"Who do you think you are?"

Rey stared at him, her shoulders undulating with every panting breath she took. Beads of sweat perspired from her tousled hair and dripped down her forehead onto the marble floor cluttered with debris.

There was an eerie stalemate between the two of them that raised the hairs on Rey's arms. For the past ten minutes, the two of them had been fighting side by side harmoniously, synchronized so perfectly that Rey could feel a connection with the man that stood firmly in front of her now, with his right foot in front of his left.

Kylo Ren.

The room was littered in a massive clump of dead bodies. Rey refused to turn her head and witness the massacre and the lives that had been slain by her own hand, but her peripheral vision was more than enough. Broken armor and half-protruding limbs lay lifelessly on the ground. If the deceased Praetorian guards wore no helmets, Rey was sure she would be sick at the sight of their once-seeing eyes.

But if there was one image she forced her vision from, it was that of the slumped figure of Snoke. The mighty Supreme Leader, slain by his apprentice when he least expected it; an attack some might call desperate, and others luck. A pitiful huddle of vomit-colored robes and the protrusion of his marred, deformed head down to his severed ribcage were all that remained. She wouldn't need to look again. The image was permanently scarred in her mind for as long as she would live.

She had no idea what was going to happen.

The Force user standing before her was unreadable. She couldn't draw any sign of emotion, any flicker of recognition even if her scrutinizing meant her life was on the line. The connection she shared with him—the late night visions and shared whispers in her head, his singular taunts and seemingly-innocent questions that permeated throughout her being even though he was light years away—it was sealed shut, buried beneath his stoic mask he had erected.

"Who do you think you are?" he asked again.

Rey noted that he looked worse for the wear. His once-flowing black cowl and surcoat were ripped in sporadic places. Her eyes wandered. There was a dark stain slowly spreading at his left forearm—surely a lasting mark left by a deceased guard. If Rey wasn't so focused on the situation at hand, she would have been flooded with uncertain worry, even after everything that had happened.

Kylo Ren took a step towards her. She viewed this as a threat.

Now was no longer the time to allow others to walk over her. She refused to back down, and instead perched on the balls of her feet, waiting for what would come next.

"Search within yourself," he said, voice strangely soft. "You know it."

"No," Rey refused, shaking her head. "You're wrong." Inside, years of quiet anticipation were slowly beginning to crack and melt away into a rotted pit of emptiness. She could feel the tears begin to creep up in her already-jostled, unhinged emotional state, and she hurriedly blinked them away.

Kylo Ren stared at her. And then he opened his mouth.

"Do you know the truth about your parents? Or have you always known? You've just hidden it away. Say it."

"No," she denied.

"Your parents? Nothing more than filthy junk traders. They sold you off to continue funneling their drinking habits. They're dead in a pauper's grave in the Jakku desert. You had no place in this story."

"You're wrong," she snarled, briefly letting her emotions get the best of her. She let the flames lick her words. "You're wrong."

But even as she said this, a sinking feeling blossomed into her stomach until her insides opened into a dark pit and her guts dropped into them. Perhaps she knew it all along, and was in serious denial…were the tallies etched into the inner hull of the AT-AT she lived in for her hope, or were they for her sanity?

Rey didn't know what to think. The only memory regarding her prepubescent years on Jakku that wasn't a blurry mass was the one flashback she had after leaning in and touching Anakin Skywalker's lightsaber in Maz's dungeons on Takodana. It was the memory of her toddler self pleading with a no-face, imploring to whoever was leaving her on the desert wasteland in the harnesses of Unkar Plutt to reconsider their actions. She could feel his arm now—the wretched, dirty grip of Plutt's palm around her right upper arm.

If it was someone she had seen since growing up, wouldn't she have already realized? Wouldn't she have already realized if it was Luke, or General Organa, or—and her stomach continued to plummet—Han Solo?

She was nobody.

As if Kylo read her mind, he retorted, "You know I am right. Search within yourself. You know it to be true. Do you really believe that a little girl would be left on Jakku for over a dozen years if her parents had any intentions of returning? Your parents were nobodies. You are no one."

Rey's self-pity began to simmer away and her fists started tightening. She opened her mouth, but before she could take action, Kylo interrupted.

"But," he stressed, his right side twitching.

Rey stayed silent, unsure of what was to come. If the situation wasn't so momentous, she would have laughed. Here they were, surrounded by ripped shreds of darkness, and yet all they could do was have a soft, quietly-spoken miniature conversation in the middle of a room that could encompass hundreds, if not thousands, of people.

"You are somebody to me. I have seen your potential. I have seen what you are capable of. This link we have between us—there is a reason for this. You know I am right."

