weep little lion man

Hux can count on one hand the amount of times he's seen Ren unmasked, the imitation of his grandfather removed from his face and his parentage evident in the crooked line of his jaw.

The first time he was unmasked was the first time Hux saw the man, Snoke pointing out his young apprentice in the training field. Dark hair whipped around a pale face and dark eyes barely flickered as another man fell before him. The last of his opponents downed Ren, barely out of his teen years, had looked round and for a moment Hux thought he was looking to him, before Snoke's nod of approval dismissed Ren and he was gone, striding back through the path he'd torn through the academy's grounds.

The second and third came much later, both following similar trends, urgent meetings with Snoke, the hologram towering above them and Ren's face flickering in the pale light it emitted. Hux had barely paid attention, already knowing the boy that lay beneath the black swathes of fabric and having little time or patience for the tantrums that Ren was renowned for, almost as much as his use of the force.

The fourth and they're leaving the Star Killer base. Hux is an angry bundle of nerves as the planet is destroyed below them, but he channels it all into one trembling fist that lays by his side, nails cutting into his palm as he keeps narrowed eyes firmly on one Kylo Ren.

Red and black always did seem to be the man's colours, the blood and the spill of his hair darker than ever against his pale face as he lay in a med bay. The cut that split his face mimicked the split in the planet below and Hux could only dream of what Snoke would have to say about it when they met once again in person.

The disappointment, the failure. Hux knew he was young for someone of his position, but he also knew that age had little to do with anything. The man he was watching was younger still. Lineage, however. A long line of military commanders and generals sprawled behind Hux, his father and his father's father, dating back through the myths and the legends of the Jedi and the force, a strong yet silent line of command that always stood behind the Dark Side. To have sullied that would be far worse than to have disappointed Snoke, and how much of that had been due to Ren's rash decisions? Abandoning the droid and bringing the girl aboard, leaving her to escape and destroy and letting the explosives be planted for the sake of a family tiff.

Hux sighed heavily through his nose, his fingers unfurled to drag through his hair in frustration before he smoothed the red strands back down. It wouldn't do, to show up looking as if everything had gone wrong. They'd lost Star Killer, there was no doubt about that, but there were other plans in the works. Other things that perhaps Ren couldn't ruin if Snoke just realised that where the man was strong with force he was weak of will.

Failure.

It was the first word that came to mind when Ren opened his eyes. He was a failure. The entire thing had been a failure, and it all rested with him. Rage subsided into guilt, weighing him down far too heavily to even consider lashing out. There would be consequences for his actions, ones that no man would wish to endure. But he was the one who had brought her on board, who had led the rebellion to Star Killer. It all sat on his shoulders, and it was his guilt to carry alone. Perhaps this was his consequence, being forced to live with the knowledge that he had endangered their entire operation, set it back months, maybe even longer. The rebels were overtaking them, pushing for more ground, and he let them take it. The long scar blooming across his face was a visual reminder of his shame.

He didn't need the addition to make him feel ashamed of his face. Wearing a mask made him more intimidating and gave him a link to Darth Vader, but it was just that; a mask. It shielded his face, blocked out any possible resemblance to his parents, to his father. His dead father. His murdered father. It was one of the only things he seemed to do right, and even then it didn't quite give him the satisfaction he had yearned for. There was no closure when he watched Han Solo slip away into nothing. There was no confirmation that this is where he was supposed to be. No dark, no light. Just emptiness.

It was a feeling he needed to crush, and soon. It wasn't something that could linger when he met with Hux and Snoke. Hux had a tendency to see right through Ren, much to his annoyance. He tried to ignore the cold looks he would get when they interacted, but it was constantly a battle between the two of them. If Ren showed any sign of faltering or weakness in front of Hux, it would be the end of him. He had already been too reckless, and it was something Hux was bound to hold over him.

Escaping from Star Killer was tough. The cold that he had fallen into nearly claimed his consciousness. He didn't know how long it was before someone found him, but he was slowly dipping in and out when he heard someone shouting. It was Hux that pulled him from the snow, but after that, he had little memory of what happened between being found and waking up on the ship.

He blinked slowly a few times, trying to figure out where he was. The memories hit him quickly, the shame flooding his senses.

Hux watched as Ren's eyelids fluttered, then began to blink slowly with more intent and purpose. Twenty minutes from Snoke's base and Hux had hoped that the other man wouldn't regain consciousness until they got there. Luck was most certainly not on his side today. He sighed heavily through his nose as he got to his feet, reaching out to press a button that summoned a medical attendant and glancing critically over Ren's still prone form.

"I see your not yet dead," he commented, voice dry. "Although apparently not through lack of trying."

Hux pulled at his gloves, straightening them where they sat on his wrist as he studied the wound across Ren's facing, watching how it twisted and moved now the man was awake.

"We've an audience with Snoke in under an hour," he continued. "It would be best if you at least attempted to make yourself look presentable, and like we haven't just lost several years of planning and construction."

The door hissed quietly as the attendant entered and Hux fell silent again, unwilling to talk about the failures around subordinates, gossip travelled fast in such close quarters. He would also have to see to getting Ren a replacement uniform. The helmet disappeared and his robes in tatters, he looked every bit as bedraggled and ruined as the planet that they'd left behind.

Hux's voice was an unwelcome sound. Kylo was in no state to banter with him. He wasn't even sure he had the capacity to form a sentence at the current moment. The shame and guilt he felt were unmistakable, weighing heavily on his chest. It was hard to control, as though it was going to smother him at any given moment. Perhaps death would have been a more suitable outcome, a fitting punishment for the failures he had caused. He didn't need Hux reminding him of what he had done, what he had unraveled for them all. Despite his injuries, he was aware. He was almost too aware. Part of him wished he could forget, that it would be wiped from his memory. That wasn't the way this needed to go, however. He needed to remember this shame, this embarrassment. It would only drive him onward.

"Where are we?" Kylo forced out. It was only then he noticed the stiffness of his face, the tenderness on the left side of his mouth as his lips moved. The clear mark of failure, a disfigurement that marked him an embarrassment. It was more than just a surface wound. It felt like a fight just to stutter out the three words.

As the attendant entered Kylo couldn't force himself to look. He didn't want to know how many people had seen the disfigurement already, who was already saying what about him. The sooner he had his helmet, the better. He needed to hide himself, present the cold figure he had done before. Fear was all he had, and it was hard to believe anyone would fear a failure.