nextchance | crash sites keep me up at night

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cassian andor

crash sites keep me up at night

In the dream — and it was a dream, although she didn't know that —

Jyn was a little girl in the cave on Lah'mu, not knowing when it was or how long she had been there, only that she was waiting, always waiting, always left alone. The lantern was burned out, the small space dark and damp, somehow seeming to get smaller still, a grave and a prison cell and the only home she had. When, at last, the door swung open overhead, it was an unfamiliar figure overhead (a new variation on an old theme), a young boy with dark hair and eyes, and Jyn didn't really know him except that she felt like she did anyway. Wordless, he held out a hand, and she began to climb.

She climbed, and climbed, and climbed, until her bad shoulder ached and her hands slipped on the ladder's rungs, but she had to keep going, even as she got nowhere, the cave getting deeper now, except it wasn't a cave at all. It was the data tower, getting taller, not deeper, and no longer a little girl, she kept climbing, desperate to reach the top where no one was waiting for her anymore, because when she looked down — so far down, it hadn't really been that far, had it? — Cassian's body lay bent and broken at the bottom, and she knew he wasn't getting back up. Stupid, to think she could reach him, that she might be able to hold onto him this time.

Finally she stepped up and out of the cave that was also the data tower and onto the beach, alone again, except for all of the dead. It had been a while since she'd dreamed of Scarif, and somehow there were more bodies now, her father's weapon overhead, her inescapable legacy. Past the shoreline was forest, and she knew it to be Yavin 4's even though she had barely seen it while she was there, and knew that it held the house she'd once lived in. The house burned — the fire she'd set — and the forest burned with it. The world glowed green with the Death Star's kyber-light, only it wasn't coming from the sky above but from her. Surrounded by bodies, she sat on the sand and waited for a death that didn't come, one which would have been, she supposed, too kind. Hard as she'd always fought to survive, a death that meant something in the arms of someone who cared about her was worlds better than surviving alone, left to bear the weight of so much destruction.

She looked up at the weapon that shared her name, a grim mirror in the sky, and with the fire and the dead around her, she knew that they were one and the same, and this was always going to be where she wound up.

— With a sharp gasp, Jyn lurched awake in the dark, her limbs clammy with sweat and her face damp with tears. Nightmares were nothing new to her, but it had been a long time since one had rattled her this badly. In her addled state, trying and mostly failing to get air into her lungs, she couldn't think of what might have caused it... Until the sound of breath that wasn't her own reminded her that she wasn't alone in the room. Through the haze of everything else, the events of the last day began coming back to her.

It should have been reassuring to remember that Cassian was here and alive and safe. At any other time, it would have been. Instead, in the moment, her panic intensified, her chest painfully tight. It was a good thing, not being alone anymore, except that she still felt like she was and knew she would be again. Close as he was, he felt impossibly far away, and yet he was too close, too. The last thing she wanted was to be seen like this, a panic-stricken, crying mess, unable to calm herself down after just a stupid dream. All she could do — one of the only coherent thoughts she could hold onto — was try to stay as quiet as possible, pressing a fistful of blanket against her mouth to try to stifle any gasps or sobs, and hope she hadn't made enough noise to wake him. He needed the rest. She needed to pull herself together, shoulders shaking in the dark as she tried to breathe.

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“Thank you.” For both things—for everything—she’d just said.

Cassian tried to remember how they’d gotten onto this subject. His hand ran onto the primer book and he glanced down at it. “So which languages do you know? In case we ever need to communicate in secret.”

Jyn gave a slight nod in response to his thanks, and didn't press the subject anymore. They'd both said what they needed to, she thought. It wasn't something that required dwelling on for the moment. There were enough other subjects to move onto. After all, they were — something else she had to remind herself of — still just getting to know each other, even if she was doing so for the second time.

"Twi'leki, at least the verbal parts, since, obviously—" She gestured toward her head and the very obvious lack of lekku present there. "Bocce, Rodian, Alarin. I can understand some Shyriiwook and Tognath. Bits of Lasat, but mostly just cursing."

