6

                                    

                                          
Visibly shaken, Rey barricaded herself in her tent until the anxiety lessened to a mild rate. She pushed herself off the floor, combed her hair back, sucked in a gulp of breath, and willed herself to step out of her tent. At the end of ten counts, she thrusted her way out. Knowing what she had to do. She knew the truth. She knew her strength, and the power she held within the tips of her fingers. 
Passing by the multitudes, even the sound of Finn's voice calling her name, Rey searched directly for one individual: Commander D'Acy. When Rey finally found her—unprepared for any visitors in her private ship, that had become more of a shelter than a vehicle—Rey laid out the scheme. "I agree to train the force-sensitives."
                          
"Oh," D'Acy stammered, "really?"
"Really." Rey concluded, catching herself staring at D'Acy's frizzy, unkept hair. She recovered awkwardly. "That's. . . all I wanted to say. . . Sorry if I'm a little unexpected. I just had to get it off my chest."
"Well," D'Acy smoothened her hair into a bun, which aided the messiness, "that's terrific, Rey. I'm proud of your choice."
Rey nodded curtly, having the involuntary urge to smoothen her own hair out. "Perfect. I can start today. Whenever you like. I have nothing else to do." 
"Today, oh that's great. I just have to run it by--"
"Don't mention it. Do what you need to do, and inform me of the time. Morning, afternoon, night; I'm fine with any of them."
                          
Rey exited Commander D'Acy's dilapidated starfighter without any other words. She had said her peace, and quite frankly, she was happy with that choice. Training padawans was her best bet at keeping the vivid contemplations elsewhere. Otherwise, nothing could withdraw her torment. 
"There you are." Finn said suddenly, walking up to Rey in the bustling jungle. A pleasant smile on his face. "How are you feeling?"
                          
"Good." She replied. It was far off from accuracy. Finn sensed it. Somehow he always could. He lowered his eyes.  "Come on," Finn pushed, "there's something wrong. You're not you. Not the Rey I know."
Rey's expression twisted into a look of chagrin. She felt that somehow Finn was infiltrating her thoughts, breaking into the deposit of secrecy. She could easily fool everyone--even herself at times, but Finn, he was invincible. He always knew. 
                          
"Finn, how do you expect me to act? I've been through a lot. . . I--I died, remember?"
Finn nodded, unfazed but empathetic. "I do, and I don't expect you to act any kind of way. All I want is to help you, because of all you've been through."
Rey shook her head. Emotions forming a bubble deep within her chest. "I can manage on my own. You know I'm strong."
"Everyone has a breaking point." 
"Why don't you ask the others? Poe, Rose--I'm sure they need help, too." Rey questioned. 
"I have," Finn nodded, "but, Rey, you're my closet friend."
Rey reached out, laid a hand on his shoulder, and exhaled calmly. "I appreciate it, Finn. But don't wear yourself out worrying for me."
                          
Finn silently nodded, shifting his weight anxiously. He looked up to meet her eyes. His own were swimming with something. Something tentative. Rey lowered her gaze. "What else is it that you need to tell me?"
Finn drew in a long inhalation. "Do you remember what I was meaning to tell you when we got trapped inside those sand caves?"
Rey nodded, searching his apprehensive expression. "Yes, what were you going to tell me?"
Finn blew out a breath, floundering with words as if he had forgotten how to speak. "I--I'm force sensitive, Rey. I always tried to tell you, ever since I found out. I just--I don't know why I even kept it from you. It's stupid, I know."
                          
Rey's chuckle became a full blown laugh. Her arms thrusted themselves onto Finn's back, pulling him into her. He was taken aback at the glee of Rey's demeanor. 
Rey pulled away, looking into his eyes. A goofy smile on her face. A genuine one, despite the devastation she had felt all too much lately. "Finn, how come you never told me sooner?"
"I didn't think I was force-sensitive. I didn't really know who I was. Not until I met you. . . I started noticing similarities in you that I felt in me. Then I started having these revelations, these weird intuitive feelings that I could decipher, that would always come true." Finn laughed, relieving the fear he was full of only moments ago.  "It's fate, I guess."