riverviewlogs | [open] so don't stop me now

Entry tags:

[open] so don't stop me now

who: Poe Dameron (and by extension BB-8) + YOU
what: Catchall log
when: The remainder of November
where: Multiple locations
warnings: None at the moment, will edit as needed.

i. perimeter guard: aerial survey & exploration

[ Poe is ~~making out with~~ getting to know the Intrepid. At the moment he's underneath the ship on a rolling dolly, keeping up a steady stream of commentary to BB-8 while he roots around in an open panel.

BB-8 is next to him, projecting a hologram of the inner workings of the ship. ]

--deflectors aren't bad, but this baby has nothing on an X-wing. No offense. [ That last bit is directed at the ship, which he pats before going back into its insides. ] I'm thinking we can squeeze a little more speed out of these thrusters if we modify the thermal vents. What do you think, buddy?

[ BB-8 chirrups his support for the idea as Poe emerges again, hair sticking up from sweat and face marked with grease. ] Need to clear it with Jim first. Man, if Jess were here, she'd go to town on this thing.

ii. also... perimeter.... guard..........

[ Poe isn't really the weight lifting type. It's boring, for one thing. A static exercise. If he can't be in the air, he'd rather be in motion.

Which is why he's in the Perimeter Guard's fitness area whaling away on a few of the standing targets instead. Kicks, punches, all relatively basic moves executed at high speed. He knows enough to get by in a hand-to-hand combat scenario, but he's no advanced martial artist. The moves he knows are enough to get him a full-body workout, and that's good enough for him. His accuracy isn't great, not when his muscles protest this particularly vigorous abuse, not with the numbness in his arms and legs that gives way to tingling pain somewhere close to the surface of his skin. It makes him grateful the First Order didn't go after his hands. He can deal with the time it takes for the rest to heal.

--Also, he's talking to BB-8 the whole time he moves, conversation punctuated with grunts and the sounds of impact. ] --can't let ourselves get comfortable, you know? We-- need to be ready to-- move at a moment's notice.

[ He pauses, and BB-8 rolls over to the edge of the practice mat with a towel held in one maintenance grip and a water bottle in another. Poe takes both, taking a drink and wiping his face, speaking while his face is in the towel. ] Need to figure out a high-speed way to get a hold of Rey and Finn, so if they line the portal up or whatever it is they need to do we can hit it together. A kind of emergency signal.

iii. a park

[ He's jogging, focused on the motion of legs and arms, entirely absorbed in the rhythm. BB-8 rolls along in his wake, the droid more interested in their surroundings and the things in them than keeping up. At least since they're in public he's not rambling at his droid this time??

But you can bet if BB-8 sees something interesting or someone familiar, he'll detour away from his owner. ]

iv. a bar!

[ Poe doesn't drink much, and he doesn't let his pilots drink either. It's too much of a risk when they need to be ready to move the second intel or orders come in. Still, he likes people watching, and bars are a pretty good place to do it. (BB-8 elected to stay at the communal housing building.)

He is definitely not trying to avoid sleeping, because he's definitely not getting more tense with every day that goes past. Old habits, though. He's nursing a tonic with lime, since it's what the bar tender suggested for someone who doesn't want alcohol. ]

v. wildcard

[ Something else? Hit me! ]

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[ Poe laughs quietly enough that it's more of an exhale than a sound. He closes his eyes, relieved for a moment to block out the glare of the world, but he doesn't let himself stay in the dark for more than a count of three. ] All right. But only because you asked nice.

[ There are times when "flirting" and "the way Poe Dameron talks on a regular basis" are indistinguishable from each other.

Still, he can't let this happen without protest. He can't let himself lose ground. ] You don’t have to worry about me.

Edited 2017-11-22 08:00 (UTC)

[ That gets a snort and a deadpan: ]

Wait until you hear about the word "please".

[ He never thought reasoning with Poe would be the verbal equivalent of putting a bandage on Chewie, but here they are.

Finn starts walking, presumably towards wherever there's a bench or a water fountain or something along those lines, and he doesn't bother trying to hide the fact that he's keeping a sharp eye on Poe as he goes. Making sure he's actually got a walking buddy and all. He's not above reaching back to pull him along, but he'd like to think they're past that little bump in the road.

