fuck yeah sniperpilot!

Bodhi sighed and looked down at his watch for a second time, vowing to kill Jyn with every minute that passed. He couldn’t believe she had talked him into doing this, couldn’t believe he had agreed, and he couldn’t believe he was getting stood up. The waiter had taken to giving him sympathetic looks and Bodhi did not care for that shit at all. 

Sighing again, Bodhi took a sip of his drink and brought out his wallet, determined to pay his bill and leave with his dignity intact.

“Oh no way, Bodhi?” a voice questioned, causing Bodhi to stiffen in his seat. He slowly turned around and stared at the man behind him. Cassian Andor stood unsurely behind him, looking as effortlessly beautiful as he did the last time he’d seen him.

Bodhi’s mood soured even further.

“Cassian,” he nodded. Placing money on the table to cover his drink and the tip, Bodhi rose and turned to leave.

“Hey! Wait up!” Cassian exclaimed, hurrying to Bodhi’s side. Bodhi rolled his eyes and opened the restaurant’s door and cursed. Of course, it would start raining. Cassian chuckled softly, pulled out an umbrella from who knows where, and smiled at Bodhi.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Bodhi bit his lips and glanced to the side, gaze slowly turning back to Cassian.

“I dunno, are you gonna walk out on me again this time?” The smile slipped off of Cassian’s face and Bodhi almost felt bad. Almost. 

“Shit Bodhi, I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for bailing? Or sorry for not calling?” And shit, Bodhi told himself he wasn’t ever going to bring it up. He shook his head, zipped up his jacket and walked out into the rain. Cassian cursed somewhere behind him and ran up to meet him, covering the both of them with the umbrella. 

“I’m sorry about both. I just-I figured you wouldn’t want anything to do with me after I left. I didn’t think it was-”

“a big deal?” Bodhi scoffed, turning his head and walking just a little bit faster. Cassian kept up easily, his slightly longer legs helping him out.

“I didn’t think it was as big a deal for you as it was for me. Besides you didn’t call me back either.” Cassian remarked and Bodhi sighed and looked away. He had a point there. The kept walking, both of them silent for a minute. 

“Where does that leave us then?” Bodhi asked, both terrified of the answer and wanting to know what the other man thought. He couldn’t deny wanting to hang out with Cassian again, couldn’t deny how good it felt to be around him.

“I lo-like you Bodhi. Always have.” Cassian shrugged and Bodhi had to take a minute to actually process what the other man said. They stopped, alone on a sidewalk somewhere between the restaurant and Bodhi’s house.

“I-what?” Cassian chuckled softly, his other hand slowly rising to move a lock of Bodhi’s hair behind his ear. The hand lingered on his cheek and Bodhi couldn’t deny the way his heart beat just a bit faster.

“I said,” Cassian whispered, eyes flickering between Bodhi’s lips and his eyes, “I like you Bodhi Rook.” 

“Oh,” Bodhi exhaled, “I thought I heard that.” Cassian chuckled and moved to say something else, but Bodhi grabbed the hand on his wrist and kissed it once. Cassian blinked, blush fierce on his cheeks and it was Bodhi’s turn to chuckle. He moved closer to the other man, cupped his face in his hands, and kissed him soundly on the lips. The umbrella slipped out of Cassian’s hands, both of them becoming soaked by the rain. Neither of them paid any attention to it, both too wrapped up in the other. 

They separated, both with a silly little grin on their faces.

“Would you maybe,” Bodhi began grin growing wider as Cassian moved his hair out of his face, “want to go out to dinner sometime?” Cassian pressed a kiss on Bodhi’s knuckles and grinned.

He’s three when it shows up on his skin. A small flower on the inside of his wrist, wobbly and misshapen but a flower nonetheless. It’s dark, a stark contrast to his lightly tanned skin and Cassian can barely breathe around the tight feeling in his chest. He runs home to his mama, eyes squinting with the force of his smile and laughs in delight when his father picks him up and spins him around in the air. That night, under the bright glow of the moon, Cassian traces the flower on his skin and vows to do whatever he can to meet his soulmate.

