Notes: Thanks again to everybody who read the last chapter! I'm so happy to have you along for the ride.

Sorry that this chapter took a while, but I wanted it to be perfect. It is longer than the last two, and things are starting to get angsty now. Can't wait to get into the meat of this fic!

Content warning: mentions of weight loss in this chapter.

Rey stepped back from the panel she had opened up on the TransIT-212 speeder bus in front of her. The repulsorlift engine had failed yesterday, dropping a busload of passengers onto the ferrocrete with a resounding crash – or so she had been told. Rey didn't need to know the particulars. She was just there to fix it.

She ran her fingers across the engine, assessing its condition. As far as she could see, it would be a simple job, as it invariably was on the capital. Communication between the repulsor coils and the controls had failed, probably after the speeder bus had been filled over capacity. She just needed to recalibrate the electromagnetic transponders that relayed signals between the cockpit and the coils. Rey tucked behind her ears the flyaway hairs that had fallen out of the slapdash bun she had assembled earlier that morning. She wiped her hands on her black jumpsuit, transferring the engine grease to where it couldn't be seen, then rolled up the sleeves and set to work immediately.

Rey knew that what she was doing was unnecessary. After the war, the New Alliance had invested heavily in developing droids, hoping to shrink the divide between the wealthy Core Worlds and the long forgotten Outer Rim Territories by establishing universal infrastructure across the galaxy. Using resources seized from the fallen First Order, new model class 2 droids were manufactured in their hundreds of thousands to build and maintain galaxywide transport networks, both on and off world. Efficient, affordable energy grids were constructed on every Alliance planet, along with unlimited access to the HoloNet.

It was a major ongoing operation, only made possible by the droids which (unlike flesh and blood labourers) could work indefinitely, without needing to stop for rest, sustenance, or any of the other things that make lifeforms substandard workers. Once every couple of days, the sentients overseeing the operations would perform a macro protocol on their divisions, in order to maintain compliance.

It was a highly efficient system, and one that many – including Rey – were not entirely comfortable with. However, when offered the choice between abusing the productivity of droids and letting children on backwater planets continue to endure hardship, objectors soon quietened down.

BB-8 was one of the lucky ones. Although he had been top of the range only three years ago, the industry boom that commenced once the Alliance had been formally instated quickly rendered him obsolete. With Poe stuck inside an office all day, he had little use for an astromech droid, and Rey had soon found herself with a permanent ball-shaped shadow. Poe said that he didn't mind, insisting that it was best for all of them, but Rey knew how much he loved that little droid. She knew that he had ordered BB-8 to stay with her for her benefit, probably imagining that he would be good company on long days alone in the capital. Truthfully, he had been right about that.

Rey hopped into the cockpit to test her handywork. The speeder bus lifted off the ground with nary a shudder – just what she thought. Satisfied, she turned off the engine, and climbed out of the vehicle, pausing to glance around the maintenance hangar before she returned to seal up the panel. It was empty of lifeforms, as she expected. Whenever Rey turned up, the supervisors always made a show of yawning and checking their chronometers before taking a suspiciously long break. She didn't need to perform a mind trick to know that Poe had instructed them to stay out of her way. Not that they needed an excuse. Rey had always got the distinct impression that they were afraid of her. Perhaps that was for the best.

Thus, her only company was the handful of engineering droids conducting routine maintenance on another bus in the next bay. The soft bleeps of their binary chatter and the whirring of their tools were the only sounds. Though the droids objected to her interfering in their work, it was against their programming to stop her, so they mostly left her to it, only interrupting to tidy up her inferior welding every now and again.

This was how Rey spent her days: waking late from a fitful night's sleep in her military bed, shuffling down to Engineering Corps to find unnecessary work to busy her mind with, walking the bowels of the city until she could barely keep her eyes open, and then dragging herself off to bed before starting all over again the next day. She subsisted on little more than ration bars, instant caf, and Corellian whiskey, unable to stomach anything else.

She kept her lightsaber holstered on her hip at all times, but she never found a need to use it. Occasionally, she ran through forms when she knew no one was watching, but it was hard to focus without the threat of an enemy looming over her. She felt redundant in this new world. After all, she was only good at three things: swinging a lightsaber around, fixing broken things, and waiting. There wasn't much use for a lightsaber in peacetimes, they had droids to fix everything these days, and now, there was nobody left to wait for. Everybody was accounted for, and she was alone, the last Jedi in a galaxy that didn't need them anymore.

BB-8 bleeped inquisitively from where he was hovering next to her toolkit, waking her from her reverie. She must have gotten lost in her thoughts. It happened with far too much regularity, so she was glad that BB-8 was the only one there to see her lose control of her emotions. She furiously blinked away the tears that were filling her eyes, and set about resecuring the panel she had removed to access the fault. Anything to keep her mind off the storm that constantly raged within her skull.

