#persephonewrites

You were stressed out. You were so fucking stressed out.

General Organa had assigned you an espionage mission somewhere off base, on the planet Lothar. You did espionage missions just fine usually - you were specialised in reconnaissance, after all - but this mission was different. There was a lot riding on this after the large losses the Resistance had suffered and it was the biggest mission you had ever been assigned to. You had a lot of prep work to do in order to ensure the mission would be a success. Most of this work consisted of reading and studying reports. Reports from other officers about the planet and city you were headed to, reports on the points of contact there, reports on the security, on the floor plans, on the exit strategies… There were reports on just about anything that could be relevant to the mission. And then there was your cover, the one you’d be using to move among the rest of the population without standing out. You had used it before, of course, but that had been a while ago, so it wouldn’t hurt to look over it once more. Or twice more. Or thrice more. After all, your ability to blend in and maintain your cover was a crucial part of the mission. If you made one wrong move or said one wrong thing, the whole thing could come crashing down around you.

That was why, despite the fact that it was well past midnight and the base had significantly quieted down over the past few hours, you were still seated at your desk, poring over the datapad in your hands. There were at least two more strewn across the desk - all with files pulled up, so you could quickly check or cross-reference something. The screen above your desk was also on, showing you stats about the planet and its recent news feed. Your eyes were dry from staring at all the various screens and your head was feeling foggy from all the information you had processed in the past hours, but you weren’t about to stop. You couldn’t stop. There was too much riding on this for you to give up simply because you were tired. You blinked at the datapad in your hand, realising that you while you had read this entire paragraph, you had no idea what it had actually said. With a sigh, you moved your eyes back to the beginning of the paragraph to read it again.  

—

Poe had woken up in the middle of the night, only to find that your side of the bed had been unslept. He knew you sometimes worked until late, but not usually this late. Not unless it was an emergency. Since there was no way he was falling asleep again any time soon without you there, he had gotten up to find you and drag you back to bed with him.

It was eerie to walk through the dark hallways of the resistance compound. The place was usually bustling with people, everyone busy with their own tasks. It was strange to see it so quiet for once, almost like it was a different place. Luckily, Poe knew exactly where he would find you. He didn’t have to spend too long dwelling on the desolateness of the base, instead moving with purpose towards the back of the command centre, where he knew you had set up in one of the adjacent rooms with some of the other officers.

—

“There you are,” you heard a voice behind you. It was Poe, of course. You knew immediately. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“I’m busy,” you informed him, not looking up from your work. If you let your concentration waver, you’d never get all of this work done.

“I can see that. What are you doing?” he asked, dropping down on the chair of the desk next to you and rolling it over, coming up right next to you.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye - he looked dishevelled, like he had just gotten out of bed - before turning back to the datapad in your hand. “Working.”

Poe leaned back in his chair and rolled his eyes. “On what?”

“On the mission General Organa assigned to me,” you replied, stubbornly refusing to pause your work.

Poe raised his eyebrows. “You mean the mission to Lothal?”

“Of course.”

“But you don’t leave for Lothal for another three days!” he cried out, exasperated.

“Exactly! That means I only have three days to get all of this work done,” you answered, gesturing at everything on your desk.

Poe picked up one of the datapads and looked through it, before grabbing the one you were currently working on and checking that one out as well. “Y/N, this is ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous, Poe,” you responded, somewhat irritated that he was insulting your hard work. “I need to be prepared when I go in, otherwise the mission will fail.”

“The mission might fail anyway,” he countered. “Besides, you know all of this stuff already. You’re the most prepared person I’ve ever met. You’re like a walking encyclopaedia.”

“I am not,” you argued, trying to grab the datapad out of his hand so you could continue you work.

“How many moons does Lothar have?” he demanded, as he stood up and held the datapad out of your reach. You did the same thing to try and get it back from him, but since he was taller, the datapad remained firmly out of your reach.

“Two. Give it back.”

“How many suns?”

You raised your eyebrows. “One, of course. What’s your point?”

“My point is,” he answered, putting the datapad down on the desk next to him, “that you know all of this stuff already. You studied all of this last time the General sent you to Lothar. And the time before that.”

“But,” you hesitated for a second, almost scared that if you voiced what you were afraid of, it might somehow become reality, “what if I’ve forgotten? What if there’s some tiny significant detail I’ve missed and it costs us everything?”

What if, when it mattered the most, you screwed it up? What if the General had made a mistake in entrusting you with this mission?

… What if you failed?

Poe’s eyes softened. He breathed your name and put his hand on your cheek. “You have nothing to worry about. You can do this. General Organa entrusted you with this assignment for a reason. You’ve done it before and you can do it again.”

You hesitated, recognising the sense of his words, yet struggling to shed the crushing sense of anxiety you felt.

“Come to bed,” he coaxed, intertwining the fingers of his free hand with yours, tugging you to him.  

“Poe…”

“Please, Y/N. This can wait until tomorrow.” He dropped his hand from your cheek to your waist and pulled you closer, lowering his head to yours. He could see that he almost had you convinced, so he tried one final time. “You can’t do this if you’re exhausted. You need to rest.” He placed his forehead against yours and looked at you with soft, pleading eyes. “Please.”

He looked so sincere and the pull of your warm bed and his warm arms were too much to resist. After another second of hesitation, you nodded, finally giving in to the exhaustion, and to him. “Alright, fine.”

Poe smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. You closed your eyes and slid your arms around his back, resting you tired head on his shoulder. Poe buried his face in your hair for a second, before kissing your temple. He carefully pulled out of the embrace and grabbed your hand.

“C’mon,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze as he smiled at you. “Let’s get you to bed.”

You looked up at him, a sudden surge of emotion warming your chest. No matter what happened with the mission, you knew that you’d always have him to count on. You smiled back at him and squeezed his hand.