A/N: I would've had this out earlier but I was distracted by life and by writing a kylux fic.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy! There's a bit of a plot push in this one - next chapter we'll get into the meaty bits and really move forward! Whoo!

Thanks everyone for reviewing, you have no idea how much it means. Thank you!

Weep, little lion man

You're not as brave as you were at the start -

Kylo stood on the main bridge of the Finalizer. Command consoles ranged before him, crew members standing or sitting in front of them. They were odd however, almost see-through and ghostly, movements stilted and unnatural. Every few moments their features shifted to something quite unreal, something ghastly and unnatural - inside his mind was horribly disquieted but he found he could not react outwardly to the scene. Beyond the great windows at the front of the deck, Kylo could only see a field of dim red, fluctuating in saturation as he watched.

"This mission is crucial to the further success of the First Order."

Hux was standing next to him, his voice smooth and commanding. Kylo turned to find him looking as he once had, clean cut and dressed sharply in his uniform - it was almost a shock to his senses. He couldn't remember when Hux had lost that edge, sometime during the prison stay, or before. At the betrayal, perhaps.

"Do you understand, Ren?" Hux looked at him then, and though his face was perfectly poised Kylo knew that he was enjoying - had enjoyed - the moment. He enjoyed being the one to remind Kylo of his orders, to remind him that he was the one being held accountable.

"Don't forget what the Supreme Leader said," Hux continued, but then something changed. Everything changed. The bridge became gilted in dark chrome, the figures of the crew members twisting in strange and horrible ways. The red roiled like a living being, coiling in through the windows in a mass of tendrils, splattering bloodstains on the floor and the walls and the ceiling as it reached towards him. Hux spoke on, but his voice wasn't his own

There will be no more mistakes.

"Do you understand, Ren?" Hux repeated. His eyes had gone as red as the tendrils that were coiling about them both, and once more that low voice spoke, There will be no more mistakes.

Snapping awake, Kylo sat up with a start. The world was bright around him, there were sounds like… like wind among branches, a rustle of leaves. Blinking, head still reeling from the odd and strangely too-real dream, he took a deep breath (fresh air laced with the scent of citrus-sweet flowers) and looked around. He was in the garden, he remembered then - it had been raining, earlier, a heavy sort of rain that pattered slowly yet steadily through the leaves above, with grey clouds that dimmed the world to murky gray. He'd gone out in it, sat on the grass and let the warm water seep into him under that clouded sky. He'd appreciated the way nature had made the effort to match his mood, and this sudden change to sunny and pleasant was not appreciated. Wiping a hand across his eyes and trying to hold in a yawn, he sat up groggily. His clothes were wet, the grass around him was damp, and drops of water dripped onto him from the branches above head.

The dream had left him disquieted and somewhat on edge. He remembered that mission well, the first after Starkiller base was destroyed, the first after he'd returned from Snoke's training. Snoke had had doubts about his dedication - Kylo still couldn't understand why. He'd done what had been asked of him, he'd even tried to recover the girl-Rey-the girl - it wasn't his fault the Resistance had pierced through the defenses, if Hux's troops had been better prepared Starkiller would not have been destroyed. It was their training that was lacking, not his…

His head swam; he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten. The hours melted into each other, he'd been losing time again. It was distressing, how quickly he'd fallen back into his prison mindset. Despite his surroundings, he was once again caught within the confines of a cell, trapped and limited. There might be gardens, and he might have the ability to roam the compound but it mattered little - between the implant and the manacles, there was no freedom.

"So this is where you've been."

Kylo turned to find Leia approaching him from the path. He eyed her wearily as she approached him.

"You're wet," She said gently, her voice heavy with concern. She'd been trying to reach out to him more, searching him out whether he was in his room or out in some corner of the quarters.

"It was raining," Kylo answered tonelessly. She looked at him, her eyes soft. He wanted her to stop - he didn't want her to care. It would be so much easier if she didn't. It would make much more sense, everything would make much more sense…

"How are you feeling?" She asked, words dripping with motherly concern. Kylo looked away.

