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[ She has to think about that for a second, while she looks down at the body in the snow. Should she feel something more than she does? He was alive a moment ago, she killed him, now he's not and never will be again.

Maybe she's just too used to bodies. Chyler turns away from the corpse. ]

Yeah.

[ She shivers as the wind picks up, cutting even in her white armor. ]

We should look for that sh--

[ A streak of purple light, the thunk of something embedding itself in a nearby tree. It glows, briefly, then starts to fade--a long crystalline needle.

Chyler freezes. In the woods around them, new weapons glow to life, double-pronged blades made of white light, with the elegant curves of a violin. Another streak of purple hits a tree just above Chyler's head, then two more. The cluster sparks once and then explodes, sending the top of the tree crashing down over Kylo Ren's body.

She's pale. Tries to sight on something, anything between the trees, but there's nothing but incoming weapons and blades of light. ]

We're surrounded. [ Chyler's voice is tiny, squeezed. She hates it. ] They won't miss forever.

What the hell-? [ He would throw this lightsaber off a cliff in exchange for a blaster. A couple of good grenades. Sorry, Skywalkers, better to pick things off from a distance than it is to figure out the logistics on this.

It'll be fine. It'll be fine.

It probably won't be. Hard to mistake the feeling of being boxed in. She's not someone he plans on saying that to. Not when she sounds like that.

Finn reaches for her arm, tries to pull her in closer. It's a moot point trying to stand in front of her when they're covered on all sides. But, consider: he does what he wants and doesn't often think about the mootness of points when he's decided on it. ]

We can try to make a break for it. You've got distance, I've got close-quarters. Plenty of cover.

[ She's scared enough to let him pull her close, even as she keeps her weapon at the ready. ]

Okay.

[ Still in that small voice, spoken with the knowledge that they don't stand a chance. But they'll stand even less of one unless they do something, fast.

(She's going to die. She's going to die. This is happening the wrong way, but she knows how it ends.) ]

On your word.

Okay.

[ If he does one thing, if it's just one thing that comes out of this. He hopes it's even half of a better chance.

Finn squeezes her arm once, maybe about equally pointless a gesture with the body armor in the way, then pulls his hand back and nods. ]

Biggest gap's at ten o'clock. If they close ranks we'll lay some fire down and cut through. [ Will that pan out? Maybe not. He's definitely gonna try, though. ] Let's move.

[ Time for Star Wars strategy 101: it's hopeless, but we're going to be very brave and try to take as many down on the way out as we can. Finn starts moving with the implicit trust that Chyler will stay on him. ]

[ They move. Once they're in motion, once she's laying down cover fire in short bursts and they're actually moving, the emotion of it all fades. She's a weapon. She's a guide for her gun. She aims for the gap at the top of the enemy's shields, she aims for the space above those glowing blades where she guesses their heads will be.

They can do this. They can do this.

Then one of the beasts is right on top of them, more than six feet tall and from out of nowhere, and she's at the wrong angle to do anything about it. Her shout isn't a warning so much as it's a scream. ] Finn!

[ Whatever the hell this thing is, he hates it. That's the long and short of it, really. He hates it. It's terrifying. Chyler seems to agree.

They're not something he's ever gotten a lot of practice with, lightsabers, but they're technically a melee weapon and past a certain point it always felt pretty intuitive. A fight is a fight. Any weapon is an extension of that.

Finn said he'd cover close-quarters. He intends to follow through. Disarming this has to be the most important factor-- it looks like it could throw them like ragdolls, but he'll take that over getting shot.

Let him get back to you real quick, Chyler, he's gonna try to chop this beast's gun hand off and then see where that puts them balance-wise. Catch it off-guard enough, maybe he can go ahead and... well. Go for the head, probably. If the fancy laser sword can't do it, they might as well pack it in. ]

[ The thing screams as its hand hits the ground--or more accurately, it gives a feral shriek that sends goosebumps prickling across Chyler's scalp.

Then it goes abruptly silent as Finn sinks the lightsaber into its head, one clawed hand flailing at him, the other a blood-spitting stump.

Chyler doesn't have the chance to congratulate him.

Purple shards come zipping out of the darkness, thumping into trees, into snow, and into her stomach.

The air shivers, and another creature appears from nowhere, the sword in its hand blazing to life. It's a good three feet taller and a lot heavier built than its friend. Chyler opens fire, thinking she should be hurting more by now, she should be in agony, she's not going to make it, but maybe Finn can. Blood speckles the snow under her.

At least Finn can make it.

(Why doesn't it hurt?) ]

Chyler!