Little vines swirl around his fingers, words in a language he doesn’t know appearing and disappearing on his palms. Sometimes there’re names, names of people and places, of descriptions the he neither knows nor understands. His soulmate has beautiful handwriting, Cassian decides, staring at the looping calligraphy on the inside of his arm. The writing moves like the wind, whispy and colorful, fun and inviting and Cassian can do nothing but stare in awe as they appear on his skin like they’re made to be there.

Sometimes he writes back, hesitant and afraid of a far off rejection he isn’t sure he’d survive. His writing is choppy, slant and broken off, soft and sharp like ice and snow. Cassian stares at the snow surrounding his home and wonders what it’d be like to be somewhere warm.

He’s seven, staring ahead of him as his mama holds him close to her chest and whispers reassurances on his head. Her words flow past him, slinking off his vibrating frame like water. Cassian breathes deep, eyes wide open, tears refusing to trail down his face. Slowly, almost mechanically, he raises his arms and wraps them around his mama. 

That night, he stares at the looping handwriting that appears on his skin, looks at the way they curl softly on the unfamiliar letters and feels the icy tundra that hold his emotions thaw just a little. He breathes deep and turns away from the writing and closes his eyes. 

Cassian doesn’t acknowledge the way his pulse speeds up when he sees a small heart on the back of his hand, like a kiss, featherlight and warm in ways he thought he’d never be.

His mama looks up as he enters the living room, eyes bloodshot but fierce and burning like a thousand golden suns. She hugs him close a second time, muttering soft reassurances in their mother tongue before pulling away. Her eyes search his, looking deep into his soul like she’d always been able to and Cassian watches as she grits her teeth and nods.

Ice grips his chest even as his veins sing with fire. Cassian nods back and the universe falls away until it’s his mama, him, and his soulmates words etched onto his skin. 

He learns much in the years that follow, learns to be watchful, to move around like a shroud in the darkness, to become one with his surroundings and observe. Cassian learns, and he adapts and he grows.

The writing on his fingertips slow, become jerky and filled with emotion, Basic fluttering along the edges of the familiarly unfamiliar language. Cassian doesn’t write back much, afraid that his soulmate would reject who he is, who he’d become.

His mother assures him, each time she catches him thinking such thoughts. Her voice, a soft firelight curls around his soul and warms him from the inside out. 

“There’s no reason why your soulmate wouldn’t love you Cassian. Your hope fills the room, warms the bite of wind and soothes the harsh wind. Hope, Cassian, builds. It’s the backbone of resistance, and it too is the foundation of love.” Her eyes cloud and Cassian knows exactly who she’s talking about.

He’s eleven when his mother disappears. She burns and burns, bright like a supernova and fights with everything she has. His mother is a storm, catastrophic to all who are not under her eye. Until she isn’t anymore, until there’s nothing left but the bite of wind and a flicker of a candle.

That night, alone in a home that’s slowly feeling like a prison, Cassian writes the phrase “rebellions are built on hope” one the inside of his arm. He writes it first in Festian, and then in Basic, the letters smooshed against the inside of his forearm. He kisses them once, twice, three times, cementing them into his mind. 

The next day, he finds himself joining the rebellion, mouth closed and heart grieving.

Rebellions are built on hope. 

The moon is covered behind thick clouds as Cassian cuts his way through the forest. His eyes flash for a suitable hiding place, an area to lay low for a while. Imperial troops advance behind him, their boots crunching against the dry leaves. Cassian breaths deep and hides, his blaster in his hands and the familiar words against his lips.

Rebellions are built on hope.

His head is tilted up, face wiped clean of expression, although if anyone dares to look into his eyes they’d see. They’d see the guilt and shame and the burning, molten hope that sears through his veins and sings in his soul.

