Nervously, Ben gnaws at his cuticles, his knee bouncing as he sits behind Chewie in the Falcon's cockpit. The stars drift by as they lazily orbit some gas giant, marking time until whatever ship his mother has ordered up for them arrives. A team of Resistance techs have already taken possession of Snoke's escape craft, so there's nothing left to occupy him while he waits for Rey. Because she's with his mother. Having tea.

Tea!

The idea of sharing her with anyone hadn't really occurred to him before, and now that it has, he detests it. Somewhere on the Falcon his mother has Rey sequestered away so that they could,"Get to know each other better." What about him? Shouldn't he get to know more about her first? Maybe he should go find them … they wouldn't min—

"Kid, if you don't stop fidgeting like a 4-year-old, I'm gonna lose my concentration," his father grumbles from the pilot's seat. Han's engrossed in a data pad, and, normally—or what once would have been normal—Ben's curiosity to find out what has his attention would have him trying to get a look. Catching Han Solo reading the latest Galactic Passion had always been worth his patient sneaking.

Of course, he could begin the conversation he knows he needs to have with his dad, but he's too raw. Besides, isn't it up to the parent to reach out in these sorts of situations?

Scrubbing his face with his hands, a heavy, self-pitying sigh accompanies slouching back into the cramped seat. The Falcon hadn't exactly been designed with passenger comfort in mind.

The loud clack of his father's datapad hitting the console pulls Ben's attention back to Han.

"Your mom isn't gonna eat her! You're acting like a mooning teenager," Han grouses as he looks over at Ben. Something about the dismissiveness of his father's tone goes right up his nose, so he scoffs derisively. It's not like his dad had been around enough at that age for him to even know what he was like.

An annoyed look pulls Han's brows together, sparking memory after memory of his father's short temper and non-existent patience. But then his face softens as he uses an almost pleading tone, one he's never heard from his father before. "Son … I know you—that Rey … that …" Then he looks away, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly searching for what he wants to say. "This was always your mother's area," he mutters.

Ben is so done looking back, poring over every failure, his and his family's. Because his dad's right. He probably is acting childish. Rey's the first, the only person to consume him completely just by breathing. She's his first love. First … everything.

He wants to talk to his dad, not let the thick wall of fear and doubt stop him the way it always used to.

Sitting forward, he takes control of the conversation. "Did Mom make you nervous? Make you question every little thing you said or did?" Ben asks with a hint of desperation.

"Hell, she still does," Han quips.

"Really?" he asks with apprehension. Will Rey always have him on his knees like this?

Shaking his head, his dad answers, "Nah, not really. Right now … yeah, she does, but that's only 'cause she's makin' me work for it." The wide grin on his face makes it clear Han likes the dance.

He wants to feel optimistic and light-hearted like his father, but then he sees the edge of real pain in his eyes. In that moment he's certain his parents have been truly estranged. "You and Mom … what happened?"

Chewie, who hasn't involved himself in the conversation until now, howls, 'Han stupid. Stupid, stupid human.'

"Hey!" Han complains. "It wasn't just me you know, Leia wasn't exactly at her best, either."

The loyal old wookiee doesn't bother to growl another word, just looks at his best friend keenly. Not seeing whatever he was hoping for from Han, Chewie shakes his head and huffs something Ben doesn't understand. For a moment, his massive frame seems to fill the whole cockpit as he bumps his way into the corridor, shoving Han's shoulder and temporarily blinding Ben with his shaggy fur.

When Chewie has disappeared from sight, he makes one final contribution.

'Idiot.'

Stiffly, Han turns back towards the viewscreen, grabs his datapad, and stares at it intently—even if Ben's pretty sure his dad isn't taking in a bit of what's on the screen.

He regards his father for a long time, or the back of his head at least. The last time he'd spent any time with him he'd been too young to question his dad. He'd still seemed larger than life, easy-going and so confident. Ben had known that he could never be even remotely as self-possessed as the great Han Solo.

But he sees him through adult eyes, now. Eyes that have seen far too much. Hands that have done far too much. It's hard to miss the insecurity tugging at all that arrogance, not when he sees it in the mirror every day.

