Work Text:
In some cultures, beings will deliberately cut themselves, marking out intricate patterns on their skin, but other cultures see that as far too intrusive a means of reaching out to one’s soulmate. Other cultures have a tattooing ceremony as part of one’s entry into maturity, but it’s something small, personal—a sort of token of introduction, both into the world of adulthood and to your soulmate.
But for all the cultures that cut or mark, many other beings in the galaxy consider it horribly inappropriate to get a tattoo or other optional bodily marking before you’ve met your soulmate. If any permanent marking or scar you receive will appear on your soulmate’s skin, many beings figure it’s presumptuous to do something deliberate before you’ve met, so many opt to wait before marking their bodies.
Of course, accidents also happen—and most beings accept these with a shrug. Scars and burns become a sort of road map of the bumpy life your soulmate may be living, but they also tell you that your soulmate is still alive.
All of this doesn’t mean that Stormtroopers don’t live in fear of tattoos or other markings suddenly appearing on their skin. Just because many beings don’t mark themselves doesn’t mean that you won’t end up with someone from one of the cutting cultures, or worse with one of those jerks who just couldn’t wait to get their tattoo—beings who ink up their skin with everything from lothcats to cute little phrases. One’s superiors might overlook the lothcat (although your squadron will give you hell), but a tattoo of a Rebel Alliance symbol gets you terminated immediately.
If they haven’t seen it happen first hand, they’ve heard enough stories to know that it could happen. And that’s enough to scare most Stormtroopers.
So while most beings in the universe live in hope where their soulmates are concerned, Stormtroopers live in fear.
FN-2187 is no different.
Still, over the years, he’s also managed to become intrigued as well because he’s figured out a few things about his soulmate. One, whoever he is—and FN-2187 is certain it’s a male—so far he hasn’t been a jerk and gotten a tattoo. Thank the maker for that. Two, the guy has racked up an impressive amount of scars over the last decade. FN-2187 figures he’s either a soldier or a criminal.
And he’s pretty sure that if his soulmate is a soldier, he’s fighting for the other side.
That suspicion he keeps to himself.
But the location of some of the scars… This guy ain’t wearing Stormtrooper armor, that’s for sure.
FN-2187 worries, though. If his mate is a solider, he’s been in enough tight scrapes to last them both several lifetimes. FN-2187 hates to think that his mate might die before they ever have a chance to meet.
Of course, if we do meet, we’ll probably be on different sides of this thing…
FN-2187 frowns and refocuses on his work. He tries not to think too much about it, but every once in a while, a new scar will appear and he’ll wonder.
They’re trained to be machines, really, and maybe that’s why FN-2187 always feels so out of place. He can hit the mark; he can take down an opponent, but he can’t seem to turn off his feelings. And every time another blasted scar appears, he wonders what the man getting hurt is doing. Is he okay? What happened?
And eventually, his thoughts turn much more pleasant: does he have nice eyes? I wonder what his laugh sounds like. FN-2187 knows that the Order doesn’t allow soulmates. He knows he’s not supposed to wonder or to want, but he can’t help it.
Somewhere out there in the galaxy, there’s some reckless being who is my perfect fit.
FN-2187 doesn’t remember his family, his homeworld. He doesn’t even remember a name. It doesn’t seem fair that the Order wants to take this away, too.
But the Order is good at taking away those things that give you hope...
# # # #
Poe is just so freaking frustrated. Like many beings on the Resistance base, he thinks it would be the height of douchebaggery to get a tattoo before he meets his soulmate, and he’s happy that his mate hasn’t done so yet. But still, whoever this guy is—he must be the most careful being in the whole galaxy, because Poe knows firsthand that he is in the most pristine condition ever. Well, except for the scars he’s gotten from me…
But other than those: nothing.
And Poe looks. He looks all the time, and there’s not a mark on him from his mate. It’s ridiculous—because he’s gotten to the point where he’s kind of hoping a small scar will appear just so he’ll know that his mate is safe. And if that isn’t kriffed-up thinking, what is?
That’s why, on a random Taungsday afternoon when he and Jess are lounging in the mess between missions, Poe contemplates making a dick move.
Poe sighs. “Maybe I should just get a small one, something innocuous and—”
“Poe, I’m gonna stop you right there,” Jess says, trying to mask the annoyance in her voice because they’ve had this conversation at least once a month for the past two years. “You aren’t going to do it.”
