An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
What died didn't stay dead (9945 words) by CharlotteCordelier
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Andor (TV)
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso
Characters: Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor, Davits Draven, Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, Han Solo
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, not canon divergent so much as canon fuck it, fix it Moses, Space Medicine, Medical Trauma, I'm sorry I cannot take star wars swears seriously, no canon dialog is safe, the world between worlds, force ex machina, Jyn Erso drinks from the well of Mimir, Marva Andor for Senate, I watched Rebels and all I got were bad ideas, Trauma Bonding, you're alive you're alive in my head
Summary:
CW: PTSD, anxiety, chronic illness, disability, implied sexual intimacy
Ao3 Link
★★★★★★★★
Usually Bodhi insists you stay comfortable at home when he comes in from off-planet—he knows it can be a struggle getting into this part of the city, and that the crowds here can be overwhelming with so many beings coming and going from Chandrila. But today, meeting him here at the spaceport feels urgent.
So you’re in one of the lounge areas that’s afforded to pilots of Bodhi’s stature which, while a bit bougie, is at least quieter than the area you’d be in if you were waiting for a typical passenger. Still, your mind is buzzing with anxiety. You’ve been having nightmares, and as much as you hate to give them any of your energy, you won’t feel okay until you see Bodhi’s face. And he should have landed by now.
Your little C1 astromech chirps at you—a phrase that roughly translates to deep breath, you are safe.
“I know I’m safe, Cilvie,” you say. “I know he’s probably safe, too. It’s just a bad feeling.”
You close your eyes and take a deep breath anyway. When you open them Red is rolling toward you, your partner’s droid companion whistling in delight as he approaches. And not far behind him is Bodhi in his well-worn leather jacket, a sleepy smile on his face, his dark hair loose over his shoulders. He drops his duffel bag when he sees you. He knew you were coming, but he clearly didn’t expect tears upon his arrival.
“Stars, love, what’s wrong?” he asks, sweeping you into his arms. You hadn’t realized you were weeping until he was wiping your tears away.
“Nothing,” you say. “Nothing at all. I’m just so relieved.”
Cilvie warbles behind you in binary: scary sleep.
“Nightmares?” Bodhi asks. “Why didn’t you say anything? I figured you wanted to go out to dinner or something when you said you’d meet me here.”
“We could,” you say. “I didn’t want to scare you, I just felt so anxious when I woke up today—I needed to see you as soon as possible.”
Bodhi runs his fingers soft along your cheek. “I’m here, love,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
As he steps back and takes your hands, you realize he’s wearing nicer clothes than he’d usually wear to fly solo. Not dressed up, per se, but his slightly open collar and dark, tight-fitting jeans are typical attire for date night. You’re starting to feel a little guilty when Red whistles, suggesting he and Cilvie take a cab home so you and Bodhi can go out.
“It is a nice night,” you say. “We could go downtown?”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You’ve made your way to the parking garage when Bodhi takes your face in his hands and kisses you, hungrily, as you both lean against his landspeeder in the quiet, nearly empty garage. On any other day, there would be dozens of beings coming and going, but by sheer luck you’ve been given this moment, and you savor it, tucking Bodhi’s hair behind his ears so you can see his face, his warm brown eyes, the bits of silver that have started to appear in his short beard.
An engine sputters, startling the both of you, and you laugh. Bodhi tosses his duffel into the back of the speeder.
“Where to?” he asks, taking your hand as you slide into the passenger seat.
With a flutter in your heart, you reply, “Anywhere you want.”
*
When you’d first come to Chandrila, you and Bodhi had resolved to give yourselves some new firsts, some landmark moments that hadn’t quite happened because your entire relationship had been spent moving between military bases and hidden fleets, sometimes unable to see each other at all. And given the chance to experience the nervous butterflies of a first date after years of being together—maybe it was strange, but it was also exciting.
You wore the jacket Bodhi had commissioned for you, the Chandrilan leather soft and perfectly fitted to your body—the nicest piece of clothing you’d ever owned. And as you rode downtown on his newly rebuilt speeder, you rested your head on the back of his shoulder, your arms around his middle, the smell of him both familiar and new as the fresh air of Hanna City swept past you both.
