The first time Finn opens his eyes, he sees white lights and cold metal ceiling--and his first instinct is that he’s been reclaimed by the First Order, and that they’ve re-educated him.
But then a gentle hand rests on his shoulder, and the face he sees is a face he’s never seen before, but a kind and warm face, full of concern and care. “Easy, now.
Don’t move too much, or you’ll pull the scar.”
Scar? He doesn’t have any--
The fight on Starkiller Base. Right. Kylo Ren, and the fight.
And Finn remembers getting cut--the smell of scorched skin--and that the only thing that had really scared him was that he couldn't protect--
“Rey!” he gasps, and his voice creaks with his throat hoarse from disuse.
The hand, firm but not unkind, coaxes him back down. “Take it slow. Your friend is all right, so far as we know. She’s gone after Luke Skywalker.”
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