*spoilers for Rogue One, which I have now seen twice and can't get out my head*
Our Eyes Are Burning But We Won't Look Away
Her legs buckle and his do too, so they don't even have to let go of each other as they both fall onto their knees in the sand. His hand, which has held tight to hers through their trek down from the tower, releases with a gasp, but his arm is still slung around her shoulders like a lifeline even though she was as unsteady on her feet as he was.
But that's over now—Jyn doesn't even know how they made it out of the command center so quickly. The corridors now empty of stormtroopers; the lift that had taken them down...down...down...through the darkness and the light where their eyes had met, truly, for the first time; the doors they had burst out of, as if hoping to see Bodhi and their transport waiting for them if only they could reach the ground.
This is the end of the line. The soft sand underneath her boots and against the bare skin of her leg through the jagged rip in her pant leg. The vibrant hues of orange and red light that have begun to take over the sky far across the ocean. We did it, Jyn wants to say, but he knows already. Cassian knows.
The light is brightening to a deep white now as they cling to each other, alone for a moment as the last souls on a dying world. She feels a tugging at the shoulder of her Imperial uniform and looks up to see his dark eyes gazing into hers as they had in the lift. She sees the blood and grime on his face, the soot coating his lashes. Slowly she rises to the limit her knees will take her, helps him reach this position too, the tallest their battered bodies can take them to face the end.
"Your father would have been proud of you, Jyn." His words wash warmly over her as his hand clasps hers again. The world is getting harder to look at—not just the sky and the horizon but Cassian too. Everything is bright. Everything hurts. Everything trembles with the force of the wave coming toward them, ready to blow them away like leaves on the wind with its terrible destructive force.
And yet they're upright. They're gazing at each other even though it hurts to look amidst the nuclear sunset, hurts to look for so many reasons. They're holding tight as the seawater recedes away from them, as the roar gets louder and more deafening, as the world recedes until all Jyn knows is the searing brightness in her eyes and the steady beat of Cassian's heart as her arms wrap around his shoulders, his hands pull her close.
They stand.
They watch.
They hold.
They wait.
They cling.
They live. One moment is a thousand standing here with him.
He is her lifeline, and she is his. Neither one has any hope left—their chances are spent, and they know it—but they don't need to rebel any more. They have each other. Past, present, and future, right in this moment. It has to be enough.
It is enough.
And so thinks Jyn as the brilliant white light encompasses them and the blast wave sweeps them away.
Rest in peace, Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor.