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Approximately twenty hours ago, Poe Dameron had kissed his boyfriend good morning, winked over his shoulder as he teased his clothes on, and watched Finn grin at him from beneath a mountain of bedcovers.
Now Finn is screaming in his arms, bleeding and exhausted, nearly breaking Poe’s fingers off with his clenched fists. They’re surrounded by medical droids. General Organa’s hand is cradling the back of Finn’s head, rubbing with gentle but firm pressure, presumably using the Force to fight against the sheer terror overwhelming them both.
Oh, and there’s a baby about to come out of him. Their baby.
Soaked in sweat, sticky, and having not seen the inside of a refresher in over a day, Poe is resting on aching knees on top of a medical bed. Faring much the same, well…worse, his pool of hot tears dampening the shoulder of Poe’s olive uniform into a blackish forest green, is the person Poe cares about more than anything in the universe.
“You’re doing just fine,” Poe manages to say in an unsteady voice as he rocks the other man gently back and forth against the makeshift cushion of sheets between their stomachs. His own hands are still managing to shake despite Finn’s bone-shattering grip. “Look at you. It’s like nothing’s happening at all,” Poe lies. “Easy as dodging TIE fighters, right?”
“Why don’t you take over then?” Finn yells back at him, right in his ear. He grits his teeth angrily afterward, almost loud enough that Poe can hear it, before collapsing into another agonized, full-body moan. “Hnngthen we’ll see if it’s ‘easy’.” Up to this point, Poe can say he’s never seen Finn truly mad at him. Honestly it’s chilling to witness.
“I would if I could, believe me,” Poe whispers to himself, not wanting anything else he says to escalate things further. He’d done this to Finn, after all. Even if he hadn’t known it would happen, technically it’s still his doing.
Exerting monumental effort, Finn’s body pushes into him, alternating between moments of fatigue and strain. Poe can swear he feels the pain as clearly as if it were his own. Or that could just be his fingers finally breaking.
Before long, almost as quickly as it had crested, Finn’s anger breaks into defeated surrender. “I can’t do this. Poe, I can’t do this,” he says, shaking his head, voice petering out into a whine softer than the rapid beeps of the monitors. “Tell them, please.”
Doctor Kalonia looks up at Poe from her position behind Finn (Finn has long since given up being embarrassed over the many vulnerable positions they’ve shifted him into over the past few hours), holding the medisensor in her hands, tracking temperature and blood pressure and two sets of heartbeats. Eyebrow raised, as if daring Poe to say something to intervene, she meets his eyes. Out of concern and in an admittedly frenzied state, Poe may have yelled at her earlier about useless painkillers and outdated tech that dates back to the Clone Wars, and he may have gotten into a teeny, tiny bit of trouble over it. But there’s no proof of that.
Nevertheless, he’ll stay silent this time. Kalonia goes back to her unseen heroism.
“I can’t, Poe!” Finn repeats, insistent. Although Finn seems to be at rock bottom now, surely it’s just the pain talking, right? Because Finn is healthy, a font of strength for both of them – physically and emotionally. Everything will be fine. Until this is over, he vows to keep telling himself that.
“My guy who engineered our escape from the First Order? You’re saying you can’t do this? Nope. Not true,” Poe says, pushing warm enthusiasm into his voice as much as he can, as he tilts his cheek into Finn’s. “I don’t believe you.” A moment later, however, one of the medidroids makes a strange clicking noise (in Poe’s opinion, anyway) and moves to the selection of instruments, preparing some sort of injecting device.
Hold on, now. What is that?
“Easy,” General Organa states, and he’d almost forgotten she was there, she’d been so quiet. In one hand she’s holding a cup of water, with little bits of ice in it, which she brings close to them, placing her other hand on Poe’s shoulder. “Keep calm. For the both of you.” Only then does Poe realize that she’s addressing him – the man starting to hyperventilate again, not the man loudly vocalizing his discomfort. It’s so absurd that he huffs a chuckle.
“All due respect, General, when you’ve just discovered that you’re having a baby on the same day that it happens, that’s a very tough thing to do. I’m trying my best.” Maybe it’s his imagination, but Poe swears the monitors are beeping more rapidly now.
