A/N: if you hadn't guessed, father and buir are two people -- father is Din's biological dad, and buir is his adoptive Mandalorian dad.
TW: panic attack, claustrophobia
Din's Point of View
The Crest was Din's first true home.
Before it, there'd been Aq Vetina, but that had stopped feeling like home after his father had told Din he would always be his father's precious daughter.
The Covert was home for the longest time. That was where his buir was, where his friends were, where his training took place. Where he belonged.
But then Grogu had come along, and he touched something in Din that had been dormant for the longest time. He wanted to take a break from bounty hunting and just settle down for a while. Take care of the kid. Not worry about the Empire. Maybe even remove his helmet.
That was before the quest for the Jedi, though, and Din had dutifully tried to carry out the Way.
And in less than a rotation, his son and his home were stolen from him. It came as no surprise, then, that he had a panic attack immediately after boarding the Slave I.
He'd climbed the ramp into the ship and felt a tightness in his chest, one that hadn't been there since his buir died all those years ago. Boba walked to the cockpit and looked back as if expecting Din to come with him, but Din had waved his hand and, unable to speak for fear of breathing too heavily, and indicated he'd be using the vac-tube.
As soon as he was inside the little room with the door locked, he wrenched off his helmet and let the panic drown him. The walls closed in, curving inwards to trap Din. He was frozen to the floor, one hand on his helmet, the other on his chest, kneeling. It felt like there was some sort of stair his breathing had to jump over -- he was leaping for the wall, unable to get a breath, something catching in his lungs.
Then Din's breathing leapt over the stair and he took in a grateful breath, the black spots disappearing from his vision. His breath caught again and he found himself back at the base of the figurative wall, trying to get a breath, leaping for the top but never quite pulling in enough.
Din needed to breathe. He knew he did. He just... couldn't. Something was stopping the normal cycle of in, out, in, out. And he was still frozen, tears streaming down his face.
Boba rapped on the door. "Mando?" he called. "Are you all right?"
Din wanted to yell, "Fine! I'm fine! Everything's fine!" But he couldn't open his mouth. Boba knocked again.
Din had been too quiet for too long. You need to get over this, he told himself, but there was no strength behind the words. It's all in your head. You can push through.
But he couldn't. Din's arms tingled and he realized he could move them again. He didn't question his body, just jammed the helmet back on his head. Then he passed out.
• • • • •
Boba's Point of View
Mando had gone into the fresher room five minutes ago and he wasn't out. Boba was worried. He knocked on the door. "Mando?" he said through the door. "Are you all right?"
There was no reply, which was concerning. Boba knocked on the door again.
Still no response. There was a loud bang, like metal on plastoid.
Boba was more worried than he should have been, probably. "I'm coming in!" he yelled, and pushed the hidden button to override the lock on the inside.
Mando was sprawled on the floor, helmet on, not moving. He seemed to be breathing, though, which was good.
"Fennec!" Boba shouted. "I need your medical training!"
Fennec leapt directly from the cockpit down onto the main deck. "What's happened?" she asked, but a tinge of unease entered her tone.
"It's Mando," Boba replied, picking up the large man, which was no easy feat. He hefted the beskar-clad bounty hunter onto the row of seats horizontally. "He's breathing, but I'm not sure what's wrong," Boba explained as Fennec bent over the still figure.
"I can't glean anything from under this armor. We'll have to take this off."
Boba furrowed his brow but nodded. His HUD wasn't picking up any traces of poison or other toxins.
Mando shifted on the bench. Fennec was already going for his chestplate, but Mando held up a hand. "Wait," he said, voice gravelly. The wince was audible as he sat up. Fennec opened her mouth to say something, but the Mandalorian cut her off again. "I'm fine," he promised, sitting up fully.
Din's Point of View
"Do you know what happened?" Fennec asked.
"I'm not --" he started, but sighed, shoulders slumping. "It was a panic attack," he admitted.
Worry settled into the creases in Fennec's face. "Do they happen often?"
Din shook his head. "I haven't had one since I was young."
"And you passed out because of this attack?" Boba asked. Din nodded.
Fennec blew out a stream of air. "I'll confess, I'm a little out of my league here. But I think the initial danger is past. One thing I do know is that people who panic often think it's all in your head. As you can see here, though, it's not. What's mental has real and damaging physical effects in response." Din nodded understanding.
Fennec stood up from her crouch. "Is there anything else we can do for you now?"
Din eyed her warily through his visor. It was strange to be cared for like this, when there were no strings attached. "I don't think so," he answered honestly.
"All right," Fennec smiled and turned to leave.
"I'm Din," Din blurted, against his best judgement.
"Din?" Fennec spoke, as if testing it.
"That's my name," he replied, and Fennec said, "Din. I like it."
Me, too, Din thought. And then, quieter, Maybe finding a new home isn't so hard after all.