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Chapter Text

In the summer between her final year of undergrad and her first year of medical school, Rey Johnson spent a frankly embarrassing amount of time compiling various rules and tips that she’d either read online, or heard directly from some of her older friends who were in the home stretch or had recently begun their residencies. At some point, she’d managed to compile a top 10 list called “First Day of Med School—Do’s and Don’ts”, in no particular order:

1. Develop an effective study schedule ASAP. You start learning immediately. So do NOT let yourself fall behind.

2. Get a solid group together to study and practice for OSCEs*!!

3. Schedule some downtime into your day. Like cooking. Or sex. Whatever makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

4. Exercise. Preferably cardio a few times a week. Third-year you will be grateful.

5. Be flexible with your career aspirations. Don’t overspend on your stethoscope because it will probably go missing anyway.

6. Don’t start studying for boards too soon. You have about three months left of what you could call a “normal life.” Enjoy it as much as you can.

7. Use the online textbooks and resources (or suffer from agonizing kyphosis** for years to come).

8. Do not skip anatomy class!!

9. Make friends with your upperclassmen. They’ll give you more tips on residency applications when the time comes.

10. For the love of God, do NOT make any enemies.

Rey was quite proud of herself for putting that list together.  A few days before classes began, she sent a screenshot to Finn and Rose in their group chat, to which Rose jokingly responded that they should frame the list and hang it up on the door to their shared dorm. 

Finn quickly reminded them that Jannah, his cousin (fourth year and soon to be anaesthesiologist), and their primary mentor and point of contact during the previous application cycle, would never let him live it down.

Rose, of course, found this absolutely hilarious and suggested inviting Jannah to their housewarming party, where they could hang it up and take some selfies. Rey chuckled and seconded that motion, reminding Finn that Jannah had basically written tips 2-4 herself and might appreciate seeing her handiwork on display.

Several gifs were exchanged, mostly depicting Schitt’s creek reactions, and the conversation was subsequently dropped. But nevertheless, Rey found time to tack a copy of the list onto the cork board over her desk the night before classes began. Next to it, was a small light blue and maroon flag labelled “University of Chandrila School of Medicine.” The sight of them together made her heart swell with pride. 

Admittedly, Chandrila Med hadn’t been her first choice. It was pretty isolated, all the way up in northeastern Ontario. It was also less than a decade old—a baby, by medical school standards. The general consensus among reddit users seemed to be that it had only been approved as a factory to pump out primarily family doctors: a resource that Canada was in desperate need of. But Rey wasn’t interested in family medicine. She had only accepted the offer because 1. It was the only school that had accepted her, and 2. Chandrila, despite being a new school, was affiliated with the Coruscant Cancer Research Centre in Hamilton. And if she could get her foot in the door there, then maybe…just maybe she’d boost her chances of one day becoming a part of their team.

Of course, she needed to actually pass her first two years before she could even begin thinking about that in any meaningful capacity. And within that time, she would have to master every inch of the human body, and the most common diseases, conditions, and breaks associated with each organ and limb.

Well, every inch except for the teeth. They had to give dentists something to do.

***

A week into her first year, Rey managed to screw up number 10 so spectacularly that she probably deserved a medal.

“Don’t make enemies.” It had seemed easy enough. Medical school was a team setting. She had been mentally preparing herself for the possibility of having to work alongside people who she wouldn’t otherwise get along with. It wasn’t—it shouldn’t—have been such a big deal. Rey was fully capable of controlling her anger and frustration. She’d spent years cooperating with assholes while often fantasising about stabbing her pen through their eyes.

But she’d never had to deal with Ben Solo before.

The first ‘incident’ happened in their second PBL*** class. The first week’s case was of a fictional girl named Yasmin Ahmed, who presented to her hospital with osteomyelitis: a severe bone infection secondary to sickle cell anemia. Rey had just been randomly selected to present one of the items on the list of learning objectives: differential diagnoses for blood disorders.

Dr. Tekka was the professor who had been assigned to their group. She’d lightly stalked him on the school’s website when she first got her class schedule. He was an older man, University of Toronto med school alumnus, and a longtime neurologist in Sudbury. Not exactly someone she’d need to suck up to for a reference letter, but ideally someone she shouldn’t piss off. Jannah had listed him as one of the ten toughest professors at the school.

He raised his gaze from his laptop and glanced in her direction. “Have you prepared something for number three?”

Rey swallowed, feeling her heart race, but nodded and stood up from her chair.

He wordlessly handed her a large black marker and directed her to the white board covering the wall behind him, whirling his chair around and crossing his arms to listen to her short presentation.

She stood there longer than she’d intended, trying to call the words to her mind. Think dammnit, you know this! She chastised herself internally.

The other students in the room were not particularly engaged. Three of them were leaning back in their chairs, sipping their lukewarm coffee. Two were glancing at the board behind her, but their drooping eyes and slouched shoulders suggested that neither of them had gotten a ton of sleep before scrambling out of bed five minutes before the class began. One other girl kept leaning over to ruffle through her backpack, likely to steal one last glance at her notes before stepping onto the chopping block. But Ben, who was sitting to her right and two seats back, was staring intently at her, mimicking Tekka’s pose while wearing an army green t-shirt and dark jeans. They hadn’t really spoken to each other since the first session on Tuesday, but he struck her from the start as a somewhat calm, mature person. He was also clearly the oldest student in the class, pushing 30 years old where most of them were five to eight years younger.

Even sitting, he was a head taller than anyone else in the room, with scruffy jet-black hair pushed back behind his ears, and an intense gaze that made her feel like it was piercing into her soul. She couldn’t quite discern if it was in judgement or quiet support, but in the moment it didn’t matter. It was her first time presenting in front of her classmates after a sleepless night of studying, and to see someone look like he had his shit together…it was strangely comforting. Honestly, he even looked a little familiar, though she couldn't quite put her finger on where she'd seen him before. But, steeling herself, Rey took a deep breath, met his eyes, then turned back, lifted her chin and began to write.

“Disorders of red and white blood cells can be sorted into anemias and cancers,” She began, scribbling the terms on the board as she wrote. It began well enough. Anemias—disorders of low hematocrit and hemoglobin—were sorted based on the amount of red blood cells in the body, and the size of them (also called the mean corpuscular volume).

“The most common microcytic anemias are iron deficiency anemia, anemia of chronic disease, and thalassemia,” Rey continued, moving down to continue.

“Good,” Tekka said. “Now—“

She tensed with the marker still pressed against the board, waiting for the quizzing to begin.

“If Yasmin had iron deficiency anemia, how would she have presented to the physician?”

Rey turned to face the class. “Umm…fatigue, fainting, pale conjunctiva, glossitis, ko-kolo—“ She stuttered, then stopped, leaving her mouth hanging open. Shit. The word was literally on the tip of her tongue, as was the image of the fingers with nails turned inwards like spoons.

Tekka let out a small sigh. “Anyone else?”

“Koilonychia.” A deep voice said. Rey realised, a moment later, that it was Ben who spoke. Soon enough, every head was turned towards him instead of her.

He seemed taken aback by this, but then uncrossed his arms and let out a small sigh, holding up a very large, pale right hand. “Spoon nails, I mean.” He said, pointing to his nails without taking his eyes off her. “They become extremely thin and brittle. It’s a dead giveaway for iron deficiency and rheumatic fever in a clinical setting.”

Rey nodded, but felt her shoulders tense slightly. She should have been grateful to him for saving her. But in the moment, all she could do was think about how stupid it was for her not to know the word immediately. She had promised herself that she’d make a strong impression, but now this guy was having to jump in on her behalf.

“Thank you Ben,” Tekka responded, turning back to Rey. “You may continue.”

She swallowed back the lump forming in her throat, then did as he said, working her way down the lists of normocytic and macrocytic anemias. Twice more, she found herself stuttering and hesitating, her mind blanking on items that she’d had no trouble telling Finn about the night before.

Both times, Ben was the one to jump in. The first time, it had come off to Rey like a gesture of pity. The second time, there was a twinge of annoyance in his voice, like really, does this girl not know the difference between hemolytic and aplastic anemia? The third time, it sounded genuinely patronising. And it made Rey’s jaw clench with frustration.

“Vitamin B12 and folate deficiencies both cause megaloblastic anemia, but B12 is usually lost from lack of intrinsic factor or ileal malabsorption. Folate is from low dietary folate, alcoholism, and some  chemotherapeutic drugs.”

Rey was gritting her teeth, waiting for a chance to jump in and finish what she was going to say, but then blinked at the mention of chemo. She knew something about that.

“Methotrexate is one of the drugs that causes folate deficiency—“ When Ben and the rest of the class paused, her gaze drifted towards Tekka. “Right?”

She knew she was right. But she felt compelled to get his approval.

Tekka opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Right.” He said. “But you won’t be covering chemotherapy until your second year.”

She nodded, and hunched over a little bit, bringing the collars of her blouse a little closer together. Tekka wasn’t saying it aloud, but his comment it felt like an accusation. He must have thought she was a naive keener who had spent the previous night researching every last bit of information on the ancillary blood disorders. He didn’t need to know that she only knew that bit of trivia because she’d spent three of her teenage years taking folate supplements.

“Is that everything?” Tekka asked suddenly, snapping her back into focus.

Rey tilted her head towards the board, where the section on blood cancers was still completely blank.

“No, there’s more.” She said quietly, continuing her presentation. This part she was more than comfortable with. This part she wouldn’t screw up at all.

Without taking a breath, Rey gave a rundown of acute myelogenous and lymphoblastic anemias, briefly outlining what she knew about their causes and treatments. It was admittedly a way to show off, to demonstrate to Tekka that she had a strong background on the subject. She’d taken numerous oncology courses in undergrad, so this knowledge had settled into her mind long ago. She was about to continue onto the chronic leukemias when—

“That’s the wrong translocation.” Ben said, pointing to the board. “It’s not just twelve and twenty-one. The Philadelphia chromosome gives you the worse prognosis.****”

“I—“ Rey stuttered, then turned back to the board. “No, no that’s not true.  The Philadelphia chromosome only shows up in CML.”

Ben shook his head, clearly annoyed. “You’re wrong. It can be in both of them.”

It was such a small comment, but the way that he said those words you’re wrong. Even with his even expression, she could clearly detect a smugness in his voice, an arrogance and venom that made every hair in her body stand on edge.

“Fine!” She snapped, closing the cap of the marker. “If you know so much, why don’t you teach it yourself?”

Something shifted in his expression then. He seemed almost stunned. Figures, though. He was the oldest student she had met so far. He probably already had a PhD and three years of hospital experience. He must have thought he was hot shit compared to the lowly Bachelors’ and Masters’ students.

“Well, do you want to? I’m sure you know way more than I do.” She said, holding up the marker towards him in challenge. He just glowered at her and began to stand up, while the entire class remained silent. Even the girl rummaging through her bag was engrossed in this situation. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“That’s enough,” Tekka said quickly, giving Rey a displeased look. “Sit down, both of you.”

“Rey, you did not need to go into that much detail. This is the first week, and we only have--“ He raised an arm towards the clock on the wall, “Twenty minutes left to cover three more items and finish the case. You’ve been talking for ten minutes. Learn to pace yourself.”

Rey nodded sheepishly and settled back into her seat to his left. He barely paid her any mind, and instead returned to his laptop, reading out the next item and selecting backpack girl—Orla—to  explain the complications of sickle cell anemia.

“And Rey,” Tekka said quietly as Orla stood up, not looking up from his laptop. “The Philadelphia chromosome can be found in both ALL and CML.”

Rey’s face flushed, and she slunk back deeper into her chair, unable to take the shame.

For the rest of the session, she felt like every eye in the class was on her, judging her for being so quick to anger. Ben got up to present after Orla, and seamlessly explained the management options for sickle cell complications; hydroxyurea to stave off sickle cell crises (though it is teratogenic and myelosuppressive, he felt the need to add), folate supplements, chronic transfusions, prophylactic vaccinations for the encapsulated bacteria infections, and antibiotics for any patients at risk of sepsis. When Tekka quizzed him, he had no trouble answering every last question.

The class actually applauded him as he sat back down. His eyes quickly fell to Rey, who only scowled and crossed her arms.

Finally, the session ended and they were all let go for the weekend. Soon, fifty or so medical students were scrambling out of the building to let the bright sunlight wash over their faces. Rey stepped out and breathed a sigh of relief before turning to scour the chatty crowds for Rose. Finn was probably still in their dorm enjoying lunch. Unlike Rey and Rose, his PBL sessions were in the afternoons.

“Hey Rey!” A voice called out.

She whirled to see her PBL group huddled together, though most were chatting with students from other groups. Orla was waving her hand high to call her over.

“Hey, what’s up?” She asked once she got closer.

“We’re thinking of going to the Pavilion for lunch. D’you wanna come?” Orla responded with a friendly grin.

“Uhhh—“ She hesitated, glancing around one last time for Rose. “Yeah, sure, why not?” She said awkwardly, making a mental note to text her friend later. Rose would be fine with this. Rey hadn’t really gotten out since the blur that was orientation, and she didn’t drink with the others very much. As such, she barely knew her classmates. Lunch together would probably be good in the long-term. 

Suddenly, her eyes fell to Ben, standing at the back of the group, and she felt that lump in her throat again. He was staring at her, studying her, but she couldn’t tell if there was anything there anymore. She furrowed her brow, trying to search her mind for something to say. An apology for being too brash, maybe. But then he frowned, looked down at his phone, and turned to Orla.

“Hey, I won’t be able to come. I have to go…do a thing.” He said, trailing off.

Rey’s gaze fell to the phone in his hand. He had never turned it on.

Orla blinked, then nodded. “Yeah sure, but we can rearrange this if you want?”

“No!” He exclaimed, a little too loudly. “You guys go on,” His gaze fell to Rey for the briefest moment yet again, but then he turned away. “This is urgent. I’ll see you guys another time.”

Before anyone could respond, he was stalking off towards the parking lot and soon enough fell out of sight.

“Aaaahh, alright then.” Said Jessika, clearly detecting some of the awkwardness that had just occurred. “Should we start walking over?”

The others nodded, and soon enough they were off. In the ten minutes that it took to walk to the Pavilion, Rey and Jessika fell towards the back of the line, chatting with each other about how their week had gone and what they were planning to do for the weekend (besides more studying, of course). Jessika, or Jess, as she preferred to be called, was living with Kaydel and two boys a floor below Rey, Rose, and Finn. 

“So if you ever want to prep for PBL together, let me know,” Jess said with a quick nudge and a wink.

Rey blushed, feeling some of the tension in her shoulders relax. “Thank you.”

When the group arrived at the Pavilion and sat down at a table, she looked around awkwardly and noticed that at least two of them were texting away furiously, barely registering the conversation around them. But they seemed to wrap up their conversations just as quickly, and the lunch went off without a hitch.

Twenty minutes later, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Glancing down, she turned in on to check who it was from. Her blood ran cold when she saw Rose’s name and the message attached.

Lmao Rey, why am I hearing that you threw a whiteboard marker at a guy in PBL??

Rey would have laughed, if the sight didn't cause her to nearly gag from bile building in the back of her throat. She raised her head towards her classmates, who were all chatting away without a care. It hadn't even been an hour since PBL. Someone must have told their friend in another group, and then the rumour mill immediately went to work.

She texted Rose back immediately, Didn't throw anything. I'll explain later.

After lunch, she finally did, before flipping facedown onto the couch and digging her face into the pillow. Rose was beside herself laughing in the corner.

"What on earth were you thinking?!" She exclaimed, though her tone seemed a bit less serious than she was letting on.

Rey groaned and flipped onto her back, clutching the pillow close to her chest. "I wasn't. That's the problem."

She hadn't been thinking at all. In that moment, all she'd wanted to do was show Tekka that she knew what she was doing, that she had a strong base of knowledge in the fields of hematology and oncology. She just snapped at this guy unfairly because he happened to know more than she did. That was a common occurrence in this setting, given the wide range of degrees that people would walk in with. It was unfathomably stupid to blow up at him like that, especially on her first day.

"I'm sure it'll blow over soon," She said after a small pause. "You know how these things usually go. Frankly, I'm just impressed that you managed not to throw something at him."

She turned her head towards her friend, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Rose smiled knowingly, standing up from her chair. "Remember that time you kicked Beaumont out of our biochem group project for not pulling his weight? Or when you stopped talking to Stellan because he just so happened to share your aspirations to work with Prof. Ithano on the honours thesis?"

Rey opened her mouth to say something, but Rose crossed her arms and continued. "Don't pretend you didn't do that. You're one of the most competitive people I know, Rey. And probably the smartest. But you can't let people get into your head like that. Paige was like that in first year too, and it bit her in the ass."

She stiffened, then relaxed. "Okay, so I shouldn't have snapped at him. What now?"

"Just apologise and move on. I doubt he actually cares."

Rey was almost ready to tell her about the way that he seemed keen to avoid her after class ended, but she bit her tongue for the moment. She was probably just reading into things too much.

"Okay, fine. I'll apologise."

"Yeah!" Rose said, humming with satisfaction. "I'm sure everything'll be fine by Monday!"

Rey’s fantabulous list of assorted med school terms:

*OSCE=Objective structured clinical examination

A key part of every medical student’s education. Basically, you go to several stations for about 6 minutes and perform an exam on an actor or mannequin. A professor will also be present to observe and quiz you on the subject. Most students cite these exams as “hell on earth,” “fucking insane,” and “the most accurate way to assess one’s skills as a doctor.”

Note from Jannah: There is a strict business casual dress code. A friend of mine was once kicked out for wearing sneakers.

**kyphosis (AKA medical term for hunchback)=curvature of the spine that causes the top of the back to appear more rounded than normal.

(Not to be confused with scoliosis=sideways curvature of the spine, or lordosis=inward curvature of the lumbar spine)

***PBL=Problem Based Learning

A structure of medical school teaching that has recently begun to grow in popularity in North America and some parts of Europe. Units are organised week by week based on certain cases. Twice a week, students walk through case studies of certain patients, play detective with their presentation, and create a set of study goals, presenting certain subjects to each other in subsequent sessions.

E.x. One week, a case study may discuss a man with colon cancer. Students will spend the week studying and presenting subjects such as lower digestive tract anatomy and physiology, diseases of the colon, carcinogenesis, colon cancer presentation, diagnosis, treatment, and prognosis. 

****Philadelphia chromsome=t(9:22). Translocation between the corresponding chromosome arms. Cited as a cause of acute lymphoblastic and chronic myelogenous leukemia. Creates a chimeric protein called BCR-ABL, which can be targeted with the drug Imatinib.

Chapter Text

Things were not fine by Monday.

On Friday, after PBL, when Rey had said to herself that she wanted to apologise, she’d meant it. She really, really didn’t want to stay on bad terms with this guy she didn’t know. And things were getting more dire by the hour. Finn had been in PBL during Rey and Rose’s brief conversation, but when he returned an hour later, he nearly kicked down the door and flew into their living room-kitchen combination, his eyes wide.

“Everyone's talking about you outside. Someone said you tried to strangle Ben Solo in front of everyone."

Rey, who had spent the past hour lying flat on the couch with her laptop perched precariously on her collarbone, open to UptoDate, shut it instantly. She met Finn’s eyes for a moment, then found the pillow from before and shoved her face deep into its crevices for another scream.

In the coming days, two more ‘incidents’ came and went, and together they cemented Rey and Ben’s positions in their class as bitter nemeses.

Incident number two: the party on Saturday night.

Finn was the one who got the invite, straight from his new best friends, Kazuda and Tamara. He’d gone out for drinks on the very first night of classes with his PBL mates, beating most of the other groups to the punch; and within 24 hours they had become an inseparable octet. 

Rey was a little stunned to hear that there was a whole damn party planned. It was stupid, but a small part of her was surprised that medical students, most of whom were well beyond their undergrad days, were ready to go through another round of what they hadn’t done since they were eighteen. But here were Kazuda and Tam, who were sharing a large dorm with two physiotherapy students, already volunteering to host the first one of the year. And honestly? She didn’t know if she wanted to go and hang around so many people with the stench of cheap beer on their breaths.

Rose, on the other hand, seemed genuinely excited for the prospect. Back in their McMaster days, she certainly knew how to party. A few drinks in and she would either get into some very loud political arguments with their classmates, or take home the first one to look at her suggestively. But her social battery would drain quicker than anyone's, like a bucket with a giant hole in the side. So most of the time she would walk out with Rey, curl up in their living room and rewatch Fullmetal Alchemist for the fiftieth time. Finn always stayed behind to chat people up (and occasionally return at 3am with a companion).

The initial shock passed quickly, though. They were in a totally new environment after all, and they barely knew anyone. Rose was probably looking forward to the chance to meet some new people and make her mark. Rey certainly empathised with that notion, even if she didn’t say it out loud. And so, a few hours later, the two of them were hard at work putting on makeup and picking out their outfits. Rose emerged from the bathroom first, wearing a sheer midnight blue summer dress that draped down to her knees, leaving plenty of room to see the rusty crescent pendant that she wore to match with Paige. Rey chose a long-sleeved black bodysuit with a high neck and bare shoulders, paired with some loose washed-out jeans. Finn had opted for the simple look: white shirt with his gold-yellow bomber jacket, dark jeans, and black combat boots.

After the dressing and some mercifully brief pre-gaming, they were off.

Walking along the dirt path to Kazuda and Tam’s place, Rey didn’t speak much. She was carrying a small bottle holding gin and tonic—one of the only drinks she could manage—and staring blankly at the grass that she trampled with each step. Finn and Rose walked a couple of steps in front of her, each clutching their own bottles under one armpit while loosely holding one side of a twelve-pack of beer with their free hands. A housewarming gift for his new friends.

Her mind kept drifting back to her group, and the new rumour about her. She didn’t know if any of them would be there, except for maybe Orla. She was certainly kind and bubble, and seemed like the type to get invited to lots of these things. The others in her group; Karim, Vincent, Anh, Jacen...they had all seemed nice enough at lunch. She could see herself getting along with them at this kind of event too. But one of them must have said something about her little...freakout...and that knowledge hit deep.

Hopefully Jess was already there. They’d knocked on her door before leaving the apartment, but to no avail. The memory of her wink made Rey’s heart skip a quick beat, and some heat rise up in her chest. She hadn’t said anything outright about whether or not she had a partner, and frankly it was probably too early to try to play the “straight or not” game with her classmates…but she could dream. Jess was really cute, after all. If she were to ever offer anything, Rey would happily take it.

But then her thoughts found their way to Ben again, and she pursed her lips with frustration.  Maybe he wouldn’t be at the party. Hopefully—maybe—he hadn’t even been invited. He was so much older than most of them. This kind of thing probably wasn’t his jam at all. She could talk to him another time, maybe corner him before Monday’s classes and stare right up into those piercing eyes and apologise for overreacting to something that probably meant nothing to him at all.

He’d probably just laugh at you for trying. She thought for a moment. That is, if he even wants to talk to you at all.

She hadn’t forgotten how quickly he’d left the group after she’d arrived.

“Hey,” she heard a voice say. Looking up, Rose was facing her, directly, one hand still on the six-pack. “You doing okay?”

Rey’s gaze fell to Finn, who rang the doorbell without a second look.

She turned back to Rose and tried her best to manage a smile. Rose smiled back, though it faltered just for a moment. Then, a silent nod between them.

“Yeah,” Rey said quickly, tightening her grip around the bottle. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Tam was the one to open the door for them with a great big smile on her face and half-filled bottle in hand.

“Finn!” She said happily, swaying and blinking for a few moments before pulling him into a hug. Without skipping a beat, she introduced herself to Rose and Rey, hugging both of them tightly in turn before taking their offering and setting it on the kitchen island behind her. In a flash, she had whirled back around and wrapped a hand around Finn’s shoulder. A few kind words in Yoruba were exchanged, then he turned towards the girls to mouth ‘sorry,’ before walking towards the corner where Kazuda and his group members were chilling.

Rey and Rose exchanged a look and a quick shrug.

“You know anyone here?” Rose asked, trying her best at a crooked smile.

Rey scanned the room quickly, quickly finding Orla and Jai Kell leaning against a wall. Orla threw her head back and laughed, then moved an inch closer to him, clearly enraptured in the conversation. 

She continued scanning, quickly realising that she didn’t know anyone else in the room too well. Secretly, she’d hoped there wouldn’t be an influx of guests beyond this. There were already at least thirty people in the room, and it was only ten o’clock.

Finally, she turned her head back. “Not really,” She said lamely.

Rose chuckled. “Me neither,” She said, her voice cracking a little bit.

There was a long pause, mercifully filled by the loud sounds of the music blaring behind them. Finally, Rey looked down at her drink. She took a sigh and opened it up. “Then let’s go meet people.”

Rose smiled, dropped her shoulders, then opened her own bottle.

“To our first week of medicine,” She said.

Rey chuckled, then toasted. “To our first week of medicine.”

The gin stung the back of her throat on the way down, making her grimace and shake her head.

We can do this.

Twenty minutes later, no progress had been made. Rey and Rose were just chatting with each other in the corner of the room, too petrified to go searching for people, and a bit too engrossed in their ongoing debate over how Rose was going to end her ongoing Stranger Things fic.

“I bet she’d be a pretty chaotic DnD player,” Rey said loudly. “Like he’d roll a five and she’d make some shit up like ‘Celeste transforms into a giant frog’ and he’d just go along—“ She paused, noticing for the first time, a couple of guys standing nearby. One of them—the tall older guy with a well-coiffed head of bright red hair—was staring at Rose.

“Wha—what are you?—“ Rose asked, perplexed.

Rey nodded in the direction of the man, raising her eyebrows. She turned.

“Hey Hux,” She waved, though her hand never went above her shoulder.

“Oh, umm…” He cleared his throat. “Hey Rose.” His voice was so quiet and sullen that it barely registered above the music.

They stared at each other for a moment, before Rose blinked and turned back to Rey. “Umm, Rey, this is Hux. He’s in my PBL group.” She turned back to meet his gaze, then leaned over. “Do you two want to join us?”

Hux and his friend exchanged a look, then stepped forward. He didn’t seem to have a drink, though his friend had a bottle of Guinness in his hand.

“Erm, nice to meet you Hux.” Rey said, shifting closer to the wall and offering a friendly nod.

Hux offered a curt one in return. “My name is Armitage, actually.”

The song stopped, leaving some silence to hang in the air.

He cleared his throat, and the next song began to play. “But I go by Hux, so it’s fine.”

Rey smiled lightly, then took another sip. She supposed he was a handsome person. Honestly, he looked and even sounded like a very grown-up version of a Dubliner boy she’d had a crush on back in primary school. Not that she’d remembered his name. That was a whole other life. But this guy seemed a bit too formal, with his well-ironed black buttoned up shirt, pants that looked like they’d been hand-pressed in Harry Rosen, and some freshly polished loafers. No drink in hand either.

Hux barely registered Rey, but immediately started trying to open a conversation with Rose. They found their footing after a minute, and she could see her friend raise her head a bit, the corner of her eyes soften up a bit, and her entire form grow more relaxed and confident.

Rey sighed and left them to it, only to find herself face to face with Hux’s friend.

“Oh, umm, hi.” She said, nearly jumping out of her skin.

This guy was also older, probably a little over thirty, with a few grey hairs starting to show in his thick dark curls.

He smiled widely and shook her hand. “I’m Poe, nice to meet you.”

“Rey,” She said, putting on her best version of a smile. Poe was a bit closer to her height, well-built, very tanned, with an attractive stubble under his hair. He was dressed a bit more casually, in a beige t-shirt and jeans, while unironically wearing a brown leather jacket even in the increasingly boiling apartment.

They smiled at each other for a long moment, then each took a second to take a swig of their drinks.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” She said quickly. “Are you and Hux in PBL together too?”

Poe shook his head. “Wow, hopefully I look young enough to take that as a compliment.” He laughed at his own little joke. There was certainly a boyish charm to his demeanour. “Nah, Hux is one of my roommates,” He said. “I’m actually in third year.”

She was halfway through her drink when he said that, and in her surprise she nearly spit the contents right onto him.

“Yo—you’re kidding?” Rey put a hand over her mouth to cough out the gin. “Wow, oh my god I have—like—a million questions for you.”

Poe let out a good-natured laugh, then leaned back against the wall. “I thought you might. Fire away.”

She did, one right after another. How was third year? Did he have any tips for PBL, any tips for OSCEs, what subjects were usually tested on exams, did he prefer to use the textbooks or just copy off older student’s notes? What placement was he starting with, are the doctors nice? Has he been to oncology, has he met—

“Alright alright,” He said, holding up his hands in surrender after the tenth one. “I need a second to breathe!”

“Oh, oh my god I’m so sorry.” Rey slumped back a little bit, feeling unnecessarily guilty. Oh God, she was fucking things up with someone else already. And a goddamned third year no less.

“No, it’s fine, don’t worry. Just let me give you my number, and you—“ He paused, nudging his head towards Rose. “Her, any of your other friends can text me any questions you have.”

Rey nodded, then shook her head to clear the fog that was starting to build from the gin. She pursed her lips in embarrassment, then pulled out her phone and started typing according to his instruction.

“So,” Rey said after putting her phone back in her pocket. She needed to change the subject or risk totally humiliating herself. Rose and Hux were still very deep in conversation half a foot away. “You erm, you said that you have more roommates. Are they also in third year?”

“Uhh, actually no.” Said Poe. “Just have another first year under my roof,” He turned around and started scanning the room, then pointed at a head towering above some of the others in the back. “There he is!”

Rey looked down at her feet for a moment as Poe started waving the guy over, then looked up as he saw the head coming through the crowd. Even in the dimming lights, she could tell immediately who it was.

Fuck.

“Rey, this is—“

Feeling the pit in her stomach grow, she exited their little spot before anyone could say another word. Pushing through the growing crowds, she went straight for the corner of her balcony and clutched onto the handrails, trying desperately to steady her breathing. She stood there for awhile, staring at the night sky and mentally kicking herself for not just staying and talking to him. She could have just told Poe that they knew each other and they could have laughed it off and it would have been fine.

With a long sigh, she dropped her shoulders and let herself just lean against the rail for awhile, breathing in the brisk night air and listening to the distant sounds of the music and the sloppy wet sounds coming from the opposite side of the balcony. She leaned her head over, and was surprised to see Orla and Jai Kell making out in the far corner.

Well, if there was any time for that, she supposed it would be now.

Rey was ready to just close her eyes, collect her thoughts, and go back in, when she felt the grates begun to vibrate softly underneath her. She jolted back, then glanced to her right and swore to herself, as Ben Solo took a couple of steps towards her.

Fucking dammnit—

“Hey.” She said, as neutrally as she could manage.

“Hey Philadelphia,” He said flatly, though she thought she could detect a ghost of a smile on his face.

Rey only bristled and lowered her head, letting out a long and dramatic sigh. “I’m really sorry about that,” She mumbled.

Ben didn’t move too close to her, but instead leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms and staring at the sky. “It's all good, water under the bridge.” He said, then paused. Rey watched for a moment and felt the corner of her mouth twitch as he noticed their PBL mates, turned back to her, then curled up the corner of his mouth. “I think everyone else will have moved on by Monday.”

Rey chuckled slightly and picked herself up, letting herself relax by just the slightest amount. “Yeah, I guess so.” A pause, as she took a moment to take him in. Dark jeans, very large sneakers, and a dusty grey long-sleeved button-up with the top one undone. Hanging from one hand was a mostly-full bottle of rum that seemed comically tiny in his grip. His hair still pushed back as it had been earlier that same day, though a five o’clock shadow was starting to become visible, along with the dark moles on his visage.

“Did you manage to take care of that urgent thing from yesterday?” The words came out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

He blinked, then it dawned on him what she was talking about. “Oh, yeah it was fine. I just had to meet some family.”

Part of her didn’t want to believe it, but the rational part—the better part—accepted his answer. Looking at him, she knew immediately that she was reading too much into it.

His eyes, she realised, were hazel. There was something strangely familiar about the way that they shone in the soft light. Looking into them, the smallest wave of nostalgia passed over her, though she did not know why.

“Umm, so—“ Ben said, breaking the silence first. “Where are you from?”

Rey blinked. “Uhh—“

“Just asking because of the accent,” He broke in.

“Yeah, yeah it’s fine. Someone was bound to ask, you know?” Rey shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes. “I was born in Toronto, moved to London—“ She paused. “England, when I was three, and then moved to Hamilton when I was ten. I’ve lived there ever since, just never lost the accent.”

He nodded in understanding. “Hux is the same. Said he came here from Galway when he was a teenager.” He blinked, as if trying to remember what to say next. “I—er—I grew up in Hamilton too. What part were you in?”

“D’you know Corktown?”

He just raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just say you’re from London?”

Rey rolled her eyes. “It was the best place we could get at the time. No, I don’t have any Irish relatives. Yes, people have made their share of jokes.”

He chuckled, “No it’s fine. I grew up over on Aberdeen, actually. We’re practically neighbours.”

“Ah,” She said with a smile. “I thought you looked familiar.” Stupid, stupid brain. “I went to McMaster for undergrad. Health Sci. And now, here I am.”

He nodded. “Nice job getting into both. I went to McGill. Immunology.”

She raised an eyebrow. “For how long?”

“Undergrad. The rest…it’s a long story.”

“Did it involve any oncology research?” She asked before she could stop herself. Half the oncologist researchers she knew of had done immunology.

Ben shrugged awkwardly. “Sort of. I worked in one of the Coruscant labs for awhile, but I didn’t get a degree out of it.”

Rey nearly jumped at the mention of the name. “What did your lab work on?”

“Mostly leukemias,” He admitted. “But I did a lot of case reports on late-stage patients around the hospital. They had a wide variety of things going on.”

She swallowed hard. “No wonder you knew your stuff in there.”

He nodded, his gaze burning into hers.

“So…are you thinking to continue your work when you graduate?”

He said nothing for a very long moment, but just looked at Rey, as if trying to piece together her true motivation. “I don’t know,” He admitted, breaking away with a sigh. “It's too early to tell, I guess. But some family members still want me to go into oncology.”

She wondered briefly who he was talking about, and realised all too late that he had moved a step towards her.

“What about you?” He asked, stopping to take a sip of rum. “You seemed quite passionate yesterday.”

She exhaled loudly, lifting up her bottle to see just how much was left. It was still half-full.

“I really want to work at Coruscant one day.” Then, a swig. When she closed the bottle again and looked back, he was a little closer. She could nearly smell the liquor on his breath.

“Did you...do a lot of cancer research in undergrad or something?” He asked, though part of her knew that’s not what he really meant.

Somehow, Rey found herself shifting to be just a little closer to him. Even with the overpowering scent of the rum, he still smelled faintly of smoke and pine.

“I wrote some stuff on pituitary adenomas*. Otherwise…it’s a long story.” She stared into his eyes for a moment, hoping he’d understand what she meant without forcing her to say the quiet part out loud.

When Ben said nothing, she continued. “Coruscant’s a pretty big hospital, so you probably don’t know him…but I want to work for Dr. Skywalker.” Rey had expected him to understand, and either keep his mouth shut or offer some advice.

What she did not expect, however, was for him to pause, his eyes wide. Then, he slowly lower ed his gaze towards her covered collarbone, and pulled back. ”You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Skywalker?” The contempt in his tone was clear as day.

Rey was stunned, but she pressed on. “So you’ve met him?” Her heart was racing with panic, why on earth did he care?

“Yeah,” He said curtly, his jaw visibly tensed. “Yeah, I’ve met him. And trust me, if you’re just here to work your way up to being one of his residents, you’d be better off applying as far outside of Ontario as possible. Or better yet, drop out now.”

Rey gritted her teeth, suddenly having to resist the urge to punch him square in the jaw. “‘Drop out?” She sneered. The nerve of this guy to start mocking her like that, when he didn’t know anything about her life and had no right to judge her for what she wanted to do with it.

Ben’s expression suddenly shifted into something unreadable. “I’m just telling you for your own good.”

“My own—fuck you!“ She snapped, jamming a finger into his massive chest. “You have no right to say what’s good for me, you jackass!”

He barely twitched. “Rey.” His face passed into the shadows, while his voice settled into a low rumble against her raging fire. “I think you’re smart, so listen to what I’m trying to tell you. You’re still young, you can still change your mind and pick some other specialty. Do not put all of your hopes and dreams on the approval of one doctor. It’s a waste of time, and it’ll just lead to disappointment.”

Rey opened her mouth to say something back, something smart, but nothing came out. She didn’t understand why he was talking to her like this—mocking her, pitying her—she didn’t understand. Ben didn’t know anything about who she was or what she’d been through, or why she’d look up to Dr. Skywalker like that. She knew that she couldn’t judge or make assumptions about his medical history, but what did it matter? If he’d been through half the things she had, he’d know not to judge her either.

Tears began to well in her eyes before she could get the chance to control them, so without saying another word, Rey pushed him and went back inside, her chest heaving with panic as she tried desperately to find a free bathroom, bedroom, corner of the wall or corridor to just be alone and not let things overwhelm her. Distantly, she heard Ben call her name. But she couldn’t talk to him now.

Rey found a bathroom quickly, and stayed in there for a long time. She did not cry for very long, she did not throw up, but she just sat there for awhile, fighting the pain in her chest while trying to understand why he had made her so upset. She had thicker skin than that. With all of the stupid comments and questions, with all of the people who tried to put their hands on her shoulders comfortingly while saying oh honey, you should take things slow. You poor thing. You must be tired. You’re so brave. Why on earth would you want to go back?

There was a knock at the door.

“Rey?” Finn asked from the other side. “You okay in there?”

Rey sniffled and wiped her nose. “I’m fine,” She said lamely.

“I’m with Rose and Jess,” He said. “D’you want either of them to come in or?”

“I said I’m fine!” Rey said a bit too loudly, then stopped. “Sorry.”

“Well, we’re here if you need us.”

In that instant, her phone vibrated with another text.

We can go home if you’d rather watch FMAB. TBH I’m looking to get out of here anyway TT-TT

Rey laughed a little too herself and texted Rose back. OK. Just gimme two minutes.

Once that was on the table, she had an easier time pulling herself together to leave. She hugged Finn, Rose, and Jess in turn when she exited the bathroom, but didn’t elaborate on what had happened to any of them beyond a simple ‘stupid conversation.’ Finn and Rose knew what she meant, but Jess was oblivious. And Rey was okay with that.

“Oh honey,” Jess said, pulling Rey into a tight hug. “I don’t know what he said to you, but you’re smart and beautiful and deserve better.” Rey flushed a little but held her tight, enjoying the sensation. “Sorry that you can’t stay. And I’m sorry we didn’t get to chat. But message me if you need anything and I’ve got you, okay?”

Rey gave her a nod as they pulled apart, but barely had time to react before Jess leaned in again and gave her a quick peck on the cheek—very close to her lips.

“Umm, yeah I’ll—I’ll get you—I’ll see you soon—“ Rey stuttered, nearly falling back into Rose’s arms. God, she was truly a roller coaster of emotions tonight.

Jess gave her a quick wave as she exited with Rose. The two girls stood for awhile in the corridor after that, staring at the door before looking into each other’s shell-shocked faces.

Rey didn’t even have time to process the kiss, beyond making a mental note to call Jess when she was a bit less buzzed. She elaborated quite a bit on Ben’s dickish behaviour, her voice rising with every sentence, but then got it out of her system and let Rose fill her in on what she’d missed inside.

“I umm—well, I may or may not have made out with Hux.” She admitted, not quite meeting her eyes.

“Oh! Was it good?”

“Yeah, yeah definitely. He gave me his number too,” Rose said as the colour began to rise in her cheeks. “But I was drunk, so I doubt anything’ll come of it. Finn ended up chatting with Poe for awhile,” She quickly continued. “Wouldn’t surprise me if they end up hooking up before dawn.”

Rey raised an eyebrow. “Really?” Though she could admittedly see it. Poe seemed like he’d be a good fit for Finn, even if it were just for the night. But there was something in Rose’s voice…like an edge of bitterness that she didn’t even know for sure was there. But Rey brushed it off just as quickly. The three of them were friends, and they’d all had their own partners in undergrad. Nothing more than that.

“So,” Rose said with a cough. “We get back, get changed, watch some Brotherhood?”

Rey pulled her phone out of her pocket to check the time. 11:00am. No text notifications. 

“Yeah,” She said, clicking it off. “Let’s do it.”

Rey’s fantabulous list of assorted med school terms:

Pituitary adenoma=cancer of the pituitary gland (for reference, it’s a little ballsack hanging in the centre of your brain). Hormones made by the hypothalamus travel down to the pituitary and signal it to create more hormones to go to the rest of the body. The pituitary directs your growth, thyroid, sex organs, adrenals, kidneys, and ability to breastfeed and bond with your baby.

Pituitary adenomas can be benign, or carry a whole host of dangers by interrupting or over-producing certain hormones. Many people who have them are diagnosed due to those hormonal changes, or because they start to notice issues with their peripheral vision (the optic nerve is in very close contact with the gland. A tumour can compress it and cause the visual issues).

You can remove the tumour with a transsphenoidal endoscopic surgery, which in laymen’s terms means that the surgeon shoves a tube up your nose, cuts out the bone protecting the gland, and shaves off the growth.

Chapter Text

The third incident happened on a Monday, cementing things between them for the next two years.

Rey didn’t speak to Ben at all after she left the party. She and Rose stayed up until three, watching Brotherhood and talking until they fell asleep on the couches. Finn stumbled into the room a few minutes later, slurring something about how he wished they’d stayed and how much he loved them before passing out on the linoleum floor.

Dawn broke a few hours later, bright and rosy, shining its rays directly into their eyes through the large windows of the living room. Rose groaned and covered her face with her blanket, and Finn scarcely moved an inch. But Rey, unable to sleep in the daylight, lay there for a few minutes, still thinking about the night before.

Rey stared at the dappled white ceiling above her head for awhile, her mind still swimming with regret and frustration at what had happened the night before. She hadn’t been drunk enough to blame any of what she’d said on the alcohol; and Ben didn’t seem like he was drunk enough to have been lying to her. Yet her head still ached as the light assaulted her eyes and she kept recalling the memory of what he’d said, over and over again. And the way she’d reacted, rage boiling over.

Rey realised that Ben had never told him how she knew Dr. Skywalker, but she immediately assumed that he’d either worked under him, or someone else in the hospital that he’d had bad blood with. She wondered if it was anyone she’d met. Maybe Dr. Djarin? No, he’d always seemed nice. He never took care of her, but she used to watch them do morning rounds together with their residents and recalled no tension between them. There were certainly other doctors—hematologists, oncologists, surgeons—who worked with Skywalker, but nothing ever happened in front of her that ever made her question anything about his character. The only other doctor she could remember by name was Dr. Tano, but she was a Sick Kids oncologist who only stopped by once a week to cover shifts and study the kids with brain tumours. They hadn’t even met personally, and Tano was so old, she’d probably retired or died since then anyway.

But Ben hadn’t hesitated in his condemnation of the man. There must have been something that she didn’t know. But there was a spiteful part of her that cared very little to find out what their relationship was like. That asshole’s life wasn’t her business. After all, he didn’t know anything about hers, so he’d had no right to question, let alone mock, her motives or goals.

Well, she wasn’t going to let one guy screw up her weekend, so with a grunt, Rey pushed herself up and onto her feet, draped her blanket over Finn’s curled up form, then tip-toed across her roommates into the kitchen to make the three of them a hearty hangover breakfast.

***

Monday morning was not a PBL class, but instead a clinical skills session—the first one of the school year. And given that this week’s case was centred around hearing loss, it means that they were about to spend two hours shoving otoscopes into the ears of ghoulish rubber torsos.

Rey woke up early that morning, opting for her nicer dark jeans, black runners, and a sheer black blouse with a matching tank top. Opting for a loose, high bun to tie things together, she went into the kitchen to make some coffee and eggs, while poorly humming a mix of Brotherhood theme songs and the Immigrant Song bit that functioned well as her alarm. No one else came in while she was there; both Rose and Finn had their clinicals in the afternoons, which afforded them an extra couple of hours of sleep. Lucky bastards. What she would have given to get an extra few minutes lounging around in the kitchen thinking about nothing in particular.

After enjoying her precious moments of calm, Rey strolled downstairs and walked alone towards the medical school building, silently repeating her notes from the night before about the parts of the eardrum and the types of hearing loss that could arise. She enjoyed these moments on campus, when the paths weren’t busy and she could just enjoy the fields of flowers surrounding her building, shimmering in red, yellow, pink, and violet, and the the way that the tall grass would brush against her legs as she found the shortcut to the med school’s back door.

And there, of course, standing at the door was the jackass himself.

Rey froze as she saw him, heart pounding, but held up her chin and continued, avoiding eye contact and the chance for a conversation outside of the classroom. Not that it mattered—he barely seemed to notice as she walked past him and opened up the door. He was talking to someone on the phone, and though she didn’t know or care who it could have been, she noted just how steely his voice sounded when she walked through the door. I don’t care, she thought she heard him say. I need to know.

He kept his distance when they were in the building together, and even more so when they were in the clinical skills room. She sat in the seat by Orla, close to the window. She barely registered her presence, and instead seemed to be enamoured by whatever Jai was talking to her about. Jess was absent. She had texted the group chat the night before that she was feeling sick, and school policy was very strict about that sort of thing. Meanwhile, Ben had situated himself as close to the door as possible. 

All seemed well and good with the lesson, until their tutor, Dr. Kriss, started pairing up students to perform their own ear exams on the mannequins…and each other.

“You,” She said, pointing to Rey suddenly. She furrowed her brow, “Can you tell me your name one more time?”

“It’s Rey,” Her chin tilted upwards ever so slightly as she responded.

Dr. Kriss nodded and offered a smile.“Alright, Rey, you and Ben can go to the third station.”

With the space now empty between them, Rey exchanged an irritated glance with Ben, then stood up and did what she was told.

She tried so hard not to look him in the eye as she reached up to the wall to pull down the otoscope and a cap. But when she turned back to the mannequin sitting on the table, she found Ben’s large chest blocking her way.

Rey raised her gaze to meet his, feeling her heart skip a beat.

“Can you please move?” She said, keeping her voice as evenly as possible.

He crossed his arms, then bent down so that only she could hear him. “Can I ask you something first?” He asked through gritted teeth.

She flinched at that, then peered beyond him to see what the others were up to. Orla and Karim were in the corner directly across from her, hunched over their mannequins and clearly hard at work. Jai, Ahn, and Vincent were to their right, taking turns with the otoscope and fidgeting with the fake ears. Dr. Kriss, meanwhile, was walking towards them, a hungry predator ready to pounce with some questions. They didn’t have much time, let alone privacy.

“You may not,” Rey said to Ben nervously, pushing past him to see what she was up against.

The mannequin was simple on the outside—a bust of a man with some rather large, floppy, and removable ears inserted into the sides. Next to Rey’s arm was a briefcase full of detachable ears , large and small, that likely held all manner of infections and disgusting fake wax bits. Beyond that, a single tuning fork, about half the length of her forearm, awaiting use for the other test.

Taking a deep breath, she lit up her otoscope and began to walk through the exam that they needed to learn. The outer ear looked normal—obviously, it was plastic for fuck’s sake—as was the skin surrounding it. She knelt down to get better access to the inner ear, tried to pull the corner back—

“Pull it up first,” Ben said quietly from behind her. “It’ll make it easier.”

She wanted so badly to sass him for saying that, but held her tongue and followed his instructions. Of course, he was right to say it, and the scope slid easily into the canal once she did.

The ear was gross, she realised immediately. Even if it was fake. She didn’t like the sight of the small packed tunnel covered in hair and dark wax and frankly? She didn’t understand how there were doctors who enjoyed looking at it all day.

That being said, it was still something she needed to learn to look at. So she ventured on, shifting her scope and bodyweight in a desperate attempt to find the stupid little eardrum.

“Rey, it’s about the other night. I won’t bother you after that.”

She grimaced, then jerked the ear back further. Bingo. The eardrum—or tympanic membrane,  as she was meant to call it—was sitting before her, in its tiny pink glory.

“What is it then?” She paused for a moment to hear his response, but when none came, she peered out from the corner of her eye and realised that they had company.

“How are things coming along?” Dr Kriss leaned in between them, her hands folded delicately behind her back.

Rey understood what this meant; she wanted to know what she found. So, putting her eye back to the otoscope, she gave her what she was asking for.

“I can see the tympanic membrane. It's pink with no signs of dullness or inflammation. I can see the malleus, and incus, pars flaccida and tensa.” She paused.

“There’s one more detail,” Kriss said quickly, inviting Rey to answer.

“The l—“ Ben barely had time to begin his sentence before Rey jumped in, a little too loudly, to answer “Light reflex. It’s present. The membrane is normal.”

She pulled back and gave Ben a semi-murderous glare before straightening up and turning to Dr. Kriss for approval. 

She did not offer, but gave a curt nod and asked her to pass the otoscope to Ben.

Just like in PBL, he was flawless.

“Excellent job, both of you,” Dr Kriss said happily, clapping her hands together. “Now, try to practice the Rinne and Weber tests on each other, and let me know if you have any questions.”

“Thank you,” Ben nodded to their professor, though it looked almost comical seeing them standing side by side. Dr. Kriss was an slender older blonde woman, and tall by all standards, but she was still several inches shorter than him. She might have noticed it too, because with a quick smile, she stepped aside and returned to the other pair, with his gaze on her.

Rey stood, a little stunned, as she noticed that Ben was in fact staring at her. It was only for a moment, but his brow was furrowed, as if frustrated with her. Not mad. Just frustrated.

She returned to the table and picked up the tuning fork while he awkwardly pulled up his chair to sit down.

“What did you want to ask?” She tried to ask evenly, while unsuccessfully trying to activate the fork by banging it against her elbow.

He was really staring at her now, his hazel eyes dark and unreadable. “What got you interested in Dr Skywalker's work?"

Rey blinked, not quite knowing how to respond for a moment.

As he continued to stare into her eyes, his voice dropped dangerously low. "Was he your doctor?"

For a moment, she felt her heart stop. Her chest tightened, as the world froze and she waited for him to add on an obligatory apologetic statement.

But...it never came.

Rey shook her head and looked away. “I guess I made that obvious,” She finally said in a low voice. Finally, the fork began to ring. Without skipping a beat, she reached forward and pressed the flat end against his mastoid process—the bone just behind his earlobe. “Tell me when you can hear it, and tell me when it stops.”

Rey counted to five in her head before Ben said “It stopped.”

Quickly, she moved the forks to the air beside his ear. “And now?”

“It’s back.” His voice was low, rumbling. It made a chill run down the back of her spine. “How old were you?”

Rey’s jaw clenched at that, but she just continued and started doing the same thing on the other side. “That’s none of your business.” She pressed the fork to his bone, harder. “Can you hear that?”

He grimaced. “Yeah—okay, then can you at least tell me what you had?”

That made her jerk the fork away from his skin.

“Could you please explain to me why that’s any of your business?” Rey was beginning to grit her teeth. So now, in addition to being an inconsiderate prick, she was now starting to wonder if he was a stalker.

He shifted his weight in the chair slightly, almost nervously. “I just want to know. I—“ He hesitated, then bowed his head slightly. “I was drunk the other night. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

She hit the fork against her elbow one more time, then placed the flat end in the centre of his forehead, just above his brows. “That’s not an excuse.” She said, taking the fork off a second later. For the record, at the time he hadn’t seemed more than a little buzzed. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Ben regarded her curiously as she stepped back and offered him the fork. They traded spots, and he began to do the test on her.

“You’re right, I don’t.” He said, pressing the fork against her mastoid. “And if you don’t want to tell me, then that’s fine. Just please don’t be such an asshole about it.”

She let out a dry laugh. “Oh, I’m the asshole? You’ve literally spent the past four days talking over me in class, avoiding me outside of the room, and shitting on me because what, you had bad blood with your ex-supervisor?”

He blinked. “That’s not—“ He let out a long sigh, then loudly set the fork down on the table.   “You’re the smartass who started an argument in class over a minute detail, then threw a hissy fit again at the party, to the point where people started asking if I’d done—“ He lowered his voice to barely above a whisper. “Any number of things to you.” He sighed when he realised it was falling on deaf ears. “I’m just trying to be civil here. You don’t need to tell me anything, and I don’t care to tell you about my history with him. But if you have some kind of problem with me beyond that, then just tell me now.”

Rey opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. God, she could just imagine the kind of problems they could keep having. Part of her was so so sure that she could read this guy. She might as well have spent last weekend writing his entire biography. Child of two doctors, ‘comfortable’ growing up. Maybe he couldn’t quite cut it in undergrad and his parents couldn’t get him into UofT med, so he spent years plugging away at academia until he could make it here and get by on their money and show off and become a neuro-oncological surgeon or something. He was talking to her like she was still a child dreaming away about medical school, but oh he knows what it’s really like. He wouldn’t even have been old enough to work at the centre until after she’d left, so what was he interrogating her for? Just his own curiosity? Just so he could learn more about the poor helpless cancer girl who just wanted to be a big cool doctor like that guy he didn’t like?

“I—Whatever.” She finally said, crossing her arms and glancing to the floor. “Just leave me alone. You don’t need to know about my shit, and I don’t need to know about yours.” Then, even though a small part of her was yelling at her not to, she took one last stab at him. “I doubt he’s the reason you hate him anyway. You probably burned a lot of bridges with your charm and wit.”

That seemed to do it.

She was half-expecting him to say something, yell something, finally respond angrily the way that she did to him. Validate her thoughts, something, anything.

He stared at her for a long moment, his face contorted with anger.

“Fuck you.”

Then, wordlessly, he knelt down, picked up his backpack, and walked out the door. The slam! caused the rest of her group members to raise their heads in alarm, like a group of meerkats, and turn directly towards her.

Ben left clinicals about an hour into what was meant to be a two hour session. And on Tuesday, when they had PBL again, he sat as far away from her as possible, and they did not exchange a word.

Chapter Text

Many people live under the false pretence that good doctors (see: not arrogant dipshits) are a different kind of breed. That they are somehow smarter, more capable, and just genuinely morally upstanding people. But what is it that actually makes a good doctor?

Some people believe that to be a good doctor, you had to have gone into it for the ‘right ‘reasons. This matter is hotly contested, so none of this section is going to be about the “why’s” that people have. Why did they want to go into medicine. Why a doctor. Why not nursing? Or research. Or tech. Why, why, why. It’s irrelevant. Because at the end of the day, the ‘why’ of it isn’t anyone’s business but your own. And the ‘why’ doesn’t guarantee that you will be better at the job than your peers. No one who goes into medicine is inherently ‘better’ than anyone. Some people are quite aware of this, either because they work with doctors, they have close friends or siblings who are doctors (and have seen them running lines to stay awake or using their precious days off to lie around and binge Outlander), or they’re regulars at their hospital and know exactly who the truly good ones are, and who the arrogant dipshits are. 

It’s difficult to say what makes a good doctor, because you only become good or bad when you’ve developed a reputation in your field. That can take decades. Otherwise, the mythical creature known as the ‘doctor’ is just a person trying to do a job. 

So let’s simplify things. What does it take to become a doctor—period? 

The answer is, you really only need a few things: a strong will, an iron stomach, and lots of patience.

If today—regardless of your age or station in life—you were to decide to go and practice medicine, it is important to know that the journey to get fully qualified may take about ten years on average. For those who make that choice fresh out of high school—that means your twenties are going to be busy.

Medical school is a strange beast, but what kind of beast you’re dealing with may depend on the country and the school itself. Many universities around the world allow wannabe doctors to begin their journeys at the ripe young age of 18; they’re fresh out of high school, so it’s a perfect opportunity for the system to mould the young minds. It’s a tough program to get into; in some parts, it’s primarily based on your performance on the secondary school exams. Only the top chunk of students are allowed into the club.

There are benefits to starting them off so young. Namely, said students get to trim the fat off their academic careers and begin their internships as young as 24 years old. However, some patients might not feel too at ease having their health be at the mercy of someone who might look young enough to have been doing keg stands the night before. That, and in many of those countries, the post-med school job training (which North Americans call a “residency”) can take 5-10 years. In Canada, it can take as few as two.

In Canada (and the United States), the journey to medical school is arduous. In most parts, you are required to complete a four-year undergraduate degree of your choosing. This can be in honours cardiac physiology or jazz music. All that matters is that you get that grade; that largely unattainable 4.0. Many students over the decades have foregone minors and electives on subjects that they were deeply passionate about all in pursuit of that elusive number. You must also have an impressive list of extracurricular activities, past jobs, research, and experience shadowing in clinics. You must have a high score on the MCAT; an exorbitantly priced exam that covers physics, biology, reading comprehension, and psychology. Anyone can write it and theoretically pass, but the highest scores are usually attained by those who worked like dogs for months on end…or had the money for a prep course. Finally, you must have a killer application and personal statement. This part may or may not involve unloading a fair bit of trauma onto the poor resident reading it (but know that when writing, it is more important to be tactful with your story than honest and raw). Many people pay good money to have their applications written for them (in addition to the 100 or so bucks that you must fork over per school). Every year, students can spend upwards of $5000 trying to get into any medical school around the world that would take them.

And yet? You might not get in right away. You may have to go back and pad out your application with a masters, or a PhD, or a job as a hospital janitor mopping up blood-stained floors in the emergency room. Maybe you even have to write the MCAT two, three, five times. Because at the end of the day, it’s a lottery. Everyone who applies is capable of being a doctor, even a good one at that. But unless your father is a neurosurgeon on the selection committee, your chances of getting into medical school in Canada are often less than 10%.

Many senior doctors in the country are generally aware of these issues. The standards and competition have steadily shifted in the past 30 years. This can best be summed up with the changes to women’s gymnastics at the Olympics. In the past, you could get by with a single cartwheel. You could even go on to become an award-winning plastic surgeon at Johns Hopkins. But you would have to be Simone Biles to get the same results today.

Some universities have found ways to give their undergraduate students a fighting chance in the system. McMaster University in Hamilton, Ontario, is quite famous for doing this. Every year, their Health Sciences department chooses about 150 applicants to enter what is functionally a feeder program into medical schools around the country. And still, only about 50% of students get in after four years.

But once you’re in, you’re in. At least, that’s what many laymen think.

Most medical schools in North America go for four years. Some cram things into three years, but the overall structure is functionally the same. The first two years are spent in the classroom. You slave away learning everything about every last inch of the human body and what can go wrong with it. At the end of second year, you may have a brief moment where you feel mature, knowledgeable, and even confident because you understand the secrets of the human form. Then exams are done. And you check your marks, see a few 60-65%’s and realise that those numbers would have given you a full-fledged panic attack in undergrad but at least it’s on a pass/fail system so you’re actually okay for the first time  ever.

The first two years are arguably the rock that your entire medical career is built on. It is a vital time, much like the first two years of an undergraduate degree. You make new friends, start to build your future network, learn to work as a team, do more extracurriculars, and create a base of knowledge for the rest of your career. It is once again, a time when you don’t have to think too hard about the future, you can breathe from occasionally, and you can play the field, discover things about yourself, and even fall in love.

The last two years are spent inside of a hospital or a clinic. It is, in a sense, a two-year unpaid internship. You follow doctors around in different specialties, get “pimped” (see: ambushed with questions specifically about things you don’t know) on a near-constant basis, and are harshly evaluated on every little thing that you do. Over time, you get to learn the ropes in different specialties, talk to and examine  a variety of patients, and try to apply the vast depths of your theoretical knowledge to a practical setting. Finally, you’ve reached the part where you can learn how to fix what’s wrong with people. And yet, it feels like you’re at the bottom of the totem pole once more, always at the mercy of some old fuck who thinks it’s normal to shame students into obedience. You have to study for more board exams and prepare your residency applications. And, to make matters worse, you and your peers are split up, so you often have very few people to work with. Then suddenly, after two years of getting something that feels like a break from toxic academia, you have to start competing with your classmates again. Because you and Chad over there both want to practise dermatology at UofT but goddamn it there’s only one spot and you know it’s going to be yours.

Now, social media sites are great at highlighting the cool parts of finishing medical school. Anyone who’s into that sort of thing has probably watched videos of their upperclassmen crying tears of joy while loudly calling out their soon-to-be specialty and teaching hospital. They look so fulfilled and overjoyed. This is merely an illusion constructed to make the families happy, boost recruitment, and pull in more revenue via the applications. Because those in the system know that every graduate smiling on camera has seen and heard some shit before and after that day. And not all of it made them better.

In some ways, becoming a doctor is akin to walking a mile on coals as hot as Satan’s asshole, and then being yelled at because you got to the end but burned off your sandals in the process. The process of getting the ‘Dr.’ moniker attached to your name is traumatic in itself. Add that to the fact that you’re constantly being demeaned and shamed for every little thing? It’s no wonder that so many people wind up growing bitter, dropping out, developing addictions, or far worse.

Arguably, the best way to handle things in medical school is to keep your head down, build your resume, and don’t add any unnecessary social problems to your already heaping plate.

To quote a Dr. Jannah Calrissian, now a (very exhausted) second-year anaesthesiology resident at Queens’ University: “For the love of God, do NOT make any enemies.”

***

Rey Johnson and Benjamin Solo were labelled bitter nemeses less than two weeks into their four years at Chandrila med school. Over the next two years, they made a point to speak to each other as little as possible.

Such a thing was easy to do in lectures, clinicals, and outside of school. But in PBL, it was often all they could do not to make snide comments at each other during each others’ presentations. When one was teaching their assigned topic to the class, the other made a point not to engage with them in any way. Sometimes, when one of them would present the case history, Tekka would go around the room asking the others to share their feedback.

“It was fine,” Ben would say quietly, crossing his arms and staring at his feet.

“Is there anything else?” Tekka would ask. Then, a pause. “Anything she could improve on?”

He would shrug, and he would move on.

When Ben was presenting a history, Rey would cross her arms, splay them on the table, look him straight in the eye and find something to nitpick. “You didn't mention that Mrs. O’Brien was allergic to penicillin.”

Their anger at each other never boiled to the surface, at least not to the extent that it did on that first Friday. The others hadn’t even been privy to their conversations, which meant that each of them had the freedom to create their own story. Rey, always the last one to hear about rumours, found out about them indirectly, as most of her group mates had already joined Medical Society and Doctors Without Borders alongside Finn and Rose. Some of them believed that they’d developed this mutual hatred and rivalry because Ben had called her something unspeakable. Others thought that they’d drunkenly hooked up at that first party, had an argument, and now they were making it everyone else’s problem. Anh, who likely had a secret love for rom coms, was sure that they’d dated and broken up before coming to Chandrila. Maybe he’d cheated and Rey had keyed his car. They just didn’t expect to have to see each other ever again and now didn’t know how to cope with their emotions.

But if there as anything that the other six could agree on, it was that there was something  unspoken between Rey and Ben; a bolt of static electricity that seemed to pass through the air whenever they met each other’s gaze. Whenever one of them even appeared like they were going to address the other, the rest of the class would hold their breaths for a brief moment and the room would go silent enough that you could hear a pin drop.

Over time, it became difficult to compartmentalise their relationship in the classroom, and their relationship outside of it. Every time someone texted in the group chat that they were going to the bar, Ben always responded with the same two words a few minutes later: ‘Busy, sorry.’ Rey figured that the others were starting to catch on the third time it happened, because the fourth time, they went out to a small night club without inviting either one of them. That stung. She only found out after the fact from Rose, who threatened to go and yell at Orla and Anh (and possibly strangle them) on her behalf. But lo and behold, Jess sent her a text later that same night, telling her what had happened, and the two girls wound up sharing a taxi to the venue.

The first few minutes were spent in complete silence. Rey stared out the window during this time, counting the streetlights as they passed by, letting the soft orange glow wash over her face. She wondered if she’d made a mistake. Maybe there was something that else that she’d done to not have been invited right away. Maybe Jess resented her and that’s why they weren’t talking too much. Oh lord she was fucking this up, she couldn’t do this—

“Rey,” She said softly. Rey whirled to meet Jess’s dark eyes. She was staring straight at her, brows furrowed and lips slightly parted like she was still searching for the right word to say.

“I’m sorry about what happened. It wasn’t you, I think everyone just started to feel awkward around…both of you together. It…it was a real dick move.” She drew in a sharp breath. “But…I’m glad you came out tonight.”

Rey, unable to respond properly, just cleared her throat and nodded. “It’s okay,” She said, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks and praying that she couldn’t see just how red her face was in the low light surrounding them. “I understand.”

They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, her heart pounding through her chest.

“So…” Jess said, dropping her gaze to Rey’s hand. “Did you and Ben actually like…know each other before coming here?”

Rey shook her head and leaned her elbow against the window. “No. We’d never met before.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jess shuffle slightly in her seat, like a small bit of weight was coming off of her shoulders. She was so pretty, Rey thought, with her straight bob of raven-black hair and short shimmering green dress over a sheer white t-shirt.

“Orla said she saw you two together that first weekend…she said you’d left in tears.” She paused, then leaned in, dropping her voice to barely above a whisper. “Did—did he do anything to you?”

Rey blinked and pulled back from the window. “No no, God no. He was just a dick.”

Jess’s back straightened up at that reply, and she smiled softly, squeezing Rey’s free hand in her own. “Well, I’m glad nothing happened.”

Rey couldn’t take her eyes off Jess, realising she enjoyed the feeling of her hand in another’s. Jess’s grip was warm and pleasant, and when Rey turned her palm and curled her fingers, she reciprocated. They smiled at each other, not letting go until they arrived at the club and the flickering neon lights started washing them in their multi-coloured glow.

Part of Rey was apprehensive about going into the club, knowing what the others were saying about her and wondering if she could ever truly be friends if they were going to keep excluding her. But she followed Jess all the same and danced with her all night, singing along to the music and letting her body loose for a precious time. And when they woke up together the next day, curled up in Jess’s blankets, they laughed and kissed each other again and again, enjoying each others’ skin, their hair, their breasts, and the wetness between their legs. Rey wondered, as the sunlight warmed her cool body, if this was what heaven was like. And two days later, after nearly losing their cool in clinicals practicing respiratory exams on each other, Rey went to Jess’s room again.

***

Meanwhile, most of the other PBL groups became tighter than glue. One weekend in early October, Finn’s group went to Algonquin Park. It was there that he kissed Tamara and began a semi-official relationship, though it only a lasted a few months before Tam decided that things weren’t working.

Rey joked with him one evening in February that it would be a waste to let Tam go like, especially given much his mother had talked about how he should get himself ‘a good Yoruba woman!’ He chuckled and shrugged, simply saying that they’d be better of as friends. She’d known Finn since high school, and immediately understood what this meant. For all of the people he’d dated, he was very much an old school romantic. Always seeking out that magical spark, that one sign that he was meant to be with someone for the rest of his life. He’d never found it with anyone thus far. And Rey didn’t count. They always joked that they were meant to be ‘platonic soulmates.’

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right one yet,” She said comfortingly, lifting herself onto the kitchen island next to him. When he didn’t respond, she leaned her head on his shoulder and caressed his hand with her own. “You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah…I guess so,” He said absentmindedly, staring out the kitchen window. Below their gaze was one of the stone paths leading towards the main campus and medical school building. And walking along under the harsh white glow of the campus lanterns, she could see a few bright-coloured toques and some heads of hair; blonde, long and brown, smoke-black and bright red.

Finn let out a long sigh and leaned his head against Rey’s. “When I find the right one, I’ll know.” 

***

Of the three of them, Rose Tico was probably the only one who truly understood what a blessing the first two years of medical school could be. Now, this was likely in part because she had a sister. Paige—or Pae-Pae, as Rose liked to call her—had graduated from Chandrila herself only two years before Rose arrived. She’d gotten into Internal Medicine in Ottawa, which was close enough that she could visit their campus on occasion. She often gave Rose tips and tricks on who the good professors were, where the best cafes were, and how to get a head start on her residency application. And it was clear that she’d inspired (if not outright instructed) Rose to take 

Back in their McMaster days, Rose had been a core member of the equestrian club and the Vietnamese Students’ Association. But in her first month at Chandrila, Rose had been elected to the executive committee of Doctors Without Borders and Diversity in Medicine, and had joined the SimWars* team. That, combined with her on-and-off ‘situationship’ with one Armitage Hux? She was very busy most evenings. Rey respected her grind.

That is, until she started actually spending time at Hux’s apartment.

“I bumped into Ben this morning. He erm—he asked about you.” She said quite suddenly over lunch one Sunday in March. Finn had gone back to Toronto to visit his family, leaving alone to continue with their tradition of cooking for the apartment. Rey had put together some bread, prebranac, kupus, and roast potatoes.

She nearly choked on her potato, her eyes going wide. “Wr—“ She swallowed. “What did he say?”

Rose shrugged and continued picking at her own plate. “Nothing much, he just asked how you’ve been.”

He’d done that a couple of times since second semester began. Rose had said that both times she’d only responded with a shrug and a “she’s fine.” Rose wasn’t one to burn bridges on behalf of her friend, but he kept to himself or was out of the house so often that she was unable to really get to know him.

Admittedly, a bitter part of Rey figured he was just being nosy and trying to use Rose as a point of access. For all that they’d made each other and their peers miserable in the fall, some force or god had smiled down on them over Christmas and shuffled the groups around, putting them in separate clusters at opposite times of the day. She’d had a much easier time settling into a routine with her new group, and luckily no one close to her was in Ben’s. The fact that Rose was regularly shagging one of the asshole’s roommates was something that she preferred not to acknowledge until either Rose brought it up, or she wanted to annoy Poe with more questions about whether it was too early to start prepping for the MCCQE**.

Now, did Rey occasionally do to Poe what Ben was doing to Rose? Yes. Would she ever admit that to anyone else? Absolutely not.

“What’d you tell him?” Rey asked, trying to sound disinterested.

She saw Rose smile playfully and raise an eyebrow at the question. “Oh, well you know, I told him that you spend your Saturday nights sticking pins in the voodoo doll you made of him.” Her voice rose with each word until she sounded like she was trying her hand at a Shakespearean monologue.

Rey chuckled softly. “Did you freak him out at all?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure he just shit himself on the spot.”

Rey smiled and took a great bite of her bread. “Funny.” Then, softly in between bites. “Sure hope that shuts him up for a bit.”

Rose shrugged. “You never know, he could very well be madly in love with you. Why else would he keep asking?”

She drove her fork into a potato with such force that it clinked against the plate. “I don’t know, maybe he’s just a dumbass with a rejection kink?”

“Eh, that’s probably not true. It’s not like he was asking if you wanted to screw him.” Then, a pause. She tossed aside a piece of lettuce. “He doesn’t seem that bad at home. Hux definitely…respects him. And he made me coffee this morning.”

Rey raised an eyebrow. “You literally called Hux a dumbass with a rejection kink last week.”

Rose blinked, recalling that conversation, then shrugged good-naturedly and pointed her fork towards her. “Yes, but I’m allowed to say that because I’ve actually slept with him. It’s been months and you two have barely spoken.”

Rey didn’t have any witty retorts in place for that, so she instead scarfed down three potatoes at once in a feeble attempt to change the topic of conversation. But based on Rose’s face, she could see she wasn’t having any of it.

“I don’t give enough of a shit to speak to him.” She said, her voice on edge.

Rose furrowed her brows. “You never told me what happened between you two after the party. Is there something I missed? Because I can totally kill him if you want.”

She’d known Rose for five years at this point, and she never quite knew if she was totally kidding when she threatened to kill asshole classmates. “Literally nothing,” She said. “He’s just a dick.”

They said nothing to each other for a while after that, the only sounds in the room being the chewing, crunching and clinking forks on their plates.

“Did you finish the pharmacology notes for tomorrow?” Rey finally asked. “Because if I had to present right now, I’d be screwed.”

Rose nodded quickly. She’d known Rey long enough to know that when Rey changed the subject to school, she didn’t want to talk about anything from before.

“I’ll go grab my laptop.”

Rey’s fantabulous list of assorted med school terms:

SimWars: intervarsity simulation resuscitation competition involving medical and nursing students. Also called: bunch of dipshits in med school try to keep a fake human being alive in a fake ER. Whoever does it the longest gets a medal or something.

MCCQE: one of the board exams required to practice medicine in Canada. A real bitch of an exam, based on what the fourth years say. A lot of your residency opportunities ride on it.

Chapter Text

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Jess’s gaze was not directed towards Rey, but instead into the ceramic coffee cup sitting on the table in front of her. There were two cups present. Rey’s was a small espresso that sat empty to the side. Her hands held the sides of the maroon surface tightly, as if she were relying on the warmth of the cappuccino for strength. On the side, the cafe’s logo Thanks a Latte written in swirly white text. They’d come here together back in January for their first official date.

“I—“ Rey began, then stopped and looked just past her girlfriend and out through the snow-stained windowsill. “I—is there something I did wrong?”

Jess pursed her lips and furrowed her brow, then tilted her head up to meet Rey’s eyes. Perhaps to search for something, an answer to the question she likely had floating around in her mind. “No, it’s—“ She paused with her mouth agape, then brought her shoulders inwards. Her pupils, dark and endless, were sparkling like the night sky.

She took a deep breath. “Rey, it’s not easy being your girlfriend. You come to my place constantly, but never let me stay at yours. You don’t want to spend time with me in groups, but you’re always ready to hook up whenever you’re sad. You text me all the time while we’re at school, but the minute we leave campus you’re nowhere to be found.”

Rey drew in a sharp breath, then lowered her shoulders and hunched over the table, shame sinking into her stomach like a rock. “I have work in the summer. I don’t have time to go to London.”

She let out a very long, exasperated sigh. “Please don’t give me that shit. I asked you fifty times last summer if you wanted to Zoom or even just meet up in Burlington, and you were always busy. I was in town in August and offered to come visit you, and you told me not to.” With every word, she seemed to lean in further, taking up another centimetre of the space on the small circular table, while Rey pulled back and back until her elbows were nearly hanging off of it.

“Look, I’m sorry but I really was busy.” Rey protested. “It’s not that I don’t care about you, it’s just—there’s a lot that I—“

“That you won’t talk about?” Jess interjected, raising an eyebrow. Rey averted her gaze in embarrassment.

“Yeah, I figured that out a long time ago.” When she didn’t receive a response, she drew in a breath and continued in a low voice. “After Burlington, I asked Finn if he knew your address. You know, I thought maybe I could come up and surprise you, meet your parents, do something nice for a change beyond what we’d been doing. And he told me you were living alone.”

Rey swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat. “Did he tell you anything else?”

Jess snorted. “No, but does it matter? I shouldn’t have had to ask him. Like fuck, Rey, for all the things I’ve told you about my family—I thought you’d trust me enough to tell me about that.”

When Rey did not respond, she pressed on. “I never wanted to force you, but like—babe, we’ve been together for awhile now, and you still have a wall up around you. I can’t keep doing this if you’re just never going to open up or share anything with me.”

There wasn’t much that she could say to counter that. Rey had enough self-awareness to know that it wasn’t a good idea to keep so much of her life from the people around her. But when she first started to fall for Jess, she knew that she would never want to see that pitiful expression on her face; wrinkled forehead, eyes with a thin sheen of mist over them and lips pursed tightly together as if physically trying to block the I’m so sorry and Oh babe, if there’s anything I can do from bursting forth. They’d started going out while they were still in PBL, for god’s sake. Jess had met her as a fellow medical student. Fine, she’d deny it, but if she were to learn everything, she wouldn’t treat Rey as an equal anymore. There’d always be that unspoken pathetic element to her relationship, and she couldn’t deal with that.

Oh Rey, do you want to come to my cottage with my two genius little brothers and bigshot surgeon father? Why don’t we have some dinner and chat about our hobbies and pasts and life goals? Oh, your parents couldn’t—OH, they’re both dead?! Oh honey I’m so sorry, this must be so hard for you. If there’s anything I can do—

She knew what she was doing when she’d put up that wall years ago. It was solid concrete that she’d erected long ago, and it had never fully come down for anyone. Not for the people she’d dated in undergrad, not for her classmates or professors, and not for any human being in the city she called home. The closest she’d ever gotten to taking it down was when she became friends with Finn and Rose, but even that process had taken the better part of two years…and still, there were a few details that she’d never even shared with them.

“Jess, I love you.” Rey said lamely, her vision blurring at the corners. On impulse, she tried to reach across the table and caress her hands, but Jess pulled away nearly as quickly and started hugging her arms. “I can do better, I promise.”

“I love you too, but that’s not enough.” Her voice was quiet, but teetering over the edge. “A long-term relationship is supposed to have mutual communication. I shouldn’t be the one doing all the work here. It’s exhausting, and it makes me feel like I’m nothing more than your fuck buddy. So maybe one day you can figure out how to tell people things like how you’re feeling and what you want to do with your life, but until then I’m not going to be a part of it.” She stopped to take a breath, then sniffled and wiped her nose.

“Jess—“ Rey said softly, her own voice trembling.

“I don’t want to hear it.“ She said, her words breaking slightly as she reached back down to hold the warm coffee cup in her hands.

They said nothing to each other for a moment, the ticking of the clock above their heads and the quiet bustling of the room filling the air around them.

After what felt like an eternity, Rey took a deep breath, collecting herself but unwilling and unable to offer her own side.

She stared at Jess for awhile, taking in her pained expression, her quivering upper lip, the condensation forming around the corners of her eyelids.

“Okay,” She finally said, ripping off the bandaid. “Then I guess we’re done.”

Jess said nothing as Rey knelt down, picked up her book bag, and fumbled in for some cash. She gently placed ten dollars on the table, enough to cover both of their drinks.

“I’m really sorry,” She said guiltily, standing up from the table. When Jess didn’t look up, she took a step back and felt her jaw clench involuntarily. “I really am.”

Then, without another word, she pushed the chair in, put on her winter jacket, and walked out of the cafe. She didn’t stop to take a breath until she was back in her room, then sat on her bed for hours after, listening to music. She felt guilty for not crying about it, wasn’t that how people usually reacted to breakups? Every time she did it, she just felt numb. Upset, angry, maybe…but she felt unable to fully access and express those feelings, as though her body was trapped underwater and she could only fall back and let the tendrils of the void take her further under.

Her eyes focused on the wall before her. This was now her second year in residence at Chandrila, and still, one of her only decorations was the school flag from her first day. The other main piece on her wall was a small printout from the school poster sale, depicting a silhouette walking through a dense forest at sunset. She’d tried to put up some fake ivy leaves around the headrest of her bed when she moved in back in September, but they’d fallen off pretty quickly and she could never be bothered to put them back up. And the list from first year? She’d ripped it up within a few days of meeting Ben.

Rey sat alone for three hours before forcing herself to stand up and get back to her work. She calculated that she only had about two weeks left until her second-year winter exams, which were going to be encompassing everything that she’d learned since the start of medical school. Only after that did she remember that it was November 21^st. Three days short of their one-year anniversary.

***

“Okay, just one more!”

The light of the camera flashed, blinding Rey for half a second. Then the photographer lowered it, gave her, Finn, and Rose a thumbs up, and motioned for them to move away from the plastic tulip-covered archway for the next group.

The theme of this year’s Med Ball had been announced as ‘Spring Awakening’ (the planners were not quite aware of the musical when they came up with it), which meant that the hotel ballroom was full of flowers of all shades, hanging vines over every entrance that got caught in at least ten girls’ hair, and enough seats for three hundred people to eat, drink, and party to their hearts content. Dinner had been a beautiful three-course meal with a mango chutney-burrata salad, roast chicken with purple radicchio and balsamic glaze, and rose-petal baklavas for all. Rey had inhaled it almost instantly, and an hour later she was still enjoying the lingering taste of the sweetened walnuts in her mouth.

The night was going better than she could have hoped for. She’d been sick last March and had missed the first ball, but she had gone all out to prepare herself for this one. She’d saved up all of last summer for a beautiful (albeit, thrifted) emerald-green dress that shimmered in the bright lights of the booth. It had one long right sleeve that stopped just before her wrist, and a large slit on the same side for her leg. She had put her hair up in a high bun for occasion, despite Rose saying that she was probably going to get traction alopecia*. Her eye makeup was subtle, with the darkest red lipstick she had in her case. On her other wrist, she wore a small green corsage dotted with delicate pink and white lilies. Finn had made it for her a few nights prior, storing it in the fridge in a Ziploc bag labelled “Peanut <3”. He’d made a big show of putting it on her wrist earlier that evening, as if he were putting an engagement ring on her finger. Given that Rey had been single for a few months now, they’d agreed in January to come to the event as each other’s dates. Initially, they’d agreed to do so because they thought Rose was going to the ball with Hux. But earlier that week, she’d taken them by surprise and said that she would be coming with Rey and Finn’s party, which included Tam and her now-boyfriend Kazuda, and two more of Finn’s PBL-mates Kare and Temmy. Hux wasn’t going, she’d said matter-of-factly. No reason given as to why he would skip out on the biggest night of the year.

They’d thought it better not to ask questions.

Finn looked absolutely dapper, in a deep purple three-piece suit with a black shirt and bowtie underneath. And Rose had walked in and stunned everyone with her black hair loose and shimmering, and a floor-length bright red dress that extended up to her collar and shined like a precious ruby, with a sheer piece of fabric that seemed to flow like a wing whenever she caught a gust of wind. She wore a red rose corsage that she had made herself, and smoky red eyeshadow that made her look like a goddess of fire. A few boys had whistled when she’d first entered the room.

“Alright, let’s go!” Finn said excitedly as they made their way towards the dance floor. Rey was about to follow, before Rose tugged at her arm and giggled, already a few champagnes into her night.

“C’mon Rey let’s get a drink we can grab one for Finn ya look so pretty,” She said, though Rey could barely understand half the slurred words over the music. Nevertheless, she nodded and motioned to him that they were going to the bar.

“Get me a Molson!” He yelled out before melting into the sea of sweaty bodies.

Rey offered a futile thumbs up before running to catch up with Rose, who had already made it halfway to the bar. She sighed at the sight of the thing. Of course Med Society had to arrange for it to be open, or the students would have revolted. But it would probably take twenty minutes to—

“Hey, Rose, what’re you—“

But she wasn’t listening, and instead started muscling her way through the cluster of third year boys in front of them until her head fell out of sight. Rey let out a groan and dived in after her, much to the annoyance of the other boys, who kept telling her to get out and wait her term. But she continued, until the two girls were leaning against the white marble counter, barely able to catch their breaths.

“What do you guys want?” A young bartender came up to them wearing a clean-pressed white shirt and black bowtie.

“Vodka cranberry!” Rose said immediately. She then turned to Rey and blinked sluggishly. “Ya want anything?”

Rey shrugged, so Rose turned back and held up two fingers. “TWO vodka cranberries!” She said loudly.

The bartender exchanged a quick look with Rey, as if to check that Rose was still good for one more and wouldn’t need to be cut off. She nodded and added, “One bottle of Molson please.”

As he stepped away to prepare the drinks, Rose leaned back and sighed loudly. “Ugh I need to get drunker!”

Rey chuckled. “How much have you even had?”

She blinked, then looked down and tried to count something on her fingers before turning back. “Just like—I dunno, two, four champagnes? Oh! And one tequila shot!”

Rey could have sworn she’d had more than one shot at the pre-party, but she said nothing and instead pulled her friend in for a hug while they waited for their drinks to arrive.

“Fucking hate guys—“ Rose slurred, wrapping her arms around Rey’s shoulders. “Fucking asshole’s gonna make me go back to girls I swear to god—“

She pulled her in tighter. “I know,” was all she said, though she still didn’t really know what had happened between her and Hux. “I know.” They stayed in that space until the two spritzes and open Molson bottle were set down in front of them, at which point Rey thanked the bartender and grabbed one drink. Rose leaned ing grabbed the other one and the beer, and then they quickly slipped out of the crowd.

“I dunno why Finn drinks this stuff,” Rey said absentmindedly, staring at the bottle in her hand. “Tastes like absolute shit.”

Rose shrugged. “Beer's a crazy thing man, but I’ll—“ She paused, realising Rey had frozen in place.

Standing a few feet away from them, between two empty white tables, was Ben Solo.

“Hey!” Rose said, stepping forward. “What’s up?”

“Hey Rose,” He said plainly, the ghost of a smile on his face under the blue and purple neon lights.

“You seen Hux today?” When he didn’t respond, she stepped forwards and poked his chest playfully with the beer bottle. “Ya can tell him I said he can go FUCK himself!”

“Erm, yeah—I mean, yeah I’ll gladly do so.”

Rose nodded once and reached up to pat him on the shoulder. “Appreciate it Benny.”

Rey watched carefully as the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. He leaned down and gave Rose a quick one-armed hug. “I’ll beat some sense into him, no prob.”

Then he looked up and met Rey’s eyes. Rose seemed to notice this quickly, as she turned and saw them staring at each other.

“Imma go find Finn,” She said to Rey, before stalking off, still with the drinks in hand.

Rey stepped aside to make room for Ben to walk through to the bar. When he didn’t move, she pursed her lips and leaned against the tablecloth behind her, taking a sip of her spritz while awkwardly trying to avoid her gaze.

He stepped forward until he overshadowed her and she couldn’t do so anymore.

“Hey,” Ben said quietly.

“Hey.”

He looked down, then drew his gaze slowly upwards, as if tracing the lining of her green dress. She stiffened, feeling his burning gaze through her fabric. It felt wrong to be standing there while he was staring at her body. Drawing in a breath, she brought her shoulders a little closer together and glared. “What do you want?” She cocked her head.

Ben looked up in surprise and blinked, stunned by her tone. As if he hadn’t realised what he’d just been doing. “I—erm—it’s been awhile. How’ve you been?”

Awhile, yes. They hadn’t spoken to each other directly in over a year. Awhile was a bit of an understatement, considering how small their class was.

“I’m okay, I guess,” She said awkwardly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “How have you been?”

He shrugged. “Alright.” He paused, and his eyes drifted just a few centimetres downwards. “You look really nice,” He finally said.

Rey felt herself blush, but looked into her orange drink, “I—umm, you look good too.” He did, in truth. His hair was a little longer than it had been last time she’d seen him; almost extending down to his shoulders but carefully gelled back. He was freshly shaven, and he wore a black vest on his suit shirt, with his blood-red tie peaking out underneath.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to get a drink,” He started, then gestured to her glass. “But it seems like you’ve got that covered.”

Rey was in disbelief. “You want to get a drink with me? Why?” The words came out far more accusatory than she’d meant.

He rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding me? I just wanted to talk to you.”

“I can talk here if you want.”

He blinked, then looked around them, as if to see if someone was going to come in and interrupt their exchange. Then, he took a step closer to her. “I’m sorry about the stuff I said to you last year,” He said, his tone softer than she thought possible. “…And how I was in general. I was an asshole.”

Rey leaned her head back, bending her free arm for better support on the table. “Rose didn’t tell you to talk to me, did she?”

He clenched his jaw, expression unchanging. “No, but I’ve barely seen you in over a year.”

She took a moment to look around the ballroom for an out, then stopped. Not far away, Jess was standing against a pillar, champagne in hand, chatting it up and getting a little close to Kaydel Connix.

She whirled her head back around and looked Ben right in the eyes, tuning out the rest of the world to the best of her abilities. “Well, you’re seeing me now. Is there anything specific you wanted to discuss?”

When his words didn’t come, she clicked her lips together and stood up, placing her drink down beside her. “I was an asshole too, I’m sorry.”

He drew in a deep breath. “It was first year, lots of weird feelings flying around. We’ll say we were both assholes and move on. Sound alright?”

She nodded. “So what else do you want to talk about?”

“Whatever you want, I guess?”

“Sure.” But for all the time she’d spent in the past two years drafting out hypothetical conversations with him in her head, all she could manage was: “What hospital did you pick for third year?”

“Chandrila,” He said plainly. “I assume you picked Coruscant?”

“Yeah,” She said. “I guess you figured that out already.”

They paused and regarded each other curiously as the loud club music continued to blare behind them, coupled with the excited screams of a hundred drunk students.

“If you’re trying to meet Luke—“

“Huh?” Rey tilted her head.

He swallowed. “If you still have a plan to meet Dr Skywalker in there, he’s retiring this summer. He won’t be around when you get there.”

Whatever Rey had expected to hear from his mouth, it wasn’t that.

“And how did you find that out?”

“I still keep in touch,” He said dismissively.

“Oh,” She said lamely, though the weight of his words pierced through her heart like a sharp spear. Dr. Skywalker must’ve only been in his mid sixties, she wondered what could have motivated him to retire so soon. “Thanks for letting me know.” The disappointment was evident in her tone.

Another pause. “You said he was your doctor. I thought you might appreciate that information."

“I really shouldn't have told you that,” She murmured to herself.

Ben nodded, as though her tone had confirmed what he’d figured out a long time ago. “I’m not judging you, okay? And I haven’t told anyone, if you’re worried about that. You’ve been through enough already. But just…watch yourself, okay? Some of those guys there can be real pricks behind closed doors.”

Perhaps he was trying to offer her some honest to god advice after all. She processed this thought through a rather large gulp of her drink. “Thanks for the tip. But I don’t need your help.”

“That’s fine.” There was a hint of something in his voice, perhaps exhaustion or sadness, but she could not care to try and differentiate them in that moment.

She looked down and swirled at her drink. He didn’t sound like he was pitying her. "When exactly did you work with him?"

"I left about eight years ago."

Eight years...she'd only been in remission for seven. He had probably heard about her at some point, even if he didn't know it at the time. And now, even if he had deduced that she had been his patient, that didn't mean he'd known her back then.

"Okay." Was all she said.

He sighed and straightened himself up. "I know it’s awhile away, but I hope you make the best of the placement. I know Dr. Djarin kept a lot of the drawings and crafts, even from some of Skywalker’s kids. Maybe he’ll remember you.”

Rey flinched at mention of Dr. Djarin, but refused to look up. Refused to confirm any word of what he was saying.

“I still want to ask you something though,” Then, Ben leaned in, so close that the scent of smoke and pine filled the air between them, causing her heartbeat to quicken so subtly that her expression betrayed nothing.

"What is it?"

"You didn't go by Rey at the time, did you?"

She blinked. "What are you talking about?"

He sighed, then shook his head and closed the remaining distance between them. His lips were inches from hers. When his next words came out, then were low enough that only she could hear it. "You went by Teodora, didn't you?"

A shiver went down her spine at the sound of his voice. Her eyes widened, and she looked up just to see him pull back, his expression even as he took in her shock. Rey nearly fell back into a chair and sat there frozen for a moment while he turned and walked away. She let out a little yelp as she realised that she was about to spill her drink. Teodora. He knew her full name. She hadn’t used it publicly since her mother died. It wasn’t even on her records at the medical school. The only people who she knew knew it were Finn and Rose, but did either of them tell him? Rose had spent time in his apartment and they’d started PBL together this semester but she wouldn’t do that. Rey was Rey. It was her choice to tell people that detail, especially since very few non-Slavic people could pronounce it properly. Even Finn and Rose forgot how to roll the ‘r’ properly sometimes.

He’d pronounced it properly though. Like…impeccably. He’d heard it before.

“Wait!” She said hoarsely, slamming her glass down and running to catch up with him. In the minute that she’d been stuck petrified by the table, he’d run off somewhere and she didn’t know where it was.

Rey pushed through people frantically by the bar, by the pillars, walking around near the bathroom, even turned another tall dark-haired boy only to realise that it wasn’t who she was looking for.

After what felt like ages, another second-year girl she didn’t know very well pulled her aside and sat her down, holding her hands and asking if she was okay. Why she was panicking, if there was anything she could do.

Looking for someone, Rey said. Ben Solo, d’you know him?

The girl blinked. Yeah, she knew who Ben was. But he left the hotel a few minutes ago. She was on a smoke break and saw him get into a taxi with another girl. Someone from third year, could have sworn her name was Kira.

Though only half-listening, Rey swore to herself and put her head in her hands. He knew. He had known all along about her, hadn’t he? And fine, he’d said he hadn’t told anyone—and against her better judgment, she believed him--but would that stop him from doing so in the future? Would he hold it over her head? No, he said he applied to Chandrila for next year. If she played her cards right, she could potentially avoid him altogether between now and graduation. She’d just have to avoid him at med ball if he ever came back and, fuck, why was she getting so worked up over it? She’d been all clear for seven years now, it shouldn’t have mattered.

But it did matter coming from him.  Maybe it was the fact that he knew her doctors’ first names. Maybe it was the fact that a small part of her knew that in order for him to have known her full name, he would have had to have seen her records. Maybe it was the fact that his lips had come so close to hers when he’d called her Teodora. Or the way that he’d looked at her in her dress.

And then he just left with another girl—

No. No no no, she wasn’t going to let herself think about that. He was still a jackass, and the fact that he was a jackass who knew her personal information just made it worse. She needed to forget about him.

A shiver went down her spine, but then she took a deep breath and looked up, nodded to the girl and looked back to the bar and dance floor. Against her better judgment, she went to the bar and asked for two shots of whiskey. She needed to get something new in her quickly to stave off the panic in her brain. She needed to switch that part off and enjoy the rest of the night without him. Yes it was wrong of her, and if she had too much she risked slipping back into old habits. But that was tomorrow’s problem.

Soon enough, two shots turned to four, and she was dancing wildly with Finn and Rose, the three of them laughing through their intoxicated haze and enjoying their last big night before school picked up again. They knew that they were going to have the nastiest of hangovers tomorrow, but they didn’t care. They stayed until they were kicked out at nearly four in the morning, swaying slowly while embracing each other and humming along to Sweet Caroline.

***

A few days after med ball, Rey got some more insight into Rose’s fight with Hux. Two days after that, Rose became a single woman once more.

“Fucking jackass,” She spat, throwing her backpack onto the living room floor. “I hope he jumps off a bridge.”

For the next hour, Rey sat calmly on the couch and held Rose’s head in her lap, carefully caressing her hair while she let out every last emotion that she’d been bottling up since their fight had begun.

They’d made things “official” to the class in April of first year, about six months after they’d started seeing each other. Things did seem to be going alright for awhile. Rey was still pretty apathetic towards Hux as a person, and he’d always seemed very private and aloof, but he seemed to make Rose happy, and that was good enough for her. The problems started when they’d gotten to the phase of the relationship where it was logical to start meeting each other’s parents.

