(If that made her soft… Cassian, as a student of [among others] Mon Mothma and Bail Organa, would argue it made her strong. All the moreso when the Empire would have been trying to program it out of her.
He felt her fingertips. Like reaching antennae, his fingers curled in, responding to and deepening the contact; until they slipped between each of hers and entwined them.
When had anyone last held his hand… it had been him holding theirs to give strength or comfort in desperation, and they would have known him as Fulcrum.
Ever else…? Ever not just in crisis but in… maybe? tenderness?
…and not a lie?
…this was still a lie. For all Cassian's (rather successful) espionage technique involving relying mainly on the truth, there was still the predicating lie. With that, there were lines he would not cross.
But perhaps he'd get well enough, help would reach them, he'd successfully get out and she'd still choose to go with him; perhaps then, when he corrected the lie, she would understand it.
Thinking too far ahead again. Usually he wasn't so bad about that. Usually he was good at separating when he couldn't afford and couldn't not afford to focus solely on the present.
Blame the injuries. Blame the drugs.
Blame whatever was doing with his neurons and nerves in the orbit of Jyn Erso.
He needed both to break this moment, but also sustain it. Maintain connection even if narrowing it down.
Solution: talking.
"Do you know where you'd go, if you could go anywhere? Where you'd want?"
Jyn's teachers - and the Empire as a whole - would argue that it made her weak. But she didn't know how to turn off her capacity for caring about people, and quite honestly, the thought of not being able to ever turn it back on again frightened her more than she would like to admit.
Maybe she just hadn't been made for Imperial life. Maybe, more and more, she was realizing that perhaps her path was diverging from the one she was expected to stay on, that maybe she was beginning to stray into something entirely unknown.
He accepted the exploratory touch and escalated it until their fingers were wound together in a way that she was certain that she had never experienced before. Her parents had held her hands at various points in her childhood, of course, but those felt so markedly different that she didn't really know how to process anything other than how much she didn't want to have to let go.
Funny how she hadn't realized how much she needed the comfort and reassurance until she had offered it first. Jyn needed a moment to clear her head, so for a moment, she didn't respond to the question at hand.
Instead, she tried to catch the breath that had been stolen from her and steady the erratic beating of her heart, and try to appear as though she wasn't nearly as affected by the touch as she was.
She was fine. This was nothing. Certainly not anything to give any thought at later. Certainly not something to wonder about in terms of when rescue arrived, not if, because he certainly hadn't meant with him as in with him and she was ...
...
Kriff, she was being utterly ridiculous.
"Ah - ", she eventually offered, shrugging gently. "I don't know. I haven't seen my father in years and at this point, I don't know if either of us want to see each other. I guess I'd just have to ... find a place to belong."
He wasn't trying to monitor her pulse; but his fingers nearest her wrist felt it a bit nonetheless. Its acceleration made an echo in his own.
Hadn't he thought, a game of dejarik ago, he should wait at least a day before suggesting anything like—?
"If you wanted it," he said softly, "my people can always find a place for someone with your skills. You could give us a test drive. We could still drop you off somewhere else later, if you decided you didn't like us."
(And what "people" was Ord Mantell deepdock liaison Gabrael Willix supposed to have? It was a risk. It wasn't too late for her to change her mind and turn him in, on discovering he might be someone of Imperial interest after all. Like, y'know, a Rebel.)
Old habits. At least it wasn't very obvious that was what he was doing. As for Jyn ... it had just been a long time since she'd shared such intimate contact with anyone. It was just a little overwhelming - but Jyn did not let go.
She was silent as she listened to Gabrael's offer, and took her time in pondering it. Jyn Erso was not a particularly naive woman, and knew that there was an underlying layer to it - and that it probably mean that he was affiliated with the Rebels if not an outright part of them.
But -
"My nursing skills?", she gently teased. "Do you get into enough trouble to warrant keeping me around?"
All teasing aside, after another quiet moment, she spoke up again. "You think your people would accept someone like me?"
He didn't respond to the teasing question. She'd already demonstrated other skills: tactical thinking regarding the communication codes, a level of subterfuge in getting him supplies (assuming, again, this wasn't all a setup, but it was a pretty well-founded assumption), and even her dejarik playing spoke of applicable talent.
To the real question: "Yes." Dare he say we welcome defectors just yet? That would really shout 'Rebels'.
Possibly to deflect a little—more possibly not—his thumb moved slightly on her skin. And he said a little more quietly, "And I'd vouch for you."
