Finn wouldn’t call himself obsessed, exactly.

It just felt like a pretty big thing to miss, was all. When Kylo had disappeared, he hadn’t noticed, and then when he’d come back, Finn’d had no idea he was about to transfer his entire fortune - so enormous the New Republic’s ‘you’re a piece of shit traitor’ fines had barely dinged it - to the ’troopers. So it seemed reasonable, rational, and in fact advisable to keep a closer eye on Kylo. What else had he missed? He needed to be more vigilant. He was navigating tricky political waters, after all, and missing major signs of change in his own bodyguard had to be a bad sign.

That was why he was staring at Kylo while Kylo drank caf on their transport back to Coruscant. Professional reasons.

“What,” Kylo said flatly, putting his mug down.

Finn stared at the text - something written in Wookiee accompanied by a drawing that Finn didn’t think was genitalia - and said, “Nothing.”

Kylo’s hands were really big.

“I know you’re lying to me. What would you do if I grabbed you and confirmed it?”

“Report you and get you fired,” Finn said, promptly and completely falsely.

Kylo sneered. “Good thing it’s my job to prevent you from keeping secrets from me.”

“Not really. It’s your job to -”

“Keep you safe, which secrets impinge upon.”

“Big words from someone who kept a huge secret and disappeared about it.”

“I suppose you’re implying I’m a hypocrite. How unfortunate for me. I’ve never been accused of a worse crime, in fact; this will lead me to reevaluate my behavior, I’m sure.” Kylo picked up his mug again, taking a loud, rude slurp.

Finn knew when he’d been beat. He left Kylo, his stupid mug, and his huge hands alone in the kitchen, returning to his seat and reviewing the Senate’s upcoming schedule for a tenth time.

The schedule was pre-empted the day after Finn arrived in Coruscant.

He found out about it via a frantic knocking on his door. “Finn! Finn, open up, it’s important!”

Rey. He could feel her in the Force, disconcertingly, a bright and frantic presence. He wasn’t sure when he’d started noticing that stuff. “Door, open.”

Rey ran inside. “Have you heard the news? You haven’t, I can tell. Finn, Mon Mothma’s opening a formal inquiry about it. We’re all going to be called to testify. You’ll want Jannah here, and maybe Khajee and some others - definitely Chewie - I called him already, don’t worry. I can’t believe -”

“Rey, hang on, slow down. Mon Mothma’s opening an inquiry into what?”

“Oh. Right.” Rey’s eyes were wider than he’d ever seen them. He could practically feel her too-fast heartbeat. “New Republic loyalists are mounting an offensive to root out Imperial sympathizers, and they’re starting with the military. Finn, she’s opening an inquiry into Galactic funding of stormtroopers.”

A formal inquiry meant official summons and little to no insight on what might actually happen during the hearing. Finn received a summons, as did Jannah, Rey, and Poe. Finn expected all that. Kylo, though. Kylo stood in front of his office desk the day after Rey had told him the news, arms folded behind him, and said, “I expect you’ve been informed that I have also been summoned.”

“Um, no. Sorry. I’m a subject of investigation, so apparently they’re not going to tell me much.”

“What would you like me to say?”

Finn blinked. “Excuse me?”

Kylo heaved a sigh. He looked ridiculous, overly dramatic and put-upon. “Presumably my testimony will be regarded as untrustworthy no matter what, but nevertheless: I can ensure my communication conforms to whatever strategy you and Jannah have decided upon for your own testimony.”

Oh, no. Finn was feeling sorry for him again, that diffuse pity that settled over him when he had to think about how thoroughly broken Kylo was. It wasn’t a very helpful feeling; there was no real reason to feel sorry for Kylo, and pity only made Finn feel irritable. “We were just going to tell the truth.”

Kylo huffed a disdainful breath. “Well, that’s ridiculous.”

Finn propped his elbows on the desk and said mildly, “Is it, now.”

“Of course. What do you expect to gain from telling the truth?”

“Kylo -”

“I understand that Resistance alumni place an unnatural weight on the truth, but this is a very delicate time,” Kylo said. The words tumbled out in such a rush that Finn almost thought he’d rehearsed them. “The New Republic was captivated by your testimony. Many galactic citizens contacted their Senators on your behalf. Mon Mothma is opening the query on the strength of that uproar; she wouldn’t do it if she felt it was an unpopular choice.”

“Mon Mothma cares about the truth, too.”

