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“Okay Universe,” Poe whispered from the cockpit of Black One, “if he’s dead, could you just send me a sign? It’s been, what? Twenty years?” Poe sighed and leaned his head back. “Twenty long freakin’ years.”
From behind him, BB-8 trilled [Everything okay?]
“Fine, Bee.” My soulmate is either dead or having the most boring life known to the galaxy. “Just fine.” He moved to scrub his hands over his face and then remembered his helmet. “Just kriffing fine.”
The droid knew better than to push things when Poe was being pissy. It didn’t help that they’d been drifting here for over an hour waiting for Snap’s recon mission to finish. Bee didn’t like waiting any more than Poe did, but Bee found ways to avoid being maudlin about it.
Then, Poe started bargaining with the universe again. If Bee could sigh, it would have. Instead, it decided to run another diagnostic and ignore Poe’s pleas for a sign.
# # # #
Like so many other children in the galaxy, Poe grew up with stories of soulmate visions, and since he’d been a hopeless romantic from practically the moment he was born, he devoured them. He’d listen in rapt attention as this Auntie or that Uncle would tell him about a particularly good vision, his little eyes growing wide as saucers as he tried to imagine what it would be like to see through his soulmate’s eyes. It sounded like magic.
Poe knew that most beings had a tiny psychic connection with their soulmates and when either of them experienced a significantly emotional event, they would both see it and feel it. In many ways, beings told him, the visions helped you get to know your mate before you met—they showed you what excited them, what scared them, what made their heart beat faster.
And almost every being he talked to would tell him about the thrill of being able to see yourself through your soulmate’s eyes. Poe couldn’t wait for that.
Still, even though he’d heard story after story of soulmate visions from anyone he could get to share, his favorites were the stories his parents told him of the visions they’d both had before they met: Kes seeing the first time Shara flew; Shara watching Kes’ first kiss (she’d laughed telling Poe the story: “Daddy was just so nervous, baby. It was a mess. That poor being, whoever she was.” Shara shook her head. “Thankfully, he got better at that.”)
To Poe, their stories sounded like fairy tales: magical instants where you got to share your best and worst moments with someone who was your one true love. He couldn’t wait to start having soulmate visions of his own. He wanted his very own dashing prince and a happily ever after. But even more than that, he wanted the kind of connection that he saw his parents share.
The problem was, Poe’s visions weren’t coming.
Poe wasn’t the most patient of children to begin with—but having to wait for something that most of his friends had already experienced? That was a bit much for Poe.
After Shara died, Poe started begging the universe for a soulmate vision, throwing himself wholly into the notion that if the universe was going to take something so dear away from him, it should give him something just as dear in return.
And by the time Poe turned ten, Kes started begging the universe too, to just give his son something, anything. He hated seeing his son so distressed. And he kept reassuring Poe that there were many reasons why his mate hadn’t given him a vision yet: maybe there was an age difference? Maybe his mate lived a sheltered life? Or, when Kes was particularly annoyed with his son’s reckless behavior, maybe his mate listened to his parents and behaved?
Poe wanted to believe his father, but he felt so left out. Why couldn’t the universe let him have this? Why didn’t he seem to have a mate?
# # # #
Poe was twelve the first—and only—time he had a soulmate vision. He’d been up late, putting together a model A-wing in his room when suddenly he’d seen a city in flames. People were screaming, blaster shots rang out in the darkness, and he was looking through the eyes of someone small—probably a child—who was screaming for his mother and watching in horror as what looked like Stormtroopers set fire to a building. The boy was struggling, if Poe could guess by the way the vision seemed to jerk and bounce. There was so much terror and sadness that Poe nearly choked on it. And then, all at once, nothing.
Poe fell back out of his chair, tears streaking down his cheeks. “Dad,” he screamed. “Dad!” He wasn’t sure what Kes could do, but they had to help. They had to find this being and protect him, help those people. It didn’t matter if this was a soulmate vision or not, Poe couldn’t just stand by and let something like this happen.
Kes ran into his room, his eyes wide at the state of his son. “Poe?”
“I think I had a vision,” Poe said, wiping his eyes. Kes helped him up and Poe started to explain as best he could.
Kes’ mouth was set in a firm line. “And you’re sure it was Stormtroopers?”
“Yeah, dad. White helmets, blasters, all walking as one. They were Stormtroopers.”
