Chapter Text
The Rebels had chosen their base well this time, a complex series of tunnel networks under the surface of a rainforest planet, thick with vegetation and rich with edible plants and clean water. They could survive a long siege in these conditions, and it had been a long siege, but now the First Order had finally broken through and they were cornered in the hub of the tunnel network, hemmed in on all sides. There was only so much longer they could hold out. These last few days it had been just a waiting game.
“Supreme Leader, we’ve got them,” Hux said, reporting to Ren with obvious pride, wearing his nearest expression to happiness. “The scans of all the surrounding areas are complete. There is no way out.”
“Don’t let your guard down, General,” Ren cautioned. “She’s still in there.”
“Even if she is, sir, she won’t stand much of a chance against all of us by herself.”
“Maybe,” Ren replied, watching the nearest, largest hub entrance, where the fighting had been fierce. Rey was the last real opposition the Rebels had left in their arsenal, and even without a lightsaber she’d made her presence felt. Strategic tunnel collapses; ambushes that dissipated the moment stormtroopers tried to respond; Force throws and blocks that could bottleneck a whole area for hours; yes, her blunt strong-arming was the greater portion of why this had taken so long. But she was trapped in there now with the rest of them, Ren could feel it. He’d honed in on her so closely, so precisely, he could practically tell which blaster shots were hers.
His anticipation of cornering her at last was so sharp and urgent it almost made him feel a little out of his mind. She was so close, and he’d nearly caught sight of her once or twice today, but not close enough. He wanted to look her in the eye again, in the flesh, not just in the Force. He wanted to breathe the same air she did, to share her reality, to see her in his. What he would do when that moment came, he wasn’t sure. He could only hope that in these last few intervening hours something brilliant would come to him.
Another salvo of blaster shots echoed from inside the hub, making them all duck for cover. Ren reached out, feeling his way through the shooters. She wasn’t there.
“Taking fire from the south,” a studied, dispassionate voice said on the radio. “Should we advance?”
“Press forward at the nearest opportunity, Captain,” Hux replied. Ren reached that way and found her almost instantly, burning in his Force sight as no one else could. Of course she was there; he was on the north side of the hub so she would be on the south.
“I’m going to join the southern advance,” he told Hux.
“Supreme Leader, we have greater reinforcements here,” Hux protested at once. “The southern side has more constricted tunnels, it will be far harder to provide backup.”
“I don’t need backup,” Ren said shortly, turning and making his way down the line with the Praetorians trailing him. He was about to see her. He was moments away. The promise of it burned within him, and he felt his saber hand sweating in its glove. It would be a battle like it had been on the Starkiller, only this time he would win. But the fight itself was what he wanted, the push and pull as the Force enveloped them both during their contest, so strongly that even non-sensitives could almost feel it. There was something between them he couldn’t name when they fought, either with or beside each other, something raw and powerful and terribly real in a way he didn’t know how to describe. He craved it like an addict.
A shower of blaster fire distracted him and he stopped, reaching out in the Force, bringing a handful of heavy rocks down on the offending Rebels. An explosion just in front of him pushed him back for a moment, the heat and the power expanding across his field of vision, but he deflected it away, not bothering to expend the energy it would take to catch the blast or contain it. His greatest contest was before him, he didn’t want to waste even a single breath more on these minor impediments.
They barely made it another ten feet before more blasters fired on them, from a different part of the hub. He reached for it impatiently and at the same time felt a blast hit him in the side, just under his arm. It dropped him to his knees, more out of surprise than pain; how had he not sensed it coming? But then he felt across the fabric of his shirt and realized it wasn’t breached at the exact same time that he understood the wounding impact he’d felt hadn’t been his own.
Rey.
The inside of him screamed apart into pieces and he was only just behind it. “STOP FIRING,” he shouted, flinging out a hand at every stormtrooper he could reach in his immediate area, breaking their blasters apart with a thought. “Tell Hux I want every First Order soldier to stand down!” he snapped at the nearest Praetorian.
“But Supreme Leader, General Hux reports a successful advance in the south.”
