Hey, thanks for sticking with it. I joined a band, got kicked out, had a small chemical accident, went to see Deadpool 3 times. Really, i have no excuse. Special thanks to LadyStrdust for reminding me of the joy of writing these characters. Now I must finish what my grandfather started.

Chapter 8 - Captured

Waking up was hard. Kylo Ren's whole body felt heavy, like his limbs were made of lead. He opened his heavy eyelids, blinking in the harsh strip lights. The room he was in was small and nondescript, with no windows and a single reinforced plastiglass door. The door seemed largely unnecessary, as thick durasteel restraints wrapped around his arms, legs and torso, clamping him rigidly to an upright gurney. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed uncomfortably, a metal band around his neck tight and cold as a vice.

A raging headache assaulted him with the return of the brightness. He tried to sort through his disjointed memories to work out what had happened, how long he had been here - hours? Days? - and how he had come to be a wretched prisoner of the Resistance traitors. The order was all wrong, muddled with the haze of battle and bloodlust, and mired in confusion. But more worrying still were the blank periods where there were no memories at all - there were half recollections of certain people and places which were as holey as a Byss cheese.

A shadow fell across the metal wall of the cell as someone outside blocked the light from the corridor.

"Don't worry. Nobody knows you're down here."

Ren squinted, a disdainful smirk squirming down his features, a biting reply already forming on his tongue.

The figure stepped closer and resolved itself into a man who was much more grizzled than Ren remembered; face a little more tired, beard little more salt and pepper dusted, but still emanating that quiet power. His sunken yet hopeful blue eyes darted around his face, conflicting emotions clearly warring beneath the surface, but drinking in the sight of his nephew nonetheless.

"Good. That means I will only have to kill you" Ren rasped, voice gravelly from disuse. The expected insolence hung flat in the air between them, betraying the weak position he was in.

Luke sighed. "Ben, please. I'm trying to help."

"My name is Kylo Ren!" he growled.

"If it makes you happy, I will use the name given to you by those morally bereft 'Knights'. Regardless, my point still stands."

Ren scoffed. "Why would I want help from you, Skywalker? A witless old has-been who couldn't help anyone when it really mattered."

The barbed comment stung right where he had intended, and the wounded look on Luke's face was reward enough.

The older man turned away, controlling his features. There is no emotion - there is peace. He walked away a little, arms folded behind his back in a relaxed manner which belied the fact that he was interrogating a corrupted family member in a locked cell.

"Ren, you know I always tried my best. I admit I was partly to blame for your… desertion, and I accept that you must still harbour strong feelings towards me. Particularly since you have become influenced by Snoke, who I imagine has only worsened those deep-seated grievances."

"You're damn right about that." Ren subtly tested his bonds again, but the slight movement was still enough to send fiery twinges down his sides. He was too weakened from recent injuries to open the thick shackles by Force, and he couldn't sense anyone in the vicinity whom he might be able to influence - except his old master. He began lightly skimming Luke's thoughts, just to see if he could find any information on where he was being held.

Skywalker held up his hands. "Stop."

Kylo found himself forcibly ejected immediately. It was almost embarrassing, like getting caught snooping in a teacher's desk.

"You don't have many options right now. The First Order is in disarray, regrouping, but directionless. We have cut off the head of your poisonous serpent - Snoke is nowhere to be found. We've tried interrogating the others we captured from the base, but it seems they have no knowledge of where he might have gone. It would work in your favour to give us the information we need. "

Despite his deep reluctance to engage with his enemy, Ren blurted out "Others?"

Luke smiled grimly. "Yes. Several of your officers, and a certain General who is most unhappy to be here."

A sinking feeling dropped into Kylo's gut. For the first time, he began to feel worry creeping in.

"Why tell me this?"

"So that you realise that no one is coming to rescue you. This is serious - if I turn you in now, you will become a political prisoner. The Senate doesn't care who you're related to - you are wanted for a thousand and one crimes against the galaxy. Best case scenario - you spend the rest of your life mouldering away in a secure cell of some prison moon. And I'm sure you can imagine the worst case."

"Don't you think I know that?"

Ren's headache throbbed against his skull. He swallowed, suddenly dry mouthed and dizzy.

Skywalker's hard expression softened ever so slightly.

"Here."

Luke reached over to a small table and grabbed a foil-sealed juice pouch. Piercing it with a thin straw, he held it to Kylo's lips, looking for all the world like the doting uncle he used to be.

Reluctantly, he drank. The sweet juice soothed his burning throat and steadied his racing thoughts a little.

Suddenly, he had a treacherous thought. What if this was poisoned? What if all along Luke had been trying to trick him into submitting to some truth serum? It was just the kind of mental manipulation used by Jedi practitioners.

Paranoia gripped him, and he spat out the straw, coughing.

"Oh - for Force's sake." Luke swore, shaking juice drops from his long robes. "I'm not trying to kill you."

Ren remained thirsty and unconvinced.

"How long have I been down here?"

His uncle's weathered brow creased.

"Two days. I thought I'd let you stew in here a little, but you've been asleep since we brought you in. Tell me, Ren, were you injured in the fight? I can heal you, or at least fetch a medical droid."

"I'm fine. I would be even better if you would leave me alone." He replied maliciously, despising how obviously weak he looked.

