ohnofeelstho | i am glad it cannot happen twice, the fever of first love. for it is a fever, and a burden, too

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i am glad it cannot happen twice, the fever of first love. for it is a fever, and a burden, too

♪ satellite -- guster feat. the guster string players

The Alliance had rescued her from prison and she supposes she should have been grateful but she'd felt a certain kind of glee when she'd heard the crunch of Melshi's ribs under the shovel she'd swung at him. She knew the second he stepped into view that they were Alliance and they were here for her, however clearly unsanctioned, but that didn't mean she was going to go without a fight. If he couldn't come rescue her his damn self...

It's been four years since she ran away from the Alliance. There was always too many questions: about Saw and Steela Gerrera -- as if she was old enough to answer anything about Steela Gerrera, about Jyn herself, about why she was left behind by the Partisans. She didn't fit in with the Alliance and their stupid little soldier got too close and she ran because she was terrified he would leave her. She ran and changed her name and changed it again and changed it again and forgot that he knew all her aliases and habits and tells. Of course he would find her.

Now she's back with the Alliance and no one will tell her why and no one will tell her where the hell Cassian Jeron Andor is, but they are all sure to tell her that he's a Captain now -- youngest in the Alliance! -- and she should address him as such.

Her middle finger gets tired from being used so much.

Her fists, still shackled, slam against the table. "I'm a prisoner of the Empire, you don't have any right to keep me here against my will!" Maybe she's yelling to no one, but she is positive there is someone outside listening to her so they can relay any information to their captain. He did like knowing things, though she is surprised he is letting them keep her in chains when he knows how much she hates the feeling. Maybe it's an oversight. Maybe he's changed. "Let me out of here!"

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He had THREE whole fake names made even though Melshi didn't join them, so he is carrying one for her too. He should probably give to her, but maybe he was worried she'd grab it and go - not anymore, but at the start.

"The plan is still preferably to open with your name, but we'll see if that helps." His reply is half sarcastic to match.

And then she grabs his arm. His jacket is large and puffy but he still feels it, still knows the frame of her fingers around him. He stiffens, only the quietest breach of his cool posture, trying to pretend he doesn't recognize how nervous she is from the simple gesture alone.

It would be terribly easy to offer comfort for her nerves, but it would also be terrible for him. Even through the jacket, Cassian feels both cold and burned when she pulls back, the combination of which might be Jedha's climate laughing at him.

His tone is quick and flat. "It's fine."

It's not fine. If such a small thing can do this to him, he dreads what Jedha might do. He hates that some part of him wouldn't even mind if she held on again.

Her skin feels like it's on fire, hand curling into a fist before her fingers splay. This was a mistake. How many times can she remind herself of that and still follow him toward the city?

To rid herself of the feeling, she rubs her hand against her leg. Reaching up, she adjusts her scarf again, just enough that it blocks Cassian from her view. As long as she doesn't look up, she can't see him. She wants out of sight to be out of mind, but she doesn't think it will really work. She can pretend.

Cassian catches her movements out of the corner of his eye and wonders. Jyn always hid her emotions in a different way from him, but he'd always been able to pick at some of the pieces of hers.

He stops wondering. He doesn't - can't - think about what she's thinking. Instead he lets the silence stick around and hang heavy in the air, because even the thick uncomfortable tension between them is better than asking her about it. He has to stop trying to parse her thoughts.

It doesn't mean he doesn't feel like he's going to burst by the time they reach the city. At least passing through the checkpoint gives him something else to focus on while he digs out their papers.

At least she has an excuse to keep her head down now, trying to play the part of demure pilgrim and putting herself neatly in Cassian's shadow. She idly thinks it would be better if she had a red scarf or at least something red. Her mother always had that red sash Jyn used to remembered clinging to as they walked through the sodden fields of Lah'mu.

She does strain to listen to her name and Cassian's to see how he is explaining their presence together. Briefly she wonders if he was going to make her and Melshi siblings. A flicker of genuine remorse tugs at her, but only because now she has to imagine Melshi's affront at having to pretend to be her brother.

He was going to make Melshi and Jyn siblings. He was also going to put Melshi as his husband to avoid awkwardness with Jyn, because there's no way he looks related to either one of them. It wouldn't be strange to keep the story the same, but a missing husband would likely mean some sort of conversation. Since the documents now just say husband and wife on a pilgrimage, there's virtually no interaction as the troopers let he and Jyn pass through without issue.

