The Flight Before Us | FanFic/Damarey/ Before Ep 9

Chapter 9

"What are we doing here?"

"Looking like heroes and convincing people that they want to be as awesome and brave as us," Poe answered.

Rey rolled her eyes and glared at Poe.

He shook his shoulders. "One of us, anyway."

She looked toward the door again.

Behind it, like so many other cities in the different planets of the Corellian system, were countless people waiting.

They wanted to volunteer to help see the end of the First Order, but more than that, they wanted a glimpse of her...

The Jedi.

The hero.

The girl who was rumored would bring an end to Kylo Ren.

She shivered.

"You okay?" Poe asked.

"Yeah," she said automatically.

He sighed. "You know, I can tell when you're lying..."

"I'm not," she shot back.

He turned to her. "Yes you are. You don't even know you are. Look, I know this has been a lot of pressure and a lot of people who expect you to be..."

He trailed off, but she answered. "Everything I'm not."

He sighed. "Just because you're not the hero that they're expecting doesn't mean that you aren't one. You are."

She looked towards him, briefly, feeling him trying to probe her mind. She pushed back a bit.

"What am I missing? There's something that's been bothering you all day... like a shadow."

She shook her head. "Less like a shadow and more like a ghost," she said.

Flashes hit her mind.

The dashes on the wall made with metal scratching against rusty steel.

The ship taking off of Jakku and her screaming "Come back!"

Her arm being pulled away.

The dashes... writing again.

Twelve years.

She pulled back, put barriers in her mind.

But not fast enough.

She heard Poe curse under his breath.

"Today?"

She blinked rapidly, trying to hid her emotion, angry that they had become so close that she couldn't hide anything from him anymore.

"Yes," she admitted. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does," he said, "And it doesn't."

She bit her lip, almost not wanting to get into an emotional or any other kind of debate right before she had to speak in public.

He kept speaking, not waiting for her to ask. "It matters because you should be able to feel sad. To mourn. To feel lonely. But then... it doesn't. Because you should also know that it doesn't define you."

She looked at him now, convinced he somehow could see right through her despite how hard she tried.

He hesitated, his breath catching. He couldn't say what he wanted to say, so instead he said, "You're defined by every day. Every day that you live now... every breath, everything you fight for...now. That defines you."