Against her wishes, the answer didn't just come to her. In fact, it seemed to get father away. Most days, she didn't even want to save Ben Solo from Kylo Ren. She wanted to give him a firm punch in the teeth.

When she thought things like that, she could feel a hand ghosting over her face in the same place where she'd left a deep and marring scar on his. She'd feel her anger ebb away for a moment before realizing that was exactly his intention. Then she would furiously imagine how well his broken teeth would match his fucked up face.

She tried her best not to talk to him. She spent an unsettling amount of time with Poe, but at least he made her smile. He was her friend, as was Finn. It was a strange feeling, having something more affectionate than suspicious companionship.

I'm glad to see that we seem to agree about something. A gruff protrusion into her mind. She flinched, and Poe's face tightened.

"I'll see you later?" He asked quietly. She nodded stiffly, clambering up from her seat and heading resolutely for her quarters.

It's not like I can tell where you are from inside the base. He grumbled tiredly. I'm not even looking.

Why are you here? She asked stiffly. You can keep the connection closed. Why are you here if you're not trying to find us?

Not sure. He grunted. She glanced at him. She was walking, but he was reclined in bed. Not wearing a shirt. She averted her eyes quickly, but he didn't notice. He wasn't even looking at her. His eyes were closed.

Taking a nap? She asked, amused. How human of you.

I am human, you know. He snorted, finally cracking an eye to peer at her.

Hm. Anyways, how would you know anything beyond suspicious companionship? She acidly jibed. He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. I hope you don't mean me. She snorted. Because I'm not only suspicious, I'm downright unwilling.

He scoffed. You can block the bond, too. You don't unless you're in the middle of something important.

It wears me out. I'm...There was a sour taste in her mouth. I'm not as strong as you are.

That won't be true for long. There was a sort of bitter pride to his tone. You're progressing quickly.

Well if you're bitter about it, stop giving me pointers when I train. In fact, butt out entirely.

It's just so painful to watch you butcher sacred sword forms. He smirked. She scowled. In any case, I've given up on trying to see what you're doing when you're doing things you don't want me to know about. But you're right, it's draining to keep the bond sealed off. I prefer to let it be.

That's why you keep it open? She chuckled. Because it's too much effort to keep it closed?

He shrugged, eyeing her. She shifted uncomfortably. How's your chest?

Her eyebrows shot upwards, but she could already feel his irritation. It's alright to feel concern for others, you know. She chortled.

Not for my enemies. In fact, not for anyone. He shook his head, as though trying to clear something from it. Caring is weakness.

Sounds lonely.

If loneliness is the price I pay for power–to achieve my purpose, I'll take it. It's nothing new.

She gazed at him sadly. Having been lonely all my life, and having friends now...people who care for me, and who I care for in return...I can objectively tell you you're wrong.

I cared for people. Loved them, even. He reminded her coldly. If you don't care, it doesn't hurt when they let you down.

How did your parents let you down? She asked seriously. It wasn't meant as a jab, or a sting. Something had made him turn on the people he loved, and if Ben Solo was ever going to see the light again, she needed to know how Kylo Ren threw him into an abyss. Your mother loves you.

I've already heard your diatribe about General Organa's trials and tribulations. He snapped. She pursed her lips. I know she loves me. But she was always too busy for me. I'd be surprised if she even felt my absence when she sent me to study with Skywalker. Han Solo was absent as well. Even when he was nearby, he was working on the Falcon, or dreaming of the next system he would explore. He could barely look at me once I started training. He was terrified that I would turn out like Darth Vader. The possibility itself drove my parents apart. I know he loved me too. But neither of them loved me enough to be there when I needed them.

And Master Skywalker? She prodded. A furious sneer etched itself into his face, contorting nastily.

You still call him Master? He doesn't deserve the word. Be glad you rid yourself of his influence before he destroyed you.

What do you mean?

If you ever see him again, ask him what he did to me. Then you can ask me why I choose to detach myself.

Or you could tell me.

He stood from the bed, stalking towards her. No. I won't expose myself to you and have you call me a liar. You can ask your precious mentor, and get the truth from him.

