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In an out of the way corner of the Falcon—he just, he couldn’t be around them no matter how much they might want to be around him—Kylo Ren, Ben Organa-Solo, Kylo sits huddled under a pile of blankets.

He hurts, his heart, his soul. It feels like someone went in and sloppily scooped out his insides. There’s an ache in him the First Order and Snoke had filled, a check on him and his emotions—for the most part—but now he has nothing in him but himself, and he’s not sure how to be himself, or who he is in the first place.

His mind is at loose ends and he just feels lost.

A hand, both somehow warm and cold, rests itself on his shoulder and he starts, but when he looks around, trying to see who managed to sneak up on him, there isn’t anyone there. He does not panic, but he does reach out tentatively with the Force—his first since his father had offered a hand, expecting nothing in return—trying to get a sense of what’s happening.

There is someone with him, he realizes, but they’re not alive. The edges and feel of them fuzzy and distant.

“Hello?” His throat hurts, he’d been crying earlier.

There isn’t a response, not verbally at least. Just that invisible hand squeezing his shoulder, and a feeling of pride flowing into his mind.

The hand leaves, but the feeling of pride lingers, it makes Ben-Kylo-Ben uncurl himself a little. Making himself easier to spot as he leans against one of the walls, the hum of the hyperdrive filling him.

Maybe...maybe things will only get better.

-

It’s night, he’s trying to sleep after who knows how long of being awake. He saw his mother, still strong and caring, even after decades. She’d hugged him and he’d been acutely aware of how much he’d grown since she last saw him, how he’d changed. It had been...uncomfortable.

But now he’s in a bed, and attempting to get to sleep. Except he keeps expecting sounds and things to happen that don’t, or they do happen just not when he thinks they should; he still expects things to happen as the First Order dictates, not the Resistance.

He doesn’t even feel tired as a growingly familiar presence approaches his door. But he doesn’t try to get out of his bed until there’s a knock.

Rey stands on the other side of the door, nervousness radiating from her. She’s changed clothes, but it doesn’t escape him how similar they are to her old clothes.

“You can’t sleep.” It’s not even a question, vaguely he wonders if she’d felt it through the Force, or if the Force had nudged her.

He nods, answer enough; he’s not sure how much he wants to speak anymore now that he doesn’t know what to say.

Her eyes inspect him critically, he can’t even find it in him to be offended when it feels more like she’s judging some criteria he’s never even heard about before. “Come on.”

“What?” Alright, so clearly he’ll speak enough.

She huffs and rolls her eyes. “You can’t sleep, but you should. Otherwise you might do something stupid,” she sounds like she’s speaking from experience. “So I’m going to help you sleep.” Her offer is unexpected, and he’s not quite sure how to react, staring at her outstretched hand.

But he takes it, the feel of the Force in her as enticing as it had been yesterday. Had it really only been yesterday?

Her hand is rough, far rougher than any he’s touched before, reminding him she was a scavenger, that this hand has done more work than Kylo, Ben, has ever done. Satisfied that he won’t somehow let go, she heads back they way he’d felt her arrive. Dragging him along as if he weren’t taller, and at least older, than her. But he does follow, feeling a flicker of surprise when they come to a stop at another bedroom door.

The door hisses open and they enter what must be her room. And he’s not the only one she’s made this offer to if the darker lumps on the bed are any sign, it stings a little. As the lights come on faintly he sees it’s FN—no Finn—and the pilot, whose name he hadn’t managed to catch; a distant part of him chides him for the oversight. They’re both asleep, the pilot snoring softly.

“Come on.” He starts, having somehow forgotten Rey was there. He turns his head to see her shedding her outer layers, long forgotten modesty rises and makes him avert his eyes back to the bed.

“I don’t think…” He starts to try and extract himself but Rey interrupts.

“Then don’t think,” she grumps, and she enters his field of vision again as she climbs into her bed. The pilot stays sleeping, but her movements wake Finn up, who blinks sleepily before focusing on him.

“Hi,” Ben-Kylo starts, not expecting anything like that as a reaction.

Rey presses her side against Finn’s back. “Tell him he needs to get in here and sleep with us, he apparently won’t listen to me anymore.”

If the suddenness of any of this surprises the other man he shows no sign of it, even in the Force. “Come on, it’s warm, and nobody hogs the blankets and pillows that much.”

A stunning commendation, but the earnestness of it does make Kylo-Ben-Ben give a twitch of a smile.

“It’s comforting,” Rey continues; and as she speaks he realizes that she hasn’t tried to address him by any sort of name, as if she can sense the upheaval inside him over something that should be simple.

It’s that more than anything that finally gets him moving, shedding most of his own clothes and trying not to dislodge anyone too much as he climbs over them all—her bed is smaller than his, but at least with the wall to his back he doesn’t have to think too much about falling off.

The second he’s under the covers Rey is pulling him towards her, her skin smooth and warm against his. But she’s right, it is comforting in a way. the sounds of three other people occupying such a small space—and it hasn’t escaped him that there’s no way he can comfortably fit in this bed without touching at least two of them—more calming than he thought it would be.

“See,” Rey murmurs, the feel of her in the Force becoming more and more hazy as she slips into sleep.

He closes his eyes, not trying to find a center of any sort like he remembers from old lessons, or his anger like he has for the past twenty or so years, and just lets himself listen. No thoughts, no worries, just a drifting mind.

It’s even possible he sleeps.

-

It’s a few days later and his life has at least fallen into a pattern of sorts, one that makes him feel more sturdy on his feet. He has breakfast in the morning with his parents—who, it had warmed him to find out, had not ‘panicked’ when they discovered he hadn’t been in his rooms that following morning—then he and his mother join the other generals of the Resistance and he tells them about the First Order. Part of him does hurt at the betrayal, they were in a way his people, but he wants his parents, and Rey, to suffer even less. And if that meant giving away the secrets of the First Order so that the war ended sooner then so be it.

At lunch Rey usually joins him, not minding at all that he doesn’t talk much to her. But talking about the preparations that are being made for her upcoming trip.

It’s only today that the significance of that hits.

“You’re going to Luke aren’t you?” His throat still aches slightly from all the talking he’d just done with the generals and he takes a drink.

She nods. “Yes, I’m going to ask him to train me.”

Hurt and anger flash through him, shocking him to discover that he doesn’t want her to leave. Since that first night she’s only shared a bed once more with him, and that time crawling into his bed. But he’s grown to count on her presence, it soothes him, reminds him there’s a reason he turned from the Dark.

He’s not sure what will happen if she leaves. “I, I could train you,” it’s an offer hastily made, even moreso by the fact that his own training past the basics is...slapdash. Snoke and the knights only gave him additions to the basics, things he could easily learn. It hurts to realize they were holding back just as much as he had imagined Luke had.

Her smile is lovely and warm. “Thank you, I...I appreciate the offer. But,” she looks guiltily away, and he feels that same sting he had a few days ago when he’d seen the others in her bed.

“I understand,” it’s stiff but he means it, enough. Almost too quickly he stands and begins making his way out of the half-bustling mess hall.

Rey chases after him, grabbing his arm with a stronger grip than someone that slight should. “Wait,” her tone isn’t harsh, but it doesn’t leave much room for argument; and if he didn’t know any better he’d think she were trying to mind trick him. “You don’t have to like my decision, but if I’m going to go up against Snoke, or the Knights of Ren then I want to learn from someone with experience. I can’t take my time here, I need the fastest path I can get.” Out of the corner of his eye he can see a tentative smile on her face. “I do appreciate you offering though. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

It had actually be very easy, but he realizes that his offering had opened up something in him. Ever since he arrived on the base he hasn’t really used the Force, not in the way he’s used to. Oh, he uses it to sense Rey, or his mother. But the little day to day uses that were his habit he’s denied himself. “Alright,” he finally responds, knowing she wants one before she’ll leave.

Her smile in response is brilliant, and she squeezes his wrist slightly before letting go and heading back to her own meal.

As he turns to leave he finds he’s grateful to her for showing him that he was foolishly afraid of using the Force. But it still hurts that she didn’t think him good enough to learn from in reverse.

-

Rey leaves the next day after breakfast, which meant that after the meeting with the generals ended—he doesn’t have much more to tell them and he wonders what he’ll do when he doesn’t have these meetings to go to—he expects to eat alone at lunch.

The clatter of a tray landing on the table across from him draws him from the introspective funk he’d been in. And he looks up in surprise to see Finn joining him.

Kylo-Ben stares at the other man. They haven’t exactly had much interaction since that first night, and he’s had to debate on whether or not that was on purpose, or if Finn just spent most of his days with the pilots—his mind helpfully reminds him that FN-2187’s scores had been low-average in flight simulators.

Finn’s smile is a flash before he starts digging into his food. “I thought you might like some company.”

The idea is...touching, yet. “Did Rey tell you to do this?” He doesn’t need to be watched by anyone let alone by her friends. He chose this, this agonizing crawl back into the light, he’s not going to let himself regret it now; or be turned away from it.

“No,” Finn quickly exclaims, his fork restlessly prodding at his food. “You just, looked lonely. And I miss Rey, too.”

He opens his mouth to protest before closing it. Because he realizes he does miss Rey. He’s known her for less than a standard week and already she’s somehow become a cornerstone of his life. It’s...disquieting to contemplate. He’s never been one to be so quick in relying on someone, let alone someone who’d been his enemy for all of a day. Yet it’s somehow happened, and now he has to figure out how to live with it.

So instead of letting himself speak—he’s not exactly in control of himself right now, he’d rather not speak than say something he’d regret—he shoves some bread in his mouth—deciding that a nod could be a good response.

Finn doesn’t seem to mind the lack of conversation, just goes back to eating his own food. At least until someone else sits next to them. He’s taken aback to see it’s Dameron.

Like most of the people in the Resistance, Dameron seems...wary about him, a reaction that hardly bothers him considering what he’s done—in both specific and general. It does mean he’s taken to avoiding most of the people here on the base, but he can live with that. What does rankle him is when they blamed him for all the atrocities done by the First Order, as if he’d made every decision himself.

Closing his eyes he breathes, focuses on his mother, letting her unyielding strength beckon him closer to the Light. Through the Force he feels a question from her, and he sends back a reassurance that he’s fine, just needing a moment. He doesn’t understand why Dameron is here, especially considering the fact that Kylo tortured him. The morning after that first night Dameron had been gone before seemingly anyone else had woken up.

“Poe,” Finn greets cheerfully. “How’s the new training going?” Ben-Ben-Ben is certain Finn feels the tension between the two of them, and is purposefully trying to defuse it. Maybe they should have trained him up for the diplomatic teams instead of the post he’d been given.

Dameron breaks their impromptu staring contest first and Ben-Kylo tries not to feel pleased. “Better than expected, but it’s tough.”

Finn gives a solemn nod. “We were just talking about Rey,” Ben-Kylo startles when he realizes that Finn is following in Rey’s footsteps, not addressing him by any sort of name; it’s a strange relief—he can stand his parents calling him Ben but he’s not sure about anyone else just yet.

Dameron, gratefully, lets himself be distracted. But as the two of them converse he realizes that they’ve already received messages from her, though she must still be in hyperspace on her way to Ahch-To and Luke.

Standing he finds himself torn between hope that she’s sent him a message too and he’s somehow missed it, and anger that they got messages and he didn’t; only one is actually plausible.

“Are you alright?” Finn’s question has the wonderful addition of jerking him out of his inner struggle.

He gives a stiff nod. “Yes, I need to go.” Without waiting for a response he turns and leaves, trying his best not to seem like he’s hurrying to his room.

On the desk the little datapad his mother gave him is flashing. After unlocking it he taps the message button. “Hey,” Rey’s voice nearly fills his room. “Hope you’re doing alright. Don’t get into too much trouble, okay?” He manages to work out she’s teasing him, it...he thinks he might like it. “I should be back in a few days, so don’t worry.” The message cuts out.

-

His mother is a busy woman, but he knows she’ll make time for him; he does feel kind of bad about it, but this is important.

She looks up and smiles as he walks into her office. “Ben,” it doesn’t hurt to hear her say it. “Is something wrong?” She may not be a Jedi, but she knows enough about the Force, and she is his mother too.

“I,” he takes one of the seats across from the desk, drooping so she doesn’t have to crane her neck. “I wanted to ask you something. For your advice I mean.” She’s one of the smartest people he knows, she must have some good advice about this.

“Ask me about what?” She turns off her datapad and glues her attention firmly on him, it’s almost unnerving, but he forges on.

“I,” his cheeks heat and it’s a shock to realize he’s possibly blushing, he wishes he had his helmet to hide behind; he’s not sure how he could hide this using the Force. “I think I like Rey,” it’s not as if Snoke and the First Order thought to teach him about relationships, and he was young enough that he’d never picked up on it naturally.

Somehow he must have lost some time because the next thing he knows his mother is hugging him. “Oh, Ben,” she sounds loving and fond. “Of course I’ll give you advice. Though,” she pulls away slightly and he sees a grin on her face. “I’m sure I’ll give you more than your father might be comfortable hearing. So we’ll keep this between us right?” Her wink is something unexpected, and he finds himself grinning in return. Maybe being Ben isn’t so bad.

-

The next day, still mulling over what his mother told him, he only half listens to the conversation Finn and Dameron were having before he arrived.

But he actually hears the name of what they’re discussing and the question escapes him before he even thinks to stop it. “They still make that holoshow?” He has vague childhood memories of Paragon Adventures, he’d liked it until he’d started training under Luke and realizing the Force didn’t work that way—he stops the train of memories there, no need to go further on.

The other two men halt their conversation and look at him, although he thinks Finn is just looking at him because Dameron is. Dameron’s gaze itself is assessing, and unexpectedly unnerving. He narrows his own eyes in response. “What?” It comes out more waspish than he intended, on the other hand he doesn’t much like feeling as if he’s being observed.

“No,” Dameron finally answers. “They stopped about a decade or so ago. But it’s good fun to watch, the right kind of silly.” He didn’t know there was such a thing. “I just didn’t think you would be the sort of kid who enjoyed it.”

Emotion, yet peace, he finds himself repeating over and over in his head. The ancient Jedi mantra reminding him that he could be annoyed and at peace at the same time. If only he could find that peace. He finds that part of him desperately hopes Rey brings Luke back with her, that his uncle will be able to help him in some fashion beyond the tentative stumbling he’s done since he freed himself.

“I did,” he finds himself muttering towards his food. “But the Force doesn’t work that way.”

Poe huffs and he looks up to see that the other man is smiling at him. “That’s what the drinking game is for.”

-

Which somehow ends him up in Dameron’s quarters—which are a mess—sitting in a chair a shade too small for him, with the holoprojector playing the opening credits of Paragon Adventures, a bottle of frowned upon alcohol and three small glasses in front of him, Dameron, and Finn.

“Alright,” Dameron takes the seat on the other side of Finn, “you take a sip every time Devymarq takes too long to say something, same whenever there’s a lightsaber, or when Sorlai’s being stuffy. Drink when the Force gets misused, or when there’s a fight, or Xepoi appears. Down the whole shot whenever an actual historical person gets mentioned or appears.”

Ben thinks he might regret this.

-

In the morning his head hurts—he’ll have to congratulate Dameron on managing to get a Force user drunk.

After he goes through what seems like an hour of pain suppressing meditations he feels like he can open his eyes. His ears have already told him that Dameron is still asleep, and that Finn is unaccounted for. So when he opens his eyes he’s surprised to see Finn up and about, looking like he hadn’t drunk a drop.

“How?” Is all the question he manages to groan out, trying to sit up he realizes that the reason Dameron’s snores sounded so loud is because Dameron was using him as a pillow.

Finn shrugs and comes over bearing a ration bar, it might not be real food, but his stomach doesn’t care. “I didn’t really do much more than sip and drink, didn’t actually know any of the historical people.”

It takes a few moments for Kylo’s alcohol fogged brain to recall that FN-2187 would have only gotten the First Order’s version of events and history. For a moment the guilt hurts worse than the hangover. And since he’s been Finn for only a few days he probably hasn’t had time to acquaint himself with a more...reasoned and balanced account of the past.

Putting that aside for now, but resolving to do something about it, he manages to actually sit upright, dislodging Dameron in the process. The man sleeps through it however, he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not. “Space, what happened?” He doesn’t really remember much past the musical episode.

“You and Poe got really drunk,” Finn shrugs as he takes the desk seat. “You started hugging him and apologizing profusely for hurting him.” Kylo-Ben is mortified. “He accepted and you shared another drink, then you started debating battles in the Clone Wars, and whether Poe is as good a pilot as your grandfather. Then you starting singing some really dirty songs.” Finn looks kind of embarrassed and it’s...curious.

Regardless, Ben wants to find a cave and live as a hermit for the rest of his life. He’s certain if his parents were to see him now his mother would be Amused and his father would be ‘Profoundly Disappointed.’ “Please don’t tell anyone,” it’s not exactly begging.

Finn frowns, “uh…”

Ben-Kylo is too hungover for this. “What?” It can’t get any worse could it? Well, alright it probably could.

“Well, I talked with Rey this morning.” To his credit Finn looks abashed about it. “I had a lot of fun last night, so I kind of told her. And I was gonna tell Poe when he woke up too.” Finn shrugs. “It seems only fair really. She says she’s happy you two are getting along.”

“Getting drunk is not bonding, or getting along.” At least one of them enjoyed themselves. “I’m leaving,” he announces, his voice sounding too loud in his ears all of the sudden. “I’m going to walk into the jungle and just let nature take me.”

Finn immediately jumps up and tries to dissuade him from doing that, and Kylo-Ben is still too hungover to try and explain exaggeration, but he thinks he makes his point. Finn does allow him to stumble out of the room by the end of it, and he makes his way to his own quarters and the wonderfully hot refresher.

He feels almost human when he comes out of the healing meditation he sunk into upon collapsing on the bed. Dressing he leaves and makes his way to the library the base has. It’s better stocked than he thought it would be and he gets one of the librarians to pick out the best three history datacards and send them to Finn’s room.

At lunch Finn’s smile is much wider and brighter than it usually is. “Thanks for the books.” Finn all but gushes. “And I totally forgot to tell you this morning, but Rey’s gonna be back in a day or two.”

So maybe he won’t let the jungle take him after all.

-

It’s the second of the two possible arrival days and Kylo-Ben has tucked himself away at the top of the base, his back against the communications array as he watches one of D’Qar’s moon’s rise, while just below it sunrise begins to spread across the horizon—heliacal, he recalls from his lessons with Luke.

A pleasant moment of peace and calm.

He hears the ladder that leads up to the array rattle and he looks over to see Dameron climbing up.

They’ve done some dancing around each other since The Night. Hadn’t it been an unhappy shock to realize that Dameron’s memory, even when drunk, was very good. Ben’s not sure how he feels about it all now after that.

Dameron looks surprised to see him, which is a relief actually. “Sorry, I’ll find somewhere else.”

“You can stay,” a part of him more Kylo than the rest wonders what in space he’s doing. “I don’t mind.”

The surprised expression returns. “You sure? You don’t have to be nice to me, I’m not gonna tell anyone either way.” Which doesn’t stop Dameron from finishing his climb and settling up closer to the com dish.

He bares his teeth at Dameron, yet doesn’t feel the same rush of anger he would have only a few days ago; it hasn’t escaped his notice that since he broke free of the Order his fits have stopped. It unmoores him, that anger has been a cornerstone of his life for so long that being without it is unsettling. “I’d definitely tell you Dameron if I wasn’t sure.” Luke and his parents taught him to be polite yes, but they also stressed speaking up for himself.

“Alright,” Dameron shrugs. “If you say so.”

They settle into a somewhat comfortable silence, watching the sunrise and the stars begin to fade under the brighter light. He can feel his mother looking for him, possibly worried that he didn’t show up for breakfast, and he gives her a brief bump through the Force, he doesn’t want her to worry, but he also just wants some more time to himself.

“You know,” Dameron breaks the silence as the jungle around them also begins to wake up alongside the base—they’ll be moving soon, to a base that the Order doesn’t know about. “We met once or twice when we were kids.”

Shocked Ben finds himself frowning. “What?” He doesn’t recall any meetings with Dameron. Not that he remembers much before he went to go train with Luke when he was six; he did have memories of his parents, they did try to make time for him, but setting up a new government and trying to stamp out the rest of the Empire kept them busy most of the time. He has vague memories of being embraced by Chewie, and being watched over by C-3P0. Vividly he recalls the nightmares he’d been plagued with, yet being unable to tell anyone about them.

“...on Yavin IV,” Ben yanks himself out of his memories and focuses on Dameron’s story. “there’d just been this battle, and not to brag but my mom’s kind of the reason we won it,” his smile is easy and proud. “So she came home and the General came to thank her and do all this PR stuff. Which at six I thought was totally boring, but it meant I got to meet the General, which was probably the best thing ever at the time.” Dameron’s cheerful face scrunches slightly, as if he’s trying to recall the next part.

“You were there, but I think you’d fallen asleep? And your mom didn’t want to wake you to meet me. But our moms were still talking about how they hoped we’d be best friends. Which I was against, because six year olds were infinitely cooler than four year olds.” Dameron rolls his eyes.

“I’m touched,” not that he remembers any of that, and he’s visited a lot of jungle planets over the years so they all sort of blurred together. “Granted I’m sure I wouldn’t want to be your friend either.”

Dameron snorts. “You know where to hit a man where it hurts.” It almost sounds like good-natured teasing. “And I think we met on Coruscant once too.”

Frowning Ben casts his mind back, Coruscant is hazy but he does have memories of it. He tries to think of what Dameron would have looked like aged six or seven. “You tried to take my Krayt dragon toy.”

“What?” Dameron looks affronted. “I would never.”

Ben actually manages a smile as they talk back and forth, they may not have met many times, but they had a shared history that’s surprisingly easy to speak of. And it does hurt to be reminded of childhood and the Darkness that had lured him into killing his fellow padawans, but that’s just something he’s going to have to live with.

They talk for so long they both completely miss seeing the Falcon come in.

-

Which means seeing Rey at lunch is a shock. She’s sitting right next to Finn and laughing at something he’s telling her. Ben-Kylo finds himself struck by how confident and self-assured she seems. It makes him feel...not exactly inadequate, but it’s close enough.

But Dameron passes him and raises an eyebrow, clearly questioning why he’s not going over to see Rey, taking the seat on her other side. And now Ben’s certain that if he doesn’t Poe won’t let him live it down; regardless of the fact the only person who knows about his crush is his mother.

Calming himself as best he can he heads over. He doesn’t want to avoid seeing her, on the other hand maybe walking into the jungle isn’t such a bad idea after all. But he keeps pressing forward and then she sees him and it’s too late to turn back.

She beams at him as he sits across from her. “Hi!”

The feel of the Force in her is already stronger than it was before, practically a beacon of light and in a way it hurts to look at her. Yet he can’t help but smile back. “Hi, glad you made it back in one piece.”

After staring at him for a moment she laughs, it feels ridiculous how much he might be in love with her. “I’m glad you seem like you’re doing better. Oh, before I forget Master Luke wants to talk to you.”

He tries to squash the bitterness that calls up, he should be happy Rey’s back, he’s not sure how well he does. Still he manages a nod and begins eating, letting the conversation flow around him.

-

Despite very much not wanting to he knows he won’t be able to avoid Luke; it had been nearly impossible when he’d been a child he doesn’t expect it to be an easier twenty years later. So reluctantly he follows the feel of his uncle through the Force, letting it guide him to one of the doors in the barracks.

He raises his hand but doesn’t knock. His parents said they forgave him for the things he’s done. But in his mind the worst thing he ever did is only an abstract to them, something they’ve only heard of and never seen.

But Luke, Luke knows it all. Knows the face of every child that Kylo Ren killed that night, knew their hopes and dreams.

And how, how can anyone forgive him for that?

The door hisses open, the sound shocking him out of his spiral.

On the other side of the threshold stands Luke. Ben finds himself taken aback by how old his uncle is now, face worn and lined, beard covering most of his face. It’s completely not the image that even Kylo Ren had kept in his mind of his uncle, and now he doesn’t know what to do.

Except that his body moves on it’s own and before he knows it he’s hugging Luke and crying, repeating the same two words over and over again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Hesitantly Luke returns the embrace moving them a few steps into his room and rubbing a hand up and down Ben’s back. “I know, Ben.”

Ben doesn’t know how long they stand there, embracing each other and not speaking. But it’s far better than Ben expected. Eventually though his uncle pulls away, blue eyes caring but grave. His flesh hand brushes away the last of Ben’s tears. “Thank you, for telling me that.”

Ben-Kylo nods, it does hurt some that Luke didn’t say ‘I forgive you’ but Kylo understands why. And the fact that this is happening at all is a start.

-

The next day he feels washed out and scrubbed raw, it make him withdrawn at breakfast—a fact his father almost comments on, only to be cut off by his mother—and afterwards. There aren’t anymore meetings that he has to do, so he retreats to the library where the bustle of the Resistance packing up to leave is less noticeable and he’s not really in the way.

He tucks himself into a back corner and only half reads Han Solo and the Mandalorian Pirates. It’s easy to remember the first time he’d read a holothriller like this, and hunting down his father to find out if it had really happened—he’d been disappointed to find out that no they hadn’t. In a way it’s almost comforting to read it now, he can see the plot twist coming a lightyear away, but that doesn’t really matter. What matters is that it’s simple; good wins and flies off into space with no sort of backlash or consequences whatsoever for whatever might have occurred.

"Hey,” his head jerks up at Rey’s voice.

After a few seconds of silence he realizes he should probably respond. “Hi.” It does surprise him that he was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t sense her approaching.

She stays standing where she is, but does give him a small smile. “Am I interrupting you?”

“No,” he doesn’t even need to think of the answer, he already knows he’s been staring at the same page for about fifteen minutes or so. He tucks his legs in so there’s room for her on the bench.

Taking the invitation her smile grows a little. “Well I’m glad you didn’t actually walk into the jungle.”

“It’s a figure of speech,” he groans, hiding his face behind the reader he’d been using. Absently he wonders if Poe would let him gripe about the fact that Finn and Rey take certain things far too seriously. Then he wonders when Dameron had become Poe, and why he felt like the best person to go to for that.

