The roar of the explosion is deafening.
The light, blinding.
Sand gets into her nose and mouth, suffocating, razing everything in its wake.
Touch is the only sense she have left.
She feels the sand under her knees, the pain of her wounds. She feels the heat, the blood running down her skin, soaking her clothes. She feels his body in her arms, his face buried in her shoulder, his hair grazing her cheek. And she feels her own hands tightening on the fabric of his shirt.
They're about to die.
The future of the Rebellion is safe, but they are about to die, for that is the price of lighting the flames of a New Hope. The entire galaxy has now a chance of freedom.
But she doesn't want to die.
She knew this was going to happen. She knew it when K-2SO closed the door. She knew it when the connection with Bodhi failed, when she could no longer hear shouts and machine-gun shots down below the aerial, where Chirrut and Baze were.
She had seen it in Cassian's eyes at the elevator, when everything unspoken came clear with a simple gaze.
And, definitely, she had been sure when, eyes lost into the sky, they were witnesses of the leaving of the Alliance fleet.
That didn't scare her; she had known she was going to die in battle since the day Krennic's gun destroyed her family.
Finally, after years of wandering, of hiding, of fighting to survive one day more, she feels whole:
She is a warrior who had encountered a life purpose.
She is a rebel with a cause worth dying for.
She, Jyn Erso, had made peace with her own soul and was ready to die.
Not enough, she thinks, as her eyes open slowly, watching the approaching wave that is to wipe them into oblivion.
Into the Force.
Fear set ablaze her heart, and suddenly, instinct is the only thing running through her veins instead of blood.
She doesn't want to die.
She doesn't want to die.
She doesn't want to die.
The same wind scorching her skin swallows the broken sob that escapes her throat, inaudible over the turmoil. Cassian's arms tighten around her, and she knows he had felt it, the same way she feels his shoulders trembling.
She is facing the upcoming destruction, but he faces the wasteland that had already happened, the devastation awaiting them.
She doesn't want to die, but neither does he.
He, Captain Cassian Andor, who believed himself to be no longer afraid of death.
He, who had killed so many in the name of the Alliance, who had sacrificed even his own humanity to a greater cause.
He, who had risked his own life to save a strange woman from Saw Gerrera's crumbling base.
He, who had felt for the first time in a long -oh, so long- time the touch of compassion towards a target.
He, who had deliberately disobeyed a direct order to join, even to lead a suicide mission aboard a stolen ship, ready to lose everything he had, even his own life, to protect everything he still loved.
He, who had finally redeemed himself doing the unthinkable and succeeding in his task.
And he is scared. He is afraid, he is more terrified than he'd ever be.
But he is not alone.
He feels a pang of guilt that pains him more than his own wounds, but he can't help being grateful for her presence, there, with him, at the end of all things.
Arms holding fast onto each other, they never share one last look, one last word, one last kiss. Everything is already said and, an instant before everything goes black, they search for courage in one another.
In their last moment, while she closes her eyes, he opens his.
Dust, water, flames and smoke engulf them, drowning them, throwing them around like lone leafs inside the whirlwind.
Death finds them together.
I had this one sitting in my computer since last december, a few weeks after I went to watch "Rogue One". I intended this to be the first chapter of a fix-it fic, but I don't know if I should continue. I can't make any promises and this could be left here just fine as an introspective vision of both of their minds, so I'm marking it as "finished" for the moment.
Anyway, I hope you liked it!
May the Force be with you,
Drake Rhapsody.