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."
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.”
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."
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."
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.”
"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.
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."
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."
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."
"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."
“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 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."
He caught that smile, and thought he understood it: She already knew. He also heard her words and his brow darkened because he didn’t trust himself. All this redoubled and knotted in him ‘til his head hurt. He closed his eyes and lay back, body open for her to come with him, not trying to compel her.
Jyn didn't hesitate to lie down with him again, curling against his side with her head on his shoulder. She felt fully awake now, too much for falling back asleep to come easily, but even if all she did was lie here, she didn't want to be anywhere but with him. Again, she had the thought that she was better at showing things than telling them. It wasn't as if she felt she had anything to prove here, but maybe the extent of trust she had in him would come through more clearly like this.
"Yeah," she agreed, quiet and almost fond, as she brought her hand up to rest against his chest, fingers splayed out over his heart. "Of course." For a moment, she was quiet, thinking through the facts she'd given him already and what might still be left.
"My father was a terrible farmer. That's not why I took up gardening — that, I just sort of fell into. But I think about it sometimes, how he was no good at farming, and... not being tied to that, I guess." Was that the fact she'd meant to tell? Was it enough of one? She wasn't sure. The softer, more carefully kept truth followed some seconds later, one she wasn't sure she'd actually told anyone before. "It feels good. Keeping things alive, for a change."
With anyone else, Jyn would have lied, or at least fallen back on sarcasm. With Cassian, she didn't want to go that route. Being dishonest with him felt inherently wrong, and it had practically from the beginning of their acquaintance with each other. Maybe not quite at first, when feeling so seen made her defiant and terse, but as soon as she realized she could trust him, the rest fell into place.
Now, it was only difficult to answer with the truth because of their current circumstances. She didn't want to force them back into a heavier subject when she could feel him finally beginning to settle down; she didn't want to mention the prospect of her own death when he'd just had a nightmare about killing her.
She settled on what she hoped wouldn't be too morbid a way of putting it. "I don't know what peace would have looked like," she replied. "Honestly, I... Before this place, I never really thought I'd see peace. And I'm still not very good at it. Peace, I mean. So, no, I definitely never imagined this sort of life for myself."
Cassian turned slightly to put both arms around her. It was, he realized, the answer he’d expected for her.
He remembered Mon Mothma’s promise, We’ll see you go free, and wondered if Jyn had ever believed it or allowed herself to anticipate. Even if it had come to pass, freedom didn’t mean peace. Or vice versa.
He thought of asking what Jyn would have done if it had played out that way… then thought of all the years it had been for her. He couldn’t catch up, but he could try not to get caught in the past.
“I never nailed down my dream,” murmured Cassian, “it was always a nebula of an idea… but you know, this feels right.”
Just as she was honest with him, Jyn trusted him to be so with her. She had no doubt that he meant what he said. What she was less sure of was if it was really true, or would continue to be. In the back of her head, she remembered him describing his relationship with his former partner as being his dream of peace, and again, she thought that she wouldn't be able to give that to him. The life she had settled into here was a good one, but the storm inside her would never die down completely.
If there was a time for that conversation, this wasn't it. She smiled faintly again, half-hidden against his shoulder. "It does," she agreed. That was just incontrovertible fact. "For me, too."
She nestled a little into him, focused on the now-steadier beat of his heart. "Do I get a fact now?"
Oh, no, my love… the dream is for peace outside ourselves so we can storm in safety… it’s in danger outside that we can’t allow the inner storms… Please let them someday have these conversations.
It was a mindkark: the effect of situation on a relationship. Would his dynamic with Bix have been different if they could have existed in a place apart, like this? Was his relationship with Jyn so shaped by it?
To a degree, of course, but not fundamentally. They were such different people, and he was different with them. He refused to put it to words because comparing Jyn and Bix seemed a lousy thing to do. The only conclusion to draw: he hoped Bix was okay somewhere, and he was abjectly glad to be with Jyn.
He gathered her closer and kissed her hair.
Okay… fact… Though he was so relaxed, it was hard to think of anything calming. The shields being lower allowed for worse things to present. Finally he said, “I can make a doll out of twigs.”
"Yeah?" Jyn asked, that same small smile in place. He'd told her enough now that she could at least guess that the source of the knowledge wasn't anything positive, but the mental image of it was unbearably sweet in spite of that. It brought to mind again her own haphazard childhood toys, carved from pieces of wood or sewn from scraps of old clothes, a temporary facsimile of a childhood that she never got to hold onto. They both lost so much, so early. "Will you show me sometime?"
Before he had shown up again, she'd forgotten what this felt like: wanting to know everything about him that she could, treasuring every detail he gave her. All of the facts they'd traded did nothing to lessen that.
It was something one of the older children had taught them the basics of, along with making baskets and traps for small animals, and Kassa had taught himself more and more intricate variations for Kerri. Sometimes throughout his life, when Cassian would walk alone into nature, if there was workable plant life he'd still make one and leave it, like an offering to her. It had come in handy on one mission, when he'd taught a child how to do it to keep their focus fixed ahead of them.
"Yeah," he said. "When we visit the forest."
He was breathing slowly now. He almost felt he could sleep again. If only he could get the requisite rest from this state, half-drowsing talking to Jyn, still being aware of her. "You?"
"Mm," Jyn hummed thoughtfully, her breathing beginning to match to his. It wasn't easy, and, in fact, became less so every time they traded facts, to try to think of something that wouldn't just touch on some past trauma. In waking hours, that would be fine, but she didn't want to go that route now, not when he'd just woken up from a nightmare, and one that so prominently featured her and her insecurities. For the same reason, anything about the life she had previously had with him here seemed temporarily off-limits. There would be a time to circle back to all of that, but this wasn't it (oh, she hoped they would have time).
