"Do you remember why you're here?"

She looked up at him expectantly. Did she remember? Her mind felt as though it was splitting open, all her memories and secrets pouring out for the man in front of her to sift through. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, and she wanted to fight. He was daunting, hiding his face behind that mask; but there was something in his voice that sounded oddly familiar. A distant memory she could barely recall from a past she would rather forget. Physically, he was pushing her to the brink. Her entire body ached with the trauma of his torturous use of The Force. Mentally, she had already broken down. She had lost a battle she could never have hoped to win in the first place. He had broken down a block in her mind, and now all she could do was dredge up long forgotten stories from her past.

"Ben? Ben! Where are you? You mother's been looking for you."

"If she was really looking for me, she would have found me already." Her friend answered, his nose scrunching a little in annoyance at the mention of his mother.

She sighed, sitting down next to him on the floor. Their nine-year old selves often hid down there, in the storage room – they both liked the idea of being surrounded by relics of a time that seemed so far away. Old weapons, gadgets and other assorted knickknacks teetered dangerously on the shelves around them. That is exactly how Ben liked to live – somewhat dangerously. As much as she hated to admit it, his penchant for trouble was one of the things that she liked about him so much. It made him fun to be around. Fun was hard to come by.

"What did your mother do this time?" She asked, somewhat cautiously. Whenever he was having a row with General Organa, he tended to get a little worked up.

"She doesn't want to tell me where my father is. You want to know why? Because she doesn't know where he is either. Off on another one of his adventures, she said. If he didn't tell her where he was going, that means he abandoned her. Not only her, but me as well! And when something happens to me, it happens to you, too – you hang around me so much it's almost like you're their adopted daughter." She could tell that he was trying to lighten the mood by ridiculing her, but it was not working. The one thing Ben could not stand was not knowing where his father was. It made him angry, angrier than she could ever imagine someone their age could possibly be. He had so much bitterness inside him. He tried to hide it whenever he was around her, but she knew better. She knew him better than he knew himself.

"He'll be back soon. He always comes back." She tried to comfort him, already knowing that it was futile. As much as he may have valued her opinion, his hostility always clouded his judgement.

"You know what though, Cara? One day, he probably won't."

His statement made her heart ache for her friend. She scooted closer to him, and let her head rest on his shoulder. They sat that way whenever one of them was feeling sad. This night was no different.

"Stop! Please, stop. I don't want to think about any of that. You may not have noticed, but I suppressed it for a reason."

Her quip caught him off guard, and he was silent for a few moments as he pondered how to proceed. She had information that may be important to the fate of The First Order against The Resistance, but he hesitated in probing further for the necessary evidence. Instead, he was intrigued. Intrigued by this little girl and her friend whom she would rather dismiss from her past life. Intrigued by the woman in front of him, who seemed battered with exhaustion but still had the energy to throw a retort in his face. He ignored her pleas, relishing the desperate look in her eyes, and further explored the forgotten corners of her mind.

He gripped her hand tightly as they ran around the base; he was desperate to show her some hidden treasure he had found on one of his exploratory searches. His excitement passed through her. Cara could feel his raw energy, his passion for mystery plainly visible in his eyes. He grinned at her, a grin she had not seen in a long time, and she could feel the muscles at the corner of her mouth curling upwards in response to his enthusiasm. He was back. Her Ben was back. After weeks of having locked himself away from everyone and everything, he had found her way to her again. She knew he always would. That was their promise to each other.

"Ben, slow down! Where are you taking me?" She panted, her stamina plainly not as impressive as his was.

"I can't tell you, it'll ruin the surprise!" He laughed again, clearly enjoying teasing her mercilessly through her own curiosity.

"Ben Solo, if you don't tell me where were going right now I won't follow you there." She stopped walking, hoping to beat him at his own game. He was suddenly pulled back when she ground to a halt, and he crashed straight into her, their noses touching. He was so close to her that she could feel the tremor in his body as another bout of laughter escaped him.

Surprisingly, he did not move, but stood his ground instead, sensing what she was playing at.

"You only use my last name when you're angry with me." He whispered into her ear.

"Perhaps I am angry with you." She whispered back, fighting to keep her composure.

"Why would you be angry with me?"

"Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you refuse to tell me wherever it is you're dragging me off too."

He scoffed, and pulled away from her ever so slightly. "Dragging you off too? I don't remember you ever hesitating at my trying to show you something before."

"Maybe this time it's different. Maybe I've realized I don't like surprises." She said, rather indignantly, trying to ward off his intimidating demeanor.

"You don't fool me, Cara. You never have." He said, his tone serious again.

"So you're saying that we've known each other for too long? That ten years is what it takes to get to know someone down to their very core? Maybe that's why we can't fool each other anymore. You can't believe that I don't like surprises, and I already know that you'll be upset if I don't react to your surprise the way you want me to."

"And in what way do I want you to act, exactly?" He asked, genuinely curious to know what it was she thought of him.

"You want me to act amazed, baffled by this mysterious object that you will undoubtedly present me with. You want me to search for answers with you, search for truths that you can't seem to find anywhere else; and when I don't act dumbfounded as to the origin of whatever it is you're going to show me, you will inevitably become mad at me and lock yourself in your room for a few weeks once again."

"You like historical objects." He stated as a matter of fact.

"I do. I just don't have a desperate need to search for the story behind them."

His eyes searched her face for signs of dishonesty. He found none.

"I believe you can never know someone well enough." He said.

"I hope that's true."

"He was my friend. I lost him a long time ago." She said, her voice barely a whisper.

"It is of no interest to me."

"Then why do you keep observing memories that contain him?"

His eyes regarded hers from behind the mask. Eyes so familiar to him, yet so much older than when he had last seen them.

"I am searching for information that you hold. Your mind is a catastrophe of memories and pain. Pain that eats you up from the inside. Perhaps that pain is the key to unlocking what I seek."

"I will give you nothing that will be of use to you." She said, defiance clear in her expression.

"Not immediately, no – but you will. Soon enough."