Ben was just a teenager still in his Jedi robes when he jumped into the pilot seat of the Falcon. He fumbled for a comm headset in the co-pilot's seat, pulling it on while deft fingers flipped over various buttons and switches with hesitance, some more than once to gouge what exactly it was they did.

His experimentation at least worked. The falcon rumbled to life, lights flickering on one by one and illuminating the cockpit. Pushing the control handle back and forth, the ship shifted but otherwise did not take off, and for a moment Ben imagined it actually being in the air, soaring through the skies of Naboo and through the galaxy, dreaming of being a great pilot like his father, akin to swinging around sticks in his early days and pretending he was a great Jedi like his uncle.

"Hey, kid."

Startled, Ben threw off the headset, hands clumsily and with haste flying over the switches and resetting them back to their original position at the firm voice of his father just over his shoulder, standing inside the cockpit, one arm raised and grasping the doorway, the other hand shoved into his pocket.

"Don't worry. I was a lot younger than you when I started flying." Han chuckled, "And lucky for you, in a worse situation."

He paused.

"Your mother's waiting for you."

"I know." Ben's lips pressed together, slowly turning in the pilot's seat for his guilt ridden expression to face the surprisingly lenient one of his father's.

Han had taken to feeling around the entrance of the cockpit, pressing on various spots to check the ship's integrity. He smirked. "Yeah, I don't care much for the meetings either. Listening to a bunch of hard-ass politicians isn't the way I want to spend my morning. That's just an old man's opinion though, I guess."

His smile was in equal measures as amused and affectionate, banging his fist against the side of the doorway. The metal groaned underneath the pressure, but its rigidity held up. "Now that you're a big shot Jedi, think you might be ready to fly her?"

Ben's eyes widened. Han, not waiting for an answer, instead slid into the co-pilot's seat. Father and son began flipping and toggling switches as they prepared the ship for take-off, the Falcon's engines hissing and roaring as it began to hover. It was half-way between crashing until the controls began to make sense, and with a grin-and a little assistance from his father-the Falcon soared out of the hangar bay, sailing through the early morning sunrise of Naboo, over the shining domes that glimmered in the faint light.

The Falcon boomed upward towards the atmosphere, the look on Ben's face one of pure joy as they ripped through the sky, maneuvering into a downward spiral and ripping upward with all of the strength that he could muster. Han let out an inaudible laugh from his side as they sailed over the waterfalls, and when Ben looked over, he laughed too.

It was home. Weakened memories of falling asleep to the sounds of his father's stories, all of his numerous adventures of sailing across the galaxy and getting into the trouble that Ben was so adamantly known for. His mother's gentle scolding and equal wisdom. His dreams had been simple then, those of a child ready to take on the world. A time when what he had wanted before hadn't long since been clouded by Kylo Ren and The First Order.


The lurching of the ship out of hyperspace stirred Ben from his sleep, wincing when the back of his skull collided with the interior wall. He'd barely had a moment to grasp his bearings, every muscle stiff and begging to be freed from their cramped confines, but his attempts to stretch had been fruitless from the limited space behind the pilot's seat. Gripping it for stability, the ship careening unsteadily into the world's atmosphere yanked away any drowsiness he had, attention turned forward at the rapidly passing scenery while the ship shuddered around them.

And he also heard Rey, casually talking to herself while she yanked at the controls.

"Listen, I know he is-was-the supreme leader of the First Order that threatened our lives more times than I can count, but he's Ben now, not Kylo Ren. Oh, and I talked to Leia's ghost and she convinced me to do this."

Rey sighed in defeat and slumped back, the force sending the seat slamming into Ben's legs and urging him to fold in tighter. "Yeah, that won't sound crazy at all." She mumbled to no one in particular, rubbing her eyes with her palms, resting a curled fist against her temple.

She looked tired, Ben noted. Her hair was tangled and reeked of ash and whatever else made up the fumes of Exogol-the relentless motion of running her fingers through it doing little to straighten the mess and even less to pinch her taut nerves.

