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+ All prompts should focus on TFA characters. You can't post OT or PT-only prompts.
+ One prompt per comment please.
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Holding Patterns
3/3

Poe begins to stir around early evening. Finn, who's been half-dozing in his chair for the past hour or so, is jerked fully awake by the sound of his groans as he struggles weakly against the mountain of blankets covering him. "Wait," Finn says, and for once Poe listens to him, stopping what he's doing and looking up at him blearily. "Wait," he says again, shoving an arm under Poe's shoulders and helping him into a half-seated position against the pillows. He grabs the cup of water from the nightstand. When Poe frowns, he says sternly, "Dr. Kalonia said fluids. She also said to call her if I couldn't get any into you. Should I call her?"

"No," Poe sighs, and lets Finn place the straw carefully between his lips. After a few obedient sips, he leans back against Finn's shoulder and closes his eyes. He's so utterly still that Finn thinks he must have fallen asleep again, so he sets the water down and starts to get up.

"Don't," Poe says in a voice that pinches Finn's heart. His brow creases with the effort of lifting his lashes just a crack. "Stay?"

So Finn stays. He shifts his body so he's more fully on the bed and holds Poe against him. He can feel each shallow breath, each shudder that moves through his frame. It seems stupid to ask Poe how he feels, but he does anyway, partly because he doesn't know what else to say, partly because, with the exception of those two interruptions, it's been so quiet all day, and quiet feels wrong in a place like this. It feels like waiting for an enemy to strike.

"Hmm," Poe mumbles against his shirt. "Like I got stepped on by an AT-AT walker."

"Yeah, you kind of look like you did," Finn tells him, and Poe's lips quirk briefly.

"Sh'not nice. M'sick."

"Oh. So you admit it."

That doesn't elicit a smile. Instead, Poe tilts his head and looks up at him, and those can't be tears, it has to be a trick of the light or the fever, but his eyes seem very bright. "M'sorry about before."

"It's okay," Finn assures him.

"Thanks for not letting me--"

Finn strokes his cheek. "It's okay. I feel like I should tell you, I sewed a tracker into all of your flight suits, so you can't run off on me. Don't worry: I'll only use it in extreme circumstances."

"You were here the whole day." It's not a question, so it doesn't require an answer. But Finn opens his mouth anyway to say Yes, of course, where else did you think I'd be? He's stopped, however, by a commotion out in the corridor: BB-8's loud trilling, and an answering cacophony of beeps and whistles. Poe looks at him in confusion.

"That had better be the soup," Finn says, though he's equally dumbfounded.

"You ordered takeout?"

Finn kisses his forehead, then carefully lays him back down against his pillows so he can get up and find out what is going on.

As soon as he opens the door, BB-8 whirls around and starts jabbering at him in Binary, which of course he can't understand. But it's obvious what has BB-8 so upset: Finn counts seven droids of varying classes and sizes, cramming the corridor outside Poe's door. Each one is carrying a bowl or a pot or a thermos of what appears to be steaming soup.

"Um," says Finn, at a loss.

BB-8 turns back to the other droids and scolds them shrilly.

"Um." Finn scratches at the back of his neck. "The General didn't send all of you, did she?"

The answering clamor is completely unintelligible. "Quiet!" he snaps, raising his hands. "You're not helping. BB-8, tell them. If they don't shut up, they're gonna make him feel worse."

At that, BB-8 lets out a blistering torrent of squeals and clicks, which goes on for at least a minute. By the time he's finished, all of the other droids have fallen silent and moved a step back. For beings without facial expressions - or even faces, really - they seem amazingly chagrined.

BB-8 half-swivels his head to look expectantly up at Finn.

"Okay," he says. "Now. Which one of you did the General actually send?"

After some muffled chatter, a GNK power droid shuffles forward. There's a tray with a covered bowl and a pair of spoons attached by clamps to its head. Finn takes the tray and says, "Thank you. Really," he adds because he feels sort of bad about yelling, when they were only trying to help. "Thank you, all of you. The thing is, I don't know that he really needs this much soup. So maybe some of you can come back later? Or see if anyone else is hungry? C'mon, BB-8. You can come in; he's awake."

BB-8 burbles joyfully as he precedes Finn back into the room, and the door slides shut behind them. He rolls right up to Poe's bedside, chattering rapidly. Curled on his side, his cheek resting on the heel of his palm, Poe listens indulgently, though his eyes occasionally stray to Finn.

When BB-8 finally quiets down, Finn says half-jokingly, "Was he telling you all about his day? How he's so put upon?"

