flightforfreedom | A stupid post for stupid threads

Poe wasn't himself the next few weeks. Everyone on base knew it, and everyone had a pretty good idea as to why. He and Finn had been attached at the hip, before that, barely seen out of each others company when one was on base, and now you couldn't find them in a room together to save your life.

Poe always took the most dangerous missions, but something shifted. He was starting to request them, starting to suggest them before anyone else did. Leia quietly spoke to him, but Poe had learned to cope at 8, and there was no way he was letting Leia think there was anything wrong with him.

There wasn't.

But he had one thing that he lived for, now, and that was the mission. That was the fight. And he couldn't take his mind off of it for even a second - so he didn't. He threw himself into his work with an inhuman intensity.

He was good, but he couldn't promise he wouldn't come back dead. And that was what cinched it. For Finn, for anyone. If Poe ever let himself have a family, all he was doing was setting them up to be widowed. Orphaned.

So he owed that to Finn, really. Now he could focus on doing what he did best, and leaving everything else behind. It just would have been better if everything didn't taste like ash in his mouth.

It was a month and a half, when the distress beacon when up. When an X-wing, piloted almost solely by its astromech droid, BB-8, finally jumped back into the star system, and immediately started beaming urgent distress calls to HQ. The other three ships he'd been with didn't make it back, and they had no idea why. They had to go out and get him.

He wasn't in good shape. A laser bolt had torn through one side of his ship and out the other, and him in between. He'd managed to plug the holes in his flight suit with emergency tape - and strap some to the holes, but he had passed out soon after. The cockpit was in near vacuum, when they managed to pick up the pilot.

Poe was almost frozen.

Edited 2016-01-29 02:59 (UTC)

He waited.

No matter what some people may have said, Finn wasn't totally stupid. He wasn't a medic of any shape or size. Could barely wrap a bandage around a wookie's arm without getting his head torn off. He knew his place, and it was waiting for the signal Poe was stabilized, that no ongoing emergency care was needed beyond what the machines could supply. That he wouldn't be in the way, more a burden than help.

That didn't mean he didn't spend that time trying to tear out the punching bags in the gym with his bare hands. Finn couldn't sit and wait, it was a physical impossibility. Any issue always had a solution, that was the way he'd been raised. More training, more conditioning. That was always the answer. So in those hours where he could be nothing but in the way, he'd thrown himself into training like the Republic itself might crumble if he didn't.

At the end, when he'd finally been signaled he could enter the pilot's room, he'd come to a conclusion. He'd been wrong. It didn't matter in the end. He could be in Poe's bed or out of it, but anytime the man was in danger, Finn felt his heart stutter as if he'd been the one shot. He became useless to anything and anyone else. It didn't matter. He was too well and truly lost.

He didn't shower before barging into the room, still dripping sweat and just a little blood from the rounds he'd gone with other members of the Rebellion in the ring. That was all barely a nuisance compared to the need to see Poe, alive if not well.

Finn collapsed into the chair next the bed the moment that life was confirmed, pressing his forehead to Poe's hand. Sitting back up was too much effort, and it didn't matter anyway. Poe was alive.

"...Idiot."

He didn't remember much of the treatment, save that they'd stuffed him in a tank at one point. So when he woke to to door slamming open and someone literally slumped on him, muttering, it took a minute to let it filter through.

Finn. That familiar feeling gripped his chest, that desperate and self damaging desire to just be close. The one that had kept him at least three doors down from Finn at any given time, just to avoid.

His hand twisted, just a little, just to he could weakly brush his thumb over Finn's forehead.

"... Tell me something I don't know," he got out, but his voice was far hoarser, far quieter, than he expected.

Without a word, without a thought, he pressed a solid kiss to the center of Poe's palm. His moving, living palm, and it didn't matter it'd been the better part of two months. What was time in the face of belonging.

But Poe had said something. Even over the pounding of his heart and head he'd heard that. And there was no banter that sprang to mind. No easy, casual answer that would smooth this all over and make things right again in a snap. Poe might have managed it. Poe would have the words. But Finn had to live as himself, with all the limitations that came with it.

"I missed you."

Edited 2016-01-29 03:27 (UTC)

Poe certainly didn't have the words. Not in the face of that. Not how he was - weak, tired, and just back from the brink of death. The weeks between them darted away like dust, and left his heart wrenching.

He tried to wet his lips but his mouth was too dry to allow it. It was meant as a stalling tactic, to let him think up a smart, witty reply that would cement the wall between them and keep it there. But instead his hand just lay in Finn's, and he was silent, for too long.

"... I missed you, too," finally came the quiet admission.

"I'm gonna- look, I gotta say something. Then I'm going to talk about something else. I want you to just talk about the second part, alright?"

