He's not quite sure how he made it into hyperspace, the desperate sobs choking him so hard. Breathing in deeply, he scrubs his face clear of tears, even as they still threaten. Somehow, he'd managed to take off, enter the coordinates … he supposes years of navigating while in a post-atrocity haze could have something to do with it. Now, all that there is to do is wait as his ship takes him to what now feels inevitable.

And try to blank out Rey's pleading face. He did the right thing, didn't he? She would never have let him go quietly, and the thought of having to pull her from him, fight her as he hauled himself up into his ship … Having her final memory of him be his hands physically pushing her away—well, it doesn't even bear thinking about.

At least this way, the last words she heard from him were of his love for her, and their last moment, his lips sealing the truth of his devotion.

Yes, he did the right thing.

Why, then, does he feel like his mask's empty eyes are searing into him in judgement?

It sits there, next to him, a mocking symbol that used to bring him strength and surety. Evocative of his grandfather, declaring the darkness Ben had always craved. That it hid him from even himself had only ever been a benefit. The red glare of the lights in the cockpit glinting off the silver accents make it impossible to ignore.

Now, though … he wants to smash it to bits, destroy it as completely as he's destroying himself. The pain of walking away from Rey is only bearable because he knows he won't have to feel like this much longer. His hands clench the controls, as the blue of hyperspace spins out in front of him, like a whirlwind of all the choices he could have made.

The yawning abyss that's opened up within him puts his lifetime of struggle into sharp relief, howling with every single one of his mistakes.

He thought he knew loss. He thought he knew the caustic feeling of betraying those you love. He thought he knew every shade of torment, every color of agony.

He knew nothing.

Nothing at all.

The time crawls, and Ben knows he should find his center, prepare himself for this audience with the Supreme Leader. He'll reach the Supremacy soon, and he's still constantly on the verge of tears and the edge of returning to Rey.

He would have expected his pride to demand he face this with honor, a good soldier to the very end. But he's not really sure he even cares what Snoke thinks of him. Let him see that he's still that soft boy, Ben Solo. Because he is, he's so soft for Rey, and for the first time, he finds no fault in that.

Yes, that's how he'll present himself to his master. If he's to die, he'll die belonging to Rey.

Somehow, she's washed away years of the lies he told himself, the equivocations, the dark bargains in the night. Rey tore away everything but his essential being, and that being is hers, and hers alone.

As his TIE shudders out of hyperspace, a horrific scream tears through the stars, through the endlessness of open space, through the crumbling foundation he's managed to cobble together.

Rey.

Her sobs of rage and a heart destroyed make him grasp his head, trying to think through the scraping sound of her. He can't see through cascading memories, her bitter life flying though him, leaving him flayed, laid bare.

One memory pulls him like a star's gravity, a very young Rey, face blotchy with tears. The stark purity of a child's pain reverberating through time.

Come back!

Oh, gods, what has he done? She's bleeding, rent open, and all he can do is feel all her warmth gush through his futile fingers. He left her … he left her ...

Just like that, whatever spanned across the lightyears blinks out and he's left gasping.

What has he done?

There's not enough fuel to return to her—all he can do is glide into the massive hangar of the Supremacy.

But … when he pulls himself from the cockpit, all he's greeted with is an eerie silence. The huge space is empty of all personnel …

If he'd hoped that Snoke would show him mercy, he has no hope of that now. The deliberate setting of the stage tells him everything he needs to know. His master did always have a flair for the dramatic.

There's a pull in his limbs, beckoning him forward. Wait. He needs to refuel, return to her ... No … no. The damage is done, the only way is forward. He'll make her anguish worth it.

As he walks to the lift, his eyes clench shut briefly, allowing himself one last moment to imagine her fathomless, penetrating stare, the only place where he's found home. There's no choice, not now. It's clear he's made the right decision, even if she spends the rest of her life hating him.

It will be a long life, at least.

He'll give Snoke enough of a show to ensure it.

As he reaches the controls of the lift, her voice undoes all of his justifications.

"How could you?!"

Ben has no idea how it is he can hear her, but he also doesn't really care to untangle the mystery. His head hangs in shame? Regret? All he knows is that he barely has the strength to raise it again.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

"Face me, you coward!"

That does make him shift, turning to glance behind him.

His knees nearly buckle as he finds Rey, right there. Her face is full of seething anger, her chest lifting with heaving pants.

But all he can do is gape, torn between wanting to bundle her away lest someone see her or drag her to the nearest transport and throw her in. So he's frozen, his mind tumbling a parsec a minute trying to understand.