The sun wouldn’t set completely for a few hours, but downtown was already starting to bustle with weekend energy. You were lucky enough to find decent parking, and Bodhi took your hand as you began walking toward the harbor. Hanna City was entirely built around a port, and you never imagined yourself in a place like this, but your new home continued to grow on you.
“Come here, love,” Bodhi said, his hair tied up in a loose bun, fly-aways a bit wild from the ride downtown. “Let me see you in this light. You’re so beautiful.”
The sun was in the sky behind him, the light like a halo, and you couldn’t help but reach to touch his face, your hand cupping his bearded jaw before tucking a few wisps of hair behind his ear. He leaned in to steal a quick kiss, soft.
The sidewalk was growing busier by the second, and Bodhi guided you through the crowd to a little café. It was a bit of a hole-in-the-wall, but inside it was homey with lush green plants in every corner, chill pop music playing, and plush seating. Toward the back you found an empty corner booth where you sat side-by-side.
“This is nice,” you said. “I haven’t been here before.”
Bodhi pulled a drink menu from the center of the table and said, “Pao told me about it. I don’t know how, but he seems to know all the good places in this city, even though he arrived weeks after us.”
“I think sometimes he has a whole secret life,” you said, perusing the tea selection.
“You know,” Bodhi said, “I hope he does.”
Bodhi took your hand under the table, and it almost did feel like a first date—a first date with your best friend, his handsome face just inches from yours as you leaned in to kiss him before the wait staff could interrupt. This was a perfect moment in perfect lighting, the goose bumps on your arms a pleasant surprise as your lips brushed across his just once before you whispered in his ear:
“I love you so much.”
*
You’d meant to go back to that café where you’d spent your first date, only to arrive and find it was closed, and not just for tonight.
“Well, kriff,” Bodhi says. “I thought this place would always be here.”
You walk up close to the transparisteel door and peer inside, then step back to read the sign again. The place is closed, but not permanently.
“Bodhi,” you say. “It’s just for renovations. There’s construction stuff in there. Our booth might be gone, but the café will be back.”
Bodhi takes your hand and pulls you toward him. “Well that’s good,” he says. “This place will always be ours. Even if they bulldoze it and put in a tourist trinket shop.”
Another couple walks up to the door of the restaurant—they’re speaking in a language you’re unfamiliar with, but you imagine the conversation they’re having is similar to yours.
“Well, where should we go?” Bodhi asks.
“Let’s walk,” you said. “Maybe there’s something new. I haven’t been to this part of downtown for a while.”
“All right love,” Bodhi says.
And somehow this walk in itself is intimate, your hand in his as the two of you squeeze close to dodge other beings on this busy weekend night, a few stars above in the ink-black sky somehow visible despite the city lights.
You make it all the way down to the harbor, the salt smell of the ocean in the air, seabirds out late looking for the occasional scrap of fried fish or pastry from tourists. And just a few blocks down along the water is a food cart selling old-fashioned Chandrilan hand pies. You and Bodhi order and take your food to a park bench not far away. Towering over you is a monument to fallen heroes of the Alliance, unveiled at the park’s dedication years ago.
“I know this isn’t what you had in mind when you met me at the spaceport,” Bodhi says. “But I’m glad we came out.”
Soon, the night birds have started to sing in the trees and, despite the crowds of the city, you feel like you’ve landed in an impenetrable moment. This bench has become yours and Bodhi’s. And it’s just the two of you when you lean into your partner, his arm around you as the evening cools, your hand soft against his chest and then curling over his shoulder as he captures you lips with his, a kiss that somehow says everything you need to hear.
“I was so anxious before you got home,” you say. “But you always know how to bring me back from the dark.”
“Love,” he says. “I can’t think of anything that would keep me from coming home to you.”
When he kisses you again you can’t help but think of all the close calls he’d had, the times he almost didn’t return. About the monument not far from where you’re sitting carved with the names of so many who didn’t get to live this fairytale after the war, never got to see a peaceful galaxy, to kiss the person they loved on a perfect park bench by the ocean. And you are both so fortunate, not just to have survived but to have survived together.
You don’t have to say any this to Bodhi. He was at the doctor with you earlier this week trying to figure out why your chronic pain had been worse in recent months and whether it was related to exposure to a fuel spill while you were stationed on Hoth. And if your pain hadn’t spiked a few days ago, you’d have gone with Bodhi off-planet to see the Navy specialist who had installed his new leg after Scarif—the only doctor he trusts—about a possible adjustment to ease his own discomfort.