He didn't wait for a nod or a tightened grip or any kind of approval. If he waited that long he'd lose his nerve, end up running again like it was easiest to do. But here, now, pressing his cheek back into Poe's palm and closing his eyes, he might just be able to do it. Get it out and move forward, never looking back again.

"I'm the idiot. I worried about you. Every day. Best pilot in the Rebellion, first pilot sent into danger. All those battles, just fighting as hard and fast as I could so I'd get back to the news quicker. Find out how your latest suicide run had gone and- and I just could've been asking you. In your shower, in your room. Watching those ridiculous holovids-"

He let out a laugh that wanted to be really entertained, that was trying for amused, but just came up wet with spit and blood instead. Too many punches to the mouth.

"I can't stop it. You're the first thing I ever wanted to fight for. Not the Rebellion. Just you. And it won't change. So."

He licked his lips, finally lifting his head up to look back at Poe's face. First thing done. On to the second.

"How you feeling?"

The grip did tighten, progressively, as Finn spoke - Poe just trying to breathe. They tightened until someone would need tools to wrench him apart from Finn, this time.

Don't talk about the first part. Just the second. But he didn't care about the second part, and his expression was pained when Finn finally looked up.

"... Can't talk about the second without the first," he said quietly.

And even that was hard.

"... You're the only one I want, Finn." He finally said, ignoring orders. "But you were right..." A breath, long, in and then out. "I'm going to die, Finn. Or you are. That's how this works."

"But we're alive right now."

It sounded stupid even in his ears, no matter how true it was. He closed his eyes to press one more kiss to Poe's knuckles, then summoned the strength to actually sit on the edge of Poe's bed. His free hand- the one not in a vice like grip- came up to brush the sweat matted bangs off Poe's forehead. It wasn't going to be smooth banter, but he could at least manage a small, incredibly fond smile, for the wounded hero.

"Ah, some of us a little more than others."

It would have been laughter, maybe, if his side wasn't so frozen with drugs that his diaphragm could move properly. Instead it came out as a snort.

"I've been worse."

He hadn't, but that didn't matter.

It was surprising how much his chest could hurt, even with all the painkillers. And it had nothing to do with the wound in his side. He was a little more out of it than he should have been, for this conversation - it was a little harder to think straight than normal, but he was doing his best.

He was doing his best, because damn this hurt like a son of a bitch.

He swallowed, trying to get any saliva into his bone dry throat.

"... I don't want to leave you alone," He finally managed to get out. "I don't want to do that to you. I shouldn't have... I should have left it where we were."

Worse would've been dead, Finn's pretty sure, but there's no point in arguing that nonsense. Not when Poe's taking this conversation in a different direction than expected. Finn hadn't expected a parade welcoming him back, not after how they'd left things. Anger he would've understood, but this?

He really was an idiot. Somewhere along the line he'd wrapped himself so tightly in his own issues he missed Poe's.

"At the first friend I ever had?"

There was one small advantage to having this conversation now. Finn could trail his fingers along Poe's cheek without the other man being able to do much about it.

"Nah. I was doomed from the minute I decided I needed a pilot."

Edited 2016-01-29 13:34 (UTC)

"Best friend I've ever had."

His eyelids flickered, hips lips twitching with them, in the smallest smile that perhaps he'd ever given Finn.

It's not like he hadn't done his own thinking, while they were apart. It wasn't like he hadn't spent the weeks turning Finn's words over in his mind and cursing himself for being an idiot. He had known. He had known, and he had still made the mistake.

He couldn't play this half way, and he knew that now. He'd gone and jumped all-in and he couldn't drag himself back out, now.

He might be Finn's first friend, but he wasn't his last. And he knew - in that vague, not-going-to-think-about-it kind of way, that he wasn't even necessarily Finn's best friend. That there was someone else waiting for him.

Someone else who could drag his ass back out of the fire better than Poe ever could.

"... But I'm not all you have, Finn."

It takes him a minute to figure out what in the galaxy he's talking about. Long seconds where he doesn't do much more than trace Poe's face and neck, avoiding any helpful tubes or bandages, while he sorts that statement out.

Ah, right. The one person in the universe that might give Poe a run for his money in dragging Finn into dangerous situations- no, that wasn't right. For walking into them and having Finn, of his own free will, charge in after. In all honestly, Rey was winning that competition. For all the insane things he'd done with Poe, he had yet to face off against a Sith Lord in a lightsaber battle with him.

But while she was the logical choice, rather than any fancy speech or declaration of love, his mouth jumped ahead before his brain to seek confirmation, the surprise that she was being brought up now, of all times, obvious.

"Rey?"

"Yeah."

It was a weary sound, a defeated one. He had thought this would be a lot easier than it was. Had thought that he had managed to detach himself enough from the outcome that he could speak now as Finn's friend, rather than anything else. Disconnect how he felt, and just give Finn the truth.

He'd completely overestimated himself.

