The alley was dark, almost pitch black, but that was of little consequence to Cassian Andor. He knew where he was going. He'd been there... how many times? Too many.
It was late. He knew the family that occupied the house at the end of the street would be asleep. He knew their schedule well, had memorized it down to the seconds. At twenty-four, his mind was still pliable enough to make memorizing large amounts of data easy.
Cassian approached the door and took out the key. For such a poor family, they had a great deal of security. Any attempt to enter the house without the key would result in alarms being raised and half a dozen attack droids released. He inserted the key into its slot, heard the lock click, and silently pushed open the door.
He knew the layout of the house well enough to be able to navigate it with his eyes closed. Thankfully, that wasn't necessary. Dim lights illuminated the house. He made his way silently up the staircase and through the first open door on the left.
There it was: his target. The boy was young, just four years old. He'd held that child himself countless times while his mother made dinner or his father explained the inner workings of a respirator.
Quick and quiet. No screams. Don't raise alarms. Don't get caught.
Cassian approached the low bed and peered down at the peaceful face of the child. A child. A young, innocent child whose only crime was being born with the Force flowing through him so strongly that the Alliance couldn't risk the Empire finding him.
Their solution to that problem? Cross him off.
Cassian had never killed anyone this innocent before. Not really. Not like this. He could take out Stormtroopers like any other rebel, but those faceless humanoids didn't count. He could even assassinate Imperial lackeys. But this child was drastically different. His hands shook as he took the tiny blaster from his belt. It was the smallest and the quietest weapon the Rebellion had to offer, and he was going to use it to end this little boy's life.
His hands shook. He couldn't see straight. His mind reeled. He couldn't do this.
He imagined this child holding a pulsing, red lightsaber; stabbing it through Leia's heart. He imaged this boy leading an army of Imperial troops, destroying the Rebellion, slaying the senators, leaving the galaxy completely unprotected.
He steeled himself. The blaster went off in his hands. He smelled burning fabric, and something worse. The child woke for just one moment, and let out a whimper that would be burned into Cassian's mind for the rest of his life.
The boy went completely limp. The smoking hole in his chest seeped dark blood. Cassian backed away from the body. He felt dizzy, sick to his stomach.
He wanted to scream, cry, use the blaster against himself. But he couldn't. He had to get back to the Rebellion.
A noise made him turn. The boy's mother stood in the doorway, frozen in horror. She stared at him with more than fear. It was the look one gives a betrayer, an enemy, a murderer. She had invited Cassian into her home, and he had killed her child.
Cassian turned and ran. He didn't care about the attack droids, didn't care about his own miserable existence. The dash to the ship was a blur of tears as a deep pain made its home in his chest.
Cassian woke with a start. He sat up, panting for breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He saw nothing for a full minute. His eyes pinched shut as he took deep, even breaths.
That was behind him. That child, that family, that god-forsaken rock of a moon, was all behind him.
He almost laughed. No, it wasn't. What he'd done on Omnibus VIII was as real as it had ever been.
Cassian looked up, trying to find something concrete to take hold of, to ground him. Moonlight poured through the window that took up an entire wall of the hotel room. Outside, the Synop skyscrapers stretched on to the horizon, casting lights of their own like stars. The shadows stretched lazily across the room. The air conditioning unit hummed softly, creating a peaceful white noise.
Cassian looked at the spot beside him. Brown hair shone softly in the pale light that made her fair skin gleam. She was the image of peace, her expression completely relaxed.
What had Cassian ever done in his entire, miserable life to deserve to sleep next to Jyn Erso? What had he done that would merit the honor of seeing this vision beside him? He would have counted it a privilege to be killed by an angel like her, and instead he got to experience her closeness.
His life had never been fair, but this was the most inequitable of all. Why did he get to love, and be loved in return, when that little child had been murdered before he could even string together a meaningful sentence?
Cassian's hands shook as he slowly touched her cheek, moving a strand of hair out of her face so he could see her better. His trembling finger slid down her face, starting at her forehead and working its way down her temple, cheek, and jaw. She truly was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
She didn't wake, not even when he finally lay down again and pulled her close. He used her as a tether to the world, keeping him in the present. He breathed in the scent of her hair, ran his fingers down her neck and shoulder.
He'd been so close to giving up. He'd lost all will to live, surviving on only instincts of self-preservation. She'd given him back his life, and made it worthwhile to fight for it again.
What had he ever done to deserve her?
Jyn woke slowly, out of the most peaceful sleep she'd had in years. She took a moment to gather her thoughts before opening her eyes. She was in a hotel room in Synop, capital city of the Craine system, and had been for the past two nights. She'd fallen asleep in Cassian's arms, and judging by the gentle pressure around her waist and the hand holding her own, not much had changed.
She opened her eyes, and the first thing she saw were his dark eyes staring back at her. Normally, that would have terrified her, likely sending her into a defensive attack, but not now. Now, it made her smile. He returned the smile with a small one of his own.
"What time is it?" she asked.
Cassian looked behind her at the clock, then back at her eyes. "8:47 in the morning. Why?"
"Just curious." She suppressed a yawn. "Did you sleep okay?"
"Yes."
His answer was too short and quick to be the truth. She scanned his face as one would read a map, and became aware of the slight shaking of his hand held in hers. He'd had another nightmare.
She decided against asking him about it. If he wanted to tell her, he would in his own time.
"I thought you'd have been up by now," she said. "How long have you been awake?"
His answer was vague. "A few hours."
"Hours? Why aren't you up?"
