Cover-up was one of the better inventions in the galaxy, you figured. When you'd finished, there wasn't a stray spot on your skin that looked out of place. No, every inch was smooth and unblemished on the surface--an accomplishment, really, considering that you'd spent over thirty minutes caking over the handprints, the hickeys, and the seemingly-permanent stains on your cheeks.

Hiding the marks left by his lips was the most difficult. You would have preferred to tattoo them into your blood.

If you were being honest, you weren't completely certain if you needed to arrive at your assignment at your scheduled time. After all, the Command Shuttle had departed over an hour earlier, leaving you with little to do. Especially when you considered the pronounced absence of any Chief Engineer. Who would take Dash's place? Furthermore--who would even want to?

But arrive you did, shrinking as you stared into the empty space left by the shuttle. Part of you was surprised they'd managed to complete the repairs so quickly--but you supposed that between the application of actual effort and assistance of droids, anything was possible.

And perhaps you were even happy that he was gone. You wouldn't have to see him, then. You wouldn't have to remember how it felt to be in his arms. You wouldn't have to remember the taste of his lips or the rumble of his voice or the softness of eyes. You could let the canyon blown through your chest weep its ache into the void--you could begin the difficult work of patching over the shredded remains of your heart.

Stars, you sounded dramatic. But, it was honest. Every word of it.

The sound of your name pierced the cloud swallowing your head--and you spun, cheeks burning. Why were you embarrassed? It wasn't as if anyone else knew that you'd been metaphorically speared by Kylo Ren's lightsaber.

"Hey!" It was Minks, with Sam on her heels--a pair of perky, blue-eyed blondes. Though it'd only been, what, a few days, since you'd last seen her, it felt like it had been an eternity. So much had happened. Too much. "You're, uh... you're here!"

"I'm here." Even though you'd tried to muster up a performance of happiness, every spark died on your tongue. There wasn't a single part of your body that had the energy to pretend. "What do you want."

Minks and Sam frowned, looked at each other. Even that subtle glance was enough to rend the wound even wider. They had a connection. A real connection. When would you have something like that? Someone who cared about you? Maybe you never would. Given all that you'd done to land yourself in this position to begin with, who was saying you even deserved it?

"I know you've been through a lot," Sam said, not knowing the half of it. "We just--we wanted to make sure you were okay."

We. We. They were a unit, now. Together. You wondered who would say it first--I love you. You wondered what it would be like to hear it back--I love you, too.

You blinked--you really didn't want to start crying. "Y-yup. I'm, uh, I'm fine. F-fine and dandy. Really great. Super terrific. Fine. Fine."

Minks frowned. "Are you sure? After what happened with Dash..."

Flames fluttered at the back of your neck. You blinked again. And again. But no matter how many times you batted your eyelashes, the water kept welling while your mind reeled. Dash's face, drawn in death. The smell of his cooked flesh, the red ray of Kylo's saber. And it wouldn't stop: your fight, Kylo's room, the kiss, sweet thing, Hux's office, Force-fingering, laughing, smiling, his scream, his tears, holding hands, holding him, his eyes--I love you--

Bolts of pain shot up your thighs when your knees smacked the ground, your hands clawing at your scalp, lids snapped and mouth wide with bellowing sobs. Your face, hot as a star, sizzled the streams of tears that slipped down your cheeks, your body convulsing as agony flowed like lava through your veins. Gods, if only you could die, drop dead right in the docking bay, rot to a mess of bones and pointless flesh.

You'd collapsed into such an inconsolable pile of waste that you had little memory of Minks and Sam scooping you up and dragging you from the bay, though you retained snippets of Minks' hand at your back, your arm over Sam's shoulder. The next cohesive image you had was of the three of you, seated at a table next to one of the Finalizer's massive panes of transparisteel. You stared out into the endless expanse of empty air. You wanted to float through space like a rock, become as anonymous as the stars, make it so Kylo Ren could never, ever find you again.