Honestly, though.

You don't have to worry about me.

Finn actually kind of... doesn't even acknowledge it at all for the moment? Just lets it sit where it landed on the way out of Poe's mouth, so he can think on it a little bit longer. He's not sure where to start on that statement. He's not even sure if he's mad about hearing it yet, but he sure is Something. ]

[ Poe follows. A few steps behind, trying to figure out how he feels about the fact that Finn is watching him that way. He wants to do or say something that proves he doesn't need to be babysat, but he hasn't been babysat since he was--since he doesn't remember when, actually.

There's something else in Finn's look, though, and Poe can't put his finger on what it is. ]

What?

[ Finn will babysit him until this moon implodes if he has to. He inhales sharply like he's about to say something, but it takes him another couple of seconds of thinking to get himself in order.

He is a little angry about it. Offended, maybe. When he finds his words, they come out low and sharp. ]

I'm pretty sure I remember telling you we're in this together, Poe Dameron. I'm pretty sure you're on my team.

[ He's got Rey, and he's got Poe. That's it. That's the team, and there's only one team. And he's always had a habit of feeling responsible for the people he's in the thick of it with. ]

So I think I'm gonna worry about you exactly as much as I want, because you're doing some job worrying about yourself right now-- and I cover my team when something falls short.

[ LITERALLY NO ONE CAN STOP HIM??? HE'LL FISTFIGHT ANYONE WHO TRIES, INCLUDING ALL OF HIS FRIENDS, APPARENTLY. ]

[ Poe stops again. At least this time there's no one that has to avoid crashing into him.

Finn's mad at him. Finn's mad at him?

Finn is mad at him.

That's a shock.

It's a shock that last just long enough that Poe doesn't have to think about why he gets mad in return. ] I don't need someone covering for me. I know how much I can take, Finn, and this is nothing. It's nothing, all right?

[ Finn throws his arms out, because he's committed himself to the long haul on this talking point already. ]

And I don't believe that!

[ Finn is mad at him, and is not listening to him.

There are a dozen arguments that start in Poe's mind and all of them short-circuit around after what the First Order did, it is nothing, and he's not going to let those bastards slow him down.

So Poe just... stands there. Glaring at Finn. Feeling helpless to change the other man's mind and not knowing why it matters so much that he does. ]

[ He takes a thought to clock that Poe is glaring at him, a very legitimate real glare, with no words to offer, and he's not sure what to do with that.

It's new.

Maybe one day he'll be better at navigating these things without funneling it out into a whole argument, and he'll look back at this and laugh. Right now, he's letting the momentum carry him. Why doesn't Poe understand this? ]

If you walk in here and you have to think about how much you'll be able to take, then it's not okay to be here. That's not nothing. And the more you try to push it to prove whatever you're proving, the more ground you're gonna lose when you run yourself down.

[ It only takes one mistake. It only takes one wrong step, one slow reflex. He may not be in the loop on much in the galaxy, but he knows this process. ]

I'd rather drag us both back out of here than watch you do it.

[ The worst part is that Poe knows Finn is right. He knows that if things were the other way around, Poe would be the one making this particular argument. He would be the one pushing until Finn conceded that he needed help.

That's the problem, though: needing help. Admitting there's a reason to need it. ]

I have to do this.

No, you don't. You don't have to do anything.

[ Finn couldn't be more adamant about that.

The door they walked in through is the same door they can walk out of. They can leave. They can leave anytime they want. They could walk up to the front and say they need to put off the rest of this boot camp for a week, to recover from unrelated incidents, and they'd probably get it without a hitch.

Poe's been trending like he needs a medic, and Finn thinks he could settle for seeing him rest at bare minimum. ]

You're making a choice. You can make a different one.

[ Because he will follow through on dragging them out, if he has to. ]

[ The headache has settled in for the long haul, the pressure on his temples bad enough to feel like something's going to break. ]

I have to do this, Finn.

[ It's not about making a choice. It's not nearly that simple. ]

[ It's official. He has no earthly idea what his friend is thinking. Finn changes tracks. ]

Why?

