She was an illness he could not escape. An infection that would not heal, no matter what bacta he spread over the open wound that connected his soul to hers.
Her name was Rey. And, despite that coarse, rough exterior; despite the anger that cascaded off her flesh in waves of Darkness, she was nothing more than a scared little girl living in the shadow of a half-decayed man too large to contain.
2/
A grandfather she loathed and feared in equal measure.
Though she'd never admit so out loud.
Ben did all he could to coerce the truth from her rose petal lips. To convince her that Darkness was secure, but never safe.
Though the cold absence of her body was half-registered in his dreamless slumber, the tumultuous churning of Rey's research pulled Ben fully from sleep and into wakefulness.
Watching her as she pored over yet another text.
1/18
The quiet of a black night was interrupted only by the flickering flame of an old lantern Rey had coaxed back to life some time ago.
Just as she had coaxed him back to life, though not quite so carefully, so deftly, as she did with spliced wires and hodgepodge technology.
2/
She was a silhouette across their bedroom. A careful mess of buns she'd not bothered to take out before collapsing against him, cocooned in the mattress by a veritable nest of blankets she insisted they have at all times.
After so many years of nothing, Rey liked to be cozy.
3/
"It's been on Jakku?" The man rolled his eyes. "I bet the quadex core is full of sand."
"I cleaned it out!" Rey scoffed indignantly. "I did all of the repairs, I stopped the power core from overheating, and I bypassed the compressor! It's mine, and you need to leave!"
2/
"Who the kriff put a compressor on this ship?"
"It doesn't matter!" Rey practically shrieked.
"Oh?" the man replied, an easy grin on his face as he stepped toward her.
Rey's fists clenched around empty air, realizing that her staff was still in the cockpit.
He said nothing. Her reference to his nonchalance dug deeper than he could ever let her know, slicing through the sinew and bone of his chest to wrap clawed hands around his heart.
He didn't want to leave her. But what choice did he have?
2/
"Look at me," she demanded, her voice cracking, aching, breaking.
It was the most difficult thing he'd ever done, meeting her gaze and seeing the fractured soul she openly displayed behind her springtime eyes.
"You don't have to do this," she stated – pleaded.
3/
CW // Tricia
It had been two-hundred-fifty-nine days, thirteen hours and forty-six minutes since he'd slipped from her arms and disappeared beneath her fingertips.
Since she'd sat on the floor of Exegol's Cathedral, clutching a sweater still warm from his body, and sobbed.
1/25
It had been two-hundred-fifty-nine days, twelve hours, and fifty-eight minutes since she'd been able to peel herself from the floor, knees weak and body thrumming with energy that did not belong to her.
The walls above were collapsing, raining debris like tears on her cheeks.
2/
It had been two-hundred-fifty-nine days, seven hours, and twenty-one minutes since she'd had to face a victory that he would never be part of.
As she watched her friends and allies celebrate their win, she wondered if they could see in her eyes everything she'd lost.
3/
"Hush," he whispered, fingertips crawling carefully down the length of her body. Leaving scars that seared straight beneath her skin, imprinting the poetry of his touch on her bones. "Stay quiet for me, sweetheart."
Those impossibly large, warm hands curled around her thighs, gently urging her to, "Open, sweetheart, open up for me."
"Ben," she whispered, forbidden name washing far too naturally across her tongue. It tasted of lilac and sin; a decadent dessert served in Hell.
2/
One hand moved up, caressing her jaw, thumb gently tracing the shape of her lips. Rey opened her mouth, tongue darting out to taste the salt of his flesh, and Ben took the invitation for what it was.
His thumb pressed heavily into her mouth, holding her still.
3/