Poe Dameron was lying on his bunk in the barracks, hands in his hair, picking sand from the scalp of his head. He had been released from the Medical Bay just yesterday, after two days of being pumped with fluids and generally not moving. His wounds had been stitched up, he had spent some time in a machine that left him walking away with new pink skin that replaced his painful burns, and was handed a bottle of antibiotics to take for the next three weeks.

Medical had taken away his burns, his scrapes, his infection, and even most of his pain, but he could not seem to get rid of this damn sand. It got everywhere! His hair, his eyebrows, creases in his skin – he would wake up in the morning, get out of bed, and would see it on his sheets. He had taken more showers in the past three days than he normally did in a week, and he was still finding sand. He really hated sand. He would never go to a beach again. He would definitely steer away from desert planets too.

But worse than the sand, he couldn't get the masked man out of his head. Kylo Ren. Man really knew how to leave an impression.

It didn't help that Poe hadn't been able to do anything to keep his mind occupied elsewhere. He gave his full report an hour after being released from Medical. This time he was able to articulate his words, explain through a clenched jaw his captor's abilities, and once again dishearteningly admit that the First Order knew about the map to Skywalker. The good news was that he had escaped before they could pull out any more important Resistance secrets. At least he thought so. It was hard to tell when someone else was riffling through your memories. After being reassured that BB-8 was being searched for, he had been dismissed. But that had been it. No new mission briefings, no meetings in Command, not even any flying. He was currently grounded.

But the grounding really was his doing. Poe had been cleared medically, but there were other protocols in place. Any soldier who had been captured, stranded behind enemy lines – or had any other traumatizing experience – had to be cleared by the base's psych doctor before they were deemed fit for duty. A head doctor. Someone else to rifle through his mind. Great.

In his past, Poe had had a few sessions with the man named Dr. Reese – once a year was their standard plus Poe had survived a few crash landings in his career. His squad had reported him KIA on more than one occasion. And when he came walking through the doors a few days later, people were genuinely shocked. Coming back from the dead was considered traumatizing, so he had reported to Dr. Reese a few times. It normally wasn't something Poe was worried about. Chat a bit about his experience, smile, be clear there was no mental trauma (normally there really wasn't), and in no time he was cleared for the skies.

But this time, Poe was a bit weary to say the least. After Kylo Ren, he was pretty set on people poking around in his head for the rest of his life. And yeah, Dr. Reese didn't actually get inside his head like his captor did, but it was the same principle. Plus, he had to admit, if he did buck up the courage to go, he wasn't so sure he would be cleared for duty. He wasn't sleeping well, he'd had a few nightmares when he was in Medical that the doctors had seen him wake from in a panic, he had lost a few hours of his days and been found wondering the base not entirely sure how he'd gotten there, and the fact that he was worried about a psych doctor because it reminded him of his mind probing may raise some red flags.

Poe had tried to go around this little detail that would deem him "fit for duty." Just that morning he had tried to take his black X-Wing up in the air. He hadn't flown it since before his mission and never liked to let it sit for too long. But he was denied clearance to take off. They had actually threatened to shoot him down if he attempted! I guess even the best pilot in the Resistance had to go through the proper safety protocols of being cleared. Damn it. He had thought that maybe they would let him slide.

So there he sat, trying to rid his body of the aggravating, coarse sand one grain at a time while also bucking up the courage to pay Dr. Reese a visit. His mind wandered back to the masked man killing Lor San Tekka and then freezing him and the blast he had shot in place. That was pretty amazing. And pretty terrifying. He had turned back to look at the blue/white blast frozen and vibrating slightly, making sure what he had seen was real. It was. And right then, he knew he was in over his head.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts before his mind could wander any further into his experience with the First Order. "Damn it, Dameron. Pull yourself together," he whispered aloud. He needed to rid himself of these Kylo Ren hauntings as much as he needed to rid himself of the damn sand. These were the moments he really wished BB-8 was around to converse with. The droid always knew what to say. Despite his metal body, he had a surprisingly big, human heart.

