He did what he had do to. He couldn't have avoided it. It was the right thing to do... so why does he feel so guilty about it?
He could still hear his father's voice. Still, after all these months. Time, in Kylo's opinion, was doing a dreadful job of healing him. He was broken, every aspect of him; his mind clouded, at war, his body scarred. All that was left of Ben Solo is this: A man with the shattered mind of a child, just a shell of a person, really, desperately grasping onto the splintered shards of his soul. No matter how many times he tried to convince himself, You did what you had to do... it was never enough.
His hands clasped the edges of the sink beneath him. It was the only thing keeping him upright. Tears swelled in his eyes when he realized Hux was standing not four feet behind him, possibly leaning against the door frame, impossibly perfect hair tousled from sleep and blue eyes puffy from sleep. Kylo couldn't see the man. Of course he couldn't, not with his back facing the general and his face aimed at the floor the way it was. Even if he could see the general he would be fuzzy around the edges because of the pesky tears swimming in his eyes.
"Kylo, come to bed," Hux whispered. Kylo couldn't muster up the courage to lie to his love once again. He couldn't bear to spend another restless night alone in his bed. Tiny droplets of water fell from his eyes, racing down his cheeks and dripping from his chin. Some joined together and sped down to the drain, whereas other stayed almost exactly where they had fallen. In the steadiest voice he could possibly use, he mutters a one word reply to Hux's request; "Alright."
Slowly, so not to fall, he uncurled his fingers from the rim of the monochrome sink and stood with his back straight. Merely standing was exhausting. As quickly as he could, he turned to Hux, the remnants of his sadness still glistening on his cheeks in the dim light that Hux had turned on. That lamp was turned on every night when he found that his love was missing from bed. Although on the other side of their shared bedroom, the lamp supplied enough light for Hux to clearly see Kylo. Baggy nightclothes hung onto every protruding bone, wet, fresh tears ran down his cheeks. Bitterly, Hux thought that he looked horrible, and there is no kind or poetic way to say that, so he said nothing at all for what may have been an entire minute. To the vulnerable man before him, it felt like an eternity.
"Come to bed," he repeated, reaching out a hand and gently grasping that of his partner. Despite his current condition, despite his temper and his scars, Kylo was irrefutably perfect in Hux's eyes. Gently, very gently, he pulled Kylo out of their bathroom and over to their bed. The think blankets had been kicked down to the foot of the bed during Kylo's night terror. The pillows were distributed unevenly; three were on Kylo's side of the bed, and one neatly sat where Hux rested his head at night.
Hux climbed onto the bed, sitting up and resting against the headboard as he welcomed Kylo into his arms with outstretched hands. With almost childlike movements, the fragile man crawled across the large bed, bypassing his mess of sheets and pillows to rest his head against the general's thighs. A sorrowful sigh escaped him as the redhead above him wiped the drying tears from his scarred cheek. It disgusted him that anyone would dare mark his flesh. He was a disgrace for letting it happen, Snoke said it himself. Just to add insult to injury, it had been an untrained scavenger that marked him. She humiliated him, unwittingly gave him a daily reminder of his failure. He had been injured during the battle, emotionally traumatized and then shot by that damn animal, yet he payed these facts no mind. All that mattered was that he lost, and he was suffering for it.
Hux's guided his hand to Kylo's head, gently combing his fingers through the mess of dark hair. Before another self-loathing thought could make it's way through damaged man's mind, the general spoke.
"You're perfect, you know," he says softly, as if he knew what was going on inside the other's head. "Scars and all. You're so brave for doing all you have for the First Order, for sacrificing all that you have. You've been so strong for far too long." He knew exactly what to say. It was the same every night. "You've done more than anyone could ask for, Kylo. You must learn to appreciate the good you've done. You can't torture yourself like this any longer."
He glances down at Kylo to see that his eyes are closed, but continued gently combing through his hair.
"Every restless night you have, Kylo, I'll be right here."