expendable | Cassian Andor x reader
Authors notes: My first Cassian fic, and my first Star Wars fic in a long time! I am yet to actually finish the Andor show, but I just love Diego Luna sm, so I had to get something written for him while I have the time 🍪 I feel like the ending was a little rushed though 😕 Wordcount: 3.1k Warnings/Tags: mild angst, mentions of injury, negative self-talk, non-gendered reader (alluded to be shorter than Cassian), hurt-to-comfort Synopsis: You mess up on a job, leading to a fall out with Cassian. He isn't too pleased with how you choose to cope with it.
Masterlists
You dragged breaths through your pursed lips, sucking in sharply as the med droid peeled your now tattered shirt away from the weeping blaster wound in your shoulder, doing your best to swallow your grunts as the bacta pads were laid over the skin – the instant cooling both soothing and sore at the same time.
Heaving a sigh, you sunk back against the rough pillow of the bed, your head slumping back with a mixture of both exhaustion and relief as you felt the sticky gel start to work its magic already, the sharp ache replaced with a dull throbbing.
You weren’t sure what you had expected from your first blaster wound, but you were surprised by just how much it burned. It seemed silly, thinking back on it now that you were safely back in the base, but at the time, it was all that you could think about. Well, that and—
“What did you think you were doing, disobeying me like that?” Cassian’s voice bellowed through the med bay as he pushed past a bustle of nurses and med droids, practically imploding when he finally found you in the masses of people.
Gritting your teeth again you pulled your heavy head back up from the pillows, fixing him with a stare that you wouldn’t dare try with any of your other superiors.
“I did what I had to to secure the intel. You would have done the exact same thing if you were in my position.” You practically spat the words out, grimacing again when you tried to push yourself to sit up further on the scratchy sheets, trying but failing to not flinch away from the nurse that was now trying to peel away the initial bandage to assess the real damage.
“I would have never gotten myself into that mess,” Cassian snapped, his hands pushing you back down against the pillows, keeping you still so the nurse could work. Despite the tone of his voice, his hands were surprisingly gentle, weighing down on your good shoulder and collarbone as the nurse peeled away the bacta. It was surprising that neither party madea comment on the way your heart rate sped up beneath his touch. “You’re lucky you are still alive,” he seethed, his voice dropping in volume as he gritted his teeth, pulling his eyes away from the gaping hole in your arm to your face, his eyes searching your face.
It should have only been a simple mission. One you had both done countless times before, but you screwed up, you panicked, and now you were paying the price. You shuddered again as the nurse wrapped the wound back up, murmuring something to herself before pacing off to a supply stash.
Cassian removed his hands from you as you settled back into the bedding again, breathing shallowly as the throbbing eased. “Like you have never made a mistake before, because you’re captain Andor and he never makes mistakes.”
“I’m more responsible, not better,” he retorted defiantly, crossing his arms across his chest, “You always have to be a hero, to go and do whatever you think is right,” you finally dared to meet his eyes, his gaze boring into you, “and one of these days it is going to get you killed.”
The anger in your chest boiled, rising like bile in your throat – “And if it is in service of the rebellion, then so be it!” you spat, eyes narrowing, completely unaware of the fact that half of the nurses that had previously been hovering ad now discreetly slipped away during what was quickly turning into a screaming match. “I am expendable. That is my job. You are not.”
“Expendable? You?” Cassian practically bit out a laugh, the sound rough and sharp as his head dropped, shaking slowly. “Why are you–”
“I want to be alone–” you started, cutting him off before he could reprimand you again, “–please.” Your gaze fixed itself on the medbay’s ceiling, desperate to look anywhere but at him.
You could see him pause for a second out of the corner of your eye, arms unfurling from his chest, fists clenching at his sides as he scoffed again. “Fine”, his voice was gruff from shouting but now devoid of any energy. He turned, pausing only briefly in the doorway, “You know where I am if you need anything.”
And with that, he slipped through the doors again.
The soft material of your cot was a massive upgrade from the scratchy blankets in the med bay, and you sunk into them almost immediately, the tension practically melting from your spine as you let your body go limp against your thin mattress. Your quarters were far smaller than the medical bay, but they were cosy, warm, and most importantly, private. All you had wanted to do from the moment he had stormed off was sleep, but the constant bustle of nurses and med droids had left little opportunity. Now, however, nestled into the bedding you had managed to smuggle off a stopover planet, your eyes finally drifted shut, your head feeling impossibly heavy against your worn pillows.
You had barely drifted off when you were thrown bolt upright again, your muscles tensing and flexing of their own accord, your shoulder burning with a phantom shot as your stomach twisted, threatening with all its might to bring up the poor excuse of a dinner you had managed hours earlier.
Pressing your fingers to your lips, you eased yourself back against your pillows, your hand moving to ghost over the bandages on your shoulder, finding them still securely in place.
