Snippets and stories, rarely finished. •••••••••••••••••••••••••• Allie | 30s Follows & interacts from @sugared-tea THIS BLOG IS 18+ Icon by @ultdetails
He’s the best pilot in the Resistance, with a penchant for doing things his way. You’re the clumsiest mechanic around, with a knack for machinery and a bad case of foot in mouth disease. Turns out, you both have some soft sides and sharp edges hidden beneath your reputations.
Rating: M for some themes and maybe some eventual smut 🤭
Series Warnings/Tags: the slowest of burns, death of a character, grieving, alcoholism/bad drinking habits, unhealthy coping mechanisms, injuries
I just saw a fanfic author on tiktok advertising their fic like booktok does and peace and love but friend. your real life actual face??? associated with your fic???
listen, as far as y'all are concerned, I am a sentient seal with access to a keyboard, and we’re leaving it at that
Tags/Warnings: the slowest of burns, death of a character, grieving, alcoholism/bad drinking habits, unhealthy coping mechanisms, injuries
Chapter Index
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The next few weeks passed quickly. Jess and the rest of Black Squadron had been sent out on a few small missions, nothing out of the ordinary. All it really meant was that in addition to your usual work, you were busy trying not to worry about her. And, apparently, Poe.
No matter how much you tried to distract yourself with work, Poe was always at the back of your mind. You did your best to keep him there, you really did. But you found you couldn’t help it. You were desperate for his missions to go smoothly, and you wished it was because you cared about what their successes meant for the Resistance as a whole. If you were honest with yourself, though, it was because you were almost certain Poe felt he had no one to lean on when things went south. You feared that the next time something happened, it might break him for good.
So far, your worry had been unfounded. Black Squadron always came back, and each time they did you were rewarded with the usual crushing hug and performance notes from Jess. The new addition that threw you for a loop, however, was the small smile and wave Poe never failed to give you as he left the hangar. He never had time to stop and talk, but you were glad that was the case. You didn’t want him to see the stumbling mess you became around most people when you were sober, didn’t want him to know that the Y/N he had met weeks ago wasn’t the real Y/N. That she was an illusion fueled by alcohol, grief, and moonlight.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Your fear became reality one morning when they came limping back to base, battered and bruised. It should have been a simple mission to get information on the First Order’s movements: observe from a distance, then report back. But somewhere along the line it had gone horribly wrong… the details were muddy, but all you knew was that a skirmish had happened near a small, previously unknown outpost. The squadron had gotten away safely with no major injuries, but a few civilians had gotten caught in the crossfire.
The ships, however, weren’t in as good shape as their pilots. You had your hands full as soon as they got back, repairing the damage on Jess’ ship as well as helping out a few others with their work. The day passed in a whirlwind of grime, sweat, and cussing. Even Bruiser was busy, rolling across the hangar frantically, lending a hand to whoever needed it.
It was late by the time you were finally able to head back to your bunk. The work wasn’t done, but if you didn’t get some sleep you wouldn’t be able to actually fix anything correctly. You turned to Bruiser as you arranged your tools on your workbench, sighing. “Hell of a day, huh bud? Ready to turn in?”
Bruiser beeped and booped that he planned on staying up most of the night running tests, and that he would just charge up in the hangar tonight, not wanting to wake you when he did finish.
You smiled fondly at him, and bent down to give him a hug. “You don’t have to do that, B… it can wait till tomorrow. Let’s get some sleep.” It made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort - It’s power was at 68%, and would be just fine thank you. But you, on the other hand, looked like you needed to sleep for a year.
“Wow, you sure know how to flatter a girl, B.” you tease the droid. Knowing you couldn’t convince him otherwise, you gave him a last pat and said goodnight. He nudged your knee affectionately, and sped off to work.
Standing up, you stretched your aching body. All you wanted to do was collapse in bed, but you forced yourself to grab some clean clothes and a towel before heading down the hall to the communal ‘freshers to wash up. The last thing you needed to add to your ever growing to-do list was scrubbing grease stained sheets.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Feeling slightly better now that you were in pajamas and no longer grimy, you shuffled down the corridor back to your bunk. Maker, you needed sleep, and you needed it now.
Your door had barely shut behind you when you heard loud footsteps in the hall, followed by quiet knocking on your door. Rolling your eyes and letting out an exasperated groan, you turn around and yank the door open before whoever it was could finish knocking. It was probably a junior mechanic who had spied you coming back, and wanted help with something. You try not to sound too irritated at their intrusion, but fail. “Look, I know there’s more work to do, but I’m sorry, I’m beat. Find me tomorrow morning and I’ll help then, ok?”
As you finish your less-than-pleasant speech, you finally recognize the person in front of you. It’s Poe, a sad smile on his face. “Geeze, remind me to not ever ask you for anything late at night ever again,” he quips.
