Eliot the Spectacular (highkingeliot) wrote in thedisplaced, @ 2018-01-09 10:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, eliot waugh, kylo ren / ben solo |
Who: Kylo Ren & Eliot Waugh
When: December 27
Where: Eliot's room at the Cottage.
What: Eliot and Kylo watch The Force Awakens together.
Warnings: Moderate. There's talk of various pieces of The Magicians & TFA, so murder, torture, manipulation, patricide, and major spoilers for TLJ.
Status: COMPLETE.
Eliot was sitting on the edge of his bed, with a leg dangling off the mattress, the other crossed over top of his knee, and his elbows resting against his leg. His fingertips were steepled together, as he leaned forward, lips pressed against the tips of the fingers closest to him. His eyes were concentrated ahead of him upon the television screen that he'd yanked from one of the spare, unused bedrooms. He and Kylo had discussed viewing the films sometime ago but because a multitude of reasons (arrivals, personal commitments, holidays, etc), it had been sometime until they'd actually gotten around to doing so. In all honesty, even though Eliot had agreed that they ought to do this, he quite simply did not want to. He'd expected the fanfare that typically began with Star Wars films (even as a non fan, he knew this much), but his eyebrows came together in slight confusion when it seemed to be omitted. It didn't feel important, of course, because he wasn't watching this for entertainment. He seriously doubted he would ever watch a Star Wars film for entertainment again. With the opening scroll, he'd taken in a deep breath, his shoulders tensing as he began to get context of where they were starting. Luke was gone, they wanted to find him. These were pieces of information that he'd gathered from having been around Kylo, and his universe, over the last eight months. And he was being largely silent as the film began, showing him immediately a familiar face. He did not smile at Poe however. He just tried to remain neutral. Soon enough, the Stormtroopers had arrived, and Eliot found himself raising an eyebrow at the closeup of the fallen trooper reaching out to another trooper. He did not remember the previous films ever giving any sense of acknowledgement to the troopers. He did not chose to comment on this, even as he watched the troopers lay waste to the village where Lor San Tekka was residing. A deep breath was brought in once again as a ship landed and Kylo emerged. His fingers flexed and he sat up straighter as he watched the man speak to Kylo. A frown formed as the remainder of the events transpired. And, with a steady hand, Eliot reached out to pause the film, right after the order came forth from the on screen depiction of Kylo to kill the villagers. He let the silence hold for a moment, the screen depicting a still frame of Kylo against a village in flames, but he did not turn to look at Kylo just yet. "Why the villagers?" He knew there was a war going on and he knew Kylo was on the 'dark side,' but Eliot had once said that he did not believe things were as simple as light and dark. There was always reasoning and understanding the reasoning would help. He waited before finally tilting his head in the direction of Kylo, looking at him. There was a very real part of Kylo that simply wanted to respond 'because I said so' and be done with it, but he had invited Eliot to watch with him. When his grandfather had suggested it, Kylo had realized that he should follow through with it, and Eliot should watch with him. To be that certain about something wasn't a sensation he was used to feeling. But that didn't mean he wasn't somewhat regretting it. Poe was, of course, framed as the good-looking hero. The low-key jealousy he felt towards Dameron wasn't without reason. Poe Dameron was good looking, and interacted easily with others, was trusted by Leia for top secret missions, and he was the best pilot in the Resistance, which didn't mean he was the best pilot in the galaxy. There were at least some things Kylo didn't need to be jealous about. Kylo shifted, a hand moving behind his neck. "They were harboring someone who was important to the Resistance," His words kept any emotion he felt tightly wound. "To let them go sends a message the First Order can be taken lightly. When your reputation precedes you, information comes easier." Did he regret the order, he wondered? The question from Eliot made him wonder if he should. He couldn't find any particular emotion about it one way or another. Lor San Tekka had been keeping information from him, and he'd annoyed Kylo. Poe Dameron, likewise. The villagers allowed Lor San Tekka to take shelter among them, and their punishment had been death. He frowned, and shook his head. "It's what is expected." Eliot shifted his gaze back to the screen as Kylo answered him. His hand was still holding onto the remote but he didn't start up the film just yet, as he let the answer sink in. He didn't have any experience yet in leadership. His title as the High King of Fillory was nothing more than that. A title. He didn't have experience to reflect upon and think about how he'd judge a comparable incident. From the First Order's perspective, the Resistance were traitors, were they not? They were rebelling against the galactic government. "Expected from Snoke?" He quietly asked, finger running overtop of the button as a distraction. Kylo stared at the paused screen. He wasn't certain he was going to be able to give an immediate answer to any of Eliot's questions and he wasn't certain if that meant he was trying to justify, or if he just wanted to give the question the consideration it deserved. "Yes," he turned to look a Eliot, his brows furrowed. "Snoke expects -" he stopped, swallowed. "He expects no mercy shown to people who don't deserve it." It would be easy to leave it there, all on Snoke's shoulders, but it wasn't strictly true was it? He took a breath: "You have to weigh a situation and make a call. Sometimes letting them live makes sense, but Lor San Tekka had been hiding from the First Order for a long time, and he was keeping information we needed. The people who were protecting him were all Jedi sympathizers - letting them live, is additional potential resources for others in the Resistance. So I made the call to delete the resources." He closed his hand around the remote, holding it tight, as he dipped his head down to look at his lap for a moment. While Eliot was firm in his belief that Kylo was striving for something better in Tumbleweed, that didn't mean that this was easy. "The man," Eliot began, having not been focused enough to catch his name, "was the Jedi Sympathizer it seemed," he continued. "I understand that logic against him, but do you really think the rest of the community was aware of his ties to the Resistance?" "Or was it just that it was a chance that could not be taken?" He lifted his head and looked to Kylo. Kylo's shoulders felt tense, which wasn't unusual for him, but it was more unusual with Eliot. The fear flared up once again that he could lose Eliot, or maybe as importantly, Eliot's perception of him. "The village members are all members of a sect called the Church of the Force. I realize that it looks monstrous. But," he hesitated, moistening his lips. "But the community would have turned around and done the same thing again. I'm certain they knew who they had in their midst. And if they didn't, had they known, they would have offered regardless." Eliot felt a twinge of guilt as he noticed the shift in Kylo's posture. He wondered if he shouldn't ask further questions. They were watching this, in some ways, so they could know fully what others knew of Kylo, were they not? It was so they could be prepared for perceptions. But he needed to ask the questions. He needed understanding. And, he was firm in his own belief that Kylo here with him now was no longer that man on the screen. They were always changing. He nodded his head. "I suspect a lot of the film is going to be framed in a similar