Rey hated sleep now. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt as if she was falling, falling back into the snows of Starkiller or the hot dunes of Jakku. A strange combination of hot and cold would prickle her skin when exhaustion beckoned her to rest. She was working until she couldn't stand. And she had plenty to do. It had been a rough couple of months since the Battle of Crait. The Resistance was in shambles, and the fight seemed lost. Rey, exhausted from her efforts to repair the Falcon after a skirmish in the Outer Rim, settled down for the night. It was quiet, and she felt an ache in her chest. In the other rooms and the narrow hallways, there was the soft pulse of Poe, Leia and Finn, all drifting into an uneasy sleep. She felt defeated; she had lost the battle to rest and so much more. She sighed.

Untying her hair and stripping down to a simple shirt and pants, she curled up in a corner she had claimed, and lay down on a bed of blankets. It was the only reminder in the Falcon of her previous home, the way she would nest in the broken down AT-AT. She noticed R2-D2 and BB-8 running their diagnostics silently, but keeping their emergency power on in case of an attack. She almost felt safe. Oddly, she fell asleep quickly that night. Something in the air changed.

She opened her eyes, confused. She felt dizzy. Was the floor moving? Instead of seeing the dimly lit Falcon, she saw a black, reflective room. How was she standing now? Had she been there before? It was eerily quiet. Slowly scanning the room, with a lump in her throat, she saw sleek black furniture, a burnt hole in the wall, and dark, crumpled clothes at her feet. With a bare foot, she swept them away, and was troubled by the fact that her reflection was missing. Is this a dream? She wandered the edge of the room, wanting to see what was in the shadows. There wasn't much. Just the furniture. Her fingers brushed the burnt hole in the wall. There were similar markings around it, slashes, jagged at the edges. The marks burned with an emotional energy she recognized. Something rustled.

She quickly turned her head and saw something she thought she never wanted to see again. There, in black silk sheets, the broad ivory back of Kylo Ren. Rey froze. She hadn't seen him since Snoke's death. Her breath caught in her throat at the thought of the offer that she had turned down. His chocolate eyes had been so vulnerable, and her heart ached at his broken plea. They were both broken now. And she hated it. Her attention turning back to the Supreme Leader's back, she could see he was trembling slightly, and she began to hear his erratic breathing. She had only heard rumors of what had become of him since their last encounter. Some say he has hidden himself away in something resembling grief, others that he has become as merciless as ever. At this point, she could believe either.

Slowly, cautiously, she approached him, her bare feet crossing the cold metal floor. She stood behind him, and saw markings along his back, craggled burn marks, and diagonal slashes. Gingerly, she brushed them with the tips of her fingers which were dwarfed in comparison of his wide chest. Some of the scars were quite new, but small. The larger ones were more faded, less raised. It was painful to look at. She was surprised that he did not stir. If anything, he calmed slightly at the gentle brush of her fingers. It was hypnotizing.

She circled around the large bed to his front. She didn't know what she expected to find. A scowl, or a look of anger, perhaps? No. His wavy mane was in his face, moving and shaking with his breathing. He was twitching. His brows were furrowed, eyes squeezed shut, with moisture collecting at the edges. Was he crying? She knelt down, and without thinking, gently moved his hair out of his face. There were dark circles under his eyes, much like her own. War rarely leaves time for rest.

She carefully smoothed his hair, stroking it slowly and softly. He stilled even more under her touch. The skin under her fingers seemed to crackle with energy, filling something she never knew she was missing. It was surreal, a man she thought of as a monster, was here, solid and warm. It was…calming. Her eyes teared up. She remembered the moments on the bridge, his conflicted face, his begging of her to join him. The visions, oh, the visions. Standing together, forgetting the past. It was breaking her heart. It all came gushing out, and she silently sobbed by his sleeping form, closing her eyes and bowing her head. Something in the air changed.

She felt it again. She felt him again. When she opened her teary eyes she was met with the dark gaze of Ben Solo. This wasn't Kylo Ren, The Jedi Killer. This was Ben. Her hand stilled as they stared at each other for a moment. Realizing, she quickly drew her hand away and wiped away her tears as she turned away, moving to leave. Her hand felt cold in the absence of his skin under hers. She felt his touch on her arm. He was sitting up now, looking bewildered and…something else. She stopped, holding her breath.

"How are you here?" He asked, almost a whisper. She turned back to him, crimson shame sneaking up to her cheeks. He looked as if he was in a dream, in disbelief.

"I…I don't know," she replied, in an equally hushed tone. This wasn't supposed to happen. This shouldn't be happening!

"I thought the bond was-"

"…broken," she finished, looking away. "I shouldn't be here."

She stood, and his touch fell away. She began to rush away when he stepped in front of her. How did he get there so fast? She couldn't look up, not without being met with his wide, toned chest and his dark eyes. Reluctantly, she raised her eyes to his. He gazed down at her, with something she couldn't quite place. She looked back down, seeing their bare feet, his dark pants, and their absent reflections. Was this a dream? Or a nightmare?

