He lets out a breath he's been holding since… since they didn't die.
"Yes. I agree."
I can no longer imagine any other way
A lifetime of isolation, the only one he'd let in a droid he'd reprogrammed himself—
Kay. I'm so sorry, Kay.
—and then: Jyn Erso, the crack in the blaster casing that blew it all irrevocably open. If she hadn't said it first, would he have found the courage…?
What's too much need to put on another person?
What he saw in her face was reflected right back at her in his.
And because she'd done the harder part, speaking first, he tries to pull his weight. He sets the device almost ceremonially down in the room they've claimed for him, then turns to face her. Though his voice is only half its usual volume as he adds: "I won't leave your side again, unless you want me to."
She reluctantly lets go of him once inside and lets out a breath she honestly hadn't remembered holding herself. She must have been holding onto it for at least that long, her whole stay aboard Reverie Terminal, that's for certain. Her lips twitch though the humor is forced and she shakes her head at him as though he's truly hopeless.
"I just said I didn't want that, Cassian. My room is right next door. And Bodhi is on the other side of my wall."
So he always knows where to find them. It is difficult to have this conversation though it shouldn't be. And it's harder still to reach out for him after she's dropped the contact, instead loosely holding her arms in front of herself, her hand encircling one slim wrist with her fingerless gloves.
Maybe he reads it in her body language, maybe he's just feeling it too strongly himself… maybe they did die, were atomized into one another on that beach, molecules sifting together, and he can't feel complete without her now.
Stop that. A dying moment is not a contract. Stop.
Her breathing stutters when he reaches out first and she looks down at his hand then up at his face, swallowing once. Somehow it's so much different from Bodhi, whom she practically clings to at any given opportunity. Rather than try to analyze it, she launches herself forward, ignoring his hand to wrap her arms around his whole person, trying to be gentle even as her fingers fist in the fabric at the back of his jumpsuit. An impromptu, but anything except gentle embrace filling up the moment that would have remained otherwise empty, her eyes filling with tears just as quickly.
If he has lingering pain from his injuries at the embrace, he ignores it utterly. His arms go around her at once, holding her tightly, back; and his breath is shaky too, but deeper, in restoration. He wouldn't complain, they're both alive and together, but he never wants her ripped from his arms again.
He pulls back just enough to look into her face, bring up one hand to touch her cheek. Then uses it to palm shut the door and, keeping an arm around her, move them to where they can sit. "Tell me everything."
Jyn's breath catches all over again at the touch to her face, leaning into his hand for a moment that stills before he's tugging her towards the bed. She sits on the end of it with him without protest, angling her body towards him so that their knees brush, but her hands fall to her lap, needing a bit of space to gather her thoughts.
"I've been here 8 weeks now, Cassian. I know that doesn't make any sense, that Scarif was moments ago for you. It was for me, too, when I first arrived. And Bodhi, he's been here at least twice as long. There are other people here, too, from our galaxy, but not from our time. Some have heard of Rogue One and what we've accomplished, but many know nothing about it. Stop me if I'm going too fast." She swallows, reaching for his hand this time and dragging it so it rests on top of her knee, laced with hers. "Most people aren't from there though, but a planet called Earth. And this station... We believe it was built by people of that planet as well, though it's impossible to tell how long ago they abandoned it."
For a lightheaded moment, Cassian wakefully dreams he's arguing with Kaytu over whether or not there are afterlives.
His fingers, twined with Jyn's, anchors him. He looks down at their joined hands and wills his brain to stop spinning.
There's so much to parse, but does it ultimately matter…? if the kyberblast didn't annihilate them but instead opened a hole in space-/time-… if they did die but were resurrected in some fashion to come here… if they were captured and kept in staggered stasis, if… if… if…
But whatever it is…
"I'm still stuck," he says aloud, slowly, "on how we're here to begin with. But… I get to have more time with you. So I guess I don't care. I accept that gift, and whatever I have to do to keep it. If that's learning about and perhaps serving this station… I accept."
She squeezes his hand so hard it must hurt, but she doesn't let up, staring directly into his eyes.
"Good because we don't have a choice. We have to help these people get back to where they belong." And maybe... if they get more time together because of it, she can live with that.
He stares back into her eyes. Had he precisely catalogued before their exact shade of green? And the flecks in them… like…
Stardust, he remembers and realizes. Of course.
He wants suddenly to kiss her.