Your eyes widen and your stomach drops, anxiety setting in. Fuck, how much of an asshole must he think you are? “P-Poe!” You stammer, “I am so sorry, I thought you were one of the other mechanics coming to ask me to help them with something and I just don’t have the mental bandwidth to do that right now but if I had known it was you I wouldn’t have snapped like that I’m so sorry it’s just been a long day and I… shit I’m rambling I’m so sorry, did you need something?” You blush furiously, mentally kicking yourself for being so damned awkward.
To your surprise, Poe doesn’t seem to be annoyed like most people tend to be when your mouth is running faster than your brain. His smile has grown a little brighter, and his eyes hold a hint of amusement. When you meet his gaze though, the smile fades. He begins to shuffle his feet - this must be a nervous tic of his. He speaks, but shifts his gaze away from you as he does. “I know it’s late, but I’m glad I caught you. I was wondering, what you said by the forest… did you mean it?”
You quickly replay the morning in your mind, not that you need to. You remember all of it perfectly. You told him he didn’t have to ever face anything alone, not if he didn’t want to. You nod. “Of course I meant it, Poe”.
He runs his fingers through his hair. “Um, well… today… today was rough. And you don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to, really, no pressure. But, um, I’d really like to not be alone tonight, not if I don’t have to be.”
You barely caught the last part, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. When what he says registers, you’re frozen in place. Poe fucking Dameron had a rough go and was coming to you for help. Wanted to be around you when he was hurting. What the hell was going on?
“Actually, forget I said anything, Y/N,” he blurts out. “I can’t imagine how tired you are, I know the ships were in bad shape and you must’ve had a long day. I’ll just let you get some sleep.” He quickly turns to leave, but before he can get two steps down the hall he’s stopped by your hand on his forearm.
Slightly shocked at your own actions - you’d swear your arm moved of its own accord - you stare at him, trying to appear more confident than you feel. “Poe, get your ass in here,” you command, not unkindly. When he doesn’t move, you gently pull him towards you. With a sigh of relief you suspect he thought was quieter than it actually was, he follows you into your bunk.
When the door shuts, you finally get a good look at him. Everyone knows Poe is handsome… dark curls, warm eyes, and a smile that could knock the breath right out of you. Even though all of that is still there, his hair is disheveled and still wet from the ‘fresher. His eyes don’t have that glint of mischief in them, and are ringed with red. He’s smiling, but it’s weak and fading fast. The man before you wasn’t the Poe everyone else knew, and your heart broke for him all over again.
Being around people you didn’t know well stressed you out, and Poe definitely was still in that category. But your anxiety had a loophole: if someone was in distress, a twisted maternal instinct took over, forcing your nerves to slink off and hide in the recesses of your mind. And in this moment, who he normally was didn’t matter. The Poe standing in your bunk needed someone to take care of him, to lift the burden of being a leader from his shoulders for one night so he could feel freely without fear of ridicule. So that’s what you were going to do.
He glances around your bunk, shifting on his feet, obviously a little uncomfortable intruding on your personal space. It was messy, but still organized. The desk was littered with manuals and hastily scrawled notes, blueprints for new mods tacked up on the wall above it. Your hammock hung in the corner, a blanket halfway out of it. The walls around it and your bed were covered in sketches of ships, both old and new. On your clothes cabinet, a small holoprojector flipped through a few photos of you, Wills, Jess, and Cade.
“It’s not much, but it’s home”, you shrug, wanting to put him at ease. He wanders over to look at the sketches of the ships, a genuine smile crossing his face. “These are amazing! Did you draw all of these?”
You smile at the sketches, laugh quietly. “I wish. I have zero artistic ability. My brother drew them.”
“Well, he certainly has a gift.” You hum your agreement, not bothering to correct him. Had a gift. As Poe finishes looking at the sketches he turns to you, smile fading completely. “Y/N…” he begins, but you cut him off. “Poe, stop.” He looks at you, confused and a bit taken aback by your firm tone. But when you sit on the bed and motion for him to sit next to you, he does.
You turn your body slightly, so you’re facing him. “Do you want to talk about it?” you question, your voice gentler than before. He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not really.”
“That’s fine. Do you want to talk at all?” He looks at you, dejected. “No,” he says quietly, almost as if he’s embarrassed. “I just… I needed to be around someone who doesn’t expect anything from me. And I thought after that night, maybe you knew what that felt like… and maybe you wouldn’t judge me for needing it.” Tears start to form in the corners of his eyes, and he quickly turns away from you.
You fight a sudden urge to envelop him in a hug, to try to physically hold together the pieces of the fractured man in front of you. Instead, you force yourself to stand up. Walking over to the control panel, you dim the lights to a soft glow. You return to the edge of the bed, and kneel in front of him.
Gently covering one of his hands with both of yours, you murmur his name and try to catch his eye. “Poe, I’ll be anything you need me to be, ok? Just let me know and I’ll be here for you.”