manner," he told Kylo, frowning. But, if Kylo believed that they were willingly harboring members of the Resistance and would continue to do so, Eliot could at least understand the order. He was prepared, mostly, to move forward. Or as prepared as he could be. "Am I asking too many questions?" Kylo suspected as much as well. Perhaps they should have started with one of the other films - something about his Grandfather, or his parents, although that thought quickly crashed in on himself. He didn't think he could do that. "No," he answered quickly, and then he looked over at Eliot and a small smile touched his lips. "Maybe. But, I want you to ask them if you have them. If I can't answer you, I can't hope to answer anyone else." He shifted, leaning towards Kylo as he set the remote down in his lap. His hands reached out to pick up Kylo's for a moment, giving it a gentle squeeze, as he returned the very small smile. "Alright," he replied quietly. He wanted to ensure that he understood, which was the reason behind all of his questions. He moved his other hand to drop down on top of Kylo's hand in his, patting it reassuringly, before taking in a deep breath, and turning his focus back to the television. He moved the hand that was on top of Kylo's back to the remote and started the film up once again. More questions had come as they continued on but for the most part, Eliot felt as though he had enough insight from his conversations with Kylo in the past to be able to answer his own questions. The ones that he could not do this for were presented to Kylo with limited hesitation. And there were certain moments where Eliot felt an understanding that hadn't fully been there before; such as the relationship between Poe and Kylo. He'd glanced away during the scene where Dameron was being tortured. He didn't feel a need to say how he felt about that. He knew Kylo had a tap on his emotions more than anyone else. It was clear that Eliot did not like seeing that moment, even if he could understand why it had occurred from both sides of the spectrum. On occasion, his gaze would shift from the television over to Kylo, on moments where he felt a slight amount of concern. The Falcon. Han's Arrival. Almost any moment with Han, actually, had Eliot hyper aware of his partner's reactions. And his hand would periodically scoop up Kylo's when he felt it needed to be given. He was currently holding it, with his other turned palm up ward so his chin could rest against it, eyes glued on the screen, as Han answered Rey's question about why Luke had left. Most of Eliot's questions were easy enough, but it didn't mean that watching the film was easy. There was Rey and the Traitor, and Kylo found himself frowning as the ability to just jump in the Falcon and take off with it. He knew Rey was talented, but it seemed sometimes uncanny for someone who had spent so much of her life on Jakku - Jakku - of all places. Kylo felt Eliot's discomfort during Poe's questioning, and he wondered if he should suggest skipping it or say something, but what would he say? Poe had been a member of the Resistance, and he'd had information the First Order needed. Kylo had only come in as a last resort because pf Poe's strength in resisting. Kylo could explain that, but the context of the scene suggested it, and he didn't really want to dwell, so he let it go. He didn't want to see Han, but even when he averted his eyes, the man's voice resonated from the screen. Yes, his father tried to talk his way out of everything, and sometimes he succeeded, but sometimes he didn't. Han Solo had an arrogance about him, and he had never understood the Force, or his son. The difference between the Kylo who had lived through all of this, and the Kylo who sat in a room watching it unfold on a screen, was that now perhaps a part of him could admit maybe his father had tried. Maybe he just hadn't known how. Maybe. His eyes took in the map as it was projected in time to listen to his father telling Rey about what had happened at the temple. Kylo's jaw tightened, fear, anger, hatred, and regret pulsing up into a whirl of emotion. Luke felt responsible. The line was lost to the pounding of his heart as words burst forth without thought in the first loss of emotion since they'd started nearly an hour prior: "Because he was responsible." Eliot nearly jumped with Kylo's burst of words. He side eyed Kylo for a moment before lifting his chin from his hand and turning his attention completely from the television to Kylo, a frown setting in. Up until Rey's question on the screen, Eliot's mind had been circling around the question he'd had from the opening scrawl. The map, as a concept, confused Eliot. He didn't understand the motivation behind its creation, especially if Luke didn't want to be found. He shifted just enough to pause the movie and his eyes returned to look at Kylo. "Do you want to talk about that?" He asked quietly. Eliot had expected to be told more about that as Han continued his recount upon the screen, but clearly he had another source of information right beside him. Kylo stood up and turned on his heel to face the wall. He didn't want to talk about it, but did anyone know this? Or did they believe he'd attacked unprovoked? Certainly that was how his father seemed to be prefacing it. Frustration bubbled up and he slammed his hand against the wall. When he turned around his gaze found his lover's face. A flurry of emotions swept across his own face. He knew enough of Eliot's childhood to know that he hadn't always felt at home with his family, that he'd felt like someone who didn't belong, and certainly Kylo had felt that for his entire life. Perhaps part of the reason he'd taken on a new name, and tried to become someone other than Ben Solo had been to escape from the desire to feel as if he belonged as Ben Solo. "The boy he's talking about?" Kylo's voice was low, more steady now. "He's talking about me, he's making it sound as if… As if I just went after them. For kicks, or sheer darkness, or because I was a monster." He sat down heavily and stared at the screen where his Father's face could be seen in freeze frame. None of the others in the scene, except Chewie, knew who Han was talking about. But Kylo did, and the whole thing left a bitter taste. "When I was very young darkness would be palpable, and I always felt Leia was always afraid of me. Eventually she sent me to Luke for training. She didn't have time, so of course she sent me to him," there was bitterness in the words he couldn't entirely contain. The idea that it might not have been fear of him, but of the possibility of darkness, an impossible thing to fathom. "I woke up one night with Luke standing over me with a lightsaber. I had to defend myself. He intended to kill me." Kylo tightened his fingers against his palms, and his nails drew blood. "I reacted and the entire building crumbled. I thought I might have killed him and I didn't care," his gaze shifted across the room finally landing on Eliot's face with the fear that maybe Eliot wouldn't understand clearly visible on the surface. "I wished I had, later. I hoped I had. He didn't trust me, he didn't… I took with me anyone who would go. But some of them wouldn't believe me, some of them fought me." Kylo closed his eyes, the despair of that night sweeping over easily, teasing an emotional response in his body despite the tension of the moment. His words came out small and twisted, because even now, they held more pain than could be carried. "They didn't want me as I was, they never wanted me that way. They wanted someone else - someone that didn't have nightmares, or fear, or anger. Instead they got me, and I scared them. They were afraid I was a monster. "That night, Snoke made it clear that he'd take me, so I went because - maybe, at least I could, belong somewhere, even if I was a monster. But he's making it sound as if I had some plan," his voice sounded more like a plea than he really was comfortable with, but he wasn't certain how to pull it