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crassussativum · 5 years ago

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Mass Effect Asks Masterlist- Cato

(Originally posted by thenerdcommander, credit where credit is due.)

1. What would their recruitment mission look like? ((Cato’s recruitment mission, if it even can be called such, would be after Menae. Primarch Fedorian has fallen. Cato finds Shepard on the Citadel after that mission and demands to come along with them. Shepard might be reluctant at first, but eventually allows it.))

2. Would they be a romance option? If so, who would the option be available to and what would their romance look like? Would there be any special scenes? ((Cato is a shy thing in the ways of romance and sex. And another species? That’s just too confusing for him).)

3. If there is one, what would their sex scene look like? How would the scene change if Shepard or Ryder turned the sex down? ((On the off chance, we’d get to see a naked turian that’s probably never had sex before and certainly never with a human lol it’d be awkward but sweet with a quick fade to black.))

4. If left unromanced, do they hook up with another character? If so, who is it? Is it a canon character or another OC? ((Nah, probably not.))

5. Would they be available as a fling option? What would that scene look like? ((Also probably not))

6. Is there any way Shepard or Ryder could get them to turn on them or betray them? How? Is there any way to get them to back down once the betrayal is triggered? ((Shepard would have to do something big and horrible for Cato to betray them. Like genocide big. And yes, not doing the right thing with the Shroud mission, but then how would Cato know that?))

7. What would their loyalty mission look like? (Cato’s loyalty mission would be simple. All he’d want is a day to pretend the galaxy might not actually be ending, a day to be normal. He’d want to go somewhere the Reapers haven’t touched yet and while that may be hard, he’d just need Shepard to pretend everything’s okay with him for just a little while.))

8. Is there any way to lose their loyalty after it’s earned? How? ((No, I don’t think so.))

9. What would their relationship with Renegade Shepard look like? Paragon Shepard? If they’re from Andromeda, what’s their relationship with Ryder (pick any two alignments)? ((I think Cato would greatly look up to a Paragon Shepard, the always doing what’s right would speak to him on a Spiritual level. Renegade Shepard would probably rub him the wrong way because sometimes doing what’s right in the moment in a way that’s not right is a grey concept he just doesn’t have the experience to grasp.))

10. What phrase(s) would they shout during combat? ((“Incoming!” “Outta the way!” for biotic attacks/charges. Otherwise I think he’d be verbally keeping count of enemy positions.))

11. Any squadmates they don’t particularly get along with? ((Honestly? I think it’s less that he wouldn’t get along with Jack but that she would scare the hell out of him. He’d find how powerful she is totally fascinating, and that her body is her own canvas would intrigue the artist in him. But she’s outwardly abrasive, crudely spoken, and volatile. Waaaay too intimidating for Cato. I think, were he to go along on her loyalty mission, he’d view her as something more of a kindred Spirit, but still be too skittish to make friends. ALSO since ME3. Javik. Javik would terrify him. He’s mean, he’s battle weary, he’s bleak and he finds no joy in the little things.))

12. Are there any instances where rivalries between them and another squadmate could potentially jeopardize their loyalty or views of Shepard or Ryder? ((Maybe? Like I can’t think of anything right now, but I’m sure there’s something. Cato mostly just follows along with the flow, but he’s moody so... it’s possible.))

13. Which squadmates are they likely to make friends with? ((Everyone but maybe Javik. Tali he’d adore. Garrus is a role model. Liara is asari and he loves their artwork and history so much. James I think he’d warm up to fast. Ashley/Kaiden are in the air but I don’t see why not.))

14. In which game would they be introduced to the franchise? ME1? ME2? ME3? Andromeda? ((In ME3))

15. Would they make multiple appearances throughout the games or are they limited to one installment? If they reappear, do they remain as a squadmate or do they become an NPC? ((He’s just a squadmate in ME3 but maybe we saw him as an NPC in ME1 or ME2. He’d have been on the Citadel a lot then.))

16. Which skills are available to them? If they’re from the OT, pick four active powers and one unique passive class power (ex: Turian Agent, Asari Commando, Turian Smuggler, etc). If they’re from Andromeda, pick three active powers and two passive (one of which should be a unique class power). ((So... this is hard. Cato’s an Adept, so his top four biotic moves are: Warp, Shockwave, Throw, and a Biotic Charge just for fun. Idk what passive class powers are, sorry.))

17. Write a quick exchange of banter between them and one other squadmate of your choice.

Cato: “I could use my biotics?”

Mordin: “Yes. Turian biotics, burn bright, burn hot, strong in bursts. Sufficient.”

Cato: “Or you could reach up there and pull it down. ‘Cause you can reach.”

Mordin: “….Small for a turian youth. Still growing? No, stunted. Lack of nutrition? Genetic mutation? Hmm Could take samples….”

Cato: “No samples! Spirits, I’m still growing, everyone says so….”

18. What weapons would they use? Pick 1 minimum, maximum of 2 firearms, 1 melee weapon, and/or 1 special or unique weapon. ((Cato’s got an M-3 Predator, a Phaeston, and an omniblade for close quarter emergencies.))

19. Name one thing that players would remember them most by (ex: Garrus’ calibrations, “Lola”, Mordin’s singing, etc). (Folks would remember that Cato’s the baby! He’s so young and idealistic, kind and caring. Like… he’s great as a squad member bc biotics and small arms fire, but… but he’s still a kid that wants to do kid things. Like go somewhere and eat nothing but junk food, or hit the movies or whatever. He would always need to be supervised bc he has no impulse control either.)

