Confessions

"The shortest distance between two people is a story." ― Patti Digh

.

..

It's cold on Ahch-To as night draws, but the fire keeps her warm. She has a blanket draped over her shoulders for added comfort; it's gaunt and thread bear, but this is better than sleeping outside again with nothing.

Sitting across from her is Kylo Ren – err, Ben Solo.

Though he isn't physically here, Rey still sees him clear as day. She cannot see his surroundings, just as he cannot see hers; she only sees him, and he only see her. He is as real to her, at this moment, as she is to him. Sometimes she looks at just the fire in front of her as the flames heat her body but other times she is looking across from where she sees and see stares at him. The flames reflect in his eyes.

Rey felt the pull towards the darkness. She felt it when she trained with Luke Skywalker, when she shut her eyes and reached out with her feelings, and she found that dark pit. She went to that dark pit. And then she fell. Deeper, and deeper, and deeper, until she was swimming in an underground cave. Then there was a mirror, or reflective glass. Confused, yet desperate for answers, Rey asked it a question; about her parents. But the mirror did not give her what she was seeking. Instead, she saw an outline of someone else she may have thought she recognized, only for it to fade away into a reflection of herself.

That was not what she had hoped.

When she sits here with Kylo, she is telling him everything. And he's listening. There are tears in her eyes when she says to him, "I've never felt so alone," because she has already told him everything else.

There is a beat, in which she hears herself take a breath, and then; "You're not alone."

Rey lifts her head, and the two force users make eye contact. She almost smiles just there but she doesn't; she is still saddened from before, but something in Kylo's tone is comforting. She tells him, "Neither are you," and she refers to the darkness he surrounds himself with; that blackness he is allowing to consume his heart, thinking he is good for nothing else.

She decides to extend a hand to him. Her fingers flex, stretching outward. Kylo is hesitant but he secretly longs for that taste of human comfort. It has been a long time. Somewhere, on the other side of the galaxy, as he sits alone in his quarters, Kylo Ren removes his glove and extends his hand towards Rey.

Rey accepts the whiskey bottle from him and takes a drink; the saccharinity is there, and the burn is the same as before, and she only coughs once this time. The liquid goes down her throat with more ease. She still wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand and her tongue laps up any drops still clinging to her lips. Rey held the bottle out in front of her once more, just now realizing there was an absence of labeling, decided to take another small sip, before passing off the bottle to Kylo.

When the darksider took up the whiskey, his helping was slightly more, and he seemed more than eager to lap up any remaining speckles on the corners of his mouth. The sweet burn was just what he needed. Rey, in the meantime, had snatched a grape from the food tray and popped it into her mouth. She handed him a slice of red apple; fruits such as apples, and even grapes, weren't a commodity on a Star Destroyer; mostly steaks, chickens, the occasional pasta, and even some wine. The Deltron spice wine was preferred, which could also be used as an ingredient for cooking; Kylo had a knack for cooking, but force help it if anyone in the First Order knew such a secret. Maybe that is why he was always so picky about what he ate; the food was either too course for his palate or underdone.

So of course, when offered the apple slice, the darksider inspected it, turning it over in his hand at least a few times, and enough for Rey to query Have you never had apples before? And for Kylo to shake his head; "Well, not that I can recall. I might have…when I was younger…but I forget the taste." He took a miniscule nibble. She sat by while he decided if he liked the taste and after a second or so, his eyes suggested the apple was agreeable to him, so he had himself a second, bigger sample.

"They didn't have apples in the First Order?"

"No. Nothing like fruits or even vegetables," he handed over the whiskey, and she took a swig, "but we had plenty of alcohol. Wines, liquors—that sort of thing. I need my drink to be smooth and flavorful."

"Somehow, this doesn't shock me."

"Hmm, and what would?" He took the whiskey back after another slice of apple. He nursed the bottle in his lap, his hand wound around the neck of it. "I'm sure you've seen copious amounts of things to shock you." She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it promptly, and left the beginnings of a smirk on Kylo's face. "Tell me one."

"Why am I even having this conversation with you?"

"Because you secretly appreciate my company— "he extended the whiskey, "—and I have this, which you seem to be liking as well." He knew she had no argument with him there, not when she grabbed for the bottle and just perhaps sipped off a little more than she had before. "So, tell me another secret. Tell me, and I might tell you one of mine. And no lying."

"Ha! I don't have any secrets."

"That's a lie."

Rey's mouth hung open, and then her lips pursed outwards; she knew Kylo had her on that one.

