Cassian likes the stream. It's loud enough to mask excessive noises, it lets him speak in hushed tones. It makes him nervous taking Espi there, but it makes him all the more determined to fix and create a better hearing aid so she can experience it better. So it's safe. They've got enough fish for a couple days by the end of it, which is always a comfort instead of having to trek through the woods all over again too soon. It's worse when they have to go into town, but it's fortunately a rarity.
It's a long walk back to the farmhouse, no thanks to the very close call with the former neighbor. It was all he could do but lift Mateo and run, ticking down the slow seconds in the nook of the tree while they waited in silence for the creature to finish its murder and leave. He covers Mateo's mouth while his son covers his own ears, and he does his best to shield him from the sounds of it. There's only so much he could do, but he wishes it were more.
It's after dusk by the time they approach the farm, walking carefully on the white sanded pathways. Mateo slips his hand up and winds their fingers together, and Cassian squeezes it. He refilled the paths the other day, insuring extra silence, just like together he and Jyn have created a house made for moving around in the quiet. The painted trail on the floors, marking the safe spots to step in the creaky hallway. The lights strung up around between the house, the barn, the silo, each color with a different meaning. Inside, the soft carpets, the pillows in every nook and cranny. No plates or silverware: they eat their food off other foods, a tray of lettuce, a bowl of bread. The soundproof basement, always an idea but suddenly a necessity when Jyn got pregnant.
He climbs over the last hill and freezes at the top, feeling Mateo stiffen beside him. The lights are red.
Cassian can feel the panic racing up his spine, and he immediately starts running, kicking off the cool sand against his bare feet. Mateo struggles to keep up, and Cassian skids them to a halt at a fork on the sand.
The rocket, he signs. You have to, you can do this, I believe in you. For your mother, you need to help her. It takes a little arguing and encouragement, but his son rushes off and Cassian makes a beeline for the workshop, as quickly as possible grabbing the gun as he makes his way back towards the house. Each step he pretends the lights aren't red. That he's just walking home. That nothing is waiting for him inside, but better safe (and silent) than sorry has been their mantra for almost two years.
Mateo will set off the rocket. Espi will be with Jyn. There will be nothing he needs to shoot.
Jyn has grown used to the silence. She's been a disaster communicating since she was a child so the quiet came almost naturally to her. If she had to teach her children by example, she's a damn fine example. She's done so many things without a word -- stubbing her toe, kissing her children good night, darning warn clothes, bathing, dancing, laughing, loving.
Nothing prepared her for giving birth in silence.
It's too soon, but she knows it isn't too soon. The baby will be fine, alive, loud, and it's probably knowing that, the stress of that, that starts the labor in the first place. Espi had gone to the stream to help her brother and Cassian bring back the fish, begrudging, and Jyn finds herself almost grateful to be alone with her pain until she realizes she's alone. She's alone and she has to do this all on her own and there isn't a hospital she can go to for an epidural. The pain seems worse for not having an outlet, the contractions so painful she almost collapses and crashes into a framed photo on the wall. It feels like slow motion watching the frame hit the floor, the glass breaking, the frame cracking like thunder.
She's on her own but Cassian has drilled this plan into her head: they'll set the rocket off, she'll be fine, the baby will be fine. But she's alone and she needs to turn the lights on so he even knows and something is coming because of that picture. It's instinct now to stay silent when she feels the nail tear through her foot, instinct to focus on all she needs to do to fix that -- clean the wound, air the wound, dress the wound, stay off the wound -- so she won't scream, even if something is already coming. She turns the lights on and moves as fast as she can to the bathroom, leaving a trail of blood behind her, tucking herself in the tub as the contractions threaten to overwhelm her.
She can't scream, she can't make a noise, she has to grapple with giving birth to a premature baby, and pray, pray Cassian keeps the kids longer at the stream and they don't come home to the monsters. She never wanted to be alone for this, but if it meant keeping her children safe, of course she would suffer in silence.
It's the longest of walks and so very hard to stay on the path, to avoid cutting corners through the corn, but the noise of it would help no one. Long at last the first firework explodes overhead, though it only brings a small fraction of relief because he only knows the safety of himself. The sky lights up and Cassian bolts, moving as quickly as he can with the gun raised. Mateo will be fine. They prepared both him and Espi for this. He has to be careful, because the fireworks will lure anything in the area far from the house, but it doesn't mean something might not catch him if he breaks his own rules of silence along the way.
He approaches and slips into the house, eyes wide and ears open for any heavy creaking. His heart hammers away so loudly that he's almost afraid it's echoing; there are new scratches up the walls, torn up furniture, and bloody footprints up the stairs. He doesn't lower the gun, climbing each step with precision. She's fine, she's alive, they're all alive. His stomach bottoms out when he reaches the top and he can't ignore the clawed hole in the wall as he carefully approaches the bathroom, following the bloody prints across the wooden floor. It's hideous. It's deep and aggressive and it means there was a monster in his house.
Gun first, he pushes into the bathroom. Inside, he finds a tub full of blood, and not a single body in sight. For two seconds, he swears his heart stops beating, and he feels like he's going to hurl. His hands shake while he stares at the tub and his legs collapse beneath him as he sinks slowly to the floor.
His thoughts race in too many directions. Something got her. Got them. All of them. It left. She's hiding. She's gone. They're gone. Jyn is gone. It's hard not to think the worst when every minute of his life since the first creatures appeared has been about avoiding the worst.
He bites at his sleeve to stop the panicked gasp that crawls up his throat and overtakes him. He needs to collect his thoughts, figure out the next strategy, Mateo is still out there, but the ache of failure and grief is overtaking his rationality. Check the house. Check other rooms, half of him whispers, but the other half lives in stronger fear of death and in this moment, he can't combat it.
Jyn swears the scream she lets out when she hears the rockets going off could be heard for miles, but she doesn't waste time checking, dragging herself out of the tub and holing up in the shower, trying to force her breathing to steady out and soften.
What if it comes back? What if it comes back and the baby cries, as babies do.
She'd been consumed by guilt from the start when she realized she was pregnant but now she feels like she's drowning in it. How dare they bring a child into this world? At least Espi and Mateo had lives before the world went to shit, they knew peace and laughter and raucous, gleeful childhoods. This baby--
She stops thinking when she hears a noise in the bathroom, cradling the infant to her chest, hoping she isn't smothering the newborn with the blankets meant to muffle any noises a newborn doesn't know how to stifle. The silence from the other creature in the room is what clues her into the fact that it isn't one of the monsters. It's a person who knows well enough to stay quiet. Maybe Espi turned back so she wouldn't get fish guts on her hands again. Maybe Mateo ran away from Cassian and ignored the lights. No, both of them would be making more noise, even unintentionally. She knows what the room looks like, all the blood...
