Darkness had always been building inside Rey. It was a rot inside her. Tendrils grasped at her chest, her shoulders. It was a heat: that spread down her arms and tensed her back muscles. A boiling mass underneath her skin, ready to lash out at an aggressive target. Darkness was a permanently clenched fist awaiting action.

That was unfair. Everyone had darkness inside them. Fear, anger, hatred; these were all normal human emotions. It was a reasonable response to feel fear after being left to die on Jakku. It was a reasonable response to feel anger at the parents who left her to die on Jakku. Any person would feel the way she did, given the circumstances.

Rey supposed not everyone could lift rocks with their mind.

The Millennium Falcon was a mess of the soldiers and technicians of the Resistance. They'd been in space for two weeks now; somehow undetected by the First Order. Sweat and dirt permeated the air, the sounds of arguing over planets and strategies rang down every corridor. It was deeply strange for Rey. Her previous living quarters had been a gutted space ship (alone), a working space ship (mostly alone), and a hut on a desolate island (more or less alone). Constant barrages of noise and people were agitating. She'd get one page into the ancient Jedi codes and someone would be asking her how to fix this or what did Luke say exactly, again?, or look Rey, BB-8 got a blaster modification! Rey hadn't minded the first few times; company was a novelty, but she was getting irritated when it had been two weeks and she hadn't even finished the first chapter of the dry (and Rey knew dry) texts of the Jedi.

The newest interruption had caught her attention, however.

"So Poe wants to try to get BB-8 a lightsaber."

Finn sat across from Rey on her bed; she'd decided on semi-private quarters as a big important Jedi or whatever, sharing the room only with Leia. He twisted the old blanket in his hands over and over, turning Rey's unmade bed into a very unmade bed. The dim light from the lamp caught the warmth of Finn's face, casting a sunset hue on his dark features. Below them, BB-8 wobbled around the room, animated.

"…I see."

It was a rare moment, that Finn or Rey had time to speak with each other each in a casual way. They'd stolen glances in the hallways, sat together while eating or discussing strategies, but actually talk to each other?

"You can do it, right Rey? Poe will be crushed if his droid isn't force sensitive."

Rey wondered if excessive BB-8 modification was how Poe and Finn were coping with the heavy losses of the resistance as well as the death of a galaxy hero. Finn was quieter, now. More serious. Poe was quiet and that wasn't strange to her, but she'd been told he was a hot-shot pilot who'd personally mouthed off to Kylo Ren's lapdog. It didn't seem to match the image of a man sitting thoughtfully at the war table, brooding over his coffee before speaking.

"I didn't know BB-8 understood the ways of the force." She sort of patted the droid. BB-8 seemed to pluck up, its little head swerving, beeping confirmation. "Oh you do know, don't you?"

BB-8 beeped at her again and Finn smiled. "He's a good little guy. Maybe he can be your apprentice. Get him little robes. Or…"

"Or?"

His expression became serious, voice wavering a little. "I didn't do too bad with a lightsaber either, did I?"

Rey hadn't considered that Finn might be able to feel the force as well. Well. Everyone could, right? Everything was connected. Jedi didn't need to be mysterious magic space heroes, they just needed to feel it. Maybe? She barely understood all of this herself. If only she had time to read a certain book…

Could the Jedi really come back? The full ramifications of what Luke said hadn't really settled. Everyone was connected to the force. It was life and death itself. Everything. Could everyone harness everything? In a way that wouldn't lead to more Kylo Rens in the world? A tenseness ran through her. Was it Luke that did it, or Snoke, or was Kylo just truly twisted beyond all redemption? Finn would never—

"You still with me, Rey?"

Rey nodded. It was just an unpleasant thought, and unpleasant thoughts could be wished away. She looked at Finn. "Do you… feel it?"

He moved a little closer on the bed. "You're talking about the force, right?"

"Yeah. If you… reach out, can you feel it?" She thought of Luke's lesson. "Inside your head, I mean. Not with your hand."

Finn frowned, looking at the blanket. "What do you mean?"

"I guess… close your eyes and try to sense the things around you. I wasn't really sure either at first." She took his hand, and Finn made an interesting expression that she didn't quite understand. "Just feel. Don't think."

"Feelings…" Finn sighed, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.

For thirty seconds, all Rey heard was the sound of his breathing. A sort of shallow breath, impatient in its purpose. She hadn't let go of his hand, and it was hot against hers, which always felt chilled on spaceships.

Then his breathing slowed. As if matching hers, pulling her down into its comfortable pace. Rey's eyes drooped. Her body was comfortable.

Awareness seemed to expand: Finn beside her, concentrating so hard, BB-8, a little pulse of electricity, the people outside, talking and playing and arguing, Leia, shining like a beacon of energy. Life was everywhere, within each and every one of them. Even the Falcon had its own signature energy.

The stars, so far away, seemed to beam back their power, space itself was alive and waiting for them, out there, in the cosmos. Planets took on feelings, identities almost. Threads of matter and light were woven together, everything was one—

Hello.

