Kitty had fallen after they had rejoined the rest of the crew and after pulling Ben, who had been more Kylo Ren in the moment, out of a murderous frenzy. He'd seen her go down, and he'd been there to ensure that nothing killed her while she was out. She would have been proud of him. At no point did he lose himself to fury, not even after the fight when what he wanted was to throw Rey across the moon for being so careless.

He and Kitty were both sequestered in what is still being treated as the Falcon's medbay. There would have been protests—although the muscles of his upper arm had been thoroughly torn apart by one of the tigers, he has remained active and on his feet with worse injuries—but he wasn't opposed to watching over Kitty. The phaser blast had left a significant and ugly burn, and her continued unconsciousness was worrisome.

Two days passed. Ben and Han both tended Kitty, sometimes exchanging quiet words, more often working in silence. When they were left alone, he meditated. In theory, he was trying to unlock the various boxes in his mind where he had shut away feelings and memories to hide them from Snoke. In actuality, he kept being drawn to Kitty's mind.

He makes it almost an entire day without using the force to eavesdrop on whatever is going on in her head. After that, he justifies the intrusion by telling himself that he's only doing it to ensure that there's no unseen damage. He's relieved to find that she's sleeping dreamlessly and not slipping into a comatose state.

By the second day, he has moved his meditation to Kitty's bunk. It's small, so he sits at the top and props her head up with his thigh. This puts him in a good position to stroke her hair as he alternates between attacking the obstacles in his mind and wondering if there's anything he could do to speed up her healing. The dark side doesn't grant its users the same healing powers as the light side does; at best, he can encourage his own body to heal faster, but it's slow and tiring. It might not work on someone else, and he's reluctant to try.

When she stirs, his hand stills in her hair. He's relieved.

"Yes?"

She hasn't lost her memory of the events leading up to her injury, apparently. That seems like a good sign. Her mind also isn't screaming out in agony, which is an even better sign. He begins running his fingers through her hair again.

"It's fine." It's not that fine. He hasn't been focused on healing it. That process is too draining and pain is a familiar companion that he's in no hurry to get rid of. "How do you feel?"

That's not an accusation that he can deny.

"Yes, you are." And, because he doesn't want to move her, he levitates a cup of water that he had ready into his hand. "Would you like to sit up?" If not, he's getting fairly good at tipping water into an unconscious person's mouth.

Since he happens to like the way that she feels against him, this is an acceptable arrangement. The only downside is that he can't pet her hair quite so readily.

"Two days." The subtle contact is silly when she's using him as a backrest. Maybe the gesture's lack of utility means something. "We worried that there was neural damage."

It seems like an awkward position for arm-putting-around. He's an opportunist when it comes to instigating displays of affection; he doesn't go out of his way to touch, but he'll take an opening if he sees one.

"That was Chewbacca, and I already checked for damage." A subtle admission and an unspoken question. Maybe she won't appreciate the fact that he was poking around her unconscious mind.

His assumption does not line up with her assumption. He doesn't realize this. "No. However the bolt affected you, it didn't damage your mind."

She's not outraged. Quite the opposite, it seems, since she's making herself more comfortable. He lets his head rest on hers and doesn't ask what she did on the base. "You fell. We killed the rest of the creatures, left the moon, and now we're wandering aimlessly through space at sublight speeds."

Was she looking for details? Things that aren't obvious?

"He can tell stories when he's motivated." That used to be true, anyway. It's been a long time. Now that he doesn't have any children to lull back to sleep when they wake up crying in the middle of the night, he might have lost his knack for it.

"No one else is injured. My father worried. Rey undoubtedly feels guilty." Look, details!

"She missed the animal." Which makes it her fault, but he can't press the issue, not when her hand is there to be leaned into. "I was told to stay here. Watching over you was..." exactly what he wanted to do, "...all there was to do."

"I wanted it to hurt." True, and also a lame excuse. Walking around on it wasn't the most effective way to find more pain to hold on to. Yes, he cares about her.

This room was also a good, quiet place to think about the fight. There's a lot to think about. "Not after the first time." Now he does bring an arm up and settles it across her shoulders. What happened was alarming. "In the past, I've had control enough to choose whether or not I would lose myself to anger.

He wants her to feel comfortable and safe with him, which is such a bizarre shift from how he usually wanted others to feel around him. Planting those emotions in her allows him to experience them second hand. "I couldn't stop myself from starting.

"My emotions have been... contained, recently. They have no outlet. When there was an opportunity to destroy, they found their outlet. It could be nothing more than that."

He closes his eyes and, if he were capable, he would be purring. Even if she didn't really miss this, he did. He craves her easy affection. "I worry about Snoke. I worry..."

The pause is deliberate and long. There are some things that he doesn't want to admit to worrying about.

He doesn't want to, but he's already given her a free pass into his mind. She probably deserves to have things explained out loud, too. "I worry that the dark side is inescapable... that I've been there too long."