A blast of frigid wind hit Kylo the moment he entered Rey's mind. The impact was so startingly unexpected that it almost propelled him right out of her, but he gritted his teeth and held on. He knew he would not have the strength to re-enter if he lost the connection. Rey-or whatever Rey was now-was growing stronger, and he was growing weaker. If he failed now, there would be no trying again.

Desperately, Kylo fought to open his eyes against the cold, bringing an arm up to shield his face as best he could from the wind. Slowly, he acclimatized, and the landscape before him sharpened.

He had expected a personification of whatever hungry parasite was feeding on everyone's Life Force: mountains of fire, screaming agony, demonic cackling, something.

Instead, he saw a barren wasteland. All around him, as far as he could see, was a vast expanse of flat snow punctuated by the occasional snow hill: the winter reflection of Jakku.

Whatever heat was emanating from Rey's body, it was not warming her from within.

Kylo stumbled forward. He had no sense of direction, but he walked on. More than once, a shadow flashed in the periphery of his vision, a shape that looked like Rey, but that moved too fast for him to be certain; he whipped around to catch it, but it always fled before he could get a better glimpse, and he found himself disoriented again. His footsteps disappeared from the snow the moment he lifted his foot to take another step. Was he even moving forward, or was he walking in circles?

His teeth began to clatter, and he knew he did not have long before he grew too weak to maintain the concentration needed to remain.

Think, he ordered himself. He closed his eyes, tried to block out the cold and the pain. He tried not to think about how easy this would be, were he not sick and not losing his Force.

Think. If this was Jakku, where would Rey go?

No answer came to mind. Rey hated everything about Jakku. She hated the blistering heat that offered no respite, and the ship graveyard that threatened injury at every turn. She hated Niima outpost, which meant nothing more than Unkar Plutt and too little food. She hated the people, ugly and dirty and primitive, most of them addicted to spice and prone to stealing whatever worthless scrap of metal for a hit. But, most of all, she hated the crippling loneliness and the landscape never-ending sand that taunted her, reminding her she was but a speck of sand herself, irrelevant and unwanted.

And yet, Jakku was all she had ever known until recently.

So, if I were Rey and everything I feared was revealed to be true, where would I go?

To Snoke, of course. That's where he'd gone, wasn't it?

But Rey didn't have a Snoke. She hadn't had anyone. Kylo had flattered himself that she'd come to him, but he understood now that it hadn't been her decision. The parasite had come. The parasite had come to feed on the strongest Force it knew to find — first, Snoke's and now his.

The cold wind blew harder, and Kylo blew ferociously into his icicle hands.

Think! Force-damn it all! Thinkthink think!

Where would he have gone if he could have?

Home.

That's where he would have gone, where he had always wanted to go.

An image came to mind then, forceful and bright; one he had seen before through Rey's eyes the first time they had touched through the Force Bond: a fallen AT-AT unit, half-buried in the sand, most of it rusted away, but the main body liveable and the rest manageable.

Kylo locked on the image and held it fast in his mind. Yes, if this was Jakku, this is where Rey would have gone.

He started walking again. The rest wouldn't matter. If he was wrong, there was nothing else he could do.

He ignored the flashes of maybe-but-probably-not-Rey that came more frequently, and he hunched over and fought his way against the wind that screamed against him, stronger and colder than ever. He wouldn't stop until he fell back out onto the bed or died. No matter what, he wouldn't give up on her until every last ounce of his strength had gone.

A structure shimmered ahead of him, barely decipherable, but as he drew closer, he recognized it: the giant mechanical feet, the awning above the entrance, even the rectangular red speeder. He'd found her home.

A thick metal door blocked the way into the AT-AT unit, but even as Kylo saw it and wondered how he'd get through, it opened. He stumbled through it, and it slammed shut immediately, blocking out the freezing wind.

So, this was it. If Rey was still alive, this was where she was, barricaded in her old home. In her former prison.

"Rey," Kylo whispered. He glanced over the makeshift furniture she'd built for herself over the years, the withered desert plants, a scraggly orange doll sitting on a shelf. In another circumstance, he would have been fascinated by these manifestations of Rey's inner self. Now, though, he had no time.