It had mostly been meant as distraction, anyway, and clearly, Gabrael hadn't fallen for it. Impressive, considering the injuries he was still grappling with. But if he wanted a serious answer (it was too soon to give him one, wasn't it, too soon to decide the trajectory of the rest of her life?), Jyn supposed she couldn't try to deflect.
"You'd be taking a a big chance - ", she murmured, breathing slightly erratic. "You don't even know me."
Nothing but trouble. A thorn in the higher ups' sides. Not worth taking that chance on.
Finally, Jyn managed to huff out the approximation of an amused little breath, offering the gentlest of nudges to Gabrael's shoulder, not to jostle or hurt, but to tease. "Well, yeah, obviously."
Despite all of that, he still wanted to vouch for her - ? And maybe she shouldn't overlook the gift that he was offering her, the chance to get away and start anew and maybe ...
>Maybe he'd be there when she did, maybe she wouldn't find herself lost and lonely without a friendly face to turn to ...
"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it, yeah?"
His hurting head was beginning to swim again, but he still smiled.
He closed his eyes for a second to refocus his eyes, and wasn't sure how much time had passed when he opened them again. He had a feeling it had been longer than a blink.
"I guess I might be falling asleep," he murmured apologetically.
It was a hazy smile, at least as far as Jyn could tell, but it was a smile nonetheless. She easily returned it - at least until his eyes shut and did not open again for a while, and her lips pulled into a thin line as she placed a gentle palm against his forehead, feeling for fever.
Warm, but not burning up. That seemed as good a sign as any.
Jyn wasn't expecting Gabrael to open his eyes again, but he did, and her soft little smile slowly returned.
"Guess you probably need the rest. I should go, let you sleep."
Even though she didn't move a muscle in order to do so.
He didn't say it out loud. But that didn't mean that Jyn wasn't already thinking it herself anyway.
She almost wanted to cringe, it was such a ridiculous thing to want, much less ask for. They were strangers. He was only tolerating her because she hadn't turned him over to the authorities. That was it, that was all. And once she outlived her usefulness, they would part and never see each other again.
It was the way these things worked.
But she bit back the urge to ask if he wanted her to stay (I just want to make sure that you make it through the night) and sighed instead, nodding her head gently in response to his question.
"Of course. I have to come check on you, bring you something to eat."
And then, for his own personal knowledge -
"I also inputted my personal holo-mail address into the pad. So … if you need anything, you can always let me know rather than waiting for when I'm able to get away."
Wow. She added it like it wasn't a big deal, but… that was a huge sign of trust. For him not to send something that would get her in trouble, even if it somehow didn't get him also found out. (Because, c'mon, no way wasn't the Empire monitoring its own peoples' intraoffice communiques.)
He tried to pour some of that awareness, appreciation, floored-ness, into the way he said, "Thank you.
"Is there… a kind of username I should make, that blends in, or a way to sign off that works best…?"
Jyn knew it was a big deal - and the next biggest risk she had ever taken, after having rescued Gabrael in the first place! But for whatever reason, even after only a few days, she was trusting that it wouldn't lead to their shared downfall.
But if they continued to be careful ... maybe he would be able to make that escape once he was physically able.
And maybe Jyn would finally manage to extricate herself from the grasp of the Empire and all the abhorrent things they wanted her to continue doing.
"Already set up - all you have to do is open the mail application. I mirrored an address from Requisitions so it won't look suspicious. I do have an acquaintance from there, so if you do send a message, end it with something like 'I'll see you at breakfast' or 'when do you think you'll return that holonovel I loaned you'. Something congenial and innocuous."
Not that she didn't appreciate the thanks, but truth be told, it still made her a little uncomfortable. For as much as she wanted to believe that she was just doing what was right, her upbringing and subsequent adult experiences have taught her otherwise.
Still, she didn't regret what she had done.
She didn't flinch away from the touch, and wished -
"Rest well", she finally offered, her voice thick as she finally found enough determination to get to her feet. "I'll see you tomorrow."
And with that, she took her leave ... before she lost the determination and decided to stay.
It was hard to keep his eyes open, but he did until the door closed behind her.
Then at last he closed them, letting his head fall back, and his lips part to drag in deeper breaths.
…And stopped judging himself for it… how ludicrous, how strange, why here and now when he'd gotten so good at never allowing it elsewhere and elsewhen, why her, what the hell…
and just, in the safety of his own mind, allowed it.
