Chapter Twenty-Two: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖑𝖆𝖞.
word count; 7.8k
If there was one thing you weren't expecting, it was catching a cold while trapped in the frigid confinement of the Razor Crest's cockpit, stuck with a frog lady, a baby, and Mando.
Becoming ill had been inevitable. After all, were residing underneath the scorching binary suns of Tatooine for several rotations before joining the Mandalorian and eventually crash-landing on what had presumably been Maldo Kreis, a frozen rock. With a full rotation day spent struggling to prevent hypothermia, then a few brief moments in the hot springs, before abruptly leaving the pools in order to seek shelter from the giant spiders pursuing you... Someone was bound to get sick.
It's just... did it have to be you? Really?
It started with a few sniffles here and there. You worked on the Crest's repairs alongside Din, and a slight disorientation had become noticeable... but you hadn't paid attention to it. Once those repairs were complete and your group managed to escape that dreaded world somewhat safe and sound, everyone was exhausted. Froggy, likely still traumatized by the previous incident, had fallen asleep in her chair with her arms wrapped firmly around her canister as if they could unexpectedly be yanked away from her at any given second. The Child had immediately dozed off on Din's lap—and Din, with his stillness, seemed to be sleeping because you had insisted various times on remaining awake and staying guard in case some pirate, bounty hunter, warlord, or anything remotely dangerous neared.
So, you did just that.
Only, you were cold. Shivering. Despite the half-functioning heater operating in the cockpit, your trembling wouldn't cease. The sniffling worsened, too. Yet you weren't exactly feeling... ill. So you snatched a blanket, settled yourself down in the passenger's seat and... stared at the stars. Observed the countless pin-pricks adorning the pitch-black void of outer-space, infinite and glinting, listened to the soothing sound of the ship's engine running, a gentle vibration that lulled your eyes closed...
And you fell asleep.
Hours later, your eyes snapped open. That chilled sensation, the frequent quivering, none of that had ceased by the time you awoke. Fingers clutching the thin fabric draped around your body, you found yourself incapable of feeling warm. Eyelids heavy, you lifted your head, a dull ache reverberating throughout your skull, eyes then shutting closed as a grimace appeared on your features. Every bone and muscle in your body cramped, likely due to the earlier occurrence. Eyes opening again, your gaze fell on the Mandalorian in his pilot's chair, seemingly awake and double-checking the statistics of the ship's integrity. Mentally, you cursed at yourself for falling asleep instead of keeping surveillance as promised.
Your initial reaction was to search for another blanket. This one was too... thin. Hardly sustained your body heat. Quietly, you stood to seek them although your motions felt... sluggish and sloppy, each jerk of your head accompanied by a painful thump, hands strictly gripping your shivering self. Limited visibility within the dark cockpit caused you to stumble, once—hence making you completely lose your balance, and collide face-first with the floor. The stiff, frigid floor. You nearly cursed. Loudly. But considering others were asleep, you merely groaned as silently as you could and decided to literally lay there. For a few brief seconds. Plainly because you lacked energy, despite the hours you'd previously slept. Your desire to sleep overpowered your need to return to the comfort of your seat—and for a moment, you vaguely considered the idea of easily falling asleep then and there.
But then you heard a sound—presumably Din—and opted to, reluctantly, rise back up. Muscles sore and skull pounding, you turned to meet with the Mandalorian, heavy eyes connecting with his black visor. The stars behind him, painting his beskar and reflecting off the silver steel, were the sole elements allowing you to see him; otherwise, you would've slammed into his armored chest and then you truly would've shouted some damn colorful words. Din's voice rung through the cockpit, hushed and gentle so as to not wake the Frog Lady or the Child (who had surprisingly remained asleep even after your noisy fall).
"Why are you up?"
"I was just... trying to find another blanket," you mumbled. The hoarseness that scratched your throat was noticed then, prominent and irritating. Instinctively, your fingers grasped your arms, digging into the soft fabric of your borrowed shirt. "I-It's freezing in here."
Attempting to clear your throat several times, you lifted a palm to your trachea without realizing Din had stepped away momentarily to retrieve an additional set of blankets. Only when you felt his grip on your upper arm did you notice, reacting to his gentle tug—this time, leading you himself back to your seat in case you tripped again. Once settled back into the chair, you wrapped yourself in your first blanket before Din draped the second over your shivering figure—and he froze. Palms on both sides of your arms, he paused for a second, causing you to open your mouth in order to question him. Until he spoke first, "You're shaking."
"Obviously, y-your heater sucks," you retorted, shrugging his hands off. "You need a new one. Desperately."
He removed a single glove from his hand, without answering. Before you could even comprehend what he was planning on doing, he raised an uncovered hand to your forehead—and now it was your turn to freeze.
