Notes:
This chapter contains descriptions of injuries and the mention of torture, as well as Ren's typical temper tantrums. Those who are triggered by these topics are advised to skip it.
Waking is nothing but a haze to Luke this time around. A wave of nausea hits him as soon as he moves his head to the side, his skull feeling near bursting. He groans. His throat feels dry and parched, almost sore from overuse. He cannot tell how long it has been since he was captured by the First Order. All he can remember is an ocean of pain and his voice breaking after too much screaming. His body feels like one single, huge ache, every breath he takes burning like fire in his lungs. There is something sticky covering his forehead and right side of his face. Blood, he thinks.
The metallic taste in his mouth and soreness of his tongue imply, that he must have bitten it hard enough for the skin to break at one point, probably to keep in more noises of agony.
Wearily he opens his eyes a crack, hoping that whatever guard they have posted nearby will not notice and thus grant him a few more precious moments of recovery.
The lights are dimmed, almost too dark to make out more than shadows. Or maybe it is just his vision being blurred after receiving several hits to his head. There are a few blinking light, controls as he assumes. A presence to his right tells him the exact position of the guard. A weak signature in the force, but still a threat in his current state.
Luke concentrates, willing the pain to ebb away. He has done this before, lacking any help during his time on Ahch-To. Pretending he never contemplated stepping off one of the cliffs would be a blatant lie, as well as saying he never sustained any injuries during his vicious, punishing training.
Carefully he assesses the damage done to his body. A severe concussion, telling by the headache and nausea, at least one cracked rib, bad brushing all across his frame, as well as countless cuts and abrasions. His left leg feels strange enough, numb in its current position.
It takes all of his willpower to not cry out as he tries to move it. A dislocated knee, probably caused by a furious kick against the joint. It only makes the situation worse, disabling him to move at even an remotely fast pace, if at all.
The whizz of the door behind him makes him tense up immediately, a very uncomfortable feeling given his injuries. Ren's aura fills the room like a suffocating wave of thick smoke, stealing the remaining air from his system, added by a crushing sensation, a vise-like grip, grinding his bones to dust. He is the epitome of danger and Luke his defenseless prey.
"Wake him" Comes the command, the voice warped once again by the mask.
A rough shove to his side makes him wince and open his eyes. The guard must have poked his sore ribs with his weapon.
The masked face comes close to his own, the emotions unreadable behind the black shield.
"Had a good rest?" Ren mocks and closes his right hand around Luke's throat.
"I have been told you are a defiant man, uncle" the grip tightens, making the older man feel dizzy from the lack of oxygen. Nevertheless he answers in a cracked voice, a slight smile on his lips.
"Thanks to your hospitality, Ben"
A slap hits him hard in the face, making his already bruised cheek burn.
"That name" The deep voice snarls "Is a ghost of the past. Ben Solo is dead"
"And yet he is hovering over me." The answer gains him another angry hit, making his ears ring and the world fade for a few seconds.
"Insolent fool!" The words sound like thunder, but Luke doesn't flinch. He will not grant the other the satisfaction of showing fear.
"The last Jedi. You will suffer and then you will die. A very slow, painful death. I will tear you apart, limb by limb" The malice in the younger man's voice startles Luke.
"And to which circumstances do I owe the pleasure?" A hand tightens in his hair and draws his head back. He grits his teeth, refusing to make another sound.
"You will lose that smile soon enough, Jedi."
It takes a moment for Luke to regain his composure as strong hands wrap around his wrists in a bruising grip.
"But first you will tell me everything."
"E-everything?" Luke presses out "You will have to be more specific, Ben." He hisses in discomfort as the hands tighten further.
"You know exactly what I mean. Where. Is. The. General. You know where she is."
"You mean your mother." He gasps as he feels his skin tear under the pressure on his wrists.
"She is not my mother." The boy is on the verge of a snapping. Luke can sense it in the shift in the force, like a singing heat surrounding him. But he will not falter now.
"You're in denial Ben." He searches for the other's eyes under the mask "You're still attached to her"
"I AM NOT" Ren screams out, his anger burning like a bushfire. His hands cramp up even more and with a crunching noise Luke's artificial wrist snaps, the delicate parts giving in to their fate, making wires and sharp edges of broken metal stick out in all directions.
His other arm feels numb, the damage yet uncertain. Luke doubts he will be able to use the hand for a long time to come. Hanging limply in the chair he decides to give in to the impending oblivion once again.
Rey can sense it, a light fading in the distance. Where there had been the tiniest glow in the back of her mind reassuring her that Luke was still alive, there suddenly is nothing but a void, and it breaks her heart.
"No…" She shakes her head in desperation "NO!" She cries out, evoking worried glances from her friends.
"Rey? What is it Rey?!" Poe's face is hovering over her, Finn right behind him, eyes huge and scared.
"Luke" She whines.
"Did something happen to him? Rey! Please" The pilot seems as scared as Rey feels.
"I don't know."