Fatigue had won over Rey's stubborn desire to stay awake, so she lay on the cold ground in that surreal state where dreams and reality can't be told apart. The cavern was damp and freezing. The chill had penetrated all the way to her bones, making her teeth chatter uncontrollably. Unable to withstand it any longer, she silenced her better judgment and curled into a tight ball against Kylo Ren, his feverish body offering her much needed warmth. She had clumsily draped his tunic over both of them, its dark scent almost chilling her further than the cavern itself.
She lay awake for a long while, unable to sleep, listening to Ren's ragged breathing beside her, feeling the uneven rise and fall of his chest against her back. She was still reeling from the exhilaration that had ran through her during the healing experience. Despite her apparent confidence when she'd first suggested it, Rey had very serious doubts about her ability to cauterize an open wound with nothing more than her faith in the Force. And yet, the energy had flowed so naturally between them, for a few moments she had felt… omnipotent.
She remembered how her hand had hovered over the bleeding wound, how Ren's fist had tightened around her wrist and, in seconds, the intense heat at the palm of her hand had begun working its magic. His entire body had tensed up for several agonizing moments, jaw clenched tightly against the searing pain of the cauterization while Rey observed the process in awe, marveled by the raw intensity of her newfound ability. While his fingers around her wrist transferred the energy, it was her hand which guided its power.
The laceration was practically sealed by the time Ren had loosened his iron grip, his body slumping limply to the side. It took Rey a couple of seconds to realize that he'd passed out. She had observed his still form at length as it laid on the ground in a rather awkward positon, a curtain of damp hair partly covering his face, which appeared far more relaxed now save for the remnants of a frown. Unwilling to disturb him further, she'd just sat beside him, staring at her hands, incapable of getting over her amazement.
The bond between them was getting stronger. She could feel it. She could also sense him fighting it just as clearly as she could feel her own reluctance. But that didn't seem to matter. There was something bigger than either of them pulling them closer, an unforeseen side effect of their combined abilities, she supposed. The Force had so many layers unbeknownst to her, it was like the color palette in the Jakku desert—an endless sea of beige, orange and red melding together into every possible shade imaginable.
Rey was starting to drift off again when she noticed Ren stirring beside her. He was mumbling something unintelligible, though by the sound of his voice she could tell he was in distress. His body jerked at one point and she sat up, turning to face him. He let out an anguished whimper while his face, now visibly flushed due to the high fever, contorted into a tortured expression. Caught in the clutches of what must have been a terrifying nightmare, he appeared much younger and vulnerable.
He thrashed once again, his breathing becoming choppy and labored, and finally prompting Rey to shake his shoulder in an attempt to wake him. He pushed her hand away, stuck in his own disturbing reality.
Perhaps it was too frightening to contemplate, or it might have been her desire to keep the promise she'd made to him, but for some reason, Rey was disinclined to dive into his nightmare. So, when she heard Han's angry voice followed by General Organa's accusing one surfacing from his subconscious, she felt a lump in her throat and her heart tightened.
Every time I look at him I see the shadow that was your father!
Why don't you just say it, Han! Sometimes you wish he'd never been born!
Rey felt a sudden yank into the abyss and, an instant later, Kylo Ren woke up with a sharp gasp. He was drenched in sweat and clearly disoriented. He took in his surroundings, trying to bring his ragged breathing under control until his stare fell on Rey, and his mind finally grabbed a hold of reality.
He sat up, quite ill at ease after realizing she had been witness to his weaker side. Running a hand through his hair, he let out a long sigh and closed his eyes, letting his head rest back against the cold wall.
"I wasn't prying." For some inexplicable reason, she felt the need to explain.
He offered her a faint nod of acknowledgment. "I know."
It was a simple response that spoke volumes. Even his tone had been mellow. His belligerence had taken the back seat and he seemed far less ominous and a lot more like a troubled young man. And, although Rey was convinced this new aspect to his personality was just a fever induced mirage, she couldn't stop the steady plummeting of her own defenses.
"You should try get as much rest as you can," she said, trying to keep concern out of her voice and failing miserably. He raised a skeptical eyebrow at her unexpected sympathy, making her feel rather self-conscious and forcing her to add, "I just think that if we're going to break out of here any time soon you need to b—"
"Don't fall into that trap," he cut in.
Rey frowned, her eyes searching his. "What trap?"
"Empathy, comradery, friendship…" he said tiredly. "Whatever you might think is developing between us. It's not real. It's not meant to…" he bit his lower lip, his voice lowering to a whisper. "Let's leave emotions out of it."
Rey was taken aback by his bluntness, but she didn't buy it.
"But, isn't that what you wanted from the very beginning? A connection? Wasn't that what you longed for in that interrogation room?" she shot back. "Why else would you have bothered to show me your true face? Why else would you have longed to search my mind before attempting to retrieve the information that you so desperately needed? Why was I your 'guest' and not your 'prisoner', Ren?" Her tone had turned increasingly defiant as she glared at him. "You are not the cold hearted dark lord you believe yourself to be."
He studied her silently for a long moment. "Is that a fact?"
"You are nothinglike Darth Vader," she hissed with an irrational willingness to antagonize him. "There's still light inside you. I can feel it!"
"What is it you expect from me, Scavenger? You need a confidant? Do you want to be my sidekick?" he murmured slightly over a whisper. "Or is your desire more carnal in nature?" His smile turned wicked as his eyes roamed sensually down her body and then trailed back up to her face. "Is that what you really want? Have you ever even—?"
"Shut up!" she snarled, cheeks burning.