He still refuses to meet your gaze, but nods. You sigh, unsure of how to best help him. “Do you want me to talk about something? Take your mind off things?” He doesn’t respond. “Poe?”
He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. “I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t know what I want, except to not be alone. Everyone else would just keep asking if I was ok, but you know I’m not. So can we just sit, and not bother pretending that everything is alright?”
You slowly release his hand, and stand up. “Of course, Poe,” you say softly. “I have some reading I wanted to do before bed, so I’m gonna go sit at my desk and do that. You can lay on my bed, climb in the hammock, pace, stare off into space, whatever you’d like. I’ll be here if you need me for anything. Even if it’s just knowing there’s someone with you.” He mumbles a barely audible thank you, and you turn towards your desk, trying to stop the tears threatening to spill from your own eyes.
Poe was restless, but he didn’t get up from your bed. At least, not that you could tell. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, knowing that as soon as you saw him his pain would bleed into you, and you wouldn’t be able to stop your tears. You didn’t care if he saw you cry, not really. He’d already seen that. But you knew if you did, he’d immediately bury his feelings to try and comfort you. And Poe didn’t deserve that. He was always taking care of everyone else, and it was high time someone took care of him.
Two hours went by before you felt brave enough to turn and check on him, not having heard any noises for the past half hour. The sight before you tugged at your heartstrings: Poe was fast asleep and snoring lightly. His head rested on one of your pillows and his arms clutched the other tightly to his chest, while his legs dangled off the side of your small bed. You moved to wake him, assuming he would probably want to return to his own bed. But as you drew nearer, you stopped short. He looked so peaceful, finally at rest after a rough night, and you don’t have the heart to wake him up and rob him of what was probably the first good sleep he’d had in a long while.
Carefully pulling the blanket from where it was bunched up under his legs, you covered him. Without thinking, you tenderly let your hand wander to his forehead and brush a curl out of his eyes. You begin to tear up once again, wishing you could take away his pain. And before you know you’re speaking, you whisper out the thought that has been floating in your head ever since he walked in your door. “I’m so sorry, Poe. I’m so sorry you’re a good man, because if you weren’t all this would be so much easier for you.”
Slipping towards your hammock, you wad up a jacket to use as a pillow. You turn the lights completely off and hop up into it, covering yourself with your spare blanket. Only when you shut your eyes do you finally let the tears slip out as his even breathing lulls you to sleep.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
You wake with a start, the sound of your alarm pounding in your ears. Maker, you were NOT a morning person. Slinging your legs over the side of what you’re sure is your bed, you stand up. And immediately land facedown on the ground, dumped out of your hammock unceremoniously by your favorite force: gravity.
Groaning, you shove yourself upright, still groggy. Why the hell were you sleeping in your hammock? You catch sight of the freshly made bed. Weird, you rarely made it. A piece of paper on the pillow catches your eye. Weirder. You grab it, and as you start to read the night before begins to come back.
Y/N,
I’m so sorry for sneaking out, I had a briefing early this morning. I was going to tell you goodbye, but you looked so cozy. I just couldn’t wake you.
Thanks again for… well, you know. You didn’t have to, but it means a lot that you did.
I hope I’ll see you around today.
Poe Dameron
You read the short note once, twice, three times. Hating how happy it made you that he cared enough to leave it, hoping that you had at least done some good for him. You set the note back down on your pillow as you get ready for the day.
You finish lacing up your boots and walk to the door, but turn back just before opening it. Grabbing the note, you quickly walk over to your desk and open a drawer. Just like the lake, last night was for you and Poe only, and you wanted to keep the memory safe. So you carefully tucked it next to the few meaningful keepsakes you owned in a small wooden box.
You shut the drawer with a flick of your wrist and set off to start your day, smiling for a reason you just couldn’t put your finger on.
Tags/Warnings: the slowest of burns, death of a character, grieving, alcoholism/bad drinking habits, unhealthy coping mechanisms, injuries
Chapter Index
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The next few weeks passed quickly. Jess and the rest of Black Squadron had been sent out on a few small missions, nothing out of the ordinary. All it really meant was that in addition to your usual work, you were busy trying not to worry about her. And, apparently, Poe.
No matter how much you tried to distract yourself with work, Poe was always at the back of your mind. You did your best to keep him there, you really did. But you found you couldn’t help it. You were desperate for his missions to go smoothly, and you wished it was because you cared about what their successes meant for the Resistance as a whole. If you were honest with yourself, though, it was because you were almost certain Poe felt he had no one to lean on when things went south. You feared that the next time something happened, it might break him for good.
