Reviews are baaack! Yay! I'm posting a new chapter to celebrate - as if I'd need an excuse! Enjoy, and leave me a comment if you like it ;) Xx

There were days Kylo didn't show up. Luke and Rey would wait for him, but as the hours passed and he still failed to make an appearance, Luke's face got grim, and Rey threw herself in the most exhausting and demanding physical exercise she could think of, to drive out the anguish Kylo's absence provoked in her. They both knew exactly what was happening to him.

It came a time when he didn't show up for three days in a row. Rey and Luke didn't talk to each other, both equally worried and lost in their thoughts. Rey didn't want to admit it, but the concern was eating away at her. She was surprised to realise how much her perception of Kylo had changed in the month they had spent training side by side. She didn't hate him anymore. She hadn't forgotten what he had done, but she had come to a better understanding of his past and of what his reasoning behind his actions had been. He had never killed for pleasure. There had been occasions where he had let his negative emotions overpower him, and the darkness and bloodlust take full control. She had seen in his mind episodes where his cold, detached order to "kill them all" had caused many innocents to die. But she had also seen the manipulation, the pain, the desperate need to be numb and unfeeling. She now knew that he had always killed because he thought it was the only way to achieve what was right – what he was led to believe was right.

Once, while they were on a short break from training, Luke had mentioned the destruction of the Hosnian system. Rey had instantly felt a wave of sickness so powerful she had doubled over, dry-heaving. She wondered how Kylo could bear to keep standing motionless, given that the nausea came directly from him. She had lifted her gaze towards him, and she had found him already looking at her: his eyes were two black pits of sadness, guilt and impotent rage. She knew in that instant that he had never wanted the death of billions of innocents, but he'd still carry their blood on his hands forever because he hadn't done anything to stop it. She didn't hate him anymore, because she, or anyone else, couldn't hate him any more than he already hated himself.

When the waiting became too much to bear, Rey went to Luke and told him she would be going to Kylo.

"It's been three days. It seems impossible that he's been unable to reach out to me even once. Something's wrong."

Her master nodded. "Be prepared, Rey. Ben's absence could mean that the torture is too unbearable to focus on your bond, but it could also be a trap. If he wasn't able to hide you… then this could be Snoke trying to lure you. Be careful."

"I will, Master."

Rey sat, closed her eyes and slowed down her breathing, preparing her mind to grasp the thread of Force that would take her to Kylo.

Rey opened her eyes and found herself in a corridor, the walls bare and metallic grey. There were doors on both sides, but she heard muffled noises coming from the one at the bottom, so she headed in that direction. Just as she approached the door, it opened abruptly and a man with short, bright ginger hair came out; his pale eyes were animated by a malicious glint and there was so much blood spattered on his face and bare chest that Rey almost felt sick. Oblivious to her presence, he strode off down the corridor and she watched him until he disappeared. Then she hesitantly stepped inside the room, fearing what she would find.

Her eyes adjusted to the dim light, and she could make out a human figure kneeling on the ground, arms spread open, each wrist chained to a pole. Her heart sank. Kylo, she thought. Kylo! Wake up! she hurled at his mind. He remained unresponsive. Rey noticed that he was wearing a heavy metal collar that was chafing his skin. Just by looking at it, she felt queasy: it was a Force-suppression collar. These people are monsters, she thought, completely horrified.

Strangely, there wasn't much blood on Kylo's face and torso, but as soon as she circled him she gasped in horror: his whole back was an open crimson wound. Rey started frantically thinking about ways to help him, when she heard footsteps approaching: two Stormtroopers came inside the room, freed Kylo from his restraints and unceremoniously dragged him out.

Rey followed. In the middle of the corridor the stormtroopers opened a door and got him inside – Rey recognised the room she had visited many times. They threw him on the bed, where he landed heavily – and luckily – on his stomach.

As soon as the door was locked, Rey crouched down hastily near Kylo's head. She reached out with her hand, unsure if their connection would allow physical contact. Their projections had been getting more and more solid and stable, but contact? That was another level of skill. Nevertheless, the urge to touch him and make sure he was alright was so strong that Rey didn't hesitate: she concentrated, thinking solely on the sensation of her skin lightly caressing skin, of the cool air clashing with the warmth of a human body. When Rey felt Kylo's damp, silky locks and feverish hot forehead under her fingertips, she exhaled, exhilarated and relieved. She gently moved his hair away from his eyes, looking around for something, anything to help with his wounds. Kylo usually appeared on the island with his wounds ugly and red, but they were at least dry and clean.

How in the world does he do that on his own?

The room was bare, as usual. There was only a chair with a well-worn, long-sleeved black shirt crumpled on it. Rey suspected it was the only one he had left, but she had to do something to stop the bleeding. She was about to use it to dab at his back, when a thought hit her: the Force! Kylo must have used it to heal himself! The collar had to be a new development.

She had never attempted to close a wound with the Force before, but she lightly squeezed one of his hands, murmuring, "I'm going to heal this mess."

