Be With Me

Chapter One.

Rey kept some things to herself.

After Master Luke had blown up upon seeing her and Kylo projecting and almost touching hands, she'd known it would disturb the others too much to know how easy it had become for them to find one another.

It was so easy now. In fact, it was harder for one to hide from the other now—which made Rey always on her guard. It had changed the game between them, forced her to use the Force to hide herself when she needed to in order to keep everyone safe—which only made her grow stronger in it. Kylo had remarked to her, with that disconcerting sort of pride he sometimes had when he spoke to her about her power, that she made it hard for him to find her… hard but not impossible.

And, then, sometimes… Sometimes she didn't make it hard. And this was the secret.

Sometimes all she wanted was to see him, and feel him…near, but not near. Sometimes all she wanted was to feel the way he looked at her. No one in her whole life had ever looked at her the way he did. As if he were the first person to ever see her. His eyes could be so black and then turn so warm. His voice could be so cold, and then turn so tender… It made her head spin, it made her defenses rise even as she yearned to pull closer to him.

And it made her heart race.

Sometimes she wondered if Leia would understand…and sometimes she would catch the General watching her with her wise, seeing eyes, and she was sure she knew. She would almost ask her, because it wasn't natural for Rey to not seek Leia's guidance on all things. She was her Master, her mentor…her mother. It felt wrong and out of order. But then she thought, what if she told her to stop? What if even Leia, who wanted her son back so badly could not risk the safety of The Rebellion by allowing this…whatever it was. Rey knew Leia had believed Ben was reachable before.

Before he killed his father.

But did she now? Every time Rey remembered this truth, she felt so much pain she could hardly bare it—so how did Leia continue to stand? Continue to lead an army against her son, whom she loved and mourned so much? She couldn't imagine.

So Rey said nothing. She kept it a secret because she couldn't explain to all of them—not even Leia- how she knew that Ben Solo was still reachable. She couldn't tell them that she felt such a bond with this Dark Prince of the Dark Side, this monster who had killed Han—how could they understand? It would rightly scare them as it scared Luke, as it scared her. Their hearts would not race in the same way hers did, and she couldn't explain to them that she knew—somehow it was true—that he loved her.

And Kylo could not love.

So it was Ben. He was still there, and she could reach him.

/

For all his power with the Force, Kylo Ren was human, and humans needed sleep. Even him. But sleep was never easy for him. She haunted him, the scavenger.

That impossible, frustrating girl.

He would lay trying to slip into the few hours of sleep he allowed himself…and her face would come. At first it was just her face—his memory, his imagination, his weakness—calling her imagine forth. He thought about her when his rage was quieted in these sleeping hours. He tried to ignore at first the feeling it gave him—he wasn't sure when he'd felt it last—was it peace?

It couldn't be. Kylo Ren needed no peace.

…And yet. And yet he kept coming back to it. Trying to find her, somewhere out there hiding from him. He soon had to admit to himself, it wasn't because he wanted to kill her. It was because he wanted her with him.

To be with him.

He wanted it as much as he wanted all the power in the universe.

More?

He pushed the thought from his mind.

No. The way his Grandfather had wanted his Grandmother—because it was destiny—he realized it almost as soon as he met her, although he couldn't name it then. Then, she had felt like a threat to his path. He sensed the Force within her, and it threatened him… But now he understood. She was a threat, but she was also meant for him. And once he came to know this, it was just a matter of time. His will would win out as it always did. He would make her understand as he had.

Destiny…

Kylo's chest tightened, though, when he thought of Rey's eyes after they'd fought together—like dancers, coordinated and flowing in the Force—and she'd realized he never intended to turn to the Light with her, but instead reached for her hand and begged her to join him. Oh, the disappointment. He'd seen it before. Disappointment, he believed, was part of who he was. It was fine. Once she turned to the Dark Side, she would know he'd been right to hold strong for them. Together they would rule everything.

He pushed her wounded eyes away, and closed his own.

He pushed his mind out into the void, searching…

/

Rey was alone in her tent under the trees, on Ajan Kloss. Without admitting why she'd set her own tent so far from the others, she allowed them to believe it was so she could have quiet to mediate with the Force. Jedi were sometimes hermits, wasn't that true? So they let her be.

She only called him to her when she was in the tent because he couldn't see her surroundings—this is what she told herself… Sometimes when she was training, and her guard was down, she could feel him trying to reach her. This is when she became scared and pushed back at him, hard. If he were to catch some hint of the canopy, some creature unique to the planet, he might be able to find the Rebels hiding here—find Leia, Po and Finn- and she would not allow this. Ever.

But, alone in her tent…

"There you are."

She opened her eyes, and tuned her head on her pillow to find him. So close, lying on his side facing her.

"Don't you ever put on a shirt?" He didn't answer her, but he let a very slight lift of one side of his mouth show. She allowed herself to take in the hint of his dimple. Ben.

"I can't sleep. You steal my sleep," he accused her.

"I once heard a saying from some world…there is no rest for the wicked." His mouth became serious again at her words.

"Is that why you can't sleep?" he asked. Rey turned on her own side to face him, and met his gaze directly.

"I'm not wicked."

He shrugged his shoulder. "Yet."

She shook her head at him. His dark eyes fell to her pale hand now lying between them, and he slowly moved his hand to hover over it. He did this often now. No one ever came to interrupt, as Luke had before… He let his long fingers drop to stroke down her wrist and across her palm.

She felt it all over her traitorous body.

"You're right here…so real." His eyes met hers again, and searched her "How?"

She swallowed. She knew he was trying to get her to admit to something. "I'm not. I'm far away…I'm not real."

Kylo shook his head, and his smirk returned but his eyes were pools of seriousness. "How can you not know? You are more real to me than anything else."

His words raised goose bumps on her skin. She pulled her hand from his touch.

"You're scared because you do know". He stated in his soft voice. The voice he always used in these moments.

How could they fight so hard at other times? Rey wondered.

"You know that too." Kylo read her thoughts. She hated when he did that, as much as he did when she read his. "Love and hate is a thin line, Jedi."

"Are you saying you love me or you hate me?" She asked him.

Kylo didn't answer at first. She watched as he propped himself up on one arm, and leaned closer. She tried to ignore how her lamp, turned down so dim, reflected on his bare skin. She tried to ignore what even his projection so near did to her—it was madness, really. She should flee… But instead she stayed very still, hardly breathing, and watched him lean ever closer. He was so near her, she felt his black hair flutter on her cheek when he whispered in her ear…

"Both."

And then he was gone.

/