A/N: Well. This kind of just happened one night. Social distancing and having time on my hands has really gotten to me, y'all.

Ben Solo always had a knack for predicting an opponent's move.

Nothing seemed to get past him – he once had the academy scores to prove it. The jilted whispers of his peers brushing themselves off, collecting their stick sabers, and walking off the dirt dueling grounds had been music to his ears.

Side step

Deflect

Lift

Overhead twirl

Downward slash.

His uncanny ability of being one step ahead of his opponents served him well through his schooling and his sinister transformation into the mighty Kylo Ren. His lifelong training and raw strength in the Force naturally slid him into the role of leader amongst the other Knights. His master, Supreme Leader Snoke, had high hopes for his reign, strategically selecting an apprentice of Skywalker blood to surpass the dark legacy of Darth Vader.

However Snoke, much like the others, too fell a step behind.

Which is why Ben's current predicament of not knowing his next move is so unusual.

"Ben!"

Her whisper mirrors the mixture of both relief and bliss lighting her features. Unfamiliar with both the sound of his given name and the elated response, Ben hesitates. Her hand finds his face, her fingertips lightly touching his cheeks as if confirming their reality. His own hand remains on the back of her neck. Their gazes tangle, frantically dancing across each other's' faces, not quite believing the others' presence. Ben feels himself buzz with anticipation from their close proximity, but hesitates in quiet anticipation.

Ben Solo had always been able predict his adversaries' next move.

So when her lips unexpectedly crash against his, he knows he has finally met his match.

At her wordless permission he meets her advances with equal vigor, tugging her small frame against his broad one. His eyes close, drinking her in: their shared pleasure is intoxicating.

When she finally pulls away, Ben welcomes the forgotten sensation of his lips widening into a large grin. No ascent to power or manipulation of the Force had given him such peace than this intimate moment.

With a sigh of contentment and a final embrace of the light, his world slips into black.

"Help! Someone, please-"

Rey's voice was raw and projected hardly a whisper over the thunderous celebrating of the remaining Resistance at their base on the jungle moon of Ajan Kloss. Lightheaded and weary, she felt as though was walking through a dream. Their cheers and jubilant laughter were all but warbled, indistinguishable sounds and as disconnected as she felt. The weight of Ben's lifeless body weighed her down from the side and she could sense his consciousnesses fading in and out. With one of his arms over her shoulders and hers looped behind his broad back, she made her slow approach to the triumphant camp, struggling with each step. She didn't have much time.

Outside the base was a chaotic scene of vehicles, ships, and bodies. The stench of fuel, sweat, and alcohol filled Rey's nose as she dizzily searched for her friends, eyes darting across the mob: a swirl of beige, green, and orange.

"A medic." It came out more as a gasp than a yell. Ben felt heavier somehow. "Please, I need a medic-"

"Rey?!"

Poe Dameron's booming voice carried over the crowd's commotion. The bewilderment and urgency in his inflection caught the attention of nearby rebels, causing a strange hush to fall across the site. Rey knew she must have been quite the sight: streaked with dirt, tears, and blood while carrying the weight of a strange man they had never seen before. She felt their curious eyes continue to bore into her but did not shift her attention from Poe as he assessed her and the lifeless body she struggled to keep upright. She then shamefully watched as his expression darkened at his silent recognition. Confusion was replaced with anger.

"Rey, why-"

"Poe, please." The sheer rage that tumbled off of him almost knocked her off her feet. She did not need to be sensitive to the Force to know his resentment towards the man she carried – she saw it in the smoldering behind his brown eyes. There was no hiding his animosity. Baffled, their surrounding peers observed this tense, unspoken exchange between two of their Resistance leaders.

Always one with timing, Finn finally stepped from behind Poe and into view. Rey desperately caught his gaze, her eyes both pleading and filled with sudden embarrassment. She doesn't have time to explain to their onlookers why their Resistance hero held the fallen First Order's Supreme Leader with care – they had to act quickly. Guilt snaked around her heart and tightened her chest, leaving her breathless and sick. She had not been honest with her friends.

Finn's warm brown eyes held Rey's for a moment, as if to take her in, before flickering over to the wounded man in her arms. To describe him as a man was to be kind, for he had be the source of so much anguish and fear in Finn's world, a previous life before Rey that had only known torture and destruction. Rey waited in agony for his response she was certainly unworthy of. For a few brief moments, Finn closed his eyes until finally Rey sensed an unusual calmness settle over him. She sighed. It was inexplicable, but was it was as though he had somehow heard her without a single word being spoken out loud.

Finn opened his eyes before addressing the nearest two men who silently gawked. "Get him on the Falcon and get him some water." He gestured towards Ben. "There's senoti bark and bacta bandages onboard-" Finn eyed Ben's abdominal wound, which since reopening on Exegol had bled through his shirt. "It should sanitize and heal properly, preventing any further infection or potential fever."

Poe finally spoke. "Finn, you've got to be kidding me-"

Before Rey could counter, Finn raised his hand. "Trust her." Poe opened his mouth to debate further before Finn interrupted, low so no one could overhear. "Poe, he's Leia's son."

Poe bristled with a hissed response through gritted teeth. "I don't think he's been her son for a very long time." But he conceded, hands on his hips, allowing the men to pass. After they've collected Ben and the surrounding spectators had dispersed, he turned to Rey with a single raised finger. "He comes as our prisoner."

Rey could only nod in response, fully empathizing with her friend's outburst. Tears brimmed her lashes. "He will be." She promised.

There isn't more to be said. With a deep exhale, a wounded expression replaced Poe's tense features before walking away, shoulders sagged. Exhausted. Defeated. By instinct, Rey moved towards his retreating back in attempts to follow him before she felt Finn clasp his hand on her shoulder. His voice is soothingly reassuring. "I'll talk with him."

Rey nodded again. Finn gave a gentle squeeze before heading in Poe's direction.

"Finn."

He paused and turned back to her. She offered him a tired smile.

"Thank you."

Finn shot her his trademark grin before sauntering off in Poe's direction.

Left standing alone amongst separate pockets of conversation, Rey suddenly became self-aware of her grime stained apparel and arms. She raised her hands within view, examining the blood smeared against her palms and between her fingers. Whether it was hers or Ben's, only the Maker knew.

"Master Rey." A careful automated voice came from the side of her. Rey looked towards it, to find Threepio, standing alone a few feet away. It was unclear as to how long he had been there and though his expression was devoid of emotion, one tilt of his head indicated he was assessing her. After such a tumultuous day of warfare, sacrifice – almost his entire self - and loss – what sort of wise words would he want to bestow today? Threepio had seen decades of war and had his own share of battles firsthand: did he think this outcome would carry out any differently? Rey found herself in a rare state of wanting to listen to his sage, shrill droning.

"If you don't mind me noticing…" He began, the squeak of escaped air from his neck released with each head motion. "You do appear to be in great need of a fresher." Oh. "I have on good authority that there are some available in the back of the camp."

In spite of herself, Rey chuckled. Either frenzied panic or nonchalance: there was no in between for this droid. However, there was comfort in fact that some things had not changed.

"Thanks, Threepio." She would take him up on that. It had been a long day.

A/N: Way less subtle Ben/Rey fic than I usually write. Although I went into TROS knowing full well Ben Solo would not make it out a live, it's fun to explore what challenges and reactions he would have received if he had lived.

Let me know what y'all think!

Be safe & well

xox rose