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At first, he thought it was just his imagination—and that, in and of itself, was something incredible, that now he got to have an imagination, that he could fantasize and dream and concoct wild notions of what it would be like to float through the cosmos or have fur…or kiss Poe Dameron.
Finn blushed. That last thought was one he’d had many times since joining the Resistance, and it was one, he’d discovered, that could be dangerous. It could lead to hours of bolder thoughts, of flushed skin, of the need to go back to his bunk and…take care of things.
As embarrassing as those kinds of thoughts might be, he’d take the ability to think freely, to daydream, to imagine, over the Order’s insistence on blind obedience any day.
Of course, with dreams and imagination, there were also darker thoughts. Playing out arguments that would never happen, worrying over what ifs, nightmares.
With the good came the bad, but that still didn’t explain what had been happening to him lately. Because the more it happened, the more he realized it wasn’t his imagination. It wasn’t a dream. This was real.
And Finn didn’t know how to make it stop.
It only happened if he came into skin-to-skin contact with another being and only ever the first time they touched. In that brief instant, Finn would be sucked into a vision—always of the future and always of some important event in the other being’s life.
He’d seen injuries, awards, incredible sex, heart-wrenching grief, the birth of children, the death of friends. And all of it was infused with intense emotion. The very best and the absolute worst days of beings’ lives were all there waiting for him should his skin brush up against someone else’s.
The thing is, Finn couldn’t be sure how long he’d had this power because he’d never really been able to touch other beings before. From the time he was a teenager, he’d almost always been wearing Stormtrooper armor, and even when he wasn’t, the Order made it so that skin-to-skin contact was nearly impossible. There were no hugs in the First Order. There were no handshakes. Life there was clinical, cold, devoid of human touch.
And the first time it happened, Finn didn’t even realize it. He grabbed Rey’s hand and they were running and it was over in an instant: he saw Rey in battle, running over a dark and treacherous landscape. She was facing off with a man holding a lightsaber, grunting and sweating and scared. Finn had blinked and pulled himself out of the vision at that; the overwhelming sense of fear—her fear—was something he didn’t want to associate with the fierce girl running next to him, something he never wanted her to feel.
And in the chaos of explosions and fleeing Jakku, he forgot all about it.
Later, when he could reflect, he convinced himself that it was just his imagination. I was dehydrated, he told himself. People think crazy things when they’re dehydrated.
But deep down, he knew that wasn’t true.
After he woke up from Starkiller, it happened with the medical personnel. Brief flashes of their weddings, the births of their children…their deaths.
Finn knew this wasn’t normal. Deep in his gut, he knew. If nothing else, no one else mentioned it—they weren’t shocked; they didn’t gasp or laugh or fight back tears whenever they touched him. They simply didn’t react.
And that was the most terrifying part, how terribly alone it made Finn feel.
If Rey had been around, maybe he would’ve told her, but she was off training with Skywalker, and this wasn’t the sort of thing you confessed over a comm link, so Finn did what he always did. He buried his feelings and pretended he was like everyone else.
Finn covered up and made sure only to touch people through their clothing; he was mindful of crowds and places where he might come into contact with someone skin to skin. And that was how he lived his life.
But he couldn’t control everything…
As Karé sat down next to him in the mess, she ruffled Finn’s hair, and the moment her fingers brushed against his scalp, he heard laughter and saw two young children giggling and running in front of him, and Finn knew, instinctively, they were Karé’s. There was sunlight and tall grasses and a cool breeze and Finn’s heart floated in happiness.
Karé’s voice soon drug him out of it, though. “Finn? Finn, are you okay?”
He blinked to see her staring at him, concern evident on her face.
“Uh, yeah,” he looked around, as if he could spot the vision floating somewhere in the room if he just looked hard enough. He turned back to Karé, who was clearly worried. “I’m fine. Just…just tired.”
She nodded, unconvinced.
Finn was grateful when Snap changed the conversation and the pilots started talking about Jess’ mods to her X-wing. Finn only half listened as he thought about his vision of Karé, wondering how far in the future those children were waiting.
Poe sat down across from Finn and smiled. “You’re a million miles away,” he said.
“Huh?”
“Exactly,” Poe said. “What’s on your mind?”
Finn smiled a sad smile, “Just thinking about the future.”
“Anything in particular?”
Finn shook his head. Poe raised an eyebrow. “Fine,” Finn said. “If you could know what was going to happen in your future would you want to know?”
Poe leaned back and considered.
Jess spoke up as he did, “Of course! Why wouldn’t you want to know?”
