AN: Check out the AI-generated art on my Indygodusk Tumblr. Formatting is still messed up with italics stripped.
Shoot first. Kill it, if you have to (Time Travel, Han Solo Style)
By Indygodusk
Chapter 11 - Palpatine's Coup de Grâce and Fond Farewells
Eyes going wide, Ben cried out and leaped forward, thrusting out his hand and diverting the shot at the last second with the Force. The blaster bolt curved in mid-air and creased across Skywalker's temple instead. Nevertheless, the shot hit him.
It hit!
Mouth hanging open, Han could barely believe it. He watched, not breathing, as Skywalker fell, rolling down a set of stairs and landing on his back with his arms outflung, unmoving.
He wasn't moving.
Han had finally hit him. He'd shot Anakin Skywalker, just like he'd always promised. Feeling paralyzed by success, Han could only stare. Blood dripped down Skywalker's temple, painting his ear bright red and soaking into his pale hair. He looked vulnerable and pitiful sprawled across the floor like that.
He wasn't moving.
Had Han killed him? He didn't know how he felt about that. Something in his chest sank. His stomach clenched and bile threatened to rise in his throat. Han didn't regret it, he didn't, but….
But.
He wasn't mov—
No.
(please)
Wait.
He moved.
(thank you)
Han sucked in a breath of air, feeling slightly lightheaded. Skywalker's chest shallowly rose and fell with each breath—proof of life. The Jedi's eyelashes fluttered and his head slid sideways before stilling again. He was only unconscious, not dead.
"Dad, you tried to kill him!" Ben gasped.
Han's emotions felt confusing and muddled. "I would've succeeded too if you hadn't stopped me," Han grumbled, feeling more irritated at his own relief at failing than at Ben interceding. He didn't like it.
Stupid Skywalkers.
Shoving his blaster hard back into its holster, Han scrubbed at his face and stood up. "Well, at least I got to shoot him," he muttered to himself. Thinking about that, his stomach settled and a smile grew on his face. "I did it. I shot him." His feelings about that weren't confusing at all. In fact, it had him feeling pretty darn great.
Han looked around for the ghost to rub it in his face, only to realize that he couldn't see him anywhere. "Where's Anakin?"
Ben gave him an unamused look. "Unconscious on the floor. You shot him, remember?"
"Well, yes," Han grinned smugly and then forced the corners of his mouth down to try and look a bit more mature as he cleared his throat. "But no." Han looked around again, searching for faint blue glows of Force ghosts in the shadows.
Brow creasing, Han realized that there were many more shadows in the room than there used to be. Probably the droids shutting everything down now that their master was gone. He hoped the droids didn't also turn off the oxygen along with the lights or start venting areas to space. "Not him. My Anakin, the Force ghost one."
Outside the large floor-to-ceiling windows, hundreds of small ships spun through space firing at each other while still fighting for Palpatine and Dooku, unaware that both of their leaders were already dead and that they were fighting and dying for nothing. The light from their lasers strobed across the walls and floor, but failed to affect the strangely shifting shadows gathering around Palpatine's body. The hair on the back of Han's neck lifted in warning. Something wasn't right.
"Oh, it's my Anakin, huh?" Ben sounded amused and suggestive. "Should I tell mom about this?"
The question diverted Han from his nascent suspicions. Outraged, Han rounded on Ben with a raised finger. "No, that's not what I meant! Don't tell her I said that! Or him! Either of them." Han grimaced.
"Too late," Anakin said in a sing-song as he popped into view. He had his back toward them and was examining his unconscious younger self. Looking back over his shoulder, he sent them a wink. "I knew that Ben adores and reveres me, but I'm surprised and touched to hear that you do as well, Han." Smile fading, he said, "However, being flattered doesn't mean I won't make you regret shooting me"
"I won't regret it," Han said, chest puffing up as he glared, "and I don't like you at all."
"He's being honest," Ben said curtly to his grandfather, looking about as far from adoring as you could get. "The more I talk to you, the more I understand why."
"Just wait until Han meets me again as a potential son-in—" visibility flickering, Anakin's head jerked around to face Palpatine's shadowed corpse with a gasp. "Brace yourselves!" Anakin's arms spread wide, hands braced as if holding something back. His body lit up like a small sun, blue-white light arcing out of him like solar flares to engulf Han and Ben as well as the bodies of the unconscious Jedi.
"What the—" Han started to demand, instinctively trying to get away from Anakin's weird light.
Black miasma exploded from Palpatine's body.
And Han became lost.
A shock wave of everything Evil and Dark surged through the room. It hit like a typhoon of filth and destruction, its roar more felt in the bones than heard with the ears as pain, anguish, and terror clawed, ripped, and slashed at Han's mind, body, and soul. Wave after wave of blackness filled the room in an unending assault, more horrific than anything he'd ever felt or experienced before. Blinded and choking, body shutting down, unable to see up from down, and drowning in an icy world of unending hunger, extreme pain, and biting loneliness, Han fought against the urge to curl up and die. Second by second, he had to actively choose to not give up, to keep fighting to get back into the Light. Trying to escape the hopelessness, he clawed for help, searching for hope, reaching out for someone, anyone, to save him, desperately stretching out his hands into the dark void.
When no one reached back, Han was forced to acknowledge the obvious truth—no one was coming. They'd all left him, left him before he could run away to make sure he left first. He wasn't worth saving. Of course he wasn't. He should've known better. Each thought felt like a knife of devastation impaling his chest, reminding him of the spot where his son had killed him, making it ache and throb. He'd been born worthless and died useless. He should've known better than to hope for anything else in this second life. Life had always chewed him up and spit him out. This was just more of the same.
The line between life and death blurred. Giving up, he felt his spirit being forcefully ripped from his shivering, pathetic body—
—when someone grabbed him, anchoring him back into place.
Shocked and disbelieving, afraid to trust in hope, tears filled Han's eyes as first his left and then his right hand were grasped as tightly and securely as maglocks. It beat back the whimpering defeat and hopelessness from Han's soul, giving him the courage to look up and squint through watering eyes at the shining hands gripping him so tightly. They were real. Those hands pulled him up off the cold hard floor where he'd fallen like a worm about to be crushed beneath the Dark Side's boot. One hand let go, only to slide around his back, keeping his weak body from falling over again and pulling him close into the protection of a warm, strong embrace full of goodness and light.
