14. Dark Blossoms

It was curiosity that encouraged Poe to sit in the hold, watching the monster sleep. But, in all honesty, he wasn't sure he was looking at a monster. It was…strange, something he hoped he wouldn't have to explain to Finn or Leia (for they would be the first to ask). He had every intention to slip away before Kylo Ren woke, but his plans were interrupted.

"Do you know what you've done?" rumbled the cross beast from his prison.

"We've finally captured you."

"No, I mean to her. Do you know what you've done?"

"We let her do what she wanted. She asked us to take you in place of her and let her sabotage whatever plan Snoke was concocting."

Kylo Ren heaved an enormous sigh. "Stupid girl. She's going to get herself killed thanks to you not forcing her to stay."

"And she'd have been better off with you?"

"Yes!" It came out too powerfully and Poe watched as Kylo Ren's face curled into anguish, realizing the mistake of his outburst. "I've been protecting her; I don't want her harmed either."

"For your own gain?"

"For her own sake." He reached out to stroke the neck of the vornskr beside him. "Monsters can have feelings too."

Poe crouched down, starting to put jagged pieces back together. "You've changed, Ben."

Kylo Ren didn't growl or lash at the name, opting to sigh wearily. "I've been influenced."

"You let her go."

"She was never mine."

His black mood was crushing even without reinforcement through the Force. Poe rose, not wanting to be choked out by the thick misery.

"If you…" Kylo Ren's words were meek, his voice small. The contrast to his usual demeanor was unsettling. "If you have any say, bring her back. She's not going to survive alone and you need her." A pause. A long breath. "She's more important to the galaxy than you know."

Poe needed to leave the hold before any more pity crept up his spine. It was bizarre—beyond bizarre—to see the man who tried to kill him a month prior dissolved into a puddle of fear and worry, sick with grief for someone else. He had to clear his head.

"You look like you've gone into shock," Finn said when Poe lowered himself into the pilot's chair, head in his hands.

"I don't know who that is."

"Are you—it's Kylo Ren. You know, scary, evil, always wears black."

"He's not the man who tortured me, and he's not my childhood best friend. Finn, I do not know that man."

Finn sucked in a breath, busying his hands to ease the discomfort. "Just don't tell the General that's what you think, yeah?"

He could make no promises.

Somewhere, out in that strange sandy field, the plant had spread itself high to the star line.

Ren had been careful about touching it, how much water it got, how many hours of sunlight could grace its delicate face. But something had gone wrong somewhere down the line. He hadn't paid attention, perhaps, or he'd given it too much care. Its face looked nothing like how he'd pictured it, no mosaic of pinks and whites, no speckles and dots of color. It was dark, dark as charred wood. Such a dark red it was almost black. It was beautiful, certainly, but something had gone wrong.

His stomach lurched, horrified with the outcome. He never wished anything so sinister to befall her.

When he turned away from its sickening beauty, it bled rosy, its face crying to the moon.

He hurried off to another section of dreams.

They sat across from each other in a dark space. Well, not dark—they were clearly lit, their faces and bodies bathed in light—but it was black all around, from the floor to the ceiling to the realm beyond. Like nothingness.

Rey had her knees curled to her chest, arms wrapped steadily around. He was spread out and disinclined to gaze up on her.

"What's his name?"

"Whose name?"

"The vornskr keeping me company. You have Meridian with you."

He did. He had the girl beast—she was asleep at his side somewhere in the waking world away from this dream. The animal had fought harshly to be kept with him; he'd been alerted to that by the reluctant thought fragments that trickled soundlessly from the crewmembers. Not from Dameron, though—he hadn't been bothered by the creature. He'd defended Rey's newest morality pet.

"It's okay if you didn't name him," she said after a long pause.

"Dal."

"Pardon?"

He looked up, finally, into her face, memorizing the look of fear and regret in her eyes. She missed him, she was nervous for him—she wasn't sure she'd be coming back alive.

"Dal, after a red giant in the Mid Rim. A name fit to reflect the brightness of a foolish girl's brilliant smile."

She hid her face too slowly for him to miss the blush on her cheeks. "I think they're mates, Kylo. I think we separated them."

"Perhaps they thought we were like them."

"Aren't we, though, in a way?"

"I don't think so, not after this stunt you're pulling." Dammit. He needed to curb his anger around her before he hurt her in a permanent way.