A part of Kes wanted to tell Poe it was a dream, but somewhere deep inside he knew, and it made him sick. We fought so you wouldn’t have to deal with Stormtroopers. “The rumors are true, then,” Kes muttered.
“What rumors?”
Kes looked to Poe. Twelve seemed far too young to be discussing this, even if both he and Shara and so many of their friends and colleagues had already been fighting the Empire by the time they were twelve. Kes had wanted a galaxy where twelve year olds didn’t have to worry about fascist regimes coming to kill them. He’d wanted something better for his son.
He sighed and put his arm around Poe. “There are rumors that remnants of the Empire have been rebuilding.”
“Kriff,” Poe said. And then the horrible thought, and they’ve captured my soulmate. “So, what do we do?”
“We?”
“Yeah, dad, we.”
“Well, for now, you get some rest. I’ll reach out to some friends and see what they can tell me.” Poe was already fidgeting. Too much like your damn mother, Kes thought with a sad smile. “Poe,” he said. “We can’t fly out tonight and save him. For kriff’s sake, we don’t even know where he is.” Poe slumped a bit. “But, I promise you, I will help you get to a place where you can fight back, maybe even find him and rescue him, okay?”
Poe nodded.
“It’s frustrating, kid, I get it, but trust me, he ain’t dead yet.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you’ll know, son.”
Poe looked up at him hopefully.
Kes tried not to dwell on what it felt like when Shara died—the hole it ripped out of his very soul. “Trust me, Poe, you’ll know.”
# # # #
Poe wanted to trust his father, wanted to believe his reassuring words, but over the years, it became harder and harder. Because nothing else ever came.
Sometimes he convinced himself that the vision had been a dream, that he’d made it up. But somewhere deep down inside, he knew it was real.
And somehow that was even worse—because it meant that if his soulmate was alive, he was trapped somewhere, waiting for Poe to rescue him, and Poe had never come. Poe leaned his helmet against the transparisteel of the cockpit. “I just want to know he’s okay, you know?”
Bee dinged. [Snap is approaching.]
Poe took a deep breath and re-focused on the mission at hand.
# # # #
FN-2187 didn’t talk about his visions. Over the years, he’d heard whispers about soulmates, just like every other trooper, but for them, soulmates weren’t something you talked about freely.
Maybe it was because some Stormtroopers never had visions—they simply didn’t have mates or their mates were already dead. Maybe it was because the troopers that did have visions learned to keep them to themselves. If you talked about a vision in front of a superior officer, you were sent to reconditioning. If you had the misfortune of meeting your mate, you were given an option: kill them or be executed.
Soulmates and visions were distractions. Your first loyalty was to the Order, after all.
But, troopers still talked. Out on missions. At night in the barracks. There were hushed conversations of things troopers had seen and heard. Most of them feared the visions—yet, there was still a compulsion and a curiosity. Some troopers would even try to imagine what their mates were like, where they were, what they were doing. But that was a risky game.
And it was a game FN-2187 tried not to play. He knew his visions were dangerous. Early on, there had been visions connected to flying. His mate was a pilot of some sort, and whoever he was, he loved flying more than just about anything. The flying visions were full of weightless arcs and twisting spins that left FN breathless. And throughout these visions, FN had also realized that his mate was a bit reckless—there were enough quick visions of close calls that FN had stopped being upset by them. He simply shook his head and thanked the universe for keeping his idiotic and foolhardy mate safe.
But there were other visions with clues that FN started to piece together. New Republic symbols. A Commander’s bars on a uniform. Resistance propaganda. My mate fights for the other side, FN realized.
Figures, he thought.
So, FN-2187 kept his mouth shut.
That was usually pretty easy. He’d learned how to pretend to be emotionless years ago. Although there were times when it was a bit…trying.
For instance, over the years, there had been a few really good orgasm visions. Those made FN smile, mostly. There was a bit of jealousy mixed in there, but he was glad his mate was having a good time. A really kriffing good time, FN thought as he marched in formation trying very hard not to get too aroused.
Then, one night he awoke to the vision of an X-wing exploding in front of him. He could feel his mate’s anger, sadness, frustration, and heartbreak. He leaned forward, his head in his hands. He knew that his mate had just lost a dear friend. I’m so sorry, he thought. I wish I could be there for you.
I’m never gonna be there for you, though.