Rebellions are built on hope.

His soulmate writes back too, short phrases that are jagged, bent around the edges. It’s a drastic change from the soft loopy handwriting it used to be and a part of Cassian grieves because he knows, he knows what it could mean. He cherishes the moments the loopy handwriting comes back, holds them close to his lips and re-reads the words that make them.

His soulmate likes to write names a lot, names that are longer and more complicated, or names that are short and to the point. There are three names that show up a lot though and Cassian knows they’re important. 

Asha Rook, Yusuf Rook, Naima Rook. They’re written in the loopy handwriting, moving across his wrist like a wave and weaving through his skin like it’s meant to be there. Whenever these names show up on his skin, Cassian replies back. Short and to the point.

María Andor. A piece of him settles every time he writes their names, as though his mother is still somehow able to quiet his rage under her storm and bring forth his fierce hope. Cassian breathes and lets himself let go.

Sometimes the words appear on his hands like water, calm and soothing, cool and refreshing. Other times they appear, burning and searing, making Cassian grit his teeth and hold his breath as the words cut into his skin and bleed him dry. There’s so much emotion, turmoil and raw honesty that screams in the messages and Cassian can’t do anything but offer his reassurances.

Don’t give up hope. You are not alone. I’m here. Always.

No one questions why his eyes are bloodshot the next morning.

There are days, where his mind screeches and broadcasts the last time he’d seen his mother. The way her eyes crinkled as she laughed, loud and unrestrained. The soft flutter of her fingers as she played with the cuffs of her sleeves. The way she spoke, smooth and rough in equal measure, like a rock, unshakable and unfathomable in all the ways he counted.

And then she’s gone and Cassian is left untethered.

He rips into his skin, desperate to write anything and everything, words jumbling until all that shows on his body are half thoughts and broken truths. On days like these, where there’re no missions, no distractions, Cassian shuts himself off from the outside world and slowly collapses into himself.

Breathe. You know how to. Breathe and move forward. Hope starts with you and it grows. You can do this. I know you can. 

And he does. Always.

He steals and reprograms a droid, a K2SO unit that he tells himself will be useful to the resistance. It’s not everyday people are able to gain an imperial droid. Kay, Cassian decides, is a little off. There is so much life, so much emotion in him that Cassian is thrown. Still, they’re not close, enough to be comrades on the field, but not enough to be an issue. That is until Jenoport. 

Neither of them speak about it, about Cassian staring lifelessly ahead of him as his mission falls to the floor in a graceless heap. Neither of them bring up the fact that tears steadily cascaded down his cheeks, even as face remained impassive. Neither of them speak about it, but Kay, softly (and wasn’t that a surprise) asks if he’d like to wipe his memory. Cassian refuses on principle.

Joreth. His name was Joreth. 

I’m sorry. Cassian doesn’t reply.

Life moves like it always does, like it did when his father died and his mother disappeared in the night. Cassian makes use of his growing talent, recruiting and working for the rebellion as much as he can. He keeps his hope to his chest, refusing to let it die under the difficult conditions of the war.

Rebellions are built on hope.

His soulmate’s writing grows choppier and choppier as the year passes. The loopy handwriting is no longer visible under shaky letters and jerky words. Cassian breathes in the loss and lets his soulmate know he’s there for him. 

What would you do if you knew something terrible was going to happen but by informing others you’d put your family in danger? Cassian sees the message as it fades, the jumbled words making little sense to him. He forgets about it soon after.

The next day there is word of an imperial pilot defecting. 

Tivik.

His hands shake slightly, heart weeping and chest cold, but Cassian refuses to let it deter him; keeps going like he always does. He chances a look at the informant behind him and keeps moving forward. Ice settles in his chest, reminding him of Fest. Cassian tries to swallow down his nausea, barely succeeding. 

His soulmate doesn’t respond and Cassian tells himself he’s okay with that, even though the knowledge burns through his chest like acid. 

