Ben – Age 13 (Time period – six weeks after "the Y-wing incident")
Rated T for violence (including a minor)
Sometimes Poe wondered if the Force had his name written down, and he wasn't sure it was dictated as "The Galaxy's Poster Boy". Bad luck trailed him like fleas on a womp-rat. It had to be Ben's doing – something always happened as soon as the kid's shadow twitched.
Poe assumed a headlong flight into a Y-wing's glass pane had covered his disaster scenarios for the entire year. There was only so much the universe could thrust upon an innocuous pilot. Sooner or later Fate had to skip the cataclysm quadrant for one kriffin' day.
Apparently a concussion and six weeks in the medcenter wasn't enough to satisfy whatever absurd "Force-Balance" that hated Poe. He had just graduated to walking with a support. Flying was out of the question for another eight months. Ben was a helpful, frantic little mooka who flinched every time Poe stepped on a floor crack. Poe was finally outside for the first time, soaking in the wan sunlight flickering past storm clouds, when sharp pain lanced his neck. Seconds before he could shout, Ben toppled, and grey enclosed Poe's sight.
Luck didn't care much for the Dameron line.
"Poe!"
The shrill, cracking voice, trapped in the hilarious stage before the vocal chords deepened, towed Poe from the comforter of darkness. His head pounded.
"Stop," Poe murmured thickly. "Lemme sleep." His 'S's still sounded like a drunken slur. Stupid concussion.
"Poe!" Ben's demands had been scarce since Poe was hospitalized, and he scarcely raised his voice anymore. The sudden panic was overwhelming. "Poe, you can't fall unconscious again!"
"Wha'?" He wasn't unconscious. Ben just didn't understand the power of sleep – and Poe needed as much sleep as he could get. The medical droid had told him so. "Yur not s'posed to bug me, 'member?"
"Poe Dameron, you open your eyes right now!"
The half-squeaked order, as the kid's voice ranged from high-pitched to low in three octaves, woke Poe in a fit of giggles.
"S'rry," he apologized instantly, blinking in the dark room. "M'not laughing at you."
"Poe." The exclamation was of choked relief, and Poe finally clued in that something was wrong.
It's dark, he realized uneasily. I don't recall returning to my room. Did I forget an entire afternoon again? He hated unconsciousness.
"D'I fall down?" Poe wondered.
"You didn't fall, you fool!" Now Ben was angry. That wasn't very fair. "We were both captured."
"Oh, yur kiddin'me," Poe groaned. "No games, Ben. Pls."
"I'm not playing, Poe!" Ben shouted. "Lift your hands and see for yourself. They cuffed you, too!"
Wait, what? Mystified, Poe twitched his left wrist and felt metal shift as his right wrist followed. "I'll be daft."
"You are daft, Poe."
That hadn't been Poe's choice phrase, so the kid didn't need to tease him for it. It was Ben's fault that Poe had learned to botch profanity. (Mothers were terrifying, and Leia had proved one trick with the Force – she could soap a man's mouth without a twitch of warning.)
Rationality was clouded and Poe struggled to push the trivial memory aside. Gotta think. Energy cuffs. Captured. Ben, too. Who took us, and why? How did they get on base? What would they….
His thoughts faded and he clawed at the horrible nothing that replaced them. Shuddering, Poe cradled his head as best he could. Why'd it have to be now? Can't even think of an escape plan…
"Poe?" Ben's voice took on a worried pitch. Shuffling noises drew closer, before thin hands patted Poe's face. "It's hurting again."
It was a statement; Ben already knew. Exposed, Poe reluctantly grunted in confirmation.
"I'll get you out of here," Ben swore in a quavering tone. "Just don't fall asleep. Promise, Poe!"
"Mm." Funny how the walls spun even with his eyes closed. He hated concussions.
"That doesn't count!" Ben rocked Poe's shoulder and the pilot moaned.
"Kay… pr'mise. Stoppit, Ben."
Inhaling raggedly, Ben latched onto Poe's sleeve. "I – I think Luke knows we're in danger. He'll be here. Just hang on."