back, so instead he opened his eyes to look straight at Eliot. "I didn't. Luke turned against me." Eliot's frown deepened as Kylo got to his feet and turned away from him. For a moment, he considered standing himself and going to Kylo, but he refrained; opting instead to give him time to process what had just been revealed. His eyes flashed to the wall but he did not say anything. He did scoot just enough that both of his legs were now dangling off the bed and so his feet were firmly planted on the floor, ready to stand at any moment's notice, and his hands clasped in front of him again. Eyes lifted to meet Kylo's when the man turned around. He felt himself tense at the display he saw across Kylo's expression. He'd known that this was going to be difficult for them to witness, and he'd gone in expecting that they would eventually hit points that were harder for Kylo than for Eliot, but knowing and seeing were two different things. His heart sank some and his hands dropped between his knees, listening as he spoke. Eliot had surmised as much. He was doing his best to not make assumptions as they watched but it was difficult when he'd had pieces of this story fed to him over eight months; as well as a history of visual storytelling that told him what to potentially expect. It was an odd position to be in, seeing something that for most was entertainment but to Eliot felt like a biased piece of memory from an observer on high. This wasn't a movie to Eliot. It was seeing his lover's life on a screen, with exclusions and biases and edits for dramatic effect. There were omissions, basically, and it was why so many questions had been asked thus far. But the boy Han was talking about? Eliot had already assumed as much and his stomach had gotten tighter even before Han's statement of Luke's feelings of responsibility. Eliot couldn't imagine being in Kylo's position at this moment. He'd had his own strained relationship with his parents, particularly his Father, but he hadn't ever been privy to a private conversation his Father was having that framed him in such a negative way; without allowing for other factors to be considered. Eliot was sure there had been many. His Father had very articulate opinions about his lifestyle and that was with the man being in the dark about his abilities and more shady dealings. But it was another thing entirely to have complete confirmation and to bare witness to it, to be unable to speak up and defend yourself. And Eliot knew that the desire to defend himself was strong for Kylo, because that had been something that they'd unfortunately had to talk about in the recent months. It had to be even worse coming from his own Father. Eliot's gaze drifted down to the comforter for a moment as he let Kylo's words continue to wash over him. He wasn't going to interrupt the man. And as he spoke about Leia, his eyes shut for a moment, feeling a very heavy pang of sadness for Kylo. Perhaps this wasn't exactly how Leia had felt but Kylo had felt as if it was a truth. He was worried about his own Mother being afraid of him and feeling incapable of helping him. The sense of bitterness wasn't difficult to understand or sympathize when Kylo laid it out this way. This his eyes flashed open and his gaze lifted quickly from it's downward position to look at Kylo. There was an expression across Eliot's face that he hadn't managed to mask or suppress. And it was of complete alarm, mixed together with shock and hints of anger. Not for the facts about Kylo's reaction to the incident, but to the very notion of what Kylo had said Luke had done. It was impossible, going into his friendship and later relationship with Kylo, to not have some preconceptions about Kylo's family; even as someone who only saw some of the films and usually because of other's desires to watch them more so than his own. Leia, Han, and Luke were the closest thing his generation had to stories so legendary that they were practically myths; and Eliot had done his best to put all of this out of his mind and try to build new understandings of them as actual people. And he'd known that Kylo's relationship with Luke was past the point of mending. He just hadn't expected this. He'd thought they'd had a falling out that was likely tied to Kylo's shift in alliances and political view. And as Kylo continued on, with his gaze staring right back at Eliot and the words sinking in, a wave of fury was beginning to build inside of Eliot as he thought about this. Han did make it sound as though Kylo had some sort of plan, but the only way Han would have known of any of these events, from Eliot's understanding, was from assumptions and recollections from others. Or was it possible Luke had spoken with Kylo's parents afterwards, before retreat into hiding? Regardless, Han did not have the entire story. Han and Leia likely did not truly know what had happened that night. And, whether they did or not, didn't change what had happened to Kylo. He didn't know what to say to any of this but he knew his reactions were likely being felt. Shifting, he moved closer to Kylo and his arms reached out, wrapping tight around Kylo and wrapping him in an embrace. He buried his forehead into the crook between Kylo's shoulder and neck, with his arms squeezing the man tight. He didn't feel like any words were really going to be able to be enough in this moment. Kylo realized he perhaps should have expected this, to realize that Rey would have a version of the stories that was skewed against him from the beginning. And likely it wasn't just Rey here - everyone's version of story likely was. He understood that his parents and Uncle were the heroes from before, and that held true here as well as in his own galaxy. He understood that his perception of events wasn't known, or even particularly sympathetic, and he'd thought he'd accepted that, but as Eliot moved to embrace him Kylo realized that he hadn't. Not really. He'd been enduring it. And Kylo hadn't known what to expect from Eliot, but as Eliot's arms wrapped around him that endurance seemed to breathe. Kylo let his head drop against Eliot's neck and he closed his eyes. He moved one of his hands up to rest against the back of Kylo's head, fingers spreading out through his strands of hair, and for a long while he just held him tight against himself. Eventually, he gave a heavy sigh and turned his own head just enough to give a small kiss against his shoulder blade, before lifting his head. As far as Eliot was concerned, it was no wonder he'd gone to Snoke after that incident. If he'd been so certain that no one wanted him or trusted him, that even his own flesh and blood was willing to strike him down preemptively, who could blame him for giving into the allure of anyone reaching out a hand in welcome? "I believe you," he whispered, his heart feeling very heavy as he said so. "I know it doesn't change what happened, or what is going on back home, or what people will understand from seeing this," he began, making note of the still paused screenshot of Han, "but as long as you are here? You're wanted. You belong." Feeling torn was not new. What was new was something solid enough that he could build from. Kylo wasn't an idiot - he knew Eliot could be taken away from him - his fingers tightened slightly on the other man's waist - or something he did might drive him away, but so far… so far. "You've offered me nothing but acceptance since I got here. I -" Kylo sought words to figure out how to tell Eliot what that meant to him. Kylo felt as if he changed constantly, and yet Eliot didn't change in this. That steadiness meant Kylo kept coming back to the same place, and in the repetition, he'd been able to admit something that ought to have been simple, but seemed in fact like the first crack in trying to find something new. And maybe that had started further back than even Eliot. Maybe it had started with his Father on that damn bridge. They would still have to watch that. Eliot would have to watch the whole thing. "Maybe they're