Hux had spent New Years’ eve with the Tico family. Rose had claimed that the night went well, but in hindsight that might’ve been the champagne talking, because she also claimed that he kept freezing up and barely exchanged a word with her parents or Paige. But a few days before med ball, he’d told her that he would have to skip the event, as his father was in town so they were meeting for dinner. Rose knew by that point that his relationship with his father was…testy, at best. Brendol Hux was a well-known lawyer in downtown Toronto, and Armitage had been the product of an affair that he’d had with either his secretary or maid…while he was married. Real sordid stuff. He never knew his birth mother, but he’d spent his entire life trying to prove to his father that he was worth acknowledging as a worthy heir. His father had only agreed to help him financially on the condition that he got into either law school or medical school. But he needed Hux to produce results and demonstrate that his investment had been worthwhile.

Rose knew all of this, and she had suggested skipping the ball and going with him to give him some moral support, but he had dismissed her idea in a less than stellar fashion.

“He said his father wouldn’t ‘approve of me,’” She said, holding up air quotes. “Like how else was I supposed to take that?!”

Rose knew how to put up with bullshit, but that statement had been a step too far. She’d gone above and beyond to show that she was beautiful, intelligent, capable, and dedicated to her craft. Anyone who didn’t see that was not worth her time or effort. So, after fighting about it for a few days, Hux suggested that they’d be better off as friends.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Rey said softly, stroking her sobbing friend’s hair. 

Rose let out a small sigh and dug her face into Rey’s lap. “I hate everything.”

***

On a drizzly Saturday in April of second year, Rey, Finn, and Rose went out for lunch with Jannah to a small Italian restaurant in town. The suggestion of a strategy meeting had come as a bit of a shock to them. Jannah had found out a few weeks earlier that she would be doing an emergency medicine block at the Chandrila Regional Hospital nearby. Though the town’s population barely exceeded 30,000 (including the students at the University), the hospital served people from all over the Northeast. She knew she was going to be busy, but perhaps a little less sleep-deprived than in Kingston. So, she had texted Finn and offered to give them an in-person rundown of what the next two years of their lives were going to entail.

Jannah had not attended Chandrila med, but instead had gone to Western. And while the school curriculums had their differences, it wasn’t like any of them had a reason to decline her advice. Chandrila, being the youngest school in the country, had some significant gaps in its counselling system. Of the 600 people who had graduated since its inception, about three quarters of them went on to become family doctors. Very few of them were able to get into mid-tier specialties, and only ten people had gotten into general surgery. One person got into dermatology in Calgary two years before Rey started, and the still the school was bringing them back to give talks to the students. His father taught dermatology at the University of Calgary.

“So—“ She said loudly, biting into a rather large and still-steaming hot piece of margherita pizza from their shared plate. “Final stretch of second year, how’re you all doing?”

The three of them exchanged looks, then Rose turned to Jannah and shrugged. “I guess, fine?”

Jannah nodded enthusiastically. “What case do you guys have this week?”

“Pre-eclampsia,” Rey said quickly. “They’re wrapping up all the obstetrics stuff.”

She chuckled to herself at that, as if recalling a particularly funny joke. “Ah yes, the best subject. Have any of you fallen in love with it yet?”

They all smiled good-naturedly and shook their heads in unison. Perhaps some people could enjoy obstetrics, but the idea of having to keep a full-grown person and a tiny little creature alive at the same time? Not appealing. Rey was half-convinced that those who went into the field were pure masochists, right up there with neurosurgeons and Doug Ford’s personal assistant.

“Good!” Jannah said a little too loudly. Then she craned her head back and continued yelling towards the ceiling. “Ugh, that rotation was such a nightmare.”

Half the heads in the restaurant turned towards them, making Rey freeze in embarrassment. Jannah seemed completely oblivious.

“About that,” Finn said gently, leaning into the centre of the table. “Any specific advice for next year?”

Jannah quickly straightened herself and started rattling off tips and tricks at such a fast caffeine-riddled pace that Rey could barely keep up. She spent most of the initial phase of the rant scarfing down a couple of pizza slices while staring directly at her mentor. Rose spent some time sipping away at her coke before doing the same, but Finn hadn’t touched anything in front of him and instead focused on his cousin’s words with rapt attention.

“Okay, so the most important thing,” Jannah said slowly as the last of her espresso took effect. “Is that if you know what you want to do, make sure to do suck up to that doctor as much as humanly possible. But also—like, do good at all of the rotations. You’ll want to keep your options open.” She pointed to Finn. “So what do you want to do?”

He blinked and then awkwardly tilted his head to the side, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not sure but I’m starting to think Emergency Med? Maybe?”

Jannah nodded. “Okay, so is there a story behind that? Like is there something that made you decide you wanted to do it? Or something you’ve done in the past couple of years that got the ball rolling?”

Finn scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, I did SimWars this year.” He paused, then lowered his voice in embarrassment. “Didn’t make nationals, but you know. I had a good time, and if the ER’s like that then maybe that’s what I’ll go for.”

“Gotcha. Do you have any contacts in the field?”

“Well, there’s one guy in fourth year, and he just matched into McMaster, so maybe—“

Rose raised an eyebrow. “You mean Poe?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I mean we’ve been talking for awhile and stuff, and he was the one who convinced me to do SimWars.”

“Didn’t know you guys were so close.” She mumbled under her breath.

When no one responded, Rose pursed her lips and turned to face Jannah. “I did SimWars in first year. These two weren’t particularly interested at the time though,” She added, jerking her thumb towards both Finn and Rey. “But I don’t think ER’s my thing.”

“So do you have a thing?”

Rose sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know. I just want to help people. And ideally get into something in Ottawa with my sister.”

Jannah nodded seriously. “That’s totally understandable. You just need to give yourself a chance to shop around next year and figure out what you like.” Then, she turned to Rey. “What are you thinking?”

Rey opened her mouth, only for Finn and Rose to break in and drawl out “Pediatric oncology,” in unison. She sank back into her chair, feeling her skin flush from embarrassment.

“Right yeah, you told me that a few years ago. And that’s good that you have a goal. But don’t be afraid to keep your options open, you know? My friend Kai was dead-set on neurology for the longest time, and then he did a radiology elective in fourth year and fell in love.”

Rey’s mouth twitched ever so slightly, while her hands were clenched together under the dark wooden table. “I understand, but I’m not changing my mind.” She’d already built most of her extracurricular activities around paediatrics and cancer research. With so many eggs in one basket, she couldn’t afford to change paths, even if she wanted to.

Jannah shrugged casually. “And that’s fine too. Just make sure you can get some good reference letters out of it. Show them that you’re comfortable with kids, and that you can cooperate with your classmates and residents.”

Rey nodded. “Got it.”

Jannah leaned forward and locked eyes with Rey. “Listen to me. It doesn’t matter if they’re the Antichrist. You need to be able to work with them.”

***

After finishing the fifth microbiology video of the morning, she decided to use her self-assigned lunch break to lay facedown in her bed. She needed to give her eyes a rest from all of the cartoon metaphors and mnemonics and let things sink in before trying some practice questions. She needed to get them done before 4, then get down to Starbucks.

For the last six years, Rey had spent each summer break working part-time as a barista, and full-time in any McMaster medical research lab or clinic that would pay her more than minimum wage. She would always set one week aside at the end of July and volunteer at Camp Trailblazers. This year, after being ghosted by numerous paediatricians she’d cold-emailed at Coruscant and the university hospital, she was stuck only with a guarantee of the paid barista job and the unpaid camp job. The rest of her time was devoted to preparing for the boards exams. While the QE1 was a whole year away, she knew that if she were to start preparing early, she could be ready to ace the exam and be prepared for any potential pimping in the hospital.

There was an ease that came with a busy routine like this, even if some of seemed excessive by her classmates’ standards. Rey found a certain peace in having a consistent routine, especially if it left minimal time for relaxation. Wake up, grab a bite to eat, start the shift, lunch, study, work, eat, and sleep. It kept her in a productive state, and she figured it’d be good practice for her future as a resident working an average of 80 hours a week.

When she was at home in her little apartment, things were quiet. It was not a peaceful sort of quiet. It did not carry her breath into its embrace or offer her a warm blanket that shut out the noise of the world around her. It did not block out the blaring sirens of the police cars and ambulances that drove by the building, nor did it offer her solace when the sounds pierced her eardrums and made her entire body freeze. Every subtle little movement, every shuffle against the cracked pine wood of her bedroom floor, every squick against the pale tile floors with the shattered edges where she’d broken a bottle of wine as a teenager…they all echoed briefly in the small square of her home, but they did not fill the air the way that sounds were meant to. They did not reach the metallic grey paint on the wall, nor did they reach the cream-coloured areas that she’d started peeling back in small lines years ago out of boredom, the small wall of icons that she hadn’t dusted in months, or the sparsely placed photos of her and her mother smiling at Disneyland and embracing at her 15^th birthday party in matching bubblegum wigs. She found no solace in the silence, though the rent was cheap enough for it to still be the place she’d called home since childhood. More often than not, she would play some music through her headphones and hum to herself, trying to make the world just a little bit smaller and safer.

It was a lonely place to live, and she knew it. When not at school, Rey was perpetually alone. On one hand, she liked it that way. It was, in many ways, a part of how she was raised. So when the world became too much, she tended to default to that state, though a rational part of her knew it was unhealthy. On the other hand, she felt like the quiet of the apartment was like an endless void in the deep sea that kept pulling her down and down. Oppressive, all-encompassing, and numbing. That was the thing that kept bringing her back around in the end. That was the thing that kept her there. This space, with all of its absences, just made her feel numb.

The apartment had been like this for many years. It was not a place where she’d hoped to welcome anyone for drinks. She’d always thought of it as looking pretty pathetic, especially compared to her own friends’ places. There wasn’t much else in the realm of personal toys or decorations, save for a couple of old art projects, some flowers on the kitchen table that always seemed to be dying due to her forgetfulness (this week it was a bunch of roses), a couple of old Barbie dolls (a doctor and a supermodel) and an incomprehensibly old and stained stuffed rabbit with a half-ripped ear. The nicest thing that she had on display in her living room was a bright yellow throw pillow labelled “Scream Here”. It had been a gift from Finn from last Christmas.

She wished she could have been hanging out with Finn. He was in Toronto for the summer, working as an ER porter. He’d found the job by chance, after talking to Jannah and realising that he needed an “in” to get some exposure to the field before rotations began. So far, he seemed to be enjoying it. He texted her frequently about some of the stuff he’d seen, from broken bones to stab wounds to all kinds of contraptions stuck up people’s assholes. Sometimes she'd drive down to visit him and grab lunch, but this week he had a number of family obligations. One of Jannah’s sisters was getting married, and everyone in their family was flying over for the wedding. He’d offered to bring her as his plus one months ago, but she had politely declined. Too much effort, too much money for a dress and preparation, and too much missed work and rent payments.

Rose, meanwhile, lived all the way in Kingston during the summer, where she was currently volunteering at an addiction clinic run by one of Paige’s old supervisors. She seemed far less forthcoming about the state of things. The clinic was just another bit of resume-building to her. Another way to test the waters and see what she liked and didn’t like. Hopefully getting some time in there would make the next two years go down more easily.

Rey didn’t know much about what her other peers were doing that summer, and many of them were from Toronto and Ottawa. As much as she could bring herself to like them, it wouldn’t be worth the gas costs to visit.

Ben Solo, she realised, was the only classmate whom she knew lived in the same area of Hamilton as her. Her mind wandered towards the thought of him aimlessly, like a feather caught in a gust of wind. It wasn’t like she actually wanted to see him or talk to him, but there was something that stirred in her at the realisation that he could be nearby, something that made her wonder if they could have—or would have—gotten to know each other before med school. Maybe they’d met in Coruscant, even in passing? Rey knew that she’d been the subject of at least a few case reports. She spent half her waking hours there either trying to keep her breakfast down or getting interviewed by a revolving door of eager students and residents. If he was working under Skywalker or Djarin or anyone in those circles, it wasn’t crazy to imagine that he’d heard of Teodora, one of the regulars. One of the make-a-wish kids. Maybe he’d taken blood from her, or watched someone else do it. She was always so profoundly exhausted and weak that many of the faces she’d seen had started to disappear or blur together. Hell, they could have met fifty times by this point in a grocery store and never have known it. She still recalled their encounter a couple of years when he’d told her that he grew up by Aberdeen…but that was just a street. She didn’t know his address, and it was unlikely he knew hers.

He could though. Coruscant had her address on file. Maybe he—no, he wouldn’t—but would he? No.

She chased the thought away and rolled over, willing herself to stand up and get back to work without wondering where he was. How she’d felt when he’d called her Teodora, like a part of her had been exposed that she’d long tried to bury. How he’d—

Her phone buzzed. She opened it immediately.

Finn: Guys, placements are out!

Finn: …

Finn: I’m Coruscant B!

At the sight of Finn’s text, Rey felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. Today was the day that the next year of her life was going to be determined, and it might come to define the course of her future. Shakily, she tried to unlock her phone and start a group call, but Rose beat her to it.

She answered, but Finn declined, texting with parents, sorry.

“Rey, what are you thinking? You said Coruscant, right? Did you get it?”

“I’m checking now,” She said, nearly tripping over her bag while reaching for her laptop.

“It looks like I’m in Group B too,” Rose said excitedly.

“Okay, and I’m—“ Rey began while logging onto her school account. “Erm—“ Stupid wifi was making the page slow to load, and the sight of the grey loop going around a few times nearly made her throw her laptop across the room. But then it disappeared, revealing her placement and future group mates. She sighed in relief. “I’m going to Coruscant. Group D.” Surgery, then paediatrics, then internal medicine in her first semester. It was the ideal scenario for third year.

“That’s great!” Said Rose. “Who else is with you?”

“Let me check,” She said, scrolling down to the page with the lists of her group-mates. Vincent, Melo, Orla, Jess (unfortunate, but she could manage), and…

“Oh fuck.” Rey said sharply, feeling her stomach drop like a rock.

“What’s up?”

She shut her eyes, then opened them again, hoping she hadn’t seen it. No, nope, it was definitely there.

Closing the window, she put the phone up to her ear and said through gritted teeth: “Ben Solo’s in my group.”

Rey’s fantabulous list of medical school terms

*Alopecia: loss of hair from any hair-bearing area of the body, most often the scalp. May be congenital or acquired. 

Traction Alopecia: hair loss due to chronic traction or tension of the hair follicles. Treat by removing the source of traction (never, buns are too easy). Potential additional treatments include topical and intralesional corticosteroids and topical minoxidil.

Chapter Text

When medical students begin their hospital placements, they are often taken aback by how little they actually understand about the job that they’ve signed up for, and what information is truly important to retain.

The first half of the journey is a game where players have to amass an inhuman amount of knowledge on the human body, its flaws, its diseases, and the clinical exams needed to diagnose a potential issue. The second half begins with you realising that you are, in fact, an idiot, and should never have gotten into healthcare in the first place. You understand—broadly, as most information tends to fade away after exams if not reinforced—that the gallbladder is a small hollow organ that acts as a reservoir for bile before it gets released into the small intestine. It connects via the cystic duct to the hepatobiliary tree, forming the common bile duct that leads all the way to the gut. The pancreatic duct connects to it, and both pipes release their respective substances to help digest what the stomach enzymes could not (fats, mostly). You recall that sometimes, people can develop gallstones from cholesterol or bilirubin buildup (the latter stones are darker). It can cause pain in the right upper quadrant region.

But what good will that knowledge actually do you in practice? How do you apply that information when someone shows up to ER screaming in pain, while their eyes burn a sickly yellow and their temperature is shooting up to 40C? What purpose does the trivia serve when you’re trying to assess if the person is being forthcoming about all of their medications or drinking habits and you have to consider whether they risk dying on the table? How helpful can your study notes and diagrams be when you’re watching the surgery from above and trying to differentiate the fleshy red nerves from the arteries, veins, random bits of tissue, and the thing you’re actually trying to cut.

It’s frustrating and humiliating to be the ignorant one in the room again, especially for a group of people who have spent years obsessing over marks and exams. They’ve tried to create an identity of an intelligent, capable medical student, but that’s not the same thing as being a working doctor. Because no matter how many times you rehearse a script, your nerves may get the better from you when the time comes. Your palms begin to sweat, your throat closes up, and none of it comes out the way that you intended.

***

On her first day of third year, Rey woke up at 5am and made sure to prepare herself for meeting everyone in the hospital at 7. She cranked her alarm clock to its maximum volume to guarantee that she would wake up nice and early. For the first time in three years, she did not have any roommates. Since she already lived in the apartment, it was easier to just go back to the single apartment life and drive to the hospital, rather than go through the absurd dance of searching for subletters or paying her landlord Mr. Plutt an extra hundred bucks to make sure he wouldn’t change the locks while she was living six hours away.

After a long shower, she spent a considerable amount of time putting on a subtle, professional layer of makeup—more effort than she made for any PBL session after the first two weeks of first year—and put on her nicest pair of teal scrubs. Hair in a high bun, sky-blue stethoscope sitting around her neck, name tag hanging from her side pocket. For a moment, the woman looking back at her in the mirror looked like a doctor…or at least, a resident.

“Well…” She stared at her reflection, at the poorly disguised bags under her eyes, and tried her best at a crooked style. “You’re halfway there.”

She didn’t eat breakfast in her kitchen, as she planned to treat herself to an iced coffee and farmer’s wrap from the Tims drive-thru near the hospital. With a deep breath, she grabbed her keys beside the door, and paused to brush her thumb over her favourite piece of the keychain; a small red rose in a glass cage. After all this time, it had not lost its lustre. Even the small pieces of confetti inside still sparkled and danced with even the most subtle movements. It was her favourite little lucky charm. It had survived the MCAT, the interviews, and the last two years of exams. Only two more years to go. Heart pounding, she clutched it with her keys and stepped out to meet the rising sun.

Rey arrived at the towering glass and silver building at 6:45am, and was in the Chandrila students’ room five minutes later. She sat alone at the end of a table for fifteen minutes, trying to imagine what the day was going to be like. It was strange to her, the realisation that this was going to be her first time walking around in Coruscant as something other than a patient. She still had to come for the occasional follow-up, but that was now happening only once every other year. She wouldn’t be due to return in that capacity until mid-March. Today, her job was to establish a relationship with her assigned general surgery team and survive until she could begin her paediatrics rotation.

Eventually, the other students rolled in, all holding some combination of coffee or tea with their half-eaten breakfasts. She greeted Finn and Rose with a warm, tight embrace when they entered the room. They were renting a four bedroom that was only about a ten minute walk away from Coruscant, along with Kazuda and Melo. Rey still hadn’t visited their place, as they’d moved in while she was still at the camp, but they’d made her promise to have dinner with them as soon as possible.

Twenty-nine more students came through the door in total, and Ben Solo was one of the last to arrive. Multiple people greeted him warmly, but Rey just slunk behind Finn and Rose and started asking them about the new place.

“It’s pretty nice,” Finn said casually, either oblivious to Rey’s attention or pretending to be. “We’re pretty much next door to the gym, and the rent’s only eight hundred a month.”

“Wifi’s shit though,” Rose interrupted him with a friendly nudge. “I can’t even get a signal in my room.”

Rey nodded, half-paying attention, and peeked over Rose’s shoulder to see what was going on. He was leaning against a wall and laughing at something Orla said. She let out a breath and returned her focus to the conversation. That lasted all of five minutes, at which point the program head came in. She was a tall, regal woman, with wrinkled yet clear ivory skin and bright violet hair that sparkled against her long dark dress. 

She took a deep breath, then said, “Welcome, everyone, to your first clinical placements here at the Coruscant Hospital and research centre.”

Thirty students total, in a class that had shrunk from seventy-five to seventy, had been sorted into five groups, and would spend the next eight months rotating through the five core disciplines; surgery, internal medicine, obstetrics, psychiatry, and paediatrics. 

It will be torture, it will be hell. There will be shelf exams at the end of every six-week rotation to test your meddle. But by god it will whip all of you children into shape.

The woman—Dr. Amilyn Holdo—didn’t quite phrase it like that. Her voice was buttery soft, and she stood with her head tilted ever so slightly, with hands delicately clasped just below her waist. But there remained an authoritative edge to some of her words. Not threatening, just strict. She was the head anaesthesiologist at the hospital, and the thread connecting it to Chandrila. She organised the schedules, delegated the rotations, and kept every student and intern in line.

Rey followed her sheepishly through the halls as she began the tour through Coruscant’s facilities. She only brought groups D and E with her, as they would be the only ones in the OR in the first six weeks. The others were still in the room figuring out their lockers and waiting for one of the medical doctors to show them to their own wards. 

Ben remained at the back of the small line, though his head bobbed slightly above the rest of the crowds. While she was listening to Holdo’s tips and directions, she couldn’t help but turn back occasionally to see what he was up to. Ben seemed slightly bored, glancing at the doors as they passed each one. His gaze lingered slightly, his brow barely wrinkled and lips pursed as if lost in thought, or some old frustrating memories. As though he had been through each of them a million times before. He probably has. She thought. Well, at least in the oncology wards. For a moment, she wondered if she looked like that too. The hospital had barely changed at all. Same cream-coloured walls and oak rails, same tinted glass that stopped the sunlight from blinding them as they strolled through the main hallways.

He met her eyes once, but his expression was unreadable. She dropped her gaze, feeling strangely embarrassed. Then crinkled her nose. They were close to the OR, and she was already catching a whiff of the smells. Disinfectant, and the unmistakeable odour of anaesthetic. A shiver ran down her spine.

“Hey,” A small voice suddenly said from just beside her.

Rey nearly jumped out of her skin, only to realise that it was Jess, walking to her left. Her hair was much longer than before, now tied up in a neat braid that hung a few inches down over her fresh, shapely navy blue scrubs.

“Hey,” Rey said slowly, desperately trying to compute a good response. “How are you doing?”

Jess shrugged, but turned her gaze to Holdo’s back. “I’m alright,” She said. “Kay’s stuck at Chandrila, so I’m rooming with Temmin and L’ulo for a bit.”

“Cool,” She said with a curt nod. “Glad that you found a place.”

“How about you? Where are you—“

“This is the entrance to the operating rooms,” Holdo said, stopping the crowd of students in its tracks. “And this—“ She said, taking a step to the side and kicking what looked like a vending machine full of folded mint-green shirts. “—Is where you’ll get your surgery scrubs. There are bins in the change rooms for the end of the day.”

The group nodded in unison, to which Holdo smiled warmly before continuing on to the paediatrics ward.

“Living at home this year,” Rey continued quickly, turning her gaze downwards and shoving her hands into her shirt pockets and thumbing at the diaphragm of her stethoscope. “Cheaper rent.” She knew that it came out as a little curt, but in that moment she didn’t particularly care. The coloured footprints were multiplying, red, orange, yellow, green.

A small tremble was starting to form in her hands. She thumbed the diaphragm with a little more force.

Jess pursed her lips briefly, then nodded. “I’ll see you around then.” A pause, followed by an awkward chuckle. “I mean, we’ll be seeing plenty of each other around the wards.”

“Yeah, I guess we will.” She said quietly, her eyes drifting up towards the door that lay in front of her.

“This is the paediatrics ward,” Holdo said with a graceful swipe of her card. With a loud click, the doors drifted open, revealing a new region of the labyrinth. Rey looked up, then behind her at the other students. Many of them were looking around with emotions that ranged from indifference to wonder. Ben’s eyes seemed half-open. She turned back. Bright sky-blue paint covered the walls around them, and there was a subtle sharpness to the scent, like there’d been a fresh coat of paint added just a few days ago. There were pictures of bright-eyed cartoon children, some riding butterflies and dragonflies, others waving nets and all smiling.

Holdo seemed to float to the desk in the centre of the spider’s web of “Coruscant currently has the largest paediatric ward of all of the general hospitals in Ontario. You’ll get three weeks with a general paediatrician, then three with neurology, respirology, and oncology.”

Rey’s eyes widened as she heard the last word. She shouldn’t have felt her heartbeat quicken like that—it should have been with excitement, not this nervousness. What was wrong with her? The world slowed down for just a second, and she could have sworn that Holdo was looking at her, and the pale blue walls were just a little closer together, the white lights above a little more piercing. Oh God. Against her better judgment, she turned once more.

He was staring right at her, jaw hard and brow furrowed. Their gazes locked instantly, and a spark passed between them. Subtle, but sharp enough for her breath to catch in her throat. He’d promised not to tell anyone, she reminded herself. And part of her still trusted him on that. But she still hated that she had to walk around with this awareness that someone other than Finn and Rose knew anything about her past. She resented the knowledge that Ben Solo had seen her medical records. He knew that she’d spent time here and that fact alone just made her anxiety about it worse.

Everyone else was listening to Holdo’s little spiel about the different paeds wards and doctors, but she was just stuck in place, taking in everything around her, every memory of trudging through the hall, shivering, clutching a cold metal rod, bile perpetually rising to the back of her throat. She couldn’t do this, why did she think she could do this, stupid stupid—

“Oh hello!” Holdo said excitedly.

Rey looked to see who she was talking to, and nearly jumped out of her skin. Dr Djarin, with his white coat and shining silver stethoscope, was standing next to Holdo and greeting the group.

“Everyone, this is Dr. Djarin. He’ll be supervising your paediatric oncology rotations later this fall.” She gestured to him with a bright smile. He chuckled and gave the group an enthusiastic wave. Everyone quickly nodded their heads. Rey felt like her knees were about to buckle. He looked exactly the same as she’d remembered, except for some gray streaks in his hair that were starting to become a bit more obvious. He and Holdo stood at similar heights, but he was tanned where she was pale, and he wore a plain grey button-up with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and casual black pants.

“Nice to meet everyone. Looking forward to working with you, and even if you’re not on paeds but want to get some extra experience, just look for me here on the wards drop in to my clinic—“ He turned and pointed to one of the doors. “—And I’ll be happy to chat.”

They said a few more things, but Rey could barely make it out with the blood pounding in her ears. Then, Djarin and Holdo exchanged a polite nod, and he started walking towards her, a step and another step—and then right past her. As if she were invisible. He didn’t know who she was. A small bit of relief washed over her as she followed him as he continued to the end of the train of students, and then stopped in front of Ben. A silence fell over the crowd, broken only by the sound of him giving him a friendly pat on the arm.

“Nice to see you Ben,” He said sincerely. “Drop by whenever you get the chance.”

And, with that, Dr. Djarin was gone. And Ben’s face flushed. He looked, honest to god, mortified.

Holdo took them a little further into the web, while still pointing out a few wards. Luckily, she didn’t take anyone into the wards themselves, which were covered with tinted windows and colourful curtains. They weren’t allowed to hang out with any of the patients during orientation. Too much stress and awkwardness on all sides.

Save that shit for the bedside tutorials.

The tour was mercifully short after that, as the only things they had left to see were the emergency department, a couple of the adult medical wards, and the food court on the main floor. Tims, Pizza Pizza, and a regular hospital cafeteria that served various daily specials at only $3 a plate for staff. Finally, they made it back to the lockers, where she took the A, B, and C groups out for their own tour. Rey barely had time to talk to Finn and Rose before they were out the door and her groups were forced to search for lockers and figure out which surgeons they were assigned to for the first couple of weeks from the clipboard on the table in the centre of the room.

Rey swiped the clipboard off the table first. There were six members in Group D, and four general surgeons listed. So, when she saw her and Ben’s names next to each other under Dr. Rae Sloane, she had to stifle a laugh. Someone was fucking with her. Holdo, or some other organiser on campus who lived for drama, God, the universe, the Force…someone was really looking to make the next six weeks (and possibly the rest of the year) as uncomfortable as possible.

“Can I see that?” She heard a voice say at her right.

Not wanting to turn, Rey put the clipboard back on the desk and let Ben reach over and have a look. She tried to watch out of the corner of her eye as he studied the list and then calmly put it back down.

He let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Aaah fuck,” She heard him mutter, before he reached up to rub his face.

“I’m not happy about it either,” She murmured, shoving her hands back into her pockets.

“You say something?”

“Hmm?” Rey whirled to meet his eyes. For a moment, all that was running through her mind was one thought: he knows. He remembers Teodora.

Ben blinked. After an awkward moment of silence, he frowned and pointed at the clipboard. “I know Sloane’s resident,” He said, pointing to the name down below. Rey leaned over to check. Dr. Phasma Galanis.

Of course he did. She wouldn’t be surprised if he knew every last doctor in the hospital.

“What’s she like?”

He paused, then shrugged. “She was pretty intense. Try not to get on her bad side.” Without another word, he left the table and returned to rummaging through his locker. Rey did the same, unable to fully pay attention and instead watching his moves. Did he not realise that they were going to be stuck together? Was he not at least a little frustrated to be stuck with her? Or did he not care? She wasn’t quite sure which would make her feel worse.

A minute later, both of them were up with their stethoscopes, notebooks, and water bottles.

“You ready?” Ben asked, nodding to her little black notebook.

Rey nodded to herself and bolted towards the door.

The silent walk from the room to the general surgery ward was torture, and Rey could barely process the bustle of the staff around her because all she could focus on was what the rest of the day was going to bring. So they’d missed morning rounds, but maybe they could still catch her in the wards before she went off to OR, and if she couldn’t jump in then maybe she could help a nurse or do something else to make a good impression.

“You know, you don’t have to run.” Ben drawled from just behind her. “It’s eight o’clock, they’re already in the OR.”

Rey turned to see him striding along casually, one hand in his pocket. Even with her brisk walk, he was matching it without much issue. Stupid long legs. Stupid giant of a man. She grimaced and picked up her pace as she approached the stairwell, stomping hard on the first step. “You don’t have to come.”

“True, but one of us should at least pretend to be calm enough to work. Or get pimped.”

“I’m perfectly calm,” She stopped to grab the railing, gritting her teeth.

“Really?” He said, leaning over her like a great shadow.

Rey glanced his way to see that he was smirking. 

“You know you’re shaking, right?”

She was, and she knew that. It had started in the paeds ward, but remained only because of her bitterness and anxiety of being around him. She didn’t ask to deal with this spectre following her, but there wasn’t anything she could do to chase him away.

Biting her lip, Rey removed her hand from the railing and drew in a deep breath. “I’m fine,” She said with as much calmness as she could muster.

Ben raised an eyebrow, then shook his head and continued up the stairs. Rey had to leap across steps to keep up with him. By the time they reached the fourth floor, she was completely out of breath. While she tried to regain it, he just leaned a against the wall nearby, tapping his foot rhythmically on the white linoleum.

“You know we’re allowed to take the elevator, right?” He mused while she continued to draw in shaky breaths.

“Shut up—“ She snapped. “I just—just need a second—“

“It’s fine,” Ben said curtly. “I get it.”

Rey swallowed the bile in her throat and straightened herself up. “You get it,” She mimicked sarcastically. “God you’re an asshole.”

“What are you—“ He narrowed his eyes, then stopped, realising what she meant. “Fuck Rey, are you serious? Is that what all this is about?”

“What d’you mean, ‘all this’?”

“You’re giving me shit because I—“ He bobbed his head. Because I have dirt on you.

A physician sped past them, barely registering them while they continued their quiet argument in the corner of the stairwell.

Rey let out a dry chuckle. “God, if that were the only thing.”

“So what? You’re still holding a grudge? I thought we agreed to let go of first year.”

A million possible versions of the next line arose in her mind. Different ways that the conversation could go, things that she’d internally rehearsed since the spring.

“You called me Teodora,” She said instead. Stupid, stupid.

He blinked, as if replaying that night in his head, then lowered his head. “I’m sorry if that was too much,” He said. “I just wanted to be sure.”

“Well you are now.” She said angrily. Jesus Christ she probably sounded like a child. “Have you told anyone else?”

He blinked. “What? No—no, of course not.”

She stared for a moment, then pulled back. He wasn’t lying.

“I’m sorry,” He said, inching closer. “Is that what you wanted me to say? I’m sorry about first year, and I’m sorry about what I said at medball.” He sighed. “I’m sorry for talking to you at all.”

Rey opened her mouth to respond to that, but her throat was dry. Slowly, she closed it and pursed her lips together, crossing her arms. "Why did you even ask me that?"

"I--" He sighed. "I just wanted to know. You looked familiar and it just...started driving me crazy."

She flinched, then narrowed her eyes. "Did you--were you with him on rounds or something? Is that where you saw me?"

Ben stared at her for a moment, his brow furrowed. Then, they relaxed, though his voice retained an edge. "Yeah...yeah something like that."

Rey blinked.

“We’re not on campus anymore,” He continued, an edge of bitterness to his voice. “This is the real world, where sometimes you have to work with people, even if you loathe them.”

Despite the accuracy, that statement stung just a bit too much.

“I don’t—“

“I don’t actually care what you think of me,” He said quietly, crossing his arms. “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll say you’re also the last person I wanted to be partnered up with.”

Despite his indifferent words, Rey could feel his gaze pierce her. She swallowed a lump in her throat. “Okay,” She murmured.

“It’s just six weeks. Hell, it’ll be less than that. Three of them will be on other subspecialties. We don’t need to be friends, we just need to tolerate each other in front of the team. Then, if all goes well, we can go back to avoiding each other until graduation. And then you’ll never have to see me again.”

She considered this, then nodded. “Okay. Okay, sure, that works. Six weeks. I guess…I guess we can make that work.”

Ben nodded, satisfied.  Then, he turned around, and opened the door. He held it open while she lingered, then gave her a nod as she unfroze herself and walked towards him. Then, she stopped, feeling a slight tremble come back into her hand. A few thoughts came back to her in that moment, anxieties about what Dr Sloane would think of her. What kinds of questions would be asked? Would she know anything, or just stand there looking like an idiot while he got everything? No, no she couldn’t be thinking like that. He was nothing to her, and she’d spent all summer working on her stuff. She could—she couldn’t—no, fuck, she could do this.

Rey stopped and glanced down, then up into the hallway beyond her. She drew in a deep breath, closing her eyes. First impression needed to be good. Even if she hated him, she was here to work and eventually reach her goal. Even if that meant stepping over Ben Solo to get there.

“Deep breaths, sweetheart. You’ll be great.” His tone was neutral, dry even. But crossing the threshold, passing a brief glance at his lips…she could have sworn she saw the ghost of a smile.

Rey’s reference list of medical specialties pt 1

*(Please note that the information is based largely on classroom experience and medical dramas)

Family Medicine/General Practice

-You’re a primary care doctor. You have a clinic in the community, and see people outside of a hospital setting. Mostly for antibiotics, pain, asthma, and diabetes. Easiest work schedule of all the specialties, but you usually have to cover your own clinic costs if you get your own, and you’re the one who has to refer people to hospitals. Possible to climb the ladder and spend more time in hospitals…but honestly it’s not appealing.

Rating: 5/10 (Indifferent, not applying)

Paediatrics

-Children’s doctor. Can be general (GP but for the younglings), but many will subspecialise based on their preferred passion, allowing them access to the hospital wards. Oncology is the priority.

Rating: 10/10 (no shit, since it’s my number one choice)

Internal Medicine

-Paeds, but for people over 18. Which, in practice, means that more than half of the patients are going to be elderly. Certainly more interesting cases for the nerds who keep track of that sort of thing, but the hours during residency are the most disgusting outside of the surgical residencies (like 80-100 a week).

Rating: 7/10

Chapter Text

“Dr. Sloane? No, she’s in the OR right now.” The nurse—Linda, Rey saw on her nametag—looked up from her desk. “Are you two the new medical students?” She was a pretty blonde woman, perhaps only in her mid-thirties, but there was a slowness to her voice that made Rey wonder when was the last time she’d slept. Her eyelids were drooping ever so slightly.

Rey nodded. “We had orientation earlier.” Her gaze drifted to Linda’s right, where a large coffee cup sat.

“Do you know how long she’ll be in there for?” Ben asked.

Linda shrugged. “Hard to say. She’s got two hemicolectomies today, so she’ll either be out of there in the next two hours or five.”

“How about her resident?” Rey asked.

“Dr. Galanis?” Linda asked. Then, she blinked a few times in rapid succession. “I think she’s with Sloane, but I can page her for you.”

Rey and Ben pulled back and awkwardly stood by the desk while Linda made the call and hung up the phone. A minute passed. Then another, and pretty soon five minutes were gone without an answer. Patients, doctors, nurses, therapists came and went through the corridor, forcing Rey to dance around to dodge beds and equipment and what not. None of them gave her a second look.

“Okay…” Linda said, standing up from the desk with a few charts in her hands. “I have to run, but if the phone rings, one of you can answer it. If it’s not Phasma, give it to another nurse and they’ll handle it. And if you don’t hear from her in the next ten minutes, then I’d say you can probably go grab yourself some coffee.”

They nodded and returned to their wall while she trotted off with her things. Rey pursed her lips and found the desk to fixate on in a desperate attempt to avert Ben’s gaze.

Linda had left her cup behind.

The two of them leaned awkwardly a few feet apart from each other. There was a thin wooden rail against it that gave her the slightest bit of support, but still she felt stupid and useless, barely a fly on the wall.

Ben seemed to have the similar idea, because a minute later he pulled away from his own little spot and walked around to the other end of the desk and sat down in Linda’s chair.

Moments later, the phone started ringing. Ben picked it up immediately, and Rey ran to his side and knelt down to try to hear what was going on. He said “yeah” dryly a couple of times, then said their names. A pause, an “okay” from him. Then he hung up and sighed, laying his head back.

“They’re in OR, she wants us to talk to 314 and present to her here at 11.” He closed his eyes as he said that, as if the prospect of such a thing was physically painful for him.

“Okay,” Rey said, nodding to herself. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Do you want to do the history or exam?”

After a long pause, she agreed to be the one to do the history. Easier on her nerves, and she wouldn’t have to risk touching the patient in the wrong place and making them angry.

Ben nodded and stood up slowly, dragging himself to the board to check the names and grab the chart and some gloves, and then they were off to the wards.

“Hello sir, are you Wedge Antilles?” Rey said softly, stepping in front of his bed. Ben hung around a foot behind and closed the dark blue curtain.

The old man before them was lying down with his hands folded carefully over his stomach. The head of the bed had been raised up, so they could see each other clearly. He was a handsome person, perhaps only seventy, and seemed calm (bored, even) and well-perfused. There was no shortness of breath, no significant exhaustion, and no equipment save for some nasal buds delivering him oxygen.

Wedge Antilles nodded. “That’d be me.” She noticed immediately that he had a light Scottish accent.

“My name is Rey, and this is Ben.” She said, sitting down at the foot and pointing to Ben at her side. “We’re medical students, and the doctor’s asked us to have a chat with you.”

Wedge raised an eyebrow. “Did the scan come back?”

“Umm—“ Rey said. Shit. First history and she was blanking.

Ben broke in. “Not yet, but Dr. Sloane bring the results to you as soon as she can. We’re just here to see how you’re doing and what happened to you.”

Wedge paused for a moment. “That’s fine, then. Fire away.” He said.

Rey looked up. They exchanged a nod.

“Mr. Antilles,” She continued.

“Wedge is fine.”

“Okay, Wedge. Can you start by telling me what brought you into the hospital?”

And so it began, Rey’s first experience taking a history in the hospital setting. She’d been warned that it would be different from her experiences in the first two years with her classmates and the few actors the school could hire. 

Wedge Antilles, age 71, had presented to Coruscant with severe pain and nausea three days prior. Right upper quadrant of his stomach, and it had come on after eating a substantial dinner with his wife for their anniversary. She recognised these symptoms immediately as cholecystitis* but bit her tongue so as not to comment on the matter. He didn’t seem to be fully aware of what had happened to him, but said he’d initially thought it was food poisoning.

“Have you ever had pain in that part of your stomach before?” Rey asked delicately.

He paused, looking off into space, then nodded to himself. “Sometimes,” He said plainly. “I’d usually have to lie down for a bit after a burger.”

Wedge was quick and blunt, never willing to give too much information in one go. Sometimes, she had to push him a bit to get the full story.

She asked him if he smoked—or if he’d ever smoked.

“Not really,” He said absentmindedly. “Just a few if I’m feeling jittery.”

Rey looked down at his hand. It was trembling ever so slightly.

“How many, specifically, would you have in a day?”

“Maybe five.”

She leaned in. “Maybe?”

“Well, how many are in a pack?”

“I think it’s twenty.”

He paused. Then, “Ten a day then. Five on Sundays.”

Rey tried to remain unfazed as she continued. It seemed that with every passing minute, he was growing more and more distant, going on tangents about his stepson and his time as an RAF pilot in Moray. Then as a Canadian Air Force pilot in Greenwood, Nova Scotia. He’d moved to Hamilton about five years ago to be closer to his stepson and his family. She asked him twice if he’d had any siblings or if his parents had issues with their stomach, but he ignored her questions both times.

“Wedge—“ She said a bit too harshly when he started talking about meeting his wife while they were both on tour in Afghanistan. “I wanted to ask if Norra, or anyone else in your family has any medical conditions that we should know about?”

“Not that I know of,” He said. Then, unexpectedly, he focused his gaze beyond her and towards Ben. He raised his hand and pointed at him, a soft grin spreading across his face. “You stand like a military man, you know. Did you serve before you came here?”

Rey turned to watch Ben’s reaction. It wasn’t something that she’d ever really paid attention to, but yeah…he was standing like he had a stick up his ass. He stood silent and stunned for a moment. Then, he dropped his shoulders and shook his head, the edge of his lip curling up. “No, but good eye. My father did some time in the Air Force.” Then, without skipping a beat, he turned to her. “Do you have any more questions for him?”

She blinked. “No, I think I have everything I need.” Then, she stood up and nodded to Wedge respectfully. “Thank you very much.”

Without skipping a beat, Ben moved in front of her and began the physical exam. First, the hands, then the wrists, face, and mouth. Wedge seemed engaged in a way that he hadn’t been with Rey, and though it probably meant nothing, part of her resented it. She didn’t know if it was a gender thing, a military thing, or perhaps some unconscious resentment towards her British accent, but it made her feel just a little bit smaller.

“When did he serve?” Wedge asked as he lifted up his shirt.

“He just did a few years at Borden,” He said. “I think it was ’80 to ’83.”

Wedge nodded. “Aye, what was his name? I may have met him."

“Small world,” He said, ignoring the first question. “Now I’m just going to have a feel of your stomach. Let me know if anything hurts.”

Rey shuffled around to the other side of the bed to get a better view, and was surprised to see a slightly distended stomach marked with a few scars and a small lump in the lower right region. They looked like the results of a laparoscopic surgery, which was interesting considering that he’d denied ever having one. Maybe he didn’t think it was important information.

“Can you have a quick cough for me,” Ben said, putting his hand on his stomach. He complied, then Ben moved onto examining the rest of the stomach.

Wedge winced slightly as Ben passed over the area of the gallbladder, so he apologised and moved away just as quickly. She waited for him to try to take things further and elicit Murphy’s sign, but he never did. He just skipped ahead to the auscultation step, responding with no more than a word or two to Wedge’s attempts at chit chat.

“That’s everything. Do you have any more questions for us?”

“D’you know when the scans are coming back?”

Ben smiled. “Not yet, but we’ll make sure the doctors talk to you soon.” He leaned over to pat his hand, then turned to leave, barely acknowledging Rey’s presence.

Wedge seemed satisfied with that, so Rey stood up and said “Thank you again, Wedge. We’ll chat with you soon.”

He nodded, his eyes drooping closed as she turned to open the curtains. “Thanks,” He yawned, then turned to Rey. “Thank you nurse.”

It stung a little to hear that, but she took a deep breath and pushed it aside. She’d been warned of this many times, and wasn’t about to let it affect her.

It was a shame though, hearing those words out of his mouth. She should have felt some pride in that moment. It was her first real history and exam, even if Ben had been the one to do the latter. And yet, all that was running through her mind was the way that he’d expertly endeared himself to Wedge without giving too much away or letting him derail the conversation.

While the two of them sat in the records room writing down his comments and reading his charts, Rey took a deep breath.

“Is it true what you said about your dad?” She asked quietly, not looking up.

“Yes,” He said, his voice carrying an edge of frustration. “Is that information relevant to you?”

She bit her lip. “I just—I guess I assumed that he was a doctor.”

He said nothing for a long while. Then, he sighed and wrote something into his own notebook. “He's about as far from a doctor as you can get."

"And your mom? Siblings?"

"No, and I'm an only child."

She blinked. Ben Solo, big nepotism baby that she'd assumed he was, and neither of his parents were doctors? "So how'd you get into medicine?"

"It's a long story."

“I have time,” She murmured.

“What I mean is that it’s none of your business.” He said dryly.

"You already know a lot about my business," She pointed out.

He glared at her. "You don't want to talk about it. So consider it erased from my mind."

"But--"

"I haven't asked you about your parents, and you don't need to know about mine."

Oh. She suddenly felt ashamed of herself for commenting on the matter. She stared down at her pen for a few seconds, then clicked it closed and put it down. “You forgot to check for Murphy’s sign.”

“We could figure out he had cholecystitis from his history. And he winced on light palpation,” He said, closing the chart. “Going in deep would have been redundant and could have easily destroyed the relationship you spent twenty minutes building.”

Rey had nothing to say to that. As much as she hated it, she knew he was right. It just wasn’t the kind of thing that they’d been taught to consider in their first two years of medical school.

When you read about the background of a condition in most textbooks, you will always see a series of specific subheadings.

1. Etiology, or causes of the condition. This, you could usually deduce from a simple conversation. Cholecystitis is usually caused by a gallstone or two that stuck around, and may be exacerbated by a fatty meal. The nastier types of lung cancer are usually caused by smoking or screwy genetics.

2. Pathophysiology, or the changes in your body that lead to and prolong disease and injury. Multiple sclerosis is caused by prolonged inflammation and demyelination of neurons. Essentially, the insulators are slowly sheared off of the wiring, leading to dysfunctional signals.

3. Signs and symptoms. The former are a series of definitive features that you find on examination, and the latter are subjective elements that a patient may cite in their explanations. For example: Murphy’s sign is positive when a person stops breathing suddenly upon deep palpation of the right upper quadrant. The textbooks say that this is a definitive sign of cholecystitis. To not to it would have been a huge blunder on any exam. Yet Ben seemed totally blasé about it.

“He didn’t tell us that he’d had surgeries before,” She said, hoping to change the subject. “There were scars from a lap.”

“People lie all the time,” Ben said matter-of-factly. Then he turned, realising Rey was giving him a look. "I'm not saying that as an insult. A lot of us lie when we go to the doctors'."

"He could have just forgotten." She replied with an edge of irritation.

“He also changed his story on the cigarettes.” He tapped his pen against the closed chart. “ER wrote here that he smokes a full pack a day and drinks at least two shots of whiskey a night.”

“Oh,” She said. “Is that why he’s not in surgery yet? They want to see if they can get him off the alcohol?”

He shrugged. “That might be part of it. He also had a hernia in that area. That’s probably where the lap scars came from.”

She groaned and crossed her arms. “Why couldn’t he tell me that?”

“He probably didn’t think it was relevant.” Ben said. Then, he checked his watch. “It’s nine now, I’ll meet you back here to present to Phasma.”

“Where are you going?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Does it matter?”

She swallowed, looking up as he stood from his chair. “Kind of, yeah.”

He rolled his eyes. “I have a breakfast sandwich sitting in my locker. I’ll see you later.”

Rey didn’t even get a second to open her mouth before Ben left the room. She remained there for a few minutes skimming over the notes she’d made on Wedge Antilles, then returned his chart to the shelf and followed suit.

Finn and Rose were both indisposed; their respective paediatricians had probably put them to work the moment they finished orientation. So Rey spent the first hour of her un-scheduled break strolling through the corridors, flipping around on her phone and trying to rehearse how she would present the history to Dr. Galanis. Against her better judgment though, her thoughts kept returning to Ben’s parents. It didn't seem right that they weren't doctors. He was too known by the staff, and too...good at everything.

One thing that she'd learned since starting Chandrila was that the medical field had way more nepotism babies than anyone would ever admit to. Medicine had always been about who you knew, even more so than what you knew or how well you knew it. People without those connections always had to fight tooth and nail to get research spots, call and email doctors for shadowing opportunities, and build up their images and applications from scratch. Jess had told her once, when they started dating, that she wanted to be a general surgeon. She'd talked at length about how cool the OR was, and how fascinating surgical patients were.

How'd she find her way into one? Well, her father's colleague had let her in to watch some surgeries when she was only twenty-one. At the time, Rey had smiled awkwardly and said that she'd enjoyed the OR too, plucking at loose threads of her hazy childhood memories. Flashes of panic before being put under, when she'd seen the doctors, nurses, and students rummaging around her. Waking up to a bandage on her skin and an IV in her hand.

She'd only ever been in the OR as a patient, and unfortunately, that didn't count as 'prior clinical experience.'

Rey suddenly felt guilty for asking him about his family. Part of her wished that she didn't know anything at all. She wished they could just got back and start over, before they started talking about Skywalker. Before he'd revealed he knew about her medical history.

She had made so many unkind assumptions about his upbringing and personality over the past couple of years. Even though she'd been right about his personality, she knew it wasn't fair to him. Being such a private person herself, she understood why he'd shut her down. She'd never really allowed herself to learn too much about another person unless they actually invited her in. Even with Finn and Rose, she didn’t try to ask them anything about their families until they invited her over for thanksgiving or Christmas for the first time.

Well, no more of that. Rey knew he knew about her past at Coruscant (without her consent) and they were going to be spending most of their time together. Even if he wouldn't tell her about his family, she could at least stalk him on social media. Maybe she could get some dirt.

The problem, she soon realised, was that Ben Solo was barely more than a ghost online. He had a Facebook account (with a blurry headshot as his profile picture) for communicating within the Chandrila med school cohort, but beyond that? His instagram was private (with another blurry headshot), he had no Twitter account or anything else to speak of, and the only thing to show up when she googled his name was a LinkedIn account.

LinkedIn showed that he had indeed graduated from McGill with a degree in Immunology (and a 4.0 GPA). Under work experience, she could see that he had done six years of research from the end of high school on the EGFR oncogene under Dr. Luke Skywalker. No papers listed, and no indication of exactly what caused him to quit besides what she already understood to be some animosity between them. But, after graduating, he went all the way to Stanford (Stanford?!) to do a PhD. Something about the long-term psychological effects of pediatric cancer on adolescent development. It had been published in a psychiatry journal. That much was surprising. She would never have pegged him for a psychiatry enthusiast.

She tried to pull up the paper, but found herself immediately faced with a 140 USD paywall. Absolutely not.

She scrolled away from the education section and tried to see if there was anything else useful. There was nothing else in his profile related to the military or frankly, anything outside the realm of medicine and academia.

She soon decided that this was a waste of her time and shut her phone off, returning to her notes from Wedge’s history. An hour later, she returned to the surgical ward to wait for him and Galanis. Ben showed up about five minutes after her, striding along with his hands in his pockets. He came up and stood beside her at the same spot on the wall as before, neither one of them exchanging a word. Finally, after she felt like she was going to die from boredom, the doors to the ward burst open, and in came a woman wearing bright blue surgical scrubs and a cap, still wearing a white mask.

Ben sighed and turned to Rey. “And that would be Phasma.”

Dr. Phasma Galanis was a mountain of a woman, pale and broad-shouldered, and standing even a few centimetres taller than Ben himself. She came up to them immediately, removed her scrub cap and mask, and ran a hand through her short gold-blonde hair.

“You two are my the new students?” Her electric blue eyes drifted between them, stopping on Ben. Rey saw her brows furrow ever so slightly. “Lovely. How’ve you been Ben? How many years has it been?”

"Eight." He said dryly. "So I see you went over to the dark side."

She cocked her head. "I see you took your sweet time coming back."

“I’m Rey,” She jumped in, trying to sound as enthusiastic as possible. “I’m really looking forward to spending time with the team here.”

“Don’t care, and don’t suck up. It’s not going to make me like you. And while you’re with me, you will refer to me as Dr. Galanis. Now—“ She said, stepping into the records room. “I don’t have any residents under me right now, which means that the three of us will be spending a lot of time together over the next six weeks. So we need to move fast. Did you do a history and exam on 314?” She said this while motioning for them to follow.

“We did, yes,” Ben said immediately, stepping over the precipice.

 Dr. Galanis sighed and sat down in the nearest chair. Yet even with that, she still looked like the tallest person in the room. “Good, then close the door and present your findings.”

Rey pulled it closed and stood with her hands behind her back. “So we have Wedge Antilles, age seventy-one, presented with pain in the right upper quadrant of his abdomen. —“

She groaned and rubbed her brow. “Don’t use the patient’s full name, or you are breaching the rules of confidentiality. Try again.”

Rey started to open her mouth again, but Dr. Galanis crossed her arms and interrupted her train of thought again. “And have your notes ready, don’t ever try to present findings to me based on memory alone. I can guarantee you will forget something important.”

Rey flushed, cleared her throat, and started over. It took fifteen minutes for her to present a history that had taken up half a page of her notebook, with all of the interruptions, nitpicking, and frankly harsh suggestions for restructuring that kept making her lose her train of thought and nearly break down into tears at least once. Dr. Phasma Galanis was brutal, and the kinds of comments that she made, the criticisms of her language and posture made Rey wonder if she’d learned anything from the past two years.

“What are your differential diagnoses?”

Rey blinked. That wasn’t something that she’d ever been encouraged to share. Think think stupid brain. Differentials for abdominal pain.

“Erm—cholecystitis, cholangitis—“

“Did he have any features of jaundice?”

“No,” She started.

“Then cholangitis isn’t a differential for him. Continue.”

She tried, listing off the remaining gallbladder, liver, and pancreatic diseases that she could remember. When Phasma nodded for her to go on, she tried to call up on more of her GI knowledge and awkwardly suggested that it could be appendicitis (to which Phasma replied that he’s an old man, so highly unlikely), diverticulitis (left side, not the right), ectopic pregnancies (forgetting in the moment that this was a post-menopausal cisgender man), and kidney stones or pyelonephritis (had this been the case, he would have had loin to groin pain and trouble urinating).

When Rey was done, the doctor let out a long exasperated sigh, throwing her head back. “You need a lot of work. For the next week, I will expect you to take a history from a patient in these wards every day and present it to me. Follow the proper structure and organise your thoughts better. And for tomorrow, after rounds I want you to present the differential diagnoses of abdominal pain by location.” Without waiting for her to respond, she turned to Ben. “What were the results of the physical exam?”

Ben rattled everything off in quick succession, though when he said that the Murphy’s sign was positive Rey felt a tinge of frustration. Finally, when he was done, Phasma gave a quick nod. “How would you describe the hernia?”

“Umm…” He said. “Inguinal hernia, normal…medial to the inferior epigastric vessels, and direct?”

She let out a huff and put her head in her hands. “How do know it’s medial?”

He made a sound like an old computer loading.

“You cannot know until you open him up.” She finally said, clearly out of patience. “Tomorrow, you’re going to teach Rey and I about abdominal hernias.” Then, she checked the pager hanging off her lanyard and stood up, tying her up scrub cap one more time. “You two are free for the day, but I expect you to be here for rounds at 7am tomorrow. Be in the OR by 8, and if we have room then one of you can scrub in. Make sure to actually eat breakfast beforehand, I don’t want anyone fainting.” She stepped out of the records room, leaving the door hanging open behind her, and bolted down the hall.

Rey and Ben stared at each other for a long while after she left. Ben then let out a sigh and moved to leave.

“Told you she’s intense.” He said casually, putting his pen and notebook back into his pocket

But Rey was too shell-shocked from the encounter to say anything.

“Don’t worry about it, you’ll get better with practice.”

Arrogant prick. “You couldn’t even answer her question about the hernias.” 

He turned back to her, one eyebrow raised. “And you would have been able to?”

She bit her lip. For a moment, she wondered if he was lying to her about that. He had been able to recognise that bump as a hernia and figure out that he’d had surgery without any real mental effort…surely he knew more than he was letting on.

Slowly, he moved towards her, his voice darkening. “I’m at the same level as you, Rey. I don’t know everything, I can’t know everything, and that’s why I’m leaving now to go study and learn more.” He was dangerously close to her now, and she pulled back slightly, feeling her breath catch in her throat. “You should do the same.”

He slammed the door behind him and left her in the room, alone with her hot crimson cheeks and the sound of her racing heart.

***

After a couple hours of studying alone in the library, Rey texted Finn and Rose and asked if either of them were interested in going to the gym. Finn was the only one who agreed, as Rose had been offered a chance to do afternoon rounds with the neurology team. So they met at Goodlife around two and went in to do what they’d spent last six years of their friendship doing; spotting each other on the big weights (though Finn could bench twice as much as what Rey weighed) and throwing the punching bag around.

Rey had not—and did not want to—explain the entire list of reasons why she was so put off by Ben Solo, especially his involvement with so many Coruscant doctors and knowledge of her past. That wasn't something she talked about to anyone. Finn and Rose knew a bit about her mother, and that she'd had cancer as a teenager and was treated at Coruscant. They knew this only because of a breakdown that she'd had in undergrad, a few days after Mum's funeral.

Beyond that, however, they didn’t know about Dr. Skywalker or Djarin or anyone else in her life. It wasn't their business, and she didn’t think it would do any good to dump all of her trauma on either of them now now. Finn probably just get mad at her for not telling him sooner. But when she told him what had happened with her and Ben getting paired up and presenting their first history and exam, it seemed to take all his strength not to burst out into laughter.

“Whoever made that list must really hate you,” He said with a chuckle, grabbing onto the pull-up bar.

Rey let out a loud groan and put her head against the wall, waiting for him to finish his reps. “I can’t let him get to me.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Finn said, jumping down from the bar. “The time’s gonna fly by.”

“How about you?” Rey asked, stepping up to the bar and taking hold. “How was your first day?”

“Pretty chill, I just did rounds with the team and then studied for a bit.”

“Have you fallen in love with it?” She asked, mimicking Jannah, before pulling herself up for one rep. Then two. Three. Four. And a shaky fifth before she had to plant her feet back on the ground and steady her breathing.

“I’m not going to steal your spot Peanut, don’t worry.” Finn replied. “Parents scare me too much anyway.” Then, he did a quick set of ten and jumped off again.

“I didn't mean it like that,” Rey said, crossing her arms.

He grinned and playfully nudged her on the arm. “I know, I was just kidding.”

Rey punched him in the arm in retort, then grabbed her bag and ran over to the punching bag on the other side of the gym. She reached in and pulled out her wraps, then looked up to see Finn checking his phone and smiling at something that he’d just received.

“Are you and Rose going to see much of each other in the coming weeks?” She asked suddenly.

Finn blinked and put his phone back in his pocket. “Not really,” He said, a little sadly. “But I think she’s hitting it off with her team, so…I’m glad about that. I’m sure she’ll be great.” Even with those words, she detected a sort of sadness in his voice, though she did not yet understand why.

Rey nodded and went to the bag, positioned herself while he stabilised the other side, and began punching it like Ben’s face was taped to the front. She loved this part of her workout routine, even though she’d only ever done a few free kickboxing classes that McMaster had offered. It was the one socially acceptable activity that allowed her to actually take out her anger and frustrations on something. So she wanted to make every punch, hook, and kick count.

Stupid—stupid fucking—can’t do anything right—

“Woah Rey, you almost hit me there, careful—“

“Sorry—“ She said in between breaths, then centered herself and tried again. Right hook, left, kick. Right, left, kick.

Thinks he’s better than me—asshole—stupid stupid stupid—

And with one final kick, she nearly threw Finn to the other side of the room.

“Okay,” She said, finally feeling like she’d gotten the day’s crap out of her system. Already, she knew that this punching bag was going to be more valuable to her than anything else in the coming weeks. She took a deep breath and steadied her heart again. “You’re up.”

Rey’s fantabulous list of assorted medical school terms

*Cholecystitis=prolonged blockage of the cystic duct by a gallstone that leads to progressive distension, inflammation, and infection. Stones and wall thickening may be seen on ultrasound. Treat with antibiotics and IV fluids, and book a cholecystectomy (gallbladder removal surgery) as soon as possible.

Chapter Text

Tuesday, or Rey’s first full day on the job, started out as most days in the hospital do: with rounds. Neither her nor Ben were invited to participate or share their thoughts during this time, being the green medical students. But they followed Phasma all the same to hold charts and read out numbers on the clipboard. Every now and then, she or another accompanying them would ask a short question, clearly expecting a snappy answer. ‘Did 320 have a fever at any point overnight?’ 38.5 briefly. ‘What was 311’s urine output?’ Rey couldn’t find the page in time. ‘Was 323 presently septic?’ No: said Ben, matter-of-factly. She didn’t have a fever.

Rey knew that was the wrong answer, because Phasma gave a light tsk before she stopped addressing Ben altogether.

At no point did Dr. Sloane show up to round with them, nor did Dr. Galanis quiz them on the material that Rey had spent hours preparing the night before. When it ended, however, she told them curtly to go have their last snack for awhile, get changed into scrubs from the vending machine, and meet them in the OR. Today, they were going to jump right in. Wedge Antilles was having a laparoscopic cholecystectomy.

Rey admittedly knew very little about the procedure. The actual ins and outs of surgery were not things that they learned much of in the first two years of medical school. She knew in concept, what a laparoscopy was—or a “keyhole surgery,” as Phasma had described it to Wedge over rounds—but not much beyond that. Still, that didn’t stop her from reading up on it in the precious few minutes she had to herself in the change room.

Once she was satisfied with her cramming, she put on the mint-green surgical scrubs, a matching disposable cap and white mask, and checked herself in the mirror. She certainly didn’t feel like a surgeon in these clothes. They smelled like they’d been freshly made. The sleeves felt floppy against her shoulders and the pants were barely hanging onto her waist by the drawstring. They didn’t fit her properly, they felt wrong, she felt like a fraud. This was what the big people wore, what the pros wore. She wasn’t a pro. She had only ever been here…in a gown.

Instinctively, her right hand found the skin of her left one. She brushed a hand against it, and then felt herself shiver, before dropping her hands.

Ben was standing in the hallway when she emerged, flipping through his phone. When the change room door closed behind her, he turned slowly and looked at her.

Though Rey could not quite interpret his expression, his gaze made her breath catch in her throat. Stupid—she shouldn’t have felt like that—why was she feeling that? But then he dropped his gaze to her chest and she looked down to realise that her name tag was on upside down. Lovely.

She took a minute to wordlessly straighten herself up, then looked back up to see that Ben was still looking at her, his expression unreadable.

Rey clenched her jaw. “We should go.”

He trailed behind her as they snaked through the corridor to OR 5, where they knew that Dr. Sloane’s team would be.

Slowly, Rey creaked the door open with Ben and walked in. Before them was a line of faucets, where Phasma was already scrubbing away, her forearms covered in white soap.

She passed them a glance. “Rey, you’re scrubbing in. What size gloves do you need?”

“Uhh—“ Rey looked at her hands, then at the shelves of gloves beside her head.

“You look like a seven,” Phasma said, shaking her hands. Grab some gloves and the gown, and open up the packs on the shelf. Do you know how to scrub?”

Rey looked at her uneasily.

She sighed, then looked to the main room, jutting her neck towards a tanned, grey-haired nurse helping to set up. “Hey Dedra, can you help us out for a minute?”

Dedra came to her side immediately and did just that, first by helping Phasma into her own gown, then by walking Rey through the scrubbing process. She had to start over twice, as she kept touching the faucet by accident and breaking the sterile field, but eventually she managed. Ben snaked by awkwardly while Dedra was tying her gown and went to stand in the far corner of the room, a bit behind where Phasma was prepping Mr. Antilles’s covered body.

“Okay, when you’re ready, just come in and keep your hands to yourself,” Dedra said, demonstrating by pulling her own hands in and holding her palms towards her chest. “Got it?”

Rey nodded, her heart pounding, then followed her inside. She first passed a glance to Ben, who just looked down to his notebook, then whirled and looked for a passageway to the centre of the OR.

“You can come around this way,” A voice said.

Rey turned to see Dr. Holdo shifting the tubes and ventilator machine. She gave her a smile—or at least, what she interpreted to be a smile, as she could only see her eyes wrinkle above the mask—and showed her how to step around the equipment without touching it. Rey murmured a nervous thank you and hobbled to the bed, where Dr. Sloane and Phasma were setting up with a scrub nurse.

Dr. Sloane was older than she’d looked in the profile picture, with some visible wrinkles around her eyes and a long grey streak in her hair that was visible even under her scrub cap. She stood nearly a head shorter than Phasma, but everyone in the room knew she was the boss. 

Rey took her place beside Phasma, put her hands on the blue cloth, and immediately pulled them off, realising she was touching his hip.

“You must be the medical student,” Said Dr. Sloane, not looking up. “What’s your name?”

“Rey Johnson,” She replied immediately, holding up her hands awkwardly.

Sloane gave her a look. “I’m Dr. Rae Sloane, nice to meet you.” Without skipping a beat, she took a scalpel from the nurse and put it to the bare skin. “I’d suggest putting your hands down somewhere. This is going to take a while. But if you’re patient, Dr. Galanis will show you how to sew him up.”

Rey’s hands eventually found a lower part of his leg. She passed a glance up towards his head, but found her view obscured by a large blue drape, where Holdo was adjusting some tubes and the screen of the ventilator. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, steadying herself for the procedure.

She could already feel the gown weighing on her chest. God this room was hot. And the sound of the monitors kept piercing through the thick air, giving her jitters. Beep. Beep.

The actual surgery started uneventfully enough, at eight thirty. The pair of surgeons poked three holes into Wedge’s bare abdomen, widened them, and stuck a camera and two instruments in. She craned her neck to look up at the TV screen to see the inside of his abdomen, in all its pink and yellow glory. Then, she watched, occasionally drawing in a breath and shivering as something began to waft into her nose.

“Okay, so cauterise here—“ Dr. Sloane said to Phasma. Then, she glanced at Rey. “Which artery are we going to ligate?”

She raised an eyebrow. Paused. “Cystic?”

Sloane returned to the operation. Rey blinked, her vision blurring slightly, until she realised that she wasn’t going to be asked about anything else.

Music was playing. It was soft and light, full of violin and flute. She recognised it, it was…she could have sworn she’d heard it before.

Beep.

“What else are we ligating?” Dr. Sloane asked.

Rey blinked, then realised she wasn’t being asked the question this time. She turned around. Ben was standing a bit closer to her, beside Dr. Holdo, who was sitting and writing something, with his hands behind his back.

“Cystic duct,” He said.

Sloane said nothing. Rey turned back. Then, something happened, and she wrinkled her nose. Burning…she could smell burning. Immediately, she let out a full-body shiver.

Beep. Beep.

She closed her eyes, then counted to three in her head. Her breathing was getting heavy, that smell was so striking. But she was okay, it was part of the process. Cauterisation was necessary. It stopped the small parts of organs, tissues, and vessels from bleeding out.

She opened her eyes and returned to her position.

“Hey,” a voice said behind her. She turned to see Dr. Holdo standing up, leaning in, her voice low with concern. She caught a scent of something else, and tensed up again. The edges flashed black. Black stars against a snow-white white sky. “Are you doing okay, honey?”

Rey blinked, then pursed her lips and nodded. “I’m okay.”

Holdo frowned, then came in closer and whispered. “You’re looking pale. If you need water, you can take a break at any time.”

She nodded, then saw Ben out of the corner of her eye, stepping towards her. That smell hit her again, stronger this time. Stronger, even, than the smell of burning flesh before her. Her cheeks were blazing, and her chest felt heavy, like it was being weighed down by a cinder block.

Rey’s voice came out hoarse. “I’ll be fine.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned to the TV. They were pulling the gallbladder away from the liver tissue now, sending small spurts of blood out and immediately cauterising the remains. The small storage sac, originally bright red, was starting to look black and patchy from all the assaults on its surface.

Beep. Beep.

Her eyes were drooping. She shook her head, mindful of Holdo and Ben standing close behind her. The top of her hands were starting to ache. The tops of her hands. She felt her breath catch in her throat, then pulled her hands off the leg and shook them once. But as soon as she put them back, she felt something sink in her stomach, and her body swayed forward and back.

“Rey,” Phasma said beside her, gritting her teeth. “If you’re not feeling well, take the gown off.”

She shook her head. “I’m…I’m fine…”

“Take the gown off.” Phasma said curtly.

Rey stepped back shakily, blinking, the black stars blanketing her vision. She stood still, wrapped her hands around the gown at her chest, and jerked it off. It didn’t come off. She tried again, shakily, and it came off a bit. The strings…strings behind her were still tied.

“Are you okay?” Someone said in a low voice behind her. She didn’t know who.

“I’m—“ Rey reached behind to find the drawstrings.

Her body went numb. Her limbs went weak. Everything went black, she felt herself drop--someone caught her—and then she moaned and let herself fall into the darkness.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Rey? The voice was distant, muffled.

Did she hit her head?

Rey, can you hear me? Louder now. Panic-stricken.

“Stupid…” She murmured. “So…I’m…so stupid…”

Someone get her out of here! 

Rey?! Her body was not her own. She was being lifted, carried, set softly down. She swam in and out of reality, seeing white masks, eyes, white skies and black stars. She blinked and looked to the right, where a porter was pushing her along, their brow creased. Were they irritated with her? Someone was holding her left hand. She felt a wave of nausea and closed her eyes, willing herself to forget this.

Her eyes opened, and slowly...so slowly, the world came back into focus. She  felt something against the back of her head. Slowly, she felt around, then stopped, realising it was a pillow. A pillow.

Fuck.

She sat up from the bed, her eyes darting around the room while her heart continued to race. Wait—it was empty, where were they? Where was she?

Then, her eyes fell on Ben. And she swallowed, hard. He was sitting beside the bed, one hand draped over the side of the rail. And he was looking right at her, his brow furrowed and eyes wide. 

She swallowed back another lump in her throat. “How long was I out?”

“You regained consciousness pretty quickly. It's been less than ten minutes,” He said quietly. “How are you feeling?”

Fine, She wanted to say. Except for a ringing in her ears. But she couldn’t make any more sounds, not when he was looking at her like that. Concerned. Strangely…sincere.

She lay back down and stared at the ceiling, before draping an arm over her eyes. First surgery and she had already humiliated herself. She had fainted. After all of that preparation, eating breakfast, steadying her nerves, forcing herself to stand there and take that onslaught of stimulation. All of that, and she’d fainted. They’d all seen it. Ben had…

“Wait,” She said, groaning and flipping herself onto her side to face him. “Why are you here?”

He gave her a look, like that was the dumbest question that he’d ever heard. “You passed out in the middle of the room. They needed someone to watch you.”

She blinked, then looked down at the pale blue fabric. It smelled clean. Disinfectant. “Where are we?”

“ENT operating room,” He said. “They don’t start until ten, so we’ve got the place to ourselves.”

They said nothing to each other for a minute, and Rey closed her eyes, taking in the smell of the room. Here, there was no surgery going on. No other person. No anaesthetic, or burning flesh, or monitors. She took that in for a minute, the absolute lack of beeping.

Then, she opened her eyes and looked down, tracing her fingers along the fabric.

“Are they mad?”

He let out a huff. “No. In fact, they’re quite happy that you didn’t hit your head.”

She blinked. “I didn’t? Who caught me?”

Ben paused, then looked away. “I did.”

Ben Solo had caught her.

And she said nothing. He’d caught her. Once again, this asshole was present in her moment of weakness.

As if sensing her insecurity, he crossed his arms and leaned back into his chair. “I was the closest one, and if I’d missed, you would have cracked your skull on linoleum.” A pause, a breath between them. “So, you’re welcome.”

Her mouth was hanging open. What exactly was she supposed to say to that? Thank you? I’m sorry? Won’t happen again?

Instead, she cleared her throat and turned away, forcing herself to shakily climb out of the bed.

“What are you doing?” He asked, striding beside her.

“I’m going back to the surgery,” She said.

“You know they’re not going to let you scrub in again, right?”

“I know,” She grimaced, then reached for the doorway. She clutched the doorknob and twisted it, her heart pounding in her ears. “But I can’t let them think I can’t do it.” Fine, surgery wasn’t anywhere in her top choices. But it was her first day, damn it. She couldn’t let them see her as weaker, or less competent than her classmates. She needed to be able to stomach these things. Why was it hitting her now, when she’d been doing it for years?!

One large hand pressed against her back, the other one against the door frame. “Calm down.”

Rey whirled and nearly slapped him in the face. “Get out of my way.”

Ben remained unmoved. “You’re being stupid, Rey.”

“Fuck off.” She tried to yank the door open, but his hand was still against it. And his face…it was getting dangerously close.

“You’re sweating.” He said, brushing a thumb against her brow. “You haven’t had any water yet. They won’t let you back in looking like this.”

She licked her lips, startled by how dry they were. Asshole was right.

“There’s a fountain in the hall.” Immediately, he relaxed his hand and stepped back, letting her open the door. They walked out together, him close behind, while she took slow steps and remained mindful of the ringing in her ears and his hand hovering close to her back. Doctors, nurses, porters passed them by like wandering phantoms, not paying them any mind as they walked to the water fountain by the general surgery OR.

She filled up a plastic cup and put it to her lips, then closed her eyes and let out a sigh of relief, gulping down the icy water. Oh yeah…yeah that’s what she needed. But when she turned to get more, she saw Ben standing there, holding up a cup for her.

“Drink it,” He said, offering it to her.

She took it gingerly, then put it to her lips. When it was finished, she threw out both of the cups and stared at the trash can, unwilling to let her eyes drift to the window above her head. There was crying on the other side. Groaning. Beeping. The recovery room.

“Thank you,” She muttered, turning back to the OR door. Thank you for the water. Thank you for catching me.

“No problem,” He said quietly.

They exchanged a look. He held it for a few seconds, then nodded. “You’re getting some colour back.” Then, he motioned to his own brow. “Wipe that off and we’ll go back inside.”

She did as she was told, and then stepped back into the operating room with him following close behind.

Dr. Sloane was gone. Holdo was behind the curtain, still working away at her notes. The nurses were mulling about pulling the screens and lights away. Phasma was just closing up, and she did not acknowledge their presence until the last bandage was on.

She looked at Rey, her hands still on Wedge’s unconscious body. “What happened back there?”

Rey blinked, then stuttered, her voice trembling. “I—I—“

“I told you both to eat breakfast this morning. Did you forget?”

She shook her head sheepishly.

“Were you dehydrated?”

“No, no I was fine I just—“ Her voice trailed off. With every passing moment, Rey could feel herself regaining clarity. She knew on some level why she’d fainted, but it was difficult to articulate without sounding meek and childish. If she said it, they might not let her step into an OR again.

So, she went with the safe answer. “I just got really hot. It won’t happen again.”

Phasma looked at her, then shook her head and sighed. “You know—“ She said, ripping off her gown with one fluid gesture. “I fainted on my first day of residency. Almost took one of my colleagues down with me. It happens to everyone.” Then, she turned away, stepped over to a nearby garbage can, and stuffed her gear inside. She turned to Rey and Ben, then put her hands on her hips. “Just watch yourselves, and don’t try to power through these things if you’re not feeling up for it.”

Rey nodded, feeling a small bit of relief wash over her. “How do you do it? Like, the ten hour surgeries?”

Phasma and Holdo exchanged a look, then Phasma shrugged and crossed her arms. “Practice, I guess. When you’re in this game, your body is in such a constant state of stress that a lot of the trauma doesn’t hit you until you’re outside of the hospital.”

Rey nodded, understanding.

“Caffeine helps too, I suppose.” She said plainly. “I haven’t slept in thirty hours.”

Chapter Text

Even after hearing Phasma’s unexpectedly warm words, Rey still had trouble shaking off the embarrassment of her fainting episode. She and Ben stayed in the room for the next few operations after that. There was another cholecystectomy, a hemicolectomy, and two quick paediatric appendectomies. Dr. Sloane came in and out of the room for the surgeries, but always left her resident and the nurses to close the patients up. She barely acknowledged the two students standing awkwardly in the corner of the room. Neither of them even mentioned the homework assignments that Phasma had given them the day before.

Rey and Ben barely exchanged a word, though at one point he leaned over and whispered a quick “how are you doing?” She responded with “fine” and kept her eyes trained the blood and guts on the table in front of her. The burning smell wasn’t quite as strong from the corner, and Holdo was always positioned like a dutiful soldier at the head. Rey kept having to shuffle around, crane her neck, stand on her toes, and get dangerously close to the drapes to get the best view of the patient. At one point, Ben walked to the far side of the room and returned with a small orange and grey step-stool. Wordlessly, he put it down in front of her before stepping off to the side. She felt her cheeks grow hot, but stepped onto the stool without responding. The tension in her neck eased immediately.

The kids were operated on after lunch. They were both intubated in a separate room before Holdo, her resident, and the porter wheeled them in. When they brought the first appendix kid—a blond, wiry, ten year old boy—Rey caught a whiff of the gas and bristled. She stepped up to the side to help move the boy to the operating bed, and made the mistake of standing a little too close to Holdo. The smell was on her, mixed with the characteristic scent of bubble gum. The rock sank in her stomach. She had to step back for a moment to stabilise herself. The whites in the room flashed, and the black stars glowed in the corner of her eyes. It was all she could do not to gag.

Yeah…yeah, she knew exactly why she’d passed out. And already, she was praying for resilience, so that she could survive the next five and a half weeks without doing it again.

***

On Wednesday, Rey and Ben did not set foot in the OR. The students in the surgery group spent most of the day with Dr. Krennic doing bedside tutorials. He had them meet three patients in the general surgery ward, and picked students at random from the group to take ten-minute histories and do abdominal exams. At no point did he use anyone’s real names, but instead pointed to them one by one.

The people in the beds took things remarkably well. Two of them explained that they had been in and out of the hospital for months for colon surgeries, so they’d already met multiple crops of medical students from all over the country.

Ben was asked to take the history from the last patient, while the other five students stood around her bed and watched awkwardly, counting down every second until Krennic would step in. Tala Durith, age sixty five, had presented to the ER the night before with right upper quadrant pain a few hours after eating her dinner, fever, nausea, and vomiting. She was incredibly concise with her descriptions, and seemed perfectly at ease telling Ben her story. She even had a sense of her own diagnosis, and explained that her white blood cells were up, her liver enzymes were normal, and her ultrasound had shown a few characteristic signs: gallbladder thickening, distention, and visible gallstones. Tala said then, unprompted, that this was clearly cholecystitis, which would require surgery in the next day or so.

She turned her head to Krennic. “Who’s going to do the surgery?”

Krennic smiled and patted her on the shoulder. “I already spoke to Karn about it.” Then, he looked to the students. “Tala here was one of my best scrub nurses.”

Ben returned to speak to her, while Rey watched carefully, holding her notebook at her chest. Even here, under pressure from one of their professors, he was still remarkably composed, kind, and sincere. He looked like he could have kept the conversation going for the whole day.

All her life she’d met doctors who were perpetually in a rush, too bitter to humour anyone, or just too tired to be present for a conversation. She’d never held any of that against them, of course. After all, they were busy people. At any given time, there was someone else sicker than you, someone in real trouble, and therefore someone who needed their attention more. All the time, they would watch people die and then have to reset and return to their jobs like everything was okay.

But…she had always liked the doctors who would stay for the extra minute. The ones who spoke to you like you were a person with a life outside of the hospital. This was a learned skill, but already Ben was reminding her of those doctors. And even if he was an asshole around her, even if this was a facade…she enjoyed watching it. Even more than that, she enjoyed seeing Tala’s expression brighten, her body relax, and her eyes wrinkle with every smile and chuckle.

Krennic let Ben use up every last minute before asking him a few questions. He chose her next to perform an abdominal exam and guided her to the right side of the bed. Tala was extremely kind to her as well. She pulled up her shirt when asked, allowed her to palpate, and was very specific about where her pain was coming from.

Rey was about to palpate deeper than before, when she looked up and met Krennic’s gaze. “Is it okay if I move on to percussion instead of deep palpation?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why are you asking me that?”

She swallowed, feeling self-doubt creep in, but pushed through. “I would use deep palpation to find Murphy’s sign, but it’s already clear that she has pain in that area. It would be redundant.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ben shift slightly.

Krennic considered this, then nodded. “Very well. Yes, skip deep palpation and continue the exam.”

She did just that, and when it was over, Krennic took the students and guided them out for the lecture. Rey lingered for a moment and opened up the deep blue curtains around her bed.

“Do you need anything else?” She asked Tala.

She shook her head. “I’m alright, thank you.”

Rey nodded. “I hope you feel better and they get you into surgery soon.”

Tala smiled and closed her eyes, leaning back against her pillow. “I hope so, I’ve been fasting since this morning.” Then, she opened her eyes and looked to Rey. “You did very well with your exam.” Then, she winked. “Doctor Johnson.”

Rey blushed at the compliment, then waved goodbye to the nurse and went to rejoin her classmates.

***

Thursday was post-take for their team, which meant that they were up to their ears in new patients.

Well, really, Dr. Sloane and Dr. Galanis were up to their ears in new patients. Rey just spent the morning sprinting to keep up with the pair as they traversed the surgery wards. Ben just had to walk. The day’s rounds, which normally took an hour at the most, wound up taking four. By the time it was over, both of their stomachs were growling, their legs felt like wet noodles, and their supervisors were far too stressed to ask about Tala or even bother pimping them. The pair of them left the hospital at one o’clock, where they’d stayed every other day so far until four or five. They knew that tomorrow, they would be back in the OR. And Rey was not ready.

When she got into her car, her phone vibrated with a text from the larger Coruscant group chat. The internal medicine students had invited the surgery and paediatrics students out for drinks. The plan was to meet at eight at Digan’s, a nearby bar frequented by hospital staff. Later, they’d go clubbing for a bit at the Black Lotus.

She watched as a series of emojis and responses popped up onscreen, confirmations of each student’s attendance. Even Ben left a thumbs up in response to the original text.

A text from Finn quickly followed, who said that the paediatrics students were going to be stuck there until eight, and they’d meet them a bit later.

Rey silenced her phone and put it aside, then turned her key. The car’s engine sputtered for a second, stopped, and then roared to life. She drove to the gym and did a light arm workout alone, drove home and showered, then spent a few hours in her room studying the material from Wednesday. She didn’t want to think about how Friday was going to go. Best case scenario was that she’d stay away from the anaesthesiologist, they’d forget to ask her to scrub in, and she’d make it through the day. An imperfect solution, but hopefully it would buy her enough time to get her emotions in order.

After all, a good doctor needed to have an iron stomach. And if she couldn’t deal with the OR, then she would never make it through paediatrics.

***

The sun was beginning to fall below the treeline when Rey left the house. Her phone said that it would be a clear, pleasant evening, and that she would need about twenty minutes to walk to Digan’s. She prepared herself for the trip with a fully charged phone, her earphones, and a medical podcast ready to go. She didn’t dress up too much for the night, but opted for simple black tights and platform boots, a grey halter tank top, and an old jean jacket. Her eye makeup was minimal, her lips were covered in a light layer of gloss, and in her mouth was a piece of winter mint gum.

When Rey arrived, it was about eight thirty. She looked around for any classmates, but it seemed that they were all inside. So, she took a deep breath and stepped up to the door, swearing to herself that she would be careful. She’d eaten before leaving, and she knew that she would have to get up early on Friday. So tonight, she was not going to have more than two shots. She wasn’t going to let herself go beyond tipsy.

When she went inside, things were already in full swing. She caught a glimpse of some of the third years mingling with fourth years, residents, and others who were just passing by. Finn and Rose were still at home, and she wasn’t close enough with the others there.

Her eyes fell first to Jess and Orla, who were chatting away at the right side of the room. Then to Ben, who was talking to a guy in fourth year nearby. He hadn’t noticed her come in. With a deep sigh, she took off her jacket and went to the bar on the left end, sat down on one of the stools, and asked for a whiskey on the rocks. When it arrived, she took hold of the cool glass and stirred the drink around for a moment, taking in the smell while the country music blared around her and her phone vibrated in her pocket.

As soon as she lifted the glass to her lips, however, she saw someone move in the corner of her eye. Slowly, she lowered it and looked to the side. Then, she grimaced and took a large sip.

“Hey,” Said Ben, taking the stool behind her.

“Hey,” Rey replied, looking him up and down. He was wearing a black leather jacket and a plain grey t-shirt. Immediately, the smell of smoke and pine filled her nostrils. She looked at her drink, then drank the rest, and let out a small shiver as she set it down on the table.

The bartender, a short man with a short grey beard, red flannel shirt, and a name tag that read ‘Kino,’ reached over to grab it. Then, he turned to Ben and asked for his order.

“Heineken,” He said, turning to Rey. “Do you want anything else?”

Rey hesitated, then looked to Kino. “Another whiskey, please.”

He nodded and went to prepare their orders. Rey reached into her pockets to pull out the cash for it, but by the time she looked up, she could see that Ben had already beaten her to it.

Indignant, she set a few toonies in front of him. “I can pay for my own drink.”

Immediately, he pushed the money her way. “Don’t worry about it.” He said with an edge of gruffness to his voice.

She didn’t say thank you, but instead put the coins back in her pocket, then pulled the glass towards herself and lifted her shoulders. “How was your afternoon?”

He took a sip from his glass, then set it on the table. “Not bad. Got some studying done. You?”

She nodded to herself. “Same.”

They sighed in unison and each took a drink, while a new song began to play around them. It was slower than before, and a little quieter. Rey blinked, then looked to Ben, wanting to ask him something more. But he was looking down at his phone.

He looked up and met her gaze. “Phasma just texted us. We’re both going in tomorrow at nine. She says you’re scrubbing in first.”

She pulled her phone out of her pocket, feeling her heart skip a beat. Sure enough, the text was there.

“Lovely,” She murmured, putting her phone on the table.

“What’s wrong with that?”

She groaned and set her forehead against the table. “I don’t know how I’m going to survive scrubbing in again.”

“You just got hot, you’ll be fine.”

“It wasn’t…just that.” She said, straightening herself up. When he gave her a look, she released a small sigh. “It was…being in there. It was the smell.”

“The burning? I mean, it’s not pleasant, but we’ve all done time in the cadaver labs. Can’t be that much worse.”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “The burning smelled pretty bad, but…no, that wasn’t what did it.”

He leaned in closer, and dropped his voice slightly. “What was it?”

She met his large dark eyes, and watched a shadow pass over his face. Then, she turned to her glass, downed the rest of the whiskey, and set it down hard. The alcohol burned the back of her mouth, washing away any mucous or saliva blocking the way. A wave of it came over her soon after, immediately tearing down her wall of inhibitions. Fuck it, he might as well know.

“Do you know what sevoflurane* smells like?” She asked, turning her head so that she could keep her gaze locked on his.

“No idea.”

Rey sighed. “Have you ever been put under with it?”

Ben shook his head.

“No childhood surgeries? Not even your tonsils?”

He shrugged. “I was a healthy kid.”

Lucky bastard. She looked down at the glass and started tracing along the top edges with her fingertip. “It’s hard to describe the smell on its own. The doctors always just said it was ‘sickly sweet,’ but it’s different when you’re the one with the mask on your face.”

“How do you mean?”

Rey turned back to him, smiling sadly. When she next spoke, her voice carried a nearly imperceptible tremble. “It’s very pungent in high doses. I don’t know…it smells like some weird mix of disinfectant, fruit, and like…your childhood fear of the hospital made manifest. And since it’s whole purpose is to shut your body down, you just get completely overwhelmed by the odour.”

“So it’s like you’re being chloroformed?”

“A bit less forceful.”

He paused for a beat, then nodded. “Neat.”

“They use flavoured masks to make it easier for the kids to take,” She continued, shutting her eyes at the sudden flash of memory. “Strawberry, orange, banana, vanilla, bubblegum…” She trailed off, then shook her head, forcing herself back into the moment. “You know those scented markers that kids would bring to school?”

He nodded again.

She shivered “It smells like those things, but way stronger.”

“Interesting,” He murmured, taking a sip of his beer. “I worked at Staples one summer when I was in high school. I hated those markers.” He said flatly, though the corner of his mouth curled up slightly. “The banana ones made me gag.”

She smiled. “Bubblegum was the worst for me.”

Ben twisted his body around towards hers, and set his elbow against the bar and put his head in his hand. She caught a glimpse of his arm under the fabric and twisted herself to mirror him.  “So you caught a whiff while we were in there?”

A shiver went down her back. “It was all over Holdo.”

“And it put you over the edge?”

She clicked her tongue against her palate. “I’ve been under for tonsils, three pairs of ear tubes, twice for endometriosis, and twice for…” She waved a hand. You know. “I never had trouble with needles, and I was always cooperative with surgeries. I never cried or lashed out, even when they thought I was going to die on the table. I didn’t even use the gas for the last three, they switched to propofol** when I was fourteen.” Her hands suddenly felt cold. She opened them and clenched her fists, remembering the feeling of gripping the cold metal bars of the bed. The beeping monitor. The sea-green mask. She drew in a shaky breath. Already, she could feel tears beginning to form. “I shouldn’t be getting triggered by it. Especially not now.” She looked to him, expecting him to look at her with sadness, like she was still a sick kid.

Ben said nothing for awhile, then sighed and straightened himself up. “You know you shouldn’t beat yourself up over that. You went through trauma, it took its toll even if you didn’t know, and then you went back to work into the same hospital and the same OR. It sounds like you just had a shock to your system. These things happen.”

She understood this to be true on some level. And to hear him say it like that, without pity…it was a relief. And yet her mind could only go back to the worst place. “We’ll have to keep going back in, and we all have a week in anaesthesiology. I don’t want to advertise this, but if I freeze or pass out every time I go in there, I’ll fail the placement.”

His eyes bore into hers. “You won’t fail. And you don’t need to tell anyone anything if you don’t want to.”

Rey averted her gaze, feeling her face grow hot. Then, she blinked, and felt a wetness in her eye. Fuck. She turned quickly and wiped it away, hoping he wouldn’t see.

Ben just let out a long sigh, then stood up from the chair and dusted off his jacket. “I’ll see you at nine. If you start to panic or feel faint, try counting to five when you breathe in and out. And if you need to step outside for any reason, just go. If anyone asks, I’ll cover for you.”

She shivered, then stood and looked at him. “Really?”

He gave her a look, like he was surprised that she would even have to ask. “Of course,” He said, putting his hands in his pockets.

She bit her lip and nodded. “Thank you,” She whispered shakily, wiping the bottom of her eyelid. Then, her eyes fell to the pockets of his jacket. He’d just put his hands inside.

“Are you going home?” She asked, feeling another round of tears prick at her eyes.

“Yeah,” He said. And, unexpectedly, he reached around her with one arm and brought her in for a hug. “You’re doing really well. Just don’t be so hard on yourself.”

She let herself fall into it, her head only coming up to his collarbone, and closed her eyes. She counted to five. And the other hand slowly wrapped around her, making her skin tingle. Heart pounding, she lifted her head and looked up into his eyes one more time. They looked…kind. It crossed her mind then, if only for a moment, that maybe she’d been wrong about him. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

His face relaxed, his mouth parted slightly. And then, without thinking, she lifted her chin, stood on her toes, and kissed him.

It was a quick kiss. Her lips brushed against his, a momentary, solid connection. But it was impulsive. A huge mistake. When she pulled back, his brow furrowed. She’d broken through something, shattered that layer of glass between them. He looked more than surprised…he looked like he was shocked. Oh God, it was a mistake, wasn’t it? He must be with someone why did she do that what was she thinking?

“I—“ She stuttered, lowering her heels and shaking her head.

He pulled his arms away from her and took a step back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Rey lowered her own arms and nodded, then watched as he put his hands back in his pockets, then turned around and hurried to the door. She stood motionless as he opened the door, paused, and then stepped out into the night.

A harsh wave of nausea came over her. She shouldn’t have done that, why did she do that? She needed to get out of there. But as she turned back to where the rest of the group D students were mingling and laughing, her eyes fell to Jess…who was looking right at her.

Suddenly, the room began to feel very small. Rey, open-mouthed, shook her head and turned away, then went to get her purse and jacket. She couldn’t be here anymore. So, without going to speak to anyone in person, she sent a text to the group chat, and Finn and Rose, that she wasn’t feeling well and would see them in the hospital on Friday.

She could have sworn she heard Jess call her name as she exited the bar, but she didn’t care. She just needed to get out. She needed to get back to her empty apartment. She needed to be alone.

Rey’s fantabulous list of medical school terms

*Sevoflurane: an inhaled anaesthetic, used to induce and maintain a state of anaesthesia (in colloquial terms: it’s the gas that they use to put people under and keep them there). Exact mechanism of action is unknown, but it is a potent sedative that lowers one’s heart rate, breathing, and cerebral function and demand. Often described as having a sweet ‘ether-lie’ odour. Commonly used for induction of paediatric patients.

Other inhaled anaesthetics include: desflurane, isoflurane, enflurane, halothane, methoxyflurane, and nitrous oxide

Note: it is not what reduces pain perception. Patients undergoing general anaesthetic are also given opioids, anti-emetics, and muscle relaxants if needed

**Propofol: rapid-onset IV anaesthesia induction agent used primarily for adult surgical patients (provided as an option starting at age 10 or so, depending on the doctor)

Rey’s reference list of medical specialties pt 2

*(Please note that the information is based largely on classroom experience and medical dramas)

General Surgery

-anyone who’s watched Grey’s Anatomy know what this entails. General surgeons tend to specialise in any form of surgery below the neck, and there are numerous subspecialties.

Rating: 5/10. Not interested in pursuing it, and their residency schedule seems terrifying. But some of the anatomy is cool.

ENT (Ears, Nose, Throat/Otolaryngology)

-surgery, except it’s only for things above the chest.

-general surgery, except the operations are half as long and sometimes you get to sit down for them

Rating: 5/10. Meh. Rating is subject to change, as I have not yet undergone the corresponding placement.

Anaesthesiology

-you put people to sleep before surgeries and wake them up after. Other odd jobs include: giving epidurals, giving pain meds, inserting central and peripheral lines, and supervising the ICU.

-Pro as cited by Jannah Calrissian: you actually get a life, and you can even sit down from time to time. Con: it’s probably hard to pass the time during surgeries. (I caught a glimpse of Holdo’s phone at one point. She was playing Candy Crush level 13754. Did not know that was humanly possible)

Rating: -1/10. (Nope. Nope. Absolutely not.)

Chapter Text

On Friday morning, a few minutes before nine, Rey and Ben met each other at the door to the OR, both wearing their surgical scrubs, caps, and masks.

“Hey,” said Ben evenly, looking at her directly in the eye.

Rey was a little startled with his plainness. Hi. I really hope you didn’t read into what I did last night. I royally fucked up. I still don’t like you, you know my deep dark secrets without my consent—and now I have kissed you without your consent—and I wish more than anything that we had never met.

