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Chapter Text

There is no way this is actually happening, Ben thought, watching Rey Palpatine driving towards him in a Forest Service issue Ford Ranger. He moved to the side of the dirt road, knee-deep in dry grass and orangey Indian Paintbrush. There wasn’t a whole helluva lot of road.

Of all the people. And she’s looking right at me, making fucking eye contact. 

But there was no look of recognition on her face. She rolled down her window, her eyes now glued warily to his ax, held loosely in his hand. 

He probably looked a little creepy—up here all by himself—but she noticed the fallen tree, blocking the road and smiled.

“Hi,” he said lamely. He was out of practice talking to girls. Women? She stepped out of the truck.

Woman.

“Did you walk all the way up here from the station?” She asked, ignoring his shy eyes flicking away from her white shorts. 

He wasn’t wearing his firefighter squad T-shirt, just a plain black one, but she could tell by the ax, the handle painted fire engine red.

Valid question. Think of something realistic.

“Didn’t want to park on the road, since it’s one lane, so I parked along the fork,” he lied. These mountains were a labyrinth, she wouldn’t know if he had a vehicle or not. This one led to the lookout tower. And judging by the dusty supplies in her pickup, she was going up for a week.

“I’m Rey,” she said, her tone professional.

I know, he thought, pretending not to notice her hand reaching out for a shake. He squinted out over the landscape. A sharp drop over the side of the road—with no guardrail—California pines, and scrub brush.

He looked back when her hand lowered. 

“Oh, I’m Kylo,” he lied. Where the fuck did that name come from? ‘Kyle’ was the first fake man-name that came to mind. Halfway out it sounded too frat boy so he’d added a bit of his last name to it. Kyle + Solo = Kylo. Idiot. “Are you the new lookout?”

“Yeah,” she said, trying to figure him out. “Thank you for clearing the road for me,” she said, waving a hand in the direction of the downed tree. 

Shit. Any more bright ideas?

“Aren’t you a little young to be manning the fire tower?” 

Was that stalling? Or default assholism? She was kind of young. Maybe 19. He did the math. That was 2012. She’d be...18ish now. He didn’t know when her birthday was.

She looked offended. As if he’d just declared her too stupid or inexperienced to do her job. In the meantime, he was not chopping apart this fucking tree in her way.

“Let me see that,” she said, grabbing at his ax and he blinked in shock because she had it physically in her hands in one second, marching over to the tree to prove herself.

Again, he couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Rey Palpatine was holding his ax, making short work of the tree. She was through on the skinny side, then moved to the other, smirking back at him, all while he tried to pretend this was just another normal day for him. He couldn’t wait to tell his dad.

“I used to work that tower,” Ben said, over the sounds of her chopping. He probably shouldn’t have said that. She’d figure out who he was. But he wanted to brag, since he already looked unchivalrous. Not that she needed help. She knew how to use gravity instead of brute strength.

She wiped a hair out of her mouth. “When?” Now she thought he was lying.

“You know, just for a little bit. But I can come up sometime this week and make sure the altitude hasn’t gotten to you,” he joked. Even though that was a real concern. 7,000 feet could leave some people winded or a bit nauseated.

“I think I’ll be fine,” she said, annoyed, tossing his ax so hard it smacked into his palm. She kicked the log until it rolled to the side and squeezed by him to climb back into her truck.

“You smell...smoky,” she muttered. 

Shitfuck.

“That peak is a lightning magnet,” he warned her, changing the subject.

“That’s why Luke’s putting me up there. I used to be a Hotshot, but prevention is better than fighting,” she said, matter-of-factly.

Chief Luke was his uncle. But he couldn’t say that. He used to put the younger firefighters in the tower to keep them away from the action during the season. Maybe he was protecting Rey that way. Since she was already a victim of a fire.

“You’ve got about another hour,” Ben said, looking in the back of her truck. “And I can already tell you didn’t bring enough water for a week. You’ll have to boil the non-potable and it tastes like shit. They truck it up from the station’s well.” 

She frowned at him. What he thought was helpful was coming off smug. He wanted to ask if she had bear spray. It didn’t look like she had enough food either, but before he could speak, she started the truck and continued on without a goodbye, leaving him breathing dust.

He stood, watching her tail lights burning like embers. She had no idea, did she? That she was the only reason he stuck around.

-------------------------------------

Back in Glendale, Ben spotted his dad sitting on the bench outside of The Falcon, their family’s corner bar. His mom was inside, bustling around the two lunch tables.

Ben rattled the wind chime, his way of letting her know he was there. Not like a gentle tinkling. A crazed, funny sound like he did as a kid. Like sounding an instrument to let her know he was hungry.

“Where have you been?” His dad asked when he sat down.

He thought about keeping it to himself. His dad didn’t know he went up there. But he wanted to tell him about Rey.

“Moon Mountain,” Ben said. “Rey Palpatine’s the new lookout.”

His dad tilted his hat back, “Oh, yeah? Little Rey? How’d she look?”

Hot. 

“I...actually talked to her. For about five minutes,” Ben said, watching his father’s face contort with confusion.

“I didn’t tell her my real name,” Ben said quickly.

“Kid, women always find out the truth,” his dad said, repeating one of his old isms from a previous life.

------------------------------------

That night, Ben just wanted to make sure Rey made it to the fire tower without getting a flat on the rocky terrain. Her truck was there, alright, parked near the helicopter landing spot. He heard music and decided to see what she was up to. 

It was dark outside and these definitely weren’t visiting hours, so he tried to keep the crunching under his boots to a minimum as he passed the outhouse and crept closer. At least the rattlesnakes were asleep at this time.

The tower glowed, every wall a set of five windows. It was two stories, the above-ground basement was walled in with rocks, the upper area just one room with a twin size bed, desk, stove, sink, firefinder, etc. 

She was using too much power: the main lights, her computer, music, a fan. Someone should have told her to substitute a lantern. The two solar panels charged the 12 car batteries, but it was surprising how much electricity one person could use simultaneously.

As if by design, the lights went out and he heard her curse, realizing too late that she’d be without power until the sun hit the panels in the morning. 

There was a metal ladder on the other side that went to the roof to adjust antennas. He scaled it slowly so as not to creak, finally able to see inside. She was using her phone’s light to get the lantern going. Her smooth, brown hair was down. Earlier it was in a bun. He liked it either way. He couldn’t see much else, but her laptop was on the bed, lighting up her quilt and a face-down book.

She knocked her head on the protruding firefinder, as big as a refrigerator, bolted to the wood floor in the middle of the room. He almost fell off the ladder, the noise was so startlingly loud. 

“Ow!” he heard her through the open window.

I used to do that, he remembered fondly.

Continuing on, it took every muscle he had to stay quiet, positioning himself over the gritty roof shingles and laying back. He used to come up here when he was 23 and worked the Moon Mountain Fire Tower. June through October, the fire season. 

It was aptly named. The moon was to the west, like a Ritz cracker between his knees, still big and yellow through the smoke pollution from distant fires. It would look smaller and whiter in a few hours as it traveled higher.

