Allegiance | Kylo Ren

LXVI

I didn't leave the barracks for two days. I stayed on my bed, my eyes permanently red from crying. My grief kept me isolated, as eating and speaking did not seem to interest me. I wandered the room in a sickened daze, occasionally wondering if what I had seen was even real.

Was Mason alive? Was he making his way through the hospital wing right now, healing the sick and wounded? Charming the nurses with his kind smile? Scribbling notes onto that clipboard he always carried around?

Every once in a while, the notion seemed possible. But then the image of his body tied and dragged to Kylo's feet flashed through my mind, and a wave of nausea swept through me as my fears were reconfirmed.

The thought of Kylo sent ripples of anger down my spine. His betrayal hurt in every way possible. Not only had Mason been taken from me, but it was by his hand. There had seemed to be no hesitation in his movements, no sign that he had thought twice before ripping Mason's life from his body.

The look in Mason's green eyes as he was dragged away lingered in my mind. The memory of the sadness and resignation made my heart ache. He had known what was going to happen, and he had accepted it with one last glance in my direction.

The experience seemed to have broken me. I felt an unbearable weight on my body, and my mind refused to do anything but replay the horrors of that horrific day.

I had lost all sense of motivation. I lay down on my bed, tears leaking from my eyes again as I stared at the ceiling, wondering how I could have prevented this, if I could have done something different and saved Mason's life.

The other troopers regarded me warily as they passed; they whispered quietly among themselves, clearly unaware of what had happened. I wondered when it would be noticed that the hospital's best doctor was missing. It might be a while; doctors did not usually interact with troopers as commonly as Mason and I had. His absence would go unnoticed for a while, and that idea made my chest hurt.

Only Malia attempted to speak to me; she sat on the edge of my bed, her hand placed gently on my shoulder.

"What's wrong?" She murmured, her fingers tracing a faint pattern over my shoulder blade.

I met her gaze with tear-blurred vision, opening my mouth to respond but finding that my voice did not work.

She blinked in understanding, not pressing any further. "You should eat something. Or at least go outside the barracks and get some exercise."

I shook my head silently, biting my lip. She frowned, her youthful features creasing with worry.

"Calia, you need to do something. Maybe it will help to take your mind off whatever's bothering you. Why don't you go visit Mason? He always knows a way to make you happy."

A choked sob left my mouth at the sound of his name. Malia's eyes widened, flashing with alarm.

"What's the matter? Is Mason okay?" She leaned close to me.

I shook my head again, breaking eye contact as tears continued to stream down my face. She leaned back, shock clear on her face.

"I-Is he...?" She didn't seem to want to finish the question.

I nodded, burying my face in my hands. Malia's eyes brimmed with tears, and she pressed a hand to her forehead, struggling to comprehend what I had wordlessly communicated to her. After a moment, she pulled me into a tight hug, pressing her face into my shoulder. She was shaking slightly as I returned the embrace just as fiercely.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered. "I didn't know."

I don't know how long we sat like that, holding each other and absorbing each other's comfort. But when I pulled away, Malia's cheeks were stained with tears.

My throat was raw, and my eyes felt tight. I had no more tears to cry. Instead, I stared at her numbly, shuddering occasionally. She took my hand in hers and squeezed it, using the shoulder of her shirt to dry her face.

I was grateful that she didn't inquire as to the circumstances of Mason's death. I didn't know if I would be able to provide them at the moment, and I was trying desperately to forget them, to no avail.

Our silent mourning was interrupted by the door to the barracks opening. A guard walked in, his hands behind his back.

"I've been instructed to bring you to Lord Ren's quarters." His voice was crisp.

I saw Malia glance at me out of the corner of my eye. I stared at the guard for a moment before shaking my head, slowly at first but rapidly becoming feverish.

"Can this wait?" Malia asked softly, her hand on my shoulder.

The guard ignored her. "I was told you might refuse." He seemed irritated as he approached my bed, grabbing my arm and wrenching me to my feet. I let out a startled cry at the brash movement, struggling against his tight grasp.

"Stop!" Malia cried. "You're hurting her!"

The guard paid the younger trooper no mind as he yanked me towards the door. I stumbled as he pulled, struggling to maintain my balance. Malia watched helplessly as we left the barracks and made our way down the hall. The guard shoved me into the elevator. My back hit the wall sharply, and I shot him a mutinous glare. When he tried to grab my arm again, I slapped his hand away, silently daring him to try and touch me again. Luckily for him, he got the message, and instead held his arm out to allow me to exit the lift.

I walked stiffly down the familiar hallway, coming to a halt outside the door to Kylo's room. The guard knocked swiftly, then took a step back.

The door slid open. I stared at my feet, refusing to meet the gaze of the tall figure standing in front of me.

Kylo dismissed the guard, then stepped aside to let me enter. I did so wordlessly, trying to maintain my dignity as I stalked past him, knowing that whatever happened in the next few moments, it wasn't going to go even remotely well.