Chapter Text
Cursed
The first night after returning from Chandrila is both wonderful and terrible—as so many things after the war seem to be. You are so glad to be gone from that place, with its duplicitous politicians all vying for constant favor, and to be back in your own tiny quarters on Ajan Kloss, that you almost dance around the room. Your bed, your clothes, your precious few mementos are all where they belong, ready to enjoy again; the old pillows and threadbare blanket are on the lumpy bed, still needing to be replaced. The tiny kitchen on base will prove difficult for eating as well as you did in the lavish apartment you shared, and you'll definitely miss the luxurious fresher, but still: this is your home. Hot, wet, and full of bugs, but home.
The bed is smaller, and for the first time in weeks you have it all to yourself. Which is when it all falls apart and you realize maybe being back is not everything you'd expected. Until Chandrila, you enjoyed the quiet solitude of having your own quarters, living alone after bunking with a squadron your entire life. Yet after a month of sharing a luxury penthouse suite with Poe, the silence is almost smothering. You're not sure what to do, and having the bed to yourself is all good until you roll over and no one is there—no warm body, no smiling face surrounded by a halo of rumpled hair. Waking up alone feels…well, lonely.
Still, you tell yourself it's something you have to get used to again; the first few days of living with Poe required some getting used to as well. He's a great leader, an even better lover, but as a roommate he can leave some things to be desired. Then again, your quirks probably bothered Poe as much as his drove you mad, but it was still good. You wonder what it would be like to live together as Poe and Finn on Ajan Kloss, rather than as heroes of the Resistance on Chandrila, constantly wearing a mask. You wonder why you haven't talked about it.
A stiffness fills your bones, particularly in your left arm, and your head feels heavy, as if you didn't sleep at all. Rubbing at your arm, you smile at the simple bracelet wrapped around your wrist. It had been a parting gift from a young girl in the street, pressed into your hand by tiny fingers and smiling eyes. Its imperfections, crafted with love and given with innocence, make it all the more perfect. You leave it on, dress quickly, and hurry out the door.
You skip breakfast and find there are not many others at the command center yet, so you start some caf in the maker Connix had installed after a particularly grueling all-nighter. Poe arrives not long after, smiling and looking much better than you feel. You wonder how he is doing, how he slept on his first night back on his own. Why you didn't spend it together. Seeing him again, you regret that you both had to sleep alone after spending the last month in a large bed in a posh hotel. Why hadn't you invited him back with you? Why hadn't he invited you back with him? Why had a night apart seemed like a good idea? You will have to remedy that tonight, no matter how small and lumpy the beds here are.
Poe seems glad to see you, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling against your ear. It's only been a day—one night, really—and you find you missed that. So, you turn and kiss him and you're enjoying a long, leisurely make-out when a flash of vision bursts across your closed eyelids: Poe, consumed by dark fire as you choke the life from his body.
You gasp and step back, shaking it from your memory. The headache pounds at your temples and you rub your arm, as if expecting it to burst into flames. Poe is frowning at you, looking concerned. "Everything all right?" he asks.
"Yeah," you reply, though you're not exactly sure why you feel so out of sorts. "Feeling a bit off this morning, I guess."
Poe nods slowly. "Sleep okay, on your own?"
"Sort of?" you reply. "It was different. Quiet. Takes some getting used to, I suppose." You smile, trying to reassure him that all is well. You turn back to the caf and pour him a cup, then make another for yourself.
"Miss it?"
"The hotel, yes. The bed, the food—absolutely." You take a sip, savoring the rich taste of the dark roast; Chandrilan caf was the one thing that had lacked, it had been muddy water compared to whatever Connix imports. You wonder if Poe is actually talking about the hotel, or something else, not sure if you should admit how much you missed him. "But the rest of Hannah City? Not as much. Too underhanded and political."
"No," Poe agrees, shaking his head ruefully. "I don't miss the city either. But that hotel. You know we—"
"Don't say it," you tell him, holding up a hand.