One of her legs knocks his shins and he peers over the edge of his reader to see Rey arching an eyebrow at him. “Why are you thinking about Poe?”

He declines to answer, instead blurting out. “I’ve got something I want to tell you.” It’s not like he doesn’t want her to know that he and Poe are friends, it’s just...complicated, like everything else in his life right now.

The slightly amused expression on her face turns serious, and if he didn’t have her full attention before he certainly does now, the full force of her gaze slightly mesmerizing on it’s own. “Yes?” She arches her eyebrow at him again, and he realizes it’s been nearly a full minute since either of them spoke.

He looks from her down back at the reader ‘He took her face in his hands, noticing how her eyes glittered in the light.’ Space, even the holothriller isn’t giving him a break. Tearing his eyes away from that he meets Rey’s again, eye contact is important, he reminds himself.

“I, I think I like you, really like you. I mean, as more than a friend.” He feels certain that if it didn’t mean Rey and Finn would follow him in to haul him out, he really would just walk into the jungle. The possibly only redeeming factor is that they’re well and truly alone. Emotions like this, stars even the idea of actual relationships—emotionless sex with strangers didn’t count—are alien ideas to him; having no experience in either.

Rey looks at him, and he can feel her brushing against the edges of his mind. He welcomes her in, lets her see every part of him.

What feels like an eternity later she leaves, his mind at least, physically she moves closer. Her side pressing against his shins, her chin coming to rest on one of his knees.  “Alright,” she finally says in reply. “But you’re not the only one you know.”

The contact is unexpected, but not unwelcome at the moment. Her words throw him into a sort of emotional chaos, however. “I...I mean, I not saying you should choose or something,” it’s easy enough to guess who the other person who might like Rey is. Finn’s not very good at hiding himself.

“If you were I would have left,” she answers plainly. Well in a way that’s a relief. “I just want to be clear. Han says if you’re not clear you have stupid arguments.”

Childish instinct has him wrinkling his nose. “I don’t know if I want to hear my father’s relationship advice coming from your mouth.” If at all really.

She laughs. “It does mean we need a bigger bed, it was a tight fit last time.”

“I’m...I’m not looking for sex.” Even if it’s advice from his father it’s still good advice. He just wants to know himself better than he does before engaging in something that intimate with her, or anyone else right now.

“That’s okay,” her response is brighter than he expected, but accepting. “I’m still figuring out sex stuff myself. I mean I didn’t even know I’m supposed to bleed out of my vagina once a month until yesterday.”

Bewildered all he can really do is stare, his brain having somehow been broken by her. At least until she laughs again, and he finds himself childishly poking at her with the Force.

-

But that’s how, that night, he finds his bed filled with more than just Rey. In fact he somehow ends up in the middle of the strange pile that is Rey, Finn, and Poe. Not that he minds. It’s nice in a way, comforting like a hug from his mother, or holothrillers.

It’s later in the night and he’s not sure if any of them are awake, and unwilling to whisper to see if they are. Instead he just lets himself lay there, surrounded by warmth and people who seem to care about him despite him possibly not deserving it. He forces that whole line of thinking away, because it shouldn’t be about what he thinks about their choice, it should be about the fact that they chose, and that he was part of that choice.

Just like it’s up to him to choose who and what he’ll be. True it’s a daunting choice, especially since he’s coming to realize that for most of his life he’s been looking to others to define him, but it will be a good choice, regardless of what he decides.

Peace, tenuous and fragile fills him and he finds himself unsure if he’s blinking back tears or finally falling back to sleep.

As his eyes slide shut for the final time that night he thinks he sees a young Jedi with a sad smile on his face give a nod before vanishing.

He dreams of nothing and in the morning he’s greeted smiles and unexpected kisses.

Chapter Text

Ben-Kylo focuses intently on the X-wing he and Poe are working on. If he doesn’t focus he’s likely to dwell on why Rey’s not here—Finn so far has shown only the vaguest of interest in mechanics and fixing things. Even with his laser-like focus he can still feel it through the Force, close enough to tease at the edges of him.

Rey and Finn, training with Luke.

He had gotten three different invitations to join them, but he, he can’t. Not until he’s untangled the mess of his mind and figured out more solidly who he is.

“Hand me that spanner would you?” Poe’s voice drifts over from a short distance away, mostly caught up in his own work as well.

Without thought Kylo-Ben grabs the spanner in question and floats it over to the other man, at least he’s grown more comfortable with using the Force in the past few days they’ve had here at the new base on Crait. “Thanks,” Poe says absently, seemingly unbothered with Ben-Kylo’s lack of speech. He wonders if Poe even realizes he’d grabbed the spanner out of midair.

Despite the constant awareness of the training going on nearby he finds himself soothed by the work of fixing up this X-wing. He’d always liked tinkering and fixing things when he was younger—some of his fondest childhood memories were of working on the Falcon with his father. Out of habit he finds himself shying away from those thoughts, just as he shies away from the memories of how he’d shoved that part of him into the same mind-prison he had all of his good memories when he’d given fully into Snoke.

So he’s definitely out of practice, but Poe doesn’t seem to mind helping when he asks for it, and BB-8’s got the technical readout if he needs it.

Perhaps he should just abandon the Force entirely, be nothing more than a mechanic for the Resistance. It’s good work fixing ships and whatever else around base might need repairing, and he’d like to think his help would be appreciated.

He wonders how his parents would react if he told them that. Probably shock, but in the end he knows they’d support the decision so long as it was what he wanted—and didn’t involve returning to the dark side.

Twin burst of relief pass through him and he finds himself biting back a smile. “Finn and Rey are done with their lessons.” Rey perhaps will be put out they’ve been tinkering without her, but then again Han’s given her free reign of the Falcon . Ben-Kylo-Ben probably does too, but right now working on the Falcon would be too much of a strain. Not that the Falcon is here at the moment, his father having been sent off to try and charm people to the Resistance. Probably smuggling too, because apparently not even rekindling a relationship could make his father truly respectable.

“Good,” he can practically hear the smile in Poe’s voice. “Wonder if any of us’ll need convincing to break for lunch.” Ben huffs, certain they’ll all be in agreement about that.

A few minutes later they enter, he doesn’t see it, but he can feel them in the Force. Their signatures as familiar to him as his own reflection. Rey’s has changed since she began her training in earnest, no longer a blinding star, it’s become dimmer as she’s learned control; waiting for any other Force user to underestimate her and how powerful she really is.

Finn, on the other hand, still seems fairly weak, but has been getting stronger as time goes on. He feels like sunbeams now, and it’s a strange urge for Kylo to have to want to curl up in them and soak them up like a Loth cat. Easy affection like that is still hard for him sometimes however, so he finds himself unsure on how to act on those impulses.

Finn reaches them first, and when Ben-Kylo gives Rey a soft questioning bump he gets exhaustion in response. “Hi,” Finn’s smile is brilliant as always.

Poe pulls himself away from his repair work and embraces Finn, “hey.” Much slower Ben does the same. Getting just as enthusiastic an embrace when Poe finally lets Finn go. It’s been interesting to see how their strange relationship settles the longer they stay with each other.

How Rey and Poe’s own embrace and kiss are much less passionate than the one he and Finn shared, but still clearly full of love and care. In a way he understands it. He’s come to care for Finn and Poe, and that affection grows, but Rey is still the one whom he finds himself going to most often. 

Although the three of them seem more than happy to pile on each other whenever they like as well. Sometimes he lets himself get pulled in. Others he just likes...not quite ‘watching’ them, but experiencing it on the outside is something he finds he likes; especially when it comes to the few times they’ve had sex.

Rey had been afraid at first that he was hanging around the edges because they’d put him there, and if he didn’t want to be there, he didn’t have to. She’d been relieved to find out that wasn’t it at all. As had Finn and Poe apparently.

“Hey,” Rey’s voice breaks his thoughts and he blinks to see that Finn and Poe have already left, Rey’s smile is gentle though. “Lunch? Or do I have to float you to the mess?” 

An answering smile stretches his face as he goes over to her and links hands.

-

Things with his parents have smoothed out as time has passed too, all three of them learning how to be around each other for the first time. His mother especially has become a bit of a touchstone, someplace he can go when he just wants to not be bothered by anyone.

Her office is as spare as the last one—and the one before that, and before that, he’s certain—no decorations, save for a single plant that Rey had given her when she’d brought Luke back. Just a desk, some chairs, and a small seating area off to one side.

Kylo-Ben wouldn't say he’s hiding there, but it’s a far safer place for him to tuck himself away than what’s become his usual spot in the library. His mother pays him no mind as she goes about her work, and the people that come to and fro probably try to stop and stare, but his mother won’t let them. He’s stopped bothering to hide his faint smile every time it happens—Hux wishes he were that good Kylo knows.

The chairs are quite comfortable, a surprise considering how lanky he is, even when curled up.

His eyes stay mostly glued to his datapad. He’s been browsing through the old Coruscant archives, partly because he can and partly to give him something to do to fill the time—he can’t be repairing ships all times of the day and night. 

Back when he’d been all Kylo, he’d scoffed at many of the things he’s now reading, thinking it foolish and childish. He’s not sure what to make of some of it now, but that’s better than probably assuming he knows everything.

“Is there someone I should be watching out for to fend off? Or is it the universe in general?” The fact that his mother’s right next to him doesn’t surprise him. His focus on reading has let parts of him roam more freely than others and he’s more open to the Force than usual. But his mother’s too good at hiding herself, even from him it seems.

He shrugs and makes himself look at her. “I just, wanted somewhere peaceful.” His spot at the library is usually good, but recently he’s been finding himself being...pestered—nothing malicious, but it’s still more attention than he wants. Ben doesn’t offer to go, if his mother wanted him gone she’d tell him.

Wrinkles appear on her face as she smiles, her right hand rising up to pat him on the head. “I feel that, Luke would be moderately peeved that you chose my office over that space he’s set up for meditation.”

It brings a wan smile to his face, the space that uncle Luke set up probably is very peaceful as well, but also far too... calm.

It’s not that he needs to be surrounded by emotion, something going on in the background however... He’s sure if he tried to explain it Luke would understand—then again that seems to be his uncle’s default—but he has been avoiding Luke some also.

“Too...calm,” perhaps his mother will understand as well.

Her smile grows. “Now that I understand. After Endor, Luke tried to teach me some, couldn’t stand all the sitting around and doing nothing. Can mediate just fine while I’m working. We decided to call it off before either of us did something drastic.”

The idea of uncle Luke being anywhere close to drastic is a bizarre one to Ben. Even in mourning there seemed to be something...calm about the older man. A calm Ben-Kylo has never been able to achieve himself. But it seems a family trait somewhat, and not just how Snoke had molded him. A fact which eases him far more than he’d thought it would.

It makes him realize that he’s been...not exactly fearful of himself, but, being cautious. It seems an impossible thing, how can one be too cautious around oneself? Yet even after a month of freedom he still doesn’t know how to trust himself.

Realizing that is probably a good thing.

Not that he’s in any way sure how he can start to trust himself again.

-

“Excuse me.” The voice startles him when it shouldn’t have.

Ben-Ben-Ben has been hiding in the maintenance tunnels off and on for a few days now, everything sometimes feels too much. Too much of his mother’s understanding, his uncle’s prodding, his...partners caring. He feels almost like a child again cramming himself into spaces that by rights shouldn’t fit someone his size. A fact more pointed now more than ever.

He does let them know that he’s fine , and he’s grateful that they’re giving him space. He just...needs to be away .

It doesn’t help that there have been...overtures. Not of the romantic sort, but of politics and currying favor. He may have been Kylo Ren, the most feared man in the First Order, but he is also Ben Organa-Solo, Leia Organa’s son. Politicians, however, don’t deign to come into maintenance tunnels.

“Excuse me.” Again he’s startled. This time he looks up from his datapad.

She’s maintenance crew is the first thing he notices, also that she has a grease smear on her right cheek. Her hair’s been pulled back in a haphazard way that Ben-Kylo is sure he’s done on more than one occasion himself. Her arms are crossed and from the way her foot’s tapping she’s waiting for him.

“Sorry?” Cutting remarks and sarcasm come easy to him. Actual, polite conversation with strangers is still taking some work.

She huffs. “You’re blocking the panel I need to get to.” He finds he appreciates the bluntness.

Without saying anything he uncurls himself and steps out of the way. “Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

She waves a hand as she opens the panel and makes herself comfortable. “We don’t have to check up  this way often anyways, easy mistake. Why’re you here anyways?” If she doesn’t know who he is he’ll eat his datapad. Yet she’s still trying to make conversation with him.

Kylo knows he could leave, just go hide out in his room instead. No matter that it meant a greater chance of someone finding him. “I didn’t want to be found.” Perhaps he can do polite conversation after all. His mother would be proud.

“Now I feel like I should be the one apologizing,” her voice has that lightness to it he associates with Poe making a joke. “Any particular person or just everyone in general? I once hid from a partner in a cupboard, well not really hid-hid. I wanted to surprise them, it didn’t work out like I’d planned.”

His fingers tighten on his datapad. Leave, he tells himself. Turn around and just walk. “Everyone,” he finds himself answering. “Too many people wanting too much from me when I already feel stretched thin.” As the words leave him he realizes how right they are. He perhaps shouldn’t be admitting this to a stranger, but even with the small size of the Resistance there’s not much likelihood of them ever meeting again.

A laugh escapes her and he does his best to let the flash of anger pass through him. “If they stretch you any thinner you’ll be Corellian taffy.”

Joke, she’s making a joke. About his height, he realizes belatedly. The panel she’s been working behind closes and as she stands he realizes she’s much smaller than him. He’ll allow the joke, if only because she doesn’t mean it cruelly. Although it’s not his fault he shot up like a Wookie.

Not-Kylo Not-Ben even manages something like a wan smile as she turns around. “Thanks for letting me into your hidey-hole. The people in the refreshers will appreciate it.” She sticks out a hand that reminds him of Rey; worn with work, yet strong. “I’m Rose.”

He shakes her hand, but cannot think of a name to give her.

-

The days following that conversation with Rose have him wondering if perhaps he should leave. Not forever, just to...find himself. A month and he still doesn’t know who he is and he has a feeling that no amount of meditation or affection is going to fix that.

But he’s not sure he’ll be allowed to leave. For all the help he’s given the Resistance—which he knows they’ve put to good use, Poe having been in and out of the base all week—he wouldn’t be surprised if the other leaders didn’t trust him. He’d expect it.

It’s almost enough to make him go to his father. If anyone could smuggle him out it would be Han Organa-Solo, which might just amuse his father enough to agree to it.

For now he’ll put that idea aside. He hasn’t been pushed that far just yet. 

-

“Spar with me,” Rey’s voice tugs him away from his holothriller.

At her desk his mother works studiously, but he doesn’t doubt she’s paying attention. He makes himself tear his attention from her to Rey, whose expression is earnest. “I don’t…”

“I know you’re thinking about stuff, and that it’s okay to just read a whole lot.” Rey’s nose wrinkles as she says it, and you can only hear his mother’s sound of amusement if you’re listening for it. “but I know it would be good for you. We don’t even have to use training sabers. You can’t be afraid of everything to do with the Jedi.”

From anyone else that would be a cruel jab, from Rey it’s only well meant concern.

Kylo-Ben-Kylo bites back a sigh, but stands. Perhaps she’s right, and physical activity will do him some good. And if he really does want to find a way to start trusting himself, to try and untangle the mess that is himself, than he can’t only do one thing; as much as doing that one thing is comforting in a way. “Alright.”

She smiles as bright as her signature in the Force and it pulls him further in, not that that’s hard. He doesn’t even fight when she takes his hand and begins dragging him out of his mother’s office and towards the training areas set aside for Luke, Finn, and Rey. 

Neither Finn or Luke are there, which is a relief. Ben-Kylo isn’t surprised when Rey unearths her old staff from the rack of weapons. The ease with which she warms up with it attractive in a way.

He makes himself focus on picking his own weapon. Despite her saying they didn’t need to use training sabers he finds himself gravitating to them. He picks one up and flicks it on. The dull white of the blade, mixed with the low hum, makes him feel like a child again, picking up a lightsaber for the first time.

But it’s not his uncle Luke waiting for him, it’s Rey and her staff. Which helps him work through the emotions, good and bad, that flow through him.

Even as his mind struggles, his body settles into a guard position with ease. Fighting is something he’s always done well, for good or ill.

Neither of them move for a span of seconds, then the end of Rey’s staff darts out, quick as can be, and his saber is there to block—he’s distantly grateful that the saber’s too low in power to damage her staff.

It’s not that all the worry and struggling Kylo’s been going through disappears, but it fades into the background as he and Rey move up and down the training area, giving and losing ground not quite equally. The way they move together fools even Kylo into thinking they’ve done this before, that this is just the latest time they’ve sparred.

Yet except for that brief encounter on Tokanda they never have.

Despite his earlier reluctance, he does find himself enjoying this. Rey’s improved greatly, but he does find himself on the attack more than defending—so long as he minds both ends of her staff. Granted, it’s hard to hold himself back—not much—to not fall back on what the Knights taught him of fighting. This is supposed to be friendly, not a fight to the death.

A quick slip through her guard and he finds them almost pressed together, his saber and her staff struggling against each other to try and push the other back. Ben doesn’t think, his head darting down to kiss the corner of her mouth.

The shock of it on her end is enough for him to push her back, sweeping her legs out from under her, and resting the end of his saber at her throat. “I win,” despite how childish it sounds he finds himself grinning.

“I don’t see how that’s fair at all,” she’s grinning too though.

He disengages the saber, and holds his other hand out to her to help her up.

A second later he’s the one on his back, Rey crouched on his chest, the end of her staff pressing against the base of his own throat. “I win now.”

“That is definitely not fair,” he replies. Yet it doesn’t surprise either of them that his hands settle on her hips. Holding her closer to him.

Nor does it surprise them when she tosses her staff away, leaning down to kiss him fully.

It might not go any further than this, but Ben knows it’s enough for the both of them now. That she’s willing to walk his pace on their road together.

-

Kylo doesn’t intent to find Finn in his meandering, but he does. At least at the shooting range there isn’t anyone trying to gladhand. Though he does get some odd looks from the others there.

“Hey,” Finn grins as he sets his blaster down. “It’s good to see you.” As if they hadn’t had breakfast together that morning. “Though this isn’t where I ever expected you to visit.” Kylo-Ben can’t argue that.

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d still try to use a blaster.” It’s not the...nicest thing he’s ever said. But like Rey’s comment a few days ago about avoiding all things Jedi, it’s mostly well meant.

Finn shrugs, clearly unbothered by the implications of Kylo’s not-question. “A lightsaber can’t do everything,” he answers easily. A very non-Jedi answer. “It doesn’t hurt to have more than one option. Your uncle’s made that pretty clear.” Through the Force, Kylo can feel that brief implication that if he were training with them, he’d know that too.

But Finn’s comment instead makes Ben laugh. “I certainly can’t recall him ever saying that when I was younger.” With a shock he realizes this is the first time he’s ever spoken about his Jedi-training with anyone not his uncle.

Linking their arms together, Finn puts the blaster away before leading them out of the range. The hallway is quiet, and blissfully empty. “People change,” Finn says earnestly.

Ben doesn’t completely sag into Finn, but he does lean his head down, face buried in Finn’s hair. It smells like the soap Poe uses—and thus everyone else because none of them could be bothered to find anything else—and prickles softly against his skin. “I know.” He could probably be trotted out as the prime example, although some would argue it hasn’t done him much good. “Harder when someone’s so fixed in your mind.”

His parents had been that way, but that was before he’d spent almost every morning having breakfast with them and learning how to be a family of sorts; even if they could never go back to what they had been before. Granted before they’d rarely been there.

“Maybe if you talked to your uncle more you’d feel the same about him.” Others might be put off by a partner who could read your mind—to a certain extent. But Kylo is too used to not being alone in his head. Having Rey and Finn in there, if less so, is comforting in a way that is perhaps not healthy.

“Maybe,” he mutters in response. But the void between the two of them is far vaster, an abyss of Darkness and things unsaid. As cruel as it is, he and his parents have never really been a family in a way. His parents too busy, and too worried about him; and him too eager to listen to anyone who sounded like they cared. He and Luke don’t have that.

Finn tilts his head up, enough that he can give Ben-Ben a kiss on the cheek. “It’s not like you have to do it all at once,” he says kindly.

Kylo-Ben shudders.

-

Despite being surrounded by three deeply sleeping people, he feels only restless. He counts minutes until he can’t stand it anymore. Gently—the Force certainly helps—he climbs out from between Finn and Poe. As he dresses he spares a glance at Rey, the lightest sleeper of them all, but she too is still fast asleep.

Letting himself feel a spark of happiness at the sight of them all, he turns and leaves the room.

The base at night isn’t completely silent, but it is far quieter, and there are fewer people he has to think to avoid. He blinks when he realizes the steady feeling in the Force nuding him is his uncle. Recalling Finn’s words he sighs and heads that way, open enough to at least try .

He finds his uncle sitting under the half open blast doors. Staring out at the Crait landscape, such as it is, sparkling under the light of three moons. Luke has a mug in his hands, and another sitting next to him expectantly.

Rolling his eyes he takes what’s intended to be his spot and picks up the still hot mug, with a deep breath he inhales chocolate. “If you wanted to talk you didn’t have to do all this.”

Luke likely senses his mild annoyance, and only gives a faint smile. “I’ve heard tell of your hiding exploits. This seemed more direct, since we were both having a sleepless night.” He looks out over the saltlands, the paths of all the patrols laid out in seemingly bloody swaths. “And perhaps it’s easier to speak of certain things in the solitude of night than in the bustle of day.”

“What?” There is so much they could speak of, not that Ben has any idea of how they could start. Which is why it’s possibly a good thing his uncle did this.

“It’s not easy to say.” Luke drinks from his mug. “I was your teacher, as well as your uncle. To admit that I failed you, that despite how much I wanted... want to. I can’t help you.” He hisses. “Such failure is hard to live with.”

The sound of Kylo Ren’s mug shattering is barely a blip in the incandescent rage that explodes inside him. That his uncle thinks words enough to make up for what has happened, breaches that impenetrable barrier that had separated young Ben from everyone else all those decades ago now. How dare he say such things now that they’re meaningless, when they’re not even an apology…

“Ben!” Cold metal grasps Kylo Ren’s face. It’s followed by the sound of singing—his uncle’s voice is wholly unmusical—a diaspora song his mother had loved, and used to calm many a nightmare, when she’d been around to do so. “Shine little lights of ours, like the night full of stars, connected only from afar...”

Kylo-Ben-Ben-Ben forces himself to breath, makes himself fight past the desire for his saber—it’s so much dust now, like the rest of Starkiller—gives into the childish desire to lean into his uncle’s cold touch.

He can taste salt on his tongue. Not from tears, but from the fact that his rage had disturbed the salt, covering himself and Luke in the stuff. “Your pronunciation is terrible.” Alderaanian had been his first language, even before Basic. “Sorry,” he hunches into himself. Now only wishing he’d stayed in bed. It’s been so long since his anger has gotten the better of him, he’d thought it gone. Yet it’s clear he’s still as much a danger as he’s ever been.

Cold presses against his cheek more firmly, shocking him back into the now—Luke so rarely touches people with his prosthetic hand—before retreating. “You are no more, or less, dangerous than myself, or Rey, or Finn, or even your mother, nephew. No one was hurt, though I’m sad the hot chocolate is gone. As for my pronunciation, it’s certainly something I’ve heard enough from your mother.” Luke’s smile is still fond, which baffles Ben-Kylo. “But I’m glad you know now. Even if I can’t help you in every way I wish, perhaps we can still start you on your true path.” A weary sigh leaves him.

“Help how?” He shakes his head. “It seems you are my only choice, uncle, if I wish to try and be a Jedi again.”

“Perhaps not,” Luke says, almost slyly. “When I opened the Temple, I hunted down every bit of Jedi lore I could find. And in doing so heard rumors that there were some Jedi who had survived Order 66. I never managed to find one of them, but maybe you can.” His uncle looks at him. “At the very least you could open yourself more and try to lure in one of those who has passed. It could be they pass some bit of valuable information on.”

Ben narrows his eyes. “You make Force Ghosts sound like feral Loth cats.” He’s not sure the ghosts would appreciate the comparison.

Luke snorts. “Sometimes they might as well be. And…” Luke straightens, his blue eyes intent. “I am sorry, for all I failed to do.”

Ben slumps, if he’d had any anger left it would certainly be gone now. “I…” He doesn’t know what to say, if he’s able to forgive. He wants to be better, but it is a far deeper wound than his parents. “I’ve never been strong in that aspect of the Force, perhaps if I was, grandfather would have shaken some sense into my a long time ago.” Dwelling on ‘what ifs’ will do him no favors, as much as he finds himself prone to it on some occasions. He certainly hasn’t felt anything from his grandfather since the last time.

“Anakin is a hard one to reach even when one tries to speak with him.” Luke doesn’t sound too pleased with this himself. “There are others though who would be more open to speaking to you, even as shadowed as you are.” That’s perhaps the most polite way of saying it. “Maybe even some who would not have considered themselves Jedi or Sith.”

He vaguely recalls old lessons from the Temple, of how there had been Force users who hadn’t used Jedi or Sith titles, but the idea of his uncle, who’d wanted to start a new Jedi Order, suggesting Ben not be a Jedi is baffling in a way. “That’s if any of them want to talk to me,” he replies, only a little bitter.

His uncle shrugs. “If that fails, there are still old temples, perhaps one of them might give you some kernel of Truth that speaks to your ways of the Force.”

“Are you suggesting I leave?” It’s hard not to sound suspicious, especially when he’s had the thought himself already.

“Would that be so bad?” Is the reply he gets. “I know you’re happy enough here, and that you’ve managed to find people who love you .” There is some relief that there is no judgement in his uncle’s voice. “But you are stagnant in a way, just floating through the world, and the Force. I think you could still make something of yourself, find out who you were meant to be. But to do that...yes, it might require that you leave the Resistance. I can only hope that if you do leave you return to us, and share your Path with others who might not feel the call to be Jedi.” His uncle stands, and with an easy movement, removes all the salt covering him. “Just think about it.” He reaches out and squeezes Ben’s shoulder before walking off.

