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They kill the Emperor, like they killed his puppet Snoke. Together.
The lines blur as they fight, and she can’t tell what is Rey and what is Ben anymore. There is just one, them. ReyandBen have four eyes and four arms and four legs. Their four lungs gasp in oxygen and they breathe as one. Bound together in a way no two humans have been for generations.
This is why she has never felt truly whole, this is why Ben has been shattered and rebuilt and shattered again. Perhaps they were each born with only half a soul, an aching emptiness inside of them that could never quite be explained. Something more than the long shadows of their families, either absent or ever-present.
The killer blow is not struck in anger. It is not even struck by them. It is the Emperor’s own power, turned back on himself with Luke and Leia’s lightsabers. The weapons of the last jedi he tried – and failed – to destroy. In his death coil, the Emperor shoots raw power out wildly towards them. He does not strike Rey. But she still feels the pain of it.
Ben falls, and Rey falls with him. Their fates will be the same. She realises this now with a sudden, piercing clarity. She cannot live without him. She does not want to live without him. They lie on the ground, dirty and bloodied.
“Be with me,” Rey says.
She reaches for his hand and he takes it, twining their fingers together. ReyandBen have ten fingers.
“I always was,” Ben says, “I can’t be anything else.”
Rey smiles. His pain is hers, but her strength is his. She is strong enough for the both of them. Their life force is one, shared.
“I’ve got you,” Rey says.
ReyandBen have two hearts, and they are still beating.