Kylo Ren stared down at the fleeting rebel ships, departing from the obscure planet, Polis Massa. It would not have been his first choice as a hiding place, though he could see how the asteroid field would come in handy. Had he been a less experienced pilot, it may have even given him an issue. As it were, he was the last of the Skywalker line, with a legacy of immense power from the Force and a flair for flying, only aided by the fact his father had been the infamous Han Solo.
The name caused him pause as his hands maneuvered across the controls of his TIE fighter. He had not thought of his father since Supreme Leader Snoke, his former master had also been murdered. The blood on Kylo's hands was constant.
You're a monster.
He was. He had made no attempt to suggest otherwise. He had done horrible things, terrible things in the belief he could improve the galaxy. There was no room for mindless suffering in his new world, no reason for anyone to follow the mindless teachings of a dying system. It was all lies, falsehoods the ancients clung to so they could manipulate the young generation. He would have none of it.
A laser canon went off in his proximity. Kylo easily spun away from the fire, recognizing the signature of the Resistance pilot who had locked onto him. Dameron, was it? The best pilot in the Resistance, indeed. He was mediocre at best.
Kylo took another pass over the rest of the fleet, sending shots raining down over the few ships in the sky. This wasn't a battle. This was an execution. His fury was unchecked, as he blew another X-wing from the sky, before Dameron looped around and was within range once more.
None of it mattered; not one bit because she was gone, His mother. He had felt her become one with the Force. It was as if the entire universe froze around him, creating a singular effect whose sole purpose was to grieve the loss of The General.
The familiar sting of loss struck him hard. Harder, in fact, than that of his father's end, which he had wrought with his own hands. Snoke had told him the deed shattered him. And Kylo had felt the break, as if his insides were made of glass.
Yet nothing had prepared him for the crippling loneliness he felt. He had not experienced such a hollow feeling since his youth. Encountering it at that moment, while seated alone in his room had been nearly too much to bear. If he had thought himself being torn apart before, it was overshadowed by the ripping of his soul at the loss of his mother.
In vain he had reached out to the bond, borderline frantic, calling for her. There was no response. There hadn't been for weeks now. Not since Crait.
Rage surged through him at the memory of her face as she shut him out. He slammed his thumb down on the trigger, blasting Dameron from the sky.
A comm came through from General Hux. "Shall we eradicate the Rebellion once and for all, Supreme Leader?"
"No," he replied, coolly. "We need some of them alive."
"Sir?"
"How skilled are you at setting a trap, General?"
Rey cursed in Huttese for the sixth time that morning.
Chewbacca let out a distinctly Shyriiwook cry from above.
"I know it's busted," she replied, "Yes, you were right. We should have stopped in Rugosa for parts."
He made a guttural noise in agreement and nodded.
Rey lowered her face before she rolled her eyes, her wrench working around the managed piece of metal she was attempting to salvage.
The Falcon has seen better days. Actually, it had seen better years, but Rey had no time to dwell on that now. They were experiencing a major issue with the sub-light engine. She had to restore it or they would remain stranded on Socorro.
"Hey Chewie, how goes it?"
Rey grimaced at the sound of Lando Calrissian's voice. While Chewie trusted him and he had been a friend of Han and Leia's, Rey had the distinct impression he was not above suspicion. She considered using the Force to get a good read on him, but as with the first dozen times she had considered the option, she cast it aside.
It had been her choice to cut herself off from the Force. While both physically painful and exhausting, it had kept the Resistance safe. It had maintained her role as their ally, without the fear of compromising her friends.
Until Kaydel Connix had discovered her connection.
Rey slammed her fist against the side of the metal panel nearest to her. The memory enraged her. The lieutenant didn't know Rey. She had no concept of what Rey had sacrificed or what she had been through prior to saving the Resistance. She had no place in exposing Rey's secret.
"Ok down there, girlie?"
"I've got it handled," she snapped.
"Sounds like Leia," she heard Lando remark to her Wookie co-pilot.
She almost slammed the panel again. Calrissian was annoyingly attentive. Since they had landed, he had come and go on the ship — her ship — whenever he liked. It wasn't something Rey agreed with, but out of respect for Chewie, and Han, she kept her thoughts to herself, lest her anger get the better of her.