Breathing deep Ben looks over the saltlands, before standing himself. He makes a brief trip to the refreshers to clean himself up. Then goes back to his room, curling up in his bed alone.

-

In the morning he’s not surprised to find he’s not alone in his bed when he wakes. What is surprising is that it’s Poe. Reaching out he can feel Finn and Rey already training, Luke watching them with grave fondness.

Poe makes a sleepy mutter and nestles closer, making Ben-Kylo huff. Despite the action, he knows Poe is more awake than that. “I would have thought you’d be out, training or something.”

The comment earns him a soft laugh. “Doing night maneuvers when the sun sets. Gonna need all the sleep I can get.” Poe nestles closer, arms wrapping around Ben-Kylo’s chest. “Forget how much heat you throw off by yourself.”

“So glad you find me useful,” he sounds only mildly put out.

The comment earns him a nuzzle, and there is a growing contentment in his chest. The knowledge that it will go no further than that until he says so adding to it. “If you want to be even more helpful, you could bring that datapad over and we could watch Nabooian Nights.”

Another sound leaves him. “I thought we were supposed to be sleeping. Nevermind your interest in bad holonovellas.”

“Bad?” Poe sputters. “You clearly are lacking in taste, I think.”

“If I’m lacking in taste, what am I doing with you three?” He ribs back. Delighted and afraid that he’s said it.

Poe only sputters more. “Just bring over the kriffing pad.” Poe pinches Ben-Ben’s side in retaliation.

It makes Ben laugh softly, but he does bring the pad over.

-

A few hours later he makes himself leave the bed, and Poe. His stomach grumbling too much to ignore.

He’s not alone in the mess, but it’s fairly empty. Empty enough that he gets a whole table to himself after he gets his food. As he eats it’s all too easy to get lost in thought, turning over his uncle’s words in his head. Not exactly searching for a fault, but wanting to test how they feel. If perhaps his uncle is right.

“Excuse me.”

Blinking Kylo turns his head towards the voice, frowning a little at the woman in the technician’s uniform, her pale blonde hair loose around her shoulders. “Yes?” He can be civil, he can.

She gives a flicker of a smile. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

There’s something about that question that puts him vaguely on edge. But civil, he can show everyone that he’s not some feral man-child. He has manners , he knows how to be polite. “Sure.” It’s harmless, and he’s sure his mother would encourage him to make more friends. He’s almost done eating himself anyways.

“I’m Sheera, by the way. Sheera Holdo.” The last name pings in his head. His mother’s vice-admiral is a Holdo, the woman herself had been completely neutral towards him the few times they’d met. Which had been miles above some of the other Resistance leaders.

“Nice to meet you,” he mutters at his food. Despite wanting to leave, he makes himself take his last bites slowly. It’s easier to savor the caf he’d managed to get his hands on.

There’s a moment’s quiet, it’s actually quite nice, before she speaks again. “I know it’s been a week since we came to the base, but do you need help finding your way around?”

The words tangle him up, not at all what he expects. “No,” he answers flatly. He knows his way around, except perhaps maintenance, and if he wanted to figure those out he’d go hunt down Rose. “Thank you, though.” See, polite. His mother would be proud.

Holdo seems flummoxed by this however. “Oh. Well is there anything else you need help with? My aunt’s the vice-admiral, so I know people who know people.” Oh, that’s what she’s trying to do. She’s just trying to be clever about it.

He stands sharply, grabbing his tray. “No, thank you.” He starts to walk off.

A few seconds later he feels her hand on his arm. “Come on, just give me a chance.”

He does no such thing.

It’s all too easy to grab her with the Force, the feeling like settling into his favorite chair. She stares at him wide eyed as he turns, and her fear radiates through the Force. Around them he can hear what little conversation is happening dies down, as all eyes turn to them.

Whispers in his head tell him how it would be so easy, that he wouldn’t need to listen to her attempts at flattery and insinuation again. He begins to tremble and he can feel her lungs starting to beg for oxygen.

No.

He tears himself away, breaks his hold. Flees the mess. Once he’s in the hallways it’s all too easy to make himself unseen and slip into the maintenance tunnels. This time he finds himself noticing they’re not as empty as he thought they were as he tries to find an out of the way corner, but the crew who notice him quickly dart out of the way. It’s almost like being on the Finalizer again.

Kylo finds a corner that suits his needs, and folds himself into it. Right next to his ear he can hear the thrum of electricity and it’s easy to get lost in the sound and feel of it.

“Hey.”

He blinks, head turning slowly as his mind tries to figure out how long it might have been since he’d fled here. Even with his muzy brain he’s not quite surprised to see that it’s Rose standing next to him. “I don’t know if you’re doing it on purpose or not, but everyone’s getting kinda weird feelings? I volunteered to talk to you since I don’t think anyone else would get a word out.”

Another blink, but a flush of guilt does fill him. “Sorry,” he croaks. Carefully he untangles himself from the electricity, and the Force, winding himself back in until he’s mostly contained. “I got...caught up.” It’s been a long time since he’d been that sloppy.

“It’s alright, you can still stay here if you want, but, yanno, try not to freak anyone out?” He thinks her smile is trying to be reassuring. “What was it this time, Taffy?”

“Taffy?” He does his best not to sound incredulous.

She hoists herself up onto a ledge across from him. “I mean, what else am I supposed to call you when you haven’t given me a name?” It’s more of that...teasing. “But come on, despite being the younger sister I’m told I’m a good listener.”

Ben makes a sound that could be considered a laugh. “Someone was...pestering me, and I reacted...poorly. I’m sure my mother will yell at me when I come out, but I needed to center myself first.”

“Makes sense.” That she agrees is mildly baffling. “Do you feel bad about it?”

He shrugs. “One would think by now they’d understand I’m not interested in politics, or people who are only trying to befriend me because of who my mother is.” Rey, Finn, and Poe are enough of a circle for him. He is bad enough with people as it is, that he’s found three who tolerate him—and perhaps even enjoy his company.

Rose smiles. “Also makes sense, most people don’t want those sorts of people in their life. Maybe your mom could say something? Then at least they’ve been warned and they’ll have no one to blame but themselves for what happens when they don’t listen.”

“I’m not even sure I’m going to be staying.” It’s the first time he’s said it to someone else.

“It’s your life, you get to do what you want with it.” Her eyes narrow slightly. “Though I hope that doesn’t mean going back to the First Order.”

“No,” he answers with a bitter laugh. “My uncle thinks I’ve been stagnating here, even if I’m happy. That if I want to find out who I am, then leaving might be best. But I’d thought about it before he brought all that up.” 

Before she can answer he feels Rey approach. She smiles when she sees the both of them. “We were starting to get worried, especially with what we’ve been hearing.” He flushes at those words. She turns her attention to Rose. “Who’s this?”

“Rey, this is Rose, Rose, Rey.”

Rey sticks her hand out as she looks Rose over. “It’s nice to meet you.” Her eyes narrow when they land on Rose’s belt. “Is that a hyperlock spanner?” He bites his lip to keep from laughing at how covetous she sounds.

“Uh, yeah.” Rose unhooks it and offers it to her. “Do you need it for something?”

Taking it gingerly, Rey looks a little in awe.

Kylo knows he shouldn’t laugh. Rey’s only been off Jakku for a little over a month. Giving gifts, or being handed exactly what you needed, is still a strange and wonderful thing to her. That thought kills what little laughter struggles to leave him, and makes him almost want her never to get used to it. Just so he can see this expression on her face every time.

“Thank you. But…” Rey’s expression turns forlorn. “I don’t want to take it from you, maybe you’ll need it.”

Rose laughs. “Go right ahead, there’s four more hanging out in the tool shed if I need one.”

Rey’s eyes widen. “There’s a tool shed ?”

Once again Kylo makes himself scarce, deciding to let Rey make a new friend of her own. Reaching out briefly in the Force, Kylo can feel his mother waiting expectantly. Deciding he should face his consequences now he heads her way.

Only to run into Chewie as he’s making his way through the hangar. He doesn’t bother fighting when the Wookie sweeps him into a hug. Heard what happened. Good for you, kiddo. Chewie sounds fond.

Ben groans, but sinking into the softness of fur, the embrace of his uncle. “That didn’t take long. When did you get back?” His eyes track through the hangar, trying to spot the Falcon.

Not too long, Chewie rumbles.

“Long enough for you to apparently hear my exploits.” He arches an eyebrow. Granted he bets it’s hot gossip right now, whether he wants it to be or not. A very Wookie-like sound of annoyance leaves him.

Good try, maybe soon you’ll actually be good at it.

A snort leaves him. “What? Are you suggesting I move to Kashyyyk and become a Wookie?”

Chewie draws away, giving him a critical look. Not enough hair, too short too.

Ben laughs.

-

He does eventually make it to his mother, vice-admiral Holdo is there too. Neither of them are happy, but they listen to his explanation. And while he’s told not to do it again, and that he’ll have to apologize to Sheera Holdo, it could have been worse.

If he were still in the First Order it would have been worse.

He finds the younger Holdo at her station, eyes tracking the readouts flashing across her screen. Kylo makes his apology—even meaning it—and she accepts it. Though he can still feel the ripples of her fear.

The both of them are relieved when he retreats. He makes his way back to the hanger, more intent on finding the Falcon this time.

When he finds it, he blinks to see his father holding something, his annoyance clear. “I’m glad you’re back. But what is that?” It’s kind of cute, brown and white with large eyes. It trills when it sees him, wings that look too small for it’s body still managing to get enough lift that it reaches him. He catches it before it falls.

“Luke says they’re called porgs,” Han scowls. “Damn things have been on the Falcon for a month.” He picks up another one, eyeing it as debating how well it could be thrown.

“Thought you would have closed up the Falcon while you weren’t there.” The porg he’s holding nestles into the crook of his arm, chirping happily. Well if befriending other people fails, he guesses there’s always animals.

“I did, Ben,” his father’s voice grows fainter as he climbs back into the Falcon . Sighing, Ben follows. “They didn’t just wander on. Chewie brought them. Kriffing Wookie,” there’s no true heat to his father’s words however. “And I didn’t know. Space, should’ve figured it out when we’d still fresh eggs after two weeks in hyperspace.”

Ben finds himself biting back a faint smile. He catches another porg with the Force as his father throws it. “So clearly Chewie’s the better smuggler.”

“Har, har.” His father comes out of the lower rooms carrying three more of them. He gives Ben a look, a fond smile of his own crossing his face, despite the situation. “You’re looking good, kid. How you been holding up?”

“If I wanted to leave, would you help me?” He asks instead of answering. After three times, Ben can take a hint.

Concern flickers through is father. “What’s up?” Han’s expression darkens. “If anyone’s said anything to you, Ben…”

He shakes his head. “No.” It both comforts and aches, watching his father feel protective. Good to see it, but wishing it had happened far sooner. “I...I want to know who I am. I don’t think I can do that here.” He wishes he could though.

“Have you talked with your mother about this?” The porgs start off on a soft cooing conversation of their own.

“No,” he answers again. “With Luke though.” Which should reassure his father some.

A sigh. “If that’s what you really want to do, then yes, I’ll help. But think about it some more? Talk to Leia. Maybe your...partners.” It’s vaguely amusing that his father doesn’t quite know what to call Finn, Rey, and Poe—granted most days Ben doesn’t either. “Rey’s certainly got a good head on her shoulders.”

Yes, Ben knows that all too well.

“Alright.” It’s an easy enough thing to agree to.

Han nods. “Good. Now help me get these kriffing birds off my ship. Maybe the KP crew’ll find some use for them.”

Without thought, Ben reaches out for his uncle in the Force, quickly getting an answer. “Luke says they’re kind of oily, he never liked the taste. But the eggs are good.”

He gets an eye roll in response. “Well I know that.”

-

He does plan to talk to his mother next, but he finds it escaping him the next night as he climbs into bed, settling himself in the mass of naked, tangled limbs that are his partners—it’s as good a word as any. 

“Would you be okay with me leaving?” He asks as Rey settles against his front. His own cock is aching, but he feels no urge to do anything about that, and Rey is content to follow his lead.

At his question though she stills. “Why?” At his back he feels Finn snuggle closer, Poe on his other side, the both of them clearly interested about his answer too.

Without thought he runs a hand through her hair, eyes staring at the wall behind her. “I’ve...had the thought a few times now, and when Luke and I...talked the other night he suggested it as well. That it might...help with my...predicament.” He doesn’t know quite what else to call it.

“I…” Rey sighs, and he feels her hand trail down his arm until she can link her fingers with his, raising them both up. “I want you to stay,” she answers. “I don’t want to lose you, any of you.” She squeezes his hand. “But...I also know that if you want to go, I shouldn’t keep you. That’s bad.” Her smile is wan. “I’m just...afraid you won’t ever come back.”

He pulls her tighter against himself, bending his head down to kiss the top of her head. “I know.” She’s afraid he’ll be the same as her parents. That she’ll spend the rest of her life counting days again.

“This is an alone thing isn’t it?” Finn asks.

Ben-Kylo sighs. “Yes,” he answers. “I think it might have to be. I’m not sure the Resistance would appreciate losing their two Jedi and best pilot anyways.”

“Who said I’d follow you three nerfhearders? Ow.” Ben-Kylo-Ben smiles against Rey’s hair as Finn elbows Poe.

“But you can still comm us, and send messages right?” Finn continues.

He shrugs. “I can try,” he promises. “But I don’t exactly know where I’ll be going, or what sorts of tech I’ll come across, or if I’ll find Resistance spies willing to carry messages.” He knows there are likely dead drops, but those might never reach Crait, or wherever else the Resistance might move.

“Some will get through, though,” Rey responds. She tilts her head up to look at him. “I think if you gave me some time, I could get my hands on a binary tracker and mod it. It probably would work most of the time, enough for regular contact.” There’s a light in her eyes. She might enjoy her Jedi training, but she likes this too. Being able to make things, fix them, make them better.

“I still need to talk with my mother.” It’s not true agreement, but it’s all he can give at the moment.

Poe snorts. “Good luck with that.” Even if he can’t see the other man he can feel the shared sense of commiseration at the idea.

“General Leia is scary sometimes,” Finn agrees.

Ben understands this, on a certain level. In a way he agrees with it, she’s his mother after all, and mothers can be terrifying things. On the other hand, he also just can’t see it.

He draws a ragged breath. “Thank you.” He honestly doesn't know quite what for.

Rey moves her head again, kissing his throat. “Of course.”

-

It turns out it’s his mother who finds him. He’s eating breakfast with Rey and Rose, who are chatting excitedly about droid repairs, when his mother appears. “Ben.” A soft smile crosses her face. “Can we talk?”

He nods mutely and stands, noticing how Rose gapes. He feels a flush of embarrassment, having thought she’d known in some fashion. It seems not. No wonder she’d been friendly. Or perhaps knowing and seeing are two different things.

Together he and his mother leave the mess and tuck themselves into an alcove in the library. Almost immediately someone approaches. His mother doesn’t even turn to look at them, only flicks her wrist. And they’re alone.

She gives him a fuller smile this time. “Your uncle might have his ways in the Force, but I have mine too.” She winks.

“That didn’t feel like the Force,” he replies. Or if it was, it’d been too subtle for him to sense. Which is more than probable, considering. “What did you want to talk about, mother?” His own admission bubbles in his chest, eager to be spoken.

“The Force is different things to different people,” she answers. “I do believe Luke is still mildly annoyed I see the Force as only a useful tool.” He snorts. She takes his hands in hers, and he’s fully reminded of how much older she is, and yet how much strength she still carries. “Your father suggested you might have something to say to me.” She arches an eyebrow.

An aggravated sound leaves him, earning him a laugh. “I do,” he admits. “But...you might not like it.” He’s not sure if he means as a mother, or as a general.

“I want you to tell me anyways. Not being told is a far worse fate.” For a moment he’s awash in her feelings. No, memories of feelings. Her anguish and fear when he’d first vanished all those years ago. How angry she’d been at Luke for his tight-lipped silences. How that anger had joined with horror when she’d read the letter Luke had left before vanishing; his admission of failure, of almost killing Ben, and the shame at being so tempted.

How she believed, even now, that she might have been able to do something, if only she’d been a better mother.

“No,” Kylo says. He absently runs a thumb over her rings, lingering on a gold and sapphire one—one of the last pieces she had from the man she’d called father. “Snoke…” It leaves something of a bitterness in him as he’s realized the voice he’d heard as a child wasn’t his grandfather at all. “He would have found another way to reach me.”

A sigh, and it’s easy to bear her weight when she leans into him. “I know. But it’s what a mother does, at least if she really cares. I’m sorry, Ben. It does not do to dwell too much on the past, but that seems to be all we do sometimes.”

It’s awkward to bend down and kiss her head, but he does it anyways. “I know. In a way...moving forward is what I wanted to ask you about. I...I want to leave the Resistance.”

“That, is certainly not what I expected,” there’s a thread of amusement in her voice. “Why, if I may ask.”

“I...I need to know who I am. I, I can stand you, father, and Luke calling me Ben, but...I can’t be him. Perhaps if things had gone differently when I was a child I could have been, but Ben is gone, lost forever.”

“I know,” his mother echoes. “That’s the only name I have for my son, though. Kylo Ren is far more dead than Ben is.” She reaches up to cup his cheek. “Not that he is someone a parent would be proud of, at least not one like me. You don’t think you can find yourself here?”

He shakes his head. “I wish I could, it’s...good to be here, with people who love me.” Even if he feels like he’s experiencing love for the first time. “But I also have to do something. I’m not made for sitting around and meditating.” He gives her a tentative smile.

She smiles back, in knowing agreement. “As your mother I wish you well, and hope when you return I’ll finally know the name of my son.” He bends down again so she can kiss his cheek. “As the leader of the Resistance I can’t exactly say yes. Too many people are still wary of you, half-afraid this is all some elaborate trap by the First Order.”

That’s what he was afraid of. “Then it’s a good thing I know people.”

-

The rooms in the base here are only slightly larger than they’d been on D'Qar, meaning having four people moving around in one doesn’t feel quite as crowded. But they still find reasons and ways to bump up against each other, to offer comfort.

Especially considering the might be the last night all four of them are together. Ben-Kylo doesn’t know when he’ll be back, and finds himself lingering over little things.

Poe bumps shoulders. “So…”

He eyes the other man. “What?” He can feel intent, and a little bit of nervousness coming from Poe. Best to get it out now.

“I was wondering...if you might let me do something.” Poe rubs the back of his neck. “It’s something my parents used to do, before one of them went out on missions. I thought, it might be something we could start doing.”

Kylo-Ben doesn’t probe too deeply, but he does get flickers of warm and fond memories, of love. “What is it?”

Poe turns his attention from Kylo-Ben-Ben to Rey and Finn. “I’ll need some scissors, and uh, a bit of your hair.”

Ben frowns a little at this. But Rey and Finn both seem curious and interested. And there’s something fond about Poe running his hands through Finn and Rey’s hair, searching out the best place to clip from.

He sets all of them on the table, and after a little work has a lock made out of all three of their hairs. “You’ll have to sit down, need a better angle.”

Ben-Kylo huffs, but sits.

“Kriff, always forget how thick your hair is.” It’s more fondness than gripe however. And it’s nice to have Poe’s fingers weaving through, parting his hair a little before he starts to...braid. Oh.

Rey gets as close as she can, clearly watching. “What’s it for?” Her eyes track the movements of Poe’s fingers, and Ben-Kylo wonders if she’ll start trying to braid her own hair.

“It’s…” Poe huffs. “I guess I never really asked my parents why they did it. I only knew that they did. Maybe because this way they’d always have a little part of the other while they were away on long missions. I don’t really recall anyone else on Yavin 4 doing it, though.”

“Can you do it for us too?” Finn asks in a rush.

Which seems to catch Poe off guard. “I...sure? Almost done here. Though I guess I’ll need to cut some of yours, too.”

Rey gives a deft nod. “Yes, us also.” She gives him a brilliant smile. “So we can have a little bit of you with us.”

Heat crawls up his neck, but he nods. Poe finishes the braid, then clips a lock of Ben’s hair. Curiosity drives him to go see what Poe’s work is like—he can feel the braid on the side of his neck, but it’s not the same as seeing. He pushes his hair back and turns his head slightly to get a better look in the mirror.

Poe’d put the braid right behind his ear, and quite well, to Ben’s surprise. Poe’s hair is almost indistinguishable from his own, but Rey’s and Finn’s stand out; Rey’s because of color, and Finn’s from the texture.

With his free hand he touches it, running the thumb over it. Feeling the warmth and love in those strands.

Letting his hair fall back into place he turns, to see Poe teaching Rey how to do Finn’s hair. The braid so far a tight line across the side of Finn’s head, their hair standing out clearly against Finn’s own.

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d be good at this,” Ben-Kylo says as he settles in next to Rey. She lets him drape himself over her, though her focus remains on Poe. “Thank you, though. I...it means a lot.”

Poe shrugs. “We got bored a surprising lot, and no pilot wants helmet hair. Not if we can help it.” He flashes a charming smile. 

“I like it,” Rey says again. “It’s a good...tradition?” She tests out the word, as if not sure it’s the one she’s looking for. 

“Tradition,” Ben confirms for her.

Finn gives a smile, clearly trying not to move too much. “Yeah, I like the sound of that.”

“Shut up,” Poe gripes. “You’re all gonna make me cry, then who’s going to do your hair?”

-

Ostensibly, Ben’s ‘helping’ his father go over checks on the Falcon before Han leaves for another round of smuggling. In truth, of course, he’s leaving too.

He’s already said his goodbyes to his partners, the binary tracker Rey’d shoved into his hands feels warm in his pocket, and to Luke—Leia’s in meetings, but he’d touched her through the Force. So now there’s nothing left but to leave. He finds himself anxious for it, almost hyper-aware of everyone around him.

“Hey, Taffy.” Rose’s voice startles him and he blinks down at her. Baffled, perhaps in a good way, that she’d surprised him. She walks up the gangplank and grins at him. “You weren’t thinking of leaving without saying goodbye to me, too, were you?” More teasing.

“I’m not leaving,” the lie comes smoothly. “Han just doesn’t trust most people with the Falcon,” which is the truth.

Which earns him a look from Rose. “Rey told me,” she responds. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell anyone else, but I do want to say goodbye.” Surprising him yet again, she pulls him into a hug. It takes him a long moment before he thinks to return it.”Um,” she mutters into his shirt. “This probably isn’t really the right time or place, but...uh, what is it you four exactly have?”

He frowns at her head. His silence apparently pushing her to babble.

“Because I kind of like Finn, but if it’s just the four of you, then I can deal with my feelings like a big person. I just...wanted to know.” She pulls away from him, her cheeks vividly red and her gaze refusing to meet his.

It takes him perhaps longer than is polite to dredge up an answer. “Somedays I wonder what we are myself,” that’s almost a joke. “If you want Finn, talk to him , not me.” He doesn’t it see it being a problem; Rey enjoys talking with Rose and probably considered her a friend, Poe pretty much liked everyone, and Finn. Well, Finn would likely be surprised by the admission, but he could see the other man being curious.

“I will, I wanted to feel things out first, I guess.” She shuffles her feet, but meets his gaze finally. “Thanks though, and I hope you find what you’re looking for.” She gives him a faint smile before walking off.

“Hey, kiddo, need your help in here if you’re done being moony.”

He turns and heads into the ship, giving his father a look of his own. Han’s unphased however.

There’s a smuggling hatch open and he drops into it without a second thought. “Get you out in a bit,” Han says as he settles the grating back on top.

It’s not a true darkness, but it’s hard to make out what’s around him. Not that it bothers him, Ben-Ben settling in easy. Recalling the only other time he’d been in one of the Falcon ’s caches. How angry his mother had been when they’d returned. Seemingly uncaring of how much fun it had been.

This time she knows, if still ‘unapproving’ of the whole situation.

Above him he hears Chewie, and if he reaches out with the Force he can sense his father making small talk with the control tower as he waits for clearance. He doesn’t stretch himself further than the Falcon though.

Liftoff is a bit of a lurch, and Ben-Kylo-Ben is certain he could get out if he wanted to, but he’s content to wait for now.

He knows it shouldn’t be this easy, but it is.

Despite his father saying he’d get him, once Ben feels the lurch of the Falcon jumping into Hyperspace he pops the grating with a light Force push. Before he’s even started to climb out Chewie’s there, hand outstretched and rumbling a question of concern.

“I’m fine, Chewie.” Even though he could haul himself out he takes Chewie’s hand. After they’ve put the grate back in they make their way to the cockpit.

Han gives a grin to both of them. “See Chewie, I still got it.”

It’s hard for Ben not to snigger when Chewie begins listing off all the times Han clearly didn’t ‘have it.’ Quite a few of them involving Leia coming to the rescue.

Their banter falls into the background as Ben lets himself get lost in the rush of hyperspace around them.

-

The hanger they land in is like any other across countless planets, but it does feel nice to breathe fresh air again, feel solid ground beneath his feet. He doesn’t move far from the Falcon just yet, knowing that when his father’s done haggling with the tech over fuel he’ll want to talk. Chewie already having enveloped him in a spine-cracking hug and told him to not draw attention.

A minute later Han’s grumbling, but there. “You sure you don’t want to come to Cloud City? Lando’d love to see you,” it’s not quite cajoling.

He shakes his head though. “Tell him I said hi. But I need to be on my own right now.”

“Eh, I could hope.” Han reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. Easy enough to know it’s for him, he holds out his hand.

Only to stare as his father drops his lucky dice, and that gold and sapphire ring of his mother’s, into his palm. “We wanted you to have these,” his father’s voice is gruff.

Ben-Ben-Ben resists the urge to argue. Without a second thought he slips on the ring, the weight is unfamiliar, and he can feel something on the inside of the band rubbing against his finger—now’s not the time to inspect it however. “You sure you don’t need the dice?” He’ll argue for that, just a little.

His father snorts. “Don’t need much luck when I’ve got Chewie hounding me.” Inside the Falcon, Chewie yowls in agreement.

So he slips it on, the gold warming against his skin as he tucks it into his shirt. Picking up his bag he does a final check of himself. Credit chips tucked away, a vibro-blade, blaster—even if he’s not much of a good shot it’s better than nothing—a few changes of clothes in the bag, and some rations too. He’s as ready as he’ll ever be, then.

