Chapter Text
Poe awoke, tied to a chair in a dim room. Kriff, he thought. He slowly raised his head, his neck stiff from what he guessed were several hours of his head hanging limp. He stretched it, letting out a groan.
There was movement nearby. Poe tensed, trying for the life of him to figure out an angle. Get them talking. Get them talking and see what they want. Someone opened a door and came in. They walked to the far side of the room, grabbed another chair and drug it over.
Poe tried to memorize every line of his captor, every scar, anything that might help him get a read on the situation. Not anyone I know, Poe thought as he studied the man. Whoever he was, he was mostly hidden by shadows, but he looked to be about 5’8” or 5’9”, well proportioned. Young, Poe thought, as the man sat down across from Poe with a smirk on his face.
“I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure,” Poe drawled out.
The man’s smirk turned into a smile. “Oh, I know you, Mr. Dameron, although I doubt you’ve ever seen me.”
Poe pulled against the ropes holding him to the chair.
The man put his right ankle on his left leg and leaned back. “Poe Dameron,” he said, “Ex-Air Force. Founder of Alliance Energy. Gave it all up three years ago so that he could spend his time giving his money away.” The man shook his head. “Estimated worth was close to half a billion then, but I think it’s a bit less now.”
“You want money,” Poe bit out.
“No.”
Poe was visibly surprised at that, but he quickly recovered. “A favor, then? Or am I leverage?”
The man laughed. “You don’t rattle easily.” He shrugged. “But I already knew that.”
Poe squinted, trying to get a better look at the man. He was handsome, with a warm kind of smile and... Poe blinked. He’s a bad guy, Dameron. “So, you’ve been following me?”
“You could say that,” the man said.
Poe waited for clarification. When none came, he said, “You gonna tell me or we just gonna stare at each other all night?”
The man got up. “As nice as that might be, how would you like to take a walk, Mr. Dameron?”
Poe chuckled. “Sure. Untie me. Let’s go for a walk.”
The man walked behind Poe. “I’m going to untie you, but you have to promise to be good.”
Poe snorted.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
Poe rolled his eyes. “You tied me to a kriffing chair, buddy.”
“So I did,” the man said, pulling at the ropes.
As soon as Poe felt them give, he jumped from the chair and turned, swinging.
The other man stepped back and calmly said, “Mr. Dameron, I said to play nice.”
Poe took another swing. The man caught his hand and spun Poe, grabbing both of his arms behind his back. He then pushed Poe towards the nearest wall, pressing his own body into Poe’s. He leaned in, his lips at Poe’s ear. “I’ll repeat, Mr. Dameron, play nice.”
“Fine,” Poe hissed out.
“Really?”
“Yes,” Poe said.
The man stepped back and let Poe go.
Poe shook his arms and legs, stretching after being seated for so long.
The man walked to the door. He opened it and gestured for Poe to go out.
Poe kept his eyes on the man as he tentatively walked past him. “This some sort of game?”
“Not at all, Mr. Dameron.” He walked across the dim hall, stepped up to another door, and opened it. Inside, it looked like a typical living room—there was a huge couch, a big screen tv, and several other chairs and side tables. At the back, there was a small desk with a lamp on it.
It looked nice, but Poe didn’t trust it.
Still, he walked in.
“Please have a seat,” the man said, gesturing to the couch.
Poe sat as the man turned on the tv. Poe then froze as he watched footage of himself leaving his house. Then, there was footage of him at a meeting. Jogging in the park. At the opera. “What…”
The man was standing behind Poe. “Typical surveillance package. Most of this stuff is from last year.”
Poe turned to look at the man. “I...what…”
The man turned off the tv and walked to the desk. He picked up a manila folder and brought it over. He let it fall into Poe’s lap before sitting next to him. “Read it.”
Poe opened the folder and saw his life story laid out. There were pictures, social security numbers, his parents’ names and information… Poe looked up. “What is all this?”