He heard the screen door springs and Rey was outside on the deck, leaning on the white railing right below him. His feet were hanging off the edge so he retracted them, flattening himself as she looked up at the stars.

Praying she didn’t decide to explore the roof, he tried to relax and enjoy the cool breeze. The vastness here always made him feel like space would drag him from the earth’s surface the first chance it got. But he was right where he was supposed to be. Laying on the rough shingles, still warm from the day’s heat, he marveled at this turn of events.

Rey Palpatine’s hazel eyes inexplicably boring into his.

After a few minutes, the yipping echoes of coyotes in the valley spooked her and she went back inside to sleep in his old bed.

Chapter Text

Rey was sitting on the deck, watching the deer congregate by her runoff pipe to drink. She was so glad for their company, she’d decided to let the sink run for a few minutes. 

The chipmunks were out in droves, pulling each blade of grass down and nibbling the seeds off the tops.

It was 6:00 pm, so she was technically done for the day with radio check ins. Although, she still had to keep an eye out for ‘smokes’. Even campfires. Campers were supposed to be using portable grills.

She could see 20 miles in all directions from the lookout, rows of blue mountains, but she’d only spotted a couple smokes all week. There was a thunderstorm on Tuesday where she’d had to sit for two hours on a wooden stool with thick, glass insulators on the legs—to prevent electrical currents from a lightning strike. To her relief, the storm ended up passing by to the east.

In the morning, she’d get to head back to her apartment—which wasn’t much bigger than the tower—but it had a shower and way more things to do.

She’d already cleaned everything. The tower was practically derelict, having been taken out of service three years ago. Paper towels. She needed to bring more paper towels next week. And more Wet Wipes. And food. And drinking water. 

That firefighter was right to doubt her. She didn’t realize how much water it took to cook and bathe and duh, watercolor, and drink for a week. And the water from the pump did taste terrible and she didn’t want smelly paintings.

She could have easily forgiven his superiority complex if he hadn’t refused her handshake. He definitely saw her stick her goddam hand out.

Rey tried to sketch the doe closest to her, but the deer squatted in the weirdest way to pee. I didn’t know deer squatted.

“Hey.”

Rey screamed, dropping her pencil right through the cracks in the boards.

It was Kylo, the non-handshaker, standing on the corner of the deck, grinning, “Sorry.”

“Uh, hi,” Rey said standing up. Christ. She hadn’t seen anyone for days and she was a mess. Socks up high, pajama shorts, bed hair, no bra. 

And he looked all freshly-laundered and kempt, despite wearing yet another black T-shirt.

“Just checking in. How was the first week?” He asked, leaning on the rail to watch the deer slowly descending the hill, away from the screaming humans.

“Saw a couple smokes,” Rey said. Even though they just turned out to be unlawful campfires. “I love the view up here,” she added, watching him lean, all tall and muscled. He leaned good.

“Did you call in that one?” He asked, pointing. 

She thought he was playing with her, but fuck, there was a smoke. A new one. Just a wisp visible, but solid and clear.

“Oh, shit,” she said, stumbling past him around to the door. He didn’t follow, just watched her through the window as she pinpointed the fire’s location on the firefinder’s scope and jumped on the radio. 

She cleared her throat and hit the talk button on the handheld. “Ersa, Moon Mountain with a smoke report.” 

He smiled at her change in tone, her radio voice where she tried to sound older and not panicked.

Main dispatch responded quickly, “Moon Mountain, go ahead with your report.” 

She read her notes, “Azimuth: 150 degrees, 30 minutes. Approximately 12 miles out. Titan camp area.” 

Dispatch began radioing different engines and battalions to see which resources they could spare. 

Rey stepped back outside, moving her walking stick out of the way from near the stairs. The trek to the outhouse was all crumbly, slippery rocks.

“I should probably get down there,” Kylo said, looking disappointed. They must have called his engine number.

“What did you come up here for again?” Rey said, trying to remember. It was an hour and a half drive. Was he refilling the propane or water tank?

“Just wanted to see if you had any entertaining first week stories,” he said, already making his way down the stairs.

She wasn’t born yesterday. Maybe his snub earlier in the week was his attempt at playing hard to get. 

“Ummm,” she said, trying to think, but finding it impossible. Because Kylo the firefighter with the perfect, black hair had come all this way to see her. Kylo the firefighter who was over six feet with giant hands drove an hour and a half to talk to her. “My hand sanitizer exploded from the barometric pressure?”

“That’s pretty crazy. But I was hoping you’d spotted the cougar and shit your pants. I guess there’s always next week,” he said, talking louder as he got further away.

What. Cougar.

“Did you walk here?” She practically shouted.

“Parked at the gate!” He said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder as he walked backwards.

Oh, right. She’d locked it so the hunters couldn’t drive up and shoot her deer family.

She wanted to watch Kylo walk down the mountain—she could see almost a mile of the road—but she needed to continue updating dispatch on the fire. But the fire didn’t have shoulder blades and fucking thighs and cute, turny-in feet. 

Still smiling, she walked back inside to get more specific directions for the crew and engine on their way.

——————————

That night, Rey drew the shades. She knew she was alone. It was just paranoia. But somehow it still felt like Kylo could be outside, looking in.

Laying awake, she wondered at how quickly Kylo had spotted that fire. They still hadn’t determined how it had started. It was just oddly coincidental. She briefly wondered if he was even a firefighter. He could have bought that ax.

Her worries were quickly proved false the next week when four Ersa County Fire Department fighters came on a visit, putting a couple new hires through their paces with a ‘pack test’. The new recruits were being made to haul a 50lb pack up the steep mountain road, under the apparent supervision of Kylo and another man.

Rey remembered when she had to do the same. It was wilting in all that gear in the California heat, the oxygen running thin.

Kylo seemed to be the good cop, offering words of encouragement, clapping, while his chubby partner played bad cop, shouting about a hypothetical fire nipping at their heels and how he could walk faster than they could run, which she highly doubted. 

She watched with binoculars until they made it to the gate, then fixed her hair in the mirror and pretended to be reading a book when they arrived, sweaty and collapsing at the ‘finish line’ of the helicopter pad.

“Did they make the cut?” Rey asked Kylo from the stairs, eager to see if he was going to be friendly today. But the other man answered.

“Poe and Finn? Oh, sure. I was just giving them some motivation, sorry about the yelling,” Chubby said, coming closer to offer his hand. “I’m Snap. And you must be Rey. I hear you on the radio.”

She recognized the name Snap from dispatch as well.

“I’ll let them rehydrate and get out of your hair,” he continued, but she was looking at Kylo. He hadn’t even broken a sweat and Snap was red as a tomato.

It was almost 5:00 pm. Maybe his time would be his own soon, she thought, watching his hair rip about in the wind and his eyes linger on hers, reminding her of his secret visit, however brief. 

God, this man. She didn’t know if she loved him or hated him. Didn’t know him well enough. It was definitely going to be one or the other.

Snap walked back over to the new recruits to give them five more minutes of recovery time before they started back down and Kylo slid sideways to whisper. “I’d stay and chat, but Snap wants to get back down before this storm that’s coming. While the roads are dry.”

