Welcome home. She hears it again in her head, an invitation and a promise, and her breath stutters a little for it. Maybe he doesn't mean anything by it, maybe he's just talking about a home as in a place to live, but even in that sense of the word, Jyn hasn't had a home in a long, long time, since she was a teenager naïve enough to trust the idea of one. Now, her every instinct is telling her to fight it, to run, not to believe it. For all she knows, he was just talking about the Alliance anyway and the possibility of her being one of them, and it's been made abundantly clear to her that they're somewhere without any of that, rendering the point moot.

She's not so sure that's the case, though. At least, that isn't what it's meant to her, what made warmth bloom in her chest at the sound of those words. The Alliance, she could take or leave, especially after the Council wouldn't listen to her. Cassian, though, who came back for her time and again?

Whatever planet they're on and however out of options they might be, she thinks she's as much at home here as she was in the hangar on Yavin 4. She thinks, she could be that for him, if he wanted.

With no reason to believe that he would want that, though, Jyn dismisses the thought as quickly as she can, only hoping the hitch in her breath hasn't been too apparent, or at least easily written off as relating to something else. "I couldn't tell you," she says, wry, lighter than the subject should call for. "The longest I've spent in any one place in years was a prison."