“What if your knowledge changes things,” Poe said.
Finn stared at him. That was awfully insightful.
Poe smiled and leaned forward, seeming to read Finn’s thoughts. “I can go deep every once in a while, Finn.”
“I’m with Poe,” Karé said. “I like the surprise of not knowing.”
“Even if it’s good,” Snap asked.
“Yeah, why spoil the surprise,” she said with a wink.
“What about you,” Poe asked Finn. “You want to know?”
Finn shook his head. “No,” he said quietly, staring at his food. He pushed his fork around for a moment before he looked up and said, “Just having a future, with possibilities, it’s kind of new to me.”
Poe sighed and smiled.
Jess rolled her eyes.
Iolo snorted. “Why is everyone so kriffing serious? Can we please get off this psychological banthafodder and talk about something else?”
As Iolo re-started the conversation, Finn looked over at Poe who was staring at his plate. “I wouldn’t want to know either,” Poe said quietly as the other pilots talked about a party happening on Taungsday after second shift. He looked up and winked at Finn, and Finn felt his chest constrict.
Because that was Finn’s real problem: Poe.
Perfect kriffing Poe Dameron. The man, who Finn wanted to hug and kiss and do any number of totally debauched things to, was completely off limits.
So far, he’d managed to avoid any skin-to-skin contact with Poe, but he felt like he was living on borrowed time. Finn lived in fear of what he might see if he ever did actually get to touch Poe’s skin: he might see Poe hurt, or the day Poe died, or he might see Poe living happily ever after…with someone else.
To make it even worse, Poe was handsy. Poe touched everyone.
And Finn was running out of ways to avoid Poe’s touch.
So, when Rey finally brought Luke Skywalker back to base, Finn made sure to request a meeting with the Jedi. The General had once told him if he had any questions, any issues, to come see her, and Finn figured having disquieting visions of your fellow soldiers’ futures qualified as an issue. And if anyone is going to have an answer, surely it would be a kriffing Jedi, right?
The General seemed amused at his request to meet her brother, but she didn’t refuse.
And that was why, one day after Skywalker came back, Finn found himself in a conference room with the General and the Jedi. He walked in and took the seat the General offered him, but before he could speak, she said, “So, what do you think?”
The man standing in front of Finn nodded.
The General smiled. “I thought so.”
Finn’s head whipped from one to the other. “You thought what?”
“I’m fairly certain you’re Force sensitive, Finn,” Luke Skywalker said.
“I’m what?”
“Force sensitive,” the man repeated. He then smiled. “I’m Luke Skywalker, by the way.”
Finn tried to smile as he weakly said, “Finn.” He turned to Leia. “You think I’m what?”
“Force sensitive,” she said. “I’ve suspected it since I first met you, but I wanted a second opinion just to be sure.” She frowned. “Isn’t that why you wanted to meet with Luke?”
“No,” Finn said. “I’ve been having these visions, of people’s futures, and I thought he could help.”
“Visions,” Luke said, his brow wrinkling in concern. “Tell me about them.”
Finn recounted every vision he could remember while Luke and the General stood and listened, both nodding, neither one’s face betraying any hint of emotion. When Finn finished, Luke looked to his sister, who asked, “Is it Force vision?”
Luke shook his head. “I don’t think so. They’re rare enough that I can’t be sure, but in every account I’ve ever heard, they aren’t triggered by random touch.” Luke paced a bit. “I think this is something else.”
“So, I’m not Force sensitive,” Finn asked.
“Oh, you’re definitely Force sensitive,” Luke said. “But I think this is something else.”
Leia’s forehead scrunched up as she studied Finn. “Perhaps some psychic ability that hasn’t been recorded before?”
“Maybe,” Luke supplied. He didn’t look convinced.
Finn’s shoulders slumped. He’d really hoped that Skywalker would be able to help him with this.
Leia leaned forward, being sure to put her hand on Finn’s arm far away from any exposed skin. “Finn, we’ll do everything in our power to help you figure this out.”
He looked up and nodded.
“Besides,” she continued, “if you’d like, you can start training with Rey and my brother. Perhaps that will help you control these visions.”
Finn smiled up at her. “Of course.”
He knew it wouldn’t help.
Still, he had to hand it to Luke and Leia; they did try to find an explanation. They reached out to contacts. They dug up old books. But there was no indication that anyone else had ever had this…condition.
Finn sighed. He truly wanted to see the bright side of this, to see it as a gift, but…
Watching Poe and the pilots messing around in the hangar, the way Poe slapped Snap on the back or stopped to pat Bee’s dome, Finn felt a longing for something he was never going to have.
