Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The diner is packed with people when I walk in. The bar is mostly full, just a handful of tables open. The checkerboard floor is messy but not gross; the large windows overlooking the tightly-packed dirt road aren’t off-putting, but they could use a good cleaning. The formica tabletops that are free look clean, however, as do the shiny red plastic covering the stools and booths. Glancing into the kitchen, it looks about par for the course for a restaurant. I walk past the Please Seat Yourself sign and glance at a nearby waitress in a pale pink, 50’s inspired dress and tan nylons as if for permission, and she blinks and smiles at me in return.

“Hello!” she says, and people start to look over at me table by table. The diner doesn’t grow silent, but the talking grows muted. Everyone is staring at me.

Ah. Okay.

“Hi,” I say in a cheery voice, and she blinks in surprise- my RP accent is a far cry from hers. I grew up in England; she grew up, presumably, here, in the heart of Georgia, close enough to the Florida line.

“Take a seat wherever ya’d like, ma’am,” says the waitress. Or hostess. I don’t actually know.

“Thank you very much,” I say, and I head towards one of the smaller available tables. The waitress follows me over, slipping into the booth across from me, and I blink in surprise, sure to keep my smile wide enough.

“You ain’t from around here,” she says.

“No, ma’am.”

Her nose crinkles, smile widening, as I speak- specifically, when I say ‘ma’am’. She taps her nametag- “I’m Kaydel Korinne Dameron,” she says. “But everyone ‘round here calls me either Kay or Kaydie, so you can, too.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Kay or Kaydie,” I say, and she giggles. “I’m Rey. Rey Anne Hux.”

“Rey,” she repeats with a little smile- hurriedly, she goes on. “The pleasure’s all mine, Rey. Pretty name- unique. Is it short for somethin’?”

“No, it isn’t,” I say. “But my mother used to call me ‘Rachel Anne’ when she was mad at me, anyway.”

Kay gets her biggest smile yet, her pale brown eyes crinkling up at the corners. Her hair is dyed a fair shade of blonde- her roots are a little darker, maybe dirty blonde, maybe light brown. She’s wearing a fair bit of makeup- it’s subtle, but it’s seven o’clock, and I assume she’s been here long enough that time and sweat is the reason it looks a little rough around the edges because her eyebrows are sculpted with skill and precision, and I almost can’t tell that she’s wearing falsies. Still, she’s pretty, and the wear and tear isn’t terrible. “What brings you to these parts?”

“Well, right now, I’m waiting for my brother and his fiance,” I say. “We’re supposed to be just passing through, but I guess that’s not so certain anymore.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“I’m not sure? We’re taking two separate cars, and you know, it’s not terribly safe to talk on the phone and drive- Ari, my brother, he’s pretty anal about it. We needed to eat anyway, though, so…” I motion around at the diner with a small smile. “Do you get lots of passersby?”

“No, not at all,” Kay says, still all smiles. “Prob’ly noticed the whole diner piped down when you’s first comin’ in.”

Rey’s smile renewed. “Well, and to think I just looked nice today.”

Kay gives a giggle, reaching out to touch Rey’s hand. “You do! You look very pretty, doll. I’d bet my last dime that that was on the minds of a couple o’ these ol’ boys.”

I smile, then notice headlights pulling in- I turn to see Ari’s pale green Volkswagen Beetle as it pulls easily into a parking spot. “Oh, I think that’s them.”

“I’ll bet- I ain’t never seen a car quite like that,” Kay says, peering out at it in curiosity. Ari gets out quickly, rounding the car; Rose, in the passenger, spots me and gives a big grin, waving. I grin and wave back. “Oh- she seems sweet!”

“She really is,” I say as Ari opens the door for Rose, helping her out. “She’s my best friend- used to be my roommate, until she moved in with Ari. I’ll never forgive him for stealing her from me.”

Kay giggles, but something in her eyes changes as she takes in Rose’s protruding, pregnant belly. Something I’m not terribly fond of. I clear my throat and lean away slightly, watching them as they head towards the entrance- shortly after they disappear, the bell announces their arrival, and they come in arms locked and head straight towards me. Kay gets up and gives another smile, but that something in her eyes is still changed. My brother and sister-in-law sit across from me, in the booth that Kay had just vacated.

“Hello!” says the waitress brightly. Her eyes linger on the ring on Rose’s hand a moment too long for my liking, what when coupled with that look.

“Hi!” Rose says brightly, and Ari gives a smile and brief nod, not quite making eye contact with her.

“Hello,” Ari says in an accent that, of course, matches mine.

“How are we doin’ on this fine evenin’?”

“Oh,” Rose hums, swaying a little, leaning into Ari. “About as good as we can be, I suppose!”

My brow knits at that, but Kay rambles on before finally asking what we’d like to drink. “Three waters,” Ari says.

I quirk a brow at him. “And a sweet tea for me.”

Ari purses his lips in disapproval but says nothing, and he shouldn’t, because I am a grown ass woman.

“Will that be three waters, or just two, then?”

“Two,” Ari grumbles quietly. “Thank you.”

“But o’ course! I’ll be right back with that.” Kay smiles and then scurries off towards the kitchen.

I lean forward, studying Rose. “What’s going on?”

“I’m in labor,” she says with a nervous smile, and both of my eyebrows shoot up.

“You’re- in labor?” I sputter, brain not quite processing that.

“Yes,” Rose says almost sheepishly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Ahh… Okay,” I say, running my hand through my own hair. “We- did you already look for any nearby hospitals?”

“There are none,” Ari says, and a dire, haunted look overtakes his face. “No hospitals for hours in either goddamn direction-”

“We’re in public, Armitage, please,” I whisper, and he glowers at me. I looked over at Rose. “Okay, okay- we’re in a town right now. Babies have to be born here. We’ll ask the waitress- Kay, her name is- when she gets back-”

Snickering behind us. I prickle and turn, seeing a table with four men at it. Two of the men aren’t facing me, but two are- one looks amused, intrigued, and the other just studies me silently, not a smile to be seen on his face. His dark eyes are painfully intense.

“Yer surrounded by locals, ma’am,” the smiling one who’s facing our table speaks up. “Could ask any number of us.”

“Thank you,” I say. “Where- what- please, help,” I settle on, not even sure how to ask other than that.

The two closer men snicker again, but the one facing us only grins wider. “Yeah, we’ll help you folks. Jus’ finish yer meal, there- don’t look three seconds from poppin’, there’s enough time- and we’ll show you on down to ol’ Maz’s. She’s a midwife.”

“Oh, thank God,” Ari gasps. “Thank you.”

“Yes- thank you,” Rose adds. Yet again, the grinning guy’s grin widens even more. He winks at Rose.

“But o’ course. I’m Poe Dameron, by the by- Kaydie’s ol’ boy. This is Benjamin Solo here next to me- jus’ Ben, ‘less you’re fixin’ for a fight- and these here are Finn Williams an’ Thomas Wexley- latter o’ which goes by ‘Snap’.”

“Pleasure to meet you all,” I say. “And- thank you again.”

“O’ course! Town’s happy to help.”

Kay returns shortly thereafter with the three drinks, and we thank her. Ari and I, as per usual at unknown American restaurants, order fish and chips. Not because it’s English, but because it’s hard to mess up to the point of inedibility. Rose orders a burger and fries, and Kay smiles and walks off, having not jotted down a single thing.

“Hoooohhh…” Rose breathes, then gives a nervous laugh-

“You’re gonna be alright,” I say quickly. “I know you had it all planned out, I know it’s a little sooner than expected. But these things happen all the time, and they’re gonna be just fine.”

“You’re thirty-six weeks,” Ari went on, despite looking even more wrecked than Rose. “That’s one single week premature. It’s nothing to lose our heads over- Rey was born at-”

“Twenty-five weeks, I know,” Rose says breathlessly. “Miracle of the century, apple of your mother’s eye, a gift from God. I’m still freaking out right now.”

I reach forward and take her hand. “Rose Tico. You and your babies are going to be perfectly fine. In a day, or two, or three, depending on how long they want to torture you in labor for-”

Rose laughs breathlessly at that.

“You’re going to be cradling a little baby girl and a little baby boy and they’ll look chubby and weird and beautiful, and the terror of this moment will have faded away to leave room for the gentle maternal bliss. And you know that, so cling to it, and when you start to freak out- remember it. Because that- those little babies- are why you’re doing any of this to begin with. Isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Rose says softly, looking down. “Yeah.”

It isn’t very long at all before Kay brings out our food, one plate balanced precariously on her forearm, and sets them down in front of us. Rose’s burger looks and smells divine; my fish looks far better than I’d been expecting; Ari’s looks like it was thrashed about in the fryer and pulled out a few minutes too soon. He clears his throat and forces a clearly fake smile, glancing from my pristine fish to his… Frightful plate… But for once, he says nothing.

Probably because he’s worried about Richie and Arizona.

… I’ll never get over the names that Ari allowed her to choose. Richard Alistair Hux and Arizona Ranger Hux. She thinks they’re cute. I think they’re going to be terrorized in school.

“What are you smiling for, at a time like this?” Rose whispers frantically, popping a fry into her mouth.

“I’m smiling about getting to meet my atrociously named niece and nephew.”

“They’re cute names!” Rose insists, shrill and a little loud. A lot of the other diners glance over and she flushes crimson, staring down at her food.

“I do like Arizona Ranger, a bit,” I grumble softly. Mostly because pregnant Rose is a little scary.

“I picked it ‘cause of the game! The song, in Fallout: New Vegas- which you got me hooked on- and the game that Ari and I bonded over-”

“I know, Rosie,” I say softly. “I said, I like that one.”

“What’s wrong with Richard?” Rose demands.

“Nothing,” I say.

“What’s wrong with Alistair?”

“A lot, especially following after Richard, but he’s your kid, and you can name him Shitty Diaper Hux for all I care. Hell, it’d suit a baby a lot better than Richard Alistair-”

Rose shakes her head, trying to still be defensive, but she’s clearly fighting a laugh. She sits back and puts a hand to her forehead. “I feel horrible.”

“We can go,” Ari said at once.

“No, no. I’m hungry,” Rose said softly. “Food’s helping.”

“I told you we ought to stop for lunch, rather than have those sandwiches-”

“I liked those sandwiches!” Rose says, again a bit too shrill, a bit too loud. Ari pulls away, trying to remain calm.

“They’re babies,” I say through a mouthful of fries. “They are meant to pop out. Her, I understand- you know, bodily horror and all- but you, Armitage, need to grow a pair.” Ari’s face sours.

“Yeah,” Rose grumbles, popping a fry into her mouth, and he frowns down at her.

“Excuse me, Rose,” Ari says, pulling away.

“The A-riz-o-na ran ger with abig iron on his hip…” I sing quietly, bouncing along gently.

“A big iron on his hip,” Rose echoes, looking up at Ari with big, innocent eyes as she, too, bounces gently.

Ari sighs heavily and put his elbow on the table, burying his face in his hand. “I’ve gone entirely mad from the two of you.”

“Good,” we say in unison, then reach out to hold hands over the table.

“Maybe, I’ll name my first daughter ‘Rose of Sharon Cassidy’. You know, have a whole slew of New Vegas themed children.”

“I’ve got dibs on Arcade,” Rose says.

“Okay, but Veronica’s mine.”

“I’ll take Elijah, then.”

“Ah… I’ll take Christine. I’ll call her Kit and Kitty.”

“Do you think I could get away with Follows-Chalk?”

“No, not really.”

We finish our meals and Kay comes over. “One bill, two…?”

“Two,” I say as Ari says “One.”

We lock eyes. “You’re about to have a baby to pay for.”

“You’re a nineteen-year-old bartender renting a room in a stranger’s basement.”

My face sours. “Thanks for announcing that, asshat.”

Kay giggles softly, covering her mouth and then clearing her throat.

“One bill, please,” Ari says.

“I-” I start, indignant.

“You got it!” Kay says in a chipper voice, setting one bill face-down in front of Ari. I scowl at him, but he ignores me, pulling out his wallet and locating his debit card.

“I’m getting the tip,” I hiss. “Tips on card are rude as hell, by the way, Armitage.”

Ari purses his lips and glances up at me. “I’m leaving a tip.”

“I guess she’s getting a big fuckin’ tip, then, ‘cause so am I.”

“You don’t even know-” Ari starts.

“I’ll bet it’s just shy of forty bucks, yeah?”

Ari scowls at me as Kay takes his card and the bill away. I drop a ten on the table and hold it there, lest he try to snatch it and sneak it back to me later.

Soon enough, Poe Dameron and Benjamin-Just-Ben Solo are getting up just as Kay hands him back his card and the bill. I pass her the ten and she flushes and smiles, taking it with a ‘thanks’.

“Of course, you’re very welcome,” I said, casting a final glare towards Ari, who only rolls his eyes in response.

“Y’all ready?” Poe asks, glancing over at us.

“Yes, sir. Thank you,” I say.

He grins. “Ain’t gotta call me ‘sir’, darlin’. Just Poe works fine.”

I offer a hand, and he blinks and chuckles before shaking it. The one that I’m pretty sure is Snap snickers, then clears his throat and scratches his nose. “I’m Rey, by the by, and this is Armitage Hux and Rose Tico, soon-to-be Hux.”

Poe gives a smile to each of us. “Well, come on, Rey, Armitage Hux, and Rose Tico-soon-to-be-Hux. Them babies need to stretch their legs.”

“And Rose Tico-soon-to-be-Hux is about ready to get them out of her,” Rose whimpers, holding her belly in both hands, looking down at it with a mix of exhaustion, worry, and adoring love.

“You know, in a few years, we’re gonna have to do this all again,” I say. “And you’ll get to be the mildly amused friend that time, not the terrified mama.”

Rose giggles and leans into me as we follow Poe and Ben out of the diner. “Oh, please. You’ll be the mildly amused mama, and I’ll be the terrified friend, and you know it.”

I giggle, too, because she’s probably right.

“I’d greatly prefer it if we can do that in a hospital, when the time comes, in a decade or so,” Ari grumbles, and I flip him off discreetly. There’s children in the diner behind us.

“Where’s the fun in hospitals? I’m having a home birth in a kiddie pool, and my midwife is going to be on the back half of a cocaine high-”

“Stop it,” Ari all but snarls, and I roll my eyes and lean into Rose.

“He’s so easy to rile up.”

“Oh, I know,” Rose says. “I didn’t used to, and then these babies made me evil.”

Ari grumbles a dour agreement and we both flip him off.

“Jus’ follow me,” Poe says, patting an ancient looking truck. “Ben’s gonna round up the back in case somethin’ happens, an’ to make sure we don’t get split up. These roads are a little windin’, but it’s no more’n a ten minute drive, even goin’ slow as we will so as to not tempt fate.”

“Thank you,” the three of us say in unison, and Poe flashes another charming smile.

“O’ course.”

We all file into our respective cars- Ben in a shiny, suped up black track, Poe in his red-and-white ancient Chevy, Ari and Rose in their little green Beetle, and me in my heavily-worn Jeep Wrangler. Her name is Gertrude, she’s tan and stained to hell and back, and she runs on her last limb, but I love her ‘till death does us part.

The Volkswagen is named Beetlejuice.

We drive for eleven minutes almost down to the second, stopping in front of what looks like a ranch. It’s drab and dreary, the bricks old and worn- missing in more than a few places- and the lawn is covered in chaotic ornaments and goodies, and I grin and snicker.

Small towns are delightful. My niece and nephew are going to be brought in this world by whoever the fuck owns this house, what with one of the windows missing and replaced with what looks like pure ductape, and a nude mannequin in the front yard with almost hyper-realistic nipples and a vague indent where a vagina would be. She is caked in dirt, missing her left arm and her right leg.

Ari’s probably shitting himself. My snicker turns into a cackle.

“The arizona ranger with a big iron on his hip- a big iron on his hip…” I mumble to myself as I put Gertrude in park.

Ben is opening my door before I get the chance to, and I blink up at him in surprise. He hasn’t spoken a word to me yet.

“Thank you, sir,” I say.

“You’re welcome,” he grumbles, his voice deep and booming. He outstretches a hand; I blink again and take it, letting him help me up.

His hand is big, and warm, and strong.

Huh.

He’s tall. And broad. Long, dark hair cascading towards his shoulders from beneath a sturdy ball cap- a little sweaty, just like his red flannel and dirty work jeans. He’s big. I look up at his face as he closes the door for me-

He’s hot, too. So hot that I’m surprised I haven’t noticed until now. Strong jaw, pouty lips, dark eyes… His skin is dotted with birthmarks and freckles. He meets my eyes as Poe leads Ari and Rose inside, then nods towards the house. “Ain’t very big,” he says. “Probably be in the way inside.”

“I’ll keep my distance,” I say. “But I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

He glances up at the woods, then gives a single nod. “Alright. C’mon, then,” he says, and his big, warm hand graces the small of my back as he guides me towards the front door- the other three have already disappeared within.

I decide that I very much do not mind his hand being there. I think better before leaning in closer, though. I live in NYC, and neither one-night-stands nor long-distance are at all my thing.

I can’t stop glancing up at him, though. He’s even prettier from the side. He looks everywhere except towards me, but he seems to draw me slowly closer as we approach the house. He smells like salt and firewood.

Yummy.

When we get inside, Rose is already laid down on the ground atop a slew of quilts, and Ari’s looking around the dimly lit, clutter-filled home looking like he’s about to be sick. A very short woman without a lick of hair is kneeling in between Rose’s splayed legs, her dress hikes up to her belly- Rose, not the midwife- and her panties resting on one ankle as the midwife- Maz, I think?- takes a look at what she’s working with.

I stop to peer at the place in question, frowning. “Granted, I’ve never seen Rose’s before,” I say. “But is it supposed to look like that?”

“No,” Ari says quickly, and with finality. Someone in the next room over barks a laugh.

Maz glances up at me with a grin, her glasses so strong that her eyes seem far too small for the rest of her face. “At the moment, it is,” she says.

“Stop looking at my flower,” Rose says.

“Your- your flower? Rose, you’re twenty-four years old, and you call it a flower-?”

“Yes!” Rose says frantically. “What do you call it?”

I clear my throat. “I don’t think it’s polite to curse in front of strangers, or babies.”

Ari scowls as another bark of a laugh sounds. Ben brushes past me to head into that room, and I can vaguely hear Poe’s voice as it begins to drift farther away. I shift closer to Maz.

“Hello, by the way! I’m Rey.”

“Maz,” says the midwife with a warm smile. “And who are you?”

“I’m the auntie,” I say. “I assume you’re the midwife?”

Maz cracks a grin. “Why, yes, I am.”

“Good, good. I’d be a little alarmed about you being in that position otherwise.”

Maz gives a laugh, low and sweet. “Trust me, girl, so would I.”

“Me, too,” Rose says.

“Well, you’re fairly dilated,” Maz says after a moment, saying it a little weird. “In a few minutes, now, I’ll have ya start pushin’.”

“Oh, boy,” Rose says, head falling back against the dilapidated couch. “They’re twins- did I mention there’s two of them?”

“No, but I’d have guessed, judging by the size of ya,” Maz says.

“May I sit next to her head, please?” I ask softly.

“Have at it, yes.”

“Thank you, ma’am. If there’s anything I can do-”

Maz smiles at me. “Thank you kindly, dear, but I’ve got this.”

I nod, sitting down and brushing Rose’s bangs out of her face. She starts breathing like she was coached, and Maz corrects her more than a few times.

Before long, she’s pushing. And in minutes, it seems, Ari runs out the sliding door to get sick- I can see Poe a few moments later, guiding him away.

“Fuckin’ pansy,” Rose pants in between cries of pain.

“I’m gonna miss pregnant Rose,” I giggle out. Rose hits my leg as hard as she can, but all in all, it’s still more than worth it.

“You can tell your brother he’s only getting these fucking two,” Rose whines. “I’m never doing this shit again.”

“But I want more nieces and nephews.”

“Get fucked, Hux.”

“Alright- I can see the head- stop pushin’ for a moment, now…” Maz pipes up again.

Then, there’s a baby. Maz starts directing me then, and before too long, I’m cradling a grimy little baby boy in my arms and gently washing him clean as he mewls. He’s as ugly as I’ve ever seen a baby, with chubby little cheeks and stark black hair, straight as a line. He’s more than a little plump, but so were both of his parents when they were born. I coo softly at him, sitting next to Rose so she can look at him while she works on delivering his sister.

“Hi-ii, Richie,” Rose sobs out. “Hi, baby boy…”

“Is that your mama? Is that your mummy?” I whisper gently, and he gives another mewl and squirms slightly. “Oh, yes, it is, Richie. Say ‘hi’ to mama-”

“Stop pushin’ again,” Maz says.

And then, before long, I’ve passed Richie to Rose and I’m cleaning off Arizona as Maz helps Rose deliver the afterbirth.

Arizona has a mess of ginger curls, and she’s about the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And then Rose and I are both crying, clutching both babies, as Maz smiles and gets the afterbirth taken care of.

“They made it so fast,” Rose whimpers. “They’re so sweet, already.”

It isn’t until we’ve got one baby latched to each of Rose’s nipples that she looks outside in concern. “I hope Ari’s alright…”

“Oh, I’m sure he is,” Maz says.

“I can go check up on him,” I offer softly. Rose looks down at her babies, then nods slowly.

“Please and thank you,” she breathes. I kiss her temple, then the cheeks of each of them, before getting up and wandering outside.

I don’t see anyone, but there’s a trail of vomit leading into the woods. I sigh.

“Ari? Armitage! Your children are waiting! Rosie misses you!”

Dead silence, save for the typical forest sounds. I sigh- it’s dark- and gingerly step around the vomit, following it just a little bit into the woods. “Armitage Alexander! You get back here! At least answer me!”

Then, there is a sound- distant, but not terribly far- but unmistakably Ari. A ha-yupp, or something, like something is wrong-

I take off like a bat out of hell, then, in the direction of the sound. There’s more than follow, but not voices this time- struggle. Then, another- “Rey! Get them-! Ooof-”

“Ari! Ari!” I shriek.

I don’t think. I’m nothing but adrenaline and terror and pure kinetic energy.

“Now, why’d ya have to go an’ drag her into this, buddy?” a voice calls-

Poe. Poe Dameron.

I snarl softly and speed up.

The foliage has my legs hacked up, but I don’t notice the sting. I don’t know how I’m dodging all the fallen branches and dips in the ground, but I do, making a beeline for the noises.

“Rey, please!” Ari sobs. “Go! Get them gone!”

I freeze and hide. They’re about a basketball court’s length away, if my ears serve me. I try to look, but I can’t see anything at all. It’s nearly night, just the faintest remnants of day lingering on.

“Did pretty good,” says a voice behind me, and I jump and nearly, nearly piss myself. I swivel and turn to see Snap, a machete in hand. “Not quite good enough.”

I don’t say anything. There’s nothing to say. I stand there and stare until he takes a languid step closer-

I duck and he grunts in surprise. I fake out towards his dick and he blocks; I grab the machete and wrench it free, then slash it against his leg and he falls down with a shriek. Then, I hurry towards Ari-

Poe’s got a machete of his own, baring down on Ari with it, but he’s paused and looking over at me and the direction of Snap still screaming behind me.

Ari’s hair’s a mess. His clothes are a mess. He’s covered in vomit and it looks like someone slashed one of his heels open. It smells like blood- and piss. His lip is split, a little swollen, and both of his eyes are blackening. I lock eyes with Poe, who glances down at the machete I hold and then off in the direction of Snap.

“Damn. You sure you didn’t knock that ol’ girl up, what with them balls you got ‘atter bigger’n his?”