“Of course, but she cares most of all about her own career.” A knife-thin smile. “I’ve known her since I was a baby; trust me on this one.”

Not as far as Finn could throw him. “Okay, fine, your cynicism might be justified. Still. Jannah and I care about the truth, because the truth explains why ’troopers deserve resettlement funds and a place to live, you know?”

“Yes, that was the core message of your speech. Nevertheless.”

Finn waited, but Kylo apparently thought that pompous intonation made his point for him. Finally, he gave in. “Nevertheless what?”

“A successful strategy would ensure maximally moving framing of your truthful accounts.”

“Why don’t you just go ahead and tell me what you think it should be, then.”

“Why do you think I -”

“Cut the crap, Kylo.”

Kylo made a face like he’d just smelled a Wookiee fart. “Fine. You should be focused on the fact that you’re Human.”

“The Republic grants equal rights to all sentients.”

“But the Republic is majority, and led by, Humans. You didn’t discuss your own childhood last time.”

If Kylo had buried a knife in Finn’s guts and twisted the blade, he couldn’t have landed a worse blow. “Because I don’t remember it. Because you -”

“Because Imperial soldiers, myself included stole you from it, yes. That’s a very moving thing to talk about. And the conditioning removes your memories, but I think if you asked your brothers and sisters, some of them might still have some inkling of what their life was like before we took them. You and I both know the conditioning was imperfect.”

Finn hated the completely unearned camaraderie underlying Kylo’s speech. You and I both know, like Finn hadn’t broken out of hell knowing Kylo wanted to kill him. Fuck. “Imperfect? You really are still a loyalist, huh.”

Kylo’s expression contorted into a sneer. “I’m sure it makes you more comfortable to believe that. Isn’t that what all your little friends want? A simpler world.”

It was a stupid, ridiculous, hurtful argument. Finn was still dwelling on it days later, when Jannah arrived in Coruscant. She also wanted a strategy, and when Finn reluctantly told her what Kylo had said, she said, “Well. I don’t think he’s wrong, precisely, do you?”

“I basically always think Kylo’s wrong as a matter of principle.”

“I mean about the need for a narrative. It’s crass and stupid, we both know that, but…”

“Senators don’t vote with their ethics. I know.” He’d lain awake for several nights and come to a similar conclusion, but - “Don’t you think it’s weird, though? How much he expects us to listen to him - how much we do? He gave us money, he’s giving us advice, what’s he going to want in return?”

“It’s self interest,” Jannah said. “He’s obsessed with you, and -”

“Hey!”

“What? He is. But more importantly, you’re his key to staying out of prison. Have you seen a New Republic prison? They’re brutal. I’d do the same in his position.”

“You’d never be in his position.”

“No. But that just means he’s as shitty as we knew he was, not that he’s some kind of master manipulator.”

Maybe the only thing worse than his lasting discomfort with Kylo was the aggressive understanding he got from Jannah. She’d grown up with him, after all - or alongside him, anyway. She understood what it meant to feel your chest squeeze tight when you saw him, to fear what he might do, even now that his power had been taken away.

What if he told her about the kiss? Heat of the moment, Finn had almost died. Kylo had used his - their - Kylo had used the Force to save him. If he said it out loud, how repulsive would it be? How badly would Jannah react?

Pretty bad, was Finn’s guess, and that was why it needed to be a secret forever. Same with how often he thought about doing it again. “Yeah. I guess. So, do you remember life before they took you?”

“Only a little, but I’m thinking that can be part of it. You know, strategically.”

It was grotesque. But: “Right. Because it tugs at heartstrings.”

“And it reminds them that there are parents out there missing kids, too. We field those inquiries, you know. Some of us agree to genetic testing, but of course that’s not the norm.”

’Troopers as a group weren’t too eager to give anyone else access to their medical information, Finn included. And Finn suspected plenty of them were like him: afraid to know about their families, because the Empire and First Order had laid waste to entire planets. The only thing worse than suspecting you were alone in the galaxy was knowing for sure. “Yeah. So we’re implying that this might be the only way for us to find our families eventually. Self-determination.”

“And funds for it, yes.”

“What does Mon Mothma want, do you know?”

“I’d expect you to have a better view on that, being a Senator and all.”

He shook his head. “I’ve been telling everyone, she’s a rule-follower. To be honest -” Kriff it, he’d just say it. “To be honest, I figured Rey might’ve told you.”

It was kind of funny to watch Jannah, poised and badass and leader of a whole diaspora, choke on her own tongue from embarrassment. “I don’t! We’re not! Listen, Finn, we’re not.”