Hearing him compare her to Leia Organa-Solo was not helping her keep her emotions in check.
The passing of the General had been a solemn occasion, albeit a succinct one. Leia had been the guiding light of the Resistance. The princess turned rebel, turned Senator, turned General was the embodiment of everything Rey admired. Leia had been strong, beautiful, and formidable. She stood on her own, with or without the support of others, regardless of how anyone perceived her. She was a self-made woman; an unstoppable force. Leia had deserved far more than the humble burial she had received.
And for that, Rey was sorry.
She was so sorry — sorry she hadn't been a better Jedi, sorry she hadn't been stronger in resisting the pull to the darkness, and sorry she had ignored the warnings of her master to track down her bond mate. Had she used the time she had spent confined on the Supremacy to aid her friends in the Resistance, perhaps none of it would have ever happened. Perhaps she wouldn't feel like the shell of her former self. When she had gotten ready this morning, she had barely recognized the girl who stood before the dull mirror in the 'fresher.
It hadn't helped she was out of soap. Supplies had been rationed, to preserve those she had saved until they were able to find shelter on Polis Massa. It had been fitting they should go there to lay the General to rest. Her life had come full circle on the planet. During the start of the burial ceremony, Rey had grazed her hand over Leia's casket, while her friend and supporter, Commander D'Acy, mentioned the General's connection to Polis Massa, the place where the Skywalker twins had been brought into the galaxy, the offspring of the strongest Force user to ever live.
Anakin Skywalker.
Darth Vader
A man with two names — a man whose grandson was following in his footsteps down to the very last detail, baring his own two names.
Ben Solo
Kylo Ren.
The mere thought of his designation, a name he forged himself to separate himself from those who gave him life, had her insides twisting with guilt. He was no longer simply Kylo Ren, the leader of the Knights of Ren. After what transpired in the throne room, he had succeeded his former master. The conflict within him, the clash she had felt since the moment she had met him, dissipated the moment he had ended Snoke's life. It felt like when the force joined them. Suddenly, all noise ceased and there was only them. In that crucial moment, she had felt the struggle within him go silent, as the clarity of his decision became the only sound he needed to hear.
Rey had been naive, believing he had come home. He had chosen another path, one she could not have foreseen, except for in her nightmares. After fighting alongside of him, having him save her life and saving his in return, she had felt closer to him than anyone else she had ever encountered, including Finn. All animosity had vanished. She had actually considered he would be her new home. He was what she had been searching for.
Then it had all fallen apart.
"Chewie and I are going to head in and have dinner. You're welcome to join us," Calrissian offered. He always did.
"No thanks." And she always declined.
"Suit yourself, but you don't run on fuel cells like this baby, here, girlie. Remember that."
Switch off, she thought, irritation bubbling over as she once again tried to fix a coupling for the engine.
It was going to be another long night.
"Many happy returns, Commander," Kylo greeted Dameron, as the pilot finally gave to in his new interrogation room.
This one had been outfitted with Force sensitivity precautions, an upgrade which both impressed and unnerved him. However, at present, they were turned off, allowing him to probe into the man's mind with ease.
"The accommodations are different than I remember," Dameron snarked, as he attempted to resist.
It was futile. Kylo had no need to be gentle. His patience was already worn thin from having to convince Hux using the remaining Resistance members to capture the last Jedi was the only way she'd come out of hiding. When the General has raised the question why he couldn't just use the Force to find her location, Kylo had nearly Force-choked the life from the redhead.
"Where is she?" He demanded of the pilot. The commander would know her whereabouts. He would find her. No more running, no more refusing, she would be his.
"Who?" Dameron questioned, gritting his teeth.
"The last Jedi."
There was a flicker of something in the man's expression then, not quite surprise and not quite disgust.
Kylo dove deeper until he found the reason for it.
"You cast her out?"
"She betrayed us," Dameron hissed. "For you."
Intrigued, Kylo pushed farther, ignoring he strangled cries from his captive. He saw her, saw how her face fell from the accusations, saw how her eyes went dead of their light, and how she had taken off, leaving them all.
She hadn't betrayed them. They had betrayed her.
