A family can be 2 traumatised soldiers and their 30 kids (2)
It was incredible what some direction could do.
With toys and games, things to occupy the kids, the fighting amazingly slowed. It didn’t stop all together and Reno was still unfortunately a little asshole of a kid, but then again Jyn was starting to suspect that that was just his personality. At least from there, Jyn was somehow able to set a routine that not only worked, but actually seemed to let the kids thrive.
Mornings were dedicated to learning in the classroom – Kady’s basic improved every day (Jyn almost hugged her when the 10-year-old had asked whether she could use the refresher without messing up one word) and Jyn spent that time attempting to teach what felt like every life-lesson she could ever remember her parents teaching her. The afternoons were spent in the training gym, Jyn at least a little more confident there in knowing what kind of combat to teach. The younger ones ran and played on the gym equipment that Jyn had threaten Mothma to order for her, while the older children handled blasters and other weapons.
“How come they get blasters and I don’t?” Rivi would always whine. “I’m old enough!”
“Being old enough isn’t what counts,” Jyn would always remind her. “Until I think you’re mature enough to handle one, you’re staying with the little kids.”
Doing the same thing over and over again didn’t sound too interesting in theory, but Jyn found that there was a kind of comfort in the routine. The children had time to get used to things, could remember things through the repetition and regular actions, and it gave Jyn something to focus on.
(She didn’t want these children realising their new commanding officer was actually a hot mess).
“You’re still not sleeping, are you?” Cassian asked her one evening.