“Sure, sure.” Finn forced down a laugh. He couldn’t quite repress a smile. “But you know, you want to, right? I’m pretty sure she does.”

“I can’t even think about that stuff right now.” She crossed her arms. “Enough nonsense. I would literally rather relive conditioning than go into the details of my love life, and lucky for you, talking about the conditioning’s part of our strategy too.”

They worked on it late into the night: who would say what, how to make the testimony organic while ensuring all their people touched on common themes. Finn knew they’d need to discuss Kylo’s testimony at some point, but it turned out he was a coward after all. He avoided the topic until it was late enough that they were both yawning, and then he promised himself he’d bring it up tomorrow.

Of course, that meant he was thinking of Kylo when he went to bed.

It just didn’t make sense. Kylo was a huge asshole, and specifically, he was a huge asshole Finn wasn’t sure actually cared about the ’trooper’s issues. He didn’t even think they were full people to Kylo, not really. Wasn’t superiority the whole point of his Knights of Ren? He didn’t have his stupid gang anymore, but it wasn’t like he’d fallen on his knees and begged for forgiveness or whatever.

No, Kylo’s motivation was clear as glass. He wanted to retain some degree of freedom, like Jannah had said, and he wanted to retain access to the Force through Finn. Of course, that led to another, scarier suspicion. Kylo could access the Force through Finn. Kylo was one of the most dangerous people in the known universe when he had access to the Force.

Kylo had to be planning some kind of jailbreak.

He’d take Finn with him, right? He’d have to. Finn would be his captive, bent to his will in the Force, and then -

But it was kind of hard to think through the possibilities.

The thing was, Kylo in the Force wasn’t exactly terrifying. Kylo Ren of the First Order had been terrifying, and Finn’s body still lit up with adrenaline when he was gearing up to fight, but the weirdest part about feeling Kylo in the Force was how certain he felt that Kylo couldn’t hurt him there. If he tried, Finn was pretty sure he’d be able to hold him off. But on top of that, Finn was completely sure Kylo wasn’t going to try.

It made him feel crazy. Maybe his judgement was just fundamentally skewed. If he brought it up to Rey, he was positive that’s what she would say, dyad or not. Kylo Ren was a murderer, as evil as they came, and Finn had felt that in the Force plenty of times, a creepy void where a conscience should be. Every time, though, it was controlled. Leashed. Because he accessed the Force through Finn, and Finn didn’t want him killing innocent people.

He closed his eyes against the shiver that sent down his spine. That was the central question, then. If Kylo took them both far away from Coruscant, what would he do?

Finn couldn’t just go along with it, so he’d never find out. He had a duty that Kylo didn’t bother pretending to understand.

Still, he dreamed of a different world, one with a Kylo Ren who wasn’t a complete sociopath. It was a nice dream. When he woke up, he girded his loins and went to talk to the real Kylo, who was reading his tablet on the couch in their - Finn’s - living room.

“I’m going to ask you not to lie to me.”

Kylo didn’t look up from his tablet. “I slept well, thank you, Finn. And you?”

“Jannah told me I should be suspicious of it all.”

Kylo sighed and put the tablet down, meeting Finn’s gaze. Finn hated the jolt of awareness that ran through him when he noticed the way Kylo’s fingers curled, big and blunt-nailed, around his own knee. “Jannah’s a paranoid maniac.”

“She’s a friend and the sovereign of the people I represent. Don’t be a dick.”

“Fine. Suspicious of what?”

This didn’t feel like a conversation between employer and employee. It felt like the kind of holodrama Finn never had time to watch. But he’d already started the conversation, so Finn gritted his teeth and kept going. “Signing over the estate and agreeing to testify in the inquiry. To an external observer it would look like you had a change of heart.”

Dark eyes on his. “But?”

“Well, I know you didn’t. Jannah thinks -”

“Don’t do that.” A low command, threaded through with some emotion Finn couldn’t identify. “Don’t project your own suppositions on Jannah. What do you you think?”

Fuck. Finn let out his breath long and slow, closing his eyes. “I think you have an escape plan, and it probably involves kidnapping me. I’m not sure if you’ll just drag me with you everywhere or if you’ll try to recondition me to ensure I can’t run.”

Said out loud, it sounded kind of insane, didn’t it? Except Kylo wasn’t answering, and Finn knew better than to just assume something sounding crazy meant it couldn’t happen. What else had the First Order been?

