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quarantineddreamer · 1 year

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Synchronous Scars | Chapter 9

Whew this one took awhile! A healthy dose of writer's block mixed with imposter's syndrome does not make for the most productive working environment, but we're finally here, and I am so happy to be back with this fic. I hope you'll enjoy the update! Snippet below and as usual full chapter under the cut, or above on AO3. Thanks for reading! (And any reblogs, recs, comments etc. greatly appreciated 💙)

Chapter 9

Sleep was not something that had ever come easily to Cassian. In many ways, he considered it a form of surrender, leaving him at the mercy of whatever torture his traitorous mind would conjure.

Once he drifted off, the trees would be there to greet him .

Tall and reaching, with trunks like prison bars stretching across his vision in every direction, trapping him. Not Kenari, but a twisted parallel, just close enough to be familiar, and all the more painful for it.

Vines would reach out to wrap around his ankles and wrists, rooting him to the spot, helpless to take any action as the forest’s shadows began to take the shape of his greatest failures.

His mother’s silhouette before him, crumbling against a violent red. Kerri’s eyes, wide and black and so afraid. Searching, always searching, with a voice small and hurting. Calling his name again and again, until the surrounding ether consumed her.

Cassian shook his head–willing inevitable nightmares from his thoughts–and returned his focus instead to listening. Straining to catch the subtle click of a lock turning, or the quiet hiss of a door opening, the soft fall of footsteps retreating into the night...

They had been fortunate enough not to encounter any further trouble following the strange run-in with Jyn’s ‘ghosts’. Even luckier still, to find a cheap hotel tucked off of Famu’s main thoroughfare with two open rooms. The woman at the counter had accepted the credits Jyn slid across the table without so much as a glance upwards.

The rooms they’d been given were next to each other, and when Jyn punched in the keycode to her room the door had opened smoothly, with little sound aside from a brief rush of air, practically a whisper.

There had been an awkward beat, Cassian watching her, trying to discern if this would be the last time he saw her, or what she might look like in another 6 years–so he’d be able to recognize her if, by some impossible chance, their paths crossed again.

He hadn’t dared to ask her outright if he’d be seeing her in the morning.

“Good night, Cassian,” she’d said softly, avoiding his eyes as she disappeared into her room.

Goodnight, Jyn.

Cassian rolled to his back, contemplating the blank expanse of the ceiling, glowing a hypnotic blue from the moonlight that streamed through his open window.

His body should have been screaming for rest—already, he could feel the ache of tomorrow beginning to set in, the fresh scrapes and bruises from his fight on Morlana One making themselves known–but instead it was betraying him.

It was absurd, well beyond logic, and completely unrealistic, but he swore he could still taste her on his lips, could still smell her hair–flowers, rain, and smoke–with each inhale, the soft skin of her back against the palm of his hand, heating his wrist…

There was a gentle bump somewhere in the hallway and Cassian found himself holding his breath, waiting for any sounds that might follow, for any indication she was leaving.

But there was nothing, only a distant ringing in his ears–a souvenir from his time fighting on Mimban.

He wondered what damages he might collect from whatever hellhole the Empire shipped him off to this time. Or maybe they wouldn’t even bother, maybe the notice that had–no doubt by now–been sent out from Morlana One simply read shoot on sight, and when his mistakes caught up to him that would be it.

Maybe he had seen Ferrix for the last time and–just like with Kenari–not even known it.

The image of Clem waiting up for him to get home–as he had done countless times throughout Cassian’s youth–bore too close a resemblance to his nightmares of Kerri doing the same. His stomach in knots, Cassian rolled from the bed and wandered into the hallway, seeking one of the communal freshers and the sharp slap of some cold water on his face to clear his head.

At the end of the empty, dark hallway was a door that had been painted blue to mark the location of the fresher. But when Cassian entered the code the hotel had provided to unlock it, the word ‘ ERROR’ flashed back at him, the keypad emitting three short beeps of defiance.

“One sec. I’m almost done,” a familiar voice echoed from within the fresher.

Something tickled at his chest, a strange combination of surprise, delight, and relief rushing through him. “Jyn?”

For a moment the only sound was the faint drip of water; he thought he might have heard her give a quick kark under her breath. Then the door hissed open to reveal Jyn, her outline haloed by the warm glow of the fresher behind her.

Like him, she was wearing the same clothes from the day–swimming in the shirt she’d borrowed from him on the ship. Her hair was still damp from showering and she had her head angled to the side as she continued to squeeze at her ends with a fluffy gray towel. She lifted an eyebrow at him, “What are you still doing up?”

“I could ask the same of you,” he pointed out.