The hurt was plain as day, the same loneliness washing over her normally vibrant features as he had seen in her past. It cut into him, his temper spiraling out around him in waves as the thundering sound of his holler echoed against the metal walls.
Stepping back from the prisoner, he unleashed his lightsaber, slashing wildly at his surroundings. His displeasure at the memories he had gleamed through the commander's mind only subsided once he was coated in sweat and his breathing had become labored.
After several moments of calculated silence, he exited the chamber, instructing the guards to not interact with Dameron unless otherwise instructed by himself, befitting storming off to his chambers.
He was nowhere closer to finding her. She had hidden herself from him. The Resistance had let her go. No one had seen her in days. She could be anywhere by now.
But he had seen her board his father's ship. Of course she would have fled on that piece of junk. She was sentimental, like his old man. It was that very same foolishness which would lead him right to her.
Kylo changed direction, heading for the bridge. He needed to speak to General Hux.
Two brown eyes were focused intensely on her. Rey took a step back, unsure why he was watching her with such a look. He continued to advance, quick steps bringing him closer to her. Rey tried to fix him with a glare, but he didn't seem to notice.
One of the porgs, who had made a home for himself on the Falcon, and refused to leave, followed her. In a way, it reminded her of B.B.-8. A pang in her chest at the thought of her little droid friend, caused her to pause in the corridor. When he had left the Resistance, she had left him behind. And Finn.
"What?" She stared down at the bulbous eyes in front of her, her annoyance clear.
The creature merely let out a small tittering sound before waddling over and resting itself against her calf. Rey sighed, relenting to bend down and scoop the bird-like species up. Rey carried him (she assumed it was a him) with her to the crew quarters.
Once inside, she set him down on the empty cot beside her own. She was in desperate need of a shower. Despite Chewie and Calrissian's lack of faith in her skills, she had managed to patch the engine, at least enough to get them out of this system and further away from the Resistance and the First Order.
Last Jedi or not, this was not her fight. She had never asked for any of this, had never wanted it. She had only wished to survive long enough to see her parents again. And she had.
As disappointing as the realization had been, it had given her closure. She was no longer tied to Jakku. She was free. Free to explore the galaxy, as she had always imagined, free to fly unrestricted, free to live her own life — love not just survive.
The hot water ran cold, signaling she had been in far longer than she had meant to be. Rey slipped out of the narrow stall, wrapping herself in her towel, before rooting around in her bunk's drawers for a clean set of clothes. Before she had left for Ahch-To, Leia has supplied her with a few outfits, which she had considered unnecessary at the time. Now, however, she was grateful for the feel of fresh fabric on her skin.
The stowaway porg was fast asleep where she had left him she shook her head to herself. He wasn't a great companion, but seeing as how Chewbacca preferred to spend his evenings with his old friend, at least now Rey had company to fill the void.
She went to the kitchen to make some rations. It was better than what she had traded Unkar Plutt for, but just barely. Sitting on at the small circular table, she surveyed the ship. It had become more of a home to her than any other place she had lived, including the hollowed our AT-AT she had fashioned into a dwelling for herself, yet she still felt as if something was missing.
It wasn't hard to determine what that something was.
Ben.
Rey hated how the familiar prick at the corner of her eyes started up at his name. She hadn't said it out loud, not since she had been in the throne room with him. Even hearing his name spoken in her mind was enough to cause a familiar pain in her chest. Fresh tears ran freely from her eyes, racing down her cheeks and dampening the top of her clothes. It was beginning to be hard to breathe.
She still had not made peace with Ben's decision. She had hidden away her true feelings, her brokenness, buried it deep under layers of bright smiles and happy laughs she kept up, as her own version of a mask. She had to. After she had rescued the Resistance, everyone had labeled her a hero, not at all shy about using the title 'the last Jedi' around her and when referring to her. So she played along, assuming the role because at the end of the day it gave her a purpose. It was another barrier, another wall to lean on to keep herself upright, to keep from falling apart. Without it, she was sure she would have crippled underneath her disappointment and guilt.
But she could hold it off no longer.
