When he first woke, he didn't remember where he was. Then, he saw her sitting on the opposite side of the room. Everything came flooding back and his face flushed with embarrassment. What were the odds that they would end up in this place? Well, he suspected that odds had nothing to do with their situation. Rey was dead asleep, head against the wall. She was so captivating in her vulnerable state. Gods, he prayed there was another way for their story to end than fighting to the death. Surely, he would let her strike him down. Carefully, he took a blanket and draped it over her.

He stretched as stepped from the hut, feeling refreshed from sleep for the first time in a long time. He had to admit that getting away from The First Order for even a short period of time had been restorative to his energy, but the storm within him raged on. He came here to quiet that storm. To renew his direction. So far, he had only gotten a few hours of sleep and found himself in an impossible situation.

He took a deep breath. The air was salty, reminding him of a recent battle which ended with him kneeling at Rey's feet. She was certainly not something he was counting on this trip. A feeling of dread washed over him. How could they both get through this conflict alive? At that moment, he resolved to leave this planet as soon as he got the answers he had come for. He couldn't let whatever this was grow anymore. It was corrupting him.

He quieted his mind to the best degree that he could. Soon, he heard dark voices calling for him. He followed them to a cave beneath ruins of what he assumed was a Jedi temple. He was surprised to find what must have been Rey's A-wing parked there. She was quite clever. Before he was a hole that he knew led to the place that would give him what he needed. It was filled with water, but the voices beckoned him urgently. Kylo Ren stripped to his underclothes, and dove in.

When he surfaced, gasping for air, he realized that he recognized this place. Rey had been here searching for answers of her own. Slowly, reverently, he crept towards the obsidian wall.

"Show me" he whispered.

The reflection of himself turned into an image of him fighting off faceless assailants in a show of raw rage. Behind him, a smaller figure yielding a green lightsaber cuts down enemies to his back.

She rose to be your equal, the darkness hisses.

The vision shows her, unrestrained and raw, fighting for her life, his life. She's protecting him. She's deadly and powerful. Beautiful in the way a storm is over the ocean.

No more Sith, no more Jedi,

This image dissipates and another form. Again, they are standing back to back in a defensive stance. They are in the middle of a battle about to begin. His image is facing lines and lines of stormtroopers, while she is facing rows of Resistance fighters. His face is contorted into a snarl, while hers is hard but calm.

Two sides of the same coin,

Another image forms. At first, he thinks the vision is over, but his reflection dons a black cloak. An image of Rey approaches and takes the hand of his reflection. They share a look of affection.

Ashla and Bogan,

Kylo Ren falls to his knees as the vision figures share a kiss and blow away like sand.

Balance

The dust settles and Kylo now only saw his awed expression reflected in the obsidian. He catches his breath. He had been holding it and hadn't realized it.

After a moment, he jumps to his feet and hurries to the surface. He hastily threw his clothes back on, and he ran to her as if she might have disappeared. It's storming now. The rain and his hair obscured his vision, but he didn't care. He needed to see her. He came upon the hut and stopped suddenly in the doorway. He hadn't considered what he would actually say to her.

Lightning illuminated his silhouette.

"Ben?"

She sat on the stool her left her in, reclining on the wall with another stool propping up her feet. His cape was covering her legs like a blanket and there was a book in her lap. She closed the book and slowly placed it in her pack, sitting straight up again.

"What are you doing?" she asked him, a questioning expression on her face.

His gaze was intense and soft, but otherwise impossible to read- true to fashion. His long, dark hair laid in wet tendrils around his face. He was soaked to the bone, chest heaving.

"Ben, come in out of the rain…", she ordered, still looking puzzled.

He sat on the stool where her feet were and just looked at her. She met his gaze, a concerned look crinkling her brow. Gods, where to begin. "I went to the Temple."

She stiffened, warning bells sounding off in her head.

"Please," he said gently, "It's not the way you think. I'm not going to hurt you."

"What did you see?" her voice barely a whisper.

"Truthfully, I saw you."

She looked at him with wide eyes, surprised. His gaze was soft, conflicted, but honest, nearly pleading with her though he's asked for nothing. The storm outside seems to be churning in his bones, she thought.

"You're not alone, Ben."

"No," he said with a bit of surprise in his voice. "Neither are you."

This time, he took his glove off and reached his hand toward her first. After a moment of hesitation, she reached out as well. Slowly, their fingertips came together. The bond within them hummed. It was like they were exchanging pure energy. Dangerous and enticing. Calloused fingers slid over calloused fingers, over each other's palms, down the other's muscled arms until Ben could hook his long fingers around her elbow. They both closed their eyes, relishing in the feeling of touch. Neither of them had experienced contact like his. There were emotions there too. Longing. Need. Joy. Contentment. There was some fear there too.

Uncertainly, Ben leaned down and kissed her so lightly that it might have been his breath on her lips. Her eyes opened in something that wasn't quite surprise. His eyes plead with her once again, and she closed her eyes in answer. His breath caught in his throat. He met her lips again, softly but fully.

She stood up from her stool and let go of him, breaking the kiss. Her eyes were filled with conflict, pain, and fear. She met his gaze. Gods, he was always so intense. He stayed seated, looking at her with sad and puzzled eyes.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked gently.

"No, no of course not. This is just… I don't know….", tears stung her eyes.

Carefully, he reached up and gently tucked a stray hair behind her ear. She didn't recoil. He reached his hands toward her in invitation. Slowly, she took them. He gently rubbed his thumbs against the backs of her hands, every motion careful and deliberate like she might slip away from him at any moment.

"You're afraid," he whispered reassuringly. "I feel it too."

This time, her lips found his.