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"I defy the stars;
I defy Heaven and Hell.
The laws of the universe say that the man I love is lost to me.
I say:
Watch me save him."
- He saved me first, you know - c.k
Unlike fairy tales, real life rarely recognizes beginnings, and has no honest end. Things start without anyone noticing, and a person has many ‘ends’ before their death, and even several after. People’s stories are not linear, they are not formulaic, there is no conquest or climax. Sometimes, things just are, and that’s what makes real life so much better than any story ever told.
For Poe Dameron, when he recalls his life in all its fragmented state, there are two types of memories. There are those that exist in truth, like the first time he flew an X-wing, or the first time he tasted blood in his mouth. Those memories have dates and times attached to them, and can be recalled with certainty. There are dateless things that span the length of his life, too. Emotions and recollections, like the way falling feels and the curve of his mother’s smile. These things exist somewhere in between a start and an end, there is no first and last time.
One of these immeasurable memories is of a boy with black hair and a lost smile. For Poe, Ben Solo exists somewhere between is and was, somewhere between the past and the future. For Poe, all he can say with any certainty is that he fell in love with Ben. He can’t say he still is, because there are times when there is nothing but hate. Poe also can’t say that he only was, because some days he still loves him in spite of it all.
-
Poe is thirty-three and the blood on his hands has been there before. People say everyone bleeds the same. Poe disagrees. Spread sticky sweet across his fingers as he presses against the puncture wound in Kylo Ren’s ribs is the same blood he sopped up after a bloody nose in the forest with his best friend. There’s a part of him recognizes the blood, recognizes that in reality it belongs to the same person it did before.
This is Kylo’s blood. But it was also once Ben’s.
Poe wipes it away all the same.
-
Poe is sixteen and Ben is about to return from a winter spent training with Luke. Poe stands beside Leia, Han not far off, vibrating with energy as he awaits the arrival of the ship that carries his best friend. Ben is away training for months at a time, and his time back home is never long enough for either of them.
When his ship lands, and the hatch opens, neither boy hesitates. Ben has his arms around Poe’s neck, taller than Poe by almost a foot despite him being two years younger. Poe crushes him close, their arms wrapped tightly around one another in a hug that’s familiar and exciting all at once.
“Your hair’s so long,” Poe says with a grin as they pull away. Ben nods, tugging at the strands of his dark hair that scrape his chin. Poe opens his mouth to say something more, but Ben looks passed his friend and smiles at his mother and father, pulling away to embrace them as well.
Selfishly, Poe wishes he could take Ben and run, wishes he could have him all to himself for the day. He pushes that thought away, and let's Ben speak with his parents about his training. Poe hangs on every word, eager to hear about his training blade and the history of the deep core. Han and Leia nod along, listening but not learning the way Poe is. Poe wishes Ben could teach him everything he knows. He’d listen to Ben talk forever.
-
Poe is thirty-two and Kylo Ren is inside his mind. It burns, the intrusion of another person rooting around where they aren’t supposed to. There is torture, also, but not the kind that feels like knives or needles.
It’s the kind of torture that feels like reuniting with your best friend and knowing that if you weren’t of use to them, they would have slaughtered you.
-
Poe is sixteen and sitting in Ben’s bed, legs crossed, listening to Ben talk about how boring meditation is. He groans about the days he is forced to spend in silence, and the things he thinks about when he’s supposed to focus.
“Think of me much, do you Benny?” Poe teases, leaning back, back arched. Ben laughs, and slaps Poe’s knee. Poe laughs too, but stops when Ben’s smile fades, and he clamps his bottom lip between slightly crooked teeth.
“Sometimes,” Ben admits with a shrug. Poe raises an eyebrow. “I mean there’s a lot of time to think when I’m training. I think of a lot of things, don’t feel special.”
But Poe does feel special. He feels alight with Ben’s love. Feels like it will last forever.
-
Poe is thirty-three and Kylo is saying, “It will be easier for both of us if you leave me for dead.”