It felt wonderful, but Han still couldn't catch his breath, no matter how he tried. His chest burned like he was being tortured again, like he was impaled by a red lightsaber and dying again, though the glow surrounding him was white and blue. His eyes slipped closed against his will. Despair drowned his newborn hope. Perhaps he deserved this for failing the people he loved most. Help had come too late for him. He was lost. Black spots filled his vision as he waited for death to take him for the second time.
But help had come. That counts for something, a voice that sounded like his Leia whispered in his thoughts. Don't be so quick to give up. You aren't worthless, useless, or alone. Not if you don't want to be. Meet them halfway. Keep trying. Keep trying until you find a way to win.
Which was easy for Leia to say when she wasn't even here, but—
Han heard another voice, this time with his ears instead of his imagination. "I've got you, Dad. Don't die again. Please. Force help me, stay with me. Please, breathe!"
It was Ben holding Han so tightly and Ben begging him to live as lack of air threatened to chew up and swallow Han down like Jabba's rancor. Han thought about Leia and Ben. He didn't want to let down his family, not again like he had so many times before, but it might be inevitable as his body started shutting down. His lungs refused to cooperate, feeling like they were clogged with rancid, congealed oil. For Ben's sake, Han fought again to breathe, but it didn't work.
"Grandfather, help me!" Ben screamed, pounding his hand on Han's back. "He can't breathe!"
"I'm here!" Anakin's legs braced against their huddled bodies, a line of searing heat pressing against the painful throb of Han's skin. "Han's too stubborn to die. You hear me, Han? Be your usual bantha-stubborn, cantankerous self and don't give in to the Dark. Just hold onto the Light side! Ben and I have got you and we're Skywalkers, so don't be afraid. Just hold on!"
Han didn't even have the energy to be annoyed at Ben being called a Skywalker instead of a Solo…or at least not as much as the claim deserved. Han fought to hold on, focusing on not sliding farther into the dark even if advancing felt impossible.
Ben folded himself even more around Han's body, cupping the back of Han's head to press it to his broad shoulder as if he were the father and Han the child. Han wasn't too proud to cling to Ben and accept the help as he fought to break through the vice around his chest and breathe. He focused on the sparks of light he could see and not the overwhelming shadows with their dark, slavering, gaping maws. He focused on the Light Ben and Anakin were giving off with the Force. He focused on the Light that came with life and hope and managed a whistling gasp in and out of his tortured lungs.
"Good. Again," Ben demanded, pounding him on the back hard enough to hurt. "Again!"
Han gasped another wisp of air. Anakin shifted so more of his leg pressed up against Han's body. Ben clasped the back of Han's neck and shook him. "Again! Now!"
Blue-white light shot through Han's body like a lightning bolt, banishing the spots filling Han's vision and breaking through the devastating vice of the Dark side. Han coughed, expelling what felt like an entire cargo hold including all of the smuggler compartments of black oily shadows. Inhaling his first full breath in far too long, his hands clutched convulsively at Ben's blue and white striped shirt and black jacket. Coughing again, expelling more of Palpatine's Dark side venom, he greedily sucked in more air.
If anyone asked later, Han would blame the sweetness of the air compared to the suffocating filth of before for the snot and tears streaming down his face and soaking into Ben's shoulder as he cried. "Don't let go of me, Ben. Don't let go," Han gasped out, fiercely clinging to his son. Head resting on Ben's shoulder, Han's watering eyes locked on Anakin's star-bright glow as his lungs worked like bellows. He really had expected to die for good that time.
"Grandfather, do you need my help?" Ben asked. Han could feel the rumble of Ben's voice beneath his cheek. The more he caught his breath the more uncomfortable and embarrassed he became with the position he found himself in. Han told himself to pull it together and stop crying like a baby. Wiping his nose and eyes with the back of his hand, he prepared himself to unclench the hand fisting Ben's clothes and sit up.
In a minute.
Anakin's light never faltered. "No…I've got him. I just need…a little…longer to wear him down," Anakin forced out. "Save your strength…for Han. I won't let Sidious touch you. Either of you," he vowed, widening his stance, pushing out with his hands, and making the sphere of light surrounding them brighten even more, so bright it felt blinding like the sun coming out from behind the curve of a planet when you hadn't expected it and the polarization function on your screen was on the fritz again.
At first, Han thought he was imagining things, but slowly at first and then faster and faster, the waves of Darkness emanating from Palpatine's body started fading, each wave weaker and shorter than the last. Anakin's light never wavered. As Han's breathing evened out, he squinted around the room. The shadows looked normal again. Tentatively he reached a finger into the darker shadow cast by Ben's body. The darkness didn't hurt. Not anymore.
"I think it's over," Ben said, looking up at Anakin.
"Yeah." Exhaling gustily, Anakin abruptly dropped his arms, his light dimming back to Force ghost normal. Shaking out his wrists, he turned around to face them. "That was intense. Are you two alright?" A smirk lit his face as he took in their position.
Eyes meeting from mere inches away, Ben and Han jumped away from each other, though Han felt Ben squeeze his hand one last time before his light also faded back to normal and he turned insubstantial. Han mourned the fact that he couldn't feel, only see the sweep of Ben's coat swishing through Han's arm and chest as Ben rose to his feet and stepped away, adjusting the fall of his clothes.
"We're fine," Ben said. Looking away, he shrugged one shoulder. "Thank you…for before…."
"Yeah, thanks," Han said, rubbing his aching chest and feeling a prick of conscience. "Thanks for saving me even though I shot you, or other you, you know…" avoiding looking at the downed Skywalker, he shrugged one shoulder, just like Ben, before trailing off awkwardly, also just like Ben, though not on purpose. Han was older, so really it was Ben doing it just like Han.
"Yeah, well," Anakin shrugged in return and cleared his throat. "I probably deserved it, or at least the younger me did." Looking over his shoulder and up at Palpatine's mangled corpse, which was looking worse for wear after that Dark-side explosion, a fierce grin burst across Anakin's face and lit his blue eyes. He turned back to Han. "I suppose I'll forgive you since you succeeded in killing Palpatine before he turned younger me and I destroyed my life and everything I loved. You also saved the Force. Good job. I knew you could do it."