Cassian quietly hopes she doesn't ask, since the troopers didn't even bring it up. They're inside, that should be enough, and now the next (and hardest) part is going to be making contact with the Partisans.

In the ticking time bomb of Jedha City. He pinches her sleeve, making sure it's only the fabric he touches, and pulls her alongside him rather than behind him, not wanting the bustle of the city to separate them.

Jyn doesn't ask, deciding to question it later. When she can see Melshi's expression. For now she silently follows alongside him, close but not too close. She has questions but they don't seem important for now and if they are, she knows Cassian will answer them without her needing to ask in the first place.

The crowds are larger than she expected, bustling and loud and the noise and smells of the food drifting out of the stalls that line the street of the marketplace makes her head pound. It's enough that when someone jostles her directly into Cassian she can't help the sharp, angry crack of her voice as she turns toward the person that shoved her.

"Hey!"

In hindsight, he should have expected this - but looking for positives, it could have been much worse. Cassian immediately scoops his arm under hers and locks in his grip, pulling Jyn back against him, all in the span of about two seconds. He holds up his other arm in apology towards the person, who's now turned and started to glower.

"No trouble," he says. While he knows he and Jyn are probably both more than capable of winning this fight - he doesn't want a fight already. It's barely been five minutes.

Jyn almost fights back, but after a few seconds she relents and sags against Cassian's grip. Another few seconds and she turns back in the direction they were originally heading.

"I'm fine." She doesn't shake him off though, mostly because she still kind of needs him to hold her back.

He doesn't let go either, because he knows she still needs to be held back; instead of dwelling on that fact, he just keeps moving and walking, losing the affronted party somewhere in the crowds. He knows how to lose a good trail, let alone a mildly irritated pilgrim.

"You wouldn't have been," he says, ducking them closer towards the edges of the street, looking for a decent enough hanging or awning to slip under. He turns sharply down another street, still pulling her alongside him.

She doesn't disagree, letting him drag her around wherever he needs her to be while she coaxes her temper back into check. It is not an easy task when her emotions feel like they've had a shot of adrenaline and extra amphetamines.

Eventually she repeats herself, "I'm fine", and it's slightly more true.

It sounds more true, and because they're still pretty close from all the shuffling and walking and maneuvering, he can tell some of the tension really has drained out of her. He loosens his grip, but keeps his arm through hers for a little longer, not thinking about touching her and just focusing on the mission. Finding his contact. Tossing her name out.

"Don't pick fights," he says, mild, and he knows it was barely a fight, and that the other person was just as likely to engage or start the confrontation, but it bears reminding anyway.

"I'm not!" She wasn't! Mostly. She sort of wasn't. No, she bristles up, she wasn't trying to pick a fight and she is a little annoyed he is implying she would.

When she usually, absolutely, always picks a fight.

Like she is doing right now, with Cassian.

He gives her A Look. It's instinctual; a sign of how little she's changed in that regard, and he hates that the familiarity is a comfort and a sting.

"You almost did, and you're doing so again right now."

"I didn--" She cuts herself off, hands balling into tiny little fists before she releases them. "I won't pick any fights. Even with you."

Which feels necessary to add specifically all on it's own.

He's not sure he believes her, but at least it's born out of how ready to fight all the time she is and not out of mistrust. She even balls her fists up like she's about to argue.

"I'll believe that when I see it. Or I suppose when I don't see it."

He's also still holding her arm and should probably let go soon. They're on a quieter street now, but he wants to wait a few more seconds to be sure. "Remember, we don't want Stormtrooper attention."

"I got it. Tranquilo como un ratón, capitán." Jyn can do quiet if she tries hard and believes in herself. She'll have to try harder to make up for how much she doesn't believe in herself.

"What do you want me to do while you meet your contact?"

He can at the very least make sure she stays close enough that he can intercept any fights.

His answer is related though. "I want you to stay close by. If we're lucky, maybe you can stay with me and then they will know you are real. If not, they will probably want to see you as soon as I drop your name regardless."

"Yeah, to kill me." That is meant to be far quieter (as in silent) and less... resigned, but. Jyn isn't expecting to be greeted with open arms at any point during this mission. The Partisans, Saw, her father.

Cassian.

She isn't exactly the prodigal daughter returning anywhere. But her lips purse once it's out and she adds: "Sorry. That wasn't constructive."

He frowns, faintly, though it's not really a surprising response from her.

"I'm not going to let them kill you."

