#dont learn hypothermia first aid from kylo ren

[thethespacecoyote]

For the Bad Things Bingo, this time “Falling Through the Ice.” With a touch of hypothermia thrown in, because it’s me.

The setup of this one is admittedly a little unbelievable (idk why theyd be together on Starkiller with no one else around) but lets just focus on the hurt, right. 

General Hux’s usual arrogance amplifies to a truly objectionable degree whenever he’s discussing his magnum opus, even more so when Kylo actually entertains inspecting Starkiller himself. He would prefer to do so alone, but Hux insists on his presence, as if he doesn’t trust Kylo not to destroy the entire planet if he’s not there supervising him,

Kylo keeps his fists clenched as they tramp across a wide, icy tundra, only half-listening to the general’s voice. It’s almost like Hux is using him to practice one of his speeches, apparently not caring whether he’s really listening in or not.

Thus when Hux suddenly stops speaking Kylo almost doesn’t realize, not until the sound of steps crunching into the snow beside him stops. He turns, hem of his cape swirling around him in the slight, chilling wind.  

To his surprise he sees Hux standing stock still, frozen in place with his eyes fixed upon the ice below him. Kylo furrows his brow beneath his mask, ready to berate him for his dawdling, when a sharp crack rends through the air and the general vanishes with a startled scream.

It takes a moment for Kylo to piece together what’s just happened.

Alarmed, he sweeps over to the opening in the ice where the general had gone under, the cracked edges of brittle ice giving way to endless dark water already stilling over the impact. Kylo takes a step back when the ground splits under his boot, knowing it would never support his own weight if it couldn’t even hold Hux’s.

He stares at the yawning black hole, like a mouth carved out of the stark ice that’s swallowed up the architect of its own existence as if it were nothing.

Kylo’s first instinct is to let Hux go—just a tragic accident, after all, what could anyone possibly have expected him to do?—and reap the benefits of his sudden death. With the snotty general out of the way he could finally pursue his goals unbothered, especially with someone a little less obstructive in charge of the Order’s army instead.

Kylo takes half a step away, snow crackling under his boot, when something deep under the ice pulls at him, tugging at the edge of his robes like a hand, fragile and faintly pulsing red like the distant beacon atop the outpost in front of him.

He pauses.

Kylo could easily take the sensation and break it, let it disintegrate in the depths of his mind and forget about it, but instead he halts and turns back towards where the general had fallen through the ice.

Keeping a wide berth of the most fragile edge of the pit Kylo closes his eyes, innervating his senses as he plunges deep with the Force. He feels himself phase through the ground beneath him, cleaving through endless dark water in powerful strokes. No natural light penetrates this far save the marbled glow of frigid blue ice above but Kylo doesn’t need it, has learned to feel comfort in isolated depths and silence.

He seeks, invisibly, that fading beacon of red, diving towards the last gasp of warmth in the bitter bottomless waters beneath Starkiller’s tundra. It’s hopelessly still, with no current to stir the indifferent depths, and yet Kylo senses within a soft cadence of life, exhaling its final breath in a trail that leads his grasping fingers right to its heart.

He seizes the beacon and in his hand it could blaze brighter, spurt forth like an arc of plasma and rend through the drowning void if he saved it, if he kept it close and let it thrive—

The cling of the deeps falters before his might, giving up the soft ball of red to its rightful master. It pulses, warmly cradled in Kylo’s grip as he pulls up, ascending back into his body.

A sudden splash echoes around the barren waste around him as the Force finally hauls Hux’s sodden body up and into his hands. Kylo grabs the general under the arms and drags him out of the water, laying him out a fair distance away from the sloshing pit. Hux’s seizes in his hold as soon as he’s free, doubling over and retching water into his lap. He starts coughing when Kylo turns him onto his side, entire body trembling both from convulsions and the cold.

Even when Hux starts to breath properly, Kylo can tell he’s barely conscious. Thin white lids tremble above unseeing eyes, the general’s already pale skin drained to a deathly shade. His hair plasters to his forehead, droplets of water already freezing on the brittle strands.  

Hux’s coat wraps heavy and waterlogged around him, the fabric horribly cold to the touch due to the water and the biting air of Starkiller. Kylo isn’t especially well-versed in field first aid, but he understands well enough that the general needs to be dry before he can properly warm up.

Kylo’s own robes are dirtied and flecked with snow, but it’ll have to do until he can pass off Hux to a proper medic.

He does it quickly, pulling the general’s arms out of his coat and unzipping his uniform jacket. He tries not to look at the skin exposed beneath his hands, his feelings regarding Hux too muddled at the moment for him to risk lingering on how pale and slim his arms and neck are.

Kylo pushes any sordid thoughts from his mind—as well as how angry such a proud, private man as the general will be if he finds out what had to be done. Still, he can’t quite convince himself to remove Hux’s shirt and underclothes—something Kylo blames on consideration for Hux’s modesty, not his own adolescent shyness.

He secures his robes tightly around Hux, hoping the warmth from his own body will keep him stable until they return to the outpost. The general’s expression remains stiff and flat as Kylo contacts the outpost, ordering an emergency response to meet him halfway, though he feels he’ll already be there by the time they get a few steps outside.

Kylo throws the general’s sodden clothes and boots over one shoulder before lifting Hux up into his arms. He’s a lot lighter than Kylo had anticipated, leaving him wondering how much bulk the coat and uniform really  add onto Hux’s frame.  

The general’s head lilts towards Kylo’s chest as he stands, meager breath only barely misting in the air. Hux looks strange like this, with his body weakened and vulnerable, so unlike the front he puts on around subordinates and superiors alike. Yet when Kylo closes his eyes—bathes himself back into darkness and silence—he can sense that ball of furious red beating, unfurling back into life like a nascent star.

It assures him more than breathing ever could.