He stares at Jyn, watching the way her body tenses and jaw clenches at each question. She loathes the rebellion; he can see it in the outline of her body, the way her fingers curl and uncurl on her lap. Her gaze sweeps across the room and land on him, exhausted and furious all at once.

Cassian feels a headache settle behind his eyelids once she agrees to join him on his mission.

Galen Erso is to die by his hands. Cassian says nothing for a moment, jaw clenching and unclenching. His hands stay behind his back and his face remains impassive and Cassian keeps his head down because he knows. He knows he’s not ready, that his eyes would give away the crashing storm within him.

The order is given and Cassian nods with a clench of the teeth and a silent scream.

Galen Erso.

Jedha is simultaneously beautiful and heartbreaking. Cassian feels the oppressive weight of the Empire settle onto his bones the minute he enters the city. It’s ugly, oily and crude it slithers into every crevice, attempting to grab onto every single good thing in this world. He breathes, fear and rage causing a bitter taste to enter his mouth. Jedha burns, slow but hot, a stark contrast to the biting wind and cool temperature. It’s people are a firestorm of anger and bent determination.

“NiJedha will never fall, not to these cowards.” A man (guardian, his mind whispers) explains, sightless eyes locking onto his tense frame. A slow, mocking smile, spreads across the man’s face and he chuckles slightly, sitting on a crate a little ways away from them. Another man comes up behind him, shaking his head and cleaning the blaster rifle in his arms. Cassian turns and walks away without comment.

“This place is gonna blow,” he tells Jyn. Jedha is too volatile, too angry, too used to taking care of itself that there is no reason for it not to. It reminds him of Fest, reminds him of his mother’s sharp tongue and fierce anger, of her warm protection and burning hope. Jedhans would bow to no man. Cassian is sure of it.

He’s right and all hell breaks loose. Jyn saves a child in the foray and Cassian looks up and catches sight of an insurgent preparing to throw a bomb and her and a child’s direction. He makes his decision and fires. One life for two. And he lets the loss of life rest on his shoulders.

I never knew his name.

He’s unsurprised to see Kay there, the droid never listened to a single one of his orders he deemed “useless and quite ridiculous” so Cassian merely raises an eyebrow. What catches him by surprise is the two men that come to help out. After the dust settles and all that are left are them, Cassian chances a look at one of them, unsurprised to see the man looking in his direction.

“I told you” he began, face turning as he sits on a stormtrooper’s head “NiJedha will never all, not to these cowards.” Cassian almost finds himself grinning. Almost.

I’m the pilot. The words rip on to his wrist but Cassian doesn’t see it. Instead, insurgents flood the square and blindfold them all and throw him and the two men in the cell. Jyn is escorted to Gerrera and Cassian waits.

I’m the pilot. The words prickle his thigh but Cassian barely twitches, barely notices the faint scratches as he works to push his mind off everything.

“There are so many prisons. So, so many prisons,” the guardian (Chirrut he happily introduces himself) begins, voice pitched low and eyes closed, “I sense you carry yours wherever you go.” Cassian twitches and breathes, pushes down the miasma of guilt and shame that attempt to override his senses.

I’m the pilot. The words are featherlight, a shuddered sigh against his shoulder and Cassian scratches it absentmindedly, the words fading without his knowing. He acknowledges neither of them and the cell is quite for a minute, two until one of them (Baze, if Cassian remembers correctly) hisses “pilot!”

The world tilts and everything changes with a question. 

“Are you the pilot?” Cassian takes in the man’s appearance, notes the rips in his wrists and thigh, the blood speckled along the imperial uniform and hidden under a dirty rag. He breathes.

“Are you the pilot?” He asks again, his hope in his throat and his heart thundering in his ears.

The man turns, slowly and painfully in his direction, mouth open and face twisted into fear. It’s the eyes that get Cassian though, the eyes that suck him in. They burn, fire swirling behind wide brown orbs. Fire licks the edges of the man’s frame, angry and bright, burning with the strength of three suns and Cassian can’t help but be transfixed.