"You did?" Han asked, unable to stop himself from feeling flattered.
"Maybe not at first, but after getting to know you and all you can do?" Eyes locked on Han's, Anakin nodded firmly. "Yes, I knew you could do it."
"Oh." Feeling his face go hot, Han had to look down and away. "Well, thanks. That means a lot."
"You're welcome. After all," Anakin said, clearing his throat and putting his hands on his hips, "how could you fail with someone amazing like me by your side every step of the way, giving you expert advice and helping you to stay alive and motivated when you made so many stupid mistakes? You'd have been lost without me."
A-a-and there went those tender feelings. "Really? That's your story of how it all went down?" Han gave Anakin the stink-eye. "This is why we don't get along, you do realize?"
Anakin shook his head condescendingly. "I know you both not-so-secretly admire me. You can admit it openly."
Ben huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back on one foot as a muscle in his temple twitched.
Anakin cocked his head and looked to the side, the corner of his mouth tilting up. "Ah, a lady needs my help coming over."
"What? Who now?" Han threw up his hands. "I don't want to deal with more people, even if it is your mom." Worried about Anakin's temper, he added, "Not to say I don't like Shmi, she's a great lady." Her memory did help Skywalker kill Dooku without using the Dark Side. Plus, Shmi knew almost as much as Han did (or perhaps even more) about small craft engines.
Either ignoring or not hearing Han, Anakin went from transparent to translucent. "I'll generously leave the rest of this to you boys. I think I can honestly say I've done enough. Obi-Wan can't criticize my performance this time since I spared him a lot of heartache and hard work." He cast a fond look towards the area of the room where Kenobi lay unconscious before turning back to Han and Ben.
"Helping her might take the last of my power, so if we don't meet again, may the Force be with you." Anakin paused to look each of them in the eye. "And I do mean that sincerely." He nodded at Ben, then turned to Han. "Son-in-law, one last thing. Remember to name your son after me this time instead of stuffy 'Old Ben' Obi-Wan, alright?"
Aggravated, Han's hand dropped instinctively to his blaster. The habit of years was hard to break even after successfully shooting Anakin once. Han had just decided to try his luck again when Anakin disappeared.
"I don't regret shooting that guy one bit." Turning on his heel, Han stalked away across the massive stateroom, dodging debris and broken battle droids, feeling antsy with the need to run. He was so done with all of this. "Can we leave and go home now?" he whined to Ben, who was trailing along after him.
"Our home and timeline are gone. We have to make new ones now." Ben paused and gave Han a deadpan look. "Well, you do at least. I'm dead. As part of a Force dyad with Rey, we'll be reforged into a new singular and superior soul in the Force after she passes, so I don't have to stress about that like you. My part in this is done." He waved a hand blithely in Han's direction. "Good luck with that."
"Gee, thanks," Han said sarcastically. "You're all heart."
Before Ben could deliver the zinger undoubtedly trembling on the tip of his tongue, thunder cracked in the air over Palpatine's body and the shadows flashed blacker, like some strange, reverse lightning. Han's head whipped around. Around Palpatine's body, the shadows started boiling up, forming into a dark column of writhing smoke that looked like a dense swarm of venomous insects in the vague shape of a figure.
"Oh, come on, not again!" Han snapped, unholstering his blaster. Ben growled in agreement, glaring at where Palpatine somehow still kept his spirit from its final death, making the Force twist with dissonance in a way even Han could sense was unnatural.
Han shot into the black swarm, but the blast flew through the shadows as if nothing were there, disappearing and failing to even illuminate the dark as it passed through. "Why isn't he finished off yet? Why can't he just stay dead? What more do we need to do? We've already done this twice!" Just in case it helped, he shot the corpse again a few times. Unfortunately, it had no effect.
Ben growled. "Of course Grandfather's taken off so he can't help anymore, distracted by some woman or other. It better be my grandmother or else," he hissed, the muscle at the hinge of his jaw throbbing.
Scrubbing at the back of his head, Han wracked his memory. "Wait, who finished off Palpatine's spirit last time? Your Rey and a bunch of dead Jedi, right? Can we get them here to do that again?"
"Rey's still alive in the other timeline, holding the line for the Force," Ben said grimly. "There's only us." He put his hand on his lightsaber, tapping his fingers along the hilt as he stared at the shadow in deep thought. "I need you to step up. I don't do well attacking him by myself." He sent Han a quick sideways glance. "The reasons why aren't important."
Han's next volley of blaster bolts slid through the shadows without causing even a ripple. "Yeah, no." Han shook his head. "I don't think I'm going to be of much help. Unless you want me to try to hurt his feelings by yelling insults in Shyriiwook? Because that's pretty much the only way I'm gonna hurt a guy made out of shadows and spite."
Ben scoffed, knuckles going white on his lightsaber. "Oh, that's helpful. Thanks, Dad. Just give up without even trying anything. Next, you'll suggest running away, just like you always do, especially when things get rough."
"Hey! I tried shooting at him. What more do you expect me to do? Punch the mean shadows? Blow him away?" Han blew a raspberry with his lips, spraying Ben's ghost with spittle and making Ben's face crease with irritation and anger as he drew back instinctively, even though the spit just fell through his ghost to spatter harmlessly onto the floor. "Give me a reasonable plan and I'll make it happen, but I can't work with nothing, kid. I'm not a space wizard like you, remember?"
"As if you'd ever let me forget," Ben said bitterly.
Han sucked in his breath to snap something he'd probably regret later, only to jump in place and choke on his spit as between one blink and the next a new Force ghost appeared right next to them. As soon as his eyes stopped watering and he regained his breath, he recognized Rey. Rubbing his aching chest, trying to stop wheezing, he examined the changes in the girl he'd once known.
Rey looked older and more polished than the first time he'd met—and saved—the little ragamuffin. With her hair tied back in a series of buns, she was dressed in a high-collared sleeveless tunic, arm wrappings from wrist to elbow, a crisscrossed sash tucked into a leather belt, and leggings that ended mid-calf above sturdy ankle boots. She looked competent, confident, and dangerous, like she'd discovered and come to peace about who and what she was and where she'd come from, and that anyone who tried to disturb that peace would be made to deeply regret it, probably at the end of her weapon or fist.
