Today: In the aftermath of battle, Poe feels like he's drowning.

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The Art of Drowning

Chapter 3: We're Mouth to Mouth and Still I Suffocate

"You still use the Dark Side."

"Were you expecting me to stop?" Kylo didn't look chagrined. At best, he looked bored. Poe knew him better than that, but he didn't have any strength left to be compassionate.

Poe hugged himself in a feeble attempt to chase off his sudden chill. It had nothing to do with the warm rain steadily soaking him.

Kylo looked wounded for a moment, before he covered it up with a scowl. "You can fret at me later. We're on a schedule."

Poe gazed back towards the liberated prisoners, they huddled together on the tarmac near a medium-sized First Order freighter. The healthier ones, still carrying blasters, stood guard over the frail ones, though there was nobody left to protect them from. They hadn't wanted to board the ship yet, though they too were getting soaked. The former prisoners, human and Twi'lek and Wookiee alike, seemed downright invigorated by the first droplets of water touching their gaunt faces in months, or years in some cases.

"I still don't like leaving them alone," Poe grumbled, though it was little more than a token complaint. They had a lightly armed freighter, but no TIEs, and they were deep in First Order space. They needed their X-Wings to make it home. He chose to ignore the niggling suspicion at the back of his mind that he mostly just wanted to get Kylo away from the civilians.

Kylo's sigh was distinctly irritable, and tension was rapidly returning to his body language. He winced when a sudden movement tore at the bacta-covered wound on his shoulder. "You've discussed it with them. Twice. The technicians need time to remove the trackers, the pilot needs to familiarize herself with the craft. BB-8 stays behind to help. We grab a speeder bike and are back before they're ready for lift off. If," and here he gritted his teeth, "you stop wasting everybody's time."

Poe looked up to meet his eyes, and he hated how vulnerable, hurt even he had to look to Kylo in that moment. "Forgive me," he choked out, "I'm still trying to come to terms with you committing a massacre."

In Poe's memory, Kylo's green blade blurred to red.

It had been raining, like on Jakku.

Kylo's blade cut through white armor like it was no obstacle at all; there was a chilling beauty to the berserker madness that held him in its grip. He was bleeding freely, but didn't seem to feel it. Kylo might as well have been dancing.

There was no compassion in Kylo's eyes, not even a hint of understanding. Just this darkness that choked Poe when he was merely looking at it. "You killed more people than I ever did when you blew up Starkiller."

"No!" Poe threw himself between Kylo and the group of cowering Stormtroopers, shoving hard against his chest to push him away from the three young men with stricken faces and too much white in their eyes. "It's over, Kylo, it's over! They've surrendered!"

Kylo snarled at him, and thrust forward his hand. One of the Stormtroopers rose into the air, he scratched fruitlessly at his throat. "I don't care!"

Poe swallowed against the lump in his throat. "But I didn't like it."

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Their ride on the speeder bike felt claustrophobic. He didn't want to be holding on to Kylo, or to sit with his chest pressed against his back.

There had been plenty of bikes, but it was still full dark. Poe wouldn't have been able to navigate the jungle at the speed Kylo did.

"I'm sorry. I wish you hadn't witnessed that."

Poe almost didn't hear it, and wasn't sure if he'd made it up. "Does Luke know?"

"He knows I can control it."

Somehow, Poe doubted Luke saw it as such. Far more likely he worried that pushing Kylo too far, too fast would send him running back to Snoke. Everybody seemed to worry he would go back. Poe alone wasn't worried at all. He understood how much Snoke had stolen from Kylo, from them, and the full depth of Kylo's hatred for him.

However, they forgot that being Dark and following Snoke could be two altogether unrelated things.

Poe tightened his hold on Kylo, he buried his face against the back of his lover's neck. "I knew you are still Dark, I just didn't want to see it." His voice was barely above a whisper, but Kylo had the Force and maybe he plucked his thoughts out of his mind half the time anyway. "I could feel it. I remember what you were like before, and how you changed…" He gulped. "I've loved a Darksider before, though I didn't know it at the time. I…"

He wanted to say it didn't matter. That it changed nothing. The words remained stuck in his throat.

"I'm sorry." Mostly just sorry that he couldn't say it didn't matter, and mean it.

