[ Poe locks into place, his own fear a lightning flash replaced by resilience. ] I'm stopped, in case you missed that.
[ He's also confused. He has no idea what Ren is seeing, hearing, feeling. All he knows is that's fear on the other man's face, and he seems to think Poe is the cause of it.
It feels good, no matter how wrong Kylo is. ]
And I was walking.
[ Stupid, he thinks. That voice modder is so stupid.
He finally raises his head, and it's the heaviest thing he's ever moved in his life. Locks his focus on the mask to keep himself conscious and present.
"Comfortable?" Kylo Ren says.
"Not really."
"I'm impressed." Ren paces forward, step by slow step, and the low buzz of wariness turns into fear. "No one has been able to get out of you what you did. With the map."
He can't smile. They beat that out of him an hour ago. "Might want to rethink your technique."
He'll regret those words forever.
Ren raises his hand. Every story about Jedi, Sith, the Force, comes pouring back. Mind tricks. Manipulation.
He's not ready. He tries to be, he tries, but he can feel the spiked probing at his thoughts, the intrusion of something foreign in his mind. His breathing hitches. The intrusion brings a new kind of pain, one that goes deeper than bone.
His head snaps back and hits the table and he sees stars, loses ground against the thing trying to break him. Darkness, a power he's always believed existed but never truly felt until now. It wants to crack him open, eat him alive, and he's broiling inside his own head.
"Where is it?"
He struggles toward the room, the distant vision of Kylo Ren, both seeming miles away now, untouchable. He's surprised he can breathe, let alone speak. The words are torture to force past his tongue.
"The Resistance. Will not be intimidated by you."
He's dragged forward as far as the table's restraints will allow, pain in his wrists like a gentle pinch compared to the agony in his mind. He tries to tell himself it isn't real, it's a trick, he can't possibly hurt this badly without being touched, but he's losing his grip. The room is gone. Instead there's Tuanul, the cold of a nighttime desert, the kindness of Lor San Tekka.
"Where. Is it."
Stormtroopers. Dying civilians. God, he tries, he tries to keep the memories from unfolding again, but every part of himself, every thought, every emotion is being violated by pain and shadows. He screams with rage and agony, a useless sound that he can't even hear.
I'll come back for you.
Failure.
The pain releases him. He crumples back against the table, eyes fluttering closed, spent and feeling the aftershocks of mental and physical torture. A headache starts at the base of his skull and pounds in every bruise and bump across his scalp.
Failure.
He's betrayed them. Lor San Tekka. BB-8. Luke. Leia, god, Leia. She trusted him with this.
Failure.
He can't lift his head again. There's nothing left in him. He's empty, hope an ember ground out by the Dark. Nothing there now but the expectation of death. The desperate wish that he'd died before he could give anything up.
They got what they wanted. He broke.
I'm sorry, he thinks. To no one. No one will ever know how hard he tried to protect them. All they'll ever know is that he failed. ]
no subject
[ He's also confused. He has no idea what Ren is seeing, hearing, feeling. All he knows is that's fear on the other man's face, and he seems to think Poe is the cause of it.
It feels good, no matter how wrong Kylo is. ]
And I was walking.
[ Stupid, he thinks. That voice modder is so stupid.
He finally raises his head, and it's the heaviest thing he's ever moved in his life. Locks his focus on the mask to keep himself conscious and present.
"Comfortable?" Kylo Ren says.
"Not really."
"I'm impressed." Ren paces forward, step by slow step, and the low buzz of wariness turns into fear. "No one has been able to get out of you what you did. With the map."
He can't smile. They beat that out of him an hour ago. "Might want to rethink your technique."
He'll regret those words forever.
Ren raises his hand. Every story about Jedi, Sith, the Force, comes pouring back. Mind tricks. Manipulation.
He's not ready. He tries to be, he tries, but he can feel the spiked probing at his thoughts, the intrusion of something foreign in his mind. His breathing hitches. The intrusion brings a new kind of pain, one that goes deeper than bone.
His head snaps back and hits the table and he sees stars, loses ground against the thing trying to break him. Darkness, a power he's always believed existed but never truly felt until now. It wants to crack him open, eat him alive, and he's broiling inside his own head.
"Where is it?"
He struggles toward the room, the distant vision of Kylo Ren, both seeming miles away now, untouchable. He's surprised he can breathe, let alone speak. The words are torture to force past his tongue.
"The Resistance. Will not be intimidated by you."
He's dragged forward as far as the table's restraints will allow, pain in his wrists like a gentle pinch compared to the agony in his mind. He tries to tell himself it isn't real, it's a trick, he can't possibly hurt this badly without being touched, but he's losing his grip. The room is gone. Instead there's Tuanul, the cold of a nighttime desert, the kindness of Lor San Tekka.
"Where. Is it."
Stormtroopers. Dying civilians. God, he tries, he tries to keep the memories from unfolding again, but every part of himself, every thought, every emotion is being violated by pain and shadows. He screams with rage and agony, a useless sound that he can't even hear.
I'll come back for you.
Failure.
The pain releases him. He crumples back against the table, eyes fluttering closed, spent and feeling the aftershocks of mental and physical torture. A headache starts at the base of his skull and pounds in every bruise and bump across his scalp.
Failure.
He's betrayed them. Lor San Tekka. BB-8. Luke. Leia, god, Leia. She trusted him with this.
Failure.
He can't lift his head again. There's nothing left in him. He's empty, hope an ember ground out by the Dark. Nothing there now but the expectation of death. The desperate wish that he'd died before he could give anything up.
They got what they wanted. He broke.
I'm sorry, he thinks. To no one. No one will ever know how hard he tried to protect them. All they'll ever know is that he failed. ]