Warning: insane levels of tooth-rotting fluff ahead. More plot next week, but for now...FLUFF. (*throws confetti*)

(By the way, who else nearly died from Feelings over those leaked excerpts of the TROS novelization? I fully intend to snuggle up on the couch with a blanket and a cuppa tea when my pre-ordered copy arrives.)

"Cross my heart and hope to die

Taking this one step at a time

I got your back if you got mine

One foot in front of the other!"

—Walk the Moon, "One Foot"

Ben woke to the rhythmic beeping of a medical monitor, the hum of the air ventilation system, a dead weight on his shoulder…and the unmistakable sound of someone snoring. With a start he raised his head off the pillow, one hand instinctively curling in a defensive fist and his other arm tightening around Rey.

Almost immediately, however, he relaxed. He was still in the medbay on Ajan Kloss. There were no soldiers at the door keeping watch over him, and he wasn't restrained in any way. No cuffs, no straps. Even the drugs they'd used to coax him to sleep last night had worn off. He knew that the second he reached out with the Force and sensed that there was, in fact, a guard outside of the room.

Well, that's better than inside, he thought, leaning back against the pillows again. The idea of a stranger watching him while he slept was unsettling. After years of hiding behind the mask of Kylo Ren, he'd have to get used to people looking at his face on a regular basis. He'd just rather they did it when he was capable of looking back.

And he certainly didn't want them watching Rey when he couldn't keep an eye on them.

Carefully, so he wouldn't disturb her, he leaned forward again. She was sound asleep, curled up against him with one hand splayed over his heart. Her hair tumbled down her back in a tousled brown mess; her cheeks were pink, and she was snoring. Ben smiled, lifting his bandaged arm just enough so he could stroke her hair. She pursed her lips, drew a long, deep breath, and stretched.

"Good morning, Sweetheart," he whispered.

Rey rubbed her nose and buried her face in his chest. "Five more minutes…"

The whole thing was so endearingly normal, he almost laughed out loud. When was the last time he'd thrown back his head and really, truly laughed, anyway? He must've been a teenager, playing with some of his uncle's other padawans—those who either hadn't teased him mercilessly or cowered away from him, intimidated by his burgeoning power and intensity. Those padawans had been few and far between.

I wonder what happened to them. I hope they didn't—

He shuddered, remembering the flames, the lightning, the paralyzing horror, and the brutal accusations from his uncle that had followed. Resentment, pain, and guilt reared their ugly heads; the contentment he'd felt just seconds ago started to lose its strength.

"Please don't, Ben," Rey murmured. "Don't go that way."

He snapped out of the memories with a shaky exhale and looked at her. He thought at first she was dreaming, but a quick check of the Bond told him she was quite awake and very much aware of what was going through his head. He clasped her hand and lifted it to his lips.

"Whatever you say, Princess," he whispered. "Because you're my Princess. No one else's."

Rey smiled, her eyes fluttering open. It took his breath away. He could get used to watching her wake up like this every morning…

"Ben!" she cried, scrambling upright. "Your face!"

He grimaced. "Please, let's not talk about my face…"

"But it's hardly bruised!"

He stopped short. Rey laughed in disbelief, resting her palm against his cheek. Come to think of it, it didn't feel as stiff and swollen as it had last night.

"Your face is healed, too," he murmured.

She touched her forehead, running her fingers over the spot where, last night, a knot had formed beneath an angry-looking scrape. The battered skin had mended completely. She checked her arms and hands, too, but every cut, scratch, and bruise from their battle on Exegol had vanished. Even Ben felt only a manageable ache beneath the bacta-cast as he sat up, pressing a hand to his side.

"Do you think we've been healing each other in the night?" Rey whispered.

"Maybe," Ben replied with a careful stretch. "There's a lot about being one half of a Dyad that I don't understand yet. But there's one thing I do know…"

"What?"

"Dameron and his people will want to see me the second they know I'm awake and functioning."

"Well, they're not seeing you without me present. And you're not seeing anybody until you've eaten."

"But—"

"Shush." Rey clamped her hand over his mouth. "Nobody's taken care of you in far too long. I intend to make sure that never happens again. Now stay right where you are and let me ask somebody to bring us something to eat."

Gently, Ben pulled her hand away. "You don't need to go far. There's a guard right outside the door."

Rey scowled at the very notion and sprang off the bed, smoothing her over-large pajamas over her strong but thin form. Maybe he ought to be the one making sure she ate, too. He knew she'd heard the thought when she tipped her head to one side with a mischievous smirk.

