—Chapter 13: Cleansed—

The next morning, Ben awoke to the light streaming in through the open doorway—Rey had been here, and must have left without closing it. So I guess I didn't dream all of that, he thought. He twisted himself on his bedroll, trying to escape the offending rays, but winced when he rolled onto his injured shoulder, another reminder that the night before had not gone particularly well for him. Stubborn Rey. Stubborn for making him go out. Stubborn for not keeping out of it when he was attacked by moronic drunks. Stubborn for not leaving it alone about the healing. Her stubbornness would be the death of him.

Since there was no way to remain comfortably in bed with things the way they were, he sat up and took in the state of his room. The trunk was wide open, the chairs were in odd places, and the table was littered with medical supplies. Beyond the general disarray, there was a hole blasted into the front wall of his cottage. Burying his head in his hands, he resolved to take some much needed time to himself.

He very deliberately did not look for Rey, shutting his mind off from whatever signals he may have otherwise passively received from her. He just gathered up a change of clothes, a towel, and a bar of soap, and headed for the lake. The water glistened peacefully, a stark contrast to its state from the night before, as a half-drowned Psadan flailed miserably at its surface.

He walked up to the lake's edge and looked east toward the rising sun. Sighing, he unbuttoned his pants and stripped them off, folding them carefully and setting them down in the dry grass. Wading into the cleansing water, he got in to where it was deep enough that he could fully submerge himself. Ben momentarily hesitated before dropping below the surface, realizing the water could contaminate his wound, but found that he just didn't care. If it got infected, there was always bacta spray.

The water was cool against his skin, relaxing to his muscles and frayed nerves. He dunked himself in the lake, remaining submerged a few seconds, feeling his hair swirl around his head. His shoulder ached. Planting his feet in the sludgy lake bottom, he pushed himself up out of the water and whipped his hair back and out of his face. He rubbed his eyes to squeeze the last of the water from them, then looked to the shore where he'd left his bar of soap. To his surprise, there was Rey.

She was standing at the lake's edge next to where he had left his things, holding a sack. She stood watching him, and he stared back.

"What are you doing here? Didn't we say no training today?" he called to her.

"It's laundry day, and my cottage doesn't come with a lake. You're going to have to share."

He sank back down into the lake, his mouth below the water line, turned, and grumbled as he stroked his way slowly away from her.

Don't run from me, she projected at him.

He rose slightly out of the water, glancing at her over his shoulder as he called back to her, "I'm not running, I'd just like a little privacy."

She watched him retreat further. Steeling herself with resolve, she unfastened her pants, and slipped them down around her ankles, followed by her boots, arm wraps and tunic.

By the time she was down to her breast wraps and underpants, he was a fair distance away from the shore. She waded into the water after him, in nothing but her underclothes. Sensing the disturbance in the water, he finally halted his retreat and turned around to look for her. Only his head and the tops of his shoulders broke the water's surface.

She had only waded in up to her waist. She knew he could see her, but she was unconcerned with modesty, determined to confront him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, brow furrowed.

"I need a bath, too," she said plainly, continuing her advance toward him. He just watched her with apprehension.

She got in deep enough that her shoulders had almost dropped below the water's surface, and then suddenly, she fell under, flailing desperately. He could feel her panic, and swam over to help her, shoulder throbbing with pain. Reaching down, he grabbed her securely by the wrists, and hoisted her up.

She shook the water from her face, whipping her hair across her cheeks. Dangling from his grasp, she cried out with apparent alarm, "It's deep where you are!"

Then it dawned on him. "You can't swim, can you?" It was a rhetorical question. She looked dumbly up at him, water dripping from her chin and nose. "I swear, Rey, let's just add this to the litany of reasons why Jakku is a fetid hellhole that did nothing but hold you back."

He backed her up until he was sure her feet could again touch the lake bottom, and released her wrists. "I know I said no training today, but any simpleton should know how to swim," he said, resting his palm on her forehead and projecting the knowledge of how to stay afloat into her mind. "Got it?"

"I know how you do it now," she said.

"Good. After everything you've lived through, if drowning were what ultimately killed you, I'd write a scathing epitaph," he said, starting to turn away from her again.

She reached out for his wrist, stopping him mid-turn. "No, I mean I know how you did it, and I can do it too now. You didn't think I'd be able to, that I didn't feel it. But you're wrong."

He studied her face, trying to read what he could from it—so tempted to just look in her mind for answers. "What are you talking about?" he asked apprehensively.

She didn't answer. At this depth, Ben's shoulders were up out of the water as he stood before her. She reached toward his soaked gauze, tearing it from his body and releasing it into the water, letting it just float away. His wound was hideous, ragged and angry with inflammation, and she couldn't hold back a pained expression as she examined it. She looked into his eyes, and he cautiously returned her stare. Her left hand settled on his good shoulder to steady herself, and her right hand moved to his injury.