He shrugged. "Why would I be? We're here to relax, right? I'm relaxing."
She smiled, and gave him a playful look. "How long have you been staring at me?"
He shrugged. "Pretty much since I woke up."
She laughed. "Am I really that fascinating?"
"You'd be surprised," Cassian teased.
She rolled her eyes, and looked at him for a moment. "We haven't talked about when we want to go back," she pointed out.
He was tempted to suggest that they never go back, but he knew it was a childish, irrational proposal. He'd all but promised K that he'd be back, anyway. And what would he do for the rest of his life if not work for the Rebellion?
"When do you want to?" he asked.
"Well, how long do fake missions like this usually last?"
"It depends on what we dig up," he replied. "Often they last days, sometimes weeks, and occasionally months."
"How long to do want to stay?"
"That's up to you, Jyn."
She thought for a moment. "I guess we could always decide later."
"Good idea," Cassian approved.
Jyn sat up and rubbed her stiff neck. Cassian watched her without interruption. She'd still cough every now and then. Was that normal for someone who'd nearly been choked to death by the Force? He had no way of knowing. He'd never heard of anyone who Vader tried to choke but didn't finish off.
She'd slept in a sleeveless top, exposing both of her shoulders. The burn mark on one shoulder was still raw, but it didn't seem to bother her.
As if sensing what he was thinking, Jyn looked down at him and said, "It's fine. How's your side?"
He shrugged. "It's alright." He sat up, stretched, and stood. Jyn watched him run a hand through his dark hair before walking over to the closet. His torso was bare, except for the thick, breathable bandage wrapped around his waist, keeping steady pressure on the injury in his side. She scanned over the patchwork of scars across his back while he faced away from her. She wanted to ask about each one of them, but doubted she ever would. She had her fair share of scars, too, and none of them made for good conversation.
She decided to take a shower. Maybe the hot water would ease the tension in her neck. She grabbed a change of clothes and headed to the bathroom.
The shower was made of some ultra-durable glass, and the rest of the room was all white tile and silver accents. The whole hotel had a silver and glass theme, and while she generally found those two things sterile and cold, she liked them there. She turned the water on and stripped the layers of clothes off while she waited for it to heat up. She climbed in the small compartment and let the water flow over her, through her hair, down her body.
She moved her hair to one side and let the water beat against her neck. Jyn breathed in the steam. It smelled of some oceanic scent. It reminded her of Scarif.
She wanted to stay under the cascade of water for hours, but she knew that Cassian would likely want to take a shower, too. She cut her time short, dried off, and dressed slowly. There was no need to hurry. They were there to relax, so what was the point of rushing?
Cassian had changed clothes already, and was sitting on the foot of the bed, focused on a datapad. One glance at his face told her that something was wrong. All the warmth and peace had evaporated, leaving the intelligence captain in its place.
"What is it?" she asked slowly.
Cassian didn't look at her. "Yavin. It's been destroyed."
It took Jyn a moment to process. "What do you mean destroyed?"
"It's been overrun by Imperial troops. We've lost half our men."
Jyn felt her stomach drop and something squeeze around her chest. "Who's left?" she asked breathlessly. She was afraid of the answer, but she needed to know.
"I don't know. The message is from Leia. She says everything happened so fast, they didn't have time to do a headcount." He finally looked at Jyn. She saw fear in his eyes. "They don't know who made it."
Images of her team – her family – dying without her flooded Jyn's mind. She couldn't stand it. "We have to go back!" she snapped, more harshly than she'd meant.
Cassian shook his head. "She says to stay put. There's nothing we can do now, Jyn. We have to wait for her to tell us where the rendezvous is, and she won't do that until she knows it's safe."
A familiar desperation rose inside of Jyn; a need to fight, to do something, nearly choked her. "I don't care! We have to go back! We have to find them!"
"There's nothing we can do. We're better off staying put."
Fire lit up Jyn's eyes. Cassian recognized it as that terrifying need that had frightened him the first time he'd seen it. She didn't need to say it; he knew what she was afraid of: Chirrut, Baze, Bodhi, and K-2 with Imperial blaster bolts in their chests. It was a high possibility, even a probability. But they couldn't do anything. The damage had been done.
"We have to go."
Cassian set the datapad down and faced her. He shoved down his own fear, concentrating on her. "And do what? Comb through the bodies in the rubble?"
"That's better than nothing!"
"No, it isn't! There isn't anything helpful we can do. We'd get in the way, and likely be killed for it. The best thing is to sit tight and wait for orders."
"You must know where they'd meet. You've been there for so long; Draven trusts you! Where would-"
"I don't know! Contrary to popular belief, I only know what they think I have to know. And I didn't have to know that."
"You didn't go digging for it!?"
"No! That wasn't my job!"
"How can you stand there preaching about orders when your friends are dying!?"
"THEY'RE ALREADY DEAD!"
The sentence rang through the room, suspended itself in the gap between them. They're already dead. Chirrut, Baze, Bodhi, K… they could be dead. And where had they been?
Jyn nearly marched out of the room then and there, but something held her back. She looked straight at Cassian and hissed, "We could have saved them. We could have done something. We should have been there, and instead we're days away on a pleasure trip you convinced us to take, trying to work out a relationship neither of us want! If they're dead, they're dead because of you."
The burning anger inside of her propelled her out of the room and the hotel. The fear and rage within her didn't want to be contained or controlled. Somewhere inside of her she knew how selfish, how false what she'd just said was, but she couldn't bring herself to care.
Her hands were tied. Cassian was right: there was nothing they could do.