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."