But it had felt so real – the firefight, Cassian shouting for you to get back to the ship, to leave the intel drive and get out, but it was so close, it had only skidded a few feet in front of you. He stood briefly to cover your escape and you darted – but not towards the ship like he had ordered, towards the small drive between you and the troopers.
With it safely curled in your fingers you turned again, scrambling to stand and finally dart to the ship when you heard his shouts, turning at the last minute to see the troopers perfectly lined up shot…
You had jumped again without thinking, shoving your captain out of the way, your fear taking over your body – only for it to be quickly replaced with the worst pain of your life…
Standing on shaky legs you crossed to the pitcher and bowl on your table, pouring out some of the water and splashing it over your face, letting the droplets mix with the sheen of sweat and tear tracks as they rolled over your skin, washing away the fear again.
With a huff, you turned again, resting more uneasily against your sheets as your eyes closed again. But sleep wouldn’t be so easy. Not when the image of his lifeless body threatened the corners of your mind every time it went dark.
You repeated the cycle of trying to sleep, getting a couple of hours at a time at best for the next two days, or so you would estimate. You were warned by the med droid that it could take a few days to kick the fatigue, but this was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and the lack of sound rest was hardly helping.
Uncertainly, you peaked around your door, stepping out of your room only when you were sure the corridor was clear. You had made a pitiful attempt to ignore the growling in your stomach for the last hour, and the only solution was two floors down in the mess hall. The soft slippers you had opted for helped you to stay quiet as you padded down the stairs, smiling and nodding a general ‘hello’ at anyone you passed, thankful that the bandages still firmly wrapped around your upper torso gave some kind of visual excuse for your choice of what were essential pyjamas to walk around the base in in the middle of the afternoon.
With it being a good two hours after the general lunch hour, the mess hall was relatively empty and, much to your relief, free from a certain captain. The only downside being that it meant it was also largely free from any of the good food.
With a quiet huff, you gathered what you could, shoving a few packets of snacks into your pockets before trudging back up to your room, opting to skim over the back of one of the packets to try and work out exactly what you had scrounged as you somewhat dawdled back down what you thought was the empty corridor to your dorm.
The sound of your name reverberating off the bare walls had you pause mid-step, a sudden wave of dread settling on your shoulders before you picked up your pace again, not daring to turn back around, even as his heavy footsteps followed you. You told yourself it was because you didn't want to face a debriefing, another dressing down for disobeying him. But you knew deep down you knew it was more than that. It was the fear that he would look at you with that same look of disdain in his eyes that he had when he had hauled you back onto the ship.
You had come to terms with the fact that you felt more than simple respect for Cassian Andor several months ago, after a recon mission had left you both stranded together and alone in a small rebel hideout, with nothing to do but wait and play ‘happy families’ until rescue was able to reach you. It was bliss, if you were honest with yourself. You two had always worked well together, but it was different, somehow. It felt natural to pretend to be his for just a few weeks. But he was your superior, and it was throwing off your judgement.
It wasn’t long after you had managed to shut your door that the heavy knocks started, each thud heavy and deliberate.
“I know you’re in there,” Cassian’s voice rang out from the other side, an exasperated sigh following when you continued to sit silently, staring at the other side like a loth cat in headlights. “Open the door, please.”
You fought the urge to scoff at his demanding tone, the anger still evident. “Is that an order, captain?” you snarked back, but you knew your energy was not in it.
You heard him huff again, “If it means you will open the door, yes. It’s an order.” The usual commanding tone was there, but as you unfolded yourself from your bed and crossed the small room, you could have sworn you detected an ounce of desperation. He was leaning against the door frame as you pulled the door open a crack, his eyes instantly looking up to meet you, straightening himself as you hovered in the doorway.
“Are you going to make us do this in the corridor?” he asked, raising a brow. Biting the inside of your cheek you rolled your eyes, regretting it slightly when your strained, tired eyes ached. Nevertheless, you stood to the side, opening the door just enough for him to slip in and close it behind him.
Your heart hammered in your chest as you flopped back down onto your bed again, fixing your gaze out of the small window. You wrapped your arms around your legs, your palms finding purchase on the fabric of your soft trousers to try and dry the sweat from your palms. Just looking at him had your nightmare flashing behind your eyes again.
“You have been ignoring me.” He stated simply. You weren’t too sure if it was supposed to be a question or not, but he continued to watch you, and you presumed he was expecting a response.
“Yes.” You replied simply, your voice quiet.
You could take out his jaw clenching in the corner of your vision, rocking a little in place in frustration. “Why?” He pushed sharply, hands coming to rest on his hips.
You shrugged, a hand instantly coming to rest on your aching shoulder at the movement. “I was letting myself heal.” It wasn’t a lie.
Perhaps if you have had a little more rest, you would have realised that lying so blatantly to one of the rebellion's best spies was a fool's game.
“You have been healed.” His gaze was intense, studying your face even as you refused to look at him. “Stop lying to me.”