Good for her.
"Rey," Ben said, expression too complicated to parse.
"Hello! It's nice to see you again." Rey faced Han, not looking at Ben. "Well, you at least, Mr. Solo." She flashed Han a bright, endearing grin, still ignoring Ben, before her expression turned serious. "But is now really the time for arguments? Palpatine is still a threat." She gestured with her lightsaber hilt at the shadows buzzing and swarming above Palpatine's body, slowly forming a human silhouette.
"It's not my fault…and there's always time for arguments," Han muttered, refusing to let her soften him up…at least not too quickly. Han always had a soft spot for strong, confident, and warm-hearted women who knew how to shoot a blaster. Her piloting skills were also a big bonus, not to mention Ben's partiality to her.
"Rey, you died and…came to find me? Willingly?" Ben watched Rey with his heart in his eyes. Putting a hand over his mouth, which had started curving up at the corners with what looked like delight, Ben cleared his throat and forced his expression to flatten. "I mean, oh, you died. Too bad. Are you okay? I mean, I didn't expect you to last long without me there, but I hope it was at least a good death. You know, easy and not too painful." He licked his lips nervously. "Or too boring." He pressed his lips tight and stopped any more words from dribbling out.
Good plan. Too bad he hadn't stopped the flow of verbal diarrhea earlier. Han had to fight the urge to slap his hand over his face at all of Ben's awkwardness. He was just as arrogant and bad with words as his grandfather.
"Master Skywalker brought me over without asking, so no, I didn't come to find you in particular or particularly willingly," Rey sent Ben a repressive glower. "However, I am here now, so I'll finish off Palpatine for the good of the galaxy and the Force. As he's my grandfather, it's my duty."
"Oh hey," Han whispered out of the corner of his mouth to Ben, remembering the clone father conversation so long ago when Ben first proposed this crazy idea to Han in the ghostly illusion of the Falcon's galley. "Rey's going to kill her grandfather. You could do the same?" He jerked his thumb toward Skywalker's body, mostly kidding…or maybe half kidding…a fourth kidding…a little bit kidding, but if Ben decided to go for it Han would respect his decision and not try to stop or dissuade him.
Brow creasing, Rey darted a glance between them, gave a small shake of her head, and pressed her lips together, breathing in slowly before she continued, "As I was about to explain, I was busy meditating in our original timeline, fighting to hold together the surviving scraps of the Force, when everything suddenly turned inside out and upside down. When my head stopped spinning, I looked around to find myself a Force ghost in a rapidly disappearing reality. Everything was overwhelming, including the strong feeling that the Force needed me somewhere. Before I could decide on what to do, Master Skywalker grabbed me and pulled me through to this side without a by-your-leave, winked at me, and then disappeared."
Rey looked over at Ben with pursed lips. "As for your questions—because of how you both changed things here in the past, I technically can't die since I won't ever be born. So there was no death—good or bad." She held out one hand as if weighing something and shrugged, "Then again, because of those changes I technically never had a life either—good or bad. I no longer exist."
"You exist to me," Ben said firmly.
The rapid fluttering of Rey's lashes as she looked away was her only reaction. "Though I suppose I've always believed that life is what you make of it. As for your question about my supposed death being boring—that's a big no as well. I'm long done with making do with being bored in life or in death." Rey glanced at Ben from the corner of her eyes. "I'll give you that, at least, Ben. You're certainly never boring."
"No, I'm not," Ben said, watching her so intently it made Han a little uncomfortable to be in the same room. "Neither are you. That's why we're perfect together."
"Oh?" Rey met his eyes challengingly. Ben stared back, just as forceful. After a few moments, hesitance, hope, and reluctant wonder started softening the jut of Rey's chin and the firmness of her mouth.
Closing the distance, Ben leaned forward, the hands down by his sides clenching as if he were fighting the urge to reach out and touch her to anchor her to him. "We're meant to be together, Rey. Always. As one."
Han had expected a better line. That was so forceful, clunky, and awkward. Is this how Ben normally flirted with women? His social skills were practically non-existent. Leia was a diplomat and Han was one of the best conmen in the galaxy. How had Ben turned out so different? You'd have thought Ben would've gotten at least a little finesse from his father. Women always loved Han. He was always so smooth and silver-tongued.
(Somewhere in the Force in a now-deleted timeline, Leia rolled her eyes and choked on a snort while Luke fell onto the floor laughing.)
The silence stretched and grew heavy as Rey and Ben stared into each other's eyes, slowly drifting closer. Their breathing synced. They blinked at each other, perhaps communicating without words. Neither seemed to be in a hurry to break the stalemate.
Impatient, Han clapped his hands loudly. "Alrighty then!"
Jumping away from each other, Rey looked down and away, straightening the fall of the sash tucked into her belt as she cleared her throat. Ben shot his father a lethal glare, fists clenching and unclenching as if he were imagining them locked around his father's neck.
It made the collar around Han's neck feel too tight. "Palpatine's spirit is getting more solid, so what do I have to do to kill him for good this time?" Han asked quickly, trying to divert Ben's attention before he killed his dad for the second time.
"Nothing," Rey said, back straightening as her chin went up. "This next part is for Ben and me to do. That is if he's up to it?" She sent Ben a challenging and—oh yeah, definitely—flirtatious look. Things weren't as hopeless on that front as Han had feared, despite the epic awkwardness. "Unless Ben's too tired to fight," Rey goaded.
"Speak for yourself. To show my manners, I'll even let you attack first," Ben said, waving her ahead of him.
"You have manners?" she asked skeptically. Not waiting for a response, she flipped away from them across the room, up the stairs, and over Palpatine's corpse in a blur, dispelling shadows with her ghostly blue light as she landed in a crouch on the opposite side of the body, lightsaber unlit but at the ready. Ben raced after her, arriving in front of the bubbling column of black shadows hovering above Palpatine's body just as Rey rose to her feet behind it.
Evil cackling filled the room and Palpatine's spirit coalesced between them into a recognizable figure. Floating in midair, he was a black cowled man with ashen skin, shadowed eyes, and skeletal hands wreathed in lightning. "You are weak and your efforts to destroy me are futile. I will show you the true power of the Dark Side!"