But a small “Hi,” was all she could muster.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then she turned on one foot and marched into the OR.

Rey didn’t speak to him while she scrubbed in, though she did feel his presence behind her as she did it, like pins and needles in the back of her neck. When she finished the washing, she turned to put on her scrub gown. But just as she went to put on her gloves, she tensed, realising that he was behind her, fastening the gown at her neck.

“Thank you,” She murmured, snapping the latex into place.

“No problem,” said Ben, just as he finished tying the strings at her side. And before she could respond, he walked away to his little corner, leaving her to step into the room and do this thing all over again.

The doctors and scrub nurse greeted her warmly, then pointed to the spot where she’d go. She shuffled awkwardly in there, mindful of her hands, and then took her place next to Phasma, placing her hands on this person’s leg.

A thought crossed her mind, that she hadn’t learned this person’s name. But she chased it away with a quick shake of her head, and the self-assurance that it wasn’t important, all that mattered was that they were being taken care of.

Phasma looked at her. “Did you eat breakfast?”

Rey nodded to herself, eyes fixed on the patch of skin in front of her.

“Drink enough water?”

“Yep.”

“Are you ready for this?”

Rey took a moment, and focused her breathing. She glanced at Ben, quickly counted to five, met Phasma’s eyes, and then Dr. Sloane’s. “I’m ready.” She said, mustering up as much confidence as she could.

“Okay,” said Sloane. “Then hold onto the gauze and the suction. Your job today will be to keep things dry.”

Rey found that she actually enjoyed doing an open hernia repair more than the the lap. In fact, she was far more comfortable being in the OR today. Maybe Ben had been right, and it had just been a shock to her system the other day. As long as she didn’t focus on the beeping or the smells, she found it easy to just exist in that space, humming along to the background music and working with her hands. The near-constant streams of blood didn’t bother her, though at one point she started overdoing it on the suction enough for Sloane to tell her to stop. The sight of subcutaneous tissue barely fazed her, because half her brain was just in awe of seeing these things that had only ever been shown to her in textbooks or pieces of corpses.

Skin. Camper’s fascia. Scarpa’s fascia. External oblique. Each layer was bright pink, bloody, and largely indistinguishable from the next. Once they revealed the internal oblique muscle, Sloane found the ilioinguinal nerve and spermatic cord, then had Rey hold them in a sling while the pros quickly repaired the defect and set down the mesh. They gave her a break towards the end and let her touch the dissected omental bits. All she could think was wow, it’s so squishy.

Sloane left her and Phasma to close up the final two layers of fascia and skin while she exited to meet the patient coming in for the next surgery. Rey barely did anything for the closure, but Phasma did give her a shot at the last two stitches.

When Rey finished her handiwork, Phasma nodded a little to herself. “Not bad, Johnson.” She said, putting on the final layer of gauze. “Make sure to keep it tighter next time though. And don’t cut so deep, it leaves more of a scar.”

Rey took the critique with as much grace as she could muster, and turned to take off her gown and gloves. It took a couple of tries—she had to untie the string at her side first—and her hands shook the whole time. After stuffing it in the trash, she took a step back and drew in deep breaths, counting to five while the porters moved the patient away. Then, she sighed and took hold of her hem, still conscious of the temperature and the beads of sweat running down her back.

Wait, she was still sweating?

Suddenly horrified, she looked down to see large wet patches of her mint-green top nearly three shades darker from the sweat. One thick line under her breasts, one for each armpit. She looked like she’d just run a goddamned marathon. She whirled, hoping to see if anyone was paying attention, and luckily no one seemed to be paying her any mind. Then, she saw Ben meet her eyes and tensed. She whirled away from him, mortified, and sprinted out of the OR and into the change room, returning a few minutes later out of breath and with a fresh top.

Ben was washing his hands when she returned. He glanced at her as she came in, holding up his uncomfortable large arms, covered finger to elbow in a thick layer of soap. “Hey,” He said, a little surprised.

“Hey,” She said. Her eyes fell to the half of his bicep showing from under his top. The muscles in his arm were tense. She blinked, then awkwardly walked past him and into the corner of the room.

One of the nurses helped him get into the actual scrubs, and for the next hour he helped the team do another hernia repair, nearly identical in form to her own. Meanwhile, she just sat back, watched, and listened.

She had to admit that there was an appeal to being here, even if she wasn’t qualified to do anything. Being in the OR, watching, and participating in surgeries was her chance to be the woman behind the curtain. None of them were using their performative bedside voice; the one that they used to tell people bad news with the carefully chosen words and near-imperceptible lilt in their tone. I understand that you’ve been experiencing some pain? So we found a mass on your X-ray.  We need to run these tests. This is going to be a perfectly safe procedure, we just need to go over a few potential problems that may arise before your mother signs the consent form. She could hear real things from the doctors and nurses; in the course of a day, they would talk about the case, quiz the students, but also discuss things going on in their personal lives. Phasma had been seeing one of the urology residents over the past few weeks (but it probably wouldn’t last; they were applying to a fellowship in Baltimore). Sloane was leaving early today to pick up her son from soccer practice. The anaesthesiologist—not Holdo, thankfully—barely spoke, but seemed to be drawing something on an iPad. Every few minutes, she would get up, press some buttons on the ventilator and administer small doses of morphine. 

Everything ran like a well-oiled machine, and the more time she spent watching it, the more her fear and discomfort eased. She was okay. She wasn’t the one on the table anymore. She had actual agency in this room, for once in her life.

Of course, thinking about that then made it all the more difficult to actually look at the table, fully cognisant that there was an unconscious person under there, kept alive only by the tube in their throat. Sometimes, when one of them would lean their elbow on their chest, she found herself wondering how many times they’d done that to her. How many times they’d forgotten that they were still operating on a person. But maybe that was something that surgeons did. Maybe they have to let go of that fact for a few hours at a time to be able to do their jobs as well as they did.

When the surgery ended and Ben got out of his scrubs, Phasma told the two of them to go take a history, then return at noon for a hemicolectomy. They did so quickly, only exchanging a few curt words here and there to each other.

When they finished and started back towards the land of anaesthesia and bloody scalpels, she heard Ben say something.

“Are you feeling okay?”

She looked at him, startled. “What?”

“You seem off, are you okay?”

Rey blinked, then turned her gaze back to the white linoleum floors and the colourful footprints. She knew, then, that she wasn’t ready to talk to him about what she’d done. She couldn’t have these kinds of conversations with people, least of all Ben Solo, while her brain was still in school mode. “I’m fine, I’ll talk to you later.”

***

She couldn’t bring herself to talk to Ben at all that morning, and he wound up taking the history while she performed the most questionable abdominal exam of her life. As soon as they broke for lunch, she went off alone to the main cafeteria and got a cheap slice of cheese pizza and a coke to satiate her growling stomach. They’d spent three hours in the OR and running around the ward, and while in hindsight it had felt more like three minutes, her stomach clearly thought that it hadn’t received sustenance in the past three days.

For twenty minutes, she sat there munching away at the rubbery cheese and mentally rehearsing something she could say to Ben about the kiss. But each time, she would find a reason to chastise herself for even making the mental effort. 

Maybe he was on his way to file a formal complaint to the Dean about her sexual harassment. He’d have every right to. One girl in first year had wound up putting a restraining order on a guy from her PBL group. He’d actually been stalking her for months, but she was only able to file the formal claim after he tried to grope her during clinicals, in full sight of their professor.

Or maybe, she was being melodramatic and he didn’t actually care. Ben was an attractive guy, and they had been at a bar during a get-together. Girls and guys probably flirted with him all the time while he was out, and maybe sometimes one of them tried to steal a kiss. He could have just chalked it up to one of her many mistakes. After all, he hadn’t reciprocated.

Had he?

She was so frazzled from the past eighteen hours that she was honestly starting to doubt her own sanity.

After the last surgery, and their short presentation to Phasma, she let them go for the day. The moment they got back into their regular scrubs and left the OR, Rey grabbed the hem of Ben’s sleeve and whispered through gritted teeth that she wanted to talk to him privately. He followed a few steps behind as she walked through the winding corridors connecting the OR to the surgery ward, stopping to check for any empty rooms. The equipment rooms were all passcode-locked, and the tutorial room was occupied by a couple of consultants, both of whom gave her a dirty look the moment she opened the door. Finally, when she was about to give up, she opened the door to the on-call room. There were no windows and the lights were off, leaving the room cast in dark shadows. But luckily, other than two bunk beds, it was completely empty.

“Is this where you wanted to chat?” He asked from over her shoulder.

Before Rey could reply or offer to find literally any other room, he shuffled past her and walked to the middle of the room. So, she let out a sigh and turned to close it. The door wouldn’t lock, so she stood with her back to it, partly to block the way, and partly to give herself an out if it came to it. Ben was across from her, standing straight with his hands stuffed casually in his pockets.

He puffed his cheeks, then blew out some air and glanced at the beds beside them. “What exactly do you want to talk to me about in the on call room?”

Rey, seeing what he was seeing, scoffed and crossed her arms. “The other options weren’t available, as you could tell.” Then, she scanned the room. It was unlikely that anyone would come in here while it was still light outside. “And I don’t want anyone to walk in on us. No one will interrupt us here.” Well, hopefully no one would bother them. As long as they kept the lights off.

“Private conversations in the on-call room. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve been watching a bit too much Grey’s Anatomy,” he murmured. Then, he turned in a circle, scanning the little room. “But you’re probably right.”

“I never watched that show,” She admitted. Then, she cleared her throat. “I want to apologise for last night.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you apologising for?”

Rey gave him a look. Was he playing dumb? “I’m sorry I—“ She gestured to her lips, then waved to him. “You know.”

“That you kissed me? It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” She crossed her arms, feeling her face grow hot. “It was really stupid, and I don’t want it to affect this thing we have going on here.”

“This ‘thing,’ as in you barely tolerating my presence? I wasn’t under the impression that it had affected that at all.” He paused, then laughed silently. “Then is that why you’ve been acting weird around me today?”

Rey nodded, but couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. “I was just waiting for some privacy to clear the air between us, start over—“

“I think this is the third or fourth time we’ve tried to start over.”

“—You probably have a girlfriend or something. I just wanted to thank you for the other day in surgery I don’t want you to think I have feelings or anything because I don’t—“

“I don’t…have a girlfriend.” He said, tilting his head. “What makes you think I do?”

Rey shifted uncomfortably, allowing the light from the hall to reach his face. He really did look handsome—objectively speaking. And it made her heart race, to stand there while he was regarding her with that quizzical expression, like she was an utterly fascinating test subject. A mouse darting around in an enclosed labyrinth. There was something about the way that his dimples showed, or the way that the stray strands of his wavy black hair framed his eyes and long nose. Maybe she’d just found him attractive. He was plenty attractive.

No, nope, focus, Rey.

“I thought…” Then she stopped herself, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “Didn’t you go home with Kira at med ball?”

He stared at her for a moment, then snorted. “You really think—you know how many people go home with people during med ball, right?”

Rey rolled her eyes. “Yes I know.” A good chunk of the class got sick from med ball, and five had gotten chlamydia at one of the afterparties.

“Kira lived next door to me last year, and I bumped into her on my way out. She was alone, so we shared a cab.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She opened her mouth, then closed it again.

“So no, I’m not dating anyone.”

“Oh,” She said in a small voice. “Okay.”

“And I assume you’re not dating Jessika anymore. You didn’t seem too happy to see her at orientation.”

She stiffened at the mention. “We broke up last year.”

“So what exactly is the issue here?”

Rey blinked, then realised he had taken a step towards her. Was he just trying to get out of the room? “I just wanted to tell you that it won’t happen again…” Her voice trailed off as she stepped back, blindly reaching for the knob with her right hand. “Okay?”

He came a little closer. “That’s fine, if you want. But since you brought me into the on-call room just to apologise for kissing me, I believe I’m entitled to ask you a question of my own.”

She swallowed hard, finally finding the doorknob. “And what might that be?”

He stepped closer again, his face now half-obscured by the shadows. When he spoke, his voice was low and gruff. “Why did you kiss me?”

She tensed, then slowly removed her hand from the knob. “I was drunk.” And emotional. Impulsive. Idiotic. Expressing her gratitude in a completely misplaced manner.

“No,” He replied, meeting her eyes. “I saw you come into the bar. Maybe you were tipsy, but you certainly weren’t drunk. Why did you kiss me?”

She blinked, then looked down. “I—I—“

The shadows lifted, and his gaze was burning. “I think you know why. You can say it.”

“I don’t know, actually.” She swallowed, then lifted her chin. “Why do you think I kissed you?” He was getting closer now, and it was making the hairs of her skin stand on end.

His voice dropped dangerously low. “I think—“ He said, brushing his fingers against hers. “—You kissed me because you wanted to.”

She looked at his hands, then met his hard gaze. “You’re that sure?”

He nodded, the corner of his mouth curving upward. “And I think you want to do it again.” He moved his hand up, tracing along the forearm slowly, tenderly.

Rey let out a small shiver, and let herself move a little closer to his lips. “You—you never told me what you thought of the kiss.” She whispered.

He raised an eyebrow. “I quite liked it.” His breath was warm. His hand crept back just a few millimetres.

Her heart skipped a beat. She tensed, looked down, and looked back up to his large brown eyes. “So what do you want to do about it?”

They gazed at each other for the briefest of moments, and then, in one fluid motion, he cupped her cheeks, leaned in and kissed her.

Rey closed her eyes and kissed him back, melting into him, wrapping her arms around his body while he did the same to her. Their lips parted briefly, and they kissed again, deeper, hungrier, their tongues meeting in the middle again and again.

Ben pulled away first, breathing heavily, both of them shivering from the shock of the moment. Then, wordlessly, they exchanged nods and went back in. He kissed her lips, his hand slithering up the back of her neck, taking hold of her hair. She took a breath, and his lips found her cheek, her neck, and the top of her collarbone. A mix of ecstasy and adrenaline filled her, and when she heard him let out a small growl, she sighed and closed her eyes.

“Fuck,” He breathed against her skin. “Rey…”

“Oh God,” She murmured, tilting her head back. Her arms tightened around his shoulders, and she raised his head and kissed him on the lips again. “Fuck—Ben—“ She blinked suddenly, seeing his eyes flutter open and closed. “Fu—No, we shouldn’t—this is—“

Ben’s eyes widened. He paused, his grip relaxed on her, and then he stepped back, collecting himself. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

He sighed. “Yeah…yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Look,” She murmured, looking down guiltily. “I’ll admit that maybe…I was wrong about you. You’re not a total asshole. You’re really good with patients, and you’ve helped me a lot this past week. So thank you for all of that. But that doesn’t mean that anything’s going on between us.” 

When she met his eyes again, his expression had hardened.

“You don’t have to say I’m not an asshole. I am. And I understand.” He said. Then, he pushed past her and moved to open the door.

“Ben, listen, I—“ Rey said.

He paused, having only opened the door by a few centimetres. “What is it?” He said, not turning all the way towards her.

She stammered something, then cleared her throat. “I know you probably hate me even more now. But I really am sorry.”

He closed the door and looked at her, confused. “Why would you say that?”

“I’ve said some pretty awful things to you.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, and looked to be counting to three. Then, he opened them and locked his gaze onto hers. “Rey…Teodora.”

She bristled, hearing her birth name roll off his tongue like that.

“You are an unbelievably self-possessed, hostile, competitive human being, and you have been an absolutely unbearable asshole to me since medical school began.” Though she detected a subtle undercurrent of anger in his voice, every word came out crisp and controlled. “You drive me absolutely crazy, and it is honestly difficult to be in the same room as you.”

Her eyes fell to the floor.

“But I don’t hate you.” He murmured.

She lifted her gaze, startled by his statement. She was readying herself to respond, when suddenly he recoiled, nearly tripping into her. The door was yanked open, revealing a resident at the entrance.

“What are you two doing in here?”

Rey blinked, her eyes readjusting to the light. She knew this guy, barely taller than her, with short, straight red hair, freckles, visible purple bags under his eyes, and a large scar over his broad nose. Cal Kestis, former Chandrila student and current second-year Orthopaedics resident. He probably didn’t know their names, even if their ranks as third years were obvious from their silver name tags.

“You guys know that med students aren’t allowed in the on-call room. Especially not—“ He gestured between the two of them.

“Nothing happened,” Rey squeaked out, scurrying past him.

He just yawned and looked at Ben. “Which bed were you two on, I don’t want to lie in anything.”

Ben looked at Rey, then looked at Cal, a little disgusted. “It’s just like she said. Nothing happened.” He gestured into the room. “They’re all yours buddy.”

As soon as Cal shut the door behind him, Rey and Ben walked briskly out of the ward side by side. Her entire body felt like it was on fire, and she was sure that her face must have been bright red.

They rode the elevator to the main floor in silence, then walked to the student room to grab their things. She only dared to look at him after she grabbed her bags and closed her locker.

“I’ll umm…I’ll see you on Monday?”

“Yeah,” said Ben quietly. “See you Monday.”

***

Rey couldn’t bring herself to study all afternoon, and that actually made her angry at Ben all over again. That stupid asshole had kissed her, and now it was all she could think about. And thus, she couldn’t study and prepare herself for next Monday.

Ben Solo had kissed her. And she’d liked it.

She groaned, lay back into her pillows, and stared up at the white dimpled ceiling. For a little while, she tried to count the dark indents, like they were black stars against a starry sky. When that didn't help her clear her mind, she let out a breath and closed her eyes, fingers creeping to her lips. Why did she do that? Not just at Digan’s, but in the on-call room. So what do you want to do about it? It had been a taunt, a dare. A request. Some sick, twisted part of her had actually wanted to be kissed by Ben Solo.

What was wrong with her?!

Had it just been an expression of her gratitude? She’d told him about her issue with the anaesthetic. She’d told him about her wish to work with Dr. Luke Skywalker. He’d offered her advice on both fronts, in his own way. So fine, maybe he wasn’t a bad guy. Perhaps he really just had his own thing going on (even if his career path would interfere with hers in fourth year). He’d certainly kept his word about her medical history, at least as far as she could tell. Hell, maybe he’d even forgotten about most of it. She knew that she’d never actually asked him to sit down and lay out exactly what he remembered about Teodora Mirkovic-Johnson of the Coruscant Paediatric Oncology ward.

But she’d also told him about her surgeries, and how much the smells still bothered her. Unprompted. That was something that she had never even shared with her two best friends. Not even when Rose had bought her a bottle of strawberry scented lip gloss for her nineteenth birthday.

She'd been drawn to him, like undersea prey is drawn to an angler fish's lantern.

She loathed that part of her that had evidently been all too eager to make herself totally vulnerable. To be vulnerable here and now, when she was so close to making it, was a critical error.

Unable to contain her frustration any longer, she grabbed a pillow and screamed into it, then lowered it slowly and looked back up to the ceiling. Something was beeping in the distance. Perhaps it was just another siren, taking some poor sucker to one of the city hospitals.

Rey shut her eyes, remembering his burning gaze. His dark, piercing eyes, the strands of dark hair brushing against her cheeks. His long nose pressing against hers. His large, soft lips against hers.

The low growl that had escaped from the back of his throat.

She’d kissed Ben Solo. Twice. And she’d liked it.

Her hand drifted down, until it reached the spot between her thighs. She’d liked it. And though she would never ever allow him to know that she’d wanted to go further, she could indulge in that fact when she was alone. She could even live in the fantasy in the back of her mind; the one where they'd kept going in the on call room.

Just for a moment.

Chapter Text

“Pizza’s here!”

Rey and Rose, who were huddling together under a blanket on the green cloth couch let out a chorus of whoops as Finn entered the room holding a large box and a bag full of assorted treats.

“Whoo, this is hot,” He said, setting it down gingerly on the table.

Rey threw off the blanket the moment the box made contact, reached forward and jumped right in. Warm cheesy pizza, with a thick doughy crust paired with a good strong coke and garlic dip. Oh, oh it was heaven. She didn’t even wait for the others before she grabbed two pieces for herself.

“Oh yeah,” She murmured between bites, closing her eyes and savouring the flavour. “That hits the spot.” But just as she was about to return to her spot, Finn intercepted her, grabbed a few pieces of his own, and took a seat next to Rose.

Rey narrowed her eyes, but both of them seemed oblivious to what was going on. So, with a shrug, she picked up a can and container of dip and went to sit at the other corner. It was fine. There was no other blanket, but they didn’t seem to be using it, and it seemed like the heat emanating from the pizza would suffice.

She stretched out her legs, wiggling her toes under the slippers. Okay, leg room was a bonus. And their couch was way softer than the one at her place. Bigger, too, enough for all four of the housemates. Tam and Kazuda were out getting their on-call shifts out of the way early, allowing the trio to enjoy the space themselves.

Finn coughed and cracked open his can. “Okay, so like, is the surgery part actually as gross as you thought it would be?”

Rey shook her head and swallowed a large bite. “It’s actually not that bad. There’s a bit of blood and guts, but you get so into it in the moment that you don’t really think about what you’re doing until it’s over.”

“What about the smells?” Asked Rose. “I’ve heard it can get really nasty.”

Rey pointed to her and nodded. “The smells are…not great. I still need time to get used to them.”

Rose nodded. “Has anyone fainted yet? Paige said someone always faints on the first day.”

Rey blinked, then pursed her lips tight. “Nope.” She squeaked, feeling her pulse quicken and her face grow hot. “Not that I know of.”

“Hmm,” Rose replied. Then she narrowed her eyes. “Fair enough. I’m just nervous, like I don’t want to be the first one to crack, you know? My resident made me take blood from this kid yesterday, she was like twelve or something—took me three tries. I couldn’t stop shaking, I got all light-headed at one point, and I think she was ready to stab me by the end of it.”

“The resident?” Rey asked.

“No, the kid.”

Finn chuckled and took a bite. “You think that was bad, my nurse ended up taking over my IV because I couldn’t get it into the kid’s arm. She tried both hands and then had to go through his foot. Must’ve hurt like a bitch.”

Rey winced to herself, feeling a tingle at the back of her hand.

She took another bite of the pizza. “I still haven’t taken any blood,” She said quietly. “Phasma said we can practice with the phlebotomists before rounds on Wednesdays. I might do it next week.”

“Definitely a good call,” Rose said. “You think they’ll let us join you?”

“Probably,” Rey said with a shrug. “I can ask them on Monday.”

“Awesome,” said Rose.

Rey returned to her food, eyeing her friend as she pulled out her phone and began texting someone. She heard the ding of a notification, then watched as Rose grinned widely and sent a response.

Finn leaned over to get a better view of the screen.

“Hey!” Rose pulled her phone into her chest. “Give a girl some privacy!”

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “You used my one good shower towel this morning, you forfeit the right to privacy.”

Rey smiled. “Who’re you texting?” She asked, though the pizza in her mouth made the words come out a little muffled.

Rose glanced between them, then gave Finn a mischievous grin and playfully hit his shoulder with her phone. “I am having someone over this week.”

He blinked, a little taken aback. “Who?”

“A fourth year,” She said, looking back at her phone. “You don’t know ‘em.” She said in a sing-song voice.

“I might,” Finn said defensively. “What’s their name?”

“Hugh,” Rose said casually, sending another text. Then, she smiled to herself and put her phone away. “He’s a real gentleman. He gave me his number the other night at the club. And he offered to take me out to a movie first.”

“Oh,” said Finn, clearing his throat. “Then…I hope you guys have fun.”

“Oh, we will,” Rose grinned up at him, breaking contact only to give Rey a quick wink.

Rey smiled and took a sip of her drink, watching the pair intently.

“Just don’t be too loud or anything,” He said, shifting his position on the couch and dodging her gaze. “These walls are made of paper, and I need my beauty sleep.”

Rose scoffed dramatically. “Shut up, you sleep for five hours a night and go to the gym before rounds. You’re just jealous that I’m gonna screw a fourth year before you.”

Finn crossed his arms. “I’m not—“ He grimaced and shook his head. “I’m not jealous. I hope you have fun.”

The silence between them lasted barely more than an instant, but even Rey could feel the awkwardness. She clicked her tongue in her mouth and dipped her crust into the dip. “Well, I’m celebrating. To the end of your dry spell!” She raised the container high for good measure.

Rose laughed and threw up her can in response. “Here here!”

Finn nodded, but didn’t seem quite as amused.

Rey laughed with Rey and lowered her container back down for another bit of dip, when she saw a white stain on the edge of the couch and went rigid. In a fluid motion, she took a napkin and wiped the dip off, but a long white streak remained. She sucked in a breath and pointed to the mark. “I just stained your couch. Is that gonna be a problem?”

Finn and Rose shook their heads.

“This thing’s been covered in stains since we moved in. I still think the last guy bought it off Kijiji from a serial killer.” Finn said nonchalantly, leaning back into the corner cushion and spreading his arms wide.

Rose shrugged, but barely reacted when his hand came up behind her head. She paused for an instant, then looked to Rey. Her head tilted, millimetres, in Finn’s direction. “Yeah, and it already smells like a dead body. The garlic might actually improve it.”

Finn chuckled and patted the cushion with his free hand. “A dead body and semen. I don’t even want to know how many people have had sex on this thing.”

Rose snorted. Finn seemed to take that as an invitation, so he patted her shoulder with his hand. “Or how many of them got caught in the act. “ He immediately followed up the zinger with the dumbest smile, one that immediately signalled that this was an inside joke between them.

Rose turned to him and snickered. “I still can’t get over that, like what kind of idiots would do that?!”

Finn threw his head back and laughed loudly. “I know, like people nap in there!”

Rey blinked. “Wait, what are you guys talking about?”

Rose stifled a giggle. “You don’t know? Oh my God Rey, it’s wild. One of the residents caught two students hooking up in the on-call room yesterday.”

Dread began to fill her stomach. Oh God, they already know.

Finn chuckled and looked at Rose. “Apparently they were in bed in the middle of the day, pants off and everything.”

Abort. Abort.

“I heard he was already inside her.”

“That’s not what happened!” The words tumbled out before she could stop herself

Finn gave her a look. “What do you mean? You saw them?”

Rey, realising her misstep, tried to play it off. “No, I didn’t—I mean—where did this—who was it? That got caught?“

Then Rose looked at her and raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “In the paeds on-call room.” She said slowly. “They were fourth years.”

“Oh,” said Rey stupidly, avoiding her friends’ gazes. “That’s—that’s nuts.”

When she looked back to Rose, she could see her crossing her arms. “What did you do?”

Rey felt her cheeks grow very warm. “Nothing.” Instinctively, she started twirling a loose strand of hair by her ears.

Rose clapped her hands excitedly. “Something happened, didn’t it?! You have to spill, come on, what kind of juicy drama is going on in surgery? Did someone piss off an attending, or hook up with a resident? Come on, you have to tell us!”

Rey’s heart began pounding. She looked to Rose, then to Finn. Both were staring at her intently, excitedly. They were two of a kind in this way, always looking for a good story to share, some good gossip, and they were ready to wring it out of her if need be. If she denied it, she would risk extending the conversation for hours and getting alcohol involved. Then they would find out anyway.

“I...” Her eyes fell to the floor in embarrassment. No turning back. “I might have kissed…Ben Solo. Once or twice.”

Finn, who had just taken a sip of his coke, nearly choked on it. “You did what now?”

Rose leaned in, her mouth agape. “And how many times?”

Rey swallowed, then pursed her lips. “Twice, actually.” When she said those two words, her voice came out as more of a squeak. “First in the bar on Thursday—”

“Oh yeah, Jess told me you two left early!” Rose clapped her hands giddily. “Was it good? Did you go home together?”

“It wasn’t a real kiss. It was like…whatever. We didn’t go anywhere, I just didn’t want to stay.” She murmured, pushing the strand of hair behind her ear. Just an impulsive peck that made her entire body shiver at the mere memory.

“Then what was the second time?” Asked Finn.

Rey cleared her throat and began scratching the back of her neck. “We sort of—erm—made out a little. Yesterday. In the surgical on-call room.” She looked up to see the two of them, petrified, eyes wider than she’d ever seen. “He kissed me that time. We didn’t do anything else, but—agh—“ She knew that she should have kept her mouth shut, but, well, they were her best friends. So, with a sigh, she threw her arms up and lay back into the couch cushions, wishing desperately for them to swallow her whole.

The room fell deadly silent for a moment. Then another. To Rey, it felt like an eternity, waiting for one of them to respond.

Finally, Rose blinked, turned to face Finn, and said completely evenly: “You owe me ten bucks.”

“WHAT?!”

Finn met Rey’s eyes, chuckled nervously, and pointed to Rose. “She’s kidding.”

Rey glared at Rose, who glared back at first, then, clearly unable to take it anymore, burst into laughter.

Rey threw a pillow at her. ”It’s not funny!”

“Ow!” Rose yelled as the pillow hit her shoulder. “It’s pretty funny.” Without skipping a beat, she threw the pillow back to Rey, who caught it and held it tight to her chest.

She gave Finn a accusatory look.

He shrugged. “It kind of is.” Then, he paused. “I’m a little confused though, how did this happen? I thought you two couldn’t stand each other.”

Rey groaned and fell back again into the cushions, lifting her gaze to the ceiling. “We got paired up for general surgery, and for a few days things were…I don’t know, improving?” Her mind wandered for an instant, to the OR. Him catching her, staying with her. Caring for her. She sighed and threw her hands up. “And I fucked it up.”

“Yeah, but there’s still a gap here. You two went from being our year’s mortal enemies to making out? What changed?”

Rey was about to open her mouth when Rose let out an exasperated sigh. “Finn, Finn, listen. Obviously they were lovers in a past life, and they’ve been harbouring some intense romantic desires since the moment they’ve met. They were simply in denial and expressed their passion through rage. So now, being paired up for the placement, they’ve found their golden opportunity to confess their feelings and finally make love.”

Rey groaned and tried to smother herself with one of the pillows. “Please shut up.”

“Ha, so you admit that you’re into him!” Finn broke in.

She ripped the pillow off her face. “Fine, I can admit he’s hot. But I don’t like him like that.”

Rose sighed, defeated. “So you spent two years bickering and obsessing over each other, and things finally boiled over.” Rey felt Rose’s foot nudge her own. “It happens, Rey. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Rey removed the pillow and looked to her friends. “Okay, but what do I do?”

Rose shrugged and inched closer to Finn, then took a sip of her pop and leaned her head into his shoulder. “Just talk to him about it. I have to assume you’re attracted to him on some level…as are most the girls in our year. Explain that your lady hormones got the better of you, and you don’t want to do it again.”

“But he kissed me too.”

“You’re a pretty girl, Rey,” said Finn. “It’s safe to say that most people would want to kiss you.”

Rose gave him a look. “‘Most people?’ Would you want to hook up with her?”

He glanced between them, then sighed. “Peanut, I love you, but I have tasted your cooking. So, hard pass from me.” Then, he looked back to Rose. “What about you, would you want to hook up with Ben?”

She glared at him, incredulous. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh come on, you just said he’s attractive. Even I’ve heard the rumours.”

Rey blinked. Her heart was pounding through her ears. “Rumours?”

“You know, that Ben Solo has an eight pack. That he is shre-dded.” He punctuated the last words with a suggestively raised eyebrow in Rose’s direction. “So, would you hit that?”

Rose nearly spit out her drink and gestured to Rey. “Absolutely not, I have already spent way too much time around those idiots. They’re actually crazy, like I know I told you about how he would keep asking about how you were doing and stuff, but I have so many more stories.”

“Like what?” Rey said, leaning forward like an overly engaged student.

Rose grinned slyly. “Oh, a lot. Like he’s a huge nepo baby, and that’s saying a lot for medical school. Poe said he spent his entire undergrad hanging around paeds onc in Coruscant, and like even now everyone there knows him by name. I think his dad or something was a head—“

“—No, he said his dad used to be a military pilot.” Rey interjected nervously. “He mentioned it to a patient.”

“Ah, right, yeah.” Rose snapped her fingers. “Then it was definitely his uncle. Apparently he was head of paeds onc for years, and Ben was his little research assistant.” Then, she blinked, and looked to Rey. "Wait, was his uncle there when you were--"

Rey suddenly felt her entire body go numb. "I don't remember," She somehow squeaked out.

“Alright, well apparently Ben was going to start at UofT right out of undergrad, but then he just packed up one day and ditched them to do research in the US. Didn’t surface for years, and then he came back and applied to Chandrila. Never told anyone why, and doesn’t talk about his family to this day. I bet some crazy shit happened between them. Like why else would he turn down UofT med school for America?”

She couldn’t even find it in her brain to tell her about his PhD. Because things were beginning to click. Dr. Skywalker was head of paediatric oncology at Coruscant. Ben was working there. He was his nephew. His nephew. Fucking Christ.

She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it and began blinking rapidly. “Cool.” She said. “That’s…wow. Okay.”

Finn snorted. “That’s the best you’ve got? Half our classmates have close relatives in the field. Kaz’s dad is head of neurosurgery at UBC.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Oh I have more, trust me. I once saw Ben eat a whole rotisserie chicken while wearing nothing but a McGill hoodie and grey boxers. Right next to me. I think he might actually be insane.”

Rey cocked her head, but half her mind was already running away with the thought of Skywalker. His uncle. His fucking uncle.

Rose just shrugged good-naturedly. “But, like, if you decide you want to hit that, you have my full support. Just—“ She waved a hand. “Use a condom or whatever, you don’t know where he’s been.” Then, she nearly jumped out of her seat. “Actually, that reminds me!” Without another word, she pulled her phone back out and started texting again.

Rey straightened herself up. “Texting Hugh?”

“No, Poe, actually,” She said, typing at lightning speed. “I actually did make a bet with him a little bit before med ball.”

“What exactly was that?” Rey asked suspiciously.

“I bet them that you and Ben would hook up.” She grinned wide. “So looks like I’m getting my ten bucks after all.” 

She held up her hand for a high-five. Rey looked her dead in the eye, entirely unamused, and threw the pillow back into her face.

***

Rey spent a good bit of her Sunday debating whether she was going to text him and talk about things. Problem was, she couldn’t decide if it would be more appropriate to start with something like Hey, a little birdie told me you’re a Skywalker. Or, Hey let’s pretend that hot takeout didn’t happen and continue to live in denial. Or, perhaps something stronger like I still can’t stand you but I also kind of want you to rearrange my insides and my best friend gave me her blessing, so maybe we can make an arrangement? But, in the end she couldn’t decide which one to send.

Not like it mattered. He hadn’t even tried to contact her all weekend. Maybe he didn’t care, or maybe he just preferred to handle such matters in person.

The latter theory was proven somewhat correct when she was in the student room on Monday morning. Alone. Putting away her bags before rounds. She was just closing her locker when she heard the door open, then turned and froze on the spot.

Ben didn’t seem to notice her when he came in, but when he found her in the corner, he went right up to her, holding a tiny looking cup of Tim’s coffee in one hand, and a bag in the other.

“Hey,” She said nervously, feeling her cheeks grow hot as he reached her.

“Hey,” He replied slowly, looking her up and down. He swallowed hard, then held out his right hand. “They had a deal going on this morning. Double double and a chocolate donut. I didn’t want the donut.”

Rey felt her stomach growl just staring at the bag. She reached out and slowly took it from his hands, brushing her skin against his. Her gaze rose to meet his, but neither one of them could say a word.

Then, she stepped back, looked in to check for the donut, and cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He nodded, the corner of his mouth curving upwards ever so slightly. The sight made her breath briefly catch in her throat.

“So,” She murmured, biting into the donut to distract herself. “How was your weekend?”

“It was fine,” He said evenly, taking a sip of the coffee. “How was yours?”

“Uneventful,” She replied, taking another bite. “Did you get the email about doing the on-call shift?”

“I did,” said Ben. “When are you doing it?”

“Not sure yet, but maybe on a Thursday.”

He nodded. “Cool.”

She mirrored his nods, then took another small piece from the donut. “So, I feel like I should warn you. If you hear of any rumours about two people hooking up in an on-call room, you should know that said people are fourth years.”

He blinked. “What?”

Rey felt her cheeks go hot. “Yep.”

“Is this supposed to be code for something?”

She blinked. “What? No. I’m serious, apparently the on-call rooms are being used by students for hook-ups.”

He paused, then opened his mouth. “Oh,” He said. “I get it. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell anybody. And besides, nothing actually happened. Doubt it’ll happen again.”

She groaned. “Fine, whatever. I didn’t tell anyone either.”

He didn’t seem to register that, and instead looked down at his watch. “You might want to finish that fast. We have to meet Phasma for rounds in ten.” Then, he walked right past her to open up his locker.

Rey just stood watching for awhile, then crumpled up the bag in her hand and took a deep breath. “D’you want to grab lunch with me?”

***

The hospital cafeteria was bustling at noon with doctors, nurses, staff, and some very loud families. Rey and Ben sat across from each other at a small table in the corner of the room. Rey could only stare at her three dollar chicken salad sandwich while Ben sat across from her, tapping his foot and staring at his pizza.

“So…” She said, tapping a finger against the table. “Umm…I found something out this weekend.”

“What’s that?”

She pursed her lips. “I was talking to Rose, and she told me that Dr. Skywalker’s your uncle.”

He just stared at her for a minute, then sighed and took a bite of his pizza. “What exactly was the context of such a conversation?”

“It’s a long story.”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “How long of a story?”

“A bit too long.” Rey shrugged and picked up her sandwich. “But why didn’t you tell me sooner? Were you thinking I’d like…judge you?”

“Honestly? At first, I thought you knew. Then, I realised you didn’t, and I figured it would be awkward to bring it up.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” She murmured.

“That, and I was worried you’d try to use your feminine wiles to manipulate me into giving you his contact information.”

Rey couldn’t deny that, so she just looked back down to her sandwich.

He sighed. "It wouldn't have worked even if you'd tried it. I'm not big on using sex as a currency. Leads to nothing but trouble."

She felt herself go hot. She needed to keep the conversation on track. “Are you still talking to him? Or did something bad actually happen between you two?” For a moment, she recalled the time she’d accused him of doing something bad to Skywalker. The pained look he’d given her, and the sound of the door slamming shut.

“Ooh, I’m sorry, that backstory is reserved for level three friends only.”

Rey rolled her eyes. “Ben, you put your tongue down my throat, and I have to assume you’ve seen me bald and deathly ill. You really can’t fault me for asking a little about your personal life.”

“Those are not equivalent at all.”

She raised an eyebrow. “It’s not nothing.” 

He gave her a huff and returned to his pizza.

She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t look much like him.”

He finished chewing his pizza, then shrugged nonchalantly and sat back into his chair. “Yeah, I got my more handsome features from my dad’s side of the family.”

“You must’ve seen me when I was in chemo though, right? You know my name, but...I don’t remember you at all.”

Ben gave her a look, as if considering her words. For the briefest moment, a shadow passed over his face, accompanied by an expression that she couldn’t quite name. Some mix of surprise, sadness, regret, and frustration. Then, it passed almost as quickly as it came. He sighed. “I saw you around every now and then one spring and summer. You probably didn’t recognise me, Everyone was masking because of that measles outbreak, and I had a different haircut back then.” He motioned to a spot at the top of his ear. “A bit shorter than this, with frosted tips. Made my ears look huge.”

Rey smiled softly, imagining him with such a ridiculous look.

He just shrugged. “Plus I spent most of my working hours writing his papers.”

“Oh,” said Rey, a little disappointed. “Seriously though, do you have his email, though? Or his phone number?”

Ben’s strange look returned. “I do.” He said slowly. “Like I said before, he's not working here, so he's not going to help you with research or reference letters. But if you’re still desperate to talk to him, I can try to set something up. I'll tell him that one of my classmates wants to ask you about paediatric oncology."

She considered this for a moment. "You could tell him who I am. Maybe he'll, you know, remember me."

"No." He replied, a little too quickly.

Rey raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"I've seen him turn down a lot of emails from former patients and parents. He's not going to do it if he knows who you are."

That fact, and the certainty with which he delivered it, stung a little bit. She'd heard so many feel-good stories of people visiting their former doctors or nurses, or even working with them. Why wouldn't he do the same? He'd always been kind and encouraging to her. He once told her Kid, if I handed you a white coat now, you'd probably be able to do my job better than me.

"I'll figure it out though. Just be aware that he lives in Caledonia and takes forever to check his messages. You’ll have to be patient.”

Rey was a little dumbstruck. “That’s…that’s great. Thank you.”

Ben just gave a little grunt, dodging her gaze. “You don’t need to thank me for that.”

“I know. I wanted to.”

When he said nothing, she set her forearms on the table and began drumming her fingers against the cold surface. “I told Rose and Finn,” She murmured.

“What?”

“About…us, in the on-call room.”

He blinked. “Oh. Did you tell anyone else?”

She shook her head nervously.

He leaned forward, ever so slightly. “What exactly did you tell your friends?”

Rey swallowed back a lump in her throat. “Just that we kissed.”

Ben took the break in her sentence to set his large arms on the table. “Come on, there must’ve been a bit more to that conversation.”

Feeling her heartbeat quicken, she chose to dodge his burning gaze. “I think we just agreed that you and I have had our issues, and things just…boiled over.”

“Oh, is that what the kids are calling it now?”

She snorted. “Do you have a better explanation?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’d just say we are both single, we got a bit horny, and did something incredibly stupid. Something that we should probably never do again.”

“That is…mostly accurate, I suppose.” She admitted. “Did you tell anyone about it?”

“I did not,” He said. “What do you mean ‘mostly’?” The corner of his mouth twitched.

Rey’s eyes went wide.

The twitch became a smile. “You want to do it again, don’t you?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Fuck off, Solo. I’m not into you like that.”

“Me neither. But I’d like to do it again too.”

They both paused, staring. Something passed between them briefly, like a bolt of static electricity. It nearly made her recoil.

"This isn't about Skywalker, is it?" She said, dropping her voice low. "Like, I give you this, you give me my meeting?"

Ben shook his head. "Like I said, I don't like to use sex as a currency. If we're doing this, it's just because we want to get it out of our systems. Or, I suppose we're 'letting some steam out of the pot?'"

She watched as he reached out and brushed his knuckles against her arm, then pulled back and drew in a shaky breath. “We really shouldn’t. We could get in trouble, it could fuck up our evaluations.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not saying in the hospital. Besides, some fourth years already called dibs on at least one of the rooms.”

Rey moved her arms a little closer to his. “Where exactly would you propose then?”

He smiled wryly.“I’m not picky.”

"We're not doing it at my place."

"Fine with me. You can come to mine."

Rey swallowed hard. "Any roommates? Parents?"

He shook his head.

She drew in a shaky breath. This was actually happening. “No one has to know?”

“Not unless you want them to.”

She considered this, then looked down at his large fingers. “Maybe we should just talk things through first. Like, go grab a drink one evening or something.”

He sat back for a moment, then nodded to himself. “So you’re proposing a date?”

She snorted. “Of course not. I just want to make sure there’s a paper trail of my whereabouts in case I go missing.”

“Ah,” he said. “Got it. So I assume you’ll buy your own food and drinks?”

Bang!

Rey jerked back suddenly and glanced around the room for the source of the noise. She found it quickly; a five year old had just thrown their tray off the table. So, steadying her breath, she returned her gaze to Ben.

“Yes I’ll buy my own.”

“Works for me.”

She looked into his eyes for a moment, searching for something deeper, then sat back. “You understand that this means nothing, right?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” He said nonchalantly. “I’ll let you know when I’m available.”

She nodded and picked up her tray, ignoring the chunk of her sandwich still on the plate. “Okay.”

But when she went to throw out her food, she wound up standing at the bin for a minute, completely motionless, staring into the void. What the fuck had she just agreed to?

They did not speak any more of such things in the afternoon, and went their separate ways quite amicably when Phasma kicked them out at three. Only when she got to the gym’s changing room, did she notice a single text from Ben’s Facebook account.

Ben: I’m free on Thursday after 7

Rey: I can meet you at Digan’s at 8

Ben: Sounds good.

And a few minutes later, to her surprise, came another text.

Jess: Hey, I saw you leave with Ben the other night…everything ok?

She stared at it for awhile, then, recalling how Jess had looked at her the other night in the bar, put her phone on silent and stuffed it in her back pocket. 

Chapter Text

The morning that Rey was to meet Ben Solo, her head started swimming with the kinds of doubts and anxieties that would otherwise only plague her right after a big exam. 

She was going to sleep with Ben Solo. That was a real thing that she had signed up for, and now it was happening.

As soon as that sank in, she discovered that she could barely bring herself to look at him during rounds or bedside tutorials, and she made sure to stand a little off to the side when they were taking a history or talking to Phasma. He seemed entirely indifferent to this, but she could have sworn she saw him glance in her direction once or twice with narrowed eyes. It made her chest tighten and heartbeat pound in the back of her ears, like she was a trapped animal.

She wondered several times before noon if maybe she should just call it  off. What exactly was there for her to gain from a one night stand with her sort-of-nemesis? Fine, she could admit that he was incredibly hot and maybe she’d benefit from getting these strange and confusing emotions out of her system. She could have sex, leave, then try to sort things out in her head; the anger and envy and awe and gratitude. 

Maybe it would help her to feel a little less guilty about pestering him for Dr. Skywalker’s information. Before the gravity of her choice had set in, she’d spent the first half of the week texting him for updates, and each time he’d said that they hadn’t spoken yet, without giving any further explanation. The rational part of her wanted to believe that it was for personal reasons. Maybe they had a touch and go relationship, or maybe Ben was just a person who didn’t like to make phone-calls. But the most insecure part of her brain kept wouldn’t stop insisting that he was playing with her. He wasn’t going to do it until she screwed him. Which meant she was going to screw him.

Perhaps it was easier for her to tell herself that she was just sleeping her way into a networking opportunity. Such a thing would guarantee that the encounter would be as emotionless as possible.

Was she worried about one of them catching feelings? A little, but if that kind of thing were to happen, they’d just pump the brakes and move on. That was something she was totally capable of doing. Before Jess, she’d certainly slept around in undergrad. She’d known plenty of people who’d slept together once or twice, or even did the ‘friends with benefits’ thing and later parted ways amicably. Whoever said that it would always turn into a relationship or crash and burn had probably watched one too many rom coms.

But there were certainly some more glaring issues with this kind of choice. He could turn out to actually be a freak and try to hurt her. She might drink too much and do or say something she wouldn’t be able to take back. The sex could end up being mediocre. Their classmates could find out, and they might make it into a ‘thing’ as they had after their spats in first year.

But, to be fair, half of them were doing rotations in Chandrila. And the Coruscant group was so fractured and frazzled that they didn’t have the kind of time for gossip and drama that they used to.

By lunch, she had gotten so nervous that she wound up ditching the surgery students while they were on their way to the cafeteria. Instead, she marched into the paediatric neurology ward, past the colourful footprints and murals, and pulled Rose away from a conversation with a resident to speak to her at a nearby corner.

Rose, of course, was not happy and murmured something about how she was about to go in and meet a kid with cerebral palsy. When Rey showed her the texts from the previous Friday, she just stared at the screen before meeting her eyes. Her brows were furrowed with irritation.

“What exactly is the problem here? You both agreed to this.”

Rey rattled off a few of the potential problems that she had already thought about, but Rose met each one with a silence or a shrug.

“Sure, it’s probably not the best idea,” She said. “But I don’t see the harm here. If you don’t want to sleep with him then don’t sleep with him.”

“Alright, but—” Rey said, feeling her shoulders settle a bit. “What should I do?”

Rose handed back the phone and crossed her arms. “Just go to Digan’s and keep your phone on and charged. If you need to get out at any point, just call me. I’ll pick you up no matter where you are.”

Rey nodded. “Okay…okay, yeah, will do. If I need you, I’ll call.”

Rose pursed her lips, put her stethoscope around her neck, and straightened herself up. Before leaving, she took her fist and pushed it into Rey’s arm. “I honestly think you’ll be fine. Ben, he…he’s a good guy.” She said with a hint of a smile. “Just know that if you ever interrupt me like that again, I will kick your ass.”

***

The sun had only just gone down, but Digan’s was already busy. Distantly, she heard a number of loud voices singing off-key, occasionally punctuated by laughter and cheering. Maybe it was karaoke night. One of the posters on the window said that they did it every other Thursday.

With a deep sigh, Rey leaned her head against the brick wall and checked her watch.

8:05.

It shouldn’t have bothered her that he was running late. But she’d already been waiting for ten minutes and was struggling to stay and not just blow him off and deal with the awkwardness later.

Feeling a cool breeze brush against her, Rey bristled and wrapped her jacket tightly around her chest. She had made a point to use a minimal quantity of makeup and dress as casually as she could for the occasion; ripped black jeans, a light blue t-shirt and matching flannel, all under an old washed out jean jacket. It was the kind of outfit that she wore to go shopping with Rose after a late night of anime marathons, not something that she wore to go drinking or to get laid by a man.

The worst thought crossed her mind—would Ben think the outfit was cute? She certainly wasn’t dressing to entice him. She didn’t like to dress to entice anyone, but her last relationship had been with Jess, who was…a little too forgiving of her wardrobe choices. Seemed that the more egregiously Rey dressed, the happier she’d been to throw the pieces on the floor.

She had a quick glance at her outfit and pulled up her shirt collar. This isn’t a date, she reminded herself. Just two people meeting for drinks.

Suddenly, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She nearly jumped, then pulled it out and checked the name at the top. Unknown Number.

She put it up to her ear, and took a deep breath. “Hello?”

Ben’s voice on the other side was a little muffled, like he was out of breath.“Hey, I’m sorry, but I’ll be there in a few minutes. Are you close to the bar?”

“I’m still a few minutes away.” She said, shifting her position to the side to muffle the noise. She passed a glance at the road, and heard a car honk loudly as it sped by. “Wait, you’re not driving, are you? Because if you’re gonna drink—“

“I’m walking, don’t worry.”

Rey breathed a small sigh of relief. “Okay. I’ll meet you in front of the bar.”

“See you in a minute,” He said, then hung up.

Rey pried herself away from the wall and glanced up and down the sidewalk for him, but instead found a few clusters walking and laughing together. She decided to step away, pace up and down the corner of the block until he arrived. But, the moment she reached the curb and tried to turn back, she heard a voice call out.

“Rey!”

She turned with a start, to see Ben standing nearby, dressed in all black with the same leather jacket he’d worn a week ago. He was freshly shaven, and his hair was brushed back, allowing her to see the fullness of his nose and lips. He looked…far too hot for his own good. 

His posture was a little off though; he was a little hunched over and a bit out of breath.

“Hi,” said Rey nervously.

After a beat, Ben pointed behind him, towards the entrance to Digan’s. “I think you missed the door back there.”

“I was just—“ She tried to put her thoughts in order, but none seemed to came. He was here, in front of her, asking her to go into the bar. “It’s nothing,” She managed, before crossing her arms and walking towards him. “Let’s go inside.” Let’s get this over with.

Inside, the bar was in fact having a karaoke night, and a man and woman were getting up to sing Mr. Brightside.

Rey watched as they started to get into the song, and began humming along as the lyrics popped up onscreen. Suddenly, she felt herself shiver slightly, feeling Ben’s cool hand brush against the small of her back.

“Sorry if I made you wait,” He said into her ear. Then, he paused for only an instant, and she could have sworn she felt his fingers creep up her spine by just a few centimetres. “Do you want to go anywhere else?”

She considered this, then looked up, met his eyes, and shook her head. “I like this,” She said, offering a light smile. “Let’s find somewhere to sit.”

Once they were comfortable at a quieter table, facing each other directly, each with their own drinks—Ben, a bottle of Corona, and Rey, a whiskey on the rocks—she decided to be the one to break the ice.

“So,” She began, hesitantly. “Any word on Skywalker?”

Ben blinked, then picked up his beer and brought it up to his lips. “I haven’t called him yet. I’m seeing him and some family this weekend, so I think it’d be better for me to do it then. But I wanted to talk to you about something first.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Oh? What is it?”

“Yeah, I—“ He held the bottle away from his face. “—wanted to ask you what you want me to say to him?” Even in the low lights, the tension in his jaw was evident. “How do you want me to introduce you?”

“I—“ Rey felt a little dumbstruck. She hadn’t even thought to consider that before. She’d spent so long dreaming about the moment when she could meet Dr. Skywalker, but she’d also assumed that it would be in the hospital, as a student or resident. Now, knowing that he had retired, it changed things. “I guess, just say I’m a medical student and I want to do paediatric oncology. I’ve long admired Skywalker’s research, you told me about him being your uncle,” She nodded to Ben, who regarded her with a furrowed brow. “And I really want to meet. I think I’d rather tell him the rest in person.”

She watched carefully as Ben shifted his position in the seat, took a sip of the beer, and lowered the bottle to lean against his chest. “Okay,” He said with a quick nod. “I can’t make any promises, but that works.”

“Great,” said Rey, before picking up her glass.

They each took a sip, neither one taking their eyes off the other, and neither one fully able to pursue the thread. The music was starting to die down in the background, and they were calling up a new person to take over the mic.

A guitar riff rang through the bar, vibrating off the walls next to their table and ringing against her eardrum.

She knew that she could have asked him something. She had him alone, and she could have finally worn him down and interrogated him about his history with his uncle. It might have helped her understand a bit more about who he was. What his plans actually were for the future, whether he was also going into paediatric oncology. Whether he was someone she needed to worry about next year.

Why it still bothered her so much that he knew anything about her history. That he had seen her as a patient, even if it had been in passing.

But it was something in his eyes that made her choose to stay quiet. There was a familiarity to his gaze, the way that the shadows passed over his hazel irises when she said something that caused him discomfort, darkening them and preventing her from looking deeper. She recognized that defense mechanism as well as if she’d been looking in a mirror. That way of shutting things down so that no one could break through and take what was hidden inside. The kind of expression that reminded her of her own walls. She knew then that, even though she’d already inadvertently given him so much of herself, she wasn’t going to get anything good out of him tonight.

And maybe that was best for both of them.

Rey, unable to speak, started sipping at her drink awkwardly and glancing around the room. Then, feeling something kick against her foot, she turned her head and met Ben’s eyes.

“What’s your favourite colour?” He lifted his chin, then took a sip.

She blinked. “What?”

“That’s the kind of question you ask at these things, right? Something nice and innocuous.”

“Maybe if this was a date,” She said coolly. “Which it is not.”

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips followed. “Okay, so this isn’t a date. We’re just two friends—“

“—We’re not friends,” Rey broke in.

“We are two classmates—” Ben corrected. “Just having a couple of drinks and talking about our week. Nothing more than that.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

They set their drinks down in unison and turned to listen to the singers. A new song was starting up now, an old tune that felt familiar. When the lyrics started and she realized what it was, she smiled to herself and began humming along. Go Your Own Way, one of the Fleetwood Mac songs she’d heard on repeat in the car for so many years. She hadn’t realized how long it had been since she played it, but the memory of singing along, of singing with Mum with her feet on the dashboard, came unbidden. And for an instant, she let herself welcome it back.

“Mine’s blue, by the way.” She heard him say. 

She blinked. “What?”

He nodded and pointed to the singer. “Blue. You like this song?”

Rey felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Yeah, I do. D’you know it?”

Ben shrugged good-naturedly. “Of course I do. My parents had taste, after all. Dad raised me on Zeppelin and the Cure, Mom was a huge fan of Stevie Nicks and ABBA.”

“Oh,” She said awkwardly. “I was the same way. Raised on only the best seventies and eighties bands,” She picked up her glass and drank the rest of the diluted whiskey. “And a few Disney songs, I suppose.”

He smiled, making the marks of his dimples appear. “You know, I could put your name down with the DJ if you want to sing something.”

Rey laughed mirthlessly and slammed her glass down. “Absolutely not.”

He leaned forward slightly, his lips curling into a sly grin. “What, you have a bad voice? No one will care.”

Her cheeks were growing hot, and her heart was pounding wildly. She must have looked crimson in the lighting, but she prayed that he couldn’t tell. “Th—That’s not—I’m just not in the mood tonight.”

“That’s fine,” He said, pulling away to finish his beer. “I’ll get you up there some other night.”

She could have sworn she caught a wink.

“You want another drink? I’ll go up and grab us something.”

Rey took a moment to reach into her pocket, then seamlessly handed him her empty glass and her remaining five dollar bill. “Just get me the same thing again.”

Her eyes trailed him as he stood and walked to the bar, and as soon as it seemed that he’d gone far enough, she took out her phone and looked through her texts. Rose’s name was at the top of her history, but she wasn’t feeling ready to call things off. Things were fine so far—or, as fine as they could be with Ben. No arguments yet. Jess’s name was there too, attached to the last text she’d sent her on Monday. Rey had left her on read, knowing that it was a dick move, but she didn’t know what to say to that. They’d been broken up for almost a year now, and Jess had Kay. It wasn’t her business what, or who she was doing. 

Yet her thumb hovered over the name for a moment, and long enough that she saw Ben lower a fresh glass in front of her.

“Thanks,” She said, putting her phone back to sleep.

He took his seat again and sighed. Rey’s gaze lingered a little too long on the slow rise and fall of his chest, but when she saw his head tilt down, she turned her own to the table.

“It’s green, by the way.” She murmured.

“Good choice.” Said Ben, before clearing his throat.

“Have you set up your on-call shift?” She asked, drawing a circle with the condensation on the wood.

“I'll do it sometime in the next couple of weeks. You?”

“I think I’m going to wait until we start paediatrics.”

“Ah,” He said, taking a sip of his beer. “You want to get some time with Djarin?”

She shrugged. “Kind of, yeah.”

“Good on you,” He said sincerely. “He’s a great doctor. Have you talked to him yet?”

A small sigh escaped her. “Not yet. I’m still trying to find the right time. I don’t want to be weird about it.”

“You’ll be fine, you just need to do it.” Without breaking her gaze, he took a large swig and set his bottle back on the table. “Be warned though, he really likes to talk about his son.”

Rey chuckled to herself. “I think I remember that, actually. I think his son even came to the playroom once or twice to play Mario Kart with us.” She looked up, just in time to see Ben dodge her gaze. “That kid must be what, sixteen by now?”

His eyes were on her, and he seemed entirely relaxed, resting his beer against his chest. “Something like that.”`

Rey swallowed back a lump in her throat, then brought the glass to her lips. “We start doing subspecialties Monday. I’m still on general for another week, but what have you got first?”

“Anaesthesiology,” He said. “To be quite honest, I don’t know if I’m looking forward to it. I don’t care for the OR to begin with, and after what you told me I can’t stop thinking about the smell.”

“No, no that’s just my problem, you probably won’t even notice it.” She waved her hand dismissively, feeling the alcohol burn at the back of her throat. “You’ll do great.” You always do great.

“Got any tips?”

She blinked, then, considered it for a minute. “Don’t stand around in the background, it’s really awkward. Try to talk to whoever’s on the table. Distract them, play a game, or even just hold their hand. It makes them feel more like a person.”

He nodded attentively.

She looked down, then pursed her lips as her brain began to skim through the memories of being on the table. It made her chest grow a little tight. “The doctors like to sing nursery rhymes with the young kids, or have them pretend to be a masked supervillain.”

His smile widened a little.

She continued, unbidden, dipping her forehead. She couldn't bear to meet his gaze. “I had someone once…I don’t know if she was a resident or a student, but I was on the bed. I started shivering really badly, and she held my hand and talked to me about Sailor Moon until I went under.” It had been for one of the tumour excisions; one of the two five hour surgeries she’d undergone that had nearly killed her. And yet, that was all she could remember from it. That dark-skinned girl from the operating room, her face a blur, the lower half obscured by a surgical mask, and she had held Rey’s hand tight and calmly talked her through the procedure knowing that she might not make it out.

She drew in a shaky breath, then met Ben’s eyes and felt the tension in her chest begin to ease. “I wouldn’t worry about it, really.” Then, she wiped away a stray tear from the bottom of her eye and sniffled. “So you don’t want to do surgery?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been looking into psychiatry, actually. Maybe down the line I can do a paediatrics fellowship.”

She blinked, then recalled his dissertation and nodded to herself. It made perfect sense. “So you’re not following in your uncle’s footsteps?” She asked with some hesitation.

Ben’s nostrils flared, then settled immediately. “There are going to be plenty of talented oncologists in the world,” And unexpectedly, he made a motion with his bottle, toasting to her with a strange sincerity that made her body begin to tremble ever so slightly. “I’d rather pursue something I might actually enjoy. And what would be better than the thesis I spent six years slaving away at.” He raised his bottle, and released a dry chuckle.

Rey let out a small huff, relieved to know that he wasn’t going down her path. “Honestly, I could never see myself doing psych,” She admitted too quickly. She didn’t feel the need to explain that she’d never really talked to anyone other than a month-long stint with a counsellor at McMaster. “There’s so much damage there. I think I’d just—“ She began to laugh nervously, imagining that possibility. It was almost more ludicrous than imagining herself as anaesthesiologist. “—I’d probably wind up having a nervous breakdown in front of the patient.”

Ben laughed softly, and when she looked into his eyes, she saw him tilt his head. The dim orange lights cast his pale skin in a warm glow. 

“I worry about that too.” He blew out a puff of air, and tilted his head. His eyes never left hers. “But, I think when you have the experience in a field, it only makes sense that you’d want to put it to use.”

She laughed a little, then turned to applaud the singer as he wrapped up his song and took a bow. When she turned, Ben was looking right at her.

“What is it?” She asked, heart fluttering.

And then, softly enough that she could barely hear, he said: “You look really nice.”

***

In the end, they opted to take an Uber to Ben’s place while they were both still sober enough to make rational decisions. As they waited for the car to arrive, Rey made sure to stand a couple of steps to his right, shivering to herself from the cool night breeze. When the it arrived, she slid in the back seat, noted the destination address, and sent Rose a quick, discreet text, telling her that she was okay and going to Ben’s place. And as he took his seat next to her, she quietly put the phone away and straightened herself up, stared out the window, and kept her hands clasped at her thighs.

The ride was less than ten minutes long, and they spent every moment of that in silence. She tried to steady her breathing, but with every stoplight and road sign that they passed, she could feel her apprehension building. Her mind was a torrent of anxiety and insecurity, and part of her was desperate to stop the car and leave. If she’d known that she’d be doing this two years ago, she would have punched herself in the face. This was so selfish. She was using him, or he was using her. It didn’t matter. It just felt wrong. She always felt like she was walking on eggshells being around him on campus and in the hospital, and this was only going to make things worse.

But…she had liked being with him in that bar. Even with the background noise and her combativeness, or the interruptions and awkwardness, she had started to grow comfortable just sitting across and talking to him. It occurred to her then, that it was the second time that she’d told him some very personal things, half-expecting him to respond with the typical array of I’m so sorry, are you okay?, that’s so awful oh no, and he’d just…listened. He’d actually listened to her and taken those things in stride. Maybe her standards were just astronomically low, but she then remembered that she hadn’t even gotten that far with Jess in the months that they spent together. The one time she’d alluded to her cancer, she’d responded with a ‘sorry’ and Rey immediately clammed up. She never wound up elaborating much beyond that.

She shook her head, attempting to clear it, then noticed out of the corner of her eye Ben’s hand on the black leather, less than an inch away from her leg. Without a word, she shifted her left leg a little bit and spread them out. As she returned to gazing out the window, she felt his skin brush up against her jeans and closed her eyes, letting herself enjoy the feeling of his touch.

His apartment was in a low building, only about two stories high. Rey brushed herself off as she got out of the car, then looked to the red door while Ben thanked the driver and sent him off.

“How much was the ride?” She asked. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and slowly she pulled it out, holding it by her side.

“Don’t worry, it’s on me.” He said, digging in his jacket pocket. He pulled out his key, then gestured towards the door. “C’mon.”

She lingered a few steps behind as he opened the door.

Rose: Still here if you need anything <3

And quickly, she sent her a follow-up.

Rey: OK so far, will update

Then, she stepped inside and followed Ben up a flight of stairs to apartment 2B.

“Welcome to my lair,” He said plainly, jiggling his keys in the lock. She lingered behind him by a few steps as he touched the side of his doorframe and kissed them, murmuring to himself in Hebrew. Then, without hesitation, he held out his arm for Rey to step inside.

Though the entrance was dimly lit, the living room was covered in thick shadows, revealing only a simple dark brown couch and coffee table, a kitchen, and a narrow corridor presumably his bedroom.

Rey turned to Ben, crossing her arms. “Do you have any roommates?”

“It’s just me,” He said with a smile. Then, she saw it fade just as quickly. He cleared his throat, then moved to pull off his jacket. “Are you hungry at all? I can heat up a frozen pizza or something.”

Her stomach growled at the mention of pizza. “I’m not hungry.” She inhaled deeply, then moved close to him with her arms still crossed, so that they were only inches apart.

He seemed to take that as a signal and began to close the gap, his lips parted ever so slightly. She closed her eyes and did the same, then stopped, feeling his breath on her lips.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He whispered. “I don’t want to do anything if you’re not comfortable.”

Rey opened his eyes and met his. “I’m sure,” She whispered. Then, she climbed her toes, and kissed him.

However awkward or messy their last kisses were, this felt raw and right in a way that she couldn’t quite describe. It was as though, being truly alone, they were finally allowing themselves to express their physical desires in a way that they hadn’t before. She wrapped her arms around his neck, he cupped her cheek in his hand while his other crept down to her waist, her hip, her ass.

“Ben,” She murmured against his lips. 

He pulled away, looking feral under the lights. They met each other’s eyes, each laughed lightly, and went back in. His tongue met hers, again and again, then he pulled away from her lips and began to kiss the side of her mouth, her neck, and the top of her collarbone. 

She ran her fingers through his hair, kissed the upper areas of his face, then let out a little yelp as she felt herself being lifted off the ground. She closed her eyes and continued kissing him deeply, then wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Wait, wait Rey—“ He said breathlessly. “Fuck—“

“What is it?” She asked.

“Should we do this in the bedroom?”

Rey blinked, then glanced around the room. She shook her head and motioned to the living room. “Couch okay? It’s not too, you know—” Intimate.

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded and carried her to the couch and continued kissing her. Delicately, he lowered her to the leather and climbed over her, a low growl escaping his throat as he continued to kiss her neck.

Rey shivered, then lifted her head. “Wait wait, gimme a sec—“

Ben moved to let her sit up, then watched as she pulled off her jacket and her top, revealing her bra. Even under the shadows, she could see the hunger in his gaze. He pulled off his own top, then put his hands on her sides and lowered himself towards her.

Rey shuddered and brushed her hand against his chest. She met his eyes, his jaw relaxed, and she lowered her hand to his abs, and his belt.

With one hand, Ben undid the buckle of his belt, not taking his eyes off her, and wrapped a single hand around her breast as she slid her hand into his pants.

He kissed her, hard, then pulled back slightly and whispered into her ear, teasing. “You like that, sweetheart?”

So he liked to tease. Fine, she could work with that. “Very much,” She whispered, wrapping her hand around the outline of his swollen cock. “D’you like that? You like me touching your cock?” She whispered, lightly moving her fingers up and down the skin. Already, she could feel how big it was, and the mere thought of seeing it, let alone putting it inside her, filled her with apprehension.

“It’s so good,” He murmured, kissing her cheek. His fingers danced across the front of her bra. “Now,” He murmured. “Show me your tits.”

She sighed deeply and nodded, then watched as he pulled back and tilted his chin towards her, clutched her tit and pulled down her bra. In a moment, she unhooked it from the back and tossed it aside, then laced her fingers in his hair. He stared at her bare chest, bit the bottom of his lip, then knelt down and wrapped his mouth around her nipple.

He squeezed her free hand above her head. She moaned and brought her other hand between her legs, already feeling the area tingle and begin to grow damp. For ages, he continued to kiss, suck, bite at her nipples, then slowly began to slide his own hands under the hem of her pants. She moaned and lay her head back as his skin brushed against her clit, and clumsily tried to bring her free hand back to his pants.

“You’re so wet,” He whispered hoarsely, tensing as she began to caress his cheek. “Just for me.”

Then, to Rey’s surprise, he pulled his hands free and brought a finger to her mouth. She sucked it, never breaking his gaze, and when he seemed content, he pulled away and began to play with the hem of her pants again.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do this,” He whispered.

Rey blinked, a little shocked. Had she heard him correctly?

But, just as quickly, he began to shimmy her pants and underwear down, and she pulled them off, losing herself in the pleasure of the moment.

She lifted her head and shoulders a little, watching as he kissed her stomach. But again, he met her eyes. His gaze hardened slightly, and he kissed her lips. 

“Be a good girl for me, and stay still for this part,” He commanded, with a purr. Rey whispered something unintelligible, something like lick clockwise, but followed it with a nod of approval and shimmied her head up. He pulled back and kissed her breasts again, her stomach, then tilted her pelvis up and spread her knees apart. With a breath, he dove in, licking a path into her, flickering his tongue against her lips, her clitoris.

He was a patient one, more skilled at eating her pussy than she had expected him to be. More than almost any man she’d been with. He listened to her voice and used it as a guide, every rise and fall of her moaning, every crest in the pitch of her cries. As the warm ecstasy began to build within her, she lowered her hands to his hair, played with the dark thick strands, and whispered for him to go deeper, up a little, lick her clit. Oh God Ben, Ben. Fuck.

When she came, her thighs began to tremble wildly, fluid covering his mouth. He laughed lightly, then moved his head to the side, delicately kissed the inside of her thighs, and moved back to her face to kiss her, his lips still covered in her cum. “Fantastic job, sweetheart.”

When they broke the kiss, she shivered and caressed his cheek. For just a moment, the world paused, and she watched carefully as his eyes widened. Suddenly, impatience filled her, and she pressed her forehead against hers. She wanted--no, she needed--to get back to the sex. “I want you inside me,” She whispered. “Right now.”

He hesitated for a moment, then pulled back, breaking the heat of the moment. “Do you want me to get a condom?”

“Yeah, yeah,” She muttered breathlessly. “Just don’t take too long.”

He grinned and kissed her, then stepped off and went to his room. She lay there, naked and panting, staring at the dark dimpled ceiling, still reeling from the orgasm, waiting for him to come back. Her hand drifted to the wetness between her thighs, and she gently tried to rub the area, keep the wetness going, get herself properly lubricated for his dick.

Suddenly, she felt a hand against her shoulder. She looked up, to see Ben leaning over her head.

“Well aren't you an impatient one,” He said, kissing her.

She laughed sweetly as he walked around the couch and pulled down his pants and boxers, finally revealing his cock.

She stared at it for a moment, a little shocked at the size. It was swollen, erect, red and weeping at the tip.

She saw him holding the condom at his side, then looked up to meet his eyes and swallowed hard. “Is it going to fit?”

He laughed softly, like he’d never heard a compliment like that before. He looked down and pulled out the condom, then wrapped it around his cock. “We’ll make it fit.”

He worked her up for it, kissing her pussy again, digging two fingers again, letting her ride against the current and prepare herself. That pressure, that ecstasy began to build in her chest again, and when she finally felt open enough for him, she gazed into his dark hazel eyes and held his cheek in her hand.

Ben kept his gaze locked on hers as he entered her, smiling as she gasped. He started slowly, rhythmically, then began to speed up and thrust harder, making her gasp and moan with each breath.

She held her breasts and looked at him, seeing his determined face, his sincere desire to give her this pleasure, and smiled widely. “You’re so good at this,” She said, wrapping her hand around one of his forearms.

He smiled self-satisfactorily. “You like it?” He said, thrusting again and again. “You like me fucking you like this, sweetheart?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “Fuck me harder.” And she meant it.

He did as commanded, and when they both came, they let out moans loud enough to wake the neighbours.

***

She didn’t realize she had fallen asleep until she woke up to the sounds of her phone vibrating in the pocket of her jeans.

Still naked and sweaty, Rey fumbled around Ben’s sleeping body, then reached her phone and checked the time. It was midnight. They needed to be in the hospital in seven hours. Fuck, she needed to go home, get her scrubs, get changed, and get some actual sleep.

Ben murmured her name and tried to wrap his arm back around her, his eyes only half-open.

Delicately, she pried herself off of him and answered the phone, while picking up her clothes.

“Rey?” Asked Rose. “Everything okay? I didn’t hear from you.”

“Everything’s good,” She whispered. “I’m just—“ She passed a glance at Ben and his oversized limbs draped over the couch. It made her heart flutter a little, seeing him like that.

“Did you have fun?” She asked, a little suggestively.

Rey laughed nervously. “I think so.” Then, she cleared her throat and knelt to pick up her jacket. “I’ll be home soon. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Rose paused, then let out an exhale. “Okay, okay I’m glad things worked out. I need to get some sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Rey hung up and began to put her clothes back on. She was just doing her bra when she heard him stir. She looked over and saw him drape his head lazily over the side. “You can stay,” He murmured. "If...you want to."

She sighed. Any other night, she told herself, she would have been happy to stay and avoid taking a late-night taxi or dangerous stroll. But then what? Staying overnight would mean that this was more than sex. And that’s all this had been.

“I had a really good time,” Rey said quietly. And she did mean it.

Ben smiled and nodded, his eyes fluttering shut. “Me too.”

“I should go though, my stuff’s at home,” She said guiltily, nodding to the door. “I’ll erm—I’ll see you at rounds.”

Chapter Text

During a consultation, doctors will varying amounts of time interrogating their patient on their pain. Every medical student is taught to use the mnemonic “Socrates.”

S-Site

O-Onset

C-Character

R-Radiation

A-Associated symptoms

T-Timing

E-Exacerbating/relieving factors

S-Severity (1-10)

Timing is one of the elements that a doctor will focus on, more so than the others. Does your pain come in waves, or is it constant? Does it flare up only after activity, at the start of the day, or towards the end? Does it keep you awake overnight or cause you to awaken in the morning? To awaken from pain is generally considered to be a major red flag.

For Rey, it meant that her period had started.

She groaned and shifted, reaching lazily for her water bottle and the Advil on the nightstand. After downing two capsules, she sighed and rolled back onto her stomach, then grabbed her phone to wait for the combined menstrual and endometriosis pains to ease.

The cramps came, one after another, like someone was punching the inside of her uterus with brass knuckles. She could put up with it. She preferred to have it hit her all at once than gnaw away at her insides for weeks or months on end. At least when she felt this in her lower abdomen, she knew exactly what was going on. And…it really wasn’t that bad. Or rather, it wasn’t the worst pain she’d ever felt, nor was bad as it used to be. The surgeries had done a lot to help her be more functional and less feral, especially on her period. Advil was just the extra little thing that she still used to make sure she could stay on her feet. It was her last week in general surgery, and she was going to be spending most of it alone with Sloane and Phasma. After that, three weeks split between orthopaedics, ENT, and anaesthesiology. Then the surgery shelf exam. Then paediatrics.

She needed to be at the top of her game.

Rey propped her chin up on the pillow and checked her email. There was only one notification, from Chandrila Med’s residency coordinator, Dr. Maz Kanata. Their mandatory meeting was almost a month away, but she needed to submit her resume and specialty preferences soon. She made a mental note to herself to finish updating her resume by the end of the week.

She was about to put her phone away and try to get a few more minutes of sleep when the texts came.

Ben: Hey

Ben: Do you want to grab lunch?

Ben: Or just talk? I’ll be around the OR all day

Her finger hovered over the screen for a few moments, but she didn’t dare to click. She wasn’t in the headspace to talk to anyone right now, and if she clicked on them and left him on read, she’d look like a dick.

So, she turned her phone off and put it on the table, then rolled onto her back and stared at the dimples on her off-white ceiling.

They hadn’t spoken to each other since Thursday, in person or over text, and she didn’t know what it meant. She didn’t even know who was supposed to initiate the conversation; her or Ben. Someone needed to call it so that they could discuss what had occurred: a consensual sexual encounter between two barely buzzed people who couldn’t stand each other but were also reasonably horny, lonely, and physically attracted to each other. 

A mouthful, but the most precise way she could think to describe the situation.

She had really convinced herself that it’d be easy to do, cathartic even. But, as straightforward as the sex had been, the strange tumultuous emotions hadn’t disappeared over the weekend as she’d hoped they would. They kept her tossing and turning at night, exacerbated by the pre-menstrual hormone cocktail. She just needed some time to process it…what happened…what they’d said…what next…it had been her first time sleeping with anyone since Jess. Oh God, it had been her first time with any guy since McMaster. She must’ve been so rusty.

Maybe he hadn’t said anything to her because she hadn’t been good, but--no—no, that couldn’t be it. Ben had clearly enjoyed himself. He’d even said that he’d wanted to do it for awhile. And although Ben Solo had kept several things from her, he certainly wasn’t a liar.

As the memory of his words and his crossed her mind, she could feel her face growing hot. God, she’d been so stupid. He’d wanted to fuck her for so long, and she just…gave herself to him. Opened up to him. Over and over again, she’d poured out her deepest secrets to this guy and said things that she would never admit to even her closest friends.

What was wrong with her?

***

 Things were quiet that morning, with half the surgery group dispersed amongst the subspecialties for the first time. Sloane was nowhere to be seen and Phasma wasn’t in the greatest of moods at rounds. She didn’t do much to involve Rey in the process, besides a couple of (failed) IV insertions that left her tremulous and sweaty. As soon as they left the wards, Phasma left to go answer an urgent page, which gave Rey some time to pace the hospital corridors and try responding to Ben’s texts.

Rey: Can we talk another time? Just…don’t want to distract you from your rotation

[…]

[…]

[…]

Ben: I don’t mind. Not much to do here anyway.

She sighed and massaged her stomach, feeling a dull wave of pain pass through. She tried to write up a few replies:  I need some time to myself…I don’t want to…I can’t…We shouldn’t…No…

But in the end, she couldn’t bring herself to say any of that.

Rey: I’ll let you know when I’m free

[…]

Ben: Sure

It was the only thing she could think to say other than a flat out ’no.’

Rey knew that she’d had a problem for years; a pathological inability to just stand her ground and say ‘no’ to people. Take the hard essay topic? Why not. Stay still for the next hour and ignore the noises, okay? Will do. Be my partner on high-ropes? Come get a drink with me? Can the student try the IV today? Can we go to your place tonight? Can you please stay calm? 

She thought she was getting better at dealing with that, but any progress she’d ever made just vanished when she was with him. It was pretty pathetic, the more she thought about it, how easily she’d thrown herself at him at the first available opportunity. How willingly she’d opened herself up to him for—what? Nothing but a jerk with a pair of pretty eyes.

She decided then that once she worked up the nerve, she would tell him to his face that she didn’t want to do it again. Her nerves would be better spent on the shelf exams anyway.

But the day passed her by, and she never saw him. He tried to text her a couple of times with short-simple prompts, but she didn’t respond to either.

She tried to distract herself by texting her classmates, but they were all doing their own things this week. Her still-unread texts from Jess were still sitting there, but she scrolled past them without much thought. She tried texting her friends, but both were busy with their own things. Rose, in particular, seemed uncharacteristically closed-off. The best she could get was:

Rey: Forgot to ask, but any updates on the Hugh situation?

Rose: […]

Rose: …uhhh…will elaborate another time.

Rey: Did you…?

Rose: I’ll talk to you later.

Tuesday came and went; Rey and Ben still did not speak to each other. She could have sworn that she saw a large silhouette in the dim window of OR 3’s induction room, but it would have been bad etiquette to barge in unannounced. Not that she would have wanted to anyway. It was far easier on her nerves to weave through the sinks of her team’s OR and help the doctors with their gowns while breathing in the soap, sweat, and sour rubbing alcohol. Distantly, she could hear music playing in the background. It sounded like the Nutcracker.

She considered texting—or, God forbid—calling him unannounced, but resisted the urge to do so. She needed to wait and do it in person.

A couple hours in, they let her scrub in on a gallstone ileus. Her muscles grew weary from holding the large flaps of skin apart as Sloane pulled out an endless supply of intestines, the way a magician would with colourful scarves.

Her gloved fingers brushed against the tissue. They felt squishy, a little slimy even. Phasma pointed out the ways that some of them wouldstill  twitch; peristaltic waves fighting to stay active even in the midst of overwhelming anaesthesia.

When it ended, three hours later, Rey backed away as Holdo and her resident worked quickly to change the tubes and drips, disconnect the ventilator, and walk the patient to the recovery room. It crossed her mind briefly, how terrible they were going to feel upon awakening. She hoped that they’d be given enough morphine to cope.

Between surgeries, she paced the busy halls between the operating rooms, furiously jotting down notes in her little book, taking shaky sips of water, and eyeing the narrow windows to the induction and recovery rooms. Sometimes, when the doors opened, she saw masked people shuffling about and patients stirring in beds, covered in tangles of blankets and wires and tubes.

She bumped into Orla at some point, who was standing against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest, her skin pale, and her expression blank.

Slowly, Rey positioned herself next to her, keeping her gaze locked on the empty white wall across from her.

“How’re you doing?” She asked quietly. Oral was the only other person still on general surgery.

Orla chuckled mirthlessly. “Karn just asked me if I can scrub in tomorrow morning on a gastrectomy*.” She groaned. “They’ll be in at seven.”

Rey raised an eyebrow. “You don’t sound very excited.”

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “He said to be prepared for an eight hour surgery. I don’t know if I have the stamina for that.”

“I think you’ll be fine.”

Orla shook her head and pushed her shoulders in, making herself look a little smaller. “You don’t get it, Rey, I can’t—I’m not cut out for surgery. I fainted in the OR last week. It's so fucking embarrassing."

Rey pursed her lips together, but said nothing.

Then, Orla murmured something that made the blood freeze in Rey's veins.

“He said they’re gonna open up the patient beforehand to check for mets**. And if they find any, they won’t do the procedure.”

Rey bristled at the word, but met her classmate’s glassy gaze.

When Orla spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper. “Is it bad that…I kind of want there to be mets?”

She blinked, opened her mouth, her voice cracking as if to say no it’s not, I get it, but couldn’t bring herself to lie. She wasn’t even particularly angry or disgusted with Orla, but that wasn’t a conversation that she was willing to have. So, without another word, she picked herself up from the wall and walked back into her OR. It was still empty; her bosses were most likely having a coffee before starting up again. The anesthesiology resident and scrub nurses were hard at work inside, preparing the equipment and meds for the next procedure.

Sloane re-entered the OR just as Rey took her seat by the computer.

“Hey, we have an extra resident on this hernia case, so you can’t scrub in.” She said while only half-looking at her and adjusting the scrub cap and mask around her chin.

Rey nodded immediately. “It’s no problem, I can watch.”

She furrowed her brow, then pulled up her mask and tilted her head towards the induction room door. “Do you want to say hello to the patient before they come in?”

It wasn’t actually a question. Rey planted her feet on the linoleum floor and followed her into the induction room.

The room was barely larger than a broom closet, containing only enough space for four or five people standing people and one bed. Four walls, two doors, a thin curtain pulled over the window of each to keep things as private and intimate as possible. Every wall was snow-white, far brighter than the beige walls of the OR and accentuated by the pale flickering light cast down from above. It smelled faintly of sweat, but somehow colder than the OR, more stale.

She shivered slightly. There it was, that sweetness. Barely a wisp in the air, maybe not real at all, but still all-too familiar.

Somehow, she found it in herself to slip around to an empty spot against the countertop where she could watch without disturbing anyone. She wasn’t on this rotation yet, she told herself. She could be a fly on the wall until Sloane gave her permission to leave the room.

Rey caught a glimpse of the patient between the shifting forms of those around her; a tanned Asian woman who looked to be in her mid fifties.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

She lifted her gaze to the monitor, next to the tubes measuring the gases and the large green balloon that indicated the patient’s work of breathing. 106 beats per minute. Oxygen saturation 97%. Beep. Beep.

Despite the monitor’s readings, the lady seemed at ease amongst the bustling energy of the room, and kept her eyes trained on Sloane as she calmly explained the procedure, felt around for the mass, and drew something on her skin. There was a ringing in the room, or in Rey’s ears, that prevented her from hearing every little detail, but when her boss waved for her to come over and feel for the incisional hernia mass by her belly button, she did as instructed and then quietly thanked her before pulling away.

The lady took it all in stride, and even offered Rey a reassuring smile. Perhaps she sensed her apprehension. Or her embarrassment. She’d given Ben that stupid pep talk, but couldn’t bring herself to communicate with someone when it actually mattered.

Rey’s eyes lingered for a moment on the lady’s stomach, just before she pulled the gown back over it. There was a large thick scar clean down the middle, shiny and slightly dimpled: a mark of a major abdominal surgery. The line was a pale pink that indicated advanced age. There was another nearly imperceptible white line under the curve of her lower stomach, the telltale sign of a previous C-section. This wasn’t her first time going under. Not by a long shot.

She shuffled aside, swallowed hard, and stood by the door, one hand on the knob.

Beep. Beep.

Heart rate: 120.

Rey tried to watch the lady as one of the doctors began to push the milky-white propofol into her IV, a nurse stood on the other side and held her free hand, and the head doctor prepared the mint-green mask behind her.

“Alright Ursa, just relax…” The one with the IV said gently, brushing her thumb against the top of her wrist. A gesture of comfort, but a useful action. It pushed the propofol through and lessened the icy pain. “We’ll see you when you wake up.”

Rey could only watch as the woman shifted in the bed and kept her eyes trained on the ceiling, murmuring something to herself as if in prayer. Then, her eyes drifted shut, the doctor lowered the sea-green mask, and Rey left the room, heart pounding. When Phasma came in to begin prepping Ursa for the procedure, she took the opportunity to step out and get a drink of water and did not return until her ears stopped ringing.

***

6:40am.

Rey swore to herself again and again as she put on her black scrubs, tied her hair into a bun, and rushed out the door, slamming it behind her.

As she left the building, she shivered and zipped up her jacket. The early morning air was damp from last night’s storm, and the slowly paling sky above was still covered by a thick blanket of storm clouds. They shifted quickly as she stepped outside, moving and whirling as if coming in for round two. Her old red Toyota was sitting in the back, cramped between two larger black and grey cars. She shimmied through the space, threw her in things in the back, and slipped into her seat.

But when she dug the keys into the ignition, the car sputtered to a life…and then abruptly stopped.

She blinked and tried again. Again: start, sputter, stop.

She tried once more for good measure, and when she felt something vibrate from under her, she swore to herself, turned it off, and jumped out of the car so quickly that she nearly scratched her neighbour on the way out.

“Fuck,” Rey said to herself, running a hand through her hair. Her chest was tightening, cheeks heating. She didn’t need this today, she didn’t need the stupid old fucking car to die on her. It was 6—6:50 now. She was already running late, and if she didn’t leave soon she’d miss rounds altogether and Phasma would give her shit for it.

Coruscant was too far for her to walk, if she sprinted and somehow made it without her stomach splitting open or her dying of exhaustion it might take twenty minutes. The next bus wouldn’t be due until 7, but maybe she could run to the stop and—

Drip.

She reached up and touched the top of her head, then bristled, feeling another drop. Within seconds, the sky darkened a few shades and raindrops began dotting the pavement. Rey sprinted back under the cover of the door as the drops turned into a hard drizzle.

Her eyes were trained on her car, still sitting unattended in the parking lot. Clearly, a different strategy would be needed.

Rey pulled out her phone and began scrolling through her contacts. Anaesthesiology wasn’t starting until 8, but Ben was a hard no. Anyone else on surgery was already at the hospital, and Finn and Rose lived too far away from her. Even if they said yes, she didn’t want to have to make them come all the way up here. She wasn’t close enough with any of her other classmates to be able to afford this kind of favour. Uber prices were always jacked up at this time of the morning. The bus was probably already gone and the next one would come who-knows-when with morning rush hour…but she needed someone.

She clenched her jaw and scrolled back up to his name.

Fuck it.

The second ring had barely finished before she heard a click and a voice on the other line.

“Rey?”

“…Hey Ben.” She murmured.

There was a pause on the other line. Then: “Is everything okay?”

She checked her watch, then looked back to the car and let out an awkward groan. “Depends. Are you at the hospital yet?”

“Not yet.” He paused. “You need a ride?”

***

Ben Solo came to the front of the building to pick her up in a shining phantom-black Hyundai sedan. Probably less than five years old. Luckily, when she sat down in the car, her hair still a little wet from the rain, he didn’t seem to mind.

“You’re alright?” He asked, reaching his arm out.

Rey looked at his hand, a little startled, and shrank back, choosing instead to open and close the door again. “I’m good. Thank you for doing this.”

He smiled lightly. “All good, but what happened to your car?” He tilted his head towards the lot.

Rey pressed the back of her head against the chair and sighed. “Dead, probably. Serves me right, that thing has over two hundred thousand kilometres on it. I just hoped it would last me until the end of the semester at least.”

“I see…” He muttered. “What are you gonna do after this?”

She glanced at her watch. “Take a bus—” 7:10. 

“You’re not gonna get it towed?”

“I don’t really have the money for that.”

“CAA?”

Rey shook her head. “We should probably get going if we’re going to make it on time.”

“Yeah of course,” He said, picking up his own phone. She gave him an incredulous look as he put it to his ear.

“What are you doing?”

“You need to get your car looked at,” He said, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. “I have a CAA membership.”

Rey relented and sat back as he seamlessly connected the phone to the system and called CAA to pick up her car. As they reached the first set of lights and rolled to a stop, she chimed in to describe it and give the reference number, then sat back silently as he completed the call and hung up.

“Okay, that’s done. Hopefully it’ll be a quick fix.”

“Yeah, hopefully…” She murmured doubtfully, glancing up at the shining red lights between the rain drops on the window. Even if the mechanic could work some magic, it was going to take a huge chunk out of her already-tight budget.

They sat in silence together, waiting for the lights to change. Rey tried to keep her eyes as far away from his as possible. Her eyes fell to the side mirror, briefly, but she turned away just as quickly and returned to focusing on the road.

Suddenly, the sound of a guitar riff rang through the space between them. Rey turned to the radio and smiled softly to herself, knowing what the tune was leading into. Loving you isn’t the right thing to do.

Adorable.

“We never got to talk about the other night,” He said in a low voice.

Rey turned towards him, but his eyes were now trained on the road.

“Sorry,” She murmured, feeling her cheeks warm. “I was busy.”

“I get it,” He said plainly. “It’s awkward. And if I did anything wrong, I’m sorry.”

She frowned. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I…I had a good time with you.”

He drew in a sharp breath. “Me too.”

The light changed, they continued, while Fleetwood Mac switched to the Immigrant Song. It seemed as though with every block, the traffic got more packed. They were going to get caught in the morning rush hour after all. And she was missing rounds for sure.

“I know that it wasn’t technically a date, and we’re not—you know—advertising it to anyone other than your friends. But if you want to do anything else, I know a really good sushi place in town that we could check out.”

Sushi, admittedly, sounded a bit tempting. But, remembering what she’d promised herself to do, Rey shook her head. “I appreciate it, but no. I think...” She shivered, hugged herself, and turned to meet his gaze. “…I need time before I can do that again.”

He turned back to the road. “I understand.”

She bit her lip and turned away, feeling a wave of guilt wash over her. “But—” She murmured. “I don’t mind being friends, at least.”

He seemed to be considering that for a moment. Rey glanced up just as his large hands tightened around the steering wheel. Then, he nodded. “Friends is alright.” He said. Then, he chuckled softly. “Certainly an interesting development.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing just—” He smiled and gestured towards her. “Two years of petty fighting in PBL and barely tolerating each other outside of it. And all it takes a messy one-night stand for us to get to the point of ‘friends.’”

Rey chuckled softly. “Kind of a roundabout way of doing things.”

“We should send a box of chocolates to whoever made the rotation schedule.”

The rain continued to fall outside, harder and harder. The window of visibility created by the windshield wipers was shrinking.

“Shit morning,” She heard him murmur. “Was it often like this when you were a kid?”

“Hmm?”

“In London,” He said. “I went to Scotland once as a kid, but I don’t remember much about the weather.”

She shrugged, feeling her shoulders relax. “I don’t remember much either, to be honest.” She said. “But yeah, it rained more often than not.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” He said. “It’s such a pain to drive through.”

“Yeah,” She replied, then looked out the window to see the light turning red. But he hadn’t stopped. “Ben—“ She said, turning and pointing. “It’s red.”

He stopped immediately. “Thanks,” He murmured.

She realized, in that moment, that he had been looking at her.

Feeling the warmth bloom in her chest, she shifted her weight and settled back into the seat, where she turned her gaze back to the mirror.

“How’s general surgery without me?” He asked.

“More of the same,” She said nonchalantly. “How’s anaesthesiology?”

“It’s good. Yeah…I took your advice and everyone loves me. Definitely my new specialty of choice.”

She whirled and raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, I hate it and I want it to be over.”

“Did you smell the gas yet?”

He grimaced. “Not yet, fortunately. I’m usually with the adult patients so I've been having fun failing at cannulas. But I can’t stand to sit around in the OR like that. It makes me want to rip my hair out. Holdo’s on level twelve hundred of Candy Crush or something.”

She giggled, imagining him being less than perfect at such a mundane technical skill, and someone as intimidating as Holdo hunched over in her little chair, absolutely devoted to that stupid game. “Pretty boring, then?”

“Mostly, yeah.” He said. “But it’ll be over soon. Then we can move on with our lives.”

Rey wondered for a moment, if he was trying to put her at ease. But as soon as it arrived, she chased the question away.

A few minutes later, they reached the hospital’s underground parking lot. Rey sat in silence as he drove through, swiped his student card for access, and found them a good spot relatively isolated from the rest of the cars on the floor.

7:30. They’d be finishing up rounds by now. No point in rushing into it.

She glanced at Ben, who was turning off the ignition.

“Hey,” She said. “Can I actually ask you something? Just…as friends?”

He raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“You erm…you said the other night that you’d wanted to do…it for awhile.”

He blinked, then opened his mouth and began sputtering something incomprehensible. But when their eyes met again, he pursed his lips and frowned.

“Does it matter?”

She nodded.

He sighed. “Then is it bad if I say med ball?”

She blinked. “Really? But you were so—” She started, then stopped. She barely remembered that night anymore, especially with how much she’d ended up drinking. Just a half-baked argument over her legal name and some aggressively white Canadian sing-alongs.

“I’m not going to act like I made a great pitch.” He said. “But you look…” He exhaled. “You looked beautiful that night.”

At those words, Rey leaned in just a little closer. She knew she was blushing.

“When did you know you wanted to sleep with me?” He asked.

“I really don’t…know,” She murmured, blinking slowly. Somehow, her hand started drifting forward. To the space between them, to the edge of his seat. To his thigh. Maybe the first day in OR. Maybe the first night they spoke to each other.

