Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Hey, kid! This isn’t a hostel! Packages for Sector 5 aren’t going to deliver themselves!"

Rey’s hands moved before her mind had even caught up. The package Plutt had flung at her head slapped into her palms with a sharp, jarring impact. She winced. Damn it, she’d reacted too quickly again. But Plutt, of course, hadn’t noticed. He was already chewing out another one of his messengers, his voice cutting through the air.

As Rey turned back toward her locker, she caught the look in Poe and Finn’s eyes — shock mixed with hint of confusion.

"Rose’s hook up scored some java," Rey said, forcing a carefree smile as she shoved the package into the pile of deliveries she was carrying. Her tattered backpack strained under the weight, barely holding together. "I'm practically super charged today."

Finn’s brow furrowed immediately. "The ginger is still a thing?"

"Coffee? Really?" Poe added, sounding amused. "Haven’t seen any in months. Dude must have some serious connections."

Rey let out a quiet sigh of relief, glad her diversion had worked, pulling the attention away from the unnatural speed of her reflexes. She rolled her shoulders, trying to act casual.

"Yeah, the ginger’s still around," Rey replied, her voice carrying a hint of exasperation as she glanced back up at Finn. "He’s a total prick, but his father is high up with the Sector Police. Keeps our building off their radar... for now."

"Gotta do what you gotta do," Poe said with a carefree chuckle, tossing his battered bike onto the rack behind them. "Hey, grab her and join us at Crash tomorrow night. I need to win back some of that cash you both hustled me out of last time."

Finn’s face lit up with a little hope as Rey wheeled her own bike toward the exit. "Keep dreaming, flyboy. We’ll be walking out with your day’s wages again. See you both there tomorrow. You won't be able to miss us, we’ll be the ones rolling in extra credits, surrounded by our leagues of adoring fans."

Rey’s smile faltered as she slipped past them, her gaze dropping. She pushed through the sea of other messengers, the noise of the crowded hallway fading into a dull hum. Outside, the cool bite of the Fall air couldn’t shake the tight knot forming in her chest. She maneuvered her bike through the street market near Jampony headquarters, weaving past stalls and haggling vendors, but the restless thoughts in her mind wouldn’t let go.

These mistakes are going to catch up to me, she thought grimly.

For the first time in her life, she’d started to feel settled, like Seattle could actually be a home. She had people she cared about, a rhythm to the chaos. But that comfort — that sense of belonging — was making her sloppy. She was getting careless. And she couldn’t afford to be careless.

If anyone found out what she really was, everything would fall apart. Her life, gone in an instant, and everyone around her would go down with her.

Her vision swam as her mind drifted back to another family she had once made for herself. Others who had been lost.

She shook her head, trying to shake off the spiraling thoughts. She couldn’t afford distractions. Plutt would can her ass without hesitation if these packages weren’t delivered on time. And even though there were easier ways to make credits, especially for someone like her, this was the best way to blend in. And she liked this false life she built for herself, one where she could just pretend to be normal, pretend to be one of the countless faces making their way through the city streets.

Sometimes she could forget, sometimes the illusion was strong enough to fool herself, even if only for a little while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They say Seattle was once one of the most advanced cities in the country, with tech giants pushing the boundaries of progress. That was before the Pulse — before Rey’s time, so she couldn’t really say for sure. The Pulse had wiped out the country’s entire digital infrastructure. A foreign attack that turned the ones and zeros — the very foundation of the modern world apparently — into just plain zeroes.

And the joke, the dark one that people still whispered in hushed tones, was that the Pulse had ignited the fall of what had been considered modern civilization, plunging the entire globe into a deep, stagnant depression that slowed any real chance at rebuilding.

Rey couldn’t picture that Seattle. It felt like a myth to her, something passed down through stories, but not something she could truly mourn. Not like the others, the ones who still held onto memories of a city bustling with life, innovation, and possibility. What she could mourn was the absence of a world where something as simple as supplements — a basic commodity in those days — wasn’t nearly impossible to get.

This fact weighed down heavily on Rey as she she handed off the last package of her day. The customer was a creep, one of the worst in the sector. What little of his apartment she could see, was plastered with vintage nudie posters. She crinkled her nose as she passed over the package, likely containing contents you couldn't pay her to investigate. But as she shoved the package into his eager hands, something caught her eye: the tremor in her fingers.

It was subtle, barely noticeable unless you were paying attention, but Rey’s pulse quickened. She clenched her hands into fists to hide the shake.

As she spilled backed onto the street, her shaking fingers wormed out the last of her stash from the pocket of her haggard jeans, popping it into her mouth dry as she kicked off into the afternoon crowd. She'd have to pull another job quicker than she anticipated, her latest top up hadn't lasted her nearly as long as she had hoped.

Luckily she didn't need to sleep as much as normal people, and her connection had already alluded to a lucrative acquisition a client had been requesting for some time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sector 3 was the nicest area of the city she could access with her advanced messenger Sector Pass. Which was just fine, because that was where her target was.

And luck was on her side tonight, the guards barely batted their eyes at her pass as she pulled her precious Ducati through the gates. She had extra credits in case she needed to bribe the ever greedy Sector Police, but it was always a bonus if she didn't need too.

The motorbike was something she only brought out when she required it for a potentially speedy getaway. It had taken her ages to find all the pieces to restore it, and the gas alone — precious commodity that it was — cost her an arm and a leg.

The city was full of thieves and con-artists, and a pretty bike like this tended to attract a lot of unwanted attention if she let it. But unbenknowst to most, she was an apex predator above all else. A wolf in sheep's clothing. She wasn't the least bit ashamed at the amount of violence she doled out in the past in the name of her beloved Ducati.

Two blocks away from her target, Rey cut the engine, the low hum of the bike dying away as she slid it silently behind a dumpster tucked into the shadowy recesses of a narrow alley. She let her senses heighten, slipping effortlessly into the practiced rhythm of her deeply engrained training. Her hearing stretched out, catching every subtle sound in the heavy night air. The streets were eerily quiet, save for a drunk couple weaving and stumbling their way down the street in the opposite direction. Rey held perfectly still, as silent as a shadow, until they rounded the corner and vanished from sight.

With the way clear, she moved. In a single, fluid motion, Rey leapt into the air, the muscles in her legs coiling and releasing like a spring. She grabbed onto the retracted escape stairwell from where it lay unused on the third floor, the metal bars cool under her palms. With a soft grunt, she pulled herself up, scaling the building with effortless precision. Her feet barely made a sound as they hit each rung, and in a matter of seconds, she was at the top of the six-story structure, her breath steady, her movements smooth and sure.

For just a moment, she let herself feel it — the surge of exhilaration that came from pushing her body to its limits. For those few seconds, it was nice to feel untouchable. Unstoppable. She let the feeling linger, savoring the rush of adrenaline that followed her every movement.

Her sharp hazel eyes locked onto her target—the taller building in the distance. Her mind raced, calculating the distance, counting the floors in an instant. The office she needed was on the 18th floor, the south-facing side.

As her gaze sharpened, she spotted the soft glow of a flashlight moving along the darkened office floor. One security guard. She smirked. Easy enough.

After another swift scan of her surroundings, Rey crouched low and dashed across the rooftop, the soles of her boots barely making a sound against the gravel-y surface. She leapt effortlessly to the next building, her body moving with fluid precision, her breath barely audible. She darted from one rooftop to another, the landscape unfolding beneath her like a web, until she was positioned directly across from her target.

The gap was too wide to simply jump — no, the balcony she needed was a solid ten stories above her current perch. A problem, but not one that was going to stop her.

Without hesitation, she reached into her backpack and pulled out a length of rope. From the looks of it, it wasn’t much, but Rey had a way of making even the simplest tools work in her favour. The grappling hook, a makeshift creation of her own design, was one of her most useful item on jobs like this. It wasn’t pretty, but it did the job.

She steadied herself, took a breath, and with practiced precision, hurled the hook into the air. It flew true, landing with a sharp clink as it caught the metal frame of the balcony above.

The noise was enough to draw the attention of the lone security guard. His flashlight beam swept across the dark expanse, cutting through the night like a blade, but Rey remained still, perfectly masked by the shadows. The light wavered, sweeping back and forth, before finally fading into nothingness as he moved on, his attention drifting away just as quickly as it had come.

Rey gripped the rope tightly, her muscles drawing taught as she launched herself off the ledge with a surge of controlled power. The night air rushed past her, and for a brief moment, she felt weightless. Her boots hit the opposite building with a soft thud, her legs flexing to effortlessly absorb the impact. With quick fluid motions, she pulled herself up the rope, the familiar burn of exertion fueling her as she scaled the building’s exterior.

Her heart slowed to a rhythmic pulse, steady and controlled, as she eased herself over the balcony edge. She moved like a wisp of smoke, her senses heightened, every detail of the 18th floor coming into sharp focus. The security guard she’d spotted earlier had his back turned, walking away from her line of sight, absorbed in his rounds. Rey’s lips curled into a small, satisfied smile — this was her element.

As much as she’d enjoy a good fight, she knew discretion was smarter tonight. In and out, unseen. That was the goal.

She crouched low on the balcony, waiting patiently, blending into the shadows. Her body was still as a stone, her mind sharp and calculating. Moments like this were where her training took over, where time seemed to stretch, and strategic patience became second nature.

But as she waited, something shifted. A subtle prickling sensation crept up the back of her neck, like fingers brushing lightly against her skin. Alarm bells began to ring in her mind. Her instincts were telling her something wasn’t right.

She broke her gaze from the guard, her eyes scanning the streets below and the rooftops stretching into the dark horizon. A feeling, cold and unsettling, gnawed at her. Someone’s watching me. The thought hit her like a jolt of electricity.

Her eyes flicked over every shadow, every flicker of movement, but there was nothing. The streets were empty, the rooftops quiet. Yet that feeling lingered, a quiet whisper in the back of her mind. Slowly, her anxiety began to ebb, the tension unwinding as she forced herself to breathe and refocus.

Turning back to the office, she exhaled. The coast was finally clear.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The wealthy elite of this world were absurd, their frivolity bordering on the laughable. But that very excess could be her ticket to easy money, Rey thought as she rolled her bike out into the dark street.

She’d slipped in and out of the office with practiced ease, her prize now tucked securely in her backpack. A dozen vintage handheld game systems and cartridges. A relic of a bygone era that some money back entrepreneurs were desperate enough to replicate, but clearly valuable enough for a competitor to spend a small fortune on stealing.

Her mind buzzed with the thrill of the score as she mounted the motorbike, the cool night air cutting across her skin. But just as she was about to speed off, movement in the corner of her eye froze her. A tall, dark figure loomed at the far end of the street, standing motionless in the shadow of a streetlight. All she could make out was the outline of his broad shoulders, his long, ink-black hair falling loosely over them. His stillness — his silent observation — sent a ripple of unease through her.

Had he seen her?

Her mind snapped to attention, the possibilities running through her like wildfire.

Had they finally caught up to her? The thought slammed into her chest, cold and electric.

For a moment, her carefully crafted composure began to unravel, a thousand scenarios spinning out of control. But before she could act on the growing panic, the figure simply shrugged off the wall and started walking in the opposite direction, his footsteps echoing in the quiet night.