Despite his words, Han noticed that Palpatine looked less solid than the other two Force ghosts. Hopefully, that meant he was weaker and just bluffing. Hopefully…yeah, no. Relying on hope wasn't Han's strong suit. He'd rather just rely on the kids and their lightsabers instead (and maybe secretly on the Force). Though even if hope snuck in there too, he wouldn't admit to it.
They looked good together, Han noted with pride as Ben and Rey simultaneously lit their lightsabers and advanced—blue lightsabers wielded by glowing blue ghosts. It was almost pretty except for Palpatine in the middle, who raised his hands and shot lightning at them from his fingertips.
Before Han could get worried, Rey braced her feet and caught the lightning with a wide sweep of her lightsaber. "Is that all you've got?" Twirling her blade, she flicked the lightning contemptuously to the side. Surprise shot across Palpatine's face, twisting into displeasure and rage tinged with fear.
Ben deflected the lightning with the same ease as Rey, discharging it with a sizzle towards Palpatine's corpse as an extra insult. Not waiting for Palpatine to regroup, Ben lunged forward, shoving his still-crackling lightsaber straight through the dark wraith's chest. Perfectly in sync, Rey stabbed Palpatine through the back less than a second later.
Skewered, the black cowled spectre of Palpatine threw back his head and shrieked in rage, straining against the piercing blades of light. Lightning flashed and his monstrous figure swelled and bloated, looking like he was going to swallow the Jedi with his darkness. The tide of battle reversed as both Jedi struggled to hold on.
Ben panted and grunted through bared teeth. Lightning licked down his body as shadows lashed against him, making his hair smoke as it pushed him away from his enemy. The soles of his boots squealed as they slid along the floor and his lightsaber started to slide out of Palpatine's spectre.
"Hold him, Ben!" Rey snapped. Sweat gleamed on her face and her arms trembled as red and black burns formed on her bared skin from the lightning.
"I'm trying," he grunted back, dropping his head and straining forward.
The lights in the room flickered and dimmed, echoed by the dimming of Han's hopes, which had risen despite his pessimism. Despair swelled in his heart. He feared that Palpatine had actually done it—that he'd won and beat them again, that they'd failed everyone they loved, failed the entire galaxy and the Force.
Again.
Palpatine's sinister cackle echoed through the room, chilling Han down to his very soul.
But then Rey screamed defiantly, louder than Palpatine's laugh, and her blue lightsaber blazed all the brighter, clearing a path through the shadows for her to shove her glowing blade deeper into Palpatine's spirit. Ben's light followed hers, dimmer at first but then brighter and brighter until it shone like a star, pulsing in a shared heartbeat that grew with every cycle back and forth until Rey was following his lead, and then he hers again. Ben bellowed and brute-forced his way forward step by painstaking step, slowly shoving his lightsaber into Palpatine's spirit up to the hilt.
Palpatine howled in rage and denial as the black smoke of his body bulged, grotesquely deforming his features and form. His shadows tried to flee, only to be encircled and trapped by the light of the Jedi on either side. No, not just on either side but on every side, in every direction including up and down. Han thought he might be hallucinating, seeing four blades instead of two, and then ten, and then a hundred or thousand or more gleaming lightsabers in a rainbow kaleidoscope of colors surrounding and penetrating every trace of Palpatine's dark spirit, more than should be able to fit into such a small space, wielded by various Jedi hands, paws, claws, and other appendages from species both familiar and strange, some of which Han felt fairly certain were extinct.
Palpatine's wailing cries crescendoed as his shadows surged again, making Han slap his hands over his ears and cower. The light responded by burning all the brighter, all of those Jedi colors combining into a pure white glow. It felt as if all of the stars in the universe were shining into that singular space. Even Palpatine couldn't stand against such unified power. He exploded as the light eradicated his darkness from the inside out.
Han had to shield his face against the flare, feeling blinded.
Countless seconds later, everything went quiet and still. The light shining through Han's closed eyelids dimmed to normal. Releasing a quivering breath, Han opened one eyelid and then the other, cautiously looking around. Palpatine was nothing but a smoking corpse and the shadows all looked normal. Ben and Rey had disengaged their lightsabers and were standing across from each other, catching their breath as they stared into each other's eyes intently. Again.
"Did that do it?" Han asked, rubbing away at the afterimages still flashing behind his lids. "Is he gone for good this time?"
Ben holstered his lightsaber and turned to nod at his father. "Yes, that did it. With help from the Jedi of old and our powers combined, we finally destroyed his spirit. It may have taken multiple tries across two timelines, but we finally stopped him for good and saved the galaxy and the Force. We saved it for all the people we care about." He cast a completely unsubtle look at Rey.
Rey was looking at Han and missed it. "I knew you could do it." She looked over at Ben. "Both of you."
Well, at least she gave the kid that, but boy she wasn't planning on making it easy on Ben.
"You and that crazy Jedi chorus line helped too, but yeah," Han shook his head in wonder, "we did do it." He was impressed despite himself. Part of him had always expected to fail, even as he went through the motions.
Han looked around at the wrecked room and sighed. "So what's next? For me, I mean." He didn't need more of Ben's negativity and deadpan teasing.
"Good things," Rey said with a wide smile that made Ben go a little calf-eyed.
Cocking her head to the side as if listening to something, Rey hummed in her chest. "But first, I'm going to go talk to some Jedi spirits. Just in case, I need to double-check that Palpatine's influence and existence is eradicated, with no way of his soul ever returning."
"Let me come with you," Ben said, stepping forward.
"No. I don't need your help." She lifted her chin. "Stay here and I'll be right back." Looking him up and down, she hesitated for a second and then blurted out, "Be nice to your father while I'm gone." Then she disappeared.
Leaving Ben and Han alone.
Ben glared at the spot where she'd disappeared. He looked back at his father and his expression wiped clean. Turning, he took several steps away to stare out the window at the firefight outside. Crossing and uncrossing his arms, Ben looked like he was about to take off at any moment.
Taking a quick breath, seeing only his lone reflection in the window through Ben's transparent Force ghost, Han blurted out the first thing that came to mind, refusing to let it stay awkward between them and refusing to let Ben keep his distance or walk away. Not again. "Tough girl, loyal, spirited," he said, ticking the points off on his fingers. "I like her." He gave Ben a thumbs up in the window. "Good job, son. You picked a keeper, though she's going to give you a fight before giving in."
