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Rey tries to force herself to sleep, but she can't. She clutches her doll and buries her face in her pillow. She pokes at her breasts, wondering if they feel sore. Kind of. But maybe they always do. She can't even remember.

She wonders what her mother felt when she got pregnant with Rey. Did she regret it? Did she want a baby? Were they trying, or was Rey an accident? Was she young, as young as Rey is now, or grown-up?

If Rey does turn out to be pregnant, what would her mother think, if she knew? Does she even remember Rey?

Why did you forget me?

No. She can't think that. They remember her. They're trying to get back to her. She believes that.

Tears leak from Rey's eyes.

Ben gets home first and bursts into her room unannounced. "Rey!"

"Hey," she croaks, rolling over.

"How are you feeling?"

"Blech," she admits. She gagged once again, but now her stomach seems to be settled. Yet she's still not sure it won't come back. If it doesn't, maybe it really is just a stomach bug. Rey's afraid to hope.

"Can I do anything?"

Rey shakes her head.

"Sleep," Ben orders. He shuts her curtains for her and sits on the bed, fingers rubbing circles up and down her spine, stroking her hair, lulling her into a doze.

You would still be there for me, wouldn't you? She's so used to people leaving. Why? Why did you leave?

No. She can't think that. They're coming back. She knows it.

Rey's palm presses her stomach. If she is pregnant, would she leave her child? Why?

Stop asking that! The voice sounds like Unkar's in her head. Rey flinches. Ben pulls her closer. She drifts off, and when she wakes up, Ben's gone and Finn's shaking her.

"Hey," she says groggily.

"I told him his mom wanted him," Finn whispers. He slips her a plastic pharmacy bag. "Do you want me with you?"

"Finn, it's a pee test."

"I'll wait outside," he says. "Feeling any better?"

She nods. "My stomach's settled a bit."

"Good." He squeezes her shoulder. "Good luck."

"What about your date with Rose?" Rey blurts out.

Finn smiles. "It's in an hour."

Rey nods and pries herself off the bed. The doll fell onto the floor while she was sleeping, and she reaches down and puts it back on her pillow. Rey heads to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She can hear the TV down below and clanks in the garage. Anxiety tingles in her wrists. Rey takes a deep breath.

Please.

She doesn't know what she's begging for, or whom.

Rey rests the rest on the counter, washing her hands. She peers into the mirror to distract herself, focusing on her hazel eyes, her freckles, her rumpled dark hair. She wonders whether her eyes are her mother's, her nose her father's, her lips her grandmother's.

I just want to see them. She thinks of the photos lining the Organa-Solo mantle. Luke looks like his father, Anakin. Leia looks like a combination of Anakin and his wife, Padmé, and Ben—he looks so much like both his mother and his father.

Maybe she looks entirely like one of them. A mini-mom, or mini-dad. Rey traces her jawline.

She wonders what kind of features a child between her and Ben would have. His hair? Her eyes?

She peeks down at the test.

Two stripes.

Pink.

Definitely there.

Rey's windpipe closes. She grabs the test, grabs the kit, rereads the instructions. Panic surges.

She stashes the test back inside the box and wraps it in the bag again.

I'm pregnant.

I'm pregnant.

Rey stumbles out of the bathroom. Finn leans casually against the wall, tapping at his phone. He switches it off, looking up.

Her face must be obvious, because he immediately grabs her arm, dragging her into his room. His jaw hangs open. "Holy shit. Holy shit."

"What am I going to do?" Rey whispers.

Finn shakes his head. "Holy hell."

She wipes at her eyes. The lump in her throat feels as if it's choking her.

Finn grabs her in a hug. "It's gonna be okay, Rey. Whatever you choose. I'm going to be here, all right? I'm going to support you. We all will, okay? For all his faults, Ben isn't gonna ditch you. You're not going to be alone, okay? We're here. We're here."

She cries, her face pressed against his chest. Why didn't we use condoms?