…All right. Not suddenly. He's wanted to kiss her for a while. Since before arriving here. But he'll never trust it if it's initiated by himself, so he makes no move.
The squeeze hurts a little but he wouldn't have her let up for anything. He squeezes a bit more gently back.
"Is it wrong," he says quietly, "that the only thing I sort of… am not… entirely grateful for… is that I thought I was finally… finished?"
She narrows her eyes, oblivious to his intentions. She takes comfort from their proximity, but she's much more focused on his words than his lips.
"You wanted to die," she cautiously floats out as a theory, uncertain if she's right or even what it means. She's still not even positive they are dead - will be? It's impossible to know as long as they're here. Jyn lets go of his hand abruptly, but stays close, nodding once. "I'm tired, too." But that doesn't mean they give up. Neither of them are capable of that.
"I was ready to die." He doesn't seek her hand again, much as he feels its loss. "I'm glad to be alive. I guess it's petty. I devoted my life to a cause, I gave my life for it… and then… what's at the top of the hill but another hill."
He shakes his head at himself. "I shouldn't have said… I don't know what I'm saying. I think you're right… maybe I should get some sleep."
"You're a great many things, Cassian Andor, but petty isn't one of them." She looks to him then looks to the bed. They could rest? Start fresh in the morning. "I'm not going anywhere." Even from only next door, she is terrified he won't be here when she wakes up.
He'd just been about to ask—if he could find his way to it—if she would stay. He smiled slightly at her, one of his rare smiles that however tired and worn shifted a planet's axis. "Yes. Please stay."
He bent over to take off his boots. Straightening, he also looked at the bed. He didn't want to pressure her, but he had to ask. "I can take the floor… unless you don't mind…" Ugh, he was terrible at this.
(She might learn later that his history of intimacy was one entirely dominated by his job—he'd never had a sexual partner or a bedmate where circumstances, usually including his identity, weren't dictated by something ulterior—which left him particularly terrified of doing wrong by/to her. He wasn't sure he knew how to do any of this without some form of manipulation.)
He knew he'd find the deepest rest holding her. On the other hand, he'd be more comfortable on the floor beside where she was than on a bed in another room.
She starts working out of her boots and heavier layers until she's down to just her trousers and a long-sleeved shirt. After all they've been through, that he could think she wouldn't want him near is laughable. And, in fact, when she opens her mouth to respond a bright laugh spills out instead. Jyn grabs for his wrist as she scoots over to make room for him on the single bed, effectively pulling him back down into it.
"It's okay, Cassian."
It's different from sharing this scant space with Bodhi had been, though she isn't sure why. At least, not without identifying something she'd rather keep hidden even from herself. Her head hits the pillow, her hand still gripping his arm as he lays down to face her.
He moves as if to shed his jacket before remembering he isn't wearing it. He's not entirely sure what's under the coveralls he'd woken up in, so just undoes the front top fastenings without trying to remove them.
It's a relief to follow her lead. Not for the first time.
With a hesitance he'd never shown back home, he slips one arm under the pillow, to be under her neck. His other hand comes to rest, so lightly, on her ribs.
She remembers how out of place she'd felt without her clothes and hopes him return to him soon. The way his hand settles on her middle has Jyn releasing a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, hand coiling around his forearm and holding fast as if to keep him exactly where he is. His eyes go right through her, as close as they are, and she swallows dryly before leaning forward to rest her forehead against his shoulder. His scent is familiar and comforting and she finds herself unable to keep her eyes open in this position. Her other hand comes up from where it's been squashed between them to anchor against his chest, feeling his heartbeat against her palm and allowing it to slow her down enough to sleep. Or at least consider getting there soon.
He shifts gently, slightly, to fold his arms the rest of the way around her, resting his face against her dark hair. His chest rises against her as he breathes the closeness of her, and he also does his best to modulate his chest under her palm, as if her touch is something that could fly away.
The release of holding her finally allows his exhaustion to overtake him. But as he starts to drift off, his inhibitions lighten just enough for him to press his lips briefly to her hairline. And whisper, to either or both of them, "Welcome home."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
"Yes. I agree."
I can no longer imagine any other way
A lifetime of isolation, the only one he'd let in a droid he'd reprogrammed himself—
Kay. I'm so sorry, Kay.
—and then: Jyn Erso, the crack in the blaster casing that blew it all irrevocably open. If she hadn't said it first, would he have found the courage…?
What's too much need to put on another person?