Allowed imagining the feel of her in his arms, until the comfort of the fantasy let him fall into sleep.
Would it show how weak she truly was if she did? If she admitted that she wanted to be close, share comfort with each other? She felt weak, in any case. He was still a stranger and she was far more accustomed to being alone, even on a base full of people.
Ridiculous, the wanting.
She kept to the shadows until she was back in her quarters, where she stood underneath the spray of her shower until she could stand it no longer, and then collapsed into her bunk, alone.
She would sleep, but she wasn't sure she would find any rest. At least he could send a message to her datapad if he needed anything. The best thing she could do was prepare for the day ahead - her work, of course, but also procuring more items to assure Gabrael's continued survival.
That was progress. He drank all the water Jyn had left him and tried experimentally to stand and stretch. Just a little, very carefully, cataloging every part of his body. Not great, but better.
He also finally had the wherewithal to look around. He didn't search the place. …Much. Not to any strenuous extent. Not prying open resisting crates or even straying far from the cot. It wasn't so urgent; he wasn't a prisoner. He didn't need to look for weapons or tools or prepare tricks. Nonetheless—lulled as he was tempted to be in trusting Jyn, one should have contingencies. If she turned out to be deceiving him, or stopped showing up, because she'd been transferred, or thought she was being watched, or got caught—
He found himself hoping that, if it had to end badly, it would be her deceiving him. Bad for him, but preferable to her getting caught or imprisoned or killed—
These were strange, strange thoughts. He shouldn't give them any more focus.
Sitting back down, he picked up the datapad. He avoided any activity that would raise a flag for Imperial monitors. He just caught up on some general Galactic news. Infuriating as it was through Imperial filters. He knew their spin codes well enough to be able to interpret their reporting.
He thought about messaging Jyn. Just to confirm the line was open. He decided against it.
After a while, he set the datapad on some droning analysis of which minerals made the best droid parts. (—something that interested him that wouldn't be completely skewed, on Imperial channels; unlike news or history or language or culture—) And he tried to get back to the sleep. Sleep helped the body heal. The more of it, the quicker recovery.
He wasn't sure if he succeeded. He zoned in and out of the narration, but when the finally gave up and sat upright, he didn't feel much more rested.
He was, on the other hand, more concerned. Jyn had usually looked in by now.
He picked up the datapad again. Considered. And, this time, decided in favor.
To: J Erso Subject: lunch break
did you like the holonovel ? interested what you think . shifts allowing can discuss over meal ? - also, not to rush you but will need it back eventually . later - g
Every atom in Jyn's body vibrated with an urgency to get back to the storage shed to check that he'd made it through another night. But she had duties to attend to, and it would be noticed if she suddenly didn't show up.
She had to resist the urge to check her messages every few minutes even though if he did send a message, she would receive the notification. Strange, how deep the need to ensure his condition ran, but it was there as the minutes ticked by longer than they ever had before.
She had never had reason to trust anyone as much as she trusted Gabrael. And that was a mistake in and of itself, wasn't it? She didn't know him. What if this was some sort of complicated and convoluted ruse to catch her betrayinig the Empire, to finally have concrete reason for punishment much, much worse than another demotion?
The logical part of her brain insisted that no one in their right mind would willingly put themselves in harm's way - and he was very badly injured - just for the sake of sussing out personnel who were a little less than loyal. Anybody else would've turned him over to the proper authorities, but maybe Jyn wasn't just like everybody else.
Just as she was about to leave and begin the arduous task of procuring more supplies, Jyn was summoned to Requisitions, where she was tasked with assisting with some light (ie: hours long) boring, mundane inventory.
Thankfully, after all the wondering and worrying she did as she worked, when the message came in, she felt like she could breathe a sigh of relief. He was fine - as fine as he was going to be, given the circumstances, and he was checking up on her.
The response was returned quickly.
sorry for lateness. recruited to do inventory. will be available for discussion and a bite soon.
But first, the gathering of supplies that would see him safely through another night on base. Food, drinks, med supplies. It ended up being another nearly two hours before once more, she slipped into the storage room that housed her patient.
The comm drone had moved on from droid part minerals to Craft Talk with the Piston Brothers. A bit more strenuous, more like work, but still a distraction. They were wisecracking about the inherent balance problem of AT-AVs and how to compensate for it, when the door opened.
Cassian, having given up on pushing himself and lain back down, automatically tensed. Even though, if it were anyone but Jyn, there was no available action that could help him.