He looked around—no one had woken up and noticed his reaction. He let out a relieved sigh, grateful this vision had come in the middle of the night. He fell back onto his bunk.
Soulmates are distractions, he told himself. Soulmates are distractions…
FN-2187 was a good Stormtrooper, better than almost any other, but if his visions had taught him anything over the years, it was that being a good Stormtrooper left him feeling hollow. I’ve failed my mate, he often thought to himself. He deserves something better than a good Stormtrooper; he deserves a good man.
# # # #
Poe leaned his head back and stretched it. He was on his third cup of caf. He brought the cup to his lips and winced as he realized it was cold. He looked across the way at the General, who was studying something with C-3PO and Admiral Statura. He was fairly sure that in a few minutes they were going to come to a decision and then, he was going to be off on another mission. And deep in the pit of his stomach, something about this mission was worrying him.
Poe shrugged and gulped the cold caf.
The vision didn’t burst into his head the way the first one had. This one was subtle. One moment, he was staring at the General. The next, he was looking at four beings sitting at a table. Poe’s heart sped up. My soulmate!
Whoever his soulmate was, he was focusing in on an Abednedo, who was one of the four beings at the table, and Poe could sense his mate’s dread. He could hear voices and then an order: “Kill them!”
Poe whimpered, “No.”
There was a split second where nothing happened. He could see his mate’s arm rise, weapon in hand. There were shots, but Poe saw that his mate didn’t fire.
The four beings fell dead all the same.
And the horror and disgust his mate felt made Poe sick.
The vision slowly faded from Poe’s sight.
Poe leaned back against a console. Someone was speaking to him. He shook his head and looked into Kaydel’s worried eyes. “Poe? Are you okay?”
He shook his head no then said, “Yeah, sorry. Is she ready for me?”
Kaydel nodded and pointed to a conference room.
Poe pushed himself up, handed Kaydel his empty mug, and started forward. He didn’t fire, he thought. That’s something, right?
And then the more sickening realization, he was wearing white armor.
# # # #
After Poe and Snap dropped off Black One at his father’s place, Poe jumped into an unmarked X-wing and set a course for Jakku. Thankfully, he’d been so busy for the last several hours that he hadn’t had time to think, really. But now, he was sitting in a cockpit, the white streaks of hyperspace surrounding him, and all he could do was focus on the image of that armor.
He’s a Stormtrooper, Poe thought. They turned that boy into a Stormtrooper. Poe closed his eyes. Of course, they did.
I failed him.
All these years and I should’ve been out there looking for him and…
Poe sucked in a long breath.
[You nervous?]
“No, Bee, just…” Poe shook his head. “Just…ready to get this over with. We’ve been looking for Lor San Tekka for a long time.”
Poe bit his lip. Focus on the mission, Dameron. There’s nothing you can do about your mate right now.
# # # #
FN-2187 knew that if he didn’t complete this mission to Captain Phasma’s expectations, he was likely going to end up in reconditioning…or worse. He’d failed to fire on the miners at the colony. If I fail again here… FN gripped his blaster just a bit tighter as the transport set down. I can do this.
They ran off the transport and the screams of the villagers filled his head. This is wrong. We shouldn’t… I can’t do this.
I have to do this. He lifted his blaster, determined to fight down these feelings he was having.
But when Slip fell, everything changed. FN-2187 knelt beside him, watched Slip’s hand rise and paint his helmet with blood. This isn’t real. This can’t be… FN-2187 forced himself up, but it was all happening as if in a dream. The same dream he’d been having since he was a child: fire, people screaming, a sense that everything happening around him was so very wrong.
He stumbled along a crumbling wall, trying to get his breathing to steady. He faced a villager, raised his blaster and… He was filled with terror and self-loathing, and FN-2187 knew he wasn’t going to fire on any innocents. “Go,” he said, weakly. When she wouldn’t move, he barked, “Go! Now!”
# # # #
Poe slumped against the side of a boulder as a new vision overtook him. Not now, he begged the universe, but then he was watching a fallen Stormtrooper dying, reaching up, as if to beg for one last moment of human contact. Poe squeezed his eyes tighter—thinking of them as real human beings was going to make shooting them that much harder. It was already bad enough knowing his mate was somewhere out there in the galaxy, hidden under the same kind of armor, but if all of them were…
Poe drug in a breath as the vision withdrew. He didn’t have time to think, didn’t realize that there was a Stormtrooper not fifty feet away stumbling to the back of a hut, his blaster at his side.
