nextchance | (no subject)

Things haven't been right for days. It's an odd, awful feeling, knowing that and not knowing what to do about it beyond what she's tried so far. Asking Cassian what's wrong has yielded vague, at least seemingly evasive answers, and though she can let him know that she's around if he needs to talk, it isn't as if she can make him. Jyn has found herself mostly torn because of it, wanting to be around in case he does decide to talk to her, thinking she should put some distance between them, reminded too much of when they first got here and he never seemed to really want to tell her anything about himself. Pulling away before he gets a chance to would be easier. Most of her instincts are telling her to do exactly that. She can't quite bring herself to, though, maybe because she's so convinced that something must be really wrong.

For now, though, it's left her painfully restless. Tonight isn't the first she's laid in bed and stared at the ceiling for a couple of hours. This time, she gives up easily, scrawling a quick note and leaving it on her side of the bed for Cassian to find if he wakes up, then getting dressed and going out for a run. It's gotten chilly, the air brisk, but she likes that about it. It makes her feel more grounded, somehow, tethered in a way she might not be otherwise.

Though she doesn't intend to end up at the cemetery, she isn't altogether surprised when she does. At least there's a decent chance that she'll find some company here. "Hey, Spike," she calls, "you around?"

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Stepping out from behind a crypt, his brow arched, Spike said, "Might want to keep it down, pet. Never know what you'll lure out of bed."

Dropping his cigarette onto the ground, he crushed it under his boot. He made his way closure, taking in worn look of her. She had the look of someone who'd missed more than a few hours of sleep, and if she was wandering the cemetery in the middle of the night, he could only guess what things were like for her at home.

"Out rather late, aren't we?"

Jyn shrugs, because it's true and they both know it. For all that she's never really been able to keep to anything resembling a normal schedule, whatever that might look like, even the strictly regimented hours for sleeping when she was in prison usually broken up or spent lying awake and staring at the ceiling, she can't pretend like she's usually out at this hour. Or she probably could, but she doesn't see the point. It wouldn't change things. She still couldn't convince herself that everything that's been happening is normal and her fears are only in her head.

"Couldn't sleep," she says, because it's the simplest and easiest answer. "This seemed like as good a place to go as any."

"Traipsing around with the dead?" He clarified, brow arched and a teasing curve set to his lips.

"So, what can I do for you?" He arched a brow. Not only was she wandering the graveyard, she was out calling his name, so he reckoned it was more than just as good a place as any.

If she really wanted to, Jyn knows she could probably just lie about it, write it all off as nothing the way she's been trying, and failing, to do in her own head. If he's essentially calling her out already, though, then she doubts she'd be all that successful. Maybe it can't hurt to put just a little of it into words. It's not like she would have any specifics to give even if she wanted to, anyway.

"Any sort of distraction," she settles on. "Things aren't... great, at home. Could stand to get out of my head."

"Should I even bother to ask if you want to talk about it?" He said, a bit of concern making its way into the teasing cock of his head.

They'd never been a pair to have deep heart to hearts, but it wasn't exactly beyond him. He'd had plenty in his day, was even rather good at it, when the occasion called.

"If not, we can go find something to kill. That's always good for a laugh."

"Well, you know how much I like to kill things," Jyn says with a crooked flicker of a smile, hands flexing slightly. She could go for a fight, if nothing else, a way to get some of her pent-up frustration out and stop thinking for a little while. Then again, she isn't sure how much it would help her shake off this unsettled feeling, and she supposes she can offer some sort of an explanation. Talking about her feelings isn't her strong suit — words aren't at all — but at least she'll have tried.

"Something's going on with my husband. He won't tell me what it is. He just says everything is fine, but it's clearly not."

Folding his arms across his chest, Spike jerked a nod in the direction of asylum, which was always a good place to find a fight. The path he took, however, was a leisurely one, and he cut her a thoughtful look when she began to speak.

"How's that? He seems different, or is it more than that?" He asked, a frown creasing his brow. He wouldn't dare imply that it was only her imagination. Women, he found, really did have a kind of intuition. Besides, when you lived with a person, it was generally easy to see when they weren't right.

"He seems... like there's something wrong," Jyn says, not sure what the best way of putting it into words might be. They've never really been her strong suit, and she thinks she'd sound stupid trying to describe something so nebulous and nonspecific, anyway. He doesn't seem to doubt her, though, which helps. It's easy enough to doubt herself, and yet this has been going on long enough that she's sure it's not in her head. Things would have gone back to normal by now if it were.

She tries to keep her gait and voice relaxed as she continues, falling into step with him, but she's only middlingly successful. "He says there isn't. And when I ask if he's alright, he says he is. But it doesn't change. He just stays sort of distant and up in his own head all the time, sleeping even less than usual."

"But you don't think he's gotten up to something?" He asked, brow arched. "I'm prepared to break a knee cap or two, if he hurts you. Now, I'm sure he's a wonderful bloke, but I thought I'd put that out there."

His smile was teasing, but it was clear enough that he meant it.

"How long's it been?"

"I don't think there's anyone else, or anything," Jyn says with a quick shake of her head, just a little wry when she adds, "but I'll keep that in mind, thank you." Cassian may be a skilled liar, possibly better even than she knows, but she's sharp, too. Something that big, she likes to think she would at least have more of an indication of. Then again, she can't really say that for sure.

Besides, a small voice in the back of her head insists on reminding her, there wouldn't have to be anyone else in the picture for him to decide to leave. Everyone does, eventually.

"But it's been a couple weeks. Something like that. Long enough that it doesn't just seem like a bad mood."