They made it onto the clearing, Kylo braked sharply, veering the speeder sideways to come to a stop just short of crashing into his camouflaged ship. He had inherited his father's love for breakneck piloting, but Poe never complained. After all, he was no better.

They should be getting into their fighters, but a glance at his chrono told Poe they had made good time, and Kylo seemed to have come to the same conclusion, for he turned towards Poe instead.

Poe's gaze was cautious as he met his lover's eyes. He didn't flinch when Kylo's large hands framed his face, but he couldn't ignore the blood on his hands any longer.

"Poe," he said quietly, his voice pitched low. Earnest. Hypnotic. He didn't need the Force to claw his way into people's heads. Or maybe that was just Poe. "I never promised you I could return to the Light for you."

He hadn't, and that was the worst part of it. Poe didn't have anyone but himself to blame.

"You could try not having quite so much fun killing people."

Irritation flared up on Kylo's face, that sharp temper everybody on base had come to be wary of. He hadn't hurt anyone yet, but there had been close calls. Poe knew that nobody was more terrified of his temper than Kylo himself. "I could try that, yes."

Poe got onto his tiptoes and Kylo obediently crouched down, they pressed their foreheads together. Their breath mingled. "I love you," he whispered. "And that won't change. All these years couldn't change my love for you. But I don't know if I can be with you if you're like that." His arms tightened around Kylo's neck, and yes he was aware of the irony of clinging to him while he spoke of leaving him. "I can't do it, Kylo. I feel like I'm drowning… I don't want to lose myself."

There were few things Poe Dameron knew for sure, but he knew that he was fighting the good fight. He knew he was a good man, or as close to it as anyone in his position could get.

He wasn't sure if you could still call yourself a good man if you loved someone who wasn't.

"You promised!" Kylo growled even as he tore himself out of Poe's arms, and there it was, that fire, the madness in his eyes that had burned bright earlier tonight. "You can't leave me; I won't permit it!"

Poe raised his head higher. He didn't budge, didn't flinch. "And I won't permit you to make my decisions for me."

Kylo's hand was half raised, it trembled. Poe couldn't say if he was trying to go for his lightsaber or for telekinesis. A mind trick maybe? His hand dropped, and the man crumbled.

Poe's own anger faded as quickly as it had flared. He crouched in front of Kylo and ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair. "I won't leave you, sweetheart," he vowed as he leaned in close, and pressed a kiss to the top of Kylo's head. His hair was still as silky and soft as it had been all these years ago. "But I need you to get better, not worse."

The pitiful sounds Kylo made sounded a lot like choked sobs, but the man who had returned to him didn't want Poe to see him cry, so he pretended not to notice.

He looked at Kylo Ren in Ben Solo's Jedi robes, and wondered if they would ever be okay with the man he had become.

He didn't know if he could. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be okay with it.

Poe pressed another kiss to the top of his head, and another, until Kylo raised his tear-streaked face, and then Poe kissed that, too. Kissed his eyelids, his nose, his blotchy pale cheeks and his frowning mouth. "Let's get you home."

Kylo nodded. "I can fly. Just give me a moment."

He didn't want to leave Kylo alone, but he had different coping mechanisms than Poe, and had conditioned himself to deal with anguish on his own. Poe was still adjusting to that. Ben had been shy to seek his comfort, but never loathe to accept it.

"Okay. Tell me when you're ready." A last kiss to the corner of his mouth and he stood up, walked away to prep their X-Wings.

He hated himself a little bit for walking away.

Once they were in the air it was as if nothing had happened. Kylo sounded confident on the comm, firing off orders at the shuttle pilot till Poe teasingly reminded him that he was the flight Commander, and Kylo the Jedi Knight. It didn't deter Kylo, just earned Poe a snarky, "I'll be speaking to the General about that," and then he went right back to squabbling with BB-8.

Kylo still wore his mask as well as ever.

Poe tried very hard not to wonder if the face he showed him was just another layer to that mask.

The End

Thank you for sticking around for this wild ride!

Our boys have still got their fair share of issues to work through in a future installment, and I'd like to write at least a drabble from Kylo's POV - give readers the chance to get his side of the story.