“You take care of yourself, you hear.” Han’s eyes are watery and Ben doesn’t fight the desire to hug his father.

“I’ll do my best,” he answers.

They part and Ben-Kylo-someone heads towards the exit. Halfway to the door he can hear the Falcon start to take off, the sound a goodbye all it’s own. He leans against the rough wall for a moment and just listens as it flies off.

As he pushes away from the wall he feels the ring, reminding him of it’s secret. He slips it off as he walks, finding a spot of light to inspect it.

The Alderaanian words translate easily, even now. Love is stronger than a candle. Love can ignite the stars.

It sounds like part of a poem, or some quote. Ben-Kylo might not know the context, but he knows how right the words feel inside him. He slips the ring back on, feeling those words against his skin, a constant reminder.

Taking a deep breath he steps out of the dark tunnel into the light of the street.

-

Theed is alive, crowded, and so full of light. All good reasons that he’s chosen it.

That it is also his grandmother’s birthplace is not quite secondary.

He finds himself noticing how green it is too. Perhaps when he’s himself—whomever that might be—and things are peaceful he’ll bring Rey and the others to Naboo. He knows she’ll appreciate the lushness around him.

Right now it’s probably good he’s alone. Naboo isn’t occupied by the First Order, but there are clear signs of it. The most pressing being the wanted poster for Kylo Ren, unmasked, that appears on a nearby screen for a minute before it moves onto an advertisement. With his hair pulled back and his more ‘normal’ clothes he knows most people won’t give him a second glance. But that won’t stop bounty hunters, or anyone desperate for credits.

So he does his best to radiate unimportance, the irony of it amusing. He doesn’t plan on staying on Naboo long anyways, just a few days to get used to being on his own before seeking out a ship that won’t think too hard on his lack of a name, that’ll take him further into the mid-rim.

Buying some fruit from a vendor, he eats as he makes his way through the city, no true goal in mind just yet.

A pulse of darkness passes around him through the Force.

Kylo doesn’t stop to think, casually making his way to an alley he goes up and up and up. Only stopping when he reaches the roof. The darkness hadn’t been searching, but whomever had sent it would feel the break in that circle. Even if they went to where he’d been he finds himself doubting he’ll be found quickly. So few sentients thought to look up.

“You’re late.”

The blaster all but jumps into his hand as he whirls around. He aims it at the hooded figure, a woman if the voice is any indication, who seems to have appeared out of thin air. Cautiously he reaches out with the Force, she doesn’t feel Dark, but that doesn’t mean he lowers his guard.

“Good instinct,” the woman says, carefully stepping forward. Orange hands wearing gray fingerless gloves appear, outstretched in a gesture that suggests ‘peace.’ “You have no reason to trust me just yet, but I was sent here to meet you.”

He frowns at that, narrowing his eyes. “By who?” He doesn’t lower the blaster. She’s close enough that he couldn’t miss unless he really tried.

She shrugs. “You wouldn’t know the name if I told you,” she sounds almost amused by this. “But he seems to think we would be well matched, that you need a guide and mentor as you begin your second journey through the Force. ‘Neither Jedi, nor Sith, is what he needs.’ His words, not mine.”

This could all be a trick, Snoke, or some enterprising Knight of Ren, having sent this woman to seek him out. That one of them would know he’d arrived on Naboo only a few hours ago does seem a stretch, however. He holsters the blaster, but keeps himself ready.

The woman, who’s short, but that also doesn’t mean much compared to him, stops a few steps away from him. “So what’s your name?”

A bark of laughter leaves him as he shakes his head. “That’s part of what I’m looking for,” he can be honest about that, at least.

Enough light reaches into her hood that he can see an answering smile on her lips. Her hands rise up to push away her hood, revealing her to be Togruta. Her lekku and montrals stand out in white and blue. “Well then, Stranger.” Her blue eyes are sparkling. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Ahsoka.”

“Now how about we go somewhere a little more private and secure?” She holds out her hand.

Not knowing if it’s the right thing to do or not, he takes it.

Chapter Text

“Again.”

Barring his teeth he takes first stance again, the heavy stick in his hands still not familiar enough to be comfortable. With what feels like agonizing slowness he goes through the stances of Soresu, Ahsoka watching carefully.

Around them the wind rushes through the tall grasses—not Naboo, but an uninhabited planet in the Outer Rim—strong enough to almost fight his movements. The thought gives him somewhere to push his energy, the frustration of having to do something so...boring. He’d learned Soresu as a padawan, and while he knows Ahsoka’s intention, he still finds it mind numbing after a fashion. So he pushes back against the wind, making it his partner in the spar.

“Stop.”

Letting the stick fall to his side his breathing begins to return to normal, rooting himself to the ground as the wind tries to push him over.

Ahsoka comes to a stop in front of him, one of her own lightsabers in hand. “You are not fighting the wind, Stranger. You are learning to control yourself, that is the way of Soresu.” She offers the saber, taking her second one in her other hand. “Perhaps you will do better with an attacker. Soresu only.”

“Yes, Master.” He ignites the saber as he lets the stick drop. The white of the blade still vaguely off-putting, even to him.

She narrows her eyes. “I am not your Master,” she replies as she ignites her other blade. “ We are not Jedi.” Her stance is loose, Shien, ready for anything. “You are a Seeker and I am your Guide. And right now you learn to control yourself.” She attacks.

He fights his instinct to retaliate. Control, focus, Soresu meant every move had to count, had to have a purpose in the grand scheme.

It seems only fitting that Ahsoka—’Master’ had been a habit, one apparently hard to break even though he refuses to be a Jedi, to be an Apprentice, anymore—uses the Form he himself prefers. Or near enough.

He can’t quite predict her attacks, but he knows what the Form’s capable of, how he can use Soresu to defend. He perhaps should at least be relieved she’s not making him do Niman.

“Why do you not like that Form?” She spins away as he deflects.

Shifting his weight back is a risk, but he trusts it. “My uncle,” he replies. He hasn’t been reluctant to tell her of his past, but he has been wary. But he’s discovered if he tells her bits of his, he gets some of hers in return. “It’s the Form he taught first, said the other five were good to know, but Niman would be all we needed as Jedi.”

She pushes forward, her blade connecting with his, her own strength and the Force attempting to push him back. But he’s already braced. With an exhale he pushes forward, forcing her from him.

A nod, he’s doing good then. “It is the Form that was favored by the Temple, even after we joined the Clone Wars. Though even then we didn’t rely solely on it. ‘Too soft,’ as my Master once said.” She reingages. “Good for the ideal of the Jedi, but the reality required otherwise. And six.”

Blinking he almost lets her blade through. “What?”

Breaking off she disingages her blade, he does the same. “There are seven forms. You said you had experience with the Knight of Ren, I thought you would have known that.” She snorts. “They use Juyo, though honestly it’s barely even that.”

He frowns at her. “No.” He casts his mind back, how the other Knights had pushed him to rely on his emotions more than he was used to when fighting, but it hadn’t felt like a different Form. Just a more intense combination of Djem So, and Ataru. Forms he’d taken to when he realized his grandfather had favored them. “I don’t recall seeing them use that.” Hedging that he’d been Kylo Ren was hard, soon he knew he’d have to tell her that truth. For now she seemed content with the facts that he’d been part of the First Order, that he’d had frequent contact with the Knights of Ren. He didn’t know what she thought his function had been.

She lets out a slow exhale. “It doesn't surprise me, they might not be Sith, but they’re secretive like them. Juyo is the prefered Form of most Dark users. It was forbidden for Jedi to learn by the Temple. It required your anger and other emotions as fuel. Only when Master Windu formed it into Vaapad was it considered and accepted. Hungry?”

Nodding he moves to help her get the meal ready.

“Though the other Masters were reluctant to teach it, or even learn it in the first place, and,” she shrugs. “Only a few decades later the Order had fallen. If I knew it I’d teach it to you, Stranger. Maybe we’ll get lucky and Windu left a holocron. I think it would fit you better, you’re not one to be separate from your emotions.”

“What gave that away?” He drawls.

It earns him an arched browmark as she hands him a plate. “Keep that up and I’ll make it a test to try and contact Windu’s ghost. That man was too stubborn not to leave one, even if Yoda didn’t have the time to teach it.”

-

Restlessly his thumb rubs over the lower sapphire in his mother’s ring—love can ignite the stars, pressing into his skin—while in his other hand the binary pulses, seeking out it’s mate. Inside his heart races, it’s the first real chance he’s had to contact his partners and he wants to hear them, to speak with them.

“Hello?” Rey’s voice breaks the quiet; breathless, like she’d raced to the comm.

“Rey.” His smile shines through his voice.

“R’iia’s shorts! It worked!” She shrieks. He imagines the way she bounces, the face-splitting smile she’s wearing. “Finn! Oh kriff, why’d Poe have to go on that mission? Master Luke! Find Rose!” A heartbeat. “Please?”

He bites his lip to keep from laughing. Closing his eyes he can almost feel her joy and excitement. “How are things over there?”

“Good!” He wonders how long it’s going to take for the excitement to die out of Rey’s voice. “Master Luke said he was going to take us to find our kyber crystals soon. I can’t wait to build my saber.” That doesn’t surprise him in the least. “Finn’s things are more interesting though.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Finn’s voice is full of love and fondness. “Good to hear from you. Master Luke started teaching us healing, and I think, I think that’s what I’m gonna do. Oh, and uh, Rose and I’re…”

Ben-Kylo smiles. “Good. I’m glad.” He doesn’t know how he’ll fit into the new way of things when he returns, but he’s willing to try at the very least. Rey, he knows, won’t let him fall behind unless he wants to. Nevermind Finn becoming a healer, that doesn’t surprise him at all. 

“What about you?” It almost comes out a chorus from Finn and Rey.

He leans his head against one of the jump seats in Ahsoka’s ship, feeling the engine thrum as they idle in space—all he knows is that they’re waiting for what she called her ‘job,’ but he has no idea what that entails. “I’ve met someone, not like that,” he cuts Rey off before she can even begin to ask questions. “She’s my teacher, her name’s Ahsoka. She’s...interesting. Different from Luke, and Snoke. I hope I can introduce you some day.”

“We’d love that,” Finn says.

A sharp whistle from Ahsoka pulls him out of the bubble his world had become. “Sorry, I’ve got to go. I’ll try and comm again soon.” Though he has no idea when soon will be.

“‘Course,” Rey agrees. “Love you.”

“Love you,” Finn repeats.

He blinks back tears. “Love you.” He ends the call.

Ahsoka doesn’t comment on the damp eyes. “They sound like good people.”

“They are,” his smile is a little watery. “Without them I’d still…” He drifts off. A welcome distraction comes from the grav-lock activating. The ship pumping air into the space that now connected it to another ship. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve done this a few times now.”

The hatch opens, and he gently probes the ship as their door opens too. Determination, and fear.

A second later a stormtrooper steps through the hall.

Kylo’s body tenses, ready for the upcoming fight. Of course, Ahsoka had been too good to be true. How much had been the truth? And how much a lie?

“Peace, Stranger.” Ahsoka’s hand rests on his shoulder. “Look again.”

Barring his teeth, he does. It’s almost a whole squadron of ‘troopers now. But...none of them are armed. And as the first one steps onto the ship they...rip their helmet off, tossing it to the side. His features remind Kylo of Rose’s, and he looks...scared. The others soon follow suit, all of them humanoid—which doesn’t surprise him in the least, knowing Hux.

Ahsoka steps forward. “Welcome. I’m Specter, and this is my ship, the Liberator Minerva.”

The first male steps forward. “I...thank…” He starts to shake, armor clattering as he begins to collapse.

Ahsoka catches him easily, holding her to him as he begins to cry. “It’s alright. I know leaving was hard, but you did it.” Through the Force she nudges him up towards the pilot’s cabin.

Leaving her to tend to the ‘troopers, he settles into the pilot’s seat. How would Finn feel, knowing he’s not the last to desert the First Order, perhaps not even the first? Taking a shaky breath of his own he does his best to keep himself separate from the sea of emotion behind him. There’s coordinates plugged into the hyperspace nav, and he doesn’t need to bump Ahsoka to know that’s where they’re headed.

The ancient ship—he’s pretty sure it’s even older than the Falcon—lurches a little as they jump into hyperspace. He makes himself comfortable, content to pilot while Ahsoka helps settle their passengers.

-

Another lurch as the ship drops out of hyperspace. A planet sits below them, a mix of brown, green, and blue, and seemingly flawless from this height. The readout screen next to him tells him this is Lothal. The First Order won’t be more than a whisper here then. There had been mentions of occupying it like the Empire had, but ‘reasons’ why it would be a poor choice kept piling up, even if half of them had been ridiculously false. So it’d happily been put aside in favor of ‘better’ planets.

The scanner picks up a mid-sized city in the Northern hemisphere, and begins to head that way.

“No,” Ahsoka’s hand lands on his shoulder, as she joins him. “But follow the main road out east, there’s a landing spot marked out in the plains.” 

“How’re…” The fear and grief behind him has begun to turn to deep intent.

“Fine.” She collapses into the co-pilot’s seat. “They’re all deciding on names. At least once we drop them off they’ll be taken care off.”

“How?” He’s not quite sure how to make the question more clear. His face might now be scattered about half the galaxy, but he doubts most in the First Order still knows what he looks like. The ‘troopers certainly wouldn’t be calm knowing they flew with the former Kylo Ren.

She lets out a bark of laughter. “I certainly didn’t intend it. But there are moles in the First Order, and when one of them sent me a message a few years ago about ‘troopers wanting to desert...I couldn’t say no. Well, say no and live with myself.” She shrugs. “It’s not the first time I’ve handled refugees, and more the First Order loses, the better chance the Resistance has.”

Spotting the spot she’d mention he begins landing procedures.

“Perhaps if things had gone differently I would have been the one helping you escape the First Order, too.”

He huffs, not believing it for a moment, but not willing to argue with her either. Shutting the ship down he has no choice but to follow Ahsoka back out into the main area. All of the stormtroopers have shed their armor, all of it in one big pile on the floor. Some of them clutch datapads, while others talk quietly.

“Come on,” Ahsoka opens the main hatch. “And bring your armor, ”she says to the troopers. She steps closer to him. “You know how to make a fire?”

“Yes.”

She gives a nod. “Go start one then.”

He breathes fresh air and looks around for a good spot. He finds one, in that there’s a place next to a rock spire where the ground is black from previous fires, and a stack of wood and kindling. Considering the size of the blackened area it looks more like they need a bonfire. He builds it anyways.

Closing his eyes he lets the heat of it sink into him, behind him he can feel the troopers and Ahsoka approaching.

“Your old life is over,” Ahsoka’s voice has the cadence of repetition. “And your new life is about to begin. So throw the trappings of that old life into the fire, so you can rise up like the phoenix, full of hope and light.”

Kylo-Ben-Ben steps away from the bonfire. Opening his eyes he watches what was once a uniform group become disparate people, throwing their armor onto the fire for it to catch and begin to burn.

Then it’s over, and they’re stormtroopers no more.

“This way,” Ahsoka turns—she’s carrying a helmet of her own he notices, from a shocktrooper. She leads them deeper into the plains, until he sees bumps in the distance that aren’t the rock spires he expects, but buildings.

It’s a small town, and when they enter Kylo can feel everyone’s eyes on them, although the people call out greetings to Ahsoka. Which only relaxes him a little. They enter a cantina, The White Loth-Cat the sign over the door had read, and now he’s the one staring.

A colorful mural covers nearly every inch of wall, and as he follows it he realizes it tells a story, one of rebellion, and hope. On the wall behind the bar there’s a display of helmets, Imperial and First Order; which would explain the helmet Ahsoka carried.

Meows sound at his feet, looking down he finds he’s being crowded by loth-cats—none of them are white, he notices absently—the expressions on their faces clearly expectant. They follow him as he steps aside from the door.

With a sigh he crouches down, holding his hand out for them to sniff. This seems to content most of them, and they wander off through the cantina. Two stick around however and he reaches out to begin scratching the spotted of the two. “This is definitely not how I was expecting this cycle to go.” He supposes there are worse things.

“No one ever does,” a woman’s voice says above him. “I’d offer you a drink, but it looks like you have your hands full,” amusement fills her voice.

He looks up to see a green Twi'lek woman, a tray in her hands, smiling down at him. “I’m Hera.”

“I...don’t have a name.” He could feel the tips of his ears burning. The second loth-cat moved to rest it’s front paws on his thigh, ducking it’s head under his free arm, clearly demanding he pet it too.

“Couldn’t find one on Ahsoka’s list you liked? It happens, we won’t hold it against you. And you’re in no rush to pick a name.”

Ben shakes his head. “No, not a trooper. I’m travelling with Ahsoka, she’s...training me.” He hears her laughter and turning his head slightly he spots her leaning against the bar, laughing with a man on the other side, dark hair only just starting to gray. The man picks up the helmet Ahsoka offers him and turns to the wall, frowning in mock-focus.

“Jedi?” Hera asks. “That hasn’t happened in a while. I’m sure Ezra would be excited to meet you, once the loth-cats let you go.”

His ears are definitely burning now. Ben-Kylo doesn’t correct her about being a Jedi, and Hera seems content that the conversation is over and moves on.

Legs starting to burn from the strain Kylo-Ben moves from crouching to sitting, the floor clean enough that he doesn’t mind doing it. This prompts a few more of the loth-cats to return. He expects he won’t be getting up any time soon.

Which doesn’t bother him, outside of Ahsoka he doesn’t really know anyone here, and is content to keep to himself. Half-afraid he might let something slip and send the troopers into a panic about him being here when they’re supposed to be safe now. Better to stay with the cats who don’t care who he is.

One attempts to bite his fingers, and he flicks it gently with the Force. “No.” He flicks the next cat that does the same. Only for all of them to start doing it, making him realize he’s made some game for them. Loth-cats.

It’s more bemusing than truly angering however.

A low whistle sounds and the cats scatter, except the first one he’d petted, who’d now crawled into his lap. Paws kneading his stomach while it purred loud enough that he’s certain he’s vibrating at the same frequency. When he looks up to see who’d whistled, he’s met with the man he’d seen Ahsoka talking with earlier. Who promptly joins him on the floor.

“Ezra,” he says by way of greeting. The loth-cats return, crowding him, not that he seems bothered by it. “Be nice to have someone new to spar with, that is if you’re interested.”

These people are weird. “I don’t have a saber,” which isn’t a yes or a no, he knows.

“‘Soka says you do just fine with hers. You’re welcome to it, by the way.”

“What?” He blinks at the older man. There is a moment of surprised shock when he realizes Ezra can’t be much older than his mother, or uncle Luke. Guilt nips at his heels at the realization, however. Grief and regret having aged his family far more than it should have.

“The cat,” Ezra smiles. “We’ve certainly got enough here, and it likes you.”

Kylo-Ben-Ben looks down at the cat, which looks back up at him, face splitting wide in a toothy grin.

“‘Course that means you have to name it.”

He groans. “I can’t even think of my own name, and you expect me to name a cat?”

Scooping up two cats of his own, Ezra stands. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

-

Cold, he can’t recall a time he’d ever been this cold. It had been cold on Starkiller, but this was a cold far deeper than that.

It didn’t help that he’d refused the gloves Master Luke had offered. The duet thrumming at the base of his skull had been up, gloves would only make the climbing harder. He’s still climbing up, muttering to himself as he feels Master Luke, still far below, patiently waiting.

“A ripple starts the wave, a pebble starts the avalanche. It only takes one being to say ‘no more’, and I will do my best to be that being when it is needed most.” Over and over, not quite a Code, but the closest he’s come so far.

Finally the duet stops coming from above him and moves to the left, through a crevice the perfect size for a scavenger like him…

Oh

The exact same surprise echoes between him and Rey as they part.

“How?” She whispers as she inches her way over to the crevice.

All he can do is shrug. “How should I know? Ilum?” He remembers when Luke brought him and some of the other padawans here to find their crystals. The song he’d felt then nothing like the one Rey had.

Rey nods instead of answering, slipping into the crack. “Space, why is it so cold?” She turns her head to smile at him though. “I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to do this on my own though, so shoo.”

He nods back, knowing she’s telling the truth. “Good luck,” he’s sad he won’t get to wish Finn the same.

Not quite knowing what to do he thinks of himself, in all his jagged strangeness, hoping that will be enough to return him to his own body.

-

With a shaky breath he wakes up. His head aches and he feels...stretched thin. Thinner than Corellian taffy, he huffs.

He doesn’t even have to open himself to the Force to try and see if Ahsoka is awake. He’s already as open as he can be. Lothal is bright and warm around him, shot through with faint shadows; Ahsoka and Ezra almost twin flames.

He finds them sitting outside. Not the cantina, but a nearby house that Ben, or Kylo, would have called farm-like. Above all of them stars shine bright, helping him spot his way. When he sits Ezra offers him a bottle.

“Are you alright?” Ahsoka’s voice floats through the soft darkness. “I felt something through the Force.”

Ben-Ben-Kylo takes a swig, the fruitiness of the drink almost covering up the faint burn of alcohol—certainly tasted better than the stuff the Resistance pilots made. “I...I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “I thought it was a dream, but I was...with Rey? One of my partners, she’s training to be a Jedi,” he clarifies for Ezra. “She was on Ilum, crystal hunting. I thought I was her, until we both realized we were separate, then...I woke up.” Despite knowing too much distance was between them, he finds himself reaching out for Rey, hoping to feel a spark of her sunlight signature.

His heart stutters when he does.

Furrowing his brow he hunts through the lessons Luke taught him—nothing he’d learned from Snoke would provide the answers he sought. “Force Bonds? But I thought those were…”

“Rare?” Ahsoka provides.

“I didn’t even know those were really a thing,” Ezra adds bemusedly. “I knew there was a bond between teacher and student, but I didn’t know others could be created.”

Ahsoka shrugs. “People can make them,” is all she says.

“My uncle said the Force made them, connecting people.” Had the Force connected him and Rey, for some reason neither of them knew? Or had they made the connection themselves? In either case, why had it taken so long for them to realize? “Or at least it could make a bond deeper than the one a teacher and student had.” Not that Luke had created the latter with the padawans who’d been at his academy. One person connected to that many children and teenagers sounded awful.

His comments earn him a snort from Ahsoka. When he looks at her in askance she straightens. “The Force can’t create bonds,” her tone takes on the one he associates with lessons. “It’s an ocean,  alive only by virtue of the beings that live inside it. It has no will, no intentions. It is, and it is only what we do with it that makes us, and it, good or bad. Just as any other action. It certainly isn’t conscious enough to think to connect two people.”

He frowns a little. “Then why ‘as the Force wills it?’” He’s not saying it to be contrary. But it’s certainly a phrase he’s heard often; mostly from his uncle Luke, a few times from his mother—but never since he came back.

Asoka, thankfully, doesn’t seem to mind the question. “The beings that live inside it. Some are so deeply entwined with the Force that they can make their will manifest. I’ve had the misfortune to meet four of them in my life.” Her blue eyes grow distant for a moment. “They have plots and ideas of how the universe should be, and the power to try and make it so. They are the ‘will of the Force’ as you say. But for the most part there is only us, and the vastness of the Force. All things within being as they are.” She makes a face. “It was one of them who directed me to you, and I’m sure he’ll want to meet you some time. But for the most part one should try to avoid them.”

Her words resonate inside him, little things falling into place. That perhaps he’s met one too, and been under his thumb for most of his life.

“She’s right about the Force beings,” Ezra says. “But the Force is alive, just like planets are,” something about his tone suggests they’ve had this argument before, and would continue to have it. “It’s just so vast and deep that any sentient being couldn’t comprehend it.

“But it’s there, alive and connecting everything together. Good and evil and every shade in between.” Ezra’s own blue eyes seem to glow with the passion in his words. “Being able to use the Force doesn’t make us special, or important, it just means we have another choice to make. A talent that ties us deeper into the galaxy. To try and cut yourself off from the people and places you’re connected to?” He shudders. “My Master called himself a Jedi, and I do too. But I can’t imagine being like the Jedi of old. Lothal is my home, my family are...well, my family. I’m better for having both in my life.”

A smile crosses Ben’s face despite himself. A warmth settles in his lap and he looks down to see his...cat settling in, the cat turns her head and begins to purr. Ben-Kylo beings to pet it. “You and my uncle would get along I think.” Saying that out loud makes him frown again, however. A question he didn’t expect rising from his mind. “My uncle said when he was building his academy he sent a call through the Force, hoping to find other Force users. You’re both so powerful you must have heard it. Why didn’t you respond?” What would Ben’s life have been like if he’d had the likes of Ahsoka and Ezra as possible teachers, and not just his uncle? Where there other Force users who he would have been drawn to?

Letting out a laugh Ahsoka shakes her head. “I think it was benign, but I knew it was a trap. Luke Skywalker? I knew Anakin, he might not have liked the rules of the Order, but he followed them. Having children?” She shakes her head again. “Not him.”

There is...a disconnect in Ben and Kylo’s head, it’s a delightful sort of relief that it doesn’t stem from his own identity problems. But because the woman he’d been learning from the past few months knew his grandfather?

Not enough though, if she didn’t know.

And here he’d thought Kylo’s obsession with his grandfather would prove useless after he’d left Snoke.

“He…” He makes a sound that isn’t a laugh. “He married Padme at the beginning of the Clone Wars. My mother and uncle weren’t...conceived until much later, but she’s part of why he turned to the Sith. When they were born, Obi-Wan separated them. My mother went to Alderaan, my uncle to Tatooine. Luke Skywalker is Anakin’s son, he’s the reason Anakin turned to the Light at the battle of Endor.”

Ahsoka stills. But Ezra tilts his head, curious. “Who’s your mom?”

“Leia Organa,” he answers plainly. “I was born Ben Organa-Solo.” He takes another swig from the bottle, because pfassk, does he need it.

Seconds pass, and Ben-Kylo can feel the tension in the air, and in the Force. Finally Ahsoka stands, walking off towards the empty plains. When she vanishes from sight, a sound more fitting of a mynock comes from her direction. Ahsoka reappears a few heartbeats later, all but stomping back towards them. “I kriffing swear, I’m going to find my old Master and strangle him. Ugh! I know I was young, but how could I have missed it? How did Kenobi? Stars.” She throws herself into the spot she’d vacated.

