"Then sleep," Kylo murmurs.

It will be so much easier, once he can reach out through the Force and push Ronan under. The matter of a moment. Idly, he tries it now— flexing his fingers, attempting to find the flow and strain connecting them to each other— but there's nothing to grasp hold of. Nothing but the low, background hum at the very edges of his awareness, like perceiving shifting levels of light from behind closed eyelids.

He hardly notices how his breathing has slid into synchronicity with Ronan's until he realises Ronan is following him, now, his chest rising and falling at a steadily, smoothly slowing pace.

Kylo knows the dark. If Ronan will let him, Kylo will guide him into it just like this. One breath at a time.