Ordered

Chapter 20 - In Which Ren Decides To Be Rey's Friend

(Chapter Rating: T)

He waited for her.

Prior to this moment, knowing she was too mad to return to the hovel, he'd taken the rare opportunity to rummage through the place. He checked again for anything useful. Still no lightsaber. No communication system. No blaster. The knives here couldn't cut through butter; much less buy his way back to the First Order.

He tried Skywalker's door again. Strangely enough, the room was locked, not only physically, but with some hokey Jedi trick. Ren realized immediately that everything he needed hid behind that door. But he wasn't strong enough to break Skywalker's seal. Frustrated, mentally and physically, from trying to force the material to bend, Ren needed to lie down.

Back in Rey's bed, time passed slowly staring at the old cobwebbed ceiling. The evening sunset faded to dusk to darkness once more. He waited. The stars would be out now. The ocean she loved would reflect the planet's solitary moon rising high in the sky.

Soon worry flickered over him. He felt for her presence. The Force told him Rey remained safe but severely conflicted. He played with the idea of reaching out to her through the Force, apologizing for his directness, and asking her to come back. But doubt gnawed at him. His sincerity always made things worse. He knew she needed time and space. There was little to do but keep waiting.

The house was quiet. The world outside grew still. Although, on previous days, he had craved time alone, this depressed him. The only other person on the entire world of Ahch-To and she balked at his closeness. Maybe he was being too bold. He considered all the tactics. Being straightforward didn't work. Nor did being spiteful. Tenderness sent her packing. As well as, honesty.

Feeling disgusted, Ren rolled to his side. He was turning into his father, begging for a moment of his mother's precious attention. The revelation made him sick. He had promised himself their marriage would be different. They would be close and adoring, like Anakin and Padme.

"Grandfather," he whispered. But somehow, now, it didn't feel right. There wasn't any power to the word like there'd been before. It was an empty, meaningless croak in dark with no darkness returned. Still, he asked, "What can I do?"

But he knew the answer. It was in the back of his mind. He had read and heard the legends. Everyone knew the stories. His grandparents, Anakin and Padme, had known each other for years. Before they were lovers, they were the dearest of friends.

Ren sighed, his breath hot against the pillow. He knew they had to start over. Square one. The almighty reset button. It was impossible to wipe a human's mind the way one could wipe a droid's. And yet, he would have to mimic that process.

He'd have to show Rey more than she'd first known about him, compassion for compassion's sake. First, to get to where he wanted to be, he would have to be, and the word twisted in his side like one of the dull kitchen knives, her friend.

Again, he felt ill. Kylo Ren, didn't have friends. He didn't have patience for pleasantries. But he, apparently, would have to be more patient with her. Reset as just her trustworthy friend.

He would have to show her more of the side he'd suppressed. Ben Solo. The simple fool, her creator's humble nephew. Perhaps he could stomach it for a short time, for her.

Course, that meant he would have to pretend their world-shattering wedding night had never happened. That was a crime in and of itself. For a moment, he considered it impossible. How could he suppress his feelings? In front of her, he'd have more success running on the beach and trying to hold back the tide.

Which, admittedly, with the Force, he could do for a short time. For her.

Therefore, once again, he came to the conclusion that it was the one thing he hadn't tried. He knew he couldn't leave without her. Deep down, she wanted him. She said she needed him. She was afraid of her own desire. He could lift the fear once they formed the amity of friendly attachment.

Decided, he planned to take a gentle step back. He would gain her trust, her friendship. Then he would offer his hand to her, expecting nothing in return. He would have patience, until she had enough faith to place her hand in his, of her own free will. When Skywalker returned with a working ship, they would leave together.

When the front door slammed he felt relieved she'd returned at last. Her footsteps moved across the common's area to the bedroom door. He rolled over and closed his eyes, faking sleep, listening, as she faintly cracked the door.

The light from the hall poured in, but he pretended not to be disturbed by it. She stepped lightly, but he could feel her move. Soon she was across the room, above her pallet of homemade quilts and pillows on the floor. She had slept there for weeks, watching and waiting on him. Slaving throughout the night when the fever ebbed and flowed over his body.

Now she was causing a stir. He heard as each pillow and blanket was lifted into her arms. Just as quietly, she dragged it to the door. Realizing what was happening, he couldn't let her go through with it.

"I'll take the floor, if you like," he offered. It wasn't fair. He'd stolen her bed with his injuries.

"No, go back to sleep," her voice was tense. No mood for arguing.

"Tomorrow then," he added. She didn't answer back and instead gently closed the door behind her.

He clenched his fists in the darkness. His wife had moved out of the bedroom. This was not a good sign. Tomorrow, he promised himself, the reset button.