STAR WARS IMAGINES

din djarin | close call

"I'm not interested." 

"Not interested?" He scoffed. "I can't imagine that being true." 

You shot him a dirty look. He looked like a normal human man; he wore nice clothes, he had sharp blue eyes, he towered over you. "Let me go."

"Come on, girl," he said. "Just give me a shot at this."

"No." You yanked your hand away. He quickly snatched it back, almost toppling forward and knocking you over. 

"I'm not giving you an option!" he yelled directly in your face. You flinched against the smell of drunkenness spilling off of his lips. 

"You only have one option," Mando's voice said, "which is to let go of her, like she said." The gun in his hand clicked. He pushed it directly onto the back of the man's skull. "You know, I've been searching a long time for you. It'd be a shame if I had to kill you before we could discuss business."

So this was Ree'laty. He laughed and turned his head. You were very aware of how little space was between you and this man. You were practically on top of the bar, trying to keep your face away from his as far away as possible. His grip on your wrist was bone-crushing. 

"I don't discuss business on weekends," he said. "I have fun. And I celebrate with all of my friends." He glanced around the bar. Several creatures lifted their bottles and glasses and cheered. "Feel free to join in, Mandalorian. You and this girl can join in on the fun. If she can accompany me, of course." 

"I don't want a drink," he said. "And I can't speak for her, but I doubt she wants one in the presence of your company either." 

"What she wants isn't really important," Ree'laty laughed, shaking his head. "The choice belongs to the man with the upper-hand." 

Mando tilted his head to the side. You were sure this sentence bothered him. His fingers twitched, eager to push down on the trigger. But this man was offering a job that he desperately needed. The Razor Crest was almost out of fuel and was in desperate need of repairs. "And I'm guessing that's me, since I have the gun to your head."

"I thought you were here to discuss business. I do have a job for you." The grip around your wrists tightened as he pushed you slightly to the side. "Are you interested in it or not?"

"I was," he said, and he pulled the trigger. The man's head flew back and you gasped, feeling the grip on your wrists loosen. His body fell to the ground hard at your feet, blood spilling from the side of his head. "But I'm not anymore."

The entire cantina collectively gasped and screamed. Some of the men, drunk and full of anger, moved forward. Mando didn't bother to look at you when he said, "Go outside." And you didn't think to argue, you just stepped over the corpse and out the doors. 

Outside was cold --- borderline freezing. It smelled good out there, with the air fresh and the wind blowing gently through the lush trees that somehow still kept their leaves despite the winter the planet was in. Two minutes passed by before the cantina doors opened and you heard the familiar heaviness of his footsteps as he walked up behind you and stopped. 

"I told you not to cause any trouble," he said. 

You crossed your arms and turned around slowly to face him. "Oh, I'm sorry. It's like I asked him to grab a hold of me like that and hold me against my will?"

"I'm not blaming you," he said, holding up his hands slightly. "I'm only saying that we shouldn't have split up. It wasn't a good plan. And it was your plan."

"That you agreed to! I know it wasn't a good plan, but it was our only option to find him. Which you shot him. And what was that for? First job we've had in two weeks and you killed him just like that."

"He had his hands on you."

"He's not the first one to do that," you reminded him. 

"He was the first one to do it that bothered me," he said. His head dropped and he walked the rest of the way towards you. You stared at him sympathetically; you wished you could see his face, to know what he was thinking beneath that mask. "He was the first to do it when we're..."

When you were with him. When he cared about you. Before the two of you were just strangers, taking care of one another, defending one another, but not taking anything personally. But something had changed in the last year and the severity of one another staying safe had grown. He was terrified of something happening to you, and the proof was in this moment here. He had ended the life of someone offering him a job before he even took the job. This was completely out of character for him.

"I know," you said. 

"And I saw how scared you were," he said. "You've never looked so scared before."

"I don't think you've been very observant then, because I get scared every single time." You tried to crack a joke, but he didn't respond. "Din---"

Rarely did you use his name. Rarely. And never did you use it in public.

"He hurt you," he said. He looked at you finally. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," you told him, "I'm just stressed and that's why... why I acted how I did. I'm not mad at you, of course I'm not. We really needed those credits, you know." He nodded and you moved forward, putting one hand on his shoulder and one on the side of his helmet, where his cheek would be. You felt guilty. You shouldn't be angry at him for this --- for worrying about you, for protecting you. "We can find the credits somewhere else. Will you look at me?"

"I am," he said, his voice hoarse. He took your hand and observed the bruises on your wrists. You flinched slightly. "I should've shot him twice."

You smiled. "Now you're being over-dramatic. But honestly, now... I might like to see it. Come on. Let's go home." 

"Home," he agreed, and his hand found yours and you both left the strange planet together.