“Oh, okay,” Rey smiled, happy to hear that he wanted to stay, but also peeved. She only ever seemed to get a few minutes with him at a time. Fuck, come on, Universe.

“Hey, I was wondering-,” he started, but one of the new recruits stood up and came running over with what little energy he had left.

“Poe,” he said, still gasping, shaking her hand. “Are you the Rey from the fire back in like 2012?” 

He must be from Elara or Glendale. Those fire stations knew her story. Her tragedy preceded her.

“Yeah,” she said, determinedly avoiding Kylo’s eyes. He was probably wondering what Poe was talking about.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” he said. “My dad was one of the fighters on that crew. So terrible.”

“Oh, thank your dad for me,” Rey said, wishing he would drop it. She didn’t feel like telling Kylo her sob story. She wanted to know what he was wondering before he was interrupted.

“Let’s go!” Snap called. “Quit flirting with the lookout!”

Poe and Rey laughed. Kylo didn’t. 

“I know he’s kidding. But could I get your number?” Poe asked, rather boldly, in front of Kylo. Maybe it was the lack of time as the others started walking away.

Rey glanced at Kylo as his jaw tightened and his back turned.

“No, I’m not really dating right now,” Rey invented, nodding through Poe’s apology, a waste of his waning lung power.

As the team headed back down, she wished Kylo had heard her response. Perhaps he’d ask Poe what she said. 

Running back up to the tower, she grabbed her binoculars and did a quick smoke scan around the deck, then watched the group wind their way down the mountain. Almost half a mile away, they went through a clump of trees and she only saw three of them. They were missing one dark-haired, black T-shirted fireman. 

Her stomach did a flip. Maybe he was coming back.

Chapter Text

It was a risk, coming up with Snap and the new recruits. She might have called him ‘Kylo’ and blown the whole lie. But when he saw them going up, it was yet another excuse to go see her. And when Poe confessed to the group that she’d blown him off, Ben decided to turn back.

Rey was on the deck, looking through her binoculars. She didn’t even see him walk right up to the base of the stairs.

“Hi,” he said, nervously. It had been a long time since he had asked someone out.

“Oh! Shit!” She said, holding her chest. “I thought you were down there.”

Ben rested one foot on the bottom-most stair, “I was going to say something. Uh…” Spit it out.

Rey walked to the top of the stairs and sat down because it was getting windy already. 

“Wrea’s Comet is visible tomorrow,” he said. Informative, he thought, sarcastically. “I figure. You’ve got the best spot to watch. And a telescope.” 

“Yeah, cool,” she said, still not understanding him. “I’ll keep an eye out for it.”

Talk better. “I meant. I mean. Do you want me to come back up? I could...come back up.” Ben felt like he was finally clear that time. Not suave. But clear.

She smiled, the wind blowing her shirt off one shoulder, and she had freckles there too. He subconsciously climbed another step.

“Well, yeah. You know where to find me,” she said, adjusting her shirt and looking just as sheepish as he did. “What time? What time do the stars come out?”

Ben didn’t have a watch. “Have you ever thought about how stars don’t come out at night? They’re there all day, we just can’t see them.”

—————————————

She watched him walk down the road, so he made a good show of it, then, once he was out of sight, he circled back. Because the storm was coming in fast and he wanted to keep an eye on her, like the first week, make sure she kept her ass on the lightning stool.

It could get uncomfortable and dull, he remembered. Sometimes storms would pass over once, then come straight back, lasting for hours.

He found a good rock to sit behind by the time the rain started. What was a little rain?

A downstrike erupted and he counted in his head. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. CRACK. Five miles away. She better get on that stool. Lightning could hit ten miles ahead of a storm.

Rey had her arms full. A map, the handheld, a notebook. It looked like she was laying everything out on the bed facing the storm, pulling the chair closer.

Lightning split the sky open and Ben leapt to his feet, hissing between his teeth, “Sit.”

She did, safely on the lightning stool now. 

Ben sat back down on his chosen rock, drenched, but calming.

———————————-

Ben didn’t tell his dad he had a ‘date’ with Rey. It was kind of an experiment.

She saw him coming, even though it was dark and he didn’t have a flashlight. He was worried she was going to try to hug him or something, so he headed straight for the ladder from the ground.

He felt bad he couldn’t help her carry anything, though, pretending to be fixated on the comet, a white tail of cosmic dust and ice.

“I’m just going to bring the blanket up,” she said. “I don’t trust myself not to drop the telescope.”

“Oh, good idea,” he said. There I go, looking unchivalrous again.

Coming up the ladder, she held the blanket out for him, but he pretended he thought she was offering. “I’m fine.” He felt like a total douche, watching her throw it on the roof.

At the top of the ladder, she reached her hand out for help. Shit. 

She was expecting his hand, putting too much weight on her lower half and a gust of wind nearly sent her down the mountain, but he grabbed her wrist and yanked.

“Whoa!” He said.

“What?!” She said, sitting next to him. “I had it.”

Not. What. Surprised. Me.

The experiment was already a success.

She laid the blanket out and he joined her on it, both of them leaving their shoes on the grippy shingles for support, rather than the quilt.

“I smell smoke,” she said, her arm an inch from his. 

“California is always on fire,” he said, dismissively, pointing to the comet, starting to look brighter by the second. He hoped she didn’t notice his finger shaking with excitement.

“Wow!” She said, her arm touching his now. She was cold.

Stretching his arm out, she smiled and laid her head on it. “This okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, catching a whiff of her shampoo. Even after two days without a shower, she smelled amazing. Like oranges.

“You’re probably wondering what that recruit was talking about yesterday,” she said, lacing her fingers over her ribs.

Ben knew exactly what Poe was talking about. Ben even knew his dad.

“You don’t have to tell me about it,” Ben said, his voice deeper when he lay on his back.

“It’s really not that crazy,” she said. “When I was ten, a tree fell on a power line and it started a fire. The smoke put us all to sleep and everyone died but me. My parents and my grandfather. He was kind of a big deal, Governor Palpatine?”

Ben shook his head as if he hadn’t heard the name. “I’m so sorry.” His stomach was clenched so tight, he wondered if she could feel it, with her side pressed to his.

They both saw a flicker of lightning but Rey pulled her phone out of her back pocket and opened an app. “Tracker says it’s nearly 60 miles away.”

They didn’t have that app when he worked the tower. They didn’t have apps, period.

“I set it to buzz if there’s a strike within 30 miles,” she said, as if fretting he was going to try and end the date. “Chief Luke says there’s like ten times more storms over Moon Mountain than usual this season.”

“I’ll bet that storm is over the fire we’re smelling. Pyrocumulus. Fires make their own weather,” he said, passing his dad’s knowledge off as his own.

“There is a fire over there,” she said, reading another app. “Over in Oregon.”

She put her phone away, looking back up at the sky, salted with stars now. “Where do you live? Do you want to do something this weekend?”

Fuck fuck fuck.

“Glendale. And I probably can’t this weekend, going out of town. Got some environmental activism,” he said, hoping that was specific enough to prevent further enquiry.