Poe turned and opened fire, letting his tears fall freely down his cheeks. I’m so sorry, he called out to the universe. So sorry.
# # # #
FN-2187 was doing the math. He’d just turned in his blaster for inspection, and the technicians were sure to find it in working order. Phasma had told him to report to her division; that’s where he was headed now. He had a feeling he could make it through the preliminary round of questions. That would give him a few hours before the report on his blaster made it to her and she sent him to reconditioning. A few hours for him to figure out how to get off the Finalizer.
FN-2187 took a deep breath. How in the kriff am I supposed to get off this ship? Think. Think!
The vision came roaring into his head. Not now, he wanted to scream. He pushed himself into an alcove just as a holding cell came into view in his head. No, he thought. Oh maker, no! He watched an IT unit approach his mate, and Finn began to shake. His mate’s determination and fear filled his every thought. Just tell them what they want to know! He winced as his mate closed his eyes, screaming. Pain flooded FN’s system and then, there was nothing. Oh maker, please say he fainted.
FN stood there panting for a moment before two things dawned on him. The prisoner from the village was a Resistance pilot, and he was being held in a holding cell, probably being tortured.
A pilot.
A Resistance pilot.
No, FN thought. It couldn’t be.
He took a deep breath, refusing to let himself hope. Even if he isn’t, he’s still a pilot. A plan started to form in his head.
And I need a pilot.
# # # #
Walking through the sands of Jakku, Finn had time to think, and he came to a few quick conclusions.
One, when you’re in the middle of an escape with people shooting at you, it is sometimes hard to distinguish between what you are seeing/hearing/feeling and what your soulmate is—especially if he happens to be the one escaping with you.
Two, Poe Dameron was most certainly his soulmate. If he wasn’t sure before, he was now. During their escape in the TIE, he saw out of Poe’s eyes as often as he did his own. It was a surreal experience, to say the least.
Finn still couldn’t wrap his head around all of this. Did the universe really send him his soulmate now? Because come on, whose kriffing soulmate shows up the exact same moment as your crisis of conscience and then helps you escape a fascist regime? Finn laughed. “Poe Dameron does,” he said to the shifting sands.
Finn’s other constant thought—besides water—was a pang of worry. Poe’s body wasn’t in the TIE, so Finn was going to go out on a limb and have a little faith and assume that he was still alive. But there was that nagging question, if he’s alive, where is he? Is he hurt? Does he need me?
Poe, could you send me another vision, buddy?
Preferably not an orgasm or torture or anything? Could you just get really happy about getting rescued or something?
Please.
# # # #
Poe fell into the sand as the vision overtook him. Finn was screaming and…is that a kriffing rathtar? NOOOOOOO! Poe’s hands were grasping at nothing and he was fighting the urge to scream. Someone help him! And then, a hiss and a clang and Finn fell to the ground, gasping for breath.
Poe jerked out of the vision. He’s okay? He took a deep breath and waited. Finn, he called out into the universe. Buddy?
“Finn,” he yelled into the cool desert night.
# # # #
Several hours later, Poe was quietly mulling over recent events on his trip back to base. He’d been able to spare a few minutes for his father before getting himself packed up and ready to go, and during that time he could focus on his dad and prepping Black One. But now, alone, he couldn’t help but think about Finn.
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” he’d said.
And he meant it, Poe thought. Even at the time, as Poe had quipped about the Stormtrooper needing a pilot, deep down he knew that the words were sincere.
And now, he remembered that earlier vision—the one with the Abednedo—and he understood a bit of why Finn hadn’t shot.
He leaned back in his seat. The escape in the TIE had been wonderful and unsettling all at once. The moment Finn had shot the laser cannons and let out his whoop, Poe had known. For a split second, as he yelled out, “Yeah!” he’d been looking out of Finn’s eyes, feeling Finn’s elation. And that “Yeah!” had been as much about finding his mate as it had been about hitting a target.
"Did you see that?"
"Yeah, I saw it." He knew Finn was talking about the explosion, but he also wondered if maybe there was a double meaning in the question; throughout the escape, he’d blink and he’d be right there in Finn’s head, so he didn't have time to ask. It was all so much, so fast; he couldn’t process what was happening.