She stood her ground, even though they were now so close that she could see that his eyes were brown—not black. If you despise attachment so much, this bond must be a true curse for you.

It is.

Then why don't you close it?

You're not worth the extra effort. He sneered. She jolted, hurt, and threw up a wall against their bond, shutting him out. She wasn't sure why it had bothered her. She knew he hated her, and she'd heard that from others before. Perhaps she'd hoped that she'd never hear it from him.


His voice woke her in the middle of the night.

It's more than that. He admitted sourly. She frowned, cracking an eye open. Apparently she couldn't block him out while she slept. He was sitting on the edge of her bed.

What are you talking about? She asked blearily. What's more than that? The reason you don't cut off our bond?

Anger bubbled up in her chest, but it wasn't hers. And it wasn't...fury. It was frustration. Agitation. Burning, but not as bright as she'd become accustomed to. I feel hollow and lost. He sneered.

She squinted at him, confused. And you think that peering in on my life and making commentary on my friends and my training regimen will make you feel fulfilled and found? There was a note of incredulity.

You misunderstand. He shook his head. His next words were spoken aloud, and they boomed in her mind and echoed with truth. "When I can't feel you, I feel empty and purposeless. Incomplete." Her stomach dropped to her knees and her lungs tightened.

"Your entire existence should make you feel that way." She intoned coldly. His jaw twitched.

"It does. It has." He said monotonously. His eyes were blank. "I hate everything you stand for. I hate the Jedi…"

"I'm not a Jedi."

"I hate Luke Skywalker…"

"I left him."

"I despise the New Republic…"

"How do I stand for them? I'm not a kriffing politician!"

"And you have faith in everyone until they prove you wrong. You're too good." He sneered.

"The first time I met Finn, I hit him in the face with a quarterstaff." She intoned dully. Was this the impression she'd given him? That she was some sort of mascot for the Resistance?

"But the first time we fought...I felt peace for the first time since I left Skywalker's care." He admitted quietly, dark eyes boring holes in her. "Not just peace, either. I felt whole." He looked sick to his stomach for telling her this. She had a sinking feeling it meant that he was telling the truth. "Seeing you...feeling you...it's soothing. I don't feel fractured. Furious, sure, but focused and rational." He shook his head. "Like there's been this...veil over me that's shrouded me from seeing things as they are. I hate the things I hate, but…" He shrugged.

"But what?"

He caught her eyes again, a furiously passionate but utterly unintelligible look in his eyes. "I'm not hollow, following orders in search of promises kept. When I feel you, I don't feel like ripping myself apart and taking the galaxy with me." His voice was hoarse now, rough with something raw. Desperation. Her heart was in her throat, and his desperation clawed at their chests.

How long have you felt this way?

The whole time. He growled. Every kriffing moment that this damnable bond has existed, you've been rattling around my skull and twisting everything. He tore his gaze from her furiously. What's worse, you seem to be unaffected beyond annoyance.

Her mouth fell open. Unaffected? He winced at the sudden increase in volume, especially since it was rattling around in his skull instead of permeating the room. Yes, it's bloody irritating to have to keep my eyes shut whenever I walk outside of the base just in case you try to skip through the periphery, He snorted. As if he would ever skip. But it's like I said earlier. I'd been alone for so long...even if you don't care about me, I can't deny that having you with me makes me feel calm. That even though I'm terrified of you, at least I'm not alone. That I have a place in all this, beyond scavenging scrap for quarter portions and waiting for people who will never come. I had disconnected myself from everyone—I couldn't trust any of them. And I don't trust you, but I can't hide from you either. When you're here, I don't feel cold, or lonely, or broken, or useless. I feel powerful, and I see my potential. It's just a shadow when you're blocked off. You make me raw where everything was numb. Your presence...I don't just want to survive, I want to thrive.

He was staring at her, unabashed, and she flushed furiously. She hadn't meant to say so much, and hadn't meant to tell him the depth of her attachment to their connection. But the bond had done that for her—her emotions resonating erratically between them. That...sounds astonishingly close to dark. Not quite, but— he broke off, contemplative. He didn't look pleased, either. He looked conflicted.

