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"Traitor!"
Ren was screaming, the red of his lightsaber shining on his face, revealing all that anger, rage, hatred. Rey was limp in the snow, not moving, not breathing.
Finn couldn't feel her life force.
The saber- Luke Skywalker's lightsaber- was in his own hands, but Finn couldn't turn it on. He couldn't move, for that matter. He was stuck, bare feet planted in the snow.
Why- where were his shoes?
Finn looked down and the earth opened up. He fell. He fell directly into the holding cell, the one he had taken Poe from back on Starkiller. And there was Poe, blood on his face, body limp.
Finn couldn't feel his life force.
All of a sudden Ren was on him, red crackling light reflecting in the eyes of his mask.
Finn screamed, but no sound came.
Ren struck him down, and he was falling again, falling into the jungle of D'Qar. He landed on his feet, and recognized the saber in his hands as his own.
And Ren was there. Again and again, he was there. Tormenting Finn, taunting him. He jeered, nasty words that bit like ice, burned like fire.
"Traitor-"
Finn wanted to scream.
"You are nothing but a number, a nameless soldier-"
He wanted to cry.
"You will submit to the power of the-"
In a burst of pure rage he flipped on his lightsaber, bright yellow heat coming to life before his eyes, and struck down Kylo Ren. He screamed, raw sound leaving his body, anger and fire and hatred.
He struck down Ren. And Phasma. And Hux.
He attacked every First Order officer, commander, and general he could find. There was blood, a foul stench in the air, and by the time he was done they were all dead.
They were all dead.
They were-
Finn collapsed, saber in his hands clattering to the ground in front of him. The blade warped, yellow turning into orange, and then a deep blood red. Angry. Corroded. Broken.
He had done the right thing, right?
The ones he killed, they were First Order. They were bad. They could never be good.
What did that say about him?
Finn staggered to his feet, stumbling over countless bodies. Ren, Hux, Phasma. General Pryde, Admiral Sloane, and-
Kriff
Slip. Jannah. Rose, and Paige. Connix. General Organa, Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, their bodies lifeless on the jungle floor. And there were more, there were so many more.
"No, no no no," Finn ran through the jungle, seeing so many familiar faces. Friendly faces. Bodies of good people, good fighters. Jess, and Snap, and Karè.
And Rey.
And Poe.
Finn screamed and fell to his knees, but the earth opened beneath him, and once again he was falling.
Finn woke up screaming, shaking, crying. He gasped for air, his limbs reaching to shield himself from harm. He shook so violently the bed creaked beneath him. He tried to calm himself, but breathing did nothing to ease his shaking.
And so he cried.
He curled around his pillow, burying his face in the soft fabric. He cried and cried, all the pent up fear, anger and doubt pouring out of his body. He cried until his tears ran dry, and then he cried some more, dry sobs heaving out of his chest, shaking him to his core, and when it was finally done, he was tired.
He was so achingly tired, exhausted from the whole ordeal, but his bed just didn't feel right anymore. His bed felt too big, his room too cold. He was alone.
Finn didn't want to be alone.
He got out of bed, cold air stripping away the last bits of warmth clinging to his bare skin, but that didn't matter. He'd be warm soon enough.
Finn squinted in the bright light of the hallways, passing door after identical door until he came to Poe's room. He didn't bother knocking, simply let himself in and crawled into bed beside Poe. The covers were soft, and just a bit heavier than Finn's own. The weight of them kept him grounded.
"Finn?" Poe asked, going stiff then relaxing as Finn curled into the warmth of his body. He wrapped an arm around Finn's shoulders to hold him close, kissing his head. "Is everything alright? Baby you're shaking," he murmured.
He was worried, Finn could tell. He didn't want Poe to worry. "It's nothing, really. Just a nightmare."
"You wanna talk about it?" Poe's voice was sleepy but sincere, "I'm always here for you, Finn. Always."
Finn nodded. He knew Poe was there for him, every minute of every day. Poe loved him, cared for him, believed in him. He could talk to Poe.
"I was-" he started, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I was on Starkiller again, fighting Ren, and Rey was… Rey was dead and there was nothing I could do to save her and then the earth just opened up and I was in the cell where you were, and you were dead and Ren was there, too, and-" tears were welling up again.
Poe's lips brushed against his hairline, reassuring him, urging him on.
"And then I was here on D'Quar, Ren was taunting me and I just- I killed him. I flipped on my saber and I killed them all, every First Order general and admiral and commander I could find, and when I finished my saber was red, and the bodies, they-" he choked, tears spilling down his cheeks. "They weren't just First Order. They were resistance too. Jannah and Kaydel, Rose and Paige, Leia, Luke, Han…" he trailed off. "And Rey. And You."
Poe shushed him gently, "baby that's not you, that's not-"
"I know that's not me, that I'm not them, but I can't help thinking… what if I am like them?" His voice was quiet, vulnerable. All the doubts he put away every day were surfacing again. The question he asked himself in the night when he was alone, or when he felt the pure fire of rage burning deep in the pit of his stomach. The question that came to mind with every look, every stare, all the people whispering behind his back. What if they're right?
"No, no. You are-" Poe pulled him flush against his chest, rubbing a hand up and down his back. "You are nothing like them. You're brave and loyal and kind, and you are better than they could ever hope to be. You are good, Finn. You're a good man."
Finn knew that. Deep down he knew he was good, knew he was different from them. That didn't mean doubts didn't hold him down from time to time.
Finn sighed, deep and quiet, the aching tiredness seeping back in. He closed his eyes, too tired to speak, too tired to do anything but curl closer into Poe's warmth and sleep. The last thing he heard before drifting off was Poe's quiet voice, singing to him.
"I'll keep you safe / Try hard to concentrate / Hold out your hand / Can you feel the weight of it / the whole world at your fingertips / don't be, don't be afraid…"