Armitage is not officially a prisoner. General Organa has allowed him free access to a significant portion of the base, including the lounge he’s found himself in. Some areas, like the hangars, he’s only allowed in with supervision, because no one quite believes he’s truly defected. Armitage doesn’t blame them. Since no one trusts him, no one spends much time with him. It’s lonely, but Armitage doesn’t usually regret his decision to leave the First Order.
When he hears voices heading his direction, he heads for the door. If others wish to make use of the lounge, he knows his presence won’t be welcome. He’s just stepped through the door when he comes face to face with a group of four Resistance soldiers. He starts to squeeze by them, but one of them puts his arm up to block his way.
“Why don’t you stick around, General?” the man asks, slurring a little as he speaks. His friends seem to agree with him and he finds himself pushed back in the room.
“I don’t want any trouble,” Armitage says, trying once again to get away.
“Don’t want any trouble?” They laugh at that. “Too bad you didn’t feel that way before you blew up the Hosnian System.”
“I knew someone on one of those planets,” says another man.
At least two of them are drunk, and Armitage is sure the other two aren’t entirely sober either. He can probably get away from them. All he needs to do is get to the door and make a run for the small room he’s been assigned where he can lock the door and wait for the men to grow bored. But everyone hates him enough and he doesn’t want everyone talking about how he runs away from confrontation.
By the time the first blow lands on his stomach, Armitage has resigned himself to his fate. By the time he’s on the floor, he can hardly even feel it. He’s used to putting up with abuse, from both the former and current Supreme Leaders of the First Order. At least these men are using their fists and feet.
Armitage doesn’t know how long it lasts. He must have passed out because the next thing he knows, he hears a soft beep and opens his eyes to see an orange and white BB unit. He then feels someone touch his shoulder and he can’t help but flinch and curl in tighter on himself.
“Hey, buddy, you’re okay now.” Armitage recognizes the voice but it takes him until he uncurls his body and opens his eyes to remember his name. Dameron. He’s spoken to the man a few times since he’s defected. Unlike most of the others, he’s somewhat friendly. He doesn’t treat him like he’s the scum of the galaxy, at least.
“Do you think you can walk?” Dameron asks. “I can have a stretcher sent for you.”
“I’m fine,” Armitage says, starting to sit up. Dameron puts a hand on his back and helps push him up.
“You’re not fine,” the pilot insists. “Come on. I can walk you down to the medic.”
“No.” Armitage shakes his head. The last thing he wants is to deal with any more Resistance personnel. He doesn’t imagine any of their medics care for him any more than the soldiers. “I’ll be fine. I can take care of this myself.”
“Yeah, well, just come with me.” Dameron stands up and helps Armitage up as well. He finds himself leaning on the shorter man more than he would like. There’s a few beeps that draw Armitage’s attention to the BB unit, who has rolled to stand near the door. “Please, BB-8. Just bring them to my room.”
There’s a few more beeps and the droid rolls away. With Dameron’s help, Armitage manages to stagger out of the room. Walking is painful and Armitage hates how much he’s relying on the pilot, but he doesn’t think he could have made it back to his room alone.
As it turns out, Dameron isn’t any help with that either.
“Where are we?” Armitage asks as Dameron opens a door to an unfamiliar room. It’s definitely living quarters - there’s a bed, a table, a few chairs and clothing scattered all over. As soon as Armitage asks, he realizes the answer is fairly obvious.
“My room was closer than yours,” Dameron says, walking with him through another door that leads to the bathroom. He helps him sit down on the toilet.
Armitage wants to ask why he’s brought him there and why he doesn’t hate him like the others do and is that washcloth even clean? He doesn’t have a chance to ask anything before Dameron is wiping his face off with the cloth that Armitage is certain isn’t clean.
He closes his eyes and tries not to think about what Dameron is doing. He’s incredibly gentle and Armitage knows he doesn’t deserve that. He should have simply dragged him back to his room and tossed him in. Or just left him on the floor. Or given him a few more kicks. It’s not like he would notice.
“Hey, you’re okay,” Dameron says, speaking softly, and that’s when Armitage realizes he’s shaking. He doesn’t know why and he can’t make it stop and then Dameron is holding his hand. Armitage opens his eyes and wants to ask him what he’s doing, but he also decides it’s rather nice. He can’t remember the last time someone had touched him so gently.