I thought that would please you. To hear that I'm edging closer to darkness. Isn't that what you wanted? She asked bitterly. His brow furrowed, but he didn't answer. His answer should be yes, but there was something perverse about the thought of her wielding the dark side of the force.

I need to go. He said abruptly, standing.

"Wait!" She cried aloud. She felt too raw—too vulnerable for him to cut her off now. He halted. Sorry. Go if you need to.

She felt his unease palpably, swimming in her skull. I need to figure something out. He told her stiffly. I can't let you see where I'm going. But like I said. I can't much stand to be apart from you for long.

She felt numb when he blocked her out. The bond had only gotten stronger since he advised her to cauterize her wound. They'd rarely talk aside from snide comments, but he was a flame when she felt numb and she was a balm when he felt raw. They'd only been blocking each other out of necessity.

After some time, she forced herself back into an uneasy sleep.


"You look like hell." Finn grunted a greeting over breakfast the next morning, sliding into the seat across from her with a tray of rations. She was picking at her own, eyelids heavy.

"Thanks." She grunted sarcastically.

"Relentless evil keeping you up late?" He asked, only somewhat snide. She shot him an irritated look.

"I had trouble sleeping."

"Planning to convert mass murderers to the light will do that."

"Stop patronizing me." She snapped, eyes flashing. "I get it, you think he's irredeemable. You keep on antagonizing me, you will be too."

He blanched. "I'm just trying to look out for you."

"I've been looking after myself since I was a child. I don't need for you to look out for me, I need you to support me. I'm not trying to bring him back—I don't even know if I can. But if I decide to pursue it, that's my choice." She told him coldly. "You can sit here if you don't bring up Kylo Ren."

"Fine." He growled, but he remained in place.

"Man, you two are loud." Poe muttered. "Luckily it's the ass crack of dawn and no one is awake to hear you talking about communicating with Kylo Ren."

Finn glanced at her expectantly. "Aren't you going to kick him off the table?" He demanded when all she did was roll her eyes.

"No. He hasn't been giving me grief for weeks for something I can't control. And, hasn't been mocking me for hoping that someone might be salvageable."

I'm not a piece of scrap metal you can pry off an Imperial Starship. Kylo Ren's voice curled into her mind, but she ignored him. You can't scrub me clean and trade me for sustenance.

Shut it.

Not what you said last night.

For fuck's sake!

"Well it's not like I'm fond of the guy. But between you and General Organa, you have enough hope to turn Snoke into a porg, so…" Poe shrugged and Rey smirked as Kylo Ren choked on a startled guffaw.

You think my friends are funny!

I think it's funny that you've managed to convince someone that Ben Solo still exists somewhere within me.

I think it's funny that you don't think that I was speaking to Ben Solo last night. She shot back. He scowled. Ben is stronger than I think you've realized. Maybe more than I've realized.

You're insane.

You've mentioned that. Or...maybe Finn mentioned that? Someone's certainly mentioned that. But I would never have asked Kylo Ren to stay.

Don't be ridiculous.

"Even if Snoke did turn into a porg, Kylo Ren still wiped out an entire planetary system."

"You've said that before, Finn." Rey uttered tiredly. "Do you have a new argument?" I'm not being ridiculous. You're entrenched in the dark side, but Kylo Ren makes me feel like tearing my skin off. Ben Solo makes me feel alive. I can tell the difference, even if you can't. Even if it's miniscule. You're in there, Ben. I don't know if I can pull you out, but I know you're there.

He's not there.

Yes, you are.

I swear on the entire galaxy, I'll shut you out.

You're the one who came back. He fell silent at that. I thought so.

Because I told you. He snorted. My first mistake.

First? Try millionth. She huffed.

Poe was studying her. She pursed her lips. You shouldn't have told them.

They're my friends.

You still shouldn't have told them.

"It's more than just feelings, isn't it." It wasn't a question. Poe's statement was quiet, and Rey's eyes darted to Finn, just to find him missing. "He left. He didn't have a new argument. He's over there." He jammed his thumb over his shoulder.