“I’m from Elara,” she said, to let him know she lived close.

They talked until it was late. Or early. Rey was full of stories from her two months as a Hotshot, traveling with the fires across the west coast. It was no wonder she was so independent.

He told her about his parent’s bar and how his whole family went into firefighting. Not a lot of other careers to go into near the National Forest.

Rey said she went into firefighting because a firefighter saved her life and Ben pulled her tight. Like he did. Eight years ago.

Her eyelids grew heavy with sleep and he felt the date ending with the foggy dawn. 

Begging for a little of his arm back, he brought his lips down on hers, feeling her hands tangle in his hair. She opened her mouth wider and he slipped his tongue in to find hers. A little noise escaped her, humming into his mouth.

He thought about telling her the truth. That he shouldn’t be touching her. That their families hated each other. That he knew who she was. That it was all his fault. 

But she felt so good, burrowed into his chest, her soft lips on his, igniting him...so good, that nothing—not even his own conscience—was going to stop him now.

Chapter Text

Rey turned on the sink for the deer to get a drink and flopped back onto the bed, turning her journal face-up. 

8/18/2020

First date ever. If life was some contest, I think I won.

Kylo grew up in Glendale, only forty minutes from me. He fought fires for seven years with the Ersa County Fire Department. His dad, Han? was a firefighter too.

She picked up her pen, wanting to add something a little more…

We climbed up to the fire tower roof to watch Wrea’s Comet. And I laid on his arm the whole time. And he kissed me. For like half an hour! OMG. That’s it. I’m moving to Glendale.

Rey laughed aloud. She should be tired, after pulling an all-nighter, but she was giddy as fuck, from the moment Kylo’s lips touched hers to the present. She couldn’t sit still.

Turning the sink off, she did a lap around the deck with her binoculars. 

“Hey, deer!” She called, counting five now, all adult females with swively ears as big as their heads.

A new system had moved in and the clouds were gaining in altitude. She waited, watching them build, like a premonition, higher and higher, until she spotted the first bolt and zeroed in on the strike point with her binoculars.

She needed to go back inside and get on the stool, but she adjusted the focus, giving it a minute. “There,” she muttered. She could see a pine going up in flames, branches curling under, a tendril of white rising.

Flinging open the screen door and letting it slam, she turned the heavy, metal firefinder, standing on the footstool to look down the scope and crosshairs. She jumped down and grabbed the radio, repeating the Azimuth while it was fresh in her head. 

Main dispatch had a helicopter that could be there in ten minutes and she heard the pilot on the radio next.

“Ersa, helicopter 5 Charlie Hotel. Just lifted off airbase Ersa. I have 3 hours of fuel. ETA to the incident is ten minutes. I have six souls on board. Confirm that I’m cleared for AFF.”

Rey bit her nail, wondering if Kylo was one of the ‘souls’ on board. Why did they say it like that? It sounded ominous. Why didn’t she have Kylo’s phone number?

The helicopter didn’t end up even repelling it’s crew. A simple douse of red, liquid fire retardant quelled the blaze in one go.

It was Wednesday and Kylo had said that he could come back up any day that week. But she only looked cute the first couple days, what with the lack of showering. She was basically glamping. So he said he’d come back next Monday. 

And I’m going to be ready, she thought, sliding onto the stool.

She was going to pack nice clothes and get a haircut and a manicure. Who knew what could happen.

———————————-

Monday morning, Rey put on eye makeup and lip gloss, which came pouring out of the tube. Thanks, barometric pressure. Then she slid into her white sundress. It had spaghetti straps, so she went sans bra. That was actually convenient, because she didn’t own any matching underwear sets, but she did have a pair of white lace panties.

She didn’t know what time to expect Kylo, so she kept pacing the deck, looking for him, hoping he didn’t forget. Or get a flat.

After the 1:00 pm weather report, which she did standing to avoid wrinkles, she set the radio down and skimmed the stairs. She needed to use the outhouse—which was actually quite luxurious and pristine.

Coming back, her flip flops sounded dorky and she wished she’d packed some flats. As she passed under one of the 400-year-old Foxtail Firs, she heard branches snapping and falling and she froze, looking up.

An actual fucking cougar was climbing, trying to find a branch to balance on, claws to the bark. He looked down at her with round, golden eyes. Needles and bark dust were still falling in her hair, but she couldn’t break eye contact.

Honestly, he was probably more afraid of her than she was of him. Maybe he was hunting her deer. 

“Hey, baby,” she said, taking one cautious step back towards the fire tower.

The cat clawed and shredded his way higher, the sudden movement sending her into flight mode and she sprinted, losing flip flops one at a time and landing in the dirt twice without her walking stick.

The cougar made a long sound, like a mad house cat times twenty, turning her blood to pure adrenaline, and she looked back to make sure he was still in the tree, smacking right into Kylo.

“Oh, sorry!” He laughed, picking her up off the ground and throwing her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “I told you!” He laughed, taking the stairs two at a time.

He set her down and she ran inside, motioning for him, “Get in! Hurry!”

She slammed the doors and spun the lock, turning to his laughs in shock.

“I told you, didn’t I?” He wheezed, his head almost hitting the ceiling, too big for the space.

Now that she was safe, she could laugh, smiling and pulling him down to kiss her.

He lifted her by her ass and walked her to the bed, laying her down right on top of her open journal and sketchbook, which she swiped haphazardly to the floor, pulling Kylo down with her.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” He said, looking her down.

“I don’t know,” Rey whined. She had tried too hard.

“No, I like it,” he said, running his hand down her.

Her knees were a little scraped and dirty and she had cougar bark in her hair, but she didn’t care. She was alive and Kylo was there.

His mouth came back to hers and his hand went down, down her leg, then up, up her dress, back down. Goodbye panties.

She wiggled them down her knees and he could hardly kiss her for smiling. Smile-kissing down her neck and chest.

He shoved a knee between her legs and her breath caught. 

Jesus Christ. Thank you, Universe.

He pulled his shirt over his head by the tag and she stared stupidly at him for a moment, feeling totally out of her league. Black was slimming. He was broad. He was 200lbs of pure muscle.

He grabbed the ends of her dress, bunching the fabric in his fists next to her hips and ripped her to the edge of the bed, his face unreadable. “Tell me you’ve done this before.”

She shook her head.

“Ugh,” he laugh-groaned, rubbing his forehead into her dress. “God, I want to tear you apart. I forget you’re 18.” 

Rey tried to remember. “I never told you I was 18.”

His face came up, his smile gone. “Chief Luke told me.”

“Oh,” she said. Duh . 

He swallowed and she worried she’d killed the mood with one question. But maybe now was a good time to tell him, “I’m on birth control.”

“That’s good. I know you’re into prevention,” he joked.

“Other than that, I don’t really know what I’m doing,” Rey admitted, squirming closer to his black-jeaned thighs as he hunched over the bed, weight on his fingertips.

“You be you. And we’ll get along fine,” he grinned.

Chapter Text

“Close your eyes,” he whispered. She looked so nervous and he still had his jeans on.