“Drop the fucking knife,” I say in a low, steady voice. “And get the fuck away from my brother.”

Poe gives a hearty laugh. “No can do, small fry- aye, Snap! Quit yer bitchin’ and hollerin’, you hear?!”

“Hey, fuck you, Dameron!” Snap calls back.

“Wha’dya do to ‘im?” Poe asks, charismatic and conversational, turning towards me casually.

“I cut his leg,” I say. “Drop the fucking machete.”

“You first.”

“Fat fucking chance,” I say.

“Ditto, doll,” he says with a shrug.

I don’t know what it is- maybe I catch the sound, or maybe it’s pure intuition- but I duck down and throw myself to the side. Ben comes crashing forward and I swing-

He twists, falling onto the dirt to catch my wrist. He gets the machete away quickly and I kick him in the jaw- he grunts but seems largely undeterred, tossing the machete away and dragging me closer.

It’s not long before he’s got me pinned belly-down with ease, and I look up as Poe descends upon Ari and slashes him deep across the belly with a machete-

“No!” I shriek, spitting into the mud.

It’s a horrifying, horrified, gut-wrenching sound, but it doesn’t hold a candle to whatever horror is coursing through every cell of my body. I flail and kick, but Ben just gets a dirty palm over my mouth, and his hand is so big that it keeps my jaw closed. He leans forward.

“If you’re smart,” he grumbles in my ear. “You’ll look the fuck away.”

But he doesn’t make me, and I don’t. Poe drops to a knee as Ari tries in vain to scramble away, face twisted up. He gives up all too soon, his eyes finding mine, twisting with more horror than pain now. “Don’t hurt them,” he sobs out. “Don’t hurt- don’t hurt any of them.”

“We ain’t gonna,” Poe says, still so casual. “Don’t you worry about them, they’re gonna be jus’ fine.”

And then, he does something, and Ari screams- it takes me a moment to realize that Poe’s-

Cutting his junk off.

I scream and thrash, closing my eyes against freely pouring tears, but it gets me nowhere. Ben’s knees are pressed into the dirt outside of each of mine, his calves pinning mine to the ground. He’s got both of my wrists held tight in between our bodies, his chest on my shoulders, his free hand holding my face. With anywhere from two to three hundred pounds of pure muscle on top of me, I’m not going anywhere.

Poe stands up, holding what must be Ari’s dick in his hand, but it’s too bloody and too dark, and Ari is shivering on the ground. “Now,” he said. “I was gonna kill you quick after this- slit yer throat like a buck- but ya had to go an’ drag her into this. They’re gonna be a lot more upset knowin’ what happened than jus’ thinkin’ you got lost in the woods, so as punishment, yer gonna get a slower fuckin’ death-”

I thrash and flail and cry and scream and do just about anything I can, and it all amounts to nothing.

“Calm down,” Ben snarls in my ear. “You calm down and let me tie you up, and then I’ll take care of your brother. How’s that sound?”

I freeze.

It sounds horrible.

Maybe less horrible.

“Rey, please,” Ari sputters, and it’s barely coherent.

Something in me breaks. I collapse into the earth, sobbing into Ben’s hand, into the dirt that must be caking my face now.

“Get me the rope, Dameron,” Ben grunts. Poe throws it over and Ben ties my wrists quickly, expertly- then keeps them close to my back by looping it quickly around my waist. He binds my knees to one another, then my ankles, before setting me on my butt in the dirt.

I sob into the air then, squirming uselessly. Ben walks past me, reaching up under his flannel to pull a gun out from a holster at his hip.

For the stranger there among them had a big iron on his hip.

A big iron on his hip.

He shoots Ari in the head twice, and I jump and hiccup and sob. I fall sideways into the mud and curl up.

“That was unnecessary,” Poe inserts.

“Girl’s strong. Easier that way. And there ain’t no damn use in torturing the fucker, anyway. God’ll sort him out.”

Poe crouches in front of me and I scowl up at him as pure hatred floods through me. “I’m sorry you had to see that, know about it,” he says. “But knockin’ up a sweet girl like that, what before yer married? Can’t risk havin’ a wicked man like that in these parts. Wonder why her daddy didn’t get to him first… Y’all will be a lot better off now-”

I spit on his face and he stops, eyes squeezing shut. He swipes it off of his face and flicks it into the dirt, glancing at me in stern agitation.

“Leave the damn girl be,” Ben grunts, gun tucked away once more. He grabs some duct tape and pulls some off, then comes closer and drops to his knees in front of my chest.

I try to bite him as he gets it onto my mouth, but it’s no use. Worse yet, he gets a fair few pieces on, effectively ruining every way I know of to get duct tape off of my face. “Aw, I see,” Poe says. “Benny’s finally gone and got himself a crush.”

Ben says nothing, just double checks the tape on my mouth before scooping me up bridal style. “Get cleaned up. Check on the girl and her babies. See if you can’t smooth it over for her- no tellin’ how much she heard in the house.”

“Right, right,” Poe grumbles. “Don’t you go doin’ nothin’-”

Ben sneers at Poe and doesn’t deign to respond. They walk into the woods, stepping clean over Snap as he cradles his leg.

“I’m bleedin’!” Snap snarls.

“Poor you,” Ben grunts. Snap kicks Ben with his good leg, and Ben stops dead, scowling out at nothing- and then, he stomps on Snap’s good leg, and I wince at the following sound.

Snapp screams and snarls curses and oaths, and Ben and Poe continue on like nothing happened. “Maybe the coyote’s’ll get him ‘fore we have to drag his sorry ass up to Maz,” Poe says.

“Fuckin’ good,” Ben grumbles.

I think I’m in shock. I quiver like a leaf in Ben’s arms.

My phone’s in the car. My phone’s in the car. How do I get to my phone, in the car?

I can’t think straight. My mind is racing. I look up at Ben, breathing heavy through my nose, and after a good long few seconds, he looks down at me.

His expression is almost soft, almost pensive. He studies me for a moment. Then, he looks out at the woods again. “You’ll be alright,” he says. “Rose, too, and the babies. Y’all are gonna be fine.”

My brow knits, jaw clenching. The tape is strained, and I can feel it tug on my skin.

Fine. They just killed-

They just killed Ari.

The tears hit me again then, and I’m sobbing and whimpering into the tape. Ben looks like you’d expect someone to, so close to someone who’s grieving- gentle and sad, reserved and thoughtful- but not like you’d expect the murderer to. Or, I suppose, it was on Poe’s head that he died- the shots had been a mercy. Not like you’d expect the accomplice to.

Ben walks me around the outside of the house. I don’t bother trying to scream; it’ll be too muffled. It’ll just make my throat raw, maybe ruining future opportunities to scream my ass off.

He sets me in the passenger seat of his truck, adjusting me until I’m comfortable, and I glare at him for it. He ignores me, fishing in my pocket for my keys, and then shuts the door gently before heading over to my car.

He gets my phone and looks around, finding nothing else of interest, and then he throws my phone. It lands against a thick stone fountain; he picks it up and does it again, over and over, until it’s clearly absolutely destroyed.

Numb, I stare at the scene. He tosses the phone into the bed of his truck, then opens the driver’s seat and climbs inside, pulling out his own keys.

“Gonna stay with me,” he grumbles. “I assume Rose’ll be stayin’ here, with the babies, so Maz can look after ‘em.”

He pulls back a bit, makes a u-turn, and sets out. He turns the radio on after a moment- surprise, surprise, it’s country rock- and relaxes into his seat.

After we reach the road, he pulls over to the side of it and looks over at me. “I can take off the tape now, if you’d prefer.”

I nod, but an icy chill runs through me.

That means that he either thinks we aren’t going to see anyone, or that anyone we see wouldn’t stop him.

He works the tape off quickly, but it’s a fairly painless endeavor. He crumbles it up and tucks it into a grocery bag dangling from the door of his glove department- after a moment, he opens it up and pulls out a pack of Marlboro blacks, then closes it again. He packs the cigarettes, opens them up, and pulls one out- flipping it over and tucking it back in. He pulls another one out, putting that one to his lips.

“You smoke?”

“No.”

He sets the pack on the console and locates a lighter, flicking it and lighting his cigarette. He rolls down his window and sticks his left hand out, starting the truck and pulling away.

He’s just tossing the cigarette out the window when we pull into another driveway. This house is a little bigger, and there is what might be a farm or a ranch- I don’t know the difference- out back. He parks the truck, then climbs out. He walks around, scoops me up, carries me to the front door, which is unlocked.

“Welcome home, sweetheart.”

Chapter Text

I say nothing. There’s nothing to say.

He carries me inside, kicking the door gently closed. He walks me through a hallway and I glance into a neat, cozy living room, then a neat, cozy dining room. He walks past an old, charming, sturdy set of stairs, through a cute little kitchen with butcher block countertops and sage green cabinets, then through a door to what might be a master suite.

“S’my room, usually,” he says. “Forgive the mess- I’ll tidy it up in a moment. You can have it- alone, ‘till we’re married. Gonna have to keep you tied up until then.”

He’s talking so casually, like all of this is normal. I don’t have the energy, or the escape plan, to do anything but lay there. For now.

He walks me into an en-suite and sets me down on the toilet. It’s nice, but the only window’s so small I’d be lucky to fit a single thigh through it, and the glass seems so thick that I’d be lucky to get the chance to try- not to mention how high it is. He drops to a knee, pulls up his jean leg, and pulls a knife out of his boot, slicing open the ropes until I toss them aside.

“What’s on your mind?” Ben asks.

I give a dark, mirthless laugh, and he gives a single nod.

“Don’t change nothin’,” he whispers. “But I wanted to just run y’all off, no harm done.”

Something bitter courses through me. “No, it doesn’t change anything.”

He puts the knife away again, then gets to his feet. “I’ll set somethin’ on the vanity while you’re in the shower,” he says. “To sleep in. I’ll be waitin’ in the bedroom for ya.”

I stare at him, silent. He gives another single nod, then heads out. I sit there for a few moments, and I can barely hear him picking up like he said.

After a little bit of that, I get up and undress, because I might as well shower. I’m dirty as hell, and there’s no getting out of this yet.

They’re not gonna hurt the twins. They said they wouldn’t hurt Rose. Those are your only concerns right now. You’ll find an opening, you’ll take it, and you’ll find those fucking babies, first and foremost.

I keep talking to myself in my head as I turn the water on. It’s the only way to keep myself sane, and focused.

I get in the shower. I scrub until the dirt is gone and I’m scrubbing at skin, and I scrub a bit more. At one point, the door opens, and Ben tells me there’s a towel waiting, too, before closing the door again. When I get out of the shower, there’s also toothpaste, mouthwash, and a brush on the vanity- a towel, an old flannel. There’s one toothbrush, in the holder, and I resign myself to using it.

Clean, dressed, and with my short hair fairly dry, I step out of the bathroom. His flannel brushes my knees, and it’s shapeless on me. He’s sitting on the bed- he looks up at me, then stands. “Rose thinks he went missing, thinks you’re at the sheriff’s office. For the record.”

I walk towards the bed. It’s big, four posters and some currently open drapes. I crawl into bed and he’s got more rope waiting nearby- gentler rope. White and satiny. He ties my knees together, a bit looser, then ties one of my ankles to one of the bottom posts by a long-ish lead.

Not long enough to let me anywhere near one of the windows, though. Just long enough that sleep might still be a little bit comfortable.

He sits close to me and I tense; he leans in and a suck in a breath, scowling. He studies me for a moment, then leans in and presses a soft kiss into my cheek, anyway.

“I’m gonna take a shower, too,” he grumbles, forehead finding mine. “I hope the noise don’t keep you up. In case it doesn’t- goodnight, sweetheart.”

“I’m not your fucking sweetheart.”

“Mmm,” he grumbles. He presses a chaste kiss into my lips and it takes all I have not to bite.

He pulls away, picks up a pile of clothes from a nearby armchair, and heads into the bathroom. I stare at the ceiling and listen to the water. A little while after it turns off, he emerges, dressed in a set of plaid pajamas.

“Close the curtains on the bed,” I say.

“Ask nicely, darlin’.”

I scowl. I don’t ask nicely. He starts walking towards the door-

“Goo-”

“Please close the curtains.”

He pauses, then turns. “Alright, Rey.” Ben closes all but one of them- the one closest to me, then leans over. “Now, give me a kiss, or I’m openin’ ‘em back up.”

I close my eyes and fight a scowl. I get a handle on myself.

Play along and get out. Just play along and get out.

I open my eyes and nod. He comes closer, eyeing me like he’s afraid I’ll pounce- and I would, if not for those babies- and I kiss him gently on the lips. He cups my cheek and kisses me again. “Goodnight, Rey.”

“Goodnight,” I manage.

He pulls away, closes the final bit, and I hear him walk away and close the door behind him.

It’s a restless night. I cry too much. I’m terrified.

They killed him because he and Rose weren’t married yet.

Ari had asked. Rose had said ‘not yet’ until she was pregnant. They’d been together for four fucking years.

They were gonna get married right away- they were supposed to- but Rose wanted to drink at her wedding, so they pushed it off.

If they mention it to Rose, she’s never going to stop blaming herself.

He didn’t even get to meet the twins.

The memory of what happened doesn’t start replaying until I’ve nearly cried myself to sleep. Everything hurts- aches- and my brain just wants to shut off.

It feels like it takes an eternity to finally manage it, but the nightmares that follow are almost worse.

I can’t take this, I think when I wake up. I’ll marry Ben today if it means he won’t leave me alone with my thoughts again.

I lay there and think about nothing- when I start to, I aggressively think about how I’m not going to think until it quiets down again. It’s not too long before I hear noise in the kitchen.

“Ben!” I say loudly. “Ben!”

The door opens in moments. “What do you need, Rey?” Ben’s voice is low and groggy, even deeper than usual and slightly more gravelly.

“What time is it?”

“Five-oh-seven.”

“Can you untie me now? Please… Dear?”

There’s a pause, and then he’s moving closer. He opens up one side of the curtains, taking the time to tie them gently to the posts. He’s wearing the same pajamas as last night, his hair tousled, face still plump with sleep. “We’re- getting married?”

He looks at me then, studying my face. “Yessum.”

“When?”

“Why?” he asked, voice a little strained. Rather than untie me, he sits down next to me.

“I had- a bad… Night. I don’t like sleeping alone.”

He glances over at me, and I must look like hell. “Yeah, you did,” he breathes. “Soon as you want, I suppose. Was thinkin’ we’d have to forge the papers, or somethin’, and that takes time- but, if you’ll do it, we can get on that in the next couple o’ days.”

It’s shocking to me that I don’t have to convince him it’s not a trap. We sit there and look at each other for a while, but our eyes rarely meet.

He seems like… Like a decent guy. Maybe it’s the town. Maybe he just thinks this is normal. It’s a hell of an assumption to make- but with the strangeness in the diner, and how many people were in on just what happened to Ari-

I wince, and Ben blinks-

… Maybe it’s the town. Maybe Ben’s alright. Maybe I can appeal to him. Maybe we can get out, and he can- I don’t know, get whatever kind of help is offered to someone who was raised to think this is normal.

I wanted to just run y’all off, no harm done.

Either way- maybe, it won’t be so bad that it’s him I have to be around before I can get us out, with his help or alone.

Ben unties the rope then, tucking it into a nightstand drawer. I sit up and stretch my legs over the bed; my hips and knees are a bit stiff from being tied straight all night. His eyes take in my legs.

“What’s the plan?” I ask, deciding it’s best to observe and behave for a bit.

I’ll run at the first opening, but I can’t be too careless and think there’s an opening when there isn’t one. Not when I’ve got no clue in hell how Rose would get two newborns out of this town all by her lonesome- and I don’t know what she’s going through right now.

“I gotta work the ranch,” he says, nodding towards the windows still hidden by the drapes on the other side of the bed. “You can stay inside, locked up tight, or you can come with me. I’ll get you a chair, but you’ll be able to move around a bit and get some fresh air. Maybe, if you’re good, you can hop on the horse with me when that’s needed.”

“I don’t wanna be alone,” I breathe.

I’ve got to appeal to him, but it’s gotta be natural. Slow. I don’t get the feeling that Ben’s an idiot, or easily misled. But that much is true- desperately, I do not want to be locked up in this house alone.

He gives a slow nod. “Alright, darlin’. I’m gonna grab some clothes, then go change- you can borrow somethin’. Old clothes that’re too small for me are in there-” he points at a closet. “You’ll probably have more luck scroungin’ up some bottoms from there. I’ll get you some new clothes today, though- we’ll head on into town after the ranch is all taken care of. Didn’t get a chance to clean yesterday’s, and I apologize for that, but you’re a strong little thing,” his eyes move slowly over my body, looking almost reverent of it, and that makes me shiver. “Couple that little wrestlin’ match with workin’ yesterday, too, and I’s dog tired last night.”

“Thank you,” I breathe, and his eyes find mine again. Still so intense, but gentler. He’s already fond of me.

I suppose that’s a good thing, considering he’s going to marry me. Oh, God.

He leans in slowly, setting his forehead on mine, and I stiffen and shiver again. His eyes are studying me.

They’re the damndest shades of brown. Whiskey, or amber, in the center- tinted with gold. At the edges, a bit paler- gold and just a tinge of green tint. I take the leap and I kiss him first, and he rises up slightly and kisses me again, deeper. Our lips move slowly, languidly, wet plops that help me to feel mindless. He’s good, and it’s all too easy to lose myself in the few moments we spend like that.

He pulls away first, clearing his throat, a little stiffer- including beneath his pajama bottoms. He’s a big guy, but I can barely notice the tent. He looks away and studies the wall for a while, then gets up and finds himself some clothes.

He pauses then. “You’re not alone,” he says after a moment- his voice is gentle, but it sounds like the thought bothers him. “Not anymore, at least.”

“Neither are you,” I breathe. I can only see about a quarter of his face- and, damn him, it’s even better than his profile, the curves of his cheek and brow- but I see him close his eyes and waver for a moment, like he’s savoring the words.

He clutches the clothes tighter and heads towards the door. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

“Okay.”

It takes a minute, but I manage to find clothes that fit well enough to pass. The shirt’s easy- his baggy shirts don’t bother me- but the bottoms, of course, take a bit of searching through that closet. Some of them must be really old, though- some of them must be way too small for him, and I make do, then walk into the kitchen. He’s pouring a cup of coffee into an old mug that looks like it was broken and glued back together with skill and care. “You want some coffee, darlin’?”

“No, thank you,” I say. We moved to America when I was a kid, but I never did get into coffee. Ari drinks it like it’s nothing, all day, every day, unless his anxiety’s acting up-

Drank, I suppose.

I shudder and lurch closer to Ben. He wraps an arm around me and tugs me into his side, stroking his big hand along my arm. I watch him as he sips at his black coffee, still standing in front of the pot. He sets it down after a moment, then turns towards me, leaning against the counter, hand coming to rest on my waist. “You want tea? I got a few o’ them hot ones. I can boil up some water for you.”

“Yes, please,” I say, and he nods. He presses a kiss into my cheek, then grabs a mustard kettle and runs it under the sink before throwing it on the stove.

“Got a few options for breakfast,” he grumbles as he does. “I usually make eggs, toast, and bacon- could have corned beef hash. I got grits… Ah, my ma taught me how to make ‘eggs in a hole’, which is just toast with a little circle cut out, the egg cooked in the hole. I ain’t got the stuff for biscuits an’ gravy- gotta get shoppin’ again…”

“Whatever you want is fine by me,” I say.

He looks over at me, a little frown on his face. “What do you want?”

I nibble on my lower lip. “I want you to pick.”

He blinks, frown deepening, but he gathers up some things. “We can have corned beef hash, then, I s’pose. Maybe eggs in a hole, too.”

The kettle starts singing, so I pull it off the stove; he opens a cabinet door and takes out a few boxes with a fair few bags of tea in each. I make jasmine tea and add my sugar, and as I wait for it to stew, he starts cooking.

“I can help,” I say.

He nods, then motions towards the sink.

Breakfast and it's making are slow and easy and quiet. We carry it into a little breakfast nook overlooking the back, half-hidden from the rest of the kitchen by the pantry, and we sit down across from one another and eat slowly. It’s still dark out, but I can see the pigs- or hogs, again, I don’t know the difference- as they meander about lazily.

“It’s good,” I say. “Thank you.”

“Ain’t gotta thank me,” he grumbles. “But you’re welcome, sweetheart.”

Right. We’re engaged, I guess. I take another bite.

After we’re done, he puts away the leftovers. I start washing dishes, and he looks over as if he’s surprised, but when the food is all tucked away, he starts drying and unloading the dish rack in silence. “When can I see Rose?”

“Be a while, I reckon,” he says softly. “Apologies. We don’t want you scarin’ her. But I bet she wouldn’t mind you takin’ them babies for a bit one of these days, givin’ her a little break as she… Copes.”

“She gonna be married off to the nearest bachelor, too?”

Ben stiffens. He’s a little rough with the dishes now, but nothing crazy. “Finn’s taken a likin’ to her,” he says, voice… Harsher. But contained. “And there ain’t too many bachelors who’re terribly willin’ to raise another man’s babies. So, yeah, I reckon she is.”

“I didn’t mean to make you angry,” I say, choosing my words very carefully. “This is just- very odd, by the standards I’m used to.”

He relaxes slightly and stops terrorizing the dishes, but his expression is still grumpy. “I bet it is,” he mutters. “How it’s supposed to be, though.”

“How is it supposed to be? Elaborate- enlighten me.” I’m careful to keep the bitter edge out of my voice, off of my face.

“Marriage? Straight-forward and simple. A man sees a woman, an’ they want each other. They get married and go about their business. A man takes care of his wife- a woman looks after her husband. God willin’, they get a few babies to look after together.”

“What about gay people?” I blurt before I can think not to.

“What?”

“Gay people? Homosexuals?”

He blinks, then shrugs. “Don’t rightly know. Wouldn’t go askin’ other people in town about that, if I was you.”

“Would you castrate and kill them?” I say. I’m in too deep. Can’t back out now, or he’ll know how carefully I’m trying to pick my words.

His lips press together, a dry and tired look in his eyes. “I wouldn’t do that to anyone,” he grumbles. “Like I said, I’dda just run him off. What others do- it ain’t my business. That’s between them an’ God.”

“If someone was gay, and they passed through, would you run them off?”

Ben gives a heavy sigh. “Yeah. Bet there’s a few folks in town that’d do worst if I didn’t get the chance to run ‘em off first.” He looks over at me. “Why? Are you gay?”

“I’m bi.”

He looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to tell him what that means. I let myself scowl into the sudsy water. “I like boys and girls.”

“Mm. Keep that to yourself.”

There’s no judgment. He doesn’t seem phased at all. He just finishes drying a pan and opens up a lower cabinet, tucking it neatly inside. We’re quiet for a few moments. “If I wasn’t around, and Poe had wanted- wanted to make Ari suffer,” it’s a hard thing to say. “Would you have let him?”

“No. I’dda stopped him sooner if you hadn’t gone at him with a machete, if I didn’t have to hold you down.”

I prickle and freeze. “You could have fucking told me,” I snarl.

His eyes soften, sadden. “I’m sorry, Rey,” he breathes. “I wasn’t thinkin’ straight. Don’t change a thing, but that’s how it happened.”

I’m crying as I finish the dishes. He stops drying to shift himself, standing behind me, wrapping his arms around me, and goddamn him that it’s a comfort, so I lean into him and sob bitterly. When they’re all cleaned, he scoops me up and sets on the counter, wipes my tears and kisses my cheek until I’m not crying anymore. Only then does he get back to drying and putting things away.