“The curses are all I remember of my childhood language,” agreed Cassian with a faint smile. If he’d known it was use it or lose it he would have tried to keep speaking. But without anyone to speak it to…

To Jyn, Cassian said in Alarin, “We have this one in common.”

—On the other hand, it had been a surprising comfort that Alarin had similarities to Kenari. It was a strange universe.

Edited 2025-05-19 01:19 (UTC)

"Good to know," Jyn replied, giving him a little smile again, like they were sharing a secret. It wasn't altogether surprising, the subject having come up before, but in the interest of maintaining that distinction in her head, she didn't want to let those conversations guide this one. It seemed better, more comfortable, to learn things from him, not fall back on what she knew of former-him.

Anyway, it was good to have another language in common. Switching back to Basic, she added by means of explanation, "I mostly picked up what I heard from Saw's people. There was a Lasat with us for a long time. Tended to curse in his language. So it stuck with me."

He loved her little smiles. People tended to think that the bigger the smile, the more sincere; Cassian knew it could be the opposite.

“That’s a trick I used undercover,” he said. “If I was supposed to be from a particular place, I’d learn the local swear words. Nothing gives a stronger impression of being from a place than what you say like it’s involuntary.”

Speaking of which, Cassian again shifted the contents of the table to bring forward the welcome packet. He’d also been matching words in both texts from it. “This doesn’t talk much about the people of this place, just about us imports. Do they have their own language?”

"Not really," Jyn answered, shaking her head. How language worked here was one of those things that seemed perpetually mysterious, and that she'd long since given up on trying to comprehend. She had a feeling it might be more of a sticking point for him, at least at first.

"Apparently it's English — the language — but that's really just the same as Basic. You'll probably hear bits and pieces of others that are familiar, too. For such a different world, there's a lot that seems to overlap."

Not for the first time, he wondered how this could be another galaxy… and why stop at language? The class-M planet, there being mostly Humans, the architecture, having all his information, having people in common. Too many commonalities started to make it more fantastical, not less. And whoever was behind it so powerful that since they hadn’t already taken over everything… or maybe this was an experiment in advance of that…

For a moment, Cassian just put his head in his hands. “Sorry,” he muttered. And exhaled one of those Kenari cursewords.

Jyn was hardly about to assume that she knew what he was thinking, but she suspected she at least had the basic idea. Given that, she couldn't tell what might be helpful, curbing the instincts both to reach for him and to offer some kind of reassurance. There wasn't really any way to make sense of any of it. She certainly couldn't ask him to trust it, when he had no reason to do so and every reason to be suspicious.

All she could really do was hope that he trusted her enough to balance some of that suspicion.

"Don't be," she replied. Watching him for another moment, she asked, "Tell me what you're thinking?"

He did trust her. More than anyone. He raised his head slowly but without hesitation.

"Part of me thinks I owe it to… someone… to figure this place out," he said. "And part of me just wants to accept the gift."

Edited 2025-05-19 02:30 (UTC)

"Could you do both?" Jyn suggested, the question an earnest one. "Take the chance for what it is, but try to figure out what you can? If you do want to, I'll do whatever I can to help you."

She doubted that would be very much, but she would try, for him. Again, she hoped — not that he knew her well enough, because he'd only known her now for a matter of days, but that he trusted her enough to believe that she wouldn't have just gone complacent and taken all of this in stride. If there were answers to be found, she thought she would have done so long ago, but she wouldn't try to dissuade him from trying and would assist in whatever way she could.

That hadn't been meant as a test, but he realized that if she'd answered any other way, he would have wondered if she were really Jyn Erso. That answer was right. Take the chance… and the next. But no, not complacent.

"I'm not exactly starting from an objective place," he said softly. "I really want this to be…" He sought for the word. At last, he reached for her hand and said, "…rest."

Easily, gratefully, she let her hand curl around his. The contact was becoming familiar again, second-nature, and she both dreaded and savored that. She didn't want to feel about him the way she did, or to find such a simple gesture so meaningful. Once taken hold, though, the effect he had on her was a difficult thing to turn off.

