Author's Note – I stumbled upon a super nice drawing by the lovely HeidiHastings on Tumblr and my muse was practically BEGGING me to make a one-shot fic about it!

Synopsis – Kylo is used to depending on medicinal droids for treatment to his injuries; not himself – with no reference knowledge at all – or, anybody from the Resistance.

Bruised

"It is our wounds that create in us a desire to reach for miracles. The fulfillment of such miracles depends on whether we let our wounds pull us down or lift us up towards our dreams." ― Jocelyn Soriano, Mend My Broken Heart

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Kylo is used to depending on medicinal droids for treatment to his injuries; not himself – with no reference point information – or, for that matter, anybody from the Resistance.

Not one person knew he was injured, or in need of medical care, however; the former Supreme Leader of the First Order – former would be a suitable word for it, he reasons – did not think they would concern themselves with such an inconsequential matter. A blaster wound would cauterize instantaneously, but being shot down over the desert of Jakku – convenient? – and crawling out from the wreckage hadn't just undone old wounds but created new ones as well, and they bled through the makeshift layering of what he constructed for bandages; nothing more than scraps from his own cape; it took long enough to tear off a decent chunk to wrap around his abdomen enough for a temporary fix.

He retires for the evening. His room is smaller in comparison with others', and he didn't share a bunk with anyone (not that anyone would be keen to share space with him), and he is even curious why he was afforded such a luxury; half expecting a twelve by eight cell, which he thinks would have been benefitting of him; but at least he is indebted he is rewarded with his own shower. The steel walls were almost too austere and there was only one option of temperature. It took effort for him to shed his clothing. The frigid water helped to his ease his comfort a little bit, but then he'd look down and see splotches of red circling the drain. Hm, he'd need to take care of that.

What would normally take him just a few minutes now took him several; the soap used had exasperated his open wounds. No one would fault him for being in a good deal of pain. Kylo took care into how he swathed the towel around his hips, purposely avoiding his abdomen. There were minute blood droplets everywhere he stepped, and even the towel caught a few as it dropped, and he reached for his pants. He only managed to slip them on before the constant movement was enough to cripple him to a sitting position on the edge of his cot.

The bandage wrap from before – soiled with a mixture of his blood, sand, and dirt particles – was tossed into the rubbish. What he lacked in disinfectants, the darksider made up for in a bottle of alcohol he swiped from the pantry. Kylo rummaged for his cape, a frayed little thing, and started tearing into it with his teeth. When he had an adequate of a piece, he saturated it well. He hissed something analogous to a swear when the cloth is pressed to his abdomen, and the alcohol mixes with his blood. Screwing his eyes shut, Kylo called upon the force to ease such discomfort; let him deal with his physical pain, and let the force allow him to block it out.

As Kylo pulled back on the cape, he visually inspected his wounds; the freshly unfastened cauterized wound in his gut had stopped bleeding, for now, and most other injuries were minor at best. He also examined the bottle of alcohol; Tevraki Whiskey; shrugging, he took a swig – it burned his esophagus like sweet fire, but his expression might have suggested that he wasn't used to the flavor. Once his gullet seemed temporarily satisfied, Kylo rummaged for the remaining off-white stripping he'd taken from Jakku, tore off a long piece of it, and started re-wrapping his injuries.

He may not have seen, didn't notice at all, or even heard the hiss, but in walks Rey with a food tray; apparently, she had been calling him from behind the door and Kylo hadn't even paid attention. "What in the Force- ?!" The light side user was stunned in place by what she saw.

The darksider is momentarily distracted; "It's nothing," he fibs, but continues the wrapping, as if Rey standing there didn't even phase him, or the food she brought that reminded him he hadn't eaten yet.

Ben…, there is that pull in the force; she's speaking to him, but not verbally.

Kylo is used to hearing his real name from her but takes half a second to think if he should respond, and then he does, I'll be alright. Don't worry about it, sweetheart…

Rey felt that familiar flutter in her heart, that feeling she felt when she heard that voice before, a long time ago, when she was still a lost child and not yet integrated herself with the Resistance. It was that voice, and that term of endearment she remembered. You should let me help

Kylo physically shook his head, I can handle bandaging my own wounds

She took notice of the Tevraki Whiskey; Rey was unfamiliar with alcohol. It wasn't something she ever tried to acquire a taste for. Curious. She snatched it up and took a whiff – the contortion and wrinkle of her nose might have suggested to another observer that she was skeptical; it certainly brought a small smile to Kylo's face. She could hear him saying Careful with that in her head, but it was already touching her lips. She pulled the bottle away quickly with a heaving cough.

Rey wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand before she replaced the bottle on the nightstand. It took her a small handful of seconds to stop coughing. Once she had come back into her own senses, she dropped down to the edge of Kylo's cot. He was fumbling with the wrap. And he didn't seem to protest when she took it from him, had him stand, and started again. Around, around, around – she was sure to cover all the injuries that blotched his torso.

Every time she would circle the wrap around his belly, Rey would have to lean in close, and it was difficult not to feel the heat wafting from his massive body. Oh, how easy for her it would be to have laid her lips on him. Kylo may have sensed her thoughts, or her desires, as the pair soon made eye contact and he could not look away from her. Strangely enough, she found it impossible not to be drawn in. The darksider reached for her waist and a surge of electricity coursed through Rey's blood, now white hot and pulsing in her ears.

She could have kissed him just then. Force knows she wanted to. But she restrained; there were deeper, maybe more darker thoughts she should keep repressed. What she wants is unattainable. At least it is in her mind; force knows what she might believe is in Kylo's mind, or in his heart.

Rey adverts her eyes at that very moment and tries to banish the thought from her mind. Surely, she would meditate tonight. "A-Alright…" She secures the end of the wrap; she catches herself looking into his eyes again and she knows that if she doesn't leave now, something would happen by her hand. "You need to eat."

At that, she turns and walks to the door. She just about thumbs the button on the wall when she feels Kylo's inner voice calling her back. No, she thinks; she also fully knows that he can hear her every thought. But when she takes a gander over her shoulder, he has the Tevraki Whiskey bottle by the neck and is extending it out towards her. Rey stands there for a heartbeat, wondering if she should agree to take his offer or if she should just keep walking.

Stay.

Rey sighs; her mind is made up.

She stays.

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Author's Note – I'm not sure how I feel about the rest of this fic after Kylo gets out of the shower, but I punched through. This is meant to be a stand alone to coincide with someone's fanart…but depending how I'm feeling and only IF I feel it'll work, I may make another stand alone one-shot that ties in with this one