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i. The less we say about Ben Solo (yes, he’s Kylo Ren now, but Anakin is about as willing to use that name as he is to piss off Padmé again), the better.
Suffice it to say, Anakin’s considering giving Obi-wan an especially huge fruit basket for putting up with his bullshit for the longest time.
--
ii. Hux is about as Force-sensitive as a table. An especially haughty and sneery table that reminds Anakin far too closely of Tarkin for his comfort, and under normal circumstances, Anakin probably wouldn’t even bother to talk to him.
But he’s bored as shit, Ben’s still not listening to him, and Anakin’s just about out of shits to give, so he perches himself on top of a table while Hux is re-drafting a speech of some kind and says, “I don’t think you know just how rebellious some systems can get. And I’m speaking from experience here, the Rebellion had to start somewhere.”
Still nothing. That’s fine, Anakin is completely used to being ignored by now. Just for shits and giggles, he peers over the draft, reads it over and says it out loud as theatrically as possible. Hux, of course, ignores him, which is just hurtful considering that Anakin is incredibly good at dramatics when he wants to be.
“By any chance,” says Anakin, “are you related to Tarkin? Grand Moff Tarkin? Died on the Death Star for being stupid enough to underestimate the Rebellion’s chances Tarkin? Because I wouldn’t be surprised if you were.”
Hux still doesn’t answer, but he does frown down at his speech. “No, no,” he mutters, “hated Resistance just isn’t vicious enough. What about--loathsome? And led by that treasonous--”
“You say one word about my daughter and I will kick your ass,” says Anakin, and one fun thing he’s found about being a Force ghost is that when you’re pissed off enough, you can make the temperature in a room drop noticeably.
The temperature drops.
(Hux shivers. For a second, it’s as if he heard someone, saying, “Finish that sentence. I dare you.”
Hux did not get where he is by taking uncalculated risks. General Leia Organa is a formidable opponent, one of the heroes of the Rebel Alliance, and he’s not too sure Kylo Ren’s let go completely of all his attachments just yet. He still has that damnable helmet on a stand, after all.
He deletes the part about Organa and writes, the loathsome Resistance instead.
He’ll have to get someone to fix the leak in his room at some point in time.)
--
iii. “That one over there,” says Anakin as the stormtrooper escorting Poe Dameron out of the Finalizer passes him by in the hangar bay. “It’s brand-new, the weapons systems are operational and it’s got enough fuel to last you for a week or so. I recommend about--two systems away from here, if you really want to live for more than a few days.”
The stormtrooper’s helmet jerks in his direction, as if he heard him, then looks back over his shoulder. “Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm,” he mutters to himself, like a mantra, like the words will make it true.
“I am calm,” says Dameron, sounding remarkably unruffled for someone freshly tortured, as Anakin strides along.
“I’m talking to myself,” says the stormtrooper, attention all on Dameron.
He doesn’t notice Anakin again, but that one glance is enough for Anakin to think, oh, he heard me.
--
iv. Phasma isn’t Force-sensitive either, but sometimes Anakin talks to her anyway. Out of everyone, she reminds him more of Piett and Needa--where Tarkin was an incredible piece of work, Piett and Needa were slightly more impressive, for Imperial officers.
“Don’t feel too bad about that stormtrooper that left,” says Anakin, perching on top of her table and swinging his legs as she argues with Hux. “In fact, I think he’s something of a trailblazer. The Empire didn’t have many stormtroopers who deserted, they’ll be all the fashion for the First Order.”
“This was his first offense,” Phasma’s saying.
“Good for him,” Anakin says, smug.
“General,” calls a woman, and Anakin glances over as Hux hurries to her station, “they’ve been hit.”
“Wait,” says Anakin, “what?”
--
v. “Don’t,” says Anakin, when he sees Han Solo staring across at Ben. There is a chasm beneath them, and the Force shakes with tension, with fear and loss and hope, that damnable thing, Leia’s hope hanging over Solo, mixing with his own. “Go home. Leia’s waiting.”
