AN: Thanks for checking out my story! This first chapter is pretty dense, but it'll flow a bit better going forwards. Fair warning: This is Finn/Poe with some explicit moments to come. If that's not your thing, please turn back now. Slow burn-patience required. -Bluestem
Poe sat with his squadron, what was left of red and blue teams, in the uncharacteristically subdued messhall. It was a long, low ceilinged room with rough stone walls. Creeping roots from the plant life outside snaked through cracks in the ancient ceiling. Boxes and crates of supplies lay scattered about like piles of leaves after a storm had passed through. Scuffed, off-white tables stretched in rows from the entrance to the buffet line, leaving a wide aisle in between. Except for a few of the nocturnal species, most of the base was there, eating an early breakfast. There were low smatterings of conversation, but these were tremulous and unsure; now that the warm euphoria of victory had had time to dull, the absence of friends and comrades was keenly felt. Silence felt more appropriate.
Beside him Snap Wexley and Zolo Ziff sat hunched and quietly eating. Across from him sat Jess Pava, Niv Lek, and Bastian. Their eyes were on their trays of food. Jess pushed her meal around half-heartedly. Poe studied the conspicuously empty seats around them, where Ello Asty, Furillo, Merrin Tall, and many others should have been sitting with them. Poe pulled his eyes away from the painful gaps, his throat tight. He'd lost friends before; you couldn't avoid it in this line of work—but never so many and all at once. Half the fleet, he mused morosely. Guiltiness swarmed icily through his chest, constricting claws digging into his heart. He was familiar with the sensation; as their leader, he felt he should've done more, somehow, to have assured their survival, even when in the back of his mind he knew that he had done all that he could.
A week previous, directly after their victory, General Leia had held an assembly to honor those who had given their last breaths to defend the galaxy and uphold the ideals of the Resistance. She had looked small, standing alone upon the stage before her podium, but as tough and fierce as a mother rancor, her eyes hard as steel. Not a person in the hall remained unmoved at the sight of her, their indomitable leader, she who had lost more than any of them, standing tall beyond her stature so it seemed that the high ceiling could hardly contain her, and the hearts of all within were filled with her strength. Poe felt as if a flame had been kindled in his chest. She had called out in a firm, unbending voice the names of the dead and each was honored with silence. Not even the name of General Han Solo could defeat her, though Poe had noticed her hands had clenched white upon the podiums edges. Posthumous medals had been awarded, ranks raised in death. Poe's composure had nearly unraveled at the seams when Snap had begun silently crying; Snap and Ello had always played at a friendly rivalry, competing to see who would make it to the rank of Major first. Ello had beaten him in the end.
Poe and BB-8, his remaining pilots and their droids, Chewbacca, and the young woman Poe had briefly met and knew as Rey, stood apart from the assembled crowd. Poe understood that General Leia meant to honor them, and he had wished that she wouldn't. He could never have done what he'd done without his team, and most had sacrificed more than he.
But one by one she had called their names and they'd found themselves lining stiffly up beside her, receiving medals of bravery and standing for applause. She had called Poe's actions 'heroically brave', taken his hand in both of hers, had thanked him for firing the shots that had destroyed Starkiller Base, called him a 'true and compassionate leader'. He'd been given the rank of Colonel. All those assembled had stood, saluted, and cheered for him, including Leia herself; his fellow pilots thumped him on the back with joy. He'd never felt such a potent combination of gratitude and grief in all of his life and for a long while afterwards he could not speak.
General Leia had extolled Finn's role loudly, for most did not know him personally; from Finn's rescuing of Poe from certain death and his role in bringing BB-8 back to headquarters, to the vital information about Starkiller base that he had given them, without which they would all be dead. She praised his bravery in breaking free from the indoctrinated cruelty of the First Order. He proved, she said, that the inherent goodness in all life often only needed a chance to show itself. That the First Order had been unable to smother the light of even one man showed how truly desperate and fragile the regime's grip upon the galaxy was. Pride had swelled through Poe's chest upon hearing these words—he'd wished Finn had been there to share them, and to hear the thunderous applause and accolades that were due to him.
