Kylo had watched it all happen; his eyes did not— could not— leave Rey. He watched her break the prisoner, and maybe even herself in the process.
And there had been blood. Much blood. Too much of it.
Kylo watched as Rey made the man bleed, and cry, and scream. She crushed his heart and slit his throat, and so the story ended.
(For the prisoner, anyways. Rey and Ren, they still had a long way to go before they could call it the end).
Rey was holding herself together, but just barely. How long before she would break, Kylo wondered. She was a walking time bomb, just waiting, wanting to explode.
Rey left the room and did not look back. One step, then another.
Just keep on walking and it'll be okay. Everything would be okay.
Acting completely on impulse, she grabbed Kylo's hand and pulled him along her to wherever she was headed.
Forwards, that's where she was going.
By the time they got to the stairs, Rey's balance had slowly but surely worsened— Kylo regretted not taking the elevator. She was supporting her full weight against him now. But Kylo still couldn't shake the feeling that he was the one still holding on.
He just couldn't let go, could he?
Ben pretended not to notice the sweat glossing Rey's forehead. He ignored how glassy and unfocused her eyes looked, and the all-too noticeable blood stains on her hands.
When she wrapped a hand around his back for stability, he let her, no questions asked.
She was trembling.
They stumbled into Kylo's room.
Rey must've inadvertently been drawn to it, for whatever reason. She'd never been to his room before, but because of their so-called bond, she had no trouble finding it, and entered.
Just like every other place in the in the First Order, it was painted black, deep gray, and occasionally with shades of red. Such a beautiful palette of dead colors.
The moment they stepped into the chamber, Rey couldn't hold on any longer and she crumbled. She fell to all fours, and let out a ragged scream.
Rey hadn't cried in a long time.
Kylo, who always had a plan for everyone and everything, suddenly found that he had no idea what to do.
He just stared at Rey, not sure what to say, or do, or feel.
He tried to reach for her, but she pushed him away. And what was the point in trying to speak? Rey couldn't hear, and he couldn't talk.
So Kylo simply stood in the room, looking. He wanted to look away, more than anything, but he found that he just couldn't.
Because… he had turned her into this, hadn't he? The guilt was suffocating.
Kylo knew that it wasn't his fault, not exactly. Rey had made her choice, and walked the path laid out in front of her on her own accord. But he had been the one to pave it, and he just couldn't stop feeling so wrong.
Kylo didn't notice Rey standing up, and he didn't even realize he was crying until she put a hand to his face and asked why.
He had no answer. Words just wouldn't form.
"I'm sorry," he managed to stumble out. Barely.
Rey did not reply. She simply tilted her head at him, in some form of quiet confusion. She pulled him into an embrace (she was cold, so very cold), and looked at him.
And then she smiled.
An hour passed. Maybe. Kylo couldn't tell for sure. Maybe only a few seconds had gone, and it only felt longer.
Rey was sitting on his bed, effortlessly still. She was calmer now. Or maybe just less living.
Kylo was still standing, leaning against the wall. He wasn't looking at Rey, but he felt her gaze on him well enough, burning the back of his neck.
"Three weeks," she said, abruptly.
"What?" Kylo turned, crossing his arms.
"Three weeks until the Resistance attacks."Her voice was so cold, empty. Kylo wasn't prepared for this.
"We'll be ready for them," he said.
Rey nodded. "It'll be over soon…" she mused, and looked almost… relieved. Kylo walked over to her (how could he resist?), and took a careful seat beside her on the bed.
Rey was fidgeting with the hem of her suit, but somehow her hand still found itself to Kylo's. They always found each other, one way or another. Always.
She pulled off his glove, casting it to the floor, and held his hand, skin against skin.
He was warm; she was cold.
He looked at Rey; she looked back. But when she did, she saw nothing.
A night passed; Rey stayed. Kylo was thankful for it, even if it was maybe a little wrong to feel that way. It was just too pleasant, being with her. They could talk, and touch, and just exist with each other, for each other. It felt good to be normal, even if it was all just a pretend game.
Rey slept; Kylo couldn't.
He lay in the darkness, almost dreaming but never quite, listening to Rey's steady breathing beside him. She was just a small, unmoving figure under the dark covers, but that was enough for Kylo. She was there, that was all that mattered.
Asleep, Rey looked almost dead. Only she was still warm, and breathing; heart still beating. Thank god.