She shrugged and lowered the towel. “I’ve learned to never pass up hot water when you have it.”

There was a slight downward curve to her mouth that made him think she wasn’t telling the whole truth, but he refrained from challenging her statement. “Fair enough…”

“Well…” Jyn shifted in the doorway, making space for him to pass her. “All yours,” a slight smirk played at her lips. “Good thing too.” She mimed plugging her nose and waving at the air, “You smell atrocious.”

“Thanks for that,” Cassian gave a dry laugh, “very kind of you to say.”

“No, really–I would know. I got a good whiff in the alleyway when we were–” She cut herself off abruptly, and were it not difficult to tell with the strange lighting of the fresher and the darkness of the hallway dividing her face, he might have said he saw a faint blush creep across her face. “Anyways,” she gestured somewhat awkwardly to the fresher behind her, “all yours.”

But he still couldn’t shake the sense that something was troubling her, and as she stepped into the hallway–her shoulder brushing against him–instinct compelled him to call after her, “Jyn?”

She turned and looked back at him. The expression on her face was carefully guarded, giving nothing away, but it was something in her eyes, capturing the light like twin lanterns, that confirmed his suspicions–an uneasiness in them that reminded him of the faraway look that had overcome her in the bar.

What’s the real reason you’re still awake? he almost asked, before noticing Jyn’s wary, shifting posture and thinking better of it. “Just…” let me know if there’s anything I can do. But he bit back the words, still too knowing, too familiar, and went with, “Hope you get some sleep.”

Her fingers picked at the threads of the towel that lay across her shoulders. “Yeah,” she murmured, a curious tilt to her head as she slowly turned away. “You too...”

Inside the fresher, the mirror was still fogged with moisture from Jyn’s recent visit and foamy suds from the soap she’d used lingered atop the drain, the minty scent clouding every breath Cassian took. Traces of sweat, blood, and grime from the streets of Morlana One washed away easily enough, but he found the picture of Jyn’s small figure retreating down the shadow soaked hallway remained stubbornly embedded in his thoughts.

On the day he’d met her, he’d learned the hard way just how resistant she could be to the help of another, and what had happened mere hours ago on the streets of Famu only served to remind him further of her stubbornness.

Which was why, even after his feet automatically carried him to her door instead of his own, he hesitated–hand wavering over its surface and a million thoughts buzzing through his head.

She might resent him for any further attempt at assistance, she might assume that he was there for all the wrong reasons...

The door flew open before he could make up his mind, revealing Jyn in the entryway, blaster in hand and leveled at his stomach, her eyes blazing.

It was the second time in less than a day that she had pointed a gun at him, and in retrospect a part of him knew he should have expected this might happen; as it was he nearly jumped out of his skin. “No, no, no, Jyn. Jyn, it’s me.”

“ Kark , Cass–do you know how close I just came to shooting you?”

Pretty fucking close, he guessed.

If she caught the ashen look on his face, she gave no signs of concern. Instead, she leaned past him to scan the hallway behind, “What’s wrong?” she demanded.

“We’re fine,” he said, nudging her back into the entryway–out of sight from any unlikely wandering eyes. He put his hand on her forearm, gently pushing till she grudgingly lowered her weapon. “Nothing’s wrong. I just came to check on you.”

She stilled, staring up at him with a mix of puzzlement and surprise, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath on his chin. “Oh…”

Now that his heart rate had returned to normal and he could think clearly again, he couldn’t resist. “Cass?” he asked her with a slight smirk.

“Shut up,” she muttered, though she mirrored his expression. “I’m still armed.”

He didn’t tell her that Cass was also what his family and friends called him, that he liked the idea of being able to place her in that category.

“Anyways,” he forced himself to lean away, clearing his throat. “It just seemed like maybe there was something bothering you,” he gestured to the blaster in her hand, “like you were on edge.”

The corners of her lips fell, and he almost regretted bringing it up at all–regretted ending whatever rare flash of carelessness she’d managed to seize. “I’m fine,” she answered, words sounding more sigh than truth.

His gaze lingered on her hand, firmly gripping Clem’s old blaster. “Looks like it…” he murmured.

He caught the twitch of her shoulders tightening, the brief flicker of a glare jumping across her face. But the irritation vanished as soon as it appeared, replaced by a look, not quite of surren der, but of something close to it; if not trust, understanding. “The pair that followed us,” she said at last. “Seeing them brought up some things from my past that I’d rather forget. Between them and what happened on Morlana today I guess I’m just a bit…unsettled.”

