I'm here, Kylo shouts silently, the sight of Ronan seizing his body triggering a hot flash of something similar to rage. But it isn't rage, and it brings him nothing of the relief and release it should.

He'd shaken Ronan like that. He'd tried to wake him for what felt like hours. He'd shouted. He'd paced and cursed and trashed his things, and it had achieved exactly what he'd known it would from the beginning: nothing.

Trying to force himself back into his body doesn't appear to work— it feels like it should, somehow, as practiced as he is with extending his senses and willpower beyond the confines of his body— but he can't find any connections to follow from wherever he is, whatever he is.

Time stretches out, distorted without measure. Ronan's efforts accomplish nothing. And then, eventually, Kylo takes a breath and feels it— and it's a relief unlike any other he's ever experienced.