#update: it was road rage :( a woman cut a guy off at the drive thru so he fucking shot her. what the hell is going on anymore i hate it here

[electoons]

another day another taco bell drive thru murder-suicide

[pingou7]

A car, two cops and a stardust — a RebelCaptain road trip fic

by @pingou7 pingou  for @thestarbirdfromtheashes Starbird

(aka the Road trip fic Diego Luna’s filmography made me write)

Read and enjoy, and please consider leaving me a few words.

Summary:

As the dusty roads criss under Kes Dameron’s old car, Cassian Andor lets the wind mess with his hair through the open window. Dust, sunshine, laughter, its easy to recapture the taste of days long gone.

(…)

At a gas station near Corpus Chirsti, when they climb back after taking a piss, both jump out of their skins as a random brunette, eyes thunderous, hisses dangerously from the backseat:

“Just pretend I’m not here.”

UPDATE: Part 3 is up!

Note: I thank @ruby-red-inky-blue for letting me burrow the name of Cassian’s little brother from her story The World Through A Scope! Danke mein Freund.

Read on AO3 (or under the cut)

Part 3 — From Arizona to Gina’s House, San Diego, CA. Day 2

She’s whimpering incoherently, calling out to her Papa, raging about some Saw and Cassian nudges her awake before switching gears. Kes groans on the back seat, rubbing his eyes, but he holds his tongue, while, disoriented, she tries to control her breathing and toys with her necklace.

“Jyn, you’re okay?”

She nods and asks where they are — Arizona, they’re nearing Tacna, it’s close to 9AM — they’ll soon stop for breakfast. It’s Cassian’s treat, so no drive-thru this time, she could have something close to an English breakfast if she feels like it. She seems surprised by the offer, but she soon declares that’s she’s always up for a cuppa of oolong and scrambled eggs with sausage. Confirming his hypothesis about her being British, he figures that’s about as much comfort as he’s allowed to give her. Thankfully, it was the right thing to do since her shoulders aren’t so tense anymore, and she exhales.

That’s how the trio finds itself at the Ligurta Station Restaurant, in Wellton, which is precisely crowded because renowned for its breakfasts. It’s the reason why usually Cassian and the Damerons prefer to refuel before that, in Tacna. But the cops keep this to themselves as they dig in their own plates. There Kes calls home and chats a bit with a downhearted Poe — he’s sick, while Papa and Uncle Cass have fun without him… — and overall it’s nice to have good food, great company for all it’s unexpected, and to be relatively close to San Diego.

“I don’t know about you, guys, but I need the restroom.”

“Do you need us to accompany you?” Kes asks, seeing her scanning the crowd intently.

“Why, you don’t trust me to return to you?”

“Trust goes both ways,” Cassian retorts and she blinks at him.

“I’d be a fool to ditch you now, you’re the best cover I have, I’m just gonna pee.”

When she comes back and they’re ready to drive the last portion, perhaps out of defiance, she cheekily passes each arm under theirs as they exit, making Kes chuckle. Cassian remains stone-faced, but pulls himself a bit closer to her than strictly necessary, and all three walk to the car.

Eventually, after the third rotation and last three hours of driving, they arrive at lunch time in front of the house of Gina Consuelo Alvarez Cuarón. Jyn is not the only one letting out a relieved sigh, for hers was not the only countdown, though the guys — amongst endless chatter — have not evoked it, least they bring misfortune. Charolastras are superstitious creatures, perhaps, but the frailty of the happy woman welcoming them confirms they were right to hurry up.

Cassian and Jyn stand together as Kes greets the effusive lady and explains why neither Shara nor Poe are here, but things get awkward when he tries to introduce the unknown woman they came with.

“Is she your sweetheart, Cariño?” Gina asks Cassian with a serene smile.

“I’m not,” Jyn answers readily, “my name is Jyn and Cassian is… we’re friends.”

“He’s her white Knight,” Kes supplies with a shit eating grin his brother can certainly punch it right off his face.

But weirdly this explanation seems to placate the old woman — like Cassian is used to be chivalrous to every damsel that appears on the back seat of car… — and after patting his hand benevolently, she gives them their space with no further comment.

Jyn asks for the phone, of course, presumably to update her people, and both brothers turn a blind eye as they entertain their host the best they can. The woman they consider like an aunt seems mortified by the fact she did not cook them anything. They downplay it, as she is the one they went to see, not her recipes, but it’s clear that she’s worse than she’d let on, on the phone. As she asks about little Poe, Cassian sees the proud father setting his jaw remorsefully. Suddenly he’s very glad for driving as much as they did since they’ve left Corpus Christi, and not just for Jyn’s sake.

