realists | open ✧ the time to fight is now

He makes a valid point, she supposes, but then again, he's never been swimming on Lah'mu where the water is so thick with salt and minerals you practically float. Maybe she should have told him about it before but that would involve talking and she hasn't felt capable of that.

"The water here is..." She doesn't know the word to describe the feeling of floating freely and without effort. She doesn't bother trying, maybe there isn't a word for it. "I won't let you drown."

Without waiting for an answer, Jyn kicks forward, slicing through the water with ease, closing her eyes against the salt and the sting of her shoulder. She ignores the pain, feeling weak whenever she gives into it -- Cassian's injuries and pain were so much greater than her bruises. It doesn't matter that it's not a comparison that should be made, she cares more about him than she does about herself.

Even if it's silent.

She stands when her kicks brush sand, pushing her hair back from her face and pulling her self dripping from the water, waves licking at her ankles as she lingers in the gentle surf. "I promise."

Just from watching her, he can recognize there's something about the water that doesn't make it quite so crystalline, confirmed when she trails off mid sentence. It's not dangerous, or she would not have invited him in.

As she swims closer, he would never call her graceful - the idea is laughable - but there is an ease at which she moves herself through the water that he might like to find in himself again.

He smiles, faintly. "I believe you," he says, not for the first time. Cassian can't pinpoint when he started to believe in her, but he can't say he regrets it either. He kicks his shoes off, the sand cool on his toes. He already knows he'll step into the shallows at the very least, but it may take some effort to climb to his feet, so he just settles for watching her a little more first. He would much prefer this image of her standing at the water under the moon to be seared in his mind instead of her face halo'd by a burning planet. "Is it cold? I don't think you can stop me from freezing too."

It's teasing. Mostly.

"I was born on an ice planet, I might be biased." As if she had lived there long enough to acclimate to the conditions. She is still, technically, Vallti.

Stepping out of the surf, she strides over to him with the same almost stubborn purpose that she does everything. Looming over him, tall for once, she twists her hair around her hand so it drips down her arm and splashes across him. It's not cold at all and her mouth twitches with a ghost of a smile.

"There's underwater volcanoes off the coast," she tells him as if an explanation. So now he has no excuse to not join her aside from her being terrible company as of late (and always, if she's honest) and she reaches down, fingers wiggling in invitation to help him to his feet. Part of her thinks he may change his mind, that her inability to act like a human being will have made Cassian want to wash his hands of her.

But.

Maybe he won't.

It suits her, for some reason. "Which one? I suppose I could call Fest my home planet, but I barely remember it."

Cassian doesn't look anything except vaguely amused when she looms over him, and he doesn't laugh when she splashes him, but it's a close thing. It makes him feel younger - or maybe just his actual age. That in turn makes him feel guilty somehow, like there's more he should be doing for the galaxy than letting Jyn flick water at him.

"I'll have to judge it for myself in that case," he says, shoving those thoughts aside, and he reaches up easily to take her hand like there wasn't any other options to follow. He winds his fingers between hers to get a good grip and uses her support to pull himself up. His mouth goes briefly tight from the pinch of pain that shoots through his leg, but it's normal enough to not cause any real issue, save for the few seconds his grip tightens as he braces himself to regain his balance. A small mercy: lake sand is so much better than desert sand. Easier to stand on.

She doesn't let go, easily supporting him. She flashes back to the beach, has to close her eyes against the memory of struggling down that sand, a sudden stiffness in her shoulders that she tries to ignore in favor of the water. If she can get to the water then she'll be fine. That makes sense in some small part of her brain that ignores logic as a whole.

Trying to pretend she's fine, because Jyn wear denial like a perfume, she focuses on the banality of their ice planet discussion. "Vallt. My father was in prison there." She was effectively born in captivity, a prison without bars. Her jaw sets. This isn't helping. It's almost like she forgot her entire life was one tragedy after another and that all her memories are tied into pain. "I don't remember it. Krennic brought us to Coruscant when I was six months old."

Krennic. Her stomach churns and she puffs out a short breath. "Come on."

It's a long buried instinct to squeeze her hand, not out of need for balance, but in a kind of comfort. He's always assumed he was bad at comfort, because emotions were second to the rebellion and it was clearly better to put them away when in the moment (see: and then continue to ignore them). Maybe that's why Jyn's own emotional lock felt familiar.