So far, your worry had been unfounded. Black Squadron always came back, and each time they did you were rewarded with the usual crushing hug and performance notes from Jess. The new addition that threw you for a loop, however, was the small smile and wave Poe never failed to give you as he left the hangar. He never had time to stop and talk, but you were glad that was the case. You didn’t want him to see the stumbling mess you became around most people when you were sober, didn’t want him to know that the Y/N he had met weeks ago wasn’t the real Y/N. That she was an illusion fueled by alcohol, grief, and moonlight.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Your fear became reality one morning when they came limping back to base, battered and bruised. It should have been a simple mission to get information on the First Order’s movements: observe from a distance, then report back. But somewhere along the line it had gone horribly wrong… the details were muddy, but all you knew was that a skirmish had happened near a small, previously unknown outpost. The squadron had gotten away safely with no major injuries, but a few civilians had gotten caught in the crossfire.
The ships, however, weren’t in as good shape as their pilots. You had your hands full as soon as they got back, repairing the damage on Jess’ ship as well as helping out a few others with their work. The day passed in a whirlwind of grime, sweat, and cussing. Even Bruiser was busy, rolling across the hangar frantically, lending a hand to whoever needed it.
It was late by the time you were finally able to head back to your bunk. The work wasn’t done, but if you didn’t get some sleep you wouldn’t be able to actually fix anything correctly. You turned to Bruiser as you arranged your tools on your workbench, sighing. “Hell of a day, huh bud? Ready to turn in?”
Bruiser beeped and booped that he planned on staying up most of the night running tests, and that he would just charge up in the hangar tonight, not wanting to wake you when he did finish.
You smiled fondly at him, and bent down to give him a hug. “You don’t have to do that, B… it can wait till tomorrow. Let’s get some sleep.” It made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort - It’s power was at 68%, and would be just fine thank you. But you, on the other hand, looked like you needed to sleep for a year.
“Wow, you sure know how to flatter a girl, B.” you tease the droid. Knowing you couldn’t convince him otherwise, you gave him a last pat and said goodnight. He nudged your knee affectionately, and sped off to work.
Standing up, you stretched your aching body. All you wanted to do was collapse in bed, but you forced yourself to grab some clean clothes and a towel before heading down the hall to the communal ‘freshers to wash up. The last thing you needed to add to your ever growing to-do list was scrubbing grease stained sheets.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Feeling slightly better now that you were in pajamas and no longer grimy, you shuffled down the corridor back to your bunk. Maker, you needed sleep, and you needed it now.
Your door had barely shut behind you when you heard loud footsteps in the hall, followed by quiet knocking on your door. Rolling your eyes and letting out an exasperated groan, you turn around and yank the door open before whoever it was could finish knocking. It was probably a junior mechanic who had spied you coming back, and wanted help with something. You try not to sound too irritated at their intrusion, but fail. “Look, I know there’s more work to do, but I’m sorry, I’m beat. Find me tomorrow morning and I’ll help then, ok?”
As you finish your less-than-pleasant speech, you finally recognize the person in front of you. It’s Poe, a sad smile on his face. “Geeze, remind me to not ever ask you for anything late at night ever again,” he quips.
Your eyes widen and your stomach drops, anxiety setting in. Fuck, how much of an asshole must he think you are? “P-Poe!” You stammer, “I am so sorry, I thought you were one of the other mechanics coming to ask me to help them with something and I just don’t have the mental bandwidth to do that right now but if I had known it was you I wouldn’t have snapped like that I’m so sorry it’s just been a long day and I… shit I’m rambling I’m so sorry, did you need something?” You blush furiously, mentally kicking yourself for being so damned awkward.
To your surprise, Poe doesn’t seem to be annoyed like most people tend to be when your mouth is running faster than your brain. His smile has grown a little brighter, and his eyes hold a hint of amusement. When you meet his gaze though, the smile fades. He begins to shuffle his feet - this must be a nervous tic of his. He speaks, but shifts his gaze away from you as he does. “I know it’s late, but I’m glad I caught you. I was wondering, what you said by the forest… did you mean it?”
You quickly replay the morning in your mind, not that you need to. You remember all of it perfectly. You told him he didn’t have to ever face anything alone, not if he didn’t want to. You nod. “Of course I meant it, Poe”.
He runs his fingers through his hair. “Um, well… today… today was rough. And you don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to, really, no pressure. But, um, I’d really like to not be alone tonight, not if I don’t have to be.”
You barely caught the last part, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. When what he says registers, you’re frozen in place. Poe fucking Dameron had a rough go and was coming to you for help. Wanted to be around you when he was hurting. What the hell was going on?
“Actually, forget I said anything, Y/N,” he blurts out. “I can’t imagine how tired you are, I know the ships were in bad shape and you must’ve had a long day. I’ll just let you get some sleep.” He quickly turns to leave, but before he can get two steps down the hall he’s stopped by your hand on his forearm.
Slightly shocked at your own actions - you’d swear your arm moved of its own accord - you stare at him, trying to appear more confident than you feel. “Poe, get your ass in here,” you command, not unkindly. When he doesn’t move, you gently pull him towards you. With a sigh of relief you suspect he thought was quieter than it actually was, he follows you into your bunk.
