A/N: It's been another horrible week, and so to make myself feel better, I had Hux and Kylo spawn again. You know, as you do.

Warnings for: cisgirl Kylo, unrepentant sap with a moment or two of not-sap, cranky Force users (I would say cranky Hux, but Hux is always cranky.)

Title of this comes from "Never Let Me Go" by Lana del Rey.

"Yes, I know it's dreadful, darling, but there's absolutely nothing to be done for it."

Padmé stands her ground, metaphorically speaking – she keeps her lips pursed, head tilted firmly away from the spoon that Hux holds. Hux sighs and, not for the first time, wonders if being obstinate is an inherited trait, or if Padmé has simply already picked it up from Kylo at such a young age.

Thinking of Kylo makes him glance toward the refresher once again, frowning. She's been in there for quite some time, although at least now he can hear movement within. Kylo had woken him up as she'd clambered out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom, and she's been in there ever since. Hux has left her well enough alone, mostly because the baby has kept him occupied.

Padmé squirms in his lap then, looking up at him and babbling, and Hux takes the opportunity to pop the spoonful of mashed vegetable into her mouth. She makes a betrayed noise, and Hux says sympathetically, "I'm terrible, I know. Be a dear and don't spit that out."

Padmé looks rather put-upon, but she eats the mouthful of food, so Hux counts the endeavor as a success. "I was told this horrible stuff was supposed to be good for children," Hux tells her conspiratorially as he coaxes her into taking another spoonful. "But since you hate it so much, I promise, no more after this. No matter what your mother says."

Padmé doesn't understand anything he's saying, of course, but she cooperates long enough to take another few bites, more than he's gotten her to eat in an age's worth of trying. Hux is attempting to talk her into one last mouthful when Kylo finally emerges. She's wearing the overlarge sweater and leggings which she'd slept in, and she's put her hair into a messy braided coil at the nape of her neck. She walks into the kitchen at the pace of a newborn Bantha, somehow managing to look peakier than normal. Even Padmé seems aware that Kylo is unwell, as her coo of recognition is rather more subdued than usual.

"Are you alright?" Hux asks, frowning at her. "You look like hell."

Kylo gives him a nasty look. Hux realizes, belatedly, that this might not have been the best way to greet her. "What a surprise, Hux. I feel like hell, too."

Hux holds in a sigh. Prickly Kylo is, by far, his least favorite Kylo – except for violently melodramatic Kylo, of course. "Well, if you're ill, go and see a doctor," he says. "I know you've held onto the idea that you don't require medical care, but –,"

"I don't need a doctor," Kylo says, reaching out to gently smooth Padmé's hair as she passes by on her way to the sink. She fetches a glass from the single cupboard, not looking at Hux as she does so.

"You'll get the baby sick," Hux says, outraged. "Who knows what bizarre viruses this planet is home to –,"

Kylo sits her glass down on the counter with a clatter. "I think I'm pregnant."

For a beat or two, Hux just stares at Kylo, stunned. Padmé seizes this opportunity to snatch at the spoon in his hand with her chubby little fingers, splattering that horrid food everywhere. Hux hardly notices. "What?"

Kylo finally turns and meets his gaze, looking frazzled. "I mean – I don't know why I said it like that. I don't think so, I know so," she says, irritated. "I've already been seen about it."

"But how?" Hux says. "And don't answer that, I know how. But you got that ruddy shot."

"I must have mixed up the dates," Kylo concedes, visibly aggravated by the admission. She waves a hand in Padmé's general direction and adds defensively, "I've had better things to do."

Hux feels a bit of cursing might be necessary here, but he holds his tongue – Kylo doesn't like it when he swears in front of Padmé, which is hilarious given her general lack of couth. "Well?" he asks finally, eyeing Kylo warily. He doesn't have to ask a real question, or even really think about it; she'll know he's wondering what she means to do about this.

"Well what, Hux?" Kylo says flatly. She's got a dangerous look on her face suddenly, one that tells Hux she's in no mood to deal with him. Hux supposes he wouldn't be, either, if something had taken up residence inside him and decided to make him vomit profusely. Still, something about the look in her eyes tells him this is due to more than just her not feeling well; she genuinely doesn't want to have this conversation, necessary as it may be.

