Anchors

Chapter 6: Some Fairytale Bliss

Hux is dreaming of his mother.

There is no body or even an outline or shape, but there is softness. It's a softness that cannot be felt from fabric wrapped around shoulders or wind kissing your face. Yet, it is protective and open at the same time.

And she's singing to him.

He can't make out the words—maybe it's some common lullaby most mothers sing to their younglings. Still, the message of the song comes through the timbre of his mother's voice and its gentleness.

Then, the song is over, and Hux is alone again, running down a dark corridor with shiny black walls. His black boots clack crisply on the polished floors. Perhaps he is back on a First Order ship! Then a voice seeps into his mind like mist.

Hux…

The voice makes him pause. It's deep, masculine, and very familiar.

"Who are you?" he whispers.

The voice doesn't immediately answer back, then:

You don't know me?

"No…" At first, Hux is fearful, but then he continues running, turning right, then left, down never ending corridors, hoping he'll find the source of the voice that seems to know him, echoing in his mind.

I will make them pay. They are going to pay for what they've done to you.

"Who are you?!" Hux shouts now, panting, his pace frantic.

Remember me…Remember!

Hux wakes with a gasp, his head pounding, tongue wooly, throat dry. I was drugged, he thinks. He raises a hand, and the chain connecting him to Poe rattles in warehouse. Starlight winks through tiny windows near the ceiling, shining down on the huddled masses, some snoring, others thrashing about in their sleep. Hux can make out Dameron lying a foot away from him, curled on his side, hands stuffed into his armpits for warmth. His face is dirty, and his mouth is partly open, deeply asleep. Hux himself feels quite cozy, and he is about to roll over and close his eyes when he realizes the reason for his comfort: Poe gave him his blanket.

Hux blinks.

The blanket is scratchy and smells worse than a wookie, but it's warm.

And Poe gave it to him.

Inexplicably, Hux begins to cry. Maybe it's because he dreamt of his mother. Maybe it's because the unknown voice that spoke to him was so intimate, so protective. It cared about him, like his mother used to care for him. Maybe it's because Hux is exhausted and still recovering from the brutal competition of Grakkus' arena.

But Poe gave Hux (the Anchor!) the blanket when he didn't have to.

The First Order general digs his fingernails into his palms to fight the emotion welling up and leaking from his eyes.

C'mon, Hux. You're worse than a youngling.

At last, he sniffs and lies on his back, letting out a sigh when, all of a sudden, a familiar and infamous Dubravan fills his sight.

"I'll take that," Lund hisses.

Before Hux's still-sleepy mind can think properly, the yellow-blooded fiend grabs hold of Poe's blanket and flings it away from Hux before scuttling off.

The general's first instinct is to find and wallop the creature, or at the very least chase after him. But Hux stops when the jangling of his chain echoes in the warehouse, causing Dameron to stir in his sleep, whimpering softly. Hux tries to see where Lund could have gone, but the sleeping space is vast. Ultimately, the general chooses to stay put. There are too many sleeping bodies between him and the Dubravan, and he does not wish to wake Poe for something so trivial.

Trivial. Right.

Instead, Hux fights the sedatives still in his system to devise a plan to get the blanket back. He has thought of an idea within five minutes and spends the next fifteen mentally weighing its pros and cons. Then, and only then, does Hux allow his mind to wander once more, preparing the way for sleep.

It's cold in the warehouse without a blanket. Grimly, Hux finds himself pressing closer to Dameron in the darkness. The pilot won't know, after all.

Hux thinks of his plan again, and (for the first time since being chained to another man) he smiles in the darkness.

What the pilot doesn't know won't hurt him.

Finn has almost bitten off all of the skin around his nails by the time the communications link patches through.

The image on his monitor cuts into three pieces, lags, then clears up. And Finn lets out a sigh of relief for the first time since Nar Shaddaa, when everything went sideways.

