Rey bit at parched, cracked lips. Her mind was capable of only two thoughts- one, the desperate and overwhelming need for water. Two, Kylo Ren.
He was behind her.
He was gaining. Steadily.
Even when she felt the need to push herself a little bit faster, it seemed he matched her pace. Her mind had hours ago given up on the idea of ever losing him. Despite her very bones aching, all she did now was try and prepare for their inevitable clash.
Like the never-changing horizon stretched out before her, he was a constant- ever there, ever at her back. And as night started to fall, chilling her after being scorched by the planet's sun, her thirsting, starving mind considered what to do about it. Should she keep moving and pray to the stars he drops dead first? Or should she just stop caring, fall asleep where she stands, and let fate take its course? As the darkness crept in, although she could still feel him, she could no longer see him, and somewhere along the way she found herself on her knees and curled up into a shivering, shuddering ball drifting instantaneously to sleep.
—
Despite the heat this planet seemed to radiate from its very crust, Kylo did not remove his helmet. The armor was smartly designed, allowing for good air circulation, and even some amount of cooling, to be generated within, and anything that prevented the excretion of sweat on this planet was something he would take advantage of.
He was still desperately thirsty.
Kylo Ren had never wanted for anything. Neither had he before Kylo had ever existed. The desperate desire to claw one's own throat open for some relief from the dryness was a new one and something he felt he'd never ever get used to. He assumed he was hungry as well, but considering how the pain had been steadily increasing in his side, it was difficult to tell one sensation from another.
But he was getting closer.
He could make out the details of Rey's back now, and as they trudged along he became intimately familiar with the cut of her vest, its rough decorative padded ridges, and her low-slung tunic that fell over her cut-off pants. He could make out, too, the streaks her sweat made down her filthy calves and found himself oddly fascinated with the patterns it created against her skin.
There was little else to do in this situation but to watch her struggle on in front of him, but strangely he didn't mind.
Here. Right here, he thought, over and over. And then he blinked. I'll never let her out of my sight again.
The thought came to him suddenly, completely unbidden, but he liked it. She would never escape him. She was here, real, in front of him, and nothing would change that, even if he had to follow behind her for eternity. For some reason, he felt his eyes become moist but he willed the reaction away. Water could not be wasted.
When night came, he lost sight of her, but he felt as she collapsed and her mind slipped into sleep. He stopped, boots digging into the dirt, and nodded.
This is fine, his exhausted mind concluded, and he followed suit, pulling his cowl around himself against the biting night chill, and passed into slumbering oblivion.
—
Huddled on the ground, she found herself dreaming again. She dreamt of every terrible day on Jakku, every day she starved and thirsted, every day she failed to bring in any parts- days wasted earning nothing. She saw her younger self huddled in her then newly acquired AT-AT, clutching her doll made from bits of not yet desiccated fabric she found as she scavenged, made after some figure she only half recalled and couldn't place at all. She dreamed of her ocean, the island of peace and promise and belonging, and at that she could feel as his mind found its way to hers but even in her sleep she was too tired to care. She let him watch.
The dreams, like the night before, were exhausting. After she awoke, she stood in the dim sunrise and tried to dust herself down with her burnt hands. When she turned around, however, she froze. He was there in the distance, standing, waiting. She swallowed hard against her dry throat. He didn't move closer, didn't move until he saw her move, and although a part of her panicked to still see him there, still see him chasing despite it all, she couldn't even cry. There was no moisture left in her, and this day, as she began to trudge along, made the day before seem infinitely more bearable.
Her skin sloughed and her lips bled. She tried desperately not to pick at them- blood was still precious, precious moisture- but it was almost like a compulsion.
As the sun moved to its burning apex overhead, Rey had no idea how she was still moving, and even less of an idea how he, helmet on and clad head to toe in black, was still functional at all. Her breaths came in audible gasps now and her throat felt raw.