"We should have tried it out. Could've been interesting." Poe grins, but you know he is having you on. There's no way you'd both fit in any sort of bathtub, let alone snuggle in one. It had been a running joke the entire time.
Smiling to yourself, you head over to your work area, ready to start the day. There's a twinge in your neck and you twist your head, eliciting a loud and uncomfortable crack. The headache flares and you squint, the lights suddenly too bright. You wait it out, hoping another cup of caf and some food will help you settle.
Only it doesn't. Lunch is unappetizing, and by the time you've had half, you're done and feel nauseous. You are unexpectedly tired and half wonder if returning to Ajan Kloss has given you some sort of illness, or if you picked up something on Chandrila. Or maybe it is simply the letdown, the crash after spending a month away doing nothing but talk and negotiate.
You struggle to stay awake, to work, to even move. Maybe it's the flu; maybe it's an alien flu. You feel hot and head down to the coolest, quietest part of the cave you can find. You know you should see Kalonia, especially if you've been exposed to something, but you put your head down and fall asleep in a small niche almost instantly.
A stabbing pain in your left arm awakens you, jolting you from another nightmare vision, this time of Rey. Of a voice that isn't hers, of golden eyes piercing your soul. And most of all, of paralyzing fear, the same terror you now feel. Something is wrong.
You need to see Kalonia, you shouldn't have put it off. Staggering out of the cave, you feel something inside you, something dark and heavy and evil trying to drag you under the water of conscious thought. You fight it, resist it, but it pushes and pulls and claws at your mind until your head feels ready to burst. You can barely stand upright but stumble into the sunlight, crying out in pain, shouting for help— for Poe, for Rey, for anyone.
But they are too late. You curl in upon yourself as the malevolent thing takes over your body first, your arm erupting in agony and fire. The skin bubbles and burns, twisting and turning unnaturally as purple fire works its way up from your wrist. From the harmless gift a child had given you on the street before you'd left. Cursed.
"No," you whisper, your voice barely your own. You can feel it being taken away, feel something inside forcing its will on you, pushing you deeper and deeper into the water. "No!" You shout it this time, your other hand ripping at the bracelet, fingernails tearing the rope and then the burning skin of your forearm until it bleeds. You beat and scratch and pull at it, shouting incoherently through the pain. You resist it with all of your being.
And then Rey is there, hands on your shoulders, lips moving though you can't hear her through your own screams. Poe is with her, and Rose and the others, and suddenly you feel something else, a fresh agony where your fingers are now blackened flesh. They reach up toward Rey, wrapping around her throat with a vice grip you cannot control, that she cannot break for all her strength.
The look on her face is one of surprise, and panic, and horror. All you can see and hear and feel is heartbreak, literally and figuratively. Rey is dying at your own hand. The thing inside you is taking over, laughing at you from inside your own head. It will begin its revenge here at the heart of the Resistance, with the power of the Dark Side as its weapon. It will destroy everything and everyone you hold dear, and you will be its vessel.
No, you scream inside your mind. You will not let it win. For Rey, and Poe, the entire Resistance, and especially for the galaxy. You will not be their death and downfall. You will stop it. You hold it back by sheer determination, filling your mind with images of victory and defeat, of every time the light defeated the dark. Of the people you love. Poe. Rey. You refuse, you resist.
It laughs at you again and squeezes harder.
"Cut it off," you gasp, your throat burning with pain as it tries to hold back your words. Poe stares at you, but you know it's the only choice. "Do it!" you shriek as it twists your mind and you fight the impulse to reach out and kill him as well. You will not be the death of your friends and family. You resist.
"Please," you beg, and Poe nods. He reaches for Rey's lightsaber. The thing inside you turns on him, forcing him back with a snarl from your own lips. He lunges forward anyway, and you can hear him repeating terrified apologies under his breath. Your hand tightens around Rey's throat, and her eyes roll back in her head, before an excruciating, scorching pain worse than any yet consumes you as Poe slices the yellow blade through the air. He shouts and sobs and something horrible falls to the floor, the scent of burning flesh thick in the air.
