Summary: He woke up completely startled, his heart raging with a thunderous boom against his chest. His skin was crawling from the fear that pulsed through him, beads of sweat forming pools down his face. But this time, the nightmare was not his own. Kylo Ren wakes to find the force bond was not broken after Snoke's death or the Battle of Crait as he anticipated, and the chills are too much for him to fall back asleep.
AN: What can I say? The talents of some artists and writers far more talented than I have inspired me with enough Reylo to put this little one-shot together. I found a prompt that talked about Character A being unable to sleep, and Character B coming into to try and understand what was going on with Character A. It filled with me Reylo feels I am never sure what to do with. Hopefully, you guys enjoy it if you come across it. Review if you do, it is always appreciated. :)
He woke up completely startled, his heart raging with a thunderous boom against his chest. His skin was crawling from the fear that pulsed through him, beads of sweat forming pools down his face. He moved to sit upright in his bed, only then noticing the ghostly white of his knuckles as he clutched the thin, black satin sheets as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded. It was not the first time Kylo Ren had woken up in such a panic. There were many times during his life as Ben Solo that the dark influence of Supreme Leader Snoke had caused him to wake up with such distress. It would continue after he joined the ranks of the First Order, but it became mixed with distrust of his new comrades, the dark memory of his uncle and the glistening blade, and the continued unbalance he constantly experienced.
His room was dark, blackened from the curtains drawn shut over his window. But there was not the same eerie presence of the darkness he usually felt surrounding him after one of his panic-filled dreams. He had grown accustomed to the way he felt after waking up to the pulsating darkness, he knew what to expect. The dreams that dragged him out of his slumber always had the same revolving theme: his failure, his incompetence to finish his life's destiny. The inability of his skills to complete anything remarkable, and the disappointment of those around him. He always woke up with his mind still trained on the specifics, but all he felt in that moment was the groggy fog of waking up before a completed sleep cycle. No, this was something entirely new and he didn't like it.
The sound of heavy, labored breaths filled the room around him, and he placed a hand to his chest as he stood up to glare in the mirror. Only, his reflection confirmed what he had started to suspect. It was not his nightmare that had woken him so violently. It was hers; the girl who had denied him after he had given up everything he had known for decades for her. He had assumed, wrongly apparently, that their force bond would be severed when she slammed the door of the Millennium Falcon in front of his eyes, escaping with the rest of the traitors to his new rule. It was better that way, he had convinced himself. The Resistance was no match for the First Order anymore; he had felt Skywalker's energy dissipate into the Force, and although she was skilled, she was too untrained to take them on alone. He had actually started to believe Snoke was the one who had initiated their contact when no accidental touches had come from their bond in the almost two months since the battle on Crait. He assumed the last touch he felt radiating from her was the last of Snoke's energy leaving the world, that it had chose to remind him that he was always going to be alone-had always been alone-and that he would always be forgotten and abandoned in the name of the bloody Resistance.
But apparently, the Force had other plans. He had been right to let himself believe that they were connected because they were special, because they were...similar. 'It doesn't matter,' his brain growled. 'It doesn't matter because-' His thoughts were quickly interrupted as his stomach twisted tighter than his fist had ever coiled around his lightsaber, her agony still evident.
Whatever she was experiencing in her sleep was not enough to wake her even though it hadn't failed to wake him up down the bond. He closed his eyes and stalked back over to his bed, throwing the covers over his head like a child hiding from a monster in the closet.
He reminded himself that there were no more monsters in his closet. He killed his demons. If anything, he should be the monster in the closets of others.
He was not doing this because he was responding to some type of fear, he was doing it because he was desperate for sleep; he could feel the energy of the ship and knew no one of consequence was awake. Hux was dead sleep himself, unable to even attempt anything against him. This was one of his few true opportunities to regather his strength, and she was once again taking something away from him.
A shiver with the power of electricity trickled down his spine, making his stomach curl and his head throb. 'What could she possibly be experiencing?' His brain nearly growled. He rolled onto his side, trying to decide if the growl was coming from his annoyance at being awake in the middle of the night, or something else.