Her hand slips across the floor of the shower, hitting the door with a faint thud. "Cassian."
He starts to count. He just needs to reach ten. Then twenty. He'll give himself a minute. One, two, three - he gets up to eighteen and still can't breathe when there's a thud on the shower door.
Cassian nearly leaps out of his skin, spinning the gun around, but two seconds later he hears a whisper of his name. His name.
He doesn't drop the gun, that would be too loud, but he discards it almost carelessly as he scrambles towards the shower, sliding the door open as careful as he can rush it.
Curled up inside is Jyn, with a tiny bundle in her arms, and the pure relief that soars through him burns out all the grief and anger, even if it doesn't kick out any of the tears. He pushes himself up and leans over the ledge, reaching for her face and cradling it with both hands.
"Jyn," it's the faintest of sounds, barely audible, but she is alive and he's touching her, he can see her moving and breathing and she's holding their child, buried under blankets to muffle the sounds a newborn makes. He can't see them and he wants to, desperately, but it can't be risked. He leans in, the ledge of the door digging into his stomach, but he presses his forehead to hers and breathes her in. Two seconds later he kisses her, a desperate yet soft push of his lips to hers.
It's still not safe, but he needs this reassurance before he can get himself back into gear. Maybe he still needs that minute, if not a few more seconds.
Jyn can feel the tears leaking down her cheeks, but they were already there and she can taste them against her lips when Cassian kisses her, hoarding the relief she gets from such a familiar affection. She's a stroppy, sweaty mess, covered in blood and other... things she doesn't want to think about right now. One hand lifts to grip his arm as the baby squirms against her chest.
Her chest feels tight, trying to contain the emotions. She'd wept when Espi was born, laughed when Mateo was placed in her arms, she's not allowed to do either with this one, not if she wants the newborn to survive.
It's not fair.
Jyn uses her grip on his arm to push him back a bit so she can see him, eyes skating over him, checking for injuries before she uses that same one hand to form her hand into a recognizable motion.
The children? She doesn't waste time with any other questions, only the simple, one handed sign searching for her babies. Where are Espi and Mateo, are they safe. He has to go find them again and make sure they're okay, but she needs to know they were okay when he last saw them. One moment at a time is all she can deal with.
It's not a long kiss, but it's enough to rejuvenate his energy. It feels like hope, especially when he feels the tiny movements of the baby between them. Hope and a rekindled need to get her to the basement, before the aforementioned baby grows too loud. He has so many things he wants to ask her, but she beats him to the most important question of all.
Some of the relief edges away as worry slips in when she asks about the children. She doesn't know where Espi is. He'd thought maybe she was hiding away, that Jyn had sent her elsewhere once the creature came to the house. He brushes some of the hair from her face, then pulls back one of his own hands to sign two words. Him. Rocket.
There's a puzzled screech from outside, but he knows not even that would be enough to distract Jyn from the fact that he hasn't mentioned their daughter. The baby gives off the tiniest of whines under the blankets and Cassian stiffens.
He lets go of her to use both hands to speak next, keeping his body leaning in close and trying to swallow down the panic that neither of them know where Espi is. We can't stay here.
He knows her too well, eyes filling with mingled horror and dread. Mateo should be safe, her baby, but what about their first born? Their stubborn, difficult little girl who was so determined to be exactly herself that half the parenting books on their shelves were devoted to her.
Easy to Love, Difficult to Discipline. The Strong Willed Child. Scream Free Parenting. The last one still surprisingly relevant.
They can't stay, he's right, and Jyn doesn't bother fighting him, curling her arm tighter around the impossibly small infant as she braces her other hand on the door frame, wincing as she struggles to her feet, feeling pain explode around her midsection. It at least dulls the pain from her foot, so that's always nice. Especially considering the happy hormones that make childbirth a fuzzy, gauzy memory of only the happiness of holding her precious baby are nowhere to be found.
Two hands are necessary to ask for help, but the way Jyn tips into Cassian, forehead pressing against his shoulder is sign enough that there is no way in hell she is going to be able to go quietly.
He wants to kiss her again to erase that look on her face, but there's no time, and he knows his own is mirroring it. He thinks about Espi, and offers three quick words: she is smart. It's as much for himself as it is for her. Their beautiful daughter is clever and amazing, and he has to believe she's safe. If she saw the fireworks, she would go meet up with her brother.
Watching the way Jyn winces in pain, Cassian springs to action. There's no way this is going to happen easily, he knows that, just like there's no way she's going to be able to move without sound. She probably only made it from the tub to the shower because of the fireworks.
As quietly as he can, he maneuvers himself around and wedges his arms around hers and her back. He helps her to her feet, slowly, carefully, and somehow he manages to get her up without any noise. He doesn't help her out of the shower. He lifts her out of it. Once he's standing on the bathroom floor with Jyn and baby in his arms, he spares a moment to just... hold her. He avoids her midsection as best he can, scooping his arms around her shoulders and legs.
But it's only a moment. He kisses her temple and carries his wife and baby out of the bathroom, heart pounding while he listens. Always listening, always on guard.
The baby whines again, tiny little hungry sounds, and Cassian moves a little faster, slipping down the stairs in silence as quickly as he can without hurting Jyn. It's going to carry. The fireworks have ended, though he isn't sure when, the sounds of their newborn are now the loudest. He tiptoes towards the door and outside, where the lights are still red, leading the way across the sand path towards the barn with their special soundproof basement.
Its not far. They can do this. He can do this, he can get her there, then find Espi and Mateo.
Jyn has always been grateful for her husband, he literally taught her to love, he knows everything about her and they're still best friends. They quite honestly had to get married because they were it for each other. But right now, in pain and bloody and trying not to sob from the sheer terror of being separated from her children whilst trying to protect a new child, she has never been more grateful for her husband who planned for everything, plans on plans on plans on plans.
Espi is smart, she knows what to do because they'd taught her what to do and they'd taught Mateo and even if Espi didn't go to the silo for her own good, she would always go to protect her brother. Jyn has to believe in that.
She tries to be less of a dead weight against Cassian but the reality isn't quite so easy. She knows the baby is hungry, needing to eat, but she can't exactly maneuver to feed at the moment, try as she might. She can't do it at least without pulling back more of the blankets and what little is peeled back for air is already too much, too loud. All she can do is hope that the movement of Cassian carrying them both will be as soothing as being rocked and the baby will fall asleep, but that doesn't seem to be how this day is going to go. This day is going to wring her dry.
Their children are smart and brave and wonderful, just like their father, they will protect each other and they will all come back to her. They have to, they must.
