Chapter 5: Torn

"It's a new world, it's a new start,

It's alive with the beating of young hearts,

It's a new day, it's a new plan,

I've been waiting for you.

Here I am."

-Here I Am, Bryan Adams

23 ABY

The first thing Rey became aware of when she woke was the vast, shaggy head of a Wookie leaning over her.

Chewbacca quickly withdrew, letting out a sharp bark to someone over his shoulder. Rey's eyelids fluttered, filtering the harsh light that suddenly assaulted her eyes. She dragged her hands over her face once, and was confused by the accompanying tug and prickle in her right elbow. She dropped her hands back to her lap, surveying the thin, clear tube taped to her forearm.

"Kid?" Han said, squeezing around Chewie's wide frame. The look of concern on his face quickly faded as he watched Rey wriggle into a seated position, holding her arm way from her body as if the IV attached to her was a poisonous viper.

"What is it?" she asked through clenched teeth, feeling vaguely nauseated.

"What is what?" Han asked, glancing around the room in confusion.

Before either of her two companions could stop her, she gripped the tube tightly and wrenched it from her forearm, tossing it away. Blood welled in the pocket of her elbow and she watched it for a moment, fascinated, before pressing her opposite hand over the wound and bending her arm to increase the pressure.

"W-what? Kid, you can't do that!" Han shouted, clearly panicking. "Chewie, she can't do that! Get the droid over here, where is that useless hunk of junk?"

Chewie roared once, swiveling wildly in a display of consternation so exaggerated that Rey was forced to muffle a laugh, trepidation falling way. Her protectors were quite the duo—their antics tickled her humor at the same time that their concern warmed her heart. She glanced down at the small mark on her arm, which had already ceased bleeding.

"Where am I?" she asked, calling Han's attention back to her.

"Yavin 4," he said irritably, still casting his gaze around in search of something. "And you really weren't supposed to do that."

"It's fine," Rey murmured, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, searching for a memory. The courtyard. Ben Solo. The presence in her mind. And then—

"You passed out," Han explained, sinking into a chair beside her bed. "Dehydration, exhaustion, some fancy medical stuff. That's what the IV was for."

"The what?" Rey asked, wrinkling her nose.

"IV—stands for something fancy, don't ask me what. The little tube that you just ripped out of your arm. It was giving you fluids."

Rey raised a single eyebrow in disdain, sharing her opinion on such things.

"Whatever," Han grumbled. "Feel okay?"

Rey tipped her head slightly to the side, conducting a silent analysis of her physical state. "Yes," she answered.

"Good," Han said, massaging the center of one of his palms with the opposite thumb. He seemed to be looking for an excuse not to make eye contact with Rey. After perhaps a minute of increasingly awkward silence, he finally spoke. "You care to explain the weird eye-locking stint you pulled with my son?"

Rey felt her whole face turn a bright shade of red. "I-I d-don't know what you mean," she stammered. "I passed out, remember?"

"Let me tell you something," Han told her seriously, his brown eyes unwavering. "You're good at a lot of things, but lying ain't one of them."

Rey hadn't realized she was capable of flushing even more darkly, but she was at least saved from responding by the entrance of Threepio.

"If Mistress Rey is recovered, Master Luke has invited her to dine with him in his personal chambers," the protocol droid announced.

Han scoffed, pushing himself to his feet. "Perfect timing, as usual, Threepio," he sniped. "Well, kid, what do you say? You up to it?"

Rey nodded quickly, clambering out of the bed. Her feet barely wobbled as she hit the ground, but Han reached out to steady her regardless.

"Excellent," Threepio said. "A change of clothes has been provided for you in the refresher, if you will follow me."

Rey paused. "Refresher?"

Threepio froze, then swiveled to face her. "Oh, dear."

