#cassian andor x jyn erso | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

quarantineddreamer · 11 months

Text

As a Shadow | Chapter 4 - Like sunlight after rain

Happy Friday, here’s an update! It’s a pretty big one so I really hope you enjoy it! 🤞💙 (Click title for AO3, or read below)

Jyn wakes to find Cassian has shifted in his sleep and rests with his arm draped over her, a warm, comforting weight. Her face is pressed against his neck, a handful of his shirt clutched in her fingers, and with every breath he takes she feels the rise and fall of his chest–his exhales a soft whisper in her ear. Caught up in the beauty of these sensations, she doesn’t notice it at first.

She doesn’t notice that she woke up. That for the first time since before Scarif she has actually slept.

When she finally becomes aware of this fact, it’s just another mystery to add to the list. A mystery she can’t bring herself to care about when Cassian’s beard is brushing against the top of her head, pulling her focus.

She cautiously pulls away and tilts her head to catch a glimpse of his face.

His expression is serene. She can’t remember the last time she saw him looking so untroubled, and a small smile rises on her lips. She allows herself to reach for the bit of hair that has fallen across his forehead and softly brushes it back.

There is a part of her that can’t help but wonder where they would be right now if they both had survived Scarif. Would she still be here, her limbs tangled with his? She’s never been good at staying put–never really been given the chance to practice–and it shouldn’t be difficult to imagine a world in which she somehow messed it all up between them, but it is, because in every version, no matter how she dreams it, the ending is always the same: they are by each other’s side.

Jyn sighs and slowly, regretfully, extracts herself from Cassian’s embrace so that he won’t be alarmed when he wakes up. The moment they are no longer touching, her body loses most of its weight, becoming everything and nothing all at once, her grasp of the world wandering aimlessly. She remains at his side, as close as she can be without making any contact, already missing the way he brings her back to herself, grounds her and makes her seem whole again.

Cassian stirs and opens his eyes, his gaze passing through her.

“Good morning,” she says quietly. And maybe it is all a foolish one-sided game of pretend, but that won’t stop her from reveling in the sight of his hair, messy from sleep, and the creases on his cheek where the pillowcase has pressed. She will relish the fact that he is next to her, that they have passed through the dark together, whether he knows it or not.

There’s something to his stare that Jyn can’t quite place, possibly the remnants of a dream slowly slipping from his mind, and she resists the urge to wipe the slight wrinkle from his brow with her thumb.

“What are you thinking about?”

The wrinkle gets more severe before Cassian finally tears his eyes away from the wall and rolls out of bed.

He begins to work through some of the stretches med-core showed him for his back, wincing and sighing through the cracks and pops that greet him as he moves. Jyn observes from the bed, but her mind is elsewhere, reflecting on the events on Naboo.

When he was safely in her arms it had been easier to forget her concern and her frustration with him. Now, she begins to wonder what his next move will be. With a war going on there will be plenty of other opportunities for him to hurt himself, and what if the next time she’s not fast enough?

“You have to talk to someone about this Cass,” she tells him. “Today. You can’t continue like this.”

He’s at the door, preparing to leave, but his eyes have wandered back to the bed–probably to make sure he has not left anything for the next rebel that will use the room. His hand moves to clutch the kyber crystal that hangs from his neck. The brief squeeze he gives the stone finds its way to her hand as though to give a flash of reassurance. “Okay,” he sighs quietly to the empty room, flipping off the lights as he leaves.

Jyn follows Cassian as he winds his way through the stark white hallways of the Redemption, the ship humming with activity that is uncharacteristically disorganized. Along the way, she spots many tired rebels and an abundance of droids flitting about from room to room, delivering messages, the impact of the unexpected and urgent evacuation of Echo Base rippling through the Alliance’s ranks. She doesn’t envy the tasks ahead of Mothma and Draven; they will have their hands full regrouping and identifying a new strategy to pursue.

When they arrive at the bridge, Cassian catches the arm of a passing lieutenant.

“Captain Andor, um, hello,” the woman says, a bit surprised.