They closed the gap together. It was far more soft and tender than the ones before. Anyone looking through the window might’ve thought they were a couple saying goodbye. She revelled in the sensation of the kiss as long as she could, closing her eyes and enjoying the taste of him. Meanwhile, her hand continued tracing the inner lining of his thigh, as gently as possible. They continued, deepening it little by little, but as she felt his hand against her cheek, she broke the kiss and pressed her forehead against his. She closed her eyes and placed her palm against his hand. 

They sat there breathing in unison, until she shivered, then opened her eyes and met his. In that instant, the irrational id, or the hormonal part of brain, was ready to take over. But, as soon as she saw his brows furrow with concern, she pulled away and stifled the urge within her.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. “We should go.”

He breathed, then nodded, accepting. “Okay.”

As she reached down to grab her bag and open the door, she heard him say: “Text me later and I’ll give you a ride home.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“We live five minutes away from each other. I’ll drive you home.”

She shook her head as harshly as she could. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll take the bus.”

“Rey, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” She said flatly. “It was my mistake. We’re just friends, right? You don’t need to do anything else for me.”

He stared at her for a moment, before frowning and taking off his seatbelt. Every detail of his expression suggested irritation. “Fine.” He simply said.

“Ben—”

“It’s fine, I get it. I’ll send you a text when the car’s ready.”

She paused, feeling guilty again. “Which auto shop did they take it to?” She asked quietly.

He pursed his lips, then picked up his phone and scrolled through. “Not sure…” He trailed off for a moment, eyes narrowing at the screen. But before he could reveal anymore, his gaze softened, and he put his phone down. “But it won’t be a problem, CAA’s always good with this kind of stuff. And the towing will be free.”

She nodded to herself, then met his eyes. “Okay. And…thank you. Again.”

He didn’t smile. “You don’t need to thank me for every little thing.”

“I know,” Rey said quietly. “But I meant it. You’ve helped me a lot these past few weeks. And—” She bit her lip, then relaxed and met his hazel gaze. “I’m sorry about that.”

A shadow passed over features, making his eyes look nearly black as midnight. “It’s okay.” He said quietly. "I understand."

***

There was a moment in the student room when she thought Ben wanted to talk to her again, maybe pursue the thread from the car. She could feel his sharp gaze lingering, studying her even as her own eyes were turned towards the inside of her locker.

But when she turned back, he was already walking out the door.

He didn’t show up to bedsides later that morning. Neither did Jess, who was helping the Ortho gang with a hip replacement. Rey, however, was more surprised to see Orla present. She’d half-expected her to be stuck in the OR all day, what with her early morning call time. And as soon as she saw her reddened eyes and distant, shell-shocked expression, she understood why.

There had been mets.

Rey’s fantabulous list of assorted medical school terms

Gastrectomy—>surgical removal of all or part of the stomach, most often to treat gastric cancer. It is typically combined with a radical lymphadenectomy (removal of local lymph nodes) and a Roux-en-Y anastomosis (surgery to reestablish continuity of the GI tract; otherwise used in bariatric surgery)

"Mets" (Metastasis)-->when a tumour spreads from its primary sites and seeds other organs. Cells can be transported through the blood vessels, lymphatic system, penetration of surfaces, or through the canaliculi (ducts between organs, such as the urinary tract).

Chapter Text

Twenty minutes until the first surgery was due to begin, and Rey was already dressed in her full getup and pacing around the main halls, reading through the bowel cancer notes she’d put together for the day. Hartmann’s for diverticulitis. She’d kissed him again. Abdominoperineal resection. And he’d reciprocated. Yet again.

A small shiver went down her spine. She was such an idiot. Why was her stupid brain still thinking about that when she needed to focus? It would have been infinitely easier if she could just imagine that he was playing a long con by pretending to be civil with her. Then she wouldn’t have to think about whether or not he’d enjoyed it or felt something for her. She needed to stop thinking about his stupid face and focus. Focus. Focus—

“Hey Peanut, wait up!”

She pulled back, a little startled, and closed her notebook. “Hey Finn,” She eyed him as he jogged up to meet her. “How’s your day going?”

“Well, I am awake.” Finn pursed his lips and looked around. “I’m here. My resident buddy is getting coffee like a barbarian,” He mused. Somehow he’d managed to make it through two full years of medicine without developing an addiction. “So I’m bored and waiting for her to get back. What’s up with you?”

She took a deep breath. “Not much. What about you? How’s oncology going?”

He shrugged good-naturedly. “It’s alright, I guess. The team’s really nice.”

Rey nodded absentmindedly but said nothing as they continued slowly walking together across the linoleum floor. Her phone blinked briefly, and she pulled it out to see a notification that read car will be ready at three.

Finn broke the silence first. “You never told me how things went with Ben the other day.”

“Oh…” She blinked and turned off her phone, stuffing it back into her pocket. “Right. I meant to, I just…it’s been a long week.”

“You know you don’t need to give me details, I’m just curious.”

Rey nodded and returned her gaze to the linoleum floor, saying nothing.

Finn raised an eyebrow. “Was it…okay?”

Rey’s gaze darted to his, and she suddenly felt her cheeks go warm under her mask. 

“You can tell me if it was bad Rey. Or like, if he did something…” He trailed off, his concerned gaze locked on Rey’s.

She exhaled and hung her head, sensing his hand hovering over her back. “I know—”

“Because if he did anything I would kill him.”

“Finn, no that’s not—” She sighed, then let out an unintentional yawn. She’d been in the hospital since 6am pre-rounding. “He didn’t do anything like that.”

He paused for a moment. “I believe you, but I’d still kill him if you asked. I mean, if Rose doesn’t get to him first.”

“Yeah, I don’t need either of you committing murder for me. It wasn’t even bad or anything,” She said uncertainly, suddenly finding her ID card very interesting. We kissed again. “I just don’t know where we stand now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we said we’d just be friends but...” She trailed off. She considered for a moment, telling him the truth about Ben. That he'd worked with her oncologist. He'd seen her chemo-ridden self, most likely multiple times. She didn't know how she could feel being with him, as someone she harboured so much anger and bitterness towards, but also fear. No longer fear that he would tell anyone, but fear that everything he'd done for her had carried an edge of pity. The vestige of a power dynamic that remained completely out of her control.

“How do you ‘just be friends’ with a guy like that?”

Rey dodged his curious gaze, but said nothing.

“I don’t have a good answer for that. I mean, we both tried to play that game a few times at Mac, and it never really worked out.”

"It's just hard to be around him." She finally murmured.

Finn stopped then, and she did a foot away. "Why?" He asked. "And don't say it's because of the brooding. That clearly didn't stop you from hooking up with him."

She hugged herself, suddenly feeling profoundly uncomfortable. She didn't have time or nerves to explain all of the reasons why. But she did tell him the key thing. He'd worked with Skywalker, and he'd known her as a patient.

Finn seemed taken aback by this, but came to terms with it fairly quickly. "Is that a problem?"

"It's--" She started, then drew in a sharp breath to keep the tremble from emerging in her voice. So much of her time at Coruscant had been reduced to a chemo-induced blur. It still bothered her endlessly that other people remembered her time better than she did. Whether it had been Mum or Ben himself.

"He hasn't told anyone, has he? I know how much you want to keep that stuff private."

"No, he hasn't done that...but it's hard to explain. He's brought it up and I know he remembers more, I just wish I--I don't know. I just wish he didn't know." She wished she could just set that part of her life aside in a little box and ignore it. Move on. Create relationships and a career that wasn't tainted by it.

To her surprise, Finn came over and pulled her into a tight hug. "I'm sorry it's bothering you."

Rey reciprocated, then pulled out of the embrace, patted him on the shoulder, and pulled away to continue walking.

The colourful feet on the floor started coming into view. Feeling her heartbeat quicken, Rey turned to him and adjusted her mask to stay atop her nose. “So what do you think I should do? Tell him to shove it? Blow up his car?” Cruel jokes, but Rose would have erupted into giggles.

He just shrugged. “I don’t know, talk to him? Set some boundaries? If this is bothering you that much, he needs to understand that."

She frowned, slightly disappointed. Of course he’d provide her with some mature and reasonable advice.

“Yeah,” She murmured frustratedly. “Yeah sure I’ll give it a shot.”

“Great,” said Finn, seemingly oblivious to her tone. “And here is my stop.”  He pointed to the sign just across from them for the oncology ward's entrance.

Rey looked up and drew in a quick, sharp breath. She really needed to get her reactions under control before changing specialties.   She wasn’t living in the wards anymore. She’d only have to be here as a patient going forward for the occasional gynecology checkup.

“Cool, I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Actually,” Finn said suddenly. “Can I ask you something too?”

Rey nodded and followed him to an isolated corner a few feet away from the door. “What’s wrong?”

“Just before I say anything, promise me you won’t tell Rose.”

Rey met his eyes. “What’s going on with Rose?”

He hesitated, then began rubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s nothing, really. But…did she ever talk to you about what happened with Hugh?”

She blinked. “She just told me that it didn’t work out. I guess she left early. Why do you ask?”

He sighed. “Oh. She didn’t tell me that. I thought she—” He broke off, then shook his head and crossed his arms nervously. “I don’t know, I thought something happened. She’s been acting…weird ever since.”

“How so?”

He hesitated. “She hasn’t—I don’t know,” He scratched the back of his neck. “Like we were carpooling for weeks and suddenly she said that wanted to start driving herself to run errands, but like—I know she just eats hospital food. All that’s on her shelf in the fridge are some old goi cuon from her mom.”

Rey crossed her arms. “And?”

“I don’t know, she’s just suddenly stopped hanging out around the house. That’s weird, right?”

“I mean—yeah, but—maybe something’s bothering her?” She wondered what that thing could be. Maybe something had happened with Hugh that she didn’t feel comfortable discussing.

“Yeah,” He murmured. “I’m not,” He stopped himself, closing his eyes. “If she really did leave early then I’m not worried or anything,” His tone was slow and uncertain. “It’s just bothering me that she’s . I just want to know she’s okay. Can you talk to her or something?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, just…” He motioned vaguely with his hands. “I just want to know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

Her lips parted, mouth slightly open, like she was about to say something. But then she pursed them and straightened herself up. “Yeah, I’ll talk to her next time I see her.” 

Finn nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Thank you.”

“I should—” She pointed in the direction of the OR.

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah of course. I’ll see you later.”

***

Rey: On my way to the shop. You’re sure you can’t come?

Ben: They’re keeping me in OR until 6, but shop closes at 5. 

Rey: Ok…do you need to sign off on anything? Since you made the call?

Ben: …

Rey sighed and sat back against the cold bus seat, her eyes drifting up towards the dilapidated buildings and multi-coloured trees. Okay, so he was a ‘friend’ who did a nice thing for her and her car using his membership. Simple enough. But a small voice in her head was still questioning all of this. It was habit at this point, this inherent distrust of Ben, and it was going to take time to break it. Sure he’d given her a ride and helped her when she’d fainted, but he also wasn’t updating her on Skywalker. And now, she still didn’t know what had happened to her car, or how much it would cost to fix it. Ben had saved her the money that it would have cost to get it towed, but he had been vague on the details of the repair all week. Was there something sketchy about this place that he hadn’t told her about? Did he have some kind of deal with them? Oh God, would she show up there to find a pile of scrap metal?

She glanced at the screen, then closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, nostrils flaring at the scent of gas.

Ben: …

Her phone vibrated.

Ben: No it’s fine. If anything comes up tell them I’ll call later.

She thought for a moment to ask whether “them” meant CAA or the auto shop, but before she could think much about which one it could be, the bus groaned to a stop at the intersection. Barely a second later her phone vibrated in her hand, confirming that it did indeed match the address she’d entered. When she stepped off and the bus slowly pulled away from the curb, she glanced across the street just past the line of orange NDP campaign signs for Hamilton’s MP Leia Organa. Just beyond them, she could clearly see the half-faded blue and white sign just above the garage: Millennium Auto Repair.

Slowly, she walked through the gate towards the open door, eyeing the various cars in the lot to see if hers was among them. But just as she turned the last corner, a shadow passed across her vision. Followed by loud enthusiastic barking.

Rey let out a small yelp as an enormous copper lab leapt onto her, its paws nearly reaching her shoulders. She steadied herself, grabbed onto the dog, and then looked into its enormous black eyes. It was panting, its large tongue hanging freely, and fluffy tail wagging behind it.

After she steadied herself, Rey couldn’t help but smile warmly as she felt her heart flutter. “Hey there,” She said cheerily, reaching for the dog’s chin and briefly glancing down under. “You’re a very good boy.” Slowly, she lifted his paws off of her and lowered him to all fours, while she crouched to meets its eyes and continued petting its chin and ear. “What might your name be?”

“Hey kid!”

She looked up. Standing at the door of the garage, half-hidden in the shadows, a tall grey-haired man was walking towards her. “You okay?”

The dog turned its nose to the side and let out a loud, enthusiastic bark, as if to say all good here!

Rey was about to respond with a word or a thumbs up when the dog suddenly raised its paw and put it back on her shoulder.

She made a squeaking sound as he started climbing back onto her. “Hey hey hey that’s okay—”

The man, now a few metres away, gave a short, sharp whistle. “Hey Chewie, off!”

Chewie’s ears immediately perked up. He pulled back and turned to watch him pull something out of his pocket. Rey climbed to her feet as he tossed the filthy tennis ball towards the other side of the shop and the big brown dog trotted off to find it.

“Sorry about that,” said the man. “He usually keeps to himself. He only really gets affectionate with family.” 

When he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkled, immediately putting her at ease. Rey let out a small chuckle and turned back to Chewie, whose nose was to the pavement. “Well then I’m honoured he likes me.”

The man smiled softly as he continued rubbing his hands with the towel, highlighting his crow’s feet. He stood a bit taller than Rey, but his posture was just a little bit off. He must’ve been in his late sixties or seventies. “Sorry I can’t shake your hand, both of mine are still covered in grease.”

She smiled good-naturedly and bowed her head. “Of course.”

“I’m Han, shop owner. What can I do for you, kid?”

“I’m here to pick up my car, a red Toyota, license plate B-B-8 X-9-6-3. It came here with CAA the other day? I’m not the one who made the call, but they said that it was ready?”

The man nodded. “Yes, we’ve got that one in the back. So you are—” He began to trail off, the way that her old teachers would when they had to read her legal name.

“Rey,” She said quickly. “Just Rey.”

The smile widened ever-so-slightly. “Alright, just Rey. Car’s through here.”

They walked together through the labyrinth of assorted car parts, equipment, and a couple of silent employees half-hidden under the bottoms of cars. Chewie bounded after the pair and offered Rey a slobbering tennis ball with an enthusiastic bark, which she graciously accepted before throwing back into the sunlight.

“Gas cap was falling apart,” said Han, tapping the crimson hood with a knuckle. “Lucky for you, we had a few to spare here so it was an easy fix. You should be able to drive this home without any issue.”

“Oh,” She said, relieved that it was so straightforward. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Han chuckled. “I also noticed that you needed an oil change—”

Oh no.

“So I did it, but I see here you’ve got over two hundred thousand kilometres on this thing. When was the last time you got that done?”

The true answer was about ten thousand kilometres ago; twice as much as what he would recommend. Rey stayed silent.

He pursed his lips, then looked to the hood. “Well, it’s taken care of now. Your car’s quite sturdy, but it won’t last forever. The steering wheel should be fixed up, and the brakes are rusting. We’re closing soon so I can’t do a full check-up today, but I wouldn’t recommend leaving it alone for very long. It’ll just cause more problems in the long run.”

Rey pursed her lips. “How much longer do you think it’s got now?”

He looked between them, then shrugged. “I can’t predict the future. I have a car I got forty years ago that’s still somehow kicking. But…I don’t know, if you leave it as is maybe another five thousand?”

She considered the math. Money was already tight this year, with the cutbacks to her student loans and all. She hadn’t been able to afford a real check-up for her car in two years. If she stayed in Hamilton for the foreseeable future, she might be able to squeeze out an extra six months. But at this rate, it’d be dead before graduation for sure.

“Ten, if we get all the kinks out.”

She nodded, dropping her gaze. “I understand. I’ll erm…make an appointment.”

He regarded her for a moment, inquisitively. “Do you drive much for work?”

She shrugged. “Yes, but just within the city these days.” A small pause, a careful glance at his brow. “And it’s not work per se. I’m…I’m a medical student.”

“Ah,” He said. “McMaster or Chandrila?”

She was surprised at the ease of his question. Most people in Hamilton knew next to nothing about her school. “Chandrila.”

He furrowed his brow at that, perhaps sensing the subtext to her words. But then, his expression lightened. “I’ll get you my card on your way out. Call me when you’re ready and I’ll make sure it gets done. Okay kid?”

Rey could barely hide the shock she felt. “Yeah—yeah that’d be great.” She took a slight step back, then felt herself tense at the sensation of fur against her fingers. Chewie was back, tail high and wagging, and looking at Rey like she was his best friend in the world.

Together, the three of them began to weave through the back of the garage towards the main office. “So Rey, what year are you in?” Han asked.

“I just started my third year,” She said. 

He nodded, understanding. “Good for you, kid. My…my son goes to your school.”

“That’s great,” She said automatically, barely registering his words with the scents of rubber and old rusty metal percolating the air within the garage.

“They’re working you hard?”

She blew out a puff of air as they began strolling to the office. “I guess.”

“I mean, the doctors are treating you well?”

She raised an eyebrow at his question, but then pulled back, shrugged and sighed deeply. “I suppose so.”

“Good, good.” Said Han, opening the door to let her and Chewie through. “I’m sure they’re tough, but they all want you to succeed.”

Rey furrowed her brow, a little confused. “Have you spent much time at that hospital?” It probably sounded accusatory, even though she had not intended it to come off that way.

Han, however, just shrugged and motioned for her to come inside. “My family’s been involved with Coruscant for a long time.”

She raised an eyebrow as he pushed past her to grab the keys from her desk. “How so?”

He took a step to the cash register and began typing something in. “My brother in law worked there for years. He helped build their children’s cancer centre from the ground up. As for the rest of us,” He drew in a breath, lips pursing together and eyes scrunching closed. Like he was recalling a memory tinged with both fondness and sorrow. “It’s a long story.”

It took a moment for everything to sink in. As soon as it did, she froze, just as Chewie started nuzzling her palm. What did he just say? Rey blinked, then glanced down. Left, then right, where a few pens, pencils, and paperclips sat in a container and strewn around beside it. Under the pens, she could just make out the corner of a dull but distinctly gold medallion attached to a red and white ribbon.

“I’m sorry,” Rey tilted her head. “What did you say your son’s name is?” She tried to search for some familiar features—his height, nose, crow’s feet, dimples? But just as the question escaped her lips, she saw the small twinkle in his eyes and the crooked smile, and kicked herself for failing to recognize what had been staring right at her the whole time.

“Ben,” Han said. “I take it you two know each other?”

She nodded blankly, while her veins filled with ice. He said it so casually that she wondered if he was just playing dumb, and maybe he’d told his father about her.

“We’re doing surgery together this month,” She said, trying desperately to control her expression. Oh God. Oh God. Her pulse was already racing, and her chest was tightening with every breath. She was talking to Ben’s father. His military pilot father.

“Yes, he called for your car to be towed here.” Though Han Solo’s eyes were still on the cash register, the corner of his mouth twitched up in an all-too familiar way.

He didn’t tell her, why the fuck didn’t he tell her?

“R-right,” She stuttered. “Yeah, he did do that. Didn’t he.” Her heart was starting to beat through her chest, even though the rational part of her brain knew that this was probably something a normal person wouldn’t have thought twice about. But this was her brain, and she couldn’t control the guilt or embarrassment that was starting to eat away at her.

The cash register clicked and opened. 

$20.

Rey blinked in shock. It should have been at least a hundred. “Is there something wrong with the machine?”

Han shook his head. “Nope, that’s all you owe. Call it a ‘family and friends’ discount.” He winked and turned the machine towards her. 

Her hands somehow moved on their own to pull out her credit card and make the payment. She opened her mouth and tried to offer a tip to be polite, but he declined immediately and entered the number into the card machine. 

Somehow, she stuttered out a ‘thank you,’ but he barely seemed to pay it any mind before continuing a conversation with her that she wasn’t even fully aware that she was having. She knelt down every now and then to scratch Chewie behind the ears and on his belly, somehow finding it within herself to respond to his questions as they arose. Was she from Hamilton? What did she think of the school? Oh, she wanted to do pediatrics? Maybe she could get in touch with one of Luke’s former proteges. Dr. Hennix was doing oncology at Sick Kids these days, he could give her some good tips for her residency aspirations.

She took Hennix’s number graciously and carefully put the piece of scrap paper in her pocket, searching for a moment to ask him if he was in touch with Skywalker himself at the moment, since they were apparently so close. She should’ve asked but she didn’t. Perhaps because when she looked at him for too long, she couldn’t help but notice the subtle features that he’d clearly passed onto his son. His long nose, the hint of dimples, the shape of his eyes and furrow of his brows when he spoke. She imagined that in his youth he had been quite handsome.

Perhaps she didn’t ask because she was worried she’d find the answer unsatisfying, regardless of what it actually was. Because really, if he thought Luke was worth talking to, he would have offered to put them in touch himself.

So she let it go, thanked him profusely at least five times as he walked her back to her car, and chased the thoughts away that he seemed like a good caring guy, and probably a good father too. Ben had never given her the impression that he was close with his parents, and the mere thought that he had someone like this in her life made her heart ache ever so slightly. Another thing that she’d never had.

A thought crossed her mind—did Ben ever tell him anything? Is that why he’d charged her so little? But it flitted away before she could even think to breach the subject to his father.

“Thank you so much for doing this,” Rey murmured sheepishly from the driver’s seat, eyeing Han gratefully while he stood just outside.

The old man smiled and nodded. “Come back anytime kid. And give my best to Ben.”

She pursed her lips together into what she’d hoped resembled a smile, then nodded, and drove out of the parking lot.

***

The rest of the week came and went in a blur.

Honestly, that was probably a good thing for her nerves. The more she was forced to focus on school, the less she would bother herself with the stupidity of her situation with Ben. A potential new uncertain path to friendship lined with comical mistakes. The only good thing to have come out of it was that his dad apparently liked her enough to give her the name of an oncologist. But really, what did that matter? Hennix would probably ‘lose track’ of her email like almost every doctor she’d tried to contact.

No, she couldn’t think about that. She needed to focus on the tasks at hand.

Despite the tediousness and back-breaking labour of general surgery, the rotation gave Rey opportunities to focus more on the nature of the job in front of her, what she would be getting into, and how she was going to cope.

She learned something about herself the first day that she was asked to help out at clinic. That is, it made her acutely uncomfortable.

A week ago, with a couple of days of shadowing under her belt, she really would have thought she’d have no trouble nailing it. After all, every student had the basic history-taking script burned into their minds from two years of endless clinical sessions. And Finn and Rose hadn’t mentioned having any issues integrating themselves into the childrens’ outpatient clinics. Finn hadn’t mentioned how he was doing in oncology clinic, but that was a discussion for another time.

Most of the appointments were innocuous; post-op checkups after gallbladder or appendix removals. But a couple of them were genuinely to seek out diagnoses or next steps. One petite  woman in her sixties, pale as a sheet, came in complaining of blood in her stool, rapid weight loss over the past year, and an unshakeable fatigue. She didn’t have a family doctor of her own and had been trying to get a referral for months. Now that she’d finally gotten it she seemed like she already knew what the answer was going to be.

Rey had read the woman’s notes from gastroenterology and thought about them as she wrote down the history. With every line, she stole a glance at the woman, who was nervously playing with her thin, greying hair tied in a limp ponytail.

The blood tests had supported the clinical evidence. The colonoscopy she’d had last week had all but confirmed it. If this exact scenario had been written up for her in a practice question, the answer would have only been colorectal cancer. Easily late-stage, given how much weight she’d already lost.

Knowing that information, she wanted nothing more than to stop writing, walk over to her, and embrace her tight. Tell her what it was and what they were going to do.

But she couldn’t just say that to someone. It wasn’t her place at all.

So, her voice low, she took the notes, left the room, and explained the situation to Dr. Sloane. Then, they returned. Rey stood in the corner of the room silently, her fingertips pressing hard against the side of her leg while Sloane calmly and carefully explained to her patient the results of the colonoscopy before explaining what the surgery would entail and handing her the consent forms.

Rey sat, stone-faced, watching the woman’s trembling hands as she signed the papers and handed them back to her. They were wrinkled, older than they should have looked, and sickly pale.

She nodded, took them back, and met her eyes.

“Dr. Sloane will do everything she can to help you,” She said, feeling a slight edge to her own voice developing. A sharp swallow. A small lump in her throat. “You’re in good hands.”

The woman tried for a smile and a thank you, but it came out as a rasp.

Rey meant to reach forward, just a millimetre, but she stood up suddenly and went out the door, leaving her alone with the consent forms.

“Are those her consent forms?” The nurse aide asked, as if she’d just materialized beside her.

Rey, still a little shell-shocked watching her patient leave, handed the forms and went to her desk. She found it in herself to get a drink of water, steel her breathing, and continue.

Somewhere between stuttering through a discussion with a hostile middle-aged man with biliary colic and dictating post-op appointment records for the colectomy patients, a thought crossed her mind for a brief moment. She wished she was back in the OR. The past few weeks in there had allowed her to develop a familiarity with the environment and expectations. Because there, she didn’t have to banter with strangers or mentally parse how much to say or hide from people who seemed to be perpetually dancing around any of the five stages of grief.

At least in the OR, her challenges mostly came from her supervisors.

Of course, it was still difficult. The first time the surgeons actually gave her the opportunity to suture a wound on her own, her hands couldn’t stop shaking. It should have been simple enough. They’d done a laparoscopic appendectomy, leaving scars about the width of her thumb and about as deep as her fingernail. Once it was done, she knew that the work would be disappointing. Human skin, as it turned out, was much harder to manipulate than the foam they’d used in class last year. It took her five tries to even be able to grip the epidermis with her tweezers, and by the time she was able to poke the needle through with her trembling fingers, the blood had started obscuring her view of the layers. It was an absolute disaster.

Dr. Sloane said nothing for awhile. Long enough that Rey wondered if she was going to ask Phasma to redo it.

“See this?” She pointed to Rey’s suture as she cut the thread. “You went too shallow on the curve and didn’t tighten the knot enough the first time.” 

Rey nodded, mostly disappointed at herself, but still wishing that Sloane didn’t bring it up sooner. She could have salvaged it. “I understand.”

There was a pause. Then, a short sigh. “It’s not bad though,” said Sloane. “You just need more practice. Grab some extra thread from one of the nurses, work on a banana at home, and you can try it again next time.”

Rey nodded, relieved and thankful for the opportunity, and returned to help Phasma put on the rest of the dressing and remove the drapes from the patient’s chest. 

Dr. Reva Sevander, the senior anesthesia resident who’d spent the past two hours manning the ventilator and chatting with Dr. Sloane and Phasma—at one point producing real genuine chuckles out of the two of them—was injecting something into the patient’s veins. Rey watched from a middle distance, vaguely remembering the anaesthetic drugs she’d learned about the year before—the professor had mentioned reversal agents like neostigmine and glycopyrrolate.

Reva was singing quietly to herself at the time, eyes downturned and head bobbing ever so subtly. Rey quickly found herself humming along to that tune as she de-scrubbed, though the melody was not immediately familiar to her. It sounded light and airy, and not unlike something she’d heard long ago. Even as she disposed of the drapes, she found herself watching Reva out of the corner of her eye, a little fascinated by the way that she switched from her quietly singing to loudly and firmly trying to wake the patient.

Rey glanced at Reva from the side of the bed, then looked back at the elderly man, still lying flat and breathing slowly through a tube. “How long does this part usually take?” She asked quietly.

Reva shrugged and leaned down to inject another drug into his IV. “Hit or miss,” She said plainly. “Could take a minute, could take up to twenty.”

“She’s lying, it took forty five minutes one time. I counted.” Said Phasma quickly, without looking up from her notes.

Rey grinned and turned back to Reva. “Really?”

Reva’s brows furrowed and she whirled to Phasma. “Which one—”

“The sigmoid resection last month on call, the one that Sloane and Krennic finished an hour ahead of schedule.”

Reva rolled her eyes and met Rey’s gaze. “When that sort of thing happens, it’s not our fault.”

Phasma laughed dryly, shut the files, and set them at the foot of the bed. “That’s what your lot always say.”

The patient shifted slightly in bed, and Reva put an arm over and shook him quickly and harshly. “Hey Luthen you’re all done!” The old man groaned slowly, drew in a breath, then returned to the pattern from before. Just as quickly, Reva straightened herself and nodded to one of the scrub nurses. “Do we have a bed yet?”

Rey gathered her things and watched silently but curiously as the doctors and nurses made their way through a routine that she’d now seen enough times to recite herself: clean up the drapes, wake up the patient, smoothly extubate in the midst of the patient’s gasps for breath, transfer them from the table to their bed, and wheel it to their designated section of the recovery room for handover.

After she finished stuttering through her part of the handover process, she followed her seniors meekly back to the OR, where she sat on a stool across from Phasma. Meanwhile, Reva was back to her own job, loading up syringes of medications for the next one. Rey peeked over and saw some of the bottles: fentanyl, morphine, rocuronium, propofol, and phenylephrine. She searched her brain for what she remembered about their purposes. They were the core group of substances set aside to force each patient’s consciousness under the surface, paralyze every muscle in their body, and prevent their blood pressure from dropping to dangerous low levels. And though she didn’t want to dwell on it, she knew very well that they’d all been in her body far too many times.

She turned to Phasma, who was on her phone. Suddenly unwilling to wait in silence for a new pop quiz, Rey cleared her throat and asked quietly something that had been in the back of her mind for weeks.

“I never asked, but where did you guys go to medical school?”

“Western,” said Reva plainly, keeping her gaze focused on the meds.

Phasma looked a little surprised. “McMaster. Graduated about eight years ago.”

“Oh,” said Rey. “Wait, eight years ago? But you’re a—”

She shrugged and put her phone in her pocket. “I know. It took some time for me to get here,” As she said those words, she leaned back into her chair and crossed her arms. “It’s not an issue, but I certainly feel like an old lady sometimes.”

Reva laughed wryly behind them. “The interns have taken to calling her Granny.”

Phasma flashed Rey a sharp glare. “Ignore her. If you ever call me that, I will make your life hell.”

Rey just smiled. “Did you always know that you wanted to be a surgeon?”

Phasma shook her head. “Oh, absolutely not. I did a family medicine residency first in St Catherine’s. Then I did an add-on surgical year.* I lucked out and found an open surgery residency spot here a year later.”

“Oh…” She cleared her throat then, recalling the first day she met her. “You never did pediatrics?”

“Not since fourth year of med school,” She shrugged. “I did some interesting electives though. I spent six weeks here in pediatric oncology.”

She nodded, then sighed, recalling their initial meeting. It gave her the opening she needed to actually ask the real question she’d been holding onto. “Is that how you knew Ben Solo?”

“Yeah,” Phasma rolled her eyes. “I worked under his uncle in the spring. Ben left soon after for his PhD, and then I graduated.”

“Did anything…happen?”

Phasma blinked and tilted her head slightly, clearly confused at the question.

“With him and the others on the team. Any drama?”

She gave her a look. “Not that I was aware of. Why do you ask?”

Rey felt herself flush under her mask. “It’s nothing. Just something I heard.” She murmured the latter half to herself, then shook her head. “What made you decide to switch specialties?”

“I realized I preferred working with my hands.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And of course, Rey had been told plenty of times that it was extremely common for people to switch specialties. Something like seventy-five percent of medical students switched preferences before submitting their residency applications, for any number of reasons. But it was admittedly strange to hear it from someone who’d been so far along in her career. She must’ve really loved surgery, with all of its call shifts and general drudgery, to make that change.

"Okay, but--" She stopped herself, uncertain of what she actually wanted to ask.

Phasma seemed to fill in the blanks herself, even if that's not really what Rey was getting at. “Are you thinking of sticking around after your rotation?”

Rey considered the question for a little longer than she would have at one point in her career, then shook her head and met Pharma’s eyes. Relaxing her expression under her mask, she said “I don’t know. I want to do my pediatrics rotation first.”

Phasma nodded, apparently understanding. "You know, if you're debating on which specialty to do, I will give you the same advice that my mentors gave me. Think about the most boring day possible in each department. The most mundane tasks or procedures that you could do. For something like this, it's appendectomies or cholecystectomies. They're our bread and butter. Ask yourself if that's something that you could see yourself doing endlessly and still enjoying your job. If you can, then maybe that's your calling." She paused, perhaps sensing Rey's apprehension. "But you don't need to do that today."

Rey nodded and thought to herself what that might look like for pediatric oncology. Lots of chemo, ward rounds, and planning treatments for kids of all ages. Mostly leukemias. Some crazy tumours. But every day would give her the chance to be with kids, help them feel less alone, and learn more about the disease that had defined so much of her young life. She could see herself doing that...

Suddenly, the phone on the wall began to ring. She answered it, announced the imminent arrival of the patient, and directed Rey out the door to wash her hands. 

Even as she stood between Phasma and Sloane, Rey found herself peeking across the drape to eye Reva as she and her supervisor monitored the patient’s vitals. She was surprised at how deftly the anesthesiologists worked with the medications and notes, just as devoted to their crafts as the surgeons (despite what the parody videos on TikTok had claimed about anesthesiologists and their sudoku puzzles). At some point, she found herself humming together with Reva, nearly silent behind the fabric of her mask. She considered asking her afterwards where the song was from, but when the opportunity presented itself she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Rey’s list of medical specialties pt 3

Plastic surgery

-surgery, but for those freaks who like to do boob jobs and cranial vault reconstructions

Rating: ?/10. Coruscant has no plastics teaching so I will probably never do it.

Radiology

-staring at scans all day in a dark room and figuring out what they mean.

Rating 4/10. The lectures are interesting, not a particularly interesting career trajectory.

Pathology

-see radiology (but with a microscope this time!)

*Note: In Canada, many sparsely populated areas will rely on family doctors to perform higher acuity procedures. So the family medicine residency programs will offer “add-on” programs, like fellowships, where family doctors learn to do more complex procedures. These can include surgery, anesthesiology, emergency medicine, and obstetrics. Thus, a person who lives in the countryside or on a reservation (many of which are a good four or five hours away from a larger city) may rely on a local family doctor instead of a specialist for care.

It’s considered to be both a lucrative career option, and a viable path for doctors who want to pursue complex specialties in more rural community settings.

Chapter Text

Rey was big enough to admit to herself, that yes fine, the bus was sometimes a good idea. Driving home from Han’s place, there had been a few instances of rattling sounds that made her blood run cold. She knew that she needed to do what she could to prolong its lifespan. And if that meant waking up a bit earlier a few days a week and wearing an extra layer of clothes to wait outside, so be it.

She went through the motions in something of a haze, doing her work, being in clinic, catching her breath after rounds, and keeping her eyes out for Ben during the bedside tutorial. He wasn’t in her group, but Jess was, and after days of leaving her on read, Rey felt a distinct pang of awkwardness every time they had to squish together around a patient.

Jess said “Hey” first, a barely audible sound out of the corner of her mouth while they all walked in line behind Dr. Krennic, heads down like a line of monks in mourning.

“Hey,” said Rey.

“So how’s life?” She asked.

“It’s alright.”

“Did you see my text the other day?”

Rey froze. “Yeah,” She said quietly as they began walking up the stairs, both of them trailing behind the rest of the group. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to respond.”

Jess paused, then pursed her lips. “It’s okay,” She said. “I just wanted to know if you were doing alright.”

“I’m fine,” said Rey, tersely.

“I heard that Ben gave you a ride to the hospital. I didn’t think you guys were that close.”

Great, so word had already gotten around. Rey was still mentally planning the speech she was going to give Ben about meeting Han, and now she had this to worry about. There were probably some rumours spreading again about their secret torrid affair or some evolution of their first year rivalry.

But then, just as those thoughts raced through her mind, Rey suddenly realized that she didn’t care about them anymore. She’d already slept with the man, anything that happened after that was her business and her business alone.

She met Jess’s eyes and said, perhaps a bit too harshly. “Is there an issue with that?”

Jess seemed to consider her words carefully as they picked up the pace to rejoin the cluster on the top floor. She seemed unaffected by the exertion, but it was still all Rey could do not to collapse in a heap.

“Not at all,” She finally said. “I’m glad to see you two are finally starting to get along.”

Rey detected a hint of bitterness in her ex’s voice, but before she could think up a witty retort, Jess had snaked her way to the front of the group. They did not speak again for the rest of the session.

As the work day came to a close, she found him in the sparsely Coruscant hospital library, his large frame hunched over a textbook and laptop in a small oak cubicle at the far corner of the room. Even from the door, his dark hair was visible above the sea of pale wooden cubicles.

Rey put a forearm on top of his cubicle and leaned over, casting a shadow over his open textbook. “What are you doing?”

Ben looked up and blinked slowly, as though she’d just awoken him from a nap. “Studying,” He said with a quiet yawn. He looked up sleepily and, realizing who was talking to him, and pushed a few strands of dark hair away from his eyes. “And how have you been?”

“I—“ She began, hoping to say what she’d been rehearsing in her head for hours…but the well-articulated monologue died instantly in the back of her throat. “I’m doing fine.”

Ben nodded, his lips forming a straight line, then began to tilt his head back down.

The words came out in a rush. “Did you know that my car was going to go be towed to your Dad’s shop?”

Ben’s head shot up, his eyes wide.

“Huh,” Rey replied knowingly. “You did, didn’t you? Did you tell him about me? This whole fucking time—”

“Keep it down,” He hissed before pointing to a nearby chair.

With a huff, she brought the little metal thing to his side and sat down, then leaned in and whispered: “Did you tell CAA to tow my car directly there?”

He sighed, exasperated and ran his fingers through his hair. “I did not,” He said in a low growl. “It was close enough to your house and open at that hour. And even if I did, I didn’t tell him anything. He probably saw that I made the call and made his own assumptions about who you were.”

She narrowed her eyes, suspicious. “He made his assumptions and basically gave me my car for free. What am I supposed to take from that?”

“What are you talking about?”

Rey was bewildered. “He knew we know each other. He gave me a ‘family and friends discount’.” She punctuated the sentence with angry air quotes.

“I do not know what you’re getting at here.”

Rey groaned, dropped her head, then looked up and leaned in, dropping her voice barely above a whisper. “I just want to know if you told him about me or told him to give me a discount.”

Ben’s gaze was steely. “I did not.”

“Really?” 

He nodded. “Really.”

“He’s your father, you don’t tell your parents about these things?”

Ben sighed, exasperated, then closed his eyes and looked to be counting to three. “First, I am a thirty year old man. Second, I have barely spoken to most of my family since—Fuck, at least the last seven years. This wasn’t me.”

Rey said nothing.

“So why would he have done that?”

Ben raised his shoulders. “Fuck…I don’t know. Maybe he was trying to be kind. Maybe he likes you. Are you always so ungrateful when people do nice things for you?”

Rey felt her cheeks flush, remembering the OR incident. “That’s not what I mean.”

“And what exactly do you mean?”

She looked to the side, feeling her cheeks grow blazing hot with embarrassment. “I could have afforded it.”

“Yeah, you’re a medical student. Technically you can afford a lot of things. And then you won’t be able to afford it on your 60K resident’s salary, and the bank will come and take it all away.”

Rey squeezed her eyes shut. “I mean, I don’t want…” She opened them, feeling her breathing begin to tremble, then said “I don’t need charity from your family, okay? I can take care of myself.”

She could not properly place his expression, but he seemed to display several in quick succession—bewilderment, frustration, understanding, guilt—all in the shadows and light flecks in his eyes and furrows between his brows.

He swallowed hard before he finally responded. “I understand.”

She lowered her head, suddenly feeling a sting in her chest, like a dagger of guilt or shame. She didn’t need to say that to him, but now it was out and he could do with that information whatever he wanted.

So, again, he surprised her when he put his hand on her shoulder. She looked up to find their faces mere inches apart from each other, and suddenly became mindful that their view of the rest of the library was obscured by the wooden walls around his desk.

“Rey,” He said quietly. “I know that you don’t want people to feel sorry for you. Trust me, I understand that better than anyone.”

She drew in a sharp, nervous breath, then instinctively tucked her hands between her thighs. They were shaking, were they really shaking?

“I have nothing but respect for you, alright? But you cannot live your life pushing people away and refusing any act of kindness. Please believe me when I say that it will only end badly.”

As Rey pulled back and Ben’s hand slipped off her shoulder, she felt her heart begin to flutter rapidly. “I—” She bit her lip, glancing to the side where his arm had just been. She hated this, that he could read her like a book. He understood why she was the way that she was even when she couldn’t quite admit it to herself.

“I understand,” She finally said. “Can we just start this conversation over?”

His features softened instantly, and he nodded. “Of course.” He nudged his head towards his laptop. “Hello Rey, how are you doing? If you’re going to stay in the library, would you like to see who can get more questions right?”

Rey found herself smiling. “I would be delighted.”

She leaned in, mindful that her head was only a couple of inches away from his ears, and let her heart run wild before settling with each practice question. She wondered if his heart was pounding too, but his face betrayed nothing of the lust she’d seen that night.

They got into an argument on the fifth question. Rey thought the answer was A, he thought it was B. It was about treatment methods for kidney stones, and they couldn’t decide whether the lithotomy was used in cases where the stone was less than 10mm across.

Ben decided he was right and entered it, only to meet a big fat X.

Rey snickered jokingly and nudged his shoulder. “What did I tell you?”

He turned his gaze on her, a smile creeping across his lips. “You’re an enormous smartass, did I ever tell you that?”

She almost wanted to say yes, with your eyes at every PBL session but bit her tongue instead.

After one of the very exhausted residents asked them, politely but shakily, to leave or be more quiet, they found their way to an empty study room typically employed for clinical exams. They agreed to practice after the question block. Following a whirlwind of information and a combined score of 75%—they gave up on ‘competing’ after the tenth question—Ben closed the laptop and both of them sat back in their chairs and took a breath, staring at the ceiling.

Suddenly, she heard a phone vibrate.

She watched as Ben sighed and checked his phone.

“Hmm,” He said, raising a brow.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s…Luke.”

Rey nearly snapped her neck as she straightened and pulled in closer to the table. “He responded?”

Ben narrowed his eyes at his phone. “Yeah,” He said in a low voice, as though uncertain of what he was reading. “He says thanks, he’s in New York right now, I guess for some conferences…”

“Didn’t you tell me he retired?”

“He did,” Ben clarified. “But a lot of doctors don’t truly retire until they’re dead. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of his Sloan Kettering buddies invited him.”

“That’s fair,” She concurred. “Does it say anything else?”

“Yeah,” He began to say slowly. “It looks like he’ll be back in Caledonia in a couple of weeks…” Suddenly, he took a breath, which made Rey’s heart immediately flutter with apprehension.

Ben’s gaze rose from the phone to hers, and instantly, his brows softened. He hurriedly clicked off the phone and stuffed it into his pocket. “He can meet you then, but said we can make the actual arrangements after he’s back and settled in.”

Rey was flabbergasted. She didn’t even ask him to read the email or provide any burden of proof for what he’d just told her, she was just shocked that he’d actually said yes. Something in her heart was dancing with joy and wonder and excitement at the thought of seeing Dr. Skywalker again. She wanted to climb over the table and kiss Ben, but held off, knowing that such a move would probably end with her in a puddle of tears and be nothing but awkward for both of them.

“It’s already four o’clock,” said Ben. “Want to keep studying? We should practice some of the clinical exams.”

Rey contemplated his offer for a few seconds, knowing full well that she didn’t have any other plans for the evening. “Yeah, let’s do it. Have you got a case in mind?”

Ben crossed his arms and looked up. “Yeah, I’ve got something.”

She pursed her lips and nodded, then sat up straight and mimicked washing her hands. “Okay, I’m Dr. Johnson, and I’ve been asked to come in and chat with you today.” She rested her chin on her hands and offered a small, mischievous smile. “Before we start, can I get your name and date of birth?”

Ben opened his mouth, closed it again, then stared at her, like she had asked him some impossible question about the treatment algorithm for tumefactive demyelination.

“I am—” His great brown eyes darted around nervously for a moment before returning to meet hers. “Kyle…Ron. Forty-five years old.”

Rey couldn’t help but snicker. “Kyle Ron?” 

Ben chuckled and shook his head, as if remembering some old personal joke or story. “Just keep going.”

“Okay Kyle Ron, what brings you into the clinic today?”

He considered for a moment what he wanted to turn the scenario into, then pointed a few centimetres away from his Adam’s apple and said “I have this lump in my neck and I was wondering if you could help me figure out what it is.”

Rey felt her heartbeat flutter oh ever so slightly, and shuffled her chair closer to him. Slowly, delicately, she leaned in and gently craned her head towards his neck. It was a nearly unconscious movement, absolutely inappropriate for a clinical exam, but she caught herself just in time and began the steps of the clinical exam. On inspection, all seemed fine.

“You see some asymmetry, like a slight bulging on the left side of my neck.” He then said, pointing to the corresponding region.

Rey complied and put her hands gently to his neck, knowing full well that it was nearly impossible to do this with him. Fuck, how had so many of her classmates managed to keep their cool during OSCE practice while they were hooking up?

She shook her head and placed her fingers on the corresponding spot on his neck. “Okay, so what am I feeling?”

“Well you need to actually rub it first,” He said matter-of-factly.

Rey held her breath and began to do exactly that.

“It’s hard and lumpy,” He said. “Likely multifocal.”

“Fantastic,” said Rey. Then, she placed her fingers on his Adam’s apple. “Now please swallow for me.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Rey instantly let out a snort so loud that she had to pull her hand off of him to stop herself from making another sound.

Ben tilted his head down, seemingly unfazed, though his dimples were clear as day. “What are you doing? You told me to swallow.”

Rey couldn’t help herself. She snorted again, then let out a small yelp as he took her hand and put it back to the spot on his neck where she’d placed it before. “Stop it—why are you dong this?”

His grin widened. “Doing what?”

Oh he fucking knew exactly what he was doing. He was fucking with her. Trying to get a rise, trying to get her to laugh and loosen up. And it was working. She shook her head, then scrunched her eyes shut and placed the back of her knuckles to her mouth to keep from dissolving into uncontrollable fits of laughter.

“Is something wrong?”

Rey opened her eyes, wiped a stray tear, and gazed into his. In a swift series of movements, she shook her head and pat him on the shoulder good-naturedly. “It’s just—” She stifled a giggle and smiled in a way that she so rarely could, in a way that made her jaw ache. “I would absolutely fail if this were the real exam.”

***

They studied together again at the library on Friday afternoon, and again on Sunday, each time systematically reviewing the material that would be on the surgery exams while Rey tried her best not to get distracted by the absurdity of her situation. Finn had told her to set some boundaries between them, and here she was spending hours on end close enough to touch him, all in the name of academics.

It was maddening.

Each day, they would spend nearly five hours together, facing each other with only a small wooden table to separate their bodies, nearly twice the length of her full arm and seemingly half of his. She tried at first to maintain some distance by keeping her laptop open enough to cover her lips. Perhaps, she imagined, she could stop his eyes from lingering when she pursed or bit them, or showed a hint of a smile. She glued her fingers to the keys, not to type real notes or make any use of the internet at their disposal, but largely so that she wouldn’t be caught brushing her fingers against his in another moment of weakness. Because, no matter how much she might deny it, she knew the all-too familiar way that her heart would flutter when they were close enough for her to smell his pine-scented cologne, track his breaths like he was on the operating, and trace the lines and marks that formed constellations across his face and neck.

She knew that she needed to be consistent in what she’d said, but she also knew that she was not strong enough to resist it again. The ever-present pull that made her want to stay near him as though they were tied together by an invisible string. The cool, pleasurable shivers that went up her spine when he moved in close and brushed his hand against her skin. The embers that bloomed into flames of desire in her heart when his lips pressed against her lips, her neck, her body.

Rey had to stop herself multiple times in the midst of those thoughts and find distractions in surgical diagrams on her laptop. As long as she held off now, she could get it all out of her system at home alone. Ben’s expression never betrayed a vestige of an emotion, certainly not the almost violent lust that had so clearly overcome him in the past. But she did wonder if he still felt it when they were practicing their shoulder exams. She caught his eye at one point, and though initially stunned at his lack of response to her externally rotating his large and firm arm, she found herself thinking about the moment long after.

Was Ben Solo still mad at her outburst about the car? Was he truly so effective at turning off his carnal desires? Or did he still harbour a wish to continue where they’d left off the other night? And if he was faking his sudden lack of interest, was that for his own benefit or to make her feel better? Because if he were to break first and ask her, she would let him take her right there on the table.

Tumultuous sex hormones aside, when the second study day came to a close and the sun began to dip below the treetops, Rey finally got up the courage to silently admit that she did, in fact, like hanging out with Ben.

They had spent months of PBL acting petty and competitive with one another, with his sullen, patronizing words and her snarky, less-than-witty comebacks. It was no wonder, in hindsight, that the others would often let out small groans when they opened their mouths unprompted. No wonder most the group hadn’t wanted them around. Except Jess, she reminded herself, though the mere thought filled her with a bitter sort of longing.

But here, two years later when it was just the two of them, quizzing each other and making up cases without guidance or limitations beyond that which they could impose on each other…it felt easy. Productive, even.

They developed a sort of rhythm to their banter; a lightning-fast efficiency in their exchanges. He would offer a topic and create a character, she would guess the disease and they would walk together through the steps of the processes:

1. Cause and clinical features.

If she named a genetic cause, he would ask her to name related diseases and their underlying genetics.

2. Diagnostics and differentials.

If he suggested a chest X-ray and CT, she would throw him a curveball and say that the CT was booked. What else would he need?

3. Treatment, complications, and prognosis.

What medications? Which surgery would be the most reasonable option? What complications could arise, and how could we deal with them? Is it worth calling the attending, or can you fix that at 3 in the morning?

Within two days, they’d covered as much material as Rey had done in three weeks, all with the confidence and synchronicity of telepaths. She felt like she knew the material in a way that she had not before, and Ben in turn looked startlingly relaxed and satisfied with their progress.

As they concluded their review of kidney stones, Rey and Ben closed their laptops in unison. For a moment, the room was quiet and the air between them felt thick with humidity and tension. They were exhausted, mentally and physically. Ben sat back in his chair and let out a short exhale.

“Good work today,” he said, tilting his head to the ceiling. “You did really well.”

Rey leapt to her feet without a word, abruptly turning her attention to her backpack. “You too,” She murmured nervously. “I know tomorrow’s a holiday, so shall we take a break and meet up later this week?”

“Sure, but—” He stopped, and she looked up expectantly. “Do you have to be anywhere right now?”

Rey blinked. “I was going to catch a bus home, I didn’t drive today.” There’d been a slight rattle when she drove home the night before and it was still weighing on her conscience.

“Do you have any plans for the day off?”

“More studying.” She said plainly. Rose and Finn were visiting their families for the long weekend and the group chat had been eerily quiet. She wasn’t going to try to initiate any social interactions until she could learn more about what was going on between them.

He nodded slowly, then let out a sigh as though he were gearing up to tell her that she’d said something absolutely inane.

But he surprised her when asked “Do you like movies?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you like movies? As in, do you want to watch one? With me?”

Rey could only meet him with stunned silence. Movie. Together. Was he asking her on a date? She stared at him for a moment, taking in his outfit. A long-sleeve black sweater and jeans. The sweater had a small hole in it, just under his ribs on the right. She was wearing a ratty old grey t-shirt and green hoodie on top of black jeans so old and washed out that they looked grey. Not date clothes.

She craned her neck, confused. “You want to go to the theatre?”

“I was thinking my place actually.” He paused, then straightened, as if he still needed to get up the courage to ask. “Would you like to come over?”

Okay, boundaries, she needed to set boundaries. This was the time for real boundaries. Just say no. “Are you actually asking me to watch a movie or ‘watch a movie’?” She used air quotes to punctuate the latter half of the question.

Ben shook his head. “I really mean watch a movie. I…” He drew in a breath, then met her eyes and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t really have any friends here. Poe and Hux visit when they can, but that’s rare this year. Otherwise I do not have that much going on. And since we agreed to be friends and have already spent the entire weekend together, I thought it would be a good way to wind down. Together.”

She must have said a word like yes, sure, okay, potentially, or fuck me, because ten minutes later they were sitting in his car blasting Talking Heads and singing off-key together. Yes, she was kicking herself for not holding fast and saying no to him. But, part of her argued that this was not the same as a nervous agreement and desire to please. She generally preferred to be with people instead of being at home alone, and yes, it was getting easier to be with him with each passing day. They’d set their new boundaries and so far it was working. And she liked being with him platonically. As study partners. People trying to be friends. Ben Solo was a smart guy. He was in fact reasonably kind and considerate and funny and something of a genuine human being.

She caught him grinning at least four or five times that weekend alone. When Psycho Killer faded to a close and Highway to Hell began, she thought to herself six.

And it made her smile too.

But the sight of his apartment looming up before her, lined with the glow of the setting sun in the crimson sky, made her breath catch in her throat.

Rey climbed out alongside Ben as he parked by the entrance, silently followed him up, her heart racing with apprehension. This was a bad idea, wasn’t it? What was she trying to prove coming here? She couldn’t just be friends with him, she wanted to sleep with him too much. She wanted his connections too much. At some point he’d realize what she was doing and it would all be over.

Ben didn’t seem to register her nervousness. She stood silently a couple of metres behind him, hands tucked in her jacket pockets, watching immobilized as he opened the door.

He turned towards her after a beat, and as if he sensed her apprehension, he seemed to suck in a breath. His gaze softened as he fixed it on hers.

“You have an out whenever you want. I swear on my life I will not try anything. If you decide you want to leave, tell me and I’ll make sure you get home safely.”

She almost wanted to laugh at his sincerity but held back, knowing how such a response would be misconstrued. He was…really trying to make this work, wasn’t he? The gesture struck Rey as being so kind that she nodded, relaxed her shoulders, and followed him up the stairs with a new spring in her step.

“So what kind of movie are you thinking of watching?” She asked once she’d caught her breath at the top.

Ben shrugged and unlocked the door. “I don’t know, I was just thinking to scroll through Netflix for twenty minutes and see.”

Before she could respond, he touched something beside the door and kissed his fingers, before murmuring to himself in Hebrew. Immediately, he turned to her. “Do you have any genres in mind?”

Rey considered it as she removed her jean jacket, glancing at the mezuzah and suddenly feeling a strange pang in her chest. “I don’t know, I like a good comedy—” Ben held out his hand for her jacket. “Thanks,” She said, watching as he placed it delicately on a hanger.

“Raunchy or romantic?”

“Both, I suppose.” She shrugged and bent down to untie her laces. “I watch a lot of thrillers too. And anime.”

“Oh, like Pokemon?”

Rey shot up and placed a hand on her chest dramatically. “Pokemon? Is that truly the only anime that you know?”

Ben furrowed his brow in confusion. “Is that a problem? I used to have a Gameboy, I played a ton of Pokemon.”

Rey scoffed and raised her chin. “Yes, and I had a DS, but there are more anime than that.”

“Yeah, I know. I would also watch Dragonball and that one with the ninja kids.”

“Naruto.”

Ben tilted his head teasingly, which made Rey’s cheeks go hot. “It’s named after a fish cake?”

Oh, she realized. He was being playful. Nope, that wouldn’t do at all. Pushing past him, she found the couch and immediately climbed over to look for the remote, nearly forgetting that he’d been inside her on that spot less than two weeks prior.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to find us an anime movie to watch. You are clearly too out of touch with the youth of today.” 

He snorted. “‘Youth of today.’” He said mockingly. “I assume by that you mean yourself and Rose Tico?”

She ignored him, turned the TV to Netflix and immediately began to scroll through the options. Instantly, she noticed that the last ten movies he’d seen were all mafia and crime lord movies, something about the Zodiac Killer, and You’ve Got Mail.

Ben stalked around to the side of the couch and sat on the armrest, crossing his arms. “I don’t think you’re going to find much in the way of anime, we should try something else.”

She could begrudgingly admit that he was right with that one. Almost all of the movies listed were part of larger franchises or made for children. There was one that she hadn’t seen, but the description had said that it was about a teenage girl falling in love and then dying of pancreatic cancer. She switched back to live-action films.

“That one looks interesting,” said Ben suddenly.

Rey had accidentally stopped at a movie under comedy. It looked like a pretty interesting summertime whodunnit style mystery. And Kate Hudson was in a bikini, bonus.

“Want to watch it?” She said.

“Possible, but what’s the anime next to it?”

“Oh—” She stammered, returning her gaze to the screen, where the remote took her to an image of two boys standing in front of a giant apple. “Death Note. You would love it.”

“Why would you say that?”

“It’s a really nice light watch. You’ve got secret identities, cat and mouse games between cops and murderers, and palpable homoerotic tension between the two male leads.”

“Ah,” said Ben with a serious nod. “These are indeed a few of my favourite things.”

“Do you want to watch it now?”

He seemed to consider the option of binging the thirty or so episodes with her, but then shook his head and slid down onto the far cushion, tilting his gaze towards her. “I’d rather start some other day. I strongly suspect that you would spend the whole time yapping in my ear about plot twists and translation errors.”

“I would not!”

Ben shot her a playful glance.

Rey rolled her eyes in response. “Yes okay, I talk during movies sometimes. But promise I won’t say a word. If you don’t believe me, then strap me down to a chair and duct tape my mouth shut.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that an invitation?”

She dropped her gaze, suddenly feeling something bubble in her chest.

Ben chuckled softly. “Maybe we should watch something you haven’t seen.”

“Fine,” She huffed. “Then let’s keep looking.”

As she continued to pour through the options, Ben sighed and sat back, spreading his arms just far enough to barely graze her shoulder. “That’s a pretty good one,” He said suddenly, pointing to the screen. Something about siblings coming together for their father’s funeral.

Rey clicked away. “Not interested.”

“It’s a decent movie,” said Ben. “I watched it years ago. And I’ve been told it’s pretty accurate to the adult sibling experience.” Then, he paused. “Do you have any siblings?”

Rey shook her head and kept her gaze to the screen, supporting her head with one hand. “No, just me and Mum. How about you?”

“Just me.”

“Cousins?”

“Nothing.”

She turned towards him. “Your uncle doesn’t have kids?” It came out so suddenly that she couldn’t even think to stop herself.

Ben dodged her gaze, though his mouth slowly opened, as if he wanted to speak but some unseen force was trying to mute him.

“You don’t have to tell me, I completely get if that’s private. I just always assumed he had.”

“No, no it’s fine.” He lowered his gaze ever so slightly. “He…” He pursed his lips together, and his Adam’s apple bobbed ever so subtly. “He had a son, Anakin.”

Had. Such an innocuous word, but when conjugated to past tense and told in such a context, it made her blood run cold.

“Anakin was a few years older than me, but…” He drew in a deep breath. “He passed away when I was eight.” His mouth tightened into a thin line, and then he gave her a small shrug. “It was a freak case of CML. They’d been living in Toronto at the time, so he was at Sick Kids for almost a year. It really fucked up everyone in the family. Luke got divorced and moved to Caledonia.”

“Oh,” said Rey sheepishly. She stiffened at the the instinct to say I’m sorry, or are you okay? Words that always made a sickening little shiver go down her spine when directed towards her and Mum.

Ben must have sensed her shift, so he continued. “Honestly, it’s been so long that I don’t remember much about him. After it happened, he really threw himself into his job and, well…” He clicked his tongue. “Yeah.” He met her eyes once more, a shadow seemingly passing over his warm brown eyes. “I think part of him thought that he owed it to people to save as many kids as he could.”

She nodded, already feeling herself drifting closer. As upsetting as this new information was, she couldn’t deny the strides he’d made in his career over the past couple of decades. She’d memorized his page when he was still employed by Coruscant hospital. He was never formally attached to any one school, though he had done work with McMaster, UofT, and Chandrila. His list of research papers and awards was seemingly never-ending. She knew that she wasn’t the only one who looked upon him with awe.

Ben was closing the gap, matching her pace.

Slowly, she pulled back, took a deep breath and turned back to the screen. “So, maybe we should just stick with Kentucky Sherlock Holmes here.”

That, in turn gave Ben the out he was apparently looking for.

“Do you want a snack or anything? I have some microwave popcorn, or Ruffles in the cupboard. Barbecue flavoured.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again and nodded. “Ruffles sound great.” 

As he lumbered over to the kitchen, Rey stood up too, wanting to do something other than wait for him. Looking around the room, it occurred to her then that this was the first time she’d had real access to his life with the lights on, beyond school or sex. Her eyes fell on a tall glass table in the corner that seemed to be his desk. Or perhaps his dining room table.

She passed a glance at a few items neatly arranged on the surfaces. Pens, papers, books, all in piles on the table,  a few small bottles of pills and supplements carefully arranged in the corner of the windowsill, and a stray box of cigarettes nearby. When she was sure that he wasn’t looking her way, she quickly picked up one of the orange bottles and hazarded a glance at the contents. Wellbutrin was written across the top label. Immediately, she put it back where it had been. She doubted he was the only guy in her class taking that one for the stress of medical school alone. She’d done alright for herself in the past with Lexapro…though she hadn’t bothered refilling her prescription since she’d been at McMaster.

But then, just as she was about to turn back to the couch, something in the corner caught her eye. It initially seemed to be a small bookmark poking out of a pharmacology textbook, lined with a few shades of blue and black. But it was thicker than the paper, and when she pulled it out, she saw what it really was. A butterfly, a little bigger than her palm, made of a mix of several shades of blue, white, and black beads.

Perler beads. That was they were called. You would use tweezers to arrange the colours onto a plastic template, then iron the design, melting and merging the beads to create a solid and pixelated image.

Had he made this? She had only ever seen them used in two places. Summer camp and…

“What are you doing?”

Rey whirled, startled, to see Ben standing by the couch holding a bowl in one hand and a large bag of the potato chips in the other.

She blinked slowly, then held up the butterfly. “Where did you get this?”

“Coruscant,” He said quietly. Then, his expression shifted to something unrecognizable. Perhaps even hopeful. He raised an eyebrow and gestured a bowl towards her hand. “I made it in the children’s lounge years ago. Do you remember—?”

Rey blinked, then glanced at the table and gingerly set the butterfly atop it. “I…” She remembered, if only for a moment, the feeling of the crimson beads in her ice-cold hands. Adjusting them on the grid and and wincing slightly from the sting that came from the IV in her hand—no, arm—maybe both or neither. “Yeah.” She furrowed her brow as another image flashed through her mind. Other people around her making beads. Someone carefully arranging blue ones across the table. The edge of that memory was frayed. Skywalker once told her that brain fog was a common side effect of chemo.

“I used to make them too.” She said, just as the taste of metal rose to the back of her mouth like bile. There were usually one or two other people around her at that activity table, fellow exhausted patients and overly cheerful volunteers. But their faces were all obscured by the shadows in her mind, like cigarette burns on photographs.

She swallowed hard, then turned to meet his gaze. “It’s a very nice butterfly.” She said, lifting her hand from the table. “You did a great job.”

Ben looked uncertain for a moment, as though he wanted to say something to that. Rey met his eyes expectantly, but as his head dipped and shoulders fell, anything within her that had hoped for elaboration dissipated. 

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded, kneeling down to set the food on the coffee table. “Of course.”

Rey took a slow, trembling breath, chest tightening with anxiety.“You never told anyone that you knew about me from Coruscant, right?”

He seemed offended at the question. “The thought never crossed my mind.”

She let out a small sigh of relief.

“Were you really worried I would? I didn’t think it was anyone else’s business.”

Rey took a step back and dipped her head guiltily. “I think…I was naive and paranoid when we met in first year. I…still am, and I’m sorry about that. When you told me that you knew, and especially when you knew my name, I thought you were going to tell people.”

Slowly, he lowered himself to the couch, his expression unreadable. “Rey…” He said, leaning over to run his fingers through his dark hair. “I’m not going to act like I did a good job at talking to you. And I’m truly sorry that I ever made you feel that way. But this isn’t high school. We are all in a field where confidentiality is paramount. You understand that you never had anything to worry about.”

“I get it.”

“Even if they did find out somehow, I doubt anyone would care. No normal person gets into medical school.”

“I get it.” She snapped.

He sighed and looked up. His gaze struck her immediately as both hardened and youthful, as though he could not decide whether to comfort or berate, provoke or embrace.

“Is there something I’m missing?” He asked.

Rey stared at him, suddenly struggling to keep down a wave of nausea and tears. “Just please don’t ever tell anyone about that stuff.” She said. “Promise.”

“I promise I won’t.”

At those words, the tension between them relaxed. Rey let her shoulders fall, Ben let himself settle into the cushions, and without any more preamble, she took a seat on the couch close to the armrest, and motioned towards the screen. “Alright, then let’s do this.”

“Yes, let’s see if the Brit playing the southerner can indeed figure out all of the clues.” Ben said teasingly.

They dimmed the ceiling lights and pressed play. The movie began with its logic puzzles and they laughed, picked at the chips, and agreed that in a game of ‘fuck-marry-kill’ they would do Kate-Janelle-Kathryn in that order. Then Leslie-David-Edward. Rey inhaled half the bowl without blinking, and he went to get the popcorn without a complaint. Ben pointed out that one of the younger actresses looked a bit like Jess in their class. Rey shrugged and denied it, even though the resemblance was uncanny. Neither of them made any moves for the first half hour. Forty minutes later, she could feel herself getting antsy. She couldn’t find a comfortable position to settle into, and her thighs kept rubbing together uncomfortably, moisture building up between them. She was acutely aware that her body wanted to do more than just sit there. And with each instance she caught herself staring at his profile, she knew that she was getting closer and closer to breaking.

Then a few things happened in sequence. A yawn. A titter. A mutual glance. Rey shifting. A forearm wrapping around her shoulders. Rey shifting again. The contact growing more intimate with each passing second.

It happened too quickly for her to process. Hand on far shoulder, head on shoulder, hand on thigh, glance. His eyes, warm and deep and reflecting all the colours of light emanating from the screen. Neither turning away.

He leaned in first, barely an inch, though the scent of him still made Rey shiver and part her lips slightly. Slowly, raised a hand towards her chest, and she began to close her eyes, thinking (hoping, praying) that he would touch her cheek, pull her in, kiss her and put her out of her misery. But he just moved a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Rey opened her eyes and looked at him, wanting desperately for him to keep going, her heart suddenly pounding through her chest. Something must’ve startled him, because in that same moment he pulled his hand away from her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

Even with the TV blaring behind them, she could see his cheeks turning red. “I know that I invited you here as a friend. I said that I wouldn’t try anything. And already…” He lowered his voice and reached for her ear again, his hand freezing centimetres away. “I’m having trouble controlling myself.”

“Really?” She bit her lip suggestively and tilted her chin towards him. “What is it you wish you could do?”

He did not hesitate. “I wish I could carry you right now to my room and make you feel like a queen.”

Rey smiled, a little validated that he was the one to break first. “Even though I’m what—an ungrateful smartass?”

“The biggest,” He said, his mouth curving upwards, almost mischievously. “But you are you. And that’s more than enough for me.”

Rey let out a tremulous sigh, desire flickering through her chest and into her throat. “If I say yes, will you rewind the movie after?”

 Ben smiled, but then his expression softened to one of concern. “You can say no. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You’re not making me uncomfortable at all.” She whispered, reaching up to touch his hand. Instantly, their fingers laced together, warm and secure. They closed the gap together and kissed, this time softly and delicately. He seemed reserved initially, unwilling to push too much, but savouring the moment as much as he could. She did the same, placed her hand on his cheek, causing him to tremble, before a strangled gasp escaped the back of his throat.

They deepened the kiss, his hand drifting to the back of her neck, her throat, and her chest. Rey took his hand and let him squeeze it, causing her to let out a small gasp. She shifted her weight and climbed on top of his thighs, straddling them together as she held onto his head with both of her hands. His hands crept down to the small of her back, her waist, her hips as she began to move them back and forth and the moisture began to build to a distinct and familiar wetness.

Ben murmured to himself something like a curse or a prayer and snuck his fingers down the seam of her pants and underwear, until she shivered at the feeling of his fingers searching for an opening, brushing against her clitoris.

“Is that okay?” He whispered.

Rey nodded and kissed him again, then suddenly stopped herself, opened her eyes, and pulled back. “Are we already ruining this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Being friends. We shouldn’t be having sex if we’re trying to be friends.”

Ben surprised her by diving in to kiss her, but she forced him to straighten at lightning speed. She trembled anxiously, mindful of the lust quickly overtaking her rational thoughts, and held his face for dear life.

“Do you want to stop?”

“No, but does this…mean anything to you?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Does it actually matter?”

It does. It does to me. “I want to be friends. I’m not ready for a relationship.” She murmured, gently stroking his cheek with one hand. 

“I’m not looking for one either.” He took hold of her hips again and pulled her in a little closer, leaned in and kissed her collarbone. 

Rey shuddered with pleasure and reached down to clumsily undo his belt. “But I want this. I want you.”

Ben suddenly surprised her by bringing his hand to her cheek and tenderly brushing his thumb from her nose to the edge of her lashes. As if to savour every part of her expression, like she was a ghost or spectre that he was desperately trying to keep tied to the mortal plane.

He pulled her in. “So let’s do both.” He whispered against her lips.

She pushed him off suddenly at the suggestion, and they locked eyes, both taking a moment to catch their breaths. “You mean that? Like a friends with benefits thing?”

“Yeah,” He murmured lazily, pulling her in for another embrace. “Yeah, that works for me.”

It took them, in the end, an extra hour to finish the mystery. When it was over and they spent a good half hour snacking on popcorn and debating the thematic weight of the Da Vinci motifs, they went right back at it for another half hour until they were both laying in his bed, staring at the ceiling, and she was wishing that time would stop and she could savour this feeling forever.

***

When Rey returned home, it was nearly two in the morning. The sky was clear and the full moon was shining brightly above her building. Ben dropped her off right at the front door, waited for a moment, then said. “I’ll see you later?”

She nodded, then kissed him on the cheek, making them both blush. “See you later.” She opened the door, climbed out and grabbed her bag, then quickly walked to the other side. Just as she was about to turn, she heard him say:

“Rey—”

She whirled to face him sitting a few feet away, suddenly feeling her heartbeat quicken. Stupid—she shouldn’t have been feeling like this still at the sound of his voice, but she felt like it was okay. It was okay when it was him.

Lowering his window further, Ben opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head and pursed his lips together. “I really do like spending time with you.”

“Me too.” She said sincerely. Friends with benefits. That was what her life had suddenly become. What their relationship had suddenly become.

“And you’re always welcome at my place.”

Rey froze. Her brain furiously fought back the urge to take a step towards him, kiss him again, get back in his car and speed back the way they came. She wanted the benefit of his place so so badly, but she already felt ashamed of herself for so quickly giving into the same habit she’d had with Jess and her undergrad hookups. He didn’t deserve this. He deserved better than her.

All she could say was: “I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

Ben waved her goodbye as she opened the door, then slowly began to drive off.

 Heart pounding, she climbed the flight to her apartment, ignoring the shortness of breath and mild chest tightness that came over her at the top, then tiptoed to her door. She closed it carefully behind her, as though any of her neighbours were actually going to pay attention to her antics.

Then, as if in a trance, she walked to the last door in the hallway, stopping to stare for a moment at the peeling off-white paint. As the tight sensation continued to grow, Rey took hold of the ice-cold doorknob, turned it, and pushed it open.. Her nostrils immediately flared from the odour that emanated from her mother’s old room. A thin layer of dust and mould covered most of the surfaces, from the bare yellowing mattress to the old shelves and window that had long been rusted shut. All of those particles and memories, lingering in the air and accumulating on surfaces, waiting to be released by the smallest of movements. Taking a deep breath, she climbed over the dust-covered trash and discoloured sheets until she reached the closet and pried the door open. After all these years, it was still stuffed to the brim with old shirts, dresses, and trinkets. And all the way in the back, hidden in the shadows, was the dark grey box that she’d never thought she’d ever open again.

It bore no name or label of any sort. At one point, Mum had labelled it something like “Coruscant souvenirs” before Rey had bitterly ripped off the tape and stuffed it at the back of the closet. She couldn’t remember what she’d said, or even when the argument had happened. But it had been an argument and she had said something hurtful. That, she knew in her heart.

Really shouldn’t have done that, she thought sadly, brushing her hand across the top of the lid and imagining the letters had been carved in. Imagining her mother’s handwriting.

With an uncertain breath, Rey pried off the lid and began to dig through the contents. An old gown or two, a few pink, blue, and bright yellow party wigs, tie-dyed bandanas and rainbow necklaces with large wooden beads marking each blood test, CT scan, and surgery. There were piles and piles of loose papers covered in doodles and notes from waiting rooms of oncology appointments, sketchbooks torn and frayed at the edges with oddly-shaped faces shrouded in charcoal smudges and scribbles of bright greens and blues depicting fields and forests. And then, just as she felt the tip of her finger brush against the bottom, she knew that she’d found what she was looking for.

With a few grunts, Rey wrapped her fingers around the object and pulled it out, then sat back and examined it.

The only place she’d ever used Perler beads had been in the Children’s Lounge. They’d had an industrial size pile of beads on the table at any given time and some tweezers and grids ready for anyone who wanted to use them.

It had always been an unpopular activity, especially since the kids could play Mario or Guitar Hero on the big screen right across the room. But it had always been her favourite. Every time she got to go, she would spend hours working on her pieces, then playing video games while the volunteers ironed them together on her behalf.

Mum had saved all of them, thank God, and they remained tied together by a loose hair elastic. Most of them were of various flowers, chibi characters from Sailor Moon, and one piece that might’ve been a spaceship or a very weird-looking dildo. And at the bottom of the pile, still perfectly preserved, was a little red rose.

She stared at it for a long while, then held it tight to her chest, suddenly wishing desperately that she could simply will herself to remember more about the better times at the hospital. But no matter how hard she tried to recall, she could not suddenly clarify the blurry bits. It all just came to her again and again in little waves, flickering along the edges of her consciousness. Faces with and without blue surgical masks that had, over time, become smudged and incomprehensible to her mind’s eye. Walls emblazoned with a kaleidoscope of colours, covered in murals of dancing zoo animals and children blowing dandelions or riding on the backs of butterflies.

So many chittering voices, high choruses of nurses, residents, students, and broken only by the soft low tones of her primary doctors as they tried to explain what was going on. It’s grown since your last scan. Maybe we can try—perhaps we should lower the dosage—

A low, gentle laugh, and a pat on the shoulder. You’re handling this like a champ.

This is going to hurt, but only for a minute. Followed by a white-hot sting of pain at her clavicle.

You’re certainly a fast learner. He’d said to her, eliciting a soft chorus of chuckles and nods from the swarm of residents around him. She’d raised her hands in a weak thumbs up, though it was still swollen from the fluids.

But so much of it was limited to flashes in her mind’s eye, and the rest in vague feelings that she would never be able to describe to another human being. The subtle way that her heartbeats began to sting her ribs when she touched the blinking red oxygen saturation monitor on the surgery patients’ limp hands. The phantom scratch of the needle that crawled up her arm every time she stuck it into another human being. Even a week before, when she’d messed up an IV and hurt the poor woman, Rey had been the one to mutter ‘ow.’

In that moment, to search her brain to find a more vivid or happy memory from that place felt like a Herculean task. There were moments, of course. Mostly in the playroom, with the beads and the small bits of laughter and questions about what that guy was trying to make with all the blue and black beads. No, the best memory she could come up with was the one that she’d managed to hold onto for years, floating around like a firefly in a jar. Dr. Skywalker, squeezing her hand as he took her blood, ostensibly for the last time. She’d looked him in the eye that day and told him that she wanted to do what he did.

I think you’d make a great doctor, he’d said, smiling and bowing his head. When she tried to fill in the gaps and recall the twinkle in his eyes, all she could see were shadows.

Rey took the beaded designs and carefully put them back in the box, though she left that sitting outside of the closet. And as she left the room, she took the red rose and placed it on the kitchen table, half-upright against an old vase.

Chapter Text

So…sometimes certain stereotypes about medical specialties were somewhat accurate. Orthopaedics, Rey decided, was a cursed rotation fit only for the most masochistic of jocks, and wannabe drill sergeants.

Pre-rounds started at promptly at six on Tuesday morning; that purgatory time when the earth was still grey with mist and the sky was devoid of stars but untouched by sunlight. She didn’t have time to get any caffeine, but the adrenaline helped her make it to the office, where she was met by Cal, who promptly frowned at the sight of her face.

“You’re that third year from…” He trailed off, his eyes a little too glassy from what was most likely sleep deprivation.

“My name is Rey. I’m the third-year Chandrila student.” She said in a clipped tone, hoping to avoid hearing the rest of his thought process. Thankfully, he didn’t press.

The schedule had said that she was to be working under an attending named Dr. Chelli Aphra, but she was nowhere to be found. There were a few junior residents who barely seemed to register her presence. All three of them looked as though they could have been brothers, with their dark close-cropped haircuts, tanned skin, and broad shoulders. She learned from passing sideways glances at their tags that their names were Cody, Theo, and Sterling. With Cal’s bright red hair and relatively pale complexion, he stuck out amongst them like a sore—and noticeably shorter—thumb.

The team answered to the chief resident, a slim, initially unassuming woman named Merrin. Vincent had felt the need to warn the Group D chat that she was a ”demon.” He’d also called her a “witch,” but in hindsight, that might’ve been a typo. Rey hadn’t taken him particularly seriously at the time. After all, Phasma had turned out to be nicer than Ben made her out to be. But then she strode in donning surgical scrubs with her silver hair wrapped in a bun so tight that it seemed to stretch the wrinkles out of her face. She did not greet Rey, but instead took the first few minutes to publicly berate the other first-year resident who came in after her—a young woman named Vel.

Vel, as Rey would later learn, was a plastic surgery resident doing her off-service rotation. On that Monday, she had been fifteen minutes late for pre-rounds. Not rounds, but pre-rounds*.

Once Merrin finished talking, she silently began to put on her blood-red scrub cap while Rey and the rest of the gang stood huddled in the corner of the office, absolutely petrified. Then, rounds began. Most of the general surgery patients had been in the same ward, so Rey didn’t always have to climb too many stairs, but whoever built the hospital had decided to place the two orthopedic wards three floors apart and at opposite ends of the building. The gang walked at twice the speed, took half the time to check on patients, and otherwise spent their breaths answering calls from trauma.

She wanted to die. 

Rey didn’t have the stamina for this, even if it would only be for four days. To be frank, she didn’t have the stamina for most aerobic activities. No matter how much she’d tried to work on it at the gym with treadmills and CrossFit, she’d never been able to shake off all of the lingering exertional fatigue and occasionally debilitating bouts of chest and abdominal pain from her treatment days. Weights and sprints were fine, but not prolonged movements. Jess had once taught a charity Zumba class, and Rey had tapped out within the first twenty minutes. She still didn’t know if it was because of the surgeries disrupting her internal organs or some untreated cardiac damage from the chemo cocktails. The science wasn’t what mattered to her. It was just an absolute fucking nuisance.

She’d never shared this part of herself with anyone except Finn and Rose. No one needed to know. It wasn’t a disability or anything…just an inconvenience that she could push through. But on that first morning, she did feel somewhat tempted to pull the card. When Cody picked up on her slowing pace, he drifted slightly behind the cluster in front of them to hold the door open for her and quietly tell her to be quicker. 

He must’ve thought he was being helpful. She was a tired, meek, confused medical student on her very first day, therefore she didn’t know how things were done and needed a light push. It wasn’t anything that she could be reprimanded for, but if she didn’t learn to keep up within the next hour, they’d start calling her lazy.

Rey almost told Cody the truth. But when she saw him hold the door open for her, his brows creased with what looked like concern, she stopped herself and bit her lip. She picked up the pace, pushing through the growing aches in her chest and abdomen for the rest of the morning until they separated to fulfill their duties.

She was meant to follow Merrin and Cal into the OR, even if the chief only made that apparent by nodding to her and saying “You, come to Room 5 at eight am” before running off to answer a page. Before she went in, however, she sat in the adjacent locker room for a good twenty minutes, breathing deeply and chugging back ice-cold water until she got her heart rate back under control.

As she paced through the halls between the operating rooms, Rey suddenly felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of Ben. His back was turned to her, and he nearly had to crouch to fill his cup of water.

Feeling her shoulders relax automatically, she strode up behind him and raised a hand to tap him on the shoulder. “Hey Ben!”

He straightened and turned towards her, mid-sip, eyes wide. “Hey—” He began to murmur before placing a hand over his mouth to cover his coughs.

She waited until he finished coughing out the water before she continued. “How are you doing? Anything fun happening?”

He raised an eyebrow, seemingly a little confused at the question. Which was fair, as she’d asked him the same thing the day before over text, lounging around in bed at nine in the morning. She’d gotten all excited at his responses like a nerdy sixteen-year-old girl who’d just been hit on by the most popular student.

Rey: How are you doing?

Ben: Not bad, yourself?

Rey: Alright I guess

Rey: Anything fun happening?

Ben: I am currently eating wild mushroom soup

Rey: Is it good?

Ben:👌Heavenly

“Phasma’s got me in for a hemicolectomy today,” He gestured to the OR. “They had a large bowel obstruction, emergency admission, and will probably require cleaning. All of which I am incredibly excited about,” He said dryly.

Rey raised an eyebrow. “Sounds rough. How are they doing?”

He shrugged. “Haven’t met them yet. But I can’t imagine they’re feeling very good. How about you, anything interesting?”

“Shattered shoulder for me,” She said. “Our guy fell off while fixing the shingles on his roof.” When Merrin had told him over rounds that he’d be the first case of the day, he looked like he could cry from relief.

“That sounds rough,” Ben replied with a soft smile. “You’ll probably be busy all morning.”

“Yeah…” She began to say before her eyes drifted to the side, where Cal emerged from the operating room donning a blue lead apron, and lifted his gaze to them both. It must’ve clicked somewhere in his brain, seeing them together even with their scrub caps and masks, because he quickly narrowed his eyes.

“Rey, the patient’s coming in soon, it’s time to scrub in.” Without another word, he stalked off to the sinks around the corner, just out of sight and earshot.

She felt Ben lean over her shoulder without seeing him. “Was that the guy from—”

“Yeah,” She replied, her gaze still fixed on the operating room door.

Ben whistled under his breath. “Has he brought it up?”

“Not yet,” said Rey, looking over her shoulder and rolling her eyes. “But I think he remembers, even if he doesn’t know it.”

He pursed his lips and nodded. “Alright then,” He said. “You have fun with that.”

She turned towards him, smiled lightly and nodded back. “I’ll see you later? We can study a bit more tonight…if you want.”

Study. It was both a genuine suggestion and, she suspected, something that would soon become an inside joke between them. 

“Always happy to study with you. Shall we go to my place?”

Rey smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “Sounds like a plan.” Then, Ben began to move towards her. The world, for a minute, moved in slow motion as Rey quickly judged what was about to happen and pulled her head back awkwardly.

She lifted her arms for the hug that came and squeezed her eyes shut, letting him lift her onto the balls of her feet. They held each other for barely more than a moment while she took in his scent, let herself melt into his arms and chest, heard the whisper of his heartbeat again, and then tightened her grip before slowly letting him go.

Once they separated, they stood facing each other in silence, neither knowing how to break the tension between them. 

Then, just as Rey was planning to open her mouth, she felt a strong hand on her shoulder.

He patted her once, then twice, hesitantly, and pulled back. “Enjoy your shoulder.”

She giggled like a nervous child. “Enjoy your—shit, I guess.”

He simply smiled and waved goodbye, leaving her heart still pounding. But, she took a deep breath, grabbed a lead apron, and went to wash her hands while Cal silently returned to the operating room.

The orthopedics OR was something of a butcher shop, crowded and overly bright, filled with clusters of residents, busy nurses, a radiology technician leaning against the X-ray machine for support, and an anesthesiologist half-hidden behind a pane of glass and cork and engrossed in a book. Within half an hour of the first cut, the room was full of blood and guts and sweaty staff, with loud rock music blaring through the space. The guitar riffs were only broken by the sounds of drilling as Merrin struggled to get all of the screws and pins in place.

Dr. Aphra showed up about an hour into the procedure, dressed only in scrubs and a bright red apron, to make some comments and encourage the residents before quickly heading off to answer a phone call. She said nothing to Rey, who was standing at the man’s side and suctioning the blood from the open wound. She wondered if Ben was doing the same. A tedious job, but she preferred it to Cal’s, who seemed to struggle to hold the bones in place while Merrin did the drilling.

Mercifully, the operation was over within a few hours, and they gave Rey a full half hour to grab lunch before she needed to be back for the next one. And it only hit her while she was standing in line for a sandwich. She had hoped that he would kiss her.

***

Most of the time, the third years in various groups had incongruent lunch schedules because of their duties. Everyone in surgery ate lunch alone in a rush, the ones on medicine had from twelve to one, pediatrics and psych could eat whenever they wanted, and the ones on obstetrics typically spent lunch sleeping before their night shifts.

Rey rarely saw Finn and Rose at lunch, and it made it difficult to discuss anything meaningful. The group chat had been eerily quiet for days, ever since Finn told her that Rose had been acting strange. But she found Rose on Wednesday at noon eating with most of the pediatrics and medicine groups, sitting at the end of the table and laughing at something that Tallie was saying. She waved Rey over immediately as though nothing was wrong. Just another day at school, right? An environment that Rey had no trouble settling into.

She sat down across from Rose and took a large bite of her chicken Caesar wrap, waiting for the larger conversation to settle down. Something about cute residents, stories from people still in Chandrila, and general criticisms of the hospital food. She closed her eyes and savoured the flavours in her mouth, saying nothing. 

“So Rey,” Rose leaned over and tapped Rey’s wrist, jolting her back to reality. “How’s Ortho going?”

Rey blinked. “It’s err—not my favourite.” She wanted to say more, but the words immediately died on her tongue. “How bout you? How’s—” She drew in a breath. Fuck, she didn’t know what Rose was on this week. She’d barely been talking to her, how could she not know?

But Rose barely seemed to mind. “Good, mostly asthma clinics this week—” She conceded. “But they do sleep studies, and they said I could—” Suddenly, she froze.

Rey blinked, bewildered at her sudden loss of words, then turned to follow her gaze. Behind her, walking towards the table, Finn was holding a tray of food. He paused, then met her eyes, and Rose’s, and turned on his feet. Within moments, he had disappeared behind a corner.

Rose subsequently went deathly quiet and became far too interested in her plate.

Rey eyed her as they finished their meals, then shot her a quick text under the table.

Rey: Can we talk after lunch?

The ding! came through a moment later from under the table. Rose lifted her eyes and gave Rey an imperceptible nod.

When they finished their food, they left the others and went for a walk. Rey covered for them, explaining that she had to get back to the OR.

“What happened back there?” Rey asked softly when they were in the main hall of the entrance, well out of earshot

Rose let out a breath like she’d been holding it for the past half hour. “We had an argument…” She sighed and shook her head. “It was just…stupid. And he hasn’t talked to me since Saturday.”

“I’m sorry,” She said. “What happened?”

Rose crossed her arms and hunched her shoulders. It seemed to make her smaller. “He kept getting on my back about Hugh and fucking staying out late and it got all passive-aggressive and then I just…I just snapped.”

“I thought it didn’t work out with him?”

“Yeah,” She paused, then bit her lip. “It’s not even worth talking about it was so lame. Problem is, Finn thinks I slept with him. And I didn’t, and I fucking tried to tell him that. And then it became a whole thing and he started acting like he cared and wanted to help but then he decided that I was staying at the hospital because I was avoiding him and I’m not, and—” Her voice was growing shakier with every word, and she sounded like she was either about to dissolve into a storm of expletives or burst into tears.

Rey put her hand on Rose’s shoulder. “You’re okay,” She said softly, before letting go and leaning against the wall. “He’s your best friend, I’m sure he’ll get over it soon.” They’d all had their petty arguments about how they didn’t approve of each other’s sexual partners or who was going to take out the trash that week.

Rose’s eyes were becoming glassy. “It’s different this time. I called him self-absorbed and—and some other shit. I didn’t mean to but—” She swallowed hard. “I think he hates me.”

“I could go talk to him if you want.” She offered.

“No!” Rose exclaimed, so loudly that it startled Rey. “Please, I just—” She shut her eyes tight. “I said something else to him, sort of, and I think he’s avoiding me because of that.”

“What did you say?”

And when Rose looked down, it suddenly dawned on her.

Rey felt her shoulders drop. “Oh,” She said.

Rose hunched her shoulders further. “Yeah.” She murmured.

“How long have you known?”

It took Rose a moment to compose a response. She sounded weary. “A while, I think. I just couldn’t admit it to myself before.”

“Do you think he feels the same way?”

She groaned and began rubbing her face with her hands. “He just got all quiet and went to his room, and that was it.” She looked up. “And yesterday I saw him flirting with Vi.”

Rey was surprised to hear that. Finn had never once mentioned being into Vi in the slightest. She wondered if Rose had perhaps misinterpreted the situation, but seeing her friend’s reaction, she knew that it wouldn’t be productive.

“So what do you want to do?”

Rose groaned and set her back against the wall. “I don’t know,” She said. “What do you think I should do?”

Rey raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking me?”

“Yeah, I mean you and Ben are—” She wiggled her fingers suggestively. “And you fucking hated him for years. How did you get over it?”

She could’ve said that she wasn’t totally over it, it wasn’t a real relationship at all, and these situations were nothing alike, but, it wasn’t about her. So she shrugged and tried to put herself in the shoes of someone who had their shit together. “Own it.”

“Really?” Rose asked sarcastically.

“Yeah,” She said. “You like him, ask if wants to try to have a relationship. He says yes, great. He says no, we all go back to being normal friends. I’ll even buy you two drinks after the smoke clears.”

Rose seemed uncertain but nodded and stood up. She said nothing at first, then checked her watch. “I have to go back to the wards.” Then, she leaned in and gave Rey a hug, which she gladly reciprocated. “I’ll keep you posted.”

***

As it turned out, there was one advantage to doing an orthopedics rotation: it gave Rey more opportunities to practice her suturing and stapling. She could tell with each passing day that she was improving quickly with her technique, even if Cal and Merrin refused to acknowledge it. They simply glanced at her handiwork and told her to move faster.

By Friday morning, Rey had fully convinced herself that after graduation, she would never dare to return to the world of bone saws and lead aprons that left sweat stains all over her back. If she were any less exhausted, she would have personally told every member of the team, Aphra included, to fuck off. This world was made only for people like Tam, who started every morning with an unholy cocktail of Red Bull and spite.

Reva appeared soon after with Vincent in tow, and seeing her familiar face instantly made Rey’s morning a little bit better. She was wearing a new scrub cap; a lilac piece emblazoned with bright yellow crescent moons, black and white cat heads, and pink bows and talismans. The sight of it filled Rey with nostalgia, making her smile under her mask. She had never watched that much Sailor Moon, and the only people she’d ever seen walking around with anime or cartoon characters on their caps were the pediatric surgeons. To see Reva wearing that felt strangely comforting.

She took her time in the OR while the others checked the notes and sent their last texts. The patient was chatty when he came into the operating room, overly interested in the equipment, and curious about what it would feel like. His name was Kyle, twenty-six years old, and he’d requested general anesthesia for some reason. Nice guy, even if he did call her a nurse when he met her in pre-op. Kyle tried to comment on Vincent’s age, then asked if he also grew up in Mississauga. Vincent laughed nervously once or twice, but never said a word. He kept his focus on the drugs while Reva quietly supervised and occasionally put a hand on his shoulder, telling him gently that they would begin momentarily. 

Even from a few feet away, Rey could see that his chest was heaving, his gaze was too stuck to the ceiling. Her heart began pounding. She took a step closer.

The words tumbled out of her mouth, loud and shaky. “Any plans for the weekend Kyle?”

Three heads turned towards her.

Kyle’s features morphed several times. He smiled, his brow furrowed, then slackened. “Netflix,” He said with a small laugh. “I think I’ll just catch up on some Netflix.”

Rey smiled and nodded. She held her spot and clasped her hands behind her back, letting them continue. But just as Vincent lowered the mask over his face, Kyle’s eyes suddenly widened and he sucked in a short breath. Instantly, their nurse, D’Arcy, took her position at the opposite side of the table and gently placed a hand on his.

“Breathe,” Rey murmured. She stepped up to the side of the table and quietly put her hand on his. It was instinctive, such a small action that mirrored the nurse’s. She began to trace a finger over his skin. “Just breathe, okay?” She whispered, hoping they wouldn’t hear her. D’Arcy, who was keeping watch over his other hand, looked up at Rey, then let go and went to check some equipment. His face relaxed, his breaths grew deeper, and the milky propofol began to snake its way into his veins. And then he was under, and she lifted her hand.

Her mind was in a million places during the operation. Finn and Rose still weren’t talking, the group chat was still untouched, and Rose was clearly delaying in any way that she could. She had started extending her time at the hospital well into the evenings and was driving herself in every morning well before the other students would show up. Rey was still hesitant to get directly involved, she didn’t have the nerves to mediate conflicts, and to do it between her two best friends felt like a disaster waiting to happen. So she focused on what she could do in the moment. Hold down bones, suck up blood, and generally try to breathe like something resembling a human being while wearing a fifteen-pound apron under her already heat-trapping scrubs.

When the surgery ended, Dr. Aphra and Merrin exited immediately, leaving Cal to write the surgery notes and Rey to wander the room aimlessly until it was time to transfer Kyle to the post-op nurses.

Vincent clung to the left side of the bed, his form hunched, eyes looking like they were about to roll to the back of his head. Meanwhile, Reva was performing her usual routine of humming to herself and yelling at the patient to wake up.

Rey didn’t love the awkward silences that came with such moments, and Vincent Reyes had never been one for small talk as long as she’d known him. He was fine, occasionally a jerk, very academically driven, and the head of multiple peer tutoring committees and surgery interest groups. They had quietly tolerated each other in class, but she knew very little about him outside of it and had little incentive to learn anymore now. So, she opted to spend the next several minutes letting her eyes wander to the hand below her, half-covered in a thick white full-arm cast, with a blinking oxygen monitor on the index finger. She remembered what she’d read on the chart that morning. Parkour accident. 