"Rey," he whispered in a broken voice. How was his voice so deep? It made her feel…things. She looked up. She had almost missed this. Missed…him? His eyes were impossibly dark, and darting between her eyes and her mouth. This was wrong. She shouldn't be meeting with the enemy in her dreams, or even thinking of him like…like this. Something in the air changed. The atmosphere in the First Order ship was no longer thin and cold, but heavy and warm.

"I'm sorry," she said. He looked at her again, in a way she could not describe. It made her weak in the knees. She didn't know what she was saying, why she was saying it. "I'm sorry about all of…this. I can't be who you want me to be, and it breaks me to see you like this. So alone, and afraid. I-I..." she was crying again. Suddenly, strong arms surrounded her, a large hand cradling her head, her face against his warm chest. She let it out. They were both shaking, bodies of tremors and labored breathing. Why was this happening? They pulled away slightly, and locked eyes again. Her hands unconsciously spread against his warm chest, and it stirred something she had rarely felt before. The bond she thought was gone began to thrum between them, arcs of energy passing through their skin. He moved first, holding her face as his lips met hers. It was quick, and over too soon. They stood, silent, inches away. Rey lifted a hand to cover one of his, and leaned into his touch. It was at this moment that a crossroad opened up in front of them. She saw their futures again, and this time, it held much more meaning for both of them. It was right. They were right. His eyes moistened, and he couldn't bear to look at her.

"It…it was Snoke…he manipulated us, used us. This isn't real. This shouldn't be real," he whispered, a pained look in his eyes, darting away. She couldn't bear it. He was starting to pull away, just as the stitches were being trimmed.

"Ben," she whispered urgently. "Look at me."

He quietly obeyed, and she saw his conflicted eyes. He didn't know how to feel about this either. It was almost relieving.

"Look at me. I'm here. If Snoke really made this…connection, it would be long gone. But I'm here. You're not alone." It felt strange to echo his words, but it felt…right.

"…I know," he whispered after a long pause.

This time, she moved first. Leaning up, and stretching to reach, their mouths met and locked once more. It was different this time. The energy burst and crackled, and everything changed. He leaned down, almost bending her over backwards, wrapping his arms around her tightly, almost violently. They could hardly breathe, gasping as if they were drowning. The kiss became open-mouthed and frantic. Their tongues met and the bond thrummed even louder in their ears, a humming bouncing through their interlocked mouths. Neither cared who had made the noise. She was running her hands through his hair, pulling, and he began to stroke her sides roughly, and a spark was sent to her core, causing her to arch into him. They broke apart for air, but before Rey could catch her breath, Ben stooped even lower and sucked behind her ear. She sighed and moaned quietly. Something in the air changed.

With something resembling a growl, Ben lifted her into his arms, holding her up. His legs seemed to move of their own volition, backing her against a wall. Something hard began to press into Rey's thight. A hand slammed against the black metal for support as he continued his way down her neck, marking her. Their movements slowed, the kisses became more chaste, and their hands settled. They locked eyes again. He was looking up at her with total and complete adoration, and she looked at him with sympathy and something much, much more. It dawned on them how much this meant. So lonely, so isolated but they had found each other. With or without Snoke, they found each other. The connection hummed in approval.

"I love you," the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself. A flash of worry danced across his handsome features, and he feared she would leave. This couldn't be happening.

"I know," she replied, cradling his face in her hands, kissing his forehead gently and brushing the hair out of his eyes. "I love you, too." Did she just say that? The words fell right on her tongue. His eyes filled with tears, and a choked sob escaped from his throat. This whole time, he hadn't let anything out. And there it was, his heart on display, a scarred, broken organ of his love. He buried his face in her neck as the strangled cries rose from him. She held him tightly, desperate to ease his pain. Their lips met once more, before they tumbled into the dark bed.

He ended up on top of her somehow, and they froze, stunned. Was this really happening? The bond began to thrum more intensely, and the scent of arousal wafted into the air. It was suffocating and almost painful, it felt so good. Gently, Rey moved to remove her thin shirt, and Ben stared in awe. She was his. Something sweet and possessive blurred his vision as he tenderly groped her small breasts. Kriff, she was perfect. She moaned and arched into him as her nipples began to pebble under the pads of his thumbs. He lowered his mouth to one, flicking his warm tongue over one and was met with a groan that made him harder than he had ever been in his life. Continuing his ministrations, he slid an arm under her back and lifted her up further. Her hands had become tangled in his dark mane, pulling him closer, closer, closer. He released the nipple with a moist pop, and the wetness between her thighs doubled. Eager to return the favor, she began to suck on his pale collarbone, tracing she scar she had given him with her tongue. He groaned, throwing his head back, and his arms began to shake before stilling once more. While he was distracted, Rey flipped them over so that she was straddling his chest, her hands roaming his toned muscles, trailing down to the soft, dark hair-

"Rey," he whispered, like a prayer. Their eyes met again, and his were questioning. "Do you…do you really want to?"

