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The City posts
[To be linked to the game comm]
That was sort of a relief. But yes, he was positive he wouldn't have picked out this shirt. Or if he had, proof positive it was a different person. Not worth thinking about. Hopefully he wouldn't dream about it. Good luck.
He leaned over and touched her arm, only for as long as it took to say, "Good night."
He leaned over and touched her arm, only for as long as it took to say, "Good night."
"Good night, Cassian," Jyn replied, giving him a tiny smile before she crossed the room to close the door and switch the light. It didn't seem like quite enough, but there wasn't really anything else to say, least of all if she didn't want to say too much. So, instead, stealing a glance at him through the darkened room, she climbed into her bed and turned toward the wall, hoping she would manage to sleep halfway decently.
The open-air market reminded him a little of Ferrix. The aisle between parallel booths was just slightly too narrow for all the foot traffic, with people stopped to look at tables. It was wonderful.
Cassian hadn't found what he was looking for in shops, but found it almost immediately at a table. It was ridiculously overpriced, but the vendor obviously wasn't prepared for someone like Cassian, who could take apart a piece of machinery with a look, and he was able to talk it down. He proceeded to browse tables for spare parts to add to the device, to make alterations. In his rucksack, he also stuffed a new sheet and blanket large enough ("Queen size", he learned) to cover both himself and Jyn. (Not that he couldn't imagine them pressed together under an army blanket or a shared jacket…)
There was one table where Cassian stopped, involuntarily, dead. It was spread out with mostly sporting equipment, but had several of what looked like blasters. Looking more closely, he saw, aside from the guns themselves, an array of what had to be analog, projectile ammunition. Cassian had never fired a projectile weapon. He could have bought one of these and learned how. For the barest moment, he thought it might be a good idea.
It isn't 'what have I done', but 'how did you become what I had to do next'
He was overwhelmed with revulsion. He turned away from the table and put distance from it fast as he could without running. If he could possibly avoid it, he was never going to pick up a weapon again.
Cassian hadn't found what he was looking for in shops, but found it almost immediately at a table. It was ridiculously overpriced, but the vendor obviously wasn't prepared for someone like Cassian, who could take apart a piece of machinery with a look, and he was able to talk it down. He proceeded to browse tables for spare parts to add to the device, to make alterations. In his rucksack, he also stuffed a new sheet and blanket large enough ("Queen size", he learned) to cover both himself and Jyn. (Not that he couldn't imagine them pressed together under an army blanket or a shared jacket…)
There was one table where Cassian stopped, involuntarily, dead. It was spread out with mostly sporting equipment, but had several of what looked like blasters. Looking more closely, he saw, aside from the guns themselves, an array of what had to be analog, projectile ammunition. Cassian had never fired a projectile weapon. He could have bought one of these and learned how. For the barest moment, he thought it might be a good idea.
It isn't 'what have I done', but 'how did you become what I had to do next'
He was overwhelmed with revulsion. He turned away from the table and put distance from it fast as he could without running. If he could possibly avoid it, he was never going to pick up a weapon again.
Edited 2025-05-17 22:05 (UTC)
He tackled him, barreling straight into his stomach.
The other was caught right off his feet. They both rolled on the floor.
One raised his head sooner. He reached for the blaster he'd dropped.
The first recovered in time and grabbed the other's head, slamming it to the floor.
He scrambled and straddled him, grabbing his shoulders to slam him backwards again.
Both grabbed at the other's face, covering their mouths, fingers seeking eyes, anything,
'til the one on top started to choke the one on the bottom.
That one's hands left his face to try and break the first's grip.
He couldn't. He scrambled, and found something on the floor. He grabbed it and smashed it over his assailant's head.
Again, they fell apart.
Again, one went for the blaster.
This time the man slammed his opponent with a chair. He bounced off the wall, where the man grabbed and again tried to wrestle him down, but they got turned around and the one being grappled slamed the man backward into the wall, himself. He broke the other's grip, jabbed an elbow to his face, and broke free, throwing whatever was nearest to hand backward to blind him.
Then they were just brawling, punch for punch, block for block, trying to get the other against the wall, until the one brutally struck his opponent down.
He knelt and again grabbed him by the throat.
"Don't you do it!" he shouted. "Don't you dare! Don't you leave her!"
A shot rang out. The man on the floor had gotten the blaster and fired it into the other's stomach.
But as his opponent fell away from him to the floor, Cassian let out a wail of disbelief and utmost despair.
Because his opponent was no longer who it had been all along: it was no longer
himself.