He spends the time between two thoughts: keeping Jyn safe in his arms and doing his best not to jostle her, and all the steps he needs to take to get them all into that basement before the creatures reach them. He can't do anything for Espi and Mateo until Jyn and the baby are safe first. Cassian had no real family growing up. Jyn became his family, became the most important person in his life. Now there are several most important someones, in a family with a wife and children he never dreamed possible. And while he's always known he'd do anything for them, he never expected it to be put to such a very real life or death test.
He can hear the creatures in the distance, and he breaks into a jog. It might be too much on Jyn, but better a little more pain than no pain because they've been killed. The blankets muffle the baby, but it's not perfect; he can hear it, which means so can they. He might be moving faster to outrun the creatures, but it's not a very soothing pace for the infant who's already also dealing with hunger. There's another screech and Cassian hurries along even faster, the barn so close yet so far.
One of the aliens bursts out of the corn just as he skids into the barn. He kicks over the mattress and climbs down the ladder with them in his arms. He hurries Jyn to her feet, knowing full well she might not be able to stand, but he has to get the mattress sealed back over the hatchway. He yanks it just as the creature comes barreling into the barn, and he slides the trapdoor shut too, bolting it.
It thrashes above them, but the room has been built to keep any of their sounds from traveling out. At least that was the goal. It's never been tested so earnestly. Once the top door is secure, he hurries over to Jyn where she's struggling with the baby box.
The first thing Jyn wants to do when she gets a second to herself is throw up because the pain is blinding, but she can't think about it now because she has to tuck the baby away. But the baby is crying because of hunger and if Jyn could just nurse...
"I have to feed her."
She knows the plan, but every instinct and every hormone in her poor body is begging to feed her child, even if logic tells her it's too dangerous right now, even if she knows they just need a few seconds of quiet to be sure that the soundproofing is working, that the creature is abandoning them. Her fingers fumble uselessly, still clutching the baby protectively to her chest, some of the blankets fallen away to show a shock of dark hair and ten tiny fingers and toes stretching and flexing as their newborn daughter gets used to life in this terrible reality.
This was not how Cassian was meant to meet his newborn child.
Her. He has another daughter. He wants to meet her properly, he wants to hold her and see her, kiss her little tiny head.
He holds up his finger to his mouth and shakes his head, ushering them both to the handmade cradle that seems more like a prison than a bed. It's just a few minutes. They just need to be quiet enough that another sound will make the creatures leave. Later, she can be fed later.
Cassian moves Jyn's arms and helps her settle the baby inside the heavily cushioned space, hooking her up to the oxygen tank. He covers it up with the lid, feeling his heart breaking at how it seems like they're sealing the newborn away, knowing she needs to eat, she needs their affection, but more than that, she needs to be alive. The box virtually muffles all the crying, and the walls around them should keep everything else on mute even more. He's done every single thing he could to make sure this room is safe.
Once the baby is inside, he pulls Jyn to him and helps her keep upright, too afraid to move anymore. He stands with her next to the box, holding her against him and cradling her head while the creature continues wrecking havoc above them.
It's a minute, maybe two. But eventually, slowly, they can hear it leaving and silence once again fills the rooms above them. Even so, it still takes Cassian another minute or so to move, paranoia taking precedence.
He pulls away to look at his wife, staring at her tired, wonderful, beautiful face, and despite everything terrible about this day - they're alive. All three of them are alive, and the basement is soundproof. The creature didn't hear them.
Jyn doesn't fight him once he takes over, letting him take control because she knows they both need exactly that. It's the same when he pulls her to his chest, Jyn goes willingly and lets his broad chest hide her sobs and the way her shoulders shake. It worked but their baby is still nestled in a tiny prison and their other children are who knows where.
She appreciates Cassian's determination to wait until he is sure that the creature is gone because it means she can at least make a weak attempt at getting ahold of herself. It is a failed attempt but she nods all the same. It worked, he made it work.
"Avie." Short for Aviana, what Mateo would have been called had he been a girl. Would have been Espi's name if they both hadn't agreed the alliteration of Aviana Andor made her sound like a superhero. Maybe what she needs right now is to be a superhero. It certainly can't hurt. Jyn looks up at Cassian, heartbroken that neither of them are holding their daughter, but determined at the same time. If anyone can protect an infant in this time, it's Cassian. She would never want to do this with anyone else.
When he feels her start silently sobbing into his chest, he doesn't want to let her go. She's just been through something so excruciating and terrifying, and his wife is just... amazing. She is the strongest person he knows, and if he can offer any kind of comfort just by holding her, he'd do it forever.
He kisses her head again, once, twice, three times, before he hears her say the name. He meets her eyes and offers a very timid smile. Aviana. It feels so perfect a name right now, alliteration or otherwise. Avie Andor, safe in her box, safe beneath the walls he designed to keep them all safe.
The kids, she says, and his chest tightens. "You need to sit," he replies, gently maneuvering her over to the bed and helping her lay down on it.
"Mateo knows where to go. Espi will have seen the fireworks and gone to him." He sits beside Jyn, brushing his fingers over her cheek. He doesn't want to leave her, but he already knows he's going to, because his children are still out there. Despite knowing the room works, he can't help but keep talking in a tone barely above a whisper. Two years of rarely using his voice aren't going to be overrun by a single room. "I am going to get them and bring them here, and they will get to meet their new sister. I promise."
The only reason Jyn doesn't fight being effectively put to bed is because of the pain. She's a bloody mess and needs to take care of that before he returns with the children but the flood of relief through her body at getting off her feet finally is too much for her to clean up now. She'll take a minute.
One minute to breathe before she has to get back to work.
"What if she didn't see them?" Jyn doesn't usually voice her biggest fears, that the same ability that saved their family -- Espi's deafness gave them a leg up communicating silently -- might cause harm to their now eldest daughter. Espi is as observant and perceptive as her father, but as reckless and stubborn as her mother. Jyn doesn't want her own influence to win out and get Espi hurt if she doesn't hear something coming.
It's his promise that sways her, in any case. Throughout their entire relationship he'd always been cautious about making promises he couldn't keep, they both had. He's promising her now and she trusts that, trusts him to do every single thing in his power to protect their babies.
He thinks he knew what she was going to ask even before it comes out, simply because it's something he's been trying not to ask himself.
Cassian winds his free hand through Jyn's, squeezing her fingers. His other hand is still cradling her face, and he gets a look of very grim determination on her face. "They were very big fireworks. We have taught her to always look around."
It's a reminder to himself too. Their eldest is all the best and worst qualities of them both, but it makes her even stronger. She can't hear, she can't tell when she's making a noise, but she knows the safe places to go. She wouldn't have strayed too far and left her mother alone.