Because the First Order and their ghoul don't get to control me like that! They don't get anything else from me, Finn! Nothing!

[ Poe freezes, a numb tingle that has nothing to do with nerve damage washing through him. He just said that. He just said it out loud, released it into the air like poisonous gas, made it into something that can't be contained. He said it where people can hear, can judge, can pity him.

Poe takes a step back, closing his eyes against the pounding in his head. ] Forget it. [ Hesitation, then: ] Please.

[ Oh.

Okay, now this makes a lot more sense. Suddenly it's no wonder that nothing's been working. Poe's outburst presents a clarity that wasn't there before, that Finn didn't think to seek out, now replacing the hard lines in his expression with realization.

With everything that happened after getting away from the Finalizer, it was easy to let it slip out of his mind. Why they deployed to Jakku, why Ren had Poe taken aboard in the first place.

Finn doesn't agree to forget it. He doesn't plan to. It's just not much of a conversation to kick off in open space. ]

Come on. We're still sitting down.

[ There's a limp desire to keep arguing. This feels too much like a loss. It feels like giving up, and Poe hates it. There's a dull burn behind his eyelids that threatens to become something more, and he doesn't have the energy to fight and to keep that from happening. He has to pick one. ]

Yeah. All right.

[ Thank the universe for small mercies. Finn nods once, spinning on his heel and striding off. He still keeps an idle eye on Poe, but less out of concern that he's a flight risk or something. Just to make sure he's not falling too far back.

He's silent as they walk this time. He's silent for a while as they sit, straight-backed and letting his mind run a hundred miles a minute.

They don't get anything else from me.

There are a lot of things he thinks about saying. A couple of things he thinks he understands about as well as anyone ever could, if he could figure out where to start. He doesn't want to jump in on half a feeling, half a thought.

This isn't a problem he can fix, but he doesn't want to leave Poe alone to carry it. ]

[ Poe is grateful for the silence. He sits with his head tilted back and his eyes closed, head pounding dully in time with his heartbeat. It gives him a chance to calm down and collect himself. ] I had a bacta treatment after I got back to the base from Jakku.

[ As though this is just about the injuries. As though it has anything to do with the injuries at all. He rubs his face with both hands, keeping his eyes shut. ] I was supposed to go in for another before....

[ A gesture toward their surroundings, the planet hanging in the sky. ]

That explains a few things.

[ And what it doesn't, Poe all but outlined when he started snapping. It's a deliberate choice of words, same as Poe made a deliberate turn in the subject. ]

They don't do bacta treatments here, but you could see a medic. Finish out in less than a day.

[ He doesn't know that for sure in terms of the kinds of injuries interrogations leave behind, but he has to figure if he fell through the portal mostly-dead with a lightsaber wound and was on the streets maybe a day and a half later... it's possible. ]

[ Force, he’s been stupid. Turning down help when he first arrived, insisting he was fine. Like it wouldn’t catch up to him. Like someone wouldn’t notice sooner or later.

Then there’s the idiot fear that won’t let go, the worry that actually getting treatment wouldn’t help. Finn is living, breathing proof that whatever medical tech these people have is far better than what they’ve got at home.

A long silence, then: ] Okay.

Good.

[ Finn feels the sharper edges of his anger start to smooth out. If Poe says he will, he will-- it's something. It's a start. Maybe he'll offer to go with later, just to be safe. He was supposed to follow up with the medics last week, he ignored the messages.

He lets another shorter stretch of quiet pass, hesitating. ]

I know what it's like to not wanna give them more than they already took from you. The second I decided to walk away from the First Order, it was all I could think about. We didn't lose the same things, but I still know what that does.

[ The anger. The shame. The bone-deep fear. The desperate attempts to ignore everything going on around him until he could feel like he'd finally done it right, finally gotten somewhere they couldn't reach. It's all still there, under the skin. ]

[ Poe's heart rebels violently against such sudden honesty. This isn't one of his pilots confiding in him, where all he has to do is listen and advise, carry their secrets and their fears. This is an emotional exchange of equals. This is Finn opening himself up in a way that Poe can't deflect or ignore. ]

There's... [ Poe grants himself one weakness. He stares straight ahead instead of looking at his friend, studying a spot on the grass. ] Maybe five people know. The General-- I had t... It's in the report. Maybe five people know, Finn.