Swearing under her breath in an almost inaudible whisper, Ben resisted the urge to peer through the tether that kept them connected, if only to gouge how she was feeling-what she was thinking. Kylo Ren may have been privy to peering into the deepest and darkest parts of her mind, but Ben found himself hesitant about invading her personal thoughts. He'd ask her to tell him things, he'd say please, he'd wait, only because he wasn't Kylo Ren, or at least he was damn determined not to be.

The ship lurching brought both of their focus back, the automatic controls flashing warning symbols and demanding adjustments, shuddering as it careened unsteadily into the world's atmosphere. Its rusted structure screeched, the outer shell groaned, and a variety of other sounds he was sure that he shouldn't be hearing were all sounds he actually heard.

His lightsaber tumbled from his hand, rolling underneath the seat before he could grasp for it. The deserted earth of Crait filled the viewport, a mess of dirt and rock that seemed to stretch on as far as the eye could see-full of nothing. No amount of gunfire or disturbances from the First Order and the Resistance alike seemed to change it.

Rey had leaned down to fumble for the saber as it knocked into her ankle, her free hand flipping switches and tugging a helmet onto her head to request docking. Ben didn't know if anyone was on the other line, hearing nothing but white static, but the chime of their approval came with the silence of the comms. Despite there being no physical answer, perhaps the abundance of docking Resistance ships left them confident against any hostiles that could possibly land.

Oh, if they only knew…

"Hey," Rey addressed him, turning to extend the Skywalker saber to him, no hesitation in the gesture as she waved it directly in front of his face. "We're almost there."

At least the blade emitter was turned away from him.

He retrieved it with a slow nod, the saber feeling at home in his hands. It belonged to his uncle, severed in half, reconstructed and serving him in the battle against Darth Sidious; it had certainly been through a journey all on its own. He'd called to it and without hesitation it had answered.

He turned it over in his hands. His thumb ran over the hilt, the activation lever, and the safety.

It wasn't his Crossguard-may it rest forever at the bottom of the ocean-hadn't slaughtered innocent lives, threatened Rey and the Resistance at every turn, rather it had done only good, only to protect.

Kylo Ren was dead, but Ben Solo was still very much here.

As Rey smiled, the back of his skull collided again with another hard jerk that questioned the ship's stability. With a soft hiss, he rubbed the agitated area. He may have just glared at Rey, if he hadn't noticed where they were. The resistance base, back at Rey's home and likely also where his brief journey would come to an unsatisfying end-despite the many times it likely should have already.

Their ship tumbled towards Crait, puncturing the atmosphere and wracking the entirety of the rusted structure. The instability of the ship was made more prominent now, Rey gritting her teeth as she focused on correcting the diagnostics, the pressure slow to equalize.

Finally, the vastness of space gave way to clouds, the ship groaning as warning signs flashed, the landing systems failing underneath of the X-Wing. The resistance base jutted into view, Rey voicing a warning he could scarcely hear through the adrenaline roaring in his ears while he clung to the seat, his nails digging into the material. Ship trembling, it sputtered as the landing base became visible through the cloud of dust, apparent by its scorched earth and solidly packed soil and… certain to make their landing much more difficult than originally anticipated.

X-Wing reluctant to slow, it dipped lower and lower, stone screeching against metal, rocks and debris banging against the underneath. Suddenly, he was very thankful for his companion's skill as a pilot, the starfighter grounding without tumbling and inevitably tearing the base to shreds…

That would no doubt assist in smoothing things over with the resistance…

It landed mostly intact, albeit rendering the landing strip almost unrecognizable, the X-Wing's engine falling silent, a chorus of popping and hissing took its place. Truthfully, it had been a miracle the ship had even brought them that far, but Ben didn't hope for any salvagability.