“Yes,” the man says, voice rough but hard and rimmed with steel. It’s sharp, although not confident, as though the man has to piece together who he really is. Cassian doesn’t comment on it, merely asking the man if he knows where Galen Erso is.

“Eadu,” the man whispers, sitting upright as though something occurs to him. His eyes blaze, challenging, as though waiting for Cassian to not believe him. But he does, he does. There’s no reason why, no understanding what made him agree so quickly, but he does and that’s all that matters. The Pilot stares at him, eyes going supernova and Cassian believes.

Silence falls as they watch Jedha collapse onto itself. Cassian says nothing, expression twisted into a grimace as Jedha breaks into pieces, fire and rock decimating the entire planet. The planet killer is real and Cassian feels a little bit of his hope dying.

Rebellions are built on hope? The phrase pulses on his palm and Cassian’s lips quirk into a smile. Jyn brings tales of a way to destroy The Planet Killer and Cassian feels his heart leap with joy, although the emotion is largely dampened with the knowledge that she is the only to see it. 

“Rebellions,” his mother whispers, fingers carding through his hair, “are built on the backs of soldiers that believe. Have faith, my son, and everything will go as it should.”

Cassian refuses to let his hope die.

Galen Erso. His name is Galen Erso. He scratches the words onto his forearm, wondering, not for the first time, what his soulmate is doing. He wonders, in a universe where he isn’t a rebel if he’d ever meet them, wonders what they’d be like, wonders if they’d accept him all. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, when all he has for company are his thoughts and regrets, Cassian wonders what it’d be like if his soulmate rejects him.

He refuses to think about it for long.

They land on Eadu and Cassian nods for the pilot (Bodhi, the man introduces himself) to follow him, grabbing the blaster on his way out. Bodhi talks the entire way up, words fluttering and floating around them as the pilot rambles. Cassian lets him, lets the pilot work his way through whatever’s on his mind, lets him speak as quickly and as slowly as he liked. His speech is frayed, coming apart as the seams. Words too heavy on his tongue are dropped, sliding to the floor in a wet thump as he continues. 

‘How long,’ he thinks, glancing slightly at Bodhi, noticing the numerous cuts and burns along his body, “how long were you with him? How long until you thought you’d break?’ He says nothing, lets Bodhi destress the only way he knows how. Bodhi trips for the third time and they stop, Cassian waving away the man’s sheepish look. 

Time slows, like it never does, as though nature herself is waiting for something. Cassian can’t stop looking at Bodhi, feels himself get closer and closer until they’re right next to each other.

“How long were you with Gerrera?” He asks, voice dim and filled with something that even he couldn’t identify.

“A while,” Bodhi breathes and Cassian nods, resting his head against the other man’s before turning away, shame and confusion swirling in his stomach. Neither of them speak about what had just happened, they turn and make their way up the mountain. Although Cassian can’t help but put his hand on the other’s back. For safety, of course.

That’s a lie and he knows it.

They reach their spot and Cassian crouches down into the dirt, readying his sniper and looking through the lens to see Galen Erso. Not acknowledging the soft gasp, Cassian takes a minute to ready himself, let himself come to terms with the decision.

The death of one man for the rest of the universe. If Galen lives, they could make him make another weapon. 

Cassian breathes, once, twice, three times. Without turning around, he orders Bodhi to go back down, refusing to have him witness what he’s about to do.

“What is it that you don’t want me to see, Cassian?” Bodhi asks, voice a veritable ice cube. “You’re going to kill him?” Cassian rises so quickly, it’s a wonder he doesn’t fall. He presses his forehead onto the Bodhi’s, their bodies so close, but not close enough.

