Offers breakfast (stupid timezones) including famous german bread and tea, a quote (“I don’t really know what I love you means. I think it means don’t leave me here alone. ” Neil Gaiman or “I feel very strongly that I love you more than you imagine, more than I thought possible” Claude Monet or “When you are fighting the devil you have to dance the devil’s dance” Evelyne Brochu) and as a token of celebration you can either have cake or more Vodka. Or both. Congratulations!

skitzofreak:

(Hey, breakfast, and I love german bread! Thank you, and for the great quotes too! I went with the Neil Gaiman quote, because he’s one of my faves and also it just works so well for rebelcaptain!)

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Jyn wakes up because Cassian is thrashing in his medical bed again, monitors beeping urgently as his heart rate accelerates and his subconscious activity spikes. The droids are already responding, rolling in a practiced dance around his bed, and Jyn grips the railing of her own bed tightly as she watches. After an agonizing three minutes, the drugs kick in and Cassian settles again, although his eyes blink halfway open and his hands clench on his sheets. Fighting the drugs, she thinks with a mix of exasperation and understanding. He really doesn’t like to be drugged, she’s finding. 

She waits a minute longer until the droids roll off, satisfied that the patient is no longer able to harm himself (which just goes to show how little they know him). Then she pulls herself laboriously from her own bed, pushing against sore muscles and exhaustion and her own unpleasant cocktail of medications to rock to her unsteady feet. Cassian hears her, and rolls his head awkwardly to look at her as she staggers across the short distance between them. His eyes are heavy and slightly out of focus, but he still won’t let the drugs pull him under. They won’t give him stronger doses, siting his head injury as too great a danger. Jyn presses her lips together and doesn’t tell them that he would clearly rather be in pain than be caught in this half-haze, this uncertain fog of his nightmares and his sluggish body. Hells, it frightens her, too, and she’s not even the one all fucked up and lost in it.

She makes it to his bed and leans against the side until he makes a vague grab for her hand, as close to an invitation as he can offer or that she needs. Even more carefully than she pulled herself out of her own bed, Jyn pulls herself into his. The first night she had tried this, the medical staff had pitched a fit in the morning, and done dozens of tests on both of them to make sure they hadn’t pulled their IVs loose or cross-contaminated or whatever, Jyn hadn’t been listening. But the second morning, the head doctor had bustled in, taken one look at them tangled in Cassian’s narrow bed, and then bustled back out again. Within an hour, a wookie-sized medical bed had been rolled in, Cassian had been transferred onto it, and the head doctor had patted Jyn’s arm as he checked her over. He’d also handed her a datapad full of books on trauma therapy. She hasn’t read it yet, but if Cassian keeps shouting himself awake, she might give them a shot. It’s not like she has better things to be doing at the moment.

Well, at this exact moment, yes, she does, because crawling into the big medical bed takes up all her focus and effort, and then situating herself around all his IVs and monitor hookups and thin, tangled sheets is harder than it should be. But she gets there, eventually, on her side and curled up against Cassian’s shoulder, his hand gripping her knee when she shifts it against his hip. She slides her hand under his neck as delicately as she can and wraps both arms around his shoulders, and only then does he sigh and let his eyes fall closed.

In the morning, the doctor who checks on them will shake her head and pull back the sheet to check their driplines, and she won’t say anything about Jyn’s intrusion but she will poke and prod at Cassian and generally make a nuisance of herself until Jyn slowly disentangles and moves back to her own bed without a word. That’s been their routine for roughly five days, and Jyn anticipates it will carry on for a few more yet. She’ll be cleared before he is, and no doubt they will want her out of medical to make room for someone else. That’s alright, though, she knows how to slice through the old locks they have in this ward, and there’s still enough space in his bed for her. And though he doesn’t say it, the way Cassian relaxes against her tells her all she needs to know about her welcome there.

Jyn nuzzles against his neck and closes her own eyes. There is no one here to see her, no one to judge her, no one to threaten her.  The beeping of the monitors soft and slow around her, his heartbeat steady and warm against her, and his breathing slowing at last as he slips at last into sleep. Jyn takes a deep breath, pushes away any thoughts of tomorrow, and follows him there.