Little Bird (Kylo Ren x Reader AU)

Life Without Living

(a/n: I really didn't think I'd get this out today, but I took the day off from work and it turns out that not working is good at reducing stress! Who knew. Anyway, enjoy this chapter, thanks to everyone who offered kind words and support, I love y'all very much and am grateful for everything you offer me--even the digs at my word choices. ;) <3)

Beyond the sheet, the doctor's shadow worked in silence, collecting instruments to soon be used to pry and expose your pomegranate flesh. Your monthly exam would never feel routine--prior to the collapse of society, they'd already been unpleasant. But now, separated from the provider by gossamer cloth, scrutinized in anonymity while metal objects cracked you wide, they crushed you in revulsion. The doctor whirled on his stool between your legs, air whispering over your bare skin. You swallowed.

A squeaking, clacking, and the cold metal of the speculum parted your labia and pierced your entrance. You held your breath, willing away the tears that pricked your sight--you'd always cried at this part, even before it became obligatory--drifting to your mind until he was finished.

Kylo Ren had been gone for 18 days, and in his absence, Gilead had drawn from your veins, a vampire of systemic proportions bleeding you not of life, but of the will to live itself. Without his presence, his power, his capability to extract you from bondage, you'd sunk into it like a tarpit, thick sticky ooze edging ever-closer to your throat. Sutures now removed, antibiotics completed, your days consisted of waking, walking, waiting, and, more than once, weeping, before wishing yourself into a witless slumber. Not that you were surprised. After all, before you'd fucked him in secrecy the first time, you'd asked yourself, what was life without living?

As it turned out: pretty fucking awful.

Pain lit up your spine when the doctor dug at your cervix for a swab--you winced, and the exam room door opened.

"Hey, we're running behind, you do you want me to grab the next one, or--"

"No, no," your doctor replied. "I'm almost done with this one. Did you get the urinalysis back?"

"Uh, no, sorry, I haven't checked. I can go do it now."

"Yeah, that's fine. Oh, hey." Then he swiveled away--leaving you gaping, a red tunnel open for observation. "Did you hear what the director said this morning?"

The other man hummed in thought. "Something about Commander Pryde. I didn't really care."

You stared into the ceiling, hands folded over your stomach, tears stinging again while your thighs began to tremble. Privacy and respect hadn't been afforded to you in three years; you had long been designated a womb buried in a hunk of meat. But something about having your cervix on display like the Hope Diamond was particularly nauseating. Your stomach groaned in humiliation.

"Yeah. Anyone who's even spoken with Pryde in the last month is getting rounded up."

Breath stalled. There was no way the doctor knew who you were--the sheet separating you ensured that. Dread iced over your chest.

"Shit," the other man replied. "Really? Damn." A pause, clanging of instruments. "Just questioning, right?"

"For now." The doctor grumbled. "I just had the tenaculum. What the hell?"

"Isn't it right over there?"

"Oh, right, yeah." Wheels squeaked across the floor. "Anyway, it's just a new round of Ren's bullshit." He sighed, scooching between your legs again. Something sharp and cold pinched you--you bit your lip. "Dissenters this, threats to Gilead that. I wouldn't worry about it. Unless--"

A snort. "I hate the both of 'em." The man sighed. "You'd think that fixing the birthrate should be their top priority, the way things are going."

The doctor grumbled, and something pinched you like talons, shooting pain up your spine. "Yeah. Well. If Ren has his way, half the people in this country are gonna end up dead."