"Adequate."

She sighed wearily; he was as good at shutting her out as always, and it exasperated her as it always had as well. This stalemate of theirs seemed ages old - Kylo refused to give in, had promised himself long ago that he never would (Was it himself he promised?)

"I wanted to ask if you felt like going out," Leia asked. "The weather's gotten nice now."

Kylo frowned at the bright sun above.

"No." He replied. Leaves and blades of grass had gotten stuck to his pants, and he began picking them off slowly, peeling them off the wet fabric and tossing them aside one by one.

"Han has been working on a project at the hangar," Leia pressed on, trying to sound cheerful, "Maybe you could go see how it's coming along?"

"If you want me to get out of your sight you should just say it instead of wasting time thinking up scenarios," Kylo muttered, flinging a leaf away from himself angrily.

"Ben, that is not what I want," Leia said, stepping closer to him. He shot a wary look her way, and she stopped. She looked very tired then, worn. "I just think it might do you well to get out a bit."

"Fine." He snapped, standing up in one, sharp smooth movement. He couldn't take her anymore, her very presence grating on his nerves. Where had this concern been, before, where had it been, then - "I can take the hint."

Leia sighed as he stalked past her; for a moment it felt like she was going to reach out towards him, Kylo could feel it waft from her just a second. Then the moment passed, and he'd left her behind.

He fully intended on leaving just as he was, damp clothes and all, but he ended up changing in the end. The fabric was sticky, clinging to him uncomfortably. He didn't know what had been in the rain but his skin had begun itching and he needed to take a shower and scrub himself down to get rid of the irritation. Dressing in cleaner clothes, he headed out of the quarters. He didn't know where his mother was but he was thankful he didn't run into her. He didn't need her concerned look, her flimsy attempts at being motherly. He'd been fine without it for so long, he didn't need it now.

The world outside the quarters hit him like a sledgehammer, its presence crowding too-tightly around him. He had a space of a sort, inside, but out in the reality of the compound there was nothing that was his. His nightly excursions, when the world was muted and quiet, were far different from this exit into a bustling and active military facility. He'd been out before, he reminded himself, only a few days before - he'd done it, he could do it. Pulling the sleeves of light jacket down even further nervously, he headed down the row of buildings, walking close to the walls and keeping his gaze low. People passed him, guards and workers, and he could feel each presence like muted static at the very edges of his peripheral senses. No one had recognized him before, and there was no reason to think it would be different this time - but his mind hissed that it could be, it could be, they were all enemies, he was the enemy. Guilty party, guilty party, in a soldier's hive.

He was fine, he was fine. He would be fine. No one would recognize him, no one would notice him - he hadn't really been thinking of going to the hangar originally, he'd only wanted to get out to get away from his mother, but now with his breathing panicked and his mind whirling he couldn't think of anywhere else to go. He wanted to go back, but Leia didn't want him, she wanted him gone and away, he couldn't go back.

He had absolutely no idea where the hangar was. His mind was beginning to stutter in horrible staccato around the idea that he was surrounded by enemies, he was in the enemy base, was he lost? - he could be lost - among enemies. Desperately, he reached out slightly with the Force, no longer caring if the shock came, he had to find his way somehow, he had to find some way out of the mess that was crashing into him. His senses glimmered stronger, he didn't know the limit the manacles were set to anymore - had they changed it from before? - and though the thought of pain scared him the thought of being lost among an enemy base was worse.

Frantically, he cast out with his his senses, searching for the familiar glimmer that would lead him to his father. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, pressed them desperately against his body to try to keep them from shaking.

Maybe the limits were raised, Kylo was certain he was using more of the Force than what had usually produced the shock before. Rather than being a relief, it only dismayed him all the more. He had no reference now, no way of knowing how far he could go before the pain came. Terrified of that looming unknown, he pulled back his senses. He still had no idea where his father was, and now he was panicked and shaking, his hands clenched too tight in his pockets. He wanted to go back - his mother didn't want him - he wanted to go back but she didn't want him - his head was swimming, it was beginning to merge two vastly different moments in time, he was starting to lose his grip on what was real. He staggered towards a building, ducking around a corner and backing up against the wall. Closing his eyes he tried to control his breathing - breathe in, hold for ten, breathe out, and repeat, and repeat - he had to get himself under control, to stop the frenzied pulse of his blood and the swirling of his thoughts.

