Fic: In the Eye, Poe Dameron-Centric. Teen.
Title: In the Eye
Pairings: Minor/background Han Solo/Leia Organa, Temmin Wexley/Harter Kalonia, Rey/Ben Solo.
Character Focus: Poe Dameron
AU?: Yes. Canon Divergence.
Warnings: Discussion of torture, PTSD, seizures.
Summary: There were more than just a few wounds to recover from after the interrogation by Ren for Poe.
ALERT
HR 132 ↟
RR 28 ↟
APV 105 ⍟
“Another seizure?”
“No. A nightmare.” A pause, then, “Get the General.”
They were back hardly before they’d left, it felt, and just in time apparently.
“They’re evacuating,” Luke remarked, “The First Order has found the Resistance,” and tilted his head at Han.
“Yeah, yeah.” The Falcon shuttered through a landing, and Han reminded his friend, “This was not my idea.”
Outside of the ship, Connix was waiting. She didn’t even blink at the sight of Luke as he stepped off the ramp, instead telling them, “We got word at 0815. We evacuated nearly the entire base, but when you comm’d that you were nearing atmo, the General had us hold on moving Commander Dameron.”
“He still in the tank?”
Connix nodded. “Dr. Kalonia said 5 days is standard, but up to 10 is not unheard of,” and, “They’re moving him into a flexpoly suit with synthetic, but it’s not optimal to use for long after being in natural bacta.”
It didn’t take more than a few seconds for Han to parse out what was not being said: Leia had held on evacuating their most critical patient until the Falcon had returned in order to move Dameron onto the ship. Clearly she was expecting to get him to whichever base they were moving to with a minimal amount of delay and jostling.
“The rest of the transports leave already?”
“Most of them,” she replied, gesturing toward the empty patches where the ships once sat, “and the squadrons went with them as protection.”
Luke twitched beside him.
“Let me guess…”
“We don’t have much time, no.”
It was an understatement as the first Imperial cruiser dropped out of lightspeed right as Luke finished speaking, and Han grumbled something under his breath.
This was not how he’d seen this day going.
It wasn’t exactly like they had a choice, however, and as Han all but threw the last remaining members of the Resistance up the ramp, he shook a finger at his wife, reminding Leia, “I didn’t sign on for this.”
“You married me. You signed on for this,” she said in response, taking his hand as they raced in behind Kalonia and Connix.
They made a run through the blockade that really wasn’t much of a blockade: the Millenium Falcon, for all the First Order’s hatred of the ship, easily eluded the legion of TIE fighters waiting for them as they broke atmo, then rocketed into lightspeed seconds before the cruisers could. They came out behind Endor a short time later, dropping to sublight engines in order to give the hyperdrive time to cool and to give the transport team time to check on Dameron.
But nothing could be that easy, and as Han started to rise out of the pilot’s seat, a shrill alarm sounded: Proximity alert.
“Not possible.”
Luke jutted his chin toward the screen in the forward panel. “They’re tracking us.” Sure enough, a cruiser had dropped out of hyperspace to their starboard side.
“Through lightspeed? How?!”
The shrug was infuriating, and Han strapped himself back into his seat with a growl. “You know, I thought when we pulled you off that kriffing island, your mood would improve.”
“Right,” Luke smirked, sliding into the engineer’s seat and pulling the edge of his robes tighter before buckling in securely.
“We’re going to have to skip.”
The wookiee was not pleased by that announcement.
“Those cruisers can’t drop in and out of lightspeed as quickly as we can. There has to be a limit to how far they can track us.”
(The limit was 5 jumps of at least 7 minutes each.
Han made three more just to be sure it wasn’t a ploy by the First Order, then skirted the edge of the systems to Ajan Kloss.)
the resistance will not be intimidated
the resistance will not be intimidated
the resistance will not be intimidated
dameron, poe
best pilot in the resistance
i will not be intimidated
“Where… is it?”
Poe woke screaming, his entire body going taut; he rolled onto his side, trying to escape the hands suddenly grabbing at him. Thankfully, the majority disappeared as quickly as they’d come, only one vaguely familiar hand remaining.
“Easy, Poe, easy,” someone told him, before a finger slid down his forehead, the curve of his nose. It came back again, and again, and slowly the fear and the fight drained from him. His muscles loosened and his vision cleared, and he went cross-eyed as Leia ran her finger over his face once more.
“No,” he wheezed, “force suggestions.”
She gave him a fond smile, watching his eyes close, and agreed, “No force suggestions,” for now.
“How long…”
“Were you out?”
Poe nodded, gently, not wanting to dislodge Leia’s finger: it was the same caress he remembered from childhood, something that soothed him, reminded him of different times, safer times. Though it made him feel ridiculous, he leaned into it as she answered his question.
“Longer than Major Kalonia is pleased about, but she’s informed me your internal bleeding, broken ribs, skin wounds, and bruised organs have all healed.” Leia gave a short sigh. “The neuro injuries are going to take more time.”