But even with your pain and your loss, you both get to have this moment. A moment you know you both savor not just for yourselves but for all the friends who never came home.
“Where did you go just now?” Bodhi asks, his fingertips tracing your jaw.
“I was just thinking,” you say, “about how we got here.”
There’s a stir in the trees as a flock of birds takes off into the night.
“How about I take you home, love?” Bodhi asks, letting his kiss linger on your temple. “I want to show you how much I missed you when I was away.”
*
You’d gone back to his place that night, after that “first” date. It was sparsely furnished, but Bodhi’s place smelled like him—that leathery, woodsy scent you’d become familiar with long before the first time he kissed you on base after Endor. There wasn’t much in the way of decoration—he did have a few photos on a bookshelf, a blanket over the back of the sofa, and Red’s potted plant collection was beginning to take up a little more space than any of you had anticipated.
“So how does this go?” you asked. “This is the first time I’ve come home with you, isn’t it?”
“You know, I have no idea how this goes,” Bodhi confessed. “Before I met you…it was the academy, and then Imperial bases and a lot of time in hyperspace alone.”
“Not a lot of going home with dates,” you said.
“Hard to do that when home is so in flux.”
Home. You suspected that Bodhi’s history with the idea of home was why his apartment still looked like he’d moved in last week rather than six months ago.
“Well,” you said, “we could go sit awkwardly on the sofa, put on a holofilm, and wait for someone to make a move.”
“Sounds enticing.”
“Or you could kiss me right now, because you’ve already waited so long for this moment that you can’t wait another second.”
So he kissed you, with the exact hunger you described—a genuine hunger as he cradled your face in his hands, the short hairs of his beard brushing your skin as you felt him smile. He shrugged out of his jacket, then helped you out of yours and you ran your hands over his chest, remembering the pleasant surprise the first time you’d seen Bodhi without a shirt, the muscular frame that was so often hidden under an ill-fitting flight suit or uniform.
With his strong arms around you he asked if you’d like to stay the night, and you answered with a kiss, stumbling along the hallway toward the bedroom. Gently, he undressed you, and you him, as he pressed kisses along your jaw, and then your neck and shoulder.
As you both slid under the sheets, you tucked a lock of hair that had come loose behind his ear and he said “You are so perfect, love. All of you. You are perfect and I adore you.”
As heat rushed to your cheeks you took his face in your hands and kissed him to keep yourself from crying. This was the fresh start he’d wanted, that you didn’t know you needed, too. And it was everything.
*
You wake to the sound of glass breaking, followed by Bodhi cursing and a warble from Cilvie. You’d been in a deep sleep, but you can’t help but smile as you slowly get out of bed and wrap yourself in a soft robe—an anniversary gift from earlier this year.
“Everything okay out here?” you ask as you walk into the kitchen where Cilvie is shooing Bodhi away so she can clear a shattered plate from the floor.
“Did I wake you, love?” Bodhi asks.
“Yeah,” you say. “But it’s okay. It’s late.”
Bodhi steps around the glass to take your hand. “I told her she doesn’t have to clean that up, but she always insists.”
Cilvie chirps in binary, something about organics being too easy to open.
Bodhi pulls you close, and past his shoulder you see Red in the yard, the little droid tending to his garden. Your head resting in the curve of Bodhi’s neck, you breathe deeply, the scent of recently ground caf beans mixing with the scent of him, a deep comfort on any morning, but especially now, after the nightmares you’d had while he was away.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, running his fingertips along your spine, a slow caress that he knows you enjoy. He kisses forehead, just the lightest brush of his lips.
You pull back to meet his gaze, the look of concern on his face familiar. “Kind of stiff,” you say, “but nothing I can’t manage. Better than before your trip.”
“That’s good," Bodhi says, “but I meant in here.” He taps his index finger tenderly against your temple.
“Oh. Yeah, I feel all right today.”
“No more nightmares?”
“None.”
“Good.”
Bodhi tilts your chin toward him and kisses you, slow and tender. “I made breakfast,” he says. “A bit of it ended up on the floor, but the rest should be salvageable.”
“I’m sure whatever you made is lovely,” you say. “And even if it weren’t, all I need right now is you.”
Bodhi has you pressed up against the refrigerator, one hand on your neck and he other tracing the curve of your thigh when Red comes through the door with a bowl of berries, freshly harvested.
