![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
One year. Cassian only realizes the date as he's going through a pile of papers that he and Jyn have allowed to accumulate. Most of it is junk mail, envelopes tossed on the table without a second glance, but he wants to go through them just in case. Somewhere in the middle of the pile, he finds a piece of fundraiser mail from City Hall. As he tosses the solicitation for a "generous gift" into the trash pile, he thinks that he can't have actually been inside City Hall since...
Since a year ago.
He's so startled that he has to check their marriage certificate against the calendar on his phone, twice, but there it is. April the fifteenth. The day that he and Jyn got married.
Even knowing that Jyn isn't likely expecting anything and probably hasn't remembered the specific date any better than he had, Cassian still resolves to do something special. Cooking her dinner is the first thing to come to mind but he's pressed with the desire to do more than that. Jyn may love his cooking but he cooks for her so often that even something out of his normal rotation of dishes doesn't feel special enough. Which is how he ends up at the garden store and subsequently riding the bus with a potted apple sapling in his arms and a grocery bag hanging off his wrist. He accidentally whacks the bus driver with a branch and earns a dirty look but Cassian doesn't care.
Mostly for the humor of it, when he gets home, he ties a ribbon around the trunk of the tree. Then he goes into the kitchen and looks up a marinade for steaks on his phone and contemplating what dish to accompany them.
Since a year ago.
He's so startled that he has to check their marriage certificate against the calendar on his phone, twice, but there it is. April the fifteenth. The day that he and Jyn got married.
Even knowing that Jyn isn't likely expecting anything and probably hasn't remembered the specific date any better than he had, Cassian still resolves to do something special. Cooking her dinner is the first thing to come to mind but he's pressed with the desire to do more than that. Jyn may love his cooking but he cooks for her so often that even something out of his normal rotation of dishes doesn't feel special enough. Which is how he ends up at the garden store and subsequently riding the bus with a potted apple sapling in his arms and a grocery bag hanging off his wrist. He accidentally whacks the bus driver with a branch and earns a dirty look but Cassian doesn't care.
Mostly for the humor of it, when he gets home, he ties a ribbon around the trunk of the tree. Then he goes into the kitchen and looks up a marinade for steaks on his phone and contemplating what dish to accompany them.
Cassian sends the text to Jyn before he can tell himself it's silly. It's completely unprompted, except for the fact that he's walking in the area and a new kitten in the window catches his attention. Though he remembers this place, Cassian doesn't think he's gone to the cat café since the time he was there with Jyn, something like a year ago now. He tries to think about how much has changed and it's still so hard to believe how little time has passed, relatively, but how much time it is for them.
It's why he sends her a quick, excited text, asking if she wants to join him for a date because he realizes that for all the time they spend together, they don't necessarily go out. Certainly, they've never referred to anything as a date even when it basically qualifies.
Feeling oddly light, as if they're not married, as if this is something impossible and new, Cassian goes inside and orders coffee and pastries and waits for his wife to join him on their first date.
It's why he sends her a quick, excited text, asking if she wants to join him for a date because he realizes that for all the time they spend together, they don't necessarily go out. Certainly, they've never referred to anything as a date even when it basically qualifies.
Feeling oddly light, as if they're not married, as if this is something impossible and new, Cassian goes inside and orders coffee and pastries and waits for his wife to join him on their first date.
Although Barton University has a reduced schedule during the summer, there are still plenty of shifts for Cassian to pick up. There are students visiting for orientation, summer classes, and always plenty of fraternities and sororities to make security a necessity. Technically, the latter aren't his jurisdiction since Greek houses aren't campus property but that doesn't stop people from calling the security office with noise complaints.
It's one such complaint that has him heading out now, at the end of his shift. Cassian can't do anything except knock on the door and tell whichever drunken fool who comes to the door to turn it down, much less break up the fight he encounters in the house's driveway.
There are two men going at it and a woman shouting at them to knock it out and Cassian's about to decide whether or not he wants to intervene anyway when the sorority sister loses her patience. The woman lets out an unholy roar and piledrives one of the men, telling him to quit it. A minute of grappling and they finally realize they're being kicked around by someone half their size and twice as angry, all while a representative of campus security stares them down. A hush falls over them all.
"Noise complaint," he says flatly. Cassian checks his watch. He's officially off the clock. Annoyed and tired, he starts to walk back to campus so he can head home.
It's one such complaint that has him heading out now, at the end of his shift. Cassian can't do anything except knock on the door and tell whichever drunken fool who comes to the door to turn it down, much less break up the fight he encounters in the house's driveway.
