Rey's perspective

Rey awoke with a start.

She didn't know how to describe the feeling that overwhelmed her, other than the sense that something was off. Dangerously off. Like a thread had been stretched tight, but if it snapped, worlds would implode.

She swung her legs over the side of her cot and scrubbed her hands over her face, trying to wake up enough to think clearly. What would've woken her from a dead sleep like that?

It hit her with the impact of the ice-cold waterfall on Ahch-To.

Ben.

She reached out through the Force, feeling for the bond, but she only found the faintest flicker. He was very far away.

Stumbling across her dark room, she shoved through the door and hastened down the empty corridor, toward where she knew Ben's room to be. Even if he was upset with her, she had to at least check and make sure she was wrong, make sure he was okay…

She arrived at his door and knocked. When there was no answer, she knocked more forcefully. Finally, she placed her hand upon the cool metal and convinced the mechanisms to hiss open.

But when she stepped inside, the room was empty. There was an indentation in the middle of the bed, where someone had once lain, but the blanket was cold. Looking around, everything seemed to be in its place—

Except his lightsaber was missing.

Her heart clenched in her chest. Reaching out once more through the Force, she searched for his signature, desperately trying to decipher where he was. But there was only a very dim light where normally there was a bright, fiery warmth. He was very far away. Not in this system, and perhaps not even in this region of the galaxy anymore.

A sick feeling settled in her stomach.

The darkness that had surrounded him.

That Dark stain doesn't wash out.

I brought you back and I died instead, because I am a monster and you deserved to live.

He was going to kill Palpatine. On his own. Like an idiot.

Running back to her room, she grabbed her lightsaber and staff, then bolted for the hangar. She didn't know how long he'd been gone, but he already had too much of a head start.

With no time to spare, she headed for the ship she knew best. "Sorry, Han," she muttered as she started the Falcon's pre-flight sequences. She fired up the engines and lifted off. Trusting that Chewie's latest maintenance work would hold, she left the hangar and ramped up the thrusters. The Falcon rocketed up through the atmosphere.

When she hit space, she closed her eyes and reached out once again. She had no idea where Exegol was, other than somewhere in the Unknown Regions, but she could still feel Ben's faint presence, and used it like the needle of an ancient compass to point the way. Approximating his location, she put in the coordinates and slammed the hyperdrive switch home.

…

When she came out of the final stretch of space, she knew at once that the small planet ahead was the right one. Ben's signature, while darker than normal, was much stronger here.

Exegol.

She brought the Falcon through the weak atmosphere and followed her feelings to land on a small spit of rock. She spotted a small vessel a short distance away, and recognized it as one of the Resistance transports.

She shivered when she stepped off the ramp onto the planet's surface. The unforgiving place was creepy and cold. There wasn't another living thing anywhere nearby, and the few signatures she picked up several klicks away felt decidedly unfriendly.

Up ahead, an eerie, fortress-like structure rose straight up into the sky, floating just above the ground. That had to be where Ben had gone. Gripping the hilt of her saber in a white-knuckled fist, Rey approached the structure.

A hole in the ground beneath the structure opened into a subterranean maw. A mammoth chain was anchored into the rocky base and descended into the depths; the thick links were as big as adult humans. Clipping the lightsaber back on her belt, Rey summoned her years of experience climbing around in the crashed Imperial ships on Jakku. With a centering breath, she jumped off the edge, dropping through the air to collide with the chain. Cutting off a grunt of pain, she held onto the chain for dear life and carefully began to climb down.

Leaping the last few feet to the ground, she ignited her lightsaber and took in the vast space around her. Outside of the immediate vicinity of her glowing blue saber, the place was pitch black. The stagnant, musty air reeked of darkness and death. Holding her saber out before her, she ventured further into the dark.

The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she made her way through the soaring, rough-hewn corridor. She had the uncomfortable feeling that something was watching her from the shadows, but try as she might, she couldn't locate the elusive source. Following the feel of Ben's signature, she continued through the massive fortress.

When she rounded a corner, she bit back a gasp.

Piping and machines hung from the ceiling, feeding into huge tanks of mysterious fluid. The tanks stood around the room, backlit by dim orange illumination. Alien figures floated within them. They were still as death, but every so often, one would give an unnatural twitch. Digital panels listed readouts of scans on the creatures' vitals and… did that say it was a growth report?

Was this Palpatine's cloning lab?

She swallowed back bile, and quickly made her way through the room. This place was a nightmare come to life.

As her eyes once again adjusted to the dark, she thought she saw a figure up ahead in the corridor. She reflexively jerked back into the shadows, a scream building in her chest, but then she realized it was heading away from her. Moreover, she recognized it. The familiar towering height, the breadth of the slightly-hunched shoulders, the slimness of the long legs…

Ben.