20. If they’re from the OT, what ways could they be killed on Virmire, during the Suicide Mission, or the events of ME3 (pick one)? If they’re from Andromeda, are there any ways they could die? If so, how and how could Ryder prevent it if prevention is possible at all? ((So ME3 and I think he could maybe die during the final battle on Earth, but only if Shepard didn’t do his loyalty mission which reminded Cato “normal” was what they’re fighting for.))

21. Can they be Indoctrinated or Exalted? If so, what would they be like? What options would Shepard or Ryder have to handle the situation? Would there have been options to prevent it? ((No, I don’t think so))

22. How would they react to other squadmates, Shepard, or Ryder being Indoctrinated or Exalted? ((Aghast confusion. Sadness, fear.))

23. When on the Tempest or Normandy, where do they like to stay? Do they roam around? What about on the Citadel or Nexus? ((Cato likes to hang around Garrus or the galley on the Normandy. Turian biotics are always hungry and Garrus is another turian that he can look up to. On the Citadel, he either loiters near the embassy in hopes of visiting with his grandpa -pre 3- or he’s down at the docks praying to see someone he knows. ))

24. Do they have an opinion on the way Shepard drives the Mako? Or how Ryder drives the Nomad? (At first, Shepard drives the Mako way too recklessly and fast…. but Cato is still a child in many ways and I think he’d gradually have fun with Shepard driving, if Shepard was willing to teach him how.))

25. Are they vocal about their opinions of the Council or Nexus Leadership? If so, what is their opinion? Do they make a passing comment to another squadmate or do they say it to Shepard or Ryder directly? (I’d say Cato is vocal about his opinions. His grandpa’s the Primach, he kinda has room to be, lol. And I’m sure he’d willingly talk about it if asked. He hates how the Cabal/biotic turians are ostracized, he doesn’t really understand why. He hates how barefaced and outer colony turians are looked down on. He’s sure that the Turian Councilor has turian people’s needs in mind but how can you see the scope of the big picture if you’re not looking at all the pieces that make it whole too?)

26. What decisions could Shepard or Ryder make that they greatly disapprove of? ((If Cato was aware-somehow- that Shepard put the fake cure in at the Shroud mission, he’d really disapprove of that.))

27. What decisions could Shepard or Ryder make that they greatly approve of? ((Doing that mission for the new Primarch and SAVING Tarquin. Fight me on this. My biotic Shepard could’ve saved him, damnit.))

28. Would they have any special scenes or dialogue in the Citadel DLC or for Movie Night? ((Maybe to Shepard in regards to their clone and is that like having a sibling? Cato always wanted a sibling. He probably drinks too much at the later party and ends up passed out in a cozy, secluded spot.))

29. Would they have any special scenes or dialogue in the final battle against the Reapers or the Archon? ((The final battle against the Reapers, he wouldn’t be able to just sit on his hands, he’d be on the ground driving whatever vehicle transported the survivors to safe locations.))

30. How would they react to meeting Shepard’s clone? Or Ryder’s twin? ((Much confusion. By that point, I like to think Cato would’ve intergated himself into Shepard’s day-to-day. And why doesn’t Shepard talk to him as warmly? Or joke with him the same? Clone? Oooohkay then.))

#ooc #cato #mass effect asks #masterlist #just for fun #long post

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wombathos · 5 years ago

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2. “You know it’s not like that.” Rey/Ben Solo (Star Wars); post-TROS, POV Rey, canon compliant (aka Ben is dead), force ghost Ben, not a fix-it, hurt/comfort, 7.6k words tw: trauma, disassociation, passive suicidal ideation (occasionally comes close to active)

When she left the dead planet, she did not go back to her friends. She couldn’t remember deciding not to, but memories were even further beyond her ability than the choices she would not make. She was not able to die, so she lived. She did not have a destination, so she did not go there. She went many places and the many places welcomed her, more or less. They accepted the strange figure, wrapped in cloth that covered her mouth and nose and goggles that covered her eyes and a staff attached to her back and a bag she never took off, who came to help the locals and then left again. She did not speak to them, merely listened and helped as the Force willed, never giving them a name before disappearing. She thought she could give them the new one, the one she had chosen and said only once, but she had only had it for a moment before it had been stolen from her again and now she could no more say it than she could…

She was not able to die, so she lived.

****

A man asked her to dine with them, to accept food as a sign of their gratitude. She never acquiesced but she found herself eating with them, the grainy portions making no impression on her tastebuds before she swallowed them and they disappeared in her depths. She said no words and the goggles stayed in place, but the wraps were lowered far enough so that the food could pass her lips and she felt her fellow diners watching her hungrily like they had been waiting for some confirmation that she was, indeed, alive, that she ate food like they did and needed sustenance as much as anyone. She did not tell them that she did not need food like they did, that she had gone for days and weeks without even a crumb before and she had survived and she had continued. Once, she had wanted food, had yearned for it. She had desired it with all her self, but she desired no more.

From then on, people gave her food when she came. It was not repayment because she never asked for any and they had none to give, but merely an offer extended to her, out of courtesy, out of care. Whether word of this offer had spread, somehow, between the many places she wandered on the many planets, or whether they merely felt that this would be right, this was the way, whether it was all willed this way by the strings that held the galaxy together, she could not say. Each time, she would not say. The wraps, she would shift. She would eat with her hosts. But that was as far as she would go.