Cassian still doesn't know what his feelings are doing, the ache and frustrations surrounding his reunion with Jyn, but he doesn't want her dead. "But it's not a claim I can make without some kind of proof."

"The proof is in your pocket." Jyn Erso is never without that crystal, she'd punched enough rebels over it. "I was sixteen when-- That was almost six years ago, Cassian, if anyone is still around who remembers me, they'll remember that, too."

That doesn't mean she is unwilling to go with him or near him, nothing in her tone implies that because she still trusts her life in his hands, but it makes it no less true. The crystal is proof enough, though honestly she's rather get riddled with blaster fire than watch someone try to snatch is out of his hands so.

"I'll stay close."

His hand moves, like it's going to touch the crystal, but he stops and drops his arm quickly. The kyber crystal is proof of so many things, too many things, and there's a part of Cassian that would like to keep it hidden and safe no matter what - but he knows he would take it out, if Saw asked.

"All we need is one person to remember you." Saw, obviously, but he's wary about using the man's name outright. "I will show it if I need to, but I won't hand it over."

He doesn't know why the reassurance slips out. But he remembers her, barely over sixteen and fresh away from the Partisans, angry and scared and bristling to fight anyone who even looked at her.

Not a lot has changed since then, except the harder lines in her face and probably more scars. She's older now, and maybe better at hiding it, but she's just as angry.

He bristles now, annoyed with himself. "From what we've gathered, your name will be enough to at least draw the right attention. You do not look so different that he will not recognize your face."

Cassian is not an emotional creature, he's always been so much better at concealing his emotions than she is and so the tiniest hint of emotion from him is huge. It makes her feel a little ill and a little hopeful at the same time. She always used to get such a giddy rush from poking cracks in his facade, pulling smiles and laughter from him when they were hiding in her cramped bunk or at more inappropriate times like in the middle of the mess hall or tucked into a corner of the hanger or sitting in the pilot's seat of the U-Wing... rein it in, Erso.

At least he isn't indifferent.

She doesn't point out any of that, knowing better and somehow finding the self-control to not ask him outright if he hates her. "Yeah. I'll go wherever you want me to go."

He tries to pretend her words don't make him think of a much happier time, when she could and would say something similar with a smile on her face. He used to strive to make her smile. It used to be so easy to let his guard down with her, to feel light. Sometimes he misses it. Mostly he tells himself it was a fluke and he let himself risk too much.

"Just - stay close for now." Cassian feels like they're just reassuring each other over and over but if he stops, they'll either welcome back the silence or more awkward small talk. He can't decide which of the three is the worst option. He needs to stop telling her to stay close. He can't believe how agreeable she's being right now. Too many bouncing thoughts.

"We're almost there. Don't talk to anyone. Don't get distracted."

There are too many people here out to swindle pilgrims and tourists, and Cassian would rather they not fall into that part of the role - not that either of them are likely to be tricked, but the point. "We have to hope for this chance."

She nods, short and fast and coaxes her expression into something determined, tries to ignore her own uncomfortable and ultimately pointless hope. Telling herself that it doesn't matter how she feels is easy because she's been doing it ever since Saw pulled her out of the hole on Lah'mu.

She stays silent only because the urge to ask him if he hates her is so strong she knows she won't be able to keep it at bay a second time and that is irrelevant. She has no right to ask after his feelings to make herself feel better, she has no right to ask anything of him. She mentally scolds herself with this reminder -- she left him, nothing that she feels matters now.

And so she nods and stays close and says nothing, trying very hard to focus on the task at hand. She makes a mess of everything, but she can hope she won't make a mess of this one thing.

He can't decide whether to take her silence as a good sign or a bad sign. Instead of dwelling, he just takes it as a temporary blessing as he starts to move again, slipping through Jedha with a new alertness. The tensions are higher than he realized, the reports falling short, and he'd like to find his contact before there's any sort of skirmish.

Vendors and tricksters alike call out to them, but Cassian is good at ignoring them, just like he's good at ignoring his feelings. Just like he's good at ignoring the familiarity in moving through the streets with her, the way he brushes against her back to push her in the right direction, the way he tugs on her arm to pull her out of the way of traffic, the way she presses into him when they need to squeeze through tight alleys or between crowds. He's wearing his fluffy coat, but he still feels like every point of contact is burning him like an ache. So much for keeping the space between them.

They duck into a tiny alcove and he frowns, looking it over and looking for a familiar face amid the hustlers around them. "They should be here, or at least close," he mumbles.

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