She took a small sigh, shivered uncomfortably from the lingering odour of sevoflurane, and let herself hum along to Reva’s song. Once more, she let herself get lost in the song’s light and uplifting melody and wondered where it was from. Then, she opened her eyes and lifted them to her scrub cap and immediately cringed at her stupidity for not making the connection sooner.

“Is that the Sailor Moon opening?” She suddenly asked, startling Reva and Vincent. 

Reva blinked, then nodded. “It is. Are you a fan?”

“Ahh, not re—a long time ago.” Rey stuttered. “I mean, I think I watched it when I was a kid, but just the first few episodes. I only know some of the music.”

Reva nodded. “Yeah I was obsessed with it when I was a kid, recently I’ve been getting into the reboot and—” Suddenly, Kyle began to cough and gasp for air. Rey stepped back from the bed as Reva and Vincent moved swiftly to rip off the tape around the tube and pull it out as he exhaled, leaving D’Arcy the head scrub nurse to hold up the blanket while he coughed violently. When it was over and Kyle slowly began to return to consciousness, Rey leaned over her side of the bed and held his fingers down so that he wouldn’t smash himself in the face with his cast.

“You’re alright Kyle…all good…relax your arms you’re okay…” She murmured, just as she’d heard Reva and the other anesthesiologists and nurses do over the past few weeks.

Vincent’s gaze rested on her, his brows furrowed in a way that she couldn’t read. As much as she tried to ignore it, she couldn’t entirely get rid of him without causing a scene.

After they got the call, Rey and Vincent pushed the bed to post-op while D’Arcy, Reva, and Cal accompanied them close behind.

“Do you watch much anime these days? I’m looking for something new.” Reva suddenly asked from behind Rey, nearly making her jump across the hall.

Rey considered for a moment, then said “Yeah, I suppose. I started watching this new one last weekend about two enemy assassins from a fantasy world. They get transported to Tokyo and unknowingly start dating each other.”

Reva chuckled, soft and warm, as they reached the edge of the hall. “Sounds delightful, tell me more.”

They spent the next sixty seconds of the journey chit-chatting about anime until they reached their designated spot. One by one, the team members went to deliver their information to the nurse. Cal took over for the surgery side of things. Phasma had started to let Rey do it the week before, but he never let her try. Maybe it was a lingering irritation, maybe it was normal for orthopedics. She was too tired of the week to care. Vincent went up on Reva’s behalf while she listened intently. Rey took a step back as Reva gave Vincent notes for next time.

“You can grab lunch now if you want,” Cal told Rey before walking out of the room. “See you back here at one.”

Rey turned to Reva, but she was texting someone. She remained next to Vincent, not quite knowing what to do or how to move.

“Okay guys, I have to run,” said Reva, lifting her head. She pointed her phone to Vincent, who straightened like a soldier. “Get the OR set up at 12:30.” Then, she turned to Rey and gave a small wink, the corner of her mouth lifting upwards. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Rey must’ve blushed. She didn’t mean to blush but probably did involuntarily. Reva left before she could see anything.

“Are you trying to suck up to Reva or something?”

Rey turned to Vincent and furrowed her brow incredulously. “What the fuck?”

He crossed his arms. “You’re not on anesthesia. Why are you talking about that anime shit with her? And the patient, it’s not your job to do that.”

She blinked, bewildered at his audacity. “She asked me a question and I did something perfectly normal with the patient. Do you not talk to your anesthesiologists?”

Vincent grimaced and turned away.

Rey gritted her teeth and went to get a cup of water. “Don’t give me shit because you can’t have a conversation with her.”

“I need to get on the anesthesiologists’ good side if I’m going to get a reference letter.” He snapped.

Rey stood up and tilted her head. “Aren’t you trying for urology?” She asked, recalling one of the parties last May where a bunch of her classmates had gone around in a circle drunkenly announcing their residency goals to the world.

Vincent clenched his jaw. “I might do an anesthesia backup.”

She took a sip. No one would ever buy an anesthesia application from him, with how unenthusiastic he’d seemed in the OR. “You know if you’re dead-set on being a urologist, you should go make some friends in the department and get off my back.”

“Could say the same to you. Everyone knows you’ve been dead-set on pediatrics since day one.”

He said the word with such venom that Rey flinched like he’d slapped her. The absolute arrogance in his tone blew her away. The idea that anyone who didn’t choose the most competitive of specialties was somehow beneath them.

Rey did not reply immediately, as her instincts would have told her to raise a fist and crack it against his mandible hard enough to shatter it. But no, not the time or place for that. Slowly, she turned and threw out her cup, then turned back to her classmate. She drew in a deep breath, weighing the situation again, then lifted her chin and straightened so that she stood nearly at eye level with him. He may have been right, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. “First, we haven’t even finished this rotation yet. Second, if I want to watch a case and talk anime with Holdo herself, that is none of your fucking business.”

He could not come up with a retort, which gave Rey the opening that she needed to exit without giving into her burning desire to clock him in the jaw.

Fucking asshole. She thought as she paced through the halls. It wasn’t his business what she did in the operating room. She’d kept her distance, she wasn’t highjacking his job, if he’d cared so much about her talking he would have done it himself. Not her fault that some people couldn’t cope with the OR or treat their patients with a modicum of decency.

The growing bitterness and irritation sat festering inside her chest as she continued with the day, and by the late afternoon, she and Vincent couldn’t even look each other in the eye.

She waited for Ben in the food court while he wrapped up his surgery, and when he arrived, they went to get dinner together while she told him what had transpired.

While they waited for their food and she finished telling her the bulk of the story, he tilted his head. “Isn’t Vincent obsessed with urology?”

Rey flailed her arms furiously. “That’s what I said, like what the fuck is his problem?”

Ben considered her answer and let out an exasperated sigh. “He’s an asshole. I’m sorry that you had to deal with that.”

She huffed and crossed her arms. “I hope he steps on a Lego.”

Ben chuckled.

“I’m serious,” She grumbled, scowling at her unkempt running shoes. “I can’t believe he had the nerve to talk to me like that, judging me for liking pediatrics and treating the patient like a damn human being.”

“Hmph,” Ben conceded. He collected their hot cheesy pizza slices from the woman at the counter and handed one to Rey. Without a moment of hesitation, he looked over his shoulder and held up his credit card. “I’m buying today.”

Rey immediately took a furious bite of her slice, ignoring the burning sensation on her tongue. “He thinks he’s gonna do anesthesia as a backup. Couldn’t even talk to the guy,” She said bitterly after half-chewing the food. “I swear to God, the worst anesthesiologists are the ones who ignore how you’re feeling and don’t talk to you at all.”

Ben was silent as they walked through the cashier area and found their seats, then took his bite.

“Okay,” He said, pointing the slice toward her. “You do know that people can improve at these things. You don’t know what he might end up doing in the future.”

Rey dropped her gaze in shame. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I know I am.” After a beat, she looked up at him. His dark eyes were twinkling with self-satisfaction. “I must say though, it is pretty funny to see you so opinionated about a specialty you hate.”

She tilted her head. “What are you saying?”

“I’m not saying anything. I’m glad to hear that you’ve become so much more comfortable in the OR. I’m sure the doctors are noticing and will pay off when they evaluate your anesthesia performance.”

Rey rolled her eyes and scarfed down another portion of her slice. “Appreciate that, but—” She said in between chews, too heated to care about any sense of decorum. “I’m not just trying to do this for the marks.” She groaned. “I’m not even good at it myself. But he could have talked to the patient while he was on the table. They’re nervous enough, it’s the least anyone can do.”

He shrugged. “The nurses usually had that covered while I was there.”

“But patients aren’t putting their trust—” Their lives, she thought. “—In the hands of nurses, but they’re doing it with us. So you need to make sure they can feel comfortable around you.”

Ben dipped his chin, then relaxed into his seat and took a bite. “You can’t expect everyone to figure that out right away.”

“It’s what we’ve been taught to do.” She murmured irritatedly.

“Not necessarily,” He replied. “We weren’t taught how to talk to real people in the first two years, let alone in the OR.”

“Yeah, but you get along with people very well on the wards.”

“Wards that I’ve worked on before.”

She grimaced but gave him that point.

“You should remember that very few people have the kind of experience you do.”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on—” She began. She knew that, of course. But anyone could use their common sense. And most people did have some one-time experience. Rose had broken her leg as a kid and had spent a night on the wards when she caught a nasty stomach bug in undergrad. Finn had undergone jaw surgery in high school.

But Ben continued undeterred, putting his arms on the table. “Hux’s first time in an operating room was on the first day of this rotation. Most people have never spent the night in the hospital, let alone been on the table. You have done both multiple times.”

“Okay, so I need to give other people a break. Fine.” She said dismissively, setting her arms on either side of her now-empty plate, hands closed into fists.

“Well, I mean yes you do—” He began, then closed his eyes and put his face in his hands. “I’m trying to compliment you, okay? You don’t realize it, but you have something that a lot of people don’t.”

“And what’s that?”

He tilted his chin. “You know what you want in your doctor. You know what it takes to form a real relationship with a patient and make sure to add some kindness and levity to…” He nodded slowly to himself, then put his hand on the table and lowered his voice, betraying only a subtle quiver. “What might be the worst day of their life.”

Rey had always hated the narrative that her history meant that she held some magical power that would one day make her an inherently good doctor. She’d loathed the insinuations from Mum and people at Church that she was “meant” to give back, and it was somehow her destiny to return to the thing that had caused her so much pain.

But what he said did make sense to her, even if she did not admit it aloud.

Slowly, while she kept her gaze on him, she felt a tingle along her hand. She glanced down, surprised, to see his large hand a centimetre from hers. His finger was extended, gently tracing along her palm, and every brush against her skin sent hundreds of electric sparks flying through her hand, forearm, her chest. Without hesitation, she moved her hand a little closer and pushed it against his own until their fingers began to intertwine. One right after another.

Rey looked up and met his eyes. He seemed to be holding his breath, his brow furrowed with what looked like surprise or concern. She inhaled slowly, watched as a shadow fell over his face and it took on a layer of weariness, just as their hands became one.

They let go together, exchanging a look that was clear to her in the intent. Error. Critical error. This is not what friends do.

They’d agreed multiple times now that they would stick with a friends-with-benefits arrangement. Studying was studying. Sex was sex. They were having their fun. But this moment, however small, felt wrong, and far more intimate than what she deserved. She’d done it to Jess, hadn’t she? They spent weeks having sex and she decided that was the same thing as a real romance. But it wasn’t, and a true romance would have taken work and vulnerability that she wasn’t able to give.

She didn’t want to do that again. She didn’t want to be that disappointment. She wouldn’t—no, she couldn’t do this to anyone else, even—especially not Ben.

This compartmentalization was just her setting a boundary. Clearly, he felt the same way because he had let go too.

After a long, awkward pause that felt like an eternity, they got up to toss their garbage.

When they left the food court in silence, Rey saw on the wall that it was nearly five o’clock. The students were gone by now, and the staff would spend the next hour or so winding down before the doctors on call showed up.

She turned to him. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

Ben’s shoulders relaxed. “Yeah, why not?”

They strolled through the halls as the hospital grew more and more quiet and empty and turned into a seemingly endless labyrinth of speckled linoleum floors, ceilings, wooden panels lining off-white walls, and bright lights that tricked her mind into believing that it was perpetually daylight. The whole time, she was mindful of the distance between them, the way that the air filling the space would ebb and flow with each movement, sway, awkward step. Their hands never left their pockets, except occasionally to check their phones.

But at some point, Rey suggested quizzing each other to pretend that they were studying. Ben obliged, and within minutes the tension between them nearly ceased. They kept getting lost in stairwells and finding dead-ends while Ben made her explain the Ottawa ankle rules and while she made him describe the algorithms for investigating thyroid cancers. One would crack a joke, both would laugh. Ben would say an innuendo, and Rey would feel herself growing hot and nervous. But it was getting easier. She didn’t feel any aches building in her chest. It felt good to just be with him at this time and place, without the rush or judgment or pressure.

Once they found their bearings and returned to the main part of the hospital they had stopped talking about school and switched to talking about more innocuous things, like their workout routines and hobbies. Ben admitted that he wrote poetry, though he refused to share it. Rey confessed that she used to love drawing and painting, even if she hadn’t picked up a brush or pencil in years.

“Ever thought about getting back into it?” Ben asked wistfully.

Rey turned to block him and took a few steps backwards, tucking her hands behind her back. “Ask me again when we actually have spare time,” She teased.

Then, suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the sign for the pediatric oncology wards. She stopped, pursed her lips, and turned away. Ben was looking right at her, but she averted his gaze.

“Something wrong?” She heard him ask.

Rey just closed her eyes. “I keep telling myself that I should talk to Dr. Djarin about research but I haven’t done it yet.” She looked to Ben, who was standing at her side. “I should do it soon, right? I mean…” She trailed off, then shook her head. “Worst he can say is no, right?”

Ben nodded in agreement. “He’s a good guy, he’ll give you something if you ask.”

Rey turned back to stare at the sign. “Okay,” She said to herself. “Okay, then I’ll go in on Monday.”

So they returned to their stroll, chatting and laughing, and eventually looping back around to the surgery wards, where the nurse’s stations were minimally occupied and the glass doors to the wards were closed off and dark. The only sounds that they could hear beyond their quieting voices were the occasional distant beeps and coughs and wheels against linoleum bringing everyone dinner. Soon enough, they passed the rooms and found themselves standing in front of the unremarkable door to the on-call room. Her eyes fell to Ben, who had come up beside her, closer than before. One hand was hanging limp at his side.

She cleared her throat and let her hands hang by her sides. “You don’t think anyone’s using that right now, do you?”

Ben’s eyes widened, but then he glanced at the door, then back at her, and a hint of a smile found its way onto his lips. “The on-call residents are probably still doing night rounds.”

Rey nodded and returned to the door, feeling her heartbeats begin to pick up the pace. She tilted her head. “Funny how our friendship arguably started in this room.” Her voice was coy, measured. Suggestive.

Ben snickered and crossed his arms. “It’s a shame we never got to finish.”

They exchanged a knowing look. Without a moment of hesitation, they opened the door together, peeking into the dark room to ensure that it was not only devoid of people but of their things too. No bags, no clothes, and the sheets on the bunk beds were freshly made and undisturbed.

Rey locked the door with a click and jiggled it to make sure that it was shut. With a short, uncertain breath, she turned to Ben and set her hands against the door, just behind her back.

Ben was standing just a foot away, arms crossed and head tilted, his face half-hidden in the shadows. He was smiling so sardonically that it made Rey feel like she was ready to buckle at the knees. “I love how for someone who doesn’t watch medical soaps, you seem hellbent on using the same hookup tactics.”

“Hey, you followed me in here.” She said coyly.

“I did, didn’t I?” He stepped forward and set an arm against the door and over her head. “Well, then we should make a plan. What should we do this time if we get caught?”

“No one’s here, I think we can do what we want,” Rey said. “And if anyone asks tomorrow,” She shrugged good-naturedly. “We can just blame it on those oh-so-horny fourth years.”

Ben leaned in and gently brought his other hand to her face. Her heart beat wildly as he took hold of her chin, gently but possessive. “You think you’re being cute?”

She did not respond, but lifted her chin defiantly and waited for the moment to come. He peeled his arm away from the door and traced it down along the side of her body until he was searching for the drawstring of her pants.

His hand was like ice as it crept down under her pants and panties, and she shivered a little as he brushed his nail against her clit, still smiling in that smug fashion that she had come to adore. With a small pleasurable sigh, she closed the gap between their faces and wrapped her arms around the back of his neck. She kissed him, wet and hot and ready, then grinned and whispered in his ear. “Fuck you, Solo. I’m adorable.”

Rey’s fantabulous list of medical school terms

*Rounds/Pre-rounds

-A colloquial term used amongst physicians and trainees referring to the team meeting to discuss and develop a care plan for the day. In the morning, this typically involves visiting all patients under the team’s care, checking their vitals and status, and noting changes that need to be made

-Pre-rounds are a ritual typically performed by younger residents and medical students, up to an hour before the doctor arrives. They visit patients beforehand or check the information on their chart so that they have all up-to-date information to present to the doctor.

Chapter Text

Every medical school interview includes one common element. The panel members will sit down, brush the last pieces of lint off their pin-striped suits, straighten themselves in their seats, look you in the eye as if to peer into the depths of your very soul, and ask: why do you want to pursue medicine?

It’s one of those deceptive questions that may invite any number of answers, with none being truly ‘right,’ though many of them are wrong.

“I want to make a lot of money” is objectively one of the worst answers that a person could give. Easiest way to show that you’re selfish and ignorant. So unfathomably stupid that it feels like the answer a cartoon villain would give. Only about 1% of doctors actually make the kind of money that laypeople think 75% of doctors make. Medicine is a career that pays you below minimum wage for the first five years, then forces you to hand over half your salary in overhead to legal associations without ever giving you the benefits of a union. It is not a game that allows poor people to climb the social ladder.

“I just want to help people” is also bullshit, and consequently invites follow-ups like “well why don’t you become a nurse? Or a paramedic? Or a physiotherapist?” Anyone who isn’t already one of those things can have fun exposing their own biases about the healthcare system.

“I want to give back” is downright pathetic and naive. If that is your desire, it would be easier to become a tech millionaire and donate your winnings to your favourite hospital.

“I’m going into the family business” sounds like the kind of response that would get you kicked off the shortlist, but for the medical students with close relatives bearing the moniker “Doctor,” it’s probably the most accurate.

The best answers, like any given human being, tend to be more complicated. They may be a confusing cocktail of altruism, trauma, and academic competitiveness.

Rey always believed—even if she never shared it in her own interview—that the one unspoken element to one’s desire to become a doctor was a desire for power. The power to define the course of their lives, lives of the people around them, and change them for the better.

***

Dr. Din Djarin’s office door was relatively unassuming from a distance, but up close she might as well have been looking up at the imposing iron doors of an ancient castle. Her knocks were quiet, but in her mind they boomed like she was trying to knock them down.

“One minute please,” A somewhat muffled voice said from the other side. The tone was even, which was good, right?

Rey stood paralyzed, her arm still raised, as she heard some papers rustle and chairs squeak and footsteps vibrate. She blinked and hurriedly tucked them at her sides like a soldier.

He opened the door, and though he stood only half a head above her, his face flashed in front of her and she was suddenly looking at a giant in a white coat, with his tanned skin, short brown hair, short moustache and beard, and a smile that always used to fill her with relief. But no, after a heartbeat she returned to the present. The same man, but with no white coat, just a casual button-up, glasses, a slightly thicker moustache, and greyer hair than she’d remembered.

“And who might you be?”

Rey stiffened again, then opened her mouth and said, with the tone and cadence of a Girl Scout on cocaine: “Hello Dr. Djarin I’m a third year medical student from Chandrila and I’m interested in doing pediatric oncology. I was wondering if I could speak to you about doing research.” A quick breath, then she resumed: “I apologize for not emailing you I just wanted to see if you were in your office today.”

Dr. Djarin said nothing, but took a half-step back, still holding the door, and looked her up and down. Ostensibly to check the name on the silver tag on her chest. Oh God she was such a nervous idiot, what had come over her? This was so much easier to do over email where she could edit her script.

Then, he nodded towards his desk. “I have a few minutes to chat before afternoon clinic, so come on in.”

Immediately, her body relaxed, and she dipped her head low to follow him in.

At the threshold, she stood hunched and listened as he gently closed the door.

“Have a seat,” He said from behind her.

Rey raised her head and watched as he weaved around her towards his own desk, finally picking up on the presence of two small metal chairs on her side. She flinched as she slid one out and it made that terrible squeaking sound against the floor.

“Apologies for the mess, just need one more second—” Dr. Djarin said as he sat down across from her and checked something on his computer.

“No problem,” Rey laughed nervously and took a seat, then paused and scanned her surroundings. His black metal desk was indeed a mess, covered in stray papers, binders, textbooks, and charts arranged in little nests around his computers and trinkets, including a family picture with his wife and teenage son. She hazarded a glance at the picture to confirm that yes, indeed, he looked just like how she remembered him.

But when she craned her neck upwards, it was the walls that struck her. Where most doctors she’d met tended to decorate their offices with their framed diplomas and various accolades, his was covered by just as many pieces of art. Children’s art. Crude pieces of paper with the outlines of princesses and superheroes covered in crayon scribbles of all colours of the rainbow. There were drawings of kids on beds with captions like Thank you Dr Djarin, Best doctor ever!, and All better now! Others still were clearly made by some of the older kids under his care. Mostly drawings of anime characters and a couple of skillfully made portraits and comics.

She was mesmerized. She’d never paid attention to these things as a kid, and this was the first time she’d been in the office of a pediatrician since becoming an adult. There had to be dozens of illustrations lining the walls around them. Dozens of mementos from kids, living and dead, thanking him for his care. Every day, he carried bits of memories, hopes, and wishes of people living through hell.

Dr. Djarin must’ve picked up on her silence and wandering gaze, because he let out a soft chuckle. “They’re nice drawings, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” said Rey, a little wistfully. Then, without even thinking about it, she pointed to a piece at the top of the wall to the right of Dr. Djarin’s desk. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized that yes, she was indeed looking at the real thing. A small landscape painting, wrinkled and worn at the edges, with messy watercolours depicting a clear blue sky and a large tree at the edge of a field all dotted with pale purple flowers. She’d meant them to be wisteria. Or perhaps lavender.

“I did that one,” She said in a small voice.

It was a shy admission, the kind that she wouldn’t have dared to say until recently, for fear of colouring the doctors’ opinions of her. But the words had tumbled out regardless, and a little voice in the back of her mind was already starting to chastise her for saying it and sounding so small and quiet. Fine, he’d met her before, he was her Main Doctor when Skywalker was away, and she’d made that for him because she had gifted bits of arts and crafts to all the doctors and nurses at some point or another.

Dr. Djarin followed her finger to the painting, then whirled back and regarded her in silence. After a moment or two, he tilted his head ever-so-slightly, perhaps confused but not outright bewildered as she might’ve expected him to me. Then, slowly but surely, he opened and closed his mouth, and gave a slow nod.

“Ah,”  he said. “Oh…I think I remember you. You were one of Luke’s kids.” He paused, then snapped his fingers. “Theo-dora, right?”

She cringed internally at the mispronunciation, like he was trying to say ‘Theodore,’ but didn’t correct him. Her heart was pounding too much with apprehension. “I just go by Rey these days.” Somehow, she managed a tight, uncertain smile.

Djarin nodded. “Then it’s nice to see you again, Rey,” He said smoothly. Then, he tilted his chin down and leaned slightly forward. “So what brings you in today? I don’t think you’re on pediatrics at the moment, or I would have seen you at tutorials.”

Okay, so he wasn’t going to make that into a conversation. Rey let out the breath that she’d been holding. “No, I’m on surgery right now. I’ll start pediatrics in October.”

“I see,” He said quietly, settling into his chair and crossing his arms. “And you said that you’re interested in working with me on some research?”

She nodded.

“Okay,” Dr. Djarin said quietly.

Rey waited and watched with bated breath as he raised an arm to scratch the bottom of his chin. His eyes wandered, as if deep in thought, then settled on her again. “What kind of experience do you have?”

“I have contributed to multiple oncology systematic reviews and audits at McMaster and Chandrila.”

“Were you the first author on any of them?”

She paused, a little surprised that he didn’t ask her to elaborate on what she’d researched. But once the question sank in, she said in a low voice: “No.”

After a beat, he nodded and leaned forward. “That’s alright, I simply want to know where you are at the moment. Do you have any experience interacting with children in a healthcare setting?”

Rey hesitated, then raised a shoulder. “I’ve met a few kids in general surgery.” It was true, but not particularly relevant. She had barely exchanged a word with any of them. “Otherwise…” She paused. “I volunteer at Camp Trailblazers, if that helps.”

He nodded and smiled knowingly. “I think we can work with that.”

Rey let out a small sigh of relief, then pressed her lips together. “I learn fast,” She said. “I can come in any day of the week and work on the project as long as I need to.”

“I appreciate that,” said Dr. Djarin with a short chuckle. He tilted his head quizzically. “I don’t have any large projects on the go, but would you like to take a shot at a case report in the coming weeks? If you finish it quickly, we can edit it and even see about submitting it to the spring pediatrics conference.”

Rey blinked. “Yeah—yes of course. That sounds perfect!”

He smiled. “Excellent, then we can work with that.”

In the end, they agreed to wait until Rey finished her surgery shelf exam before they would start working together. He pointed out that it would be best for her to avoid distractions, and for him to actually find a good patient for her to look into. They exchanged emails and numbers, and then he sent her off and ran in the other direction to attend his clinic.

She stood in the hallway for a minute after he disappeared around the corner, somewhat stupefied over what had just transpired. He had said yes. She’d spent years cold-calling doctors, often to no avail, and when they did say yes they only let her do grunt work for the residents doing actual research. And Djarin was going to let her take the lead on a case report. And fine, fine, she’d mentioned her history. But he hadn’t said anything about it, nothing to suggest that it was in any way colouring his opinions. And besides, hadn’t she wanted him to know who she was?

Rey wanted him to know that she had this perspective and could still get the job done to a high standard. And though her heart was still pounding through her ears, she swore to herself that she would do whatever it took to be the best goddamn student he’d ever taken under his wing. 

Okay…after she finished her surgery exam.

***

As it turned out, many of the patients who came into the ENT operating rooms were, in fact, children. And, their rounds started at seven-thirty. Those facts alone made orthopedics feel like a bad dream.

Dr. Ezra Bridger explained to her on the first day that Coruscant had a relatively small department compared to Hamilton General and, well, anything in Toronto. So the hospital primarily handled surgeries on the ears, tonsils, and thyroids. Neck biopsies and septoplasties were rarely done by his team. The rest was clinic.

ENT clinics, she found, were quite a bit more dynamic than general surgery. She often watched with earnest curiosity while Bridger cleaned out ears and inserted laryngoscopes and other probes down patients’ noses and throats. But despite the relative ease of the specialty and her enjoyment of the content, she knew right away that it wasn’t sparking that distinct joy or drive in her that she was waiting for. So, more often than not, she found her thoughts drifting to what was coming next. Her check-in meeting with Maz Kanata was coming, then the dreaded anesthesiology week, and then the shelf exam.

Working in the OR helped her stave off her anxieties over the upcoming week. Bridger was an easy surgeon to get along with, especially while he was doing his delicate work. He was much younger than many of the other surgeons, and not much taller than herself. This made it much easier to see what was going on without having to use a stool.

He was certainly attractive, with large dark eyes, warm brown skin and long thick black hair all over his head and face. Another version of her might have even let thoughts of his attractiveness linger in the back of her mind, the way that a seventeen-year old girl might sometimes let her thoughts stray to the fit young biology professor. 

But more importantly, he was just a really nice guy. And admittedly a little goofy. She often caught him singing along to his OR playlist songs in Spanish and another language that was either Arabic or Farsi. He later clarified that it was the latter. She was grateful that he was eager to teach her about everything he did, and that did wonders for her engagement and self-confidence.

She found out one morning that he was dating one of the anesthesiologists, Dr. Sabine Wren, a stunning tanned Asian woman who Rey first noticed by her bold eye makeup, ever-present mask, and perpetual wrinkles around her eyes from smiling. She marched right into the room with a distinct spring in her step, her scrub cap emblazoned with what looked like graffiti tags with bits of her bright purple hair poking out from below.

Orla was accompanying her that day, trailing along and looking far more at ease than she’d been when they’d spoken a few weeks prior.

Bridger and his resident, Jacen, were running late from an emergency. Rey had been left in the OR to twiddle her thumbs and mentally review the details of the patient’s history and surgeries. It was a seventeen year old kid named Reath, and he was coming in to get cochlear implants. She remembered from reading his file in a haze the night before, that he had Stickler syndrome. A genetic condition that affected collagen genes, causing a range of syndromes in the face, eyes, ears, and bones. His list of surgeries was quite literally a mile long: plastics, ENT, ophthalmology, orthopedics…the sight of all of those procedures made her shiver.

When they brought him into the room, the nurses were cheerful and speaking loudly, as they had put away his hearing aids while he was in pre-op. Reath was a taller guy with a square jaw and characteristically flat features, and he wore a polite smile and waved at everyone in turn. Bridger and Jacen came in, loudly greeted Reath and stood by while the rest of the team got him onto the table. Once things were off, they went to scrub and motioned for Rey to follow.

She lingered as long as she could, peering at Reath and Orla from the corner of the room as he lowered himself onto the bed. He was tilting his head from side to side, shuffling awkwardly up and down, but he was silent. Someone came over to add another blanket and rubbed his shoulder affectionately. He must’ve been shivering.

As soon as they left, he took a breath and focused his attention on the ceiling. In moments, his expression seemed to go slack, like his spirit was leaving his body, while the nurses and Dr. Wren yelled out and theatrically gestured towards their IVs and monitors.

Rey felt her blood run cold. Maybe she was overthinking things or projecting. But it was a familiar move, putting all of one’s focus on the one part of the room that didn’t have people or tools. It was exactly the kind of thing that she’d used to deal every time she’d been on the table. 

Orla did not follow the lead of their supervisors. She did not talk loudly or gesture wildly towards the boy. Instead, she pulled out her phone and began to type, while hovering just above his head. Rey held her breath, knowing that such an action was taboo and probably punishable by flogging, but then watched with fascination as she tapped Reath on the shoulder and showed him something on her screen. He narrowed his eyes, then nodded and lifted his chin so that she could see the gesture.

She did it again, then pointed to one of the nurses, who was holding the green mask to his right.

He blinked a few times, as if snapping back to reality, then said ‘thank you’ before it covered his face. Rey smiled to herself and went to wash her hands, her shoulders relaxing more with every step. As the water flowed from the faucet, she stared and entered a brief trance, trying to imagine that she was in Orla’s position in the room. Left hand holding the laryngoscope, right hand tilting the back of the head. In, push, then put in the tube all in one fluid motion.

Reath was awake within five minutes of the end of the surgery. Wren and Orla extubated him quickly, and then got him settled and breathing independently while they waited for recovery to approve them for transport. He slept like a baby while everyone else wrapped up their work.

Rey found her way to her classmate’s side while she kept watch over their patient. Quietly, without anyone else being able to hear, she leaned in and whispered “That was really kind of you, what you did with your phone.”

Orla seemed startled, then turned to meet Rey’s eyes and took in what she’d said. She nodded, whispered “thank you,” and turned back to the page, just as D’Arcy announced to the room that they were going to Bed 7.

Bridger and Wren instructed Rey and Orla to go and take care of handover with the nurses in recovery, and asked them to provide the team with their pager numbers just in case things went south. Then, they were to get things ready for the next procedure. The two girls met each other’s eyes and offered good-natured shrugs before following the porters out of the OR. As the doors squeaked close behind them, she could see the silhouettes of their supervisors leaning on desks way too close to each other while writing their notes and laughing at each other’s comments.

Orla must’ve seen it too, because she leaned in and whispered to Rey while they trailed the staff moving the bed. “I think they’ve been together for awhile.”

Rey pursed her lips and glanced back at the door. “Yeah, they definitely look like it. Did she tell you anything?”

“Not much,” She shrugged, then grinned conspiratorially. “But she got all excited this morning when she saw that we’d be in his OR. She said that they went to med school together and started going out during residency.” Then, with a flourish, she made a small aaah sound and tilted her head back the way they came. “She talks like she’s expecting a proposal any day now.”

Rey let out a small laugh and looked back as they turned the corner. “That actually sounds really sweet.” Many people in their year had hooked up, dated, broken up, and returned to the pool. Some had gotten engaged. A few had kids on the way. Wren and Bridger must’ve been those classic sweethearts who continued to pursue things in residency. It probably made things easier on them financially, not to mention how much simpler it likely was to work in the same surgical settings.

“It’s so sweet, isn’t it?” Said Orla, clapping her hands excitedly. “Oh my God, it’s just like Miranda and Ben! So cute!”

Despite Rey’s continued refusal to watch Grey’s Anatomy, she’d heard enough references in the past few years that she could parse that Orla was talking about Miranda Bailey. From what she gathered, Bailey was Meredith Grey’s residency mentor or attending. Good to know that she’d gotten a nice romantic subplot with ‘Ben,’ who was ostensibly, an anesthesiologist. Maybe she’s watch a bit of the show in the coming days. Ben had given her his Disney+ password a couple of days ago, and the system was already recommending the show to her along with about fifty other medical soaps.

He’d joked that it was fate. She’d rolled her eyes and called it creepy data mining.

The girls completed their handover quickly, then went to the usual spot where students would await further instructions from the supervising doctors and nurses. Both of them couldn’t help but keep their eyes trained as the kid began to groan loudly and try to pull of his face mask.

Rey tried to take a step towards the team, but Orla beat her to the punch.

“Anything we can do to help?” She asked, looking between D’Arcy and Rey.

D’Arcy shook her head, then flinched involuntarily as the boy yelled something from behind her. “You girls go grab a bite, we’ve got it from here.” And without another word, she pulled the dark blue curtain, immediately cutting them off from the world.

The girls exchanged a look before Rey crossed her arms, relaxed against the desk, and raised her chin to groan. “They’re doing the hemithyroidectomy next, right?”

Orla grimaced and began scratching at the back of her neck “Yeah…I have to find an electromyographic tube. Thing.” She sighed, closed her eyes, and began rubbing her temples. “Then I have to run the circuit test and prep the meds.” After a heartbeat, she shook her head and found her smile. “Want to join me on my scavenger hunt?”

Rey shrugged and pushed herself off the desk. “Sure, why not?” After a quick yawn and stretch, she asked “Are you enjoying the work?” She must’ve found that she was liking it, or at least had an aptitude for it. She was confident enough to text her patient with hearing loss!

Orla’s expression faltered. She turned to Rey, blinked a few times, then found her smile again and nodded happily. “I am, actually,” She said self-assuredly. “I mean, I’m not sure if I love it love it, but I definitely like it more than surgery. Turns out it’s a lot easier on my nerves to be on the other side of the drape.” Then, after a beat, she sighed deeply. “What about you, you’re on after me, right? Looking forward to it?”

Rey took a deep breath and felt a slight shiver pass over her. She could still hear some faint beeping from behind the curtain. Instinctively, she crossed over her arms a little more tightly, then let herself settle down. “Not really,” She admitted quietly. “But there’s no getting out of it, right?”

***

She got a call from Rose on Thursday evening, just an hour or so after returning from the hospital.

“Hey, everything okay?” She asked with a tired yawn. Staring with a phone call was so unlike her friend, something must’ve gone wrong.

She heard static, then Rose’s shaky breathing on the other line. “I need to get out of the apartment.” A pause. “Can I come over?”

“Yeah,” said Rey. “Of course.”

She made Rose a cup of raspberry tea when she came in the door and sat next to her patiently on the old couch while she relayed the past few days of her life. She seemed wearier than the last time they’d spoken, and with every word it seemed that she was fighting back tears.

“I’d vent to Paige about this but she’s on call and—” She choked. “I don’t know how much longer I can take it,” She said, staring into her cup. “I asked if Finn wanted to have a conversation about things.”

“Did you tell him what things you meant?”

She shook her head. “I was going to do what you said and own it, but he wouldn’t even give me the time of day.”

Rey felt her chest tighten. This seemed so completely unlike Finn, closing himself off from Rose like that.

“He’s barely talking to me, he’s still texting Vi, and now Tam knows and she’s trying to make me feel better and I—” She released a full-body shudder, then set down her cup and began to wipe at her eyes. “I just can’t do this.”

“And you’re sure he’s going out with Vi?” Rey asked uncertainly.

Rose hesitated, then shook her head and shut her eyes tight. “I don’t know for sure, but I feel like I want to push her down a flight of stairs whenever anyone mentions her name, and she doesn’t deserve that.”

Rey nodded to herself. At this point, she was well aware of Rose’s jealousy streak. It was usually the thing that signalled to everyone that her feelings about someone were real. She’d joked with Rey about doing the same with Poe, just before she started officially dating Hux.

Rose took a sip of her tea and swallowed it harshly. “Vi’s amazing and this is just making me feel like such an asshole. I’m afraid if I tell either of them that it’ll just make things worse.”

She asked her next question delicately. “Do you want me to call him for you?”

“No!” Rose protested, then slunk back into the cushion. “Please, no, I don’t want to drag you into this.”

“You’re not dragging me into anything, I’m already involved.”

“I know, but…this is between us, okay? I’ll figure this out on my own…one way or another.”

Rey quietly took a sip from her own cup, then set it on the table and wrapped her friend in a tight embrace. “Do you want to crash here for the night?”

Rose hesitated, then buried her face into Rey’s shoulder and nodded. “Yes.”

They relaxed and found distractions to get Rose’s mood back up. A couple of episodes of a new Netflix show, some talk about Rose’s research, and gossip about Paige’s new unnamed girlfriend. Soon enough, it was getting close to midnight, and they knew that they needed to cut things off. Rose offered to sleep on the couch with a blanket, but Rey didn’t let her finish the thought. The couch was incredibly uncomfortable and the bed was big enough for two people to comfortably sleep on. She just needed a hand getting an extra pillow down from the closet shelf.

Rey’s bedroom wasn’t the nicest place in the world. The off-white walls were covered with outdated anime posters and ivy, and the air still carried a subtle, yet permanent odour of brandy. Her oak bed frame was splintering at the edges, making it difficult to lay down without a pillow. The mattress was getting old and creaky, her pale green sheets needed to be changed, and the ceiling light was growing dimmer with each week that she refused to change the bulb. The mirror-covered closet door was half-open, revealing a small pile of dirty clothes that she hastily tried to tidy up before company arrived.

She loaned Rose a change of clothes for her to wear to bed, gave her a spare toothbrush, then quietly got ready to sleep. Once the lights were off, the door was closed tight, and they’d each set their four morning alarms spaced five minutes apart, there was little to do but wait to fall asleep.

The girls lay side by side, facing each other in the bed, at first silent while the overnight cars and washing machine whirred continuously on some other plane of reality. Rey smiled softly at her friend, feeling her body relax into her pillow. She had almost forgotten how it felt to have someone next to her in bed. It made the room feel just a little warmer.

Rose must’ve felt it too, because she smiled back, before her brows furrowed. “It’s been a long time since we’ve done this,” She whispered.

Rey, feeling a pang of a memory, shifted uncomfortably and suddenly felt the need to dodge her friend’s gaze. “Yeah,” She murmured. “Not since Mac.”

Not long after Mum died, Rey had moved out of residence and back into her apartment. Finn and Rose had both quietly helped her move her stuff and fielded intrusive questions from the other freshmen. Rose would come over for weeks afterwards, sometimes staying for days at a time. She cooked, cleaned, answered the door, hid the flowers and liquor that people left as gifts, and ensured that they both made it to their lectures every morning. She’d never once asked for anything in return.

Even in the darkness, Rey could see that Rose was pursing her lips. “Thank you,” She whispered. “I really do feel better when I’m with you.”

Rey chuckled dismissively. “Pretty easy thing to do when you’re friends with someone as fucked up as me.”

Under the covers, she felt her friend’s warm hand take hold of hers, their fingers intertwining. “I’m serious,” She murmured. “Thank you.”

A small shudder overtook Rey, and she nodded, then wrapped her arms around Rose’s shoulders and brought her in for another hug. They lay together like that for what felt like hours, eventually drifting off to sleep amongst the faint echoes of ambulance sirens and late-night joyrides.

***

By Saturday evening, Rey was beyond physically and emotionally exhausted and more than happy to be done with everything remotely related to school. The night with Rose had taken a lot out of her, though she had no regrets about helping a friend. Beyond that, she spent so much energy putting on a brave face for her work during the day and studying at night that the only way she could still get reprieve was with food…and sex. When she could get it.

She and Ben had been getting bolder with their endeavours; timing things so that they could slip in and out before the residents came in to work or take a nap. They even made a point not to leave any traces on the beds themselves, such a thing would be incredibly tacky. But after she’d heard someone knocking at the door on Friday, it became clear that their strategy was flawed. They would have to settle on a new place soon, and while Ben was happy to bring her back to his apartment, she still held some lingering guilt in her chest for showing up and then leaving in the middle of the night. She was sinking into old and comfortable habits, and it wasn’t fair to him.

Now, it was Saturday and she was too tired to go out. He hadn’t texted her all day, and she had no reason to leave her apartment for anything. So, there was little to do but cook, study, watch some anime, and check her messages.

Strangely enough, there was an email from the Dean at the top of her inbox, and it had been sent quite only a few minutes ago. That was odd, as she usually sent Friday night wellness emails and information about upcoming events. When she started reading it, that seemed to be the case again. Typical housekeeping email featuring reminders about upcoming exams, locker rentals and…

Furthermore, the staff have received multiple troubling reports of third and fourth-year students socializing in on-call rooms and leaving them dirty. We are deeply disappointed to hear that our students are engaging in such unprofessional behaviour. Please be advised that these rooms are designated only for residents and medical students doing buddy call shifts, for the purposes of sleep and privacy . Any student who uses said rooms for anything other than their intended purposes will face severe consequences.

Rey had to read it a few times before it finally sank in. Fuck. Someone must’ve caught them after all.

Instantly, her phone vibrated, showing a text from Rose and a screenshot of the same paragraph.

Rose: Lmaooooo look at you go!!

Rey rolled her eyes, but smiled to herself and sent her a few crass emojis.

Her phone vibrated with a text from Ben a few minutes later.

Ben: You saw the email?

Rey: Yeah

Rey: We’re fucked aren’t we

Ben: Ah well, they didn’t name names so we should be fine. But maybe we should find another space to study

Ben: You know my place is still available.

Rey: …

Rey: …

She put down the tongs, took a deep breath and sent her response.

Rey: I’m making dinner right now. Want to come to my place instead?

Ben:…

…

…

What are you making?

Rey: Vegetable stir fry. Interested?

He was at her door about twenty minutes later.

Things began innocently enough. She gave him a basic tour of the living room, noting the way that he lingered on the pictures of Mum and icons. They ate the stir fry together at her small dining room table, he puckered his lips in a clear signal that he didn’t love it but would still finish it out of respect.

She couldn’t blame him. It was just store-bought stir fry mix, and while it was never is good as the homemade stuff, it was the cheaper option.

Afterwards, she took their bowls to the sink and began to wash them. Suddenly, she tensed, feeling a pair of hands wrap around her waist.

“Well, aren’t you impatient?” She teased, leaning back into Ben’s neck.

He kissed her on the forehead. “You can’t tell me you’re surprised.”

She laughed heartily and nudged him away. “Let me finish this first.”

A few minutes later, she turned to see him leaning against the kitchen entrance with one arm, grinning like a teenage boy.

“Shall I meet you on the couch?” He asked with a wiggle of his eyebrow.

“No, the couch is terrible,” She said with a grimace. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Maybe…no, it was now or never. “We can go to my room,” She said.

He raised his eyebrow, as if to ask are you sure? But she was already pulling him by the wrist towards her door, pacing as fast as she could before she could stop herself from doing it.

She closed the door carefully, then turned towards the bed, newly made courtesy of Rose.

Ben examined it carefully, brushed a hand against it, then straightened and looked at Rey. “You’re sure?”

Without a word, Rey climbed onto the end of the bed and shuffled towards him on her knees. She kissed him first, forcefully, and wrapped her arms around his neck. He met her where she was, pressed hard with his tongue, only coming up briefly for a moment of air before continuing. His hand crept up her back, then took hold of the back of her neck and head, supporting her while she bent backwards.

“I should warn you,” She said breathlessly, unbuttoning her flannel top to reveal a skimpy blank tank top. “Old bed—” He kissed her, and she let out a soft giggle. “Kind of shit, apologies in advance for any weird smells.”

Ben laughed and lowered her onto the mattress. He pulled the belt off of his jeans, while she clumsily kicked off her track pants, until she was only wearing the tank top and pale blue panties.

She looked into his eyes, shining in the evening light, and reached up to kiss him, then let him work down in the way that she liked it.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Ben whispered breathlessly into her neck, before pulling back and examining her expression.

Rey smiled. Praise and flattery were certainly his strong suits in the bedroom. “You’re amazing,” She said. “What are you going to do to me tonight?”

He grinned sardonically, then took ahold of Rey’s right wrist and brought it up beside her head. “Well, I’ll start by taking off your panties,” He said slyly. “And I won’t stop until I know you’re done.”

Rey shivered, then blinked, her vision suddenly enveloped by a bright white light. Just for a moment, but it felt like an eternity.

She felt her chest heave.

He took hold of her other wrist, lifted it high. “Now,” He murmured, leaning down to plant a kiss on her collarbone. “Be a good girl and stay still for this part.”

At those words, Rey froze. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that his face was hovering just over the old jagged port scar over her left collarbone. His eyes fluttered open, and then widened. Like he was just realizing exactly what he’d done.

Suddenly, she was acutely aware that this was the first time that he was seeing her scar in the light. And everything about his expression was discomforting. He seemed so uncertain, shocked, pitying. Like they were back to where they’d been so many years ago.

Rey sucked in a breath. The room was suddenly beginning to feel very small. Ben was still hovering over her, holding her wrists, and she couldn’t bear to look at his face like this.

She wrenched her hands free from him, more forcefully than she should’ve. He looked shocked, and ashamed.

“Shit—” She groaned, putting her face in her hands. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s not you, but can we just stop for a bit?”

Ben hesitated, then pulled back. “Of course,” He said. Slowly, they disentangled themselves, put the blankets on themselves, and lay side by side in bed, staring at the ceiling until Rey found herself counting the dimples like black stars. She wrapped her arms around herself in shame, wishing she could just be normal for once in her goddamn life. Why, why did she do that? She’d fucked him plenty of times already, it had never triggered her like that before. She wanted to apologize, but doing so would only add more questions that she wasn’t prepared to answer.

She glanced over. He was lying flat, his folded behind his head, like he was sunbathing. From her angle, his expression looked glazed.

“So…” Rey finally said. “How was your day?”

He turned his head towards her, and it seemed to take him a moment to register her comment.“It was fine. I actually bumped into your good friend Finn,” He said casually.

That piqued her interest. “Hmph?” She flipped over and placed her chin on his chest. After a brief pause, he wrapped one arm around her back. “How did that go?” She asked. Finn and Ben didn’t have any active problems with each other, but she knew just how protective Finn was of her. She was still avoiding Finn out of respect for Rose, but it was admittedly getting difficult to go that long without talking to her friend.

“It was okay, I guess?” He said uncertainly. “We talked about the shelf exams, mostly. He asked how you’re doing. Said you haven’t talked much in a couple weeks.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What did you tell him?”

He shrugged. “I just said you’re fine, and that we’re studying for surgery together.”

Though Rey didn’t said it aloud, she knew that Finn would have figured out by now that they were doing more than ‘studying.’ That would be a fun conversation as soon as things cleared up between the three of them.

“He also asked me for some advice,” Ben continued. “I don’t know why, apparently word got around that I’m the class repository for gossip and emotional breakdowns, but…” He sighed and blew out a puff of air. “It’s fine. He said he likes someone, but…” He frowned and glanced at Rey curiously. “They got into a fight, and now he’s trying to figure out how to fix it.” There was a pause, a near imperceptible tilt of the head, and tightening of his grip around her shoulder. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Rey pursed her lips nervously.

He raised an eyebrow. “Please tell me it’s not you.”

“No, no, absolutely not,” Rey shook her head furiously, suddenly feeling heat rush back up to her cheeks. “It’s—” She hesitated, considering whether she had a right to share it with Ben. But then, she thought, he knows enough already. He might as well be brought up to speed. So, she explained as succinctly as she could about the three of them and the current mess of miscommunication between him and Rose.

He was silent for a long while before he finally nodded and said “I see. I guess…good to hear that Rose has moved on.”

“What did you tell Finn?” She asked.

“Well, I’m not going to pretend that I am in any way competent dealing with love and relationships—”

Rey’s heart skipped a beat.

“—But I suggested that he do some grand gesture if he really means it, like chick flick stuff. I hope I made the right call. I know Rose is into all of that.” His expression went steely for a moment, but then he shook his head and returned to her. “Whether he listens to me is up to him.”

Rey smiled softly and kissed him on the cheek. “That was nice of you.” And it certainly eased her conscience to know that Finn definitely felt the same way about Rose. 

“Yeah, I’m a very nice guy,” He murmured sarcastically. “Finn’s alright though. We ended up spending awhile together, spotting each other’s reps and such.”

Reps? “Wait, where did you even meet him?” Some part of her brain must’ve initially assumed that they’d bumped into each other at the grocery store or somewhere else innocuous.

 He raised an eyebrow. “At the gym this morning.”

She stared at him, bewildered. “You go to my gym?”

A small smile crept up to Ben’s lips, and he playfully put a hand on his stomach. “Yeah…what, you think I got this body with push-ups alone?”

Rey flushed and shifted so that she was looking at him and her chin was a little further away from his racing heart. “I never see you there though.”

“Oh yeah, that.” He rolled his eyes and let out a long sigh. “I tend to go when it opens on weekdays.”

“You—” She broke off, then groaned theatrically and sat up. “Oh God, you’re one of those people who goes at five am.”

He seemed confused. “Is that such a bad thing? We usually have to be at the hospital before seven anyway. I think it’s appropriate to get a workout and shower in beforehand.”

So fucking practical of him, it was horrifying. “We were texting at midnight on Tuesday.”

“And?”

She usually needed an espresso to stay upright on six hours of sleep. Anything less was positively unbearable. Was he really that disciplined with his sleep schedule, or did he just have a really good coke supply? “So you were up at midnight and at the gym at five?”

“What else would you propose that I do with my time?”

She snorted. “You could try sleeping in the extra hour.”

“Ah, sleep.” He said dismissively. “We’re medical students, we’ll sleep when we’re dead.”

Rey couldn’t help but start to chuckle at his line. Ben, in turn, began to laugh softly too, a comforting sound that gave her the confidence to let her laughter grow stronger and louder until she snorted, fell back into his arms and they lay there together. Laughing together at nothing and everything, staring at the dappled ceiling and feeling each other’s skin and the old fabric of her duvet cover.

Eventually, she shifted her body further up the bed until her head was positioned against the pillow. Ben seemed nearly unaware. He was still fully awake, but his gaze was unfocused, with one arm wrapped around her shoulders and the other softly tracing its way up and down the line of her waist. The gesture barely even seemed sexual in that moment, even while both of them were fully naked. It felt calming to be held and touched in such a gentle way. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, feeling her pulse ease as she tilted her head down.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself looking at the top of her door, still shut. She often tried to ignore it, but the old brown crucifix was there, nailed into the wall, too high for her to reach.

She closed her eyes, thinking back to Ben’s mezuzah, and turned towards him. “Can I ask you something…personal?”

He straightened, then nodded.

“Are you…particularly religious?”

Ben’s eyes widened, but then narrowed again as he seemed to work through his memories and realize that she was asking him sincerely.

“I was just wondering because of your mezuzah,” She said. “I’m just curious, if it’s too much you don’t have to answer.”

“No, it’s…fine.” He said, glancing up towards the door and crucifix before turning back to her. “I have a bit of a complicated relationship with it,” He admitted. “Both my parents are Jewish, but neither of them were very adherent. I went to Hebrew school for a bit when I was a kid, but they stopped making me go to Temple when I was like…sixteen.”

“Do you still…practice stuff?” Rey asked. She didn’t want to ask if he believed in any of it; it wasn’t her business, and it certainly wasn’t something that she felt like she could answer herself.

He considered her question for a moment, then shrugged. “I mean, I don’t eat pork, I meet up with the other Jewish people in our class for holidays, but that’s most of it. I used to have a necklace, but I lost it years ago. That mezuzah was a housewarming gift from my mom.”

“And you still use it?”

“Yeah,” He said casually. “It just seems like the right thing to do.” It was such a no-brainer response, like she’d asked him oh, do you use the broom to clean your kitchen floor? “It’s the small things, I guess. They remind me that I’m part of something bigger than myself.”

Rey let out a long sigh, then set back and glanced up at the crucifix. “Does it ever bother you, being here and seeing all that we do, while you still hold onto those beliefs?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Not really.”

“Not all the dead people or—” She gestured with her shoulder. “The oncology ward?”

He pursed his lips and shook his head. “Do you really want to have that kind of conversation?” He asked.

Rey shook her head.

“Shit happens,” He said. “I don’t claim to know why or how, but it’ll be our job to do what we can for people. You can’t fault anyone for wanting a little extra help.”

She frowned to herself, then closed her eyes and pulled the blanket up past her chest, as if to hug herself. “Mum took me to church all the time, even before we moved to Hamilton,” She began. “When I got diagnosed, everyone there wanted to get involved in praying for me and stuff, and it just drove me fucking crazy. I didn’t see how anyone living or working in a hospital could hold onto any religious beliefs. I kept going for her, but after she died—” She hugged herself, then realized what she’d just said and looked over to Ben, who seemed stunned. This was the first time she’d told him that Mum was really dead. “—I couldn’t go back. But…” Tears were beginning to well at her eyes, and she quickly wiped them away and lowered her eyes. “I still won’t take down the crucifix or the icons.” She said with a dry, mirthless laugh. “I can’t stand to look at them, but I feel like I’m crazy for keeping them up.”

“They do add a bit of colour to your living room,” Ben mused softly.

Rey turned to him and smiled sadly. “You know, there’s a tradition that we have called a Slava, where every family is assigned a patron saint. You make all these special meals and get them blessed by the priest, then throw a big party for the whole community.” She sighed, remembering the smell of fresh kolac. “It’s probably the one thing I miss about church.”

“That sounds really interesting,” He said, sitting up onto his elbows. “Who’s yours?”

“Saint Elijah,” She said with a knowing smile.

He raised an eyebrow. “Our Elijah?”

She nodded. “Yep. August second is his day.” It had been her grandfather’s slava, and she had never thought too hard about it as a kid, beyond knowing the general stories about the prophets, the cave, and teaching his successor, Elisha. The slava itself was just a day for cooking and a brief bit of ceremony. But her first tumour excision had been coincidentally scheduled for that day, and the morning they drove in, there’d been a giant storm. The thunder had sounded like hooves pounding against the earth. Mum had sworn that it was a sign that he was watching over them.

Ben regarded her for a moment, then nodded approvingly. “That’s pretty interesting,” He finally said. “I always liked that story.”

“I didn’t mean to bring it up, it’s really stupid—” She started.

“No, no don’t apologize for that,” He broke in, wrapping his arm around her in a gentle embrace. “It’s not stupid at all.”

Rey shut her eyes and held him tightly, taking in his scent, then relaxed her grip and put her head on his shoulder. “I feel like I should’ve let all this go a long time ago.”

To her surprise, Ben placed a finger under her chin and tilted it towards him. In the dimming sunlight, his face was bathed in orange and gold that made him look soft and radiant. “You’re holding onto your past,” He said softly. “It’s the human thing to do.”

She pressed her lips together as he released her, even as she felt a lone tear escape from her eye. “They’re relics,” She whispered shakily. “They barely mean anything.”

Something in his expression shifted, but Rey could not say what. Gently, he took hold of her cheek and kissed her forehead, before brushing her tear away with his thumb. “But they remind you of your mom, right?”

Rey felt her face slacken, but she said nothing.

“I think…” He began. “Not to play therapist again, but, maybe you hold onto these things for the same reason that most people do.”

She stared at him expectantly.

“It makes you feel like you’re not alone.”

Rey suddenly felt her heart stop in her chest. She looked down in shame and pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, lowering his hand in shame.

Rey leaned in and kissed his cheek. “It’s alright.” She said softly. “I really like talking to you,” She admitted, tracing her hand along the spot. It was more than that. She liked being with him. He made her feel like she could tell him anything, and he…understood, or at least let her feel these things freely.

Ben’s expression turned steely, but it faded just as quickly, revealing the softness in his features just as the last rays of light crested over the windowsill. He closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and took hold of her hand, before they lowered them to the mattress, their fingers lacing together.

“I like talking to you too,” He said. And there it was, for just a heartbeat, a shakiness that he nearly betrayed.

They talked and talked until it grew late, and the room became enveloped in shadows. And when they felt comfortable enough, they returned to the sex. Slowly, at first. Ben asked delicately where it was okay for him to touch her, and once they found their rhythm, they moved faster and rougher until Rey felt like she could cry with pleasure.

She woke up the next morning to the first rays of sunlight, and turned over to find Ben still spooning her from behind. He groaned softly as she turned over, then opened his eyes halfway as she gently reached up and held his cheek.

“Morning,” She whispered before leaning in to kiss him.

He smiled dreamily when their lips parted. “Sleep well?” He asked.

Rey nodded and kissed him again, deeper and deeper, and wrapped her arms around his neck while he pulled her in tight. She shivered at the feel of his hard cock against her upper thigh, and clumsily reached a hand down into his pants to take hold of the shaft. Slowly, delicately, she began to push and pull. She revelled in each small sigh of pleasure that came from his lips, then closed her eyes and murmured soft praises as he began to kiss her neck and collarbone.

“You’re so good,” Ben whispered into her neck as he smoothly pulled down her panties and reached to trace along her towards her clit. “Already so wet for me,” He murmured, kissing her sternum and the top of her breast. “So…so good.”

She grinned and buried her face into his neck. A small, strangled sound escaped from the back of her throat as he slid the first finger inside her. Then the other. She writhed when the third came in and curled herself into him. “Fuck yes,” She said, shivering with each new kiss.

Distantly, some part of her tensed when he got too close to the area of her scar. But when he moved away, she could pretend that she was in heaven.

***

Three years out from her medical school interview, and Rey honestly couldn’t remember what exactly she’d said when they asked the inevitable question about why she had chosen that path. The wording was irrelevant, it was probably an incomprehensible salad of esoteric bullshit concocted from bits of advice given to her by Jannah, Paige, and various McMaster graduates. If there was anything she’d learned at that point, it was that non-patients didn’t always understand the complicated relationship with the healthcare system that she had.

She remembered other parts of the interview. They’d asked about her experience working or volunteering. One of the volunteering items that Rey had listed in her medical school application, and possibly the thing she’d discussed the most, was her time at camp.

Camp Trailblazers, up in Muskoka, was the place to go for kids who’d had cancer, or had recently recovered from it. Rey had heard all about it when she was in the hospital, but she was always too sick to go. By the time she was out of treatment, she had aged out. So the first summer after undergrad, when she was alone in Hamilton and had nothing else to do, she decided to volunteer there as a counsellor. It was amazing; everyone was kind and welcoming, and the kids were lovely. They fed and housed her for free, and all she had to do was engage her campers and bring them to their activities each day. She went back every summer after that, even after starting medical school.

There was a particular ease to being in that environment that she had never shared with her friends. It was a place where the kids were normal, no one talked about their cancer, but everyone still knew. And everyone knew it was okay. No one would say “I’m so sorry” or “are you okay?” because everyone had heard it before. No one was okay, and that was okay.

When Rey went swimming in the lake with the kids in her cabin, one of the boys noticed her port scar, still crudely bisecting the upper corner of her collarbone. Ugly scars were usually ugly because the doctor had let a student or junior resident try their hand at the suturing. But no one said a word. They exchanged a look, then the boy just smiled, offered his hand, and the two jumped in together.

When word spread to the other kids in the cabin, they started coming up to her at meals, asked what she had, if she went to Sick Kids like them, or if she knew their doctors. Skywalker, Caleen, Loy. She answered them in a few short sentences, and would always feel the tension in her shoulders release as the kids took the information in stride and went back to eating. As time went on, she discovered that she wasn’t even the only survivor volunteering as a counsellor. Though the others had been brought up at Sick Kids, so they didn’t know the same people.

One of the most popular camp activities was high ropes. Deep in the forest, the camp had three levels of courses in ascending order. The highest point was nearly three stories high, in line with the tops of the pine trees.

At the time, Rey was not much of a climber. She had loved playing on monkey bars way back in primary school, but her sedentary teen years had sapped much of her upper body strength and courage. Of course, that wasn’t something she could tell her kids. She was their counsellor, their big sister. She was the cool one studying to be a doctor! Wherever they went, she had to watch them like a hawk. One by one, the kids worked their way up the levels, and at each stage a counsellor would stay behind with the stragglers who were too scared to continue.

A boy, no more than ten years old, loudly declared that he was going to go right up to the highest point, and Rey was obligated to follow. Trembling, she climbed up the rope bridge behind him, and reached the top platform out of breath and nearly in tears. Despite the chorus of whoops from their cabin-mates, she couldn’t bring herself to look down and wave. 

It was so silly in hindsight, the way that her mind kept screaming at her that she was in danger, she was going to fall and crack her skull open and that would be it. Had she not already been through far more harrowing things?

Hadn’t they all?

As she breathed some curses and wondered about the likelihood of the rope breaking or her helmet falling off, she found herself looking at the boy, who had already started moving across the course of small tire swings. He made it to the second, the third, and then…he just stopped.

From the platform, she asked if he was alright. But he was paralyzed, looking straight down, unable to turn and meet her eyes. And then, he began to say in a small voice, so quietly that she could barely hear.

Help.

She didn’t know what came over her, but as soon as the boy said the word, she took a step to the edge of the platform and reached out for the rope. One foot forward, then another. She felt the rough raw rope under her palms and gripped it for dear life. She used every bit of strength that she had in her measly body to make it to the first tire. Then, she swung forward and latched onto the second. The whole time, every cell in her body was crying out for sweet death. She wanted to get off, even if that meant unhooking herself and flying to the earth.

But the boy was still sitting there, and he hadn’t moved.

She said something to him, I’m coming, I’m almost there, just hold on, you’re okay.

Finally, she swung over to the third tire where he was sitting, and placed a firm hand on his back. I’m here. Let’s get to the end, and then we’ll get down.

He looked at her, furrowed his brow incredulously, his lip trembling, then nodded and continued. She followed him, always only half an inch away. Guiding him, comforting him, telling him not to look down and that they would be okay. And with every word, every movement, she felt the fear in her own body ease, the shaking stop, and something resembling confidence begin to set in. For the briefest of moments, it felt like serenity.

She was safe and secure, even tied to the flimsy ropes twenty metres above the ground. She was going to make it to the other side. She would get him out of this.

The others congratulated the pair as they crossed over, then slowly began to help them climb down to the course. The shaking came back as soon as they unhooked themselves, but then the boy hugged her tight and it dissipated just as quickly.

She began to work on her pull-ups at the gym after returning from camp. And a year later, she was leading the kids all the way to the top of the high ropes course, through the tire swings and the rope ladders and the loose wooden platforms no bigger than her palms. It wasn’t easy, she had to stop frequently to catch her breath, and she never would have dared to try those things on her own. But at some point, she realized that, no matter how scared she was, when she had someone who needed help and guidance, who was just as vulnerable…she felt like she could overcome it. Hell, she could wrestle a bear if it meant keeping those kids safe.

Fear was a funny thing. It was an intrinsic survival mechanism, but could be utterly paralyzing. It could creep up on anyone in the strangest moments, but be could be easily suppressed by the most mundane things. Practicing a speech beforehand, having a good meal, ignoring the smells. Not being alone.

When she went to camp the summer before starting third year of med school, one of the teenage girls assigned to her cabin asked her why she wanted to be a doctor so badly.

Or, rather, she inelegantly said something like: “You are insane to want to go back.”

Being in the hospital was a universally terrifying and deeply traumatic experience. They had all seen the health system at its best and worst. They’d all played at being the adults in the room while their parents cried, they’d all had some form of poison in their veins, and they’d all been test subjects for barely competent students and residents. How could she bring herself to be the doctor in this scenario? How could she live with herself as the one with the needle and knife? Wasn’t she afraid to go back?

Rey didn’t have an answer at the time for the girl, but later came to understand what it would have been. When she was taking care of someone, she felt like she could be brave. When she was wearing her scrubs and stethoscope, she could pretend, for just a second, that she wasn’t as anxious and terrified as the patients around her. She felt like she had real power.

One day, she hoped, she would find it in herself to go back to the place that felt like home and haunted her nightmares. She would take hold of someone’s hand and help them understand that they would be okay. They might never return to the person that they once were, they may never even be healed from their physical ailment, and even if they did they would be marked for the rest of their lives, however long or short that might be.

But in that place, and in that moment, they would be okay. And maybe one day, she’d feel that way too.

Chapter Text

Ben didn’t know why he went to the playroom that day. Maybe he was just tired, a little bit delusional, and perturbed. He’d needed a break from the team all week. He was tired of following the students and residents around in the mornings, pretending that he was one of them. He was long over their irritated stares, the bitter words whispered under their breaths, their incensed comments about how he didn’t need to be there with them. He didn’t deserve to be among them. He wasn’t one of them, not yet. And he had no recourse, no avenue or valid reason to complain because, how could he have real problems? Dr. Skywalker had been grooming him to become a doctor for seemingly his entire life. He had marks, he had connections, he had research. He had it made. 

He grumbled to himself as he stalked through the halls of Coruscant, winding through unfamiliar pathways and isolated hallways covered with wet white paint and smelling of sawdust. His nose crinkled as he found new freshly painted doors, one after another. Each time he stopped, he felt a rush of anxiety, he struggled to breathe, water rushed to his tear ducts and only subsided when he kept moving, searching for a new place to go, a way to loop back around to the entrance, or something that he could use as a good enough excuse for ditching.

Uncle Luke was holding his clinic on the second floor. Ben did not have the bandwidth to lurk in the corner all afternoon like a lanky monster, watching silently and emotionlessly while he explained to anxious and often crying parents how their kids’ tumours were doing. Whenever they had a moment alone, he would ask if he’d receive any updates about med school interviews. Ben would say no, then he would sigh and return to his work, unable to hide his disappointment. Dr. Skywalker’s ‘prodigy’ was failing before the real challenge had even begun.

Western and Ottawa were already off the table, along with every other school outside of Ontario. McMaster and Toronto still hadn’t said a word. That Stanford program was still technically an option…if they accepted his proposal…but how could he explain that to his family?

Dad was still trying to convince him that an invite would come any day now, like it was something that he could control through sheer force of will. He kept brushing aside Ben’s perfectly reasonable explanations of the statistics with his usual never tell me the odds spiel. It was fucking exhausting even trying to talk to him about what he could not understand.

Mom had clearly registered that something was going wrong and was starting to spiral in her own little way. Just yesterday she’d suggested that he try a last-ditch application to the Irish schools. She (or maybe his lola) had also heard from a friend’s sister’s nephew’s cousin that Australia was still a viable option, even at this time of year. Or maybe Toronto would come in, they tended to do things later, right?

He didn’t know how much more he could take, not from his parents or Luke or anyone else in his life. He could already see his future clear as day. The rest of the rejections would come in, and he’d either be stuck in Hamilton or Montreal doing a masters and redoing his applications, once, twice, hoping and waiting for someone to put him out of his misery.

Maybe he went to the playroom because he needed to decompress. And what better way to do so than playing Guitar Hero with sick children?

There was a box of blue masks sitting on a mahogany table at the entrance, right next to a large bottle of half-full hand sanitizer and a small plaque reminding everyone of the ongoing outbreak on the wards. Ben complied, then hunched over to sign himself in. He wrote down ‘Ben Solo,’ the time, then stopped suddenly, pen hovering over the empty space labelled ‘ward room/relation to patient.’

Shit, so this was one of those exclusive playrooms.

He hesitated, raised his head and glanced around at the people in the room. Two old silver-haired women were hovering over the crafts table and computers, both wearing blue volunteer vests. One was taller, with a long straw-like braid that stopped halfway down her back. The other had a shorter bob cut covering her ears. Three young boys were sitting on the couch to his right facing the half-hidden flatscreen TV, passionately playing a game of Mario kart. A pair of twins were jumping with every rough turn, and a smaller bald boy was giggling along. Must’ve been brothers. No getting in their way for awhile.

A mother and son were working away at a trivia game on the computer. An older teenager was playing Solitaire. To his left, a young girl, no more than six, was deep into her finger-painting. And on the far side of the table, isolated from the rest of the room, a kid, no more than thirteen, was working away on their own project. They looked familiar on initial glance, but they were half-hidden behind the tall IV machine. He could see that they were wearing a light blue bandana, which contrasted well against their hospital gown.

He turned back to the sign-in sheet.

“How are you today?”

Ben almost jumped out of his skin. Braid was standing right next to him, staring expectantly, her eyes crinkling at the edges. She was at least a full head shorter than him, her hands behind her back like a child. On her breast was a large pin: Hello! My name is Debra, surrounded by colourful smiley face stickers.

“I’m…” He stopped himself. Good? No. Alright? Fuck no. He sniffled and adjusted his mask, then pointed to the sheet. “It says here that I need to be related to a patient.”

She nodded, no longer smiling under her mask. “That is correct. Are you accompanying anyone?”

Ben stared at her, his eyes wide, then glanced down, realizing that he was still wearing the baggy green hospital-issue scrubs. Fuck, his eyes were probably a bit red too. He knew it was from rubbing them furiously, but someone like Debra would think he’d just been crying in a bathroom like a drunk girl at a party.

“I—” He said, unable to stop his voice from droning . “I—am…visiting...”

“He’s with me,” A voice said.

Ben and Debra turned in unison towards the voice. It was the kid—a girl, he assumed—at the far end of the table. They looked right at Debra, then turned to face Ben.

“He’s my cousin,” The girl said, tilting her head. “He’s just visiting me while on break from work.”

Debra turned to Ben for confirmation.

“Yep,” He said awkwardly. “Yeah, I’m just…stopping by to say hi.” He gestured towards the kid. “…Cousin.”

Debra looked as if she was about to call their bluff, but then she nodded and seemed to smile wide under her mask. “Okay, just please make sure to write down your time in and time out when you leave. And please wash your hands.”

Ben nodded, and she turned on one heel to resume hovering.

He glanced to his left. They were no longer looking at him, and instead were laser-focused on their work. The brothers laughed and cheered at the Mario couch. With a small sigh, he went to the far end of the table, and sat down across from the kid with the blue bandana. They were arranging multi-coloured beads on a clear pegboard; reds, greens, blacks. The image was starting to resemble a flower, perhaps even a rose.

Ben pushed aside a large jar of multi-coloured beads aside so that he could see them, unobstructed. They were slight of frame, very pale, with a small scar on their right cheek and clusters of cannulae attached to the port above their collarbone, and their left hand. Instantly, it dawned on him that he’d seen this kid before. She was one of Uncle Luke’s teenage inpatients, maybe fifteen, the one he would chat with on rounds while Ben and the rest of the team lingered around the bed, sleep-deprived and dissociating. The British one who liked to sketch landscapes in her room at sunrise, the one with the stage three abdominal tumour that they were still trying to identify. Neuroblastoma? Still iffy. Fibrosarcoma? Who knew. Either way the outlook wasn’t great, and she was already starting her fourth chemo cycle. Ben knew that he had written a couple of paragraphs of the case report attached to her ID over the winter break, even if he didn’t know her name.

“Thanks for that,” He murmured, suddenly feeling a pang of guilt. All of Luke’s patients were starting to run together in his mind, and he was terrible with names to begin with.

“Don’t mention it,” She said casually, without looking up. Even with the mask on, he could see a trace of a smile.

A moment passed, and Ben began to look around the table for something to occupy himself with. He pulled a large square pegboard towards him, along with a pair of tweezers. He didn’t know what he was looking for, so he decided that he would start grabbing some blues from the jar.

“I’m Ben, by the way,” He said.

The girl looked up, jade-green eyes twinkling. “I’m Teodora.”

He tilted his head. “Tee-o—How do you pronounce that?”

They must’ve realized that he was confused. Immediately, she rolled her eyes and pulled down her mask, revealing a nasogastric tube under a large piece of medical tape. “Tay-o-do-ra.” She said slowly and emphatically, before pushing it back up.

Ben hesitated, shivered, then said “Teodora.” It came out smoother than he expected, and rolled off his tongue without much effort. But nevertheless, he repeated it a couple of times. It wasn’t the first Slavic name he’d heard, so luckily he had some grasp of the accent.

She nodded, perhaps a little impressed. “Aren’t you one of the residents—or, students, I guess—with Dr. Skywalker?”

He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m just shadowing him for now,” he said. “I’m still in university.” No point explaining how he’d landed such a position.

“Oh…” She seemed disappointed, with her gaze a little downturned. But just as quickly, she straightened and then tilted her head. “What are you doing here though? This is only the most exclusive club for us cancer-stricken children and traumatized family members.”

Ben chuckled softly to himself and took a large handful of beads from the jar, spreading them out on the table. “Well, you lied to the bouncer to get me in,” He mused, picking up a few light blues with his tweezers.

“I did do that, didn’t I?” Teodora joked, tilting her head. “I’ve probably cursed you though, with all the cancer cells floating around in the air,” She waved her tweezers for dramatic effect. “Give it a few months and you’ll probably get your own funky little diagnosis.”

Ben froze and stared at her. His brain registered that she’d meant it as a joke, but it was so dark that he didn’t know if it would be appropriate to laugh.

“I jest,” Teodora said emphatically. She placed another bead on her peg board. “So are you trying to become an oncologist or something?”

Ben blinked. He honestly didn’t know how to answer that. Yeah, that’s what the family’s been hoping for since I was ten. Maybe, but I’m probably too much of an asshole for it. Can’t start applying to residencies while I’m still taking intro to Greek Mythology to boost my GPA. I’ll give it a shot if I don’t jump off the hospital roof first.

He pursed his lips under the mask and nodded, placing a few light blues onto the centre points of his board. “Something like that,” was all he said. He didn’t know what he was trying to make. A wing, maybe? Looked like a wing. He could make something out of that.

“That’s so cool,” He heard her whisper under her breath. Then, she shot her head up, her eyes growing wide with excitement. “I’m not technically starting biology until September, but I’m trying to get as much of a head start as I can. Dr. Skywalker told me that it’s best to get a fundamental grasp of human anatomy before I start trying to memorize anything clinical.”

He considered her words, then offered a shrug and added a white peg to his board. Maybe he could turn it into a butterfly wing. “That’s probably a good idea, yeah.”

“Do you have any life advice that you could impart for university? Or medical school applications?”

Ben looked up.

Her eyes were squinting in a mischievous, conspiratorial sort of way. “You know,” She leaned in slightly. “If I make it that far.”

Ben gaped at her, again startled by her brashness. She seemed so enthusiastic, and he would’ve believed that she was completely oblivious to the reality of her situation if not for her last sentence. His eyes fell, briefly, to the IV machine looming over her and the constant dripping of fluids and nutrients. How—how could she still have any hope for her future?

“I don’t know,” He said in a low voice. “I guess you should just keep working hard at school. And get some good research experience. Call up any doctors you know and they might have something.”

She nodded, clearly noting every word that he said. “Thank you,” She said.

Ben nodded, suddenly feeling a sting in his chest.

They both returned to their beads, and for several silent minutes they sorted out dozens of colours and continued to set them up. Teodora seemed off in her little world, making what was increasingly looking like a realistic red rose. Ben found himself fumbling with his own beads, swearing silently as he adjusted a black, blue—shit, two fell off—white, blue—until he began to turn the design into something resembling a butterfly.

He had to admit, even if manipulating those beads was a frustrating endeavour with his large hands and inexperience with the tools, it was a bit calming. In fact, just being in the playroom was calming, without the constant incessant beeps from pagers and monitors, and trying to weave around emotional family members and way-too-upbeat nurses.

The boys at the TV let out a series of whoops! They must’ve finished a race.

Debra and the Bob cut lady were still hovering, but keeping their distance from their side of the crafts table. In the silence, a few fleeting thoughts passed through Ben’s head. Could he just stay here for the day and avoid Uncle Luke until tomorrow? Was this girl with family?

Another, smaller thought crossed his mind. A poison needle that pierced his heart and made his hand shake. Car’s in the hospital garage. I could just go and close the windows.

He shook his head, sniffled, and readjusted his mask.

“That’s looking really good,” said Teodora suddenly, gesturing towards his board with her tweezers.

“Thanks,” He muttered, nodding to her rose. “I think you have more experience than I do though. That looks fantastic.”

She beamed. “Thank you,” She said. “I come in here a lot, to be fair. The beads are my favourite thing to do, they have books of designs to work with and nobody tries to take the console from you. Sitting here for hours with these colours is very…” She hesitated, waving a hand over the table.

“Meditative,” They said in unison.

After a pause, Teodora smiled and returned to her work.

Ben did the same, occasionally passing a glance at this girl, though each time he felt something pierce his heart. He wondered if it was sympathy, or maybe guilt.

He considered checking his email. Maybe there’d be good news, something to turn this around.

They spent what felt like hours sitting there, carefully constructing their delicate pieces while exchanging light jokes and discussing some good books and movies they’d seen. Neither of them pushed the other on their home lives. He realized quickly that Teodora was not interested in sharing too much non-hospital information. She was much happier to educate him on her chemo cocktail (they were currently trying vincristine, doxorubicin, and cisplatin).

Debra returned when they finished their pieces, complimented each of them in turn, then took their boards to the counter near the window to iron the beads together.

“How’s your life going, otherwise?” Teodora asked, twining her fingers and setting her elbows on the table.

Ben’s mouth fell open. Out of all of the things that they’d just spent the hour discussing, he felt most ill-equipped to talk about this one. How could he look this girl in the eye and complain about his own first-world problems? She was here, hooked up to her IVs and regularly receiving poison to shrink a tumour that was slowly killing her, in preparation for surgeries and chemo and radiation that may also kill her.

He pursed his lip and nodded to himself, stopping for only a heartbeat to laugh dryly. “I’m doing alright,” He said quietly. “Living the dream.” He raised his gaze to Teodora, who did not seem to buy it. But she said nothing, and instead stood up and pretended to stretch out his neck and shoulders.

Suddenly, he flinched, feeling his phone buzz in his back pocket. He reached in, then pulled it out and saw:

Luke: Come to clinic.

Ben sighed. No getting out of it.

“I have to go,” He said, trying hard to mask his apprehension.

“Oh,” Said Teodora sadly. She tilted her head. “D’you want to get your butterfly?”

He blinked, then looked down. “No, you can take it if you want,” He said dismissively.

She shook her head furiously. “It’s your picture, you should come back and pick it up.”

Ben looked between her and Debra, who nodded in agreement and held up the iron. “We’re closing in a couple of hours, but if you come back Monday, I’ll give it to you.”

He nodded, then returned to the girl. “Maybe I can see you Monday? If not on rounds first.”

Teodora chuckled and reached up to adjust her bandana. “Mum’s taking me home tomorrow, but yeah, maybe I’ll see you soon.” She said. Then, just briefly, he noted her shoulders hunch, and one thin bruised hand fly to her stomach. She rubbed the area for a moment, as if she’d just been bruised, then sighed and released it.

Ben raised his head and nodded, then drew in a deep shaky breath. He had to go, he couldn’t be here anymore. He pushed back the chair, stood up, turned, put it away, one step, another. He was halfway out the door when he finally heard her say in a low voice.

“Hey Ben.”

He turned slowly, his chest growing tight, and met her soft gaze. She was still seated at the table, staring up with wide eyes and furrowed brow. In that moment, he had to remind herself that she was just a kid. A small, frail, incredibly sick kid. But the look on her face made her appear so much older and wiser than she was. Like she was looking deep into his soul and seeing something in him that even he could not yet understand.

“You’re going to be okay.”

Chapter Text

Anesthesiology was a unique specialty to rotate on as a medical student. There were no rounds, no clinics, and no singular supervisor. Each day, the student was meant to show up to their assigned OR a half hour before the doctors and set up as many of the drugs as possible. Then, one by one, they would meet with each assigned surgical patient for the day and participate in their operations. Only when the last patient was handed over to the nurses would she be allowed to go home. Ben succinctly delivered this information to her on Sunday morning while they were still tangled up in the sheets together and recovering from the (frankly, incredible) sex that they’d had not one hour ago.

He let out a long yawn, then took his phone off her night-stand and air-dropped a picture of the drug list that he’d saved. It was a somewhat blurry image of a page in a notebook. The drugs were written in black ink in his impeccable handwriting, but there were some harder-to-read notes in the margins, likely scribbled hastily between cases.

Propofol-1-2mg/kg IV

Midazolam 0.5-4mg IV

Lidocaine (ask)

Ketamine (ONLY in trauma)

Fentanyl/remi/sufen (docs do it)

Ondansetron (anti-emetic…3-4mg? Wtf?)

Dexamethasone (ask, usually 3-4mg)

Rocuronium 0.45-1.2mg/kg IV (ask if they prefer sux!!)

Atropine (only if doc says so!!)

Glycopyrrolate+Neostigmine (wait for them to say so)

Phenylephrine—10mg+100ml 0.9% NaCl. Start a 20ml infusion (if long sx or HTN)

Her eyes started glazing over when she got to ketamine, but he assured her that the list was only a general overview. The doctors would take care of most of the higher-level drugs and tell her what to draw up for complex patients.

“You just need to know that they’re going to throw you in the deep end,” He said, his voice even, though his gaze was tender with concern. “Holdo seems sweet but Poe…rightly warned me that she can be harsh. She’ll want you to do an intubation or two before lunchtime.”

She nodded and sucked in a breath, feeling her pulse quicken at the thought of putting that tube down a stranger’s throat. Instinctively, her hand flew up to her own neck, but she quickly pivoted and began to scratch at the side. “I’ll be okay,” She said, craning her neck awkwardly. It was silly at this point to still be afraid of the task. She’d literally just finished a month of surgery, for God’s sake. Hours and hours in that room with the lingering smells of burnt flesh and sevofluorane. She should be over it by now, right?

“You will be okay,” echoed Ben.

Before climbing out of bed to get dressed, she kissed him lightly on the mouth, letting her hand linger along his cheek for a moment longer than was needed.

Something compelled her to make breakfast for them that morning. He initially refused the offer and stated that he had some leftovers at home, but she claimed that it was only the courteous thing to do. As a host. But she didn’t protest when he began to help her butter the toast. Or when he beat the eggs and made sure that they didn’t burn on her old frying pan.

Two vegetable omelettes with half-burnt toast and some black coffee. They ate their meals together around her little table, not speaking much but enjoying the morning sun and respite from the rest of their lives. And though Ben finished his coffee in about three sips and chewed his food as loudly as a horse, Rey couldn’t help but stare at him, thinking only about how, for the first time in many years…a second person was making noise in her home.

***

The lights in OR 8 were off when Rey walked in. It was the designated plastics room, but it seemed identical to nearly every other theatre she’d walked past on the way.

She’d received a notification the evening before that she would be placed alongside Dr. Amilyn Holdo, the feared and revered anesthesiologist and program head. This had been the case with most of her classmates, but the advanced knowledge did nothing to ease her mind.

Three patients would be in over the course of the day. First, a forty-year old motorcycle crash survivor was getting jaw surgery now that the swelling in his face had settled (LeFort 3*, as she’d learned over her morning coffee). Next, a ten-year old girl born with a cleft lip and palate was getting an alveolar bone graft**. Finally, a thirty-year old woman was getting her punctured breast implant replaced.

Rey had only begun to draw up the ondansetron when Dr. Holdo entered the room, clad in the vending machine scrubs and a silver scrub cap dotted with faded irises. Despite her seemingly rough uniform, she moved with the same grace as on orientation day, nearly floating from the door to the ventilator.

“Good morning—” Rey began to say, though her voice caught in her throat as Holdo glided past her to check the meds on the table. Her heart stopped for a moment. Had she done something wrong already?

After a few moments, Holdo turned and gave her a quiet nod. “Good morning,” She said. As she moved towards her, Rey found herself petrified. Just then, Holdo moved past her and checked the medications that she’d already laid out.

After a beat she said, “Okay.” She motioned for Rey to come over. 

She held her breath and complied, waiting for the critical jab to come.

“You got almost all of them together, good job. Just be careful where you put syringes with these stickers,” Holdo said, holding up the syringes with bright orange stickers labelled ‘rocuronium’ and ‘remifentanil.’ “The labels are the same colour,” She said matter-of-factly. “You didn’t do anything wrong, but everyone develops their own system to make sure that nothing gets mixed up. It’s something to keep an eye out for.”

Rey nodded. “I understand.”

“Have you seen the patient yet?”

She shook her head nervously, again waiting for the other shoe to drop. “I looked at the chart, but I haven’t met him.”

“Not a problem,” Holdo said breezily. “Just draw up the antibiotics and phenylephrine, and then we can go see the patient together.”

The man was named Klaud, and when they found his bed in pre-op, he was working away on his laptop, which was positioned so high on the table that the top of it obscured half his face. When he peered over and closed it, Rey was almost startled at the sight. He was a tall, stocky man with nearly-yellow skin, covered in bright red scars and bruises from his forehead to the base of his neck. His left eye was swollen half-shut, covered in a violet bruise, and his right eyeball was still half-crimson from hemorrhages. His nose was so crooked that it was nearly sideways, and the left side of his jaw looked disjointed from the rest, like the bone had been snapped in half. If this was what the doctors called ‘settled,’ she could only imagine what he’d looked like on admission.

He smiled wide at Holdo, revealing several missing and broken teeth, then gave a subtle wince and pushed his table aside. He was still in pain, Rey realized. But she hadn’t seen any record of recent painkiller use on his chart.

“Good morning Klaud,” said Holdo.

“Mornin’,” he replied. “Is it time to go?” His voice rose with the end of the sentence. Alberta accent, not unlike several of her classmates.

“Almost,” she smiled warmly. “We just need to go over a few things first. I’m Dr. Holdo, I will be your anesthesiologist today. This is my medical student, Rey.” She motioned for Rey to come to her side like a parent introducing their shy toddler.

Klaud did not seem bothered, but shook both of their hands in turn. Rey slunk back a little as her attending walked through the typical history-taking script of the specialty, noting areas where the vocabulary and cadence of the questioning differed. It was a script designed to be sped through, extremely impersonal, but covering a wide swath of potential concerns. 

It seemed that, well, everything mattered to an anesthesiologist. Not just his medical and surgical history (or lack of), but even little things that the surgeons had never asked. Had he had anything to eat or drink? What was it? What time? Did he have a history of heartburn? Yes? Well, then they needed to understand every little aspect of that. Neck stiffness? Qualify it. Demonstrate the range of motion. Identify exactly when that started and if he’d ever had issues before. Would he open his mouth please, so that she and the student could poke their heads in and try to find the uvula?

Finally, as the questioning concluded, Holdo scribbled something on his chart and said “Very good, is there anything that you would like to ask us?”

“Yeah,” said Klaud, tilting his head. “What kinda drugs are you gonna give me after?” His tone was even and curious, but carried a hint of suspicion.

Rey felt a strange sensation creeping down her spine, and glanced nervously towards her supervisor.

Holdo carefully slid her mask above her nose and lowered the chart to her hip. “It depends on how you’re feeling, but I expect we’ll give you something that we call ‘PCA,’ or ‘patient-controlled anesthesia.’ You will be connected to an IV and given a button to push for a little while, and then I expect that we will send you home with morphine for a few weeks—”

“—I don’t need that stuff,” He interrupted, startling Rey, before glancing between the two of them and crossing his arms with a huff and a nearly imperceptible wince.

You’re insane, was the first thought that appeared in Rey’s mind. She mentally chastised herself just as quickly for thinking so ill of the man.

“I haven’t felt pain or needed any painkillers so far, okay? Not even Tylenol. I have my family, my exercises, and as long as I continue after the surgery I won’t need to put any poison in my body.”

Bullshit. Who did this guy think he was? She could see him wincing with every little movement. There was no evidence that he’d had any history of drug abuse or sensitivities. Why was he pre-emptively refusing the drugs?

Holdo was unfazed. It clearly wasn’t the first time someone had said that to her. “During the surgery, we only give you exactly what your body needs to keep you asleep, no more, no less. This will be a very rough surgery on your body, but if you do not feel comfortable taking painkillers, you are under no obligation to do so.”

He huffed again. “I won’t need them, I’m telling ya. Even if you give me that IV I won’t be using the button.”

Her voice softened. “I understand.”

Rey’s fists clenched at her sides. She shouldn’t have been feeling this frustrated over a patient, she had to be empathetic. But this, this was just idiotic. Without thinking, she looked down, then met Klaud’s eyes and said in a low voice, “You said that you’ve never had surgery before this week, right?”

Klaud said nothing, confirming what she already knew.

“Dr. Holdo is right, this surgery will be a lot on your body,” Stupid stupid stop talking. “You can’t push yourself through the kind of pain you’re going to be feeling,” She paused then, and glanced at her mentor. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of her eyebrows, furrowed. Irritated. Fuck. She was in trouble.

Her gaze fell back to Klaud, as she tried to soften her voice, maybe salvage this moment of insubordination. “Just…please don’t force things, okay? Not when you don’t have to.”

Klaud only frowned, then grimaced and began to rub at the side of his neck.

“It will be your choice,” said Holdo quietly. “But today, everyone is focusing on the surgery. We will see you inside shortly.”

Wordlessly, Rey followed Holdo back to the OR, each moment growing more and more awkward with the lack of communication between them.

Finally, when they reached the ventilator, Holdo said, “Please go get a size 8 endotracheal tube off the shelf.”

Rey ran out to comply with the order, and handed it back to Holdo, who swiftly ripped open the package and set the tube down on the ventilator desk next to a bougie and oxygen mask.

Holdo crossed her arms, then took a deep breath. “You know, it is quite rare for a student to speak over me in front of a patient.” Her voice was measured, betraying little emotion. “You understand that if a patient refuses medication or a procedure, it is never your business to judge them.”

Rey’s eyes widened. She began to shake her head frantically, internally debating the necessity of bowing or maybe getting on her hands and knees. “I’m so sorry, that wasn’t my intention at all.”

“I don’t need you to say sorry,” She said evenly. “But in moments like that, it’s important for us to be a unit. He will be putting our trust into both of us as we put him under, and there can be no conflict there. Conflict between carers, real or apparent, sparks fear in the patient. And that does nothing but make our jobs more difficult.”

Rey nodded, feeling her cheeks flush under the mask in shame. “I understand. I promise that won’t happen again.”

“Good,” said Holdo, turning her back on her. “I trust you to keep that promise.”

As she watched her attending shuffle around and search through drawers, Rey had another thought, and again let it be known, despite the pounding in her heart. Holdo didn’t strike her as particularly angry, so maybe she had a right to ask a question. “Le Fort is a pretty painful surgery though, isn’t it?”

Holdo turned her head and raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve never had it,” Rey murmured nervously, adjusting the back of her rough disposable scrub cap. “I’ve had some abdominal surgeries. But I thought that jaw procedures have really long recovery times.”

She sighed and turned back around to adjust the parameters on the screen. “That’s correct. While they can be useful in reducing TMJ pain, it’s not uncommon for patients to experience chronic pain for at least six months post-op. It’s nearly unbearable without opioids for the first few weeks. He’s going to have a rough go, one way or another. I’ve met plenty of people who tried to tough it out after, or threw up a dose of their medications. They woke up in the middle of the night wailing, telling me it was like their face was trapped in a vice grip.”

Rey paused, then drew in a sharp breath. “What about the PCA?”

Holdo glanced back. “What about it?”

“Is there any point in giving it to him if he refuses to push the button?”

She blinked, then chuckled softly and returned to the screen. “Oh, he will get that one way or another. The patient has very little control of how much medication they’re receiving. If they did, we’d have overdoses left and right. We use that system to keep track of many times they push the button.”

“So if he starts pushing it a lot or refuses altogether—” Rey began.

“—Then someone is sent to go check on him. And give him stronger stuff if need be.” As she said that, she put the pieces of the laryngoscope together and clicked them into place.

Rey nodded slowly in understanding, her eyes never leaving the device as Holdo lowered it onto the desk.

Soon after, the nursing team and surgeons made their appearance, followed by Klaud himself.

“Hello again,” Holdo said kindly, helping him shimmy into his bed. “We’ll get started very soon, just give us one moment.”

Klaud flashed Rey a sharp look, making her shrink back and turn to stand side by side with Holdo over the medications.

“I’m going to induce the anesthesia,” She said in a low voice. “Once he’s asleep, you will bag him and then intubate.”

Rey’s heart nearly stopped, but she nodded in agreement and stepped back. She peeked over Holdo’s shoulder as she did the time-out procedure and delicately placed the oxygen mask over Klaud’s face. Her voice was gentle and measured as she instructed him to breathe in and out. There was a fluid exchange of duties with a nurse, who took hold of the mask while Holdo took a half-step back and began to inject the drugs into his IV.

“Stand beside me,” She said sharply, jolting Rey.

Rey complied and took a step closer.

As soon as she took her place, Holdo turned her head back to her patient. “Okay Klaud, you’re about to feel a bit light-headed, just keep breathing.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Rey watched her carefully attach the syringe with the propofol and slowly begin to inject it. She felt a small shiver that made her grab her left arm, as if the memory of the substance was still lingering in her veins. But just as quickly, she remembered what she was about to do and held her hands at her sides, straight and stiff as a soldier.

When the milky white drug was gone, Holdo disconnected the syringe, placed it on the table, then motioned for Rey with a hand wave to come even closer.

“Klaud?” Holdo asked, peering over.

His eyes were fluttering closed, and he made no effort to answer.

Holdo reached forward and brushed a finger across his eyelashes, but his eyes did not move. He was out cold.

“Okay,” she let out a small exhale, turning to Rey and taking a step back. “Now this is going to happen quickly. Grab onto the mask, head tilt-chin lift position. I will be here the whole time.”

Rey blinked, then clumsily filled the gap so that she was looking down at the mask. She locked eyes with the nurse—D’Arcy, she knew exactly who it was—who, without hesitation, let go of the tube so that Rey could take hold.

Her heart skipped a beat. She grabbed on with both hands and reached her lower fingers around the line of his shattered jaw. She gulped as soon as she felt the bone, was she holding it too hard? Was she about to break something?

Why the fuck was she given such a hard patient? Was Holdo setting her up to fail—

“Take hold of the jaw and tilt his head.”

She let out a shuddered breath, searching her mind for her memory of the CPR session where they’d done this, and tried to do what she wanted. With all the strength in her fingers, she yanked his jaw up, then back to her, making it look like he was craning his neck unnaturally.

“Good, now bag him.”

Rey whirled, hands still on the mask, and heart now pounding. Holdo shuffled aside, revealing, like a magician’s card, a small green balloon that she was squeezing rhythmically.

Rey glanced between the balloon and the mask, wondering how she was supposed to accomplish both at the same time. But then Holdo let go and she reached forward with a start.

The balloon put up some resistance at first as she tried to squeeze it out. Then, it released.

“Is his chest rising or falling?”

