Hux cannot see Rey stand on the plateau above him, but he hears her shout: "I have you! You can start climbing now!"
Inch by inch, Hux makes his way back up the steep wall. Rey isn't levitating him. He wouldn't have wanted her to anyway.
Steadied by the Jedi trainee, the man takes his time checking the rock for the best spot to grab, pull and push. The pain from having slammed against the wall is still hindering, but Rey accounts for that, every couple of breaths rendering a little more aid than just providing the Force version of a safety rope.
Knowing that he cannot fail enables Hux to map out his movements better, not sloppier, as one raised in the First Order would have expected. A vision coupled with fear of the consequences of failure are what inspires excellence, Hux was taught, both in word and example. But here in this moment there is only calm determination, a never before experienced clarity of heart and mind.
Gasping, Hux pulls himself over the ledge, but he doesn't allow himself longer than a few breaths before he utters:
"Why....'d ... they... never... told me..."
Weak as the words may come out, there is enough accusation in them to melt another star system, the only reaction to grievance and any kind of deficiancy that he has learned.
Perplexed, Rey replies with a single: "Who?"
"Nevermind", Hux wheezes. "Just post near-death stuff the brain is doing. We can safely skip the glad to be alive sex, I take it? Thanks."
And then he collapses.