Rey worried her lip with her teeth. She could feel him in her mind, flitting on the other side of their bond, but he'd been momentarily distracted. "This bond, it's...strong. And growing stronger." Poe's eyes widened, concerned, but she shook her head. "He doesn't hurt me. We can block each other out. Most of the time, we don't talk. But we can. Talk, I mean. We talked last night. He's actually helped with my saber skills. The lightsaber cautery was his idea." She admitted. "We can feel each other. Not just emotions, but physical pain. It's like we're being drawn closer together, and the closer I get, the more human he becomes."

A tiny tug of disapproval. She ignored it.

"What if he uses the bond against you?" Poe asked.

"Until it's parasitic, it's symbiotic." Rey assured him. "And once it's parasitic, I'll keep my guard up. I'll start searching for ways to sever it, just in case."

A sharper tug of disapproval. She ignored that, too.

"I trust you." Poe assured her. "That doesn't mean I'm not worried."

She smiled softly at him. "I'll tell you if something's wrong. But so far, it's fairly benign. Well, as benign as having an enemy prowling around your head can be." She conceded. This time, the tug was a tug of amusement.

Symbiotic enemies. What a notion.

An enemy to the resistance, Ben. Not to me. She taunted.

You're insufferable.

Yet, you suffer me. She told him cheerily.

You may have a point about the symbiosis, though. He conceded, ignoring her self-satisfaction and clear delusions.

What do you mean?

I'm still researching. If it concerns you, I'll let you know.

Or you could let me know, and I'll decide if it concerns me.

I hope you choke on your breakfast.

I hope you choke on your attitude.

He went silent after that. For hours. She was accustomed to his mood swings by now, so she merrily made her way to the empty room that General Organa had made available for her training.

Her wounds had healed considerably in a short amount of time, her skin stitching itself together with a merciful swiftness that astounded her. She'd been injured plenty in her life. Her time as a scavenger was littered with near misses, particularly within the bellies of Star Destroyers. This, her deepest wound to date, had taken less time to heal than all of them.

She ignited the pale blue lightsaber, and immediately moved through her stances and drills. She lost herself in movement and sensation, feeling the Force thrumming around her. Hours later, she was dripping with sweat, and she folded herself into a sitting position with her legs crossed and eyes closed.

Meditation was paramount to mastering the Force, no matter what kind of practitioner you were. She'd given up on using meditation to push aside emotion. She was tethered to an emotional shock baton, so it was truly futile. Instead, she focused on connection—feeling everything in the room and the base beyond, and how the Force held it together. It flowed constantly, like a river or the wind, constantly shifting and thrumming and flashing and casting shadows. The reality of the Force in all things was a truth that she chased relentlessly. It was to be wielded, to be felt, to be revered.

What is that? He asked quietly.

What? She asked, exasperated. Can't I meditate in peace? I let you meditate in peace.

I felt something. Just there, when you extended yourself. You're not using Jedi meditation practices.

I'm not Jedi. She reminded him blandly.

But you were trained by one. He argued.

Can you go?

No. He insisted. There was something there. I've only felt that once, and I was still a padawan.

Peace?

No.

Um...Look, I really don't know…

Truth. Balance. He barked. All of the galaxy and what holds it together.

She paused, breathless. You've felt it before.

Long ago. He murmured thoughtfully.

They fell silent, and in the back of her mind she felt him fold his body into a seated position, legs crossed like hers. We're going to meditate together? She asked, something like fond amusement seeping into her voice.

Just for a moment. If you don't mind. It's been too long since I've meditated and felt anything akin to peace...or quiet. His voice was tinged with longing.

She said nothing else, simply closing her eyes. She stretched herself out, to feel that connection to the Force, and wasn't disappointed. It rose to meet her, thrumming in everything and filling her entirely. Cautiously, she tugged on her connection to him, pulling the threads that wove them together closer, and wrapping them in the currents that flowed around her.

He felt it then. A thrumming ebb and flow that lit the dark and cast shadows in the light—that wrapped itself around hearts and lungs and was instrumental in their palpations. It secured boulders to forest floors and held up trees as tall as the sky, weaving together everything and holding it together, while constantly moving itself. She felt him seep into it as soon as he felt it. It was a hot, burning feeling. He felt like a flood of fire, but he cooled within the currents and sighed in relief.