"You're hot."
Your face flushed. Not really because of of his statement (because, of course, you knew what he truly meant by that), but more because of the... touching. The bare contact, skin-on-skin, was what had stunned you for a split second. Although swiftly afterwards, you chuckled.
"T-thanks. Did you just notice this, or...?"
Din, though, refused to follow along with your joke. He was no fun.
"That's not what I meant."
You frowned, falsely. "Ouch. That hurt, Mando."
He altered the subject again, instead focusing on the real issue. "You're sick."
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I picked up on that already."
"Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling okay?" he questioned, returning to his seat—and very carefully grabbing the sleeping Child who occupied his chair, before sitting back down and placing the infant on his shoulder instead. The baby had surprisingly stayed asleep, eyes shut closed and ears drooping down as his face rested on the Mandalorian's shoulder. You almost smiled. He was cute.
"I thought it was nothing. But you can go back to sleep now." As you speak, you attempt to get yourself comfortable in the seat again, although that proved to be difficult. Despite there being cushioning, it wasn't the most pleasant cushioning—instead, it was actually quite stiff. But it beats sleeping on the cold, even stiffer floor. "I can stay up and keep watch. I doubt I'll be getting any s-sleep like this."
The distant lights reflecting off his armor made it possible for you to see his shoulders vibrate, slightly. A quiet chuckle escaped his modulator. "You can't stay awake for the life of you..."
"Okay, I'm offended." Your eyes narrowed. Then, you laughed quietly. "Wait, are you talking about that one bet? I wasn't trying. Not really."
Wait—
His helmet shifted to, vaguely, face you. "You weren't?"
Internally, you groaned. Recently awake and sick. You were bound to say something that wasn't the entire truth. Well, maybe it was the truth and maybe you did mean it, but... it wasn't something that Din needed to hear. Definitely not. You probably should've kept your kriffing mouth shut and gone to sleep...
"Just shut up and let me sleep."
His visor returned forwards again. "I thought you were staying guard."
"I changed my mind."
"Alright, do you... need anymore blankets?"
"No, I'm fine. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
You could... hear him smiling underneath that beskar. Biting back a grin of your own, you set your head back and shut your eyes closed, attempting to sleep again. At least a few additional hours would do you good, considering that after arriving at Trask, there's no saying when you'll be able to catch some sleep again.
...but then a familiar sound caught your attention, eyes snapping open, watching the Mandalorian set the coordinates for elsewhere. That piqued your interest, and you quickly asked, "Why are you alternating the coordinates?"
He didn't reply.
"Mandooo?"
"I thought you wanted me to shut up."
You grunted, not amused whatsoever. "Where are we going?" you pressed on.
"Landing on the nearest planet to purchase medical equipment." His gloved hands gripped the throttles then, thrusting the ship forward at a higher speed—as if he were rushed to reach this planet. "I don't have anything that treats a cold."
"Colds normally don't last too long and I can handle it myself. We can still stay on course for Trask."
"Go back to sleep."
And that was it. That was final.
Apparently, there was no changing his mind now.
Part of you wondered why he was suddenly caring for you so diligently recently. He'd cared for you before, but that was... before. Way before the Nevarro incident. So the purpose for his concern over you was unknown and rather perplexing (there was plenty of confusion going on lately, it seemed). The other part of you was actually thankful. While the two of you weren't exactly at best terms—not to mention things were tricky and awkward—he still looked after you. Sometimes, you believed you didn't deserve him but then there were particular factors that altered that belief. That made you think he didn't deserve you after what he'd done, and you were just...
Incredibly stressed out over it all.
Everything was overly complicated and you weren't even sure what to believe anymore.
Had he truly wished for you to stay or was that a lie?
...but why would he lie about that?
Din was right. Sleep would do you good.
You closed your eyes. Tried to go to sleep, but...
You were also nauseous.
Like, very nauseous.
"Mando."
"Hm."
Eyes squeezing shut, you attempted to swallow down the bile that rose within your throat. "I think I'm gonna vomit."
His helmet snapped towards you. "What? Just wait. We're almost there. Five minutes."
"Alright, but if we don't get there in time... I'm stealing your helmet and throwing up in there."
Let's just say it was a miracle you were able to undergo entering the planet's atmosphere. Especially since the ship was in such terrible shape and it made landing plenty more difficult and turbulent than it normally should be. As soon as the ship landed and the cockpit doors unsealed, you practically flew down the ladder, straight into the refresher to dump the scarce contents of your stomach into the vacctube (the noise you caused had likely startled the Frog Lady and the Child—who had awoken from all the ruckus of landing—but oh well). Behind the sealed shut 'fresher door came Din's modulated voice, "Are you okay?"
"Fine!"
Yes, you're completely fine, as you retch one final time.