Her breath left her in a slow exhale. Nothing. It’s nothing.

Rey didn’t waste another moment. She revved her engine, the familiar hum of the bike grounding her as she tore away from the street corner, eager to leave the encounter behind.

She tried to shake it off. He’s no one.

But even as she sped through the winding streets, weaving in and out of the shadows, her instincts kept her on edge. For hours, she darted through the city, checking every corner, watching every reflection in the glass, convinced that someone might be following her. The hairs on the back of her neck remained prickled, even though she saw no sign of pursuit.

As the first pale light of dawn began to creep across the skyline, Rey allowed herself a quiet sigh of relief. No armed goons, no shadowy figures lurking in the corners of her vision. Maybe it was nothing after all.

By the time the city began to stir with the first whispers of morning, she had reached her apartment. With a final, quiet glance over her shoulder, Rey relaxed, slipping inside her door and locking it behind her.

For now, she was safe. But even as she flopped down on her mattress and her eyelids fluttered closed, a faint unease lingered at the edges of her thoughts.

Chapter Text

"Girl, get your scrawny behind out of bed."

Rey barely stirs, her eyelids fluttering open as she only partially pretends to groggily roll out of bed. She doesn’t need much sleep, but she enjoys the rare peace that comes with it.

"When did you even get in last night?" Rose’s voice cuts through the silence, filled with her usual mix of concern and exasperation. "I tried to wait up for you, but I gave up after midnight."

Rey groans theatrically, throwing a half-hearted eye roll at the ceiling. "Sorry, Mama Bear," she mutters with a grin that doesn’t quite meet her tired eyes. Her mind races, scrambling to come up with a quick excuse as Rose’s disapproving figure moves closer. The feisty brunette’s suspicious gaze locks on her, and Rey knows she’s not going to get away with any half-baked story.

"Took my baby out for a cruise," Rey says, her words smooth, "but the Sector Police got a little too curious. Spent way too long bribing my way out of lock-up again." She exhales sharply, letting the exhaustion in her voice sell the lie as Rose pulls her into the makeshift living area.

The space feels like a patchwork of memories, its walls creaking under the weight of time and neglect. The space they’ve shared for the past year is technically in a condemned structure— a near relic by this point. Rey had stumbled onto this hidden community of squatters soon after arriving in the city, desperate for somewhere to rest. Rose had found her, curled up in one of the more uninhabitable units, and pulled her in like a long-lost sister.

The furniture is mismatched, all salvaged from the remnants of a better time, and the plumbing barely works — cold water one day, nothing the next. Yet, within these walls, in this disheveled corner of the city, Rey has found something rare: a sense of belonging. It's all she has, but it’s everything.

"Rey," Rose starts, her voice tinged with a familiar note of admonishment. "I’ve told you a hundred times, if you ever need help with the Sector Police, let me know. You know Armie can help us if we’re in a bind."

"No, thank you." Rey huffs, her posture stiffening as she crosses her arms. "I will not owe your precious 'Armie' any favors. Besides, I can clearly take care of myself."

Rose raises an eyebrow not amused, but she’s already distracted by the steaming pot she’s stirring over their single burner hot plate. Even without the drama of the moment, there’s something almost fiercely efficient about the way Rose works. Despite her small stature, Rey can’t help but think Rose would have made a formidable soldier. What she lacks in height, she more than makes up for in grit. "Don’t start with me," Rose says, flicking a glance in Rey’s direction. "He may be different from the rest of us, but Armie’s a good guy once you get to know him. And he’s the one who’s kept this place off the Sector Police’s radar. We’d still be paying our 'protection tax' every week if it weren’t for him." She jabs the porridge coated spoon in Rey’s direction as if trying to punctuate her point.

Rey rolls her eyes dramatically but can’t help the smile tugging at her lips. "Alright, alright, calm down." She eases herself off the couch, raising her hands in mock surrender. Rose’s huff is audible, but she doesn’t look up from her stirring. Rey approaches, her movements quick and playful now, as she wraps her arms around Rose’s waist from behind, pulling her into a tight squeeze.

Rose squeals in protest, her laughter bubbling up as she tries to wriggle free. "Stop it!" she giggles, squirming against Rey’s hold, but there’s no real malice behind it.

Rey just holds her tighter, giving her another squeeze for good measure. "We just aren't used to the Hux’s of this world, Rose," she says with a smirk, her voice light. "To us, he seems like a spoiled prat. But kriff, if you can’t get anyone to love you.... how do you do that, huh?"

Rose visibly perks up at the praise, a smug smile spreading across her face. "I was born with an incomparable amount of charm and beauty," she declares with playful confidence.

Rey can’t help but melt into the moment, allowing herself to savor the simple pleasure of these carefree interactions. For most of her life, she’s been too busy fighting to survive, too guarded to enjoy moments like this — simple touches, easy jokes. It’s hard to pull herself away, but she does. She can’t risk getting too close, not when she knows how dangerous it is to let her walls slip.

"Is that honey?" she asks, her gaze shifting to the jar of golden goodness. It’s a small thing, but she’s looking for a way to steer the conversation into safer territory.

Rose hums happily, lifting the jar so the sunlight catches it, making it gleam like treasure. "Yup," she chirps, "I traded some extra soap for it when I saw it at the market. Thought of you right away. I know how much you love it."

Rey’s eyes light up, and she grins, holding her hands out in mock desperation. "Gimme, gimme."

"What would you do without me?" Rose asks, her voice teasing as she spoons oatmeal into their bowls.

Rey rushes off to their small table with her breakfast, a playful smirk on her face. "I dunno," she says lightly, her tone affectionate. "Probably be a real sad sight. And definitely no honey." She pours the sweet syrup over her warm oats, relishing the sticky indulgence.

"You good to go to Crash tonight? Poe wants a rematch," Rey asks as Rose settles in across from her.

She laughs loudly in response, "What and idiot. And Of course, I would never say no to whooping his ass with my rear tire spokes. I'll bring Armie."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maz Kanata runs the underground market of Seattle with an efficiency that borders on legendary. Rey imagines that even before the Pulse, this bustling underworld was a well-oiled machine, and Maz had been at its heart.

The ancient woman, a fixture in the labyrinth of stalls, is in the middle of a heated argument with a hulking thug when Rey approaches that afternoon. The counter before Maz is littered with innocuous dried herbs and gaudy, mismatched jewelry — items that wouldn’t raise the interest of an eager, fresh-faced Sector agent looking to make a name for themselves.

No, Maz is careful. Nothing valuable or dangerous ever finds its way to the surface here.

“You don’t come back around here until you’ve done your part of the deal,” Maz growls, her voice sharp and commanding. “Now get lost.” The ogre-like man limps away, wounded pride evident in his slumped shoulders.

Rey takes in the scene quietly before stepping forward, and in an instant, the gruff, no-nonsense demeanor fades from Maz’s face. A soft, fond smile appears as her large, thick glasses catch the light and magnify her eyes. "There she is, my favourite girl," Maz croaks, her voice warm, a contrast to the harsh words she just directed at the thug. "You have something for me?"

"You know me, Maz. Didn't even break a sweat," Rey says with a playful glint in her eye, tapping the side of her well-worn backpack.

Maz cackles, a low, gravelly laugh that echoes through the market. In an instant, she springs down from her stool and ambushes Rey with a surprisingly strong, vice-like hug. Rey fights not to stiffen under the familiar embrace, especially as she feels the tell-tale cool plastic of a bottle slipping discreetly into her pocket. Maz pulls back, grinning up at her with a gleam in her wrinkled eyes.

"You never fail me, do you, dear?" she croons, her voice carrying a fondness that Rey’s not used to hearing from many.

Rey flashes a grin, shrugging off the compliment. "Not in a million years," she quips, glancing at Maz’s smile before it falters.

Maz's eyes soften, and for the first time, the sharpness in her gaze dulls, replaced by something... almost sad. "You know where to drop it off, then, I trust you." she responds, her voice quieter.

She shuffles on her feet, her gaze flicking briefly to the busy market stalls before adding, "It's getting harder and harder to come by. I’m expanding my network all the time, but..." Her voice dips, a rare vulnerability slipping through the cracks of her otherwise tough exterior. "This is the last of it until I can find a new source."

Rey feels a shift in the air as the news settles over her like a cold wave. She holds her expression steady, forcing her face to remain neutral. "Sounds good. Thanks for the top-up, Maz," she says, her tone light despite the weight of the situation. She flashes a quick wink at the old woman before turning on her heel, heading towards the usual drop spot, the bottle now hidden securely in her pocket.

Maz’s words linger in the back of her mind like a heavy fog, clouding her thoughts as she melts into the rhythm of the market. She forces herself to move, blending into the crowd, but underneath her calm exterior, the gears are turning. If things get desperate, she’ll need a new strategy — one that doesn’t involve Maz’s dwindling supply. She knows where to find what she needs: there are hospitals in the city, their security top of the line, but she is far from a novice. The thought of breaking into them sends a pulse of adrenaline through her veins, but she keeps the plan tucked away for now.

The Tryptophan in her pocket is more than just a supplement. It’s the thin thread that keeps her from unraveling completely. Without it, Rey would be lost to the seizures that have plagued her since she started to hit puberty. The supplement stabilizes the chaos inside her brain, counteracting the effects of the genetic cocktail that makes her what she is. The deficiency that developed within the grey matter in her brain, the myelin.

Rey is part of the fifth generation, the X5 series, the one that was supposed to be perfect, the pinnacle twisted military experimentation. Human, by all outward appearances, but with the traits of apex predators woven into her DNA. Stronger. Faster. More lethal. The scientists had believed they’d created the ideal soldier, but they were wrong — there were still a few lingering flaws in her batch.

Many of her peers never made it out. They were discarded — liquidated, the word echoed in her mind like an old, painful memory.

But no. Rey rolls her head letting out a shaky breath, pushing the thought away before it can take root. She won’t think about that. Not now. Not while she’s still standing. She forces her focus back on the present, the streets of Seattle bustling around her as she moves swiftly through the crowd, the weight of the bottle pressing into her side, a reminder of how close she always is to losing control.

She’s not going to think about them. She’s not going to think about the past. Her future is where her focus needs to lie.

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Once night had fallen, and Rey had burned off the nervous energy that had kept her moving throughout the day, she pedaled toward her favorite haunt — Crash. Her day off had been filled with errands, small tasks that kept her distracted and out of her own head. Now, as the cool night air hit her face, she felt a slight shift in her mood, a tension easing away.

When Rose first found Rey, the two had bonded over Rose's love for biking. She was already an accomplished BMX rider and introduced Rey to the sport — and with Rey’s superior agility, it had been an easy hobby to pick up. She enjoyed the adrenaline, the freedom, and, sometimes, showing off just a little bit.

But tonight, as Rey pulled up to the dilapidated structure that was Crash, she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling growing in her gut. The place, normally teeming with energy and noise on a Saturday night, was strangely quiet. The adjacent bike track, where riders usually showed off their skills, sat abandoned, empty under the dim glow of the streetlights.