In the quiet confines of the Falcon, she welcomed the reprieve from the constant chaos which had taken home abroad the legendary smuggler's vessel. Rey had been confident in her vision. She had never doubted Ben would return with her, despite Master Skywalker's warnings. Tears continued to stream down her face, as she remembered how bitter those words had sounded coming from him.
This is not going to go the way you think.
And it hadn't.
Had he felt her disappointment? Could he feel anything anymore?
She had felt his rage on Crait. It had trickled through their bond, seeping into her, trying to overpower her determination to locate and save the Resistance. His wrath had been all-consuming, flooding over all other emotions. It had made Rey feel justified in her decisions to leave him. But it had been short-lived. Once the adrenaline rush of using her powers, of securing the safety of her friends had diminished, she was left with only the gaping void in her heart — the space she had carved out for him.
Kylo excused himself from the bridge, content with his decision and once again made towards his chambers. It would be a couple of hours until the First Order reached Socorro and he wanted to rest before he met with the last Jedi. No doubt she would attack him and his men on sight.
As he passed the interrogation room, he paused. The echo of a memory filling his head.
The rebel fleet...there's still time to save them.
Her voice. It was always her voice which called to him. Even before Snoke's demise, he had heard her, always so much clearer and louder in his mind than his master had been.
She was young, so naive as to think he cared about the murders, traitors, and thieves which made up the Resistance. No, it had been his mother's pet project, an endeavor which had failed and cost the woman her life. He blamed them for her end, even though he knew he was as much to blame.
It had been First Order shots that led to her being sucked out into the cold vacuum of space. It had been his own side which had nearly killed her before his very eyes. By all accounts, she should have died. But she was a Skywalker and though she had never spent any time trying to master the Force she was blessed with natural ability.
It had saved her, along with the Resistance.
He owed them her life, even if it had ended not long afterwards.
Kylo knew what Rey would want him to do, could almost hear her plead with him yet again to save her friends.
No, not her friends. The people who had cast her out, cast her aside as if she was nothing. She wasn't nothing. Not to him.
He had seen how they had treated her, how Dameron had reacted. The image of her face as she witnessed them separate themselves from her, just as her parents had done, was burned into his brain. She had looked so broken, so crippled by her need to belong, which they had yanked away. He recognized the feeling, felt the loss, as if it was his own, for in a way it had been.
Kylo had gone through the same spite at the hands of his family and had lost her when he had offered his hand in the throne room. Twice she had run away, leaving him lying on the ground, but each time he forgave her. And she had returned to him. He needed to believe she'd return again.
But she wouldn't be pleased if her friends were dead. Unlike him, she still valued their lives.
Gritting his teeth, he entered stormed down to the prisoner cells. He would not free Dameron. That was where he drew the line. Kylo paused by FN-2187's cell, before opening the door with a hiss. The ex-Stormtrooper glanced up, under one swollen eye, apparently from a beating, and glared at Kylo.
"What do you want?"
"Here," Kylo tossed him a blaster and a master key switch.
They were both taken from Hux's own person, a subtle snatch-and-grab Kylo had completed while on the bridge, to keep his name clear of any suspicion. The First Order General would be none the wiser, too hell bent on his plans to publicly execute the last of the Resistance.
FN-2187 — Finn, Rey called him Finn — stared at the devices, obviously wary of Kylo's motives.
"Is this a test? Some Jedi mind-trick shit?"
"No," Kylo growled. He was beginning to lose his patience and seriously question his ability to not murder the man before him. Perhaps he had been too swift in deciding to free Finn instead of Dameron.
"Then why are you doing this?"
"You have six standard minutes to get everyone out and to the launch bay before the next round of sweeps," Kylo informed him, ignoring the query.
"You'll find shuttles there. Make sure to disable the trackers in them when you're ready for take-off."
FN-2187 continued to stare at him. "Why?" He repeated.
Kylo started to retreat to his own shuttle, once again ignoring the question. "It's for Rey, isn't it?"
The ex-Stormtroopers words made him pause. He didn't confirm or deny the assumption.
"I don't know what happened between you two, but if you hurt her-."
"I would never hurt her," Kylo snarled, enraged the man would even think he could lay a hand on her.
Rey had saved his life. She was his future. No matter how she denied it, or him, in the end they would always be bound together. Their future — the vision he had seen — was still possible. He would do everything in his power to make it so.