For some horrid, unknown reason his dream returned in vivid clarity, the bridge on the Finalizer coalescing around him as if it were coming into being right there and then. Was he hallucinating? No, no no no, he couldn't let that happen - red tendrils were seeping towards him but he denied them, denied the vision and reminded himself that he was on D'Qar, he was in the Resistance base - the enemy? - he would not let himself fall apart there.

His mind cleared agonizingly slow. He could feel every beat of his heart as it slowed in his chest, could feel it when his blood relaxed its feverish pounding. The vision was gone - his breath was somewhat steady again - his head wasn't clear but it was no longer swimming.

It was dumb luck that he was standing where he was when the squadron of X-Wings flew overhead. His first instinct was to plaster himself tighter against the wall, heart once again pounding in his chest at the sound of enemy planes above. He couldn't move for a moment, the shock flooding his system, but he watched the ships bank slightly, landing gear lowering as they dropped in the air. For a moment his tumultuous mind couldn't make sense why that was important information - but then he realized they were landing. Which meant that there, ahead of him, were the landing pads. The hangar would have to be nearby.

He pushed away from the wall and hurried in near-frantic pace to where he had seen the X-Wings descending. Passing a final row of storage buildings he came upon the runway. Several landing pads bordered it on either side, and he skirted around one as he headed onwards past them. There was a low hill at this side of the compound, and several large doorways were hewn into its side. There was no single hangar - or rather, no single entrance into the hangar (hangars?) and Kylo eyed the several doorways anxiously. Would he need to use the Force? Possibly, he was loathe to try and ask any of the pilots or technicians for help. His steps faltered as he neared the hillside eyeing the openings anxiously - and then he saw it. The last hangar door, the furthest down the line, stood open, and beyond it, partially illuminated by overhead lighting, sat the familiar bulk of the Millenium Falcon.

Picking up speed again, shooting a glance around to confirm no one had noticed him or was nearing, Kylo headed for the last hangar bay. A wave of nostalgia hit him as he walked inside, the bulk of the familiar vessel before him. Han used to take him along on his trips occasionally, before they sent him away. And sometimes after that, too. Trips to various planets, to seedy watering holes and cities that were practically scrap heaps. Kylo hadn't known back then what his father had been doing, but it hadn't mattered. There was a time when the Falcon was more like home than any place else, where being planetside was so foreign that it made him feel sick. There was a time when he'd felt the Falcon was his.

That wasn't true anymore, however. His paced slowed as he neared the ship, eyes raising wistfully as he walked up underneath. When Rey had come to battle, she'd come on the Falcon - she'd piloted it through the fighting and down to the surface. HIs memories were tainted by that thought, the childish, naive idea that the Falcon was his tarnished in hindsight. The Falcon would never he his again - and suddenly he hated being there, next to the hunk of metal that had so defined his childhood. Sentiment never got him anywhere.

"Ben?" Han's voice reached him from somewhere ahead of him. Hesitantly, Kylo moved further inside, shooting a glance over his shoulder to confirm that no one had followed him. Han had a hatch on the underside of the Falcon open and a nest of tangled wiring was hanging from it. A tool cart stood next to him, tools and dirty rags scattered across the top.

"What're you doing out here?" Han asked, gruff voice smoothed by his amiable tone.

"I can leave if I'm bothering you," Kylo responded before really thinking, the words reactive. Han arched an eyebrow as he shot him a look, then motioned him over.

"Come here and give me a hand," Han said, pushing the mass of wires over to Kylo as he neared. "Get those sorted out while I fix the couplers."

Somewhat relieved to have something to focus on, Kylo set to untangling the wires. The repetitive task gave him some respite from the rushing thoughts in his head, slowing their furtive dancing and allowing him to draw his attention away from them and the low-key panic that was hovering around the edges of his mind.