You stayed there... crouched, for a moment, clutching your stomach and silently hoping nothing else came out. Presuming you wouldn't feel the need to vomit any time soon, you flushed the vacctube and headed out, gripping the fabric of the shirt Din gave you even tighter as your figure still shook. As soon as you left, your gaze fell on the Mandalorian approaching you, the Child in the satchel that swung over his shoulder, hanging loosely against his waist.
"I need some fresh air," you breathed shakily, heading out the already open ramp. Sunlight seeped into the Razor Crest, seemingly warm and soothing whilst you walked down the ramp (with no shoes, actually, but you didn't care), and practically sprinted outside—
Only it was freezing.
Absolutely freezing.
It was probably your fever causing the chill to feel even worse than it truly was, but the temperatures were no different than Maldo Kreis—except there was no snow whatsoever. From what you could see, you were in a hangar. Although you hadn't seen much else because you'd dashed back inside as quickly as possible. Due to the hull of the Crest having been exposed to the vacuum of space for such an extended amount of time, it actually wasn't any better inside. "Nevermind," you muttered underneath your breath as you continued to shiver, quickly grabbing the nearest blanket and wrapping it around your body.
"I'll be back soon," Din informed as he made his way towards you. He set a hand on your shoulder, hesitantly, and you sort of flinched, definitely forgetting how gentle touch felt from him, but didn't shrug his palm away—because maybe you enjoyed the way his thumb lingered over your collarbone—although what with the glove and the blanket, it prevented genuine contact. He squeezed your shoulder slightly and reassuringly. "Just... rest. Don't go out. I don't know much about this planet."
A mere "okay" was all you could manage before you watched him leave, the Child perking his ears at the sight of you and cooing, once, as if saying his goodbyes. You mustered a gentle smile before Din's backside disappeared behind the ramp that lifted up.
Realizing Froggy hadn't come down yet, likely still undergoing her own anxieties after everything that's happened, you climbed the ladder—lacking alertness, with a sloppy-feeling brain—and you immediately met with a concerned frog lady who held onto her canister tightly. She croaked, speaking her worries to you. And you nodded. The delay to arrive at Trask was unsettling her, and she wasn't sure she could wait too long. After all, the eggs only lasted a specific amount of time before they eventually expired, in a way, and were unable to produce offspring from them. They would die off. "I know. I told Mando we didn't have to do this but he... doesn't listen, unfortunately. It'll be quick, though, I promise. You can come down, too, it's perfectly safe."
Other than a few spiderwebs that still dangled across the hull of the ship and the occasional spider remains, there were pretty much no signs of spiders anymore. Not any live ones, at least. Gladly enough. As you both descended the ladder, the Frog Lady spoke again. It was cold. It definitely was. "Yeah, we're back in this kriffing mess again," you sighed frustratingly, uncovering yourself from your blanket and instead setting it over the canister. "I'm gonna go see if I can get Mando's stupid heater to work. Go get yourself something to eat while you can before we have to leave again."
You were by no means an expert on fixing heaters, but, hey, you were freezing your butt off over here and there were currently unborn offspring that could easily die if left in the cold for too long. While Mando did suggest to get some rest—and you had to admit, that did sound wonderful (especially with your intensifying headache)—you wouldn't be capable of sleeping in such extreme temperatures. So you grabbed a toolbox and decided to start repairs on the heater.
Very little success came afterwards.
After what felt like an eternity trying to get the kriffing thing to work properly, the heater eventually sputtered out, leaving you in an even worse situation. Unfortunately, though, there were no hot springs here to keep yourself warm... and even if there were, you weren't sure whether you would hop in, seeing as last time resulted in a complete and utter disaster. Still, you knew Din kept an extra, small-scaled portable heater that was used in the case of an emergency, and so you decided to go searching for that. Normally, he kept it in one of the several crates that littered the ship, so you started searching through them all. He didn't keep much in them, apparently. Just some additional weapons, tools, occasional blankets, random objects you don't even recognize, and inside a separate, tiny box, and your nosiness took over so you opened it, a—
A lightsaber.
Your lightsaber. Honestly, there wasn't a day that went by where you didn't think about this special weapon at least once. It contained a plethora of memories. A purposeful significance. A reminder of who you were in the past. Even though you denounced the title of Jedi, this lightsaber had been something very... treasured to you. Digits wrapping around the familiar hilt, feeling the Kyber crystal within it begin to heat up—practically vibrating upon recognizing your Force signature—you lifted it out. A heavy sigh escaped your lips. It was evident you had missed this weapon—and a part of you was tempted to reacquire it again—but after everything you did... you simply didn't deserve it any longer.
But it was okay. It wasn't like you were a Jedi anyway. If you weren't a Jedi, then why should you have a lightsaber?
