I just wrote this on my phone at 7:30 in the morning because ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Title from "Family Tree," by Jewel.
"I never stopped looking for you."
The woman—his mother, Finn reminds himself—reaches out for him, and he meets her midway. Her hand is smooth, cool against his flushed cheek.
Finn looks into her eyes—kind, kind but sad—and thinks he can see a part of himself there.
"You—you're my—" Finn falters.
If this had been the Finalizer, if this had been Phasma and not—stars and planets above!—his mother... Finn probably wouldn't be still standing here, in the entryway to her chambers. He'd be lying dead on the ground with a smoking hole in the center of his chest. Her finger would still be on the trigger.
"Your father gave his life trying save you," she says, drawing her hand down his cheek. "Your brother gave his life to find you. Your sister and I never gave up hope that, one day, we would get you back. And we did. You are back, Jonnai."
"Jonnai," Finn echoes, approximating her accent.
It is his name and, at the same time, it isn't. It doesn't feel as if it belongs to him. It belongs to the infant that was ripped from his mother's arms twenty-five years ago.
"I'm told you go by a different name now," his mother says.
"Yeah, they call me Finn," he says, mustering a smile. He can't help but feel a little guilty that he prefers Finn—a nickname, a riff on his old First Order callsign—to the name this woman and her husband had obviously picked out for him with much love and affection.
"I will call you Finn, if that's what you prefer," she tells him, smiling kindly, her eyes glowing like dark embers. "If you are not yet comfortable calling me Mother, you may call me Yera."
"What were their names?" Finn asks, hoping she understands what he's asking.
"Your father was called Tevan. Your brother was called Mykon."
"I'm Zeria, your sister." A young woman steps up beside Finn's mother and laces their fingers together. She, like their mother, wears a simple white robe. Her hair is a black cloud, adorned with a single gleaming hairpin.
"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me," Finn says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He isn't sure what to do with them. He wants to reach out, embrace this family of his, this family he's just found, but at the same time... He isn't sure if he should.
"Will you be staying with us," Zeria asks, "or will you go back to the Resistance?"
"I, uh, I've got someone waiting for me back—" Finn just barely manages to keep from saying home. "Back on-base. That's kind of why I went looking for my family. I... We're getting married and I wanted to see if anyone was left."
Finn's mother and sister beam at him and rush to envelop him in their arms. It feels right, being in their arms, holding tightly onto them. Finn buries his face in his mother's hair and breathes deeply, filling his lungs with her earthy scent.
"You must come back and visit us," his mother tells him, pulling away to hold Finn at arm's length. "Bring your bride with you so that we may get to know and love her as you've come to love her."
Finn's cheeks grow warm, though not from shame. "Actually, there's a bride... And a groom. I mean, another groom besides me," Finn stammers.
Zeria's eyes brighten and she clasps Finn's hand in hers in delight. "A triad," she exclaims. "How wonderful!"
His mother touches his cheek. "Bring them both for a visit, then."
"I will, I promise," Finn vows, nodding solemnly. Then he pauses, cracks a smile. "Mom."
His mother leans in and kisses him tenderly on the cheek.