[ This time, the head-splitting pain never comes, and she staggers blindly into his mind, briefly losing physical sensation as she charges so assuredly into the telepathic link forged by their Force bond. A moment later, she detaches, hearing the heavy weight of dread in his voice fill her to the brim, though she has no personal concept of what to anticipate of the Knights of Ren.
In the wake of the dread comes the immediate and obtuse complaint that they don't have time for the Knights of Ren to come beating down their door right now. It's an indignant huff, whispered in her mind as she stares at the backfire caused in the heating unit. There's nothing she can do about the heating immediately, and they have time before the effects really start to sink in. The shields, the pressure in the ship afforded by the atmospheric controls, and the circulating heat of the hyperdrive should keep the ship at tolerable conditions until the mess of melted wires and metal have cooled enough to touch.
She shakes her hands out, flicking molten rubber wire casings off the edge of her reddened thumbs, and draws herself into the closet he'd steadied himself in for the task—right where she'd left him, but for the heap that he'd puddled into on the floor. Rey crouches, but not to soothe him. The hand claps quickly onto his shoulder, and though reassuring in its promise of teamwork, still grabs a fistful of his surcoat to drag him up by it. ]
Hey. [ She leans in to try to catch his gaze, steady him, sift through the immense and apparent strain that the task had put him under. As much as she wants to alleviate whatever trauma was reopened by the mission she had offered to him, they simply have too much to prepare for.
His breath roars over the sound of the engines, a desperate gasped wheeze that clouds her mind with guilt, and she can't tell if it's the image of Snoke or the knowledge of what the Supreme Leader has sent after them that sends him into this panic. Her nerves prickle at the sight of him so acutely unhinged, a picture she's only been on the other end of once before, one she doesn't want to relive. ] Come on. Don't make me do this alone.
[ The statement, clear and reverberating in the metal coffin they hurtle through space in, exposes a raw nerve that she had hoped not to offer to him but can't avoid now. He is her only chance not to be alone in this galaxy. Jakku was a very literal, physical isolation, but since then she's felt the blind and wayward confusion of stumbling through her understanding of the Force and training with it, watched Luke keep secrets from her, fought off the influence of the Dark Side in a way that she had hoped Finn could understand but was so different from his own experiences. Kylo's mere presence offers her an illusion of solidarity, even if it is unwilling on his part at best.
It's not that she'll be alone—Chewie would still be on board, after all—but that she would be without him and everything his presence at her side entails. The image he'd painted for her on Yaga Minor still burns in the corners of her mind, begging to be realized. ]
i'm so ready for the GRE question about quadex cores
In the wake of the dread comes the immediate and obtuse complaint that they don't have time for the Knights of Ren to come beating down their door right now. It's an indignant huff, whispered in her mind as she stares at the backfire caused in the heating unit. There's nothing she can do about the heating immediately, and they have time before the effects really start to sink in. The shields, the pressure in the ship afforded by the atmospheric controls, and the circulating heat of the hyperdrive should keep the ship at tolerable conditions until the mess of melted wires and metal have cooled enough to touch.
She shakes her hands out, flicking molten rubber wire casings off the edge of her reddened thumbs, and draws herself into the closet he'd steadied himself in for the task—right where she'd left him, but for the heap that he'd puddled into on the floor. Rey crouches, but not to soothe him. The hand claps quickly onto his shoulder, and though reassuring in its promise of teamwork, still grabs a fistful of his surcoat to drag him up by it. ]
Hey. [ She leans in to try to catch his gaze, steady him, sift through the immense and apparent strain that the task had put him under. As much as she wants to alleviate whatever trauma was reopened by the mission she had offered to him, they simply have too much to prepare for.
His breath roars over the sound of the engines, a desperate gasped wheeze that clouds her mind with guilt, and she can't tell if it's the image of Snoke or the knowledge of what the Supreme Leader has sent after them that sends him into this panic. Her nerves prickle at the sight of him so acutely unhinged, a picture she's only been on the other end of once before, one she doesn't want to relive. ] Come on. Don't make me do this alone.
[ The statement, clear and reverberating in the metal coffin they hurtle through space in, exposes a raw nerve that she had hoped not to offer to him but can't avoid now. He is her only chance not to be alone in this galaxy. Jakku was a very literal, physical isolation, but since then she's felt the blind and wayward confusion of stumbling through her understanding of the Force and training with it, watched Luke keep secrets from her, fought off the influence of the Dark Side in a way that she had hoped Finn could understand but was so different from his own experiences. Kylo's mere presence offers her an illusion of solidarity, even if it is unwilling on his part at best.
It's not that she'll be alone—Chewie would still be on board, after all—but that she would be without him and everything his presence at her side entails. The image he'd painted for her on Yaga Minor still burns in the corners of her mind, begging to be realized. ]