Author's Note: This short one-shot popped into my head this morning and I just had to get it on paper. Inspired by Breaking Benjamin's "Failure." I hope you enjoy. :)

Look For the Light
By KristinaMarie

Look for the light that leads me home.
Tired of feeling lost, tired of letting go.
Tear the whole world down, tear the whole world down.
Tired of wasting breath, tired of nothing left.
Tear the whole world down, tear the whole world down.

Rey was back on Jakku and it was as if she never left. Miles beyond miles of sand stretched before her, rising into high, sweeping dunes and blowing about as if the wind were made of sand itself. It was entirely familiar, and yet, Rey couldn't place where she was. In those miles there was nothing – no camps or settlements. No scavengers and, subsequently, nothing to scavenge.

Rey had no sense of direction save for the sun. The sky was dangerously close to losing all of its light, its brilliant, clear blues melding into the deep pinks and purples of the impending night. Decidedly, she followed the sun and, when it dipped below the horizon, waited for the stars to point the way. She'd long since memorized the constellations and how they shifted throughout the year cycle. She was one of only a few who tracked the days on Jakku – most felt that there was no reason to. Not when each day was the same as the last and the future would mimic the past.

Instinctually, Rey knew that if she simply trusted her navigational skills, she would find Nima Outpost. But realistically, she wouldn't. Not now. She never did in this dream.

The dream was as it always was: endless sand against an unreachable horizon. Rey would run towards it, her legs pumping and her lithe body effortlessly flying across the sand. She put every ounce of energy into running, bracing herself against the harsh, grainy winds that seemed to have a mind of their own – pushing her back just as much as she moved forward. But the hazy skyline never got any closer. Nothing ever came into view. She simply ran until the tiredness of her dream gave way to the wakefulness of conscious reality.

But somehow, this dream was different. Rey wasn't running this time. In any other subconscious instance, she would have been, but the urgency wasn't there. It was as if something were holding her back, telling her to stay; to wait.

A roar erupted behind her. Startled, Rey bolted forward and stumbled. Eating sand, she scrambled to find her footing as the winds spiraled around her like a funnel… A ship of some sort was kicking up sand as it lifted into the air. Rey squinted through her arms, crossed in front of her in a futile attempt to protect her face. It was so close. How had she not noticed it? It was gigantic – a kind of transport ship meant to carry people and cargo. It looked familiar…

Rey gasped. She remembered it, clear as day: the ship from her first day on Jakku. The same one that left her then, was leaving her again, now. Breaking into a sprint, Rey sped after it, waving her arms and screaming for it to come back. The ship made no effort of stopping and continued to elevate, gaining speed the higher it went. As fast as she was running, her legs and chest burning, the sheer strength of the wind relentlessly pushed back. It seemed that, as much as it helped carry the ship further away, it hindered her equally so. Like she wasn't meant to catch it, and it wasn't meant to return.

Just as the ship disappeared, a tiny dot against the dying horizon, Rey jolted awake. Jakku once more a distant memory, she was safe and sound in her bunk on D'Qar's Resistance base. Sweating profusely, the thin material of her night tunic and trousers clung to her like a second skin. Her hair, freed from their usual triple loops, plastered against her forehead and cheeks. Even her pillow was drenched. Snatching it up, Rey stared at it for several long, frustrated seconds before chucking it at the floor – as if the luxury was a slight to the now fading memory that had haunted her in her sleep.

Rey wasn't blind. She knew it had been a dream… but it was a new one. Over the years she'd gotten used to the recurring ones, but a sudden nightmare she'd never seen before was unsettling. Particularly one that taunted her and hit home where her deepest insecurities were. No matter how many ambiguous assumptions Maz had lectured her with, Rey couldn't help but wonder what if. Had she returned to Jakku, would her parents have eventually found her? Was the dream trying to tell her that?

