Always on my mind
See it in my eyes.
Won't let me sleep
When I lay down at night.
I'm addicted to the thought of you.
Can't say goodbye
That's what it's like
Chasing Stardust.
A couple years before Poe's mom died, his aunt, the sister of his mom, came home from an injury. She, too, fought in the Galatic War, ranking high in the command.
But a blaster shot to her torso made her quit fighting, much to her dismay.
Poe didn't mind it, however, having his aunt there. They were close. Once she recovered enough to fly, she would take him up to the sky with her old x-wing that she got to keep.
Having been raised by his aunt while he was young, Poe learned a lot of things he knows now from her.
The biggest lesson his aunt ever taught him, something she'd always say to him, is that family is always there for you. She'd tell him that if he ever needed anything, to always come to her.
And he had done so, quite a few times actually. She's the reason he got off of Kijimi, but that's a whole other story.
A little before his mom passed away, his aunt left to go on a mission to help out an old friend. But she ended up meeting a guy there, who is now his uncle, there, and she went with him to traveled the galaxy.
He hadn't seen his aunt for a while now. But after he crashed the stolen tie fighter and woke up not able to find his stormtrooper friend, she was the first person he thought of to go to.
So as quickly as he could, he made his way into the nearest town to hitch a ride to his aunt's home.
8==<\/>==8 | |
Poe's Point of View
"Poe...?" The short, dark haired woman asks as soon as she opens the front door. "What are you doing here?" She asks, visible confusion etched across her face.
"Taking my Aunt's advice. Always to come to family when all else fails." I mutter, exhaustion still clinging to me from what I've endured from recent events.
"Oh Poe..." Aunt Mirah sighs. I meet her eyes with my own, and she looks at me with something of pity or sadness, but I can't tell which it is. She reaches out, grasping me gently by my sleeve.
"Come inside, hurry, let's get you cleaned up my sweet boy." She says as she begins ushering me inside, pulling me gently by my arm.
She leads me through her and my Uncle's house, and I spot him in their living room, clad in his usual armor. I'm too tired to acknowledge him verbally, I don't really know what to say to him in the first place. I just tip my head down in a nod of acknowledgement, and he does the same.
I'm led to the refresher by my Aunt, and immediately she's getting stuff out, no doubt for my injuries. She's always been like that, the one to fix me up when I need healing.
But I think I need more mental healing rather than physical healing, yet I let her do her thing.
She wets a washcloth in silence, making sure the water is warm.
I'm standing to her side, somewhat awkwardly as I wait, and once she turns around with the cloth in her hand, she gives me a reprimanding look, pointing to the counter.
"Sit." She demands.
I silently obey, but only lean against it, knowing she wouldn't be able to reach me if I were on the counter. Aunt Mirah walks up to stand about a foot away, raising her hand that holds the cloth up to my temple, but pausing before she presses it against me.
"This might sting, but I need to wash the blood off to see the injuries better." She says, about to press it on my head, but pausing once more.
Get it done already.
"I'm sorry in advance."
My eyes close the instant the cloth touches my face, the water feels good against my hot head, and I'm only now realizing how hot I feel. Must be infected.
Some of the water dribbles down the side of my face, no doubt leaving streaks down my face from the water washing away all of the dirt and grime I've accumulated.
Aunt Mirah works in silence, just like she always does when she's treating an injury. It gives me a sense of familiarity, something I've been craving.
It gives me a sense of home.
I feel her hand pause, but she doesn't remove the cloth. I open my eyes, instantly meeting her eyes.
Her gaze is soft and caring, much like my mothers was. Her eyes harden as they flash to the gash on my head, and I stay silent as she scans my face with concentration and concern.
She puts down the wet cloth, replacing it with bacta spray, and I try to ignore the thought of what comes next
With her eyes soft once more, now looking between my eyes, Aunt Mirah huffs out a sigh.
"I know you know this hurts like a bitch. Sorry again." She says.
I don't respond to her words, only nodding, giving her the go ahead.
The spray is cold on my forehead, and the stinging and burning sensations spreads throughout my head and down to my neck, leaving chills in its place.
I bite my lip from the pain, but forgot about the cut I have on the lower lip, and feel it crack back open, the smell and taste of blood soon following it.
Aunt Mirah notices it bleeding, and grabs the wet cloth, dabbing it on my lip. She drops the cloth into the sink once done, but her hands reach back up, cupping both sides of my face.
"What happened to you, my sweet boy?" She asks quietly.
Her words were soft, caring, and concerned. But instead of replying, my numb resolve fades, and the pain and tears I've been holding back this whole time all surface at once, and I break.
I feel her arms wrap around my neck, pulling my head into the crook of her neck as sobs wrack my body.
And I finally let it all out.
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So we know his uncle wears Armour... any guesses??? Also did y'all catch where they live? 👀
