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It’s too damn hot in here.
General Hux would have laughed if there was any breath left in his lungs. He’s dying, and his last thought will be this.
But it’s so hot. So hot the heat is pressing on his lids and he can’t see; so hot he can’t move or even think. There’s a fire where his sternum ought to be. Scalding, searing pain that’s eating him alive.
He desperately scrambles for a single, coherent thought, but it’s pointless. The life is seeping out of him. His torn uniform is wet and hot as it sticks to his chest.
It’s just all so wrong. It’s worse than wilting beneath Jakku’s blazing sun. Worse than all the pain he’s gone through, everything he survived so far. He’s not just dying, he’s burning up in a last struggle he’s destined to lose.
His memory flickers and dies just like the rest of him; like a last hologram from a sinking ship. He remembers the taste of lies on his tongue and a last look at that bastard Pryde’s face and a single white hot flash. He’s being brought somewhere, tossed around with no care, every hit hurts. They take him to be finished off, but he’s quite sure he won’t survive until they make it to the lock through which they’ll toss him into space.
At least there it will be cold and the flames will die with him.
Suddenly he’s being dropped, and as he hits the ground he wants to scream. It’s like he imagines standing in the flames shooting out of a starting spaceships exhaust pipes. Have they reached their destination? He’s ready for this to end.
He cracks open an eye. The heat is overwhelming. Everything appears to be basked in red.
His head is dead and empty and by the time he realizes the red glow is not something his feverish brain produced the last man around him has fallen, and it disappears with a well-known noise and someone kneels down next to him, someone wearing a lot of black.
It’s Kylo Ren. Who would have thought? Hux thinks he can die peacefully now, because his biggest regret would have been not seeing him one last time and catching himself thinking he’d like to take away that mask and see the frown beneath melt into something soft.
But Kylo Ren has other plans. He makes a noise and Hux could have sworn it sounds like “Armitage”.
He feels himself being grabbed again, not roughly this time but gently, carefully. He feels himself falling against a chest that is surprisingly soft, and there’s a tickle of hair in his face that he’s sure has been dyed black.
I’m dead, he thinks, some higher power felt merciful and gave me the afterlife I’ve always wanted.
But the pain hasn’t stopped yet and he finds himself groaning in agony.
“It’s alright,” Ren says. “I’ll make it alright.”
He puts his hands to Hux’ chest.
Hux wants to flinch away because that’s where the pain is; Ren will put his hand right into the flames and hurt them both, but he can’t move and just gives a distraught whimper.
“I know,” He hears Ren say. “I’m so sorry.”
It wouldn’t be bad to die with parting words like these.
But Ren puts his hands to his chest and the raging flames die down. The pain flows out of him like poisonous water, and all the heat bleeds away; and it’s all replaced by warmth; beautiful, soft, gentle warmth that spreads from the chest that feels whole again to his stomach, to his head, all the way to his hands and feet where it makes the tips of his fingers tingle.
He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He melts into Ren like the wax of a candle that has been rekindled.
“Better?” The man above him asks. He tightens his arms around Hux, and it feels really nice and safe and keeps all this wonderful warmth in. Normally he’d push the other away, because normally he has self-discipline and knows he shouldn’t let his desires get in the way of his goals, but he betrayed everything he believed in and got shot and almost died and Kylo Ren pulled him from the brink of death with what he can currently only describe as magic so really, what’s normal anymore?
“Better,” He confirms. The last time his voice shook so much was when he was very little and very weak, but currently Ren feels like a safer place than any he’s ever had, and it’s okay to be like this.
“Warm. Tired.”
“That is to be expected.”
Ren tries to sound all business-like again. He’s failing miserably. Hux can feel him shaking, but he’d rather focus on how nicely his chest vibrates against the back of the man in his arms when he talks. It’s probably weird that he does not care about almost dying less than a minute ago but how could he? He’s too tired to care, and this is like a dream coming true that he’d rather enjoy.
“Are you seriously falling asleep right now?” Ren asks, and beneath fear and relief there’s a hint of amusement tinging his voice.
“Yes.”
“Fine then.” Hux feels the arms that are wrapped around him shift, but they never leave him, only hold on tighter.
“You sleep. I’ll get us out of here.”
Somewhere nice and warm, Hux hopes.