Then Kalonia is behind you and there is a prick in your neck that is the most heavenly pain you've ever felt, because you know what it is: release. "Thank you," you whisper as you collapse into the remains of your life. You do not know if it is death that is taking you, or merely sleep, but you are grateful. Poe has stopped the thing inside you by cutting it off and Rey will survive. The Dark Side will not win this time, and if you must pay the ultimate price to stop it, then you are more than willing because you have saved the others. Poe is holding you, and there is no other way you would want to finish your journey.
"Thank you."
And then there is only darkness, but this time you do not resist.
The first night after returning from Chandrila is both wonderful and terrible—as so many things after the war seem to be. You are glad to be gone from that place, back on Ajan Kloss, yet you did not expect it to be so hard.
You do not miss the simpering servants and politicians, constantly currying favor, but you miss having a place of your own, almost like a home, someplace safe and reliable where you could retreat to after work and relax. You miss almost having a normal life, one that didn't involve living in the jungle, fighting a years-long battle. And you miss Finn more than anything.
Still, it was one night alone. You've spent the last month together, sharing everything, so one night apart won't kill you. If it was too cold in your bunk, then maybe you need to get more blankets for nights spent on your own. And if it was lonely, well…you will see Finn at the command center. You are not some lovesick teenager who can't live a few hours without your crush.
When you walk into the command center and see Finn, you realize you are totally a lovesick teenager, but at that moment, you don't care. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his ear and are so glad he's there and with you that you forget the long, lonely night.
Finn seems happy to see you as well, and you enjoy a leisurely kiss, wishing you could wake up like this every day. And then Finn steps back, as if he's had an electric shock, and things go downhill from there. He says he's just getting used to being back, and you understand that, but he seems unwell. He does not eat much at lunch and moves slower and slower, looks more and more tired, until he disappears somewhere into the cave. You are about to check on him when there is a holo-comm from Chandrila, and you're stuck listening to them drone on and on even though you spent an entire month hammering out the details of a dozen treaties.
Before the conversation can go far, there is shouting from the cave. You hang up with a terse apology and run from the ship to find Finn screaming on the ground, clutching his wrist as he shouts for help. His arm is on fire, purple flames burning his skin.
No. You shake your head, refusing to accept the horror before you, refusing to believe it's possible, but Finn's left arm is black and charred, a horrific mess. What is it? How could this happen? You sprint over to him with Rey, babbling words of—what? Strength? Encouragement? Love? He has to fight it, you tell him to fight it, that you will do anything, everything, to help him, to stop what's happening to him, to—
Finn's hand grasps Rey's neck with supernatural strength from whatever is happening to him. Some kind of Force curse, you suspect, a distant memory trying to surface, ghost stories told in the dark. You can't move his arm, his fingers; it (not Finn, never Finn) is too strong. Rey is dying.
"Cut it off!" Finn gasps, doubling over in pain. No one moves. You try to say something to Finn, tell him to hold on and fight, but nothing comes out, and he is clearly battling the demon inside him. "Do it!" he shouts, the pain in his voice lancing through you and worse than anything you've ever heard or felt. He is tearing at a bracelet on his wrist, a gift from a child on Chandrila. "Please."
The sound of Finn begging for his life is a knife stabbing you in the heart. You reach for Rey's lightsaber, hanging at her side. Finn growls and hisses at you, the monster within him fighting back hard. You grab the weapon, determined to save him, and with a sob of apology, you slice through skin and bone. The horrific sizzling sound of complete cauterization is one you will never forget.
"Thank you," Finn whispers. Kalonia is there, pressing a hypospray to his neck. Rey collapses as Finn falls beside her. You kneel beside them both, pulling Finn onto your lap as Kalonia checks Rey's pulse and nods.
"Rey's all right, buddy," you tell him. "And so are you. You're gonna be okay." Which is a damn lie, because you've cut off his left hand.
