AN This chapter is a work in progress - more may be added to the segment - maybe not - we'll see how I sleep on it. Sorry for the delay! I worked an 80 hour week last week with two all nighters so I'm closer to normal now. And I'll apologize now, I really didn't edit this yet. Love Love.

Sleep Deprived-ly Yours,
- M

Dark blood circled the drain swirling with the steaming water, barely visible on the dark tile. Muscles clenched, tightening against the pain. Fingers knotted in dark fabric.

A single day – all that had happened in a single day had re-set the stage, destroyed it really. A single day had lit the curtains on fire and scorched the ceiling, bringing the roof crashing down on the entire place. Not more than a few hours after Kylo Ren had left her room Neera found herself all but dragged from her quarters, informed that Starkiller was being evacuated and she had been interred to the care of General Hux.

Hux practically burst into her chambers flanked by half a dozen troopers and another uniformed officer.

"You will be escorted to the Finalizer." His voice was curt but thin and knowing him as she did, she could feel the anxious energy flowing through him. He was executing a thousand pieces of the evacuation in his mind, keeping track of every detail and sure of every ship and squad that would make it off of the base. Today he was the General, he was exacting and commanding and the lives of others were in his hands, hers among them.

"Yes sir." She said flatly. The officer at Hux's side moved past her and unceremoniously began pulling her clothes from her closet and jamming them into a bag.

On board the Finalizer she had been placed in one of the few rooms not designated for emergency troop barracks for the evacuation space. A wide pedestal filled with ashes was at the far end of the room, Neera watched it steadily from her place on the floor, as though it was about to reach at to her. The pedestal with the face of Darth Vader was no more inviting and despite how comfortable the chair near it looked she couldn't bring herself to converse with the death mask.

As she neared the ship her felt her chest grow tighter, she could feel the rage of another building up inside her. Thought it was far away, she felt confusion, anger, and the unbridling of great power, both light and dark.

It had been hours since she had been left alone in Ren's quarters, she'd spent her time reaching out trying to figure out what the hell was going on. For his obsessive and controlling nature she was shocked that Ren's chambers offered no extensive monitoring or sophisticated communication systems. Slowly she felt a presence, at the edges at first but rapidly growing closer. Violent, erratic, and tense, a wounded Kylo Ren was en-route. A mixture of relief and fear flowed through her as she stood, as if to brace for his arrival. She reached out to him as he approached, offering solace and warning him of her presence, whether he felt her or not was unclear.

The door slid open. He was half soaked, the snow having long melted against his skin, his helmet in his fist. His hair was damp with sweat, blood and melted snow. His eyes were wild and tired. Blood caked his neck and shoulder, the seared wound started at his brow as a thin red line and widened to a gaping gash as it reached his collarbone. She could see the scene in his mind, no hiding; he wanted her to know, to see. She saw the battle, the girl, and felt the searing pain as her lightsaber slashed at his skin.

The transport shuttle staggered through the air as the ground nearly fell away beneath it. He gripped the frame of the ship, blood still running down his face and shoulder. His less damaged hand cradled the blaster wound he had worsened in battle, beating at it to remind himself of the pain.

At the image of his fist beating on the wound at his side everything seemed to speed in reverse then halt at a single moment. She stopped breathing, pulling her reaction deep into her mind as far away from him as possible. Not quickly enough she feared, he saw. He saw a flash of heartbreak, disappointment and fear when she saw Han Solo's hand slid across his son's cheek one last time.

She almost repeated his name, his true name, but she stopped herself knowing what it could do at this moment. All of this had passed in a heartbeat, a silent and tenuous understanding of the past day passed between them. He walked slowly into the room moving past her and palming a lock on the wall. A door slid open revealing the more private areas of his private quarters. She followed him, breezing past him as she entered the bedchamber, moving towards the sink in the bathroom. She pushed the knob on the faucet, hot water streaming into the basin. He stood at the foot of his bed removing his belt and lightsaber, pulling his gloves off, his hand shook for a moment before he was able to still himself, clenching his fingers into a fist and flexing his fingers out.

His father's hand slid across his cheek and he watched him fall, expecting the bond to fall away with him. Nothing changed, it felt like the first time he'd taken a life, it felt…he felt it. He had hoped for something different.

Neera dropped the cloak from her shoulders and loosened her tunic, undressing to the fitted sleeveless top beneath. She pulled the pile of small towels from a shelf nearby and began soaking them one by one in the hot water before glancing over at Kylo. He sensed her gaze on him and followed her path into the bathroom, yanking the clasp on his cloak as he did, letting it fall to the floor on his way. He slowed to a stop inches from her, watching her hands automatically reach out to him. He winced as she peeled his shirt from the dried blood and burned skin. Slowly she removed the layers of dark cloth revealing his bare chest, focusing on each movement

She drew a wet cloth from the basin and squeezed it before bringing to his neck, pausing before touching him. Finally she raised her gaze to his face and he looked back at her for a moment, his expression unreadable, but she felt his permission to continue in the release of the tension in his shoulders. She pressed one hand to his chest and with the other gently began cleaning the wound and wiping the dried blood from his skin. He relaxed into her touch a bit but she could still feel his heart slam against his chest. She could feel his pain finally reaching his brain, processing, and thinking about what he had done. He wasn't in the moment anymore and his failure was coming down on him. He had failed to rid himself of his connection to the light; he had failed to overcome his obstacles, and his sacrifice hadn't brought him closer to the clarity he had been seeking. His breathing quickened and she stopped as bringing her free hand to his cheek, looking up at him, directing his gaze towards her.

"Let me in." She said gently her grey eyes locked onto his. He reached up gripping her wrist and pulled the cloth from her hand. He kicked his boots off and leaned forward reaching around behind her to turn the shower faucet on. She kicked her shoes off, as he took her other hand and they guided one another under the stream of warm water. The blood slowly began to wash away running down his chest, and as he pulled her closer to him, faded rusty rivers ran across her hands as her fingers wound around his upper arms.

She saw every moment of the past day pass by slow and hazy. Her fingers gently ran along the edge of the fresh wound at his shoulder. Actual healers would be able to do much better work to fade the damage on the outside, keep the wound from scarring as badly or from getting infected. For her part, she did her best to calm his mind as he allowed her into the recent torturous memories. His father's face passed intermittently through the memories of the day, other faces too, his mother, Skywalker, the girl. He pulled her tighter against him as he leaned against the back of the shower, his hands sliding from her arms to her waist, water streaming down between them washing away the blood on his face. She reached up wiping a smear of red from his cheek.

"You're disappointed" he said, his fingers digging into the exposed flesh just above her hips. She sighed relaxing against him, watching him carefully for a moment before ghosting one hand across the blaster wound at his side. He restrained a hiss of pain and looked at her once more, her grey eyes dark and sad as she watched him steadily for a moment before her gaze drifted to the scar.

"So are you."