right that I'm a monster," he pulled in a breath. "But you don't treat me like one." Eliot gave the smallest smile of support with the statement. He'd had no reason not to accept Kylo in the beginning. To Eliot, Kylo was just another stranger onboard a cruise through space. He'd been given pieces of information that had allowed for him to infer somethings about Kylo but he hadn't ever come into this with the knowledge of who Kylo was to the majority of the world or what he'd done. And that likely had a lot to do with his willingness to accept the man; a willingness that Quentin had struggled with and Margo was outright rejecting. He perhaps may have not been so willing to accept the man if he'd only known him as what was presented on the screen in front of him. A man in a mask. A villain to be feared. He did not know. If he'd known all of this up front, would he have been willing to speak to Kylo in the beginning? He imagined if he had, it was possible that he'd have been open to hearing Kylo out and being willing to alter his perception. But that was all what-if's and irrelevant to the actuality of their situation. And it wasn't as though it was easy. He'd maintained that the man he knew was one who was striving for change, but that didn't mean he didn't have difficulty with some of Margo's claims. It didn't mean that he was able to witness what was happening on the screen with an apathetic eye. "That's because you're not a monster," he said, looking at him now. He took in a breath of his own. "You've done monstrous things," he went on, before growing quiet for a moment, thinking about this. "That isn't the same thing," he added after a moment, as he looked down at the comforter. "And you aren't the only one who has." If his intention had been to ignore the world Kylo didn't feel as if he'd successfully done so. He had tried, except for the cat that had adopted him from the get go, and then Eliot had come along, and then there had been Eliot's people, who had accepted Kylo - maybe because of Eliot, and maybe just because it was who they were. Leia had tried to continue to get him to talk to her. And slowly, largely because of Eliot, Kylo had found himself unable to ignore the world. That had led to him being unable to completely ignore what people said about him. He might have pretended not to care, but he could no longer claim that he didn't. And that meant that when Margo didn't want him around, when people talked about what he might do to his mother, it mattered more than he wanted it to, and more than he wanted to admit to except possibly to the man in front of him. In people's eyes, it might as well be the same thing, a monster, monstrous things - was there a difference to them? Was there a difference? Eliot's words caught his attention and his focus turned away from his own spiraling thoughts and onto what was said. It was on the tip of his tongue to dismiss the words as Eliot attempting to make him feel better, but something in the sense of the man in front of him stayed that: "What do you mean?" He kept his eyes down as he mulled over how to say what was on his mind. His statement could be applied to a vast majority of their company in this town, to varying degrees, whether the community wanted to believe it or not. People largely would have justifications for their actions. But he hadn't been thinking of the community at large when he'd added on that final statement. No, his mind had drifted to a fourteen year old boy that had been so filled with anger and hate at the sight of a tormenter, that he'd unknowingly sealed his fate with a thought. "I don't think of myself as a monster," he began, still with his gaze down. "But people could call me one." He turned his gaze upwards to look at Kylo now. "I've killed people, too." His voice was shaky when he said this. While there'd been moments of allusion to this topic, and only in relation to Mike, Eliot hadn't ever come out and admitted it. And the choice of words, people instead of person or someone, was deliberate. It had been more than just Mike. Only one more, as far as Eliot knew from his point of view, but it was still another weight upon him to bare. Kylo's found Eliot's hand, fingers sliding along Eliot's palm as a request to hold that hand. That there would be people in the town that had done monstrous things wasn't particularly a surprise to Kylo. Obviously there were people who had, but the idea that Eliot might consider himself one of them, that anyone could consider Eliot a monster was a thought that Kylo couldn't quite reconcile with the man he knew. He kept his gaze steady on Eliot.. "Talk to me?" Softly, understanding it was difficult for him t o talk about. "If you want to?" Eliot's eyes glanced down to their hands, eyes momentarily transfixed upon Kylo's finger tips, before he closed his hand around Kylo's and gave it a long squeeze. Though this was not a subject he had wanted to ever discuss, he felt he could with Kylo. And, more importantly, he felt he should. He let his gaze remain upon their hands as he spoke. "Logan was how I found out I was a magician," he began. "I didn't know I could hurt him. But I'd wanted to. He'd hurt me and I just remember seeing him and hating him so much that the thought was there," he continued, voice so quiet. "I made it happen." Kylo knew Eliot was a King, perhaps he'd thought it might have something to do with that. While some kingdoms were peaceable fairies had taken Eliot's daughter from him, and it didn't seem outside the realm of possibility that someone might have died as a result of that. But this wasn't that, in fact, this someone that had a name - it felt much more deeply personal. His fingers squeezed Eliot's gently. "They never tell you that powers come with downsides." He suspected if he'd had the opportunity though, he would have done anything to keep Logan from hurting Eliot - whatever that had entailed - and he could hardly blame Eliot for the response. Particularly if he hadn't known it was something he could do. "That's hardly monstrous. It's…" his gaze shifted towards the television screen, his eyes on his father's face. "It's not knowing. Unless it's the desire in the first place that's monstrous." And maybe it was that. Maybe the urge itself was monstrous. His gaze shifted back to Eliot's face. "How old were you?" "No, they really don't," he agreed, as he thought back to his own childhood heroes. He'd known that some stories had highlighted downsides specific to an individual but often it was viewed as something to aspire to. The community that had the shared powers would seem glamorous and it would just be the specific character that would seem to bare witness to any negative aspects of the abilities. "That's it precisely," he agreed. It wasn't that he'd used powers he hadn't known to kill another child. It was that the desire had been there. It'd been strong enough to push something that had been dormant inside of Eliot to the surface. "It was the intent," he added on. "Fourteen," he told him, lifting his eyes to look at Kylo now. "When you and I were younger here? It was just weeks before for me," he told him, frowning at the memory of his younger self holding in a vast array of guilt about the subject, even here in Tumbleweed; where he'd found someone else who had similar powers too. Kylo remembered Eliot when he'd been younger. He had pulled Kylo in then too - although it had been Ben then. Eliot had been young, but then so had Ben when he'd had the weight of all those expectations on him. "I wanted Luke dead after," Kylo said softly, as if the words aloud could do damage. "I didn't want Han dead. It was something I thought I had to do. Snoke took me in, but he told me I wasn't worthy yet of Vader's legacy. He told me sacrificing that past would give me extra strength, but he was wrong. