in character pt. 1

there was blood on his hands.      literally and figuratively.      he bleeds from open cuts over his arm from scraping against sharp metal in the rubble.     it runs down the palms of his hands,      over busted knuckles and the wounds over his fingers as he dug and dug and dug.      it soaked him down to the bone,      that figurative kind.      so many had followed him into this battle and never made it out.     he made the call and thousands answered at the cost of their lives and he couldn't bring any of them home.      he couldn't bring dean home.

and that was what upset him the most,      there was nothing left to bring back of people he cared most about,      those who would haunt his dreams.      poe was there for days combing through the wreckage for survivors,      for anyone.     for dean.      he looked through everything,      in places he knew that nobody could have survived,      and found nothing.     part of him knew it was a lost cause at the start,      but he had to try.      dean wouldn't give up on him.      he owed him that much.     in the end,     it didn't matter what he wanted.     he already stayed for a week longer than he should have,      with the crews who picked apart the fallen starships for spare parts,      the ground crews who spent day and night in the rubble looking for anything or anyone they could,      but he didn't get to stay despite his protest.      none of them did.      poe was ordered back to ajan kloss and the remaining crews were pulled out of exogul against general poe's order to stay.      he was drowning in his grief.      he wanted one thing.      one thing to bury,     to give dean the peace he deserved.      exogul was abandoned.

each day was harder than the last.      they held a funeral.     names and faces of those lost in the battle were displayed with holograms across a large room.      it still felt empty.      there were no caskets,     nothing to bury.     nothing save the memories and names carved into a plaque that would inevitably be placed with the rest of their fallen.     he knew many of the faces that hovered over each cold piece of metal.      some he shared laughs with,     some he looked up to in many ways,      others who guided him and allowed him to stand where he does now despite its weight.     leia.     but it nearly killed him to look at dean's,     he almost couldn't meet the hologram's eyes when he looked up at it and saw him:   brave jedi.      and worse,      he could have sworn that he looked back at him.     then there was nothing holding him together anymore.      he cracked.      poe was supposed to speak over them,       to the crowd that mourned the loss of friends and family,      but he couldn't...   he couldn't say goodbye.

it got worse as the days went on,      none of the other generals entertained him long enough for him to plead his case.      we cannot bleed resources,      is what they said in the beginning and certainly what they believed now.      poe tried all that he could,       each reason he could think to go back.       he had half a mind to steal an x-wing,      his x-wing,      and go himself.      but he knew that he couldn't,      not really and not because he cared about the consequences of uncleared missions.      if he found dean and,     by some miracle,      he were to be alive,      he wouldn't have the means or the resources to help him survive the trip back home.      he needed a doctor,      medicine,      a team to be with him in case they did find him.      or anyone else.      but convincing others of survivors after all this time,      especially considering the elements on exogul,     proved fruitless.      poe was seeing more of dean everywhere,      hearing him speak to him somewhere between dreams and waking hours,     beg for him to come help him.      it only fed his need to find him.

it took longer than he wanted,      weeks after the last time they met,      but poe finally managed to convince at least one of the other generals to free him of responsibilities for a day,      all he asked was for a day,      so he could go back one more time.     i need to bring him home,      he'd said,      please... i won't be able to sleep until i do.      he recognized that it was out of pity that any one of them let him go,     pity and probably annoyance,     but poe didn't care because he took his last chance immediately after being released.     

just as he doesn't care about the blood on his hands that makes it a little harder to grip over certain surfaces,      how he nearly slips when he descends deeper into the rubble because he lost his grip for a moment.      the team that he brought with him were several paces behind him,      as well as the doctor who shouted for him to wait for them as he continued ahead.     he couldn't wait.     he doesn't know what it is but he feels drawn forward,      can almost feel something guiding him,     as if he knows exactly where to go.          "   dean's down here,      i know it!   "          he has to be.

and he was.      exactly where he knew he would be.     there is a flat spot beside him where poe finds himself kneeling,      gently reaching to cup deans cheeks in both of his hands.     he's in an awful state,      poe can barely recognize him with the color almost gone from him and blood still marking his skin.      hot tears are spilling over his cheeks,      he brings himself forward to touch his forehead to deans.         "   you're alive.   "         it sounds like disbelief at first,      but then he says it again and its more sure,      something between a sob and a whisper.         "  i found him!   "         he called to the others.     the first of which to come through the hole poe had wriggled through had been the doctor,      who quickly shrugs off his bag and gathers everything he needs.

"   i found you,   "          he says gently,      placing a kiss at the crown of his head.          "   you're coming home.   "          then he is more or less shoved out of the way when the doctor comes closer to start his work.      poe does what he can for him,      what the doctor requests,      and the rest of those that followed behind them had started to clear a path to get dean out.    it took some work and more than a few cuts and bruises along the way back out,      but they got him.      he was safe,     he was going home,     and poe would never once leave his side.     from the time he found him,     to getting back onboard the ship,     to getting him to the hospital where he would be treated for injuries and the state he was in from exposure,      poe never left.       not until he was forced to by the medical staff who separated them before poe could follow behind him through the surgical bay.      then it was another waiting game.

the hours ticked by like centuries.      one,   then two,   then four...   all he could do to keep himself from going insane was pace.    up and down the hall,    circles around the ward over and over again.      people tried talking to him,      he was almost sure,      but he kept chewing on his nail,      absent,      pacing.      before the nightmare was finally over and a doctor approached him slowly,      chart in hand.     he explained the details of deans condition,     the surgery and how well it had gone,       the complications that arose and how from this point forward,      "he should heal nicely,   all things considered.   but take it slow with him,   he's going to need a lot of rest."

the next words to fall out of his mouth after that had been:   can i see him?      to which the doctor nodded softly and led the way.      the room was quiet save for rhythmic beep of a monitor somewhere,      the shuffle of poe's own feet against the floor when he moved to a chair at dean's bedside and rests.      he certainly looked better than before,      the color was slowly coming back to him.

he doesn't know how long its been now.      a few hours,      a few days?     could it have been weeks?      poe didn't rest as much as some may have wished for him since bringing him here.      it didn't matter that he was safe,      that he was in the best hands that poe could think of,    the fear in him that all of this could've been no more than a dream wouldn't allow him to shut his eyes.      he was alert and watching the steady rise and fall of deans chest from moment one,    waiting for this exact moment to happen,       when @goldschosen starts to stir.

poe leans forward in his seat and gently traces his thumb over deans knuckles.      his hands have been bandaged since coming home from exogul,      a nurse had helped him with that when he was waiting for news about dean.     there is a long but careful sigh in relief that escapes him,    just before he leans more and gently places a kiss over deans fingers.          "   hey tiger.   "