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They say when you’re dying that your whole life flashes in front of your eyes. They never said that this includes the rest of your life that you could have had. There’d be no one to ask on the subject. But if you asked Jyn Erso, not that you could, she’d say that it was almost worse than dying.
It was the second before the light hit and suddenly everything slowed. The rush of light was inches from her face, she could feel the heat coming off it. It was burning her. She could feel it burning through her. Then it slowed. Agonising, it was still burning but slowly. In the space between the heat and her, in that wall of white light she saw everything that she could have had. All that her life could have been if Scarif hadn’t become the next target. The life she could have had if this wasn’t a suicide mission.
There was the rescue ships coming down to get them. There was the rest of their squadron, the rebellion coming to rescue them before they all burned away. There was Cassian helping her on to the ship and not leaving her side as she went through medical. Even as they lay in the medbay they were still close by, hands holding each other’s in the space between their two beds.
Then was the recovery. They still hobbling around when the news came about Alderaan. They were still grounded on the base when the Battle of Yavin was fought. It happened only days later. They were on the base at Yavin when the news came that the Death Star had been destroyed.
That was when Cassian kissed her for the first time.
They were celebrating, hugging each other the instant they found out that everything had succeeded and that they’d won, when he stopped hugging her and kissed her instead. Jyn smiled into the kiss, cheered for the victories and laughed for the joy of winning.
They joined the Rebellion movement when they recovered. There was much work to do in the following years. Their was still a war, still something to fight for, still something to live for.
They had each other and they had the war.
Then they had more.
They had their son first. He was a little thing, dark hair and dark eyes full of mischief as he ran about the base. There was another toddler that he ran around with, both children of the Rebellion. Their son was bright, and shone like the sun to them. He was their light and joy in the dark times of the war.
Their daughter was born after. After the war when they were bruised and bandaged and finally had time to truly be a family they had their daughter. She was beautiful, tiny and perfect and free. She was born into a world free of the worst possible evil.
Even though they had their family they never did retire. They still helped out as much as they could and went on the missions they were directed to. They watched their children grow up. They were there when their daughter fixed her first engine. They were there the first time their son flew. They were there to see their children grow into strong and wonderful people.
They didn’t have a long life but they got to see that much. They got to have all of that. They got to have their children and their lives and they got to contribute so much more. They got to be so much more.
But then it all faded away like ghosts when the wall of light finally hit. And it was over.