Chapter Text
The pirate finally made a mistake.
It wasn't a big one.
Just enough.
A sloppy jump through an unstable asteroid field that left his ship limping, one engine sputtering. Bo watched the sensor display.
"He's damaged."
Boba grinned.
"Nowhere left to run."
For the first time in nearly a week...
They had him.
Din crouched in front of Grogu before anyone moved to board.
The cargo compartment was small, tucked behind a reinforced bulkhead.
It wasn't perfect.
But it was the safest place on the ship.
Grogu already looked nervous.
He'd heard the shift in everyone's voices. The excitement.
The urgency.
Din rested both hands on his shoulders. "I need you to stay here."
Grogu nodded immediately. "I know."
"No matter what happens." "I know."
Din looked him directly in the eyes. "Don't come out until I come get you." "What if I hear fighting?"
"You stay here."
"What if I hear you?" "You stay here." "What if—"
"Grogu."
The boy fell quiet.
Din reached up and smoothed back a loose strand of hair.
"I'm coming back."
"I promise."
Grogu searched his face for a long moment.
Then nodded.
"...Okay."
"That's my brave boy."
Din kissed his forehead.
Then stood.
He hesitated for the briefest second before sealing the compartment door. It wasn't locked.
He didn't want Grogu trapped.
Just hidden.
Safe.
"I'll be right back."
The boarding operation went almost perfectly.
Almost.
The pirate's ship was larger than expected.
Instead of a skeleton crew...
It was packed.
Mercenaries.
Smugglers.
Hired muscle.
Blaster fire erupted almost immediately.
Din launched into the middle of it.
Beskar flashed beneath harsh corridor lights.
His rifle cracked.
A vibroblade found his hand.
One attacker fell.
Then another.
Then three more.
He fought with the frightening efficiency of someone who had survived too many battles to count.
Bo cut through another hallway.
Cara and Mayfeld cleared engineering.
Fennec disappeared into the ventilation system.
Boba blasted through the bridge.
The pirate crew began collapsing under the coordinated assault.
Victory seemed inevitable.
No one noticed one man slipping away.
Not at first.
He ducked into a maintenance corridor.
Found an unsecured docking tube.
Saw the open hatch leading into Din's ship.
He smiled.
On the pirate vessel—
"Bridge secure!"
"Engineering clear!"
"Cargo hold!"
"Clear!"
Din reloaded.
"Status?"
Mayfeld checked the scanner.
"Looks like that's everybody."
Boba frowned.
"...No."
"What?"
"I counted one more."
Silence.
Then—
A scream.
High.
Terrified.
From Din's ship.
Grogu.
Din moved before anyone else.
The distance between the ships suddenly felt endless.
He sprinted.
Boots hammering against metal.
His heart stopped.
No.
No no no.
Not again.
Please.
Not again.
He practically threw himself through the airlock.
The others raced after him.
The sight waiting inside froze everyone.
Grogu stood backed against the far wall.
A large knife pressed against his throat.
The escaped mercenary held him tightly from behind.
One arm locked across his chest.
The blade trembled.
Not because Grogu struggled.
Because the mercenary was scared.
Very scared.
His eyes darted between six heavily armed bounty hunters. "You move—"
His grip tightened.
"I kill him."
Silence.
Grogu wasn't crying.
Not yet.
He couldn't.
He was too terrified to breathe.
His enormous brown eyes locked onto Din.
Searching.
Pleading.
Din slowly lowered his blaster.
"It's okay."
His voice remained impossibly calm.
"You don't want to do this."
"I'll do it!"
"No."
"You won't."
"I swear—"
"I believe you're scared."
Din took one careful step forward.
"But hurting him won't save you."
"Stay back!"
The knife pressed closer.
Grogu whimpered.
Din immediately stopped moving.
"Easy."
His entire focus narrowed to one point. One child.
Nothing else existed.
"Grogu."
Those frightened eyes found him again. "Look at me."
Grogu tried.
His little chest shook violently.
"I know."
Din's voice was barely above a whisper.
"I know you're scared."
"It's okay."
"I'm right here."
"I'm not leaving."
Grogu's breathing hitched.
"D-Dad..."
"I'm here."
"You keep looking at me."
"Okay?"
Another tiny nod.
Good.
Stay with me.
Stay here.
Don't disappear inside your fear.
Around them...
The others spread out almost imperceptibly. Tiny movements.
Slow.
Careful.
Trying to improve their angles.
The mercenary noticed.
"Don't!"
Boba stopped immediately.
"No one's moving."
Din never looked away from Grogu.