As the dust settled, Rey took a moment to catch her breath, and Ben pried his fingers from the seat, the cockpit's cover rising and spilling sunlight and fresh air into the ship. She'd thrown the helmet from her head somewhere onto the ground below, turning to glance at Ben with a sheepish smile as if she hadn't just nearly wrecked his uncle's fighter and killed them both.

"We're here." She announced.

Ben finally breathed, exhaling the air that had caught in his throat as he noted the state of his companion. Clothing filthy, covered in the evidence of their time at Exogol where he'd brought her back from the brink of death, the sunlight filtering through the open hatch and touching her soft brown hair-sticking up in all manners of directions and was covered with sediment. The tear stains on her face gave away the fact that she'd been crying.

Ben's first thought was that she was beautiful. A crazy thought, alarmingly hysterical and hitting him with the same show of force that he used to squeeze out of the cockpit and hit the ground with a slight stumble. Finally being able to stretch his legs despite his injuries earned a soft hum of content in turn and he stretched his arms skyward, ignoring the aching sensation in his ribs, his saber hanging on his belt.

He pushed any intrusive thoughts out of his head for the time being.

From behind him, smoke poured from the ship's engine as one single metal plate tumbled across the ground at his feet. "I'll have to compliment your flying." He remarked, turning to hold out his hand and assist her out of the cockpit. "I thought it'd crash and burn somewhere in Exogol. Never dreamt we'd make it this far."

Rey glared-playful-as she accepted the gesture and leaped to the ground at his side.

Ahead, the majority of the resistance still had yet to arrive, but they were coming, small splotches in the distance arriving in the dozens… The hundreds. Ben focused on his initial bearings, squinting against the light as he turned his gaze up toward the sky.

He felt an undeniable sense of calm, even with the anxiety that tugged the inside of his chest with the inevitability of having to face the resistance, enveloping itself into the pit at the bottom of his stomach. Their approval was already something he knew he would not have, and even with their hero's gentle persuasion, he seriously doubted they could be swayed enough to allow him among their ranks.

If the roles were reversed, he may have just felt the same way.

"Are you ready to go?" He asked, voice barely above a whisper. A sense of dread filled him to his very core, hopelessness an ever prominent feeling burning a hole in his heart.

But at least he was facing it with Rey. Together.

Rey had turned her eyes skyward, the apprehension practically rolling off of her in waves. She watched the resistance fleet breaking through the atmosphere, faint pulsations of light arriving to whatever inevitable fate remained in store for them.

All at once, she tore her gaze from the sky to focus on him instead. She held out her hand in such a familiar gesture-one that he had extended to her many times before-except now it was him taking it, a nervous tremble passing through his deft fingers by the second, seizing her hand into his own.

Together.

"No," She replied smiling. Dry and a little wan, but nonetheless it was there. "But things are going to be okay. They have to be."


"Are you insane?! Did you hit your head while you were down there in the caves? Did falling debris knock your common sense out of you?" Their initial confrontation had gone over smoothly to say the least. Poe hadn't thrown as heavy a tantrum as was originally expected and because of that, Ben was able to restrain himself at Rey's shoulder.

He hadn't force choked anyone yet. Normally, it was Hux who proved to be notorious for getting on his nerves. Listening to Poe, he believed he'd found a close second.

That was an improvement on his part.

Their first few minutes had been spent waiting for the resistance ships to land. They had stood there, fingers intertwined, the bond that still felt like a foreign concept to him was tugging both demanding and content at the same time. It was familiar, and he grasped that familiarity as he stood in the unknown while they discussed his fate right in front of him.

It felt like lifetimes that Ben didn't have. Each excited fighter had tumbled from their ships with cheers of celebration and countless announcements that they had won. They had finally won.

And Ren had lost.

The disgust at his presence had been obvious, confused and incredulous faces staring at him with looks of contempt. Of disgust. All he had managed to do was remind himself of where his only comfort stood. That familiar touch, one so inviting and warm and one that preceded his caution-one that for the moment he hadn't any intentions of letting go of.