Rey, however, isn't so stunned, as her feet eat up the distance between them.

Her fists pound at his chest with no real intent. "You-you-you made me believe you really cared!"

Clasping her hands in his, still completely lost, he cries, "I do! I'm doing this for you!"

Lips twisting in contempt, she spits, "Then you don't know me at all!"

She's wrong. She's so wrong. How can she say that after how they'd twined together in the Force?! But how to plead his case?

"Rey—"

His words are cut off when she flings herself at him. He manages to catch her as she crashes her lips to his, her legs wrapping around his waist. Wait. What? Then he doesn't care, because she's raking her hands through his hair, kissing him like he's the only air left in the galaxy. He's only just realized he's holding her by her backside when she unwraps her legs and pulls from him.

Eyes red and swollen, she again accuses, "How could you," but this time it's a plaintive whimper.

"I'm trying to save your life," he argues.

"My life. Mine. I'm through having other people make decisions for me! If I say you're worth it to me, that—is—my—choice." Her voice becomes a low growl. "If I'm willing to run with you, you don't get to take that from me. If I want to fight by your side, it is my right."

Oh. He … he hadn't thought about it like that and he's filled with shame. That burn-bright center that even a lifetime of subjugation couldn't extinguish stands in harsh indictment. His carefully prepared logic is engulfed by her fire and his own selfish refusal to consider her agency. Ash. Everything he ever touches turns to ash.

"Rey, I never meant to take that from you." Godsdamnit, he's just like the men in the brothel, ignoring what she wants.

Rey's gaze sears into him, not with accusation, but with a depth of sadness he'd hoped to never see from her again. But she nods, her lips quivering.

Approaching her slowly, he lifts his hand carefully to her face, still having no idea how touching her is even possible. Swiftly, she nuzzles into his palm and he lets out a long, grateful breath. "I'm sorry …" he murmurs.

"Everyone always leaves me. I thought … I thought you might be the one who stays."

Inhaling a sharp breath against how that squeezes the air from his lungs, he pulls her into his arms. "I wanted to, more than you can ever know."

"But you still left me."

"I … I didn't see it that way, I couldn't. But I do now. I do."

"Come back. We'll disappear, help the Resistance defeat him. Anything but losing you," she pleads, holding his eyes.

A tidal wave of worthlessness crashes over him, but her eyes, her eyes!

"Please, Ben. Don't do this."

Looking around at the empty hangar, searching for another way, his scrutiny finds a sleek ship, recently commandeered. Large enough for two, it wouldn't be infested with First Order tech … the vessel might buy them a significant head start. If they could find his dad …

At first, he nods slowly, but then emphatically. "Yes, yes. You're right." Sighing, he admits, "You were always right."

The smile she grants him would put the glowing sunrise on Naboo to shame, but then she gets a queer expression. "Uhm. Do you know how I'm able to touch you? I'm still in the forest, but I can see you."

His synapses are overwhelmed and a hysterical laugh bubbles up from his chest. "I have no idea! You just appeared!" he chokes out between cackles.

Rey's eyes grow concerned, so he tries to rein in his mad laughter. "We'll figure it out." Nothing about her coming into his life had been ordinary, anyway. "But for now, I'm on my wa—"

"Lord Ren," a voice devoid of inflection calls.

His head swivels to find the source of the sound and he sees Snoke's guards advancing on them, a jagged swath of crimson. Swiftly, he pushes Rey behind him.

"You will come with us. The Supreme Leader does not appreciate being kept waiting."

Rey's hands scrabble at him, but his physical advantage keeps her hidden. The lead guard's head cocks and he jerks his head towards the two of the other soldiers, who stalk towards him.

Igniting his blade, Ben prepares to fight as they circle him.

"What is he hiding?" the commander demands.

"Nothing. There's nothing here."

The lead regards him keenly as Ben quickly realizes that only he can perceive Rey.

"They can't see me," Rey confirms and he gives a slight nod. Her fingers spasm around his bicep and he hears her let out a breath.

"While we would enjoy finally showing you some respect, we can't deny the Supreme Leader the pleasure."

This isn't what he wants … what if Rey's fate is to watch him die, unable to do anything? While she's made of durasteel, this is the very last thing he would have wanted, even as he can't deny how his heart beats stronger for her presence.

The ship is too far and his foes too numerous. While he doubts the introduction of Snoke would in any way improve his chances, his boots feel melded to the decking.