Seemingly unaware of her presence, he moved slowly away from her, favoring one side as he staggered down the corridor. His saber hilt was held loosely in one hand.

"Ben," she whispered, a mix of relief and fear coursing through her. Then louder, "Ben!"

He stopped mid-step and slowly turned. His face was a shuttered, expressionless mask, registering only mild surprise at her presence.

She could've cried at the sight of him. Momentarily forgetting her apprehension, she ran the rest of the way down the corridor, stopping just shy of launching into his arms. This close, she could see that his skin was ashen and his eyes were sunken and dull. He looked like death warmed over.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. His voice was a mere shadow of its normally warm, deep tone.

"I'm taking you home."

His eyes roamed over her head to take in the corridor behind her, and he shook his head. "No. I'm not going home."

He turned away from her and made to continue walking, but she grabbed his arm and spun him back to her. "I won't let you do this!" she cried tremulously. "I know what you're doing, and I won't let you do it. Please. Please don't do this, Ben."*

At her words, something flashed through his eyes. Recognition. Pain. He stopped trying to pull away. "Why not?" he countered in a small voice. "I know what I have to do. I'm the only one who can do it. If I do this, it'll buy some time. It'll save countless lives. Your life."

She caught the meaning behind his words, and didn't like it one bit. "I don't want a life without you in it," she whispered, holding his gaze, entreating him to believe her.

He jerked his arm out of her grasp. "That's enough," he bit out. "You're making this harder than it needs to be. Go back."

"Ben, wait—"

"No. Go back, Rey." He stepped away from her.

"Ben—"

"Don't you understand?" he suddenly shouted, rounding on her as he violently threw his arms out to include himself, her, and the space around them. "I never wanted this!" He stared at her with wild eyes, lips trembling. "I never wanted any of this! I didn't ask to be tempted by the Dark Side. I didn't want to fight. I just wanted you. But… you deserve better." He held out an arm toward her, preventing her from coming any closer as his voice dropped. "At least let me do this."

"Ben, you don't understand—"

His face twisted into an agonized snarl. "Yes, I do!" he raged, the rough edges of his voice breaking on a sob as tears began to trail down his hollow cheeks. "For once in my life, I do." He ticked off on his fingers. "I've lied to you. I've frightened you. I've hurt you. You were right—I am a monster. Palpatine was the only one who ever—"

"Don't listen to Palpatine, he's lying to you!" Rey snarled, interrupting him and stepping up to thrust a finger into his chest. "He's been lying to you from the beginning, taking advantage of a little boy and fueling your insecurities and-and using your abilities for his own gain. Don't listen to him! You are not a monster. You are not Kylo Ren! You are Ben Solo, and I love you, and I am not giving you up without a fight!"

In the ringing silence that followed, he looked as if he'd been struck by lightning. He stood stock-still before her, lips parted and brow drawn together in disbelief as he stared down at her with wide brown eyes.

And then from behind them, Rey heard a deep, foreboding groan. Something was lurking in the darkness.

"Time to go," she murmured, and reached out to grasp his hand.

She dragged him along behind her, not giving him an option to stay as she led them back as quickly as she could. For all his earlier vehemence, he didn't put up much of a fight now, seemingly stunned into docile obedience. She didn't stop to think about it, and continued to pull him back out of the dark place.

They moved more slowly than she would've liked, and she genuinely worried for him on the way back. He was moving stiffly and sluggishly, with far less grace and far more difficulty than when they'd climbed through the Destroyer on Jakku. He looked ready to collapse at any moment, hugging his arm against his side as he limped along behind her. Halfway through the tank room his knees almost gave out, and she ducked beneath his good side to support him the rest of the way.

He was pale and panting by the time they reached the chain. Thankfully the block of stone they stood upon began to rise to the planet's surface, because she wasn't at all sure he would've been able to make the climb. When they crested the rim of the hole, Rey pulled him with her, not stopping until they were safely back inside the Falcon.

As the ramp closed behind them, Rey rushed through the corridor to the cockpit. Firing up the engines and switching on the controls, she plucked the comm from the console and radioed over to the small transport Ben had taken, instructing the droid to follow them home. The droid's beeping acquiescence sounded garbled through the comm.

Rey put her hand to the thrusters and lifted off. She couldn't get away from this miserable, frightening place fast enough. She checked the proximity readings as she ascended through the atmosphere, but no one appeared to be following them. She dearly hoped they weren't being tracked.

When she reached space, she directed the computer to take them back to Ajan Kloss and launched the freighter into hyperspace. The stars spread into streaks of light, and the Falcon rocketed away, leaving Exegol far behind.