"You love her?"
Kylo had the man's throat in his grasp in the next second, having drug his entire body across the room. He felt the leather of his gloves crinkle as he squeezed, ready to extinguish the life force within. How dare he question the Supreme Leader? How dare he act as if he understood? Kylo's anger welled up inside him until his anger over losing his mother and losing Rey overtook him, made him forget his purpose in giving the Resistance the means to rescue themselves. He was alone again. Always alone. Always unwanted.
Ben.
It was soft, as if she had been whispering or dreaming. Instinct took over and he reached out through the Force to find her. He couldn't feel her. She was still blocked off from him, unreachable. Yet, it had been her voice. He was sure of it. And it grounded him.
"You will not remember this conversation or who let you out of your cell. All you will remember is my instructions to get off this ship with your rebel comrades."
Then, after a pause, he added. "And you will forget Poe Dameron."
"I will not remember this conversation or who let me out of my cell. I will only remember your instructions to get off this ship with my comrades." Kylo waited. The last part didn't come out as strong, but the ex-Stormtrooper recited the words. "And I will forget Poe Dameron."
"Excellent."
Kylo released his hold and stormed off towards his shuttle. There wasn't a moment to lose.
It was the sound of laser canon fire that startled Rey out of her pain. The blasts hadn't hit the ship, however, they were far closer than she would have liked, probably only several paces away on the landing pad. Against her reservations for using the Force, she knew what she had to do.
Rey took a moment to gather herself. Whenever she opened herself up too rapidly to the Force or exited too swiftly, it had ramifications, usually in a physical sense. This time was no exception. She leapt out of her seat, darting to the refresher to dispose of her meal. Sweat coated her brow and she had to cling to the edge of the basin to keep from collapsing to the floor. She willed herself to be calm, commanding herself to remain strong as the familiar flood of energy washed over her.
It had been days since she had last linked to the Force and then it had only been for a few short minutes, out of necessity to ensure the safety of their landing path. Finding balance, she rose to her feet, leaving the refresher and walking to the main hold. Another blast had the Falcon shuddering violently. Rey's footing was unstable, as she attempted to close the ramp. Hand hovering over the button, she searched the wrecked platform for Chewbacca. There was no sign of him or Calrissian.
Blaster fire erupted, forcing Rey to duck back inside the Falcon to avoid being hit. She wished she had her lightsaber to join the fight, but the shattered remnants of the legendary weapon were tucked under her pillow, a constant reminder of her failure and her lack of weapon. Racing to the cockpit, she threw herself in the seat, remembering when she had to fly off world by herself. All she had had then was her staff and an insane idea.
She still had her staff and it was an insane idea. She didn't want to leave Chewie behind. He was the last of her family, the last companion she could speak with who didn't automatically resent her for her choices, for how she had tried to the make the best out of her complex situation. Regardless, she knew if she didn't get off the platform, she'd never see the Wookie again. Both her and the Falcon would go down.
Steadying her nerves, she initiated the take-off sequence, setting the coordinates for the nearest planet outside of her current system. Grasping the controls, Rey guided the ship up and away from the blasts, shooting off out of the atmosphere and into light speed. In her mind, she kept chanting her mantra over and over again from when she had departed Jakku.
I can do this. I can do this.
It was another echo, from another time, from another her. She barely knew that girl anymore, because it was what she had been, a mere girl, not a Force-user, not the last Jedi, not connected to the galaxy's most powerful individual. She had been nobody. Nothing.
"You aren't nothing to me."
Rey turned in her seat, her blaster going off before she even knew she had pulled the trigger. Kylo Ren dodged the shot, gracefully side stepping to avoid being hit. Despite his size, he was always able to move with such poise and precision. She kept her blaster aimed at him, but he called it to his grasp, tucking the device into his robes. As he did, Rey wrapped her fingers around the middle of her staff, which had been tucked away in the corner.
How had he gotten on board?
"I don't want to fight you," he lamented, noticing her stance. Regardless of his words, he unsheathed his lightsaber.
Her grip tightened in anticipation. "Then you should have come with me."