[ Okay, so about that... "at least Finn can make it" thought. It's technically very true. There's every possibility that he could push one way or the other, take advantage of the cover fire she's still laying down, maybe make it out.

He historically has a bit of a problem with doing these things, when the time comes for it.

Like watching Rey hit a tree and land, motionless, on the ground. Like keeping a speeder dead on course instead of pulling off. Making it doesn't cross his mind. This-- thing, this giant, whatever it is, being afraid of it doesn't so much as glance off of the outer edges of his mind. There's so much worse to be afraid of. The blood, the purple shards, the look set into Chyler's face. How is she still standing?

He moves towards her instead, that fear a visceral, ugly thing, grips one of her shoulders so hard that his knuckles start to ache. The lightsaber is all but an afterthought, barely a blip on the radar.

He doesn't tell her everything is gonna be okay. There is presumably more of a brief, quiet stream of "no"s while he tries desperately to think of something that he can do about this. ]

[ There it is. Her legs starting to buckle. She braces her feet farther apart, determined this time die standing if she possibly can. ]

Finn, go.

[ Her weapon clicks empty. Now it's her turn to whisper no on repeat, as she finally starts to collapse. Finn's grip is the only thing keeping her upright. She leans against him, still waiting for pain to supplant weakness. ]

Please go.

[ They're hemmed in now. He can't. Those monsters with their weapons closing in. She makes a soft, despairing noise. ]

I'm sorry.

[ Finn shifts until he has an arm fully around her shoulders, the better to provide that support with. Drops the lightsaber, because there's no point in pretending he'd get anywhere with it. No point in trying to pretend he'd step away to make the attempt, if she wouldn't be leaving with him. ]

Nowhere better to be. It's not your fault.

[ Hunching over slightly, he stretches his newly-freed arm across her front, some awkward mixture of added support and protective embrace. ]

It's okay not to look. You don't have to watch. I've got you covered.

[ Last time all I could do wasn't enough, he remembers her saying once.

He'd give anything to get her out of here alive to try again. ]

[ She turns her face against him, crying silently, feeling the heat of her own blood creeping down one thigh. (It still doesn't hurt, it was agony before, should she be glad? Should she be happy that it's not quite the same?)

All she can think to say is I'm sorry, over and over again.

And then she sits up. Bolts upright, more like, hands clutching at her stomach, feeling nothing but her sweat-dampened shirt. She yanks it up until she can see her scar, healed, the skin around it undamaged. She's in her room in communal housing, and the clock next to her bed says 02:45. ]

Finn.

[ It's insensible, ridiculous, but she needs to know he's okay. She rolls out of bed and hits the ground on her knees, scrabbling upright and dragging on her boots without socks. It doesn't occur to her until she's at the door to run back and grab her communicator, opening her contacts. It's Finn, John, and Marco. She hits Finn's name and heads out the door. ]

Come on, come on...

[ There's a relief in waking up, sort of. The same relief that comes after any nightmare turns out to be a nightmare, at a base level. When Finn's eyes fly open, heart pounding so hard it's almost painful, the relief isn't enough to matter.

The logic of it all falls apart the more he thinks about how it unfolded, but it was real, it felt so real. He's up and pulling his own boots and a jacket on without even stopping to think about it, device shoved haphazardly into one of the pockets. Shoutout to Poe if he's not out somewhere else tonight tbh, Finn's outta here with all the grace and dignity of an angry elephant.

When he hears his communicator go off and fishes it back out, the relief of seeing Chyler's name on the display is so much more powerful than anything else could have been. He was just thinking--

No, it's probably not anything good if she's calling at this time of night, is it? Finn answers almost immediately. Not to worry, he sounds very much awake and urgent. ]

Are you okay?

[ SAYING HELLO IS FOR PEOPLE WITH TIME TO WASTE AND NO FEARS TO SETTLE. ]

[ When he answers she’s so relieved that she stops short and almost trips. ] Finn! Thank God—I’m fine, are you?

[ It’s strange, isn’t it, that he’s worried for her? She was the one dreaming. He was never actually in danger.

It’s easy to say that and much harder to believe it. That room with the dead aliens, the man in the woods, the monsters that killed her. It was so real. It was all so real. Logic can’t beat out the feel of that projectile sinking into her stomach, or the way their robed attacker hit the snow in a haze of blood. And that alien—where did she come up with that? Why the sand?

Chyler starts walking again, rubbing her arm from the chill and from goosebumps. ] Where are you?

[ She's fine. Okay, good, first priority secured, she's fine. He doesn't immediately question why she must be calling in that case. Gift horses or something like that. ]

Of course I'm fine. [ Which in his personal opinion is also generally a good thing. That's both of them. They're fine. They're fine. ] I'm just--

[ Oh.