“To be continued,” he whispers in your ear before turning to the little droid and taking the fruit from him.
As Bodhi finishes preparing breakfast you pour yourself a cup of caf, the love in your heart threatening to spill over. You take your caf out to the back patio, followed by Cilvie who mumbles something in binary. It takes you a minute to decipher but you realize she’s said lucky and home.
“Yes,” you say, “this is a lucky home. All of us.”
You give the droid a little pat and take a seat, still in awe at the sky that somehow delivered this to you. When you hear Bodhi’s voice from inside the house, you shiver just a little, a feeling of delight and wonder running through your body. Later today you will show him this wonder. But for now, you see him standing inside with a plate for you, a perfect smile on his face, waiting for you to join him—and there’s nothing in the galaxy that you’d rather do.
★★★★★★★★
Thank you so much for reading. I know it has been a bit of a wait, but I think it has been worth it. I hope this fic makes you feel seen and loved.
Context: Some time after the battle of Scarif, Jyn and Cassian are ordered to Cassian’s homeworld of Fest, to gather intelligence which will be used to help the Alliance conduct an assault on an Imperial research facility. During their mission, they encounter a group of Festian partisans, led by an old friend of Cassian’s.
After the two bands of Rebels assess one another and determine they share the same goal, the Festian commander asks Jyn about her life as a soldier... and her relationship with Cassian.
***
The room was dark, only lit by a pair of dim glow-rods that hardly counted as illumination. The Resistance commander, whom she had heard Cassian refer to as Rigael Vernal, sat off to the side, his face obscured by a re-breather apparatus and his dark eyes masked behind a pair of infrared goggles. One of the Festian’s eyes had been cybernetically altered; presumably, Jyn assumed, as the result of a battle injury.
He turned his head cautiously toward her, lowering his respirator and lifting his goggles so that Jyn could look directly upon his face. He was young, for a rebel, around Cassian’s age, with scarred and sunken features that spoke of a life of conflict and unceasing struggle. Yet there was a sympathy in his eyes, a softness that she had scarcely seen in the eyes of other freedom-fighters. In fact, Jyn felt confident that she had seen such expressiveness only once before, when Cassian had looked into her eyes on Scarif.
“So you’re the soldier Cassian has spoken so highly about?” he asked her. His voice was soft; Jyn was half expecting the gruff, uncompromising voice of General Draven or the fiery passion of Saw Gerrera to speak to her from behind all that equipment. Instead, the voice of a man - an injured, embattled man, but a man nonetheless - spoke to her, his tone more curious than cautious or afraid.
“Yes, Sir,” she replied. “And you must be his friend.”
“His friend... and so much more,” Vernal explained. “I must admit, when he first told me of his involvement with the Rebellion I had my doubts about its success,” Vernal continued. “A fractured band of freedom fighters from across the galaxy, struggling to find control in the face of overwhelming adversity. That wasn’t the sort of life I wanted. I was a soldier, not a politician. A freedom fighter, not an idealist. For me, it was easier not to look up at the Star Destroyers overhead, only the Stormtroopers in my sights and the comrades by my side. For me, the war was personal, you know?”
Jyn nodded.
“I wanted him to stay. I needed him to stay. He was my best fighter, my brother in battle, my friend since childhood. I met him before I was old enough to even speak to him, and since then we were inseparable. We grew up together, joined the Resistance together, fought and laughed and grieved together. And then, just when we were about to make our first major offensive against the occupation...” His voice died off, and Jyn could sense a growing sense of unease filling him.
“To have him choose the Rebellion over me, to hear him say the fight for our homes and families was less important than the growing galaxy-wide resistance against the Empire, that hurt me, more than I could bear to say at the time.”
“I didn’t exactly believe in the Rebellion either,” Jyn admitted. “The Alliance, the Rebels, all they ever gave me was a life of pain. Before I met Cassian, I wanted nothing to do with them.”
Vernal frowned. “So you too were persuaded to fight for his... rebellion? He convinced you to fight with him, like he tried to persuade me?”
“Actually, I was placed under his command,” Jyn corrected. “It wasn’t a willing service, at first. Gradually, though, I... I like to think that changed. Especially after what happened to us on Scarif. Without Cassian I... I wouldn’t have survived an hour on that planet.”