Belatedly, Jyn realized that the smartest thing to do was agree on a code - a word, a sentence, a specific noise - anything that would alleviate the uncertainty on both sides in the moments before she actually appeared within his range of sight.
But for now - "It's just me", spoken softly, just loud enough for him to hear was going to have to do.
Her footsteps were quick and quiet as she made her way from the entrance to the back corner, where she hoped she'd find him tucked away as safely as possible - and hopefully doing a little better than he'd been the day before.
He let himself fall back on the cot, relieved beyond what he should have been considering they'd already agreed on her visiting… but who could ever tell what might happen between last confirmations and showing up.
"You made it," he said, as if in the light idiomatic way, but also in real gratitude. He wouldn't take for granted how much she was risking every time she decided to come back.
Jyn could understand that particular relief. Anything could have happened from the time she left to the time she returned - Gabrael had been fighting a valiant battle to recover from his injuries, but who was to say that he wouldn't eventually take a turn for the worst? She didn't want to consider the possibility that she would arrive some afternoon and find him cold and unresponsive, but she was smart enough to realize that it could happen.
She just had to continue to count her lucky stars that they hadn't been caught yet, that there was still a chance that rescue could happen, that she could make her escape, too. It was the hope that kept her going day after day now, when she hadn't really had any before.
"Just like I promised", she replied, stripping her bag off and setting it down before she settled into her customary spot near the pallet. "Well? Any better today?"
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He felt her fingertips. Like reaching antennae, his fingers curled in, responding to and deepening the contact; until they slipped between each of hers and entwined them.
When had anyone last held his hand… it had been him holding theirs to give strength or comfort in desperation, and they would have known him as Fulcrum.
Ever else…? Ever not just in crisis but in… maybe? tenderness?
…and not a lie?
…this was still a lie. For all Cassian's (rather successful) espionage technique involving relying mainly on the truth, there was still the predicating lie. With that, there were lines he would not cross.
But perhaps he'd get well enough, help would reach them, he'd successfully get out and she'd still choose to go with him; perhaps then, when he corrected the lie, she would understand it.
Thinking too far ahead again. Usually he wasn't so bad about that. Usually he was good at separating when he couldn't afford and couldn't not afford to focus solely on the present.
Blame the injuries. Blame the drugs.
Blame whatever was doing with his neurons and nerves in the orbit of Jyn Erso.
He needed both to break this moment, but also sustain it. Maintain connection even if narrowing it down.
Solution: talking.
"Do you know where you'd go, if you could go anywhere? Where you'd want?"
no subject
Maybe she just hadn't been made for Imperial life. Maybe, more and more, she was realizing that perhaps her path was diverging from the one she was expected to stay on, that maybe she was beginning to stray into something entirely unknown.
He accepted the exploratory touch and escalated it until their fingers were wound together in a way that she was certain that she had never experienced before. Her parents had held her hands at various points in her childhood, of course, but those felt so markedly different that she didn't really know how to process anything other than how much she didn't want to have to let go.
Funny how she hadn't realized how much she needed the comfort and reassurance until she had offered it first. Jyn needed a moment to clear her head, so for a moment, she didn't respond to the question at hand.
Instead, she tried to catch the breath that had been stolen from her and steady the erratic beating of her heart, and try to appear as though she wasn't nearly as affected by the touch as she was.
She was fine. This was nothing. Certainly not anything to give any thought at later. Certainly not something to wonder about in terms of when rescue arrived, not if, because he certainly hadn't meant with him as in with him and she was ...
...
Kriff, she was being utterly ridiculous.
"Ah - ", she eventually offered, shrugging gently. "I don't know. I haven't seen my father in years and at this point, I don't know if either of us want to see each other. I guess I'd just have to ... find a place to belong."
no subject
Hadn't he thought, a game of dejarik ago, he should wait at least a day before suggesting anything like—?
"If you wanted it," he said softly, "my people can always find a place for someone with your skills. You could give us a test drive. We could still drop you off somewhere else later, if you decided you didn't like us."
(And what "people" was Ord Mantell deepdock liaison Gabrael Willix supposed to have? It was a risk. It wasn't too late for her to change her mind and turn him in, on discovering he might be someone of Imperial interest after all. Like, y'know, a Rebel.)
no subject
She was silent as she listened to Gabrael's offer, and took her time in pondering it. Jyn Erso was not a particularly naive woman, and knew that there was an underlying layer to it - and that it probably mean that he was affiliated with the Rebels if not an outright part of them.