With the immediate danger behind them, Rey slumped in the chair and let out a deep breath. She was getting really tired of these brushes with death, and if she never saw Exegol again, it would be too soon. However, what she wanted most in this moment was to see about Ben. She'd left him at the ramp when she'd run to the cockpit, and when she looked behind her, she realized he hadn't followed her any further than that.

She swallowed. Time to confront the rathar in the room.

She went back to the cabin to find Ben standing in the entryway, gripping the door frame with white-knuckled fists and shivering. She wanted to reach for him, but with everything that had happened between them recently, she feared he might bolt. Or rage. Or pass out, by the looks of him. But she had no idea what else to do, so she stood silently, watching him, waiting for a hint.

"Did you mean that?"

His rasping voice cut across the still air of the cabin. His wide, red-rimmed eyes flicked across the floor toward her, but didn't rise to meet her gaze. He was very pale, his bloodless lips drawn into a tight, downturned line. He awaited her response with the same posture as a prisoner awaiting sentencing.

"Yes," she murmured.

He let out an explosive breath, as if he'd been holding it for some time. His lower lip wobbled. He looked ready to fall apart.

"Ben? Come sit down. Please."

He looked at the dejarik table like he'd never seen it before. Slowly, he went and sat down.

She joined him. "Are you all right?" she asked, eyeing the way he was holding his arm against his side.

He nodded numbly. Automatically.

"No, you aren't." She took in his gauntness, the way his clothes hung off his frame, the patchy stubble along his jaw, the dark circles under his eyes. She recalled the stiff, pained way he'd moved as they'd escaped from Exegol, the torture she had witnessed him enduring just the night before, the TIE blast that had nearly ended his life not that long ago.

As much as she wanted to rail at him for putting himself in danger, for being stupid and foolish and running headlong into what was certainly a suicide mission, she couldn't. He had been through hell, and while it wasn't really her fault, she had certainly played a role in it. Everything he had endured for her, all the while thinking he didn't stand a chance…

Her heart broke for him all over again.

She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. The bond clarified through the stronger physical connection, and she could feel the emotional turmoil within him, despite his scrambling efforts to quickly bury it. He was a wreck. He was hurting deeply, and had been for several weeks.

How had she not seen him spiraling helplessly out of control? Palpatine had dragged him down into the depths of darkness, and she'd watchedit happen, but she hadn't been there for him.

Because her feelings had been hurt.

"Ben, I'm so sorry," she murmured, on the verge of tears herself. "I've been awful to you these past weeks. I told you I would trust you, and I broke my promise. At the first test of my faith in you, I ran away. You have been nothing but kind and caring and protective of me, and in return I hurt you deeply."

"You had a right to know," he replied quietly. "I kept the truth from you for far too long."

"You did it to protect me, as you did with everything else."

Moving gingerly, he leaned forward and braced his elbows on the table, resting his forehead in one palm and folding the other arm across the surface. She waited while he silently processed everything.

After a while, he spoke. "You have to know. You have to know I… Rey, I've loved you for years," he whispered, staring blankly at the table top. "Nearly a year's worth of standard time in the vision, and almost six years after that, in my memories." His voice caught, and he pressed his forehead into his palm. "I missed you. So much. And then when I saw you for the first time, in the meeting room on D'Qar…" He paused to swallow, and his fingers slid back to knot in his hair.

"I would do anything for you," he breathed. "Even if it means dying so you can live."

She felt the burn of tears at the back of her eyes. Oh, sweetheart. "Ben. Will you look at me?"

He visibly steeled himself, then dropped his arm and slowly met her gaze. She could read fear in the distant brown depths. Fear of making himself fully vulnerable to her, and of her subsequent rejection.

"I love you," she told him, and then huffed a laugh—half nervous, half relieved at having finally said it so definitively. "Stars, I'm not used to opening up like this. But I think I've loved you from the first moment I saw you, standing beside Luke in that meeting room. You were the first person who understood me. You believed in me." She sniffed wetly. "I'm happiest when I'm with you—like when we meditated together on D'Qar, or when we went swimming on Ahch-To, or when we spent the night stargazing for Star Destroyers on that old Resistance transport. And I've never been so afraid as when I feared I was about to lose you." Her hands tightened into fists at the thought. "So if you go haring off again and get yourself shot by a TIE fighter or nearly killed by some creepy Dark Lord in a deep, dark pit, I really might become cross with you." Her voice hitched. "Got it?"

He was watching her with glassy brown eyes. He held very still, hardly even breathing as he hung on every word.

"I can't pretend to understand everything you've been through," she continued, holding his gaze. "I may never understand. All the whispers, and the manipulation, and distrust, and isolation, and pressure. But I can promise you that you aren't alone anymore. You don't have to face it alone anymore, because I am with you. I am yours, and you are mine. I claim you. And nothing will ever, ever come between us, not if you'll have me. Not Poe, not Palpatine, not anyone."

