Presented from the PoV of an unreliable narrator undergoing some subliminal suggestion. Pretty tame and unfortunately not that meaty, but here goes:
Ren dreams of a starless vacuum with not a trace of light to be seen, the inky blackness punctuated by the rhythmic hum of machinery that's followed him for all of his life. The ambience, the nothingness, and the lack of footing all fill him with the sensation of being afloat. If not for the voice that emerges from nowhere, he'd have even thought that he was formless—but the scowl that crosses his features brings him to the physical awareness of his own face.
"Ben."
His lips feel heavy, and his voice is loud but muffled to his ears when he replies, "Rey."
"How are you feeling?"
"Nothing," he says, tentatively. It's strange but appropriate how monotonous he sounds, when the last thing he remembers is her violent rejection of his offer. Then he adds: "Confusion; you'd rejected my offer, yet here you are, pursuing me in my dream. And adrift, because I can't see anything. There's only nothingness: So I feel nothing."
"I know this must be difficult for you, but you must listen to me." Her voice echoes in his mind, booming in spite of her intangible presence.
"I'm listening. All I can do is listen." He hears a soft rush of breath—a content sigh?
"Ben. The darkness you see—you mustn't be tempted. You cannot go back there."
"I already am."
"No. Where you are now, it's oblivion. You're here, because after all that we'd done to put you within arm's reach, I couldn't let you go."
"You're just a dream. You're not real. You can't do anything."
"No. No, you're wrong. I swear," she pauses, a rather odd habit for a voice in a dream, and Ren begins to feel an uneasy sensation creeping inside his chest, "I swore that I'd keep you from going dark, even if it means holding the light at bay, too. Snoke is dead, and the First Order is behind us." Ren's blood runs cold, his calm apprehension toward the puzzling but grounding voice of Rey fading rapidly. "Even Leia won't be able to track our location."
He jerks, suddenly aware that he'd been in touch with his body the entire time. He turns his head in every direction, willing his eyes to open, but they remain firmly shut. All he sees is oblivion.
"Ben," Rey starts from somewhere beside him, her voice bereft of its ethereal quality, and she waits for his breathing to even out before she continues, "there was an accident when we fought for the lightsaber on the Supremacy. You were hurt. There wasn't much that I could do."
"What?" says Ren, breathless.
"I'm sorry."
"What happened?"
"I did what I could."
"No—" Ren swings his head in the direction of Rey's voice, his mind boiling over with frustration "—tell me. What injury are you talking about?"
Rey is silent. Just as Ren is about to raise his voice in the same manner that he had on the Supremacy, she finds hers. He stops breathing when she says, "Your eyes. I wasn't sure at first, but I see it as clear as the stars now. You've lost your sight."
"No."
His heart skips a beat, and as it does Ren reaches for the floor, to see with the Force what he cannot with his eyes. He realizes that he must be on a bed when his hand dips down to what he gauges to be his waist level and touches the air. Before he can throw himself off, something—Rey—grabs his hand. The touch is almost assuring, just like her voice had been, but she refuses to relinquish it when he pulls.
"I'll protect you," says Rey. "I'll keep you here, away from the reaches of the First Order and the Resistance. You don't need to worry—not anymore."
"I," Ren blindly pushes forward, trying to push her away. In his addled state, the Force slips out of his grasp, and he just manages to force her back a step by the shoulder. "I don't need protection. Don't touch me!"
"Stop fighting. Ben, stop fighting!" The grip on his hand tightens, as futile as it would be when she can't hope to overpower him in brute strength. He nevertheless abandons it to touch his face with his other hand, to assess for physical proof of the damage to his eyes, but she grabs that one, too. "Whether you like it or not, I'm here; and you're injured. You need guidance—guidance that Snoke couldn't give you. Let me be the one to help you. You can stop fighting and rest. You just need to let me guide you."
When he continues to squirm with a feral shout, Rey releases her hold. The uneven distribution sends Ren toppling onto the floor, where he pushes himself up with his hands flat on the floor. Then Rey is there again in a flash, her hands wrapping around his wrists, an unrelenting presence who won't allow him a single moment.
