Chapter Text
Finn hates crashing. Hates falling out of the sky, hates watching the ground rush up to meet them, hates the swooping feeling in his stomach, hates the momentary uncertainty of whether this is the end.
They're falling fast – too fast for Finn to do anything about – and he hates that he can't see Poe’s face from the back seat of this borrowed x-wing.
He thinks Poe might be shouting over the sound of the alarms, but it's all distant to Finn, who feels like he's inside a bacta tank, everything quiet, far away. He leans forward, fumbling his hand until his fingers find Poe’s shoulder, and he holds on, grip tight as he can make it. There's another moment of falling, of that lurching in his stomach, and then Poe's fingers are wrapping around his own, prying them off his shoulder to thread them together the best he can.
"I love you," Finn says to the static in his helmet, the comms systems fried. "I love you, I love you."
He squeezes Poe’s hand as they hit the ground, and falls into blackness.
Finn wakes up to the smell of smoke. He blinks for a moment, processing, and then jerks up, fighting against his seatbelt to get it off. He's still inside the x-wing, or what's left of it. The top of the cockpit is gone, the remains resting on its side; Finn falls hard against the edge of it when he gets his seatbelt loose. He stands, looking over the edge of the cockpit at the rest of the wreckage. Both of the left wings are detached and smoking several clicks away, and there's pieces of the ship scattered in the dirt streak they created. The right wings are still attached, though barely, hanging at an angle with the edges in the dirt, flames taking their time at consuming the wreckage.
Poe.
Finn would know if he's dead, knows he would know, and it doesn't –
He scrambles around the mangled remains of the pilot seat and exhales so heavily he nearly falls when he sees Poe still buckled in. The relief fades as quickly as it came, though, Finn's veins chilling as he takes in the blood on Poe’s face, the sharp angle of his arm, the coldness of his signature.
"No, no, no," Finn mutters, quickly moving pieces of the cockpit out of the way, carefully undoing the buckles of the pilot's seat. Poe falls forward, heavy, head landing over Finn's shoulder as he half-carries, half-drags him out of the cockpit.
Finn lays him on the ground, hands coming to the sides of his face. He finds a gash behind Poe’s ear, a deep cut bleeding sluggishly into his hair. His body is covered in cuts and scrapes, bones bent and bruised, and he's not dead, he's not, but he's heading quickly in that direction.
The faint but distinctive sound of a First Order scout ship floats across the forest at the same time Poe starts coughing, deep, painful sounds that shake his shoulders. He blinks bleary, bloodshot eyes up at Finn and offers him a faint smile.
"Hey, baby," he says, voice thin, and then frowns. "Why do you feel so sad?"
Poe brings the hand of his good arm up, searching weakly for Finn. Finn grabs onto his hand, holds it tightly.
"Hey," Finn says, and he's barely keeping himself from crying. He holds Poe’s hand against his cheek. "Things don't look so good for us, here."
Poe rolls his head to the side, takes in the burning wreck of the x-wing. "Well," he says, then coughs again. He rolls his head back to Finn. "I've handled worse."
Finn huffs. "Of course you have," he says. The sound of the scout ship gets louder, the birds flying from the trees around them. In no time they'll be surrounded by First Order troopers sent to kill them, and they're stuck here in the open, unprotected.
Poe squeezes his hand. "You'll be okay," he says, and Finn nearly chokes on the sharp grief in his chest at the certainty in Poe’s voice. "Get out of here."
"Not a chance," Finn says voice hard, tears falling steadily down his cheeks. "I won't leave you."
"We both can't get out of this," Poe says, and his voice is thinner now, breathing labored. Finn can feel his presence slipping, growing dimmer, colder. "Go, baby, please."
"No." Finn shakes his head, tears falling onto Poe’s skin. "I'm not leaving you."
Poe weakly shakes his head. "I love you," he murmurs, and he flicks his eyes around Finn's face, at once longing and resigned. "I'm sorry," he says, and Finn watches his eyes close, his hand going slack in Finn's own.
He stares, for a moment utterly lost. Poe is slipping from him, Force signature fading quickly, and Finn grasps desperately at it, refusing to let him go. He curls his body over Poe’s, hands in the dirt on either side of him, and he turns his face to the sky.
