Grounded (Star Wars TFA, Poe Dameron) 3/3

[RiversD]

I procrastinate existing projects by starting new ones. It's a vicious spiral. Anyway, here's sick Poe. Early sections are pretty sneeze-light, there's some implied mess but I don't think anything hugely graphic.

 

Part 1

The first sign that Poe was getting sick was the headache. It usually was. Poe didn’t allow himself to get annoyed until a stuffy nose and an uncomfortable sense of pressure in his ears confirmed it. There was always going to be one virus that slipped past the Resistance’s programme of inoculations. It wasn’t as if they had immediate access to the latest vaccines from the Republic’s hospitals, and even if they did, there would probably still be something. He knew it was probably just a matter of marking himself as potentially contagious for a few days and missing some drills. Still, it was frustrating.

The first sign that this was going to be something a little more troubling was when he woke up shivering from a nap he had never intended to take. He pushed himself out of the chair, wincing as he felt the pull of stiffness in one shoulder from the awkward sleeping position. He’d have to make sure that was gone before he flew next.

The chills running through his body were more worrying at the present time, though. He ran his hands over his upper arms, trying to persuade the goosebumps to back down. Then the strange feeling overtook his nose, and he was forced to desist in order to cover the resulting sneeze.

“’kisschuh! uh…hh…” for a few moments he thought he felt a second one coming, but the need faded, and he was simply cold. He moved across his quarters in search of something warm to put on, really not liking how unsteady he felt on his feet.

He wound up sitting on the edge of his bed, a spare blanket wrapped around his shoulders, wishing his head would clear. He felt vaguely achy, in a way he couldn’t pin down to a specific body part causing trouble. And trying to think just made him more uncomfortable. Yeah, this was going to be bad.

Poe could feel himself becoming sleepy again. That wasn’t right, he’d just woken up, but he found he didn’t have the energy to fight it. He lay down where he was, and pulled his legs up onto the bed. At least it was a sensible place to sleep, he thought as he drifted off.

 

 

 

He woke to the suffocating sensation of a blocked nose and the buzz of his comms unit. He forced himself up on one elbow, and fumbled for the button.

“Yeah?” Technically he was supposed to answer in a manner that identified himself, but his brain was still waking up.

“Poe? It’s Finn.”

Well, that was more welcome than a call from most people would have been. Poe tried to pull himself together a little, uncomfortably aware of the congestion shifting as he moved.

“hey, Finn. What’s up?”

“You coming to dinner, man? Thought we could catch up.”

Oh. He must have slept for some time if people were gathering for the communal meal already. Poe cleared his throat, or tried to, and rubbed his temples in an effort to clear some of the fog from his brain.

“I probably shouldn’t come over.” He told Finn. “I’m sick with something, I don’t want to infect half the Resistance.”

“Really?” Finn sounded genuinely shocked, but rebounded well. “That’s too bad, man. You’re in your rooms, right? Do you want me to bring you something?”

“That-” Poe hesitated. He didn’t feel much like eating, but he knew he should at least make the attempt. And it would be good to see someone, even for a few minutes. “That’d be great, Finn. Thank you.”

He switched off his mic and fell backwards onto the bed, where he stayed until the doorbell roused him from a half-conscious dream.

 

 

 

“Wow,” said Finn. “You look horrible.”

“Thanks.” Poe croaked, and staggered back to his perch on the bed. When he ate in his room, he usually made a token effort to use the chair at least, but he wasn’t up to the pretense of civilisation today.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean- I was surprised, is all.”

“S’fine,” Poe waved Finn into anxious silence. “ Do you want to cub- ugh, sorry.” He tugged a tissue from the bedside dispenser and blew his nose irritably. This congestion was rolling in so fast he could almost feel it clogging his airways by the minute, suffocating him, and making him feel clumsy and stupid for lack of air. He really didn’t appreciate his own uselessness when it came to sickness- the total inability to do anything to make his body fight harder, recover faster. He almost regretted inviting Finn in to witness this, but not really. Embarrassment was better than lonely boredom.

