faderift | In this cold reality I made [closed]

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In this cold reality I made [closed]

WHO: Kylo Ren and Rey
WHAT: Talking about this mission
WHEN: After he gets back from his mission
WHERE: Their home
NOTES: Talk of murder, oppressed elves, and more murder

The trip back was mostly uneventful with Kylo being his usual silent dark figure with little to say to his companions. Caedus was at his side, as always, trotting along at his heels as he made his way home. He didn't know whether Rey would be there, or if he would want her to be there. It was one thing to give a mission report and keep what happened to himself outside of those who needed to know. Keeping things to himself wasn't exactly an option when you shared your inner most thoughts with someone in a connection you can't break. He expects she felt glimpses of what he's done, the carnage that was still hanging around him like a dark shadow as he waved a hand over the gates to disable her traps.

Caedus seemed to pick up on his master's grim mood, his tail not wagging and mouth not hanging open as it usually did. He had killed refugees alongside Kylo, but a beast did not contemplate actions in the way their master might. Yet Kylo refused to feel guilt. He had done what he was bid, regardless of the emotions tied to it. He had made sure the bodies were burned, at the very least. In the end they had become just ash and dust.

Opening the front entrance, Caedus enters first. Kylo shuts the door behind him, still silent as a ghost. He said nothing, not calling out for Rey as he pulled his gloves off his hands and pocketed them. He knew Rey was in the house somewhere. He could feel her, as familiar a presence in the Force as anything.

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She holds her breath as his hand rises, but exhales shakily when he doesn't touch her, both relieved and disappointed. Letting Padawan walk ahead of her she steps past him into the hall, not looking at him because if she does she doesn't know if she can leave.

His thoughts echo in her head, the self loathing and dissonance rising up where it had so long been held back. She holds in a sob at his words, risking a glance at him.

"You can. You are. I wouldn't love you if you weren't. But you can't keep swinging back and forth."

"I've done it my whole life. I've struggled with this my entire life before I met you." He'd struggled against it for so long, until Luke had tried to kill him. He couldn't erase what he'd done in the aftermath, when he had come to accept his destiny, and he couldn't erase what he'd done now.

Part of him still reasoned that this was a war, that he was in the right and she was leaving him for nothing. The idea of letting her go frightened him. He didn't want to be cut off again. The idea that he wouldn't even be able to feel their bond within the Force terrified him.

He's distracted for a moment by Caedus, finally following them out of the bedroom to whine and pace between the two of them. He eventually settled with pressing himself against Kylo's legs. He wasn't going to leave with her.

"You didn't tell me where you're going." He whispers, knowing it would probably be to Obi-wan's large house or perhaps she'd hide away in her office. She had places she could go, unlike him. He's been here for months and still had no place, unlike her. It made him feel envious when it had once made him proud.

She needs him to come to his conclusions on his own, for better or worse. This isn't a fight she can fight for him, though she wants to.

Padawan doesn't look exactly pleased about this situation either and stays close to Rey, letting out a soft whine of her own to join Caedus's. Rey is glad that he's staying with Ben, maybe he'll help him.

"I'll be with Obi-Wan. Just for a few days." She knows it might take longer than that, but she's trying to be hopeful. She hadn't packed up everything she owned.

He nods, trying his best to keep his eyes to his feet. This was hard enough as it is. He didn't want to watch her walk down the stairs or out the door. He doesn't want to get his hopes up when she explains that she'll only be gone a few days.

"Right. I'll be here." He can't help but wince at how lame that sounds. Of course he would be here. This was his home. It felt emptier already. He nods again, biting his lip. It was better to just get it over with, he decides.

That he won't look at her, that he's given up so quickly, breaks her heart a little more. She hates that she's the one who has made him look like this, scared and abandoned, feels sick that the reason he's hurting is wholly because of her.

Though she also wouldn't be leaving if she didn't believe this would help. She exhales, her eyes falling to the floor as she turns away from him again.

"Right." She doesn't know what else to say, so she walks away.

He looks up as she reaches the stairs. He hates himself for looking up. He hates himself for a lot of reasons right now. He could hardly blame her for coming to this. It hurt, of course, but he couldn't feel anything but self loathing. He could feel that small bit of hope in her, that he might somehow be different after this.

"Please." He finds himself begging again, this time giving in to the urge to touch her before she can move on to the front entrance. He steps over Caedus with one large boot and moves into her space. Neither of them wanted this. He finally understands a little better the look his mother had given him on the Raddus. There were certain things you couldn't bear to lose.

"Please. I don't- I can't fix this. How can I fix this?" He whispers, on the verge of tears again as he tries to lean into her, to crowd her against the wall. He didn't want to keep her here if she didn't want to be but he couldn't watch her walk out the door either.

Edited 2018-10-19 02:50 (UTC)

She lets him crowd her, pressing her back against the wall, but she turns her head to the side, not looking at him. The desperation makes her heart ache, and she shakes her head again.

"That isn't something I can tell you. Bad things happen, but how we react to them..." She needs to go away, not just for him, but for herself too. She knows there's that darkness in him, but she had gotten used to it being so quiet that she forgot about it, sitting comfortably in the gray. "That you felt nothing, when you killed those people, that worries me."

"It's just- that's how I've always known to fight." Maybe not always. Luke hadn't taught him that. Snoke did. Snuff out your weaknesses, bury them in the dark where they belonged. Only let your anger and strength show. Those were things Snoke had taught him. "If I let myself feel anything for them then I can't focus on what needs to be done. If I let myself stop -"

He sighs, not wanting to explain himself anymore. He would try to kiss her, to keep her from leaving where he knew she wanted to be, but her turned head was like a rejection. He wraps his arms around her instead, pulling her into him. Anything to keep her here.

