a/n: Fix it, kind of. Title comes from an aptly named Bird Box track by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross.
The abyss beckons, far below.
Palpatine is roaring, triumphant.
Ben can sense Rey for a moment before she is drowned out entirely. The vast outstretch of stars and the warring Resistance and Final Order fleet above — what little he can make of it — are engulfed in lightning.
Sheer power courses through and around him; Ben grits his teeth, clings to life with numb fingers. The jagged rock, slippery and cold, cuts into his palms. His leg, broken from the initial impact, will impede him considerably.
He reaches out desperately for Rey but cannot find her.
The lightning flickers, fades.
Hand over hand, he begins to drag himself upwards.
They're in this together, now.
Her presence surges, swells into rage, undeniable. Palpatine is laughing.
Do it!
They trap each other within a vicious, unrelenting stalemate; her saber and his lightning.
Ben feels her reach out to him, briefly, and drags himself upward in earnest. The agony in his leg heightens his resolve.
Take this pain, he ushers Rey. Use it.
She needs him as surely as he needs her; a reflection of the throne room, back to back and brimming with uneasy loyalty.
Palpatine is an awesome and unrelenting evil, but he is ancient; now he struggles to match their combined force, wanes under the added duress of his previous exertion.
There's no time to think. Hand over hand. The world is collapsing upon itself, but he is still alive, and Rey is connected to him and they brim with unlimited power for only a few seconds.
It's all they need. Ben has no other choice but to survive. The walls crumble beneath their combined will.
Ben, he hears her, triumphant and dazed over the cries of the fallen Sith and the Resistance's newfound resolve. I think...it's over.
Other voices surround her, deafening. The connection finally breaks.
She must be exhausted.
He reaches the top. Pulls himself upright, woozy from pain.
No sign of Palpatine. The very antechamber has crumbled upon itself, leaving a ringing silence.
Rey lays motionless.
Ben stumbles towards her, almost falls for his broken leg. Collapses next to her.
She's limp in his arms, glassy-eyed. A dark blotch stains her forehead.
His only friend.
She can't be dead. She's just unconscious.
She isn't breathing.
Kylo would have raged, would have torn apart the crumbling ruins in anguish, unable to accept such loss; Ben is quiet.
He places his palm flat to her belly, the same way she did for him.
He doesn't know if what he's doing will work. But he remembers how it felt; her adrenaline diffusing into warmth, rage overtaken by some strange tenderness.
The crashing waves drenching them down to the bone. The burn closing upon itself, muscle and skin regrown whole, unblemished.
The will to live bleeding out of him, into her. He is no Jedi; the energy courses into her first like lightning and he trembles, breathes until he is sure he is serene, not insistent but deliberate.
A hand reaching out in the dark.
My life for hers. I will accept it, please.
And then:
Her pulse flickers beneath his gloved fingers. Her eyes drift to him.
Rey sits up quicker than he would have imagined. She's always been fast on her feet.
She reaches up to touch his face. Her dark eyes shine with wonder.
"Ben," she murmurs. Her teeth are bright when she smiles.
Ben doesn't speak. This kind of relief can't be expressed in words.
He looks and looks upon her face because he has never been allowed to appreciate her sweetness before; they've spent so much time trying to murder each other.
She draws closer, and he follows suit. Neither of them willing to break the silence.
Rey kisses him. He wraps his arms around her, afraid to let go.
He remembers his father's hand leaving his face, the horror in his eyes. His mother, calling out to him.
He grips Rey tightly.
She pulls away to breathe, but rests against his forehead. Ben grins.
His leg doesn't hurt. Not even a little.
Her warmth permeates. He's growing colder. The world turns opaque.
But he isn't afraid.
Her eyes widen as his close and he falls back.
She scrambles over his body.
Her hands find his injured knee and without warning he's overcome by a great swell of Light, so forceful he cannot think beyond initial shock. It nearly hurts.
Then he reaches out for her. Stop. You'll exhaust yourself.
I'm not leaving you here to die, she retorts. Be quiet.
Ben grins, weary. I can share.
His hand curls over hers, still on his stomach, anchoring them, and he reciprocates. With his eyes closed it's easier to concentrate on her hands, her will pulling him back, bit by bit.
She's come so far on her own.
We did this together, Rey reminds him. She sounds uneasy.
Ben listens to the sound of her breathing and slowly, cautiously, attempts to synchronize.
She's shuddering with her will to heal him. Sweat beads her brow. He squeezes her hand.
You're hurt.
Rey scoffs. Not compared to you. Her voice is thick with emotion.
Don't be stupid. He cups her face. Rey blinks, lips parted to speak. You don't have much time.
She seems to understand.
"Can you walk?" she blurts.
Ben considers it. "I've had... worse." He stares at Rey for emphasis.
She flusters, indignant. "I didn't want to run you through with —"
"Liar." Then he smiles. "I wouldn't blame you. You had no choice." He grunts and sits up before she can ask him to elaborate. "Let's go."