The body that fell dead to the floor, with a smoking blaster hole, was
Jyn.
The other was caught right off his feet. They both rolled on the floor.
One raised his head sooner. He reached for the blaster he'd dropped.
The first recovered in time and grabbed the other's head, slamming it to the floor.
He scrambled and straddled him, grabbing his shoulders to slam him backwards again.
Both grabbed at the other's face, covering their mouths, fingers seeking eyes, anything,
'til the one on top started to choke the one on the bottom.
That one's hands left his face to try and break the first's grip.
He couldn't. He scrambled, and found something on the floor. He grabbed it and smashed it over his assailant's head.
Again, they fell apart.
Again, one went for the blaster.
This time the man slammed his opponent with a chair. He bounced off the wall, where the man grabbed and again tried to wrestle him down, but they got turned around and the one being grappled slamed the man backward into the wall, himself. He broke the other's grip, jabbed an elbow to his face, and broke free, throwing whatever was nearest to hand backward to blind him.
Then they were just brawling, punch for punch, block for block, trying to get the other against the wall, until the one brutally struck his opponent down.
He knelt and again grabbed him by the throat.
"Don't you do it!" he shouted. "Don't you dare! Don't you leave her!"
A shot rang out. The man on the floor had gotten the blaster and fired it into the other's stomach.
But as his opponent fell away from him to the floor, Cassian let out a wail of disbelief and utmost despair.
Because his opponent was no longer who it had been all along: it was no longer
himself.
The body that fell dead to the floor, with a smoking blaster hole, was
Jyn.
Jyn had always been a light sleeper. At least, that was true for as far back as she could remember, all the way to her isolated childhood on Lah'mu. There, they'd needed to be ready to go at any time, sometimes practiced in the middle of the night the drills meant to get them to safety, and what was even the point if she was going to be the only one following that plan?
Necessity taught her how to wake easily even back then, though, and even before she'd wound up in the care of Saw, who preached often about the need for vigilance. All these years later, she could still hear him in the back of her head: You never know when an enemy will strike. The only way they won't catch you at your most vulnerable is if you do not allow yourself that vulnerability. She'd carried that with her as a teenager on her own, keeping company mostly with criminals and other unsavory types who'd betray a cohort without a second thought if it meant some advantage for them. And after that, well, it was impossible to get any kind of decent sleep in a prison.
So, even now, it was too instilled in her for there to be any undoing it. A movement, a sound, anything outside of the ordinary would bring her to wakefulness. And a body thrashing and panting beside her definitely counted as outside of the ordinary.
Jyn opened her eyes with a sharp inhale, attention quickly turning to Cassian beside her. (If she'd been dreaming herself, she didn't remember it. This was probably a good thing.) Bleary-eyed, her brow creased with concern as she took just a moment to orient herself, at least as far as cataloging the important things: they were safe, and he was in distress. Waking someone from a nightmare could be a delicate business, and she knew him well enough to guess that he might not forgive himself if she startled him and he lashed out at her without meaning to, but she didn't want to leave him in it. Before she could whisper his name and try to wake him as unobtrusively as she could, though, he cried out, a gut-wrenching, devastating sound, and that changed her mind for her.
"Cassian. Cassian," she said, voice hushed but insistent, as she rested a gentle hand on his shoulder to shake him. "Hey, it's all right."
Necessity taught her how to wake easily even back then, though, and even before she'd wound up in the care of Saw, who preached often about the need for vigilance. All these years later, she could still hear him in the back of her head: You never know when an enemy will strike. The only way they won't catch you at your most vulnerable is if you do not allow yourself that vulnerability. She'd carried that with her as a teenager on her own, keeping company mostly with criminals and other unsavory types who'd betray a cohort without a second thought if it meant some advantage for them. And after that, well, it was impossible to get any kind of decent sleep in a prison.
So, even now, it was too instilled in her for there to be any undoing it. A movement, a sound, anything outside of the ordinary would bring her to wakefulness. And a body thrashing and panting beside her definitely counted as outside of the ordinary.
Jyn opened her eyes with a sharp inhale, attention quickly turning to Cassian beside her. (If she'd been dreaming herself, she didn't remember it. This was probably a good thing.) Bleary-eyed, her brow creased with concern as she took just a moment to orient herself, at least as far as cataloging the important things: they were safe, and he was in distress. Waking someone from a nightmare could be a delicate business, and she knew him well enough to guess that he might not forgive himself if she startled him and he lashed out at her without meaning to, but she didn't want to leave him in it. Before she could whisper his name and try to wake him as unobtrusively as she could, though, he cried out, a gut-wrenching, devastating sound, and that changed her mind for her.
