An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren Characters: Rey (Star Wars), Kylo Ren, Ben Solo | Kylo Ren Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Post-TLJ Speculation, Movie: Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Reylo - Freeform, Reylo Weekly Challenge, Flash Fiction, Force Bond (Star Wars), Angst, Rey Really Needs a Hug, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, POV Rey (Star Wars) Series: Part 3 of Two Halves - Reylo Weekly Challenge Flash Fiction Summary:
A week after reuniting with Resistance, Rey is plagued by nightmares of the Supremacy and struggling to cope with her new life as a rallying point of rebellion. As she inspects her healing wounds and contemplates taking a late-night shower, the Force bond opens for the first time since she last saw Kylo Ren on Crait.
“If you hadn't attacked me—”
“If I hadn’t attacked you?” Rey cuts him off, pushing away from the sink and rounding off to his right, looking wide-eyed at him. She tries to keep her voice low, but it’s difficult in her mounting indignation. “Attacked you? I didn’t attack you!”
“Oh, no? Why else would you have tried to rip the lightsaber away?” He’s facing her off, arms stiff. His posture is all bluster, but his voice quavers. “If not betrayal?”
She would laugh, mostly out of shock, but she’s too aware of the seriousness of his accusation, and her throat constricts. Even if he is wrong, there is hurt in his eyes all over again. At least she isn’t alone in that. Rey refuses to give him any ground, and her mind races for an answer that isn’t hostile.
“I didn’t attack you,” she repeats, more calmly than the last time, but still piqued. “You think I want you dead? If that’s so, why would I have left you alive? I woke and found you unconscious. I could have ended it right there.” Her eyes fix on the scar that curves over his face and neck. She notes the way it starts as a fine line over his eyebrow, cuts deeper across his cheek, seams his jaw and throat, and though the rest is hidden from her view, she remembers the stark way it hooks over his chest as well. Ben notices the way she stares, and she doesn’t stop. She wants him to know that the intensity of her gaze is as much a reminder as her next words. “But I didn’t. Again.”
