[ One stormtrooper can't make a war stop. One stormtrooper is as negligible and replaceable as the armor they wear. Cannon fodder. Fighting didn't cross his mind.
But he could make it so they didn't have him to use. He could have that much control. Which made a nice overall plan, since once he left, his options narrowed down to "get away" or "die trying." And those both fit nicely into that slot. Better than staying, he thinks.
If anyone has given him a look like that before, so close to the fear and repulsion he was preparing for but not quite on the mark-- feeling it for him, not because of him-- he hasn't managed to catch sight of it. Finn files it away, a small, complicated point of hard light behind his ribcage. ]
I'm not a hero. [ In light of everything he got from that canister, and remembering his talk with Poe a while back about people generally thinking what they're gonna think, he's trying not to sound too insistent. ] But I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.
[ Then Finn hesitates. Leans in closer, intent, and reflexively reaches for one of Cisco's hands (not too tight, he reminds himself. if you can't feel it you can't grip hard and hope for the best, because it isn't just your hand. and for all that the First Order didn't deal in gentleness, it at least taught him how to deal in calculated restraint).
Welcome to the Finn zone. Nobody has personal bubbles and almost everything merits high-octane intensity. ]
I don't want you to think you're the reason I didn't. You're a good person. I like you. I trust you. My hangups are all on me. Okay?
[ His problems, all the parts of himself that sometimes hurt and don't quite fit, aren't sparks he wants lighting to spread by proxy. If there's something wrong with him, he doesn't have to create the possibility of making someone think it's actually a problem in them. Someone he's friends with, least of all. ]
no subject
But he could make it so they didn't have him to use. He could have that much control. Which made a nice overall plan, since once he left, his options narrowed down to "get away" or "die trying." And those both fit nicely into that slot. Better than staying, he thinks.
If anyone has given him a look like that before, so close to the fear and repulsion he was preparing for but not quite on the mark-- feeling it for him, not because of him-- he hasn't managed to catch sight of it. Finn files it away, a small, complicated point of hard light behind his ribcage. ]
I'm not a hero. [ In light of everything he got from that canister, and remembering his talk with Poe a while back about people generally thinking what they're gonna think, he's trying not to sound too insistent. ] But I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.
[ Then Finn hesitates. Leans in closer, intent, and reflexively reaches for one of Cisco's hands (not too tight, he reminds himself. if you can't feel it you can't grip hard and hope for the best, because it isn't just your hand. and for all that the First Order didn't deal in gentleness, it at least taught him how to deal in calculated restraint).
Welcome to the Finn zone. Nobody has personal bubbles and almost everything merits high-octane intensity. ]
I don't want you to think you're the reason I didn't. You're a good person. I like you. I trust you. My hangups are all on me. Okay?
[ His problems, all the parts of himself that sometimes hurt and don't quite fit, aren't sparks he wants lighting to spread by proxy. If there's something wrong with him, he doesn't have to create the possibility of making someone think it's actually a problem in them. Someone he's friends with, least of all. ]