"If she did not go to the silo, she cannot have gone far." He pulls up Jyn's hand and kisses her knuckles, closing his eyes and leaving his lips against her skin to collect himself. It's a very risky promise and he knows that, but he also knows their children. It's a plan they've gone over a million times. Espi may be stubborn and defiant, but she isn't stupid. He's confident in this promise, because the alternative is unthinkable.
"I sent her to find you," Jyn admits weakly, lifting her hand to curl around Cassian's holding hers. "Find them and come back to me."
She'll be fine until he gets back, but she can't do this on her own. She won't. That remains unspoken but she knows he knows. They'd read On The Beach together. This is not a life she is ever going to survive without Cassian and their children, she won't put Avie through that. She can't. It would be impossible to protect and raise an infant on her own in this kind of world.
She needs Cassian and their children, they have to come back to her.
He frowns, wanting to ask her why. But there's no point to the question now, it's done and over and it just wastes time. If Espi went looking for him, he hadn't seen her, which could narrow down the places she went.
He understands what she means, that unspoken implication. He grappled with it however briefly already today, when he'd thought she'd been killed by one of the creatures. The world was bleak and hopeless and impossible, and only the thought of his children stopped him from screaming right then and there.
Cassian ducks his head towards hers and kisses her sweetly, lingering not out of passion but just being close. "I love you too, Jyn Erso-Andor." He cracks a tiny smile about her name and runs his thumb over her cheek. "More than anything. They will come home to you. And so will I."
Jyn breathes out a weak smile, pushing herself up to kiss him in return, hard and determined and desperate, eschewing all of Cassian's sweetness.
"I know you will, you always have." The only stability in her entire life and he became her life. Her mother had tried and tried to teach her to trust and have faith, but it took meeting this incredible man when he was just a gangly teenage boy for her to really even understand what trust was. He always kept his promises, he always came home to her, he always made her smile when she wanted to scream. For all the horror, if she had to choose between this life with Cassian and a peaceful life without him?
She would choose Cassian every time.
"Go." She releases their clasped hands, lifting her hand to flatten her palm against his cheek, fingers splaying against the familiar scruff of his beard. "Come home soon."
There are a handful of things that always manage to remind him he is loved. The way Espi and Mateo smile at him. The way Jyn kisses him. He feels so loved in this moment, despite the uncertainty about everything surrounding them.
They are alive and together, and sometimes that's all Cassian could ask for. It's what he is fighting for. He would do it a million times, as long as it was Jyn fighting beside him.
He lets go of her very reluctantly, but leans down to kiss her forehead. "Get some rest. Please. You deserve it and more." He climbs to his feet and feels a sense of sadness at their parting, but he cannot leave Espi and Mateo out there without him. "I will see you soon."
He wants to say goodbye to Avie, but he's not sure he'd be able to leave if he looked at her now. He trusts her safety to Jyn and to the walls they made for her in the first place. Before he gets pulled into staying even longer, he moves for the ladder and very carefully opens up the trapdoor once he's sure there's nothing waiting above him.
With a final look at Jyn, he closes it shut behind him and scrambles out of the barn on silent feet.
Jyn nods, silent again. Not out of necessity this time but simply her inability to shrink how much she loves him into a handful of words. She signs I love you and presses it over her heart but it doesn't seem like enough.
She counts to thirty once he's gone, listening to make sure he's not attacked, before she gives into the avalanche of overwhelming emotions and breaks down again -- before he brings the kids back. She can't break down in front of them so she allows herself the luxury now, still stifling the sound of her sobs in the pillow out of habit. It does little to soften the well of anxiety in her belly that never seems to run out of more stress and terror, but it doesn't skim off a measure of hormonal disaster so she feels like can function on at least a basic level.
It's necessary, even if she is exhausted and in pain, she still has to be ready.
She cleans herself up, trying not to cover all of their towels in blood. She cleans and bandages her foot. She cleans Avie finally, pins a diaper on her, wraps her up in blankets and feeds her while she waits, pacing in front of Cassian's surveillance monitors, trying to spot the rest of her family.
The first thing he does is make his way back to the house to retrieve the gun. His priorities were elsewhere earlier, and the fact that Jyn and Avie are now safe below the floor means he made the right call. With the lights still red, Cassian moves quickly along the sand pathways, stopping now and then to make sure he doesn't hear anything. The house is in disarray, and neither of the kids are inside, but the silo is the most likely space. The fire isn't alight at the top, but he tells himself it's a windy night. Maybe it just couldn't stay lit.
There's a commotion at the silo when he's about halfway there, and he runs as quickly as he can. By the time he gets there, the creature is gone, and he watches as Mateo and Espi leap down from a new and giant gaping hole in the middle of it. He flies at them, gathering them in his arms and just letting himself bask for a few seconds in the fact that they're both here and alive.
Now he just needs to get them back to the barn. The trip does not go as smoothly as he might hope.
One of the creatures comes back. There's no telling what sound might have done it, or maybe it just never got very far in the first place after whatever lured it away from the silo. Keeping Espi and Mateo behind him, Cassian holds still as stone at the edge of the cornfield while it stalks around and they listen to the clicking noises it makes, like it's trying to pinpoint exactly where they are. He's almost afraid to breathe, and he can feel Mateo trembling behind him.
In the distance the corn rustles, and Cassian knows there's a second one on the way. The first one leaps onto the roof of the nearby shed and shrieks. He turns himself just enough to see his children and makes sure his hands are in Espi's line of sight.
Barn. Safe room. Espi's eyes widen and she grabs her brother's hand, her jaw tight and shaking. Cassian gestures at himself. Distraction.
Espi furiously shakes her head. Cassian grits his teeth. You must. Your mother is there. Please.
He looks up towards where he knows the camera is angled close to the shed, because he knows Jyn is watching. I love you. I'm sorry.
Mateo grabs his hand and Cassian squeezes it once, then pulls it away, looking between them both and memorizing their faces. He hands Espi the gun. Go. Now. I love you.
He doesn't wait for them to argue again, just pushes them along in the sand path before running in the opposite direction himself. He grabs one of the tools from the shed and throws it hard into the cornfield, where the sharp edge whips through the leaves and lands with a thud in the dirt.
Espi and Mateo are already halfway to the barn by the time the creature leaps from the shed's roof, hellbent on finding the sound. It whips by Cassian in the rush for the cornfield, and the claws swipe hard against his back. He tumbles to the ground and rolls into the corn.
Biting back every urge to scream, Espi lifts up a rock and throws it in the opposite direction of her father, but she doesn't stop running, doesn't stop pulling her brother behind her, their beeline for the barn quiet and quick enough to make both their parents proud.
