His back doesn’t hurt him all the time, but it aches now, aches from the cold. Some injuries heal with a scar, some are deep wounds in your soul, but his back… His knee is good with a brace, his shoulder just needs lotion after a shower, but his back… It aches, and he’s useless with it. He wants off this planet, stupidly hopes that the Empire will discover Hoth before the month is out, but until then, he feels utterly useless.
“Relax,” she whispers into his ear, and he’s trying to, he really is, but it’s hard to relax when everything just hurts. Jyn had done this, so long ago, when he was first released from medical. They had both rubbed the soothing balms laced with bacta into the other’s skin, but Jyn’s skin had healed. His issues were deeper, all the way to the bone.
And she had learned. He had never asked, but she had learned, had studied old texts, had asked questions, had gone to every appointment. She had spent time, so much time, learning his back, his muscles… He never had to ask. She would just give him a look, like she knew, because she did know. She knew when his back ached, knew just where to push, just how hard and how long, and without fail, he felt like a new man.
Tag: back pain
He never has to ask. She can tell just by looking at him – the rigidity of his stance, the hard angle of his jaw, his mouth set in a tight grimace. She powers down her data pad and gestures for him to join her on the bed. He does, lifting his arms so she can pull off his shirt. Her hands stay on his skin as he eases onto his stomach, his muscles screaming in protest.
She starts with his shoulders where the pain is least intense. He gives in to the temptation to close his eyes as her hands work over his body, solid yet impossibly gentle. Normally she works in silence, but he can tell by her energy that she’s dying to tell him something.
“I stopped by Chirrut’s training session today.” He hums in acknowledgment. “You won’t believe it.”
“Bodhi actually went on the offensive, for once?”
“More than that. He won the match.” Cassian grunts a laugh. “He did!”
“Against who?”
“Tonc.”
Cassian scoffs. “Tonc let him win.”
“I wish you’d have more faith in our boy.”
“I have plenty of faith in him. I also know Tonc is madly in love with him and would throw the match in a heartbeat.”
The last syllable comes out a little strangled as she gets closer to the base of his spine. They never talk during this part. Jyn listens intently to his breathing, knowing he’ll never explicitly say when he’s in pain. She takes the cues his body gives her and adjusts her hands accordingly.
When the worst of it is over, her hands travel all the way back up to his shoulders. Her thumbs work in diligent circles and he knows the therapy aspect of this is over. Everything she’s doing now is simply meant to relax him. It’s when she begins to hum – a melody her mother taught her that’s words are long forgotten – that he truly lets go.
Rebellions are built on hope 