nextchance | (no subject)

Though she's had months to prepare, it's still hard to believe that they officially start their program next week. Perhaps predictably, Jyn doesn't feel ready in the slightest, worries she'd thought she moved past and questions of her own competency bubbling back to the surface. Perhaps it is, at least in part, a result of how odd the past few months have been, her focus largely elsewhere. It isn't as if she's been ignoring this, but things have been rough to say the least, between the hallucinations Cassian was having and not telling her about and her father's arrival. The latter, she still doesn't quite know what to do with or how to talk about. It's been strangely preoccupying, her whole life here feeling like it's been turned on its head, though the ostensible changes are few.

If there's anyone she can talk to about it, she thinks, it's Lincoln. She just can't figure out where to start. It's easier to keep herself busy, checking equipment in the space where they'll be teaching, making sure it's all in good shape and ready to be used. Probably the best thing she can do for herself is throw herself wholeheartedly into it, keep herself busy and distracted. It worked for years, trying to hold the weight of her father's absence at bay. It's just the other way around now, in a sense.

"I can't think of anything else we need before we start," she says. "Though I could keep going over all of this and still think of five things as soon as people actually get here."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Guess not," Jyn allows. Coming from anyone else, it would probably be all the more frustrating, but she knows Lincoln is with her on this. It's enough to keep her from getting angry over it, and anyway, he's not wrong. She won't be able to find anything out if she doesn't do so firsthand. If a part of her thinks it would be preferable not to find out one way or the other, she hardly sees how she could be blamed for that, either, when she never expected or, after a point, wanted to have a chance like this. She told Cassian once — the day she met him, when he was interrogating her on behalf of the Alliance — that she liked to believe her father was dead because it made things easier that way. She meant it, and not just because she knew who he was working for.

"It's all just so complicated. I keep feeling like I should be happier, but... There's too much."

"You don't have to feel any way," he answers. "Just feel what you feel without trying to change it to something you think you're supposed to feel instead."

It's not going to be the easiest advice to follow, but he knows she's only going to face more difficulty if she tries to force herself into something she doesn't feel. It's hard and he knows it, because even if she might not think it of herself, Jyn does want to make other people happy. She and Lincoln are alike in that way, even if one might not see it at first glance.

"He has to respect that," he says. "He can't expect you to force anything."

Because she's right, it is complicated. When Octavia had arrived and he had told her about Victra, it was all Lincoln could do, too. Respect what she felt and give her the space she needed.

From a logical standpoint, Jyn knows that he's right, of course. Excepting her time in various prisons, no one has ever forced her to do anything she didn't want to do, and she owes no debt to the man who abandoned her. He may have thought about her all those years, but he never tried to find her, never tried to send word. Of course she couldn't just welcome him back into her life as if that weren't the case. Of course no one in their right mind would be able to expect that from her.

She thinks about the way he looked at her, though, all emotion where she'd been carefully composed stoicism and falling apart inside, and she still feels like it's what's wanted of her, what she's supposed to do. She just doesn't know if she can do that.

"Thanks," she says quietly, more appreciative than that one word of gratitude would probably suggest and all the more self-conscious for it. "For saying that. For listening. There's not really anyone else I can go to about it."