It wasn't long after the fall of the Emperor that Ben discovered his utter infatuation with sunrises. The absolute serenity of the moment the sun first begins to peek over the horizon, bathing the meadows of Naboo in warmth and golden light. The smell of the dew on the grass, the first notes of birdsong as the planet slowly, gently, comes alive from the night.

Rey, on the other hand, found a simple joy in the newfound realization that she can sleep as late as she wants. Growing up in isolation--on a blistering hot desert planet, no less--doesn't exactly make for peaceful sleep. All she knew was waking with the sun to get her day started as early as possible, in the hopes of avoiding working through the heat of the afternoon. She didn't have to worry about that anymore, or ever again. Ben would make sure of that.

In the year since the end of the war, the two had slowly developed some semblance of normalcy, adjusting one day at a time to their new life together. Everything was new to them. Strangely quiet, void of conflict, tranquil in a way that made them both suspicious, as if they expected it all to come crashing down at any moment. Neither had known much peace in their lives beforehand, after all. A bit of apprehension was to be expected.

It took months for this apprehension to die down, and for them to accept that the war was truly over. Ben and Rey fell into a routine, began to bicker like any other couple, as they healed from the trauma of their pasts, and loved one another through the physical and mental aftermath of their hard-won victory.

On this particular morning, despite his typically optimistic morning demeanor, Ben found himself pacing back and forth in the pre-dawn darkness across the terrace outside his bedroom - the same terrace where he, his parents, and his grandparents had all been married. That was the furthest thing from his mind, however.

He raked a trembling hand through disheveled hair, pushing it back off his sweaty forehead. His chest heaved with the weight of his labored breaths.

It happened again. For the first time since the fight on Mustafar, he had that vision. The one he tried so hard to forget. This time there was no battle to blame, no otherworldly force creating a tangible manifestation of his deepest fears. This time his vision had a familiar face, a face he didn't exactly know yet but knew he loved more than anything in the galaxy.

Ben couldn't shake the premonitory dread that hung over him as the vision flashed in a dizzying sequence across his vision. He was completely absorbed in his own head, so much so that he didn't hear his wife approach him from behind, and flinched when she laid a gentle hand against the tensed muscles of his back.

"What happened?" Rey asked, turning her husband to face her. She took note of the dark circles beneath his eyes, and the light sheen of sweat that covered his face and chest. His panicked gaze met hers, searching, finally relaxing slightly.

"Nightmare. Don't worry about it," Ben muttered, pulling Rey into his arms in a tight embrace that was more for his sake than hers. Her warmth chased away the chill that had settled in his bones.

Rey buried her face in Ben's chest, savoring the stillness of the world around them. She reached tentatively through the bond, hoping he would communicate the fear that was so apparent in the tension of every taut muscle of his body. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," she murmured against his skin. "But you can still show me so I can understand. I want to help you."

Ben shook his head and pressed a soft kiss against the top of Rey's head. "I don't want to burden you with anything. It was just a nightmare." He had a feeling it was more than that, though, and his wife felt it too. For a year now he'd been trying to suppress the memories of his past. His time with the First Order was a traumatic ordeal on its own, of course, and he would have to deal with that at some point; worse than that, however, were the memories of the time after he left the Order. After he met Rey and learned to love, to feel again.

"You could never burden me." Rey prodded the Dyad again and Ben looked down at her, amusement brightening his face in the dim light of the sun that was just beginning to light the gray-blue sky. She yawned, nose scrunching in a way that made his heart flutter. If anyone told him two years ago that he'd be feeling butterflies in his stomach over some scavenger, he would've killed them for even suggesting such a weakness.

Now, he knew the opposite was true. Rey was the only reason he was still standing, still able to move on with hope for the future. She was his strength, not a weakness.

"I'll tell you about my nightmare if you tell me why you're up so early," he chuckled, rubbing his wife's back. She stiffened under his touch then and he began to feel the slightest doubt and trepidation seeping from her.

Rey stepped out of Ben's grasp, turning slowly to face him but avoiding eye contact. "You go first," she said, reaching for his temples. He grabbed her hands before she could touch him, hesitating, not wanting to subject her to the horrors he faced in his dream. "It's okay, I can handle it. Whatever it is."

He let her touch him then, and she was plunged into the darkness of his vision.

The world was on fire. That was the first thought Rey had as she looked around, trying to peer through the smoke to get a feel for her surroundings. Flames engulfed every structure around her, burning them beyond recognition. Screams sounded from multiple directions.

"You're too late," a voice called from behind Rey. Its familiarity sent chills down her spine, but she couldn't figure out how she knew it. "I told you this would happen. You should've believed me."

Rey turned, slowly, hesitantly, feeling Ben's dread from the memory.

The figure was shrouded in darkness, wrapped in a dark hooded cloak, face hidden from view by billowing smoke. He reached up and removed the hood, stepping closer, looking up at last, features illuminated in the glow of the burning city.

Rey gasped, ice spreading through her veins at the sight of the man's face. No, not a man. Still a boy, probably no older than 17. Blood dripped from his fingers onto his sooty cheekbones as he let go of the hood, but Rey couldn't tell if it belonged to him or one of his victims that could still be heard screaming for help in the distance.

"Their blood is on your hands now."

He stepped closer and Rey's breath was caught in her chest. Panic seized her throat like a vice. The boy's eyes were a mirror image of her own, his face eerily similar to Ben's, only younger. Softer. He pulled a lightsaber from beneath his cloak, igniting it, bathing them in an angry red glow that blended with the raging fire all around.

"This is your fault, Father," he hissed, holding the saber off to the side, ready to swing, "and now you're going to die knowing you could have done something to stop it."

The blade of the saber came down in a blinding arc, slashing at Rey's throat.

Rey came out of the memory panting, sweat pouring off her as if she'd actually been in the midst of a great fire. Her hands trembled against Ben's face as she tried to make sense of the nightmare.

"That...that was..." she choked, unable to verbalize the thoughts racing through her head.

"Our son," Ben whispered, eyes holding the horrors of the vision.

Rey knew she had to tell him, but the fear that had stopped her before was different now. It had grown and mutated into something that was so much bigger than just not believing she was suited for parenthood. It was full-blown terror that pricked her eyes with tears, a fear deep in her chest that the nightmare she had just witnessed was inevitable. She choked on a sob, alarming her husband who had to catch her before her knees gave out.

"Ben..." she began, meeting his worried gaze at last. He waited anxiously, ignoring the impatience that ate at him as Rey gathered the nerve to speak. "Ben, I'm pregnant."