I'm Back! I'm alive! And writing! XD SO sorry for the long absence guys, TLJ came out and it was just so different from the direction I was taking I kind of had a death of inspiration. Don't get me wrong, I liked it! But it sort of killed my fanfiction ideas... Also, as much as I enjoyed laughing as Hux... they ruined him a bit for me. :/ I thought he had potential to be a really interesting character... now, not so much. :(

BUT! What's fanfiction for, right? I mean, I didn't even ship Reylo until I was in about Chapter three writing this and Reylo wasn't cannon so I can do what I want! ;) I'm going to declare this an official AU fanfic now from Episode 7 and keep on keeping on with character development my way. (The hard, painful, angsty way).

Word of wisdom, you might want to review or skim a bit... I was even surprised how much I'd forgotten going through it again, and I wrote it! XD Again, so sorry for the long break! I hope I didn't lose all of you!

-D.

Ky was jerked awake when a guard roughly cuffed him over the head. He gasped and lurched back, large hands flying up to try and protect his head. The guard came at him again, kicking him in the gut and cuffing him when he fell forward.

You couldn't have just cuffed me while I was sleeping? He wasn't sure if his physical eyes were rolling, but if they could they must be. He could almost hear Rey snort in his head,

"They're getting a bit desperate to make sure we stay in line, yeah?"

As he was hauled to his feet though, he felt that sick reminder in his gut that this was different than that year he spent with Rey in captivity. First of all, it was only him that was being dragged down a cold hallway, alone, half-starved and probably half-mad by this point too. Rey wasn't there this time to give him those sleepy morning smiles or to invent new and creative ways to insult the guards without getting caught. Her impish smirk when she knew she'd won one over him, or the snarl that light her whole face into some powerful angelic expression of protectiveness and survival instinct. First of all he was alone…

Second… he was with the first order-which meant he was likely never going to see that fierce face again. No, not likely, definitely. He was blind.

He was never going to see Rey's face again.

He felt like he was suffocating. He groaned and bowed his head. She could be a cell away and he'd never know. She could be feet away from him screaming his name, and he wouldn't know. He was trapped within himself, a terrifying place to be.

He shut his eyes hard against the harsh reality and grit his teeth, continuing on in the direction that he was being shoved. He was carefully measuring and taking inventory of how force was slowly trickling back to him. He was out of whatever cell was keeping his force at bay.

As soon as his bare feet had left the smooth stone surface of the cell he'd been in and he'd stepped out onto the tiled floors of a ship, the fingers of his force had started to reach for him. He swallowed the initial gasps that wanted to push from his lungs as to not alert the guards of his returning power. No need to alert them until he had a reasonable escape plan. Which he did not. Not yet. Finding a way to get out of wherever he was being held was unsurprisingly difficult considering his senseless, starved and weakened state. He might be able to use a force blast strong enough to shake the guards off for a few moments, but then what?

Run face first into a wall? Off the edge of a balcony? Into a training room full of troopers? Just collapse of exhaustion after the minute of adrenaline wore off? No, that wouldn't do any good.

Instead he greedily hoarded every little bit of force that came back so that he could at least feel like he wasn't totally defenseless. It felt like they were going to keep walking forever and he quietly wondered if his shaking knees were going to buckle. He still hadn't been fed since before Attacker. Light-headed and dizzy he let the guards push him around and stored up force to help him stand.

After walking in the dark and cold forever, vaguely aware of souls passing his through his force sense and completely unaware of anything else, he was shoved into water. Gasping and flailing he fought at hands from every direction as they tore Companion's shawl from his hips and tore at his skin, scraping at dirt and grime.

He snarled and struggled against them. There were so many. Two hands per person meant that there were seven? Ten? Fifteen? Hands stripping him, scrubbing him, shoving him, beating him when he resisted. And resisting was something he never stopped.

"Stubborn much, beast bait?" He could almost hear Rey snicker in his head. Force, he supposed you don't realize how much a part of you someone else has become, unless you're separated from them for months and still hear their voice in your head.

He was never going to hear her voice again.

His tattered heart ripped yet again.

He was thrown out of the water and shoved out alone onto slick wet tile. Hair bristled up his spine and he held perfectly still, unable to know if he was alone, or surrounded, in silence or swimming in sound he was unable to hear. Suddenly hot air pummeled in from either side of him and he was thrown to the ground, unprepared.

He was in a shower dryer. The pounding heart in his chest wouldn't let him calm down even when he realized it was not a threat and clothes were shoved into his now dry arms.

He felt like every nerve in his body was straining to compensate for his lack of senses. Every muscle ached along his frame in anxious anticipation. Why? Where? Who? What? He had no way of knowing anything.

'Ky,' Rey's voice chided in his head, 'what do you know? You know something.'

He took a deep breath. He knew he was cold. And Hungry. The cold he could fix. The guards had given him clothing. He knew they wanted him dressed, which meant they were probably taking him somewhere. He knew he was cold, that he was hungry, that he was supposed to get dressed and that they were going somewhere. He knew he had force. He was not helpless.

Even if he felt completely so.

He took another deep breath and crouched down to get dressed, feeling safer closer to the ground so he could feel more of where he was at. He felt more in control somehow. He had a little force and he risked using just a bit of it to send out a pulse and explore his surroundings just a little.

Seven guards. Five men, two women. 'You should feel flattered.' Rey snarked in his head. 'They still think you're a threat, isn't that sweet?' A small smirk touched the corner of his mouth before he carefully wiped it away and finished dressing. How on earth would he have survived the past eight years without her humor? Force knew he didn't have any of his own.

As soon as his shirt was pulled over his shoulders, the freedom from the guards ended. Metal gloved hands smashed into him and dragged him forward. Ky didn't know to where, but if they thought that they needed to forcibly drag him there, it was not somewhere he wanted to go.

There were just two of them holding him so he dug his feet into the ground and twisted as hard as he could. His strength was lagging, but his height made it easier, their grips slipped and for maybe half second he was free. But then all seven of them lunged and struggle as he might, seven was too many. His strength evaporated after the initial burst of adrenaline and now his body was reminding him that he hadn't eaten in days at best. Weeks at worst.

Still he bared his teeth and threw every little bit he had into making it as difficult as he could for them to drag him from point A to point B. Several blows to the head landed him dizzily at the soldiers feet and a swift kick in the stomach stunned him enough that they just grabbed an arm or leg and carried him like a kill between them. He was too tired to resist anymore.

He felt like beast bait again.

Great.

The world swayed, a sensation he could only recognize as his equilibrium spun around in the dark, silent cavity he now dwelled in. When it finally stopped the guards dropped him unceremoniously upon a smooth as glass surface that sent pain racing through his bruises and breaks from the numerous beatings. He stayed on the ground for a while trying to find his bearings. When nothing happened for a while he slowly crept to his feet, self-consciously reaching around him for clues, until a voice- so familiar it made his insides freeze and shatter- spoke through force and into his silent world of black and cold,

"Kylo Ren. Welcome to the second dual for the title Master of the Knights of Ren."

He recognized the slick, oily force with tidal waves of power crashing within it as Snoke's, a split second before he was hit with the most powerful hurricane of dark force he'd ever experienced.

He dropped to his knees screaming.

Please Comment! I need to hear thoughts and feelings to keep me going!

-D.