Cleaner than she had been in years and thoroughly befuddled, Rey trailed Threepio up another flight of stairs. Her fingers teased a few strands of her hair, which had been left loose for once and just brushed the tops of her shoulders. Its jagged, hand-cut ends were softer than she could possibly have imagined, thanks to what she considered an exorbitant amount of water spent washing it. Threepio had given her careful instruction on how to use the 'fresher, yet she was still uncertain how it was possible to avoid waste under such a deluge.

Her tunic was off-white and slightly too large, her pants a rich brown, the color of earth. She had re-donned her boots in absence of a different pair, but was altogether uncertain why it was necessary to change any of her garments after only a single day. On Jakku she had owned only a single replicate of everything, which she had worn until they had literally fallen apart. As the saying went, the only possessions that can't be stolen are the ones you wear on your back.

Threepio stopped before a narrow door and pressed a panel. The door slid open silently. "I will return after dinner to escort you to your room," the droid told her. "Enjoy."

Rey forced a smile, took a deep breath, and stepped over the threshold into a small antechamber. A table set for two dominated the space, and across the way was another closed door that Rey assumed led to Master Luke's sleeping chambers.

The Jedi himself was positioned with his back to the door, fussing with something in front of what looked like a miniature kitchenette. Without turning, he spoke.

"Sit, make yourself comfortable. I'm almost done here."

Rey swallowed once and slid one of the chairs back from the table. It was tall, and she had to scramble awkwardly into the seat. She was grateful that Master Luke's back was turned so that he missed her graceless entrance. A beat passed in silence, and he turned to the table, bearing two plates of food. He had a craggy face, bright blue eyes, and a cropped golden beard, flecked with white. He was wearing a sand-colored tunic and brown pants, and Rey realized with a flash of surprise that he had been the other man in the courtyard—the one she hadn't gotten a good look at. She felt a pulse of embarrassment at the memory of her fainting spell. He probably thought she was weak.

She squared her shoulders.

"I hope you don't mind rehydrated ration packs," he said, depositing one of the plates in front of her. "I've never been much of a cook, and I've always been fond of simple fare."

Rey nodded, oddly comforted by the familiar loaf of dense bread and bowl of thick stew. "Thank you, sir," she said. "I don't have anything to trade, but I'm good at odd jobs so I can—" she cut off, realizing that the Jedi was looking at her strangely. His face smoothed suddenly and he smiled slightly.

"You are from Jakku, yes?" Rey nodded again. "And rations are currency on Jakku?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then I understand your confusion," Master Luke said. "Allow me to be clear with you, Rey. You owe me nothing for this meal. I provide for all of my students and visitors."

Rey blinked in surprise. Han's generosity over the past several days had confused her profoundly, but she had chalked it up to her position in his employment. This, however, was…odd.

"Yes, sir," she said again, this time more slowly.

Master Luke smiled again, crow's feet appearing around his eyes. "Enough of that, though," he said. "Please, eat, I'm sure you're hungry."

Rey eyed her food. It was true—she was starving. The table was very high, but she had managed under worse conditions before. She scooted forward in her chair, plucking the roll off of her plate and tearing into it. The bread was half gone before she realized that the Jedi was watching her closely. The look on his face wasn't judgmental, but a mixture of amusement and warmth. Rey blushed a brilliant shade of red, and began chewing each bite of food ad infinitum before swallowing.

The two ate in silence for several minutes before Master Luke leaned back in his chair, sipping from the cup of blue milk positioned beside his plate. "Tell me, Rey," he said, conversationally. "What do you know of the Force?"

Rey stopped eating and placed her spoon carefully beside her plate, lining it up perfectly as she considered her answer.

"It is a power that the Jedi use," she began. "It runs through everything—or at least that's what Maz told me. Senator Organa said that some people have the ability to sense the Force—and that it can speak to them if they listen. She thinks that I have the Force."

