Ben watches Rey shiver as they make their way back to the hotel, cheap pizza in their stomachs. "It's too cold for spring."
"Seriously," she agrees, flashing him a smile. "Do you think Finn and Poe and Jess and everyone are okay?"
Ben nods. We'll decide tomorrow. That was what he and Rey agreed on in the pizza place. Decide whether to go back, unearth their secrets and hope against hope that they can take down a monster, or run.
He knows what they'll both want to do. He wonders whether either of them can do it.
Rey glances at him as if she knows what he's thinking. She unlocks their room, and as soon as they're inside he grabs her in an embrace.
We have each other, at least.
Rey kisses him for several minutes, and then pulls back. "Let me take a shower first."
"First?" he questions. He's used to showering after. After Snoke. But last night, it hadn't even occurred to him to wash Rey off.
"Yeah." Rey pauses, her hand on the bathroom handle. "It does look like the fanciest shower I've ever seen." She smirks, and he laughs. "You could join me?" She bites her lip as if nervous as to how he'll react to the suggestion.
Join her? "Maybe." But a smile creeps across his face, and she pulls him inside the room, turning the faucet on.
Both of them undress and climb in. The water's warm, and the sticky, damp chill from the air washes away. Heat surges inside of Ben as he takes in the curves of Rey's legs, her hips and the lines of her neck. She's studying him, too, more than last night. There's nothing he can hide from her—the scar from an accident when he was eight, the weird skin moles, and he doesn't want to hide.
"Damn," Rey says. "Now I want to kiss you instead of shampooing my hair."
Ben laughs and grabs the bottle, massaging the citrus-scented shampoo into his scalp.
"No fair." Rey grabs it back, but he holds on and she runs her hands up his arms, her skin pressed up against his.
He closes his eyes, and then opens them, letting the sight of her—dripping wet, bubbles frothing in her hair, standing straight and naked and unashamed—wash into him. Instead of feeling raging shame stabbing him on the inside, instead of pounding his fists against the walls, he takes her in his arms, strokes her shoulders.
"Are you okay?" Rey asks, her palm flat against his chest.
Ben nods. "Yeah... it's just—I used to—when Snoke hurt me, I would shower the first chance I got, wash him away, but I never really washed him away. I never felt clean. I felt gross and dirty no matter what I did."
"When Unkar hurt me, I did the same thing," Rey confesses, eyes downcast. Steam rises around them.
And if we go back, they'll know. Everyone will know. The school won't be able to keep it a secret.
"What if they don't believe us? What if they don't believe you? What if they believe Snoke?" Ben manages. Who would believe two runaways? Who would believe the kids who attacked their principal? Who would believe a boy who's been suspended and has a terrible reputation among his teachers, who ratted out his own father?
"I don't know." Rey bites her lip, tearing up. "But it is the truth."
A face floats into Ben's mind. "Do you think Maz will believe us?"
"Maybe." Rey's eyes light up as water pours down on both of them. "Yeah, she might."
Snoke knew, Ben realizes. He knew all along there were few people who would believe him if he told. That's why you were the perfect target. He stares at himself, at his body, and wishes he were someone else, wishes he could go back and erase all of it.
Or not. Because Rey's here, touching his face, pleading with him and with herself. "You are clean, Ben. He doesn't—what he did to you, what Unkar did to me, what Snoke tried to do to me—we're gonna be okay. We'll figure it out." She tilts her head back, letting the water pull the shampoo from her hair, and he believes her. He lowers his lips to meet hers.
"Okay, enough shower time," Rey finally pants, turning off the faucet. She steps out and towel-dries her hair, tossing him a look-eyebrows raised, lips pouting—over her shoulder.
"If that's your seductive face, you're going to have to work on it," Ben teases her.
Her eyebrows climb higher. "I think it's working."
Ben sweeps her up in his arms, carrying her bridal style out of the bathroom and towards the bed. She leans her head against his shoulder and looks up at him, without a smile, but with complete trust.
"Excuse me, Ms. Artoo?"
An innocent voice drifts through the room. Finn can't focus, though. He can hear Poe shouting from across the hall, and it's killing him.
"Yes, Beebee-Ate?" Artoo frowns. "You shouldn't—"
"I need to talk to you," Beebee-Ate insists, his gaze meeting Finn's. He shrugs.
Artoo slips into the hall.