"Cassian. Cassian," she said, voice hushed but insistent, as she rested a gentle hand on his shoulder to shake him. "Hey, it's all right."
Cassian sat bolt upright with a hoarse scream. His hands were fists, body half-turned in the direction of the touch and sound. Of Jyn.
He came to himself, came back to her, and recognized what he could have done. And he recoiled, pushing himself clear of her with a look of such horror. He tried to stumble to his feet and failed, his back thudding to the bulkhead, and he sat there against the wall staring at his hands. His voice came out in a rasp: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry… Jyn… oh god…"
He came to himself, came back to her, and recognized what he could have done. And he recoiled, pushing himself clear of her with a look of such horror. He tried to stumble to his feet and failed, his back thudding to the bulkhead, and he sat there against the wall staring at his hands. His voice came out in a rasp: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry… Jyn… oh god…"
For a split second, Jyn held her breath as he sat up, aware of his posture and curled fists, but she didn't move away. She'd known that she was running the risk of provoking an unintended response, and more importantly, she knew with bone-deep certainty that he would never consciously harm her. The only worry she had was for him, even more so when she saw his reaction. Under other circumstances — had they both been awake, at least — she wouldn't have hesitated to go to him. Right now, though, that seemed more likely to make things worse rather than better.
So, instead, she stayed where she was, pulling her legs under her so she was kneeling on the mattress and facing him, her hands not fully raised but still held palm out. Although he wasn't looking at her, the position was meant to be one of both safety and vulnerability: demonstrating herself as not a threat, and showing him that she didn't see him as one, either. She didn't know and wouldn't try to guess what had him so shaken, but with any sort of awakening like this, that seemed like the best place to start.
"Don't be sorry," she murmured, trying to keep her expression at least somewhat schooled. It broke her heart a little to see him like this, for him to have lurched away from her the way he did, but that couldn't have been further from the point right now. "It's all right," she said again. "You're all right."
So, instead, she stayed where she was, pulling her legs under her so she was kneeling on the mattress and facing him, her hands not fully raised but still held palm out. Although he wasn't looking at her, the position was meant to be one of both safety and vulnerability: demonstrating herself as not a threat, and showing him that she didn't see him as one, either. She didn't know and wouldn't try to guess what had him so shaken, but with any sort of awakening like this, that seemed like the best place to start.
"Don't be sorry," she murmured, trying to keep her expression at least somewhat schooled. It broke her heart a little to see him like this, for him to have lurched away from her the way he did, but that couldn't have been further from the point right now. "It's all right," she said again. "You're all right."
He covered his face with one hand, scrubbed his eyes, and raised them more clearly to her.
He didn't matter. What mattered was—
"Are you all right?" Fast but with more grace than he'd left it, Cassian knelt back on the bed and touched her ribs and face, as if searching her for wounds. No; no smoking blasterburn, no bruise.
His touch as ever was so, so gentle on her, but there was still a wildness in his eyes—along with tears.
He didn't matter. What mattered was—
"Are you all right?" Fast but with more grace than he'd left it, Cassian knelt back on the bed and touched her ribs and face, as if searching her for wounds. No; no smoking blasterburn, no bruise.
His touch as ever was so, so gentle on her, but there was still a wildness in his eyes—along with tears.
Jyn stayed very, very still as he touched her. Even though she still didn't know what had happened to have him in this state now, it was clear enough that, whatever the reason, it was something he needed to do. This more than anything else unsettled her, though — not because of him or his hands on her, but the fear and desperation she saw in his eyes, her own widening a little as she studied his face as best she could in the dark of their bedroom.
"I'm fine, Cassian," she promised, her voice soft and even. She knew he'd had nightmares about something happening to her before, and she could only assume this was more of that same, but it seemed a far cry even from the state he'd been in that first night, telling her that he'd dreamed about the data tower.
So slowly and carefully, she lifted a hand to his cheek, hoping he wouldn't pull away from her. "Whatever you saw... It was only a dream. I'm all right. I promise."
"I'm fine, Cassian," she promised, her voice soft and even. She knew he'd had nightmares about something happening to her before, and she could only assume this was more of that same, but it seemed a far cry even from the state he'd been in that first night, telling her that he'd dreamed about the data tower.
So slowly and carefully, she lifted a hand to his cheek, hoping he wouldn't pull away from her. "Whatever you saw... It was only a dream. I'm all right. I promise."