"Oh." She shifted slowly, running a hand through her loose hair. "I think I want to try kissing you again, though."

"You…" Did she mean that? Could she mean that? "You want to kiss me?"

"I might. I don't know."

"We could…if you wanted to try in a dream…it wouldn't be impossible to…"

He lost his train of thought when she moved closer, lost his idea of self when she traced across his cheekbone with a thumb. She looked unsure of herself but she pressed onward, fingers following backwards into his hair and he rose on his own accord to meet her midway. Chaste, simple, soft, little more than a fluttering touch. He parted to breathe against her forehead, knowing a second longer would awaken the hungry beast he'd been taming at night with his guilt-ridden hands.

"I don't think you're a monster," she admitted mostly to herself as she began to wake, "not anymore."

"You've changed me," he said softly to dead air. Her heat lingered on his cheeks when he stirred into the world.

Lando's ship landed on time in the airfield outside the D'Qar base. The crew greeting them was as small as possible—Leia had been given word about the rescue situation. She and Luke had thought it best as few people as possible learned of the vessel's more precious cargo.

Her heart hammered thoroughly against her ribs, blood rushing at a dizzying rate. She was iron willed when it came to everything, but not…this. She couldn't know what to expect, how to act. It had been thirteen years since Luke had last seen her son, fifteen since he'd been home. There was no way to prepare.

He was not cloaked in black, nor was he masked. The man towering over Finn and Poe on the gangway was an inky, haughtier version of Han. His clothes were slim cut—not that it mattered, as the boy was so broad in the chest, Force, when had he grown into a man?—and his hair was wild and matted. Dark eyes betrayed his nervousness and she watches his emotions flicker like a play across his face.

Oh, and that scar.

It ripped across her son's face, red-violet and angry. A burn from a lightsaber—a mark Rey must have branded into his skin. It split him in half, but somehow did not make him seem darker, only more sullen—pitiful, in a way.

Their eyes met fully and for a split second she thought he was on the verge of tears.

They led him close enough to her that he seemed real; this all seemed real. She hardly noticed the lizard shifting about on her shoulders. It hissed when a coal-coated mutt snapped its jaws in a warning, taking easily and readily to his side.

She took a deep breath.

"Hello, Ben."

"Your hooligans have sentenced her to death."

"My hooligans." Leia turned to the party holding the bull by his nose. "You can leave us, boys."

Finn recoiled while Poe's face grew concerned. "He's dangerous, General."

"I can handle my own son."

She waited for the snide remark out of his mouth, the vicious quip about Han, but it never came. Instead, her boy glared down at his feet, preoccupied with his bootlaces.

When the company disbanded, she sighed. "You haven't shown concern for another person since—"

"Since when? Since you last saw me? For fifteen years, you think I haven't given a damn about another human being?"

"Not really, no."

He scowled, teeth curling from his lips. Then, surprisingly, his expression softened. "You're right, then. It's been a long, long time."

It was the way his head moved, the slight shift in his eyes that gave him away. There were quirks left over from her happy little boy, silent expressions of guilt and fear he'd done his best to hide as a child. Not well enough because here he was, nearly twenty-nine, making silent admissions to his mother through the lack of expression.

"You do, don't know?"

Cryptic for any other family, crystal clear for theirs.

"Say it," he murmured. "Tell me I'm too much of a monster to. Out loud. Say what we're both thinking. I don't deserve to even look at her."

His Force signature was strong. Choking even with the ysalamir wrapped around her neck. And it was…wallowing. So much pent-up hatred licked around him, but it wasn't for her, or for the Resistance. Not even for Poe as he looked warily on from several hundred meters away. He was injured in a way that wasn't physical, bleeding in places other than his skin. She'd come to the landing pad with hellfire in her lungs ready to scream at the monstrous shell of her son, but it had vanished, run off somewhere she couldn't follow. The monster was hidden deep, the outside almost soft.

"What happened, when you kept that girl for all these months?"

"I don't know. Nothing seems real anymore." He sighed and reached down to the beast whose head came easily to his waist. "Dad says hi."

Leia faltered. He hadn't called Han his father since…

"He's come to speak to me in a dream or two. Most of them have." Her son looked up, his eyes wet. His whole body was betraying his stony persona.

"I can't forgive the sins you've committed."

"I can't forgive myself either. I'm not asking you to."

