Something was different.

Something had changed.

From the moment Rey woke, still huddled under the dark bedding, she could feel something – someone nearby; like a spark in her veins, she suddenly felt alive for the first time in a week. The very air surrounding her told her that she wasn't alone, vibrating with an energy that she recognized immediately; an energy she'd been searching for with her mind but could never find– as though a barrier had been erected between her and him.

Kylo

She could feel him; how close he was – just a few steps away in the other room, a singular wall in-between them.

He's alive.

But she had to be sure, she had to see him – had to know that he was okay. Stripping the covers off, Rey wasted no time as she approached the room, stopping in the doorway as she caught sight of him sitting on the edge of his unmade bed. He looked –

Normal

Apart from his mussed hair and slightly skewed clothes he appeared just the same as she had seen him several days prior. He didn't look starved, injured, or tired – he looked as if he'd just woken up from any ordinary sleep, as if he'd been there the whole time and he'd never left to go and face Snoke.

That was when his head swiveled round to face her, his eyes instantly locking onto hers as he stood from the bed – quietly waiting for her to say something.

He knew it was bad just from seeing part of her face last night, but now, as Rey stood in front of him – eyes wide in fear or wonder he couldn't tell – it was clear just how sick she'd made herself. Her chestnut waves hung wildly around her thinned face, unkempt and knotted instead of thick and shiny as it had been before he left. Her skin held only a hint of tan beneath the pale and sallow tone it had taken on, and her eyes seemed sunken into her face, the dark circles lining them making them look smaller, duller. The bright flecks of gold and green that had lit her eyes before had vanished, making them appear grey-brown when he knew full well that they were meant to be the brightest hazel he had ever seen.

The Rey before him was not the Rey he had left behind, she seemed a pale specter – imitating the girl that had been there before. Kylo didn't know what to say, what to do, he figured she was pissed – but then, the look that passed over her face as she stared back at him didn't look angry. It was relief. The eyes that had been wide with – fear? Was she frightened of him? For him? – softened and relaxed as she inhaled as though she hadn't breathed in ages; a deep shuddering breath that seemed to rack her lungs and then –

She was running at him.

His whole body tensed immediately, expecting an attack. He should've expected it, anticipated –

She barreled into him - thin arms wrapped around his abdomen, nails burrowing into the fabric of his surcoat as she forced the distance between them to close. She pressed her thin face into the fabric at his chest, hiding her expression from him, breath slowing as she clung to him.

Kylo did NOT know what to make of this. He wouldn't have been surprised to be met with anger or confusion, maybe even sadness – she had seemed desperate as she asked him not to leave, and he had been gone for seven days. But he never would have anticipated Rey, the girl who was once supposed to be an enemy – launching herself into him, holding him in the tightest embrace he had ever felt. It was more forceful even, than the bindings Snoke so enjoyed, thrumming with the anger and hatred of the dark side.

He stood stock still, with his arms out in front of him, hovering there – not sure where to place them. He couldn't drop them with Rey's arms around his waist, but was it okay to do what he wanted? Was it okay to hold her as she held him? He didn't even care that she was pressing in on fresh burns, he blocked out the stinging pain – it was worth it for this. Kylo didn't want to think about it anymore, he didn't care if she reacted badly, all he knew was that Rey was here, pressed against him and he wanted –

No, he needed to hold her close, to assure himself that she was still there, that she was real and alive despite how much her sickened appearance scared him.

"You're back." Her words, quietly whispered like a prayer against chest, he felt her breath where it warmed the clothes and skin underneath – the last push he needed.

His arms went around her shoulders, pulling her even tighter against his body, as he pressed his face against her hair. Despite its untidy appearance, the strands that tickled his scar were fresh and clean and smelled of soap. He breathed her in, feeling every part of her where she fit against him – assuring himself that she was, indeed, okay. He'd been punished for days on end, yet at the sight of her, it all seemed to fall away – the memories, the burns, the pain. His only concern was her.

Dropping his hands so they rested on her biceps, he slowly, gently, pushed her away from him, so he could look at her once more.

He could've done anything, or said anything, yet, as he peered down at her, a gentleness in his features that spoke nothing of his position, all he said was six simple words.

"Rey, why haven't you been eating?" there was a careful note in his voice as he asked the question, as though he wasn't sure he was allowed to know such things, but she could see the resolve harden in his eyes, as his grip grew tighter around her arms.

"Tell me, please."

She turned her face from his, in embarrassment or shame she wasn't sure, and he dropped his hands, so she could step away, turning her back to him as she did so. Rey didn't want to tell him the truth, but she couldn't deny her appearance or the full tray from last night still perched at the edge of the table. How was she supposed to explain to him, to this person she was supposed to hate that she hadn't eaten, that she couldn't eat because of him – because she was sick with worry, fear – guilt?