"Look's like the jig's up," Lando says, voice disappointed. In Finn.
"Not really," Finn manages.
"What do you mean?" Mr. Hux demands.
He's right. Everything's falling apart. Finn can tell the truth, or lie to try and put a band-aid on a fatal wound. But if he tells the truth…
"Can I talk to you alone?" Finn requests.
Lando nods. "Come on, kid." He turns to the other parents, instructing them to tell Artoo they'll be right back if she comes in. He leads Finn down the hall, and Finn notices Artoo and Beebee-Ate are gone.
"Okay, kid," Lando says as they emerge out the building's back entrance. He takes a seat on the concrete step. "What's going on?"
"I don't know if you'll believe me," Finn admits. "But I saw Ben. Before he left. I helped him pack."
Lando blows his breath out. "Okay."
"He pushed Snoke. Not Rey. Or so he said."
"Not surprising," Lando says gruffly.
This. This is exactly what Finn doesn't want to hear. Someone thinking the worst, however deserved, of Ben.
Is that why you never told, Ben?
"Is there more?"
The muscles in his neck tense. Finn almost shakes his head. But for the first time, he really, truly wants to be free to tell the truth. And he wants to save his friends, and maybe that looks different than he thought. "Yes."
"What?" Lando looks into his eyes, and Finn can barely say the words, but he shoves them out into the light of day anyways.
"Poe."
He lifts his eyes, squinting to see his father standing in front of him. He's still crying, and he can't stop. It's worse than the night he found out his mother died, because she wanted to stay with him, and his father—he won't even fight for Poe.
Dad eases himself down next to Poe and wraps his arms around him.
"Get—off me!" Poe shouts, sobs still wracking his chest, and then he feels it. His father's face, wet. His father's chest, shuddering as he cries.
"I'm so sorry, Poe," Dad ekes out. "I'm so sorry."
"You hate me."
"I love you."
Poe swallows his tears. "Well, you haven't—acted like it."
Dad pulls away and turns Poe's face towards his. "I know. I'm so sorry. I know I've been depressed—I just—I keep telling myself I can talk myself out of it, and I can't—I—God, Poe."
"I needed you this year," Poe says, voice breaking in angry shards. "I needed you, and you weren't there. You didn't care what I did. You didn't even react when I told you I got into school, or that I'd met a guy I really love. You haven't—"
"You have every right to be mad at me," Dad agrees. "Maz just read me the riot act, and everything she said is true. I know I've failed you, Poe. I know I've let you down." He caresses Poe's forehead, wiping stray strands of hair with his thumb. "I can't promise I'll go back to how things used to be, but I am going to get help, okay? I promise."
Poe wants to believe his father, but he's not sure he does.
"It's okay," Dad says, as if he knows what Poe's thinking. "I'll prove it to you."
Poe presses his head against his father's chest, breathing in and out. His father runs his hands over Poe's hair.
"I need to tell Ms. Organa and Mr. Solo something," Poe manages to say.
"Do you want me to come with you?"
Poe nods.
He arrives back in the room with his face swollen, no doubt, and his nose still running. Finn and Lando approach from the other direction, Lando's jaw and fists clenched.
"You told him?" Poe quizzes Finn, who runs to him and wraps his arms around Poe. "I'm okay, Finn. I'm going to be."
"I told him," Finn confirms as he pulls back. "I'm sorry—"
"Don't be." Fuck the rules. Poe kisses Finn quickly before they reenter Luke's office.
"Both of them, I presume," Lando says with a sigh. "Have something to say before you drive down to Naboo, Leia, Han, Luke, Maz." He frowns as he looks at Snoke, and Poe sees him hesitating.
"Yes?" Snoke prompts.
"Away from you."
"No. I'm not leaving." Snoke's eyes darken, and Poe wonders how much he suspects, if there's some panic behind his ghoulish face.
"I'll let them tell you," Lando sneers, keeping his gaze fixed on Snoke as if he'd like to tear that withered head from those drooping shoulders.
Finn looks to Poe, and Poe wipes at his eyes and nods. Do it.
"I helped Ben pack. To run away," Finn says. "And he told me why he attacked Snoke." He faces Snoke, something Poe can't even do. "You tried to rape Rey."
"What?" Mr. Solo explodes.
"Excuse me?" Snoke retorts.
Really, that's the best you can do? Poe snorts.
