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He doesn’t think he’ll be alive long after this. That’s why he reaches down, gathering her in his arms even as they ache and tremble with the effort. Rey’s hair is plastered to the side of her face, framing her eyes as they stare blankly, the fire and life have long since disappeared from their depths. He might not have another chance to hold her, to hug her against his chest and treasure her with every fiber of his being, with ever power he holds. Ben’s heart twists deep in his chest, and the phantom pain of the lightsaber wound she inflicted days ago aches in the off-beat of the pump of his blood, stubbornly keeping him alive. It’s not fair, his blood doggedly pressing on while she lay dead in his arms.
But not for long. He's never been good at giving in.
He leans her over one shoulder, sitting back in the cold arena where Palpatine once ruled, gripping the back of her robes with a tight hand as his knuckles turn white. He can do this. He has to do this. His father’s smile, patient and keen flashes before his eyes, then his mother’s eyes, gentle and waiting, and he breathes one last time before letting his eyes flutter shut, and then he sees no one. He can still feel Rey in his arms. She’s a dead-weight, heavy and unmoving, without autonomy or free will or consciousness. Her body is a shell, gone from his world. Silently, desperately, he reaches out to the force.
I don’t deserve this, your help, he thinks to himself, spreading his hands wide over her back as he deepens his concentration, but if I can do this, then it’s alright. My choices were my own, and so is this one.
A tear slips from his cheek. He knows he’ll be dead soon, and he’s selfishly glad he hugged her once more before he dies. He doesn’t think he’ll have the chance for anything ever again.
The force, like a white sail catching wind in a calm sea, overwhelms him. It wells up within him in an exploding white-gold field of peace and power and everything he needs to bring her back, to save her, once and for all. It swells, he can’t breathe, and then, she moves in his arms.
Blinking, he pulls back, looking at her. It worked, it worked, oh God, it worked.
She looks up at him, eyes as bright as they always have been, and for once, she's looking at him with complete trust and relief. She stares at him, into him, and for a moment, it’s all Ben can do to stare back and smile, wishing he could ever exude as much love and happiness as did.
They look at each other as if time has stopped, silently and completely, and then, she leans in, lips parted, and kisses him.
His heart skips in his chest, and whatever pain he was feeling vanishes as he leans into it, kissing her back with everything he is. For a moment, he thinks maybe this doesn't have to be the end, maybe whatever bond they share is enough to keep them both alive, enough for him to live in this moment with her forever. Just the two of them spinning at the center of the universe, the last Jedi left.
And then he feels it. The force slipping from his grasp, the light at the edges of vision blackening and fringing, and he resigns himself. This is what he expected. This is what he wanted.
It’s more than he could have hoped for, the gift of her body pressed against his in trust and love. He shudders, and Rey pulls back from him, eyes touched in worry, the relief and joy slipping from her face like oil. Ben wants nothing more than to reassure her. But it’s too late, and it all goes black, and the last thing he remembers is the feeling of her lips on his and the look in her eyes when she came back to life.