Her brows furrowed as she rolled to a stop, her eyes narrowing as she studied the scene. Something wasn’t right.

Rey didn’t move at first, instead letting her senses expand, focusing on the pub. Normally, there would be raucous laughter and chatter spilling out into the street, but tonight... tonight, all she could hear were hushed voices and the soft shuffle of feet. The kind of noise that was far too quiet for a rowdy weekend crowd, too careful. Too secretive.

Her instincts kicked in immediately. She stayed low, not wanting to draw attention to herself.

Rey’s breath came in a steady rhythm as she listened harder. There was something wrong here — something was off. She could feel it in her bones. Something was happening, and she needed to figure out what.

In a smooth motion, she dismounted her bike, tucking it behind a nearby bush out of sight. With calculated movements, she approached the side of the building, her steps light and quick, her eyes rapidly scanning the area for threats.

The uneasy silence of the night clung to her skin as she crept closer, ready for whatever waited inside. As she rounded the back of the building her eyes quickly scanned the dimmed windows, There were a lot of people inside, but the atmosphere was wrong — too still, too tense. Was this some kind of ambush? If it was, it was a poorly executed one.

Before she could scale the building's downspout to get a better view, a hushed voice sliced through the tension, sending a flicker of recognition down her spine.

"Shhh! Quiet, everyone, seriously. I want this to be a fun surprise, and you’ll ruin it if you don’t shut up!" Rose's whisper-yell echoed into the night, followed by the unmistakable sound of shuffling feet and muffled laughter.

Rey froze mid-step, her heart stuttering as the realization hit her — this wasn’t an ambush. She wasn’t in danger, at least not in the way she’d imagined.

"Where did she go?" Finn’s voice reached her ears, laced with concern. "She was just out front a few minutes ago, and now she’s gone. Does anyone see her?"

Rey barely contained a groan. What in the world were they doing? Her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room through the window, and she could now clearly see the pub was packed with its usual crowd of regulars, most of them looking impatient and distracted. But up front, her rag-tag group of friends stood, all seeming to hover with anxious energy.

No weapons, no signs of hostility... what was this about?

While everyone was distracted, trying to spot her through the front windows, Rey took advantage of the moment. She slipped in through the back door, silently making her way inside, her heartbeat still quickening as she tried to process what was happening.

The only person who seemed to catch her entrance was Reggie, the gruff bar owner who, despite his usual aloof demeanor, seemed to be reluctantly part of the festivities tonight.

"Surprise!" he grunted with a half-hearted enthusiasm that was more his style — his dark beard obscuring most of his face as he wiped a glass clean.

A few other patrons, chimed in with their own mumbled sentiments between sips of their drinks.

Rey couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, stepping fully into the room from the shadows and into the dim lighting. Her mischievous grin spread, the unease of the night finally slipping away. "What's with all the suspense, guys?" she teased, her voice light, amused by the strange atmosphere.

Rose, who had been standing just inside the door, jumped at the sight of her. "Kriff, Rey!" she gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "What are you doing?! Oh no!" she groaned, looking to the rest of the group. "The surprise is ruined!"

Finn, who had been pacing in the corner like a nervous ball of energy, visibly relaxed at the sight of Rey and shot her a lopsided grin. "Happy Birthday, peanut!" he exclaimed with exaggerated cheer. "Come here, you weirdo — way to ruin the surprise!"

Birthday? The word hit her with a sudden jolt of confusion, making her freeze for just a second. Damn, she had completely forgotten about this. It had been years since she’d even thought about the date she had chosen to be her false birthday. The truth was, Rey didn’t know when she was born. She knew she was one of the youngest in her series but that was it. The Institute never celebrated anything as pointless as birthdays. But, in the world she lived in now, it was as close to a "real" birthday as she was ever going to get.

She shrugged casually, trying to play it cool, the smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "The joint was way too quiet, so I decided to scout out the area, see if I was going to be ambushed. But clearly, you guys are up to something, huh?"

Poe, who had been lounging by the bar, piped up with his usual light-hearted charm. "It’s not every day someone turns 19, Rey," he said, raising his drink high and slamming it down with a loud, triumphant whoop. His voice seemed to kick off the usual hustle and bustle of the pub, the tension in the room melting away with the clinking of glasses and the murmur of the crowd.

Rey raised an eyebrow, the realization sinking in. "A surprise party? For me?" she asked, glancing around at her friends. Her eyes flicked from Poe, to Rose, to Hux — who stood aloof with a half-empty glass of something neon-colored in his hand. Finn was grinning like a Cheshire cat, stepping aside to reveal a pile of wrapped gifts and a beautifully sloppy looking cake.

It finally hit her. They were celebrating her. A birthday party. Her first birthday party.

Chapter Text

Rey’s bike whipped through the air, the tires hitting the dirt track with perfect precision as she and Rose synced their movements flawlessly. They hit the first jump in tandem, executing a crisp X-up before their tires touched back down smoothly. They stayed locked in rhythm throughout the course, a seamless blend of speed and style, pulling off their final trick — an effortless mirrored bar spin. The onlookers erupted with excitement, the energy buzzing in the air.

As they skidded to a stop, Rey couldn’t help but grin at the response. It was a no-brainer — Finn and Poe’s run had been good, but it lacked the tight coordination that Rey and Rose had. Their connection, their bond, was what made their performance unbeatable.

"Pay up!" Rose bounced on her heels, practically vibrating with excitement, while Rey just let out a laugh, her eyes catching Poe’s annoyed expression.

"One day, ladies," Poe said, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. "One day soon, the piper is gonna come a' calling."

Rey raised an eyebrow and grinned at him, savoring the moment. "Yeah, yeah," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "Just like every other time we beat you. Pay up."

With a resigned sigh, Poe handed over a stack of credits, clearly not happy about it. Finn, however, was far too smart to ever put money on the table against Rey and Rose. Instead, he placed a hand on Poe’s shoulder and gave him a cheeky grin. "That’s right, Dameron," he said, nudging him with his elbow. "If we had nailed that Superman seatgrab, we would’ve finally had ‘em. Ambition clouded our judgement."

Rey raised her eyebrows, giving Poe a look of mock sympathy. "Don’t pout, Flyboy," she teased, her lips curling into a smirk. "Next round’s on me."

Poe, still scowling but obviously trying to hide a smile, gave her an acquiescent hand shake. "We had to let you win this time, it's your birthday" he grumbled.

Rey held up the credits between them, a playful glint in her eye. "Well, Happy Birthday to me," she said with a wink, turning towards the bar.

She didn’t drink. She wouldn’t allow herself to become that compromised. But the sight of her friends, loose and laughing, carefree in the dim, buzzing atmosphere of the bar, made her smile. Their joy was infectious, and she couldn’t help but feel a quiet sense of contentment as she watched them unwind.

Rey blinked in surprise when Reggie was already there, waiting with a pitcher of light beer and a glass of water.

“The gentleman over there said this round’s on him.” The gruff man’s voice pulled her attention, and at her confused look, he casually pointed behind his shoulder with his thumb.

Across the crowded room, her gaze locked onto the man in question. Her heart stuttered in her chest. Just a fleeting glimpse — enough to send a jolt of recognition through her. Without thinking, without a second’s hesitation, she found herself moving, pushing past the sea of bodies, her feet carrying her forward in a rush.

The air around her felt thick, her movements frantic as she surged through the crowd, her breath coming quicker with each step. Her mind was a blur of heat and confusion, a wild, spinning disorientation. She finally broke through the mass, only to find herself standing in a space that was... empty.

No way. Her thoughts crashed into one another in a frantic storm. It couldn’t be him. Her mind was playing tricks on her, wasn’t it?

Rey turned in sharp, panicked movements, scanning the room with wild eyes. She was almost afraid to look. Afraid of what she might see.

Her gaze locked onto a man with sharp features and dark hair, the angles were all wrong. When he saw her eyes, he grinned, a sleazy, half-drunk wink sending a cold chill down her spine. He took a stumble toward her, misreading the moment entirely.

“Sick moves, pretty lad—” His voice was thick with alcohol as Rey shoved past him, her shoulder brushing roughly against his. Not interested. Her mind was sometimes playing tricks with her — she had thought he was someone else.

For a brief, disorienting second, it had looked like him. It had felt like him.

Ben.

But it couldn't be him, Ben is dead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

7 Years Ago

Rey’s eyes snap open at Ben’s signal — a single, low whistle that cuts through the stillness of the night. The sound is sharp, urgent, and it sends a chill down her spine, immediately snapping her from sleep into action. In an instant, the entire group scrambles out of their cots and race to take their positions by the door of the barracks.

There are only thirteen of them left now. The others, the ones who had once completed this group, are gone. Just two days ago, the doctors came for Kaydel, took her for liquidation.

Liquidation. The threat hangs in the air, cold and final, as the memory of the fallen presses down on them like an invisible weight, a crushing presence that fills them with a sense of urgency.

But for now, they turn to face Ben. He stands at the forefront, his presence looming, a silent command. The oldest, the biggest among them, Ben has always been the natural leader. It’s his quiet authority that holds them together in this fractured dangerous place.

Ben’s dark eyes scan the group with sharp precision, taking in every detail, every slight shift in body language. His gaze sweeps across them all, ensuring he has their full, undivided attention. But he doesn’t need to worry. They are all on a knife’s edge, every breath held tight in the oppressive silence.

He raises two fingers, the movement crisp and controlled, and points to the door. Two on patrol in the hallways, he signals. His eyes move to each of them in turn, ensuring they understand. Then, he points at his wrist and holds up four fingers — four minutes. They will hold position for exactly four minutes until there is a guard shift before taking action. There’s no need for words; their minds, sharp as razors, immediately fall into perfect sync, silently beginning the count in their heads.

Ben moves then, a shadow among shadows, slipping to the back of the group. His place is always at the rear, watching, guiding, protecting.

As he passes Rey, their eyes meet — brief, yet heavy with unspoken understanding. Her heart skips in her chest, caught in the intensity of his gaze. His dark, intense eyes bore into hers with an unsettling intensity, as if silently assessing, searching for something.

Then, without a word, out of sight from the others, he lets his hand slip into hers. His grip is firm but gentle, his fingers closing around her small, trembling palm. She feels the warmth of his touch, the subtle pressure, grounding her in that brief moment of contact. The tremor in her hand, which she hadn’t realized was there, calms slightly.

Over the past year, those who had developed the tremor had slowly disappeared from their ranks. One by one, they were gone. She knew, with a sickening certainty, that her fate had been sealed the moment her hands shook during weapons training several weeks ago. It couldn’t have been anything else. They were supposed to be perfect — honed instruments, finely tuned to respond with precision in even the most harrowing moments. A hand that trembled wasn’t just a flaw. It was a defect.

Rey had always thought, for the longest time, that among them all, Ben was the ideal. He was everything they strived to be — strong, unwavering, a being who couldn’t even know fear. His presence was the embodiment of certainty, of control. If anyone was immune to weakness, it was him.

But that day, as his eyes latched onto the minute tremor in her fingers as she set down her rifle, Rey understood with a gut-wrenching clarity that she had been wrong. Ben wasn’t flawless. He wasn’t untouchable. In that fleeting, silent moment, when his gaze pierced hers with an intensity that felt as though he was seeing straight through her, she realized something she hadn’t before.

