The way time was measured in the galaxy was different from world to world, but Scarif's day length was not far from the universally accepted time measurement most of the galaxy accepted as the norm. Thus, it wasn't difficult to determine that it took almost twenty days after the attack for Jyn and Cassian to be near full health again.
There was little for either of them to do but heal. Once Cassian's legs had healed enough for him to walk (four days), he traveled with Jyn around the ruins of the island to scavenge. At first, they made sure to find enough rations and medicine, but those supplies weren't too difficult to attain from the ruins of the many cargo ships around the planet, as most had at least basic supplies. They'd even managed to find clothes that fit Cassian more comfortably than the over-sized uniform Jyn had originally found for him.
Once those basic necessities were covered, the more pertinent question was how they would eventually leave the planet. Scarif didn't have a population outside of the island that the Empire had used, and, even if it did, they would've needed a way to travel across the planet's enormous oceans. As it stood, they were more likely to find a way off planet or at least to communicate with off planet locations (though, ideally, the Alliance) using something from the remains of the Imperial base.
Neither Jyn nor Cassian had yet to bring up what they would do next or whether they should return to the Alliance or not. Jyn had little to no loyalty to the organization, and Cassian had already given so much of himself to the Rebel Alliance that he wasn't sure he had anything left he could give… or was willing to give.
As their bodies healed, Jyn and Cassian didn't pursue more romantic gestures than being physically near one another at all possible times, a habit that had formed early in their relationship, well before either had fully understood the extent of their feelings for one another. The kiss from their third day of survival wasn't forgotten, but they always had more immediate concerns. The demons of their souls were on the back burner once they were able to pursue pragmatic goals once again.
Communication. Transport. Departure.
Jyn was more interested in transportation, not wanting to communicate with anyone else in the galaxy; she didn't have anyone left in the galaxy she cared about. They'd scoured the whole island by day twenty (they still spent most of their days sleeping, all the better to heal their wounds and to postpone the inevitable discussion of what would come next, really). No ships were functional. All communications had been knocked out by the blast. Jyn and Cassian may have survived the Death Star's attack on the base, but it was looking more and more unlikely they would get off world.
Given enough time, Cassian knew enough to construct a functional craft out of all the pieces left behind from the formerly functional crafts. That could take months, though, and if an easier solution existed, the pair was determined to find it first. In the meantime, that search, along with other matters, drew their attention.
On day ten, Jyn had been unable to convince Cassian not to explore near the master switch where he witnessed the same horrendous image of their friends that she'd seen earlier on. In better health, the two of them proceeded to honor their fallen brethren by making a funeral pyre and placing as much as they could find of the remains of their former companions. Fittingly, it was sunset when Jyn lit the pile of brush, and the flames danced across Chirrut and Baze's remains as their bodies merged with the universe much as their spirits had become one with the Force.
There were other corpses to be found, mostly Imperial storm troopers that they left where they found them, but also several other Rebel Alliance fighters. Eventually, making a funeral pyre for each became too much, and a wrench of guilt stuck in them as Jyn and Cassian instead gathered all the bodies together for a mass burning. It was tradition to burn the dead, but it somehow didn't feel right.
During these impromptu funerals, Jyn and Cassian stared at the victims before them, eyes unwavering as they soaked in the smoke and heat and guilt of their roles in the demise of those before them. Each held the other's hand tightly, both to comfort the other and to seek comfort for themselves. No words were exchanged. There was nothing to say.
Cassian still fell asleep more easily than Jyn did. He was often sound asleep, his breath warming her neck as he lay, arms around her, body beside her, as they always slept now, but she would be wide awake. Her thoughts were filled with memories of every kind of pain she'd experienced or exacted on others. She remembered her mother's murder and her father's capture. She remembered Saw's abandonment. She remembered prison. She remembered Saw's death. She remembered her father's death. She remembered giving K2 the blaster and him locking the door and sacrificing himself for them. She remembered Cassian's fall and when Krennic's blaster was pointing at her and she was ready to die. She remembered that she didn't die. She remembered seeing the blast coming for her and Cassian as they kneeled on the beach. She was ready to die then too.
Was she still ready to die?
Jyn didn't have an answer to that question. She didn't know whether Cassian was thinking along the same lines. She knew he was struggling to rationalize his continued existence as much as she was, but they both spent so much of their day on other subjects and missions that the existential devastation they were trying to process was still, well, unprocessed.
Eventually, Jyn fell asleep each time. Sometimes she awoke first; sometimes Cassian did. When she would awake first, she'd see him brooding in the same way she did each night. In a misguided effort to protect each other though, they didn't allow themselves to share these worries with each other again. Not yet, at least.
