in someone's eyes. Snoke had trained him so well that, even after Snoke's death, he'd followed his will and almost obliterated the entire Resistance, and with it, his mother.

His mother. He caused her nothing but pain. He left his family and turned to the Dark Side, he caused the death of hundreds of Resistance members. He ripped away her husband, the love of her life, and broke her heart again and again.

But she forgave him despite everything. She never gave up on him and, in her last moment, she reached out to him. She forgave him. Just like his father. He gulps back a sob and throws his hand to his face, his shoulders shaking violently, dragged back to the memory of his father's final goodbye. He doesn't deserve their forgiveness. He doesn't deserve to be forgiven at all.

And wasn't he punished the moment they forgave him? The biggest scars had been inflicted by people he loved. By people who loved him once. Chewbacca and Rey. Shot and cut. He deserved that.

'And they have forgiven you.'

Ben's head jerks up, his hands falling from his face, when he hears an unfamiliar voice. Not quite in his head, but also not really in his ears.

'My son forgave me, and I have done far worse.'

He whips around, eyes jumping over the debris. The voice sounds so young. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a tall figure appear, and he jerks back, grabbing his lightsaber.

A man, younger than Ben himself, stands a few feet away. His posture is relaxed and his hair frames his face in dark blond waves, not unlike Ben's own. A thin scar runs down next to his eye, and he looks at him with sympathy.

Ben frowns. He does not recognise this man, but something about him is familiar. He narrows his eyes, looking the man over, wary.

"Who are you?" Despite trying to sound harsh, his voice is fragile, as if it would break any moment. His grip on the lightsaber tightens.

The man looks at him for a long time, a somber expression on his young face. "You're the one who tried to talk to me all these years, Ben." His voice is full of sadness and regret.

Ben shakes his head, deepening his frown. "I don't understand..."

"I see so much of your mother in you," he says with fondness, mixed with something like regret. "You have your grandmother's eyes, but it seems like, unfortunately, you got my hair. I remember how trialsome it could be."

It takes some time for Ben to process his words, struck speechless by the faint blue glow around the figure. Ben's eyes track over the man's features, searching for more clues and finding similar hair to his own, eyes blue like Luke's.

"Grandfather?" he stammers, gaping at him. A smile appears on the man's lips, and he inclines his head in a way of greeting. "Why..." Anger boils deep inside him, and he clenches his fists. "Why?"

Anakin's smile fades, and his shoulders slump visibly. Seeing his grandfather look so defeated makes him only angrier.

"Why have you never answered me?" Ben growls, his voice deep and menacing. "I asked for your help all those years, and you never said anything, didn't even give me a sign!"

"Ben, you—"

"All these years, I've been torn between the Dark and the Light, always struggling. I needed your guidance. Your help. But what did I get? Nothing!"

His head is reeling with all the suppressed memories crashing back again. ' Forgive me, I feel it again. The call to the Light.' He needed answers, but silence was the only response. Even after killing his father, after being defeated by Rey, when he needed his grandfather the most, he didn't answer. ' I thought once he was gone, it would have all been better. So why does it hurt more now, Grandfather? Why is the light still calling to me?'

"You are just like the rest of my family," Ben spits, his face contorting almost painfully, and he does very little to mask the rage in his eyes. "Cowards, all of you! Like Luke, like my parents, you abandoned me!" There is something behind that shout, a deep and old pain.

"I couldn't reach you," Anakin says, his voice full of regret. "You didn't try to talk to me , Ben. You tried to talk to Darth Vader , an entity that no longer existed because I chose another path..." He averts his eyes before he continues, "Your mother, she...she has never forgiven me for what I did. I don't blame her." His voice has become quiet. "She never wanted anything to do with me once I became one with the Force. I wasn't able to talk to her, no matter what I tried."

Ben turns his back to the ghost and runs a hand over his face. He doesn't want to think about his mother now.

"This was different. I wanted to talk to you. Maybe if you tried harder —" He stops himself. If he tried harder...what would he have done, then? Would he have chosen a different path, too? He hears his grandfather's footsteps approaching him. He exhales and forces his hands to open and relax before he slowly turns back to him. Anakin is standing much nearer to him now, and it's strange to realize the man he had looked up to most of his life, he must look down on to meet his eyes. There's warmth in those blue eyes. Like Luke's eyes on a salt encrusted battlefield. A look of compassion that is so often mirrored in Rey's eyes.

Ben averts his gaze and presses his lips firmly together. He almost flinches away when a hand touches his shoulder. He looks up to see Anakin standing next to him.

"Even if I somehow had managed to break through to you, you wouldn't have listened," he murmurs. "You know it's true. Your father said all that I would have told you and more. You refused to listen to him then, and you wouldn't have been ready to hear my advice either. You would have rejected it and pushed yourself just that much farther into the dark."

Ben knows he's right, so he can only nod, his mouth too dry to speak, thinking of the dread that had overtaken his mind as his father fell.

"It was heartbreaking to see you like that. But I never gave up hope for you, Grandson." Ben's eyes flutter and he watches him with a frown, unable to decide whether he believes him or not. "Neither has the rest of your family."

"How can you say that?" Ben croaks, looking for the lie in his face but finding only truth shining through.

