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Finn tracks Poe down to the creche, taking Kare’s shift. The two of the have been flying under the radar like this for months. It takes two hours out of his downtime, but when Finn asks if he minds, Poe shrugs, laughs about it.
“Kare isn’t a kid person. She scares the crap outta most adults.”
Finn can’t disagree with that so he doesn’t, comes and sits by Poe on the floor instead, cross legged as if they’re both at Assembly, waiting for something to happen. Turns out, they are. Two of the older kids, stringy and excitable, come running over from the corner of the room. One of them is dressed in white, an oversized t-shirt draped down to their knees. It’s Poe’s, it’s got ‘Commander Dameron’ in block letters on the back, from his Starfleet days when away days and team bonding activities were formalised enough for custom shirts and simulated combat scenarios instead of communal heavy drinking and ten years out of date flight sims.
The kid in Poe’s tshirt bounds over to Finn. “Can we borrow your jacket? We need it.”
“You need it?”
“Yeah! We’re putting on a play-”
“Of the time you rescued Poe.”
“He didn’t have the jacket then, dumb dumb, he got it when they crashed.”
“Here,” Finn strips it off, tries not to get distracted by way Poe can’t help but watch him. It’s so recent, the revelation that Poe’s been watching and wanting like Finn’s been watching and wanting and it heats his blood. “You’re playing Poe, yeah? Have it.”
The kid who’s pretending to be Poe beams and says, “Thanks, buddy!” And Finn laughs because it’s so on point, turns to Poe to laugh about it with him it’s only then that he notices how forced it Poe’s own laughter is. The way he’s sat, hands clasped together between his knees, tension cording through him, coming to a point in the line of his jaw. He looks like he’s bracing himself for a crash. Finn shifts a little closer.
“You okay there, man?”
“Sure.” Poe’s eyes keep facing forward, zoned in on something that isn’t Finn, that isn’t the kids getting ready to unveil their play version of Poe’s near death experience either. “Sure, bud.”
Finn should stop it. He should find different story to tell, suggest they skip to another bit of this story but he hasn’t got any reason to but Poe and the way he’s waiting tensed like he knows what’s coming next is gonna hurt. Finn’s opening his mouth to when the kid who’s meant to be him, who’s wearing Poe’s clothes even before they meet him, turns to the kid who’s meant to be Poe and says,
“You gotta lie down on the floor cos you’ve been captured. But you gotta be brave and not make noises cos that’s how Mam says brave people act. Right?” They both turn excited eyes on Poe, completely invested in their make believe. “That’s what happened.”
“That’s what happened, buddy.” Poe says and Finn watches him paper on the smile. The kid on the floor lies there and doesn’t do much. Finn sees Poe, tapped out and bloodied, sweat soaked. Can still remember the animal noises he made. He’d never heard someone sound like that, like they were being torn out of themselves. He looks at Poe but Poe’s not looking anywhere else but ahead.
“I'm Finn and I'm here to rescue you! Let’s get outta here!”
“I’m gonna fly the tie fighter because I'm Poe Dameron and I'm the best pilot in the Resistance! You shoot those storm troopers!”
“Pew pew pew pow! I'm gonna blow them all up!”
The kids run in circles around the room, throw themselves into the seats of an imaginary Tie, side by side, not back to back.
“Quick fire at them while I fly away! And get those turbolasers!”
“Yeah I got them! Pew pew! Where are we going now?”
“I gotta get my buddy BB8 back! He’s my best friend.”
Finn laughs at that, a warm huff, tries to draw Poe back to himself by making light of it all. “They’ve got you down, man.”
“Yeah?” Poe’s working hard at keeping his voice level. “The best pilot in the Resistance bit, huh?”
“The did you have any other friends before I turned up or was it just your droid bit.” Finn catches his eye and Poe dredges up a smile for him. Finn’s never seen something so faked and all the words he could have said dry up.
“Oh no we’re crashing! Ahhhh!” The children throw themselves around the playroom, collapse into a heap until, too excited to stay still for long, they bound over to Poe. “Was that how it happened? Was it?”
“Sure, pal. Just how it happened.”
“What was it like when you saw Finn? Did you think he was handsome?”
Poe’s laugh is quiet and it’s hard won but it’s there. “Yeah,” he says, his voice soft. “Course I did. The most beautiful thing I ever saw.”
“Does Kylo smell? My big sister says he smells bad.”
“Oh yeah?” Poe asks, doesn't say, I couldn't smell him over the blood and the fear and the sweat. He’d wet himself with the pain. He doesn't say that either.
“Yeah! Not like you and Finn. You smell nice. Which bit should we do next? The Jakku bit? I wanna be Rey! Will you be BB8, Poe? Will you? Will you? I can't speak binary yet.”
Finn turns to tell him something, he doesn’t know what, that it’s time to go for dinner, that he’s pretty sure he heard Jess calling for them so they should go, right? But Poe’s already put on a smile, chirruping out a string of binary he learned from years with his astromech.
“What did that mean?”
“It meant sure thing, buddy.”
The kid wearing Poe’s jacket giggled. “Droids don't say buddy.”
“This one does.” Poe wraps his arms around his knees, becomes ball like. “Man, I wish I could turn my head three sixty.” He wobbles on the spot and chirps and the kids giggle, running in circles around him. Finn, watching it, starts to wonder if he’s read this all wrong, made assumptions he shouldn’t have made about just how tough the best pilot in the Resistance is. But then the kids turn away and Poe’s smile slips and Finn thinks, nah, nah no one’s that tough. No one. Not even Poe and man, knowing that has got to be killing him.