Chapter Text
Palpatine had taken everything.
No longer could she feel the Force weaving its safety net around her. And Ben… Ben was gone, too. The strength of their bond had been siphoned dry to replenish the Dark Lord. And now that he and the rest of the Sith were gone, she just wanted to rest. She felt hollow at the absence of life around her. Tears welled in her eyes as she realized, with a sinking irony, that she was completely alone yet again. Her weary hands relinquished the legacy of the Skywalker blades and her knees buckled beneath her. She didn’t have the energy to fight a second more.
In the end, Ben had been right all along.
She was nothing.
Silence rang in her ears; a soothing lullaby that carried her back whence she came.
To nowhere. To nothing.
She marveled in the quiet; the final peace of no longer being connected to everything- to everyone. The burden of the Force had been lifted from her shoulders. Her duty to the Resistance fulfilled. She was weightless.
The easy emptiness did not last, however. Rey began to burn. Her soul started to knit itself back together. Sensation returned to her first. She was being held? The peaceful quiet had turned to blood pounding in her ears. There was a warm weight on her stomach and a familiar hum in the back of her mind. Its soothing presence elicited a moan she didn’t feel escape her lips. Her bloodied hand came up to find his, and with the contact of his skin, her eyes finally found focus.
Rey sat up when she felt him trembling beneath her and met his intense gaze. He took a haggard breath then, like he’d waited an eternity for her to come back to him. “Ben?” a hopeful whisper. Any louder, and the noise might shatter whatever dream this was. She drifted her hand towards his face but hesitated. What if he’s not really here? She decided to chance it anyway when absolute relief poured from his warm eyes. If this was the afterlife, she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass her by.
Rey crushed her mouth to his, reveling in the sweet softness of his lips. He felt like coming home. Her fingers threaded through the damp curls of his hair, and she felt him sigh, pulling her against him. She could feel the staccato of his heart beating through his chest. He was alive. Stars, the rightness of it all. She could have held him there forever. They breathed each other in until an uncontrollable smile bloomed on her face, forcing them to separate. Her happiness bled into him and for the first time in what was probably years, he smiled, too. His sheer beauty humbled her and stole her breath. Rey caressed a thumb across the foreign curvature of his mouth, and in that moment, she knew that the man before her was the one meant for her future.
But the humming in the back of her mind began to fade. His breath hitched and his smile fell. What’s wrong? she sent through their bond. Ben collapsed to the ground, and time began to slow. No. This couldn’t be happening. She’d only just gotten him back! She followed him down, desperately reaching for the Force to try and stop whatever was taking him from her. But before she had the opportunity, he faded; his clothes sinking with their sudden emptiness. Ben Solo had given Rey purpose. He’d given her life. And in a singular moment, he was gone. Tears welled in her eyes, and all she could do was stare at the space he’d occupied just a moment before. A lightning strike screamed with nearness and broke her reverie. Everything was too fast: her shallow breaths, her racing heart, her spiraling thoughts. Hurriedly, she gathered the remnants of the man who’d saved her life and won her heart and headed back towards her ship.
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Her mind gratefully numbed as she went through the pre-flight checks of the X-Wing. Flying was muscle memory. She didn’t need to think while flipping switches and pressing buttons. She certainly didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts running wild, either. Her vision lost focus as the stars blurred around her in hyperspace. Was it just vibrations in the mainframe of the old, water-logged fighter, or was there a faint hum in the back of her mind? She beat her hope down before it could take root and focused on the task at hand.
After what seemed like only moments, Rey found herself slowly descending the ladder from the X-wing and stepping on the lush foliage of Ajan Kloss. She ambled through the throng of Resistance fighters celebrating their glorious win, a ringing in her ears that dampened all but the rhythmic sound of her breaths.
“Rey!” Finn’s voice echoed through the fog of her mind, and she found herself in a three-way embrace. They were so happy, but Rey could only muster a smile to her lips. It was a hollow reflection of their joy that didn’t quite meet her eyes and she wondered at her feelings while being held by her friends. She wanted to be happy with them, but all she could feel was a deep-seated emptiness eating at her very center.
Rey participated in the festivities on autopilot; milling around comrades, nodding her head when appreciation came her way, but not engaging in conversation. It felt like her soul was sinking with every encounter. Why was it so much more painful to feel lonely in a crowd? Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft, mournful howl and a drink being pushed into her hands from a furry paw. The amber liquid burned her nostrils from where she held it while examining the glass. This must be from Chewie’s special store of Thykarann Whiskey. There was no need to say anything. He knew the brand of medicine best suited to keep thoughts at bay. Rey tipped the drink back and drained its contents, not caring about the consequences. Kriff, did it burn; yet, for a moment, the physical pain quieted the monsters lurking in the shadows of her mind. The Wookiee watched, impressed but with a hint of sadness that turned his mouth down at the corners. He simply nodded at her before pulling out a large, silver flask and refilled her glass. Rey turned towards her friends, then, gathered around a fire while they congratulated one another. She tuned out their tales of victory over the First Order, focusing instead on the flames dancing sensually in the middle of the circle. Quietly, she nursed her whiskey until she felt the heat spread from the inside out. The crackling embers and wispy tendrils sizzling in the air took her back to another place- a burning ship, an outstretched hand, a desperate plea.