"I eat like a bantha," she said. "Ask Finn. He says I'll eat the Resistance out of house and home one day."

Ben just smiled, enjoying the mental image of Rey out-eating a squad of brawny pilots. She saw it, too, and giggled.

Everything about this was just too wonderful…too dream-like…too impossible. He couldn't possibly be here in his mother's stronghold, defying the Dark and waking up with Rey like he hadn't just been the First Order's feared Supreme Leader the day before yesterday. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve any of it…

"The Grace of the Light, it is."

Ben swung his long legs over the edge of the bed and gingerly got to his feet. Rey watched him, her eyes wide and clear and questioning as he hobbled closer.

"Come here," he whispered. "Please…just for a minute before you go."

"You said yourself I don't have to go far," she protested. "I'll be right b—"

But before she could finish he wound his arms around her and pressed her head to his chest. Rey melted into the embrace: with a happy sigh she slipped her own arms around him and closed her eyes. Ben buried his lips in her hair, rocking her gently as he channeled all his feelings for her and for this moment into the Bond.

"I love you, Rey. I love this. It's what I always wanted. Even when I offered you my hand the first time, I wanted this."

She lifted her head. Ben held his breath, afraid she might not appreciate the reference to that conversation. But Rey only smiled, her face flushed with joy and something else he dared not name for fear he might lose himself in it completely.

"I know," she whispered back to his mind. "And now I'm going to fight for it, too."

When Rey flung open the medbay door, the guard standing watch nearly jumped out of his skin. She waited until he'd composed himself before offering him a friendly smile.

"Would you mind fetching a medic?" she asked. "We need some breakfast, but someone needs to stay with the prisoner."

"Y-yes, of course," the man stammered. "I'll find somebody straightaway, Master Skywalker."

This time, it was Rey who blinked in surprise. "Master Skywalker?" Did Poe tell the entire Base? She shut the door as soon as the guard scuttled away and found Ben watching her on his way to the medbay's tiny 'fresher.

" 'Master Skywalker?' " he repeated, one eyebrow quirked.

She flushed, pressed her back against the door. "Are you angry?"

"Why should I be?"

"Well…because…" Rey wrinkled her nose and reverted to the ease of the Bond. "It's just that you were angry with Luke for so long. I don't expect you to recover from that overnight."

But Ben only shook his head. "I'm not angry. If anybody could carry on the Skywalker legacy, it would be you." He winced as he made the step into the 'fresher, his ribs still giving him some grief. "Just don't get attached to it. You might want to change it one day."

Rey frowned, puzzled, but he only smiled and shut the door behind him.

The medic who came with breakfast got quite a shock when she saw Rey's unscathed face. When Rey assured her that Ben wouldn't need anymore medical attention, either, the woman looked as if she thought the young Jedi had lost her mind. But then Ben emerged, clean and clad in a simple outfit he'd found in the 'fresher, and the woman could barely string coherent words together. It was all Rey could do to keep a straight face.

"I can't decide if she was frightened," Ben muttered as soon as the medic left, "or just surprised."

"A bit of both, I imagine," Rey giggled. "I see you're breaking out the spring colors."

Ben looked down at the dark-blue shirt and grey trousers. "It's the only thing I could find that fit. And these barely work."

"Well, I like it. It's nice to see you in something other than black." Rey eagerly gestured at the tray of food on the room's small table. "Come on, let's eat. I'm starving."

Ben approached cautiously; she couldn't tell if he was skeptical of the food, unsure how they'd divide it, or if he simply wasn't hungry. As soon as his dark eyes lit up, she knew it wasn't the third possibility—and she'd divided it equally in less than ten seconds. It was the quality of the food, then. She had to remind herself that he was probably used to finer fare aboard First Order Dreadnoughts.

He didn't complain, though—and the longer they stood over the tray, the faster he reached for the next bite. Neither of them had eaten in well over twenty-four hours. Before long Rey's sense of humor bubbled to the surface: she mischievously reached for his portion.

"Hey, hey," he protested, swatting her hand away. "Eat your own, Scavenger."

Rey giggled, and to her everlasting delight he grinned back. There was no trace of Kylo Ren in that smile: no anger, no resentment, and—for the moment, at least—not even a hint of inner torment. She wasn't even in the presence of Ben Solo as he had been in those tense, painful years as Luke's apprentice. The young man beside her now was free for the first time in his life. More than that, he was happy.

