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My body’s on the line, now
I can’t fight this time, now
I can feel the light shine on my face
-twenty one pilots, “The Line”
He is barely conscious when the bond opens. There is a flicker of movement in his peripheral, a sharp intake of breath filling the silence of his cell. Kylo groans quietly, turning his head away from her.
It’s no use. Rey is at his side in an instant, her warm hands cradling his cheeks. She gently turns his head so that he must meet her eyes.
“Ben,” she whispers. “What happened?”
He swallows, trying to ease the dryness in his throat, but to no avail. He should tell her the truth. No, he should lie—say something about her precious Resistance. Make her doubt them, hate them. But when Kylo opens his mouth, he does neither. “What does it matter, Jedi?”
Speaking reopens the cut on his lower lip. Kylo lets the sting fuel him for just a moment. It’s the smallest pain he can feel right now—makes it easier to focus on. To draw power from.
Rey narrows her eyes. Her grip on his face tightens a fraction, and Kylo can’t help it. He winces, exhaling a harsh breath through his nose. Rey’s hands fall away as if she has burned him. Regret flashes in her eyes, but she does not apologize—does not back down. “It matters, Supreme Leader.” Her gaze drifts down his body, cataloguing every bruise, every cut, every ragged breath he takes. Kylo’s shoulders ache from the strain of the chains, his arms held high above his head.
Rey lifts her chin, full of righteous fury. “Who did this to you, Ben?”
What use is there in hiding it from her? He’s going to die here, anyway. She might as well know the truth. “Hutts. They have something—a creature. Force-sensitive. It was…powerful.”
Every word feels like it is clawing its way up his throat. He is exhausted. He is hungry, and thirsty. Every inch of him hurts. He just wants to sleep.
He doesn’t realize that his eyes have closed until he feels Rey’s touch again. Her thumb rubs his cheek, her voice soft when she speaks. “Hey. Ben.”
“Mmm.”
“Can you open your eyes for me? I need you to stay awake a little longer. Please, Ben. For me.”
Oh, she knows what she is doing. Kylo forces his eyes open. Rey’s face swims in and out of focus. She leans in close, her voice low, each word clear and precise. “Where are you?”
“Tatooine,” he replies. Not that it’ll do him any good, her knowing his location. She won’t come for him. No one ever does.
He closes his eyes and slips into comfortable, cool darkness.
At first, he thinks he is dreaming. Why else would Rey be here, in his cell, with Kylo’s lightsaber in her hands? The red glow of it sets the dark aflame and reflects in her eyes.
Then Kylo looks past her, and sees his guards lying on the ground, unconscious.
Rey is here.
Something sweet and warm flutters in Kylo’s chest. It banishes the pain in his body, if only for a moment.
Rey extinguishes the lightsaber, clipping it to her belt and reaching for Kylo’s chains. “We have to move fast,” she says. “The distraction won’t last long.”
She releases his arms, then his legs. Kylo’s knees begin to buckle, but Rey catches him, even though she sways beneath his weight. She draws one of his arms over her shoulders and wraps her arm around his waist. “Kriff, Ben,” she mutters, helping him limp to the door. “You’re massive.”
They make their way out of Gardulla’s fortress, ignoring the chaos around them. Servants rush around, shouting, and in the distance, Kylo can make out the sound of blaster fire. It takes all of his strength to keep moving, but whenever he falters, Rey’s mind brushes his in the Force, urging him on.
At last, they step out into the blistering heat of Tatooine. Kylo flinches, blinded by the suns’ light after hours in the dark.
“Not much farther,” Rey murmurs. When Kylo’s eyes adjust to the light, he can see their destination: a small, silver ship parked on the sand past a rocky outcropping.
When they are finally inside the ship, Kylo falls into the closest seat, pain radiating throughout his body. Rey winces but says nothing. She kneels before him, presses her palm to the center of his bare chest, and closes her eyes.
