Chapter One: Jyn
She wanted to kiss him on the beach. She imagined how he'd taste - of salt and sweat, fear and fire. But loneliness was the hardest habit to break, and instead she pressed her face into the crook of his neck, eyes squeezed shut, willing herself to picture their lives together in a single instant. They would fight, at first at least, until their relief at a second chance would force them to tangle their hands together and smile and forget. The Rebellion would win, and they would have a little house by the ocean, a different ocean. And maybe she would even smile down at a daughter, a little girl with brown-black hair who represented all she had ever lost. Jyn laughed, choked on the promise of what could have been, and prepared for the end.
Except the shockwave didn't come, and a Rebellion ship picked them up in time. She still couldn't believe it. For hours afterward she wandered, half-dead, the world around her blurred. She clung to Cassian, her hand draped around his collarbone, refusing to believe the slurring of their heartbeats together, of hers thudding in her chest. She was dimly aware that the crew on board tried to talk to her, but she stared ahead uncomprehendingly. People don't talk to ghosts, she thought. I am a ghost. When they landed she tried to stagger out of the ship but collapsed, first onto her knees, and then into a cool, quiet darkness.
Waking under the bright lights of the medbay would have been like heaven, except for the pain. It coiled around her head and shoulders, pooled in the joints of her legs. That's not right, she thought absently, drawing in a heavy breath. The dead don't feel pain. Then she heard the beeping of machines, the soft hum of droids, the mutter of people outside. Jyn, someone was saying. Jyn Erso. Can you hear me? She could, though her mouth and tongue were numb, absent, as if she'd never used them before.
"Yes," she managed finally. Her voice was harsher than she remembered.
"Good." It was a doctor - human, or human enough - who returned to his clipboard after glancing at her. "You've been unconscious for three days. Do you know where you are?"
"No," she whispered, still in disbelief.
"You're in a rebel base. On Hoth. The ships had to divert after the Imperial military attacked. I'm sure you'll be briefed on the rest soon." He smiled, as if he wanted to say something more. "But congratulations, Ms. Erso. You'll be fine." Jyn sat up in bed as the doctor turned to go, struggling to overcome the piles of blankets on her chest.
"And Cassian? Where is Cassian Andor?"
"Captain Andor is just there, three beds down. Have a good night, Ms. Erso. Stay warm." Jyn turned to look as the glass doors hissed closed after the doctor, glancing right and left. Three beds down…There he was, pale and still, a bandage on his head and his chest encased in even more. But the monitor to his left showed his pulse, a steady, reassuring beep, and she closed her eyes and sank bank with a relief so heavy she thought it might drown her. She wasn't alone. He was here with her, again.
Alive.
Two days later and Jyn was up, pacing around the base and the medbay in thick layers of nylon and furs, but Cassian was still asleep. She received the requisite congratulations, and people treated her with a hushed, reverent respect that was new and awkward and almost unwelcome. She hadn't been assigned a new mission yet, and she wasn't sure she wanted one. In fact, she wasn't sure she wanted any of it, the living from chance to chance. Watching her life narrow before the rush of the oncoming explosion had shaken something inside of her loose, that small part that cried out for an end to running. It was years since she felt safe, since she drank that last cup of milk in her father's house and smiled, nose wrinkled, under her mother's kiss. Jyn hadn't realized how much she wanted that again.
Three days later and Cassian finally awoke for the first time. Jyn perched on the edge of his bed, filled with jittery gratitude, as his eyes settled on her.
"Jyn," he breathed, still hazy from sleep and medicine. She smiled, a real smile, and smoothed the sheets at his side.
"We made it," she said. "Somehow."
"And the others?"
"They didn't." She felt a knot in her throat, the weight of everything destroyed. Cassian sighed, settling back against the pillows.
"And you're all right?"
"Just fine, except for the cold. We're on Hoth. It turns out the medbay is one of the only heated rooms on base." Cassian smiled, reaching out to touch the fur at her collar.
"Lucky me." His hand wandered upwards, skimming the heat of her neck, her temple, the curve of her jaw. She found herself leaning into his palm as he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her.
It would be hard to leave when his touch felt like home again.
Four days later and Jyn was standing at the threshold of the base, staring into the snow and sky, her breath swelling back into her face like dragon smoke. She looked out into the stars, glittering in the blue-black ripple of evening. So many planets, and so many people, and she was just a speck on one, a crater of ice in the darkness, and her friends weren't even that. Not anymore.
"Are you thinking about them?" Cassian came up behind her.
"Always," she said. He moved closer, his breath warm on her ear, the side of her face.
"We'll keep fighting for them." Jyn grasped the arm he looped around her shoulder, tilted back into his chest. She could feel his heart, just like on Scarif, when everything except him seemed to shrink away into nothing. We've done enough, she thought. Lost enough. How could you stand losing more? But she stayed silent and breathed into him, and was a little less cold.
