The Broken and The Beautiful
Paring: Kylo Ren/Reader
Tags: reader can be read as any gender - but bear in mind I wrote this with female reader in mind, reader is a tactician, relationships, sick character, Kylo Ren needs a hug.
Summary: Reader is a master tactician for the First Order. They love their job, and dedicate many hours toward doing the best they can for their superiors. Maybe, too many hours…
Word Count: 1,400
Posting Date: 2016-09-08
Current Date: 2017-05-22
The days are dark unless the ship is lit. Days stretch on for hours and hours more than they would on planet, as General Hux commanded it. He wanted more from his staff, anything shorter than perfection would result in execution, or at the very least, a look of scorn which was rumoured to incinerate those in its path. Lies. General Armitage Brendol Hux was as human as you were, just like Ren. As darkly-clad the pair of your superior officers were, no matter their influence in the force or no, you were all human.
And, an unknown fact to these fantastical superiors of yours, humans required several things to sustain a healthy lifestyle, or, in your case as an tactical officer to the First Order, life. These things were called sleep, and vitamins, and recreational activities. But, you were not to complain. You slept five hours at a time, sometimes every forty hours to maintain your appearance at the consul, to discuss the next approach in the war. You tried to savour the food, no matter how bland it may be. In your moments of free time, you found yourself daydreaming of fresh produce, and the taste of milk, fresh. Not chemically altered and stored.
It wasn’t until you were forced to intervene in one of Kylo Ren’s episodes – no, you were misremembering the facts. You had been the last to clean out the control room before routine inspections, when the sith came storming in, tearing hellfire through his temper before your very eyes. You weren’t special like himself, but you knew of the force, and somehow, you managed to talk him out of his rage. It was this incident which caused Snoke’s apprentice to become more mindful, much to Hux’s and Supreme Leader’s gratitude.
But none of them realised that it wasn’t his training. It was because of you.
“Your thoughts are loud tonight,” he murmurs. He’s been pacing for the last four hours, waiting for the next paging he has to answer to, waiting for you to be done with your paperwork. “They’re not about what you’re supposed to be thinking about either."
"Mmm,” you hum.
But your mind doesn’t stray any longer, to your black-clad boyfriend, to anything else. It is fixed to the datapad, to the pen that scrawls the notes on and on. Back at the academy, you had passed all your classes with nothing short of a hundred percent. Your family had been quite proud of you, having come from simple roots; you would add some lustre and glory to the family name that farming didn’t naturally accomplish. Your position with the First Order secured them safety from the war zone, and let your mind ease with the prospect of living away.
If you failed your at your job, you would get something harsher than a quick look of scorn, or a night in isolation, or execution. Your family would be harmed. Yes, you worked for the notorious First Order, but that did not mean you had no conscious. Maybe you had too much of one.
For a moment, your eyes loose focus from the desk before you, and blinking, the clarity returns. It isn’t long until your wrist cramps from the speed of your handwriting, and you hear a chair scrape beside you.
“I can’t focus with you so near,” you grumble. But as you turn to glare, expecting to see his arcane, dilapidated helmet, it is not upon his shoulders. Instead, is the pale face, the dark eyes, the nose you find yourself tracing without meaning to when it isn’t before you. It’s rare for Ren to reveal his face, but less so to you. “You’re scrambling my thoughts.”
He shakes his mane. “No, not me today.” He denies.
Your brow furrows, and before you can wonder aloud, you feel another wave hit your eyes, leaving it going in, and out of focus like a camera, except, you can’t control it. At once, you reel, and before you know it, a familiar sensation shows itself from the depths of your insides up.
“I’m taking you to the medbay,” Ren’s brow darkens, and placing his helmet on, he gathers you in his arms.
The moment you wake, the air is still. It feels strange, and the
back of your mouth feels stiff, dry. Your eyes take a moment to focus, and when
they do, you see many things. Your sheets are tucked carefully around you, and
underneath, you are not wearing socks. The lights are bright, except for the
fourth, which flickers until you tune into it, and it stills. It isn’t until
you see movement behind the glass, you remember what happened.
Kylo Ren’s helmet is atop his shoulders, and beside him, a medical droid, and a nurse. Both staff seem nervous around the man, as would anyone unaccustomed to his proximity.
“Lieutenant ________, you’re awake,” the attending nurse’s smile is small. “You’ve been asleep for fourteen hours.” Your mind races, running around in seconds. Fourteen hours? No. No! You couldn’t have slept that long, that was impossible. No! You would have missed six meetings, and the backlog of work alone - “-Lieutenant, please - 2-1B,” the nurse told the droid.
The machine approached you, placing a mask over your nose and mouth. It smelt of clean rooms, and empty thoughts and for some reason, reminded you of the first pair of shoes your parents could afford for you to wear. The screen beside the bed settles, and the droid recedes the mask from your proximity.
“I have contacted your superior officers, and spoken to Commander Ren and General Hux about the circumstances of your illness,” The nurse continues, glancing to the man standing beside him, “He has agreed to shorten the hours awake for your associates and yourself. You will need to come back to the medbay soon to have more tests done to see if there is anything else that needs to be seen to.”
Ren nods, and the false voice from the helmet speaks. “There is no use for a tactical officer whose heath is compromised.” He turns slightly to the nurse, and mutters something that sounds like thanks. “I would like to have some time alone with Lieutenant _________ now."
"Thank you,” your voice is gravelly.
The medical staff recede from the room, leaving you to face him. There is a hiss, and you see his brown eyes. They are more morose than usual, and instead of boring into you, they are soft, and his lips are not taut.
“I had no idea that was how you survived,” he murmurs. You would turn you head to face away, but there’s something in his voice which tempts you to continue gazing upon his face. “I will make sure you will sleep properly, from now on."
Your voice crackles again. "How will you do this?” you test him.
His lips pulls up to the side, a small smile. It has been a while since your boyfriend has smiled, and this one you want to remember for a long time. It’s a lovely smile. If you weren’t both in precarious positions, it would be a smile you would see everyday, for all reasons. But there was no way your mind could take leaving your job; it was made to tackle precarious topics, positions, and after all that the great Kylo Ren had done, there was no way the ex-Jedi could take up the simple life of a farmer.
“Why, it’s simple,” his deep voice taunts, but this time, he is not being childish, or mocking you. “I will share the sheets with you. There’s no way to escape when we both shall be sleeping together.”
You feel colour reach your cheeks. “Are-are you sure?” you whisper.
Ren nods, reaching to hold your hand in his. You are smaller than him, his calloused palm almost swallowing your digits whole. “I’m broken, and you’re beautiful. We’re a match made in the stars, ________, love. I’m sure.”
You squeeze his hand, taking in the face of the man you love, for all his features and imperfections, for all his bad deeds and good deeds. “I wouldn’t say you’re broken,” you murmur back. “You’re mending, like I am. We are mending together.”
He leans forward, planting a kiss upon your cheekbone. “Ah, I see. Well, if we are mending together, it shall be a swift mend.”