But then, he’d woken up on Jakku, alone, and had that horrible vision with the rathtar.
And the only thing that had kept him going now was his father’s promise when he was twelve that he’d know if his soulmate died.
“Please say that’s true,” Poe muttered to the nothingness around him. “Please say he’s okay.”
# # # #
Finn was crawling through rubble, scrambling for his confiscated lightsaber and a blaster. He grabbed both and started shooting and that’s when it hit him, like a blast of fresh air. It’s a flying one, he thought. Of course, it is. He smiled as he felt the woosh of a ship doing a 360 flip and twisting and turning.
As he came out of the vision, Finn looked up at the black X-wing dancing above him. “That’s one hell of a pilot,” he screamed. And he’s mine! He wanted to giggle. Poe Dameron, you idiot—I’m glad you’re safe.
# # # #
Poe crouched in front of BB-8, and as soon as the droid mentioned Finn, he turned, searching the tarmac. “Oh no,” he laughed. It’s really him. It’s really him, and he’s really safe. He started running.
As they crashed into each other, Poe couldn’t help the ridiculous grin on his face. You’re alive and you’re safe and you’re here. You’re really here!
And then they were talking, but neither of them was mentioning the soulmate thing, and Poe didn’t care. All he cared about was the beautiful man standing in front of him. Alive! And wearing my jacket. “Hey, that’s my jacket.” Then, he heard himself say, “You’re a good man, Finn,” and he felt like an idiot—because there were so many other things he’d hoped to say, needed to say, but it was all such a mess because Poe couldn’t believe that Finn was really here. My soulmate is here! This is really happening!
The moment Finn said he needed help, Poe started dragging him towards command. Anything, Finn. You want help—I’ll give it. Need a kidney? I’ve got an extra. Want all my money? It’s yours.
Poe brought him to the General, and he felt as if he might float away. He’s here and he’s safe and he’s mine.
# # # #
You’re a good man, Finn. Finn couldn’t help his small smile as they crowded around the console.
You’re a good man, Finn. He looked over at Poe, stepping up to lead the conversation, and he felt it—no longer that hollow feeling of being a Stormtrooper. It was as if he’d woken up from a dream.
He was full of love and full of purpose. And I’ve found my mate.
They were going to destroy Starkiller and rescue Rey. Everything was going to be all right.
# # # #
A few hours later, Finn was nervous. He watched Han and Chewie bickering and tried not to pay attention to their ridiculously dangerous plan.
But that wasn’t what was making him nervous. No, in his euphoria at finding his mate and a group of like-minded individuals, he might have made a few promises he wasn’t sure how he was going to keep.
Plus, there was the whole soulmate thing. He and Poe had just literally run into each other’s arms and spent several hours together and NEITHER KRIFFING ONE OF US STOPPED TO MENTION THE SOULMATE THING!
Are we kriffing idiots, he asked the universe, and then almost immediately, he added, no, don’t answer that.
We’ll do it after. Once we’re both safe and Rey is safe and there’s no more big gun aiming at the Resistance base.
It was just bad timing is all.
Finn tried to ignore the worry pooling deep in his stomach.
What if there is no after?
# # # #
Poe was trying to keep one eye on the dying star and one eye on the hundreds? thousands? Okay, Dameron, tone it down. It’s probably dozens, of TIE fighters currently trying to knock him out of the sky. He was also trying real hard not to worry about Finn or what Finn was doing, and he was really hoping not to get any soulmate visions, unless they were happy visions of Rey being rescued and the Falcon getting the kriff off the planet.
Of course, as he was thinking all of this, he got hit with a vision. There was someone next to him screaming and in the far distance, he could hear a Wookiee’s roar. Then, he watched as Han Solo fell backwards into a chasm. BREATHE POE. He lurched out of the vision and just barely missed clipping a TIE.
Everything is fine, Poe started repeating in his head. Everything is fine.
He stared down at the oscillator. Come on. Come on.
It was getting darker.
Come on, universe. Please don’t let me go out without kissing my soulmate at least once.
# # # #
Rey flying through the air and hitting a tree with a sickening thud…
A red lightsaber and a blue one and Kylo Ren slashing and grunting. So much fear but also so much grit and determination…
Pure, white hot pain as a lightsaber cut through Finn’s shoulder…
Poe was crying as he tried to keep Black One steady through the constant, quick visions he was getting. Please be okay, Finn.