She's sitting in front of what must be one of the Falcon's monitors. Her hair is pulled back in its regular fashion, and she wears a gauzy grey tunic, but her skin is tan and the fabric cannot hide new muscles that accentuate the curve of her arms.

She's becoming even stronger, Finn thinks fleetingly.

"Rey," he says with another sigh. "Thank the Maker. I didn't know what I was going to do if we couldn't reach y—"

"—I am unbelievably sorry!" she bursts in, and Finn's mouth quirks into a smile because he's missed her. "Chewbacca's been working round the clock to try and patch up this hunk of junk, and I have been occupied with all the problems here. For a diplomatic mission, there has been a shocking lack of diplomacy. Same old problems, of course. But at least families are receiving much-needed supplies after the sandstorms, and the younglings without parents are being looked after, and there are more structures being built for housing and tell me about Poe."

Finn's jaw drops. "How did you…?

Rey scratches her temple, almost distractedly. "I sensed something a few days ago. I tried to get a message through, but our comm's been malfunctioning ever since that run-in with the fleet."

"The fleet?" Finn's eyes go wide. "What happened?!"

There's a loud braying sound that can only be Chewie a few feet away. Rey rolls her eyes. "Tell you later. Tell me about Dameron."

Finn catches Rey up to speed. Even though she tries to appear unfazed at the mention of Kylo Ren, the Resistance captain notes the way her eyes widen and the way she draws her tunic around her, as if it's suddenly chilly on Jakku.

After Finn finishes explaining his options, there is silence. Rey's expression is unreadable. Then she calmly folds her hands in front of her and leans forward, looking deeply into his eyes.

"You must form a plan with him."

"Rey—"

"I know it's the last thing either of us would choose," the Jedi continues. "But if you do not agree to his offer, Kylo Ren will attack Nar Shaddaa with every weapon at his fingertips to get Hux back, and he won't bother to save Poe in the process."

Finn sits back, massages his temples. He can't believe this is happening.

"Ren almost killed me. Rey, he almost killed all of us!"

Silence. Rey's eyes are glassy. She takes a deep breath before speaking, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Do you want Poe back?"

Tears sting Finn's eyes unexpectedly. How long has he been awake? Over twenty four hours, at least. And during this time, he has paced, strategized, and conferred with as many Resistance leaders as he can to make a decision. But more than anything else, he has spent the time missing Dameron.

Finn runs a hand over his eyes and nods.

"Then you know what to do."

Finn nods again, clears his throat. "I love you, Rey."

She beams back at him. "I love you—" Then she's cut off by another bark from behind her. Rey laughs. "Chewie loves you too."

The communication link cuts off abruptly, Rey's smile vanishing into black, and Finn pushes another button on his console. Ensign Crescent's voice is hoarse from lack of sleep.

"Yes, sir?"

"Put a link through to Kylo Ren."

The next day is more of the same, minus the competitions. Hux is exhausted but doesn't show it (or vocalize it) as much as Dameron. The man's incessant commentary is beginning to rub Hux's nerves raw. He had assumed that both men would choose to tolerate each other and train as much as they could individually, but there is no end to the amount of physical tasks that require both of them to rely on each other's wits or muscles to accomplish them…

First: Swimming laps + dog-paddling Dameron = laughingstock of prisoners.

Then: Lifting boulders. Literally. Boulders.

After that: Running twenty miles before lunch, because why not?

Throughout the morning, Hux glares daggers at Lund and Mako, noting the blanket they stole from him and the way they're flaunting it whenever they can in his presence.

The general hisses through his teeth as Mako throws the blanket over his shoulders and prances about with it, apparently imitating Hux. And his concentration is so focused on the Fondorian that Hux jumps when Dameron places a hand on his back.

"What do you want?" the general spits at Poe.

"Woah, woah! Easy, buddy," Dameron says. "I just wanted to tell you to ignore them. They're just trying to rile you up."

"They have succeeded," the red head says with a grimace. "The insufferable weasels! I hope that torture and pain and slow deaths await them in the near future. I hope that—"

"Hux."