Hm.

Finn takes stock of the fact that he was more or less en route to kick down Chyler's door and make personally sure that she's okay before she called. That might not be the best opener. ]

I'm out. Walking. [ A beat, then: ] Wait, are you out? What are you doing out?

[ IT'S LIKE 3 AM, HE THINKS, POWER WALKING DOWN THE STREET AT 3 AM. ]

Where are you walking? [ There's a tinge of fond exasperation to it. She can feel that, now, knowing that he's okay. They're both okay.

A pause at his question, then: ] Walking.

[ She should probably give him more information than that. ] I just left the communal housing building.

[ Realistically, what other answer did he expect? Finn huffs, something about the exchange leaving him amused in line with any lingering worry. ]

Now you know which way I'm walking. [ He hesitates. ] Is it too early for coffee? I could get us coffee.

[ Finn asks this with all the final-stage acceptance of any person who knows they won't be going back to sleep anytime soon. Sometimes life's gonna be like that. If nothing else, all the time he's spent here has helped him get better at telling when it is like that. ]

I think that's a good idea.

[ Apparently they've mutually decided that sleep isn't happening again tonight, and Chyler is starting to wonder if maybe they're awake for the same reasons. ]

I'll meet you where the coffee is. [ A pause. ] Where is the coffee?

[ Ah, insomnia. The biggest mood of all. At least they're in it together.

Finn gives her address, or possibly more in line with the preoccupation and never needing to give its exact address before, the street and the name of the place. He would have asked her to the waffle place, but food isn't sitting well with him as a concept right now.

He will be there, as promised, at some table. With coffee, also as promised. Because he's only the most top quality brother figure. ]

[ Chyler comes in and spots him almost at once. It's not like there are a ton of other people getting coffee at 3am.

She sits down across from him, studying Finn carefully, trying to find any indication of injury. ]

You're sure you're all right?

[ They could consider making this a permanent change, just to cut back on the wait time. Something to pitch at the next team meeting. He doesn't seem to mind being studied. All the better to study Chyler right back. He squints a little and everything.

His plan is to try to be casual about this. That plan never works. Go figure. ]

I'm at least as all right as you are. Woke up. Couldn't go back to sleep. [ Finn pulls a face. ] I'm pretty sure neither of us is allowed to say we're great right now.

[ She breathes out a laugh, smiling faintly for the first time. ]

Fair. [ A long pause. She takes the chance to drink some coffee, hot as it still is, to try and put her thoughts in order.

Casually, maybe too casually: ] What woke you up?

[ Sometimes it's mystifying, the ways in which Chyler is so... directly on his level. The way she tries to wield casualness like a sharp stick is one of those ways.

John's better at that. Even when casual isn't actually working, he's better at acting like it is.

Finn momentarily grapples with the internal debate of "nothing and I'm fine bc I am a very mature and stable person" and "we're literally already both here at three in the morning, there's nothing stable about that". ]

Weird dreams. It happens sometimes.

[ Well. Strictly speaking, it's less often that he'll have a dream he can't sleep again after. If he's up at this hour, he usually couldn't get to sleep at all in the first place. It's in the same neighborhood, though.

Finn knows better than to not be a little suspicious of the convenience of this late-night meetup. If he's honest. The fact that he woke up and charged out to knock on her door and she called within a minute. Can't trust anything to be coincidence anymore. ]

You too?

[ Chyler takes a deep breath and nods.

It's too big a coincidence. Far too big. She's finding she believes in random happenstance less and less the longer she's in Riverview. There's always a reason for the strangeness here, even if it's not clear at first. It would be reassuring if the range of strangeness weren't so broad and unpredictable. ]

Very. [ She hesitates. ] You were in them, actually.

[ He takes back all the times he's thought the Quarantine isn't so bad. Okay, not every single time. Finn is both petty and vindictive enough to consider the prospect. ]

Small world. [ Presumably by deliberate design. There's solidarity in how weird real life is being. They aren't suffering alone. On the other hand, what's the best way to ask a person if they had the same dream as you. Might as well be up front? ]

Any chance you were up because it was a good weird that we both lived through?

[ A lot of his questions, he already thinks he knows the answers to. Since they're both here at this time of night and all. ]

[ Her face does A Thing where it wavers between laughter and crumpling in upset for a second before settling into neutrality. ]

No. No, on both counts. [ She squeezes her coffee cup a little tighter. ] You?

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As Finn crashes out the door he hears a distant and confused “the fuck??”

sometimes you gotta crash out for your found family okay

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