Death Sticks

"Rey?"

She jumped. Shit, she hadn't even noticed Finn walk up to her. She was so wrapped up in being…somewhere else…that she had lost all awareness of her surroundings. Oh, this was bad. She was in deep.

"Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. Can I sit?"

Tell the traitor to GO AWAY.

She nodded and gestured at the chair across from her.

"Muffin?" Finn asked, holding out a plate.

She smiled and took the offered pastry. "Thanks."

Why did you let him sit down? We just started. I need you.

I'm in the kriffing cafeteria. It's breakfast time here, so sorry. I can't stop what I'm doing and get you off right now.

We'll see.

She growled and turned the muffin over and over in her hands, staring at it intently. Bran. Healthy. Hearty. Wholesome.

"You're supposed to eat it," Finn said with a lopsided smile.

"Huh?"

"Eat it. You know, put it in your mouth?"

Mmm. Yes, put it in your mouth Rey. Or maybe you'd like to have something else in your mouth?

Shut up!

She took a huge, angry bite of the muffin and chewed. It was like eating sand. She and Finn sat in awkward silence.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "Rey, I'm worried about you. You've been acting…odd."

"Odd? What do you mean?"

"You're distracted, jumpy…like you're lost in your own world. You don't eat, I don't think you're sleeping much based on the bags under your eyes…"

No, she wasn't sleeping much. He knew when she got in bed, and he whispered things to her…seductive, delicious things that he wanted to do with her. She tried to resist, and usually she could when she was awake, ignoring the throbbing ache between her legs. But when she went to sleep, he was there, in her dreams, except they were more than dreams…she could feel the heat of his skin, smell the scent of his body, as real as when she had been in that damn interrogation room – fire and metal and leather and something else, something she couldn't – didn't want to - resist. She never resisted in her dreams. She wanted him. Needed him. Craved his touch, his kisses, his mouth, his cock, doing things to her she had never heard of before, things that went far beyond the awkward gropings she had experienced on Jakku. Things that made her feel like a star going supernova, and then left her limp with pleasure.

She craved him, his intensity, his fascination, his longing. Needed him as much as he needed her, even though she would never admit it. She had told herself it didn't matter, because it wasn't real. They were dreams. She wasn't responsible for things she did in dreams.

But gradually, he had started popping into her head when she was still awake, wanting her, needing her, lonely and desperate to sleep and, well, she knew what that felt like. What harm was there in spinning a little fantasy to help him? And more and more often, she had laid in her little Resistance-issued cot, her hand sliding down inside her Resistance-issued sleep pants, touching herself while he described all the things he wanted to do to her, wanted her to do to him – depraved, dark things, sometimes, but also things that sounded so tender and beautiful they made her weep as she came.

He started showing up more and more, during the day as well as at night. And she gave in more and more.

She knew she had a problem.

"Rey? Please, tell me what's wrong," Finn said, his face so earnest and full of concern.

"You're right, Finn. Something is wrong. I…I think I'm…addicted to…something. Something…unhealthy."

Rey. What are you doing? There was a warning tone in the voice in her head, a threat, but also, a plea.

She threw up her mental shields as best she could, tried to block him out.

Finn's brow furrowed. "What?"

She bit her lip. Of course she wasn't going to tell him the truth but…maybe he could help her, if she made a small change. "Umm. Death sticks."

His eyes widened. "Death sticks? Where are you even…never mind. I don't want to know. Those things are dangerous. They'll kill you. Plus I've heard they mess with your connection to the Force. I'm guessing that'd be especially bad for you."

She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. "Yeah. It is. I need to stop, I do. It's not right. Finn, will you help me? I need to break the habit before…before it's too late."

She could feel waves of fury pounding against her mind, clawing at her consciousness, demanding to get in, but she clenched her fists and held him off.

"Of course. I'm your best friend."

She nodded. "You are."

"What can I do?" Finn asked.

"Just be there for me. Hold me accountable."

Finn nodded. "I can do that. Uh, anything I can do right now? You look kinda sick."

He was pounding at her mental shields, the rage tinged with fear as she kept blocking him. She was shaking with the effort.

"N…no. Not now." The howling madness in her mind strengthened. She couldn't concentrate. "I…I need some air. I think I'll go for a walk. But just know that…that I appreciate you being there for me." She fled the mess hall, fear-induced nausea curling in her stomach. She wasn't sure if it was her fear or his.

As soon as she was outside the walls, she let her shields down. A tidal wave of emotion – anger and fear mostly, but also hurt and loneliness and self-loathing – washed over her. It was so strong it made her dizzy, and she fell to her knees, hands over her eyes, until it abated.

Death sticks? His voice was snide. That's what I am to you?

Finn could tell something was wrong. Everyone can. I'm a mess. I'm preoccupied and distant and groggy all the time because…because all I can think about is you. I'm miserable.

I know. I feel it too. It's because we're meant to be together. Come to me. It would be…ecstasy. His voice was so low, barely more than a deep rumble, and she could feel her panties getting wet just from hearing it.