She'd come to believe that dreams often weren't simple, fleeting images; rather, they were visions to which she should give merit. Not many people understood, but the few who did, did so out of experience. Maz was the first. Then Leia and Luke. And finally, one other…

From her perch on her bunk, Rey craned her neck to peer through the always-open archway and into the common area. The base was not one of grandeur, and Rey's bunk was just one of several that shared a sitting room, latrine, and kitchen. The bunks themselves were no bigger than closets – not that Rey was complaining. Where it matched her AT-AT in space, it surpassed it in comfort. There were no windows with it being underground, so, one single light was perpetually lit from the ceiling of the commons. Dimmed nearly imperceptibly at night, it struggled to illuminate the commons, let alone her room. It was just out of sight from where Rey lay in her bed, and if she let her mind wander, she almost swore it looked like the frail light of starlit sky streaming through the fissures of the AT-AT.

Riled by her dream, there would be no more sleeping for Rey that night. Never one for watches and without a view of the outside world, she had no real way of telling how near it was to morning… but she made do another way. Kindly, the Resistance had allowed her to share a bunk with those she was closest to. Their comings-and-goings was the only clock Rey needed. Poe would be up at the crack of dawn, his military-trained obedience always present. On Jakku, it was unwise to brave the elements before sun-up for fear of exposure, so Rey rarely joined Poe in his morning rituals of kaff and breakfast. Finn was a night owl. He'd taken to midnight training where he would receive one-on-one tutelage, and on his off nights, would dutifully help the third shift crew. Rey admired him – it wasn't the most popular, nor appreciated shift. She only wished she had more time to see him between his stumbling in at daybreak, bidding an exhausted "hey" to Poe as they crossed paths, and resigning to bed for the next ten hours of daylight. Needless to say, Finn had not yet returned.

Their other bunk mate – the only one with a door to his room – Rey hardly ever saw anymore. Rey was beginning to wonder if he were ever there at all.

Retrieving the pillow she'd spiked on the floor, Rey apologetically returned it to its rightful place before heading out into the common room. As dark as it was, she'd quickly come to memorize the layout and could navigate it blind, if she had to. Leia had assured them it was a nicer selection of bunks, particularly for its equipment, and Rey was grateful if not humbled. A hexagonal shape, its center was a modest sitting area complete with holo-console. Each of the six walls had an inlet: four bunks, the latrine, and the kitchen. Through the kitchen was the door. Rey could circle the room freely with her eyes closed, and would have, had she not frozen in her tracks.

For once, the constantly closed door to Kylo Ren's bunk was open… but he wasn't inside. Instead, he was sitting just outside the door, his back against the wall and his knees drawn up. His elbows were propped on each respective knee and his face was buried in his large hands. He looked lost, and Rey couldn't help but notice how different he looked. She'd never seen him in such a state of undress: plain, black trousers that matched hers in thin quality, a tight-fitting, grey tank top that somehow made him seem even larger, and – perhaps most intriguingly of all – he was barefoot. Unconsciously, Rey wiggled her own barefoot toes in amusement. Kylo Ren was human after all.

Rey still hadn't quite gotten used to the idea of Kylo Ren – or rather, Ben Solo – walking amongst the Resistance as an ally. His presence frightened and disturbed most people; not Rey, of course, but most others. Unsurprisingly, Poe and Finn were not thrilled by the idea of Kylo bunking with them, and Kylo had been offered much finer, solitary quarters (in addition to Poe's suggestion of a cell, but that idea was quickly shot down). Thankfully, it didn't take long for Rey and Leia to convince them all otherwise. He was their best bet at defeating Snoke, and it was much smarter to keep him close than at bay.

Rey couldn't keep him at bay if she tried.

From the first time he'd entered her head, Kylo never left. He was a constant presence; dare say an influence. Rey could feel him through everything: when she was training, he was there disapproving of the methods Luke used. When she was practicing on her own, he was the source of pride that urged her on. And when she was lonely in the moments when her friends were needed elsewhere, Kylo shared in the feeling and eased it away. He felt it all, too.

Hesitantly, Rey moved to his side. When he didn't react to her nearness – or resist, to Rey's relief – she slid down along the wall to settle beside him. "Can't sleep?" she asked with a sigh. In her unease, she berated herself for posing such an obvious question.

On cue, Kylo's hands slip up and over his face, raking through his hair. Resting his forearms on his knees, he stared fixatedly on the floor and nodded.