The general turns around, faces Dameron. The pilot opens his mouth as if to say more, then he shakes his head and says, "It's just a blanket."

"Just a blanket," Hux repeats in a mumble. "That, my friend, is where you are wrong."

The hours pass by, agonizingly slow. When Poe hauls him over to a water bin after the first half of their afternoon training, Hux is almost gleeful because it is time to put his plan in motion.

Bribing the guards for extra water rations isn't difficult. He'll give them half his food portion in the evening. In exchange, he is allowed to linger a little longer at the water bucket and take slightly larger sips. Everyone else is roughly pushed away after barely a swallow—Poe as well, his dark brown eyes hardening with betrayal—but the commander says nothing to protest the special treatment, and Hux will not explain his plan until the following morning because he knows that Dameron might give him away through blabbing.

And so Hux finds that he is hardly thirsty when evening rations roll around, all according to plan. If he was thirsty at dinner, he would be inclined to drink the drugged water and thus be unable to stay awake after all the other inmates go to sleep, which is what he intends to do.

Hux is very pleased with himself.

Poe picks up on his good mood when the other man catches him smiling to himself over dinner at a table in the shade. The sun is going down, a glowing orange balloon bobbing on the top of the prison's walls.

"What is it? You've got that face again."

Hux shrugs innocently. "I'm not sure what you mean, commander."

Dameron rolls his eyes, rubbing his jaw. He looks completely done in and practically inhales his food.

"Spill it," Poe says, picking up the chain that connects them and waving it back and forth across the table.

Hux exhales with a little puff of air, clamping his hand down on the chain to stop it. He smoothly changes subjects. "I thought training went very well today."

Poe laughs with food still in his mouth (revolting) and begins to chatter about how he has never had a more difficult time in his life and how could you not notice the amount of weights he had to carry back and forth across the yard and blah blah blah.

Hux tries his best to listen, but his eyes keep flashing over to where Lund and Mako are sitting—devious little pissants that they are. And they have no idea what's coming to them. No one steals Hux's blanket and gets away with it—

"Are you gonna drink that?"

Hux's delightfully evil thoughts are rudely interrupted by Poe. The man's eyes are already glazed from the drugged portion of water he was given at dinner, but there's a desperation in his face that suddenly tugs at Hux's innards. Who would have thought that Poe Dameron could look so much like a puppy?

"This?" Hux holds his water cup out, as if he forgot it was right in front of him.

Dameron nods slowly, mouth slightly open. "I'm really thirsty."

Hux flashes a smile that he hopes reads as sincere before he hands the cup over. "Take it. I'm not that thirsty."

Poe hesitates for a millisecond before his basic needs kick in, and he's gulping down the water as if hasn't tasted anything so sweet in his entire life.

In the twilight, Hux offers to take Poe's dishes away. Dameron looks astounded at the sudden kindness and gives up his empty bowl and cups. Together, they float through the gradually quieting prison. Some prisoners have fallen asleep at the tables and are rudely awakened with a sharp kick to their ribs from the guards. Hux hears the faint jingling of chain behind him as Dameron wanders, as if in a dream, eyes drooping from exhaustion and the sedatives. Hux takes advantage of a nearby prisoner fight that distracts his partner to surreptitiously deliver the remainder of his food to the water guards. By the time he's finished, Dameron is leaning against a support beam of the water station, the back of his head propped up, eyes closed.

Hux snaps his fingers in front of Poe's nose, and the commander's eyes open blearily.

"Wha…?"

"Time for bed," says Hux. Then he leads Dameron like a pet on a leash through the rest of the encampment to the barracks. By the time they reach the large building, Poe is swaying on his feet. Hux rushes back before the other man has a chance to trip over the chain, and puts firm hands on his chest and back, supporting him.

"All right, Poe?"

Dameron murmurs something incoherently.

"That's it," Hux coos. "Just a bit further."