“Yeah, come in, Finn. Sit wherever you’re comfortable.”

He had expected Finn to pull up the chair at a reasonable distance, but the ex-stormtrooper came to sit next to him on the bed instead. He was carrying two carry-out containers from the crew canteen, which he proffered with an enthusiastic smile.

“They were doing Bantha stew or Daro-root mash, so I got one of each. Didn’t know what you’d feel like. I don’t mind,” he added, somewhat redundantly. Finn hadn’t turned up his nose at anything he’d been served so far, something that did wonders for his popularity among the Resistance’s cookery corps.

“Thanks, Finn.” Poe cast his eyes over both containers, trying to convince himself that he could eat. “If you really don’t mind, I’ll have the stew.”

“Great.” Finn passed it across. He’d brought some recyclable cutlery from the mess as well. Poe smiled.

“You’re a good friend, Finn.”

“Hey, any time, Poe. I don’t see you often enough these days.”

“Well, we have got a job to do,” Poe said, shifting so that the bed supported more of his weight. He felt light-headed at the moment, but far too heavy-bodied, as though his brain were tethered to a sack of rocks. He wondered dizzily if this was how it felt to be a ship at anchor.

He realised that Finn had asked a question and blinked apologetically at him until he repeated it.

“Where’s BB-8?”

“Charging.” Poe gestured weakly towards the cubby-hole where BB-8 had hidden. “He doesn’t have to, but his internal- sorry…”

Poe’s voice shook and failed, forcing him to take a drink and blow his nose before he could finish answering. Finn waited patiently until he was ready to speak.

“His rotary charger lasts longer if he tops up from an external source now and then.” Poe smiled fondly, despite his own discomfort. “Plus, I think he enjoys it.”

“That’s nice.”

Finn didn’t push too hard for conversation while they ate, which was a relief. Poe found that just getting a reasonable amount of stew down was an exercise in concentration.

“Sorry I’m not great company,” he apologized, finally giving up on the stew and setting it aside.

“You’re sick. You’re not supposed to be great company.” Finn raised a hand and gave Poe’s arm a gentle squeeze. “Is there anything I can do? To make you feel better?”

“Just being here was good, Finn. Honestly. If I’m bad company for- for you, I’m… worse for… myself…” Poe felt the tickle building momentum in his nose as he spoke, but forced his way to the end of his sentence before the sneeze overtook him with a harsh “h’KHSSCH’uh! Sorry.”

“Bless you.”

Poe blew his nose, wordlessly accepting fresh tissues as Finn passed them over. When he was done he sat where he was, shoulders slumped, staring into empty space until Finn’s hand on his shoulder brought him back.

“Sorry, wha’?”

“You seem pretty tired,” Finn told him. “I think maybe I should go.”

“O-okay.” Some small part of Poe wanted to cling to Finn, but he pushed it down, knowing it was this illness muddling his thoughts. Finn was right. He was exhausted, he could feel it in every muscle of his body. He ought to rest.

He forced himself to stand up to see Finn out, head pounding in protest against the change in altitude. They hadn’t moved halfway across his unit before Poe’s balance betrayed him as well. He felt the floor lurch beneath him and stumbled into Finn, who threw up an arm to catch him.

“whoa, whoa! You okay, buddy?”

“Yeah.” Poe pushed himself back upright, breathing hard. “just got a little dizzy, that’s all.”

“Sit down, then.” Finn ordered him. “I can see myself out.”

“Door controls are to the left,” Poe mumbled, lowering himself back onto the bed without protest. He felt all wrong, every movement an exercise in co-ordination.

Finn had noticed, and hovered uncertainly in the middle of the room as he watched.

“You sure you’ll be alright on your own, man? You seem pretty bad.”