"The necklace I wear was my mother's," she settled on, doubting that fact would have made an appearance in the Alliance's research on her. "She gave it to me... the last time I saw her. All the lives I've had — different planets, different names... different prisons... — and it's the only thing I've ever kept with me, or even tried to."
“The engraved kyber,” he confirmed. He’d seen her holding it at different moments of the mission, mainly over Jedha. He wondered by what ingenuity she’d managed to keep it through prison and decided, for now, not to ask.
“I got my ass kicked once over a piece of sky kyber,” he murmured. He was slowly but surely nodding off. “I’ll tell you some time.”
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2025-06-01 07:05 am (UTC)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?”
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Date: 2025-06-01 07:19 am (UTC)"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."
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Date: 2025-06-01 07:32 am (UTC)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.”
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Date: 2025-06-01 08:00 am (UTC)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."
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Date: 2025-06-01 09:45 pm (UTC)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.
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Date: 2025-06-01 10:56 pm (UTC)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."
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Date: 2025-06-01 11:11 pm (UTC)“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.”
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Date: 2025-06-01 11:32 pm (UTC)"Still. I'm sorry you..."
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Date: 2025-06-02 12:14 am (UTC)"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."
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Date: 2025-06-02 01:01 am (UTC)"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."
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Date: 2025-06-02 01:58 am (UTC)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."
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Date: 2025-06-02 02:29 am (UTC)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."
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Date: 2025-06-02 02:39 am (UTC)“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’.”
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Date: 2025-06-02 03:26 am (UTC)"I'm really not worried, not about something like that. I trust you."
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Date: 2025-06-02 03:37 am (UTC)“Tell me a fact,” he mumbled, “please?”
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Date: 2025-06-02 03:52 am (UTC)"Yeah," she agreed, quiet and almost fond, as she brought her hand up to rest against his chest, fingers splayed out over his heart. "Of course." For a moment, she was quiet, thinking through the facts she'd given him already and what might still be left.
"My father was a terrible farmer. That's not why I took up gardening — that, I just sort of fell into. But I think about it sometimes, how he was no good at farming, and... not being tied to that, I guess." Was that the fact she'd meant to tell? Was it enough of one? She wasn't sure. The softer, more carefully kept truth followed some seconds later, one she wasn't sure she'd actually told anyone before. "It feels good. Keeping things alive, for a change."
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Date: 2025-06-02 04:09 am (UTC)He brought his free hand up to hers and interplayed their fingers. He pressed his lips to her temple to murmur, “That makes sense.”
With a soft kiss there, “Did you ever imagine this sort of life for yourself? Would peace have looked like this?”
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Date: 2025-06-02 04:24 am (UTC)Now, it was only difficult to answer with the truth because of their current circumstances. She didn't want to force them back into a heavier subject when she could feel him finally beginning to settle down; she didn't want to mention the prospect of her own death when he'd just had a nightmare about killing her.
She settled on what she hoped wouldn't be too morbid a way of putting it. "I don't know what peace would have looked like," she replied. "Honestly, I... Before this place, I never really thought I'd see peace. And I'm still not very good at it. Peace, I mean. So, no, I definitely never imagined this sort of life for myself."
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Date: 2025-06-02 04:42 am (UTC)He remembered Mon Mothma’s promise, We’ll see you go free, and wondered if Jyn had ever believed it or allowed herself to anticipate. Even if it had come to pass, freedom didn’t mean peace. Or vice versa.
He thought of asking what Jyn would have done if it had played out that way… then thought of all the years it had been for her. He couldn’t catch up, but he could try not to get caught in the past.
“I never nailed down my dream,” murmured Cassian, “it was always a nebula of an idea… but you know, this feels right.”
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Date: 2025-06-02 05:05 am (UTC)If there was a time for that conversation, this wasn't it. She smiled faintly again, half-hidden against his shoulder. "It does," she agreed. That was just incontrovertible fact. "For me, too."
She nestled a little into him, focused on the now-steadier beat of his heart. "Do I get a fact now?"
no subject
Date: 2025-06-02 02:39 pm (UTC)It was a mindkark: the effect of situation on a relationship. Would his dynamic with Bix have been different if they could have existed in a place apart, like this? Was his relationship with Jyn so shaped by it?
To a degree, of course, but not fundamentally. They were such different people, and he was different with them. He refused to put it to words because comparing Jyn and Bix seemed a lousy thing to do. The only conclusion to draw: he hoped Bix was okay somewhere, and he was abjectly glad to be with Jyn.
He gathered her closer and kissed her hair.
Okay… fact… Though he was so relaxed, it was hard to think of anything calming. The shields being lower allowed for worse things to present. Finally he said, “I can make a doll out of twigs.”
no subject
Date: 2025-06-02 09:51 pm (UTC)Before he had shown up again, she'd forgotten what this felt like: wanting to know everything about him that she could, treasuring every detail he gave her. All of the facts they'd traded did nothing to lessen that.
no subject
Date: 2025-06-02 10:11 pm (UTC)"Yeah," he said. "When we visit the forest."
He was breathing slowly now. He almost felt he could sleep again. If only he could get the requisite rest from this state, half-drowsing talking to Jyn, still being aware of her. "You?"
no subject
Date: 2025-06-03 12:05 am (UTC)"The necklace I wear was my mother's," she settled on, doubting that fact would have made an appearance in the Alliance's research on her. "She gave it to me... the last time I saw her. All the lives I've had — different planets, different names... different prisons... — and it's the only thing I've ever kept with me, or even tried to."
no subject
Date: 2025-06-03 12:51 am (UTC)“I got my ass kicked once over a piece of sky kyber,” he murmured. He was slowly but surely nodding off. “I’ll tell you some time.”
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