chapter thirteen: cold water
When the ferry docks, they again mount up and then Ben is threading his way through the city once more, passing the historic district, passing the industrial zones, moving away from downtown and further inland.
Rey isn't sure what to expect from Empire Analytics headquarters except some hazy notion of a tall office building. She is absolutely astonished at what it really turns out to be.
They've ascended a massive hill, and at the top sprawls the Empire campus. Rey sucks in a sharp breath, her hands tightening around the loops on Ben's jacket. They approaching a vast complex of black buildings jutting up out of the city like angular obsidian shards. None of them bear the name of the company, only big red renderings of the Empire logo — a six spoked wheel hemming in a sun with six rays.
A lot of people think the logo has ties to some secret supergroup like the Illuminati. Rey has heard this speculation before, but she never believed it. Now, however, she wonders. The emblem looks like a watchful eye glaring down at the city from every building.
They pull up to a guard tower where Ben shows an ID badge. A crossbar lifts and tire spikes sink into the ground, allowing them to enter the vast complex.
Inside is almost like a small city unto itself. There are people everywhere. On the ground floor of all the buildings there are public spaces, like restaurants and cafes, laundromats and libraries and convenience stores. There are even apparel shops selling business attire. A trolly runs the circuit of this city, taking pedestrians between the huge edifices. There are tables and chairs and various other places for people to sit outside.
Despite this, it does not have a welcoming feel. In fact, Rey has the distinct sensation that she has just been caught in a huge spider web. She knows instinctively that every movement echoes to the spider sitting at the center. It's an eerie feeling.
The employees have apparently been restricted to a very limiting palette of approved apparel colors. They are all dressed in greys, blacks, or the occassional white blouse or blazer. They move about with specific purpose, and Rey is struck by how odd it is to not see any of them stopping to socialize beyond a clipped, curt exchange of words. There is no laughter. No friendliness. No watercooler talk. They act like rigid pieces of some stern military group.
Ben's bike zips past everyone with an air of routine disinterest. He pulls into a parking garage attached to the central-most building and tallest tower. The center of the web. He doesn't bother locking up the helmets this time. Rey wonders if this is altogether a good idea. He seems confident in the security of the garage, but then this was the same place where a coworker threw a rock at his car.
He gives her a reassuring glance before they walk together out of the garage and into the building.
Rey feels completely conspicuous in her pale green shirt and light sand-colored pants. Clearly she is an outsider. She follows Ben, sticking close to his side lest someone stop her and demand to know what a gutter gremlin like her is doing in this sharp, crisp, coldly clean atmosphere. It works, because anyone who glances at her immediately looks next to Ben, and every time — every single time — they flinch away in fear and hurry off before attracting his notice.
Ben is a figure of terror for them, she realizes.
He did tell her that he was an enforcer for the second-highest ranking executive. But still. Seeing their reactions confirm her suspicions that this job must be extremely isolating. It would be impossible to make friends with people literally running away in fear.
And it makes sense now, she muses, why he'd impulsively accepted her offer to come with him. He has no allies here. He would have no one to buoy him up should his resolve weaken, and no kind face to greet him with triumph after he's committed career suicide. She can feel the hostility of this place, can see the way everyone keeps their head down, and knows that Zorri was right. This web does not easily let go of its prey once snared.
Ben takes her to an elevator. The two male employees in dark gray suits who had been waiting for it suddenly remember other tasks they need to do and skitter away, leaving them to wait alone.
"Real warm place you got here," Rey remarks.
Ben huffs derisively, but doesn't reply.
In the elevator he depresses the button for the fifty-ninth floor. There are sixty, so she could guess his importance by his proximity to the top even if she didn't already know it.
Feeling a little more confident since his confession on the ferry, Rey reaches out and catches his hand. He laces his fingers through hers and she gives him a squeeze, reassuring. They don't need to speak to feel what passes between them. His back straightens and his chin lifts. When the doors finally open again, his hand drops away from her and he sweeps forward.
Rey falls in step with him.
The floor is big and open, a bullpen of people working comprises the center of the room, while private offices run the length of two sides. The third is all windows, looking out on the complex, the city far below, and the Sound glittering beyond.
A secretary sitting at a big desk near the elevator lifts her head, her gaze darting from Ben to Rey and registering only the smallest hint of surprise.
"Good afternoon—" she starts, but cuts off sharply when Ben strides past without even a glance.