"You can't take him from me!" he yells, calling all his power to him, calling the power of the forest, of this planet. A wind picks up around them as his hands shake, fingertips starting to burn. "You can't have him!" The words leave his throat raw, the Force leaves his body swaying and sweating, but Poe’s breathing smooths, his signature warming, and Finn knows he's kept him.
The scout ship lands near the remains of the left wings, and the old, familiar sound of trooper armor shifting follows. Finn looks at Poe, at the smooth lines of his face, and he lets go of Poe’s hand slowly as he stands and turns. Over the top of the overturned cockpit, he can see the troopers fanning out around the wreck, blasters sharp black against the white of their uniforms. As if moving in slow motion, Finn turns over his shoulder to glance again at Poe, flexing his hands, and then he's facing the First Order. There's a blaster somewhere in the cockpit, he thinks, but he doesn't need it – the truth of that settles into his bones, floods his veins with power.
He's unprotected, standing up here, the wreck of the cockpit too short to shield him; he's hopelessly outnumbered, one man against a dozen; and he's exhausted, the effort of keeping Poe alive draining his strength rapidly. The wind whips at the loose pieces of his clothes as he watches the troopers take aim, blasters raised and aimed at him.
This is it, he thinks, Poe's signature heavy on his mind – he wins here or they both die, and this is the end. He looks at his hands, turning them over to look at the lines on his palms, and the Force sings to him, sings through him.
At the same time the troopers pull their triggers, Finn throws his arms out, head tilted to the sky. He doesn't hear it, but his throat is sore from his scream, and he feels the faint presence each trooper has vanish like candle flames when he clenches his hands into fists.
He stumbles forward at the same time the bodies of the troopers fall to the ground, hands on his knees as he takes ragged breaths that aren't deep enough, gasping for air.
Poe.
He trips over his feet in his rush to return to Poe, hindered by his shaking knees. He collapses on the ground beside Poe, folding himself over Poe’s chest. His whole body is quivering, in exhaustion or something else, Finn doesn't know, but they're safe now. He finds Poe’s good hand with his own, holding on.
Rey finds them, later – Finn doesn't remember passing out, but he wakes to Rey's white sashes and her concerned eyes, her hand on his shoulder.
"Poe," Finn says, voice much hoarser than he expected. He picks himself off Poe enough for Rey to see him.
She looks between Finn and Poe with that expression she gets when she's looking with more than her eyes.
"Finn," she says, suddenly insistent. "Finn, you need to tell me what happened."
Finn shakes his head repeatedly. "I don't know," he mutters, "I don't know, I don't know, I just –" He looks up at Rey with wide eyes, nearly terrified of his own strength. "I had to save him," he tells her. "I had to, I had to –"
"Okay," Rey breathes, "okay, that's okay." She smooths a hand over Finn's head, holds the back of his head as he rests his forehead against her thigh. "He'll be okay," she says. "We need to get you both back to base."
It takes her a bit, but she coaxes Finn into letting go of Poe, into standing, and together they get Poe onto Rey's transport, BB-8 following them, beeping cautiously.
Poe wakes when they're getting him onto the cot Rey brought, fighting against them before realizing who they are. He sags back against the sheets, good hand tight around Finn's.
"You're a dumbass," Rey tells him, reaching over him for the straps to secure the bed. Poe gives her a shadow of his usual cocky grin.
"One of my best traits," he says, then launches into a coughing fit that makes both Finn and Rey wince.
"I'll get you some ice chips," Rey tells him, Poe’s answering thanks almost too quiet to hear, and she disappears down the hall.
Poe’s gaze wanders to Finn, who's standing at the edge of the bed, so tense he looks like he's about to pass out.
"Hey, baby," he says, again, voice just as thin as before, only this time he smiles. It's weak and barely half-formed, but it's beautiful. "You did it."
"Of course I did," Finn says, and he shifts to brush Poe’s hair off his forehead. His skin is hot to the touch, and Finn's anxious to get him medical attention. He brings their clasped hands to his lips, squeezing his eyes shut as he presses a kiss to Poe’s knuckles. "I love you," he says, voice cracking. "Force, I love you so much."
Poe rubs his thumb against the side of Finn's hand. "Love you, too," he says. "I'm going to pass out again."
Finn breathes out a laugh. "That's okay," he tells him, because it is, now, Poe’s signature no longer flickering, fading. "I'll be here when you wake up."