It was Finn who noticed her thousand-mile stare. Realizing she’d been caught in a moment of weakness, she beat her emotions back into submission and turned away from the group. He whispered something to Rose and began to follow her. She’d known he wouldn’t let it go so easily. He’d identified that look- it was the same haunted expression he wore after witnessing the massacre on Jakku--Before she’d rescued BB8, before she’d involved herself in an age-long war, before she was anything other than an abandoned scavenger on a desolate planet childishly holding onto hope that her parents would come back for her after more than a decade.
“Rey?” She paused. His voice was gentle, like he knew he might spook her. Rey turned when his hand brushed her elbow. She could feel his confusion at seeing the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.
Rey worked to pull herself together, attempting to cover her despair with a conversation and quickly blinking back the moisture from her eyes. “What did you want to tell me?” Finn looked puzzled. “You’ve been trying to tell me something… What is it?”
He tensed before he spoke; his apprehension alerting her senses. She’d known that he’d developed deeper feelings for her during their friendship, but she’d thought that Rose’s confession on Crait and their increased closeness would have caused them to dwindle. Rey didn’t want to be put in the position of being the bad guy. “The Force…” he hesitantly began. “I can feel it.” A pregnant pause filled the air between them. “I felt it when you…” He lost his voice and swallowed, barely able to meet her eyes. Somehow, she mused sadly, a profession of unrequited love would have been preferable to this.
“I can’t help you,” Her voice quivered with thinly veiled panic, but she held his gaze. His face filled with confusion, and she wanted nothing more than to put distance between them before he released a floodgate of questions upon her.
She tried to turn away from him then, but he hardened his grip on her arm. “How did you defeat him?” he pleaded, but she refused to answer. “Rey,” he pressed, “what happened on Exegol?” His query left a bitter taste in her mouth and she replied with a silent shake of her head. He’d never understand. Celebration and praises rang through the trees for hours. Until now, no one had cared what it cost her to win this war for them. Understanding rolled over her then, an icy wave that rushed into her soul and trickled down her spine. She had always been just a weapon. Nothing but a means to an end.
Nothing.
But not to him, she reminisced, distracting herself with a fraying edge of her blouse. “What did Palpatine do to you?” It was an almost imperceptible flinch at that name, but Rey set her jaw in defiance of her lineage. Some things are stronger than blood. But Finn was determined to get answers, to try to break through her walls. “And what about Ren?” Rey took in a sharp breath.
There it was. Her heart stopped. The fine hairs on the backs of her arms stood on end. She felt sick. And, without preamble, the tears she’d earlier refused began to crest over her lashes. She firmly met his gaze one last time to finally give him an answer.
“We died.” Her stomach churned acid now, eating into her heart with a nauseating pain. She rebuilt her resolve when he didn’t have anything to say to her admission, the weight of her words only just sinking in. “Go back to the party, Finn,” she said, barely audible but with authority. Rey turned and headed towards the Falcon.
This time, no one followed her.
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BB8 wooed a greeting as she entered and closed the boarding ramp, engaging the lock to deter any visitors. Out of ritual, she knelt down and adjusted his antenna, but couldn’t say anything to him through the lump in her throat. Instead, Rey walked through the arched corridors until she entered the main living quarters, further barricading herself from the outside world. As the sole female on ship, she had her own makeshift bedroom setup in the engine room while the guys spread out in the crew quarters. The machinery there was a comfort reminiscent of her home in the fallen AT-AT. As she headed that way, she stopped by the refresher, kicking off her boots in the hall. She quickly cleansed under the sonics, wishing that they could also scrub her mind as she continued to beat down memories threatening to break the barrier of her control. Once in the safety of her room, she began to strip down, donning a fresh pair of small clothes she retrieved from a bag tucked away in the corner. It was much warmer on the jungle planet than it was in the depths of space, and she just didn’t have the energy for anything else. The din of the engine had often lulled her to sleep, and the soft, full size of the mattress was a luxury she hadn’t yet gotten used to.
Rey was bone weary, at last forced to face the day, and now unable to protect herself from the aftermath. She turned towards the bed and froze. There, next to her pillow, was a dark fabric, neatly folded, with a small handwritten note lying on top. Her bottom lip began to quiver, and a flood of tears streamed down her cheeks. A hollow cry wrenched from her throat as she sank to the floor. Slowly, she crawled onto the bed, hiccupping as she reached for the paper. She recognized the looping swirls of Shyriiwook expressing deep condolences. She should have known Chewie would have caught his scent on the nights when the bond flourished between them. After Crait. Before Pasaana. When they continued to explore their connection and what they meant to one another.
Shaking hands reached for the sweater, sobs now fully racking her body. She hugged the tattered garment to her chest, crying into the fabric that smelled just like him. And Oh Force, the memories. Slowly, she pulled it over her head, the material soothing against her bruised and battered skin as she desperately tried to feel again the warmth he once provided. Rey lay down on the mattress, pulling the duvet to her shoulders, and curling into herself. She imagined what it was like to last feel his arms around her.
There, in the silence and alone with her thoughts, she was nothing but a broken dyad, shattering into a million more little pieces, knowing that she would never again be whole. Her soul had split when she finally allowed his name to fall from her lips. “Ben!” she cried, over and over and over again until her voice was hoarse, until her heart had bled dry, until fitful sleep finally claimed her.