It held remarkable sentiment, that was why. From your past. Cycles as a youngling. Years as a teenage Padawan. Your master. Your friends. Your attachments. Obi-Wan, he'd probably be so utterly irritated with you right now. For cycles, he'd warn you very specifically not lose your lightsaber—because it is practically your life-line—and yet, you had handed it off to a Mandalorian for months. One of your friends—Anakin—he probably would've joked about this... poke fun on the whole subject. You actually chuckled to yourself. Then Ahsoka would've defended you and tell him he, himself, lost his own lightsaber more frequently than anyone else. In fact, the three of you had kept a record of who had misplaced their weapon more often. Of course, Anakin had been first place with you in second and Ahsoka in third.
Reluctantly, you set the object back inside and closed the box.
Now you wondered why Din had kept it. For some reason, you expected him to throw it away or something... because if he didn't want you to stay, then why would he keep this? As a memory of you...? You didn't think so. That didn't make much sense.
You had kept a memory of him, though... His Mythosaur necklace was still kept deep in a pocket of your pants, untouched, but still there. Always. To remind yourself of them... Despite the anger constantly felt for Din. Sometimes you only wanted to remember the Child. His cute little giggles. Perky ears. The wisps of white hair on his head. Toothy smile. But sometimes you remembered Din. His gentle touch. His modulated voice. His lips flush against yours...
You sighed. Some things were a mystery, truly. But you set that aside, for now. Temporarily, until you can bring the subject up with Din.
Instead, you focused on finding the portable heater—which, finally, after some rummaging around, you did. The time passed yet you refused to rest. Over the course of a few long hours, you had stitched your shirt back to normal and—as much as you missed that comfortable borrowed shirt—threw your old shirt back on and discarded the other one. Forgot all about it (because you're not supposed to be liking it, remember?).
(Well. You had liked it).
Eventually, though, as Din was beginning to delay for much too long for your comfort, anxiety crept in. Even though you knew full well the Mandalorian was perfectly capable of handling himself, but... you couldn't help worrying. Worrying led to pacing around. Pacing around led to grabbing your armor, cloak, and slightly dented mask. It looked sort of weird but it would do for now. Perhaps you'd purchase another one in the future. As soon as you secured your blaster (and maybe borrowed a few charges from the weapons chamber, for extra precautions), the Frog Lady had squawked with curiosity.
Wrapping your cloak tighter around your frame, you stepped forward. "Listen, I'm heading out. Mando's taking a little too long. You can stay here but it's safer for you to come along. I don't know this planet and I won't be able to protect you if you stay."
Reluctantly, the Frog Lady complied and picked up her canister, strapping it to her back. As you unlocked the Crest and lowered the ramp, that sharp air struck you even through the multiple layers of armor and clothing you wore. Shivering, you silently hoped you didn't seem weak in any way. At least the mask would conceal the look of illness on your face and the hoarseness of your voice with its vocodor. Seeming vulnerable on an unknown planet was not worth risking.
And, well... you nearly had a heart attack right there when some sort of rabid creature launched towards you, snarling with its maw wide-open, exhibiting its sharp fangs. The faint sounds of Froggy screaming as she urgently retreated back to the Crest. A sudden spike of adrenaline prompted you to instinctively set your hands out, as if that would somehow stop whatever the hell this thing is—
A thin whistle reverberated through the landing bay. The animal halted itself. Closed its jaws. Sat down and stared.
"Sorry!" a voice came out of nowhere. Your gaze snapped towards a man who emerged from his office, fairly old and bald-headed as he limped forwards, a cane in one hand that aided him to walk. "I'm sorry, we didn't know there was anyone else in the ship so Janther here thought you had snuck in. I thought the Mandalorian came alone with the little green baby thing."
"It's... okay," you breathed out, a soft laugh escaping your mouth as you eyed the animal in front of you. No longer panic-struck, your brain was finally capable of comprehending that this was an Akk dog. Scarlet scales stretched across its entire body, plating his figure in armor that provided protection. His wide, dark eyes were bright in a way, your own reflection mirroring and shifting as he tilted his head with interest. The thing was... weird, but cute in its own strange little way. Janther probably wasn't even full-grown, as he only seemed to be about as tall as your knees. Akk dogs, as you recalled, happened to grow considerably taller as adults. Still, no matter the size, you wouldn't have messed with him... he could be rather dangerous if provoked.
"Can I... pet him?"
The man—whom you assumed to be the hangar manager—nodded with approval. So, you outstretched a hand and carefully set the palm on the animal's scaled forehead to exhibit that you were not hostile towards him. Janther had noticeably stiffened for a split second, although as soon as he familiarized himself with your scent and realized you truly meant no trouble, he relaxed. You chuckled gently, retracting your hands and calling Froggy, who... didn't want to come out, apparently. That was okay. Knowing the Akk dog was guarding the area, you were confident she was safe here.