She said no words and the goggles stayed in place.

****

The Force did not leave her so the voices did not either. She barely spoke so it was easy not to listen, for what were words when her mind knew none itself? The wind might be a voice or the voices might be wind, or perhaps it was the clouds telling her things or the grass waving at her from below. But what could the grass tell her?

They came and went and it barely mattered whether other life was around her, though it usually wasn’t. Her voices did not cease, though she thought they might, sometimes, when they quieted to a gentle hum. As night came, they grew more distinct. With the setting of the sun came new life, and sometimes the life had shapes flitting around the edges of her vision. She could not perceive as much as she would without the goggles, and it was better like that, because even the night could be blinding.

She stooped to touch the grass, its rippling blades brushing under her hand, then grabbed at it. Her thumb stubbed into the ground below and cracked dry soil, the last rainfall having come too many cycles before. The grass she grabbed could no longer speak to her, but it was only a little grass and all its fellows all around her continued their cries, almost more enthusiastic now she had gotten nearer. Perhaps they thought she would listen now.

With a sigh, she flopped onto the ground and rolled onto her back. This was as good a place as any. No predators in this area - and if there were, why would they go near her? She looked up at the stars, mostly hidden by clouds but still twinkling, some of them anyway. She willed herself to sleep. Slipping away was easy, these days. Nothing keeping her with the waking.

But she woke before things passed and moved on as they should and became a blur again and

he appeared, flickering, insubstantial, and it was still dark and he was above her as she jerked to her feet with sudden energy because she never had seen him and there he was and

then vanished again with the light of the green star rising in the sky.

And as the star rose, she felt herself slipping again. She wished it gone, wondering whether she could grab it out of the sky and crush it, or throw it far away into the depths of the galaxy. It felt like she might, some days. Who knew what was or wasn’t inside her. With the cord between her and him broken, it was like the energy just spilled out, no connection to flow into and no being to act as her equal, opposite, the balance gone - and maybe she could make it all crash and bring the sky falling down. And away she slipped, as it all became one blurry mass again under the bright light of a green star.

Slipping away was easy, these days.

****

But things would go on like this. And she would see the shadow again. And the voices never left. Perhaps this was the galaxy’s way of taunting her. A final punishment for a crime she did not quite understand. Perhaps death was calling to her and she heard only the dead. It was only a shadow, after all. What is a shadow but the temptation to fall? Why see darkness if not to wish to join it?

She saw his shadow and she heard voices. He was the only shadow to still come, even though she had seen them clearer than she ever had him. The ghost of mother and uncle, who had offered her guidance, she had thought, belonging, she had dreamt. Then they left her too and all she had now was this path she walked. The shadow made it harder. The shadow made her wish it might never become day again. The shadow would drag her down with it before it was done.

What is a shadow but the temptation to fall?

****

Rey, whispered the clouds up above and the rain came falling down. It poured itself out with no restraint, no gradual easing into the storm or ebb and flow or slant to its drops, like there was no wind, like there was merely a bucket that had been tipped over to engulf the planet. It just poured down. Straight down.

Maybe if she stayed standing here, it would push her all the way down into the centre of the planet. And then darkness would engulf her.

****

Rey, the wind howled at her. She told it to go away, not with words because she didn’t know if her tongue would still form them. It would, she thought, because she had gone weeks without speaking before. It was easier like that, treading forwards without any thought but following the path she had trained for, had instructed herself in for years and years. The path of complete solitude. It was where she had always been heading and now it had arrived, stretching out in front of her far past the horizon.

She did not belong here but she did not belong anywhere. There was no point stopping but nowhere to go and no one but the wind to accompany her.

****

Rey, she dreamt - and when she dreamt, it was the shadow who said it to her. Not that it ever said anything. If it did, she would follow it. There was nothing else left for her, so she might as well follow it. There was no home that was not ruined, that was not ruin. Let the darkness have her. Let it be over.

****

Then, one day, she had a visitor.

It interrupted her walk, her wandering that went nowhere in particular but would eventually take her to the nearest town. At first, she could merely see something in the corner of her eye. She turned and frowned as she saw a small blue blip fly over the rock’s edge towards her. The blip became a butterfly, bright wings fluttering as it approached, an aberration in the midst of the dead. She told it that it shouldn’t be here. Not with words. What would a butterfly do with words?

Rey, called the butterfly, the word rising from it as it settled on her finger, one she had outstretched without thinking. The touch jolted her, because the butterfly was alive and it felt too strange to touch something living. They were connected as two beings in the Force and now that same Force flowed through their physical touch, and it was an oddity because she could not remember being touched. She did not want to be touched, she did not want her skin to hum with the feel of another. She did not know why and could not say what had changed from her childhood longings, but this was simply the way she felt. And yet, right in that very moment, with the butterfly touching her, she did not mind.

She stood there, frozen, worrying that if she moved then the butterfly would leave her again. It would fly off and she would be alone. And she stood there for who knew how long, until night came and the moon rose and her stomach ached from hunger. And still neither of them moved.

And she would have to, eventually, or she could wait until the weather beat her down and the seasons made her one of their own and the ground claimed her. And she might have, except that the butterfly began flapping its wings in something that she, ridiculously, identified as concern.

So all she had was a thought, a request, a prayer to keep it with her. Be with me, she said without words and without voice. And when she moved again, the butterfly stayed with her.