She was halfway through welding the metalwork together, imagining the engineering droids reprimanding her poor discipline later, when she heard a voice calling her name. It was a voice so warm and sincere in its joy that it made her heart ache.

Rey froze where she stood. BB-8 was squealing and chattering away excitedly next to her, but she hardly noticed. Her brain was screaming like the emergency sirens that sounded impending an attack by the First Order, but it wasn't an enemy approaching her now… so why did she feel like it was?

The voice called out again. Her breathing accelerated and her heart began pounding in her chest. She knew she should look up, throw her arms open, and smile, but she couldn't will her body to move. Why? Why couldn't she react?

Blood was roaring in her ears as a million ideas about how this was going to go ran through her head. Everything she hadn't said or done over the last two years rushed to the forefront of her mind. Intrusive thoughts volleyed from one side of her skull to the other.

I've let him down. He'll be disappointed in me.

I should run before it's too late.

I can't do it. It's too much.

I can't cope.

It's too much.

It's all ove–

A warm hand wrapped around her own, and the anxiety raging through her body inexplicably lifted somewhat. She turned instinctively towards the soothing presence of the hand's owner and found herself looking into the eyes of her dearest friend.

'Finn' she gasped, not daring to believe that it was really him. His hair was longer now, falling in locs over his forehead, and he was sporting the faintest shadow of stubble around his lips. An oversized khaki trench coat curled around his form-fitting black shirt, and his tapered cargo pants were tucked into hefty combat boots at his ankles. Somehow, he looked more like himself than she could ever remember, and he looked good.

Finally, her body moved of its own accord, throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace which he eagerly returned. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she blinked them back lest he realise how badly she had missed him. She didn't want him to see that. Not when he had so obviously thrived in her absence.

Reluctantly, she pulled back, and looked once more at the man standing before her. Only two years had passed, but he looked so much older somehow. Wiser. He was categorically different from the Finn she remembered – changed in a way that Rey couldn't quite put her finger on – but there, at the centre of his face, were the same kind eyes that she remembered from the frightened stormtrooper at Niima Outpost all those years ago. He was smiling gently, but those dark eyes were worried.

'Rey,' he sighed, looking down at her scrawny form. She crossed her arms self-consciously. 'What are we going to do with you?'

'I'm fine,' she replied mechanically, giving him the same stock response she used whenever Poe asked the same question. 'All the better now you're back.'

She was smiling, but her cheeks were straining. She didn't want to talk about her. She was keen to move on. 'Look at you, you look amazing! Where did you find all this? Tell me all about it! I want to hear about all of the places you've seen.'

His concerned expression wavered, as though he was warring with himself over whether he should push her. Eventually, he sighed, 'Alright, but don't think I'm going to drop this. We're talking about this later.'

Rey supposed that was the best she could hope for, so she packed up her tools and left the unfinished welding job for the droids to complete. She was sure they'd be more than happy to tidy up after her anyway.

o-o-o

With some help from the Force, the three of them – Rey, Finn, and BB-8 – snuck past the security guards up to the rooftop where Rey liked to while away her afternoons from time to time. They shared her flask of caf as Finn recounted the tales from his time away.

He launched into a detailed report of his travels across the galaxy, from the grassy plains of Lothal to the crystal forests of Christophsis. He described the bioluminescent jungles of Felucia where wildlife flourished undisturbed, and he detailed the sights and smells of the Naboo markets where musicians played their instruments in the streets and painters sold their works under canopied stalls. He recounted the circular districts of Bakura's capital city, where tailors' boutiques lined the streets, vying for the attention of passers-by, and where he had bought his ensemble. Finally, he recalled the joyous moment when Lando and Jannah, each hoping beyond to hope to find their lost loved ones on Taris, realised that they had been right next to one another all along.

If they could have seen it beyond the skyscrapers which shot up in every direction, the sun would have been immediately overhead as he finished his story. They were swinging their legs over the side of the Engineering Corps building now, and the dregs of the caf were cold at the bottom of Rey's flask.

Rey had listened intently, asking all the right questions and prompting Finn for more in moments of silence, but now it was done, she was overwhelmed. Her heart was hurting from all of the emotions she was feeling: wonder for all that Finn had seen and done; jealousy that he had experienced so much while she had been stuck on this stupid rock; pride for how much he had grown since she last saw him; resentment that Jannah had a father who was alive and loved her; frustration that she had stayed here and wallowed in her grief; anxiety that Finn might have outgrown her; but, mostly, genuine happiness for her friend. At least, that's what she told herself.

'Wow, Finn, that's…' She paused to find the words. What was it?

As though he could sense the emotions rolling off her in waves, Finn put his hand on her arm. 'It's OK,' he smiled. 'You don't have to say anything. I know it's a lot to take in.'