Mr. Skywalker grabs the edge of his desk. Maz drops her files and Ms. Organa—she's so still, not even breathing.
"That's a lie!" Snoke defends himself.
"I think it's not," Artoo's voice interrupts from the doorway. She holds up a small black piece of plastic and metal. A thumb drive. "Beebee-Ate just suggested I comb through your files, Snoke. I found all those receipts from the clinic—"
"Paying for the boy's gonorrhea treatment is hardly—"
"And emails," Artoo cuts in. "I've already called the police."
"Emails from Rey?" Maz asks, her clipboard dropping to the floor, her tone suggesting that she knows they aren't about Rey, or from Rey. Not at all.
"No." Artoo shakes her head at Snoke.
The unspoken name slams into every one of them.
"You piece of shit," Artoo says, voice wobbling.
Snoke lunges at Artoo, but Lando leaps up and grabs him, holding him back. Poe's father helps Lando wrestle the principal against the wall.
"Want a stronger concussion?" Dad threatens. "Just give me a reason!"
Mr. Solo rises to his feet and takes a step closer to Snoke, shaking, lips bubbling with rage. He can barely spit out the words. "Did you molest my son?"
Snoke glares at him, and that's answer enough. His feeble protest comes and makes no difference. "I would hardly—"
Mr. Solo rushes at Snoke and slams his fist across his jaw. Ms. Organa leaps up and drags her husband back, only to deck Snoke herself.
"Wow," Poe gasps, impressed.
"Hey, hey!" Lando pulls Ms. Organa away from the disgraced principal. "You asshole," he snarls at Snoke.
Police come in and handcuffs snap, rights are read, and Poe backs away, his hand grappling for Finn's. Beebee-Ate saved the day. Poe needs to thank the little guy.
They march Snoke away, and as he goes, Mr. Skywalker covers his face. When he lifts his hands, Poe sees tears tracking down his cheeks.
"We'll decide in the morning," Ben promises as Rey rolls out of the bed.
She nods. If they do go back… she's afraid, but she also knows now that she's okay, whoever she is. She knows she doesn't want to hurt people. She knows she's not like her mother, or Unkar, or Snoke.
In some ways, she's like Ben, but in others, she's not. She's Rey, and Ben loves her and Finn and Poe care about her, and she's okay.
You didn't win, Unkar.
Snoke won't, either. Somehow.
Rey pulls on her athletic shorts and the same t-shirt. Ben pulls on his black outfit and heads to the bathroom as she traipses back over to the bed and flops down.
Knock, knock.
Did we order room service?
Shit.
"Holy fuck," she says aloud, all of the bravery that washed over her in the shower dissipating in the air.
"Ben? Rey?"
"It's just us!"
Ms. Organa.
Mr. Solo.
A dog woofs. Her limbs feel heavy, as if she's not quite ready for this—but it's here anyways. Music time.
She unlocks the door, breath hitching.
"Rey." Ms. Organa wraps an arm around her, and Rey's so shocked she falls against the woman and hugs her back.
"May we come in?" Han asks, voice quiet.
Rey nods, pulling away and twisting her hair around her hand. She sees Han's eyes flicker to the one perfectly made bed and the one rumpled one.
Slut, Unkar's voice echoes.
I am not, Rey answers herself, straightening.
The bathroom door opens, and Ben emerges. His face drains.
"We're here to talk," Ms. Organa says.
"Not to turn me in?" Rey asks softly.
"For what?" Han asks, peering at her as Chewie rubs against her knees.
Rey scratches Chewie's ears. "I kicked Snoke. He hit his head."
"You did?" Han's eyes widen. "Finn told us—"
"That I did it," Ben says quickly.
"You lied to Finn?" Rey's jaw drops.
He shrugs. "I was trying to protect you."
"I can take care of myself," Rey says, but her voice is quiet and profoundly grateful. Was it dumb of Ben? Yes.
But he cared enough to try for her.
"Do you want to have a seat?" Ms. Organa asks, waving her hand as she sits on the made bed, her husband beside her. Rey and Ben exchange a grimace and sit on the unmade one. Chewie crawls up behind them.
"I didn't know they allowed dogs," Ben comments.
"They do," Han says, jaw trembling. "Ben—Rey—"
"Snoke's been arrested," Ms. Organa interrupts.
They know. Oh God. Rey turns to Ben, who stares at his black boots.
"We heard the allegations, and Artoo found some information on his computer," Mom continues. "Rey—Ben—did he touch you?"
