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I finished chapter 7 more or less a week ago, and I have been trying to get enough time to sit and read it through. And this part in particular, I don’t know if it works. I wrote it literally months ago, separately from all the other parts of it I wrote, and I wasn’t sure if it fit in this story.
Anyway. I’m trying to focus. I’m trying to remember where I left off. i’m trying to get this chapter posted. So here’s this chunk, while I try to remember just what it was that I cared about so damn much.
“You were never afraid of me,” not-Ben said. “Not before our last meeting, when I did you so much damage.”
“No,” Poe said. “I was afraid a lot, as a kid, but not of Ben.”
“You were afraid for Ben,” not-Ben said. “I did understand that, at the time. And whether you knew it or not, I was grateful for the distinction.”
“I wanted to protect you,” Poe said. “Not just because they told me I had to. I did like you sometimes. You were hard to like.”
“You never really liked me, but you loved me,” not-Ben said. “You weren’t the only one who did. I did understand that. My mother thinks I didn’t, but I did. Children aren’t stupid. But they want us to believe that love is unconditional, when it very clearly isn’t.”
“It never is,” Poe said, and he did have some capacity for emotion, because it came out angry. “It never is. Everyone wants to promise they’ll love you no matter what but it’s never true, and it takes so little to prove it.”
“Conventional morality forbids us from examining too closely that gap between what is said and what is meant,” not-Ben said, sad and serene. “And there is no room in most of the conventional Light Side education to explore this. The Force is not inherently moral, and trying to force such a framework on it is bound for failure.”
“I don’t know anything about any of it,” Poe confessed, a little wrung-out; it was hard to feel emotions here, he had realized. Wherever they were. Whenever they were.
“We’re meditating,” not-Ben said. “Don’t worry, we’re largely outside time; I’ve been working in here for an approximate eternity, and it doesn’t matter. None of it needs to concern you. Listen to me. I have to give you information. I took information, last time, and I’m balancing that now, since our abuse of you has left you such a blank slate.”
“What could you possibly tell me that I’ll understand?” Poe asked. “I have the Force sensitivity of a duracrete block, and what learning capacity I ever had is entirely stuffed full of guitar tabs and starfighter specifications.”
“Whether you’re able to control it or not, everyone is in the Force the same amount,” not-Ben said, and there was a tiny spark that could have been amusement. In that moment he looked like his old self, and it didn’t make Poe sentimental but it solidified his belief that this was somehow real. “I can give you this information, you’re sentient, that’s all that’s required.”
“Oh,” Poe said, “I’m sentient, how generous of you.”
“Shut it, Dameron,” not-Ben said, and cracked an actual smile, heavy eyebrow quirking a little. “The creature that I was loved you back, you know.”

I finished chapter 7 more or less a week ago, and I have been trying to get enough time to sit and read it through. And this part in particular, I don’t know if it works. I wrote it literally months ago, separately from all the other parts of it I wrote, and I wasn’t sure if it fit in this story.
Anyway. I’m trying to focus. I’m trying to remember where I left off. i’m trying to get this chapter posted. So here’s this chunk, while I try to remember just what it was that I cared about so damn much.
“You were never afraid of me,” not-Ben said. “Not before our last meeting, when I did you so much damage.”
“No,” Poe said. “I was afraid a lot, as a kid, but not of Ben.”
“You were afraid for Ben,” not-Ben said. “I did understand that, at the time. And whether you knew it or not, I was grateful for the distinction.”
“I wanted to protect you,” Poe said. “Not just because they told me I had to. I did like you sometimes. You were hard to like.”
“You never really liked me, but you loved me,” not-Ben said. “You weren’t the only one who did. I did understand that. My mother thinks I didn’t, but I did. Children aren’t stupid. But they want us to believe that love is unconditional, when it very clearly isn’t.”
“It never is,” Poe said, and he did have some capacity for emotion, because it came out angry. “It never is. Everyone wants to promise they’ll love you no matter what but it’s never true, and it takes so little to prove it.”
“Conventional morality forbids us from examining too closely that gap between what is said and what is meant,” not-Ben said, sad and serene. “And there is no room in most of the conventional Light Side education to explore this. The Force is not inherently moral, and trying to force such a framework on it is bound for failure.”
“I don’t know anything about any of it,” Poe confessed, a little wrung-out; it was hard to feel emotions here, he had realized. Wherever they were. Whenever they were.
“We’re meditating,” not-Ben said. “Don’t worry, we’re largely outside time; I’ve been working in here for an approximate eternity, and it doesn’t matter. None of it needs to concern you. Listen to me. I have to give you information. I took information, last time, and I’m balancing that now, since our abuse of you has left you such a blank slate.”
“What could you possibly tell me that I’ll understand?” Poe asked. “I have the Force sensitivity of a duracrete block, and what learning capacity I ever had is entirely stuffed full of guitar tabs and starfighter specifications.”
“Whether you’re able to control it or not, everyone is in the Force the same amount,” not-Ben said, and there was a tiny spark that could have been amusement. In that moment he looked like his old self, and it didn’t make Poe sentimental but it solidified his belief that this was somehow real. “I can give you this information, you’re sentient, that’s all that’s required.”
“Oh,” Poe said, “I’m sentient, how generous of you.”
“Shut it, Dameron,” not-Ben said, and cracked an actual smile, heavy eyebrow quirking a little. “The creature that I was loved you back, you know.”
