Work Text:
2004
“Grandpa?” A thin young man, barely out of boyhood, pushed the door open gently and peered into the room. Hux looked at his freckled face, sharp cheekbones, and unruly mop of strawberry blond hair. After spending so much time absorbed in the nostalgia of his box of letters, seeing his grandson was like staring directly into his own past. “It’s almost time. Mom sent me to see if you needed help getting ready.”
Hux started to shake his head no, but then he remembered the bow tie on the closet floor and asked the boy to bring it to him. His grandson helped him adjust his bow tie and draped his suit jacket over his shoulders. From the wooden box he pulled a single, unopened letter and placed it in his breast pocket.
It was just the three of them in the car: Hux; his daughter Benedetta, whom everyone called Betty; and Betty’s son Dominic, who drove. They rode in silence with the exception of Betty’s soft sniffles and the intermittent sound of her discreetly blowing her nose.
Hux was surprised by the sheer number of people who were gathered at the church. His ex-wife Virginia was by the door, talking with their son Brendol III. Rey and Finn’s daughters Venus and Ayo, Venus’s girlfriend, and Ayo’s husband sat together on a bench, whispering politely. The youngest generation, Hux’s grandchildren, along with Rey and Finn’s grandchildren, stood awkwardly near one wall, occasionally giving each other hugs. Hux’s old colleagues Poe Dameron, Jess Pava, and Hana Calrissian had all shown up. There were even people he barely recognized - artists, collectors, and curators who had known Ben professionally.
He walked past all of them without making eye contact, adopting his old straight-backed military posture as best as he could while using a cane. Rey and Finn were seated in the front pew, their arms linked, their hands clutching each other tightly. Hux inclined his head in greeting and sat next to them, directly in front of an enlarged photograph of a young Ben Solo in his military uniform.
“How are you holding up?” Finn asked quietly. His eyes were red and puffy from crying. Rey, who was sitting in between the two men, placed a gentle hand on Hux’s shoulder.
Hux almost replied with, “I’ve been worse,” but he realized that he hadn’t. Ben Solo’s death was in fact the worst event of Hux’s many decades of life. He drooped his head and shook it sadly.
As the priest read from the Bible and delivered his religious remarks, Hux thought about how little Ben had cared for the Church and couldn’t help but smile. He quickly remembered where he was and covered it with his hand. Hux had never been good at showing the appropriate emotions, something Ben had frequently teased him about.
Even as Finn sobbed and choked his way through his attempt at delivering a eulogy, Hux couldn’t find it in himself to cry or even wipe the inappropriate grin off his face. He recalled instead how the four of them had been at a bar when the Celtics won the 1986 NBA Finals. Finn had been crying tears of joy then, and Ben had bought a round for the whole bar with Hux’s money.
Hux didn’t cry during the procession or when Ben’s casket was lowered or when the funeral attendees each came up to him to express their sympathies. Slowly, everyone left except for Rey and Finn, who offered Hux a ride home. They were waiting in the car to allow him some time to say goodbye to Ben alone.
Pulling the letter out from his jacket pocket, Hux thought of the hospital waiting room. He hadn’t been allowed to see Ben during his last moments. Officially, they weren’t “family.” Rey had argued vehemently against the policy, but Hux had stopped her before she could get thrown out of the hospital for disorderly behavior. In the end, she had been the one by Ben’s side as he died. Finn had stayed in the waiting room with Hux, holding his arm in a strong but comforting grip. After the doctor had delivered the bad news, Rey handed Hux a sealed envelope.
Hux, my love,
I release you from your promise. You have more than fulfilled your end of the bargain. Not only did you save my life, but with you I felt truly alive. I love you more than words can express.
Yours forever and always,
Ben
Hux looked up from the letter, his gaze settling on the double headstone in front of him.
Benedetto Organa Solo, 1926-2004
Brendol Francis Hux II, 1921-
“My chains are broken. Love has freed me.”
Finally, he allowed himself to cry.