the mask is itchy and he wants to take it off but he can’t, for poe’s sake. he has to keep it on. he has to get him outta here. out of the carbonite, out of jabba’s palace. and, as he remembers the companion he had brought in as prisoner, he’s gotta get ben out too. it’s a noble sacrifice, a noble exchange except finn doesn’t believe that. he’s greedy. he’ll come in with one and out with two. now if only he can find— there. there he is.
displayed like a trophy. it makes finn sick.
there are too many buttons, displays he doesn’t understand and doesn’t have time to read and oh, frustration wells up like a low growl he can’t let out his throat. his fingers are restless, he can’t focus, one eye out for any waking members of the palace but no, no he has to find a way. he has to figure it out somehow. && perhaps it’s luck or perhaps it’s because he just closes his eyes and knows but with a few buttons pushed, a few dials turned, the cement gray begins melting, revealing tender skin and oh, finn almost cheers.
should’ve thought to be ready for him to fall, though. oops.
he hits the ground and immediately
begins to search for that familiar
silver armor, despite shaking almost
violently from the sudden change
in temperature. he realizes he’s alone,
he can’t see anyone--he can’t see anything.
he feels arms wrap around him and sit
him up, holding tight as if trying to suppress
his shaking. he’ panting, drenched in
sweat, he can hardly breathe.
“Where--where am I?” poe demands, trying
his hardest to sit up on his own and salvage
what he could of his pride.