There was a surge of arousal that swept over them, raw and undeniable. They both felt it, both let it settle back down. Unable to hold the intensity of his stare any longer, Rey turned her head to the side. She knew his intent was to rile her up, get some sort of viral response out of her. So she decided not to give him the satisfaction and, instead, she lifted her chin once again and held her ground.
"I want to hate you just as much as you wish me to," she said evenly. "And, believe me, I've tried! I'm sure I did at one point, but…"
Kylo Ren remained impassive, his expression unreadable.
I need you to hate me…
The words lingered between them, unspoken, but as real as the darkness that surrounded them.
"You should've never left Jakku," he finally told her in a tight whisper. And, though he didn't say anything else, she had the uncanny sensation there was a hidden message behind that simple statement.
What are you not telling me?
As counterintuitive as it was to want to know him on a deeper level, Rey couldn't help but wonder if earning his trust would lead her irrevocably down the path to the Dark Side. Reckless as it might be, she couldn't even bring herself to care. She was beginning to crave the power that came with that side of the Force and, to her utmost surprise, the excitement of having Kylo Ren as its conduit.
"You feel it too, don't you?" she whispered. "I can't quite explain it, but…"
"I felt it the very first moment I saw you," he spoke slowly, his voice caressing each word. "I knew right away it was you."
What does he mean by that?
A deep chill ran up Rey's spine. An avalanche of questions came rushing to her mind. She was about to voice several in a row when they heard the unmistakable metal clanking of cell doors and a loud voice saying something in a foreign language as one of the canyon miners, as they had offhandedly baptized them, gradually approached their cell.
A tray was shoved through the narrow opening at the base of the door with two bowls of food and a soft leather pouch filled with what Rey presumed to be water. Hunger made them reach for their bowls right away, each devouring the first bite with ravenous ferocity. The second Rey figured out the consistency of what she was chewing was dead flesh, she spat it back into the bowl, completely nauseated.
Ren watched her stoically as he ate the contents of his bowl in silence.
"Don't look at me like that!" she admonished with a scowl. "You find it just as repulsive as I do. I know it!"
"That's irrelevant. You need sustenance. I suggest you eat your food."
Deep down Rey knew he was right. Who knew when they would come across another multi-nutrient portion? They had to take what they could get or risk starving to death. She sighed, closed her eyes and tried not to gag as she swallowed the disgusting contents of her bowl in record time. The sounds of other creatures wolfing down their food could be heard from the adjacent cells, along with the occasional burping and clanking of bowls against the ground.
Once finished, Kylo Ren placed the bowl back on the tray and took several long swigs of water from the leather pouch. "We're getting out of here tonight," he said wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Whether it had been the food, or the brief recovery time, Ren seemed to have completely broken the recent fever and gained some of his strength and color back. His vitality was really something to be admired, and Rey wondered if perhaps the Force had something to do with his ability to sustain and pull through serious injuries. She watched him as he got up without major difficulty, a minor wince the only sign he might have some residual side pain, but that was to be expected. The fact he was so sure he could pull off a break from that hellhole that night was testament to his current physical condition.
His arrogance had rubbed her the wrong way ever since she'd met him, however, this time she found his self-assurance rather comforting. "Do you have a plan?"
"Of course," he replied, making her question sound ridiculous. "We're going to cut through those bars and crush anybody that might try to get in our way."
"Can we use the Force to pry those open?" she asked, pointing her chin at the metal bars that enclosed them.
"We probably could, but there's even an easier way," he replied through a lopsided grin. Leaning forward, he reached behind his back and produced Luke's lightsaber.
"You had it this whole time!" she gasped in astonishment. "I thought they had taken it!"
"No. They only took mine. And now I'm going to get it back."
"Why didn't you say anything?" she accused, anger flaring.
"I'm telling you now." He extended the hilt of the saber to her in an unexpected offer. "Here. I've seen you use this thing. I'm sure you can hold your own."
She took it without a second's hesitation. "What about you?"
"I can handle a bunch of backward canyon beasts without one, trust me," he sneered. It was obvious he was still sore about his latest defeat. As obvious as the fact he partly blamed her for it.
"I haven't used one of these since…"
Her words trailed, evaporating into a memory that still haunted them. It sent them back to the day in which their fates had been sealed. A clear reminder of the precise moment when they had become each other's nemesis.
"You'll do fine," he said dryly. "Just tap into whatever feeling gave you such dexterity the last time."
"You mean, an irrepressible desire to kill you?" she quipped.
He turned to face her, their height difference at such close distance making her feel small all of a sudden. "Is that still an effective source of motivation for you?" he asked her.
The answer to that question was a double edged sword. She was well aware of that. Either way she chose to respond, she was bound to be led down a dangerous path. There was no denying that somewhere along the line there had been a shift to their dynamic. It had been so subtle, she hadn't even seen it coming.
Rey lowered her head, unable to meet his eyes for some reason. "No," she finally uttered.
Kylo Ren took a step back, and she couldn't help but feel a hint of disappointment on his part, only it wasn't really disappointment. It was something else… A feeling she couldn't quite place.
"Make sure you stay alert," he said gripping one of the metal bars and inspecting its sturdiness. "The saber can probably cut through these like butter. Just keep in mind we won't have much time to—"
Whatever he was going to say got cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps. Their escape plan was modified on the spot, perhaps for the best. Kylo Ren turned to Rey with a warning glare and a reassuring nod.
Get ready…
Tightening her grip on the hilt of the saber, Rey focused on the steady footsteps as they got closer and closer, ready to fight the moment the door to their cell opened. When their visitor finally came into view, her aplomb vanished, surprise rising instead.
Just as disconcerted, Ren turned to her and silently commanded her to strike. Rey, however, stood in place, paralyzed, the hand wielding the lightsaber hanging limply at her side.
[TBC…]