“Try harder,” Leia cautions, not-so-subtly reminding him of his previous oath to settle down if he doesn’t want to be banished into the hall for the rest of the event. Allowing him into medbay when this is happening is already a huge accommodation. “Drink. You need it.” Like a child, Poe gives in and lets her tilt the cup into his mouth, since trying to take his hands away from Finn would be courting death. Leia then attempts to do the same thing with Finn, but Finn wrenches a hand away from Poe’s to knock it away from his face, and it splashes against the floor, just barely missing one of the droids.
“Shut up!” he cries. “Everybody just-” he slams the hard medical bed with a fist, before clenching Poe’s hand again. Then, as if his reserves have already run dry, he adds, “-be quiet.”
“Not going to say anything about that behaviour? General?” Poe says, but Finn doesn’t appreciate his attempt to lighten the mood, and moves one of his hands up into Poe’s hair to knot his fingers into the curls, visibly arching against another wave of agony. “Ouch. Ow, okay. Okay, I’m sorry.” If he has to choose between his fingers and having his hair ripped out, he’ll save the hair, he decides, and he offers his free hand up to be squashed again.
“It’s all right, Finn,” Leia states, voice not even changing timbre, not deterred in the slightest. “You’re doing very well. Just keep breathing.” She moves closer to settle in on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on Finn’s back, moving it up and down over the medical gown that’s half-drenched in sweat. “You too, Poe,” she adds, “slowly.”
“That’s right,” Poe agrees. “Deep breaths. In and out. That’s the key.”
“What do you think I’m doing?” Finn asks.
“I was mostly talking to myself,” Poe says, and he has a warm memory of their first meeting. See? What’s happening now must be the hand of fate, or the Force, or something. The universe itself is conspiring to make sure they’re together. “But you should do that too,” he says, just throwing it out there.
“If I wasn’t breathing, I would be dead right now!” Lacking a comeback, Poe sits there, entirely useless again, not even able to stroke the sweat and tears from Finn’s cheeks. He looks down at the ‘partner-assisted birth massage’ that’s still displayed on his datapad, wishing he could try it, if Finn would ever let go of his hands. “I’m gonna die, aren’t I? I’m gonna die.”
“You’re not gonna die!” Poe half snorts. Sometimes people laugh when they’re nervous. He can’t help it.
“You know what?” Finn cries out again, sharply, clearly unamused. “I don’t want you here anymore. This is all your fault. Go away.”
“All my fault? You were the one riding me all night long in the training room, if I remember correctly.”
“He doesn’t really want you to leave,” Leia reassures Poe, in a low voice, as if Finn can’t hear what’s going on right next to him. Who knows? Maybe in his condition that’s not far from the truth. “I’m sorry, training room?”
“You didn’t hear that,” Poe says, sheepishly.
“I most certainly didn’t,” she replies, and Poe has a moment where he wonders if Han was as big a failure when Ben Solo was being born as Poe feels now. “Finn, you’re doing an excellent job. One step closer every time you feel those contractions.”
“How many steps are there?” Finn grunts out. “I didn’t know this much pain was possible. How is this possible?”
“The First Order, apparently. I’m guessing you didn’t make it to this particular stormtrooper simulation?” Even BB-8 over in the corner clicks mournfully at Poe for that one, dropping the hemisphere of his head down in second-hand shame. The First Order experimenting on their younglings is why they’re in this situation in the first place. Poe knows this, it’s just that humour is his usual way of diffusing situations and it’s a hard habit to break. In fact, this is the finale of a landslide of errors: Finn’s body experimented on and changed; the medical staff of the Resistance assuming Finn knew what they had done and not bringing it up; then, due to complete ignorance, Poe impregnating him. Now it’s too late to do anything about any of those things.
Neither of them ever do things by halves, that’s for sure.
“Whatever they had planned for these implants,” Doctor Kalonia interjects from down below, shaking her head and grumbling, “there was no thought whatsoever for the parent. I don’t know what half of these things are supposed to do. No matter, we’re just going to have to do a bit of tweaking.” Finn whines into Poe’s shoulder again, as Poe’s eyes widen. “Don’t worry. Your blood levels are stable and we should be able to finally get your pain down a little.” She stands, smiling as if what’s going on in front of her is as thoroughly commonplace as a routine check-up, and picks up the syringe the medidroid had been preparing. “Just a little pinch on the arm and…there we go. So brave.” Contrary to normal, her sarcasm is completely absent this time. “We’ll get you feeling better in no time.”
