Chapter Text
“FUCK!” Poe Dameron’s deep voice makes you flinch as it comes through the headset. You yank up on the controls of your X-Wing, doing your best to fly up and over the explosion in front of you. The Tie Fighter didn’t have a chance against your aim, but Poe’s string of expletives make you crane your neck around, trying to find out what he’s yelling about. You finally catch sight of him, swerving in and out of the asteroid field.
He’s on fucking fire, is all you can think as you punch the joystick forward, praying under your breath that you can cover him before his left thruster blows. His stubbornness makes you grit your teeth as he continues shooting at the Fighter he’s following instead of getting the hell out of your way and getting to safety. Someone whoops through the headset and you see another explosion to your right. Pushing it out of your mind, you force your X-Wing forward, grunting under the turbulence as you blast through the asteroid field, almost slamming into his flaming starship.
“Poe, get the fuck out of my way!” You don’t even bother trying to use his call sign, your only focus on covering his ass long enough so he can circle back to the base. From your count, there’s two more Tie Fighters that you and Red-Six can cover on your own.
The ship whines, jolting underneath you, just as you lock on to one of the two Fighters. A few seconds later, it’s being blown apart by your canons. Vaguely, you hear him yelling your name over the coms as you circle around to aid Red-Six. But all too suddenly, right before she lands a shot on the Fighter you’re both aiming at, your X-Wing starts screeching. The system emits a god awful noise as you frantically look around, trying to figure out what’s blown or damaged.
“It’s cleared, head back, now,” his frantic voice bursts through the headset again and the pilots swoop up and out of all the debris, beelining it to the landing pad on the planet below. The joystick jolts in your hands as you try to fly steady, the screeching continuing to echo through the cockpit. You see smoke billowing around you and finally realize the damage is to one of your engines.
By the grace of the Maker, you’re able to roughly land right before it shudders and explodes on the side. Your X-Wing rocks, the blast making your ear drums ring as you’re knocked against the glass. There’s a lot of yelling below you on the ground, but it sounds muffled as the canopy slides open and someone grabs you, throwing you over their shoulder and scrambling down the ladder before your ship get soaked in fire retardant. You groan, immediately thinking of how annoying it will be to clean it tomorrow. Whoever’s holding you slowly sets you down on your feet, supporting you when your knees buckle from the pain that shoots through your head. Blinking your eyes open, you look up at Red-Ten as he towers over you. His lips are moving, but you can’t coherently hear him so you just squint up at him and shake your head. With shaky hands, you reach up and remove your helmet, holding it to your chest as he continues speaking garbled noises.
You jump when a helmet hits the concrete near you and look up with wide eyes to see Poe screaming at Red-Six, pointing towards you. He’s red in the face, chest heaving as he berates the woman. She doesn’t say anything, just crosses her arms over her chest and sways her weight between her feet. As General Organa hastily approaches, pushing through the throng of people now watching, your hearing starts to come back in bits and pieces.
“Black-Leader, you … scream … fellow pilot … way. If … something too … civilized for Maker’s sake… not her fault, nor … Three’s. That Tie … have shot any … out of the sky … it hadn’t … for Red-Six … have made it back … off … high horse and … wife for being smart … cover you,” she jabs Poe in the chest with her finger, “before risking … for … pilots.”
Red-Ten’s large fingers snapping together in front of your face draws you back to the man in front of you and you look up at him once more.
“… Three … hear me?”
Your voice sounds garbled as you try to answer him back, “Y-yeah. Little bit.” He nods sharply, wrapping a large hand around your elbow and leading you inside the base towards the medical bay. You stretch to look back at Poe and he meets your eyes finally as General Organa continues to reprimand him. His gaze softens when he sees you’re walking on your own right before the doors close behind you.
Thirty minutes later, the Bacta spray has restored your hearing and cured the throbbing headache you had. You’re still sitting on a bed in the medical bay, one of the nurses fussing over your chart as you try to get her to discharge you. “I promise I’m fine,” you huff out, crossing your arms sternly as she tries to prod your chest with her stethoscope. “Can I please leave? I just want to shower and get the blood out of my hair. I already said I’m fine.”
