The same nightmare had been haunting Poe for the longest time. Kylo Ren, prying into his mind again, tearing him apart, only keeping him alive until he had gotten all valuable information from him that he could. Only this time, Dara was prowling behind her brother, dark eyes intent on him. Dressed all in black, a dark look on her face, Poe could tell that this Dara in his dream was a Sith. Poe sat up abruptly in a cold sweat. The sheets were tangled around his body, and Dara slept serenely beside him. Poe felt sick. This nightmare was starting to take its toll on him. He stumbled out of bed, tripping over his own feet several times, and he made his way into the bathroom. He clutched the sink as he turned on the tap and splashed cold water on his face. He felt very ill. He stared up into his reflection. He examined his face closely. His brows were drawn down, but his eyes were wide. His mouth was a thin line of worry. The thought of Dara being on the dark side with Kylo Ren was overwhelming him. He didn't know nearly enough about the sway of the differing sides of the force to be able to say with any certainty that Dara was going to be okay. Maybe he was dwelling on it too much. But he had seen the Dark side of the Force. He had felt its bitter sting, and cold, furious stab.
He ran his fingers through his hair making it sit flat.
"You're overreacting. She's going to be okay. She's not her brother." he told himself, as he stared into his own eyes. His bare chest still had rivulets of the cold water making tracks on his skin. A shiver went down his spine. He gave himself a little grin in the mirror. He was being silly. Dreams were only dreams. He knew it was one thing to say things like that when he wasn't in the grips of terror from said dreams. It was another thing entirely to wake almost every night in a cold sweat. He distracted himself by looking himself over in the mirror. He supposed he was a good looking guy. He had never really stopped to think about it much. He just led with his personality mostly. What if looks really did matter? He remembered the night of the Gala Ball. How so many people seemed to like his appearance. Did Dara like his appearance? Poe turned this way and that, examining his reflection. What if she didn't like his hair? What if she thought he was too short? She was a very tall woman after all. What if his thighs were too big? He turned sideways and grabbed a handful of massive, muscular thigh. He looked silly. Disproportionate. Maybe he should skip leg day more often.
He went back into Dara's bedroom, where she still slept soundly. He stared at her for a time, wondering in absolute anguish if he was her type or not. BB-8 lay dormant in the corner of the room. He couldn't even complain at his droid for comfort. What if he was too good-looking? Some women didn't like pretty men, and Poe thought he had a pretty face. He scowled. He got down on the ground and did some push-ups to make himself feel better. He scowled at the lushly carpeted floor the whole time. He heard Dara stir in the bed, heard the sheets rustling, and heard her yawn delicately. He looked up to see her messy-haired and bleary eyed, with her head propped up on an arm.
"Don't stop on my account. It's a pleasant sight to wake up to." Poe tried to smile at her. "You had another nightmare." she said quietly. Poe stood up and turned his back on her. He was usually an open book. He was actually bad at shutting up about things, usually. But on this topic, he clammed up.
"It's fine. They're only dreams." he said, through gritted teeth. Dara threw the covers off herself, and padded over to Poe, wrapping her arms around him from behind. She didn't say anything, she simply held him. In that moment, he greatly appreciated that she wasn't prying.
"Yes General, I was there for the interrogation." Poe was reporting back to the General, letting her know the interesting piece of information Dara and he had gained the other night.
"Sullust… Very interesting. I'll get my best people to look into it. Dara doesn't intend on chasing this lead up herself, Poe, does she?" The General's image flickered before him. He knew that she was likewise seeing an image of him. He had to sit up straight and pay attention to his body language. He couldn't let the General see her Best Pilot slouching.
"I can confirm that she has no intentions of travelling to Sullust. Infact… She wishes to travel to the Principality of Alderan. Do I have your leave to travel there, ma'am?" He had to ask the General's permission, of course. She was his boss. His commanding officer. He watched as she visibly thought it over.
"I am curious as to why she wants to return there… Very well, Dameron, you have my leave. Your mission remains the same. We will begin formalising a plan to look into Sullust, but should it come to battle, I will require you to come back." Goosebumps prickled Poe's arms. His fingers dug into the cushioning of the seat in the passenger ship. The next stage of war may be set sooner than he had thought.
"Of course General."
"Very good. Organa out." With a slight click, the communication between Poe and the General was ended.
If Poe had his way, he would never have to fight again. If they lived in a peaceful galaxy, he would have been very happy. Poe loved the cause, not the fight. But the galaxy needed people like Poe who were willing to fight for the side of all that was good and right. The First Order wished to control everything. Poe had to fight for himself to be free. He had to fight for everyone in the galaxy to be free of such tyranny. The First Order couldn't get away with needlessly murdering so many people. It made Poe angry to just think about. Poe stood and made to leave. Dara and he would spend a couple more days on Coruscant, then fly to Alderan. Poe was interested to see the place, and see how people reacted to Dara. As Poe shouldered his leather jacket, the ship closing up behind him, he spotted Dara waiting for him.
"Lunch?" she asked with a small smile. Poe's stomach growled in answer. He had never had food like on Coruscant. It paid to be the fake boyfriend of a Princess.