{All of the credit goes to thechippingfeels on tumblr, who was kind enough to let me borrow this idea and run with it.}
To say that the aftermath of the Starkiller Base mission is a blur would be an understatement. After landing his X-Wing and shedding his helmet, the first thing Poe Dameron does is skirt around the throng of waiting people to follow after the injured Finn. He gets a hasty explanation from Chewie and the medical team that met them upon touchdown as they rush towards the medbay. The technical terms they use are completely lost on him, but what he does understand is still upsetting. Lightsaber and severe burn and possible spinal damage. He doesn't realize that they've reached the triage area until a hand on his chest bars him from taking another step.
"Commander Dameron, we can take this from here."
He tries moving around the medical droid blocking his path, but has no luck. Over its shoulder, he watches as a nurse and two other droids carefully turn Finn over to assess the damage on his back.
"Would you please just let me through? He's my friend, I can't leave him."
"Please allow us to do our jobs," the droid insists, only turning away when Poe sighs and makes to leave. Something he hears catches his attention and causes him to glance back towards the small group.
"Dispose of this, it's no good to anyone," a blue-skinned nurse says as she hands his old flight jacket off to a nearby figure. Poe deftly sidesteps his former guard to grab at the garment before it has a chance to disappear.
"Let me take it, he'll want it back later."
The nurse gives him a withering look, but relinquishes nonetheless. Poe allows himself to be ushered out of the room, the jacket clutched tightly in his hands as a curtain is drawn across the medbay entrance. Some of the celebration has filtered into the base's interior, and he's clapped on the back and repeatedly congratulated as his friends and teammates pass by. He pays attention to little of it, only peeling his eyes off the curtain to look down at what's in his hands. A single gash stretches through the tan leather from waist to shoulder, its edges singed and puckered from the distinctive bite of a lightsaber blade.
If the jacket is this damaged, Poe can only imagine what Finn's body looks like underneath. His fists curl around the tattered fabric, and he's once again itching to find Kylo Ren and tear him to pieces. He's left countless scars across the galaxy, just like the one that would no doubt always mark Finn's back. Like the ones that he'd carved into Poe's mind with his twisted version of the Force.
Eventually, the other members of his squadron manage to pull him away from his post and get him involved in some of the festivities, which consist mostly of drinking and storytelling. He plays along as best he can, though his heart isn't in it.
The jacket never leaves his grasp.
That night, with a borrowed needle and thread, he begins his self-appointed task. In the light of his quarters, the jacket somehow manages to look even worse, but Poe refuses to dwell on that. He can fix it. From the corner, BB-8 offers encouragement every time he pricks his finger or has to rip out the stitching and start over.
Eventually, after a few hours of work amount to little more than bleary eyes and messy stitches, he calls it quits. He can't save everything. The jacket feels like a summation of the past few days; good intentions gone wrong.
He goes to bed with accidental needle jabs littering his hands, the only real mark of his attempt.
He's perched atop his X-Wing about a week later, clothes splotched with grease and attention focused on the components beneath a removed section of metal, when Rey approaches. Her presence is announced by BB-8, who immediately drops what it's doing to bombard the girl with a series of trills and beeps. Poe glances up and grins when he realizes who his visitor is, then tightens one last screw before descending the nearby ladder to greet her properly.
"Leaving already?" he asks as he grabs a rag to wipe his hands with, though her appearance clearly hints that she's prepared for travel. Rey stands from where she'd been crouched beside BB-8, much to the droid's disappointment, and nods.
"I have the map and the Falcon, and it's as good a time as any. Besides, I think General Organa wants answers just as badly."
Although Rey and Leia certainly have more at stake than most, everyone is desperate for the truth. He isn't sure what else to say as Rey glances around the hangar. Then her eyes land on the jacket folded up on top of his toolbox.
"You took it back? I was wondering what happened to it."
"Nah, I'm just borrowing it for a while. Thought I could try to patch it up for him, but it turns out I'm not the best seamstress."
"Put a patch on the inside with some adhesive. You'll probably have to cut open the lining a bit, but that should be easier to stitch up," she says. Poe is about to question how she became an expert on jacket repair, but Rey smirks before he gets the chance. "You'd be surprised how many things you learn to fix as a scavenger."
