A/N: I do not own Star Wars. I am merely playing with some of the characters.

Upon a viewing of The Force Awakens, this popped into my head. No idea why, only knew I needed to get it out. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter One

"So explain to me again exactly why you need me?"

Ben Solo rolled his eyes as he met his mother's hard gaze through the mirror. He winced as his fingers twitched yet again as he tried to finish tying the plain black tie his father had reluctantly given him. The loose floorboard near the door squeaked as Leia took a step in his direction, but a quick glare from Ben stopped her in her tracks.

"I've gone over this already. Your recent…activities have cast you in a negative light. You need to show the world that your past indiscretions are not who you are."

"Or you need to showcase me in a good light so your constituents can see you didn't completely fail as a mother."

He finished his work on the tie, glared at his reflection one final time, then turned to his mother who, he noticed sourly, had not bothered to correct him. She crossed her arms, looking as tired as he'd ever seen her, though he knew that would change the moment they both stepped outside. Her graying hair was pulled back in her signature bun and her light pink pantsuit gave the impression that she was fashionable while maintaining the professionalism her job as senator required. As such, she'd forced him to appear equally professional in a suit and tie despite the fact that volunteering at the homeless shelter did not require it.

Ben had every intention of brushing silently past her, but her hand on his arm stopped him. It felt like knives stabbing into his skin.

"Someday you'll be grateful for this. You'll never get a job with a criminal record, even with my recommendations and the family name." She reached up to place her hands on either side of his face, and for the first time that day he looked into her eyes. He hated the fact that those eyes still brought him comfort and reassurance despite the fact that he was twenty-seven years old. "I'm doing this because I love you. There's no other reason."

Ben shrugged out of her grasp, not quite ready to forgive her. "I'm not a kid anymore, Mother. I don't need you to protect me anymore."

As he walked out of the room he heard his mother's hardened voice behind him, sounding as cold as he'd ever heard it while directed at him. "Then stop acting like a child. Prove to me you can take care of yourself and stay out of trouble."

Despite his declaration that he was no longer a child, Ben certainly felt like one as he slammed the front door shut behind him.

The shelter on the corner of town smelled like urine and stale air. One whiff was all it took to make Ben regret not putting up more of a fight when his mother told him how he'd be spending his day. He didn't bother hiding his disgust as one of his mother's bodyguards opened the door of the black car that had shuttled him to this dump. He straightened his suit, feeling immensely out of place, and waited for Leia to emerge.

Part of him hoped she would take one look at the rubble that passed for a shelter and change her mind, but he knew her too well for that. The worse off a place appeared, the stronger her desire to help grew. Ben would be lucky if this was his only visit.

"Come, Ben. The sooner we start, the sooner it's over."

Ben grit his teeth to refrain from replying, and silently followed his mother and her bodyguards into the shelter.

The middle-aged woman at the front desk looked from her pile of papers and beamed at them as they approached. "Madam Senator! This is such an honor!"

Leia dutifully held out her right hand and shook the woman's hand, immediately donning her politician persona. It was all Ben could do not to roll his eyes. He was spared the chance of having to when the woman turned her attention to him.

"And you must be Ben. I've heard so much about you."

Ben narrowed his eyes, ready to snap at her. All you need to do is turn on a fucking TV and you'll know everything there is to know about me.

"From Senator Organa-Solo," the woman continued. If she'd noticed the dark look that had passed his eyes, she didn't let on. "You're practically all she talked about while we arranged all this."

As she led the group into the kitchen, she introduced herself as Amilyn Holdo. She'd been running the shelter for the past ten years and looked at the people who passed through as her charges. Ben figured she fancied herself as a bleeding heart type, much like his mother, which was why they seemed to be getting along so well. Ben didn't care, so he quickly tuned out of the conversation. All he wanted was to do his time and get out as quickly as possible.

He started a bit as Amilyn Holdo held out a white apron. When he didn't immediately take it, she smiled and placed it on the table next to him. "I know you didn't exactly sign up for this, Mr. Solo, but this can be rewarding for those who make the most of it."

She turned and walked away before he could say anything in reply. He grabbed the apron, wanting nothing more than to fling it into the nearest trashcan, but a quick look at his mother's stony glare stopped him. He sighed as he tied the apron on over his suit. He was about to go through the old metal door that led into the dining area when Holdo's voice stopped him.

"We need to take the food in before we can serve it." Somehow she managed to say it without sounding condescending.

"I thought there were people who did that," Ben snapped as he shuffled over to where the others were gathered. His mother had her apron on as well and, to his dismay, a hairnet covering her bun. At least they hadn't tried making him wear one of those.

"There are, but your mother thought it best if the pair of you were seen bringing it out together," Holdo replied softly, glancing at Leia for reassurance.

"I see. Just some more points for the Organa-Solo Reelection Campaign. Got it." Ben was satisfied to see Holdo's cheerfulness dwindle just a bit at that.

