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Sometimes Rey regretted leaving Jakku.
The self-contained world she survived in wasn’t safe, but her struggles were consistent. She was an experienced scavenger who rarely starved and was strong enough to fight off threats. Being underestimated for her slight frame was an advantage that rarely failed to surprise offworlders who thought she was an easy mark.
The hope of her parents returning was the sun that woke Rey in the morning and kept her going throughout the day.
Wait.
She repeated the word daily, her mantra that steadied her breath and soothed the aches in her overworked body.
Hope was far away now, left behind not on the distant planet, no, left behind in the throne room that was now scraps another scavenger could melt down to sell, hiding the First Order origin.
Being caught profiting on their loss would be a death sentence. They had become harsher since their loss.
It was worth it.
Rey reminded herself that taking the risk to go to Kylo Ren killed Snoke.
It was worth it.
These new words she repeated daily replaced her old mantra. Kept something else buried in the back of her mind, hid a familiar twinge in her heart, and distracted from an unfamiliar despair.
Rey told herself she wasn't waiting anymore. The Resistance was about moving forward, fighting for a better future, strengthening her connection to the Force. Jakku was for waiting.
Rey looked around the jungle she had slipped away to in the mornings before her new friends woke.
She opened herself to the Force, felt the dirt below her shoes, the sticky breeze against her arms, and the hum of life in every plant and animal.
I'm not waiting.
No vision found her.
It was worth it.
No intoxicating presence overwhelmed her senses.
He's not coming.
Rey told herself she wasn’t disappointed. She was used to lying to herself.