Her fingers brushed lightly against the raw edges of the hole in his shoulder, and he wrinkled his nose in discomfort, but did not withdraw. She took a step closer to him and leveled her palm confidently to the wound, closing her eyes. His heart beat rapidly in his chest as his shoulder began to burn with the pain of healing. It got more intense as her ministrations worked their way to his bones. Flesh, blood vessels, and sinew knitted themselves back together in perfect form. Gradually, the burning sensation gave way to cooling, and her eyelids fluttered open, an intoxicated expression on her face. Even after she was finished, she did not move. Her hands remained on his shoulders, and she looked resolutely up at him.

"You have to use the Light, yes, but it's more than that," she said. She had no doubt he already understood what was required, but she continued her explanation anyway—he needed to know that she knew. "Healing is an act that is predicated on sacrifice, on your regard for others over and above yourself. It is a skill you access by calling up the wellspring of affection and love you have for others, that which drives you to put their needs before your own. It is something you can only do for others for whom you care deeply."

Her hands had been sliding gradually from his shoulders up to the curve of his neck, and her fingers combed back through his hair. His eyelids dipped from the calming sensation, and unconsciously, his hands moved once more to her waist, to the spot he first touched last night. Only this time, as his conscious mind caught up to what his unconscious mind was doing, he didn't jerk back. He stared down into her hazel eyes and pressed his hands firmly into her sides, drawing her up to meet him. Like a man dying of thirst at the edge of an oasis, he pressed his lips to hers in a fierce and greedy kiss.

Reciprocating, her arms stretched around his head, enveloping him. His own hands explored the curves of her body, one hand moving up her back to follow the trail of her spine, the other exploring lower, to the skin of her thigh where her underclothes came to a stop. He grabbed her firmly, breathing heavily as he pulled her closer.

They remained locked together in their watery embrace for several minutes, kissing and nuzzling, building up their courage. After a time, Rey pulled away just a bit, until she was nose to nose with her eager partner. "You've known all along haven't you? You felt it?" she asked, though it came out like a statement. She gave his formerly injured shoulder a squeeze.

He stared at her mouth, nodding and desperate.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" she asked him, genuine curiosity evident in her voice.

His gaze lifted from her mouth to her eyes, looking not just at her, but into her. "I didn't lie—I genuinely wasn't sure. I suspected… but I used that seed of doubt as an excuse not to have to tell you. I'm sorry."

It occurred to Rey that, had he explained what was necessary to heal someone, it would've been tantamount to confessing feelings for her that he wasn't comfortable making known. He was incredibly vulnerable to rejection, and his affection for her gave her a power over him that she hadn't realized she'd wielded. "Why didn't you just search my feelings? I'm pretty sure you'd have found reason to be up front with me."

He stared at her intensely, contemplating her question. Giving his head a light shake, he offered her a lopsided smile and only one word in reply. "Permission…"

A deep, warm smile stretched across her face at this admission from him, and she kissed him once more. He grabbed her backside, and she responded by wrapping her legs around him. One arm held his head firmly to her, and the other explored the contours of his upper body, tracing the line of his scar down to its end and moving around to his back from there.

Still holding her firmly against him, he walked them over toward the shore. As the buoyant force of the water subsided, she had to grip him harder to keep from slipping away. Once out of the lake, he dropped to his knees, setting her down gently in the soft grass as he hovered over her.

At that moment, from the pile of discarded clothing on the bank a few feet from them, the familiar beeping of her communicator in her pants pocket began to sound. Ben groaned, clutching at her possessively, pinning her with his body so she couldn't reach for the obnoxious device.

Reluctantly, she pushed at him. He groaned harder and pressed her down more insistently, but she had a persistence of her own. She shoved gently at his chest to lift him off of her.

"We really shouldn't ignore that. Not after last night," she said.

Aggrieved, he rolled off of her and flopped onto his back with a resigned sigh, staring up at the blue sky of Dendrokaan. He shifted his gaze from the sky to her backside as she crawled away from him, taking in the sight of her pale, glistening skin, flecks of dirt clinging to the backs of her thighs.

"It's Poe," she said, looking back at him.

"Ugh…" he frowned mournfully at his sudden loss of appetite.

Rey clicked the button in the center of the communicator and tried to greet Poe appropriately, given what had transpired at the conclusion of last night's festivities.

"Hi, Poe. How do you feel this morning?"

"Hi, Rey. Listen, I wanted to apologize for being such a jerk last night. I ruined everything, and I feel like an ass about it."

Tell him he's ruining your morning, too, Ben projected at her. She silently shushed him with a finger to her lips.

"Listen, it's okay. I know you probably didn't predict that I would want to bring Ben along, so I'm sorry if that took you by surprise," she tried to sound as understanding as possible. "Finn asked me if I would be bringing him, and I said I would try to convince him to come. Ben predicted it would go badly, but I didn't listen, and forced him to join us."

"Yeah, it's fine, really. You're at his place now, right? Having breakfast or something?"

She looked over at Ben, surveying her impatiently from the grass. "Uh, yeah, breakfast. Plus it's time to do laundry, and the lake is here," she added lamely. Ben rolled his eyes at her.