“Just tired.” Poe’s eyes were already closed. He felt as though he was beginning to float away entirely. “m’gonna sleep.”

“Okay. Good, I guess. I’ll check in on you tomorrow, okay?”

Poe wasn’t sure if he had managed to give an audible affirmative, but he did hear the swoosh of the door opening and closing for Finn, and presumed that he had understood. It was his last conscious thought for several hours.

 

When he woke, his mouth was dry and his head felt pumped full of heavy sludge. He lay still, breathing uncomfortably, until the pulling drought in his throat became impossible to ignore and he had to try and do something to soothe it.

Just lifting his head made him feel as though the bed was tilting, but he really did need that drink. Poe eased himself up by careful increments, and managed to swing his legs off the bed. Then he took a minute to deal with the fallout of getting this far, taking slow, steady breaths and waiting for the room to return to its normal dimensions.

When he judged that he was as close to steady as he was going to get, he wobbled his way to his feet and took a couple of slow, tentative steps towards his water basin.

Then his feet stalled, apparently no longer willing to co-operate with his brain. As he tried to force himself forward, Poe felt a disorienting rush of heat to his head. His fingertips tingled, and the edges of his vision began to dissolve.

Poe had done his time in pilot training, and knew what a faint felt like. He did his best to loosen up to give himself an easier descent, but found his control over his own limbs was severely limited. Then, as though someone above him had cut invisible puppet strings, he fell. He was out cold before he even hit the ground.

Edited June 2, 2017 by RiversD

[Salamander]

49 minutes ago, RiversD said:

This congestion was rolling in so fast he could almost feel it clogging his airways by the minute, suffocating him, and making him feel clumsy and stupid for lack of air.

love

51 minutes ago, RiversD said:

Poe had done his time in pilot training, and knew what a faint felt like. He did his best to loosen up to give himself an easier descent, but found his control over his own limbs was severely limited. Then, as though someone above him had cut invisible puppet strings, he fell. He was out cold before he even hit the ground.

UGh, so capable and calm and resigned. Please say Poe is going to come and find him and help him back to bed?!?!? Please we cant leave him here like this!

[*Dark_Side*]

I'm so excited to see a story about Poe. This is what I've been waiting for. The whole thing is written so well, it's absolutely perfect. I can't wait to see what happens next. I really hope that Finn comes to take care of Poe and that they get a little closer.

[RiversD]

Part 2! Errors are due to my sleep-deprived state.

Part 2

Poe was dimly aware of something nudging him, and an insistent beeping on the edge of hearing. He tried to lift his head, intending to protest, but sank back down as dizziness washed over him in a wave. Then, nothing.

 

This time, there were hands. They were pleasantly warm, and Poe rolled his head so that his cheek could settle more comfortably into one of them.

The owner of the hands didn’t seem content with this, however, and persisted in trying to get Poe to wake up and pay attention.

He had a nice voice, though. Poe had heard it before, it had a name… Finn? Yes, Finn! Well, alright. He could probably wake up for Finn. Best not to upset him if he could avoid it.

Behind Finn’s voice, the beeping from earlier continued. As Poe’s scattered brain cells began to pull together, it began to string itself into comprehensible phrases.

*request-assist*  *reboot-reboot* *forbid-you-die…*

 “okay, okay,” Poe muttered. “shh, BB, shhh…”

The droid subsided with an affronted bleep, and Poe opened his eyes.

Finn was there, blurry, but definitely present, and visibly worried to the edge of terror. Poe frowned. That wasn’t good.

“wass’ wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Finn’s answer came so sharply that he almost sounded angry. “You scared me, Poe! Your droid was panicking so I ran over, and you were out, man! You expect me to be happy about that?”

“n-no.” Poe shifted his hand and gripped Finn’s leg as a crude form of apology. The movement seemed to unblock something in his brain as the world shuddered back into uneasy focus.