It occurred to her then that they were probably going to die on this planet. There was no one here. Her information must've been wrong. The Force must've led her astray. But as dusk set in and the cold crept back into her to replace the heat of the day, a small light in the distance suddenly caught her attention. It was then that she noticed a small group of figures quickly approaching her.
Instinctively she reached for her lightsaber and ignited it. The hiss as it activated was a comfort after so many days of not practicing, but deep down she hoped these people would help her and not fight her.
"Please!" she choked out. Her voice sounded strange and rough and not like her own. "I don't wish to fight you, but please if you could spare some water…"
The figures came within hearing distance and stopped. She paused, waiting for a response as her head spun from the sudden adrenaline rush.
"You there!" one of them called. Its accent was strange. "Should know better than to ask strangers for supplies on wastelands. What you got to trade for it?"
Rey looked up in confusion, their silhouettes outlined by the fading sunlight. She knew they were right- she would have done the same on Jakku. No one could ever spare anything on planets like this. But as she went over her inventory in her mind, she realized she had nothing.
"That weapon there!" it called again. "We give you water for that!" it shouted helpfully.
Rey frowned, looking down at the saber in her hand and somewhere in the back of her mind she could feel her connection with Kylo burn but she promptly ignored it. She looked up, shaking her head whether they could see it or not. "No!" she shouted back. "Ask for something else!"
She watched as they chattered amongst themselves before turning back to her. "Nothing else we want from you. Other than the meat off your bones. But you ain't got much there neither!"
They laughed at her and she huffed.
"The weapon for water. That's it!" it cried.
"I already said no!"
She watched them fidget and felt as their bodies tensed. "You trade or we take! What's it be?"
Rey's teeth gritted and she clutched her weapon in her hands. They charged. But instead of just the three she'd seen, more, maybe triple the number, came at her. She was so tired. How had she not noticed?
When the first one reached her, she swung, missed, but then gouged it in the side, disabling it. She slashed the next one, and stabbed the one after that, but what should have taken relatively little effort had already worn her down. Her arms felt like lead weights as she tried to swing with something resembling form. Too many…
Her eyes felt heavy, breath coming painfully, as she watched the next wave come towards her. She winced, raised her weapon, and even felt the beginnings of a scream well up deep in her chest, but the line of the oncoming gang flew away from her suddenly and the cool feeling at her back sprang up anew. Rey held her weapon aloft, on guard against them, but watched as every one that tried to get near her was pushed back and one by one they choked, violently, and died where they stood. She panted, her arms finally failing, and as she felt the life force slip away from the last one, she thumbed off her weapon and fell to her knees. She felt a swish of fabric brush past her as the large, looming shadow at her back came into full view and walked past her, towards the fire ahead, and a shout and the sound of clanging of items floated towards her.
She rolled back onto her heels and, somehow managing to clip her saber to her belt, fell over onto the ground. She blinked slowly, the firelight coming in and out of focus, saw the mass of her shadow tearing apart the gang's camp, and when she opened her eyes again, she felt herself propped up and something cold and wet sliding down her throat.
"Drink," said a familiar, unmodulated voice, and she did. He held it up to her mouth, trying and failing to bring up her arms up to hold it herself as she felt her body slump against his chest and took greedy gulps before the priceless drink was slowly pulled away and she could feel him beneath her taking a few draughts for himself before pressing the container back to her lips.
She felt his arms underneath her shoulders and somehow her feet managed to semi support her as he led her, grunting himself, to the campfire.
She was falling in and out of consciousness, she concluded. It was the only way to explain how there was nothing and then suddenly copious amounts of hot food being put into her hands.
She felt him press into her mind. Eat, he compelled her. She could fight it, she knew, but she didn't. She needed to eat, and if his will helped her manage it, she'd take it.
Just this once.
—
When the wasteland trash had decided to engage her, the choice had been easy. Weaponless, he used the only thing he had- the Force- as his broken saber still bobbed uselessly at his side, little more than a sentiment piece at this point.