“I’m going in there and every soldier that fires or tries to advance I will kill myself,” Ren growled, looking the offending Praetorian directly in the eyes as he hit the button on his lightsaber, firing the crackling red blade. He didn’t remember ever drawing it to his hand but it was there just the same, solid and reassuring, the heat and the glow seeming to drag parts of him back into place somehow, holding him together.
He strode toward the hub, leaving his guards behind with a wave of his hand as his saber flashed, deflecting the blaster bolts that instantly showered him from every angle. He barely even knew what he was doing, his strokes rising and falling faster than they ever had in his life and it still wasn’t fast enough. The Force was cascading through him at searing speed, a continuous flood he didn’t direct so much as released. It seemed to clear the way almost of its own accord, and a moment later Ren had entered the tunnels.
It was unbearable to have to spare even that amount of attention when he was bending every available ounce of his might on finding Rey. She was in front of him somewhere, that was all he knew, so that was where he went, blindly feeling his way forward, every bend in the tunnels introducing him to another fork in the route or another shower of blaster fire. It took too much time, too much time, and Rey felt strange in the Force, her energy soured somehow in a way that panicked him.
Around the next corner he heard a familiar voice, someone he had heard most recently in the background of the bond, now here and giving orders to what sounded like several people. He sheathed his lightsaber blade reluctantly, though every instinct was demanding aggressive physical action so he could fight his way through. He had to get to her and fighting, however fast or strong or good at it he was, was taking too much time.
“Poe,” he shouted before rounding the corner. “Poe Dameron.”
There was a short, surprised pause then he heard, “Yeah? What do you want, Ren?”
“Rey’s been hit,” Ren said, the words acid in his throat, on his tongue, the panic rising inside him until he almost wondered how much longer it would be before he couldn’t fight it back down.
“By one of your guys,” Poe shouted back. So he knew. That meant he would know where she was.
“I’m coming around the corner,” Ren said, moving forward, hands up.
“I’d rather you stayed right where you are,” Poe replied. Around the next bend he found himself facing a choke point held by Poe and six other Rebels, armed to the teeth, blaster barrels staring him down.
“I can’t do that,” Ren said, moving forward slowly but moving forward.
“Go back where you came from, Supreme Leader,” Poe ordered contemptuously, but he didn’t fire. “We’ll take care of Rey.”
“I can help her,” Ren promised, his voice not as loud as he’d meant it to be, hoarse with his fear.
“How?” Poe demanded.
“We’re strong in the Force. Even more when we’re together. You’re General now?”
“Yeah, I’m General now.”
“Then, General, I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. Rey is injured and you’ve got no way out but while I’m in here the First Order won’t fire on you. You take me to her, you’re safe, for a while. You try to stop me, I’ll kill all of you and get to her anyway. And– and maybe not in time,” he said, his voice nearly cracking on the words as it hadn’t since he was an adolescent.
“I don’t believe you,” Poe said, but in the Force Ren heard the lie.
“The shooting’s stopped,” Ren pointed out. “Can you believe that?”
Poe hesitated and Ren came to a halt where he was, less than ten feet shy of their line, feeling the itch of sweat trickling down his back as he held himself in place by sheer will alone. Finally the General broke ranks, stepping forward and looking Ren up and down. “Alright,” he grudgingly agreed. “But if you try anything–.”
“You won’t be able to stop me no matter what you do,” Ren said, lowering his hands. “But I need to get to her. I need to get to her RIGHT NOW.” Poe almost physically started back but Ren didn’t care anymore, whatever emotion was on his face, however much naked need was in his words. If raw sentiment got him through he would beg, if needs be. Rey was in there and she needed him immediately, IMMEDIATELY.
“Fine,” Poe decided, turning back towards the line. “Follow me. You lot stand down,” he ordered the Rebels, who didn’t look at all pleased to hear it. “We’ve got a truce, for now.”
Ren followed, ignoring his bravado. Poe moved at a fast clip but it wasn’t fast enough, not nearly enough. As they went more Rebels tried to stop them, convinced Ren was somehow manipulating or puppeting Poe, and every time he had to order them to stand down was another second they were delayed. Ren pushed his senses as hard as he could, and Rey came closer a little at a time.