Sobriety returned in an entirely unwelcome flood. Every inch of Poe’s body hurt where it was pressed to the unforgiving floor of his pre-fab room. He could feel himself shaking, but he had no idea if that was tiredness, or fever, or pain, or some other after-effect of fainting. He didn’t even have mental energy to devote to the problem, because his head was pounding and he was so congested that drawing breath felt as strenuous as weight-training. And even with all of this going on, his nose still itched badly enough to be annoying.

Poe groaned.

His returning sense of physical misery must have shown, because Finn exclaimed;

“Hell, Poe, you’re seriously sick! What were you even doing out of bed?”

Poe opened his mouth. He wanted to explain that he had been thirsty, wanted to express guilt for having woken Finn up at who-knows-what-time, but all that came out was a high-pitched gulping sound.

“Oh no, are you-”

Finn’s hand touched the side of Poe’s face again. It felt wet. But that couldn’t be right, what would cause that?

“Crap. How high a fever are you running?”

He pushed a hand up through Poe’s hair to feel his forehead. Poe tried to look up at him, but closed his eyes again as the itchiness in his nose turned in a distinctly sneezy direction. He didn’t have the energy to fight it, or the strength to explain, simply raising his elbow as the tickle mounted in his nose, prompting Finn to pull his hand away.

“ah- ksschuh!” He rolled with the sneeze and ended up curled on his side, eyes still screwed shut, stomach churning with the sudden motion. He felt Finn’s hand come back to rest on his shoulder.

“I’m going to run over to Medical, okay?” Finn told him. “I’ll get a doctor to come look at you.”

Poe tried to nod, but the floor still seemed to be spinning, and he couldn’t be sure if he’d managed it. Still, Finn’s hand withdrew, leaving him alone with his thoughts again.

It was difficult to judge how much time passed before Finn returned with a doctor. Poe spent it trying to lie as still as possible in the hope that this would make the rest of the world stay still as well. It seemed to be a reasonable strategy, its main flaws being that the fever made lying still horribly uncomfortable, and that any progress towards equilibrium went to hell every time he coughed or sneezed.

The doctor had cold hands. Poe was surprised at how little he minded. He did object to being moved about by her, but there was only so much he could do about that. At one point she tried to get him to sit up, but gave up halfway. At least, that’s what it felt like- Poe’s world had gone all grey and swirly as she raised him, and he wasn’t really aware of the rest of her examination.

 

He woke, mildly surprised to discover he had been sleeping, in bed and propped up on a mound of pillows. He still ached all over but somehow his head felt a little clearer. The doctor was waiting beside the bed, Finn hovering nervously behind her. She smiled gently down at him and asked,

“Poe? Are you back with us?”

“mm.” Poe cleared his throat painfully and clarified, “yes.”

“Good. Now, I’m afraid you’ve contracted something known as Quarran Fever, an ear nose and throat infection that’s been affecting the outer quadrants and mutating as it hits the more populous areas. Even the Republic don’t have vaccines for every variant of it just yet.”

She checked the notes she had made and went on,

“It looks as though this strain is affecting your ears particularly badly, which is what’s causing your disorientation. I presume you’ll also have experienced some balance issues?”

“A few,” Poe admitted, and winced. Fainting had done his throat absolutely no favours. The doctor nodded understandingly.

“I’ve relieved some of the pressure, but I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait this out for the most part. You’re probably in the best place for that. I don’t want to move you if we don’t have to.”

“No.” Poe agreed, finding the very idea of moving repellent right now. “I’ll stay.”

“Hopefully the sneezing should set in naturally, but if the fluid build-up gets really bad, we can induce it ourselves.”

“I’ve been sneezing.” Poe pointed out.

She gave him a look almost of pity. “Not as much as you’ll need to.”

 

[Zwee]

UM.