Hux opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off by a soft whimper from Padmé. She gets fussy quickly whenever somebody around her is in a particularly foul mood; Kylo says it's something to do with the Force, which Hux privately finds rather alarming. He shifts Padmé and lets her tuck her face against his shirt. "Don't cry, sweet. It's alright."

Kylo watches this, seemingly conflicted. In the end, her stormy mood wins out, and she heads for the door, abandoning her untouched glass of water on the counter. "Where are you going?" Hux asks, frowning, as Padmé works herself up towards a real cry.

"Outside," Kylo says, suitably shamefaced. "She feels – I'm upsetting her."

"Yes," Hux replies frostily. "You are."

Kylo gives him a murderous look, one that only softens when Padmé snuffles into Hux's shirt. Without another word, Kylo stalks away, snatching her robe from where it hangs by the door and shoving on her boots. She won't be gone long, Hux knows – only until she's gotten her temper under control, or as under control as it ever is.

It takes a little while to get Padmé calm again, and she's still good and cranky by the end of it. Hux lets her sit on the kitchen floor by his feet and play with toys while he reads over new trade regulations that have been sent to him, but he isn't making much progress, his mind occupied with other things. Padmé keeps asking after Kylo – not in many words, of course, but in little demands of, "Mama?"

"She's right outside," Hux tells her, peering under the table at her. "Can't you feel her, or something?"

Padmé just looks at him, then repeats forcefully, "Mama."

"She's in a mood, I'm afraid. You're better off in here with me."

Padmé seems distinctly unconvinced, and Hux tries not to be offended by the whims of an infant. "I don't know what I'll do with three of you lot," he tells Padmé, as the thought strikes him. "'Force' this, 'Force' that. It's going to be ridiculous."

Padmé's only response to this is to start gnawing on a small plush toy, but she's still watching him intently. She looks so like Kylo when she stares at him that way, save for her hair, which Hux notes needs a decent combing. "Although," Hux muses, "I suppose this one could be like me. It seems unlikely – but then, your mother does love to tell me how little I know about that sort of thing."

It's a strange thing to think about, whether or not this baby will be like him or like Kylo. Hux had never expected to need to think about it, after all – they had Padmé, and he'd assumed she would be it. He hadn't minded; she's fairly perfect as children go, in his own estimation. Hux can't imagine loving anyone or anything the way he loves her. And yet, he finds himself seized by a sudden hope that this new child is like Kylo, too – the Force might be more trouble than it's worth for the most part, but it is power, and power can mean safety, sometimes.

Hux snaps out of his thoughts once he hears Padmé give a frustrated whine. He ducks under the table to collect her, but she wants none of it, squirming and working herself into a state all over again. She's like her mother in that way, too, Hux notes, but he doesn't mind quite so much anymore.

She's in desperate need of a mid-morning nap to keep her from being a complete terror all afternoon, but Padmé refuses to cooperate, even when Hux takes her into his arms and starts pacing about the kitchen, trying to quiet her. She's finally tuckered herself out into soft sniffling when Kylo comes back inside, looking somehow more disheveled than when she'd left.

Padmé reaches for Kylo plaintively, and Hux hands her over without a word, refusing to meet Kylo's eyes for fear that she will see how inadequate he feels. Kylo doesn't move away from him when she takes the baby, but the words she murmurs into Padmé's ear are still too quiet for Hux to make out. "It's alright," Kylo tells him then, somewhat stiffly. "She's just in a bad mood today."

"I know," Hux says, finally forcing himself to stop being childish and look at her. "You've got something on your face, by the way."

Kylo seems unconcerned, busy with rubbing Padmé's back soothingly. "Probably grease."

"Grease?" Hux repeats, reaching up to wipe it off her cheek with his thumb before she can contaminate the baby. To his surprise, Kylo does not flinch away from the touch, although that might be in an effort not to jostle Padmé.

"I did a little work on the speeder," she says.

Hux frowns. "It's broken?" he asks, somewhat befuddled by this inane line of conversation. Kylo still doesn't look all that pleased with him, but she hasn't moved away from him yet. Between their chests, Padmé lets out a grouchy, incoherent mumble.

Kylo gives Hux an irritable look. "It is now."

Hux rolls his eyes, and that's when Kylo glares at him and walks off, still making the occasional calming noise to Padmé. As Hux watches, she heads for their bed and settles carefully on it, lying Padmé down and then curling up next to her, back facing Hux.