Poe shakes his head. "He says he stood guard, like you told him. He got to talk to General Organa, and Rey and Jess. He thinks some of the other droids are idiots who can't follow simple instructions, but he says you were just great."

"Really?"

"Tell him, BB-8."

BB-8's response is a mystery to Finn, but it makes Poe smile so he decides to accept it, whatever it is.

"I have soup," he says. "It's from the General. I don't think she actually made it herself, but she sent it over, so if you don't eat it, you're disobeying orders. D'you feel up to eating now? I think you should try."

"I don't feel up to anything," Poe says plaintively. "Everything hurts." At BB-8's sorrowful croon, he adds, "But I think I'll live, thanks to you two. I'll eat. I just don't know if…" He tries to push himself up on one elbow, but Finn can see how he's shaking, how even that effort leaves him winded. So Finn sets down the tray and goes to him, climbing back into bed beside him and helping him up with an arm around his shoulders. Poe groans, but BB-8 whistles encouragement and Finn murmurs, "It's okay, it's okay, I got you--"

When he's settled against Finn's chest, his still too-hot forehead like a brand against Finn's neck, Poe snuffles, "M'sorry."

"For what?" Finn asks, rubbing soothing circles into his back. "This morning? I told you--"

"For everything. Me."

He sounds perfectly miserable. So Finn holds him tighter, briefly closing his eyes as he rests his cheek against Poe's messy hair. "You're no picnic, Poe Dameron, I can tell you that. But we'll keep you."

"Yeah?"

"Sure. I mean, you're the best pilot in the galaxy - when you can actually fly. You're kind of ridiculously good-looking, when you're not being all pathetic. Can you think of a better reason?" Poe is silent. Finn opens his eyes and looks around the room; his gaze takes in the General's soup, and BB-8. He thinks about Rey and Jess dropping by earlier to see how they were doing, and about Snap, Bastian, and Nien Nunb teaming up to stop their commander from putting himself in needless danger. He thinks about Dr. Kalonia's kind words, and the droids practically falling over one another in the corridor outside, each of them determined to be of service to Poe. And that's just today.

Finn whispers, "They love you. All of them, even the droids. Every single person - every single being - here loves you." He was going to add, So don't worry so much about being a pain in the ass, which you sometimes are--

But Poe's eyes flutter open and, looking up at Finn, he says, "Everyone?" in such a nakedly hopeful tone, that he can't. He can't make a joke out of it.

"Everyone," he says, and from the way Poe's breath hitches, he knows what Finn is really saying.

"Oh. Me too."

Was he supposed to feel different? Because he doesn't, really. It's not even a relief, having it out there - though he doesn't regret his words. Maybe, he thinks, it's because Poe is feeling ill and vulnerable, so whatever he admits or confesses to shouldn't count. Or maybe it's because, deep down, Finn always knew.

He's so lost in thought and Poe's next words are pitched so low that he almost misses them: "You know there's no one else, right?"

Now Finn needs a moment. Or several. He buries his face in Poe's hair while the sound of his own heartbeat fills his ears, momentarily drowning Poe's rasping breaths. "No more talking," he says finally, when he can lift his head. "You're gonna lose your voice, and then you'll really be useless. Wait until you're better. We'll talk about it then, okay?"

Poe nods.

Finn kisses him. Then he adds, because he doesn't want to leave Poe with any doubts - on the off-chance that he has any - "Me too."

Poe opens his mouth - then shuts it again when Finn looks at him warningly. And really, Finn thinks, is there anything to say? This isn't scary. Jess was right. Oh, she and Rey are going to say 'I told you so.' But if nothing actually changes… If nothing changes, have they actually broken out of their holding pattern? Were they ever really in one? Does it matter?

He's aware of Poe's glazed eyes, watching him with weary curiosity. Finn kisses him again, then turns to reach for the General's soup, which smells good, and which he hopes is still hot. As he does, his gaze meets BB-8's. The little lighter pops out, and this time Finn knows what it means.

This was so perfect, anon! Ahhh, my heart <3 And I loved the crowd of soup-bearing droids being shouted down by bouncer BB-8.

ALL the droids love Poe. But he belongs to BB-8. Fortunately, BB-8 is willing to share him with Finn. *g* Thank you so much!!

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PROMPT POST #5 - CLOSED

This post is closed to new prompts!

FILL: Holding Patterns 3/3 (Finn/Poe & Rey/Jess, sickfic)

Re: FILL: Holding Patterns 3/3 (Finn/Poe & Rey/Jess, sickfic)

Re: FILL: Holding Patterns 3/3 (Finn/Poe & Rey/Jess, sickfic)