Fear leeched from the kid. Disjointed in mind as he was, Poe still had to take control.
"Kay. Calm down, Ben. S'okay." Just flares behind his eyelids that told him that their captors hadn't been gentle throwing them inside this dingy cellar, that's all. "Contact Luke." The Force was like a communications hub, right? The notion seemed viable.
Blankness stole his vocabulary again. Thinking too much was a crime these days.
"I – yeah – I'll tell Luke." Ben breathed deeply, and Poe hoped the magical Force connection would span however many star systems they had crossed.
"I think it worked?" Ben stuttered. "I mean, I can sense the Force – I think it reached him."
He was unsteady; wavering. Poe didn't have enough strength for them both.
"M'falling 'sleep now," he warned Ben. "Wake up soon… promise…"
"Dameron, don't you dare!" Ben shouted. "Poe, wake up! I'll tell Mother you're disobeying the medical droid. You can't sleep now, Poe! Poe!"
He woke to rough hands yanking back his hair, and Ben screaming.
"Let him go! Let go, you – " The following Dantooine slang was vulgar even to Poe's numbed senses. "I'll kill all of you! Poe!"
"Enough!" a deeper, croaking voice shouted, before there was a crack and a cry of shocked pain. "Remove the mutt."
Forcing crusted eyes open, Poe searched the blurred shapes. His head lolled and he snapped upright in terror. Can't lose it now! What're they doing? Ben?
"Get your hands off me!" Ben screeched. Poe squinted at the writhing, kicking form and then ducked as a holocam flashed in his eyes.
"Send this to the Jedi." The speaker was a pig-like bipedial; that much Poe could differentiate. It looked almost feminine, but he couldn't be certain; foggy heads were terrible when it came to guessing genders.
"Le'm go," Poe murmured as Ben continued to screech. They weren't hurting the kid – Poe could easily pick out the 'I will personally slay you' hollers compared to the shrill 'I'm hurting and someone will pay for this' whines. "Let… Let'im go."
The lights blurred again and Poe heaved, gagging bile beside the pig's boots. A heavy foot slammed into his sternum and he choked.
"Stop it!" Ben shrieked as Poe flopped onto his side. "You filthy sleemo! I'll make you regret this!"
Coughing wet strands, Poe curled into himself to block out the noise. There should be … things flying, he noted distantly. Something always shattered when Ben was upset. Why's he holding back?
Enraged gnashing and scrabbling slithered past the haze in Poe's mind. Vainly he tried to raise himself to his elbows. "Let th'kid go," he whispered.
Either Poe was unheard or ignored, as the pig stepped over him and steadied the holorecorder in front of Ben's lashing form. "Send this transmission to Skywalker. We have his apprentice, and the other. Do not offer ransom."
Globous eyes swiveled in Poe's direction before the ringleader ordered, "Kill them both."
"No!" Twisting, biting, Ben reached for Poe in vain. His eyes were frantic and helpless. Finally Poe understood.
"S'okay," he rasped, and somehow above the commotion, Ben heard. The young Jedi's breath caught and Poe forced his mouth to cooperate. "Go ahead. You won't 'urt me."
Swallowing tears, Ben shook his head. "I – I can't! I promised!"
"Ben…" The clouds were drooping again. Poe swung his head upright, fighting for consciousness. "I'm not scared. Jus'do it."
"I can't!" Ben reached out and then screamed as he was pulled back, a blaster shoved behind his head. Poe hollered, his voice no more than a thready gasp. He was yanked upright and rounded metal dug into his throat. Grey sank into his vision once more. Ben! Don't hurt him!
Green suddenly flashed in the fog, and blaster shots ricocheted in swathes of red. Ben wailed and Poe felt his shoulder strike the ground before his head cracked on duracrete. Blackness vaporized his sight.
Ben! He tried to voice the boy's name and his lips only twitched. Tears coursed across the bridge of his nose, dripping into his hair. They can't… not Ben… can't have killed… not Ben… not Ben….
A large, gentle hand cupped the back of his neck, and he fell into the dark.