He accepted the black pot holders that one of the volunteer cooks reluctantly held out to him, and used them to wordlessly lift the large pot of what looked to be vegetable soup. He followed his mother and her army of bodyguards into the dining room where, he noticed with mounting horror, a line of people had gathered.

Ben somehow resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose at the sight of so many people who were in desperate need of clean clothes and a shower. Perhaps that would have been more helpful, rather than a free meal of soup, turkey sandwiches, and salad. At least if they were handing out clean clothes, the homeless population could use the showers that undoubtedly resided somewhere in this hovel and go out and find jobs. It would certainly be a better use of his time. Wouldn't the prospect of free food just give these people more excuses to accept their lot in life?

By the time the reporters and cameras arrived, Ben's arm was already becoming sore from filling countless bowls of soup. Some of the people in line mumbled "thanks" or tried to meet his eye, but Ben refused to look or talk to any of them. The only times he looked up and smiled were when his mother told him to for the sake of the cameras. He knew she wasn't pleased about his attitude, but he was beyond caring. She could make him come here to get some free character points, but she couldn't make him look happy about it. In the end, it was his life, and sooner or later she would just have to accept that.

Ben didn't know how much time had passed by the time his batch of soup was finally gone. By the time one pot would empty, one of the kitchen workers would bring out another and he would have to start all over again. He was convinced that some of the people were coming back for more, but no one else seemed to notice and if they did they didn't say anything, so Ben followed their lead and ignored it. As long as his fill was lessening, he really didn't care.

He was just about to bring his empty pot into the kitchen when the now familiar sound of the door to the dining room opening caught his attention. This time it brought him pleasure because he could finally say there was no more food and he couldn't serve anyone. He turned around to say exactly that, but the sight in front of him stopped him cold.

It was a child. A girl, more specifically, and even at that he could see she wasn't exactly a child when he looked closer. The girl couldn't be older than twenty, though it was hard to be sure with the layers of dirt and grime that covered her face and clothes. If what she was wearing could even be called clothes anymore. Her brown jacket was ripped at more than one seam and her pants were huge and hung off her skinny form so much that clothespins were required to keep them in place. The only thing that appeared remotely new and clean on the girl were her black boots, but even they had a layer of mud on the bottoms of them. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in what Ben thought at first was a bun like his mother's, but upon closer examination he saw three buns, one on top of the other in one of the strangest hairdos he'd seen on someone.

"Am I…too late?" the girl panted, looking desperately from Ben to Leia, and then to the cameras and reporters who were all packing up to go home. Immediately her expression darkened, and for some reason she focused back on Ben.

"I think there might be more…" he started to say, surprising everyone in the room, most of all him. He hadn't kept his disdain for the job a secret, but now he seemed almost eager to serve one more person. He only hoped his mother couldn't see right through him.

"No, forget it. I don't want your charity," she all but spat at him then turned to head back for the door. She left as quickly as she'd appeared.

"Who was that?" Leia asked, looking disconcerted at Amilyn Holdo, who had entered from the kitchen just as the girl began to make her departure.

Holdo sighed as she regarded the front door, as though she could see through it to the girl who'd just left. "Her name is Rey, and that's really all I know. She comes in sometimes, but always toward the end of the dinner shift. She never takes a bed, though I'll never understand why. Poor thing's been coming in here for the better part of a year. Can't get a thing out of her, other than her name."

"Shame she ran off so suddenly. Ben was going to see about finding some extra food for her. She looked as though she hadn't eaten all day." Ben could still hear the concern in his mother's voice. He knew she'd camp out at the shelter for days if it meant getting the girl something to eat. If she didn't have other things to do, which she most certainly did.

Holdo shrugged helplessly and gathered some of the dirty plates that had been left behind on the fold-out tables. "Probably hasn't. Like most of the people who come in here, if they don't get a meal here, they don't eat. I hate turning people away, but we only have so much. It's the hard part of what I do. That and sending people back outside when we run out of beds. This building is only so big."

Ben followed his mother and Holdo back into the kitchen with the dirty pots and pans he'd picked up. He helped the workers get the rest, and was more than happy to leave the washing up to them. His mother's job and his were over, and he was more than happy to put this sorry place behind him.

As he and his mother were driven back to their homes, he was dismayed to find that his thoughts had drifted back to the girl. Why had she seemed so nervous when she spotted the cameras? The sight of him seemed to piss her off, and he'd racked his brain for any instant where they might have crossed paths. He couldn't think of any. He was certain that if he'd run in to the girl at any point in his life, he would have remembered it.

Though with his past and the indiscretions he'd pulled lately (his mother's word, not his), his certainty did not exactly count for much.

As he settled himself into bed later that night, he promised himself that he would think no more on any part of that day, especially the girl. He needed to get his life back on track, and obsessing over some homeless girl he was relatively certain he'd never met was the last way he would achieve that.