Experience had taught him to expect the worst. It hurt a little less. He would imagine what Han had been able to gather and though his assumptions could be wrong, it was better to be surprised than disappointed.
But it had been so long since anyone had managed to throw him so far off course. And his father’s casual response to his own death, though true to his character, was still a shock. Ben had to wipe his jaw from the floor afterwards. His lower lip trembled and the back of his eyes felt hot but he was grinning in spite of the emotions welling up inside. It wouldn’t do to cry in front of his father so he held it all back. Emotions and feelings weren’t what Han Solo dealt in best. At least, not to the range that his son felt and unfortunately, Ben felt too deeply on almost everything.
“It wasn’t a good reason and it wasn’t really much of mine to begin with.” Ben returned his father’s shrug with a casual shoulder-roll of his own to match. As if watching his father’s lifeless body fall from his hands hadn’t numbed him to his core. Ben took another swig, though lighter than the previous. “Let’s just say,” he started with a shaky exhale. “I listened to the wrong voice and I didn’t realize until it was almost too late.” But he had made it. In the end, he had at least been able to do one right thing.
And still tried. Every day was a little bit easier, though the struggle had not completely disappeared.
Ben lifted his chin towards his father. “If you did go somewhere, leave this place, would you take me with you this time?”