Constellations

chapter one:
the first star

"Don't wait for the stars to align. Reach up, rearrange them the way you want them to be. Create your own constellation."
-Pharrell Williams

The snow is blinding.

It's the first thought that worms its way into Rey's disorientated brain, the white flurries swirling around her. Her vision is blurry at best, and she blinks a few times to clear it, her limbs sprawled across cool metal. The floor, she registers dimly. She's on the floor. And her head hurts. Everything hurts really, but especially her head.

The second is that the Millennium Falcon should definitely have a ceiling. Only, the metal plates are twisted open, silver against the whiteness of the snow and raised high towards pale blue sky. Snow is gathering along the metal floor, the small game table and booths. The cockpit, she thinks, forcing her brain to string a coherent sentence, is close by. The rest of the Falcon is stretching out to the other side of her head and it hurts too much to turn her neck, but she imagines it's in an equally rough condition.

What had happened? Rey strains her memory and can remember First Order TIE-Fighters firing, they hit something, something important. The ship had crash-landed, slamming into the snow with a force that had knocked her out of her seat, skidded, turned over, and slowly slide to a halt. She hadn't wanted to come on this mission, she remembers. She had only agreed because it was a direct order from her Jedi Master, Luke Skywalker. To find some ancient Jedi relic, some special, lightsaber, she guessed, stowed away on one of Hoth's three moons. Which one, he hadn't been sure.

Old people forget things, he had shrugged, and smiled good-naturedly.

You're not old! Rey had scoffed.

Now, she wonders if she's the old person who can't remember. Why hadn't she wanted to come on this mission? What had been so terrible about the assignment that had made her want to turn and run, just like she had on Takodana after touching Luke's lightsaber for the first time?

There's a weak groan of pain off to her left, so weak it's nearly carried away by the wind, but it rings in her ears, and she remembers exactly why she didn't want to come.

"Finn," she croaks, coughing. There's a bitter taste in her mouth. Dried blood? Her arms are aching as she pushes herself up from the floor, shaking as she squints through the snow and darkness. Of course, they had had to crash land at night. She feels like she has the worst luck in the galaxy sometimes, honestly.

"Rey," he says, and lifts his head. She's grateful for his dark skin, as it makes him easier to spot. He was cast further back out of the cockpit than her, and she feels worry crawl up her throat. She isn't sure if she's been injured or not, but what if he has? What if it's serious? Her knowledge of medicine is still pretty limited and Hoth - she's sure they've landed on the actual planet - is the opposite of her sandy, sweltering Jakku.

But he seems to be okay. Upon closer inspection her observation may be proven wrong, but for now it gives her a scrap of relief and she clings to it, startled when Finn pushes himself up onto shaking legs. Why is she more badly affected by the fall? Or is it his former Stormtrooper training kicking in?

He takes a wobbly step towards her and nearly slips on the metal floor, slick with snow and ice that's quickly forming. "Oh Rey," he looks distressed, his brow scrunching together, and somewhere in the back of her mind, close to the spot throbbing with pain, she thinks he looks cute. "Come on let's get you out of here."

"Am I hurt?" she asks, her words coming out surprisingly slow, like she has to properly chew each one before her lips can form it.

Finn winces, looking her up and down, and then tries for a winning smile she can see right through. "Nah, it's not that bad. You'll be fine."

She wonders just how bad it actually is and frowns at him, especially when she feels one of his arms skimming along her back, the other curling underneath the back of her knees. His arm is warm, and strong, and - is he picking her up? "Finn!" Her voice spikes and a roughness clouds her throat. She hacks into her arm and then swats at his broad chest with her hand much more lightly than she intends to. "I can walk perfectly fine!"

"Nu-uh," Finn says gently yet firmly, still with a trace of worry. "You need to take it easy Rey. I'm gonna bring you into the cockpit and then go look for supplies okay?"

"I can walk!" she insists. She had gotten used to letting Finn help her, even take care of her on the one occasion she had fallen ill, but that is in the past; she has to leave it behind. Rey shifts her body, grateful that Finn's still kneeling, and lowers her right leg and foot onto the floor. She stubbornly puts some weight on it. Pain flares and shoots up her leg, up her whole body, so intensely black dots dance in her vision. She never broke anything back on Jakku, but she thinks maybe she has now. Maybe, unfortunately, it is better to let Finn carry her.

