Chapter Text
It was an exhausted Cassian Andor that made his way down the winding corridors of the frozen rebel base on Hoth. He could hear the wiring of machines and the clattering of metal as construction crews continued trying to make the base as habitable as possible. In the nearly two years of building they had made significant progress amid the frozen tundra, but Cassian doubted if even a fully functioning base could fight of the bone deep chill of the temperatures that clawed against a person just on the other side of the walls.
But they made it work.
That’s what they had to do, it’s what they always had to do.
He felt his weariness grip his body. He’d been gone for 3 weeks chasing supplies that the rebellion was near desperate for. Supply runs lacked the finesse that Intelligence required of him, but after Scarif…after Scarif he’d known he was done with the dark underbelly of the rebellion. Draven had ranted and raved and even threatened, but Cassian had stood firm, and the truth was no one really knew what to do with the Rogue One crew. Heroes, rebels, people, broken. It was an odd mix, but Mon Mothma had merely nodded her ascent to his request to transfer out of Intelligence and that had been the end of it.
The last few years he had felt more alive, more connected to each breath, each heartbeat. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss any part of Intelligence. It had been his way of life for so long, but after Scarif—
After Jyn—
That was how he saw his life now; life before Jyn and life after Jyn.
Life before Jyn was a sea of pale, lifeless faces all staring back at him with accusing eyes.
He’d been damned for his choices, his relenting of control, allowing the rebellion to use him as their personal weapon. It had been his choice though, one he struggled to reconcile. He’d placated himself with thoughts of the ‘greater good,’ and knew sacrifice was how the war was won. It was why he’d been so ready to die on Scarif.
He knew the price.
But still he saw their faces.
His stomach growled.
He’d not eaten since the night before, landing early this morning and immediately setting to get his goods unloaded and then reporting to the higher ups about the mission. It was getting harder and harder to find places that would trade with him. The Empire had taken a crippling blow with the destruction of the Death Star, but their presence in the galaxy had only grown more vicious in the face the loss. Retaliation for the Death Star had been swift and unforgiving. The rebel cause had lost a great deal of support in the face of such vengeance.
He finally found himself in front of the quarters he shared with Jyn, hoping to find her within. He hadn’t been surprised when she wasn’t there this morning. He hadn’t been able to communicate his arrival—all communication was kept to a minimum for the protection of the base—but he had been surprised when he’d not found her waiting for him outside of his debrief. He’d assumed word would have gotten around.
Jyn was a hard but fair drill sergeant, despite her often unusual training tactics. “Saw wasn’t the most conventional parent, but he gave me what I needed to survive,” she’d defended herself. “That’s what I’m giving to these recruits.” It helped that the soldiers under her tutelage were considered to be among the best and the brightest. She was a devoted teacher but she had no compunction dismissing class in order to welcome him home from one of his long expeditions. “What’s the use in being the one in charge if you can’t exploit it every once in a while,” she’d told him, waving off his concern.
He pressed the code to enter the room and stepped in, faltering when he saw a lump under the piles of blanket on the bunk, Jyn, clearly fast asleep.
For a woman who barely slept at night he felt a wave of concern flood him.
“Jyn?” he whispered as he crouched down beside the bed, the leather of his boots creaky in protest. She didn’t stir, however, prompting him to call out again softly, but with a bit more urgency.
She grunted unhappily before finally rolling over and looking up at him.
She frowned, blinked, then smiled.
“You’re home,” she croaked, her voice heavy with sleep.
He smiled. “I’m home.”
She reached out and grabbed his gloved hand, giving it a squeeze.
Cassian leaned forward, pressing a kiss against her lips.
She blinked at him sleepily.
“Are you sick?” he asked.
“Hmm?”
“You’re in bed in the middle of the day. Are you sick?”
Jyn shook her head, a deep sigh escaping. “Just tired.”
He frowned, which Jyn mirrored before reaching out and pressing her fingers against his brow, gently smoothing the skin.
“You look tired,” she observed quietly. “Go get cleaned up. We have the rest of the day?”
He nodded, rocking back on his haunches before pushing himself into a standing position, looking down at her. “I’ve already reported in.”
Her skin was pale, though her cheeks were held some color from sleep, and there were gray smudges beneath her eyes. She looked as tired as he felt.
“I’ll just be a minute,” he promised as he stripped off his heavy coat and travel worn clothes, shivering at the cool air in the room before jumping into the refresher.
Being surrounded by snow and ice meant water wasn’t hard to come by but it took a great deal of energy to heat so Cassian didn’t waste time. He was in and out within minutes, scrambling to pull on something clean and warm.
A glance at Jyn confirmed she’d fallen back asleep.
He eyed the bed.
It wasn’t quite the welcoming he’d expected, but as he slid under the layers of blankets, curling his body around hers, the familiar smell and feel of her permeating his senses, his eyes began closing, and he supposed it was as good a welcome as his tired body needed.