Poe opened his eyes for the first time that morning, just to close them in the next second with a painful moan. The dazzling light was like a sharp blade stabbing his head and causing a throbbing headache. He rubbed his temple, trying to ease the pain and decided to just lay there motionless for a minute. He hoped the headache would pass soon, but as expected his waiting was proven to be pointless.
He heard a series of questioning beeps as BB-8 rolled closer to his bed.
"Just a little headache, buddy," Poe replied to calm his little friend.

The last time he felt like this was the morning after he had a few glasses of Jessica's infamous alcohol, which she got as a thank-you gift from the villagers of an other planet. He was hung-over for three days; and to make matters worse he had to listen to BB-8's disapproving whistles for a week. That was almost a year ago and since then he hadn't even touched anything that would put him in such a terrible condition. One time was more than enough for him.

BB-8 waited by Poe's bedside, signaling to Poe that it was time to get out of bed. Headache or not, he had a lot to do today. The next week they were planning a series of attacks on a bigger base of the First Order and General Organa and the other officers were holding a briefing about the details today. After that he had to work on some repairs on Black One. In addition to all of that, he had to brief his team of pilots regarding their upcoming missions. In short, he couldn't allow himself to be taken down by a headache. As he got up and his feet touched the floor, waves of pulsing pain rushed through his head.

"This is gonna be a hell of a long day," he sighed to himself.

For Poe it felt like the briefing was going to last forever. He attempted to listen and focus on what was being told, but after a while the throbbing from his head slowly crawled down his neck causing such intense pain that he had to bite down on his lip to hold back his moans of pain.
At last, General Organa dismissed them and Poe tried to leave the room as soon as possible to away without talking to anyone. It was precisely when he reached the briefing room's exit that he heard the General's voice.

"Commander Dameron! A word please?"

Poe tried to put on his 'everything is just fine' expression before he went back to the General.
Leia waited until everybody left the room before continuing.
"Commander, I couldn't help but notice, that you aren't feeling so well." She looked at him knowingly.

Poe swallowed hard. "It's just a little headache, General. Nothing more."

He was terrible at lying, everyone knew that. He had to try anyway. If he told the General that he felt like someone was ripping the muscles off his neck every time he moved, he'd be sent to the medical bay. He didn't have time for all those check ups today… or anytime soon if he's being honest. Right now nothing could be more important than the fulfillment of his duties as a Commander.
Leia observed her favorite pilot with a look of doubt on her face.
"Are you sure?" she asked with a probing look.
"Yes," Poe answered stubbornly. The General knew that he was lying but he lied anyway.
"Alright then ," she sighed after a few seconds, "but if your headache doesn't go away by tomorrow morning I would like you to go to the med bay.
"Understood, General," Poe was about to leave, when Leia gently touched his arm.
"That's an order, not a request, Commander. We cannot lose our best pilot because he was too stubborn to go to the med bay and have himself checked," she said, directing her pointed look at him.

Before walking to the hangar, Poe passed through an empty hallway and could not help but lean against the wall. He shut his eyes and tried to fight the aching pain spreading throughout his whole back now. Every breath he took sent new waves of pain from his throbbing head all the way down his spine. To make matters worse, he was beginning to feel cold. This was ridiculous, he couldn't even remember the last time he was chilly and yet now he was nearly shivering from the cold he felt.

No, he couldn't be sick. There was way too much at stake and everybody was counting on him. He couldn't fail them. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't even notice BB-8 until the little droid bumped his leg for attention.

"Hey, buddy," Poe greeted his friend with a tired, half-smile on his face. BB-8 chirped his concern as he observed his master from head to toe.

"Nah, I'm fine."

The droid let out a series of sarcastic beeps.

"Really, I'm fine," Poe tried to convince his friend, but the droid knew him way better than to believe him. BB-8 chirped sternly at his master swiveling his head to show his annoyance but Poe just waved his concern away.

"I said it's nothing. I've got tons of things to do today, I really don't have time to rest."

But BB-8 was a determined little droid and didn't give up so easily. The droid changed his method and this time he let out a series of pleading beeps and nudged his master's leg. Poe sighed resignedly.

"Alright, alright," he said as he rubbed his aching temple. "After I do the repair work on Black One, I'll go to my room and take a nap before the next briefing. Satisfied?"