“That’s what I’ve always admired about him,” Vernal replied slowly. “He cares about his cause, perhaps too much. He is a loyal, devoted soldier, and he follows orders, but deep inside, there is a passion, a fire, a... a bond with those he fights beside. I had the honor to share that bond with him, Miss Erso. I hope you consider his friendship with you as high an honor as I do.”
“It’s more than an honor, Sir,” Jyn said simply. “We’re both good soldiers. And good soldiers follow orders, except when we know they’re wrong.”
“In another life, you’d have been one of us, Jyn Erso,” Vernal said simply. “Now I understand why Cassian values your loyalty so highly.”
“As he values yours, Sir,” she said.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
My RebelCaptain Secret Santa fic for the amazing @k-lara7. They gave me the prompt "Cassian knew this was a bad idea,” which spawned about a million ideas that were difficult to choose from. Here’s the one that chomped hardest on my writing muse:
Cassian knows it’s a bad idea, standing in the shadow of Yavin IV’s great temple watching Jyn test herself against a squad of Pathfinders. He has no words to define their relationship and a million things to do to help the evacuation, but he can't help but watch.
It turned out a little less fluffy than I was planning when I started writing, and I'm amazed I wrote this many words without a single line of dialogue. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Summary: The injuries Cassian sustained on Scarif are bothering him, but he refuses to seek help until Jyn steps in.
AO3/1160 words
After Cassian had come to greet her, as he always did when he got back to base, Jyn quietly slipped away from her friends. There had been plenty of them in the hanger - she had been working on a ship with Bodhi, handing him tools, as Luke worked on R2-D2 nearby. Chirrut and Baze had also been there, their voices adding to the conversation that stopped and started easily. It was the sort of scene Jyn had struggled to get used to in the Alliance. She had friends, people who wouldn’t abandon her, who cared if she came back.
Cassian hadn’t disrupted anything, he just came to check on everyone, as he usually did. His smile, though tired, was real, and Jyn enjoyed seeing it, even if she would never admit how much.
There had been something wrong, though. Jyn had felt it for the last few weeks, whenever she interacted with Cassian. He was gone so much she didn’t get to see him as much as she wanted. A side effect of this was if anything changed, she could pick it up immediately.
Her current problem was that something about him was telling her something was wrong, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. He had dark circles under his eyes, but that wasn’t unusual. He took care when he was walking, but since Scarif that wasn’t unusual, either. The lines on his face looked deeper, making him look older than he really was.
It wasn’t one thing, but a whole lot of little things, that made her follow him into his room on base.
Which was something she had never done before, and caused him to stand very still in front of her, confusion and worry on his face. “Jyn?” he asked softly.
“Are you alright?” Her question wasn’t as soft. It was more demanding, really.
He opened his mouth, as though to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out. He look away from her, pain flinting across his face. He looked upset, a look Jyn wasn’t used to seeing. Cassian was a smooth liar, his spy mask always ready to slam down when needed, but he couldn’t seem to muster it now.
Jyn reached out and grabbed his arm. “Cassian?” They were very close, but he still wasn’t looking at her.
He pressed his lips together and closed his eyes, breathing roughly. Jyn knew he must be in pain, but she didn’t know what type of pain. And it must be bad, because he couldn’t hide it from her, either. “On Porta, I was running, and it was night, and the street had a lot of blast craters, and I stepped in one. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but…”
“Why didn’t you go to medical?”
“And say what? I stepped wrong? It sounds stupid. There are many people with real injuries.”
“Come on,” she said, pulling at his arm gently. He looked forlornly at his bed. When she pulled a bit harder, he stumbled, and Jyn, feeling horrible, quickly placed herself at his side, letting him lean on her for support. They had done all of this before, and Jyn thought he might have aggravated an injury he picked up on Scarif. Chirrut had openly wondered if he should be sent out by the Rebellion so soon, if his wounds had healed properly.
She guided him back the way they had come, to where their friends were still in the hanger. Bodhi was the first to spot them, and came over, asking “What’s wrong?”
“Cassian’s back is hurting him.”
“You want to take him to medical?”
Jyn shook her head. “Not on base. The medical cruiser.”
Bodhi, looking at Cassian and noting his uncharacteristic silence, immediately went to get both Luke and a ship.