Finn's eyes close and his breathing slows. "Thank you," he whispers again. You bow your head as tears fall onto his face, but Kalonia will not let you have your moment of peace.
"Get them inside," the doctor orders. Chewbacca is there and lifts Finn like he's a doll. You grab Rey, her lightsaber still in your hands, and hurry inside, taking them both to the medical area.
Rey is breathing, but still unconscious, the marks on her throat ugly and red. Finn is breathing as well, his heart is beating, but he does not look strong. Kalonia does something to stabilize him and starts hooking up another drip; her hands are steady. Yours are still shaking.
"Rose," you finally manage, your voice weak. "Check the…his hand. The bracelet. Make sure no one touches it."
Jess is beside him, steadying him. "As if chopping off his arm wasn't enough, now we have to worry about it haunting us?"
"We don't know what it was," you reply wearily. "Some kind of Force curse. I just want to be sure."
"It's still moving!" Rose shouts over the comms.
"Blow it to hell!" you shout back, and seconds later three blaster shots blow it apart. Finn jerks and seizes and flat lines, but before Kalonia can even step forward to start reviving him, he gasps and opens his eyes. They are filled with pain, but they are clear, they are his.
You run an unsteady hand along his face, lean over to kiss his forehead. "It's over," you tell him, and you will make sure. Kalonia will run every test possible and you will go to the ends of the galaxy to find who's done this to him. "You're alive, and you're going to be all right."
Finn can't talk due to the oxygen mask over his face, but his eyes are wide and filled with fear. "Rose blew it up," you reassure him. "The bracelet is gone, I promise. You have to keep fighting, though, all right, Finn? Stay with us, with me."
Finn nods, then he reaches up with his right hand to briefly take off the mask. "As long as I don't have to sleep alone," he says. "Too quiet." You can't help it: you burst out laughing, tears streaming down your cheeks.
"I didn't like it either, so I'll take you up on that," you tell him, and he nods, and puts the mask back on, and closes his eyes. You panic, but his hand comes up and moves the mask again.
"I'm tired, not dead," he says.
"Any pain?" asks Kalonia. There are so many drips hooked up behind him that it's a wonder if Finn can feel anything. But you know that there will be pain, from what he's been through. The pain of losing a limb, of a life irreversibly changed.
"I lost my hand," Finn says, his words starting to slur. "I can't feel a thing." His eyes flip open, suddenly panicked. "I'm sorry," he says, voice breaking. "I'm sorry you had to—to—and now I'm—" He screws his eyes shut, his mouth pressed into a hard line as tears fall from the corner of his eyes.
You lean down once more. "I'm sorry I had to do it," you say, your voice calmer than you feel. You are still terrified you will lose him, but he needs your strength now. "But I had to save you. I'm not about to lose you now. Not after finally finding you. I want to wake up next to you again."
A ghost of a smile plays at Finn's lips. "Thank you," he says again. "For doing it. I don't want to lose you either. Not knowing how you look in the morning." He pauses. "Which is a complete disaster, by the way."
Kalonia snorts. "I knew it," she says, and you cry harder, leaning over to kiss him.
"You're not losing me," you tell him. "We'll get through this."
"I'll hold you to it," Finn murmurs, and this time you sense he is really about to sleep. "With my other hand, that is."
And that's when you know it will be all right. It will be hard and painful and there will be days when the guilt threatens to destroy you both. But Finn is the strongest man you know and he will not only survive, he will beat any obstacle, any challenge. And you will be there to support him every step of the way.
"Get some rest," you murmur with one last kiss, and Finn smiles as he slips into sleep. Kalonia tells you to sit down, or check on Rose, or start cleaning up the mess, anything to get out from under her feet. You nod and sit down on a chair nearby. You lean against the wall and watch her work, thinking not of the horrors you just experienced, but of the healing to come. Of the life you will build—and rebuild—with Finn, together no matter where you are.