Force Destiny

Trapped

Ben felt trapped. At least, he thought his name was Ben. That was what they told him, anyway, though the name seemed foreign on even their tongues. But they had told him little else, and he could remember even less. All he knew was he felt drawn to the woman kneeling in front of him, but he didn't know why.

She had shouted his name and something deep within him screamed in desperation to find her, something told him she was what he had been searching for since he awoke. It wasn't a memory, per se, but an echo of what once had been, like the imprint of a foot in wet sand. She whispered his name with reverence and lamented how much she had missed him, as if he had been gone for a long time. The way she looked at him...it was as if she intimately knew his soul.

But he didn't even know her name. And he could see it in her eyes: he was hurting her, and there was nothing he could do to help her. Based on the way she tried to touch him, they had been close. It was clear she expected him to be the man she knew, but he didn't know who that was. A brother? A cousin? A friend? A partner? A lover? A spouse? He had no idea what he was to her. Not that it mattered; he couldn't be that man even if he wanted to. She was a stranger to him. He was a stranger to himself.

Who did I used to be? What did I do? What happened to me? Why can't I remember? Do I want to remember?

He was frustrated that, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember a thing. He was angry that no one would give him any answers. But they told him enough in what they didn't say, the way they stared at him as if he were...a monster.

They didn't trust him. The one in charge was conflicted. There were moments the man hated Ben; he could see it in his eyes, the way his lip curled when he talked to him. But other moments he stared with sympathy and pity. That vexed Ben more than the hatred. He was fond of the kind one; he didn't fear him, but he didn't placate him either. He felt a particular camaraderie with that one—the one who presently stood behind the woman, begging her to listen.

Ben wished she would listen. She stared at him as if he had created the stars. It made him uncomfortable. He couldn't stand to look at the devotion in her familiar eyes and not remember a minute that had earned such an emotion. This woman...this woman was talking to him as if he were a child or an injured animal, feigning patience and understanding as her eyes shimmered in heartbreak. The more time he spent with her, the more frustrated he became. He had been ignoring what she was saying to him, but she reached for his face again, and he panicked.

What do you want from me!? I don't know you!

"Don't touch me!"

He hadn't meant to sound so cruel, but he was feeling more and more claustrophobic in his own skin. The woman curled in upon herself, wrapping her arms around her knees. Betrayal streamed from her eyes. He refused to look at her again. His anxious heart pounded in his ears, his chest heaving with desperation. Was he even where he was supposed to be? If they didn't trust him, should he trust them? He could be anyone. They could be anyone. They could be the enemy, the reason why he had lost his memories. They could be feeding him lies. If no one would tell him the truth, then they must be hiding something. The man handed the woman a pack, and she withdrew several items. She sobbed as she held each one before clipping them to her belt.

The woman threw herself into the kind man's arms, and Ben was thankful she was distracted with someone else, but his name—what they told him his name was—caught his attention. "Ben just needs time. I got my memories back, so will he," she assured them both. The man had pulled her into the nearest room, and they were speaking in hushed tones, but he heard their conversation, nonetheless.

"It's not that simple, Rey..."

Rey. Somehow he knew that was her name.

"...He woke up before you. Poe and I were there. We didn't know how he would react, so we decided to be there instead of Rose. She was right when she told me she could handle him better; I should have listened. Or waited for you. But we were scared you wouldn't make it. We had no idea what he would do when he found out you risked your life for him..."