To Be So Lonely // Ben Solo

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Ben remained on the wreckage of the Death Star for a long time, too long, perhaps. He wasn't keeping track of the time. He sat there and thought about every different decision he could have been making in the last six years to prevent what had happened. He thought about Han, his mother, the innocents he killed, Rey, Cyra.

He thought most of Cyra and how senseless her death was. How meaningless. She spent a year of her life with him, trying to turn him back, trying to love him and work through the complications that kept them from letting go, and she died within seconds. There was no goodbye, no appreciation for her relentless aid, no last time to tell her that he loved her more than life itself. He thought about how simple it could have been to just leave with her. Leave the war to other people and leave, be selfish, and live a life with her.

Cyra would be kicking his ass if she knew he didn't immediately go with Rey. It was what she fought for until her death, yet even now, he could barely see the point. He didn't want to be alive. He didn't want Rey to save him. He wanted to be dead for the sole fact that he would be away from the life he created for himself and could just be with her.

But it seemed he was not yet done. Rey saved him because Leia and Cyra believed in him. Believed in him to do something good, he assumed, but where to start, he didn't know. The Resistance would never allow him in their ranks now that his mother was dead, no matter how much authority Rey had. He could not admit to the Order his time as Supreme Leader was over without having a bounty on his head.

And Rey, though she did not say it, wanted him alongside her when she inevitably faced Palpatine. They both doubted themselves to defeat him, but together, the Dyad could do it. They both knew it. Rey was going with or without him, but Ben didn't know if he could return to the spot he watched his lover die. Not even to save the galaxy.

Ben let out a soft cry, a wail, angered by the circumstances he found himself in yet again. "Why are you not here?" he asked, hopelessly, to the sky. "Why can't you just show up and lead me to what I'm supposed to do?"

"Well," came a gruff voice. Ben's head snapped to see his father, dressed the same way he saw him that day on the bridge, the same as how he appeared in every dream of his. Han shrugged his shoulders, his hands following suit. "I'm not Cyra, but... Hey kid. I miss you, son."

Ben spoke before he could think. "Your son is dead," he said, and he barely recognized his voice. It sounded robotic now, as he had denied the same in every dream he had that played exactly like how he was seeing now.

Han shook his head. "No. Kylo Ren is dead. My son is alive."

"You're just a memory," grumbled Ben.

"Your memory," said Han. "Come home."

"It's too late. She's gone. Everyone is," said Ben flatly.

"Your mother's gone, but what she stood for, what she fought for, it's not gone, Ben," insisted Han.

Ben pushed himself to his feet. He stared at his father, how his face offered a small, genuine smile at seeing his son. He wanted nothing more than to be held by him, just one more time, like he was a child again. His eyes started to well, thinking again about how wrongly he had treated his father, how cold their relationship got, and how useless it was. How he wished he could change everything, just like Han did.

Maybe it wasn't Cyra he needed to push him along, but his father. At last, Han Solo broke through to his son, to his heart, on the same level his mother and his love did, and it was finally, unequivocally true-- Ben Solo lived again.

"I know what I have to do, but I don't know if I have the strength to do it," whispered Ben. He clenched his hands as they started to tremble, haunted by the actions he took to murder his father. He pushed past it. Now, the words meant something entirely different to him, and Han caught on immediately.

Han's hand reached out, just like it always did, but this time, Ben accepted his father's hand as it touched his face. "You do," whispered Han, a smile crossing his features.

"Dad," mumbled Ben, trying to say it, before it was too late, before he crossed into the other plane of existence, where he knew his father could not reach.

"I know," smiled Han, smirking softly. He drew his hand away and he disappeared, but this time, Ben accepted it.

The lightsaber in his hand felt suddenly heavy. He barely cast it another glance. He threw it, as hard as he could, and didn't even stay long enough to watch it fall into the crashing waves. He ran back towards the Death Star, hoping beyond belief he could wire up one of the old TIE Fighters to transport him to Exegol.

It didn't matter that Cyra died there, or that he was facing his certain death. There was one person left in his life that he cared about that he could not let down any longer. Rey deserved him there, Ben, to stand alongside her and help her save the galaxy. And he was finally going to be that person.

Ben didn't know what to expect. He could do little to nothing anymore, except help Rey, but he was going to do what he could. What he knew was right. After years of fighting against her, it was time to fight with her, while it mattered. He wasn't sure where this path would lead, but if it was alongside Rey, something told him it was the right one.