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When Ben Solo saw his Uncle Chewie for the first time after his father’s death, it was in the cockpit of the Millennium Falcon.
He had only been on his late father’s ship for a mere 10 minutes at that point, but by the time he had made it up to the cockpit, his hands were shaking with anxiety. Dread was consuming his mind and he wanted nothing more than to turn around and run away from this ship, from his entire past existence. Take Rey’s hand and drag her away, regardless of what the girl and her morality had to say about it.
In the months following the death of Kylo Ren, and consequently the rise of Ben Solo, he had struggled with the overwhelming task of rebuilding the sense of self he had lost so long ago. Which was even more difficult, when he considered that he could barely remember who he had been to begin with.
He rationally knew that he was beyond lucky to have been given this second chance at his life. It wasn’t everyday that people died transferring the last of their force to another being and then woke up unscathed, if not incredibly confused and badly bruised from the battle.
He knew that he couldn’t squander his second shot at life. He needed to learn to be himself again, to be better. And Rey had been nothing but kind and lovely and gentle, helping him make amends with both himself and the greater galaxy around him. She had given him her own forgiveness and in return had only asked that Ben try his hardest to be good again, to embrace the light side and learn to help those around him.
So he had volunteered in the post war efforts to help rebuild communities that had lost so much. He had talked to the mind-healer Rey had found him and learned to cook food for himself (real food and not just pieces of dried meat and fruit on crackers) and he had been reading books and sketching and even trying to use the force in little ways, ways that made him feel good.
But there had been some things he had been unwilling to do, no matter how much Rey encouraged him. And the man had been far too scared to return to this ship for the many months that he had been trying to rebuild his existence.
But he knew that he needed to do this for himself, for his healing, to prove that he was going to be ok. That he could learn from his mistakes and move on, use his life for good. He would never be able to erase the past, but he could change the future after all.
In hindsight, he was stupid to not consider the fact that his Uncle Chewie would be there- where else would he be after all?
But that thought had slipped his mind when Rey had suggested that they visit the Falcon over breakfast that morning. She had been asking him to go for months at this point and he had turned her down each and every time, the panic consuming his entire being at the mere thought of confronting it all. But something about this morning had felt different and he had finally gotten brave enough to face the memories and emotions he had spent years repressing.
Or perhaps he had simply gotten fed up with being asked to do it and he was finally ready to do something about it, so that Rey would stop asking him. Because as gentle as she was, there was a limit on how many times he knew it was realistic to make her ask him, before he finally caved.
And maybe part of it could be chalked up to the fact that was desperate to get it over with if only to appease this new budding romance of his, to prove to himself that he could be good again.
So, no he had not considered the fact that Chewbacca would more than likely be there when he used his spare keys, the ones he had been given as a present when he was 18, to enter the ship. The fact that today would be more than visiting his father’s ship, that he would face demons he was terrified to confront.
He wanted more than anything to turn around and run away from this entire mess, but it was clear that it was too late for that option when he was faced with the Wookiee that had haunted his guilty mind for months. And when he saw him there, looking so innocent and pensive, he felt as if he was falling from the grasps of one reality, one consciousness, into an entirely different one.
It was one thing to repent to an entire galaxy of strangers, or even to Rey herself, but this was his Uncle Chewie in front of him. The same Wookiee who had fought with his mother to take him on his first smuggling mission with his father when he was only 6 years old. The same Uncle Chewie who had bandaged scraped knees when he was a child and made him cookies and taught him how to play Sabacc when he was 10 and further how to gamble with candy and old trinkets. The Uncle Chewie who had practically raised him at the times when his parents fights became far too overwhelming to be around near the end of their marriage, or when his Uncle Luke’s expectations for him became too suffocating, or even just when he had his first crush on a girl and was too embarrassed to tell either of his parents about it.
And when he looked at him standing in the cockpit, large frame standing beside the empty pilot's seat, clearly deep in some sad, far away thought, he saw the shadow of his father sitting there next to him. It felt like he was staring at a ghost, transient memories filling the space, mimicking the appearance of a man that could never be replaced. No matter how much he repented, and changed and grew, no matter how hard he tried, or wished or willed for circumstances to be different, Han Solo was gone forever.
And he was never coming back.
And god it was all Ben’s fault.
He had no one else to blame.
He felt shame and panic and fear and so much grief overwhelming him, crawling up from his stomach and through his throat. The feelings felt all consuming, like the dark side of the force that he had fallen victim to for years- suffocating him.
He wanted to turn away from the empty chair. It was all too much for him. He couldn’t handle this. And he simply wanted to let the panic and shame consume him entirely- swallowing up his entire existence whole. Because then maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t have to be confronted with the painstaking grief that was entirely of his own making.