The nurse grumbles at you in another language and you scoff, gently pushing her away from you and hopping of the bed. She finally leaves, mumbling some more. You tightly tie the arms of your flight suit around your waist before slipping back into your boots. Looking around, you make sure she’s actually gone before glancing over your chart to make sure you’re actually fine. Seeing nothing that should raise alarm, you quickly exit the bay and stomp down the hall towards the Officer’s showers.
General Organa stops you before you get there and you snap to attention, your helmet clunking against your knee in your haste. You do your best not to cringe. She waves you off quickly, “At ease, Sergeant. I wanted to catch you before meal time, I’m sure you’ll have a line of people lining up to buy you drinks.” Relaxing a tiny bit, you shift on your feet, waiting for her to go on. “Your flying today was phenomenal. Even with all of the damage, no one was lost today, and that’s a small win, but a win all the same.” She pauses again, before reaching out to gently touch your arm, “I wanted to personally ask if you’re okay, seeing Commander Dameron catch fire before almost exploding yourself… can’t be easy.”
You chuckle humorlessly, appreciating the woman in front of you. You can see the fondness in her eyes, and you hope she can see the same in yours. “Ma’am, I think I did explode.”
She laughs, a light sound that bounces off the walls, so opposite of the noises that are usually on the base, “That you did. Thank you for your fearlessness, Sergeant. The Resistance is lucky to have you.” You smile at her as she waves you off before turning to leave, signaling not to salute her. “I hope to see you at dinner, if you aren’t too distracted before hand,” she calls over her shoulder, heading back down the hallway. Her comment makes you blush as you hastily turn to continue the trek towards the showers.
It’s already humid and the steams rolls through the locker room as you step inside. You faintly hear water running and soft humming, but you ignore it as you spin the lock on your locker before yanking it open. Stepping out of your boots, you kick them inside, the dull clunk echoing before untying the orange sleeves at your waist. You push the thick fabric the rest of the way down, slipping it down your legs before shoving it into the metal cubby as well. It’s quickly followed by your undershirt and shorts, and then your undergarments. Grabbing your towel and shower bag, you close it and pad towards the right side of the showers, not bothering to check who’s on the left. It’s empty save for you and whoever it is. While you wait for the water to warm up, the person leaves and you hear the faint clunk of the locker opening and closing before the main door.
The hot water feels heavenly against your soot stained skin, and you watch as the blood from your hair swirls with the water in the drain. Once it’s clear, you just lean into the stream and close your eyes, the steam billowing around you. The door opens again and a few moments later, someone pads into the showers.
“I swear to the Maker, woman. You’ll kill me before anyone from the First Order does.” Poe’s hands grip your hips tightly enough to leave bruises, but you keep your eyes closed as he berates you for the stunt you pulled, “You could’ve been killed. You can’t always put your life on the line for everyone else. You can’t fly into every situation full throttle without thinking. Even if it’s me you’re flying towards. What if Red-Six hadn’t of shot that Tie Fighter when she did? What if they would’ve gotten another shot off?”
“But they didn’t,” you say quietly, your eyes still closed.
“They didn’t this time. But you can’t do this in every fight. The Resistance can’t lose you. I can’t lose you.” His voice breaks at the end, but his grip stays firm on your hips as you open your eyes, blinking up at him.
“You won’t,” you whisper as you reach up to cup his cheek.
“You can’t keep doing this. It’s like you have no care for your own life. ” Poe’s voice is low, so low you can practically hear the way it rumbles through his chest. Your retort dies on your tongue as he rips himself away from you when the door opens again. He quickly and silently pads to other side of the showers and turns one on, stepping under the stream. You watch as his shoulders heave, his tension visible in the way he holds himself.
