AN: Still don't own Star Wars. I could repay my student loans if I did.

It's not hard to find out where Leia went. This isn't Jakku, so there are no footprints in the sand to follow, but Rey can feel her through the Force. Leia's doing a pretty good job of keeping her emotions in check, all things considered, but Luke told Rey that the closer you are to someone, by blood as well as emotionally and in terms of physical distance, the easier it is to find them. Add in the fact that Leia is a Skywalker herself, and Rey doesn't really even have to expend any effort at all.

The young Jedi doesn't bother knocking on the door, although she does check to make sure that nobody else is around before going in. The last thing either of them needs is an audience, and Rey knows how important it is to her mother that the Resistance only ever sees her as the strong, confident, pragmatic general. And it's important that Leia gives them strength and doesn't publicly show fear or doubt—she's their leader, after all—but fuck, the woman is only human and Rey knows for a fact that she considers grieving a luxury that usually can't be afforded. It makes her mad sometimes, but this is the life Leia chose. Still, Rey isn't a soldier; she's Leia's daughter, and this is the kind of stuff family does for each other even when they're terrified and have no clue what to do. Right? Gods she hopes so.

"Mom?"

Rey's voice is a lot quieter and shakier than she intended it to be as she swallows hard and slowly steps into the room. Her heart seizes as she sees Leia sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on her knees and her head in her hands. Grief and guilt and shame and anger and a thousand other things assault Rey; the sensation reminds her of the time she was caught in a sandstorm and had no choice but to crouch beneath a small lip of rock and pray for the tempest to pass as the wind howled and the sand it kicked up blocked out the sun. Rey takes a breath and blocks out Leia's emotions as best she can, taking a slow step toward the bed. "Mom," she tries again, with marginally more success. It still feels weird calling her that, especially after Rey spent so long using just her name, but it makes Leia happy when she does, which is the most important thing. Right now, Rey would give anything to see her smile.

Leia lifts her head to look at her daughter, and it feels like someone has run Rey through as she sees the haunted, agonized look in Leia's eyes. Tears are rolling slowly, gently down the general's cheeks, and all rational thought vanishes as Rey practically flies the remaining distance into her mother's arms. Leia holds her so tightly it's just shy of painful, one hand cradling Rey's head to her shoulder as she buries her face in her daughter's hair, and Rey can't quite hold back a choked sob that's honestly more from anger than pain. God, she just wants the pain to stop—it's not fucking fair that Leia has suffered so much. Rey opens her mouth, desperate to say something, anything to help, but no words come. She wants to tell the truth—It's not your fault, you're not to blame—but she knows Leia won't believe her. How could she think otherwise when for so long, both of her children were lost to her, one to death (or so she thought) and one to darkness that she'd been helpless to root out? How can she forgive herself after what she just heard—what her own daughter had to tell her?

"I'm sorry," Rey finally chokes. That's really all she can say. She's sorry Leia is in so much pain, she's sorry she's suffered and lost so much. Rey is sorry about her brother and sorry that her family had to live for so long thinking she was dead and Rey is sorry that she can't do anything to fix it. That's probably what she's most sorry for, honestly. She's a bloody Jedi Knight; she can lift an X-wing with the Force and not break a sweat, but when it comes to helping her own family she's absolutely helpless. What's the use of being a protector when she can't even protect her own mother? "I'm so, so sorry…."

"It isn't your fault." Rey's heart shatters all over again at the quiet despair in Leia's voice. "I'm the only one to blame. They're right to hold me responsible for what happened to Ben; I knew what was happening, but I didn't do anything about it. I thought Luke could protect him from Snoke….but that wasn't his job. It was mine. And you…" She pulls back, cupping Rey's face in a trembling hand. "I should have protected you too. You should never have had to suffer alone on Jakku."