She's still in it, is the problem, when he's been trying to chip away at his own since he met her. Cassian pulls on her hand, tugging them towards the water. There's a part of him that thinks it might be good to talk through all these things, but now does not feel like the time. Save that childhood trauma for another day!

Which defeats the point of getting rid of that whole Emotional Lock, but Cassian never claimed he completely broke it yet. "Coruscant can be such a nightmare to navigate. At least you didn't take up permanent residence."

A beat. "We don't need to remember where we were born. It's not as important as where we end up."

Her eyes are sad when she looks up at him, apology written all over her solemn mouth. "Where will we end up?"

It could have been some place different, She could have chosen some different planet. They could be dead. They should be, by all accounts, and she's stuck on that. And none of that is what she is asking Cassian. She doesn't mean physically, her curiosity and apprehension are tied up in the fact that the statement started with 'we'.

Which is not something she is used to.

Her feet touch the surf again and she releases a breath.

Cassian squeezes her hand again, but this time it's as much for himself as it is her. He doesn't answer right away, because he hears everything else in her question beyond the surface level and it's not an easy question to answer, especially when he doesn't know what may have her running off again.

The water breaks over his feet, and it's like it breaks some of the tension lining up his back with it. He isn't used to the 'we' either, and it is both a terrifying and hopeful feeling. He is guilty of turning on someone when it no longer suited him, suited a mission, but there is nothing, he thinks, that could get him to turn on Jyn anymore.

"Wherever we want."

It's such a novel thing, to want something. The rebellion doesn't deal well in wants, only needs, and they should be dead several times over. But they aren't. That has to be worth something.

"We could go in a little further, to start." It's an easy reference to the water, but - it's more than that, too.

"Your clothes are going to get all wet." As if she isn't wearing clothes; she's had time to perfect her swimming attire and it's a lot less clothes than she usually wears, thin enough not to weigh her down. She should have thought of that before she invited Cassian to join her but foresight is not her particular skill.

And then, releasing him abruptly and turning to face him, "What if what we want and what we deserve aren't the same thing?"

Honestly, his clothes don't matter. Jyn has no one else left in the world, in any world, she'd lost everything and she can't help thinking it's for a reason. Cassian can still leave, they're not the only two people on the incredibly untouched planet, he could pack up and leave and she wouldn't blame him. It was part of why she'd shut down; trying to mitigate the pain before it even struck. The epitome of self-sabotage.

Even standing in arm's reach, hand still warm from his grip, the everpresent fear of abandonment remains.

"I'm not..." Good, worth it, something. Whatever it is remains a mystery.

"I have other clothes." But, listen, she drew attention to it, so for a fraction of a second his eyes drop. He suddenly feels very overdressed and very aware of her, in a way he wasn't two seconds ago.

She turns towards him and it's the most direct she's been since Scarif, both physically and with her words. It's important. He doesn't want to let it slip away.

Cassian reaches out and runs his thumb along the back of her hand, taking a small step closer. He's been afraid too many times in his life to count, but he always fights it off by pushing passed it. Pretending it's not there. Killing the other person. It's not quite so life and death here in this moment, but it's big anyway. She wants - this. Just like he does. He saw it in the elevator and he sees it now.

"You are not anyone except Jyn, and that's all I care about. There is no goodness or badness. We have both done things we are not proud of. You are not the only one with guilt and blood all over your shoulders. If I wanted to leave, I would be gone already."

He closes his eyes and breathes in the smell of the water, of the air and proof he is alive. "We probably deserved to die on Scarif, but if this is a second chance, I want to take it. You aren't being a martyr here by hiding away. Leave that part of you to the galaxy, not me."

Edited 2017-01-10 05:20 (UTC)

It's everything she needed to hear, practically a rousing speech urging her to get the shit kicked out of her by love. And still everything he says is met with a mental retort, all of them remaining blissfully unspoken when he says it's a second chance he wants to take. It's honestly more likely their third or fourth chance, but the sentiment is the same.

Instead of fighting, her first and finest defence mechanism, she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. He doesn't want to leave, for some ridiculous reason he wants her. She hears her mother's voice, an echo that seems to ripple right across the shore, and her eyes open, bright and sure.

"Okay."

Cassian blinks, completely caught off guard by her response. He was so ready for a fight, because fighting with Jyn is par for the course, whether it was serious or meaningless ribbing. He lets out a laugh, quietly delighted, and pulls her hand entirely into his.

