Chapter Text
Ben sat on the front steps of the Autumn House, his father’s dog sitting protectively by him, raising his hackles whenever the seagulls ventured too close. From here, he could see his father’s beloved car in the driveway, already looking sad and dilapidated.
His mother paid to have it transported here—he knew it made her too sad to look at it, much less drive it. Because if she did, she would think of the reason why they were coming to the Autumn House anyway.
Behind his father’s car, he could see his mother’s car. His aunt and uncle’s were in the garage, the maze of junk and gears where his uncle liked to tinker with his car and his wife’s, as well as whatever else he could get his hands on.
His mother’s was done in the Alderaanian style, after one of the adoptive families that helped raise her as a child. Shiny, white, and polished, it was sleek and powerful. Just like his mother.
If he wanted to, he could close his eyes and smell the salt of the sea and forget. He could try to forget why Chewbacca followed him around and not his father. He could try to forget why he and his three siblings had worn only black over the past week. He could try to forget the reason why they were here.
But he couldn’t, because then he would miss the moment he knew was coming soon, when his mother would finally tell Luke and Mara that they’d been generous enough, but she had to get back to work. When she would leave without a fuss—as she always had, rationalizing that it would only make them miss her more. But both he and his mother would know that she wouldn’t be coming back.
He wanted to understand. He wanted to be patient, knowing that this was the place where it had all started. He knew this was where she had lost three sets of parents. He knew that Chewbacca and the Falcon and four kids with Han’s smile and him with Han’s smile was too much. He knew that here was magic, and with it the unspoken word, the untold story that everyone knew all the same.
He wanted to be the too sensitive, too quiet child his mother had always adored for his ability to sympathize and somehow understand.
But he couldn’t deny his anger. It boiled within him, threatening to overflow and lash out at everyone and everything.
Because one week ago, everything had been okay. One week ago, they had been on a long-deserved vacation to the beach.
Seven days ago, his father died.
He remembered the moment with perfect clarity. All of them had been in the water, even him. He’d been tentative about it, but somehow Han always knew how to gently push his son into doing the daring.
There was no politics, no pager beeping, no shenanigans with the Falcon. Just a perfect summer day, with everyone together.
Then his mother’s smile melted, giving way to white-faced horror.
“No,” she murmured, reaching a hand to her ear. “No!”
“What’s wrong, Your Worship?” Han liked to use the somewhat mocking nickname to tease his wife. “Forgot to take an earring out, or—“
When he got a good luck at the look on her face, the smirk on his faltered.
Every one of the children could sense something was wrong.
“We need to leave, then,” Han said. “We can escape this thing—“
“Han, no, I don’t know if it’s possible—“ she reached for him, desperate in a way that Ben had never thought was possible for his mother.
“Come on kids, we’re leaving,” Han said. “We can go check out the fair, eat as much funnel cake as we like—“
When his father reached the sand, that was when Ben heard it. The ticking, like a clock and a beetle’s noises. He realized that this was what his mother had heard. He rushed out of the water, seeing it just before it approached his father.
Han fell to the ground, and the beetle disappeared.
“Daddy!” Jaina splashed wildly as she ran out of the ocean. “Daddy!”
“Let me through,” Leia ordered, and she reached down to feel her husband’s pulse. Ben recognized it, as she had taken the pains to teach her children life-saving skills at a young age.
It wasn’t until now that Ben realized why.
“It was the beetle,” he said quietly. “Maybe it was poisonous—“
“It’s not poisonous.” Leia closed her eyes. She seemed to sink within herself. “It was a deathwatch beetle. They signal deaths in our family. When you hear the deathwatch beetle ticking—it means there’s no going back.”
That was when Ben realized that his father would never wake from the dunes again.
“I have to get back to work, I can’t stay here.”
Ben was brought to attention by his mother’s voice. She was a Senator and her voice rang clear and true through any surface—even enchanted walls such as these.
“But the kids need you,” Luke argued. “And you could use the time, I’m sure—“
“I don’t need time for sympathy, I never have,” Leia replied. “And the kids don’t need me, they spent most of their time with Han. They have you and Mara now, and you’ll teach them magic, finally. They’ll be excited about that, and they’ll forget about me.”
“Surely you don’t believe that—“
“It doesn’t matter what I believe, Luke.” Leia’s voice was firm. “Time doesn’t stop for anybody. I’ve got bills to pass, work to be done. I can’t stay. I’m sorry.”
There was a pause. “I know. Do you want to tell the kids goodbye, then?”
“No.” Ben could picture his mother shaking her head. “It’s better this way. Besides, they’re used to it.”
Ben never had his vision go red with rage before.
When it cleared, Leia had walked right by him and Chewy, and was headed for her car.
“Hey!” Ben stood up as he shouted.
Leia whirled around, and for moment, he saw guilt on her face—but it hardened to resolve.
“Keep a hand on that dog, Ben, I don’t want to run him over on accident.”
“You’re leaving? Without saying goodbye?”
“It’s just politics, Ben, I’ll be back when there’s a recess around Thanksgiving—“
“So that’s it?” His voice grew. “You’re just abandoning us?”
“You’re staying with Luke and Mara.” Leia’s expression softened. “You’ll learn magic here, just like we’ve always been able to do. You’ll like it here—I grew up here, and while there’s things I don’t miss, there’s a part of me that will always miss the Autumn House.”
“Then stay! Stay for your children, for us!” Ben was crying as he shouted.
But that didn’t move Leia, at least outwardly.
“I’m sorry, Ben.”
That was all she said before she got in the car, before she left. Ben had fallen to the ground, trying to chase her. But he hadn’t even gotten past the picket fence and charming gate. He lay in the grass and the dirt, Chewy by his side, until it was dark and Mara had come out to call him to dinner.
“Ben?”
There was always a sorrow when Mara called for him. He had been partially named after Luke’s teacher and the boy Mara had desperately wanted to be born.
He picked himself up off the dirt. “Coming, Aunt Mara.”
His aunt was as tough as nails, one look with her emerald eyes told you that much.
But they were softer now.
“It’ll be okay,” she promised. “We’ll teach you magic, and there will be no bedtimes, no rules, and chocolate cake for breakfast.”
But Ben didn’t want any of that. He wanted his mother. And he desperately wanted his father back.