Desperate

Rey was in his arms, against his chest, and skin to skin with Ben Solo. Only Ben Solo would have been so desperate as to need this. Kylo Ren never needed anyone, but Ben Solo was another matter entirely. For this, Rey was grateful.

They had done this often, and Rey was no stranger to the tug of his consciousness on hers. Time and time again they had regaled the same dance. Kylo Ren would call, she would respond. Rey didn't like to admit it, but to be fair she had been the one to reach for him more often than not.

He never ignored her.

This time was no different, but something about it surely was, for this time there was no rage in Kylo's call. No anger that needed a release. Rey wondered whether, this time, she would be able to go back home without a fresh lightsaber burn and new lie to tell. This, Rey knew, was wishful thinking. Something, however, was different. Kylo Ren was desperate.

Rey had no trouble finding his ship in the docks of the backwater world she had found herself on. How he tracked her here, even with their bond, was a mystery. She found the ramp open and activated her own saber when she saw the red glow within. Though Rey tried, she could not centre herself enough to rejuvenate her exhausted body from her latest mission, a mission that had run horribly wrong and nearly ended in her death. Perhaps, she thought grimly while steadily moving forward, today will prove the day a decision was made.

Sure as fate, the minute Rey saw his face their dance began. Red and yellow clashed viciously, and the ship's fuselage gained many more gashes and wounds to add to all those before; bearing the tally of its master's sordid history. When they grew tired and sloppy, punches and kicks began to land more often, and as usual, fresh blood droplets speckled the consoles. Still, Rey felt something was odd. Kylo had no bite. This dance was missing its usual poison. If Rey didn't know better, she'd think he had just spent a week in the clutches of a Vong assassin, as she had.

What makes you think I haven't? His voice in her mind started her. Rey faltered, and Kylo managed to throw her off balance and pin her to the wall. Rey could only stare at him in confusion, fighting doubly hard to break the saber lock.

Pain flickered across his face before he pushed his thoughts into hers once more. You think this bond requires consent? Now there was anger. Faint, but it was there. You called out in agony! What was I to do but hear? Most of my nights were spent in nightmares with you in that damned cell! Rey shrunk away from him when he pounded a dent in the metal next to her. It was his turn to hesitate when he felt her flash of fear through the bond, and she used that mistake to her advantage, spinning out of his hold and to the centre of the room.

Kylo Ren recovered quickly, and they were crossing blades once more not even a second later. Sparks obscured their vision, but the indiscernible flood of emotion between the two over their connection was enough to fuel the ungraceful hacking and blocking they had been reduced to.

Rey wondered who would 'win' this time. In truth, this had come to mean something entirely different. Could it be called winning if your fights continued? She didn't have time to think further as a twist of Kylo's wrist sent her lighsaber flying from her reach, and she didn't have the energy to pull it back to her.

"Pick it up!" Kylo's voice was hoarse, but still loud enough to her exhausted mind to incite a flinch.

Rey shook her head and slumped against the bulkhead for support. Her last reserves had been spent, and her body's wounds were finally taking their toll on her mind. She wondered why she had ever responded to his call in this state. She knew the answer.

"Please pick it up." His voice was softer now. Barely a whisper. Kylo Ren was desperate. For what, exactly, Rey was unsure, Kylo was so rarely desperate. A moment hung in silence, suspended in the tension that both pulled them together and kept them apart when Rey met his eyes with her own.

Then that moment shattered when Kylo Ren deactivated his saber and pulled Rey towards him with a final burst of the Force.

What started off as a dance of blades turned into one of frantic hands and needy lips as clothes were shed and all too many lines were crossed. Rey guessed she understood now, as Ben let down all his walls for her and they drank each other in as people denied water for days, that the line between love and hate could be a thin one indeed. If there even was a line.

Ben Solo had been desperate indeed and although Rey was averse to admitting it, while she was with Ben like this, she was most certainly desperate too.