It was Kylo’s turn to be disbelieving. “You were my grandfather’s Padawan?” He’d read mentions of one while he was digging up his grandfather’s past, but they hadn’t been named. Another drink, then he hands the bottle over to Ahsoka, because she clearly needs it as much as he does.

“I met your mom once,” Ezra butts in.  “She was...certainly something.” He gives a small shake of his head, smiling all the while. “I almost felt a little bad for the Imps.”

Ahsoka tosses back the rest of the bottle. “Karabast,” that’s certainly a curse Kylo’s never heard before. “The whole blasted galaxy and we meet? And yes, I was, for most of the Clone Wars. Some of the clones joked I was Kenobi’s padawan too, since he and Anakin were rarely apart.” Fondness and grief tangles inside her.

“See.” Ezra nudges her. “The Force moves in mysterious ways.”

“Oh, switch off, Wren.”

-

“Show me that Force hold again.” Ezra rolls his shoulders as he puts away his saber.

Kylo sighs, putting away Ahsoka’s. On the sidelines Porkchop—no one’d said he had to give his loth-cat a good name—bats around a loose power core. He’s half certain that if Ahsoka, Hera, or that cranky astromech try to take it, they’ll have a fight on their hands. “It’s not exactly a Light power.”

“And sometimes I’m not exactly a good person,” Ezra replies easily. “Doesn’t make it not useful. Especially since you managed to hold it so long.”

“Alright.” He can feel the tips of his ears burning. It’d been one of the first abilities Ren had taught him, and it was one of the few things young Kylo had excelled at. He certainly didn’t think there was anything impressive about it. There were other Knights who’d been better at it.

Rolling his shoulders he reaches out in the Force. It’d been easier to do when he was with the First Order, when anger had been a constant companion and the discord inside him had only spun it higher. “Shoot me,” he tells Ezra.

The other man doesn’t even question it. Pulling out the blaster on his hip in a flash and firing.

Kylo catches it. Even so he can feel the thrum of all that energy course through him, definitely easier before. People were easier, turning how their body worked against them. Blaster bolts were nearly all energy. He manages it though, the red bolt vibrating and desperate to move in it’s own way.

“How many could you do at once?” Ezra approaches the bolt, inspecting it physically and with the Force.

Kylo shrugs. “I don’t know, never had to find out. I’ve stopped laser cannons though.” At the time it’d been a dark delight to feel Poe’s frustration.

“Can it be broken? When you’re holding a person, that is?”

Turning his head Kylo makes sure the bolt isn’t aimed at anything too valuable. Then lets it go, the bolt flying over his shoulder to hit a tree branch. “Not that I know of.”

Ezra grins. “Let’s find out.”

-

Kylo’s body feels sore. With a groan he collapses onto the bed in the guest room. Porkchop joins him a few seconds later, crawling onto his back and settling in. “Loaf,” he mutters.

Porkchop just purrs.

A chime catches Kylo’s attention, distracting him from everything he an Ezra had worked out, and his heart picks up as he realizes it’s the binary. The Force his it in his head in a second, and he eagerly clicks it on. “Rey?” Maybe she and Finn have built their lightsabers by now—the Force bond, if it is that, certainly hasn’t been...active since that not-dream.

“Sorry, taffy,” Rose’s voice crackles through the comm. “Just me. Rey and Finn are still on their Jedi expedition thingy, and Poe’s on that supplies run. Rey gave me the binary to keep safe. Hope you don’t mind?”

Oh. He exhales as his heart begins to calm. “No, I don’t mind.” A part of him isn’t happy about it—why hadn’t Rey kept it on her?—but he’s no in control of her choices. That she’d given it to Rose just shows how close they are. “Just surprised.”

“I have that effect on people,” Rose replies, sounding lofty. “It’s my greatest asset.” He finds himself smiling. “Hey, so...I guess there isn’t ever a right time or place, but I’m pretty sure you should know. I’m with Finn, and I know you already know that, and he’s great and amazing; and I’m pretty sure I’m a little in love with him. But...I’ve also kind of kissed Rey a few times,” she says all in a rush.

A strangled sound leaves him in place of an actual response.

“She’s just...so…”

“I know,” he replies with a mangled groan. Rey is bright and curious and eager to learn what others might teach her. Porkchop settles deeper onto Ben-Kylo-Ben’s back. “It’s...okay.” He doesn’t even feel a flicker of jealousy. He really is just surprised.

Rose’s laugh is relieved, and yet tense. “Good. Um, I swear the next conversation we have I won’t spill my emotional mess onto you.”

Ben laughs. “It really is okay, Rose. I don’t mind. I’m glad you’re all happy.” Now there’s a flicker of jealousy, because he’s not there to experience it. To see it and float within it.

“We are,” she agrees. “But I know we’d all probably be happier if you were back.”

The jealousy doesn’t disappear, but it is overwhelmed by the warmth her words bring. Reaching behind him, he finds himself toying with the braid Poe had given him. Porkchop makes an interested sound and bats at it.

“Thank you,” he croaks.

“Pretty sure you shouldn’t be thanking me for the truth,” Rose answers. “I’ll try to remember to have someone else comm you when they get back. Until then, you look after yourself. Alright, taffy?”

“I will.”

-

He and Ahsoka left Lothal a few cycles ago now. They’re clearly travelling somewhere, but he hasn’t had it in him to ask where. Unsure if he wants to know if it’s another ‘job’ or something else.

At least he’s started to get used to the shudder of the Liberator as it drops from hyperspace.

The planet they’ve reached doesn’t look like much from this high up. The readout isn’t much help either, seeming to be confused about where they are. He frowns at it, not liking that one bit. “Where are we?” He finally asks.

“Atollan,” Ahsoka responds as she begins to bring them into atmo.

The closer they get to the surface, the more he sees strange and elaborate formations—they look like they’re rock, but he doesn’t know any wind that could shape the rocks to look like that. “Does anyone live here?” He doesn’t see any signs of habitation, though as they’re flying he does see wreckage, old Imperial wreckage too. He’s fairly certain if Rey were here she’d be excited over the prospect.

“No people,” she answers as they begin to land. “But one of those Force beings we talked about the other week does. Bendu wanted to finally meet you, and he’s pretty much the least worst.” What a ringing endorsement.

Granted if he’s right about Snoke, well, then meeting the ‘least worst’ might not be so awful. “If you’re not a big fan, why are we here?”

She makes a tired sound. “Bendu’s persistent when he wants to be, and honestly I understand him better than I understood Daughter or Father, let alone Son. Which isn’t to say he thinks like most sentients, but he doesn’t feel as unknowable.” He follows her as she heads out. “Just, be careful. Alright, Stranger?”

“Alright.” Although he doesn’t know how well he can keep that promise. Diplomacy, or fast talking, were never really his strong suits—following in his mother’s footsteps had never really been an option.

The air is dry, but breathable. And as they walk he can feel something following them. “Is that Bendu?”

Ahsoka shakes her head as she leads them into a ravine. “The Rebels who were stationed here called them spiders. Considering this is a lost planet I doubt any scientist has ever come out to study them and give them a better name. Just don’t be afraid and they won’t attack.”

Well that’s a relief. Granted, he’s not afraid, wary definitely, but ultimately curious.

The ravine opens up, more of those strange looking rocks filling the space. He does feel a spark of fear when what he’d thought was a rock formation moves. Seeming to reconfigure itself into... something. The fear fades though as his mind tries to figure out what the creature is. Nevermind the feel of it through the Force, consuming and exuding in equal parts, and almost blinding to look at. It’s not like being in Snoke’s presence at all, and yet it also is.

“Hello, Ahsoka Tano, former Jedi Knight. Ah, and you’ve brought your young Skywalker, too. Good.” The voice is booming and resonant, fitting for the whole. A face that looks more animal than sentient moves closer to him, milky eyes seeming to take in every sliver of him.

“I’m not a Skywalker,” Kylo-Ben-Kylo-himself answers testily.

“Hello, Bendu. What is it you wanted?”

A part of him dislikes that Ahsoka is so relaxed. He’s not afraid, but he is more tense. Half-expecting this to be some sort of trick, and that Snoke would appear and sink his metaphorical claws into him again.

“No, Snoke will not come here, young Skywalker, though I see now that you are perhaps not one yet. And he needs a saber and Test of his own, does he not, Ahsoka Tano, former Jedi Knight?” Bendu...smiles. “You have already faced a trial of Darkness on Dagobah, so shall your test your mettle against the Light, young Skywalker?”

Part of him wants to protest that this is too much too fast, on top of the fact that Bendu keeps calling him Skywalker. That Bendu knows about his ‘test’ on Dagobah is also worrying. Yet, he also knows that he does need a saber of his own, and yes, a test of how he’s changed as a person. Though he didn’t know there were Light places like that.

“Pockets of Light and Dark exist everywhere, one just needs to know where to find them. For I, Bendu, who sits in the middle, both are easy to find, or perhaps create.” Bendu steps aside, revealing the opening to a cave, or tunnel of some sort. “Can you hear it, singing to you? Will you seek it out and find out how the Light judges you?”

That...he takes a breath, two. He looks at Ahsoka, who shrugs. “I can’t make this choice for you, Stranger.”

Turning back to the cave entrance he opens himself up further to the Force, seeing if he does hear the singing of a crystal.

It is there. Though it’s so very quiet, a whisper of a song more than anything. Yet it’s a song he somehow knows all too well. Without thought he begins to follow it, wanting to find the source, and feel it settle into him.

Despite this place supposedly being one of Light, it’s dark when he goes into the cave. He can hear those spider things chittering and moving around, but the song is more important. Though that importance falls to the wayside when he finds his path blocked by a human man. A bald one, with dark skin and Jedi robes, who is a little transparent and clearly not breathing. A Force ghost.

The man looks him over, assessingly. “So you seek Vaapad, then?”

Does he? It’s clearly tied more to the Dark than the other Forms he’d learned, but he doesn’t know if that is a good thing for him, or a bad. He can only trust himself, as tenuous a ‘himself’ there is, and hope that if he begins to tread to deeply into the Dark, that those that love him will do their best to pull him back out. “Yes.”

“Then this is your first lesson: emotions will not make you Fall, letting them rule you will.” Then the ghost is gone.

Weak, but bitter, laughter leaves Ben-Kylo-Ben. Where was that lesson fifteen years ago, when he perhaps needed it most? Yet he finds he’s not truly angry, the emotion a whisper only a little louder than the song luring him deeper.

He continues on, but between one step and the next he’s no longer in the tunnel, but in a small hut. One he knows all too well.

He’s inside it, and then he is his younger self, asleep but restless with troubling dreams, until…

Ben’s eyes shoot open, the last vestiges of sleep disappearing in a flash as he sees his uncle above him, lightsaber ignited.

There is no thinking, only action. Yet the older part of him can see the moment fear turns into shame in his uncle, while Ben only clashes his saber with Luke’s. Desperately reaching out with the Force, enough to collapse the whole hut on top of both of them.

Ben escapes, the hilt of his lightsaber held listlessly in his hand as he steps towards the Academy. Ben-Kylo-Ben tries to pull himself away, to escape what he knows is coming, but whatever put him in this vision isn’t letting him out, not yet. As much as he wants to escape he also knows why the Light trapped him here, wanting him to face his greatest crime.

Yet, yet, yet Ben only stops. Heart racing in his chest and mind still full of panic and fear. His uncle tried to kill him, and was now...unconscious, damn. Ben took another step towards the Academy, the other students, he had to warn them, get them away from the Darkness that had clearly consumed his uncle.

Another step.

Electricity crackles in his teeth, throwing him back. Pushing himself upright he gapes as he sees that the Academy is on fire. What, what happened? Kylo wants to know that too, this, this isn’t what he remembers at all. There had been a fire, yes, but screams too, the crackling pain in his heart and his kyber crystal as the other students had died. Died because of him. 

“Ben?” His heart crawls into his throat at Hennix’s voice.

He can sense the panic and fear from the others too. “What happened?” He can feel Voe take a step closer to him and the still raging fire. “What did you do?”

Anger roars in him, what made them think he had anything to do with this? Why were they blaming him when his uncle had just tried to murder him?

Once more there is no thought. Ben ignites his saber and whirls on his three fellow Padawans. Tai’s the first to react, but that doesn’t mean much with the anger and Darkness inside Ben.

Yet when the battle ends they’re still not dead, only defeated. Ben runs, and Kylo feels as if he’s holding onto himself by fingertips. Had his memory lied? Was this the truth? Or something else? Ben reaches the Grimtaash, and his body goes on autopilot, warming up the engine while his mind is a maelstrom of grief, anger, and confusion.

He’s halfway through the atmo before he realizes the others are following him. Kriff, they were clearly as bad as uncle Luke was.

Yet even still Kylo is lost in the disconnect that Ben doesn’t kill them, only shoots out their ship, leaving them trapped, but definitely alive.

Ben doesn’t know where he’s going, but he knows he has to get away. Desperation and fear join in the chaos of his mind. Snoke? There was still someone who cared about him, right? Who wouldn’t abandon him.

I am here, Ben.

A desperate sound leaves Ben at the soothing voice, at the relief it fills him with. All of what happened leaves him in a rush. I never...I didn’t want this. Desperation fills him, wanting, needing Snoke to understand. He didn’t want his uncle dead, didn’t want the students dead either, he’d only wanted…

I know, Ben. Snoke’s voice overwhelms Ben’s thoughts. And you did not choose it, Ben. The Jedi did. Skywalker, your uncle. The words are clearly meant to soothe, to comfort, and Ben reacts them them accordingly. But Kylo can feel the darkness seeped into them, how it moves into Ben. He feared your power, feared it so much he tried to kill you, Snoke fills this with the horror most would; Kylo can taste the falseness of it.

Ben knows, yet his heart still aches. But the other students, there was a fire…

Yes, Snoke interrupts sounding almost cruel, you told me that already. Your uncle will think you did it, that you’re the one who killed them. He is beyond reason, after all. There’s no point trying to go back to tell him otherwise, he wouldn’t believe you anyways, as afraid as he is. Snoke murmurs.

As desperate as he is for someone to understand him, Ben is helpless before the unknown onslaught, of Snoke’s manipulation.

Is that why Kylo’s memory was what it was? Snoke had already manipulated so much of Ben’s life, what were a few false memories? All the better to drive the conflict within Kylo Ren. Achingly the-Kylo-Ben-of-now wonders if his uncle would believe him if he told him.

Come to me, Ben, Snoke cajoles. It is time for us to meet.

Yes, Snoke. Ben sniffles, trying to compose himself as the connection fades. Yet a Ben stares out into the vast darkness between the stars that was open space, the loss swamps him. Unwanted tears falling.

Kylo-Ben finds himself seperating from his younger self, yet he moves closer instead of retreating. Wrapping unfelt arms around this poor, broken, boy he’d once been. “It will be the worst years of your life,” he murmurs, beginning to cry himself. “He will do so much to you, but you will make it out. Not that you will recognize yourself. You’ll come out the other side scarred, and so very damaged, barely unable to even trust yourself. But you endured, you survived, Ben Solo.” He squeezes tight. “It’s not a comfort now, or even in the aftermath, but it is something to be proud of.” He kisses the top of Ben’s head, everything dissolving into Light and sinking into him.

The song of the crystal is still a quiet whisper, but Ben-Kylo can somehow hear it better, like a comm tuned to the right frequency. The cave system doesn’t seem half as dark as it had been before, and a sort of mournful joy fills up the cracks inside him as he continues deeper.

He can tell he’s getting closer, but again he finds someone standing in the way. Not the ghost from before—Windu? He’d have to ask Ahsoka—but himself.

Kylo Ren in all his dark glory.

There is barely a breath before Kylo attacks, the baleful light of their saber casting the tunnel in sharp relief.

Ben dodges easily, with no saber of his own it’s all he can do. That and hopefully get close enough to land a physical hit. Despite the situation he finds himself biting back a laugh as he realizes he’s fallen back onto Soresu; Ahsoka would be proud, he’s sure.

“I don’t know what you find so funny,” it had been strange to hear his younger self, stranger still to hear this. It still hadn’t been a standard year yet since he’d fled the First Order, and yet he’d grown so used to his own voice again. “When you’re a coward who won’t even attack.”

Ben stills, not because the words anger him, but because they spark something inside him. The saber moves to rest against his throat, the heat of it scorching, the thrum rattling his bones.

“Ready to finally fight? Or are you giving up?”

Ben’d worn the mask so often he knew where the true eyeline of it was, meaning he can meet the eyes of his other self. “Neither,” he answers, calm washing over him. “Fighting myself is what got me into this whole kriffing mess in the first place. When Snoke took me in I tried to fight the Light in me, and I nearly killed my father because of it. As a child I fought the Darkness,” he lets out a bark of laughter. “I guess I’ve been fighting the Darkness these past few months too, haven’t I? Thought it was for a good reason.” He shakes his head. “Not anymore.”

Taking a deep breath Ben holds out his hand, the gold and sapphire of his mother’s ring glittering. “I need you,” he tells Kylo Ren. “I am the Light, and you are the Dark, we can’t be whole without the other. Without the whole there can’t be the Balance, the peace, we’ve always sought.” Even if they won’t have a name, they will at least know who they are. 

The heat and thrum of the lightsaber disappears, the red light vanishing into blackness. Yet Ben can still see well enough to catch the sheen of leather as it reaches for his own hand. Leather touches flesh and…

He breathes.

The cave reforms around him again, and he flexes his fingers, the leather gloves he’s now wearing feeling right after having gone without for so long—that they fit even over the ring is mildly impressive.

Darkness and Light settle into him, neither twilight or dawn. The rightness of it strange after having been so jagged and rough for so long.

Confidently he strides towards the whisper of a song, it coming even more clearly to him now.

The cave he enters isn’t a large one, his head scrapes the ceiling, and if he reached out both his arms he would touch the sides. But there in the darkness, lit by a beam of light, is the kyber crystal that had called to him.

Picking it up he’s surprised at how the light shines through the crystal, he didn’t know they could be clear, though that might not be the case once he attunes it to himself.

Settling into a meditative pose he closes his eyes and focuses. Last time there had been Snoke’s voice in his head, driving his agitation and frustration. Making the hairline crack Kylo had later widened to make his crystal so unstable.

Now there is only himself. “The crystal is the heart of the blade,” he says aloud. The cave and tunnels echo with his voice, turning it into not one, but a hundred Bens and Kylos. “The heart is the crystal of myself.” That bit would need a bit of work. Inside him Dark and Light flow, from him to the crystal and back. “I am the crystal of the Force. The Force is the blade of the heart.

“All are intertwined.” The soft song of the crystal fills him as he fills it with himself. His voice picking up the tune. “The crystal, the blade, myself, the Force. We are one.”

A pulse in the Force, and they are one. He doesn’t know if it’s an ocean, a web, the tension between all things, or lights and shadows, but it is in him and he is with it.

But only for a moment.

Ben-who-is-Kylo-who-is-Ben exhales, and he is only himself. He wraps a hand around the crystal before looking at it, he wants to see it outside.

Making his way out of the cave system is easier than getting it had been, and when he steps into the morning air it tastes fresher somehow.

He sees Bendu out of the corner of his eye, but his focus is on his hand. The leather creaks faintly as he uncurls his fingers, revealing a still-transparent crystal. It looks black against his palm, but as he moves it between his fingers and holds it up to the rising sun he sees that it’s purple.

“Well done.” Bendu comes to a stop in front of him. “I do believe that Ahsoka Tano, former Jedi Knight, left you a box of parts for the saber.” An antler? tilts in the direction.

Ben-Kylo nods. Excited to start. “Was what I saw in there real?” He needs to know.

Bendu moves with him. “As real as you or I, or this planet we stand on,” the creature replies. “Though there are some who would argue nothing is real. Bah.” Bendu settles. “Everything is real in it’s own way. But we have not met to speak philosophy. We have met to speak of you and your destiny.”

Kylo-Ben snorts as he begins to sort through the parts, picking out what feels right. “I have no destiny,” before that realization would have filled him with bitterness. Now it is only a fact. A fact that freed him.

“Perhaps not,” Bendu agrees. “Your grandfather fulfilled his destiny by destroying the Jedi Order, your uncle fulfilled his by not giving into power, thus ending the Sith. Why should it not be your destiny, Skywalker Ren, to show that there is not just Dark and Light, but the twilight and dawn in between? There have been many who follow the supposed path of Ashran or Bogan, but rarely the Bendu.”

“Hmm?” He is paying attention to Bendu’s words, but they’re distant to the saber. With the Force he lifts the pieces he’s chosen and begins to piece them together. An echo ripples through him, so that it’s not just his hands, but Rey’s too, moving in concert as they build their sabers.

“Ha. But now there are no Sith, no Jedi Order. Perhaps now the Tree of the Force will flourish as it has always meant to. Hundreds of roots sinking deep into the dark, hundreds of branches reaching up to the light. And the trunk in between, supporting and benefiting from both. As it was meant to be.”

That sounds right, Ben is sure his parents and uncle would like him to be wholly Light, but he can’t be. The Darkness had sunk too deep into him to ever truly be gone. He’s not even sure he’d want it to be if he had the choice. “You keep calling me Skywalker, why?” Perhaps that was the question he should have asked the first time. Despite asking he focuses harder on his saber, not wanting to invert the emitter matrix. Rey’s having a different time of it doing it all by hand—why is beyond him.

“So self-centered, to think it only your bloodline,” Bendu booms, though there’s no true anger in his voice. “There were Skywalkers long before your great grandmother’s master decided his slaves would be happier with last names, and there will be Skywalkers long after your bloodline has died out. But perhaps for you, it only means one who walks in the darkness between stars, knowing that even if you cannot see them, there are stars around you. You have already even met another Skywalker such as yourself, though neither of you knew it.”

The last part of his saber clicks into place, on another world he can feel Rey’s echoing joy at the job done. He rises, finding himself pulling away from Rey as he ignites his saber for the first time—he wants her to see it in person, just like he wants his first time seeing hers to be in person too.

It’s whisper quiet, the purple blade almost as transparent as the crystal itself had been.

Without thought he settles into the first stance of Shii-Cho. The Force singing inside him as he works through the Forms.

-

When he finishes the last stance of Niman, he finds Ahsoka watching. The Force shows she’s curious, but also desperately worried about something.

He flicks off the saber and hooks it to his belt, the weight familiar and comforting. “What’s wrong?” It doesn’t surprise him that Bendu is nowhere to be found.

“I got a comm, there’s a Resistance mission that’s gone horribly wrong, and they need my, our help.” He thinks there might be more to it than that, but he realizes that’s all he needs to know. For now at least.

As they head back to the Liberator, a wave of tiredness swamps him. Ahsoka manages to catch him before he falls over. “Good thing it’ll take a bit to get there, you definitely need to be at your best for this.”

Yes, this will be his first real encounter with the First Order since leaving, but at least he’s sure of himself. He doesn’t protest when she supports him the rest of the way to the ship, dropping him off in his bunk before heading to the cockpit. He manages enough strength to half-undress before falling into his bed. Porkchop joins him only a heartbeat later, her head pressing itself into the space beneath his own as she settles against him and begins to purr.

-

He doesn’t know how much later it is when he wakes, but he can still feel the thrum of hyperspace around them. Climbing out of the bunk without waking Porkchop is a trial in and of itself, but he manages. Dressing—and wishing he’d kept some of his old armor—before scooping Porkchop up and heading to the cockpit.

“We’ll be dropping out of Hyperspace soon,” Ahsoka greets. “Do you know Abrax VI?”

Kylo nods. One of the planets at the heart of the territory the First Order had claimed for their own. He settles into the co-pilot seat and absently scratches Porkchop’s back. “What were the Resistance doing there?”

“It was supposed to be a simple theft,” she answers. “Supply ships all nice and loaded up and ripe for the picking thanks to a mole. Which pretty much fell apart faster than it should have. We’re meeting up with the Resistance members who escaped, and help them rescue their teammates. The ships are optional at this point. Hopefully all before the Knights of Ren show up.”

Kylo nearly lets out a bark of laughter, of course he won’t only be facing off against the First Order, but his former Knights as well. “Why are they going there?” There had to be a reason, Snoke wouldn’t just send them to help the First Order mop up a failed attack. Snoke didn’t like to waste resources like that.

“The First Order caught the mole who set the whole thing up.” Ahsoka’s grip on the piloting console tightens. “He’s a Force user.”

Ah. “I was Kylo Ren,” Ben blurts out. Ahsoka deserved to know sooner, but she definitely deserves to know now. He waits, patiently, for her anger. Porkchop complains when he stops scratching her.

“I knew,” she replies.

Which takes out all the wind from him. “What?”

She turns and gives him a look worthy of his mother. “I saw the posters when we were on Naboo. I didn’t say anything because you’re not the first Force user to regret sinking so deep into the Darkness. And you’re clearly trying to do better, though you’re still far darker than I’m perhaps comfortable with.” There is a faint whisper of her fear, but he understands it.

He shrugs, not knowing how to respond to that. He’s not ashamed of what he is. “Oh.” As much as Porkchop complains his hands move to pull his hair back—he really should try and get it cut soon—so it won’t be in the way. Even through the leather of his gloves he can feel the braid Poe had given him, the love and intention of it soothing him.

“You were able to claim a kyber crystal without bleeding it, which I’m going to have to satisfy myself with,” Ahsoka continues.

Shuddering they drop out of hyperspace. Abrax VI wasn’t anything special to look at, although it was clear it was turning more and more into a factory planet; he finds himself tempted to even call it a dirtball at this point.

Somehow Ahsoka manages to avoid the TIE patrols, or being hailed by flight control. The former reminds him of who would have taught her to fly. Perhaps when they have time he can tease out of her more about his grandfather, what he was really like. He shakes that off though, now is not the time or place.

They don’t land in a docking bay, in fact they don’t even dock at all. Instead Ahsoka sets the ship to hover of a patch of slum, off in the distance Ren can see smoke from where the failed snatch and grab must have happened.

Jumping from the Liberator onto the nearest rooftop is easy, and he follows Ahsoka as she leads him towards where the Resistance hopefully is.