Jyn should stay off her feet, she should lay down and recover from giving birth in traumatic circumstances less than an hour ago. She doesn't, she can't. She keeps pacing, keeps nursing, keeps watching the monitors for any sign of her family. It feels like hours, like days, that her eyes spend skating over the screens, trying to will her family alive.
She finally finds them, standing at the edge of the cornfield, sees Cassian arguing with Espi -- arguing, she knows, because she recognizes the sharp, stubborn movements of their daughter, the same defiance in her stance as when she and Jyn had argued earlier in the day. She watches, clutching their daughter, as he faces the camera.
"No." He tells her he loves her and she shakes her head, refusing to accept it. "No!" Espi and Mateo start running and Jyn still can't look away, half watching the children, half watching Cassian. She sees Cassian go down and suddenly she's running, sprinting across the basement, hurling herself and the baby out of the bulkhead to meet her children on the path.
Mateo overtakes his sister and barrels into Jyn's legs, clutching at his mother as Espi catches up, eyes widening at the tiny bundle still in her mother's arms. Jyn gestures them both further down the path toward the barn, gently taking the gun out of her daughters hands and pushing her brand new sister into her arms instead. Get back to the barn. Espi nods and it breaks Jyn's heart to see tears slipping down her cheeks, trying to offer a reassuring smile. It's weak. I'm so proud of you.
Espi's expression crumples, but she doesn't make a noise, nodding as she reaches out for Mateo's hand, pulling him back from Jyn so their mother can raise the gun as they start moving toward the barn again.
He blacks out. He's not sure for how long, all he knows is that when his eyes flutter open again, it's still nighttime, his shirt is soaked with blood, and somehow he is still alive. He doesn't dare move, no matter how much his back is in agony. He doesn't know the extent of his injury. He doesn't know if moving will make it worse and finish him off anyway.
Instead he does what he's done best for almost two years. He listens.
It's quiet.
It means his family is inside. That's the only thing he will accept. He doesn't know how the noise of his collapse went unnoticed, but he doesn't give himself time to think about something else having made a louder noise.
Biting into his lip, Cassian tries to roll onto his side, the one with the least amount of damage. It takes a very long time and searing effort given he's laying in the edge of the corn. He doesn't know how much time passes before he's sitting upright, the slow and careful process of rolling himself out of the corn and into the grass and trying to make the least amount of noise.
If he can get to the sand, he can follow the trail home. He wonders briefly if he should. What if he falls, makes a sound, lures the creatures back to the barn?
There's a screech in the distance, but it's away from the house. He can't tell how far, but it's enough to motivate him to make it to the sand. Once he's there, it just seems... easier, to somehow get himself standing now that he's on the path. He can't crawl, what if there's a dragging sound? If he's going to try and get to the house, he needs to walk there, on bare and careful feet.
He falls once and stays on the ground for a good five minutes, waiting and listening, but nothing bursts from the corn. He can't seem to stand again after, resigning himself to crawling and ignoring the smattering of blood patches in his wake while he practically drags himself that final stretch to the barn.
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ohnofeelstho2018-04-12 11:54 pm
silence is a fragile thing, one loud noise, and its gone
It's a long walk back to the farmhouse, no thanks to the very close call with the former neighbor. It was all he could do but lift Mateo and run, ticking down the slow seconds in the nook of the tree while they waited in silence for the creature to finish its murder and leave. He covers Mateo's mouth while his son covers his own ears, and he does his best to shield him from the sounds of it. There's only so much he could do, but he wishes it were more.
It's after dusk by the time they approach the farm, walking carefully on the white sanded pathways. Mateo slips his hand up and winds their fingers together, and Cassian squeezes it. He refilled the paths the other day, insuring extra silence, just like together he and Jyn have created a house made for moving around in the quiet. The painted trail on the floors, marking the safe spots to step in the creaky hallway. The lights strung up around between the house, the barn, the silo, each color with a different meaning. Inside, the soft carpets, the pillows in every nook and cranny. No plates or silverware: they eat their food off other foods, a tray of lettuce, a bowl of bread. The soundproof basement, always an idea but suddenly a necessity when Jyn got pregnant.
He climbs over the last hill and freezes at the top, feeling Mateo stiffen beside him. The lights are red.
Cassian can feel the panic racing up his spine, and he immediately starts running, kicking off the cool sand against his bare feet. Mateo struggles to keep up, and Cassian skids them to a halt at a fork on the sand.
The rocket, he signs. You have to, you can do this, I believe in you. For your mother, you need to help her. It takes a little arguing and encouragement, but his son rushes off and Cassian makes a beeline for the workshop, as quickly as possible grabbing the gun as he makes his way back towards the house. Each step he pretends the lights aren't red. That he's just walking home. That nothing is waiting for him inside, but better safe (and silent) than sorry has been their mantra for almost two years.
Mateo will set off the rocket. Espi will be with Jyn. There will be nothing he needs to shoot.
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Nothing prepared her for giving birth in silence.
It's too soon, but she knows it isn't too soon. The baby will be fine, alive, loud, and it's probably knowing that, the stress of that, that starts the labor in the first place. Espi had gone to the stream to help her brother and Cassian bring back the fish, begrudging, and Jyn finds herself almost grateful to be alone with her pain until she realizes she's alone. She's alone and she has to do this all on her own and there isn't a hospital she can go to for an epidural. The pain seems worse for not having an outlet, the contractions so painful she almost collapses and crashes into a framed photo on the wall. It feels like slow motion watching the frame hit the floor, the glass breaking, the frame cracking like thunder.
She's on her own but Cassian has drilled this plan into her head: they'll set the rocket off, she'll be fine, the baby will be fine. But she's alone and she needs to turn the lights on so he even knows and something is coming because of that picture. It's instinct now to stay silent when she feels the nail tear through her foot, instinct to focus on all she needs to do to fix that -- clean the wound, air the wound, dress the wound, stay off the wound -- so she won't scream, even if something is already coming. She turns the lights on and moves as fast as she can to the bathroom, leaving a trail of blood behind her, tucking herself in the tub as the contractions threaten to overwhelm her.
She can't scream, she can't make a noise, she has to grapple with giving birth to a premature baby, and pray, pray Cassian keeps the kids longer at the stream and they don't come home to the monsters. She never wanted to be alone for this, but if it meant keeping her children safe, of course she would suffer in silence.