He left her dress down, but slid his hand under. “Well, fuck.” She couldn’t be wetter. His dick throbbed in the cage of his pants. Leaning down, he sucked and licked along the neckline of her dress, tasting a sharp hint of body splash. She tasted fucking edible.

Her back arched and he almost forgot he was fingering her, rubbing two fingers up and down her, pressing hard against her nerves. He paused to slide her straps off her freckled shoulders, peeling her dress down from the top and her eyes opened, forehead mad, because his hands couldn’t be in two places at once. But fuck, he wanted to see her breasts, then he put his hand back to work.

“Kylo?” She said, right as his mouth closed around her nipple. “Ow!”

“Sorry!” He said. He’d accidentally bit her. But he wasn’t expecting to cringe hearing his fake name come out of her...in the moment. 

It all hit him at once. There was no way he was doing this before. She didn’t even know who he was. He didn’t know what she was going to ask, but he removed his hand and stood back up, rubbing his face, acting, just wanting her to see that he was conflicted.

“That’s not my name, Rey.”

“What?”

“My name’s Ben Solo. Do you know that name?” He asked. He sounded angry and he didn’t mean to.

She sat up, covering herself. “No.”

Ben took a step back, because she looked a little freaked out. “I was the firefighter who pulled you out in 2012.”

She was just shaking her head, listening. He hadn’t even gotten to the part that would make her hate him forever.

“Me and a few firefighters were trying to protest clear-cutting some of the National Forest. Your grandfather signed off on it. We were going to just. Just make a statement. Cut down some trees on his personal property. They weren’t even that close to the house. One of the trees went down over the power line apparently.”

She started slipping her arms back into her straps, looking down, unblinking.

“It was an accident. And when the neighbors called it in, we went to stop it-,” he said, remembering. But God, that wasn’t until two hours later. He took that step back towards her, reaching out, and that snapped her out of it.

“Get out,” she said, stiff, folding in on herself.

“Rey.” The inside of his throat suddenly tasted like blood and fear.

“GET THE FUCK OUT BEN OR WHATEVER THE FUCK YOUR NAME IS GET THE FUCK OUT!!”

She jumped out of bed and unlocked the door, pushing on him and punching him. “You killed my parents! You killed my grandfather! I’m calling the cops! You should be in jail! You’re a MONSTER!” She was sobbing now.

Ben pulled his shirt back on, feeling numb. Because everything she was saying was absolutely true, but no one had ever said it out loud to him before. He heard her slam the doors and lock them. She didn’t care if he got eaten by a cougar. He didn’t even check the tree.

Walking down the mountain, he thought about going back, telling her everything. Maybe it would help his case. But, no, he was completely fucked.

He sat down in the grass, his legs giving out after half a mile. He’d never felt worse, but somehow he felt better. Because for the last eight years, he’d peeked in from time to time on Rey Palpatine to see how she was doing. In every foster home and every part-time job. He couldn’t actually do anything to help her, but it felt good to see her survive.

He blinked and it was dark, the coyotes making a racket in the valley and the fire tower was lit up—with the lantern. And another light was coming his way. 

Shit. What is she doing? There’s a cougar out here somewhere.

“Are you just going to sit down the road from me all night?” She said, throwing a very expensive pair of binoculars at him. Her aim was terrible.

“Rey,” he said, surprised himself when his voice came out that way. Had he been sitting here crying?

She dropped the flashlight in the gravel and pulled him down to kiss her.

“What are you doing?” He said. Earlier today she wanted to feed him to a big cat and throw him in prison.

“You pulled me out,” she cried, kissing him again. She’d changed into a loose sweater and those fucking white shorts.

They fell to their knees and she laid down, working her shorts off over her hips, knees, shoes, right there in the dusty grass and Indian Paintbrush. 

He unzipped his jeans and dipped his hips between her legs, pulling himself out, and filling her slowly, wiping his face on her fucking sweater. 

“God,” he said, wet, muffled.

This is why he stayed. 

They kissed, deep. Harsh. 

His hips rolled into her warmth while his face felt the swells of her breasts, pillowy against his lips through the terry cloth fabric.

Her hands grasped at his neck and back as her legs widened. It was so dark it didn’t even feel real, but she said “Ben” in his ear and he held her tight. A perverse recreation of the moment he saved her, laid her body in the green grass and fit a mask to her face. Her hazel eyes boring into his.

“I love you,” he said, even though words wouldn’t make the past die.

She cried into his shoulder, insistent, getting close, and he obliged, rocking into her, curving into her slick, finding the right spot to help her.

She tightened—even more—and he groaned, his palms digging into gravel and Rey exhaling, shaking, coming down.

God, the grip on him. He only needed three more thrusts and he pulled out, spilling obscenely in the grass between them, stifling his heavy breaths with difficulty.

He rolled onto his back and zipped back up. Rey’s shorts were the only thing he could see in the dark and he threaded her legs back into them, pulling her up to stand. 

She wasn’t speaking so he just picked her up and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he walked back to the glow of the fire tower, glad the snakes were asleep.

Chapter Text

Rey never felt Ben leave the bed, never heard him open the door. She looked around for a note or something, checking the desk, pillows, firefinder, stool, sink, stove. Nothing. Pulling on her boots and grabbing her walking stick, she meandered down to the outhouse, giving the cougar tree a wide berth.

But he wasn’t there either.

Maybe he had to work. She had to radio in in ten minutes. She decided to walk over the hill so she could look down another mile, see if his truck was at the gate. Did he drive a truck?

At the top of the hill, the wind pushed her, as if to say ‘don’t look’, but there was no truck. He must have gone down to the station. It was a Tuesday. What was his schedule?

Trekking back to the tower, she smelt smoke and instead of thinking of fire, she thought of Ben. Because he always smelt like smoke. She spun in a full circle, spotting a wisp down near Bear River.

“Fuck,” she said, dropping her stick and running, calves and lungs burning. And sore between her legs from last night. She radioed it in and they sent a fire engine, since it was close to a water source and road. She watched the engine approach and put the fire out, just a red dot. Was Ben with them? 

She listened to the radio traffic, writing down every engine number she heard. The next time she saw Ben, she’d ask for his engine number. 

By 11:00 am, they reported it was likely caused by the railroad, throwing sparks. 

But she had a bad feeling. If Ben had started the fire that killed my parents, who was to say he wasn’t the one starting fires all over the forest? 

He said it was an accident, she told herself.

She didn’t pack her bag, just grabbed her keys and took her handheld radio. She could drive to Glendale and back before nightfall, do her weather reading now, report it at 1:00, and the lookout check at 4:30...she could just pretend everything was good. 

The mountains were dry, so the descent was fairly safe, but she had to go 15 mph the whole way. Rocks, potholes, and deer kept her eyes on the dirt road, rather than the views. She passed acres of burnt pines from previous years—maybe even a result of the lack of a lookout—but the underbrush had regrown, green from the added nitrogen and phosphorus in the soil.

When she hit pavement, signal returned to her phone and she typed ‘Glendale’ into Google Maps. There in only twenty minutes, she cruised slowly down Main Street. It looked just like Elara. A formerly-booming gold mining town, now kept alive thanks to the promise of recreation and adventure.