She knocks on a door, and whomever’s on the other side must recognize the knock, because it opens a few seconds later. A woman stands on the other side, her armor suggests Mandalorian, though it’s the most colorful besker he’s ever seen. “Ahsoka,” she sounds tired. Her dark eyes flick to him, but seem to accept that if he’s with Ahsoka he must be good.

“Sabine.” Ahsoka gives the woman a brief hug before continuing in. “This is Stranger, not much of a name, but that doesn’t make him useful.”

All Ren can do is huff at the teasing.

“Right now I’ll take just about anything,” Sabine responds. “Though I guess I can’t claim to have done more with less.” She leads them deeper into the house, towards a susurrus of voices.

Voices that fall quiet when they enter. Only to be broken by a familiar sounding chirrup, and without thought Ren finds himself bracing, a white and orange BB-8 unit running into him and still almost bowling him over. If she’s here…

Except BB starts chattering and his heart stills as he realizes that while Poe might have been part of the mission—he should have figured it out sooner, both Rey and Rose had mentioned it when they commed him—he’d clearly been one of the people captured. Pfassk.

“Alright,” Sabine’s voice breaks through his spiral. Which is good, he needs to focus on whatever plan they might have, and not on what the Order might be doing to Poe or any of the other Resistance they’d captured. “I know most of you probably don’t know Ahsoka Tano, or her friend…”

“We know him,” a man answers. Ren finds him easily, and now that he’s paying attention it’s easy to spot those that he’d tangentially known while with the Resistance. “General Organa’s son,” he almost makes it sound like a curse. “Caused a whole uproar when he upped and vanished,” the man says with only a little bitterness.

“Right now I don’t care if he stole your best girl at the cantina a decade ago,” Sabine tells the man. “I need all the help I can get, and one more Force user is not something I’m gonna turn my nose up at.”

“I’m sure my experience with the First Order will help too,” Ren finds himself adding dryly.

It earns him an arched eyebrow from Sabine, but she doesn’t ask him about it. “Here’s what we’re going to try to do…”

-

The plan is blessedly simple, which only means there are potentially fewer ways for it to fail spectacularly.

Ren should just be impressed they managed to find a First Order officer’s uniform in his size on such short notice.

“I hate not wearing my armor,” the woman walking alongside him, not Sabine, but her and Ezra’s daughter Kana, says. Despite not wearing her armor—which had been only slightly less colorful than her mother’s—she’d managed to hide away a surprising number of weapons on her in true Mandalorian fashion. Including a lightsaber—his own, and Ahsoka’s, sabers were also tucked away, and he finds himself eager to use his in a fight.

Behind the two of them, four Resistance members march in ‘trooper armor, and between them Sabine and Ahsoka walk in cuffs. The rest of the team would be waiting at the designated extraction spot, ready to provide cover. Easy, enough. He just has to hope there’s no officer gunning for a promotion and not quite caring how they got it.

Getting into the Detention Center is easy enough, they don’t exactly expect people breaking in. The least best part is handing Ahsoka and Sabine over for processing. The rest of them are left to their own devices—well, they were instructed to go back out and search for more Resistance, but after that no one pays them much mind.

One of the psudo-troopers sheds their armor when they find an out of the way dataport. Their face scrunches in concentration as they begin splicing. “They’re being kept isolated in block J,” they say absently. “Security’s tighter there, but I could probably trigger an alarm somewhere else to draw them away.”

“What about Jacen?” Kana’s voice is tense. Since he doesn’t recognize the name, Ren assumes Jacen is the mole.

“Interrogation,” is the answer they get after a few seconds. “We’ve also got incoming on those Knights.”

Kana lets out a string of Mando’a. “Trigger that false alarm,” she finally says. “You all join the rush and get the prisoner’s out.” She turns to him. “I’m gonna trust auntie ‘Soka knows what she’s talking about with you, and let you come with me. No way in Malachor I’m gonna face off against those kriffing Knights on my own.”

He nods, having expected about as much. Absently he wonders which ones Snoke would have sent. Ever since they’d truly ‘joined’ the First Order recruiting had fallen to the wayside. Granted Snoke had happily kept them apart, excepting when necessary. Vicul most likely, maybe Kuruk to pilot for the older man.

With purpose they begin walking towards the Interrogation center, Ren is starting to realize that acting like you belong there makes people not want to question it. Which felt like a flaw of the highest order, yet he felt no shame in taking advantage of it. Pfassk, the guards at the entrance to the Interrogation center don’t even question them going inside. Even more egregious with the alarm going off in the Detention Center.

The Force all but yells at him which cell Jacen is in. When they get there it’s easy enough to knock out the Interrogator, and disable the droid.

Jacen doesn’t look good, pale, green hair plastered to his skin, breathing ragged, and when Kana checks his eyes they’re dilated. “Jacen?” She smacks his cheeks lightly.

All she gets is a groan in response. “Pfassking kriff.” He feels that. If he were actually any good at Force healing he’d offer to help, but they probably don’t have the time either way.

“You carry him, I’ll watch our backs,” Ren instead offers. Deep inside him he feels the ripples of familiar Force signatures. He doesn’t mention it to Kana, it would only worry her more. “We’re not far from the extraction point.” Whatever that Resistance member had done apparently made it hard to turn the alarm off, it still blaring in the distance and hopefully making it less likely they’ll be noticed.

Reaching out with the Force he knocks out the guards at the entrance, grimly staring ahead and reaching for his lightsaber. Readying himself for what’s likely to come, he just hopes Kana doesn’t try to argue.

“I’m going to treasure this day, you Jedi spawn traitor.” Ushar’s vocalizer turns his deep voice into an almost sub-vocal bass.

Ushar is not who Ren was expecting, but it could have been worse. “Go,” he tells Kana. “I can hold him off. I’ll meet you at the extraction point.”

Without waiting for a response he turns, Ushar’s blocky frame doing its best to loom over him. Honestly, Ren’s more worried about the massive greatsword the other Knight is brandishing. “Ushar,” it seems only polite that he returns the greeting. “Disappointed you won’t get to tear up someone helpless?”

“Traitor,” Ushar spits again.

“If you’re just going to keep calling me that we might as well just get to the fight,” Ren’s pleased with how bored he sounds. With a breath he ignites his saber and settles into a ready position. The quiet of the saber settling into him. “Snoke should’ve sent Vicul, I at least always had to work to beat him.” 

Ushar howls, raising up his sword and charging.

Ren blocks with ease, gritting his teeth as Ushar’s weight and force tries to overwhelm him. He shifts his footing, saber moving to better deflect. Bafflingly Ushar doesn’t follow, his weight still pressing at what had been their join point; meaning that he stumbles forward when Ren’s own weight isn’t there.

Shifting again Ren goes for an attack, Ushar’s sword might be saber resistant, but not all of his armor is. 

Ushar manages to spin out of the way, using the action to make his next strike even more powerful.

With the Force’s help, Ren leaps out of the way, striking at Ushar from above, gouging out a chunk of the man’s helmet.

Another howl from Ushar, accompanied by a blast of Darkness meant to terrify and confuse.

“Ha!” Ren’s saber rises up to block it, the Darkness spreading around him and barely making a ripple inside him. He doesn’t give Ushar a chance to strike again, the Force singing through his body, pushing him faster. Again, Ushar doesn’t react like Ren expects, his sword moving as if to block Ren, not his saber.

Meaning his saber slips in between two plates, piercing the man’s arm. Ushar cries out, and something in Ren exults in it. But he can’t let himself linger on the small victory when he hasn’t even won yet.

Yanking his saber out he spins himself, and a heartbeat later Ushar’s head tumbles from his shoulder, the helmet making it roll until it hit a crate nearby. Disengaging his lightsaber, Ren finds he’s barely even breathing hard. Ushar had been easy to beat before, for him, but it’d never been that easy.

“When I first Saw this, I certainly wasn’t expecting the chain of events to go the way it did.”

Ren whirls, saber springing to life in his hands again. Ready to face off against whatever Pelot might throw at him.

She stands at ease, however, her axes nowhere to be seen. Ren knows that doesn’t mean much, her telekinesis was second to none, it would be easy for her to put him in a hold before summoning an axe to deal with him. Granted, she didn’t know he and Ezra had worked out a way to break a Force hold.

Yet as the seconds pass she continues to not attack him, making him feel a little foolish. Her skull like mask only watching him impassively as the actual meaning of her words beginning to register in his mind. “You saw this?” He knew the Force could grant visions, but seeing the future was something else entirely.

“I did,” her vocalizer makes her sound ragged and harsh, off-putting the longer you had to listen to her speak.

“You didn’t tell me?” Or Snoke it seemed. Her not telling him hurt a little more, she’d been the only Knight to join after he’d become their leader. It could be argued that out of all the Knights, she’d been the only one to choose to follow him.

“No,” not even her vocalizer can’t hide the clipped way she’s now speaking. “If I had told you, or Snoke, I would have been a Knight in name only. Snoke would keep me safe and coddled,” she spits. “I did not prove myself to be a woman after no one believed me, then escape my homeworld when I realized what my fate there would be, only to suffer a different variation of that same fate here.”

Surprising him completely she gracefully moves into a kneel. “But I am not here to share my history, Lord Ren.” The old title is jarring. Especially since he didn’t think any of the Knights would dare call him that after he had left. “I am here to hope you will forgive me my shame.”

He kills the lightsaber in his hands. “Shame?” Despite the conversation being wildly out of his control, there’s not the desperation he expects to gain control. Perhaps because he’s far too confused.

“We did not join you, when you left the Order,” she answers. “We are sworn to you, Lord Ren, not Snoke, not the First Order. Yet we stayed. I cannot speak for the others, but I was afraid. Afraid that if I tried to leave Snoke would have found out about my Second Sight.” Her mask gives nothing of her expression away, but he can guess it’s an angry one. “To let my fear rule me is my shame, it should not have mattered what would have happened. I should have followed after you, Lord Ren, a worthy leader such as yourself deserves nothing less.”

“I’m not your lord anymore.” It feels like faint protest however.

Pelot’s snort suggests she feels that way too. “You are,” she argues. “Ushar was willfully being ignorant when he called you Jedi scum. You may have left Snoke, but you are so clearly of the Shadow still.” She rises. “I will go back and tell the others of what I have seen, perhaps it will convince them we were all wrong.”

“They’ll kill you,” it escapes him without him meaning to. He finds himself loathed to throw away someone who he could call an ally however, who didn’t see the Darkness in him as an evil.

She snorts again. “They’ll try,” she replies. Her spin is fittingly dramatic as she begins to leave.

“Wait,” he calls out. Relieved that she stops. “If you do make it out, can you bring everyone’s helmets? Mine too, if you can find one.” He’d had a few extra, though he has no idea where they might be now. “Go to Lothal, Capitol City.” He hopes Ezra can forgive him for that.

If the strange request surprises her she doesn’t show it. “Alright. But if I do that, you have to introduce me to that cute Mandalorian girl.” Then she’s gone.

Ren would let himself be baffled by that later. Now, now he still has to escape. He does stop to take Ushar’s helmet though, sneering at the surprised expression on the old man’s face.

Not caring what attention he might draw to himself he runs right for the extraction point. Hopefully someone had decided to wait for him, and not written him off as a lost cause. He has to ignite his saber again as troopers start shooting at him. Deflecting them back is easy with the Darkness thrumming through him. That he manages to deflect them back as injuring, rather than killing, shots gratifying in a way.

“Stranger!” Ahsoka’s voice is a relief.

He yanks her sabers free and tosses them, trusting that she’d catch them. It feels good to fight beside her as they made their way towards where the Liberator is now hovering. Whomever is piloting isn’t doing a very good job of keeping it in place, but the boarding ramp had been lowered, and the Force made the jump hardly worth the effort.

“Go!” Ahsoka shouts. Her hand smacking the manual control for the ramp, and Ren just lets himself collapse into a corner. Darkness still pulsing inside of him.

A shudder means they’re going into hyperspace, and Ren finds himself aware enough to notice that he isn’t alone in the main bay. The Darkness inside him snarls when he realizes Poe isn’t among those on the ship.

He has to still be alive, he has to be. Ren-Ben-Ren-Ben couldn’t stand to be the one to tell the others, didn’t want grief to consume what happiness he’d had and turn it bitter. Losing Poe is unacceptable, just as much as losing any of the others would be.

Through whatever strange connection he and Rey shared—he should have asked Bendu about it—he can feel her question. But Ben walls her off, not wanting her to grieve before he knew what was the truth and what was his own panic.

Ben presses his thumb against his mother’s ring—love is more than a candle—hoping with his whole being that his panic and fear are nothing more than baseless claims by the Dark.

Ahsoka, and he can tell it’s Ahsoka now piloting and not whomever it was before, will be taking them to meet up with the other Resistance members. Poe could’ve been on another ship, maybe even one of the ones they were supposed to have taken in the first place. He didn’t see Sabine, or Kana and Jacen; and if anything had happened to them, he’s pretty sure he’d have picked it up off Ahsoka.

They drop out of hyperspace sooner than he expects them to. Soon he feels a shuddering of a different sort as they head into atmo.

Poe’s alive, Poe’s alive , becomes a mantra as the Liberator starts to land.

There are a few injured beings on the ship, and he has the sense to let them get off first to be rushed to the makeshift medicenter. He scans the hustle and bustle of sentients, but still doesn’t see Poe. Meaning he rushes to catch up with those heading for the medicenter.

Ren-Ben scans inside the makeshift building, his heart leaping into his throat as he sees Poe in the back, being looked over by a medi-droid. He’s sure more than a few of the medics will have strong words for his mother about his behavior, but right now he doesn’t care, as he makes his way to Poe.

Mine, the Darkness in him rumbles as he finally reaches Poe. Collapsing onto the man’s lap with a pained groan.

“Woah, hey, buddy.” Poe’s good arm wraps around him, while the medi-droid beeps in chastisement at Poe trying to move his bad arm too. “BB said you were here, didn’t quite believe her.”

Ben can only groan, something as complex as speech a little lost to him as he’s swamped with relief and the urge to have. Steal Poe away from all of this and make sure the other man never got hurt again.

Poe’s fingers bury themselves in Ben’s hair, pulling out the tie holding it back as they begin to pet him. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m good. Just a broken arm, nothing the droid here can’t fix.”

Ben knows that, but that doesn’t change what’s roaring through him. He is grateful for Poe’s soothing chatter though, it helps a little. But he can still only cling to Poe and breathe the man in. Distantly wishing the others were here to help anchor him too. Rey might be, thanks to however they’re connected, but it’s not the same as her physical presence.

They stay like that, for perhaps longer than Ben would like—the Darkness in him wanting release of a sort—until the droid speaks. “It will take another day for the arm to heal completely. Please do your best to not reinjure yourself in the meantime.” Then it’s moving on to the next patient.

“Come on,” Poe sounds as antsy as Ben feels. “Probably someone else who needs this spot more than we do.”

Ben is not going to argue. Not when it means they hurry out of the medicenter. They’re not even anywhere private before Ren is pinning Poe to the hull of a ship, mouth descending on the other man’s, desperate to consume.

He swallows up Poe’s noise of surprise, and finds himself being filled with warm satisfaction when Poe starts to return the kiss with equal fervor. One hand buries itself in Poe’s hair, the other tries to slip under Poe’s shirt, only for Poe to give a start. “What?” He sounds ragged and excited and desperate.

“Glove,” Poe pants back.

Right. He brings the hand up to his mouth, catching the leather between his teeth and tugging it off before just dropping it to the ground. Poe’s dark eyes watching every movement.

“Kriff.” Poe starts pulling Ren back down to him. “I don’t remember you being this confidently hot the last time I saw you.”

Ren finds he can’t help the smug chuckle that leaves him, Poe happily cutting it off with his own mouth. They’re both aching hard at this point and Ren finds himself slipping a knee between Poe’s own legs, needing them both to get closer to each other.

Only for a throat to clear right next to them.

Ben’s ears begin to burn as he turns to see Ahsoka, who looks more amused than anything. “I’m sure some people are enjoying the show, boys, but perhaps move it somewhere else.” She gives a pointed jerk of her head towards the Liberator only a few meters away. She pats Ben on the shoulder before walking off, which really just makes it worse.

“Come on,” Ben is the one leading Poe along this time. Thankfully the Liberator ’s empty, and Ben makes a mental note to actually pick up Ushar’s helmet later.

As much as he wants to have Poe under him, Poe’s injured so he falls onto his bed first, pulling the other man down with him.

“I think I could get used to this, you know.” Poe’s grin starts driving Ben to distraction and he pulls the other man down for more kissing. They both start shifting, trying to work out the best way to fit their bodies together, and he can feel Poe’s hand start to tug his shirt from his pants. It’s good and nice and Ben doesn’t really want it to end. A sound leaves him as he feels Poe palm his cock.

Only for them to be interrupted again. Porkchop yowling at being ignored so.

Poe doesn’t exactly recoil away from Ben, but he is clearly surprised. Pulling away enough to get a good look Porkchop, Ben has no choice but to look too, the damned loth-cat grinning up at the both of them.

“Hello, kitty.” Poe clearly doesn’t understand that Porkchop is just a distraction. Especially when Poe’s hand leaves Ben to hold out to the cat. “Nice kitty. You gotta name?”

“Porkchop,” Ben groans. “And she’s clearly a menace, with no respect for me.”

That grabs Poe’s attention. “She’s yours?”

Ben only nods. Someone he actually knew was bound to find out eventually.

“I can’t wait to tell the others you got a cat. ” Poe beams down at him before going in for another kiss, lips sliding down Ben’s throat in the most distracting manner…

Poe’s words though bring everything into sharp relief. The others. An unhappy groan leaves him as he gently pushes Poe away. “No, no more,” he grits out.

“Kriffing pfassk,” Poe groans against his shoulder. “Why not?”

Ben exhales, trying to make himself as calm as he can. “I...I want my first time with you, all of you.”

Poe pushes himself up with his good arm to stare down at him. “Oh stars,” Poe sounds both pleased and exasperated. “You kriffing romantic.”

Ben is fairly certain that someone as close to the Dark as he is shouldn’t be called a ‘romantic,’ but Poe also has a kriffing point. He shakes his head as a grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Anyways, we can’t have sex in front of the cat,” he replies loftily. Gesturing to Porkchop still watching them, waiting for her moment to pounce. “She’s innocent in this.”

“You…” Poe’s sputtering laughter is the best thing Ben-Ren’s heard this cycle. “You pfassking nerfherder.” Poe roll his eyes.

“Thank you.” Ben’s grin turns into a smirk. “I am my father’s son, after all.”

Poe makes a pained groan and before Ben knows it he’s fending off Poe trying to smother him with a pillow.

Chapter Text

Ben stands at the ready, his lightsaber in the guard position he recalls. A few meters away Jacen stands, his own dusky orange lightsaber—it had apparently been his Kana had been carrying around, and not one of her own—at the ready.

“So walk us through what happened,” Ahsoka prompts. Now that they’d arrived back on Lothal, Ben’d thought it was as good a time as any to figure out what was going on during that fight with Ushar. If it was just a fluke of Ushar’s, or something else entirely. Ben’s honestly not sure which he’d prefer.

“Ushar charged at me, greatsword over his head, ready to swing down.”

Jacen, playing the part of Ushar, snorts. “Who would attack like that?” Yet he raises his saber above his head and sort of jogs over. This was a test more than anything after all, and with both their sabers at full strength it didn’t make sense to do at speed. When he reaches Ben he swings down, the two sabers meeting. The weight and pressure familiar, even if Jacen’s whole weight wasn’t behind the strike.

“A darksider with more brawn than sense,” Ben retorts. “I shifted my weight back,” he does so. “While changing the angle of my saber so I could push him back and move into an attack.”

Perhaps it’s strange to call it a ‘relief’ when Jacen stumbles the same way Ushar had, but what else should Ben call it?

“Stars,” Jacen grumbles. “You said you moved it, but I couldn’t see it. You, auntie ‘Soka?” Ben blinks.

“Did Bendu say what kind of crystal that was, Stranger?” Perhaps he should tell Ahsoka he thinks he knows his name now, but he also finds he wants his family to know about it first.

Shaking off those thoughts he shakes his head. “No, it was mostly transparent though.” He makes a brief gesture with the saber, trying to illustrate it’s own transparency. “Do you think it’s that?” To be fair this is the first time he’s seen a saber that wasn’t opaque.

Ahsoka makes a face. “Possibly. All I can say is that it looked like the blade was somehow being held in two positions, the first when you blocked, then at the same time the position you moved it to. Like there was an afterimage of some kind. But I’ve never head of a crystal that can do that, not any of the common ones at least.” She sighs. “Maybe if we had access to any of the old Order texts they’d have an idea, but that’s not likely.”

No, not with Coruscant also being under First Order control.

“But I also don’t see how this couldn’t be to your advantage. I’d have to see it in combat myself, but if it consistently confuses your opponent as to where your blade is, I say use it.”

-

It’s been a standard week now since he’s seen Pelot, and there hasn’t been any sign of her or any of the other knights making planet fall. At least that he’s been able to sense, and as far as he knows none of them were skilled at hiding their signatures—perhaps Ap’lek since he did stealth, but if Kuruk had decided against Pelot, than Ap’lek would follow.

Jacen and Kana both were, which explained how Jacen had managed to survive in the First Order without Snoke or any of the Knights sensing him. Kana’d even tried to teach Ben, but he’d been abysmal at it. While it would have been a useful talent to have, not being able to do it didn’t bother Ben as much as he thought it would. He’d certainly come a far cry from needing to be the best at everything in order to prove himself.

The thought makes him smile as he weaves his way through Hope Town—Ben can’t judge the troopers here for calling it that, not with Porkchop in Ben’s life—content to just be among people with nothing really planned.

Perhaps in the next day or two he’ll borrow a speeder and head into Capitol City, see if anyone’s heard anything. But for now he’ll have to just try not to worry about things he can’t actually control—he finds he does hope Pelot manages to make it, however.

Between one step and the next he realizes something is...off. He instinctively reaches out with the Force first, but doesn’t feel anything too out of the ordinary, just people going about their lives. There is Jacen’s signature in the White Loth-Cat, but nothing else worthy of note.

So then something about his person.

His credit chips are still where they should be—though Hope Town is thriving enough that he hasn’t noticed a pickpocket problem—as are his ring and necklace. His saber...ah, his saber’s somehow gone missing.

That’s...something of a concern.

He retraces his steps, but doesn’t catch sight of it anywhere. Where the kriff could it be? Hopefully none of the children found it and decided it was a new toy.

“Missing something?” A woman calls out from a stall selling fruits.

Feeling wary he turns. “Yes.” He doesn’t see the need to be more elaborate than that. Unless he absolutely has to.

She shrugs, as if it’s nothing to her. “It might’ve been AS-H0L.”

“Who in recruitment was pissed off enough to name a trooper asshole?” It leaves him before he can think to stop it. Nevermind that it couldn’t have ever been an official ‘name’ in the Order, but it certainly fit the trooper humor he’d only ever been vaguely aware of as Kylo Ren. He has no idea what these people think about him, if at all, but he’s certainly been careful to try and distance himself from the Order when he can around them. Him getting the joke probably isn’t going to help.

The woman lets out a bark of laughter, thankfully. “Not one of us,” she finally answers. “A goose, from the Rex farm. It’ll steal whatever it likes, with no regard for anything sensible. Hence ‘AS-H0L.’”

“Which way to the farm?” It’s not as if he’s going to let a pfassking goose keep his saber. No way in hell or Malachor.

“Just keep going down the main road, it’s on the right and there’s a sign. Good luck,” she seems far too pleased saying it. Granted he doesn’t doubt that by the time he gets to this farm word’ll have spread about the strange Force user going up against a goose. He lets out an aggravated sigh and goes.

He sweeps by the White Loth-Cat on his way, and bites back another sigh when he feels Jacen’s Force signature leave there and come after him. “What’s got you all worked up?”

“My saber was stolen by a goose,” the idea is still baffling in a way.

Jacen gives a sage nod. “AS? He does that. Stole my saber too, once.” Ben doesn’t know how he feels about being clapped on the shoulder by the other man. “It’s certainly a good learning experience. Although I don’t think it ever stole from Kana.”

“She would’ve killed and eaten it right after she caught it.” Ben knows enough about her to know that.

“Point,” Jacen agrees. “Don’t worry, with two of us we’ll definitely get your saber back.” It doesn’t surprise Ben that Jacen is as helpful as seemingly everyone else here; but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t find it strange . An acquaintance shouldn’t be this concerned about him. 

Although Ben’s also sure Jacen’s doing this because he knows it’ll be funny. Even if he’s not quite wrong about it being a learning experience. Though honestly a part of Ben is tempted to just kill the goose when he finds it, and damn whatever consequences it might entail. He’s still learning how to do this, and dealing with a kriffing goose is as good a way as any—it’ll certainly involve fewer hurt feelings.

They find the Rex farm easily. Jacen calls out a greeting, but doesn’t seem surprised when there’s no response. “AS’ hidey-hole is back here.” Which at least saves Ben the time it’d take to find it himself.

He knows they’re headed in the right direction when the air fills with an angry hissing sound. AS appearing out from under a bush, wings spread and clearly not happy with the idea that something of his is about to be taken.

“Oh no.” With all the annoyance and mild anger inside Ben it’s easy to hold AS, lift him up even so Ben can look the damn bird in it’s beady little eyes. “You are not going to get the better of me a second time. I’m the sentient-” A yelp leaves him.

The damn goose kriffing bit his nose.

Kill it, crush it’s bones, show them not even the beasts can cross you. Ben exhales sharply. This is his anger, he gets to decide what he does with it, thank you very much. He doesn’t know if the whispering is truly the Dark or not, but he’s dealt with whispering in his mind all his life, and now he knows how to deal with it.

The anger does mean he gets a firmer hold on AS, one he doesn’t even have to focus on. Meaning he can reach out and call, something in his chest easing when his saber flies into his hand. He narrows his eyes at AS. “Ten minutes,” he tells it testily. He’s never done it like this before, but the intent is generally the same.

He’s certainly angry enough he could hold for ten minutes, even in Capitol City with AS still here. Though he’s not interested in finding out at the moment if that assessment is true or not.