She grasped him, and he jolted. She smiled and nodded in a way that he couldn't imagine in his dreams. His heart swelled. He had never felt so whole, so loved, and they hadn't even really started yet. He pulled her back to kiss him before her hand began to move. He had to pull away, his breath escaping him. She released his length from his soft paints and began to scoot them down his hips. The feel of her electric touch was welcoming and so, so right. His pants soon joined Rey's shirt on the floor. Lazily stroking him, Rey shimmied down so her cheek rested against his manhood, which was flushed and standing at attention. He was panting now. Slowly, her tongue grazed him, and it was the best feeling Ben had ever felt. He groaned low in his throat, gently weaving his hand into her soft brown hair. She leaked the bead from his tip, and he groaned even louder.

She hummed as she enveloped him with her lips, sliding tenderly up and down, her hands massaging his bucking hips. His other hand joined in her hair, and his back arched forwards to a sight that stunned him. Rey, his scavenger, his Jedi, worshipping his cock with her beautiful mouth. He didn't feel worthy. Sensing this, she pulled away, licking her lips.

"Ben," she moaned, moving up his torso. The sound sent energy straight through him, and he groaned again. She couldn't believe how good he tasted, how good it felt to have him squirming at her touch. And then, through that, his self-loathing had reared its ugly head. "You are worthy of everything." She whispered against his lips. Their mouths met again, and he could taste himself on her tongue. His hands lowered from her locks to her buttocks, which he groped needily, managing to remove her pants in the process. His fingers soon found the soft brown curls between her thighs, and she gasped. Gods, he would never grow used to that sound.

He gently pushed a finger into her folds, and they both groaned. She was so wet. Gently entering her with two fingers and circling her nub with his thumb, it has her turn to pant and come undone. He sat up so she was in his lap, and his mouth found a breast which he sucked on hard enough to bruise. She shoved her hands into his hair pulling him closer. She never wanted this to end. Her hips began to buck just before he pulled his hand away, and she whimpered at the loss of his warm touch. He leaned forward, and she fell back into the dark sheets. He towered above her, marveling at the sight of her splayed beneath him, loving and completely his. Their thoughts were echoing in each others mind now.

"I'm yours," she gasped. "And you, Ben Solo, are mine."

The name she loved to call him was hers now, only hers. With her, he was Ben again. She leaned up and began to kiss the scars that riddled his chest. Her hands traced the slashes on his back.

"Say it," she whispered, echoing his words.

"I'm yours," he rumbled. She licked a nipple.

"Again."

"I'm yours," he moaned as she sucked on his ear. "Gods, I'm yours."

She grasped his length once more and looked into his impossibly dark eyes, and he leaned into her, the tip of his length brushing her hot, wet entrance. They groaned in unison at the sensation. The bond was sparking, linking their senses. She could feel her skin under his, and his under hers. It was bizarre and very arousing. Then, he entered her to the hilt and she practically screamed in pleasure.

He could feel her, all of her, and she could feel him, nothing but him. They shared the fullness in Rey's heat and the tightness around Ben's member in a way that heightened the sensations to something almost painful. Almost. They began to move, joined at the hips, groping and holding each other's backs, faces buried in each other's shoulders. It was pure bliss. Connected, so, so connected and in tune. He slid in and out of her with delicious noises, and strained grunts and moans. Her legs hooked just above his buttocks, and she brew him in deeper and deeper with each stroke. Their pulled their heads away, and held each other's faces in their hands, foreheads touching and eyes locked. The bond was screaming now, a roaring sound in their minds they couldn't ignore. Ben lowered a hand to her most sensitive nub and stroked. She threw her head back in surprise and pleasure. She was moaning, her breath mingling with his.

Sweat slicked their skin as they moved together. Tightness was building, a crescendo of something neither had experienced before. And it was beautiful.

"Don't stop, Ben," she gasped, holding him as close as physically possible. "Don't you dare stop."

He could only groan in response, his strokes becoming more erratic and growing in speed. She began to tighten around him, and then it happened.

Lights danced behind their eyelids and an explosion of sensation arced between the two. They were coming undone in the most poetic way, panting, begging, and touching. The wave grew from their toes and into their chests, and burst through the connection, bringing them both to their climaxes.

Her walls milked spurts of his seed, and they were screaming each others name as they shook. They slowed and stopped. It was perfect. They felt as if they were floating in their bond, flying aimlessly through the energy between them. The bond quieted, but hummed stronger than ever.

Slowly, he pulled out from her, and they both whimpered at the loss of heat. They frantically held each other, tucking themselves under the blankets. The only sound in the room was their labored breathing. That's all they did for a while, breathe and touch each other gently, tucking hair behind ears and wiping away tears. Exhaustion began to pull at their limbs, and their eyelids became heavy.

"Will you stay?" he begged, whispering. She smiled and stroked his cheek.

"As long as you need," she replied, kissing his nose. Then, her head fell onto his shoulder and sleep ushered them into a deep, soundless rest. Before she fell completely, she saw him smile for the very first time. The ache in their chests was gone.