That flicker of self-doubt only made him angrier. 'Of course it is nothing else,' he sternly told himself.
He stopped to wonder if she could feel him down the bond. Was that making the intensity of whatever was torturing her worse? At one time, back when she had reached out to him after her dive into the dark, cold waters of the island, he had hoped his presence would bring her some comfort. He doubted that even if he wanted that now that it actually could. She had defined herself as his enemy once more, when she abandoned him unconscious in Snoke's throne room.
Part of his heart thumped wickedly at the thought that his presence could be making things all the worse for her. He had no qualms with delivering traitorous scum with fitting punishments, things that made their skin crawl or threatened to tear the very fabric of their nature apart. He had shown that with the pleasure he derived from ripping apart the Resistance pilot's mind after they captured him on Jakku.
So why wasn't he enjoying this?
The sound of a whimper rumbled through his room, with such strength and velocity he was sure the rest of the ship would be able to hear it. In a few moments, he was sure the entire ship would be at arms, trying to discover the source of the attack ready to squash it like a bug.
He debated, cold and calculated, about the benefits of reaching out to her to make her wake up and shut up.
Perhaps then he would be able to return to his slumber. Or, at the very least, he could drink in the pleasure of seeing her tear stained cheeks, enjoy the taste of her misery. Once, he had longed to see the same fear he had experienced on the face of his enemy, to soak it in and know it was retribution for his own suffering.
'No.'
His brain for all the twisting he had allowed the Dark Side to do, fought against that very instinct. It made him ache in his chest, the twinges of pain worse than the sickness he was fighting in his stomach.
He clenched his eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Perhaps, he could lull himself back to sleep somehow, even with all the noise.
Hands reached out, feeling the cold hard ground. A breath escaped trembling lips, as limbs worked together to push a body slowly from the floor. Broken pieces of weapons and armor was thrown around the room, heat from a heavy battle still radiated in waves around a weakened body.
His body twitched. This was her memory, not his. The bond between them was sending something from her subconscious to him. And it felt wrong. It felt violtale to be privy to her emotions. He had forced himself inside of many minds, extracting information without even so much as blinking his eyes. But, it felt sickening, completely wrong to be experiencing one of hers.
Rey's eyes fixated on his unconscious body, ignoring the wreckage around her. He could feel the relief radiating from her as she noticed she woke up first, while his own body displaying no signs of exiting his slumber. The same anger from the night on Starkiller Base, when she called him a monster, radiated from her face. Her hand reached out, calling his saber to her. She hadn't needed to look to the fragments that remained of Anakin Skywalker's, her instinct drove her to know his was the only working weapon in the room.
He scoffed. How easy it would have been for her to finish what his uncle had started decades before her-to strike him down while he was defenseless. She was weak, he would have done the same to her if he had woken up first.
'No, you wouldn't.'
He growled.
She slowly approached him, crouching on the ground next to him. She kept her distance, close enough to touch him but did not reach out her soft fingers.
His breath held. He would realized he was disappointed at the scene. But, what right did he have for her to reach out to him? Why should he expect her to, she had turned him down afterall.
'Oh, Ben,' her sickeningly sweet voice rang out like a siren song. 'It still isn't too late.'
The pain in his chest intensified. It was beating faster than it had when he woke up to her panic, but it was tender. He wasn't quite sure if the feelings he received in the bond could completely overtake his body, completely shatter his skilled defenses and kill him-but it sure felt as if they could.
Her fingers stretched out and wrapped around one of his stray curly locks of hair. She pushed it away from his face for a better view. 'You're not ready to submit to your light. Kylo Ren isn't relenting on you, Ben. But it isn't too late.'
He wanted to scream out in anger. She should return his hate, she should add her fiery strength to their feud. But, here she was, still being tender and kind to him.
She leaned down, attaching his saber to the holster at his hip with her free hand. A smarter enemy would have taken it with them, he knew. Clearly, she simply didn't understand how long it would take to locate a new crystal, even with the First Order's vast expansion of resources. And even after he would have had to locate a new crystal, it was a painstaking effort to bond his energy to the weapon. But there she was, one hand still on the holster and the other tracing a small circle on his temple.
