"I thought you were no longer allied with the Resistance," he says suddenly. He tilts his head to the right, looking back towards the door, and frowns, snarling slightly. He becomes very still, as though listening for a faraway sound. The muscles in his temples begin to pulse. Her thigh feels oddly warm.
"I'm not," she tells him.
"Then why," he hisses, and then turns back to stare at her, his fingers flexing, "is this system crawling with Resistance fighters?"
Rey shuffles in the chair and attempts to stand straighter, to focus and listen, to feel any shift or change in the Force. She feels nothing but the Dark emanating from him, oscillating around the room, the energy so tangible it seems to be shuddering against her lips.
"I don't know," she answers. He looks at her sceptically for a moment, and then suddenly turns back. His cloak twirls behind him and sends a little breath of chilly air into her face, drying the blood under her nose and cooling her sweat. He puts his helmet on. He clips her lightsaber onto his belt.
It is then that she feels General Organa through the Force, as though she is pulling tension on tiny threads in Rey's chest. She gasps. She will be saved – the relief hits her and refreshes her, as though dipping her sore, hot foot into a cold well of water after a long day roaming the desert.
"I won't be taking any chances with you, this time," he says, and his voice again is mechanical and distorted. He approaches her again and holds his hand carefully in front of her face. She notices he is trembling slightly. "We are not finished yet, but I can't afford to let anyone else guard you, can I, after that little trick you pulled last time?"
She struggles.
"I will put you to sleep. You will be sedated by a medical droid every two hours until this is over."
"Until what's over?" she begs. "Please –"
He focuses again on that mysterious, heavy, dreamless sleep, and slides it into her, neatly as a blade into the flesh of a ripe fruit. She slumps in the chair. The door clicks open and the droid rolls in with a syringe of clear fluid in its small metal arm. It pauses, assesses, and he waits.
"Permission to alter posture of the prisoner, from supine to prone, sir," it requests. "Sedative to be administered into the gluteal muscle rather than deltoid."
"Granted," he says. The droid removes her restraints – and he can feel her straining to wake so he holds her tighter in that empty sleep– and turns her carefully, pulling her head to the side to aid breathing as it slips her unto her stomach. The restraints close atop her. The droid then drags the clothing of her lower half downwards slightly, positioning the needle, and just before he leaves he sees a little square of the supple, sunny flesh of the small of her back.
Mother, he thinks, he is terrified. He feels Leia Organa in the Force, and it feels just like her kiss did on his forehead, tender and wombing. He knows she is here because she has felt his fear, and he thinks of her kiss and he thinks of her gently waking him from nightmares when he was a boy. She is here for that exact same reason, he realises, because she thinks he is about to wake from a nightmare.
But it is her nightmare, not his.
He steps over two bodies, splayed over the floor. One of the Resistance fighters (and he thinks it is likely Leia Organa herself) has obviously infiltrated the base. He will not go out to the battlefield if it can be avoided – he is exhausted from harnessing the girl, exhausted from feeling her thoughts, exhausted from sharing her pain. He hopes she forgets seeing that ocean in his mind after all of the sedation. He doesn't quite know what it all means, but he knows it isn't something he should encourage within himself.
Leia Organa is attempting to conceal herself. He can just about feel her, like the soft brush of long grass against his skin, barely there. He needs her to reveal herself. He stops hunting her, and decides he will allow himself to be hunted for now. He knows she will always chase a certain kind of bait, after all, just like Han Solo did – she will always chase Ben Solo, she will always hunt Ben Solo, she is aching and starving for Ben Solo.
Mother, he sends out, feeling it ripple and widen into the Force. Mother, I'm here.
He doesn't feel anything.
Mother, he pressures into the Force, Mother, I am afraid. I can feel you. I'm so glad to be close to you again. Mother, I'm here.
He tries to bleed the child within him then, he tries to remember something to ignite her senses and make her search. He pauses for a moment, to think, and then he considers something. He thinks of their last tearful conversation as Mother and son, discussing his leaving to begin training as a Jedi. He knows it will hurt her and fill her with desperation.
I'm going to feel so sad when you fly away, he pushes out, remembering his exact words.