"You find your way here okay?" Han asked conversationally.

"Yes." Kylo tugged at a particularly stubborn knot.

"That's good," Han said, though he didn't sound convinced. He picked up a screwdriver from the tool cart and reached up into the open hatch. "You eat anything today?"

"No." Kylo responded distractedly, picking the knot apart slowly.

"Well that isn't good," Han said, "You need to eat more, you need to get out more. You barely leave that room…"

He felt like a child being would be the point, Kylo thought morosely. Like right then - what had been the point of going out? All he'd gotten was a panic attack and a handful of wires. At least the wires were cooperating - slipping apart easily as he pried the knots apart. Why was this all knotted in the first place? Maybe some mech droid had done a bad job at the wiring, or some tech couldn't care enough to do it properly. Kylo wasn't surprised that Han was working to fix it - he might be the type to go for the cheapest repair, but even so it should be done right.

A figure was approaching. Kylo noticed them from the edges of his vision. His hackles raised as the person neared, his body going tense when he recognized them.

"Here's the parts you needed, Han," The trai- no, what did they call him? Finn - said. He stood there eyeing Kylo with open distrust, dark eyes narrowed. In his hands was a large box holding an assortment of items. Kylo only glanced at him shortly, turning back to the wires that were practically detangled by that point and trying to find something to busy himself with. Maybe on any other day he wouldn't be so non-confrontational, but his already strained nerves were starting to ring again, still raw from his walk over.

"Thanks kid," Han said, and motioned to the floor. "Set 'em down over there and I'll take a look in a minute."

"Sure thing," Finn said, placing the box down heavily. Kylo could still feel the man's eyes on him, prickling his skin. "That all? Need anything else?

He spoke to Han amiably, they obviously knew each other well. Kylo chewed on that thought as he parted the final wires, shooting another glance at the man out of the corner of his eye.

"Nah, I'm good." Han said, peering back up into the hatch. "Thanks."

"Any time," Finn responded. He shot Kylo another wary look before finally turning from them and walking back towards the doors.

Kylo didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until he was gone, exhaling loudly once he did. Han looked over at him curiously, but Kylo avoided his gaze. His head was pounding, everything seemed very distant suddenly, clouded by an odd haze. Was he having another attack? He couldn't be sure, everything was very different than usual.

"You okay?" Han asked, concerned.

"I'm fine!" Kylo snapped, then recoiled although his father hadn't moved towards him. It felt like something had. Deep red was tinging the edges of his vision, white noise was rising in his ears. Everything felt fuzzy and distant. Once again, the ghosts of tendrils stretched from those red edges, walls and floors became superimposed on the ones he could actually see. It wasn't the Finalizer's bridge this time, but something far different. The geometry of the place seemed unnatural, it seemed to shudder and roll in his sight. For some reason he was suddenly thinking of Hux, of Phasma, of ships and planets he couldn't recognize. A swath of starry sky washed over everything, suns burst into view violently, then faded in double-time. The static in his ears rose until the ache became sharply painful, he could feel his heartbeat pulsing through his body -

- and through it all it came a touch terribly familiar, frighteningly real -

There you are…

The words were so quiet, the tone so low, they might've been nothing more than a rumble, a shudder - except he recognized that voice, the cadence and the inflection. He recognized it all too well...

"Ben!'

Kylo blinked, jolted back to himself and clarity in one swift moment. Han was in front of him, his hands on Kylo's shoulders, looking at him with obvious concern.

"What happened? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm fine." Kylo tore himself out of his father's grasp, his skin suddenly cold and crawling with strange sensation. The white noise echoed in his ears, the words - there you are - echoed in his mind. He was reeling, physically and mentally, his breath coming far too fast to catch. "I'm fine!"

His mind was screaming DANGER, everything around him was all wrong - somehow every sound was amplified, every light stronger, every shadow deeper.

"Okay, it's okay," Han had raised his hands slightly, leaving them out and open, managed to look non-threatening. "Slow, deep breaths."

