Chapter One

"You seem nervous, son."

Poe turns from his pacing, shakes his head as he continues walking the opposite direction. "Of course I am. Weren't you?"

Kes Dameron smiles, his salt and pepper beard neatly trimmed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Not really," he says, and doesn't that make Poe feel even worse? His dad can not only see right through him, but he's got nerves of durasteel as well.

"Thanks for the support," Poe mutters. He stops and adjusts his dress uniform again, pulling at the sleeves and straightening his belt. There's even some medals, and it all feels wrong, like he's dressed up, pretending to be something he's not. It's probably the tenth time he's fussed with it, but it's something he can do besides pace, stare out the window at the city, or fly apart at the seams. None of which are particularly befitting his position, or, apparently, his family name.

"I'm old," Kes says. "Maybe I only remember the good parts."

"You're not that old, dad," Poe tells him, and when Kes gives him a skeptical look, he laughs. "Your words, then, not mine."

His father is uncannily calm, as if he does this sort of thing all the time, when as far as Poe knows, Kes has only done it once himself. Couldn't he at least be nervous for his only son?

"I feel old," Poe says quietly. "Too old for this. Too late."

"It's never too late," Kes tells him. "And you're never too old. You've been busy, Poe. Busy making sure this moment was possible. For you, for Finn, for millions of other beings across the galaxy."

"I know," Poe says. He runs a hand through his hair, because it feels unnatural, slicked back neatly instead of falling over his face, fresh from an X-wing helmet. His father rolls his eyes and tucks it back, like Poe is ten again. He playfully swats his dad's arm away and continues pacing.

"You've earned this, Poe," his father tells him. "More than anyone Iknow. You deserve a chance to live with your own happiness now that you've earned it for everyone else."

"Logically, that makes sense," Poe tells him. "I've said the same thing to half the people I know. But it still feels…"

"Don't say wrong," Kes says sharply. "Because you'll regret it if you do."

"It doesn't feel wrong, dad," Poe says wearily. "Except for when it does. There's still so much to do, and what if—"

"Stop." Kes stands before him, quelling his nervous pacing with two strong hands on his shoulders. Poe gazes into eyes that are looking at him with both fondness and exasperation. "I know exactly what you're going to say. The war is over, son. No one is going anywhere."

Poe blows out a long breath, looks at the ground. "That's what we thought about mom," he says softly. He regrets his words almost immediately, because they are not words for a happy day, yet the look on his father's face is more understanding than sad.

"But we had all those years together until she left us," he says quietly. "And I don't regret that, Poe. I miss her, yes, but I wouldn't change anything."

"I know, I know," Poe says, waving his dad off to pace some more. It's a big day, he's entitled to a little anxiety, isn't he? He is glad his dad is there to talk him through it. Though when Kes crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow in that way he's had since Poe was a kid and had done something stupid, Poe wonders about that particular wisdom.

"If you know all these things, why are arguing with me then? Pacing up and down like a caged anooba about to be thrown to a Sarlaac?"

"Come on dad, I'm not that dramatic," Poe protests, and there's that look again. Okay, maybe he is. He can't help it. He's flown countless missions, crashed numerous times; he's faced down TIE fighters and Stormtroopers, criminals and diplomats and royal generals; he's been captured and tortured and watched friends die. And yet…this. This is different. All of those things he can lock away, compartmentalize as a part of his life that he doesn't need to think about anymore. The war is over. But now, a new life is beginning, and is some ways, that is just as frightening.

.

"What are you really afraid of, son?" Kes asks softly. Poe goes back to the window to try staring out at the city again. He's suddenly filled with a longing for Yavin 4. This isn't his home, this is a world with its own complicated history and issues. He's been on Chandrila for six months, but it feels less like home than D'Qar, or even Ajan Kloss. The dress uniform feels stiff and unnatural, even if he did manage to clean up his old boots well enough to forgo the shiny new ones. He'd rather be in his flight suit, maybe even in the cockpit of his X-wing, doing what he does best…

"What if it doesn't work out?" Poe blurts, turning back to his dad, who motions him over to a bench to sit. Poe reluctantly joins him, but his right leg bounces nervously.

"What if what doesn't work out?" Kes asks patiently.

