Acid runs through his veins, each gasp for air full of barbs tearing through his lungs. He can't even catch his breath enough to scream.
Rey is doing it for him.
The agony of her desperate howls takes him to a strange place, sharpening her history—and his—into a delicate scalpel. Is this how she sounded when Plutt stole her innocence? Is this what he enabled with his credits and his unthinking sublimation of his own pain; buried in the vulnerable heat of faceless women he never even noticed?
How many victims lay at the feet of Kylo Ren?
The sounds coming from her throat keep him from losing consciousness as he tries, tries so hard to analyze, think, plan. He won't let Rey be the last victim to be torn asunder because he hasn't the courage to scrape the boundary across the dry soil of his life.
But all he can do is watch the cruel pleasure in Snoke's eyes as he twitches.
His former master's excitement is obscene.
Somehow, he'd lost his footing and crashed to the floor. The cool surface of the decking against his cheek soothes a counterpoint as his body jerks and spasms under the stunning agony. It's not the lightning he's accustomed to, this feels more … personal.
While he gulps for air, he wonders why Snoke has unleashed this new torment. Every cell in his blood is exploding within him, creating a strange kind of silence where he cannot feel anything but the need to be free.
As swiftly as it began, the torture ceases and Snoke folds his arms, looking down on Ben like a displeased professor. "Oh, Apprentice … this was always a danger when I took you on," he tuts with a disappointed shake of his head.
Ben tries to understand his words, but he can barely move and all he really cares to know is if Rey is safe. Pressing his hands against the metal flooring, he finds the strength to push himself onto his hands and knees. There's nothing left as his fingers scrabble to find the strength to lever himself up. Exhaling a whimper, he cannot even lift his head to seek Rey.
Gods, what if she'd siphoned away his suffering? What if Snoke really had meant to kill him? The golden thread between their hearts, the tether he's only begun to understand, twangs as he thinks he hears her shudder. All the air leaves him as he feels her hand cover his, her warm fingers sparking him to life.
"Are you alright?" she croaks, her throat raw.
Borrowing her strength, his eyes slide to Rey, twitching his head ever so slightly. He's not, not really, but he'll live. Physical pain stopped mattering to him much a long time ago, it was always his heart that plagued him.
Snoke makes an impatient huff and Ben's gaze snaps to the fragile man, the knowledge that Rey is right beside him giving him what he needs to lift his head.
"Well, now that I have your attention … we have much to discuss." Snoke looks down on him with a cold calculation.
Without his permission, Ben's eyes bulge in surprise as he realizes how strange it is that he's still alive. Even as he begins to stagar to his feet, he can't quite accept that his heart, Rey's heart, still beats in his chest.
Snoke's lips twist into a smile that imparts no warmth as he sinks into his throne. "You thought I'd simply kill you for straying from my path?" His hand makes a dismissive gesture. "You think I don't know it is to be blinded by a wet cunt?"
Ben's jaw tightens as Rey inhales sharply. Her hand finds his and she hisses, "Don't let him provoke you. We both know it isn't true."
With narrowed eyes, Snoke regards Ben, clearly waiting for a response. When none is forthcoming, he continues, "I would have even let you keep her, had you not allowed her to split your focus." His gaze hones its blade as he declares with icy finality, "I cannot permit such insipid indulgence."
Wanting to roar at Snoke, declare his love, his devotion, he can see it all unspin in front of him. Taking her by the waist as he uses the Force to twist his old master into an eviscerated carcass, making it clear that he's Ben Solo and Rey is the only love he'll ever have.
Ben is about to speak when Rey squeezes his hand. "No. Don't. It's what he wants. Never show them your throat."
Fleetingly, his heart aches that she has such knowledge, even as he swells with pride. Somehow, she managed to hold onto her soul, even as he eagerly traded his.
Silence continues to reign in Snoke's chamber, until finally the man he'd always thought to be nearly god-like huffs like an impatient old grandfather, "Well?"
Recovered enough to pull himself fully to his feet, Ben stands tall, strong, Rey's fingers in his. "What would you like me to say?" he asks after a long moment.
Snoke stands at that, having to steady himself on the arm of his throne. Fury limns his entire form and his eyes flash. "I would like, Apprentice, to see some sign that you understand your error."
Nodding his head, Ben smirks. "I'm beginning to."
"Then tell me," Snoke bites out.
In that moment, he's not quite sure what to think, as Rey pulls her hand from his. The panic he feels, the fear, the acceptance. Of course she'd withdraw. He's always been a lost cause … It's too much, and he gulps obviously.
"Ah, now you see. I suppose it's forgivable that you'd have your head turned. Even Vader failed when he had the power—the stunning purity of the dark—in his hands."
Ben's head shifts swiftly to find Snoke with his questioning gaze.
"Ah, yes, my apprentice … I'm afraid your grandfather was left wanting. In the end."
"But … you always told me Luke killed him, betrayed his own father!" Ben declares.
Slumping back into his throne, Snoke nods his head slowly. "What I told you was true. From a certain point of view."
Everything is whirling, coming undone and woven again. Once, only once, Luke had tried to tell him what truly happened, at the end of that nightmare that was the Jedi Temple finding out about Anakin Skywalker's assumed identity.
Was it … true? Had his grandfather turned on the Emperor in his final moments?