"Your family has never abandoned you, Ben. It's true, your parents made a lot of mistakes, but they loved you. They sent you away not because they wanted to get rid of you, but because they were worried about you and felt that they wouldn't be able to help you. They were scared. They sent you to Luke because they trusted him."

"Wrongly," he barked through gritted teeth. "Skywalker gave up on me too," he says, his voice dripping with bitterness. "When I needed him most, he tried to kill me."

Anakin closes his eyes and shakes his head, sighing. "Your uncle...my son shouldn't have made that mistake. He shouldn't even have thought it." He looks back at him, tired. "But it happened. He regretted the moment he drew his saber. And he suffered for it. Luke didn't hide because he was a coward. He didn't hide because he completely lost hope in you. He was ashamed. He was too ashamed to face you because he did that to you." He squeezes Ben's shoulder, his eyes softening. "But he didn't give up on you, in the end. He sacrificed his life to help you. Your uncle loves you, Ben."

Ben frowns. "You've spoken to him?"

His eyebrows jump up, and the corners of his mouth twitch. "Often." Ben is surprised to hear him chuckle, a sound too youthful and not at all like he imagined his grandfather. "Since the battle of Crait, that is. It was impossible to contact him for many years after you disappeared. He removed himself from the Force as a type of misguided punishment."

Ben clears his throat. "Rey told me that."

Anakin searches his grandson's face closely. Then his eyes twinkle and his mouth twitches.

" What?" Ben demands. Anakin's smile widens into a grin as Ben's frown deepens. "What is it?"

Anakin's reply is to shake his head and lower it, locks falling over his forehead as he forces himself to sober. He clears his throat and looks back to his grandson, his expression carefully serious. Ben narrows his eyes at him. There's still that twinkle in his eyes.

"Your Rey is a strong woman. Clever, capable, compassionate," he says, and Ben is pretty sure he is fighting a smile as he continues, " beautiful ."

He feels heat rising in his cheeks and shakes his head. "What are you going on about?"

Anakin claps him on the shoulder. "You have chosen well, Grandson."

Ben turns his head to the side to avert his gaze, pressing his lips together. "It's not like that," he murmurs.

Anakin raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Ben huffs and glares at him, his cheeks burning. "I offered her my hand, and she rejected me..."

"So you are in love with her!" he exclaims triumphantly.

Ben jerks back, staring at him, flabbergasted. "You've gone crazy..." He shakes his head in disbelief and swats his hand away from his shoulder, but Anakin is unperturbed, beaming at him.

"I'm sorry, Grandson, but can't I be at least a little happy for you?"

Ben scowls. "There's nothing to be happy about." He walks a few steps, his body tense. He grits his teeth and runs a hand through his hair. "There's nothing. You're delusional. And besides, she wouldn't feel the same." He gives a bitter laugh. "How could she?"

"Well, look at you," Anakin says and gestures to all of him, "you're quite the looker, Ben. You have good genes after all; my great-grandchildren will be lovely."

Ben whirls around and shoots him a glare. "Be serious, Grandfather."

Anakin holds his hands up and inclines his head. "You're right. What I want to say is this: it's obvious that the girl is in love with you."

Ben freezes and gapes at him, and his heart stops for a moment. Then his scowl returns in full force. "I told you to be serious about this—"

"I am!" Anakin palms his face, sighing deeply. "We Skywalkers are all so stupid when it comes to love; I owe your grandmother such an appology..." he mutters and rubs his forehead. He lets go of his head and looks back to him, his face tired. "Rey is in love with you. I'm surprised that you didn't see that. No, wait—" he holds up a hand to hush any protest. "—I'm actually not surprised. You can't even admit your feelings to yourself! I bet she is in denial too! What is it with you children?"

Ben can only stare at him, lost for words. Anakin is pacing and muttering to himself now, something about kids these days and being in denial. It's strange to see him like this, looking so young but sounding like an old man. He follows him with his eyes and sighs. He can watch him pacing up and down for only so long before he has enough.

"Alright, fine!" he snaps, "I'm in love with her!" His words still echo from the walls and Ben cringes at hearing them reverberated back at him. Anakin stops in his tracks and stares at him."But she can't love me back," he adds with a quieter voice and lowers his head, his shoulders slumping. "I'm not good enough for her."

"Don't you think that's for Rey to decide?" Ben blinks and stares at him, and Anakin shrugs. "If she didn't love you, why would she have healed you?"

"She is very compassionate," Ben says stubbornly.

Anakin rolls his eyes. "I wouldn't exactly call the looks she has given you all this time compassionate… "

Ben suddenly wishes for the ground to open and swallow him. "How long have you been watching us?" he groans, glaring at him with a crimson face.

"...although one wise man once defined compassion as unconditional love..." Anakin muses with a far-away look in his eyes.

"Grandfather..." Ben growls, but Anakin hushes him with a raised hand.

"Wait—" His head whips this way and that. "—there's someone else who wants to talk to you. I must leave," he says hastily and then fixes him with a stern look. "Once, I wanted to save the love of my life. Go, Ben. Find Rey and finish what I started."

And then he vanishes, leaving Ben more confused than ever. A warm, familiar presence makes itself felt, growing stronger and brighter as it approaches him. His eyes jump around, searching the corners, eager and terrified for who he might find. There . Dread immobilizes him.

"My boy."

Author's note:

Anakin ships it :D

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