After that, he gently scoops me up and carries me through the bedroom into the bathroom. We brush our teeth and hair; he pulls his back into a manbun, loose strands falling out. He starts french braiding my hair and I watch him through the mirror. He’s good at it, which is surprising, because my hair is short and I can never manage it.

“Where’d you learn to do that?”

He looks a little confused by the question. “Ah… I dunno. My ma, I s’pose.”

He takes my hand then and laces our fingers together, then leads me around the other side of the stairs to a mudroom, a half bath and laundry just off of it, and through the back door. He grabs a wicker folding chair and some rope with his free hand, carrying it with us wherever we go. He’ll stop to do something, set the chair down, and connect me loosely to the chair. I’ve got space to move- probably a good few yards- but the chair seems heavy enough that running would be difficult. Quietly, he walks me through each of his chores.

The sun’s finally finished rising when six people show up.

“An’ who’s this?” one of them says.

“My girl,” Ben says. “Name’s Rey. Long story. Mind yer business, all o’ ya. Rey, this is Victor, Ulysses, Carter, Kurt, Alek, and Trey Knight. Some cousins, some brothers. They help out around here- be seein’ ‘em a fair bit.”

“Why’s she tied up?” asks Alek, the skinniest and smallest and probably the youngest of the Knight cousins-and-brothers. He seems no older than fourteen, fifteen.

“So she don’t get far,” Ben says simply. “I said, mind your damn business, boy.”

At what might be noon, everything stops for lunch. Ben sets the chair and rope on the back porch, and everyone has to kick off their shoes before going inside. Ben and I make sandwiches, and some of the Knights complain.

“Quit yer bitchin’,” grunts Kurt, possibly the oldest- maybe a few years older than Ben. “It’s food, and they’re makin’ it for us. I oughtta whoop yer asses.”

“Mama’s gonna have yer hide,” Ulysses snarls in Carter’s ear, who seems maybe seventeen or eighteen. Carter scowls at that.

“Shh,” Victor says, and the boys fall into polite silence again.

After lunch, it’s back outside. Ben leaves the chair on the porch, though, and leads me to a few big, glorious horses.

I stare at them. They’re big, and muscular, and a little bit more… Frightening… Than I’d have assumed a horse to be.

One of them is the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. This one is a little smaller- maybe still growing. She is, for lack of a better description, calico- white fur speckled with grey, a few patches of tawny, a few dark grey patches, a couple black spots. Her mane and tail are also multicolored.

“Can I-...?”

Ben looks over from whatever he’s doing- gathering stuff to ready a horse, I suppose. “Sure. Just be gentle, and they’ll be gentle, too.”

I walk closer to the calico foal(?), and she neighs softly. She sounds curious. I touch her… Snout? Her nose? I know nothing about horses. She shimmies a little, pushing in closer, nuzzling into my face with her nose.

I don’t know why I’ve decided she’s a she, but I have.

“What’s her name?”

“That’s Padme,” he says. “She was born on my grandmother’s last birthday, before she passed.”

“How old is she?”

“She’s eighteen months old.”

“Sorry about your grandmother.”

“Thank you.”

Padme is beautiful and sweet. I nuzzle back into her soft fur.

“Her ma- she was named Leia, after my ma- passed a little while after she was born,” Ben says. “She’s the only girl we got, now. When she’s bigger, she’s gonna be a broodmare.”

“A what?”

Ben chuckles. He starts getting a big, black horse ready to be ridden, probably. “She’s gonna have some babies, when she’s old enough.” I watch him, still curled into Padme and running my hands along her coat. “This is Vader- this big feller here. He’s already fond of her- she’s old enough now, I suppose, but it’s safest to wait until they’re a few years old, when they’re done growin’.”

Padme licks my shoulder. “I’m in love with her.”

Ben looks over at me with a big grin, and my heart stops. He’s got dimples. He’s the most beautiful man imaginable. “Yeah? Me, too. I’ll teach how you ride- probably get you learnin’ on Revan, there-” he points to a big grey horse. “‘Cause he’s awful fond of girls, gentle with ‘em. A bit less obedient for me an’ the Knights, but if yer on him, he’ll listen, and he’s good when he does. Vader’s a bit- eager. Might scare ya, or be too much. An’ Maul- there-” he points to the last horse, ruddy and hellish. “He’s a damn prick. By the time you’ve got the hang of it, little Padme’ll be old enough for you to ride. If you knew how, she’s big enough that I’d let you ride her now- best if just one of you’s learning at a time, though.”

Maybe, he’ll help me get away. Maybe, we’ll move to a different place with his big, beautiful horses and his big, beautiful smile, and everything could be alright.

I decide there’s no harm in the delusion until there’s proof it couldn’t happen. Besides, it’ll be easier if I like Ben. Easier to play along and find a way out if I’m calm, comfortable, clear-headed.

“C’mere, darlin’,” he grumbles some time later, and I give Padme a kiss before walking towards him. He gets on the horse- Vader- and offers some tips, then reaches out a hand and helps me up. I sit in front of him, and I breathe in sharply once I’m there, looking out at the neck and head of a horse, upon which I am sitting.

Oh, jeez.

“Uu-um…”

He wraps his arms around me, finding the… Reins? “Don’t be nervous, sweetheart,” he whispers in my ear. “I got ya both. I know what I’m doin’- grew up on this ranch. Me and Vader been close since he was born- I was there. Ain’t nothin’ scary gonna happen.”

I lean back into Ben and place my hands on Vader’s neck. “Okay…”

I don’t really pay attention to what he’s doing. I just watch Vader and his big, daunting muscles as he moves, gleaming in the sunlight, until it’s time to dismount once more. After a few more chores, the Knights depart and Ben guides me back into the house, his warm hand laid on a part of me too low to be considered back, too high to be considered my bum.

“We’ll hop in the shower- ah… One by one, for now. You can go first, o’ course- I’ll wash your clothes while you do, so you don’t wander into town with yer clothes drippin’ off of ya. We’ll nab you some stuff, then go to the market. You been good…” he pauses in the mudroom, setting his dirty boots that he’d kicked off outside in the wash basin in the laundry room. He studies me. “Rose’s at Maz’s, still. We can visit, if you’d like, but there’ll be me, an’ Maz, an’ Chewie. You tell Rose, she’s just gonna freak. Ain’t nobody gonna get hurt,” he says. “But even if you’re plannin’ on runnin’, you won’t be able to tonight, an’ you’ll just put her through hell tryin’ to tell her.”

I say nothing.

I know they don’t want me to tell her, which makes me want to tell her. But they’re right. Even with my plan- running away- it’ll go best if she doesn’t know, not until we’re safe, because she’d (understandably) freak the fuck out. Probably accidentally jeopardize it. A level-headed Rose would agree to not be told. Ari’d kill me if I told her.

She can’t know until we’re out of this fucking town. Until those babies are out of this fucking town.

Damn them. Damn them all.

“Okay,” is all I say. He studies me- his eyes get a little more intense. His nostrils flare. He’s looking for something- anything- and finding nothing.

I glance away, letting the forlornness peek through just a little. When he doesn’t move, I start walking towards the bathroom, and after a moment, he’s moving, too.

He opens a closet and pulls out a towel, then takes long strides to catch up to me with ease.

I shower. He showers. We wait for my clothes to be done in the dryer- he mentions he hand-washed them to save time- and then, I get dressed. His hair is down again, and neat. He’s changed into clean clothes.

Me and my big fucking mouth. I usually call them husband and wife- easier. She’s got the ring. If only I hadn’t called her his fiance that one time-

Stop it.

I know it’s not on me. I know I wouldn’t want Rose blaming herself like this. If only we had stopped an hour back, farther up in Georgia, in a different town. If only, if only, if only. It doesn’t change anything, and it’s not on us. As Ben walks me out to the truck, I lean into him, and he wraps his arm around me.

He helps me into it, then climbs into the driver’s seat, and away we go. He buys me an awful lot of clothes. It’s all a bit more rustic than I’m used to, but most of it’s pretty cute, too. Victor’s wife works at the little clothing outlet, the only one in town. Her name is Jessika, and she’s pretty and nice. We go grocery shopping- and it’s like we are a couple. We bicker over little things. He makes sure to get me stuff I’ll like, tells me what we have that he makes at the ranch- meat, cheese, milk, eggs, and such. The domesticity is shocking and I feel surreal. Alek’s girlfriend rings up our groceries. She’s a little slow and fairly aloof. On the ride home to drop everything off, I ask about that- Alek having a girlfriend when it’s supposed to be ‘straight-forward and simple’.

“They’re kids still,” he grumbles. “He’s fourteen, an’ she just turned fifteen. Both of ‘em just finished the ninth grade. Iffin they’re still together in a few years- an’ I doubt they will be- they’ll get hitched. Rest assured, they ain’t gettin’ no alone time. No funny business. Jus’ kids doin’ their homework together, holdin’ hands when they go to the movies with their friends.”

“How old are you?” I ask suddenly.

“Twenty-nine. You’re nineteen, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“A little bit of a gap,” he mutters. “Don’t bother me. Does it bug you?”

“No.”

He’s silent for a while. “In a little while, once you’re settled,” he says. “There’s a few places what are hirin’. Could always stay home with me, though. Maybe help out- ain’t gotta- or maybe just follow me around sometimes, mess with the animals sometimes… Whatever you’d like. Did you have any plans, job-wise?”

“No,” I say softly.

He reaches over and grips my knee. “You just let me know what you want, when you’re settled. Lots o’ girls in town get bored stayin’ home, ‘till they’re mamas. You’re young yet- I understand if you’d like a few years ‘fore we get to that. We’re in a nice spot, though- I’m a rancher, home all day and I make good money. Could work if you wanna, after the babies unlatch- more, when they’re old enough for school. Or, you could stay home, ‘cause I make enough for us to be comfortable.”

I don’t say anything. I put my hand on his- mine’s so small in comparison- and he gets a bright little look in eyes. He leans back into his seat, and he looks quite a bit more comfortable. Something resembling a smile lingers on his mouth, but I don’t get a flash of his dimples again.

“We have to bury him.”

The brightness and the smile fade. He nods slowly. “We will,” he says softly. “He’s all- all looked-after. We’ll give it a few weeks, maybe a month or two, ‘fore someone ‘finds him’.”

And then, I’m crying again. Ben carries me and all of my clothes with ease, setting me and the clothes in the bedroom. He locks the door when he goes; I can hear him enter the kitchen shortly thereafter, then unlock it. I weep into a pillow, squeezing it. It doesn’t take long until he’s laid down next to me, his warm weight a painful comfort, his delicate hand a slight and a salvation as it strokes along my back with the utmost tenderness.

I’m too emotional to keep myself in check.

“We can just go,” I whimper. “Away from the people that did that to him! Away from the people that are alright with it! We can take Rose, and the babies, and your animals, and go! I’ll marry you. I’ll marry you. We’ll be simple and straight-forward and far the fuck away from here.”

He doesn’t reply. He gets on top of me, though, laying carefully, and wraps his arms around me, nuzzling into me. I wrap my arms around his and I weep for a while longer.

Eventually, I’m done. A while after that, we get up and put the groceries away. Then, we’re getting into the truck again.

“Gonna stop by Father Snoke’s house after,” he says softly, eventually. “See about gettin’ us married tomorrow. It’s a Sunday- we usually do our weddin’s then, an’ I don’t particularly wanna wait a week. Lord knows I shouldn’t be layin’ on you like that, such as we are, but I ain’t… Can’t just leave you by your lonesome with your… Fear and grief and tears,” he stares out at the road, voice growing more and more desolate; it’s raw and devastated at the end. I fight more tears and reach out; he blinks at my hand, pulls his left hand back into the vehicle and sets it in the wheel, and takes my hand, squeezing.

We stop at Maz’s. My Jeep’s still there.

“I want my car.”

“Yeah. I oughtta get that home.”

He gets out, helps me out, and we go inside.

Rose is sitting on the couch, a baby on either side of her, both fast asleep. She looks up and her face twists the moment she sees me- she hurries forward, and ben lurches closer to the couch, the babies. Rose throws herself into me and cries into my shoulder, and I hold her and stare at Ben as he looks at Arizona, eyes… Curious. Sweet.

“Rey,” Rose whimpers.

I don’t say anything. There’s nothing to say. I hold her and I stare, feeling numb and terrified and bitter and pained.

“Why the fuck would he wander into the woods?” she whimpers.

“So we couldn’t see him getting sick.”

“Why the fuck wouldn’t he go the goddamn bathroom!”

“Backyard was closer. Probably didn’t know where it was- the bathroom.”

“... Why didn’t he come back?”

I shudder and lean into her, crying, trying not to let her see- but I know she hears. “He’s a fucking dumbass,” I force out, and it burns, but it’s what I’d say if I believed what Rose did. “Got lost, or saw a coyote, or some shit. He’s fine. Probably pissed himself. Maybe he climbed a tree, and he’s stuck.”

Rose doesn’t laugh. She quivers like a leaf and I hold her, trying not to lose it again. “I can’t lose him,” she whimpers.

Maz, Kay, the hairy man, and Poe walk in. Rose can’t see, so I level my lost lethal look at Poe.

“I should’ve married him when he asked!” Rose all but screams.

Poe winces, glancing away.

“You were married, in any way that matters. Law isn’t shit. You’re Rose fucking Hux,” I say, hugging her closer. “And I’ll skin anyone who says otherwise.”

“We are married!” Rose insists, shrill. She pulls back to look at me, and I look down. “Are, Rey! What the fuck is were?!”

“I’m sorry,” I force out through clenched teeth. “This time, I’m scared, too.”

Rose lets out a sob, then drags me closer again. She nods, hugging me. “I know,” she breathes. “I know. I’m sorry. I know. I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be.”

Richie is fussing. Ben glances at Rose, then the baby, then me, like he’s looking for permission, and I nod. Ben scoops the boy up and rocks him gently, then walks closer to Maz, asking something I can’t hear for Rose’s sobbing and my heavy breathing. He ends up handing Richie to Maz, then moves closer to us. Again, he looks at me as if for permission, then tentatively, he hugs us both.

Eventually, we’re settled. Arizona starts crying, so I pick her up and change her diaper.

“I’m all tapped out on milk,” Rose whispers, voice raw from crying. “They’re greedy. I know- I know you said it seemed odd, but there’s no formula…”

I tense up. Everyone’s looking at me. I clear my throat.

“Why are you people in our business?” I force out.

“Rey…” Rose whispers softly, meeting my eyes. She looks out at all of them. “After I started lactating- Rey did, too. Not as much, but… The doctor said it happens sometimes.”

“I don’t- even know how- to do that,” I grumble.

Rose reaches behind me to unclasp my bra, and I tense. She tugs it down. “Are you still…?”

“Yeah,” I mumble. I reach under my shirt and probe at a nipple, turning crimson, but at least they’re all looking away politely. “Yeah.”

Rose half takes off my shirt, still covering me but making it easy to get Arizona to my nipple. I sigh heavily as make a face as she latches on. I’m holding her, and Rose is… Touching, guiding. But then, it’s all said and done, and Arizona drinks.

I do not like this.

I think I hate this.

Yep, I hate it.

“Boy’s sleepin’ again,” Maz says after a few moments. “I’m’unna throw him in the crib.”

“Thank you,” Rose says. “So much- for everything.”

Maz smiles. “You’re quite welcome, Rose.”

Ben sits next to me, after a while. The hairy man- Chewie, I’ve gathered- and Poe have disappeared. Kay is sitting in an armchair, crocheting.

“To the town of Agua Fria rode a stranger one fine day,” I sing softly, looking down through the gap in my shirt at Arizona’s face pressed into my breast. Rose joins in, just as quiet, and Kay looks up with a smile. “Hardly spoke to folks around him, didn’t have much to say. No one dared to ask his business, no one dared to make a slip- for the stranger there among them had a big iron on his hip, a big iron on his hip. It was early in the morning when he rode into the town. He came riding from the south side slowly lookin’ all around… He’s an outlaw loose and running, came the whispers from each lip, and he’s here to do some business with the big iron on his hip- the big iron on his hip. In this town there lived an outlaw by the name of Texas Red- many men had tried to take him, and that many men were dead. He was vicious and a killer though a youth of twenty-four, and the notches on his pistol numbered one and nineteen more- one and nineteen more. Now the stranger started talking, made it plain to folks around, he was an Arizona ranger, wouldn’t be too long in town. He came here to take an outlaw back, alive or maybe dead, and he said it didn’t matter he was after Texas Red… After Texas Red. Wasn’t long before the story was relayed to Texas Red, but the outlaw didn’t worry- men that tried before were dead. Twenty men had tried to take him, twenty men had made a slip, twenty-one would be the ranger with a big iron on his hip- a big iron on his hip. The morning passed so quickly, it was time for them to meet. It was twenty past eleven when they walked out in the street. Folks were watching from the windows, everybody held their breath. They knew this handsome ranger was about to meet his death- about to meet his death. There was forty feet between them when they stopped to make their play, and the swiftness of the ranger is still talked about today. Texas Red had not cleared leather ‘fore a bullet fairly ripped, and the ranger’s aim was deadly with the big iron on hip- big iron on his hip. It was over in a moment and the folks had gathered round. There before them lay the body of the outlaw on the ground. Oh, he might have went on livin’ but he made one fatal slip- when he tried to match the ranger with the big iron on his hip- big iron on his hip. Big iron, big iron… When he tried to match the ranger with the big iron on his hip- big iron on his hip.”

Arizona was asleep by the time we finished, a stream of milk leaking over her cheek. I swiped it up and ducked her carefully under my shirt, passing her back to Rose just long enough to get my clothes on once more. Then, I cradled the sleeping girl in my arms, looking down at her beautiful face.

He didn’t get to meet his Arizona Ranger, or his Richie Star. I don’t cry this time, just look down at her in numb, empty silence.

“She kinda looks like you,” Rose says softly. “If you were ginger and Asian.”

I quirk a brow. There are whispers of what I looked like as a baby in her face, but I am her father’s sister, after all. “Richie looks like Ari.”

“Yeah, but he’s got my eyes,” Rose says softly. “He’s Harry Potter.”

I chuckle softly, rolling my eyes. Rose is obsessed with Harry Potter. “I’ll get a pocket knife, carve a lightning bolt into his forehead-”

Rose scoffs quietly, and it’s her turn to roll her eyes.

“You get him the dorky glasses.”

“They’re not dorky, they’re cute! Mine look like that!”

I smirk and say nothing. She looks like a dork in her reading glasses- a cute dork, but still. “I can steal them for the night, if you’re making me breastfeed, anyway.”

“I don’t think I can part with them yet,” Rose breathes, and I nod slowly.

We linger until Richie starts crying and Rose gets him; I put Ara in the crib and take Richie, feeding him with my other nipple. I don’t make as much as she does, but hopefully, what I do make can help out. When he’s asleep again, Rose puts him in a bassinet and then comes out again, and we curl up together on half of the couch. I tuck my feet into Ben’s lap, and he silently rubs them. Rose watches him for a moment, then looks up at me. I shrug.

“We oughtta get goin’,” Ben says softly.

“You should stay,” Rose breathes, half asleep. “Stay the night.”

“Busy, Rosie,” I whisper. She blinks, then nods. I kiss her cheek. “You look after my babies, and you let me worry.”

“Right. I’ll try.”

“You’ve got this.”

“So do you.”

I don’t know about that, but I let her think so.

Chapter Text

Father Snoke lives in a big, ancient looking home in the heart of town. Ben parks in the driveway, then looks over at me, a little grim.

“He’s an entitled old bastard,” Ben breathes. “An’ his wife’s about as cold as I’ve ever known a woman to be. You’ll call him ‘sir’ or ‘Father Snoke’ an’ nothin’ else. His wife is ‘ma’am’ or ‘Mrs. Snoke’- preferably ma’am. Don’t speak unless spoken to. Try to look… Simple, I suppose. Easiest way to avoid trouble, I’ll bet.”

I blink, then give a slow nod. He eyes what I’d changed into before going to visit Rose- a modest, casual sweater and a flowing skirt. He looks into my eyes for a moment longer, then gives a brief nod. He tosses his ballcap onto the dash, then gets out, opens my door, and helps me out, and then we’re on the porch and he’s knocking.

“Stay behind me. Don’t touch me, at all.”

“Okay…”

A woman even taller than Ben, somehow, answers. Her hair is short and neat, dyed platinum, her roots barely present and color indistinguishable. She’s maybe forty- fifty, if she’s got good genes. She wears a plain shirt beneath a cozy, handmade-looking cardigan, long and flowing, and modest, well-fitting jeans. She gives the faintest of smiles, looking at Ben as if her cold expression slices clean through his head. “Why, hello, Mr. Solo.”

“Hello, Mrs. Snoke,” Ben says with a respectful nod. “How are you doin’ this fine afternoon?”

“Oh, as well as ever,” she says. “And yourself?” Her accent is thick, but her words are clear and precise. Her voice is sickly sugary, and, well, as cold as ice.

“I’m doing alright, ma’am, thank you. I was wondering if I might be able to have a word with Father Snoke.”

Mrs. Snoke smiles brightly, then takes a step back. “Our door is open to you anytime, Mr. Solo- come right in, please.”

Ben steps inside, glancing back at me, and I tentatively follow. I feel sort of as if I shouldn’t look at her, but she looks at me and gives a slightly larger, even icier smile, and I return with one as sweet as I can muster. Her eyes narrow and she looks me up and down condescendingly, but not so cruel, so I assume that I’ve succeeded.

I channel whatever daft, sweet little girl-next-door vibes I can, trying to look ‘simple’ and polite.

“Have a seat in the parlor,” Mrs. Snoke says, leading us into a nearby room. “And I’ll fetch my husband.”

“Thank you kindly.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Ben sits, and I follow suit a reasonable distance away. She walks off and I look at him; he gives a brief nod, then musses with his hair. “Don’t stare at him,” he whispers.

“Why would I?”

“Car crash.”

I blink. I still wouldn’t stare, no matter what he looks like.

It’s not long before Mrs. Snoke is returning, following behind a man I assume to be Father Snoke- and he’s even taller than his wife, probably even taller than Chewie, who is a damned giant of a man. There must be something in the water out here.

“Ben!” Snoke greets brightly, grinning. He sits down on a loveseat, and his wife sits beside him, ankles crossed and hands in her lap. I glance down at my own body; I’m sitting quite the same. At least I’ve managed that.

“Father Snoke,” Ben replies. “Thank you for having me on such short notice.”

“Why, of course,” Snoke says. “You’re always welcome here. What can I do for you, my boy?”

Ben motions to me. “This is Rey Hux, the sister of the man that Dameron placed judgment upon,” he says, and I stiffen slightly, eyes falling to my lap. “I would like to marry her. She’s got no kin to ask. I was wondering what the best course of action to take would be.”

“Miss Hux, is that it?” Snoke asks, and he’s looking at me, so I give my best doe eyes and look at him.

“Yes, sir,” I say softly- not whispering.

He smiles, studying me. “Where in the world is your father?”

“He’s passed away, sir.”

“Mm. Apologies,” Snoke says. “Uncle? Grandfather?”

“My grandfather is passed, sir. I… It’s just me, now.” I can’t keep the grief out of my voice.

His blue eyes shimmer with dark amusement. He’s got a sickening, pleased smile on his face. I hate this man more than anything except for Poe Dameron. “I’m so very sorry about your brother,” he says. “It must be difficult to remain steady and afloat with such a wicked man as your only kin.”

I stiffen and look away, willing myself to look pained and grieved and not righteously enraged. I swallow. “Thank you, sir,” I manage.

“If it’s only her,” Snoke says after a moment, looking back at Ben, who looks vaguely concerned. “Then she’s yours for the taking, of course. But… Are you entirely sure you’d want a woman like her?”