He still had his eyes closed, but he could feel Kylo moving; it wasn’t that big a surprise when he rested two fingers on the top of Finn’s wrist. He still wasn’t used to this feeling, though, like being thrown into a strong current. He could feel the Force and he could feel Kylo, and for a moment the two were one and the same.

Kylo didn’t do anything as simple as telling Finn what he planned to talk about. Instead, he just waited while Finn explored, poking at him in the Force. In Kylo’s mind there was that massive, cold blank spot, like he’d scooped out part of his own soul. Finn hated to even look at it, but now he tried to. Kylo was trying to show him something, right? So he’d meet him halfway.

It was Kylo who took his hand away, grounding them in their own minds again. Finn opened his eyes and took a deep gulp of air.

Kylo tilted his head, watching Finn. “You can still reach the Force.”

“Yeah.” Though it was easier after he’d been touching Kylo, for some reason. Maybe just because Kylo had more experience with it.

“I don’t plan to escape, or kidnap you, or recondition you.” The words sounded so mild, but Finn could hear Kylo’s frustration, could feel his irritation that he even had to explain it.

But he could also feel that Kylo was telling the truth.

“Then what’s your play here?”

“I’d like to continue doing this job, and Mon Mothma has made it clear that my current situation is contingent upon obeying the Senate subpoenas.”

“All right.” Kylo hadn’t really told him anything at all, but. Finn thought of that cold void inside him. Maybe there wasn’t anything else to tell. “Well. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Kylo said, and went back to whatever he’d been doing on his tablet.

Finn was one of the stupidest people Kylo had ever had the misfortune to be legally bound to. Oh, sure, he was perfectly intelligent in some ways, charming and good at mechanical repair and public speaking, but when it came to power he was an idiot to a degree Kylo found baffling and terrifying.

Surely he had to realize that if he truly wanted to be safe from Kylo, he should be trying to compel him. Kylo was certain that the New Republic’s implant would also render him incapable of defending himself from such an attack. Finn could simply use his power to order Kylo to tell Mon Mothma what he wanted her to hear, and he would be powerless to resist.

Instead, Finn - an idiot, a kriffing fool - had decided to trust Kylo instead. And for what? Simply to be the better man? It sent a hot, sick rush of resentment through Kylo, knowing that Finn was extending him such unearned charity.

He thought about what it might be like to betray Finn to Mon Mothma. Satisfying, surely, to have his testimony preserved in Republic history, forever denying Finn the indignity of his trust.

But of course, then he’d have to deal with Finn’s complaints, and probably Rey’s approbation as well. Plus, even if Finn kept his promise not to send Kylo back to prison, it seemed likely he’d retreat to Naboo, and Kylo would be forever stuck in his grandmother’s old powder room.

Right. He’d have to tell the truth. Maybe Finn didn’t trust him after all, and only knew he had leverage. A cheerful thought.

Rey was the first person to be summoned to testify.

“Bringing out the big guns early,” Poe said.

The inquest was private, though the report would be publicly disseminated in a month. It was an impossibly rapid timeline, but apparently the Senate wanted to move quickly, before protests for or against ’troopers had a chance to gain much ground. To mark the first day of testimony - or to force himself to calm the hell down about it - Finn had invited Poe and Rose over while Rey did the deed. Jannah was planetside, but she’d decided to stay in a hotel; “If I spend time around anyone, I’m going to lose my mind,” she’d told Finn.

But Poe wasn’t a politician, that was for sure. “She’s not exactly well-liked right now. After everything, Jedi are viewed with suspicion.”

“Sure, but she’s not like. You know.”

“Kylo Ren, your bodyguard-slash-roommate?” Rose said.

Finn grimaced at her. She stuck her tongue out in response.

It was nice to have friends. Still: “He’s sitting right there.”

“Hello,” Kylo said from his spot in shadowed corner. If Finn hadn’t known better, he’d swear Kylo called down darkness just to make it easier to be dour over there.

“Ugh,” Rose said.

“She’s not like Kylo, you’re right,” Finn told Poe. “But there are substantial anti-Jedi movements in the Outer Rim, and it doesn’t help that she chose to call herself Skywalker. Lotta grudges against them out there.”

“Fair enough. Still, though, she’s cute and she bleeds credibility. Her testimony’ll help.”

From the corner, an aggrieved nose-sigh, kind of a snort. Finn said, “Something wrong over there?”

“Nothing life-threatening, which means it’s none of his business,” Rose said.

“Correct,” Kylo said.

