(A/N: I realized last night that while typing the last chapter on my phone ((YES I'M CRAZY)) my autocorrect repeatedly misspelled "Anakin". SORRY. I know how it's spelled, but I didn't catch it at the time. So I'll change it. Other than that, have some more fluff because I'm evil and these babies don't know how they feel about each other yet.)

He didn't see Han Solo's face in his dreams. In fact, he hadn't even seen Han Solo's face when it had happened. So much adrenaline and sorrow was pumping through his veins in that moment that what he saw were simply blurs of light and motion. The world had faded away. It was a horrifying thought, but killing Solo had been like going to sleep. What he dreamed of instead was the man's hot breath and the sensation of his saber pushing swiftly through the flesh and ribs and out through the spine. He'd smelled the blood and roasted tissue, and then he'd cast the man that had once been his father down into the oscillator's pit. He hadn't even watched him fall.

He felt as if he was possessed most nights. He felt like Ben Solo was some ghost who inhabited his body with increasing frequency. The echoes of Ben's feelings bounced around inside of him with no release, but it was true what he had said on the bridge. Ben Solo was dead, he was here but he no longer drew breath. Kylo Ren had killed him. And maybe Kylo Ren was also near death. He felt that the knight from Jakku had also basically perished in the chaos of the past three weeks. He was not entirely dead, but his breaths were numbered. So who was he going to be when the knight disappeared from this world? He swung back and forth between the boy and man, unable to find a middle ground that felt totally correct. Finding something outside of both identities was such an extreme that it seemed impossible.

He was still being torn apart. He was not sure that it would ever stop. A long time ago Snoke had comforted him with the idea that this feeling would cease if only he could destroy and forget his past life. Snoke had envisioned something great for him. He was to be Kylo Ren: The Conqueror of the Galaxy, but he had never been that man either. He had simply taken his name. It was time for him to come to terms with all of the lies he had been told by Snoke as well as the ones he had told himself. Killing Han Solo had brought him nothing but grief. Where was the peace he had been promised? Where was Kylo Ren in all of his fully realized glory?

Kylo laid on top of his sheets trying to quiet the sensation that he was about to murder another self. Kylo Ren would still be alive, beating his fists on old wounds as long as he stayed on this ship. He might never die if they made it back to Snoke. His master was powerful, he was not sure that he was strong enough to resist him face to face. But he could not think of that. They would make it out. His pent up anxiety was agitating Rey, a person unused to dwelling on problems. She simply attacked. A strength and a weakness. She was losing sleep because of him, and while he, with all of his training, could go for days with very little rest, she was not yet so fortunate.

He could feel her ache for sleep. Almost hear her scream at him to be quiet. He tried, but as their training progressed and a plan had begun to form, the knight was all too aware that he would need to know who he was. He had to figure it out so that he could present it to the rebels who, like it or not, would be his new allies. And they needed to leave soon.

With every day spent under the Supreme Leader, Kylo Ren felt less and less passionate about the cause. He had come to realize that Snoke had pushed that light saber through Han Solo just as much, if not more than, he had. Snoke had whispered to him from the cradle that he should not be content. Snoke was the one who had pointed out every reason he should have been miserable. Snoke had sent to murder countless innocents. Snoke had led him to believe that finding and destroying his old master would be to destroy the last imbalance in the galaxy. The fire that had made him fight for Snoke was fading quickly.

He had murdered his father only to discover that he didn't know what this price paid for. The path that Snoke had laid out before him was murky, but the end was clear. His father had told him so many truths on the bridge, and this was no exception. Snoke would dispose of him when Kylo Ren had disposed of all of his remaining family. When there was nothing left for him to pay and when he finally realized that the price had been too steep all along the Supreme Leader would kill him. What Snoke hadn't accounted for was Kylo Ren realizing he could not pay the price after he'd barely begun. There was still a chance to save what was left of his family. Neither Luke nor Snoke would be correct in mapping his destiny. He was taking the responsibility and the initiative of creating his own. If such a thing could be done.

That thought satisfied Ren. He allowed himself a small smile. It would be difficult, but it was possible. He simply needed to get out of here first. He needed to get Rey out of here. The reality of their escape would be intense and stressful, but the idea of it calmed him. His eyes closed, his consciousness faded. Somewhere in the distance Rey sighed in relief.

Kylo Ren felt himself walking onto the bridge, dropping his helmet...but he could not wake himself before it happened. He lived it again to completion, his father gasped in his ear, and then he awoke. His sheets were cold with sweat and his knuckles dug into his bed's steel frame. Rey was panicked too. He could feel the tightness in her chest as she struggled to breathe. At this hour it was likely that she had also been asleep, so the dream had startled them both.

Without thinking he was out of bed, pulling on his boots and gloves. Everything was rushed except for when he pulled his shirt back on. The wound from the bowcaster was still sore. He had been granted the finest medical attention of course, but there was little they could do for the burn that was left after his treatment. That would take time. After putting his helmet on he was out the door. Kylo Ren always walked quickly, but tonight he walked faster until the panic from Rey was almost hot inside his chest.

