Chapter Text
They were releasing him two days earlier than scheduled. Either Finn was a good healer or somebody else worse off needed his cot more than him. Finn didn’t care much either way, he was ready to leave.
Afterall, if this had been the First Order, he’d have been killed weeks ago, when his injury instantly rendered him useless to the Order. Useless stormtroopers were not kept alive.
His dark thoughts were halted by a medical droid that appeared at the side of his bed and held out the folded plain clothes to him and directed, “Please remove your current robe and dress yourself in these garments.”
Finn did as he was told. He was good at that.
A functional divider had been placed to give patients the illusion of privacy as they dressed but it hardly mattered to Finn, who took his time undressing and dressing regardless of who might see. He approached the process with caution as the movements required him to stretch and bend in ways he wasn’t fully comfortable with despite the hours of physical rehabilitation they’d required before releasing him.
The minutes of clumsy fumbling his way into clothes passed and the second Finn stepped out from the divider the droid appeared.
“Please hand over the robe.”
Finn did.
“Thank you,” it droned, “please continue to the checkout desk on your left and have a nice day.”
It rolled off, and Finn was left standing at the end of his bed with nothing but the flimsy clothes on his back and several dozen wounded resistance fighters lying in cots at his sides. Several cots down a nurse was bent over a cot.
He started walking to the left- without needing something to grab onto to steady himself.
He was finally healed.
He was better.
Somehow, he had survived. He had abandoned the First Order, stole Poe from beneath their very noses, chased after Rey, blown up a weapon that in turn blew up entire planets, and for a moment, fought Kylo Ren. He had done all this and survived. Poe had already called him hero. Poe was alive. Rey was alive. He was alive.
Finn reached the checkout desk. Behind it a man sat with his back turned to him, focused on his work.
The man still had not noticed him, so Finn took the moment to adjust his shirt. The hospital handed dozens of them out everyday, Finn would bet, but the Resistance had still taken the effort to make the clothes… decent. The material was soft beneath his fingers and the dull blue was a nice color.
The hospital smocks he’d been wearing before were all off-white. Before that, he’d worn Poe’s brown jacket and his uniform’s black under-armor. Before that, the stark black and white of a stormtroopers armor.
Finn couldn’t remember ever having worn blue before. The pale blue was a shock against his darker skin, but still softer than the white’s and blacks from before. He liked it.
The desk attendant turned around, took one look at what he wore and asked, “Name?”
Whats your name? FN- whaaa? If that's the name they gave you then I ain't using it. I'm calling you-- "Finn," he said, Poe's words echoing in his ears: I'm calling you Finn. That alright with you?
The attendant began searching a data pad for his file.
“First name: Finn, Last name: unincluded, age: 23, admitted… three weeks ago.” The attendant looked up at him expectantly. “Sound familiar?”
“That’s me, I'm Finn."
The attendant promptly adjusted something on the data pad and then looked up again. “You are officially released from the medical wing, Finn. All expenses have been paid for by the resistance. You are free to go. If you need it, the requisitions office is down the hall, four doors down on the right. They can provide you with additional supplies.”
Continue to the checkout desk the droid had told him. Ok, Finn thought, done.
Finding the requisitions office was easy, and he left it with extra clothes, a warning that “the cost of replacements for any and all supplies will be deducted from your pay” (which was troubling since Finn had no pay), name tags he already wore around his neck which proudly read FINN, a key to his temporary room, and a notice stating that he would be informed of his official status in the Resistance at a later date.
Getting the temporary lodging was the only unpleasant part. The requisitions officer, a Twi’lek man, had bluntly told him that he’d chosen just the right time to require lodging because, as the officer had said, “due to the recent events, dozens of rooms have opened up.”
The reminder of all the dead had put a sour taste in Finn’s mouth.
It also rather spoiled the excitement of having his own room for the first time. He found the room easily, a small, nondescript place to sleep that was still nicer than the barracks of the First Order, even if the officer’s words still rung in his ears.
Putting his meager belongings away, Finn collected himself and looked around the room one more time.
Continue to the checkout desk on your left and have a nice day, the droid had said. He’d already found the checkout desk, and a requisitions officer, and his room. Now all that was left was to have a nice day.
It was still early in the day, and Finn was excited to finally be out of his hospital bed and on the move.
He headed towards the hangar, already imagining how surprise would look on Poe’s face. Finn had a good imagination. He started walking faster.