"That's it? That's all I had to do? I had another whole part stolen from your seize every next chance speech."

He steps in again, closing more of the space between them. She said okay, and she's looking at him like he's worth something insurmountable, but it's still an odd sensation to be looked at that way. He reaches for her other hand, but his touch his light on her fingertips, like he's waiting for her to cement the hold - and he is.

He laughs and Jyn suddenly believes in the Force. What wouldn't she give to hear that sound again? Laughter hadn't been a huge part of her life, even as a child she was more withdrawn than extroverted, preferring the company of her parents' work and her toys and drawing pad. Once in Saw's care... laughter was even less prevalent.

Her heart stings remembering Chirrut laughing at her promotion to Sergeant.

"I take it back." He had a speech prepared, it seems and she isn't going to keep him from giving her the full force of it. Even if feelings and emotions make her feel ill. Her hand twists, pale fingers catching his in a tight grip, taking her own little step forward on her tip toes as if stubbornly trying to keep some height in the sinking sand. "I'm sorry, you'll need to sway me."

His smile widens at her petulance, even as she takes his hand and moves in towards him. They always seemed to lean it and orbit each other, and why should that ever change? Closer and closer and it sends off warning bells in his head, but then again, Jyn always did that anyway.

"Too late. 'Okay' is a binding statement when it comes from your mouth."

Very binding. Agreement in any form via Jyn Erso should never be taken lightly and should probably also get notarized.

Cassian tugs at her, erasing that last bit of distance and pulling her into a hug. They've done that part before. "I hope we don't need too many chances. Just take one with me now."

She wonders if there will ever be a time where she doesn't feel like the world is trying to rend itself apart when Cassian's arms are around her. She wonders, also, when the feeling turned from terror to contentment. She hadn't truly been scared when the shockwave came rushing at them, there was something freeing about it. If the end did come, at least she wasn't alone.

And that scares her more than anything else.

But she falls into his embrace with an ease that borders on eager. She'd be ashamed of it if she thought too hard about it. Luckily Cassian saves her from those thoughts with the rest of his speech. When did she become so soft that that could sway her?

"What if I fail?" Not Cassian, she doesn't think he's capable of it. But oh, Jyn has every faith in her own ability to be terrible at anything and everything that isn't the life she'd made for herself. Considering she'd been about to spend the next twenty years of her life in prison -- if Kennel hadn't killed her like she'd promised -- it was a particularly good life, but she understood it, it made sense, she made sense.

Nothing makes sense anymore.

It's something of a relief when she returns the hug without a trace of reluctance, and he finds himself matching the almost eagerness. It's better than last time, because he doesn't want any hug to feel like the last one he'll ever have, especially with Jyn. That's part of what it was on Scarif, a scared and desperate moment where he wasn't going to be alone when he died.

And then he didn't die. But it didn't make any of those feelings go away; that want to be with Jyn was exacerbated by the sky exploding, but it's still there when the sky is calm and full of stars instead.

"What if you don't?" He tightens his grip around her, just a little, like he's afraid she's going to run again. "Stop looking for the reasons to fail. I want to let myself be happy with you, and it terrifies me too. But we both have to try." He pauses, then with a little self-deprecation: "I'm pretty sure that's how this is supposed to work."

His life has always been the Rebellion, and he hates not being in control. Jyn doesn't fit into either box. Everything about this is strange and new and scary, but maybe he's trying to remember that it's not only rebellions that can make use of hope.

"I haven't even seen a functioning relationship since I was six." She doesn't have the best examples to use on how to be a good partner, basically. She's been alone since the same age, Saw didn't exactly promote inter-rebellion dating and Jyn wasn't interested in it. She's still not interested in it -- Cassian is... an anomaly.

"I don't know--" She wriggles a little in his arms to lift her chin, resting it against his chest and looking up at him. She hates admitting weakness, but it's not like it isn't abundantly clear that she's in so over her head she feels like drowning. "I'm going to be terrible at this."

It's not a reason to fail, it's a request for patience. In Jyn's way.

"Do you think my experience is any better?" It's not an unkind question, just commiseration. His parents have been dead over two decades. "The Rebellion doesn't tend to lend itself to relationships. It doesn't stop them, but there are few role models. It never felt as important as the cause for most."

Except Bail, probably. He and Breha have got that shit down.