A storm trooper stood a few feet away from her door, probably slacking off during rounds, and Ren snapped at her to continue patrolling. She saluted lazily, and he could almost see her eyes roll. He waited until she'd turned out of the hall before entering Rey's room.

Rey's anxiety dissipated slightly when he entered, though she hadn't even looked up to see him. He was not yet used to the sensation of having her trust him, but it felt gratifying. He was not allowed to bask in the gratification though, the girl was hyperventilating. She'd swung her feet onto the floor and her toes were white from the cold. He removed his helmet and knelt before her at the side of her bed.

"Take a deep breath."

Rey's wide green eyes were watery with desperation. She clutched her chest and wheezed. He could feel her will to calm herself, but she was unable to do so. He could only assume that his nightmare had brushed against her subconscious, but since their foce bond was undeveloped it was unlikely that she had had the same dream. Maker only knew what dark thing her mind had created to give body to the fear and desperation he had felt.

He looked down to her trembling knees and put his hands gently on them to steady her. "If you cannot calm yourself, will you let me?" She gave a shaky nod, and he waved his right hand quickly by her head. He thought of an island in a sea of blue, pushed the thought into her own mind, and she was asleep before he caught her head in his arms and lowered her down to her pillow.

Slowly he hoisted her legs into bed. Her legs and feet were bare, but still warm. She had only just woken up, after all. Her legs were heavy with muscle, despite her size. He had felt her run in her dreams before, sand whipping behind her. He had assumed that her dreams had exaggerated her speed, but perhaps not. He knew so little about her, yet she was all he had in the galaxy. It seemed unfair to call her a friend, neither had said the word aloud, but she could have pushed him away after discovering the bond. Instead, she'd done the opposite.

He tucked her in, crossed to other side of the bed, and sat next to her over the blanket. He would not keep her asleep as he had when he had first captured her, the day they'd first met. He had left her unconscious for hours, pacing around her unable to work up the courage to release her into consciousness. But he needed to stay. Hopefully, when she awoke he would be able to explain why she'd awoken so violently.

She did not wake after a few seconds, and not even after an hour, as he had assumed she would. She'd found reprieve from her sleepless nights and he would not take that away from her. After nodding off a few times he had stood and paced the room. His back hurt from falling asleep while sitting up and he longed to return to his own bed, but he also didn't want to leave her alone. Especially if he had another dream. So he paced and yawned, and eventually sat with his back against her window. When he fell asleep he knew what would happen, but the exhaustion pulled him and he couldn't help but...

And he was awake again. Kylo had barely closed his eyes when Rey's own sudden awakening startled him so badly that he nearly jumped up. The desperate look was back in her eyes and she panted while looking wildly around the room for a few moments. He didn't move. He couldn't until she finally began to slow her breathing and sat up in bed.

"What happened?" his voice was high and his throat was tight.

Rey put a hand to her head as if feeling for fever. "I don't know. I had a dream. A bad dream."

Kylo crossed the room and sat down next to her again. He reached for her shoulder and she did not flinch. He put his arm around her and she did not pull away. Something close to relief flooded through her, but the sadness the radiated from her was almost palpable. She was thinking about her dream. He wondered briefly if she had had his dream, but that was impossible. Rey had been far away when it had happened. She might have dreamed of Han Solo's death, but surely it would have been from her own perspective. Surely...unless this bond was stronger than he thought. There was a sharp pang in his chest.

"Have you forgiven me?" He knew he didn't have to ask, he could reach into her mind just as easily, perhaps even easier. He owed her this, though. He could not only take responsibility for his future, he had to be accountable for his past. At least with her. They had talked very little about Han Solo since he had first brought the subject up a week ago, but he knew that she knew what he was talking about.

After a time she spoke. "I haven't." His chest tightened. "But I don't think that you did it. So... really I haven't forgiven the man that killed Han Solo," she turned out of his arm so that she could look at him, "I mean, I don't think that man was-is you. I've felt you...at night...reliving that pain. You regret what happened. You miss him. The man that walked out on that bridge to meet Han Solo," she tried to take a breath but she could not control the shaking in her chest. The tears began to fall. "The man that killed my friend was not you." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him. "That man was not you. He is not my friend. I don't know that man, but I know you. That man would not have gone to such great lengths to try and save me and escape from this place. He would not let me in his head."

She was right. At least he wanted her to be. The hesitation he'd felt about killing Kylo Ren was gone, he wanted him dead and buried. Her thoughts so neatly echoed his own from before that he wondered if she had actually heard him. Perhaps, feeling his emotions was enough to discern his dilemma, but it was doubtful. They shared a connection, but they could not see into the other's core. The layers they pulled back from one another were numerous, numerous enough that she could trust him despite all he had done, but she could not see his motives or his desires. Rey had to skirt around them, viewing them from every angle and facet except directly. She knew he held no ill intent towards her or her friends, but she could not see his actual intentions. Perhaps, she saw too much good in him because of this.

He did not want to think she was wrong. And besides, another thing she'd said stood out to him. She had called him her friend.

He embraced her again.

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Edited 1/29/2016)