“Have you seen Chirrut Îmwe?” Cassian fumbles his words almost like he’s hesitant to ask. “He’s uh, he’s new. Part of Rogue One? Wears black and red robes, walks with a staff?”

“Chirrut? Really?” Jyn catches a flash of hope daring to rise in her. She had assumed Cassian was looking for Draven, to give his full mission report and update him on the loss of an informant, but if he’s seeking Chirrut then maybe he’s finally going to confide in a friend, get some help.

The lieutenant directs him to a room that has been set aside as a training hall. When they arrive, it is mostly empty and it only takes a moment for Cassian to spot where Baze and Chirrut are perched in a far corner near the window. Baze lifts a hand in greeting when he sees the man headed towards them.

“We weren’t expecting to see you for awhile,” Baze remarks. “Thought you were out on a mission.”

“The mission ended,” Cassian replies vaguely, instantly dismissing the topic.

Jyn’s optimism wanes somewhat. Guess he’s not here to talk about Naboo after all.

“So…” Chirrut taps his staff against the floor. “What can we do for you, Captain Andor?”

“I-” Cassian’s eyes fall to his feet, the certainty with which he entered the room disintegrating.

Jyn squints at him curiously, his reticence a surprise to her. In spite of everything that has happened, Cassian normally appears self-assured in his actions.

He pushes his lips into a thin line and rolls his shoulders back, seemingly to bolster his resolve. “I actually came to talk to you, Chirrut. There’s…there’s something I could use your insight on.”

“Of course. How can I help?”

Cassian’s eyes twitch in Baze’s direction. “Would it be alright if we spoke alone?” he asks, giving Baze an apologetic look. “No offense.”

Though Baze seems confused, he does not protest. “I’ll be in the mess hall,” he informs Chirrut, and departs with a brief nod to Cassian and a quick mutter about ‘spies and their secrets’ that only Jyn is close enough to hear.

“Baze could help you with what happened on Naboo too, you know,” she says, though she’s still unsure whether Cassian intends to bring it up at all. “Bodhi, Melshi, any of them would. You don’t have to be ashamed. Everyone just wants you to be okay. They care about you.”

“You are unsettled,” Chirrut states.

Cassian blinks, unnerved by the blind man’s astute observation. “What?”

“I sense your hesitation. Your uncertainty.” Chirrut hits the crate next to the one he is sitting on. “Sit, and trust that your thoughts are safe with me.”

His brow furrows, but Cassian does take a seat, leaning forward so that his elbows rest on his knees and he can stare down at his hands as he fidgets, carefully avoiding Chirrut’s gaze.

Which is ridiculous in Jyn’s opinion, because it’s not as though Chirrut can see his face, and if Cassian had wanted to hide any of whatever he was grappling with from someone then he had made a poor choice confiding in Chirrut of all people. The man was about as perceptive as they came–there had been times before Scarif that Jyn felt certain he was reading her mind.

“I…don’t know where to begin,” Cassian admits quietly.

“I find there are no true beginnings and no true ending, time flows as the Force wills it.”

“The mission on Naboo…” Jyn presses, settling herself atop a storage block where she will be able to observe the conversation between them clearly.

“Scarif…”

Scarif? A sharp pang cuts through her.

“Yes…” Chirrut murmurs, placing his chin against the top of his staff, his lips tilting downward as though pulled by the weight of sorrow.

“Nothing has been the same since.”

“I would be surprised if it was. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, but…what I meant to say is I haven’t been the same since.”

“Cassian,” Chirrut says gently. “I will sit here with you for however long you want, but I think it will be easier for both of us to understand what you need if you speak without fear.”

“My life wasn’t worth what she gave,” Cassian says on a quick exhale with a fierceness that makes Jyn’s anger flare.

“We’ve been over this, damn you!” she snaps, hands curling into fists.

“That is not for you to decide,” Chirrut replies firmly. “And there is nothing you can do to change it now.”