He was afraid.

In that brief second, she had never seen anyone look more terrified than he did.

The planning began immediately after they bunked down for the night. “We’re leaving. We won’t be coming back.” Ben's words were blunt, unyielding, and the weight they carried was undeniable. No one questioned him. Not here. Not ever. Ben’s word was law. If he said it was time to leave the facility, it was an order they would follow through on.

Sadly, their plan hadn’t come together quickly enough to save Kaydel. In all likelihood, they would lose more before the night was through. The thought tightened Rey’s chest, but she pushed it down, burying it beneath the cold resolve that had become second nature to her.

Ben’s grip on her hand was firm, steady — almost reassuring. He gave her a slight squeeze when it was time to move, a small, silent affirmation that they were in this together. But then Rey did something that surprised even her. She hesitated.

The others moved with practiced efficiency, slipping past the doorway, their movements like whispers in the dark, as if they had rehearsed this a thousand times before. But Rey stayed rooted, her feet frozen to the spot, her heart racing.

“X5-452, fall in line.” Ben’s whisper was sharp, but gentle, an order and a plea all in one. Her eyes winced at the cold designation — the number that had been stamped onto her, a barcode permanently tattooed to the back of her neck. They were all just numbers at the First Order Institute. Their names were the ones they had given each other.

She couldn’t do it. Not like this. What if Ben got hurt because of her? What if it was her fault, because she was defective, broken? The thought churned in her stomach, making her feel smaller, weaker.

“Ben…” Her voice barely made it past her lips, a fragile whisper of doubt. Her eyes searched his familiar, comforting features, looking for reassurance, looking for some sign that everything would be okay. But her heart ached with the fear that she was dragging him down with her.

“Rey.” His voice was softer now, answering all the unspoken words between them. There was no condemnation, no judgment — just understanding, just the raw truth of what had always existed between them.

His large hand came up to gently smooth across the soft hair along her scalp, the touch tender in a way that no one else’s could be. The staff kept them all uniformly buzzed, regardless of their gender designation.

The moment passed too quickly. Ben’s expression hardened — his concern for her still there, but now overshadowed by the urgency of the situation. He didn’t give her a chance to say anything more before he pulled her, forcefully but not unkindly, out into the hallway.

The others had already made it to the window, their figures silhouetted against the dim light of the exterior. They were moving swiftly, silently slipping down to the dark ground below, disappearing into the shadows. Mitaka had disabled the alarms earlier that day, creating the most direct path to the northern exterior fences. The closest perimeter. Their best chance at escape.

But Rey’s mind wasn’t on the plan. Her mind was on Ben, on the way his touch lingered just a moment longer than it needed to. On the way her heart felt both light and heavy at the same time. They were leaving, yes, but nothing about this escape felt like freedom — not yet.

Rey’s attention snapped into sharper focus the moment her bare feet sank into the cold, snow-covered ground. The chill was biting, immediately seeping into her skin, but she hardly noticed it. The group, still in their designated sleep gowns — thin, impractical fabric — had no opportunity to acquire more appropriate attire without raising suspicion.

But the cold didn’t seem to affect them. Their bodies had been molded, trained, designed to endure extreme conditions. Years of harsh discipline and grueling training had taught them to withstand the unthinkable.

Despite the biting cold, Rey’s body moved without hesitation, instinct guiding her steps as they silently weaved through the snow-drenched yard.

Her mind was spinning, and for a brief moment, she wanted to let out a sigh of relief, but it was too soon. Too early. They hadn’t made it yet. Still, she allowed herself a fleeting thought of comfort as they neared the edge of the open expanse — unseen, hidden, with Ben’s presence still close, a tether she didn’t want to sever.

They instinctively huddled together in the darkness, their eyes adjusting to the low light, scanning the perimeter.

Ben’s hand rose, a silent signal, and the group fell into complete stillness, every breath held. They listened intently. The low rumble of snowmobiles grew louder, then quieter again as the vehicles moved past. Ben held up three fingers — three snowmobiles — before switching to a second count, two fingers now, indicating foot patrols, their presence marked by the sounds of barking dogs.

Rey’s heart thundered in her chest, the weight of what they were about to do pressing on her, unbearable yet inevitable. This was it. The riskiest part of their escape. There could be no hesitation. No room for error.

Her mind longed for reassurance, a final moment with Ben to ensure they would survive this, but before she could even dwell on it, he was already signaling for them to move forward, having noted a brief gap in the exterior defenses.

Ben’s command was absolute. Without a word, they sprang into motion. The cold, snowy landscape blurred as they ran, feet barely making a sound against the thick layer of snow. Ahead, the fence loomed — tall, sharp, and now their greatest obstacle.

Jannah and Bazine moved first, their compact bodies launching effortlessly into the air, clearing the fence with ease, their landings soft as whispers. But when Mitaka went next, Rey’s breath caught in her throat. He made it over, but his gown caught at the top, creating a soft rattle that shattered the stillness.

Then came the dogs. The unmistakable, sharp bark cut through the night, followed by the urgent shout of a guard from the closest tower. “Halt immediately! We will open fire!”

The German shepherds' growls seemed to ripple through the air, sending an icy wave of additional adrenalin into Rey’s veins.

The group froze for a second—just long enough for Ben’s voice to slice through the fear. “Don’t stop!”

While many of the remaining children dropped to the ground at the guard's commands, abandoning the escape attempt, Rey's mind only processed Ben's order. She moved, her legs pumping, pushing her forward, faster than ever. She could hear Ben’s urgent voice behind her, the crack of gunfire in the distance.

“Jump!” Ben commanded, and without hesitation, they leaped in perfect sync, their bodies soaring toward the fence. The sound of bullets whistling above them made her heart race, but there was no time to fear. They hit the snow, rolling into the cold night, their feet already pushing forward before they even had a chance to breathe.

Rey hit the ground with a soft roll, her breath catching in her chest, half in disbelief that they made it. But there was no time for relief. Ben’s grip found hers again, pulling her up, urging her forward as the sound of the snowmobiles’ engines veered toward them.

“Move out!” Ben’s voice was urgent, commanding. He was still pushing them forward, still keeping them alive.

Behind them, two others, those who hadn’t been caught yet, landed and scrambled to catch up. The guards were closer now, too close.

Rey's ears pricked at the sound of a familiar voice sending commands over the guard's walkies. "If they've made it past the perimeter, shoot to kill." Colonel Snoke declared.

The harsh crack of gunfire rang out again, echoing off the trees. The sound of falling bodies behind them, sharp and final. The distant, muffled cries of their fallen brothers and sisters became a haunting background to their flight.

But Rey couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t stop. She pushed ahead, heart pounding, chest tight, focused only on the next step, on keeping herself and Ben alive.

The three ahead had already melted into the shadows of the forest, vanishing like ghosts in the dark. Rey pressed on, her breath shallow and ragged, desperate to keep up. Ben was still with her — he had to be. Every step felt like it brought them closer to freedom, but something was wrong. Her instincts screamed at her, but she couldn’t quite place it.

She didn’t hear it at first, but then she felt it — a shift in the rhythm of their footsteps. Ben’s footfalls faltered, and Rey’s heart lurched. She whipped around, panic rising in her chest, only to find him kneeling in the snow, hunched over, his breath ragged, his body trembling with the effort to stay upright.

“Ben?” Her voice was thick with fear as she rushed to his side, kneeling beside him, her hands grabbing at his shoulders. “Ben, get up, please!”

But he didn’t move. He couldn’t move. His hands were pressed around his center, as if holding himself together. Rey’s breath hitched as her eyes finally dropped to the trail beneath him. Blood. Dark, bright blood soaked into the cloth beneath his hands.

“Ben…” she whispered, her voice barely a breath, the weight of it crashing down on her.

His chest heaved as he tried to speak, but his words came out as little more than a wet cough. He leaned back, his eyes hollow, his skin pale in the dim light, and his lips twisted into a faint, painful grimace. Blood pooled at the corner of his mouth.

A bullet. To the chest.

Rey’s mind reeled. She couldn’t comprehend it. She couldn’t make sense of it. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not Ben.

His voice, though weak, still carried the command she had come to follow without question. “X5-452… your team needs you. Fall out.”

His tone was harsh, demanding, and though she wanted to scream, to plead with him, she felt the cold weight of his order sink into her. His command — his final command. He was telling her to leave him. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

But as she stared at him — at his face, pale and slack with pain — she knew there was no time. No time to cry. No time to argue.

The sound of snowmobiles was growing closer.

“Jannah, Bazine, Mitaka... They need you, Rey.” He said his body slowly slouching the side. His voice was quieter now, the gurgling sound of it barely audible as his eyes fluttered shut.

Her breath hitched as she joined him in the cold snow. She wanted to protest, to say something, but her tongue seemed frozen as he slipped further away, slipping into the darkness of unconsciousness.

Tears blurred her vision, but Rey wiped them away, refusing to let herself break. Not here. Not now.

She dragged her hand over Ben’s face, memorizing every line, every contour, before she stood. Her legs felt weak, but her resolve was ironclad.

"Understood, X5-599." She finally responded even though it was clear that Ben had already slipped away. Her panicked mind was fighting to detach itself from the unbearable pain of the moment.

Without another word, she honoured his final command. She turned and bolted toward the river ahead, the cold current waiting to carry her away from the only life she had ever known.

And as she leapt into the icy waters, her heart shattered, but she knew she couldn’t stop. Not now. Ben’s sacrifice had to mean something. She would survive. They all had to survive. For him.

Chapter Text

Rey storms through the door of her scumbag PI’s office with more force than she intended. The old hinges scream in protest as the door crashes open, rattling the dingy frame. The man, mid-bite into a greasy container of takeout, freezes, his food toppling into his lap in a messy heap.

“Christ! Ever heard of knocking?” he snarls, scrambling to wipe his hands on his pants in a futile attempt to save them from the spill.

Rey fixes him with a cold, unblinking stare. Without breaking stride, she maneuvers her bike through the cramped, cluttered space. “You better have something for me.”

“Got a bad attitude, you know that, kid?” he grumbles, waddling over to a battered filing cabinet.

Rey doesn’t flinch. “That’s ‘client’ to you. As in the one who pays for you to keep this sorry excuse for a business from falling apart.” Her voice sharpens, laced with an edge that makes it clear she’s not here for his games.

The squat man chuckles, a low, throaty sound, as he wipes his forehead with a rag he pulls from his pocket. His gaze barely flickers in her direction. “There’s that fire,” he mutters, a twisted grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Rey rolls her eyes, but her stance doesn’t waver. “So?” she presses, not interested in messy about today.

He smirks, a smug gleam in his eyes, before reaching into his drawer and pulling out a file. “You’re in luck, Miss Niima.” He waves it like a prize, clearly savoring the moment.

Her pulse quickens, Vogle must see it in the way stance tightens, her eyes widening with hope. Before she can mask it, he speaks. “Finally got a lead from my contacts in Portland.”