I will myself not to react to that. It is difficult.

“Forgive me, Father Snoke,” he says quietly. “What do you mean by that?”

“An outsider, born and raised in filth and sin,” he says matter-of-factly. “Is she even whole?”

Ben clears his throat, then glances at me. “Sinner or not,” he says. “I covet her. It is out of my hands whether or not she ought to be my wife.”

I play it cool. I think. Somehow, I’m pretty sure I don’t react to that, either.

“Ah,” Snoke says in a low, serpentine voice. “After all of these years, Benjamin- finally, you’ve managed to sin.”

Ben looks down. “Of course, you’ll find me in confession tomorrow. But I have not done wrong by her or the Lord.”

“Good, good,” Snoke says. “When would you like to marry your sinner?”

“I would prefer it as early as possible. There is nowhere for her to stay- no single women living alone, and it is not wise for her and Miss Tico to be at Mrs. Kanata’s at the same time, what with Miss Hux knowing what happened to the adulterer, and Miss Tico not knowing. She is staying in my house- in a separate room, of course- and I would not like to live in sin.”

The adulterer. I want to scream. I keep my face timid and passive.

“Tomorrow?” Snoke says, sounding surprised. “... Tomorrow can be done, yes. Come up to my study- Phasma can amuse the sinner for an hour or so. Can she cook?”

“She seems useful enough, in that regard,” Ben says.

“Would you like to stay for dinner, then, Ben?”

“Yes, sir, it would be an honor.”

Snoke smiles. “Lovely. Come with me, then.”

“Thank you kindly, Father Snoke,” Ben says as the two men stand. “And please, forgive Miss Hux if she is not agreeable company. Of course, she is not familiar with the way things ought to go.”

Phasma purses her lips in a sneer barely concealed as a smile, eyeing me again like she pities me. Snoke booms out a laugh, clapping a hand onto Ben’s shoulder. “The Lord forgives, as do we,” Snoke says. “I’m sure you’ll have her broken in not long after you’re married…”

The two men walk off together, leaving Phasma and I alone.

The silence is deafening, but it doesn’t last long. “I had plans to make country-fried steak for dinner,” says Phasma. “Does that sound agreeable?”

I meet her eyes. I do not know what that is. “Yes, ma’am, it sounds lovely.”

Her eyes shimmer, and she smiles. “The appropriate response would include thanking me for asking. But you’re fairly polite already, luckily. Come along,” she says, standing, and I follow suit.

I hate her, too.

“I’ll speak with my husband about, perhaps, you and Mr. Solo coming to visit once or twice a week, to see if I cannot help you learn how you ought to conduct yourself before integrating fully with our community.”

“That is very generous of you, ma’am, and I would appreciate it greatly.”

Phasma smiles as she leads me back into the hallway and towards a giant, mostly white kitchen. “That was a wonderful response, dear. May I call you Rey? You may call me Phasma.”

“You may, and thank you very much.”

Phasma smiles. “Lovely,” she says, and starts gathering things. “Now, I do not know what… Standards may be found in the outside world,” she goes on. “So you must forgive me if I offer advice that seems common sense to you. A wife plans and prepares all meals- she asks her husband periodically if there is anything he should like or dislike to find prepared for him. Her husband will be expected to voice his own preferences on his own, however. If it helps you, I do happen to know that Mr. Solo is most fond of pork and chicken, and does very much enjoy a good breading on either. For any given supper, a protein is expected- can you be a dear and rinse these potatoes for me? Thank you- as well as a side of vegetables, a side of fruit, something rich like mashed potatoes or macaroni and cheese, as well as some bread on the side- cornbread, hush puppies, biscuits, and so forth. Lunch is to be light- a sandwich, a simple casserole, something of the like. And breakfast ought to include eggs most days. You’ll not find much cereal around these parts.”

Phasma went on and on and on. Almost all of it were things I could guess for this weird, trad-wife town. A wife ought never ask her husband for help in the kitchen, unless it is something she is not physically strong enough to do on her own. If a husband offers, a wife ought to be very grateful and express as much. That was one that had me seething inwardly.

“You ought to ask Mr. Solo about your chores early on, though he is the sort of man that I’m sure will be quiet open and prudent enough to tell you- if he has not already,” Phasma says.

‘Mr. Solo’ has not told me to do a goddamn chore, cunt, and in fact he practically gawked at me when I started doing dishes this morning, so shove it up your-

“Mr. Solo prefers green beans to corn,” Phasma says. “Though my husband prefers corn, Mr. Solo is our guest, and therefore, it is only polite to keep the guests’ preferences in mind.”

No one had asked my fucking preference. It was also green beans over corn, but fuck her. Fuck these people.

I start imagining Ari’s reactions to everything she says. It puts me in better spirits. He had the world’s biggest stick up his ass, but he’d be horrified at this woman, this town, their backwards and shitty fucking manners.

“Now,” Phasma says. “It is customary for brides-to-be to have an evening alone with me the night before their wedding, to speak of that which happens between a man and a woman on the following night.” She glances at me. “Do you know what happens?”

I flush crimson. It’s anger, and disgust, and a fair bit of horror that the girls here don’t know until they’ve agreed to it, but I play it off as embarrassment. “Only… Vaguely,” I breathe. And that’s true enough.

It sounds wet. My parents were strict and stifling, too, and Ari was- overprotective.

She looks surprised. “Well, then,” she says, a little bit more gentle. “Then we ought to talk about it now, and give your stomach time to settle, should the knowledge upset you. It does sometimes- but I assure you, it is not an upsetting act unless a woman makes it to be.”

Bullshit.

“Tell me what you know.”

I flush darker, and this time, it is from a bit of embarrassment. “A man’s…” I glance at her as if for permission to say a word.

“You will not offend me, dear.”

“Penis,” I breathe, and it’s weird to say it out loud, and I’m angry that it is. “Goes into a woman’s vagina. And then it- finishes. He- ejaculates. And a baby is made from sperm, and the egg in a womb, that comes from a woman’s ovaries when she’s ovulating…”

Phasma smiles at me, and it’s perhaps her kindest yet, if still unbelievably patronizing. “Very correct, Rey. The appropriate terms in non-medical settings are manhood and womanhood.”

About the most transphobic euphemisms, but I’m fairly certain that Rose and I are the only people in this town who wouldn’t hate transgender people.

… I hope Ben wouldn’t. I doubt he knows anything about them, that that’s even a thing that happens.

“Mr. Solo will undress you both,” she says. “And lay you down on his bed. He will likely kiss you, and perhaps, he will touch you wherever he should please. Most husbands have proclivities for a woman’s chest and her behind. You will be docile and passive. He will open your legs and enter you- it will likely sting, feel maybe a bit sore, but it ought not hurt, and if it does, there may be an issue. You can voice this gently and politely, and your husband will decide how to proceed. He will rock in and out of you until he reaches completion, possibly still kissing and/or touching you. It often does not last very long the first time, but it may last anywhere from a few minutes to an hour or more. When he has finished, and has removed himself from your womanhood, you will thank him politely for his seed and you will pray together so that the Lord might bless you with healthy children.”

Okay, wow. If that is not the most bland description of sex I’ve ever heard.

“Do you understand, dear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say softly. “Thank you, ma’am.”

She smiles at me and touches my arm, then continues on. She moves past sex into all sorts of other backwards bullshit, and I listen and smile and thank her often.

When dinner is done, we serve it on dishes and carry it to the dining room, and set the table. We head upstairs and she knocks gently on a door- to the study, I presume- and after a moment, Snoke answers.

“Ah, darling,” he says. “Is dinner ready?”

“Yes, dear,” Phasma says. “I was wondering if you and Mr. Solo should like a glass of milk each, as per usual. I thought I ought to show Rey that she would come and ask if ever she has guests over, though I know you both always prefer milk.”

Snoke smiles, looking back in at Ben, who gives a nod and offers his thanks. “Milk would be delightful, Phasma, thank you.”

“You are more than welcome, John,” Phasma says, her voice outright reverent.

This place is insane. Full of batshit insane people.

We head downstairs not long after, washing our hands again-

“Of course, you always wash up before a meal,” Phasma says. “My husband and Mr. Solo are doubtlessly doing the same.”

Eventually, we’re sitting at the table. Snoke sits at the head, Ben at the foot, Phasma and I across from one another. We all take hands and Snoke says grace, and then, we eat.

I’m grateful, for once, that my father was a rigid, haughty bastard. I have perfect table manners. Snoke and Ben make conversation over dinner- mostly Snoke. Phasma and I only speak when spoken to- and she is spoken to far more often than I am. As if it’s forbidden, she never addresses me at all in front of the menfolk.

I hate this place.

We finish. I help Phasma clean up; she carries the food, I carry the dishes. Ben and Snoke fuck off again, and I help Phasma for a while.

“How about you take the reins for dessert?” Phasma offers, and I stiffen in fear. “What do you know how to bake?”

“I make very good brownies, or so I’m told,” I offer softly.

Phasma smiles. “Very good. What will we need?”

I make brownies, my very favorite thing in the world. It’s a recipe inspired by my mother’s, tweaked by me and Rose in our teen years, and I make conversation by saying as much. Phasma looks proud, as if she had done any of this to me, as if she’s sculpting me into a perfect housewife for Mr. Solo.

When they’re done, we find the menfolk in the den.

“Miss Hux has made brownies for dessert,” Phasma says. Ben’s eyes light up, and he looks at me, and I offer a smile. It’s fake, and I hate it, but something about the look that follows in his eyes- he knows it, and he thinks it’s funny. Like we’re just visiting annoying but important neighbors.

I guess, to him, we are.

“Ah! Lovely,” Snoke says. “Thank you, Miss Hux.”

“You’re quite welcome,” I say, heart racing, glancing at Phasma as if begging her to tell me that was a suitable response. She stiffens slightly as if to say, it isn’t. “It’s the least I could do with you inviting m- us- into your home for dinner.”

Snoke laughs. “Mr. Solo is always welcome. And, as his bride-to-be- that extends to you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

I hate this. I wanna go home. I’d happily take Ben’s house instead, though.

Phasma offers milk, they accept. We eat dessert in the dining room, then clean up once more. Another awkward interaction of me trying my damndest, and then- finally- we’re leaving.

“You did good,” Ben whispers in my ear.

“I hate them,” I hiss under my breath.

He looks- shocked. I blink. He clears his throat and says nothing, but he doesn’t stop touching me, and he helps me into the truck just as gently as always before climbing in himself.

“Snoke mentioned that weddings are different out there,” Ben says. He’s not angry, but he seems a little stiff. “And he told me I oughtta ‘warn’ you.”

“Warn me?” I echo, heart falling deep into the pits of my stomach.

“Dunno how to, though. To be honest. You’ll wear your dress an’ your veil. Chewie walks down the girls that ain’t got no one. He’ll give you away, an’ I’ll take off your veil. We’ll say our vows and whatnot- Father Snoke’ll marry us- and Mitaka’ll check your maidenhead-”

“My what now?”

“Oh- right. Are you a virgin?”

“I- yes. Who’s doing what to me?”

“Mitaka, the town eunuch.”

I stare at him for several long seconds. I don’t think his words are processing. I know I should be alarmed, but there’s just something about his words when the meaning isn’t sinking in truly that’s outright hilarious to me.

The town eunuch- a casual thing- is going to check my maidenhead at the wedding.

It sinks in just enough to keep me from laughing. “Ben, I’m gonna need you to explain that part as well as you’re able to.”

“Well,” he says. “Dopheld Mitaka, a holyman, the town eunuch,” he says. “Will be blessed by Father Snoke and he will pray behind you. He’ll dip under your skirt, spread your legs, and check your maidenhead. There’s a whole different process for virgins and widows.”

Ah, yes. The only two marriagable options- but I’ve got bigger fish to fry. “A stranger’s looking up at my hoo-ha?”

“Your what now?” he questions, looking over at me.

“My- ah- womanhood?”

Ben flushes pink, clearing his throat. “Yes, ma’am. At your maidenhead. Which I assume is in tact?”

I blink. “I… Would think so? I don’t… Keep track of… My maidenhead. Hymen- that’s the word I’m used to for it. Ah- I had a transvaginal ultrasound last year, because cysts run in my family, and they had to check-”

“I don’t know what those words mean,” he interrupts gently.

“Do you know what an ultrasound is?”

“No.”

I blink. “Um… Could we- stop by to see Rose? She’s a nurse. I’m sure she can explain better than I can.”

Ben glances at the rearview. “Yeah. Looks like Poe’s not home- we gotta see him tonight.”

“I hate him.”

“I can understand that,” he says softly. “But we’ve gotta. I apologize. But- we can stop by Maz’s, first.”

We head to Maz’s, and Poe and Kay are still there.

Rose is in the living room, looking exhausted. Kay is crocheting; Maz, Chewie, and Poe are watching MASH. “He doesn’t know what a transvaginal ultrasound is,” I say, hooking a thumb at Ben. “Can you explain? He doesn’t even know what an ultrasound is.”

Rose forces a smile. “Well,” she says. “Ultrasounds are most commonly used to view fetuses and embryos- ah, babies-” she says, when he blinks at both of those words. “When they’re in the womb. It sends soundwaves into the belly- it sounds scarier than it is- and uses them to recreate an image that is sometimes nearly crystal clear. Most of them, the transducer- the thing that sends the soundwaves- is placed on the belly. In a transvaginal ultrasound, the transducer is inserted into the vagina-”

“Why?” Poe demands.

“Well, for some things, it’s the only way to see what you need to. Rey had one last year- she has a family history of cysts- little non-cancerous growths that can cause some issues with fertility, and pain- and she was having pain. She had a few, and they were removed, luckily without issue, and she’s all good.”

“Did you bleed?” Ben asks.

I raise both eyebrows. “... No? That doesn’t matter, though- if you bleed while having sex, you’re not doing it right. A woman’s supposed to be wet first.”

“Women don’t get wet the first time,” Poe says matter-of-factly.

Rose and I lock eyes. “Yes, we can,” we say in unison.

“And, besides,” Rose goes on. “If a woman struggles with getting wet, there’s always lube.”

“Lube?” Poe says. Rose and I lock eyes again.

“Lubricant,” she says gently.

“Well- I know, I use it on my damn truck all the time.”

“Well, they make it for sex, as well,” Rose says.

“Maz, you’re a midwife,” Ben says. “Can you check if Rey has her maidenhead?”

“I don’t- like- the thought of- a million strangers staring up at my hooha. Ah- womanhood.”

“Why are you so curious about her ‘maidenhead’?” Rose asks, giggling.

“We’re getting married tomorrow,” Ben, the idiot, says.

Rose raises both eyes. She gives another, smaller giggle. She looks at me like waiting for me to explain the joke.

“Already? Nice, nice,” Poe says. Casual.

Rose starts to look panicked then.

“I’ve always been- you know. Unpredictable.”

“Rey,” she says. “You’re not- you can’t- Ari’s gonna kill you both if you do that. And me, if I let you. Besides- we have to focus on finding him.”

I stare at her, heart pounding. I don’t know what to say to that.

I don’t like the reminders. They sting.

“Well,” I say. “Maybe, if his spidey sense starts tingling, he’ll get his arse back here quicker.”

“You can’t be serious,” Rose says. She’s nowhere near laughing anymore.

I shrug. What am I supposed to do? I’d never do this, not unless it was my best chance at getting out of here, and the only way to ensure he won’t leave me alone to the pain. The words that come out- they don’t consult my brain. “It hurts, Rose. I’m trying- trying to cope. And Ben makes me feel… Better, for a gravely needed few moments of peace. The things I need- he can’t give them unless we’re married. So, we’re getting married.”

Rose mouth is slightly agape. She looks hurt, and sad, and almost horrified. “Rey, marriage- it’s permanent. It’s not something you do for a few moments of peace.”

“I need it. I need to marry him. Soon. Now. Yesterday.”

“Rey, please-” Rose tries, voice breaking.

“No. I’m sorry-... I’m sorry I can’t find a way to make you understand right now.”

Rose sits back, looking at the wall like it could offer help. Ben’s hand finds my back, and with it, he gives me just a moment of peace.

I lean into him. I have to. He’s warm and solid and I am desperate for a rock, a foothold. A few moments of peace.

“I can check,” Maz says after a long, heavy, sullen silence.

“Good. C’mon.”

“Ben-” I start, but he pulls me away nonetheless.

“She said no,” Rose snaps.

“It’s alright, Rose-” I try, even though it’s very unlike me and she’ll know it-

“No, the fuck, it isn’t!” Rose says. “You said no! You don’t want to! Who the fuck cares if your hymen’s in tact? He shouldn’t!”

Ben looks at me, then Rose. He seems almost confused. “I don’t care,” he says. “I just have to know, so I can answer a question.”

“What fucking question?” Rose snaps.

“Do not tell her,” I barely breathe, teeth clenched.

Ben shifts, looking uncomfortable- scandalized. “S’private,” he mumbles. Sheepish.

“What the fuck has gotten into you, Rey?” Rose all but whimpers, desperate and scared.

I close my eyes. It aches. “Pain.”

I take a step forward.

“I hurt, too!” Rose screams. “And while you’ve been gallivanting around, getting engaged to a stranger, I’m stuck in here with two beautiful, painful reminders that my husband is missing!”

I start crying again- sobbing. Ben’s holding me at once. Rose is sobbing, too, but she’s angry, flustered.

“I have to tell her,” I whimper.

Ben says nothing.

“Don’t-” It’s Poe. And if he wants me to stop, he really shouldn’t have spoken.

I swivel, and I let the anger show. “Ari’s gone,” I weep out. “That ugly motherfucker right there,” I snarl, pointing at Poe, who stiffens and glowers not at me, but at Ben, because Mr. Solo is responsible for the sinner and all her actions, I guess. “Killed him, right in front of me, for being an adulterer.”

Kay looks back down at her crocheting, all but whistling, like she’s just overhearing gossip and trying to play it off. Chewie is silent, removed. Maz is tired, maybe a little sad.

Rose is staring at me. “What?”

“I didn’t fucking tell you because I knew you’d be just as wrecked as I am,” I sob. “And it’s all I have in me to try and think about how I can get us and those babies the fuck away from these murderers and- I just-” I stop to weep, all but collapsing, but Ben catches me. “He was gonna let him bleed out,” I spit, jabbing a finger in Poe’s direction again. “And Ben- made sure he didn’t. He begged-... Begged not to, and Ben made sure he didn’t, and Ben didn’t want Poe to do it in the first place, and he’s strange and he’s sweet and he feels like home and I need him, Rosie, I need him to hold me to get through the fucking horror of the grief and he can’t because this town is fucked and everyone’s brainwashed and he can’t fucking do that unless we’re married, so yeah, I’m gonna fucking marry him, so I don’t have to be alone until I can get you three at the very goddamn least out of here.”

Silence. Rose is crying. It’s not sunken in yet. After a long, long time, she speaks. “What?”

It breaks me. I do collapse, but Ben is still holding. I sob and I squeeze his arms, probably scratching him, but it hurts. He spins me around and I cling to him, arms wrapping around him- he gasps lightly, then clears his throat- and I clutch onto his shoulders and sob.

I can’t do this. I can’t take this. I wanna go home, and I want to bring Ben away from this fucking hell.

“What the fuck is she talking about?” Rose demands.

“He deserved it,” Poe says.

And it’s about the worst thing he could have said. I swivel because I know, but tiny little Rose Hux is a quick little thing, darting at him and attacking him.

“Christ-!” he screams, but in a moment, she’s biting her throat-

I scramble to grab her before-

Chewie kicks her in the face before I get the chance, and Maz grumbles in disapproval. Poe shoves Rey off and I catch her-

Ben’s got Chewie against the wall. “She’s a fucking woman, you goddamn-”

“She’s a fucking animal, biting him like ‘at-”

“Fucking Christ,” Poe snarls, touching his wound.

“Baby…?” Kay whimpers.

“M’fine-”

“Not when I’m fucking done with you!” Rose shrieks, and it’s a truly hellish sound. I have to scramble to hold her down.

“There’s too many, Rosie,” I whimper.

“I don’t fucking care!”

I sob and try to hold her, but in my pain, I’m not so strong. The babies start screaming, and Maz hurries off in that direction. Ben lets go of Chewie to help me-

“STAY AWAY FROM MY CHILDREN!” Rose shrieks, and she’s nearly on Maz-

Ben catches her. “Chewie’s bigger than me,” he grunts. “I can’t protect you if you go after-”

But Rose doesn’t care. She’s screaming, clawing, and I’m past Maz in a second- “I’ve got them. I’ve got them, Rose, I’ve got them…”

Rose flails a bit more before dropping to her feet. Ben doesn’t let go. She scowls at Maz. “You get the fuck away from their general fucking vicinity, and I don’t give a goddamn whose house this is, you ugly fucking cunt.”

Maz eyes Rose warily, slowly walking away from the hallway.

“That’s okay,” Poe sighs. “Finn was itchin’ for her, anywho. Just be two weddin’s tomorrow.”

“No,” I plead, looking at Ben, who immediately looks away.

“Her father around?”

“No,” I rasp out.

“Du’n’t matter anyway,” Poe says. “She was defiled. She’s free pickin’s.”

Rose leers at him, then goes to attack- Ben catches her and she stomps on his foot. He hisses in a breath but remains steady. “I’ll piss on your fucking body and shit on your goddamn grave.”

Poe quirks a brow, and it’s the only response he offers. He stands up, now entirely unbothered by the bloody wound at his throat. “Ben, you oughtta tie her up. She can’t stay here now-”

“No,” Chewie growls.

“So she’ll be off to Finn’s.”

Rose looks at me. “Is Finn- did he try and help Ari, too?”

She needs to me to say yes. I don’t know. I’m about to say yes, anyway, when fucking Poe ruins that.

“Naw, he was itchin’ to kill him, what with how he wronged a ‘sweet’ little thing like you,” Poe says.

Rose straightens. “Fine,” she says, voice icy and lethal. “Take me to his sorry ass, then.”

“Rose-” I say. But she’s steadfast.

I look at Ben. “If he hurts her,” I snarl.

“We don’t hurt women,” Ben says, and as he does so, he scowls at Chewie. “He touches a hair on her head, and I’ll gut him.”

“I’m gonna gut him,” Rose says.

“Good luck,” Poe snickers. Rose turns slowly, giving him a lethal smile.

“You’re fucking next, you backwoods motherfucker.”

“Rosie- can I watch them tonight? So you don’t have to worry about them?”

Ben clears his throat, but he doesn’t say anything, so I ignore him. Rose looks over at me, the lethal edge dying, and she nods faintly.

Chewie gets some rope, and Ben ties Rose up thoroughly but not harshly. She sits there, expression empty.

“Don’t get hurt,” I breathe. “They need you. You can’t… Can’t help Ari anyway but making sure they get out of here.”

Rose’s lip quivers, eyes growing sad, but she composes herself after a moment. She doesn’t reply.

“I need you, too, Rosie,” I say, fighting tears. “Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. You’re all- all I have.”

Her face twists up. Her eyes close. “He didn’t even want to risk it, travelling when I was pregnant,” she whimpered. “Paige is- she’s- gonna be so scared-”

“It’s gonna be alright,” I say. “I’m gonna get you out of here.”

“You’re coming with me,” Rose whimpers.

“Yeah. I’ll drag Ben with us, if I have to. I bet if we’re angry enough, we’ll be strong enough to drag him.”

“I have to…” Ben says, holding duct tape. She glances at it, then glares at him. He clears his throat, ripping off a few pieces, securing them to her mouth. I cry and move forward, then bury my fingers in her hair and kiss her forehead.

