The next morning, I awoke unable to move.
I cautiously cracked open an eye to find Kylo's sleeping face. The light of the day cycle indicated that we had overslept after our late-night conversation about the Force. His arm was limp and heavy on my waist, thoroughly trapping me to the mattress. His chest expanded and contracted with deep and even breaths.
I narrowed my eyes, trying to see inside his mind or beam my thoughts there. Unsurprisingly, nothing happened. I couldn't even feel the lightness in my chest.
I guess he's right about needing to meditate every day.
He began to stir when I wiggled my arm out from underneath me to cup his face. His eyes snapped open, and then a smile grew on his lips.
"Good morning," I rasped.
Breakfast was our first meal together in a very long time. It felt almost domestic as he caught up on messages he had missed during our time in the Unknown Regions. I fiddled aimlessly with the kyber crystal as I ate. When his communicator inevitably chirped, he picked it up off the table and spoke into it.
"This is Ren."
"Sorry to bother you, Supreme Leader," came Hux's voice. "I've been attempting to reach Lady Caltrel and I urgently request permission to—"
"She's right here," he interrupted, holding out the com to me.
I felt my face heat up as I took it. Leaving my communicator in my room had been a terrible idea. "Caltrel," I grumbled.
Hux cleared his throat. "There is a situation with your…friend in Cell A. He's ripped a pincer out of his BB unit and is threatening to kill himself unless he sees you."
I stood up so quickly that my chair toppled over. Kylo's eyes rose to my face.
"I told the guards to hold him at gunpoint until further guidance."
"Tell them I'm on my way," I said hastily.
Kylo seized my wrist before I could move. "Are your men so incompetent they can't disarm him?" he demanded.
"They're…trying."
I closed the channel with my thumb. His angry eyes went to my face and quickly softened, along with his grip. He searched my face with questions in his eyes.
"Let me go to him," I pleaded.
Jaw clenching in annoyance, he released me. "Go."
I combed the frizz out of my hair as I made my way through the now-familiar corridors to my old cell. My clothing was wrinkled from sleep, which hopefully hid the luxurious nature of the material. I shouldn't be thinking about clothes when John's life is in danger!
The Stormtroopers outside the cell stood at attention when they saw me. The heels of my boots fell loudly with my long strides.
"M—My lady," one of them said. "Are you authorized to be here?"
"Yes," I said firmly, waving them aside.
The cell appeared very different. The seemingly infinite walls of white were the same, but the layout of the rooms had changed. Walls had been knocked over; furniture had been moved and stacked. The table was now a workbench scattered with spare droid parts. When I came around to the opposite side, I saw Vegas on his knees with two Troopers aiming their blasters at him. 9-E, looking a little worse for wear, rolled up to me with a series of confused beeps.
Vegas looked at me in amazement, lowering the sharp piece of metal at his throat. "Lucy," he breathed out.
"Stand down," I ordered.
The Troopers complied as I stepped into their line of fire. Vegas blinked up at me like I was a hallucination. I went down to one knee and snatched the pincer out of his hand. His brow was beaded with sweat, and his neck was scratched and red. Other than that, he appeared to be in good health. He smelled of metal and sweat.
"John," I whispered. "What are you doing?"
Coming to his senses, he slowly stumbled to his feet. "They wouldn't tell me anything, Lucy. Nothing. They wouldn't even tell me if you were dead or alive," he rambled.
I stood up and dropped 9-E's arm in front of him. He beeped sadly.
"Well, here I am," I said irritably, spreading my arms. "Alive."
He hugged me unexpectedly. I rested my hand on his back, frowning when I felt the unusual leanness of his frame. A breathless laugh escaped him.
"Gods…it's so good to see you."
I pulled back and gave him a tight-lipped smile. "It's good to see you, too."
I sat with Vegas on one of the awkwardly placed couches to catch up on the last few weeks. He explained that they had treated him well. So well that he had talked them into giving him some droid parts to tinker with. Though I tried to keep the conversation focused on him, that didn't last very long.
"Are you reinstated?"
"No," I hedged.
Technically speaking, it was true. I didn't even know how to begin to explain the Phasma situation. I didn't even want to.