Despite having said nothing, your friends must have understood, somehow, that the words waiting on your tongue were taking their time. You wished, for once, that they could read your mind, too--that way, you wouldn't have to articulate the tangle of emotions stuck inside of your chest.

"The thing with Dash..." You swallowed, folding your arms. A fighter blinked by the window. "He was, um. He was killed by Commander Ren."

"Well, yeah," Sam said. "We all, uh, knew that. When they took the body out of the shuttle. It was... obvious." His face looked pale.

"Oh."

"We just want to know what happened with you," Minks said.

You met her eyes--they were earnest, as always. But they weren't earnest enough to soothe the storm in your head.

"You remember when I told you that Dash was a fucking creep, Minks?" Pain congealed into a molten ball of rage. "Remember when I fucking threw up on your fucking shoes and told you I was worried about him?"

She shrunk in her seat. "Um. Yeah. Yeah, I remember that."

"And what did you tell me, that day? Do you remember that?"

"Um." Pink crept into her cheeks. "Well. I think I told you not to--"

"Not to worry about him. Right. In fact, I think you said the words, he's harmless, you can even ask Sam."

Sam balked. "What? Why are we bringing me into this?"

"I... I was just trying to make you feel better--"

"Well, guess what!" you barked. "Guess what! Dash was a creep! He tried to fucking rape me! And then when that didn't work, he decided to fucking strangle me, instead!"

Perhaps that'd been a little harsh--but it'd been true. Your choice of words had sent Sam and Minks into silence, both of them gazing at you with mouths agape. Minks' face crinkled, and she shook her head.

"N-no," she said. "I-I'm so..."

You rolled your eyes. "Yep! That happened! So then when he tried doing that, my fucking knight in flowy armor storms in and makes Dash a fucking spitroast!" Your nails cut into your sweating palms. "It's like, wow, if only a single person had listened to what I was trying to tell them!"

Something broke. You'd meant to maintain your anger, but everything was crumbling again, and you shielded your face with your hands, shoulders heaving with new, raw tears. And then more words tumbled free (if only you had a plug for your mouth), words that sounded bizarre and unfamiliar spoken aloud.

"M-maybe t-then I wouldn't have f-fucking ended up in Kylo Ren's f-fucking room and t-told him I f-fucking l-loved him!" An ugly wheeze ground your vocal cords. "He fucking h-h-hates me, now!"

You howled, whimpering into your palms while you wept, coating your skin with salty tears. Minks shot up, rushing to your side and wrapping her arms around you, shushing you while she rubbed your back. It seemed like hours that she held you, waiting for your sobs to subside, though you were sure it had only been minutes. The number of fits you'd had in the past 24 hours was now moving into two-hands-needed territory, and the well was drying quicker each time.

When you'd calmed, she squeezed your shoulder before sitting, and you finally met both of their stares, tinged with confusion and concern. And both of them also seemed eager to ignore the admission about the Commander, and you didn't blame them. What do you say to a friend who'd fallen in love with the most powerful, terrifying man in the entire galaxy? Too bad, dude, maybe you'll have better luck with the next emotionally-stunted Force warrior?

Sighing, you shrugged. "So. Anyway. Uh. How's work."

Sam appeared grateful for a change of subject. "It's been rough, dude," he said. "There's an issue with one of the freighters. No one's been able to work it out, and it's dragging productivity into a black hole."

"Really?" A little spark flickered to life--a feeling you'd almost forgotten. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's like the fuel cells don't charge, or something," Minks said. "And we've tried everything, really--we've replaced the cells, we've replaced the generator, we've rooted through all the lines--nothing. They're just--they're dead."

You blinked, crossing your arms. "Hm. Do you think that they might be charged, they're just not getting to the engine, somehow?"

Sam shook his head. "No. We thought of that. But the engine is fine."

"Hm," you said again, brow furrowing in thought. "Hm."

"The furthest we've gotten is getting the engine to blink," Minks said, "but that's only when we took the limiter out."

"Hah." You were familiar with limiters, at this point. Too familiar. But something was off about what she'd said. "Wait. You took the limiter out and it worked?"