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He approaches and slips into the house, eyes wide and ears open for any heavy creaking. His heart hammers away so loudly that he's almost afraid it's echoing; there are new scratches up the walls, torn up furniture, and bloody footprints up the stairs. He doesn't lower the gun, climbing each step with precision. She's fine, she's alive, they're all alive. His stomach bottoms out when he reaches the top and he can't ignore the clawed hole in the wall as he carefully approaches the bathroom, following the bloody prints across the wooden floor. It's hideous. It's deep and aggressive and it means there was a monster in his house.
Gun first, he pushes into the bathroom. Inside, he finds a tub full of blood, and not a single body in sight. For two seconds, he swears his heart stops beating, and he feels like he's going to hurl. His hands shake while he stares at the tub and his legs collapse beneath him as he sinks slowly to the floor.
His thoughts race in too many directions. Something got her. Got them. All of them. It left. She's hiding. She's gone. They're gone. Jyn is gone. It's hard not to think the worst when every minute of his life since the first creatures appeared has been about avoiding the worst.
He bites at his sleeve to stop the panicked gasp that crawls up his throat and overtakes him. He needs to collect his thoughts, figure out the next strategy, Mateo is still out there, but the ache of failure and grief is overtaking his rationality. Check the house. Check other rooms, half of him whispers, but the other half lives in stronger fear of death and in this moment, he can't combat it.
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What if it comes back? What if it comes back and the baby cries, as babies do.
She'd been consumed by guilt from the start when she realized she was pregnant but now she feels like she's drowning in it. How dare they bring a child into this world? At least Espi and Mateo had lives before the world went to shit, they knew peace and laughter and raucous, gleeful childhoods. This baby--
She stops thinking when she hears a noise in the bathroom, cradling the infant to her chest, hoping she isn't smothering the newborn with the blankets meant to muffle any noises a newborn doesn't know how to stifle. The silence from the other creature in the room is what clues her into the fact that it isn't one of the monsters. It's a person who knows well enough to stay quiet. Maybe Espi turned back so she wouldn't get fish guts on her hands again. Maybe Mateo ran away from Cassian and ignored the lights. No, both of them would be making more noise, even unintentionally. She knows what the room looks like, all the blood...
Her hand slips across the floor of the shower, hitting the door with a faint thud. "Cassian."
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Cassian nearly leaps out of his skin, spinning the gun around, but two seconds later he hears a whisper of his name. His name.
He doesn't drop the gun, that would be too loud, but he discards it almost carelessly as he scrambles towards the shower, sliding the door open as careful as he can rush it.
Curled up inside is Jyn, with a tiny bundle in her arms, and the pure relief that soars through him burns out all the grief and anger, even if it doesn't kick out any of the tears. He pushes himself up and leans over the ledge, reaching for her face and cradling it with both hands.
"Jyn," it's the faintest of sounds, barely audible, but she is alive and he's touching her, he can see her moving and breathing and she's holding their child, buried under blankets to muffle the sounds a newborn makes. He can't see them and he wants to, desperately, but it can't be risked. He leans in, the ledge of the door digging into his stomach, but he presses his forehead to hers and breathes her in. Two seconds later he kisses her, a desperate yet soft push of his lips to hers.
It's still not safe, but he needs this reassurance before he can get himself back into gear. Maybe he still needs that minute, if not a few more seconds.
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Her chest feels tight, trying to contain the emotions. She'd wept when Espi was born, laughed when Mateo was placed in her arms, she's not allowed to do either with this one, not if she wants the newborn to survive.
It's not fair.
Jyn uses her grip on his arm to push him back a bit so she can see him, eyes skating over him, checking for injuries before she uses that same one hand to form her hand into a recognizable motion.
The children? She doesn't waste time with any other questions, only the simple, one handed sign searching for her babies. Where are Espi and Mateo, are they safe. He has to go find them again and make sure they're okay, but she needs to know they were okay when he last saw them. One moment at a time is all she can deal with.
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Some of the relief edges away as worry slips in when she asks about the children. She doesn't know where Espi is. He'd thought maybe she was hiding away, that Jyn had sent her elsewhere once the creature came to the house. He brushes some of the hair from her face, then pulls back one of his own hands to sign two words. Him. Rocket.
There's a puzzled screech from outside, but he knows not even that would be enough to distract Jyn from the fact that he hasn't mentioned their daughter. The baby gives off the tiniest of whines under the blankets and Cassian stiffens.
He lets go of her to use both hands to speak next, keeping his body leaning in close and trying to swallow down the panic that neither of them know where Espi is. We can't stay here.
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Easy to Love, Difficult to Discipline. The Strong Willed Child. Scream Free Parenting. The last one still surprisingly relevant.
They can't stay, he's right, and Jyn doesn't bother fighting him, curling her arm tighter around the impossibly small infant as she braces her other hand on the door frame, wincing as she struggles to her feet, feeling pain explode around her midsection. It at least dulls the pain from her foot, so that's always nice. Especially considering the happy hormones that make childbirth a fuzzy, gauzy memory of only the happiness of holding her precious baby are nowhere to be found.
Two hands are necessary to ask for help, but the way Jyn tips into Cassian, forehead pressing against his shoulder is sign enough that there is no way in hell she is going to be able to go quietly.
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Watching the way Jyn winces in pain, Cassian springs to action. There's no way this is going to happen easily, he knows that, just like there's no way she's going to be able to move without sound. She probably only made it from the tub to the shower because of the fireworks.
As quietly as he can, he maneuvers himself around and wedges his arms around hers and her back. He helps her to her feet, slowly, carefully, and somehow he manages to get her up without any noise. He doesn't help her out of the shower. He lifts her out of it. Once he's standing on the bathroom floor with Jyn and baby in his arms, he spares a moment to just... hold her. He avoids her midsection as best he can, scooping his arms around her shoulders and legs.
But it's only a moment. He kisses her temple and carries his wife and baby out of the bathroom, heart pounding while he listens. Always listening, always on guard.
The baby whines again, tiny little hungry sounds, and Cassian moves a little faster, slipping down the stairs in silence as quickly as he can without hurting Jyn. It's going to carry. The fireworks have ended, though he isn't sure when, the sounds of their newborn are now the loudest. He tiptoes towards the door and outside, where the lights are still red, leading the way across the sand path towards the barn with their special soundproof basement.
Its not far. They can do this. He can do this, he can get her there, then find Espi and Mateo.
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Espi is smart, she knows what to do because they'd taught her what to do and they'd taught Mateo and even if Espi didn't go to the silo for her own good, she would always go to protect her brother. Jyn has to believe in that.
She tries to be less of a dead weight against Cassian but the reality isn't quite so easy. She knows the baby is hungry, needing to eat, but she can't exactly maneuver to feed at the moment, try as she might. She can't do it at least without pulling back more of the blankets and what little is peeled back for air is already too much, too loud. All she can do is hope that the movement of Cassian carrying them both will be as soothing as being rocked and the baby will fall asleep, but that doesn't seem to be how this day is going to go. This day is going to wring her dry.