The very center of the hub was hollowed out, a large cave where Rebels rushed them from every side, reporting in from the tunnels all around, approaching with their blasters leveled at Ren and not all of them putting them down completely even when Poe told them to. Ren shoved his way through, using the Force to buffer his path, finally seeing his way clear. Rey’s energy shone from an adjacent cave, just around the corner, and he got there in record time, not stopping until he stood in the entrance. There he froze as if he’d hit a wall.
The cave was darkened but he saw her in a moment, lying on her side, facing away from him. There were medical personnel hovering, trying to take care of her, but they didn’t seem to be doing anything and even from the entrance he could see the fresh wound on her side, the charred edges of her shirt, the burned and blackened flesh. It almost took him to his knees again.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” someone shouted, and a Rebel appeared from another part of the room, leveling a blaster. Ren was too dazed to react but Poe was there in a moment, nearly tackling him.
“Finn!” the General shouted. “Stand down!”
“Get him away from her!” Finn shouted back, lowering his blaster but not by much.
“He can help Rey!” Poe insisted, grabbing him by the front of his jacket and physically shaking him. “Listen to me, he can help Rey.” That seemed to get through to Finn and Poe looked back at Ren, distrust clear in his eyes, overridden only by the fear for her that they seemed to share. “The docs can’t get to her,” he said. “Every time they try there’s some kind of energy around her, some kind of barrier. We think she’s doing it somehow, while she’s unconscious. Like a protective instinct.”
Ren opened his mouth automatically to tell him that was impossible but reconsidered in the same breath. He could feel the Force roiling off her, tainted, overwhelmed with pain and with fear. The wound was deep; even unconscious, Rey knew it. The energy in the room pulsed with the same panic he was feeling, reflected back at him and nearly making his hair stand on end.
“Rey,” he said instead, turning towards her, pulling off his gloves. He pushed his voice at her with the Force and at a word from Poe the doctors withdrew, leaving his path clear. He tried to speak again but his throat was choked with tears and pain and anyway, no words would do. Instead he entered the room, approaching until he was a few feet away from her. He could see what Poe meant; she was sparking in the Force like her skin itself was conducting live electricity. One touch could set her off, and burn that hand at the very least. He stretched out both of his over her, closing his eyes, focusing.
He pushed, from his center outwards, joining his Force to hers. Immediately her fear swept through him. On top of his own it almost forced him back. He bit down grimly on the impulse, bending the power to his will. The dangerous energy around her seemed to clear, bit by bit, until he had managed to push it away so much that she was almost completely exposed. “Treat her,” he snapped, straining to say even that and still hold the ground he’d gained, and the doctors rushed forward immediately. When they found they could safely touch her wound they grabbed their supplies, spraying disinfectants and pain relievers. A little of Rey’s fear eased, but not enough, and the doctors had no skill that would allow them to recover the tissue that had been burned away.
Ren pushed himself even further, sweat and tears on his face, his jaw locked so hard his back teeth throbbed and ached, reaching into her. The source of her pain seemed far from him, as though it was at the end of a long corridor and a howling wind blew against him, holding him back whenever he tried to move forward. He pushed against it anyway but as he did her energy rose in response to his inattentiveness, threatening to deny the doctors their hard-won access, and he had to abandon the effort and focus on keeping it at bay.
He wasn’t strong enough. Years of training, years of battle and sweat, discipline and self-denial, constantly forcing himself to be better, and he wasn’t nearly good enough for this. If Luke were here-- it was an intrusive thought and he tried to push it away but couldn’t.
One of the doctors’ hands strayed too far down Rey’s back, brushing the lurking energy field, and she pulled it back sharply with a surprised gasp. Ren was holding his place but somehow still losing ground, as if the power he fought continued to swell and build while his stayed insufficient and small.
“Sir, please,” the bravest of the doctors said, and even with his eyes closed Ren’s senses were so expanded right now that he could almost see her looking up at him. “We need you to hold it off. She has to be stabilized, we need more time.”