Ben moves to the co-pilot's chair and clears his throat before asking, "What're you working on?"

What are you hiding in?

Still keeping his eyes on the datapad, he answers shortly, "Star chart."

"Of?" Ben presses. This familiar old tactic won't work on him, not anymore.

With his jaw working, Han says, "Kessel Run."

"Uh … Mom'll find a rancor just for you if you're running spice again."

For a moment, his dad tenses, then his shoulders fall in defeat as he tosses the datapad aside again. Slowly, he turns towards Ben. "Just tryin' to shave another parsec off my record." He lets out a long, anguished breath. "Look, Kid, I shouldn't be ignoring you. I know we got lots to talk about, and I wanna, I do."

"But …?" Ben makes a questioning face and lifts his eyebrows. A dark look of frustration clouds his father's eyes.

"I don't know what to say!" Han eventually bursts out. There's just too much flitting along his father's face for Ben to discern much and he'd always been maddeningly difficult to read through the Force.

Ben waits.

Eventually, Han swallows and his hands clutch his knees before he says, "Everything went to hell when you left. Your mom was a mess, I was a mess. Luke left …" His eyes grow hollow with shame and he admits lowly, "Wasn't long before I left, too."

The thought of his parents not even having each other makes his chest ache. Before he'd pushed his family so far down, soaking it through with the inky blackness of the dark side, he could find wisps of succor at the idea his parents would be happier with just the two of them.

More of their battles had been because of him than not; by the time Luke took him away, it was all they fought about. Late at night, when Snoke didn't pay such close attention to his thoughts, Ben would remember the holo of their wedding, the way they'd looked at each other.

Even after he was completely consumed by Snoke, in the space between sleep and waking, he'd wonder what it would feel like to love someone like that.

Recently, there were hints in the intelligence logs that Han Solo hadn't been seen in the core in some time. He'd thought they might have separated before he'd mercilessly buried the unbidden idea—he never should have spared even a thought for anything but his training or the First Order.

It had been years … years that his parents had stumbled along alone. And he's the fault line that fractured them apart. Will he ever find the end of all he has wrought?

Unmoored in the bleakness this awareness has summoned, he startles when warmth begins to grow at his sternum until he's cocooned in peace. Rey … she must have sensed his turmoil. The jangling anxiety that's held him prisoner since his mother had led her away ebbs from his limbs. Because there's a person who thinks of him, sees him. Comforts him. Now he does know what it's like to love someone. The novelty of it brings the slightest of smiles to his face.

One his father notices immediately. "What's that smirk for?" he asks suspiciously.

"It's nothing to do with you, or Mom," Ben assures his dad.

Quiet settles between them, an easy silence now that Rey has recentered him. It gives Ben the space to think, the time to wonder what else might have happened with his parents.

Tilting his head, he asks, "When did you last come home?"

Han looks down at the decking and Ben has the queerest feeling that his father, not him, is the errant boy who ran away.

"Well …" He clears his throat before continuing. "I kept … tryin'. Orbited Hosnian Prime for a whole week, once. Chewie threatened to comm her himself if I didn't get on with it."

Nodding, Ben says, "But you left, instead."

"Yeah."

Seeing this much vulnerability from his father is … unsettling. The man in front of him has obviously been hauling his broken heart from system to system since Ben hadn't had the strength to face their rejection one more time.

"What brought you back?" While it's apparent that his father came home because of him, Ben still needs to hear it.

Han looks up, his eyes drowning in regret. "You, of course." He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the galaxy. "Leia contacted me just as soon as she heard from you. I wish I'da done it a whole lot sooner. She … your mom always did deserve better than me," he says gruffly. Bitterly.

"And don't you forget it!" Leia's crisp voice rings from just outside the cockpit, making his dad grimace. However, when his mother appears, her eyes are glassy and a tendril of her feelings escape her shields.

So much suffering … an image of his mother's hand hovering over her comm before pulling back crystalizes in his mind's eye. So, she'd been unable to reach out, either.

Then the sun breaks across the horizon when Rey wraps her arms around his neck and peppers his cheek with sweet kisses. He'd been too focused on the situation with his parents to sense her approach.

