The first time Cassian had a visitor, he barely was able to acknowledge the fact.
It was right after his first post-Scarif life-saving surgery. Neither completely dead nor entirely alive, somewhere between bright pain and dark numbness, he finally swam towards the consciousness. Even with his eyes closed, everything seemed too much – medical droids and people talk, bacta and disinfectants smell, machinery hum, all the poking and prodding, and something resembling raindrops on his face as well. But this wasn't like that last rain he could recall, the horrid Eadu one, quite the opposite – in place of cold steady torrent this rain consisted of hot single drops, laying almost gently on his cheeks and lips. On top of that droids had started to noisily drag someone screaming towards their bed, and before he managed to find the connection between all those chaotic feelings overloading his senses, merciful silent darkness drowned him again for days.
The second time Cassian had a visitor, he was just right back from medbay, first night on his own since the discharge.
Straight from medbay bed into his bunk, it wouldn't be a comfortable night rest – actually, he suspected there wouldn't be any rest at all. Yes, he declined the share of painkillers, but there was something much worse: things going on in his mind. Each time he tried to keep his eyelids firmly shut, he could clearly see dead bodies among the fire of Scarif; with each forced deep long breath he could hear distant explosions echoing inside his skull; each turn on the mattress induced gnaws of pain, so unlike the comfort of Jyn's arms when she was keeping him upright and almost painless in what seemed at that time to be their end. With those issues, focusing on literally anything was next to impossible; even such a seasoned spy as Cassian had problem noticing weird noises coming from behind his own door. His ability to move around was heavily limited, so when he finally dragged himself to take a look outside his room, the corridor was empty. The only thing out of ordinary were distant hurried steps; that, and a piece of cloth he almost stepped on right past his threshold. Instant recognition run through the man's brain, even if he had no idea what this could mean. Clutching the item to his chest like a child would clutch the most precious rag doll, a good luck charm against bad dreams, he returned to bed and managed to finally fall into dreamless sleep, the kind that was bringing rest - not torment.
The third time Cassian had a visitor was just a day after the second one.
He wasn't really sure if Jyn's scarf he found last night was dropped by her purposely or by accident. He was sure though that he's strong enough to see her and talk with her about everything that happened during Scarif mission and after it; death and survival, victory and loss. Curiously enough, he wasn't able to find her. The quarters she got from Rebellion were empty, looking barely lived in, except for crumpled blankets on the floor. Unfortunately for Cassian, his stubborn search for Jyn didn't come out exactly as planned, because he obviously overestimated his half-healed condition. During the short time he was active and rested enough to limp around the base no one could tell him anything more than he already knew or suspected: that Jyn had left the medbay way before him and that she didn't leave Yavin yet. Completely exhausted with his efforts, Cassian had already thought about giving up hope on telling Jyn anytime soon what he felt on the Scarif beach, or last night, and came back to his room – only to find out he has a visitor. Jyn was laying there, in the middle of his bunk, curled up and crying for probably a really long time, if her sobs mixed with hiccup sounds were to be of any indication. Pushing away fresh fatigue and pain throbbing in muscles and bones, Cassian slowly sat on the edge of bed. Afraid to startle this strong and yet so vulnerable woman, even more slowly he crawled towards her. He wanted nothing more than to surround her shaking form with his arms, to offer her even this small bit of comfort and protection. She didn't push him away, instead just clawed her palms into his. He kept them laying like that for a while, just breathing slowly and then softly rocking them both, not a spare thought on what it might do to his unfortunate spine. Gentle cradling finally had an effect; in feeble voice, choking with tears, Jyn managed to tell the story of her time after leaving the medbay. She tried to get some rest then, she really did want to regain some strength, but her days and nights were entirely made of minute-long naps always ending with wake ups to the nightmares of their – his – death on Scarif, again and again and again. She badly needed to know he's alive, still out there, she needed this to keep herself sane. Shaken at first, Cassian quickly found a way to respond: to simply tell her the truth, Force knows it's one of the most powerful things in the universe. He closely wrapped Jyn's body with his and told his own story, how he had missed her arms and voice, how he couldn't risk losing her, not now and not ever. Apparently not just their bodies were mangled: that place, Scarif, had messed up their souls all the same, making them fragile without each other; but also making them truly important to each other in many different ways than just seeking support. Holding Jyn tightly, Cassian took an oath - whispered into her messy hair - to be there for her from now on each night, every night and all of her days – because she wasn't just a guest to his life, she was a vital part of it, and he had just learned that he was the very same to her life: no longer a visitor.
A/N: As messed up as I seem to be, I can not only kill my beloved fictional characters in gruesome ways, but also quite the opposite – offer them new life and comfort in each other. Yes, you guessed it - it was Yet Another Bad Sleepless Night TM – and yes, I couldn't decide on the title so kept both versions :)