They stayed there longer than either of them intended, bathing in each other's presence and sharing passion, peace and connection. She tugged on the connection a long while later, not wanting to rip him out of something so delicate and good. He tugged back, though she could feel his reluctance crawling up her own skin.

The research I did earlier today. He spoke first. Ancient texts that I salvaged...that I keep hidden. They talk about the will of the Force, and the nature of the Balance between light and dark.

And what does it say?

There cannot be one without the other. And when there is too much of one, the Force will create what it needs to correct the imbalance. He cast his eyes down, fists clenched. For the first time, though, the frustration and rage were…normal. He wasn't flashing out of control. Instead of the malcontent of thousands, he held only the malcontent of one. It's not much, but...I think you are what the Force created to correct for me. There was an edge of bitterness. I don't understand why it decided to pursue it like this. Making me reliant on you instead of having you kill me.

It's like you said. She murmured, soft awe and realization creeping into her voice. There cannot be one without the other.

But you—He shook his head. All you do is pull me into the light.

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow. All you do is rip my nerves raw, tugging me into darkness. She sniffed. You don't think there's significance to that?

He frowned at her. Then, abruptly, he straightened. "What are you doing here?" He snapped.

"The Supreme Leader requires your presence." A haughty, nasal voice sneered from somewhere behind her. She whipped around, and could see everything. In front of her was a tall, pale, redheaded man with a glare brimming with hatred affixed to his unpleasant face.

"I'll be there shortly."

"Your failures have shortened your leash, Ren." Admiral Hux crowed. "He asked for you now, and you're to go to him immediately. He made himself clear."

Dread pooled in her stomach. Kylo Ren was resolutely not meeting her eyes. What she'd done to him...it had consequences.

Rey frowned, but he was gone. The air was empty around her, like the Force itself had left a hole where Ben—Kylo Ren— was supposed to be. She stood, shaking her head. He was refusing to see anything beyond what he'd been taught...no, brainwashed into, and she was too unlearned to see clearly. He had access to millenia of information, and she only had the Force itself, yet he was the one refusing to search. Refusing to see.

Her stomach growled ferociously and she looked down at it, frowning. She'd eaten so recently...hadn't she? Glancing at the monitor pad, her eyebrows shot up. She'd been in here for hours, just sitting with him. Still, it was remarkable how quickly the body became accustomed to having a proper amount of food. Regular meals were a luxury on Jakku and she'd known not to expect them. Now, her stomach was like a timer. It hailed her three times a day to remind her that she'd likely never be able to re-acclimate to Jakku or their predatory way of life. She could never truly go back. Not for long.

She traipsed out of the training room and walked straight into Finn and Poe, who'd been on their way to her. "You've almost missed lunch. It's not like you."

"I was meditating and lost track of time." She told them honestly. They started walking towards their ramshackle mess hall. Their accomodations were sparse. They'd opted to spend their limited funds on sustenance, firepower and machinery rather than shelter. She couldn't say she disagreed with the choice. "Ever since I left Luke, I've been searching for my own path." They nodded. They knew this. She'd mentioned her disappointment with the Jedi teachings. "I don't believe that the kind of Peace that the Jedi dictate exists. Detachment is this weird figment of their creation, and I don't know where it came from. Honestly, I wish I'd stayed longer just so that I could have read more of the ancient texts. All I can really do is meditate until I find something to point me in the right direction."

"And today…" Poe prompted.

"Today brought me closer." She admitted, a small smile tickling the corners of her mouth. "I've come to understand certain ineffable truths. Well...understand might be a stretch. But I know they're there."

"Like what?" Finn asked. She stared at him, nibbling her lip in thought and trying to find the best way to explain.

"What happens when you light a candle?" She asked. Her boys glanced at each other, eyebrows raised.

"You create light?" Poe guessed. She could tell that he thought the answer was stupid, but she nodded enthusiastically.

"You do! But what else?" They just stared at her, at a loss for words. "Picture a dark room. You light a candle. Maybe you light a hundred. What do you see?" She explained.

