"Does it still hurt?" Rey asked as she wrapped a dirty cloth around Finn's bruised arm. The two had had quite a day. Running from TIE fire, escaping Stormtrooper custody, and then huddling for shelter in a cave that was too small for one, let alone too. The Jakku air was so dry that you could use it as fuel for a campfire.

"I'm fine," Finn said, trying to take his arm away from Rey's hands.

"Don't be ridiculous." Rey merely held tighter, "I saw one of those Stormtroopers nick you in the arm with blaster fire. If we don't treat it, it'll get worse."

"We don't have time for that now. We have to-"

"Listen," Rey said, "I've been here my whole life, I know this place inside and out." Rey wrapped her fingers around Finn's bulging arms. They were swollen from the wound, and dried specs of blood were obvious against Finn's dark skin. Fine was the one thing he was not.

Finn fidgeted, trying to keep his pride. Soldiers weren't meant to feel pain. If you get hurt, you keep going. He was shot, but he kept going. His legs were throbbing, but he didn't want to admit it.

"This would go a lot faster if you just held still," Rey said. "Honestly, it's as if you've never had anyone care for you."

Finn fell silent. Back with the First Order, Troopers didn't get patched up, and if some were lucky enough to warrant such treatment, it wasn't by the hands of a fellow sentient. No, it was always the cold monotone of a droid that couldn't care less. Finn almost hated the sick bay visits more than he did the battle field. At least when he fought, he could feel something. Fear. Hunger. Passion.

But now, with Rey's hands over his, her heat with his heat…he felt something else.

"They don't really patch up Troopers where I'm from," Finn said. "The Order doesn't have the resources for that. If you get shot, it's your own fault for failing."

Rey tightened the cloth with a firm tug, and leaned against Finn's shoulder. "That's terrible." Her voice was as sweet as May fruit, but as heavy as fog in a dark evening. "Don't they care?"

But Finn's hardened face, and pursed lips were answer enough…and it was an answer Rey wished she didn't have.

Growing up, Rey never knew what it was like to have a family. There was no father to bring her kisses. No mother to hold her when the sandstorms became too wild. Everything she had, she had to take herself. In her youth, she had believed the Stormtroopers were at least loyal to each other. A kind of pseudo-family that huddled together when the fighting became too bloody, and the nights grew too long.

But none of that was true.

"I was abandoned when I was a kid," she said. Rey curled her knees up to her chin, "I've never really had a family. Hell, I don't even know what a family is…or what it's supposed to do." Rey shrugged, trying to keep a cold distance from her own feelings. "All I have is myself."

It sounded so familiar, like a shared memory that couldn't be wiped away. Two people, alone in a galaxy that never wanted them to begin with.

"So, we're alone?" Finn asked.

"Yeah…we are." Rey moved closed, her chin against his shoulder. "But at least we're alone together."