Rey had been honored, though none but the senior officers knew who she was or what part she'd played in the battle. Like Poe, Leia had pinned the gold medal of bravery upon her chest. She stood awkwardly before the crowd, overwhelmed with the praising acknowledgement of strangers, and blinking back tears. She looked as grateful as Poe felt when they were given leave to step down from the stage. She'd sat heavily with Chewbacca and her face was a study in worry and exhaustion. Though he hardly knew her, Poe admired her greatly. BB-8 had told him all that Rey had done for the droid; how she'd taken him in, protected him, fought off junkers and smugglers to keep the droid safe. How she'd left her home—her life—behind to get the droid back to the Resistance. And she was Finn's friend. She had saved Finn. Poe owed her more than he could ever express, though she didn't know it. He'd meant to tell her.
As the assembly broke and parted, and Poe had given "thank yous" and accepted hand-shakes and hugs from what felt like half the crowd, he'd seen General Leia approach Rey and Chewbacca, and Poe had felt suddenly like an intruder in the midst of a family's grief. He'd held respectfully back, watching, listening half-heartedly to the chatter of Snap and Jess. Chewbacca had stood, physically dwarfing the General, though he hugged her as gently as if she were made of glass and might shatter at the slightest touch. Leia had said something to him, nodding, and then she turned to Rey. The hand she'd placed upon Rey's shoulder was motherly, full of the permission to feel and to be supported. She had led the young woman away, back to the General's quarters, two solid forms fading together into the dim corridor. Poe had watched them go, understanding in his gut that there was some connection between the two, though he couldn't put his finger on it.
And six days ago Rey had left aboard the Millennium Falcon along with Chewbacca and Luke Skywalker's famous old astromech droid, R2-D2. It was, Poe had realized as he'd gathered with Leia and a handful of other officers to see them off, the Force that had drawn him to Rey, just as it had drawn him to Leia; a warm, enlivening, benign pull that he'd always been aware of, though he couldn't manipulate it as a Jedi could. He'd grinned as he'd watched the Falcon roar away into the clear blue sky, shrinking to a dust mote drifting silently on clean breeze. Because of all of their efforts and sacrifices, because of Rey's innate connection to the Force, the Jedi would return. The galaxy would heal. The thought had cheered him for the rest of the day.
His cheerfulness had now dulled and fallen away like an old husk, as he sat with his silent friends in the silent messhall. Tension pulled at his neck and jaw. He wanted to be doing something, anything; reconnaissance runs, sex, ground work, packing—anything to get his mind off how helpless he felt while waiting for orders from above. It was a dangerous, fragile moment for the Resistance. The whole tangled spider web of planetary allegiances threatened to shatter into a million conflicting agendas, as government's reassessed threats, relationships, and how their personal interests could be furthered by this new conflict. Poe knew it was only a short step back into the chaos of the dark times before the Old Republic. The Senate, Government, Fleet, and the star system that had sheltered the fledgling, but stable Republic, had all been obliterated. What remained in unity was now in hurried communication with the Resistance; Core worlds transmitted back and forth with such frequency and urgency that the communications crew had not slept for days.
The Resistance, the offshoot that the Republic had been hesitant to condone, would become the new rallying point for the rest of the galaxy. At least, for those members of the galaxy that did not condone mass genocide and the destruction of planets and systems. In the Republic that Poe had previously served, Leia had been slandered as a 'damaged renegade' or 'warmonger'; at least, those were the more polite terms that governmental elitists had used to publically denounce her. Now she stood elevated on high as the bearer of truth, the one who had argued, fought, and pleaded for the Republic to listen to her. People would flock to her now. Poe expected that the Resistance would soon have more new recruits than they'd know what to do with, once the senior officials had corroborated with their allies and put out the word. Poe rubbed his brow. If only they had listened. Poe fiddled with his food and then wished that he understood coding, translations, and encryption well enough to be of use for the communications staff. He'd spent most of his time over the past week with his crew or sitting at Finn's bedside waiting for him to wake.