So far from pulling away, he leaned in and kissed her, tasting like salt.
The dream had been terrible, but much worse was that was he couldn't be sure how close he'd come—
He sat back, shaking his head like it was heavy. "I should… I nearly hurt you… I shouldn't sleep here…" Even as he wanted to lie down and hold her again so much it hurt.
The dream had been terrible, but much worse was that was he couldn't be sure how close he'd come—
He sat back, shaking his head like it was heavy. "I should… I nearly hurt you… I shouldn't sleep here…" Even as he wanted to lie down and hold her again so much it hurt.
"You didn't, though," Jyn replied, trying as hard as she could to keep the worry out of her hushed voice. It didn't seem like her place to say that she didn't want him to sleep elsewhere, that she didn't care and wouldn't have cared if he'd hurt her. She knew he would care, even if it was (and it would have been) inadvertent, something she had been entirely aware could happen in waking someone from such a brutal nightmare.
"If you're really worried, I'll... I'll move one of the mattresses back up or something, but..."
She suppressed the urge to cringe at her own words, the sound of her voice. Stupid, to be so close to asking him not to go, to hate the idea so much, but she had only just woken up too, and the moments since then had been so fraught. Still not wanting to say it, she thought back instead to something he'd said the first night they woke from nightmares together, and took a deep breath to steel herself and say what she really meant.
"I'm here. You can talk to me. Let me help. Please."
"If you're really worried, I'll... I'll move one of the mattresses back up or something, but..."
She suppressed the urge to cringe at her own words, the sound of her voice. Stupid, to be so close to asking him not to go, to hate the idea so much, but she had only just woken up too, and the moments since then had been so fraught. Still not wanting to say it, she thought back instead to something he'd said the first night they woke from nightmares together, and took a deep breath to steel herself and say what she really meant.
"I'm here. You can talk to me. Let me help. Please."
Fighting not to leave her is when…
You promised…
He took a shaky breath, exhaled a defeated groan. Hypocrite—he doubled forward, closing his eyes against her skin.
“You shouldn’t have to,” he said, “but you’d stop me? If I was about to hurt you—hurt me first if you needed to?”
You promised…
He took a shaky breath, exhaled a defeated groan. Hypocrite—he doubled forward, closing his eyes against her skin.
“You shouldn’t have to,” he said, “but you’d stop me? If I was about to hurt you—hurt me first if you needed to?”
Edited 2025-06-01 07:06 (UTC)
Jyn let out an unsteady breath of her own then, relief accompanying her growing concern and how much it hurt to see him like this. As he leaned against her, she wrapped her arms around him, one hand at his back, the other gently stroking his hair. She wasn't, or didn't think she was, much good at comfort, but for him, it came easily, awkward yet instinctive.
"If I needed to," she echoed, her voice sounding far away to her own ears. If it did happen, she knew it would be accidental, something that would hurt him more than it hurt her, but she could make this promise if it would help him relax now. If it would let him stay.
It wasn't a lie, either. She may have been away from war for a long time now, but she'd still kept herself in shape and her instincts as sharp as she could. If it truly did come down to that, she wouldn't be helpless. "I know how to protect myself." At least physically. "I would stop you."
"If I needed to," she echoed, her voice sounding far away to her own ears. If it did happen, she knew it would be accidental, something that would hurt him more than it hurt her, but she could make this promise if it would help him relax now. If it would let him stay.
It wasn't a lie, either. She may have been away from war for a long time now, but she'd still kept herself in shape and her instincts as sharp as she could. If it truly did come down to that, she wouldn't be helpless. "I know how to protect myself." At least physically. "I would stop you."
He let out another miserable sound, but he didn’t have it in him to move away. It wasn’t right… not the right solution… was it identifying the right problem?
But she held him. And she’d said to talk.
“I was fighting a copy of myself not to leave you,” he said, muffled. “But defeating him, I killed you.”
Hearing himself aloud, he managed, “I wouldn’t pay a psych doc to analyze it.”
But she held him. And she’d said to talk.
“I was fighting a copy of myself not to leave you,” he said, muffled. “But defeating him, I killed you.”
Hearing himself aloud, he managed, “I wouldn’t pay a psych doc to analyze it.”
Another quick, audible inhale accompanied his words, but this time, Jyn's reaction was entirely for his sake. It sounded horrific, of course, but she was no stranger to horrific dreams. That he was left so ill at ease by it wasn't surprising. Had their positions been reversed and she been the one to have a nightmare like that, she was sure she would be an absolute wreck. As it was, though, hearing about it in the simplest of terms, she felt more for him than anything else.
