Cheesemaster112 asked for a "Ben injures Poe with a lightsaber and they try to hide it" moment...
Really hoping my Benny!writers!block is over and done with. X( Feed me inspiration?
(Before Kylo Ren) (Ben is nine)
"Don't tell Mom, don't tell Mom, don't tell Mom, don't tell Mom..."
Generals perpetually terrified cadets, commanders, and small children. Of course, it wasn't often that Poe had to slop burn cream across the back of his hand because Ben wanted to get his attention and his lightsaber was the nearest extendable object. (Thank the stars Luke only gave his initiates training 'sabers.)
"Ben, I'm fine. Really. It's just a scorch."
"It was an accident — you weren't listening — I'd never have done it if you had just looked up instead of talking to that stupid droid — don't tell Mom pleeease I'm already in trouble for breaking the caf machine this morning!"
"You broke the caf machine?" Poe interjected. "Ben, that's unforgivable. If my parents caught me sabatoging their caf they'd have shipped me to an abandoned Imperial outpost — without supper."
"I said I was sorry!" Ben squeaked. "And it was 3PO's fault for leaving it on the counter! It got in the way — "
"In the way of your lightsaber," Poe intoned. "Like my hand," he emphasized, flapping it about and dotting the mirror with burn cream. Uck.
"I can fix it!" Ben insisted, lunging forward and jumping to grab Poe's arm. "Master Luke said the Force can heal. I'll just make it better and then you won't have to tell Mom."
"What — hold on — I don't think the Force works like that," Poe warned, screwing up his face as Ben squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated really, really hard.
"There!" Ben announced gleefully. "It's better, right? I fixed it!"
"Uh..." How did one summarize 'my hand still really hurts and you stained my sleeve with bacta gel' without bursting the metaphorical well of tears? "It... feels great, Ben." Owwwww.
"I did it? I did it," Ben whispered in awe. "I'm a Force-healer Master! I'm gonna go tell Mom. Mom!" he shouted, barreling out of the room before Poe could hiss at him to keep it under wraps until the swelling went down. "Mom, guess what? Poe got burnt with a stupid lightsaber but he's all better and I'm already the best healer in the galaxy!"
"You should probably cover that with some synthflesh or something before Mama checks it out," Ech'ban drawled from the top bunk, scrolling to the next page of his trashy space-pirate-romance novel.
"Oh, shut your karking face," Poe muttered, jamming his hand back under the cold faucet water. "I'll just show her my other hand." So maybe the kid would have an excuse to turn his nose in the air and prattle on to the medical droids about his "supreme abilities." Poe could wear gloves. For the next six months.
He didn't make it six seconds before Leia slapped his good hand away and marched him to the healers for a proper bandage. Ben was grounded for a week for misusing his lightsaber. Poe was charged with lying to a commanding officer and shoveled the hangar for the rest of winter.
Ben didn't try mending his battle wounds again, and once Poe received the lecture from Master Skywalker about the equivilant exchange of Life Force, he didn't let any of the spirit healers touch him.
The Jedi Path was seriously messed up.
(Aftermath)
"You're back," Ben said, bewilderment muddling the distasteful curl of his upper lip. He rubbed at his face self-consciously and Leia cringed. How long had it been since his capture? Had it been weeks already? Kriff, that boy needed a shave.
Chaffing at the silence, Ben stated with pitiless mockery, "I thought you would never speak to me again."
"You're not getting out of it that easily," Leia snapped. Neither am I, because all that I can see is my son; no matter what you have become.
"You're right," Ben answered, mercilessly crushing the hope that thrummed against common sense. "I'm surprised you waited this long to avenge the murder of your son - but then again, I supposed he survived, didn't he?"
"You are still my son," Leia rasped, anger and loss closing her throat and piercing the armor around her heart. "Kylo Ren is only a name. You cannot take your blood from your own family."
Wordless shock welled in Ben's eyes for a moment before he scowled. "I was referring to the pilot. It doesn't matter. Kylo Ren murdered Ben Solo and his father months ago. You know this."
"Tell me what happened," Leia demanded, clenching her hands at her sides. I will not be goaded to rash words. He will answer to me.
"To your sweet little boy?" Ben snorted. "I killed him. He's never coming back, Mother."
