There was a rooftop, silent and still in the darkness. The stars were sleeping, the moon was dead.

Kylo and Rey were neither silent nor still, as they battled on the rooftops. Shots were fired, roars of rage could be heard.

Wounds were sustained.

Kylo knew that things were getting out of hand— He had lost count how many times Rey had been shot, and a large gash decorated his shoulder, colored a striking crimson.

Ben fired a blur of shots at Rey, who swiftly dodged out of the way. A smile danced on her lips as she swung her weapon at him, missing by a hair. Their arms brushed, blood mixed.

They were close, far too close. Ben felt the last of his control slipping out of reach, replaced with that biting, consuming bloodlust.

Kylo Ren hated not being in control, having a clear understanding about things. He hated Rey for the same reasons.

The fight continued between them, only growing in blood and rage.

Rey showed no sign of tire, only exhilaration. How she could be so carefree in the face of death, Kylo Ren never understood.

All he knew was that he had to stop, as soon as possible, before things became too distorted, unrecognizable.

He had to stop, or else he might kill Rey, for real.

They didn't live in some half-assed fantasy world, where everything was a dream— this was reality. And in reality, the dead remain dead, no matter what. Kylo Ren had learned that the hard way, the day he killed his father.

It had been easy, so very easy, to kill Han Solo. One stab, one strike, and it was over. Accepting that he was dead was the hard part.

So Ben knew, now, that if he shot Rey through the heart, she would never wake up again. He didn't know why, but that thought stung him as much as Rey's lightsaber.

He had to find a way to end their damned battle, soon.

Thinking of something would've been easier, If he didn't enjoy fighting her so fucking much.

"You're going easy on me," Rey panted in the midst of it all. "Fucking stop it."

Kylo stood, his head pounding from Rey's last hit. "Well, I'm not supposed to kill you, remember?" he mumbled vaguely, "You're still a… valuable asset."

Rey squared her shoulders. "You can't kill me."

"We'll see," Ben responded, cracking his neck.

Rey nodded, looking grave.

A gloved hand entrapped Rey's throat, a blaster was pushed against her head. She was cornered, pressed against the cold, hard wall.

But she wasn't the only one trapped; Kylo Ren was as much her prisoner as she was his. In Rey's right hand was her lightsaber, deactivated, but ready to strike; ready to cut Kylo Ren and watch him bleed.

"It's over," he hissed to her face.

"No, it's not," Rey acidly retorted, pressing her weapon harder to Kylo's chest. One flick of a switch, and she could end it all with one stab through the heart.

All it took was one flick.

"Stop playing games!" Kylo Ren croaked, "You can't escape the First Order Rey! You just can't."

"So you've tried, too," Rey replied, reading Kylo Ren like a book. An open, battered book with black pages. The pages had to be black, otherwise the blood stains would show.

Kylo Ren didn't respond, just gave a bitter nod.

"How long before you gave up?" Rey asked, taunting. "Two days? Three?"

"Shut up."

Kylo Ren's grip tightened on Rey's neck. She pretended she could still breathe.

"I'm not going back to that fucking cell. Ever," Rey choked. Kylo Ren smiled darkly, lowered his face closer to Rey's. She felt his cold breath on her neck.

"I'm going to make you a liar, Rey…" Kylo Ren whispered dangerously into her ear.

God, how his words hurt her. But only because Rey knew that they were true. Soon, all her words and convictions would become untruth, and she'd be trapped in that empty, black cell once more. A colorless box.

Because black's not really a color, is it? It's just pain.

"I'm taking you back now," Ben whispered, almost a little kindly.

"No!" Rey rasped, turning her head so she wouldn't have to see his sad, hurting eyes a moment longer. Tears of spite rolled down Rey's pale cheek.

She'd lost the battle. They were going to imprison her again, just like the Resistance had. Forcing their silly morals and ideals on her, trapping her in a cramped, colorless box.

God, Rey just wanted to see some color. Real color.

And then Rey heard Ben say her name. And at last, she remembered, understood.

There was a way to escape, after all.

Kylo Ren had thought that Rey had finally admitted defeat, resigned herself to the painful truth that was life.

But he had been wrong. So very wrong.

One moment, Rey was his prisoner: immobile and defeated. The next, a burning sensation exploded in Kylo Ren's shoulder— she had cut him with her lightsaber— and slipped out of his grip like wind.

Rey leapt to the edge of the roof, swaying dangerously at the edge.

"Rey," Kylo called out to her. For a moment it seemed like Rey was going to respond, but instead she leaned her head back, and let laughter wreck her lungs. It was a hollow, beautiful sound.

Kylo Ren listened in silence, not daring to say anything, or even move, until at last Rey's laughter died away to silence.

Then Rey she turned to face Ben like the warrior she was.

And that's when it happened: She offered it to him, something Ben had offered her only a few months ago:

A hand.

Her words were simple, empty; yet they tore apart and rebuilt Kylo Ren's world as he knew it. Black pillars tumbled down and the ground opened up like a mouth inside him.

Her hand captivated him like nothing else; her voice was like a starless night, the dying moon:

"Overthrow Palpatine with me."