"Rey?" He called louder this time and heard the wind howling outside in reply. The parasite may have let this last vestige of Rey survive, believing her to pose no threat, but now the danger was evident, and it wanted in.

But what was he looking for?

Nothing in the hammock, nothing in the sink, nothing in the cupboard, nothing-

There!

A blinking light caught Kylo's attention, nestled in one of the flower pots, the only one whose flower still had any colour left to it: a deep red on a blossom, drooping but still living.

Kylo approached the pot. It was as freezing in the AT-AT as it had been outside, great puffs of white leaving his mouth every time he let out a breath, but there was a welcome heat coming from the ball of golden yellow light.

The light was dim, and it flickered as if struggling to stay lit.

"Rey?" Kylo knelt by the pot, extended his hand and the light rolled into it, thawing his numbed fingers.

A sob escaped his lips. He curled the ball of light against his chest.

Outside, the wind pounded against the walls, rattling the AT-AT unit.

"Rey, you have to fight this," Kylo whispered to her. His entire body hunched protectively over her as he spoke. "I know you're still there. I know you still have the strength."

As he spoke, the light appeared to gain luminosity. As it burned brighter, he felt himself grow warmer, the abuse of the cold wind dwindled to a distant memory. Kylo smiled to himself and Rey. As he grew warmer, he grew weaker, and his eyelids began to droop. He fought to keep them open, but a part of him knew it was a losing battle.

He saw another light emerge, coming out of his core. His instinct was to tense, call it back to him, but he stopped himself, and relaxed again. He watched his light float up, and Rey's light flew out of his hands to meet it.

Outside, the angry, cold, blue wind battered the walls, howled, and shook the AT-AT unit. But inside, inside it was so warm. Sweat rolled down his forehead, soaked into his hair, and pooled in his lips.

The two lights danced around each other for a moment until, as the wind outside blew even faster and stronger, they moved closer and merged; rays of lights burst from its common core, shattering the AT-AT unit, and reaching out to the landscape beyond.

The strength of the explosion propelled Kylo back violently, and seconds before he found himself back in his bed, he felt his head land on soft, warm sand.

Kylo's head hit the wall forcefully as if the explosion from within Rey had shoved him out of her mind with momentum. His chest constricted painfully as he drew what breath he could, though it was not enough. His head felt empty and loud, and his vision spun nauseatingly. He understood he was in his bed, his back up against the wall, but he felt disoriented: sick, tired, and so, so weak. And he couldn't breathe.

Rey's eyes were open, and she was looking at him.

"What have you done?" She sounded angry, outraged, but Kylo couldn't bring himself to care. He felt no Life Force in him.

"Kylo, what have you done?" she screamed. She made out to strike him, maybe, or at least grab him, but something made her stop.

Kylo watched as instead, she turned over the side of the bed and retched all over the floor.

And then he lost consciousness.

He opened his eyes: nothing but piercing white light.

Next: pain. His entire body, being torn apart, stabbing, burning.

And a noise, incessant, roaring in his ears.

Darkness, again.

"Ben?"

A voice reached out to him, a sweet melody he had once known so intimately. Kylo so wanted to go to it, but it wasn't calling to him. It was calling to someone else.

"Ben, open your eyes."

Ben opened his eyes. That same white light, but less intense this time. He was in a bed, propped up against a pillow.

Beside him, a beautiful brunette with wide brown, expressive eyes sat, and when Ben looked down, he saw that she held his hand in hers.

Ben tried to move his fingers, and his hand responded to the command. No pain. Just the pleasant pressure of her skin on his.

"Rey?" He didn't recognize the sound or feel of his voice. His throat felt raw and abused. It hurt when he swallowed.

Rey smiled, and her eyes filled with tears.

"Hi, you," she said, then laughed.

Inexplicably, Ben felt himself smiling. He tried to think of where he was, where he had been, but all he could remember was the bright light and the blinding pain.

"Where am I?" He asked.

With her other hand, Rey cupped his face as the tears slipped from her eyes down her cheeks.

"You're home," she said. "You're home with me."

author's note: I was going to make Rey pregnant, like Force pregnant, because TBH I think every fic should end with Reylo babies, buuut that seemed overkill for just a two-shot, so I decided to be a responsible writer and go where the story told me to instead of forcing my will upon it.

So there we have it.

The end.