“Let me tell you a story, Mr. Dameron,” the man said. “Three years ago, you left Alliance Energy. You sold off your shares and put the company into the hands of one Miss Rey Kenobi, and by all accounts, she is doing tremendous work there. Over the years at Alliance, you’d managed to make a few enemies. But those were small potatoes.” The man rose and started walking. “No, the problems really began after you left and you took your fortune and started investing. The money to the scientists working on climate change. Contributions to the SPLC. Grants for students studying environmental science and social justice—no matter where they came from. Hell, you’ve sponsored more undocumented students than…” The man shook his head. “You caught the eyes of some really dangerous people.”
“What? Giving my money away is bad?”
The man laughed. “Not at all, but you seem to be trying to make the world a better place—and you’re actually seeing results.” He started walking again. “I don’t think these people would’ve minded in the least, if you were just tossing your money around, but you’ve been smart, and more importantly, the people and projects you’ve been funding have been smart.” He stopped and faced Poe. “You’ve been making a real difference in the world.”
“And that’s a problem?”
“In a sense.”
“I don’t follow.”
The man crossed his arms. “It’s why they hired me to kill you.”
Poe’s breath caught. “They what,” he managed.
The man went to the far side of the room, through a door, and came back a minute later with two glasses in his hands. He held one in front of Poe. “You’ll feel better when you drink.”
“I seriously doubt that.”
The man laughed. “Take the water and drink, Dameron.”
Poe did as he was told. He started sipping but pretty soon he had gulped down the entire glass. As he wiped his arm across his mouth, the man asked, “Feel better?”
“Not really.”
The man laughed. “Didn’t think so.”
“So, I’m here to…” Poe looked up at him with the saddest eyes the man had ever seen. “You’re gonna kill me,” Poe whispered.
The man set his glass down and went back to the couch. He sat down next to Poe. “Let me tell you another story.”
“But,” Poe started. The man pressed a finger to Poe’s lips.
“Once upon a time, there was a small boy who was kidnapped from his family and raised by a paramilitary organization, known as the First Order.”
Poe frowned.
“Heard of them?”
Poe nodded.
“Anyway, the First Order trained this boy to be an assassin. From the time he was five, until he was in his twenties, they taught him how to kill, cheat, and steal. And he was very good at it.” The man looked away from Poe. “But, while they tried to indoctrinate him into their politics, it never took. And on his first solo assignment out in the field, he bolted. He went deep underground, constructed a new identity and…” He turned back to Poe. “The boy had intended to go straight, but he saw the evil that the First Order was doing in the world, and he knew he couldn’t just let it be.” The man stood, his back to Poe. “So, the boy used his training and started hitting back at the Order.” He looked at Poe over his shoulder. “That meant he had to run in some pretty dangerous circles, deal with some pretty slimy people over the years, but…” He shook his head, falling silent as he got lost in his thoughts.
Eventually, Poe couldn’t help himself. “What does this have to do with me?”
The man turned, examining Poe. “Eighteen months ago, the First Order put a hit out on you. I accepted it under an assumed name, but I guess they were either on to me or they had several assassins lined up for the job.” He sat down and reached for the remote. The tv flicked back on. He pressed a button and Poe saw a conference he had attended two years ago.
“Boston,” the man said. “You tripped going up to the podium.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Saved your life,” the man said. He froze the image. “See that puff of smoke, just as you walk up to talk?” He zoomed in on the corner of the image.
“You’re saying that’s…”
The man nodded. “His name was Mitaka. I got to him before he could get a second shot off.” He pressed a button. “Beijing, last year.”
“Kriff, Poe said. It was pictures of him visiting a university in China. “But I…” He looked over to the man.
“Do you remember falling out of your car on the way to a luncheon?”
“Yes, but—”
“Her name was Phasma. People called her the Captain.” He shook his head. “She couldn’t take the shot because you fell. Gave me time to get to her.” He pressed another button. “San Diego. Meeting with U.O. Statura and some of the other organizers of the Rebellion Group.”
“When I fell off my bike,” Poe said.
The man chuckled. “Yep. You are one clumsy son-of-a-gun, but it’s managed to save your life.” A grainy picture of a mean-looking old man appeared on the tv. “His name was Tarkin.”