'But I cannot join you here, Ben. I cannot join Kylo Ren,' her voice echoed with a deep sadness. 'But, I hope that one day I can join Ben Solo. You're still our greatest hope,' she added, almost inaudible. He wondered if she even recognized that she had voiced those words. 'Stay safe out there.'
The memory was over as quickly as it had begun, and the corners of his mind began to fill with the darkness still radiating from her currently sleeping form.
He felt the sweat on his face continue to drip down his neck, the effect of her light in the memory and the current darkness mixing within his mind.
Only, it wasn't sweat this time.
He stood from his bed once more, reaching for his cowl.
'Rey.'
No response. Whatever was trying to sink into her mind at the moment was stronger than their connection. He inhaled sharply.
'Rey. Wake up, now.' His command, while strong, had streaks of concern and tenderness mixed in. 'Rey,' his voice now bled with the tenderness she had shown him in the Snoke's throne room, 'it's just a dream, Rey. Wake up.'
He could feel the cold metal of her staff against his throat in an instant, almost as if they were really in each other's presence once more.
His bottom teeth bit up on his lower lip, his eyes twitching carefully between her heat pressed so closely near him, the length of the staff the only thing keeping them from touching. Her stance was strong, too powerful for anyone ordinary after waking up from such negative energy. He admired her for a moment. She would never understand how incredible it was that she had flown out of her bed, her strength in the force already drawing her weapon in seconds; when he had dealt with these dreams for years and still woke to panic.
"Were you dreaming about me," he stated, less of a question and more of a sign of interest.
He could still see the tears from the fear her nightmare dripping against her cheeks, sweat dripping down her forehead, those his presence seemed to be making her angry enough to sum up some control. "Why would I dream about you," she spat in return, clearly irate at his presence in her room. She seemed to know that it was their bond that brought her his presence, because she removed the weapon from his throat but still kept it tight in her clutches. He remembered those first dreams, the ones where he would call his lightsaber to his hand and swing as invisible forces beyond his control.
He shrugged simply, sensing her getting angry at the time it was taking him to answer. "You were quiet uneasy in your slumber, it woke me up."
"I woke up because you were shouting into my mind, Kylo. There is nothing else going on for you to concern yourself with."
The anger flushed from her face, calling her back to the feeling she woke up with. 'No, it wasn't you.' She thought. But, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of opening up to him again so easily. For a moment, when the thought first crossed her mind, she expected him to respond that he had heard her response to his question.
The switch from his birth name to his chosen name hurt, but what else did he expect? He stood tall, unmoved at her response regardless. His voice cracked as he was forced to ask again, although he had already heard her response. He refused to impose himself any deeper to what she was feeling that he already had. "Was it me?"
"No."
His head moved slightly in a nod, as his eyes darted around the room. He could sense the dark energy radiating within in the confined cramp four walls of one of the small rooms of the Falcon. He tried to stifle the memory of the time he tried to hide in this very room, and sneak off with his father to some distant planet. He tried to fight how fitting it was for her to have selected this room to set up her quarters, and he wondered if she had sensed his energy, had come here to find some reminder of Ben Solo.
"If you tell me, it'll go away. I can help you."
She glared at him, the heat radiating back to her face. "There is nothing I want from you."
He half-shrugged once more. "Suit yourself. But, the longer you are awake, the longer our connection will keep me here. I am certain of that."
There was no sound of a threat in his voice, he merely spoke matter-of-factly, and she could sense that. She didn't want him here all night, she wanted him away from her as quickly as possible. She reached her hand up to her chest, trying to massage the tightness away. She didn't want to be open and honest with him either, an open book for him to read, to assess, to try and cater to the way he had started to comb through her fears and insecurities before Master Luke had interrupted.
Her voice shook, "Why would I let you help me, Kylo. Aren't I nothing? Shouldn't you be able to roll over in your comfy ship and fall back asleep?"