Their children are smart and brave and wonderful, just like their father, they will protect each other and they will all come back to her. They have to, they must.
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He can hear the creatures in the distance, and he breaks into a jog. It might be too much on Jyn, but better a little more pain than no pain because they've been killed. The blankets muffle the baby, but it's not perfect; he can hear it, which means so can they. He might be moving faster to outrun the creatures, but it's not a very soothing pace for the infant who's already also dealing with hunger. There's another screech and Cassian hurries along even faster, the barn so close yet so far.
One of the aliens bursts out of the corn just as he skids into the barn. He kicks over the mattress and climbs down the ladder with them in his arms. He hurries Jyn to her feet, knowing full well she might not be able to stand, but he has to get the mattress sealed back over the hatchway. He yanks it just as the creature comes barreling into the barn, and he slides the trapdoor shut too, bolting it.
It thrashes above them, but the room has been built to keep any of their sounds from traveling out. At least that was the goal. It's never been tested so earnestly. Once the top door is secure, he hurries over to Jyn where she's struggling with the baby box.
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"I have to feed her."
She knows the plan, but every instinct and every hormone in her poor body is begging to feed her child, even if logic tells her it's too dangerous right now, even if she knows they just need a few seconds of quiet to be sure that the soundproofing is working, that the creature is abandoning them. Her fingers fumble uselessly, still clutching the baby protectively to her chest, some of the blankets fallen away to show a shock of dark hair and ten tiny fingers and toes stretching and flexing as their newborn daughter gets used to life in this terrible reality.
This was not how Cassian was meant to meet his newborn child.
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He holds up his finger to his mouth and shakes his head, ushering them both to the handmade cradle that seems more like a prison than a bed. It's just a few minutes. They just need to be quiet enough that another sound will make the creatures leave. Later, she can be fed later.
Cassian moves Jyn's arms and helps her settle the baby inside the heavily cushioned space, hooking her up to the oxygen tank. He covers it up with the lid, feeling his heart breaking at how it seems like they're sealing the newborn away, knowing she needs to eat, she needs their affection, but more than that, she needs to be alive. The box virtually muffles all the crying, and the walls around them should keep everything else on mute even more. He's done every single thing he could to make sure this room is safe.
Once the baby is inside, he pulls Jyn to him and helps her keep upright, too afraid to move anymore. He stands with her next to the box, holding her against him and cradling her head while the creature continues wrecking havoc above them.
It's a minute, maybe two. But eventually, slowly, they can hear it leaving and silence once again fills the rooms above them. Even so, it still takes Cassian another minute or so to move, paranoia taking precedence.
He pulls away to look at his wife, staring at her tired, wonderful, beautiful face, and despite everything terrible about this day - they're alive. All three of them are alive, and the basement is soundproof. The creature didn't hear them.
"It worked," he whispers.
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She appreciates Cassian's determination to wait until he is sure that the creature is gone because it means she can at least make a weak attempt at getting ahold of herself. It is a failed attempt but she nods all the same. It worked, he made it work.
"Avie." Short for Aviana, what Mateo would have been called had he been a girl. Would have been Espi's name if they both hadn't agreed the alliteration of Aviana Andor made her sound like a superhero. Maybe what she needs right now is to be a superhero. It certainly can't hurt. Jyn looks up at Cassian, heartbroken that neither of them are holding their daughter, but determined at the same time. If anyone can protect an infant in this time, it's Cassian. She would never want to do this with anyone else.
"The kids."
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He kisses her head again, once, twice, three times, before he hears her say the name. He meets her eyes and offers a very timid smile. Aviana. It feels so perfect a name right now, alliteration or otherwise. Avie Andor, safe in her box, safe beneath the walls he designed to keep them all safe.
The kids, she says, and his chest tightens. "You need to sit," he replies, gently maneuvering her over to the bed and helping her lay down on it.
"Mateo knows where to go. Espi will have seen the fireworks and gone to him." He sits beside Jyn, brushing his fingers over her cheek. He doesn't want to leave her, but he already knows he's going to, because his children are still out there. Despite knowing the room works, he can't help but keep talking in a tone barely above a whisper. Two years of rarely using his voice aren't going to be overrun by a single room. "I am going to get them and bring them here, and they will get to meet their new sister. I promise."
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One minute to breathe before she has to get back to work.
"What if she didn't see them?" Jyn doesn't usually voice her biggest fears, that the same ability that saved their family -- Espi's deafness gave them a leg up communicating silently -- might cause harm to their now eldest daughter. Espi is as observant and perceptive as her father, but as reckless and stubborn as her mother. Jyn doesn't want her own influence to win out and get Espi hurt if she doesn't hear something coming.
It's his promise that sways her, in any case. Throughout their entire relationship he'd always been cautious about making promises he couldn't keep, they both had. He's promising her now and she trusts that, trusts him to do every single thing in his power to protect their babies.
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Cassian winds his free hand through Jyn's, squeezing her fingers. His other hand is still cradling her face, and he gets a look of very grim determination on her face. "They were very big fireworks. We have taught her to always look around."
It's a reminder to himself too. Their eldest is all the best and worst qualities of them both, but it makes her even stronger. She can't hear, she can't tell when she's making a noise, but she knows the safe places to go. She wouldn't have strayed too far and left her mother alone.
"If she did not go to the silo, she cannot have gone far." He pulls up Jyn's hand and kisses her knuckles, closing his eyes and leaving his lips against her skin to collect himself. It's a very risky promise and he knows that, but he also knows their children. It's a plan they've gone over a million times. Espi may be stubborn and defiant, but she isn't stupid. He's confident in this promise, because the alternative is unthinkable.
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She'll be fine until he gets back, but she can't do this on her own. She won't. That remains unspoken but she knows he knows. They'd read On The Beach together. This is not a life she is ever going to survive without Cassian and their children, she won't put Avie through that. She can't. It would be impossible to protect and raise an infant on her own in this kind of world.
She needs Cassian and their children, they have to come back to her.
"I love you, Cassian Andor."
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He understands what she means, that unspoken implication. He grappled with it however briefly already today, when he'd thought she'd been killed by one of the creatures. The world was bleak and hopeless and impossible, and only the thought of his children stopped him from screaming right then and there.
Cassian ducks his head towards hers and kisses her sweetly, lingering not out of passion but just being close. "I love you too, Jyn Erso-Andor." He cracks a tiny smile about her name and runs his thumb over her cheek. "More than anything. They will come home to you. And so will I."