"Light flickering on the walls?" Poe tried again. She gestured for him to keep going. "A sort of orange tint…"

"And between the flickering light?"

"It casts shadows." Finn muttered suddenly. "The light can't reach every space. It casts shadows."

"Exactly."

"So light can't exist without dark, but dark can consume everything? Sounds depressing." Finn mumbled.

"There's more. When the sun goes down, what happens?" She asked them excitedly. Poe was staring at her like she was either brilliant and he hadn't seen it yet, or she was absolutely insane.

"It gets dark. Difficult to see." Finn played along, and Poe nodded, humoring her. Her eyes twinkled.

"And then?" They shrugged, clearly not following her. She chuckled. "Do it again. Pretend it's night, and that it just fell totally dark. What can you see when it's completely dark outside?"

Poe froze. "Stars."

She smiled brilliantly. "There are some kinds of light you can only see when it's dark. Light that's more pure, and untainted—natural and free."

"So you're saying—and correct me if I'm wrong—that you can't create light without creating dark, and even in the dark there's some light." She nodded, pleased that she'd explained herself.

"That's not entirely true though. You can create pure light, and you can be in literal total darkness."

"The point isn't that total light and total darkness are possible. The point is that those two polar opposites aren't desirable. It's imbalanced. The Jedi order is like locking yourself in a solitary white-walled room with an amplified arc light. The dark side—the Sith—is like turning all of your hatred and anger into this big stupid black box, throwing it into an abyss and sitting there forever."

Finn snorted. "I know which one I'd choose."

"Do you?" She asked. "Consider this...that light room. You're not allowed to form attachments to anyone. You're not allowed to love, or feel any sort of passion, or seek any sort of relief from the blinding white light all around you. You have to accept it and, for the most part, remain alone." His brow furrowed. "They put you in that room when you're a child, ideally. Before you can learn to love your parents, or hope for greatness. It's just you and that room until the day you die. The darkness...even though it's constraining, the walls aren't solid. You can connect to people outside those walls, and feel passion enough to fuel them. You can love someone enough to fear their loss with your entire soul. You can have expectations enough to feel pain when you're let down." She shook her head. "I've been alone all my life, but now that I have you two...I have you. And General Organa. And, to some degree, Luke. I would mourn you, if you died. You came back for me, and we've healed together. You're a part of me now, and the addition of you has made me to big for that white room."

Finn and Poe blushed awkwardly, casting their eyes down and away respectively with matching affectionate smiles. "Yeah, so no Jedi Order for you." Poe stated gruffly. "You're stuck with us."

They sat there for a moment, smiling at each other affectionately as her two dearest friends absorbed her words.

"So…" Finn started slowly. She turned to him. "Your meditations are seeking...what exactly? It sounds like you already know your path."

She pursed her lips. "Sort of. It's a little abstract. It's treacherous, you know? I...before I go further, I want to know how to keep myself from slipping. In either direction. The dark is seductive, after all. I've seen it for myself. In abandoning all darkness and seeking only peace, the Jedi created a code. The Sith created one in response, espousing darkness. I want to create one for myself." She bit her lip, knowing that what came next could displease her friends. "And for him. For Kylo Ren."

Finn dropped his forehead to the table with a hard smack. "What the f—"

"He thinks—and he told me this—that the Force creates what it needs to maintain balance." She told him quickly, slightly worried for his forehead. She felt a violent yank on their bond. He didn't want her to tell them what he'd said. She sent him something back—a small flutter of reassurance—before closing their connection with (if it had been a door) a gentle click.

"So he's dark and you're light?" Poe guessed. "Doesn't that seem a little...um…"

"Patricidal maniac justification-like?" Finn grunted.

"I was going to say...obvious. Or simplistic. I was deciding which one made more sense when he interrupted me." Poe smiled.

"It does. And I don't think he can stay where he is on theoretical spectrum if this is going to work. That's why I've been hoping so hard that he's still got more Ben Solo in him."

Poe nodded, comprehension slowly washing over him. "Well I honestly don't know. He's...I don't know. I a little unhinged. But if you find it, I'll trust you. And help you. Obviously."

Finn glanced between them, and smacked his head down on the table once more. "We're all gonna die."