He smiles though, softly, when she looks up at him, and he feels like he's on top of the world that she can be so comfortable with him. People never trust him this much and this openly.

"Let's make a deal. We tell each other when something is so terrible. I know how to pretend to do this, but the real thing is not something I want to ruin with you."

He can be patient, if she can do the same for him.

There are a lot of things Jyn could take from this. She takes none of the truly relevant facts to heart.

"You pretended to be married?" Not that that is what they are attempting, but it's not the point. The point is that however... not sheltered, but Jyn's had a lonely life. Regardless of that, she still feels a trill of jealousy making her feel warm and fighty.

With whom did he have this pretense with is the real question, followed by can Jyn punch him or her?

That seems to be an understood, at least, because she doesn't ask.

If record scratches were a thing in a galaxy far far away, he'd hear one right now. Instead he just blinks a few times, before letting out a laugh.

Jyn is jealous and it's simultaneously hilarious and charming. He suspects the follow up questions, which really only adds to how amused he is by her entire reaction. "I'm an intelligence officer, Jyn. We pretend to be people we are not to get information all the time."

He's still smiling. It's nice to smile.

"Only once, as one half of a married couple. But I have pretended a relationship where there wasn't a real one a handful of times. You do realize I used the word pretend, right? You don't have to fight anyone for my honor."

Edited 2017-01-20 03:39 (UTC)

"I don't want to fight for your honor." She makes a face, half offended, half embarrassed, all scrunchy faced affront as she hurries to brush it off as just casual wondering.

It's a struggle to make it seem like she's not running away when she steps out of his arms, but her hands fall to catch his to lead him further out into the water. Which was the whole point before she got distracted by being scared about ruining their tentative thing and how good he smells. (Did he pack cologne? She doesn't understand it.)

"I'm just curious. I don't know very much about you, do I?" You lying piece of shit, just curious. Bullshit.

Edited 2017-01-20 04:01 (UTC)

She continues to be almost adorable about it - even though adorable is never a word he would apply to Jyn. It's more like a new side of her he finds amusing.

Cassian doesn't fight her when she starts moving out into the water, though he does miss having her so close.

BULLSHIT SENSES TINGLING. He humors her anyway. "You already know a lot more than most," he says, squeezing her hands. "But the fake marriage was to a woman named Latia. She was an excellent agent." Note the use of 'was'. He makes a thoughtful noise. "There were a few occasions where showing up with a partner was less suspicious. It didn't usually last longer than a week. They were not my favorite missions."

Cassian your need to work alone is showing.

She notes the past tense, still find herself irrationally jealous as Cassian talks and she leads them deeper and deeper into the water. Her lips purse slightly, thoughtful, until a wave breaks across her thighs and she jumps a little, returning her focus on the task at hand.

"I don't work well in groups," she offers. As if Cassian was unaware of this fact. As if the entire galaxy is unaware of this. "I didn't when I was a little girl either." A small smile touches her lips, almost nostalgic. "I remember there was this playground on Coruscant, near our apartment or my father's work... I'm not sure. My mother had to tell me to take turns every other breath."

She can practically still hear her mother calling and no pushing! after her as she ran around like a tiny whirling dervish. "I was feisty."

The water's only a little above his knees, so it doesn't feel like they're in very deep yet. It's a strange support on his leg, one half sturdy and one half uncertain, because water is unpredictable.

Cassian makes a (sarcastic) shocked face when she says she doesn't work well in groups, but he's fascinated despite himself by the brief dip into her childhood. He can picture her behaving exactly as she says.

"None of that surprises me. Though I would say that you're still feisty, only it manifests in far different impulsive ways now." He pauses, trying to think of a comparable story but: "I mostly just remember being angry, all the time. I used to throw rocks at Clone Troopers."

Cassian that is not a heartwarming childhood story to match. At least he doesn't sound bitter, just his own version of semi-nostalgic matter of fact.

Rare as the necklace still hung around her neck, Jyn smiles at the story, however brief. Maybe she's pleased with the commiseration of a childhood full of anger. Sure, she hasn't grown out of that, yet, but she's softening with time.

She's a lot like her father, but she wants to fight everything, all the time, like her mother.

"I imagine you were quite the menace." Jyn doesn't remember the Clone Wars, too young, but she half remembers a story from her childhood, a bedtime tale that made her mother frown at her father's retelling. Or maybe that was a dream. She can't tell the difference anymore.

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