Please.
Yolo was yelling about a hole in the oscillator and Poe was doing the stupid, reckless thing and flying in, and as he was firing shots, he started praying, please let him be okay. Please let them all be okay. Please just get back to the Falcon and leave.
It barely registered as the damn thing started to explode but then Poe remembered, I’m their commander so he started whooping and yelling because that’s what he was supposed to do. But every fiber of his being was focused on the surface of the exploding planet because somewhere down there my soulmate is in a lot of pain.
When he saw the Falcon hovering above the surface, he laughed and leaned his head back. Thank you, he said to the universe. Thank you.
# # # #
Poe slumped in his crappy med-bay chair and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Hmmmmmm?”
The General leaned in the doorway with a smirk. “I asked how long you’ve been here?”
Poe looked around, blinking. “How long’ve I been back?”
Leia rolled her eyes. “Poe.” Her tone held equal parts exasperation and affection. “You do know that you’ll be notified as soon as he wakes up?”
Poe leaned his neck back and tried to wake up. “I know,” he said. “I just… There are things that need saying that we should have said before we left D’Qar and we didn’t and…” He sighed. “Do you know how many damn years I waited for a vision? Any vision? And then I get them, and him, all at once and I don’t say anything! Why in the kriff didn’t I say something?”
Leia smiled and walked over to Poe, pressing her hand into his back and rubbing. “Because he was worried about Rey and you were trying to be a good soldier.”
“And I was scared,” Poe admitted.
Leia raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve been waiting for this for so long, it never occurred to me that it would be,” he bit his lip, “overwhelming.”
Leia chuckled. “Yes,” she said. “I remember that.” She got a faraway look in her eyes. “It helps that you two aren’t fighting all the time.”
Poe laughed. “But I bet that was hot,” he said.
Leia laughed. “Well, there was that…”
After a few moments, Poe asked, “So, what if I screw this up?”
“Sweetheart,” Leia said, wishing that Shara could’ve lived to see how her sweet boy had become an absolutely adorable man, “you won’t screw it up. If nothing else, the very fact that you’re this worried about it bodes well. But also, he’s your soulmate, Poe. The universe generally does a good job with that.”
“But you and Han…”
“Han and I fought, and in the end, we couldn’t share the same space for more than a few weeks at a time, but it still worked, Poe, because that is what we both needed. I’ve got a feeling you and Finn will be different. You’ll have different needs.”
“I guess.”
“Poe, you’re tired. We’ve just moved base, and you’ve been flying missions non-stop. Plus, you’re worried and…” She leaned in and used the don’t-question-my-authority tone, “He’s going to be fine and the two of you are going to be fine. Trust me. Now, I want you to get some rest. And eat. That’s an order.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, trying not to sound sullen and failing.
“Now.”
Poe reluctantly got up and followed her to the mess where she watched him eat and then conscripted Jess to watch him make it back to his own bunk. Jess giggled maniacally, enjoying her newfound power and the fact that it meant she got to manhandle Poe through base.
“Just a quick look in at med-bay, Testor, that’s all—”
“No. Bed,” Jess said, jerking Poe’s arm and dragging him along with her.
“Jeeeeeessssss,” Poe whined.
“No, Poe. Bed. Now.” She shoved him towards his door.
As it opened he said, “Fine. I’m here.”
“Pajamas, Poe.”
“You can’t be serious, Testor.”
“I’m going to watch you get into bed and then I’m putting Bee on guard duty at the door.”
Bee rolled over and trilled with glee.
“Traitor,” Poe muttered under his breath and he walked into the fresher to change.
Jess waited until Poe was snug in his bed before nodding at Bee and letting Poe’s door slide shut behind her. She waited in the hall outside his door for five minutes before she left, but Poe was asleep as soon as the door slid shut.
# # # #
The next morning, Poe walked into Finn’s room. Dr. Kalonia smiled. “Later than usual, Poe.”
“Yeah, the General insisted I sleep in my own room and then ordered Pava to make sure it happened.”
Dr. Kalonia tried to hold back her laughter. “Well, he’s all yours. Let me know if there’s any change.
Poe slid into the chair next to Finn’s bed.