Jyn planned to let Cassian back into her thoughts. She didn't want to keep them from him; she just didn't quite know what her own thoughts were yet. If she didn't know what she wanted to say, she didn't like to say anything. She certainly didn't know what she wanted to say about anything that had happened since they'd first arrived on Scarif.
But by the twentieth day, Cassian's ribs were mostly healed. Jyn's leg was still a bit unsteady, but she could walk in the improved splint she had built without any kind of crutch. Most of their bruises had faded, and their cuts had closed. The increased amount of sleep and the medicine they had found had worked together to shorten their healing periods pretty significantly.
Cassian certainly was used to getting right into the next disaster even when he was nursing a serious injury. This kind of vacation (albeit a somewhat nightmarish vacation) was a heretofore-unknown luxury to the rebel spy. Jyn too was used to brushing off anything that happened to her body. The fact that she wasn't itching to get to the next thing was indicative of just how psychologically stumped she was.
Eventually…
"I don't want to go back," Jyn said, quietly and firmly.
Cassian looked over at her. They'd been sitting around the makeshift campsite they'd improved upon over the past several days. There was a fire pit in the center, perfect for cooking fish that had started swimming nearby the island once again and warming them as the nights got mildly cooler; though the planet never got too cold, Scarif's coolest season was approaching. They'd arranged makeshift seats from pieces of debris. They were eating a dinner that was comprised of both fish and some of the tasteless food rations that still made up the majority of their meals. The sun had recently set, and they'd been sitting and eating quietly ever since.
"I can't go back," Jyn continued, refusing to let her voice waver.
Silence resumed for some seconds before,
"I can't either."
Jyn hadn't been looking at Cassian as she spoke, but now her eyes met his. "I don't know if I want to know whether we succeeded or not," Jyn continued, more confident knowing that she was speaking with an understanding audience. "I can't decide if all this-" she gestured around her "-was worth it if we did. And I know it wasn't if we didn't."
"I feel the same," Cassian said. "I don't want to know. I don't want to care."
Jyn felt guilty at that. "I want to care. I can't right now."
Cassian didn't seem to feel that same guilt as she did. "You and I don't have to feel the same way. I'm out. I'm not going back. Sure, the rebellion is important, but they need better men than me.
"I always used to think that my personal tragedy made me a better soldier for the Alliance," he continued, pouring his mind out to Jyn in a way he never quite had in words before. She listened intently. "I had all the motivation in the world and no loved ones to live for. I was smart and learned all the skills I could. I'd take the missions others weren't comfortable with. I could do what others couldn't. I could kill anyone, and I would do it because it was for the only thing I cared about: the rebellion."
His eyes never wavered from meeting hers. He wasn't darker or scarier with this explanation. In fact, Jyn saw him as more raw and vulnerable than he had been in all their time together.
"I don't care about it anymore, though. I know the Empire is evil and that it must be stopped, but I don't want to give myself to stopping it anymore. I don't have anything left to offer."
"That's not exactly true," Jyn said, matter-of-factly. "You could do exactly what you used to do."
Even before he responded, she knew that was wrong. "No, I can't," Cassian said, almost a little harshly. "I couldn't kill your father could I? I didn't have anyone to disappoint before."
Jyn pursed her lips a little. "You know that I understand why you've done what you've done, Cassian. I don't begrudge you for anything you've done."
"To be fair, you don't know everything I've done."
"It doesn't take much to guess." Jyn smiled.
Cassian couldn't help himself, and he smiled back at her. "Regardless, I care about my own soul now. Before, I was willing to sacrifice my own humanity."
Against her own wishes, Jyn couldn't help herself but follow the logical path, "Then you are the better person the Alliance deserves, aren't you?"
Cassian laughed. "Maybe," he said, "but I don't want to find out. I'm out. Shouldn't you be happy about that? Don't you want to leave them behind too?"
Jyn's smile faded a little. "I wanted to do what was right."
"And now?"
Jyn's smile faded further, and her eyes fell from Cassian's. "I still want to do what's right. I don't know what that is, though."
"Neither do I."
Neither Jyn nor Cassian knew what to say next. The conversation had produced an edict – whenever they did get off world, they wouldn't be going to Yavin 4, certainly not right away. Regardless, they were still going to get off world sooner or later.
It happened to turn out to be sooner.
~~goddammit~~
~~let me insert a break~~
~~inserting a break here?~~~~
~~okay so whatever~~
pouring one out for Carrie Fisher tonight, folks :(((