His weight is heavy against Poe’s side, his towering height no longer a marvel but a hinderance. Flames lick at their clothes as Poe drags Kylo from the wreckage of his burning command vessel, littered with the corpses of fallen Stormtroopers. Kylo’s blood is still thick on Poe’s palms as he tries to stop the knight from bleeding out.
“Easier for you, maybe,” Poe grunts, choking on smoke. “Also easier for the Resistance, I’d imagine.”
Kylo opens his mouth to speak, but slips on the slick ground, slippery with cooling fluid that gushes from one of the turbines. Poe’s knees buckle as he takes the full weight of the other man, and he tightens his grip in hopes that Kylo won’t fall. They remain upright, but only barely. Kylo’s knee, which is almost surely broken, gets jostled and Poe’s increased grip sends a jolt of pain through his punctured ribs.
Poe whimpers at the sound of Kylo’s cry of pain. He gentles his grip as best he can, but knows it can’t help much. The best thing he can do it get them out of the ship, and to safety. After that, he can be as gentle as he wants.
“Go,” Kylo pants, trying to catch his breath.
“I’m trying.”
“No,” Kylo’s voice is fractured and shivering. “Alone.”
“I’m not leaving you here,” Poe growls, shouldering Kylo’s weight and all but dragging him, Kylo’s arm wrapped tight around the smaller man’s neck. “Sorry to break it to you, but when I see you, I still see him. And I promised to never let him go.”
-
Poe is fourteen and he has never been one to do things by halves. The same goes for Ben. When they first kiss, they aren’t just experimenting with their tongues and teeth. They are experimenting with the limits of their hearts, with the depths of love.
There is never hesitation for the pair of them, only promise.
-
Poe is sixteen and still grinning, sly as ever. “Don’t try and hide it, Ben,” he says. “You think about me more than anyone else.”
“Only because you’re awful.”
“That’s a good enough reason for me,” Poe says, flopping backward on the bed and stretching his legs out, crowding Ben’s space. Ben huffs a breath of protest as Poe lays his feet in his lap, taking up more space than he needs.
“I didn’t miss this,” Ben lies, placing his hands on Poe’s boney shins.
“I know,” Poe sighs.
-
Poe is thirty-two and saying, “Who talks first?” His knees are dusty with the sand of Jakku, and the face before him is both familiar and foreign. He knows that behind the mask is the same scowl Ben would always wear when Poe made bad jokes. He continues his teasing, even in the face of almost certain death, desperate to somehow get a glimpse of that scowl.
But Kylo’s mask is in place for a reason. His cold, cruel facade is all that remains.
-
Poe is twenty-nine and climbing into his new X-wing. He runs his hands possessively over the controls, stroking the sweeping dashboard. The pride he feels is interrupted by nostalgia when he removes a small stone from his pocket. The rock is smooth, and a soft purple in color. The string attached to it is strong, but worn from years of use.
Poe places the necklace on the steering control, wrapped around the joystick securely. Poe holds the stone in his palm for a second, a thin smile on his lips, before letting it fall.
The stone stays there, a token of good luck.
-
Poe is fifteen and the stone in his hand feels foreign. Ben stands before him, pale face split in a grin as he nods at the purple stone. “I found it,” Ben says, sounding incredible proud. “Mom helped me put it on the string. I know you don’t really wear jewelry, but maybe you can put it in your cockpit once you get your own ship.”
“I’ll wear it,” Poe says quickly, slipping the stone around his neck and feeling it bounce against his chest. “This is awesome!”
“I’m glad you like it,” Ben says, shuffling his feet before leaning in to press a kiss to Poe’s cheek, delicate and sweet. “Maybe it will bring you luck someday.”
Poe bites his tongue to stop from saying, Maybe it already has.
-
Poe is thirty-three and yelling Finn’s name. Finn stands nervously outside Kylo’s demolished ship, awaiting Poe’s return. At the sound of his name he darts forward just in time to see Poe emerge from the wreckage, Kylo draped over his shoulder. Kylo’s face is pale, his blood drenching both of them and Poe struggles to keep them both upright.
“Is anyone else alive?” Finn asks, ducking under Kylo’s free arm.