Kylo moved forward a step, and Rey briskly tensed. Seeing her response seemed to spurn him on, however, and he let out a rare vulnerability that befuddled her. He stretched his arm forward and unclenched his hand, letting his palm rest face up in an obvious gesture.

"Join me. Come with me." His whisperings betrayed nothing, but Rey thought she detected just a sliver of pleading. A sliver of him begging.

"Take my hand. We can rule the galaxy side by side. Together, we can end this war. Please."

Rey's eyes flickered down to his outstretched, gloved hand. For a split second, she seriously debated on moving forward and slipping her hand into his. To be shuttled away and frisked away from all these troubles, these burdens—these constraints and responsibilities. Although Snoke was dead, the First Order was not. They would continue clashing with the Resistance until one side triumphed over the other. But if Rey took his hand, then perhaps there would still be salvation in the galaxy. And not only that, but there was something else calling out to her—Kylo Ren himself. As much as she hated to admit, they did share a connection. Her mind hazily drew a memory of seeing him shirtless in his quarters during one of the few moments where they had managed to see inside each other's heads—and then her demeanor abruptly changed.

No. She would not—could not—accept. They walked on two separate paths, each leading further and further away from each other until they both existed as whole antagonists to one another. She knew this. And she was sure he did too.

She knew her next action was against all Jedi code, but Rey acted on her instincts. There was something off and deranged about Kylo. He would not see logic. There would be no reason to explain; trying to help him understand was futile.

She lifted her hand. Across from her, she saw Kylo's eyes dance.

And then the hilt of Luke's lightsaber flew from behind him.

Kylo's eyes widened for a fraction of a second and then it clicked. He dodged his head to the side, narrowly missing the speedy hum of the lightsaber as it flew over to Rey's waiting hand. But she was not going to get away that easily.

He pushed out with his hand, and the lightsaber froze. Rey saw this, and her teeth clenched together.

Both of them stood still, reveling in the mental battle. Not one word was said. Each of their concentrations were solely exercised on the hovering hilt in between the two of them.

They were evenly matched. And above that, they were equals.

Rey would not let her focus drop. She could not let her focus drop. For nearly a dozen years, the man across him had been wreaking havoc and striking fear into all who opposes him. He killed and maimed, and slaughtered and beheaded those who refused the First Order. And he cherished it.

The entire Resistance relied on her. They had faith in her and she was not going to let them down

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a faint smirk work its way onto his face. And this was enough for her to lose control.

"No!"

The lightsaber ultimately made its choice. The black leather, gloved hand wrapped tightly around Luke's weapon.

"I win."

Rey saw red. This wasn't anything like she had ever experienced before—not when she was held within a foot of Snoke, or when she was fighting the Praetorian guards for her freedom. No, this red was primal. It was feral. This red seeped into her lungs until all she could breathe was hatred. This red swarmed around her body until she was coated head to toe in raging anger. This red took control of her until she could no longer identify as Rey, the scavenger, from Jakku.

The lightsaber seemingly exploded at light speed out of Kylo Ren's hands into Rey's ready one. She caught the lightsaber and hastily turned it on.

"No," she said. "Not yet."

The two of them stared at each other for what seemed like eternity. Rey was unwilling to move first, and by the looks of things, neither was Kylo. Rey was not quite sure whether this was because making the first move would dish out a weakness or disadvantage of sorts, or whether she simply did not want to fight him.

But then the next thing she knows, he's on her, and she barely has time to raise her arm up in defense before she hears the indescribable howl and sizzle as their blades collided.

Oh, the heat was overwhelming. With her naturally shorter than Kylo, he held the upper ground. Both of his hands were wrapped around his red, pulsing lightsaber, and it was immovable against Rey's. Her posture leaned backward sloppily at the sheer force that Kylo put into his attack.

She wouldn't be able to win. Whereas Rey based her fighting style flimsily off teachings from Luke, Kylo fought with pure, unadulterated savagery. She was constantly on the defensive, and constantly shirked beneath her lightsaber as Kylo bashed from above time after time again, until she was whittled to the very end.

Somehow, in between another one of his attacks, she managed to avoid his attack and do something else that surprised him. Rey slithered to his left, almost as fast as a snake, and before he could accurately adjust his strike, she disappeared from his line of sight.

Rey suddenly launched an offensive attack, stepping forward and brandishing the saber in her hand as she attempted to jab him. Kylo, originally taken off guard, recovered quickly enough to lazily brush her attack to the side, causing her saber to glisten off the floor and splutter sparks.

Rey screamed and continued her assault. But no matter what she did, he seemed one step ahead of her. She raised both of her hands up with the lightsaber to mimic his attack on her earlier, but instead of gaining the upper hand and pushing him down, Kylo simply outmaneuvered her and then Force pushed her back into the wall.