His lips were trembling, so it was difficult to tell whether they quirked up in a small smile. "You claim me, huh?" he grated.

"I am a scavenger," she teased gently. "I claim you. By rights, you're mine now."

He huffed wetly. "You can't claim a person."

"I just did." Her smirk softened, and she reached up to brush a wayward strand of hair out of his face. "I love you, Ben," she whispered seriously.

He pressed his lips together in an effort to make them stop shaking. "You're wrong about one thing, though." His voice was low and tight.

Her heart stalled in her chest.

"I stargazed for Star Destroyers. You slept the whole time—"

She launched herself at him. Capturing his patchy-bearded face in her hands, she pulled him in and crushed her lips to his.

He stiffened beneath her hands, breath catching in a gasp, and belatedly jerked away to stare at her with rounded eyes. She knew a moment of panic when she feared she'd misread him, but then a look of longing crossed his face, so intense it was nearly painful. He moved back in, trembling fingers threading through her hair to cradle her head, and kissed her back with everything he had. His other arm slid around her waist, and she curled her arms around his neck, pressing into him as she marveled in the warmth of his body against hers, the softness of his lips, the silkiness of his hair and the strength of his arms around her. She wanted to stay in this moment forever.

When they broke apart to catch their breath, she realized he was silently weeping. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes were shut tight. He sucked in an unsteady breath.

She brought his head into her shoulder and smoothed her hand over his hair, combing through the dark locks before pressing a kiss against them. She held him tightly, and felt his fingers knot into the back of her shirt, holding on for dear life while he came to terms with everything that had happened.

…

After a while, her legs began to fall asleep. Ben had quieted, and now he simply held her, his arms loosely encircling her waist as his head sagged against her shoulder.

"Do you want to lie down?" she murmured against his hair. "You must be exhausted."

He nodded.

She shifted, and he immediately straightened away, releasing his hold on her. He was still very pale, and his eyes looked heavy, even as he kept them averted from her. Through the locks of tousled hair, the tips of his ears were pink.

She eased off the bench and held out a hand to him. He noticed and frowned at it, then glanced up at her.

"Come on," she said gently, wiggling her fingers.

He looked at her hand again, then tentatively reached out and took it. Smiling encouragingly, she tugged him off the bench and helped him to the med bunk. He sighed tightly as he collapsed back against the thin mattress, and she reached for the foot of the cot and pulled the blanket up over him. Bracing on either side of him, she leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

The brief touch allowed an impression of his feelings to wash over her—all the aches and pains, a profound weariness so strong it almost made him feel ill, and a deep, desperate desire for her to stay, although he would never voice it. When she pulled away, his eyes were closed; a line between his brows belied his otherwise blank expression. She bit her lip against a smile.

"Budge up," she commanded softly. When he opened his eyes and blinked up at her, she smiled at him. "You didn't think I was going to leave, did you?" she teased. "Come on, let me in."

He raised up on his elbows, and she climbed into the bunk, settling across the head of the cot then patting her thighs in invitation. Taking the hint, he gingerly lowered himself until his head came to rest in her lap. Exhaling slowly, he closed his eyes again.

Looking down at him, she took in his furrowed brow and downturned lips. He looked like he had a headache on top of everything else, which wouldn't surprise her, considering how much he'd been through. She began to comb through his silky black locks, letting her fingers scratch gently against his scalp before pulling the strands out to their full length. He moaned softly at the sensation, and turned his face into her, seeking more.

She contented herself with studying him while he rested. Her eyes roamed over his brow and the slight furrow that was still present, taking in the way his lashes made dark half-moons against his pale skin, the long nose, lips relaxed and slightly parted as he breathed, the slender jaw covered in patchy black fuzz. His dark fall of hair tumbled over her thighs as she combed it out. She trailed her fingers against the shell of one ear, and amazingly, he didn't seem to mind. She'd noticed how he was always careful to keep them covered with his hair.

His broad chest rose and fell slowly with his even breathing. Through the gap in the top of his shirt, she could see the indentation of his sternum and ribs. She hadn't been able to see them before. Lifting a hand, she delicately traced the line of his collarbone. His thinness worried her.

He reached up and gently curled his fingers around hers, holding her hand against his heart. The dry warmth of his hand dispelled some of the melancholy that had descended upon her. He might have suffered, but he was here, and she was going to fight for him. She would see to it that he regained his health.

He drifted off against her, fingers loosening but remaining lightly curled around hers. With a full heart, she remained awake, keeping watch over him as she continued to comb through his hair.

A/N: Starred (*) phrases were borrowed from Star Wars!