"Make sure he surveys the place constantly," you told the man. "My friend, she's a bit scared to come out of the ship."
He bobbed his head once, a grin spreading on his lips. "Don't worry. She's safe here."
You briefly offered your gratitude before leaving soon afterwards, beginning your trek through the silent city. Faint fog encased the area, which was undesirable as it limited your vision... You could only hope you didn't somehow seem vulnerable or exposed in any way, and kept your back straight with a confident stride as you continued down the streets. Even through the heaviness that loomed throughout your entire body.
Tents and shops surrounded you on both sides. Small-scaled buildings and structures were situated behind them, various of them being homes while several others were designated for business purposes. People were rather scarce around here, a mere five, six people walking around, inspecting the items for sale. Some of them happened to capture your attention, although your sole motive here was to find Mando and the Child. Only, you had no clue towards which direction they took. Perhaps they weren't missing and were currently heading back. But you couldn't help the concern... They had grown on you—again. You had been an idiot to believe that you could join them without forming 'feelings' of sorts, but whatever. It's too late now, and now you're worried.
Your cracked visor scanned the zone for both threats and a Mandalorian. Still, there was not a silver of beskar in sight. This searching was becoming rather tedious already, despite only it being about fifteen minutes The constant throbbing of your head and aching muscles was fatiguing you, and all you wished to do was curl up into somewhere comfortable to rest and recover from this (maybe Din had been right but you would never admit it to him).
While the likelihood of danger around here didn't seem too possible, something was definitely a bit off. As if you were being followed— or something—but every time you peered over your shoulder, there was nothing. The same streets and the same markets and the same buildings that you had passed earlier. No signs of seeing someone twice. Whether the Force were warning you of something or not, you weren't sure. But the area was definitely becoming too isolated for your comfort now as night approached and the grand majority of the businesses were beginning to close down.
Exposed was what you felt. Out here in the middle of the streets with hardly anyone surrounding you could easily result in you being sniped. Perhaps that was what you were feeling. Someone was aiming a weapon towards you, though you couldn't see it—you didn't know. There were a plethora of reasons as to why the Force could be trying to alert you. You simply had no clue what your powers were attempting to alert you of... If it even were the Force. Maybe you were overthinking it and were simply feeling uncomfortable out here.
It shouldn't be ignored, though.
Your initial reaction was to enter a shop that seemed open. Underneath your mask, you greeted the woman inside who had welcomed you and stepped further inside the cozy structure. It was actually quite warm here, although not warm enough to soothe your chills. Still, it beats being outside. So you proceeded with pretending to browse around the store to not cause suspicion. Fingers grasped random objects, not exactly paying attention to what you were touching, but more carefully surveying whoever walked inside after yourself. Nobody that made you overly skeptical had entered, so your decision was to wait it out in here. This was your safe zone, so if nothing occurred, you would quickly head back to the ship hangar and hope that Din and the Child returned by then.
Moments passed, and as you walked around whilst cautiously observing the entrance through your peripheral vision, you happened to have bumped into someone. Your spine collided with something stiff, so naturally, your assumption had been that you found Din—or that he had found you himself. And you turned, with relief present on your mind, only for your eyes to meet with someone entirely unfamiliar to you. Cold eyes stared down at you. You remembered this man walking in, although he hadn't seemed distrustful. The sense that something was off became more prominent now—undoubtedly, the Force was warning you that it was him. Cold eyes stared down at you, followed by a strict grip on your upper arm.
"Where's the Mandalorian?" he demanded, voice deep and firm. He's a hunter, you realized. He's looking for the Child and must've seen you slip out of the same hangar the Razor Crest landed. Although what with the guard dog, he probably hadn't risked sneaking inside in case the Child had been left within it.
This always had to happen to you, of course.
You gulped, hoping he didn't feel you trembling—not due to fear, but obviously because you're ill. Then, "I think you've got the wrong person."
His rough digits strengthened around your bicep, unquestionably bruising the skin underneath. It was nearly cutting off your circulation, nearly earning a wince which you were reluctant to let escape. Instead of pulling and causing the pain to worsen, you jerked your knee into his stomach without warning, hearing a grunt from him and feeling relief from the pressure on your arm. Then, you snatched his wrist and yanked yourself free from his unfailing grip, and twisting it in a way that was... unpleasant. To say the least.
Honestly, you were not in the mood for a fight right now.
But an idea had sneaked into your mind.
