Poe Dameron [One-Shots]

#1 He Knew

Poe didn't know what to feel. He was just numb. He knew he should feel something, but he was just too shocked to do anything other that stare at the empty hangar. Well it wasn't empty, not really. His X-wing was there, so were several other fighters, and transport ships. But compared to how full the hangars usually were, it was empty. And he knew it was his fault. At least that is what he told himself.

There were several members of his squadron that he would never see again and suddenly the pain hit him. He hadn't really been expecting it, but it hit him anyways. He couldn't explain how it felt, but he knew his chest was going to implode. It was just so empty. He felt like he had ripped his own heart out.

His squadron was his family and he had led them straight into the grip of the First Order. They had managed to escape with the Resistance still intact, but their numbers were so small, that they really could fit everyone onto one or two transports. He knew he had let them down. He knew...

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, trying to shut out the pain that was threatening to drown him. He wanted to run away from it all. He wanted to leave all of his pain behind, disappear, and never see pain again.

He knew if he didn't find a way to escape the pain he would crumble.

He rubbed his face with his hands and sighed. He glared at his fighter. Why? he asked himself. Why do I have to be the best? Why can't I just follow orders?" He knew he would never get an answer.

He wanted to forget about everything. The past few weeks had been hell, and he didn't want to think about it ever again. But every time he closed his eyes he could see the ships being blown apart. He knew the markings on every ship. He knew who was piloting every single one of them. They were his friends. They were his family. And everytime saw a fighter, a transport, even an astromech droid, he remembered. He knew that he would never forget.

He got up and walked out of the hanger on the outdoor landing strip. He looked up and saw the stars shining. He knew that out there some day was the end of this damn war, and he knew he had to help it happen.

He knew what he was going to do when it was all over. He was gonna leave. He was gonna leave and never look back. He was sick of his friends dying. He was sick of being in charge and ordering people to their deaths. People who trust him with their lives. Well that was their mistake. He thought morbidly. And then he took it back. He didn't want to think of his family like that. He grimaced and ran a hand through his sloppy curls.

He knew what life would be like when they beat the First Order. General Leia would go back to the senate and do her best to root out the corruption that ultimately infiltrates every government. Most all of the pilots and droids would go back to working for the New Republic Navy. But what would he do? What did he want?

He wanted peace. Ya, that sounds good right about now. Peace and quiet. He shook his head. He never thought he would be saying this to himself. Since when did Poe Dameron want peace and quiet? He was the best pilot in the whole kriffing Resistance!

A ragtag group of fighters flew over the base completing a night drill, and his mind jumped back to his squadron. There were only a few of them left. And the pain came back. It sat on his chest and threatened to break him. His breath came in ragged gasps and he fell to his knees at the edge of the pavement. Tears started to roll their way silently down his cheeks and suddenly he knew... he didn't want to die. He didn't want anyone to die.

This realization shocked him. He never really thought about it before. But he supposed that being responsible for the death of hundreds of people forces one to re-evaluate their life. He knew he deserved more than a temporary demotion. He deserved a court-martial, or worse even. Ya, he knew he definitely deserved worse.

He rolled his hands into fists and squeezed as hard as he could, trying to regain control of his breathing. He looked back up at the stars and decided that one day, when this was all over he was going to find some beautiful uninhabited planet and live there for the rest of his days, alone, where he couldn't hurt anybody else.

He knew that out there somewhere was peace. He just had to look harder.

He heard laughter coming from inside the hangar. His breathing calmed and he realized that he had work to do. He knew it was childish, but he wanted to run. And he knew he had to stay.

He had been fighting this war for his entire life. It was in his blood. And someday, like his parents had, he was gonna settle down and have a real life, with a real family. He looked back towards the stars again and he knew... someday.

He wiped the tears off of his face, ran his fingers through his hair, attempting to hide the fact that he had just had a melt down. He walked back to the base, studying his feet. He made it to the hangar doors when a blast of air blew out towards him. The hangar smelled like a mixture of oil, fuel, and engine exhaust fumes. And it reminded him again that there was work to do. He knew he had a job. Just like everyone else here knew they had a job.

He knew that he had to stop dwelling on what had happened. On what he had done. He knew it was his own fault that the Resistance lost so many good men and women. He knew that nothing anyone would ever say could convince him otherwise, but he also knew that he had to move on. He had a job to do.

He stopped outside the hangar doors waiting for something, he wasn't sure what though. He looked inside at the leftover ships. They were battle scarred. And he heard the laughter again. He found the source in the far corner of the large room. A group of pilots drinking to their dead friends. No... family. he thought. Not just friends.

He knew the reason he was here. He had hope. Or at least he had thought he had hope. He wasn't so sure any more. But he would find it again. He knew it.

He sucked in a deep breath and squared his shoulders with renewed energy. He knew he had to. He had no choice. Keep going. Don't stop. Don't back down. Hope. Fight. Win.

He realized at that moment that he was right where he needed to be. Pain be damned, he knew he had a purpose, and it was here, fighting, leading. A sad smile tugged at his lips. He looked at the stars one last time before he sighed and stepped back into the hangar. He found his peace right where he was supposed to be. Here. He still felt the pain like a weight pressing down on his chest but he was home and he knew it.

Wow...

This is probably the deepest thing I have ever posted...

I'm not even sure what to say right now...

Disclaimer- I do not own Star Wars or any included characters. This is purely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of anyone who may take pleasure in reading it.