But he'd started down this path, even if it kind of made him wish his last run had been as lethal as it almost was.

"Rey."

"Rey."

He repeated her name again dumbly, like doing so might summon the woman into the room to help him sort this new, unexpected mess out. Rey hadn't been a topic of conversation when Poe kissed him, or pushed him into the shower, or during any of the seminars on the wonders of flying. Finn wasn't really sure what to do with her being brought up now.

"Yeah...she's important, too. I've got two people in the galaxy, Poe. I'm not letting go of either of them."

He hadn't even really thought about Rey until he had started trying to solve The Problem. Rey had been there in the back of his head, mostly as this figment of legend. He owed her way more than she knew, and now she was off, chasing the Jedi, and if Poe knew anything about the legends of the Jedi... probably becoming one herself.

If anyone in the galaxy could protect Finn, and protect herself - it was probably her.

If anyone in the galaxy could care for the thing that meant the most to him, it was her.

So why did he feel so miserable even trying to think about it?

"You're not going to get rid of me, Finn." He promised, quietly, his vice-grip still firm on Finn's hand. "... I just..." He trailed off, sucking in a breath to try to stop his chest from tearing itself open. "... I'm not the one you should be putting your bets on."

He shouldn't laugh. This was an incredibly important, serious talk. The man he'd spent the past month losing sleep over was more or less turning him down. He shouldn't be even tempted to laugh.

But it was the way he was doing it. Finn couldn't stop the small chuckle from bubbling up. He lifted the hand clinging to his and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

"You deciding me and Rey are getting together? You are a lucky man, Poe. She wouldn't care you're all banged up. She'd kick your ass for even trying to make up our minds for us."

Ironically, the laugh shouldn't have helped, but it did. A little.

Not enough to completely take the sting out of 'make up our minds for us'. He knew he wasn't going to get an outright denial about how Finn felt about Rey, but--

He couldn't help but wonder, how they would have made up their minds if he hadn't brought it up first.

Couldn't help but wonder if he was even going to be party to that conversation.

"I'm not that suicidal," He said, trying to smile and failing. "Not going to tell a Jedi what to do." Even that weak smile faded, and his face set. "... I'm serious, Finn," he said finally. "You were right. I don't-- You don't know what happened to my father, after my mom died. I don't want to do that to anyone. Rey... Rey can take care of herself."

And you, he didn't say.

"If I only get to pick based on who's gonna live the longest? I'm taking BB-8. That guy's invisible."

It was a surreal feeling, being the one making off hand comments in a conversation with Poe. But Poe was just so certain that, instead of breaking his heart like Finn had the vague feeling a real person might respond to, Poe's argument just made the man...irresistible. Perfect, the way he'd always been. For being a selfish, self-sacrificing moron to make up for Finn being a selfish, blind idiot.

"Out of the three of us, Poe, the foot soldier dies first. Until then, just let me live a little. How I want to."

With you. He didn't say it, but he hoped it was at least implied by the kiss he pressed to Poe's forehead.

He couldn't help it, the snorting laugh taking him before he could stop it, even though the jerking motion just made everything else feel worse.

Then Finn kept speaking and all of Poe's carefully built defenses broke. He had absolutely no argument, for that. Absolutely none. How could he possibly deny that request?

His eyes closed as Finn's lips met his forehead.

"... How am I supposed to argue that," He complained, a small, wry smile coming to his lips, but it was warm. Warm, and fond.

"You don't."

Easy enough. After the unexpected difficulty in talking Poe into maybe giving him another chance, Finn decides against trying to absolutely confirm. He was considering them good, and if he didn't ask Poe didn't have a new way to try and twist out of it. Perfect plan.

Rey would be a whole different issue for a whole different time.

"What you do is accept you're grounded for the next month, at least."

Were his eyes wet? Definitely not. Certainly not. He wasn't getting misty while smiling up at Finn, gripping his hand tightly.

"Yes, sir," He replied, hoarse and slightly sarcastic, but fond. Always fond.

"Finally."

What he wanted to do was just curl up around Poe, fall into their normal position of sleeping on the couch after a 'teaching Finn about important media' marathon. But there were the damn wires and injuries and all the other things he hated, yet on some level had to appreciate because they'd finally shaken him awake. Maybe he'd have to step back from leadership roles for a while, but the General might just understand. Of anything, she understood being emotionally compromised during the mission. They'd adjust, work through it. Instead of just turning and running because it was more difficult than he'd thought it should be.

So in the end he leaned in for one soft, chaste, actual kiss, then returned to his chair. After pulling it close enough he could keep one hand around Poe's and a leg tossed up onto the bed, of course.

"Maybe you'll listen to me every once in a while now."

He grinned as he said it, all affection. Of course Poe did listen to him- too well in the case. Finn was just usually all to eager to give in to Poe's argument instead.

A stupid post for stupid threads

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