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"I know you will, you always have." The only stability in her entire life and he became her life. Her mother had tried and tried to teach her to trust and have faith, but it took meeting this incredible man when he was just a gangly teenage boy for her to really even understand what trust was. He always kept his promises, he always came home to her, he always made her smile when she wanted to scream. For all the horror, if she had to choose between this life with Cassian and a peaceful life without him?
She would choose Cassian every time.
"Go." She releases their clasped hands, lifting her hand to flatten her palm against his cheek, fingers splaying against the familiar scruff of his beard. "Come home soon."
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They are alive and together, and sometimes that's all Cassian could ask for. It's what he is fighting for. He would do it a million times, as long as it was Jyn fighting beside him.
He lets go of her very reluctantly, but leans down to kiss her forehead. "Get some rest. Please. You deserve it and more." He climbs to his feet and feels a sense of sadness at their parting, but he cannot leave Espi and Mateo out there without him. "I will see you soon."
He wants to say goodbye to Avie, but he's not sure he'd be able to leave if he looked at her now. He trusts her safety to Jyn and to the walls they made for her in the first place. Before he gets pulled into staying even longer, he moves for the ladder and very carefully opens up the trapdoor once he's sure there's nothing waiting above him.
With a final look at Jyn, he closes it shut behind him and scrambles out of the barn on silent feet.
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She counts to thirty once he's gone, listening to make sure he's not attacked, before she gives into the avalanche of overwhelming emotions and breaks down again -- before he brings the kids back. She can't break down in front of them so she allows herself the luxury now, still stifling the sound of her sobs in the pillow out of habit. It does little to soften the well of anxiety in her belly that never seems to run out of more stress and terror, but it doesn't skim off a measure of hormonal disaster so she feels like can function on at least a basic level.
It's necessary, even if she is exhausted and in pain, she still has to be ready.
She cleans herself up, trying not to cover all of their towels in blood. She cleans and bandages her foot. She cleans Avie finally, pins a diaper on her, wraps her up in blankets and feeds her while she waits, pacing in front of Cassian's surveillance monitors, trying to spot the rest of her family.
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There's a commotion at the silo when he's about halfway there, and he runs as quickly as he can. By the time he gets there, the creature is gone, and he watches as Mateo and Espi leap down from a new and giant gaping hole in the middle of it. He flies at them, gathering them in his arms and just letting himself bask for a few seconds in the fact that they're both here and alive.
Now he just needs to get them back to the barn. The trip does not go as smoothly as he might hope.
One of the creatures comes back. There's no telling what sound might have done it, or maybe it just never got very far in the first place after whatever lured it away from the silo. Keeping Espi and Mateo behind him, Cassian holds still as stone at the edge of the cornfield while it stalks around and they listen to the clicking noises it makes, like it's trying to pinpoint exactly where they are. He's almost afraid to breathe, and he can feel Mateo trembling behind him.
In the distance the corn rustles, and Cassian knows there's a second one on the way. The first one leaps onto the roof of the nearby shed and shrieks. He turns himself just enough to see his children and makes sure his hands are in Espi's line of sight.
Barn. Safe room. Espi's eyes widen and she grabs her brother's hand, her jaw tight and shaking. Cassian gestures at himself. Distraction.
Espi furiously shakes her head. Cassian grits his teeth. You must. Your mother is there. Please.
He looks up towards where he knows the camera is angled close to the shed, because he knows Jyn is watching. I love you. I'm sorry.
Mateo grabs his hand and Cassian squeezes it once, then pulls it away, looking between them both and memorizing their faces. He hands Espi the gun. Go. Now. I love you.
He doesn't wait for them to argue again, just pushes them along in the sand path before running in the opposite direction himself. He grabs one of the tools from the shed and throws it hard into the cornfield, where the sharp edge whips through the leaves and lands with a thud in the dirt.
Espi and Mateo are already halfway to the barn by the time the creature leaps from the shed's roof, hellbent on finding the sound. It whips by Cassian in the rush for the cornfield, and the claws swipe hard against his back. He tumbles to the ground and rolls into the corn.
Biting back every urge to scream, Espi lifts up a rock and throws it in the opposite direction of her father, but she doesn't stop running, doesn't stop pulling her brother behind her, their beeline for the barn quiet and quick enough to make both their parents proud.
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She finally finds them, standing at the edge of the cornfield, sees Cassian arguing with Espi -- arguing, she knows, because she recognizes the sharp, stubborn movements of their daughter, the same defiance in her stance as when she and Jyn had argued earlier in the day. She watches, clutching their daughter, as he faces the camera.
"No." He tells her he loves her and she shakes her head, refusing to accept it. "No!" Espi and Mateo start running and Jyn still can't look away, half watching the children, half watching Cassian. She sees Cassian go down and suddenly she's running, sprinting across the basement, hurling herself and the baby out of the bulkhead to meet her children on the path.
Mateo overtakes his sister and barrels into Jyn's legs, clutching at his mother as Espi catches up, eyes widening at the tiny bundle still in her mother's arms. Jyn gestures them both further down the path toward the barn, gently taking the gun out of her daughters hands and pushing her brand new sister into her arms instead. Get back to the barn. Espi nods and it breaks Jyn's heart to see tears slipping down her cheeks, trying to offer a reassuring smile. It's weak. I'm so proud of you.
Espi's expression crumples, but she doesn't make a noise, nodding as she reaches out for Mateo's hand, pulling him back from Jyn so their mother can raise the gun as they start moving toward the barn again.
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Instead he does what he's done best for almost two years. He listens.
It's quiet.
It means his family is inside. That's the only thing he will accept. He doesn't know how the noise of his collapse went unnoticed, but he doesn't give himself time to think about something else having made a louder noise.
Biting into his lip, Cassian tries to roll onto his side, the one with the least amount of damage. It takes a very long time and searing effort given he's laying in the edge of the corn. He doesn't know how much time passes before he's sitting upright, the slow and careful process of rolling himself out of the corn and into the grass and trying to make the least amount of noise.
If he can get to the sand, he can follow the trail home. He wonders briefly if he should. What if he falls, makes a sound, lures the creatures back to the barn?
There's a screech in the distance, but it's away from the house. He can't tell how far, but it's enough to motivate him to make it to the sand. Once he's there, it just seems... easier, to somehow get himself standing now that he's on the path. He can't crawl, what if there's a dragging sound? If he's going to try and get to the house, he needs to walk there, on bare and careful feet.
He falls once and stays on the ground for a good five minutes, waiting and listening, but nothing bursts from the corn. He can't seem to stand again after, resigning himself to crawling and ignoring the smattering of blood patches in his wake while he practically drags himself that final stretch to the barn.
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