(Before Kylo Ren)
Birthdays were great. A little Corellian "blue fizz", a gathering of friends, greasy foods, hoarse laughter, exaggerated stories, and covert gambling marked Poe's celebration among his peers. He was eighteen and flying his own X-wing, and life was perfect.
And a little dizzying, he admitted when the wall swooped up to kiss his face. Maybe he was a bit tipsy. Ech'ban was pulling out the holocam. Poe rolled his eyes and made a goofy face for the recording.
"Your future wife is gonna love this." Ech'ban snickered.
"Not getting'married," Poe slurred. "M'a pilot! Married ta my new ship. She's beautiful."
Ech'ban looked vaguely concerned. "I think that's probably enough," he warned, indicating the blue, sloshing bottle in Poe's hand. "Your mom's gonna kill me tomorrow, anyways."
Stunned, Poe blinked heavily and sat down. That wasn't a fair dig. "Can't tell her," he said mournfully, thunking the bottle on the seat beside him. "She went down."
Flushing, Ech'ban corrected, "I meant the general." He stood abruptly and hooked a hand under Poe's elbow. "Dameron, you've never tested your limits, have you? Now I feel responsible for all of this and you're – whoah!" He caught Poe before he landed on his face. "Dang it, Poe, General Solo's gonna demote me to ground patrol for this."
"Daft it," Poe corrected, slowly wagging a finger in his friend's face. "It's 'daft it'. Can't say nothin' improbable around th'kid."
Ech'ban nodded. "Yup, I'm doomed. C'mon, Poe. Medcenter is this way. If you sleep it off there, they can handle the hangover when you wake up."
"Corellia's got a weird fizzy soda," Poe reflected.
"It's not fizzy soda, and you drank almost two bottles. We're lucky you didn't let the kid in here." Rolling his eyes, Ech'ban dragged his inebriated friend away from the party. General Solo would have words tomorrow. He just hoped his fellow cadets were coherent enough to take them to heart. Ech'ban wasn't going to be the only one lectured for introducing the Solos' golden boy to a more exciting lifestyle.
Besides, he and Poe had snuck a kyrf behind the barracks when Poe was fifteen. General Solo would understand – after all, her husband was the galaxy smuggler.
It wasn't Ech'ban who was assailed by Leia's fiery tongue in the morning. Poe was standing with a few cadets by a holoscreen, trying to comprehend a sabotage illustration, when he was dragged away by pointy fingers gripping his ear.
"Poe Dameron!"
Blustering, Poe fumbled to steady himself. Mom's mad was his first thought before reality crashed in. Leia stood before him, hands planted on her hips, wrathful eyes scalding her victim. Poe offered a wobbly salute.
"General?"
"I don't make it my business what the cadets do to celebrate – or forget – providing that it doesn't interfere with their performance when I need them. But this," Leia enunciated as she pointed behind her, "Is completely irresponsible of you, Poe Dameron."
She'd used his full name. Twice. Swallowing, Poe followed her indication. He pressed a hand over his face as the other pilots chuckled.
Ben hiccupped slightly and leaned against his mother, his expression blithe. "Mum's mad at you," he said delightedly.
"No," Poe mumbled. "How'd he…?"
"He found this in your room," Leia snapped, holding up a familiar blue bottle.
Poe groaned. Ech'ban must have left it on the bunk table as a "friendly reminder" of last night, and Ben had sampled it without question. The stuff must've tasted pretty good to a sugar addict.
"I can explain," Poe began.
"Oh, I can see for myself," Leia retorted. Ben staggered against her and hiccupped again. Snap was barely holding back his snorts. Eyes narrowing, Leia rapped the empty bottle against Poe's chest.
"Ground patrol. Early morning shift. Three weeks."
Ben giggled.
"Is he singing again?" a brash voice called.
Poe moaned and buried his face in his hands as Han sauntered into the room, brandishing a holocam. Deviously Han acknowledged the pilot circle, then waved to his son and spun in a circle. "Remember how Tie Fighters maneuver, Ben?"
"Han –!" Leia began.
"Vrooooo!" Ben demonstrated, spinning until he flopped into his father. Cackling, he fell sideways and threw up beside Han's shoes. The general squeezed his eyes shut.
"I'll clean it up."
"Oh, I'm sure," Leia snapped as flipped the bottle over to a cleaning droid. "Poe is on babysitter detail tonight."
"Ooh, hangover duty," Snap teased softly.
"As long as he takes a recording," Han interjected. He tossed the holocam to Poe, who awkwardly fumbled a catch. "Be there at eighteen hundred sharp. I want a full report on the little tyrant's first headache."
"Han!" Leia rebuked.
"All right, I'll leave the hangover kit for him." Rolling his eyes, Han gingerly lifted Ben to his feet and escorted him at arm's length. "Hey, you! MSE droid! We need a cleaning crew over here."
"You men can't survive without droids," Leia quipped as she swept past Han. Ben hiccupped.
"Is this the dark side?" he whined. "Luke said it feels ugly."
"That's Uncle Luke," Han corrected. "And yes. This is exactly what the dark side feels like."
"I wanna be a pilot," Ben wailed, much to the pilot circle's chagrin.
Han nodded in rueful agreement. "I want you to be a pilot, too, but your mother and uncle have different ideas."
He paused to the doorway and took a moment to gloat in Poe's humiliation. "Word to the wise, Dameron: stick to the kyrf next time, and don't drink too much."
Poe moaned.
It wasn't worth the night guard patrol, or the subsequent riddling, but he still smiled whenever he remembered Ben imitating a Tie Fighter.
