Chapter Text
When the remaining pilots of the Resistance fighter squadrons set course for the base on D'Qar, flushed with their success at Starkiller Base, Poe Dameron was convinced that nothing could dim the glory of what they had done. They may have lost comrades, but against all odds they had won the battle.
“Hey, Poe, d'you think they'll give us medals?” Snap's voice came over the comms, still slightly out of breath with adrenaline.
Poe grinned. “What, in a big ceremony or something?”
“Yeah. With dress uniforms and music and that sort of thing.” Snap's tone became more and more eager as he went on. “Receiving medals from the General herself wouldn't be that bad.”
Blue Three—Jessika Pava—joined the conversation with a wry chuckle. “If any of us pilots gets a medal, it'll be Poe and Poe alone. He's the one who did most of the damage.”
“By flying inside like a crazy bastard,” Snap chuckled. “He's trying too hard.”
“Hey, if I get a medal, they'd sure as hell'd better have one for Finn and Han. And Chewie, too,” said Poe hurriedly. Nearly forgot about him. Bad idea to forget about a Wookiee.
“Finn, Finn, Finn,” said Snap in a singsong voice. “The way you keep talking, he must be a pretty special guy.”
“Wexley...” said Pava, her tone somewhat exasperated.
“Sorry, Jess,” said Snap sheepishly.
“I'm not the one you should be apologizing to.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, Poe.”
“Heh. Lucky for you, I'm in a good mood,” said Poe with a chuckle. “Let's cut the chatter for now. This isn't over until we've landed.”
As the radio fell silent, the smile on Poe's face turned slightly wry. Well, Snap was right. Finn is a pretty special guy.
The light on his comm panel began blinking, a signal that someone was hailing him on a private channel, and he rolled his eyes as he accepted the call. “Snap, what did I just—”
The voice that interrupted him was unfamiliar: a young woman's voice, somewhat strained. “Are you... Poe Dameron?”
“Uhh, yes.” He racked his brain for a name. “You're... are you Rey? The one my buddy Finn went after, with Han Solo?”
There was a slight hesitation before the answer, as if there was a catch in her voice. “I... yes. That's me.”
Poe sighed in relief, a smile spreading across his face. “They got you out, then. And the shields, too. We wouldn't have been able to do this without him.”
“...yes.” Once again, a monosyllabic answer. This Rey, whoever she was, wasn't particularly talkative—that much seemed apparent.
“Hey, Rey, could you put Finn on? I want to congratulate him on a job well done.”
There was another moment of hesitation, and Poe felt a rising sense of unease. When Rey spoke again, he suddenly understood everything—the hesitation, the short responses, the wavering tone.
She was doing everything she could to keep from crying.
“Finn is... he...”
Feeling as if icy fingers had closed around his heart, Poe listened to everything she had to say.
---
After he had landed, Poe rushed over to the landing pad assigned to the Millennium Falcon, desperate to see Finn as soon as he got off the ship. He had already called ahead, making sure that a medical crew would be waiting the moment that they touched down.
He waited anxiously at a safe distance, a crowd gathering around him as he watched the Falcon fly in. The news of what had happened on the base's surface had spread like wildfire. General Organa stood stiffly to one side, her back ramrod-straight, seeming to loom large in her resolve despite her diminutive stature.
At last, the freighter settled into position. There were a few moments of tense quiet before the landing ramp descended and the remaining crew staggered out.
Poe barely had time to spare a glance for Rey—disheveled, tattered, disbelief and sorrow etched into every line of her pretty face—before his eyes were drawn to Finn. His friend lay limply in Chewbacca's arms, looking more dead than alive, the jacket he'd gotten from Poe slashed and burned. He fought with Ren?
He watched anxiously as the medics settled Finn onto the back of their cart, feeling at the former stormtrooper's wrists and throat for a pulse. Poe was terrified they would find nothing—Ren was not known for sparing his enemies. But after a moment that felt more like an eternity, one of the medics looked up. “We've got a heartbeat!”
The cart began moving. Poe jogged to keep up with it, ignoring the crowd around him. His friends would understand that he needed to be at Finn's side. It was the least he could do.
---
“You know,” said Poe, staring at the wall, “I never got around to thanking you properly.”
Finn didn't say anything. Poe hadn't expected him to.
“I mean, I suppose that I did thank you. A bit. But you saved my life, and a bit of thanks doesn't really cut it for that.”
More silence.
“I hadn't really expected to get out of that ship alive. After cracking under Ren's pressure, I barely thought that I deserved to. But you gave me a reason to keep on living. You needed my help as much as I needed yours.”
He rested one of his hands gently on top of Finn's, where it lay on top of the infirmary bed's sheets. “Without you, all of us would be dead. Me, Snap, Jess, and all the other pilots owe you our lives. Hell, if I'd gotten a medal, I'd pass it on to you right now.”
He looked over at his old jacket, taking in once again the long char marks inflicted by Ren's lightsaber. “You've been through a lot. I wish I could talk about it with you, but—”
He heard someone clear their throat and turned to see Snap standing awkwardly in the doorway. “Poe?”
“Yes?”
“They want us in the main comm room,” Snap said, his tone apologetic. “Something about the map being complete?”
Poe felt a surge of excitement. “I'll be right there.”
As Snap headed down the hallway, Poe turned back to the comatose Finn. One hand went out, almost of its own volition, tracing down the other man's arm in a reassuring gesture.
“Just sleep well, buddy,” he whispered. “I'll be here for you when you wake up.”