 

Sooo... basically the other day I remembered how much I love Finn & Poe and went on a hunt to find *material* for them and for unknown reasons, I didn't think to check this forum despite the fact that you come THROUGH on that gorgeous characterization + PLOT IDEAS + spellingssss... In any case, my findings were unsatisfactory so I decided to read that fic you posted after TFA came out only to find this beautiful thing!!

Are we sharing brainwaves here? Is mercury in retrograde? (P.S., it's not: http://www.ismercuryinretrograde.com/) It doesn't matter, because:

THIS STORY IS SO GOOD WHAT THE HECK

It's like... you have enough knowledge of the universe and enough of a headcanon going to make this story yours and so completely right it's unfair, honestly. Every cell in my body is going "Poe poor babyyyy" and it remarkable just how accurate you are at depicting fevers and illness (although this sounds like a hellish nightmare). This sentence really got to me:

On 5/7/2017 at 6:37 AM, RiversD said:

He felt light-headed at the moment, but far too heavy-bodied, as though his brain were tethered to a sack of rocks. He wondered dizzily if this was how it felt to be a ship at anchor.

And then this follow up as the fever/congestion progresses even further:

On 5/7/2017 at 6:37 AM, RiversD said:

He felt as though he was beginning to float away entirely.

NEARLY made me tear up at how perfect it is.

Also Finn getting so scared he's SERIOUS and yelling and Poe so feverish he can't understand anything (and he's probably crying, right?) and honestly the entire "innocent" relationship they have going where Finn is perfect and adorable and sweet and Poe so delirious and ill and resigned to his misery and kind of wanting Finn to just be there but also being embarrassed and unsure IT'S ALL MY FAVORITE AND YOU ARE A GENIUS. But we already knew that.

(This reply is already way too long but one last thing)

On 5/10/2017 at 3:00 PM, RiversD said:

“I’ve been sneezing.” Poe pointed out.

She gave him a look almost of pity. “Not as much as you’ll need to.”

 

[Shamaël]

On 07/05/2017 at 3:37 PM, RiversD said:

I procrastinate existing projects by starting new ones.

Well, if all the projects you start are as good as this one, it's not a problem. At all. (But I'm sure that one day, you'll take back "Xenobiology 101"... Okay, I'll stop here and comment on this specific story.)

I'm not a huge Poe fan (I prefer Finn), but this was so well-written... I love the feverish point of view.

On 07/05/2017 at 3:37 PM, RiversD said:

When he judged that he was as close to steady as he was going to get, he wobbled his way to his feet and took a couple of slow, tentative steps towards his water basin.

Then his feet stalled, apparently no longer willing to co-operate with his brain. As he tried to force himself forward, Poe felt a disorienting rush of heat to his head. His fingertips tingled, and the edges of his vision began to dissolve.

Poe had done his time in pilot training, and knew what a faint felt like. He did his best to loosen up to give himself an easier descent, but found his control over his own limbs was severely limited. Then, as though someone above him had cut invisible puppet strings, he fell. He was out cold before he even hit the ground.

Wow. Just wow.

On 11/05/2017 at 0:00 AM, RiversD said:

“I’ve been sneezing.” Poe pointed out.

She gave him a look almost of pity. “Not as much as you’ll need to.”

You know what? It's cruel to leave us with this sentence...

(By the way, I love BB8.)

[queenie]

Thiiiis is incredible. I love Finn's gentle surprise at seeing Poe looking so bad, because he's such a handsome devil Finn really didn't expect him to look unwell other than a bit of bedhead maybe. BB-8 panicking about Poe passing out is also very important to me. But ooh boy, that foreshadowing... and I don't suppose Finn will be leaving Poe's side during all of this, not after he left against jos better judgment last night and came back to find Poe burning and collapsed on the floor. I have a lot of emotions. 

[RiversD]

Finally finished this! I swear, I thought this would be a lot easier to write. Ugh, brains, amirite?