“But I would!” Cassian jumps to his feet and begins to pace. “I would because…” his voice goes quiet again, “I don’t want it…I don’t want any of it. Not without–”

“Without?”

He stops and his eyes wander to the nearby window, their dark surfaces become mirrors reflecting the stars beyond. “Not without her…”

And suddenly Jyn is remembering the elevator, the look on his face, all the possibilities she had allowed herself to dream of in that moment under the violent light of a planet unraveling.

“We were practically strangers,” Cassian murmurs. “And I know how crazy it sounds, but I miss her–all the time.”

“I don’t think it sounds crazy at all.”

Cassian turns back to Chirrut, runs his hands over his face and through his hair. He doesn’t lean so much as fall back against the glass behind him.

Jyn isn’t sure if it’s her imagination or not, but she thinks she notices a tremor run through him and wishes she could squeeze his hand to reassure him, same as he had unknowingly done for her that morning.

“Would it sound crazy if I told you sometimes…sometimes I think…” A shaky breath escapes him. “I swear, sometimes I think she’s still here.”

“I told you I would be…”

Chirrut gives Cassian a fond, yet sad smile. “She is one with the Force now so–”

But Cassian cuts him off. “No, you don’t understand, I saw her. In the infirmary. And even after that, I felt like she was with me, everywhere I went. Like she was trying to look out for me. I even thought…there were times I thought I could feel her, like I did on Scarif, like she was here, really here. And on Naboo… Chirrut, I was all alone, but I swear, someone saved me when I–.”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, but the memory replays in her mind against her will. That awful moment when she realized what was going to happen to him if she didn’t do anything. The moment she’d been left with no other choice but to risk damage to his mind in order to save his life.

Cassian raises his eyes to Chirrut, trying to read his reaction, but the warrior monk’s expression remains carefully blank, the slight tilt of his head revealing only that he is deep in tho ught. “I know I shouldn’t have done what I did, but for a moment I just… I remembered waking up after Scarif and seeing her, hearing her. Nothing has felt right since.”

Jyn catches the glimmer of tears as they silently begin streaming down Cassian’s face. “I think I’m losing my mind,” he says in a strangled, despairing voice.

It’s the last thing she would have ever wanted, him in this kind of pain, with this kind of doubt and fear. The sight tears into her, shredding at the fabric of her being with merciless claws. “See?” she says wanting to sound resentful, instead sounding just as broken as Cassian. And she knows the Force doesn’t have ears, but she still needs it to be known, “I’m no good here. You never should have brought me back.”

Chirrut slowly rises and finds his way to Cassian, places a hand on his shoulder. “They say for some that the Force can call upon visitors from the afterlife. The Jedi have written of it.”

“I’m no Jedi,” Cassian breathes, running his sleeve roughly across his face.

“The accounts I have heard detail glowing, blue figures that could move and speak as they did in life.”

Cassian shakes his head helplessly. “That’s not what’s happening to me.”

“Your case would seem to be different, but Cassian,” Chirrut squeezes his shoulder, “that does not have to mean you have lost your sanity. The bond you and Jyn shared was brief, yes, but powerful. I would not be so quick to dismiss what you are experiencing as delusion. The Force is vast and capable of more than we will ever know, perhaps it is trying to show you something.”

It’s difficult for Jyn to tell whether Cassian finds comfort or terror in Chirrut’s words. There is a tension to the air like thunder and a rush of frantic energy pulsing through her.

“What should I do?” Cassian asks.

“That is for you to decide. But my friend, whatever the reality of your circumstances may be, know that what Jyn did, what she sacrificed, was not done without great feeling and thought. It is okay to grieve her loss–as we all do–but she would not want you to suffer alone and in silence.” Chirrut turns his face in Cassian’s direction with a serious, intent expression that tells Jyn the brief mention of trouble on Naboo has not escaped his attention. “However you may feel about what happened, whether you agree with her actions or not, it does not matter. She would be very upset with you if you were to render her sacrifice ineffective now.”

Jyn knows Chirrut won’t feel it, but she is so grateful for his words that she gives him a somewhat awkward, heartfelt hug anyways.