She spotted a bar and pulled into the slanted parking spot, her truck conspicuously beige with dust. The door was open and there were several customers at the dining tables, but Rey made for the free water cooler, pouring a glass and sipping slowly as she waited by the bar. 

If this was Ben’s family bar, someone here would know him. Someone could tell her if he was good. Or an arsonist.

They seemed short-staffed. The same woman carried plates, bussed tables, and cooked, seemingly happy to do so.

“Be with you in a moment,” she said, adding “miss.”

Glendale was just like Elara. Small towns weren’t used to new patrons—traveling alone. And typically the clientele was over forty, the younger generation off sewing wild oats. Rey probably looked like an alcoholic. Disheveled. Yesterday’s makeup. The only one at the bar instead of a table.

Rey saw a cork board on the wall with a Forest Service patch and walked closer to investigate. It had pictures tacked on, newspaper articles. After a moment, she realized it was a memorial board to fallen firefighters.

“That was my husband,” the woman said from behind her, pointing.

“Aw, he was handsome. I’m sorry,” Rey said. 

“Lost my son the same night,” she said pointing to him too. He had big ears, but Rey called him handsome too. 

“Wait,” Rey said, ripping the picture off the board.

“Hey!” The woman protested.

Rey was angry. This wasn’t right. Ben wasn’t dead, he was loitering around Moon Mountain. “Your son isn’t dead, he’s a goddamn liar,” Rey whispered.

The woman pried the picture from her hands. “Ben died in 2012. He saved a little girl in a house fire and went back in for the rest of the family,” she said, proudly. “My husband too, both died in that fire. The governor’s house fire.”

“That’s not possible!” Rey said, too loudly. She wanted to tell her Ben was as real and alive as anyone in this bar. But it started to sink in.

Three figures traveling down the mountain, missing one dark-haired, black T-shirted firefighter. No truck. No phone. No handshake. Did he not know he could touch me?

“Why don’t you sit down? I think you must be dehydrated,” the woman said, pulling a chair out from an empty table.

Rey’s mouth felt tight, her eyes growing wet, but she sat and the woman joined her.

“I know- um... knew Ben,” Rey said.

The woman’s face lit up and Rey read the embroidered name on her shirt.

“Leia, sorry about your loss. I just didn’t know he had died,” she said, her voice oddly calm now.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. Where are you coming from today?” She asked, pushing Rey’s water closer.

She took another sip. “Moon Mountain Fire Tower.”

“Oh, lovely views. Ben worked up there in...I believe it was 2009 or 2010.”

Rey rubbed her eyes, picturing Ben up there now, wondering where she’d gone.

“Did you know Ben was an activist?” Rey asked. It seemed like his mother was nothing but maternal trust, no doubts in him whatsoever.

She nodded. “Got that from me. And his father. Both conservationists. There are trees on Moon Mountain with rings—you count them when the tree falls—some of them 1,400 years old! They come to study them from all over.”

And her grandfather was going to allow the destruction of that. “A statement,” Ben had called it, cutting down a few trees in his driveway.

“I have to go. Back up to the tower,” Rey said, blankly. 

Leia followed her to the doorway, looking at her truck. “Get a good night’s sleep. Got some storms coming in.”

“Thank you,” Rey said, staring at her wind chimes. The wind was picking up.

“Between you and me,” Leia said, sitting down on a bench, occupied by an older man, asleep under his hat. “I think my son rings those chimes when he comes to visit me. Used to do it as a kid. Real hard, startles me.” She laughed.

Rey swallowed. She needed to get back.

“It was nice meeting you,” she said, unlocking her truck.

———————————

Rey’s knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel, stopping the truck in a cloud of dust at the peak. She looked around, but didn’t see Ben and she worried he would never be back. 

She climbed the stairs, carrying her handheld, breathing hard and hungry, when Ben came around from the far side of the deck, looking real, the real wind blowing his real hair. 

He was trying to read her knowing expression.

Unlocking the door, she went inside and set her radio on the charger, nothing between them now but the screen door.

“Come in, Ben,” she said, loudly. A test.

He looked down at his shoes, his jaw working.

“Ben, open the door and come in,” she ordered him, her teeth chattering in her skull.

He looked right at her. “Close your eyes.”

“No,” she said, crying now.

Ben stepped through the door—without opening it—holding her, feeling solid. Impossibly solid.

“Are you alive?”

“If you’re alive, then I’m alive.”

Chapter Text

8/19/2020

Found out Kylo’s name is Ben. And he’s dead. And he was the one who pulled me out of the fire in 2012.

Met his mom. Ben walked through the door. Apparently ghosts sleep because it just feels like something they should do.

“Don’t write that,” Ben laughed, reading over her shoulder while she sat at the desk.

“Hey, no peeking. Go back to watching for fires for me,” Rey said, continuing.

She was so cute it hurt, sitting with her thick socks tucked under the chair.

Walking around the deck, he should have been looking out, not in, but he circled her, feeling lucky. Feeling so lucky.

“Stop writing about me,” he smirked as he passed by her window. “I can tell because you get this face.” He made a face like a shy schoolgirl.

“What would happen if I took a picture of you?” Rey asked, holding up her phone. 

He shrugged.

She fiddled with the screen. “Nothing.” 

He wasn’t surprised. “Figured. I don’t have a reflection.”

“I could draw you,” Rey said seriously, jumping as he stepped through the wall. “Jesus. Not used to that yet.”

“What, you want me to walk over to the door and make a creaky noise with my mouth?” He said, going back through the wall.

She laughed as he did just that.

“Sit down and hold still,” she said, finding her sketchbook from under the bed.

She ended up positioning him outside on the deck, leaning on the rail, the wind in his hair and his eyes on the ridge line.

Sitting cross-legged, she sketched, the wind blowing her shirt off her shoulder and he sighed.

Thank you, Universe.

Back at her desk, she added color from a cheap, plastic watercolor set. She even captured the way the mountains looked lighter, the further away they got.

“Do you love it?” She said, signing the bottom in pen.

“I love you and everything you touch,” he said, wishing there was a better way to tell her. That the night sky pulled at him for almost a decade and every time he told it ‘no’, because she was here and she was all that mattered.

Speaking of the prospect of ‘moving on’, he hadn’t visited his dad in days. They worried about that. The other one moving on, being left behind.

“I’m going to go say ‘hi’ to my dad. I’ve got a lot to catch him up on,” Ben said. “I’ll be back before the storm, but get your whole setup going before it gets close so your ass is on the stool long before it hits.”

He made a pretend squeaky noise at the door and she laughed, pulling him back by the shirt. Hunching, he kissed her, pressing her up against the firefinder. It felt like it was leading somewhere, the urge to shuck clothes to the floor and thank her properly for the drawing, but he would have to hurry. It wasn’t like he could float down the mountain, he had to run.

Catching his breath an inch from her mouth, he repeated himself, “Ass on the stool. And for God’s sake, if you go outside, take the bear spray.”

