[ there's a lot of pain to shuffle through, pain he never properly dealt with. losing leia, losing finn, losing rey (he did lose her), losing every single person who rallied behind him. they all believed in him, and he let them down. every action he'd taken, always so sure that everything would work out — that was his personal motto, after all, things just work themselves out — everything was wrong, and now he was all alone.
he really did want to help her, believed that there was some part of her buried deep, that if he just reached out in the right way, said the right thing, he could bring her back. he believed it despite every horrible thing she'd done. despite what she'd done to finn. he was so righteous, believed so strongly that everyone was fundamentally good, and he knew she was, because he'd seen that goodness in her before. it was only now that he gave up. killing the rest of the resistance was stepping to the edge of the threshold, and digging into his mind was leaping off it.
she has to spend some time digging, honestly, because it's buried deep. deep, but still bright and clear. a fundamental part of who he is. something that shaped him. she would know it; it hadn't been a story he'd been shy about retelling. at least, not the broad strokes of it.
sitting outside with his mother — there was no mistaking that's who she was, there was a resemblance, most notably in her equally ridiculous hair. poe, who couldn't be older than six or so, crying over a dead bird. her explaining that sometimes bad things happen to remind us of what's important. he'd be nicer to birds now, wouldn't he? sometimes bad things happen, but it would be okay. the galaxy is a good place. things balance out.]
no subject
he really did want to help her, believed that there was some part of her buried deep, that if he just reached out in the right way, said the right thing, he could bring her back. he believed it despite every horrible thing she'd done. despite what she'd done to finn. he was so righteous, believed so strongly that everyone was fundamentally good, and he knew she was, because he'd seen that goodness in her before. it was only now that he gave up. killing the rest of the resistance was stepping to the edge of the threshold, and digging into his mind was leaping off it.
she has to spend some time digging, honestly, because it's buried deep. deep, but still bright and clear. a fundamental part of who he is. something that shaped him. she would know it; it hadn't been a story he'd been shy about retelling. at least, not the broad strokes of it.
sitting outside with his mother — there was no mistaking that's who she was, there was a resemblance, most notably in her equally ridiculous hair. poe, who couldn't be older than six or so, crying over a dead bird. her explaining that sometimes bad things happen to remind us of what's important. he'd be nicer to birds now, wouldn't he? sometimes bad things happen, but it would be okay. the galaxy is a good place. things balance out.]