One might imply honesty is a worthless trait to have. Another may think it's a virtue worthy of preserving. Depending on the circumstances, choosing to forgo telling the truth is advised whether it serves as an example of mercy or saving one's skin. What's one more lie to a good-for-nothing gambler that is so deep in debt he has nothing to lose? Is it despicable for a priest to cover up information by claiming that Force is able to heal the most faithful? It's acceptable to tell a white lie once or twice, right?
The point is, Finn has never been taught the importance of truthfulness. In those having been raised in the army, and up to a certain point in Finn, any characteristics deemed positive by an average person - selflessness, charity, open-mindedness - are non-existent. Now he is letting his repressed emotions control him. Anger steered him towards desertion after Slips's death in Tuanul, despair led him to Poe and, most importantly of all, endearment has kept him circling around Rey. The first person ever to treat him like a human being.
The night before, when his two companions had already settled down in the bed, he lay with the thin blanket pulled up to his armpits, staring at the spotty ceiling.
His heart violently beating, the young man murmured his friend's name. A few agonizingly long seconds passed before she hummed in response.
"Why do you want to go back to Jakku?" Finn cringes at his bluntness. "I mean, you're a great mechanic, you could fix any car. Go anywhere you want. Why go back?"
As he felt his stomach sink, in a state of panic, he stupidly blurted out the presumption the had been bugging for a longest time: "You got a family there? A boyfriend- a cute boyfriend?" The last part leaves his lips in a soft, unsure whisper.
"I'm waiting for my parents," the girl replied frankly.
In the moment he was only able to utter a simple 'oh'. Once again, his heart felt the familiar prickle of guilt and his thought took his to a dark place. What if Rey was one of thousands of children snatched from her home, recruited to become a killing machine?
"I don't remember my parents," the young man said awkwardly, sensing her staring even though it was nearly pitch black in the room, her gaze burning scars on his skin.
Maker, he wanted to tell her everything so badly: how terrified he is for her and himself, that he is not who she thinks he is, that he really cares about her. But he didn't. Instead, he just pursed his lips and willed his thoughts to stop bugging him.
Little by little, Finn's paranoia has been getting a hold of him. He's constantly looking over his shoulder, hearing the clicking of Captain's chrome armour, seeing the black, hunking figure of Ren in the corner of his eye. His mind is being swarmed by various scenarios of the First Order's troops getting to him. Swift death at their hands would be merciful.
Han Solo's attitude is not helping matters either. The old man has been giving him the stink eye for a while now and his quips are getting on Finn's nerves. At some point he has figured out Solo knows. He has to. And the old man's sitting on the information just to reveal it later or he's just a cruel bastard and he's just toying with Finn.
In the early hours of the morning Finn and Rey had a quick breakfast. Well, she ate away to heart's content while the young man sat staring at the food with nauseating horror. His mood hasn't improved later while taking care of the chores given to him - helping out in the kitchen, sweeping the courtyard, heaving crates full of alcoholic beverages.
In order to catch a breather, he stops near the entrance to the cellars where most of the supplies are being stored. It is cool and damp down there, a perfect spot to hide for a few minutes, so he figures he'll head there. It's either this or listening to Solo's cryptic comments. 'Women always know the truth.' What is that even supposed to mean?
Although his initial goal has been to relax, he is doing anything but. And, much to his displeasure, more and more people have grown to know about his secret - well, it isn't much of a secret anymore - and it causes the deserter a great amount of discomfort.
But, unlike Solo, Maz Kanata didn't demonise him or play with his emotions by poking fun at him. What she did was sigh heavily and look at him through her freaky lenses with what he supposed was pity.
"I've suspected for some time, yes. Do tell, how long did you intend to go along with this farce? Until they caught you in a lie? Or shot you in the face, perhaps?" she asked dryly.
He had no idea, to be quite honest. He'd thought of various scenarios, some of them plausible, some not so much, but how would he get from point A to point B? How does he go from a fugitive cowering in shitholes like a frightened animal to a functioning person possessing a whole new identity, free of the burdens of being the Order's puppet? Well, with the help of someone, let's say influential, it wouldn't be too inconvenient to let him slip through…
Finn guessed, with a pinch of annoyance, that Maz has somehow sensed his train of thought. Her big eyes made him squirm in his seat like a student getting a reprimand from the principal. She reminded him of Elena. Back in Jakku, without her aid, he would've perished like another piece of trash, buried in the sand, forgotten. She is dead, though, and it was his fault.
"I don't - I don't know! What? Why are you staring at me like that?" he gritted out, defensively.
"I know your type," she simply said and the young man wanted to mumble 'no, you don't' just to spite her. "You're avoiding confrontation, I can see it in your eyes."
That set him off. "How many times do I have to say it? Don't fuck around with the First Order unless you have a death wish! Do you want to die? You have no idea-"
"Do not presume to lecture me, boy," Maz cut him off sharply. He's upset her. "I've lived for many years. I witnessed the Old Republic be brought down by corrupt politicians. Then the Empire got annihilated just so the Great New Republic could be reborn from the ashes. Countless people have visited my castle over the few decades. Not all of them were courageous, seeking the adventure. You remind me of Han so much, in a way."
Cheeks burning with bright red shame, Finn sinks into his seat. He shouldn't have gone to her, what has he done, he was so stupid, so dumb...