Rey snatches the file from his grubby fingers, her eyes hungrily scanning the contents. The first page contains various photos of identifying marks. Her breath catches when she spots a somewhat familiar sight. The photo that immediately catches her attention is of a gruesome burn scar running across the back of a slender neck, but its not the rippled skin that catches her attention but the sliver of a barcode still slightly visible underneath. X5-656.

Her fingers tremble slightly as she flips to the next page, and her breath hitches in her throat at the next photo. It’s Jannah. Older than the last time Rey saw her, but unmistakably her. The image is unsettling; Jannah’s face is slack, her eyes closed in an eerie stillness. Rey’s heart pounds in her chest, the blood rushing in her ears. It’s an old photo.

A surge of panic grips her insides, but before she can spiral, Mr. Vogle’s voice slices through the rising dread. “According to my contact, she was brought in unconscious, feverish an comatose. They said she had a nasty stab wound, almost went septic.” He pauses, a twisted chuckle escaping him. “The real kicker? They were shocked at how fast she recovered. The day after that photo was taken, she was up and out of there, like a bat out of hell.”

Jannah made it out… Another one of them made it out. The realization hits Rey like a punch to the gut. She hadn’t had any confirmation until now. They’d all been split up in the chaos of the escape, and for all Rey knew, she might have been the only one who’d made it out. Failed Ben’s last order.

Her eyes devour the details on the two pages, but there’s little to go on. A hospital intake record. “This… this is an old photo.” The words slip out in a disbelieving whisper, but as she turns toward the PI, her voice hardens. Steel replaces the doubt in her chest. “Where is she? What happened to her?”

The documents say Jannah was stabbed. A wound so bad, it nearly killed her. And Rey? She wasn’t there. Not to protect her. Not to have her back.

Vogle shifts, the old chair creaking beneath his weight as he lazily slumps back into it, indifferent. “I’m working on it. Give me a week or so.” He picks up his takeout with a nonchalant shrug, barely sparing her a glance. “I’ve got a friend of a friend who works sector points out there. If she stuck around, he’ll recognize her face. Of course, this friend will want a little something for his troubles...”

Rey’s jaw clenches, her fingers curling tight around the file as if it might suddenly disappear from her hands. She’s already moving toward the door before he can finish, warring with the seed of hope taking root in her chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Most of the time, Rey’s life feels like a cruel joke — an endless cycle of brief glimmers of hope followed by the harsh slap of reality. She’s only allowed to bask in the news of Jannah’s survival for a few days before another cold dose of her existence drags her under. Well, not cold, exactly.

She knows it’s going to be a rough week when she starts to break a sweat while delivering packages. Normally, it would take extreme exertion — at least an hour of uninterrupted sprinting — for her to start perspiring. But today, she's just pedaling casually down the level streets of Sector 4, and her skin is flushed, sweat slicking down her spine.

There’s only one reason for this, and it’s certainly not the mild weather.

A few years after her escape from the First Order Institute, Rey finally thought she understood all the ways she was different from ordinary people. But there was something else — something more embarrassing — that had been lying dormant.

Gradually, Rey began to experience periods of rising physical... agitation — a pulse of something raw, primal, and unsettling. A hunger that wasn’t quite hunger. A sexual agitation she had been horrified to learn.

And as she watched the civilians around her, she realized they didn’t feel like this. They didn’t experience the sharpness, the need that churned inside her. Sure, they could be hedonistic and lustful, but for Rey, it was something else entirely. Something more uncontrollable.

As she makes her way to her final delivery of the day, she tries to push the subtle growing feeling aside, but they linger, gnawing at the edges of her focus. She has a job for Maz this week, one she can’t afford to put off if she’s going to keep paying Mr. Vogle. She’ll have to move up her plans, if she doesn't want to slow down the search for her lost sister.

If she doesn’t do it tonight, she knows, it’ll have to wait until next week. And she's not willing to wait a moment longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Armitage Hux is alone in their apartment when Rey returns to grab her equipment and change into something more covert.

She pauses at the door, her eyes landing on him sitting stiffly on their old couch. His face is pinched, like he’s been chewing on something sour. Great, she thinks. This is going to be a fun encounter.

"Where’s Rose?" she asks flatly, barely looking at him as she steps inside. It’s not that Hux has ever done anything to her or her friends — he’s just… unapproachable. Aloof. He barely acknowledges anyone except Rose.

"So good to see you too, Rey," Hux practically sneers, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He doesn't even bother to look up as she kicks off her shoes. "I’m doing very well today, thank you for asking." He gestures vaguely with his hand. "Rose is out checking on your neighbor’s kids while they’re still at work."

Kriff, this one is going to be a bad one. Her muscles already feel looser, shakier, and somehow Hux's usual grimace is seeming very endearing... how has she never noticed how tall he is, how well his tailored pants fit his thighs perfectly?

She shakes her head, trying to rid herself of the thought. No. No, don’t go there.

A shaky breath escapes her lips as she rushes to the kitchen sink, splashing cold water on her flushed face, desperately trying to clear the fog in her mind. She should definitely not get so fired up looking at her friend’s boyfriend.

Hux is on his feet in a flash, his eyes wide with alarm as he looks at her with a calculative glint to his eyes. "Are you ill?" he exclaims, his voice almost panicked. "Christ, keep yourself over there, please!"

Rey’s mind latches onto the idea. It’s important that she keeps her distance from any male company this week. She can’t risk embarrassing herself or raising any unnecessary questions. “Y-Yeah, I think I picked up something from work,” she says quickly, hoping the lie sounds convincing enough. She tries to look as pitiful as possible, giving Hux a pleading look. “Nasty stomach bug, I think. Do you think Rose could stay at yours for the next few days? I don’t want to get her sick.”

Hux’s face twists into something like disgust as he starts to rush toward the door. "Say less." he mutters, grabbing his jacket and shoes in one swift motion. "I’ll notify Rose of the ‘forced quarantine.’ Perhaps you could make yourself scarce for an hour or so, so she may grab some things?"

"Yeah, that works," Rey replies quickly, a sense of relief flooding her. "I’ll head out soon to grab some herbal remedies."

Just as Hux is about to slam the door closed, he pauses, his hand lingering on the knob. "Oh, and some man dropped by earlier, looking for you. Practically let himself in," he huffs, irritation leaking into his tone. "I told him you weren’t home, that he’d have to come back later."

Rey’s heart skips a beat, and her mind races with the possibilities. There aren’t many people who’d just show up like that. "Who was he?" she asks, trying to keep her voice steady.

Hux shrugs, looking more annoyed than concerned. "I don’t know. Some towering oaf. I didn’t catch his name as I’m not your personal assistant."

With that, he slams the door behind him, the sound sharp and final.

The unknown visitor would have to be a problem for later, Rey needs to act quickly before she is completely useless.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The shipment of blank sector passes is locked away under tight security at one of the Sector Control offices in Sector 5. It would have been easier to hit it up under the cover of darkness, but Rey’s rapidly changing body is betraying her, each minute dragging her closer to a breaking point she’s not sure she can outrun.

This has to be the worst it’s ever been, she thinks, her breath ragged as she shakily lowers herself into the small storeroom from the ceiling ventilation shaft. The cool, stagnant air prickles her hot skin, but that’s the least of her problems. Her senses are dulled, her muscles sluggish, every movement more laborious than it should be.

Still, the image of Jannah, pale and broken in that hospital bed, is burned into the back of Rey’s mind. That image — and the need to get one step closer to the truth — pushes her forward, makes her fight against the growing tide of weakness in her limbs.

The storeroom is small and dark, boxes stacked high against the walls in neat rows. It should be easy to find what she’s looking for, but Rey’s mind keeps drifting, a distracting fog settling over her thoughts. Maz’s interest in the passes is still unclear, but Rey can imagine that with the right connections — and the right activations — these could be priceless.

Her fingers brush over the cold, smooth surfaces of the boxes as she searches, but her mind drifts back to earlier to her strange interaction with Hux. The mystery man he’d mentioned. Who the hell could it have been? It could be Snap. He’s been making his interest clear at work, despite Rey’s disinterest. But… there’s something about him, some undeniable physical pull. Burly, Rey thinks as she licks her lips, the word unbidden in her mind. What if he comes by her apartment again tonight? Deep down she knows mind is being corrupted, that she is no longer thinking clearly.

Despite her recognition, the thoughts gnaw at her, unwanted but persistent. She tries to shake them off, but they only intensify, running in circles, each one fueling the next. Focus. Just focus on the mission.

Her hands are trembling now, but she finally spots the box she’s been searching for — hidden beneath a stack of similar-looking ones. She grabs it, her breath coming faster, heart pounding. But the moment she stands up, everything goes wrong. Her head spins with heat, dizziness crashing over her like a wave.

She stumbles, her vision blurring as she crashes into the shelving unit beside her. The impact sends the whole stack of boxes toppling to the floor. A loud clatter echoes down the hallway, followed by the unmistakable sound of shouting.

Panic surges through Rey’s chest. She’s off-balance, her body feeling like lead, her reflexes sluggish and delayed. She scrambles, trying to steady herself, but the dizziness doesn’t let up. By the time an armed guard bursts through the door, she’s already pushing herself into the air, reaching for the ventilation shaft.

But she’s too slow. The guard is faster, his hands snaking around her hips just as she makes her move. Rey struggles against his grip, heart pounding in her ears, adrenaline rushing through her veins. She throws her head back, her skull connecting with his face with a sickening crack. His grip immediately loosens, and she uses the moment of surprise to free herself.

Her breath is ragged, her body weaker than usual, but Rey’s mind is laser-focused now. She can still get out of this. The thought is a steady rhythm in her head, even as her senses lag and the world around her feels heavy, distorted.

As four other guards storm into the room, charging at her, Rey’s body reacts faster than her mind can keep up. She doesn’t hesitate. In one fluid motion, she slams her shoulder into the first man, using his momentum to send him crashing bodily across the room. His back slams into another guard, the two of them tumbling to the ground in a heap of limbs and confusion.

Rey’s eyes are already locked onto the next two guards, who are still fumbling to draw their weapons. The advantage is hers. They don’t even have time to react before she’s on them, her movements swift and precise.

With a twist of her body, she sends one guard stumbling backwards into a row of crates, the impact leaving him dazed. The other barely has time to raise his weapon before Rey grabs his wrist in a vice grip, twisting it with brutal efficiency until the weapon slips from his hand and clatters to the floor. Her knee drives into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

She is just about to lunge for the exit door when a sharp pinch snags on her shoulder followed by a jolt of electricity - a taser her mind supplies. She doesn't even let herself react as she continues her movements towards the door.

But while the power of one taser is not near enough to subdue her, she staggers at the bite of tines of a second taser as they sink into her other side. She still... before she knows it, she is at the ends of all at least four tasers, all burrowed underneath her skin. Its enough electricity to take down a fully grown bear, and just enough to take her down too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A persistent throbbing in her groin is the first thing Rey feels as she starts to regain consciousness. Her head is heavy, and her surroundings are a blur. She’s slouched over on a hard, unforgiving wooden bench, her hot cheeks flush against the cool surface.