His eyes flit around the wide, blood-red space, trying to find purchase when he sees her—she's creeping along the edge of Snoke's chamber. Some part of him sighs with relief; she hadn't left him. Can she possibly choose him as he has chosen her? Ben knows he mustn't follow her with his eyes; he has no idea how revealing her presence will endanger her. But, stars, if only he could divine what she's planning.
Perhaps it doesn't matter.
All he wants is a moment, just a single moment with her. To ensure she knows, knows completely that in a life of chaos, she is his only peace. Only her.
Only Rey.
He can die with the fleeting feeling of her against him, if only she understands.
Ben tilts his head, awareness bursting, flooding, unfurling within him. "Love."
Snoke's eyes find his with shocking speed. "Love?" he sneers. "There's no such thing."
"You don't … you don't understand it," Ben whispers, with growing comprehension.
The broken old man scoffs with deep contempt. "Such a transitory emotion. Who doesn't feel it when he comes in a whore?"
That rips away any idea he'd ever had that Snoke had wisdom, had knowledge that he had ever needed. Because he's found release in many a woman, even as he sees now that he took so much even as he received nothing that his own hand could not provide.
He's never felt anything. Not until her eyes. He would give every fleeting pleasure he's ever felt if only he could hold her, talk to her, be with her. Ben is certain he would gladly give every base, pointless second of his wasted, broken life if only he could drown in her eyes for one more single ephemeral, endless moment of knowing he is hers and she is his.
Because until her, everything was empty, bloodless, almost as if he couldn't even see color until she opened his eyes and resurrected his heart.
And Snoke is utterly blind to the magic Rey stirs in his soul; the ancient creature's teachings now feeling almost juvenile in their hollow simplicity. The dark, the light, they must dance together.
Connection.
Love.
Everything both Sith and Jedi reject with something approaching fear when it was all the same damned thing.
He can't help it, he begins to laugh, his hand bracing his side. Rey's head twists to catch his gaze, her face taking on a perplexed expression. But she blinks and continues to gingerly circle Snoke's dais. The last thing he notices before Snoke demands his attention is her beginning to scale the large structure behind his throne.
"Enough!" the monster roars.
It's just too ridiculous. Luke, Snoke, even his mother … all his masters had been so wrong. All of them had demanded he choose when the choice itself was the fallacy.
"Don't you see?" Ben questions, trying to catch his breath.
"All I see is a failed experiment."
Snoke raises a frail limb, his fingers flexing, and, for the first time in his life, Ben readies to defend himself, gathering the Force in his hands. Lightning crackles between his fingertips.
Sighing, then tilting his head, Snoke's derision is plain when he spits, "Must you embarrass yourself further? At least accept my judgement with grace, Ben Solo."
A magnificent, slightly mad grin blooms on Ben's face as he braces himself to finally, finally show Snoke what he's really made of. He might not know how to stop Snoke, but he knows how to withstand. Rey has a plan, and he must trust her.
He almost welcomes the exquisite pain that twists his limbs. This, this he knows. The lightning. It's almost comforting, he can endure this and he's desperate to tell Rey how much he loves her, even as she screams in his defense. He wants to tell her how much he loves her, but all he can do is clench his teeth until they squeak. Ben tries to find her with his eyes, he needs to see her, the last fragment he can conceive. Her eyes find his as her lips form a magnificent scowl. She holds his gaze, her intent pulling at long-dead hope as she leaps from above.
Ben and Snoke are both startled by Rey landing squarely behind his former master, her arms swiftly moving forward, her belt held taut between her hands. Snoke can't perceive the dire end slicing into his throat, no awareness of this phantom's gravot.
Before Snoke can even react—or Ben can quite understand her intention—Rey pulls the leather tightly around Snoke's neck, her legs braced against the gleaming black throne as she pulls with all her might. His watery blue eyes fill with panic, his hands scrabbling at the shining obsidian. Snoke looks around wildly, trying to understand what's happening to him, but all he finds is his guards and Ben.
Time. He has to buy her time. His former master truly has no idea what's happening to him.
The lightning still jumps between his fingers, he must push back the guards, but all Ben can really see is the snarling ferocity on Rey's face—the pure hatred, and somehow, she's never seemed more beautiful.
So this is what it feels like to be chosen …
As much as he wants to bask in the pure acceptance he's feeling for the first time, a swell of movement catches his attention as the guards surge forward.
There's no real thought as the lightning streaks from either hand, pushing the faceless, nameless enemy to the edge of the chamber. They'll be back in the fight much sooner than he'd like, but he's given her time.
Grunting with one final heave of effort, Rey pulls her belt that much tighter; Snoke's tongue lolls out and his eyes grow vacant. Ben's brows shoot up when she grasps his mangled head and snaps his neck for good measure.
Snoke, his master, is dead.
Rey finds his eyes, and there's an odd moment of flashing relief, but as she begins to run towards him, she glints away.
She's gone.
And the crimson guard press forward.
A/N: I'm so sorry that this is a bit short. It just felt right.
Thank you, ArtemisBare and Silvergrain! This was the truly rare moment where I opted to go forth without many changes. And can I just say that is a monumentally shitty feeling? I 100% blame Anne Rice. Editors are the best, wild women!
Thank you, Readers! I'll do my best to post again quickly. We lost 6-month old kitten and it made me pull into myself. But writing is the only thing that keeps me going, so I'll hold my orange boy to my heart and keep finding a way forward. I am so, so, grateful for every single one of you.