He jolted slightly in his seat as his com unit buzzed in his chest pocket, hopeful excitement coursing through him. He brought the small device to his ear.
"Poe here." He said. Finally, something. He'd expected to hear General Leia's voice, but it was instead the warm, often sarcastic tones of Major Kalonia. His heart leapt.
"Ah, Commander I—sorry: Colonel. I've got some good news for you." Major Kalonia's voice was a breath of fresh air, clearing out all the worry and tension from his mind like so many cobwebs. He knew what she was about to say before she'd had the chance and a wide grin stretched his face. His crew glanced to each other then and up at him in confusion, anticipating orders and more than ready to abandon the pretense of eating. He'd already risen from his seat as the physician carried on.
"I've decided that Finn's condition has stabilized enough to bring him out of his medically induced coma. I thought you might like to be here—I'm sure he'll have questions when he comes to, and you can answer them better than I."
"I'm on my way, Major." A laugh threatened to muddle his words. He slipped the com back into his pocket, his mood now as buoyant as it had been despondent.
"Well?" Jess was hovering off her seat, ready to spring into action.
"It's Finn—Major Kalonia's getting ready to bring him round." He said, excitedly.
"Hey, that's great!" Snap said with a stalwart nod. Jess and the others showed varying degrees of excitement and disappointment. Like Poe, they had been hoping for a mission to get them moving again. The news of their newest recruit coming round was, of course, heartening, but hardly enough to rouse their spirits.
"Keep an ear out; I get any commands, I'll let you know." Poe left the table and walked quickly down the main aisle. BB-8 detached itself from the motley cluster of Astromechs it usually talked with when Poe was engaged in what the droid called 'organic matters', such as eating, and rolled up alongside him. Poe returned a flurry of waves and nodded 'hellos' as he passed by his comrades; his dashing bravado and talent had always made him a popular figure within the Resistance. Now, after yesterday's ceremony, he found himself riding an atmospherically high wave of attention. He'd never had so many raking him over with their eyes, or slapping him on the back in his life; he felt he'd soon have a permanent dent from it all.
BB-8 found itself fawned over as well. Women, especially, oohed and aahed over the little round droid, though BB-8 suspected this was only a ploy to get closer to Poe. Poe remained good natured over the attention, though he found it somewhat wearying to hear his name springing out at him from all over base, as randomly as the flea-ticks that had once infested the place. He could hardly walk into a refresher unit without being ambushed with praise. Though did have certain perks, the desire for popularity had never been why he took on the toughest missions he could get—with his skills, the legacy of his parent's bravery, and the sacrifices of his comrades, he could never be content with doing anything other than his best. That, and he loved the simple joy of flying.
[What's going on?] BB-8's warbling chatter drew him out of his thoughts as they descended a sharp-edged flight of stairs. The droid rolled it's body forwards, thunked down one stone step, and then quickly pulled it's head backwards to keep from overbalancing. Again it rolled forwards, dropped a step, and counterbalanced. In this awkward manner, the spherical droid was able to tackle what looked to be, for it, an impossible obstacle. Poe slowed his steps without thinking so that the droid could keep up with him.
"Major Kalonia just commed—she'd getting ready to wake Finn up."
The droid bleeped excitedly. [Good! Finn will be glad to know Starkiller base is gone.]
"Yeah, no kidding." Poe agreed. He wanted desperately to hear from Finn what had happened to him on Starkiller Base. He knew only that he and Rey had faced off against Kylo Ren, and that Rey had, amazingly, defeated him. A shudder curled through Poe's body as he remembered the searing pain of Kylo Ren forcing his way tortuously into his mind and thoughts. How Finn and Rey had managed to fight him, a beast who could freeze bodies and blaster-bolts in midair, was absolutely beyond Poe.
