Chapter Text
Poe's lost track of how long he's been waiting by the side of Finn's medbay bed. He marks the time by the muted calls of his comm, buzzing away, everyone frantic with the energy and hope of a free galaxy, everyone hoping to talk to him, the hero of the Resistance. But he's not the hero. He spends all his time sitting, watching the real hero's chest rhythmically rise and fall. Everyone is calling to Poe, encouraging him to fly again, and whenever he manages to drag himself to the mess hall, hundreds of voices call out to him but it's too noisy, the different languages meshing together is blaring cacophony of screams and shouts and the Tai-Fighter is going down and all he can see and feel is hot sand- Poe tells himself that he hides in Finn's med room from all his responsibilities. It's better than admitting that all he truly wants if for Finn to wake up.
He knows it's stupid to hope that Finn's going to recover from taking a friggin' lightsaber to his spine when most people keel over from having their hand lopped off. Poe knows it's stupid but god, if anyone can do it, it's Finn. This man, no, this kid, saved Poe, saved the resistance, kriff, he saved the goddamn galaxy. In the space of just a few days, he defected from the Dark Side, got a name and a droid, wielded Luke Skywalker's lightsaber and destroyed the Star Killer. Poe knows all of this not from Finn himself, of course, too busy saving the universe, but from others. Mostly BB-8 if he's being honest. BB-8 is the only living thing Poe's talked to, other than General Leia, since he heard about Finn's injury. He hasn't even talked to the med wards yet, despite spending more time asleep at the foot of Finn's than in his own room.
Poe falls asleep near Finn's shins, drooling slightly on the sheets, and wakes up when the medical officers wander in every morning. It's been two weeks and he knows that his squadron can handle their missions without him, and he knows they'd probably appreciate his help, but he can't leave this miracle of a boy all alone. So he stays there.
One morning, instead of being woken by a sharp tap on his shoulder, the med officers' preferred method of moving him, he waken to a broad hand petting at his hair. He feels his chest get lighter, smile wider, when he looks up in the vibrant eyes of Finn.
"Welcome to the world of the living, kid."
Finn makes an odd sound and Poe's about to call for help until he realises that the short wheezes he's hearing are laughter, not Finn's final hacking coughs.
"Glad to be back."
Finn's eyes dart around the room as he moves to sit up properly, years of conditioning telling him he shouldn't be laying here, vulnerable like this. Poe does actually call for help when Finn collapses back onto the bed with what was definitely a pained groan. Before he's whisked away from the bed so that Finn, the actual hero of the Resistance, can be treated, he hears Finn's groaned out question.
"Where's Rey?"
Poe starts going out on missions again that afternoon.