"Everyone has the Force," Master Luke responded. "As you said, it flows through us all. And Leia is correct that some have a greater affinity for it than others. But it is not a power for the use of the Jedi—it is the fabric that connects the entirety of the universe. Jedi are Force-sensitives who channel its flow to achieve a state of inner balance, allowing them to take advantage of its energy and ubiquity. This focus and centeredness do provide the Jedi with certain abilities that aid them in their pursuit of justice and order, but the Force should not be viewed as a means of grasping power."

Rey nodded, feeling as if she had failed some test, despite Master Luke's mild tone.

"Leia is also correct in her assessment of your affinity for the Force," the Jedi continued. "The Force speaks to you—I could feel it. As could Ben."

The hairs on the back of Rey's neck prickled at the mention of Ben's name. She wondered absently—as she had been wondering, ever since she woke—where he was now.

Master Luke seemed to be judging her reaction carefully. "It is my belief," he said carefully, "that you have tapped into the Force several times without realizing it."

Rey's dream swelled to the forefront of her mind, along with the feeling of grass on her palms, the smooth touch of Darth Vader's lightsaber, and a pair of dark eyes boring into hers. She wavered for a moment, deciding whether she should tell Master Luke about her vision, which had been caused by his own lightsaber and had contained flashes of his nephew. She remembered Maz's words. It can be dangerous to share visions with those they concern. She settled on a compromise.

"I have dreams," she said hesitantly. "All of my life, but especially recently. I had a dream of a forest. I think it was here."

Master Luke leaned forward rapidly, interest burning in his blue gaze. "What did you dream?" he asked. "Describe it to me, exactly as you saw it."

Rey fidgeted nervously. "Well…I was in a clearing. There were trees everywhere—huge ones. They felt alive—like the aliveness was spilling out of them into the world."

"The Force," Master Luke whispered. "Continue."

"I was sitting," she said. "Floating. Just above the ground. There were stones around me—they were floating too. I felt something—in my head. Like something—or someone—was trying to speak to me. It was—I thought I knew who it was, but then I woke up. I felt it again, when I came here. The same presence." Her jaw snapped shut, afraid to say more, afraid that she'd already given away the sneaking suspicion growing in her mind.

Master Luke stared at her thoughtfully as if weighing his options. "Be honest with me," he said finally. "Do you know who this presence belonged to?"

Rey hesitated for several long seconds before finally nodding.

Master Luke sighed tiredly, leaning back again as if he had confirmed something. "Leia has asked me to train you," he said, changing the topic abruptly. "At the very least, I think it would benefit you to spend a few days here, gaining an understanding of the Force and the ways in which it should—and shouldn't—be used. But I want to know how you feel about all of this. Is it something you wish to explore?

Rey's fingers twisted in the hem of her tunic nervously. "Yes," she said in a small voice. The silence stretched out. "It's—I feel like—there's something inside me. Something that has always been present, but until I looked at it, I didn't realize it was there. But now I've seen it, and it's…awake. And it scares me, because I can't control it."

"Can't control it?" Master Luke's eyes were suddenly sharp.

"Whatever it is, this feeling, the Force—it tells me to do things. I don't understand why, or how. Right now it's telling me—telling me that I need to stay here. That I can't leave. When I think of leaving, I feel a sickness." She pointed to her sternum. "Here."

"The Force can be powerful," the Jedi admitted, relaxing slightly. "Especially for one as attuned to it as yourself. Think of it as an instinct. Do you fear your instincts?"

Rey shook her head quickly. "No. I just—I came here because Senator Organa said I might be dangerous to Mr. Han and Chewie. But also, because something was calling to me."

"Then perhaps you are meant to be here," Master Luke said gently. "What do you know of the life of a Jedi?"

"The Jedi are warriors of peace," Rey said, quoting the opening line of one of her favorite legends from Niima Outpost's oldest storyteller. "They live apart, but they are one with the Force."

"Yes," Master Luke said. "It can be a solitary life. But fulfilling. Is it something you desire?"