She rolled her eyes and he turned, jumping the stairs and running down the road. It usually took him a little over two hours to get down the mountain, another hour to get to town. But sometimes he could hop on the back of a pickup en route to Glendale.

It was sunset by the time he made it to The Falcon, ringing the wind chime for his mom—and to wake his dad, dozing under his hat on the bench.

“Hey, kid, where you been?” He said as Ben collapsed next to him. 

“Moon Mountain,” he grinned.

It took him an hour to explain everything. The date, the cougar, telling her the truth, the fight, the make up.

“I’ve been yelling at your mother for eight years to hire a cook, and you—miraculously—are knocking boots at the fire tower with Rey Palpatine. Now, that’s just not fair,” he grumbled.

Ben wished he could bring his dad up to meet her. But they could only go where they had been when they were alive. Ben used to go up to the mountain just for a change of scenery. 

“I’m sorry, Dad,” he said, though his eyes were on the sky, growing dark. “At least Mom never left Glendale.”

“I have you and your wind chime trick to thank for that,” he said, smiling. “She knows you’re here.”

The sky rumbled and Ben stood, “Gotta go back up.”

Up the mountain was much slower progress and it was starting to rain. It was dark by the time he reached the halfway point, a giant tree known—oddly enough—as ‘the ghost tree’, white where the bark was burned away, petrifying and sun-bleached. 

He saw lightning and ran faster, counting in his head. One. Two. CRACK. 

Fuck. He wasn’t going to beat the storm.

He knew it was all in his head, but his lungs struggled and his leg muscles were screaming. He’d never run both ways in one day before. Stopping to breathe, the sky lit up, a huge cloud-to-cloud eruption, spidering over his head, pointing towards Rey. He watched it, heart pounding under his wet shirt, and he ran. He hadn’t felt fear like this in a long time. Since that night when they got the call. The governor’s house is on fire.

Jumping a fallen tree, he looked up, scanning for a distant view of the tower, but he was still too far.

“You do this?” His dad asked, when he saw the four hand-sawed trees down in the driveway, blocking the fire engine. Ben had told him about the idea weeks ago, but in the end, it was just him, Dameron, and Snap that were angry enough to put their money where their mouth was.

The fear gave him energy and pumping his arms harder spared his legs a little. At the top of his current peak, he could see the fire tower, miles to go still, but it was motivating.

The house was half in flames, the windows cloudy with black smoke.

“Ben!” His dad shouted—a chastisement—when he broke through a window with his ax, not waiting for the orders or plan of action.

It was a girl’s bedroom. A little pink tent on the floor was protecting her, blocking the fumes, keeping her below the smoke line. If she had been in the bed that night, she would have been dead. He lifted her and climbed back out, running across the lawn and accepting the child-size oxygen mask, laying her down and fitting it to her face. Her greenish eyes were open, round and scared. If she could see him through his respirator mask, she’d know his eyes were guilty.

Ben abandoned the road and went straight uphill, leveraging rocks and branches, trying to shave down his time. Because the lightning was constant now, booming, stalling out, right over Moon Mountain. 

She was crying, so he held her tight, talking in her ear as he watched his dad run inside. He needed to go, his dad was getting too old for this. And it looked like the second floor might collapse on the right side.

“You hang on, little fighter. I’ll be right back.”

He slid down the other side, like a fucking slide, using his boots to slow him down. Rejoining with the road, he fell to the ground, a strike so deafening and bright he feared for his own existence, which was never in danger. Please tell me that wasn’t the fire tower. 

On the final stretch, he saw it. Windows blown out, lantern gone. Dark. Fear turned to hopelessness, but the storm lit his way, and he didn’t slow his agonizing pace.

He found his dad, the reflectors on his suit shining from Ben’s headlamp. He was pulling a couple by himself. The mission body recovery at this point. His dad pushed at him, trying to haul them alone, but he wasn’t strong enough. Ben took the man, heavier. When they reached the hall, the ceiling collapsed and his mask was torn away from his face, the smoke blinding, suffocating, but he couldn’t move. Next to him, his dad groped in the dark until he found Ben’s hand. It only took a few breaths. A minute at most. And they were gone.

Ben ran through the door—hanging by a hinge—and Rey was on the floor, knocked right off the stool. He lifted her in his arms and looked down. There was blood on his arm. She had a head wound, hit it somewhere. Probably on the firefinder, because there was red there too. She couldn’t call for a helicopter unconscious. 

He carried her down the stairs, hoping the rain would wake her, but she was out, limp in his arms. Looking back the way he’d just come, he shook the rain out of his eyes. 

He knew what he had to do, but he didn’t know if he had the strength to do it.

Chapter Text

Rey followed Ben up the metal ladder to the roof of the fire tower. 

“Whoa,” he laughed, when the wind pushed her backwards, holding her by the shoulders and standing tall, getting their balance.

It was a dream, so she didn’t worry about falling. She knew it was a dream because he was carrying the blanket. And Ben could only ring wind chimes. And carry his ax. How did that work? Did you have to die touching something to keep it forever? Or was it a figment of Ben’s imagination?

He spun her in a circle to the music from the radio, slow dancing to a fast song. Then she pressed her face to his smoky shirt, wrapping her arms around his broad middle. If she fell and died, she was going to do it touching Ben. Keep him forever, that way. The smoke from distant fires was closing in, making the sunset bright orange and red. 

Ben leaned down and shouted in her ear, angry all of a sudden. “Don’t you dare fucking leave me!”

Oh God, yes, the painkillers are starting to work, Rey thought, squinting groggily, pulling her sheet down. The lights were bright, fluorescent. 

Whoa, these are good drugs. She felt 100% again. No swelly-mean feeling pulsing behind her eyes anymore. 

A nurse came in, “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” Rey said, almost asking her where Ben went, but that would be pointless. 

“Thank you,” Rey added.

This nurse was short, Asian, with hair that flipped out from her face.

“Feeling up for a walk?” She asked, helping Rey out of the bed. 

She was still in her fire tower clothes. White sweater, white shorts, barefoot. Still damp. 

How did I get here again? It was morning and Short Nurse escorted her slowly down the hall, making sure no one ran her over with their wheelchairs or stretchers.

When she got to the automatic doors, Rey could see the town of Glendale. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” The nurse said as Rey pulled her arm free and walked right out, then ran as she passed another nurse on her way in. 

She had just remembered how she got there. Ben carried her. All the way to the Glendale Health Center.

Consider this me checking out, she thought, too excited to deal with acquiring shoes. She jogged on the sidewalk, grass, the only crosswalk on Main Street.

It was before noon, but the bar door was open and she walked in, spotting Leia in the kitchen. But she wouldn’t know where Ben was. 

Rey went back outside and sat on the empty bench.

How does one find a ghost?

“Looking for Ben?” 

Rey nearly fell off the seat. There was a man sitting there that wasn’t there a second ago. 

“Oh,” she knew who this was. “Yeah. Are you his dad?” She wasn’t expecting to be able to see him too.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand—feeling real—and setting his hat courteously in his lap.

“I’m Rey. From the...well, he told you, I’m guessing. Do you know where he is?” She said, keeping her voice down so Leia wouldn’t come outside and see her talking to herself.