“Go down Bodhi,” Cassian licks his lips, fingers twitching to move Bodhi’s hair out of his eyes. Would he let him? Would he even want that? “Go back down and help Kay.” Neither one of them will ever acknowledge the way his voice breaks.

I have to. I have to. I need to.

Bodhi says nothing, his eyes swirling with an anger and sadness that echo within his chest. After a minute, he nods, moving away from Cassian. He stares long after Bodhi moves away from view, body frozen and fingers burning. 

Crouching back down, Cassian readies the sniper, refusing to acknowledge the slight tremor in his fingers.

Galen Erso.

He lays there, feeling the rain cascade along his back, the cold settling in his bones. Seconds pass, then a minute, and Cassian acknowledges the truth.

Galen Erso dies with blaster fire and “stardust” on his lips. His daughter cries over his body, her hatred and her grief bleeding together until it explodes.

“You might as well be a stormtrooper,” she hisses, eyes bright with tears and mouth twisted down into a snarl. Cassian stands in front of her, body shaking with too much emotion.

“Realize, Cassian, that we are not like the Empire or the Republic. We fight for our freedom and no one and nothing can take that away from us.”

“You’re not the only one who lost something,” he hisses back, memories surfacing in his mind, too painful and personal for the company in front of him, “some of us just decided to do something about it.” He turns and walks away, barely sparing anyone else a glance. 

Bodhi is the one that moves to sit next to him. He’s silent, fingers fluttering on the ripped cuff of his imperial flight suit. Cassian can’t help but stare, noticing the cuts that adorn the man’s wrist. He says nothing though, waiting for the silence to end with patience. 

Bodhi’s the one to break it, eyes staring ahead of him until turning to look at Cassian. 

“You didn’t kill him.” He says it as a statement, although Cassian can hear the emotions that are bleeding through. He nods once and then Bodhi turns to him fully, eyes probing, and asks why.

“Why’d you defect?” He asks instead and Bodhi smirks at him, weak though it may be. Cassian can’t help the slight hitch in his breathing.

“Someone once told me that rebellions were built on hope. I guess I wanted to have some hope for myself.” His eyes lock with Cassian’s and Cassian knows.

‘It’s you,’ he thinks, mind halting and going at the same time, ‘it’s always been you.’ Cassian’s eyes flicker down to Bodhi’s  lips, then his fingers, then his eyes again. 

“Rebellions are built on hope,” he breathes, astutely aware of how close they are to each other. Bodhi smiles slightly and Cassian can barely breathe around the feeling in his chest.

‘You’re so warm, so so so warm,’ Cassian looks at wide brown eyes and wonders if Bodhi feels what he’s feeling. He wonders if the man feels the burning in his veins, the settling of his own personal storm, wonders if it’d be alright to brush his fingers against the man’s cheeks.

Cassian wants so much, but he wonders if it’d be okay for him to get it.

They arrive onto Yavin 4 and Cassian sets to work. He knows what they’ll decide, knows it like the back of his hand, just as he knows what Bodhi and Jyn will decide. Cassian breathes deep, mind settling and heart calming and makes his own decision. He gathers as many people as he possibly can.

“I couldn’t face myself,” he says, glancing at Jyn before staring straight at Bodhi, “if I gave up now, none of us could.” And then Bodhi grins, wide and unrestrained and Cassian finds himself smiling back.

‘It’s so beautiful,’ he thinks, staring at Bodhi’s wide grin, ‘a nebula contained into a person. It’s always been you, Bodhi, always.’ Cassian wants so much and a part of him hopes he’d get it.

They’re alone for the first time, both of them putting some last minute things into the ship. Bodhi looks up at him once they’re done, mouth quirked up in a half smile and fingers playing incessantly with the cuff of his uniform.

“I guess this is it,” he says, gaze never wavering from Cassian’s. 

“I guess so.” Cassian replies, his eyes flicker down to the other’s man’s lips and then his hands, wonders if it’d be too much to grab his hand. Bodhi makes the decision for him, fingers curling around his own.