Exhaling slowly, the air slipping past your relaxed lips, your fingers rubbed absentmindedly at your shoulder. He was right, your shoulder looked almost as good as new already. But it ached whenever you thought about him – a phantom burn that was present more often than not.
“I presumed that you wanted a break from someone so reckless,” you finally hummed, eyes glazing over as they defocused on the small silhouettes of people moving back and forth over the tarmac below you.
Cassian’s fingers curled into fists at his side. You could tell that he wanted to yell, his frustration starting to boil over as he bit at the inside of his cheek.
“Don’t do that. Don’t make it about me.” He inched closer, desperate to have you meet his gaze. His voice finally softened, a hint of vulnerability creeping in as he spoke, “just look at me.”
You snorted softly, shaking your head, “But it’s always about you, Cassian. Can’t you see that?”
His expression darkened, the bitterness in your voice cutting into him roughly. “What is that supposed to mean?” He shot back, his defences rising again as he stepped forward instinctively, closing the gap between you. “I can never understand what is going through your head, always putting yourself at risk. Throwing yourself into danger like no one cares, trying to–“
“– I just can’t stand to see you hurt!” You finally broke, pressing yourself to stand up in your anger without realising just how close he had gotten. “I do what I do to protect you. That is my job. That is my goal. Because without you the rebellion means nothing – without you, I have nothing to fight for.” You were practically panting by the time your mind had caught up to what you had confessed, but you made no effort to move away, watching as his eyes widened at your outburst, lips faltering around half-formed words.
He wanted to argue, to protest, to tell you that the rebellion needed you just as much as it needed him. But something in your eyes silenced him. Something in the way the anxiety and vulnerability swam beneath the surface that made his heart ache.
Huffing at his silence, taking it as confirmation of your fears, you moved to turn away, “not so vocal now, are you.”
His hand moved on instinct, grasping your wrist tenderly, his calloused palm rough against the skin, anchoring you in place.
“I’m trying to hold my composure, which is damn near impossible with you.”
You went to scoff, hand twitching in his grasp when he shushed you.
“Don’t scoff, don’t brush me off, and don’t walk away from this. Not until you hear what I have to say.”
The proximity was almost intoxicating, your mind racing at a million miles an hour as a warmth blooms across your chest, radiating up your arm from where he held you. You were sure from where his fingers pressed against your wrist that he could feel the way your heartbeat quickened.
He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing with the effort as he wet his parted lips, “you frustrate me, you infuriate me,” he started, fingers twitching slightly in the fear you might pull away, “you’re reckless and defiant and impulsive…” his voice trails off, his eyes dropping unmistakably down to your lips, lingering there and seemingly stealing the thoughts from his head.
“But?…” you urged, sensing the word hanging in the air.
“But,” he wet his lips again nervously, “but I love you regardless. And I can not bear to lose you.”
Cassian’s breath hitched in his throat as you pressed up onto your tiptoes and closed the gap between you, your lips pressing to his desperately and with little finesse. His body tensed slightly in surprise before he surrendered to the moment. His hands moving instinctively to your hips, pulling you up against him as he returned the kiss with equal fervor. All the frustration, all the tension, all the fear he had been suppressing in the last three days melting away on your lips.
Your fingers found purchase in the lapels of his jacket, twisting the fabric to pull him closer to you, as if he might disappear when you opened your eyes again. Cassian similarly pulled you closer, his arm snaking around your waist to hold you tight against his chest, your back bending just a little as he clung to you, his other hand weaving its way into your hair, tilting your head back to angle your mouth even closer to his, murmuring your name against your lips.
Finally desperate for air, you parted, but only enough to rest your foreheads against one another. His breathing was laboured, the air around him suddenly feeling too cold against his flushed skin.
“Please, never let me go again,” you asked softly, your gaze flicking between his eyes.
The arm around your waist tightened, the palm now resting against your cheek moving slightly to allow his thumb to brush against the soft skin. “Never,” he murmured, his voice slightly hoarse. “I’ll never let you go again.”
You swallowed thickly, finally finding it within yourself to be truthful with him, “I didn’t want to avoid you,” you started uncertainly, worrying your lower lip between your teeth for a moment, “I just couldn’t stop replaying what happened. I couldn’t stop dreaming about it. I barely slept, because I was so scared that if I hadn't jumped, you wouldn’t be here anymore…”
He shushed you softly, eyes softening as his hands came to cup your cheeks, carefully urging you to meet his eyes again.
“I’m here,” he reassured you gently, something resolute in his tone. “I’m alive. We’re alive.” His hands slipped from your cheeks, down your arms, until his fingers were entwined with yours, squeezing gently.
Nodding quickly, you released a shaky breath, glancing down at where his hands cradled yours. “Stay with me, please?” taking a few steps back towards your bed, you pulled on his hands softly, “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
Cassian’s expression softened further and he moved with you, his hand still tightly entwined with yours as he followed you.
“I won’t leave your side,” he promised.