Her eyes meet Rey's, the curiosity finally breaking through. Rey gives her a tentative smile which isn't returned.
More heads lift from their computers throughout the bullpen. A man in a fitted black suit with neatly cropped fire-red hair is stepping out of one of the offices when Ben and Rey breeze past him. He stiffens in surprise.
"Excuse me," he says sourly, heeling after them.
Ben stops so abruptly Rey almost crashes into him. He spins around. "What do you want?"
"You aren't allowed to bring visitors up here," says the red-haired man. His face is cold and full of loathing.
This must be the coworker, then, Rey guesses. Ben's particular nemesis. She shifts out of the way of the two of them, glancing out at the bullpen where the other employees are focusing back on their work with an air of exasperation. These two butt heads often, she guesses.
"Are you going to report me?" Ben taunts. "Go ahead. Or do we need to revisit the hierarchy to know who's in charge?"
The man's eyes narrow. "You haven't even been here all day. You can't possibly have head."
"Heard what?" Ben demands.
"Nevermind." The man lifts a calculating brow. Then, his attention snapping to Rey, he adds with distaste, "Your visitor doesn't have a guest clearance badge. Get her out."
"You might want to go to the bathroom and check for that stick, Hux," Ben sighs, "I think it's migrating further up there."
He turns sharply on his heel once more and continues on his way. Rey follows, glancing behind her to see the red-haired man glowering after them.
"He seems fun," she decides.
"The life of the party, for sure."
They finally stop at the corner office. Ben opens the door and motions her in. Clicking it shut behind them, he immediately goes to all the interior windows and shuts the blinds, cutting off the dozens of curious eyes watching them.
It's a fine office, with big exterior windows and a huge desk with a dark glass surface. A sleek Empire-branded computer squats there, modern and minimalist in its familiar black design. There's an expensive chair, a sideboard with a printer sitting on top, and an abstract series of reclaimed wood pieces making a polygonal shape on the one window-less wall. Also a coat rack behind the door.
"Hmm," she remarks softly, looking around. "You're right. Not much here that gives it a personal touch, is there?"
"I told you," Ben says.
She trots over to his chair and sinks down into it, giving it a spin. "It's nice, though. Fancy."
"I guess." He watches her, a grin toying at the corner of his mouth. "Nicer now though."
She shoots him a little side-eye, but he's already walking towards her. He leans over her, bringing his computer to life and tapping in a password.
"Do you want me to move?" she asks, watching his fingers fly over the keys. "I didn't mean to be in your way—"
"No," he says.
His face is very close to hers. Heat floods through her, and she wonders what would happen if she just leaned up and brushed her lips to his cheek. The thought makes her feel wild, and a little silly, because she's never really had these kinds of feelings before and she isn't really sure what to do with them. It's confusing enough that they should be budding to life for him, of all people. And for his own part, Ben seems nervous about whatever feelings he has towards her. No, not nervous. He said scared.
Ben accesses a cloud file entitled resignation letter and sends it to the printer. Then he straightens and moves towards the door again, taking off his jacket to hang it on the coat hanger. He adjusts his shirt, tousles and then smooths his hair, and turns to Rey for assessment.
Since he's giving her the opportunity, Rey takes a generous moment to appraise him. She admires his hard lines and sharp edges, softened by a paradoxical boyish charm lurking beneath the well-formed man. A hot ember glows to life deep in her belly, and she draws in a slow, deep breath to steady herself. Then she flits her gaze back to his and gives him an appreciative smile.
"Yep. Good."
He nods, apparently satisfied, and goes to grab his letter off the printer. "If I'd known my office could feel like somewhere I actually wanted to be I'd have dragged you here a long time ago."
She laughs. "I'm not sure I'd have liked that. This place is creepy."
"It is," he admits. "It doesn't suit you."
He looks around as if searching for something else. Rey leans forward, propping her elbows on his desk.
"Hurry," she urges gently. "I'd like to get out of here and find some way to celebrate."
Ben's eyes flash with a hungry gleam and the corner of his mouth curls into a little grin. "It won't take long."
With that, he turns and heads out the door, closing it behind him with a soft click.
Rey is alone.
She doesn't let herself relax yet. Doesn't let the day wash over her in a tide of swirled emotions. There will be time for that later, when she's back in bed at Poe and Zorri's and everything that has happened replays through her mind. She doesn't know what she'll tell her friends about this day. They won't understand why her vexing obstacle has become something more than a friend. It will be too hard to explain it to them too, because she doesn't really understand it herself.