Cassian ran his fingers through his hair hoping the movement would distract from the color he felt rising in his cheeks. It wasn’t like he was ashamed of what had happened between him and Jyn in the alley, but the idea that fear of the pair that had followed them had kept her awake, while he had been tossing and turning recalling how much he’d enjoyed that particular encounter, did make him feel a bit guilty.

Jyn seemed not to have noticed his fidgeting. She was pressing her back into the doorframe opposite where he stood, tips of her boots nearly touching his own.

The boots served as an indication of just how far from rest she had been, ready to run at a moment’s notice. “I’m sorry, Jyn,” he said, studying what hints of exhaustion she had let slip. (Slouching shoulders, bleary eyes, the barely perceptible sway as she shuffled her weight from foot to foot.) “The mess with the corpos…you wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me.”

“Actually, I think it’s the other way around,” she quipped, with a slight smile that quickly faded into something more serious. Her eyes met his and held for a long moment, sending a rush of warmth to his core. “I’m definitely not ‘ glad’ I’m here,” she admitted, “but I am glad you are.”

He had to resist the urge to step closer to her, something about the softness in her voice like strings, tugging at his insides. Looking pointedly at the blaster still in her hand he said, “I could stand watch outside your door, wake you if there’s someone coming.”

“That’s–”

“The least I can do for landing you in all this trouble?” he offered; a gentle push. When was the last time she’d had someone to watch her back? Look out for her? Ferrix might not have been his choice–would never replace what he had known on Kenari–but at least he had Brasso. At least he had Bix, Bee, Clem–Maarva in her own occasionally misguided ways. Even if they didn’t always understand him, he knew they cared for him.

Jyn’s mouth was pressed into a thoughtful line, teeth pulling at her lower lip.

“I promise if anyone shows up I’ll wake you up so you can do the honors.”

“Alright, alright,” she said, shaking her head. “But if you linger in the hallway you’ll only draw unnecessary attention.” She stepped backwards into the room, “I guess you’d better come in...”

Her suite was a mirror to his own–if not slightly narrower–with the same hollow, sterile quality; all white walls and bedding, with ugly tan furniture and the smell of cleaning chemicals. But there was something about standing in such a space with another person–standing in it with Jyn –that seemed to soften some of the room’s coarser features.

She stopped awkwardly at the end of the bed and turned to face him, waving at a chair placed in a corner by the window. “I’m not convinced it was designed for sitting. I think it’s main use is decoration. Or maybe punishment...” It was her way of offering him an out, making it clear that–regardless of any anxiety she was feeling–she didn’t need this, she was just fine on her own thank you.

He walked towards the chair and dragged it to where Jyn was standing, turned it to face the door.

She rolled her eyes at him as he sat down–the chair giving an ominous screech–but he noticed that before she climbed into bed, she took a moment to remove her boots, lips curving in a small smile as she stretched cramped toes. If nothing else, he’d given her that bit of relief.

He forced his attention onto the door as she settled; messing with the sleeves of her shirt, pulling the covers over her legs, smacking at the pillows with her palms. The habits of someone unaccustomed to sleeping on a forgiving, cushy surface; he recognized them, knew them well.

Not long after, she gave a heavy sigh. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her roll onto her back, stare at the ceiling–another familiar gesture. “How are you going to function tomorrow on no sleep?” Jyn grumbled.

“I wasn’t getting any sleep anyways,” Cassian replied with a shrug. He was used to making do on very little rest, it wouldn’t be an issue.

“Why not?”

He glanced at her, caught her now curled on her side and angled slightly to face him, eyes open and bright with moonlight. Her hair was down, dark strands of it curling on the pillow beneath her head. Force, she was beautiful. Anyone else and he would’ve been trying to charm his way into the bed to lay beside her. But his intentions tonight were–for once, strangely–more honorable than that. He dragged his eyes away. “Go to sleep, Jyn.”

“Why?” she asked again, still watching him.

He swallowed hard, looked to the door again, and did his best to ignore the burn of her gaze, sending heat up his spine. “I never sleep well.”

He thought for a moment that she had fallen asleep, or else was done talking, but then her voice came again, barely more than a whisper, “Bad dreams?” And there was another question in there, audible only in his mind: You too?

“Bad dreams,” he agreed quietly, pulling his wrist across the arm of his chair to combat a sudden itch.

Another lapse of silence and then, “What are they about?”

Her words drifted through the air and settled onto his skin like a fine mist, seeped through the surface and into his blood till he could feel her there, a distant echo ringing in his veins. “Go to sleep, Jyn,” he said again, because he didn’t know what else to say–was afraid of what he might say or do if he surrendered to the feeling.

“The day we met. When I woke up on Ferrix… You were dreaming.”