Speaking of her, through defiantly raised, her chin quivers just a little bit after her phone call. She’s quick to cover it, of course, saying a few banalities to Gina who all but beams at her, but he caught that, and Kes sent her a worried glance too. He beckons her over, and she sits besides Cassian, and while their fingers brush under the table for a few seconds, her palm is sweaty.

If only they knew what hails her, who are the people she’s hiding from, and why… the scraps of information they’ve gathered so far aren’t enough to draw any conclusions from. All through the frugal dinner, he can’t help but feel frustrated, about Jyn’s muteness, about Gina’s bad health, about Kes’ forced gaiety. He wishes Shara or even Kay were here, almost childishly, but there’s just an old woman, two cops and a fugitive.

Cassian lends the room that is supposedly his when he stays over to Jyn, and obviously has to bunk in with Kes, something they haven’t had to do — outside of work and service — since they were nineteen or so. It’s obvious neither are looking forward to that aspect of recapturing the good old days. Despite having the speaker on, Cassian feels like a third wheel as soon as Kes calls his wife:

“Hello Babe, we’ve just arrived at Gina’s, how are you both?”

“We’re fine, it’s nice to have our little man all to myself. Things went okay for you on the road?”

“Yep, don’t worry, everything’s fine, only we somewhat picked up a stray.”

Cassian mouths “whipped” to him, despite knowing Kes couldn’t have kept Jyn’s presence to himself if he valued his manhood, but his next answer made him throw is pillow at the married man anyway.

“Another dog? BB8 may be cute as hell, but the pup’s enough already.”

“No, it’s not a dog. From the looks of it, green eyes, claws, defensive attitude, it’s a wayward cat. Cassian have taken quite a fancy to her I’d say.”

“Screw you Dameron!”

The traitor is laughing so much Shara senses her husband is most likely bullshitting again and she groans:

“Guys, I told you I don’t want to play the referee between you. I’ll leave that to Kay when you’re at the precinct. Just, Cass, promise me you won’t get too scratched by this wayward cat, whoever she is.”

Now Cassian is internally cringing — of course Shara Bey-Dameron would have picked the analogy right away… — but he still agrees because these two busy-bodies and their son are the only family he has left. They may be overbearing, but he’s glad to have them looking out for him. Wanting to give them privacy, he leaves the room, regretting the fact that he’s not smoking anymore, for it would have given him something to do.

Jyn stays just on the other side of the door to their adjoining rooms. He ponders about knocking and seeing what she was up to, but then decides against it, because it would be too stalker-ish. The urges he is feeling since she appeared in the car just yesterday afternoon confuse the hell out of him and there’s no need to add substance to Kes’ suspicion of a crush, but she swings the door open anyway.

She wears a bathrobe that covers the essential and she’s so petite it dwarfs her a little. She seems surprised to see him in the corridor and it’s obvious, from the way she’s (un)clothed to the towel she holds under her arm, that she plans to take a shower in the bathroom that is two doors down.

“Oh, Cassian.”

“Hi, Jyn. Kes is on the phone, so I… wanted to give them privacy.”

“I’ll be back in a jiffy,” she replies, showing him the towel with her chin. “So, do you want to hang out a moment?”

“Really?”

He is surprised that she didn’t hesitate to offer, considering the amount of time they’ve spent together in a cramped space already. Her fingers come to touch his wrist as a welcoming gesture. Her nails are cropped short, so definitely no scratches on the horizon, then, Cassian muses, having a hard time repressing his smile. Jyn musts sense something because immediately as he enters, she says, a warning in her tone:

“It’s the least I can do, you would have this room for yourself if not for me, but I’m sure your brother is gonna barge in here soon anyway. He doesn’t like me very much.”

He doesn’t know how she got that impression. Kes didn’t sound too annoyed with Shara on the phone, then again after the cat comment, Cassian didn’t feel like sticking around. Maybe he would not have liked what his mocking brother has to say about Jyn — or about him, for that matter. Still, out of fairness, he replies:

“Kes likes everyone as a rule, you haven’t done anything to earn his distrust so far. I’m the circumspect one.”

“I don’t know about that. You don’t seem cold to me,” she says, surely referring to the uncharacteristic way he came to her rescue.

“Not to you, no,” he responds huskily, taking a step towards her.

“I’m glad.”

These words make him happy, for some reason and as she goes to wash, he is almost smiling again.

The room hasn’t changed since the first time he’d been there. He can’t help but snoop around a little, and to his delight she had left her clothes within reach.