“Thank you, Chirrut,” Cassian says softly, with a contemplative expression. “For your help.”

“Not in silence,” the man repeats more sternly, though there is a warmth to his tone too.

Cassian nods in promise. “Not in silence,” he agrees. “I’ll try to talk with someone.”

Cassian’s next stop is with Draven where he gives his report on the Naboo mission. At the news that an informant was turned, Draven’s expression turns grave. He has many follow up questions for Cassian, who answers each one dutifully until Jyn is left doubting Draven’s time management skills--surely the man has other places to be?

Despite all the digging Draven does and all the information Cassian gives in return, she would not call what Cassian gives a ‘full-report’. He provides no details whatsoever on his mental state and near encounter with death.

Which is why Jyn is extremely eager to see where Cassian heads once he is finally free of his commander’s incessant prodding.

“Bodhi? Melshi?” Someone else I don't know about? She is a swirling, distracted mass full of intruding anxious thoughts, but t he nerves shift instantly to frustration when Cassian walks back to his room from the night before, sees that it is empty, and locks himself away inside.

“Cassian, really?” Jyn huffs, exasperated. “When you said you’d try talking to someone I was hoping you’d mean sometime soon, like, I don’t know, before a nap?”

Who knows when Draven will call upon him again? There is a war going on after all–one whose tides have shifted yet again with the loss of Echo Base. And if Cassian doesn’t talk to someone before then, what will happen on the next mission? There cannot be a repeat of Naboo. The notion fills Jyn with a dread so deep it drags her to the floor where her energy settles amongst faint traces of dust and grime.

The scene is one she’s watched play out what feels like a thousand times since Scarif and Lah’mu. Cassian, sitting there alone and in silence, while she watches and waits, and hopes for him to return to himself.

Despondent, Jyn moves to sit on the bed beside him–as close as she dares, mindful to keep space–and tucks her knees to her chest as she is swallowed by the now awfully familiar feelings of failure and uselessness.

Except, the moment does not follow the same pattern as all the others before it.

Cassian clears his throat—the sound so unexpected it jolts her.

He does it hesitantly, almost cautiously, as though he were half-hoping it would not work. But it does, and his voice, though wavering and soft, is clear when he calls out to the empty room, “Jyn?”

She stiffens, her arms tightening around her legs. Part of her worries again about his sanity, but something feels different. His heartbeat is steady and he no longer seems frightened, more accepting, curious. For the first time, he is the one reaching out to her.

Cassian throws his hands through his hair for the second time that day and mutters something to himself in a language she cannot identify or understand. The words have the inflection of cursing. “This is so stupid,” he groans, a slight crack in his voice. “I’m being ridiculous.”

“Please, Cass?” she murmurs, shifting so that she is perched on bent knees facing him. “I would think it’s ridiculous too, but…” keep going, please… She wants to hear him say her name to her again. She’s never realized before how much that could mean, to be acknowledged and known and spoken to. How such a small, simple act could fill you with light and give you a glimpse into another’s heart.

There’s a flush to his cheeks that is just visible above his dark facial hair, hinting at his self-consciousness. He glances around the room as though to make sure his embarrassment is only his to witness. When he swallows and shakes his head, she is convinced that he has given up, disappointment flashing through her like ice.

Then he looks up, and the warmth of his voice fills the room again, growing in certainty with each word. “Jyn, I… I have so many things I want to say to you. So many things I never got to say to you. We knew how dangerous Scarif was going to be and even if we hadn’t known each other all that long yet, I should have told you how incredible I think you are when I had the chance. I thought it from the moment I saw you, sitting in the briefing room in cuffs. You didn’t seem scared at all . You were defiant and powerful, and, well, okay,” he laughs to himself. “I liked seeing how you talked to Draven, like you had all the cards–even though you were backed into a corner with no way out.”

“Okay, corner or not, we both know I could beat the shit out of Draven any day if I wanted to,” Jyn scoffs, but it hasn’t escaped her notice that Cassian just called her incredible… incredible.