Strangely, Kylo does not protest when she feels Hux sit next to her on the pallet, and he takes this as a good sign. He starts gently undoing the tangled knot of her hair, coaxing it free of the pins she's haphazardly stuck in it. "You're going to get the sheets dirty," he tells Kylo, quietly so as not to disturb the baby. Padmé is in the final stages of fighting off a nap, the duration of her blinks growing longer and longer. "You're filthy."

Kylo does not deign to respond to this, remaining silent until Hux traces a finger over the shell of her ear, at which point she gives a soft growl of, "Don't."

Kylo is sensitive about her ears, although she'd surely die before admitting it. Some secret part of Hux finds it endearing. "Talons away, Lady Ren," Hux mutters. "She's nearly out."

"Yes, and if you wake her –,"

"You'll end me, yes, I'm aware," Hux says, shifting carefully so that he can lie on his side. Kylo doesn't stop him, but she is unnaturally tense when he settles behind her and carefully tucks an arm over her middle, one hand resting over Kylo's where she loosely cradles Padmé. Kylo rarely lets him hold her like this, but she allows it now, gradually relaxing against him.

Silence falls, and Hux resists the silly urge to kiss Kylo's ear, because if he does she might actually throw him out of bed, never mind their napping child. He knows he ought to be quiet, but something has been nagging at him for a while now. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asks finally. "The moment you knew. When you even suspected."

For a moment Hux thinks Kylo is going to ignore him, but he knows she's paying attention because he can feel her shoulders stiffen. "I foresaw how you'd react," she says, like the confession is being dragged from her. "I knew you wouldn't want it."

Hux sighs. "You know," he says thoughtfully, carefully tugging her closer to his chest, "for someone who can read minds, you can be quite obtuse."

"Insult me again and I'll show you obtuse."

Hux rolls his eyes. "You must still be feeling poorly. Even your retorts are generally better than that, Kylo."

Hux can hear Kylo's soft intake of breath – a suppressed laugh. Beside them, Padmé sleeps, oblivious. Hux isn't sure if Kylo has performed some trickery to keep Padmé from hearing them, but he's grateful for it. This isn't the kind of conversation that ought to be interrupted.

Kylo is still for a few moments; if Hux had to guess, he'd wager she's looking around in his head, very carefully. Kylo must hear this suspicion, because she whispers, "I can't figure you out. How you feel about this, I mean."

"I needed a moment," Hux admits. "To figure it out myself."

"You didn't want Padmé either," Kylo muses. "Not at first. But you love her."

"Of course I do," Hux says, quiet and fierce. "There's not a thing I wouldn't do for her. You must know that – and that I'd do the same for you."

Hux had thought it went without saying that he'd do dreadful and bloody things for the both of them, if either even breathed a word of need for it. That sentiment already extends to the new child – he'd only needed some time to come to terms with it, this shift in their dynamic. It's nothing he can't handle, really, and if Kylo is listening, she knows that now.

Kylo doesn't acknowledge these thoughts, but Hux can practically feel her trying not to smile, even if he can't see it from this angle. "I may have – overreacted, earlier."

Hux doesn't snort at that, but it's a near thing. "Have you ever not overreacted?"

"Shut up," Kylo whispers, voice thick with affection and a myriad of other things. Hux tenses – oh, don't, don't start crying.

No doubt sensing Hux's momentary discomfort, Kylo sniffles briefly and then mutters, "Fuck. I forgot how shitty this is sometimes."

"Are you feeling any better?" Hux asks. With Padmé, Kylo had occasionally been nauseous for days at a stretch. Hux supposes it's too much to hope that this time around might be any different.

"I'm alright," Kylo says, ever the martyr. "Don't fuss over me. You know I hate that."

"I'm not fussing over you," Hux says automatically. "I'll fetch you some food. Soup or something."

"Later," Kylo says, a touch petulantly. "Stay here for a while."

"You need to eat. The baby –,"

"—is fine. Shut up, Hux."

Padmé shifts in her sleep, sighing softly, so Hux has no choice but to remain quiet. For a moment, he just watches Padmé over Kylo's shoulder, studying the gentle rise and fall of her little breaths. After a few minutes, Kylo herself seems close to sleep, her body slack against his. Hux rather naively assumes Kylo won't notice if he kisses her ear now.

"Knock it off," she hisses, but without any real malice.

Hux grins against the nape of her neck, totally unrepentant.