He wanted to run until his lungs burned, reminding him that he was human, hiding from the world, locking himself away- because maybe if he locked himself away he wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else. He was certain he was a monster and the best way to protect them from him would be to leave all together. He didn’t care what Rey had to say about him. The girl could see goodness in everything, anyone, it didn’t mean that there was truth in what she saw. He could see no good in himself after all.
He was conflicted however, because while the feelings of fleeing the situation felt overwhelmingly large in his brain, there was a second, smaller part of his mind that wanted to stay put and scream and beg for forgiveness from the Wookiee. And the smallest part of his brain, the most selfish part, wanted his Uncle to hold him close, to comfort him.
He knew that his heart was truly aching for the comfort of his father, but maybe, just maybe his Uncle Chewie would be enough to satiate the sadness that sat so heavy in his bones, he feared he would never be rid of it in this lifetime.
He wanted to hug his father for one single, final time. He wanted to smell the intoxicatingly familiar and comforting scent of motor oil and cologne. He wanted his father to tell him he was proud of him, and ruffle his hair and hug him as he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, until he was all out of tears. He wanted the man to promise him that everything was going to be alright. That there was nothing he had done that couldn’t be fixed. That he was going to be ok.
He wanted to hear his mother singing lullabies to him again, eyes softly fluttering open to see the hazy image of his parents kissing each other as they put him to sleep.
He wanted to feel the warm air as he trained with his Uncle Luke, paired with the warmth of the force deep within his skin, alive and buzzing with power for him to tap into.
The cockpit of the Falcon had been a place of joy for so many years, a staple of his childhood, a second home, but being here right now felt so unfamiliar. The silence was suffocating him and he was haunted by far away sounds of laughter and the emptiness of his father’s seat.
He couldn’t help the self hatred from crawling its way up- suffocating him from the inside out. A mangled, twisted version of the force that he had no control over possessing is entire being. The universe was so undeniably out of balance, that he could feel it in every breath he took.
This was all this fault.
This was all his fault.
This was all his fault, repeated like an unwelcome solemn tune in his brain. A mantra he would do anything to escape, to run away from. He needed to be free of the weight of his guilt, and shame and grief over his own actions.
But Rey was holding onto his arm and the point of contact made him feel alive and grounded. Her fingers were cool and refreshing against his burning skin and the touch was nothing if not sweet and good, transferring strength into him that he needed desperately. She squeezed his arm once, as if to remind him that she believed in him.
Ben swallowed down the panic and grief and guilt. He knew that it would only get worse the longer that he refused to acknowledge the pain of his past. He had to do this whether he wanted to or not. He had to face his Uncle, the last part of his family that was left.
Taking a timid step forward, and god wasn’t it ridiculous that he could be so timid after years of being Kylo Ren, he tried to calm his shaking hands, wracking his brain for anything that he could say to his Uncle.
And then Chewbacca, his kind, compassionate Uncle Chewie was stepping forward himself, as if sensing Ben’s apprehension before he could even process it himself, and then he was pulling him into his soft fur like he weighed nothing.
Ben felt tears prick the corner of his eyes, as his Uncle held him close, rubbing circles into his back in the same way he had so many times when he had cried as a child. And in that moment, it really did feel like Ben was a child again, like his entire family was here with him and ok and good again and whole and not the husk of a man who had lost everything.
As the Wookiee hugged him, the suffocating feelings of grief were quelled for a single second in time, as he let himself be comforted in the way he had been so desperate to be comforted in for years- but had denied himself for so long. And then he was actually crying into Wookiee's shoulder. Big hot tears soaking into Chewbacca’s fur, as the boy sobbed, letting it all out.
And then Rey was tentatively stepping forward, draping her delicate body over the back of Ben, one hand on his shoulder, the other one reaching out to rest on Chewbacca’s fur.
“You’re going to be ok, Ben.” She stood on her toes, trying to whisper into the man’s ear, “It’s all going to be ok.”
And in that moment, he could start to see clarity in a way that he had never been able to see before. He could see the light of a path forward through the dark cloud of grief and sadness that had overtaken his life.
A path forward where he could be good again.
And kiss pretty girls.
And reconcile with his Uncle.
And train to be a Jedi again.
And learn the light side once more
And come to terms with all of this pain and grief and not just swallow it down, locking it away like he had learned to lock away his light side while studying to be dark. No, he could learn to live with the mistakes he had made and accept the empathy those who loved him were willing to give and rebuild his life once more.
As a changed man.
As Ben Solo.