Finn, to his credit, doesn't say I told you so, even if he does look a little smug. Instead, his eyes soften with concern as he brings her leg back towards him, and he raises his eyebrows in a wordless way of asking permission.

"Fine," Rey grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest. She knows when to admit defeat. "Carry me."

Finn lifts her gently, drawing her closer to his chest. Rey realizes just how cold she was before, and curls into his warmth, his steadiness. Part of her wishes she didn't feel so safe like this, wrapped up in his arms. She needs some kind of distraction, so she reaches up and combs her fingers through the messy buns on the back of her head, the lowest one having come undone in the crash, and feels a small patch of something warm and sticky. When she pulls her hand back, her fingers are smudged faintly with blood. No wonder her head hurts so much. She's never liked the sight of blood much, and closes her eyes to avoid it and lets her head rest against Finn's shoulder, turning her face into his chest. There's no point in trying to find a distraction, and besides, she's just doing this for a shield from the wind and snow, and for the warmth, she decides logically. No other reasons. Of course not.

Rey's glad that if either of them had to get hurt, it's her. She doubts she'll ever get the imagine of Finn's limp, bloodied body, motionless, out of her head. And the one of him after Kylo had ripped his back open with his lightsaber still haunts her, even after three years.

Rey cracks one eye open, looking up at Finn. She thinks dully, as he sets her down in the pilot seat with care, how strange is it to be back in the place where they first introduced themselves. They had run to each other, she remembers, words spilling out in a hurried rush of excitement. She had never spoken so much to one person in her life. How despite being strangers, they had so much to say. So many good things to say.

There's an odd look on Finn's face as he straightens after setting her down, and as he turns his back on her, she closes her eyes, not wanting to see him leave. Not wanting to remember how she left him.

Now, they're anything but strangers, yet also strangers again in some strange way, and she can feel the weight of everything they're not saying, hanging heavily in the air. She's glad she's alone. It makes it easier to think, and she's used to being alone with her thoughts. It was all she knew for 14 years on Jakku, after all, although she thinks it may be more dangerous, now, as her mind stretches back to earlier in the day...

Finn's changed, she realizes with a start. The hesitant, slightly nervous smile on his face is the same, but unlike before, she can't bring herself to return it. "You're taller," she says instead.

Finn's gaze leaves her face for a moment before returning. It's a more endearing habit than she remembered. "You're a full-fledged Jedi."

She nods, mulls over his words, and swallows. "Mostly, yes." Luke says she's not quite ready. That this mission will be an important step forward.

There's a lull, a silence, and for a moment she thinks he isn't going to say anything, that he's miraculously going to let the last time they talked to each other go, but then, "Rey, I stand by what I said."

"And so do I," she says firmly, perhaps a bit more harshly than she meant to. "I'm here to fulfill my mission, and that's it. I don't know why Master Luke has insisted you escort me."

Hurt flashes across Finn's face, his smile faltering. "Neither do I," he admits, shrugging. "But I'm glad."

Rey doesn't know what to say to that, and is grateful when Chewbacca ambles over and gives Finn a bone-crushing hug. It gives her a chance to let the blush staining her cheeks, the warmth flooding her face, fade. And, worse, the way her lips want to twitch upwards into a tiny smile...

Rey pushes the memory away and buries her face in the leather of the pilot's seat. Dwelling on the past, on what can absolutely not be changed, won't do either of them any good. Even if they are stranded on Hoth. She can hear Finn's footsteps along the ship over the wind, clanking along against the metal that hasn't been upended. Still, she worries when he's been out of her sight for at least 20 minutes.

You haven't see him in a year, and you've been just fine, she tells herself stubbornly. 20 minutes shouldn't make a difference, and certainly shouldn't make you worry.

"I found some warmer clothes and medical supplies," Finn announces, his voice echoing and reaching her ears before she can see him. He flashes her smile as he walks over, two thick brown coats in his arms with a white first-aid kit on top.

