A.N.2. And here's installment two! Took me a little longer than I would have liked to get it posted... alas! My apologies. Ideally I am shooting for bi-weekly updates. In reality, it will probably be more like tri-weekly.
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(Five months ago continued)
As the dust clears, she sees Avax and his men rise from their shelter and begin sprinting after her and Cassian. She closes her eyes, then, and rests her head against his shoulder. The jolting of his run keeps her from falling asleep, as each step sends fire shooting through her, but she's too exhausted to hold her head up anymore.
His arms tighten around her in response and he orders fiercely, "Stay with me, Jyn."
Ever so slightly she squeezes her arm wrapped around his neck to let him know she's still there.
A few minutes later, they come to a stop and she manages to force her eyes open in time to see him kneel down and place her on the ground leaning against a cliff face. For a moment she panics, seeing the front of his shirt stained with blood, until she realizes it's her blood. Not his. Avax and the other three rebels reach them and immediately take up guard positions. Cassian breathes heavily but his movements are careful and controlled—if fast—as he slips the jacket from his shoulders. "You should have told me you were hurt," he scolds, but there's no bite to his words.
"Probably," she admits, wincing as he pulls her forward in order to wrap his jacket—the only thing they have that could function as a temporary bandage—around her midsection and pull it tight in a knot behind her back, putting as much pressure as possible on her still bleeding wound.
"Definitely," he asserts vehemently.
"Okay. You win," she allows, too worn out to argue. And besides, he's right and she knows it.
He nods, though clearly unhappy at his victory. He glances at their companions before turning back to her. "I don't know how long that collapsed tunnel will hold them off, so we have to keep moving and catch up with the group."
She grimaces. "Cassian, I can't." It kills her to admit her weakness, but she's not about to allow her pride be the death of him. "There's no way I can walk that far—let alone run—and there's no way you can catch up to them while you're lugging my weight around."
His eyes harden. "Watch me," he challenges, before turning away from her, clearly waiting for her to clamber onto his back. It's the position that makes the most sense, she admits, as over the shoulder would put way too much pressure on her wound and the way he was carrying her earlier was not efficient.
If he's willing to go to the effort of carrying you, she thinks to herself, then you're damn well going to go to the effort of getting your butt off the ground. She musters what energy she has left and climbs to her knees, before wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips. He rises to his feet, huffing as he shifts her and slips his hands under her legs for support. Then they're off.
Cassian leads the way at a jog, the four other men following close behind. She buries her face in the back of his neck, biting her lip. She's sure he can feel the tears slipping down her face because they're making his neck and shirt damp, but she doesn't care. She knows he would never judge her… and it hurts dammit!
But she welcomes the pain because it's the only thing keeping her conscious at the moment and she has to stay awake in order to hold on to Cassian, because it goes both ways: no matter how hard he holds on to her, if she doesn't hold on equally as hard, there's no hope. Metaphorically and literally.
Ten minutes later, she feels him slow to a fast walk and hears murmured voices. She opens her eyes to peer over his shoulder at the struggling group they've caught up with. A young boy in the back—so skinny Jyn can see practically every bone in his body—nearly trips and falls, until one of Cassian's arms lets go of Jyn and he shoots his hand out to pull the boy upright. The boy's face shines in gratitude, until Jyn can no longer see him when Avax steps in and takes over supporting the child so that Cassian's hand can return to Jyn.
She rests her forehead on his shoulder again and focuses on breathing. That's it, Jyn, she counsels herself. Just breathe. You're almost to the shuttle, you can't stop now. The makeshift bandage of Cassian's jacket has bled through, soaking into the fabric of Cassian's back, almost as if he's the one injured. I'm glad he's not. As tough as she likes to consider herself, she doesn't think she could handle another instance like the shuttle ride home from Scarif.
Cassian shakes her slightly, hissing, "Jyn! Stay awake! We're not out of here yet. I need your eyes on lookout!"
She struggles to raise her head and turn it to the side, scanning their left. Bastard, she thinks, without conviction. She knows exactly what he's doing: making her responsible for more than just herself, for all of them, in order to keep her awake. It's a devious and genius move because it works. She won't leave him with his back vulnerable. No matter how much she'd like to be mad at him, she can't because if their roles were reversed, it's exactly what she would do.
Aloud, she mutters, "Jerk."
She sees the barest hint of a smile curl the corner of his mouth as he turns his head. "If it keeps you awake, I'll play whatever role I have to."
"Just don't get too comfortable with it," she grumbles.
Five minutes later and the shuttle comes into view. The loading door opens—Bodhi or Kay must have seen their approach—and the freed captives stream onboard with murmurs of exhaustion and exclamations of joy. Cassian and she are the last to board, the door closing behind them.
"Bodhi, get us out of here before we have company!" he yells to the cockpit, before kneeling and gently shifting Jyn onto the floor, leaning her against the shuttle wall. His dark eyes meet hers and he holds up a finger to her, ordering "Stay," before he gets up and disappears into the throng of people.
She snorts and immediately wishes she hadn't when her stomach cringes. As if I'm going to go anywhere. But even as she says that, she feels the ship lift off and energy suddenly surges through her, when a moment before she'd been ready to slip unconscious. She blinks in surprise and sits a little taller, taking in the scene of people gradually realizing they are free. There are tears of joy, blank faces of people who haven't let it sink in yet, bone deep exhaustion… and more.