What he saw in her face was reflected right back at her in his.
And because she'd done the harder part, speaking first, he tries to pull his weight. He sets the device almost ceremonially down in the room they've claimed for him, then turns to face her. Though his voice is only half its usual volume as he adds: "I won't leave your side again, unless you want me to."
no subject
"I just said I didn't want that, Cassian. My room is right next door. And Bodhi is on the other side of my wall."
So he always knows where to find them. It is difficult to have this conversation though it shouldn't be. And it's harder still to reach out for him after she's dropped the contact, instead loosely holding her arms in front of herself, her hand encircling one slim wrist with her fingerless gloves.
no subject
Stop that. A dying moment is not a contract. Stop.
But he holds out his hand to her.
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"I have so much to tell you."
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He pulls back just enough to look into her face, bring up one hand to touch her cheek. Then uses it to palm shut the door and, keeping an arm around her, move them to where they can sit. "Tell me everything."
no subject
"I've been here 8 weeks now, Cassian. I know that doesn't make any sense, that Scarif was moments ago for you. It was for me, too, when I first arrived. And Bodhi, he's been here at least twice as long. There are other people here, too, from our galaxy, but not from our time. Some have heard of Rogue One and what we've accomplished, but many know nothing about it. Stop me if I'm going too fast." She swallows, reaching for his hand this time and dragging it so it rests on top of her knee, laced with hers. "Most people aren't from there though, but a planet called Earth. And this station... We believe it was built by people of that planet as well, though it's impossible to tell how long ago they abandoned it."
no subject
His fingers, twined with Jyn's, anchors him. He looks down at their joined hands and wills his brain to stop spinning.
There's so much to parse, but does it ultimately matter…? if the kyberblast didn't annihilate them but instead opened a hole in space-/time-… if they did die but were resurrected in some fashion to come here… if they were captured and kept in staggered stasis, if… if… if…
But whatever it is…
"I'm still stuck," he says aloud, slowly, "on how we're here to begin with. But… I get to have more time with you. So I guess I don't care. I accept that gift, and whatever I have to do to keep it. If that's learning about and perhaps serving this station… I accept."
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"Good because we don't have a choice. We have to help these people get back to where they belong." And maybe... if they get more time together because of it, she can live with that.
no subject
Stardust, he remembers and realizes. Of course.
He wants suddenly to kiss her.
…All right. Not suddenly. He's wanted to kiss her for a while. Since before arriving here. But he'll never trust it if it's initiated by himself, so he makes no move.
The squeeze hurts a little but he wouldn't have her let up for anything. He squeezes a bit more gently back.
"Is it wrong," he says quietly, "that the only thing I sort of… am not… entirely grateful for… is that I thought I was finally… finished?"
no subject
"You wanted to die," she cautiously floats out as a theory, uncertain if she's right or even what it means. She's still not even positive they are dead - will be? It's impossible to know as long as they're here. Jyn lets go of his hand abruptly, but stays close, nodding once. "I'm tired, too." But that doesn't mean they give up. Neither of them are capable of that.
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He shakes his head at himself. "I shouldn't have said… I don't know what I'm saying. I think you're right… maybe I should get some sleep."
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He bent over to take off his boots. Straightening, he also looked at the bed. He didn't want to pressure her, but he had to ask. "I can take the floor… unless you don't mind…" Ugh, he was terrible at this.
(She might learn later that his history of intimacy was one entirely dominated by his job—he'd never had a sexual partner or a bedmate where circumstances, usually including his identity, weren't dictated by something ulterior—which left him particularly terrified of doing wrong by/to her. He wasn't sure he knew how to do any of this without some form of manipulation.)
He knew he'd find the deepest rest holding her. On the other hand, he'd be more comfortable on the floor beside where she was than on a bed in another room.
no subject
"It's okay, Cassian."
It's different from sharing this scant space with Bodhi had been, though she isn't sure why. At least, not without identifying something she'd rather keep hidden even from herself. Her head hits the pillow, her hand still gripping his arm as he lays down to face her.
no subject
It's a relief to follow her lead. Not for the first time.
With a hesitance he'd never shown back home, he slips one arm under the pillow, to be under her neck. His other hand comes to rest, so lightly, on her ribs.
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The release of holding her finally allows his exhaustion to overtake him. But as he starts to drift off, his inhibitions lighten just enough for him to press his lips briefly to her hairline. And whisper, to either or both of them, "Welcome home."