jedi_librettist | for middleoftheforce

"Ben..."

He wasn't sure what to say, and just sent reassuring feelings through the bond.

Ben didn't openly react. Even in the bond, he seemed muted. His twin didn't know what he'd done over the last fourteen years.

His twin didn't care. They'd both done stuff. There was a lot of shit he wasn't going to talk about ever.

The older twin didn't have to relive the same things Ben did. He lifted a hand to his throat, rubbing at the faded scars from the chafing of a collar.

"I need to use the 'fresher."

"Down to the right."

He pointed.

Ben retreated to the 'fresher as fast as he could go without running. He didn't know how to deal with his twin turning everything he was used to on its head. He closed the door and leaned against it, relieved to know that no one would disturb him here. He swallowed a scream, fighting to contain his rage. This was his brother's ship. He didn't want to damage it.

Solo breathed out, knowing how much his brother was fighting an instinct to run. And no, it wasn't some Bond telling him that, it was just a really good natural intuition. He made his way down the halls to the fresher, glancing in on the group of other freed slaves. Most had opted to just sleep, though some of the younger ones sat and talked.

Yeah, he'd probably chose the sleep option himself.

He stood outside the fresher door, leaning against the wall. He could wait, see what happened next.

Been closed his eyes, breathing heavily. He couldn't think. It was too much. He'd lost too much. He'd given up too much. He threw a hand behind him, unleashing a blast of the Force. There was a crash as the mirror shattered. The towels shredded. The towel bar groaned, cracked, and then broke. He let out a harsh sob and fell to his knees.

Solo stiffened on hearing the noises, pushing himself off the wall and towards the door.

"...Ben?"

"I'm fine."

The words are harsh, bitten out. Ben's voice is brittle. There's another sharp crack as the towel bar snaps again.

"...Really sounds like it."

Look, he cannot help the way the comment comes out, dry and knowing.

"You wanna open the door?"

No. No, he doesn't want to open the door. He wants to continue this until there's nothing left intact in the room. He hasn't had a spell like this since he was a teenager. But that's practically an order so he stands and opens the door, not meeting Bail's eyes.

It was not practically an order, but they can argue over that later on. He glances round, taking in the damage and shrugs.

"I was due to fix this place up anyway."

Ben hunches his shoulders in, trying to make himself seem smaller. It's completely unnecessary with his brother but it's easier to be scared and not hurt anyone than angry. He really should have better control than this. He doesn't understand why he lost it so badly.

Solo frowned at the action. He wanted to say something but he wasn't entirely sure what could be said here - he could tell a learned behaviour when he saw it. So instead he glances to the side, and shrugs.

"There's no glass on the floor. We're good."

Ben nods, still not meeting his brother's eyes. He should probably start cleaning up but he can't bring himself to move. This isn't right. Bail shouldn't just practically ignore what he did. That kind of thing already almost got them killed once. He destroyed part of the fresher. What's wrong with his brother that he's not doing anything about it?

"We need to get it cleared."

A bit of a frown at the thought. It's only pressing 'cause there are kids on board now, and those little brats can get into all sorts of mess if you take your eyes off 'em. He'll need to see about getting a new bar and a new mirror. Annoying, but easy fixes. And only annoying because he's never really had the patience for the smaller stuff.

Ben stares at his twin for a moment, incredulous. Why was Bail acting like this didn't matter? He turned away, screaming wordlessly, and lashed out at the mirror again. Shards scattered, falling across the sink and floor. Maybe now his twin would care like he should.

"The fuck is wrong with you?"

It's all he can think to say. Why was he deliberately lashing out?

His brother was finally reacting but it wasn't enough. He wasn't stopping him. Ben reached for the cabinet and ripped it from the wall.

"The fuck?"

Of course Solo isn't stopping him, he's got no idea what's happening or why. He can only stare in a horrified confusion.

"Ben, I wanna keep my ship in one relative piece. It's a piece of crap but it's mine."

Ben clenches his fist and a shelf snaps. He doesn't notice the tears slipping from his eyes. He can't answer. He can't form words right now. The confusion already crossing their bond just feeds his own. He's out of control like he hasn't been in years and there's no one to take over.

The anger at the way Ben is reacting is what hits Solo first and frankly, he's not much in a position to form words either. He can feel the confusion mixing with a rage that he's not entirely sure of the source of and ...

He lashes out. Not with the Force, but with his own fist.

Ben's head snaps back as the punch lands on his jaw. He sags against the wall, hand coming up to hold his face. Finally, his gaze lifts, relief flooding his eyes. He can breathe again. The galaxy makes sense.

The calm Ben feels isn't shared by his brother. Solo still looks pissed and turns on his heel, making his way back to the cockpit. Ben won't be able to get in.

for middleoftheforce

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject