𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓹𝓲𝓽𝔂 • din djarin

chapter 4: the search

chapter 4: the search —

By the time Din gets back to the Razor Crest, the gash in his side has turned from a sharp pain into a dull ache. The bacta you supplied him with worked well—but bacta can't ease the thought of you from his mind, which stings more than any wound ever could.

Din wants to be angry. He wants to crave revenge for the next time he sees you. He wants to correct your mistake for you and aim higher. But, he can't. Din knows he can't. This is what he's been training you for. You did exactly what he would've wanted you to do. You got him distracted and you seized your opportunity.

The only thing Din wishes he could forget is the flash of fear in your eyes just before you made the move, proving to him that you truly do see him the way everyone else does.

Din works to silence these thoughts as he ascends to the cockpit, sitting in his chair with a slight grunt thanks to the dull discomfort in his side. His hands run over the controls like clockwork, bringing the Crest to life and setting off towards Nevarro. He doesn't know how far behind you he is, but he knows he'll have Karga's expression of surprise to return to. Din's okay with that.

Once the blue light of hyperspace offers Din some time to himself, he releases a sigh he didn't realize he'd been holding, easing himself up from the chair slowly. He leans against it for a moment, taking a deep breath before he makes his way back to the hull. This time, he refuses to take off his helmet, instead simply reaching for his meager medpac and collapsing onto a cargo box. Din looks down to his side and frees his shirt from the restraint of his belt, gritting his teeth at the sight of the wound.

It's not as raw as before thanks to the bacta, but it needs some clean up. Din reaches for his cauterizer, knowing that your blow is going to leave quite the scar on him. He chuckles lamely to himself at the thought. You've already left scars on him—but this is the first time he's really seen one. He sucks in a sharp breath and presses his thumb down to light it up, letting it burn the skin. Din tries not to let the sounds of his weakness pass through his modulator, but he can't help it as the pain of the process burns through him. All he can think of is how it hurts much worse than when he first got the wound. You hurt him so beautifully. There's nothing beautiful about this.

Din pauses his cauterizing, shaking his helmet a bit to shake the thoughts through his mind. He attributes such thoughts to his pained state, leaving it at that as he lights up the cauterizer again.

With each flash of the cauterizer's light, Din sees a new image of you from tonight. The sparkling of your dress under the lights. The twinkle in your gaze the one time you met his eyes in the midst of your dance. The shine of his cuirass when your hand was upon it. Even the glint of your blade in his side, tearing him apart in every way. Din doesn't know if the pain of this is worse than that in his chest when he remembers that look of fear in your eyes—the pain of the reality that no one wants to know who's within the beskar.

Din pulls the cauterizer away harshly as he finds his chest heaving, his thoughts having just caught up to his actions as he feels a large sense of overwhelming. He doesn't know why he's thinking these things. Din's spent his entire life since swearing the Creed never letting anyone know who he is beneath the beskar. He's spent his time with you trying to get you to surpass him. He's not supposed to seek anything else from you. He's supposed to hate you, now more than ever with the mark of your blade in his side.

Instead, he looks upon it with warm eyes, his chest swelling with pride at the way you hadn't held back.

Din clenches his jaw as he burns his skin again. The pain is a welcome distraction from the torment of his mind. This time, he doesn't hold back his string of pained grunts and curses, instead letting these sounds further distract him as he finishes off the wound. When he finishes, Din throws the cauterizer back in the medpac, listening to it hit whatever materials sit inside as he digs recklessly for a bacta patch. He realizes he only has one left, causing him to huff as he secures it against his skin. Shopping for medical supplies is one of Din's least favorite things to do. Anything that reminds people he's a human under all that armor is undesired.