"Neither can I," Rey said, biting her lip. "I had a –"

"Dream," Kylo interrupted, his voice deep and weary. "I know."

Rey's eyes snapped to attention, and she couldn't help but stare. She should have known. He was one of the few who understood, and the only other one who was as haunted by dreams as she was. And with their innate connection, Rey was surprised she hadn't thought if it before – how if he could be so present in her thoughts, he could probably be just as present in her dreams.

Kylo struggled beneath her stare, the tick in his jaw clenching and unclenching. "It was Jakku again, was it?"

A blush threatened Rey's cheeks as she nodded. "It was… but it was different this time. What I saw…" she stopped herself. There was no need to explain it. He'd already seen it all. It was Rey's turn to bury her face in her hands, rubbing tiredly at her eyes and hoping Kylo had not caught sight of the tears that threatened.

"There's nothing you could have done differently."

His words were so resolute, and it broke open the dam. Rey sniffed hard and ran the back of her hand across her nose. "How can you be so sure?"

Finally, Kylo looked at her. Even in the dim lighting, she could see how deep his eyes were – how much there was to see in them, and the sadness and torture they betrayed. "I know what it's like," he murmured.

Faltering under his gaze, Rey laughed a singular, incredulous laugh. "You know what it's like to be surrounded by endless miles of wasteland, sand, nothingness, and more sand?"

"I know what it's like to be lost," he corrected. "To be left behind. Forgotten." He moved as though to reach for her but wavered, clutching roughly at his wrists instead.

Rey's chest ached even more than it did in her dream. "I just… I always thought they'd come back. That someone would find me." It was all too much – the look in his eyes, the softness in his voice, and the warmth of him just inches away. Why had she come out here? Why had she sat beside him like it was the simplest of things?

Mercifully, he turned away. But curiously, Rey followed his line of sight, her eyes finding the dim ceiling light. He watched it so intently, and it all made sense to her then. Haunted by her dream, he'd left the interminable darkness of his room and, in the most literal of senses, chose to follow the light. Then, he waited for her to find it, too.

And again, he was there. Above the sadness and the loneliness, and even more strongly than his presence there beside her, Kylo was in her thoughts. You were found, Rey. Remember that.

Instantly, the ache in her chest lifted and Rey could breathe again. He was right. She'd waited her entire life for a family that would never return to her, and now, she was denying the family that was there under her nose. Through aid of the Resistance, she could have easily torn the galaxy apart in search of the parents she never knew… but that desire was suddenly, thankfully, gone. She had what she needed right there: in the confines of the Resistance base, and there, on the floor in the dark. She needed him – Kylo Ren or Ben Solo, whoever he chose to be – the unexpected light in the darkness to lead her back when she was lost.

All reluctance gone, Rey let her head drift to Kylo's shoulder. Rey relaxed when he breathed out a heavy, contented sigh and returned the favor – his cheek pressing against her hair and his warm breath tickling her forehead. Reaching up, she did what earlier, he could not, and took his large hand in her small one.

Though she hadn't thought it possible, his warmth and proximity urged sleep to come again for Rey. No sooner had she closed her eyes did Jakku rematerialize around her, as if she'd never left. The sky was still fading and the ship was high above her, speeding toward the stars like a beacon calling it away.

Yet Rey didn't run. She couldn't bring herself to. She didn't feel the same desperation as before, and she surely did not want to run futilely across Jakku. No, not anymore… not when there was something there, behind her, warm and inviting and safe. Tearing her eyes away from the ship disappearing into the night, Rey turned and faced the sun. The last legs of it were holding strong and burning bright – it was her beacon. And ahead of it, the light nearly blinding as it surrounded him, was Kylo Ren. He did not move an inch; he simply waited, just as she'd done for so many years.

Her legs moved of her own accord until there was nothing but a hair's width between them. Her hands snaked around his waist and Rey relished the feel of his arms circling her in return, pressing her close. Beaming up at him, the smile on her face was the first genuine one she'd had in any dream. "You…" she murmured, her voice cracking. "You came back. You found me."

It was a miraculous thing when he smiled back and whispered, "I said I would, sweetheart."