After you took down the Emperor, Ben was quick to seek you out, forcing himself to ignore the pain that traveled through his body due to the fall.

He was determined to get back to the throne room and ensure you were well.

The climb up made seconds feel like long, agonizing minutes. Once he finally reached the top, Ben hauled himself over, taking a moment to catch his breath before rising—slowly—to his feet.

His steps forwards were limped until he halted to take a breath, the sight of you lying on the floor briefly made him forget about the pain that seared his body.

He crouched beside you, carefully taking your limp form into his arms and placing you onto his lap.

Ben’s gaze briefly left you, his eyes wandered to take in the ruined cathedral. The Sith throne was no longer—shattered—the dust of it was now a kin to the air just as the Emperor had become the moment he disintegrated.

He pulled you against his chest, hugging you to himself for a moment. You were the one to help him become Ben again, you saved him. He almost couldn’t believe it, but with the connection—the bond—between you two, he could.

As he held you, Ben could feel you slipping away which caused him to not hesitate his next action despite his weakened state.

Now, he cradled you. A hand placed on the back of your neck while his other was at your abdomen. Ben called upon the Force, pouring a small part of himself into you—healing you just as you once previously did for him.

The moment you showed signs of gaining consciousness, he softly whispered your name. His eyes, his expression—both showed the immense relief he felt once he realized he wasn’t going to lose you.