Maybe she won't tell them anything.
Right now it doesn't matter. She's in an unfamiliar place, possibly a very dangerous one, and she's far too curious to just sit idly and wait. So she stands up and pokes around his office, opening the cupboards and drawers of the sideboard and the desk, putting together a tiny collection of his knick-knacks. A blue pocket knife with Starfighter inscribed on it. A fancy fountain pen and modest assortment of ink vials. And a single stress relief ball. Everything else is branded Empire stuff or standard office supply.
It's just as well, she decides, surveying her findings and tucking them into her pockets. Ben only has a motorcycle. Not much room for a big box of belongings.
She examines the reclaimed wood on the walls and decides, after some deliberation, that it's meant to be a book shelf. But there isn't a single book on it. She considers the implications of this, that bookworm Ben who prefers to drink coffee in a veritable literary hoard, won't bring any to work. Not even boring business books. He doesn't even bring any decor to put on the shelves and make his own.
The minutes tick away, and idleness starts to make her restless. She checks her phone. Rose has sent her a selfie with a beaten up old Buick asking if Rey is jealous she's not at work today. It makes her chuckle. Finn has sent her a gif of a cat dozing off over its own food bowl.
Eventually she wanders over and puts on Ben's jacket just to amuse herself. It smells good. Like fresh air and new leather and the faint trace of cologne. It fits her poorly. She laughs at how ridiculously large it is. She grabs the handholds at what should be the waist and wonders what it would feel like if the roles were reversed and Ben were the one holding onto her while she piloted them through the city. He'd dwarf her. If she took a corner too tightly and threw him, he'd drag her off with no effort at all.
What would really be fun, she thinks, would be to race him. A remote country road, him on a bike, her on her own, and nothing but open asphalt ahead of them. She'd skunk him, she's pretty sure. But the exhilaration of flying through the air with him — that would be a different kind of thrill. If she had to show him her world, it might not have quiet little coffee shops or mystical woods.
She puts the jacket back. As she's hanging it up, though, she notices a purchase tag still attached the inside collar. She blinks, surprised. Is Ben in the habit of leaving his tags on this clothes?
Not sure what to make of it, she shrugs it off and goes back to his desk. Nudging the mouse brings the computer up, timed out and back to the login screen. She taps in the password she watched Ben put in earlier and starts snooping.
There aren't many files saved onto the computer itself. His cloud storage is pretty spartan too, everything neatly organized into folders within folders. She doesn't find much interesting. A lot of business stuff she doesn't care about, an email exchange with an angry Hux blaming him for the most recent litigations some big wig has brought against the company. There is a list of department heads and their most devastating secrets. This one entertains her briefly.
Buried deep in some folders she finds an app entitled HawkEye. Mostly bored and a little curious, she opens it up. An innocuous box pops up on the screen asking her which file name she'd like to open. She chooses a random one, and a live camera feed opens up on the screen. It's an external view, outside Empire itself, on some public street.
"Sneaky," Rey says softly.
Because she has spent enough time on this particular street to recognize it immediately. The Westfalia is even sitting in the lot, waiting for her to come finish it. Han hasn't left for the day yet.
So that's how Ben has been keeping tabs on his father without missing endless days of work. And also how he noticed her coming around, she realizes.
But is he only watching the shop? There are other file names. She opens another and the camera feed shows a marina. A third opens to — yep. A short, single-level apartment building, shabby and aging. Chandrillan Gardens it says in overly ornate cursive letters wrought in iron on the pale brick side of one of the apartments. Rey quickly takes out her phone again, this time to type the name into a search. It pulls up with an address.
This is probably where Han lives.
At first, she is triumphant. Ben tried to prevent her from finding this information, but inadvertently led her to it himself. The version of her that is still facing off against him in that tunnel, frustrated and powerless, gloats with the subversion. But her better self, the one that has spent all day showing him pieces of her heart and being given pieces of his own in return, churns in dread.
She closes out of the surveillance app and swivels the chair to look out at the world now fading to twilight.
Before she had this piece of information, she could defer her responsibility, putting it off with the excuse that she couldn't catch Han yet. But now she can. She knows she can. Ben is comfortable. He might even drop her off tonight and just go home, not thinking twice about following her to make sure she stays away from his old man. Because what kind of heartless monster could still take his father away after the kind of day they've had?
