•LEGACY - A Reylo Story•

EPISODE XXI - LIVING A LIE

"What are you doing?" Rey shrieks, launching into a foreign tongue as she charges at a teedo creature that perches atop a luggabeast. "That's our ship!"

Teedo snorts and continues to ride off, away from their tiny ship and its engine, the parts of which are spilled out across the sand.

"If you didn't do it, who did?" Rey shouts. "We need-"

Ben's arm flies up. I'll make him tell us.

No, Rey snaps.

He lowers his arm. Look at you now, Snoke's voice seeps into his head. Not actually Snoke. A memory, a hallucination-Ben isn't sure which. Seduced by the enemy, just like your grandfather. All the Skywalkers. Disappointments.

No, Ben thinks, gulping. The whip marks on his back burn in the infernal heat. No, you seduced me to the Dark Side. Rey is-

He looks at her, face covered in red splotches, sweat dripping down from her temples, and he's never seen anyone he wants to be like more. Her eyes, her mind, her heart-there's so much love, so much hope, so much confidence and so much peace-he needs that.

And he loves her.

"Well," Rey pants, watching Teedo leave. "We're going to have to start over." She sniffs.

"Rey, that's okay," Ben says quickly, grasping her arms. "If you could fix this ship back on Prana's planet, I know you can fix it here. Just..." He licked his lips-they're cracked, dry. "Do we have to scavenge to survive?"

She laughs. "Well, Unkar Plutt's surely not going to buy from us. So we'll find another way. We might have to go hungry tonight, though."

"Unless we work by night and sleep by day," he suggests.

"That's not a bad idea."

That night, they sneak back to Niima Outpost, pilfering food and water. Rey works on the ship until dawn, with Ben attempting to help and mostly just getting in her way. When she finally declares herself done for the day, she presses herself into his arms, and for the first time in the light of day, she reaches to remove his shirt.

It's okay, he tells himself, focusing on the memory of Rey kissing his scar, on the fact that now he can fully see her, and she wants him because she cares, because she loves him, because she believes in him.

That afternoon, ghosts come. Not the sort he saw as Anakin Skywalker, but the kind that haunt Ben's memories, the kind he suspects not amount of Light will never exorcise.

He lies awake, Rey beside him as the sun bakes the ship, turning it into a stifling oven, making him grateful they're undressed.

But the ghosts come closer, closing in around him.

Murderer.

Ben eases himself up, careful not to disturb Rey as he staggers for the exit.

Who are you to think you can ever escape what you are? You'll turn on her eventually. Just like you've turned on everyone who ever cared about you. Your father. Luke. Your mother.

I'd rather die. He couldn't bear it if he hurt Rey again.

But that's what you do. You hurt people.

It's okay to hurt people who deserve it. He was trying to hurt you. It's okay. Ben's eight years old again, and Tygo Ren's arms are pinning him against the wall as he struggles.

I didn't mean to!

But you did. It's okay. I'll help you.

And the sand dunes turn into a flaming hut from twenty-two years ago, and Ben watches from a distance just like he had then, now curled up against the sand just like he'd curled up behind a tree, terrified that they'd know, they'd all know it was him, he was the murderer...

"Ben! Ben!"

Again, the voice of someone who cares about him, someone who doesn't know, cuts through the air. It'd taken hours of listening to Father's voice and Lor San Tekka's and Mother's before Lando finally found him behind that tree.

He's in shock, Han. Probably saw the flames and didn't know what to do.

The pain in Father's eyes-was it because, as Ben's always assumed, he thought his son simply hadn't been a hero? Or was it because, as Ben's always feared, he knew what Ben had done?

Or was it because he cared about his son?

A hand caresses his face. Not Han's. Rey's. She pulls him back, out of the memories he's drowning in. She chases away the ghosts.

"Do you know how old I was when I killed someone for the first time, Rey?" He's babbling. He doesn't know why he's telling her. But he needs to. She should know.

"Ben, what's going on?" Her gaze is so steady, so concerned. He can't stand it.

"I was eight. I didn't mean to. Snoke helped me cover it up. He sent a Knight of Ren-" he blurts out.

"Okay," Rey breathes, her hands still pressed against his face. "Okay." Her brow furrows.

"I'm evil, Rey. I've always been evil. I've been killing people since I was a child."

"How many others?"

"Just that one... until Luke's academy. But Snoke knew. He didn't choose me because I came from the Light, but because of the Dark!" He's wringing his hands. He tries to punch his side, but Rey catches his arm. "He knew what I'd become, Rey."

"You're changing though, Ben!" she insists, fighting to keep him from hitting himself. "Stop it!"

The rawness in her voice cuts through him. He drops his arms and drops his face to the sand. He hears her rise, hears her footsteps as she enters the ship again. And he hears her come back.

"Have some water," she orders.

He sits up, sand clinging to his tear-streaked face. He drinks.

"What brought this out?"

"I don't know," he mutters, head smarting. "I couldn't sleep-I kept thinking of getting to D'Qar-I'm so afraid, Rey. I'm a coward. I'm weak. I've done so few things in my life I can be proud of, and most of them took place the past-almost two months."

"It's got to be hard to realize you've been living a lie," Rey concurs.

He doesn't get it. He doesn't understand why she's even attempting to understand.

Because I love you, she snaps telepathically.

"Do you want to talk about it more?" she asks aloud.

He doesn't say anything, but she presses deeper into his mind, and it hurts slightly but he lets her in, lets her see the memories, the ghosts, that torment him, starting back when he was eight. He shows her Lor San Tekka, how he sneered at the man's gentle rebuke and slaughtered him, how he commanded all the villagers be executed. He lets her wander, seeing what she wills, seeing all of it.

And when she withdraws, she takes his hand in hers, squeezing it.

"I love you," he says, because he can't say anything else.

Now she grins, reaching out to flick his sand-encrusted hair. "I know."