“Well, I could—”
“No. No, you can’t.” Jess just barely keeps herself from rolling her eyes. “First of all, it isn’t part of your culture, so no. Second, you aren’t a jerk.”
“Awwww, Jess, I didn’t know you cared.”
“Shut up,” Jess says. “Third, there is no neutral symbol. Anything you do could get that boy of yours killed.”
“Who says it’s a boy?”
Jess shoots him a look and refuses to engage the question.
“Fourth, maybe you should just be happy that your soulmate isn’t prone to injury. Because I’m sure when the two of you meet, you are going to have to explain a few of those to him.”
Poe looks at his latest scar, on his left hand—he’d been welding and had forgotten he wasn’t wearing the right gloves and... Poe goes to cover it up. “Yeah, well…”
“No, no yeah well, Poe. Just be patient.”
Poe looks up at her now and she sighs. “I know. Patience isn’t your strongest trait, but you’re gonna hafta try, Dameron.”
Poe is quiet for several minutes before he mumbles, “I’d just like some sort of sign, you know? Some way of knowing he’s okay.”
“I know, sweetie,” Jess says without looking up. She thinks about the scar on her leg—two years ago, something had happened to her soulmate and the jagged scar had appeared. Since then, nothing.
It was scary, but you had to have faith.
# # # #
It’s not just a matter of needing to get off the ship, FN-2187 realizes. There’s something deep down in his gut telling him that he needs to find that pilot and find him now.
He’ll get us out of here. I know it.
And the rational part of his brain—the part full of Stormtrooper training—is screaming at him that he can’t just go break someone out of interrogation based on a feeling, but the louder part of him, his heart, tells him to ignore the fear.
This is what I’ve been waiting for.
This is what I’ve been hoping for.
He’ll get us out of here.
I know it.
# # # #
Strapped into the interrogation chair, Poe spares his soulmate two thoughts amidst the guilt and pain he feels at having betrayed the Resistance. First, he figures that whoever they are, his soulmate has at least three brand new scars today—and all on his face. Whoever he is, he’s gonna be so pissed at me, Poe thinks with a laugh.
But then, he falls into the second thought, those are the last scars he’ll ever get from me. Poe stops breathing for a moment. I’m sorry, soulmate, he thinks. I let you down, too.
When the Stormtrooper enters and says that Ren wants the prisoner, Poe tenses. So, this is it. I’m going to die now.
He blinks and sends a goodbye out into the universe to his dad and the General and his squadron and his soulmate, whoever you are.
And then the world turns upside-down.
# # # #
Poe is sitting in the sand, trying very hard not to feel sorry for himself. I’m alive, dammit.
He tries to forget about the pain and the thirst and the heat, which will soon turn into the bitter cold of night. I’m alive, and I’m going to make it off this rock if it’s the last thing I do.
He then reflects on how he ended up lost in the sands of Jakku and he can’t help the smile that breaks across his face.
Finn.
Beautiful, crazy Finn.
Finn, who is probably de— He can’t let himself finish that thought. I know he’s not my soulmate—because come on, who gets that lucky—but I am not going to give up hope that he’s alive.
I’m going to see him again. I know it.
I’m going to see that smile again. Poe sighs at the thought of it. He then chuckles and pushes himself up, brushing the sand from his legs. You’ve got it bad, Dameron.
As he starts walking up the next dune, he makes a mental note to apologize to his soulmate when he meets him.
# # # #
“Poe? Poe Dameron?”
They run into each other’s arms and they’re talking and honestly, Finn fights the urge to just lean over and kiss Dameron’s big pink lips because that would probably be a bit too forward. Focus, Finn. Rey is in trouble. “Poe, I need your help.”
When Poe introduces him to the General, Finn notices that she gives him a strange look. She’s doing a double take—looking first at Poe and then at him and back again. She’s probably nervous about having a Stormtrooper here, he thinks, fighting the urge to take Poe’s hand. Just for reassurance, he tells himself.
He doesn’t believe himself—he knows why he really wants to take Poe’s hand.
But the General is talking and he needs to pay attention.
As the small woman ushers him across the room to debrief the Resistance on Starkiller base, Finn can’t help but stare at the scar that cuts a jagged ring around her right wrist. The General notices and looks down at it. “A gift from my father to my brother,” she says.