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to say that I wouldn't wish anyone dead, but …" he trailed off. He would never again do it for somebody else's reasons. And if he couldn't erase the blood on his name, and he couldn't, nor was everyone here going to let him, he could at least not add more indiscriminately. "You said people," he turned his head to Eliot again, his attention back off of Han. "So more than one." Eliot's expectations were not tied to his abilities. His family didn't even know he was a Magician. But there were expectations that had been set early on in Eliot's life and Eliot fought against them as he'd grown, until he was full out rebeling. It wasn't the same weight as being the son of a Senator and two War heroes or of being the supposed chosen one to bring complete balance to a galaxy; but there was still them all the same. He nodded his head in understanding to Kylo's statement. "I don't know if anyone could blame you. If they knew the whole story," he whispered. It was a betrayal that he doubted anyone would be able to shake and knowing that Kylo had this weight upon him, and had for years, didn't sit well with Eliot. He gave a quiet nod in response, however, to the reference to Han. Eliot knew this. Kylo had been Eliot's closest companion since his arrival. Even if Kylo hadn't told Eliot that he didn't want Han dead, Eliot would have known. But hearing Kylo able to admit it was progress, was it not? "Not without good reason, perhaps?" This was the belief Eliot had in Kylo, after all. Eliot did not think Kylo was going to hurt anyone here. Then he nodded his head slowly. "I did," he agreed. "Mike," he whispered, so softly that it barely was audible at all. Surprise glanced off of Kylo's face. Eliot had told him about Mike, that he was gone, but he hadn't said why. Or, he had not said that he was the reason why. "You said you never met the real Mike." But Kylo knew he'd been someone that Eliot cared about. It wouldn't have mattered that Mike was being used by the Beast, the feeling would still have been there. Had Eliot known it wasn't the real Mike when he'd killed him? He reached his hand up, placing it on Eliot's jawline. "We don't have to talk about this, if you don't want to." Eliot didn't want to talk about it. It was a subject that elicited one of two responses from the man. He either would leap to anger, lashing out because the emotions had been stoked inside of him once again, or sorrow, because it had been a cruel trick that still ached whenever he thought about it. The only trouble was that Eliot wasn't going to deny Kylo an answer. He just didn't know if now was the time. He'd been trying to make a point. Mike was a situation that Eliot could more than justify if he ever needed to. In fact, he likely would if he did manage to get the words in proper order to tell Kylo. But justification didn't change that it was something someone else could view as horrid. He was thankful for the touch. He brought his own hand up to rest against Kylo's, holding his in place against his skin, as he looked to Kylo with sad eyes. "I brought it up," he stated, before clearing his throat. His hand slipped away and he shifted, pulling away from Kylo's touch now so he could be the one to stand. His hand slipped into his pocket and he pulled out his carton of cigarettes and lighter. In a flawless motion, he lit one for himself, and tossed the pack with the lighter down onto the comforter where he'd just been sitting. It was another grounding action, more tactical than anything else, and something he'd largely tried to not do inside the Cottage out of respect for everyone else. That consideration went flying out the window when his mood was down or stress was high; or even just on a special occasion. Taking a drag, he shifted so he could lean against the dressed a few feet from the bed, as his free hand moved into his pocket. "Mike used to be a student at Brakebills," he began as his thumb ran over the filter idly, eyes seeming unfocused on much of anything but the carpet. "When we graduate we get an alumni key, which lets us access the school, since it is hidden from public access." "The Beast..." He started but then stumbled, thinking about this. Should he still call Martin that? But Martin wasn't just a man who was slaughtering people to ensure he remained in Fillory. Martin had physically changed himself. He had actually transfigured his body in such a way to achieve his goals, so wasn't the name still relevant? Shaking his head, and unable to really decide in that moment, he pressed on, "...Martin. The Beast is what everyone called him in Brakebills, but he was actually Martin Chatwin." "Martin wanted to try to get to us. A pre-emptive strike. We've gone after him several dozen times. Always ended badly with most of us dead," he continued. "And the watcherwoman would reset time, turn it back, and change something to see if we'd be able to defeat him in that timestream." This was easier to talk about than the rest of it would be. He cleared his throat, though it didn't do much to help his increasingly shaky voice over the next sentence. "Martin took hold of Mike's mind and used him like a puppet, used him to get to me. He made me believe..." He stopped himself from finishing that sentence and took another puff from his cigarette. "...It was him Martin the whole time. Damn good actor. But he...went after Penny and Quentin. He got caught and Fogg held him for questioning. It was when he was doing that when Martin either...pretended like hell that he didn't know what was going on or he let the real...Mike...show through." "He tried to kill Fogg. I stopped him." This was said with more control over his voice than the previous statements. Eliot was firm in knowing he had to do that. He lifted his eyes to look at Kylo now. "I'm not trying to compare," he felt necessary to say now, as his hand wrapped around the flask that was in his pocket. "It's just that...I had to do it. I can give a dozen different reasons as to why it needed to happen, but that doesn't change that whoever Mike really was is gone; and his family probably doesn't know why." Kylo's gaze stayed on Eliot his own emotional turmoil from what his father had said fading back and away as he listened to what Eliot was relaying to him. He could only imagine what such a betrayal must have felt like, even if it hadn't been Mike himself that had offered it. It wouldn't have matted, Kylo suspected, because you thought that you had one thing, and then you had to have something different, and while you could easily say Eliot had been acting in self-defense, there was someone in there that he'd thought he cared for. He crossed the distance between them, for a moment not saying anything, for a moment not even certain what to say. Empathy and concern weren't things he found easy, but that didn't mean he didn't care tremendously. He could tell how difficult even talking about it was for Eliot, and knew there was pain carried around with the memories. He reached over, his fingers sliding around the wrist of the hand Eliot had pocketed, a request for the hand within the pocket, to be answered at Eliot's wish. Kylo suspected that he could answer Eliot's story with ones of his own. Kylo had been responsible for far more deaths than two, some done with disregard. But it wasn't a comparison was it? Eliot's situation had impacted him, and Kylo had his own stories that had impacted him, and they'd both made calls based on what was in front of them at the moment. "I wish you hadn't had to make those choices," he offered. It was the only thing he knew to say. He tilted his head to the side, eyes looking down at Kylo's fingertips against his wrist. He slowly released his hand from it's grip around his flask, which was so often used as a crutch, and allowed his hand to slip out from inside of his pocket. He turned his palm in offering to Kylo, before shifting to set his cigarette down in the ashtray on the dresser. "I wish you hadn't had to, either" he replied, before pushing himself off from the dresser, just enough so he could turn to face Kylo. He let his free hand move to rest against Kylo's shoulder and he finally lifted his gaze up