Jyn cradled her things and stared lifelessly at the place where she had lived for her whole life. There had been times when they had moved temporarily to another ship but they always returned here. A firm, bandaged hand clamped down on her shoulder.
Orson Krennic had some of her boxes of things in his arm as well, and his face was tired and gaunt. Perhaps the bright side to all of this was that Jyn could convince him to finally start eating properly.
She followed him out, wincing when the door slammed. They walked a little bit before arriving at his apartment. He placed his hand on the monitor next to the door.
"I have already imputed your fingerprints into the database," he said calmly, watching the door open on its own. "You should be able to unlock this door as well. Let me know if it does not work."
They entered and Jyn looked around. She had been there a few times when she was younger, and it struck her that it had changed. It was pristine, but there were signs of madness creeping up. Dents or scratches on the walls, stains of red peeking out from under a cushion on the couch.
Jyn took a breath. "So where will I be staying?"
Orson walked over to a door next to another and opened it to reveal a moderately sized walk in closet. There was a small cot in the corner, some books stacked on a battered looking end table and tiny cabinet for storing her clothes.
"I know it isn't much," Orson grumbled, glaring severely at the flickering light. "But at least-"
She grabbed him in a desperate embrace, heart hammering violently in her chest. She dug her fingers into his back and choked back a sob.
"I miss them," she gasped.
Orson took a moment to unfreeze and wrapped his arms around her. He pushed her face against his shoulder and awkwardly stroked her soft dark hair.
The crows feet at the corners of his eyes deepened, and he bit his lip so hard it bled. "I know."
Guilt made his own blood taste good. This poor girl was weeping into his shirt, unknowingly accepting comfort from the very man who had given her a reason to cry. Orson felt a shiver of self-loathing run through him and pushed Jyn away, turning around so he did not have to see her tear stained face.
He slammed the door of his bedroom closed and slid down, burying his face in his hands.
What have I done?