Ignoring the exclaims that came from the hunter, you darted outside as rapidly as you could. The heavy footsteps pursuing you did not go unnoticed, and you knew full well you were being follower and possibly killed if you allowed him to catch you. Heart pumping loudly in your ears, you continued sprinting down the streets towards the direction you came from, mind cloudy and limbs lagging. Ear-splitting sounds of a blaster firing had worsened your headache, bullets flying straight past you. While your powers allowed a brief two, three seconds to react, some of the blue streaks had passed way too close for your comfort. This hunter was definitely relentless. Even with a broken wrist. Thankfully, though, he never successfully shot you. And even more thankfully, the hangar was in view up ahead. Fervently, you urged yourself forward without glancing back for a second, halting momentarily to open the door before rushing inside as quickly as possible.
The man was likely still chasing you—which brought your plan into play.
"Janther!" you shouted as loudly as you possibly could, rapidly ripping the mask off your face and lifting two fingers to your lips, blowing with as much force as you possibly could. A whistle—a horrible, spit-filled whistle—escaped your mouth, clearly not as easy as the man who owned the ship hangar made it to be. But it was a whistle nevertheless... or, something similar to one.
And just like that, a flash of red came hastening towards you—and as you pointed behind you, he immediately followed your finger and pounced forwards, snarling, barking, and undoubtedly attacking the hunter even though you couldn't see him as he hadn't entered yet. Finally, you skid to a stop. A moment passed with heavy breathing as the adrenaline in your bloodstream subsided slowly, that sickness and sluggish feel that accompanied it returning again. Lifting your eyes, your gaze fell on the Mandalorian who seemed to have been... threatening the hangar manager. But as soon as he caught sight of you, the man merely shrugged without saying another word in fear of the Mandalorian shooting him down right there. Instantly, Din had forgotten everything else and instead approached you, evidently not too pleased with the way you had scared him.
You wanted to chuckle. Had the worrying been mutual, perhaps?
Then, urgently, "Why did you leave?"
"Well, you were taking way too long—" something nuzzled into the side of your leg, causing you to flinch. Only, it happened to be Janther who had returned and was now asking for your attention. "Hiii!"you exclaimed, surprised by how quickly you had gained the animal's trust. You'd only officially met the Akk dog once, for five minutes and yet it had been as if he knew you for forever. Your hand stroked his spiked neck and he leaned into your touch, earning a soft laugh from you. "I'm getting an Akk dog one day."
Din, though, was definitely not over the previous conversation yet—"I told you I'd be back."
Heh, he must've had quite the scare...
"What, were you worried for me?" You smirked, petting Janther goodbye before turning to walk alongside Din towards the ship. Din didn't respond. And you couldn't blame him... now that you had thought about it, that actually brought back particular memories from your first trip to Sorgan. "Um... so why did you take so long?" you asked. Your eyes followed the Child, who had wriggled out of his satchel and was waddling a few feet in front of you. Quickly, you had snatched him up from the ground playfully, earning a few giggles from the infant. You had been worried for him and that was something you could admit freely.
"Could hardly find medical equipment here," he informed. Your trio entered the Razor Crest, its ramp shutting closed behind you and encasing you in the ordinary coldness that lingered throughout the entire ship. It was empty, which meant Froggy was probably upstairs, knowing the ship was soon to lift off. Your shaking started once more, and you found yourself hugging the Child closer to you. Then, "Go back to the cockpit. I have to find something."
You had sloppily climbed up the ladder with a single hand before setting the Child down so he could walk around liberally. By the time Din had returned, you had already removed your armor for comfort and draped a blanket around yourself whilst you lay in the passenger seat. Din had then handed over what he had been looking for downstairs—apparently, a mug. Which meant this remedy he had purchased was a liquid.
Soon afterwards, Din had occupied the pilot's seat and guided the Crest out of the planet's atmosphere. Once the ship was on course, Din set the half-functioning gunship on autopilot before standing to make his way towards you. Then, he uncovered the medical equipment—seemingly a miniature canister—which he had purchased earlier, reaching for the mug he'd given you and briefly pouring the liquid inside. A dark violet liquid spilled from the container, hardly filling the mug halfway before he returned the object to you. "This might make you drowsy."
Quickly, you tested it out. Inhaled a bit of its scent—which, actually, didn't smell bad at all. On the contrary, its aroma was surprisingly sweet and filled the air of the cockpit with its sugary scent. The flavor, though, was... something else. Something else entirely. You hadn't hesitated to gulp down the entire sustenance down your throat but as soon as it came into contact with your tongue, you nearly vomited then and there. Repugnant. Terribly repugnant. A gag escaped your throat. If it weren't for the fluids swiftly slipping down your esophagus, you would have spit the entire remedy out. Brusquely, you shoved the mug back into Din's hands. "Ugh, that's... that's nasty— what was in that thing?"
Silently, he shrugged and set the items away. "I don't know."
