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Things Which Cannot Be Stolen

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The first time it happens is on a secret mission.

Finn gets sent to the outer rim, deep undercover, working with a group of smugglers who have contacts in the First Order. It’s his first real mission after his recovery, and the first one he’s ever been on alone. General Organa had hopes that the contacts will lead to her son. For the time being, all that’s come of it is a splitting headache and a lot of things lost in translation- literally, since none of the smugglers speak Basic, and Finn’s grasp of Huttese is… well. Nonexistent.

So when Finn finally meets the contacts, he’s caught a bit off-guard when one of them seems to recognize him. It takes a bit of memory jogging, but Finn suddenly remembers the man from his childhood, way back in Stormtrooper training. It’s been at least a decade or more since he’s seen the man, but there’s a hint of recognition in the officer’s eye, and all of a sudden Finn’s cover depends on his ability to think on his feet.

“You there,” the officer says, gesturing to where Finn is stacking boxes from the cargo hold. “Who are you?”

Finn turns around, blaster slung over his shoulder, and resists the urge to run. I’m a hero, now, Finn thinks. There are people counting on me.

“My name is Finn,” he says strongly, confidently.

“Finn who?” the officer asks, raising an eyebrow.

Finn hesitates- just for a second. He catches the officer twitching a bit, clearly waiting for any sign that Finn isn’t who he says he is.

“Finn Dameron, sir.”

The officer eyes him a bit, then gives a noncommittal gesture and turns around, his two escort troopers falling in line behind him.

Finn breathes a heavy sigh of relief and loads the rest of the boxes without a word. In his relief, he completely forgets to ask about Kylo Ren’s whereabouts.

As the First Order ships take off with their new cargo, one of the other smugglers says something clearly directed at Finn, waggling what are probably his species’ equivalent of eyebrows at him.

“What does that mean?!” Finn moans, his headache returning.


The second time it happens is under weirdly similar circumstances.

Rey is meeting up with an agent on Corellia, an old friend of Han Solo’s who may or may not know where Kylo Ren is. She spends two hours in a seedy cantina on the planet’s surface, fighting off the randy sons of nerf herders with her sharp tongue and, occasionally, a bit of a push with the Force.

Finally, the sunuvabitch shows his ugly face, and clearly has the same impression as the nerf herders and their sons.

“Well well well,” the hideous human(?) says in his gravelly ‘I-have-never-brushed-my-teeth-in-my-life’ voice. “Look who they sent me. Are you my payment, pretty girl? This information won’t come cheap, you know.”

Rey swallows her disgust and a little bit of vomit. “So you do have the information, then? Tell me where he is.”

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” the awful- ugh- asks her, clearly ignoring her question. She makes a mental note to work on her negotiating skills.

“Rey,” she says. And then, on a whim, and because she really wants to see this guy scared, she adds, “Skywalker. Rey Skywalker.”

His face pales, and all sense of superiority drains from his features. She can actually feel his presence shrink in the Force.

He takes a moment to muster his sense of entitlement, and then says to her, “You tell General Organa that if she wants this information, she’ll have to do better than scare it out of me.” And before she can respond, he rises, and stalks out of the bar.

She groans. This day just keeps getting worse.

And to top it off, there’s an idiot from the bar approaching with two drinks in his hand.

She gives a jerk with her wrist, reaching out with the force. The man trips over nothing, spilling both drinks all over himself on the way to the floor.

Ugh, even that didn’t cheer her up. Where’s a wookie when you need one?


The third time it happens, the two of them are simply eating lunch at the mess hall back at Resistance HQ on D’Qar.

“…and so this guy goes ‘who the hell are you?’ like I’m just gonna list off my old ID number to him. And so I take a look at the guy and I just panic, the first thing out of my mouth is ‘Finn Dameron, I’m Finn Dameron!’”

Rey bursts out laughing. “Oh, that’s brilliant; the same thing happened to me!”

Finn cocks an eyebrow, a spike of jealousy surging out of nowhere. “You told- you were- Dameron?”

She waves her hand at him, stifling the giggles. “Not exactly. This jerk was treating me like a piece of meat, so I told him… I told him I was Rey Skywalker.”

Finn’s eyes get wide. “Are you Rey Skywalker? I mean, it would explain a lot…”

“Of course not. At least, I don’t think so.” She shakes her head. “I mean, I’d know, wouldn’t I? I’ve met him, I’ve trained under him. Surely I’d have felt- something, right?”