Minks shrugged. "I mean, kind of. But it was for, like, a split second. And, uh, you know as well as we do that a ship can't fly without a limiter."

"Minks," Sam chided.

You waved a hand. "No, no, that's fine. She's right." Staring into the table, you bit your lip. The only reason removing the limiter would create an engine flare is if there was something making the limiter do its job. And if the engine was fine, then... "It's the heat sink."

Sam blinked, frowning. "No, it can't be. I checked the heat sink."

"Then check again, Foster," you replied. "Did you check the temperature calibration?"

He nodded. "Of course I did."

"And did you reset the calibration after you replaced the fuel cells? Or, even better, replace the calibrator?"

Face falling, his cheeks glowed red. "Uh. No, no. I didn't do that."

Clapping, you held out your palms. "Welp! There's your problem. I guarantee, if you replace the calibrator, it'll work." You winked. "Mystery solved."

Minks beamed, reaching across the table to grab your hand. "You are the best!" she said. "We need you back there! I'm so happy you're coming back!"

Swallowing, you withdrew from her grasp. "Uh, I don't really know about that. Hux never told me one way or the other and I just kind of showed up hoping someone would tell me what I was doing."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "What? Are you serious?" He shook his head. "No way. That isn't right. After everything you've done?"

"I dunno what to tell you, dude," you said. "Hux just doesn't like me."

There was a pause as he considered your words. His face screwed in dismay, glimpsing a distant planet before he turned back to you. "I'll talk to him." Then he stood, dusting off the bottoms of his uniform while he nodded to himself. "You'll see. You'll be back. I'll talk to him. Just wait here."

He marched off, face taut with determination, echoes of his footsteps bouncing around the infinite surfaces inside the Finalizer. You fought off a smile as you watched him go, heart twinging with a sting of regret. One of your many mistakes, disappearing in front of you. You wondered what your life would look like, now, if you'd resisted Kylo Ren. If you'd stuck to your stupid mantra. If you'd exercised just a tiny, miniscule amount of self-control. You wondered what your life would be like if you'd never even wanted Kylo Ren to begin with.

You wondered this, as if you'd ever had a choice in what you'd wanted at all.

"I think he feels bad," Minks said, glancing over her shoulder before looking at you. "He'd rather just do something for you."

You nodded. "Yeah, I know." A flush snuck onto your cheeks. "He's, uh. He's pretty great."

"Yeah." A shy smile curled her lips. "He is." A pause, and she blinked, forehead wrinkling. "I hope, um. I hope there isn't any... y'know... weirdness about..."

"No!" you replied, holding up your hands. "No, not at all." What right would you have to have a problem with it, anyway? "You--you deserve it. You do. You guys look great together." And it wasn't a lie.

"Thank you." She blushed. "Um. If you don't wanna talk about it, that's okay, but, um... what happened with you and, uh..."

"Kylo." Saying his name without him around felt weird. Like you were breaking a rule. But that's how you'd known him. "Me and Kylo."

She nodded. "You and... Kylo." Without the "Ren," it sounded even weirder out of someone else's mouth.

Sighing, you bowed your head. "Well," you said. "I... I don't really know." You weren't sure if you wanted to tell the whole story. A lot of it seemed private. Something you wanted to keep for you, and you alone. "We started having sex. A lot. Really, really incredible sex." Blushing at the memory, you met Minks' gaze--she seemed uncomfortable, at best. "Sorry. I just... I never had a connection with someone like I had with him."

Minks looked like she had a thousand questions--and you didn't blame her--but she probably knew most of them were far too inappropriate to ask.

"He had these moments," you continued, "where he made me feel so... special. So safe. Like I was this precious thing he needed to take care of, or something." The words sounded absolutely ridiculous coming out of your mouth. You wanted to shut yourself up with a sock--or, better yet, a rock to the head. "So I told him I loved him. Because..." Anguish cracked your voice. "I do. I do love him."

"Oh, no." Her lips formed a pout, in pity. You hated it. "He didn't say it back."