“See?” Poe says to Finn. “Once we get over the worst part, it’ll all be over soon.”
“Not helping!” Finn snaps, just moments before it dawns on him. A ball of sweat drips down in front of his comically wide eyes. “What do you mean, worst part?”
After that, he says nothing. Whatever Doctor Kalonia has done, it makes Finn slump a little, breathing gradually starting to slow down. Eventually he even sighs in the relieved way Poe normally associates with, well, the act that got them into this mess. Obviously he’s not pain-free, not entirely, but it seems to be enough to take the edge off at least, which can only improve everyone’s quality of life at this point.
“That’s it,” Kalonia coos at Finn. “Now let’s get you turned around so we can get a better look.” Lifting Finn into his arms as best he can, with Kalonia’s help, Poe turns him so that his back is against Poe’s chest. It’s actually a huge effort; he’d been completely blind to how much heavier Finn has actually gotten in the past few months. To him Finn always looks perfect, but there is no denying the man had gotten a lot softer around the edges lately, despite his physical training. A lot of other things had also gone ignored: backaches that were helped with massages, persistent nausea that calmed with fizzy drinks, swollen feet cured by a few hours of rest after sparring, moments of overwhelming sadness that seemed to come on without warning. Stupidly, Poe had assumed it was the new food, new atmosphere, the easier life outside of the First Order that was responsible for making Finn a bit edgy, a bit maladjusted. Even getting up in the middle of the night for weird food was something Poe had overlooked. Oh Poe, his brain mocks in an absurd parody of Finn’s voice, I just love meiloorun melons so much, but they really need to start putting salt on them though, and I want them so badly I have to go the mess hall and eat them at all hours of the day and night until I throw up.
Looking back on it, kriff he’d been such an idiot. Finn, maybe, with his lack of real-world experience – that’s understandable. But Poe? Worldly Poe, not realizing an actual pregnancy had occurred right under his nose? Almost unforgiveable.
Poe holds Finn a little closer, hugging him towards his chest with fingers that have only just started to regain colour and the first tingles of feeling.
“Just need you to stay as still as you can,” Doctor Kalonia then states, her gentle tone in stark contrast to the scary-looking laser scalpel she seems to have acquired from her selection of medical instruments. At this point, Poe has to turn away, feeling slightly queasy himself, what with the sheets already soaked in fluid, blood, and force knows what else to come. He keeps his eyes on the floor as she makes her “tiny little adjustment, good job, very good,” and realizes his datapad full of hasty research has fallen off the bed and cracked down the middle. Then that, too, makes him think of the gruesome scene down below, and he decides to meet Leia’s steady eyes instead. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
As the instrument hums, Poe keeps a comforting hand on the top of Finn’s stomach, helping to bunch up the fabric of the grey medical gown to make room for Doctor Kalonia to work. Luckily Finn is woozy enough now that he barely makes a peep, but to Poe, this still seems like something out of a nightmare.
Force, this is all Poe’s fault.
He’s not a child, Poe, he can swear he’s now hearing in his head, in General Organa’s soothing tones, accompanied by an overwhelming wave of calm. It takes two people to make a baby. He’s strong. You’re both strong. You’ll get through this. No, you won’t lose your lunch, in fact you feel very composed and at ease.
He’s not sure which of those thoughts, if any, are his own.
“That’s better. I think we’re just about ready, when you are,” Kalonia says from her position below the gown. “How about we adjust you a little.” With a short physical rearrangement on Poe’s part, leaving him with his legs outstretched and Finn perched strangely between them, holding onto the arm of one of the droids so he’s more upright, Kalonia peeks out to signal the go-ahead. “No hard pushing. Just let things ease down naturally for now.”