He thanks her happily, and she ducks her head and tells him that it's no trouble. When her gaze meets Poe's again, however, her expression is markedly more serious.
"You'll take care of Finn, won't you?"
There's something so incredibly sincere in her voice that if he wasn't already planning on doing that, he might be compelled to lie just to spare her feelings. As it is, he responds with a soft smile and a nod. Rey looks immensely relieved, and Poe is once again reminded of her love for the ex-Stormtrooper. He places a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"Be careful out there. Once he's up, I'm sure he'll be asking about you. Make sure there's good news to give him."
In a surprise move, Rey pulls him into a slightly stiff but incredibly genuine hug. Poe hadn't pegged her as one for contact in general, but the way she wraps her arms around him says otherwise. He tentatively returns the gesture, though he's quick to end it when she starts to pull away.
"Take care of yourself, too," she adds as she steps back. "He'll want the both of us to stay safe."
After saying goodbye, Poe watches the former scavenger head towards the Millennium Falcon with BB-8 trailing along behind her. Just before he's about to resume his work, he ducks under the wing of his fighter and calls out to her retreating form.
"Hey, Rey! Good luck! And may the Force be with you!"
She pauses to look over her shoulder and wave at him one last time. Poe grabs the tool he'd set down and climbs back up onto his X-Wing. When the distinctive sounds of takeoff rumble across the base, he tells himself that there's no reason to worry. Rey will be fine.
They'll all be fine.
Little by little, he pieces the halves of the gash back together. A few other pilots and Resistance members offer their advice, which Poe gladly takes and incorporates into his work. What results is something that almost resembles the original jacket, if one were to squint their eyes and ignore the details. It isn't lined up perfectly, and with one side left to hang a few centimeters lower than the other, it won't ever match its former glory.
There's something therapeutic in that, though. Battered and tattered, through hell and back, but still in one piece. That describes the jacket, but it's Finn and Poe and Rey and half the people on the base, too. A little scuffed, a little worse for wear, and definitely not the same now as it was before. But it's here. It's lived to fight another day.
Kylo Ren cannot destroy everything. Jackets and pilots and Stormtroopers and orphaned girls with loving hearts have all evaded his grasp.
He stitches and glues and starts piecing himself back together, too.
After receiving new orders, the first thing Poe does is take the completed jacket and head to the medbay.
"They're sending me off on another mission tomorrow," he explains to his friend's still form. "Nothing major, just a little recon around the Unknown Regions to see if the First Order is still snooping out there. Shouldn't take too long, but I... I won't be around for a while."
He tries not to be disappointed when Finn doesn't stir in the slightest. Based on the readings the medical droids have taken, it could be some time before he wakes. Despite the fact that they insist that his recovery is proceeding as expected, Poe finds the passage of time and lack of concrete information unsettling.
The weight of the jacket in his hands reminds him of his main reason for visiting.
"I figured you'd want to hold on to this while I'm gone, though."
It's always cold in the medbay. It keeps the droids and the other machines from overheating, plus it probably helps prevent germs from spreading or something like that. There's no chair to hang the jacket from, and if Poe feels the chill, then maybe Finn does, too, so he lays the worn leather garment across the other man's torso like a blanket. The back panel faces the ceiling, which leaves the imperfect patch-up job in plain view. It occurs to Poe that the gnarled ridge in the fabric might dredge up bad memories for Finn, but somehow he thinks that losing the jacket altogether would be less preferable. He reaches down to give Finn's hand a gentle squeeze.
"I'll be back soon. Don't get into too much trouble without me."
As he leaves, he tamps down his feelings about not getting to see those warm brown eyes as a sendoff.
When he returns to D'Qar, it's business as usual. He makes himself presentable, then heads to one of the conference areas to make his report and endure a debriefing. It's all part of the routine, and his mind wanders elsewhere. He answers what he is asked and relays every detail he can think of, but his foremost concern is getting back to Finn's side.
When the meeting is finally adjourned, General Organa holds Poe in his place with a request to speak to him for just a moment. He can't exactly say no to her, so he waits while everyone else filters away to resume their duties until only the two of them are left.
