And the stars will be his @niksthename
Awaken

It’s so, so green.

Of course, when he was on D’Qar the first time, it was just as green. But his vision was filled with orange, with curly black hair and bronzed skin running toward him like he was the last man alive on the tarmac. Not days before, Finn would have looked at Poe’s face, would have thought that, and then immediately thought that such an idea was silly and factually incorrect.

Now, he’s awake in the medbay, looking out through the window and taking in just how much green there is. Not just one color, either. Dozens. Hundreds? When did one color become two? How fine were the differences? To what minutiae did that leaf constitute a different color as it’s neighbor?

Finn doesn’t know, but he does stare.

He’s seen trees before. In his helmet, however, everything was a flat red, or maybe dark red. Certainly some shades of red, but rough and pixelated from the crudeness of the display. There’s a purpose to this, of course. No details, no colors, no visuals. Everything and everyone is muddled where troopers are white-red and generals are black-red. Stark contrast to the chaotic, dirty world of the republic, with all its grey- red -spaces.

All this time, and he’s been denied this- this beauty. This visual diversity with so much detail it nearly makes him cry. Trees have leaves and you can see them. It’s so overwhelming, it’s nearly blinding. And yet he can’t stop staring at it through the window, waiting for his back to heal, for feeling to return to his legs.

And that was interesting. Paralyzed, they’d said. Not permanently, perhaps. If odds were in their favor, if he got lucky, if the damage wasn’t too extensive, the bacta patches and robotic insert to replace a few vertebrae and his spinal cord might get him his legs back. But they didn’t feel dead to him. Or they did? Finn was acutely aware of them, felt them functioning, blood running through them, biologically alive. But that feeling was… out of phase? Out of phase with the feeling of, say, his arms, his hands, his chest. But not too different.

For days after he woke, he sat and thought on it as he stared out at the distant treeline. Finally, on the fourth day, he had a conclusion. He felt everything from the waist up twice, and everything from the waist down only once. A whole and a half. There’s no earthly way to know what it means, not really, so he abandons his reflection and sits numb as he looks out the window.

On the sixth day, he sees an x-wing land and he knows. He knows. Lo and behold, only minutes later, a winded and rough-looking Poe bursts through the door. Finn turns his head against the twinge of pain and watches that face morph from concern and urgency to something bright and happy and big, flashing white teeth with twinkling eyes and crinkles that fold and multiply with his smile. Finn feels his heart lift, but it isn’t unaccompanied. Something hangs heavy there, and he finds the words for it as Poe approaches his bed.

“Where’s Rey?”

On the 7th day, he wakes up to a toe wiggle. Poe hasn’t once left his side, not really. Of course, he’s gotten up to run errands, debrief the mission he was on, grab food for them both, talk to medical to get some answers (which he can do as a commander where Finn is still a traitor no one quite trusts, no matter what he did on Starkiller). But Finn can feel himself on Poe’s thoughts everywhere. He’s not sure how he can feel that, but he knows. He knows.

Poe’s head is resting on the edge of the bed, one arm tucked under his head, their fingers tangled. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, but Finn is okay with this. It means something to both of them, though maybe not the same thing. He has no idea. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that Poe wakes up almost immediately, sees the wiggle, and jolts upright in his seat. Their fingers don’t detangle.

That smile, that bright, happy smile turns on him again. Finn realizes he’s weak for it. His own smile is perhaps more reserved, but it’s genuine, for Poe.

On the 7th day, he wakes up to a toe wiggle. Poe hasn’t once left his side, not really. Of course, he’s gotten up to run errands, debrief the mission he was on, grab food for them both, talk to medical to get some answers (which he can do as a commander where Finn is still a traitor no one quite trusts, no matter what he did on Starkiller). But Finn can feel himself on Poe’s thoughts everywhere. He’s not sure how he can feel that, but he knows. He knows.

On the 7th day, he wakes up to a toe wiggle. Poe hasn’t once left his side, not really. Of course, he’s gotten up to run errands, debrief the mission he was on, grab food for them both, talk to medical to get some answers (which he can do as a commander where Finn is still a traitor no one quite trusts, no matter what he did on Starkiller). But Finn can feel himself on Poe’s thoughts everywhere. He’s not sure how he can feel that, but he knows. He <i>knows.</i>

Poe’s head is resting on the edge of the bed, one arm tucked under his head, their fingers tangled. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, but Finn is okay with this. It means something to both of them, though maybe not the same thing. He has no idea. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that Poe wakes up almost immediately, sees the wiggle, and jolts upright in his seat. Their fingers don’t detangle.

That smile, that bright, happy smile turns on him again. Finn realizes he’s weak for it. His own smile is perhaps more reserved, but it’s genuine, for Poe.

“You did it, buddy!”

“It’s a start.”

The rest of the afternoon, more and more toes wiggle. Sometimes on purpose. Poe’s smile never dims, and Finn’s only grows to match it. The more it happens, the more he feels like he was being pulled from some sort of fog he’d been in. A familiar fog. A sense of isolation. Just like those tense minutes in the TIE fighter, Poe is a strong wind moving the fog away and leaving Finn standing and seeing clearly for the first time.

-------~

He loses count of the days, because with Poe always there, it doesn’t matter as much. Finn doesn’t really know why he was counting, so he’s not really sure why exactly it stops, but he certainly appreciates that Poe makes it feel like it doesn’t matter.