Kylo has never attempted Force healing. But from what he has read of it, it is meant to be soft—comforting, even. Rey’s Force energy is anything but soft. It jolts into him like lightning, electric and blinding. Kylo hisses in pain, hand shooting out to grab Rey’s wrist.
Her eyes dart up to meet his, her energy retreating from his body. “I wasn’t done.”
“If you want to keep any of your own life-force, you should be.”
She frowns. Pulling her hand from his grasp, she stands. “Oh.”
Kylo tips his head back to hold her gaze. He rolls his jaw—split lip, healed. He takes a deep breath—broken ribs, mended. Bruises along his side—vanished. All that remains of his captivity is his hunger, and the raw skin on his wrists and ankles from the chains.
Kylo raises a brow. “Do you always show your enemies such compassion?”
Rey doesn’t bristle at the question, much to Kylo’s disappointment. Instead, she mirrors his expression and asks, “Do you always show your enemies such weakness?”
“You’re the one who made me your enemy first. All I wanted was—”
“Galactic domination. Yeah, I remember.”
Kylo sighs. “You, Rey. I wanted you.”
She takes in a breath, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You could’ve had me,” she whispers, “if you hadn’t chosen this path.”
Ah, of course. This path. This cursed, blood-soaked path, blazed by his grandfather before him. What good has it done him lately? He’d ended up in chains, after all, a slave in the same hopeless place as his ancestors. He really did emulate Anakin at last.
After the last few days, he can admit the truth, if only to himself. He is so tired of fighting to stay on this path.
A strange and traitorous thought begins to take shape in his mind. Kylo lets himself ask, “And if I change course?”
Rey shakes her head, but even then, Kylo can sense hope burning in her heart. “You don’t mean that.”
Kylo tries to stand, only for his legs to give out from under him. So there were some things Rey didn’t heal. He collapses back into his seat with a growl. “What if I do, Rey? If I follow you instead—what then?”
“You know what. You’ve seen it.”
In her dreams, she means. He tilts his head. “Show me anyway.”
He expects her to reach for his mind, to press her vision of their future into his thoughts. But instead, Rey steps into his space, one hand on his shoulder, the other threaded through the hair at his nape. Kylo’s lips part in surprise.
Rey kisses him, swiftly but surely, before pulling away. Kylo can do no more than look up at her, dazed and inordinately pleased.
“That’s what would happen,” Rey says, her voice forceful despite the color in her cheeks. “We’d be together.”
“The way we were meant to be.”
“Yes.”
Kylo places unsteady hands on her waist, intending to kiss her again—for much longer, this time—when the sound of boots on the ship’s boarding ramp reaches them. He frowns.
Rey sighs, but her mouth curls into a smile, mischief sparking in her eyes. “That would be our distraction.”
The footsteps come to an abrupt halt. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Kylo’s eyes meet Poe Dameron’s, then FN-2187’s, over Rey’s shoulder. The horror on both of their faces is enough to make even Kylo think about smiling.
The traitor leans close to Dameron. “She’s…holding him.”
“Yup.”
“And he’s holding her.”
“He sure is, buddy.”
“Doesn’t it make you want to throw something at him?”
Dameron runs a hand over his eyes, as if trying to erase the image of Rey and Kylo from his mind. “It makes me want to throw up, and throw something at him. There’s no unseeing this.”
Kylo knows he shouldn’t say anything. And yet. “Of course there is. It’s a simple Force trick. I would be happy to—”
He diverts the stun-shot from Dameron’s blaster with ease, then pulls Rey down into his lap, as if trying to protect her from its path, too. Really, though, it’s just to see what kind of face Dameron will make this time.
He is not disappointed. Dameron looks practically murderous. Kylo smirks at him.
Rey’s grip on Kylo’s hair tightens. Even so, she doesn’t try to stand—doesn’t try to escape his arms. “Be nice, Ben,” she chides softly.
Kylo Ren, nice? How absurd.
But if it will please Rey, Kylo thinks, perhaps being nice is worth a try.