Rey paused. Her whole life—or at least the parts that she could remember—had been one endless slog of solitude. She didn't crave loneliness any more than she craved sand in her bedroll. Her thoughts flashed to Han and Chewie. She knew that they probably only thought of her as their new mechanic—a position that she took very seriously—but she couldn't help but feel a budding warmth towards them. They weren't her family, but she wished they could be.

"Han and Chewie," she said softly. "They would have to go?"

"Yes," Master Luke answered. "Their place is elsewhere. You would see them again, but a Jedi must not form attachments."

Rey's chest throbbed with a strange pain. The half of her heart that longed for a family was telling her to leave, to run away to the Falcon with Han and Chewie and leave this planet forever. She could stay with them until Senator Organa located her true parents.

But the other half of her, the half that was intertwined inextricably with a strange presence in the Force, was anchoring her there. She thought of her three letters on the wall of the Falcon, of the dark-haired boy in Han's photograph, and the whirlpool dragging her closer. Could she not have both? Could she not follow the will of the Force without forsaking all human connection?

"What if my parents come back? Can I see them?"

Master Luke gave her a look that seemed to stretch on forever. "If they come here in peace, I will not prevent you from seeing them," he finally responded. "But like Han and Chewie, they cannot stay. It is not the Jedi way. A Jedi's place is with the Force—with the Jedi Order."

"And the Jedi Order—is it like a family?" She asked the question looking up at Master Luke hopefully, but his warm blue eyes weren't the ones she was imagining.

"It is a brotherhood—or a sisterhood," he conceded. "The Jedi care for one another. You will not be alone here—you will be part of something larger than yourself. You will have purpose, and you may even come to understand who and what you are. But you will never have the sort of family that I sense you desire. Desire is not the way of the Jedi."

Rey felt a lump forming in her throat and tried desperately to swallow it.

"Think on it," Master Luke said. "I will not ask you to make this decision lightly. Speak with Han. I know he cares for you."

Rey nodded gratefully, the immense pressure bearing down on her receding for a moment.

"I only have one request," the Jedi said heavily. "If you are to stay here, there is one condition."

Rey looked at him expectantly.

"If you are to become a Jedi, you must promise me that you will stay away from Ben Solo."

Rey stared sullenly at her feet, which were hanging several inches above the floor. The stone bench under her thighs was cold, and she had been sitting quietly for many minutes already. The medical bay was silent and empty. Master Luke had offered her a bed there for the night, which she accepted grudgingly despite her wish to return to the Falcon and curl up in her alcove.

She wasn't sure what to do with herself in this large, empty space. She had yet to glimpse any of Master Luke's other students—padawans, she reminded herself—and she suspected that he was keeping them separate for a reason. No use in sowing unrest among his pupils if she was only going to leave in a few days' time.

The choice that Master Luke had left her with was still battering around inside of her head like a loose part. To stay, or to go? She had never had a choice like this one before. Her life had been one endless stretch of waiting until Han Solo and Chewbacca had stumbled onto their old ship and swept her away. This feeling was foreign—it wasn't like choosing between climbing up and climbing down in the belly of a shipwreck. It wasn't like choosing between a quarter portion and a canteen of water. Those choices were important, but trivial in the end. Rey was young, but she was old enough to know that this choice would shape her entire life.

And maybe others, an internal voice whispered. If you leave this place, you will be disobeying the will of the Force itself.

Rey shook her head sharply. A single day surrounded by Jedi and already she was buying into their superstitions. Perhaps she wasn't meant to be here at all. Perhaps it had all been a mistake. But the feeling of tension behind her sternum was telling her a different story—it was telling her that there was something, or someone, who needed her to stay.

