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luzulaOkay, here you go! My unexpected Star Wars fic. Also on AO3.
Title: Common Ground
Fandom: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story
Pairing: Cassian/Bodhi (or Cassian & Bodhi, depending on your interpretation)
Rating: PG
Length: 1700 words
AO3 tags: Missing Scene, Empathy, Comrades in Arms, Sharing a Bed, Duty, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares
Notes: I don't know anyone in the fandom, so this is not beta-read. Do feel free to point out canon mistakes! I feel like this is a really obvious story to write and someone must've written something like it already, but hey, that's never stopped anyone before.
***
Cassian left General Draven's office and closed the door behind him, feeling drained. Debriefing took precedence over food and a shower and whatever else he might want after the long flight back from Eadu. But he understood that, would himself have insisted on it even if Draven hadn't.
He headed for the mess, dodging people in the corridor on their way from there. The kitchens were mercifully still open, and Cassian got a bowl of human food. It was a chunky soup--just reconstituted protein and vegetables, but the cooks had a way with spices that made it vastly better than field rations. Not that he would have complained; he ate what was put in front of him.
He'd rather dreaded that debriefing. Draven didn't take kindly to anyone disobeying orders, even if Cassian did usually have considerable leeway in making decisions on the fly in the field. He'd been turning this one over in his head since he'd lowered the rifle and known he wouldn't do it.
But in the end it hadn't come up. Draven had simply asked if Galen Erso was dead, and Cassian had replied that he was. The eventualities for what was to come had taken up most of their time. Perhaps this simply prolonged the uncertainty--Draven would undoubtedly hear the story from one of the others. But Cassian was too tired now to care.
The door opened. Bodhi Rook stood there, looking hesitant. Then he saw Cassian and headed for him. "I--I was told I could get some food here."
"Of course." Cassian got up wearily. "Let me check, I hope the cooks haven't left."
All but one of them had, and Cassian persuaded him to heat up some of the leftover soup by telling him Bodhi was a hero of the Rebellion.
"Aren't we all," the cook said, and handed Bodhi the bowl of soup. Then he left, and they were alone, facing each other over a table in the echoing mess hall.
"Thanks," Bodhi said, and started spooning the soup down like he was starving.
"Did they debrief you, too?" Cassian asked, although he didn't really need to ask.
Bodhi nodded, a sharp movement. "They didn't...not like Saw Gerrerra."
Cassian winced. "We're not like that. You've proved yourself, and I told General Draven so."
They weren't like that, and yet...Cassian had worked in intelligence a long time, and he knew Bodhi would still have had to work to gain their trust, if he had come to them differently.
"Where are the others?" Cassian asked. "Jyn? Baze and Chirrut?"
Bodhi shook his head. "Don't know."
Well, they might not be debriefed as thoroughly as he and Bodhi had been. Likely they had been assigned quarters already; it was late. Just as well, really--it was hardly likely that Jyn would want to see him. He hadn't actually killed her father, but in her eyes, it seemed he might as well have. The Rebellion had, anyway. And Baze and Chirrut would take care of each other.
"They've probably gone to bed already," he said, to reassure Bodhi. "Have you been assigned quarters?"
"No," Bodhi said, scraping out the bowl for the last of the soup. "They didn't--where do I sleep?"
For a shameful weary moment, Cassian wished he'd left and gone to bed before Bodhi came in and landed him with more responsibility. Then his finely honed sense of duty kicked in. He'd have to rouse the quartermaster, ask her to find him a place somewhere. But looking at Bodhi across the table from him, he was reluctant to abandon him to bunk with strangers, after what he'd gone through.
"Come on," he said, heading towards the kitchen with his bowl. "You can sleep in my room; I've got an extra mattress."
"All right. Thanks," Bodhi said, taking his bowl and following Cassian.
Cassian grabbed some extra sheets and blankets and a towel from the materiel room down the hall. Bodhi looked around him when Cassian opened the door to his room. It was plain enough, narrow and with just enough room for a bunk, a small table, a chair and a space to stow his things. Cassian didn't really spend that much time in it, but he liked knowing it was there, a place that was his own where he could retreat.
He bent down to drag the extra mattress from below the bunk and pushed the table and chair over to the side. Sometimes the base got crowded and they had to double up.
"Here you go," he told Bodhi, handing him the sheets and blankets and towel. "I'll just take a shower."
The hot water was heavenly. It was a luxury he always looked forward to when he got back to base--water was strictly rationed on ships. When he was done, he wrapped the towel around his hips and went back to his room, pointing Bodhi to the shower.
