As if on request, the image of his friends and their cries synchronise. Finn clutches at Rey's right arm; his face is twisted with horror. Poe doesn't know Rey that well yet, but he associates a feeling of power with her. She doesn't look all that powerful now. The two appear to be fighting against some sort of invisible barrier and the debris littering the bridge builds in front of their feet, mutating into an obstacle course that cannot be navigated.
"Poe," Rey pleads with him, "Poe, you need to come back. We need you here."
Poe doesn't understand why she can't just use the Force – he needs rescuing, so that's legitimate, right?
It's Finn speaking now, "Poe – you gotta- just come back across the bridge. Please. I can’t get to you this time."
Their begging only elicits confusion. What are they so afraid of? What's stopping them just walking out to meet up with him? The immediacy of the raging storm recedes a little as he contemplates how stupid this situation is.
"They are calling because they seek to protect you. From me."
Tension grips Poe's shoulders. He knows he will need to turn around, but for the moment he focuses on the unpleasant sensation of heavy raindrops trickling under the collar of his jacket. His clothes are soaked, chaffing unpleasantly against his skin. A command echoes through his mind, ordering him to face the new speaker. Reluctantly Poe obeys.
He stares up at the tall, looming figure. Lightning streaks across the sky, momentarily illuminating pale skin. Poe hasn't seen Ben Solo in a long time.
There is no time to analyse how he's so sure it’s him, how he's so sure Ben was the one to torture him in person so many months ago. Poe is surprised he didn't realise then, but everything's so easy to see with the benefit of hindsight.
"Don't you think it's ridiculous they believe you need protecting? They fear I'm going to hurt you. But you know that's not right, don't you, Poe?"
Ben's gotten really tall. He literally dwarfs Poe now and that's even standing a few metres away, close to the edge of the bridge that is still stable. Emotions war across Poe's mind. The presence of his tormentor terrifies him. Honestly, Poe does not want to go through the pain of having his thoughts invaded again. He hates the memories of helplessness, of failure Ben brings back.
But on the other hand, Ben's words make a lot of sense. He feels very familiar. Plus, he's General Organa's and Han Solo's son, right? Somewhere there must be good in him. Perhaps he really will help.
"That's right, Poe. Just come to me. Take my hand and I'll make all that hurt, all your pain disappear." Ben's voice is so soft and familiar. He's barely whispering, but Poe can hear every syllable crystal clear. With his back turned to them, Finn and Rey's desperate faces become a distant memory. A hand gloved in black leather stretches out towards Poe. It's only a few steps – much easier to go to Ben than risk heading back to the bit of the bridge that's broken.
He takes an unsteady step forward, his dark boots slipping on the surface slick with rain.
"Poe! No!" Rey's voice is a hoarse scream of frustration. The desperation of it takes Poe by surprise. He hesitates, half turning back.
Behind him, the shade that both is and is not Ben Solo growls, "You will come to me."
It's a powerful command fuelled by a dark anger; Poe's body starts to obey before his mind truly catches up. In another life, Poe thinks he might have had the strength to resist. On this bridge, in this moment, Poe can't stop himself from taking another pace and another.
The bridge wobbles violently, but the pilot hardly heeds it. He is staring in silent wonder at Ben's face, grateful that it is freed from that horrible mask. With each step closer, the other man sends a wave of encouragement his way. Poe knows he is basking in this comfort, that it seems to blanket him in warmth even as everything else in this narrow scene faces destruction.
One more step and he is close enough to take the offered hand. Poe's rich brown eyes drift upwards to gaze into Ben's face. The expression he encounters is carefully neutral. There is no recognition, little sign of the promised compassion. "Take my hand, Poe," Ben instructs, his tone chiding. Poe fixes him with another long, weary glance before raising his own arm up.
The moment their fingers entwine Ben takes the chance to jerk the smaller man close. He slips his other arm around Poe's waist and it is the momentary intimacy of predator and prey, before the jaws snap shut, the fangs extend, the muscles contract. He draws him so that he is pressed against the strong form of his torturer. Over his shoulder, Poe catches a hint of the smirk thrown at Rey and Finn. Ben is mocking them.
He's made the wrong choice.
It's too late, but Poe tries to stumble back anyway. He presses his free hand against Ben's chest, but the man is immovable. The arm around him tightens, squeezing at the bottom of his ribs. Air escapes his lungs and Poe knows he's having trouble drawing in an adequate replacement supply.
"Look at me." Whether the command is in his head or spoken aloud, Poe isn't sure. All he knows is that he wants desperately to refuse. Instead his chin jerks upwards and he stares into the blackness of Ben’s pupils. They shine with a strange obsidian quality. He gazes into them and the strangest sensation blossoms, as though he has tipped head first over the side of this ridiculous bridge, as though he is falling and there is nothing to break his fall.