On 12/05/2017 at 4:14 PM, Zwee said:

THIS STORY IS SO GOOD WHAT THE HECK

Zwee, darling! This whole review made me so happy. It carried me for dayyys. I love you. (Also, I know you already read the ones on my main drabble thread but there are a few Poe jobbies in my 100-words thread too if you're that desperate for content)

On 12/05/2017 at 7:28 PM, Aliena H. said:

I love the feverish point of view.

Yay! I'm so glad, because I always worry that I get overly soppy at times like that.

On 12/05/2017 at 7:28 PM, Aliena H. said:

You know what? It's cruel to leave us with this sentence...

(By the way, I love BB8.)

Sorry... I feel like this can't measure up, so maybe it's best that you had a few weeks alone with your imaginations. BB-8 is the best.

On 19/05/2017 at 3:32 AM, queenie said:

Thiiiis is incredible. I love Finn's gentle surprise at seeing Poe looking so bad, because he's such a handsome devil Finn really didn't expect him to look unwell other than a bit of bedhead maybe. BB-8 panicking about Poe passing out is also very important to me. But ooh boy, that foreshadowing... and I don't suppose Finn will be leaving Poe's side during all of this, not after he left against jos better judgment last night and came back to find Poe burning and collapsed on the floor. I have a lot of emotions. 

Ahhhh! I feel so flattered to have provoked so many feelings for you! This made me really, really happy, thank you!

 

Part 3

It ‘set in’ a few hours later. Something in the balance of Poe’s sinuses shifted, pressure headache making space for a growing, relentless tickle that refused to be sneezed out, no matter how many times Poe’s body made the attempt. Moving in and out of consciousness as often as he was, it was hard to judge the passage of time, and Poe soon started to feel trapped in a strange limbo, alternating between restless sleep and the unceasing need to sneeze again.

 

“ah’ksschuh! ‘kssch! ah-hissch! ksch! huh-isschuh! ohh…” Poe groaned, his head spinning. Every sneeze sent his sense of balance freewheeling, and they didn’t seem inclined to let him catch a break. He wiped his nose with an already-wet tissue and reached for another, hoping against hope that he would get his breath back enough to blow before the next sneeze came.

His nose was a throbbing potentiality, not so much threatening as promising that at any moment it would trigger that irresistible reflex again.

“Believe it or not, you’re doing very well.”

The same doctor had returned to check up on Poe’s progress. She had told him her name at least twice by now, and he was allllmmost certain it was Hadrissa, but not enough to call her by that. When you were still running a prickly fever and kept interrupting your own thoughts with fits of sneezes, it was difficult to be certain of anything much.

Plus, he hadn’t slept in a way that conferred actual rest in… a while, he couldn’t say better than that because he honestly had no idea what day it was any more.

“Just how bad does it feel?” she asked.

“Like dying,” Poe moaned into his pillow. She didn’t respond, and when he had a little more breath to spend on words, Poe went for something marginally less dramatic.

“It feels like I’m shaking myself apart.”

He coughed weakly into one hand, chest aching even with that. His ribs were not happy with the treatment they had been receiving of late.

“All you’re shaking out is what doesn’t belong there,” the doctor told him. “It will get better.”

“Soon, please.”

“Soon,” she promised, and brandished her micro-torch at him. “Now hold still while I get a look at your ears, and you can be one ordeal down.”

In Poe’s exhausted state, this seemed like one of the funniest things she could have said to him. He started to laugh, but had barely begun when it warped into yet another desperate gulp-and-release, starting the cycle over.

“hh’issshtt! Issschuh! hhh-ah’KSCHH! Ksschuh! kisSCHuh!”

He went limp on the bed for a short time, gasping his way back to lucidity.

“That’s a hard thing to ask, doc…”

 

 

“Morning, Poe! How are you doing?”

Finn’s cheerful question was answered with a flurry of brisk, irritated sneezes before the door had even closed behind him. He smiled.

“Still sneezing, huh?”

Poe grimaced at him from his seat on the bed, face half-covered by a shield of tissues, and sighed.