There are two men going at it and a woman shouting at them to knock it out and Cassian's about to decide whether or not he wants to intervene anyway when the sorority sister loses her patience. The woman lets out an unholy roar and piledrives one of the men, telling him to quit it. A minute of grappling and they finally realize they're being kicked around by someone half their size and twice as angry, all while a representative of campus security stares them down. A hush falls over them all.
"Noise complaint," he says flatly. Cassian checks his watch. He's officially off the clock. Annoyed and tired, he starts to walk back to campus so he can head home.
And our lives are forever changed [Padme]
May. 29th, 2018 12:02 amIt's been six weeks now, almost, and they still haven't told many people. It's the thought that crosses his mind more and more whenever Cassian winds up in places where he might run into someone he knows. The grocery store is pretty quiet at this time of evening and Cassian's security shift is quiet now that Barton is on a summer schedule. It all gives him too much time to think.
He and Jyn don't want a party, don't want any fuss, but they'd never intended to keep their marriage secret either. Except that it's now a little odd to just announce to a person that he's eloped.
Cassian tries to distract his thoughts by focusing on what he's going to bring home for dinner but as he looks up, he spots a familiar face and all of the questions pop up again.
He definitely shouldn't be hiding something like a marriage from Senator Amidala.
"Hello," he says, nodding toward her.
He and Jyn don't want a party, don't want any fuss, but they'd never intended to keep their marriage secret either. Except that it's now a little odd to just announce to a person that he's eloped.
Cassian tries to distract his thoughts by focusing on what he's going to bring home for dinner but as he looks up, he spots a familiar face and all of the questions pop up again.
He definitely shouldn't be hiding something like a marriage from Senator Amidala.
"Hello," he says, nodding toward her.
The idea's been gnawing at him since the first night, what he now thinks of the first blow. After two days, Bodhi's absence hadn't become bearable but Cassian has recovered that numb distance in himself that lets him put a box around things that would otherwise break him. After calling off work one day, he knows he can't do another. He's distracted but there's very little he needs to do at work. A few students forget their keys and need to be let back into their dorms and they're all too distressed (freshmen) to notice how wooden his behavior is.
He's looking forward to lunch with Hernando, longing for that breath of steady, friendly logic.
The phone says Hernando's number is disconnected. Cassian starts inventing excuses, calls Lito. Disconnected. By now, he can feel that hot flare of numbness in his chest, the kind that spreads through his body like anesthetic to keep him from crumbling in the middle of battle. Except there's no enemy, no stormtroopers.
He calls Jyn.
Cassian doesn't remember what he says but two racing thoughts compete in his head. First, that he has to hear Jyn's voice. Second, that she will want to know. He thinks he manages to get through both of those objectives before he hangs up, says he'll be home soon, and tells his boss that he has to go. He hates that he must sound truly shaken for her to let him have the rest of the day off.
He doesn't go straight home. He goes to the jewelry store and buys a ring to take home to Jyn.
There is nothing permanent in this city. It's too cruel. If he wants to make something last, he's going to have to do it himself.
He's looking forward to lunch with Hernando, longing for that breath of steady, friendly logic.
The phone says Hernando's number is disconnected. Cassian starts inventing excuses, calls Lito. Disconnected. By now, he can feel that hot flare of numbness in his chest, the kind that spreads through his body like anesthetic to keep him from crumbling in the middle of battle. Except there's no enemy, no stormtroopers.
He calls Jyn.
Cassian doesn't remember what he says but two racing thoughts compete in his head. First, that he has to hear Jyn's voice. Second, that she will want to know. He thinks he manages to get through both of those objectives before he hangs up, says he'll be home soon, and tells his boss that he has to go. He hates that he must sound truly shaken for her to let him have the rest of the day off.
He doesn't go straight home. He goes to the jewelry store and buys a ring to take home to Jyn.
There is nothing permanent in this city. It's too cruel. If he wants to make something last, he's going to have to do it himself.
En esta canción, va mi corazón
Nov. 23rd, 2017 01:07 amEven though the siren's gone off half an hour ago, Cassian still holds his breath until dawn breaks and doesn't really relax until the sun's truly up in the sky, the black of night giving away to blue. He's wary of what he'll see if he peels back the window boards or turns on the TV, but at least from the one slender ray of light from the viewing space he left on one window, he knows morning has truly come.
Jyn lays against him, asleep in one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. It leaves much of her–and her injuries–exposed and he can't help running a finger along the edge of one bandage. It's hard not to marvel at how relatively unscathed they are even after fighting three demons and navigating through the Purge. None of the injuries are serious, something he'd very carefully investigated in the night with fingertips and kisses.
And she'd said she loves him. At the time, it had felt like a gift but now, in the quiet morning, Cassian lets a giddiness settle into his jaded heart. Grinning stupidly, he feels like a schoolboy with a crush and it borrows a lightness that he hasn't had in a long time.