Just then there was a knock at his door. Poe grumbled as he got up, tilting his head to the side and shaking his hand through his hair to knock out any loose sand (and bad memories) as he approached it. When the door slid back into the wall with a whoosh, he was a bit shocked to see General Organa standing before him. And he was pretty sure the shock was written all over his normally schooled face. Well, might as well add another extreme emotion to the list he'd recently come off to the General as. Desperate, wounded, weak, crazy - and now shocked.

"Ah..General Organa," he sputtered not knowing what to do or say, but his body automatically straightening up and stepping to attention.

"Commander Dameron, may I come in," she said coolly. Like these visits were totally normal. And although Poe knew General Leia Organa better than most, and she was known for being friendly with her soldiers, this was not normal. Not in the slightest.

Poe stood obstructing the entrance for a beat too long before the request registered. "Um, Yeah. Yes Ma'am. Of course." He said stepping aside and motioning her in, "Come in."

As the General stepped inside, he surveyed his room. It was actually relatively clean – they were military after all, not to mention Poe grew up in a military family. Besides his bunk being ruffled where he had just been lying, the only thing out of place was his roommate's sock drawer that remained open with a pair sticking out. Poe quickly walked over and shut it.

"Commander, I'm paying you a visit because we just received a call. We believe your BB unit has been spotted." General Organa was known for getting straight to the point.

"BB-8," he said almost breathlessly, "He's okay."

"We think so. We're gearing up to send a squadron in to retrieve him. It's likely the First Order also has heard of his appearance. To say the least, there's an interesting mix of people in the place he was seen."

Poe looked at her dumbly, trying to take it all in. BB-8 was spotted. He was okay. For now. A squadron was going in…

"I want you to lead that squadron." She finished, looking him square in the eye.

"Of course, Gener-"

"But I'm under the impression that you have yet to be cleared by Psych," she cut him off, her eyes going soft.

Well, now Poe was extremely embarrassed. He thought he had humiliated himself two days ago, when he had bursted in on her meeting in a panic, rambling incoherently, and the big finale – passing out in her office. But, evidently not. Because this took the cake. That pitying look. Poor, tortured Poe, too afraid to face the head doctor.

Poe opened his mouth hesitantly to respond, trying to cook up a good excuse. I've been busy. Nope. I forgot. Yeah, right. I don't want someone else going through my head. That was on point, but not what he wanted to admit.

Before he could make a further fool of himself, Leia continued. "You know, I too was captured once. Hid stolen information vital to the Rebellion in a droid, just like you."

Poe nodded once, not quite meeting her eyes.

"I was tortured too. Saw my home planet blown up right in front of me."

Poe wanted to feel sorry for her, and he truly did. But he found himself blurting out, "But you still didn't break."

"Poe," the General approached him, placing her hand on his shoulder and he felt that same soothing feeling traveling into his body that he had a few days before when the General had taken his hand. She shook her head, and made the taller man meet her gaze, "Poe, you didn't break. I know what he's capable of. I'm so sorry."

Poe knew the General meant Kylo Ren, why she hadn't addressed him by name he didn't know. He also wasn't sure why she was apologizing. But, when he thought about it, everyone did when they felt uncomfortable for someone elses pain. Countless people had spoken the same words to him the past three days. Though, her apology felt more genuine than the others. Maybe it was because she had sent him on the mission. Thought he could handle it. He had thought that too. Until a gloved hand hovered in front of his face and he swore it reached inside his skull and ripped his mind to pieces…

"Poe," she said again, regaining his attention. "It's okay to be affected by this. You're not the same person as when you last left this base. Dr. Reese knows that. Don't be afraid of him."

Poe nodded once, swallowing hard and blinking repeatedly. He didn't know why his eyes felt watery. God, all he needed was to cry in front of the General. That would get him the green card to fly for sure. After the last few days, he never thought he would wish such a thing, but he would give anything to be severely dehydrated right now.

The General also nodded and took her hand back. The warmth that had spread through Poe's body suddenly seized. Her features went serious again, back to the General Organa he knew. "Wheels up in an hour, Commander. I could really use our best pilot." And she turned and left the room without waiting for a response.