He'd already put his nightshirt on and gone to bed when Bodhi got back, and politely half-closed his eyes as Bodhi looked at his dirty clothes on the floor, shrugged, and hung the towel on the chair. Cassian caught a glimpse of his nude body as he slipped into bed.
"Good night," Cassian murmured, turning out the light.
***
Cassian woke with a start. For a moment he didn't know where he was and groped for a weapon that wasn't there, then realized where and when he was. He listened while his pulse calmed down. The noise that had woken him wasn't loud. Slowly, he reached up to turn the dimmer on the light up a little, illuminating the room with soft light.
Bodhi was clearly in the throes of a nightmare. His breathing was harsh, his mouth open, and he moved in jerky stops and starts.
Cassian slid down onto the floor beside him, hesitated, then touched his forearm. "Bodhi?"
Bodhi reacted with a violent jerk of his arm. "No! No!"
Not helpful. Cassian backed off.
"Bodhi? Bodhi, you're only dreaming," he said, a little louder.
Bodhi blinked his eyes open, still seeming like he was not quite there. "Pilot? I'm the pilot?"
"You're the pilot," Cassian said, trying to reassure him. "You got away. You're the pilot. You're with the Rebellion now."
"I'm the pilot. I got away." Bodhi was still breathing fast, his black hair tangled around his face. Cassian reached out to him, trying to find some place where that damn creature hadn't held him fast. His hand spread out on Bodhi's chest, feeling it rise and fall rapidly, his heart beating fast. Bodhi's hand came up to cover his, and he closed his eyes again. Cassian could see him swallow.
"Hey," Cassian said. "Just a bad dream. You'll be all right, okay? You'll be all right." No guarantee of that, but you had to say something.
Bodhi took a deep, shaky breath. Cassian started to take his hand back, but Bodhi tightened his grip on it.
"All right," Cassian murmured. "I'll stay a bit."
It was a wonder Bodhi hadn't got brain damage. Maybe he had. Cassian assumed he'd gotten a medical check-up today, or at least he hoped so. If not, he'd make sure of it tomorrow.
Bodhi's breathing was calmer now. His mouth moved. "Galen?" he murmured.
Oh. How stupid--Cassian had thought Jyn wouldn't want to see him, but he hadn't thought about Bodhi's feelings. Jyn hadn't met her father for many years, while Bodhi...they must've been each other's lifelines in there. He sat there for a while, knowing himself for a fuck-up.
Bodhi's skin was so warm under the outspread fingers of his hand. His dark lashes lay against his cheeks, eyes moving irregularly under the lids. A man, just like any other, grown up in the Empire, broken away from it.
Cassian watched him and felt suddenly that deep stab of common feeling, of the other as a being like himself, with thoughts and feelings like him. He treasured it, even as it felt almost painful. It was often hard to find his way back to that after missions--he practiced it, sometimes, just to see if he still could. Sometimes he could only know it in the abstract.
Cassian slowed his breathing to match Bodhi's, feeling the physical connection drain his own tension away. He sat there a long while, then as his own eyes began to fall shut, he eased himself down beside Bodhi, his hand still on his chest, and fell asleep.
***
The alarm woke him and Bodhi both, and Cassian rolled away, feeling rather awkward. Bodhi hadn't asked to share beds with him, after all.
"Sorry," he said. "You had a bad dream. I just--" He trailed off without finishing the sentence.
"Sorry?" Bodhi repeated, blinking. "No--sorry if I woke you up. I have trouble sleeping. Uh. Thanks." He rubbed his eyes.
Cassian turned his back and got some clothes on, letting Bodhi get dressed in peace. They'd get breakfast, then get Bodhi to medical, find Jyn and Baze and Chirrut, find out when the Alliance meeting would be--
"About Galen," Bodhi said with low voice. "I don't hold it against you."
Cassian stiffened. He turned to look at Bodhi. "I don't need you to forgive me."
"I know he thought about it," Bodhi said. "If he got caught, how he could manage to kill himself before they tortured him and he told them everything."
Cassian always had a plan for that, when he was undercover. But he'd never been under as deep as Galen had. Never for years.
"I'm sorry. We should have tried to get him out," Cassian said, responding to the obvious pain in Bodhi's voice.
Bodhi shook his head slowly. "If you had, they might've realized, and checked the plans. He never expected to survive."
"I'm sorry," Cassian said again. There was nothing else to say. He wanted to reach out, offer some sort of comfort. But what had been possible at night, half asleep, did not seem possible now.
Instead, he said, "We'll have to make it worth it, then."