Rey crashed into the hard surface and all the breath escaped from her lungs. The lightsaber left her hand and went off when her body went slack. She fought to refocus her vision. She wasn't going to let him win that easily.

Dimly, she was aware of the soft treading of Kylo's boots against the marble surface. He walked forward slowly until he was a few feet from her before turning off his lightsaber. A stupendous pause ensured, until he finally broke it.

"Enough."

Rey grimaced.

"You are clearly outclassed, and you are in no condition to fight," Kylo snarled. "This is over."

She ignored the stabbing pain in her side. While he was talking, Rey gathered her bearings and lifted her dominant foot so that her sole was pressing against the wall. He gave no sign of recognition.

"I thought I'd play nicely, but the time for that has long passed. You will—"

He didn't get to finish his sentence, for Rey called the lightsaber to her, turned it on, and with an extra thrust from her foot, pushed off the wall and into Kylo. He ignited his lightsaber just in time, and the two of them clashed into a deadlock.

"Stubborn girl," he hissed. Both of their lightsabers were inches away from making contact with one another as they struggled in a renewed battle for power to overcome the other.

Rey bared her teeth and pushed even harder, refusing to say anything. She would not even let him savor in a victory of any sorts, even if it was slight. The two swayed back and forth, neither giving up any ground. Rey poured all of her energy and Force into trying to overpower him, and through her inner sensing, she could tell he was doing the same.

From deep within, she felt the hidden anger rise again. Betraying Luke's teachings once was a big deal, but now that she had already done it, the second time was much easier. She let the anger swarm into herself just as she had a few minutes ago, and let it add fuel to the fire. Kylo recognized this all too late.

With a monumental push, Rey shoved him backwards. Kylo stumbled, but gathered his bearings not a second too soon.

Rey began turning to gather momentum so that when she completed the rotation, her swing could make contact with extra speed and strength.

But she never got the chance to, for when her back was facing her enemy, her movements became restricted. She became restricted not by the Force, but by his firm arms.

He pulled her backward and let their natural momentum carry them to the wall. His back made a heavy thud, but he made no attempt to let her go.

"Silly girl," he said.

Rey could feel one of his powerful arms firmly wrap around her thin waist. Her back was pressed tightly into his chest, severely limiting the range of motion she had with her arms.

"Let me go!" she shouted, thrashing wildly. She could feel panic rising to her throat at how constricted she was. She couldn't move a single limb. One of her arms were pinned by her side, under his restricting one that wound its way around her waist. Her hopes were dashed even more when his free arm jumped to the wrist that held her lightsaber above her head in a position to strike. He squeezed. Hard.

She screamed, and in the mind-numbing pain, dropped her lightsaber. It bounced to the ground, where it turned off and lay uselessly. Out of reach.

"Scavenger," Kylo murmured.

"Let me go!" she repeated, wildly buckling her hips and twisting her wrist in a desperate attempt to worm it out of his grasp. "You're a monster! I will never join you!"

An animalistic growl erupted from Kylo's lips and he pulled Rey even closer to him, if possible. They were now so close that Rey could feel the hot air leaving his mouth berating and tickling across the small hairs on the back of her neck.

And then suddenly, Rey's shouts turned into quiet subdue. There was something strangely familiar with the way he was holding her right now, and she couldn't help but allow the fight to escape her, like water from the palm of her hand. There was something raw about this. Something comforting.

Rey opened her eyes. Her back was drenched in sweat. The room was dark. Her surroundings were silent. She shuffled her feet, and a new sound perpetuated her ears.

Her fingers made contact with the thin sheet of fabric that was draped loosely over her body. She had never touched fabric of this caliber before, given her life on Jakku, and yet, the sensation felt so usual. With a start, she realized she was laying on her back, in a bed.

She glanced around, willing her eyes to adjust to the darkness, but they were failing her. The room was too dark. It was suffocating. She had to find the light switch. So she sat up.

Or, tried.

There was something draped over her bare chest, and whatever it was, the weight was preventing her from sitting up.

"What are you doing, awake at this hour?"

She turned her head around to where the voice originated from. She couldn't see anything, but her guess was affirmed by the firm, calloused hand that lifted off her chest and cupped her around her cheek.

"Kylo." Rey sat up and lifted her knees to her chest before wrapping her arms around her legs.

"Yes?"

"We were fighting…in Snoke's throne room. It's n—nothing. Just a bad dream."

Kylo's hand released, and an involuntary whimper escaped Rey's lips. The bedsheets rustled for a few seconds until they were thrown off the two of them, and then Kylo sat up as well. She could feel his thoughts beckoning, so she loosened herself, and allowed him to take her hand.

