A/N: This started out as one thing and then wandered - that's what happens when it takes three nights to write something (you lose track of where you were heading with the plot.) Anyways, this isn't the best - I actually don't really like it... but, I felt like it was decent enough to publish? I dunno.

****

When it rains.

It pours.

Especially on Yavin 4.

Sighing heavily, you stare out into the downpour from beneath the cover of the Base's hangar, squinting through the harsh sheets of rain, making the looming darkness even thicker.

He was supposed to have been back this morning.

Now, it's almost time for the nightly rotation switch.

Surely if they had to have taken a detour, or something came up, he would've reported in.

Or at least K-2 would've.

Stepping forward slightly, you hold your hand out into the rain, a puddle of water quickly forming in your palm.

And then, it's gone as you let it fall from your grasp before wiping your damp hand down your face, a quiet groan of uncertainty escaping you.

It wouldn't hurt to check in with Communications again...

Taking one last look out into the increasingly intense rainstorm, a tug of false hope swells within you.

You would pay anything to see the lights of that familiar U-Wing, the one that Cassian practically took over, with the amount of Missions he's been on lately, come into your view, breaking up the rain for a moment.

But, the longer you look, the more distraught you become, silently bowing your head and hurrying back deeper into the dryness of the Base, back towards your Quarters.

Because when he does finally come back, you know for certain that's the first place he'll go.

****

Your heart had sank further when you'd wordlessly padded into the Comms room, the soft murmurs of chatter on and off the radio had reached your ears.

One of the analysts closest to where you stood had almost instantly taken notice of your presence and silently shook his head, a glimmer of compassion in his gaze.

They all knew how close you and the Captain of Rebel Intelligence had become over the years of the seemingly never ending power-struggle against the Empire.

But to once more be given nothing but a sorrowful nod for what seemed like the hundredth time since this morning...

It didn't sit right with you.

Which brings you to where you are now, laying in the makeshift bed the pair of you had long cobbled together after you'd been forced to give up your old Quarters for the arrival of new Alliance members, all that time ago.

It's not like you minded - it just gave you an excuse to be with him as much as possible.

He didn't mind one bit either - though, it did take him quite some time to warm up to the idea of sharing an already small living Quarters.

The rain is still coming down; you can hear it clear as day against the rather old brick walls surrounding you.

The odd rumble of thunder joins in as well, occasionally pulling your drifting state back to reality.

You're desperately trying to keep yourself awake, your eyes weighing heavy as you struggle to keep them open.

It's always been a thing between the pair of you - greeting one another when returning from a Mission.

Cassian has stayed awake far later than any sane person would, for me... I can at least try do the same.

But is he coming back?

He's already hours later than expected... it's been nothing but radio silence all day...

A pang of sorrow ripples through you, a sudden lump forming in your throat as you find yourself holding back a rising flood of tears.

Mentally, you scold yourself for the current state of your emotions.

But, you can't help it.

Sometimes, after holding emotions back for so long... they just surface one day - uncontrollable.

So, you let the tears spring free, the choked sobs wracking through your frame curled up in bed, amongst the blankets.

And as the rain continues to pour, the thunder still echoing, your surge of emotions not ceasing, you somehow find yourself in an uneasy slumber, practically oblivious to your surroundings.

Because sometimes, we all just need an escape from the crushing reality that we either find ourselves trapped in...

Or that our mind conjures up.

****

He knew right well that after raising the attention of those Stormtroopers before he even got a chance to get back to the ship that leaving whatever dingy rock his contact was on, was going to prove difficult.

And it was.

Shots rang out in the streets and he took off running, muttering an array of curses beneath his breath.

He was already later than the Alliance expected him to be.

Later than she expected him to be.

If the informant hadn't been such a lousy lowlife to begin with - he wouldn't have had any of this.

After a rather hasty chase through the city and a few hurried Comm calls to his co-pilot to get the ship prepped, the Captain finally made it out, with only half of the necessary information that the informant insisted they had.

Turns out: people aren't super honest these days.

What a surprise.

In what seemed like eons, the Imperial occupied moon was long gone, an immense relief flooding the Rebel when they'd broken the atmosphere and jumped to hyperspace; the familiarity of the blurring blues and whites a comforting one.

And as the flight back to Yavin 4 dragged on, after he'd jotted down some notes on a Datapad, only two thoughts were on his mind.

One: Y/N's relived expression every time he strides back into Base after being gone.

And two: sleep.

Everything in his body is screaming at him to just get some rest - his eyes even trying to force themselves shut.

But, he refuses to give in, knowing right well that until the ship he's sitting in touches back down on Yavin 4, this Mission is far from over.

****

You awake with a bleary eyed start, your heart pounding in your chest, a foggy confusion pricking your thoughts.

Oddly enough, your Commlink is in your grasp, the other hand firmly grasping the blanket that envelopes you.

You have no recollection of falling asleep, let alone with the piece of technology in your hand.