"You're doing great, ad'ika."
"You keep breathing."
"Just like we practiced."
Grogu tried.
A shaky inhale.
Then another.
Good.
Good.
Stay with me.
"I'm sorry," Grogu whispered. Din's heart lurched.
"What?"
"I'm sorry."
"No."
"You have nothing to be sorry for."
"I should've hidden better."
"No."
"I should've—"
"No."
Din's voice cracked.
"This is not your fault."
"Do you hear me?"
"None of this."
"None."
Grogu nodded weakly.
The mercenary shifted his footing.
Just slightly.
Tiny.
Barely noticeable.
Except—
Boba saw it.
So did Bo.
So did Din.
The man's attention flickered toward Cara for half a second.
Just half.
Enough.
Din moved.
One fluid motion.
Blaster up.
One shot.
The bolt struck the mercenary squarely in the shoulder.
His grip loosened.
The knife clattered away.
Before the man even hit the ground—
Din was already there.
He caught Grogu before he could fall.
Scooping him up so quickly it almost looked desperate.
Maybe it was.
Grogu wrapped himself around Din with such force that Din nearly lost his balance. He buried his face against the beskar.
Shaking uncontrollably.
"I'm here."
Din's own voice shook now.
"I've got you."
"I've got you."
"I'm so sorry."
He held Grogu tighter. "So sorry."
"I'm sorry."
Over.
And over.
And over.
Grogu couldn't answer. He just clung.
His fingers twisted into Din's cape. Breathing in frantic little gasps.
Bo quietly checked the mercenary. "Alive."
Boba nodded.
"I'll secure him."
Cara looked toward the pirate ship.
"We've still got cleanup."
Din barely seemed to hear her.
He'd sunk to one knee.
Rocking Grogu gently.
Helmet resting against the top of his son's head. "I'm sorry."
"You were supposed to be safe."
"I'm sorry."
His breathing had become uneven.
Grogu finally managed one word.
"Dad..."
"I'm here."
"I'm right here."
"No..."
Grogu reached trembling hands up to the helmet. "You okay?"
Din closed his eyes behind the visor.
The question nearly undid him.
"I'm okay."
"I'm okay."
"You're scared."
Din swallowed.
"...Yeah."
"A little."
Grogu leaned forward.
Pressing his forehead against the helmet.
The familiar gesture they'd shared for years now. "I'm okay."
It took Din a second to realize...
Grogu was comforting him.
Boba quietly walked over.
He slung the unconscious mercenary over one shoulder.
Then looked down at Din.
"We'll finish it."
Din looked up.
"You sure?"
Boba nodded once.
"You stay."
"I've got this."
No lecture.
No pity.
Just understanding.
He looked toward Grogu.
"I'll stand watch."
The others disappeared back across the docking tube.
Blaster fire resumed in the distance.
Fainter now.
Boba remained.
Standing silently near the airlock.
Carbine ready.
Watching every entrance.
Giving Din and Grogu something priceless.
Time.
Safety.
Privacy.
Nearly twenty minutes passed before Grogu's breathing finally slowed.
The shaking eased.
Just a little.
Din still hadn't loosened his grip.
Not even once.
He rubbed slow circles across Grogu's back.
The same comforting rhythm that had carried them through nightmares, illness, courtrooms, and memories.
Eventually Grogu whispered,
"...Can we go home now?"
Din laughed weakly.
It sounded suspiciously like a sob.
"Yeah."
"We're going home."
"No more mission?"
Din looked down at him. "No."
"Not for a long time."
"I promise."
Grogu searched his face.
"Really?"
"Really."
"We're going home."
"We're sleeping in our own beds."
"I'm making your favorite breakfast tomorrow." "We're staying there."
"As long as you want."
Grogu nodded once.
Satisfied.
He tucked himself closer beneath Din's chin. Safe again.
Boba finally spoke from his post. "They're done."
Din rose slowly.
Still carrying Grogu.
Still unwilling to put him down.
He wasn't sure when he would be willing again.
Maybe tomorrow.
Maybe next week.
Maybe longer.
As they walked back toward the ship, Grogu's eyes drifted closed.
He was exhausted.
Emotionally spent.
But no longer afraid.
Din kissed the top of his head through his hair.
"We're going home, ad'ika."
This time, there would be no detours.
No more bounty contracts.
No more "just one more mission."
For a while, the galaxy could solve its own problems.
His son had spent enough time being brave.
Now it was time for him to simply be eleven years old again.
And if anyone objected to that plan, Din Djarin was prepared to tell them exactly where they could file their complaints.