Kylo looked at her a little, eyes sweeping over her features for a brief second. She was beautiful, but she was changed.
She had darker eyes, and dark bags under them; she hardly ever slept anymore. Kylo knew this, because he had been there. Sometimes even the cause of it.
He would hear her at nights, as she tossed and turned, searching for a comfortable position but finding nothing that felt right.
He would blink, and suddenly find himself staring at Rey in the night. She looked into his eyes, and it seemed like she had so much to tell him, only she never said a word. Never shed a tear, even if it looked like she wanted to cry.
But today, when Rey was lying beside Ben in the bed, it wasn't from the force bond— it was the real thing. She was actually there. And she was alive.
Kylo looked at Rey one last time, and then turned, curling the blankets around him in an attempt to find sleep.
He didn't.
Morning came, bringing a beautiful sunrise into an ugly, cruel world. Rey slept well past dawn, but Kylo still had his duties so he left her in bed and went out.
He dressed himself in dark fabrics, as always. But today, he found himself wondering— trying to remember— how he'd look in something else. Would white suit him? Or beige?
It confused him. He'd never cared about this before, why did he now? Pulling on his boots, Kylo wiped his mind of these irrelevant thoughts and went on his way. But he felt concerned. Was he changing, too?
Ren did his duties, and Rey's too, because she was overworking again. As usual. She gave too much of herself and got nothing back. And one day, she wouldn't have anything left to give, and all Ben could do was pick up the pieces left of her.
Rey woke up around eleven. She stayed in bed because she was simply too tired, but using the force bond she spoke to Kylo Ren.
She wished him good morning.
And Ben said it back, because for once, it felt right. He even dared smile a little.
He smiled, even though there was nothing to smile for. He smiled, because Rey couldn't so he'd have to do it for her.
It was midday when Kylo returned, collapsing into his room, feeling tired but also more alive than ever before.
Rey wasn't exactly waiting for him, but she was there, and that was all he needed.
But she looked so sad. She had looked sad from the moment she took his hand, and that's just the way it was. But Kylo still wondered why it had to be like this.
Kylo lingered in the corner, not daring to walk closer. Rey watched him from the bedside, where she sat. She was silent, empty.
She leaned back, and looked upwards. If they hadn't been trapped inside the base— which might as well be their prison— Rey would've seen the sky.
The clear, blue, beautiful sky.
"One day," she said, "I'm going to take a ship, and escape to some planet, far, far away."
Kylo Ren knew he shouldn't ask, but he simply couldn't resist.
"What are you going to do there?"
Rey smiled a little. "I'll make myself a home. Away from all this war, and death…" She thought for a moment, and then added, "I wouldn't have to wear light or dark anymore. I could finally wear my own colors."
"And what color would that be?" Ben asked, humoring her.
"Anything, anything at all…"
Rey paused for a moment; Kylo Ren looked at her.
"I want to be free," she whispered. Ren noticed how her hand found it's way to his face and wrapped around his features. She was cold to touch, but he didn't pull away.
He didn't even remember ever walking up to her, and taking her in his arms. But he had.
"You know that's not possible," Kylo breathed.
He ignored the look of raw hurt on Rey's face. She pulled away, and smiled, even though she was bitter.
"I know. But I just can't let go…"
"You don't have to."
Rey sighed, closed her eyes.
"One day, I will."
Kylo Ren prayed to himself that she would never have to see that day. But it was in three weeks.
It was in twenty one days, and there was nothing they could do about it.
Nothing at all.
"Would you come after me?" Rey asked. "If I left?"
"You know the First Order wouldn't let you go so easily."
"I know. But if I did leave, would you find me, Ben?"
He whispered in one breath, "Yes."
"… Would you kill me?"
Kylo froze. He forgot to breathe. He fell.
He held Rey's hand, because he had to hold onto something. It was warm, comforting, and he could feel her pulse thrumming soothingly against him. But all Kylo could think of was that he was never going to see Rey again.
And he looked into her eyes, searching, apologizing, wishing he could just stop looking. Ben knew what he had to do, what he had to say. But he wasn't strong enough.
He wasn't strong enough.
But Kylo opened his mouth anyways, because, goddammit, what else was there to do?
"… Yes."
Rey closed her eyes, smiled a little.
"Thank you…" she breathed. "… Ben."