It didn’t speak to her. But every time she heard that name now she had once called her own, it came from the butterfly. Rey, it would call. Rey, it would brand her. Rey, it would sing.

****

Once, she had felt belonging.

It happened only for the briefest of moments, short enough to be flukes. Still, it had been the kind of thing worth holding onto. She didn’t quite understand herself why she hadn’t been able to return. It wasn’t a choice she had made, not really, so how could she tell?

It was there, then it was gone.

****

And with the beat of a far off ship, clattering through the sky, there was something there. Not just the butterfly, which had remained with her for far too long, fluttering around her as she went from one planet to the next. No, this was something else.

The shadow was back. But it shimmered this time, not like they had but merely a little as the night sky stretched above them. And this time, it had a face. This time, it was him.

She stared at him, shock grappling for control over her with something like fear. Uncertainty. Anger. She reached up, pulling roughly at her goggles and tearing them off so that she could see properly, tugging her wraps off her face at the same time. It was the right shape, all right. She thought she had left him behind and now he dared to…

She hadn’t felt such anger in a long time.

Maybe he could see it in the twist of her mouth, the way her fists carrying the goggles were balled, her eyes squinting at him - though that was mostly adjusting to the unexpectedly bright moonlight, reflecting off the shivering red grass that came up to her thighs - but he was frowning at her, an unhappy crease to the corners of eyes that were always screaming. The moon had a ghostly blue to it and it tainted the grass, making its colours dull and its surroundings lifeless. She preferred the view with goggles. She didn’t know how she preferred to see the shadow. Now she was thinking about it all again, and she really rather wouldn’t.

Rey, said a voice, and the mouth moved at the same time.

But if this were true…

The butterfly flew from her shoulder and flapped its wings, hovering between them, before landing on his shoulder. He barely seemed to notice, except for a slight twitch when it came to rest, and continued to stare at her.

For a moment, she forgot herself, forgot the glowing that surrounded him and the way his voice wasn’t quite there and how dead people did not simply come back, and she stepped forwards so that she was right in front of him and spoke.

“You’re here.”

She grabbed his hand. Hers went right through, with a shimmer. Nothing. She felt nothing.

It was the first time in a long while she had felt disappointment, and it tasted bitter.

His face was still so close and she looked up at it, sad eyes meeting hers. He looked like he was about to cry. Had she missed that? Maybe. She didn’t think she had let herself miss.

I’m sorry.

“You’re not here.”

Not physically.

“Then what is this? A force ghost?”

More like a force projection.

It was her turn to frown as her throat ached, unused to forming words and certainly not this many at once. With the backdrop of the moon and the way it reflected of his eyes, he almost blinded her. How odd, that he could do that. “Where are you force projecting from?”

He shrugged. How odd.

Beyond.

Beyond - where was beyond? Wasn’t that where force ghosts came from too? How was he more real than them, but still not real?

“Are you my shadow?”

The frown deepened.

Shadow?

“It’s been following me around. The butterfly” - she gestured to where it perched on his shoulder - “that was the one thing. And the shadow.”

I don’t know. I tried to reach out, but you never heard me.

“I try not to listen,” she said, words slipping out and - well, she might’ve chosen them differently. It sounded… off.

He clearly thought so too.

Why?

“Not to you, specifically. There’s a lot of voices out there. Too many. I -”

She subsided again, and her throat was aching and she was doing all together too much talking and… what more was there to say? What was there ever more to say? They had lived, had known each other, had died. Whatever tie had connected them in life had dissipated with her passing, his passing, one of the many deaths they had shared and had then separated them. This was bigger than her, bigger than him, and whatever the Force was choosing to do with her now, he could not fix. She was merely there, for the taking, stripped free of what she had once yearned for. And he was gone.

I remember the butterfly.

She jerked herself, paying attention once more. The voice wasn’t real but it certainly matched the movement of his lips well, so that she could almost believe… “Where from?”

I don’t know. Long ago.

A hint of frustration crept up in her, as unfamiliar as everything here was. “How can you remember if you don’t know where from?”

He looked a little surprised, then his lips quirked. She’d never known them to do that, not really, except for perhaps once in the the throne room of the ruins. She could’ve lived with seeing them do so again.

I have a memory of it.

She made an irritated huffing sound. “What use is that?”

None, probably. Why are you here?

The sudden change of topic threw her, a little, which maybe was what he had been intending or maybe was just a happy coincidence. She shrugged, buying herself time to remember. “There’s a town - local thugs have been causing trouble. They took advantage of the collapse of the First Order to redirect some arms supply lines. The people here need my help to get rid of them.”

He nodded.

There must be a lot of that. Such instability always leads to chaos.

“Not like you’re here to help,” she said. She wished she could pretend like there wasn’t bitterness in her voice, but they both heard it.

His big eyes watched her, warily. I don’t know that I would’ve been much help.

“Really? Big, powerful Force user? Could’ve been worth a shot.”

I didn’t have a place in the galaxy, once it was all over.

Something welled up inside her then, genuine fury at the dignified resignation in his voice. How dare he have accepted this. “That wasn’t your place to decide,” she hissed, glaring up at him and mashing the goggles together so much in her fist they might soon crack.

There wasn’t any other way.

“I didn’t ask you to do that. I never would have asked you.”

He looked at her, shocked. Confused. Like he didn’t know what could possibly be troubling her.

I saved your life.