She jumped down from the bench and began to pace, combing through facts in her mind. Fact: if she stayed here, she would never get the family that she wanted. Fact: with the knowledge of the Jedi behind her, perhaps she would be able to find her missing parents. Fact: Han Solo didn't want her to be a Jedi. Fact: Senator Organa probably did. Fact: Ben Solo was the most captivating human she had ever met, and she wasn't sure if she had the strength to leave a place where he was, even if—

—the sound of the door sliding open caught her attention. She glanced up as Han and Chewie strode into the room. She felt the sudden urge to throw her arms around Han's waist, but she held herself back, looking at him miserably instead. The weight of her decision was thumping against her ribs in time with her heart. Chewie let out a low, sad noise.

"Hey, kid," said Han, walking closer and dropping onto the bench that Rey had just vacated. "How was your meeting with Luke?"

Rey resumed her seat and stared down at her feet some more. She couldn't lie to Han.

"Okay," she finally mumbled. "He asked me if I want to be a Jedi."

She felt more than heard Han swallow his sigh. "Well?" he asked. "Do you want to be a Jedi?"

Rey felt tears gathering in her eyes. "I don't know," she said, still looking down. She felt her bottom lip tremble.

Han swallowed once. "Look, kid," he said. "Let me give it to you straight. I don't understand all this Force nonsense. It makes no sense to me. But I've been married to a Force-sensitive for almost twenty years, and my own kid is practically splitting at the seams with Jedi-magic. So, if the Force is telling you to do this, I understand. I know I got angry at Leia for trying to pull you into it but—" he paused, clearly uncomfortable. "You're a good kid. I want what's best to you. I wouldn't hold it against you if you decided life on the Falcon wasn't for you. You don't owe Chewie and I anything."

Rey wanted desperately to cry, but she was too proud to do it in front of Han. Her throat was on fire. "I do want to work with you and Chewie," she managed to squeeze out past the lump lodged in the region of her vocal cords. "But I also—have to stay here. My whole life I've been so confused. I've been looking for something—my parents, I thought. But this place—it calls to me, and I have to listen. It's like—if I leave, something terrible is going to happen. To you—to Master Luke. To Ben. Does that make any sense?"

She could feel Han's gaze on the top of her downturned head.

"Maybe," he said. "But bad things happen all the time Rey—you can't be responsible for everyone. You should make this decision for yourself, not for us."

Rey swallowed, the sound of her name spoken in Han Solo's voice echoing in her ears. The family she had always wanted. It could be hers. All she had to do was walk away, ignore the wrenching feeling under her ribs.

"I can't," she breathed. "I have to—have to protect—have to do this."

Han let his sigh out this time. His hand dropped onto her shoulder.

"I get it, kid," he said. "I really do. And me and Chewie, we don't hold a grudge."

Rey couldn't hold back her sob at that. It rattled in her chest before breaking free—just a single sob before her throat clamped down on the rest of the deluge.

"Ahh, kid," Han said, squeezing her shoulder. "Look, our deal stands, okay? If you ever want out of here, I'm only a hologram away. Chewie and I still need that mechanic."

Rey couldn't help it. She threw her arms around Han's waist and soaked his shirt with tears.

A/N: I AM SO SORRY. I told a bunch of you that this would be posted Sunday or Monday, and here it is Tuesday! Apologies! I also have to apologize for the lack of Ben-I tried really hard to get him into this chapter, which is why it took so long. I ended up writing about 10,000 words before he showed, and I knew I had to split it in half (which is the reason why this chapter is a bit short!). The bright side to all of this waiting and the lack of Ben is that I have another chapter ~containing Ben~ that I can send up by the end of this week! So you'll get two updates for the price of one!

I hope you like it! I feel like this chapter is a bit filler-ish so I do apologize for that. I also had trouble selecting a song this time around (I have some great ones planned for later chapters but this one I struggled for sure). I'm very excited to get to some later scenes that should be coming up in the next 2-4 chapters (and were the sorts of scenes that inspired this story in the first place!).

Thanks so much for reading, and as always, let me know if there are typos or other issues!

-Aspen