"Then what do you want?" It came out harsher than she wanted but it was still too soft. It was difficult, being a parent.

"I want her safe. I don't care what you do with me. Torture me, try me, kill me—whatever you see fit, as long as she survives."

She looked him over, this broken boy parading around with her son's face. He wasn't the creature in the mask, she hoped, not anymore. If he'd said anything else, she would have taken his sincerity as false, but this was selfless. He had nothing to gain and everything to lose.

"I think there's still hope for you."

"Don't speak too quickly; she's been the only thing keeping me in check."

• • •

They locked him in a room of lizards for the time being. A precaution, Leia said as they shut the door on her son, his eyes wide with curiosity and hurt. They couldn't get the vornskr to leave him and since no one wanted to sacrifice a hand, they were going to have to let the beast stay.

Meridian, he'd said softly, wait outside. No biting.

And it had obeyed, much to Leia's surprise.

"All right, we've made a huge tactical risk," she started when the company had gathered in a small conference room, "now what do we do?"

"Keep him locked up." Finn's eyes were hard, his expression dark. "I've seen the…things he's thinking. Letting him out is inviting a mistake."

She caught Poe's eyes narrow, but he didn't speak.

"Has anyone seen his face?" Luke's hands were folded in front of him. "He'll be a bigger target if he's recognized, but he hasn't gone without that mask in years."

"I don't think so. No one outside of this room knows who we brought back."

"And the ysalamiri will keep him from lashing as long as he's in their presence. How did he seem when you spoke to him?"

"Tired." Leia sighed, chin in her hands. "Different. Not what I was expecting. Poe, you're either going to speak up now or I'm going to drag it out of you."

The pilot flinched. "I don't think he's going to try to sabotage us."

Eyes turned pointed stares in his direction.

"You've seen him, General. He's not bellicose."

"But he's not placated either."

"He's angry, I think. Unhappy. Defeated. But not bloodthirsty."

"That scar is going to raise questions, and his height." She straightened up. "He even looks like Han."

Poe nodded. "I want to talk to him."

The Finalizer felt hollow when her boots hit the metal of the hanger floor. It was strange to be here alone, to have them trust her. Rey changed before she landed and now her strides mimicked Kylo's, a thick black cloak flitting against the backs of her calves. She gave Phasma a steely glare before plowing forward, her business with the asshole general at the hanger doors.

"You weren't kidding," Hux said through gritted teeth.

"Why would I joke about that?" Her steps clicked angrily next to his. "Is the Supreme Leader aware of my arrival?"

"Yes."

She nodded once. "Good."

A black envelope had fallen around her shoulders. The presence of the Dark side was thick and stifling, heavier than she'd ever felt it before. They let her walk freely through the ship, troopers moving out of her way as she passed. She may not have had a physical mask, but her face had turned to stone after she'd woken up. Now was no time for fretting, no time for feelings.

She knelt in the chamber, waiting for the holo to flicker on before rising from her knees. Darkness asked entry to her body and she permitted its nestling into her bones.

"You've lost my apprentice," Snoke said slowly.

"He dropped his guard, there was little to be done without also being captured or killed."

His eyes followed her. "And were you successful in your collection?"

"Yes." She breathed in the fumes of a poisonous choice. "I have the information you seek."

Snoke was thoughtful a moment before steepling his hands. "The boy was growing careless. I believe you are more promising than he could have ever been."

"I'm flattered, Supreme Leader."

Oh, her head was rolling. He wasn't kidding—Kylo had been preventing a lot of fallout from dragging on her consciousness. Why, though? This power was so enticing. It crept down her fingers, settled into her soles.

"Are you prepared to carry on in his place?"

"Yes."

• • •

Meditation was long, boring, and drawn-out. Light tried to pick its way into her bubble and she hissed, fending it off. Not now, not today. She was pleased with the direction she was going, it could shut up and stop harassing her for one Force-forsaken day, couldn't it?

She was swimming in darkness, but she wouldn't consider it a hell. It was cool in a pleasant way, aiding her thoughts and questioning ideas. Some things grew clear—like her objectives, what she had to do now that she was back—and others were cloudy—like Kylo, like Finn, like the Resistance.

Kylo Ren, fallen knight extraordinaire. An ever flip-flopping indecisive thorn in the side of whomever he decided to aid that week. The thought of his name grated against her brain.