“Han…Mr. Solo,” Finn says. “He has one too.”
Leia smiles but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Something we all three share.”
# # # #
He hasn’t noticed it before and this isn’t really the most opportune time to be fixated on something other than rescuing Rey, but Finn is mesmerized by an old mirror hanging in the Millennium Falcon’s fresher. He’s staring at his own face.
In particular, his right cheek.
His right cheek where there is a tiny scar. Just like Poe’s.
Just like Poe’s.
And the whole galaxy stops spinning for one wonderful moment as it all clicks into place.
He smiles. Well, I’ll be damned.
That’s what she was staring at, Finn realizes.
I knew it. His smile is so wide, it hurts his cheeks.
Finn jumps as Han’s voice barks over the comms, “We’ll be coming in soon, Finn!”
Finn spares one last second to stare at the scar before jogging towards the cockpit.
# # # #
Banking around a TIE fighter, way up in the atmosphere above Starkiller, Poe screams. His shoulder burns for an instant and then the pain is gone. Poe lets out a breath, frantically scanning the skies to make sure Black One is okay, and after a moment of euphoria in which he realizes that I’ve finally gotten a soul-scar—followed instantly by the terror of what in the kriff is happening to my soulmate—Poe forces himself to refocus on the task at hand.
But then, Poe’s back suddenly erupts in soul-crushing pain and he can feel a scar forming, going up from his waist to his shoulder at an angle—for a moment, as it’s happening, he thinks he’s going to crash the ship but he manages to level out.
Jess is yelling over the comms, “Poe! Poe? Poe, answer us, dammit!”
He doesn’t realize he’s screaming until he hears her voice. Finally, he swallows and says, “Yeah, I’m good.”
“Poe, what is it,” Jess asks.
He barks out, “Later. Right now, just focus on the fight.” He twists the X-wing to avoid oncoming TIES, praying that Finn, Han, and Chewie are having better luck than his ships are.
# # # #
It’s all yelling and voices and people running up to embrace one another, but all Poe can focus on is the limp body of his friend. One of the medics says, “We’ve got a heartbeat” and Poe feels his breath catch in his throat.
Thank the maker.
And then, as he grabs Finn’s arm and runs after the medi-cart, all he can think is: please.
Please don’t let him die.
They won’t let Poe in med bay, but he waits just outside, pacing. Soon enough, the girl—she must be Rey—joins him. Neither says a word. They both stare and wait.
Then, they’re being pulled into a new debriefing. R2-D2 has woken up and suddenly, there’s a complete map and a celebration and everyone’s cheering and hugging.
“Hi,” he mumbles, realizing he’s lifted the poor girl right off her feet. “I’m Poe.”
She nods. “So you’re Poe,” she says as if she knows something. “I’m Rey.”
“I know.” He smiles. He wants to say, we already met, and then he remembers Finn, and all of this celebration seems disingenuous.
She seems to read his thoughts. “Should we go and see if he’s…”
Poe nods and they walk to med bay, leaving the celebrations to continue behind them.
# # # #
Dr. Kalonia has assured the two of them that Finn is going to make a full recovery and then she insists that they both go clean up and get some rest.
Poe begrudgingly makes his way back to his quarters. He pulls off his flightsuit and drags himself to the fresher. Thank the maker it isn’t a sonic, he thinks as he turns on the water and steps under it.
He stands there for several minutes, letting the water wash away the grime and the tension and the fear, and he knows he’s crying and that it might be for any number of reasons. He decides not to think too hard about which one it is and just lets the tears fall.
He reaches for a bottle, squirting shampoo on his hand and working it into his hair. He turns under the spray of water and feels his back pull. All at once, he gasps. Memories of the searing pain on his shoulder and then his back return.
He runs his head under the water and turns it off, dashing to the mirror. He stares in awe and horror at the burn on his shoulder. He turns and can just see the hint of something equally sinister on his back.
“Fragging hell,” he mutters.
He runs into his room and grabs the first clothes he finds and then sprints out of the room—sans shoes—headed for med bay. He’s never had a soul-scar appear before. What am I supposed to do? Can it become infected?