Hours blurred. Sometimes Poe woke himself, throat raw and eyes streaming, and reached blindly without knowing who he was looking for. Sometimes he lay silent, unable to open his eyes. Afraid that perhaps it was Leia who took his hand in comfort. Afraid of the ravaged loss he might see as she bravely, selflessly watched over the lone survivor.
Most of the time, Poe dazed. Vague shouts and memories clamored in his head. It was easy just to drift in the cold black, as though he had launched into space and forgotten a tether, and was doomed to pass each star until numbness waned into nothing. He knew he was hurting. His head ached less than before, but the hollowness lingered. He wasn't supposed to be dodging kidnappers and fire bolts when he couldn't even walk properly.
He remembered the blaster shoved against Ben's head.
Poe desperately wanted to ask. His throat cracked with the question every time he woke, and every time he let himself fade. He was afraid of the truth. He was afraid of the lies they might attempt before heknew Ben was gone.
So he drifted. A little more aware one moment, a little closer to nothing the next. He was too brain-scrambled to know which direction was right.
Voices called on either end. He could hear his mom; smell the oil residue and the strong, grassy soap she used to remove bloodstains from her uniforms. Once he thought he grasped his father's hand, and shifted to reality only to discover it was someone else keeping him alive.
It wasn't right to wish for death. Life was craved and the thrill of survival bore each pilot through the next air fight. Poe didn't want to die.
He was just tired of never belonging.
"Poe…."
There was blaster ore and leather on one side; the embrace of his father.
"Dameron, this is stupid. Wake up already."
That particular entitlement was on the wrong side of the wakeful zone.
Curious beyond hope, Poe slogged for the sneering, anxious voice. His skull burned and his mind felt too heavy, but just like the anticipation of a cliff spiral on a windy afternoon, inquisitiveness nudged him where kind words had failed. Ben?
"Mother, he twitched! Come quick!"
The clogging mist dissipated and he recognized cold fingers pushing his eyelids up. "Poe? Are you awake?"
"Uh, stahpit," Poe garbled, too feeble to push the intrusion aside. His eyes snapped shut of their own accord, but the hand moved down to incessantly poke his shoulder.
"Poe. Poe, wake up. Poe, stop messing around. You already had one concussion – you're supposed to be better by now. Daft it, Dameron, open your eyes already!"
"That's not… how that curse works," Poe murmured, blinking as the medcenter light finally broke through the haze.
Ben grinned, and the radiance in his eyes was like a glowing lightsaber.
Three times Poe had to be retold the story of their rescue, and he still forgot most of the details within an hour. Han was infinitely patient, sometimes repeating the same facts five times in as many minutes. Leia was infallible when commanding a degenerated Rebel base, but loss of mind unnerved her; she often slipped away while Han reiterated the last half-hour's conversation. It was the concussion, the medical droid told them. Straining himself too soon after the injury had deteriorated the healing Poe had begun, and it would be months longer before he returned to his full strength.
When the memories finally began to stick, Poe learned that his survival was a miracle in itself, and not simply because his brain had almost shut down. Their captor had been a Gamorrean bounty hunter. Her contacts had been Imperial sympathizers – possibly former officers – who had abandoned their location once the Gamorrean was captured. Apparently capturing the grandson of Darth Vader was their primary goal, and Poe had been taken for extra incentive. The Gamorrean was too nervous to keep her quarry alive; had Luke, Han and Leia not combined efforts in the rescue, five seconds would have ended Ben's life.
The situation was too close. Poe was more shaken by the almost, could have been than his own peril. He didn't need to Force to know that whenever Ben visited, Leia was nearby. It was obvious in the way Han's hand lingered when he ruffled Ben's hair; the increase of security droids in the hall.
There would not be another failure.
"They're not just overprotecting me," Ben stated as he refolded his legs in the chair by Poe's bedside. Three weeks after the kidnapping, Poe could finally track a conversation. "They're scared for you."
Brandy eyes gleamed bright and mischievous and unnaturally certain. Poe raised an eyebrow. "What're you plotting now?"
"I'm not plotting anything!" Ben said defensively. "Why does everyone think I mean ill?" The defiance flitted away and the conniving returned as Ben leaned closer. "You know Mother and Father look after you."