Rey’s eyes widened. His chest, it wasn’t doing anything.

“Keep me updated. What do you see?”

“It’s—” Her hands were shaking, her fucking hands were shaking what was she going to do. He wasn’t breathing. Was she killing him? “It’s not moving, what do I—”

In a swift motion, Holdo glided to her side and roughly took hold of Rey’s hand, shifting her fingers so that they were spread out just a little more, and the mask was tight against his broken face.

“The air was escaping. Now try to bag again.”

Mortified, Rey felt for the balloon and squeezed it hard, staring at the chest. This time, it rose to the appropriate level, as though he’d just taken a deep breath. She sighed, relieved, and did it again. Again. Again.

Holdo nodded emphatically and put her hands on her hips. “Good, you’re going to do this for another couple of minutes. We want to get him fully saturated.” She pointed to the screen, where the oxygen saturation level was hovering at about 93%.

The two minutes in question felt like the most agonizing hour of her life. She felt like her muscles were on fire from having to spread herself so thin. At first she was horrified that Holdo might have been too rough with her hands and she was making it worse. She only had the chest movement to go on, and the tidal volume level on the screen in the corner of her eye. Every time it dropped below 300 or so, she turned back with horror and shifted her grip, wondering where the leak was. At one point she leaned in a centimetre too close, and got a whiff of that sickly odour, which made her scrunch up her nose and draw in a shuddered breath. That smell that smell not that fucking smell.

But the knowledge that it was there, that it would not knock her out, and that she was in control, was a small comfort. It guided her all the same to the spot, allowing her to tighten her grip and try again.

Finally, she knew that the minute was coming to an end when Holdo reappeared, laryngoscope in one hand and tube in the other.

“Ready for the next step?”

Rey wasn’t ready. But she nodded, and delicately removed the mask. The nurse caught it just as Holdo handed her the silver scope, cylindrical handle tilted forward, snapping it open and revealing the curved blade.

Following her instructions, Rey slid her right hand under the man’s head, reaching for the nape of his neck, and forced him back into the tilted position with his mouth hanging open. Slowly, she reached the silver blade inside, tracing it over the tongue until it was centred and stable. She pulled the scope up and looked in, but could not see his larynx.

Wordlessly, Holdo took hold of her arm and pushed it forward, as though she were a ballet teacher correcting her arabesque.

Rey grimaced at the force that she was exerting, but then craned her neck again. “I can see it now,” She said, more excited than she felt.

“Good, now take the tube,” said Holdo.

The nurse was holding it for Rey, and she took it with a curt nod and tried to slide it in. Holdo let go, and she immediately felt her position falter. The pounding had reached her ears. She had only seconds, because he wasn’t breathing. What was the saying, she thought as she slid the tube down. Three minutes without oxygen?

She could see the tube moving, but her strength was fading. Holdo had let go. The opening was closing. It wasn’t going further.

“Is it in?” Holdo asked evenly.

Rey shook her head, feeling her lip begin to tremble as a loud series of beeps sounded beside her. She glanced to her right. 85%. 83%. He was desaturating. She was fucking this up, she couldn’t keep struggling or she’d kill him.

“I can’t—” She struggled to say the words, then looked at Holdo, furrowing her brow in a desperate plea.

Holdo understood immediately and reached forward to take hold of both the scope and tube. In what seemed like a single fluid motion, she slid the tube into place and removed the scope. Together with the nurse, they attached the endotracheal tube to the ventilator, squeezed a few puffs of oxygen into his chest for good measure. Within thirty seconds she’d taped the tube into place, flipped a switch to run the ventilator automatically, and took a step back.

Rey stood beside them, utterly petrified. She glanced at the clock in the corner. All of that, and only six minutes had gone by.

Holdo spent the next phase of the procedure instructing her on every little thing. Get the clips from the third drawer. Inject the ondansetron and various other drugs. Enter the information into the computer. She fumbled her way through all of them, and once the blur of action was over and her mentor was sitting, she sat down next to her and exhaled through her nose. She felt like she’d just run a marathon. Despite her hatred of anesthesiology, she wanted to cry and apologize to Holdo for screwing it up.

But her attending didn’t seem angry the way that the surgeons would get. In fact, she didn’t seem to mind at all. She was focused on changing the parameters on the screen, speaking to the surgeons and nurses, and typing information into the computer. It was possible that this was simply a quirk of her character; calm and soft-spoken to mask her intimidating aura and underlying rage. But part of Rey could see that Holdo’s attitude was neutral. The stress of the first six minutes had been normal. The patient had survived. She was just doing her job. It was her student’s first day.

It’s my first time, she reminded herself, taking a deep breath. It was her first time and he was still alive. She hadn’t been kicked out, she was okay.

After what felt like an eternity, the plastic surgeon and his resident turned to Holdo and asked if anesthesia would give the go-ahead for the first cut.

“You may proceed,” Holdo said, her voice soft and melodic once more.

The team began to work, then she let out a sigh, leaned back, and turned to meet Rey’s eyes. “Alright,” She said, crinkling her eyes as if she were hiding a smile under the mask. “How did that feel?”

Rey’s eyes widened. “Umm…” She murmured. “I—strange.” She settled on that word. “Really strange.” Awful, horrific, mortifying. And very strange.

Holdo paused, then nodded slowly and straightened in her chair. “Strange is probably the best way to describe it,” She said. “It was a difficult intubation, and you handled it as well as you could have. But it’ll get easier.” Then, in a gesture that made her suddenly look twenty years younger, she reached into her back pocket, pulled out her phone, and began shuffling through apps. “Have you had any breakfast yet?”

Rey opened her mouth, but her stomach beat her to the punch and growled loudly.

“I will take that as a no,” she said with a chuckle. “I need you to pick up a mobile order for me downstairs. Help yourself to whatever you’d like.” She handed Rey the phone.

Though flustered, Rey took it graciously and searched for something that she could eat quickly, that wasn’t too expensive or sweet. She settled on a pain au chocolat, then handed it back to her attending. “Thank you so much,” She said meekly. “Do you…need me to do anything else?’

Holdo waved a hand dismissively. “This is going to take a few hours. Just take some time to breathe, grab some food, put my stuff in the fridge, and then when you’re ready come back here and we’ll go over some things together.”

Rey tried not to think too much about the last sentence while she was picking up their orders, and instead shifted her focus towards the iced coffee and bagel sandwich in her hands. Her default assumption was still that Holdo was mad at her, so the last thing that she wanted was to drop her food. 

When she returned to the OR, Holdo looked like she was playing a game on her phone, but she put it away just as quickly to check something on the ventilator. Rey awkwardly sat down next to her, to which she responded with a clap of her hands. “Okay,” She said. “Let’s begin.”

They went through together, meticulously, the entire timeline of the morning’s events, as though Holdo was her track coach showing her a playback vide of the big race. It was honestly a shock to her system to spend more than five seconds hearing about her performance. Phasma had always criticized her and Ben sharply and frantically, and Sloane had seemed apathetic at best. She was always moving, always looking for something better to do than teach the resident. But here, Rey had the time to sit down and actually take in everything that Holdo was explaining to her.

They reviewed the components of the history, the medications, the doses, and she wrote down every crucial piece of information as she heard it. And, incredibly, when they got to discussing her intubation technique, there was no negativity in her voice. She never once framed a statement as “you did this wrong/do it like me,” but demonstrated the correct technique and allowed Rey to make the connections all on her own.

When they finished the review and Holdo asked “What do you think?” Rey genuinely had to stop herself from bursting into tears and hugging her. So, she smiled and nodded, comforted by the assurance that she hadn’t been written off.

Over the next couple of hours, they spent their time conversing about the ventilator, the various functions and parameters and the importance of each component. With every new nugget of information, she felt like she was beginning to untangle the overwhelming spider’s web of beeps, numbers, and squiggles. And that realization only made her feel more at ease. She took note after note, hoping to hold on to whatever she could, but putting a star next to bits that she would have to review on her own.

Holdo was clearly a master at her craft, balancing her time between teaching and caring for her unconscious patient as the surgery dragged on. Rey realized, in a strange way, that she was like a lifeguard, always watching the pool for signs of trouble, willing and ready to jump in on a moment’s notice, but still able to answer questions and keep herself stimulated through the long periods of excruciating boredom.

During quiet moments, Rey stared at the ventilator screens intently, or tried doodling in her notebook. She was still too terrified to pull out her phone, but Holdo seemed glued to it like a teenager. When the surgeon announced that they would be finishing up in about twenty minutes, she watched her take out her phone and send someone a text.

After she sent it, Holdo leaned over and said in a low voice. “I hope you don’t mind, but since the second patient today is much younger, so one of my junior residents is going to be taking the lead. They need the experience with pediatric patients.”

Rey hesitated, her brain immediately trying to retrieve the information from the child’s chart, but came up empty. Holdo wasn’t saying that out of any anger or desire for punishment, right? Medical students weren’t typically expected to handle young patients in surgical settings anyway. This wasn’t about the intubation. It was just work.

So, she nodded, even though such a thing was not actually a choice for her to make.

“Thank you for understanding,” She said. Something flashed in Rey’s mind’s eye, or perhaps Dr. Amilyn Holdo had just given her an honest-to-god wink.

The first surgery ended smoothly at half past ten, they extubated and transferred together, and the child came in at about eleven. She was a slight girl with light brown skin and curly black hair tucked into the mandatory hospital hair net. She wore the thin blue mandatory hospital gown over a pair of white hospital pyjama pants (that Rey knew were unbearably itchy). There were no stuffed animals on her bed, and no parental companions. When she arrived, she was sitting up and grinning while the nurse pushing the bed along jovially declared to the operating room that she was ready to go! She was such a big girl, looking forward to today’s surgery, and behaving excellently. I like this one, she’s always so cooperative, one of the nurses murmured to the other behind her.

Rey helped the rest of the nurses bring the girl to the table to lie her flat and set her up with the jelly donut-shaped pillow and blanket. She was acutely aware that this was not part of her duties, but she rationalized her actions within the same breath. She wasn’t going to be the medical student skulking around in the corner and making things awkward for everyone. Doing so would only heighten her anxiety tenfold. She just needed something to keep herself occupied, and no one was yelling at her yet for trying.

She felt something begin to shift in the air when the velcro came out. The girl made a small sound, like a whimper, then jerked her head up to see what the nurse was doing at her feet.

The nurse nodded immediately and said in a high, clear voice, “It’s okay sweetie, we’re just putting this around your legs to make sure you don’t roll off the bed.”

Rey watched carefully from the side of as the girl hesitated, then nodded and laid back against the jelly donut. The girl closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if she was preparing to count down. And one, two, three, Rey felt something catch in her chest. She sucked in a breath, shut her eyes tight, and took a step forward. 

“We haven’t met yet,” Rey said suddenly, bending her knees to get closer. Dropping her voice low, she continued, “My name is Rey, I’m one of the medical students who’ll be helping you out.”

The girl pressed her lips together into a tight line and nodded towards her. “I’m Allana,” She said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Rey smiled nervously, hoping that the girl would recognize the crinkle of her eyes while the mask covered her mouth. “How are you doing today?” She asked with the light tone that she usually reserved for her barista jobs.

The girl gave a bright grin in return. “I’m good,” She said. In that moment, someone came up to unfold a blanket. Again, her mouth tightened into a straight line, then dropped.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Rey could see the resident in question, a young masked man with light brown skin, wearing a scrub cap covered with various superhero logos.

“Hey Allana,” He said from the other side of the bed. 

She immediately flipped her head in his direction, and Rey looked up to see him lean over the girl, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. “It’s nice to meet you Allana. I’m one of the anesthesiologists who will be taking care of you today. You can call me Yord.” He held out his hand in an overly formal gesture, but the girl reciprocated and shook it without hesitation. “We’re going to get started in a couple of minutes. I know you said earlier that you know the drill, but do you have any other questions for me before we set everything up and put you to sleep?”

The girl paused, drew in a deep breath, as if weighing her options. But after a brief moment, she shook her head.

“Then we’ll get started,” He nodded, then turned to gather his IV equipment, while Rey remained by her side, watching carefully for any changes.

While the team completed their time-out and final checks, the girl was staring at the ceiling. Suddenly, she closed her eyes tightly and began murmuring to herself. 

Rey blinked, swearing she heard something. Discreetly, she stepped forward and touched the side of her bed. “Did you say something?”

The girl opened her eyes and said to no one in particular. “Is it going to hurt?” She looked around, the edge of her tone barely betraying a hint of panic, while the doctors and nurses assured her, their muffled voices overlapping, that everything would be okay. Rey met the young girl’s eyes and furrowed her brow, making sure to swallow the lump in her throat before she spoke quietly. “Hey, you’re safe. It’s not going to hurt.”

The girl still looked uneasy.

Something came over Rey then, and as the others were gathering equipment, and preparing the ventilator, she found it in herself to lean down, so low that she was nearly at eye level.

“I’ve had surgeries like yours before,” She said quietly, discreetly lowering her mask so that she could read her lips. It wasn’t even remotely true, she’d never once interacted with plastics, let alone something like this. They were going to take a bone graft out of her hip and stuff into a hole in her maxilla. But in the moment it was the best Rey felt she could do.

The girl’s eyes widened ever so slightly, and she turned her head a little closer and stared, incredulous. “Really?”

Rey pursed her lips, pulled her mask back up, and nodded. “Many times. I can tell you that you’re going to feel a sting in your hand soon,” She said, glancing briefly at the resident setting down the IV equipment on the other side of the table. “But it’ll be quick.” And without thinking, she reached under the blanket covering her shivering form, and took her cool hand, gently caressing it in time with each of their breaths. “Tell me, do you like to watch movies?”

But then, Yord took her other hand, and Rey watched her shift uncomfortably. So, thinking quickly, she crouched down further, lifted the blanket, and held her hand tight, forcing her to meet her gaze directly.

He said from the other side. “Okay Allana, we’re going in five—”

Her eyes were darting wildly. Chest heaving. Panicking.

Rey flashed her a pleading look. “Hey, focus on me. What was the last movie you watched?”

The girl hesitated for a moment, then bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut, squeezing Rey’s hand with all of her might. “Barbie and the…Diamond—ow—”

The needle went in. And that step was finished. The resident quietly picked up his things and moved to the head of his bed, where Holdo stood quietly with her hands clasped at her hips.

“It’s in,” Rey whispered emphatically. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” She said it in a way that made part of her wonder who the words were actually meant for.

The girl nodded, as if it was just dawning on her what Rey had actually been doing. Then, she swallowed hard. “Is that it? Is anything else going to hurt?”

Rey drew in a sharp breath. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Holdo looming while the resident connected the mask to the ventilator tube.

“They’re going to put a mask on you to give you extra oxygen before the medicine goes in.” She said gently, still holding tight. “You’ll feel dizzy for a few seconds, but you will fall asleep quickly.”

The girls eyes went wide. “Then are they going to hurt me?”

The moment she asked that question, something pierced Rey’s heart. A stray arrow that whistled past and found its weak point, leaving a small but jagged crack in her stone wall. The girl meant the surgeons, that much she could parse. She’d had surgeries before, she absolutely should have known how this was going to go. She was not being rational. But the question made Rey wonder, briefly, if she had ever asked it herself? Had her memories become so blurred over the years that she could not recall her own words, had the after-effects of the anesthetics and chemo created holes in her life like smouldering cigarettes to paper photographs, or had she never said those words because she was always too afraid of how the doctors might respond?

Is it going to hurt?

Are they going to hurt me?

She had experienced that hurt, hadn’t she? How many times had she experienced pain beyond anyone’s wildest nightmares, the kind of agony that made one wish they could tear open their stomach, throw their guts up, stab themselves in the area and hope that they could just bleed out and end it all in a moment. She’d felt that after surgery, after the initial round of painkillers had worn off, they’d left her alone for hours to tough things out, or her wounds had become infected but no one was around to look after her and she didn’t want to be a burden and ask for help too soon.

Suddenly, her gaze fell to the bracelet wrapped around the girl’s wrist, where her name appeared as clear as day. Allana. Allana. Allana. 

“Allana, they’re not going to hurt you. You won’t feel anything, okay?”

Allana was starting to shake, and her eyes were becoming glassier with every passing second.

“You’re safe,” She said. “You’re safe, we’re going to take care of you.” Then she glanced up at Holdo, who loomed still, quiet but clearly growing impatient.

She swallowed and returned her gaze to Allana. “It’s time for the mask, okay?” Once again, she tightened her grip around the child’s hand, and allowed her to lace her fingers within hers, tighter and tighter, a drowning human holding on for dear life.

“Now,” She said, watching the resident set the mask down, but didn’t wait for him to talk. “Take a deep breath.”

She complied, her eyes now closed, chest visibly rising and falling.

“Good,” said Rey. “Do it again.”

Again.

The monitor beeped.

Again.

Beep.

Again.

They got into their rhythm and continued to breathe in unison. Five times they inhaled before the girl started to do it herself. Her grip on Rey’s hand never wavered while she was awake, but then Yord pushed the propofol, causing her to flinch slightly. And within ten seconds of the milky-white drug entering her IV, her grip relaxed, and she went under.

Rey took a step back, knowing that she couldn’t take precedence over the resident for the surgery, and watched quietly as he tried and failed to intubate, Holdo finished the job, and then the three of them prepared themselves for the next steps.

Things were quiet for some time after the first cut was made. Holdo and Rey sat side by side on small desk chairs, while the resident’s stool lay bare. The sounds of the drilling and scraping made it difficult for any of them to have a truly engaging conversation. He spent the first couple of hours of the operation on his feet, clearly a little agitated, and monitoring every little parameter on the ventilator screen for signs of trouble. Holdo watched him like a hawk, but at some point, she leaned over to Rey, her eyes still focused on her resident’s movements. “Good job,” was all she said.

It struck her as she sat there, eyeing the girl’s fluctuating vitals illuminating the black screen, how easily she’d been able to say those words of comfort. And whether Allana had truly believed her or not, she had responded and placed a certain amount of trust in her. Holdo had certainly noticed, or else she wouldn’t have let her do that for as long as she did.

Suddenly, in that moment, a small wave of grief washed over her. Not more than a lull to the rest of the world, but enough to make her chest ache, and the breath feel a little more difficult. Without the others noticing, Rey bit back a small sob and sniffled before it could threaten to overtake her. For a brief moment, she wished desperately to be back in Mum’s arms, in a recovery bed, groggy and famished and cared for. But no. She couldn’t be seen getting emotional like this, not here and not now. And she was sure that no one would take her seriously if she explained why she was feeling this way. That little girl would not care about her. She wasn’t the surgeon, she wasn’t going to be at the follow-up. Plus, every student and doctor knew that those drugs together caused some degree of amnesia in every patient, and she would never remember any part of this procedure.

And yet, somewhere deep in Rey’s heard she knew fervently—even if not rationally—that some small reminder of the procedure would linger with the girl. The feel of skin against hers, or the comforting whispers through the buzzing and haze of the medications. So, whatever unbidden thoughts came to her mind, she found herself able to gather the strength to push them aside. It didn’t matter, it absolutely did not fucking matter what their reality would be. She’d told a girl that she was safe and okay, and she’d meant every word.

***

The clinical equipment was not available for recreational use, so she couldn’t practice her intubation skills the way that she could spend hours absentmindedly suturing pieces of fake skin or banana peels.

Over lunch, she found YouTube videos of proper intubations. One of them, conveniently enough, included explanations of different techniques based on the types of laryngoscopes and tubes used. It wasn’t perfect, but she could still attempt to unsubtly copy the movements while her mouth was still half-full of pasta. Hold, tuck, push forward, weave through. Make it simple, make it fluid. Do or do not, there is no try. She mentally dissected each of her errors and moments of uncertainty, each comment that Holdo gave the resident, and thought about how to minimize the reoccurrence of those problems.

Fine, she wasn’t going to be perfect. The residents and fourth years had told them all, again and again, that seeking true perfection in medicine was like Tantalus’s punishment in the Underworld. The fruit and water were always just out of reach, leaving one parched, empty, craving, and psychotic.

She tried again. And she really did try when she returned. With number three, Holdo had to remind her yet again how to properly hold the mask, then lowered the bed so that she could get a good view. But the tube went in, she could pump oxygen into the woman’s lungs, and it only took two tries to properly tape it into place.

The poor woman would probably wake up with a scratchy throat and break out around her lips from the hospital tape. But it was done, and everyone involved had survived.

***

Every day was a new room, a new supervisor, a new series of cases, a new adventure. Some went better than others. 

One morning, there was a nine year old boy in for a tonsillectomy. He was incredibly unkind, called the nurses some words that no one that age should have in their vocabulary, and tried to run off before one of them brought him back. His parents reinforced their consent for the surgery, and four people held him down while they gave him midazolam to calm him down.

It did next to nothing.

Five people then had to hold him down for a gas induction. And when Rey tried to help, her supervisor snapped at her to move away and give them some room.

He didn’t apologize after, though his nurse told her not to take it personally. She wasn’t even particularly shocked or offended at what he’d done, just at the complexity of the case.

The boy was under for almost an hour, and his heart rate never dropped below 120 beats per minute. The whole time, the nurses and surgeons were chatting with each other about the situation, theorizing about whether he was on the spectrum or had Tourette’s. Someone pointed out that he had no history of either. So they began to debate about which parent was the abusive one, which one had had said the word cunt enough times in the house for him to so easily say it to the nurses.

Rey thought briefly about the first time she’d had a panic attack on the table. She’d mostly cried, but she must’ve said something unkind at some point, sworn in a mix of English and Serbian or something. Had they talked about her like this while she was under? Had they told Mum?

When they finally got the boy to wake up, he tried to punch the doctor in the face. It was a wild, aimless swing, and if he were any more lucid he might’ve broken a nose. The nurses held him down and topped up the midazolam, and continued to clutch his arms until they went slack.

Then the next case began, and it was back to regularly scheduled programming.

***

She was assigned to Holdo again on Friday. The week actually been flying by, and she felt like she was finally starting to get into a rhythm with her technique; history-taking, induction, maintenance, extubation. No one had complimented her outright, but she knew in her heart that she was getting better. And thankfully, she had managed to power through the smells.

She still loathed them with every fibre of her being, but they weren’t triggering her the way that she’d expected them to. Whenever she caught a whiff of the gas, she would close her eyes, remind herself to take a deep breath, and proceed. Sometimes it was her own voice telling her. Sometimes it was Holdo’s. Sometimes it was Ben’s.

They hadn’t been able to study together so far that week, but they still kept in touch over text. He asked if she was doing okay, she assured him that she was pushing through. That morning, he had jokingly sent her a gif of Mr. Krabbs that read “congratulations sailor, you made it to Friday!”. She’d smiled and responded with a heart, and then a cheeky promise to meet him later for “notebook emoji” and “eggplant emoji.”

They were on general surgery with a team that Rey was largely unfamiliar with. The procedure had gone much quicker than anyone had expected, leaving the pair to hover over the patient for an excruciatingly long time while they got the drugs out of their system. The surgeons and nurses were bustling around nearby, writing notes and cleaning up whatever equipment they could.

Rey watched the patient carefully, noting every breath for alterations in rhythm and depth, or for their eyes to flutter open suddenly. The patient’s name was Vernestra, about Holdo’s age and stoic in nature, with an admirable violet buzz cut. She’d been kind to Rey in pre-op though, and the two had even exchanged a brief joke about their mutual dislike of apple sauce.

“I have a question for you.” Holdo said suddenly, but kindly enough not to make her anxious.

“Yes?”

“Do you have any interest in pursuing anesthesia as a specialty?”

Rey paused, uncertain what was the underlying meaning to her question. Most doctors or residents would ask such a thing on day one, according to Jannah. The trick was always to lie and make it seem like it was your favourite thing in the world. That way, they would be kinder to you in evaluations and let you participate in more procedures. But Holdo had never asked her that question. And Rey was confident that they’d really begun to hit it off. They’d exchanged jokes. Holdo had shared that she was on level 4490 of Candy Crush. She’d answered all of her questions without contempt or a snide comment about “googling it.” 

So maybe she was looking for a genuine answer.

Rey glanced between Vernestra and her attending, then reached up and tucked a stray hair under her cotton scrub cap. It was still new and unfamiliar against her head, but it felt much smoother than the disposable one. It moulded to her head more easily, making her look more like the residents and doctors around her. “I’m still pretty set on pediatrics,” She quietly admitted, lingering for a moment too long. “It’s…a long story why,” She almost began to elaborate, but instead stopped herself and dipped her head. “Personal experience, I guess. I like to talk to kids, meet them at their level, help them feel comfortable when they’re vulnerable.” With the last word, her voice softened to nearly a whisper. She blinked, her vision suddenly fogging, then scrunched her eyes shut and raised her head.

Holdo nodded slowly, as if she understood exactly what Rey was talking about. “What have you thought of this week?”

Rey considered her answer carefully, initially wondering how to phrase it to maximize her evaluation score. But then she stopped, and realized that she didn’t really care. She was about to make it through what was supposed to be the worst weekend of her year. That was a win in her book. Not only that, but she had found elements in the specialty that she actually liked. Talking to people, helping calm them down, sitting, watching the changes carefully like the tide, always ready to jump in.

“I—” She was still looking down, but somehow, she found it in herself to smile under her mask. “I didn’t think I’d like anesthesia that much, to be honest. But I’m really glad that I did this.” And she meant it. She was thankful that she’d made it through the week, and that with every day the job was getting easier. 

She looked up and met Holdo’s eyes. “And you’ve been a great teacher.”

A long moment of silence passed between them before Holdo nodded. “You’ve had a long morning,” she said, tilting her head towards the door. “I can take care of Vernestra if you’d like to grab breakfast. You have some time before the next patient arrives.”

Rey hesitated, knowing that this invitation was not a test or trap, but then lowered her gaze to Vernestra’s still form.

“I think I’m okay for now,” She said softly, meeting Holdo’s eyes. “I want to stay with them for a bit.”

After a pause, Holdo nodded with approval, and soon after Vernestra found her way back to consciousness, allowing the two of them to swiftly pull the tube out of her throat. Holdo allowed Rey to take the lead on transferring her from the OR to PACU, and even smiled as she provided the nurses with the relevant information for handover.

“Good job,” said Holdo, when it was over. “I know that you’ve already picked your specialty, but if you ever get sick of the clinics and find yourself back in the OR, I handle a lot of the pediatric surgeries.” And then, she tilted her head forward slightly, dropping the volume of her voice. “You are always welcome to join me.”

Rey just stared at her for a moment, feeling her heart flutter. Dr. Holdo was…offering her a spot. After only working with her for a day and a half, she 

“I—” She stuttered. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

Holdo smiled and sent her on her way. After she ate, she decided to take another precious sip of water before returning to the OR. 

She was standing by the cooler when she suddenly felt a presence behind her. She whirled defensively, to see Ben towering behind her. With a smirk, she looked him up and down, realizing that his mask was under his chin, and he was holding a new pair of scrubs. The ones on his body were stained red and brown in various places.

She blinked and met his eyes. The odour emanating from him was foul to say the least, but after the week she’d had the mix of human blood and shit was honestly a welcome surprise. If she sniffed carefully, she could almost imagine she was reaching through for his delightful pine-scented cologne. “So where’s the body?”

Ben looked down, as if only now seeing the mess that was on him. “Ugh…” He grimaced and tucked his new scrubs under his arm. “Hartmann’s. It was supposed to take a couple of hours but it got…stupid,” He managed. “I have to change quickly before the next one.”

Rey smiled and nodded, feeling her cheeks grow a little warmer. “Yeah, probably a good idea.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Where’d you get that scrub cap?” He pointed to her forehead, a faint crooked smile slowly creeping up to the edge of his lips. “It’s cute.”

Rey immediately flushed and reached up to touch the cap, having forgotten for a moment that it was still on her head. “The nurses were selling them in the lounge yesterday,” She said, reaching up to pull it off. She examined it for a moment, the navy blue fabric emblazoned with iridescent blue and violet butterflies, then tucked it under her chin and began to hastily retie her bun.

Ben was still standing there, his eyes slightly downturned towards her cap. When he straightened and they connected, she felt a sting of electricity pass through her chest, and turned away to put the cap back on.

It wasn’t such a big deal, right? The cap was nice, it had caught her eye, and D’Arcy had told her that the proceeds were going to a local charity. Plus, it was better for the environment to get a cloth cap rather than the itchy disposable ones that always left her hair as a frizzy mess.

“D’you want me to get you a cap?” She asked as she put it back on, tucking a few stray hairs into place. She tried to do so teasingly, but it was probably obvious that she was just deflecting. “They had one with black cats on it.” She had to admit, it was getting harder to play these games with him, like they were just study buddies, while images of her desire were flashing just below her conscious mind. What she wouldn’t give for him to put her up against the wall right now.

Ben hesitated, but shook his head. “You and I both know that I won’t be here for too long. I’ll stick to the disposable ones.”

Rey crossed her arms and tilted her head cheekily. “You’re sure? It might be a nice souvenir. I saw another one that just says Ortho-Bro in big red letters on the front.” She motioned to her forehead to illustrate her point.

Ben snorted and reached for a cup at the water cooler. Her gaze lingered on the vein in his arm as he pushed the button. “And what exactly would I need to use that for?”

She swallowed back a desperate strangled sound, then chuckled and nudged him with her shoulder. “You know, for when you have to infiltrate the dark side to get intel for the resistance,” She said mockingly, referencing one of the movies they’d watched last weekend.

He turned to her and raised an eyebrow. “You are so very funny,” He said, making his voice as dry as possible. Then, he paused, and they met each other’s gazes. No jokes, no questions, only tenderness. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, as if he were afraid of eavesdroppers. “How are you doing?”

She knew what he was asking. She had spent so much of the week in her own head, working and studying for the next day. She had shared nothing meaningful with her supervisors, and nothing with…any of her friends. Nothing was even wrong. But his question seemed to chip away at a piece of her wall. And in a heartbeat, she felt a part of it shatter.

Rey exhaled slowly and furrowed her brow. I feel strange. She wanted to say. But there was something more to it, something itching the back of her mind that she couldn’t quite articulate. Maybe she wasn’t feeling the same loathing or antipathy as she used to. There was some ambivalence as well.

Ben mimicked her facial expression, then glanced down at his scrubs. “Do you have another case?”

She nodded. “Hysterectomy. Shouldn’t take too long.”

“Then I’ll meet you in the OR lounge when we’re done, okay?”

Rey drew in a breath and straightened herself. The OR lounge was a quiet room, a good place for intimate conversations, but it was often occupied by at least one or two doctors and nurses waiting for the next operation to start. It wasn’t a place to study or have sex. Just a place to talk. 

After some consideration, she moved away from the wall. 

He followed through, as he was already sitting at a brown leather couch in the far corner of the room when she walked in, his attention almost entirely on his phone. Wordlessly, she took a seat next to him, so that they were both positioned facing the dark line of computers. To their left, the large window was bathed in the rosy glow of the dusk.

After a passing glance at the rest of the room, where a senior resident was snacking on something by the fridge, Rey sat down next to him.

Ben sent a quick text and put his phone in his pocket, then crossed his hands over his lap like what she’d imagined a haughty therapist would do.

“So, you survived anesthesiology. How did it go? The good, the bad, the ugly?”

Rey locked eyes with Ben. She almost didn’t believe that it was over. All of that buildup and apprehension, and the week was just…done. She had no obligation to ever intubate another human being again in her life.

“I…honestly don’t know,” She murmured uncertainly.

He raised an eyebrow. And she began to share more. She told him about her time with Holdo, her struggles with the various anesthetic techniques and improvements. Though he seemed neutral, if disinterested in the material itself, he seemed receptive to her stories. She explained her continuous screwups with intubations and nasal mask airways. She excitedly described the bradycardia case on Tuesday when she’d drawn up the epinephrine and learned to use the pacer function on the crash cart. She quietly expressed her nervousness and regret after certain patient interactions, how they’d brought forth uncomfortable memories of her own surgeries or made her realize just how much her mind had blocked off.

She didn’t know why she was feeling this way. She wished that she could feel indifferent towards the specialty, the way that she did with orthopedics or radiology. But this wasn’t indifference. It wasn’t hatred either. And it didn’t start to dawn on her until she glanced over and realized that the corner of his mouth was upturned ever so slightly.

Rey laughed nervously. “What is it?”

Ben chuckled lightly and picked up his phone. “I’m glad that you had such a good time,” He said. “It’s nice to see you lit about something.”

Rey’s heart quickened. She could feel heat beginning to rise up into her chest. “What do you mean by that?”

He texted something, then put his phone away. “I mean, if I didn’t know any better—” He nudged her arm conspiratorially. “—I’d think that you like anesthesiology.”

“I—”

His smile widened.

Her cheeks were growing warm. “I—I mean,” She raised her shoulders and tried to roll her eyes away from him. “It was good, I mean I don’t want to do it long-term but maybe I’d judged it too harshly.”

“So then you won’t mind never doing it again?”

Rey paused. Did she really feel that way? She thought back to Holdo’s offer. She liked talking to patients in the room, putting them at ease, showing her face and personality, helping them understand that she wasn’t like the chittering phantoms that plagued her hazy memories. She could see herself doing that again, at least with kids.

“I don’t know, I don’t—” She stammered, pulling off her cap and reaching up to retie her bun again. “I mean it’s interesting. And a better pace than surgery, that’s for sure.” And fuck, it had felt good to be able to say that she’d accomplished something, whether it be a successful intubation or IV, or just managing not to have a panic attack when her supervisor took a coffee break and left her with the pager.

“So you do like it.”

“I don’t like it—”

“Rey,” He said firmly.

She bit her lip.

“I can hear it in your voice, clear as day. You don’t have to pursue anything, but you have to admit…you like anesthesiology.”

Rey stopped dead in her tracks, then lowered her gaze to her feet. With a sigh, she pursed her lips, then echoed, “Yeah,” She said. Her heart skipped a beat. “I think I do.”

And for awhile, she could only stare into space, her heart pounding through her ears as her own words sank in. She closed her eyes and let her head flop back as her body sank into the cushion.

She liked anesthesiology. She had enjoyed that godforsaken specialty, the one that she’d sworn up and down was too scary, too nerve-wracking, too infuriating, and too difficult to engage with as anything other than a patient who would die without the operation. There were parts of the job that spoke to her; the synchronicity of the OR jobs, the quiet of that sterile room, the emphasis on physical techniques and proactive problem-solving strategies, and the nature of the patient dynamics. The anesthesia rotation was the first time in the past six weeks when she’d felt like she had actually helped a patient emotionally at their most vulnerable moment.

There was an appeal to it. She could admit that much to herself.

But…what did that say about her?

Ping!

The sound of Ben’s phone made her jolt. When she straightened herself up on the couch, she could see him in the middle of texting someone, his expression seemingly irritated. But after a minute he sent it and carefully set his phone face-down at his side.

“Who’re you texting?” Rey inquired, folding her hands over her lap. Probably Phasma giving him shit for something he’d done that day.

Ben blinked, as if he hadn’t heard her properly at first. “Oh—it’s Luke, actually.”

Rey blinked. He hadn’t brought up Luke since he mentioned the New York conference. She’d been so preoccupied with school that she was almost starting to forget her whole mission to see him. “What’d he say?”

“I was going to tell you earlier. He…apologized for the ghosting, in his own little way…” He muttered under his breath. “But he’s back in town now and can meet us in the next couple of weeks. Just pick a day that works for you.”

She narrowed her eyes, hoping she hadn’t just heard that. “You said ‘us.’ Are you coming with me?”

He tilted his head. “Do you…not want me there?”

“You said he can meet us. It sounds like the decision’s already been made.”

Ben hesitated, as if just realizing his own slip-up.

In a flash, she could feel her turmoil morph into frustration.“Did you tell him that you’d be coming with me?”

“Rey—” He bit his lip and dipped his head in shame. Or perhaps guilt that he’d been caught in another lie of omission. But just as quickly, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “There was a miscommunication here. He assumed that we would be coming together.”

“Why would he assume that?”

“Because—” There was a moment of hesitation that lasted far too long. He wasn’t totally meeting her gaze. “He doesn’t like to talk to new students on a whim. I told him that we’re friends, and he took that to mean that we would be going together.”

Rey narrowed her eyes suspiciously. It was plausible, if stupid, but she had no reason to challenge him on that. Why would he have any reason to lie? After some consideration, she took a deep breath and rubbed her temples. “I—It’s not a problem,” She said. “I mean, you’re putting this together, but—” She scrunched her eyes shut. “I’d just assumed that I would be seeing him on my own.” That was what was bothering her here. He’d done it again, just like with Han’s auto shop. Assuming that he knew what was best without asking for her input. Even if it had been done with the best intentions, it irked her all the same.

“I’m sorry. Really, I am.” He said, though she was unsure if he truly meant it. He seemed more embarrassed than anything. “I don’t have to come, trust me when I say it’d be better for both of us if I’m not there.”

“It’s fine,” She said sharply, then rubbed her face again. “You told him you were coming with me, so go. He’s your family, and clearly he was never interested in meeting me alone,” She thought back to the dozens of unread cold emails that were probably still collecting digital dust in his inbox. “We can figure out a day once we have our pediatrics schedules.” She had so many other little meetings to complete too, including the check-in with Maz on Sunday.

“Okay,” He murmured, turning away.

“Fine,” said Rey. Then, she sucked in a deep breath, and considered what she could say to change the subject. And after a few seconds of fidgeting on the couch, she found her mind returning to the OR. That little sterile room that she was about to leave, possibly for a very very long time. “Can I ask you something…”

“Sure,” He said quietly.

“How did you come around to psychiatry?”

He whirled, then gave her an incredulous look. “Does it matter?”

She nodded, though in the back of her mind she found herself irritated that he was trying to deflect again, even if she was technically doing the same.

Ben tilted his head, as if he were reading her mind. “It’s not relevant to your thing with anesthesia at all. You understand that, right?”

She rolled her eyes, then met his gaze. Was it really that dramatic, or was he being obtuse? “Ben, you did an immunology degree and then switched to a psychology PhD. You went from working with one of the foremost pediatric oncologists in the country, to pursuing psychiatry. What happened that made you switch?”

He paused, then looked away.

Rey lowered her voice. “Was it your uncle?”

There was a long silence after she asked the question. Ben seemed to freeze for a minute, his gaze lingering on hers, brows furrowed in uncertainty, or contemplation. He then glanced away, shifted on his, and slowly reached forward to put down his phone. When he sat back and turned towards her, something in his gaze seemed distant, clouded, like he was lost in a sea of dense fog.

“I was always going to become a doctor,” He began. “I built my life around it, and my parents and uncle encouraged me every step of the way. I was top of the class in my IB program, I got a scholarship to McGill, and I busted my ass to get to the top. I started shadowing my uncle the minute I legally could, and I started publishing when I was nineteen. But when the time came, I didn’t get into a single medical school.”

Rey blinked. That didn’t seem right. “What about UofT?” She asked.

Ben narrowed his eyes. “What are you—” He groaned and slapped himself on his forehead. “Fuck me, is that stupid rumour still going around? No, I never got into UofT. I went to a conference there once and some idiots in our class decided that meant something.”

Rey flushed nervously. “So what happened?”

He sighed loudly and dramatically, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know, I had the GPA, I had a great MCAT score, research experience, and nothing. I didn’t even get a single interview. I only applied to the Stanford Master’s program on a bet with Poe. He thought I should continue my research and get out of Ontario. And sure enough, they ended up being the only ones to give me the time of day. My parents were…well, they tried to be supportive, even if they didn’t want me to go to California.” He sighed and shook his head, as if clearing out an unpleasant memory. “Luke started treating me differently as soon as it became clear that I wasn’t the perfect medical student he’d raised me to be. We got into a pretty nasty fight, and he completely gave up on me as a protege.” He closed his eyes. “So I left.”

“Oh…” Was all that she could say at first. It was a lot of information, admittedly overwhelming, and it served as a stark reminder of the very real chasm separating the sorts of lives they’d led. She’d always felt so alone, struggling her whole life towards the goal of medicine with little emotional or financial help from the outside world. Yes, Mum had encouraged it, occasionally echoing some abstract crap about it being “destiny,” or “God’s plan,” but she hadn’t heard those words in years. As far as she was concerned, Rey was the only person who’d helped Rey get to this point.

Ben had been raised in the world, groomed to be his uncle’s successor, and still he had chosen to walk away for years. Part of her envied him for having that kind of emotional and financial support and stability, however flawed the people might have been in his eyes. But she wouldn’t admit that out loud. Instead, she held out her hand, letting it rest over his lap. A small peace offering.

Ben did not seem surprised to see her hand. He laced his fingers with hers, then let out a long exhale. “Stanford was a bitch and a half,” He admitted with a small chuckle. “I was in a really bad place the whole time I was there. Most of my twenties, to be honest, I spent fighting the instinct to just give up on medical school…on my whole future, really. But,” He continued, before drawing in a breath and lowering his gaze.

His hand held onto her a little more tightly. Rey looked up, feeling her heart flutter nervously. She understood the subtext behind his words, and the subtleties in his micro-expressions and unconscious gestures. Two memories rose to the surface; the anti-depressants in his apartment, and him telling her in the bar that when you have experience in a field, it only makes sense that you’d want to put it to use.

“Whenever I thought about giving up, I thought back to the kids in oncology. There was one who—” He met her eyes and smiled, though his eyes looked pained, and his voice betrayed a hint of a shudder. For a moment, she imagined—or remembered—a younger version of Ben Solo. Pale and lanky, with sweeping hair over dark, tired eyes and aquiline features, shoulders hunched like protective armour against a world that was always asking too much of him. “—They didn’t know it, but they helped me realize that I could still make something of my life. That I could forge my own path. So, I decided to go all the way, get a PhD in child psychology and a fresh start. The thesis was the first time in my life that I could truly say I made something that was mine. And it made me want to continue through along that path. I want to be able to one day say that I can help people dealing with that shit…just like that kid helped me.”

“That’s…really nice.” She said, shifting her weight into him. Without a word, she placed her chin on his shoulder, and wrapped her free arm around his back.

Ben stared down at their joint hands. “Yeah…” He whispered to himself. “I still have a lot of things in my life that I need to fix, but…at least right now, I’m happy that I’m here. And that kid doesn’t know it, but they’re the reason why.”

There was an unspoken understanding in that moment—an old unwritten code—that stopped Rey from asking more about the child. Cancer kids don’t ask what happened to other cancer kids. Especially one who is being referred to in the past tense. Without another word, Rey closed her eyes and rested her head near his heart, listening to every beat like it was her own. Finally, she tilted her head and murmured: “I’d love to read your thesis one day.”

He chuckled and turned towards her, wrapping her in a warm, long hug. “Thanks, sweetheart.” A sigh, a shudder, and then back to bemusement. “I’ll make you a copy.” He kissed her gently on the forehead.

Rey shivered, suddenly remembering his butterfly, and lowered her head into his chest, listening carefully for each heartbeat. 

“And...I’m really glad…” She whispered, feeling her throat begin to tighten instinctively, grieving for a stranger, and desperately wishing that she could take back the last three years of her bitterness and anger. She choked back a small sob and hugged him, clutching onto the edge of his shirt sleeve like she was trying not to fall. “I’m really glad that you’re here.” 

Rey’s fantabulous list of medical school terms

LeFort 3 Surgery: A subtype of jaw surgery that corresponds to a ‘LeFort 3” facial fracture, which encompasses the region from the maxilla (upper jaw) to the orbital region (between the eyes).

Note: this portion of the surgery thus only corresponds to said areas. When the lower jaw is operated on as in the above case, that component of the surgery is called a “bilateral sagittal split osteotomy.”

Alveolar bone graft: A surgery to repair a hole in the gum ridge and stabilize the bone arch, providing better support for the base of the nose and new bone for the roots of the teeth to grow into. It is typically performed on children between 8-10 years old with a previous history of a cleft lip. The bone graft is typically taken from the iliac crest or close to it (hip bone).

Chapter Text

“My own—fuck you!“ She snapped, jamming a finger into his chest so forcefully that Ben took a half-step back. “You have no right to say what’s good for me, you jackass!”

He stood there for a moment, glanced down at her finger, then into her eyes. A million thoughts were racing through his head, all stained with vitriol and despair over a person who she barely knew. “Rey.” He began, lowering his voice in a feeble attempt to stave off a torrent of flashbacks. His first thought as he said her name was, oh no. She was too serious about her goal. 

So, some protective instinct—or more likely a lingering bitterness—suddenly took over. She needed a wakeup call. “I think you’re smart, so listen to what I’m trying to tell you. You’re still young, you can still change your mind and pick some other specialty. Please trust me, you do not want to put all of your hopes and dreams on the approval of one doctor. It’ll just lead to disappointment.” He couldn’t stop himself from sounding frantic and desperate. She must’ve thought he was pathetic, but it was the kindest way that he could think of to say what he’d wished he could tell all of those bright-eyed students who walked into that office and came out dejected. Don’t meet your heroes, it will only end in heartbreak.

For a moment, she seemed taken aback. Her eyes widened ever so slightly, she straightened her spine. Maybe she’d processed at least some of what he’d said?

But then he saw her eyes go glassy, and instantly felt his heart drop.

Within a breath, she pushed past him and ran back inside. He began to reach towards the crowd and call her name, meaning to ask her to wait so that he could apologize properly. But the words died on his tongue as she disappeared into the sea of heads.

One by one, people turned their gazes towards him. Watching. Staring. A shiver ran down his back at the sight of their eyes and the glow of the makeshift strobe lights. It took him half a second to understand why they were doing that. They’d all heard her raise her voice. He hadn’t meant to upset her like that, but it was a tough truth that she needed to hear. He was just buzzed and grumpy and telling her what he’d wished someone had told him years ago. Luke was clearly her hero, so she must’ve known him from research circles or the hospital. Maybe a sibling of hers had been under his care? Or…

The image of her sudden white-hot fury immediately thrust itself to the forefront of his mind. Oh. The sudden realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to find her and apologize.

Of course she was dead-set on working with Dr. Skywalker. She had been one of his patients.

His heart skipped a beat.

Could she…?

No. Of course not.  That girl had been so much smaller, she wasn’t even doing that well when she met him. She was bald, but maybe she’d been blonde before that? He could’ve sworn he’d seen her with hair at one point. And her eyes, no, Rey’s green eyes were olive-dark in the shadows of the night sky, they were not the bright jade-green eyes of that dying girl.

Teo-dora. 

Her voice correcting him his pronunciation came like a long-forgotten whisper. Teodora. That had been her name. Part of him was sure that she was dead. Luke didn’t have much hope in her case, and he’d once heard her mother sobbing from the other side of his office door. But despite the haziness coming over him from the rum, he knew in his heart that this girl, Rey, looked uncomfortably familiar. That must’ve been what he’d been feeling in class too.

Immediately, his stomach twisted at the recognition of his own callousness. He’d made her cry. She was a cancer survivor and he had just made her cry. She didn’t deserve that from him. It felt like he was dishonouring Teodora’s memory. And now all of these people were now staring straight at him, wide-eyed and suspicious, with no context for what had just happened between them. To an untrained eye it probably looked like he’d been sexually harassing her. She might as well have just slapped him across the face.

Maybe she should’ve done exactly that. It was probably what he deserved.

Somehow, he took a step, then another off the balcony and into the living room. The edges of his vision were beginning to blur from the buzz—fuck, this was the worst possible time for all of the alcohol to hit—the blaring music was making his ears ring even louder, and he glanced around the dimly lit space desperately searching for her face. He couldn’t see her, but found her friend, the short Asian girl who’d gone off with Hux, by the bathroom door where the room narrowed into the hallway. And just as he was about to stumble his way towards her, he suddenly found his path blocked by someone new.

Jessika Pava from PBL was standing right in front of him, her hand out to stop him in his tracks, and her shoulders squared.

“What are you doing?”

“I—” He began, blinking away the ringing for half an hour moment. His eyes darted around, taking in every hint of contempt etched on her face. Her downturned brows, her lips curved into a frown, her lifted chin. She hated him, of course she did. She’d seen their fight. His heart was pounding, he swallowed back a stone. “I just—” The room suddenly felt a little bit smaller. He needed to stop this, he needed to get himself under control. “I just want to apologize to Rey.” The words came out in a single breath.

Jessika seemed to falter at his comment, if only briefly, then lowered her hand and said firmly, so that he could hear her over the music—“Just give her some space, okay? She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

The words, true or not, pierced his heart like a dagger. Even years later, he would sometimes think back to that night and wonder why he didn’t challenge her. Why he didn’t fight harder to find Rey and explain himself. Some part of his response was likely the alcohol, dulling his senses and slowing his reactions. But he wondered if he had also picked up on Jessika’s attitude as a sign of her affection for Rey. That protectiveness that would remain ever-present in the days to come.

So, he left that night alone and in shame, with Rey Johnson plaguing his every dream and waking moment. He soon crossed a line that he swore he would never dare touch; calling Luke to ask about a former patient. After several minutes of yelling and a furious disconnection, he finally got a text a few days later: She had a recurrence a year later, then discharged. I stopped following her case after that.

It wasn’t a confirmation, only a thread for him to hold onto. But after that clinical session when she’d theorized on his relationship with Luke with such venom…he couldn’t bring himself to speak to her at all. Ben was briefly convinced that she couldn’t be Teodora, because Rey was too much of an asshole. She was irascible on a normal day, and every time they had a dispute in class he found himself absolutely incapable of controlling his own frustration.

She couldn’t be Teodora because Rey didn’t remember him. Was that day so unmemorable for her that he didn’t even have a place in her memory?

He got very good at disliking Rey Johnson. He couldn’t concentrate on his work when they were placed in the same room together. Her eyes were always darting his way, burning bright with suspicion. She always needed to prove herself in class, always needed to have the last word. She clearly saw herself as an underdog; a nobody cancer survivor who wanted to come to medical school and give back to the community.

He watched her in class for months, studying the crease of her brow, the shifting shades of her irises in the sunlight, wondering if his memory had been playing tricks on him and they were the same. And with each passing day, it became clearer that this person who so often made him question his decision to return to medicine, was the same one from all those years ago.

And she didn’t remember him at all.

***

“You’re sure you want to go out tonight?” Rey asked, eyeing Rose curiously as she took a sip of her coffee. They were sitting in the corner of a Starbucks near the hospital, where they could speak privately without being bothered by the various undergrad and McMaster students coming in and out for their afternoon pick-me-ups.

Rose seemed offended at the question. “Of course,” She said. “I’m the one who arranged the whole thing. Why wouldn’t I go?”

“Okay, you lightly suggested it in the class group chat a few weeks ago,” Rey pointed out. “I don’t think that’s the same thing as arranging it.”

Rose shrugged and lowered her gaze. She was playing with the label on the paper cup. “The shelf was brutal and I need to unwind.”

The surgery exam had been pretty hard too, but at least she and Ben had both felt like they’d prepared adequately for it. Conversely, she’d heard that at least a few people had left the pediatrics exam crying.

Rey pursed her lips incredulously. “And what about Finn?”

She took a breath, then frowned and gave Rey a frustrated, but clearly pained look. “He can do whatever he wants. I don’t really care.”

It was a bold-faced lie, and they both knew it, but Rey didn’t want to say anything. Finn was still being evasive with both of them, and while she would’ve imagined that it was partly exacerbated by the stress of the shelf exams, it didn’t justify him dragging his feet. She still remembered Ben’s exchange with him and the revelation that he did—yes, obviously—indeed like Rose, but vague secondhand statements meant nothing without action. She would’ve yelled at him five times over already to just admit his feelings if Rose wouldn’t get mad at her for it.

So she offered a comforting smile. “D’you want to sing a duet?”

Rose brightened immediately. “Well duh, but we have to pick a better song this time. I’m not having a repeat of the Bonnie Tyler mishap.” In a swift motion, she whipped out her phone and started running through the playlist options. “We can do this—” She pointed to a song from Rent.

Rey shook her head. “I don’t remember the lyrics.” She barely remembered half the musicals that Rose had convinced her to listen to over the years.

“Okay, well you do know this one—” She scrolled down to Defying Gravity.

Rey shrugged good-naturedly. “You know I can’t hit the high notes.”

Rose considered for a moment, then continued to run through her list of mostly show tunes, with some good crowd pleasers in the mix. They quickly managed to narrow down the list to a couple of lighter non-Broadway options, though Rose declared that she would try You and Me solo if her name was to be drawn.

Rey remembered that song was a duet, but she trusted her friend to solo it in perhaps the funniest way possible. She already had a few go-to songs of her own, but this was the one environment where she enjoyed being spontaneous. She’d sing what she was in the mood for.

Maybe she could even convince Ben to pick up a mic. He only ever mumbled along occasionally to songs and they didn’t tend to play music during sex. Part of her was curious to hear how he sounded.

At that thought, her phone began to vibrate on the table.

Want a ride tonight?

Rey smiled to herself and texted Ben: Gonna go with Rose, but I’ll see you there! <3

When she looked up, she realized Rose was peering at her phone from the other side of the table.

She narrowed her eyes teasingly. “So what’s going on with you and Ben these days?”

Rey suddenly felt her cheeks warm. “Not much,” she squeaked. “He’s coming out tonight.”

Rose clapped her hands in delight. “Oh perfect, okay then you have to make sure he picks a good song.”

She was already drafting out a follow-up text as Rose said those words: My place after? 

Suddenly, a shadow appeared over her phone. She raised her gaze to see her friend peering over curiously.

“What’s up?” Rey asked innocently.

Rose raised an eyebrow, and then in a swift motion, plucked Rey’s phone out of her hands.

“Hey—” She protested, reaching out as Rose held it high and began to read through the past few texts. “That’s private—”

“It’s fine, I’m just looking at today’s—” Rose assured her. A moment later she handed it back, and Rey took the opportunity to safely put it in her pocket.

“You’re using heart emojis now?” Rose asked, clearly trying to hold herself back from laughter.

Rey felt her cheeks go hot with embarrassment. “Is there a problem with that?”

She grinned, “Not at all, I happen to think it’s adorable. I just—” She waved a hand. “See, I wish you weren’t always so private about your relationships. I don’t think we talked about you and Jess at all. But this is…really cute. He’s good for you.”

“Okay, but we are just friends.” Rey said quietly.

Rose snorted and picked up her coffee. “Yeah right, you’ve been riding him for weeks now.”

Rey huffed. “You and I both know that’s not the same as dating.”

“Yes, but your cherry-red cheeks tell me otherwise—” She wagged a finger teasingly. “I think you might be crushing on your friend with benefits.” She said using her sing-song voice.

The silence between them was palpable for a moment, until they each took a sip of their coffee.

“Okay,” Rey began slowly. “Even if I did, hypothetically—” She made a silent gesture to indicate the word. “That doesn’t mean anything. I don’t know where he stands.”

Rose regarded her for what felt like a long while, then sighed. “Whatever the case, situationships have a pretty short shelf life. Let me know when he starts sending you heart emojis. Then you should make things official.”

***

Back when Rose Tico and Hux were dating, she would stay over at their apartment at least once a week. The two of them generally kept to themselves in the evenings and tended to follow a predictable routine. He would pay for a nice dinner for the two of them in town, they would stumble in drunk at ten or eleven, and then she would be out by eight in the morning, only rarely staying for breakfast with her boyfriend. On weekdays, she would leave by seven. Ironically, that often caused her and Ben to cross paths in the kitchen, even if briefly. Typically, it was amicable. He would ask how everyone was doing, Rose would politely answer, then they would go about their normal lives.

Ben couldn’t quite remember when it happened, only that it was a Saturday in the spring of their first year, when they’d just had a late season snowfall that was due to melt by noon. The two of them had gone a little too far the previous night. He’d heard banging against his wall and the faint sounds of classic rock until at least one in the morning. The next morning, Ben went out for his morning gym session before returning home at nine to get a drink and have some of his rotisserie chicken. He had just sat down when Hux stumbled out of his room, wearing his usual flannel pyjama pants and a too-small shirt that said Come from Away. Poe was already several hours into his day, sitting on the couch across from Ben, studying for his upcoming shelf.

“How’re you doing?” Poe asked cheekily.

Hux let out an exasperated sigh and began rubbing at his temples. “I need Tylenol,” He murmured. “And Dad just fucking decided wants to have brunch.”

Wordlessly, Ben stood up, grabbed the pill bottle from the cupboard and tossed it to him. Hux immediately popped two without water and left it on the table at his side. The three of them knew to let him do what he needed to do when it came to his father. High expectations, high stress, and no room for tardiness or error. Regardless of whom he kept as company.

“Is Rose gone?” Asked Ben.

“Not yet, but I need to go right away.” said Hux, just before pouring himself a glass of water.

As if on cue, Rose stepped into the kitchen at that moment, yawning loudly and rubbing her eyes. Her black hair was frizzy from the humidity, sticking out at multiple angles, and she was wearing a bright green hoodie with the Chandrila logo covering the chest. It was at least two sizes too large for her and went halfway to her knees, covering any shorts she might’ve been wearing.

“Morning Rose,” said Poe cheerfully, his gaze still trained on his laptop. He had always been quite warm to her, which Ben theorized stemmed from her closeness with that guy Finn. It had probably started out with his little crush, which led to him being overly accommodating to Finn’s friends. Now, it had been months, Poe was wrapped up in his shelf exams, and he and Rose had settled into an amicable dynamic.

She yawned and stretched. “Morning boys,” She said, dipping her head to gather the strands into a messy ponytail.

“Morning,” Ben murmured between bites. He should’ve reheated the chicken, it was getting so cold and bland. But Hux was standing in front of the oven.

“Morning,” She replied as she raised her head, her eyes still half-closed.

Ben’s eyes were still trained on her as she turned towards Hux.

“Something going on?” She asked concernedly, sensing the tension in the air.

Hux’s expression was initially distant and unreadable. “I have to go meet my father. It’s…going to be awhile.” He said plainly, as though he were going out for a milk run. 

Ben grimaced and waited for the fight that was coming, not unlike last time he’d gone out with his father without bringing her.

“Oh,” Rose looked like she was going to say something else, but instead paused and nodded to herself. “Yeah,” She said. “No problem. Just…call me later if you need to talk about it, okay?”

Hux nodded, then stepped around her towards the bedrooms. “I have to go get dressed.”

Rose was left standing, staring at the oven as if in a trance, then blinked and took a deep breath. Ben watched her turn towards Poe, but in the span of their non-conversation he’d put on headphones and wasn’t paying attention to either of them. So then she turned towards the fridge, just over Ben’s shoulder, and went to open the door.

“Is there anything edible in here?” She asked, then said under her breath, “None of the pho left, great.”

“Hux has some yoghurt,” said Ben while ripping the right leg from the body.

He glanced up to see Rose open the container he’d labelled, immediately scrunch her nose with disgust, then toss it. “He needs to get more,” She said. After a moment of rifling, she popped her head back out and checked his bowl. “What are you eating?”

Ben swallowed back a morsel and glared. “I’m not sharing.”

Rose shrugged playfully, closed the fridge, and stepped towards him, her hands behind her back. “I’m not trying to take your food Ben, I just want to see what you’re eating.”

As soon as she saw it, she turned to him with wide eyes, shocked and disgusted. “Is that an entire rotisserie chicken?”

He swallowed another piece of meat. It was too cold, he thought briefly. “Is there a problem with that?”

She seemed horrified. “Have you never heard of a vegetable? Or like…carbs?”

“I ask him that every day,” said Poe loudly without looking up.

Ben rolled his eyes at both of them. “I’m a growing boy, I need the protein.”

Rose crossed her arms. “And what about spices?”

He shrugged. “It has paprika on it. Are you sure you don’t want any?”

Her stomach took that moment to groan so loudly that Poe’s head whipped towards them.

After an awkward pose, he turned to his friend and motioned for him to remove his headphones.

“Do we have any bread left?” Poe asked, somewhat concerned for their roommate’s girlfriend’s imminent starvation.

Ben sighed, then turned and opened the bottom freezer drawer, pulled out a ziplock bag and handed it to Rose.

“What’s this?” She asked.

“Leftover challah,” He said plainly. He straightened, then dug around in the fridge for his stash of hard-boiled eggs. “Here,” He handed her one and pointed to the countertop. “Toaster and butter are over there.”

She seemed dumbfounded, but nodded and prepared her snack. Soon after, they heard a door open and close, followed by Hux walking through the kitchen.

“Good luck babe,” Rose said with a comforting smile.

Hux stopped and nodded, pursing his lips apprehensively. He was fidgeting with the sleeve of his white button-up, the same one that he would use for clinical exams. “Thanks.” And without another word, he stepped out.

Ben carefully observed Rose as she slowly blinked, breathed, and returned to her toast like nothing had happened. The sight of her alone filled him with frustration and disappointment. Hux was a good guy, deep down…somewhere. He was capable of being funny, affectionate, and caring, but he was overly hung up on how he presented himself to the authority figures in his lives, so anything that they would label deviant had to be hidden and compartmentalized. Including his partners. Their relationship was not their business, and even if it was…Hux was not one to take constructive criticism. But he hated watching him dismiss his girlfriend over and over again.

When she sat down at the table, he sighed and said in a low voice: “Do you want to talk about it?”

Rose frowned at him, incredulous. “What?”

Ben pointed towards the front door.

She seemed to genuinely consider his offer for a moment, then shook her head and took a bite of his challah. Her eyes widened slightly with surprise. “This is good,” She said. “Did you make this?”

He nodded, though did not add that it was the result of a manic pre-Sabbath baking episode that only reared its ugly head once a season. “It’s my mother’s recipe,” He said plainly. “I can send it to you if you’re interested.”

“Oh for sure,” She said, taking another bite. “Compliments to you and your mother.”

“So you’re sure you don’t want to talk about what’s going on between the two of you?”

Rose let out an exasperated sigh and switched to work on peeling the eggshell. “What’s there to talk about?” She said irritatedly. “He’s not ready to tell his father about us. I’m not going to keep fighting him on it, so there’s nothing to do but wait.”

Ben didn’t know if Hux would ever be ready to bring another human being to meet his intimidating and bigoted father.

“What would you like for him to do about it?”

“Oh I don’t know,” She said, her voiced raised slightly but gaze trained on the food. “Some big grand romantic gesture that says ‘this is my partner, and if you don’t like it then go fuck yourself!’”

He raised an eyebrow at Rose tearing into a second piece of challah, her brow furrowed like she was angry at it. Her words had sounded somewhat sarcastic, but there was a kernel of truth to them, perhaps born of some universal feminine desire to be wooed. It reminded him of Mom’s old stories about how they’d fallen in love.

He wasn’t going to tell Rose the obvious; that Hux was someone who declared his love in small moments, if at all. A grand gesture was completely out of the question, and certainly not today. But the subject was nevertheless bothering her. Clearly she needed to talk about anything and anybody else. 

Without a second thought, he put down his fork and tilted his head to get Rose’s attention. “How’s Rey doing?” It was a question that he often asked when she came by, and often caused her to respond sarcastically in defence of her friend. But there was a routine to it. At least it would likely elicit a more emotionally neutral response.

She raised an eyebrow. “She’s fine. Still doesn’t like you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He grimaced to himself and dug his fork back into the chicken. “I figured as much,” He said, perhaps a bit too bitterly. “She wasn’t in class yesterday.”

“Yeah, she just caught a cold.” She said with a shrug. “The whole apartment smells like broth right now.”

“Oh,” He was actually surprised to hear that much from Rose. She even seemed quietly annoyed at her friend’s misfortunate. “Is anyone with her?”

She nodded and took a bite of her egg. “Jess has been keeping her company since last night.”

“Ah.”

Rose tilted her head, the corner of her mouth lifting suspiciously. “Does that bother you at all?”

He scoffed lightly and turned his focus to the stubborn piece of white meat still hanging onto the centre of the carcass. “Absolutely not.”

When he lifted his head, Rose had leaned in closer, her head tilted as she peered at him, like there was a secret in his eyes that she was trying to unlock.

His cheeks were starting to feel suspiciously warm. “What is it?”

Rose narrowed her eyes. “Why do you always ask about Rey when I’m here?”

Ben regarded her suspiciously. “I think you’re just deflecting so you don’t have to talk about your own relationship.”

“Hey—“ She lifted her finger. “That may be true, but you still have to answer my question.”

Poe took that moment to walk over towards them and fill up his water bottle in the sink while humming a song that he didn’t know.

Rose turned her head towards Poe for a brief moment, allowing Ben to gather his racing thoughts. Because she pissed him off. Because he was much nosier than he cared to admit and wanted to know how she lived her life when she wasn’t making moony eyes at her girlfriend in class or making Ben feel inadequate with her seemingly endless passion for her studies.

Because he still wanted to know if his suspicions were correct. And he wondered if she had ever shared that part of her life with her friends, or if it was a secret that only he knew.

“She…” He stopped, then bit the bottom of his lip, debating which answer would come off the most neutrally. “She has hated me since school started and I want to know if she has gotten over it.”

“Ah,” was all that Rose said at first. Then, to his surprise, she leaned in, her voice quieting. “I’ve actually been meaning to ask, but what exactly happened between you two?”

Ben blinked. “What did Rey tell you happened?”

She shrugged. “She said that you were a dick to her and told her to drop out.”

He opened his mouth to respond, which she took as confirmation.

“You can’t just say that to someone. You know that, right?”

He paused, then let out a breath. “She brought up a…touchy subject for me, and I overreacted.” He closed his eyes, trying to conjure flashes of what he’d said. Rose already knew that he was related to Luke, but it wasn’t worth discussing just how deep their connection ran. “I never meant for things to come off the way that they did.”

“So what do you want to do about it?”

Explain himself. Maybe. Apologize. Somehow. Only if they could pretend that the past few months hadn’t happened. Hopefully try to exist in a room together without tearing each other’s eyes out.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to like…help you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” She raised her shoulders uncertainly. “You’re a good guy, or at least a decent host—” She held up his last bite of challah for proof. “I could tell her that you want to make up, play mediator or whatever.”

He considered her offer for several moments, then shook his head. “I appreciate it, but no. I need to learn to work with her myself. It’s just becoming a nightmare to be around her in class.” Plus Jess was probably still suspicious of his intentions, and even if Rey would listen to Rose she would find a way to make Ben the villain again.

Rose sighed, as if this was one of many times she’d heard such a story. “I love Rey, she’s my best friend. But she holds grudges like you wouldn’t believe, and doesn’t always know how to work with people.” For a moment, her gaze grew distant, as though lost in an unpleasant memory. “She’s been through a lot in her life, and there’s a lot that even I don’t know.”

He looked down and touched the glass. “Yeah…” He murmured. “Yeah, she mentioned that. At the party.”

Rose tilted her head. “What did she say?”

He considered telling her the truth then and there. Maybe Rose would take the information and deliver it to Rey in a more tactful way. But no—no, he wanted to do that himself.

“She just mentioned she was a patient at Coruscant.”

Rose blinked, then sighed and looked down. “Yeah, I know a bit about that part. She and her mom…” Her voice betrayed the slightest hint of a quiver, but with a quick shake of her head it seemed to fade. “…Lots of nasty health stuff.”

He hadn’t registered the detail about her mother at the time. His brain had interpreted it as a general indication of their position as a family unit. The same way that Luke would often speak to families as a whole during appointments. Everyone in the family is involved in their own way, He used to say. Everyone has to find ways to cope with it.

“Does she…talk about it much?”

Rose shook her head furiously. “Touchy subject,” She echoed. “Guess we all have them.”

Ben nodded in understanding.

“Offer still stands though, if you change your mind,” Rose said. “If you two ever need a mediator.”

He nodded, feeling a small flutter building in his chest. “I appreciate it.”

Chapter Text

Rose stopped by Rey’s place to pre-drink before the event, and after a couple of impromptu screwdrivers with semi-expired orange juice, they decided that they’d had enough and were ready to brave the bar prices.

The bar was already bustling with activity when they arrived, though only about half of the patrons were from their third year group.

Soon after they found themselves a table to stand at with their drinks, Rose received a notification. She looked down and exclaimed “Oh my God!” before whirling around the room. Rey was initially bewildered, wondering if she’d heard from Finn, but then settled as she realized that she seemed genuinely excited.

“What’s going on?” Rey asked.

“Paige and Jannah are coming!”

“Really?” Rey said excitedly. They were both in Hamilton on electives, and Rose had invited them of course, but things had been touch and go all day. It was certainly lucky that they were able to get out of work at this time, and the knowledge that they could still do these things as residents was a small comfort in the back of her mind.

Not long after Rey had finished her first drink did she hear someone calling her and Rose’s names. The girls turned in unison to see Paige waving at them, while Jannah was walking up to her side. In a flash, the pair weaved through the crowd, hand in hand, before arriving at the table to exchange embraces.

“Congrats on finishing your first shelf exam!” Paige said excitedly as she pulled away from Rose.

“Yeah!” Rey said jokingly, raising her glass in a mock toast.

“Only four or five more to go,” Rose murmured in a defeatist tone.

Paige playfully punched her sister’s shoulder. “Come on, you did fine. Besides, soon enough all of this is gonna be a bad memory.”

“Yeah, the real trouble starts with your residency applications next year,” murmured Jannah.

Rey glanced at her, suddenly wanting to ask her more about that subject. Jannah was in anesthesiology, maybe she could…help her figure out how to make her application competitive.

“Don’t be like that,” Paige retorted in a bubbly tone. “Let them enjoy tonight!”

Rose tilted her head towards Jannah, who sighed and carefully wrapped her arm around Paige’s lower back. “She got off work before me, so I’m designated driver and she’s—” She began, turning to meet her girlfriend’s eyes.

Paige held up two fingers and let out a giggle.

Jannah gave Rey and Rose a look that said see what I have to deal with, before pulling Paige in closer and giving her a quick kiss.

After a few minutes of back and forth chatter, Paige and Rose went off together to catch up and have a drink, while Rey and Jannah elected to stay behind and guard their little table.

“Where’s Finn, by the way?” Jannah asked, leaning over towards her. “Don’t the three of you usually come to these things together?”

Rey shrugged uncertainly. “I think he’s coming with some guys later,” She said. “There’s some…” She gestured towards Rose, who was deep in conversation with her sister. “…Stuff going on with those two.”

Jannah narrowed her eyes curiously, then looked to Rose, before looking back to Rey. After a moment of contemplation, she nodded understandingly. “I see,” She said. “Have they talked about it?”

Rey shook her head.

“Ah…” She said simply. Rey noticed that she seemed far more exhausted than previously. Her words were slightly slower, and she was yawning in between nearly every sentence

“Well, then how’s it going?” Jannah asked gently, before letting out another small yawn. “Haven’t heard from you in a little bit, usually you start sending me a novel’s worth of questions by now.”

Rey let out a long sigh and began to trace her finger over the glass. “It’s alright,” She said. “I’m just trying to figure some things out. It’s been…strange and new adjusting to the real world, you know? It’s completely different from the classroom.”

She raised her gaze to Jannah, hoping that she would get it and offer some words of wisdom. To her surprise, her mentor just chuckled and crossed her arms.

Rey felt her cheeks grow warm. “What’s so funny?”

Jannah slowly leaned forward, resting her elbows and forearms on the table, close enough that she could speak quietly. “You—” She stopped, narrowed her gaze, then tilted her head and smiled knowingly. “I know that look. You found something you liked, didn’t you? Not quite what you expected?” She lowered her eyes mischievously. “You want to join our team?”

Rey opened her mouth to protest, but closed it just as quickly. Jannah was reading her like a book, just like Ben had.

“I don’t know yet,” She squeaked, scrunching her eyes. “But…can I call you one of these days? I don’t want to start talking about things—” She gestured at the crowd. “Here.”

“Yeah, of course,” She said without hesitation. “Text me when you’re free and we can chat.”

For the moment, that was that. The sisters soon returned to the table, carrying with them three vodka shots and a mocktail for Jannah. They talked for some time, swearing that they would find topics outside of their careers, whether that be the funniest memes they’d seen that day or who they would fuck, marry, and kill among the attending. Rey had to stop occasionally to peek down and check her phone, hoping that the new vibrations would turn out to be text updates.

Eventually, as more classmates started flowing in and the bar began to grow increasingly overwhelming, Rey found herself in need of another drink. She was perhaps two—three—in by that point, and the first one had started to fade enough to make her feel nervous. And as much as she loved the girls, she couldn’t help but look up every other minute, hoping to see Ben walk through the door.

It was nearly nine when she decided that she wasn’t going to wait any longer. She felt far too sober, and there was something gnawing at the edge of her stomach. “D’you guys want another drink?” She offered the table.

The girls shook their heads in unison.

“Want me to come with you?” Rose asked, referring to the growing crowd of burly men at the bar.

Rey glanced that way and sighed uncertainly, before shaking her head. “I’ll be fine, no need to wait up for me.”

She stepped towards the bar, positioning herself to get in line behind the cluster of men. Just as she began to move forward to try to brave the mob, she heard something that made her stop dead in her tracks.

“Teodora?”

Rey whirled and opened her mouth to say something or run for the hills, but found herself stunned. Standing a few feet away, with his scruffy dirty blonde hair and deep brown eyes, was a boy that she never thought she would ever see again.

“Stefan?”

He had clearly been talking to another girl, but as soon as he saw Rey he raised his hand to wave, then immediately pushed past and strode towards her, his gait wobbling slightly along with the half-empty pint in his hand. Rey briefly peered over his shoulder to see her bewildered expression, wishing desperately that she could mouth I’m so sorry.

She turned her head to meet his eye, only a few inches above hers. “How—how have you been?”

A small part of her was genuinely shocked that he recognized her. Last time they’d seen each other, she was a petite, emaciated girl with a chemo-curl afro and a quiet, hoarse voice and zero patience for human interaction. Sitting alone, in the back of the church, waiting for the opportunity to silently slip out and avoid any attention from the older ladies trying to give their sympathy or offer their sons as prospective boyfriends.

“I’m good, I’m good. It’s so nice to see you.” Stefan grinned and opened his arms expectantly.

Rey glanced down, then awkwardly leaned in for a hug.

“So…” She began, stepping away to rub at the goosebumps on her arms. “Are you on a date or something?”

Stefan raised an eyebrow, then glanced back at the girl still standing a few feet away, clearly staring at her drink to avoid interrupting whatever was going on between them. Rey tilted her head and studied him, as he seemed to remember only in that moment exactly what he’d been doing.

“Yeah, a date. We’re just hanging out.”

Rey crossed her arms and leaned against the column next to her. She felt bad for this girl. He was as clueless as she remembered. “Are you guys staying or leaving?”

He shrugged. “Leaving, probably. I can’t stand the sound of karaoke nights.”

“Well that’s a shame,” She said evenly, crossing her arms. “I was really hoping to catch up. How’s your mum been, by the way?”

Her words were clearly meant to be sarcastic. His mother had always been an obnoxious nosy person who tried to set them up just at the end of high school.

“Same old, same old,” he said with a smirk. Then, he began to stride towards the column, where he leaned against the other side before stopping to take a drink. “How about you, are you here with anyone?”

She gestured broadly behind her, where most of her classmates were already standing around drinking. To her surprise, the girls had already disappeared from the table, and she couldn’t see where they had run off to. “I’m here with my classmates for karaoke night.”

Stefan opened his mouth, but not a sound came out.

“Yeah, we just finished our surgery exam today.”

He blinked. “Oh—that sounds great.” Immediately, he slunk back and began to scratch at some unseen wound on the back of his neck. “I, are you—uhh—with anyone?”

Rey straightened, meaning to give a witty retort, when she felt an unmistakeable presence behind her that made her stomach flutter. She turned just as Ben’s hand came down on her shoulder, firm but clearly protective.

“Hey Ben,” She said with a warm, grateful smile.

“Hey sweetheart,” He met her eyes, briefly raised the corner of his lips, then glanced back at Stefan, who had taken another step back. “This guy bothering you?”

Sweetheart. Again, that word sounded so strangely sweet coming from his lips. Good, strange, she decided.

“This is Stefan,” said Rey. “We were just catching up. We went to the same church when we were kids.”

“Hey there,” said Stefan, his eyes widening slightly as his brain processed the difference between his Ben’s builds. “How’s it going?”

“Pretty good,” He quipped. “Getting ready for some karaoke with my girl,” He held up his own bottle of beer and sloshed it back and forth. “Any interest in sticking around?” Without skipping a beat, he lowered his hand towards Rey’s waist. She didn’t even wait for him to pull her before she happily shimmied closer to him. This was genuinely too funny for her not to play along. Either Ben had heard the conversation and was just messing with the poor guy, or he was genuinely playing the jealousy card.

Stefan seemed to think it was the latter. “That sounds great, buddy—” He playfully clinked at Ben’s bottle with his pint, then pulled back and jutted a thumb towards the girl he had nearly abandoned. “I’ve gotta get back to—my—”

“Your date.” Rey finished for him.

Stefan nodded, pursed his lips, then turned on his feet.

“Enjoy your night!” She said excitedly, raising her glass high in a mock toast.

As soon as they were confident that Stefan wasn’t coming back to talk to them, Ben turned to Rey. “What was that about?”

Rey sighed and rolled her eyes. “Honestly, nothing. He’s an alright guy, I’m just surprised. Haven’t seen him since I was…eighteen.” She turned towards the silhouette of him and the girl. “Pretty stupid of him to interrupt his date to see me though. I hope it doesn’t ruin things for them.”

Ben followed her gaze to their spot. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Did you actually think he was a creep?”

“Not really,” He admitted with a small shrug. “I thought it’d be fun to mess with him. And even if he was, I’m quite confident you would’ve been able to handle him on your own.”

“I appreciate that,” She mused, taking a sip of her drink. “Why’d you call me your girl?”

At that mention of his words, Ben looked genuinely flustered and tried to dodge her curious gaze. “That was not on purpose, the word just came out.”

“Well alright,” She said.

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re not mad at me for calling you that?”

Rey shrugged and turned her gaze to the ice in her glass, no longer able to stifle a smile. “It actually sounded kind of cute. But—”

He raised his eyebrow.

She shrugged, then sheepishly took a sip of her drink. “I like ‘sweetheart’ a bit better.” Her cheeks were growing warm.

He chuckled and leaned in so that his lips lingered just above her ear, subtle enough that from a distance one would think he was trying to whisper a secret. “Duly noted then,” He joked, before lightly kissing her cheek in such a way that it made her heart race. “Want another drink?”

She glanced down at her glass, suddenly realizing that it was close to empty. “Sure,” She said. “How much do I owe you—”

But he was already walking away. She followed him as he strode towards the bar and began chatting with the bartender, then sighed and turned back towards the crowd. Her gaze fell on a few classmates in turn, Orla, Melo, and…Jess. For a moment, it seemed that they locked eyes. Then suddenly, she turned away, and Rey could see that she was looking at the bar. At him.

But when Ben returned with her drink, Jess had walked away, and she was too focused on him to care. She was likely confused at the sight of the two of them together like this, but Rey knew that she had no right to judge. They were all different people than they’d been at the start of medical school.

The final hour before the official start of karaoke passed by in a multi-coloured blur. She had another drink—possibly two, she had stopped counting—and danced on the floor with Rose and various girls from their class, twirling and cheering and occasionally whipping her head around without a care. Every time she shook her head she could imagine herself releasing all of the tension she’d been accumulating in preparation for the shelf exam. It was over, and tomorrow she would start to worry about pediatrics.

Rose seemed to be two different people that evening. Sometimes she would be nervously searching the room, clearly hoping to figure out where Finn was and avoid him. But once she’d had a few drinks, she seemed dead-set on shaking every last bit of stress out of her body, or perhaps anything and everything tethering her to the mortal plane. There were brief points where they began dancing together like they had at clubs in undergrad, and the other girls, Paige and Jannah included, were happy to work with their vibe. Some boys lingered nearby, Ben included, and though he seemed perfectly content to lean against a column and watch, Rey and Rose quickly took him by the arms and led him into the circle. He sighed exasperatedly, joking that he was a terrible dancer before he started jerking his arms and hips around like an overly confident old man. Several girls let out loud whoops, leaving him so flustered that he quickly exited the growing circle to stand just behind Rey.

She had half a mind to leave altogether with him as he walked past and brushed his hand against her lower back, so quickly but deliberately that it made her erupt into a full body shiver.

“This is so much fu-un!” Rose giggled, spinning with the music. Then, she closed her eyes and yelled to the ceiling—“FUCK the shelf exams!”

“FUCK the shelf exams!!” The crowd of third years called out in response, before erupting into laughter.

Rey and Rose chuckled to themselves and took each other’s hands to continue dancing, stopping only as the music changed to signal the start of the night’s main event.

A tall lanky person wearing a neon yellow toque had appeared onstage behind a soundboard in the corner, and they were waving intently to get the room’s attention. “Okay everyone, welcome to karaoke night! My name’s Riley, I’ll be your DJ for this evening, and first up is…Finn! Singing A Bar Song--Tipsy!”

A small round of applause erupted as Finn emerged from the crowd on the opposite side of the room and climbed onto the stage. Rey watched him intently, surprised initially at how nervous he seemed. His gaze was low, he paused slightly before taking the microphone, and it seemed to take him a spare moment to figure out a spot to stand. She tilted her head curiously as the guitar began to play, and the first lyrics appeared onscreen. He seemed to open his mouth, then…for a moment he seemed to be petrified. What was he doing?

“Wait—” He said, eyes widening. Instantly, it felt like everyone in their room held their breath.

Suddenly, Finn turned to the DJ and made a motion for them to stop the music, leaving the room in absolute silence.

After another moment, he turned back to the crowd and raised his microphone close to his mouth. “I—” 

Rey immediately felt her pulse quicken. Oh God, what was he doing?

After a breath, Finn closed his eyes, shrugged his shoulders, and collected himself. “I know that you all came here to watch me butcher this song, but there’s something that I have to do. So please…bear with me for a moment.”

The crowd just stared, utterly bewildered, and all Rey could do was recall Ben’s mention of their conversation at the gym and think to herself Holy Shit.

“Rose,” He lowered his gaze to meet her eyes. Rey immediately hugged herself awkwardly and took a shy step back, until she was standing a little behind and off to the side. Rose, meanwhile, had crossed her arms and was lifting her chin in his direction. Meanwhile, the people around them were parting like the Red Sea.

“I need to tell you something.”

Rey watched Rose tilt her head.

He nodded slowly, “I have been a shitty, shitty friend.”

The crowd shuffled for a moment. Rey could’ve sworn she heard someone groan out something like dude what the fuck is this?

But Finn continued, undeterred. He raised his gaze to the crowd, his expression surprisingly stern. “You see, everyone, Rose and I here have been friends and housemates since we were eighteen. We were never an item, but not long ago, things started to change between us. And I…I was too in my own head to realize what was happening until it was too late.”

Rey glanced at Rose, who had started to raise her shoulders in the way that she would always do when nervous. After a breath, she raised her gaze to Finn, who, to her surprise, had squatted down so that his head was as in line with theirs as possible. Instantly, she could see several girls, including Paige and Jannah, shuffle to the edges of the parted crowd, as though they were lionesses getting ready to pounce and protect a fellow member of their pride.

“Rose,” He said softly. “That night…when we were arguing, and you told me that you had feelings for me. When you ki…” He stopped himself halfway through the word, as if he’d just remembered that they were in a crowd among classmates and strangers who would never let them live this moment down. But it was clear what he’d begun to say. Some guy let out an unmistakeable whistle in response, only to be immediately shushed by a female voice.

Rey was stunned. In that same moment, Rose whirled and locked eyes with her for a breath, as if to apologize for leaving out that detail.

Finn stopped, then cleared his throat. “I shut down. I made you believe that you had done something wrong, when I was just too much of a coward to admit the truth about my feelings.”

A few people began to boo in response. She could’ve sworn she heard Jannah yell at someone to shut up.

Finn jumped to his feet, clearly on a roll emotionally. “I was an idiot,” He said emphatically, lowering his gaze to Rose. She seemed paralyzed on the spot, and when Rey took a careful step towards her, she thought she could spot an unmistakeable tremble.

“I was an idiot, and a coward. And I should have sat you down and told you the truth, but every time I just…chickened out. And eventually, I realized that the only way to make things right—” His gaze shifted slightly to the side, and when Rey blinked and tried to find the target…she very quickly found Ben. And he was smiling.

“The only way to make things right,” Finn repeated, his voice strengthening with resolve. “Would be to do something so monumentally stupid and cliche that I would never be able to live it down.” He swept a hand across the room like a showman. “So everyone in this room, fellow medical students and such, and possibly some future TikTok viewers,” He said, pointing to a few people who had taken out their phones. “I hope you are enjoying this speech, because I have been working on it for days.”

“Please finish this before I kick you off the stage,” said the DJ into their own microphone, jolting everyone in the room.

Finn whirled, apologized profusely, then when he received a smug smile and nod, he cleared his throat theatrically and faced the crowd.

“Rosanna Lan Tico, the first time we met was our first night of university, when I spilled my drink on you and you flipped me off and called me a dumbass.”

A sea of snickers erupted. Rey nearly did the same, as she had been talking to Rose when the incident had taken place.

“And as that night continued and we started bonding over school, our goals, and our mutual hatred of avocado…I couldn’t help but think to myself, now this is someone who I want to keep in my life…and I will never let her go. And, as if the universe itself had willed it, we stuck together for years. We live together. You have been my study buddy since day one. And the whole time, I told myself that I was happy because you were my friend, and that I should never ruin the friendship by asking for more. I thought that adding a new label would be too intimate. I thought saying ‘I love you’ would ruin what we already had.”

He took a breath for a moment. But Rose said nothing. Rey quietly pivoted away from her friend to let her have the moment.

“But then I realized, we’ve been doing this the whole time. We know each other’s favourite colours, foods, books and movies, organ systems and drugs. Every secret, every embarrassing moment, every triumph, and you’re the first one to know. You always make pho on nights when I argue with my parents, and I buy you your favourite cookie when the residents chew you out. Every day we show how we love each other in the little moments, label or not. Because life is hard, so we try to find ways to make each other’s time more bearable. I know now that I do it because the world is a better place when you’re here. And when you’re happy, I know everything is going to be okay.”

The speech was directed to Rose, and only Rose, but nevertheless Rey felt her breath catch in her throat. She stared, utterly absorbed in his words, that the world began to move in slow motion as he carefully lowered himself off the stage and took a step towards her.

“Rose, you are my best friend. And I want you to know that I am head over heels in love with you.”

Rose had no microphone on her, but her words were loud and clear. Defiant, cheeky, and so clearly the words of someone who already knew the answer to her question. “So what do you want to do about it?”

Finn’s lips twitched, then quickly spread into a boyish smile. “Well, in a few minutes I’m going to ask you on a date. But right now…I’m finally going to kiss you.”

Without another word, he lowered his mic, then stepped forward and cupped Rose’s cheek in his hand before pressing his lips against hers. Rey watched as Rose became utterly powerless against him, falling back before slowly gathering herself and wrapping her arms around his shoulders and neck.

Slowly, she began to hear the sounds of slow clapping, which quickly rippled into a round of applause that sounded like it was straight out of movie. Someone yelled out yeah get it Finn! Others laughed and cheered happily, until finally the couple broke apart and exchanged a laugh. 

Rey was smiling wider than anyone, but though her hands were making movements to applaud their big moment, something did flash through her mind. Like a jolt of lightning that made every hair on her body stand up, though her hands kept clapping as though relying on muscle memory Clap. Clap. Clap.

She clapped as they exchanged a second kiss. She let out a cheer as Finn returned the microphone and they made their way to the edge of the crowd, hand in hand, already looking like it was their wedding reception. 

Paige found her way to Rey’s side and crossed her arms, though her gaze was fixed on the path where the couple had just been. “They’ll be good for each other, right?”

Rey did not meet her eyes, but said “Yeah, they’re perfect.”

She took a very large swig of her drink at some point, when it was just her and the world, and a townie was onstage singing Sweet Caroline. Ben asked her if she was doing okay. She nodded at the floor, winced at the feeling of something in her stomach, and said that she couldn’t be better.

She meant it. When she was called back to the stage, just as Finn and Rose were returning to the floor from wherever they’d been, her hair dishevelled and his shirt clearly on backwards, all she could think was they made a lovely couple.

***

When Ben Solo was preparing to begin his clerkship, he sat down with his therapist to discuss his life thus far. All of his guilt and regrets with his family, his career choices, and his hopes and fears for the upcoming year. He’d brought up his irritation with getting paired up with Rey, which in turn sparked a half hour discussion that involved him telling the therapist the whole truth about that day in the hospital. Not just that he’d nearly jumped off the hospital roof, but that meeting this dying girl was the reason he didn’t.

He was advised to reframe the news as a chance to start fresh. Consider how she was feeling about the situation, and make an effort to develop a cordial relationship. They’d gotten along once before, even if for a brief activity, and maybe they could do so again. If he was feeling uncomfortable about their age difference, then consider treating Rey and Teodora as separate people. After all, they were both legal adults, and it had been nearly a decade since their first meeting.

He’d given their partnership a shot, even when it was clear that she was still closed off and hostile. He’d held his tongue and tried not to lash out when she told him to fuck off after her fainting episode. He’d gone home the first two nights hoping, praying that the rotation would end as quickly as possible.

And then…she had kissed him. And at first, he was dumbfounded. He didn’t know what to make of it. But within hours, a new clarity had struck him, and all of those hazy images of her in his mind began to take form into something more coherent. He had been attracted to her all throughout medical school, hadn’t he? The revelation was new, and strange, and felt so utterly wrong, but he instantly understood that he wanted her. Primal urges or more, he wanted her.

Rey was clearly feeling something too, but something was holding her back. He could stand to put aside the truth of his feelings and use a meeting with Luke as convenient obfuscation. He was willing to reach out for her, of course, but what they were doing had never simply been transactional sex, no matter how much Rey wanted to deny it.

And to be fair, she was remarkably quick to make the jump from “arranging the meeting,” to “getting things out of their system,” to “friends with benefits.” At least two of their classmates had already teased him about his new girlfriend.

He was still debating how and when—or even if—to tell her the full story about Luke. But with each passing day, as her excitement for their meeting grew, he found himself increasingly unwilling to bring up the subject. And that was a fine arrangement; it allowed them to spend time together without unnecessary drama.

He’d find a way to tell her. Or at least prepare her. Maybe then she wouldn’t hate him as much when the time came.

But for now, they had a routine. Driving to Coruscant, rounds, work, studying, and home. Every night, he would lie awake alone in bed and ask himself if he was a bad person for letting this go on. The only ‘date’ that they’d ever had was the first night in Digan’s, but she would punch him if he ever tried to call it that again. That said, the idea that they were just friends was feeling more ridiculous with each passing day. He knew that eventually they would have to sit down like adults and discuss what they were.

But truth be told, he was afraid.

He had memorized every inch of her body, every little scar, every shade in her twinkling eyes, and every little inflection in her voice. Yet for all of their lingering gazes and electric touches, there was always a small, mocking voice in the back of his head, perpetually questioning whether she actually felt the same way. And even if she did, would a long-term relationship truly be beneficial to her? He’d never been able to commit to a partner for more than a few months, and they were a year and a half away from graduation. The most likely scenario would be that they would end up at two very different hospitals and never directly cross paths again. He would be alone, and it would be no one’s fault but his own.

He understood that it was selfish to keep things going, when he already knew how it was going to end. But he had always been a deeply selfish person, hadn’t he? 

“Agghhh—” Rey groaned, leaning back against the car seat with an exasperated sigh. “We’re going to be late.”

Ben shrugged and tapped his hands against the steering wheel. They were moving at a snail’s pace and still had a good five kilometres to go. “Nothing to do at this point,” He mused, glancing at the clock. They would have to sprint to make the exam on time, but he was not worried. They’d prepared well for this.

“D’you have any good playlists while we wait?”

“What, no more practice questions?” He said with a small chuckle. They’d quizzed each other for five hours straight last night. And somehow, the satisfaction of finding the rhythm and answering questions was even better than the sex itself.

“I have a routine,” She said sternly. “I don’t let myself do any reading the day of the exam.”

“Me neither. I do have a few playlists,” said Ben, pointing to the display screen. “I tend to put this on when I’m on the road for long stretches of time.”

“‘Driving Playlist?’”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“That’s original. And…it has over two hundred songs on it?!” Rey seemed horrified, but he knew that she wasn’t being entirely serious.

“I skip through songs until I settle on what I am in the mood for that day.”

“Okay, so show me what’s on there.” Rey pressed shuffle and set down his phone. He skipped Sweet Child o’ Mine after the first few notes. Then several songs spanning about five decades of music. She perked up when the opening guitar of a few Taylor Swift songs played. And at some point, he just started skipping through stuff for the hell of it. Anything that afforded him a spare moment to study her surprised and bemused expressions.

A few minutes out from the hospital, he skipped one more, then stopped and turned up the volume. The dashboard screen said Fleetwood Mac, but he couldn’t see the actual song name. 

He was about to touch the screen and skip, when Rey’s hand shot out to block his fingers. When she turned her head, her glare looked downright murderous. He would’ve honestly been frightened of her if not for the adorable way that she would scrunch her nose when angry or determined.

“Don’t you dare skip this one.”

He returned her gaze to the road, smiled to himself and made a show of lifting his hand from the dashboard. “Fine, if you feel so strongly about it.”

“I do.” Rey smiled to herself and closed her eyes, her skin nearly glowing in the sunlight. He was so transfixed on her face that he almost ran the next red, but he snapped himself out of it in the nick of time and focused on the road.

When he was a young teenager, working through his first crush, he asked Dad what made him realize that he was truly in love with Mom. Not the day that he realized he liked her. But the day that he realized he was truly, madly, utterly in love, and ready to marry her and never let it go. He had smiled wistfully before vividly describing a morning. It was a few months into their friendship, when she’d woken up early at his place at the crack of dawn, immediately turned up an ABBA record so loud that it had caused a noise complaint, and then proceeded to steal a bottle of coke and make scrambled eggs for them both. All while singing her absolute heart out.

He didn’t understand it then. But he certainly did now.

If I could, baby I’d give you my world…

***

…How can I, when you won’t take it from me?

The microphone was shaking in her hands, bobbing close to her mouth before she pulled it back. Then, in the fleeting moment that she had to herself before the chorus, she glanced to the side, where Ben was smiling in the shadows of the crowd and holding up a glass as though toasting to her performance.

She took a breath, felt the tightness in her chest lighten, then closed her eyes, dipped her head, tapped the wooden stage, and began to sing as loudly as she could—

You can go your own way!

You can call it an—oother lone—ly daaa—aay!