A ray of sunlight creeps over Jyn and he can't help but smile, humming a half-remembered song under his breath. "Te amo y más de lo que puedes imaginar. Te amo ademas como nunca nadie jamas lo hará."
Jyn lays against him, asleep in one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. It leaves much of her–and her injuries–exposed and he can't help running a finger along the edge of one bandage. It's hard not to marvel at how relatively unscathed they are even after fighting three demons and navigating through the Purge. None of the injuries are serious, something he'd very carefully investigated in the night with fingertips and kisses.
And she'd said she loves him. At the time, it had felt like a gift but now, in the quiet morning, Cassian lets a giddiness settle into his jaded heart. Grinning stupidly, he feels like a schoolboy with a crush and it borrows a lightness that he hasn't had in a long time.
A ray of sunlight creeps over Jyn and he can't help but smile, humming a half-remembered song under his breath. "Te amo y más de lo que puedes imaginar. Te amo ademas como nunca nadie jamas lo hará."
The labels are different and promise authenticity to another place, but Cassian knows the ingredients when he sees them. It had squeezed on his heart a little, reminding him of a faraway time when he'd been small, been just a kid. That had been before the deeds stacked up, the prices he paid for the Alliance, before the memories forged chains around his conscience.
That was been a long time ago but some things never go away. Even now, Cassian feels a little guilty for enjoying himself so much but at least the task occupies him. In the time it takes to chop tomatillos, onions, peppers, and cilantro his head empties of all but the task in front of him. He keeps his knife cuts even and precise, careful of quantities and of his own fingers before he dumps everything into the blender.
Lost in the act of frying the tortillas, he forgets himself and hums an old song, mumbling the lyrics under his breath where he remembers them. Sometimes, he leans down and pets Sprinkles, who wags her tail and nearly jumps for joy when he offers her a little chicken.
Jyn and Bodhi might come by. They might not. He'd sent out texts that he was taking care of dinner, not giving away that he's cooking. It's been so long that he's done this that it may not go like he remembers.
That was been a long time ago but some things never go away. Even now, Cassian feels a little guilty for enjoying himself so much but at least the task occupies him. In the time it takes to chop tomatillos, onions, peppers, and cilantro his head empties of all but the task in front of him. He keeps his knife cuts even and precise, careful of quantities and of his own fingers before he dumps everything into the blender.
Lost in the act of frying the tortillas, he forgets himself and hums an old song, mumbling the lyrics under his breath where he remembers them. Sometimes, he leans down and pets Sprinkles, who wags her tail and nearly jumps for joy when he offers her a little chicken.
Jyn and Bodhi might come by. They might not. He'd sent out texts that he was taking care of dinner, not giving away that he's cooking. It's been so long that he's done this that it may not go like he remembers.
Looking back, he's a little amazed that they kept it together for so long. A cab took them into town and Cassian got them food at some fast food joint. It looks like meat but as with all places like it, the constitution only sort of matters as long as it's hot food. Besides, they've both eaten worse and it's around the corner from his building.
It's hard to think of this place as home, simultaneously nicer than any place Cassian's ever had but also it's too tidy, too impersonal. For someone who's spent most of his life trying to be as blank a slate as he can, the irony of how much it bothers him is unavoidable. At least he doesn't have to climb more than a short flight of stairs to get inside. The thought of riding the elevator all the way up to the higher floors squeezes uncomfortably at his memory of Scarif.
"There's a vidscreen but I have to call and get it hooked up for dramas and programs," he says. "I'd say don't steal anything but there's nothing here of value to me."
It's hard to think of this place as home, simultaneously nicer than any place Cassian's ever had but also it's too tidy, too impersonal. For someone who's spent most of his life trying to be as blank a slate as he can, the irony of how much it bothers him is unavoidable. At least he doesn't have to climb more than a short flight of stairs to get inside. The thought of riding the elevator all the way up to the higher floors squeezes uncomfortably at his memory of Scarif.
"There's a vidscreen but I have to call and get it hooked up for dramas and programs," he says. "I'd say don't steal anything but there's nothing here of value to me."
It's hard to speak. Hard to ask the question, but he does. "Do you think anybody's listening?" Does she think it was worth it? Their lives, his sacrifices. If they're victorious then maybe that will make up for it, if only just a little. Jyn can't give him absolution and in the next (last) minutes, he won't ask for forgiveness either. But she can give him what she's always given him since she walked out of that conference room: hope.
"I do." Her voice is soft, almost kind. "Someone's out there."
Then that's enough. They've done enough.
It's over. Whatever else they've done, it's over.
