kestreldawn: (cassian pt 4 with you)
Jyn Erso ([personal profile] kestreldawn) wrote in [community profile] muserevival2017-02-27 03:54 pm

muserevival 142.1 || lyrics

"I'm trying, but I keep falling down;
I cry out, but nothing comes now.
I'm giving my all,
And I know peace will come;
I never wanted to need someone."
• Helium, Sia


(OOC: inspired by the reunion between Jyn and Cassian ([personal profile] candor1) at [community profile] sixthiterationlogs)

There's a moment, before Jyn closes her eyes to attempt to fall back asleep for what feels like the hundredth time that evening - when her gaze is lazily wandering amongst the dying flames of the fire, its fading heat pulled away from her skin - that she feels a jolt of dread. It's a dull jolt, not as sharp or bright as the pain she'd felt when she'd crawled out of the fountain hours ago - the one that almost gutted her there, out in the open, when she'd realized she'd somehow been spared on the beaches of Scarif. The one that nearly sliced her from neck to navel at the sudden and overwhelming tidal wave of Cassian's absence. It has lost some of its strength in those hours, now lulled and quelled by the faint sound of his breathing behind her, the tickle of his exhaled air on the back of her neck, the warmth of it seeping into her skin and replacing the kiss of the flames. His arm feels heavy, resting on top of her, but grounding - like a tether to keep her firmly on the earth, lest she float up and away into the stratosphere in an attempt to find her version of safety (which only meant excruciating solitude - the need to self-protect is stifling and suffocating).

His breathing is steady, hypnotic - better than any amount of luna-weed or Spice that she could have ever hoped to ingest. Better than the dizzying delight she'd found at the end of her first sip of fermented bantha milk Staven had let her tried so many years ago. She shuffles herself back against him, wishing nothing more than to be able to crawl inside of his rib cage and seek solace there, let his bones protect her and keep her safe while she did all she could to protect the beating mass contained within. It's a hunger that rumbles deep in the pit of her gut to be closer to him still, closer and closer until there's nothing left between them.

"When did you become so soft?" a voice hisses in her ear, or is it her mind? "When did you become so reliant upon another person? When did you become so weak?"

"Stop it," she mutters, squeezing her eyes shut as she tugs Cassian's arm around her more tightly. He stirs behind her at the movement, but sleep's hold on him is strong enough to keep him from waking.

"When has another person ever given you reason to trust in them? When have they ever given you anything but pain, as you watched them walk away from you? As you watched their life force come screaming out of their mouth? Your father, your mother, Saw, Maia, the lot of them. All they did was leave."

"That's enough," she pleads, trying to steady her quivering hands by gathering them close to her heart.

"Pathetic. If you were strong enough, good enough, complete enough, you wouldn't have felt so broken when you'd arrived. You wouldn't have torn through the cabins, through the town looking for him the moment you learned he was here. You would've stuck to your plan, you would've relied only upon yourself."

Jyn shakes her head lightly, willing the voice to stop - willing sleep to come and find her. It's as the voice begins to hiss for the fourth time that she hears murmuring behind her, feels Cassian shift himself forward, forehead against the back of her head. He tugs her tighter, mumbling incoherence into her ear as he wanders through the landscape of his dream. The voice begins to rear its head back to begin again when she hears:

"Jyn," from behind her. The shadows slink back into the corners, the flames seem to grow, the voice's tongue has been ripped out. The soft breeze of his voice has dispelled them all - with nothing more than the simple melody of her name. A name she'd spent years trying to outrun, trying to forget, trying to kill. A name she now loves, a name she now cherishes for the dulcet song of it from his lips.

Her lids heavy themselves, though she doesn't put up much of a fight.

Here, in this strange cabin -

Here, with Cassian -

She's home.