A/N: Written for writing-wife83. A bit of spoilery angst for SW: The Rise of Skywalker. MCD.
As she lays there, feeling her life force fleeing her body, pouring all that she is and was and ever might be into her son's soul, knowing as she does so that she's leaving behind the world of the flesh and maybe, just maybe (because there are no guarantees in this universe) entering into the world of the Force, she finds time, a moment, to wonder…what if.
What if her son had remained Ben Solo and never become Kylo Ren. She sees him growing up happy, whole, running off with his father on questionable adventures, standing staunchly by her side as they help guide the New Rebellion into victory, finding love and friendship, marrying, fathering children for her to love and cherish as much as she cherished (cherishes) him.
What if, what if, what if…
What if Luke hadn't reacted as he did when he sensed the pull of the Dark Side on her son.
What if they'd sensed the damage Snoke was doing, the strings he was pulling, the behind-the-scenes manipulations they'd been so blind to in their son's life.
What if he hadn't killed his father (oh that pain, still so fresh, mustn't allow it to distract her), what if he'd accepted Han's help, taken his hand, allowed himself to be returned to the family fold and undo all the hurtful, hateful damage he'd been twisted and misshapen into causing.
What if he'd met Rey sooner.
Too many might-have-been lives, too many missteps taken, including she knows, unflinching in sight of her own mistakes and blindnesses, by herself.
She hopes hopes hopes it's not too late to save her son from her many missteps, from her fear and unwillingness to face the deepest truth of all, the one she's finally confronted after loss after loss after loss: that the only way to save him, her Ben, is to give up on herself. To take that final step, to make the sacrifice she now realizes is necessary.
Does it make her a bad mother, not realizing what she needed to do until now? (Another distraction, let it go, let it go, you're making up for any bad decisions and false steps now). Has she lived a life with too much attachment to the material in spite of her knowing, deep in her mortal flesh and bones, the simple truth of Master Yoda's words to her brother?
Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter.
Has she lived a life in fear despite telling herself that hope was the only thing keeping her alive?
Well, if she has, she will no longer.
She pours all of that knowledge, everything of herself, into her wordless seeking, all her regrets and hopes and most of all, her love. She gives everything of herself, everything, everything, and she feels him, there, distant, so lost and lonely, and she touches him, her luminous, beautiful boy, and she feels his pain and his regrets and confusion and she gives him more and more and all until there is nothing left to give.
Nothing but hope.
And that, she gladly, eagerly, gives him. That last, most fragile, sacred part of any soul.
And she goes into the darkness peacefully, knowing that she's gifted her son with what he needs to finally find his way out of his own darkness.