To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die.
— The Smiths, There Is A Light That Never Goes Out.
...
Rebellions are built on hope, he had once said. Jyn had been skeptical about it at first — but now, with the force of the millions of shreds their lives were being shattered into, she understood that perhaps hope, his hope, had been what had gotten them to where they were at that moment.
She understood, in a way. She knew what it felt like to lose it all at a very young age, to clench her teeth and jaw every day of her life whenever her parents came to her mind. But she had never expected that empathy would turn into a connection that linked them in a deeper way than mere understanding of the other's situation.
She thought of his parents. She didn't even know what their names used to be, or if he had had any siblings. Now that she came to think about it, she didn't even know how old he was. She didn't know whether he had been a shy kid or a starry-eyed dreamer, what his favourite colour was or if his family had left him anything to remember them with, like her mother's necklace. She didn't know a lot of things about him, but she did know that she wouldn't have wanted to leave the world, just as they were about to do, with anyone else but him.
"Your father would have been proud, Jyn." His words came out as a long, difficult whimper, which, however, sounded like the most soothing thing he could have possibly said.
And then they hugged. They would hug and then there would be nothing, but for the moment there was the two of them together, bent on their knees, holding each other tight before it all ended.
But it all felt kind of all right, at least for the moment. If anything, she was glad that he was there, with her. She wasn't used to people sticking around, and he was home.
...
Cassian was a strong man. One of the strongest amongst their ranks, the Rebellion would affirm later on. It wasn't just that he wasn't afraid to shoot, to run, to risk his life on a daily basis — he only fully grasped his own strength when he realized how numb his entire body felt after his knees landed on some Scarif beach, his hand being firmly grasped by Jyn's.
But it had been more than worth it, he thought. They had managed to stop them, in a way. If the Rebellion ever defeated the Empire — which, in spite of everything, was still Cassian's biggest dream and hope — he would like to think that they had been a key part of it. That somehow, their defeat was a striking victory for the Rebellion.
She was also worth it, too. All the thoughts, feelings and wonderings that had ever crossed his mind about her had crystalized back when they had managed to send the plans off to the Rebel Alliance. They had known each other shortly, but undoubtedly intensely, and the fact that her hand was atop of his, holding it like it was the end of the world — in a way, it was — was enough proof to make him smile, even after all they had just been through.
Her embrace, just a few seconds later, was very possibly the warmest gesture Cassian had felt in a very long time. He closed his eyes, held her close and breathed in — like the most ethereal moment in the world was an entire universe, like their lives, soon coming to an end, had just begun at the touch of the other's body.
To Cassian Andor, life was war, and war was life. Death was just something else.
Heya, Star Wars — and particularly Rogue One — fans. I know, I am dead inside too. And that's why I wrote this drabble-ish sort of thing at 2:20 AM right after I came home from the cinema, because I feel SO EMOTIONALLY DEVASTATED.
Anyway, hope you've enjoyed it. There's more to come, possibly — I've a feeling Rogue One and particularly Jyn and Cassian will be sticking with me for a while.