“Be careful,” Poe warns, frantic. “He’s got something metal in him. And I think his leg is broken.”
“Got it,” Finn is careful not to hurt Kylo further. “He’s the only one?”
“Yeah,” Poe grunts.
Safely away from the fire they lay Kylo in the sand of Mandalore. Despite his blood already staining the pale desert his eyes remained focused, tracking Poe’s movements. Poe sets to work unclasping Kylo’s belt, and removing articles of clothing to better assess the wound.
Kylo keeps one hand clasped tightly to the fabric of Poe’s jacket. Poe doesn’t push it away.
-
Poe is sixteen and Ben is saying, “I need to tell you something.”
“Yeah?” Poe asks, his feet still in Ben’s lap. He doesn’t sit up, tries to act nonchalant in the face of the apprehension he feels. Ben’s hands are still tracing circles on Poe’s shins, still keeping contact as he continues.
“I don’t want to be a jedi.”
Poe holds his breath. Ben does too.
-
Poe is thirty-two and Rey is standing in front of him, hands on her hips and her jaw set. Finn lingers behind her, hands wrung in front of him like he’s broken some rule. Poe raises an eyebrow, and waits for one of them to speak.
“I know you,” Rey says finally.
“I know you, too,” Poe answers as if it’s a question. BB-8 chirps beside him, but he ignores her.
“No, from before this,” Rey explains. Poe has known of Rey for a while now, from Finn’s nervous chattering about traveling to the Star Killer Base to save her. She’s been saved now, and Finn’s been healed, and they’ve had a few interactions in the time in between then and now. “I saw you inside Kylo Ren’s mind.”
“And what were you doing inside there?” Poe asks, laughter covering the fear he feels. “It’s a dangerous place, little lady.”
“He was inside mine first. I followed him back to his. And there you were.”
“You may forget, but I was held captive by Ren just like you were.”
“Not those kinds of memories. You were laughing. And you hugged him.” Her face contorts into something wicked, like the idea of hugging Kylo disgusts her. He supposes it would, when all you know of Ben Solo is Kylo Ren.
“What exactly are you accusing me of?”
“How does fraternizing with the enemy sound? Or maybe treason?”
Finn makes a sound of distress, trying to catch Poe’s eye. Poe glances at him before waving him away. He knows Finn isn’t the one accusing him of anything. They are just curious, and rightly so.
“You sure you want to know my whole sad, sorry story?” Poe asks, kicking out the chair that rests across the table from him. Finn pushes passed Rey and takes the seat, ready to listen. Rey is a bit more hesitant, but after a moment she joins the other two at the table.
“I know it’s easy to forget, but before he was Kylo Ren, he was Ben Solo,” Poe begins. It’s the truth for most people, but for people who knew him best, people like Poe, it’s impossible to forget. “And when he was Ben Solo, he was my best friend.”
-
Poe is sixteen and he finally let’s out his breath as Ben says, “Training is so boring, and I just… I don’t like being away for so long. I thought it would be easier, but it wasn’t.”
“You thought training to become a Jedi would be easy?” Poe sits up a bit, propped up on his elbows. He leaves his feet in Ben’s lap, wants to feel Ben’s warmth against any part of himself that he can.
“Not the Jedi part. The leaving you part.”
“Oh,” Poe says, feeling as though he’s been punched. His chest feels empty, like all that remains in his sternum is his pounding heart. Poe sits up proper, tucking his feet underneath him and fixing Ben with a curious stare. Ben drops his eyes, won’t meet Poe’s.
“Sorry, I guess that was--”
Ben is silenced with a kiss. When Poe pulls away he lets out a single, sharp laugh and says, “Leaving is only hard if you don’t promise to come back. Do you promise to come back?”
“Of course I promise.”
-
Poe is seventeen and Ben has just landed. He doesn’t throw his arms around Poe like he did last year, but he does smile and pull his hood down, exposing the sharp lines of his face. Poe grins like he does every year when he gets to see Ben.
Poe takes in his lithe form, the dark robes he wears. He looks different now, older and stronger. He looks more like a Jedi everytime Poe sees him.