Jyn chooses a place for them to die and she steers him away from that black tower until he can almost pretend that the smell of the ocean overwhelms the smoke of battle. She helps him hobble on until pavement turns to dirt, turns to sand. They pass by a body and she turns him away so he doesn't have to see it. If he had the energy for it, he'd sob in a strange kind of gratitude.
He can hear the water. The soft, shallow waves move back and forth, the surface shaking. He can see the rising surface of the water, the work of the Death Star. Jyn wraps him up in her arms and turns him, bodily, away from the sight of it. He's too exhausted to look at anything else but her but he's glad not to see it.
"Your father would be proud of you," he whispers, drops his forehead to her shoulder, and decides that he's at peace. How many people get half as much a gift as that?
He closes his eyes and hears the roar of the ocean and then all is quiet. Jyn is held tight to him. In the distance, he thinks he hears shouting, sirens, but none of it matters. It's done and he's not dying alone. He holds onto Jyn as the world goes black.
"I do." Her voice is soft, almost kind. "Someone's out there."
Then that's enough. They've done enough.
It's over. Whatever else they've done, it's over.
Jyn chooses a place for them to die and she steers him away from that black tower until he can almost pretend that the smell of the ocean overwhelms the smoke of battle. She helps him hobble on until pavement turns to dirt, turns to sand. They pass by a body and she turns him away so he doesn't have to see it. If he had the energy for it, he'd sob in a strange kind of gratitude.
He can hear the water. The soft, shallow waves move back and forth, the surface shaking. He can see the rising surface of the water, the work of the Death Star. Jyn wraps him up in her arms and turns him, bodily, away from the sight of it. He's too exhausted to look at anything else but her but he's glad not to see it.
"Your father would be proud of you," he whispers, drops his forehead to her shoulder, and decides that he's at peace. How many people get half as much a gift as that?
He closes his eyes and hears the roar of the ocean and then all is quiet. Jyn is held tight to him. In the distance, he thinks he hears shouting, sirens, but none of it matters. It's done and he's not dying alone. He holds onto Jyn as the world goes black.
(no subject)
Jan. 26th, 2017 03:22 am The labels are different and promise authenticity to another place, but Cassian knows the ingredients when he sees them. His heart lurches, reminding him of a faraway time when he'd been allowed the luxury of hope and a little relaxation. That had been before the deeds stacked up, the prices he paid for the Alliance, before the memories forged chains around his conscience.
That had been a long time ago but some things never go away. In the time it takes to chop tomatotillos, onions, peppers, and cilantro his head empties of all but the task in front of him. He keeps his knife cuts even and precise, careful of quantities and of his own fingers before he dumps everything into the blender.
Lost in the act of frying the tortillas, he forgets himself and hums an old song, mumbling the lyrics under his breath where he remembers them.
Jyn might come by, she might not. He's given her a key so that she stops picking the lock, at least.
That had been a long time ago but some things never go away. In the time it takes to chop tomatotillos, onions, peppers, and cilantro his head empties of all but the task in front of him. He keeps his knife cuts even and precise, careful of quantities and of his own fingers before he dumps everything into the blender.
Lost in the act of frying the tortillas, he forgets himself and hums an old song, mumbling the lyrics under his breath where he remembers them.
Jyn might come by, she might not. He's given her a key so that she stops picking the lock, at least.
He knows from the moment they land that they'll never mount an attack. Jyn barely looks at him, barely at anyone, and he thinks it's because she's steeling herself, preparing to have so many eyes on her. It must be hard for someone who's survived by keeping her head down. If he were actually working to recruit her, he'd probably play that up. Wouldn't it be nice not to live in hiding? Isn't there more to life than surviving? Join the Rebellion, take up the cause.
He doesn't need to do any of that now. She's recruited herself and he kind of hates himself for knowing that she's going to get to that table and they're going to say that the risk outweighs the reward. This rebellion is held together with plastoid tape and hope and everyone is scared. Without her father's message, he can't believe that the entire council will agree to it, even if Senator Mon Mothma and Admiral Raddus are desperate for action.
Maybe he should tell her as much before she goes in there tomorrow but it feels cruel to extinguish hope in a face that's clearly gone without for a long time.
He's a little tired of doing cruel things.
The thoughts weigh on his mind when he heads to the canteen, looking for her.
He doesn't need to do any of that now. She's recruited herself and he kind of hates himself for knowing that she's going to get to that table and they're going to say that the risk outweighs the reward. This rebellion is held together with plastoid tape and hope and everyone is scared. Without her father's message, he can't believe that the entire council will agree to it, even if Senator Mon Mothma and Admiral Raddus are desperate for action.
Maybe he should tell her as much before she goes in there tomorrow but it feels cruel to extinguish hope in a face that's clearly gone without for a long time.
He's a little tired of doing cruel things.
The thoughts weigh on his mind when he heads to the canteen, looking for her.