"Yes, but she's worth it," he said insistently.
"The good ones always are," Han said, unable to stop the smile from creeping across his face as he thought of the years he spent chasing around and courting Leia.
Turning to face Han, more open after the recital of his girl's virtues, Ben's focus shifted to something over Han's shoulder. His face darkened.
Not Palpatine again! Han thought as he twisted around, hand dropping to his blaster instinctively no matter how futile it probably was. However, there were none of the tell-tale signs of the Sith's return, just the large stateroom and the unconscious body of Skywalker on the far side of the room, partially blocked from view by a support column. The Jedi's fingers twitched, but otherwise, he stayed down, so Han didn't bother worrying about it. Kenobi was unconscious over there somewhere too, but Han couldn't see him from here. "What is it?"
"Why did you shoot him?" Ben tilted his head at Skywalker on the floor.
Han groaned. "Look, you didn't have to endure his attitude for the last three years. He dropped me into Tatooine of all the awful planets in the galaxy! He left my body old on purpose and made me take the long way to get back to you! He jerked me around constantly and popped in and out of sight without warning, only to snap orders and share a vague clue or two. I mean, sure, he had his occasional good moments, but even redeemed from the Dark Side, he's still an arrogant conceited jerk. His past sins make the rest of our bad deeds, even piled together, pale in comparison. Not to mention that he's incredibly irritating! Don't tell me you still hero-worship the slimeball?" Han shot a dark look at Skywalker's prone form. "Or maybe you just developed an aversion to shooting people?"
"Please." Ben gave him a scornful look. "I'm redeemed in the Force, not some craven vegan pacifist joining a cult on some mid-rim low-tech agricultural moon."
Blinking at him, Han snorted. "Your mom's cousin Jim was perfectly happy being a vegan pacifist on that moon and he is a blood relative."
Ben gave him a deadpan look. "Jim Organa was a coward who ran away from his duty to Mom and the other survivors of Alderaan when they needed him most. Last I heard, he was making people call him Jimbobalobba because he thought the rhyme and rhythm made him sound more important than just Jim Organa and he wanted people to forget he was related to Mom. When I was with the First Order, I made sure to put his moon in the path of one of our planned fleet assaults, but then I defected and plans got changed." Ben frowned petulantly. "You want to talk slimeballs—on top of everything else, that man had fourteen kids and four ex-wives. It was probably more by the time I died."
"Well—" Han raised a finger to keep arguing, only to stop as he realized who he was defending. "No, no, you're right. Jimbo was a loser and at last count, he had sixteen kids and six wives. Anyway, what were we talking about? Please continue." He waved a hand in invitation.
"I was saying," Ben said with annoyed emphasis, "that I've matured. I've learned too much about history to idolize my grandfather anymore, especially after interacting with him on a regular basis. That being said, no matter how irritating he is, we need to leave his younger self alive."
"Why?" Han whined. "Because he's your grandfather and hurting him when he's defenseless is wrong?" Luke would certainly think so. "Or because he's not the version that did all those bad things like torturing your mom, dad, and uncle or wiping out the Jedi and enslaving multiple planets? Maybe because forgiveness and mercy are the right things to do and it's the Jedi way?" Han pouted.
"No," Ben waved his hand, "I don't actually care about any of that." He paused and tilted his head. "Though I probably should." He thought for a moment and then shrugged.
Han figured he probably should care too. Probably should, but he didn't either. "I'm not judging, just curious." Leia would be disappointed in both of them, but she was the good influence and moral center of their little family and they all knew it. "So why protect Skywalker?"
"Because Mom hasn't been born yet," Ben said as if Han was being slow. "This whole re-do to give the Force a second chance was more about saving the ones we love than about saving everyone else. We both know that. After all, who really cares about the rest of the galaxy?" Ben flicked his fingers. "Without Palpatine around anymore to threaten the future, the Force and life will continue to exist. You're fine and Rey and I are fine, so that just leaves Mom, and maybe Uncle Luke…," his expression twisted, "but mostly just Mom."
"Your mom?" Han prompted.
Looking down, Ben's mouth worked for a second silently before he choked out, "I'm not proud of how I treated Mom. At one point I almost ki—" he bit off whatever he was about to say, casting a shifty look at his father before he took a deep breath and started again. "The details don't matter anymore. Suffice it to say that she deserves better than how I treated her in that life. Better than what you gave her too." He sent Han a hard look, shoulders going back and chin lifting.
Han nodded quietly, not able to dispute that.
Ben deflated. "Look, without Mom, our victory here is hollow. Mom deserves to live in an era of peace with a family who isn't always dying, turning Dark, or abandoning her. She deserves to be happy and not have to always be on deck organizing and fixing everyone else's problems and putting everyone and everything's needs above her own." He scrubbed a hand across his face. "I don't expect my current spirit to be born anytime soon, if ever, and Uncle Luke, well, he can figure himself out. He'll be fine, he always is, but Mom—Mom deserves better."
"You're right." Han was proud of Ben for thinking of someone outside of himself. Though Han wasn't going to touch that stuff about Luke. He didn't need Ben blowing up on him again, even if he was pretty sure that Ben did care about his Uncle Luke more than he wanted to admit. Otherwise, why would he have been so passionate about killing Luke when he was running around as Kylo Ren? Or maybe Han just hoped Ben cared more because Han still cared about Luke. No point in asking now, though. It wouldn't help and might hurt their tentative detente.
"Your Mom does deserve better. Okay." Han nodded.
"Okay." Ben sighed and dusted off his hands. "So Grandfather just has to survive long enough to knock his wife up with twins," he squinted up at the ceiling, "which isn't until next year since Mom was 53 when she died just before I died in 35 ABY." He nodded and looked back at Han. "After that, whatever happens to him, happens. Now that Palpatine is gone, I've done what I needed to do. The rest of the galaxy can take care of itself."
Brow wrinkling, Han calculated dates in his head. "Hold on, Ben. Leia would've been 54 in 35 ABY, not 53."
"What? No, she was born in 19 BBY. That made Mom 53," Ben said, sticking out his chin.