They sit in silence for several moments and Armitage knows he should leave. His injuries are well-deserved and he doesn’t need someone taking care of them, least of all the man who destroyed his life’s work. He tells himself he’s going to pull his hand away and tell him as much and then walk out, but he doesn’t move.
Finally, it’s Dameron who moves away, and Armitage can’t help but wonder if anyone will ever touch him like that again. He doesn’t think so. If the soldiers from earlier are any indication, someone will end up killing him soon.
“I need you to take your shirt off,” Dameron says. He’s standing by the sink and rinsing off the washcloth. Armitage opens his mouth to ask why, but Dameron continues. “So I can see your injuries.”
“That’s not necessary,” Armitage says, but his voice is weak.
“You were hurt pretty bad,” Dameron says, stepping back over to his side. “We gotta make sure it’s nothing too serious.”
“I’ve suffered far worse than this before,” Armitage assures him. “I’ll just return to my room and I’ll be fine in a few days.”
“You’ve had worse than four men beating you?” Dameron sounds shocked and is soon kneeling in front of him. “Look, I don’t know what kind of hell you’ve been through but you’re safe now. And here, we take care of each other. You just have to let us help.”
“It was your people who did this,” Armitage reminds him. He didn’t mean to say that. He doesn’t want to talk about it, so he takes his shirt off, ignoring the pain as he does so. Maybe that will distract Dameron from what he said.
It seems to work. Dameron is looking over his body, his hands lightly touching his shoulders. He feels the washcloth on his back and then he’s being hauled to his feet again. Dameron walks him back into the other room and has him sit down on the bed while he pulls up a chair.
“About the - “
Whatever Dameron is about to say is cut off when the door opens and a woman walks through with the orange and white BB unit trailing. She’s carrying a case, which she sets down on the floor next to Armitage.
“What happened?” the woman asks. Armitage notices her armband. A doctor.
“He was -”
“I tripped down some stairs,” Armitage says before Dameron can finish speaking. “It’s nothing too serious.”
“I believe I’ll make that call,” the doctor says. She opens up her case and gets to work. Within a few minutes, she’s finished and packing her instruments back away. “You’ve got some cracked ribs. That appears to be the worst of it.I’ve got bacta to help with the other injuries and I’ll get you painkillers to help with the pain. I’ll keep the documentation on file in case you wish to make a report about these stairs.”
Clearly, his story wasn’t believable, but he has no intention of telling anyone what really happened. The doctor gives him instructions on how to care for his injuries that Armitage half-listens to and then she’s gone, leaving him alone with the pilot. He wants to leave too, but Dameron is soon back at his side.
Dameron is applying bacta to his cuts and bruises, and Armitage knows he should stop him. He deserves the pain and the Resistance shouldn’t be wasting their bacta on him. Because he likes the softness of Dameron’s touch, he keeps his mouth shut.
“I take it you don’t want me to file a report,” Dameron says as he starts putting bacta on his face.
“It’s not worth it,” Armitage says. He’s not worth it. “I deserve what they did to me. Worse, actually.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s true. You shouldn’t even be doing this, for that matter.”
“Doing what?”
“This.” He finally pushes Dameron’s hand away like he should have done the moment he touched him. “I don’t need you to take care of me.”
The BB unit beeps something, which Poe listens to before he returns his attention back to Armitage. “Apparently, you do need someone to take care of you,” he says.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Armitage doesn’t know why he’s engaging in conversation. He should stand up and walk out, head back to his own room where he can suffer in peace and quiet.
“BB-8 says that you haven’t been taking care of yourself. You missed several appointments with doctors and you haven’t been eating. So like I said. Someone’s got to take care of you.”
Armitage finally moves to stand up but he’s in so much pain he immediately sits back down. The pain’s gotten worse since he’s been sitting on the bed. He tells himself that’s why he starts to cry. It has nothing to do with the way the pilot puts his arm around his shoulder and just sits with him.
He doesn’t know how long he stays like that but his tears have stopped when he finally manages to speak again. “Why are you doing this?”
“Was I supposed to just leave you lying on the floor?” Dameron asks.
“Yes.” Armitage is serious when he says that. He should still be on that floor, lying in his own blood.
“Don’t think like that. No one deserves to suffer.”