It was worse than being trapped in the damn Stormtrooper armor. At least there, he hadn’t really known what he was missing.
Here, it stared him in the face every single day.
# # # #
Poe Dameron loved touching other beings. Always had. He was free with hugs and with pats on the back. He slapped his pilot’s shoulders and he squeezed their arms.
But if you paid close enough attention to Poe over the years, you would’ve seen that he rarely touched other beings skin to skin.
His hands always fell on parts of a being that were clothed. And he tended to wear his flight suit and his gloves, even when he didn’t have to, just in case.
Because Poe Dameron was cursed.
He was thirteen the first time it happened. He and his friend Rooney had been playing out in the jungle; Rooney slipped and when Poe grabbed his hand to help him up, he’d seen it: a vision of beings crying. Rooney sobbing uncontrollably. Someone talking about senseless accidents and an overwhelming feeling of heaviness—as if the world was somehow pressing against his chest.
In an instant, it was over, and Rooney was shooting him a strange look. “You okay, Poe?”
“Yeah,” Poe said. “Yeah.” He shook his head. “Just tired, I guess.”
Six months later, when Rooney’s father died in a transport accident, Poe remembered the vision. In the intervening months, they had been happening more and more frequently—always when he touched another being’s skin to his own.
Some were good; some were bad. All of them were draining.
And soon, Poe realized he had a problem that wasn’t going away.
He couldn’t burden his father with this—one more trauma to lay at Kes’ feet—so Poe covered up; he learned how to touch without touching, and he kept his visions a secret.
And then, one vision broke his heart…
The thing with Muran was that Poe felt so easy around him, felt so sure that they were going to be friends—and maybe more—for the rest of their lives, that he let down his guard. One day, he just reached over and grabbed Muran’s hand—and he was more shocked when Muran didn’t pull his hand away than he was by the vision: Muran earning a promotion and going out for a raucous round of drinks with Poe, Karé, and Iolo.
That was why, a few years later, when Poe watched Muran’s ship explode, he felt betrayed.
Not just by the Republic or by his own inability to get Muran out in time, but by the visions. What good is seeing other beings’ futures if you can’t do anything about them?
As soon as he was finally alone in his bunk, he let all the anger, sadness, and fear that had been welling up in him since he was thirteen boil over. He threw himself onto his bed, shoving his head into his pillow. “This isn’t supposed to happen,” he screamed. “Why in the kriff would you let me see these things if I can’t help anyone? Why wouldn’t you let me see that, let me know it was coming? I could’ve stopped it! I could’ve stopped it.” Poe sobbed into his pillow, his frame convulsing until he had no more energy. “I could’ve stopped it,” he rasped quietly.
In the Resistance, Poe tried to forget the images he saw.
That might’ve accounted for why he was willing to take Leia’s suicide missions, why he kept a bottle of rum under his bunk, why he had lots of friends but never let anyone get too close.
And then, Finn entered his life. Beautiful, wonderful, amazing Finn.
And a sense of danger—that the wrong vision could break him in two—became palpable. Poe vowed never to touch Finn because…
I can’t do it again. Good or bad, I can’t.
So Poe smiled and wore his gloves a lot, and he tried to pretend that it wasn’t killing him inside.
# # # #
Finding out that Finn was Force sensitive wasn’t shocking. What was shocking was a few weeks later being asked to fly Finn to an old Jedi temple halfway across the galaxy to retrieve an artifact that Luke Skywalker thought might help take down the Order. Poe suddenly found himself locked in a tiny transport with Finn for the better part of a week.
Thankfully, Finn didn’t seem like the handsy type, so there hadn’t been any close calls or near misses…yet.
In fact, it wasn’t until they were in the temple, somewhere deep underground, that Poe started to worry about touching Finn—because that’s when everything went to hell.
There’d been a booby trap and the room they were in had started to collapse in on itself. Finn had found the artifact just in time, but as the two of them ran from the room, Finn’s leg had caught on something. Then, a crashing bit of wall caught Poe’s shoulder, and soon enough, the two of them found themselves wounded and trapped in the dark of a collapsed tunnel.
“Poe,” Finn said. “Where are you?”
“I think I’m on your six,” Poe said, reaching out and feeling for something, anything, to orient himself. His hand found a bumpy wall. “Where are you?”
“Uh, in front of you,” Finn said. “I think.” Their voices were bouncing off the walls and echoing something fierce.
Poe heard Finn stumble and curse. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just…fragging rocks.” Finn dusted himself off and stood up. “I think I’ve cut my leg.”
