A/N: Like I stated previously, short chapters until they're not? I'm sure they'll fluctuate as I create the story! Nothing more to be said, however…other than I appreciate you all taking the time to review!

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just screw them up with the purpose of entertaining others.


Don't Bring Tomorrow

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Chapter Two

'It's all because of you.' Her voice echoed in his head like he had been standing in a long chamber, bleakly lit, the accusing tone grating against something inside of him that burned, writhed in silent fury remaining unspoken as her voice faded away.

"Yes, it is." He curled his fingers into his palm, felt the tingling warmth left behind from her smaller hand and rolled onto his back.

The air in the room was thin with silence once again, as it had been when he dragged himself to his chambers, fought off his clothes and let the full stream of scalding water beat against his face, scorching the still healing scar she had given him.

It was a gift, he'd told himself the first time he braved the mirror to see the burn, the deep groove of cauterized flesh that started on his chest and snaked upward over his collarbone and even higher still. It was a stark reminder he had lost. To no one, to that girl who came from some junkheap planet with nothing but sand in the crevasses of her clothes and desperate hope.

Hope. Kylo closed his eyes as he heard the word in Ben Solo's mother's voice. A weakness that he should have eradicated on his own, one he thought had been eliminated…one he closed himself off from so he wouldn't feel the last of her fade away into stardust. There was no need to feel her heart stop beating, to feel her brightness in the force simply not exist any longer. She had not been the weakness to him Han Solo had, but it had still been a mistake.

Another mistake, another lesson that he was granted to learn on his own, in secret away from Snoke's prying mind and the First Order's needs. Needs that were now his own, plans he could create, fulfill and drive to the very edges of the galaxy. It was time for old things to die, he had said, but first he needed what was left of Snoke's army to pull the very last of the rebellion to the ground. To crush hope in every sense of the word.

Even though the last of the Jedi had died, the spark had withered, there was still that singular ship. That loathed reminder of Han Solo the girl claimed as her own, that flew still just to taunt him and contained too much to stand in his way.

Too much to distract him from what had been started.

No, there was no going back.

Trailing a single finger over his cheek he could almost hear that girl's cry of fury towards him. One as determined as the shouts she had shown the Praetorian Guards as she cut them down. He thought of the look in her eyes the first time he invaded her mind, to the look in the snow, flashing red and blue as the world crumbled around them.

In the moments of that battle, as he felt his blood drain from the wound in his side, as he fought through wave after wave of nausea, the cold sweat that threatened to freeze on his clammy skin, he remained fierce, determined. The traitor, FN was nothing, struck down without effort, but the girl…

The girl who stumbled, who struck out with her entire form, who cried out in her desperation in each careless strike towards him, only pulled at his curiosity. And something else inside of him that was drawn toward her.

Splaying his fingers across his face he shielded his eyes from the light above him, breathed evenly against his palm as he fought sleep, fought the lull toward the quiet oblivion. He wasn't ready to let go of the wispy remains of the girl he could feel in his mind, of the mental image of her deep brown eyes spewing hatred, wavering with her confusion, solidifying with her determination, and softening with her acceptance.

They spoke to him as the Force did, they told him what he couldn't see in her mind, what she tried to hide away. Those eyes were the gateway to his salvation, her extended hand, what would pull him into the light by her side.

But in the snow, in the darkness of the woods where the cold wind burned the skin, where she pulled the force, gathered it inside of her and used it against him, he saw the crack in her soul. There lurked anger, hate, bound together by the Force around her as she struck him again and again. It had felt like waves of electricity, burning through him, melting his resolve, weakening his tired body as he stumbled, as he made mistake after simple mistake—like a rookie caught in the gravity of a prodigy. And when he fell and she stood over him, he knew that his equal in the light also felt the darkness.

And it was darkness he could feed.

Outstretching his hand toward the ceiling, he curled his fingers around the light above him as the pressure grew in the air. The container rattled as the Force bound it at his command, wrapping around his desire like heat waves from a desert mirage, then it cracked, splintering until the brightness within it was exposed.

It was darkness he could draw out of her.

Closing his fingers in towards his fist, the light imploded and left him in the shadows as the blue lines of hyperspace flashed by the singular window of his room.

It was darkness she would be consumed by, as he was. Creating a new equal, a new destiny, void of the balance a broken Jedi and the dead Supreme Leader spoke of.

He had seen it when they touched, and now it was only the matter of time between them that kept them apart.

And whoever had bridged them once again gave him another gift…because now, not even the stars could get in his way.

Closing his eyes, Kylo let his hand fall back to the bed where the lasting tingle of Rey's touch remained as his mind gave into sleep, and the last sound that came to him was her pleading voice, a whisper in his mind.

'Please don't go this way.'


A/N: And which way is this story going? I really have no idea either, but it'll be fun to see! Thanks again to those who review, you give me new writing life and inspiration!