You shook your head, biting your lip as more tears stung your weary eyes. "He kicked me out. He made me leave." No crying. You weren't going to cry. "But I guess, um. I guess after all I did, that's what I deserve."

"No." Minks' voice was stern and cold. "You deserve to be loved." She grabbed your hand, and your lip trembled. "You do. You deserve to be loved."

Fuck. Another shatter, and your head slammed the table while your back swelled with fractured wails. Deserved to be loved. You. But if that was true, wouldn't he have said it back? Wouldn't he have pulled you close, met you with those impossibly deep brown eyes, and murmured it against your lips?

I love you, too, you imagined him saying, the rolling baritone of his voice rejuvenating your blood. I love you, too.

The fantasy only cracked you further, and you plummeted into a ocean of self-pity, whining and gasping as you poured out every last bit of pathetic, simpering emotion you had left inside of you. You couldn't keep doing this. Not this many times in one day, anyway. Part of you thought that at least you'd be able to get a decent sleep. If your migraine and buzzing anxiety didn't keep you awake again.

By the time you'd calmed down--Minks had sat with you the entire time--Sam had returned, cheeks ruddy from exertion. Why did he feel the need to run? Weirdo.

"Well?" Minks said, grinning. "What did Hux say?"

"Uh, he wasn't there," he replied. "I guess he does other things than sit around the bridge all day."

"Oh."

You shrugged. "Oh well. That's fine. They're probably going to ship me off somewhere else, anyway."

"No," Sam said, his tone as firm as Minks' had been earlier. "You're coming back. I'm going to take care of it."

Minks nodded, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him. "We're going to take care of it."

Warmth--friendship--covered you like a blanket. Maybe you weren't as alone as you'd thought.

They did follow-up on their promise. You received a message the next day to report to your assignment, joining Sam and Minks in the expanded elite bay. Even after weeks of transfers, the destruction of Starkiller had still left a sizeable portion of superior fleets without a home. When you arrived, the backlog of work was enormous--just the type of thing you loved to tear apart. With your assistance, the list was cleared within a few days (and, yes, it had been the calibrator in the heat sink, thank you very much), and Sam and Minks weren't only grateful--they were impressed. Under your direction, the docking bay was functional within two weeks.

Not that there wasn't an ulterior motive to your effort. You knew the search for a Chief Engineer was ongoing. You wanted to show your superiors just how valuable and skilled you were. You wanted them to know that without you, they'd struggle to keep their best fleets in working order. You wanted that position, dammit, and you'd be damned if anything associated with Kylo Fucking Ren was going to stop you ever again.

So stubborn were you, in fact, that when the notification of the Command Shuttle's arrival popped up on your datapad thirty minutes before shift-start, you resolved to make Sam and Minks run the post-flight check, instead. They'd have to learn eventually, anyway, if you were going to get the Chief Engineer position. You were just being helpful.

Pleased with your decision, you decided to head to your post, and rolled out of your cot, kicking around the floor for the least-worn pair of uniform pants you had. Snatching them up, you began to tug them on. One foot, then the other, jostling them to your hips--

The door to your quarters hissed open, and you yelped, clapping your arms over your exposed chest--only to be met with the impassive, motionless form of that very same Kylo Fucking Ren.

"G-get out," you spat. Your heart was undecided between leaping in elation at the sight of him or exploding into confetti at the memory of your last conversation. Either way, you wanted him gone. "I-I don't want to see you here."

"There's something I need to show you," he said. His mask hid any hint of his intention. "Something I need to tell you."

You swallowed. Tell you? Had he--had he realized that he loved you, too? "C-can you tell me now?"

"No," he replied. "It requires your presence in my quarters. Dress yourself and meet me there. Immediately."

It seemed urgent. It had to be. He had to be ready to confess. Right? You nodded. "O-okay."

He was gone as suddenly as he'd arrived, and you were bursting at the seams. You imagined walking into his room, him sweeping you into his arms, brushing his knuckles over your cheek while he purred into your ear with husky breath:

I love you.