She stared right back at him, anger coursing through her.

“I don’t feel alive.”

Tears welled up in his not-real eyes and very nearly spilled over. He leaned forward, as if he wanted to touch her. Stopped.

Why?

“I don’t know,” she said. “I can’t say. I can’t speak.”

He was about to speak, she got there first.

“I can’t speak.”

Then fell silent.

Nothing else, really. Not from her side, anyway. He still wanted to speak, she could see it on him. But the moment her will faded, so did he. And she was left utterly alone with the red grass beating against her knees and the pale moon sapping her life from her.

The butterfly remained. Now that it could no longer hover on him, it had to flutter back to her again, taking its familiar place. That was all she had left. A little blue thing to convince her that maybe, just possibly, she wasn’t imagining all this.

****

Rey, he said, the next night. She had been fighting that day, taking down thugs who were way too easy an opponent for her. The thrill of the battle was not the same as it had once been, but it still made her heart beat a little faster with the physical exertion, which was something at least.

She’d had the goggles and the wraps back up. For a moment, she considered leaving them there. But she removed them, and saw him properly. He was just as before. Not really there.

“I thought you couldn’t make me hear. And then two nights in a row?”

He stepped forward, pausing before he got too close. The butterfly had fluttered back to him.

Now you’re listening.

She removed some more distance between them, though she wasn’t sure why. “What is this? Why are you here?”

His mouth opened, closed again. He seemed hesitant, unsure of himself. Barely behaving like the man she had known in life. Maybe this is what the boy had always been, before he had become something else. Maybe when it all fell away, this is what was left. He was wearing the jumper, like he had been. But no wounds marring him. Not in death.

This isn’t what it was supposed to be like.

She raised her eyebrows, prompting him to go on. Still didn’t want to use that voice more than she had to.

You were meant to live.

And for what? “Well,” she said, “I am alive.”

You don’t feel it, you said.

“I don’t need to. I’m doing what I’m meant to be.”

You’re alone.

It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” she said anyway.

Where are your friends?

“I don’t know.”

Why aren’t you with them?

She shrugged, remembering sending BB-8 off on its own with barely moee than a short message attached. It had all just happened that way. She preferred not to dwell on it. “I’m more efficient this way.”

Efficient doing what?

“Fixing things.”

His brow creased.

Why are you doing this, Rey?

“I have to. It’s what I’m meant to do.”

Who told you that?

She shrugged again. “I’m doing good. Shouldn’t that be enough?”

No. It’s not enough.

“I care about doing the right thing,” she retorted. He barely flinched.

Not like this. When was the last time you talked to anyone?

“I’m talking to you.”

Anyone alive.

“What does it matter?”

It matters because I didn’t save you so that you could live like… this. Not even living at all.

And the fury was back. “That’s none of your business,” she said heatedly. “You had no right to decide about my life and death, you don’t get to decide about what I do with myself now that I’m still here.”

Rey -

“No. I don’t want to do this. It’s pointless. You’re dead, I’m not. There is nothing to say. I have nothing to say.” She bared her teeth as she stepped forwards and snatched the butterfly from his shoulder, before stomping away. When she turned back, he was gone.

****

The next night, he did not return.

The night after that, he did not return.

And then she realised she was scared. Because, for some mystifying reason, the thought of never seeing him again was… painful. Scary. Bad.

The butterfly was still there. She had to trust that… Trust that what? When had trust ever gotten her anywhere?

It did, back then.

She had left the planet, flown to another. The underwater city welcomed her, did not ask any questions when she rode up to the surface each night, to sit on the hut-sized lilies that floated on the clear water. Maybe its inhabitants whispered amongst themselves, wondering what she was waiting for. But they never bothered her.

Rey, she heard one night, and was ready to accept that it was merely the wind or the grass or the lake or her own mind playing tricks. But if there were any tricks involved, it was ones that looked remarkably like him. So she stood up to face him, both eyeing each other somewhat warily.

“You’re back.”

Yes.

“You said you could only reach me when I was listening. But I have been. And you didn’t come.”

I wasn’t sure you wanted me too.

Something clenched in her heart. “You’re an idiot.”

He looked at her all confused, eyes shining and posture stiff and… he was still shimmering, not really there. But everything else was so real.

I didn’t want to bother you.

She shook her head in disgust. What should she even say to that? “Where are you now?”

It’s hard to explain.

“Try.”

It’s… a place between life and death. Something else.

“Beyond.”

Yes.

“Are you lonely?”

Why had she asked that?

Sometimes. There’s familiar faces here, some new ones too. But I miss you.

He said it so easily that she wanted to punch him. How dare he say that, after what he had put her through? How dare he tell her that their separation stung when she...

She stepped closer to him again, not bothering to try and touch. “It’s all right for you, then,” she said. “It’s all fine for you. And hey, you got the easy way out,.”

He blinked several times.

I died.

“Yeah,” she said, tone harsh. “I know. I was there.”

So did you. Do you know what it felt like, seeing you like that?

She wished she could punch him. “Do you know what it felt like for me?”

It’s different.

“How is it different?”

He paused, didn’t find anything.

It just is.

She snorted. They looked at each other.

I didn’t think it’d be this way.

“What way?”

Are you happy?

She shrugged. “What does it matter?”

Everything.

What could she even say to this? “Not everything. That’d be selfish.”

And that’s not the Jedi way.

“It’s not about that.”

Then about what?