Was this how my mom felt when she found out she was carrying me? Did she want to escape from me from the very first day? From before, even? Am I like her?

What's wrong with that? She's coming back.

Why do I want to escape my baby? Why am I a terrible person like that?

Come up to my room, Rey texts.

Ben doesn't need to be asked twice. He scrambles up the stairs, hoping she's okay and not still sick. He brought her soup for dinner. Canned, but still, Mom thought to pick it up. He wonders if his parents might catch on with him wanting to help her. Who is he kidding?

"Hey," Ben says, slipping into her room. "My uncle was pissy, but he'll get over it—" He freezes.

Rey's eyes are bloodshot. She flexes her fingers, spreading them on the bedspread. A plastic bag sits next to her.

"Do you need me to get my mom?" Ben ventures. "Are you—"

"I'm pregnant."

"What?" The words don't sink in at first. He doesn't understand—how—Rey—Ben gapes at her.

She presses her lips together. "I don't know what to do. It's positive."

"A—test?" he croaks out. He staggers towards her, dropping onto the bed.

Rey nods, reaching into the plastic bag. She withdraws a test. "Two stripes."

"False positives are possible," Ben manages. "When was your last—menstrual cycle?"

"Two months ago. I skip all the time; it's normal for me."

Of course. She's pretty thin. Ben gulps. It's true, they weren't using protection—how could I have been so stupid? It's his fault. He should have been more careful—he shouldn't have taken the risk—Rey's future is more at risk than his is because of stupid fucking society but that's not fair and it's not right and Ben isn't going to let that happen. "Okay," he says. "Okay. What do you want to do?"

Rey holds her hands out. She shakes her head. Her chest heaves with repressed sobs.

Ben reaches out and holds her. "I'll be here. No matter what, okay, Rey?" He pulls back and brushes her brown strands off her face. "It's my problem as much as it is yours." He curses. "I'm so sorry, Rey. I'm so sorry." I'm the worst. I'm a failure. And I'm poisoning her.

"I don't regret it," Rey manages. "Sleeping with you."

"I regret not using protection," Ben says with a snort.

Rey scowls. Okay, apparently that wasn't the right thing to say. But he has no idea what the right thing to say is. Are there internet articles about this?

"If you want an abortion, I'll pay for it and go with you. If you want to have it, I'll marry you. I'll—"

"I want," Rey interrupts, her voice shaking. "I want to—have the baby—but I want to have a future too—why, why am I—why—what if my parents left me for the same reasons? What if I was holding them back? I know they're coming back, but—"

Ben swallows. He takes her hand, studying her still flat stomach. "Anyone who thinks you're holding them back isn't worth it."

"But they're my parents."

Desperation floods him, crushing him, drowning him. "And you know what happened to them, don't you? You've always known."

Rey flinches. "I have no idea."

"Really? I saw your face when you drank the wine cooler. I—"

"What, are you saying I think they're alcoholics who abandoned me to go off and drink together, and they're probably dead?"

Ben swallows. He nods.

Rey shakes her head wildly. "That isn't true!"

"I won't be like that," he promises, grasping her hands. "I won't abandon you—or our kid, if you want to have it—I—"

"Ben, you're a mess," she chokes out. "How are you going to help raise a kid?"

"We can run away, get married—my parents we can't tell—"

"You live in a delusional fantasy," Rey replies.

He flinches. Something cold coils in his stomach. "Rey—"

"You're not ready," Rey croaks out. "And I want you to be—I need you to be—but you're not, you're not taking responsibility—"

"I just said I'd—"

"You can't be a parent until you figure out your shit with your own parents," Rey says. She rolls over, curling up in a fetal position. Her shoulders shake.

He doesn't know what to say, or do, so he just sits there. He can't tell his parents. He just can't. They already hate him. They'll blame him.

I'm weak. I'm so weak.

He can't face them.

For Rey?

Help me, anyone.