The man started to press the button to go to the next picture when Poe put his hand over the man’s. “No. No more.” He fell back into the couch, closing his eyes. “How many?”
“Attempts on your life?”
Poe nodded.
“Seven.”
“Kriff,” Poe whispered. “You have anything stronger than water?”
The man chuckled. “Sure.”
Poe felt the couch dip as the man got up. A few minutes later, the man cleared his throat. Poe opened his eyes to see the man right in front of him, a glass of something dark and smoky in front of him. “Definitely sip this.”
Poe nodded, taking the glass. After his first sip, he asked, “You have a name?”
“Have lots of names.”
Poe closed his eyes. “Could you just be straight with—”
“Finn,” the man said, sitting down next to him. “Call me Finn.”
Poe sighed. “Okay, Finn, so you’re telling me that this evil organization wants me dead, and they’ve been trying for nearly two years to murder me but that…” He shook his head and took another drink.
“But that your dumb luck and my skill have been keeping you alive,” Finn finished. “Yes.”
“Kriff,” Poe said. He took another drink. “What was with the whole set-up earlier?”
“Sorry about that. Needed it to look real, so I could send pictures to some interested parties.” He looked a bit conflicted as he said, “and in a little bit, I’m afraid we’re going to have to ruin your suit.”
“Huh?”
“Well, I need to show them that you’re dead, so I have some friends of mine coming—and we’re going to stage your death.”
“Kriff,” Poe said, taking another drink. “So, I’m just supposed to die?”
“For about two weeks, yes,” Finn said. “That should give me enough time to root out who exactly hired the hit and dismantle their operation.”
“But I’ve got—”
“Mr. Dameron, this is the only way I can ensure that these people will stop coming after you.” Finn finished off his drink and rose. “I know it’s a lot to take in—”
“You think?”
“—but I assure you, this is the only way to make sure you’re going to be safe.”
Poe closed his eyes, trying to let everything sink in. Suddenly, he sat up. “My cat!”
“What?”
“I have a cat, orange and white markings, one of a kind.” He looked up at Finn. “Its name is BB-8. I can’t just leave it.” Poe stood, starting forward. “We have to go—”
Finn took Poe’s shoulders gently. “Bee is already at your friend Jess’ house with a note that you needed to leave town.”
“Jess hates cats.”
Finn raised an eyebrow. “It was the best I could do on short notice.”
“Yeah, right.” Poe nodded. “Thanks.”
Finn let Poe go. “You’re welcome.” He walked to the back of the room.
“What exactly am I supposed to do for the next two weeks?”
Finn gestured around. “Feel free to roam the bunker.” He nodded to a door at the far end of the room. “I’ve made up the guest room for you and there’s a fully stocked kitchen on the other side. The only room that’s locked is my office, so don’t go in there, but…” He shrugged. “Play a lot of Madden?”
Poe closed his eyes. “Bathroom?”
“Yeah,” Finn chuckled. “Through the bedroom. There’s a huge marble tub, if you want to use it.”
“Yeah,” Poe said, loosening his tie. “I think that might be a good idea.”
# # # #
Three hours later, after Poe had had another drink and a long bath, he felt somewhat better.
Up until the moment he had to put his suit back on and go sit in the chair he’d woken up in. Thankfully, he wasn’t tied up this time.
A thin man with huge eyes smiled at Poe as he dabbed makeup on Poe’s face. “How bad do you want it to look?”
Finn walked over, staring down at Poe. “Like I roughed him up,” he said.
The other man nodded.
Poe’s leg was jiggling and his fingers were drumming on the arms of the chair as the new guy—Bastian—hummed and worked to make it look as if he had a black eye. Bastian’s eyes caught his and he stilled. He gave Poe a small smile. “It’s okay, sweetie. Finn and I know what we’re doing.”
There was noise in the hall and Poe jumped. Bastian turned to Finn.
“That’ll be Snap,” Finn said.
Bastian closed his eyes. “Dear lord,” he muttered. Then, he smiled at Poe. “Snap is our resident special effects expert. He’ll be handling the gunshot wounds.”