As the world slowly comes into focus, her eyes narrow, trying to make sense of the dimly lit room. Her vision sharpens, and that’s when she notices — bars. Her stomach churns with dread.

That’s not good.

She tries to move, to sit up and better assess her surroundings, but her wrists are bound behind her, held fast in cuffs. She can't help but snort, half-amused, half-frustrated. Even in this state, this sort of thing is child's play.

In one fluid motion, Rey dislocates her thumb. The sharp pain flares, but it’s nothing compared to the adrenaline coursing through her. She slides her hand free, her thumb snapping back into place with barely a wince — another lesson from her past. They taught X5 children this before they even started losing baby teeth.

With her arms now free, Rey pushes herself up with shaking arms, ready to face whatever’s coming next.

A low whistle cuts through the silence.

“Color me impressed.”

The deep, amused voice catches her off guard. She freezes slightly as she looks across the small holding cell. A large, middle-aged man is staring at her with a mix of open amusement and surprise. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he’s leaned back slightly against the wall, the faintest glint of admiration in his eyes.

“One minute, you’re out like a light, and the next, you’re slipping your cuffs. I’ve got to hand it to you,” he says, his voice deep and smooth.

Rey’s mind feels sluggish, but she manages to get her bearings. As her eyes drift over him, her thoughts stumble. He’s a big man, broad-shouldered, with a kind, open face and strong, handsome features. His cheekbones are sharp, his smile warm. Damn, he’s… She blinks rapidly, trying to clear the fog in her head. “I—uh... Just something I picked up. Comes in handy. Where are we?”

“Handy indeed!” The man chuckles, the sound causing a ripple of heat to rush through her body, intensifying the discomfort already throbbing between her legs.

But he continues, oblivious to the effects his voice is having. “Sorry to break this to you, kid, but we’re in Langford Lock-up.”

Rey’s stomach drops. This is very, very bad. She takes a slow breath, trying to hold it together. There's no doubt she could break out of here once she's back to full strength, but it's going to take days, and there are a lot of people here... a lot of men. It'll also be cutting close with the Tryptophan, she could be in full blown seizures by that point.

But those things only secondary to her primary concern... the paper trail she'd leave behind — description, photos, fingerprints — will all be entered into the system. A trail that will lead The First Order straight to her. The thought sends a sharp wave of frustration through her, tears threatening to well in her eyes. She'll have to leave Seattle. There’s no other choice. It’ll never be safe here again.

Her mind is spiraling, lost in the consequences, when a warm, heavy pressure settles on her shoulders. She stiffens, startled, but the man’s large arm wraps around her in a comforting gesture. He’s trying to offer some kind of support, but the weight of his touch has the opposite effect — his proximity is far too overwhelming.

Rey jolts slightly, but the man doesn’t seem to notice. His massive frame is so close, his scent oddly comforting — woodsmoke, a bit of cologne, very masculine — it feels like she has no control as she leans into his warmth, despite every instinct screaming at her to pull away.

“There, there, kid,” he says, his voice thick with sympathy. “They’ve thrown me in here a couple of times. You’ll be outta here in no time.”

She can feel the warmth of his chest against her cheek, and despite herself, Rey leans in a little further, her head swimming with a mix of excitement and something else — something she doesn’t want to acknowledge. His heartbeat beneath her ear is steady and calming. This feels… too good.

A small part of her tells her to pull away, that it’s a dangerous situation, that she has more important things to be focused on. But another part of her is lost in the comfort, an itch she has never allowed herself to scratch.

“Besides,” he murmurs, a smile tugging at his lips, “how much trouble could you have gotten yourself into?”

Rey doesn’t trust herself to speak, her throat tight, but the warmth, the pressure of his body against hers—she can’t deny it makes her head spin.

His brow scrunches with confusion as his cool hand comes up to cup her forehead. "Damn, kid you are burning up. Are you feeling ok?" He asks.

She moans embarrassingly at the sensation of his touch as she looks up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. She needs to have more of herself touching him. In a flash that seems to shock this kind man, Rey is practically straddling his lap. She makes an embarrassing pleased noise as her front presses against his wide chest. "Please..." She hisses.

"Woah, there killer!" He is awkwardly trying to grab her by the shoulders apply enough pressure to send her back so there is a bit of space between them. "You are a gorgeous young woman, and I am immensely flattered don't get me wrong... but uh... I'm batting for the other team, if you catch my drift."

His cheeks are now as flushed as she imagines hers to be, but despite his words she still can't help but start rubbing her face on his shoulder. Shame the farthest thing from her mind.

"Sorry, sorry" She is pathetically whimpering out. "Feels good."

His look of alarm quickly melts away into something akin to understanding. "Ah." He says with a snicker. "Did you take something, huh?" He is almost full blown laughing looking at her pathetic looking expression now. "God I miss being young. I've been there sweetheart. Just gotta be careful what your experimenting with. I daresay this is a terrible placing to be rolling on whatever you took, eh?"

"Y-Yea, guess so." She manages to get out, as she battles with her bodies reactions. He must think she is high on some sort of drug that is making her act this way. She only wishes it was that simple.

"Hey, break it up, you two!" A sharp shout from behind the bars snaps them both back to reality. The sound of footsteps echoes as a lanky officer steps into the cell, his face cold and detached. "Get up, skank. Time to get you through processing."

As Rey stands on somewhat shaky legs, she catches the eyes of this unexpectantly kind stranger, his gaze is full of quiet concern, his face softening at the desperation that must be written all over hers.

"Hang in there, just a little longer," he murmurs low enough for only her to hear. "I’ll be on the other side soon enough." His voice is warm, almost reassuring, and he offers her a wink, as if trying to lighten the moment. "Cade’s the name, by the way."

"Kira..." she whispers, her voice rough, the lie rolls of her tongue. She feels a twinge of guilt, but she can't risk her real name being known — not here. It’s the only thing left she can protect.

The officer snaps at them both, his tone condescending. "Hurry it up, I haven’t got all day."

Rey’s heart is lodged in her throat as the officer roughly pushes her through the motions of fingerprinting and mugshots. His grip is unnecessarily harsh, especially after he notices she’s somehow managed to slip one of the cuffs off. But she barely registers the pain or the cold metal digging into her wrists once more.

When they finally arrive at a desk, she's plopped down without ceremony, her legs unsteady beneath her. The officer takes a seat across from her, his expression one of practiced indifference as his fingers fly across the keyboard. The hum of the computer screen feels distant to her as her thoughts swirl.

After a moment of typing, the officer glances up at her, his expression flat but his brows raised in a silent challenge. He looks between her and the phone in the corner of his desk, clearly unimpressed with her presence.

"Well, are you gonna make your phone call or not?" His voice is dry, his eyes narrowed.

"Yes." Her voice comes out sharper than she intended, as her hands shoot forward to grab the receiver, the sudden action startling even her. The officer barely seems to care, and she’s already dialing. Desperate times, desperate measures, she tells herself, as her fingers move to dial a number she never imagined she’d need to call.

The phone rings… and rings. Her mind races as the seconds stretch into eternity. She’s just about to lose hope when finally, a cool voice answers, cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Armitage Hux," he says, his tone clipped, devoid of any humor or recognition.

Rey inhales sharply, trying to steady her breath as she leans into the phone, her voice barely above a whisper but edged with desperation. "Hey, Hux, it’s me, your girlfriend's roomie. I, uh... well, I’m in a bit of a bind."

She has no idea if he’ll be able to come through, but she has to believe that he’s as well-connected as Rose hinted.

"Yes, I figured as much when I was prompted to accept a collect call from Langford Correctional." Hux’s voice dripped with its usual sarcasm, his tone sharp and unamused. In the background, Rey could hear Rose's frantic questions — worried and impatient.

"Rose has been in a real state since you didn’t return from your ‘short’ excursion to get medicinal herbs. One can only wonder how you've managed to end up behind bars on such-"

Rey, fighting waves of dizzying discomfort and pressure, couldn’t help but roll her eyes as Hux's speech is summarily cut off. The sound of muffled voices swirled in the background — Hux and Rose, and someone else. The third voice was unfamiliar, faint, deep, but definitely there.

"Hello? Hux? Rose?" she asks, her head swimming with another wave of dizziness, feeling the room spin slightly.

It’s Rose who responds this time, the voice sharp but laced with urgency. "Rey, we're coming—" Her words are abruptly cut off as the line clicks, followed by a faint, harsh beep.

The officer's voice slices through the air like a blade, cold and unforgiving. "Time’s up." His tone leaves no room for argument.

With a swift movement, he crosses the desk and grabs hold of her arms, pulling her up from the chair. Rey resists the instinct to push back against him, the urge to rub against him almost overwhelming.

Chapter Text

By the time Rey is led to the open cell block, she is practically panting, each step taking her deeper into this grim hell-hole. The air is thick with the scent of sweat, metal, and something sour — desperation, maybe. The mixture of different inmates scattered across the block reveals a harsh truth, that this place doesn’t care about gender segregation.

She forces her mind to stay focused as her eyes scan the scene. Her muscles still fight to cooperate, but a slight ease comes when she spots Cade up ahead. She hopes he can offer her the distraction she desperately needs.

Rey has never actually had sex and she is not looking to do so now in the middle of enemy territory with her life in shambles, but the throbbing ache in her groin is only growing more persistent. Wetness pooling at the center of the tactical pants she's wearing. She imagines even trying to touch herself for some relief will invite untold trouble in this place.

Cade's eyes soften when he sees her, the corner of his lips pulling into a sympathetic, almost knowing smile. “Yeah, looks like you’re still in the thick of it. Come on, let’s find a place to lie low and keep you from starting a prison riot.”

His voice is low and warm, like a lifeline thrown into turbulent waters. Rey can’t help but breathe a little easier as he gestures for her to follow.

Training kicks in then, sharpening her thoughts. In situations like this — when a tactical retreat is either impossible or too dangerous — Rey’s instincts scream for her to make allies, to secure whatever leverage she can. Anything to get through this in one piece.

Thankfully, Cade doesn’t seem like he’ll ask for much in return. The only motive she can read from him is simple — he likes her. And that, oddly enough, feels like the best deal she’s had in weeks. The other inmates give them space as they move toward an empty cell, its walls cracked and peeling. Inside, two worn bunks sit against opposite walls, the thin mattresses barely more than fabric stretched over wood. It's not much, but it’s a small refuge, and right now, that’s all Rey can hope for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rey couldn’t tell if it had been minutes or hours since she’d collapsed onto the cot. Time felt distorted, slipping like water through her fingers, each second stretching, warping as her mind and body fought for control.

She clenched her fists at her sides, her muscles rigid, as if holding onto the fragile thread of meditation could pull her out of the feverish haze that had taken over her. Her eyes were squeezed shut, breath shallow, trying to force her mind into stillness. Sweat drenched her skin, her heartbeat a rapid drum in her chest, and yet, despite all her effort, she couldn’t still the writhing ache deep in her core. Her legs were crossed tightly, as if physically binding herself might keep her from losing control.

"What the mind can conceive, the body CAN achieve." The voice of Colonel Snoke echoed in her head, unbidden and sharp, like a dagger aimed at her already fragile composure. Her face twisted slightly at the intrusion, the familiar words dredging up an old, gnawing anxiety. His voice had once been a constant during endless hours of training. A voice that still haunted her, reminding her of the things she had been forced to endure, even when she was too young to understand.