“What?! No, I have to push,” Finn argues. “Get it out of me, now!” And although Poe can’t see them, he can feel tears falling again, hitting his fingers as he makes a swipe at the sweat on Finn’s cheeks and forehead. He assumes this time they’re tears of frustration. “Please. Get it out. I don’t like this.” Then, not a moment later, “Ah! No, put it back in, put it back in, that’s way worse!”
“Not too long now,” Kalonia reassures again.
“That’s what you said two hours ago,” Finn groans, exhausted and observably drawing on energy stores that don’t exist.
“I know you’re scared,” General Organa says, calmly taking one of Finn’s hands in her own. “I know. I’ve been there. But Poe’s here with you. I’m here. You’re not alone in this.” Poe sends a mental thank you to the General, for saying it better than Poe can. Instead, Poe chooses to place his hands on Finn’s lower back, because from what he remembers from the five minute crash course on human labour that he played a few hours ago on his now broken datapad, it’s a good place to rub right about now. He can feel the scar leftover from Kylo Ren under the thin fabric. “If you don’t like this position, we can try other ones,” she adds.
Those are pretty much the exact words that got us into this, Poe thinks, sardonically.
“I don’t want to do this at all,” Finn replies.
“Maybe we should put it back in then,” Poe’s big mouth ends up saying. “I don’t know if the galaxy is ready for another person as attractive as Poe Dameron.” Finn doesn’t laugh, however. “Might cause some sort of anomaly if both of us exist at the same time.” Still nothing. He changes gears. “Okay, you want to know a secret, though? This may have been really unexpected, but I’m happy to start a family with you. I mean, who cares if it wasn’t planned?” Finn groans, low and deep. It’s entirely possible he’s not even listening anymore, but Poe continues anyway. “Come to think of it, it’s not a surprise. Not really. Our baby is going to have loads of Resistance friends. Every time we destroy something big, the humans go crazy, and nine months later…” Leia chuckles, almost imperceptibly. Maybe it hits close to home.
“Family, okay, yes. I got this,” Finn forces out in reply, and it’s the last thing that comes out of his mouth until the litany of “I can’t, I can’t, get it out,” returns, accompanied by clenched shut eyes and agonized cries, despite the anaesthetic, that make Poe wince in sympathy. All he can do is hold Finn close, murmuring support into his ear and brushing sweat back into soaked curls with the new cloth the General finds for him.
And then, just like that, another human being exists on D’Qar. It’s the most terrifying moment of Poe’s entire life. And he’s an X-wing pilot, so that’s saying a lot.
Poe can tell the moment it happens because Finn slumps back against him as if relieved of a burden of planetary proportions. BB-8 makes an awed sound from the corner as the droid finally can’t contain his excitement and rolls towards them, like a younger sibling bursting with a curiosity that supersedes the command to be on his best behaviour. Poe continues to hang onto Finn, wanting to make sure everyone is still breathing. He soon realizes he’s the only one who isn’t.
“You did it,” Poe whispers, when he finally gets his mouth and lungs to work again, breaking the sudden silence as he murmurs into the back of Finn’s pale and shaking body. “You really did it. You’re okay. Good job, buddy. So good.” He squeezes Finn in his arms more tightly in a hug. Finn mutters something mostly-unintelligible along the lines of ‘get your hands off me,’ but Poe doesn’t care at this point.
Eventually, Leia has Poe move so Finn can lie back a little more, propped up on the pile of sheets again. He sits opposite General Organa, and now that he can look into Finn’s eyes properly again, he stares down at him with a smile. Finn looks up to meet him, dazed and disoriented. Then, a naked bundle is lifted up to Finn’s chest, still connected to him as it sputters and squeaks, a medidroid calmly tossing a wrap over it so that it’s almost entirely covered. Finn isn’t having any of it, however, whether still too out of it or simply not yet ready, and Leia helps him foist the baby off on Poe, who shifts further down the bed to take it awkwardly in his hands. It’s so tiny he feels like he’ll crush it.
“It’s, uh…it’s not crying,” Poe points out, looking down at the blueish-brown…thing that’s still covered in film and blotches of blood. Its eyes are closed. He thinks the worst. But Leia is quick to place her hand on his arm in reassurance.
