I'll Come Back for You

Poe was being taken off-world to another ship, maybe the First Order's base. He couldn't be sure, as he kept falling in and out of consciousness after receiving another beating. His brain felt clouded and swollen.

By the time they’d reached their destination, Poe could hardly keep his head up. He could feel a warm, sticky spot on his forehead and knew that if he could reach up to touch it, his fingers would come away covered in blood.

It took six guards to haul him into what Poe assumed was the interrogation room. The minute they walked him off the shuttle, he fought hard, railing against anyone and anything that came close to him. If he was going to make it out, this was his best chance.

And then they stunned him, dragged him to his feet, and marched him down a sterile-looking hallway.
The Stormtroopers would "interrogate" him some more, but he was beginning to think he wouldn’t last much longer.

It wouldn't be his first time getting roughed up for some intel—he proudly boasted several scars, one among them a thick line that cut across his chest from the last time he was captured by some scoundrels looking for trade route information he didn't have. They'd snuck up on him when he'd stopped on Naboo to refuel. He'd escaped once he discreetly pulled a dagger out of his boot—the pirates hadn't been smart enough to shake him down before they started beating the shit out of him.

When he returned home from that assignment, Isla had greeted him with raised eyebrows and begun to tease him. She’d tired herself out for at least a year trying to get him to carry a knife on him.

“Sometimes you just can’t get to your gun,” she had said. Isla had an interesting background, to say the least. She'd been the one to teach him hand-to-hand combat, and she’d never let him forget it.

---

"Dameron!" Snap barked at him as he passed by the mess hall. "You have to see this."
Poe looked down at his tray—some mess of mystery stew and a stale hunk of bread—and back at Snap. He'd just come back from a fuel raid and was beat. It'd been his fourth assignment in two weeks; he'd hardly had the chance for a hot meal and regardless of its aesthetic appeal, he was dying to devour whatever was on his tray.
"What is it?" He knew he sounded irritated, but he couldn't help it. Poe just wanted to eat this food and go to sleep.
"One of these new recruits," Snap said smiling wryly. "She's kicking everyone's ass in the training center."
By training center, of course, Snap meant the makeshift gym that the Resistance had cobbled together to train its ground forces and to keep its members in shape. Poe took to the bags a couple nights a week if he could—late at night though, so he could be alone. He liked it better that way. Alone so he could think, work out his frustration.
It took a little more convincing on Snap’s part, but he finally convinced Poe to “have some fun.”
Because flying an X-Wing almost 24/7 wasn’t fun enough.
Oh what the hell, Poe thought. He set his tray down, crossing his fingers that he'd come back to find it still in the same place, albeit cold and probably a little stiff if he found it at all.
He followed Snap to the training center, his interest in what was happening admittedly growing. Stuff like this happened occasionally amongst the more seasoned officers, but it rarely happened with anyone new. And if it had Snap's attention, it had to be good.
And then he saw the long, blond ponytail fluttering through a sea of people. He placed it instantly; a few weeks ago, he'd seen a young woman arrive with a small, rag-tag bunch of recruits. Poe remembered thinking how beautiful she looked—kind of rough, but beautiful. Her body looked like a mess of sharp angels, but her skin was milky white and her hair was the color of the sun on a spring day. It was long, curling into thick waves near her shoulders. She'd looked fiercely determined that afternoon and had hardly given him a second glance when he'd offered a friendly smile. She responded with the briefest of curt nods and went on her way.
As the pilots approached the bags, he could see the flurry of a few strong, well-placed jabs, a quick roundhouse kick, and then a full-grown man on the ground in a headlock. He chuckled to himself. It was one of the pilots in his squadron—a big, beefy guy who quite frequently referred to himself in the third-person. Leon gave the woman some grief, but she shrugged it off. Poe had to hand it to her—shutting down Leon in five moves or less was no easy feat.
"Give it a go!" Someone suddenly shoved him lightly toward the mat. It was a fellow pilot—and friend—of his. Poe shook his head.
“I’ll pass,” he shouted.
The young woman looked at him, sighing heavily with some relief. Poe could see it in her eyes—she just wanted to be left alone. But he could also see a swell of pride in her posture. She hadn't asked for it, but she'd gone through at least six men, maybe a few women, and had left them on their backs, surrendering hands in the air.
"C'mon, Black Leader." Karé Kun, another pilot, dared him. "Not afraid of getting beat up by a woman, are you?"
Poe rolled his eyes. He blamed Snap for getting him into this. The woman looked like she was just trying to get catch her breath. He didn't think there was a square inch of dry fabric on her gray tank top.
Finally someone, probably Snap, gave him another shove. She reluctantly squared off her shoulders and crouched slightly. He could see her eyes more closely now, a brilliant, earthy green. There was a constellation of light brown freckles across her nose and cheeks…
And then he was on the ground, the wind completely knocked out of him.
As he inhaled sharply, Poe couldn't help but notice the woman rested her arms across his chest for a moment, catching her breath too.
He grinned at her, unable to keep from chuckling. Good thing she wasn't working for the enemy.
"What can I say," she said, her voice, despite being a little uneven, betrayed no emotion. The first words he'd ever heard her speak. "I'm good with my hands."
She helped him up, turned toward the door, and walked out. He couldn't hear the friendly jeering around him; he was mesmerized by the way her ponytail danced behind her as she swiftly took her leave.