"So I can ask you if it's poison, and you wouldn't be able to—" a cough. "—to answer me, honestly?"
"I'm... kidding," he joked. Well, it wasn't really a joke. It was more of a nonchalant remark, with his distorted voice remaining neutral and serious as per usual. "Would I have bought it if I wasn't sure?"
You sniffled, once, lowering your eyes, leaning your head back on the chair and attempting to rid of the persistent nauseating taste on your tongue. Then, your gaze lifted to meet with the Mandalorian's lingering visor—and once again you imagined those... gentle dark eyes. But the thought was shaken away from your mind.
For a second, he... stayed and watched you. Quite possibly to double-check that the medication wouldn't cause some unexpected reaction to you. Then, "Were you hurt?"
You hugged yourself with your arms, chills beginning to overwhelm you again."No, I'm okay... Some hunters were trying to f-find you and the kid."
Din made a sound, evidently concerned that hunters were locating your group so easily. He had spoken again afterwards, but... the treatment's effects were already affecting you, promptly inducing a heavy drowsiness that lulled your eyes. Already exhausted from the rather exciting day out, you were bound to feel the reaction to the remedy immediately. Receiving no response from you, Din removed his glove and raised a calloused hand to your forehead. His palm, careful against your heated skin, persisted for a moment. Until you gripped his wrist—and he swore for a second, he believed you were pushing him away. Actually, the contrary... your cold digits pulled his hand down to hold the side of your face, and— and... Din stiffened, unsure as to whether he should... stay, and cradle your face as you wanted him to... He wasn't even sure if you wanted this, or if your lethargy was causing you to do and say things you didn't truly mean...
But then he... swiped his thumb against your cheekbone, several times, watching your eyes flutter closed, your head inclining into the pleasant warmth of his palm, a satisfied hum—almost a purr—escaping your nose, your grasp on his arm slowly softening, and... he couldn't help but smile. An authentic grin curled his lips underneath the helmet, chest swelling with warmth, tilting his head fondly as he peered down at you, and suddenly he was reminded of why he wanted you to remove his helmet back on th—
"You're so... warm, Din..."
—then replaced by guilt.
Carefully, he drew his hand away.
Not because he didn't want this (there was nothing he craved for more than your attention). It was just that... you hadn't called him by his genuine name in forever. It wasn't that in itself, but the fact that you only ever called him that when you had wholeheartedly trusted him in the past was what caused this blame to flood him. It was his fault you had stopped trusting him, stopped calling him by that name, stopped enjoying yourself as you used to, and yet now in your illness and drowsiness... you had called him that. So, naturally, his grin dropped.
Din thought you had fallen asleep. But as soon as the warmth left your face, you stirred, an unclear expression of what he thought was confusion appearing on your features, eyes staring up at him, as if... as if asking him to keep you warm, or something— or maybe it was just him assuming things, he didn't know. With the sleepy look in your eyes, maybe you were simply half-asleep and... and, he sighed. He couldn't leave you like this...
His hand raised to the armor plating his chest, fumbling to remove the beskar. Visor shifting from you to the Frog Lady in her seat, embracing the canister on her lap, a sound escaping her mouth as her head tilted—seemingly not expecting the softened interactions between you two, especially after all the arguing and yelling between each other. He didn't blame her, though. Not at all. He hadn't expected any of this either but when he saw your shivering body, debilitated condition, heavy eyes gaping up at him and he just... he couldn't resist, he couldn't fight back that warmth that stirred within him and urged him to care for you. It was an all-too-familiar feeling. He'd felt something similar to this when he had offered his cape to you on Arvala-7, but now it's more... prominent.
"Come here..." he voiced quietly. Hesitantly wrapping an arm under your neck, he then set another around your legs. When you didn't move—didn't push him away (you probably should've, he thought)—he lifted you, pulled him close to himself and returned to his seat, slightly tilting the seat back so you could lay comfortably on his chest. Immediately, he felt you curl into him, a satisfied sigh escaping your lips as he tucked you underneath his chin, and he found himself... smiling again. Even through the guilt that burdened him, he smiled. Yet he convinced himself he was only doing this for you. To keep you warm and alive and comfortable... Not because he liked this. Not because he missed you... so much. Too much.
You were content in his warmth. It engulfed you and, even through your drowsiness, you couldn't help but wish to stay here forever. In his arms... he was comfortable. Why didn't you ever ask him to do this in the past? The exhaustion was beginning to take over again, more aggressively with each passing second. His heart rate was high, you noticed, intently listening to the constant thumping of his heartbeat underneath your ear. But that was okay, because so was yours. Part of the reason why you couldn't find yourself sleeping again was because of your rapidly beating heart. But eventually the rhythmic thumping of his heart and his quiet breathing lulled you back into sleep...