Here’s the thing:
There are two Solos on that bridge.
Leia’s waiting for both of them, but Anakin knows, with a sudden unshakeable dread, that only one will leave this planet alive, and the other--
“Don’t,” he calls, after Han, after Ben. “No, no, no--”
(When Ben was just a few months old, Han traced his cheek with a finger, saw him open his wide dark eyes, and whispered, hello, Ben, in awe. I love you, he had whispered, and kissed the top of his little head.)
A flash of red light.
(Han traces his son’s cheek. I love you, he whispers, and breathes out.
Falling, he finds, is just as easy as flying.)
Anakin doesn’t know who screams first--him, or Chewbacca, or Rey. Does it matter? It’s not as if anyone’s going to hear him.
--
+ i. “Rey,” he whispers, desperate. No one’s heard him yet, he honestly kind of doubts an unconscious scavenger who’d rejected his lightsaber out of hand can hear him, but it’s worth a try. Her friend the stormtrooper--Finn, he mentally corrects himself--is fighting Ben, and Anakin can see the outcome of that fight easily enough without precognition. “Rey,” he says, louder. “Rey, wake up.”
She wakes up.
She blinks up at him.
“Who’re you?” she asks.
Anakin doesn’t have mass, so he can’t pull her to her feet, but he stands up with her anyway. “You can hear me?” he asks.
“Well,” says Rey, “yes. Why?”
“You’re the first one in a while,” says Anakin. He’s deliriously happy that someone, finally, someone’s heard him on this thrice-damned planet. He’ll tell Padmé later, they’ll celebrate this long-awaited breakthrough after this planet is blown all to hell. “Come with me. Your friend’s in trouble.”
Rey’s expression hardens, and she says, “Yeah, I know,” and before Anakin can say anything more she’s off in the direction the fight went, and all he can do is keep up with her.
--
(“You need a teacher!” Kylo Ren yells. “I can show you the ways of the Force!”
“He’s half-trained,” Rey’s new ghostly friend says, where he’s perched on a branch just in her view. He looks deeply unamused. “I’m surprised his lightsaber hasn’t fallen apart on him, it’s completely unstable. One of these days it’ll explode on him, I swear.”
Rey’s gaze flicks back to Kylo Ren. I think I can manage, she doesn’t say.
But she sees her new friend grin, out of the corner of her eye, as if he heard that thought loud and clear.)
--
The dark side pulls at her--pulls at them both, really, the same way the light pulls at Ben even now, after what he’s done. Rey wants to strike him down in all her anger, all her white-hot rage and grief and pain, and Anakin is so, so tempted to let her. You killed your own father, he wants to spit, when he was trying to bring you home, you broke your mother’s heart--
(When Ben was a few months old, Anakin skimmed ghostly fingers through fine hair, kissed the top of his head, and whispered, hello, little Ben, hello. I’m your grandfather. I’ll keep you safe, I promise.)
He promised.
One last try, then.
“Rey,” he says, soft, pleading. Don’t fall like I did, don’t go down this path, it’ll bring you only heartache. He could say that, he could give her so many reasons why she shouldn’t, but he says, “Please.”
She hears him.
The earth splits in between them, Rey and Anakin on one side, Ben on the other. Ben staggers to his feet, a scar across his face, but he’s alive, and that’s what matters.
“Get out of here, find your friend before this planet explodes,” Anakin tells Rey, and she runs as far and as fast as she can. To her friend’s side, he’s sure. He looks back at Ben.
“Grandfather?” Ben whispers, shock and suspicion written across his ruined face.
Anakin watches him for a long moment, this grandson of his, following in the wrong footsteps, trying to cloak himself in a legacy that should’ve been left alone, buried underneath the dirt of Endor. “Took you long enough to hear me,” he says, “Ben.”
He turns away, and doesn’t check to see if Ben heard him.
(The thing is:
He does.)