Finn wanted to put his head in his hands. Instead, he said, “Kylo?”

“You’re all so optimistic for a group that has been defeated time and time again,” Kylo said in his thin, smug, superior voice. His First Order voice, if Finn was being honest. “I’m simply admiring your energy. Personally, I couldn’t sustain such a delusion.”

“No, you were too busy deluding yourself that the First Order’s maniacal will to power was a good idea, and that the dark side doesn’t suck shit,” Poe said. His tone was mild, but his hand curled into a fist on his thigh. “Get a fucking grip, Ben. I know what you look like when you know you’re full of it.”

Silence. Finn, for lack of anything better to do, took a long drink of beer.

“Soooo,” Rose said. “Bets on Rey trying to fight some Senator’s aide?”

“Sucker’s bet,” Finn said over top Poe’s, “What, just to lose money? I’m good.”

That made them all laugh, at least, and if the corner was still dour, Finn found himself better able to ignore it.

Finn was one of the last people to be questioned. Every day that passed without his summons meant another day of jumpiness and another night of stress dreams. So he was in a terrible mood more or less all the time, for two weeks, until he finally received his summons.

To his surprise, the person across the table from him was a person rather than a droid - and Mon Mothma, specifically. She folded her hands and offered him a smile. “Mr. Finn. Thank you for coming.”

“I think you already know I just go by Finn.”

“I didn’t want to presume,” she said, “but yes, I had heard. Have a seat, Finn.”

Finn sat.

“You looked surprised when you came in.”

“That obvious, huh? Yeah, I figured you’d have a droid doing the questioning.”

“It’s not that simple, I’m afraid. An accelerated timeline for the inquiry means we don’t have the luxury of time to review recordings and transcriptions, or calling in witnesses for follow-up questions a droid wouldn’t think to ask.” She smiled again. Someone must’ve told her it was comforting; to Finn, it was so obviously fake that it was mostly just distracting. “How are you?”

He’d sworn at the door to be honest, so he said, “Exhausted.”

“I see. From your duties as a Senator?”

Kriff, this was going to be a painful two-to-five hours. “Not really. This inquiry’s got me dreaming I’m back with the First Order, so…”

“I see.”

“I really doubt you do.”

“Elaborate on that.”

Finn wanted to refuse. He wanted to leave, actually, and take a shuttle to Jakku, and bury himself in the desert. Drowning in sand might be miserable, but it still seemed better than this shit. “My time with the First Order - my time in captivity - was painful. Traumatic. Knowing I’m going to have to talk about it, but not knowing what I might have to say, what you might ask me or what I might need to remember, that’s also traumatic.”

“I see.” Mon Mothma’s expression was unfathomable, her eyes steady. She said, “My own experiences under the Empire were difficult. I can’t claim to understand your pain, but I do want to be very clear that the purpose of this inquiry is to resolve outstanding questions about the exact nature of the injustice you’ve experienced.” She paused; Finn, sensing she wanted some kind of feedback, nodded. “Now, with that in mind, I would appreciate it if you could take me through the conditioning process.”

It was a brutal first question - request? Whatever - and it didn’t get better after that. Finn talked about conditioning and reconditioning; he talked about the agonizing process of breaking free after he’d lost Slip. He talked about his brothers and sisters and how they’d all talked about family, the distant concept that they’d had mothers and fathers fading with time. He talked about the beatings, the near-constant fear and dehumanization.

He cried, several times. Mon Mothma offered him tissues, but she didn’t stop asking questions.

When he was done, he locked himself in his apartments and didn’t answer Rey or Poe’s messages. He lay in the dark and tried, and tried, and tried to remember where he was, who he was. What couldn’t be done to him anymore.

Kylo must’ve known. He hung back for almost a week, relegating himself to Finn’s shadow, speaking only when spoken to.

With one exception.

Finn found himself up late one night, unable to sleep, jumpy and irritable. The door to Kylo’s room was closed, so Finn figured it was probably pretty safe to sit in the kitchen with some caf and, well. Sob.

Kylo had more sense than to come out while Finn was crying, at least. But after, when he was finishing his caf and staring into space, Kylo’s door opened. It only took a glance for Finn to be sure he’d heard the crying.

Finn almost said something, but there was something fragile in the air, like a dome of water about to escape its own surface tension. Kylo must have sensed it too; he only went into the kitchen, opened a cupboard Finn had never used, and handed Finn a jar. He didn’t even give Finn a chance to inspect it before going back into his room.

