Work Text:
This is a snippet from a WIP of mine- reader has lost Din, and a wandering woman has just asked if they would like her to wait with them. I"m not so good at writing full blurbs but want to practice more, so I figured I would get this small piece out. Please leave feedback! I need it lol, writing fanfiction is a lot different than the literary analysis like I"m used to.
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"No, I just- He"ll find me but- I don"t even know where the ship is, oh Maker I"m screwed!" Your sobs returned, it felt like the air had been pulled out of your lungs by the fear that always sat in you when Din went after a bounty. What if he didn"t come back? You couldn"t fly the ship. You couldn"t fight. You were just a glorified engineer and medic, basically kept on to keep the ship clean. Why did Din even keep you around?
You liked to think it was because he had taken a liking to you. You had been working on his ship with him for over a year at this point- hired off Nevarro when Karga decided you needed something better to do than slinging drinks. Din hated you at first. He ignored you, and just let you do your own thing. It wasn"t until he came back with a stab wound in his dominant arm that your talents came to light.
What he had been told: You could fix a ship in a pinch, and do housework. Not to mention your cooking was not too shabby. "She"ll hold you accountable," Karga had said.
What he hadn"t been told (and what Greed Karga didn"t know, and would never know): You had been getting paid under the table to patch up bounty hunters when things went awry for them. You knew your way around a medkit with your eyes closed.
Din couldn"t fix his own arm, much to his demise. He tried, you heard his grunting from inside the cockpit. To be honest, you had been a bit concerned at first that maybe something… less than savory was happening.
"Hey," He had yelled, "You know how to cauterize? Or even use a kriffing bactapad?" You had walked in, and he was a sore sight. Like… a really sore sight. He was sitting in the pilot"s chair, facing sideways from the door, hunched over into almost a ball. There was a deep laceration on his right shoulder, and blood caked all around it and his hand.
His hand. That was the first thing you saw, his gloveless hand. This was the first time you had seen any of his skin. Up to this point, you weren"t sure he was human. Hell, you didn"t even know his name. The next thing you saw was his beskar armor, thrown onto the ground. Normally he was gentle with it, almost reverent. Then you noticed his flight suit.
Pulled down off his shoulder, down his arm, and hanging half off his back. Unzipped and his chest in full view. This couldn"t be compliant with his Creed. Could it?
"I- yeah. I"ll grab my medkit."
"No need." He grunted, pointing at the box sitting next to him.
"Mando, there"s no numbing spray in there. Mine has some, let me grab it. Keep pressure on the wound."
"I said. No need." You could hear the anger in his voice. It wasn"t meant to be directed at you; you knew that. It still stung though.
"Alright. But it"s gonna hurt." You moved towards him, kneeling on the ground at his side. There wasn"t a lot in his medkit. It seemed well-used. There was at least enough to disinfect, cauterize, and cover with a bactapad.
"Good." That made you pause. What did he say? Did he say good? Maker, did Karga stick you on a ship with a psychopath? Or… was it something sadder than that? Did he feel like he deserved it? As you moved to grab his arm, he stiffened up. "Sorry. Not used to… this. Getting help."
"S"okay. Just let me do my thing, Mando, and you"ll be good as new." He relaxed a little bit, shoulders falling as he let out a breath. "This spray is gonna be cold. Just a warning." You grabbed the small bottle, giving it a small shake. Good. Mostly full. Although you figured you wouldn"t need much, seeing as he literally said good to it hurting. You pointed it at the cut, giving it a spray.
"Dank Farrik! Fuck!" He jerked out of your grip, grabbing his arm and hissing with pain.
"Shit shit shit shit I"m sorry Mando I tried to tell you-" Fuck you had warned him right? He paused, and tilted his head towards you.
"Keep going."
"Say again?"
"Keep. Going." So you did. You gave him another spray, and you grabbed the cauterizer. Every sound you made caused him to stiffen up, and every time you grabbed his arm again he relaxed. It was a never-ending cycle of cusses and hisses and gentle shushing.
By the time you finished and applied the bactapad, his breathing had settled down to a normal pace. You looked up at him from your place on the floor. He was silent, which wasn"t uncharacteristic of him, but you were worried. What if he was mad at you for helping him? He had asked, but still. What if he fired you, sent you back to working at a shitty guild bar and dealing with flirtations of douchey bounty hunters? You couldn"t go back there. You wouldn"t.
"Thank you." It was a small sound, a barely heard sentence. You weren"t even sure you heard it come out of his mouth, until he turned to face you directly. His hands reached out and grabbed your shoulders, thumbs lightly stroking them.
"It"s nothing, you were hurt… I couldn"t let you suffer like that Mando." He tilted his head towards yours, the cold beskar of his helmet pressing against your forehead. You weren"t sure, but you thought maybe this meant he was warming up to you.
"My name is Din. You should know that… if you"re going to be my medic." Oh. Oh. You weren"t even expecting a thank you out of him. And he gave you his name? You didn"t ask for it; he bared it to you, just as he bared his soul when asking for help, when showing you his scarred and wounded skin. "Will you? Be my medic? I wish Karga had told me about your skills before… that piece of bantha shit keeps so many secrets." This was a new side of Man- Din. You had never seen him so talkative.
"I- yeah. Yeah Din. I"ll be your medic. From now until you get tired of me. If that"s okay?" You chuckled against his helmet, and if you heard right, he did too.
"Of course. Of course it"s alright cyar"ika."
You never asked him what that meant.