BB-8 was relieved when they reached the mercifully flat landing and hallway that led to the medbay. The room was large and open, though dimly lit. There were few partitions, and these screened the beds of only the most grievously injured. Clear displays glowed gently from bedsides, tracing the blue zig-zags of heartbeats, the steady flow of blood pressure, and the functionality of lungs. Poe walked quietly through the room, careful to avoid the tubes and wires that fed into life-support systems and patients alike. BB-8 took a longer path around, wanting to risk no hurt to slender wires in rolling over them. Poe found Dr. Kalonia peering into the display that stood to the right of Finn's bedside. Her long, gentle face was ghostly lit from the wavering, but stable lines. Her dark eyes swept to Poe and she turned from the display, smiling.
"Good, glad you could make it, Colonel." She bustled to a wheeled, metal tray and removed a rectangular device covered in buttons, and calibrated the neuro-reactor for Finn's particular anatomy. Poe watched her fiddle with the device for a few seconds and then looked down at Finn.
He lie as Poe had last seen him, clothed in clean white and absolutely still upon his intensive care pod. The nature of his injury had prevented him from being submerged in a bacta tank—the unstable, free-floating movement could have snapped delicate, exposed nerves like old elastic bands. Because the wound had been cauterized instantly, Kalonia had been forced to perform the complex surgery of re-opening the gash and its severed nerves, veins, and blood vessels so that it could heal properly. Poe had felt sick when she'd told him that. After the surgery, the wound had been coated with a form of bacta-gel to facilitate the reconnection of nerves and tissue, and then tightly bound. Dr. Kalonia was unsure if the treatment would be successful—she had never before treated the victim of a lightsaber strike, much less a lightsaber strike to the spine.
Poe's stomach tightened fearfully as he looked into Finn's peacefully resting face. What if Finn couldn't walk? What if he was paralyzed? He'd have to get some sort of cybernetic implants, and the rehabilitation would be long and horribly painful. Come on, buddy… Poe urged as if the other man could hear him, and as if it would do any good, come on, you're gonna be alright.
Kalonia knelt forwards, bringing the neuro-reactor to Finn's left temple. There was a soft buzzing and then Finn's eyes slowly opened. Poe took a step forwards, his hand on Finn's arm as the ex-trooper came blearily out of his coma. Finn groaned slightly as a dull ache worked through his back and joints.
"Don't sit up, Finn. Just move your toes for me, if you can." Kalonia said.
"Where am I?" Finn slurred thickly. It took a while for the dark room to swim into focus. It was like looking through a greasy pane of glass. He saw the ghost-pale form Kalonia standing beside him, carefully studying the glowing display. He thought dazedly about his toes, and why anyone should want him to move them, and what a strange request that was. But the command left his brain all the same, and first right and then left, he was able to do as Kalonia asked. He watched the doctor smile as if in slow motion. It took years for both ends of her mouth to lift. Finn felt a dull, squeezing pressure on his arm and turned his head as if it weighed a thousand pounds. Poe's concerned face swam into focus like a dream, pale, and drawn, his dark eyes intense and frightened. A small, confused smile came to Finn's lips. "Poe?"
"Hey, buddy." Poe breathed in relief, his grip tightening on Finn's arm. "How're you feeling?"
BB-8 burbled a greeting, but the mechanical notes were lifted up and swirled and merged into the gentle beeps of life-support systems, and were lost in the depths of Finn's mind. He closed his eyes again, caught for a moment in the dull, comfortable space between sleep and wakefulness. When he opened them, the blurriness had sharpened into concrete forms and shapes.
"Life-signs are steady and he's coming out of it nicely. He's a lucky man." Kalonia smiled at the display. She turned to Poe. "I'll leave you two to talk—but not for very long. He needs to rest up yet. And keep him from moving; he's scarred over, but just barely."