Armitage pulls himself away from the pilot and tries once again to stand up. He doesn’t even manage to make it to his feet this time, so he decides to settle for the best he can do and yells, “I deserve it! After everything I’ve done, I should be beaten and locked up! You’re not supposed to be nice to me! Why don’t you hate me like everyone else?”
“I don’t know,” Dameron says with a shrug. “Yeah, you’ve done some really terrible things but you’re on our side now. You’re helping us defeat the First Order. We really couldn’t do it without you. It might not make up for what you’ve done, but you’re trying. That’s worth something.”
“You’re the only one who thinks so.” He still wants to leave but he’s also glad to have someone who doesn’t completely hate him. Not that he deserves it. He doesn’t try to get up again.
“No, I’m not. There’s plenty of us who are grateful for what you’ve done since joining us. I know it’s late, but I hope you’ll give me a chance to show you that people do care about you.”
Before Armitage can ask what he means, Dameron’s moving to sit slightly behind him and then puts his arm around his shoulder and pulls him back so he’s resting on the pilot’s chest. Armitage doesn’t try to move away.
He finds himself crying again, overwhelmed by the kindness. It’s nice, he decides. Even if Dameron doesn’t mean it, Armitage doesn’t mind. He’s never even had someone pretend to be so nice to him.
Dameron is talking, but Armitage isn’t really listening. He’s simply enjoying the sound of his voice as he starts to drift off, pressed up against his chest. Maybe joining the Resistance wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
Hux as a general keeps a logbook and sometimes he has to rewrite the record several times, because "...Today the Resitance squadron under the leadership of Commander Poe Dameron made a raid on a transport ship of the First Order despite the promise he gave me last night... oh, I mean, kriff- cancel the record, CANCEL THE RECORD"
poe and turned resistance!hux adopting a child that was orphaned during the war
(i meant to get this out yesterday but work kicked my ass... better late than never right?)
“What is it Dameron? I was in the middle of an important strategy meeting.”
Poe fought not to roll his eyes as Hux swept into the base hanger. He had thought Hux finally deciding to defect to the Resistance would have humbled his ego somewhat, but the fact that his military expertise and inside information to the First Order was desperately needed only served to inflate it further, Still, Poe felt slightly smug that Hux had responded to his comm in less than thirty minutes.
“Good to see you too, Armitage,”
Hux on the other hand rolled his eyes in a dramatic and exaggerated fashion.
“I just saw you three hours ago. Now, what was it that couldn’t wait until tonight?”
Poe directed his gaze to the small crowd of children currently surrounding BB-8 on the opposite side of the hanger. The children were squealing in delight as the droid entertained them by repeatedly removing and reattaching his head in increasingly ridiculous ways,
“FInn and Rose brought them in earlier today. They were slaves on Canto Bight and they had nowhere to go once our troops liberated the planet.”
Hux eyed the group with a wary expression, “That’s very... kind of them. But I don’t see why that required my immediate presence.”
“Do you see that girl there?”
Poe discreetly placed one hand on the small of Hux’s back and gestured with the other to a small girl standing slightly apart from the rest of the group. She looked anxious and was clutching a tattered doll to her chest. She has bright red hair, not unlike Hux’s own. Hux merely nodded so Poe continued.
“She hardly speaks any basic, but we managed to find out that she’s Arkanian.”
Poe felt Hux stiffen against his hand, clearly understanding what Poe was getting at.
“So, you need me too...?”
“Just make sure she’s alright, that she knows she’s safe and we’re here to help.”
Hux nodded again, “Yes, I suppose I can do that.”
“Thanks babe.” Poe rubbed his back a little and then not so subtly shoved him forward.
Hux shot him an irritated look but headed towards the children with the same purposeful stride he used when he was preparing to reprimand an unruly soldier. When he got close however, his posture softened and he knelt down to talk to the girl on her level. Poe couldn’t imagine what Hux was saying to her, but his heart clenched as he watched the little girl give Hux as shy smile, then hold out the doll for Hux to examine. Hux said something else and the girl actually laughed.
“Well that is... surprising,” Finn said coming up behind Poe, his dark eyebrows arching up to his hairline, “Be careful Poe, or he might just get attached to her.”
Poe turned to his friend, a sly smile playing across his lips.