fully to look at him. Kylo threaded his fingers through Eliot’s and leaned in, pressing his lips to Eliot’s lips in a gentle kiss. It was as much ‘you aren’t alone’ as anything else, in the only way he could think of to say it. The fury of the earlier moment had faded and while Kylo couldn’t deny the possibility of its return, he didn’t fear it as much as he might have a moment ago. He brought his other hand up to cup Eliot’s jaw, grateful for how Eliot kept him from feeling alone too. Eliot savored the kiss, grateful for the reminder that the man was there. He wanted to be the for Kylo as much as Kylo was there for him. When the kiss broke, he leaned his forehead forward, resting it against Kylo's as he didn't want to break from the space. Eventually, though, they had to turn back and face the rest of what was waiting. He didn't necessarily think they should stop, even though he certainly wanted to. For awhile, Eliot had just let the television remain unattended, enjoying the silence and the break. But they couldn't put it off for forever and eventually it had been turned back on. He had handed the remote off to Kylo once it was started back up. He felt it was better for the other man to be in control now. And as he watched the screen, where Kylo was crossing the bridge with Han in pursuit, he felt his stomach turn over on itself with dread. He didn't want to see this. He knew what was coming. But, even more so, he didn't know want Kylo to have to see it. He glanced to his side, looking at Kylo, with concern very visible. The remote sat in Kylo’s hand; he could stop it at anytime but instead he let the thing play out. He was quiet as he watched his parents talk about him, remembering as he did what Q had said about his mother. At times his jaw tightened, at other times, he pressed his fingers against his palm, embedding with small cressents there. None of it felt so blatantly wrong from his perspective. He couldn't say what sort of conversation his parents had together as their last conversation, but it didn't feel like an impossible one. The admission from Leia that she should never have sent him away buried deep. Ben Solo would always be the son of two war heroes, strong in the Force, with a pull to darkness that he'd never been able to completely shake. He'd believed that he could be great someday; he just hadn't quite understood why his parents seemed to be afraid of that possibility. And there had been fear - even if they still wanted him - he would swear that he had felt the fear of what that darkness might become. He'd spent so long fighting any sense of light, and he should have pushed back against his mother's declaration there was still light there. Snoke's apprentice would have. The Resistance plan continued, the blatant self-interest of the Traitor in recovering the girl. Kylo's shoulders tightened as his father approached the bridge, throat tightening as as his name was called out. When he'd stood on the bridge in Starkiller there had been something of the surreal about it, something almost as if he were standing outside himself watching. This was the same, but the emotion set was different. He knew what he was going to do, as opposed to knowing what he believed he had to do. He knew also that it wasn't going to go as he thought. Snoke viewed Han Solo as the taint of Kylo's bloodline. And Kylo had come to believe it. Leia Organa, princess of Alderaan and strong in the Force, and maybe if he'd been allowed to be Ben Organa that would have been something he could have embraced more easily. Han flew by instinct and emotion, and Ben had grown to hate that, even if he suspected that Hux might have had a similar complaint about him. Han Solo had been the link to the past that needed to die, because he was the weakest part of Ben Solo. Ending that had should have ended Ben Solo. Maybe it was less the Ben, and more the Solo he had truly wished to be free of. Kylo sat the remote down.Telling Eliot about the event had been bad enough. Having Eliot watch it was something else entirely. On the bridge that day, he had wanted to believe they would take him, but every beat of his heart was a reminder that they hadn't. Whatever his father had said, how could they have? Kylo had killed hundreds, been responsible for deaths at the Temple, even if not in the way that this film was framing it. He was a monster to them, as his Grandfather had been, and what place could he have possibly had? Would they have wanted all of his knowledge of the First Order? Would they have tried to imprison him? All the words sounded nice, and even now as he heard himself say 'I'm being torn apart', he could feel that emotion as easily as he had that day. Perhaps the only easy truth in what his Father had said was that Snoke was using him. He hadn't thought he would have the strength to completely separate himself from his past, but he had - except it didn't feel that it had separated him at all. If anything when his father had reached out to touch his cheek, it had seared that past into his soul. He looked away from the screen at Chewie's roar, unable to keep watching. His cheeks were damp, a fact noted with less surprise than resignation. He didn't stop the film, but stood up, stepping away from the bowcaster, from the scavengers cry, and the fight scene he knew was coming next. He had expected to never have to deal with Han Solo again, but then he'd been brought here, and Han Solo had been here. He'd been here and Leia Organa had kept reaching out to him despite his attempts to push her away. Maybe here where there was no First Order and no Resistance, he'd allowed that weakness space to root and grow. And now his mother was here, the woman who had felt her son kill her husband a galaxy away, and he could ignore her, except for the fact that he didn't think he could truly. He let a breath out, sinking down against the door so that he was crouched, his back to it, his head sinking into his hands. He wasn't certain how much more of the film he could take anyway. He reached out, hand a little shaky, and with the Force pulled Eliot's discarded cigarettes towards him. He took one out with trembling fingers, focusing the Force enough to light the end of it, and he took a drag. Smoking was Eliot's thing, not his, but the process gave him something to focus on that wasn't emotion better than destroying the cottage around him. He breathed out, feeling shaky as if he were in the aftermath of some adrenaline rush. Eliot didn't let his gaze upon Kylo linger for long, even though his concern was still very prevalent, and mounting with each passing moment. He suspected that quite soon they would be stopping the film, upon which Kylo would be given time to handle what he was forcing himself to relive. Eliot just didn't know when that moment in time was going to arrive and it wasn't for Eliot to decide. And though his gaze had been forced back upon the screen, just as Han had cried out Kylo's birth name, Eliot was hyper aware of not only what was happening upon the screen but also right beside him. As he watched the confrontation between Father and son, his eyes tried to focus in on the body language being displayed by Kylo upon the screen. He couldn't gauge completely where Kylo was at in that moment, for his emotions were being shielded by the mask. But even without being able to see Kylo's emotions on display, Eliot could surmise. Everything he'd ever been told by Kylo about this incident, and the history with his Father, gave Eliot enough to reasonable assume. And, while he was watching, he was firmly aware of the actual man that was by his side. His gaze had mostly remained upon the screen but this did not mean that he didn't notice what was going on with Kylo, with occasional side glances to the man. He caught the tightening of shoulders. He could feel the tension and the dread. He didn't need to have a connection to the Force to notice. With each passing moment upon the screen, Eliot's concern mounted, and it was taking a great deal of