"I can't just forget the things he taught me. I can't forget how he shaped me. It's part of who I am. I thought you understood that." And he knows it started early. Snoke had been his shadow for so long that losing the feeling of him lurking in his head was still taking time. He had gotten better about it, been able to finally sleep deeply whenever she was next to him, but it didn't erase all the years he'd spent with Snoke's claws sunken into him.

She closes her eyes as he wraps his arms around her, but she doesn't return the embrace, her hands stiff at her sides, one wrapped around her staff. Tears burn her eyes as he speaks, and she nods her head.

"I do understand that. But you let yourself be used to commit something terrible again. Why don't you see that? You should feel guilty because this never should have happened."

He loosens his hold on her, hands sliding up and down her back in an attempt to soothe. They were both still crying, but he wasn't going to ignore her tears. Even if their tears were for each other.

"Maybe so, but avoiding it wasn't the choice I made. The Inquisition benefits from having Orlais on their side. If I have to get my hands dirty just so they'll stop looking down on us, then so be it." He didn't want to understand anything about it beyond that, probably to her frustration. Even at the cost of other lives. He was willing to make sure they were kept alive first. It was the Throne Room all over again.

"I'm sorry you're upset. I am." He sighs, feeling weary as he presses his lips to her temple. He didn't want to fight. He didn't want her to leave. He just wanted them to stay together, no matter what it took.

Somehow his holding her, trying to soothe her, just makes the whole situation worse. When he apologizes that she's upset that's all that she can tolerate from him and her arms come up, pushing him away.

"That's not what you should be sorry for!" She starts for the stairs again, wiping her free hand across her eyes in frustration. "The Inquisition has Orlais's support, one group of spared elves wouldn't have shifted their allegiances and you know that. You're just making excuses. Just like you did when you killed your father." She knows it's a low blow, regrets saying it almost as soon as she does, but that doesn't make it untrue.

"Alliances can shift. Those elves were taking supplies from travelers. They shouldn't have been on the road-" He was trying to argue with her now, in earnest, as she made her get away down the stairs. The mention of his father stops him short. "You wouldn't know the first thing about the kind of parent he was. Or her. You have no parents. You've never known what it's like from the start."

He was quickly moving on from heartbroken to angry. She had no idea how much it had cost him to kill his father, how much Snoke still tormented him right until the end. Nothing he'd done was ever good enough. Not for Snoke, his parents, or Luke. She would never be able to understand that.

"You would rather run away to Obi-Wan than try to understand. You'd rather push me out, just like them, because you're afraid of me. You thought you could just push out the darkness and save me, didn't you? That's not how it works because it's a part of you too. The difference is I'm not afraid of what I am, when I have to do things that I might not like." He was seething, metaphorical hackles raised. She'd hit a sore spot, so he was hitting her sore spots right back.

She whirls around to glare at him, nostrils flared as she gears up to yell at him through her tears.

"I'm not afraid of the darkness, I'm not like Luke or your parents. I love you because of everything that makes you up, but I'm not going to sit here and watch you let yourself be like Snoke." She lets out a sob, unable to hold it back, nearly shaking from the effort of keeping more at bay. She wasn't going to turn into more of a mess in front of him.

"When you figure that out, you know where I'll be."

"I'm not like him. You're wrong." He was his own person. That almost seemed to make it worse, in a few ways. Yet it couldn't be denied his worldview was shaped by the Darkside user. He felt like his insides were being ripped out, when she lets out a sob. He genuinely wanted to stop those sounds coming from her, to make her hurt less.

"You're the one who's leaving. You're leaving me, just like them." He would be here, of course, but he couldn't deny that this hurt. He'd never felt more alone, than watching her on the verge of walking out. His anger softens and he retreats back into himself again, bowing his head to avoid having to watch it happen. It was as bad as watching his father leave without him, over and over again. He always came back, of course, but each time felt as lonely as the last. This felt a thousand times worse.

Edited (wtf autocorrect) 2018-10-19 15:12 (UTC)

That pulls her up short for a second and she just stares at him. She knows that he's not completely wrong. His parents had sent him to Luke to try and do what was best for him, what they'd thought was best for him. She's leaving now, because she hopes it's what's best for him.

"You told me to let the past die, once. Take your own advice, Ben," she replies, before turning towards the door again.

This time he watches her leave. He was railing against everything they had said to one another, trying to pick it apart and build himself up with it. She was wrong. He had done what was necessary, just as he'd been willing to sacrifice the Resistance and watch it all burn. They would have been the ones to rebuild it. They should be together in this. Why couldn't she just understand that he'd done what he thought was necessary? It didn't matter if they had been elves or humans, refugees or nobles. He would have killed them anyway. He didn't care about the distinctions.

His eyes bore into the back of her head as each step brings her closer to the door. He was a maelstrom of anger and loneliness and already he was trying to paint her as his enemy too. It was how he kept himself from being hurt. He wasn't the one who was wrong. They were. Luke, his parents, and now Rey. They couldn't do what needed to be done. They couldn't see it the way he did.

When she does eventually leave, he lets out an angry yell and slams his fist against the nearest wall, leaving cracks in the surface but not quite breaking through. She might even be able to hear some of his raging as he stomps away back up the stairs and through the house. He was a black whirlpool of it. For so long he'd pushed it to the edges but now it was all he wanted to be. That anger cocooned him, kept him safe from ever being hurt again.

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In this cold reality I made [closed]

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