But if she could be the heartless monster, she could put an end to this tonight. She could go to Han's home and surprise him. She could put him in her car and drive all the way back to Colorado. Back to Griff, with his big payout and big promises. Back to Mando and Dyn, which is where, even now, her heart aches to be.
It would mean leaving her friends.
And worse, it would mean hurting Ben.
Rey shudders. She wishes she'd never messed with his computer, never acquired this knowledge. She could simply tell Ben she found it. She could tell him and admit her dilemma and then the choice would be taken away from her and she wouldn't have to make it because he'd make it for her. Because however close they've gotten this afternoon, she knows he isn't capable of just rolling over and letting her take his father. He is still a little kid clinging to the hope that if his dad is back, it means they have a chance to reforge the relationship.
The door jostles and Rey springs out of the chair in alarm.
Ben comes through, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with exhilaration.
"Ben," Rey says, blinking in surprise. "That took longer than I thought."
She comes around to the other side of the desk. He meets her, swallowing the distance between them in two quick strides. His huge hands find her waist and he gently pushes her backwards until she bumps up against the desktop and sits down onto it.
"Rey," he breathes, and she can feel he is trembling.
Wow, quitting has really gotten him all worked up, hasn't it? Not that she minds — his hands feel really good on her, and the way his gaze drops feverishly to her lips makes her flush white-hot.
"Um," she says, trying to drag her mind back into focus. "Does this mean —" she has to suck in a deep breath. He is so close and so full of intensity that it makes her head spin. "Does this mean it went well?"
Somehow Ben has gotten himself between her knees, and his eyes are practically glowing with a victorious gleam. He looks so alive. But she has to lean back a little on her hands to give herself some breathing room because this sudden fire in him is heating her by its sheer proximity.
"Yes, it went well. Rey, he's gone."
Her nose wrinkles, brow drawing together in confusion. "Who?"
"Snoke."
"Your boss?"
"Yes. The CEO fired him right there in front of me."
"Okay..." she waits for the rest of the information. Clearly he wants some kind of reaction from her, some congratulations or elation, but she honestly doesn't know what to make of this news. "So...you can just walk away without any strings attached?"
He shakes his head. "No, I'm not leaving."
"What?" she chokes.
"Apparently there has been a big shakeup happening all day. A lot of people have been fired. Department heads are being shifted around. When I got there to resign, the CEO was already furious with Snoke, and my letter made it worse. He fired Snoke and promoted me to his position. Director of Operations. I'd be directly beneath the CEO himself. This is the opportunity of a lifetime."
He's so excited, and Rey wants to be excited for him, but there is a sinking feeling inside her and her skin crawls. "But...I thought you hated it here?"
"That doesn't matter," he says, shaking his head.
"So your boss was the problem and things will be better without him? Because I thought you were tired of being so isolated here. Will that change now?"
Ben realizes she isn't celebrating with him, and his hands fall away from her. He takes a step back, lips pulling into a frown. "Rey, this is the greatest moment of my career."
"A career...you don't want..." she says slowly, easing herself off the desk, trying to understand. Has she merely made the same mistake his family did? Had she prescribed a future for him without asking if that's what he wanted? She tries to remember back to the day before, at the auto shop, talking by his car. He had said he was miserable here, hadn't he? And today too, right?
"Maybe I do want it," he says, almost defensive now. The feverish light in his eyes is cooling, disappointed by her lack of enthusiasm. "I've been trained my whole life for a career in this field. It's finally paying off."
Rey cannot wrap her head around what is happening. Empire is one of the biggest companies in the entire world, and Ben could be at the veritable helm of it, a powerful force for good and ill. It is a once-in-a-lifetime chance, and certainly the capstone of any career. But Rey chafes at the thought of it. She feels sick inside. Like she's watching him reach for a prize just beyond his grasp on the other side of a huge chasm. She wants to save him before he falls in, but she doesn't know how. Not if this is what he wants.
"Rey," he says, making another desperate attempt to get her on board. "This might be the answer."
"What answer?"
"For — for us. Forget my father, and your bounty hunter. Forget the auto shop. Forget everything you've been using to figure out who you're supposed to be. This is it. It's here before us. You don't have to do any of those things. Come work with me here. I can put you in any position you want. We need someone with your talents on our R&D team. Stay here in Seattle and make a new life for yourself."