But will the rest of the world let him stay this way? We're safe here, at the moment…but what if everyone else is like that poor man who nearly killed him last night? What if no one else is willing to accept the possibility that Kylo Ren is dead?

What if I lose him just when I need him the most?

As she stole another glance at him he met her gaze, swallowing his last morsel. With a tenderness that made her face warm, he reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

No, she couldn't lose him now. She needed those generals and the leaders of the Resistance to see what the power of love and hope could do to even someone as lost, broken, and hated as Kylo Ren. She needed them to balance justice with mercy, to imagine what wonderful things he could do now that he was on their side.

And she needed them to let her keep him, because having him by her side was the only way she'd ever become who she was truly meant to be.

Besides…it had just dawned on her what he'd meant about changing her name one day.

The summons came all too soon in the form of a stern note signed by Commander D'Acy: Master Rey Skywalker (there's that name again, Ben thought with an odd, incredulous pride) was to bring "the prisoner" before Resistance Command in half an hour. An armed escort would lead them from the medbay to Command Center to "avoid a repeat of last night's unnecessary conflict."

"Well, I appreciate that," Ben deadpanned, handing the summons back to Rey. "I'd rather avoid a repeat, too."

She took the note, slowly turning it over in her fingers. "Why didn't you fight back?"

He sighed, methodically tidying the sheets on the med-bed. "If I had, I might've killed that man."

"But he was head and shoulders taller than you. He could've smashed your head in—"

"And I could've broken his neck with one snap of my fingers." Ben straightened, suppressing a shudder. "I thought about it, Rey. I even heard myself—my old self—telling me to do it. But if I'd lifted a finger—if I'd hurt anyone—they'll only ever see Kylo Ren."

"No, Ben," Rey murmured, coming closer. "That's not true. Or at least…it won't be forever…"

"Do you know how hard it is to turn the other cheek when I've spent my entire life hiding or fighting, Rey? Do you?"

She said nothing, startled by the frustration in his voice. Ben groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. These mood swings were getting disorienting: one second he was ridiculously happy, the next he was haunted by the filth of his past. And behind it all loomed the old, familiar fear that he'd never be accepted, that he was a monster, that he could never be forgiven, that he could never be loved…

He felt her hand on his forearm and shivered. Slowly, tenderly, Rey turned his whole body in her direction—and he let her, because he'd let Rey do anything to him. She would never hurt him.

"I once called Kylo Ren a monster," she said, wrapping her arms around his middle. "And he agreed with me. Do you remember that?"

Ben frowned and nodded. Focus…focus on her voice…

"Kylo Ren was a monster," she went on, rubbing his back and the spot in his side where a dull, throbbing ache still lingered. "But Ben Solo isn't. Prove that to them. Tell them what the Jedi told you. Let them know you truly want to help us—and just be who you are!"

"But who am I? That's the question, Rey. That's the question they'll ask us both."

"And I know the answer," she whispered. "You're our last hope…and the other half of my soul. I've never been more sure of anything else in my life."

He stared at her, a little overwhelmed. He'd needed to hear her say it—yet it had reminded him, too, of what his uncle had promised him in that dark, ethereal place after Exegol. So long as he believed in who he truly was—so long as he remembered he was Ben Solo, Last of the Skywalkers, the man who'd returned to the Light—he'd have everything he needed.

But I have everything I need right here beside me, too, he thought as he reached up, cradling her face in his hands. He heard her breath catch, saw the way her hazel eyes widened and shone. As he leaned his forehead against hers and she closed her eyes, the rhythm of their breathing fell into sync. Their Bond thrummed like a melody as he kissed her for the first time since they were aboard the Falcon…

Until a firm knock on the door startled them. Rey jerked away, blushing a deep crimson. Ben kept his eyes on her, unwilling to let that knock strike fear in him.

"Rey? Rey, it's me! Poe said I could come and bring you two down to Command Center myself."

"It's Finn," Rey whispered. "Time to go."

Ben nodded, reluctantly lowering his hands from her face. Rey smoothed her hair, straightened her tunic. The knocking started again.

"Rey? Everything all right in there?"

"Just fine, Finn—we're coming!" Rey called. She clipped the lightsabers to her belt and checked herself in the mirror one last time. She was still flushed and radiant, but there was a determined glint in her eyes as she reached out and laced her rough, slender fingers with Ben's larger and far smoother ones.

"We go together," she whispered. "Always."

He squeezed her hand. "Always."