After she'd first lost Cassian here, such a staggeringly long time ago now, it had taken Jyn longer than it should have to get used to sleeping alone again. It felt as if two years and change of sharing someone's bed had rewired something in her brain, a strange fact for someone who didn't make a habit of being vulnerable around or even relying on other people. Letting herself change that had been a mistake, but knowing as much didn't change how difficult it was to fall asleep without her head on a chest or limbs intertwined with her own, or even just the warmth of another body at a close distance beside her.
Years had passed since then, though, and things had gone not just back to normal but even further in the other direction. She wasn't accustomed to having anyone in her space at night. Even now, remembering that she wasn't alone, the very reason she was curled into as tight a ball as she could manage with the blanket kept over her mouth, it was a theoretical sort of knowledge. She didn't want to wake him — didn't want him to see or hear her like this — but the fact of his presence was still all but incomprehensible anyway, nothing that had settled into any sense she had of reality.
So, when a voice cried out from a short distance away, Jyn was so caught off-guard that her whole body jolted. Only her current state, the panic that had yet to wane, kept her from instinctively reaching for one of the weapons she kept stashed nearby. Later, she would be disappointed in herself for the fact that she didn't do so, having long since been taught better than that, but for now, there were too many other things at hand.
Despite her shortness of breath and racing thoughts, she tried to catalog what she knew. Cassian was here. He was in the next bunk. He hadn't just shouted, but said her name. She didn't want to try to guess at what that meant, but she did suppose she had to say something, which meant collecting herself enough to try to speak without giving herself away.
"I'm here," she ventured, then winced at the hoarse, breathless sound of her voice. So much for trying to hide it.
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Years had passed since then, though, and things had gone not just back to normal but even further in the other direction. She wasn't accustomed to having anyone in her space at night. Even now, remembering that she wasn't alone, the very reason she was curled into as tight a ball as she could manage with the blanket kept over her mouth, it was a theoretical sort of knowledge. She didn't want to wake him — didn't want him to see or hear her like this — but the fact of his presence was still all but incomprehensible anyway, nothing that had settled into any sense she had of reality.
So, when a voice cried out from a short distance away, Jyn was so caught off-guard that her whole body jolted. Only her current state, the panic that had yet to wane, kept her from instinctively reaching for one of the weapons she kept stashed nearby. Later, she would be disappointed in herself for the fact that she didn't do so, having long since been taught better than that, but for now, there were too many other things at hand.
Despite her shortness of breath and racing thoughts, she tried to catalog what she knew. Cassian was here. He was in the next bunk. He hadn't just shouted, but said her name. She didn't want to try to guess at what that meant, but she did suppose she had to say something, which meant collecting herself enough to try to speak without giving herself away.
"I'm here," she ventured, then winced at the hoarse, breathless sound of her voice. So much for trying to hide it.