I can't. I won't.

Please. Rey, you know it's what we both need. Join me. Let me be your teacher. Together we can…

Don't say it.

Fine. But you know it's true. And I need you.

Then you come to me. Give up the First Order. We can be together. Here.

You know better. They would try me. Probably execute me, or at least lock me away. If I came back I would never have you, and I must. I must have you! His voice was loud in her head, pulsing with emotions that ran through her as well.

She scrubbed a hand over her face and tried to make sense of it all.

Things had been going well.

Luke had been surprisingly acquiescent when Rey had asked him to come back to the Resistance and train her. He hadn't been pleased, exactly, but after she told him her story, told him what his sister was going through, he had given her a gentle, resigned smile and said, "Let's go home."

'Home' was no longer D'Qar. That location had been compromised, so while Rey, Chewie and Artoo were following the map to Luke, Leia was burying yet another heartbreak and coordinating a full-scale evac to the Hyborean moon, where they would build a new base in an old Imperial black-site prison. It was a promising location that had been scouted years ago. Despite having once been in Imperial hands, the Hyborean moon had been controlled by the New Republic since just after Endor, abandoned almost as long, and was far from the Core and the busy shipping lanes. The old prison had a hangar, mess hall, offices, cells that could be converted to housing, and easily-repairable infrastructure. With not too much work, it would prove to be an excellent, secure facility.

Rey had been on the moon now for three cycles around the planet Hybor, which also meant three lunar 'days' since the moon, like most, was tidally locked with its planet and took as long to rotate around its own axis as it did to revolve around its partner. That meant that for half the cycle – fifteen standard days - it was day and for the other half, night.

Inside the prison, there were few windows, and artificial lighting ran on a standard cycle meant to mimic an average planetary day and night. Most people stayed inside, because if they ventured outside the prison walls at midnight standard time, they might step into bright, glaring sun, or if they wanted to take a walk before breakfast, they may find themselves in deepest dark.

It was disconcerting.

Other than that, the moon was lovely, with a comfortable if slightly thin atmosphere that made the daytime sky a brilliant deep blue, accented by Hybor looming large and deep reddish-purple off the horizon. The moon had a cool, temperate climate with tall, lush trees and steaming hot-spring lakes. The homes of Imperial officers had once ringed the lakes, but they were nothing but rubble now, destroyed in what Leia termed an 'over-zealous assault' on the facility, a shadow of disapproval and second-hand shame flickering over her face.

Rey often slipped outside the towering durasteel walls of the prison and walked along the shoreline, picking her way through the ruined houses, scavenging for things that might prove useful to the Resistance. It was a small way she could contribute, along with pitching in as a mechanic when needed, although she was rarely asked. Her training with Luke was too important, she was told, but she feared she wasn't pulling her weight. So she scavenged. She scoured the destroyed houses, now covered with twining vines that were trying to reclaim them, as if nature itself wanted to obliterate any trace of the Empire's presence. She was not bothered by the ghosts of the past here any more than she had been on Jakku. War brought death raining from the skies and the living picked through the pieces left behind. She had always known this. It was simply a fact.

Besides, she just needed to get away from people sometimes.

There were so many of them, and she felt them, their feelings, their thoughts, pressing around her, clamoring for her attention, smothering her with their expectations and hopes and fears. She, ironically, wanted to be alone sometimes now – or as alone as she could ever be anymore.

That was why she found herself by the lakeshore now, her feet taking her there automatically as her mind struggled to decide what to do. Physical labor always helped her make sense of things, so she went to work.

She walked up a path that had once led to a home, climbed over a partial wall, her hands getting smudged and grimy from the scorched stone, and dropped into what had obviously once been a child's room. There was the durasteel frame of a tiny bed; here was melted plastisteel in bright primary colors - what had once been a toy liquefied into a swirling rainbow ooze, hardened again into something strange and beautiful. She reached down and picked up the bright lump, ran her thumb over it, and dropped it into her satchel. She moved on, out of the child's room into what had been a kitchen, a sink and cooker and conservator now overgrown with the moon's ubiquitous vines.

Rey went through the house methodically, searching every cupboard and corner. She found some useful things: power cells; cabling; ration packs that weren't swollen or leaking and didn't smell spoiled; several bottles of spirits; a barely-singed winter coat and a stack of survival blankets.

She had also found the melted rainbow and a tiny blown-glass flower with only one petal broken off that she would keep for herself, adding them to the small stash of treasures on the shelf above her bed in the converted prison cell that served as her quarters. Some of the others complained about the cells, but she didn't understand why. They were clean and comfortable, with a real bed and a convenient refresher down the hall.

This…whatever it was (relationship? affair? seduction?)…had been going on since the trip to Ahch-To. Well, if she were completely honest, it had been going on since Starkiller, but she didn't really count that, because neither of them had understood, then.

It didn't take him long to figure it out.

At first it was just a presence, a feeling of being watched.