Poe leans heavily on him all the way until they get to their spot, which (thankfully) Sharptooth has already vacated. A small tarp is crumpled in an unoccupied space nearby. The FO general picks it up, smoothes it out, then allows Poe to sink down upon it. Dameron curls up and instantly snores.

Hux lies next to him and waits for it to get a little darker in the warehouse. There is a constant low rumble of coughing, snoring, and bodies still shuffling in from outside. Through the maze of prisoners, Hux can just make out Mako and Lund, their bodies huddled amongst the others.

The general waits.

As it grows darker, he takes the chain connecting him to Poe and slowly begins to wrap it around his left arm, careful not to make any unnecessary noise. It feels cool and secure on his skin, like armor.

Once an hour has passed and most of the prisoners are asleep, Hux takes the edge of the plastic that Dameron is sleeping on and begins to drag it lightly across the concrete floor, taking the pilot with it. Poe doesn't even stir with the movement, lips parted, breathing easily. Hux's already taxed joints ache, but his will is stronger than his body. Carefully, he maneuvers himself and Poe around countless sleeping prisoners, sometimes going slower than a crawl.

But Hux is patient. At last, they are near the wicked Dubravan and Fondorian, both curled up beneath his blanket. Slowly, taking care not to rattle them, Hux unravels the chain so that there is a small amount of slack. Then he loops the slack around Mako and Lund's ankles, stands over Dameron's body protectively, and cups his hands over his mouth before screaming at the top of his lungs—

"FIRE!"

Immediate, predictable panic ensues. The prisoners awake, groggy and frightened. They begin stepping over each other in a frenzy to get out of the warehouse. Inevitably, fights break out. It is utter chaos. It is complete pandemonium.

It is perfect.

Hux protects Dameron's still-sleeping form from trampling feet as Lund finally stirs and jerks Mako awake too, their eyes wide open and fearful as others' shouts of fire echo around the warehouse. Still half-asleep, the pair don't notice there is a chain wrapped around their ankles until they stand and attempt to run away.

They immediately fall on their faces.

Hux suppresses a laugh and, instead, jerks the chain backward, causing them to trip again as they attempt to find their feet. In a flash, Hux is upon them, leaning over them, chain rattling threateningly.

"You took something that's mine. I want it back."

Hux knows that on his own, he is not a physical threat, but he is hoping on the hysteria around him to generate the appropriate level of fear in his enemies.

"Take it!" Lund hisses, grabbing the scratchy brown fabric and offering it to Hux. He takes it but doesn't ease up.

Mako whines, "Let us go!"

"One more thing," Hux says, lowering himself until he is breathing into their faces. "There is no fire tonight. But if you ever harm me or Dameron again, you will be burned. Do you understand?"

Mako's eyes flash to Lund. Lund visibly swallows and nods. Hux's chain whips away from them, and they run from his sight. By now, sirens are screaming into Hux's ears, and Dameron finally begins to stir. Hux allows himself a small chuckle and kneels beside Poe. Seconds later, the alarms shut off. He can hear the Lepi from outside the warehouse, screaming for the dayshift prisoners to go back inside.

"Wazzat?" Poe mumbles. His eyes flutter open, unfocused. "Finn?"

Hux cocks his head at the mention of the name. "No, it's Hux. Go back to sleep, Poe."

Dameron's shoves his hands into his armpits, shivering.

The general places a hand on Poe's shoulder, worried that the other man might have gotten injured during the stampede of prisoners. "What's wrong?"

Dameron's eyes are closed now, but his teeth chatter. "So c-cold in h-here."

Hux swiftly takes the blanket in his hands and drapes it over Poe's body. Then he begins to drag Dameron back to their usual sleeping place. Other prisoners are pouring back into the warehouse, some grumbling, most grateful to be unharmed.

By the time Hux drags Dameron back to their original spot, the pilot is no longer shuddering. So Hux joins him under the blanket, completely exhausted and entirely satisfied.

TBC

A/N: I think Hux is channeling Moriarty slightly in this chapter. I know it's been ages since I last updated. Thank you for sticking with this fic! What do you all think? :)