"Sweetheart," Ben murmurs as he turns towards the center of his gravity. Dimly, he wonders if he shouldn't, already pulling her into his lap. She lands with a ring of laughter and her wide, joyful smile makes his breath catch.

He's just about to kiss her silly when he hears a good natured, "Ahem." Peering up, he finds his mom's amused face. But not that amused he realizes as her eyebrows lift with a touch of admonishment.

Yeah, alright. He probably shouldn't maul Rey right here in front of his parents, even if he does owe them for a few truly scarring moments from his childhood.

But Ben does keep her in his lap.

"Is that the new L-class?" Rey exclaims excitedly, watching the sleek silver hull of the Nubian craft his mother had managed to organize for them. Chewie hasn't returned to the cockpit, so Ben's still playing co-pilot. When Rey had leapt to her feet to get a better look at the incoming ship, it had surprised him how difficult it had been for him to keep himself from snatching her back.

Ben's pretty sure that if she could reach over the Falcon's control panel, her face would be pressed against the viewport.

He begins to answer her eager question, but his father is quicker. "Sure is! My princess has connections," Han boasts.

His mother, standing behind Han, her hands lightly clutching his shoulders, scoffs and says, "Oh, stop it." Leia turns slightly towards Rey but doesn't release Han. "You'll actually be doing a favor for Naboo's royal court; they needed someone to deliver their latest sentry ship. This really was the best possible choice."

When he sees Leia's expression of smug innocence, Ben can almost hear his Uncle Lando remind him to never play sabacc with either of his parents. Of course, Lando cheats, so he never knew who that advice had really been intended for.

While Rey's transfixed by the luminous silver cruiser drifting beside the decrepit Millenium Falcon, Ben gives his mother a very pointed look. Really, mother? Did she have to throw their wealth and influence in Rey's face?

She appears to be handling it beautifully, but now that the shape of her deprivation is coming into focus, he doesn't want to give her any reason to wonder if he's flaunting his privilege. Or—even worse—give her the slightest impression that he's attempting to pay for her affection, physical or otherwise.

It would be so easy for her to misunderstand, fear that he's trying to buy her in some fashion. Even a hint of bargaining could send her spinning into that place where everything is reduced to power, punishment … payment.

And yet, Rey deserves to be wrapped in softness, anything she wants fulfilled before it can ever become a need. He means to attend to any whim she has, satisfy all the dreams she hadn't dared to form when barely surviving.

While he's worrying at his predicament, he almost chokes on his own tongue when his mother leans over and whispers, "Just trying to help—I want grandbabies someday," in his ear.

The suggestion renders him utterly frozen, blinking unseeing eyes while Rey throws out a barrage of questions about Naboo. Leia patiently answers her, which is good, because Ben is still incapable of speech.

Entirely centered on Rey, the fresh, open wounds still bleeding through her psyche, and the wreckage he's made of his life hadn't allowed much space for long-term planning.

His father nudges his shoulder, grounding him back in reality. "Surrender now. Easier that way."

The look of glee on Han's face confirms Ben's suspicion that his dad is thrilled he's no longer Leia's only target.

That Rey has missed all of this while her eyes haven't left the admittedly gorgeous ship causes him to—once again—wonder if the Skywalkers are blessed or cursed by the Force. Then his complicated musings all fade into the background when she turns on her heel and nearly throws herself into his arms.

"Ben! Oh, Ben! Ever since I found the simulator data spike for the J-Type, I've dreamed of seeing any of Nubia's ships, never mind getting to travel in one!"

He can't remember ever having so much unreserved enthusiasm for anything. Even his feelings for Rey—his guilt and self-doubt always manage to mar the shining purity of her smile. Watching the delight sparkle in her eyes gives him an idea that almost makes him forgive his mother for her blatant meddling. This is just too good of an opportunity to miss.

"Would you like to fly her?" he rumbles with a wry grin.

The way Rey's eyes burn makes him vow to inspire that same look of undisguised lust someday when they're alone. Just the idea of her craving him like she appears to desire this ship has him looking away from her swiftly—she already has him existing on the tipping point. The last thing he needs is another seductive image of Rey lodged in his mind, beckoning him to cast all caution or care to the wind.

