Chapter Text
Finn wakes up with a headache straight from all nine Corellian Hells. His limbs feel heavy, weighted down by a pressure he can't see, either because the world has damned him to a life in eternal darkness, or because he just doesn't have the energy to open his eyelids.
He remembers then, in what feels like an hour-long montage but is likely only a split second, what happened before he was, well, here. He remembers a name―Poe Dameron, a good man, Poe Dameron―and a friendly face. He remembers packing himself into a TIE and breaking free of the First Order only to hurdle into a foreign planet's gravity, shot down by his old comrades.
Everything after that is a blur, a whirl of memories that have been lodged too deep in his brain to be fished out. He thinks he could have simply laid there in agony for days over if it weren't for the sharply cool touch (poke, rather) of a med droid against his neck, feeling for a pulse.
"Stop, stop, m'up, m'up."
Finn waves a hand feebly, attempts to sit up, and is immediately struck with a sharp pain in his chest. A hand quickly pushes him back down onto the bed and a soft voice shushes him.
"It's alright, hey, hey, I'm here, just lay down."
Once the dull ache has mostly subsided, he cracks his eyes open and glances around, sees an almost blindingly sanitary med room, fairly standard. The speaker catches in the corner of his eye, perched eagerly in a chair next to his bed, and he rolls his neck slightly for a better view.
It's a young woman, around his age, with sharp, pretty features and a shocked expression, hazel eyes brimming with tears. She huffs out a sigh of what sounds like relief, squeezing his hand that he didn't realize she'd been holding.
"Oh, Gods, you're awake, you're―I can't believe it, I was so worried, they said you'd be under for another month, at least-"
Finn runs his palm over his face, pulling it out of the stranger's grasp. She's still babbling on, but he's mostly tuned her out, only catching the occasional coma, or awake, or can't believe it. There's a droid beside her, too, a BB unit that's happily trilling away in obvious delight for a reason Finn can't decipher. He's never even seen the thing in his life.
He glances back up at the girl, who brushes away a stray tear and meets his gaze immediately.
"Hey, I know they probably posted you here specifically or something, but can I just get a few minutes alone? You don't have to stay, they can always send in another nurse later."
She simply stares at him, brow furrowed.
OK. Something is clearly up.
He notices that the nurse isn't wearing any sort of uniform or identification, just a simple blouse and capris, and it occurs to him that she might not be a nurse after all.
Her face has suddenly gone cold, pale skin now looking almost ghostly, eyes wide and lips parted. She seems to struggle for words for before speaking again.
"Finn, what are you talking about?"
The woman who is definitely not a nurse pulls her hand back towards her chest, and it's then that he sees the thick golden band around her ring finger, and feels the matching one on his own.
He tries again, tentatively, because he's starting to feel fuzzy and lightheaded, and something is very, very wrong.
"You-I mean, you're my nurse, right? That's why you're here?"
This time, she doesn't respond, just stares at him with wide, sad eyes.
"They didn't...they never said you wouldn't...." She sniffles.
The woman shakes her head and takes a deep breath, and Finn can see her bottom lip trembling slightly. She smiles anew and takes his hand again, gently linking it with hers. Their rings tap against each other with a resounding clink.
"I'm Rey," she whispers softly, voice full of love.
"I'm your wife."