"Don't flatter yourself," Leia snapped. "I'm not concerned with your self-pity." For that's what it was; what it always had been. Ben craved the attention — the belonging — that he believed everyone save himself had earned. Did you really think we valued another child more than our own blood? You would let his kindness poison your fervent goodness; your love for life; until you hated your own name.
"Tell me why you killed your father," Leia said softly.
A full-bodied flinch. Ah, right on the mark. The weeks of solitary were befuddling him; wearing down the shields he had bolstered against emotional responses. Leia knew from her own time as a prisoner of the Empire that there were only so many days one could spend alone before diplomacy and social decorum was forgotten. Ben had to be craving the soulful inflection of his own voice in a live, humane interaction.
Only he won't change, Leia thought, tight-lipped with restraint. If it were only so easy, solitary would have cured the Resistance of deserters long ago. Such punishment could only weaken a prisoner's combative instincts. The desperate soul had to be won over by a friend.
And Kylo Ren had no friends in the Resistance.
"He was holding me back," Ben said jaggedly, losing some of the resilience in his voice. "I had to dispose of him."
"Why?" Leia stressed. The air quivered around her as the Force throbbed with pent emotion. Do not think you were the only one who struggles with control. The fact that I can run this military should be proof enough that you are capable of so much more than your anger.
"Because he asked!" Ben shouted. "He said he would do anything! So I … I put him…" His voice broke once, before he twisted violently, smashing his fist into his thigh. Leia felt the implosion of blood cells already broken.
It was not the first time he had caused himself pain.
"I did it because I had to," Ben growled, shadow flooding his eyes until there was nothing but malice in his feral sneer. "Han Solo had to die so that Kylo Ren could rise. Are you satisfied, Mother?"
"I think I understand," Leia said slowly. Stiffening at her shrewd tone, Ben shrunk back against the cell wall; defending his darkness lest the light creep in. She had seen it before, when he flung a boy into a battle ship and found someone who couldn't break; wouldn't bend. This was her son, afraid of his transgressions.
What compassion Luke must have felt for his father; a man so plagued by regret that he had no choice but to delve deeper into the darkness, until he was willing to sacrifice his own children lest he acknowledge the anguish and sorrow surrounding faces he would never see again. Kylo Ren had murdered hundreds, but Ben Solo had lost his father.
With the light there would be screams and regret. He dared not change his path.
But he was not wholly lost yet.
"I ought to jettison you into space," Leia said, hands finding their place on her hips as though Ben was thirteen again, standing over a crippled mouse droid. "Force knows I've ordered the executions of good soldiers convicted of half your crimes."
"Then do it," Ben challenged her savagely. "Rid the galaxy of a tyrant. Others will take my place."
"You still think everything is about you," Leia said scathingly. "But you were out there guiding Poe in the firefight. Why don't you answer that little riddle, and tell me why it matters whether or not he splits his skull open one day."
She could practically see Ben's mind short-circuit as she employed the trigger she'd made Han swear never to mention. Ever since the Gamorrean capture, when Poe could barely drink through a straw for weeks as he relearned how his muscles coordinated, Ben had been terrified of his friend bumping his head. One more good knock, the medical droid had warned them. Though Poe had proved unflappable, surviving many a wallop and explosions besides, Ben's tormentors had often reminded him of where that hairline fracture originated, and how it was only a matter of time…
Leia would torture her son's mind if it would save him. But her heart still panged within her when Ben's eyes went vacant, anguish jolting their smokey depths to brown before he gnashed his teeth.
"The next time I see him, I'll put a plasma bolt through his head. We'll see how the Resistance thrives without its precious pilot."
Pressing her lips tightly together, Leia retreated. She didn't need to hear any more. She had what she needed to know.
Somewhere below that barricade of durasteel and hate were the memories that Kylo Ren could not destroy. Leia could dredge the past out of his mind, forcing him to relive every moment when he cried for forgiveness, but it would change nothing. He would be wild; untamable; frantic to forget what had been lost. He might capitulate for a time to soothe his wounds, but the darkness would roil back sevenfold and consume him. No one could change her son's path.
If there was one person who might have convinced him to salvage what was left of his young life…
Well, he was already convinced that it was too late to offer redemption.
And Leia mourned for them both.