“And then on Jedha, when you saved that little girl? When you saved me,” he gives a crooked smile. “I’d never seen someone take down stormtroopers like that. It was…You’d probably make fun of me for saying this, but I thought it was beautiful.”

She’s not sure what to find funny. If she had blood, she’d be blushing, badly. As it is, her nose wrinkles in response to his description.

“I thought that a lot,” Cassian continues, his voice softening. “Beautiful. But I couldn’t say it to you after Eadu, not with how you looked at me. Not after how I betrayed your trust. And then by the time I thought maybe I’d earned your forgiveness, that I might be able to get away with saying it without you wanting to kill me for it, we were on our way to Scarif…

“But I guess before any of that, I owe you an apology,” he breathes. “I’m sorry, Jyn. I’m sorry for Naboo, I really am. I’m not trying to make a mockery of what you did for me on Scarif, but…” There are tears tracing his cheeks now, flashing silver as they catch the light and Jyn feels the ghost of them on her own face, tingling. “I got to hold you in my arms once. Once. And then you were gone.

“That’s not how it was supposed to go. On the beach, it was decided, we were supposed to stay with each other until the end. I wasn’t supposed to have to…” Cassian draws a shuddering breath. “I wasn’t supposed to have to face losing you… I wasn’t supposed to be here. Not without you.

“You know I would’ve done the same thing for you though. And I know I need to figure out how to move forward, because you’d be disappointed in me if I didn’t, the same as I would with you if it were me, but… I don’t know how, because you’re the only one I want to talk to about any of this. You’re the only one who I know would understand. I miss you, Jyn. I want you here, with me.” He gives a choked, incredulous laugh. “Apparently badly enough that I’m imagining things and talking to thin air…”

In the silence that follows, Cassian sits perfectly still, as though in anticipation of a response.

She imagines she can hear the nervous humming of his heart. That she can feel her own singing a reply.

And Jyn Erso, who has always moved by instinct–has always pushed forward regardless of if she knew the next step–finds herself suddenly unsure what to do. Stunned by the intense, dreamy sensation that is flooding her body like sunlight after rain, casting a vibrant and blinding radiance over everything it touches.

She’s never been able to read his face with such perfect clarity. It is only easy to do so now–to identify the yearning in his gaze as he searches the room–because she knows. She knows that what she sensed between them, what she thought she saw in his eyes in the elevator on Scarif, is real. And it is here now, in his words and in each of their trembling heartbeats.

It is reaching for her and even the shadowy veil of death is helpless to stop it.

Even if it would be the wiser action to take, she cannot turn away. Not now.

Jyn edges towards Cassian until she is close enough that, in another life –a kinder one- he would be feeling the warmth of her breath on his cheek.

She stretches her hands forward to hover over his face, shaking, tentative. Her mind races through possibilities both wonderful and terrible. If I do this there’s no going back…

Cassian turns, as though he can hear her thoughts and she withdraws her hands before his skin can brush hers. His eyes don’t quite land on hers, his gaze remains unfocused, but for a moment she thinks she can see herself reflected in them, held by the dark warmth of his irises.

Slowly, her palms find either side of his face and press gently against his cheeks.

It’s a wonder to her that he doesn’t startle, but instead leans into her touch as though to assure himself of its existence. “Jyn?” He murmurs her name with a gentle reverence, like it is synonymous with something as delicate and precious as hope.

It is a spark that sets fire to her soul and fuels her courage. She pulls him towards her before it can falter.

She presses her lips to his and what is between them–what they are to each other, what is so powerful it has pulled her from death’s greedy hands–embraces her completely.

Home.

#As a Shadow #rebelcaptain #rebelcaptain fanfic #jyn x cassian #angst #whump #cassian andor #jyn erso #b writes #cassian andor x jyn erso #rebelcaptain fanfiction #ghost!jyn #major character (un)dead #grief/mourning #heavy angst #any reblogs comments etc (aka writer fuel) greatly appreciated as always <3

28 notes · View notes