[Maybe it's the fact that even with Ren's well-executed coup in play, Finn's still carrying the safeguard of a few waning painkillers in his system. Maybe it's the fact that he's not the causeless, nameless soldier left floundering among the First Order's ranks. Hell, maybe he's just grown.
Whatever it is, however hard he cringes (eyes pinched shut, teeth gritted so tight they feel ready to crack) against the pull of gravity where it drags against healing flesh and bone, he manages not to scream. Sputters, struggling where his breath catches hard in his throat, straining out a few choked-off noises before his sight comes back. Dazed, vision riddled with spots, but he recognizes the uniform streaked with red at Kylo Ren's feet: Resistance. This is-- was a resistance base, maybe even the one he visited before, and dread sinks to the base of his stomach like a stone.]
--what did you do?
[To Rey, to Poe-- to all the people here he'd liked via merit of being the exact opposite of the First Order and its sickening addiction to control without mercy. They'd have ruined him if he stayed (he didn't run for anything less than the threat of reconditioning, the horror of watching innocent civilians die without justification, Slip's shaking fingers still tacky with blood...) he didn't know how, exactly, but he knew it was coming for him even before he grabbed Poe's cuffed arm and bolted. Now? Now his life, his sanity, all pales in comparison to the idea that everyone else's might be at risk.]
no subject
Whatever it is, however hard he cringes (eyes pinched shut, teeth gritted so tight they feel ready to crack) against the pull of gravity where it drags against healing flesh and bone, he manages not to scream. Sputters, struggling where his breath catches hard in his throat, straining out a few choked-off noises before his sight comes back. Dazed, vision riddled with spots, but he recognizes the uniform streaked with red at Kylo Ren's feet: Resistance. This is-- was a resistance base, maybe even the one he visited before, and dread sinks to the base of his stomach like a stone.]
--what did you do?
[To Rey, to Poe-- to all the people here he'd liked via merit of being the exact opposite of the First Order and its sickening addiction to control without mercy. They'd have ruined him if he stayed (he didn't run for anything less than the threat of reconditioning, the horror of watching innocent civilians die without justification, Slip's shaking fingers still tacky with blood...) he didn't know how, exactly, but he knew it was coming for him even before he grabbed Poe's cuffed arm and bolted. Now? Now his life, his sanity, all pales in comparison to the idea that everyone else's might be at risk.]