“I know,” he growled. His muscles shook, locked and trembling, his shoulders ached with the effort. How long had he been here like this? Twenty seconds? Two hours?
“Can you clear the way to her chest?”
“No.”
“If we can get to her chest…” the doctor said, standing and edging as close to Ren as she dared, “we might be able to treat her enough that at least she wouldn’t be feeling any pain. The way it is now–.”
“I know how it is now,” Ren gasped, his own heart pulling apart at the seams. They thought he couldn’t tell she was still in pain? That he couldn’t feel it in his own body, on a cellular level, in his own soul?
“He’s doing everything he can,” Poe said, and Ren sensed him gently pulling the doctor away. “Just help her as much as possible, we don’t know how long we have.”
“It’s not enough,” the doctor protested. “We need more supplies, equipment–.”
“Hey, this is what we’ve got, okay?” Poe said, his tone low, commanding. “You don’t have to tell me it’s not good enough, I know it’s not good enough, but it has to be good enough for now. At least it will buy us time.”
They thought he was going to fail her. Ren couldn’t blame them; he was beginning to think so too. It made no sense. This should be the part of the Force he could control, this grand and huge and terrible fear should be exactly what he was best able to wield, to bend. Hadn’t he done that for all of his own fears? Hadn’t he taken every terrible thing and made it his power, made it his strength? But now of all times it wasn’t enough. He reached into Rey again, seeking her wound, and was beaten back even more easily than last time. He tried to breathe, tried to center himself, but under the weight of their combined, spiraling pain and panic there was no center to be found. Even if he did, how did he imagine he could heal her? The Dark Side was not concerned with healing and saving.
It took everything he had left, every scrap of will, but he tore whatever focus he could spare away from the Force standoff and did something he hadn’t done in many years. He reached for the Light.
At first nothing happened and his stomach dropped. Had he really managed to shut himself off from it for good? Before he would have been elated but now Rey was lying in front of him, desperately needing him, and he needed it to save her. So instead he reached for it through Rey, using her own strong, unshakable connection to the Light Side, pushing through their bond to feel it and remind himself how it felt, how it was done. And slowly, dimly at first, the Light rose to meet him.
Then faster. Then faster. It fell into place within him and the fear, the fear that he could control but not combat, seemed to flinch. Ren reached even more urgently and the Light responded to his need, burning a clear path in front of him. He gathered it carefully and reached into Rey.
“What is this?” Poe said from far away, and Ren was dimly aware there were cries of shock, the doctors beating a hasty retreat. What this looked like from outside himself, to non-Force users, he had no idea, but a thought was growing within him that they didn’t need the doctors anymore. He reached Rey’s wound, the center of all the darkness swirling in her, took her pain as though it was a physical thing in his hands, and broke it in two. The energy around her snapped and fell away and the huge weight of fear that had been on him like an entire planet bearing down on his shoulders lifted off, so quickly he stumbled and nearly fell.
“Whoa!” Poe said in his ear, and he felt the General’s arms around him, catching him. “Steady as she goes. I think you’re doing it.”
“Yes,” Ren said distantly, easing him away, afraid to lose focus. He was certainly doing something, though he couldn’t say what. He knelt next to Rey, hands still outstretched, eyes still closed, and examined her wound from within. It was terrible, stripping the flesh almost clean away from three of her ribs, and he explored the edges of what had been, sinking into the muscles. There was a strange and alien sense of consciousness to them, as though they resented their half-ness, wanting to re-make the shape they had had before. They lacked only the power; so did he, but now he knew the trick and joined his Force to Rey’s, filling the edges with as much Light as he could possibly reach.
“Tell your doctors to take care of their other patients,” he told Poe, his voice far away even to himself. “I’ll heal Rey.”
“Okay,” Poe agreed instantly, only hesitating one long moment before moving off.