Her cheeks burned in shame, as if she wasn't already feeling conflicted enough. The last thing she wanted was for Finn to feel sorry for her. 'I'm fine,' she said again, staring determinedly at her boots. 'I'm happy for you. Honestly, I am. It sounds like the trip of a lifetime. I know I stopped replying to your holos, and I'm sorry for that, and I know it doesn't look like it, but I am happy for you–'

Finn squeezed her arm, stopping her ramble in its tracks and forcing her to look him in the eye. 'Rey, you're not fine. It's OK to admit that. I'm not mad that you stopped replying, I just want to help you.'

This was dangerous territory. She needed to change course now before it was too late. 'Did you find your family, Finn?'

It worked. He let go of her arm and looked away. 'No, I didn't find them. I think…' He swallowed, and his eyes were shining when he spoke again. 'I think they're gone.'

It wasn't the answer she was expecting, so she didn't anticipate the sick sense of relief that surged through her. It was only brief, but it left her reeling. She was a truly horrible friend. She knew how Finn was feeling better than anyone, and she couldn't even put her own feelings aside for a moment. Couldn't even be there for her only real friend.

'I'm sorry,' she choked out, but the words felt hollow in her mouth.

Finn didn't respond, and Rey couldn't muster the strength to say anything else, so they sat in awkward silence for a while, looking off in different directions.

'Well, at least we still have each other,' he finally stated. His voice was rough.

'Right. We have each other.'

Finn clicked his boots together over the side of the building, and he sounded excessively cheerful when he spoke again.

'Although I guess I'm the only one around here without a last name these days, huh?' He nudged her goodnaturedly, but Rey couldn't even attempt a smile.

'Last names are overrated,' she mumbled, then immediately bit her lip. Finn looked at her quizzically, and she wished she hadn't said anything.

'Overrated?' he probed. 'What are you talking about? You're a Skywalker now! It doesn't get better than that!'

Panic flared in her chest. She wanted to avoid this conversation; it could only end badly. 'I don't know. I don't want to talk about it.'

'Rey!' Finn all but shouted. 'After what you did, you deserve to feel like the hero you are. You should be celebrated!'

'It wasn't that simple. It's not like I did it alone.' She was getting agitated now, this was going too far.

Finn scoffed. 'Rey, you singlehandedly defeated Palp–'

'No, I didn't!'

Her voice was shrill and tight, and hush fell between them once more. Finn was agape, searching her tear-filled eyes with his own. BB-8 cooed softly from between them, and she cradled her head in her hands. 'It doesn't matter, I shouldn't have said anything.'

She counted the teardrops that fell from the end of her nose onto her thighs. Hesitantly, Finn reached out and rubbed small circles on her shoulder blade. 'Rey, we have to talk about this. I can't bear to see you hurting this way,' he said softly. He paused before speaking again. 'On Exegol… You were dead. I felt you die, but then…'

His hand stopped moving. 'Someone was with you, weren't they? You lost somebody that day, didn't you?'

Rey said nothing. He was getting too close to a truth that she wouldn't reveal. She couldn't reveal it, lest she lose the only family she'd ever had. She was shaking now, and Finn must have interpreted her reaction as confirmation because he threw his arm around her, pulling her close.

'Why didn't you tell me? We could have helped you!' he implored. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing him to stop before things went too far.

'You couldn't,' she gritted out.

'Rey, everybody lost people in this war,' he reasoned gently, and something broke in Rey. Her vision flashed red, and before she could stop them, the words came tumbling forth.

'This was different, Finn! None of you have any idea what this feels like!' she spat, shrugging his hand away. Her voice was like venom. 'None of you can imagine what I'm going through.'

It was true. For just over two years, Rey had nursed a gaping wound between her ribs that made eating difficult, breathing even harder, and sleeping near impossible. She ached near constantly, feeling the absence of him wherever she went. She tried her best to exhaust her body and distract her mind – anything to suspend the all-consuming emptiness that devoured her – but, at the end of the day when her head hit the pillow, it was inescapable. She felt the lack of him everywhere.

To his credit, Finn did not retaliate. He was calm when he spoke, and somehow that infuriated her even more. 'Maybe you're right, but I can't help you unless you talk to me, Rey. What are we dealing with here?'

Rey turned away. 'You wouldn't understand.'

'Maybe I would.'

His voice was quiet, and he sounded nervous. Intrigued, Rey looked back at him over her shoulder. He was worrying the bottom of his trench coat and avoiding her gaze. She waited.

'Remember that night after the end of the war?' he began slowly, still fiddling with his coat. 'You'd been locked away in your room for days. You wouldn't speak to anybody, you wouldn't eat, and we all thought it was just your way of coming to terms with the war. Then, one night, you finally came out…'

Rey swallowed. She knew the night he was talking about.