Rey knew that she was off-key, half-breathless, shaking, unable to control the pitch or tone of her voice, but between the buzz and the vibrant atmosphere of the bar she just didn’t care what anyone thought of her. Her drunkest classmates were cheering her on, and despite the depressing context of the song, it was among her all time favourites. It made her feel like a rockstar, unabashedly shouting her deepest feelings to the world without a care for how she would be received. Post-exam karaoke was a well-known tradition at Chandrila; a communal event where she could be completely and utterly herself without an ounce of judgment. Like sitting with her feet up on the dashboard, scream-singing with the ones she loved.

Her ears thundered with each note that she sang with her head voice, while the mic continued to tremble in her hands and the lights flashed every colour of the rainbow. A head bobbed in the distance, a hand rose to a mouth to shout, some were watching from the bar, a couple was sitting in the corner attempting to flirt with each other. It was a pure social event, stupid and perfect. She loved it.

That said, she could never figure out how to fill time when singing songs with long instrumental breaks. Towards the end as the vocals were fading out, she tried putting the microphone back on the stand, taking it off, shuffling between her feet and echoing the chorus again like she was an aspiring Fleetwood Mac cover band backup singer.

Go your own waayyyy—

Rose let out a loud whoop, and when Rey turned towards her, it filled her heart with joy to see her beaming, feeling right at home within Finn’s arms. He offered a quick grin and thumbs up before wrapping her arms back around Rose’s shoulders, placing his chin on her head. She was unbelievably relieved that they’d managed to work it out, and nothing but delighted for their future.

So many years of the three of them as a platonic…and now the two of them were fresh off a very public declaration of love.

Finn gently took hold of his wrist, while Rose’s hands crept further up his forearms. Her smile was as wide as ever, and both of them were watching her.

Suddenly, the room began to feel a little smaller. The lights above her head changed colour to a dark blue as the song began fading into the background.

Her head whipped towards Ben, standing only a few feet away. He was smiling so warmly at her, bathed in the cool blue light. With a deep breath, she quietly concluded the song, never taking her eyes off him, then delicately stepped back from the microphone stand and gave an awkward bow to her classmates. The clapping was sparse as she stepped off the stage, which was fine by her. Within seconds, she’d weaved her way through the first few rows of people before reaching Ben.

He handed her cider back to her, then leaned in and said quietly: “You have a lovely voice, sweetheart.”

That term was really becoming a pet name for him. He seemed to revel in how it would make her feel hot and bothered whenever he whispered it into her ear.

She pulled back and gave a quivering smile. “Thanks Ben,” She managed nervously, before taking a swig out of her glass. The corners of her vision were beginning to fog slightly, and a mild cramping sensation was beginning to take form in her stomach. Was this her third shot? Not counting the wine they’d had at her place before coming?

At that moment, she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her from behind in an embrace, lifting her off the ground and forcing her to giggle. “Finn—“ She shouted, trying to turn her head. All at once, she forgot how much alcohol she’d had and let herself enjoy her friend’s affection.

“Hey peaaa—nuut,” He said in a singsong voice, immediately wrapping her in a bear hug. She reciprocated immediately, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms tightly around his back.

“You finally did it lover boy,” Rey said teasingly in his ear, just quietly enough so that no one could hear. Just to confirm, she opened one eye to see if she could find Rose. She was there, but her attention was directed towards Ben. They seemed to be laughing at a joke.

Finn chuckled, still wrapped in the embrace. “I guess I did.”

Rey closed her eyes and grinned, patting his back. “You better treat her right, I mean it.” When she pulled back, Finn was grinning ear to ear, his expression saying coyly who, me?

“I mean it,” she poked a finger into the centre of his chest. “We’re all still friends, but if you break her heart I will tear you a new one.”

Finn glanced down, then up, and let out a hearty laugh and picked her up with another bear hug. “I know. And I love you too!”

When they broke the hug and she turned around, Rose was in her own world, sipping away at her drink and loudly singing along to Jess and Orla’s rendition of Don’t Stop Believing. Rey turned back to Finn, but he too was gazing at Rose, clearly enchanted by her mere presence. 

Rey smiled to herself as Finn weaved around her until he was standing behind Rose, carefully wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder. They smiled at each other, swaying back and forth in unison to the song. Rey felt her heart flutter ever-so-slightly as Finn craned his neck down, as if to whisper in her ear, though the back of his head obscured whatever he was saying.

He pulled back. Rose glanced at him, rolled her eyes, then chuckled before turning her attention back to the song.

Rey felt a small shiver go down her spine. Instinctively, her shoulders began to draw inwards, and her gaze fell slightly until the ever-changing colours and bobbing heads and arms were a blurry and distant haze at the top of her view. In a split second, various figures weaved around her, their clothing brushing against hers. Her chest heaved ever so slightly—why was it doing that?—and she scrunched her eyes shut.

Finn and Rose were her best friends. This was the best possible resolution. They’d finally made up after weeks of pettiness and miscommunication. More than that, to the uninformed observer they looked like they were on their goddamned honeymoon. She still remembered when the three of them used to sit around in the residence common areas, studying, gossiping, taking shots and laughing together about their dating woes, and oh wouldn’t it be funny and hey let’s try this tonight, what happens in Woodstock stays in Woodstock. Nothing was ever actually serious. But she used to see the way that tender glances that they would pass over each other’s form when they thought the other wasn’t looking. She knew in her heart, even if she could not understand it then.

This was always going to happen. And tomorrow, they would tell her that it’s not going to change anything. They were always going to be a trio. But she knew. She knew.

Rey opened her eyes, exhaled deeply, then turned to Ben and stood on her toes to say in his ear. “D’you want another drink?”

She realized, almost immediately, that he was watching the pair as well. After a beat, he turned to her, nodded sternly, then carefully wrapped his hand around her shoulders and led them to the bar. They both got whiskey on the rocks and slowly sipped away at them while leaning with their backs against the wooden bar, barely exchanging a word. Her attention was almost entirely focused on her friends, who were now against a nearby column, playfully nuzzling each other and sharing small pecks.

“How are you doing?”

Rey blinked and turned to Ben, who held up his glass expectantly.

She glanced down, swirled her drink around, then shrugged and downed the rest. “I need another one.”

He did not protest when she nearly climbed over the bar asking for another shot. Instead, as she began to work away at it he carefully moved closer to her and lowered his hand, brushing it against her elbow.

Rey closed her eyes, took in the comforting scent of his form, and allowed herself to lower her hand so that their fingers met. When they did touch, she shivered slightly at the feeling, like she was touching live wire. Her pulse began to speed up, the stomach cramp returned, and she took a moment to exchange a look with him.

Ben smiled at her tenderly, his eyes deep brown, empathetic, tender, and welcoming. She smiled back and nuzzled in a little closer, just so that he could wrap his hand around her waist.

She felt him kiss the top of her head and whisper, so quietly that only the two of them could hear: “I’ve got you.”

When it was Ben’s turn to step onto the stage, the room went dead silent. He barely seemed to pay them any mind, instead focusing on the small screen in front of him as the title and lyrics took shape. Then, just as he began the first word, his eyes drifted towards hers, and her breath hitched. The world slowed, and it became one of those moments that she’d never imagined truly experiencing. That moment when they were the only two people in the world.

All my bags are packed I’m ready to go…

She’d never actually heard him sing before. Even in the car when he played his music, he would only ever hum along with her, never attempting to sing the lyrics.

I’m standing here outside your door…

His voice was low and uncertain at the start, but grew in strength and resolve as he seemed to find the emotional tone and melody that he was looking for. But oh how it carried a sweet timbre, intimate in nature. He was singing this old ballad about loneliness and separation from one’s love. A man going off to war, a ghost wishing the best before passing on.

When he began the chorus, she felt her heart flutter and lips begin to move of their own accord, as though he had captured her in a trance.

She closed her eyes, feeling a subtle warmth at her shoulder.

So kiss me and smile for me…Tell me that you’ll wait for me…hold me like you’ll never let me go.

He met her gaze, the world around them went still, and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

Cause I’m leaving on a jet plane…

Don’t know when I’ll be back again…

Oh babe…I hate to go.

She felt like she was being held tight, like he was telling her in front of the world that he was hers and he was never going to let anyone break them apart.

Rey was entranced. She couldn’t even bring herself to speak or move until he finished the song, stepped off the stage, and walked straight through the crowd. Only when he was standing in front of her, their faces close enough to touch, did he chuckle and gently brush the edge of his hand against her waist. “I was pretty off-key, I know.” He quipped. “Please do not hold it against me.”

“That was—” Rey sniffled slightly, then swiftly wiped a stray bit of moisture away from the corner of her mascara-laden eyes. The gentle, loving look on his face, glowing in the now warm light of the bar made her feel like she was going to melt. Her heart was fluttering like it never really had before. “—It was lovely,” She smiled, feeling her eyes begin to water again. “I didn’t know you could sing like that.”

Ben blinked, his chest heaving slightly, as though it was the last thing he’d been expecting to hear. Slowly, his expression softened again. “Next time we come here, we can duet.”

As the night began to settle and the last few singers clambered onstage to slur through classic rock, the majority of the med students began to quietly exit the bar. Paige made an appearance to embrace the gang one by one before quickly leaving to grab an uber with Jannah and the rest of their friends.

Soon enough, the Rey was standing at the entrance with Ben, Finn, and Rose.

“You guys are heading out?” Rey asked.

“We got an Uber,” said Rose with a mischievous grin, nudging Finn expectantly. Then, she nodded to Rey and Ben in turn. “See you guys Monday, I guess?”

Rey nodded, trying her best to find her smile. When Rose jumped out of Finn’s arms to hug her, she nearly fell backwards with surprise.

“Get home safe, okay?” She said.

Rey nodded and closed her eyes, holding tight to her friend. “You guys too.”

After a few seconds, Rose pulled back and offered both her and Ben an excited nod. To Rey’s surprise, she immediately reached up to hug Ben. He was so much taller than her that her shoes nearly left the ground before they broke off.

The car appeared moments later, and the couples waved goodbye to each other before Rey and Ben were left standing along on the sidewalk.

He crossed his arms and turned to her. “Your place or mine?”

“Yours tonight,” Rey said emphatically. They didn’t necessarily have a formal schedule, but her dirty laundry pile was still on the floor of her bedroom. She figured that sex in her apartment while it was in that state would ruin the mood.

Luckily, Ben didn’t question this. He took out his phone and began to search for an uber, while Rey hugged herself and tried to march in place to stave off the rapidly cooling air.

After a moment she heard him make a face and loudly complain: “Come on, what the fuck is this—” She glanced up in confusion. He sighed exasperatedly and showed her the phone screen. The only car available was fifteen minutes away and there was a 1.6x surcharge.

Rey almost wanted to laugh, hearing him swear like that while doing something other than sex, but a gust of wind caused a shiver to run down her spine. Her apartment was a good few kilometres away, so that wouldn’t work in the brisk October air.

She turned to face him. “Which way is it to your place?”

He seemed to take a breath to orient himself, circling his finger in the air. Then he pointed to their right.

Before he had the chance to say anything, Rey started speed walking in that direction.

“Hey!” He yelled after her. Within moments he’d caught up, his large careful strides matching her speedier pace. “What are you doing?”

“It’s too cold to just stand here!” She said plainly, tucking her chin into her scarf.

“Okay, so where are you going?”

“You know where.”

“It’s a thirty minute walk from here!” He yelled.

“Then I’ll move fast!” She said stubbornly, picking up her pace.

“Not in those shoes,” Ben muttered, catching up to her.

“I can walk in heels you know,” She quipped.

“Yes, but there’s ice forming on the sidewalk. You need to slow down or you’re going to trip.”

“Are you serious—” Rey began to protest, before getting the sudden distinct feeling of a rock getting caught under her heel. With a yelp, she began flailing and launched forward, nearly falling backwards onto the cold concrete when she felt Ben’s arm take hold of her back, fingers wrapping around her waist. Her arm flew up in that same moment, and she felt herself press her hand against the centre of his chest.

It was, without a doubt, the most cliche rom-com moment that Rey had ever experienced in her life.

But when she felt her heart pounding, it wasn’t from fear or embarrassment, but excitement. An overpowering, indescribably want. Need. 

Ben’s free hand crept towards her cheek, cupping it gently. “You know, this is the second time I’ve had to catch you, sweetheart.” His smile was so genuine and loving that it nearly made her heart stop. Without a moment’s hesitation, he crouched, wrapped the hand around her knees, and picked her up as though she were lighter than air.

Rey opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She felt her body tense up, unsure of what to do next, frightened of messing up the moment.

But as he stood still, cradling her like a bride on her wedding day, a small voice in her head said it’s okay. You’re okay. You are safe. You are cared for.

And in that moment, in the brisk autumn night, her feet dangling a foot above the sidewalk and her hand still on Ben Solo’s heart, she decided to let go of any lingering irrational fears that had once plagued her when she thought about him and his intentions.

She liked Ben Solo. He might have been irritatingly quiet and reticent, with far too many ghosts that he was not ready to face. He knew how to cut deep in a fight, and he knew how to hurt her specifically, but he was funny and gentle and fundamentally a good person. He had guarded one of her greatest secrets for years without judgment or pity, and the more time they spent together…the more she felt that she could trust him with her heart. She’d struggled for so long so open up to anyone after Mum died, and sometimes still felt like she was communicating with the world through an unbreakable glass wall…with Finn, Rose…even Jess. But Ben felt like a familiar presence guiding her through a tumultuous storm. He made her feel like she could open up about anything. He made her feel grounded and mutually depended on. He made her feel like she could be herself, and so much more.

So, without another moment’s hesitation, she reached up, and kissed him.

If the action surprised him, he hid it well, and slowly began to lower her to the ground. He repositioned them so that they were facing each other, deepening the kiss, warmth blooming in her chest as she climbed onto her toes and laced her arms around his neck. His large hands found the edges of her waist and began to slip further down until it found her hips, and then her ass.

Rey giggled and broke off. “Ben—“ She murmured, reaching for his hand, “—someone will see—”

His eyes were twinkling in the soft glow of the streetlights, while he was grinning like a schoolboy. “There’s no one around.”

“Still—” She said, though her hand was moving further away from his. “It is freezing.”

“Then we can continue this in my room,” He said with a subtle growl, pressing his lips against hers so hard that she nearly stumbled backwards.

Her stomach was fluttering, the world was slowing from the haze of her tipsiness and affection. She wished that they could stay in this moment for just a little longer.

“Okay, so where is that evasive uber?”

He paused, then, one arm around her shoulder, rubbing her back so that the chill breeze wouldn’t make her shiver, he fished his phone out of his pocket to check. The nearest one was now twenty two minutes away and the surcharge was 1.8x.

Rey considered their options. “I can chip in for the ride,” She offered with a shrug.

He glanced at her, then the phone, and both directions of the sidewalk. Then, he made his decision.

“I think we can make it back before then,” He said. “But—” he pointed at her heels. “You should take those off. There is a very icy patch of sidewalk coming up and I do not want you breaking your neck.” 

She scoffed. “I am not walking barefoot at this time of night.”

“Suit yourself.” He said, getting down on one knee.

“I—Ben!” She yelped as he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, then dissolved into a fit of giggles once he’d positioned her into a fireman’s carry. She was holding his arms for dear life and staring at the concrete while his other hand was holding tight to her thighs.

“Calm down,” said Ben as he walked, his voice carrying an airy chuckle that instantly made her feel at ease. “I promise, you’re not going to fall.”

Rey sighed to herself, closed her eyes and relaxed into him.

I know.

Rey’s fantabulous list of medical school terms

*Taking a break due to recovery from surgery shelf exam+life-changingly good sex

Chapter Text

“Hi Maz.” 

The Zoom video came into focus, revealing a short, dark-skinned woman wearing a tight blue sash around her grey locks, and a pair of wide-brimmed glasses that made her eyes appear cartoonishly large and bright. Hello again Rey. How have you been enjoying your rotation so far?

Rey pressed her lips into a faint smile, then quickly lowered her hands under the desk, straightening her shoulders.

“It’s been alright,” She said. Their marks from the shelf exam had come out earlier that morning. She’d done better than she had initially expected, with a raw mark in the low eighties. It wasn’t honours, but it was serviceable. “I mean, it was definitely a change from second year. But I think I’m doing okay.”

That’s good to hear! Clerkship is often a major adjustment for medical students. And for those of you in surgery, I expect it was the first time that you set foot in an operating room. Maz said cheerfully. Her eyes were not on Rey, she was reaching across to check something on her own computer, presumably her marks and any extra notes made by her preceptors. Now, the last time we spoke was in January of this year, and as you know we are beginning to enter the phase where you must start considering your plans for residency applications. I see here that you previously declared—

“Pediatrics.”

Yes, pediatrics—Maz said at the same time. Would you still say you are very committed to pursuing this specialty?

Rey nodded. “Of course.”

Maz refocused her gaze on Rey and smiled warmly. Good to hear. Then we need to start looking at your resume to ensure you can get into the program of your choice. Are you interested in any specific cities?

She hesitated, then said “I want to stay here if I can. Doesn’t matter if it’s with Chandrila’s program or McMaster.”

She nodded understandingly. That sounds good, and I recall you had some extracurricular activities in place, this summer camp, local libraries, good—how about research?

“I’ve been meeting with Dr. Djarin,” She said, hoping to make it sound like they’d met in person more than once. “We’re going to start working on a case report soon.”

Maz clapped her hands together. Excellent! Yes, if you want to maximize your chances of matching to your first choice, this is the best way to do it. Research, working with a mentor, and then a reference letter.

Rey nodded and offered a shy smile, remembering D. “That’s good to hear. Is there—” She grimaced slightly, then dropped her gaze. “Is there anything else that I can do to maximize my chances at matching?”

Maz’s image lagged briefly, before she settled and said, Well, I recommend most students to consider a second specialty. Have you considered doing so? I would typically advise internal or family medicine, especially given the competitiveness of your first choice. But it is absolutely up to you.

Rey shifted in her chair. She’d been encouraged to dual apply before, at least by instagram medical school gurus and older students, but she’d always been firm about her choice of specialty with her immediate friends. 

“I—” She sighed deeply, then closed her eyes, suddenly feeling a cool breeze against her back. Beep. Beep. The sound of beeping was coming from the screen.

Sorry! Maz let out a small chuckle from the other side of the screen, before swiftly exiting her line of view. That was my microwave.

. Rey chuckled nervously as she returned, scraping her thumbs across each other under the desk. “I don’t know, I mean…I think I need to see more of the hospital first. I had a good time with ENT, I suppose. But I think that would be too competitive for me to even try.”

Rey, said Maz softly, interrupting her ramble. My dear, you do not need to have an answer today. Every year I have students who match to the program they wanted from day one, and others who switched in fall of their fourth year. You have time. For today, focus on your studies and you will have nothing to worry about.

She took a deep breath and forced a tight smile. “Thank you.”

***

Rey was lying in bed, half a moment away from sending an apologetic ‘thank you and good night’ text when her phone began to ring. The sound hit her like a thunderclap, causing her to nearly jump out of bed, but when she saw the name she answered without a moment’s hesitation.

The voice on the other side let out a long yawn. “Hey. I’m sorry that took so long, I just finished a surgery. What’s up?”

“Hey, no it’s fine—” Rey yawned, mimicking Jannah. “We can do this tomorrow if it’s easier for you.”

“I’m all good now if you are. How are you doing? Your text sounded pretty urgent, and we didn’t really get a chance to talk the other night.”

Rey sighed deeply as the sound of a police siren below grew louder before subsiding. Fuck it, Jannah of all people wouldn’t care. She wasn’t one to gossip with other people or make assumptions about it. She could tell her.

“I realized this week that…I really like anesthesiology.” The words came out in a short burst, and saying it aloud made her heart begin to race. 

There was silence on the other line, briefly. Then, a satisfied laugh. “Hi Rey,” She joked. “Give yourself a pat on the back, the first step is admitting you like it.” Then, a brief pause, before her tone shifted to something quieter, more stoic. “So what did it for you?”

Rey rolled over so that she was laying the right side of her head against the pillow. “I don’t know, I suppose it was just the atmosphere? I feel like the doctors are nice, and I’ve been able to actually…do things?” It sounded like a child’s answer. If this were an interview she would’ve been laughed out the door.

“Yeah, that’s usually how it starts. Are you thinking of applying?”

Rey hesitated. “I don’t know, I still need time to figure it out. But…I don’t know, do you think it’s real? I’ve only done one block of third year, I might just be fixating on it, right?”

Jannah seemed to consider her logic, then made an ehhh sound on the other side of the line. “It’s hard to say. My mentor once joked that it’s like falling in love. You can have small crushes or moments of infatuation, but when you know…you know.”

“But that…could always change, right?”

“Of course it can. You still have a year before you really need to start your CARMS applications. I know people who changed their minds a month before the due date.”

“And no one questioned them? Like ‘oh, all of your work was in pediatrics and now you’re switching to dermatology? Are you just in it for the money?’” She’d meant to be doing an impression of an impassive attending, but it came out as something of a word salad.

“I don’t know,” She confessed. “Maybe when you do the job long enough, you can figure out who’s bullshitting and who’s in it for real.”

Immediately, her cheeks began to grow warm at the memory of Ben, carrying her like a firefighter along an ice-covered sidewalk while she laughed herself sick. “And how would I know if it was…you know, real?”

Jannah paused on the other line and seemed to take a deep breath. “This is just how it worked out for me, so please take it with a grain of salt. But I already knew that I was interested in critical care, but I didn’t have my anesthesiology block until halfway through third year. And as soon as I left the OR to start my family medicine block, all I wanted to do was go back. I honestly couldn’t think about anything else for weeks.”

“Really?” Rey asked, her voice rising with a hint of curiosity and awe.

“My mentor told me that you should use two criteria for picking out your specialty. Think about the most tedious, bread-and-butter part of the job, and ask if you can take that for thirty years. Then, ask yourself, if you had to choose tomorrow, which specialties would you be okay with never touching again?”

Rey closed her eyes, absorbing every word. “And then I’ll have my answer?”

“Then you’ll have your answer.”

***

Rey—Can I ask you something?

Rose—Sure, what’s up?

Rey—…so Ben’s parent’s are in town, they asked if we could come to dinner

Rose—Omg omg!!! Do they think you’re official?

Rey—…no? But I’ve met his Dad, apparently this was his idea

Rose—Are you going??

Rey—I said yes, but is it too much?

Rose—When did you meet his dad??

Rey—He’s the one who fixed my car

Rose—Oooooh

Rey—We’re just going to Kelsey’s but like…wtf. Why did I say yes. We’re not official, I don’t think he even told them we’re a couple. Am I crazy??

Rose—NO OMG. It’s just funny you’re doing this out of order. Like you dated Jess for over a year and never met her parents, but now?? I applaud your character development

Rey—Do you guys want to hang out afterwards? Like…ya know, double date to decompress?

…

…

Rey—You OK?

Rose—Yeah, all good…Finn and I won’t be free that night. We’re actually going to Toronto for the weekend.

…

Rey—

..You didn’t—

Ah—

Oh—

Cool—

…

…

Rey—That’s great! 

Rose—I can cancel if you need company. I really don’t mind.

Rey—No, it’s all good. 

…

Rey—You guys have fun :) 

***

Soon after karaoke night, they settled on a date to meet Luke. It was to be a few weeks later than initially planned. Rey decided to do it the weekend after her oncology rotation, when she wouldn’t be bound by call. It might help for her to have that experience her back pocket. After what she’d heard about him and his relationship with Ben, she decided that she didn’t want to risk him downplaying her commitment or telling her that she didn’t actually know what the job would entail. Jannah’s advice was still lingering in the back of her mind.

The day that they made those final plans, Ben asked her three separate times if she was still sure that she wanted to do it. Rey initially thought little of the questions, assuming it was just him being nervous at the prospect of seeing his uncle with her. Of course she wanted to go, she had made up her mind long ago. And, she even managed to rationalize Ben’s presence as a reasonable compromise. Sure, it would make the interaction more awkward by definition, but it would be good for her to have a companion for the big moment in lieu of Mum. And maybe her presence would diffuse some of the tension between the two of them. Maybe it would help him take a step to improve his relationship with his family. She could put her pride aside for him. She owed him that much.

Yet, anytime she tried to think too much about Skywalker’s face, or rehearse what she would want to say to him, something would start gnawing at her stomach. A tiny, nearly imperceptible ulcer, but it was nevertheless growing.

The night that they were to meet Ben’s parents, Rey spent over an hour working on herself in front of the mirror. Her hair was loose, makeup clean and neutral, and she was trying to find an outfit that would be appropriate for meeting old people without being too formal or modest. She didn’t want to dress like she was trying to impress them, and even if she was, Han had seemed like a reasonable man. Ben’s mother was apparently quite laid back herself, but that could’ve meant any number of things. He’d said that they weren’t particularly adherent, so she didn’t feel compelled to wear any of her old church-designated maxi skirts to avoid anyone’s judgmental gazes. She settled on her one good pair of her business casual grey pants, which flared out at the base over her scuffed black loafers, and a blue polyester button up blouse with cuffed sleeves. It had originally been a bright sky blue, but years of wear had rendered it pale and dull. Still, it was one of her more adult shirts. Replacing it would be one of her first priorities when she started getting a paycheck.

When she opened the door for Ben, the first thing that came out of her mouth was a bemused, “You’re early.”

He was dressed in a sleek all-black outfit—black jeans, a black turtle-neck, and a black Canada Goose jacket folded neatly over his arm. His overall aesthetic was appealing, for sure. Sexy and refined, even, but it also looked nearly identical to every other recreational outfit he’d worn around her since they’d met. Second priority of residency? She would buy this man a jacket with a splash of actual colour. Maybe maroon. Or plum. Maybe she wouldn’t even wait that long. His birthday was in November, she could start looking now.

He raised his eyebrow and scanned her figure for a moment, his lips quickly curling into a sardonic smile. “Are you wearing your OSCE outfit?”

Rey instantly felt her face go red-hot. Her cheeks puffed out, her mouth twisted and morphed, unable to settle on an expression, and she immediately shifted her focus on the cuff of her sleeve, which was still wrinkled at the bottom. “It’s not inappropriate, is it? You said your parents would be…chill, right?”

When she glanced up, he let out the mildest of chuckles. For a moment, she could have sworn that she saw a splash of red spreading across his cheeks too. “Absolutely not. Frankly, I don’t think they’d care if you showed up wearing a paper bag. I just find it funny that you chose this.”

Rey remained speechless, wondering for a moment if she should tell him that it was the only business casual outfit in the apartment that fit her.

 He scanned her for a second, from her shoes to her face. But when he lifted his gaze to meet hers, he paused for a moment, as though he’d sensed that she was getting caught up in her own thoughts…and self doubts.

Without skipping another beat, Ben smiled, his eyes and voice softening in unison. “You always looked beautiful during the exams…” He shrugged one shoulder, raising a hand to absentmindedly tuck a piece of hair behind his ear. Even in the low light of the apartment, Rey could see a whisper of red spread across his cheeks. “…even if you never changed up your outfit.” As he said those words, he began leaning in closer, his smile widening with an air of mischief.

Rey didn’t have time to ruminate on the implication behind his words, that he’d been watching her the whole time, long and thoroughly enough to know that she ritualistically wore this outfit to all of her oral exams to optimize her performance. All too quickly, a different urge overtook her. She wanted to bite back.

“You—” She poked playfully at his abdomen, enjoying the feel of his soft skin between his shirt and thick muscles. “—Do not get to talk to me about reusing my outfits, not when you always dress like the villain in a space opera.” She twirled her finger playfully at his outfit. “Though, I suppose today you look more like Steve Jobs.” Though only half-satisfied at her awkwardly playful jab, she turned on one heel and went to the kitchen counter to grab her keys and lip gloss.

Just as she picked them up, however, she tensed, feeling a hand delicately brush up against her hip. She whirled instinctively, knowing that he would be there but unable to stop her body’s defences. His eyes widened in that moment, realizing that he’d made a mistake, and he quickly began to pull his hand back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—that was out of line.”

Rey sighed and closed her eyes, bringing a finger to rub at her temple . Brush it off, it’s not his fault he didn’t do anything wrong. “No, no it wasn’t a all,” She mumbled. “You just startled me.” When she opened her eyes, he was breathing slowly and deeply, his shoulders tense and brows furrowed with concern.

“Sorry,” He said. They both remained silent for a moment, the pause lingering in the air like a thin layer of smoke. 

But she didn’t want to ruin this. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

Wordlessly, Rey climbed onto her toes and kissed him.

His eyes fluttered open slowly as she pulled back. Then, “Do you want to do anything before we go? We have some time to kill. ” He took a step back and rested his hand on the counter.

Rey glanced down briefly at it, then met his gaze and took a half-step closer to him. “Maybe,” She said playfully, her heart fluttering as she began to drag her own hand across the counter. She wasn’t looking, at his hand, but enjoying that tactile experience, of brushing her fingers across the cold ceramic until she finally met the warm point of resistance. Slowly, deftly, she twined her fingers within his and began to guide his hand off the counter. “I might want you to do that again. Just…slower. And I want to look at you.” In a few moments, his hand was on her waist, and her hips were rolling into his. A fluid movement, the space closed between them, and there it was.

Rey let out a muted gasp as their legs made contact. Even through their pants, she could feel the shape of his cock, warm and swollen with want. With a small breath, her eyes never leaving his, she let go of his hand and began to move hers towards his belt line.

Ben’s breath hitched as her fingers crept down, but quickly his expression morphed into a deep satisfaction. “This is what you want, right?” His expression was one of self-satisfaction, challenge, as though to say what a good girl you are. Of course you want this. But when she did not speak, he hesitated, blinked, and said in a quieter voice, his brow furrowed uncertainly—“This is what you want, right?”

God, what did it say about her that she found his hesitancy to be such a turn-on? 

Her lips met his instantly. “Yes,” She breathed against him, sneaking her finger clumsily under his pants. “Yes, it is.”

“Yeah?” He growled, kissing at the side of her lip. His voice was low and sultry, making a shiver run up her spine. “Do you want me to do this?” As he said those words, his enormous hand drifted across her back, to the side of her thigh, closer and closer to the zipper of her pants.

Rey met his dark eyes, sparkling like starlight, and nodded furiously, inching her pelvis closer to his palm, feeling warm liquid build in her stomach, hoping, praying that he would get the hint. “I do.”

But to her surprise, he lifted his hand off of her pants, and tilted his head. “You do, what?”

Rey regarded him incredulously. He knew exactly what she wanted from him, how dare he withhold that from her now?

Then, lifting his chin and steeling his jaw, he continued—“Rey,” He chided lightly. “I am not moving  until you tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

She raised an eyebrow, but then stopped at the feeling of her heart fluttering within her chest. Slowly, she removed her hand from his cock, still rock-hard under her fingers, until her hand mirrors his.

He needed her to declare it? Fine.

“I want you to put your fingers inside me.”

Ben’s mouth widened, and he tilted his head again, until he was smiling sardonically. “Come on sweetheart,” He mused. “Be more specific. We don’t have very long to do this after all.”

“You—” She sighed, bit her lip, and let out a small laugh, before shaking his head and lifting her chin defiantly. “Fine. Ben. Fucking. Solo. Right now, I am going to unzip my pants, and I want you to put your fingers inside of me. And with your other hand—” She began to guide it towards the spot on her back, turning them both so that he was pressing her up against the edge of her countertop, his elbow against her spine and his palm cupping the back of her head.  “You will hold me steady right here.”

Before she even finished her sentence, his hand began to drift to her belt line, greedily, but then he froze, and glanced up at her. “How many fingers, sweetheart?”

She regarded him for a moment, amused, and began to open her pants and shimmy them down to the bottom of her hips.  “However many you need to make me come.”

This seemed to be adequate for him; within moments of her uttering these commands, he had settled into position like a good soldier.

His eyes never left hers as he parted the walls and slid his first finger inside of her cunt. She let out a small wince at the feeling, her breath hitching with every small movement.

“You’re already so wet, sweetheart” He murmured bemusedly, leaning in to kiss the side of her lips. “I’m barely doing anything, and you are so wet for me.”

Rey nodded and exhaled deeply, feeling the liquid pour into her stomach, wetter with every small movement of his finger. She looked into his eyes. It wasn’t enough for her. She wasn’t nearly as close as she wanted to be.

“Ben—” She murmured lazily against his lips. “I want two fingers.”

“As you wish,” He mused, and then he put he second inside and she felt herself move closer and closer. He was thrusting them faster now, and maybe it would’ve been enough to make her come if she hadn’t already felt his massive cock inside of her.

“Three.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

She nodded earnestly. “Yes--fuck—fuck me with your fingers—”

She rolled her hips back and forth in time with him, closed her eyes and felt her mind begin to swim. What had they even been doing before this? Did she care? She could’ve stayed in this moment forever, this quiet place where it was just the two of them and they didn’t have a care in the world.

Oh, she was close. She was already so fucking close. And he seemed to know it too, because when she lifted her leg he took it with one hand and held her tight. In one fluid motion, she lifted the other and wrapped around his hips, tight, and he hoisted her up so the her now-bare ass was on the cold countertop, her wetness dampening he surface.

Rey shivered as he repositioned wordlessly, caressing her thighs reverently, glancing between her eyes and her pussy, asking her what she wanted him to do next.

She parted her legs further and laid her head back. “I’m so close Ben,” She said, her voice sharp and clear with resolve. It felt confident, self-assured, like she was having an out of body experience, and so fucking good. “Eat my pussy, let me come in your mouth, and then you can do whatever filthy things you want.”

Immediately, Ben straightened and leaned in, kissing her while gently holding her cheek. “Oh Rey,” He whispered. “I just want to make you happy.”

He ate her out like he was born to do it. His tongue moved deftly across her interior, easily found her clit, and shifted so precisely every time she whispered barely comprehensible commands like left, right, a little up, faster. He didn’t seem to have any need to come up for air, and barely shifted when she came the first time. Then again. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her until she felt like she was spent, and when she felt like she’d had enough she lifted his head and commanded him to fuck her on the spot, and he happily obliged.

It slid in so easily, swollen and hot and pulsating with raw feral pleasure. She had to grab onto the edge of the counter to keep herself grounded as he thrust and again, murmuring words of praise into her neck and lips, until she was crying and begging him to keep going.

They’d done this multiple times by this point, she wasn’t even counting anymore. But this felt thrilling and raw in a new way. She had called all of the shots, no interruptions, no time or place for her mind to wander or her self-consciousness to disrupt the experience. She fucking wanted this, she wanted him and she could’ve kept going until the sun set and rise again.

When it was over, and they were both tired and pants-less in her kitchen, the pair exchanged a glance and laughed heartily, kissing and feeling each other’s bodies until Rey’s phone alarm rang to remind them of dinner.

Chapter Text

Pornography never really covered what happened after the hasty kitchen sex. The awkwardness of going about one’s day, sometimes together, still reeling from the previous half hour, agonizing over whether they would be able to hide the evidence of their debauchery and make themselves presentable for their guests. Up until this point, Ben and Rey had mostly hooked up towards the end of their work or study day, which would be followed by a quick stripping of the scrubs, a shower, and sleep. This time, after they’d cleaned themselves off and rushed out the door, she was still thinking about the untucked corner of her dress, the subtle smears of her makeup—thank God she’d gone for neutral—and the wrinkled areas of her pants.

She adjusted her head in the visor, tucked a few strands of hair behind her ears, then changed her mind again and let them flow freely while the rest of her hair was tucked into a bun. Her loose hair had started to frizz up again from the heat of the sex, and she didn’t give herself any time to fix it up again with a straightening iron. So she’d opted for this, mindful that even if she could hide the messy hair, her clothes were still pretty wrinkled. Hopefully no one would notice.

“Seriously, you do not have to worry about your hair,” Ben said from the driver’s seat. “You look great.”

Rey pursed her lips, gave one final check, and closed the visor.

“Thank you again for doing this,” He murmured as they turned at the intersection.

“Nothing to thank me for.” She said, then paused. “I mean, your Dad invited me, right?” He’d phrased the text to Ben so awkwardly that she’d almost found it endearing. And feel free to bring Rey (if she’s available) Your Mom would love to meet her.

He smiled subtly and nodded to himself. “Yeah, they’re quite impressed that I have a friend that I actually enjoy spending time with. I think he wanted confirmation that he didn’t hallucinate you.”

Something gnawed at her stomach at the word friend. Did it bother her for him to call her that? It suddenly felt so casual considering what they’d just spent the past hour doing.

She found a smile and playfully tilted her head towards him. “You talk like your parents have never met your friends before.” She thought of Hux, or Poe, or any of the other faceless images of his childhood companions.

Mum had met some of Rey’s friends when she was young enough to have playdates. Sometimes she would approve, and sometimes she would make comments about their parents and tell her that she wasn’t allowed to play with them anymore. There was a point—the memories were getting fuzzier with each passing year—when Rey had stopped allowing anyone to hang out with her in front of her mother. But she couldn’t remember which came first. The kids from school who kept barging into her hospital room or living room to lavish gifts paid for by their parents and express condolences? Or the classmate who she’d kissed after returning to high school from treatment, only to be walked in on by Mum. Taka, that was their name. They’d stopped talking to Rey just after that incident.

She grimaced and wrapped her arms around her abdomen.

Ben shrugged, momentarily oblivious to her sudden discomfort. “Not much since they separated. They both met Poe a couple times and they got along well. Hux…” He trailed off and shook his head, as though to rid himself of a bad memory. “He didn’t make a very good impression.” He stopped. “He is a good guy though.” He said that as if he was trying to convince himself. Rey felt that she couldn’t comment due to her preconceived biases, knowing how he’d broken Rose’s heart.

When he didn’t mention any other friends, it made some of the pieces fall into place. “And your Dad invited me tonight…because I’m your…friend?”

“Yeah.”

“A friend who is a girl.”

“That is…accurate, I suppose.”

“And your parents think I’m just…your ‘friend?’” She gently coaxed.

He suddenly blinked and regarded her curiously. “Wh—yeah of course they do.”

Friends who are fucking. Friends who are spending nearly every waking moment together.

Why was it suddenly bothering her so much?

I wanted us to use that label.

“No, I just—” She began, then stopped herself, suddenly feeling ashamed of herself for even thinking of something so narcissistic. “Who do they think I am to you?”

“Well, Dad is the one who invited you, and as far as he knows you’re my friend who had car trouble. Mum just knows you as my plus one for tonight.”

“So you told both your parents that you were bringing…a girl…to dinner, and they didn’t question you about it?”

“That is correct.”

She closed her eyes and took a breath. Was he being deliberately obtuse? “Ben…is there something about this you’re not telling me?”

Ben did not respond.

She took a deep breath. “Did you tell your parents I’m your girlfriend?” It wasn’t meant to be accusatory, and she wasn’t even sure what she wanted him to say. She supposed that she just…wanted him to be clear.

“No, I did not tell them that you’re my girlfriend.” He seemed flustered, almost disgusted at the mere thought.

“Oh,” Her eyes widened, but the word came out flat, defeated. “Okay.” She didn’t know how sure she was.

But something about her tone seemed to affect Ben, and he continued, not angrily or irritably, but with pressured speech as though rationalizing each word in the same breath that it came out of his mouth. 

“Yes, fine, I’m sure that my parents might see me hanging out with a girl, and make their assumptions. But we’re not teenagers, we agreed that we’re friends, and it is perfectly normal to keep the details of our sex lives to ourselves. Dad already invited you, so I figured we might as well go and get a nice dinner out of it.” With each word, his free hand became increasingly animated. He did that a lot, she noticed. He talked with his hands when he was passionate…or nervous. Was that it? He was just nervous to see his own parents?

“It’s okay,” She said in a voice that suddenly seemed too small for how she felt. “Yeah, it’s fine. And yeah…I’m the one who wanted to be friends, right?”

When he didn’t immediately deny it, she felt something gurgle uncomfortably in her stomach.

He drew in a deep breath, then spoke again, his voice low and gentle. “Please tell me if this is too much. We don’t have to do this, we can just go home and have a night in.”

“Very tempting,” She mused.

“We’ll go to Shoppers, grab some ice cream and popcorn, then finally start the Pitt and roast its inaccuracies.”

Rey quietly chuckled to himself, imagining the beauty of such a quiet, intimate night. But then she saw another wrinkle in her blouse, and it brought her back to reality.

“I don’t know,” She murmured, turning her gaze to the window. The sky was overcast, already half-dark and hiding the sun.

Ben’s car rolled slowly along King Street, trailing a line of dark SUVs.

Rey took awhile to gather her thoughts, then dipped her head back and rubbed at her temples. “When I got upset with you about Dr. Skywalker, and your Dad, and I don’t know if I ever properly explained why.”

Ben’s eyes never left the road. “You don’t owe me any kind of explanation.” His tone was low and stern.

She sighed and leaned her head against the side window, hugging herself. “It’s not…it’s not that I owe you anything, I just realized that I’ve never really had the words for why it bothered me. And it’s not just you, I’ve snapped at Finn and Rose for less over the years.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve spent my life having things done on my behalf, things…” She bit her lip. “...kept from me, until it was too late. And every single time people would act like I didn’t matter. They were just doing what was best for me, or sparing my feelings. And so often, I would be the last one to find out about things. I would just end up looking and feeling stupid…and helpless.”

Ben was silent. A car whipped past them, making Rey shiver in her seat.

“I know that I need help sometimes. You are right, I don’t ask for it enough, and I get defensive when people offer it. But if we’re going to do this—study, have sex, meet your parents, or your uncle—I need things to be open between us. No secrets, nothing omitted because you think I can’t handle it. We work as a team, we look out for each other.”

Ben nodded slowly.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” Ben said softly, a shadow momentarily passing over his face. “I understand.”

The silence between them was broken only by the occasional light tapping of hard raindrops against the car, only briefly obscuring their vision before Ben turned on the windshield wipers. Rey sighed and pulled out her phone to flip through her messages.

“So…” She said. “What are we going to say if they bring up your uncle?”

“Oh,” He replied, as though she’d reminded him that he’d left his sweaty socks on the kitchen counter. “They don’t know that we’re going to see him.”

She blinked, unsure of whether she’d heard him or if his confession even mattered. “What?” 

“I haven’t brought it up to them, and I don’t expect he has either.”

“Oh, really?” It seemed so strange. She’d briefly thought through some ways that she could deflect any Skywalker-related questions as they came up at dinner, but hadn’t even considered this possibility. “Why didn’t you tell them?”

He gave her a befuddled look. “Because it didn’t come up? I don’t know.”

“Yes, but they are your parents, and he is your uncle.” She considered, for a moment how this kind of discussion would have happened in her own household. She would’ve told Mum, of course, but there wasn’t anyone else.

He shrugged. “They’re divorced, and my mother spends most of the year working in Ottawa. Honestly I don’t think either of them remember what year of medical school we’re in.”

“Do either of them talk to him regularly?”

“No, they don’t.” He replied with a disquieting coldness.

Rey whistled quietly to herself. “Got it. So, it won’t come up tonight. No problem. And if they bring him up, I assume it’s best if I deny knowing him?”

“If you want,” He said curtly.

“Yeah,” She murmured exasperatedly, crossing her arms. After a few beats, she caught a glimpse of his knitted brow in the dashboard mirror and said, “Might I ask if anything happened between them? Your parents and uncle?”

“No,” He responded immediately. “Why?”

“I’m just curious.” And she was. Because she was beginning to build a tally in her mind. The afternoon that Ben had confided in her about his troubled history with his uncle. The way that he would hear his name and sometimes flinch, like she had as a child getting disciplined for a bad mark. The vagueness of his answers, his need to deflect. She had an old image of Dr. Skywalker in his mind, his eyes sparkling with warmth and empathy, his beard and combed hair a mix of light brown and grey, his charming old man laugh and his inhuman dedication to his patients. The image was a faded photograph, riddled with holes and tears, degrading with time. She wanted to see him again, perhaps less desperately than a few years ago, even a month ago, but the more time she spent trying to talk to Ben about him, the less she was sure of who this man really was.

“Nothing happened between them. I know you don’t have experience with this, but prying into family affairs isn’t just being curious. You are being nosy—” Again, his voice was rising and his hands were shifting along the curve of the steering wheel.

“I’m not trying to be invasive, you know that. I’ve met your Dad and your uncle, they were both lovely. I just want to understand what I’m getting into.”

“You spent twenty minutes with my father, and you were my uncle’s patient,” He chastised. “I get that you probably wish your parents were still around, but that does not make these people your family.”

That last sentence made Rey flinch like she’d been slapped in the face.

Ben closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

When she spoke, it was through gritted teeth. “It’s fine.”

But it stung a little, even if he didn’t mean anything by it. She’d never had that kind of relationship with a parental figure, one where she could be a grown-up and not announce every move that she was going to make.

“No, Rey,” He let out an apologetic sigh. “That was absolutely out of line. I apologize.”

She said nothing, but grimaced to herself as a new wave of soreness rose in her stomach.

“Yeah, you’re right,” She stared out the window, at the quickening pace of the cold raindrops and the foggy window. “I don’t know anything about your family drama or how you were raised beyond my own memories of my oncologist. I do, however, know that you are extremely uncomfortable talking about them, and you already offered to turn the car around. I don’t need to know everything, but I think I do have a right to some advanced warning if you are leading me into a pit of vipers.” She stole a glance at Ben, who seemed to have gone a shade more pale. “Do you understand where I am coming from?”

He met her eyes for a moment and nodded sincerely.

“So do you think I will feel comfortable having dinner with you and your divorced parents?”

It took a moment, but then he shook his head. “Yeah,” He said quietly. “My parents are good, easygoing people.” A pause, and when he resumed, there was the slightest crack. “They’re going to love you.”

She barely registered the words before she continued, her tone deliberately low and leading. “And is there anything else I need to know about your uncle before we see him?”

The pause that followed was long enough that it made a shiver go up her spine. As a shadow passed over Ben’s form, she could not make out any part of his body language that might betray his feelings.

“No.”

Han and Leia were already in Kelsey’s when they arrived, sitting at a booth right by the front windows, as though they’d picked it with the intention of watching for their son’s car.

They saw Han first, who seemed deep in conversation with a silver-haired woman, whose back was to them. He perked up immediately and grinned, waving them inside. Rey smiled to herself and gave a small wave back, but Ben did not seem to notice.

When they entered side by side, a young blonde waitress appeared with a wide grin, menus in hand. “Hi there, table for two?” She seemed to be focusing her gaze more on Rey.

Rey shrank back half an inch, and Ben spoke in her place.

“Sorry, not tonight, we’re meeting some people,” said Ben, pointing a thumb towards the window. The three of them turned in unison to see his mother offer a wave. Rey was struck, briefly, by how familiar she looked, but couldn’t place her. Was it just her resemblance to Luke? Ben had mentioned that they were fraternal twins. Though she did seem much shorter than she’d remembered Luke to be.

“Perfect, then right this way” said the waitress, leading them over.

Leia slid out from the booth as soon as they arrived, then climbed to her feet. She stood at least  She walked to Ben first, and without a moment’s hesitation, wrapped him in a tight embrace. Rey whistled to herself and awkwardly met Han’s eyes.

Eventually, she let go, and said “It’s so good to see you Ben.”

Then she heard Ben reply, with a tone that made him seem far younger than he was. “Good to see you, Mom.”

Suddenly, Leia turned to Rey, her eyes shining brightly behind her glasses. “You must be Rey.” Her voice was low and slightly raspy, but nevertheless warm and self-assured in a way that immediately made Rey’s shoulders relax.

Without another word, Leia immediately stepped forward and wrapped Rey in an embrace, causing her to let out a small wince. Gingerly, she reciprocated, while stealing a glance at Ben. He seemed unfazed, if not mildly amused at the sight.

“Alright,” said Leia when she let go. “You guys must be hungry, let’s get something to eat.”

Han and Leia both set the ground rules at the start—Rey and Ben were to order whatever they wanted, no limitations, no singular appetizers. They would be paying, no ifs, ands, or buts. Ben chose a roast chicken meal, Rey a veggie burger combo that she would never have been able to afford on her own.

“How’s your car doing Rey?” Han asked the moment the four of them were alone.

She shrugged awkwardly, swaying her head back and forth. “It’s still surviving, but honestly I’m not driving it like I used to.”

Han seemed surprised, but Ben answered for her—“We started carpooling.”

“That’s lovely,” said Leia. “Good for the environment, and you can spend time together before work.”

“Oh, it’s not that great—” Rey joked awkwardly, jutting a thumb Ben’s way. “This one wakes up at four am for the gym before picking me up. His car smells like the gym bag.”

“Ben, I taught you better than that—“ Leia chastised. “You really should be getting more sleep.”

He was flipping through his menu nonchalantly. “I’m not apologizing. And I do get seven hours a night.”

That was not true of the last few weeks, but Rey didn’t say a word.

She was pleasantly surprised to find that she had fairly easy banter with Ben’s parents. Both of them were far more talkative than her and Ben, but it was clear that his dry wit was a heritable trait. More than once, the four of them chuckled or snickered in unison in response to some comment made by one of the Solos.

Rey also noticed that every now and then, someone would pass by the table and seem to recognize Leia. More often than not it would be a Mom rearing several kids, who would steal a curious second or third glance at the table. They would stop and blink, as though rifling through memories of hazy pictures in their minds. Was she a celebrity? A distant cousin? Rey imagined them all pondering those exact differentials. She briefly thought about the stories she’d heard about celebrities in public, like when Robert Downey Jr. failed to win a Tony Stark lookalike contest. When faces were tied to static photographs or effects-driven movies, or political campaign posters, it was easy to forget that you could just meet those people in the real world.

A tall, tanned middle-aged woman with curly silver hair was bold enough to ask for a picture just as they were finishing their entrees. She knew exactly who Leia was, having seen her on CBC a couple of months prior, telling off the American president for something inflammatory he’d said about Canada’s military. Rey volunteered to take the picture, smiling to herself as she felt Ben lean over to take a peek at the picture of the two of them. The stranger stood a full head above Leia Organa, each with an arm around the other like they were old friends. After they finished taking a few pictures, they waved at the grinning woman, who went back to join a similarly aged woman at her own booth.

“So—” Leia said cheerily, turning back to Ben and Rey. “How is clerkship going? Are you both still working in pediatrics?”

Oh, ‘I don’t think either of them know what year we’re in.’ She tilted her head towards Ben, almost rolling her eyes. He had overreacted, his mother was clearly invested in his education.

Ben shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s alright, pediatrics is not my favourite but I’ll get through.” He paused for a moment, and Rey was surprised to feel him nudge her gently. “I think Rey’s the only reason I’m passing.”

If Han and Leia looked at her, she didn’t know. She lowered her gaze bashfully, immediately feeling her heart flutter.

“I’ll return the favour in November.”

At that, Rey lowered her gaze, smiled to herself and took another bite of her burger. November was when they were starting psychiatry.

God, what a delicious veggie burger. This was great. She had a nice meal, his parents were pleasant people, and no one was being weird about anything. Ben had probably just been nervous in the car. 

Then, Leia turned to Rey, her eyes sparkling under the warm light of the booth. “How about you, Rey? You’re enjoying pediatrics?”

It was going well so far, she supposed. She was still working on the general floor, and next week she would transition to neurology. It was certainly more light-hearted than surgery, arguably to the point of tediousness at certain times of the day. Most of the kids in general pediatrics weren’t career patients at all, just unlucky enough to have to stay in the hospital for the flu, asthma, or COVID. She was often just alone with the resident, and while Mae was soft-spoken and kind, she always seemed too engaged in her own note-taking to really show her the ropes. And Djarin was out of town for the week, so she wouldn’t be able to work with him until he returned.

“It’s good,” She said. “I really like it, I’m planning on doing it for my residency.”

“Oh—” said Leia. “Really, you want to do pediatrics? We should—” She nudged Han, who was still in engrossed in his own meal. In a brief moment, the pair seemed to have their own telepathic conversation.

“Mom—” Ben sounded like a teenager mid-eye roll.

Rey nodded uncertainly, her gaze lowering instinctively.

Han sighed. “Ben, don’t be like that, it’s been—”

Ben interrupted him immediately. “Dad can we just talk about something other than school tonight? It’s…it’s been a long week.”

Rey noted the way that Ben’s head tilted unsubtly in her direction. She wondered what he meant by this, as her week had been pretty unremarkable. She imagined that he was just telling a white lie, allowing his parents’ thoughts to fill in the gaps.

Leia’s expression immediately softened, confirming that she was probably correct in her assessment. “We hear you, I hear you, no more school talk—” She said, holding up a hand like fine, I’ll lay off. Then, she said to Rey with a quick wink, “Have Ben give you my phone number then. If you ever need anything for your applications, I can call a favour.”

Rey nodded, “Thank you,” She said in a small voice, before returning to her fries. She was thankful to Ben for recognizing where the line of questions might have gone and drawing a line…but then she let herself wonder, if for a brief moment, what the conversation might have looked like if it had been allowed to continue. 

Leia stayed true to her word, thankfully, and did not discuss medicine after that. The table found other topics, whether that be her recent political escapades, or Rey’s tentative plan to visit Halifax after graduation. Han gave a very passionate speech about the recent Love Island finale, he offered for Ben and Rey to dog-sit Chewie whenever they needed some love (which Rey immediately decided that she was going to take him up on soon). Rey couldn’t help but giggle bemusedly when they told her about Ben’s favourite teenage extracurricular activities; swing dancing, acting, and a brief stint with fencing.

“Ben had some real acting chops,” Han said proudly, pointing a fork at his son. “I swear, if he hadn’t gone to medical school he’d have an Oscar by now.”

They asked Rey if she had ever gotten into Shakespeare. She paused, then closed her eyes and found herself uncertainly reciting the first half of Juliet’s famous monologue. It had been an assignment that she’d completed over Skype to her teacher. It was far from the most interesting monologue, but Leia and Han gave her a mini round of applause. She met Ben’s eyes as he raised a brow, and the way that the corner of his lip curled up as he joined his parents’ quiet clapping? It was priceless.

More often than not, she found herself sneaking glances at Han and Leia across the table. The way that they would look at each other warmly, or how they seemed to in sync with their comments, even finishing each other’s sentences. Rey found herself wondering, though she didn’t dare ask, what might’ve led to their divorce. She’d only ever watched separations happen from a middle distance as a child, and all of them ended in pain and bitterness. Had these two worked out their issues and found a happy middle ground? Did distance, or absence, make the heart grow fonder? Or was this dinner simply a performance for their son’s sake?

Ben, for his part, seemed to calm down and find more smiles as their dinner went on. When he rolled his eyes at one of Han’s Dad jokes and gave Rey a look like see what I have to deal with? Rey found herself smirking in response. She decided that everyone at the table was being sincere.

And for a moment, she found herself imagining another version of this dinner. A parallel timeline, just the shape of it but solid and clear. Her and Mum, with Ben and his parents, chatting like adults and enjoying each other’s company.

Her heart thumped in her chest, and she scarfed down a few extra fries to stifle the feeling, nearly choking on them in the process. She hunched her shoulders and coughed as demurely as she could, then stopped, suddenly feeling a thump thump on her back.

Rey raised an eyebrow at Ben, who nodded assuringly before returning to his own food.

“Are you alright there?” Han asked.

Rey’s lips tightened into a smile, and she gave him a thumbs up. “Just—” She gestured to her throat. “They’re really good fries.”

“That they are,” he mused, holding up one of his own to display. “Now, I have to ask, you’re calling them fries, but in England they call them chips, right?”

Rey waved a hand dismissively. “We do, but I—I moved here when I was really young. Never lost the accent, but I still call Canadian things the Canadian way.”

“Good,” He said with complete sincerity. “I’m sure there are some Loyalists who would disagree, but I happen to believe that the Canadian way is the only way.”

Rey pursed her lips and managed a coy smile. “Can’t argue with that.”

Without skipping a beat, Han shrugged and picked up the small menu at the edge of the table. “We’re staying for dessert, right?”

“Yes,” Ben and Leia said in unison, nodding at the small menu in his hands.

Rey suddenly tensed and lowered her arm, just as a small wave of pain began to seize at her abdomen. Fuck. Could she have dessert with pain like this?

Yeah, yeah she could. She just needed to deal with this immediately.

She took a breath, then took hold of her bag and leaned over to whisper to Ben, “I have to run to the bathroom. Can you let me out?”

“Yeah, of course,” He said before sliding smoothly out of the booth to let her go.

“Thanks,” She murmured, grimacing as she slid out beside him. She began pacing in the direction of the bathroom before hearing Han call out, “Hey Rey.”

Instantly, she turned on one heel and returned to the table. “Yeah?”

He held up a menu. “If the waiter gets back here before you, what do you want?”

Rey glanced down at the menu and wiggled her finger around in the air, hesitating briefly before landing on the lava cake.

“This one,” She said. “And ask for vanilla ice cream, please.” She smiled at Han, just before bolting to the washroom in a daze of pain.

While she was on the toilet, Rey found herself having to take several deep breaths to stop herself from breaking down. Her heart was pounding—it shouldn’t, everything was going well—and she had to take several deep, controlled breaths to force it back down. When it finally did, she the ache settled itself in her lower abdomen, which persisted for several minutes even after she finished. Just like back in the car, it was mild, perhaps only a three or four, but it was getting worse. Fuck, she should’ve taken her Advil in the car. It always worked best just as the pain was beginning to build.

After washing her hands, Rey found the bottle of tablets in her purse and immediately downed two, then lowered her head and cupped her hands to collect some water to wash them down. She swallowed back the lump and raised her head, then nearly choked at the sight of Leia Organa opening the door.

“Hey Rey,” She mused, her smile buttery warm.

Rey turned and plastered on a smile in reply. “Hi—erm—Leia,” She stuttered. Without quite knowing what to do, she pointed at the closed stalls. “Do you—want to—”

Leia shook her head. “I just want to wash my hands before dessert,” She said plainly, moving to the sink to her left. “How are you doing?”

Rey hesitated, curious at what she was referring to. Then, her eyes fell upon the Advil bottle, still sitting on the ledge, and frantically put it back into her purse. “I’m alright,” She said. “It’s just—” A single-shouldered shrug, failing to be casual. “It’s just that time of the month.”

Leia met her eyes, the corner of her lip twitched, then she turned on the water. “No problem at all. How ‘bout dinner, have you been having a good time?”

Rey nodded and turned the water back on, mimicking Leia’s hand-washing. “Yeah, it’s been great. Thank you so much for inviting me.”

“Oh well, don’t thank me.” She said with a good-natured smile into the mirror. “As I understand it, Han was the one who invited you.”

“Well, you’ve both been…quite hospitable.”

“It’s a Kelsey’s dear,” She mused, turning off her sink. “It’s a very easy place to be ‘hospitable.’” 

Rey shrugged good-naturedly in agreement.

“So—” Leia continued. “How did you and Ben—” She nudged her head side to side, as if working through the options of what she wanted to call the pair. “Well, become so close.”

“Oh, erm—we got paired up for our surgery rotation a couple of months ago—” She mumbled lamely, scratching at the back of her neck. “And like—studying and such. You know.” A small, nervous giggle escaped from the back of her throat.

Leia raised an eyebrow. “I see. Studying, was it?”

Rey swallowed. “Yep.”

Ben’s mother regarded her for a long moment, seeming as if she was going to say something, before she turned around to grab a paper towel. “Did the two of you spend much time together before this semester?”

Rey tensed, unsure of what exactly she was getting at. “Not really. Why do you ask?”

Leia spoke casually, seemingly floating across the space between them to get to the garbage can. “Ben never really had many female friends growing up,” She mused. “But I do remember a couple of years ago, he mentioned to his father something about a girl in his class…” She shook her head, seemingly filing through her memories. “He didn’t tell either of us much about her, but I got the sense that the two of them really hated each other.”

“Ah,” She said flatly, feigning ignorance. “How about that.”

“Indeed,” said Leia knowingly, lifting her chin to meet Rey’s eyes. Although she was quite a bit shorter than Rey, she carried the authoritative attitude of someone twice her size. Perhaps that was why she kept getting elected. “My son’s always had a problem holding grudges, I think he gets that from my side of the family. Would you happen to know how things are going with this girl?”

Rey cracked a bashful smile and went to grab some paper towels. “No clue.”

“Really?” Leia crossed her arms and shifted her pose.

Rey pursed her lips, but said nothing.

She held a hand up as if to signal whatever you say, honey. “I was just curious.”

“What did he tell him about this girl?”

Leia shrugged. “He said that she abhorred his entire existence, they couldn’t be in the same room without her looking like she wanted him dead. Apparently classmates used to steer clear of them in the halls while they argued about exam questions.”

Rey raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah,” She said with a slightly mischievous smile. “He said that she was so stubborn and impatient that it made him want to pull his hair out. And he also said that she was fiercely outspoken, wicked smart, and an unbelievably hard worker.”

Rey blinked. “He told you guys all of these things?”

“In his…own little way,” Leia replied bemusedly.

“This girl sounds like a real piece of work,” Rey said in a quiet voice, feeling a twinge of shame at the way that she’d behaved towards him. How many other people in her circles would describe her the same way?

“Ah,” Leia shook her head and crossed her arms. “I think it was just the first time that any woman had taken him down a peg. Besides, I’m a politician, I’ve been called far worse for simply opening my mouth.”

Rey put her hand to her mouth to stifle a chuckle. “Is it a bad time to say that I voted for you in the last election?”

Leia closed her eyes and put a hand to her heart. “And I do so appreciate your support.”

The women laughed in unison for a moment, then broke off when a stranger came in and quietly found a stall behind them. Rey’s gaze wandered towards the door as it swung closed. They should start heading back sooner rather than later.

“Ben’s father and I used to trade jabs like that,” She said suddenly. “Before we got together, we used to complain incessantly about each other’s behaviour. Well—” She stopped, then chuckled to herself. “Mostly to my brother.”

Rey opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out. And for a moment, Leia’s eyes sparkled, as though she were lost in a memory. Again she wondered what exactly happened to Ben’s parents that would have led to their separation. She spoke of them with a true fondness in her tone, reminiscing about the best years of her life.

“I think you’re good for Ben,” Leia said, much more softly. Her eyes bore into Rey’s, warm brown and holding years of wisdom and love. “He has a glow about him today. It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen him like that.”

Something stung in the back of her throat. And her eyes. “We’re just—just friends.”

“Yeah yeah, friends.” She waved dismissively and rolled her eyes. “I won’t say anything until you’re ready, don’t worry.”

Yes ma’am. Rey nodded quickly, hoping that she could discern her thoughts.

Leia smiled warmly and gently took ahold of her hands. “I know that we don’t know each other very well,” She began. “But you seem like a lovely young woman.”

For the briefest of moments, her head tilted, and her eyes seemed to fall just below Rey’s, aiming as low as her collarbone.

Rey followed the path of her gaze, realizing that she was looking in the direction of her port scar, which was only barely sticking out from her blouse. Each of their gazes snapped up, and Rey drew in a small, sharp breath and smiled, even though she felt that she was wavering. Her eyes were stinging. She didn’t—she couldn’t let them water.

Leia’s brow furrowed ever so slightly, and her smile barely faltered. “I know your family must be incredibly proud of you,” She said.

Rey felt a stab of pain in her chest, but she remained still as a statue.

“And Rey—” Leia continued, tightening her grip ever-so-slightly. “This journey is by no means an easy one, though, alright? Just…take care of each other, okay?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“Okay,” She breathed, then let go and gestured towards the door. “I’ll see you back at the table. Just—” She pointed quickly to the area under her right eye.

Immediately, Rey raised a hand to the spot on her own face, and felt a small drop of water. She sprinted to the window and blinked hard, her vision momentarily blurred. The new guest did not speak to her when they went to the sink beside her, but did steal a glance while Rey frantically attempted to blot away the blooming tears without ruining her makeup.

To her surprise, when she turned back, Leia was still at the door, watching her. She gave a small nod and began to close the door, but before Rey could think, she was reaching her arm and calling out to her—

“Leia—“

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you one more thing? And—like, can it stay between us?”

She nodded, her brow furrowing with concern.

Rey drew in a sharp breath, then closed her eyes briefly, steadying herself. “Ben told me that he used to shadow his uncle.”

“He did, they actually worked in pediatric oncology at Coruscant.”

Rey nodded. She hoped that Leia would assume that this information was new to her.

“Did something…happen between them?”

Leia blinked. “What do you mean?”

“He mentioned once that he had some…conflict with an attending. Was it something to do with your brother?”

Rey knew that they’d had an argument. The knowledge was slowly spreading, a stain on her image of him that she couldn’t quite identify. But it was bothering her, and maybe Leia could assuage her fears. She had offered to connect them, hadn’t she?

Leia’s expression was initially inscrutable, but slowly it settled into something else…a sad, distant smile.

“It’s complicated,” She said quietly. “Honestly, I don’t even know all of the details myself. I think it’d be best to ask Ben.” Without another word, she ambled out the door, leaving Rey immobilized.

She returned to the table soon after Leia, knowing that her eyes still probably looked red and glassy, but hoping that no one would notice.

Nevertheless, as soon as she sat down, she noticed Ben catching a glimpse of her. She tried to avert her gaze and focus on the cake, but he leaned in and asked, in a low enough voice that only she could hear, “Everything okay?”

Rey’s jaw clenched. She sniffled and turned to meet his eyes, sparkling in the low light, and nodded. 

She felt the remainder of the night go by in a haze. Something was ringing in her ears, and though it did not cause pain and had no discernible cause, it did bother her. Distantly, she heard the voices of Ben and his parents, joking and debating and commenting on how delicious the cakes and crumbles were.

How about your parents?

The ringing in her ears was louder, broken only by the sound of her fork hitting the side of her plate. She blinked, then suddenly looked up, her vision suddenly hazy.

“How about your parents Rey?”

Rey blinked and caught a glimpse of Han across the small table.

“I—” Her tongue felt like a warm heavy balloon, she couldn’t move it. “Uh, they’re—” She stopped herself, then swallowed back the cake in her mouth. “It’s just me.” The corner of her mouth twitched up unconvincingly.

Leia definitely heard her, but her face was as inscrutable as it had been in the bathroom. Han seemed that he was going to say something, but then pursed his lips and nodded. Perhaps they thought that she meant that she had gone no contact with them. It was probably easier to deal with than the reality of her being an orphan.

The lights above them were being dimmed in conjunction with the blackening sky outside. Rey was thankful for the lower lights, and thankful that she still had enough dessert left to keep her occupied. Ben stepped in and spoke to his parents about the remainder of their pediatrics rotations, and their later psychiatry stints. Rey enjoyed the decadent warmth of the chocolate sauce and tried to think of little else. His parents began asking if he’d seen some of the pediatricians. Was Dr. Tano still there? How about Dr. Djarin?

“Did Rey get to meet Luke?” Leia suddenly asked Ben.

Rey’s eyes widened as she met Ben’s eyes. I’m sorry I’m sorry it just came out how do we play this?

Please kill me now. Ben seemed to reply.

“No, I don’t think so?” Rey said. Without another thought, she tilted her head towards Ben.

In that moment, his eyes widened slightly. Maybe he was shocked at how easily she’d lied.

“He’s my brother,” She replied, tilting her head slightly. “Dr. Luke Skywalker. Did he ever come by the hospital or your medical school, even just to give a talk?”

Ben and Rey shook their heads in unison.

Leia’s gaze seemed to linger, not on Ben, but on Rey for a breath too long. Rey stiffened, then averted her eyes and pretended to shift in her seat.

“Hmm,” said Leia plainly, returning to her own dessert. “That’s a shame.”

No one else brought up Dr. Luke Skywalker, though to Rey, it felt that his name was hanging in the air between the four of them like a cloud of black smoke.

Leia, thankfully, was the one to decide that their evening had run its course. She didn’t specify where she was going after dinner, but when Han jokingly suggested that the four of them go grab something to drink at the little pub close to his auto shop, she waved him away good-naturedly and said, “Let’s let them go for the night, I’m sure they need to study.”

Rey could’ve sworn that she saw the corner of her mouth quirk up.

The hugs that followed from Leia and Han were so solid and warm that they broke the chill that Rey was feeling in the brisk night air. Han, even in his age, was firm in his gestures of affection with Ben and Rey, even if the moment itself was short. When he pulled back, he tapped each of them on the shoulder and smiled fondly, exchanging a glance with them both. “Good to see you kids.” He pointed at Rey and grinned. “And you, if you ever have more car trouble, give me a call.”

That was a quintessential Dad hug and goodbye, she imagined. It was strange for her to admit to herself that she had no memory of ever experiencing such a thing. Was this style of embrace typical for all of them? Did their sneezes all sound like bombs too?

Leia’s hug, in contrast, was soft and warm. Her arms enveloped her like a thick wool blanket, shielding her from the brisk evening air. She was a full head shorter than Rey, but when she closed her eyes and rested her shoulder, she felt like she was in another place, another time. And when she let out a small shiver, Leia’s embrace only tightened.

“It was so, so nice to finally meet you, Rey,” She said when they separated, taking both of her hands in her own. With a final, emphatic shake, she looked to both her and Ben, and said “We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

Rey was barely processing the people around her. She was in another world, another plane, holding this woman’s hands.

“Thanks for dinner Mom,” He said with a voice that sounded far too small and distant. Rey heard him turn to Han, “See you around, Dad,” He said.

Leia gave Rey a final nod before letting her go.

As soon as the two of them began walking back to the car, Rey felt the shiver return to her spine. Something flashed in her mind, wild dirty-blonde hair, a warm hand in hers. Rey shut her eyes and sniffled softly, rubbing at her nose before shoving her hand into her pocket.

Ben seemed to sense that something was awry, because he was next to her in moments, rubbing his hand across her back to warm her up.

“Hey,” He leaned in and whispered concernedly, “Everything okay?”

She let out a small gasp and met his eyes, realizing that they were beginning to water. With a small blink and bite of her lip, she held her breath and quickened her pace so that they could get into the car.

Ben seemed shocked, even a little scared when he climbed into the driver’s seat. “Rey, I—I hope that wasn’t too much. Did either of them make you uncomfortable?”

Rey quickly held up a hand and wiped away the tears with her other finger. “Oh no, I had a great time,” She sucked in a sharp breath, desperately trying to will the tears away, salvage the little wall protecting her emotions, however weak its foundations had become. “I think being with your parents brought back some…memories, I suppose.” She sniffled quietly and closed her eyes, for a moment, trying to conjure up faces that were becoming increasingly hazy and shadow-filled with each passing year. “I…erm—I never actually told you anything about my family, did I?”

“No, not really,” He admitted. “But, in all fairness, I never asked.”

She let out a nervous chuckle. “I guess, yeah,” She said, turning her gaze to her thumbs, which she was twiddling away in her lap. “I…never really knew my Dad. My parents had me when they were young, and whatever they had didn’t last long. All I knew was that he came from some posh family and they really didn’t want to deal with an immigrant girlfriend and a child out of wedlock. So they gave Mum some hush money and left, and she moved us around London, and then to Canada.”

“Sounds like a real piece of shit,” Ben said flatly.

Rey laughed grimly. “Yeah, I’m sure he is.”

“So it was always just you and her?”

“Yep,” She pursed her lips, still staring at her hands. “When you were, you know, working with…” For a moment, the name died on her tongue. Even after all this time, she still wasn’t sure what to call him. “..Skywalker,” She finally said awkwardly, glancing at Ben from over her shoulder. “Did you ever meet my mother?”

He blinked, then appeared to take a moment to stare off into space, as if to parse his memories and pull out the appropriate images. “Maybe…” He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. “I didn’t meet her personally, no. But I think I was told to stand outside the office during a couple of your meetings with…Skywalker.” He said the name slowly, uncertainly, like he was failing to match her dance steps. “She had dark blonde hair, right? I remember thinking that she had a funny accent, a mix of British and…Slavic?”

Rey smiled to herself at the mention. She imagined, for a moment, the sound of Mum’s voice. Her whispers, her tears, and her warm, rich laughter. The sound came through muffled, entrapped in the deepest recesses of her psyche, but it made her long for her all the same.

“What happened to her?” Ben asked hesitantly.

Rey glanced at him, then “She…she passed away, not long after I started university.”

This was usually the part where people asked the big question. She had always hated that moment, however inevitable, when she would end up awkwardly relaying an abridged version of the how of it to someone who barely knew her. 

But with Ben? She wasn’t sure if she had an issue with him asking.

But as the seconds ticked on, the silence between them only became more awkward. Ben and Rey seemed to realize that someone would need to break the silence, and when they exchanged a glance, Ben decided to bite.

“How did it happen?”

“…She got cancer.”

He paused, and then asked a question that she never would have expected. “How long was she in treatment for?”

Rey winced slightly at the memory of the medications, the seizures and brain fog, the painful and pointless MAID and hospice discussions, the transfusions, Mum’s face blowing up from the steroids, and the chemo that didn’t take that she kept stubbornly insisting on pursuing. A mother’s hand, chalk-white skin and bones, clutching her daughter’s for dear life, terrified of facing the thing that she had spent years prepared to bear witness to.

She shut her eyes for a moment and willed the flash to cease. “A few months,” She said. “It was pretty quick.”

Saying it out loud made her stomach drop like a rock, and for a moment all she could do was pray that he wouldn’t say that fucking word sorry. And maybe there was a God, because after briefly turning towards her, he nodded, said a quiet “Ah,” then returned to the dashboard and let out a long exhale, staring pensively at the road. She could’ve sworn that he murmured fuck while reaching to turn on the car’s internal heater.

Finally, he said “So you’ve been living on your own since you were—what, eighteen?”

Rey swallowed and lowered her head, curling her chin into her chest to make herself smaller. “Yeah.”

“Do you have any other family here on your mother’s side?”

She shook her head.

“Anyone in Serbia?” A polite question, but he must’ve already figured out the answer.

Rey shook her head emphatically. Mum had been no-contact with Rey’s father for years, and all Rey had to show for was a phase in high school when she tried to cyber-stalk him in a desperate bid to connect before her time ran out. That little adventure ended when she found out that he was married with twin boys on the way, all while lying bald and cachectic in her bed with yet another infusion running through her veins.

Mum had been an only child herself and had lost her parents when she was a teenager. She’d travelled from the Serbian countryside to the UK as an eighteen year old with her rudimentary English, and never looked back. Did she have any cousins? Probably, but it was unlikely that they’d spoken in decades. Maybe they didn’t know that Teodora had ever existed. They certainly wouldn’t know who Rey was.

There were admittedly some people in her old life who might’ve considered Teodora ‘family.’ But church had never been that kind of environment to her, so it wasn’t worth bringing up.

It had always just been the two of them.

And now it had been six years and nearly eleven months of Rey being on her own. That little apartment, still under her name, that she wasn’t ready to give up. That old car that wouldn’t make it to the end of medical school, no matter how much she wished it would live forever. Days and weeks and months of emptiness and silence. And those boxes of relics tucked away in darkness, collecting dust and mould while any meaningful traces of her life faded away.

Rey let out a small sniffle, and Ben’s hand instinctively lifted and opened. Rey took his hand gratefully, and lowered it so that she could enjoy the feel of his rough skin. Closing her eyes, she squeezed it tight.

“I miss her,” She finally said, her voice revealing a subtle crack. “I miss her a lot, and I don’t think I say it enough.”

There was a long pause between the two of them where the only sounds were infrequent raindrops and speeding cars.

“I don’t know if it’s appropriate for me to give my two cents here,” said Ben in a low voice. “But I’d say it’s quite healthy for you to talk about it...”

A beat passed between them, and Rey wondered what he was getting at.

“Have you ever spoken to a therapist about this stuff?”

Rey grimaced and leaned her head against the window, wrapping her arms around herself. “I got some counselling after Mum died, but I haven’t been seeing anyone at Chandrila.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, we have a tight schedule. And the counsellors can only see non-suicidal students once a month, it’s just pointless.”

“So…no. The answer is no.”

Rey sighed.

“That’s fine, but I would recommend getting one sooner rather than later. I think you’d benefit.” A pause. “I did.”

“I get it,” said Rey, knowing that it sounded dismissive but deciding in that instant that she didn’t care.

Ben let out a small sigh. “That wasn’t a dig, I would genuinely recommend therapy to anyone.”

“I get it.” She snapped.

“Rey—”

She was going to say something, but stopped herself mid-thought, realizing that she was doing it again. Rejecting a genuine offer of help. So, she quietly said, “I should probably get someone, yeah. I’ll have a look around.”

If Ben was satisfied, he didn’t show it well. He simply nodded and made a turn.

“Can I take you somewhere tonight?” 

Rey straightened, tilting her head out of curiosity. “Dare I ask where?”

“Are you okay to let it be a surprise?”

“I dunno,” She teased. “Anytime a girl hears that a boy wants to take her to a secret place, she has to consider the possibility that he might be an axe murderer.”

He rolled his eyes at that, feigning offence. “I cannot believe you would think so little of me.”

She nudged him playfully, “Well, I’ve seen Fresh. For all I know this whole relationship is a long con and you’re taking me to a fancy cabin to drug me and chop me up into a million pieces for your cannibal clients.”

“Okay, first, I do not know this ‘Fresh,’” He accentuated the word with air quotes, “—And second, the spot is outdoors.”

Rey let out a loud, theatrical sigh. “Fine,” She said, immediately feeling more at ease. “You pick the spot, but I get to tell you about the movie on the way.”

“Deal.” Even with his deadpan tone, his dimples exposed his delight at the prospect.

Chapter Text

“So the guy’s wife was in on it too?” Ben looked positively horrified in the driver’s seat as he pulled to a stop.

“Mhmmhm,” Rey nodded, satisfied at his expression. She glanced out the window, only to see that they were at the entrance of a forested path. 

She raised an eyebrow suspiciously at Ben. “Where exactly are we?”

He rolled his eyes sarcastically and clicked his door open. “For the fiftieth time, it’s a surprise.”

Rey smiled playfully and stepped out of the car with him. She stood alone for a short while, staring at the path before her. A cool breeze was wafting through the trees, making the leaves rustle and dance in the darkness. And beyond them, the entrance to the forested path loomed over like a dark gaping maw, narrow and tall, a void with a destination that she did not know.

A sick thought crossed her mind, that maybe he was trying to kill her, but she was immediately jolted back to reality by the sounds of the trunk slamming shut and the car locking.

Ben appeared beside her, with a pack slung over one shoulder, a tightly wrapped blanket, and a large flashlight.

Wordlessly, he offered her the blanket, which she accepted hesitantly.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You still won’t tell me where we are?”

Ben clicked the flashlight on in response and pointed it towards the maw. He pursed his lips into a tight smile and nodded towards the path in response. “Let’s go, sweetheart.”

The path through the forest was winding and mildly perilous. Rey found herself having to pause or hop every ten steps or so. She had gone camping before with her friends without trouble, and as a young child she had played in forests near her home, though only in the summer. But she’d spent so much of her life cooped up in hospitals or study halls that she’d long convinced herself that she’d lost her propensity for adventure. Especially in the dead of night, when the only sounds were the crackling of dead leaves under their feet, or the scampering of rodents and some clicking that she couldn’t identify. For Christ’s sake, it was October. They’d had snow barely a week ago. The animals should have all been hibernating by this point.

Ben remained in lockstep with her, but he navigated the space with considerable ease by comparison. He was barely looking at his feet, and moving with a fluidity that continuously appeared incompatible with his size. Occasionally, when they reached a step, he would climb down first, before offering a hand to Rey to jump down and join him.

It took several minutes before she felt like she could breathe, but once that happened, she began to find a spring in her step. Her eyes adjusted to the flashlight and darkness around them, and the feel of the leaves beneath her stopped feeling foreign. At some point, she began to realize that they were moving down, into a valley, and the leaves were beginning to disappear. In their place, there were numerous rock formations, flat platforms and cool to the touch.

Then she heard the rushing.

She knew right away what it must’ve been coming from.

Moments later, Ben held out his arm to stop her, then carefully stepped forward and pushed a canopy out of the way.

He turned off his flashlight, cocked his head towards Rey, and said, “We’re here.”

Rey stepped through the canopy and felt most stone under her feet. Ben followed just behind, placing his hand on the small of her back.

She looked up and gasped. Before them was a towering waterfall, easily fifteen metres tall and rushing softly into a pristine pool lined with grey stones and leaves all around. In the pool, Rey spotted flecks of light dancing in the water, and when she looked up she could see where they were coming from.

Stars. So many stars across the black sky that when she focused, she could even make out the outline of the Milky Way. It was so strange to admit it, but she hadn’t been out of the city at this time of night for so long, she had almost forgotten what a clear sky looked like. It was endless, sparkling, inviting.

Rey breathed deeply as she felt Ben’s hand slowly drift away. The air here was cool, clear, lacking the smoke-filled heaviness of the cities she’d grown up around, or the pungent antiseptic feeling of the hospital interior. This was just true, natural air.

Air. Sky. Stars. It felt so silly to admit to herself that her heart felt so full, just having access to these things.

“It’s so beautiful Ben,” She began to say, then turned and blinked. He was no longer with her.

“Ben?” She turned again, then stopped, and saw him, several metres away, spreading out the red and black blanket that she’d been carrying. He didn’t say a word, but focused on smoothing out the fabric.

With some hesitation, she walked over to him, and stopped abruptly when he knelt down, reached into his bag, and pulled out three things. A bag of barbecue Ruffles, another large bag of popcorn, a champagne bottle, and two (hopefully plastic) flutes.

Rey flushed and knelt on the blanket next to him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting us some refreshments,” He said, holding up the bottle like it wasn’t already obvious. “There’s water in the bag too, if you would prefer.”

She crossed her arms and eyed him curiously. “Why champagne?”

“Does a man need a reason to buy a drink for a special occasion?”

“He does when it looks very much like this was planned.”

He shrugged, as if to say well, you got me there.

Rey glared at him  so intensely that he finally had to relent.

In a low voice, he said, “It’s my birthday.”

“Your birthday?!”

He shrugged and took hold of the flutes between his fingers. Without hesitation, he filled them both with champagne. “It was a few days ago, you couldn’t have known.”

“I—” Rey flushed with embarrassment. They’d been shagging and sharing their intimate secrets, and she hadn’t known that his birthday had just passed. She’d never even thought to ask.

She fiddled with the hem of her top. “I should—I should have gotten you a gift or something.”

“Call this a gift to myself,” He said lazily, hanging her a flute. “I just wanted to spend some time together. If you are still set on getting me something, there’s no rush.”

“Well—” She stuttered. Damn him. Damn his eternal patience. “What do you want?”

“He considered for a moment, then nodded to the waterfall. “Draw me something like this. Give me something that makes you happy.” And with a smile, he clinked their glasses together and took a sip, before laying back on one elbow with a sigh.

Rey sipped at her own champagne and stared at the waterfall alongside him.

Hamilton was well-known across Canada for its abundance of waterfalls. There were well over a hundred tucked around the various parts of the city. Felker’s, Tiffany, Webster, the ‘Devil’s punchbowl.’ They were one of those things that tourists would see—including her classmates from outside of Southern Ontario—but locals didn’t necessarily bother with unless they were outdoorsy people. Much like how most native Torontonians she’d met had never bothered to go up to the top of the CN tower.

Mum had taken her to Webster once when they’d just moved to town. She barely remembered that day, just that she’d found it pretty and might’ve tried to climb over the edge in a burst of childish mania.

 She took a larger gulp of her champagne, and shook her head as the bubbles stung at the back of her throat. This is actually pretty good, she thought. Had he really gone out to buy an expensive bottle of champagne just to drink with her by a waterfall?

“D’you know what this one’s called?” She asked, pointing to the rushing water and soft white mist that curled from the base like tendrils.

“No clue,” said Ben. “I’m sure it’s on record somewhere, but I never bothered looking it up. Mom brought me here when I was a kid, and I still like to stop by every now and again just to think. Lucky for me, it’s not very popular among hikers, especially at this time of the year.”

“Ah, now there’s the romantic comedy trope,” said Rey jokingly. She took another sip and turned to Ben with a stupid grin, hoping that he would get it.

Ben cocked his head, looking incredulous.  He took a sip of his champagne, his eyes never leaving hers.

Rey was compelled to answer. “Come on, Ben, you don’t know that trope? The male love interest brings the girl to a special location and claims that she’s the only girl he’s ever brought there?”

“What movies are you talking about?”

She held up a finger, “High School Musical 3, ermm…” She stopped, realizing suddenly that she didn’t know of many other movies. “…Fresh…” She trailed off.

“The movie about the cannibal plastic surgeon who kidnapped young women and tore them limb from limb?”

Rey lowered her hand. “I guess I don’t know many examples.”

She heard his laugh, low and gentle in the darkness, and felt her chest grow warm.

“I didn’t watch High School Musical,” He admitted.

“Really?” She asked, clutching her chest in mock offence.

“I was too old when those movies were new.”

“I’ll have you know, those movies are timeless. We have to add it to the list for movie night.”

“It’s already a mile long,” Ben drawled, lifting his flute to his lips.

“Doesn’t matter,” said Rey, “We’re adding it.”

They continued for some time, back and forth, talking about everything and nothing, until before they knew it they had finished half the bottle and most of the crisps.

Rey was beginning to feel a little light-headed, but she felt that she was pacing herself appropriately. Ben still appeared to her stone-cold sober, though she wondered if she had ever seen him truly drunk.

She eyed him as he reached into the bag to pull out two water bottles. “Do you feel safe enough to drive?”

He nodded assuredly. “Oh yeah, it’s only—” He stopped and checked his watch. “Eight-thirty. “Give me an hour and I’ll be good to go.”

She wouldn’t have trusted anyone else to make such a bold statement about their driving abilities, but she trusted him. He’d come prepared after all for their little improptu night picnic.

Rey suddenly felt a shiver pass through her, and sneezed involuntarily. She hadn’t even been thinking about the temperature, and up until that point the champagne and her own heart had been enough to compensate for the air.

Without a word, Ben reached into the bag, procured another blanket, and gently wrapped it around her shoulders. It was old and scratchy, but perfectly warm, and when she breathed deeply she smelled him on it.

“Thanks,” She murmured sleepily.

“Still cold?” Ben asked, with a bit of concern.

Rey shook her head, but moments later he was sitting next to her again. She held out one arm to wrap him in the blanket. Of course, shared between the two of them, it barely touched his far shoulder, so Rey took the opportunity to nuzzle in close and rest her head on his shoulder. She relaxed into his body and let his free hand roam until it rested on top of her thigh, making the smallest gasp escape her.

“You’re such a romantic, Ben Solo,” She murmured lazily into his neck.

He chuckled softly and kissed her on the forehead. “That’s…actually what I wanted to ask you,” He said.

Rey jerked up, surprised at his mention of it. Her heart began to race involuntarily. “Ben?”

He paused, glanced at her, looked away, his expression shifting as though he was unsure, or even afraid to ask.

Rey knew what he wanted to say.

Finally, he met her gaze. “Do you want to just do it? Make it official?”

A month ago, she would’ve been horrified to hear him ask the question. This time? She wanted to jump from excitement. So many years of wasted hostility, only for them to settle things out and become an official couple. Her twenty two year old self could never fathom this outcome, and that epiphany that she wanted it made this moment all the more joyful. “You mean…?”

He smiled gently, boyishly even, and nodded. “Will you, Teodora—Rey—Mitrovic-Johnson, be my girlfriend? Partner, whatever you want to call this—”

She was silent for a little while, so long that Ben’s eyes went wide with uncertainty. Then, she threw her head back and laughed, perhaps a little too hysterically.

“Rey?”

She stopped, turned to Ben, took hold of his face in her hands, brushed her thumb under his eye, and kissed him deeply and passionately.

“Yes, yes of course—” She said between kisses. Ben melted into her immediately, wrapping a hand around her neck to steady her, but even that wasn’t enough to stop him from lowering onto his back, with Rey on top.

When Rey pulled away, they each took a moment to exhale before she asked, “And will you, Ben Solo, be my boyfriend, partner, et cetera?”

Ben smiled wide and immediately kissed her, before pulling back and breathing, “Of course,” He said, wrapping both hands around her waist. He kissed the side of her neck and growled, triggering a full body shiver that made her pull him in closer. “I’m all yours, sweetheart.”

***

Radiant. Ben often felt his brain shrink in times of stress and passion; tunnel vision where he lost all of his normal faculties and vocabulary, because he was so focused on that one thing. That was something of a universal experience, especially amongst medical professionals, but he hadn’t quite understood it until he’d been with her.

He didn’t have many words to describe Rey when they were together. The way that her eyes sparkled like emeralds, the lilt in her voice when she grew excited, and the warmth of her body, smooth and rough, scarred and so beautiful.

Radiant.

Like the sun.

She breathed deeply, lying on top of him but staring at the water. It was still running at near-total capacity, even at this time of year, but muted enough that they could both hear each other and camouflage themselves from the outside world.

They spent quite a bit of time together sobering up, embracing, kissing, feeling the interior of each other’s tops and pants, cool palms on warm skin, shivers of pleasure and shock.

Suddenly, Rey let out another laugh, but it worried him that it was so humourless, regretful even. “I can’t believe I wasted all that time…”

“Hating me?” He offered a comforting smile.

She was blushing. So fucking cute. “I—”

“Loathing? Wanting to burn a hole in my skull—”

Rey shook her head, “I never hated you—” She protested, suddenly digging her head into his chest

Ben stopped, then took a long sigh and began softly caressing her hair, all-too-aware of how fast his heart was racing. He was doing it again, just letting self-deprecating thoughts pour out of his mouth when he got nervous. It was something that he was trying to work through in therapy. But Rey seemed genuinely offended, so he dropped it immediately.

Slowly, Rey took a deep breath and lifted her head, resting her chin on him before she continued, “I guess I got too caught up in the shame of wanting you. I don’t think I even realized that’s what I was feeling until…” She trailed off uncertainly.

Ben chuckled softly and held her cheek in his chest. She closed her eyes and nuzzled into his palm affectionately.

“—Until you kissed me?” Ben suggested.

Immediately, Rey’s entire body twitched, and Ben could feel her cheek grow red-hot under his skin.

She shuffled forward until their foreheads were touching.

With a deep sigh, she said—“You make me feel…” She began slowly, then paused and leaned into him. “Like I’m not alone.”

Ben hugged her tight and kissed her forehead. “You’re not alone.”

Rey smiled and kissed him on the lips, warm and delicious and far, far more than he would ever deserve. “Neither are you.”

In the darkness and rapidly dropping temperature, they melted into each other again, exchanging kisses and growing closer. They could’ve just fucked right then and there, and both of them wanted to desperately. It was really just his stupid choice of location hindering that.

But—He thought, gently coaxing a finger into her cunt, this can still be something beautiful. As soon as he grazed her walls, she tensed, and let out a small gasp before biting her lip.

Ben kissed her passionately, possessively, and eased it in deeper, feeling the softness of her. She was wet. Wet and perfect and utterly radiant. 

The first time she came was so quick and intense that she appeared a little embarrassed. Ben would’ve been proud of himself…but he knew that it wouldn’t be long before they’d have to go back. Before they’d go to sleep, go back to school, and face what was coming in the next week.

He didn’t deserve her.

“Rey—“ He breathed against her lips. When she paid him no heed and dug her tongue further into his mouth, he opened his eyes and set his free hand firmly against her cheek, prying her off to reveal a half-dazed, bewildered expression. “I—” He stuttered out. “I need to tell you something—about—”

Rey shook her head. “Later,” She murmured, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders as though she were afraid that he would disappear at any moment. “Whatever it is, whatever’s going on, right now outside? I don’t fucking care. It’s just us.”

It’s just us.

He let her melt back into him, let himself play with her more, let her to the same with his cock until he was a sputtering mess. All that mattered was this moment. He could go back to hating himself tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Dr. Luke Skywalker lived about twenty minutes outside of Hamilton, through farms and fields that blanketed the landscape in a rustic tapestry of green and brown. Various trees dotted the sides of the road and the distance, maple and oak and ash, flaming red and orange against the pale noon sky. And overhead, it was largely clear…though Rey could make out a patch of clouds in the direction they were headed. They seemed suspicious for incoming freezing rain, but with any luck it would pass over them harmlessly. They’d had a warm patch of weather over the past week, so Rey hadn’t brought anything more than a grey windbreaker to go with her black long-sleeved blouse and navy jeans.

Maybe in another timeline, Rey would have spent the car ride excitedly asking Ben questions about Luke, rehearsing what she wanted to tell him. But her mind was swimming with too many thoughts. She was nervous on principle, but Leia’s expression and deflection was still fresh in her mind. And Ben had been…strangely quiet all morning.

She could’ve pried. She should have pried. But it wasn’t actually her place to do so. She contemplated how, in the past few years that they’d known each other, and in the past weeks of them really getting to know each other, she’d learned that his relationship with his uncle was far more complex than her perception of her hero. Enough that he’d revealed some deeply personal information about how his son—Ben’s little cousin—had passed away far too young. Enough to know that Luke Skywalker had thrown himself into his work and had placed incomparable expectations on Ben. Enough for his twin sister and brother-in-law not to talk much about him at the dinner table.

She hadn’t said it aloud, but she’d hoped Ben had understood…but she knew how frustrating it was to have a fundamentally different relationship with her family than what she had allowed the world to see.

She had already forgiven Ben for positioning himself as the chaperone in this interaction. And really, when she examined the matter as a whole, it was perfectly appropriate to have a buffer for this moment.

At the beginning of the semester, she had imagined this meeting as profession and transactional, no different than knocking on the door of his office in Coruscant. As her relationship with Ben had progressed, it had begun to transform into a far more delicate matter.

She had a million questions for Dr. Skywalker tucked away in her mind. Ben had promised to let her do the talking. They’d get in. They’d get out. Then maybe decompress with a movie. And do other things.

Ping!

Rey shook the thoughts out of her head and glanced down to her phone. There was an instagram notification, indicating that one of her friends had updated their story.

She passed a glance at Ben, but he was stony-faced, focused only on the winding roads in front of them. Then, her phone. Melo and at least five of their classmates enjoying dinner the night before in town. 

Every few pictures, she could see new texts popping up in her group chat with Finn and Rose. 

Rose:…

Rose: I hate urology I hate urology what the fuck is TURP syndrome

Finn: …dilutional hyponatremia

Rose: EXAPLAINNN

Finn: Surgeon puts scope up dick. Surgeon shoots fluid through scope. Body says hell yeah more water.

Finn: Body has more water less salt. Body says fuck. Heart gets slow. BP gets high. Brain turns to mush. Body dies.