She'd had countless dreams of him leaving her, countless dreams of one or both of them dying. They always hit hard. This one seemed particularly cruel, though, and irrational as it may have been, she felt suddenly guilty for it. He wouldn't have had that notion in his head if she hadn't told him about before. Not telling him had never seemed like an option, but maybe she should have just gotten him settled in and then kept a distance rather than burdening him with—
No, she couldn't go down that road, not so soon after such an abrupt awakening, especially not with him here in her arms. "I'm sorry," she murmured anyway. "Stars, Cassian."
She'd had countless dreams of him leaving her, countless dreams of one or both of them dying. They always hit hard. This one seemed particularly cruel, though, and irrational as it may have been, she felt suddenly guilty for it. He wouldn't have had that notion in his head if she hadn't told him about before. Not telling him had never seemed like an option, but maybe she should have just gotten him settled in and then kept a distance rather than burdening him with—
No, she couldn't go down that road, not so soon after such an abrupt awakening, especially not with him here in her arms. "I'm sorry," she murmured anyway. "Stars, Cassian."
He slipped his arm around her and squeezed.
Under his breath, with the same feeling of I am one with the Force, the Force is with me, Cassian muttered his own mantra. "I won't lose you to fear of losing you." He repeated it in every language he knew, including Basic again. So doing, he hopefully reminded her, too, that telling him was right, rather than keeping her own distance.
Under his breath, with the same feeling of I am one with the Force, the Force is with me, Cassian muttered his own mantra. "I won't lose you to fear of losing you." He repeated it in every language he knew, including Basic again. So doing, he hopefully reminded her, too, that telling him was right, rather than keeping her own distance.
His arm around her was an unexpected relief, more of one than Jyn thought it should be. She didn't know, or maybe just didn't want to consider, why his suggesting that he sleep elsewhere had her so on edge, mentally braced as if for a blow. There was no reason to believe it meant he would leave. It was just the weight of everything catching up to her, probably, or some last vestige of a dream of her own that she couldn't consciously remember now, still clinging to her in the darkness.
She tried to focus instead on him and his words, ones she remembered him saying earlier, too. The sentiment was gorgeous, one that cut right to the heart of so many of her insecurities and the ensuing defense mechanisms she'd built up around them. It was so much harder to have something — someone — worth keeping and fear that loss than prevent it from happening in the first place.
"I'm here," she said again, still holding him close. "What you saw, it wasn't real."
She tried to focus instead on him and his words, ones she remembered him saying earlier, too. The sentiment was gorgeous, one that cut right to the heart of so many of her insecurities and the ensuing defense mechanisms she'd built up around them. It was so much harder to have something — someone — worth keeping and fear that loss than prevent it from happening in the first place.
"I'm here," she said again, still holding him close. "What you saw, it wasn't real."
His heart still throbbed in his throat, but at least it was slowing. He worked to match his breaths to hers.
“Or,” he said, “the more I fixate about that threat, the cost is … this. Us. So I should try to make peace. Which I knew. My subconscious just needs to catch up.”
“Or,” he said, “the more I fixate about that threat, the cost is … this. Us. So I should try to make peace. Which I knew. My subconscious just needs to catch up.”
"Easier said than done, isn't it?" Jyn asked with a heavy sigh, speaking almost as much to herself as to him. The subconscious, at least in her opinion, tended not to let go of anything, always lagging behind, grabbing hold of anything possible to fixate on. She still dreamed about her childhood, still dreamed about him even when he was long gone.
"Still. I'm sorry you..."
"Still. I'm sorry you..."
His eyes widened as he suddenly realized why she was apologizing. He reached for her face and stopped her words with a kiss.
"My dream is not your fault," he said as they parted. "I just can't believe I almost…" hit you
He was circling. They'd already established: she could stop him. He just didn't want her to have to.
But he also knew neither of them wanted to give this up. He would if it was just him. But he'd seen the panic in her eyes and knew: him leaving, in any form, was definitely not the solution. Don't do it to her again. Definitely not 'for her sake'. He wouldn't join all the people who'd already done so. Not to mention, everything they were just talking about.
"I don't know if it would pierce a dream," he said, "but we could try to… program in a safe word, or phrase."
"My dream is not your fault," he said as they parted. "I just can't believe I almost…" hit you
He was circling. They'd already established: she could stop him. He just didn't want her to have to.