In her vest he finds an handful of cash, not enough to pay a plane ticket or anything, a prepaid phone with a broken screen… and in an inner pocket, some ID: Passports, green cards… there are several of them, actually, all with her photo but different names. His blood turns cold and finding two more worrisome items, he replaces all his discoveries and tries to focus on something else for now, it’d be better once his brain had processed all this evidence, calmly.

In a corner of the nice but outdated room, his preteen self is stiffly standing besides Dameron — if his hair had been way too long, Kes on the other hand, sported a shorter haircut, heavily spiked with hair gel. They were fourteen, or perhaps fifteen for Kes, still wearing black from head to toes, because they bore the full mourning of Gina’s sister, Dolores. Cassian spoke English already, while his brother had not bothered until then. They look like babies but Cassian felt world weary already and it shows, because behind him, Jyn suddenly says:

“Even I would recognize you at once, with him grinning and you frowning.”

“Christ! How can you sneak up like that?!”

“You were distracted, obviously.”

Yes, he was, but still, he’s not easily taken by surprise and it takes some skills — perhaps of the professional kind? — to manage this for the second time in a row. He notes this in the corner of his mind as he considers the granny-like nightgown she wears — it goes to her ankles — and her hair, longer than he’d thought.

“I’m so tired,” she says, flopping back onto the bed, “and I’m not even the one driving.”

“Let’s just say you’re not the only one who’s in a rush. We’ll take our time once we leave San Diego. But Gina was expecting us, so we quickened the pace.”

“She seems like a nice lady. She offered me some of her granddaughter’s clothes for tomorrow, but I am fine with the clothes I got on my back. I’m not often in girlie clothing anyway… but she’s very kind.”

“Yes, she is really sweet. But she’s also old and a little sick, so…”

He leaves the rest hanging up in the air, but she understands and seeing him still standing, taps the bed next to her. He comes over and sits next to her, on the mattress, his back against the wall and his legs spread in front of him.

“So, she’s your aunt?”

“The same way Kes is my bro. She pulled us out of the gutter after her sister died, in Mexico. She didn’t have to, did it anyway. Her husband, Alfonso, he was Spanish. Brought us there a summer, in Pamplona, when we were barely twenty, and Kes met Shara.”

“Pretty romantic.”

“Yeah, I’m not one for romance, but these two are made for each other.”

Both stare at the ceiling but it’s not so bad. For all his qualities, his brother has never truly known the value of silence, of just staying besides someone and sharing the same air, for the beauty of it. He hears her breathing next to him and the sound lulls him a bit. He can’t hear anything else, but he has spent so much time in the car that the vibration of the motor is still present in his body, he feels it like a tidal wave. My, he’s getting older.

“You can sleep with me,“ she eventually whispers as he gapes at her. "Seriously Cassian, if I wanted to do the nasty, you think I’d use that line?”

“Kes would have, he probably did at some point, in fact. But I get what you mean. Thanks for the offer, but I really should get back to him. From what I recall, he likes to grab all the covers.”

“I don’t,” she replies as he sits up, preparing to go, “listen, the truth is… I could use some company.”

He reads in her eyes that she’s afraid of finding herself alone, in a strange place, far away from her brother and with people still on her heels for a reason she has not given yet. He has a really bad feeling about this, but he complies because it probably cost her to admit as much. He feels a rush that he really shouldn’t when smiles at him, a real blinding smile that shows teeth, and if he ever had some doubts before, he can’t deny he’s a total goner.

“Goodnight Cassian.”

“Sleep well, Jyn, tomorrow is another day.”

He feels stupid for telling such platitude, for a second. Only… it was what his parents used to say to him, he realizes, suddenly petrified on the mattress, while she rolls on her side. He doesn’t know what it means, but he’s sure it’s no coincidence: he’s worked too hard to suppress any unwanted reminder of his life before first grade.

There was a time when he knew Kes (his parents and the Damerons had been friends before they were even born) but he wasn’t his brother yet. He had another, a toddler who had learned to walk while gripping his legs, who had been all curls and smiles, a cherub, called back to heaven far too soon. Lord, I command you the soul of my brother Marco, so that he may be safe in your embrace, until the end of all days, Amen.

She must have sensed him crossing himself, or maybe he let out a sound, because Jyn comes unbearably closer and the clean scent of soap fills his nostrils and locks unwanted recollections — and reflexes — in the depths of his memory. He tries to put his hands somewhere, since usually he’s a pillow hugger, but he doesn’t know where to put them without touching hers. He pulls back hastily, force himself to sleep on his back. He’s counting her evening breaths until her fingers touch his, just barely, then he drifts away.