In response the droid beeped a series of cheerful, content notes.

His Black One was waiting for him at the other end of the hangar. He ran his fingers on the side of the orange-black X-wing fighter. Poe hoped that working on his beloved fighter would help him to forget about the throbbing pain in his body. He slowly walked off to the storage room to grab his tools. He knew he was being followed and closely monitored by the unusually quiet BB-8.

As Poe bended down to lift his toolbox he felt a sudden, burning pain on his back. He couldn't help but cry and fall to his knees. It felt as if waves of electric currents were flowing through his neck and entire back.

BB-8 hysterically rolled around him letting out high-pitched whines and screams.
"It's okay, buddy," Poe hissed through clenched teeth. "I'm gonna be okay."
He closed his eyes and tried to keep his voice from shaking. "Just give me a few seconds."

BB-8 made a soft, concerned sound as he watched his master struggling. Poe took a deep breath and attempted to stand up on his own only to fall right back on his knees. He flinched at the impact, as his knees hit the ground again he felt shockwaves throughout his body. He bit down on his lip so hard that he began to notice a metallic taste in his mouth, his blood.
"I might need your help, buddy," his voice was thick with pain. BB-8 rolled even closer, and positioned himself so Poe could lean on him. With the help of his little friend eventually Poe managed to stand up.
"Thanks," he whispered with a weak smile on his face as he looked down at his loyal droid.
BB-8 made a quiet sound in response. Poe waited until his heartbeat steadied and his breathing slowed before he took a step towards his toolbox. BB-8, knowing what his master was up to, rolled between Poe and his tools in one quick roll.
"Hey! I need my tools BB-8!"

The droid rolled his head, as if copying a human rolling his eyes, and let out a series of angry beeps.
"I can do it," Poe said with a little impatience in his voice.

BB-8 made a short, skeptical sound, let out his mechanic arm, grabbed the toolbox and dragged it out of the storage towards the fighter.

In spite of his pain, Poe laughed a little. BB-8 never ceases to amaze him.

By the time Poe got back to Black One, the toolbox was next to his fighter but BB-8 was nowhere to be seen.
"Buddy, where are you? I'm sorry I snapped at you," he called out, but there was no response in the otherwise empty hangar. As he turned around he felt a sudden dizziness and had to hold onto to the wing of his fighter to stand upright. He was feeling exhausted as hell, but at least he wasn't feeling cold anymore. To his surprise he was feeling pretty warm at the moment. He waited a minute until his dizziness went away, then, trying not to cause any more pain to his aching back, carefully he took off his jacket and threw it on the toolbox. Sweat was dripping down on his face, and his hair plastered to his forehead as he slowly walked to his X-Wings ladder. He climbed up to the cockpit and sat down.

"Get yourself together, Dameron," he muttered to himself. He had to admit this wasn't just any ordinary headache. He was, without a doubt, sick. It felt like his whole body was on fire, and the stabbing pain in his head and back worsened with every minute. But it didn't matter. It couldn't matter. There was too much depending on him, things that were more important than him. He couldn't fail the Resistance.

He took a deep breath, got on his feet and began to make his descent down the ladder. In a split second, he knew he made a horrible mistake. Suddenly, he felt dizzy once more, and the world around him went dim and the drum of his own heartbeat echoed loudly in his ears. His legs felt weak but he managed to grab the side of the ladder before he could topple onto the floor. Through his heavy breathing he heard a series of familiar beeps. He looked up, and even through his blurry vision he recognized the frantically beeping BB-8 rolling towards him at full speed. There was someone else running behind the droid, but he couldn't recognize her, until he heard her voice.
"Poe!" the girl shouted desperately as she ran towards him.

His lips moved, trying to say her name, but no sound came out. His eyelids were heavy, too heavy to keep them open. He felt like all his strength left his body and he couldn't hold onto the ladder anymore. His fingers began to slip off the ladder step, the only thing that kept him still standing. The world slowed down around him as he was falling. There was no pain in his body anymore, only the soft calling of darkness. He shut his eyes and waited for the inevitable impact, an impact that never came. Gentle arms took hold of him and carefully laid him down on the welcoming cold floor. The last thing he saw before his eyes shut and he lost consciousness was Rey's hazel eyes.