"Right, thanks Major." Poe nodded as she wheeled her tray of equipment to the next patient. He pulled up the chair he'd been occupying off and on for the past week and sat near to Finn, watching as slow consciousness pooled in Finn's dark eyes.
"Poe…what happened? Where am I?" Finn slurred, still feeling that he was half in a dream. His mouth seemed heavy, rubbery.
"You're at headquarters, on D'Qar." Poe answered. "Finn…we did it. We destroyed Starkiller Base." He smiled then, so hugely relieved at Finn's awakening and the destruction of Starkiller that he could hardly contain it. He found his eyes were glossy.
"We…that's right!" Finn gasped suddenly, jolting into full awareness as if he'd had a vat of ice-water poured over him. He moved to sit up but cried out softly, grimacing as pain swarmed up from his spine. Poe was standing in an instant, gently but insistently pressing him back against the bed.
"Easy, Finn. You can't move yet, you can't get up."
Finn's face was twisted with wild worry, and the beeping of the display sped. "Rey, is she alright? Kylo Ren, he—"
Poe cut him off, taking Finn's hand as he sat down again. "It's okay—she's fine." He squeezed soothingly. "She defeated him. General Leia said she used the Force. She was strong enough to stop him."
A shaking breath tripped out of Finn's mouth. "Really? The Force? That's…that's incredible! I knew there was something special about her. But…where is she?" His eyes swept the room and there was a note of sadness in his voice, as if he'd expected her at his bedside awakening as well.
Poe forced himself to ignore it. "She left yesterday morning. You'll never guess where she's going." He smiled.
"Where?" Finn asked, his eyes locked desperately on Poe's.
"She's going to train with Luke Skywalker. She's going to bring him back to us, and become a Jedi herself." Poe nodded, still amazed. "We've finally got some hope again."
"Luke Skywalker," Finn murmured in confusion. "But, I thought BB-8 only had part of the map?"
"He did, but Luke's old R2 unit woke up and guess what he'd been cataloging for all those years he'd been in low power mode? The rest of the map he'd lifted from the Empire I don't know how long ago."
Finn's mouth hung open, his eyes widening comically. "So…we did it? We really did it?"
Poe nodded with a knowing grin, squeezing Finn's hand again. Finn could feel something welling up within him, and his mouth trembled. He was crying suddenly, a huge weight he'd never expected to be rid of suddenly falling from his shoulders.
"It's gone," He choked, raising a half-dead arm to wipe at his eyes. Poe watched him with pity and understanding. Finn gripped Poe's hand tightly, as if it were an anchor he could moor to. The last shackle of Finn's previous self had fallen free, the weapon that had represented fear, self-loathing and the impossibility of escape or of true change. It was gone. Finn felt suddenly like a child, could feel the universe thrumming with limitless, bright possibility. All he had to do now was reach out and accept whatever version of himself he wanted to be.
A laugh burst through Finn's sobs, and then he was laughing as if a fountain of mirth had surged free from a well deep within him. He laughed himself into silence, shaking slightly, heedless of the pain in his back, and he looked up into Poe's grinning face. "We did it." Finn breathed
"We did it." Poe agreed warmly. "The General gave a huge ceremony when we got back—I wish you could've been there, Finn." He shook his head slightly. "She gave a whole speech about you; about how brave you were to save me and escape the First Order, about how you and Rey helped BB-8, and how you gave us the intel on Starkiller base. It was good stuff—way more inspiring than what I just said."
"Really?" Finn asked. This was more strange and alien than the fact of Starkiller Base's removal from the galaxy. No one had ever made a speech about him; those traits that the Resistance extolled had been liabilities in the First Order. It was mind boggling to picture people cheering for him.
"Yeah. Also, you've got a few medals. We'll get them for you when you're up."