Rey managed to seat on the edge of the bed, positioned her hands above Kylo's back, took a deep breath and concentrated on the calming and healing powers of the Force. She felt warm ripples of energy flowing through her body, exuding from her fingertips and slowly but surely laving Kylo's skin, removing the dried and fresh blood, leaving the skin cut up but clean; then she focused on putting it all back together, and gradually, painfully, the severed muscles and skin started to stitch themselves back together. It was exhausting, but Rey kept going until she could no longer sustain it. Then, completely drained, she looked at the result: the skin was still red and raw and most likely hurt like hell, but the larger, deeper wounds were all sewn back together.

Satisfied, she got off the mattress, sitting on the floor with her back against the bed; feeling a bit dizzy, she tried to catch her breath. After a little while Kylo made a noise, and another, and Rey saw that he was waking up. She turned towards him, and he was blinking, and it took him a good minute to focus his glazed eyes on her face.

Then, surprised, he whispered, "Rey… what… are you really here?" His tone was full of wonder, but also unsure, careful, as though he didn't want to risk deluding himself. Rey's heart broke a little.

"I'm really here, yeah. How does your back feel? I tried to heal it but I don't think I did a good job," she told him.

Kylo shifted experimentally, and winced. "It hurts, but it feels much better than I remember it." He exhaled. "You shouldn't have bothered. You need to save your strength"

Rey smiled faintly. "Save my strength, for what? You're here… there's no point in training without you."

Kylo snorted, amused. "Right. You only need me for training."

"Well, of course. What else did you expect?" But there was a warm smile in her voice, and Kylo could feel it clearly.

"Why did you come, Rey? You know exactly what happens to me when I'm stuck here."

"You stayed away for three days."

"You must really miss training," he said, his lips curling upwards.

Chuckling, Rey took his hand. "You never reached out to me, Luke and I… we were worried for you."

Kylo Ren smiled at her. He actually smiled, and Rey's heart swelled at the sweetness of it. She gave a sharp intake of breath, instinctively brushing his forehead, and she entangled her fingers gently in his dark locks. "Go to sleep, Ben."

They both froze. Rey's heart started beating fast, reacting to the intense, almost feverish gaze Kylo fixed on her. Calling him Ben when he had smiled had been so genuine, had felt so right… but he clearly disagreed, because his face darkened, his gaze lost in the memory of the last time someone had called him like that. Rey felt something like a fist squeezing her heart without mercy. Han Solo had called him Ben, not a long time ago.

A single tear rolled off his cheek, then he spoke: "I am not Ben anymore. Ben's gone."

Rey sighed, pensive. "You know, I wouldn't be so sure." She smiled at him, her eyes glistening. "Rest, now."

She kept on petting his hair, and soon Kylo Ren sank into a deep sleep.

Rey stayed with Kylo for a while. He slept on peacefully, while she enjoyed the feeling of his soft locks under her fingertips. From time to time she pressed the back of her hand to Kylo's forehead, checking for a fever.

"I hate them. I hate them for what they're doing to you," she murmured, glancing at his tortured back.

I shouldn't hate. Hate leads to the Dark Side. But I do. I do.

Suddenly, she remembered Luke: he didn't know what was going on yet, and she'd better go back to her own body and talk to him.

When she opened her eyes she felt her whole body stiff and cold. She noticed the light had changed, and she found that she was famished. Luke appeared with some food and water, and told her she had been away for more than twelve hours.

While they had dinner Luke asked about Kylo, and Rey explained everything that had happened, including the fact that she'd been able to touch him.

"I'm proud of you Rey. You're getting more and more attuned to the Force," he smiled at her, looking pleased.

"And I managed to heal most of his wounds. I really hope I succeeded in sparing him some pain. He looked… he looked so helpless and broken, I… I think I saw Ben. Not Kylo."

"That's good. Ben's good. Don't you agree?"

"Well…" Rey knew Luke wouldn't like what she was going to say. "Whenever I get glimpses of Ben I see someone who's sweet, someone who's emotional, but above all, I see someone who's experiencing incredible pain, and not just the physical kind. I think… I think Ben Solo is still a scared and lonely boy. Ben did not get a chance to grow into a man. Kylo did. Kylo is the strong one. I can see now why he turned to the Dark Side: Ben just felt too deeply. Master… I really see the person he could become, the Ben Solo he would have been if…"

"If he weren't a Skywalker," Luke finished for her, his face grim.

"Yes. So I'm not sure he can come back from the Dark Side. He needs it. He needs it because without it he would succumb to the pain."

Luke regarded her with an undecipherable expression. "Are you saying you're giving up on him? That you no longer want to try and draw him to the Light?"

"No! I– I will still try. He needs the Light. But he also needs the Dark. He's… he's the shadow in between," Rey answered, unconsciously echoing the words Kylo had said to her not long ago, on the beach.

A flash of triumph appeared on Luke's face, but it came and went so fast that Rey thought she had imagined it. He didn't comment further, so she rose, bidding her Master good night.