"You seem oddly happy for someone's who stranded on Hoth," she says, her voice still weak. Finn looks at her, and then away as he takes one of the coats and drapes it over her shoulders. Despite her better judgement, Rey stares at him. Is...is he happy because he's with her? The thought is absurd, but... "You know, we can't stay here," she continues, even if her throat feels like gravel and it does nothing to release the emotions building up inside her. "Those First Order troops will come after us."

"Not in this blizzard," Finn says, sitting in the chair opposite her and prying open the first-aid kit. "Unless they want to meet the same fate as us, they'll wait until it subsides and that might be a while. Hold still, I need to get a look at your head."

Rey slips her arms into the sleeves of the coat, pulling it tighter around her as Finn rummages through the first-aid kit. He pulls out some bandages, some rubbing alcohol and a curious looking pill.

"Chew this, it'll help with the pain and chances of concussion," he explains. Rey regards it warily for a moment, but then pops it into her mouth and chews it. A bitter taste explodes over her mouth, and if she hadn't had years of eating disgusting fried lizards on the worst of days on Jakku, she would have spit it out. Finn grimaces. "I know, it's terrible," he says sympathetically.

She catches a glimpse of his wince when he inspects the back of her head. "It's small, at least." Rey feels his fingers in her hair, feels him undo the small ribbons, and then part her hair to get a closer look at the actual injury. She'll never dare say it out loud, but the way his fingers gently comb through her hair feels nice.

No one besides herself has ever really touched her hair. Pulling it into three knobs is practical, an efficient way of keeping it out of her face. On Jakku, there was never any reason to let her hair down, and Jedi training continued along the same vein. But here she is, sitting in a broken ship on Hoth, letting Finn touch her hair. And it feels nice.

Oh damn him.

Rey stiffens as she feels a cloth damp with rubbing alcohol press against the injury, little droplets trailing down the nape of her neck. She knew it was going to hurt, being the only one to dress her own wounds for years, but it still stings, a sharp flare of pain. She doesn't cry out though. Her Jedi training has more than prepared her for pain, and besides, nothing can compare to what happened a year ago. Nothing will ever compare.

Rey doesn't realize she's crying until she feels the warmth of a tear against her freezing cheek, and hastily wipes it away, hoping Finn won't notice since he's too preoccupied with finishing up her head injury, and then immediately turns his attention to her leg. He doesn't notice, and she's not sure if she's relieved or disappointed.

His fingers are gentle, as always, as they poke and prod her ankle. It stings, but he doesn't seem too worried. "It seems like it's just a sprain," he reports, rising from his crouch. He was always a bit taller than her, but now with her sitting, she really has to look up to meet his eyes, and is surprised at the warmth, the fondness in them. "The pill will help with that too."

"Good," Rey murmurs, turning her eyes downcast.

"I'm going to go to the radios and see if I can send a message, and get the rest of the supplies and stuff," Finn says. He retracts his hands and swings his arms from side to side, as if not quite sure what to do with himself. Like a machine cog that's been chipped away and no longer fits in its spot.

Rey supposes they're both more than a little chipped now. "Okay," she nods. She's not used to feeling so helpless, so useless. But at least Finn's plan is exactly what she would have come up with, so she guesses it's not that bad. If she had to be stuck in this situation, she's mostly glad it's Finn. Mostly.

Finn turns to walk back into the rest of the ship, when he pauses, hovering in the doorway almost like a hologram. Not for the first time, she wonders if this is just a dream, and if she reaches out to touch him rather than the other way around, he'll slip through her fingers like sand. It's happened before, in her dreams. In the good dreams, he shatters. In the bad dreams, so does her heart.

"You know, now that we're stuck like this," he says slowly, glancing at her over his shoulder where a little line of snow has collected. She can see how carefully he's choosing his words, can see the gears turning in his head. She sees his Adam's apple bob as he swallows hard, as if the next few words are painful to say, before he turns his face away from her. "You can't ignore me forever."

She realizes once he's out of sight that he had given both jackets to her instead of taking one for herself, and part of her feels like crying. "I know," she mutters to herself, her eyes feeling wet and her throat feeling dry.

That's exactly what she's afraid of.