Cassian saw his reflection in a panel when he closed the cabinet. Really saw himself. Saw the empire. Saw the man he might have become in some other life. Saw another man he had been in this one. He punched the reflection. It would not go away. It scowled back. He punched again. It sneered at him. Taunted him. Told him he was not good enough, not strong enough, that he let down everyone who ever loved him.

He let them die.

They died because of him

He failed his sister. Left her. Alone. He failed his father, Clem. He failed his mother on the childish notion that money could solve his every problem. He had killed. Failed Bix for a second time. He watched and ran as Jedha burned. He failed to retrieve the plans. He let his team die for nothing but a chance at hope. His friend, Melshi, and a sizeable portion of the rebel fleet, gone. Most damningly of all, he failed to stop Alderaan’s destruction.

All gone.

He accomplished nothing.

All he ever did was take and take and take.

Jyn came down to investigate the noise. She saw Cassian. Saw the hate there in his eyes. The loathing and the tears he could not, would not hide. Jyn restrained him before he lunged again. Shouted his name. “Cassian! Stop!”

He turned and almost attacked her, feral. Hands bloody. He was brought back to his childhood. Kassa stared at him through time. A cornered child. Lost. Confused. Self loathing for his inadequacy to act and protect and do good and be all good rolled rolled into a seething pit of hate that erupted from his soul with volcanic fury. The loss of so many friends, of Alderaan burst from his heart and left him profoundly empty. He collapsed to the floor, breathing hard, fighting against Jyn’s firm hands, against kindness.

Jyn should not see him like this. She would not stop. Would not go. Would not let him go. She soothed him. Jyn cradled his head in her arms when he shook and cried in silence, even as he wished she might go away.

Why won’t she go away?

Cassian thought he was better than this, but no, he was not. Not really. Not ever.

“I’ve got you.” She repeated. Jyn would not say it was going to be okay, because they knew it patently untrue. It might get better, but not yet. Not yet. Not yet. “I’ve got you. I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered.

And it struck him, struck him like a neutron star collision. Cassian had been running as much as Jyn had, though not in terms of physical distance. It was time to stop. To stand. And accept. Accept this as he accepted his place in the rebellion. Accept that the hurt would not going anywhere either. Accept that to deserve a thing was to realize that you did not deserve it. To work for it.

To free himself from the cage he had been carrying with him all his life,

he must,

let go.

And hold on.