-Images of red warriors, twisted into mangled bodies—

Rey scrambled back to full awareness of her surroundings, slamming the force connection shut from within her with all the mental violence she could muster. How could she be so stupid? Letting herself go, letting herself feel when that… monster was out there, ready and waiting for…

Her hands shook, one still gripping Finn.

Finn jolted to awareness too, eyes wide. "I… felt something." He seemed half awed and half terrified. "What the hell was that something?"

Did he see?

"What… what did it feel like? I… Wow, um…" She blanked. Speech couldn't seem to come.

They'd just discovered Finn could feel the force, and all she could do was panic over a single word tossed from a villain? She shuddered, moving under the blanket.

"You okay, Rey?"

Towering over her, ready to kill—and a deep-seated feeling in her chest that she would have killed him to protect herself, in that second, the person she thought she could save—

"I…" She didn't say anything for a few moments, only letting go of his hand when she spoke next. "Finn. I. I'm sorry. Do you want to talk tomorrow? I don't feel well. If you aren't sure about anything, ask Leia, alright? She at least knows a little space magic."

Finn gave her a doubtful glance, but nodded. "Okay, Rey. If that's what you want. You need anything?"

She shook her head. "I'll be alright, Finn. But thank you."

It would be another week until they reached a safe system, Leia told her as they prepared for bed. (Or: Leia went to bed, Rey would read until her eyes blurred too much to continue and met something close to a half-slumber.)

Rey flipped to a chapter of one of the Jedi books, ignoring the long-winded introduction referencing several works of Jedi academia she did recognize from several hundred years ago, as well as the chapters of the history of the Jedi starting from the time eternity began. Emotion, yet peace, it read. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. "Any planet in mind?"

"We're discussing several options, but we won't know until we receive correspondence back." Leia sighed, and took a sip of water. She seemed so tired. "There's a few garden planets I'm hoping for, given their resources and potential to help, but… right now, we're looking at desert and an ice world."

Chaos, yet harmony… "Garden planets, go for the garden planets."

Leia smiled. "Luke was from a desert planet, you know."

Rey raised her eyes from the dusty tome. "Really?"

"He was from the middle of nowhere in a little planet no one cared about. He started off as a moisture farmer, of all things. Practically a nobody."

Rey gasped, although Leia didn't seem to notice. The older woman seemed to be reminiscing. "Han and I used to tease him about it, after everything. I was a princess and Han was a scoundrel, and Luke was a farm boy from the sticks. And now…" She sighed again. "I always knew I'd be the last one to go."

"I'm sorry, Leia."

"That's kind of you, Rey. Don't worry about me. You just worry about that Jedi nonsense, and I'll manage the rest." She pointed one finger at the book. "Study up, kid. Those ancient Jedi mantras aren't going to learn themselves."

Rey continued down the page.

Death, yet the Force.

Sleep came as Rey had finished a chapter on Jedi dress codes, which, to a scholar of ancient religions, might have been deeply fascinating, but to her, they were almost meaningless. (She did not think the secret to defeating the First Order had anything to do with apprentice braids or color schemes for robes.)

Unfamiliar words and phrases popped into her head, as she drifted off. Padawan. Midichlorians. Strange words made a chain that lulled her into a rest.

Her dreams were the usual: strange landscapes she'd never been to, half-obscured faces of people she presumed to be her parents, a pit within her, cold and twisted and empty. Some scenes were new- Snokes, the warriors in the red armor, the force pushing her around like a toy…

Sand slipped between her fingers. Familiar. The night sky was devoid of starlight or its moons. Black silhouettes against the midnight blue sky cast deeper shadows into the sands. She walked along a ridge, in the dimness of the gloom. Two figures followed her, their footprints heavy and careless. Rey moved faster, towards a blue glow in the deep hills of the landscape.

The figures lurked behind her, wraiths of memories with no context. She started to run into the caverns; crimson salt deposits stuck out like spikes from the interior. It was viscera of the earth, clogged with broken fighters and racers in its belly. Like bloody bones. Her foot caught, and Rey tripped endlessly over the rusted machinery. The figures were catching up, grabbing at her robe, her hair. They had no faces, no eyes. Just humanoids, trying to drag her down into the sand.

(Down into the pit, where the darkness was stirring after its long sleep within the earth. Where the waves reached up to caress her wounds with their salt water.)

The weight of the lightsaber was noticeable now in her pocket.

"You can do it, you know. Stop them." There he was. As always. A ghost in all black robes. The same sullen pale face, the scraggly hair. It disturbed her to know there was muscle underneath his clothing. Rey was drowning. Sand was up to her waist, her arms refusing to pull her up, her staff discarded. "Let them go. Make your past go away."

It was a deep voice. A familiar voice. One she thought she could have saved.

Her voice was a hiss as it came out. Sand pushing on her chest. "Just because you're a murderer doesn't mean I am."

"What did you think you were doing with those knights, Rey? Temporarily stopping their life force with your toy?"

This was what Rey could never tell, if it was a dream or force manipulation. Either way, it was entirely unnecessary. "Go away!"

"Now now. Is that any way to help my newest padawan?"

"Go AWAY."

"You're nothing without me, Rey."

Rey woke up the way she always woke up recently: panicked, sweating, and full of fear and anger.