The guard shrugs. "Though, I certainly won't mind bringing you to our master a bit … damaged."

"Go. You have to go," Rey presses.

Her words release him from his strange trance and he begins to walk forward, returning his saber to his side as Rey shadows his steps.

"Boy," Snoke's voice booms as the lift's doors open to his blood-red chambers, and Ben treads into the abattoir. As Snoke's twisted visage comes into Rey's view, she breathes in harshly, and a wave of apprehension buffets Ben through the Force.

Following years of rote memory, he kneels before his master, not bothering to hide his contempt.

"Ah. I see that you take issue with the nature of our arrangement, Apprentice."

Ben says nothing as the guards stream out behind him, taking their usual places.

Snoke's mangled face falls into a look of revolted appraisal. "You stink of her."

Good. He should. She's invaded, cleansed, every single one of his cells.

"All this—for a whore?" Snoke roars.

"Don't call her that," Ben seethes.

"Why? It's what she is."

"No."

His master's chin lifts, as if he's scenting prey. "There's something new, something ancient about you …"

Snoke stands from his ostentatious dais, his fragile physical state making his sheer power all the more evident against the frailty of his gate as he approaches Ben's kneeling form.

Circling Ben, looming over him, he can't suppress the revulsion that twists through him at Snoke's nearness.

"The Awakening I felt …" Snoke muses as Ben realizes—far too late—that of course his master would sense Rey, that there had never been anything he could have done to keep Snoke from hunting her down. To destroy or to seduce to the dark side, he can't say, but he knows that they are one and the same, ultimately.

Steepling his fingers, Snoke says, "No matter. You are what concerns me at the moment. Though, make no mistake, I will find her."

Ben's stomach sinks to his boots as Rey snorts, "I can't wait."

"What was that, Apprentice?"

Stony silence is all that he offers Snoke, whose lips curl in disdain. "Little princeling. Arrogance bred into your bones."

Dimly, Ben realizes that Snoke's taunts find no purchase, his barbs no longer tearing into his softest places. How had he ever submitted to this? His fingers itch to take up his saber, but Snoke doesn't begin to have the honor to face him in open combat.

"I hate the way he talks to you," Rey snarls, standing sentry at his side.

Her fiery defense makes Ben's lip quirk slightly, causing Snoke's brows to rise.

"Something amuses you, Ben Solo?"

He can feel the hate gathering in his gaze, but he returns his expression to blank disdain, even as he takes in every detail of the throne room, marking the location of each guard, every possible weapon he might be able to use.

If only he could talk to Rey, make some sort of plan to take advantage of the fact that only he can see her. Though … he has no idea if she can manipulate his surroundings.

Snoke's cheek twitches in annoyance, giving Ben a sliver of satisfaction. Now that he's allowing himself to think long-forbidden thoughts, the entirety of his life with Snoke is unravelling swiftly. It's as if he's been existing only in shadow, assuming he's surrounded by power and influence, only to have illumination reveal the shabby, hollow truth of it all.

At the center, there's nothing but decay and rot. What he'd once considered wisdom, feels like the emptiest of platitudes.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Snoke demands, his frustration beginning to show.

His mother always did know how to use silence as a weapon, a skill Ben didn't think he possessed. However, watching Snoke's controlled menace begin to crack has him wondering if perhaps he might share that trait after all.

Gracefully, Ben rises, opting not to question where this newfound sense of confidence is coming from. He's fairly certain he knows, anyway, and she stands right beside him, solid as stone and as vast as the sea.

"I did not bid you stand," Snoke observes with an edge of a growl.

Ben regards his former master for a long moment, the silence growing thorns. "I don't believe I do your bidding any longer, Snoke."

Narrowing his eyes, Snoke scoffs, "Just like your father. You never have thought things through." There's a strange almost-fondness to his tone, reminding Ben of how kind the old man had seemed. In the beginning.

Weariness pulls at the Supreme Leader's skeletal shoulders as he shakes his head with a tsk. "Such a waste."

Leisurely, he flicks his wrist and all Ben knows is pain.

And Rey's screams.

A/N: Thank you to my valiant team, ArtemisBare and Silvergrain! You both see such different things and I'm ridiculously lucky that you gift your time to me. I love you both.

Thank you, Readers! It's so invigorating to be able to experience the joy of sharing my work with you again. I truly think you have helped me find a whole new hue of gratitude. To my US readers, please have a safe and happy Thanksgiving. I know everything is topsy-turvy, but I hope you are able to find quiet new joys.