“Be safe and smart and don’t get hurt,” I whimper. “I’ve got them. I swear to you, Rose, that I’ve got them.”

She nods. She hums it-

The Arizona ranger with a big iron on his hip- a big iron on his hip.

I sob a little harder and nod, hug her close, then pull away. “I’m checking on her every goddamn day,” I whimper.

“Doubt Finn’ll see a problem with that,” Ben says.

Poe quirks a brow. What they don’t know is that I’m fucking going in, anyway, Finn and what he sees be damned to hell and back.

“C’mon,” Poe says, throwing Rose unceremoniously over his shoulder. Ben scowls at him. “Gotta get you to Finn so I can get patched up, you fucking mutt.”

I snarl at him and move closer, until we’re almost nose-to-nose- until, like a pussy, he leans back. “I’ll fucking chop off limb by limb,” I snarl. “Each finger gone by each knuckle. Each bone fucking broken. Might take me a while to find an opening- I don’t go in swinging- but you hurt her, even a little bit, and you’re going to fucking wish I’d just left you bleeding out in the woods.”

“Gross,” Kay breathes. I turn to scowl at her, and she stiffens, leaning away.

“Rey, sweetheart,” Ben breathes. “We gotta get the babies.”

I glance at a still-wary Poe one more time before turning and stalking towards them. Maz lets us borrow her baby shit, and we load up the truck. Poe and Rose are gone by the time Ben and I set out.

“Ought not say things like that,” he whispers. “The Damerons gossip.”

“Things like what?” I ask, finally wiping my eyes.

“... Most of it, really,” he grumbles. “The threats-... Town’s gonna be talkin’.”

“He killed my brother. He was throwing my sister around.”

“I understand,” he says softly. “Town’s gonna be talkin’, anyway.”

We drive in silence for a little while, then stop in front of a new house. “Was gonna take you to Poe’s,” he grumbles. “But… I doubt that’d be wise.”

“No, not really.”

He glances over at me as if slightly unnerved. “This is Ulysses’ house. His wife’s name is Bazine. They’re… An odd couple, but they’re jus’ about the only other couple I can think of who- would approve of what we’re gonna do.”

I look over, prickling at once. “What are we doing, Ben?”

He shakes his head, and the panic comes, and I have to make a decision-

And it boils down to whether or not I trust him. The babies in the backseat are asleep for the ten minute drive. He’s unsuspecting, and I am strong and smart.

“Ben Solo,” I breathe, and he looks at me. “I think you’ve gathered by now that I am used to- something a whole lot different than you are. Don’t… Don’t hurt me. I can’t take it. Not you.”

It’s a risk, and maybe I’m stupid. His eyes soften, and he looks down- he reaches over, putting his hand on mine. “I know you are,” he says. “I couldn’t take it if I hurt you. Couldn’t bear it, stand it. I’m tryin’ to do right by you. An’ this- well. If Snoke knew we were doin’ this, he’d put me an’ Ulysses in one helluva penance. From the sounds of it, it’s more like somethin’ you’d be used to than most people in town.”

I don’t know what to make of any of this. He clears his throat, looking back at the two car seats.

“Let’s get the littluns inside. They can sleep in the livin’ room, where we’ll hear it if they cry.”

“Ben…”

He gets out, opens my door. We each grab a car seat and go up, knocking.

Ulysses answers. He looks at each car seat, then me, then Ben. “Well, that was awful quick.”

Ben gives him a dry look. “Funny. We’re babysittin’ her niece an’ nephew.”

“Nice of you.”

“We’re gettin’ married tomorrow.”

Ulysses smirks, eyeing me. “I’d say it again, but damn, look at her. Can’t say I could blame you.”

Ben glowers, stiffening. “I love her, and she loves me. Can we come in?”

Wow.

Ulysses rolls his eyes, but takes a step back, ushering us in and closing the door behind me. “Good for y’all. Whattaya want? Baz don’t do babies, an’ the bitch is fixin’ to get it rough tonight, anyway.”

I tense, and Ben wraps his free arm around me, hand smoothing into my side. “I want her to talk to Baz about sex. She ain’t done it.”

I flush and look away, scowling.

“An’ I want her to see it. No matter how different y’all’s is from- from how it’ll be with us, the first time.”

That’s moderately frightening.

Ulysses snickers, eyeing me. “Yeah? You want your little virgin to watch me discipline my wife?”

I hate this.

“You keep talkin’, boy,” Ben grumbles. “We both know Baz only acts up so that you’ll discipline her.”

Ulysses grins. “Now, don’t go sayin’ the quiet part out loud. Takes all the fun away.”

“Rey oughtta see. So she’s prepared. It ain’t all- medical terms and rollin’ of the hips.”

Ulysses glances me up and down. “Fine.”

“Baz used to train with Maz, didn’t she?”

“Yessir.”

“Could she check if Rey has her maidenhead? She had one of them medical procedures. They- sodomized her, to look into her belly, or some shit.”

Ulysses frowns. He looks at me anew- almost gentle, in his strange way. “Now, that’s a damned shame,” he says softly. “Ain’t a damn thing what’s supposed to be there but a cock, a tongue, or a finger.”

I’m crimson now. I shift. “There are children present,” I whisper to Ben, who blinks and looks down at Richie’s car seat like he’d forgotten he was holding it.

“Right. We oughtta- may we?”

“Do whatever the fuck you want, Ben,” Ulysses says. Ben purses his lips and sets the car seat on the couch, so I follow suit. Ulysses leads us deeper into the house, but it’s a bit smaller than the others I’ve been in in town.

He opens a door to a small family room, and a beautiful woman sits in negligee, a bowl of popcorn in her lap, legs tucked under her bum. “Get fucked,” she says, and to my great surprise, she’s got a yankee accent like Rose.

“Rey here got sodomized by some doctors,” Ulysses says as if she hadn’t greeted him like that. Baz quirks a brow and glances at me, then looks back at the television and pops a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “You’re gonna look for her maidenhead, or I’m gonna sodomize that tight little ass until you do.”

“What’d they do to you?” Baz asks, eyes locked on the screen.

“Um- a transvaginal ultrasound?” I try. To my great surprise, she nods.

“Toss up, then,” Baz says. “I can look. That 70’s Show is almost over. You try to sodomize me, and I’ll sodomize you, fucking cretin.”

“THankless fucking whore,” Ulysses grumbles, moving forward and plopping down next to her; she turns to scowl at him, and he grabs her popcorn and she sneers. “Don’t mind me, I just slave away all day for this fuckin’ asshole-” he juts his thumb towards Ben, whose lips press together. “To feed your fat fucking ass-”

Baz, who is one of the thinnest women I‘ve ever seen in person, scoffs.

“And I get not a single goddamn thing for it.”

Baz looks bitter, dry, angry- and almost like a cat, excited to pounce. “Not my fucking fault you just had to fucking have me. I was perfectly fine without your sorry ass, and now, look at me- home all day, nothing to do, and then you come back and treat me like shit-”

Ulysses barks a laugh, throwing an arm around her, and she doesn’t protest at all. She goes on, and he’s grinning now. His pants are tenting.

It strikes me suddenly that I’m about to watch these two strangers have sex. I lean into Ben, and he wraps his arm around me.

“Look at that,” Ulysses demands suddenly, pointing at us, and I recoil into Ben on pure instinct. “Look at her. Clingin’ to her man, an’ they don’t even know each other! That is how you are supposed to act!”

Baz snarls at him, like an animal. “If you wanted that,” she hisses. “You’d have married one of the brainwashed little fucking local cunts, not me.”

Ulysses snarls, too, but he’s grinning, eyes shimmering, and he looks outright thrilled. He grabs her roughly by her hair and drags her closer- she sucks in a breath, and for just a moment, her excitement is readily apparent on her pretty face. “I’m gonna fuck you, so fucking hard, until you’re one of those brainwashed little fucking cunts, too.”

It very much feels like I should not be here. I cling to Ben and he gently kisses the top of my head, stroking my back reassuringly.

“You can fucking try, you no good fucking lowlife-” Baz hisses-

He’s dragging her off the couch by her hair, and she snarls as she lands roughly on her knees. He drags his pants open and yanks out his dick-

I seize up and look away, then shudder and glance through the corner of my eyes.

I’ve seen porn. I’m not quite as clueless as I played it for Phasma. But it still feels- different, here and now, live.

“Get that whore fuckin’ mouth open- all you’re good for, bitch, is blabbin’ and suckin’,” he snarls.

“Fuck yo- oouuughhh…” Baz snarls, because he stuffs his cock into her mouth.

My heart is racing. I burrow into Ben, and he idly strokes my back. I can see Ulysses bobbing her head back and forth, hear her grunts and affronted huffs.

“Yeah, there you fucking go, slut. All of it- I know you can fuckin’ take it- you was blowin’ your poor old sister’s old man- there you fucking go.”

She grips his thighs, but she’s careful of her nails.

Rough, hard, fast. Her noises get more and more- daunting. It is very wet. I wince a little, gripping Ben’s shirt, and he presses another kiss into my head.

“That’s it, Bazzie,” he sighs, finally relaxing a little- and now, she’s moving her head all on her own, and her moans area bit more… Into it. “Blow me. Show the ol’ girl how it’s done.”

Ulysses moves her hair away and I can see her, face flushed red and eyes fluttering, irises rolled back. She’s enjoying herself, squirming.

“Fuck, yeah. Take it, baby. You’re almost done- you know what that means, don’t ya? You’re bein’ a good girl, for once- takin’ your punishment- that means you get to bounce up and down on my cock, and put on a pretty show for our guests. Be the only-” he stops to shudder, and I can hear a wet pop as Baz releases her lips before sucking her cheeks in again. “Only time you’re any good at- receivin’ guests… Okay. Okay, you can have it now, then.”

Baz pulls back and gasps in a breath, looking up at him, and he looks right back at her. And suddenly, it’s very clear that they are very fond of one another.

He pulls her up and she drags the negligee over her head- Ben clears his throat and looks away. Ulysses seizes up to grab it, dragging it down again. “Sorry, baby- Benny’s got delicate sensibilities.”

Baz rolls her eyes, turning to face us. “If he did, he wouldn’t be here.”

Ulysses grabs her hips and pulls her down- she lets out a soft huff and quickly lifts her legs up, coiling them on either side of his, and he holds her with ease. His cock disappears beneath the hem of her negligee, and after a moment, she shudders and sighs.

“That’s it, slut. You just want one thang, don’t ya?”

“Yes…”

He slams her hips into his and she moans. “Oh- yes,” she breathes, and then she’s putting her hands on his knees and riding him, giving me a perfect view of her beige nipples under her negligee.

And, suddenly, I can look again. In fact, I can’t not look.

Tits.

She bounces and he says the filthiest things, gripping her hips, slapping her ass sometimes. She’s lost to it, eyes rolling back, beautiful face overtaken with wanton lust. That sounds wet, too.

“Let’s show her,” Ulysses snarls, tugging Baz’s dress up, holding it around her middle. Ben immediately looks away, but I watch Ulysses’ manhood disappear into her womanhood only to reappear, disappear, over and over and over. Her sex is red and it looks swollen, and her arousal drips down his length. I stare at it. I can smell it. It’s not so rough as the blowjob was, save for the occasional swat he pays her, and they’re both panting and groaning and saying yes, yes- oh, yeah- yes over and over and over again.

“Gonna fuckin’ come,” he snarls, dragging her back, reaching down to strum at her clit. She moans and shudders, crying out- it seems to take only moments before her eyes widen and her mouth falls open, and she twitches as she orgasms. He groans and slams her back into him, grinding into her, and she lets out a reverent little hhuuuhhh… before collapsing into him fully.

He presses the quickest kiss into the rim of her ear before his head falls back over the couch. They lay there like that for a long while, as the credits for That 70’s Show play. Then, he pats her ass.

“Up and attem, Bazzie. Check the girl’s cunt.”

Baz’s eyes find me, and then, she nods and gets up. He grabs her wrist and she turns back with a frown; he quirks a brow, and she blinks, then leans forward and kisses him three times, quickly.

“C’mon, hon,” Baz says. “We’ll go to the bathroom, or the bedroom. Whichever.”

Chapter Text

“Okay, bottoms off,” Baz instructs lightly. I wiggle out of my skirt and drop my underwear. “You can set one foot on the toilet seat, keep the other on the floor.”

I chew on my lip and do as she said, looking anywhere but at her. She crouches, looking.

“I’m gonna touch you,” she says. “But Mitaka’s gonna do that, anyway, so you should get used to it. And I’m sure Ben will, too.”

I scowl and nod, trying not to squirm. She parts my folds, staring into the core of me.

It’s very… Invasive.

“Mmm,” she hums. “Yeah, pretty sure he’ll call that whole. The whackjob fucking ‘leadership’ blames men for all of it, though- even if he doesn’t think you’re whole, all you’ll get is a little embarrassment, and it’ll pass. I wasn’t ‘whole’.”

“Wonderful,” I breathe. “... But at least someone else thinks they’re whackjobs.”

Baz gives me a smile as she straightens. “Yeah? I’ve been here for four years, and until you two, I was all alone with that. So- imagine how I feel.”

I almost sigh in relief. Baz grins, then motions to my clothes. “You should get dressed, hon.”

I nod and scramble back into my clothes, and then, we’re walking out of the bathroom and back into the den. Ben’s sitting on a loveseat, lounging, arms and legs splayed. Baz plops down onto the couch next to her husband as Ben looks over at me.

“I am whole,” I say, inching closer. He nods, and I squeeze into the unoccupied portion of the cushion. It’s annoying, until I’m there and blissfully tucked into Ben, and then it’s nice. I curl into him.

“She’s wet, too,” Baz says in a silken voice, and I turn crimson and pout.

Ulysses cocks a grin. Ben straightens, eyes turning… Yearnful. He drags me ever closer. “Nice fucking catch, Ben.”

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe,” Ulysses says. “If you ask nicely, Ben, we can watch our girls play together.”

My heart stops dead.

Ben blinks, then looks over at him. Baz looks over at me, almost curious. Like she’s thinking about it.

I whimper and curl into Ben, who relaxes into the bed.

“She don’t sound too keen-”

Baz is grinning. “She’s keen. She’s shy.”

“Well, she’s heard about it. I’ll ask nicely once she does. Until then, leave her be.”

Maybe I do love Ben. I don’t know. Crazier things have happened.

“Mmm. Okay…” Ulysses says.

I want to get Baz alone. To ask about her, how she got here. Maybe she’ll have some tips on getting out. I don’t know how to go about that, and I sit and wonder as I get more and more tired-

“Ugh,” Baz huffs. “I’m sick of you. Rey, come.”

Ben clears his throat, clutching me at once. Baz gives him a look, then rolls her eyes. I look up at Ben, more pleading than I’d have hoped.

He relaxes, then pouts and glances away. He lets go.

I press a quick kiss into his lips and all but dart towards Baz, and she leads me out of the room and towards a bedroom. She plops gracefully, somehow, onto the bed and motions for me to do the same. I sit down.

“How did you get here?”

“Me and my mother were driving through, and our car broke down,” Baz says, looking up at the ceiling. “Ulysses still worked for his father at the time, down at the auto shop, and he- well, we fucked. A lot… A lot happened after that, naturally, in this fucking hell on earth, and we got married.”

“Did you try to run?”

“All the time.”

“Do you still?”

“No,” Baz says, quiet. She looks desolate. “There’s no way out. You’d never know it coming in, but there’s armed guards surrounding the whole fucking down, and the woods around it. They’ve got big guns for cops or anyone else coming around looking, and dart guns for me- us,” Baz corrects, glancing at me apologetically. “The only person who knows where they all are at any given time is fucking Snoke. Even the guards don’t know where each other are, just where their own self is supposed to be and when. It’d take a fucking miracle to get out of here, and if you’re caught running, it’s not your husband who punishes you- it’s Snoke. Which, for us girls, is usually a public flogging in the stocks, completely naked, and then being left out there for anywhere from a day to a week without food and minimal water. Once, when I nearly got away, I also got branded-” Baz turns to flash the back of her neck, where a big, old English A is scarred into her skin. Beneath it, smaller, is the name Ulysses Ushar Knight. She lays back down and looks back up at the ceiling. “We’re lucky, you and I,” she breathes. “Ben and Ulysses are about the least sickening men in here.”

“What about Finn? Rose- my sister-in-law- she’s with him now.”

Baz stares at the ceiling for a while. “Better than a lot of ‘em,” she says at last. “Nowhere near as lucky as us.”

I shudder, drag my knees up to my chin, and hug my legs. “I have to get the kids out of here,” I breathe. “I can’t- I don’t care. I’ll stay here. But I need them out of here. Preferably Rose, too.”

Baz closes her eyes. She sets her forearm over them. “I’ll try to brainstorm,” she whispers. “Help, if I can. But… Don’t get your hopes up. Your best bet is to bunker down and find a way to cope. It’s not horrible- and, like I said, we’re lucky. And you seem to like Ben. Most of the time, it should be fine. Good, even, maybe. Just find a way to cope with the rest, and try to avoid it as much as you can.”

“Why-... They killed my brother,” I whisper, and saying it- I have to fight it, the grief and the pain. There’s work to be done, learning to do, so that I can get them out.

“I heard,” Baz breathes. “I’m so sorry, Rey. Truly.”

“For being an ‘adulterer’. But not Ulysses? I mean- I’m glad-”

Baz gets a dry smirk. “Ulysses always intended to marry me, right away. He fucked me to have leverage, and everyone here knows it- he made sure of it. Truth is… Ulysses was playing the hand he was dealt- like an asshole, but he did it well. Your brother wasn’t even aware there was a game, or that his opponents were seeing every card he had. If Finn didn’t want Rose, they’d probably just have run you off. That’s what they usually do when people pass through.”

We’re silent for a while. I cry, then stop, then cry again. I sniffle, eventually.

“By the way,” Baz whispers. “Ben’s a good guy. Ulysses is a good guy. But there’s little bits of the town and their ways engraved in them. You gotta be gentle, but you can work them out. The good ones… They’re as much victims of this as we are. You gotta be gentle when you pull a thorn off of a rose, or you’ll hurt yourself taking it off. They’re not roses- maybe it’s still on them for hurting us, when they do. Probably. But it doesn’t change the fact that it’ll go smoother if you’re gentle.”

I watch her for a moment. She turns to look at me, then reaches out and touches my calf, stroking her thumb along it. Then, I’m moving- shifting- and laying down in her arms, my head on her shoulder, and she holds me tight.

She smells like flowers. I close my eyes and breathe in.

Another few moments of peace.

The door opens and I jump, then grumble and settle before I can even see Ulysses and Ben appear behind it- but Ulysses slams the door into the wall, making me jump again. Baz scowls.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“No playing without permission,” Ulysses snaps. Ben is frowning, I realize, eyes locked on his shoes.

“We’re- laying down. Our clothes are on,” Baz says. “We’re literally just hugging, nerd.”

Ben’s eyes turn to the side, his pout fading into a scowl. My heart is thudding; I sit up and scoot away.

“You see that? She realized she did something wrong- and she stopped-”

“Fuck off,” I snap. Baz smirks.

Ben looks deeply unhappy, but he won’t look at me. I inch closer. He remains unaware.

“Ben?”

He looks over at me. His eyes are guarded. His lips purse slightly. “We will talk alone,” he says in a low, booming voice, and the sound carries an air of finality with it.

“Wow. We were literally just bonding about how we’re the luckiest girls in this shithole town, and you two are already proving us wrong,” Baz says, sitting up. Ben averts his eyes again.

“Yeah? You think you’re lucky?” Ulysses says.

“You can’t just do that and immediately jump back into playing,” Baz says, crossing her arms.

He stalks forward and I immediately propel myself off of the bed. “I can do whatever I want. And you,” he glances over at Ben, who flicks his eyes towards him. “Can see yourselves out.”

Ben gives a nod, turning and walking off. I scurry after him, brow knitting, a frown carving itself onto my face. He grabs both of the car seats this time, so I open and close the doors until they’re buckled into the back seat again.

He doesn’t open my door for me. For some reason, this is what angers me most.

I stalk around and climb in. I do not buckle. He looks over at the buckle pointedly, but I keep my eyes training straight ahead.

“Buckle.”

I do not move. He gives a heavy, angry snarl.

“Rey.”

I don’t speak.

He grabs my arm and pulls me closer- it’s rough, maybe, but not painful. I seethe, baring my teeth, but keep my eyes forward. “Buckle the fuck up,” he spits. “Do not make me regret trying to prepare you. Do not make me regret introducing you to her. Unless you would like an exceedingly similar dynamic, you will buckle your fucking belt, or I will drag you across my knee and whoop your ass-”

I yank away and he lets me. I buckle violently, aggressively.

The car ride is silent. We’re silent as we get the children settled in a room near the master, and then, he grabs my arm and guides me to the master.

“You’re not allowed to get mad at me for not doing anything wrong,” I hiss.

He swivels and bears down on me. “Not doing anything wrong?” he counters. “If you wanted to play with her, you ought to have asked me.”

“I wasn’t playing with her!” I snap. “I was crying and she held me because I was sad-”

“That is what I am here for,” he snarls.

“You left me alone because we’re not married yet,” I snarl back. “Could you hear me? I know I woke up screaming, crying, more than once. Did you hear me, Ben, and decide to let me wallow alone?”

He recoils, looking away, and it stings that he did. I start to get angrier, but I actively shut it down and lean back, cross my arms, and lean into the door.

“I know we’re different,” I breathe. “But you can’t-... You can’t just get mad at me. You have to talk to me first. Do you not see how many times we already would have argued if I did that- got mad, then asked? I can’t do all of the work, Ben, and I won’t be the only one doing it.”

His eyes fall to the ground, and with that, his anger melts away. We stand there for a few moments. “You’re mine,” he says finally. “Married or not, you’re mine. I’ll look after you. I don’t go around throwing myself at people, sad or not- if you need that, ask me. If you wanna curl up with Baz, specifically-... Just ask. Okay?”

The fact that he views me inherently as property is something very big to unpack later. If I put aside that- for now, a temporary thing-... What he’s asking for is fine. “Okay.”

“You said you like girls,” he goes on after a moment. “It’s a little different-... Seems a little different now. Like if you were curling up to Ulysses without permission.”

“I don’t- want to curl up to him,” I grumble.

“That’s not the point. I’d say no, anyway.”

I press my lips together. “Then you’re not curling up with Baz.”

Ben looks horrified at the notion. “No.”

Fine. For now, this is fine.

We recover silently for a while. He starts to shift slightly, glancing up at me from time to time. He shifts closer, a little. “You like girls,” he breathes again. “I… I found you a girl.”

He sounds so- boyishly hopeful, and gentle. I soften, a small smile appearing. My arms loosen around my chest. “You’re sweet,” I breathe.

He looks- weirdly honored. He looks away, then gets a little grin. Sheepishly, he scratches the back of his neck.

He’s cute. He’s really cute.

“Ben?”

He looks at me, waiting. Open. Beautiful.

“I’m yours,” I whisper. “But I’m still me. A whole person. My own whole person.”

He blinks, then nods. “Yeah. I wouldn’t want you if you weren’t… Still you. I mean-”

I smile, wide and toothy, and I can see his breath hitch, and it’s beautiful. “I know what you mean,” I say softly.

He studies me for a long few moments. He swallows, flicks his tongue over his lips. He clears his throat. “We can… We could shower together,” he says softly. “If you keep it a secret.”

I’m nodding before I realize it. He gets another grin, flushing slightly, then takes my hand and walks me into the bathroom. He turns and looks down at my body, smile fading, but surreal awe blossoms over his face.