When the door shuts, you finally get a good look at him. Everyone knows Poe is handsome… dark curls, warm eyes, and a smile that could knock the breath right out of you. Even though all of that is still there, his hair is disheveled and still wet from the ‘fresher. His eyes don’t have that glint of mischief in them, and are ringed with red. He’s smiling, but it’s weak and fading fast. The man before you wasn’t the Poe everyone else knew, and your heart broke for him all over again.
Being around people you didn’t know well stressed you out, and Poe definitely was still in that category. But your anxiety had a loophole: if someone was in distress, a twisted maternal instinct took over, forcing your nerves to slink off and hide in the recesses of your mind. And in this moment, who he normally was didn’t matter. The Poe standing in your bunk needed someone to take care of him, to lift the burden of being a leader from his shoulders for one night so he could feel freely without fear of ridicule. So that’s what you were going to do.
He glances around your bunk, shifting on his feet, obviously a little uncomfortable intruding on your personal space. It was messy, but still organized. The desk was littered with manuals and hastily scrawled notes, blueprints for new mods tacked up on the wall above it. Your hammock hung in the corner, a blanket halfway out of it. The walls around it and your bed were covered in sketches of ships, both old and new. On your clothes cabinet, a small holoprojector flipped through a few photos of you, Wills, Jess, and Cade.
“It’s not much, but it’s home”, you shrug, wanting to put him at ease. He wanders over to look at the sketches of the ships, a genuine smile crossing his face. “These are amazing! Did you draw all of these?”
You smile at the sketches, laugh quietly. “I wish. I have zero artistic ability. My brother drew them.”
“Well, he certainly has a gift.” You hum your agreement, not bothering to correct him. Had a gift. As Poe finishes looking at the sketches he turns to you, smile fading completely. “Y/N…” he begins, but you cut him off. “Poe, stop.” He looks at you, confused and a bit taken aback by your firm tone. But when you sit on the bed and motion for him to sit next to you, he does.
You turn your body slightly, so you’re facing him. “Do you want to talk about it?” you question, your voice gentler than before. He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not really.”
“That’s fine. Do you want to talk at all?” He looks at you, dejected. “No,” he says quietly, almost as if he’s embarrassed. “I just… I needed to be around someone who doesn’t expect anything from me. And I thought after that night, maybe you knew what that felt like… and maybe you wouldn’t judge me for needing it.” Tears start to form in the corners of his eyes, and he quickly turns away from you.
You fight a sudden urge to envelop him in a hug, to try to physically hold together the pieces of the fractured man in front of you. Instead, you force yourself to stand up. Walking over to the control panel, you dim the lights to a soft glow. You return to the edge of the bed, and kneel in front of him.
Gently covering one of his hands with both of yours, you murmur his name and try to catch his eye. “Poe, I’ll be anything you need me to be, ok? Just let me know and I’ll be here for you.”
He still refuses to meet your gaze, but nods. You sigh, unsure of how to best help him. “Do you want me to talk about something? Take your mind off things?” He doesn’t respond. “Poe?”
He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. “I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t know what I want, except to not be alone. Everyone else would just keep asking if I was ok, but you know I’m not. So can we just sit, and not bother pretending that everything is alright?”
You slowly release his hand, and stand up. “Of course, Poe,” you say softly. “I have some reading I wanted to do before bed, so I’m gonna go sit at my desk and do that. You can lay on my bed, climb in the hammock, pace, stare off into space, whatever you’d like. I’ll be here if you need me for anything. Even if it’s just knowing there’s someone with you.” He mumbles a barely audible thank you, and you turn towards your desk, trying to stop the tears threatening to spill from your own eyes.
Poe was restless, but he didn’t get up from your bed. At least, not that you could tell. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, knowing that as soon as you saw him his pain would bleed into you, and you wouldn’t be able to stop your tears. You didn’t care if he saw you cry, not really. He’d already seen that. But you knew if you did, he’d immediately bury his feelings to try and comfort you. And Poe didn’t deserve that. He was always taking care of everyone else, and it was high time someone took care of him.
Two hours went by before you felt brave enough to turn and check on him, not having heard any noises for the past half hour. The sight before you tugged at your heartstrings: Poe was fast asleep and snoring lightly. His head rested on one of your pillows and his arms clutched the other tightly to his chest, while his legs dangled off the side of your small bed. You moved to wake him, assuming he would probably want to return to his own bed. But as you drew nearer, you stopped short. He looked so peaceful, finally at rest after a rough night, and you don’t have the heart to wake him up and rob him of what was probably the first good sleep he’d had in a long while.