"No," Ben declares firmly. Leia has pulled him into the corridor just outside of the Falcon's cockpit while Han communicates docking procedures to their transport to Naboo.

"I know he has no right to even ask, but I've spoken with my brother," his mother states with a pleading tone. "I think … I think he's beginning to truly see how wrong he was."

He scoffs loudly before sneering, "He's had years to figure that out all on his own."

The way Leia's expression falters forces Ben to breathe in deeply and try once again to listen. Eventually, he feels the tension leave his face and the hope in his mother's eyes sparks a touch of warmth in his gaze.

"Luke … he's never been very good at shades of gray." Curiously, she wraps her arms around herself, a clear act of protection. Her eyes drop down to stare at the decking while Ben searches his memory for any clues about why she's suddenly become withdrawn. Quietly, she finally says, "He … he never could understand why I can't forgive our … father."

There'd never been the opportunity to talk to her about how she was forced to reveal her relationship to Darth Vader on the senate floor. Yes, it had shocked him, but Skywalker had visited his hut that very night, trailing through his sleeping mind and misunderstanding everything. A sharp spike of shame pricks at him at the realization that he'd never given a single thought to what it must have done to his mother to discover that her own father had snuffed out her family, her people, her safety while forcing her to watch.

A fierce wave of protectiveness crashes over him and all he can ask is, "Then how can you forgive him?"

She shrugs and makes an oddly fond smile. "Because he's my brother."

Gods, he just wants to snarl and hiss, rage against his uncle for setting him on his corrupt path. But his mother's warm brown eyes stop the recriminations in his throat. She's … she's faced enough, bested enough.

Perhaps that's where her strength lies. Leia has always focused on the people she can save, not balancing the scales. Rey, too, he realizes. She also doesn't seem to crave vengeance, honor, not the way Ben does.

"Alright, alright." Ben huffs out a frustrated sigh. "I'm not ready to be alone with him, but I won't try anything if he wants to see us off … or whatever."

When they gather below the narrow point of connection between the two ships, Ben only flinches a little bit when he sees Luke.

Rey bounces on the balls of her feet, vibrating with an almost manic anticipation as his parents engulf the two of them in solid, dependable arms. He's not sure—his memories of childhood aren't always the clearest—but the way his parents surround them doesn't feel tenuous and confusing the way saying goodbye used to.

Briefly, Ben catches Luke's gaze, or his old master catches his. It's hard to say and it doesn't really matter because it doesn't enrage him the way he'd anticipated. For the first time, Ben sees how drained, how defeated Luke Skywalker looks and it doesn't make as much sense to hate him as he once did.

Rey escapes his attempt to help her up the ladder to their—temporarily—new ship, scrambling out of sight as soon as Leia kisses her cheek in farewell.

Most of him wants to catch up with her, get underway as soon as possible. Once they're in hyperspace, they'll have three whole hours completely alone and he has plans. But halfway up to the hatch Ben turns and looks down on his mom and dad, a pleasant, wistful feeling tightening his chest when he sees how Han holds his wife so close.

"Don't do anything I would do, Kid!" his dad calls out.

"What your father said," his mom echoes.

He surprises himself when he again looks over at Luke, who's lurking along the bulkhead. For a reason he can't discern, he purposefully catches the old Jedi's gaze, holding it steadily. Things between them are far from settled, but perhaps, one day … they could be.

Blinking in confusion, Luke hesitates before he finally nods in acknowledgement.

Ben resumes his ascent to the future, to Rey, safe in the knowledge that he's the one making the choice to leave.

And that he'll be welcomed home when he decides to come back.

A/N: Thank you, ArtemisBare! You were 100% correct about the last bit and I hope you'll like the change. *blows you kisses*

Thank you, Readers! This one was a bit of a bridge chapter to get them to Naboo. I'm stupid excited to write the next bit. I'll get to dig into a big ole bowl of fluff with a lovely drizzle of angst to bring out the flavor. Thank you for still reading. I know I've been much more sporadic with this one, and I'm so grateful that folks continue to follow this story.