The jar was full of candy that a quick holopad scan indicated was a rare Naboo caramel. Finn ate six. The caramel had sedatives, his holopad told him, and that turned out to be true: Finn slept half the day away and felt better when he finally woke up.

When the inquiry was released, with the recommendation that stormtroopers be paid refugee funds as well as restitution on behalf of the Republic, Finn felt a horrible pierced-balloon kind of relief.

The Senate then voted for those funds on a bill introduced by Bliobius of New Hosnian, one which carved out the same provisions for ’troopers as Finn’s bill did. This bill, however, had the co-sponsorship of a number of not-quite-sympathizers. People the inquiry might politically damage.

Finn voted yes and hated himself for it.

“I know it’s a mixed blessing,” Poe said that evening, “but a celebration might still be good.”

Finn sighed. “Please tell me you have reasoning beyond, like, you want to get trashed.”

“Oh, that’s always a factor. But no, that’s not really it. It’s just…this is a victory, you know? We all hate Bliobius. But you’ve still won your constituents something really important.”

“We don’t even need it anymore, really. Given everything.” Kylo’s family money, he meant, but he’d rather be chased by a flock of angry porgs than say that with Kylo lurking in the corner.

“It’s still vindication, though. And Finn, as your friend, I think I should remind you: being rich is more fun than just getting by.”

Finn rolled his eyes. “All right, all right, fine. I’ll throw a party. Happy?”

“Ecstatic.” Poe clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll bring the hooch.”

Jannah was still in town with a number of ’troopers; her presence during the vote was the only reason Finn hadn’t completely lost his mind. Add in Rey, Rose, Chewbacca, and Poe, and his apartment would already be pretty full. That was his excuse, anyway, for keeping it private. No need for any other Senators to attend, or really anyone who thought being seen with Finn would be good for their career.

And it was actually really nice. The legislative victory was bittersweet for all of them, so no one was looking sidelong at Finn for not being over the moon with joy. He could sit on his couch and watch Rey lean into Jannah and not worry about someone selling a story about tonight to a tabloid.

Plus, the booze didn’t hurt. Poe was right about that. Finn let himself drink enough to be relaxed, a little fuzzy around the edges.

“Isn’t it weird with him lurking in the corner all the time?” Rose asked, nodding not-so-discreetly at Kylo.

“Oh, very,” Finn said. “But it’s not like he could join this party.”

“I mean, he could. You know.” Rose made a face and hunched her shoulders. “Doing a toast like this.”

Finn was surprised into laughing out loud. “You could take that show on the road.”

“Yeah, but then I’d have to travel.” She grinned at him. “I just thought you could use a little levity.”

“I…yeah.”

“Mixed blessing?”

“Very much so.”

“Well, none of us are going to judge you if you kick us out early.”

“Nah, it’ll be fine. You’re all family.”

“Great, ’cause I’m trying to get myself a piece of that settlement money pie.”

Finn rolled his eyes at her and took another sip of his beer. Rose seemed okay with carrying the conversation, chatting about her adventures getting her engineering degree and her side gig fixing up speeders. “By the way, I meant to ask you. Chief of staff position still open?”

“It is, actually.”

“Awesome, because I have some ideas about leverage.” She’d taken a class with Mon Mothma’s third cousin, apparently, and they’d done some brainstorming.

Eventually, Rose was pulled into another conversation and Finn found himself alone again. Then he was alone-with-Chewy, then he was mediating an argument about sonic shower beers between Poe and Rey, and then, finally, the party began to wind down, and he was really alone.

Well.

He was really alone, except for Kylo.

“I’ve put in a request for housekeeping droids,” Kylo said, standing in front of Finn with his arms crossed behind his back.

“Thanks,” Finn said. Kylo nodded and went into his room without further comment.

Finn hadn’t even realized Kylo had unbent around him a little, but the difference was clear now: he was incredible uncomfortable, and had been since he’d given his testimony at the inquiry.

Well, good, Finn thought, more sourly than he probably should’ve. Maybe sometime in the next decade or so, Kylo would finally internalize just how bad his actions had been.

Ha. And maybe Hux would send him an apology card, too.

Kylo’s second disappearance started like the first, with one change: Finn noticed his absence right away this time. When it had been sixteen hours with no sign of Kylo, he contacted building security.

No sign of him, nor of anyone who might have taken him. Not in the apartment, not in the entirety of Coruscant.

As far as surveillance could tell, Kylo had simply disappeared.