Then sensations – pain, hunger…arousal. Then emotions that weren't her own. Then snippets of thoughts. And finally, communication. Words meant for her, sent with intention:

Join me. Let me be your teacher. You have so much power; I can show you how to reach your full potential. My every thought is full of you – your power, your presence, your scent. You're meant to be with me; it is the will of the Force. That's why we're connected like this. Together we could be unstoppable. Together we could be whole. Come to me.

She had resisted, even though she felt the weight of truth, of something deeper than truth, in what he said.

Then the dreams had started, and…she had let herself enjoy them. Let herself touch and taste and revel in his obsession.

That had been a mistake.

She plucked flowers from the vines, braiding them into chains and twining them in her hair before she left the burned house, hurrying down the front walk, past a post box with a name on it in faded letters: Kress? Krass? It was too old and dull to make out.

She wandered back down to the lake, leaning over to scrub the ash and dirt from her hands, then letting the water still and peering at herself in the glassy surface of the lake.

The eyes that looked back at her were not her own.

A crown suits you, but you deserve jewels.

I prefer the flowers, she snapped.

Then I'll give you a garden.

She didn't respond, but she felt something inside her soften. He made her weak. Was that his intention, she wondered? Was it calculated, premeditated, meant to tempt her? Or did she make him weak, too?

Steam rose off the lake as the heat from the underground springs dissipated into the cool air. It was twilight on the Hyborean moon – a twilight that would last for several standard days – and the air was crisp. Silence stretched as she sat, trailing her fingers in the water. She longed to slip off her clothes and slide into the hot water, letting him see and feel it as she dipped her body lower and lower, letting the water cover her legs, her hips, her breasts…longed to let him in so she could feel his hands caressing each part of her under the water. But she shouldn't. This had gotten out of hand and it had to stop. It was dangerous. The pull toward him got stronger every day. She had to get control of herself.

Kylo?

No answer.

Kylo, you have to understand. I can't keep doing this. It's driving me mad. I feel…disloyal. Kylo, please, I can't go on like this. It's…

Tearing you apart?

She blinked, shocked. Yes.

I know. I KNOW. That's why we need to be together. Come to me.

No. I won't. I don't want to be…She stopped.

Like me? He gave a short, unpleasant laugh.

Something shifted, and his presence felt colder.

Fine. I'll be waiting when you finally admit the truth to yourself. He withdrew, leaving an echoing silence inside her.

He was gone. He had given her what she wanted and she felt bereft. She sat on the shore and cried until she was so cold her fingers and toes were numb, then she trudged back to the base with her satchel of salvage.

Hyborean moon: The Hyborean Moon was mentioned briefly in Aftermath: Life Debt. I was searching for a location for a new Resistance base for this story, decided I wanted it to be in an old prison for no reason other than 'why not' (and, okay, symbolism), and here was the Hyborean moon, with no other backstory except it was "a moon that served as the site for an Imperial black-site prison during the Galactic Civil War. The moon also contained housing for Imperial employees and hot spring lakes that were a favorite recreational site. Following the Battle of Endor, a New Republic fleet attacked the Imperial facilities on the Hyborean Moon and liberated the prison. Romwell Krass Junior [an Imperial officer whose family was killed in what sounded like an overzealous attack by the New Republic] was forced to flee offworld into hiding" (Wookiepedia). And that gave me the perfect setting for this story! The planet this moon orbits wasn't named, so I picked Hybor. And no location was given so I decided it was out of the way and private.

Tidal locking: So being me, I had to research all the details of how moons work. Do they rotate on their axis (Yes)? How long is a day/night (Long!)? And what I found out made the setting even more perfect: Most moons are tidally locked with their planet. This results in one hemisphere of the revolving object constantly facing its partner, an effect known as synchronous rotation. For example, the same side of the Moon always faces the Earth. A tidally locked body in synchronous rotation takes just as long to rotate around its own axis as it does to revolve around its partner (Wikipedia). So basically, a lunar day lasts a month (based on how long our moon takes to circle the earth). So I kept the 'month' and transferred all that to the Hyborean moon, and I think I got it all 'right' but…gah…there's math. And that gave me a place where day and night are…off. Confusing. There's still half light and half dark but it isn't what is considered a 'standard' day/night cycle on Earth OR in Star Wars. And I liked that.

Why is the sky blue?: Yes, I actually looked this up. Short answer: The molecules of oxygen and nitrogen in the air scatter light and make it look blue. And there has to be an atmosphere for humans to breathe, so of course I gave the Hyborean moon one, but a thinner atmosphere would look darker blue, so I decided to go with that, just to look cool.

Next chapter will be from Kylo's POV. I'm sure he'll react to all of this in a mature, rational manner.

A million thank you's to my beta Perry Downing for encouraging me to publish this and helping me wrangle it into shape. It did not want to cooperate.

Reviews are so totally appreciated. I crave them like Kylo craves Rey. Well, maybe not that bad, but…a lot. J