"What's wrong?" Rose asks as Finn tries to focus on their date. The eggplant parmesan tastes like sour glue and ash in his mouth.

"Sorry," Finn says. He's still not good at this dating thing. He just knows that he likes Rose, and she for some reason likes him, and he wants to be happy with her but he's never once had a license to be happy in his entire life, and it's strange. It's scary.

"You don't have to be sorry," Rose says, cocking her head to the side. She sets her fork down and leans over. "You can just tell me, or say you don't want to. Either way it's fine. You don't have to be perfect for me to like you."

Finn snorts. "Thanks?"

"What's wrong?" Rose asks again, quietly. She pushes her glass back.

Finn swallows. He reaches out, taking her hand. It's warm. It gives him strength. "You can't tell anyone, okay? Not even Poe. Not your parents. No one."

Rose blinks. "Promise."

Finn exhales. "Rey's pregnant."

Rose's jaw drops. Her eyes bug out. She grabs that water glass with her free hand and chugs it. She coughs. "What?"

Finn keeps his voice low. "She's pregnant."

"And—Kylo's the—"

Finn nods.

"Shit." Rose groans, leaning forward. "Well, it's gotta be early, right? They've been together like a month."

"Yeah." Finn shakes his head. "I don't know what they're going to do."

"She was really sick earlier," Rose says sadly. "I can't even imagine."

"What would your parents do?" Finn asks, meeting her eyes. "If you were pregnant. Would they be angry, or—one of my foster siblings—well, we weren't really like siblings, not like Rey and I are—got pregnant when I was seven, and she was kicked out. My foster mother told her to get out the moment she found out. She was crying." If you messed up, you were gone. He learned that early on. And he learned that he wasn't like the others. He couldn't just accept it.

Every time someone hurt, he hurt.

For the longest time he wondered what was wrong with him. But looking now at Rose, and seeing the tears in her eyes—tears for him, tears for Rey, tears for that girl whose name Finn can't even remember and whom she's never met—he wonders for the first time if it wasn't a bad thing, to be different.

"They wouldn't be happy," Rose admits. "But they would still love me. I don't think they'd kick me out—they'd probably help me explore my options, not enable me, but give me what I needed to make the right decision." She lowers her head. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Finn says roughly. "There aren't enough good parents in the world."

Rose smiles at him. "I think Rey'd be a good one. If she wants to be."

Finn sighs.

They get dessert—coconut cake—to go, and take it to Rose's house. Her parents are meeting with the police, and then hopefully going out to dinner themselves.

Rose lets him in, and he studies the photos of Rose and Paige on the mantle. In every one Rose clings to Paige, beaming up at her old sister like she's her hero.

Wake up, Paige, Finn thinks. Rose needs you.

Well, maybe not needs. Because Rose is strong. But she wants you.

They share the piece of cake, and Rose wonders if she should text Rey and offer to help. Finn agrees.

"You know," Rose says, head lolling back on the couch. "If you wanted to talk about your childhood more, you could."

Finn stiffens. He glances at her.

"You often seem to avoid talking about it," Rose says. "You don't have to. But if you want to, I'll listen. Whatever you want to do. You don't have to be afraid that I'll get disgusted or think you aren't worth anything."

He snorted, leaning closer. He can see the pores in her skin, and he remembers her fighting for that child in the casino, even though that meant they were caught. He remembers her turning him in. You just want to protect. And you're scared.

"We're the same, you know," Rose says, smile wobbling.

"You don't have to be perfect," Finn tells her. But to him, she's perfect—perfect for him. But flawed. Scared. He reaches his hand out, pressing his palm against hers, interlacing their fingers. "You don't have to be afraid."

"Neither do you," Rose promises him.

"I don't even know how to live like that," he admits.

