Ben knows who’s entering his room long before the door opens. He can sense Han Solo from a mile away, could do so from the minute he stepped out of Rey’s ship and into the Resistance base. No one, besides Rey, has come to see him in his make-shift cell, and it doesn’t surprise him. For many of them he must represent everything they hate about the First Order, and most of them are struggling to forgive the horrible things he did. It doesn’t surprise him either that it’s Han who chooses to face him out of all of them, ever the forgiving father, regardless of how hard Ben fought to get rid of him. He glances up to meet his father’s gaze but he can’t stand it for long. It fills him with regret and shame and guilt, all feelings that threaten to drag him back into the mindset that created Kylo Ren in the first place. He isn’t deserving of the patience and kindness Han meets him with, instead he should hail anger and punishment on him.
This place, his confinement is the punishment the Resistance chose for him - for now - but everyone knows it only works because he lets it. This cell couldn’t hold him if he chose to escape, but he doesn’t. He has nowhere to go, nothing to do but sit here in his misery and regret, wondering how, after everything he did, he got away with his life, his father, and his soulmate. It must be her; it must be Rey’s unlimited strength and connection to the light that helped him prevail.
Staring at the dirty ground, with his head hanging low, Ben lets out a soft sigh.
“I’ve been worse,” he says dryly. He’s been better, too, but that was so long ago he barely remembers it. There are a thousand questions he wants to ask Han, but none of them make it past his lips. He lost the right to seek answers or comfort from him, he threw it away and never looked back. He doesn’t even know if he’s still allowed to call him father; if Han truly still holds on to that side of them.
“I’m sorry,” Ben says after a moment, still unable to look at his father. He doesn’t know what Han came here for, but he knows that this could be the last time he ever sees him. And out of all the things he wants to say, this seems the most crucial. “I’m sorry I wasn’t the son you deserved.”
It hurts to see Ben like this. To see him so broken and... lost. In the grand scheme of things, Han has failed his boy dramatically. He’s really let him down, hasn’t done enough to make sure all of this never happened. He should have done more to keep his son on the right side of all this. He should have fought harder to keep him from Snoke’s grasp. But that’s in the past, now, and all he can do is fight to help him NOW.
Perched opposite Ben, Han takes a moment to just study his son. He looks tired, like he has the weight of the entire galaxy on his shoulders. Understandably, of course-- things are going to get difficult for him from here. He’s got a lot to be dwelling on.
“I get that.” He nods, clasping his hands together with his forearms set on his thighs. When the apology comes from Ben’s lips, Han finds himself frowning a little, his gaze drifting across his features. Ben doesn’t owe him an apology.
“You have nothing to apologize for, Ben. I failed you. I didn’t do enough to... to help you.” He brings a hand up, scrubbing it down his face as he exhales a breath. “You... I let you down, Ben. I’m sorry. I never wanted any of this to happen. You needed me to be a father, to help you figure everything out, and I just wasn’t what you needed. And I’m sorry for that, Ben.”