Two hours later, Poe was telling Finn about the time he ended up flying back to base, naked, after losing a bet with a Duros on Tatooine. “But it really wasn’t my fault because Snap—”
There was a moan and Poe’s heart skipped a beat. “Finn?” Poe was up, leaning over Finn’s body. “Finn, buddy?”
Another moan.
Poe burst into a wide smile. “Dr. Kalonia!”
“Finn,” he whispered. “Finn, baby, please open your eyes.”
Finn’s eyes fluttered open and Poe gasped. At once, he was looking at Finn’s beautiful face and his mind was screaming HE’S AWAKE but he was also seeing his own goofy grin through Finn’s eyes and feeling a sense of serenity he’d never felt before.
“Hey mate,” Finn croaked.
“Hey,” Poe said softly.
Dr. Kalonia, two nurses, and a droid came rushing into the room. Poe backed up from Finn’s bed as they started pestering him with questions. Poe dropped into his chair, riding a wave of euphoria. He leaned his arm onto the chair and plopped his chin into his hand, watching Finn answer questions as they slowly raised his bed so he could sit up.
Finn kept turning to smile at him.
Poe winked at Finn.
Finn’s smile grew and he blushed.
Poe blew him a kiss.
Finally, Dr. Kalonia huffed out a breath. “Okay, we all get it. You’re in love! Could you two stop with the googly eyes for a few minutes while we finish Finn’s assessment?”
“Sorry, ma’am,” Finn said.
“Yeah, sorry, doc,” Poe said, still grinning ear to ear.
Fifteen minutes later, Dr. Kalonia and the others left Finn’s room and Poe moved his chair right up next to Finn’s bed. For several moments, neither spoke.
Then, they both started speaking at once.
“How about you go first,” Finn eventually said. He nodded towards a cup, which Poe handed him. As Finn gulped down the liquid, Poe hemmed and hawed. Finn stopped drinking and said, “Poe, we’re mates. It isn’t that hard!”
Poe chuckled. “That’s what the General said.”
Finn raised an eyebrow.
“I was worried that I’d screw this up.”
Finn smiled and then remembered vision after vision of Poe just barely getting his ship out of one scrape or another. “But you weren’t worried when you were nearly crashing your ship?”
“When,” Poe demanded.
“Let’s see…there was the time when I was sparring when I was 13 or the time when I was in the fresher when I was 14 or… Should I do this year by year or group incidents together based on what you were doing when you nearly crashed?”
“Sorry about that,” Poe said, trying to look as contrite as possible.
“No, you’re not,” Finn said.
“I’m really not. Well, not about the flying. I’m sorry about worrying you,” he said. “But I’m here! All in one piece!” He stood, turning slowly. “See? Fully intact!”
Finn smiled. “Good. I hope you intend to keep it that way.”
Poe sat back down, shaking his head. “I just can’t believe after all these years of nothing, I start getting visions back to back and…”
“And we both end up on the Finalizer desperately needing to get off the Finalizer?”
“Yeah,” Poe said, shaking his head. “What are the kriffing odds?”
“We’re soulmates, Poe,” Finn said. “I’m pretty sure the odds against us ever meeting were astronomical. That’s what makes it magical.”
Poe couldn’t help his smile. “Magical, huh?”
Finn shrugged. “Yeah, Dameron, magical. You have a problem with that?”
“None at all,” Poe said, rising and sitting on the side of Finn’s bed. “Just good to know I managed to get myself a romantic mate.”
Finn rolled his eyes. “My guess is you’re even worse than I am.”
Poe scooted forward. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
Poe scooted forward again. “Probably.”
“Probably?”
Poe scooted forward until he was close enough that Finn could feel the heat radiating off his skin. “Definitely?”
“Definitely,” Finn said with a sly smile creeping across his face.
Poe’s eyes darted to Finn’s lips and then back to his eyes. “Yes?”
“Hell yes, Dameron.”
Poe leaned in and kissed his mate.
# # # #
Years later, Poe sat in his son’s bedroom on Yavin IV. He was leaned against a wall with young Kes—named after his grandfather—in-between him and Finn. It was monsoon season and the rain was battering the house. Kes snuggled closer to his dads, listening intently to Poe’s bedtime story.
“…and the Farmboy couldn’t help himself. He had to try. He knew that the odds that he was the Prince’s one true love were astronomical, but he had to know. And true love’s kiss was the only thing that was going to break the sleeping spell. So, he leaned over and he kissed the Prince. And then, you know what happened?”
