Focus. Focus. The pain is real, visceral, tearing through her body and soul, but she has to focus. For him, if not for herself, as self-care is such an easy thing to forget.

"So҉ t͡ir̨e͏d.̧..͠" Rey wheezes, gasps, the foul taste of copper-blood in her mouth. No matter how hard she wills herself to remain calm, she can't help but shake. Only the pain prevents her from breaking down completely. Tears are only more energy that she can't spare. "I...̶ k̀e͠ep ͞fight̢ìng̶. ͘I̶'͝m ͏sǫ ̸t̡ired o͏f̵ fi͏g̶htinģ.̀.͏.҉"

It's all she's ever done. All she's ever known. What else can she do but fight? Something like that shouldn't be capable of love, and yet it's all that she can be burdened with that she fears it like hell.

Having something to lose... There's just nothing more terrifying than that.