On board the cruiser, the medical droids took in Cassian immediately, running scans and making him more comfortable. As the lines disappeared around his face, Jyn realized how much pain he must have been in for awhile. The medics didn’t try to get her to leave him, which was good because she wasn’t going to do that, though being there let her pick up on their worried silences.
He needed rest, they told her, and time in a bacta tank to heal. His back injury was a combination of many things, the fall on Scarif, the aggravation on Porta, he had been hit in the back at some point recently and had a nasty bruise - there was quite a list. Jyn wondered how he managed to pick up so many injuries and why he had tolerated the pain for so long.
The droids planned to keep him on the medical cruiser for at least a week. Jyn had every intention of staying with him. She didn’t know what she would do if she got orders that contradicted her intentions. She didn’t care to plan that far into the future.
Cassian spent his first day in treatment and his second mostly sleeping. As the dark circles and lines disappeared, he started to look more his age.
The third day, the droids wanted him up and moving around, a monitor running down his back. The huge medical ship offered plenty of places to explore, even if many of them weren’t the types of places one would normally visit. There were various types of long term treatment facilities, but there was also a nursery. One part contained vast storage for medical supplies, another a medicinal garden, arranged so those recuperating on the ship could enjoy it. Everything provided a contrast to the frantic activity and bone-chilling cold of the base on Hoth.
At the end of the day, the droids seemed happy with his progress, and promised the next day would be filled with conditioning exercises. Cassian didn’t look thrilled at the prospect, and Jyn couldn’t blame him, but she could promise him that she would be with him.
“They’re not letting you go back if you’re still in pain,” Jyn told him later. The droids had thoughtfully provided a bed for her in his room.
“Neither are you,” he said, looking at her. He was tired, but it was a good sort of tired, that comes with being busy, but not being overworked or constantly under pressure.
“Why would you want me to?” She had gathered he was accepting this treatment because he felt he didn’t have any other choice, but why he would refuse it she was still at a loss to understand. “Would you want me to be in pain?”
“No. No, Jyn, you don’t deserve-”
“Cassian,” she said. “You don’t deserve to be in pain.”
He flinched and closed his eyes. She pushed him back, gently, making room for herself on his bed, lying down next to him. She kept her hand on his chest, grabbing at the material there. He did deserve to be treated, and she would stay with him until he understood that.
A/N: This was supposed to be a couple of paragraphs. Whoops. Either way, enjoy!
Jyn has never felt pain like this in her entire life. She does not think this lightly – her life has been filled with sorrows and heartbreaks that have weighed her down and broken her into pieces. She understands pain. The kind that lives in the soul and the kind that sits on the skin. But this is a new level, even for her.
There are nurses surrounding her, trying to calm her. She cannot hear them. Her body is screaming too loud.
Harsh lights shine in her eyes. Her back is aching, like she has twisted every single one of her muscles into knots. Her stomach clenches and releases of its volition. She hates this most of all, not being able to control her own movements. She feels helpless.
“Where is he?” she cries, sweat running down her forehead. She frantically searches the room another time. Cassian is nowhere to be seen. This only heightens the pain.
A nurse swipes her hairline with a cool, damp cloth. “He’s on his way. Don’t worry, Jyn. He wouldn’t miss the birth of his own child.”
The nurse could not possibly know this. Jyn herself understands that Cassian would walk the entirety of the ice planet Hoth just to reach her in her time of need, but what if something has stopped him? What if he can’t get to her?
These thoughts swim around her mind, causing her anxiety levels to rise drastically. This, combined with the agony of labour, makes the hospital room spin.
“She’s at ten centimetres!” A nurse calls, her head beneath Jyn’s hospital gown.
Jyn knows what this means. It means pushing. But she doesn’t have the energy. Nine months of carrying this baby, eight months and one week of wishing it would leave her belly, and she can’t find it within herself to try to expel it.
“Come on, Jyn, you’ve gotta push. This baby’s ready to come out.” Her doctor is there. She is between Jyn’s legs, a mask covering the lower half of her face. Thick glasses cover the top half. She looks like an alien. “Come on,” she repeats.
Jyn shakes her head vehemently. “No,” she croaks as another contraction hits her. It rolls through her, tightening everything inside of Jyn. Her thighs burn. “Not until Cassian gets here. He has to be here!”