Bodhi looked at him intently for a moment, then nodded. "We will."
Title: Common Ground
Fandom: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story
Pairing: Cassian/Bodhi (or Cassian & Bodhi, depending on your interpretation)
Rating: PG
Length: 1700 words
AO3 tags: Missing Scene, Empathy, Comrades in Arms, Sharing a Bed, Duty, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares
Notes: I don't know anyone in the fandom, so this is not beta-read. Do feel free to point out canon mistakes! I feel like this is a really obvious story to write and someone must've written something like it already, but hey, that's never stopped anyone before.
***
Cassian left General Draven's office and closed the door behind him, feeling drained. Debriefing took precedence over food and a shower and whatever else he might want after the long flight back from Eadu. But he understood that, would himself have insisted on it even if Draven hadn't.
He headed for the mess, dodging people in the corridor on their way from there. The kitchens were mercifully still open, and Cassian got a bowl of human food. It was a chunky soup--just reconstituted protein and vegetables, but the cooks had a way with spices that made it vastly better than field rations. Not that he would have complained; he ate what was put in front of him.
He'd rather dreaded that debriefing. Draven didn't take kindly to anyone disobeying orders, even if Cassian did usually have considerable leeway in making decisions on the fly in the field. He'd been turning this one over in his head since he'd lowered the rifle and known he wouldn't do it.
But in the end it hadn't come up. Draven had simply asked if Galen Erso was dead, and Cassian had replied that he was. The eventualities for what was to come had taken up most of their time. Perhaps this simply prolonged the uncertainty--Draven would undoubtedly hear the story from one of the others. But Cassian was too tired now to care.
The door opened. Bodhi Rook stood there, looking hesitant. Then he saw Cassian and headed for him. "I--I was told I could get some food here."
"Of course." Cassian got up wearily. "Let me check, I hope the cooks haven't left."
All but one of them had, and Cassian persuaded him to heat up some of the leftover soup by telling him Bodhi was a hero of the Rebellion.
"Aren't we all," the cook said, and handed Bodhi the bowl of soup. Then he left, and they were alone, facing each other over a table in the echoing mess hall.
"Thanks," Bodhi said, and started spooning the soup down like he was starving.
"Did they debrief you, too?" Cassian asked, although he didn't really need to ask.
Bodhi nodded, a sharp movement. "They didn't...not like Saw Gerrerra."
Cassian winced. "We're not like that. You've proved yourself, and I told General Draven so."
They weren't like that, and yet...Cassian had worked in intelligence a long time, and he knew Bodhi would still have had to work to gain their trust, if he had come to them differently.
"Where are the others?" Cassian asked. "Jyn? Baze and Chirrut?"
Bodhi shook his head. "Don't know."
Well, they might not be debriefed as thoroughly as he and Bodhi had been. Likely they had been assigned quarters already; it was late. Just as well, really--it was hardly likely that Jyn would want to see him. He hadn't actually killed her father, but in her eyes, it seemed he might as well have. The Rebellion had, anyway. And Baze and Chirrut would take care of each other.
"They've probably gone to bed already," he said, to reassure Bodhi. "Have you been assigned quarters?"
"No," Bodhi said, scraping out the bowl for the last of the soup. "They didn't--where do I sleep?"
For a shameful weary moment, Cassian wished he'd left and gone to bed before Bodhi came in and landed him with more responsibility. Then his finely honed sense of duty kicked in. He'd have to rouse the quartermaster, ask her to find him a place somewhere. But looking at Bodhi across the table from him, he was reluctant to abandon him to bunk with strangers, after what he'd gone through.
"Come on," he said, heading towards the kitchen with his bowl. "You can sleep in my room; I've got an extra mattress."
"All right. Thanks," Bodhi said, taking his bowl and following Cassian.
Cassian grabbed some extra sheets and blankets and a towel from the materiel room down the hall. Bodhi looked around him when Cassian opened the door to his room. It was plain enough, narrow and with just enough room for a bunk, a small table, a chair and a space to stow his things. Cassian didn't really spend that much time in it, but he liked knowing it was there, a place that was his own where he could retreat.
He bent down to drag the extra mattress from below the bunk and pushed the table and chair over to the side. Sometimes the base got crowded and they had to double up.
"Here you go," he told Bodhi, handing him the sheets and blankets and towel. "I'll just take a shower."
The hot water was heavenly. It was a luxury he always looked forward to when he got back to base--water was strictly rationed on ships. When he was done, he wrapped the towel around his hips and went back to his room, pointing Bodhi to the shower.