"He tried," Rey says quickly. "He put his hand down my shirt. I kicked him, and he fell into the bookshelf." She fiddles with the edge of a sheet. "I thought I'd killed him at first."
"Wish you had," Dad grumbles.
Ben doesn't say anything. He's waiting for the arrows to fly.
Mom tries again. "Ben, Snoke's going to be charged with sexual assault based on, for starters, a few emails, as well as some doctor's bills."
"I'm sorry." The words emerge harsh and angry. Ben's last stand.
"It's not your—"
"Then whose fault is it?" Ben shouts. "Yours? He's been—touching—me for years. I never fought him. I liked the attention, because at least he seemed like he cared. And then—and then—you never asked! You should have realized something was wrong!" He's crying. "I almost killed myself over Christmas break, do you know that? And you wouldn't have cared!" He can't stay sitting. He doesn't want to collapse. He doesn't want to stand, doesn't want to let them see him better. He wants to vanish.
And between every sob he buries in Chewie's fur, with Rey's hand on his back, is his real meaning: tell me you love me.
Tell me it's going to be okay, even if it's not.
Tell me you don't think I'm disgusting.
"No," Mom says fiercely, and she's grabbing him, and his first instinct is to fight her but that's not what he really wants.
"I wanted to tell you or Uncle Luke, but I thought you'd be mad at me. I didn't fight him. Not once. Aren't you mad about that, Dad?" he asks, because he trusts his mother at least not to blame him for that.
"I'm mad at me," his father chokes out, and Ben lifts his face to see his father actually crying, ugly crying, his lips coming apart.
"I just wanted you to help me," Ben says, dragging the truth out from the darkest places of his mind and throwing it, naked and wailing, for them to have mercy on or trample.
"I am so sorry," Mom says, her fingers combing his hair back from his temples. "I—I understand if you're angry at us."
"Snoke gave me an STD."
"We know."
"I was so scared."
"He's never going to hurt you or anyone ever again," Mom vows.
"Good." Ben lifts his head and sees his father, the man everyone says he looks so much like, watching him and apparently that's all Dad needs, because he swoops in from the other side, sending Rey scooting backwards. He's hurt Ben and Ben's hurt him, but when his father's hands land on either side of his face, it bleeds away and leaves something more alive than ever in its place.
"I'm sorry I ran," Ben chokes out.
"I understand," Dad says, using his thumbs to wipe black, eyeliner-ridden tears from his son's face. "I'm sorry, Ben. I should have—"
"It's okay," Ben says, because now that he's gotten the I'm sorry, that's all that matters. Now that he knows his parents aren't disgusted with him, that they don't blame him, not even the slightest, even though he's given them every reason to lash out at him.
"No, it's not," Mom manages to say
"It's not your fault," Dad says. "Not yours—or yours, Rey. Not what happened yesterday, not what he did to you, Ben. None of it."
Ben tries to talk and chokes on his words. He sniffles and feels Rey's hand on his upper arm. "I—so you don't—you don't think I'm—that I deserve—or that I—"
"No," Mom insists. "I think you're—we think you're braver than you should have had to have been. Stronger, too. We know that what Snoke did is entirely on his own fucking head, and not at all on yours."
Everything's leaking from him now. He can't hold anything in. "I know I'm not—who you ever wanted—for a son."
"All I ever wanted," Dad chokes out, lifting Ben's chin. "Is you. You're my son. I love you, I want you, and I wanted to protect you, and I—I—"
"This," Mom says again. "Is not your fault. It doesn't change anything about my love for you, or my respect—our respect for you."
Chewie licks Ben's face, and he laughs in spite of himself. Rey runs her hand down his back, and Ben's heart constricts as he realizes she never heard words like these from her mother.
She's heard them from you.
"Either of you," Dad adds, as if realizing exactly what Ben's thinking.
Rey wipes at her eyes, and Ben pulls away from his parents to wraps an arm around her. His father looks at him with an expression Ben's never seen, but one that melts away all of the dross still clinging to him. They mean it.
"So Luke won't think badly of me?" Rey asks. "He's not mad?"
"Worried, not mad," Mom says. She hesitates, and reaches out to stroke Rey's hair. Rey's eyes widen, and she looks at Ben's mother like she's her own mother, and Ben tears up again.
We're just two scared kids, he thinks.
But they found us.