( Fatigue washes away; pain washes away, replaced by something else, something driving. In the darkness that rises and clouds around them, Kylo sinks down deep into the undulating beckon of that bleak comfort and allows it to propel him forward. He calls on it, taps into it, not shoving away the thoughts and sensations of the deep throb midway up his leg but leaning into them, supporting his weight on every twinge, every twitch deep down in the musculature of his leg. He presses on without stopping, digging hooked fingers into the hurt there and ripping it wide to burst through to the opposite end, curling fingers into the white heat of agony and turning it to strength, force of will. The Dark Side.
Adrenaline floods him, his fingers grip Rey's belt tight, and the anchoring grip of her curled fingers comes down across his wrist like a vice. Kylo's fingers tighten around her belt in response, his knuckles hard and driving against the curve of her waistline where he urges her forward and runs after her. There's no point in shielding his eyes when the dust and dirt and chipping rock is too monumental to hide from, so thick that in their haste to retreat and clear the area it becomes difficult to make out anything other than the pale slash of Rey's figure less than a foot in front of him. His thumbs the ignition switch on his saber and kills the beam just as Rey delivers them to the edge of the ramp and begins their climb up and up and up.
He feels her slip as she shoves him past her, the distribution of weight suddenly relocating in such a way that leaves him no choice but to look back in the event that her stumble should cost them both, but Rey is already climbing to her feet and pushing him in the same instant that she is crashing into him. The edge of the ramp surges in front of him, accompanied by even ground, and Kylo manages to keep himself aloft long enough to go down on one knee with as much dignity and pride intact as possible before overbalancing in the opposite direction and sprawling on the ground next to her.
Out of his peripheral vision, he can see the dark swell of blood where it seeps through her clothing, and his head hits the ground in a way that his body was denied, his bad leg contorted under the onslaught of pain that radiates outward and inward, one hand pressed to his ribs in the same spot Rey is mindful of now before he turns over onto his side with the intention of getting a better look at the blow Ji had landed. It's a move doused heavily in the lingering surge of adrenaline afforded by pain and the Force and the dark twist of that union, a hard palm bumping into her abdomen without ceremony or permission. Fortunately, he has little time to consider the ramifications of it, as Rey is shoving him down into the dirt not a moment later once again.
Recollection of the sniper crosses their mind at the same moment - whether by chance or because of the bond, he isn't sure - and Kylo winds an arm between her shoulder blades to encourage her head down under the heavy spray of two supressive shots. Red blaster fire from the mine's proper entrance sings over their heads and explodes into rock face not twenty feet from where they lie, closer to Rey's head than to his own. Kylo looks up just in time to catch the swagger of heavy boots and the broad shoulders of the sniper through the haze of settling dust as the high, distinct whine of a weapon charging, preparing to fire, rends the air.
Without warning, Kylo gathers up what anger and burning disdain hasn't left him, what range he knows he has and the power he has cultivated and nourished for the last twenty years, despite injury or suffering or pain, he has left and extends a long hand through the Force toward the advancing figure blocking their exit. He feels skin and bone sift under the pressure that he exerts, sinew and muscle snagging on fingertips that turn inward, inward, inward, digging down and in, and then tear out. The gun clatters to the floor. )
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Adrenaline floods him, his fingers grip Rey's belt tight, and the anchoring grip of her curled fingers comes down across his wrist like a vice. Kylo's fingers tighten around her belt in response, his knuckles hard and driving against the curve of her waistline where he urges her forward and runs after her. There's no point in shielding his eyes when the dust and dirt and chipping rock is too monumental to hide from, so thick that in their haste to retreat and clear the area it becomes difficult to make out anything other than the pale slash of Rey's figure less than a foot in front of him. His thumbs the ignition switch on his saber and kills the beam just as Rey delivers them to the edge of the ramp and begins their climb up and up and up.
He feels her slip as she shoves him past her, the distribution of weight suddenly relocating in such a way that leaves him no choice but to look back in the event that her stumble should cost them both, but Rey is already climbing to her feet and pushing him in the same instant that she is crashing into him. The edge of the ramp surges in front of him, accompanied by even ground, and Kylo manages to keep himself aloft long enough to go down on one knee with as much dignity and pride intact as possible before overbalancing in the opposite direction and sprawling on the ground next to her.
Out of his peripheral vision, he can see the dark swell of blood where it seeps through her clothing, and his head hits the ground in a way that his body was denied, his bad leg contorted under the onslaught of pain that radiates outward and inward, one hand pressed to his ribs in the same spot Rey is mindful of now before he turns over onto his side with the intention of getting a better look at the blow Ji had landed. It's a move doused heavily in the lingering surge of adrenaline afforded by pain and the Force and the dark twist of that union, a hard palm bumping into her abdomen without ceremony or permission. Fortunately, he has little time to consider the ramifications of it, as Rey is shoving him down into the dirt not a moment later once again.
Recollection of the sniper crosses their mind at the same moment - whether by chance or because of the bond, he isn't sure - and Kylo winds an arm between her shoulder blades to encourage her head down under the heavy spray of two supressive shots. Red blaster fire from the mine's proper entrance sings over their heads and explodes into rock face not twenty feet from where they lie, closer to Rey's head than to his own. Kylo looks up just in time to catch the swagger of heavy boots and the broad shoulders of the sniper through the haze of settling dust as the high, distinct whine of a weapon charging, preparing to fire, rends the air.
Without warning, Kylo gathers up what anger and burning disdain hasn't left him, what range he knows he has and the power he has cultivated and nourished for the last twenty years, despite injury or suffering or pain, he has left and extends a long hand through the Force toward the advancing figure blocking their exit. He feels skin and bone sift under the pressure that he exerts, sinew and muscle snagging on fingertips that turn inward, inward, inward, digging down and in, and then tear out. The gun clatters to the floor. )