"It is most accommodating of you to embrace your own destruction so willingly." The words don't make sense for a second, then Ben starts to show Poe the fate planned from him.
Fear unlike anything he's ever known grips his soul. Poe struggles properly now, fighting against the metres of black cloth that make up Ben's- No. This isn't Ben. This isn't the gangly, awkward teenager Poe dimly remembers ambling after his parents at ceremonial events. This isn't the boy everybody spoke of with such pride and high hopes as he commenced his training with his uncle. This is a twisted perversion of that man. A strange composition of anger and bitterness and hate. He is monstrous. The title Kylo Ren is apt enough now.
So Poe tries to wrench himself from Ren's grasp, but he finds his chin roughly turned again and he meets those jet black eyes for a second time.
What he sees there causes a scream to tumble from his lips.
---
In the seemingly endless corridors of the base, Rey feels like she is lost in a labyrinth. She is sure she's close to the epicentre of the disturbance now. The unease prickles across her skin like goose bumps. The trainee Jedi prepares to focus her mind, to push away the fear that prevents her from seeing clearly.
However, at that moment, a piercing wail ricochets across the walls.
The sound would have led her where she needed, but Rey no longer requires direction. She recognises that voice – hoarse as it is. She knows exactly who lies at the centre of this storm.
---
And once the scream starts, Poe cannot stop.
He screams to release the terror gripping his heart. He screams and screams and-
---
"Poe!" Rey literally throws herself through the man's door, unwilling to even waste the seconds needed for it to open fully. Her feet are in a tangle beneath her, but nothing matters apart from saving her friend from whatever is hunting him, hurting him.
He is writhing on the bed, limbs twisting unnaturally and his face contorted with pain.
Another cry escapes from his throat. Rey can hear his heart beating frantically in her ears and she suddenly fears his body will not cope with the pressure of trying to fight off this onslaught.
Because there's no doubt Poe's fighting.
Without warning, he bolts upright. Rey is dimly aware of another body behind her, senses the warm, reassuring presence of Finn. Reaching back, she awkwardly pats his wrist to acknowledge his arrival. Poe's eyes are open; he is looking straight at them, but Rey know he's not really seeing they're there.
Poe, trembling with exertion, moves his head minutely side to side. Then he stares straight ahead, a haunting expression of fear passing across his tanned features. Gaze fixed on a point somewhere above their heads, Poe begs in a quiet, desperate voice, "Help me. Please."
Then his eyes roll backwards and he collapses onto the sweat-stained covers.
Re: FILL: When You Break (Part 8b)
"Poe," Rey pleads with him, "Poe, you need to come back. We need you here."
Poe doesn't understand why she can't just use the Force – he needs rescuing, so that's legitimate, right?
It's Finn speaking now, "Poe – you gotta- just come back across the bridge. Please. I can’t get to you this time."
Their begging only elicits confusion. What are they so afraid of? What's stopping them just walking out to meet up with him? The immediacy of the raging storm recedes a little as he contemplates how stupid this situation is.
"They are calling because they seek to protect you. From me."
Tension grips Poe's shoulders. He knows he will need to turn around, but for the moment he focuses on the unpleasant sensation of heavy raindrops trickling under the collar of his jacket. His clothes are soaked, chaffing unpleasantly against his skin. A command echoes through his mind, ordering him to face the new speaker. Reluctantly Poe obeys.
He stares up at the tall, looming figure. Lightning streaks across the sky, momentarily illuminating pale skin. Poe hasn't seen Ben Solo in a long time.
There is no time to analyse how he's so sure it’s him, how he's so sure Ben was the one to torture him in person so many months ago. Poe is surprised he didn't realise then, but everything's so easy to see with the benefit of hindsight.
"Don't you think it's ridiculous they believe you need protecting? They fear I'm going to hurt you. But you know that's not right, don't you, Poe?"
Ben's gotten really tall. He literally dwarfs Poe now and that's even standing a few metres away, close to the edge of the bridge that is still stable. Emotions war across Poe's mind. The presence of his tormentor terrifies him. Honestly, Poe does not want to go through the pain of having his thoughts invaded again. He hates the memories of helplessness, of failure Ben brings back.
But on the other hand, Ben's words make a lot of sense. He feels very familiar. Plus, he's General Organa's and Han Solo's son, right? Somewhere there must be good in him. Perhaps he really will help.
"That's right, Poe. Just come to me. Take my hand and I'll make all that hurt, all your pain disappear." Ben's voice is so soft and familiar. He's barely whispering, but Poe can hear every syllable crystal clear. With his back turned to them, Finn and Rey's desperate faces become a distant memory. A hand gloved in black leather stretches out towards Poe. It's only a few steps – much easier to go to Ben than risk heading back to the bit of the bridge that's broken.