With time and persistence, his words became a reality back then. They had endured endless hours of brutal training — torture, starvation, isolation — until their bodies could withstand agony without flinching. It had been drilled into them, over and over, to shut out everything and endure. And yet, here she was, trembling on this cot, unable to calm the upheaval inside her. Had the outside world really softened her this much?

A wave of dark oily self-hatred washed over her as she ruminated on her weaknesses. She was a deficient model after all. Weak. Corrupted. Useless.

The sting of it burned in her chest, the bitterness suffocating her thoughts.

Amid the buzzing din of the prison’s ambient noise, the shuffle of feet, muffled voices outside the cell, there was something that cut through it all. Heavy, purposeful footfalls. The sound drew closer, each step echoing louder, its rhythm pulling at her focus, wrenching her attention away from her fragile state.

Her eyes remained shut, unwilling to break the fragile concentration she had fought so hard to hold onto, but there was something about the cadence of these footsteps that was breaking through her concentration.

As the heavy footfalls reached the entrance of their cell, Rey’s heartbeat quickened, and she forced her senses to sharpen. Her eyes remained stubbornly closed, her body stiff, as if pretending to be elsewhere might help her avoid whatever was coming.

“On your feet, inmate. Time to go.” The voice that sliced through the air was deep and distorted, like a cold wave crashing over her skin, sending a chill down her spine.

“What the…” Cade’s voice cracked with alarm beside her, pulling her further out of her disassociated state.

Rey’s mind snapped into action in an instant, processing everything at once. Her eyes flew open, and she was out of the cot in a single, jolted motion. A tall, dark figure filled the doorway, flanked by a group of prison guards. The taller figure was the most alarming, a hulking presence in black military tactical gear from head to toe. His face was obscured by a full-face helmet, the reflective eye protection mirroring her own wide-eyed, slack expression back at her.

They’ve found me. The thought struck her like a lightning bolt.

This was it. This was the end. She had failed her mission, again and again. Now, there was no one left to disappoint but herself.

For a brief moment, a sense of resignation washed over her. Perhaps liquidation was the only fitting end. Her capture the last mistake in a series of endless failures.

But even as her mind spiraled into dark thoughts, a stubborn part of her rebelled. She couldn't just lie down and accept it. Not without a fight.

She lunged into action, her instincts taking over. Her body moved before she could fully think, a swift kick aimed at the officer’s knee. But the tall figure blocked it effortlessly, as if he had already predicted it. Without a moment's pause, her elbow swung toward his side, but again, he parried it with casual ease. His movements were fluid, precise, and she felt a bitter wave of realization wash over her. He’s very well trained in close combat.

It was like he was reading her every move.

The dark figure raised his hand, signaling the shouting guards behind him to stay back. Rey quickly dropped back into a defensive stance, her body tense with the need to strike, but her mind racing to figure out her next move.

But before she could react, his movements blurred. In a blink, she felt a sharp, searing pain in her thigh. She barely registered the tranquilizer dart before the pain exploded through her leg, and a startled yelp escaped her lips.

Her gaze locked with his, disbelief filling her thoughts as the world began to tilt.

“You—, you're a-” Her words slurred as her body faltered, her knees buckling. She tried to catch herself, but the dizziness hit her like a tidal wave, and before she knew it, she was sinking toward Cade, her head nearly landing in his lap.

Cade, to her surprise, looked more stunned than she was, his wide eyes locked on her as if he couldn't believe what was happening.

Her vision blurred, and she struggled to focus on the soldier, who was now addressing the guards with calm authority.

“Clear the way. We need to get the inmate to transport as quickly as possible, she is known to be violent and unpredictable.”

Rey’s mind raced, trying to make sense of it all, but the words were becoming harder to form, the world slipping away. There was no mistaking it now — this man was a transgenic soldier, too. She could see it in his movements, in the precision of his every action. All far too fast and precise to be a normal soldier.

Perhaps an X6 series. The thought flickered in her dizzy mind, barely coherent. Perhaps they finally worked out all the kinks she thinks as the world fades to black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rey stirs slowly, the cool press of a cloth across her forehead pulling her back into consciousness. It feels good — but something about it isn’t right. She can feel the dull thrum of her pulse, the sluggishness of her body fighting against the remnants of the sedative that still clings to her.

Her face must betray her, because she hears a low, contented hum beside her.

"Right now, your brain is fighting to shake off the effects of the sedative," a deep voice murmurs, quiet but steady, almost reverent. "Your senses are scrambling, cataloging everything but trying not to give anything away to your captors. You always were a good soldier, X5-452."

Her heartbeat stutters, a familiar, unsettling feeling flooding her chest. That voice. It’s impossible.

She doesn’t dare open her eyes. To do so would mean facing a cruel reality. But when warm fingers brush gently across her cheek, a soft touch that is too tender, too intimate to ignore, her eyelids fly open.

And then, everything stops.

Inches from her, his face hovers in the dim light. His features — the long line of his nose, plush stern lips, the tight way he holds his jaw, the dark eyes staring into hers. All achingly, painfully familiar.

It’s his face. Ben’s face. Or at least, how she always imagined he would look had he been allowed to grow up, to become a man.

Her breath catches in her throat, and before she can stop herself, a guttural, anguished noise escapes her mouth. Her entire body seizes with panic. She scrambles back, trying to retreat from the apparition before her, her hands pressing against the bed, but her limbs feel like lead, slow to respond.

It can’t be him. It can’t.

Her mind is screaming, fighting the overwhelming surge of grief and confusion. She tries to steady herself, her thoughts tumbling over each other like crashing waves, but his eyes — those nearly black irises track her every movement, calm and unwavering.

"No," she rasps, her voice cracking with raw emotion. "You’re not him."

Her chest tightens with anger, frustration, and denial. The pieces fall into place in a flash: They cloned him. Of course. He was the best of them, after all. The ultimate soldier, perfected. And now — now they’ve sent him to dole out a cosmic justice. She is too overwhelmed to appreciate the symmetry.

Her stomach churns with a nauseating mix of anger and regret. She doesn't want to face him. She doesn't want to look at the manifestation of her greatest mistake. The very thing that reminds her of everything she’s lost.

With a growl of fury, she pulls her legs up, aiming a swift, powerful kick at his chest, her body still heavy with the lingering effects of the tranquilizer. The blow connects, but it has little impact on him. He barely flinches.

The soldier — a massive presence, his frame twice the size of hers, his training leagues ahead of hers — allows the strike, then reacts with a terrifying speed. Before she can even comprehend what’s happening, he’s grabbing her, his strength overwhelming. One hand yanks her roughly toward the edge of the bed, and in an instant, he’s looming over her, his body pressing down with intimidating weight. His large hands pin her wrists above her head with effortless ease.

Rey’s breath hitches as the sensation of his warm, solid body against hers ignites something deep in her gut. She struggles, but it feels like she’s fighting against a mountain, her movements useless.

"It's me, Rey." The words come low and soft, his warm breath washing over her face. The sound of her name coming from him mouth like twisting like a knife in the gut.

She flinches, her body instinctively recoiling at the words coming out of his mouth, even though she knows it can’t be him. It can’t be.

She fights back, her anger surging, fueling her movements as she glares up at him. “Don’t you dare!” Her voice is sharp with fury. “If you’re going to kill me, just do it already. Don’t play mind games with me, Soldier. I know you are not him, you are just a cruel imitation.”

For a moment, his eyes flicker, darting across her face like he’s reading her, sizing up her reaction. He seems to pause, as though considering something. And then, with unnerving precision, he speaks.

“You think I’m a clone?” The words come out in a low, amused tone, but there’s a glint of something else in his eyes — something playful, but calculating.

She only thrashes harder, her limbs desperate but ineffective. Trying to move him is like trying to shift a bulldozer. Her breath comes in short gasps as her frustration grows, but no matter how she struggles, he doesn’t budge an inch.

“How can I convince you?” The man muses, his voice almost affectionate as he watches her futile struggle. His eyes soften, and there’s an odd tenderness in the way he looks down at her. "I suppose I’ll have to tell you something only I would know..."

Rey is losing steam fast, and the press of his body is quickly effecting her more than she wants to admit in her state. The muscled thigh pressed in between her legs taking on a new appeal in all the thrashing, but the soldier thankfully hasn't seem to take notice yet.

"You used to have these nightmares," he says, his voice low and soft as he shifts to grip both of her wrists with one hand, freeing his other to gently run his fingers through her tangled hair. The touch is unexpectedly tender. "So convinced that you'd be fed to the anomalies in the basement." His voice drops to a whisper, as though sharing the most intimate secret.

Rey’s chest tightens. The memories flood her all at once — terrifying visions of strange mutated being, failed prototypes that lived beneath the Institute. She feels a tremor run through her lip, a crack in the wall of denial she’s built.

He continues, his hand brushing through her hair with a tenderness she can’t ignore. "You’d sneak over to my cot and hide under my blankets. You knew I’d never let anything happen to you."

The warmth of his touch has her breath catching in her throat. She hadn’t realized she was crying until his fingers brush away the tears that have leaked down her flushed cheeks. But still, she clings to her denial, even as the memories he’s sharing wound around her heart like a vice. It’s impossible. It’s not him.

Her pulse is erratic, her thoughts jumbled, but she can’t pull away from him. She doesn't want to. But this — this is too much.

After a moment, his voice is softer, as if he’s speaking to a fragile thing in his arms. "When you lost your first tooth, you gave it to me. Like it was some precious pearl. You put so much faith in me, Rey."

The words are like a blow to the chest. She chokes, her breath halting as the weight of them sinks into her, drowning her. She can't breathe, can't focus. Her vision is clouded with the haze of tears she can no longer contain. She gasps for air, her body shaking violently as the flood of emotions overcomes her. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real.

Her voice cracks, barely a whisper through the sobs, "B-Ben?"

"It's me," he responds, his voice quiet but laced with a pleading tone, as if hoping she will finally see the truth in him. The truth he’s giving her, no matter how much it shatters everything she thought she knew.

Her body is trembling, her mind a whirlwind of disbelief. "How? I—I don’t understand," she chokes out, her whole frame shaking under the weight of his words and the crushing realization that she might be facing the impossible.

"They revived me that night, brought me back to recover." Ben tells her, his grip starting to loosen now that he knows his words are getting through to her. "It was much harder the second time, but I broke out again after several months in recovery and reprogramming."

Her hands — finally, blessedly — wriggle free of his weakened grip. With an almost frantic urgency, she reaches for his face, her fingers trembling as she touches him, half in disbelief, half in desperate hope. Her heart races in her chest, the sensation of his skin under her fingers sending a jolt through her body that makes her dizzy.

"It's you, it's you," she breathes, her voice faltering, the words spilling out nonsensically. "Ben, it’s you..." Her heart soars in her chest, soaring high and crashing with every breath she takes, as if her entire being is caught in a breathless dance of joy and despair.