"I've been celebrating your mom's birthday longer than you've been alive, kid. I think I know her age better than you do." Crossing his arms, Han clucked his tongue. "This is why the droid tutor was always ragging on you to study more. You always mess up dates when jumping before and after the Battle of Yavin."
"No, I don't." Ben's lower lip took on a sullen pout.
"You know you do. We can find C-3PO and ask him for records of your old math grades. I'm sure he still has copies."
Avoiding Han's eyes, Ben muttered, "Not in this timeline."
"Look, your mom was born the same year the Empire formed, which I think happened only weeks after Count Dooku, leader of the Confederacy, was killed over Coruscant by Skywalker on this ship. So-o," Han said in a leading tone of voice, "if your mom was born in 19 BBY, plus 35 ABY, that equals the age of…."
"53," Ben said stubbornly.
Han gave him an unimpressed look, eyebrows arching up and lips pressing thin.
Mouth tightening, Ben looked down and started counting on his fingers. He stopped. Counted again. Grimaced. Huffed. Scowled. "54," he finally said begrudgingly, cutting his hand through the air. "Whatever. That's what droids and computers are for. Who needs to do basic math in their head anymore?"
"People who should've realized that their missing grandmother is already knocked up and doesn't need a sperm donor anymore. It's called basic math for a reason." Han jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "So can I please go back and shoot him again? It doesn't even have to be fatal. Leia's just better off being raised by the Organas again than by a blow-hard like Anakin. Besides, he may not be Vader yet, but he's already started down that path. I can see it in his eyes and the way he cut off Dooku's hands with a bit too much excitement. A man should only show that much passion for a fast ship or a good woman."
Wrinkling his nose, Ben shook his head and sighed. "No, it's too late." He gestured to the side. "Kenobi and Skywalker woke up while we were talking and limped away to the bridge. I hid your presence so they didn't try to kill you."
"What?!" Han jerked around to look and sure enough, they were gone.
"They're currently trying to safely land the ship on Coruscant to keep it from crashing. It's the only way they'll survive, not to mention the millions of people a crashing ship this size will kill if they don't."
Craning his neck, Han looked around and sure enough, the floor where the Jedi had lain was empty. They'd gotten up and left without him even noticing. He'd been too busy focusing on connecting with Ben. "I can't believe they're well enough to walk around and pilot a ship after all of that. Crazy space wizards," Han muttered, shaking his head. "Can we leave then? Crashing on Coruscant sounds like a crummy way to die for the second time." Rubbing his chin, he realized something. "Wait, this ship is massive. It's not made for atmospheric reentry." He cast a sharp look at Ben. "You sure they can land it without our help?"
"They did originally, though I think this part of the ship gets mangled and crushed," Ben said, looking around. "I think I saw a simulation on a school field trip once. That or in a textbook. I remember learning that Count Dooku's body was only recovered in pieces, though we now know that the head was already separated before the crash."
"Huh," Han said, "I don't remember hearing anything about you learning that, but then again I had a tendency to zone out when C-3PO started updating Leia about schedules or just talking in general. Boy does that droid know how to ramble. Not to say I didn't pay attention to you, Ben," he added defensively. "I still remember helping you with your math and engineering homework and the constant arguments with your parents and tutors about doing said homework."
Feeling old despite his decades younger body, Han wrinkled his nose. "In light of recent events, I shouldn't have been such a pushover when you skipped out on doing your math homework to hang out with me fixing the Falcon or those times you convinced me to sneak off with you and race swoop engines." Eyes unfocused as he lingered on memories, Han smiled and said softly, "Though we had some good times, the two of us."
"We did," Ben said, voice unexpectedly thick.
Han looked at him sharply, surprised by the naked emotion on his son's face.
Eyes locked on his feet, Ben's voice went small. "I am sorry, Dad. For everything. Can you forgive me?"
Han felt his heart turn to goo. "Aw, hell, kid. I've screwed up myself too many times not to. I love you. Of course I forgive you. Can you," Han had to swallow to wet his suddenly dry throat, "can you forgive me too?"
Nodding, Ben knuckled at his eyes and cleared his throat. "Yeah, Dad. I forgive you. I know I was a difficult kid, and you drove me crazy sometimes, if not all of the time, but we both made mistakes and I—" he paused, mouth working silently, before finally choking out the words, "I love you too. You were a good dad, no matter what I said or told people. I lied to myself about a lot of things over the years, but deep down I knew that you and Mom always loved me and were trying your best. With the Force, how could I not know?"
"I'm glad," Han said, swallowing convulsively. "I know I was far from a perfect dad. I wish I'd done more and been around more for you, but I screwed that up. I got overwhelmed and scared, so I ran away. I always ran away." Han rubbed the back of his neck and looked down. He was so ashamed of that.
"Yeah, we both ran away," Ben said hollowly. "Except," he paused and swallowed hard, licking his lips and raising his chin, waiting until Han raised his eyes to continue, "except when we were running towards something. The right something."
Heart swelling with love and pride, Han nodded in agreement. "Yeah." His eyes swam with tears and his throat felt thick. He had to swallow before he could speak again. All these emotions were going to kill him. "Despite everything, I'm so glad you were my son."
"Despite everything, I'm glad you were my Dad," Ben said, eyes glistening. Wiping beneath his eyes with his thumbs, he gave a soft little laugh. "And on that note, it's time for me to go. I'm allergic to all of this emotional bloodletting. I'd rather just get my hands bloody and leave the emotions out of it."
Before Han could agree out loud, Ben's head popped up, his expression brightening. "Rey's back." He cleared his throat and assumed a stoic expression that wasn't fooling anyone.
Seconds later, Rey's Force ghost appeared. "Hi," she said with a quick wave. "I checked with the Jedi Masters and Palpatine is well and truly dead and gone. Go team!" She pumped her fist and grinned at them fiercely.
Han couldn't help but smile at her youthful enthusiasm. Life was good. Maybe he could be a little less mean and cynical this time around, since an easy death and return to his family didn't seem to be in the cards. Smile fading, Han felt his stomach clench with the realization that he was going to have to do his life all over again, but this time without his friends or family. No Chewie, Leia, Ben, Luke, or even Lando. He'd take all of his old enemies back again if that meant getting to take his friends and family with him into this new life too (except for reviving Palpatine, of course—and dealing with Vader or Anakin Skywalker).
