Sunlight… Rey closed her eyes and tilted her chin, savoring the heat on her face. She could hear the Yarhls calling to each other in the trees nearby.

Why couldn't it always be this way?

As if in answer to her thought, a familiar fear seized hold so abruptly that she gasped.

It was all wrong, all of it. Master Luke was wrong. Mother was wrong. She'd seen the senators and how they wasted time, posturing to one another as Raiders burned another city, as people suffered, as children starved. They couldn't FEEL it. They didn't wake shaking and screaming in the night.

Fear and anger brought the dark, Master Luke had cautioned. Bitterness and hatred did not a Jedi make. She clutched her head as though she could squeeze the thoughts from her head.

Night time, and the whispering voice had come again. It made promises to her. It told her that her pain came from denying the Dark side, that she had only to accept who she was and the war inside her would be over. How she wanted to! How she wanted to believe that it was true. The dark side isn't what Master Luke tells you it is. He doesn't know, how could he?

She was so close—so close to letting go of the thread of light. There was really only one option left. She lifted the light saber with a shaking hand too large to be her own and placed the emitter over her heart. Her finger trembled above the activation plate.

She had to do it. If she didn't do it now, it would be too late. She had already seen visions of what might happen if the darkness within her overcame the light.

"Ben."

Master Luke stood in the doorway, his face sorrowful. Her heart leapt at the sight of him. She hadn't realized how much she missed her master. At the same time, her veins burned with unexplainable anger and hatred. She felt as though she were being torn apart.

When she spoke, the deep tones of the voice belonged to the Monster.

"Master Luke, please… please do it for me. I am not strong enough. I'm afraid. I don't know what I'll do if—"

"That is not the way of a Jedi. You must fight it, Ben. You are stronger than you know."

Her entire body convulsed with the hatred that surged through her, the light saber hilt fell from her hand. Master Luke did not understand. He would never understand what it was like.

"I am not a Jedi!" she screamed. "I will never be a Jedi!"

Rey gasped, and opened her eyes to find the masked visage of Kylo Ren only inches from her face. Startled, she lashed out, striking the side of his helmet, which bounced across the ground and rolled to a stop, empty.

Her foot throbbed as the memory of what happened in the Resurrection Field quickly returned. She sat up slowly, recognizing the light-headed feeling that came from too many days without food.

Nearby, the monster still slept, though without the mask, it was difficult for her to remember that he was a monster. He appeared even taller stretched out on the ground, with his long arms crossed over his chest. Even in the chill air, beads of perspiration had formed on his pale face, and his forehead wrinkled as though something troubled him greatly.

As she watched, his lips moved, mumbling something she couldn't make out. It occurred to her that if a monster like Kylo Ren could have nightmares, they must be very troubling visions indeed.

Curious, Rey inched closer to his sleeping form. Sweat had caused tendrils of his long black hair to stick to his forehead and across his cheek, and the urge to smooth the few strands away caused her to reach out her hand before she realized what she was doing and snatched it back.

"You're awake," he said, without opening his eyes.

"Apparently, so are you," she muttered backing away.

"And your injury?" he asked, sitting up and wrapping his arms around his knees.

"Hurts, but I suppose I'll live."

"Can you walk?" he clarified.

"I think so, but, do you… do you have any food? I don't know how long we've been out here, but it feels like a long time, and I don't think I've eaten anything since before the raid on Ka'vec."

"Hunger is a strong motivator."

"You sound like someone I know back on Jakku. I won't argue that. Hunger is as strong motivator, I suppose. I've seen good people do terrible things because they were hungry," she said and sighed.

"And you?"

"What about me?

"You were only a little girl when you were abandoned on that wasteland of a planet. I've seen it in your memories. How did you survive for so long? Did you not do terrible things yourself?

"No!" Rey answered, cringing as she realized that she had replied too quickly and too angrily.

She fidgeted nervously under his gaze for a moment, before she shrugged.

"Well, not too terrible. I might have nicked a portion or two, but Niima Outpost was different when I was little. It was never an easy place to live, but back then, there was a market. Traders would come sometimes, and you could get a fair value for your salvage. There were more people back then—other children even. When times were bad, the scavengers would help each other out. That was before Ungar Plutt took over. He chased out all the competitors. He set the trade values."

"And there you waited and hoped," he murmured, and rubbed the side of his chin thoughtfully. "Such a pitiful existence, yet you don't feel hate for the ones who abandoned you."

"No. There had to be a reason for it. They meant to come back—"

"A miserable childhood—"

"No! Well… not always. When there were other children there, I played with them. There was an old man who visited sometimes and told us stories. I loved that."

"Stories about what?" he asked.

Somehow he had moved closer without her noticing, and though he didn't look at her when he asked, she could again feel genuine curiosity from him.

"What else? Stories about the Clone War- about Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader, Emperor Palpatine, the Jedi, the Force… we used to play pretend that we were rebel fighters afterwards."

He scowled darkly at this, and picked at a stray thread from his cloak. She had been careful not to include Han's name, for those were always her favorite stories.

'Tell me one," he demanded. "Is isn't likely to be true, but I am curious. I wonder what children in far off wastelands think they know of those people."

Put off by his tone, Rey picked up the discarded canteen from the night before, and took her time unscrewing the cap to take a drink of water. It didn't help the empty feeling in her stomach.

"It was too long ago. I don't remember any," she shrugged.

Kylo Ren did not call her bluff. He frowned again, but after a moment, he reached under his robe, snatched a small black pouch, and tossed it to her without saying a word.

Rey opened it to find that it was full of soreltack—a dried meat often carried by Resistance fighters when they undertook long missions.