his own personal resolve to not put a stop to the film himself. Eliot was fairly certain that Han was correct in his statements. He did believe that Snoke was only using Kylo as a pawn, and here was Han, offering Kylo a way home. Eliot knew what was coming and he knew that Kylo wasn't going to return home with his Father, but Eliot found himself hoping that Kylo would. He knew how deeply he believed that Kylo regretted this moment and this action. Listening to Kylo's confession to his Father, of the pain that he wanted to be free of, only made Eliot wish for a different outcome more; especially in light of the truth he'd just learned about Luke's actions earlier that afternoon. He did not know what would have happened to Kylo if he'd turned himself over to the Resistance but it would have spared him the pain that Eliot knew he still felt. He knew it couldn't and wouldn't happen but it was what he wished would have. His eyes didn't leave the screen as the sense of dread mounted inside of him. Han was too close to Kylo and the saber was between them. Eliot knew it was here. He swallowed hard and sucked in a breath. He wanted to look away but he did not allow himself to. He managed to keep his gaze upon the screen until the saber had ignited but with the cry from Chewbacca, Eliot's eyes shut and he bowed his head. He pursed his lips and didn't open his eyes until he heard Kylo's voice emitted again from the screen, saying 'Thank You.' His gaze returned just in time to watch Han place his hand upon Kylo's cheek. He took note of that but then his sense kicked back in of the room he was actually in. He felt the shift of the bed, heard the steps away from the television and Eliot himself, and the sound of a breath exhaling. He now allowed himself to turn his gaze fully from the television, turning towards the door, and his frown deepened. In a slow shift, he was unfolding his leg from underneath of himself, getting to his own feet. For a moment, he stood between the television and the mattress, just looking upon Kylo against the door, uncertain of what to do. He caught sight of the tears on Kylo's cheeks and watched as he retrieved a cigarette for himself. And as the man lit the end of the cigarette, Eliot made his move, striding for the door. Soon enough, he was taking a seat on the floor beside Kylo. He didn't wait for Kylo to necessarily tell him what he wanted or need. Instead, he shifted close to the man, before wrapping an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in. Kylo allowed that shift; the firm feeling of Eliot against his shoulders helping somewhat to settle his nerves and the wild madness that was his current mental state. Every split emotion was threatening again, the certainty that even now he couldn't see any other end, the regret that he'd done precisely what he had done, and the knowing that he couldn't have returned either. It had been an impossible moment, and he couldn't, even now carrying the regret that he carried, see the magic path to keep from failing. He hadn't expected his father to reach out to him after. It had burned like a brand, searing him, with something that he had wanted to retreat from, even as he'd been unable to pull from it. Now, months later from the actual memory, re-watching that, it seared again. Light maybe, like someone shining a torch into your eyes after you'd been in a dark cave. He closed his eyes and put the cigarette to his lips and instead of trying to control his thoughts, he shifted all of his energy towards Eliot. The substance of Eliot's body against his own, his arm around Kylo's shoulders, the quiet concern that Kylo could feel radiating off of him. Perhaps the thing that he'd never been able to shake was how alone it had felt on that bridge. Perhaps from the moment his Father had stepped out onto it, he'd felt alone, because he'd known, even when Han made his plea, that there was no going back. The request his father was making, it couldn't be done - or so he'd thought. And even now, a galaxy away and months later, Kylo couldn't see how it would have worked. If he'd gone back what would they have done? He was still who he was, and he'd still made the choices that he'd made, and there were still deep canyons of differences between them. It was something he still understood from when his parents had been here, from his real mother being here now, even Anakin Skywalker… Kylo still ached that he'd done it, but trying to see a way out of that moment that was anything else. He could have let him go. Neither returned nor killed him. But Snoke would have known. Kylo would have been punished. Eliot wasn't sure what could be said in this moment. There were no words that could be given as comfort. This was a course of action that had been permanent and There was no turning back from it. The only path now was the path forward. The grief was likely going to be ever present. Eliot kept silent for a long time, with his focus now completely upon Kylo, though occasionally he'd pick up on the sound of a lightsaber or stray bits of dialogue from the narrative that was still on going, not that far from them. It was only when he heard the very familiar music kick in that he cast a slight glance towards the television, purely out of reaction, before turning back to Kylo. His free hand slid down to take hold of his. "It is over," he whispered, giving Kylo's hand a gentle squeeze. “Is it?” Kylo’s words were just barely above a whisper, maybe audible over the music, which felt at once familiar - he’d heard it before - and strange in this particular moment. The cigarette dangled from one hand, more finished than not, and for a moment he allowed himself the banal decision of whether he wanted to smoke it to the end or just snuff it. The cynical thought that he’d killed too many things before they were through was chased by another: that he should balk at doing so with a cigarette now and not a human then was ridiculous and absurd. Kylo took a drag and snuffed it with the Force. Eliot had his other hand and Kylo focused in on that, his gaze dropping to their fingers. Most of his thoughts couldn’t be strung together into anything that could communicate clearly, but one was simple enough, anchored by the hand holding his, that he could vocalise it. “You’re still here.” "It is," he repeated, though he wondered if the question had really needed an answer. The music was enough for Eliot to be certain. He knew how these movies always ended, even with his less than thorough experience. He watched as Kylo extinguished the cigarette and thought about bringing the ashtray down to their level on the floor. Only this would require that he let go of Kylo's hand or release him from his arms. He wasn't willing to do that. "I am," he agreed. Kylo supposed that was one thing to focus on - one thing in a number of things that he wasn't certain how to make sense of. Eliot was here still and maybe he hadn't expected anything else, but it was still true. He pulled in a breath, and for a moment focused on that simple fact. Eliot had stayed, and even after all of it, he was still staying. He was still here. And maybe Kylo shouldn't count on that. People asked him what happened if Eliot left, and Kylo didn't have an answer except that thinking about it still left him feeling wildly off kilter. Eliot being here, even after everything, was a sort of stability that he hadn't even realized he'd been looking for. He nodded, still silent, and he looked back up at the screen for a moment. It was all settling, sort of. They had never explained about Luke. It did make some sense how those here saw him. He supposed like Rey, they thought they knew everything they needed to know to assume who he was. "Grandfather was right," he settled on finally. "It does help me understand what they think." Eliot nodded his head in agreement to the statement. Anakin Skywalker's logic had been sound in the suggestion and Eliot couldn't necessarily refute it; even if it had been an incredibly unsettling experience. "Knowing