"Dad?" Ben said with a small wrinkle on his brow. Rey looked over too, her smile fading.
Han banished whatever expression on his face was putting that look in their eyes. No need to worry the kids. "I'm fine."
After another searching look, Ben nodded slowly. "Okay. Well…goodbye, I suppose. We said what needed to be said, so it's time for me to stop delaying and return to the Force. I'll leave the last bit of my power with Rey." He looked over at her. "She'll take care of wrapping things up for you here." Rey nodded resolutely. Ben's face looked sad, though whether at leaving his father or his girl wasn't clear.
"And just how am I going to be wrapped up? Not in chains or like a sandwich, I hope," Han said. Ben gave Han's lame joke a flat look, but at least he didn't look as sad anymore, so maybe it was about Han.
"And on that note, I'm off," Ben said. "Rey?" He held out his hand demandingly.
Dark lashes hiding the expression in her eyes, she stared down at Ben's outstretched hand, hesitating.
Blinking twice, Ben curled and uncurled his fingers. "Please, Rey. If you would," he said with quiet intensity, slightly more polite but no less demanding as he kept his eyes locked on her face. She licked her bottom lip and then bit it nervously, dimpling the pink flesh.
"Rey." Ben's lips caressed each letter of her name, soft, husky, and coaxing. It was an intimate tone used by men the galaxy over to entice a woman to come inside and lock the hatch behind them. He held out his hand expectantly.
Hearing that tone from his son made Han wrinkle his nose uncomfortably. He thought about looking away, but didn't, too curious and shameless to give them the privacy the moment probably deserved.
Glancing up at Ben through her lashes, Rey took a deep breath and stepped forward to delicately take Ben's hand. The glow between their fingers brightened and they both sighed, as if something lost had just been found. Eyes slipping closed, Rey lifted her face and swayed closer to Ben.
Expression awed, Ben leaned down, negating the height difference as he slid his temple against hers. His eyes slipped shut and he breathed in deeply. Slowly their glowing auras merged into one, shifting into a brighter hue closer to white than the usual soft blue. Ben cupped Rey's cheek, shifting to nuzzle his nose against hers, pressing their foreheads together as they breathed in unison. Then the two Force ghosts seemed to overlap and slide into each other, becoming one being of light.
It was both unspeakably beautiful and completely unnerving. Han shook his head and rubbed at his eyes hard enough to make rainbow sparkles fill the space behind his eyelids. People weren't meant to be so transparent and open to each other. Privacy and independence were important. Looking back, Han was relieved to see two distinct people again, though Rey looked brighter and Ben more dim.
Foreheads no longer touching, they opened their eyes and locked gazes, something unspoken passing between them. Ben lifted his hand and tenderly ran the back of his fingers down the side of Rey's face. She touched two fingertips to the center of his open palm and offered him a gentle, understanding smile. Sighing, Ben lowered his hand.
Rey swayed forward as if chasing his touch. Ben froze, looking at her in surprise. Suddenly avoiding his gaze, Rey looked down, her cheeks turning pink. After a moment she peeked back up at Ben through her lashes. Never having looked away from her face, he smiled at her slowly and knowingly.
Blush darkening from pink to red, Rey cleared her throat, looking down to fiddle with the fall of her sash. "Perhaps you should run along now and leave your father to me."
"Perhaps I should," Ben said musingly. "Parting for a short time now will make joining with you in the Force later all the sweeter."
Running a hand through his hair and down the edge of his jacket, he looked away from Rey to meet his father's gaze, missing the way Rey's eyes followed the path of his hand as if mesmerized. "Try to find happiness in the right places and people this time, eh?" he said.
"I will if you'll do the same," Han said.
"It's a deal." Ben started to turn and then stopped, turning back.
Mouth opening, Ben hesitated, not saying anything. Finally, he shook his head with a rueful expression. "Nevermind. My time's over and yours has just begun, as strange and backward as that seems considering you're my father."
"If it's strange, blame the Skywalkers," Han quipped.
Amusement lit Ben's eyes, crinkling their edges. "If we start blaming Anakin for everything, we may never stop."
Han shrugged, unconcerned.
"Deep down, I know you like him," Ben drawled.
Outraged, Han sent Ben a look.
"Very deep down." Ben smirked. For the first time, Han noticed that it looked uncannily like Anakin's. "Good luck, Dad, especially since I have a feeling you'll be seeing a lot of Grandfather going forward. Try not to shoot him again, even if he does deserve it."
Expression turning peaceful, Ben's head tilted back and everything about him brightened, as if he was moving out into the sunlight. "May the Force be with you." Taking an eager step forward, he disappeared before his foot could touch the ground.
Feeling forlorn, heart aching, Han crossed his arms over his middle and sighed.
Rey dusted her hands off and turned to Han with a wry smile. "The will of the Force can be strange and hard to accept at times—take me and Ben, of all people, being a dyad." She snorted and then winced. "No offense."
Han waved off her apology. "None taken."
Relaxing, Rey said, "The Force is a power for good. Even if I don't understand, I trust that it will all work out in the end to a greater purpose than I can currently see. I believe that there is good in Ben, I'm starting to see so much already, and I know I will experience more good things with him in the future if I am patient and trust in the Force. The same principle applies to you. Trust in the Force and be patient." She held out her hand. "Shall we go?"
"Where?" Han asked.
Outside the huge windows, the blackness of space disappeared, replaced by the rapidly approaching ecumenopolis of Coruscant as a ship never meant to land crashed onto the cityplanet below. As the stabilizers failed, Han felt the plates under his feet begin to shudder and sway. Groans, pops, and whistles echoed through the room.
Licking his lips, Han tried one last time. "Can't I just go back to being dead? Not in the crash, just a painless poof and I'm a ghost with you guys again."
"No. The Force wants you to stay and live your new life," Rey said, sounding kind but firm. "It has the potential to be a good one as long as you don't repeat the mistakes of the past. Remember, if you decide to run, don't run away. Run towards the right something." Han gave her a sharp look at repeating Ben's earlier words, but Rey just gave him an enigmatic smile, threaded her arm through his, and pulled, moving him through time and space to somewhere new.
Somewhere good, if Rey was to be believed.
Han wanted to believe.
AN: Only the epilogue to go!
