Make Yourselves Useful

The stone floor rushed up to meet her, but she was too tired to fight it.  Too...nearly dead to fight it. Dazed, she looked around for Ben.  She had been vaguely aware of him flying off in another direction, away from her.  Suddenly all she wanted was to see him alive.  It didn't matter if she was barely holding on, if she couldn't muster the strength to sit up.  She just needed him to be alright.

She saw him, on his knees and elbows, dragging himself in her direction.  She breathed a sigh of relief. They had won, but the thought was merely an echo in the distance. She couldn't comprehend the world beyond Ben right now.  It was just him and her.

Finally he reached her.  He reached out his hand, and she took it firmly, like a lifeline.  The contact told him what she had been trying to ignore: she was almost gone. She wanted to say something to him.  Something wise and comforting. Something that would linger after she left him.  But no words came. It all seemed like too much.  All except one word.

“Ben.”

“Shhhh,” he whispered.  “Just rest.”  He adjusted his grip on her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers.  Lowering himself down next to her, she was able to get a better view of his face.  Still bloodied, definitely exhausted, but at peace.  And absolutely beautiful.

Something glowed to life within her. She realized it was coming from their hands.  More specifically, from Ben's hand to hers.  The life was returning to her, but with it came fear.

“Don't,” she said, tears threatening to overflow.

“It's okay,” he said.  “There's enough for both of us.”

The Force did it's work, and she took a deep breath.  She was still wounded and worn, but she was definitely alive.  She sat up and looked over at Ben.  His eyes were closed, and he looked a little too serene.

“Ben!” she shouted, shaking his shoulder.

And then she saw it.  The toothy, most beautiful smile she'd ever seen.  A raspy sound quietly rose from him. Was that...laughter?

“I just saved your life, sweetheart,” he said, “What else do you want?”

A jolt of electricity shot through her.  He had just been joking, but his expression was as serious as hers.

“One more thing,” she said.  And before she lost her nerve she leaned down and captured his lips with her own.

She didn't have to wait long for his reaction.  He slipped his arms around her, answering her kiss with equal hunger and reverence.  When they pulled apart slightly, she was graced with another of his beautiful smiles.  Then, with a rakish gleam in his eye, he flipped them over, his injuries seemingly forgotten.  He smiled down at her.

Her new vantage point gave her a view of the ships still above them, and she sobered up a little.  Ben caught her train of thought.  Gently, he helped her sit up.

Where did they go from here? More specifically, where did Ben go from here?  She knew he was a changed man, but she also knew there was a trail of destruction in the wake of Kylo Ren.  

“I'll face them,” he said, as if reading her thoughts.  “I'll face whatever comes next.”

She reached up and caressed his face. He closed his eyes as if to savor the touch.

Rey wished they could just stay like this forever, but after a few moments, Ben got up and held out his hand for her.  The bond was a comforting connection between them as their hands met again.  Rey would never tired of the sensation.  She started to walk forward, but stopped abruptly.

The throne.  The same one from her visions.  In them, it had been her and Ben claiming it.  As Kylo Ren and the darkest version of herself.  She wondered if that had been from her grandfather.  Meant to intimidate or entice her, she wasn't sure.  

“Did you have the vision, too?” Ben asked quietly.

“Yes,” she said, and shuddered.  

“Well, that won't do,” he said, scooping her into his arms.

“I can walk -”

“I know,” he said, but made no move to put her down.  Instead he carried her toward the throne.

“You know I carried you like this that first time, the day we met,” he said.

“I wish I could remember that part,” she said.  

“I'm kind of glad you can't,” he said.  “There's a lot a wish you hadn't seen.”

She reached up to move some of his hair from his eyes.  

“I'm not afraid of who you were.”

He pressed his lips into a grim line. She kissed his cheek, just to see him smile again.

They reached the throne, and Ben sat down, setting Rey beside him.  She turned so her back was to one arm of the chair, her legs draped over Ben's.  He wrapped his arms around her tightly.

“See?” he said into her hair, “It's not that scary.”

“Not with you here,” she said.