One of the ground control crew members enters the shower next to you, flicking you an easy salute and you nod, hastily grabbing your shampoo and scrubbing your hair. You wash your body quickly and turn the shower off, grumpily padding back to the locker with your towel wrapped around you. Not bothering to grab any of your stuff, you slam the door and practically run to yours and Poe’s quarters. You hastily pull on underwear, thick black pants and a t-shirt, forgoing a bra. Light leather boots follow your socks, and then you shrug on a leather jacket and comb your fingers through your short hair, smoothing it down so it doesn’t dry oddly.
Just as you’re about to exit the room, the door slides open and Poe looms over you. He isn’t very tall compared to many of the men in the Resistance, but he dwarfs your small frame easily as he slowly steps in the room, slamming his palm onto the keypad to shut and lock the door behind him. You slide your eyes down his chest, noticing how his other hand is fisted into the towel at his waist, holding it in place. Taking a step back, you don’t meet his eyes.
“Where are you going?” His voice breaks the silence and the low tone of it makes you finally realized how pissed he is.
You finally raise your eyes to meet his, “The tarmac.” Poe’s jaw tenses, the muscle in his cheek jumping as he glares at you.
“No.”
“No?” You scoff, reeling back from him as he takes a step closer.
“I said, no. We’re talking about this.”
“Talking about what, Dameron?”
“Do not Dameron me. I’m not going to keep letting you endanger yourself and I will report you if you don’t talk to me about what the fuck is happening,” he pokes at your chest, stepping forward again. You step back again, the backs of your thighs hitting the bed.
“I did my job. That’s all,” you glare back at him, gritting your teeth.
He almost growls, his eyes flashing with anger, “Your job is not to almost kill yourself trying to play the hero.”
“Oh that’s rich coming from you, Poe.”
He blanches at that, blinking down at you. “This isn’t the same,” he mumbles.
“It’s exactly the same and you know it. Before you married me, you did the same thing. You always threw yourself headfirst into it, not caring if it killed you. It’s my turn not to care!” You yell the last part at him, balling your shaking hands into fist at your sides. Blinking tears from your eyes, you bite back a sob as you sink down onto the bed. He immediately comes forward, sinking to his knees in front of you and reaching out to cup your face, tugging gently until you look at him.
“Please, please talk to me,” he whispers, the pads of his thumbs swiping away the tears on your face.
“We’re losing. We’re losing and there’s nothing I can do. I can’t save them, I can’t save us,” you shudder, gasping for air as you sob.
He pulls you into him, tucking your head into his shoulder as he holds you on his knees, “It’s not your job to save everyone. We all signed up for this. We all are prepared to give our lives, but you can’t try to commit suicide for the cause. That isn’t how this works.”
“I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Poe.” Your voice is barely more than a whisper, but it reverberates through his mind and he stills, holding you to him and holding his breath. Finally, you speak in the silence, “I don’t want to die.”
Pulling back, he cradles your face in his large hands, searching your eyes, “I won’t let you.”
Your next move takes him by surprise, though it shouldn’t because he knows you deal with your raw emotions in the same way he does. You surge forward, kissing him and pulling him towards you by tangling your fingers in his curls. Whispering against his lips, your words make him immediately sag in relief, “I don’t fucking want to die. I’m not trying to die, Poe.”
He kisses you back then, his hands roaming up and down your body, trying to pull you into to him. Poe’s tongue drags across your bottom lip, prodding at you to let him inside, your tongues tangling when your lips finally part. His large hands pull you to the edge of the bed as he kneels between your thighs, both of you just touching each other, like you can’t believe you’re back in your room, alive and unscathed after the close calls just an hour ago. You sigh against him as you taste him -
And then someone knocks on the door. You jump away from him, a hint of a smile in your voice when you yell, “For fuck’s sake leave us alone!”
He chuckles when he hears Finn’s voice from the other side, “If you don’t come to dinner, you’ll never hear the end of it from the squadron.” His boots thud quietly as he walks away and you fling your body down dramatically onto the bed, huffing.
Poe drags his hands down your thighs before standing, “This isn’t over.” He winks before turning to get dressed, his smile reminding you just how badly you want to stay alive and experience life with him as your husband.