“Jyn,” her doctor says. She always sounds too calm. It’s unnerving. “I wish we could wait for your partner to arrive, but there is nothing we can do.”
She won’t do it. Not without Cassian. He has been with her every step of the way, holding her hand and assuring her she can get through it. He has been so good to her. Too good to her. She doesn’t deserve his kindness, but she craves it daily. Today is no different. Today, she could not bear to be without it.
But the doctor is right. She can’t wait any longer. She can feel the pressure building.
“Okay,” she says. Her eyes and mouth are filled with tears. “Okay, I can do it.”
“Yes, you can,” her doctor says.
“Wait!”
Jyn startles. The whole room, chaotic and loud and alive, pauses to look towards the door. Cassian is there. Panting, he enters the room and finds his place by Jyn’s side. She is truly crying now.
Cassian takes Jyn’s hand in his own. He brings it to his lips. She sees he is crying too.
“I thought you weren’t going to make it,” she confesses. “I thought I was gonna have to do this by myself.”
Crouching down so their eyes are level, Cassian cups the back of Jyn’s head with his free hand and kisses her wet forehead. She clenches her eyes. “I would not miss this for anything,” he insists. He is looking her directly in the eyes. A contraction is passing through her, but she ignores it in favour of losing herself in the chocolate pools of his eyes. “I’m here. I’m with you. All the way ”
“Are we ready to get pushing?” the doctor asks, a hopeful wind in her words.
Jyn cannot speak. She simply nods. The doctor tells her to lean forward and push with all of her might. With Cassian’s hand in her own, Jyn does as she is told.
After several pushes, many of which were falsely advertised as the last one, Jyn feels something give way. The pressure inside of her dissipates. She leans back against the hospital bed, knowing it is over.
There are streams of salty tears running down her cheeks. There is blood pooled between her legs. There is a harrowing tiredness to her bones. But there is also a cry. A fresh cry, released through new lungs with a gasp of new air.
A baby. Her baby. Their baby.
Cassian is still holding her hand. She fears she has broken it, but he is only smiling at her with the most precious and purest joy. He leans forward and plants kisses around her sweat-dosed face, landing the final one on her chewed lips.
“You did it,” he says. “You did it!”
Jyn laughs. It is all she can do.
“Jyn? Cassian? Would you like to meet your little girl?”
Jyn’s face brightens. Her jaw drops.
“A girl?” Cassian asks.
The doctor nods. Even she is smiling now, their swaddled child cradled in her arms.
“Yes.” Jyn is already reaching out to take the baby from the doctor. “Yes.”
The child is laid gently in Jyn’s arms. Her sweet, squished face is red from her cries, but she is silent as Jyn holds her.
She is beautiful – the most stunning creature in the galaxy.
Cassian reaches a hand inside of her swaddling clothes and takes out her hand. Five small fingers reach around Cassian’s forefinger. Jyn watches the interaction, her heart as full as it has ever been. It is true what they say – you don’t know love until you hold your child for the first time.
She only wishes their parents were alive to see this. Their legacy.
“What should we name her?” Cassian’s attention is fully on the sleeping newborn.
Jyn does not need to think. Though her and Cassian spent many weeks arguing about names, it is in this moment the right one comes to her mind. She uses her available hand to stroke her baby’s face, sobbing out a laugh when the girl’s cheek jumps.
“Hope,” she says. It is a worn name that K-2 will think is cliché, but Jyn knows it is right.
Cassian finds her gaze. He grins at her. He looks so like a little boy who has found a lost treasure. “Hope.”
They are in agreement. They always are.
Feeling she has spent far too long watching Cassian, Jyn returns her attention to their dozing child – to their hope.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso
Characters: Cassian Andor, Jyn Erso
Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Aftermath of Torture, Recovery, Healing, Survivor Guilt, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Slow Burn
Summary:
Cassian and Jyn survive Scarif. Most days, she wishes they hadn't.
It's never easy to keep on living after you expected to die.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor & K-2SO
Characters: Cassian Andor, Jyn Erso, K-2SO (Star Wars)
Additional Tags: Grief/Mourning, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Cybernetics, Friendship, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Dorks in Love, Serious Injuries, Hurt/Comfort
Series: Part 2 of now you're the future
Summary:
After narrowly surviving his injuries on Scarif, Cassian wakes to the loss of Kay, uncertainty about Jyn, and a damaged spine.
