Star Wars: A dyad in the Force 「A Reylo FanFiction」

Act 33: Under the care of a Friend

She's got a smile that it seems to me

Reminds me of childhood memories

Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky

Now and then when I see her face

She takes me away to that special place

And if I stare too long, I'd probably break down and cry...

Ajan Kloss, 36 ABY

Pain. Why would it really matter? He could tolerate pain. He did it before in all his life. What had changed now? His aching body and stiff muscles obeyed his roughness. Only his state of mind was in chaos—a mess. Something was bothering him. Something felt so wrong, so invalid, but Ben could not name it. He chose to fail to pinpoint the cause of this unexplained pain. He reasoned his wheeling mind, which caused this unbearable burning in his heart.

He stepped away from his father's gifts; he would use them tomorrow in their mission. But today, he could not touch them; he didn't permit himself to lay a finger on his those belongings. 'Fool' he cursed himself once more for believing blinding Snoke, for killing his own father to prove to Snoke what? That he was the perfect puppet that the Emperor needed.

Ben raised his arm and placed his hand on his chest. He could still feel the frigid cold surrounding his heart. Though, it was like the beating was no more. It's said that strength can be found in the simplicity of the heartbeat. But it took more than a heartbeat and his strength. When he realized his strength diverged, he was left in a twit of pique. Weariness could never affright him. Yet, he could not even walk towards the bed. His mind gave the commands, but his body refused to listen. 'Failure!' he named himself. 'It's only a small leap, nothing more. Few steps and you can sit.' His mind wheeled. His eyes lost; he was there, though his mind was not.

It had been years since he had taken his father's life, but his memory was so vivid. He never forgot what he had done to Han Solo, but at least the memory was gone. But it picked today to spring in his mind. Today when the Wookiee brought his father's gift. Today started the new torture inside him. 'Fair enough!' Ben accepted the challenge once more as he had finally reached the bed.

The pain that once burned like an aggressive fire had faded away to an icy numbness. Black filled the edges of his vision, and the only thing he could hear was his own broken heartbeat. He closed his eyes; the memory streamed alive before him. His breath came in ragged, shallow gasps. Seconds passed as he lay there, and then, he heard voices—his father's voice and again the same memory of Ben killing him. And still, after his unforgiven deed, people swarmed all over him, trying to help him; he didn't understand them.

They wanted to save him. If he could have, he would have laughed. It was far too late for him to be saved, yet they were like children, naive to the darkness of the real world. The despair and suffering of the world Ben had known had not reached everyone as it had found him. Honestly, after Exegol, he believed he would join his father soon. In that way, he would be able to leave all the pain behind. He sealed his eyes strongly now, his fragile, human heartbeat one last time.

A second later, it beat again. Of course, dying would not come that easy. He knew that. After what he had done, who would grant him such an effortless escape from all the pain? He should remain alive, every day suffering in his own wrongdoings and the night relive them.

His eyesight blurred because tears were welling up. Everything became fuzzy; then he saw nothing at all. His consciousness was floating through a space filled with a thick static. Throughout the inky space, his heartbeats pounded loudly, echoing in his ears, alongside fading pleas for help. He almost felt his body drained away until the memory started replying again.