Kylo really tried, but his lungs weren't listening. His pulse was just one loud roar in his ears.

'Do you want to sit down?" Han asked, stepping closer.
"No!"
"All right," Han lowered his hands slightly.

"I… I need to go," Kylo choked out, forcing his breath to slow finally. He staggered a few steps away.

"I'll come with you," Han said, following after him.

"I don't need your help!" Kylo snapped, his voice tinged with desperation. He could make it back, he could make it back, the way wasn't that far, he wouldn't be exposed for long…

"Come on," Han stepped up beside him, and despite Kylo's harsh words he was horribly relieved that his father was with him.

The trip back to the general's quarters was one big blur. Somehow, he managed to get his heart to stop pounding along the way, somehow his breathing had returned to near normal by the time they were there, but he couldn't remember a step of it. Han accompanied him in silence, his presence grounding and comforting once Kylo had returned, mentally, to the world. The quarters were before them, and Kylo could see Leia standing outside of the front door.

Would she ask what had happened? Would she be worried? What would he say if she asked? Would he tell her? His mind swam - he just might if she asked right then. He didn't have much in the way of defense at that moment, and those words were still reverbing in his mind, he needed something to drown them out - if she asked he just might not be able to hold it in - if she asked -

But then she laughed - it was with a shock that he realized she wasn't alone. The other person wore a flight jacket, a flight helmet tucked under his arm. Kylo recognized the man's face when he saw it, the pilot - his fists clenched at his sides. They spoke comfortably with each, other, Leia's laugh was light and real, they seemed so at ease. It made him uneasy, something like raw - it made him -

A flurry of beeps drew his attention. The familiar ball-shaped droid rolled out from behind the pilot's legs, peering over at Han and Kylo as they approached, and Leia and the pilot looked over at them. Leia looked pleasantly surprised, turning to greet them. The pilot's grin faded somewhat, grew wary. Kylo drew glanced away hurriedly, he didn't want to see them.

"Leia, Poe," Han greeted the two as they walked up. Kylo stepped around without a word, ignoring everyone and heading straight for the door. The damned droid began beeping again, rolling after him for a few paces - was it actually trying to talk to him? Right then?

Slamming the door behind him, Kylo stalked through the quarters and back to his room. All he could see was the way Leia had looked when talking with that pilot - relaxed, and cheerful, not fake. He paced throughout his room like a caged animal, he was shaking again, it was all getting to be far too much again. He clasped his hands to his head, squeezing them over his ears, but between the dream and the attacks and the way his mother looked at that pilot he couldn't get his head to stop spinning. The static was returning, the rush of blood in his ears loud and aching. He just wanted it to stop, he just wanted it all to stop -

There you are

No! He didn't want to hear the words - he dropped to his knees with a sob - he didn't want to think of how he was among enemies, he didn't want to see the distrust in the eyes of everyone he met, the weariness in the eyes of his parents. He just wanted it all to stop…

Breath coming fast, so tired and yet so wound up, he found himself unable to stop his thoughts from ranging wildly and feverishly. The dream - the way it returned to him so vividly, the voice he'd heard, his own personal emotions, all of it was roiling inside of him, threatening to tear him apart. He could feel the fit coming on - if he could only calm himself down maybe he could keep from losing his control - but it was useless. He'd gotten so used to giving in to the urges that he no longer knew how to stop them. There was only one thing he could do now, only one way he can keep from falling out of what little control he still had left.

Desperately, he cast out with his senses, grasping at the Force. Anything would make the manacles activate, any usage of the Force, but he needed it to act soon. Casting about, he took hold of the bed, the chairs, anything that was loose, and with effort pulled it all towards him using the Force. The manacles at this wrists sparked to life, he cried out in pain as the shock assaulted him. It still wasn't enough, even the pain of the shocks didn't clear his head from the whirling thoughts and emotions. He drew further on the Force, objects sliding harshly across the floor to him - he could feel the pain starting at the front of his head, pulsing steadily stronger as he continued drawing on the Force.

Only a bit more, he told himself, only a bit more, and he'd have peace...