But he also knew neither of them wanted to give this up. He would if it was just him. But he'd seen the panic in her eyes and knew: him leaving, in any form, was definitely not the solution. Don't do it to her again. Definitely not 'for her sake'. He wouldn't join all the people who'd already done so. Not to mention, everything they were just talking about.
"I don't know if it would pierce a dream," he said, "but we could try to… program in a safe word, or phrase."
Isn't it, though? Jyn wanted to ask, physically biting her tongue to hold the words back. Whatever he said, she was convinced that the fault for his dream had to be hers, at least in large part. She couldn't control his subconscious, but she was the one who'd given him the weight to bear of his former self's disappearance. Letting him pick up the pieces that someone else had left behind wasn't fair. Neither was listening to him blame himself for something that hadn't actually happened and that wouldn't have been a conscious choice even if it had.
"Cassian, I spent half my life around soldiers," she pointed out, shaking her head not in disagreement, but to counter his earlier point. "Most of them had been with Saw since the Clone Wars. I know what happens when someone gets woken from a nightmare like that. I almost didn't, but..."
She could still hear that awful, desperate sound he'd made, and she wasn't quick enough to school her expression and try to seem unfazed by it. "You were screaming," she continued, quieter now. "And I couldn't just leave you in it. That is not your fault. It's not anyone's fault." Idly picking at a cuticle, she let out a slow breath. "If you'd feel better having some word to use, we can do that. But please. Don't blame yourself for something you didn't even do."
"Cassian, I spent half my life around soldiers," she pointed out, shaking her head not in disagreement, but to counter his earlier point. "Most of them had been with Saw since the Clone Wars. I know what happens when someone gets woken from a nightmare like that. I almost didn't, but..."
She could still hear that awful, desperate sound he'd made, and she wasn't quick enough to school her expression and try to seem unfazed by it. "You were screaming," she continued, quieter now. "And I couldn't just leave you in it. That is not your fault. It's not anyone's fault." Idly picking at a cuticle, she let out a slow breath. "If you'd feel better having some word to use, we can do that. But please. Don't blame yourself for something you didn't even do."
Edited 2025-06-02 01:01 (UTC)
It wasn't just fear of the immediate past, it was fear for the future… and fear of what he might do while still asleep… but that was even more imaginary.
The damning thing when fighting himself was when he didn't know which side to go with: which was wisdom and which defeat. So he decided to side with her.
Cassian nodded and rested his face between her neck and shoulder. "Okay. Thank you for getting me out."
The damning thing when fighting himself was when he didn't know which side to go with: which was wisdom and which defeat. So he decided to side with her.
Cassian nodded and rested his face between her neck and shoulder. "Okay. Thank you for getting me out."
"Of course," Jyn murmured, her hand lifting to the back of his head to absently stroke his hair again, an instinctive attempt to be soothing. For someone who tended to think that sort of thing didn't come easily or naturally to her, it was often there anyway, perhaps stilted but always earnest, and never as much so as with him.
It was like he'd said the first night here, just as applicable from her perspective. She knew he didn't need her to take care of him, but that just made her want that much more to do so in whatever small ways she could. And it wasn't at all about reciprocation, but: "You'd have done the same for me, wouldn't you? Even knowing I might... react without meaning to."
It was like he'd said the first night here, just as applicable from her perspective. She knew he didn't need her to take care of him, but that just made her want that much more to do so in whatever small ways she could. And it wasn't at all about reciprocation, but: "You'd have done the same for me, wouldn't you? Even knowing I might... react without meaning to."
“Yes. Of course.” No hesitation, no doubt. He kissed her skin where it was closest and hugged her, starting to relax into her arms.
“I’m trying to think of phrases that might work. Or at least ones that would change a dream. My main codename was Fulcrum so you could always try that, tell me to stand down. Recognition key: ‘By the light of Lothal’s moons’.”
“I’m trying to think of phrases that might work. Or at least ones that would change a dream. My main codename was Fulcrum so you could always try that, tell me to stand down. Recognition key: ‘By the light of Lothal’s moons’.”
"I can try that," Jyn agreed with a nod, smiling faintly. This moment didn't seem like the time to mention that she knew his code name and the accompanying phrase because, in a different lifetime, he'd told her. For right now, it was irrelevant. More important was that she appreciated the trust indicative of his telling her now, and that if this would help him trust himself to still sleep in close proximity to her, she would do it.
"I'm really not worried, not about something like that. I trust you."
"I'm really not worried, not about something like that. I trust you."
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