He felt foolish for what he planned to do next, but at the same time it felt like something he had to do, without Rey. He wasn't sure if she would understand. Chalmun's Cantina was where his father, uncle, Chewie, and Obi-Wan Kenobi, the great Jedi master of his namesake, first met. Even after the fall of the Galactic Empire, it was still a place his father and Chewie visited often when they wanted to get away from everyday life. Ben had been to Mos Eisley plenty of times but had never been allowed in the cantina. This is where it all started.

As he entered, it looked similar to how he had imagined it. A small band was playing music in a barely lit corner while seedy looking patrons were going about their less than legal businesses. The tables and booths were old and grungy. Cleanliness was clearly not something the cantina took pride in, but there was no surprise there. He wondered which booth his predecessors first met, or if it was even still here.

Ben took a seat at the bar. The droid who was the acting bartender approached him.

"What will it be, sir?"

"Do you have any recollections of orders from past patrons?"

"Of course. I keep records of everything. Which patron would you like me to look up, sir?"

"Han Solo."

"Ah yes. He was a regular here. His most common order was a Tatooni Junko, though Solo preferred it to be quite a bit stronger than the original recipe. Would you like that, sir?"

"Yes."

"Right away, sir." He couldn't explain it, but trying one of his father's beloved drinks made him feel like he was making an effort to get to know him better, in a sort of strange and twisted way. Alcohol had never been something that interested him, but he wanted to give it a chance and see why his father liked it.

"Did you say 'Han Solo'?" said a rough voice from behind him. Ben turned to see an annoyed looking Caarite, his arms folded, his snout scrunched in, his attire matching the shabby environment of the cantina perfectly.

"I did."

"Solo owes me money. Where is he?"

"He's dead."

"Dead," the Carrite scoffed. "How convenient. He is not dead. He just doesn't want to pay what he is due because he's a no good rotten swindler."

Ben turned his attention back towards the bar. "I won't argue with you there, but I know he's dead. I saw him die."

"Oh? You saw him die? Then how did he die, prey tell?"

"I killed him with my lightsaber." Before the Carrite could respond, another patron intervened.

"I heard Han Solo was killed by his son, Kylo Ren."

"That would be me."

"But Kylo Ren is dead, isn't he?"

Ben's only response was to casually hold up the helmet. Neither patron had a verbal retort. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to be left alone." He could hear the Caarite and the other patron shuffle away quietly as the droid placed the drink in front of Ben.

"Here you go, sir." Ben promptly put the credits down on the sticky counter and then took a sip from the mug. Ug! It tasted terrible! How did his father drink this stuff?

"Not to your liking, sir?"

"No, it's fine. Just an… acquired taste." Ben took another sip, larger than the first. He could feel it burning down his throat. Surely this was not something people drank purely for the taste; it was so vile! And the after taste wasn't much better.

However, he wasn't going to give up. He wasn't going to leave until the mug had been properly emptied.

About a quarter of the way through his drink, he started to notice its affects. The noise of the cantina became a distant chatter, as if someone turned down the sound. A few more sips and he began to feel light-headed. And happy. It had been so long since he truly felt happy. But was this true happiness? Maybe this is why his father loved this drink. Did that mean Ben made him unhappy? Or his mom?

He took another sip.

Nah, he probably just drank this because it made him feel good. Like it made Ben feel good. He had been worrying about something… what was it again?

It probably didn't matter. He took another sip.

Who cares if something was bothering him before. All that mattered right now was he felt happy. He heard a loud noise of something falling on the floor. Was it him? No, he was still sitting on the booth at the bar. At least he thought he was. He wasn't quite sure of anything anymore.

Over halfway through.

Was someone calling his name? Was Rey here?

No, no one was calling for him. He took another sip.

"Ben?" No, that was definitely someone calling his name. But it was a male voice, so it wasn't Rey. There was something about the voice he didn't like.

"You ok there?" No. He wasn't ok. He was fine until this person showed up. Go away!

"You don't look so good. I think you've had enough."

"No!" Ben snapped, as he pulled his arm away from the voice who had tried to grab at him. He downed the rest of the beverage.

"Uh… does Rey know you're here?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Where is she?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" the voice scoffed. "Or is it you just can't think straight because you're drunk?"

"The thinking part." The voice gave an exasperated sigh.

"I'm not unfamiliar with my friends drinking too much, not that I'd consider you a friend, but I can at least help you out. Come on, we need to get you some fresh air."

"Let me finish my drink!"

"You already did, Ben." The voice helped Ben get to his feet.

"What's that?" asked the voice, as he bent over towards the floor. Ben could feel his legs wobble. "Woah, there, keep it steady!" The voice grabbed his shoulder and helped him walk towards the door.

"I don't like your voice."

"The feeling is mutual, trust me. Come on, easy does it." As they stepped outside, Ben could feel the combination of the sunlight and the alcohol in his stomach mixing into an unpleasant sensation. He pushed himself away from the voice and moved only a few feet away before he heaved on the ground.

The voice sighed again. "Great, but I was expecting that. You're not much of a drinker, are you?"

"No," gasped Ben, as he tried to catch his breath.

"Why did you get something so strong then?"

"My dad."

"Han Solo?"

"Yeah, him. It was his drink. I wanted to try it. I miss him."

"Hate to tell you this, but if you miss him than you probably shouldn't have killed him. You ok there to walk again?"

"Yeah." Ben stumbled towards the voice as he put his arm around him again. "I can still miss him, even if I killed him. I wish I didn't."

"Yeah, well, there are a lot of people I wish you didn't kill, but that's not going to bring them back to life now, is it?"

"I've killed others?"

The voice gave a sad groan, "You are so drunk."

The two headed through the port. Ben didn't know where they were going. He saw blobs of colors bouncing about in a way that made him feel ill again. He found staring at the ground or closing his eyes kept the nausea at bay.

When they got to the outskirts of Mos Eisley, the voice helped him sit on the ground.

"I'm going to get some water. Sit up and stay there. I'll be right back. Oh," he dropped something by Ben's feet. "I believe this is yours." As the owner of the voice left, Ben picked up the item he had dropped. His helmet. No, Kylo Ren's helmet. Why did he have this again?

"Drink this," said the voice, as he returned with a couple of buckets of water. Ben drank through one of the buckets, splashing water everywhere. "You are such a mess."

"How long will I be like this?"

"I don't know."

"How long will you be you?"

"Just keep drinking the water."

"Poe? Ben?" asked a concerned female voice. It was familiar.

"Oh good, Rey, you're here. You can have this back now." He left the voice give him a little shove.

Rey leaned over Ben.

"What happened to him?"

"He got himself drunk at the cantina. Something about getting his father's drink."

"Han Solo came here?"

"Of course. This is where Han, Luke, Chewbacca, and Obi-Wan Kenobi first met. You didn't know that?"

"No, I didn't. I mean, I knew this is where Luke grew up, but I didn't know much more than that. It's starting to make sense now."

"Rey, is that you?" asked Ben, as he reached out a hand and gently touched her face.

"Yeah, it's me."

"Good. Rey, why are you so nice to me?"

"I guess because I could see the good in you, and I believed you could turn. And you did. I really wished you would have told me this is what you were going to do."

"I'm sorry, but I had to do this."

"I don't quite understand, but you can explain more when you are sober." Rey lifted up the other bucket of water towards him, but Ben pushed it away. He felt full. His stomach could take no more. "You need to drink more water."

"No."

"Ben, please…"

"Rey?"

"Yes?"

"I love you." Then Ben passed out.