He flapped a hand in the air. “Jus’ a concussion… Jus’ need some caf.”
“You won’t be having caf for quite some time and you know it.” Leia pulled her hand back, gripping the edge of the bed with them as she leaned forward and reminded him, “There’s a reason we have a post-interrogation protocol.”
“Woulda grounded me.”
“And clearly that would have been the wrong choice to make when you had a fever of nearly 41°.”
Poe furrowed his brow and Leia could see how he was preparing to argue. Her finger went back to his face, the slow glide from forehead to the tip of his nose, and he calmed again. She made a mental note, casting a thanks to Shara and Kes into the Force for instilling this conditioned response in their son.
(Kes had used it once on Poe when Poe was younger but no less prone to accidents and when Leia remarked, “I’m trying that on Ben one of these days,” Kes had grinned and told her, “Old Yavinian trick, but only good if you start them in the cradle.”)
Still, he grumbled, “Needed me,” despite barely being able to keep his eyes open.
“Yes, we do, but alive, Poe.” She blew out a hard breath, not wanting to think about how terribly close they’d come to a kriffing nightmare scenario where he was two meters down instead.
Much as she hated the moniker, he was the best pilot the Resistance had, charismatic and very nearly reckless. Black Squadron wouldn’t have been half as successful if it wasn’t for him, and thus most of the Resistance’s missions. The connections he’d maintained when he’d stopped running spice (a resistance mission that Leia still regretted sending him on) had helped them out of some hairy spots, including getting them much needed bacta reserves and fresh rations whenever the base ran too low for comfort.
She looked down, glad to see he’d finally drifted off; with help from one of the med techs and from Wexley, who’d been waiting quietly for his turn to sit with Poe, Leia got him rolled onto his back again, a pillow stuffed under his head and one of the warmer blankets tucked around him.
“Make sure someone is with him at all times,” she reminded the other man.
“Yes, General, and,” Snap smirked, “permission to use that trick of yours?”
“Only if he gets disorderly, Temmin.”
“Ma’am, that’s his primary operating protocol.”
Leia couldn’t help the smile that came to her lips. She squeezed his shoulder, saying, “Just don’t let the entirety of the base know. I’d like him to have some dignity left when this is over.”
“I’ll keep it to Black Squadron.”
VITALS STABLE
HR 71 ≈
RR 14 ≈
APV 85 ~
”You and the General have some sort of secret weapon to keep him calm. What is it?”
“I’m not able to disclose, ma’am, General’s orders.”
“Hm. Well then, see to it that whomever else sits with him gets the General’s permission to do whatever it is as well.”
Pairings: Minor/background Han Solo/Leia Organa, Temmin Wexley/Harter Kalonia, Rey/Ben Solo.
Character Focus: Poe Dameron
AU?: Yes. Canon Divergence.
Warnings: Discussion of torture, PTSD, seizures.
Summary: There were more than just a few wounds to recover from after the interrogation by Ren for Poe.
ALERT
HR 132 ↟
RR 28 ↟
APV 105 ⍟
“Another seizure?”
“No. A nightmare.” A pause, then, “Get the General.”
They were back hardly before they’d left, it felt, and just in time apparently.
“They’re evacuating,” Luke remarked, “The First Order has found the Resistance,” and tilted his head at Han.
“Yeah, yeah.” The Falcon shuttered through a landing, and Han reminded his friend, “This was not my idea.”
Outside of the ship, Connix was waiting. She didn’t even blink at the sight of Luke as he stepped off the ramp, instead telling them, “We got word at 0815. We evacuated nearly the entire base, but when you comm’d that you were nearing atmo, the General had us hold on moving Commander Dameron.”
“He still in the tank?”
Connix nodded. “Dr. Kalonia said 5 days is standard, but up to 10 is not unheard of,” and, “They’re moving him into a flexpoly suit with synthetic, but it’s not optimal to use for long after being in natural bacta.”
It didn’t take more than a few seconds for Han to parse out what was not being said: Leia had held on evacuating their most critical patient until the Falcon had returned in order to move Dameron onto the ship. Clearly she was expecting to get him to whichever base they were moving to with a minimal amount of delay and jostling.
“The rest of the transports leave already?”
“Most of them,” she replied, gesturing toward the empty patches where the ships once sat, “and the squadrons went with them as protection.”
Luke twitched beside him.
“Let me guess…”
“We don’t have much time, no.”
It was an understatement as the first Imperial cruiser dropped out of lightspeed right as Luke finished speaking, and Han grumbled something under his breath.
This was not how he’d seen this day going.
It wasn’t exactly like they had a choice, however, and as Han all but threw the last remaining members of the Resistance up the ramp, he shook a finger at his wife, reminding Leia, “I didn’t sign on for this.”
“You married me. You signed on for this,” she said in response, taking his hand as they raced in behind Kalonia and Connix.