"I will start." Another swig of whiskey; the bottle was near empty; drat—this was going to be a long night, and he might be needing some more liquid encouragement. "I think I was four or five at time. I walked through the kitchen and saw what I thought was a glass of juice. So, I snatched it from the counter and chugged it down. Only, it wasn't juice…"

"Oh no," Rey chortled. "Well, I suppose it is my turn yes?" He nodded. Well, alright then. She took the whiskey from him. "Hmmm." She took into considering anything she might have remembered prior to be abandoned on Jakku but she was young at the time – about five, she'd guesstimate – so any recollection prior would be fuddled. But once she thought of something, she said, "I once stole an extra ration from Unkar Plutt when his back was turned."

"Who is Unkar Plutt?"

"He was, or is – I don't know what became of him, but he's probably still there – a junk boss who bought weapons, gears, and scraps of Rebel and Imperial ships that crashed during the Battle of Jakku. My par—" Rey swallowed the tears that had begun to spring to her; the former scavenger had made her peace with the notion that her parents were 'filthy junk traders' – as Kylo called them, "—my parents left me with him, probably when I was five or six, I think."

"It is a wonder you managed to survive that place at all."

"Barely. I got ill once. Uncared for, I probably would have died. I know he didn't care. Thankfully, one other scavenger did."

"Luckily for you."

"Yes." She paused, also thinking of another memory. "I escaped from him in the Millennium Falcon. He traced me to Takodana, where, well, where you found me. He physically assaulted me. I attempted to fight back…"

"Did you kill him?"

Rey blinked, "Did I…what?"

"Kill him. No one would have faulted you if you had."

"W-wha…NO! No, I didn't kill him! Not everything has to be solved by killing things, Ben."

"He would have deserved it." The next swig he took was more of a small sip. "For the record, I would have killed him."

"Oh, I know you would have."

She isn't wrong; had someone dared to lay a hand on Kylo, like they had Rey, whoever it was would have been dead on the spot.

"I hope you know that I would never raise a hand to you."

Rey nearly choked. "No," she pointed, "just paralyze me, knock me out, strap me to a chair, try to invade my mind—and what was it you said to me? I can just take what I want," her voice sounded slightly mocking him just then, "Oh, and you nearly killed one of my friends! You may never have raised a hand to me but everything you HAVE done was so much worse!" Realizing her voice was rising, and there were likely people trying to sleep, Rey exhaled sharply; seizing the bottle from Kylo, she was all too happy to finish off the whiskey. She displayed dissatisfaction. "Let's not overlook how you killed your own father!"

Kylo lost his temper just then. No, he didn't assault her. He could have. His right hand had already been made into a tight fist. But he did not strike. Instead, his fist went just past her head and he slammed his opened palm against the wall. His face, dangerously close to her own, shifted into a cavernous glare. Rey was breathing hard, almost as hard as Kylo was; his breath was blasting on her face like an acrimonious wind.

"Yeah, right…" her voice was low, scarcely above a whisper; she trembled a little, just now, though she made a cognizant effort to not show so, "never raise a hand to me? Ben, you are lying to me. I thought we agreed not to lie?"

"We did," he answered. After a beat, in which he took the pause to get his breathing back under control, Kylo recoiled his hand and sat back, "and I'm not. I have done horrible, appalling things….and I can't take them back. Not ever. Striking you is not something I will add to that list. I've never even—" He stops himself then. It has nothing to do with the fact he doesn't know what to say – oh, he does – but something in him seems nervous, dare say afraid, to reveal anything.

"Never even…" Rey began, showing her inquisitiveness in the shine of her eyes, "…what?"

"Well, you know…known a woman…"

"Known a woman?" She looked at him like she was look at something else she hadn't understood. But she thought about it, and then the look in her eyes changed as she realized. "You mean…sexually-you've never slept with anyone have you?"

"N-no."

She was surprised by this, even more so when she asks, "Well, have you ever, you know...touched yourself before?"

"Yes." He was deadpanned in his delivery. And took note how the heat was rising, slowly, in Rey's face. "What about you? That Dameron guy is... kind of nice I guess..."

Yeah, he is, and Poe might oblige is she-

Rey's mouth droops open, just ever so slightly. It was a surprise to her. Scrupulously, she undoubtedly wouldn't have supposed it had he told her any other time. She would have presumed entirely contradictory of what he told her. Not only does she realize her mouth still hangs agape, but her heart has started beating much harder than it was before, and she feels unusually warm. Her belly is aching.

The young woman, barely older than nineteen years of age, pushes Kylo away from her with such vigor that he is forced to steady himself against the cot so that he does not fall. He watches her leave, just as quickly as she had once entered.

He feels guilt. Shame. Embarrassment.