The tissues formed. Ren could feel it, and wondered at it, and with every centimeter they recovered the fear eased a little more. Rey’s own consciousness was there, just under the surface, but Ren gently suppressed it. She wasn’t trying to come back, not yet, but for now he needed her to stay as she was so he could manipulate their combined power without interference. The Force was creating everything needed- not just tissue, but blood, skin- and Ren observed with a kind of distant wonder, still holding off the pain, using the Dark Side and the Light Side both at once. It was strange to feel but he pushed that back too, focusing only on Rey. Slowly, ever so slowly, the muscles of the wound stretched, and moved, and closed. When the tissue had been recovered the blood filled it. By the time he was helping the skin push itself across the open space he’d gotten much better at where and how to direct their power. It wasn’t so much him constantly healing her as letting her body regain the shape it remembered, recover what it was already working to achieve.
Finally, finally, the skin settled into place. Rey’s fear, her pain, the last vestiges of the all-consuming panic that had pinned her down trembled and flexed for a brief moment, like a last spasm, before winking out of existence. Ren’s own muscles spasmed and trembled as he finally lowered his hands to her shoulders, rolling her towards him as he opened his eyes, letting his natural sight take over in place of his Force sight. They stung and smarted from being screwed tightly shut for so long, a couple last tears falling as he took her in. Her side was visible through the singed gap in her shirt, whole and undamaged, the skin a little pink and tender-looking but completely healed. His own panic subsided gently, like receding waves on the seashore, and then was gone, and with it Ren let go of the Force, both sides, feeling himself slump for a moment like a puppet with its strings cut.
“Rey,” he croaked, his throat agony, the word fire and fear and hope. She didn’t wake, didn’t even twitch, her breathing soft and even but her eyes staying closed. “You have to come back,” he told her, pulling her towards him, off the bed, into his arms. He wanted to do it gently but didn’t have the strength left for that, only for the need, this horrible and terrible and fragile need to have her as close to him as he could, and he dragged her to him and held her against his chest, his breathing ragged. He was still crying somehow. It was amazing how many tears he’d had in him; he’d never realized.
She didn’t wake up. The fear and the panic were coming back inside him and he was too tired to resist them. “You have to come back,” he repeated into her hair, his lips against her forehead, her skin, the warmth and solidness of her. “Rey, please. I’m right here. Please, please.”
“How is she?” Poe’s voice said above him, a gentle, if wary, hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t know,” Ren admitted, the words dragging something terrible and vulnerable out of him.
“You healed her?”
“Yes. But she won’t wake up.”
“Maybe it’s some kind of side-effect or something. That all looked pretty extreme, from what I could tell. Maybe she needs the rest.”
Maybe. Maybe. Ren nodded, not bothering to try and voice the other option. Surely he’d done enough. In the Light Force, in the Dark Force, somewhere in that battle, he couldn’t have lost her. He would have felt it. He would have known.
“Rey,” he said, pulling on his power again, or hers, or some mix in between, the tiny amount he could summon now and put into his words, pushing them towards her. “You can’t leave me here. You can’t. I just got here. I haven’t even killed all your friends yet. Aren’t you going to yell at me? Aren’t you going to wake up and try to convince me to turn?” He leaned back, brushing her hair away from her face. She was still breathing. She was breathing but he couldn’t tell if she was really here with him or not, and maybe it was his own weakness and exhaustion, but maybe it was something else.
“You can’t die,” he told her sternly. “You can’t die, I won’t allow it. You’re the one thing that’s not allowed to go, do you hear me? All the rest, all the rest, I don’t care about it. It doesn’t matter. But you’re not allowed to go. Please,” he added, burying his face in her shoulder, in the soft curve of her neck, hugging her to him as though through the proximity alone he could push his own life into her. “Please. You have to stay with me.”
It was dark. It was all dark, here in the cave, in his mind, in the tiny amount of her he could feel. There was nothing else but darkness and he didn’t want it, he hated it, he would have killed the darkness itself if he could.
Then, a ripple. A tiny susurration, like a drop falling from far above, disturbing the darkness. A sense of something, in his heart, in his arms. Reaching for it sapped the last of Ren’s strength and he felt Poe’s arms around him again as his own failed him, as he nearly dropped her, as he fell back and the darkness came to claim him. The last thing he saw before his eyes closed were Rey’s eyes opening.