“I'll try to stay with you,” he said.  “Always. But I-”

“We'll make it work,” she said, leaning back to look at him.  “We'll make them see reason.”

“After everything-”

“Yes, after everything, including charging headfirst into Exegol to save me and defeat the emperor. That has to count for something.  I say its at least time served.”

He smiled a little, but she could tell he was still uneasy.

“Hey, she said, making sure to catch his gaze again.  “Kylo Ren died on Endor, didn't he?”

“Yes,” he said, “You killed him.”

“I'm so sorry about wounding you, I-”

“It wasn't that.  It was what you said after, about wanting to take my hand.  I finally realized that you wanted to be with me – just me, not the force user, or the supreme leader, just me.  That I was worth that.”

The tears were falling for real this time.  First Rey, then Ben's eyes misted over a little when he saw her tears.

Shouting could be heard in the distance.  It seemed her rescue party had arrived.  Little did they know that role had already been filled.  Ben turned worried eyes her way.

The phone buzzed just as he approached her quarters.  No words, no assurance it was fine to stop by.  Just numbers.  Four digits.  The code to her room.

Interesting.  It was the Watchpoint equivalent of making him a spare key.  They hadn't spoken much about their relationship since it began.  They both knew that they needed to take things extremely slow.  They hadn't even been on a real date yet.  But they knew there was something special between them. Something fragile and beautiful that neither of them wanted to ruin. So the door code was...odd.

It wasn't until the door unlatched that he realized he hadn't fully expected it to work – surely those numbers were a mistype, or they meant something else entirely.  But the door softly whooshed open, revealing the dim room beyond.

His eyes went directly to the bed, but as he adjusted to the light, he realized she was not there.  Just rumpled blankets and pillows.

Adrenaline kicked in.  “Amelie?” he called, quickly shifting into fight mode.  Who would have -

“...Hanzo?” came the weak reply.

He rushed to where she lay on the floor.

“Amelie,” he said her name urgently, willing this all to be a bad dream.  “What happened?”

“I...” she said, struggling.  “I wanted some water.”

What?  He looked to the counter, then around on the floor.  He saw the glass, resting upright on the floor, half full.  Not spilled.  As if it was carefully set down...

“I couldn't make it back,” she whispered.  He followed her eyes to the bed.

Hanzo snapped into action, gathering her in his arms.  He began to carry her to the door.

“Where...?” she asked weakly.

“To Medical.  You're having a bad reaction to your treatment.”

“No.”

Hanzo stopped at the force of her tone. It was the most like her she had sounded since he arrived.  

“This...this is normal.”  She squeezed her eyes shut.  

Hanzo couldn't move.  She had been suffering like this every time, and he hadn't had a clue.  “Why didn't you tell me?” The words were out before he could check them.

“I...burden...” she pressed her head to his chest, too tired to go on.

He moved towards the bed and slowly lowered her onto the mattress.  He touched the side of her face to get her attention.  When her yellow eyes were on him, he started again.  

“You are not, nor will you ever be, a burden.”

She placed a hand over his.  The faintest smile tried to peek through.  He retrieved the glass of water and brought it to her, placing it on the side table while he helped her sit up.  She took a long drink.  How had she survived the other days without help?  Some reasonable part of his brain, part that suspiciously had Zenyatta's voice, told him it wasn't his fault for not knowing her struggle before.  He wasn't sure about that, but he agreed with the next thought wholeheartedly.  Now that he knew, she would not have to face this alone.

“Are you hungry?”

“A little,” she said, nodding slightly.

He stood up.  “Will you be okay while I go to the mess hall to get us food?”

“Hanzo, you don't have to-”

“I know.  I want to, I-”

“You aren't...you aren't honor bound to me.”she said.  

He sat down on the edge of the bed slowly, gauging his next words.

“What if I want to be?”  It was like exposing a raw nerve.  But he wanted to.  He didn't want to be the oblivious person he was a few minutes ago, separate from Amelie's inner world and struggles.

She squeezed his hand, and he thought he detected some moisture in her lovely eyes.  It was all the answer he needed.  He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Rest now.  I'll be back soon.”