Finn just shrugs, lost. “This Force stuff still doesn’t make any sense to me. I-“

His thought is cut short as Jedi Master Luke Fucking Skywalker sits down next to Rey, just across from Finn’s place at the table.

“No, please, continue. I want to hear more about this Force stuff not making sense,” the Master says with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Don’t you know who this is?” Rey whispers to Luke, with more than a tint of conspiracy in her voice. “This is Finn Dameron.”

Luke’s confusion sets Rey off laughing again. Finn has to strike back.

“Well she’s Rey Skywalker!” he says, and when she catches his eye mid-chortle, a spark of panic passes between them.

Then, they both start cackling madly.

In the midst of their shared joke, they completely miss the familiar look Master Skywalker gives to the both of them.


The fourth time it happens, Poe’s hurt.

It was just supposed to be a routine cargo run, but the convoy was ambushed by the First Order. With a bit of trick flying and a whole lot of luck, Poe managed to get the majority of the transports clear of the attack, but just before firing up his X-Wing’s hyperdrive, one of his engines was struck by a stray shot from a TIE fighter hoping to pick them off at the last second. On approach to D’Qar, unaware that he’d been hit, his ship lost power and crashed a few miles out of the base.

Which is how Finn and Rey end up standing outside the medical bay, desperately arguing with the doctor in charge to be let in to see Poe.

“I’m sorry, I can’t let anyone in to see the patient!” the medic says. “He’s being kept under surveillance to see if his condition changes. We can’t have anyone disturbing the instruments.”

Finn groans. Rey presses on: “Isn’t there any circumstances we could get in to see him under?”

The medic rolls her eyes. “The only people allowed in during situations like these are immediate family. You’re not his family, are you?”

Rey looks up at Finn. “Actually.”

Finn reads her mind. “We are.”

“Really?” says the medic, giving them the tone she uses when a patient insists they’re feeling good enough to check out of the medical bay yesterday, even. “And what exactly are your names?”

In perfect unison, with absolute confidence in themselves: “Finn and Rey Dameron.”

The medic is so shocked by their delivery that she lets them in. “He’s in room 3C,” she says, not believing herself.

When Rey and Finn find Poe, he’s sitting up in bed eating what passes for sweets around these parts. A medic pushes buttons on a beeping console that’s plugged into the wall behind the bed.

“Hey, guys!” Poe greets them. “Did you hear the news? I got shot down.”

Rey is furious. She starts stuttering the beginnings of words, her face turning red. She puts a fist into the wall, groaning something that sounds like “DAMERON” in some alien language.

“We thought you were injured?!” Finn says for her.

“Oh, yeah! The doc thought I had a concussion or something. She gave me a pill for it, says I’m fine. I got this neat scar though!” He holds up his arm and points to a long line running up the length, from his elbow to his wrist.

“What are we going to do with him?” Rey grunts in frustration, to nobody in particular but still sort-of directed at Finn. “He’s family now.”


It’s later, after everyone’s calmed down, that Rey and Finn once again find themselves eating in the mess hall without Poe, who had been ordered to stay overnight in the medical bay, and was told he’d be discharged by morning.

“I’ve been thinking,” Rey says between bites, clearly trying to get as much food into her mouth as possible before she has to swallow. Growing up hungry leads one to developing strange eating habits.

“Oh yeah?” Finn responds, sucking the meat clean from the fourth of what looks like some sort of drumstick but tastes nothing like what he’s ever eaten before, which admittedly is limited largely to nutrition pastes.

“I sort of like this whole surname thing.” Rey says, nodding in agreement with herself. “Master Skywalker said he’d be okay if I kept using his name, and being Damerons seems like it’s working out for us.”

Finn nods with her, cocking an eyebrow. “So where are you going with this, Rey Dameron Skywalker?”

Rey smiles at him. “How would you like to be a Skywalker too?”

He’s so excited, he stands up out of his chair. “Are you serious?” he reaches over and grabs her by the shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug from across the table. “This is amazing! A few months ago, I didn’t have any name at all, and now I have three?!” he gives a whoop of excitement, and then takes a step back, shaking his drumstick at her like he’s just had a really good idea. “I need to go change the records! Everyone needs to know! I’m Finn Dameron Skywalker now!”