She shrugged. “Are you dropping by just to argue with me?”

The lips quirked again.

Maybe. Would that be bad?

“It’s annoying.”

You know you can get rid of me any time.

“Who would I have to talk to then?” she responded, dryly. But he looked serious.

Your friends.

“This again? I don’t even know where they are.”

I’m sure you could figure it out.

“Probably.”

Then why don’t you?

“What’s the point?”

Why are you alone?

She looked at him, really looked at him, the dark eyes and hair and big nose and… and she’d thought of touching that face, once upon a time, of inspecting it and studying it and… holding it. How long had it been since she had touched another human? She remembered the hug, nothing since. Before that, she remembered the kiss. She tried not to, but there it was. What had happened, then? Why had it happened? How had it all happened so quickly and then nothing had followed? How long could nothing last?

Rey?

“I think I came back wrong,” she said, knew that she had always known it since the sand planet and the wrong name. This isn’t meant to be, the Force whispered to her every day. You’re not meant to be here. And it was right.

She reached out, wanted to touch him, knew she couldn’t. It wouldn’t fix everything, the touch. Wouldn’t fix whatever inside of her was messed up. But it might fix some things and she would’ve been willing to try.

He looked like he would’ve quite liked trying too.

You didn’t come back wrong.

She laughed, didn’t remember the last time she had done that. Gestured down at herself. “How can you say that? Have you seen…?” Everything?

His lip was quivering. She could see him enough in the darkness of night that she could notice details like that. Made it all feel more real and not real at all.

Rey. You didn’t.

“There’s something wrong with me.”

No.

“How would you know?”

I can feel it.

“You wouldn’t be here if everything were all right. Wherever you were, clearly it’s all fine. All fine for you. You’re just dropping by because I’m…” She trailed off. How often could she tell him that she was all wrong?

Everything’s not all right. You shouldn’t be alone. You shouldn’t be living a half-life.

“A half-life’s all I’ve got.”

It’s not. It’s what you think you’ve got.

“What’s the difference?”

Everything.

She stared at him, open-mouthed, then shook her head. “I don’t want to do this right now.”

He started, seeming to think she was about to get rid of him.

Rey…

“No. Can we just… could we just sit together? For a while?”

He frowned, slowly taking in her words, mulling them over. Then nodded. Maybe he knew that was all he was going to get.

They sat down next to each other on the lily as it gently drifted across the lake. The night sky was nearly empty. The butterfly began making lazy laps around them, maybe bored by how still they were. She was half-facing him, determined to see his face while she could. And he was always looking at her, as if the lake didn’t even exist.

It was only with the morning sun that he finally vanished, the rays of light making him dissipate. She crawled back to the underwater city then, needing sleep all too desperately. What was the point of day? All her life was now in the night.

****

She didn’t get much done, that day, her struggle with physical exhaustion dogging her throughout. And she was waiting for darkness to come again. She was waiting for him. It was hard to care about anything else, with something to wait for, finally.

He came only when the last of the light had disappeared, when she was already perching on the lily on the lake and the goggles were already off and the wraps were already pulled down. Still she said no words to anyone who wasn’t him. What was the point?

When he came, she immediately smiled at him, a smile that was so easy and ready it startled her.

Rey.

“Hey,” she said. “Back for more?”

He looked taken aback by her apparent eagerness, then smiled in response. So odd, how it lit up his face. So odd.

You’re still in the same place.

“I still have work to do.”

What about your friends?

The smile slid off her face. “Don’t start again.”

Rey…

“I’m fine as I am,” she said hotly. “It’s nothing to you, anyway.”

He contemplated her, lip quivering again.

That’s not true.

“You left me,” she said. “When you did that, you lost every right to… to even know. You don’t get to begrudge me this life, when you were the one who made me live it.”

You have your friends.

“As if it’s the same. As if they - they don’t know about him, or what fighting him was like. Or about you, about - about us, about any of…”

The way he had perked up made her suspect he would dearly like to know what she meant by us. But he didn’t ask. Instead -

Then tell them.

“They couldn’t understand.”

Understand what?

She shrugged, gestured around a little helplessly. “Understand me. They don’t know how broken I am. I don’t fit in this galaxy any more. But while I’m still here, all I can do is what I can do. And that’s how I intend to use my time.”

When she chanced a glance at him, he seemed frustrated and halfway towards miserable.

You’re not meant to use your time for that. Not just that. You’re meant to be happy.

“And you get to decide that, do you?”

That’s why I saved you.

“I didn’t ask -” she started, didn’t finish. “You chose to leave me.”

He was looking ever more pained.

You know it’s not like that.

“Do I?”

If I could have… There was no other way.

“You said you didn’t have a place in the galaxy, once it was all over. Makes it sound like you already gave up.”

He shrugged.

I’ve had a lot of time to think -

- he lied.

She scowled at him. “Did you even want it?”

He hesitated, then nodded.

If… I could have. I would’ve liked to see what it was like… with you.

How coy he was being.

“To be with you,” she said and his eyes widened, like she hadn’t kissed him when she’d had the chance. “That’s what I wanted.”

He seemed shocked, ridiculously. It was all wrong, how he was reacting. He didn’t seem to understand anything. And now he was looking nervous, almost frightened. It was all wrong.

Is that why you’re here?

“I’m here because I have work to do.”

You know what I mean.

“No. Not because of you. Because of everything. Because of who I really am and how I’m all wrong now. I have no place in this.”