"Everything!" Poe exclaims. He gestures vaguely around the room. "All of it. The Resistance, the Republic, living a whole new life that feels…"

"Yes?" Poe once again realizes how much patience his dad must have had to raise him and is thankful for it. "Feels what? Remember, don't say it feels wrong."

"But it does," Poe admits miserably. "Only not for the reasons you think."

"Let me guess," Kes says, leaning back and pretending to consider his answer. "You don't think you deserve this—any of it. You're scared of not living up to expectations, of failing at something so completely different than what you're used to doing."

Poe stares at him. "Is it that obvious?" he asks.

"No, it's normal," Kes says, patting his knee like a teenager and laughing. "I'm serious, son. Everyone feels like this, but in the end, it always works out the way it's supposed to. Fighting a war isn't natural, but living a normal life? Everyone can do that, in their own way. You deserve this, Poe. You deserve a happy ending."

Poe does not respond right away. "So you weren't nervous," he says. "Were you scared? Of not being good enough?"

"Pretty sure I never was good enough," Kes says, his voice deceptively light. "But you know what? I'm also pretty sure your mom felt the same way."

"How do you know?" Poe asks. Even after so many years, he loves it when his dad talks about his mom. In his mind, she is a shining beacon of love and strength, and knowing that his parents had the same doubts is oddly comforting.

"She was always apologizing," Kes says softly. "For still flying, still fighting, still looking to the stars. Only we both were, we couldn't leave the war until the fight was truly over. And then it was, so we did. It's over now, Poe. It's time to rebuild."

"Rebuild," Poe murmurs. "Dad, how do I rebuild something I never actually had?"

Kes stands and pulls him into an embrace. "But you did, Poe, and you're already doing it. You just get to make it more official now."

Poe holds him tight, doesn't want to let go. And as he stands there, he feels his nerves start to settle, or at least retreat to a place where he can manage them a little better. He thinks he hears something downstairs, several floors beneath them, but his face is pressed into his father's shoulder, and he breathes deep, trying not to worry about the future, but looking forward to it instead, despite his fears.

"Better?" Kes asks.

"I will be," Poe replies. "When this is all over."

Kes nods in understanding. "Do you have everything you need?"

"BB-8 does, yeah."

"And where is BB-8?"

"In charge of the music," Poe laughs. "I had to talk him out of lights."

Kes laughs with him. "Ready, then?"

"I—" Poe starts, but they are interrupted when the doors to his room crash open and Jessika Pava bursts in with Chewbacca right behind her.

"We've got to go!" Jess shouts, grabbing Poe's hand while Chewie takes Kes's arm. "Something's wrong."

"What?" Poe asks, momentarily confused as he's pulled out of the room. "Jess, what the hell is going on?"

Out in the hallway, he can hear the sound of fighting from downstairs, shouting and blasters and alarms, and Poe's blood runs cold. He pushes Jess toward his father instead and draws the weapon he put on with his dress uniform because he couldn't shake the habit. "Get him out of here. Stay with him, both of you."

"No, Poe!" she shouts, but Chewbacca is pulling her along now. "They're here for you. You and Finn."

"Best reason not to run," Poe says. "I'm not leaving him behind."

"He's with Rey, he'll be fine!" she calls. Poe rolls his eyes at her as he jogs backwards toward Rey's room.

"Then I'll check on her too!" he shouts. "Orders, Captain. Gamma code four zero three." Which had been their code for protecting an asset at any cost in the Resistance. His father is worth it.

Fortunately—and surprisingly—she doesn't challenge him, and she stays by his father and runs with Chewie down the hallway, away from the sound of fighting. "Poe!" Kes calls. "Be careful!"

"You too!" Poe shouts back. The fighting sounds louder below them, and he needs to be there, to help, to protect. "I'll see you when we're done! We'll reschedule the party!"

Because clearly, Poe is not getting married that day.

Author's Note:

Not too long ago I made a comment about Poe being a nervous groom at his wedding. And very quickly I realized –well, I need to write that, don't I? So I started. And very quickly, the wedding was interrupted. But I wasn't sure why. Then I knew, and it grew into my longest SW story yet. This is the introduction. Viewpoints alternate between Poe and Finn. And if you follow me on Tumblr— yes, BB-8 found his way into the story. I still can't believe I wrote so much without him. Thanks for reading! Updates will be every few days.