Poe must’ve looked worried because Bastian hastened to add, “They’re squibs. Harmless.” He patted Poe’s hand. “Trust us, sweetie.”
Poe closed his eyes. “Sure.” He heard Finn and the other man come in.
“…and I was thinking just straight on, right to the chest.”
“Yeah, no head shots. That’s way too involved.”
“And I need proof of death anyway,” Finn added.
Poe opened his eyes to find a burly man with a short beard standing in front of him. “Hi! I’m Snap. I’m going to be killing you today.”
Poe forced a weak smile.
Bastian swatted Snap’s arm. “I think he’s a little sensitive about that, Snap.”
“Oh yeah,” Snap said. “Uh, sorry?”
Poe nodded.
Finn smiled and leaned in. “It’s looking good, Bastian.”
“Of course, it is,” Bastian said, sharing a wink with Poe.
Poe closed his eyes. “Uh, could you all just give me a…” He pushed himself up. “I just need a second.” He walked out of the room and into the hall. He walked down a few feet before leaning back. He took a deep breath. And then another.
He heard the door open and footsteps coming his way. He sensed someone standing in front of him. He opened his eyes to see Finn. “You okay?”
“No,” Poe said.
Finn smiled. “Lot to take in?”
Poe nodded. “I…it’s just…” He closed his eyes and leaned back again. His eyes were watery. “Someone wants me dead,” Poe whispered. “Someone hates me enough to want me dead.” He swallowed hard, tears on his cheeks.
“Poe,” Finn said quietly. “Poe, it’s okay.” He grabbed Poe’s shoulders and pulled him forward. “I’m sorry I sprung all this on you, but I saw an opportunity and I took it. I couldn’t…” He shook his head. “They were sending some really nasty people after you, and eventually your luck was going to run out.” He could feel Poe shudder and then, Poe’s arms wound around his waist, his forehead settling on Finn’s shoulder. Finn’s chest tightened. He brought a hand up to pet Poe’s head. “Shhhhh, it’s okay.” He closed his eyes.
Bastian opened the door and stuck his head out.
Finn looked over and mouthed, not now.
Bastian nodded and quietly closed the door.
A few moments later, Poe leaned back. “I’m good.” He started wiping his eyes.
“Poe, it’s okay to be scared and overwhelmed. Kriff, I can’t imagine what it must feel like.”
Poe licked his lips. “It feels like I’m in Wonderland or the Upside-Down or…”
Finn laughed, “Or the darkest timeline?”
Poe laughed. “Yeah.”
Finn squeezed Poe’s shoulders. “You’re gonna be fine. I promise.”
Poe met Finn’s eyes. “Why are you doing this? Why are you helpin’ me?”
Finn gave Poe a tiny lopsided smile. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”
# # # #
Two hours later, Poe, Finn, Bastian, and Snap stood around looking at the footage they’d shot of Poe’s “assassination.”
“Looks good,” Snap said.
“I’d buy it,” Bastian said.
“Great,” Poe said without feeling.
Finn paused the playback. “Should work.” He walked over to his desk, opened a drawer and pulled out two large stacks of cash, handing one to Snap and one to Bastian. “Thank you, gentlemen.”
“Always,” said Snap.
Bastian gave Poe a quick hug. “You’re going to be fine, sweetie. Get some sleep.”
“Yeah,” Snap said. “You look dead on your feet.”
Bastian groaned, walking over and slapping Snap’s arm.
“What?”
“Can’t you see he’s traumatized?”
“Sorry,” Snap said.
Poe nodded and walked to the couch.
“Goodbye,” Bastian said, pulling Snap towards the door.
Poe fell onto the couch.
“Do you want something to eat?”
Poe shook his head.
“Poe?”
Poe shrugged. “I want to go home and wake up and have this not be real.”
Finn nodded. “Well, I can offer you some lasagna and then, maybe some Overwatch?”
“Okay,” Poe said.
Finn walked over and took Poe’s arm, pulling him up off the couch.
“Do you have any ice cream?”
Finn threw back his head as he laughed. “Any flavor you want.”