Star Wars - Chthonia - There is no 'You and I'

Rey wishes Kylo Ren would leave her alone. Or so she tells herself.

There is no 'You and I'

**Author's Note:**

* For [mrstater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrstater/gifts).

> Set immediately after Rey and Kylo's second conversation in TLJ.

_Why is the Force connecting us, you and I?_

Rey stepped from the shelter of the _Falcon_ into the lashing rain. She embraced it, as if the water streaming down her face could wash away whatever it was that had just happened.

There was no _you and I._ Not with that creature. She'd run from him on Takodana, in the corridors of Starkiller, in the snow-filled forest, but there he was, always, standing in her way, looking into her with a darkness that made her shiver. And now, he'd somehow followed her even to the 'most unfindable place in the galaxy'.

She stomped along the edge of the cliff.

_You and I._

She wanted no part in it.

But she couldn't stop the memories oozing through: the resentment edging his voice when he'd challenged her about her words in the forest; the way he'd stalked towards her with a predator's grace; how his face had fallen when she'd called him a snake, as if _he_ had any right to hurt after everything he'd done.

_Did he tell you what happened? Did he tell you why?_

Even across the galaxy he was trying to get into her head. What did it matter why he'd destroyed Luke's temple and murdered the other students? Did he really think he could justify it? _Why did he kill his father:_ that was what he should be explaining.

She picked up a rock and hurled it into the seething ocean. An incoming porg squawked and swerved, dropping down to scuttle under a ledge.

She smiled. The fat little birds were everywhere on the island, and they were squeezing into every corner of the _Falcon_ , too. Chewie grumbled about them constantly, but Rey knew from the rumble in his growl that he appreciated the company.

Waiting here wasn't fair on Chewie. They should have been back with the Resistance by now, not sitting in the rain while she failed to persuade Luke to help and Chewie sat down here with only the porgs and the sea to distract him from the gaping absence of Han.

She'd found him one day, sitting in the co-pilot's seat he'd refused to relinquish, staring into the endless rain. She'd sat behind him, leaving the pilot's seat to the ghost of its former occupant.

She'd only known Han and Chewie for a short time, but their reputations had long preceded them. She'd told Chewie about the stories the Wookie traders had told her when they'd come to Niima Outpost: stories of daring escapes and deals gone wrong that had helped her keep hoping on those days when nothing seemed to go her way.

Chewie had given one of his mournful howls. She'd laid her hand on his shoulder. They had sat, and remembered.

The next time she'd joined him at his fire, he'd told her some stories she'd never heard: Han's dismissal of the Force, the first time he'd met Luke; the time Han had first tasted homebrewed Garrmorl and spluttered it all over the cockpit; Leia and Han's many, many arguments and the make-up sex he'd pretended not to hear.

He never mentioned their son. She never dared to ask. What if Chewie had told her he wanted him dead? She'd feel even worse about keeping his appearances secret. What if he'd told her he didn't? That Han's love for his son and his own memories of before were more important?

She didn't want to hear about Kylo Ren's childhood. She hated him. She hated his stupid face. She hated his stupid black clothes. She _hated_ the way he looked at her as if there was something intimate between them, as if he _knew_ her.

_So lonely. So afraid…_

She hated that the only person to have ever looked at her like that was a murderous monster. A monster who revelled in his monstrosity.