Ben had been more than ready to die even when he was with Snoke. Hope was always in limited supply. He was so good at his training under Snoke because he didn’t shy away or retreat from daunting tasks. Though he didn’t actively seek death out, he did not avoid it, either, letting the chips fall where they may. He might succeed, or fail, but when the worst that could happen was just a long, permanent sleep, then there was little to fear in the galaxy. There was nothing that could truly scare him in those days.
Having people to live for was much harder. He didn’t know how to be the son Leia wanted. He didn’t know how to be the friend-maybe-more Rey was seeking. She would do better to look to Poe or Finn. His mother would be better off if he kept a distance so he couldn’t disappoint her, but oh, how much he had missed her. He wanted nothing more than to be held by her like he used to be, back when he was a child and didn’t understand that people saw Anakin when they looked at him. His arms wrapped around her in return when she embraced him on instinct. She was small in the sense of being short. He was small in all the wrong ways, the wrong ways that felt empowering, like armor. People could leave, but he could drive the Force into him, into his body and mind, no matter who walked away or who stayed. He could be a person. For a long time, that was all he’d had.
He’d had to live for himself without ever truly believing there was a self to live for. Now that he didn’t have to, he wasn’t sure what other options there were. Luke was not an option the way that happy endings were not an option; Ben fully expected his life to end in some overwrought tragedy that was typical of the Skywalker family, to either die on the battlefield in glory or be struck down and succeeded by Rey.
“Uncle Luke knew,” he muttered softly, closing his eyes. He was there, couldn’t he have sensed it in the Force, Ben’s struggle to stay in the heat while fearing the burning heat? Ben had screamed when part of the ceiling came down, terrified of what he had wrought, fighting with Snoke in his head as the man told him to save himself and Ben’s Uncle was silent in the Force, unreachable, leaving him alone... “Or I thought he did. If he ever actually told me what was going on with him, that might have helped salvage things. But he didn’t. He still doesn’t. He never will. That much, I know.”
He wanted to argue about Luke ‘caring’ about him, but his curiosity at what memory she might think could salvage the incredible mess he’d made of their lives was overpowering. Begrudgingly, he let down his mental shields, enough to let her in, not so much he couldn’t throw her out if more of his unpleasant memories popped up and he needed to keep her from being traumatized.
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Date: 2017-03-13 04:28 pm (UTC)Having people to live for was much harder. He didn’t know how to be the son Leia wanted. He didn’t know how to be the friend-maybe-more Rey was seeking. She would do better to look to Poe or Finn. His mother would be better off if he kept a distance so he couldn’t disappoint her, but oh, how much he had missed her. He wanted nothing more than to be held by her like he used to be, back when he was a child and didn’t understand that people saw Anakin when they looked at him. His arms wrapped around her in return when she embraced him on instinct. She was small in the sense of being short. He was small in all the wrong ways, the wrong ways that felt empowering, like armor. People could leave, but he could drive the Force into him, into his body and mind, no matter who walked away or who stayed. He could be a person. For a long time, that was all he’d had.
He’d had to live for himself without ever truly believing there was a self to live for. Now that he didn’t have to, he wasn’t sure what other options there were. Luke was not an option the way that happy endings were not an option; Ben fully expected his life to end in some overwrought tragedy that was typical of the Skywalker family, to either die on the battlefield in glory or be struck down and succeeded by Rey.
“Uncle Luke knew,” he muttered softly, closing his eyes. He was there, couldn’t he have sensed it in the Force, Ben’s struggle to stay in the heat while fearing the burning heat? Ben had screamed when part of the ceiling came down, terrified of what he had wrought, fighting with Snoke in his head as the man told him to save himself and Ben’s Uncle was silent in the Force, unreachable, leaving him alone... “Or I thought he did. If he ever actually told me what was going on with him, that might have helped salvage things. But he didn’t. He still doesn’t. He never will. That much, I know.”
He wanted to argue about Luke ‘caring’ about him, but his curiosity at what memory she might think could salvage the incredible mess he’d made of their lives was overpowering. Begrudgingly, he let down his mental shields, enough to let her in, not so much he couldn’t throw her out if more of his unpleasant memories popped up and he needed to keep her from being traumatized.
“Alright. Show me.”