[ He doesn't want anyone else added to that number. ]

[ Finn's master strategy, trying his best and taking everything seriously, strikes again. ]

I don't have to be the sixth.

[ Because if he pushes it, if he tries to force Poe's hand here, he's not doing the right thing by any means. Because there are things he tries to keep buried, too, even if they can't stay that way forever. ]

But they did raise me. [ He knows what they have. He knows what they can do with it. Interrogation is another word for torture even before Kylo Ren takes a personal interest. ] And I did have a good seat when you flew us out of there after.

[ His fingers twitch. None of it sounds right. None of it sounds like what he's trying to convey. ]

I'm here.

That's... [ It's not what he meant, not really. Finn is one of the five. He saw Poe locked down on that table. Finn saw him broken. He saw what the others could only read.

But Finn goes on, he says I'm here, and that's the whole of it, isn't it? Finn is there. He was there when it happened, he's here now, and of all the people in the galaxy or universe or whatever this place is, he's the one best equipped to understand what Poe isn't sure he knows how to say.

He tries. He tries, while the silence lengthens, but there's that room, the view of the dark ceiling, the steady inflections of the intelligence droid asking over and over What did you do with the map. That first jolt of pain that ripped through him when the stormtrooper in the corner stepped forward and pressed a modified force pike against Poe's stomach, the white haze of surreality that came with impacts, suffocation, neuroshock, electricity, until he wasn't sure if he was screaming or wishing he could.

What did you do with the map.

The fear of breaking.

What did you do with the map.

The black wish for death.

What did you do--

Poe leans forward suddenly and fights the urge to puke. ]

[ Things like this feel as stretched out and dangerous as hearing an incoming ship when you least need it. Knowing that something could happen, that he'll have to hope he can run fast enough or think hard enough not to mess it up when it does. The silence goes on, and Finn can't bring himself to break it.

Poe pitches forward and Finn reflexively reaches for his hand, grip tight for a moment before he catches up with himself and eases off. Concerned would be a very light, bare-bones word for what he's feeling. A lot of things are warring for top billing right now.

He thinks of saying something like you're good, but Poe is definitively not good right now, and there's nothing so pressing that he has to try to get him pulled together as soon as possible. They've got privacy to get by. It's been an awful long silence, though, so what he winds up with is a worried: ]

Buddy?

[ Which is... exactly as weird to say to someone as he suspected it would be, so he's glad he got that out of the way.

Not that Poe isn't worth the effort. ]

[ Poe heaves air and the taste of bile, fighting his body's instincts, focusing on that fiercely enough to drive the rest of it back. Dry heave, focus on the pressure of Finn's hand, gasp, focus on anything but those seven words. (Please, please, memory, let him go.)

Eventually his vision starts to clear. The headache is worse--all that retching can't have helped--but he can breathe. He's shaking, but he can breathe.

What the hell was that, and how can he stop it from ever happening again.

Poe keeps his head down. ]

I'm okay. [ A breathy sound that could, in other circumstances, be a laugh. Okay has just become a very relative term. Quieter: ] Thanks.

[ A pause. In something approaching a more normal tone: ] That was fun.

[ Poe sits up, giving Finn's hand a little squeeze before reclaiming his own. He swallows, throat raw. Silence, silence, silence. It's starting to irritate him, how hard it is to find words for this. He's always got something to say, a joke at the ready, a thousand ways to keep things comfortable.

Finn has been honest with him. Maybe all he can do is be honest in return. ] I don't want...

[ Even honesty is hard. Poe closes his eyes, leaning back and inhaling slowly. ] You're one of the five, Finn. You're one of five people who knows that I thought I was going to die. One of five people... [ He falters. ]

I failed. The people on base, my pilots, their crews, they hear the story and it's this great escape with the help of a hero stormtrooper. The thought of them telling it the way my mom's squadmates told her stories--

[ He stops again. ] I failed.

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cw torture

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