What you do recall quite vividly however is the utter fear and sorrow you felt before drifting off into a slumber.

A fear and sorrow that comes rushing back to you, hitting you like a blow to the chest.

Rolling onto your side, you check the bedside clock. 

03:00

"Three a-m," You groan with a shaky sigh, flopping back against the stiff mattress beneath you. "And he's still not back."

The lump in your throat from earlier begins to rise once more, even as you try to shove it down.

Nothing works against emotions this strong.

Setting your Commlink beside the clock, you curl up amongst the sheets once again, a series of quieter cries escaping you and filling the relatively thick silence.

A part of you is ready to embrace the worst - he's gone. He's not coming back.

But, the other part is burning with hope.

Some may call it being over-optimistic, but you know Cassian.

He'll do his damnedest to get back to you.

****

His rather fatigued footfalls echo against the hallways of the Rebel Base, the jacket that had once been dry now soaked, draped over the shoulder that doesn't have a backpack slung over it.

Of course it just had to be raining, the one time he gets back late.

Well, it's been more than one time he's been back late, but still.

Sharing small nods with the few skeleton crew up at this rather ungodly hour, the Captain carries on, body practically running on autopilot.

His muscles are aching, head beginning to throb from the usual lack of sleep...

But then, he finally arrives at his destination, unlocking the door and quietly stepping inside the dim room.

Relief cascades through him as he silently sets his bag down by the door, kicking off his boots.

And as his gaze wanders the dark surroundings, a grin, even though no one else is around to see it, spreads across his features when he sets his sights on your sleeping figure, sprawled out in the middle of the bed.

The Captain just chuckles softly, bundling a few pieces of fresh and far more comfortable clothes in his arms before wandering towards the small bathroom this Quarters came equipped with.

He's finally back where he belongs.

He's finally home.

****

You awake to the sound of running water, that, to your surprise, doesn't sound like rain.

Confusion pricks your thoughts as you blearily pull yourself to a sitting position, squinting through the now less of darkness than it had been previously, your gaze searching for...

Another pair of boots sit rather haphazardly at the door, accompanied by a familiar backpack.

And that would explain the light and the running water...

Ease finally fills you as you set your head back down against the pillow, shifting over to your usual side of the bed, simply enjoying the sounds of someone else moving about.

As time stretches on, you find yourself once more beginning to fall back into the depths of sleep, though before you can fall entirely, the light that had once been dim becomes brighter momentarily.

A familiar silhouette appears in the doorway from the bathroom, the light disappearing entirely as it's flicked off, and soft, hurried footsteps begin to near you.

Wasting no time, he wordlessly slips beneath the covers and reaches for you, his familiar hands a welcome sensation over your bare arms.

"I was beginning to think the worst, Cassian," You practically breathe as he pulls you into his chest, humming contentedly.

"There wasn't much I could do," He explains softly, his usual accent sounding thicker, tone barely above a whisper. "You know how it goes."

"Just report in, next time, why don't you?" You scold, a trace of sorrow surfacing that you didn't even realize had until you find rough yet gentle fingers brushing against your cheeks.

"I would've loved to, but our Comms were damaged on our way in. K-2 worked on repairing them, but, they needed more work than we thought."

You wordlessly raise your gaze to meet his warm brown eyes, and almost instantly, you feel yourself relax.

The man holding you simply offers a small grin, gaze darting to your lips for a brief moment before once more focusing on you.

But, you know that look.

You know exactly what he's after.

So, you beat him to it, closing the distance between the pair of you with a murmured, "Idiot," falling from your lips.

He kisses back with equal fervor, the sensation of his lips on yours and his usual stubble brushing against your cheeks, a welcome one.

"I'm glad you're back in one piece," You breathe as the pair of you break apart, panting softly, grins no likely tugging at your lips, even in the dim darkness.

"So am I," Cassian mumbles, settling back against the pillows and pulling the blankets closer around the both of you.

"You look exhausted."

The only reply you receive is a soft huff, the arms securing your smaller frame to his, giving a reassuring squeeze.

Passing the Captain a fatigued grin through your lidded gaze, you snuggle in closer, the sound of his heart beat setting aside your worries for good.

He's back.

He's safe.

But, before either of you drift off entirely, you somehow muster up the last bit of energy to string together the two words that mean so much between the pair of you.

Words that you've always shared in moments like these.

"Welcome home, Cassian."

And yet another soft mumble sounds from the man holding you, and though you can't quite make it out, his actions are enough to tell what he's trying to express.

Grinning inwardly, you take one last glance up at his fatigued yet handsome features, his soft breathing a tell-tale sign he's already beginning to drift off.

So, you join him, allowing yourself to finally feel at ease once more - even if until the next Mission.

Because right now, in this moment, it's just the two of you.

And the future can wait.

Right now, all that matters is you and your Partner.

Even if either of you are too exhausted to do much else than get some well-deserved sleep.