She glances down at her sodden front and raises a hand to prod at it, but suddenly Cassian is there, slapping it away.
"Don't touch that," he scolds, kneeling beside her once again, med kit in hand.
"I'm fine," she insists, gesturing to her no longer slumped frame and brighter eyes.
He shakes his head and doesn't dignify that with a response—and okay, maybe she isn't fine, but he's being ridiculous.
She shifts to get her hands under her with the—possibly stupid—idea of getting to her feet.
"Hey, hey!" he exclaims, putting his hands on her shoulders and forcing her back down. "Don't be an idiot! Moments ago you almost passed out on me!" he exclaims vehemently, accent thick. "I'm not about to let your damn pride be the death of you! You're just feeling the adrenaline of successfully escaping. In a little bit, that's going to fade and you're going to crash," he informs her seriously, ripping open various medical supplies. He glances up from his work for a moment to make eye contact with her. "Trust me. I know."
I bet he does. He's the veteran when it comes to the two of them. Not that she's inexperienced—not by a long shot—but the fact of the matter is that he's four years older than she and has therefore had that much more time to gain knowledge, skill and more—plus he's been in the Rebellion a heck of a lot longer.
Dropping his gaze from hers, he directs his attention to her midsection. "Now, this is going to hurt… probably a lot," he admits. "But I'll get it over with as fast as I can," he promises apologetically.
She nods in understanding, already moving to bite her lip, but his hand to her chin stops her.
"Don't do that," he says softly. "You'll bite it clean through."
She corrects her position to merely grind her teeth together as he begins untying the makeshift bandage and peeling it away from her skin. She closes her eyes and inhales sharply, clamping down on the urge to scream. Cassian doesn't need any reason to add to his worry and guilt.
Moments later, she feels some sort of liquid wash across her exposed wound—no doubt cleaning it—but it immediately turns to fire. And she can't keep a pained growl from escaping her mouth. Cassian murmurs apologies and then she feels solid pressure, then nothing.
She opens her eyes to Cassian sitting back on his heels, wiping perspiration from his eyes. Glancing down, she spies a patch covering her wound.
"It's deeper than I would like. Don't move," he orders her for the second time, "I need to check in with Bodhi. You had better be here when I get back," he states earnestly and she knows he doesn't just mean physically.
She raises a shaky hand in a salute. "Yes sir, Captain."
He smirks and rises, moving away toward the cockpit.
She leans her head back against the wall, the adrenaline from their successful escape finally leaving her and the exhaustion from earlier setting in, just as Cassian had promised. The people in the shuttle hangar give her plenty of space and ignore her for the most part, for which she's grateful.
She's drifting off despite her best efforts not to, when something cold pokes her forehead. She jerks back, a frown on her face before she even opens her eyes to see who poked her: Kay.
The droid leans over her, head cocked to the side and shoulders hunched, something she's come to understand means he's concerned.
"There you are, Jyn. I think it best if you do not fall asleep and I am glad that I arrived in time to assist you."
"Much appreciated, K2," she thanks him sarcastically.
"Of course! A poke is easy to provide and I took no insignificant amount of pleasure in being able to poke you without fearing retaliation," he tells her and she could swear there's a note of smugness in his voice.
When she remains silent—she doesn't have the energy to do anything else—he continues, "Cassian came up front and initially I was concerned that he had been injured and wasn't telling anyone in that typical way of his, until he informed me that it was your blood, not his. As he was occupied with extracting us from this crime ridden system, I took it upon myself to come back here and ensure that you are all right. Would you like to know the results of my analysis?"
She knows he'll tell her even if she says no, so she flaps her hand in a vague way, which he interprets to mean "yes."
"Well you're heart rate is elevated, your blood pressure is low and you're exhibiting the first signs of mild shock," he informs her bluntly. "I estimate that you've lost approximately twenty-three percent of your body's blood supply, which is most concerning but less so now that the bleeding has been arrested. As long as no other complications arise, you should be fine and back to 'kicking Imperial asses'—as you so eloquently put it—in no time." He pats her knee awkwardly, but she knows it all means he cares.
"Thanks, K2," she murmurs, closing her eyes.
There's a moment of silence and then she hears him move and suddenly feels him sit down beside her. "I'll stay with you until Cassian comes back," he informs her. "Because he'll be happier if I do," he adds, as if needing to make sure she doesn't think he's not doing it for her sake.
She smiles. Her and K2's relationship has developed slowly since his reboot. Without his memory of the hectic, intense, life-and-death experience of everything from Jedha to Scarif, he began rather skeptical of her despite the fact that she made every effort to be friendly with him. Because she still remembered everything leading up to Scarif.
He made it clear from the start that he was only humoring and tolerating her for Cassian's sake and he was very wary of her. Now, they've made progress and he's starting to soften some and choose to interact with her beyond when he feels obligated to because of Cassian.
He doesn't say anything more, just sits in silent solidarity. As the ship's metal hums beneath her and the quiet murmurs of the people they freed lull her, she finds herself falling asleep, and nothing—not even K2's incessant poking—can stop her.
Sometime later, she wakes partially, just enough to feel the sensation of someone running their hand through her hair, her head resting in their lap. It takes her only a moment to identify the hand and voice as Cassian's—the callouses and accent giving him away—and she drifts back asleep content in the knowledge that she's safe.
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A.N.2. Yay! They made it!
Next chapter will have Baze in it, per the request of one of my readers.