Kes shook his head, looking up at his father with big brown eyes.
“Well, then, it was the most magical moment of either of their lives. For an instant, it was if they became one person and they were filled with so much happiness and love and…well, needless to say, the enchanted Prince woke up.”
“And did he know,” Kes asked. “Did the Prince know that the Farmboy was his one true love?”
Poe chuckled. “Oh yeah,” he said. “He knew. Because you want to know a secret?”
Kes nodded vigorously.
“Well, the Prince had known for a long time that he was in love with the Farmboy, and he had always secretly hoped that the Farmboy was his one true love. See, the very first time he’d seen the Farmboy, he’d fallen head over heels in love with him.”
Finn chuckled and shook his head. Poe tried to ignore him.
“Really,” Kes asked. “Even though they were enemies?”
“Well, they weren’t really enemies, though,” Poe said. “The Prince had been cursed, remember? The curse forced him to work for the bad sorcerer. But he broke that curse, and that’s what made the sorcerer so mad—because if the Prince could break it, it meant the sorcerer wasn’t as powerful as he thought he was. That’s why the evil sorcerer came after him with that sleeping spell later.” Poe hugged his son a bit closer. “But the Prince, even after he broke through that curse, he didn’t say anything because he was scared that the mean old sorcerer would hurt the Farmboy. Plus, he figured that anyone as brave and daring and bold and charming and—”
Finn started coughing to hide his laughter.
“…um yeah. He figured that the Farmboy wouldn’t be interested in him.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Poe said. “The Farmboy was from a totally different planet, and they had once been enemies, well kind of, and the Prince was so selfless and kind and wonderful,” Poe made a point of looking at Finn over his son’s head and sticking out his tongue. “The Prince was so amazing, but he didn’t see it in himself, so he didn’t realize that the Farmboy could love him too.”
“But then they kissed,” Kes said, smiling.
“Yeah, then they kissed and the sleeping spell was broken, and the Prince woke up. And once the spell was broken, that evil, old sorcerer up and died out of sheer spite. So, the Prince married his Farmboy, and they lived happily ever after.”
“The end,” Kes said.
“The end,” Poe repeated.
“The end,” Finn said. He looked out the window: the rain was easing up a bit. “What do you think, kiddo? Time for bed,” he asked.
Kes nodded. “Can you leave the light on, though?”
“Of course,” Finn said, leaning over and kissing the top of his son’s head. “Anything for you, my young Prince.”
Kes giggled.
Poe picked up Kes and put him under a blanket before tucking him in. He kissed Kes’ forehead.
“Goodnight, Kes,” Finn said.
“Night, Dad. Night, Papa.”
“Night, Kes,” Poe said, closing the bedroom door.
As they walked down the hall to their room, Finn whispered, “So, Farmboy, huh? I guess that means you’re brave and daring and—”
“Married to the most selfless and kind and wonderful man in the galaxy,” Poe said, wrapping his arms around Finn’s waist and kissing his neck. “A true prince if there ever was one.”
“Well, at least you got the part about our first kiss right,” Finn said.
“Oh yeah,” Poe asked, closing their bedroom door with his foot.
Finn stopped walking. “Definitely.” He turned, wrapping his arms around Poe. “The most magical moment of my life. Well, after holding Kes for the first time.”
“Well, yeah,” Poe said, kissing Finn’s nose. He started backing Finn up towards the bed. “So, this magical moment of ours?”
“Ummm-hmmmm,” Finn asked, nuzzling his husband’s neck.
“Care to see if we can recreate it tonight?”
Finn pulled back, raising an eyebrow. “Want to try to create a soulmate vision, do you, Mr. Dameron?”
“Well, we have to make up for all the ones I missed while you were under the evil sorcerer’s curse.”
Finn laughed. “Fine, Farmboy. Let’s see if we can break the curse one more time.”
Poe laughed as the two of them sunk onto their bed. “Oh, my beautiful Prince, I guarantee, this is going to be the most magical kiss of your life!”
# # # #
Thirty minutes later, when Poe and Finn shared a particularly heady soulmate vision of each other, Poe remembered to send out a tiny little thank you to the universe. It had taken twenty years from his first vision to meeting Finn, but in all the time since then, Poe had realized the wait was more than worth it.
Because every day was a soulmate vision with Finn.