Carefully pulling the blanket from where it was bunched up under his legs, you covered him. Without thinking, you tenderly let your hand wander to his forehead and brush a curl out of his eyes. You begin to tear up once again, wishing you could take away his pain. And before you know you’re speaking, you whisper out the thought that has been floating in your head ever since he walked in your door. “I’m so sorry, Poe. I’m so sorry you’re a good man, because if you weren’t all this would be so much easier for you.”
Slipping towards your hammock, you wad up a jacket to use as a pillow. You turn the lights completely off and hop up into it, covering yourself with your spare blanket. Only when you shut your eyes do you finally let the tears slip out as his even breathing lulls you to sleep.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
You wake with a start, the sound of your alarm pounding in your ears. Maker, you were NOT a morning person. Slinging your legs over the side of what you’re sure is your bed, you stand up. And immediately land facedown on the ground, dumped out of your hammock unceremoniously by your favorite force: gravity.
Groaning, you shove yourself upright, still groggy. Why the hell were you sleeping in your hammock? You catch sight of the freshly made bed. Weird, you rarely made it. A piece of paper on the pillow catches your eye. Weirder. You grab it, and as you start to read the night before begins to come back.
Y/N,
I’m so sorry for sneaking out, I had a briefing early this morning. I was going to tell you goodbye, but you looked so cozy. I just couldn’t wake you.
Thanks again for… well, you know. You didn’t have to, but it means a lot that you did.
I hope I’ll see you around today.
Poe Dameron
You read the short note once, twice, three times. Hating how happy it made you that he cared enough to leave it, hoping that you had at least done some good for him. You set the note back down on your pillow as you get ready for the day.
You finish lacing up your boots and walk to the door, but turn back just before opening it. Grabbing the note, you quickly walk over to your desk and open a drawer. Just like the lake, last night was for you and Poe only, and you wanted to keep the memory safe. So you carefully tucked it next to the few meaningful keepsakes you owned in a small wooden box.
You shut the drawer with a flick of your wrist and set off to start your day, smiling for a reason you just couldn’t put your finger on.
Tags/Warnings: the slowest of burns, death of a character, grieving, alcoholism/bad drinking habits, unhealthy coping mechanisms, injuries
Chapter Index
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The next few weeks passed quickly. Jess and the rest of Black Squadron had been sent out on a few small missions, nothing out of the ordinary. All it really meant was that in addition to your usual work, you were busy trying not to worry about her. And, apparently, Poe.
No matter how much you tried to distract yourself with work, Poe was always at the back of your mind. You did your best to keep him there, you really did. But you found you couldn’t help it. You were desperate for his missions to go smoothly, and you wished it was because you cared about what their successes meant for the Resistance as a whole. If you were honest with yourself, though, it was because you were almost certain Poe felt he had no one to lean on when things went south. You feared that the next time something happened, it might break him for good.
So far, your worry had been unfounded. Black Squadron always came back, and each time they did you were rewarded with the usual crushing hug and performance notes from Jess. The new addition that threw you for a loop, however, was the small smile and wave Poe never failed to give you as he left the hangar. He never had time to stop and talk, but you were glad that was the case. You didn’t want him to see the stumbling mess you became around most people when you were sober, didn’t want him to know that the Y/N he had met weeks ago wasn’t the real Y/N. That she was an illusion fueled by alcohol, grief, and moonlight.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Your fear became reality one morning when they came limping back to base, battered and bruised. It should have been a simple mission to get information on the First Order’s movements: observe from a distance, then report back. But somewhere along the line it had gone horribly wrong… the details were muddy, but all you knew was that a skirmish had happened near a small, previously unknown outpost. The squadron had gotten away safely with no major injuries, but a few civilians had gotten caught in the crossfire.
The ships, however, weren’t in as good shape as their pilots. You had your hands full as soon as they got back, repairing the damage on Jess’ ship as well as helping out a few others with their work. The day passed in a whirlwind of grime, sweat, and cussing. Even Bruiser was busy, rolling across the hangar frantically, lending a hand to whoever needed it.
It was late by the time you were finally able to head back to your bunk. The work wasn’t done, but if you didn’t get some sleep you wouldn’t be able to actually fix anything correctly. You turned to Bruiser as you arranged your tools on your workbench, sighing. “Hell of a day, huh bud? Ready to turn in?”
Bruiser beeped and booped that he planned on staying up most of the night running tests, and that he would just charge up in the hangar tonight, not wanting to wake you when he did finish.
You smiled fondly at him, and bent down to give him a hug. “You don’t have to do that, B… it can wait till tomorrow. Let’s get some sleep.” It made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort - It’s power was at 68%, and would be just fine thank you. But you, on the other hand, looked like you needed to sleep for a year.
“Wow, you sure know how to flatter a girl, B.” you tease the droid. Knowing you couldn’t convince him otherwise, you gave him a last pat and said goodnight. He nudged your knee affectionately, and sped off to work.