Luke sighed yet again, evidently at something of a loss.

"Perhaps you would be more receptive to Rey. I believe she is very interested in talking to you."

At the mention of Rey, Kylo stiffened.

"No!" he cried as a sudden flush of adrenaline flooded his brain. "I mean, that is highly unnecessary. I will not betray my master, to you or - anyone."

Violent images flickered behind his eyes. No, stop thinking about it. Control yourself.

"Did you know that she is my new apprentice? Her aptitude for the Force is incredible. I haven't taught anyone with this much potential since you arrived at the Academy."

Kylo strained at his bonds. Listening to his former master talk about Rey was pure torture, both figuratively and literally. Bitterness and jealousy had poisoned his thoughts for years, seeded by the lack of attention paid to him by constantly squabbling parents, nurtured by the smug bullies of the Jedi Academy, and finally blossoming under Snokes vengeful guidance. His slow drift towards the dark was gradual, inevitable, and strangely comforting; like slipping into a warm bath.

But this wasn't that familiar ache of resentment and old grudges, which Ren could sink back into and use to his advantage. Every mention of the girl sent shooting needles down his nervous system like hateful fireworks. Snoke's claws had been resting lightly on his shoulders for many years, but now they were thoroughly hooked into his flesh. If only the damn Resistance had delayed their attack long enough for Snoke to finish with his training and release his agonising mental chokehold.

"Ren?"

He realised Luke had been saying something. He shook his head wearily, fighting to keep his mind his own.

"Master Luke?" A new voice, from outside the cell. A hated voice.

No. No. No. Don't come in.

"Ah, Rey. I was wondering where you had got to. He's finally awake."

She entered the room, wearing casual combat style clothing, her dirty blonde hair bundled in that distinctive Jakku style. The Light practically shone from her, electrifying the room with its strength. It suited her.

But fire brindled within his chest at the sight, and soon grew tall and rabid, like oxygen fueling an inferno. Ren sprang towards her, hands grasping for her pale throat - but, was stopped, mid leap, a metallic cage there again at his chest.

She jumped back, startled, and Luke placed a reassuring arm on her shoulder. She stared at Kylo, and then looked to Skywalker for reassurance.

His attuned senses just caught her whisper, "Master, what's wrong with him?"

Luke did not acknowledge her query, but addressed him instead. "In case you haven't noticed Ren, you aren't going anywhere. Your rage is impotent here - calm yourself."

All his being was focused on her, and all his being was focused on trying to avoid her unsettling gaze.

Inside his brain, his master's wishes sat fat and malicious as a tick, pumping out a continuous stream of toxins. Kylo couldn't fight them. Hands balled into fists unwantedly, clenching and unclenching.

She stepped forward a pace. He cringed from her proximity. "Um, Ren? Listen, I wanted to say, no hard feelings. I know I beat you pretty soundly back there, and you did murdere the closest thing I had to a father, but let's call it even. We need you to help us."

Snoke's gravelly voice roared murder in Kylo's head. After weeks of small whispered exposures, he'd thought himself immune. In the presence of Rey herself, it turned out he was not.

"No...:" he whispered, struggling in vain to turn his head away. In the absence of his lightsaber or objects to smash, he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Anything, anything to not have to look at the object of his vexation.

Suddenly, the coolness of a palm against his feverish forehead. Something tugged gently at the edge of his consciousness, and in his weakness, he let it in by mistake.

A pure calmness washed through his confused mind like rain in the desert. The scorching uncontrollable rage coursing through him seemed to dull in its sharpness.

Ren, please let me help. Something's eating you alive.

It's Luke.

He means to destroy your mind from within! Turn you into a witless wreck! Fight him! Destroy him!

Snoke's words, not his. Or were they? He wanted to kick him out, but was intrigued.

On my honour, I will not touch anything you don't want me to see.

It's been years since someone has been in his mind like this - friendly, not attacking, not manipulating, asking for an invitation. Ren vaguely recalled that among the Jedi it is generally considered necessary and polite to ask before entering the mind of another Force sensitive.

Show me.

Ren panicked, forcing away memories of his murderous time with the First Order to the side. Luke does not need to see these. Back, the slaughter of his irritating peers, sickening at first, then just horrifying, and finally numbing. Back, traveling with Hux and his Knights to innocent new worlds, enslaving, torturing, converting. Joy, and a taste of freedom, dizzying, terrifying, blood-soaked glory. He smoothed these passions to the side.

There, in Snoke's chambers. Screaming in the dirt. Even the mere memory of it hurt to recall. He shoved this towards Luke's connection, along with fuzzy, pain blurred images of Rey, trying not to touch them too much.

He felt astonishment across their link, followed by fury. Ren had rarely seen Luke get angry, it being a trait much frowned upon in the Light Side, and he was somewhat surprised and amused at this reaction.

Careful "Master". Anger leads to hate, and is one step along the path to the Dark Side.

Annoyance radiated from the old Jedi.

Ren, do not try my patience. This is a very serious matter.

Why do you care?

I would care about you if you were my greatest enemy. Nobody deserves this. Nobody.

Kylo felt Luke gently probing around the edges of the manipulated memories, obviously trying not to cause further damage.

Do whatever you must. I do not fear pain.

Good. Because this is probably going to hurt.