She felt his anger surge before he moved, signaling her to step to the side to avoid his wide swing. It was close, but she could see the space he had left open, intentionally permitting her to evade the blow. He wasn't trying to strike her down. He never had, she realized. Each time they had fought against one another he had only meant trap her, never harm her.
But to what end?
The girl — his girl — cut through the air in front of him with a swing of her staff. The tip nearly grazed his chest. He backed up a step, unsure how to calm her. She was glaring at him with all the fury and frustration he had felt earlier when he had nearly ended her friend.
Being reminded of her previous companions and how they had hurt her. Hadn't FN-2187 asked him not to hurt him when he had done the very same? Hypocrites. Through Dameron's mind, he had beheld the scene as it had played out.
Rey ran into the room Commander Dameron and the rest of the remaining Resistance leadership were occupied in. "Wait!" she pleaded, as she came barreling in after a blonde-haired girl. Lieutenant Connix paid Rey no mind and went for Dameron, speaking to him in hushed tones so the rest of the room wouldn't be able to hear them.
"She's not who you think she is," the girl told the rebel pilot, turned leader. "She's a traitor."
Shock hit Dameron, along with a jolt of unpleasantness at the possible threat of a mole, or worse a spy within his ranks. Without pause, he turned to Rey, who was standing stiffly in front of the collective. Her gaze was hard set, though her bottom lip trembled slightly. There was a strained concentration in her eyes, mist brewing in the corners, as if she was about to cry.
The stunned silence which permitted the room, lasted longer than he was comfortable with. It wasn't until Commander Dameron spoke, he saw a single person move.
"She's the last Jedi," he insisted, though he couldn't be sure if he was saying it to console the startled leadership or himself.
"She was with him on the Supremacy when we needed her!" Connix cried, pointing a finger at Rey.
"I had to go. You don't understand. None of you do," she attempted to explained.
"We don't understand?" one of the captains spoke up. "You're right. We don't understand. We were too busy getting bombed, watching our friends and family die while you were fraternizing with the enemy."
"Rey beat Kylo Ren in battle." It was FN-2187, otherwise known as Finn, who spoke up next. Though he had been a Stormtrooper, he had saved Dameron's life when he had defected and as such, held his trust. "It was her blade that gave him his scar. I owe her my life. And you all owe her yours. She saved us all on Crait. Or have you forgotten that?"
"I haven't," another lieutenant interjected. "But why go to the First Order and where is that blade now?"
"Broken," Connix stated, evenly, eyeing Rey's empty belt clip. "Wonder how that happened."
"Convenient," another member of the collective agreed.
"Rey," Finn implored her, seeming at a loss as to what to say next, how to protect her.
Dameron noticed the last Jedi had remained silent, not rising to defend herself. He had no way of knowing how their words were sharp, cutting into her, opening her up to the guilt and disgust she had been feeling since she had shut the Falcon's doors on her bond mate. Dameron wasn't aware the hollow cavity in her chest, where she had thought her heart was housed, felt like a gaping hole, as if someone had run her through with her own blade. And he certainly didn't realize how she recognized the looks they were giving her.
It was the same look Luke Skywalker had given Ben Solo before he nearly took his life.
No, Dameron had no idea of any thoughts going through her mind. So when Rey ran from the room, fleeing from the pain, he assumed she was fleeing out of self-preservation, because it was as Kaydel Connix had told him — she was a traitor. When his friend tried to rush off after her, he had the ex-Stormtrooper held back. He had ordered the Resistance to announce the last Jedi was no longer to be trusted and to lock down on the Falcon before she was able to take off.
Kylo had seen through the Commander's memories how the Resistance had treated Rey, how they had turned his bond to her into something tainted, into regret. He had watched how distraught she had become at their accusations, when she had tried to explain her side of the story, about how she had gone to him to bring him home, how she had faith in him, how she saw him as their last hope.
This was why old things needed to die. The First Order, the Resistance. None of them were singularly driven. Both had flaws in their organizations — flaws he could no longer tolerate. Kylo no longer wanted war or death. It was exhausting. He wanted a new order, just as he had told Rey, a new world where Rey had believed in him, when no one — not even his own family — had believed in him.
He needed her to continue to believe in him.
"They disappointed you, just as your parents did," he stated, calmly, before taking a step forward, coming closer to her. "I won't. Rey, I would never do that to you."