He watched her strength finally fail after taking out a few of them, and so he finished them off, passing her prone form in favor of viciously tearing over their supplies. The canisters of water stood out to him first and, checking to make sure it actually was water, he turned back to Rey sprawled in the dirt.
He pulled off his helmet, the cold air hitting his exposed face with a shock, and lifted her upright only to have her collapse against him. He held back a gasp as he fumbled to tilt her face back and lifted the canister to her mouth as the liquid passed between her lips.
"Drink," he croaked out, and as she became more responsive in his arms he carefully pulled the container away and drank as much as he could force down his throat at once. Pulling away to take in deep breaths, he pushed the metal edge back towards her mouth and watched as she cracked her eyes open and drank.
Once it was emptied, he tossed it away and began pulling her towards the camp. His mind, after two days of inertia, grasped at the pointed focus of his mission- water, food, rest. He leaned her against a large rucksack and quickly cooked the rations he found, shoving a plate into her hands after splitting the bread with her. Her eyes seemed to glaze over as they stared into the fire.
Eat, he pushed with the force, shoving another mouthful into himself, and gave a satisfied grunt as she slowly brought the food to her ruined lips.
—
Rey's eyes fluttered open, and as her mind slowly shifted into motion, she realized that she had no idea where she was. Everything was in a haze. The fire in front of her was burned down to dimly glowing embers, and the first thing she realized was that while her throat still hurt when she swallowed, it was infinitely better than before, and for the first time in days, her stomach wasn't tearing itself inside out.
Her eyes swept the camp and she saw dark lumps in the distance, but none of it mattered when her eyes landed on Kylo, maskless, dozing five feet away from her on the ground. She blinked. How did she end up here? How did they end up here?
Nothing was making sense save for the tiny familiar nagging at the back of her mind telling her to 'Run from Kylo Ren'. And so, on auto pilot, she gropingly picked herself up, gazed off in a direction free from what she was more and more beginning to suspect were dead bodies, and forced her stiff legs to carry her away.
—
Something felt off and Kylo awoke with a jolt. He sat upright, eyes thick with sleep, and scanned the camp.
She was gone.
He jumped to his knees and regretted it instantly as excruciating pain rippled from his side, causing him to double over and shove his forehead into the ground. Gasping for breath, he waited for it to pass to a more tolerable level, and slowly looked up and around. In the dark, he saw nothing, and cursed.
How could she be so stupid? He had fed her even, and she still ran away? Thinking of the rations suddenly, his head snapped in their direction and saw that they were untouched. If she had been smart, she would have taken them with her. No, something wasn't right.
Against any expectations, he reached out for her, looking for that familiar thread, and tugged. She was close. Very close. Gathering what was worth taking into one of the gang's canvas sacks, he slung it over his shoulder and slowly made his way in her direction, ranting in his head at her the entire time. Stupid, stupid girl!
He felt her presence as he got closer, and in the starlight he could just make out her form. She was stumbling just a short way ahead of him, and he watched as the toe of her boot caught into a particularly deep crack in the ground and she tumbled forward and fell into the dust. He could feel the exhaustion radiating off of her, because it was his exhaustion, too. As he got closer, he glared down at her. She didn't get up.
"Scavenger," he growled, prodding her with his boot. "Scavenger," he tried again. He pressed against her mind and found it utterly blank.
"Rey," he hissed, hoping she would respond to her own name, but it was no good.
He cursed again and knelt down carefully beside her, desperate not to anger his side, and he rolled her over to pull her face out of the dirt. He sighed. Looking up at the sky, the night was still early and it was already freezing. All evidence of the camp was gone from his periphery- there was no point in going back.