When the door slid shut behind her, Poe released a deep breath and brought his palms up to his eyes, digging at the pent up moisture and making his eyes hurt. He could be affected by this. Wheels up in an hour. He could be affected by this but still do his duty. He believed that, was sure he could fly without putting anyone, or himself, in anything but the obvious danger of being shot down by their enemies. But would Dr. Reese?

Not long after Leia had left his room, Poe found himself in the outskirts of the Med Bay, standing outside Dr. Reese's door. He had been in this location longer than he would have liked to admit, taking slow deep breaths, both hands on top of his head and elbow spread wide, as if he was trying to catch his breath after a workout. He could do this. This was nothing like the First Order's interrogation. Poe didn't have to give up any information he didn't want to. The doc wasn't going to reach in his head and pick through his memories, bringing forward his insecurities. This was just a regular conversation. About his feelings. About his inner thoughts. That would be analyzed and calculated and thrown back in his face…

Poe shook his head and dropped his arms to his sides, giving them a shake as well. The longer he stood outside of this door, the more like he felt he would never enter it. Closing his eyes, he reached out one arm and knocked. He was no coward. He could do this.

The response was almost immediate. Before Poe's arm even dropped to his side he heard a voice respond, "Come in." And the door slid open on its own accord.

Poe hesitantly stepped inside. Dr. Reese sat at his desk, files stacked neatly on either side of him and a data pad sitting in the center holding the doctor's attention. He was still bent over the pad, eyes looking down his long nose and finishing up whatever work he had been doing before Poe interrupted.

"Dr. Reese," Poe said not quite meeting his eyes as the man straightened up and regarded his visitor. "I know this is short notice and I don't mean to interrupt," he motioned toward the stacks of papers, "you're obviously very busy…" he trailed off.

The doctor sat back in his chair, sensing Poe's discomfort but refusing to interrupt as the pilot clearly wanted him to.

Poe took a deep breath and dove in, as he would any dog fight he faced.

"I wanted to know if you could do my psych eval now? There's a mission about to take place, wheels up within the hour – and I would like to be up there with my squad."

Dr. Reese nodded, motioning him in. "Have a seat," he indicated the worn wooden chair in front of him.

Poe walked over and gingerly sat down. Despite its hard appearance, the chair was surprising comfortable. The worn down wood was smooth and the rounded high back seemed to hug whoever sat in it. So different from that interrogation table he was strapped too. That had been cold metal, the cuffs had dug uncomfortably into his wrist and ankles…He quickly cut off his wandering thoughts again. "Shut it down." He said to himself.

Dr. Reese had pushed his data tablet to the side and removed his glasses, quickly rifling through a stack of folders. "Umm," Poe began awkwardly, "I'm Commander Poe Dameron." He didn't have an appointment, and there were so many people on base he didn't expect the single psych doctor to remember him.

The doctor smiled as he pulled a folder from the stack. "I remember, Poe. I've been expecting you," he said as he opened it.

Unlike the rest of the base, the Psych department was very informal. No ranking titles were used, only first names. Poe figured they wanted to keep the meetings personal. Regard the patient in front of them as an individual life form, and not just a soldier. It was a little disconcerting. Right now Poe would love to be looked at as just another number - just another body to throw up in the skies and provide cover fire. Pilot identifier RS-001. Just sign my papers please, and I'll be off to likely die with the rest of the numbers out there.

Finally settling back against his chair again with the file now open, Dr. Reese met Poe's dark eyes and asked, "Now tell me, Poe, why do you want to go on this mission?"

Well that was an easy one. He had expected, "What was it like to have a man rifle through your private thoughts? Did you feel exposed? What about that crash? You killed a man that helped you escape, didn't you? How do you feel now? I've heard you've been having nightmares? What are your thoughts on your actions of betraying the Resistance, even though you claim it was out of your control? Your thoughts on betraying your most trusted friend? You consider your droid to be your most trusted friend?"

Why did he want to go? Poe took a deep breath and spoke, "To finish the mission I started. To get back in my own ship. To get my droid back... And my squad needs me up there," he pointed up toward the sky and shrugged, "I can't let them down."

