Little Bird (Kylo Ren x Reader AU)

The Only Way

You were awake.

Your bed was stone, a slab that poked through your flesh into the bone, forcing adjustments between tired sighs. Even though this movement exhausted you, you found it impossible to sleep.

It couldn't have been the baby. After all, it was blueberry-sized at this stage, a time when most women didn't even know they were pregnant. And it couldn't have been pain, as most of it had subsided, or faded to a pleasant, ambient hum in your nerves, far more comforting than distressing. It couldn't have been hunger, either--at least not anymore. Sneaking food from the kitchen after sunset had quelled your raging stomach.

But you still found it impossible to sleep.

It was obvious, of course, why you couldn't, but it was a memory you wanted to avoid processing. Johana's tattered voice, gleaming tears, her admission--I give up, you won--played in your head like a busted cassette tape, rewinding with a sickening click every five seconds. Your Commander's decision, his cruelty, that remained unprocessed too, a willing rejection of his apparent reckless obsession. You would not, could not consider just how deep, how desperate this obsession was, would and could not consider the urgency of its terrible course.

If you considered it too long, you would feel its twin, the ache in your blood, the silver pulse of your own mirrored need--and know its depth and its desperation as easily as you knew to breathe.

You sat up in a sigh. Beyond your porthole window, the quarter-moon was an opal shimmer over the garden, and the only stirring residents outside were crickets, grasses shifting with the whispered wind. If you were going to be awake and miserable, you could at least gaze into something other than your own empty ceiling--so you rolled out of bed with a groan, deciding bare feet and a nightgown were plenty appropriate for a time where you planned for no one else to see you.

On your tip-toes, the creak of wood could be mistaken for the settling of an old home, your fingers skimming the walls for stability while you crept down the steps and through the darkened halls. You weren't sure what time it was, but you knew your Commander to be a man of little sleep and littler compromise--seeing him was the last thing you wanted at this moment. When you reached the back door, you held your breath, flipping the lock and easing the knob to the left, prying it open, only to be greeted with a huge black shadow.

"Jesus Christ!" You bit a scream between your teeth, stumbling back--as your vision focused, heat rushed you. It was a Knight Templar. "Um. Hello."

"What are you doing here?" This was Ushar again--you recognized his voice from earlier--and you relaxed, slightly. Your awkward moment with him was already addressed. "You're not permitted to leave the premises."

Another sigh escaped you, and you crossed your arms. You would've felt more embarrassed to be only in your nightgown if he hadn't already seen everything else.

"I'm not leaving," you replied. "I just want to be outside for a second."

Ushar glanced into the garden, then back to you. Or at least, you thought he did. Helmet and all of that. "It's late. The Commander will expect you to be sleeping."

"Well, to be honest, I don't really care about that right now." You went to push past him, and he side-stepped to follow you. "Oh, come on," you said, "why are you even here? He's home, he shouldn't need you."

"We're on duty until his meeting with the Council tomorrow."

You blinked. "Oh. I thought all of that was today."

He shook his head. "Preparation. Tomorrow is execution." A pause. "Figuratively speaking."

Dread sank its tiny teeth into your stomach. "Or maybe literally, knowing him."