Rogue One- Alternate Ending

Chapter 2

~Cassian~

The first thing I register when the world slowly comes into focus before my eyes is metal biting into my wrist.
After years of training with the Rebels, I reflexively survey my surroundings with any senses I can before moving.

There is a low metal ceiling with several hooks jutting out, attached to the unyielding metal loop is the chain that leads to the single cuff on my left wrist. I'm clearly in a cell.

I can hear screams and marching from my laying position, another sound that fills the small room is the steady breathing of another sleeper. Not daring to move my head yet, I breathe in and inhale the smell of metal and cotton. A sparse blanket of the stuff is clearly what I'm lying on, as well as a hard bunk.

Everything from the previous few days comes flooding back and I jolt up right.
Jyn.
The first thought that rushes into my mind after the momentary flash of horror is her name.

Ignoring the painful bite of the shackle on my wrist, I glance over to the bunk beside mine and let out a breath when I notice the person asleep in the bunk is Jyn.

Thanking the force yet again, I reach for her with my unchained hand and gently slide a mop of her brown hair behind her ear.

She stirs slightly and jolts awake after a second. I see she's about to swing out a fist before properly surveying where we are so I grab her arm.

"Hey, hey it's me," I say clutching her fist. "We where knocked by the troopers."

Jyn nods but doesn't reply, her clenched fist envelopes out and entwines with my hand; her cuffed hand is pressed to her leg and I vaguely remember she burned it although the fight in the hangar yesterday seems like a nightmare that won't end.

As usual, I shut myself off from the feelings of fear and desperation our situation would usually induce. I have to be the emotionless captain that always escapes and is never affected by what he's seen.

Jyn's head sis hanging low and I remember that she used to be an imperial prisoner. I've heard how these places break people; make them go insane or suicidal.

Not all the deaths that occur in these holding cells are executions.

Jyn has a haunted look in her eyes though her jaw is set and her muscles are tense. One of the commander's at the base told me that she survived an imperial Labour camp for a year when most only last a month at the most. The thought renews some admiration I have for her after the events of the past few days.

She looks up through a blood crusted fringe and locks eyes with me.

"We're  gonna be okay," is all she manages before wincing in pain.

I find it slightly ridiculous that she's the one reassuring me even though she hated me at first  but she's been through this before and I trust her now. I have to trust her.

"Let me see your leg," I say sharply.

Neither of us seem to talk that much, we're used to brisk answers and short exchanges. War is a language we understand more than compassion.

Jyn slowly pulls her trouser leg up and I try my best not to react to the deep gash and blisters on her inflamed shin. I've learnt that panic from me won't help.

As if she's done it a million times, which maybe she has; Jyn tears the strip of material from the end of her trouser leg and effectively binds the wound. I can't help but wish for antiseptic or bandages but we can survive.

"What happened after I blacked out?" I ask.

"I got knocked out to so don't bother asking." Jyn replies with an undertone of sarcasm.