"Listen to me, Ben," she says with a tone of finality, so powerful and confident that Ren has no choice but to obey. Against the harsh nothingness of his dead eyes, her every word sounds commanding. "It's just us now, and that means only I can guide you. You will listen."
mini-fill: only you can guide me now
Ren dreams of a starless vacuum with not a trace of light to be seen, the inky blackness punctuated by the rhythmic hum of machinery that's followed him for all of his life. The ambience, the nothingness, and the lack of footing all fill him with the sensation of being afloat. If not for the voice that emerges from nowhere, he'd have even thought that he was formless—but the scowl that crosses his features brings him to the physical awareness of his own face.
"Ben."
His lips feel heavy, and his voice is loud but muffled to his ears when he replies, "Rey."
"How are you feeling?"
"Nothing," he says, tentatively. It's strange but appropriate how monotonous he sounds, when the last thing he remembers is her violent rejection of his offer. Then he adds: "Confusion; you'd rejected my offer, yet here you are, pursuing me in my dream. And adrift, because I can't see anything. There's only nothingness: So I feel nothing."
"I know this must be difficult for you, but you must listen to me." Her voice echoes in his mind, booming in spite of her intangible presence.
"I'm listening. All I can do is listen." He hears a soft rush of breath—a content sigh?
"Ben. The darkness you see—you mustn't be tempted. You cannot go back there."
"I already am."
"No. Where you are now, it's oblivion. You're here, because after all that we'd done to put you within arm's reach, I couldn't let you go."
"You're just a dream. You're not real. You can't do anything."
"No. No, you're wrong. I swear," she pauses, a rather odd habit for a voice in a dream, and Ren begins to feel an uneasy sensation creeping inside his chest, "I swore that I'd keep you from going dark, even if it means holding the light at bay, too. Snoke is dead, and the First Order is behind us." Ren's blood runs cold, his calm apprehension toward the puzzling but grounding voice of Rey fading rapidly. "Even Leia won't be able to track our location."
He jerks, suddenly aware that he'd been in touch with his body the entire time. He turns his head in every direction, willing his eyes to open, but they remain firmly shut. All he sees is oblivion.
"Ben," Rey starts from somewhere beside him, her voice bereft of its ethereal quality, and she waits for his breathing to even out before she continues, "there was an accident when we fought for the lightsaber on the Supremacy. You were hurt. There wasn't much that I could do."
"What?" says Ren, breathless.
"I'm sorry."
"What happened?"
"I did what I could."
"No—" Ren swings his head in the direction of Rey's voice, his mind boiling over with frustration "—tell me. What injury are you talking about?"
Rey is silent. Just as Ren is about to raise his voice in the same manner that he had on the Supremacy, she finds hers. He stops breathing when she says, "Your eyes. I wasn't sure at first, but I see it as clear as the stars now. You've lost your sight."
"No."
His heart skips a beat, and as it does Ren reaches for the floor, to see with the Force what he cannot with his eyes. He realizes that he must be on a bed when his hand dips down to what he gauges to be his waist level and touches the air. Before he can throw himself off, something—Rey—grabs his hand. The touch is almost assuring, just like her voice had been, but she refuses to relinquish it when he pulls.
"I'll protect you," says Rey. "I'll keep you here, away from the reaches of the First Order and the Resistance. You don't need to worry—not anymore."
"I," Ren blindly pushes forward, trying to push her away. In his addled state, the Force slips out of his grasp, and he just manages to force her back a step by the shoulder. "I don't need protection. Don't touch me!"
"Stop fighting. Ben, stop fighting!" The grip on his hand tightens, as futile as it would be when she can't hope to overpower him in brute strength. He nevertheless abandons it to touch his face with his other hand, to assess for physical proof of the damage to his eyes, but she grabs that one, too. "Whether you like it or not, I'm here; and you're injured. You need guidance—guidance that Snoke couldn't give you. Let me be the one to help you. You can stop fighting and rest. You just need to let me guide you."
When he continues to squirm with a feral shout, Rey releases her hold. The uneven distribution sends Ren toppling onto the floor, where he pushes himself up with his hands flat on the floor. Then Rey is there again in a flash, her hands wrapping around his wrists, an unrelenting presence who won't allow him a single moment.
"Listen to me, Ben," she says with a tone of finality, so powerful and confident that Ren has no choice but to obey. Against the harsh nothingness of his dead eyes, her every word sounds commanding. "It's just us now, and that means only I can guide you. You will listen."