He'd already put his nightshirt on and gone to bed when Bodhi got back, and politely half-closed his eyes as Bodhi looked at his dirty clothes on the floor, shrugged, and hung the towel on the chair. Cassian caught a glimpse of his nude body as he slipped into bed.
"Good night," Cassian murmured, turning out the light.
***
Cassian woke with a start. For a moment he didn't know where he was and groped for a weapon that wasn't there, then realized where and when he was. He listened while his pulse calmed down. The noise that had woken him wasn't loud. Slowly, he reached up to turn the dimmer on the light up a little, illuminating the room with soft light.
Bodhi was clearly in the throes of a nightmare. His breathing was harsh, his mouth open, and he moved in jerky stops and starts.
Cassian slid down onto the floor beside him, hesitated, then touched his forearm. "Bodhi?"
Bodhi reacted with a violent jerk of his arm. "No! No!"
Not helpful. Cassian backed off.
"Bodhi? Bodhi, you're only dreaming," he said, a little louder.
Bodhi blinked his eyes open, still seeming like he was not quite there. "Pilot? I'm the pilot?"
"You're the pilot," Cassian said, trying to reassure him. "You got away. You're the pilot. You're with the Rebellion now."
"I'm the pilot. I got away." Bodhi was still breathing fast, his black hair tangled around his face. Cassian reached out to him, trying to find some place where that damn creature hadn't held him fast. His hand spread out on Bodhi's chest, feeling it rise and fall rapidly, his heart beating fast. Bodhi's hand came up to cover his, and he closed his eyes again. Cassian could see him swallow.
"Hey," Cassian said. "Just a bad dream. You'll be all right, okay? You'll be all right." No guarantee of that, but you had to say something.
Bodhi took a deep, shaky breath. Cassian started to take his hand back, but Bodhi tightened his grip on it.
"All right," Cassian murmured. "I'll stay a bit."
It was a wonder Bodhi hadn't got brain damage. Maybe he had. Cassian assumed he'd gotten a medical check-up today, or at least he hoped so. If not, he'd make sure of it tomorrow.
Bodhi's breathing was calmer now. His mouth moved. "Galen?" he murmured.
Oh. How stupid--Cassian had thought Jyn wouldn't want to see him, but he hadn't thought about Bodhi's feelings. Jyn hadn't met her father for many years, while Bodhi...they must've been each other's lifelines in there. He sat there for a while, knowing himself for a fuck-up.
Bodhi's skin was so warm under the outspread fingers of his hand. His dark lashes lay against his cheeks, eyes moving irregularly under the lids. A man, just like any other, grown up in the Empire, broken away from it.
Cassian watched him and felt suddenly that deep stab of common feeling, of the other as a being like himself, with thoughts and feelings like him. He treasured it, even as it felt almost painful. It was often hard to find his way back to that after missions--he practiced it, sometimes, just to see if he still could. Sometimes he could only know it in the abstract.
Cassian slowed his breathing to match Bodhi's, feeling the physical connection drain his own tension away. He sat there a long while, then as his own eyes began to fall shut, he eased himself down beside Bodhi, his hand still on his chest, and fell asleep.
***
The alarm woke him and Bodhi both, and Cassian rolled away, feeling rather awkward. Bodhi hadn't asked to share beds with him, after all.
"Sorry," he said. "You had a bad dream. I just--" He trailed off without finishing the sentence.
"Sorry?" Bodhi repeated, blinking. "No--sorry if I woke you up. I have trouble sleeping. Uh. Thanks." He rubbed his eyes.
Cassian turned his back and got some clothes on, letting Bodhi get dressed in peace. They'd get breakfast, then get Bodhi to medical, find Jyn and Baze and Chirrut, find out when the Alliance meeting would be--
"About Galen," Bodhi said with low voice. "I don't hold it against you."
Cassian stiffened. He turned to look at Bodhi. "I don't need you to forgive me."
"I know he thought about it," Bodhi said. "If he got caught, how he could manage to kill himself before they tortured him and he told them everything."
Cassian always had a plan for that, when he was undercover. But he'd never been under as deep as Galen had. Never for years.
"I'm sorry. We should have tried to get him out," Cassian said, responding to the obvious pain in Bodhi's voice.
Bodhi shook his head slowly. "If you had, they might've realized, and checked the plans. He never expected to survive."
"I'm sorry," Cassian said again. There was nothing else to say. He wanted to reach out, offer some sort of comfort. But what had been possible at night, half asleep, did not seem possible now.
Instead, he said, "We'll have to make it worth it, then."
Bodhi looked at him intently for a moment, then nodded. "We will."
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