Apprehension tugged at his heart, cautious in case the resistance leaders would react too harshly to his arrival. His fingers twitched at his side, but Rey's reassurance passed through the thread between them, the light reaching through the darkness that was still an ever present part of his being, and it was enough to still his pounding heart. He met everyone's judgmental gazes without batting an eye of his own.

"What?" Rey asked incredulously. "What, no. I told you that I died, right? And then Ben-" A crowd of resistance fighters widened around them, giving them the space they would need to express the obvious issue at hand. Him. Some scrambled to seem busy, but he could feel their disturbed and curious minds working, expressing silent opinions on the matter, and each one was either condemning him to a life in exile or shooting him down right then.

He couldn't decide which one sounded more appealing.

"I heard it." Poe had interrupted. "And honestly, it just makes you sound crazier." His voice was sharp, cutting through the space between them like a sharp stone. "Are you even hearing yourself right now?" Eyebrow raised, he faced her beside his co-general with a look of befuddlement, hands perched on his hips as he struggled to understand so simple a concept.

Simple to Ben anyway.

Rey had died, and then she hadn't and now they were both here except Ben wasn't Kylo and Kylo wasn't Ben. Of course that made sense. It just sounded more convincing inside of his head.

It was Finn who wedged himself between the pair, Rey's irritation at having to continuously explain becoming more apparent as moments passed between the group. He held out his arms, palms facing upward as if to create some sort of makeshift barrier between two glares locked together in a heated show of dominance, neither backing down, neither admitting defeat. Rey had released his hand and stepped forward to further influence that.

In the end, rank had won and she turned to Finn as he took to his companion's side, gaze turned on Rey as if voicing a silent plea that begged her to somehow for whatever reason be joking. "Alright, let's all just stop and take a minute. This isn't the place, and not really the time." He reasoned, giving Ben a quick once over from where he stood just behind Rey's shoulder, lowering his voice. "If he's controlling you, just twitch or blink or something."

Ben snorted. Rey had laughed, but not with any sort of genuine amusement, more so a disbelief that they would go so far as to even suggest he had any sort of control over her. That it wasn't the other way around. "How could he be controlling me, Finn?" She raised her eyebrows, bobbing her head as if attempting to pull out some sort of answer.

He didn't take the bait.

Poe worked a tick underneath a rigid jawline, shaking his head before turning his helpless gaze to Finn. "I don't buy it."

"We need to think about all of this." Finn added on more gently. "Poe and I will talk about it, and then we'll regroup."

All individuals nodded in unison, Finn's tense form relaxing all at once in some form of relief, however minute it seemed to be.

Rey, although visibly irked by the situation, acknowledged Poe with her next request. "Permission to use the bacta tank, general?" There was a jab within the words as she acknowledged her friend, and by the subtle nod that hid a slight grimace, he had noticed it too.

"Yeah." Poe exhaled a puff of air through his nose. "Yeah, we'll talk later. After inspections." He'd decided. As abruptly as it began, the conversation ended. Poe cast one glare Ben's way and wandered off toward the bustle of chaos at their backs, shouting orders and melting into his general persona seamlessly as he directed the resistance members to different duties. Finn was the only one left remaining, shifting his weight from one foot to the next as if he had more to say. He didn't, nodding dismissively to the two before he himself trailed after his co-general.

Then at last, Ben was finally acknowledged, Rey turning on her heels and maneuvering around him in the opposite direction. "Come on. Let's get your injuries looked at." She led him away from the clearing to the limestone cave that served as the main hub of the base. In the distance, smoke billowed into a large cloud mixing with the golden hue of the afternoon. The old X-Wing was burning, furthering his observation that it was beyond repair. Still, it had brought him home.

Even if he didn't consider home a place.

Resistance forces scrambled by, backpacking extinguishing tanks and rushing along with stoic expressions despite the victory that they had seized only hours before. Their excitement had died down, the static in the air giving way to a heavy tension. Harsh words were exchanged, hushed whispers, but slowly they were finding their roles again.