"Is everything alright, Poe?" she asks with a quirked brow. "You aren't usually this tense after a mission."
"Perfectly fine, ma'am," he insists with a half smile. Still, he makes an effort to relax his posture and ease some of the worry out of his features. Leia doesn't look convinced.
"I trust you to be honest with me at all times, Commander Dameron," and he can't help but feel like he's being scolded now, "so if something went wrong out there, I expect to know about it."
"It's nothing like that, honestly." Because it isn't, but how can he explain the reason for his behavior without sounding like a complete fool? "My report was complete; you have my word on that. I've just been... worried, about Finn. That's all."
The General has always been a difficult read. Her upbringing taught her how to be poised and diplomatic, but life taught her how to remain cool and collected in the face of just about anything. While she isn't cold, she is well trained in the art of holding herself together. And yet Poe catches something akin to soft reminiscence in her expression. It's gone in a heartbeat and is replaced by a teasingly stern narrowing of her eyes.
"Well, what are you standing around here for?" she reprimands him. "Your patient is waiting for you."
"Right, uhm, well..." Use your words. "Thank you, General Organa," he manages to get out. At the last minute, he remembers to give a quick and mostly respectful bow. The fondness in Leia's eyes is impossible to miss now as she shoos Poe away with a hand. The pilot doesn't have to be told twice.
The atmosphere of the medbay is as chilled and sterile as ever. He picks his way around chairs and cots and medical equipment in a pattern that's become mostly rote. When he reaches the place where Finn should be, where he's always been, however, he is greeted by an empty bed and unplugged monitors. For a nerve-racking moment, he's sure of the worst, but then a familiar voice calls to him from a few feet away.
"You looking for me?"
It might be clichéd to say that Poe's face lights up at the words, but it would certainly be an apt description. His smile as he turns around is bright enough to rival the twin suns of Tatooine, and he quickly covers the ground between himself and the other man.
"Finn, buddy, you're awake!"
"Yeah, have been for a couple days," he replies, repositioning himself on the bed as Poe settles on the chair next to him. Judging by the fact that all of his limbs seem to be in working order, the pilot figures the lightsaber blow did no dire damage. That thought comes as no small relief. "I got moved over here once I could sit up on my own. They told me you'd gone out on a mission and that Rey left to find Skywalker and that Starkiller Base was destroyed, but they won't-"
"Hey, hey, take it easy," Poe laughs. "We've got plenty'a time to get you up to speed on everything. All that matters right now is that you're okay, and that- you're wearing my jacket."
He's just as surprised as he was the first time. And okay, Finn's not wearing it so much as it's loosely draped around his shoulders, but that's beside the point. Just knowing that he kept it warms Poe's heart, especially when Finn pulls it tighter in an almost protective way.
"The nurse kept trying to get me to throw it out. Of course I said no, because it's really the only thing I've got... and I thought maybe you'd want it back."
"I told you, Finn; keep it. The nurse, was she kinda short, blue-green skin?" Finn nods and Poe laughs again. "She's been tryin' to get rid of it since they brought you in. Guess she's not impressed with my handiwork."
Finn sheepishly rubs his thumb over the cuff of a sleeve.
"You fixed it? For me?"
"With Rey's help," Poe explains. "She gave me some pointers. Without her, I probably would've butchered it much worse than I did."
"Thanks," Finn murmurs quietly. "Like I said, other than my name, this is... it's the only thing I have that's really... mine. And the name, I guess I never thanked you for that, either."
Silence falls between them. After what feels like either an eternity or a couple seconds, Poe reaches out to take Finn's hand. He thrills when the other man's fingers curl around his own.
"Finn? I'm glad you're okay."
"Me, too. Not glad that I'm okay, but that you're okay. Well, no, I guess I'm glad that I'm okay, too, but more so-"
Poe cuts him off by leaning forward and planting a quick kiss on Finn's cheek. Almost immediately, he fears that the move was unwelcome, but then Finn is smiling and his grip is tightening around the pilot's hand.
This time, when Poe leans in, Finn angles his head so that their lips can meet.