---

It wasn't the first time a pretty girl had caught him off guard, but it would certainly be the last—that is, at least until he held his newborn baby girl in his arms for the first time.

Though it made him wince, he couldn't help but smile at the memory.

Whatever skills she’d taught him over the years were not going to help him here though. This was the First Order, not some assorted group of bandits. The longer they let him hang there, the more likely he thought about dying.

***

The guards spent about an hour beating the life out of Poe. They'd left him in a pulp, but had not had any luck retrieving information. He was positive that his nose was broken and he wagered that he might have a cracked rib or two. His brown eyes were swollen past the point of recognition and the irony taste of the blood streaming from his nose and his lips burnt his throat as he swallowed it. He felt nauseous.

And a little angry.

This could not be his ending. He’d just passed his thirty-sixth year—he hadn’t spent enough of his life with Isla and Ada.

Poe’s vision blurred briefly and he felt his stomach roll uncontrollably. Vomit spewed from his mouth—mostly blood and bile.

What if this really was how he was going to go out—a broken, helpless mess?

He and Isla had talked about this many times before—you didn’t work for the Resistance without having some plan of action in the event of your death. She had said she wouldn’t leave the Resistance and made him promise not to walk away from it either; it would have all been for nothing. But he knew she wouldn’t move on. Isla was stubborn like that. Surely Snap would step in a little if he could, Poe thought now, to help with Ada—to teach her how to fly.

Chest beginning to tighten, Poe shook these thoughts out of his head.

If he died tonight, at least he knew that both of his girls would know that he loved them more than life itself.

***

As Poe fought to hold his body up against his restraints, he could feel something darker coming his way.

Kylo Ren entered the room swiftly, his black cape sweeping across the floor.

Ren made some quip about having the best pilot in the galaxy in his presence, or something or other—Poe could hardly listen. And then it struck him.

Poe felt the full weight of the Force and it hurt like hell. His body shook as he tried to block out the painful intrusion. He felt Ren sift through his brain, picking apart any memories that were easily available on the surface. He saw Poe's beautiful Isla, their little blackbird Ada with her curly mop of hair and big brown eyes. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he felt Ren pause on these thoughts.

"Such a beautiful family," he murmured mechanically. "How tragic it would be if we got to them before you gave up the location of the map."

"You won't find them." He groaned in agony as Ren dug deeper, wringing his mind out for information. It just needed to stop.

"I wouldn't be so sure." Ren was so close that Poe could almost feel the coolness of the metal against his nose. He stared into the empty eyes of his mask. "You gave them up so easily, you could do just the same for the location of the base."

Poe fought, flooding his thoughts with insignificant memories that wouldn't betray Resistance information—the home he grew up in, random flashes of his childhood, the flight academy, flying for the New Republic. But Ren was much stronger than he was and Poe felt his resolve slipping—any moment now and he would begin begging for his life.

"Enough, dammit!" Ren roared. "Where is the map?"

Before he could stop himself, Poe cried out in anguish. His mind—his body—couldn't take it any longer. Ren's anger had sent a wave of pain through him that made him feel as if every bone in his body, down to his toes, had been shattered.

***

As Poe was marched toward a holding cell, he felt his legs give out once or twice. He was weak; they'd get everything they wanted out of him if they kept at it. Shame crept into his system. They'd get him to betray everyone and he would never again hear Isla say, “I told you that you’re only human” because he was quite certain that Kylo Ren was going to kill him.

The Stormtrooper led him down the hallway; Poe assumed it was either to a cell or to be disposed of. Suddenly, he was pushed into a crevice. Poe was convinced he'd heard the trooper incorrectly because he had offered to help Poe escape.

"Can you fly a TIE fighter?" he asked.

"I can fly anything," Poe responded, feeling almost immediately reinvigorated. He felt his fight or flight responses kicking in. If this was a set-up, he was willing to take the risk; Commander Poe Dameron was going to do absolutely everything in his power to get home.

"We're gonna do this."

***

The rogue Stormtrooper marched him to the hangar, past other troopers and higher-ranking officers. Then they ducked into a gleaming TIE fighter. When he started it up, the scream of the twin engines was absolutely exhilarating. He'd always dreamt of flying one of these someday—under different circumstances, of course.

After a few attempts, the cable docking the sleek starfighter ripped off, just as shots began to ring out.

He thought of his little blackbird, who knew the name of every type of aircraft before she really new her ABC's; Ada would be tickled to see him flying this. Poe imagined her clasping her tiny hands together, her brown eyes wide and small lips parted slightly in awe.

Gods, he hoped this trooper could shoot.

And thankfully he could.

After a quick blow to the enemy, excited introductions were finally made.

The trooper had said his name was FN-2187. Poe wanted to say, fuck that First Order bullshit. But instead he simply said he was going to call him Finn. Finn found the new name agreeable enough and shouted.

"Good to meet you, Poe!"

"Good to meet you too, Finn."

Cannons aimed at right at their TIE fighter but he outflew them all, letting Finn handle the others closing in around them.

The two men argued briefly about their destination. Despite it all, Poe knew that he had to get back to Jakku to find BB-8. After that, he could return to base. Poe was confident that General Organa could find a use for information from Finn, maybe make him an official soldier.

Just as soon as his mind had formed a plan for contacting the Resistance, Poe began to lose his handle on the fighter.

They'd been struck and were currently careening into Jakku's atmosphere.