He didn't remark at their gossip of how the coward Kylo Ren admitted his defeat and took up residency with the resistance fighters to preserve his own life. Hadn't spoken a word of the fact that he was not in fact Kylo Ren, but Ben Solo. The son of Leia Organa and Han Solo, the pupil to Luke Skywalker, who in the past had all of the right intentions before he had been brutally stabbed in the back.

No, they wouldn't remember that.

Seeing them in a light that didn't shine on a battlefield brought a twinge of regret nonetheless, a tug of sadness over the fact that they had seemed so normal, so together, even after he had shot so many of them down.

Truthfully, he didn't blame them for their hatred.

He was one being, but both at the same time.

The first order had never been in such unity. Everyone's place had been determined at their initial arrival, and they would never be more than the pawns that Kylo Ren, Snoke, and Palpatine had made them to be. Eventually, Kylo Ren had been on top, and despite that, the values of the First Order had never changed. They never would. Not that it mattered now.

"I told you that they wouldn't be happy to see me. They remember what Kylo Ren did; what I did." He spoke through the mutual silence filled with words that Ben couldn't find. Apologies rooted themselves in his heart, had attempted to flourish through his lips and to the resistance but it didn't come. In a way, he had written it off as a genuine disconcert whereas the resistance was concerned. It had never been his life, and it was the cause of his parent's disregard for him the majority of his childhood. The reason they had sent him away-more of a reason than being frightened of what he was capable of.

Once they had maneuvered themselves into the med bay, Ben set himself down on one of the medical beds, wincing at a harsh jab in his ribs. With a sharp intake of breath, one arm laid across his abdomen, the other resting in his lap, his hand curled into a fist. Sleep had nulled the pain somewhat, but now that he was awake and moving it was being inconsiderate in how quickly it returned, something that ushered a genuine frown to his otherwise conflicted expression, half torn in between lost and concerned.

Concern for what sort of fate awaited him, whether he would be cast out the galaxy to be alone. But Rey was home, a fact he had taken into consideration, and with that being his purpose, if being alone in the deepest parts of the galaxy to atone for what he'd done was a fate that awaited him, he would take it. Only if she could live the life she should have in the first place. Something more peaceful than what she had been given.

Rey walked down the various series of cots and the singular bacta tank before coming to a stop at his side. Privacy dividers offered little in the way of concealing much in the small corner room in the cavern, but it was at least something. A droid rolled up to him with a series of whirring and beeps while it assessed him, but it was Rey who quickly became the subject of his attention when she finally answered his earlier sentiment. "I never expected them to be happy," Rey murmured with a sense of hopelessness. "I guess… I just wanted them to listen at the very least. Maybe even accept what had come to pass." She swallowed, breathing in to ground herself.

Ben tried not to scoff at her belief. That the resistance would listen to something beyond their understanding. Nobody-aside from maybe one or two individuals-would ever believe Kylo Ren could be more than what the dark side made him out to be. The criticism wasn't something that he would throw in her face, nodding instead, offering a meager: "Maybe" in conjunction with his gaze on the dividers as he attempted not to fidget.

The droid hummed as it assessed his condition and spun on its wheel to peer up at Rey, whistling inquiringly at her. She shook her head decisively. "I'm fine." She dismissed it.

It hummed a finality, chirping as it wheeled itself behind one of the dividers where it brought back a package of underclothes for the bacta tank. The tank itself hummed as it powered on, and without missing a beat, Ben took the clothes into his hands. With one quick look to Rey-who stood idly by watching him with a look of passiveness-he waited.

Once his eyebrows raised, she seemed to put the two together, a soft pink dusting her cheeks and running up her neck. It ushered a soft whistle from the droid, and she hissed a terse "I'm fine" underneath her breath as it made a dismissive gesture with a retractable arm. "Right, well I will grab you some new clothes and when you're finished, I will be just out here." Rey gestured to the privacy dividers and stepped out.

Behind Ben, the tank began its process of filling with the bacta fluid, beeping once it was full.

