I am writing this fanfiction one day after watching the film, and feeling both awestruck and horrified by the ending. It was so beautiful, but so… romantically unsatisfying! So I am writing this fic to satisfy my need for some rebelcaptain romance! Please note that while being a fan of the films, I am by no means a "Star Wars fan" and have not read a single novel or watched any of the offshoots. Feel free to correct any mistakes made - I am relying on Wikipedia to fill in the gaps. In addition, I have only seen the film once, and am mostly running from memory.

Without further ado, here is my alternate ending to the film. Obviously, I own no rights to the film or any of the characters. Please enjoy, and review if you find the time!

Chapter one: fire and blood

There is no longer a way out of our present situation except by forging a road toward our objective, violently and by force, over a sea of blood and under a horizon blazing with fire. -Gamal Abdul Nasser

Cassian Andor always knew he was destined to die a violent death. It was a fitting end to a life violently lived, after all. Years spent fighting had long since forced him to realize that it was only a matter of time before it was his own life brought to an end by a rifle or a laser, instead of that of his target. One could only have only so many chances, and Cassian had certainly had more than his fair share of chances. He had witnessed enough death to know that there was nothing dignified about it. Life was fragile and brief; death was a mess of panic, pain, and blood.

His injuries were a single, throbbing reminder of this violent reality as his consciousness threatened to fade. Vibrant green eyes connected with his own, and as if doused with icy water Cassian's awareness returned. With a jolt, the turbolift that carried the ragged pair connected to the ground, and the captain and the rebel stumbled from what remained of the Citadel Tower into a wasteland of fire and blood.

Had it been anything other than the war machine that it was, the Death Star might have looked beautiful hovering on the Scarif horizon. As one, Cassian and Jyn Erso gazed at the orb suspended in the sky, and were blind to the carnage which surrounded them. Then her face turned, the light highlighting her cheekbone as those fierce, green eyes met his own. Those eyes had haunted him since Eadu. Dripping wet from the downpour they had faced each other, two orphans of war who had more in common then they possibly could have realised. He couldn't say when the relationship changed, but Cassian had never disobeyed an order before that day. But as he lay on the wet ground squinting through the scope of his sniper rifle, Galen Erso targeted and finger light on the trigger, a sudden and nagging doubt had filled him. Her words are still etched into his mind, a mantra which at the time had served only to intensify his guilt. Trust goes both ways. He thought he had long since buried that apprehension to kill, that weakness. That hesitation plagued him, an obstacle which frustrated the need to do whatever was necessary to further the cause, and made him question this war and the methods it demanded. It had been years since that weakness had resurfaced, and it had made his finger tremble and his heart question the order to kill. Cassian could have sworn that he had locked it away, piece by painful piece.

Somehow, Jyn's presence had begun to fracture his carefully crafted prison. Somehow, she had caused that nagging guilt he had long since buried to resurface, and force him to question why he had to kill a man who was a complete stranger. A man who was someone's father. Was it sudden, the shift from reluctant and wary colleague to loyal comrade? Or was it a slow and delicate thing, like the unfurling of petals on a budding flower? Regardless of how and when it happened, somehow, through their combined loss, Cassian and Jyn had found they were not so different, after all.

She is bracing him as they stumble toward the beach. He grips his side, and when he draws his hand back, it is sticky and slick with red. He wants to tell her to leave him, but the look in her eyes silences his words before they can form. How they have learned to communicate thoughts without the need for words is beyond him, but he knows now that she will not leave him. Not that there is anywhere for her to go - they had both witnessed the Death Star's destructive capacity at Jedha. And this time, there was no K-2, no ship to save them.

She stops abruptly and Cassian falls to his knees, Jyn collapsing to hers before him. They are both panting, gasping for breath, as their eyes lock. He fights to keep the tremor from his voice. "Your father would have been proud of you, Jyn." The words feel hollow, even to him. These are not the words that he ached to tell her. He takes her hand, and he sees in her eyes that she knows, she understands. She leans forward, her arms gripping him tightly as he pulls her close.

Cassian could not pinpoint when Jyn breached his carefully laid defences, but the hardened Rebel captain had caught himself entertaining dangerous thoughts of late. Perhaps dying for the cause wasn't the only possible ending for Cassian Andor. Perhaps the solitary prison which he had begun to meticulously construct the day he lost his parents did not need to be carried with him wherever he went. Of course, it had all been dangerous, delusional thinking from a soldier doomed to die for the cause from the age of six.

Jyn's hair had a sweet scent which was somehow not fully masked by the acrid stench of smoke and blood. Cassian closed his eyes and a smile touched his lips as he pulled her closer. She did not resist. This was a fitting end for a soldier, and he had been a fool to dream of more. Darkness threatened once again, and he marveled that his wounds no longer caused him pain. Maybe dying wasn't as awful as it seemed. Maybe the pained, terrified looks he had seen on so many others had disguised the fact that death could be a blessing.

His eyes flickered open. His ears were ringing, and the was sky too bright and too blurry. Cassian struggled to recall where he was, as some part of him realised that he was being shaken. Jyn's green eyes filled his sight, wide and urgent. She was yelling, trying to pull him up, and he struggled to focus on her words, to force his limbs to respond. Rough arms encircled his chest and he was suddenly brought stumbling back to his feet. Jyn's hand was still clenched in his own, and he tried to focus his blurry vision on his bloody fingers intertwined with her own.

He was lying on his back. He could hear shouting and the groan and screech of metal. Opening his eyes brought shifting, unfocused images until he anchored himself in her familiar green eyes. Slowly, Jyn's face gained resolution, and he felt a twinge of disquiet at her fearful look. Her beautiful, full lips were parted. She was shouting. She lowered a hand to touch his face, and it was oh so bloody. A detached part of his mind worried whether the blood was hers. Her forehead grazed his and he felt a hot wetness on his cheeks, tasting salt on his lips. Distantly, he wondered if the salty taste was from Jyn's tears, or his own blood. Sounds slowly began to resolve themselves around him: the resounding, piercing alarm of a ship losing altitude, shouts of the ship's crew, and in his ear, her voice. Stay with me. You said you were with me. Don't leave me Cassian!

He couldn't maintain his focus; he grasped at the fraying threads of his awareness as the nagging, fearful thought that he was dying was lost to the inky blackness that enveloped him. He forced his lips to form hoarse and whispered words, the tearful green eyes of the rebel, his rebel, the last image etched in his fading mind. "All the way…"

Well that is it for the first chapter! Hope you enjoyed it! I anticipate being able to post the second chapter in the next few days, after which time updates will probably come a bit slower.