It was also entirely irrelevant at the moment. This wasn't about her — or, if it was, only to the extent that she had been thinking a moment before, him trusting what she had to say about all of it. If he did, just that alone would be something she appreciated more than she could say.

"It can be," she told him, her voice matching his in softness. "You should get to have that." He'd given his life to the Rebellion and then for the Rebellion. If anyone deserved a chance to rest, she believed it was him. "But I know believing that isn't so easy."

Maybe the word was 'believing'… maybe the time would come when they could walk through the city and he wouldn't keep seeing Luthen's store in every fresh window, or pass a radio and not expect it to start emitting pulse code at him. Maybe he'd stop looking for every point of ingress and egress, every possible shelter and every weaponizable object, in every fresh room; maybe he'd stop gauging every person in his view, snap-profiling those who caught his attention, and looking hardest for those unseen; maybe he'd stop seeing the dead in his periphery.

(He knew better on that last.)

Maybe the word wasn't 'should get' but 'could get'. Was he still capable?

Looking at Jyn, he sure hoped so. Because he felt the same way about her. She deserved it.

He squeezed her hand in gratitude and that same wish

I wish you peace
I wish you to live
I wish you the universe

then let go so he could sweep his study materials into a pile. "I think I'll get ready for bed."

Jyn gave him a small smile again as she got to her feet. Having just said herself that it wasn't so easy, she knew this was probably the best kind of response she could hope for right now. It was a process. Force knew she'd resisted it as often as not over the last few years. Accepting all of it was simpler at first, when she'd had him — former-him — with her. In his absence, she'd grown as restless and stubborn as ever. Still, she knew enough to know that things generally were what they seemed, without any sinister forces at play behind the scenes.

Mostly, she didn't know what to do with that. Having spent her whole life around war, peace wasn't something that came naturally to her. She appreciated it more now in Cassian's presence again, wanting him to get to have that chance.

"All right," she agreed. "I'm going to get something to drink, I'll be in in a few minutes."

It really was easier to smile with her. He returned hers and stayed until she’d gone before he went to the lav to clean up.

He had his own sleepwear now: a plain shirt and trousers, both of thin, soft fabric for the warmth of the ship. He left his socks on for the walk to the cabin, even though he planned to take them off there and it was a bit foolish. But there, on his bunk, was Jyn’s surprise: a pair of light slippers—but with rubber soles. (Shock absorbent.)

As she appeared, he turned and held them up. “These are perfect. Thank you.”

As she returned to the cabin, a glass of water in her hand, Jyn found herself suddenly self-conscious about the purchase she'd made earlier. Maybe it was something she should have suggested or just shown him instead. In the moment, it had felt right to do that one small thing for him. They were just slippers, but at the same time, they were meant to say what she couldn't — that she wanted him to be comfortable here and to feel safe.

Strange, when she didn't consider the ship her own home for her to want him to be able to see it as one, but she did. She wanted him to find that with her, no matter where they were living.

"Thought you could use something to wear around here," she replied with a shrug, attempting to downplay any of the significance of it. "I'm glad you like them."

A full grin started on his face. With sudden inspiration, he set the slippers on the floor to try them on. They fit perfectly.

“Thank you,” he repeated, fitting into the words all the significance the gift held, of his past that she’d shown this care for. “I do.” He touched her shoulder, with the feeling of an embrace.

On that note… he gestured to his mattress and said, “I was going to move it to the floor again… if that’s…?”

Edited 2025-05-19 04:19 (UTC)

"Of course," Jyn said, and let out a quiet breath of a laugh. "You don't need to ask permission. I want you to..." With her free hand, she gave a helpless little gesture. Maybe she was going to have to try to say some of what she'd just been thinking after all. "Be comfortable here." To make yourself at home, she thought, as she had nearly written in the note she left him the day he arrived and corrected herself just in time.

In truth, anyone she trusted enough to allow into her space like this, she also would have wanted to settle in, whatever that entailed. She was no kind of a host, and she definitely didn't want anyone to stand on ceremony and act like a stilted house guest, all uncertain and ill at ease. That just applied twofold to Cassian, whom she wanted to stay here, to feel like it was his as much as it was hers.