One day, Poe helps him out of bed under the careful eyes of a medidroid. And C3PO. Finn’s not sure why the protocol droid is here, but he is, nattering on so endlessly that it becomes background noise almost immediately. By all rights, standing shouldn’t be that hard, he thinks. He’s been feeling his legs for days, wiggling toes and shifting restlessly. Even stretching and drawing his knees up, though not quite to his chest.

They have each other by the elbows when his toes touch the cold duracrete floor. Then the balls of his feet, rolling along the outside of his foot and then his heels. His weight waivers for a moment, knees a bit weak, but soon his body is adjusted and he’s standing. He feels lighter, smiling and laughing excitedly with Poe, testing a bit of an excited bounce on his toes.

For the first time, Finn turns his attention internally and finds that he feels whole again, but he still feels… two. Twice? Something like that. It’s weird and he doesn’t get it, so he turns his attention outwards. There, he feels something.

He feels Poe twice. At least, a little. Feels where their arms are touching, but something deeper feels his whole presence, like a hologram only he can see, and not… not blue. But something. Maybe a few wires got knocked loose when Kylo Ren slashed him. Who knows. Maybe he should ask someone about it.

-------~

He holds a box, a small one, with nothing in it but two halves of a jacket and some scrubs. It seems so silly that they gave him anything at all to carry, like, three things. But he has it, and he holds it as he stands in the threshold of Poe’s quarters.

“Better actually step in before the door closes on ya, buddy.”

Finn takes a deep breath and steps through, the door sliding shut behind him just as his heel clears it. It’s small, a little cluttered and part of him is itching to clean. Itching to put everything in its place. But he knows this isn’t the Order, there isn’t a place for everything to fit neat and tidy behind paneled walls. This is what being human looks like.

Flaws are a foreign concept to him. In the Order, the emphasis was on perfection, and Finn thought, until the day he refused to fire, that he was perfect. Poe’s been explaining that to other people, this is a conceited thing to think. Poe’s also been pointing out his flaws. Not to make him feel bad, feel worse, but to make him feel human.

This all feels so very, very strange. But perhaps that’s also because it feels human, and Finn has never had the luxury of knowing what that meant.

“You doin’ alright, Finn?” Poe is standing before him, looking concerned but keeping that happiness up. He’s been noticing more and more that the… the second Poe he feels seems a lot more sad and stressed than the one that’s always holding his hand, kissing his palm, talking shop about the x-wings. He thinks Poe isn’t telling him something, but he doesn’t know what yet. It makes the question seem ironic.

“Doing great. Just adjusting, I think. I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do now.” And wasn’t that true? He had no clue what came next.

Poe takes the box from his hands, drops it carelessly on the floor, which isn’t so unfair as it’s probably all garbage anymore anyway. Finn looks at it, and then Poe’s hands are on his cheeks, gently redirecting his gaze, and he’s under that look again. Like he’s the only man here. Except, it’s a lot more true this time.

“You’re gonna be alright, Finn. I know this must be hard with everything kinda slowing down a minute, but you’ll find your stride. We’re gonna talk to the general tomorrow about what you can start doing. I think I’m gonna ask her to let you shadow me, if you want that?”

He has to think about it, but he realizes… he doesn’t know anybody else. Not just in the base, but in the galaxy. He knows, like, 3 people, and one of them is here, holding his face and causing feelings Finn has never had to understand before. Has never felt before. Something says that sounds corny but he doesn’t know why.

“Are you gonna teach me to fly?”

So he spends all his time sitting in weird, impossible places, out of the way and watching. Roofs of buildings, noses of x-wings, in trees. It’s hard to get up there, but it requires a lot of use of his legs and sometimes it feels like there’s no better way to get in touch with them. It expends energy and time, and Poe always gets this funny look on his face when he spots Finn.

He should really do something about that.

-------~

Everyone is trying to get the base moved. The Order knows where it is, so the goal now is to find somewhere safe to move thousands of people without being spotted. Poe’s not been going on scouting missions, he’s too important to lose on missions that aren’t reconnaissance, but recon is slow right now with the focus shifted.

So he spends all his time sitting in weird, impossible places, out of the way and watching. Roofs of buildings, noses of x-wings, in trees. It’s hard to get up there, but it requires a lot of use of his legs and sometimes it feels like there’s no better way to get in touch with them. It expends energy and time, and Poe always gets this funny look on his face when he spots Finn.

So he spends all his time sitting weird, impossible places, out of the way and watching. Roofs of buildings, noses of x-wings, in trees. It’s hard to get up there, but it requires a lot of use of his legs and sometimes it feels like there’s no better way to get in touch with them. It expends energy and time, and Poe always gets this funny look on his face when he spots Finn.

What is that? He closes his eyes, lets everything slowly drift back to him, blind him to everything he could feel minutes before. Bring it all home and see if he can focus on it, feel what it is. Tap tap tap.

“What the fuck?!” Was that out loud?

He thinks he’s going to panic, but that’s… not what happens. He feels alright. Something feels safe about this, but he doesn’t know what. But it feels alright.

On the back of his mind, there’s a small little tap.

Speaking of, his pilot sees him and waves at him, bright smile directed at Finn and only Finn for a brief moment before he turns back to his duties. Tap tap tap.

What is that? He closes his eyes, lets everything slowly drift back to him, blind him to everything he could feel minutes before. Bring it all home and see if he can focus on it, feel what it is. Tap tap tap.

Rey’s gone with vacuous silence. Immediately he misses her, even if it was just a few words. He misses her adventure. She’s off, somewhere far away, learning important Jedi things Finn will never know. He doesn’t know why, but he cares so deeply for her, aches for her. Wishes he could share in the joy she was clearly feeling.

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