Meant To Be »Reylo

| Part Three |

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MysteryManaged77 I LOVE YOUUU AND HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS CHAPTER

     "Where are you going, daddy?” A high pitched voice rings, directing my attention to a small, black haired boy running around by the Millenium Falcon. He brandishes a long stick in his grasp, wielding it much like a lightsaber. 

“Just some more business,” Han Solo answers gruffly, looking down upon his son with a weary glance. 

     “Can I come with you?” Ben asks hopefully, dropping the stick and not seeming to notice how quickly his father broke eye contact like he was toxic. How his father didn’t even want to look, much less talk to, his son.

     “I was only six years old, and he’d already begun to look upon me with disgust. For some reason, though, he let me go with him that day. He was smuggling a large amount of small, metal cubes. I had no idea what they were for, who he was smuggling from and to who they were going to go to, or why he was smuggling them.”

Ben Solo’s voice disappears, and I focus on the changed scene in front of me.

     A man walks into the Millenium Falcon, carrying a large box that appears to weigh a lot. He looks visibly drained and wiped of energy. “That’s the last of them,” he says, setting the box down on top of nine other similar crates. 

     “Remember-“ He starts, but upon seeing young Ben, switches to a language of garbles and grunts. “Don’t worry, it’s not like I’ve ever let you down before,” Han responds, winking and then waving as the annoyed man exits the ship. 

     “Why isn’t Chewie here?” Ben asks, looking around the cockpit with curiosity. His hand reaches up to toggle a switch, but Han quickly slaps it away. “He always comes with you on your business,” Ben adds, using his hands to push himself up into the copilot seat. 

     “He’s busy. Can you go sit in the back where I don’t have to worry about you ejecting yourself into space? I have to get us back home.” He escorts Ben out of the cockpit and closes the door between the two areas.

     "He got frustrated so easily, especially with me. Instead of showing me how to do something, he’d just give up and yell. If I wanted to know anything, I’d go to my mother.”

     Young Ben glances around, an expression of sadness crossing his face before being replaced with joy at the sight of smuggled crates. Cautiously, he started over to the boxes.

     A sudden slam on the hyperdrive sends him flying into the cubes head-on. Ben yelps as he comes into contact with a crate, his foot instantly crashing through the wood of the side and the edge of the box hitting his abdomen.

“That experience was pretty painful.”

The Millenium Falcon comes to a halt, rumbling and landing.

     "Ben, are you okay?” Han yells, running into the room and kneeling down to help him up. Small, metal cubes are scattered across the floor, and it’s a miracle Han didn’t slip on any. 

“See? He cared about you,” I think to him.

“We’ll see,” he responds, and I look back upon the scene.

     "I’m okay,” Ben says, putting a hand to his abdomen and wincing. Other than a scratch stretching across his middle, he’s unharmed. He then looks across the floor at the scattered cubes.