Setting her water glass down, she pulled her hair, now dry, back into a ponytail with an elastic from around her wrist. "I could move mine again too?"

He could only nod, the words I was hoping you would catching in his throat. Even though they’d talked about it, the reality still seemed too delicate, too easily startled or pressured.

She’d said she wouldn’t do anything just for him. He said he trusted her… and he did. It was always harder to trust things he wanted than things he didn’t. But this was Jyn.

Cassian laid out the bedroll on the floor, moving it flush with Jyn’s when hers came down. He moved his pillow to the seam and spread the light blanket to share, keeping alert to her for any sign he should do otherwise. Trying not to have visions of future nights reading together (he would try to read aloud from the book in English and she could correct him) or talking or… It was more than enough, right now, to put out his arm and hold his breath to see what she did.

Jyn tried not to let herself be relieved at his agreement, or nervous about what might come next. It didn't matter — at least, so she told herself. He was here, and maybe after a day less emotionally fraught, they would both be able to sleep a little better than they had the night before. Maybe starting off closer would help, too. She didn't particularly want that to be the case for herself, but there was something to be said for the comfort and security just of feeling another body nearby, a gentle warmth and breath that could signify safety.

More than that wasn't anything she could let herself hope for. He'd said this morning that he wanted to go to sleep like they'd woken up, but in her addled state at the time, she hadn't quite let those words sink in. Now, as she pulled her own mattress down to the floor beside his, shifting it over to keep them as well-aligned as possible, she bit her lip through a smile as she saw him settle around the middle of the makeshift double bed, arm held out like he was waiting for her.

There was still so much she didn't know, couldn't know, but this was easy. She put her pillow beside his, her blanket overlapping, and settled beside him in the space he'd been implicitly offering as she lay down.

On her side, head tipped up to look at him, she asked, "Is this okay?"

“Yes,” he breathed, not hiding the emotion there. (Mostly relief, and gladness.) “…Is this?” His outer arm came up and tentatively touched then draped over her ribs. “I understand if it’s too…”

"No, it is," Jyn said on a rush of an exhale. She appreciated his asking, but the last thing she wanted was a misunderstanding like they'd had this morning. It felt too good to be this close, having his arms around her, and on purpose this time, not something done in their sleep. "It's very okay."

She half wanted to echo his words to her from earlier and tell him that she didn't see there being anything he could do that she wouldn't be okay with, but it seemed better just to take things as they came. More than anything, she just liked being near him.

Edited 2025-05-19 07:04 (UTC)

He breathed out with her, so abjectly glad. If she'd said no to all this… he'd cope—wait 'til she was sleeping and take a nighttime walk around the ship, spend some time staring out of the cockpit—but oh was this wonderful.

Fitting himself to her spaces, Cassian touched his face to her hair and felt his eyes close. The eternal ache behind them… wasn't there. It was like he'd never been able to rest before, but he could now, melting into her.

…Once again, he recoiled at such thoughts, because Jyn was so much more than how she affected him, not limited to how she made him feel; she was Jyn, in of herself, out in the universe, doing and being and impacting so much.

And given all that, she was choosing, right now, to be with him, here, in his arms. His head spun at that reality, and he breathed into it, finding the rhythm of hers.

"Good night, Jyn," he murmured, beginning to drift. "Wake me if you need to."

"I will," Jyn promised, her voice soft and breathing beginning to steady. This was, really, exactly the sort of thing she should have been trying to avoid, but in the moment, it didn't matter. Being so close to him was enough to temporarily quiet the nonstop torrent of thoughts she'd been contending with since she first caught sight of him. Even though it would surely return, and even though it was probably dangerous to be letting her guard down with him like this, she could deal with that later. Right now, this was enough. "And you, too."

All entwined with each other, it would likely be inevitable for one to wake along with the other anyway, but that wasn't the point. It was all right if it happened, and she wanted him to know that. She would rather be awake and be able to try to help than have him feel like he had to deal with it on his own.

She let her eyes close, not sleepy so much as simply at ease, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "Good night, Cassian."

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crash sites keep me up at night

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