Then there’s just silence for a while. To be honest, it’s a lot to take in. Especially since he’s the cause of this chaos. However it came about, though, it’s still pretty amazing. An actual baby.
“Look,” Poe ventures gently to Finn in little more than a whisper. Finn has his eyes closed just like the child, and already Poe wants to say he can see the family resemblance. Whether Finn wants to hear him or not, though, this is epic. He can’t contain it. “Look what you did! I’m so proud of you.”
Truthfully, his head is spinning now, and he doesn’t quite know what to do. Doctor Kalonia is busy preparing bacta compresses in strange shapes, which he realizes will be placed onto and probably into orifices in Finn’s body that shouldn’t even be there. He wonders for a moment whether Finn will keep his First Order ‘enhancements’ or not. Of course that will be Finn’s decision entirely, and of course they’re still in the middle of a war, but Poe can’t help but ponder what their future holds. Poe had always wanted a sibling when he was little.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. And congratulations,” General Organa finally says, warmly, reaching over and easily adjusting Poe’s clumsy hold. When he glances at her she looks more than a little awed herself, strangely vulnerable in a way he’s never seen before. “Healthy and breathing well. Auspicious, wouldn’t you say?”
“I would say. Yeah,” Poe replies.
“Skin-to-skin contact is best, by the way,” Leia adds, reaching over again to hold the bundle above his hands until Poe catches on, removes the top of his uniform and tosses it to the floor, then accepts the baby back, tucking it into his belly. In an undeniably charming move, it seems to curl into him.
“Finn takes the jacket and the kid takes my shirt. I see how it is,” Poe mumbles, looking down at the little creature. “This is what I’m in for, huh?” Then his attention is drawn back to Finn, who is looking decidedly uncomfortable again. Poe frowns, but Kalonia doesn’t look concerned in the slightest. In fact, she’s almost humming, still patching things up, or doing whatever it is down there that Poe doesn’t feel the need to examine too closely. “What’s…what’s happening?” he asks. Then he pauses. “Kriff, tell me there’s not another one.”
“Just the one,” the Doctor replies. “All perfectly normal, Mister Dameron, don’t send yourself into cardiac arrest.”
“Finn?” Poe tries again. “Do you need me to-”
“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” Finn mumbles. “I’m dead. Leave me alone.” Not quite like the holovids then. Apparently being sore and angry doesn’t always magically go away just because a baby has emerged.
It takes just another minute or so for this final stage to be over. True to his word, Finn doesn’t attempt to talk to him at all. Nobody is talking much, actually, but Poe likes to imagine himself an expert at reading a room, and since everyone seems composed and collected he knows Finn will be okay. A dermal regenerator is already whirring between Finn’s legs, the lit up instruments on the panels nearby beeping less, droids hooking Finn up to fluids efficiently. He’s certainly in good hands.
“No more?” Finn asks, after his final efforts.
“No more, that’s the end of it,” Doctor Kalonia says with a smile, removing and replacing her set of gloves, before examining the cord attached to the child and deciding it’s about time to clamp and sever it. “Excellent work. You remind me of another patient I once had.” She glances over at the General and they share a moment Poe clearly isn’t in on. Leia has her arms folded now, as if a job well done, dignified as always, even with hands covered in baby goop. She stands up, stretching her legs as she steps over BB-8, the droid seemingly planted in place next to the bed.
“Shara Bey would have been very happy. For both of you,” she says to him. Poe is too stunned and overwhelmed to react much in the moment, but he’ll carry it to the end of his days.
“I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that this is all real,” Poe admits. “This could be a really, really weird dream. I’m not entirely convinced it isn't.”
“You could look at her and see if that helps. I have some calls to make.”
“Her?” Poe asks as she leaves, before he looks down at the bundled mass, holding her up and a little closer to his chest. “Oh, that’s…oh.” He’s mesmerized. “Wow.” The little being doesn’t have much hair yet, only a few sticking up from the flat ones in an indication of the impending curl. Huge eyes that seem to engulf her face open to stare back up at him, and Poe jumps a little.
Those are definitely Poe’s eyes. Now it seems real. So real that he’s actually starting to tear up.