They made a run through the blockade that really wasn’t much of a blockade: the Millenium Falcon, for all the First Order’s hatred of the ship, easily eluded the legion of TIE fighters waiting for them as they broke atmo, then rocketed into lightspeed seconds before the cruisers could. They came out behind Endor a short time later, dropping to sublight engines in order to give the hyperdrive time to cool and to give the transport team time to check on Dameron.
But nothing could be that easy, and as Han started to rise out of the pilot’s seat, a shrill alarm sounded: Proximity alert.
“Not possible.”
Luke jutted his chin toward the screen in the forward panel. “They’re tracking us.” Sure enough, a cruiser had dropped out of hyperspace to their starboard side.
“Through lightspeed? How?!”
The shrug was infuriating, and Han strapped himself back into his seat with a growl. “You know, I thought when we pulled you off that kriffing island, your mood would improve.”
“Right,” Luke smirked, sliding into the engineer’s seat and pulling the edge of his robes tighter before buckling in securely.
“We’re going to have to skip.”
The wookiee was not pleased by that announcement.
“Those cruisers can’t drop in and out of lightspeed as quickly as we can. There has to be a limit to how far they can track us.”
(The limit was 5 jumps of at least 7 minutes each.
Han made three more just to be sure it wasn’t a ploy by the First Order, then skirted the edge of the systems to Ajan Kloss.)
the resistance will not be intimidated
the resistance will not be intimidated
the resistance will not be intimidated
dameron, poe
best pilot in the resistance
i will not be intimidated
“Where… is it?”
Poe woke screaming, his entire body going taut; he rolled onto his side, trying to escape the hands suddenly grabbing at him. Thankfully, the majority disappeared as quickly as they’d come, only one vaguely familiar hand remaining.
“Easy, Poe, easy,” someone told him, before a finger slid down his forehead, the curve of his nose. It came back again, and again, and slowly the fear and the fight drained from him. His muscles loosened and his vision cleared, and he went cross-eyed as Leia ran her finger over his face once more.
“No,” he wheezed, “force suggestions.”
She gave him a fond smile, watching his eyes close, and agreed, “No force suggestions,” for now.
“How long…”
“Were you out?”
Poe nodded, gently, not wanting to dislodge Leia’s finger: it was the same caress he remembered from childhood, something that soothed him, reminded him of different times, safer times. Though it made him feel ridiculous, he leaned into it as she answered his question.
“Longer than Major Kalonia is pleased about, but she’s informed me your internal bleeding, broken ribs, skin wounds, and bruised organs have all healed.” Leia gave a short sigh. “The neuro injuries are going to take more time.”
He flapped a hand in the air. “Jus’ a concussion… Jus’ need some caf.”
“You won’t be having caf for quite some time and you know it.” Leia pulled her hand back, gripping the edge of the bed with them as she leaned forward and reminded him, “There’s a reason we have a post-interrogation protocol.”
“Woulda grounded me.”
“And clearly that would have been the wrong choice to make when you had a fever of nearly 41°.”
Poe furrowed his brow and Leia could see how he was preparing to argue. Her finger went back to his face, the slow glide from forehead to the tip of his nose, and he calmed again. She made a mental note, casting a thanks to Shara and Kes into the Force for instilling this conditioned response in their son.
(Kes had used it once on Poe when Poe was younger but no less prone to accidents and when Leia remarked, “I’m trying that on Ben one of these days,” Kes had grinned and told her, “Old Yavinian trick, but only good if you start them in the cradle.”)
Still, he grumbled, “Needed me,” despite barely being able to keep his eyes open.
“Yes, we do, but alive, Poe.” She blew out a hard breath, not wanting to think about how terribly close they’d come to a kriffing nightmare scenario where he was two meters down instead.
Much as she hated the moniker, he was the best pilot the Resistance had, charismatic and very nearly reckless. Black Squadron wouldn’t have been half as successful if it wasn’t for him, and thus most of the Resistance’s missions. The connections he’d maintained when he’d stopped running spice (a resistance mission that Leia still regretted sending him on) had helped them out of some hairy spots, including getting them much needed bacta reserves and fresh rations whenever the base ran too low for comfort.
She looked down, glad to see he’d finally drifted off; with help from one of the med techs and from Wexley, who’d been waiting quietly for his turn to sit with Poe, Leia got him rolled onto his back again, a pillow stuffed under his head and one of the warmer blankets tucked around him.
“Make sure someone is with him at all times,” she reminded the other man.
“Yes, General, and,” Snap smirked, “permission to use that trick of yours?”
“Only if he gets disorderly, Temmin.”
“Ma’am, that’s his primary operating protocol.”
Leia couldn’t help the smile that came to her lips. She squeezed his shoulder, saying, “Just don’t let the entirety of the base know. I’d like him to have some dignity left when this is over.”
“I’ll keep it to Black Squadron.”
VITALS STABLE
HR 71 ≈
RR 14 ≈
APV 85 ~
”You and the General have some sort of secret weapon to keep him calm. What is it?”
“I’m not able to disclose, ma’am, General’s orders.”
“Hm. Well then, see to it that whomever else sits with him gets the General’s permission to do whatever it is as well.”