That’s not true.

“It wasn’t true for you either.”

He contemplated her, looking tempted to argue, but didn’t.

Maybe we’re both wrong.

“You definitely are.”

He laughed and it nearly sounded real. But then instantly became serious again.

Rey, you can’t go on like this.

“Why not?”

It’s breaking my heart.

That took her breath away, all right. He wasn’t even real, yet he could still do that, apparently. Steal it right away from her. She hated this, hated feeling again. Hated how she suddenly missed her friends, how she missed laughing, how she missed him. It had been so easy. It had all been so easy.

“Why did you never come?” she asked. When he didn’t answer, she continued, “I saw your family. As force ghosts. I waited and waited, but you never came.”

I came.

“You were late.”

The corner of his mouth twitched.

It took some time. For me to find my way.

“All that time? It’s been…” She didn’t actually know. She thought he maybe guessed as much.

Not all of it.

She sighed. “So why? Why didn’t you come earlier?”

I thought I might disturb you.

“Yeah, you see how busy I am at the moment.”

I didn’t know that.

“Thought you might’ve bothered to check in.”

He looked sadly at her.

I didn’t want to be a burden.

If only she could still punch him. “A burden? How could you possibly burden me? Maybe because now that I see you, I remember every single day how you’re dead? How you gave up your life for me?”

It was the right thing to do.

“There was nothing right about it.”

He looked like he wanted to argue. Didn’t.

It was my choice.

“It wasn’t mine. It’s not like you asked me. You just did it and then died.”

Rey, you still have your entire life ahead of you -

She jerked forward so violently that the lily was in danger of tipping over. As they swayed, the butterfly fluttered in alarm. “And you didn’t?”

It’s different. I’d done too much.

“Shut up,” she said, biting back tears now. “Shut up. Just - shut up.”

She missed not feeling like this. She missed feeling like she was someone. She missed those times when the Force left her alone and there wasn’t a shadow and there were no whispers in her head. She missed thinking she had a place, and thinking that place might not be alone. She missed companionship, and the promise of the man who had infuriated and then comforted her, who made her feel a little less lonely. She missed hope.

He would never understand what it was like. He couldn’t understand now how miserable she was. She hated him, for bringing her back and pretending like his own life was worth giving up in turn. She hated him for pushing it so far, so that when it all fell into place it was all too late. She hated him because she wanted him to hate her as she hated herself but he refused to. She hated him because he had left her.

****

“You left it all in chaos,” she said two nights later, having trekked to the top of a hill that looked down on the lake. It was peaceful, there, with the cloudy night sky obscuring all the stars and leaving a blissful nothingness in their wake. He was there too, standing close to the edge, mesmerised by the sight below whenever he wasn’t staring at her.

I know.

“Thought you had all those big plans for the First Order. But you never did anything with them.”

No. Guess not.

“That was all useless then.”

Yeah.

He said it with so much acceptance, that hateful resignation once again. She wanted him to protest her words, the implication that nothing he had done had mattered, but he refused to do so. He made her so angry.

“Why did you do it, then? What was it all for? You had a galaxy at its knees. And it’s like you didn’t even care.”

She hated it when he contemplated her so calmly, like death had sapped the entirety of his spirit from him. There was no passion left, here. It had been easier when she had been like that, but whenever she was with him, she couldn’t bring herself to be.

I didn’t, in the end.

Then what had he cared about? “You wasted so much time.”

Yeah.

It felt like every time they saw each other, she became even angrier, the fury coming ever easier and ever closer to boiling over. She wanted to kick him or punch him or just shake him, but she couldn’t because he was still shimmering and not really there, and even though the blue butterfly could sit on him she most definitely could not.

“And then you died,” she said. “So you didn’t even fix it. You fixed nothing.”

He shrugged.

I should have. I don’t know whether there was any fixing of what I did. Not enough.

“You could’ve tried.”

I don’t think it would have ever gone like that.

She balled up her fists to stop herself from trying to grab him. “Don’t you dare pretend like any of this was inevitable.”

And still the calmness about him.

Not inevitable. Merely likely.

“Why are you here?”

He paused, at that. Almost looked guilty.

I won’t if you don’t want me to be.

“Shut up. Just tell me why you’re here.”

He raised an eyebrow, but answered anyway.

I wanted to see you again. But I also knew something wasn’t right.

“Nothing about this is right.”

You’re all alone.

“I told you, that’s none of your business.”

He stepped closer to her, brow furrowed. When he next spoke, he sounded genuinely frustrated.

Don’t you want to be alive, Rey?

She snorted. “I don’t want anything.”

When he fell still, the butterfly took the cessation of activity to land once more on his shoulder. He stared at her and she struggled to read anything specific into the look, except the awful calm had fallen away and she was almost grateful it had. She could still get to him, even though she didn’t know what getting to him meant. It all was so strange, them talking, both closer and more distant than they ever managed in life. When he had been alive. When they had been alive.

Then she realised he was crying.

He was doing so entirely silently, which was what made it so hard to see, at first. The tears simply rolled down from where they pooled under his eyes, down his cheeks to drop off his chin. It was hard to spot too with the shimmering light of his form, so that she had to squint to see the tear tracks.

“Ben?” she whispered.

I just wanted you to be happy.

His voice was horribly choked up and he must have known she knew he was crying, but he did not reach up to wipe away the tears, instead simply allowing them to trickle down.