But -
"My nursing skills?", she gently teased. "Do you get into enough trouble to warrant keeping me around?"
All teasing aside, after another quiet moment, she spoke up again. "You think your people would accept someone like me?"
no subject
To the real question: "Yes." Dare he say we welcome defectors just yet? That would really shout 'Rebels'.
Possibly to deflect a little—more possibly not—his thumb moved slightly on her skin. And he said a little more quietly, "And I'd vouch for you."
no subject
"You'd be taking a a big chance - ", she murmured, breathing slightly erratic. "You don't even know me."
Nothing but trouble. A thorn in the higher ups' sides. Not worth taking that chance on.
"You sure you want to do that?"
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But the answer was still: "Yeah. I do."
A belated grasp at rationality. "Don't have to decide right now. …I mean. Gonna be a while before I go anywhere."
no subject
Despite all of that, he still wanted to vouch for her - ? And maybe she shouldn't overlook the gift that he was offering her, the chance to get away and start anew and maybe ...
>Maybe he'd be there when she did, maybe she wouldn't find herself lost and lonely without a friendly face to turn to ...
"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it, yeah?"
no subject
His hurting head was beginning to swim again, but he still smiled.
He closed his eyes for a second to refocus his eyes, and wasn't sure how much time had passed when he opened them again. He had a feeling it had been longer than a blink.
"I guess I might be falling asleep," he murmured apologetically.
no subject
Warm, but not burning up. That seemed as good a sign as any.
Jyn wasn't expecting Gabrael to open his eyes again, but he did, and her soft little smile slowly returned.
"Guess you probably need the rest. I should go, let you sleep."
Even though she didn't move a muscle in order to do so.
no subject
He managed not to say it aloud.
—He was about 79-percent sure he'd managed not to say it aloud.
Anyway, what would he be asking? Definitely not Stay sitting there uncomfortably watching me sleep. And anything else…
Something he'd never been able to afford even if it wasn't way too presumptuous, way too soon, with someone way too unfamiliar…
What if she said 'yes'?
Or is that just preemptive defense against 'what if she said no?'
"Will I see you tomorrow?" he murmured at last.
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She almost wanted to cringe, it was such a ridiculous thing to want, much less ask for. They were strangers. He was only tolerating her because she hadn't turned him over to the authorities. That was it, that was all. And once she outlived her usefulness, they would part and never see each other again.
It was the way these things worked.
But she bit back the urge to ask if he wanted her to stay (I just want to make sure that you make it through the night) and sighed instead, nodding her head gently in response to his question.
"Of course. I have to come check on you, bring you something to eat."
And then, for his own personal knowledge -
"I also inputted my personal holo-mail address into the pad. So … if you need anything, you can always let me know rather than waiting for when I'm able to get away."
no subject
He tried to pour some of that awareness, appreciation, floored-ness, into the way he said, "Thank you.
"Is there… a kind of username I should make, that blends in, or a way to sign off that works best…?"
no subject
But if they continued to be careful ... maybe he would be able to make that escape once he was physically able.
And maybe Jyn would finally manage to extricate herself from the grasp of the Empire and all the abhorrent things they wanted her to continue doing.
"Already set up - all you have to do is open the mail application. I mirrored an address from Requisitions so it won't look suspicious. I do have an acquaintance from there, so if you do send a message, end it with something like 'I'll see you at breakfast' or 'when do you think you'll return that holonovel I loaned you'. Something congenial and innocuous."
no subject
He'd never stop thanking her (he hoped), but he also knew not to overdo it verbally.
Instead, tentatively, he reached out again to touch her hand. "…Have a good night."
no subject
Still, she didn't regret what she had done.
She didn't flinch away from the touch, and wished -
"Rest well", she finally offered, her voice thick as she finally found enough determination to get to her feet. "I'll see you tomorrow."
And with that, she took her leave ... before she lost the determination and decided to stay.
no subject
Then at last he closed them, letting his head fall back, and his lips part to drag in deeper breaths.
…And stopped judging himself for it… how ludicrous, how strange, why here and now when he'd gotten so good at never allowing it elsewhere and elsewhen, why her, what the hell…
and just, in the safety of his own mind, allowed it.
Allowed imagining the feel of her in his arms, until the comfort of the fantasy let him fall into sleep.
no subject
Would it show how weak she truly was if she did? If she admitted that she wanted to be close, share comfort with each other? She felt weak, in any case. He was still a stranger and she was far more accustomed to being alone, even on a base full of people.