Standing up, you stretched your aching body. All you wanted to do was collapse in bed, but you forced yourself to grab some clean clothes and a towel before heading down the hall to the communal ‘freshers to wash up. The last thing you needed to add to your ever growing to-do list was scrubbing grease stained sheets.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Feeling slightly better now that you were in pajamas and no longer grimy, you shuffled down the corridor back to your bunk. Maker, you needed sleep, and you needed it now.
Your door had barely shut behind you when you heard loud footsteps in the hall, followed by quiet knocking on your door. Rolling your eyes and letting out an exasperated groan, you turn around and yank the door open before whoever it was could finish knocking. It was probably a junior mechanic who had spied you coming back, and wanted help with something. You try not to sound too irritated at their intrusion, but fail. “Look, I know there’s more work to do, but I’m sorry, I’m beat. Find me tomorrow morning and I’ll help then, ok?”
As you finish your less-than-pleasant speech, you finally recognize the person in front of you. It’s Poe, a sad smile on his face. “Geeze, remind me to not ever ask you for anything late at night ever again,” he quips.
Your eyes widen and your stomach drops, anxiety setting in. Fuck, how much of an asshole must he think you are? “P-Poe!” You stammer, “I am so sorry, I thought you were one of the other mechanics coming to ask me to help them with something and I just don’t have the mental bandwidth to do that right now but if I had known it was you I wouldn’t have snapped like that I’m so sorry it’s just been a long day and I… shit I’m rambling I’m so sorry, did you need something?” You blush furiously, mentally kicking yourself for being so damned awkward.
To your surprise, Poe doesn’t seem to be annoyed like most people tend to be when your mouth is running faster than your brain. His smile has grown a little brighter, and his eyes hold a hint of amusement. When you meet his gaze though, the smile fades. He begins to shuffle his feet - this must be a nervous tic of his. He speaks, but shifts his gaze away from you as he does. “I know it’s late, but I’m glad I caught you. I was wondering, what you said by the forest… did you mean it?”
You quickly replay the morning in your mind, not that you need to. You remember all of it perfectly. You told him he didn’t have to ever face anything alone, not if he didn’t want to. You nod. “Of course I meant it, Poe”.
He runs his fingers through his hair. “Um, well… today… today was rough. And you don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to, really, no pressure. But, um, I’d really like to not be alone tonight, not if I don’t have to be.”
You barely caught the last part, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. When what he says registers, you’re frozen in place. Poe fucking Dameron had a rough go and was coming to you for help. Wanted to be around you when he was hurting. What the hell was going on?
“Actually, forget I said anything, Y/N,” he blurts out. “I can’t imagine how tired you are, I know the ships were in bad shape and you must’ve had a long day. I’ll just let you get some sleep.” He quickly turns to leave, but before he can get two steps down the hall he’s stopped by your hand on his forearm.
Slightly shocked at your own actions - you’d swear your arm moved of its own accord - you stare at him, trying to appear more confident than you feel. “Poe, get your ass in here,” you command, not unkindly. When he doesn’t move, you gently pull him towards you. With a sigh of relief you suspect he thought was quieter than it actually was, he follows you into your bunk.
When the door shuts, you finally get a good look at him. Everyone knows Poe is handsome… dark curls, warm eyes, and a smile that could knock the breath right out of you. Even though all of that is still there, his hair is disheveled and still wet from the ‘fresher. His eyes don’t have that glint of mischief in them, and are ringed with red. He’s smiling, but it’s weak and fading fast. The man before you wasn’t the Poe everyone else knew, and your heart broke for him all over again.
Being around people you didn’t know well stressed you out, and Poe definitely was still in that category. But your anxiety had a loophole: if someone was in distress, a twisted maternal instinct took over, forcing your nerves to slink off and hide in the recesses of your mind. And in this moment, who he normally was didn’t matter. The Poe standing in your bunk needed someone to take care of him, to lift the burden of being a leader from his shoulders for one night so he could feel freely without fear of ridicule. So that’s what you were going to do.
He glances around your bunk, shifting on his feet, obviously a little uncomfortable intruding on your personal space. It was messy, but still organized. The desk was littered with manuals and hastily scrawled notes, blueprints for new mods tacked up on the wall above it. Your hammock hung in the corner, a blanket halfway out of it. The walls around it and your bed were covered in sketches of ships, both old and new. On your clothes cabinet, a small holoprojector flipped through a few photos of you, Wills, Jess, and Cade.
“It’s not much, but it’s home”, you shrug, wanting to put him at ease. He wanders over to look at the sketches of the ships, a genuine smile crossing his face. “These are amazing! Did you draw all of these?”
You smile at the sketches, laugh quietly. “I wish. I have zero artistic ability. My brother drew them.”
“Well, he certainly has a gift.” You hum your agreement, not bothering to correct him. Had a gift. As Poe finishes looking at the sketches he turns to you, smile fading completely. “Y/N…” he begins, but you cut him off. “Poe, stop.” He looks at you, confused and a bit taken aback by your firm tone. But when you sit on the bed and motion for him to sit next to you, he does.