Rose:…thanks babe

Rey smiled to herself, seeing Rose call Finn babe. They’d been publicly exchanging that term for over a week, and it fit them like a glove. And admittedly, she got the tiniest bit of schadenfreude from watching them get annoyed with the surgery material. She’d actually done far better than she’d expected on the exam, but only because of her near-constant studying with Ben.

She flipped to Rose’s story. It looked like she’d snapped about fifty pictures of herself and Finn in Toronto two weeks prior, enjoying the waterfront, CN tower, and some delectable-looking Nigerian food.

Rose: ok off topic you guys have to help me figure out which one’s better

Finn: Idk man I’m not buying them. Rey you’re better at this

She frowned and opened the group chat. Rose was trying to decide on a scrub cap for her upcoming general surgery block. One covered in Pikachu making various cute faces, another covered with cherries.

Rey: Pikachu for sure. 

She switched back to the Instagram story. There were some pictures she hadn’t seen before, and soon she realized that they were from a more recent evening on the town. They were enjoying some drinks, just the two of them. Then Rose was hugging Anh…and Melo. Finn embracing and laughing with a few of the guys. Several people had been out at the same time, and it was unclear if it had been planned or if they’d all met at that bar by happenstance.

What had she been doing with Ben that night? Probably the usual, but her phone wasn’t off or anything.

Rose: No one will think it’s weird? 

Finn: It’s pretty recognizable--

Rose: What about you??

She flipped back and forth through the pictures. She thought, for a moment about how she hadn’t posted anything with Ben in frame. Ever.

Finn: Yeah I’m not spending money on that shit—

A shock ran through Rey’s chest, and with a sharp inhale she silenced her phone and tucked it away. Rose and Finn had every right to do their own thing while settling into their burgeoning relationship. She’d been spending most of her free time with Ben anyway in the library and study hall. Maybe they’d assumed that she wouldn’t be interested in an outing. Wouldn’t have been the first time a friend had—

Don’t spiral over this. She reminded herself. She didn’t give a damn about social media posts. She didn’t know the story. And she probably wouldn’t have gone out even if they had invited them.

“Everything okay?”

Rey and Ben exchanged a look. His brow was furrowed with concern. 

Rey pressed her lips together in a line and nodded. “I’m alright,” She said, shifting her gaze to the window. “How much further?”

“Just a few minutes,” He said softly. “I’ll let you know.”

***

The house was small grey hut, perhaps purchased with the intent of being used as a quiet retirement home for one or two people. Faded black shingles covered the roof, some missing and others clearly loose. The small gravel path that led to it from the main road took several minutes to creep along in the car, dotted by a few broad crimson trees, and all along she could see that certain parts seemed flat and manicured, while others were covered in tall, rusty-looking stalks of grass. It looked as though someone had tried to shave their own head in a fit of madness, leaving scalp patchy and unkempt.

As the sun peeked through the rays of the leaves, she thought of a day that she and Ben had spent together in the library. They were taking a break from studying, but were still avoiding touching each other in front of their peers. She’d asked him earnestly what to say first to build a good rapport with Dr. Skywalker. He’d said something, she was sure…but it was muffled and incomprehensible.

She shivered as she got out of the car, feeling a brisk gust of wind against her back. She turned as Ben shut the door on his side and watched him intently. He was focused not on her, but on the house, seemingly lost in thought.

I don’t know, was what he’d said. Just be honest.

She steeled herself and closed the door, and wordlessly they walked forward, side by side.

Then, it was there. An old faded grey door, scratched and peeling, with a nearly incospicuous white doorbell just at the side.

Rey and Ben exchanged a glance.

“Go for it,” He said, motioning towards the doorbell.

Ring.

Rey sucked in a sharp breath and stepped back, awaiting a silhouette. Five seconds went by. Then ten, and nothing happened. She turned back to Ben, who was unmoored, then stepped forward again. She lifted her hand, brought her finger closer to the doorbell—hesitated, thinking she saw a shadow in the corner of her eye—then pressed it again, and stepped back quickly, positioning herself as close to Ben’s side as possible. Without thinking, her hand found his, and as a form materialized behind the door, their fingers entwined in each other…until the door began to open, and he quickly let her go.

The last time she saw Dr. Luke Skywalker, she had just turned eighteen years old. He was a kind-looking middle aged man, not much taller than her, with close-cropped copper hair beginning to develop flecks of grey. He always wore a long flowing white coat emblazoned with the Coruscant Hospital crest, with a dark grey button up shirt and black pants. He frequently wore his black stethoscope with a blue and green bracelet wrapped around the bell. Friendship bracelets, with cracked paint on some of the beads. One had said Luke on it. She remembered him smiling warmly as he gave her the good news: her next appointment wasn’t going to be for another six months (six months!, Mum had squeezed her hand excitedly). And, now that she was an adult, her subsequent check-ins would be with the adult oncology team. His piercing blue eyes had sparkled at Rey’s hesitant smile, and the wrinkles around his eyes were a joyous sight when she quietly asked, really? And he’d nodded and said, yes. Yes really.

The man standing in front of her, staring her down, his eyes only briefly darting to the man beside her…well, he had the face of Dr. Skywalker. Same nose, same jaw, with longer greyer hair, a shaggier, greyer beard, and a few more wrinkles. A dark grey Led Zeppelin shirt, dark sweatpants, and a grey-blue bathrobe hanging loose by his sides. 

He looked to be opening his mouth to say something, what, who, oh, but when he turned to focus solely on Ben, his gaze hardened and his jaw clenched tight. Rey paused, wondering what she was smelling, but it dissipated almost immediately.

“So you did come after all,” He said, not to Rey.

Rey opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter a sound, Skywalker turned his gaze back to her and asked simply: “You’re Teodora?”

“A—I—”

“She goes by Rey now,” Ben interjected.

Rey shot him a hard look, and he replied with an inscrutable frown.

“Yeah,” Dr. Skywalker murmured, turning away and stepping back into his house. He waved lazily, motioning for them to come inside. “Let’s get this over with.”

The first thing that Rey noticed when she stepped closer to him and over the threshold, was something sharp and pungent. Not dirty, but heavy, and wafting over Dr. Skywalker.

There was a cluster of shoes in the entryway, sitting neatly on top of a black carpet. She hurriedly removed her boots and set them off to the side, then tiptoed gingerly onto the hardwood floor. Ben lingered behind her, and did not stop. The heels of his boots creaked against the floor with every step. The walls were steel-grey, marked only by the occasional dying plant and knick knack. She saw no pictures on the walls, save for a generic framed painting of a dead tree.

Dr. Skywalker stopped suddenly before the living room. It was decorated as plainly as the entryway, the walls were only a few shades lighter. It held a large blue-grey couch, a glass coffee-table, and a couple of matching chairs. And there were books and papers stacked everywhere. A fairly old flat-screen TV sat in the corner on a black stand, enveloped too by piles of papers and folders, and a couple of small bowls. It was on, playing some fantasy-looking movie that she’d never seen. And in the corner, when she tilted her head, she could make out a small framed picture of a young man, a woman with red hair, holding a smiling little boy on their shoulders.

“Do either of you want something to drink?” He said wearily, craning his neck towards them. Despite the tone, his voice made Rey nearly jump out of her skin. 

“I’m driving,” said Ben.

He turned to Rey. 

She shrugged uncertainly. “Do you have any water?”

“Glasses are in the cupboard above the sink,” He said, waving to the kitchen before he slowly lowered himself into one of the seats.

Neither of them got water, and as they sat down across from him on the couch, she noticed a glass of water with ice sitting on top of the glass table. She almost wanted to laugh, but stopped herself in time and focused on establishing good posture. Legs straight, hands folded at her knees, and chin even. Next to it sat a mostly-empty whiskey bottle and mostly-empty glass, ice still in it, with the amber liquid sitting at the bottom. Rey felt her nose scrunch up at the scent, realizing that she had been smelling it on Skywalker since they’d arrived at the house.

“So Ben, how are your parents doing?” He began dispassionately.

Rey looked to Ben, who crossed his arms. “They’re fine. You can call them every once in awhile, you know.”

It was like she wasn’t even there.

He barely seemed to register Ben’s retort. “Are you still in school? Second year now?”

“Third,” They said in unison.

Skywalker paused, his expression stony. Slow, but not quite drunk. “Congratulations on making it this far then. Almost two years to go before the real hell begins.” He said insincerely. She could’ve sworn she then heard him mumble under his breath joke of a school. He opened his mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by a suddenly loud voice from the TV—

—The war is over, and when I kill you, I will have killed the last—

He smoothly picked up a remote from between the cushions of his chair and shut the TV off. The sound of the small plastic remote hitting the glass nearly made her jolt.

“You’re in third year too?” He lifted his whiskey glass and pointed to Rey with narrowed eyes. “I thought you were younger.” 

“I am,” She said, bewildered as she watched him down the last of the alcohol and set his glass down. She…she had informed him of this in advance, hadn’t she? Or, at least…Ben had done so. On her behalf.

“Why are you here?”

Rey blinked, then took a deep breath and opened with a mildly nervous laugh before launching into the rough spiel she’d been rehearsing in her head. “Dr. Skywalker, you’re one of the foremost pediatric oncologists in the country. I want to pursue pediatric oncology after medical school, and I figured…” She pursed her lips and held up her arms. “You’d be the best one to talk to about it.”

Skywalker raised an eyebrow at them both. “You do know that I’ve been retired for years now, right? I’m of no use to you.”

“You still attend conferences, you have connections.” Ben pointed out.

He shot him a glare, again distracted. “Only once a year, and I’m done with research.”

“Bullshit, you still participate.”

“I do it to show face—”

Rey blinked, her eyes bouncing between them. What the fuck was going on here?

“Like with your family?”

He raised a finger to him. “You of all people have no right—”

“I understand your point Dr. Skywalker,” Rey interrupted loudly, lowering her arms to her sides. “But I was once your patient at Coruscant. I was inspired by your work to pursue pediatric oncology, and when I discovered that I had the opportunity to meet you…I realized I had to do it.”

She glared at Ben for a moment and added in a low voice, “I had hoped to do this part without interruption.” He met her eyes apologetically, and slunk back into the couch again, before rubbing his face with one hand and letting out a small sigh. “Sorry,” She heard him murmur.

Skywalker, undeterred redirected his finger towards her. “Rey, that little attempt at a personal statement is not helping your case, and bringing me a step closer to kicking you out of my house. So I will ask again, why are you here?” For a moment, his eyes darted between both of them, instead of resting solely on Rey.

“Hey, I’m only here for her—” Ben murmured dispassionately beside Rey. She watched from the corner of her eye as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the cushion.

Skywalker shot him a furious glare. “I wasn’t asking you, Ben,” He said. Rey held her breath as he craned his neck towards her, dipping his chin. “Why are you here?”

She blinked, and for a second she lost all awareness of the world save for her own breathing and heartbeat. Dr. Skywalker’s eyes burned into hers, and in that moment she felt compelled to give him the simplest, most honest answer. “Because I wanted to see you again…I…” She took a deep breath and blinked hard against her clouding eyes. “I wanted closure.”

There was a pause, and then Skywalker began to laugh softly, mirthlessly, mockingly, that it made Rey’s entire body stiffen. “Closure, really? Is that what this is? I never got the sense that you and I had developed a close personal bond, Rey. I had far more personal discussions with your mother. If anything, she’s the one who should be here today.”

Rey’s heard thudded in her chest. Her vision was growing cloudy.

“Luke, don’t—”

But he continued undeterred. “She owes me an apology or three for the things she said while I was looking after you. I might’ve even kept you on my clinic list for an extra year if she wasn’t such a—”

Wrong, this was all wrong. Rey tried to stop him, to focus on anything other than stopping tears from blooming in her vision, but all that came out of her mouth was a small strangled sound, drowned out by Ben’s low voice saying “Please stop.”

But he was on a roll, barely registering his nephew’s relatively tepid plea. “Where is she, by the way? Does she know that you’re in my home? Honestly I wouldn’t expect her to be too happy that you’re associating with anyone in my bloodline, much less…fornicating with my nephew.” He held out an arm to Ben to demonstrate his point, expression shifting to something like ironic humour. 

Rey felt her heart harden as she looked him directly in the eye. There was no hesitation this time, and no emotion in her voice. “She’s dead.” She had never been sure how she had actually expected this meeting to go, in all of her wildest dreams…but this was certainly not it.

Suddenly, her breathing felt harder, and her chest was getting tight.

Luke paused for a moment, closed his mouth and slowly curled his open hand into a tight fist, lowering it with a sigh. “My condolences.”

But Rey wasn’t done. Her chest was alight now, as though the residual oxygen in her lungs was being ignited. With each breath, she felt like she was releasing smoke. “She passed away about a year after my last appointment with you.” The words came out quick and firm, and she was surprised at herself for being able to articulate it so easily. Slowly, she felt the moisture in her eyes settle and dissipate. Maybe it would disappear altogether.

Luke nodded and lowered his own gaze, perhaps out of regret? Shame? Rey’s stomach twisted either way, and she wasn’t entirely sure if she cared what was going on in his head.

She watched him for a breath, then nodded herself, and let out the smallest chuckle. At the sound, she felt Ben shift beside her uncomfortably. “I have thought about this moment, so so many times. For awhile, I thought this was going to be me asking you for a research job, or advice on how to match to pediatrics. And when I found out that you’d retired, I decided that I still wanted to see you again, even if I wouldn’t get anything tangible out of it.”

“So that’s why it was important for you to see me again?” His voice was low, but she was taken aback at the sudden shift in his words, from perfunctory to…sincere. “Closure for your family, with a bit of career advice thrown in?”

Did he really not understand?

With a deep breath, she lifted her gaze to meet his. He was beginning to appear blurry, but she forced herself to remain steadfast, and mature. “You were the one who kept me alive all those years ago.” She paused, briefly, and felt her voice grow even quieter. Barely above a whisper in the otherwise soundless room. “You were my hero. And when I found out that I could get a chance to reconnect with you, I wanted to seize it…no matter what.”

Ben was not moving. She turned to him, wishing desperately that she could send him a message with her eyes. We talked about this. You know what I mean.

Luke eyed her for a second, perhaps one too long, enough for her to think that he was furrowing his brow. That his wall was cracking. But then, he closed his eyes and dropped his head, the slightest titter escaping from his lips. “I never kept you alive. My team kept you alive. I don’t need you to call me a hero, I have enough thank you cards to last me the rest of my life, yours included. Families facing death and disability will direct their gratefulness and deference to anyone who doesn’t treat them like dirt.”

Rey’s hand tightened to a fist by her side. She felt Ben shift uncomfortably beside her. 

She narrowed her eyes at Luke. “Fine, but you did direct your team to save my life. You must understand why I wanted to do this.”

“I understand that you are acting like an immature teenager who thinks that they’re the main character of reality. You think that you have more of a right to me than anyone else, whether it’s because you used my nephew or because you had a bit more of a sob story than some of your peers.”

Rey crossed her arms. “What is that supposed to mean?

Luke’s nostrils flared as he leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on top of his interlocked fingers. “I have treated thousands of children in my career. To be quite honest, I do not remember half their names. That’s not because of anything that they did wrong. It’s because in this line of work, you either learn to distance yourself from patients, or collapse under the weight of your own guilt and regrets.”

Rey pursed her lips, but did not reply.

Luke gave a small shrug, then looked her up and down. “Honestly, when Ben told me that he might’ve seen you at school, the first memory that came to my mind was the day that I got into a screaming match about your resection with the surgeon. He wanted to barrel on ahead, I wanted to do more chemotherapy and save your celiac plexus.”

Rey frowned, and instinctively her hand rose to her upper abdomen, where there was still a small scar from that very operation.

“I won that argument.” He said, nodding towards her hands. “Congratulations on your functional gastrointestinal system. And I apologize for the neurotoxicity. Has it resolved since then?”

“It has,” She said bluntly, looking down at her palms, remembering the pain and tingling that used to keep her up for hours, or her inability at one point to hold a mug in her hands. The pins and needles feeling would return every now and again on particularly cold winter’s nights, but there wasn’t a cure for that. It would forever be another thing in her life. “And is that it?”

“I’m sure you remember the day that you were diagnosed pretty vividly, don’t you? Or, maybe the first time you rang the bell. Or—“ He held up his hand and shifted his gaze up, as though a brilliant idea had just popped into his head. “—Let’s pick a day. The appointment where I told you and your mother that your cancer was back. I remember that you looked like I’d slapped you, and your mother called me a…” He paused and sighed, as though searching through his memories for the scene. “I believe it was ‘fucking lying, incompetent fraud.’”

He took a breath, and met her eyes. In that moment, the room was so still and silent that one could have heard a pin drop.

Luke pursed his lips and sighed. “It stung, I will admit. But, you must be grateful that even with your recurrence, the tumours never metastasized above your diaphragm. Do you want to know what else happened that day?”

Rey swallowed hard, but said nothing.

Luke stopped first to lean forward and take a sip of his water, his eyes never leaving Rey’s. “That same day, I had another patient, an eight year old boy with a very similar primary tumour to yours, and I had to tell him and his family that it had metastasized beyond our control. He had tumours in his liver, lungs, spine, and brain, and he could barely move from the pain. He passed away about a month later.”

She remembered that boy. Not his name, but she must’ve seen him around in the playroom. He used to hog the Wii to play Mario with his three brothers, much to the dismay of the other kids his age. There was a point when they stopped coming, but she wasn’t sure when.

“Why are you telling me this?” She asked.

“Because you came here, and what you really wanted to say to me was ‘Oh Dr. Skywalker, gosh I hope you’ll tell me you’re proud of me. Now please tell me what to do so I can be just like you when I grow up.’”

Rey flinched as he said those words, his voice rising in a mocking fashion as he attempted to imitate her. 

“If you want to be like me? Fine, you can do it. Continue along this path. My advice to match? Do electives in the specialty, and find someone who likes you enough to groom you for the position. Djarin’s still around, you can ask him. Then match in Toronto, work there for four years and pursue an oncology fellowship. Get a job at Coruscant. Build your entire life around your warped perceptions of gratitude and closure. Save a patient or two, and tell yourself that it was all worth it. You might have a few kids die, but you will find ways to cope. Maybe you’ll drink, or develop a drug addiction, or engage in risky behaviours. Or maybe you’ll just push through as the white knight and paint landscapes to deal with your feelings.”

Rey listened intently as he spoke, petrified at the sound of his voice, but noting every crack and steel-sharp breath. Every moment when he would stop and pause as though his head was being invaded by a blinding flash of a memory.

He took a breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was low. Even a little shaky as he ran a hand through his grey hair. “Then one day…you’ll be in your fifties, or sixties, alone, bitter, and burnt out. Everything you once found joy in will turn to ash in front of you, and you’ll wonder what possessed you to do this in the first place.”

A beat passed between them before she spoke. “That’s what happened to you?” Was that what happened when his son died, or when his wife left him? Or had the tapestry already been unravelling before the tragedy ripped it apart?

“That’s what happens to most people.”

“I’m not most people,” She protested.

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Keep telling yourself that. I know exactly what you dealt with, and I can tell you from the bottom of my heart, that you don’t have what it takes to do my job.”

And then, with one final pause, he pursed his lips and shrugged. “I didn’t.”

The room was silent for what felt like an eternity, the passing of time marked only by a vague ticking coming from an unseen clock. Rey spent quite a long time staring at Luke, then glancing between the papers and the TV and the glasses of water and empty whiskey on the table, and the residual liquid in the bottle that he might be saving for a late-afternoon shot. Then, with a sigh, she lowered her head and ran her fingers through her hair, slowly again and again until a chuckle escaped her lips. She couldn’t stop it, the way it came out in hoarse waves, beating against the sand in greater and greater frequency until it came over as a tidal wave.

When she lifted her head, she had to wipe a few tears away from her eyes, but kept chuckling awkwardly at the sight of Luke and Ben’s stunned expressions.

“Wow,” She said dryly, sniffling back a fresh set of tears. “I really—” She had to steady herself and blow out several breaths through pursed lips. “I…I guess I was wrong to come here after all. I mean… I knew it would be awkward with you two, and maybe a little ethically questionable, but I didn’t—” She stopped laughing and sniffled again. “You could’ve just sent me an email.” She knew, even as she said those words, that if they’d gone that route and he’d delivered every word of his spiel over email, it wouldn’t have been sufficient for her. She would have spent her entire life searching for him so that she could tell him everything in person.

“First, I do not check my email address,” said Luke. “Second, every part of this is ethically dubious, just to be clear.”

Ben scoffed loudly beside Rey.

Luke continued, “You were not supposed to come here at all.”

Rey blinked, and whirled her head between them. “What?”

Luke was unamused. “Oh, he didn’t tell you?”

Rey looked at Ben, then at Luke. The old man’s eyebrow lifted, and his jaw shifted. She glanced back at Ben, feeling her heart begin to quicken. His jaw was clenching, breathing slow and measured. But his eyes…his eyes lowered, until they were no longer looking her way at all.

It came to her all at once. Of course, how could she have been so blind?

“Ben…” She whispered, part of her wishing that it wasn’t true, wishing that she had asked this months ago so that she could save herself from this humiliation. “You never spoke to him, did you?”

Ben did not move.

Rey leaned forward, feeling her breath hitch in her throat. “Ben?”

Slowly, he raised his gaze, only briefly shifting it towards Luke before facing Rey directly. “No, this was never arranged. Luke was never going to speak to you.”

“That’s why…” She closed her eyes, shoulders dropping. She should’ve known. Mortification seared through her veins like ice, making her shiver involuntarily. “That’s why…you emailed…you stalled, you said he was at conferences…you…you said you had to come with me.”

“Give him a little credit,” Luke quietly interjected. She shot him a look, but he was shaking his glass, utterly fascinated by the last piece of ice jangling around at the bottom. “He did reach out last month to ask if I would see you. I very clearly said that I wanted to be left alone, and he very clearly didn’t listen. Not that he has ever listened to anything I’ve ever told him.”

But Rey barely had the energy to care about his words. She felt like she’d been sucker-punched in slow motion, losing her breath and every last ounce of her energy. She dipped her head towards Ben, dropping her voice low. “Why did you lie to me?”

The world slowed as his expression shifted, until his face was marred by a profound guilt and shame that made him look so…so small. “I was going to tell you.” He said.

“You were going—” She started, then bit her lip and shook her head, wishing she could expel the memory, wanting nothing more than to go back to before. The day that she’d snapped at him over his father. Had he been gearing up for this the whole time? Had he taken her seriously even once? “When were you going to tell me? Before or after this part?”

Ben dodged her gaze again when he spoke. “I don’t know.”

He shook his head. “Really, what did you think was going to happen here?”

Ben said nothing for awhile, then looked at Rey, at the red in her eyes and the tear streaks along her cheeks. “Not this part.”

Rey looked at Ben for a long while, her heart thudding in her chest, and slowly, carefully, she stood up from the couch and took a step back. Dizzy…she felt dizzy as both men came into view before her. “You…fucking lied to me Ben.” After she’d told him. She’d told him all of that, and he still did it. Like Mum, her friends, everyone in her life who’d never thought she’d be able to handle the truth and could only go through life blind and chained to a chaperone.

“Of course he did,” said Luke, in a disappointed tone that made it seem like he’d expected it. “He always does. But don’t feel too bad, kid, none of this was about you. He’s just using you to punish me.”

“This isn’t about you.” She shot at Luke through gritted teeth.

He was unperturbed. “Of course it is. Did he ever tell you what happened?”

“That is not your fucking story to tell,” Ben broke in.

Luke shot Ben a knowing look, hard but dispirited. Ben’s gaze, however, was as sharp as a dagger, and more venomous than she had ever seen from him.

Rey took a deep breath and faced Luke Skywalker.

When he spoke, there was no hint of satisfaction in his voice. Only weariness, exhaustion. Regret. “Ben was one of the best students I’ve ever taught. He was profoundly intelligent and insightful, and intrinsically understood more about the nuances of patient care than most of my medical students. Most of my residents, really.” They both turned slowly to Ben, but he turned his head away without a word, jaw clenched in frustration.

Luke turned back to Rey. “I favoured him for years, I let him shadow me and participate in my research projects, I set him up to study and get a top-notch MCAT score, and yet—” He held out an arm towards his nephew, his eyes never leaving Rey. “I could see, even if I was in denial, that he wasn’t ready to take the next step. He was slipping just as the time came for his applications, failing to engage and lashing out anytime he received constructive criticism. So when the moment came, and he didn’t get a single interview, it became clear that there was a bigger problem.”

A low groan escaped Ben’s lips. She watched as he leaned forward and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “That’s not—”

But Luke barely paid him any mind. “He couldn’t take it. And instead of picking himself up like a fighter and trying again, he blamed me for his failures. He reported me to the medical board for harassment and abuse, jeopardized my entire practice and career—”

Rey took a step back instinctively. With every word, she could hear a new kind of rage boiling under Luke’s skin, leaking into every word like he was desperately trying to hold himself back from bellowing out his story.

“—Alienated me from what was left of my family, and then ran away to America to do a useless degree before coming back and applying to a joke of a medical school out of spite—”

“Fuck off,” Ben shot to his feet with a loud cry that made Rey flinch. Luke did the same, and suddenly the three of them were in a standoff in his living room, heated and emotional. “You don’t get to pretend you were a saint, like you weren’t trying to control my every move, mould me into your little protege.”

Luke ignored him. “—He calls once to insult me, doesn’t apologize for any of his behaviour—”

Ben whirled towards Rey. “He was exploitative at best, multiple students and residents reported him to their programs, and they’re still naming awards after him—”

But Luke wasn’t done. “—And now he shows up unannounced on my property and brings you, one of my own patients, just to remind me of my many failures as a mentor and doctor.”

Ben whirled towards Rey, his eyes wide like a madman. “He is full of shit, do not listen to him—” The desperation in his voice was clear, but Rey was petrified, watching this chaotic back and forth, being battered by a storm that she had no capacity to quell.

Luke let out a dry laugh that made a shiver run down her spine. “Teodora—Rey—I don’t know you, but do not shackle yourself to my nephew. He couldn’t make it in academia and came crawling back to Canada, all to be an inferior version of—”

“I am not Anakin!!”

The room went dead silent as they both stared at Ben.

Even Ben seemed horrified at what had just come out of his mouth. She could see, even from a few steps away, that his eyes were growing glassy.

Rey took a step closer to Ben, thinking she should put her hand on his shoulder, offer him some word of comfort, just be by his side. But before she could move, Luke spoke. His voice was quiet, raspy. Livid, horrified, and laced with years and years of soul-shattering resentment…and despair.

“Get out.”

He looked between them. “Both of you. Now.”

Rey didn’t need to be told twice. She turned back towards the entryway, scooped up her boots, and let herself out the front door so that she could put them on without either of them seeing her face. Once her shaky hands managed to get them on, she stepped out into the sun, quickly disappearing behind rapidly gathering grey clouds.

She swore to herself as a gust of wind enveloped her in shivers, and began to walk towards the car. Ben was not behind her. When she turned to see where he was, she heard muffled yelling behind the door and decided that it would be best to separate herself from them.

She didn’t have keys to his car, and she knew immediately that the doors would be locked. She shivered suddenly, feeling a pinch of moisture on her cheek, and felt for fresh tears…and something else. Up, up above, something was dripping. A slow faucet of ice-cold water, and it wouldn’t be long before it became a full-on torrent.

Cursing, she decided that she needed to move. She walked briskly, her hood pulled up tight, as the tears bloomed and the slow drips continued from the sky, not yet escalating to a drizzle but settling instead into an unpleasant mist. She walked further, for five, ten minutes, until she made it to a hill and could no longer make out Luke Skywalker’s hut in her line of sight. And when she knew that she was truly alone, she found a large oak-tree, brown and blood-red and half-stripped of its leaves…and she sat down , curled up, and cried.

**

Ben called her several times before she picked up. With a loud sniffle, she told him that she was several properties away, and promised to to walk back right away and meet him wherever he was parked. She then hung up before he could reply. The cold mist was beginning to clear, though the clouds only seemed to be getting darker. She knew that a drizzle was imminent, if not flurries.

Her chest was sore from her crying, her voice was hoarse, and her mind was racing with millions of thoughts about what she’d just witnessed, and how fundamentally it shattered whatever was left of the image she’d held so dear to her heart. 

She was getting dizzy, if not from the cold then from the sounds of shouting playing in her ears on repeat. The pain in Ben’s voice—both of their voices—the rasps and crackles and bellows of two men who’d locked themselves into a life of seemingly eternal conflict and resentment. She reminded herself that Ben had told her about at least…some of it. He’d told her about Luke’s son, about his own struggles trying to live up to his family’s image of whom he could have become. But…time was the thing to heal all wounds, wasn’t it?

She paused for a minute, lost in thought, and stared at her blurry reflection in a puddle on the side of the road.

Not this part.

It shouldn’t have been the thing bothering her. The Rey of a year, even a month ago, would have been shattered by the revelation that Dr. Luke Skywalker was an arrogant, depressed, unequivocal prick. But now? Her mind kept going back to Ben, the deep shame in his voice at being found out. And the gut-wrenching, heartbreaking knowledge that he’d betrayed her trust like that.

He could’ve—he should’ve—she’d opened up to him about her fears and insecurities. She’d told him well over a week ago, up front and unequivocally, why she didn’t like people keeping things from her, pushing her around in life without sharing information because let’s not burden her with anything more. He could’ve come clean in the car. Or maybe after, when they were at the waterfall. She would have forgiven him if he’d just owned up to it. Maybe they would’ve gone to see Luke together all the same, a single unit ready to confront him—

She shook her head, wiped her nose with her sleeve, and stepped over the puddle. As she began to crest the small hill and saw the silhouettes of the trees marking Luke’s property, she began to feel raindrops against her shoulder, each one noticeably thicker and colder than before. One hit the back of her neck, sending a bone-chilling shiver down her entire spine. She hugged herself and picked up the pace, mindful of the limited time that she had. 

The car must’ve been nearby. But as the drops continued to fall, she began to panic when she didn’t see anything…until she saw, on the opposite side of the road, a black sedan. And standing at the front, his back to her, she could make out Ben’s dark form. She found another spring in her step, not knowing if it was out of a desire to leap into his arms for comfort, or punch him for what he’d done.

Suddenly, her nose wrinkled and she stopped dead in her tracks. Even with the cold dampness blanketing the air around them, she could smell smoke. She narrowed her eyes at the car, and realized where it was coming from.

He was leaning against the hood, his shoulders lax and gaze adrift. And as Rey turned the corner of the car to get close to him, she watched as he took a long exhale. A puff of white smoke billowed from his lips like from the mouth of a dragon, all while he held the lit cigarette at his side.

Rey’s stomach twisted. “What are you doing?”

Ben slowly turned towards her, as though he hadn’t even realized she was there.

She knew he smoked sometimes. He’d claimed that he was never addicted, but sometimes he did it for his nerves. She’d told him once that she didn’t like the smell of cigarettes. So from that day on, he didn’t smoke on days that they were together.

She knew that he hadn’t quit. And it shouldn’t have bothered her. But it did.

Any rational part of her brain was screaming at her, telling her to shut up and not to judge.

But no, no, she couldn’t.

“Why the fuck are you smoking?!”

He blinked, as if in a daze, then looked down at his cigarette as if he’d just realized that he’d been holding it. With a sigh, he lifted his hand to take another puff—paused, before it crossed his lips—then met Rey’s eyes and dropped it onto the pavement, crushing it with his foot.

“You were taking too long to come back,” He said dryly.

“I—” Rey gritted her teeth, then shook her head. “Forget it.” They were a few houses away from Luke’s property, and the sky was getting darker.

“I’m sorry about what happened in there,” said Ben.

Rey whirled on him and laughed mirthlessly. “No—no you’re not. But maybe you can tell me why you did it. Why did you—why did you lie to me?”

Ben’s jaw clenched.

“Just give me a fucking answer!” She snapped.

After a long, long pause, Ben straightened, and ran a hand through his hair. “You really want the truth?”

“Yes,” She gritted out.

A shadow passed over Ben’s face, then he took a breath and spoke. “I tried to warn you that he wouldn’t do it. But when you kept asking me…I realized that I needed you to see for yourself, the kind of person that he is.”

Rey took a small step back and crossed her arms over herself, feeling a new gust against her back. “I would have accepted if you’d just told me the whole story.”

The shadow of a smile passed over his lips. But there was no humour or triumph in it. It was a sad smile, nothing more. “You never would have believed me. Even if I wasn’t around, you would have eventually found a way to meet him.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but no sound came out. He was right, even if she would never admit it to his face.

“I told you that I was pushed into becoming a doctor,” He continued slowly. “Luke was trying to pressure me into becoming like him, picking me out from the sea of students, building my resume for me. He was also unforgiving and petty, and when I finally realized how bad things had gotten, I tried to push back. Some residents and I reported his behaviour, and though it did…” He paused and let out a small, humourless laugh. “...Absolutely nothing in the long run, it was enough for him to be put on probation. Immediately after that, he publicly disowned me and accused me of ruining his life. He swore that he would make sure that I never get a job cleaning beakers again, let alone medical school.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“It—” He bit his lip and moved a step closer. “It has everything to do with you. Luke Skywalker is exactly the kind of white-knight doctor you dream of becoming, and it turned him into a monster. You can’t let yourself go down that path.” He paused, then said in a low voice. “You’re too good for that.”

Rey took a step back. “So this was all just some elaborate life lesson?”

His gaze hardened into something unreadable. “Yeah. We can call it that.”

The corner of her mouth quirked up into an ironic smile. “You’re a monster, then. You know that, right?”

His expression was inscrutable. “Yes, I am.”

They stared at each other for a long time.

Rey broke the silence first, tilting her head. “And you two blowing up at each other, that’s not something you’re going to address?”

He said nothing.

Rey pinched at her jacket and hunched forward, feeling a few more drops of rain fall. It was getting more frequent now, but at least it was masking the scent of the cigarette smoke. “You...I can’t believe I thought, you got it. I was so sure, that you were the only one who really…knows me, and what I want to do with my life.”

“I know that you want to be a pediatric oncologist. And I know that it’s not healthy or productive to blindly pursue a dream that is not truly yours, because of some fucked up idea you have about being the hero that saved you in your childhood.”

“You don’t get to judge me for wanting to do this, when you’re doing the exact same thing that your uncle pushed you into.”

“That is not the same thing!” He said, pointing an accusing finger at her. He lowered it just as quickly. “I actually had to do some soul-searching before coming back around. I’m applying to psychiatry. I didn’t just barrel through and lie to myself about who I was or what I wanted to be.”

Rey couldn’t bear to look at him as he said those words. He knew that he was talking a bunch of nonsense. But his voice was rising with each word, laced with irritation and suppressed rage that was at risk of boiling over. Maybe Luke was right, he did tend to lash out when criticized.

She pitched her voice low. “That is not why I wanted to become a doctor.”

“It sure seems like it to me.”

“You don’t fucking get it Ben, I’m not trying to be a hero!” She shouted before she could stop herself. Loud, loud enough to disturb a a small flock of crows on a nearby roof. As they took off into the cloudy sky, both of them stopped to watch them fly away.

Ben was shaking his head. “I didn’t mean it literally.”

“I just want—” She stopped, then swallowed back an incoming wave of sobs. “I just wanted to understand what happened to me.” She took a breath and steadied herself. “And my mother.”

It took time for her words to sink in. There was a long, very long lull before Ben finally asked the question that she knew he’d been harbouring as long as he’d known her.

“What happened to your mother?”

Rey raised her head and choked out the words rapidly, half-shouted and half choked-out. “She got cancer too, okay?! After all of that shit, she got sick. She raised me on her own for most of my life. She always put me first, always made sure that I got treatment, that I was taken care of, and that I was on my way to undergrad and medical school. And two months into undergrad, I found out by fucking accident that she’d been having seizures.” She took a moment to catch her breath. “She…she fucking kept it from me, for months, and by the time I found out it was too late.”

“So it was brain tumour,” He said, barely above a whisper. It was a truth that they’d learned in their first neurology lecture. When an adult had a seizure who didn’t otherwise have a history of seizures…it was often because of the mass effect from brain tumour.

Rey swallowed back a lump in her throat and looked down, hugging herself and shivering. “Glioblastoma…she never had a chance. And she lied about it and delayed treatment because she thought I couldn’t handle it.”

“Rey—”

“So don’t act like you know why I’m like this, when you don’t understand what it’s like to carry this with you every day of your life.”

He paused, then said gently, “You know you don’t need Luke to help you do that.”

She frowned at him. “I don’t need anyone. Not him, and not you.”

Ben crossed his arms. “You do though. Deny it all you want, but you are always looking for people to help you, or give you approval so that you can closure on that part of your life. That’s something that we all chose, you can’t pretend that you’re any different.”

“I don’t—” She grated.

“You do,” He continued, his voice somehow both gentle and irritated. “You’re looking for someone to give you approval. You know, deep down, that’s why you wanted to see Luke again. That’s why you got so excited when you found out that I could get you there.”

“Shut up,” She said.

He barely blinked, but continued. “If all of this between us was a lie, and you were fucking me just for access to him? I don’t care.”

“It’s not a lie,” She asserted.

“But to what end?” He challenged, taking a step closer. She felt her breath catch in her throat as he began to loom over her, the dark clouds casting an ominous darkness over his features.

“I understand, really I do. You never got the love and approval you needed. Your father walked out, and your mother was…who she was, and now she’s gone. But you can’t keep holding on to him, you have to let go—”

Her hand shot up in an instant. In the next, her slap whipped across his face with the hard crack of a thunderbolt.

“Don’t you fucking dare talk about my mother.”

Slowly, Ben raised his hand to his face, mouthing a soft ow. Then, he shook his head and sighed.

“That was out of line,” He said.

Rey gulped and took a step back, pulling in her arm. She hadn’t even really expected herself to go through with it. It hadn’t been a conscious thought, just something from the darkest, ugliest depths of her soul.

“You know,” She murmured to herself, massaging her palm. “I’ve spent a lot of my life surrounded by privileged children who don’t…have any real problems. They have to make them up, start drama, or just exaggerate their crap just to pretend they know what other people are facing.”

Ben surprised her by throwing his head back and laughing loudly, before letting out a very long sigh and running both hands through his hair. “Oh my G—you really think that? You really think that just because I grew up privileged that I can’t have any problems? Were you not just in that house with me?”

Rey rolled her eyes and sighed. “Don’t pretend you’re some fucking tortured soul here, even with this…you have money, and your family is still here. Half the attending at Coruscant know who you are. And even if you never want to see your uncle again, you still have your parents!”

Ben held his hands out, perplexed. “What does that have to do with anything? Do you think nothing bad has ever happened to me?”

“I don’t know, you almost never tell me anything! But you don’t know what it’s fucking like to—be the one on the table, to spend years planning to die, to watch everyone around you disappear and go on like nothing’s wrong.”

Ben’s voice was rising alongside hers, booming with anger and pain. “You think I don’t fucking know?! You don’t think I’ve seen people, children, babies, waste away from chemo and cancer and radiation while their families could only watch? Like I haven’t seen kids try to console their own parents when their younger siblings died, or my own fucking cousin’s funeral?!”

“You were healthy, you had a home to go to after your shadowing was over. You had—have—a family who loves you, they give a damn about you, and you just keep squandering it and feeling sorry for yourself!”

“You think that just because I had my parents I had nothing to worry about?! Do you hear yourself?”

She was feeling raindrops again, each one causing her to shiver involuntarily even while her chest was hot from anger and the speed of her racing heart.

“They supported you throughout your life, they still talk to you!”

“You don’t even know what my life was like before this.”

“So tell me, give me something!”

“I TRIED TO KILL MYSELF!”

She watched, still stunned from his outburst and panting from her tirade, as he furrowed his brow and shifted his gaze downwards. He closed his eyes for a moment, wearing a taut, pained expression, as though he had just been stabbed and was using every last ounce of his strength to conceal his absolute agony. He looked up, and his gaze hardened to steel. At that moment, the sky opened up, and the raindrops fell in quick succession. One, then another, until they were both blanketed in a freezing cold drizzle.

Ben and Rey stared at each other for what felt like far too long, before he sniffled and wiped his nose with his sleeve. His eyes never left hers.

“I attempted suicide. Twice.” Each word was slow and measured, betraying only the slightest quiver that very few people on earth would be able to detect.

Rey stared at him, bewildered.

“I attempted suicide twice,” He repeated, gritting his teeth. “Do you want to know the gruesome details?”

She took a hesitant step back, taking in his form, his shoulders hunched and silhouette growing darker and blurrier against the heavy rain. And she thought, in that moment, about the time that he’d told her about his reasons for pursuing psychiatry. And the antidepressants that she’d found in his apartment.

“What did you do?”

He shook his head sadly. Even though he was towering above her, he looked so, so small.

“The first time I tried to hang myself, the second was an overdose,” He said curtly. She could see his shoulders tense at the admission, and his hands curl into fists at his hips. “First time, it was right after Luke threatened me…I almost,” He stopped suddenly, his voice cracking. “I…I got down and went to the ER and requested admission. I was in the hospital for a week, and I lied to everyone and said I was just sick. The second time, maybe halfway through my PhD, I failed my first defence. I tried to overdose on my meds and wound up in the ICU for a few days. My mother covered my medical bills. She even flew to California to be with me in the middle of her election campaign. And—” He stopped himself, dropped his gaze, then bit his lower lip and ran his fingers through his hair. Rey sucked in an uncertain breath as he reached up to squeeze the bridge of his nose, inhaled deeply, then met her gaze. Glassy. His eyes were glassy. “Those weren’t even the first times that I’d thought about it. You know the day that I spent with you in the hospital? The day that you don’t even remember?”

Rey froze, startled at his mention of that event, that hadn’t even been a blip in her memory. And moreso, she was confused by the bitter accusation in his tone.

He hadn’t just seen her, or exchanged a few brief words with her. They’d spent time together.

“I was—” He opened his mouth, then pulled back, biting his lip. “I went up to the roof that afternoon, and I stepped onto the ledge. I stood there for hours…” His voice broke off into little more than a whisper. “…hours, contemplating, and I didn’t do it because I remembered you, a kid I’d spent hours doing melty beads with in the fucking oncology playroom. You told me that I was going to be okay. You—” He seemed to choke on his word, then stopped and pulled back, and Rey could see that his body was shaking. As he lifted his chin, she realized that he was crying. He took a breath and lifted his sleeve, hastily trying to wipe them away, then pointed at her. “You—who were months into treatment, nothing was working, you were one of the sickest patients we had, and everyone had written you off. Luke hadn’t even told you yet, but he thought you had six months left at most. And you told me that I was going to be okay.” With that, he pressed his hand against his chest, like he was trying to still his heart before it pounded out of control.

“When I left Canada, you were in chemo again, and I’d just assumed that you’d died. You were a ghost in my mind for years, until I realized you were the insufferable girl in class who yelled at me in front of everyone. I might as well have been talking to a completely different person.” He stopped, closed his eyes, and drew in a very very long inhale. When he exhaled, the air came out misty, like the drawl of another cigarette. He appeared to be lost in memory, as though they were back on that balcony. Fresh-faced medical students, tired from the past week and bantering about their respective neighbourhoods.

Suddenly, Ben seemed to snap back to reality. When he spoke, his voice was heavy with wariness. “And you know what? I will never, ever get closure on what happened because that first day meant nothing to you.”

“Ben—”

Ben raised his head, and she could see, even through the rain, that his cheeks were streaked with a mixture of the drops and his own tears.

“Don’t try to give me a comforting lie or pretend that you remember,” He said. “I’ve already accepted it.”

Rey swallowed hard. He was right, it would be a lie to tell him that. She knew that he was being truthful about this encounter, but that didn’t change the fact that she had no memory of it. She understood then, the night that she had found the blue butterfly at his apartment. The way that little token had stirred something within her that she could not yet understand. He had been trying to gently coax the memory out of her, hadn’t he? And she’d been too stupid to realize it.

“Rey,” He said quietly. “The vast, vast majority of people will never experience the things that you have. But you have no right to tell me that I’ve had it easy.”

She was silent for a long while, eyes closed, hugging herself, her head dropping as the raindrops continued to thump against her body. They’d been out in the rain so long now that she was soaked to the bone.

She raised her head slightly, and glanced between Ben and Luke’s property, so close yet so far in this weather.

“I’m tired, Ben.” She said.

Ben sighed. “Me too,” He said. “Let’s get in the car.”

“No, Ben, I—” She said suddenly, grabbing onto his forearm.

Ben looked down at her hand, then at her.

Rey pulled back. “I’m really, really tired. And I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

Ben’s voice was quiet. “And what is that?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“This—” Rey pointed a finger at herself and at him. “I fucked up, I’m sorry. I just hit you, I said nasty things, and I’ve been terrible to you all along…”

She took a breath, and met his gaze. He looked like he’d just been stabbed in the chest…but he was not surprised.

Rey scrunched her eyes shut. “And you—you lied to me. You did the one thing that I asked you never to do. And I don’t want to be with someone who does that.”

He did not move. He did not try to protest. He simply dropped his shoulders, gave a small nod, and said. “I understand. Now get in the car.”

She crossed her arms stubbornly. “I just said I’m not going to stay with you! We’re done!”

Ben opened his door, without looking at her, and said firmly, “Teodora Mitrovic-Johnson. Get in the fucking car before you get hypothermia.”

“And then what?”

“I’ll drop you off at home,” He said bluntly. “You don’t need to speak to me at all.”

They drove in silence as the heavy raindrops battered against the windshield. Neither of them spoke or attempted to play music. Ben turned on the radio exactly once to check the traffic, then clicked it off as soon as Alarm Force jingle began to play.

When they reached the front steps of Rey’s apartment, she let out a small shiver, closed her jacket and threw up her hood to protect from the freezing droplets and his torturing gaze. She did not look at him, but unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door.

“Hey—“ She heard him whisper faintly, shivering again at the faint brush of skin against her sleeve. He might’ve said hey. Maybe Rey. But she soldiered on, closed the door, and climbed up the steps in a huff. It took three attempts for her shaky hands to find her key and open the glass door. As she stepped inside, however, she hesitated, and felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. She whirled, to see his car still parked along the sidewalk, barely ten metres away. The window on the passenger’s side was open, giving her a full unobstructed view of his face. It was not steely or angry, and perhaps it would’ve been easier if it had been. His expression instead was anguished, pleading, as if he was hoping for her to return to his arms.

She studied him, taking in several breaths and attempting to harden her own face as she carefully closed the door in front of her, turning her back to enter her passcode for the lobby. He did not close the window until after she’d turned her back, and he did not leave until she had gone through the second door. She stood alone in the lobby, staring out at the road, motionless, until Ben Solo was long out of sight.

Chapter Text

Rey didn’t talk about her mother. Not with Finn, or Rose, or Ben, or anyone. She didn’t want to unpack the years of their relationship, the complicated dynamics, the fact that she was a good mother for her circumstances. A mother who’d moved across the Atlantic to give her young daughter a better life. A mother who had left Serbia and England, who had integrated into so many new cities, who had put up with her own London-born daughter calling her ‘Mum’ even when she could speak the language effectively herself and was fully capable of calling her ‘Mama.’ She was a good mother. In fact, she was Mother of the goddamn century. Because that’s the kind of parent you are when your child is sick. That’s the kind of person you have to be when your child is dying.

She was kind and caring and doting and funny and always tried to give her everything. She was also the kind of mother who would scream and hit her when she said or did the wrong thing. She was unbelievably neurotic and self-possessed and superstitious and selfish. So fucking selfish. She’d spent all those years fighting to keep Rey alive only to leave her alone.

***

Mum had her first seizure in the house in November, eight months after Rey had gone into remission for the second and final time. Two months after Rey had started her undergraduate degree. She was living on campus four to five days a week, but still came home on Fridays for Church, food, follow-ups, and laundry. She was still set on pursuing her health sciences degree, and Mum had made a point to drill it into her head not to discuss her high school journey with her classmates. Wear modest tops to hide the scars, wear your hair in a bun to hide the remaining bald spots. Don’t date, and boze moj don’t take any boys into your room. You have a goal, you need to focus on school, and they do not need to know about what happened. Don’t let anyone feel sorry for you.

But one day you can tell your patients. Because it has to mean something. This was another mantra that had been echoed through their little apartment for years. Rey was unsure which one of them had been the first one to say it. Of course God gave you your illnesses, so that one day you could go back and help children like yourself.

It was a Friday, seven o’clock, the sky pitch-black and a fresh layer of snow lining the steps leading up to the apartment. She found her on the floor, mid-convulsion, eyes bulging, unresponsive to the world around her. Something clicked, somewhere…somehow…and she called 9-1-1.

They spent four wordless hours in the ER that night. Mum would later quietly confess to the oncologists that she’d been having intermittent seizures and excruciating migraines for the past four months. All while Rey was either at school, desperately cramming to catch up on her missed work, or in the hospital for follow-ups and treatments. Rey was not privy to that initial conversation. The oncologist would share that information with her later, while asking her a barrage of questions about her mother’s other symptoms.

She knew, Rey rationalized. She must’ve known. Typical brain tumour symptoms. They’d both seen it many times over.

She never confronted Mum about it.

Rey didn’t share what was going on in her life with Finn and Rose at McMaster that winter. She didn’t give them any real explanations as to why she kept having to leave campus early to drive to Coruscant Hospital. Just that she had appointments. Sometimes hers, oncology, gynaecology, any number of things…but pretty soon it was all Mum’s. Her own appointments were more often than not just formalities and check-ins. Mum’s tumour was inoperable and growing by the day, pushing against her skull like a hydraulic press and leaving her in near-constant writhing bouts of pain, increasingly dependent on the kinds of narcotics that often made the news for being the culprit in horrific overdoses. Turned out that terminally ill adults got very different kinds of freebies.

Rey didn’t tell them because in her mind that was something that you only did with people in your close community. And theirs’ was already so tight-knit and suffocating that she couldn’t find it in herself to add anyone else into the mix. Least of all two people who, in her mind, would one day go off to medical school like her, probably outside of Hamilton, and never speak to her again.

The doctors knew, because it was their job, and Rey wondered if also because it was a morbidly fascinating set of cases. The teenager who’d recently entered remission from her second round of a mystery stomach cancer was now the sole caregiver for her mother who had just been declared terminal. Interestingly, neither cancer was necessarily considered heritable. What a cruel joke on the part of the universe. Her still-living peers haunting the oncology clinics and wards knew, but there was little to say to her other than “that’s rough buddy.”

Everyone at Church knew, because that’s what happened when you were a single immigrant mother raising your very sick teenage daughter. They were more than happy to flock to the pair like a flock of wild crows with their flowers and brandy and sweet treats and holy bread and oils when Rey was wasting away, and they did the same thing when word got around about Mira being on her deathbed.

Finn and Rose found out the truth one night when she stumbled into the residence on a Saturday at ten o’clock at night, slurring in English and broken Serbian, laughing and sobbing about the dumb shit that her priest had said at the funeral service. She’d stolen a bottle of plum brandy, rakija, from the funeral dinner someone else had arranged and had already downed half of it. It had a cross on it, and she joked that she was definitely going to hell for taking it off-property.

Rose and Finn were certainly shocked and offended at the fact that she hadn’t told them anything about her family, even if they’d expressed it as politely as they could. Rey was too drunk and manic to care about their feelings. She was just as happy to talk to a wall. Just so happened that these two assholes were her hall-mates who sometimes called her their “friend.”

Rose held her hair back wordlessly while she hurled into the foul toilets, while Finn stood guard outside the door. The floor fellow on duty came to offer help, but the two said something to convince her to leave them be.

She wished sometimes that it was easier to black out from alcohol consumption. Maybe then she could live in denial and spare herself the shame and embarrassment of knowing the things she said that night. For months, years even, she sometimes found herself questioning if they had chosen to be friends with her only because of how pathetic she was.

When Rose finally got her to stop vomiting and get some bread and water back into her system, Rey found it in herself to tell her a bit about the past four years of her life. Rose looked pained at the end, whispered sorry, and that set something off in Rey that made her start laughing and sobbing all over again. When she came down and began to behave less like a dangerously hammered individual and more like a giggly buzzed teenager, Rose offered to help Rey change out of her modest long-sleeved black cotton dress—now stained with vomit—and into her pyjamas.

It was vivid, this fragment of the memory. The way that Rey started laughing wryly, almost maniacally, the way that villains and tragic heroes laugh when they look upon the disaster at their feet and realize that their lives have been nothing but a cruel cruel joke.

“Ya know, it was my mother’s funeral dress.” She finally said with a pained smile. “I outgrew mine.”

When she was fifteen and convinced that she was going to be dead in a matter of months, she did perhaps one of the most insanely morbid things that any teenager could ever do. She asked Mum to accompany her to the mall to pick out two black dresses: one for herself to wear in her casket, and one for her mother to wear to the service. Why she’d complied, she still had no idea.

Mum never wore her dress. It is, in fact, tacky to dress the dead one in black, and Rey had  gained so much weight after chemo that it was the only church-appropriate black outfit that would fit her.

***

The church raised enough money to cover the funeral costs and then some while she waited for the bank to release the life insurance money and the rest of Mum’s savings. She moved out of residence a week later. She couldn’t bear the thought of that apartment being left untouched, regardless of whether she could afford to continue paying rent. A couple of months after the funeral, she decided that she no longer had it in her to continue attending mass. Not long after, she stopped visiting the cemetery. Sometimes, people would recognize her at grocery stores. So, she started shopping a bit further away from home.

She requested to shorten her official name to Rey on her academic records. It took some time, but she had been using it as a nickname for years, and the sound of Teodora—regardless of who was pronouncing it—was starting to leave a bitter taste in her mouth. She shortened her surname to Johnson only, because it was a bit easier for the doctors to say…and Mum wasn’t there to correct their mispronunciations.

***

Ben and Rey did not speak a word to each other for two weeks. She wished she could say that she didn’t care. But that would’ve been a bold-faced lie. She often spent entire evenings pouring over her phone, drafting out texts and deleting them again and again, promising herself that she would say all of those things in person but not knowing if she’d ever have the chance to erase what she’d done.

She’d forgotten how much harder studying could be on her own. Everything seemed to take longer. She often found herself stopping mid-chapter or practice test to take deep breaths and observe the people around her in the library. Heads down, headphones on, all off in their own worlds. A sea of people, none of whom she could talk to.

During lectures, Rey would sit at the front of the room, while Ben would linger on the way in and sit towards the back. She often found herself turning around, hoping and praying that he would meet her eyes and—

And then she would stop, just before he seemed to be looking up. And what?

Instantly, she would turn around and sink into her chair in shame. Then what? She didn’t even know what she really wanted to say to him. She wanted to apologize fifty times over for hitting him. The memory of her hand cracking across his skin still caused a shudder if she dwelled on it too much. She’d always sworn that she would never, ever do it to anyone, not like it had been done to her.

She wanted to apologize for hurting him so deeply with her words, for accusing and insulting him to the point that he’d admitted something so dark.

But she couldn’t do those things. Because she was so utterly sure, that he would never forgive her for it.

If she’d been in his position…she wouldn’t.

Her mind was plagued with thoughts of him, with regrets about everything. She found herself unable to stomach her lunches, incapable of talking to her friends, and began to recede into her corners more and more, only putting on smiling faces for her attendings and patients.

She cycled through regret and melancholy, and a dull anger that pounded through her head. He’d lied to her, and she was still angry no matter how much she’d tried to move past it.

But she still missed him all the same. Even in such a short time, she yearned for him to touch her again, hold her with his firm yet gentle grip, allow her to be herself without fear of exposure. She’d allowed herself to start casting off her layers of armour, and without him she suddenly felt cold and dangerously exposed. 

Rose and Finn were still off in their own world, but they would occasionally check in as they noticed her making herself increasingly scarce. She didn’t tell them about what happened between her and Ben. Too much information, too much that they had no business knowing, and they didn’t deserve that burden.

Finn noticed that she wasn’t going to the gym. She told him that she was staying to help Dr. Djarin with research. Which was half-true. She was trying to gather sources for a small systematic review of the side effects of dexamethasone use during chemotherapy infusions. But also…she didn’t feel like working out. She didn’t feel like doing much of anything outside of schoolwork.

Some nights, she would get home late. The temperature had rapidly dropped after the day with Luke, and was now averaging five degrees with dreary clouds. She had a hole in her winter jacket, but didn’t fix it. Sometimes the wind would whistle through the hole, giving her a full-body shudder.

A couple of times, she found herself rummaging through her cabinets and pausing a moment too long, her fingers lingering on an old bottle of brandy. She was ashamed of how close she came to taking it down.

Ben continued to avoid her like the plague. 

Perhaps her classmates were beginning to notice how the two of them, former enemies who’d become joined at the hip for well over a month, had suddenly grown so distant.

Jess must’ve noticed. She came to sit beside Rey on their lunch break. Not to talk, just to eat.

Rey left a few minutes later. She wasn’t hungry.

***

The day after the pediatric shelf exam, Rey took an extra call shift to work with Dr. Djarin one-on-one. He was more than happy to oblige. Their project was coming along well, and they both knew that she would benefit from spending more time working in the oncology ward.

Technically, the medical students had the day off, but she arrived at the hospital bright and early at 8am.

Rounds came first. Eight kids were staying with them as inpatients, either because they were recovering from resections, had complications with chemo, or were on antibiotics for febrile neutropenia. Rey’s constantly-racing thoughts were sometimes broken by small realizations. Oh, the sleeping five year old boy on a meropenem infusion was staying in the same room that she once had to herself. His name was Arlo. His parents spent twenty minutes speaking to Dr. Djarin, while she shrank back in the corner, a ghost accompanying him and unable to provide her input.

She just kept staring at Arlo, his eyes closed peacefully, snoozing away.

Dr. Djarin didn’t have clinic that day, so after noon, he encouraged Rey to take some time to finish her notes, study, and wait for consults or emergencies. They would round on the kids one more time at four.

Her fingers seemed to move on their own accord as she completed the notes. She had a brief thought, that the tediousness of this job was…an inconvenience. Medicine residents, whether internal or pediatric, generally seemed to identify the emphasis of longitudinal care and problem-solving as their reasons for pursuing those paths.

Rey let out a weary sigh as she finished her last progress note. The room around her was silent. Note-taking was a part of every part of medicine…but this just felt like scut work. It was something she could happily live without. Or, at least, she would love to do as little of it as possible.

Before studying, Rey opened her email for the first time that day. And immediately, she felt her chest tighten.

Camp Trailblazers sent frequent emails to volunteers, offering further opportunities to participate in activities, and requesting donations from anyone who could give them.

But there was another type of email that she dreaded receiving. Right at the top was a message from Avar, her camp manager from the summer. The subject line read Best Friends Forever—for counsellors.

 Rey forced herself to take a steady breath, but it suddenly became very difficult with the tightness in her chest and dizziness engulfing her head. She felt nauseous, she was going to throw up…but she swallowed back bile, and then waited for it to pass. Thankfully, it did, just like the last time. But that just left her sitting there, staring at the email and wishing she hadn’t seen it.

But it didn’t go away. And the longer she stared, the more sure she became that it never would.

Somehow, she found it in herself to switch to autopilot. She opened the email, read it. We’re very sorry to announce that camper Oli Delaney passed away […] as one of his counsellors, we wanted to send this message to you in advance, and ask if you have any pictures or statements that you would like to share with his family.

She’d last seen Oli a little over a year ago. At the time, he’d had a full head of curly blonde hair. Precocious kid, very short even for a ten-year old. Always kept the other boys in the cabin awake well into the night. He’d been her partner on the high ropes course.

Her fingers moved, her lungs drew in the dry air. She found the pictures in her phone, in the album labelled Cancer Camp. She sent them, with a short message to the family about how funny, clever, and brave their son was. How much he thrived at camp, with the swimming and archery and painting. She would remember the boy and miss him dearly. Just like the other ‘best friends forever’ she’d taken care of over the years.

The other memories of him with his weaknesses, fear, anxieties and doubts, she did not share. Not the time he bragged about how he’d reach the top of the high ropes course, only to become paralyzed and tearful halfway up the rope ladder, waiting for her to carry her down, while she was trembling and breathless herself. Not when he saw the scar on her collarbone and loudly asked what she’d had, before showing off his own freshly healed mark and proudly declaring that he was only seeing his oncologist every three months now. Or when he started complaining about chest and stomach pains again and nearly threw up over the side of their canoe before she paddled him back to shore. He’d made her promise not to tell anyone. He wanted to enjoy the week.

Rey hid those precious memories away with the others, then turned off her phone and composed herself. One deep breath, then another. Then she quickly checked her phone.

2:45pm.

Still on-call. She needed to focus.

Unfortunately, this proved nearly impossible within the subsequent hour. The quiet gnawed at her, triggering waves of shivers and goosebumps on her bare arms that made her have to take frequent breaks from her studying. Would her co-counsellors be sending her messages soon? Would they ask her for more pictures from camp?

She refreshed her email for the fiftieth time. Her foot was tapping, a nervous rhythm that echoed against the walls.

When her phone began to blare with a page, Rey nearly thanked God for the change in pace.

She felt her blood run cold when she saw the text.

Dr Djarin: Meet me in ER, very sick child coming by EMS, febrile neutropenia.

She sprinted to meet him so quickly that she felt ready to collapse at the ER entrance.

Febrile neutropenia was a frightening experience that cancer survivors knew well, particularly those who had gone through chemotherapy. It was a horrifying combination: the white blood cell supply stripped bare by chemotherapy, and infection by a pathogen. Virus, fungus, but often bacteria that burrowed their way into the bloodstream through the port. She’d only experienced it once, after she’d attempted to go to in-person classes while in the midst of chemo. A classmate who’d claimed they were just “getting over a cold” passed on a virus to her that her body had been fundamentally unequipped to handle. She’d wound up in the hospital for two weeks on heavy-duty IV antibiotics, and could barely walk for several weeks afterwards.

She found Dr. Djarin talking in hushed tones at the front desk, and awkwardly took position nearby, waiting for him to stop.

He nodded to her approvingly before concluding the conversation. A quick I love you, and Mom and I will be late.

“Sorry about that,” He sighed, putting the phone into his pocket.

Rey nodded. “You said this kid has febrile neutropenia?”

“Yeah,” He said grimly, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “Dan’s twelve, he’s been a patient of mine for a couple of years now for neuroblastoma. He gets a combination of treatments, so this is not his first time…” He gave a defeated-sounding sigh that made every hair on Rey’s arms stand on end. “But recently we found some new mets, so we intensified his chemo regimen. His mother called me a few minutes ago.” He stopped, then glanced at the corridor leading to the ambulance bay. A few paramedics pushed past, nearly sprinting, with a patient on a gurney. When the pair saw that it was an elderly man, they exhaled in unison.

As soon as Dr. Djarin realized that they would have a few minutes to kill, he turned to Rey and began a quick pimping session. She found it in herself to give a half-hearted explanation of the procedure, not so much based on her studying but her vague memories of her teenage years.

He forgave her for not knowing the exact thresholds, and explained that the definition necessitated a neutrophil count of less than 1500, but the number could dip below 100 in severe cases.

He then quietly explained that Dan’s last recorded neutrophil account had been 400, almost a week ago.

“Din!” A nurse suddenly exclaimed, jogging down the hall to meet them. She was tall, olive-skinned, with long brown hair tinged with grey. “The paramedics are here to see you, we’re putting him in Red 7. Last blood pressure reading was eighty over fifty, and I’ve already called ICU.”

“Thank you,” He said. Motioning to Rey, he began pacing towards the corresponding room. She followed behind briskly.

“Rey, this will not be a case where I can do much teaching in the moment. It might get very intense, and he’s hemodynamically unstable. So just stay behind me, okay?”

She nodded and pursed her lips.

“And we need N95s,” He said, smoothly pulling two off the wall and handing one to her. “We don’t know what kind of infection he has, and we don’t want to give him anything new.”

Just as Rey tightened the top of the mask around her nose, she saw the paramedics turn the corner, three of them holding a stretcher.

On it, there was a young boy, with close-cut curly black hair and dark brown skin. He was clearly in distress, panting and wheezing, sweat dripping from his brows, with nasal prongs in to deliver him the oxygen that he was struggling to inhale.

Rey watched the outside of the room from the corner of the bed, and saw someone lingering behind the stretcher. It was a young black woman, perhaps in her thirties, with her hair loose and long below her shoulders, a thick bomber jacket tucked under one arm, while she clutched a purse under the other. She turned, for a moment, met Rey’s eyes, and she knew that this was Dan’s mother.

Just as she watched her step forward into the room, eyes wide as she said “Danny?,” all hell broke loose.

The paramedics, nurses, Djarin, worked together to move the boy onto the hospital bed. In a flash, a new character appeared, someone who must’ve been from ICU. The team worked together to set up monitors, which immediately indicated a frightening picture. Hypotension, low oxygen saturation, tachycardia…it was bad.

They got Dan a facemark and started giving him ten litres a minute of oxygen. His saturations barely budged. Someone yelled something about an arterial blood gas, another asked if they had an ICU bed available.

Rey watched from the edge of the bed, paralyzed, not realizing for a minute that his mother had come to stand next to her. She leaned over the bed and began rubbing his foot affectionately, murmuring “You’re gonna be okay baby. You’re gonna be okay.”

His oxygen requirements grew.

They got a second IV into his arm, but it was so big and his entire body shuddered in a way that suggested to Rey that he would’ve been screaming if he had the energy.

He was slipping. And they knew it.

His mother held tight, thankfully having the sense not to interfere with their work. The moment, however, that a nurse moved away from his arm, she shuffled to fill the space and hold his hand.

Rey blinked, then took a deep breath. Djarin was leading resuscitation efforts, but she could help. She could help with this one thing.

She found a chair in the corner of the small alcove and brought it to the mother. Biting her lip, she tapped her on the shoulder, and leaned in to whisper, “You should sit down.” She pushed the chair under her.

The woman gave her a tight smile and a nod, and obliged.

Rey lifted her hand, wondering if it would be right to put it on her shoulder. Offer something physical. She closed her fist and held it by her side. “They’re helping him out with his breathing,” She said. “Dr. Djarin is excellent.”

The woman looked at her and nodded briskly. “I know,” She said. “I know.”

Rey shrank back nervously. “I’m here if you need anything,” She said. “Just let me know.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “But I’ll stay with my son.”

Rey gave her the space that she needed.

3:15.

Dan’s respiratory rate was getting low, and his oxygen saturations were dropping again. 90, 89, 88.

Someone said something about preparing a norepinephrine infusion. Djarin had a hushed conversation with an ICU doctor at the head of the bed, only a couple of feet away from Dan’s face.

Rey blinked as the events continued to play around her, like she was trapped in a dream where her movements were inhibited by honey. And before she knew it, they were getting ready to intubate.

That was the point where Dan’s mother started to break. She clearly understood what the implications of his illness would be, but hearing in the moment that they would be doing this for his own safety…she nearly threw herself over him in tears, kissing his hand and telling him that she loved him.

It was quick, watching him go limp. The ICU doctor intubated quickly, and then transferred the monitors and unlocked the bed for the ICU trip.

Rey lingered behind Dr. Djarin like a long shadow. Her heart was pounding, was there anything that she could do to help? No.

Dan’s mother—Aya, she heard someone say gently—walked next to the bed, still gripping her son’s hand, then only parted briefly when they went into his ICU room.

“What’s going to happen now?” Aya asked Dr. Djarin after they got him stabilized.

Rey was standing beside Dr. Djarin as he glanced at Dan’s bed. “We still have to see,” He said quietly. “The important thing is that he’s here, he’s being taken care of. We’ll get cultures, and try to wean him off the ventilator once his numbers improve.”

“You’ll try?” Aya’s voice was somehow shaky and hoarse all at once. She was crossing her arms tight over her chest.

“Aya,” Dr. Djarin said gently. “We will do the best that we can, but Dan’s prognosis will be guarded. And this chemo is his last chance.”

And with those words, Aya’s tears began flowing freely. She let out a moan and cupped her mouth in her hand, her eyes scrunching with horror and grief.

Rey took a step back, and for a moment…she heard a different sound of crying. One that she recognized as Mum’s. Her hand suddenly grew warm, and she hugged herself and shuddered.

Dr. Djarin said something else to Aya, his voice kind and measured as her emotions overwhelmed her. But all Rey could do was stare at the boy, intubated in bed behind them.

He’s going to die.

If not today, if not from the infection, then he would die from the cancer slowly eating away at his body, resistant to all weapons at their disposal.

He’s going to die.

The world swam around her. She wasn’t sure where she was, where was her mentor, the mother, the son, the other doctors and nurses and therapists. All she could hear was beeping, and her eyes and cheeks and chest were growing hot, it was all happening so fast.

A hand on her shoulder made her flinch, and then she opened her eyes and looked up nervously.

“Rey,” He whispered, leaning down so that only she would hear. “I will take care of this. Go take a good break.”

She didn’t need to be told twice.

She left to wander the quiet corners of the hospital, her head hanging low and arms tense at her sides. Her fingers were tingling, and the longer she balled them into fists, the more she felt like pins were running through them. To any onlooker, she probably looked as though she was on the verge of tears. They could draw whatever conclusions they wanted, she thought. It didn’t matter. She just didn’t want to be around people. She couldn’t go back to the wards yet.

She’d fucked up, hadn’t she? Would Dr. Djarin think that she couldn’t cope? Was this…it?

No…no. She couldn’t be thinking like that.

You don’t have what it takes to do my job.

The moment flashed again in Rey’s mind’s eye. She grimaced suddenly, feeling a something in her stomach begin to tug at her.

She couldn’t let Luke get to her. He was a bitter old man who’d spent years putting on a kind facade while resenting his patients and abusing his students. He didn’t know her. His words meant nothing.

Rey paced the hospital corridor whilst grumbling to herself, shaking her head and trying to erase the image of him sitting in front of her, simultaneously in his office and his home. Get out. Get out. Get OUT.

She lifted her head right in the nick of time, nearly running face-first into someone pushing a large bed out of a door.

Rey’s eyes widened, and she shrank back in embarassment. “Sorry,” She murmured, though she was unsure if they could hear her. An older man was pushing a bed from the floor, likely a porter, and he paid her no heed. She caught a glimpse of long wavy blonde hair attached to a head that was turned away from her.

Rey looked up, and realized that she was standing in front of the entrance to the operating rooms.

She dropped her gaze. The double doors were still open, but starting to move. And without a moment’s hesitation, she walked forward and slipped in just before they shut behind her.

It was almost four o’clock, so the bustling operating rooms were starting to wind down for the day. She stealthily covered her hair with a bouffant as she entered, then slowly weaved through porters, residents, nurses, and staff. She lingered briefly on a couple of open doors, watching as residents extubated patients and moved them from the tables onto stretchers. Most of them were strangers, and though she could’ve sworn Reva walked past her at one point, she couldn’t be sure.

As she turned the corner, however, she was stunned to see a familiar frame. A tall woman, her back turned, with a fuchsia scrub cap, was leaning against the wall, checking her phone.

Rey stood quietly, unsure of whether to say hello, when she put her phone away and looked up. As their eyes met, hers seemed to widen ever so slightly. Dr. Holdo then blinked and furrowed her brow, as if she didn’t remember who Rey was. Which, she figured was reasonable. She hadn’t seen her in over a month and likely barely remembered her in the sea of medical students and residents.

But then she nodded her head briefly. “Hello Rey,” She said softly. Rey noticed crinkles forming at the corners of her eyes; she was smiling under the mask. “It’s been a while. Are you on call with us this evening?”

Rey swallowed nervously and lifted her chin. Own it, own it. “Pediatrics. It’s home call, but I wanted to stay in the hospital for a bit…” She looked at her feet, then back to the anesthesiologist. “Do you think I could join you?”

Holdo nodded, “Of course, you’re always welcome. I’m getting ready for another case, it’s a lymph node biopsy in the neck,” She pointed to the side of her neck, just by her jugular, to demonstrate. “We are still setting up, but how about you go chat with the patient in the meantime? Let me know what you think. I just have to run to do an IV.”

Rey lifted her gaze behind Holdo, where, two doors down, she could see a stretcher. The angle of the bed was up, and the head was turned away from her. Nevertheless, she could see a blue bouffant poking out at the top, and a nervous hand trailing the side rails. She nodded to Dr. Holdo and slowly paced forward. With each step, she forced herself to straighten her spine, find a smile under her mask. Hands in pockets—no, maybe out—as she reached the side of the stretcher and saw the patient.

She offered an awkward wave, and immediately felt her shoulders drop with nervousness when the girl did not reciprocate. She simply glared at her and sighed, leaning against the pillow.

“Hi,—” She awkwardly stole a glance at the chart sitting by her feet. “Siobhan. I’m Rey, one of the medical students. I’m helping out your anesthesiologist, Dr. Holdo, she just asked if I could chat with you here and get some information before your surgery.”

Siobhan grimaced and straightened herself in the bed, crossing her arms with a small hmph. “Sure, whatever.”

Rey made a show to open the chart, as she had done with several patients on her rotation. “You’re…” She swallowed and looked back. “Seventeen now?”

Siobhan nodded wordlessly.

“And you’re here for the neck biopsy, right?”

Again, she nodded.

Rey hesitated, then took a breath, closed the chart, and edged in closer to Siobhan, leaning her elbows against the railing. She pulled her mask down, only slightly, to ensure that she could be heard. “Mind if I ask why you’re getting the biopsy?”

Siobhan’s eyebrow quirked. “I thought you all knew.”

Rey shook her head. “Honestly, I just got here. That’s why I’m asking.”

Siobhan angled her head and pointed to several large lumps on the side of her neck. They looked like a cluster of grapes sitting just under her skin. “These have been growing for a few months now…my Mom finally made me come here, and suddenly they want a biopsy to…” She dropped her gaze, her voice low and betraying a quiver. “You know…see what it might be.”

Rey closed her eyes and let out a long exhale. She couldn’t be sure if Siobhan was saying that because she actually knew what was at the top of the list of diagnoses, or if she was genuinely unsure.

Rey knew. She could already feel it.

Siobhan, on first glance, appeared to be any disinterested teenager, but the quiver suggested that there was something else to it.

“Is this your first time getting surgery?” She tried to add a hint of humour to her voice, but when Siobhan bit her lip and shook her head vigorously, she felt a brief tightness across her chest.

“Okay,” She said. “Do you know if anyone in your family has ever had a bad reaction to anesthetic?”

“I don’t think so,” said Siobhan. “Mom said she threw up a lot after her last surgery, but beyond that, nothing.”

Rey worked her way through a fairly standard, albeit haphazard exam. Luckily, Siobhan was a pretty healthy kid. No cardiac or respiratory disease, no allergies, no food that day, and she’d only briefly dabbled in vaping at school. She was a very athletic kid; the setter on her school’s volleyball team. The team had been gearing up for provincial championships when she started developing the lumps and associated bouts of fatigue. And easy bruising. And rapid weight loss. Siobhan had described the changes to her while biting her lip, her voice breaking at one point.

After they finished the exam, Rey looked up, hoping that Holdo would be back to relieve her. But she didn’t show. And the surgeons didn’t seem to be there either.

Normally, she would’ve gone inside to be with her attending after doing the exam, but…that would leave her alone.

So, stall.

And stall, she did. She asked Siobhan about her classes, what her plans were after high school, and what she liked to do for fun. She was an English nerd, hoping to one day become a writer or publisher, and had already begun preparing applications to UofT. She enjoyed Regency-era romances and horror movies. They discovered that they were both fans of the same romance author and shared a laugh about the upcoming book.

After what felt like half an hour, they ran out of things to talk about, but Siobhan was clearly opening up. Her movements seemed less forced, her expressions more dynamic. She was clearly comfortable in a way that she had not been when Rey had arrived. And though part of Rey was wondering where on earth the bosses were, she couldn’t say that she minded the girl’s company.

“Do you have any questions for me—us?”

Siobhan looked to consider it for a long moment, then scratched the side of her neck. “Do you…like do you know what it’s like?”

Rey blinked.

“The surgery.” She seemed to shrink into herself with each word, bundled in white blankets and blue gowns. “I don’t know, it’s stupid—”

“No, no—” Rey said, returning to her side. “I’ve had…” She stopped herself, then said—“A few surgeries before. Not this, but I know what it’s like. What part were you wondering about?”

She considered for a moment, then said, “Just, what will happen when we go in?”

The corridor was silent, save for the two of them.

How long had it been since her last surgery? Five years now? Six? She didn’t actually remember what had transpired, but she could recall enough. Her body had certainly archived the memories.

She turned on one heel and leaned against the side rail, so that the two of them were looking down the corridor in the same direction.

“We’re going to bring you into that room,” She said, pointing to the door. “You’ll get an IV, it’s going to sting, and then Dr. Holdo will put a mask on your face to give your lungs extra oxygen. Fair warning—” She tilted her head, stifling a nervous chuckle. “It smells pretty strange. But it’ll just be the plastic. With kids, they usually add a flavour and then pump a gas through that smells much worse.”

Siobhan chuckled. “Perks of grade twelve, I guess.”

Rey matched her laugh. “She’ll give you the medication, then you will fall asleep in seconds. Before you know it, you’ll wake up in recovery.”

“I watched a video of surgery,” murmured Siobhan suddenly. “Are they really going to put a tube down my throat?”

Rey nodded.

Siobhan’s eyes widened. She was going pale.

“It’s okay,” She said, and before she knew it she was patting the girl’s free hand. “You won’t ever know it was there. They take it out right before you wake up. And if you have a sore throat after, go buy some lozenges and take them for a couple of days.”

Siobhan calmed after she explained it, then stopped and seemed to consider all of the information she’d just received.

“Dumb question,” She began.

Rey smiled. “I promise it’s not dumb.”

“Will you be there?”

She nodded.

“Like, the whole time. My friend told me that everyone just dips right after the surgery’s done. What do you do if something happens?”

“Siobhan,” Rey said softly, holding her hand tight. “Nothing’s going to happen. We’ll be there the whole time.”

Lie or not, she meant it in the moment.

Siobhan searched her eyes, and when she seemed to find an answer, she relaxed and gave a pained smile.

Moments later, the door to the operating room burst open, nearly giving Rey a heart attack. She let out a small yelp and jumped back as a nurse she did not recognize emerged and began asking Siobhan her own questions, many of them identical to Rey’s. Double-check everything, that was standard.

Soon after, she was startled by the feeling of a hand on her shoulder. Holdo had snuck back in just behind her. “You girls are ready to go?” She looked to her, Siobhan, and the nurse. All three nodded in unison.

“Perfect,” She said, then turned to Siobhan. “Sorry about the delay, I’m Dr. Holdo. You’ve met my lovely medical student here, we’ll be putting you to sleep for your surgery today. I still have to ask you some questions when we go in, but before that—anything you’d like to ask me?”

Siobhan shook her head and lifted her chin to Rey. “Nope, she explained everything really really well.”

“Excellent,” said Holdo, smiling warmly at them both. “Then let’s not delay this any further.”

The next fifteen minutes passed in a blur. Rey focused her energy entirely on Siobhan, explaining each monitor, holding her other hand while Dr. Holdo inserted the IV, and held the mask on her face as she pushed the drugs.

Distantly, she was sure that Holdo was giving little warnings too. Something about how the first two medications were going to make her feel relaxed.

Beep. Beep.

“Everything’s okay,” Rey said encouragingly to Siobhan.

Siobhan murmured something under the mask. Rey frowned, then watched as, in a split second, she blinked hard. When she opened her eyes again, they were blooming with fresh tears.

“Mhhmm—will y—”

In one quick motion, Rey lifted the mask enough to hear her voice.

“Stay…” She murmured uncertainly, her eyelids fluttering, growing heavy. “Stay with me…”

“I promise,” said Rey, lifting one hand to squeeze her shoulder affectionately. “You’ll blink, and it’ll be over.”

Siobhan seemed to find the strength then to nod, just before her eyes fluttered shut and she stopped breathing.

Holdo continued to move through the intubation with a fluidity and calmness that Rey appreciated. She barely realized how much her heart was pounding, how much it ached for this poor frightened girl. They walked through the intubation and setup together. When she was ready for the procedure and the bed was turned to the correct spot, one of the nurses left to call in the ENT surgeon, Dr. Bridger.

Rey stepped back nervously as he entered the room. He had a senior resident in tow, Tristan, Rey thought his name was. He was a tall man, seemingly very close in age to his boss, with a square jaw and bright yellow scrub cap. He and his staff went to mark up the patient and position her head, before they turned around in unison to see her.

“Oh, Amilyn, I didn’t realize you had someone with you today.”

Holdo was preoccupied with something on the ventilator screen. She lifted her head impassively, gesturing to Rey. “This is Rey, she’s a third year medical student joining me for this case.”

Rey waved awkwardly. Maybe they just hadn’t recognized her.

Dr. Bridger looked up to Rey. “Oh, yes, you were with us in September, weren’t you…” He paused, as if to size her up. Then, his eyes fell to her name tag. “Right, Rey. You should come feel this.”

Rey reached over and put two fingers to the open spot on Siobhan’s neck, and was startled to find it to be rock hard. She felt around a few more spots, and found it was all a similar texture. She had said that it wasn’t painful, but for all of the spots to be so hard and non-mobile…her stomach dropped at the realization. She looked to Dr. Bridger. He was already nodding to himself, already knowing what she was about to say. “It’s a nasty one. She’d been complaining about it for months.” He paused. “You liked ENT, didn’t you? Do you want to scrub in?”

Rey met Tristan’s eyes. He gave her an approving nod. He was probably happy to have someone willing to retract the skin flaps for him. Then, she turned to Dr. Holdo. “Is it okay with you?”

“I see no problem with it,” She said casually, returning to calibrate the machine.

Rey gave Dr. Bridger a quick nod, feeling her heart begin to race and something cramp up in the centre of her stomach. She went to get a gown and gloves while the others covered Siobhan’s eyes and positioned her head and neck for the procedure. A few minutes later, she was standing on the opposite side of his bed, her hands folded across Siobhan’s stomach. She shifted, slightly, hoping to alleviate the still-present pain in her stomach. She wasn’t keeping track of the days, was it time for her period again? She made a mental note to take her Advil as soon as the procedure ended. A small part of her felt shame for being so…eager to touch this poor girl’s neck, not twenty minutes after she’d helped her go under and promised to stay with her. But, the other selfish part of her wanted to join in. She already knew she wasn’t going to be applying to ENT…but that meant that she might never get another chance to participate in this sort of procedure.

And she needed a distraction. More than anything, she needed a distraction.

Over the next hour, Rey spent most of the time holding the skin flaps apart and peeking over the edge of Siobhan’s neck, searching for one of the lymph nodes. It wasn’t easy to stretch her own neck that far, however, and pretty soon she found herself too sore continue. She pulled her head back and tilted it from side to side, groaning with every little crack.

Bridger’s eyes rose to hers, and for a moment she could have sworn she heard him chuckle. “You’re feeling it in your neck?”

“Yeah,” She sighed, then tightened her grip on the retractors. “How do you guys manage?”

“Oh, we don’t. This job does a number on your spine. If you pay attention, you’ll see that every ENT, neuro, and plastic surgeon has a hunchback.” Tristan said, not taking his eyes off the surgical site. He stopped, then went in to cauterize a spot and wipe the blood away.

This time, Bridger actually laughed, clear and heartily, then gave her a wink. “It’s really not that bad. You just need to add some yoga into your weekly routine.”

Rey chuckled in reply, though she wasn’t fully willing to admit that she was still very wary about the prospect of doing a surgical specialty. Between the rounds and intensity of the staff, it wasn’t for her.

“Have you found the node?” She asked curiously.

Dr. Bridger pointed his scalpel to a spot that she couldn’t quite see. “Got one right here. It’s very superficial, which makes our jobs easier, but—“ He whistled to himself and started removing it from the bunch. “I have to say, this is a big one. I can’t imagine the prognosis will be very good.”

Rey nervously shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “So what will you do after this?”

He furrowed his brow, then looked down and removed the node from its place. In one smooth motion, he dropped it into the scrub nurse’s tray and returned Rey’s gaze.  “We’ll have to send it to pathology, where they’ll figure out what type of lymphoma it is and pass on the results to oncology. But beyond that, we can’t do anything else for her, surgically speaking.” Then, he turned it over quickly and murmured under his breath, “Probably non-Hodgkin’s.”

Rey bristled at the mention of the cancer type. “You can’t do anything else for her?”

Tristan immediately stepped in to dry the spot that he’d left behind. He spoke casually. “Not unless she develops thyroid mets.” There was a hint of something to his tone. A sliver of amusement. Perhaps it was him trying to be funny.

Rey bristled at the thought, her gaze drifting to the blue drape covering Siobhan’s face from the chin up. “So you can’t diagnose her? Will she just wait for pathology while this continues to grow?”

“Oh, absolutely not.” Said Dr. Bridger with an emphatic shake of his head. “Pathology will help the oncologists establish the prognosis and see if there are any distinct features or targetable mutations. But we can say that this is aggressively malignant without even looking at a report. And with how far into the mediastinum this has spread?” He glanced down at the girl’s covered chest and gave a defeated sigh. “This poor girl is going to be on chemo by Monday.”

***

While Rey was ripping off her gown, D’Arcy went to the intercom and called for a porter to come to ENT. A few minutes later they extubated the girl, the porter arrived, and the team got to work moving Siobhan onto the gurney and into the recovery room. She thanked Dr. Bridger and Tristan profusely for the opportunity, then followed the others out. At no point did she challenge their assumption that she was interested in ENT. This was a gift that they had given her, and she needed to be appropriately grateful.

She waited for a long time with Holdo and D’Arcy for Siobhan to come off the meds. At some point, she and Holdo wound up having a conversation about the neurological processes behind the extubation, and the pain relief methods that they would use once she left recovery.

At some point, while Rey was staring at the girl and leaning over the side of the bed, gently caressing her thumb, she heard Holdo say: “You know, Rey, you’ve shown a real aptitude for anaesthesiology.”

Startled, she started babbling something about how she didn’t really, Holdo was just a good teacher, she was only on her second rotation and figuring out what she wanted to do.

She seemed completely unfazed. “Well, if you ever consider applying to it, I would be more than happy to write you a reference letter.”

Rey laughed a little at that, then looked up into Holdo’s soft, sparkling gaze. Oh. Oh, she was serious.

“Thank you Dr. Holdo,” She said, though it came out as more of a whisper. She could feel her eyes starting to brim with tears.

The corners of Holdo’s eyes crinkled, and she gave Rey a comforting pat on the back. “You’re very welcome. And please, call me Amilyn.” Then, after a heartbeat, she clapped her hands and stepped back. “Well, that is the last one for a little while. You’re welcome to hang around, but you should take a nap before you’re called back to the wards. I’ll see you later.” She exchanged a polite nod with D’Arcy, then gave Rey a pat on the shoulder, a light wink, and turned to leave the recovery room.

Rey stayed with Siobhan for a long while after that, watching and listening as she continued to move between consciousness and unconsciousness, head bobbing over the water as she finally started gaining the strength back to swim out of the void. She slurred things in her delirium, things about her friends and how she’d already bought her prom dress, and her parents’ divorce. She asked to see her mom over and over again. Rey stood to her side, gently stroking her open palm and whispering that she was okay, she was safe, and the surgery was all over. You’re safe. You’re okay. It’s okay. 

When Siobhan finally became lucid enough to turn towards her, Rey nearly jumped.

Her eyelids fluttered open and shut. “’You…you’re the…from before…” She said hoarsely.

She nodded and smiled under the mask, suddenly feeling the tears begin to form behind her eyes. “I said I’d stay with you the whole time.”

Somehow, Siobhan found the strength to smile. Slowly, she entwined her fingers with Rey’s and squeezed them weakly. “Thank…you…” She whispered.

A small tear began to bloom, just in the corner of her eye. “Happy to do it,” She whispered, her voice betraying a tremble. “Now just…breathe”

Siobhan did exactly that. Her grip on Rey’s hand tightened ever so slightly.

“Was…was it…okay?”

Rey’s heart skipped a beat. “The surgery went well.” She said. “It’s done.” Then, she paused, biting her trembling lip. She was so thankful to still be wearing her mask so that Siobhan couldn’t see it. But it really didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to remember any of this in an hour. Her mother would come get her, she’d go home, sleep this off, and return in a couple of days to discuss the next steps with Dr. Djarin’s team.

She’s going to be on chemo by Monday.

“I have to go now,” Rey said, squeezing her hand one last time. “But it was really lovely to meet you.”

Siobhan nodded, smiled again, and her eyes fluttered closed. She stirred for a moment, then settled down and began to sleep on her own. Rey let go in that moment and started to take off her gloves, then looked up.

D’Arcy was staring right at her.

Rey, feeling her hands began to tremble more furiously, set them at her sides and straightened herself. “I should get back to the wards.”

She looked at her for a moment, her eyes glassy and unreadable, then offered a small nod. When she spoke, her voice was soft but sure.

“You’re going to be a great doctor.”

There was a thump in her chest, then a moment, however brief, where the world seemed to stand still. And then, just as quickly, time resumed, everything swam before her, and she felt something slam into her throat.

Rey shifted, opened her mouth a little and whispered a thanks, but bolted out of the room before D’Arcy could see her break down. When she made it into the change room and was sure that she was alone, she sat down, put her head in her hands, and began to cry.

The tears came, one after another in a slow stream, then fully unbidden and accompanied by waves of chills that made her curl up into herself more and more. With every torrent, it felt like a new unwanted image was flowing alongside it, then a bunch of them all smashed together until she could only see hazy memories of hands held and whispers of you’re safe and wake up wake up wake UP. Masked chittering phantoms, endlessly dripping IVs, foul sweet odours, hands caressing hers until they felt like vice grips, the ice in her veins that made her want to rip them out one by one until there was no more blood or medication or cutting and cameras and blinking monitors. And that fucking red light that kept beeping at the edge of her consciousness no matter how tightly she closed her eyes and wished that the world could go black.

It was a second, but it felt like an eternity. She was a child again, crying at the sight of the needle and masked faces, wishing she could start wailing and begging the doctors not to do it please don’t do it don’t touch me. But no one had been around to help calm her, not Mum, not anyone. And no one was with her now.

Her eyes were glassy and bloodshot in the locker room mirror. She couldn’t go back to the wards like this, not while her eyes were bloodshot and nose filled with snot and all she could think about was the everlasting beeping sound of the monitor and the sight of the Mum’s head in her hands and the wailing—the fucking wailing—she didn’t know what was worse, that or the stupid fucking beeping.

Rey sucked in a breath. She felt like she’d been stabbed in the chest. God she was so stupid, so fucking stupid. Luke was right, she couldn’t do this. She didn’t have it in her to put up with this trauma again and again every day.

She wished that she could go back and tell Luke what she’d yelled at Ben. He really didn’t understand, she wasn’t trying to be a hero. She’d only wanted to do medicine because she wanted to know. She wanted to learn and understand, and give meaning to her childhood. And if she couldn’t handle it, it meant that the thing that defined her childhood, the thing that almost killed her, what she watched kill friends and Mum…it meant nothing. There was no grand narrative, she knew, but even without the looming threat of destiny or plans, it was just…trauma.

And no matter what, Rey would be carrying it with her for the rest of her life.

She did not leave the locker room until she felt like she was out of tears to cry, then changed out of her surgery scrubs, waited for her eyes to lose the redness, and returned to the paediatrics ward.

Dr. Djarin did not ask her where she’d been or what she’d been doing, though she was sure that she saw his head tilt inquisitively in response to a sniffle behind her mask. She wondered if her eyes were still carrying a trace of the redness, maybe he’d noticed.

By the late evening, the tasks were handled, there were no new consults. He asked if she was alright, and when she nodded quietly, he gently suggested that she go home and sleep. He would call her if anything interesting came up later.

The sky was already black when she pulled out of the hospital parking lot. She could’ve taken a taxi home, and frankly she probably should’ve, given how emotionally spent she was. Driving was genuinely a challenge for her, and more than once she had to dig her nails into her palm to remind herself that she needed to drive.

When he car sputtered at a stoplight, she realized that should’ve taken the taxi. It was available to her at all times, not just for getting a ride home after 24 hour weekend call. The school had agreed to reimburse students and residents for it after both groups had heavily advocated for years. She’d heard that they had only accepted the cost five or six years ago, when a medical student had been paralyzed and forced to drop out after trying to drive home post-call. Their parents had threatened to sue the school. Several months prior, an internal medicine resident had gotten into an accident on their way home from call, and had died at the scene.

She whispered a silent Thank God to herself when the light flashed green and her engine growled with life.

Her racing thoughts slowed for a moment, and she wondered grimly how many incidents like those had truly been accidents. She recalled a passage from a neurosurgeon’s memoir, where he described his friend, a surgery resident who’d jumped off a roof after a particularly distressing intraoperative death. Or that ER drama that Jess had been obsessed with, where the two older men had taken turns talking each other off the side of the roof after managing dozens of patients injured or dead from a mass shooting.

Or Ben, standing up there…alone.

Rey braked hard at a red light, and the whiplash from the stop brought her back to her senses. Too far, too fucking far, she told herself, even as her breaths came out raspy and chaotic. She wasn’t driving home after a mass casualty event, it was a fucking pediatrics call shift and a neck biopsy, she didn’t even do anything. Siobhan was probably fully conscious now and would never know that they’d spoken to each other.

Her grip tightened on the steering wheel until her knuckles looked white under the street lights.  Even if Oli was gone, that didn’t mean Dan was dead. It didn’t mean that Siobhan was dead. Ben wasn’t dead. She wasn’t dead. She needed to get home.

When she finally did reach her apartment door, she raised fist to knock, then froze and fumbled for her keys.

She didn’t bother turning the lights on. She set down her bag and collapsed on the couch, grimacing from the stiffness of the cushions. For a long time, she lay flat on her back and stared at the ceiling, counting the dimples in the paint. Stars, an endless tapestry in the night sky, immortalized in her psyche.

She shivered and hugged herself, before she stopped and felt another dagger of pain run through her stomach.

It was past seven. Dr. Djarin had not contacted her, and she would have the entire weekend to herself. No academic obligations, no reason to wake up at six.

When she closed her eyes, all she could see were flashes of golden hair under white-hot hospital lights.

She couldn’t sleep.

Her eyes drifted to the kitchen cabinet, and with some hesitation she found the cabinet and wrapped her hand around the liquor bottle.

One. Just one.

She shuddered as the amber liquid burned at the back of her throat, then let out a deep sigh and set it on the kitchen counter.