A few hours ago you were humming a different tune, a sullen voice reminds her. A few hours ago, she was another person. A few hours ago, life wasn't clear.

A few hours ago, she wanted to touch him.

Something broke inside.

Rey rested her head against the leg of her bed. This was all happening too quickly. She hadn't known a thing about how he felt over the bond, and the next she was drowning in his emotions. He was afraid, genuinely afraid, both for her and himself. He was nervous but angry the way a wounded animal was when cornered. He was concerned with her safety, with making sure she got out okay, alive, back to people who would take care of her if he couldn't. He didn't give a shit about this apprentice thing, not anymore, not if she were at risk. And he cared about her—deeply, fully—in a way that was making him break. He'd come so close to stumbling out three words he never wanted her to know, but he caught himself.

And all she did was spit in his face and pry his fingers from the ledge.

He was healing so nicely and she reopened the wound.

The Force came to take her and she was drifting into a dream, her back against the walls of a cold stone cave. The star-eyed child sat in her lap, cowering from the winds wailing outside. She stroked his hair, feeling the galaxy run through her fingers.

"I'm sorry I keep hurting you," she said softly into his curls.

"It's okay. Everyone always has."

Oh, no, no, sweet child. No, that didn't make it okay.

"No. I promise to stop." She meant it.

"You don't need to be nice to me."

She hugged him tighter and cried.

Ren expected to see his uncle at the door, not Poe.

He stood with the entrance, not sure if he should be preparing himself for a blow to the face, or a yelling match, or, or something belligerent. Poe had been easy before, but there was no telling what had been discussed regarding him, no clue as to what they intended to do.

It doesn't matter, he reminded himself, as long as she'll be okay.

"I'm not Force sensitive," Poe said by way of greeting, "but I can tell something's up. I want to know who you are."

"I am Kylo Ren, master of the Knights of Ren, commanded by the Supreme Leader of the First Order—"

"Wrong." Poe folded his arms over his chest. "Try again."

Ren rolled his eyes. "Fine. Ben Solo, heir of the Skywalker line, worst pupil the galaxy's ever seen."

"Also wrong."

His temper twitched. "I'm sorry, but that's all I've got." He wasn't hiding any extra aliases up his sleeves.

"What I think," Poe started, pacing forward. The lizard on his shoulder shuffled to speak to its comrades on the room's nutrient frame. "What I think, is that you're neither. You put up no fight when you woke up."

"What did you want me to do, swing the lightsaber you took from my belt?"

"I expected you to attack with words, do something to agitate me into letting my guard down. Instead you berated me about Rey."

…Was he really being this obvious? Stupid, stupid, what the fuck. Get a hold of your emotions, boy.

"You went straight to thinking about someone else, not to escaping. I watched you talk with Leia. There was no aggression in your stance; there was nothing but pain. I feel I have to ask, then. Who are you?"

"An idiot."

"That's a given."

Ren glared bullets at Poe's smirk.

"I don't know what they want to do, I left before they even started to make a decision. I don't think you'll give up information on the First Order—"

"Probably not."

"I don't think you're going to try to escape."

"And why is that?"

"You need our help, and you can't go back to your master for it. You need to do something he won't allow."

He knew his face was showing something akin to gratitude and he made no effort to rein it in. "I tortured you, not even four months ago."

Poe grimaced—the pain of that interaction hadn't faded. But he had a good heart—always had—and some sort of altruism shone through. "We're at war. You were my best friend for eight years."

Ren snorted. "I was the reason we were always in trouble for eight years."

"I couldn't have asked for a more thrilling childhood." His smile and the nostalgia faded. "They're going to want proof, though, that you're changing. My word isn't good enough. So, are you?"

Ren looked up into his face. He searched his eyes for some form of trickery that never manifested. If Poe could fight for him, perhaps he could fight for himself, whoever he was becoming. He swallowed thickly. He hoped he wouldn't regret these words. "If he hurts her—and he will, I know that—then I have no loyalties to Snoke."

Rey wandered through her dreams like a ghost upon the surface of a lake. It was cold where she was, and dark, so unbearably dark. After the boy had vanished, the world had gone silent and so she wandered. It was strange, sifting through memories, through feelings.