As he practically skips out of the mess hall, all eyes are on him. Including, interestingly enough, a group of pilots sitting in the corner, black helmets at their feet.


The fifth time it happens, it’s completely by accident. Sort of. Not really.

Poe gets discharged the following morning, as promised. He’s told by a smirking doctor that his family was very concerned about him, and he blushes and ducks his head, muttering something that could be ‘they’re not really my family’ and could also be ‘I’m completely in love with those two dorks’, it’s hard to tell.

But the snickers follow him around for weeks. Nobody says a thing, which is the weirdest part. He’s out on maneuvers with the squadron, re-learning his repaired X-Wing; he’s watching Finn and Rey do lightsaber training in the courtyard; he’s taking the Millenium Falcon out for a spin; no matter where he goes, the snickers come along. And it’s always the same, too; someone will address him by his full name, and be midway through saying something else, before a bunch of other voices over the comm shushes them.

It’s only when General Organa comes up to him, hand on his shoulder, and says in complete seriousness, “Welcome to the family, Poe,” that he gives in.

He marches up to his squadron in the mess hall (and of course they start giggling the moment they see him) and begs them to tell them what is so goddamn funny.

“Congratulations on the union, Poe,” Snaps giggles into a plate of gelatin.

Jessika comes out with it. “Check the records. Check your name.”

He finds a computer terminal quick as he can, starts typing in his name, and gets immediately corrected.

The name on the screen reads ‘Poe Dameron Skywalker’.


It takes a solid half-hour of searching, but Poe finds Finn in Rey’s quarters, and thank god for it too, because the two of them are the only people on the base who aren’t constantly snickering at him.

At the look of alarm on Poe’s face, Finn hops off of Rey’s bed. “What’s wrong, buddy?” he asks.

Poe runs his hands through his hair. “Did you do this?!” He holds up a datapad with his new name on it. “I got a letter from my mother asking me why I didn’t tell her about- I don’t even know! When I got back from my patrol the other day there was a box of- of- underthings on my bed, and the card was signed in wookie! Why is my name suddenly Poe Dameron Skywalker?”

He’s very much out of breath by the time he finishes shouting at them. To their credit, Finn and Rey maintain a collective straight face the whole time.

So they sit him down and explain the situation to him. And it takes a while- it is a bit of a long story. But by the end of it, Poe is much more understanding.

“I mean, I would’ve liked to have been asked before you both went around using my name. But, you know, what’s mine is yours.” He gestures to the leather jacket draped over the chair. “I already lend you both my jacket, my elite piloting skills, and my sunny disposition; I might as well give you my surname too.”

Finn steps forward. “I didn’t mean to hurt your- reputation,” he catches himself, “but I really just thought. Well... You gave me my first name ever. And I wanted to return the favor.”

And Poe can’t really say anything to that.

“And besides,” Finn continues, “I wanted you to be a part of the family. I worried you would’ve felt left out if Rey and I were both Dameron-Skywalkers, and you were still just a Dameron.”

Ignoring the slight at being ‘just a Dameron’, Poe admits to myself that he would, indeed, have felt jealous.

“I mean, I’m not really all that mad,” he says finally. “It’s not like I’m complaining about being more- connected to you two. And hell, it is really comfortable underwear.” He adjusts his waistband a bit, shrugging.

Rey mutters something that sounds like ‘it’d be more comfortable on the floor’.

“Yeah,” Poe says, before he can catch himself.

The three of them look at each other wide-eyed.

“What are we going to tell the General?” Finn says to no-one in particular.

“We’ll worry about that later,” Poe says, already shrugging off his shirt.

Finn looks to Rey, who seems to be doing the same. She looks up at him expectantly, and it clicks.

And that’s the last thing any of them say for the rest of the night.


Much, much later, when the whole ‘First Order’ ordeal is finally sorted out and Kylo Ren is captured and rehabilitated or some such nonsense and everything is finally, finally at peace, it’s Poe who says it first.

“Why don’t we make this whole thing official, hmm? The three of us. Dameron-Skywalkers to the end.”

“Are you asking us to marry you?” Finn groans from his place against Poe’s back.

“Of course we’ll marry you, now can you please go to sleep?” Rey mumbles into Finn’s shoulder.

And really, it’s not like he had to ask; they’d all been using the name for years anyway.