He’s really, really cute, and damn him for it. He gulps, then gently takes hold of the hem of my shirt. After a moment, he drags it slowly up over my head. He lets out a sharp breath as the shirt hits the floor with a gentle sound, eyes scouring over my torso. He looks like he’s about to start sweating. He looks like he’s gazing into heaven itself, but it’s just me, and my bra is damp from the stupid lactating.

“Holy shit,” he breathes. His hands make small, lurching motions closer before they touch my waist, and I close my eyes and sigh as they trail behind me towards my bra. “I’m not gonna,” he says softly as he pulls me closer, looking down as he fiddles with the clasp of my bra. “But you’d let me, wouldn’t you? Let me take you?”

I shudder and nod. He shudders, too, letting out a shaky breath.

“I didn’t- didn’t know people-... Could be so- beautiful,” he says, words staggering and breathless. I sag into him, nuzzling into his chest, and he finally gets my bra open. It drops to the floor and he curses under his breath again, stroking the skin of my back where the bra had just rested.

He reaches down and grips my ass, and we groan in unison.

“Let me do anything to you,” he whispers. “Sweet girl- my girl. I-... You were made just for me. I’ve been waiting- waiting for you. Hopin’, prayin’ for you, and now- finally-... You’re here, in my arms.”

I wrap my arms around him and hold on tight. My heart is pounding. He pushes both thumbs gently beneath the hem of my skirt and my panties, then drops slowly to his knees, taking my clothes with him. He eyes my breasts and his nostrils flare; his pupils are blown out; he’s breathing heavily. My remaining clothes drop to the ground and I step out and kick them away. His hands fall to my hips and his fingers massage into me; he looks down to watch my flesh move, eyebrows knitting up.

“Look at you,” he breathes, eyes settling on my slit. Thank God for laser- I’ve got just a neat little landing strip. He looks curious, tilting his head to the side. “Fuck. I’ve never seen… I won’t look no more’n’is ‘til tomorrow. But, shit-... I want to. I want you to know how much I want to.”

“Ben…”

He shudders violently and closes his eyes. “I love you,” he breathes, and it warms my heart so much more than it should so soon. “But I need- I need you to be quiet. I ain’t got unlimited strength, and fuck, hearin’ you say my name…”

I nod and bite my lip. He looks at my breasts again, then runs a hand up over my belly and gently kneads one. His eyes widen again- he kneads a little more insistently, a bit less gentle.

“Jesus Holy Christ,” he breathes. “Fuck. Fuck- is so- you’re so fuckin’ soft. Fuck…” Ben draws me closer, shifting until he gets my nipple in his mouth-

“Oh,” I moan, gripping his hair. He suckles-

He’s drinking. On purpose. He groans, eyes rolling back, and laps at me like it’s the most natural thing in the world-

Now, this, I like. And this is gonna make me have to exclusively pump from here on out, because this is only happening with Ben ever again. He groans and unlatches to flick his tongue eagerly over me and I whimper-

“I can’t,” I whimper. “Too much- too good- I can’t-”

He pulls away and shudders, sitting on his heels, eyes closed and brows knitted up. He’s panting from the strain of holding back. He looks up at the ceiling- past it, really. Pleadingly. After a moment, his lips start moving- then, he does the cross thing, touching his forehead, his chest, then each of his shoulders. Only then does he meet my eye again. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“We should shower, before we do something- something.”

He nods, pulls off his shirt, then pushes easily to his feet and turns on the water. I stare at his chiseled, muscular back, and I almost, almost, ask him just to fuck me.

I don’t, and that’s a damned shame. But it’s for the best.

He steps out of his jeans and boxer briefs. He’s a solid wall of muscle. He’s waiting for the water, I think- “Can I see you?” I breathe.

He turns slowly, and my eyes widen.

He’s massive. Horrifyingly, terrifyingly thick. Longer than I thought they could get. My heart is racing with fear and anticipation and exhilaration. His cock twitches, and it’s a near violent thing. He’s got a mess of dark curls and giant bollocks to match.

“There’s no way that’s going to fit inside of me.”

He gets a coy little smile. “It’ll fit, darlin’. I’ll make it.”

It’s a genuine threat with the size of it, but with the tone of his voice- gentle and yet sure, reassuring- it’s arousing nonetheless. I clench on nothing and stare.

One thing is for certain. I cannot let him get started until I’m wet. He’d probably rip me open, or something. It’d at least feel like it.

“Is there internet service here?” I ask, expecting an of course. Google has to have some tips.

“Internet service?” he says, like he’s never heard of it. I look up at his face and blink.

Ben doesn’t even have a television. Of course he doesn’t have internet. I’ll ask Baz; she was watching That 70’s Show. Maybe they have Netflix.

“Nevermind,” I say softly.

We shower. He stares at me with reverence, awe, and longing. We dry off, get ready for bed. We put on pajamas, and he ties our ankles together with a short length of rope between them. I don’t mind; I still need to figure a safe way out. My best bet is probably to lay low; the only rush would be Rose, but I’ll have to be able to talk to her sometime. The kids won’t be tainted for years, but we won’t stay nearly that long.

The babies, Rose, and me. Ben and Baz. Maybe Ulysses, if he and Baz are so fond of one another, if he is as good as Ben.

“How is tomorrow gonna go?” I breathe.

“Well, we’ll have breakfast,” he says. “Go to church. After church, we’ll get married- we’ll have to hand the babies back to Finn. And Rose. We’re not allowed to leave, and no one is allowed to visit, for seven days. You’re not allowed to get out of bed, save for goin’ to the bathroom. Ah- you’re a better cook than me, but it’ll be edible, I promise.”

“What?” I say, looking up. “No getting up? No leaving?”

“It’s the honeymoon,” he says simply, like it’s normal.

Again, for him, I guess it is.

“God smiles upon the most promising couples, and the most promising couples are blessed with children during the honeymoon. I know you’ll probably wanna wait, and we can try, but it is up to God to decide, o’ course. After that, well, it’s life as normal.”

‘Normal’. I lay back down on his chest. “If I could get away,” I breathe. “Would you come?”

He seizes up. “Why do you wanna go? It’s fine here. We ain’t gotta see Poe or Snoke too much- just at church, really, an’ we’re all busy then-”

“Ben,” I breathe. “You’ve never left Alderaan, have you?”

“No.”

“It’s different out there. It’s worse in some ways, maybe-” not that I can think of a single one- “But it’s… Better. You deserve better, I deserve better, Rose does, those babies do… Ours will, one day, when we have them.”

He pulls me in tight, close. “I don’t want to go,” he says softly. “But if you went, I’d follow you. We’re together. We’re… Married, in any way that matters. Ain’t no changin’ that. Don’t mean I’m gonna help you… But I ain’t gonna stop you. Unless you’re fixin’ to get yourself hurt.”

I close my eyes and clutch onto him for dear life. It’s enough.

It feels like more than enough.

“I love you, Ben.”

He presses a sweet kiss into my cheek. “I love you, too, Rey.”

Chapter Text

Over and over again, that night, I dreamt of it. I’d wake up in between them, ground myself in reality, and pray I would not fall back asleep. All but the last time, of course, I did, and each time, the dream lasted a little longer.

Little things were different. Once, Rose looked up at me and told me to go watch my brother die, her voice cold and angry. Once, I gutted Snap, and it was bloody and horrific, slow and all too real. Once, Poe really tortured Ari before killing him, and I stood there and watched, quivering and screaming and doing nothing. Once, Ben raped me, right in front of Ari, whispering about how he was sorry that I didn’t love him enough, and that I didn’t like the way that things ought to be, but I was his and he’d teach me to like them, to love him.

I wake up for the final time- that time- and I sob. That wakes Ben up; he pulls me closer and I breathe heavily, panicking, but his touch his a salvation and a damnation all at once, and I can’t figure out if it’d make me feel better or worse to push him away.

The damnation fades, though, slowly, and I sink into him and cling for dear life.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers. “I’ve got you, an’ yer safe. Ain’t nothin’ what’s gonna hurt you. Ain’t nothin’ what’s gonna hurt them babies. Yer safe, them babies are safe-... You loved him, your brother. The good Lord forgives. He musta been a good man to earn your love. He’s in heaven, an’ he’s lookin’ down on you, helpin’ ya. I know you’d rather him be with you… But he’s there, an’ he’s safe, too.”

I burrow into him. I wish I could melt into him, become a part of him. Have his big, warm body surrounding me like I’m just an extra little bit of my soul, protecting me from everything outside of us. His words are a salve and I bask in them in half-panicked relief and a desperate, gnawing need for more of them.

I’m not an overly religious person, but he is. There’s a deeper meaning behind those words- he is saying the sweetest thing in a language all his own, and the fact that it’s his makes it sweeter. And the truth is, in whatever language is mine… I don’t think there are words that quite say the same thing. They wouldn’t feel the same even if they do exist, least of all from his lips.

It takes a fair bit of quivering, but eventually, I’m calm. By calm, of course, I mean despondent, laying on my belly on his chest, my forehead nestled into the crook of his neck, staring out the window in the dark. I can barely see, but there are lights out there, lighting the way. I can look into the stable where the horses are. Maybe I’m crazy, but I think Padme’s looking back at me.

“Tell me about your grandmother,” I breathe.

There’s only a slight pause. “Her name was Padme Amidala,” he says softly. “Before she was married to my grandfather. She was the daughter of the Leader, at the time. Pops- my grampa- was named Anakin. He was an outsider what came through with his ma and his step-father. His step-father- he was wicked, an’ worse than I’ve ever seen or heard of anyone bein’ wicked. Nasty man- used to hit Pops and his ma somethin’ fierce. That’s the worst you can do- hittin’ girls, children. God made y’all just a little softer, for holdin’ babies. It ain’t right. I’ve seen a fair few ladies what that I wouldn’t wanna cross, softer or not-... But that ain’t the point. You jus’ don’t- you don’t do it. Anyhow… Padme killed that man herself, his step-father. An’ his ma, she married a local widower. Anakin coveted Padme right away, even though he was just nine when it happened. They used to say the damndest things about him- how he was wicked, too. But he wudn’t. They’d say the damndest things about Padme, too- women, ah… Generally, not supposed to do stuff like that. Think she oughtta had a man do it. Well, they got older- ten years went by, an’ they got married. It caused one helluva ruckus, I gather, but they didn’t care. They was proof the town ain’t always right, somethin’ a lot of ‘em forget. They wanted each other- they got married- it was right by them, it was right by God, and it wudn’t not a gotdamned soul’s business but their own. Padme’s daddy passed, and Father Palpatine became the Leader- that wudn’t right. Padme had more than proven herself- title of Leader oughtta gone to her husband, as it does unless the Leader’s children ain’t… Fit for it. But- proof of just how good-hearted they was- they took it in stride. Gave birth to twins- my ma, Leia, an’ my uncle Luke. Padme nearly died, but Maz saved her. She was jus’ startin’ out as a midwife. Miracle o’ the generation, they said. Padme was blessed, an’ her children were destined for greatness, thus saith the Lord. Her life was quiet after that- she was good, she was kind, she was… An angel in life as much as she is now. She passed a little while back, about five years after Pops. Her body started fadin’ the moment he went, jus’ like every soulmate. We just ain’t fit for life without the other one here with us.”

We. Us. He thinks we’re soulmates.

I curl into him, kiss his neck just above his collar, and he shivers slightly. “What about your mother?”

He cleared his throat. “Ma was-...” he pauses for long enough that I think he isn’t going to go on, but he does. “She was kind, too,” he breathes. “Wasn’t the same, though. I ain’t got a daddy- why my name is what it is. Solo. One, alone. At first- much like Mary- they thought she was lyin’, but she had her maidenhead. Palpatine christened her Mother Leia.”

I pull back to look at him, heart pounding. “What?”

He looks back at me like he’s just relaying a fun fact, not sure why I’m so shocked by it. “Mhm,” he says. “Palpatine christened me as Kylo, the second coming of Christ. ‘Kylo’ after the Greek word ‘kila’, which means ‘good’.”

He thinks he’s the second coming of Christ.

Well, they think he’s the second coming of Christ. He believes it because it’s what he’s been told since the day he was born. He lays his head back and looks up at the ceiling. “In truth,” he says. “I don’t think I’m just the second. Lotta time’s passed since Christ, and I’m sure the world’s had great need for it between then and now. And I don’t think I’ll be the last. I ain’t bringin’ about Revelations any time soon, so settle on down, darlin’.”

He thinks he’s a coming of Christ.

“Ma was good. It was tough raisin’ me without a husband. She moved in with Maz for a while, but she took an outsider as a husband when I was a kid- Chewie- and we moved in with my uncle Luke. I moved out, back to this ranch, soon as I was strong enough to care for it. Grew it into what it is. The Knights been helpin’ me the whole time, more’n more of ‘em as more’n more of ‘em are old enough. Ah… An’ that’s our family so far, I s’pose. We gotta get to makin’ the rest of it, when yer ready.”

He thinks he’s Kylo, a coming of Christ.

I don’t know how to process that. I think better of asking about all the miracles he must have done, if he’s, you know, a Messiah, or whatever.

I try to focus on anything else. His voice is groggy with sleep, and his words are more slurred- accent sloppier- that it usually is. It’s trying to lull me back to sleep, but that is not allowed.

“Tell me about you,” Ben says softly. “An’ yer family, and the… Rest o’ the world. An’ where you come from that you talk like’at.”

I laugh softly. “I was born in England,” I say, looking up at him. He blinks and nods.

So, at least they mentioned that. I lay my head back down.

“My parents were Brendol and Maratelle Hux-... Well,” I say. “My biological mother- and Ari’s- was… Another woman. His mistress, whose name they never told us. It was very scandalous, as one could imagine. Word got out when I was young, and my parents moved to Arizona. Our neighbors were the Ticos- Rose and her family. She’s five years older than me, but we were close as could be. My parents used to have her babysit me; Ari was an adult by that time, he’s fifteen years older than me, and he didn’t live with us anymore. My parents got sick- cancer- and passed away, my mother first and then my father. Ari moved here to look after me without uprooting me again. Rosie had a crush on him right away, but she was still, like, sixteen or so at the time, and he’s ten years older than her. She was shy, though, and she kept her distance… Her parents died, and her older sister got custody. They moved to Tampa, close to their grandparents, who died when Rose was nineteen. When I turned eighteen, Ari moved us all to New York City- he went there for work, she wanted to go for the sights and the big-city life, and I wanted to go because of them. He fell for her right away, and they got together. He asked her to marry him pretty much right away, but she wanted to wait- do it right. That’s-... That’s right out there, anyway. Going slow. Making sure you’ll be happy forever, so no one gets hurt. Then, she got pregnant, and that- well, it changed. They were both certain, anyway. Rose- she didn’t want to get married while pregnant, though, so she could drink the champagne, so they were going to wait until Rose gave birth and had recovered a little.”

He listens quietly. His eyes close in what looks like pain towards the end, brow knitting. “I’m so sorry.”

And he sounds so guilty. I kiss his cheek.

“In another life,” I breathe. “Ari would have thought you were so weird. He wouldn’t like you at first- wouldn’t like anyone I got with, just because he was overprotective. He’d be so rigid and callous and you’d just blink and frown at him, puzzled by him and pretty much everything about him. But as time went on, I’m pretty sure you would’ve liked each other a lot. Been friends. The four of us-” I smile as the tears fall. “We’d have taken on the world together.”

His eyes find me. He runs his fingers through my hair, then leans forward to kiss my forehead. “Nana would’ve looked at you like you hung the moon and stars. And my Nana was never wrong, not once in her whole life.”

I wrap my arms around him more tightly once again, and he does the same.

“Can you sing for me, baby?” he says softly. “Nearly cried when you was singin’ that lullaby.”

I kiss his cheek. “When an irresistible force, such as you… Meets an old immovable object, like me… You can bet just as sure as you live-! Something’s gotta give, something’s gotta give, something’s gotta gi-ive… When an irrepressible smile, such as yours… Warms an old implacable heart such as mine… Don’t say no, ‘cause I insist! Somewhere, somehow, someone’s got to get ki-ised… So, en ga-arde…! Who knows what the fates have in sto-ore… From their vast mysterious sky. I’ll try ha-ard ignoring those lips that I adore… But how long can anyone try-y? Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight it with all of our might- chances are some heavenly star-spangled night… We’ll find out, just as sure as we li-ive! Something’s gotta give, something’s gotta give, something’s gotta gi-ive. Fight, fight, fight it with all of your might- chances are that some heavenly star-spangled night… We'll find out just as sure as we live! Something's got to give, something's got to give, something's got to give, something's got to gi-ive…”

By the time I’m done singing, he’s gently hoisted me up and turned slightly so that we’re on our sides, faces close together. He’s smiling, his dimples present and glorious, his eyes soft and warm and full of fondness. He’s cupping my neck as I sing, but when I’m done, his big, warm hand moves up to my cheek and I lean into it, eyes drifting closed. “That’s us,” he whispers, and I feel a wide smile sprout, then hear his breath hitch.

“Yeah, baby. That’s us,” I say, and I lean in closer to kiss his lips. “But there’s one song that’s even more ‘us’. I’ll sing it to you tonight, when we’re married… The way we do weddings, out there- when we go, we’ll renew our vows, and I’ll show you how it’s done out there- we have a reception after the ceremony. A couples’ first dance. This was supposed to be my first dance song- I’d never marry someone unless it fit perfectly. And that’s us.”

He kisses my lips. “I can’t wait.”

I think he’s using the expression, not genuinely rushing me. But something about his words, the gentle and solemn way he says them-

I have to.

“Blue moon, you saw me standing alone, without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own… Blue moon, you knew just what I was there for- you heard me saying a prayer for someone I really could care for… And then there suddenly appeared before me the only one my arms will hold. I heard somebody whisper, please, adore me… And when I looked, the moon had turned to gold! Blue moon! Now, I’m no longer alone, without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own. And then there suddenly appeared before me the only one my arms will hold. I heard somebody whisper, please, adore me… And when I looked, the had turned to gold! Blue moon! Now, I’m no longer alone, without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own. Blue moon! Now, I’m no longer alone, without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own…”

He sets his forehead on mine. “The good Lord made you for me,” he says softly.

“And He made you for me.”

He gets a funny little smile. “I was already here. Sorry, baby. You get that honor- being hand-crafted by God- all to yourself.”

I sputter a soft laugh at that. “Fine. Not quite the same as- being the second coming of Christ, but I’ll take it.”

He kisses me sweetly a few times. “It’s nearin’ four. A fair bit early for a Sunday, but I ain’t gonna be able to go back to sleep. We oughta get up- if we do, we can head on down to the church a little early so that we can pick out yer dress. They got loads, all sorts of ‘em. Won’t be so rushed after church, then. Besides- confession for newcomers always lasts an awful long time.”

Oh.

He expects me to go to confession.

I don’t- even know- how that works. But apparently, they take in newcomers sometimes, so I’m sure they’re prepared for that?

Ugh. Snoke’s going to be the guy behind that thing, isn’t he?

He gets up. He walks to the closet where we’d hung my things, then outstretches a pretty blue dress. “Blue moon,” he says softly, a boyish grin on his face, so crooked that he’s just got one dimple.

My heart melts. Maybe they’ll have an ivory dress I can change into- when I looked, the moon had turned to gold!

I get up. We make a big breakfast, moving slowly. We eat slowly in the breakfast nook and we chat all the while. The domesticity is a gentle, sweet, beloved comfort. It feels like I’ve known him forever. We clean up together slowly. We’ve got time.

We get ready in our Sunday best- he’s wearing a pale blue button down, a navy blue vest, a navy blue tie. His slacks are navy blue. His suit jacket is navy blue, but there’s pale blue stripes- thin, but thicker and farther apart than pinstripes, vertical and horizontal. The stripes are made out of tiny diagonal lines, but they look solid unless you’re close. It’s all perfectly tailored. His loafers are black. He’s got cufflinks.

“Little fancier than normal church,” he grumbles, and he doesn’t sound happy about it. “But we’re gettin’ married, so.”

I’m getting married. I’ve gone mad, too.

He leads me outside and instructs me to look for little flowers, and I do, not sure why. We end up with a fair few tiny, pale blue and ivory yellow flowers. He does my hair again- a braid that starts at the top of my head, near my hairline, towards one side, and loops around to just beneath my ear. The flowers are braided into my hair. He leads me to a jewelry box- his mothers, and hers before her, passed down through the Amidala line and down to the only son, now given to his wife, he says. He picks them out and gently- oh-so-gently- he puts them on me.

“This,” he says softly, pulling out a ring. “Was Nana’s, too. Pops worked his ass off to save up for it. I’ll put it on at the wedding.”

I nodded, leaning into him. It was simple, small, but beautiful- a thin gold band, a sapphire in the center, surrounded by two small diamonds. Elegant and beautiful. He pulls out another one- thicker, gold. There’s a sapphire and four diamonds, too, but they’re small, embedded in the gold, and it’s clearly a men’s ring.

“Nana got him this afterwards,” he says softly. “This one’ll be mine.”

We get the babies dressed in their Sunday best. They’re very sleepy. Ben mentions how quiet they were, even when they needed something- he got up a dozen times in the night, and I didn’t notice. I think he must be something holy to do that and not complain.

We head out. Service starts at nine; confession opens at six. We get there at five-fifty-two and head inside.

Snoke and Phasma, as well as a few other people who mostly seem to be teenagers, are seemingly putting the final touches on everything. It’s a big, pretty building, with vaulted white walls, stained glass windows, sturdy wooden pews that perfectly match the floor. It looks like a typical church, though I’ve not been in many since my parents were alive, and our last was a bit more modern and rustic rather than old and pristine.

“Ah! Ben,” Snoke says. “Come.”

Ben leads me forward and I make sure to look… However I’m meant to look. Phasma doesn’t look at me once, and Snoke is just as cold and smarmy as ever on the rare occasions that he does.

“Now,” Snoke says. “Was she prepared for our way of life?”

“Yes, sir,” Ben says.

“Was she baptized, as a child?”

Ben looks over at me, and I nod faintly- “Yes, sir,” he says.

“Well, at least there is that,” he says. “You’ll be the first to confession, my boy, before too many of the townsfolk arrive. Then, we’ll move to the sinner.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Come along, then.”

All four of us move, though I’m not sure why. I thought confession was meant to be done alone… But we go into a fancy room. There’s no weird shield with holes, either- just two loveseats facing one another. Ben and I sit on one, and Snoke and Phasma sit on another. Ben sets Richie’s car seat in front of him, and I do the same with Arizona’s.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” Ben says.

Snoke smiles. “Tell me of your sin, my son.”