Vegas narrowed his eyes on me. "You're back with him."
Though it wasn't a question, I nodded anyway. "He's changed, John," I said softly. "In so many ways."
"People don't change, Luce."
I lowered my eyes to my lap, knowing that getting into an argument with him would likely bring me to the verge of tears. He heaved a tired sigh.
"But you love him," he said in a bewildered voice. "So much that you'll tolerate the First—kriffing—Order to be with him."
His harsh words flew into me like daggers. I looked away.
"It's insane," he continued, his voice rising. "I can't believe you would ignore the death and destruction of thousands just for one man."
When the guards began to approach in concern, I raised my hand to deter them.
"As long as the First Order is in control, there will be no peace in the Galaxy. You and I have seen firsthand what they do to planets. They enslave them."
I finally looked at him. The righteous anger in his eyes was undiminished by weeks of imprisonment. Sadly, his defiance guaranteed him an even longer sentence.
"Finished?" I chirped.
"...Yeah."
"The First Order is winning this war, John," I said evenly. "The sooner you accept that, the sooner you will be free. There will be peace once the New Republic capitulates."
His eyes wavered, and then he scoffed. "Kylo Ren doesn't know what 'peace' is."
"He's not the man you used to know."
He gave me an extremely skeptical look. "You sure about that?"
Closing my eyes, I tried to sense Kylo's presence through the Force. The now-familiar feeling of lightness spread throughout my chest, causing me to smile. I wondered if he could feel it, too.
"Somehow, I just know," I said. "A feeling."
"...I hope you're right."
As I left, I could only hope that Vegas took my stern warning to heart. It pained me to see him suffering, but he was lucky to be alive. And only he could keep it that way.
After doing my patrols as Phasma, I spent much of the afternoon debating whether to move my things to the other room. It felt as though we had crossed some unspoken barrier in our relationship. In the end, I decided to pack a small overnight bag to experiment.
That evening, I heard a heated conversation playing out in the briefing room. I pressed my ear to the door to eavesdrop. A flustered General was on the holocom, reporting on a Resistance base discovered in the Mid Rim. The trail had gone cold, and Kylo was furious. He ordered him to send teams to every planet in the sector and then handed the conversation over to Hux.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when my door signal went off.
My stomach lurched at the grave look on Kylo's face.
"I forbid you from seeing him again," he stated.
My mouth dropped open as he unceremoniously walked away. Frantically grabbing my bag from the table, I rushed after him towards his quarters. When I accidentally made eye contact with Hux, he raised a judgemental eyebrow at me. I frowned in annoyance and mashed the door controls to shut it quickly.
"Why?" I called as he vanished into the bedroom.
"Because he's a traitor," snapped his muffled voice.
"Kylo…"
Following him inside, I approached him from behind as he disrobed with jerky movements. His broad shoulders were tense, and they froze when I placed my hands on his back. I rested my head between his shoulder blades.
"You know how I feel about you," I murmured. "Look inside. I have nothing to hide from you."
I closed my eyes and focused on my conversation with Vegas. Almost immediately, I felt him watching it with me, listening to every word in a matter of seconds. He steered my thoughts back to the runabout, when it was just Vegas and me against the Galaxy. I thought of one of my recurring dreams—it had been a great comfort to me then.
A breeze swept over the rooftops of the desert town that I called home. The cantina music hung in the air, dull and melodic. A sudden burst of volume signaled someone's entry to the balcony, and my back automatically straightened.
"Lucia?"
"That's not a dream," Kylo murmured.
My eyes popped open.
"It's a vision."
I pulled away in confusion. "What…?"
Suddenly, he was kissing me. His hand threaded through my hair and angled my head upward, and his tongue slid past my lips. Every worry flew out of my mind as a wave of heat rushed through my body. I reached up and grasped his shoulder.
I didn't realize I was moving until my knees suddenly hit something and gave out from under me. We tumbled onto the mattress, and he caught himself just before his body weight crushed me. We looked at each other in surprise.
I laughed. "That was close."
He smiled.
"Not close enough," he said, lowering his face to kiss me.