He squeezed his eyes shut to keep from looking at her, certain it would only result in ruin. A reply came tumbling out of his mouth anyways, “It’s always the same one. My home planet, the day my mother died. My sister…”

“Sister?” Jyn asked, and he could picture the blink of surprise so vividly, he realized just how futile an effort it was to keep his eyes shut.

“Kerri,” he murmured, studying the blurred outlines of the shadows splashed onto the wall; the sound of her name on his lips as sweet as it was painful. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d said it outloud, probably it was on the day he’d lost her. In all the time he had spent searching for her, he had never told anyone her name. As though he had been waiting for her to be the one to bring it back to life.

“Kerri,” Jyn repeated softly. There was something to the way she said it, syllables like sparks, brightening the room around them, bringing his sister out of the dark hollows of his mind and into the light. Somehow, she knew, “That’s who you were searching for…on Morlana.”

“Yes,” Cassian breathed, still unable to look at her, feeling the steadying weight of her eyes all the same. “When Clem and Maarva found me I was just a kid… I didn’t know what was happening, what they were saying. I tried to tell them, but…she got left behind.” Abandoned. I abandoned her.

“Cassian…” she seemed to be searching for words, but because it was her, he felt that even just the sound of his name said enough.

He pressed his face into his hands and let out a long, heavy breath. There was lead in his bones, the gravity of a guilt that threatened to pull him down or snap him in two, whichever came first.

His pain found an echo, Jyn letting out a sigh of her own. “You think it’s your fault,” she said, not a question, a statement. “You think that you could’ve done something different, something that would’ve changed what happened, fixed everything…”

There was an understanding to her words. Somewhere in her past, there was something she felt responsible for, the same way he did Kerri. He wanted to know what it was, “You had a nightmare…that night on Ferrix.”

“My mother,” Jyn murmured, and out of the corner of his eye he saw sheets rustling, her hand sliding beneath the covers to reach for her chest, as though to hold something in place. “I watch her die, I watch her killer walk away with–” she swallowed the words. “It’s like you said: always the same.”

When he turned, he found her staring into a dark corner of the room, one hand squeezing her upper arm, the other tangled in a cord that hung from her neck–her fingers were wrapped tight around something connected to it. “Was that hers?”

She opened her palm, revealing a translucent crystal, glowing as though it had absorbed every spare sliver of moonlight from its surroundings. “It was,” she answered softly.

He wanted to tell her that whatever had happened, it wasn’t her fault, but those words had never provided him with any of the relief that was intended, and he knew she would deny them just as vehemently as he always did.

So instead, he let the quiet persist, sensing her there—far from sleep–and like him, running through faint wisps of memories again and again until they turned to hard, painful knots.

But at least one of them needed to get some rest. Cassian called out to her again, playfully, trying to cast the sadness from the room, “You should really go to sleep.”

“And you should mind your own business,” Jyn retorted, a smirk emerging in her voice. “If I’d known you were going to spend the whole time nagging I’d never have let you in here.”

‘There are other things I could do with the time if you prefer….’ He bit his lip to keep his smart mouth from landing him in trouble.

The bed gave a low creak, and Cassian watched, puzzled, as Jyn sat up, slowly reaching behind her for the pillows, then yanking at the covers until she had pulled the ends free from under the mattress.

“What are you doing?” he asked, when she began to toss the pillows towards the end of the bed.

She slowly clambered after the pillows, moving closer to him. His question went unanswered as she carefully rearranged herself, feet pointing to the headboard, head resting atop a pillow situated at the end of the bed, just beside his chair.

She left one pillow free, not bothering to look at him as she gently pushed it towards him. “That one’s for you,” she murmured.

There was a tightness in his chest as he reached for the item and settled it behind his neck, the surface of it smelling of her freshly-washed skin and damp, perfumed hair.

“I wanted a better shot at the door,” Jyn told him. “Just in case.”

He didn’t quip at the lack of trust her statement implied, didn’t try to argue the obvious (her position before had offered a better angle). Instead, he glanced to his left, where he could just see the soft, pale curve of her cheek. “Good night, Jyn,” he breathed into the silence.

“Good night, Cassian,” she said, voice muffled as she buried her face deeper into her pillow.

And he couldn’t be sure, but he thought there might have been a genuine note of ease to the steady exhale she gave, before she finally shut her eyes.

#rebelcaptain fanfic #rebelcaptain #jyn x cassian #andor au #jyn erso x cassian andor #*casually updates on a monday after literal months*#b writes #therebelcaptainnetwork #rebelcaptain fic #rebelcaptain fanfiction

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