Han, Chewie, and the kid, were preparing the Falcon and getting ready to leave D’Qar for Starkiller base. While they all were making preparations, Chewie nudged him and motioned to the worn and slightly ripped clothes Finn was wearing.
Han and Chewie wondered why Finn hadn’t changed his clothes at all while they were with the Resistance. They were starting to look on their way out after their last scuffle with the First Order.
Han recognized that Finn had still been wearing his Stormtrooper clothes under the Resistance jacket. It was hard to miss. Han himself had disguised as a Stormtrooper with Luke all those many years ago, so he knew roughly what they looked like under the armor. 34 years hadn’t changed that much in the Stormtrooper dress code apparently.
Sighing, Han waved at Chewie and told him he’d handle it. He searched through the Falcon trying to find some extra clothes for Finn. The kid was risking his life trying to help their asses and save his friend, or maybe she was his girlfriend? whatever she was, the least Han thought he could do was make sure Finn had something clean to change into after everything was said and done.
Just as they were about to take off, Han gruffly handed Finn an outfit he had found tucked away in the Falcon. Lando had gotten it for him decades ago, saying something about him needing to update his wardrobe.
For what?! Classics never go out of style. The kid might like it though. It seemed more his style with the Solo touch, and it had the Lando seal of approval.
Finn looked down at the clothes and shuffled awkwardly, bitting down on the inside of his cheek. The only thing he has ever been given was the armor he was expected to die in, and Han was giving him something that was just his and no one else’s.
He looked up at Han, doing his best to stay composed. “Thanks, Solo,” Finn said softly, hoping his voice didn’t crack.
It did, but Han wasn’t going to call him on it.
Han smirked, patting the kid on the shoulder, “No problem, big deal. C’mon, let’s go save the day.”
Finn smiled back and tucked the cloths safety away. He’d wear them after the mission. He’d have to thank Han properly for this. It wasn’t like he had any money, or anything, but maybe he could clean the Falcon! The old thing looked like it needed a wash…and pait…and new parts…
Maybe he’d talk to Solo about getting a new ship.
After the Falcon sped away from Crait and the rest of the Resistance were finally settling into whatever section of the ship wasn’t infested with Porgs, Finn, who had retrieved the clothes Han had given him, had found his own little secluded space of the ship to be alone.
It hadn’t taken long for Finn to find the clothes. He’d left them in the same compartment he had found the blanket he had given to Rose earlier.
Everyone was so busy. Poe dealing with the news from Black Squadron, Rey reading the Jedi texts. Finn just wanted to be alone for a chance and think.
Finn held the clothes tightly in his hands as memories of the brief time had shared with Han played in his mind. Han’s death was the memory that kept repeatedly flashing in his mind.
Everything had happened so fast. From Starkiller to Crait felt like it had happened I’m in a heartbeat, and Finn still felt like he was still there, laying face down in the face. It was at that moment of all the emotions came at once and Finn felt the soldier’s mask he wore crack.
Finn slammed his fist into a wall, barley feeling the throbbing pain that coursed through his knuckles as they made contact. How could that bastard kill his own father? How could he just have something that so many people didn’t have, and just throw it all away?
Holding the clothes closer, the first real gift he had ever gotten that was his alone, Finn felt his throat choke out a sob as his legs weakened and he let himself slide down to the floor.
“Thanks, Solo,” Finn whispered into the clothes, “Thanks.”
A sad little fic on how I think Finn got his clothes for EP IX.