He takes an unsteady step forward, his dark boots slipping on the surface slick with rain.
"Poe! No!" Rey's voice is a hoarse scream of frustration. The desperation of it takes Poe by surprise. He hesitates, half turning back.
Behind him, the shade that both is and is not Ben Solo growls, "You will come to me."
It's a powerful command fuelled by a dark anger; Poe's body starts to obey before his mind truly catches up. In another life, Poe thinks he might have had the strength to resist. On this bridge, in this moment, Poe can't stop himself from taking another pace and another.
The bridge wobbles violently, but the pilot hardly heeds it. He is staring in silent wonder at Ben's face, grateful that it is freed from that horrible mask. With each step closer, the other man sends a wave of encouragement his way. Poe knows he is basking in this comfort, that it seems to blanket him in warmth even as everything else in this narrow scene faces destruction.
One more step and he is close enough to take the offered hand. Poe's rich brown eyes drift upwards to gaze into Ben's face. The expression he encounters is carefully neutral. There is no recognition, little sign of the promised compassion. "Take my hand, Poe," Ben instructs, his tone chiding. Poe fixes him with another long, weary glance before raising his own arm up.
The moment their fingers entwine Ben takes the chance to jerk the smaller man close. He slips his other arm around Poe's waist and it is the momentary intimacy of predator and prey, before the jaws snap shut, the fangs extend, the muscles contract. He draws him so that he is pressed against the strong form of his torturer. Over his shoulder, Poe catches a hint of the smirk thrown at Rey and Finn. Ben is mocking them.
He's made the wrong choice.
It's too late, but Poe tries to stumble back anyway. He presses his free hand against Ben's chest, but the man is immovable. The arm around him tightens, squeezing at the bottom of his ribs. Air escapes his lungs and Poe knows he's having trouble drawing in an adequate replacement supply.
"Look at me." Whether the command is in his head or spoken aloud, Poe isn't sure. All he knows is that he wants desperately to refuse. Instead his chin jerks upwards and he stares into the blackness of Ben’s pupils. They shine with a strange obsidian quality. He gazes into them and the strangest sensation blossoms, as though he has tipped head first over the side of this ridiculous bridge, as though he is falling and there is nothing to break his fall.
"It is most accommodating of you to embrace your own destruction so willingly." The words don't make sense for a second, then Ben starts to show Poe the fate planned from him.
Fear unlike anything he's ever known grips his soul. Poe struggles properly now, fighting against the metres of black cloth that make up Ben's- No. This isn't Ben. This isn't the gangly, awkward teenager Poe dimly remembers ambling after his parents at ceremonial events. This isn't the boy everybody spoke of with such pride and high hopes as he commenced his training with his uncle. This is a twisted perversion of that man. A strange composition of anger and bitterness and hate. He is monstrous. The title Kylo Ren is apt enough now.
So Poe tries to wrench himself from Ren's grasp, but he finds his chin roughly turned again and he meets those jet black eyes for a second time.
What he sees there causes a scream to tumble from his lips.
In the seemingly endless corridors of the base, Rey feels like she is lost in a labyrinth. She is sure she's close to the epicentre of the disturbance now. The unease prickles across her skin like goose bumps. The trainee Jedi prepares to focus her mind, to push away the fear that prevents her from seeing clearly.
However, at that moment, a piercing wail ricochets across the walls.
The sound would have led her where she needed, but Rey no longer requires direction. She recognises that voice – hoarse as it is. She knows exactly who lies at the centre of this storm.
And once the scream starts, Poe cannot stop.
He screams to release the terror gripping his heart. He screams and screams and-
"Poe!" Rey literally throws herself through the man's door, unwilling to even waste the seconds needed for it to open fully. Her feet are in a tangle beneath her, but nothing matters apart from saving her friend from whatever is hunting him, hurting him.
He is writhing on the bed, limbs twisting unnaturally and his face contorted with pain.
Another cry escapes from his throat. Rey can hear his heart beating frantically in her ears and she suddenly fears his body will not cope with the pressure of trying to fight off this onslaught.
Because there's no doubt Poe's fighting.
Without warning, he bolts upright. Rey is dimly aware of another body behind her, senses the warm, reassuring presence of Finn. Reaching back, she awkwardly pats his wrist to acknowledge his arrival. Poe's eyes are open; he is looking straight at them, but Rey know he's not really seeing they're there.
Poe, trembling with exertion, moves his head minutely side to side. Then he stares straight ahead, a haunting expression of fear passing across his tanned features. Gaze fixed on a point somewhere above their heads, Poe begs in a quiet, desperate voice, "Help me. Please."
Then his eyes roll backwards and he collapses onto the sweat-stained covers.