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."
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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."