"You already have," she spat back, seething under his scrutiny.
"Oh," his face softened slightly, as he took in her words. "You think I chose power over you."
"You did," she insisted.
He took another step, causing her to turn her face away, so she wasn't craning her neck to look up at him. "I asked you to join me. You were the one who chose violence. You went for the lightsaber first." He hummed to himself, dropping his eyes for a split second, while he swallowed. Rey tried to not focus on how his Adam's apple bobbed through the motion. "You always shoot first. I merely defended myself."
Rey struggled to respond, until she recalled his actions on Crait. "And when you ordered to blow me out of the sky in my piece of junk?" His eyes widened in recognition of his venomous command. "I was on the Falcon when you tried to shoot us down." He was staring at her with an undefinable look. "If your troopers could aim worth a damn, I wouldn't be here for you to destroy."
"You think I want to destroy you?"
"What else?"
He caged her in then, his open palms slamming against the cool, metal wall on either side of her. She willed herself not to jump, an instruction she had to repeat when he ducked his head down so he could be near eye level with her. "Tell me," he said, so softly she wouldn't have heard him had it not been for his proximity. "Does it feel like I want to destroy you?"
She trained her eyes on his, searching for the lie, the manipulation in his actions. All she found was pain. He was distraught over losing her, the memory of waking up alone and abandoned in the throne room haunted his dreams. The anger in her gaze when she had fought him for his grandfather's lightsaber was the last he had seen of her until he caught her running away and leaving him. Again.
You have that look in your eyes — the one from the forest when you called me a monster.
Rey sucked in a breath, startled by the sudden overwhelming flood of loneliness pouring off of him. Her slight movement had his eyes lingering on her lips instead of her eyes. She felt a charge ripple along her spine. He leaned in closer. She could feel his breath against her now flushed skin.
"Rey."
The way he said her name, with a level of adoration and at the same time a level of desperation, made her wonder if he had ever truly considered her his enemy. For her, it had been black and white until she had discovered the truth on Ahch-To. He had been the First Order enforcer, a monster behind a mask, and she had been trapped in a destiny she didn't ask for or want, on the other side of the war, on the other side of the galaxy. That time felt so far from now.
Yet, facing him in this moment, she couldn't see anything but shades of grey.
"Please." She couldn't tell if she was begging him to proceed or begging him to stop. Her voice was hardly convincing in either case.
Ben closed the distance between them, running his full lips over her own, as one hand left the wall to press against her lower back. He gently guided her against him, holding her to his chest, as he tilted his head, moving against her. Rey slipped her hands up his chest, lingering over his well-defined muscles. It was no mystery what lurked under those black garments he clothed himself in.
The kiss was over as quickly as it had begun. It wasn't the fiery passion she had expected, but it still had her skin burning. The charge from earlier felt like static in the air, crackling around them, a storm of unleashed tension hovering. It remained between them, an omen of what was to come. The bond was thrumming in such a way, she wondered if it had taken on a life of its own.
Rey rested her head against his chin, focusing on their breathes mingling together as they both came back to themselves. Once she was satisfied they were both able to think clearly, she leaned back slightly, so she could stare up at him.
"What now?" She asked, unsure where this left them.
He was still the Supreme Leader of the First Order, the Jedi killer and she was the last Jedi, accused of killing the former Supreme Leader. They couldn't be more wrong for each other...or more right. His loneliness mirrored her own, the familiar pain of abandonment and self-preservation echoed between them. If he was darkness, she was light. Hadn't Snoke said as much? Dark and light. Yin and yang. The balance.
"Come away with me, please?"
"Yes."
She couldn't be sure, but she thought she caught the faintest curl of lips, a hidden smile. Rey let her hands fall down to meet his, lacing her fingers through his own. There was a spark of energy stemming from where they touched, pulsing between them like a singular heartbeat.
"Don't be afraid," he told her.
"I'm not afraid," she replied. "I feel it too."
A/N: Written for the Reylo Fanfiction Anthology's More Than Love Valentine's Exchange 2018 and gifted to SWAG 77. HUGE thank you to AbyssalSpark for beta-ing this at the last minute. You're amazing!