He was doubled over on the control room floor of Crait's rebel base, the sound of Stormtroopers sweeping the stronghold sounding in the distance.
Within his hands were the dice that hung from the Millennium Falcon. A memory came to him involuntarily, filling his senses before he could block it.
His small palms opened and closed as he reached for dice that dangled just inches from his grasp, teasing. He let out a string of incoherent words, eyebrows knitting together in a frown as he seemed to move no closer to the item of interest.
"Here, sweetling," a voice murmured from behind him. His vision suddenly filled with the image of a Princess, hair in a braid behind her neck and smirk on her face. Her fingers collected the dice and she gently brought them down to him.
"Maybe one day he will be able to use the Force to grab them, don't you think Leia?" His head turned to face the familiar voice, a young Smuggler becoming the focus of his vision. The Princess moved behind the pilot's chair and looked down at him, mimicking the expression on the Smuggler's face.
Adoration. Pride. Joy.
Kisses were pressed to his forehead as the dice pressed against his palms, giggles and deep laughter filling the air.
The sounds still rung in his ears as he finally forced the memory from his mind, his eyes glancing back to the dice just as they faded from his hand.
Another trick, he admitted, defeated.
With his eyes scrunched closed in pain he exhaled to try and steady himself against his memories, and against the events of the last twenty-four hours. His shoulders slumped, and he leaned backwards slightly.
When he opened his eyes again she was there, her own orbs trained on him in pure anger. He saw it pulsating from her, the darkness pouring from her being.
No, he cried instinctively, not understanding why he was filled with fear for her.
His fear was quickly replaced with her rage and he inhaled sharply against the emotion she had not felt from her since their first few encounters.
You killed Luke, she screamed at him through their minds. You killed him.
Kylo opened his mouth to convince her that he hadn't killed him, that Luke wasn't there to begin with, but in his hesitation, she clamped the connection closed.
What was the point in telling her that he had not killed Luke? He may not have struck a blow to his physical form, but he had tried.
He had tried with every cell within his body.
When he realised that it was just a trick, that Luke was ensuring a safe exit for the last of the resistance, he was unforgivably livid.
It was only as he felt Luke's death ripple through the force, like a kick in the chest, that he was finally relieved. Elated. Overjoyed.
That was until he saw her eyes and until he felt the anger rolling from her. The darkness within seemed to be growing and he felt breathless thinking about it.
He did not revel in the sight of her surrounded by darkness like he had expected, like he should have. His relief had diminished, the elation evaporated, and his joy was replaced with fear.
Why? He screamed out to no one, wishing that Rey had not broken their connection, so that his anger would not boil within only his mind.
Because you did not intend to quash her light. The thought amplified within his mind, upturning the furniture and destroying everything he had become so familiar and comfortable with.
Once all had been broken, realisation dawned on him so hard that he didn't know what he was left with.
He never wanted her to turn away from the light. The offer he made her to rule with him, to take over the galaxy with him was never a dichotomy; it was never about choosing light over dark or vice versa.
He wanted everything they were to meld and collapse into each other, just as it had in the Throne Room. Just as it did when they touched, and when they kissed.
She thought he wanted to turn her, to fill her with the darkness that had become a part of his being, but he didn't want that. Seeing her only moments before cemented that within his mind.
He just wanted her, by his side. He thought about the darkness perforating the air around her and it felt so wrong.
When did the darkness ever feel wrong to him? How could it ever feel wrong?
It was only in meeting her that he felt that turmoil. He had never wavered in his vocation for the dark side until this point. What was so important about her that caused him to feel this way?
Another subconscious thought called across his mind, and finally the dust settled.
Black and black only makes black. White and white only makes white. There is no balance.
Kylo rose to his feet, staring at the ground as the furniture begun to rearrange itself within his mind.
He could not fully turn away from the dark, and she could not truly turn away from the light. It seemed that there was no compromise, no bridge, no path where they walked together, but as the space within his mind finished refurbishing, he saw it.
He saw it, as chaotic as day and as clear as night.
He saw it, as peaceful as the jungle on Takodana and as damaging as the deserts on Jakku.
He saw it, as the explosive light of each star within the galaxy and as the calm darkness within the space in between.
He saw it for what it was, and it was all grey.
Thank you so much to Shiranai Atsune, Loveless1310, AngelfromBeyondBelow and je'wella12 for the reviews and suggestions! I really appreciate ya'll taking the time to comment, it means a hell of a lot to me!
I know this is a very quick update after the second chapter but there is no way I am going to ignore the motivation to write when it hits!
I have decided that I will write a story succeeding the events of TLJ in this archived fanfic, for example, as chapter 4 onwards. The reason why I will do it like this is because the content of these chapters and the struggles within Kylo will flow through into the story I write, and I feel as though creating a new fic on this site is a little messy. If this does not sound okay, and you think I should just start fresh in a newly published story, let me know!
Otherwise thank you again for reading, and I can't wait to upload more soon!