Rey shakes her head, tears burning her eyes as she reaches up to cover her mother's hand. "You couldn't have known. You had no reason to think Snoke would come after me. I was so young—" Her voice breaks. She knows now that her memory of what happened is fake, that she was not left on Jakku by someone who promised to come back, but that doesn't make it hurt any less. "You thought he wanted Ben…"

"I couldn't protect either of you." Leia clenches her eyes shut, her anguish palpable enough that even someone with no Force sensitivity could see it. "I failed as a mother."

"No!" Anger surges within her, anger at Snoke and at Ben and at whatever fucked-up turn of fate had decided that Leia Organa had to live with the loss of everything she'd ever loved. It also doesn't help that she's still pissed as hell at the pilots from earlier. "It's not your fault! Alderaan wasn't your fault and neither was I, or Ben, or—or Dad, or Luke! You have to stop blaming yourself for all of this!"

"Rey." Leia takes her daughter's face in her hands, and the young Jedi feels a jolt of fear that's mirrored in the dark eyes staring desperately into her own. "You can't dwell on your anger. You can't let it consume you. It's okay to be angry; that's only human, and I understand. But please, don't let it take over you."

"I—what?" Rey is thrown for a loop at the abrupt change of subject. "Why would you…?" She trails off as memories that do not belong to her flit across her mind like shadows. "Oh." Ben. Of course. Leia's told her before about the way she could sense Snoke's influence over her son, sense the darkness that took root within him. Leia can obviously feel Rey's anger in this moment, and whatever she'd felt earlier (Rey winces slightly, remembering just how angry she'd been) was enough to bring her all the way from the other end of the base to investigate. "Look, Mom…"

"Promise me." Leia's voice quivers as she pulls Rey close again, and the girl's protests die on her lips. She closes her eyes and curls up against her mother, trying as best she can to soothe and maybe provide some kind of comfort.

"Okay. I promise," Rey whispers. "I promise."

They sit like that for a long while. Rey feels utterly helpless as Leia's shoulders shake with long-buried pain, but she knows from bitter experience that some wounds just don't ever heal and all you can do is learn to live with the pain. Leia carries so many wounds that it nearly defies belief (another reflexive flash of anger races through her), but at least one of them—the pain of her daughter's death—is finally gone. Rey just wishes she could heal the others too. She takes a breath. "I meant what I said before. None of this is your fault….anger isn't the only thing that can consume you and eat you alive. I just—I want you to be happy." I want us to be happy, she almost says, but doesn't. Even if the First Order were to fall tomorrow and even if by some miracle Ben turns back to the Light, that won't fix things. Nothing can bring back what's been lost, and quite frankly, Rey isn't sure a day will ever come where she can look at her brother and not want to punch him in the throat. The thought makes her almost unbearably sad.

Leia's fingers card through Rey's hair, gentle and soothing, as she murmurs, "I know." There is a gentle melancholy in her voice, a sad acceptance that what Rey wants—what they both want—will never be. "But I failed, Rey. I have to accept that. And so do you."

"You haven't failed me. You didn't even know who I was, really, and yet…." Rey swallows hard. "You were still the first family I ever had. Even before I knew, I….I wished you were my mom because…" Fuck, she's so bad at this feelings stuff. "Because you were one of the first people who ever loved me." She presses her face into Leia's shoulder. "I love you, Mom…"

Leia lets out a choked sob and holds Rey so close it's nearly impossible to breathe, but Rey couldn't care less. She needs Leia to know that she has not failed her daughter, could never fail, no matter what those damned pilots think. Leia Organa could never fail to be anything less than the perfect mother because she loves so much and so deeply, and if her brother threw that away then Rey intends to do the opposite, to hold tight and never let go. Maybe she can't fix this and maybe Leia will carry the pain for the rest of her life, but at least Rey can do this for her family; at least she can let her mother know how much she loves her. Rey tucks herself even further into Leia and cries with her, but somehow this is different than all the tears they've shed before.

Somehow, in this moment, it's a tiny bit of healing. And that's good enough.