Cassian couldn’t be any more different from me.
He was brave and strong. He knew when to take action, how to fight, how to lead. He was—still is actually—one of the best spies the Rebels have. He’s an important person. Not just because he’s a Fulcrum agent and can get information no one else can. He’s important because he knows himself.
He knows his flaws. He knows his past and where he came from. He doesn’t know what the future holds for any of us. Maybe the Empire will win. He said that to me once. But he smirked and added, “We’ll give them a fight to remember.”
But then his face crumpled as the words left his lips. Deep pain, one that comes with losing so much, sunk into him. “The Rebels are made of broken people,” he muttered and left.
I should have followed, but I’m not like him. I don’t have the words to express myself, to help others. That’s not to say that he’s the more eloquent person either. Not at all. He’d rather talk with his blaster. But he’s not afraid to cut through nonsense with a sharp swear or getting in someone’s face.
I sat alone thinking about his words. We are all broken. Everyone has lost something at some point. Family members and friends. Homes. Promises of a better tomorrow. Our freedom to express ourselves. The ability to walk in the sunlight without facing persecution. The freedom of not having those in charge look at us in fear, that we’re some monster for being born a certain way, in a certain social structure, in a certain place, with a certain look.
I was like that too. I lost everything at Jedha. I made the choice to leave the Empire. The few friends I had there probably cursed my name. I lost Galen, such a kind soul who reminded me of the few memories I had of my father. His smile was warm like Ma’s…
But as I heard Cassian’s footsteps come back into the room, I watched him with quiet interest as I usually did. He placed a cup of warm tea in front of me before sitting down with his own.
We were quiet, drinking our brew. It was normal. Neither of us shared many words in general unless we had to.
“Broken people are whole again together,” he met my eyes and smiled.
His words warmed me more than any drink could. Jyn, who was so much like Cassian, had her fiery passion. Chirrut had his words of wisdom and dry jokes that always caught us by surprise. I wish he could see how much we smiled at him, but I know he can sense it. Baze, while pragmatic and lost his sense of faith, seemed content with the faith he had in us. And K-2SO, while not flesh and blood, seem as real of a person as the rest of us.
Cassian said quietly, “I’m whole as long as I’m with you and the team, Bodhi.”
And he gave me the sense I was more. I wasn’t just a pilot in the mess of the galaxy. I wasn’t a single being in the void. I was a light. With the other lights, like his, we were a beacon. Together, we were bright.
I had a brave moment, rare for me, and I reached across the table. Taking his hand, I grinned like a fool, “Yes. We are.”
And Cassian knew he was important too. Not just to me, but to himself as well.
I didn’t know how long that feeling would last in him. We were at war. Moments like these were fleeting. They were the little things we clung to at night to help us move on.
I hoped Cassian knew how I felt about him. I could never form the words to actually say it.
I hoped he knew from the moment I met him, that I just had to fall in love with him.