“That was less interesting than I thought it would be.” Ben should perhaps be relieved that Jacen’s trying to hold back his laughter.

“I’m absolutely coming apart at the seams that I didn’t entertain,” Ben replies dryly.

Which is apparently the last straw, if Jacen’s cackling laughter is any indication. Ben just sighs and decides he’s better off finding Porkchop than trying to be around people.

-

It’s been another standard week now, and Ben decides that even if the Knights haven’t gotten away and are waiting for him, going to Capitol City might not be the worst thing. It’ll mean a surcease of commiserating looks from people who’ve also had encounters with AS.

He borrows a speeder from Hera and takes the road into the city.

Ben finds the biggest market he can and lets himself wander, half listening for any mentions of dark and possibly angry strangers.

After an hour he buys himself some food—a few sticks packed full of a glazed meat, and two blue fruits for after—and finds a sort of common table to eat at. He hears a lot of gossip and rumors from the locals, but nothing implying any of his Knights have survived. Ben knows it was a faint hope, but he also knows it wasn’t likely. Snoke didn’t take kindly to traitors.

Finishing his food he cleans his hands as best he can and decides to wander around a little more, paying a bit more attention to the goods around him. Buying little things for his partners a nebulous idea in the back of his mind.

Which is how he spots it, nearly buried underneath a pile of small scarves. Carefully he unearths the leather case, wondering if it’s really what he thinks it is.

Undoing the straps holding it together he unrolls it.

A calligraphy set.

Perhaps not nearly as fine as the one his mother had pressed into his hands before leaving him with Luke, but nice enough. None of the brushes have frayed, the inkstone isn't cracked, and the stick of dried ink is still good sized. It’s clearly been used and loved before, but now it’s waiting for someone else to use it.

Ben doesn’t think twice.

“Ah,” the merchant who runs the stall smiles, his eyes glittering with the promise of a good session of bartering. “A discerning choice for a young gentleman such as yourself.” Ben only just manages to hold his snort back, gentleman he is not. “Five hundred credits?”

Considering how many credits he has left he shrugs. “Sure.” He knows bartering is part of the culture here, but he wants this enough to pay the man’s asking price.

His response earns him a blink, clearly having thrown the man for a loop. But Ben just pulls out his credit chip and hands it over, the man’s hands working, even if the brain doesn’t.

Clutching the set tightly Ben makes his way back to the speeder. He might not have flimsi, but that’s an easy fix.

-

It turns out he’s got a bit of luck, the grasses that make up the plains of Lothal are fibrous enough to make good pulp. Doing all the mindless work before you could start making flimsi is an easy rhythm for him to fall back into.

The only minor distraction is Rey, her curiosity prickling at the edges of his mind before she’s there-not-there. She doesn’t say anything however, content to watch and float through his wandering mind as he makes.

In a way it feels good to be making flimsi again. He’d done it, and made his own inks after a while, quite a lot at Luke’s Temple. The calligraphy set Leia had given him did have flimsi in it, three sheets of achingly perfect flimsi. Flimsi a young Ben had known shouldn’t just be used for any old thing. So making his own flimsi, once he’d figured out how.

Which Luke had encouraged, whole heartedly. Making flimsi and ink were harmless, constructive even; so of course Luke had been proud when Ben had excitedly shown off those first few messy sheets of flimsi.

His body stills, his mind catching up soon after. All the boiling and mashing and building is done, his mildly aching shoulders proof enough.

Ben drags everything outside, and pours all the liquids into the trough he’d borrowed from next door.

Rey giggles and he feels his heart do a little flip. “You’ve got something…” she reaches out and plucks a bit of grass pulp from his cheek. “So this stuff is rare then?”

He nods as he rolls his sleeves up his elbows and gets his area just how he wants it. “Unless it’s well taken care of, flimsi doesn’t last long, and at most planets stop using it once they’d made the jump to datapads.”

He sees her eyes sparkle in her reflection in the trough. “Ha. I knew it.” Her reflection breaks up as he remixes everything. Before he can ask what she means her head is tilting back towards Ezra and Sabine’s house. “Who’re they? One of them Ahsoka?”

Dipping his frame into the trough he gathers enough pulp and brings it out the water, glancing over as he begins to tilt the frame to spread the pulp around. “Sabine and Hera,” he answers.

They reach him as he’s using a stirring spoon he’d liberated from the kitchen to free the flimsi from the frame. It’s nothing special, he’d done the pulp fine enough that it’s not rough looking, but the color could be better. He’s not about to start complaining however, not with the wide eyed looks from the two women.

Hera crouches down next to his stack of burlap, hand reaching out. “I’ve never seen flimsi before,” she sounds almost awed.

“Don’t touch it, please,” he remembers to add. “It’s not done yet, and still pretty fragile. You could help peel the sheets off tomorrow, when they’re dry,” he offers.

“How much are you planning on making?” Sabine doesn’t sound as awed, but she’s clearly impressed.

“As much as I can,” he answers, he covers the first sheet with burlap and starts laying down the second. It’s not as if he’ll be running out of grass anytime soon, and he has easy access to three different kinds of thickeners here in town alone. Ben’s certainly going to try and make enough that he can just...work. Spend a few hours letting his hand glide across the page as he figures things out.

He’s decided to spend another standard week here on Lothal, before seeing if Ahsoka’s interested in heading out. Ben’s not quite feeling the itch to go out and do something, but soon he knows it’ll come along.

“I’ll help,” Hera agrees. “I didn’t think it would be this easy to make, considering how rare I’ve always heard it to be.”

Sabine snorts. “I mean this isn’t how my Clan makes it, but it does take time. You gotta really want it.”

Ben finds himself hoping Sabine will share how her clan makes flimsi. Next to him Rey laughs softly. Her hand squeezes his shoulder, then she’s gone. “I can’t say I’ve met many other people who’ve made flimsi too.” It’s not as if he could’ve started a conversation with any of the First Order, or Resistance troops, about it. The former had been too afraid of him, and the latter too nervous around him.

“We don’t make it very often,” she admits. “We keep a book, tracing the Clan all the way from Pre Vizla to now. Every once in a while we need to add in a few more pages, so we can add more ‘now.’”

Even he’s a little agog at that, he’s certainly never made a book. Let enough filled one with enough stuff that he needed to add more pages.

The conversation continues, and he keeps making flimsi, perhaps more than he knows what to do with. But he’ll try.

-

The next day his flimsi is dry, and after about an hour of work, he and Hera have a tidy pile of the stuff. “Here.” He takes off the top piece and hands it to her, feeling the tips of his ears burning some.

She spends a few seconds just running her fingers over it, taking in the texture and softness of it. “Thank you.” She smiles and walks off, that grumpy astromech of hers—Ben bemusedly wonders what it’d be like if Artoo and this one met—rolls over and chatters at her. “No, Chopper, you can’t have it.”

Laughing softly Ben takes the rest of the flimsi and heads up to his room. He sets it on the desk, rolls out his calligraphy set, then starts to make the ink. The meditative state he falls into as he grinds water and ink together old but familiar.

Behind him he feels a flicker through the Force, someone alive-yet-not, settling in to watch. He doesn’t turn around to see who it might be. Not afraid to see who it might be, just focused more on his work. Not willing to rush himself, or whomever it might be who’s decided to visit him.

The ink finally finished he lays out his first bit of flimsi and picks up the thinnest of the brushes, he dips it in the ink, then begins writing. The ink is a dark blue, not the black he expected, against the cream colored paper.

Just like with making the flimsi, and the ink, Ben finds it’s easy to fall back on how he’d done all of his private writing: a mishmash of Alderaanian and Corellian, with Basic’s syntax and Chandrillan’s punctuation. It looked nice, but read like gibberish if you didn’t know what went into it. Perfect for a boy—later teenager—who didn’t want other Padawans, or then Master reading his private thoughts.

There might not be a worry over someone reading it now, but it’s still pretty looking. And writing out everything that’s happened to him since he left Snoke and the Order might as well look pretty.

Behind him there’s a snort. “Redemption is a road,” Windu’s voice floats to Ben. “Not an act, and the end destination might not be to your liking. Writing a pretty book will not make you seem better than you are.”

Ben snorts right back. “I’m not doing it for anyone but myself. If I’m going to be…” he shrugs. “...following the Bendu, then I might as well figure out what I want and don’t want my path to be. This is helping me figure out my thoughts.” His brush continues to ramble as he begins to finish up the first page. “Find out what’s actually important. And I don’t care what the ‘end’ of my road might be, I’ve already gotten more than I thought I deserved.”

The love of his family, his partners, a second chance. He doesn’t deserve any of it, but he’d been given it anyways.

Windu makes a non-committal sound, but doesn’t say anything more for the moment.

Setting aside the first page, Ben grabs the second. The silence stretches again, but the Dark inside of Ben nudges perhaps a little too hard. “I would have thought you’d disapprove of me not being a Jedi.” Windu was a Master of the Jedi Order after all, been part of it’s council.

A bark of laughter isn’t the answer he expects, but he finds himself someone grateful for it. “Perhaps I already know you are Jedi, for all you claim otherwise.”

“No.” And it’s a testament to Ben’s control now that the only sign of his anger is in his voice, not even the flimsi moves. “If the Force does have a will, whether that be some being inside it or it’s own. It chose to end the Jedi Order, and the Sith. I know there were Jedi who fell to the Dark and clawed their way back into the Light, and the Jedi’s good graces. But I am not one of them. The Jedi are no more. If I am anything, then I am perhaps the only Knight of Ren, who are most certainly not of the Light.” Though they weren’t so Dark that Ben doesn’t see them inching towards the Twilight, especially if he’s the only one left.

“For one I’m not going to give up my attachments. I’ve tried it twice now, on both sides, and a kriffing lot of good it did me.” Not that Luke had ever taught that having attachments was bad—perhaps one of the few good things Ben could have learned back then—but that the only attachment that would last was the one you had with the Force.

Ben refuses to believe that. “Two, I’ve never been good at letting go of my emotions.” Controlling and channeling, yes. Letting go, not so much.

“Good,” Windu’s approval surprises him. “I needed to be sure you knew where you stood.”

The ink in Ben’s stone ripples before he puts his brush in it, disliking that he’d been tested. Never liking it before, and certainly not now . He held back the urge to snip and snark, knowing it might drive Windu off. Granted if the old Master wasn’t willing to teach him Vaapad, Ben’s sure he could find some enterprising Darksider who might be up to teaching him Juyo.

“I don’t think you’d find that half as enjoyable as this,” Windu replies. “Your anger won’t scare me off anytime soon.”

“Yes, well, you’re dead, I’m sure that helps.”

“The second lesson of Vaapad is this:'' Windu continues, as if Ben hadn’t spoken at all. “When you fight, you must be relentless and aggressive. Yet do not be the one who seeks out or starts the fight, always be the one to end it, however.”

Pulling out a fresh page, Ben writes down that and the lesson from the Cave, setting that page aside when he’s finished. “Thank you, Windu, sir.” Perhaps it would be respectful to call him ‘Master,’ even if Ben wasn’t Jedi; but Ben is done with masters, chosen or otherwise.

“Good luck.” Windu is gone before Ben can wonder if that was sarcasm or not.

-

His body’s finally starting to figure out it might be nice to move again; though he doesn’t get up and stretch just yet, wanting to finish this page. Behind him he can feel Porkchop playing with his necklace—he’d taken it off when she’d come in from wherever she’d been since they landed and floated it around for her to bat at. He’ll play around with her when he’s done, he decides.

A chirrup sounds next to him and he starts, brush making a jagged line across the flimsi. He bites off the annoyed sound he wants to make, overall far too pleased that he’s getting a comm.

He picks up the binary and answers. “Hello?” He has no idea who to expect this time on the other end.

“Hello!” Four voices chorus, sounding far too pleased with themselves.

“We miss you,” Rey says before he can speak.

“Poe says you got a cat,” Finn sounds dubious and interested at the same time.

“He literally won’t stop talking about you since he got back,” Rose agrees.

Poe groans.

Ben laughs, not unkindly. “I didn’t realize I’d made such an impression.” He’s pleased too. Liking that he’s a part of their lives, even if he’s not there physically.

“Buddy,” Poe sounds intent. “I might not be Force sensitive, but even I could feel you were different. I just thought everyone else would like some warning, it was pretty intense.”

Recalling their brief encounter after the rescue from Abrax VI, Ben smirks. “You seemed to be enjoying it at the time, Dameron.”

Rey laughs, out of all of them she probably knows his changes best after all, considering they were apparently bonded—though it seemed to be spotty at best, like a badly tuned holonet. Finn and Rose make almost matching strangled sounds.

“What did you do with yourself?” Finn sputters.

“Found my balance,” he answers with a shrug. “How’re things over there?” He wants to know about their lives, after all. Porkchop hops onto his lap, meowing intently. Falling quiet only when he starts to scratch behind her ears. “That would be Porkchop,” he answers before any of them could ask.

“We’re good,” Rose finally answers. “The general’s planning on moving us soon, though she hasn’t said where.”

“Wasn’t happy that our last mission blew up in our faces. Know it wasn’t the mole’s fault, but she and the rest of command are pretty sure we need to move, even though we haven’t really heard chatter about the First Order gearing up for an attack.”

That makes sense. “How is she?” Perhaps he should have asked after his parents sooner, but he also knows they can take care of themselves, and that if anything too awful happened he would have felt it through the Force.

“Good,” Poe answers. “She had to give Han a dressing down when he came back after smuggling you out, but I’m sure the both of them enjoyed it more than they should have had.”

“It was pretty funny,” Rey agrees. “I’m amazed Chewie managed to get through it all without laughing.” All of those things are perhaps bits he might’ve been better off not knowing. He is glad that they seem to be happier though. “Han’s off again though, apparently he and Chewie got work from someone named Lando, something about scaring pigs.”

Ben smiles, hoping his uncle is doing well. “Did your sabers turn out alright? Mine’s certainly not quite what I expected.”

Rey and Finn keep trying to talk over each other, much to the amusement of the rest of them. Ben lets himself relax, content to be for a change.

-

A few more days pass, Ben filling them up and distracting himself from his worries with writing, sparring—Jacen and Ahsoka for the most part, but even Kana had gone up against him twice—and a few more calls to his partners. They sound just as eager for him to come back as he is to go back, but he’d made the promise of a standard week, and there were still three days to go.

Ben’s now on his second...draft of calligraphy as it were. Combing through what he’s already written and picking out the bits that feel the most important to him—chief among them the fact that Bendu had called him Skywalker Ren during that ‘speech,’ the sneaky sentient. Ben’s certain he’s fumbling towards something, but he doesn’t quite know what it is yet.

He’s halfway through rewriting Bendu’s comment about what a Skywalker might be, it sounds so right, but he’s not sure his uncle would feel quite the same way, when he feels Darkness. It’s almost the same pulse that originally drove him to meet Ahsoka—he never did figure out what made that searching pulse in the first place—but more...perfunctory.

This time it doesn’t send him into a bit of blind panic, but something akin to relief. Pelot, at the very least, made it out, and finally arrived on Lothal.

As much as he wants to hop on a speeder and head out now , he makes himself find Ahsoka and Ezra. They deserve to know what he might be bringing into Hope Town; and if they don’t feel comfortable with it, he has enough credits to put himself and whomever might be left up somewhere until he figures out another solution.

Their...stars, that feels right too, people bright like stars and people dark as the void between those stars—and those who might be close to stars, and yet not stars themselves—lead him to the White Loth-Cat. Ezra is serving drinks, and Ahsoka is minding the bar. ‘Can we talk, somewhere private?’ He sends out.

Ahsoka nods, and tilts her head back towards where the stock’s kept, Ezra coming up behind Ben as he starts to head that way.

“What’s up, Stranger?” Ahsoka’s at ease, but he’s sure she won’t be for long.

He tells them in a rush, because he’s not sure he’ll be able to do it otherwise. Once he finishes he bites his cheek to keep from continuing on, the pain helping him to keep his emotions in check, too.

“Some more warning would have been nice,” Ezra doesn’t sound too angry, more curious. “Though I suppose that couldn’t be helped. So long as they truly don’t want to return to the First Order they’ll be welcome here.”

“It could be a trap,” Ahsoka points out. She’s clamped down on her feelings, but he can still tell she’s clearly not happy. “The Order could’ve tortured the meetup out of Pelot and sent more loyal Knights to kill you, or take you back to Snoke.” She hisses through her teeth. “Stang. I know Dark doesn’t mean evil, just deep, but I still don’t like it.” She lets out a few more curses in languages he doesn’t know.

Ben can only nod. “It could be a trap,” he agrees. “But Pelot didn’t know about Hope Town, and Lothal is out of the way enough that anyone could think I just picked it at random, especially with how the First Order’s...avoided it.”

Ezra lets out a smug laugh. “Give you a Lothal hour, then come in sabers blazing?”

“Maybe, if it is a trap I should be able to handle it on my own.”

“Oh no,” Ahsoka shakes her head. “I heard that far too many times during the Clone Wars. We’re giving you that hour, after the fifteen or so minutes it takes to get into the city. If you don’t send out an ‘all clear’ after that hour’s up, we’re coming in. Just because I’m not happy with this doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you get nabbed.”

It takes Ben a few seconds to realize she’s talking about hearing that from his grandfather—maybe Kenobi too—and laughter is not a good response to that. “Fine,” he agrees. Even if he personally doesn't like it. Though there is a warm flare at the sentiment as a whole.

He double checks that he has his saber—AS hasn’t stolen it again, though not for lack of trying—then heads out.

-

This time instead of running from the Darkness, he heads towards it. Though it’s more difficult than he’d thought it would be, Darkness not much caring about where roads and buildings might be.

He finally finds the seat of it in an out of the way cantina. Which, when he enters and glances around, is perhaps not a wretched hive of scum and villainy, but it’s not catering to truly law abiding citizens either.

It’s easy to spot his Knights in that quick glance, if only because Ap’lek tends to stand out when he’s not in his blacks and helmet. Ap’lek’s never mentioned what his species is, but whomever they are, they’re reptilian, and if Ap’lek’s any indication, brightly colored. The male’s yellow scales eye catching.

Which makes Kuruk, who’s practically sitting on the other male, stand out even more. Near Human, with black skin, black hair only just starting to silver with age, and pale yellow eyes that were not Sith, but genetic. It doesn’t surprise Ben the two males are being so...touchy, their marriage something they’ve done their best to keep hidden while they were with the First Order.

Sitting across from them is a woman. Ben can’t help but gape a little at Pelot. It’s not attraction, but he certainly never expected her to look like this—she’s never taken off her helmet before, even in private. She’s near Human too, blue skin, with loose, long, blue-black hair—which bodes well for this not being a trap—he can’t quite see her face clearly from this angle, but it appears sharp, and the bit of eye he catches looks very red, all over. The void-black gown she’s wearing doesn’t help make her blend in much more than the rest of her.

He takes a step towards them and they still, seeming to finally sense his presence. They don’t rise as he finishes approaching, but the only other chair does slide out, and they watch him intently until he’s seated.

Pelot—which is still jarring to think—turns her attention from him to the two males. “Told you,” without the vocalizer she sounds less rough, and almost pleasant. Her face is angular, and those whole-red eyes are quite off-putting, even if there’s an iris and pupil in there.

 Kuruk rolls his eyes. “Fine, you were right.”

“Don’t get testy, love,” Ap’lek rests his chin on Kuruk’s shoulder. “We’re glad you’re still with us Lord Ren.”

“Yes,” Kuruk sighs. “If nothing else freedom’s better than being Snoke’s...shadow guard,” he sneers at this. “Kriffing sure I wouldn’t have liked it more the second go round than the first. Least you don’t see us as toys.”

“What about the others?” He’s pleased that more than Pelot escaped, but curious too.

A shrug from all three. “Cardo seemed baffled by the idea that there could be Darkness outside the First Order, as if Snoke himself’s the one who skit out the Shadow,” Kuruk’s annoyance flickers across his face. “The Knights of Ren existed long before we met that male, I don’t know how Cardo could’ve forgotten that, he’s been around almost as long as Ap’lek and I.”

“I think he hoped the Sith would rise again,” Ap’lek comments. “And as for Vicrul...”

“He didn’t give a reason,” Pelot continues. “But sided with Cardo all the same.” She toes the box at their feet. “If you’re worried about them hunting us down, they’re dead now.”

Ben nods. “Did you manage to find mine?”

“Yes,” Ap’lek answers. “Hux was using them for target practice.” His tongue flicks out between sharp teeth. “Took the best of the two and destroyed the other. Managed to erase his recording feed too, so that’ll put him in quite a snit.”

Kuruk grins, an arm reaching up to wrap around Ap’lek’s neck. “So nice and thorough, sunshine.”

“Oh no.” Pelot doesn’t even twitch a finger, but the two males freeze under her hold. “I’ve had to spend the last two weeks listening to you two flirt and tuff, while we were supposedly ‘laying low,’” there’s only the barest thread of annoyance in her voice. “I want one conversation that doesn’t involve that. One.” She releases them. “Do it again and I’ll seperate you.”

Ap’lek hisses. Kuruk rolls his eyes. “You’re not my commanding officer, or my mother, Pelot. So go rot on a moon.”

“And I’d rather not get blood on this dress, but if you’re going to be a moof-milker about it…” She shrugs, her muscles rippling.

“Enough,” Ben says before they can get really into it. It might be common practice of a sort, these arguments between Knights, but that doesn’t mean he has to stand for it, not right now at least. “So you weren’t followed then?”

“No,” Ap’lek answers. “We got out clean, though by now Snoke knows what went down. Like Pelot said, spent the past two weeks taking our time, just in case someone in the First Order was following. No bugs or trackers on the ship, lucky I’d done a sweep right before Pelot got back to us.”

Luck, or perhaps the Force. Ben doesn’t say it though. “Good. This isn’t our final stop though.” He stands, grabbing the box from Pelot, and the Knights follow. He goes to his speeder bike, and in the time it takes to attach the box to it, they’ve returned with their own.

He leads them out of Capitol City, and remembers to send an annoyed ‘I’m fine,’ through the Force. 

None of them talk, as he leads them towards Hope Town, which he’s fine with, because he’s now stuck with the fact he needs to figure out what to do next . Return to the Resistance? Go somewhere else? Stay here and try to work out what this path of his, and possibly his Knights, is? Plan out an attack and take Snoke down for good?

Ben shakes his head on the last one. He wants that, but something in him tells him to wait, just a little longer. He can do that, he’s got enough things to focus on at the moment.

He doesn’t take them right to Hope Town, instead to the Liberator, collecting Ushar’s helmet and adding it to the box. “What do you want those for anyways?” Kuruk asks. “Clearly aren’t going to wear them.”

A snort leaves Ben as they head into town proper. “No, no more masks.” He knows that at least.

They get odd looks, granted the Knights look right back, when they reach town. He’s cursing not telling Ezra or someone else about this earlier, because figuring out where they would be staying beforehand would have been good. So he just takes them to Ezra’s place, deciding they can work out accommodations later.

Ben unhitches the box, carrying it easily. “You can stay here for now, or you can come with me, meet the other Force users here.” He shrugs. “If you stay here, don’t kill anyone.”

Ap’lek sighs. “But I like killing people.”

Pelot looks like she’d roll her eyes, if it weren’t beneath her.

“I’m sure we’ll get to kill people later, sunshine,” Kuruk consoles. “Think we’ll stay here, been a while since I just got to sit out in the sun.” Closing his eyes he turns his face up to it.

“Sun is nice,” Ap’lek agrees. “Least a year since we were planetside.”

“I’m going with you,” Pelot says. “You still have to hold up your end of the bargain.”

Right, introducing her and Kana, which should be...interesting. Leaving the two males he heads to the White Loth-Cat. “I know it’s rude to ask,” at least as he’d been taught it. “But what are you?” She certainly doesn’t look like most of the sentients he’s come across. Not Pantoran, not with those eyes.

“Chiss,” she answers. He doesn’t recognize the name, not much of a surprise, but she continues. “You would probably know of one of the others who left Csilla, Thrawn.” She continues past him when he comes to a standstill.

“Kriff,” it doesn’t take him long to catch up. “Why?” He is curious. No one knew much of anything about the Chiss, except that their planet was somewhere in the Unknown Regions, and they kept to themselves.

“I read Thrawn’s reports same as any other Chiss, and while I agree with him about you moactan’teel I was curious. When it became clear what would be expected of me and my Sights, I left Csilla. Better to be free than trapped on a ship, an Ozyly’esehembo for the rest of my Sighted days.”

“Ozeleeshemboo?”

“Ozyly’esehembo,” she corrects. “In Basic it would literally translate to...Skywalker.” She waves a hand. “A navigator.” She comes to a stop and looks up. “Is this the place?”

Right, the White Loth-Cat. “Yes,” he manages to say without descending into laughter. He hadn’t thought Bendu was being literal when he’d mentioned Ben had already met another Skywalker. “I’m not sure Kana’s in or not.” She usually hid her signature, even at ‘home.’ He could feel Ezra still there though, and Jacen too.

Managing to keep a hold of himself he enters, he gets a few glances, but he’s nothing new anymore; Pelot gets more stares than he does, not that she seems to acknowledge them, her attention on the art instead.

Leaving her to it Ben goes to the bar, where he sets the box on the metal.

“What’s this then?” Ezra appears torn between looking at Pelot or at the box.

Ben doesn’t fight the grin that crosses his face. “I know Ahsoka brings you helmets all the time. I thought this could be a good thanks, for everything.” He opens the box, revealing the seven masks of the Knights of Ren.

“Oh, pfassk.”

Now, Ben lets himself laugh.

-

Ben wakes in the night, Darkness thrumming through him. He lays there, trying to figure out what it is that woke him. A few seconds later he hears, almost even feels, the wind buffet the house. Not strong enough to actually blow it down, but clearly intent on trying.

There’s no actual voice in the wind, but he feels it calling to him all the same. Porkchop makes a sound of displeasure as he gets up, but she quickly takes the warm spot he leaves in the bed for herself. Grabbing his lightsaber he heads downstairs.

He isn’t surprised to see Pelot already there, her own axes in hand, or Ap’lek and Kuruk exiting their own room, force pikes glinting sullenly in the dim light.