“Guess what?” Poe calls, approaching his friend. Ben raises his eyebrows in askance. “I’m officially a pilot now. Got my first X-wing. Leia says I can join a troop this fall.”
“That’s fantastic,” Ben says, sounding just as excited as Poe is. “Show it to me?”
“Sure,” Poe nods. “Want to see your parent’s first?”
“No,” Ben says without hesitation. “X-wing. Lead the way.”
Poe only pauses a moment, regarding his friend with a careful eye. He does as asked, though, and leads Ben toward the flight base. He locates his ship, the symbol of the Resistance carefully painted on the side.
“Want to get in her?” Poe asks, turning to face Ben. He doesn’t get a response, instead he gets Ben’s hand placed directly on his chest. Ben walks him backward until he is pressed against the extended leg of the landing gear, one hand just below his collarbone, the other pressed against the metal stand, caging him in.
“Feeling handsy, Ben?” Poe asks, feeling small beneath Ben’s towering form. Ben’s eyes are cold, a tiny smile on his lips.
“Missed you,” he whispers, breath hot on Poe’s lips.
Poe kisses him, and Ben kisses back, frantic and urgent. Poe’s lips feel bruised within seconds, trapped between the clash of his and Ben’s teeth. Ben presses his hands against Poe’s chest, stomach, trailing along his arms and shoulders. There is nothing peaceful or soft about their interaction. It is cold and desperate.
Poe wants to push Ben away and ask what’s wrong. He doesn’t. Instead he let’s Ben kiss him like it’s their last time. In many ways, it was.
-
Poe is thirty-three and he can hear Finn cheering. He’s yelling, “Direct hit! We got him, Poe!” Poe tightens his hand on his control, closes his eyes for the briefest of seconds. Kylo’s command vessel is spiraling, heading straight for the ground.
As Poe banks right, following the descending ship, the purple stone wrapped around his joystick sways slightly, tapping Poe’s knee. Poe wishes more than anything that he could take his hands from the control and scoop the rock into his palm. He wishes he could place it around his neck, tuck it close to his heart.
Poe wishes he were a kid again, the necklace pressed against his collarbone, pinned between his body and Ben’s as they kissed against his X-wing.
-
Poe is nine and his mother has just died. He doesn’t feel anything, not the beating of his heart or the sun on his face. All he recognizes is Ben’s arms around his shoulders. He feels Ben. He always feels Ben.
-
Poe is eighteen and there are tears on his face. He stands in a conference room, empty except for Commander Leia, who watches him cry with concern.
“I can’t do it,” he chokes. “What if-- what if we run into him?”
“Then you do what you have to to survive,” Leia says gently, but with a tone of command.
“I can’t h-hurt him.”
“I don’t want you to have to,” Leia steps toward the boy, the one she watched sleep in her living room and smear dirt on her son. “But he’s made his choice, Poe. You have a loyalty to your troop.”
“No,” Poe shakes his head, frantic and broken. “No, I have loyalty to him. He’s--”
“Gone, Poe. Ben is gone. I know you love him. I love him, too. But Ben is gone, and you have a family to protect. Us, the Resistance, we’re your family.”
Poe sobs, breathless and aching. He doesn’t fight her, doesn’t tell her that the Resistance will never be family the way Ben was. The Resistance will never fit the way he did.
-
Poe is thirty-three and he’s snarling, “Stop bleeding, goddammit.” Finn hovers behind him, conflicted. Letting Kylo bleed out in the Mandalorian desert certainly wouldn’t hurt their cause, but it would hurt Poe, and that feels somehow worse.
“It’s not gonna stop if you yell at it,” Kylo says, voice weak and fading. Unconsciousness teases at the edges of his mind, and he fights to keep his eyes open. His fist is still clenched in Poe’s jacket, holding as tightly as he can.
“Fuck you,” Poe says, frustration in his voice as he tears off another strip of Kylo’s robe, pressing it against the gash between his ribs. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.”
“Very nice, Poe,” Kylo’s voice cracks on the familiar name in his mouth. “Swearing will help.”
