(A/N: I'm so happy you guys are enjoying it so far! I'll be honest, this was supposed to be a one-shot, and then it got to be too long. So I figured, okay. No more than three chapters. But here we are at double that, and I have so far to take these guys before it's all done. Writing takes stamina, as writer will tell you, and you guys have granted me endless inspiration.
Please continue to share your thoughts with me through reviews. I really am more of a short story person, so this is a huge undertaking for me. Thank you all!)
He didn't like to consider himself a vain man, but perhaps he was. Perhaps he had to be to have made so many of the decisions that lay behind him. If the Light side of the force was all about selflessness the Dark had to require him to be a little selfish. That was logical. He fed off of his own passion and desire, and perhaps vanity was a part of that equation too. Or maybe he was just vain.
He had had a nice face, he'd always been told that growing up. His father's brow and nose, his mother's mouth and eyes. But nobody had told him that in a long time. Nobody, save a few, even saw his face anymore. Hux had once, begrudgingly, called him handsome, but it was not the same. It had been more of an admission than a compliment. He had worn a mask for so long that even he hardly considered what he looked like anymore, and with Rey...Well, Rey was different, wasn't she? She was the one who had given him the scar in the first place, and that wild swing had thrown her so far off balance that he'd manage to re-capture her. He'd only considered the scar as a sort of penance to be paid for bringing her aboard. Her freedom in exchange for a few hours in the medical bay. He wasn't sure how Rey felt about his face and he hadn't cared, because he didn't think about his face. He hardly even looked at himself in the mirror. Until Hux had brought it up. Now he couldn't take his eyes off of his own face.
Hux had had always done this. Picked at insecurities that Kylo didn't even know existed until they blossomed like some sort of disgusting weed. Hux had scoffed at his tactical skills, all the time he spent meditating, and the way he commanded his knights. He'd disapproved of Ren's mask, his illogical inhibitions concerning his family, and his crippling attachment to a defective weapon. Now he disapproved of even his appearances. He'd felt a twang of sentimentality back in the projection room, thinking that he might never talk to Hux again. Now he couldn't leave the man behind fast enough. Their argument had reminded him of everything that had driven them apart in the first place. Hux's only love was strategy and the First Order. Kylo Ren felt that he could accept that. He could leave him behind. Now he just had to work this anger out of his system.
He put his helmet back on, and left his quarters. As he crossed the hall to the training room he wondered if he should retrieve Rey. They hadn't even begun weapon training yet. Her natural abilities with the Force were so strong that they'd agreed to concentrate primarily on honing those. He was naturally force sensitive too, of course. He'd been top of his class, but he was nothing like Rey. Still, light saber training took years. Even a cursory course on it would be months long. So that left blasters for Rey, and she certainly wasn't the best shot, or her staff and neither knew where it was. So he would be the vanguard during their escape if it came to a fight, and Rey would pull weapons away from enemies or push enemies themselves away from behind him.
He turned to leave his quarters for the training room. Extra training time would be advantageous, Kylo thought, but her emotions had been silent for some time now. Perhaps, she was asleep, and she needed to do that as well. He would give her an hour or two, work off some steam, and then fetch her. He didn't want her to see him like this anyways. She hadn't seen him angry like this for a long time, if ever. He did not want her to.
When he reached TR-17 it was empty, though he could hear blasters from the connected shooting range. Probably new cadets. Their laughter and curses were almost as loud as their weapons, providing him with an excellent distraction from meditation. He would have to push himself to find his center this time, which was just as well. Just like any other muscle on the body the mind had to be exercised.
He crossed the room, pausing for a moment. He should have meditated in back in his own room, on second thought, then he could have removed his helmet. He was less sure about doing so here. Hux's comment still rang in his head and that would be impossible to forget if he exposed himself to the world, which meant meditation with the helmet on. A task that was by no means impossible, but would certainly be more difficult. His helmet was heavy, and the sound of his breath did nothing but distract him. Still, hadn't he just decided to push himself? Kylo crossed the room and sat in the corner, legs folded and hands on his knees. He breathed deeply. In the other room one of the cadets was bragging loudly. He grimaced and shut it out.
He let his breath be like the waves of some dark sea. They rolled over and out of him steadily, over and out, over and out, and he let himself sink down, down, down...Even as he descended he could sense the visions coming. Then it was not to be meditation, just a surrendering to the whatever the force and its tides brought down upon him.
He was limping through the cold, his hand clutching the wound on his side. The smell of smoke from the now destroyed oscillator filled his lungs. "How could he does this to me? How could he do this-" He was screaming it over and over, but there was no one to hear him. They were gone or they were leaving. Soon the planet was going to collapse in on itself, and he would be left here. The wound burned through him until he felt like a wildfire lost in the snow. Great skies, it hurt...
Something was pulling at his senses then. Someone. He whirled around, and there she was. His vision had jumped forward to a moment well into their battle. Her breath steaming against his face, her eyes closed, beads of sweat pouring down her cheeks despite the cold. He was in awe of her, her vulnerability and strength. The wound oozed through his shirt, and the wet blood froze almost instantly in the cold air, he retracted most of the force he'd been applying against her light saber. His light saber. He would not strike her down. He could not. Bright eyes flicked open, and she moved her body down, forcing his saber low...
There was sand around him now. Red sand. He lay in some long forsaken arena. Miscellaneous droid gear was scattered around him. Data chips, blaster arms, sensors, and even heads were scattered all around him. He sat up, and a hot wind blew. The sands shifted, revealing more pieces of the droid army. Off in the distance there was a gleam of white, Kylo Ren's eyes narrowed, trying to make out whatever it could be, but the sun was too bright. He stood and began to walk. Something crunched under his boot, and he withdrew his foot. A shattered eye socket stared up at him. A human eye socket. Only its cheek and half of a crooked grin were visible above the sand, the rest was still buried beneath. A hum like wings sounded behind him.
Over the din a low voice shouted at him. "TRAITOR!" He looked up to see the black figure, hazy in the heat, before him.
He sat in a tree, a branch above a younger version of himself. His father called to him to climb down..
"No!" the child cried, swinging his legs in midair, "I don't wanna!" A breeze lifted his unruly, black hair, and he remembered feeling, briefly, as if that wind might lift him away too. In all honesty, he had been too afraid to climb down by himself, but he had made a show about how much fun he was having. Eventually, Chewbacca had had to climb up and carry him down for dinner.
Ren's eyes opened suddenly. Half expecting tears to be dripping down his cheeks. There were none, but his chest felt heavy with the weight of the memory. Rey could sense him. She was awake now, and she was concerned. He tried to think positively in order to convey that he was alright. Her incredulous relief washed over him. He sniffed a sort half laugh. That notion that someone would or even could be worried about him was a novel one. But that was the sort of person that Rey was. She was gruff and lacked diplomacy, but she cared. It was a weakness, certainly, but Kylo Ren still took pleasure in the fact that he numbered among one of her very few weaknesses. He was not alone in her good graces, he knew that. There was the droid and the former Storm Trooper, maybe some others that he wasn't aware of...but she hadn't had time to make many friends, and she certainly wasn't in a place to do so right now.
Perhaps, not so long ago, back on Jakku she would have felt at ease being alone. Somehow that had shifted, though. Her encounter with the droid, the deserter, or maybe even Han Solo had changed her. They'd shown her what it was like to not be alone, to be a part of something. Perhaps, she would show him. Perhaps...but the likelihood that he could go back to the resistance base with her was slim. It was more likely that they would have to part ways.
And then he would be alone again.