Work Text:
Clothes shuffle as water begins to run.
He's gone.
Ben's skin prickles as he lifts his shirt up.
He always made him take his shirt off. It was the easiest.
He's gone.
Part of him didn't want to get in the water. He could almost hear the door sliding open. Rarely could he be by himself. Rarely did he not have a moment where someone wasn't intruding on him. Never was there not someone breathing down his neck.
He's gone.
Ben's mind replayed the moment, the sear of the lightsaber going through his chest. There's no coming back from that. He was dead. Ben saw it. He saw it. He watched his body slump over. There was no coming back from that, not even for someone like…
He replayed it again. And again. The sear. The fall. There's no coming back from that.
He's gone.
His shirt was back on and the water turned off. He could feel the dried blood cracking across his skin and the still wet fabric. He could get to it later. He walked out of the ‘fresher, looking down every room.
He just had to make sure he’s gone.