Dr. Reese never broke the pilot's eye contact as he gave his short and concise answer. His eyes seemed to bore deep into Poe's, and Poe tried not to back down but he eventually did look away at the floor. Still, he felt the doctor's eyes upon him. Taking in his bruised face, the stitched cut over his eyebrow, the dark circles under his eyes. Poe thought about bowing out right there. This man wasn't going to clear him. Poe did not look the part of the young, confident pilot he had just one week ago. He couldn't even keep the man's eyes contact! He had broke under Kylo Ren's interrogation. He had crashed the TIE fighter. He was broken. He had crashed.

No. That wasn't him. He was the Resistance's most daring pilot. He could fly anything. He was his father's son – a soldier through and through. He was his mother's son – a damn good pilot. Swallowing hard, Poe lifted his face back up and regained the eye contact he had avoided a moment before.

The doctor nodded, "Alright then. You're cleared, Poe."

Poe looked at him dumbly. "What?"

Shit. He had said that out loud. He should have nodded, smiled, and walked out the door – but he was so shocked he had spoken his uncertainty. He was such an idiot. There goes that clearance. Might as well have broken into tears and rolled around on the floor. That sounded like a great idea now that it didn't matter. He was going to be grounded now for sure.

The doctor's gaze softened, "I read your report, Poe." He glanced down at the folder in front of him before looking back up at the Commander. "I know why you've been avoiding this meeting."

Poe looked down at his shoes guiltily. He couldn't find it in himself to deny it. The doctor had all the facts laid out in front of him and he was a smart man – he could easily put two and two together.

"I'm not going to force anything out of you, Poe. I want you to know that you're safe here. This is not an interrogation. Anything you want to talk about, I want you to say on your own accord."

Poe nodded once, still looking at his shoes.

"All I wanted you to do was find it in yourself to come to this psych eval and give me a good answer as to why you want to get back out there. That speaks worlds about you mental health, Poe. You're a strong man. You're cleared for the mission."

Poe finally looked up, a small smile gracing his face. He hadn't had something to smile about in a while. "Thank you, doc."

Dr. Reese nodded once and picked up his pen to quickly sign his name on the indicated line. He handed the pink paper to Poe as the pilot stood from his chair.

Before he released the paper he met Poe's eyes one more time. "Poe, if you want to come back here and talk about anything, that door is open. But it's up to you. Whenever you're ready. You're safe here. You remember that."

Poe couldn't find it in himself to talk. He nodded and channeled his gratitude through his eyes as he took the paper, swiftly turning around and heading in the direction of the tarmac.

Though a rush of emotions was running through him – relief, exhaustion, happiness, anxiety – he steeled himself as he jogged down the halls toward the pilot locker rooms, where one of his flight suits awaited him. It was time to get back in his ship. It was time to get BB-8 back. He had promised he would come back for him, and he meant to keep that promise.

Before he knew it, he had turned in his clearance to command, receiving a small smile from General Organa herself, and he was walking toward his black T-70 X-wing in his bright orange flight suit. This felt right. Almost. It would feel more right when BB-8 was once again riding behind him. He climbed the familiar ladder, settled into the pilot's seat and began his takeoff procedures – warming up the engines, entering coordinates, pulling on his helmet, activating his comms and letting the chatter of his squadron fill his ear.

"Black Leader, standing by," he stated, and the chatter immediately stopped, before quickly picking back up.

"I was wondering what insane pilot would take on the Leader role of this squadron."

"Good to have you back, Commander."

"No one crazy enough but you to lead us, Dameron."

Poe closed his eyes for a moment and smiled, the stress pouring out of him as his cockpit hatch locked with a hiss. Sure, he could fly anything. But flying this X-wing with these people was more than anything, it was everything. This right here was home. And all he was missing was his orange and white BB unit. But that, he was planning to quickly change.

The End

Authors Note: If you stayed through to the end, thanks for reading! So much! Not even kidding, it means the world! All mistakes are mine (God knows I can edit this 30 times and there are still many). I own nothing that pertains to this universe. Sorry for the mild swearing, but Poe it s grown man after all. This took a little longer than expected seeing as life interferes, but I've been chopping away at it little by little every chance I got. I wanted to bring the ending around full circle, and hopefully I succeeded. Please review if you read, so I know someone read it! Thanks again!

-Dani