is going to help," Eliot murmured, because this was something that he inherently believed. It prevented Kylo from assuming what they might be referencing. It gave at least a clear understanding of the mindsets. He glanced off towards the television and watched for a moment as the credits continued to roll. Then his eyes cast back towards Kylo, looking down at his hand in his own. Kylo certainly hoped so. There did seem to be some value in knowing what they knew and what they didn't. As painful as it had been,this knowledge was solidifying under Eliot’s touch into a sense of control and understanding. Maybe not control exactly, but knowledge, and Kylo had always preferred knowing things to not. It was something, coupled with Eliot’s presence, and Kylo found himself able to put thoughts to coherent sentences a bit better even if he still didn’t know what to say. As the last of the illegibly small words passed across the screen his eyes lit on the television for a moment, quiet. Even if there were coherent sentences he wasn’t certain if he could get them out between his lips. His mind traveled back to the first question that Eliot had asked him and he frowned, twisting his hand slightly in Eliot’s so they could be palm to palm. “I never killed without a reason,” he spoke, softly at first and then a bit more loudly. “I believed there was a reason here.” He frowned, staring at the television turning blank. "I know," Eliot said, rather softly, as his eyes lingered down upon their palms. Kylo had been up front about his beliefs about that moment since the beginning. When Kylo had shared the secret with Eliot, of how he'd killed Han, Eliot had asked questions and one of them had been both simple and complicated at the same time. 'Why?' Eliot hadn't ever doubted Kylo's answers to him. Why would Kylo offer up such a personal truth in that moment only to backtrack and give Eliot a lie later? Kylo had told Eliot that Snoke made believed Kylo needed to cut his ties to the past and that doing so would make Kylo stronger. With knowing what had happened at the temple, with Luke, Eliot didn't think it was possible to fault Kylo for reaching out for any sense of acceptance. He could understand the weight that would be given to Snoke's beliefs. "I remember what you were trying to do," he then added, his finger tips flexing against Kylo's. "And I know it didn't do what you wanted," he spoke quietly. It wasn’t a vision exactly, but it had the same weighty feel; this feeling that he was on the edge of a precipice and he could hold onto where he was, a place he wasn’t certain he wanted to be, or he could jump and hope that something would catch him. Nothing had ever seemed to catch him before and there was no reason to believe that if he jumped now that would be any more true. It created this feeling of inevitability that there was no escape and it was too late for change. He’d landed where he was and it might be miserable but at least he could hang on. There was certainty in his current location even if it wasn’t what he longed for. Yet he could no longer deny the certainty of that unknown or that he would have to deal with it, either to move through it or to cling to what he had that he no longer wanted. “It didn’t work. So either there is something wrong with me, or I was wrong,” these seemed the only two real responses in Kylo’s head. If Snoke was right and it should have brought him sense of purpose and strength then it hadn’t. So there was obviously something wrong with him that it hadn’t. Alternately, it had never been something that would bring him strength. Han had been right that Snoke was trying to use him - and while Han Solo had enemies, he wasn’t one to Snoke, but Leia and Luke, his death would cause them pain. “If I was wrong about this.” He ended the sentence before really dragging into the meat of the question, but even voicing the potential implications aloud felt risky. He risked looking up to meet Eliot’s gaze. It held that same sense of being seen as it had in New York and for a moment Kylo was certain that even if he had been wrong, Eliot wouldn’t hate him for that. Eliot bowed his head once again as he tried to think of how to respond to that statement. Even though Eliot had long suspected that Kylo regretted the act, it was another thing entirely to flat out voice an agreement to either one of those possibilities; and Eliot firmly disagreed with the first of the choices. He didn't think that there was something wrong with Kylo that had prevented him from gaining strength from eliminating his Father. "I think your Father may have been right," he whispered. From what Eliot had seen, and what he'd been told, he was fairly certain that Snoke had been using Kylo from the start. Ever since Kylo had left the Jedi Temple behind. He wondered how far back Snoke's manipulation had gone. Kylo spoke of nightmares whenever he spoke of his childhood. Was it possible that those had been orchestrated by Snoke? Eliot was still learning about the Force but to him the idea that Snoke had been behind some of Ben's childhood terrors didn't seem so far fetched. Eliot understood the entire blame couldn't be placed upon Snoke, as Luke's betrayal probably had more to do with it than anything else, but Snoke may have had a hand in it. Maybe. He caught the sight of movement and tilted his head just enough to be able to meet Kylo's gaze in return. It was going to be hard knowing how wrong one could be and how there was no way to go back. And even harder admitting it. He gave him the most supportive look that he could muster. He didn't say it but he shifted, his hand letting go of the man's, in order to wrap both his arms around him; as if to say he was there and he wasn't going anywhere. For a long time Snoke was the only one Kylo had trusted at all, because it felt like everyone else had failed him. And some part of him still wondered if maybe after all of this Eliot would end up failing him, but it was difficult for him to picture or to imagine in any real form. From the beginning Eliot had pulled him in. That had been not unlike Snoke in one sense, but it had been completely unlike Snoke in another major way - when Eliot had pulled him in, it had felt like being pulled into light. But instead of like the light he'd been fighting for so long this felt like the only thing he'd ever needed. Kylo had trusted Eliot maybe before he realized that he wanted to. Perhaps telling him about Han in the first place had been a bid for that trust to be returned. Certainly he'd thought they would all be dead soon, so perhaps it had been a sort of confession, a confession to the one person who was not so close to the situation that he would walk out immediately, even if Kylo had still expected to end on his own. But Eliot had stayed with him to the end of the world -- Even when it turned out not to have been. If Kylo trusted Eliot's perspective and it was undeniable to say that he did trust it more than Snoke would tell him that he should. Then Eliot's matched his own. He'd been afraid for maybe longer than he could have put to words that Snoke was using him, and his father had tugged on that string, as Eliot did so now. Who did you trust when you couldn't trust your masters, you couldn't trust your parents, and you were afraid to trust yourself? How did you try to build something on sands that felt as if they were shifting? Like trying to plot a course through a starcluster. Dangerous, and likely to end in failure. Kylo released a breath and laid his head on Eliot's shoulder, lingering in that embrace as if it might offer some answers even if he rather suspected the answers could only be found through something far less certain than this. "I think he was too," Kylo barely whispered, but it was spoken aloud, not just a thought he was trying to avoid thinking. With those words, even if only to Eliot, the admission was made concrete. The immutable memory of his father's fingers against his cheek shifting into the beginnings of something new. |