A/N: A big thanks to Biekewieke and SirenBanshee for being two wonderful, lovely beta's. You're making the story much, much better!
I'm always happy to receive comments; and if you think of a tag/warning I need to add, don't hesitate to let me know!
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He knew there was nothing left to do but wait for the inevitable. Rey didn't block the bond like she did before, but she didn't allow him any contact either. Kylo was unsure of how to feel about that. Hadn't he faced his mother for her?
He growled. No! He faced his mother to rid himself of his past, to grow stronger. She had nothing to do with it. Still, her refusal to talk to him filled him with a certain kind of restlessness. A type of restlessness that wouldn't go away, no matter how much he trained and sparred.
His plans for the First Order, however, were coming along nicely. The scouts were still unable to find any trace of the Resistance, but really, with so few of them left and Rey untrained, how much of a threat could they be?
The troops had been visited and the Knights reassigned. All the crews now knew who he was; they knew to fear him and his saber. A pleased smirk graced his face as he remembered some of the attempts at uprising he had quelled. Yes, he had set quite a few examples. He had struck fear and respect into the bodies and minds of his generals. They knew better than to try and oppose him now.
Which left only Hux. Returning to the almost repaired Supremacy, he could not help imagining all the things he could do to the man. Swiftly walking to the main hangar of the Destroyer, he noticed two patrolling Troopers trying to hide their flinch while giving him a wide berth. It pleased Kylo to no end.
Leaving Hux behind on their primary ship to oversee the reparations had been a risk. As protocol described, the man was waiting with Phasma and a platoon of Troopers when Kylo's shuttle landed. Although the man was nothing but polite and correct, something about him radiated glee, causing Kylo to tense.
"Dismissed," he ordered. "Except you, Hux."
The man stiffened but inclined his head. Kylo circled him, slowly, deliberately, revelling in the tenseness that seeped into the man's posture.
"Tell me, Hux," he drew out the name, "how has the rebuild been going?"
"As planned, sir."
He started toying with the hilt of his saber, twirling it this way and that, making sure the men saw it.
"Anything else?"
"No, sir."
"Then you have served your purpose, don't you think?"
He ignited his saber and grinned as Hux practically jumped out of his skin with fright. Swiftly turning, he strode away from the landing dock and towards his chambers. He would leave the man be for a couple of days, see what he had up his sleeve, before giving him what he deserved.
It took only two days before Hux showed his cards and tried to kill Kylo with the help of some of his followers. A small battle ensued where Kylo cut through the defected Troopers as if they were butter. He enjoyed it every second of it.
Kylo gloated when he had Hux strapped to a chair. The man tried to remain stoic at his arrest, showing pride and defiance. However, once it became clear where exactly they were taking him, he had paled and started shivering. Having the ginger at his mercy made Kylo feel powerful.
Torturing the man became his primary outlet for the frustration and anger he carried around. It was a joy to delve into Hux's mind and plant horrors and nightmares in it; tweaking the man's greatest fears and playing with them, making him feel physical pain that wasn't really there. Perhaps, when he broke down completely, Kylo could make him serve again, build him up like a puppet.
It was during one of his torture sessions that the inevitable finally happened. A lurch disturbed the Force, followed by the feeling of a massive, raw, gaping hole, the wailing of grief surrounding it.
Kylo froze. Turmoil reigned in his head and heart. He had expected to feel relieved, but now he felt confused, pained, torn. Then, he was bludgeoned by a myriad of emotions that weren't his, causing him to stagger. Rey…
Forgetting about Hux, he turned and strode off to the privacy of his chambers. He found her there, curled up against a wall, as if the Force had known he was coming and projected her there instead of in his presence. She was sobbing uncontrollably, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. It pained him to see her like that.
"Rey," he whispered.
She didn't acknowledge him. He wasn't even sure she'd heard him. Carefully, he lowered himself to the ground next to her.
"Rey," he said again.
She startled slightly but didn't respond in any way. Kylo was at a loss. He wanted to comfort her, wanted to make her stop crying, but didn't know how. He reached up to touch her elbow, but stopped halfway, staring at his gloves.
No, he would not touch her with the same gloves he had just used to torture Hux. He would not defile her by connecting the two. She was too pure for that. With angry, abrupt movements, he tore off his gloves and tossed them away.
"Rey," he once more said. She hiccuped as his fingers finally, lightly, caressed her arm.
"She died," Rey stuttered. "I'm so sorry, Ben; your mother died. Leia died." Her sobbing recommenced.
"I know," Kylo answered, leaning his head against the wall. "I felt it. I felt the disturbance in the Force."
"Everybody leaves me. They always leave me. My parents, Han, Leia, Finn, Poe—they all leave me behind."
Kylo's curiosity peaked. "The pilot and the traitor?"
"They're … not here."
"Ah." He didn't dare comment on it further. He reached for her arm again, wanting to somehow reassure her of his presence. "I won't leave you." Kylo wondered where those words had come from but knew them to be true. He would never leave her. If only she could see that. If only she would join him.
Rey snorted. "That's because you can't!"
She looked up at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face blotchy. Still, he thought she looked beautiful.
"You only stay because you can't leave. You don't want to be here!" Her voice grew louder with every word. "I'm sure that if you could rid yourself of our bond, you would do it without hesitation. You would leave me behind, just like the rest of them!"
He blinked at her vehemence. Did she really believe that?
"No," he answered. "No, I would not."
Why did she believe he would abandon her? He promised her the world. She was the one to turn it down. It didn't make any sense. How? How could he make her understand, truly understand, that he would not leave her? He wanted her by his side.
"You're lying!"
"I am not."
He did not know what to do. He hated feeling this helpless, this clueless. It made him want to rage, but the rage never came. He just felt sad, confused, uncertain. That, too, didn't make any sense.
"How can you be so calm?" Rey suddenly shouted at him, her eyes sparkling.
"I don't know," he answered truthfully. Nothing made sense anymore, not with her.
She stared at him. He could see her sudden bout of rage crumble around her. Fresh tears started spilling from her eyes.
"I am all alone."
"You are not."
It felt like an echo. A story and a reassurance, given what felt like a lifetime ago. Without really thinking about it, he pulled at her arm and grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers.
"You are not," he repeated.
As if the contact strengthened their bond, more of her emotions flowed into him. How one person could feel so much without breaking apart was a mystery to him. It left him breathless, panting, feeling like he was going to drown and forever disappear into his own mind.
Her small hand squeezed his and he felt the worst of the storm subside. He felt like he could breathe again, but the pain and turmoil remained. The Force flowed around them as they derived strength from each other's company.
Kylo grieved his mother, even though he knew he should simply toss it aside as a useless part of his past. With Rey by his side, he also found the strength to mourn his father. Kylo realised he could not follow the teachings of the Dark when it came to the death of his parents, and it greatly disturbed him. He wondered what was becoming of him. He wondered if he had made a mistake by killing Snoke. The life he had now—was that really what he wanted?