A New Force

Chapter XIV: The Prophecy

Ben awoke to a jolt, all his senses careening out of unconsciousness to register the firm grip around his arm.  Instinctively, he rose his hand to an invisible grip on the culprit's windpipe before he could even blink away the sleep in his eyes.  It was dawn.  The crisp morning air bit at his tired skin as Ben's vision finally cleared. 

Wide brown eyes met his own, as Poe Dameron struggled for air.

"Don't do that," Ben growled, releasing the Force-grip on his friend and swiftly rising to his feet.  

"What, how are you used to waking up?" The man rubbed his neck with an annoyed expression, his voice barely above a whisper, "Did you have servants sing you awake on the Finalizer?"

Ben cast a flat glance at Poe as he observed the sleeping crew around him.  It was amusing to the Solo boy that so many believed Kylo Ren lived in the lap of luxury.  Hard cots, bloody missions, midnight assassination attempts and dark side nightmares were all daily occurrences in his previous life.  Even when he was under the tutelage of Luke Skywalker, his inevitable future as the monster of the galaxy plagued and taunted him every night.  Truly, he had never really known rest his entire life until it ended.

"Reflex," He muttered, untensing his fists and noting how different - maybe even unlikeable - they felt without thick leather gloves.  This would be the most of an apology Poe Dameron would receive for his careless wake-up call.

"I'm sure they'll wake up soon," Poe went on as though nothing had happened, "But I just need a few hours sleep.  Can you take watch for me?"

Ben rose a single brow, "You would have me watch over your dear friend and colleague?"

"I mean, you are the most equipped if something happens," He shrugged, sheepishly scratching the back of his head.  This was the closest Poe would come to admitting that he was beginning to trust Ben Solo.  "Listen, I'm about to pass out.  Can you just...?"  

"Of course," Ben smirked, brushing past his muttering crewmate and gracefully ascending the Falcon.  It still irked him slightly to be inside the ship, a place he felt eerily close to the father that he never really knew.  As a young boy, he even began to resent it, and the crew that fought within its walls.  He was born to be alone, Leia's frustrated voice echoed in his ears, as he passed the corner where she held the young boy after discovering his parents had broken up.  

There had always been an undeniable connection between him and his mother, whether that can be attributed to their strong bloodline or the way she was always his fierce protector.  I know what I have to do, but I don't know if I have the strength to do it, Ben squeezed his eyes shut as the memory almost overcame him.  It was the first time that Han Solo had decided to fight for his boy, and he was thanked with a swift death.

Ben's fist met the wall, leaving an impressive print in the durasteel hallway.  His chest heaved, as his brain was wracked yet again with the hundreds of memories that haunted the Falcon.  "Let go," His mother's voice sounded eerily close, "Isn't that what you said?"

He felt her before his eyes fell on Leia Organa's Force-ghost.  "I can't," Ben replied, turning to face her, "It haunts me.  Every moment of every day.  I shouldn't even be alive."

Leia's expression became stony, "You're alive because you have a purpose.  Han knew the sacrifice he was making."

"He thought he was getting his son back."

"Maybe I did, for a moment," Leia smiled knowingly, as she always did, "But there's something to be said about a father's intuition." 

Frustrated, Ben ran his hands through his hair and suffocated his growing urge to yell. "Why would he have come to me, knowing he might die?"