Ridiculous, the wanting.
She kept to the shadows until she was back in her quarters, where she stood underneath the spray of her shower until she could stand it no longer, and then collapsed into her bunk, alone.
She would sleep, but she wasn't sure she would find any rest. At least he could send a message to her datapad if he needed anything. The best thing she could do was prepare for the day ahead - her work, of course, but also procuring more items to assure Gabrael's continued survival.
no subject
That was progress. He drank all the water Jyn had left him and tried experimentally to stand and stretch. Just a little, very carefully, cataloging every part of his body. Not great, but better.
He also finally had the wherewithal to look around. He didn't search the place. …Much. Not to any strenuous extent. Not prying open resisting crates or even straying far from the cot. It wasn't so urgent; he wasn't a prisoner. He didn't need to look for weapons or tools or prepare tricks. Nonetheless—lulled as he was tempted to be in trusting Jyn, one should have contingencies. If she turned out to be deceiving him, or stopped showing up, because she'd been transferred, or thought she was being watched, or got caught—
He found himself hoping that, if it had to end badly, it would be her deceiving him. Bad for him, but preferable to her getting caught or imprisoned or killed—
These were strange, strange thoughts. He shouldn't give them any more focus.
Sitting back down, he picked up the datapad. He avoided any activity that would raise a flag for Imperial monitors. He just caught up on some general Galactic news. Infuriating as it was through Imperial filters. He knew their spin codes well enough to be able to interpret their reporting.
He thought about messaging Jyn. Just to confirm the line was open. He decided against it.
After a while, he set the datapad on some droning analysis of which minerals made the best droid parts. (—something that interested him that wouldn't be completely skewed, on Imperial channels; unlike news or history or language or culture—) And he tried to get back to the sleep. Sleep helped the body heal. The more of it, the quicker recovery.
He wasn't sure if he succeeded. He zoned in and out of the narration, but when the finally gave up and sat upright, he didn't feel much more rested.
He was, on the other hand, more concerned. Jyn had usually looked in by now.
He picked up the datapad again. Considered. And, this time, decided in favor.
no subject
She had to resist the urge to check her messages every few minutes even though if he did send a message, she would receive the notification. Strange, how deep the need to ensure his condition ran, but it was there as the minutes ticked by longer than they ever had before.
She had never had reason to trust anyone as much as she trusted Gabrael. And that was a mistake in and of itself, wasn't it? She didn't know him. What if this was some sort of complicated and convoluted ruse to catch her betrayinig the Empire, to finally have concrete reason for punishment much, much worse than another demotion?
The logical part of her brain insisted that no one in their right mind would willingly put themselves in harm's way - and he was very badly injured - just for the sake of sussing out personnel who were a little less than loyal. Anybody else would've turned him over to the proper authorities, but maybe Jyn wasn't just like everybody else.
Just as she was about to leave and begin the arduous task of procuring more supplies, Jyn was summoned to Requisitions, where she was tasked with assisting with some light (ie: hours long) boring, mundane inventory.
Thankfully, after all the wondering and worrying she did as she worked, when the message came in, she felt like she could breathe a sigh of relief. He was fine - as fine as he was going to be, given the circumstances, and he was checking up on her.
The response was returned quickly.
sorry for lateness. recruited to do inventory. will be available for discussion and a bite soon.
But first, the gathering of supplies that would see him safely through another night on base. Food, drinks, med supplies. It ended up being another nearly two hours before once more, she slipped into the storage room that housed her patient.
Her ... friend?
no subject
Cassian, having given up on pushing himself and lain back down, automatically tensed. Even though, if it were anyone but Jyn, there was no available action that could help him.
no subject
But for now - "It's just me", spoken softly, just loud enough for him to hear was going to have to do.
Her footsteps were quick and quiet as she made her way from the entrance to the back corner, where she hoped she'd find him tucked away as safely as possible - and hopefully doing a little better than he'd been the day before.
no subject
"You made it," he said, as if in the light idiomatic way, but also in real gratitude. He wouldn't take for granted how much she was risking every time she decided to come back.
no subject
She just had to continue to count her lucky stars that they hadn't been caught yet, that there was still a chance that rescue could happen, that she could make her escape, too. It was the hope that kept her going day after day now, when she hadn't really had any before.
"Just like I promised", she replied, stripping her bag off and setting it down before she settled into her customary spot near the pallet. "Well? Any better today?"