janie_tangerine | cowt 11 sett 5 M1: I'm with you (sw, rey/ben solo, pg13) (Reply)

“I don’t know if — if I should come.”

She stops in the middle of the cave — it’s not threatening to fall down on them anymore.

Except that he stopped walking after a couple of steps and please no I can’t do this again, Rey thinks, I brought him back from death twice I can’t deal with it if he collapses again, but no, he’s not. He’s just — not coming with.

“And why shouldn’t you?” She asks, trying to not sound like she’s tired and she just wants one thing to go well and this one thing is dragging his ass back to the rebel base and clear his name and kiss him all over again the moment she’s done with that.

He flushes.

She has a feeling he felt that.

The bond, isn’t it, she thinks, smiling to herself, and —

“Because — they’ll hate me,” he blurts, “and they should, after everything. I — my mother, she’s dead, I fought you, and — you know, but they don’t. They won’t get it. And I don’t want them to hate you because — because you’re bound to me. I should just let you go.”

Too bad he sounds gutted at the idea.

Rey swallows. Then takes a step closer, and another — she can feel that this entire place isn’t going to collapse on itself for now, and —

She swallows again.

They have —

They have clashed more than once, haven’t they. They fought, haven’t they. They attacked each other in different ways throughout the time they’ve known each other, and she had thought the time for warfare between the two of them was over.

But maybe —

Maybe she needs to put into practice one last strategy, one last attack to get past the ramparts she had thought he had demolished from around himself before he finishes re-building them and convinces himself that he actually should — atone on his own or whatever other bullshit is passing through his mind right now.

She shakes her head, reaches out, holds his hands. He gasps, but he doesn’t move them back.

“Aren’t you tired?” She asks, looking up at him. He’s not quite meeting her eyes, but it takes her thinking it again through the bond for him to finally look back at her.

“Of what?” He huffs. “Because I’d have a long list of things I’m tired of.”

“Well — my point exactly,” she presses. “Aren’t you just… tired of making yourself suffer? You could have come with me more than once, before. And you never did. Even after Snoke was dead.”

He shrugs, not pulling his hands away. His fingers shake.

“It just — I never knew anything different,” he whispers, “than having him in my head and hearing that I was meant to go to the dark. And I did hope I wouldn’t have to, at some point, and then I gave up, and — it didn’t feel right. It just didn’t.”

I knew they tried to help, she hears through the bond, holding to his hands tighter, but they didn’t know how and no one is going to believe me if I tell them I decided to go against them after I saw my father again and I saw he didn’t hate me, and if it’s not enough for your friends? I can’t ask it of you. I don’t want to stare at more worn-out faces because of me. I don’t get the happy ending. I don’t.

She wishes he was just telling himself that.

Except that no, he really buys into it.

Fucking hell.

Thing is, she’s not a quitter, she hasn’t come here to take Ben Solo’s hand and then leave it behind and to give up when she’s already breached those walls once.

And she’s going to lead the assault until they fall again, but she doesn't think she’ll have to try much longer, not when he’s holding on to her fingers so fucking tight it hurts.

She shakes her head, not breaking eye contact.

I know, she thinks at him, projecting how much she wants him there with her, but I also know they will listen to me, and you deserve something good, and you might have never known anything different but you could, so why would you go off and be miserable? You don’t have to, and then she parts her lips, and —

“Maybe you were on your own until now,” she whispers, “but I’m with you and I’m not going anywhere,” she says, and she can see the moment she breaches the walls again, sees them crumble as he bites down on his lip, and when she moves on her tiptoes and reaches for his face he leans down and kisses her back, again, slow, sweet, and his hands are so large and warm and rough when they cup her face, and his tongue then slips inside her mouth and now she feels like he is attacking her, with how that kiss is making her knees tremble and her legs buckle, and oh but she wants to prove him that he’s not making a mistake and that they can be happy and that he doesn’t have to suffer while he atones for his mistakes, not that he hasn’t paid for them already.

“You — you are? With me. I mean,” he blurts, still clutching at her so very tightly, his arms moving to her waist, and he sounds so unsure now, she wants to say unlike before, but no. He never sounded sure of anything, when he was in the First Order. She knew since the moment she read his mind first.

“Yes,” she nods. “Again,” she whispers, knowing she’s breached the walls and she’s walking through them and she’s not leaving, “I did tell you I wanted to take Ben Solo’s hand. I did. I don’t particularly want to let it go. I’ve been tired of being let down my entire life and I don’t want to let you down, too.”

“You wouldn’t, I’m afraid that I would.”

“You couldn’t,” Rey says, “you’re here, aren’t you? And you saved my life and you did the right thing over and over. I really don’t think it’s going to happen. Not at all.”

“You might be the only one who’s ever believed it,” he shrugs, and then bites down on his lip. “Well. You and -- and —”

“Your father? Well, he did seem like a smart guy, when I met him. And if he forgave you, I think that you can feel free to move on with your life.”

“Maybe,” he admits, and it sounds very much like a yes, and —

“So,” she asks, her hand reaching down for his, “you coming? I’m with you, remember?”

His fingers grasp hers as he nods once, twice, and then yes, she hears in her mind as they start walking away, and then —

I’m with you, too, he says but doesn’t speak.

And there’s only one thing she can tell him to that — she breathes and looks back at him and thinks —

I know.