“Kid’s around. Let’s go find him,” he said, helpfully. He placed his hat back on his head as he walked. “Nurse Rose still up at the hospital?”

That sounded familiar. That was probably the woman she jilted. “I think so?”

“Can’t miss her. Only five feet tall, with Farrah Fawcett hair.”

Rey laughed. “Yeah, that was her.”

“Ben will be kicking around some place I can’t get to. Get’s all moody sometimes, wants alone time. You can probably find him down by Solo Bridge,” he said, pointing towards the river. “Just follow the walking trail I think for about two miles. He'll be there. Wouldn’t go all the way back up to the mountain with you down here.”

Rey was pretty sure she knew the bridge. She crossed it every week on her way to Moon Mountain. But she didn’t know it had a name. “Solo Bridge?”

“My wife. Loves a good memorial,” Han smiled, turning back towards town.

“Han?” Rey said, waiting for him to turn back around. “Was the house fire an accident?”

Han considered her for a moment. “Open your eyes, little one. He might be stupid sometimes, but he’s about as harmless as they come.”

Rey nodded, feeling tears prickle in her eyes. The forest fires really were just fires. But it was scary, trusting someone. Especially when she could sense the lies in him. But he’d told her everything now.

She followed the path by the river. It all looked familiar. Rapids and swimming holes. May flies and the smell of silt. She passed a campground and she recognized that too. A perfect memory bobbed to the front of her mind. Camping there with her parents, hanging their food bag over a branch to keep the bears out of it. 

It wasn’t just that one either. She could remember so much more of her childhood. Like the blow had shaken them off the shelf and into her hands.

Rey spotted the bridge, one solitary figure had his back to her, looking down the other side. Creeping up on him, she reached up and tapped his left shoulder, then slid up to the concrete rail on his right.

Ben jerked, then saw her. His eyes were red.

“Hey, are you okay? Look, I’m fine,” she said, hugging him. 

He laid his forehead on her shoulder, his chest heaving unevenly.

“Stop,” she soothed him, taking his hand and running the other through his hair. “What is it?”

He licked his lips. “Just had a bit of a disappointment,” he said, his voice hoarse. 

“Well, can’t you take a moment to be proud of yourself? Because you’ve saved my life twice and no matter what mistakes we’ve made we can get through it.” 

She was taken aback when her words of comfort only seemed to make him more upset.

“That’s just it,” he said, “I didn’t . I didn’t get you there in time.”

Rey blinked.

“What are you talking about? I’m fine! I mean, I’m on some heavy painkillers, but-.”

Ben was shaking his head. “That’s not why the pain went away, Rey.”

Rey laughed. “I’m alive. I’m. I was talking to Nurse Rose not two hours ago!” Ben was being ridiculous. She could feel the wind. She could feel his hand in hers and the cement and pebbles under her feet.

“Nurse Rose has been dead since 1983, Rey,” Ben said, louder. “She helps people move on. Like you should have done. What the fuck are you still doing here?”

Rey gripped his hand tighter. Thinking. 

Fuck. Maybe he was right. Was it naive to think he and his father were the only ghosts in town?

She took a breath, feeling the back of her head. There was no soreness, no bandage even.

“You died halfway down. I laid you at the hospital doors.”

The truth was, it didn’t matter. She didn’t even feel as sorry for herself as she did for Ben. Standing there like he had failed her. But she was glad the pain was gone.

“Ben, I love you. The rest. It’s not important. I don’t have a family to miss me. I don’t have, really, anything else I care about but this,” she said honestly, pointing between the two of them. It might sound childish, but from the minute that fireman whispered in her ear when she was ten years old, she was in love.

“I’m here. Close your eyes. Tomorrow this will all be just a bad dream.”

Chapter Text

“Is it really?” Rey said, following Han into The Falcon.

It had only been a week and her journal and sketchbook had apparently made their way into Leia’s hands.

Han pointed to the cork board and Ben and Rey smiled. Her drawing of Ben was in the middle, in a spot of pride.

“She’s onto us now,” Han chuckled. “She’s been telling visitors all morning that Ben and I are ghostly town guardians.”

“How did she get it?” Rey laughed, watching Leia sit down at a booth to chat with a group of women.

“Her brother is the chief.”

“You didn’t put anything descriptive in there, did you?” Ben asked, looking embarrassed.

“No, not really,” she thought aloud. Thank God.

Han continued, “The whole town is theorizing on how Rey ended up at the hospital. And I heard her say the tower was a mess. A crew has been up there making repairs.”

Han had been their source for local news all week. They’d been a bit...preoccupied. Ghosts didn’t need to sleep.

“I don’t understand how the storms just disappeared. Northern California was getting hit somewhere almost every day and now, nothing,” Rey said. It was like a phenomenon that seemed to coincide with her death.

“Ever heard of pyrocumulus? You two up there, making your own weather,” Han joked. As if two people meeting was the same thing as two fronts colliding. 

“Have they reassigned someone?” Ben asked.

“Yeah, someone is up there,” Han said, hazy on the details. “Bit soon if you ask me.”

Rey shrugged, not offended by a replacement. “California is always on fire,” she said, repeating Ben. “Someone’s gotta do it.”

“Let’s go see who’s up there,” Ben said, pulling her by the hand and rattling the chimes on their way.

Leia and the booth women shrieked and laughed nervously.

Rey had to stop about a hundred times, especially at the end, her lungs working overtime. But she refused to accept Ben’s offer for a piggy back ride.

“Holy fuck. This is steep. How the fuck did you do this,” Rey said, bending over her walking stick--the only thing her imagination could produce when she felt like interacting with a solid object. Ben had his ax, Han had his hat, and she had a stick. She felt short-changed. 

“I’m carrying you back down whether you like it or not,” he said. “Can’t believe you have to spend eternity without shoes.”

“It’s a trade off. I’ll always have a manicure and a haircut, but, alas, bare feet.”

There was a Ford Ranger parked next to the helicopter pad and they climbed the stairs to look inside the freshly-painted tower.

“It’s Poe!” Rey snickered, watching him sit at the desk, reading the Lookout Manual.

“Why are you whispering?” Ben whispered, sarcastically.

She kept doing that. Forgetting that no one could see or hear her.

“I wish I could make him turn the radio on,” she said, stepping through the door. 

The empty walls had been replaced with framed drawings and paintings from her sketchbook. Her deer family. Chipmunks. Purple thistle and low sagebrush and Foxtail Firs.

“Look Ben,” she said, spreading her arms wide. “I’ve got my own memorial.”

Poe did get bored that night and turn the radio on. Rey and Ben were sitting on the deck and she pulled him to his feet, making for the ladder.

When they reached the top, standing tall like in her fevered-pain-dream, Ben looked at the stars and she knew he was feeling ‘the pull’ and telling it to fuck right off. They were right where they were supposed to be.

She grabbed his hands and swayed, keeping her feet firmly planted.

Ben grinned, “I don’t know how to dance.”

Rey pulled him down by the shirt for a kiss. “You be you. And we’ll get along fine.”