'We heard a commotion, and I thought something had happened so I came running. When I got there, the desk had been torn up with a lightsaber'–Rey cringed–'and you were gone. We were all coping in our own ways, so I figured you were just working stuff out… But as I was leaving, I noticed you'd put the Jedi texts in the trash.'

He paused, and looked at her meaningfully. She felt hot with shame and humiliation – it had been a very bad night.

'I didn't think you really wanted them mashed up in the trash compactor so… I took them for safekeeping.' Rey's breathing stopped. 'I meant to give them back, but then weeks went by and you didn't mention them, so–'

'You took them with you,' she whispered, slowly rising to her feet. Finn gazed up at her apprehensively.

'Rey,' he breathed, standing up to join her and grasping her hands. His voice was bobbing with excitement when he spoke again. 'I'm a Jedi now, too.'

Rey felt as though she'd been punched. She shook her head, scrunching up her eyes and trying to make sense of what he'd said. 'What?'

'Well, after the war, you didn't seem like you were ready to train me so… I took it upon myself.' He grinned at her now, his expression full of hope. Rey stared at him impassively. 'Rey, you don't have to do this alone anymore. We can start a Jedi temple together. I'll help–'

'You trained yourself?'

He was smiling, but a frown started to form on his brow. 'Well, I watched you train under Leia for more than a year, so I knew a thing or two already,' he contended. 'I studied the books, I meditated every day, I practised combat with Jannah…'

He paused, deliberating. Then, he pulled his trench coat aside and, from a holster on his thigh, produced a beautiful silver weapon which glinted in the afternoon sun. Rey stared at it dully.

'I even made my own lightsaber.'

He was smiling brilliantly at her, visibly glowing with pride, but Rey couldn't breathe. How could she have been so stupid? At once, she could see everything that she'd overlooked in her emotional stupor: the calm that had washed over her when he'd touched her; his diligence in managing his emotions when she had provoked him; the inexplicable sensation that he was different. He was ablaze in the Force, bright and warm and light through and through. How had she missed it?

She should have been ecstatic. She should have been overjoyed for her friend. She should have been showering him with praise. Instead, what came out was: 'So because you've read some books, you think that makes you a Jedi?'

Finn's smile faltered. 'What?'

She continued unthinkingly, 'You think because you've got a lightsaber, we're the same?'

He was dumbfounded. 'No, Rey, I don't think we're the same, but–'

'But you think you're a Jedi? You think that's all there is to it?'

Finn was glaring at her now. 'What else is there, Rey? Who's going to assess me? The Jedi Order was destroyed years ago. Kylo Ren murdered every single–'

'He didn't,' Rey snarled at him, her vision swimming. It had been so long since she had heard that name, and her reaction to it had been so visceral that she shocked even herself. She didn't want to hear it, especially not like that. Blood pounded in her ears and bile rose in her throat, but she lifted her chin at Finn defiantly.

He took a step back, stunned by her outburst. She could see him processing what had happened, but he didn't seem angry or disgusted, and that confounded her. She waited with bated breath for him to argue back – to tell her that she was crazy – but he just stood there, studying her. Just when she thought he wasn't going to say anything, he opened his mouth and her world tilted on its axis.

'Rey, was it Kylo Ren who saved you? Was it Kylo Ren that you lost that day?'

Her blood ran cold. Finn had asked the questions with such gentleness, such care – he was the very image of the Jedi that she wished she could be – but, in that moment, she hated him. Somewhere in the depths of her fury, she knew that was the only name that Finn had known him by. She knew that he was trying to help, and she knew that she should let him.

He stood before her, waiting patiently for her response, and she could feel the light radiating off him in waves. Finn was a good person. He would be an even better Jedi.

She made her choice.

'No,' she replied, and before he could say anything, she leapt from the side of the building. Pedestrians at street level gasped as she used the Force to buffer her landing before running into the crowds as fast as her legs would carry her. She didn't stop to see if Finn had followed her.

Up on the rooftop, Finn stood in stunned silence, staring at the spot where Rey had hit the ground. Onlookers craned their necks up to where he was looking over the edge, and he stepped back, speechless to reassure BB-8's panicked bleeps.

He carefully placed his lightsaber back in his holster before reaching into the inside pocket of his trench coat. From that safe spot, close to his heart, he produced the gift that he had intended to give to Rey.

He felt numb as he fumbled to open the golden locket. As he stared at the tiny painting of his face, to the left of two empty windows, he resisted the urge to throw it over the side after her.

There was something terribly wrong with Rey.

But he would make things right.

Notes: Forgive Rey for being absolutely vile to Finn - she's really going through it! I am very protective of Finn in this fic, so it was hard to write. More pain next time!

I'm roughly basing Rey's appearance off the concept art from the unreleased Duel of the Fates.