No words need to be spoken, they can all feel the call inside them and are willing to answer. Once again he leads them. Outside the wind and rain lash at them, soaking them all instantly. It’s cold, but Ben’s suffered worse, the coldness fading away as they head deeper into the plains, away from town. 

They come to a stop as one, spreading out into a small circle.

Ben flicks his lightsaber on, and the fight begins.

He doesn’t know how long it goes on for, this fight and dance. All he knows is how good it feels, every little cut and bruise anchoring him to his body as they move, all of them seeming to know how to hold off the truly injuring blows.

There are no voices in the Dark urging them on, urging them to further violence and the kill. Why should there be, Ben wonders as he ducks under a thrust from Kuruk’s pike. The Light never had a voice, so why should the Dark be any different? For now it doesn’t matter who, or what, is the voice he knows all Darksiders have heard at one point; only that it’s not the Darkside itself.

The wind picks up even more, drowning out the sound of Pelot’s axes colliding with Ben’s saber and Ap’lek’s own pike. He throws them both back, reveling in how good this feels.

No voices, no light, just the rain, the wind, and the Darkness.

-

They don’t stop sparring until the storm passes, giving way to a night full of stars.

Looking up at those stars, Ben lets himself collapse onto the rain-soaked grasses—it’s not as if he can get any wetter—letting them ground him, bring him back from the Darkness. “There are always stars,” it’s the first thing any of them have said all night, and it brings everything back into sharp focus.

“That’s the way of it,” Kuruk groans. “Can’t always see them, but they’re there, just like the sun.”

“One of the most terrifying places I’ve ever been,” Ap’lek yawns. “Was in realspace, don’t know how the pilot managed it, but ended up in a dead patch. No stars, no nothing, just endless darkness. Almost forgot what space should look like, we were stuck there for so long.”

Pelot snorts. “One would argue that’s what space is supposed to look like, Ap’lek. The galaxy expands, and the darkness between stars grows and grows.”

“Not for a long time yet,” Kuruk counters. “Billions and billions of stars out there, not even the Old Republic knew how many. Seen the survey pictures when I was little, no matter how far you zoomed in on the black spots, there’d always been more stars.”

Listening to them banter—there’s a marked difference, Ben notices, between this and before—something bubbles up inside him. “There’s nothing in the Darkness I need fear, so long as I know, somewhere, there are Stars.” Somewhere out there Rey and the others shone like stars, and he found he wasn’t afraid of the Darkness inside of him even though he couldn’t see them.

“Oh,” Pelot sounds quiet, emotions he can’t name echoing in that one sound.

Kuruk sighs, the whole of him only just visible in the starlight. “I know suns are also stars, and I get the implication, but…” He shakes his head. “I need sunlight I think.” He snorts. “Too Thyrsian.” He leans into Ap’lek when the other male sidles up next to him.

“Only having one code is what kriffed up the Jedi, well it helped.” Ben rubs his finger over his mother’s ring. “You’re still welcome in the Knights, or you can go if you want.” He won’t force anyone to follow whatever path he’s walking down, he knows that at the very least. Even if there’s a part of him that doesn’t like the idea at all. “It’s up to you.” 

“We’ll think about it,” Ap’lek answers for Kuruk. Scooping up the other man and carrying him towards one of Lothal’s seemingly ever present outcropping of rocks.

Ben looks around, biting back a bemused sound when he notices Pelot’s gone too—although he has no idea when she vanished. Hauling himself upright he goes back inside, remembering to strip out of his wet clothes before climbing back into bed. Porkchop’s purring lulling him into sleep.

-

Later that day they’re all outside, Ap’lek and Kuruk huddled close and talking quietly, while Pelot and Kana spar—well they said sparring, but the longer Ben watches the more he doubts that. Jacen sits next to Ben, occasionally cheering on Kana.

The need to be doing something is starting to settle in Ben’s head again, and he’s starting to realize that perhaps it’s time for him, them , to leave. He might only have bits and pieces of a thing, but it’s enough to at least start.

“Have you thought about joining the Resistance?” Jacen asks.

Ben doesn’t know if Jacen picked Ben’s thoughts out of his mind, or if he’s broadcasting very loudly. He does bite back a laugh though. “One could argue I already did join the Resistance, I just had to leave again to...figure the rest of me out.” He tilts his head and looks at the other man. “Is that what you’ve been talking about with the troopers?” 

Jacen nods. “Can’t be a mole or spy anymore, so might as well just join straight up, and I’m sure the Resistance wouldn’t turn it’s nose up at former troopers interested in striking back at the people who took away their freedom. Though a good chunk of the people here don’t want to fight anymore.” It’s hard to tell which part of that makes Jacen not happy. Ben almost wants to tell him about Finn, the other troopers might be more willing if they knew one of their own already joined. But that needed to be Finn’s choice. “Stopping the First Order’s important though, stop them, then no one has to fight anymore.” Ah, the last part then.

Kana and Pelot are still ‘sparring’ but from the sound Pelot makes, she’s listening in, and finding Jacen’s thoughts amusing.

Ben does too, because they’re very...innocent. Jacen was in the First Order after all, even he’d only been logistics. That Jacen is older than Ben makes it all the stranger, granted their lives were so very different. “Stopping the Empire didn’t end the fighting before.” Ben forces himself to stop there though, not exactly wanting to get into the discussion.

The sound the Jacen makes in response suggests he knows that, that perhaps he’s not as innocent as his words would suggest. Maybe it’s something stars in the Force do, hope and speak for the best, even if it’s not likely. “I just want something to be easy for once.”

Pelot does laugh now, the sound getting cut off as Kana sweeps Pelot’s legs from under her. “Nothing will ever be easy, nothing’s ever been easy.”

“That’s a depressing way of looking at life.” Kana offers Pelot a hand up.

Pelot takes the offered hand, and shrugs when she’s upright. “It’s not depressing if it’s the truth,” she answers. “It’s just something we have to live with as sentients. If you want easy I’m sure you know where to find holonovels.”

-

Ben helps with the loading of the ship Jacen’s managed to magic up from seemingly nowhere. He and the Knights have space on it, and it’s going to be interesting to see how that goes when they touch down with the Resistance.

Tomorrow, they’re launching tomorrow and Ben’s both eager and nervous. Poe had liked this new him, and the comms they’ve had imply everyone else is curious. But that doesn’t speak to his mother, or father, or what all his uncle will think of this new direction of possible Skywalkers. And Ben also knows curiosity doesn’t mean acceptance, that he might now be too much for them…

“Stop that.” Kuruk all but kicks his shin. “Or learn to shield your thoughts, broadcasting so hard I’m surprised none of the troopers have picked up on it. Making me antsy. And I don’t even know these people.”

Ben glowers at the other man’s back. Shielding as Luke had taught it had never worked for Ben, and after he’d joined up with Snoke shielding his thoughts and mind had been forbidden. Learning it now hasn’t exactly been on his to-do list, not with all the more pressing problems.

“You pick an emotion,” Pelot’s suggestion makes him frown.

“What?”

Again the suggestion of eye rolling without her actually doing it. “You pick an emotion and use it to hide your thoughts. Since the emotion’s part of you already, no one thinks to dig deeper than that. It’s how I hid my Third Sight for so long, and your offer when I met with Snoke after I returned.” She walks past him, crates drifting in her wake. “Pride is mine.”

Ben at least has the sense of mind to step out of the way as he thinks on that.

-

It’s late at night again, this time though, Ben isn’t woken from his sleep; he just can’t sleep at all.

Before he can really think about it the binary’s in his hand and he’s hitting the transmit button. As he waits he goes over calculations in his head, and realizes that perhaps he didn’t pick the best time to call Crait.

“M'llo?” Poe’s voice is sleepy and warm. Ben closes his eyes, for all his anxiety he finds himself wishing he was there.

He huffs, and shakes his head. “Sorry, didn’t think about the time.” 

“Don’t go.” It takes his mind a moment to realize that’s Rose’s voice, she sounds rougher. “Was gonna get up soon anyways,” she groans. Over the comm he hears bodies shifting, and one of Rey’s muttered snores.

“Kriff, I hate early call,” Finn’s voice joins in quietly. “Oh. We’re on comm? Morning?”

“Late at night,” Ben corrects, his chest feeling too tight. “Couldn’t sleep. Leaving Lothal later.”

“Another day in the life of a heroic wanderer, Taffy?”

“Not a hero,” he corrects again. He’s not sure he ever can be, but he can at least try to be a decent sentient. “I’m coming back, and bringing...some help.” Perhaps not as many troopers took Jacen up on his suggestion, but enough, plus the Knights—Kuruk and Ap’lek deciding to stay on for now.

Finn lets out a loud woop, soon drowned out by Rey’s annoyed sound at being woken up.

“Don’t be like that, Rey,” Poe cajoles. “He’s coming back home.”

Ben’s fairly certain he hears a question in the drawn out sound Rey makes—if it wouldn’t get him cuffed upside the head by Chewie he’d almost call it Shyriiwook.

“Yeah, I really am.” He might not know her exact question, but he knows her intent.

“Good,” Rey finally speaks, sounding even groggier than Poe. “We’re gonna need a bigger bed though.” Yes, five people in one bed was going to be a bit of a struggle. “Can’t,” she yawns. “Wait to have you back home.”

Ben blinks back tears. Home sounds good.

-

Everyone’s hurrying more than usual as takeoff gets closer and closer. Ben keeps himself off to the side, knowing that he’ll just be in the way. Spotting one of Ahsoka’s montrals he heads her way. A little surprised she’s not hurrying along with everyone else. “You’re not coming?” He catches himself off guard with how...unhappy that makes him. “If you’re worried about my mother and uncle…”

“No.” Ahsoka shakes her head. “I’m not worried about them, or about what sort of welcome I might get from the Resistance. I’m…” A long breath hisses out of her. “Afraid.” She gives a bemused shake of her head.

“Of what?”

Her blue eyes go distant, clearly not seeing the villagers around her milling about, but something else. “I loved your grandfather. He could be angry sometimes, but it was out of worry, and he was a good Master. Him and Kenobi both. And once I’d gained Knighthood, we were still good friends. We fought together, saved each other countless times, suffered together. How could I not love him for that?

“When I first heard that Anakin might be Vader, I didn’t react well. For a time I didn’t believe it, then I fought him on Malachor.” She shakes her head. “I’ve wandered deeper into the Darkness on my own before, but that realization, that it was the truth. It cut far deeper than I’d ever thought it would. Not even the Jedi Order’s betrayal hurt that much. Drove me that close to just giving in and letting the Darkness consume me.”

He reaches out without thought, squeezing her shoulder in comfort. He can’t truly understand, but his own experiences have tread close enough that he can empathize.

“And that’s not even going anywhere near your grandmother.” A sad laugh leaves her. “She tried so hard. To end the Clone Wars, to try and keep the Republic and democracy going. Starting the Rebellion with Bail and Mon when they realized that it wouldn’t be enough. Not that she lived to see the fruits of that labor…”

Ahsoka blinks rapidly. “I’m afraid, Stranger, that if I meet them, the grief inside me will finally take over.” She doesn’t fight when he pulls her into a hug. “Maybe if someone else who knew them had survived, who would understand. Maybe then I could do it, I know I could talk to Kenobi, or even Anakin himself, but the dead can’t offer the comforts the living can.

“Perhaps some day, Stranger, I’ll be able to meet them. Now, now I still have to deal with what’s inside me the only way I know how.”

She pulls herself away and walks off.

-

Even if Crait and Lothal are both in the Outer Rim, getting to one from the other will still take a few hours. Meaning that despite how good Ben’d felt, even after his conversation with Ahsoka, it starts to drift away the more time they spend in transit.

“None of that,” Ap’lek settles in next to him. He looks almost respectable in his nondescript clothes. His tongue flicks out for a second. “You’ve got some idea about the new Knights of Ren, so what are they?”

Ap’lek’s question draws in Kuruk, and as if summoned Pelot appears as well. She toes away Porkchop, who tries to attack the swaying hem of dress—this one in sunset colors, darkening the closer to the hem they got. He’d gotten new clothes too, though not as colorful.

It’s clearly a distraction tactic, but Ben welcomes it. “Well that’d be the first thing, would we still be the Knights of Ren, or Skywalkers? Bendu called me both.”

“Who the kriff is Bendu?” Kuruk asks.

Porkchop jumps into his lap—and only belatedly does Ben remember why he doesn’t want that—and makes herself comfortable as he begins his tale.

-

The base on Crait is bustling when they arrive, Command must’ve given the order to start packing up again.

Which doesn’t stop people from halting in their work to stare as Leia, Han, and a few others of Command approach Jacen’s ship. Ben doesn’t see his partners among them, but a quick pulse through the Force tells him they’re waiting nearby, wanting to let him have this time with his parents first.

Ben hangs back himself—resisting the urge to pull up the hood on his sweater—watching as his mother greets Jacen. “Welcome to the Resistance…”

“Jacen Syndulla, although I’d like to think I’ve been part of the Resistance for a while now,” he smiles. “Since I was spying in the First Order.”

Leia inclines her head. “Then I’m glad you could formally join us, Jacen, and I see you’ve brought friends too.” She holds out her hand. “Your mother was one of the best pilots in the Rebellion, and while I only met your father once, he left quite the impression.”

Ben isn’t surprised at how moonstruck Jacen looks, Leia can be a lot when she’s putting on the charm. “Thank you, general. And yes, most of them are former stormtroopers, but they’re eager to help take down the First Order.”

The other members of Command look intrigued by this, and Jacen goes when Leia hands him off to them. Her gaze unerringly turning to Ben—the rest of Command too distracted by Jacen, thank the stars.

He gestures behind him for the Knights to stay where they are and goes to his parents. Not interested in resisting the urge, he scoops his mother up into a hug, smiling at the not-quite dignified sound she makes. She hugs him back just as tightly however. “I’m glad you’re back.” They share another brief squeeze before he finally sets her down.

“Looking good, kid.” Their hug might not as...enthusiastic, but no less full of affection. His father pulls away and gives him a thorough once over. “Keep dressing like that and no one’ll ever think you’re a Jedi.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “I’m not a Jedi,” he points out.

Han grins. “Exactly.”

Leia looks at the both of them bemused.

Before the conversation can continue, a bellow echoes through the hangar. Ben has only a few seconds to brace himself before he’s the one being scooped up into a hug. “Hey, Chewie.” His uncle’s hug nearly breaks his spine in two, but Ben doesn’t mind.

Welcome back. Another attempt to break Ben’s spine, and he’s finally set down. Heard you got into a bit of trouble. Chewie, of course, sounds more proud than worried.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” he shoots back.

“Well then?” His mother interrupts, eyebrow arched in question. Han steps closer to her, and Ben can’t remember his parents ever looking so happy.

He shakes the thought off. “Ben,” he answers. “Just Ben, no Organa, no Solo.” He takes a steadying breath. “I let the past define me for too long, I’m trying to let it go for now.”

Leia takes one of his gloved hands in her own, the sad smile growing a little happier when she touches the ring he wears. “You’re still our son,” she tells him. “And I’m glad you found yourself, Ben.” 

Han reaches up and squeezes his shoulder.

“Now.” The sadness on his mother’s face disappears completely. “I do believe there are others who want to say hello.”

-

“Welcome home, Ben!” Rey all but leaps into his arms, squeezing him almost as tightly as Chewie had. She blazes star-bright in the Force, a sun unto herself. Turning her head towards him for a kiss, he happily drinks that sunlight down. Letting it sink into him and warm his soul.

They break apart and he smiles at her, the beginnings of contentment filling him. “I’m glad to be back,” he replies. “Though you could’ve let me tell you.” She must have figured out through the bond, though it hasn’t deigned to give him such insights into her . There’s time yet, however, hopefully a whole lifetime.

Her own smile is unrepentant. “Couldn’t help myself.” She drops down, and gives him a once over—if one far more appreciative than his father’s. “Dark blue?” She fingers the cloth of his sweater.

“Indigo,” he corrects. The last bit of color in the sky before true darkness fell.

“It suits you.”

“What’re the rest of us, chopped bantha?” Poe’s gripping is good natured however.

Giving Rey another brief peck, Ben grins and saunters over to Poe. Pulling the other man towards him he kisses him, sweeping them both down into a, perhaps, overdramatic dip. It gets a cackle out of Finn, Rose, and Rey however. Moving himself and Poe back upright he breaks the kiss. “That a good welcome enough for you, Dameron?”

Poe reaches out and gives him a light shove. “You’re gonna give a man ideas, you keep that up...Ben.” Poe says his name slowly, as if trying out the feel and shape of it.

“You’ve already accused me of being a romantic,” he says. “What other ideas are there?” More good natured laughing all around.

He goes to Finn next, who smiles brightly. “Ben.” He’s a brighter star than he used to be too, though not as bright as Rey. Though where Rey’s light moved and dipped, Finn’s stayed steady. Which didn’t stop Ben from soaking in that light too as they kiss.

Ben finds it harder to pull away from Finn as well, keeping contact by touching foreheads. “Finn.”

“Taffy,” Rose joins in.

Giving Finn a rueful smile he made himself pull away, turning to Rose. “Not ‘Ben?’ And kiss anyone else since we last talked?”

She laughs and he goes when she pulls him into a hug. “No. But maybe I’ll kiss you, if you’re lucky,” she sniffs. “And Taffy is far superior to Ben, it has a funny story attached to it.”

“I can work with that.” Bending down to kiss the top of her head isn’t the most comfortable position, but it feels right. It’s not as if they’ve had the chance to be more intimate than friends. There’s certainly something comforting about holding her, however, especially when everyone else just piles on him.

Rey wasn’t wrong about this being home.

Then she has to go and break the moment. “Master Luke wants to see you.”

With a sigh he starts to pull away—but not before pinching Rey—and goes to collect his Knights.

-

Rey and Finn follow, of course. Poe and Rose, having lured Porkchop out, seem bent on making the loth-cat the new mascot of the Resistance. Or something like that.

“I can’t believe I’m going to have to make nice with Luke Skywalker,” it’s not quite distaste in Kuruk’s voice.

Ap’lek hums. “I liked him, he was polite. ‘Least until he kicked our asses.”

Ben can feel Rey and Finn giving him looks, but he ignores them. “You don’t have to like him, but at least try to be polite, you two.” He sighs. “Think of it as a test, if that helps.”

Kuruk grumbles, but doesn’t argue. Well… “Why aren’t you telling Pelot to behave?” Ben catches Finn hiding a snigger behind his hand, quickly enough that Kuruk doesn’t catch it thankfully.

“Unlike you two, I haven’t met this Skywalker yet,” she answers tartly. “And I’m always polite with unknown warriors, especially if they’ve beaten the likes of you.” She lengthens her stride to outpace them, clearly not concerned with the fact that she doesn’t know where they’re going.

Granted Luke is bright enough in the Force that he’s hard to miss.

Rey’s eyes track Pelot, seemingly curious about the other woman. Ben doesn’t understand it, but perhaps he’s just spent too much time around Pelot—for a certain value of ‘too much time’—to be in Rey’s mindset.

Pelot steps through a door, the rest of them soon following, and there’s Luke. He’s eyeing Pelot curiously, his gaze growing a bit more guarded when he sees Ap’lek and Kuruk—though this is the first time he’s seen either without their masks. He’s unarmed though, which Ben is just going to have to take. “Ben.”

Another sigh leaves Ben. “At least mom let me introduce myself.”

“Sorry, kid.” Luke’s smile is rueful. “You’re…” The smile doesn’t turn into a frown, but Ben can tell it wants to. Luke likely not having expected Ben to turn out like this.

Ben takes a deep breath, doing his best to keep himself from being defensive.

“I like it,” Rey says before Ben can try and explain. “It’s like finding shade in the desert.”

Her words catch Ben off guard, but he warms at them. Moreso when Finn steps closer to him. “I cannot control the choices of others. Right?” The way Finn says it makes it sound like there’s more to it than that, but Ben appreciates the sentiment.

Luke sighs. “You're right, Finn. Be welcome then, so long as you do no harm to others against their wills.” His attention focuses back on Ben. “Well then, Rey wouldn’t stop chattering about how you’d built a new lightsaber, too.” Luke doesn’t quite raise his eyebrow in challenge. There’s curiosity there too, the same that Ahsoka probably felt.

With a flourish, he might not need them anymore to build up speed but he perhaps enjoys them too much to train himself out of them, he frees his saber and lights it. The blade only just visible in the bright light of the base. Since he has the undivided attention of Rey, Finn, and Luke, he swings it around some, perhaps showing off just a little.

“Kriff!” Finn’s exclamation seems to cover his surprise, as well as Luke and Rey’s. “How does it do that?”

Ben shrugs. “A property of the crystal, as far as I can tell. Not that I know what kind it is, it was sort of...given to me, didn’t think to ask at the time.” He disengages the blade, the room growing a little quieter. “I have a Code too,” he tells Luke. Hoping it’s enough for his uncle—Ben knows the two of them are going to have to have a long, private, conversation. To tell him what really happened at the Academy, and the whole Skywalker thing.

His uncle inclines his head. “Perhaps if you share yours, Rey finally will too,” he sounds fond and exasperated.

Rey shrugs when Ben looks at her. “Didn’t feel the need to share it right away, thought I might as well wait for you to come home.”

Ben can’t keep the fond smile from his face. He does his best to at least appear mostly serious though as he begins to recite. “Even in the deepest Darkness, Stars can cast their Light. And there is nothing in the Darkness I need fear, so long as I know, somewhere, there are Stars. I am blood and bone, sinew and spirit. I am mighty and meek, peace and passion. I am with the Force, always.” For a moment it feels as if the galaxy is in perfect stillness.

Luke looks as if he doesn’t quite understand, but wants too. Which is enough for now.

Rey steps up beside him, lacing her fingers with his and giving a squeeze. Her gaze meets Luke’s as she begins to speak. “Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force.

This one makes Luke frown a little, eyes narrowing. “That’s from the old Jedi books,” it almost sounds like an accusation.

Rey tilts her chin up. “It is,” she says. “I took them from the tree before you could burn it down.”

The flabbergasted look on Luke’s face is a sight. “I told you they were useless.”

“If they gave me my Code, then they clearly weren’t,” Rey shoots back. “And even if they didn’t have anything of value, they’re still valuable. I might not have known how rare flimsi and books were, but I know a rare find when I see it.” Her tone implies she’s clearly willing to fight Luke on it.

The Knights behind them laugh, clearly delighted by the whole display. “I see why you like her, Ren,” Ap’lek jibes.

Ben just bites back a sigh.

-

A few hours later his Knights have been settled—or as settled as they can be with the whole of the Resistance moving in a cycle or two—and have promised to continue to behave. He had dinner with his family, considering he was going to spend the next few hours with his partners, it seemed like a fair exchange. Then meeting up again with said partners. And it’s a bone deep sort of contentment to see them all together, joining them he scoops Porkchop out of Poe’s arms.

“Hey,” Poe’s protests are half-hearted at best as they walk together.

“Hello, kitty.” Finn reaches out a hand and scratches Porkchop behind the ear, earning him her undying devotion from the sound of it. “Why Porkchop?”

Ben shrugs. “Why not? It’s a good name.” He’s perhaps a little defensive about it.

“It is,” Rose agrees. “But it’s silly, too.”

“Says the woman who calls me ‘Taffy,’” he grumbles.

A bright happiness suffuses him, and it takes him a moment to realize it’s not him, but Rey. He doesn’t mind though, her happiness only strengthening his own.

They reach their room, and some awkwardness seeps in. Because what might’ve been a tight fit with four, it feels almost too crowded with five. Nevermind that their ways of settling in haven’t involved him in some time now. He clutches Porkchop closer, she makes a sound of annoyance before settling back down, face pressed into the crook of his elbow.

“What do you want, Ben?” Rey prompts.

“Cuddling,” he answers without thought. Sex right now doesn’t feel right, not yet. Cuddling he can do, maybe some kissing too. Although the fit’s going to be tight in the bed; in a fun sort of way, Ben supposes.

Poe gives a fond roll of his eyes. “Romantic,” he teases.

Ben just rolls his eyes right back, certainly far too mature to stick his tongue out at the other man. Porkchop starts to wiggle out of Ben’s grasp, and he lets her leap to the floor, half-watching her as she explores, half-watching everyone else. He should probably be undressing himself, but there’s a delightful amount of skin being revealed and why shouldn’t he enjoy watching?

Finn hip checks him. “Come on.”

“Yeah, Taffy.” Rose all but dives into the bed, bouncing slightly and giggling. “Why should you get to have all the fun?”

Rey and Poe soon join her, and Ben’s mouth goes a little dry. All of this really is more than he perhaps deserves, but these people also chose to have him in their lives. That had to at least mean something.

Not willing to hesitate Ben grabs the hem of his sweater and almost tears it he takes it off so fast. He tosses it to the side. Earning a displeased yowl from Porkchop when it lands on her—he and everyone else laugh, which eases the tension inside him considerably. He toes off his boots, then his pants.

Rose’s gaze turns appreciative, this is the first time she’s seen him like this after all. He almost wishes he could bring back that urgent dark heat that he’d felt when he’d thought Poe’d almost died, it might help with his confidence.

As it stands he manages to crawl into bed, not fighting it when Rey makes him move so she can somehow both cuddle his side and lie on top of him. Finn squeezes himself onto Ben’s other side, and Rose slides in behind him. Poe taking up the space behind Rey.

With five people under the covers it warms up fairly quickly, but Ben only luxuriates in the heat. Closing his eyes and letting out a contented sound, feeling as if he’s body’s relaxing for the first time in forever.

“I…” Rey’s voice is soft. “I don’t know if this is the right thing to say, but...thank you, for coming back.”

Ben manages to wrap an arm around her as he blinks back tears. “I’ll do my best to always come back, for any of you.” Just another way for him to prove he’s not who he used to be. That he cares enough to try and not hurt them, not if he has the choice.

Rey only nods quietly, and he can feel wet spots on his chest; her tears. Behind her Poe makes a soothing sound, shifting closer to hold her better. Finn reaches across Ben, and he watches as Rose climbs half on Finn, so she can touch Rey too.

Eventually Rey’s tears subside, and a feeling of peace begins to radiate from her. Ben’s echoes it, if darkly. Finn picks it up too, making it lean more towards a dawn, than a dusk. A new beginning, for all of them.