What should she say to that? Was she meant to be guilty that she couldn’t feel the way he wanted her to? Did he regret ever having made the sacrifice?

I thought you would be happy.

“You thought it’d be that easy?” she asked wearily.

You have friends. And you’ll make others. I thought you could live your life, your whole life, and enjoy it. Yes, I thought that.

“You left me with nothing.”

You have -

“Yes. I know. But they don’t know about anything. I have a broken family legacy and another one I can’t seem to hold on to. You’re dead. I’m back from the dead but I can’t make myself feel alive except when I’m talking with whatever you are. All I have is the work I’m doing. But you can’t leave me be.”

You can’t keep doing this.

“Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do.” She continued dryly, “I’m so sorry I didn’t use your sacrifice the way you wanted me to. Funny how it all goes wrong in the end, isn’t it.”

This isn’t the end.

She snorted. “Right. Look, you don’t understand what it’s like. You’ve always had purpose. I know what it’s like to wake up every morning and there’s just no point except for surviving. Did it for years, didn’t I? And then I failed at that too. Now I’m doing what I have to, except you’re here and you’re just making it harder.”

I’m dead.

“So was I.”

****

And yet.

And yet he had a point. Here he was, having sacrificed his life so that she could live hers. Here she was, barely connected to life except through the most strenuous of ties. Here they were, once again doubtful that they should be continuing their conversations, but incapable of staying away from each other.

Are you sleeping enough? he asked.

Are you still seeing enough sun? he asked.

Should we do this fewer nights? he asked.

It would be easier if she could earnestly believe this was merely a shoddy excuse to talk to her less and not genuine concern on his part. She wished she could feel scorned or rejected, instead of being faced with this gentle worry that made her feel all guilty.

She didn’t owe him anything, surely. It was not up to him to tell her how to live her life. If she wanted to leave it… that would be up to no one but her.

But sometimes, when the butterfly landed on a mossy rock and she looked up at a coil of mist threading its way through dense branches, she remembered what it was like to want to be in this galaxy. She remembered yearning for green. She remembered finally finding it. She remembered friends she wanted to see once again.

You wouldn’t even have to stay with them, he said. Just find them, then decide. You should talk to someone who isn’t dead. Please, Rey. Just try. Just try.

She couldn’t live for him. But maybe she could live for herself.

“If I died, would I join you?”

The question scared him, even though he tried to hide it.

I don’t know. I don’t know where people get to where I am. You couldn’t know for sure.

“I’m not going to. Not yet,” she said, watching his face collapse into unconcealed relief. “I still have work to do, remember?”

The lips quirked in a way that was now familiar.

Yeah.

“That’s not enough for you though.”

No.

“Why do you care so much?”

He straight up laughed at that, and she couldn’t stop herself from joining in. Just between the dead, it was a pretty dumb question.

***

When she left her next planet, she did not immediately know where to go.

That was… odd. She had always known, somehow. She didn’t know why or how, but she had known.

And now. And now. And now, where was there to go? Where would her path take her next? The butterfly hovered above one of the levers, then settled down firmly. She stared out past it at the darkness of space. What if she just flew into that darkness, kept going on forever and ever and waited to see where it took her?

That sounded pretty lonely.

She turned to the butterfly, winked at it. “What do you say, think I should check out one of the core systems?”

The butterfly did not respond, but she liked to think it approved.

****

It was hard to not turn back, at every point. It was hard not to flee. She didn’t know what she would say. She didn’t know how she would speak. It was scary. She was scared.

And yet, it was time. She knew that. She had to do this, whether for him or for herself or for her friends or the entire galaxy. She had not come back right, she was still sure of that. But… well, this loneliness, it cursed her to a half-life. It was worth testing, in any case, whether it could be escaped. And she was not dead. He had not let her die… or he had but now she was back. And she was of life and she could not relinquish it again. Not now. So she might as well see where it took her, and what it could give her. And maybe… maybe that would be something worth living for. Somewhere out there.

She was not able to die, so she lived.

****

And he talked to her, encouraged her, even while she felt him fading again as she drew closer to the centre of civilisation, the overwhelming light of life beckoning to her, drawing her in. It was no place for a shadow. He did not seem to mind, even though it terrified her. The butterfly didn’t leave, at least. It still fluttered around her, all bright and blue and chipper in the face of her fear. And he faded, every time a little more.

But he told her to continue. As each cycle drew to a close, he whispered it to her. The instruction became a call repeated so often to become a memory, one that her mind sang back to her wherever she went. So that when she finally found her friends and he faded away entirely, she would always hear him with her.

Live your life, it said.

Have fun, it said.

You have friends, it said. And you’ll make others. So many others.

Maybe you’ll find someone else. Maybe you won’t. I’ll love you either way.

You’ve been so brave. Now you get to live.

Live it all, do it all, see everything this great big galaxy has to offer.

Live your life, it said. And - have fun. And - see everything you can.

And….

And I’ll still be here. I’ll always be with you. And I’ll be there.

When your journey ends.

#listen given i clearly cannot actually do the 'flash' part of flash fic even once a week will be an accomplishment #at least i'm still writing something right #leela does flash fic #leela writes a thing #rey #ben solo #reylo #star wars #txt #felt weird about posting this bc it was written in a spirit of 'acceptance' but i'm feeling in more of a 'denial' mood again #but given everything... guess i just needed a dose of angst but also maybe healing #tw suicidal ideation #tros #*runs away*

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