"I think that's a start," says Rose, her hand cupping his face. "Admitting that." She manages a smile. "You don't have to be perfect to be loved—and that's—seeing you helped me learn that. Well, I'm still learning that. After Paige, I—I wanted to be—I wanted to carry her expectations—I can't—"

He presses his forehead against hers. "You're enough, Rose Tico."

Her eyes, glowing umber, meet his. She leans up, and he delves down, lips meeting hers just briefly at first, and then deeper, and then he tastes the garlic and the sugar mingled in her mouth and it doesn't matter, because there's also the taste of her, Rose. Her hands cling to his back.

We're still trying to pretend we're brave.

We're not. And we are. When I'm with you. If I can make you brave, I don't know, but I—I want to. You make me believe. You give me faith.

His hands move down from her thick, glossy hair to her neck, to her shoulders. They slide lower. He pulls back.

Rose pants. She looks at him and nods. His fingers land on her breasts. They're soft, even though the fabric of her red shirt. Rose's lips move down his neck. She unbuttons the collar of his shirt, mouth kissing his chest. "Hold on." She pulls back again, and lifts her satin blouse over her head.

Holy shit. Finn gapes. She gulps.

"We're not ending up like Rey and Ben," Finn manages.

Rose blinks. "You want to go all the way?"

"If you do," Finn says. "I—we can stop here, or—"

"There are condoms in the bathroom," Rose says. She swallows, pulling her hair over her shoulder and twisting it. "I've never done that before."

He shakes his head. "Neither have I. So it probably wouldn't be very good."

Rose snorts. "Everyone's gotta learn though, right?"

"True," he admits.

"And if I have to learn, I think you're a safe person to learn with," Rose continues. "I don't think you'd hurt me. I know you wouldn't."

Finn nods. His gaze travels from her face, the shape of the moon, down to her chest bound in a black lace bra, to her soft stomach and the black jeans cinched around her waist. Heat rushes through him. "Do you want to go to your room?"

Rose reaches for his hand and pulls him off the couch. They head upstairs, and Rose checks the time. "My parents won't be home for another hour." She ducks in the bathroom and comes back with a foil wrapper, tossing it at him.

Rose's room is small, with a sloped ceiling and diagrams of trucks covering the walls. Her bed is small too, but it's doable. He thinks.

She looks up at him, and he realizes just how much she trusts him. You—I love you. This liquid warmth inside him, spilling over all his organs, the way his past both matters and yet doesn't shackle him, the way she talks to him—is this what love feels like?

They kiss, deeper this time. Rose helps Finn out of his shirt. His heart pounds. He reaches for her jeans. "Do you want to?" he asks again. Because he does. He so does. I love you.

Rose nods. "I do."

He unbuttons her jeans and slides them off of her. She unbuckles his pants, and he shrugs them off. She reaches behind her to undo her bra, giggling because he can't undo the clasp.

When he starts, he asks if she's okay, and she nods. "Any pain?"

"A little, but not bad," Rose pants as he waits. "Okay. You can—keep going."

They move in tandem, him copying her movements or maybe she's coping his, he doesn't know, and it doesn't matter. They move together, and his lips kiss all over her, and hers kiss all over him, and he feels wanted and treasured and she, she is his treasure, and she is beautiful, and she is a person just like he is, flawed and hopeful, and she shares that hope, and he—he's so grateful.

When he finishes, he rolls off her, panting.

"I liked that," Rose says beside him.

He turns to face her. "Me too."

"No wonder Rey and Ben did it so much," Rose remarks. He snorts, and she laughs too.

Headlights beam through the room.

"Shit!" Rose leaps to her feet, scrambling back into her clothes. "They're home early!"

Finn cringes, fumbling to grab his pants and his shirt.

"Inside out!" Rose hisses.

Finn switches it. They make it out of the bedroom and down the stairs by the time Rose's parents enter.

"Hello!" says Ms. Tico. "You two have a good date?"

Rose nods. "The restaurant was delicious." She gives his hand a squeeze, and he knows that this, this is real.

It's not a fantasy anymore.