Rey winces, flinching away from this idea with every fiber of her soul. "That's ridiculous, Ben, you know that. I don't have any qualifications for employment here. I don't have a degree if anything. Your employees would riot to have someone so poorly prepared for the position dumped on them."
"We can pay for your education," he says offhandedly. "You aren't poorly prepared for anything."
"No. I can't work for you." She shakes her head. "That's...a power dynamic I can't get into with you."
This thing where they are both adversaries and allies, diametrically opposed in the business of his father but inexorably drawn together in shared trauma and the hunger for family — that dynamic is complicated enough. Now these new budding feelings, whatever they are, have salted the mixture. She cannot put herself into a situation where he has professional power over her like that. She knows, instinctively, it will ruin everything.
Besides, the sad truth of it is that Ben is only a recent fascination in her life — even if he is an unusually powerfully one — and Mando and Dyn have been her heart's yearning for much longer. She cannot abandon them to move here permanently. To work for a company she morals objects to on every level. Just to be near a man who is the same kind of messed up that she is?
"This is the biggest moment of my life," he says. "I want you here to be part of it."
"I can't," Rey says again, helpless and miserable.
"I have these feelings." Ben's voice drops to something more gentle now. He shakes his head. "For you. I don't know what it means, or why it is. I shouldn't. But I feel better when I'm with you, and I don't want that to go away. I want you to have a future that is worthy of you. A job that is worthy of your talents. People who deserve your selfless love. I think that can happen here. Please, Rey. Let go of the wreckage. Build something new, with me."
A shudder works through her, an instinct inside her screaming to reassure him. That she feels the same way. That he isn't alone. That she isn't going anywhere, even if she doesn't support his mad notion of bringing her to work for him. But she can't do any of that. Instead she bites her lip and squeezes back a stab of pain, saying with all the ache inside her:
"If this promotion what you want, and if this is what will bring you happiness, then I am happy for you. But I can't stay here, Ben. Not here in this company, and not here in this city. I have to honor the contract I accepted. I won't go back on my word. This...this is the way."
Shock and dismay transform him into a young boy momentarily, and then betrayal turns him back into a man at once. "You're still going to arrest my father?"
"Ben..." she pleads. She needs him to understand.
He backs away from her further, and vanished is the person she spent the day with. In his place is the wraith from the tunnel, the icy figure of a person who looks at her with coldness. "Clearly we have misunderstood each other."
Rey's throat hurts and her head pounds. She wants to get away from this place.
"I have to go..." she whispers, soft and sad. "Can you take me home?"
"I'd rather not," he says stiffly. "I'll have my secretary call you a cab."
Without another word, he turns sharply and sweeps out of the office.
Silence engulfs her. Rey wipes at her eyes, embarrassed to find them wet with unspilled tears. She tries to compose herself, but the throbbing, painful sensation inside her is growing and her whole body is shaking. She has to get out of here quickly before she breaks down in front of all these strangers.
Outside Ben's office, the bullpen employees pretend to be working, but she can see their still curious glances flashing up to her as she hurries across to the secretary's desk.
The woman gives Rey a plastic smile. "I was instructed to secure you transportation. It is already done. You may wait downstairs in the lobby. Your town car should be arriving in a few minutes."
Rey nods, unable to risk a trembling voice to thank her. She enters the elevator instead. A couple floors down, a trio of people get on. They ignore her, whispering softly and conspiratorially to each other the gossip of Snoke's firing and massive restructuring at the top. They don't speak flatteringly of Ben. It only hurts Rey more to hear them, knowing that she is abandoning him to his lonely throne, feared and hated instead of loved.
The CEO, the big fat spider at the center of this web, has certainly spun his careful snare for Ben, and caught himself the one who would get away.
Down in the lobby, Rey chews her lip and tries to think of anything that will save her from tears — car parts, outrageous fugitive recovery situations, whatever bits of politics she knows of, Finn's latest romantic interest, anything.
It barely works, and she manages to hang on until a sleek black car pulls up and the driver announces that he is there to take her home. She gets in the back seat, and only there, leaning her head against the doorframe, does she let her heart break.
A/N:
I'M SORRY! Don't hate me. Many of you saw it coming, and you were right. But remember, I promise, I promise a happy resolution to this little bit of angst now!
Thank you so, so, so much for your reviews. They make my whole day. I will get to some comment replies on the next chapter, I'm just impatient to put this one up now since it's already taken me so long.