Normally, Din would find himself going to sleep as well. But his mind was heavy. Occupied by a million thoughts rampaging through his head. Because after everything he's done... he shouldn't be liking this. Keeping you safe in his arms, warm against his chest—you shouldn't even be allowing this, either, yet... you did. Just like you'd let him observe you, fresh out of the shower wearing nothing other than a thin fabric that hardly concealed your skin; just like you let him grip your waist back in the hot springs, pull you in close, and now you were letting him hold you. Perhaps, now, it were simply because you were drowsy. Sick. You weren't thinking straight. Maybe you'd regret it when you awoke. Which didn't make him feel any better because now he felt like he was sort of taking advantage of you, in a way, but... it was necessary. That was what he repeated to himself, over and over in his head, that he needed to keep you warm or else you could easily freeze to death, especially with the fever. It was necessary.
When Din felt something dig into the skin of his leg, he nearly flinched—immediately thinking it was some kriffing spider that somehow survived in here—but then he realized it was only the Child. He wanted to join in. He was cold, too. And so he, painfully, climbed up his leg, digging his claws into Din's skin— he almost grunted but he didn't want to stir you awake anymore. Eventually, the infant managed to clamber up, and his ears perked up as he stared into his guardian's visor. When nothing was said or done, he climbed over your body, hopping over—
Din whispered, firmly, "Careful."
The Child managed to sneak over you without causing you go wake. His first response was to slink underneath your arm before curling into your chest, finding comfort there, and eventually falling asleep as well. Which was a bit unusual, because he normally never fell asleep so rapidly. But maybe he was tired. Earlier, as he had searched for medical equipment, Din had double and triple-checked that there was no danger around and allowed the infant to stretch his legs, walk alongside him through the empty streets of the city.
Din glanced back down at you. He couldn't exactly see your face because you were snug underneath his chin, but he was completely certain you were asleep...
Scared. That was why he told you to leave. He had been scared.
Anxious, worried, apprehensive, because you nearly didn't come back from that fight. And it had been his own fault. His fault because you wanted to save him—and you probably shouldn't have. You should've left him for dead. If he had been blasted then and there, he would've preferred that over watching your expression drop when he suggested you to leave the Razor Crest.
So what would have happened if you had stayed with him? If Din hadn't mentioned anything? You would've suffered again. Because of him, you would be in danger and he simply couldn't stand the fact that as long as you were with him, something would occur to you. When had your former title been revealed to the galaxy? Never. Not until you joined the Mandalorian. When had you quite literally died and revived in your life? Probably never. At least, you hadn't alluded to that ever. It hadn't happened until, again, you joined him. Honestly, he hadn't expected you to actually leave. He knew you. He knew you would refuse the notion, and, really... he wouldn't have protested against you. Din would not have tried whatsoever. It was not a lie that he wanted you to stay. What he stated the previous day had been the complete truth. Solely thinking of the idea that you could've stayed with him had... frustrated him, incredibly.
Clearly, he shouldn't have done that. Clearly, he had messed up. Clearly, he had been an idiot.
Yes, you would have denied the idea—that was, if you were okay. Which you most definitely were not. Because you had been resuscitated hours earlier, wounded, with snapped ribs—you didn't want any further trouble. There was no more energy to argue with him. There was no desire to fight him anymore... and you had made it clear that day. Yet he had been stupid. Careless. Selfish. He didn't put any of that under consideration and instead gave in to his own anxieties, without caring about what you believed. Without keeping in mind that he had torn you away from something you had grown so attached to. To himself, to the kid, to the Crest—this had been your home. He couldn't bring himself to explain to you the reason behind all of that. No. Because then he'd be asking for you to reason with him. To excuse his past actions and mistakes. That's what hurt the most.
He didn't deserve your forgiveness.
note:
well FINALLY
was the wait worth it...? hopefully...?
i know i know it's been like a month or so but lol life happened. on top of that, this is a particularly long chapter that took forever to edit. i rewrote specific scenes over and over again because i just needed this one to be perfect!!! also considering the length, there's probably a few mistakes here and there so I'M SORRY. i tried my best with editing and i'm 99% sure that i got all errors out but sometimes i come back in the future and reread and see a whole bunch of mistakes (its so annoying)
anyway what did you guys think about this chapter? i'd love to hear your thoughts about it!!
i loved writing this chapter because i got to hint at cansad'ika's past a little bit more, but i promise we will be diving into that a whole lot more!! especially when she finally gets to reunite with an old friend she doesn't even realize is still alive 👀 she really has no clue what's happened to the people she knew while she was a padawan, since she left the order before order 66 happened. i am SO excited to write for episode 13!!
also, are you still mad at din? i hope not. bby was just a lil confused 🥺
THANK YOU SM FOR READING! ILY GUYS