From up above, she could watch how it had happened. It started after she was brought aboard the Finalizer the second time, not before. When he's placed his hands to her broken body and made her whole again, the hatred had begun to crack away. It continued on, to how he'd protected her, embarrassed her; how he'd been genuine all the times she thought he was hiding behind a façade. The monster had been changing since before her day one. The monster was practically gone when they had visited the ice planet. She didn't know, then, how he'd held her, how the mere tickle of her skin had caused him to break down.

These were his memories as well, far more infused with emotion than her own. She didn't catalogue events the way he did, and she was grateful for his comments on them, the little imprints he'd made. She watched him crumble alone in the conference room when reality caught up to him, how he'd sighed and accepted his feelings.

He's breaking because of me, she thought heavily. The kiss came to view, the one he'd given desperately in the darkness of the underground. Oh, she hadn't known how much it affected him, couldn't have known. There was such selflessness in the one action that stole everything from her.

She hadn't a clue how it was making her feel.

Did she…reciprocate? She'd kissed him in a dream, sure, but was that due to her own wants or his influence? What were her own wants? What good could possibly come from feeling the same? Now it was she who was training in darkness, not him, and there was no room for attachments of that kind. She didn't need him.

Did she?

His presence entered the dreamscape like a heavy stone, dragging at her heart. She glanced up to see a man who was distinctly not Kylo Ren, but somehow, still one she knew. His eyes were a faded brown, rimmed red, cheeks blotchy. Had he been crying?

Could he cry?

Her hand reached out on its own to take his against her side, curling her fingers around his. The gesture froze him in space. "I didn't know." Her voice was scratchy and hoarse, as if disused. "I didn't know how much…what you felt. I should have known."

"I kept it from you." Oh, kriff, yes, he'd been crying. There was a thickness in his voice he couldn't hide. "What good would it have done had you known?"

"I wouldn't have left."

"Yes you would. You'd have thrown me to Poe on Condular."

"You didn't know on Condular."

"My subconscious did, somewhere I refused to look. And your savior complex would have tossed me to where you thought I'd be lifted to grace."

"I do not have a—"

He gave her a fierce look.

She bowed her head. "Seeing Finn in the snow, having to leave him there when you abducted me, it really fucked me up. He was so helpless and I couldn't do anything. But you, you were hurting and I could."

"Now I'm hurting worse."

"Please, don't. I can't fix you; I'm coming to realize that. But that doesn't mean you can't fix yourself like you said."

His fingers clamped against hers like iron. "I feel untethered without you. There's light all around but I can't latch on, there's no one consistent beacon."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not all that light anymore."

"He's poisoning you again."

"I'll be okay, I think. I'll handle myself."

"Be careful, for me. I don't know what I'll do if something happens to you."

"Burn something down, maybe. Crash a Star Destroyer."

"Put Hux's head through a door."

She laughed, leaning into him. "I'll do that myself."

He turned her around so she was flush against him. It was like bathing in fire to be so close, to touch him even in sleep. She robbed them of this in the waking world, robbed both him and herself of comfort, security. One of his hands lay so gently on the small of her back and her nerves shot off through her spine.

"The first dream we shard, the one in the sunlit morning. I…I'd like that future, with you. If we both come out of this alive, would you…"

"I think so." She tipped her head up to look in his eyes. They were stars, blinding and wonderful, just out of reach. "I have to sort myself out first."

And she rose on her toes to kiss him, to feel him alive against her lips. His gentleness broke and his hands moved swiftly to her jaw, anchoring them together. He kissed so hard, so fiercely, she thought she was being ripped apart. Lips turned to teeth. She'd never been kissed like this, had only ever known his mouth and now he was bruising her, branding her with his touch. He poured his need into her and it was overwhelming, feeling him against her skin, against her thoughts in their bond. She was drowning again in the ferociousness of him.

He pulled away only to press his forehead to hers, his breath sharp and labored. A tear trickled down his cheek and she stopped it with her thumb. He was so different now, humbled but hurt. And those three words, she'd seen them fuzzily again, never knowing what they said. She held him there; let him support himself until the emotion rolled away enough for him to speak.

"Come back to me in one piece," he said quietly. "I need you with me."

"I know." She smoothed down his wild hair. It was so soft. "But I can't make promises."

"How ridiculous this is, that we've changed into each other's shoes."

He brushed back her hair, fingers lingering on her neck before he left her in the darkness of their shared memories.

A/N: fuck it, have a Saturday update scattered with pain and longing.