“At least I’m not passing out anymore. Just… you know.”

Poe binned the used tissue and stretched wearily for a fresh one. He knew it was only a matter of time.

“Could you pass me my water? This is killing my throat,” he added, as though that fact wasn’t patently obvious to all but the profoundly deaf.

“Sure.”

Poe had left his water on his desk across the room. He’d been able to move about a lot more today and yesterday, but he wasn’t quite back to his usual competent self. This meant that his room was becoming strewn with small items put down and forgotten about- or more frequently hastily set aside so that he could field a sneeze- and that he could no longer find anything he needed when he needed it.

Gathering up some abandoned pills and pastilles on his way over, Finn handed Poe the cup and sat down beside him while he sipped at it.

“They’ve been talking about some new camo-panels for the base,” he told Poe. “I don’t understand how they can keep them glitch-free under resistance conditions, but apparently…”

Finn chattered on, bringing Poe all the news from the outside that Poe had been missing while he was stuck in here. Well, not all, obviously, people would still spill more gossip into Poe’s ears than they’d ever share with Finn, but he still brought in a good haul.

Every day, as well. Poe hadn’t appreciated the content as much before his fever had gone down- it had just been comforting noise, which served its own purpose but didn’t convey much meaning- but now he felt like he was keeping up well enough that he wouldn’t be lost when he was finally declared fit for duty. Not that he felt anywhere near up to that yet. He wasn’t even fit for company, really, even if Finn wasn’t showing any hesitancy to be near him.

That was odd, really. Poe knew he looked a mess. He hadn’t even tried to do anything with his hair in days, his cheeks were flushed, his lips were chapped, and his nose was in a special category all its own. It had been through hell in the last couple of days and that showed in every glowing red line and curve of it. It was a mystery to him why Finn had stuck around to watch him be this miserable.

But he had, with a degree of commitment that was bewildering to Poe. He had brought tea, he had re-filled Poe’s tissue dispenser, he had even lifted Poe back onto his bank of pillows when a set of particularly violent sneezes had thrown him off.

He’d do the same for Finn, of course he would. If their positions were reversed, he wouldn’t even hesitate.

Come to think of it… perhaps he shouldn’t be so confused.

“What’re you thinking?”

“What?” Poe’s head snapped up at the sudden question and winced, distracted by the pang this sent shooting up his neck. “Ow.”

Finn gave him a gentle nudge, and explained, “You were smiling. Just wondered why.”

“Oh-” Poe turned to look at Finn properly, which- of course- was exactly when his nose chose to interrupt his thoughts. “I was just thi- ih! ih’sschh! hi’issschhuh!”

“Bless you.”

Poe groaned. He leaned sideways and let his head fall onto Finn’s shoulder. Finn reached around him to rub his back.

“Rough week, huh?”

“Could have been worse,” Poe croaked. He rubbed his nose gingerly, his nostrils too tender to bear rough treatment any more. “You’ve been really good to me, Finn.”

Finn squeezed his shoulder tightly. Poe wasn’t sure if that was meant to signify affection or embarrassment, but either was fine by him.

“Hey, we’re a team, right? I’ve got your back, you’ve got mine?”

Poe opened his mouth to reply, but a runaway sneeze overtook his words to come out first.

“iht’shiue! Damn straight.”

“Bless you. Tissue?”

“Thanks.”

Poe blew his nose as gently as was physically possible. When Finn offered to bin the tissue for him, he responded with a chuckle that was almost a cough, and said,

“You must have been a terrible Stormtrooper.”

Finn laughed, sending Poe’s head bobbing with the movement of his chest. “Yeah, I was. Lucky you turned up when you did, really.”

“For both of us,” Poe murmured,

“Yeah. We’re two lucky guys, Poe.”

“I know.” Miserably sick or not, Poe was certain that much was true.

 

[queenie]

Awww! Finn is such a doting little bean. Nice!