She could feel his eyes on her, training on her fists as she clenched them – ragged and bitten nails biting into her skin. There was no use in denying the truth, and she tried the best she could to keep her voice steady as she spoke, wincing slightly as her voice cracked with tears.

"You…it's…was…because of you."

"What?" his voice, pained and ragged even with just one word, came from behind her and she was quick to turn back towards him. His face was ashen, like she'd just stabbed him in the gut.

"No, I… I didn't mean it like that, I" –

She took a deep breath, grateful that he stayed silent while she collected herself – if she was going to manage, it would have to come all at once or not at all.

"Every time the meals came I tried to eat, I tried to force the food down, and every time it got a little bit harder until I couldn't stomach it anymore. I'd see the food and I felt sick with guilt, nauseated because I was here, and you were…were there. You were gone, and all I could imagine was those things holding you, torturing you because of me – because for some reason you decided to protect me, to go against your allies to keep me safe. I did this. I'm the reason you were gone for so long and even then, you made sure I would be safe here – clothes, food, security – all the while Snoke was doing, Maker knows what to you."

She took a shuddering breath then, before she finished, not caring that fresh tears were making tracks down her face as she did so.

"I couldn't eat because I was sick with guilt and fear that you weren't eating, that you were in pain, that you might be…. Dead."

Kylo listened to her words, shock steadily building in his chest as he did so. She felt, guilty? Because he had killed the people he had forcibly brought her too. Because he had taken her prisoner and his leader, the Supreme Leader had ordered Hux to beat her half to death. If anyone was to blame it was him, for the pain he had caused her- for taking her against her will, for throwing her into the First Order's world without thinking of the consequences. Yet here she was, gaunt and broken – tears freely streaming down her face, no longer trying to hide her emotions as she told him that she felt guilty. That it weighed on her so much, that she held so much fear that the simple act of eating had made her sick.

No one had ever cared this much, not even his parents, but here was Rey, who cared to the point of making herself sick, for the man who took her away from everything. He was still staring silently back at her, eyes wide with surprise and some other emotion, when a mechanical sound drifted through the room, admitting a service droid with a tray full of breakfast foods.

He shook his head to clear his mind, mussed hair tossing back and forth as he did so, as the droid menially replaced the dinner tray and rolled itself back out of the room. He looked towards her then, hoping he wouldn't upset her any more when he asked,

"Will you eat now Rey?" –

"Please."

A pause as she hastily wiped her tears with the back of her sleeve before showing him a small smile.

"Only if you eat too."

She'd meant what she said, and waited for him to eat the first bite of fruit before she tucked in. Seeing him before her – seemingly healthy and unhurt, eating their shared breakfast – she found it all too easy to indulge in the food that was placed before her. She didn't feel sick as she had before, the fruits and bread going down easily, her empty stomach relishing in their nutrition. But even then, she felt uneasy as they cleaned the tray of it's contents; she couldn't help but wonder what had happened to him over the past seven days. He'd been gone so long yet he looked just the same, he didn't even seem tired. She kept that thought to herself though, not wanting to push him for answers, as he stood from his place at the table.

"I'll return later but for now I have to sort out…. deal with, well…ugh" he grunted as he struggled to explain what he meant, running his hand through his dark locks in frustration.

"Force." He visibly cringed. "I have no idea what happened, who was put in charge of military operations after… Hux, so I suppose I have to go and find out…."

Despite the reasoning as to why Kylo was in the dark, Rey couldn't help but be amused at the strained note in his voice at the thought of confronting the new Hux and she – giggled. His eyes turned to her, not in anger but in simple disbelief at what he was hearing, but she couldn't help it. In that moment he sounded so much like a teenage boy dreading his list of chores that she couldn't help but crack a small smile.

It was beautiful, hearing her giggle like that – even if it was at his expense. Already she was looking more like the girl he knew; her eyes shone a little brighter, the gold returning to their depths and the smile across her face lit her features, making her skin look a little less pale, a little less sallow. He attempted a frown, but couldn't help the small twitch at the corner of his mouth that meant he was suppressing a grin, as he donned his cloak and retrieved his helm.

"When will you be back?" she asked with emphasis on the word.

He paused in the process of placing the metal contraption over his features,

"Before dinner."

He finished obscuring his face with the mask and stepped out into the fluorescent lit hallway, turning back to meet her eyes once more before he left, and turning away when he remembered how much she hated staring back at the dark pits where his eyes should be.