“You know I might be nicer if you weren’t such a terrible person.”
Kylo smiles, something familiar and gentle, something Poe hasn’t seen since he was seventeen. Poe bites his lip between his teeth, drawing blood but ignoring it as he tries to stem the bleeding with trembling hands.
Kylo let’s go of Poe’s jacket, his fingers slack and his eyes closed. Poe shouts, but Kylo doesn’t hear.
-
Poe is thirty-two and Finn is asking, “Is it hard to fight him?”
They are loading up their X-wings, side by side, ready for a simple observation mission. They shouldn’t be pursued, but if they are, they have permission to shoot down whoever finds them. Poe prays to whoever is listening that Kylo doesn’t spot them. Finn is still in training, he doesn’t know how to shoot and not kill, not the way Poe has perfected.
“Yeah,” Poe admits.
“It’s hard to fight the New Order sometimes,” Finn says. “Even though I don’t know who I’m shooting at, I know I could have trained beside them at some point, you know?”
Poe nods, but knows it isn’t the same thing.
-
Poe is thirty-three, and he awakes to the sound of Ben’s voice. Or maybe it’s Kylo’s, he can never tell the difference. Or maybe there isn’t a difference at all. Poe raises his head, locking eyes with the confused man in the bed he is slumped against.
“What happened?” Kylo repeats. The bed Kylo lays in is soft, but the room is filthy. His body aches, and he feels weak, but he’s alive and waking up to someone he hasn’t woken up to in years.
“You passed out. I got the bleeding to slow, and we flew you to a base we have on the other side of Mandalore.”
“I’m in a Resistance base?” Kylo hisses, eyes narrow.
“No one knows who you are. We said you were a prisoner we rescued. No one here recognizes you.”
“I can’t stay here,” Kylo says, determined. “I need to get back to the New Order. And you need to run. Snoke knows how to find me, they probably already know where I am and are on their way. You may have saved my life, but the Supreme Leader won’t be so forgiving.”
“I know,” Poe says with a simple shrug of his shoulders. “I was only going to stick around long enough for you to wake up.”
Kylo watches Poe with analytical eyes. Poe stares back just the same. So much has changed in the passing years, in the fragmented moments they have been away from one another. Kylo’s face is twisted and scarred from Rey’s blade. Poe’s hair is longer than it used to be. Their eyes are the same though, familiar and close. Poe looks away first, fixing his gaze on the wall ahead of him.
“I only have one thing to ask you,” Poe says, his voice catching in his throat. “Will you ever come home?”
Kylo let’s out a soft sigh, sensing the question before it was asked. He scans the shape of Poe’s shoulders, the bloodstains on his jacket. He catches a glimpse of purple, just below Poe’s collarbone, and closes his eyes tightly.
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”
“That’s a no, then?”
“I can’t go home,” Kylo says, voice fluttering. He opens his eyes, but doesn’t look at Poe. “The New Order has come too far. I’ve caused too much damage to the Resistance to ever rejoin it.”
“I’m not talking about returning to the Resistance. I’m talking about returning to me.”
Kylo lets out a chuckle, broken and sad. “You’re not my home, Poe.”
“I used to be.”
They catch each other’s eyes then, and Poe stands to leave. His eyes are filled with tears, but he doesn’t let them fall. He just regards Kylo with an open stare. Kylo drinks in the sight of him. He knows Poe will leave any minute, and the war will continue. It would be the end of them, eventually. If there was any good in the universe, though, it would allow them to die separately. No matter where their loyalties lie, they could never be the end of one another.
“Did you love me?” Poe asks, standing at the door.
“Yes,” Kylo says softly.
“And do you still?”
“Yes,” Kylo’s voice is even quieter than before, barely more than a breath. Poes swallows once, then twice, before striding back across the room.
“Take it,” Poe says, slipping the stone from his neck and around Kylo’s. The other man makes no move to stop him, just lets the tears well in his eyes as he tracks Poe’s movements. “Maybe it will bring you luck someday.”
Chapped lips are pressed to the ragged scar of Kylo’s cheek is a fleeting goodbye kiss, tender and familiar.