Work Text:
1308...1309...days
Nobody makes paper calendars anymore but he insists. His caretakers threw a fit when he started marking the walls. It wasn’t enough that a holopad could easily count the days for him. He needed something physical, something etched into reality. He needed something to mark the physical void that had been left behind when she died.
Ben Solo is 97 years old. His hair is white and thin, skin riddled with liver spots and scars. Even 68 years later, the scar on his face runs deep and red. He supposes that it isn’t helped by the fact that he grows even paler by the minute. Every day, it is a reminder of what he lost 3, almost 4 years ago. It isn’t fair! It isn’t right! She was younger than me! Why am I left here alone?! Every day, he asks himself this question. He thinks that maybe he is being punished for his cruelty in his younger years. A pulse of the Light washes over him. No, he isn’t being punished. Rey had endured years of starvation, dehydration, and abuse in her childhood. That damage stays with you. It was a miracle she lived as long as she did.
He lives alone on his estate in Chandrila, aside from his caretaker droids. His oldest child, Charis, visits a couple times a week while his other descendants visit less often but let him know he is loved. Charis recently retired from the Senate and her child is now a senator in her stead. Leia would have been proud. Han too, Ben imagines. Even though he knows his father would have snide comment or two up his sleeve. All his children went on to become leaders, either in government, religion, or industry. His children and grandchildren fight for balance and order in the galaxy. All his descendants are strong in the Force but it is neither a point of pride or something to hide.
Ben’s daily routine is simple. He wakes up and a droid helps him to the refresher. His joints ache and his muscles lose more of their tautness every day. He bows his head in shame as the droid cleans him after toileting. Then he is fed a light breakfast with only the mildest fruits and vegetables for his sensitive stomach. He is also given a protein drink to wash it all down. Ben is fed similar for midday and evening meals. He never cared much for dessert and didn’t miss it.
Between his midday and evening meal, he makes his way to the far eastern side of his estate. The Millenium Falcon sits there. She hasn’t flown in over thirty years. Slip-shod repairs, makeshift parts, and percussive maintenance finally took their toll on the old girl. Not even the droid minds escaped the passage of time. They corrupted and became unresponsive over twenty years ago. The death of the ship brought about its own special brand of mourning. This singular ship had saved the galaxy multiple times. It was Ben and Rey’s home until she fell pregnant with Charis. Leia had told them both that it was entirely possible that Han’s father had built the ship or some part of it. The ship held family history as well as galactic history. Nobody ever did beat Han’s route on the Kessel Run.
When Rey died, he had it gutted and fashioned into a mausoleum for his beloved. She was laid to rest in a blue capsule that now sat in the center of the old ship. An empty red capsule sat next to hers, ready and waiting for him to cross over. A good portion of the roof was now transparisteel. Ben could watch the sunset with his beloved through it. He ached to hold her hand again, to brush a lock of hair away from her face, to kiss her temple, and whisper sweet things to her.
When the skies just started to darken, Ben would rise and make his way back to the house. His meal would be ready for him as always, as well as the calendar that he had been marking. The journey back home took longer and longer every day. Ben surmised that he should really have the droids to accompany him but he still held on.
Today, he found Charis sitting at the table waiting for him. She rose slowly, her own age showing. As a young man, he never imagined having children, let alone watching them grow old. “Hello, Daddy,” she greeted meekly.
“Good evening, my love. I was just visiting your mother.”
“I know, Daddy. You’re so sweet. How are you doing?”
Ben slowly sat down. His hips ached as he bent to accommodate the chair but he soon settled in. Charis followed. “I’m managing. The droids take good care of me.”
“I’m glad.” They both sat back and regarded each other for several minutes. Ben reflects on the little black-haired spitfire that would run circles around them. She now sits stoically in a modest chair with silver hair, a near-exact image of her mother at that age. In another timeline, she would have been Queen of Alderaan but it was not meant to be. She would have made a brilliant queen but she is just as brilliant as a senator. He is sure that she is remembering the tall and strong father that was wrapped around her finger with his wavy black hair that she liked to pull on as a baby. Charis, or her siblings, never feared anyone because he would be the first to rain hellfire on anyone who tried to hurt his children. Even at 97, he would find the strength to do so. He is sure of it.
With a sigh, Ben reached for his calendar and marked another day. 1310. One thousand, three hundred, and ten days without his Rey of Light.
“You’re marking the days since she’s been gone,” Charis stated flatly. His habit wasn’t a secret but Charis had never visited in the evening. She had never witnessed this particular habit.
“I am,” he replied, not looking up at her.
“Momma never talked about Jakku much. But she did tell me that she marked the days on the wall of her shelter, waiting for her family to come back. Are you waiting for her, Daddy?” Ben looked up at her now, just as her hand reached over to clasp his. He suddenly remembered the first time touching Rey’s hand over a fire in a stone hut. He wants to pull his hand away but he wouldn’t dare hurt his little girl’s feelings. Old and grey be damned, she is still his little girl.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” he whispers gently. He honestly hadn’t made that connection. Is he waiting? Or is this some exercise in how long he can hold on?
As if hearing his thoughts, Charis leaned toward his ear and whispered, “If Momma does come back for you, I want you to go. We’ll be alright.” Charis then kissed her father’s temple. A single tear erupted from his eye. His final wishes had long been sorted but it was freeing to realize that he had permission to cross over when the time came.
The two ate in silence. When they were finished, Charis escorted her father to his chambers. The droids helped him toilet, bathe, and dress him for bed. Then Charis helped him to lay down. She held his hand again and told him stories about her children and grandchildren as well as her nieces and nephews. Soon, he was asleep.
**********************
A brush of his cheek made Ben bolt upwards. He looked at the clock and saw that only several hours had passed. Charis had fallen asleep by his side.
“Ben…” Something whispered his name. No, ‘whispered’ wasn’t the right word. He felt it more than heard it. Something he hadn’t felt since...
“Rey…" Now his voice had taken on the same quality. He realized then that he was no longer old and frail but youthful and strong. His 97 year old body would never be able to sit upright in bed without help. He looked away from Charis to the other side of the bed. There stood his beloved wife in a serene, blue halo. She was young again. Her chestnut hair fell in waves, her skin smooth and vibrant. Her almond shaped eyes that she passed on to all their children were full of love.
“I’ve come back for you, sweetheart.” Rey held out her hand to him. Just as that night in a stone hut on a lonely island, his hand trembled as he took hers. And just like then, the world around them faded into oblivion.
1310 days...