War consumes everything.
Hux is on the bridge, overseeing the battle field, giving commands, doing the best he can when it happens. He doesn't see the blast but he sees the destruction.
His beloved's ship. Gone in an instant.
His heart catches in his mouth, he chokes on it as his sweetheart disappears before his eyes.
Lost somewhere in the void of space amongst the carnage.
A violent death, a bitter ending to something so wonderful.
There are no words that describe the utter destruction of his heart.
It does not matter that that the battle is won.
There is no time to mourn.
His eyes sting but he does not cry, tears were a weakness he could not afford. Not now. He must be strong.
He is in charge now after all.
They hastily crown him Supreme Leader. Pomp and ceremony forgotten. There is no celebration, not that he would allow it. There is only mess to clean up. But there is no mending his heart.
The bridge is sombre and quiet, no one need say anything. His loss known to all.
He does not sleep. He does not have time. He has a legacy to defend.
He tells himself he is more useful on the bridge. Kylo would know the truth though, he does not want to be alone.
He had been such a sweet boy, despite it all. Despite the blood and fights and bitter words.
Things had been going so well.
Snoke's departure had made things easier, had brought them together properly, allowed them to enjoy their relationship without worry.
There was still too much left unsaid, undone.
Hux had had so many plans for the two of them. For the galaxy. For the future.
Everything about their rooms upsets him. A joint space, a joint life torn apart.
He cannot bear to look at that stupid burned mask. It reminds him too much of Kylo's awful fate.
The space feels large and far too empty without Kylo's presence. He unfolds clothes and puts things on the floor, wraps himself in Kylo's old cowl. It doesn't help.
He lies on their bed, bereft, watching old holos, of a face slightly too boyish too young and perfect, wishing that his Kylo was beside him instead of a flickering projection. He tries to calculate the hours since it happened. It seems like an eternity. And yet only a few cycles. It is still the longest they have been apart.
He talks aloud, in the hopes that maybe somehow Kylo might be watching him. His love used to talk about force ghosts after all.
He must be going mad.
There are ways, many ways of creating life. For the right price.
Snoke had always worried about Kylo getting himself seriously injured or killed. He had kept samples for insurance, should Kylo require blood or new tissue, a hand for instance.
Hux only remembers the samples when Mitaka suggests destroying them! Burying them or something wasteful like that. As if that would bring Hux peace. As if Hux wanted peace when the vile resistance had destroyed his universe. As if he could bear to see the miserable remains of Kylo put in the dirt on some dismal planet. Like trash.
There are better uses for such resources.
Hux's first thought is of a clone. He cannot deny there is a part of him that wants Kylo back in his arms where he belongs. But it wouldn't be the same, it wouldn't be the Kylo he misses. He wouldn't be the man Hux had grown up in love with, the strange boy who had encouraged him, written him terrible poetry in an elegant cursive and stolen all his first.
No he'd be someone else, something terrible. Kylo but not Kylo. Someone else and Hux couldn't let someone else into his heart, its smouldering remains belonged to Kylo.
Besides even on his best days his love was a tornado of conflicting emotions.
Hux falls into uneasy sleep at his desk despite another hefty dose of stims. He dreams of Kylo and those haunting sad dark eyes. In his dreams Kylo smiles and holds a child in his arms. It's such a wonderful sight Hux knows he must be dreaming.
Hux wakes and orders a child. One that is both his and Kylo's.
An heir is a very useful thing after all and Hux must look to the future.