He knows he must look crazed as he comes in asking for Dr. Kalonia. She takes one look at him and shakes her head. “I sent you back to your room, Commander. I don’t want to see you here again until tomorrow. At a reasonable hour, Poe.”
“No, Dr. Kalonia, it’s not…” He’s panting and there must be real fear in his eyes because the doctor’s countenance softens.
“Poe, what is it?”
He motions towards one of the unused beds and stands next to it. He removes his shirt. “It happened during the mission, and I’ve never had a soul-scar before and I wasn’t…” He turns to her, his eyes imploring.
He doesn’t expect her to look quite as shocked—and then amused—as she does.
“Dr. Kalonia?”
“Poe,” she says. It’s clear she’s trying to choose her words wisely. Eventually, she shakes her head. “Put your shirt back on.”
He does that quickly, still waiting for her to say something.
She takes his arm and leads him to Finn’s bedside. She points to a chair next to the bed. “Sit,” she says. She starts to walk away when she notices his feet. “I’ll have someone bring you some slippers.”
“But…”
“Sit and relax, Poe.”
“But…”
“Sit and relax, Poe,” she says, her voice soft and kind. “It’ll all make sense soon.”
She walks away and he turns to study Finn. Beautiful, brave Finn, who doesn’t deserve this. A nurse scurries over with a pair of slippers, putting them on the floor next to his bare feet. “Thanks,” he says as the nurse hurries away.
As he slips his feet into the slippers, he takes Finn’s hand in his own, squeezing it. “Doctor says you’re gonna make a full recovery, buddy.” He bites his lip. “Try to make it sooner rather than later, okay?” He’s about to lean back into his chair when he notices a tiny scar on Finn’s right cheek.
Poe laughs. “You, too, buddy?” Poe reaches up with his free hand to run a finger over the scar on his cheek and his chuckle dies in his throat.
No.
It can’t be.
He drops Finn’s hand and stands, nearly toppling the chair. He turns and sees Dr. Kalonia standing across the hall. He points to Finn and then himself. She smiles and nods. He looks from Finn back to Dr. Kalonia back to Finn.
This isn’t really happening.
He looks back to Dr. Kalonia, who is laughing now. “Sit,” she yells out.
Poe nods and reaches back for the chair, unwilling to take his eyes off Finn.
When he finds the chair and sinks into it, he scoots it forward until he can whisper into Finn’s ear. “So,” he says, suddenly nervous. “Soulmates, eh?” He lets out a long breath. “I hoped it would be you,” he says, his voice so small he isn’t sure if he’s said it or just thought it. He closes his eyes. “And I am so sorry about all the scars, buddy. But I’m guessing you kind of made up for that, right?” He grimaces. “Just ignore that one, okay Finn? If you can’t tell, I’m nervous as hell…”
He spends several hours just talking to Finn, telling him anything that pops into his mind, before he finally drifts off to sleep sometime before sunrise.
# # # #
The last two thoughts he’d had before plunging into the darkness had been of Rey and Poe. Fear that he couldn’t protect Rey and pain that he’d never get to tell Poe what he’d discovered.
Yet, as he starts coming to, Finn seems to understand—almost on a molecular level—that his fear and his pain hadn’t been necessary. Somehow he knows that Rey is safe and somehow he feels that he’s going to get to tell Poe that they are soulmates.
His eyes flutter open and it’s way too bright. He wants to tell someone to turn down the lights, but his throat feels tight and parched, so all he manages is a “Ungrah” before there are all sorts of beings crowded around him. He closes his eyes in a futile attempt to make them all shut up, but then there’s a hand, slipped into his own, and it’s warm and calloused and one finger is drawing circles on his palm, so he opens his eyes again to search out the owner of said hand.
And it’d better be Poe, he thinks.
He tries to turn his head and all of the beings make a noise that tells him they think that would be a very bad idea. He lets out a huff and manages, “thirsty.”
Then, he can hear Poe’s voice in his ear. “Glad you’re back with us, buddy.” And there’s a kiss to his ear before Poe is being shooed away by some nurse.
“No,” Finn croaks.
Dr. Kalonia’s voice cuts through the din. “Everyone but Commander Dameron, Nurse Penni, and myself, leave!”
As everyone leaves, Poe takes Finn’s hand back in his. Finn smiles up at him. “We…” He begins coughing.
“Poe,” Dr. Kalonia says. “The liquid?”
