The Art of Broken Pieces

Spoon Starts a Cult

Rey had been back to the medical facility that morning for an examination, and was satisfied to hear that the microscopic biotech droids had done their job, and her "apex and LAD" were fully reconstructed, which she assumed meant her heart would be fine. After that announcement, they pumped more blood into her arteries and sent her back to the little apartment where Ben was undoubtedly still pacing like a rancor in a pit.

The trial was tomorrow. This knowledge was like a looming shadow, ready to swallow up all light, and brought with it the whole night-world worth of fears and unknowns. She felt nauseated just thinking about it, and no matter how she tried to meditate, she couldn't slip back into that white-walled place inside herself, where the Force and its vastness could be her comfort.

Right now, what she wanted to do was hold onto Ben and keep him safe.

The constant suppressed anxiety that Rey was trying to hold back from him left Ben on edge, and as each hour passed he struggled harder to keep back the dark mood that threatened. It was hard to keep his promises to her, to stay, to let things happen as they would. Every instinct screamed at him to fight, to work free of the enemy territory that he had allowed himself to be placed in. He tried to remain optimistic around her, to soothe the worry from Rey's dark eyes, but it was becoming harder with each passing moment. She still had hope... but he had few doubts as to how the following day would end.

And in the dark of night, surrounded by ghosts of his own making, he could not fault them for it.

He felt her returning and rose to meet her. With each day she seemed healthier again, cheeks brighter, movements easy and free of pain. It was good to see, to know that she would be alright.

Rey wanted a distraction. At the same time, she wanted to hang onto every second, observe its passing as if she might spot the very instant she could do something-anything at all-to make a difference. Everyone had been busy today. Busy and quiet. The most common sound at her lunch with Finn and Rose had been the coos of baby Paige, and the sound of forks scraping plates without much gusto.

Finn hadn't quite been able to look at her. As a former stormtrooper, he had his own testimony to give, and she didn't think it was going to paint the former Supreme Leader in a sympathetic light.

Poe would be fair enough to include the reports of Ben's self-assumed work cleaning up the remnants of the First Order. She knew he would. But he would also likely include the information he'd gleaned during his time being tortured as a prisoner at the hands of Kylo Ren.

It would be hard to watch her friends deliver their testimonies against him. Harder still was the fact that she had to agree. Kylo Ren-Ben-had done despicable things. She should hate him. She should want him to suffer and pay for his crimes.

Rey walked into the apartment, saw him standing there, tall and dark. Maybe it was just experience that made him look so warm. She didn't hate him, even if she should. And he'd suffer the rest of his life for all the things he did, without help from the Alliance.

The threat of execution hung over them both. His punishment would be up to discussion and vote, and even with Poe's and Finn's votes likely pushing for leniency --for her sake, if not Ben's--there was no guarantee he'd come out alive.

Ben wound his arms around her, closing his eyes as he tilted his face down into the soft brown waves of her hair. A tumult of emotions was tumbling through her, chaotic, unsure. Many of them mirrored his own.

Less than a year had passed since she had found him, broken and angry among the stars. As he was then, walking the line between control and madness, he never would have even considered being in this position, being judged by old enemies. But time--and Rey--had changed everything.

He held her quietly, the two of them standing there in their fears, no words necessary between them. Ben believed he could handle most of what he would hear tomorrow, the accusations and the brutal truths... but there were things that still hurt too deeply to face. Things that he knew would shake his resolve. Thoughts of Luke still brought back the old familiar anger, the need to rage at his betrayal. And Han... Ben shuddered, shoving the thought aside. There was still a box for that memory, one that he was not ready to open.