Even through the divider, he could still feel as she did. Through their dyad, he could feel that anxiety, the jump in her pulse, the gentle irritation that released into an alarming sense of calm. That gentle presence kept him at ease. Enough to strip into… whatever it was the droid had given him.

Removing his all black clothing, he changed into the other garments and sunk into the tank, laying back as the water enveloped him in its welcoming embrace, soothing his aching muscles, healing his wounds from the battle and washing away the dirt, the grime, the ash, and the blood. It almost brought him a bittersweet form of release, washing away any worries or anxieties that felt overbearing to him then.

Except it wasn't enough. Laying there in the dark forced him to think, to focus on the events of the past few months. Hell, even all of his memories of Ben Solo that had been so easily shoved to the back of his head and blocked as the legacy of Kylo Ren took him over instead. Rey had been the one to bring those back, remind him of his identity, only because that loss was something he had felt in her too.

His thoughts were clouded, and feeling her own uncertainty in the situation didn't grant him any sort of reprieve. But she tried, offering him a comfort that he desired, that he grabbed through their dyad and held close to his heart. It allowed him to breathe, to clear his mind and remind him that he was here and they were both fine. Kylo Ren was not Ben Solo, and he would try, by the force he would try to not succumb to the same temptations as before.

It had been at least half an hour before Ben pulled himself from the tank again. Soaked and dripping water, dark locks clung to his face, the garments clinging to his well muscled frame as he retrieved the clothes that Rey had set out for him. It wasn't black, but instead a standard issue of what the pilots and techs typically wore beneath their jumpsuits. An appalling green. He grimaced, but surely it would serve its purpose until he could acquire something more fitting.

Pulling them on, Ben walked out to Rey on the other side of the divider, finding her squatting there. Everyone was looking now as they passed by. Not just at him, but both of them. No doubt she'd also likely be the subject of their malice for bringing him home. Not that anyone would dare voice a protest to the individual that had won them the war. The only question was how. The same question lingered inside every one of their minds, each one curious for answers Rey hadn't given.

"I could help you explain to them when the time comes." Ben offered. "I'm just not sure how reluctant they will be to hear what I have to say." Only because he could feel their aggression, piling like one suffocating cloud through the emerald cave. It tugged him every which way, urging him to take a step closer to Rey. "That is unless the decision to exile me is final."

Rey stirred at his approach, laying her eyes on him again. He felt a sense of comfort settle over her even if he hadn't been away for that long. Something had changed between them, besides that tension that never seemed to leave, he didn't feel that bottomless depth of anger and spite when he looked at her. That rage didn't entrap him, lulled with regret. Too much of it.

Her cheeks once again flushed pink, and she quickly backtracked, taking his hand in her own and heaved herself to her feet. "They will need both of our official debriefings of the situation anyway." She shrugged, reaching up to take a damp tendril of hair that had snaked its way across his forehead, and tucked it to frame his face instead. Eyes lingering on his now unmarred face. The crude scar had been a permanent memory of how Kylo Ren had earned it. Now that it was gone, it strangely lifted a weight from his shoulders. It hadn't been meant for Ben anyway.

All at once, a sudden weight at Rey's heels caused her to stumble forward, catching herself against him as BB-8 barrelled into her with a chorus of chirping and whistles. Rey let out a noise as equally excited while she righted herself, turning to kneel and affectionately acknowledge the droid by checking its antenna. "I am happy to see you too, BB-8! Oh, no.. N-No, Ben is okay." She attempted to console the droid as it swiveled nervously back and forth with wary head turns his way.

BB-8 hummed once again which elicited a hesitant nod from Rey. The droid started off, its spherical body leading them onward down the winding hallways. "Looks like Poe wishes to see us already." She extended her hand to him once again-a gesture that felt alarmingly natural, even in such a brief amount of time. "But no matter what they decide. Wherever you go, I will go." She set her jaw with conviction, proving the sentiment wasn't one to be argued with.

Not arguing seemed like a good idea.