"However…" The pause was dramatic and unnecessary. "When I see a lost cause, I don't intend to get worked up about it. You see, as much as I wish I could help every lost soul, it's impossible. And as simplistic it sounds, the only person able to help you is you." Maz stated, causing Finn to frown in apprehension. She makes his skin crawl. He was preparing himself for the worst.
Kanata, in her queer manner, made a noise that was supposed to mimic a whistle, which resonated throughout the cantina.
A hunched individual approached her and lent her his ear so that the woman could whisper something to him conspiratiously. The mysterious stranger nodded, bobbing his small head, making himself appear even more bizarre. Maz sent him away with a flick of her wrist so he hurried off, shuffling his feet. Finn's eyes followed the servant's hunched figure walking towards a table. He began to converse with the patrons sitting at it.
"You want to go? Fine," Kanata's voice sounded clipped, but her expression was composed, betraying nothing of the turmoil inside of her. "Look over there. See the harmless, cool fellow? In the red jacket. Yeah, him. He and his crew will take you anywhere you wish if you're eager to work."
Well, that was easy, the young man thought with relief. As per Maz's instructions, he went and got himself hired. You shouldn't feel guilty, the voice inside his head was persuading him persistently. It's your right to make the decision, you're not obliged to do anything, you owe the rebels nothing.
Finn did, however, feel awful. It's because, deep down in his gut, he realised that Maz was right. The deserter tried to bury the feeling, forget about it and looked forward to his first job ever.
As he approached the vehicles that belong to the smugglers, he felt a sudden surge of weariness. Finn was grateful, really, he was. The deal seemed fair. Katana's little workmate told him they agreed to take him on-board in exchange for physical labour. Besides, the smugglers appeared to be quite friendly - even though he doesn't understand a word they utter - and the prospect of being out of Order's reach made him feel giddy.
Just as the memory of the morning's events starts to wash away, the young man opens his lids to blinding white light. Trying to cover his eyes from it, he turns his head to the side. Rough material of a sack the ex-trooper has leaned on scratches his cheek. His face is still exposed to sweltering heat so he tries to sit up. Although his limbs seem heavy and deaf to his commands, the young man manages to prop himself up.
It turns out that the source of the stream of light comes from upstairs. Squinting slightly, Finn notes the cellar door is open. He must have forgotten to lock it on his way down then dozed off accidentally. Both praising and cursing his mistake, he climbs up the stone stairs and pushes the door closed this time. He hopes nobody — especially the mean cook — has noticed his absence.
Settling on a black boulder, Finn stretches his aching body with a satisfied hum. He doesn't notice his companion approaching, but when he opens his eyes he sees Rey's beaming face. She plops down beside him and he gets embraced by the youthful aura of hers. The young man flinches just a little, but she doesn't comment on it. Her lithe body leans dangerously close to his and the colourful dress she has on sticks to the young man's heated skin.
Even though he's been avoiding the girl for hours, she still manages to find her way to him.
"Han offered me a job," Rey says with a hint of smugness. "Running deals with him and Chewie, driving around the country in the Falcon." Finn congratulates her. He's genuinely happy for her. "I said 'no'."
He frowns. "Why?"
"It didn't seem right, is all," She shakes her head slightly in an attempt to forgo the thought and declares sheepishly, still smiling, "I suppose this is goodbye. You'll be leaving soon."
"I'm not going."
In an instant her face goes blank. All of Finn's fears resurface, his heart clenches in anguish, and he is struggling to find the right words.
"What are you saying? You can't just-"
"I'm not who you think I am," he blurts out, silencing her. "A good guy. A hero."
With a bewildered expression Rey whips her head from side to side. "Of course you are! You've lost a friend and now you're being-"
"I am not with the Resistance!" the young man persists. "I'm running from the First Order because I deserted! Look at me. Do you really think someone like me could be anything but a coward?"
It feels as if a dam has broken down inside of him. He's finally able to talk freely. Feeling overwhelmed, Finn tells her everything: that all he knows is the Order, that he's been taught to kill only, why he was in the village of Tuanul in the first place. Still, when he saw the terror inflicted by his fellow trooper soldiers and Ren, he ran. He ran, not looking back, and some form of faith brought him straight to Rey - the kindest, most wonderful person he's ever laid his eyes on.
When he's finished he dares to sneak a glance at his friend. Quite naturally, Rey's freckled face is a blank mask, pale and rigid. She hates him, ke knows, but it doesn't stop him from rushing to explain himself even further.
"I- I'm not…" Finn stutters and swallows the bile in his throat, desperation evident in his voice. "I'm not a killer, never was. I know I can't face the First Order. No one can. If you know what's best for you, you'll disappear too. Because if you don't, you'll get obliterated. Not even Han Solo'll protect you, then."
She recoils from him as if he slapped her. Silence hangs over then like thick fog, weighing down on his shoulders. It has to be like this. Finn can't - won't - be a part of this craziness. He has to leave before it's too late, before he becomes another victim. He's done being pushed around. If being labeled a traitor is what allows him to start anew and take control over his own life, then so be it.
As the young man walks away from the young scavenger, his mind is set. And yet, a sense of foreboding warns him of the impending doom over Takodana and the rest of the country, filling him with anxiety.