He feels a coil begin to unravel, and he knows that she is chasing, she has taken the bait, she is on the hunt. He smiles.
Rey wakes to see Leia in front of her, with her eyes wide and staring into hers. They are the kind of full, warm dark eyes that reflect light – and now they are full of tears, so they gleam almost gold.
"Rey," Leia whispers, and Rey blinks erratically, trying to recall how she came to be here. She notices in a sickly moment of dark surprise that the clothing on her lower half has been pulled down to her thighs, and that her skin is exposed and prickling in the cold.
"Why are my – where are my –" She stutters, and hurriedly yanks them up back over her hips. The upper left part of her buttocks is very tender, almost feels swollen. "What's happened to me?" she asks in horror, her breath quickening. Leia squeezes her shoulder.
"Sedative," she says, and gestures to a droid on the floor. It now has no anterior or head. The electronic, metal innards of it fizzle and spark white. She sees, from what is left of its cracked arm, it had been holding a syringe.
"What –"
"You've been without it for about half an hour now," Leia tells her calmly, and continues patting her, affirming, "you're going to be alright. We're getting you out of here."
Rey feels her knees quaking and chokes a little.
"It's alright," Leia tells her again, and Rey wonders vaguely why she is so tearful.
"Where is Kylo Ren?" Rey breathes, "where are the others? Are they –"
"One step at a time, Rey," Leia tells her. Rey notices the blaster in Leia's hand and a shock of exhilaration hits her. Despite it being a useless effort, she could not deny that she loved fighting, and blasters were raw and exact.
"We need to go," she says, and suddenly attempts to stand. Her muscles are somewhat numb, particularly her calves, but she nonetheless pushes up with the tiny pang of strength she has left. Leia supports her by looping her arm around her shoulders.
"Are you sure you can run? We're going to need to run soon, Rey. We do have time –"
"Please, let's just get out of here," Rey insists, and smiles weakly at Leia. "Thank you, General, for –"
"One step at a time," Leia says firmly, and again knowingly squeezes her hand once. They start to move. Rey feels queasy to the point it is near debilitating, but she swallows hard and continues on. The place is a labyrinth but somehow Leia knows where to go, and so Rey walks without thinking. But then she does think, and she manages to mutter, "Why are you crying?"
Leia is crying now, and crying hard, too. The tears roll over her in silence, her eyes burn gold with pain, and her face is empty. She doesn't answer.
Leia can still almost feel his little heart inside of her breaking, and it hurts so much to leave him, when he is crying to her, when he needs her, when he is so close. But Poe is right. Han made the mistake of trusting him too much. She knows, from those deeper feelings, from that deeper maternal knowledge, that he is calling, but it is not a call to his Mother.
It is a call to war.
Where are you going, Mother? He sends out to her, feeling the gulf between them widening.
But he is not answered. He grunts and unsheathes his lightsaber. Leia Organa is wiser than Han Solo, he thinks, and he regrets underestimating her. He stalks back towards the east of the building, the dread dawning on him. He calls out to the girl, through the Force, for the first time.
Within it she is like a tightly closed flower bud, velvety, full of potential.
We're not done yet, he tells her.
Beside Leia, Rey shrieks.
"Rey?" Leia gasps, grappling her arms and pulling her back to her feet. They are almost aboard Poe Dameron's Interceptor.
The red sands swirl around Rey's face, slashing her hair over her cheeks. Her eyes are wide, and she stares at Leia's face in terror. "He's in my head," she whispers, shuddering, "I can hear him talking to me."
How can you escape, now, Rey?
Rey makes a pained, guttural noise. Leia and Poe share a knowing, uncomfortable glance at each other, and then Leia leans forward and carefully, powerfully, thrusts Rey's weight into Poe's arms. He catches her and helps her climb inside.
You're not escaping.
Rey squirms, and Poe holds her still. "Hey, c'mon, it's alright, Rey." He tries to set her down on the medical bed, but she pushes back on her heels.
"Please – I can't sleep. I won't sleep like this!" She insists.
You can't escape any more. Not now.
She doesn't understand, but she somehow knows what he is saying is true.
A/N: Again, thanks so much for such a great response. It really means so much! Hope everyone enjoyed this and let me know what you think!