(Aftermath)
When she sensed the fluctuation in the Force and knew that she would never see Han leave again, never hear him say "You'll miss me", or "I know", Leia had to steady herself against the console. She hadn't seen him in years – only sporadically since Ben left – and yet her heart rent as if it had been yesterday when he last kissed her; that morning when he last smiled and said "You can't live without me". They hadn't said "I love you" in years, but neither had let go.
Now she was alone. The Millinium Falcon would return, and Chewie would walk down the plank without a scruffy nerfherder at his side. She couldn't greet Han, or scold, or mock that same jacket he'd worn since Ben's thirteenth birthday.
"They say we live on in the Force." Leia's voice cracked as she looked up into the starry night. "I sure wish I could feel you right now."
She wrapped her arms around herself and imagined his embrace. She was still cold.
Rubbing the ache in her chest, Leia brushed her eyes dry and returned to the hangar. She straightened her shoulders as she entered the bay doors, reverting to the general façade. Her troops needed her equanimity. Many others suffered loss. Leia had thwarted the Empire after the death of her father. She wouldn't quit now.
As though waiting for Leia's re-entry, a rolling globe of orange and white trundled up and bumped against her leg. Poe Dameron, Leia thought with a shake of her head. She crouched and rested a hand on BB-8's dome, doubting it was her imagination that the droid almost purred.
"Where's your pilot?" Leia questioned, searching the hangar. Maintenance crews, a few pilots out of uniform, and sanitation droids bustled around the ships. BB-8 rocked and trilled a few worried notes.
"All right," Leia said, rising slowly as her joints creaked. "Take me to him."
BB-8 rolled straight to the most remote nook in the hangar; the one Leia knew her son and a certain fellow conspirator had graffitied when Poe was not yet fourteen. She should have known he would hunker down someplace familiar. Ducking into the cubbyhole littered with forgotten tools and spare bolts, Leia immediately picked out the dark, tangled hair that so often reminded her of Ben.
Force, that boy was a heartthrob, and yet he still looked like a child, curled up in the clearest space beneath a black outline that vaguely resembled a cowl. Once Leia had owned a holopic of Poe and Ben sleeping against one of the hangar supports, waiting for Han's return. She never forgave C-3PO after he cleaned out her old records.
Losing Ben had broken her heart. Han's death made her believe she could never be well enough to hurt again. But losing Poe….
Scooping up the blanket that BB-8 persistently shoved into the nook, Leia spread it over her pilot and tenderly stroked his hair. Too tuckered out to rouse, Poe mumbled incoherently and nestled into the warmth.
He had often fallen asleep on their couch when he was younger. Bullied by little Ben to stay later than his curfew, and too wiped from early shifts to notice the change in his environment, Poe had spent many a night being tucked in by Leia while Han tossed his boots by the door.
"We should keep him," Han liked to jest when the teen was snugly bundled up. "We have an extra room."
"Don't prod him," Leia insisted. She and Han both understood the loneliness of an orphan lifestyle – Han more than her. He hadn't wanted replacement parents, either.
Poe was independent in his casual way. Every time he fell asleep at the Solo household, Leia felt Ben rouse late in the night and tiptoe to the living room, where she knew Poe was already retrieving his gear. She wished he felt comfortable enough that he wouldn't sneak back to his own room every time, but she couldn't force him to stay. Still, Leia reminisced even now, it would have been nice to call him the oldest son.
Tucking the blanket more gently around Poe's shoulders, Leia backed away and let BB-8 roll past her. The droid cooed in fond comfort and lilted against Poe's side, just enough so that the pilot would know it was there.
He doesn't remember anything, Leia mourned, and that hurt lanced deepest. She had lost Poe after his capture. The relationship he had shared with her and Han and Ben was simply … gone. She made it a practice never to intrude on her crew's minds, but she had sifted Poe's thoughts just a fraction upon his return. Her instincts were correct.
Only mismatched pebbles remained of a riverbed filled with memories.
Upon Poe's return, he had answered her questions in an orderly fashion. How many enemy troops? Did their numbers vary significantly from the spy reports? Could it be possible that other stormtroopers would defect like FN-2187?
Poe had responded like a pilot. Like a loyal soldier of the Resistance. Upon the first personal question, he didn't know what to say.
"Poe… did you see Ben?" Leia had dared to ask. Did he reveal himself to you? Did you even know that Kylo Ren was your former friend? How can I help you?
The confusion in Poe's drawn brow sank her heart. "Was that his name?"
The pain of losing Poe to the First Order never left her. Finn had rescued him from his prison, for certain. He was as steady a pilot as though he had never been captured. Yet Leia knew such bravado was only a shell encasing the hollowness of a stolen life.
Poe Dameron had never returned to her. The last of the Solo family had been destroyed by Kylo Ren.
Not counting the non-reviewer population, there seems to be a 70/30 ratio of those who think Kylo Ren has run into the OOC zone (undeniable) and those who think "Kylo Ben" would be wonderful at this point (no regrets). I took some time to think over the plot spin-off I had pre-written, and I have decided I will continue with the current project. If any reader thinks Kylo Ren has been ridiculed as an antagonist, you're right - I refuse to take him seriously in this plotline (note the "humor" genre) - but feel free to tell me in the reviews.
Thank you to The EarthSong, JunJunyil, CrazedFangirl13, time2read, nerdyninjaunicorn, Begoogled, Lazercat, Ealleth of Mossflower, Space Opera Singer, and guests Da guy next door, Corrine, and Guest for reviewing!