You turn your body slightly, so you’re facing him. “Do you want to talk about it?” you question, your voice gentler than before. He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not really.”
“That’s fine. Do you want to talk at all?” He looks at you, dejected. “No,” he says quietly, almost as if he’s embarrassed. “I just… I needed to be around someone who doesn’t expect anything from me. And I thought after that night, maybe you knew what that felt like… and maybe you wouldn’t judge me for needing it.” Tears start to form in the corners of his eyes, and he quickly turns away from you.
You fight a sudden urge to envelop him in a hug, to try to physically hold together the pieces of the fractured man in front of you. Instead, you force yourself to stand up. Walking over to the control panel, you dim the lights to a soft glow. You return to the edge of the bed, and kneel in front of him.
Gently covering one of his hands with both of yours, you murmur his name and try to catch his eye. “Poe, I’ll be anything you need me to be, ok? Just let me know and I’ll be here for you.”
He still refuses to meet your gaze, but nods. You sigh, unsure of how to best help him. “Do you want me to talk about something? Take your mind off things?” He doesn’t respond. “Poe?”
He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. “I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t know what I want, except to not be alone. Everyone else would just keep asking if I was ok, but you know I’m not. So can we just sit, and not bother pretending that everything is alright?”
You slowly release his hand, and stand up. “Of course, Poe,” you say softly. “I have some reading I wanted to do before bed, so I’m gonna go sit at my desk and do that. You can lay on my bed, climb in the hammock, pace, stare off into space, whatever you’d like. I’ll be here if you need me for anything. Even if it’s just knowing there’s someone with you.” He mumbles a barely audible thank you, and you turn towards your desk, trying to stop the tears threatening to spill from your own eyes.
Poe was restless, but he didn’t get up from your bed. At least, not that you could tell. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, knowing that as soon as you saw him his pain would bleed into you, and you wouldn’t be able to stop your tears. You didn’t care if he saw you cry, not really. He’d already seen that. But you knew if you did, he’d immediately bury his feelings to try and comfort you. And Poe didn’t deserve that. He was always taking care of everyone else, and it was high time someone took care of him.
Two hours went by before you felt brave enough to turn and check on him, not having heard any noises for the past half hour. The sight before you tugged at your heartstrings: Poe was fast asleep and snoring lightly. His head rested on one of your pillows and his arms clutched the other tightly to his chest, while his legs dangled off the side of your small bed. You moved to wake him, assuming he would probably want to return to his own bed. But as you drew nearer, you stopped short. He looked so peaceful, finally at rest after a rough night, and you don’t have the heart to wake him up and rob him of what was probably the first good sleep he’d had in a long while.
Carefully pulling the blanket from where it was bunched up under his legs, you covered him. Without thinking, you tenderly let your hand wander to his forehead and brush a curl out of his eyes. You begin to tear up once again, wishing you could take away his pain. And before you know you’re speaking, you whisper out the thought that has been floating in your head ever since he walked in your door. “I’m so sorry, Poe. I’m so sorry you’re a good man, because if you weren’t all this would be so much easier for you.”
Slipping towards your hammock, you wad up a jacket to use as a pillow. You turn the lights completely off and hop up into it, covering yourself with your spare blanket. Only when you shut your eyes do you finally let the tears slip out as his even breathing lulls you to sleep.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
You wake with a start, the sound of your alarm pounding in your ears. Maker, you were NOT a morning person. Slinging your legs over the side of what you’re sure is your bed, you stand up. And immediately land facedown on the ground, dumped out of your hammock unceremoniously by your favorite force: gravity.
Groaning, you shove yourself upright, still groggy. Why the hell were you sleeping in your hammock? You catch sight of the freshly made bed. Weird, you rarely made it. A piece of paper on the pillow catches your eye. Weirder. You grab it, and as you start to read the night before begins to come back.
Y/N,
I’m so sorry for sneaking out, I had a briefing early this morning. I was going to tell you goodbye, but you looked so cozy. I just couldn’t wake you.
Thanks again for… well, you know. You didn’t have to, but it means a lot that you did.
I hope I’ll see you around today.
Poe Dameron
You read the short note once, twice, three times. Hating how happy it made you that he cared enough to leave it, hoping that you had at least done some good for him. You set the note back down on your pillow as you get ready for the day.
You finish lacing up your boots and walk to the door, but turn back just before opening it. Grabbing the note, you quickly walk over to your desk and open a drawer. Just like the lake, last night was for you and Poe only, and you wanted to keep the memory safe. So you carefully tucked it next to the few meaningful keepsakes you owned in a small wooden box.
You shut the drawer with a flick of your wrist and set off to start your day, smiling for a reason you just couldn’t put your finger on.