"Mm," Poe grunted. The kid tended to ramble about vague concepts. It was easier to give him an amiable answer and let his crippled brain forget the rest.
"So, it's perfect." Ben flipped his legs around and hugged them, rocking back like a satisfied tooka. "I'll tell Mother this evening that we should adopt you."
Poe choked. Spluttering, mind reeling, he raised his head and tried to grasp the casual declaration. "What?"
Ben frowned dejectedly. "How can I say anything important when you're too injured to listen?" Sighing, he slid off the chair and leaned his forearms on the bunk. "I'm going to tell my parents to adopt you. You know they care. Everyone assumes you're adopted anyways, and next time you're kidnapped Father will have an excuse to tell Uncle Chewie to rip the bad guys' arms off."
Poe's eyes were moist, his head pounding, and he couldn't understand why – of all times – the thought seemed imperative. He remembered crushing loneliness when he was trying to wake, and the comfort of a hand always gripping his own. Sometimes it had been smooth and small, accompanied by the subtle hint of lotion and something he could only associate with the smell of dewy grass in the morning. Sometimes it was like the hand that had caught him when he fell in that dark room; broad and calloused, reeking of engine grease and electric burns. The thought of calling them … of having parents… of belonging to someone…
"Poe?" Ben piped in fearfully. "Why are you crying?"
The vision shattered and Poe raised a hand to his face, startled when he brushed aside tears. "I don't…" Gasping, he cleared his throat and choked, "I don't know."
Ben's eyes grew wide and worried. "It's because you think they'll say no, isn't it? I promise they won't! You'll be my brother and Mother will finally have an excuse to forbid you from sneaking out every night. No one will bully you again 'cause they'll be afraid of what my parents will do." He paused for breath and said wistfully, "Luke might let you help me train, then."
Hope burgeoned in a glowing future and Poe reveled in it for a moment. To know that Han was proud of him for more than his capabilities of keeping Ben in line; to endure Leia's fussing and embraces and know she had every right to scold. To return to the Solos every night, not as an occasional guest but as ….
He couldn't finish the thought, and his heart was crushed with it.
"Don't do it, Ben."
The light in Ben's eyes was destroyed. "What?"
Inhaling raggedly, battening down his own dreams, Poe said shakenly, "Don't tell them."
Ben was right. They couldn't possibly say no. Poe was an invalid; dependent. They would accept him out of sympathy, and Ben would be the sole beneficiary. Poe would always wonder if their expressions were hiding pity or love.
"M'not ready for this," Poe explained poorly. "Just… promise not to speak to anyone about it."
Ben opened and shut his mouth, moisture sparking his eyes. "But … I thought you'd want it." His voice hitched and he backed away, stumbling on his own feet. Focusing on the ground with a deliberate swallow, he turned and ran.
Ben's visits were constant afterwards, but awkward. He never brought up adopting Poe again, even in fun. Poe himself was too uncertain to broach the possibility. He buried it down with his childhood dreams of finding his mother alive.
When he was well enough to take his first flight eight months later, and the Solo family escorted him to his X-wing; when Han slung an arm over his shoulders as though he was already part of the family, Poe almost hinted to Ben that he was certain they would say yes.
He was too scared of being wrong.
Years later, when Leia nursed the wound of her lost child and Han walked away, Poe knew he had jeopardized his last chance.
Have some angst.
For the record, I did watch Force Awakens again with Poe and Ben in mind. I didn't need a tissue, but I did take Kylo Ren more seriously... until he removed his helmet. No hope for little Benny after that. :/
I was occupied away from the computer during the weekend and I may have double-responded to a couple reviews. Thank you to Pinky-chan2, Elleth of Mossflower, FoxfaceFan1, Space Opera Singer, BlackxValentine, Agent ERA, CrazedFangirl13, manapi, Real1Swear, AKLNxStories, Lazerkat, Begoogled, time2read, CatWingsAthena, FreelyBeYourself, Nadreth, hannahinthesky44, La Vik, and SilverclawRose for reviewing!