A little girl. He smiles back instinctively. “Look, BB-8,” he says, unable to keep the pride out of his voice, grinning wide. “It’s a girl!” BB-8’s head spins around a full 360 degrees, and he whistles to echo his master’s happiness. A girl in the Dameron family once again. Rey is going to flip. A million thoughts run through his head at that moment. He thinks of his mother, with her strength and compassion and sharp flying skills. He thinks of Jessika’s hilarity and enthusiasm, of General Organa’s quiet dignity and stern but kind attitude, of Rey’s combat skills and Force abilities. What kind of woman will his daughter grow up to be?
Well, something he does know is that ‘When is it safe to take babies up in an X-wing?’ is the first thing he’s going to research once he leaves medbay. Poe laughs, unbidden. The small figure with the squished face and squinting brown eyes, still glazed with the shock of entry into the larger world, wiggles slightly. One of her tiny hands peeks out from under the cover, so, so small, and Poe pushes his index finger to meet it. There are another couple of coughs and sputters. In fact, she seems annoyed to be out in the harsh light and cold environment.
“I know, I know,” Poe chuckles. “Sometimes I wish I could be inside him all the time, too.”
Finn groans, still without even opening his eyes. “Those are your first words to our baby? Really?”
“Hey, this fatherhood job chose me - I never said I’d be good at it,” Poe grins. He can’t stop grinning, actually. “You said ours? Does that mean…? Do you want to do this?”
“After what I just went through?” Finn sighs, as if it should be obvious. “I’m not giving up now.” He then opens his eyes to look at Poe, with grave seriousness and determination. “She needs parents. Parents are important.” He looks away. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, though. I can handle it by myself.”
Is this the haywire hormones still talking? Where did that come from? “No way,” Poe says, softly. “She already likes me best. I’m going to be the fun father, I’m calling it now.” Finn rolls his eyes at him.
Poe moves up further, feeling that it’s safe to put one hand on Finn’s shoulder again. “Here,” Poe then says, gently, carefully handing the youngling off to Finn, resting her high on Finn’s chest to avoid interfering with the man’s no doubt traumatized insides. Suddenly there is a gasp from the bundle, and then a loud cry, harsh and piercing.
“Oh! There we go. That’s a good sign, right?” Poe asks, looking over at Kalonia, who has been quiet, giving them privacy. Frowning at the baby like it’s a never-before-seen creature from the far reaches of the galaxy, Finn tries to hold her slightly away, as if she will jump out and eat him. “You’re a natural,” Poe jokes.
“Doesn’t crying mean I’m doing something wrong?”
“Nah, she’s just testing out her vocal skills,” Poe says. Doctor Kalonia looks at them both like they’re the biggest pair of idiots she’s ever encountered, opens her mouth as if to say something, then decides against it. “When she becomes a pilot she can yell at her team. Speaking of,” he addresses his daughter now, “man Snap and Jess are going to spoil you silly. Even Nien Nunb. He won’t be able to resist those eyes. And your grandfather, he’s going to love you more than he loves me.”
“A pilot?” Finn raises his eyes, ignoring the rest of the tirade.
Poe flushes. “Or, you know, whatever she wants to do. Up to her.” Finally, finally Finn smiles.
“I…guess she needs a name?” Finn says after another pause, looking down at her. “This is weird.” He lets the crying bundle rest against his chest again, Kalonia helping him to tuck her under the medical gown skin-to-skin again, where she begins to quiet down, curling into the warmth. “We could name her after your mother?”
Lovely as that would be, “I think it should be up to you. You did the hard work, after all.”
“Okay.” Finn doesn’t have the strength to argue. “After I sleep, though. I’m gonna sleep now.” Poe, on the other hand, isn’t going to sleep. He’s going to comm his father, and put in for some time off, and look up how to be a dad, and figure out how to feed a baby, and beg his friends to help him not mess this up spectacularly. “We can do this, though, right?” Finn looks up at him, strangely vulnerable. “We’re gonna do this?”
And just because everyone does it in those sappy holovid dramas doesn’t mean Poe is above touching the side of Finn’s face like he’s the greatest treasure in the galaxy. Because he is. His family is.
“Yeah. Yeah we are,” Poe smiles, and leans down to kiss them, one after the other.