Ben looks down at the hands in his lap, then over at me. “When I walked her into Maz’s house, I learned that she coveted me- I could see it in her eyes, her smile. She was so- sweet, though. Not temptuous, as some women have been towards me. She looked at me and I saw it- and she just gave a sweet, shy smile and behaved like a lady. I did not covet her just then, but I… Wondered. And when she was so sure and strong, silly and reassuring, during her sister’s birth-... I believe I fell in love with her. Such… Duality, she had. Strong and soft at once. I did not stay long, of course-... And the others were plotting,” Ben looks away, down. “I know it is not a sin to place judgment on the wicked,” he says, and it takes everything in me not to tense and scowl. “I know I did not take part in it. But there is something in my heart that tells me that I have sinned with that. That I have done wrong by God, and my love, and her kin. And… When she… Tried to spare him,” he looks away from me then, his voice pained. “I nearly sinned. I would have stopped Poe, but I-... I know what would have happened. If I had, one of us would have died, and surely, the adulterer would have been judged, regardless. It was all I had to keep her still, emotionally and physically. Seeing her- feeling her grief and terror-... It nearly broke all that I am. I don’t know… What… But it feels like, that night, I sinned. And… It pains me more that I feel as if I have done wrong by her than that I have sinned, and I know that is one of the greatest sins. I… I coveted her after. Not immediately- but, over the course of the night, I could hear her grief. In the morning, I could see her struggling to remain composed. She was angry and in pain and she fought it and behaved as one should. By the time we got to work, I did covet her, so strongly. I… Sinned an awful lot last night,” he closes his eyes. Snoke and Phasma have not reacted once. “She is pure, Father. Doctors sodomized her last year, but Mrs. Bazine Knight checked her maidenhead, and it is whole. She’s been with no others- that is a first for all outsiders, save for my grandfather, who was still just a boy. I did not do so gravely wrong by her as to defile her… But…” Ben clears his throat. “I thought it might aid her to see a couples’ joining. We watched Mr. Ulysses Knight and his wife as they joined. And I was not aroused by witnessing the act, but by… Knowing that I was having her witness it. I desired to watch Mrs. Knight and Miss Hux kiss and hold one another. And, afterwards… When we got home, we showered together. I saw her body, touched her bottom, and I kissed her breast. I would have done more had she asked- she didn’t, and I nearly did. She had to ask me to stop, or-... Lord only knows what I would have done. We shared a bed last night, fully dressed. It is a sin, and I fear it is worse- worse because she does not know that it is a sin. I’m sure she has gathered that the town does not want her to- but… It is not the same. I fear that I have sinned by leading a naive lamb astray. If it matters- and I am sure that it doesn’t… She is so grieved over her kin, naturally, and she begged me not to leave her alone to her grief, and I heard her the night before last-... I could not bring myself to deny her company. I lay there all night, longing to defile her.”

Snoke gives a single nod. “You will be whipped in the stocks for your sin of lust and the defiling of a young maiden’s body, if not her womanhood. This will occur in private after church and before the wedding, so that you may feel the consequence of your sin and the strain it has tainted your marriage with for eternity.”

I am horrified at once- fight-or-flight levels of it- but Ben only nods… Until the last part of the final sentence, wherein he looks down, expression grievous. “Yes, Father.”

Snoke and Phasma look suddenly at me. I think I’m sweating.

I can’t let them do that to him.

How the fuck am I supposed to stop them? I’m breathing heavily.

“Have you ever been to confession?” Phasma says.

It takes me a moment to remember that I still have to play along. “No, ma’am.”

“Mm. In the future, when you are married, your husband is responsible for your sins, and he will deliver the confession and take all penance for it,” she says. I want to scream and flail. “But you are not married, and he is not responsible. Your sins, his own, and his wife’s have been paid for by your kin, with his life. Your grief is God’s punishment to you for sinning such that his life was the payment.”

I don’t think I keep the fury out of my eyes fully, because hers narrow slightly.

“They have been paid for, but still, you must confess them. God will punish you gravely if you do not share every sin that you can remember committing. As Mr. Solo said, you are ignorant to the way of God, but you have been baptized and you will confess your sins to the best of your ability or invoke the wrath of God. You make time and think. Silence is perfectly acceptable as you do. Now, you may confess.”

I look over at Ben for help, who nods, looking slightly concerned. “Forgive me…” I start. It’s easier, looking at him.

“Father,” he breathes. I wasn’t sure if I was talking to him or Phasma.

“Father,” I say. “For I have sinned.”

“Tell me of your sin, lost sinner,” Snoke says.

I blink. I reach out for Ben’s hand but stop, unsure if I’m allowed to- but he takes my hand and settles our arms against the cushions. I grip it and look down at his hand; I can’t even see mine, his is so large. He’s warm, and his hand is so calloused, but not rough- firm. Solid. It soothes me. I close my eyes. “I have… Coveted?... Ben. I have… Felt… Wrath? Towards Poe, and… And most people around town, I suppose. I… Um…” I clear my throat and shift. She said I’m ‘ignorant to the way of God’, so I push aside the town entirely and try and think of what I would consider a sin.

Not much, honestly. I’m not too religious. I do vaguely believe in God. I think hurting people is a sin, unless someone else is in danger. Who have I hurt?

“I… I hurt Rose- Miss Tico?- by telling her the truth when I knew I should not have. I don’t- I don’t know if that’s a sin. But… I hurt her, and I knew it would hurt her, and I couldn’t manage to keep lying. I have… Um… Been deceitful? To avoid friction with others? I don’t know if that- yeah. I… Ah… I don’t know. I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

“That is recently. What older sins can you remember?” Phasma offers.

Oh. She wants- all of them. What do I remember?

Older ones, I can do.

“I… Stole my mother’s wedding ring when I was ten, out of anger, and I threw it in a well. I used to steal whiskey from my father and my brother. I used to- I don’t even know if you know what this is, the town seems- removed- um… I… I watch porn- pornography? I think that might be a sin. I m- ah… Masturbate. I- Am I doing this right?”

“Yes,” Phasma says. “Go on.”

I keep my eyes closed. I can’t remember when I closed them, but I’m pretty sure it was a while ago. What else is a sin? “I felt… Envy that Rose was in love and I was not. I felt envy that Ari took up her time, so that she had less to spend with me. I felt envy that she was getting married and having children and I was not. I… Felt wrath when I found out that Ari and I were bastards- born to our father’s mistress. I felt wrath towards them for a long time, well after they died. I…”

Wrath, I got that. Lust. Envy. Greed? Am I greedy? I don’t think so. Gluttony… I don’t know. I eat a lot. Sloth- not really. That’s six. What’s the other one? Pride. No, I’m not a proud person, I don’t think. Those are the seven big ones. What else is a sin? “I think I’m blasphemous? A-accidentally. I believe in God. I… Love Him. I try to- to be good, I suppose. I only vaguely know what blasphemy is, practically speaking. I use His name in vain more than I should, I know that. I think that’s blasphemy. Ah… I can’t… Actually think of many sins. I think… I think I’m done,” I say, and with that, I open my eyes and stare at the one hand remaining in my lap. Ben squeezes the other one, and I squeeze back. “Oh! Um- the… The watching Baz and Uly- I mean- Mr. and Mrs. Knight, and the… Shower… Things. But he already said them, so I don’t- don’t know if I’m meant to repeat them or not. But I-” I glance away and flush. “Coveted Baz? During- during that. Now, I’m done.”

“Your penance has been paid,” Snoke says simply. I looked up, mouth open, unsure what to say-

“Yes, Father,” Ben breathes.

“Y-yes, Father,” I say.

“From here on out,” Phasma says, and I dare to meet her cold gaze. “You will deliver your sins to Mr. Solo as they happen. You will learn more about the ways of God with each passing week. Following your honeymoon, you are to come to the church at 3 p.m. every Wednesday afternoon until 6 p.m. for Women’s Study, and you will come to the church at 10 a.m. until 2 p.m. every Saturday for Saturday services for the foreseeable future.”

“Very well,” Snoke says. “You are dismissed.”

Ben stands and so do I, and we grab the babies. He leads me out into the main part of the church, where mostly older couples linger and wait. One pair gets up when we appear and walks into the room as we go to sit in the frontmost, middle pew.

“You can’t let them whip you,” I breathe.

Ben blinks. “It’s my penance,” he says simply. “It’s unavoidable, and nothin’ to view with disdain. It is an act of love for God, and I knew I’d be serving great penance when I decided to sin last night. There’re much worse things than pain.”

“Ben, please-”

He shakes his head. “Don’t- not here. Rey, you don’t-... You don’t know. I understand it must be frightenin’, but- I promise you- I’ll be fine. In public-... You gotta act right. Here, of all places. Please, don’t argue. With no kin, you’d have to serve your own penance…” His eyes are pleading as they finally find me. “Just sit and smile and try not to think until the weddin’s over. It’ll all be fine.”

I close my eyes. I feel like a caged animal. I want to scream. “I can’t take this. I can’t do this. I can’t.”

He drags me closer, wrapping an arm around me. “You can. I’ll help you. You’re strong, anyhow- could do it alone. But you ain’t gotta, and I’m right here.”

I feel my face twist up. I can’t take this. He pulls me close and I cry into his pale blue collar and he rubs my back.

I don’t feel strong. I haven’t felt strong at all. I feel stretched too thin and terrified.

Arizona fusses. I pull away and pop her paci back into her mouth, and she settles. I dry my eyes and we sit there with the babies, waiting for church, for a little while- until Ulysses and Baz arrive, and they agree to watch them so we can go look at dresses.

I pick an ivory one, of course. They’re all turtlenecks, but this one has lace- the solid gown is a tube top that stops almost impossibly high on my chest, and the lace is nearly opaque, but it’s also a beautiful dress. There are beads and jewels. They all seem impeccable. It fits like a glove. It’s set aside.

Rose is led in sometime later, still bound. She moves slow; her knees are together. I’m crying the instant I see her. She looks at me like she doesn’t see me; she’s tired and angry.

“They’re good,” I whisper. “The babies.”

“Good.”

Finn picks out her dress. He doesn’t consult her, and she doesn’t seem to care. She refuses to try it on. Finn’s angry; he sets it aside for ‘later’ and then we walk out to the church again. Rose sits on the other side of Arizona, Finn just beyond her, and she glares at nothing.

I shouldn’t have told her yet. I did this to her.

No, it’s not you. It’s them. But she could have been blissfully unaware until the babies were out and safe.

Soon enough, it’s nine, and Snoke stands before us, Phasma sitting politely behind.

“Good people of our fine town,” Snoke says, all charisma. “Our Heavenly Father smiles down upon you all. Let him bless us with his favor, and keep our town safe, happy, and prosperous.”

“Amen,” the town says in unison, save for me and Rose.

“Now,” he says. “We have newcomers in our midst- Miss Rey Anne Hux and Miss Rose Elaine Tico. May we accept them readily into the arms of Alderaan, and forgive them of their trespasses that transpire because of their sinful upbringings. May God have mercy on their wicked souls.”

“Amen,” the town says, and Ben squeezes my hand as he does.

“We have welcomed three infants into our town in the past week,” Snoke says. “May God smile upon little Darcy Johnson, little Arizona Hux, and little Richard Hux with love, and may he bless them with pious lives.”

“Amen.”

“Now,” he says. “As is customary during the welcoming of newcomers, today’s service will cover the way of life that God intends for us all. I hope the reminder will aid you all in remembering, as well. As we in Alderaan know,” he says, smiling and looking over everyone. “A girl belongs wholly to her father, and a woman belongs wholly to her husband. Woman was a gift bestowed unto Adam, quicker than animals and slower than man. She is a Godly vessel sent forth to deliver new souls unto the earth, and she is honored with such great purpose…”

It goes on. And on. And on.

“And it is with great reverence that I inform our new sisters of the tale of Benjamin Kylo- known to many of us humbly as Ben Solo- a gift in his own right, bestowed unto us by our Heavenly Father above…”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Rose says out loud, not quiet at all but not louder than normal, when the ‘second coming of Christ’ bit comes around.

Snoke’s eyes turn towards Rose, and an eerily, piercing silence settles over the church.

Rose, please. Please, please, please, please.

“Pardon?” Snoke says, icy and lethal.

“This town is batshit insane,” Rose says. “This asshole isn’t fucking Jesus. You’re not fucking pious. You’re fucking insane murderers and rapists and God hates you all.”

Ulysses, on the other side of Richie, sniffles. He looks neutral, but I’m fairly certain he wants to laugh.

“Mr. Knight,” Snoke says. Ulysses’ face falls. Ben sits up, looking terrified. An older man in the pew to the right of us stands.

“Father.”

“Detain the sinner.”

“Eat shit, fucking human refuse-” Rose snarls, and her obscenities quickly grow… Something more than obscene. The Mr. Knight that stood- one I don’t recognize- walks over. I look at Ben, who shakes his head and then glances pointedly at each of the children. I start crying, shaking. She wrestling with her captor, screaming and snarling and kicking. She kicks Arizona’s car seat and the girl starts crying; terrified, drag her out of the car seat and clutch her, rocking.

Rose meets my eyes when Mr. Knight has her. “You’re a coward and a traitor! You are not my Rey!”

I close my eyes and I clutch Arizona. I’m doing it for her- for Richie- I have to keep them safe- I have to- Rose would understand- I have to keep them safe. I have to. I have to.

She’s dragged deeper into the church. No one says anything until we can’t hear her shrieking anymore, and it takes a long, long time.

“Forgive me,” Snoke says sometime later. “We have but one newcomer, Miss Rey-.”

“No,” I breathe. Ben whimpers, faintly, quietly.

“Pardon?”

“I apologize,” I force out. “It- hurts-”

“I know, child,” Snoke says, and his voice is… Gentle. “Take solace in the knowledge that she is God’s to be handled.”

I’m sobbing then, trying to stay quiet. Ben pulls me closer and holds me tightly. I manage to silence myself, but the tears are still flowing, and I’m shaking in his arms, still clutching Arizona.

Ari, I’m so sorry. I tried- I’m so sorry. It wasn’t enough. I’m so sorry. Rose… Please- God. God, if you’re there- help her. Somehow. I don’t know. Let her get out. Let her go without pain, if you can’t, or won’t, or… Please. Please. “Please,” I sputter softly. This time, my word goes unaddressed.

Ben is shaking, too.

The shit that Snoke is spewing continues. It seems endless. The grief and pain is a physical, visceral, searing sensation, racking over all of me.

This time, there’s no adrenaline. There’s nothing to flail against. I have to sit there and hold Arizona and be as silent as I can force myself to be. What happened to Ari was wretched, but there are so many worse things, and Lord only knows how many of them Rose is going through-

“I can’t,” I squeak as softly as I’m able. Ben takes Arizona, hands her to Ulysses, and he ushers me deeper into the church.

As soon as we’re out of the oppressive air of that room, and the door closes, I collapse and cry out in agony.

But then I’m moving, lurching forward. “Where is she?” I hiss.

“Rey-”

“Rose! Rosie!” I shriek, and then, I’m sprinting, and Ben is following after me, and somehow, he doesn’t catch up.

I can hear her. She’s muffled now. I zero in-

“Goddamnit, Rey!” Ben screams, and he sounds gutted.

A door opens. A man is there- the man. Tall, older. Long black hair speckled with grey. I can barely see him. I stop. “Please,” I beg. Ben grabs me, but he doesn’t start dragging me away. “Don’t hurt her. What- what are you- what is she-?”

“She will serve penance for her blasphemy against the holy town of Alderaan,” he says, and he’s smug, arrogant. Enjoying this.

“How?” I snarl.

“That is between her and God.”

I sob, almost collapsing. Ben catches me. The man chuckles. “Ren,” Ben says through clenched teeth. “It is encouraged for one to know the available penances and what their consequences for their sins may be-”

“The penance for blasphemy of such accord is flagellation, mortification, and death,” Ren says. “The town is otherwise indisposed. Her mortification can therefore only be sodomy, the most mortification one can suffer alone-”

“Please,” I beg. “Please, no. She’s all I have- please- don’t- she doesn’t know-”

“She does,” Ren says. “And you have the town of Alderaan to comfort you. We welcome you with open arms, ma’am, and forgive you as the Lord does for ties to such wicked folks as the adulterer and his loose-lipped whore.”

I grip Ben’s arms and struggle not to scream, to curse, to fight. I squeal softly. My eyes are open but I can’t see for the tears. “She’s a mother,” I try. “She has to care for her children-”

“It would be a sin of the highest accord to allow this woman to indoctrinate her children into such folly.”

“Ben, please,” I try, and I fight to stand, but I’m shaky and twitchy. “Please, please, please…”

“I will serve her penances of flagellation and mortification,” he says suddenly, firmly. “I am Kylo and I take responsibility for her sin. I understand full responsibility will not be given, but I will serve her penance of flagellation and mortification.”

Ren clears his throat. “Very well.”

Someone has to die. All four of us are fucked if it’s Ben, and I doubt they’d let him, anyway. I’m sure he’d try if they would. I can die-

Ben won’t let me-

… Rose can’t look after them, or get them out.

Ari, please, what do I do? Please, please, please- I can’t- I can’t-

“Come.”

Ben moves me forward. He has to pick me up and carry me.

“Sodomy cannot be performed against Benjamin Kylo.”

“I know,” Ben says. He might be crying.

“The girl, then?”

“Rey, you have to make a choice,” Ben breathes.

“Me!” I scream. “Me!”

“Ben?”

“Rey, as my bride,” he says, and it wrecks him. “Will serve Miss Tico’s-... Miss Tico’s penance of sodomy.”

Rose is trying to talk. I try to blink, to see-... She’s bound, her clothes half cut, her body half exposed. Her eyes are wide. She looks like a wild animal. Something’s stuffed into her mouth, bound into it with cloth.

“I will-... I will give Miss Tico her pen- penance of death,” Ben says. He is crying.

“Very well.”

He sets me down on a bench beside a window. He pulls out his gun, hidden by his suit jacket, and walks to the corner. He’s loading the gun, I think, but I stare at Rose and I shiver. I think she’s trying to apologize.

“I love you, Rosie,” I whimper.

I think she says it back.

“To the town of Agua Fria rode a stranger one fine day. Hardly spoke to folks around him- didn’t have too much to say…” my voice is ugly, jarbled. Rose closes her eyes and she might be humming.

Ben walks closer. He’s still crying. He puts the barrel to her temple and she’s shaking, but she can’t seem to move much. “And- and he’s here to do some- business with the- the big iron on his hip- the big iron on his-”

Bang! “H-hi-i-ip…”

I fall forward and I sob, shaking.

“Your penance has been paid,” Ren says, and I can barely hear him.

“We will care for the body before the mortification,” Ben rasps.

“Okay.”

I sit there and I sob and I holler and I sputter, choking, covered in snot, until seven eternities pass and then, someone- Ben- scoops me up and lays me down.

I keep my eyes closed and it’s just Ben. It’s just Ben. It’s just Ben.

My dress is hoisted, my nylons and my panties are lowered. My eyes are closed. It’s just Ben. He’s holding my hand at an impossible angle, but it’s just Ben.

My legs are spread. He’s on the table in front of me, kneeling. It’s just Ben.

Spit. That’s vile. But it’s Ben.

Anal. Sodomy. It’s just Ben.

It hurts- fuck, it really, really hurts. It’s just Ben. I squeeze his hand and I lay there and it’s just Ben.

It feels horrible. It burns, like there’s a fire in my body. It’s just Ben. It’s just Ben.

A lot more than seven eternities past, and then there’s a lake of fire being spilled, and it burns worse. Someone grunts and it sounds so unfamiliar- it’s just Ben, it’s just Ben, it’s just Ben.

It’s gone. It doesn’t stop the pain. It’s throbbing and wet and horrific. I cling to Ben’s hand.

Zipping. I open my eyes. I have to know it wasn’t Ben.

It wasn’t. It’s not better. “Your penance has been paid.”

Ben wouldn’t do that to me.

Snoke and Phasma walk in.

“What?” he asks simply.

“Miss Tico’s penance. She did not know fully. She served part of it- as did Rey, as will I,” Ben says. He’s still crying.

“Ah,” Snoke says. “Off to it, then. Before the wedding.”

To the next room over. Ben is stripped and put in the stocks. They flog him, then whip him. The most reaction he gives is the twitch of an eye, even as his back is bleeding and torn. Someone else is there, too- Ren doles out the punishment, I’m there, Snoke and Phasma- and another. He tends to the wounds and wraps them, helps Ben into his clothing.

“Your penance has been paid.”

Chapter Text

It’s a blur.

I change.

I wait outside the church beside Chewie. I hate this man. I hate this town. I want to go home.

Music. I’m walking. People stand and watch. I’m numb.

I stand in front of Ben. I can’t really see him through the veil- just enough to know that it’s him. Just enough that he’s a comfort. Then, the veil is lifted, and his face is somewhat haunted but mostly neutral. His aura is far worse off. There’s a lethal edge to it, but when he’s looking at me, it’s a blunt edge.

Snoke speaks. He’s marrying us. I dissociate. Ben speaks.

“I vow to take care of you from now until death. I vow to guide and provide for you for evermore. I vow to accept your being with mine, until we are one in the eyes of both God Almighty and man alike.”

It’s brainwashed gibberish. This isn’t the real one. This is an act to get what I want. I will get us out of here and we can do it for real after that.

Snoke is talking. I listen so that I can repeat.

“I vow to obey and submit to you until death. I vow to follow and tend to you for evermore. I vow to accept your being with mine, until we are one in the eyes of both God Almighty and man alike.”

It’s brainwashed gibberish. I sound like a robot. I feel nothing but the strong, somewhat chaotic beat of my heart, and the throbbing that remains below.

Someone is behind me. Someone is under my skirt, spreading my legs.

“She is pure.”

Someone is no longer behind me, nor beneath my skirt, and I close my legs.

“She is pure,” Snoke repeats. “But she is wicked and untamed.”

Ben stiffens, eyes turning towards Snoke. The edge is as sharp as a knife.

“Her joining will be witnessed by the town, as a reminder to her that she belongs wholly to her husband, as a reminder to those who have partaken in her partial defilement that she belongs solely to her husband.”

Ben is overtaken with the lethal edge, neutral as his face remains. His eyes move towards the town-

No. Towards the babies. Baz is holding Richie and Ulysses is holding Arizona.

The edge doesn’t soften. He just pulls it in closer, hiding it. He meets my eyes, and he’s not a knife. He’s a rock. A stoic, numb, solid rock.

Two of the Knights are told to move a table, and I’m bent forward over it. Rather than look out at the town, I close my eyes. I trust Ben. If this is done, it is done because it has to be. I don’t care if they see. I care that whatever happens helps us get the twins out of here as soon as possible, safely.

Zipping. But this time, it really is Ben. I don’t care if they watch. Clothes are shifted but not removed.

His thumb finds my clit. The church is silent. I dissociate. He strums me until I’m wet, but it isn’t much. I can only get so numb. I try and brainstorm, but that doesn’t help, so I let myself dissociate more.

“Benjamin.”

“Soon. She belongs wholly and solely to me. I will touch her as I please.”

He’s pushing in then.

He’s big. It might sting, but whatever sensation occurs, the pain from the ‘penance’ is still stronger. He starts off slow and inoffensive, like he’s hoping that’s all he has to do. Then, he’s railing me over a table in the church in front of this Godforsaken town and I can’t dissociate anymore.

My eyes open. My body thinks it feels vaguely good, but it’s a tired reaction.

He leans forward. He’s panting in my ear. “I’m sorry,” he breathes.

“Don’t be.”

He curls around me. One of his palms is laying flat over my ribs, as close to my heart as he can get without groping me. There are children in the church.

This is sick. This is horrific. I force myself not to cry. I don’t want to scare the children. I don’t know what this will do to them, already.

“I can’t finish,” he snarls after what might have been a long time. “I can’t, with people- staring- at- my- wife.”

“You will perform your husbandly duty.”

He’s angry. His panting breaths are all but snarls. After a moment, he’s tucked into the back of my head, grunting. Then, his lips find my ear. “We’ll go. We’ll go. This will be over soon.”

It’s as forward as he can be, I assume. One of his hands close over mine. My legs might be sore, and my bum doesn’t hurt so much. It’s either been a while, or the vague and reluctant arousal is muting it at long last.

I want to go home and cry into his arms for seven days straight.

How do I make him come?

I clench up. Tighter might be better; he grunts. I do weird shit with those muscles down there. I did kegels for period cramps, because Rose said they might help; I do those. How do I make him come?

“I love you, Ben,” I whisper.