"Come here," he murmured. Rey obliged. He gently pulled Rey closer to him until she was straddling his lap and at an equal height to his. She tucked her head against the inside of his clavicle, under his cheek. Her breaths began to slow and she breathed in his scent fanning over her face from the close proximity they were in. Maker, it was intoxicating.

She felt him press his forehead against hers.

"N—n—no."

Rey's eyes had always been open, but now they were working again. She was back in Snoke's throne room, in the reality of things. It took her several seconds of trying to get her brain caught up to speed, and when she did, she realized she was still locked in Kylo's grasp.

"You had a Force vision."

Rey shivered. The air from the words spoken by the voice behind her tickled the back of her neck. She managed to whirl around and caught sight of Kylo Ren standing tall, a head's length above her. He smirked.

"A what?" Rey asked, conflicted and confused at the feelings encapsulated inside her chest. At this point in time, the last thing she wanted to do was fight. It had all escaped her. She wanted answers.

"A Force vision," Kylo repeated. "What you saw was merely the future."

Rey stared at him for a long moment and then shook her head. Nothing could have prepared her for this. No amount of mental fortitude or training from Luke would have helped ease the shock and overwhelming feeling of helplessness circulating around her like a venomous fog. "No. You're wrong."

"Am I? The vision speaks the truth, not us."

"No. This is another one of Snoke's tricks—he's manipulating our emotions and making us see things that are untrue."

"Snoke is no longer with us."

That's when she truly realized where she was. For the first time since coming out of her vision, she realized how their bodies still entwined within one another. His hand was no longer lying flat over her stomach. Instead, both of his hands were gently settled on her hips and each one was softly pressed against each hipbone. She willed herself to calm down, but to no avail—her cheeks flamed crimson and she couldn't prevent herself from focusing on how easily the top of her head fit under the crook of his chin. Like a lock and key.

She furiously untangled herself from within him. A small part of her was surprised he'd actually let her go. He didn't seem like the kind of person who was willing to let something he wanted walk away. And judging by the sharp glance in his eyes, she was something, no, someone, he did not want leaving.

Rey retracted her steps until there were a solid ten paces between them. She called to the Force and her lightsaber flew to her waiting hand. She gripped it firmly and thought twice about what she should do, before finally latching it to her side. Kylo Ren spent the entire time examining her face, making no move to stop her during any of this. After she was done organizing herself, she finally returned the gesture into his eyes.

"You're wrong," she repeated over and over again, like a mantra.

"Believe what you wish. I, however, grow tired of this childish bickering," was his only retort.

Rey shook her head. "I don't care. There's no way that is ever happening. You are evil. You kill people out of spite. You claim lives, men, women, and children alike. You are rotten from the core and a repulsive, disgusting monster and I will never—"

Rey choked on her words. Why couldn't she finish her spiel? It was going so well, until she found herself unable to say the remaining words.

"Say it," Kylo pressed, his voice adopting a softer tone to it.

"No," she growled. "Visions change. They aren't set in stone," she recited, pulling out the phrase from what Luke had told her.

Kylo Ren growled harder than she did and a chill rose into her spine.

"You are too hardheaded for your own good. It is fairly obvious that we will be unable to reach an ultimatum. So be it." He took a menacing step toward her, but then something seemed to stop him.

Rey's hand had shot to her side when he advanced forward, but when she saw him stop, she slightly relaxed.

"Next time we see each other, scavenger, I will not be so lenient." At Rey's scoff, he frowned. "Remember, desert rat. I showed you mercy, and I expect your debt to be repaid." And with that, Kylo Ren turned around. With his boots clicking on the floor, he left the throne room, just as the ship began to shake and the roof began to crumble into pieces.

Rey stood still, alone in the room with only the deceased and the falling debris as her company, for a few more minutes before gathering her wits. She traced back her steps to the from the throne room down the numerous passageways and their twisting turns that she had encrypted into her mind when led to Snoke an hour ago. The time she spent retracing her steps back to the hangar was spent in static silence as she pondered how the Resistance fared. The time she took settling into one of the last unscorched First Order supply ships and scanning through the controls before figuring out how to pilot the vehicle was spent contemplating the future of the First Order. And the time she spent piloting the ship where the other Resistance transports were headed—an old Rebel Alliance base on Crait—was spent reflecting on her interaction with Kylo Ren and where they stood.

She couldn't help but think back to the throne room, and how one moment of trying to kill each other could drastically turn the opposite direction into the two of them holding each other, almost like they cared for one another. How the man before her could have the temper of an unhinged maniac one second, and confuse her with his perplexity the next. She couldn't put her finger on it until she maneuvered safely out of the wreckage that was perpetually exploding around her.

For the first time she had ever known him, Kylo Ren sounded like he was at a loss for words.