“Thank you,” Bodhi whispers, eyes painfully sincere, “for believing me.” The raw honesty fills his lungs like honey. The others arrive and Bodhi, with a parting smile sets to work. Cassian gets up from the co-pilot’s seat and moves back slightly, watching Bodhi work.

Force, he wants so much but he doubts. He always doubts.

Bodhi bluffs them into Scarif, landing them onto one of the launch pads. Cassian pats the other man on the back and turns to the other soldiers.

Rebellions are built on hope. 

“Make ten men feel like a hundred,” he tells them, his hope burning through his chest like lava. They let out a soft cheer and Cassian smiles. 

A hand touches his shoulder and Cassian turns his head to see Bodhi, looking equal parts terrified and determined. Cassian breathed once and nodded at the other man, turning to walk away. Before he could do so, Bodhi’s hand tightens on his shoulder and Cassian turns around into a hug.

“Stay safe,” Bodhi whispers and Cassian can’t help but want…he wants so much.

“I will,” he whispers, the phrase heavy with emotion, “I will.” Bodhi nods and then they’re off.

He falls into the rhythm, lets himself get swept away by his role. This is something he knows, something he’s intimately familiar with. How many times has he infiltrated an Imperial Base? How many times has he gone in and gotten out without much trouble? This is routine. Easy.

Except it isn’t.

Fighting for an idea, a concept, a belief, is much more different than fighting for a tangible thing. Cassian is under no illusions that he’d live to see the fall of the Empire, he’s under no illusions that he’d make it that far. His goal has always been to fight for as long as he could to bring as much hope as he possibly could. Intangible, important. But intangible.

Until now.

Bodhi’s bright smile comes to mind and Cassian ignores the way his heart speeds up at the mere mention of the man. He ignores his sweaty palms and moves forward.

For the Rebellion, the Hope, and Bodhi Rook.

The first to fall is Kay; he goes down in a shower of blaster fire and a regretful “goodbye.” Cassian almost screams himself hoarse, almost lets his emotions get in the way of the mission. He leans against the door Kay had locked them in and gives himself 1 minute to quietly fall apart. And then he moves away from the door and keeps going. Like he always does. 

Bodhi stops answering and Cassian wonders if this is the moment he too falls. He’s hit in the back and falls onto several beams, body shuddering each time. 

Cassian wants, he wants, he wanted so much.

He lays on the beam and stares at the ceiling for 2 minutes, mourning the man, the soulmate he never got to truly meet. And then he rises and keeps going like he always does.

Cassian refuses to let himself go, refuses to go quietly into the night. Not when there’s still hope left.

He shoots Krennic in the chest, barely paying the man much attention and grabs Jyn as they make their way down the beach. They walk until Cassian no longer can, his broken leg unable to support his body. He falls onto the beach, staring straight ahead at the Planet Killer above them. Jyn goes for a hug and Cassian doesn’t deny her. He holds her tight, even as he imagines someone else. The scent of sweat and motor oil invade his senses, a smile so bright it rivals a star, comes into his minds eye.

He wanted so much.

Cassian Andor closes his eyes and imagines Bodhi Rook holding his hand out to him, a grin on his lips.

He wakes to beeping, the sound coming in waves. Groaning in pain, the man opens his eyes wide before shutting them again.

“You’re awake!” A voice exclaims, before coming into his field of vision. Cassian almost sobs. He doesn’t though, merely raising his shaky hands to rest on Bodhi’s cheek, marveling at the way the other man leans into the contact.

“I thought I lost you there,” he rasps, and Bodhi smiles, turning his head slightly to kiss the inside of Cassian’s palm.

Cassian’s heart burns.

“I’m here, always.” Cassian doesn’t stop the tears that slide down his face as Bodhi presses a featherlight kiss on his lips.

Cassian breathes deep and smiles, like when he was three, unrestrained and carefree. His eyes crinkle and soft laugh escapes him.