He lets out a deep, grievous sound, clutches me tightly, and then hums into my ear. I’m pretty sure he’s coming; his hips snap unevenly, and there’s warmth in my belly. “I love you, too,” he breathes. He grows still, still holding me. “I’ll take care of you,” he breathes. “We’ll take care of the babies.”

He pulls back. Clothing is adjusted. He stands me up. The table is removed.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

This is a sick fucking joke, and no one is laughing but the devil himself. He loves this fucking town, and the madman running it, and he’s twisted fucking wife.

Ben spins me- it’s dramatic. He pulls me close and kisses me deeply. It’s hungry, but not lustful. Hungry for me in a sexless, loving way. Three deep kisses and he pulls away, and I look up at him. He’s angry and determined and beautiful.

It is Ben. And it’s going to be okay. We’ll make sure of it, together.

We walk out of the church. Ulysses and Baz follow. I clutch Ben’s hand and resist the urge to steal both children and run as fast as my legs can take me.

“Can you two watch the children?” Ben asks in a low voice. “It feels like a slight to let them go to Maz and Chewie, like they would.”

“Of course,” Baz says gently.

I look at her. I look at Ulysses. I look vaguely away, then back at Baz. She nods.

It’s all that’s needed. He’ll go, too. I look ahead again.

Into Ben’s truck. The townsfolk throw rice. That’s not good, but it’s the least of their sins. Snoke leads a prayer as Ben drives off, leaving the entire town standing with their heads bowed.

“Poe Dameron. Finn- Williams, or whatever it was. That Ren motherfucker. Snoke and Phasma.” I say.

“Yes,” he says. His knuckles are white. He looks over at me like he’s done something horrible. I tuck my hand into the crook of his elbow.

Home. Shower. Maybe I should want to cry in bed, but I don’t. I drag him out to the stable and I point at Maul. I want the wild one. I need to feel. He prepares the horse and then we’re on him, gallivanting over the great expanse of land behind our temporary home, the only safe haven in this hell. I manage to gasp sometimes, when Maul does something particularly daring. Ben slowly stops reeling him in. If it weren’t for Ben, I’d have fallen off long ago and prayed the horse would trample me- but Ben is here, and I don’t. I think I feel alive, but it’s strange. I think I can feel my brother and sister. I cry, but it’s not sad. It isn’t happy. It just is.

I’m more sore than I’ve ever been in my life for three very good reasons when we finally get off of Maul, tuck him back into his stall. The Knight cousins are here, tending to the ranch. None of them comment on seeing us; maybe this counts enough as not leaving, or maybe they’re good people, or maybe it’s both. Alek looks at me like I’m a ghost, and he’s sad I’m dead. I am, too.

We go inside. We shower again, then bathe. It’s a big tub; it’s a big house; Ben is big. I sit naked in his lap and I stare at the ceiling.

“The joining,” I say. “It didn’t hurt me. Inside or out.”

It did. But only when I realized how much it hurt Ben. I couldn’t fucking care less about them watching.

He pulls me close. “I took that for you.”

I close my eyes. I don’t want him to hurt so that I won’t. I want to do this together. I can’t speak right now, so I don’t.

We get out. I tend to his wounds, which look horrible but don’t seem too bad. He seems indifferent, but it must hurt. We lay down. Maybe we should eat, but neither of us mention it.

We should have had sex last night.

Coulda, shoulda, woulda. What now?

“We need a plan,” I say.

“Next Monday,” he says. “Every Monday, Poe and the Knights are on guard duty. I’ll have to talk with them- there isn’t enough time to do it safely tomorrow. We’ll go to Snoke’s for dinner, and we’ll… We’ll tie ‘em up, and the Knights’ll get Poe and bring ‘em there. We’ll get Finn. We’ll take ‘em all to Ren- we’ll tell ‘em Finn and Poe were doin’ somethin’ or other, keep his guard down. He’s a tough sonnuva- we’ll need his grandkids’ help, an’ they will. They hate the old bastard. We’ll take ‘em out. We’ll get gone- no cars. Traps on the roads, most of the time, an’ after-... There’ll be a lot of ‘em, for a while, prob’ly. I got four horses- you can learn to ride Padme. We’ll take care of them, an’ me, you, the kids, Baz, and Ulysses are out.”

“Are there phones out here?”

“No.”

“None?”

“No.”

“We’ll get to a city,” I say softly. “We’ll get to a phone, call… Call the cops, I guess. Paige- Rose’s older sister- she’ll come up. There are other babies in this town, too.”

“An’ then what?” Ben breathes.

“I don’t really know,” I whisper. I squeeze his hand. “We’ll face it together. Ari-... He was a lawyer. A fair chunk of change under his belt. I guess-... I guess his will kicks in, and it goes to- to me. We’ll get a ranch somewhere for your animals, if you want. Close enough to a fucking city, though.”

His arms tighten around me. I’m laying on him, my back to his front. I turn my head and lay my forehead against his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

There isn’t much else to say. We sleep, and like a gift from God- the real one, whatever the fuck He’s up to that isn’t what this town believes- I don’t dream.

Over the next few days, I learn that riding a horse is difficult and fairly frightening. I learn that Ben would probably eat dirt if I put it on a plate and set it in front of him. I learn that Ben is laser-focused when he puts his mind to it. I learn that Ben doesn’t really seem to give a shit about pain. I learn that Ben sounds like a kid when he cries, and he folds into me and clutches onto me like we’ll die if he lets go, and I think that might be true. I learn that Kurt is, well, curt, but he’s funny and quick. I learn that Ulysses likes anything that’s difficult, far and beyond his wife. I learn that Victor is stoic and calm, until he’s angered, and then he’s scary and strong. I learn that Trey is annoying but he means well. I learn that Carter likes to flirt with me, but only because he thinks it’s funny when Ben scowls at him. I learn that Alek is shy and bright and boyish and a fair bit immature, even for his age. I learn that Ben adores them.

I start to adore them, too.

I see a few more thorns, but Ben is tired and healing, so I leave them be. We have things to do. The thorns that he has aren’t hurting anyone, and they can wait.

We’re not supposed to help out on the ranch, but we do. They’re not supposed to come in for lunch everyday, but they do.

Ben prays constantly. His lips move and words don’t follow. Sometimes, he’ll do the cross thing afterwards, if he looks particularly frazzled by whatever’s making him pray. At night, he prays out loud. He’s a sweet, sweet man. He talks to God first, then Jesus, then Mary. He talks to his grandmother, then his mother, then his grandfather. After a day or two, tentatively, he talks to Ari and Rose. And then we’ll roll over, usually curled into each other, and go to sleep.

Alek is tasked with teaching Padme, because his brother and cousins are too big. She doesn’t like him; I don’t think she likes anyone but Ben and I. But we’re running out of time. Maybe she knows that, somehow, because she’s trying, even if it’s clear that she doesn’t want to.

It’s Friday night that we’re laying bed, ready for sleep, and he stiffens below the metaphorical belt. He says nothing. I kiss his chest. “We can take care of it, if you want.”

“I don’t.”

I kiss his cheek. “Okay. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Our ‘honeymoon’ ends when we go to church again. Snoke reads from the bible. I missed the babies, who were being fed by the other nursing woman in town- her name is Jannah, and she can’t quite look me in the eye, and I can’t tell why not. Confession is uneventful. Church is uneventful. Afterwards, a small family approaches and asks about setting riding lessons for their son up. Ben makes plans like we’ll be here for him to go through with them. He mentions that it felt odd when we drive home.

We shower. We walk to bed. He lays me down, looks me up and down, and he stiffens again, slowly. He seems content to just look at me, and I lay there as it happens. Only when it seems done growing does he meet my eye. It’s an eloquent silence. No words are spoken, but a million things are shared. He drops to his knees and spreads me open, eyeing me in silent fascination. He touches me and I watch him and the arousal comes easily. The babies fuss; he tells me to stay, washes his hands, get dressed. He goes and takes care of them, comes back, undresses. He looks at me and touches me again, and then-

“This is a sin,” he says, and leans forward, dragging my hips closer.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s kissing my core like he kisses my mouth. It still feels nice. I can’t see his face anymore so I let my eyes flutter closed, then reach down and bury my fingers in his hair. His arms wrap around my hips and hold me still.

He learns quickly. He must be paying attention, gauging what I like. His tongue travels over everything and learns exactly how to probe at it all. He takes my clit in between his lips and suckles. He likes to push it inside of me and fuck me with it a lot; he always grunts and groans when he does, eyes flicking up towards mine, his expression like I’m giving him the greatest gift. I moan his name like a prayer of my own, and it is.

I come. So many times, over and over. Eventually, he shoves himself up and climbs on top of me, and he kisses my mouth like he’s dying, looking for salvation just beyond my lips. He rocks against me, little more than twitching. His hands are all over, groping and kneading. He kisses me until I’m squirming, until I can’t think and can scarcely breathe, and then his mouth is all over, tasting every last part of me. A man on death row savagely savoring his last meal.

And then, my knees are bent up towards my chest. “Does that hurt?”

“No.”

He thrusts against my folds, slickening himself up, and groans. “Fuck,” he breathes. “Fuck.”

“Ben,” I sigh as his head flicks over my sensitive clit. He shudders and looks down; it takes him a few tries, but he notches against my entrance and pushes in. He groans and shudders, then leans forward, moving his hands to the bed on either side of my head. I bury one in his hair as he sinks slowly home, and I focus on every last moment of the feeling of him stretching me out.

This is heaven.

“Ben,” I moan.

“Hurts?” he grunts, nervous-

“No! It’s so good- Ben, it’s so good…”

He shudders and lets out a noise, falling onto his elbows, shifting his knees. “So much better,” he breathes. “You feel so fuckin’ perfect, Rey. Fuck.”

Slowly out, slowly in, like he’s testing the waters.

“Faster, Daddy,” I breathe, and he shudders and groans at that- noted. “Please, Daddy, more-”

He lets go. It’s like something snaps. He fucks into me, rough and sure, huffing and groaning.

It’s ecstasy. It’s pure divinity. It’s wild and sweet and pure. He’s sweaty and he’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. He fucks me like we really were made for one another. And his eyes, cloudy with near-delirious lust, are flooded with love.

Harder, faster, more, more, more. Hours, maybe. Hours of bliss. I’m hot and I’m whimpering. I can’t remember how many times I’ve come, but the aftershocks are incessant and delightful. It’s almost too much when he cries out softly but savagely, right in my ear, like a faint but strong war cry, and I feel his warmth again. His thrusts are slower, gentler, but full. He seats himself inside and grinds gently as he softens, letting out a soft strangled noise. Then, he pulls out and lays down on top of me, and I hold him as tightly as I can with the healing wounds on his back. And that’s how we drift off together, slick and wet, exhausted, the air full of love and sated need.

That’s how it’s supposed to be.

Chapter Text

Nightmares. They’re not nearly as bad, and they don’t wake me up.

When I do wake up, it’s terrifying. There’s noise- clashing, breaking, screaming-

I sit up. Darkness. Cold.

“Ben?” I call out, already stumbling forward through the groggy haze. It’s dark in our room and Ben is not in it- and worse, someone or something is in the kitchen, moving, breaking-

“Damnit!” Ben’s voice roars- from the kitchen. “God fucking damnit, piece of everloving shit!”

The babies scream, crying, as I open the door. “Ben,” I whisper, terrified-

More quietly, Ben says, “Jesus H. Christ,” as he collapses back against the counter. I stare at him for a long moment- physically, he is fine- and I stumble towards the babies’ room. I get them both up and listen to him stomp angrily out of the backdoor, seemingly as quietly as he can bring himself to.

The babies calm down. I feed them with the pumped milk I’d started storing up. I’d started making more as I did it, and Jannah had said that if they need more, she makes plenty. I’ve just gotten them both tucked back into their bassinets when Ben leans on the door jam.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, voice hoarse and dark and low. “I… Forgot about them, I guess. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I mumble. I turn to walk towards him, and he all but drags me into his chest. “What- what?”

“Goddamn schedule change,” Ben growls. “Last fucking minute, too. The Knights are pissed- they’re never all working on the same day. Our plan- it’s fucked-”

“We’ll think of a new-” I start, even as some piercing, bone-chilling terror coarses through me.

“He’s going to be thinking of new ones, too,” Ben says, voice passionate and righteous and angry. “He’s seen the differences, now that he’s- he’s done what he has. We’re not getting out while he’s running things.”

I close my eyes and say nothing.

“Damnit- he knows the Knights’d help me. He knows- he knows fuckin’ everything. Every goddamn thing. I’m a fucking fool. How did I not see? Fuckin’ Trey was right- shit’s- I should have seen earlier. Known earlier. So goddamn concerned with myself- everything else ain’t my damned business- between them and God-” Ben stops abruptly to shudder. “I’m a blind, damned fool, and I done damned my own self. Buried us all.” And that last bit is so grievous, so pained. As if he’s taken all of the blame onto himself.

I pull back and look up at him, keeping my palms on his chest, but he’s looking at the babies. I wait, but his eyes always avoid mine- “Ben Solo, you look at me.”

His jaw clenches then and his eyes finally find mine, studying me. Waiting.

“Don’t put this on yourself,” I start, and he rolls his eyes- I grip his shirt in one hand and reach up at the other, forcing him to look at me. “Listen to me!”

He focuses again, then gives a reluctant, still-angry nod. He’s fuming, the bad energy wafting off of him like smoke off a fire.

“You were born into this. They told you it was right, and you were a child. You believed them- trusted them. You didn’t know any better. You minded your own business because it’s safer for everyone that way- I’ve been here less than two weeks, most of it pent up with you, and I’ve learned that. Maybe you could’ve done more, but that doesn’t matter. You did your best with what was given to you- and they were sure that what you were given wasn’t shit. What happened can’t be changed, do not lose your head dwelling on it. Pull your head out of your ass- your nose out of the past- and look at what you can do now. Now that you can see.”

He shudders and looks away. “All I can see is the past,” he forces out, voice breathy and jagged. He has more to say, but I interrupt him-

I can’t let him dwell.

“No, you can’t. All you can see is what you think is the past- and you’re wrong. Because of what they did to you- all of you townsfolk. I assume you’ve been around children? They are sponges. You played the hand they dealt- you rolled a weighted die. You did your best. As a young, impressionable child, they told you how the world supposedly worked, and like a young, impressionable child, you believed them and used what you thought was true to try and do good. You are not responsible for what they have made you believe. Sit with that, while I think- because they don’t know me. When you believe that, we will regroup. Because if we try to run while you dwell, you will die, and those children will be stuck here. To grow up lied to, just like you.”

His eyes are closed by the time I’m done, his lip quivering. After a moment, he gives a nod, then drags me into his chest and clutches onto me. “You’re strong, Rey. And smart. And so, so good.”

“So are you.”

He gives a bitter, mirthless laugh. “It don’t feel like it.”

“I don’t, either.”

His brow knits like that hurts him to hear, and he squeezes me. I tuck into the crook of his neck and hold him. We’re silent for a long while, and then, it’s Ben who breaks it.

“To the town of Agua Fria rode a stranger one fine day…”

His voice is low, and soothing, and riddled with pain and a broken attempt at strength and solidarity. I lean into him and run my hands up and down his arms, clutch at his biceps, savoring the low rumble of his beautiful voice and the movement of his throat.

I pull back when he’s done, run my fingers through his hair, and he gazes at me like I’m the answer to every terrified, broken prayer. I smile at him- small and genuine- as some sweet thing consumes my chest, as tears form in my eyes.

It’s bittersweet, and beautiful. I wish I didn’t have to feel it, but it is beautiful and deep and true.

“Ari loves you,” I breathe. “He’s seen all you’ve done for me- and the babies- and what you could manage to do for Rose, and he loves you.”

Ben’s eyes close, and he bends over to lay his forehead against mine. “He’ll help me take care’a you three. Whisper in my head, keep me from doin’ something what’s stupid.”

I giggle softly, give him a chaste, loving peck. “He’s always been good at deterring stupidity, try as hard as I have to be stupid.”

We linger for a bit, holding and sharing a few more sweet words, before he gently pulls me back into the kitchen. “We oughtta get cookin’,” he says. “Ulysses is bringin’ Baz- she’s fuckin’ pissed, as I understand it. They’re comin’ by a bit early for breakfast.”

“Okay,” I say. “Probably good- Baz isn’t from around here, either. Be good to have someone else to run ideas by… Especially as I doubt that they’re particularly honest during confession. Snoke will know less about them, inherently.”

Ben nods solemnly. “I’ll be admitting less, too,” he says. “Slower, though. Try and do… Damage control. Make him think I understand, move past it. We’ll make him think losin’ Rosie scared you into givin’ up.”

“Right,” I say quietly. It’s a knife to the heart, and I keep moving, anyway.

It’s a knife to the gut that it’s getting easier, my psyche adjusting to functioning through the horror and the grief-

Let go of the past. Look forward. I reset, and then, I check in on myself again.

I feel… Exhilarated. Eager, anxious, ready.

There’s no rush. The babies won’t understand anything. Me and Ben can keep ourselves safe. I want to rush, full steam ahead- but we can’t risk it. Can’t get found out.

“Slow and steady wins the race,” I barely whisper, and he gives a solemn nod. “We won’t dawdle, but we can’t rush.”

“Right. We only got one shot. They ain’t nearly so forgivin’ to men.”

Breakfast is just finished when Ulysses and Baz come in through the back. She is livid, all but shaking, eyes wide and wild.

“Let’s just fucking skin him,” she snarls under her breath.

“Oh, we will,” I say coldly. “We have to do this right- get this right, and then, we will fucking skin him.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ulysses says, and I look at him- and it’s clear he’s angry, itching. Eager and anxious, exhilarated and ready. “What’s the plan?”

I think as we set the table. Ulysses scoffs just as the first possibility enters my head-

“Benjamin Kylo. Son of God, yeah? A coming of Christ?”

“Yes,” Ben says.

“And the whole town believes that?”

“Yeah,” Ulysses says.

“So… One would think they’d be loyal to Benjamin Kylo, son of God, before a preacher?”

Ben and Ulysses lock eyes. Baz is thinking, calculating. Considering. I serve her first, even though I’m supposed to serve Ulysses first.

“They worship you,” Baz says lightly, appraising Ben. “They’re all scared of Snoke- no one fucking likes him. Everyone loves Ben- and they think he’s the son of God.”

“I am the son of God,” Ben says thoughtlessly.

… That’s an oddly shaped thorn. I doubt it could hurt someone unless someone tried to remove it.

I look at Ulysses, and I’m pretty sure he buys it, too. And since he seems like the most clear-headed local, I’ll bet that means that there isn’t anyone who doubts it.

“We gotta go slow,” I say, serving myself. I’m supposed to do that last. “We gotta go slow, if we can do this at all. Change the tides more fully into our corner. Starting with people we can change without Snoke or Phasma or their allies noticing- you’d all know who better than I would. Snoke got it wrong- I was pure, they all heard Mitaka say so- and he forced the son of God to join with his wife before the whole town, children and all… Maybe call it blasphemy, I don’t know what this town’ll believe…”

Ben and Ulysses look at one another as I serve Ben first.

“Finn’s fuckin’ fuming that Snoke offed the girl he wanted,” Ulysses said quietly, and I prickle. “I know we hate him, too, but that don’t mean we can’t use him. And, hell, if we get him to start with it- Snoke might off him for us. And that’s a sweet kind of justice- him losing to the same system he tried to exploit to get his way. And that’d just turn the town more against Snoke, too.”

“Yeah…” Ben says, but he looks at me. “Are you okay with that? Snoke being the one to lay judgement?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Long as he’s dead, I don’t give a shit. I’m not too… Look, making people suffer isn’t my gig. Even if they deserve it. I’m not too happy thinking about the suffering he’d get before dying, but I wouldn’t shed a tear. I want them gone for what they did- and so they can’t stop us or do it again. But I don’t want to get them more pain than there has to be.”

Ben’s eyes soften. He looks almost sad. Baz’s lips are pursed- she thinks that stupid, but she’s trying not to let on- but Ulysses is looking at me like that is stupid and boring-

“You’re an angel, Rey Solo.”

Rey Solo. I like that. I lean into Ben, then get to serving Ulysses last. He should have been first.

No one cares. No one here cares about those stupid rules.

“We usin’ Finn, or ain’t we?” Ulysses finally says as I sit down.

“We are, but we’re not purposefully gonna lead him to suffer. If Snoke catches him- okay. If not, we’ll get him, and we’ll make it quick. Quick with all of them.”

“Mkay,” Ulysses says, and then, Ben says grace. We eat our biscuits and gravy. We tend to the ranch.

It’s just after lunch when me and Ben are in the stable, and he’s stroking a hand through Padme’s mane. “You wanna try an’ ride her?”

I put my hand on her neck, look into her big, beautiful eyes. She looks back at me, and damnit, it feels like she’s saying can we? I lay my forehead on hers.

“I’m not gonna hurt her, am I?”

“No. No way.”

I kiss her gently. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

It doesn’t go very well, but I don’t hurt her. I nearly piss myself on top of her, and I’m pretty sure she’s just as scared, but it’s a bonding experience nonetheless. Affronted as she is, afterwards, she leans into me for comfort.

“I love you, beautiful girl.”

She whinnies like she’s saying it back, and I choose to believe that she is.

The week passes. Ulysses uses Finn like a puppet, whispering into his ear and feeding his indignance, his anger, and Finn vents and whispers to other people- Snoke did it all wrong, me and Rose, and wronged Finn and Ben… The aura of the town changes slowly. Sunday rolls around before too long, after another week of me and Padme learning, of me and Ben growing closer. And a week of growing closer to the Knights, and specifically Ulysses and Baz.

The vibes are off during church, and Snoke can sense it, but not why. He’s tense beneath his usual mannerisms, frustrated. Worried- scared.

And he should be. Because hell is happily awaiting his fast-approaching arrival. I leave church feeling smug, predatory. I leave church feeling like I’m finally getting somewhere- getting out.

And then, I throw up in the front lawn. Ben handles it well, taking me back into the house, helping me into bed, bringing me a warm rag for my head and plenty of water to drink, urging me to nibble on crackers and toast.

“Very inconvenient timing,” Ben mutters. “But the Lord works in mysterious ways. What’s meant to be always finds a way.”

“What, now?” I ask tiredly.

“You might be pregnant, o’course. The most blessed unions conceive during the honeymoon, and I’ve finally gotten around to doin’ the Lord’s work.”

Blood pumps in my ears.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Not now. Not here.

I keep that in. Ben might not like that- still quite a few thorns that have taken the back burner completely- so I leave it until there’s confirmation.

Very inconvenient timing. Understatement of the century.

I calm down. Stress makes me sick sometimes, and life has been very stressful as of late. Monday morning, Baz and Ulysses come over for breakfast once more, and we plot our next move.

“Whole town’s whisperin’, all on their own,” Ulysses says. “Now what?”

“We’ve got to push him to do something they’ll hate- something we can live with the guilt of causing,” I say.

“I still say we get him to off Finn,” Ulysses says.

“If you can find a way to get him to be killed without suffering,” I say, strained.

“Nah,” Ulysses says. “Those three penances? He caused them. And what happened to your brother. He can take those three penances- blasphemy against the holy town of Alderaan. An’ he damn deserves it all-”

“That’s not going on my head,” I say in a low voice. “If he deserves it so damn much- God’ll sort him out. Not me.”

Ben squeezes me knee under the table. His face remains neutral. Baz smirks; Ulysses scowls.

“But you want him dead.”

“I do.”

And that sparks an entire philosophical argument that leads nowhere, that wastes time.

Ugh. This feels a helluva lot like dawdling.

That night, I pray for the first time in a long, long time. Because I don’t know what to do.

I find no answers.