Ben watches her with a softness in his gaze, as if he can see everything she is feeling, everything she is thinking. Slowly, he pulls them up, guiding her into a sitting position on the bed, his hands steady on her shoulders. The motion feels surreal — like some dream she’s afraid to wake from.

Suddenly the combination of relief that she has not been re-captured by the First Order and the joy she is experiencing that her fallen hero is alive and here, mixes with the urgent arousal she has been battling over the past day or so.

Her body feely bereft at the newly made space between them. With something that sounds like a snarl, she launches herself on him so she is astride his lap. A shaky breath leaving her as greedily sinks her hand into his long dark hair. It suits him so much better than their buzz cuts did.

Ben responds by gripping her hips with his large hands, his eyes looking a bit more hooded as he takes her in. "The moment I saw you in that cell, I could tell something was not quite right. There was no way those guards would have gotten the best of you unless.." His adam's apple dances on his throat as he swallows heavily. She brings her mouth down, urgently needing to taste it.

He hums a bit at the sensation, the resulting vibrations exciting Rey even more. Her thighs squeezing his hips.

"S-sorry." She pulls back, suddenly embarrassed by her body's wild reaction. But his hands hold her tighter, not allowing her to pull herself back very far.

"It's ok, some of the X5 series got a bit too much feline DNA, it uh... can result in a heat-like phenomena around estrus" His voice cuts off in a grunt as Rey finds herself greedily rubbing her core against the suddenly hard bulge beneath her. She knows Ben is trying to talk but its getting harder to listen.

"It happened to Bazine as well, but she has Mitaka to help her." Ben rumbles, his jaw clenching and relaxing as if he is chewing the inside of his cheek.

That is enough to break Rey out of her spell for a moment. "Bazine? Mitaka?" She asks quickly, her heart soaring once more.

"I found them too." Ben says after a moment of looking between Rey's eyes with the same level of intesity she remembered from their childhood. "They're safe, Rey. I have a place where we can all be safe."

Tears spring back to her eyes as the news washes over her, it's like a dream come true. She is flush with excitement and pleasure, and Ben's body feels so good beneath her. He has the most handsome face she has ever seen. He makes her feel so safe.

Strange whimpers escape her as her hips start move back and forth again, more urgently this time. Pleasant bolts of tension are bubbling up in her stomach, and she can honestly say she has never felt so good.

"What do you need, Rey? It's ok." His hands are now helping support the motion of her hips, his voice more out of breath than she has ever heard it.

Rey's eyes are locked onto where his lips are parted just slightly, she imagines they must be very soft. Soft and warm. She has watched people kiss, she has witnessed much more in fact. But these had always seemed like things for other people to enjoy, normal people, normal humans.

"I- uh, I want to- " She knows she must look so absurd, her face flushed all the way down her neck, eyes transfixed on his mouth as she rubs herself so desperately over him.

Sensing her hesitation, one of his hands travels to the cup the back of her sweaty neck so that she looks into his eyes. They look a bit wild, a bit scary, but it only spurs her on for some reason.

"Take it, take what you need." He commands her, his voice hard now.

The order shatters the last of her resolve, sending her face straight into his. There lips come together with too much force and their teeth meet with a thud. Rey tastes of bit of blood coming from his otherwise sweet tasting lips and moans unabashedly. There is nothing tender about this kiss, it is feral, nearly out of control as she is.

Rey's hands drop from his soft hair to start clawing at his chest, breaking the searing kiss to moan loudly. This is all too much and not enough at the same time. His battered lips trail from her distracted mouth to nibble along her jaw, his finger tips now skirting up the hem of her sweat soaked long-sleeve.

"Ben, please...." She begs him, her mind is muddled with arousal, happiness, and gnawing bit of anxiety that he could disappear again at any moment. Her voice sounds so foreign to her, a part of her knows she will look back at her needy behaviour with mortification but she can't seem to get herself to care about that in this moment.

Her hips start to stutter as she comes embarrassingly close to a peak from nothing more than a few moment of furious rubbing. But as her frantic breathes mingle with his she can't help but get lost in the feeling of his hard, solid body beneath her, his dark eyes deep and limitless.

"It's ok," he mutters into her temple as he pulls her completely flush with his torso, his hips now joining her hurried squirming. It only takes a few strokes before Rey is breaking apart on top of him, the euphoria of it stealing the breath from her lungs.

With their chest pressed together, she can feel their staggard heartbeats synchronizing and it is the final straw and she shatters completely.

Before the last vestiges of her hurried orgasm even fade from her trembling form, Rey breaks down, her chest heaving with the force of her sobs. She clings even more desperately to the boy she had thought she lost forever. The tears fall freely, staining his shirt with reckless abandon. Her mind, already splintered from recognizing the agony of her loss, is now shattered further, leaving her gasping for something solid to hold onto.

She had spent so long running from the grief, pretending to be whole, that now, in his arms, she feels as if she might dissolve entirely. It’s a cruel kind of paradox this impossible reunion. The joy is blinding, overwhelming, yet the bitterness of their separation claws at her throat. The sacrifices they all made… the things they had lost, and perhaps destroyed.

Ben remains still beneath her, his body taut, yet he doesn’t pull away. His arms are heavy around her, the only thing that seems to keep Rey from falling apart. Slowly, as if unsure of how to navigate the wreckage of her emotions, his hands move, sweeping up her waist with careful tenderness. He pulls her back just slightly, creating space between them, enough so that he can look at her red sodden face.

The place where her tears had soaked into his neck is now warm and damp, but he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, there’s an odd sense of calm that drapes over him, the kind of calm that comes from a lifetime of knowing that some things — some people — are meant to endure.

When their eyes finally meet again, the moment feels heavy, as if the universe itself is holding its breath. Rey’s heart stutters, caught between the joy of seeing him, of having him here, and the terror of realizing how much time has slipped away. But it’s the look in his eyes that leaves her breathless. There’s a tenderness there, but beneath it there is something else. Something harder. A resolve that catches her off guard. It’s not the look she had expected, not in this moment of vulnerability.

Confused at his expression, Rey becomes painfully aware that he is still hard beneath her. "Oh-," she starts, shifting on his thighs, her face flushing once more with embarrassment. "Do you want me to-" she tries to ask her eyes dropping down to the juncture of their legs. She is realizing now how awkward she had made their reunion.

Before Rey can fully process the thought, Ben is on his feet, moving abruptly. He jostles her out of his lap with a force that’s almost disorienting, the sudden shift causing her to stumble. “No, we’ve already stayed too long,” he states flatly, his voice steady and resolute, as if the weight of their situation has suddenly cemented into something unshakable. His gaze is hard, unyielding, and Rey can’t shake the feeling that the urgency of it all is beginning to overtake whatever fragile space they had been sharing.

She catches herself, legs trembling as she regains her balance, and forces her eyes to finally scan their surroundings. They are in an unfamiliar bedroom. It’s a bedroom in what seems to be an abandoned abode. The faint smell of dust lingers in the air, mixing with the dampness of something that hasn’t been properly aired out in far too long. The remnants of furniture — old chairs and broken shelves —have been cleared away, but there are still traces of the past clinging to the walls. A large black duffle bag rests in the corner, and Rey’s mind quickly ticks over the possibility that Ben has been staying here temporarily, she can see small traces of it.

Forcing her attention back to the situation at hand, Rey steels herself. “What’s the plan?” she asks, trying to focus on their situation, on what they need to do next. Her voice is quieter than she intends, but it holds an edge of determination.

Ben turns toward her, his face set like stone. “We need to leave the city as soon as possible. We have to assume that the base you’ve created here is compromised,” he says, his words measured, precise — a soldier relaying orders. Any lingering emotions from moments before seem to have evaporated in the wake of the cold, biting reality of their predicament. There’s no room for softness now.

Her chest tightens at his words, a familiar pang of loss slicing through her. She can't help but let her mind linger on the friends she’d made in Seattle, the family she’d found. It feels like the ground beneath her feet is shifting — again. “Can—can we make one stop before leaving?” she asks, her voice almost pleading as she watches him move across the room toward the duffle bag. She doesn't want to leave it all behind so quickly, but she knows that in this world, time is always running out. “Surely the First Order can’t have acted that quickly yet.”

Ben pauses, his hand freezing mid-motion as he considers her words. For a split second, Rey sees something flicker in his eyes — hesitation, perhaps? He runs his hand through his dark hair, his jaw tightening as she watches him.

“I’m sorry, Rey,” he says finally, his voice laced with regret. “We have to keep moving.” He sighs heavily, grabbing a satellite phone from the bag without another word.

Rey feels a hollow ache settle in her chest, her mind refusing to let go of the thought of all the people she’s leaving behind. “But what about Rose...?” Her voice cracks slightly, betraying the rawness she’s been trying so hard to suppress.

Ben’s eyes soften, just for a moment. “Mitaka and Bazine are waiting for us,” he replies, the quiet intensity returning to his gaze. “We can’t risk their safety by lingering longer than we should. The faster we get out of the city, the better chance we have of not leaving a trail.”

Her heart sinks at the cold practicality of his words. Rey folds her arms over her chest, the gesture almost protective as she leans against the doorframe, fighting the tightness in her throat. She knows he’s right, and she hates it. The world they’re living in doesn’t allow for goodbyes, doesn’t grant them these type of luxuries.

As Ben begins to tap a message into the satellite phone, his fingers moving with practiced precision, Rey’s mind races, the weight of everything pressing down on her chest. Suddenly, a thought flashes through her. She reaches out instinctively, her hand brushing against his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Ben, wait—” She interjects, her voice urgent. “Before Langford, I got a lead on Jannah.”

Ben’s movements freeze. His entire body goes still, and Rey watches as his attention snaps toward her face, his eyes widening slightly with shock. It’s a rare sight, a brief crack in his usually impenetrable exterior. For a split second, he looks as if he’s trying to reconcile the words she’s just spoken with the plans he already had set out.

“Jannah?” he repeats, his voice low, almost disbelieving.

Rey nods quickly, her breath catching as she rushes to explain. “Yes. I hired a private investigator. There are old documents — old medical records that show she was living in Portland.” She takes a step closer, her hands trembling with a mixture of excitement and desperation. “We can find her, Ben. We can bring her back. We’ll all be together again.” The words are out before she can filter them.

Ben’s eyes soften for just a fraction of a moment, the stark lines of his face temporarily relaxing as he absorbs her words. He doesn’t speak immediately, but she can see the gears turning in his mind, the flash of strategy behind his eyes. His lips press into a thin line as he nods.

“I’ll send a message to the other two,” he says, his voice steadying as he pulls himself back into the role of someone who needs to act. “Let them know about the change of plans.”

Rey releases a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She watches him for a moment, the sharpness of his demeanor returning as his mind begins recalculating their next steps. But beneath that exterior, there’s something she sees — something she feels too. The same flicker of hope, buried deep but undeniably there.

As he starts to type into the satellite phone, Rey feels a strange shift in the air. It’s as if the future has just opened up, possibilities unfolding like a horizon she’s only just begun to see. She doesn’t know how long it will last, or what dangers lie ahead, but for the first time in a long while, she feels like they might just have a chance to have something they only ever dreamed about. A dream she had buried a long time ago.