Six days later and they were in the mess hall together, still a curiosity to the others on base. Most people gave them a wide berth, but Jyn wasn't immune to the whispers.
"I've heard the rumors too, you know," she said, leaning forward.
"Oh? And what are those?"
"That a promotion is in order for someone, Major Andor." Cassian had the decency to avoid her eyes, to pick half-heartedly at the food in front of him.
"It's not official yet."
"I didn't think it was, though I did hope I might know before the rest of the rabble." He was quiet again, just knit his brows together and shook his head. This silence was different, and Jyn wasn't sure she understood it. She heard the rumors of his promotion days ago and waited for him to tell her, but the moment never came. It tore at her a little bit. Major. Another division between them. She wondered if Cassian knew, if he could tell by the heaviness in her eyes that she was thinking of running. Maybe that was why he didn't say.
"Well, it doesn't matter," she continued, lifting her tray into the trash. "I think a celebration is in order."
"Don't be silly Jyn, it's not even-"
"Oh come on," she said in exasperation, hands on her hips. "When was the last time you celebrated something? We're alive, aren't we? We got the plans, didn't we? Can't we allow ourselves to be happy for once?" It must have been that - her irritated happy for once - because he rose too, his hand on hers.
"All right," he said, something like a smile approaching his face. "All right. What do you have in mind?"
The celebration was three bottles of Coruscant champagne, the best wine either of them had seen in years. Usually the only liquor available to rebels was the home brewed sort, the kind that burned on the way down and hit the head hard. He looked at it aghast at first, questioning where she found them - from someone who has good taste, she replied mysteriously - before giving in.
They drank first to Chirrut and Baze, Bodhi and Saw, to K-2SO and her father, and to all of those that had come before. They were quiet after that, but the champagne pushed through the sadness as they collapsed on the floor next to the bed. Jyn took a big swig from her bottle, tipping her head back. Everything was warm, the night effervescent, and she looked at Cassian from the corner of her eye. He was glancing down at the bottle between his legs, his face softer than she had ever seen, like the man he could have been without the war. Cassian caught her stare and smiled, taking another gulp of champagne.
They talked about a lot, after a while. About the most expensive thing she ever stole (a necklace from the wife of some senator, balking at his mock outrage, you think I got sentenced to twenty years hard labor by being good?), the first job Cassian ever did (a scout who followed suspicious characters landing on-world), the job she got the biggest paycheck for (smuggling a load for Jabba the Hutt), and his biggest phobia (heights, he said, if you can believe it after what we did).
She learned that his favorite color was blue, and that his eyes squinted closed when he grinned, and that the more she talked the closer he inched to her, until their shoulders and knees knocked together when they laughed. When she looked down again her bottle was gone, and golden sparks swam in front of her eyes.
"Prettiest girl you've ever kissed," she slurred, shocked at her forwardness, dropping the empty bottle on the ground.
"That's not a fair question," he said.
"Why not?"
Jyn didn't know if he or her leaned in first, but his mouth on hers filled her with light, and his hands grabbing her by the waist made her teeter perilously close to saying she would do anything, anything, to kiss him again. She broke away gasping, his hands still on her cheeks, but when she looked up there was something different in his eyes, something empty and lifeless and impossibly sad.
"I'm sorry," he was stammering, the words melting together, as she moved towards him again, confused.
"What do you mean? What are you saying?" The room started to spin, started to darken, and it was almost impossible to stand after a whole bottle of champagne, after the last time she drank had to have been months before, even years before.
"I'm sorry Jyn, I'm sorry. We - we can't do this." He was stumbling too, his hands in his hair, backing away.
"I don't - "
"It goes against every rule, every guideline - " She was angry now. She felt it rising in her, tearing at her throat, threatening to overcome her.
"And you care about them? Rules and guidelines?" She scoffed, the room revolving, growing more unsteady and hurt with every word she spoke. "Yes, you're always Mr. Follow the Rules. That's why we went rogue and stole the plans for the death star-"
"That was different!" Cassian's hands were over his face.
"Why? Why was that different?"
"I didn't - we were doing the right thing, Jyn. This is isn't right."
"Really." The words hit her, deflating her, in an instant. Not right. "I see. Am I not good enough for you, Major Andor? Is that it?" He was silent, half-turned away from her, mouth agape. "I was good enough for our mission, good enough to drag you off that beach, good enough to hold your hand in the sickbay. But now, now that we're back, surrounded by your precious Rebellion, and you tell me that I'm not good enough?" Was she crying now? She didn't know.
"That's not what I meant." She ignored him, all the fury and grief of the last month sinking into her.
"Fine, Cassian. I'll leave you alone. I'm not used to people sticking around anyway, remember?" Jyn turned on her heel, leaving him to look after her with a regret that she couldn't see.