“Yeah, I’ve banged up my shoulder pretty good and OOOMPH,” Poe said, running smack into a wall. “KRIFF!”
“You okay,” Finn asked, a hint of laughter in his voice.
“Don’t you have a light?”
“Lost my pack. You?”
“Lost my pack,” Poe said, stumbling forward.
“So now what,” Finn asked.
“We find a way out,” Poe said.
“Fragging hell,” Finn said.
“Yep.”
Poe could hear Finn stumbling around somewhere to his right. “Try to find a wall and then see if you can feel any air currents.”
“Will do,” Finn said.
The two of them worked silently for several minutes. Then, Finn’s voice echoed happily, “I think I’ve got something, Poe.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, come here.”
Poe didn’t even think. He simply stumbled towards Finn’s voice…
…And realized a split second too late what he’d done as his uncovered hand slid along Finn’s cheek and Poe fell into his friend. Both men jumped and pushed away from each other.
Then, both sat in stunned silence.
Because nothing happened.
Poe held his hand up in front of his face, even though he couldn’t see it. I know I touched him.
Finn sat back in the dirt and rubbed his cheek. He touched me.
Finally, Finn said, “Poe?”
“Yeah, buddy?”
“Did you…my cheek just now? Did you touch it?”
“Yeah,” Poe breathed out. “I’m sorry, buddy. I don’t know what…” Poe shook his head. “You felt me touch you, right?”
“Yeah,” Finn said. What the hell? Finn tried to think of any possible reason why he hadn’t had a vision. It can’t be. “Poe, give me your hand.”
“What?”
“Give me your hand, Poe.”
“Uh, no,” Poe said.
“What?”
“Sorry, buddy. I can’t do that.”
“Why?”
“I can’t tell you,” Poe said, fighting the urge to scramble away from his friend.
“You can’t tell me?” Finn leaned forward. “We’re trapped in the dark, underground. We’re both injured, no one is coming to help us, and something really strange just happened to me, so give me your kriffing hand, Dameron!”
“No. Something really strange just happened to me too, but I’m not going to tempt fate.”
“Poe,” Finn said, crawling forward. “I don’t have time to explain this, but it’s very important that I touch you.”
“Finn, I don’t have time to explain to you why it’s very important that I don’t touch you,” Poe said, trying to crawl backward and running into a rock.
“Kriff, Poe, will you just…” Finn grabbed Poe’s boot.
“Finn,” the panic in Poe’s voice rising. “Please don’t. I don’t want to see your future, Finn. Please don’t make me see that.”
Finn froze. “What?”
“I can’t, Finn. I just can’t.”
Finn let go of his boot. “Poe, what did you just say?”
Poe took in a ragged breath. “I said I didn’t want to see your future, Finn. Don’t ask me how I would or what any of this is about but when I touch people I—”
“See their future. But only if it’s skin to skin.”
Poe stopped breathing for a moment. “Wait, what?”
“You only get a vision if your skin touches theirs.” Finn sucked in a quick breath. “It’s why I’ve been avoiding touching you.”
“Kriffing hell, Finn,” Poe said, wiping his face with the back of his arm. “Are you telling me that you?”
“Yep,” Finn said. “And you?”
“Yep.”
“Kriff,” Finn said. He leaned back for a moment and took it in. “But you touched my cheek just now and I didn’t see anything.”
“Me, either,” Poe said.
“A fluke?”
“I don’t know,” Poe said.
“Poe, we have to touch each other again.”
“Finn,” Poe said, his voice tiny and faltering, “Please don’t ask me to do that.”
“Poe, we have to know.”
“Finn,” Poe said.
“Poe, I haven’t been able to touch anyone in the Resistance without having a vision and you can’t just…” He leaned forward. “Please, Poe.”
Poe realized that he was powerless against the request. Of course, they had to touch, just to see what was going on. He took in a deep breath and let it out. “Fine,” he said. “Come here.”
He heard Finn crawling towards him and tensed. This won’t change anything. I’ll see his future and it will be fine. Just fine. It’ll probably something happy, like him marrying Rey.
Finn crawled until he was right next to Poe. He lifted his hand and hesitated. What if I see something?
He bit his lip. What if I don’t?
Finn reached out. “I’m gonna…”
“Yeah, okay,” Poe said, his voice tight. He screwed his eyes shut and waited.
After what felt like an eternity, he felt Finn’s fingers skim across his cheek.
