Chapter Text
Look— It’s not like she intended for this to happen.
To be quite frank, Jyn Erso hadn’t really been thinking at all. Not when she committed the petty arson charge and got shipped off to Yavin City Juvenile Detention Center for the summer.
But the universe didn’t seem to care about that.
Now she sits anxiously on the toilet seat, leg bouncing as she waits for the seconds to pass. The alarm on her phone blares, reverberating around the small gas station bathroom that stinks of piss and disinfectant.
Jyn rushes to the sink where the plastic test rests. Her hands shake as she grips the flimsy plastic. Two lines, in a sickening magenta, condemning her to her fate.
“Fuck.”
In her defense, there’s not a plethora of birth control options when you’re locked up for three months in a youth detention center. Believe it or not, juvie expects its occupants to abstain from sexual activity. Someone should have informed the occupants.
Her first thought is that she cannot keep this baby.
For one, she’s seventeen, eighteen in two weeks, but still. Far too young to have a fucking kid.
Two, Jyn is a fucking mess.
Besides, she hardly remembers her own mother. When Lyra Erso died, she practically took her husband Galen with her. He threw himself headfirst into his research position at the university, leaving an eight-year-old Jyn to fend for herself.
And honestly, it had been going great. Until one night, when Jyn left the gas stove on, filling the apartment with toxic black fumes. Jyn had tried to explain to her frantic neighbors that she was fine. That accidents happened, and she was actually very responsible for her age and could take care of herself.
Her neighbors didn't agree. Neither did CPS.
Since then, Jyn had been under the watchful eye of Saw Gerrera, her mom’s childhood best friend, who also happened to despise her father. That, Jyn thought, was the reason Galen hadn’t visited since her twelfth birthday, when he had made his guest appearance smelling of liquor before promptly vomiting on Jyn’s sneakers.
So when her godfather asks where she’s going from his perch on the beaten armchair, Jyn responds with a curt, “out” before taking off.
A light mist of rain blankets the streets, enveloping the streets of Eadu in a somber gray. Jyn stomps down to the bus station, boots crunching against the dead leaves littering the pavement.
She scrounges up a few crumpled bills she swiped from Saw’s wallet and shuffles onto the metro. Thankfully, the bus is mostly empty, save for an elderly man who Jyn assumes is homeless, based on his tattered clothes and the faint scent of cheap beer clinging to him. She heads directly towards the back of the bus. Jyn plops down beside her messenger bag, which is strewn unceremoniously atop the cold plastic seat.
After a moment of digging, she produces the shitty earbuds she nabbed from Walmart. Shoving them into her ears Jyn scrolls through her playlists, but none seem right for the mood. Then again, it’s not like there’s some abortion playlist she can queue up. She settles for some emotional indie song with some girl crooning about her lost lover. It doesn’t really matter anyway.
In thirty minutes, she’ll be in Yavin. From the bus station, it's a ten-minute walk to Planned Parenthood. In roughly two hours, Jyn Erso will be unpregnant.
She hadn’t been to Yavin since she was released from juvie in September. Now in the grey December, the city takes on a bleaker tone. The once flourishing trees are now barren, the sunny days eclipsed by snow clouds. It’s downright depressing how the whole town has taken on a grey hue, the only color being the crimson tail lights of the retreating bus.
According to her maps app, it’s a seven-minute walk to Planned Parenthood, fairly straightforward.
A puff of steam huffs out of her as Jyn bounces on her toes, a desperate plea for the shitty secondhand jacket to keep her warm against the freezing cold. With a defeated sigh, she brings the woolen scarf to her nose and stomps in the direction of Fourth Street.
If she had known graffitiing the walls of her school would cause such a ruckus, Jyn would have painted something far more refined than a plethora of dicks. To be fair to her, though, Jyn wasn't exactly known for her critical thinking skills.
That’s how she found herself in a sterile room of the Wobani Juvenile Detention Program, sitting across from the pinched-faced faculty director. He’s droning on about some bullshit about how he's the ‘captain of this operation,’ and any disrespect would not be tolerated. She barely refrains from rolling her eyes.
Jyn was then given a tour by one of the juvie’s employees, an upright girl with a severe frown etched into her tight face. She’s shown her dorm, a small, cramped space that will be her home for the foreseeable future, the cafeteria, and, most intriguing to her, the recreation room.
It’s here where Jyn meets the boy who would irrevocably change her future.
She’s drawn to him like a moth to a flame, enchanted by the light he exudes. He’s leaning against a cinder block wall, looking deliciously nonchalant in dark jeans and a hoodie. He’s fiddling with something in his front pocket, eyes scanning the room like a hawk. When his gaze lands on her, Jyn has to suppress a shiver.
Her boots squeak against the polished floors as she approaches him, announcing her arrival. Dark eyes dart up beneath long lashes when Jyn saddles up next to the man.
God, he’s so fucking pretty.
He seems to be her age, if not a year or so older, with a deceivingly youthful face that gives him a boyish charm. She raises a brow at him, gazing pointedly at his shifting hoodie pocket.
Thin lips pull into a smirk. He gives her a nod in acknowledgment, chin motioning downwards.
He flicks something out of his pocket, a brief flash of white, but not before she manages to get a good glimpse of it. A pack of cigarettes.
“You want one?” a low accented voice rasps. Oh, that blasted voice. If Jyn hadn’t already been enamored by his handsome looks, his delectable baritone solidified her fate.
She nods, biting her lower lip, fully aware of how his pupils are blown wide at the gesture.
She uses her body to shield him as he struggles to pull out a single cigarette. Tan fingers brush against hers, the barest of touch, yet it sends a bolt of electricity through her nervous system.
Jyn can't help the small smile that tugs at her lips, readjusting herself so that her back is to the stranger.
“Name’s Cassian.” He murmurs, barely loud enough to be heard over the unrelenting chatter surrounding them.
This could be fun.
She glances at him over her shoulder, shooting him a toothy grin.
“Jyn.”