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There’s something pulling at him.
Of course, Poe shouldn’t worry about it right now, because frankly, there is much more important stuff on their plate right now (like the fact that there everything that is left of the resistance is a bunch of people crammed into the millenium falcon), but it’s like is always is; Poe’s mind is a strange thing and everyone knows this for a fact; Poe is nothing but impulses. And right now all his impulses are screaming at him to go and get Finn and make sure he’s okay and unharmed and doing alright.
But there’s so much else to do and Poe knows that Finn isn’t hurt physically beyond a few scratches, that thanks to Rose he is still in one piece
thank gods, thank gods , the shadow of the fear is still tightly strung around Poe’s spine, the fear of losing Finn, seeing him fly forward, forward, not stopping, ordering him, screaming and -
yeah, it’s still there, the ice cold hand that crushed his heart for three, four, five seconds (eternities) too long. But Finn is here, with them on the ship, leaning next to Rose’s cot, breathing and talking to her sometimes, barely audible, nothing Poe can make out through the room of people, but the thing is -
well, even while Poe sees it with his eyes, his instincts tell him that it’s not enough, that he needs more than just seeing Finn, he needs to know, needs the knowledge of Finn’s actual overall well being somewhere else than just in his brain, acknowledged through the visual feedback of seeing Finn.
Somewhere in the middle of his chest, right between his ribs, there’s a distant, but very insistent ache, a yearning feeling of something - ever since they met.
It has changed, transformed itself over the time.
This is what it’s been so far
- a flutter of hope and wonder and surprise when the stormtrooper who took him pulled of his helmet and revealed dark eyes and skin, sweaty and afraid and kind and brave and the brightest thing that Poe has ever seen
- the crashing burning spark of adrenaline and still so much wonder, the recklessness of flying that TIE fighter, of having a stormtrooper at his back, hollering and whooping and Poe remembers this too: thinking that in its core this experience is a lot like what it feels to jump into hyperdrive for the first time, of flying through an unexpected air pocket; crazy scary, but in the good way, too
- (when you make it, that is)
- and because of that; when Poe wakes up in the blazing sun, alone, breathing sand and heat, gasping at soundless screams and there’s so much fear clogging his throat; the place between his ribs is aching and aching, more than where he is bleeding from the left side of his forehead
- it grows beyond ris ribs, squashes his lungs at night, makes him wake up in the middle of the night and stare at the dim lights of BB8’s empty charging station; it is an overwhelming feeling, because how do you mourn something you didn’t have, grief for someone you didn’t know, just the act of unspeakable bravery and kindness, the glimpse of what it takes to be human between the sea of black and white and darkness, darkness darkness
but then
- brightness again, blazing fire, roaring in Poe’s ears and sparks and more air pockets, because there he is again, wearing Poe’s jacket, wide eyed and running towards Poe, as if there’s a space quite similar between Finns ribs, too, and together they’re intertwined and pulling them towards each other
But now, everything is distant and unsure and Poe is aching again, even though he doesn’t understand, because Finn is here, alive.
There was a moment when they were looking through the hovering wall of rocks, that Rey had lifted and freed them, when Poe felt (or thought he felt? His mind has conjured much greater things, after all.), Finn’s fingers on the back of his left arm, briefly, lightly, as if he slid down to meet Poe’s hand with his own, but then he was gone again, stepping forward, moving past Poe to go and meet his friend.
They haven’t talked since, there hasn’t been much time, getting on the ship, fleeing, everyone trying to touch everyone else, making sure they’re okay, as okay as they can be, laying down the wounded and talking all over each other.
But they have been in space for hours and hours now and half of the group have settled down somewhere, succumbing through the tiredness, huddled together, low talking between those who are still awake.
Poe would have thought that Finn would want to be with Rey, but she has been talking to the General for what seems like and eternity and Finn is still at Rose’s bed, watching over her, there’s been a split second when their eyes had met, because instincts are instincts and Poe can’t help to return to Finn every few moments, recheck his visual apprehension of Finn; he seems fine, still fine, even after checking for the hundredth time, his shirt stained, scratched up, but still breathing and standing upright.
And in that one moment, Finn had looked up, met Poe’s gaze and his heart went thud, thud , echoing through the place in his chest, nearly trying to jump out of its cage, towards Finn, but then Finn had looked away again, frowning and looking back at Rose instead and that’s where they are now -
Poe sitting here, yearning and feeling weirdly ripped open, restless but unable to move and there’s a new thing he can identify now; fear, but a different sort, he sees the way Finn looks at Rose, touches her gently, as if to make sure she’s there, solid, alive, breathing (exactly like Poe wants to touch Finn), and there’s the thread that had connected their chests, cut loose, flapping around like a ripped cord in the wind -
Poe feels alone. He presses the heel of his hand against the center of his chest and hopes that this, too, will pass and transform itself again.