For a moment, Poe didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t breathe. Then, he slowly opened his eyes, aware the Finn’s fingers were resting on his cheek and yet, there was no vision. That’s not supposed to happen.
He sucked in a breath and he grabbed at Finn’s hand, holding it in place. “What?”
Finn laughed. It was a bizarre laugh, one Poe had never heard before—half relieved and half terrified.
“What in the name of the kriffing galaxy,” Poe said.
Finn pressed his hand into Poe’s cheek. “Nothing,” he said. “I’ve got absolutely nothing.”
Poe took up the crazed laugh. “Me too. Nothing,” he said.
Finn leaned further in and practically fell into Poe’s lap. Poe’s hands found Finn’s face, and they were suddenly both laughing, their hands skimming over each other’s skin.
It took them a full two minutes before they stopped laughing. By then, they were both gasping for air. Yet, neither one was willing to let go of the other.
Eventually, Poe said, “That’s never happened before.”
“To me either,” Finn said.
Poe took Finn’s hand in his and squeezed it. “How long have you…”
“I don’t know,” Finn said, rubbing his thumb over the back of Poe’s hand. “In the Order, we didn’t touch. I didn’t notice until the Resistance.”
“Kriff,” Poe said.
“You,” Finn asked.
“Since I was thirteen,” he said.
“Kriffing hell,” Finn said.
“Yeah,” Poe said.
“I bet puberty was a bitch.”
Poe laughed at that. “Yes, it was.” After a few moments, he stopped laughing and said, “I’ve been avoiding touching you.”
“Me too,” Finn said. “Didn’t want to see your future.”
“Don’t really want to see anyone’s,” Poe said, “but especially not yours.”
“Why especially not mine?”
“Kriff, Finn,” Poe said, “What if I saw you die or get hurt or…”
“Or what if I saw you end up with someone else,” Finn said.
Poe froze, thankful that in the dark Finn couldn’t see the blush that had just risen over his entire body.
Finn bit his lip. You went too far, Finn. “I just…I meant…Kriff!”
“Finn,” Poe asked.
“Yeah?”
“Would it be okay if I kissed you now?”
“Hell yes,” Finn said, his smile evident in his voice.
Poe leaned over, and even in the dark, he closed his eyes as he pressed his lips into Finn’s. Finn sighed, bringing his hands up to cup Poe’s face.
As the two of them sunk down onto the ground, hands pulling at clothes and brushing across overheated skin, they both forgot about the darkness and their injuries and the collapsed temple and just enjoyed the relief, the thrill, the limitless possibilities of touching each other.
# # # #
Poe didn’t know if it was minutes or hours later when Finn pulled him a bit closer, kissing the top of Poe’s head, and said, “Should probably try to get out of here at some point.”
“Mmmmmmmm,” Poe agreed. He then laughed. “We’re never gonna find our clothes.”
Finn laughed. “That should make the return trip interesting.”
A few minutes later, both had crawled around and found enough clothing—and thank goodness we’re the same size, Finn thought—to try to get themselves out.
# # # #
Three hours later, they had just made the jump to hyperspace. Poe leaned back against the captain’s chair and sighed. “No more hidden Jedi temples. Ever.”
“Sounds good,” Finn said, deliberately taking Poe’s hand in his.
Poe flinched and then immediately apologized, “Sorry. It’s just gonna—”
Finn brought Poe’s hand up to his lips. “It’s okay, babe.”
Poe couldn’t help but smile at the endearment. After a moment, though, he had to ask, “Why don’t you think we saw anything?”
Finn shrugged. “Maybe your magic cancels mine out?”
“Magic?”
“Fine,” Finn said. “Unknown psychic abilities.”
Poe chewed his lip and mulled it over.
Finn tugged at his hand. “Credit for your thoughts?”
Poe seemed to be somewhere far, far away.
“Poe,” Finn asked. “You still with me?”
Poe turned to Finn. “Still here.”
“So, what’s your verdict? Why no visions?”
Poe stood, pulling Finn after him, wandering back to the small bunk in the lounge of the transport. “Maybe,” Poe said, staring at their intertwined fingers. “Maybe there’s no vision because you are my future.”
Finn’s eyes filled with tears as Poe continued, “Maybe everything I need to see is right here in front of me.”
# # # #
Over the years, various beings would offer up their take on the visions: some claimed it wasn’t real; others swore it was a new type of Force ability. Some were convinced that Poe and Finn were, indeed, magic.
Finn didn’t much care what any of them thought.
The only thing that mattered was that the most important vision—the most important future he was ever able to see—was the one he got to live every day with Poe Dameron.