Poe nods and moves to offer Finn a long straw.
Finn closes his eyes and drinks, long slurping gulps, until Dr. Kalonia barks, “Slow down, Finn!”
Eventually, he’s had his fill. He pushes the straw from his mouth and looks up at Poe. “We’re soulmates,” he says.
Dr. Kalonia laughs. “Well, as long as we’re getting the important things out of the way first.”
Finn blushes.
Poe leans in for a kiss to Finn’s cheek. “And once the evil doctor is gone, you’re gonna tell me how you figured that one out before I did.”
Nurse Penni can’t help himself. “You almost didn’t figure it out, Dameron.”
Poe shoots an annoyed glance at the nurse before pressing another quick kiss to Finn’s cheek. “Okay, doctor, why don’t you tell our boy what’s what,” Poe says, settling back into his chair.
“Why, thank you, Commander Dameron,” Dr. Kalonia deadpans before starting to explain to Finn the extent of his injuries.
# # # #
“Eventually, you’re going to have to let it go, you know,” Finn says, staring at his hand.
“Not for a few more days,” Poe says, squeezing. “So go on, tell me how you knew.”
“The scar on our cheeks,” Finn says. “Noticed on the way to Starkiller.”
Poe shakes his head. “I should have caught that sooner.”
“If it’s any consolation, the General figured it out before either of us,” Finn says.
Poe shakes his head. “She always does.”
Finn smiles up at him. “Well, you may not have noticed my cheek, but I’m guessing a big gash down your back was a pretty clear sign.”
Poe blushes bright red. “I might have missed that one.”
Finn laughs. “What?”
“There was a lot going on, Finn! First of all, I was flying when it happened and then, I thought you were dead and they were rushing you to med bay.” He squeezes Finn’s hand. “Don’t do that to me again, okay?”
Finn squeezes back. “Okay,” he says softly.
“Anyway, then, we found the map and I met Rey—who’s amazing, by the way.”
“Already knew that,” Finn says.
“Well, there’s a lot you already knew, isn’t there?” Poe sticks out his tongue. “Anyway, it wasn’t until I was in the fresher that night and noticed the scar and kind of freaked out...”
“And then you figured it out,” Finn says.
Poe shakes his head, looking at his feet.
“No?” Finn frowns. “Poe, how thick are you?”
“I was sleep deprived and worried! About you, I might add!” Poe huffs out a sigh. “Anyway, I came down here and Dr. Kalonia put me in this very chair and…”
“And?”
“That’s when I noticed the scar on your cheek.”
Finn lets forth a deep belly laugh. “So, not the gash down your back or the horrible burn on your shoulder, but the little nick on our cheeks?”
“Yes,” says Poe sheepishly.
Finn chuckles. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty, Poe.”
“Hey!”
“I’m just kidding, mate,” Finn says.
“Mate,” Poe repeats, pulling Finn’s hand up to his lips. He closes his eyes and breathes Finn in. “Soulmate.” He brushes his lips across Finn’s hand.
“Soulmate,” Finn says, feeling tingly all over. It’s like Poe’s lips are made of electricity.
And for a few minutes, the two of them sit there in silence, just enjoying this new feeling of being together.
Eventually, though, Finn says, “Oh, and thanks for never getting a tattoo or anything.”
Poe chuckles. “You’re welcome. Although the next time you see Jess, you should probably thank her too.”
Finn shakes his head. “Seriously, Dameron!”
“I was worried about you!”
Finn laughs. “I love how the man who gave me a new scar almost every fragging week was worried about me, the one with no scars.”
“Well, you’re stuck with me now,” Poe says. “Forever,” he sing-songs before laughing.
Finn brings their clasped hands onto his chest, covering them with his other hand—anchoring Poe to him. “Forever,” Finn whispers.
Stormtroopers learn to fear a lot of things—failure, the wrath of their superiors, the possibility of a soulmate… But Finn was never really a good Stormtrooper, not deep down. Not where it mattered.
And he’s feeling a lot of things right now, but fear isn’t one of them.
There’s no fear. But there’s lots of hope.
And that’s what soulmates are, after all. Hope.
Finn lets out a contented sigh before starting to slip off into sleep once more. Poe leans in and kisses his forehead. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“I know,” Finn murmurs. I know.