"Well, I was hoping to apologize to him too. Is he there?"

Oh please god, no, don't make me talk to him. I'll do anything…

"Uh, he stepped away for a minute. Probably had to go get something," she floundered.

Yes, I went to collect my sense of outrage at this untimely interruption.

Rey glared at Ben as Poe continued. "Uh, okay, well, will you please let him know how sorry I am? I was being an overprotective jerk, and I shouldn't have been so worried. I know you can take care of yourself."

"Thanks, Poe. I'll let him know when he comes back."

"Please do. And Rey, thank you for coming to see us yesterday. We—we really miss you."

If he wanted to murder me before, he'll want to eviscerate me if he ever finds out about this morning…

"I miss you guys too. I promise not to be away for too long." She glared at Ben reprovingly.

"Thank you. Goodbye, Rey."

"Bye, Poe," said Rey, as she switched off the communicator and threw it at Ben. "You are such a bastard! You're so distracting! That was a very sensitive conversation. You screwed me all up with your incessant running commentary," she chided him.

"I promise I'll try harder to give a damn," he said, reaching for her ankles. Seizing one, he dragged her back towards him, pulling her through the grass and climbing back on top of her, smoothing her hair away from her face and staring into her eyes.

Regarding her thoughtfully as he hovered over her, he added, in somewhat of a non sequitur, "It's how you initiate the visions, too."

"What, the Light?"

"Yes," he said. "One of the defining differences between the light and dark aspects of the Force is motivation: Are you being motivated by a desire to do something for yourself, or a desire to do something for others? Healing is an inherently selfless act, so until I had reconnected to the light aspect, I wasn't able to do it."

"And the visions?" she asked. "I'm fairly certain it wasn't my affection for you that sparked those first few," she added, smiling.

He was nuzzling her ear. "Mm, no, that was Snoke. As a wielder of the dark, his motivation was for himself—he connected our minds to suit his own needs. We remained connected after his death for each other's."

"Are you sure about that?" she asked.

"It's what I believe."

"Mmm," acknowledged Rey. That was good enough for her. Then, pulling away from him suddenly, she said, somewhat accusingly, "So wait, what does it mean that you were able to heal Finn?"

He looked at her and froze, a sinking feeling in his gut as he worried he'd done something wrong. Then, he exhaled in relief as he realized what she was doing. Dropping his forehead to hers, he said, "You dummy, I did that for you."

"Is that a fact?" she teased. "You're not going to be having visions of him now, are you?"

Ben gnawed on her shoulder playfully. "No comment. Though I should warn you, if you ever heal Poe, I'll—well, let's just say I won't be pleased."

Rey laughed. Snuggling into his neck and shoulder, she reveled in the closeness of their bodies. Ben was long, and heavy—she thought the weight of him pressing against her would be claustrophobic, but it was oddly comforting. Nevertheless, she couldn't shake the anxiety these new experiences were stirring in her. Though she welcomed the feelings the darkness allowed, encouraged even, the interruption from Poe had interfered with her momentum, and now she was self-conscious.

Ben was having the opposite reaction. In spite of the newness of what he was experiencing, he felt none of the nervousness he could sense in her. On the contrary, he had never felt a greater sense of rightness in his entire life. No part of what was happening left him with any reservations whatsoever.

However, it wasn't lost on him that Rey had spent most of her life just waiting. Waiting for her family to return to her, waiting for something to happen. This level of closeness, of attachment, coming at her so suddenly, was bound to trigger a good deal of uncertainty in her.

Out of sympathy for her emotional state, he pulled up and away from her slightly so he could just look at her. Her cheeks were red and ruddy. Her wet hair was splayed out across the grass where it wasn't sticking to her skin. She looked at him adoringly out from under her moist eyelashes, and for the briefest of moments, he questioned his reality.

This beautiful, nervous wreck was prepared to give everything to him. Most of his life, he scrabbled for everything he could get—every scrap of attention, affection, or affirmation, he had taken without hesitation, like he was a beggar collecting crumbs left behind after a feast. For once, he felt patience. The human being in front of him knew his past, understood what he was, and still she was giving of herself.

He would not be greedy.

"What's the matter?" she asked, noting his hesitation.

"Nothing at all," he answered.

"Well why did you stop? You're looking at me weird."

He smiled. "You're just too much for me, that's all." He closed the space between them, kissing her sweetly for several seconds before sitting up and staring out over the lake. "You came here to do your laundry, didn't you? Well, let's get to it. Your clothes won't wash themselves."

Rey was a bit perplexed, but she could tell from the look of contentment on his face that she'd done nothing wrong. The shift in his behavior was due to something going on inside of him, and she took it as a good sign. This was all new to them both, and frankly, she was a little relieved to be able to come up for air.

Ben stood up and offered her his hand. Taking it, she pulled herself up, and together, they walked the few steps toward their things. Slowly, their fingers pulled apart, and they began their chores in earnest.

The rest of their morning would proceed exactly as their mornings always did, except that this time, it was completely different.