Stretching out on the ground beside her, he tucked the sack between his knees and carefully, with only a slight whimper, eased himself down. He laid there, on his back, staring up at the stars and mildly catching his breath before turning to look at her. Face caked with dirt, he brushed a finger against her grime-streaked cheek. His breath caught and shuddered in his chest. Turning carefully towards her, he reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled, dragging her towards him, and tucked her close against his chest. It's warmer this way, he mumbled to himself. His gloved hand ghosted around her form as he yanked at what was left of his cowl from around his neck and draped it over their heads before leaning close to her, her head tucked carefully under his chin. He closed his eyes and sighed.
Tonight, maybe, with reasonably full stomachs, they could actually sleep.
—
Rey felt something unfamiliar yet warm against her as she squirmed, but when she cracked open her eyes and tried to pull away, nothing could have prepared her for what she saw. They were covered over, by something similar to what his tunic was made from she assumed, and starlight filtered through the sheer fabric to light his serious expression hovering just above her head. She slowly pushed against him but it was like budging rock- his arm was wrapped hard around her.
Escape was impossible.
She sighed. Gaining for herself a least a couple of inches to arch back and look at him, she tried pressing against his mind but found him very soundly asleep. His face was set into a deep frown.
Of course he'd look like that even when asleep, she thought, exasperated.
As she watched him, she felt his expression become contagious as her face soon mirrored his own. She was so tired, and the last thing she remembered had been the attack…and there had been food. She found her fingers unknowingly toying with the fringes of his tunic as she struggled to remember.
Kylo fed us.
She saw it again and remembered what she had allowed, his mind compelling her to eat when she thought she didn't have the strength. The first taste of water in days. How had she drunk it? He held you up, she heard herself remember.
Rey felt mildly horrified and she let her head drop to the side against the ground.
Desperation really makes strange bedfellows of people. She felt the corner of her lip twitch in ironic amusement.
It was as far as she could allow herself to think into it all right now, but as her eyes flickered up once more to his face, she felt her breath stop as the thin scar that ran from the center of his forehead, down his nose, and across his cheek caught the filtered starlight and shone almost white against his skin. Her eyes widened.
My work. I did that.
She forced herself to breathe again, and when she did, the breaths came slow but heavy. Unsure of just what she was intending, she cautiously wiggled free an arm and her hand hovered over his face. She felt her pulse quicken, and she questioned strongly the curiosity compelling her, but the urge was almost overwhelming. Careful not to disturb the canopy billowing above them, she gently rested two fingertips on his forehead and slowly, lightly traced along the edge of the mark. She found herself mesmerized despite herself. As her fingers fell to his lower cheek, he flinched, stirring in his sleep, and she snatched her hand back from his skin like she had been burned and stifled a gasp.
Her eyes snapped to his mouth as his lips pursed briefly, but in a moment he was still again, still asleep. She exhaled, relief flooding through her. Biting the side of her tongue, she slowly pulled her hand back, but as she did, she found her fingertips inadvertently brush along his unmarred cheek and stared as his brow smoothed. The scowl was gone, and in its place came an expression decidedly more peaceful.
Rey blinked. None of this is right, she felt herself thinking over and over again, but as she watched him, she decided, at least for tonight, she wasn't in any danger. At least for tonight she'd eaten, had her fill of water, wasn't completely freezing…
At that thought, she instinctively found herself curling into his chest, and although she hated herself for it, pressed her forehead against him.
He was warm. She was exhausted. And as she felt herself slip much too easily into sleep tucked inexplicably close to her nemesis, she repeated At least for tonight…at least for tonight…..just for tonight…..
A/N:Well...is it what you expected? We're not done yet, though. I rewrote the ending of this one a couple of times and I'm rather pleased how it came out, but I'm already a ways through the next chapter and let me just say...let us not forget how hot and cold Kylo can get. He is the definition of 'triggered' to outrageous extremes. Nothing seems to last very long with him...and remember the only one armed right now is Rey.
Thanks so much to firerosedreamer67, Atiama Amisl, chinrichs2018, CharlotteCAgain, and River Fox for your wonderful comments last chapter- I get giddy whenever an alert hits my inbox. I know I've said it before, but I really do live for you guys' replies!
See you all next chapter~