She snatched a piece and put one end into her mouth, jerking her head to the side to tear off a bite. Soreltack was tough, but it lasted longer than just about anything. As she chewed, she turned her attention back to the dark figure hunched beside her, and wondered why he did not eat. She wondered also why he had asked her for her memory—not merely taken it as he had before.

"I suppose I might remember one," she admitted, her mouth still full, "but it's more like a song."

"How is it 'like' a song? It is a song or it isn't."

"It's like a song, but really, it's just a way to keep rhythm for a clapping game I used to play."

He didn't ask, but he glanced at her and raised one eyebrow.

"You know… clapping games?" she prodded.

He shook his head slowly.

Rey scoffed, but shoved the rest of the Soreltack in her mouth, brushed her hands off and held them out to him—one palm up, the other palm down. When he did not offer his hands, she gave an irritated sigh and snatched both of his wrists.

"Like this!" she said, positioning his gloved hands, and then slapping them with her own. "And then like this," she positioned and slapped again. "And the last one is like this. There. Now you do that over and over."

"Ridiculous," he sneered.

"Well, I can't tell you the rhyme if you don't do it," she shrugged.

She held her hands out in the first position, and snapped her fingers impatiently. After a few seconds and a long dark look, she realized that he would not comply.

"Alright. Fine," she said, clapping her hands together to mimic the pattern of the game. "It goes like this:

Oil for the droids, trudging through the sand.

A bandage for Luke who's lost his hand.

Soldiers for the princess from Alderaan.

Death for the Jedi master Obi-Wan.

Gold for the smuggler and his co-pilot.

A meal for the Sarlacc in its pit.

Rest for the old one, wise and green.

A mask for the boy from Tatooine.

Now, Light is the Force that's rarely seen,

And Dark is the way of Palpatine

But grey is the balance in between."

Rey froze, interrupting the clapping rhythm.

"There's more, I think, but I really can't remember it. I think it's been too long," she admitted.

Kylo Ren snatched his hands back and looked away from her.

"Get up, scavenger. We still have a long way to go," he ordered, and stood with the quick, graceful movement of a trained fighter.

Rey gave another frustrated sigh before reaching for her boot and pulling it grudgingly over her throbbing foot. When she saw him stoop to retrieve his helmet, she scrambled quickly to her feet.

"Wait, STOP!" she cried, running towards him.

Kylo responded in an instant, his lightsaber out and blazing in his hand as he dropped into a defensive stance, and scanned the darkness before them. He held his other arm out, directly in front of Rey's face, as though keeping her back.

"Where is it?" he demanded.

"What? Oh! You thought…? No, I—I didn't see anything. It's just that I… it's the helmet. That mask again. I just hoped you weren't going to put it back on," she stuttered.

The light saber hissed as the blade receded.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because you almost seem like a human without it," she replied. "Almost."

In answer, he quickly bent and regained the mask, pulling it over his head without a moment's hesitation.

As he walked away, Rey suddenly remembered the band around her wrist, and hurried after him.

Her foot hurt. It throbbed angrily with every step she took, but at least it seemed that he was moving slower than normal. Perhaps he was tired. When he spoke again, she shivered. The change in his voice was glaring. When he spoke through the modulator, he sounded detached and emotionless.

"We're coming to the Brittle Hills now. You'll need to be very careful to follow me as exactly as you can. The trails that go up to the mountains are marked, but narrow."

"What should I be careful of?" she wondered.

"The Brittle Hills are hollow, and the ground, in places, is very thin. It can shatter beneath your feet, and if it does that, you will have a long way to fall, and a messy death."

Rey grimaced.

When they had walked far enough for the faint light of the Resurrection Field to fade away, the ground did indeed begin to slope upward. Kylo lit his blade and held it aloft, and in the red glow, she could see a stick driven into the ground. Several feet away, there was another.

As they climbed upward, the hill became steeper, and the markers led them on a zig-zagged path.

"All that he did—All that he achieved…" Kylo Ren muttered.

"Who did what?" she called.

"Lord Vader. He was one of the strongest Force users to have ever been born. He conquered more planets, won more battles than—well, all that, and when children sing their foolish songs, he's little more than a boy with a helmet."

"You're little more than a boy with a helmet," Rey hissed under her breath.

"What was that, scavenger?" he stopped and turned slowly toward her.

He took one step toward her, and suddenly, the ground began to rumble. A crack appeared from beneath his foot, a blacker line of black on the dark ground.

Was it an earthquake?

The crack raced out from beneath his foot and splintered, shooting into a dozen different directions at once. It sounded like glass breaking.

"Get back!" he ordered.

Rey almost did, but then her fingers flew to the band.

"I can't!" she realized. "I can't. If it breaks, and you fall, I die all the same."

Kylo took another step toward her, and then another. The ground shattered.

He lunged as it broke. The ground beneath Rey's feet did not crumble. It stayed intact. If he could make it, he would be safe.

She reached for him, but realized that he had not had time to gather himself for the jump, and had not jumped hard enough. He was not going to make it, and she could not even use the Force to help him.

His hand reached toward hers, and somehow, perhaps through his own Force use, his fingers brushed lightly over hers, and fastened on her band. Rey wrapped her hand around his wrist and held tight as he fell.

Her arm and then her body was ripped to the ground from the weight of him, but she had somehow managed to hold on, stretched out on her stomach and dangling over the chasm as she held on with all her might—but her fingers were slipping.

"Hold on!" she ordered him.

But he did not hold on. Her wrist burned as he twisted the band. It fell away, and then so did he. Both were immediately swallowed by the darkness below.