He bit his tongue, his body becoming even more tense when he thought it impossible at that moment. "I shouldn't have said that," he responded, barely audible. It wasn't an apology, but the words showed that he felt some remorse or guilt over his words on the Supremacy. He found his footing and spoke only slightly louder. "I am the only one you have that knows what it feels like to wake up to this surrounding darkness."
The confession startled her. Brute honesty was not something she had come to expect from the twisted Kylo Ren. It was something that Ben Solo had provided her, in the short time she thought she had dragged the frightened, tortured boy out of the corners the monster had locked him away in. She was almost certain, however, despite all of her hope and belief that she had seen the last of Ben Solo. Her knees buckled, her strength remaining in her hands around her staff. He sensed it, extending his hand to her lower back and seated her back on the bed.
He knew better than to sit directly beside her, but his cowering height was threatening when she was standing, let alone sitting down. His free hand reached out, summoning a nearby box he could sit on. They were not about as even as they could possibly ever be.
"How long have you been having these nightmares," he whispered, his eyes remaining trained on her body as he watched her shake. He carefully reached for a blanket, draping it around her shoulders. She remained glaring at him, but didn't stop the comfort from filling her small frame.
"I've always had nightmares," she replied, glaring at the top of his head. If she looked him in the eyes, she knew she would be undone then and there. "About being abandoned on Jakku, about things that I couldn't understand."
He shook his head, but remained waiting patiently while she spoke. It hurt in places he didn't think it could to learn that she had troubled nights of sleep her whole life, just like he did. But, those were not the nightmare that had kept her pinned asleep in such fear. And he had already known when she told him that it was not he that had caused this one that there was only one other party responsible. But, he wanted to wait until she was ready to admit it, until she could speak for herself and admit what had transpired.
She noticed the shake of his head and knew she could not keep lying. "Snoke," she whispered back. Her voice had some strength this time, radiating from his energy however dark it felt. "I can still feel his presence on me, in the throne room. I can feel it as if he were still doing it, right now, in this moment."
A weaker man or woman would have broken into inconsolable tears. Hell, he had on countless occasions when the dreams first started. It took his breath away that she did not.
"Snoke is dead. He cannot hurt you anymore. I took care of that."
His words were less matter-of-fact then they had been before. True, they were all facts. But the look in his eyes, whether subconscious or not, told her he meant more in that moment. This time, they almost rang with a promise, with a thick security blanket wrapped around them trying to alleviate her pain and calm her senses.
She wanted to reach out and touch his hand again, but she refrained from the instinct. If he sensed her desires and her hesitation, he did not act. He just remained sitting in front of her. "You were stronger than I was, after those painful memories of his touches came to me," he told her. An honest confession. She could feel him radiating with a sense of pride in her. It would drown her if she let it.
"It felt so real," she whispered back.
"I know. But it's not here anymore. It's all part of the trick. I have felt the same. That pilot of yours knows the feeling too. You could reach out to him for comfort, if you wanted to." How he ached at the idea of another person-no, another man- comforting her instead of him. His stomach churned, but it wasn't out of his own interest. It was the first time he felt true remorse for violating someone else's mind the way Snoke had done to his. The way Snoke had done to Rey.
"Will I ever normally again?"
"It may take some time. But, you should have enough light to cast his darkness out."
Another honest confession. It made Rey wonder if this was all Ben Solo, or all Kylo Ren, or that taunting mix of both that intoxicated her.
Her breathing evened. He stood, knowing if he left now he could catch the last few hours of sleep before he had to watch every eye and target trained on his back.
They could both sense that no further honestly would come from the other surrounding the evening's events. At least, not right now.
Her hand reached out to him, clutching tightly. 'It isn't too late.' Her thought shook the room and he wondered if anyone else could feel the strength of her promise. 'You can come back. I can still help you.'
'I would come back for you, Rey. But I cannot come back for them.'
'And I cannot leave them.'
'Stay safe, Rey.'
And just as quickly as he had been flooded with their bond, it was gone once more. He crawled back into bed, wondering if she would be able to do the same. If the weight of his promises would make any difference on her ability to sleep.