"Medals?" Finn gaped.
"Of course. You're a hero now, Finn."
"Huh." Finn looked away from Poe and up through the ceiling. "That's crazy."
"Me and Rey got a few of our own too."
"Really? Well, of course you did, you're a commander." Fin smiled, yawning, tired in spite of himself. "But good," he nodded, "I'm glad Rey got some medals too, after what she did." He shook his head hollowly. "I thought for sure Ren would kill us both."
"No on both accounts, thankfully. And it's Colonel, now." Poe arched a brow.
"Colonel? Nice! So—how'd it happen? I remember Solo…" he broke off suddenly, his eyes focusing urgently on Poe. "Poe—Solo—he died down there."
"We know…Rey told the General everything."
Finn nodded mutely, his mouth working. Solo had been gruff with him, but honest. Almost how he imagined a father to be. It stung to have lost him so quickly. "Did it help? Setting those charges around the thermal oscillator? It was his idea."
"It saved the day. We must've done ten attack runs on that thing and we couldn't put a dent in it." Poe shook his head. "We were getting picked off like flies. Honestly," he admitted for the first time, "I didn't think we'd make it. But those charges opened up a hole for us. I got in took and it out."
Finn huffed a laugh through his nose. "Of course it was you." Finn yawned suddenly. "One hell of a pilot. The best…" His voice trailed off as sleep reached out for him.
Poe smiled, satisfaction coursing warmly through his veins. Finn's easy praise blew all the accolades and medals he'd ever received out of the water. He was glad of Finn's hand, glad to the depth of his being that Finn had woken up, and that he was whole. Impulsively, he leaned forwards, one hand on Finn's shoulder; the other still clasped around the ex-troopers hand, and lightly he pressed his lips against Finn's.
Nearly asleep, Finn felt the gentle pressure. It made him smile slightly and the thought that's nice drifted hazily through his mind and then he was asleep.
Poe pulled away, his eyes sweeping over Finn's face. He wondered if he should have kissed him. It had felt right to do so, but he worried that perhaps Finn would see things differently when he woke and had had time to think about it. If Finn remembered it at all. Well, too late now. He mused. He turned at the sound of light footsteps. Dr. Kalonia emerged, holding a datapad in her hand.
"I was just coming to split you two up." She gave him a sardonic smile. "He's doing alright, then?"
"Yeah," Poe met her knowing glance with uncharacteristic bashfulness, though he kept hold of Finn's hand. "Pretty happy about the whole 'Starkiller Base' thing."
"That should go without saying." She motioned Poe away from his bedside, and pilot and droid followed after her as she led them back to her main station; a circular desk of monitors and display grids at which some of her aids sat hunched over delicate medical instruments or studying incomprehensible test results. Poe tore his eyes from them and looked up at Kalonia.
She held the slender datapad before them, and on it was a live image of what Poe realized was Finn's skeletal and neural systems. What looked almost like blue static flowed from his skull down to his toes. It reminded Poe of vids he'd seen of blood cells coursing through a vein. "So far it looks like the electrical impulses are traveling freely through his spinal cord. It doesn't seem that he will have any lasting impairments."
"That's good," Poe breathed.
"He'll always have a rather large scar, though." Kalonia pointed out.
Poe shrugged, "I don't mind scars."
She grinned. "I didn't think you would, Colonel. Shall I alert you when he's up and about?"
Poe nodded, aware of a blush creeping hotly across his face and glad of the half-darkness. "That'd be good. How long do you think…?"
"In a few days, I'd imagine. I want to do one last check on his scar, and run him through some routine sensory tests to make sure his nerves are functioning. After that, he's free to leave—though the rehabilitation process may be lengthy."
Poe nodded, biting his lip somewhat. "Thanks, Kalonia. I'll see you later."
"Until then, Poe."
Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Will Finn remember that kiss? Will Kalonia be snarky? Tune in next time to find out. -Bluestem